#literally stepped on a rake kind of moment

[fellhellion]

getting into spiderman now is payback for me hearing all those years ago that the voltron writers got hired for atsv and just going lmao poor suckers

[starryeyedjanai]

Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.

The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.

He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.

He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.

He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.

Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.

The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.

He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.

When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).

Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.

Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.

He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.

“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”

Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”

His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.

In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.

“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”

“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.

When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”

Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”

“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”

“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.

There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.

Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”

Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.

“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

Just a silly question but how will cotton react when he saw or knew that y/n REALLY love to eat rabbits and have a weird obsession for eating them? Like. Is he gonna be terrified or he gonna be like "stay away from my child but I still love U tho"

-(I wanna be the 🦖 anon please and yes the ask earlier where I quack was me too )

Cotton x carnivore!darling

Tw: minor body horror, cannibalism, reader can be another hybrid or human, cotton being cotton, blood mentioned. Not proofread 🌺

🔪he knew there was something wrong with you. From the moment you took him in and nursed him to health. To the way your hands glided over his abdomen and raked down his thighs. Your eyes staring hungrily at his throat. He saw the red flags, but he ignored them, because you made him feel something he thought he hated. Fear. Adrenaline.

🔪when you reluctantly let him go, he begged to stay. He knew he wasn't much of a meal but won't you give him a chance? He'll gladly let you tear open his chest and claw out his intestines. How would you eat him? Raw and fresh? Or cooked and seasoned? The thought excited him beyond belief!

🔪when you had your first litter of children, he quite literally had to pry them from your hold. He loved you but he couldn't risk you eating your newborns. So for the first few months he raised them himself from a distance. The only way he'd let you near them would be if he was close by and had a sedative in hand.

🔪 while quickly becoming a prisoner in your own home, Your shorter than average husband was constantly breathing down your neck, his gaze never leaving your form. And with the help of your offspring, life got even more suffocating. You loved your children, you really did. But you could never really get rid of that little itch in your mouth begging to sink into some meat. When was the last time you had it? You were starving.. you didn't want to eat vegetables anymore..

🔪one night you went missing. How the hell did you break out of the chains he found. He felt his heart stop and scrambled out of your bed. Ears moving around to try and catch any noise. Quickly rushing to the children's rooms, he relaxed in seeing them all safe and sound. Until he heard something from outside. Grabbing the dart gun from his bedside, he stepped out slowly. Following the smell of blood and cracking of what sounded like bones. Going Deeper into the forest...

🔪and there you were. Crouched over the bodies of what seemed like a deer hybrid family. You didn't seem to notice him, happily chewing and tearing at the flesh underneath you. Blood spewing out onto the dirt floor, he swore he could see a little twitch from the mother's hand. Their bones bent in unnatural places and the gashes on their bodies lethal. He slowly approached, standing over you

"there you are.. where have you gone..? you had me so worried honey..."

🔪 you simply stared up at him, licking your bloody lips and dropping the arm you were chewing on. He could feel himself get hard at the sight. Weirdo. Ignoring the corpses next to him, he set down his gun and kissed you softly. Wiping the rest of the blood off you with his shirt. He learns quickly that once you've eaten meat, you don't need to eat it for a good while. Expect him to hunt down his fellow hybrids for you in the near future. After all, what kind of husband would he be if he kept neglecting your needs?

[iidias]

hi everyone smut headcanon time bc i said sooooo

verse! idia shroud x sub! fem! chubby! reader

cont: cosplay?? dress up???, toy usage, blindfolds (reader + idia), sadomasochism, degradation (idia recieving), breeding, idia is obsessive

warnings/notes: everything is consensual!!!! if anything this is just mutual obsession. there's like a SPRINKLE of sub idia in here but i'll make a seperate post for that.

he totally buys you cute outfits n lingerie sets.

loves making you wear cow lingerie<333 he's obsessed with how your tits are so snug against the bra and you might as well not even be wearing panties with how much of your ass it out. but he loves it, all of your curves, rolls, n soft edges.

MAID OUTFIT. MAID OUTFIT. MAID OUTFIT. with the headpiece n everything. (sometimes he uses it as an excuse to make you clean up his messes) (and he totally gets off from it) he got the skirt tailored so it ends jussttttt beneath your ass. every time you bend down to pick something up he has to resist the urge to knead your ass like dough,,,,,

he doesnt like buying dildos because it makes him feel insecure, but he's more than willing to buy you (or make you??) a vibrator. he LIVES to see you writhe and whimper while he uses a wand on you. sometimes he even ties your hands behind your back so you cant hide yourself.

he's also really into sensory deprovision. on you and him.

when he's doing it on you he loves to make everything intense. putting his hands all over you, inside you, there's not one moment where he's not touching you. he just loves seeing how you jump and squeak in surprise, completely as his mercy.

when it's on him, he'll ask you to go slow. he's not used to physical touch of any kind, so you have to take it step by step. starting with his face, kissing on his jawline and the corners of his mouth. just feeling your lips on him is enough to make him twitch.

when you go lower to his chest, his breathing starts to get heavier. he's squirming, desperate to touch himself but he knows you'll stop touching him if he does. his breath hitches every time you press a kiss to his skin, he's hot to the touch.

as dominant as he is, it's so easy to get him to be sub! just put a blindfold around him and then go to town. he'll be putty in your hands immediately.

MASOCHIST IDIA I AM STANDING ON THIS!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!! when he's fucking you he cant get enough of how you rake your nails down his back. the burning sensation just makes him wanna go down on you harder.

SLAPHIM SLAP HIM SLAP HIS FACE WHILE HE'S ON TOP!!! he's so into it. smack him and tell him to go faster, harder, tell him to do it better.

he loves when you degrade him. hearing your tone of disapproval just makes him wanna do better, do you harder.

and GOD he's so obsessed with you, how could he not fill you up every second he's alone with you??? literally 65% of the time you're together he's pinning you down on his bed and stuffing you full.

he especially loves when you beg for it. hearing you beg for him to breed you makes him feel so warm n fuzzy inside, like ME?? you want ME TO FILL YOU UP??? WHAT AN HONOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

not only that but he loves it because it makes him feel closer to you. he loves you so much, he just wishes you could be a part of him<3333 and that's the closest he can get.

[the-whispers-of-death]

worshipper!soap plsplspls i beg u

No need to beg, friend! Worshipper!Soap, coming right up.

Johnny is someone who likes to joke, everyone knows about it. He's on battlefields constantly, places where hope and light is far away, where it's so dark and dreary. He and other soldiers need the lightness of his jokes, just to remind themselves of what's waiting for them back home—life.

But he absolutely does not joke about his partner and how divine you are.

As previously stated, Johnny's usually the one who gets everyone laughing and feeling good, but You? Your light is unlike any other's.

Your laughter makes the air feel so much lighter, Your smile brightens up any room, even one that had been previously dark. He can't get over Your divinity and he never wants to.

I imagine You stumbled into his life, quite literally.

You were just bringing up Your groceries home to Your flat, walking up the stairs and stepping onto the landing of Your floor just as Johnny was about to step down onto the stairs. He hadn't seen You (because that's the only way he would've missed Your divine self) because he had been talking on the phone to Gaz and you two collided.

He had been quick to reach out and steady You, his blue eyes moving to look into your eyes (no matter what eye color you have, it's now his favorite eye color and he insists that no one else's eyes are as bright and benevolent as yours). His breath caught in his chest at the sight of You, his only thoughts being on how bright You seemed to be.

You exuded divinity and benevolence, it wafting off of You in waves. He could tell that You were one of a kind, a deity. And so, he was quick to start worshipping You right then and there, helping You gather Your groceries and helping You take them inside.

For days afterwards, Johnny gravitates towards You, aching to be in Your divine presence. He memorizes which of his jokes make You laugh the hardest, memorizes what You tell him are Your favorite food, color, etc. If You tell him Your favorite food is pink, he's buying pink things immediately. He's buying—or cooking Your favorite foods, feeling so blessed whenever he sees Your bright smile when he brings his offerings to You over.

He'll talk the 141's ear off about You, growling and snapping if they even dare to suggest You're not the deity he insists You are. How can You not be a deity? They just don't know what they're talking about, Johnny decides. They haven't met You after all, only Johnny knows how divine You are.

Speaking of growling and snapping at others, Johnny is a mix of devotee and guard dog. You're so kind that You must be worshipped, but You also must be protected. He sees the way others rake their lecherous stares up and down Your holy body, and he won't have that. Even if You're not yet dating, he's not letting any creeps around You. He won't let Your divinity and kindness be taken advantage of, not that You're helpless.

No, You can take care of Yourself when defending Yourself from creeps, You just don't have to. Your most devoted servant is here for that.

When you two finally start dating, You're the one who musters up the courage to ask him out. And Johnny swears he's in heaven at that moment, but no, You're just so kind to deem him worthy of being Your lover. He easily scrounges up whatever money he has and takes You out to the fanciest restaurant he can afford, because a deity like You deserves the best of the best! He's in heaven the entire time, cherishing every single moment he has with You.

Thank You, Kind and Merciful One. Thank You for gracing him with Your beauty and divinity. He's kissing Your feet and worshipping the ground You walk on. He's Yours forever and he never wants that to change.

[brittscafe]

Hello sweetheart. I can request for Kenpachi Zaraki (either headcanons or scenario), where he meets s/o (woman) and it is love at first sight (he fell for her first). And s/o is completely the opposite of him; petite, soft, gentle, kind etc. Thank you sou much if you write this, have a happy weekend ♥️

Of course! I'm currently on spring break, so I'm trying to get everyone's requests finished up <3 <3

I'm not sure what happened, but I went off the rails and included 20 million different scenarios.

Shocked and total head over heels. That's all Kenpachi could be when he first laid eyes on you. You were talking with Renji and threw your head back, letting out a loud laughter that rung through Kenpachi's ears.

Your laughter was like sweet music to him and you were literally the opposite of him. That's what he liked about you. You were soft, gentle, and kind.

Kenpachi marched over towards you and Renji. Renji's eyes widen as he glanced up at his captain and you notice a large shadow standing above you.

You slowly turn around and face Kenpachi Zaraki. He was your captain, but you hadn't met him yet as you were new to squad 11. Your eyes rake over his long raven hair and the confident expression he wears.

"Hi," you speak with a shy voice as he towers over you. Kenpachi almost backs away when you turn around and face him, blinking at him through your eyelashes.

After you got to know each other for a few weeks, he invited you out for drinks and it was the best thing to happen to him. Not so much for you though as you got really drunk and Kenny ended up slinging you over his shoulder, taking you home.

You were so tiny, he didn't want to hurt you though. Hell, you were barely taller than Yachiru.

He was so careful with every step he took back to the squad barracks, you were fragile to him.

"Put me down," you demand, kicking your feet in the air. Kenny lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head.

"No can do," he replies back, a smug smirk across his face as he carries you into your room.

"Put me down unless you want me to get sick all over your captain's uniform. Please, captain," you beg him and his expression immediately drops.

Kenpachi carefully places you down on the ground and you sprint into the bathroom. Curiosity gets the best of Kenny as he pokes his head inside the bath and finds you a complete mess, hanging over the toilet.

You didn't even notice when he stepped inside and kneeled down beside you until, his rough hands pushed back your hair.

You sniffle quietly and lift up your head, tears streaming down your face as Kenny holds back your hair.

"I'm sorry, captain," you sigh out, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and shame. Kenpachi's eyes soften and his lips curl up into a tiny grin.

It's safe to say that Kenpachi was definitely in love with you in that moment and confessed right then and there.

~

The first time you both were alone, Kenny was surprised by how affectionate you were. His breath hitches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his torso.

"What are you doing?" Kenny asks you with a firm voice. You glance up at Kenpachi and smile warmly.

"Hugging you. Do you not like it?" you mumble out, a frown tugging on your face. Kenny's lips slightly part open and he hums with amusement.

Instead of using his words, he wraps his arms around you and holds you. Kenny would never admit how much he loves to hold you or when you rake your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

~

He's super protective over you. One time you were arguing with Ikkaku and he ran away the moment, Kenny walked over and towered over you.

You didn't even notice Kenny was towering over you glance down at the ground and see his shadow. You spin around on your heel and let out a deep sigh.

"I don't know why everyone is so scared of you," you shrug your shoulders.

"Hmph," Kenny lets out a low chuckle as you grab onto his large hand. His hand is so large, it could cover your face two times over.

"You're like a giant teddy bear," you comment, squeezing his hand and snuggling into his side. A smile tugs on Kenny's face and he interlaces your fingers together.

~

When Yhwach came around and the soul society got invaded, Kenny became insane.

You managed to come face to face with Yhwach and it was the worst thing to ever happen to you. You couldn't even pick up your sword before he manages to wrap his hand around your throat.

You gasp loudly as he effortlessly lifts you off the ground and your feet dangle in the air. His fingers squeeze into your soft flesh and your lungs burn for an ounce of air.

The tears fill up to the brim of your eyes and you whimper with agony.

"Let her go!" a deep voice roars out from behind you and your heart skips a beat. You couldn't turn your head to see Kenny, but you knew it was him.

Kenpachi swings his sword down with all his strength and effort. Your eyes widen as his bare arm stops Kenpachi's sword with ease and your breath shudders.

Yhwach releases his tight grip on you and you thud onto the ground. You watch in pure fear as Yhwach grabs onto Kenny's throat and brings him down to his knees.

You couldn't move, your limps and muscles were limp. You pant heavily as the tears stream down your face and you couldn't do a single thing about it.

"Please...stop," you mutter out, your voice hoarse and breaking. Yhwach glances down at you and suddenly the ground starts to rattle beneath you.

You knew what it was or who it was. The head captain was heading to the front lines.

Yhwach releases his tight grip on Kenny and he slumps over on the ground, breathing heavily.

Your eyes dart over to Kenpachi as he struggles to get up from the ground. His face twists with agony and he grunts quietly as he presses his palm into the ground, lifting himself up.

You blink in utter shock as Kenpachi limps over to you and even struggles to pick you up in his arms.

He grunts loudly as he starts to limp away from the scene.

Heat. Heat was all you think about. Sweat covers your face and every inch of Kenny's body.

The thud of Captain Yammato's body can be heard throughout the entire soul society. A hole flickers in your heart as your eyes dart around the destruction, chaos, and death that's surrounding the soul society.

A tiny gasp leaves your lips and your throat tightening up with immense agony.

"Don't look, y/n. Damn it," Kenpachi curses out, falling back down onto his knees. His grip becomes tighter around you and you gulp, glancing up at him.

"Put me down, Kenny," you demand and confusion becomes written all over his face. Your eyes soften and he clears his throat, gently setting you down on the rubble.

You stand on your knees and hold up your limp body.

Kenny lowers his head and his eyes become heavy. You put on a weak smile and slowly reach out towards him. You place your hand on his cheek and your jaw drops open as Kenny's head smacks down onto your shoulder.

You press your free hand against his chest and listen to his thumping heartbeat. You let out a sigh of relief and you were even more relieved when a group of healers made their way over to the two of you.

~

You never left his side in the hospital. It was too crowded in there with all the injuries and death lingering in your mind. You crawl into Kenny's side and let out a tiny sigh.

You knew he was going to wake up, but it was a matter of when. You couldn't help but frown at the sight of all his injuries. Scars litter his chest and new ones are making their mark.

A hand cups the back of your head and your heart skips a beat. You glance up at Kenpachi, his eyes still fluttering open and he readjusts himself.

"Hey, you okay?" Kenny asks, his eyes raking over your face. You had a few bruises and patches of dried blood on your face. With his free hand, he cups your cheek.

"I think I'm the one who should be asking if you're okay," you point out, a frown tugging on your face as you lean into his hand.

"I'm going to kill him for ever laying a hand on you, y/n. I mean it, I'm going to make him suffer for hurting you," Kenny's speaks through gritted teeth, but his voice is still soft when speaking to you.

Your eyes slightly widen and your heartstrings are tugged on once again.

"I love you," a wide smile grows across your face and dip your head down, pressing your lips against his. He smiles against your lips and you run your fingers through his long hair.

"Not the usual response I get to that," Kenny comments, pulling away from your lips. The happy expression you wear on your face makes Kenny all soft and gushy inside.

"We can work on that," you reply, letting out a tiny giggle.

That's his favorite sound in the entire loud. Your laughter ringing through his eardrums....

[bingeate-r]

Hello helloo!!

The Zenji headcanon/oneshot has me on a deathgrip. I absolutely love the way you wrote him<3

So I'm here to humbly request possible Kaito headcanons or a drabble. Literally anything for the beloved boyfail. Maybe some comfort? He deserves all the cuddles, headpats and forehead kisses for the shit hes put through for simply being a little pathetic :[ That is all

feel free to ignore if you don't wanna write it <33 okok byee<3

thank you for doing gods work fr <3

WITH A REQUEST THIS DELIGHTFUL HOW COULD I REFUSE? YOU ARE SO KIND. I was lowkey scared I didn’t do Zenji justice, so I appreciate all of your kind words!!

Here is my take on a lil Kaito fluff/comfort!

Kaito Fuji

You had finally just made it out of class, an armful of books piled within your arms as you trailed through the halls, ready to return to your makeshift home and die for the night. You barely stepped outside when your phone began to buzz from within your pocket.

A soft hum escaped your lips as you retrieved it from your pocket, seeing a series of texts from Kaito.

‘I’m sick 🥵🥵’ the first one read.

‘I can feel my body growing weaker… the end is near 😵‍💫’ was the second one.

‘If only there was a pretty girl that could nurse me back to health 👀’ there it was, his true request.

You had to stifle a laugh as you pulled up his contact, dialing his number as you changed direction, heading towards his room instead.

‘Wow, took you long enough! What if I was dead?! This sickness could have taken me, and I’d never get to see your beautiful face again!’ His voice was a flurry of pure word vomit the second he answered your call, sobs in between each sentence.

“I’ll come take care of you, just rest Kaito!” You pleaded, hoping the tears would subside. However they doubled, the sound of him sniffling now accompanying the cries.

‘YOU ARE SOOOO NICE!’ His voice rang through the phone. As you neared his room you could hear the very same sobs echoing down the halls.

“I’m almost there. Try not to die, okay?” You offered, hanging up the phone before he could protest. When you reached his door, it flew open before you could even reach out to knock.

Kaito stood in the doorway, visibly sick; at least he wasn’t lying about that part. His face was all red, and puffy, his uniform a mess like his sweat stained hair. He was still crying, cheeks wet with fresh tears. He looked like a sad little puppy.

“Oh, my poor baby!” You cooed, voice dramatic as you swooped him into your arms. He embraced the affection, giving just a moment of side eye before diving back into your shoulder.

“Are you mocking me?” Came his muffled voice. You shook your head insistently, taking baby steps to guide him back to bed.

“Kaito! I would never! You are clearly on the verge of death!”

That was it. With a huff and another dramatic sob, he tore from your arms, body flying into the bed. He bundled into the blankets, hiding his face from you.

‘Im so pathetic even my own girlfriend makes fun of me!’ He sobbed out. What a poor, poor, dramatic boy.

You took the moment of his pouting as an opportunity to kick off your shoes. Careful not to step on any rogue limbs, you climbed into the bed next to him. Kaito looked up, his head peeking out from the blanket burrito he had turned himself into. When you met his gaze he began to inch closer like a little worm, nestling his head in your lap with a huff.

Your hand dropped down, rubbing idly along his blanket clad back. “Take a nap, Kai, I bet you’ll feel better when you wake up. I’ll stay here the whole time, pinky promise.” Your voice was convincing, as was the pinky you jutted out in his direction.

Kaito wiggled for a moment, unburying his arm to link his pinky with yours. Once he was satisfied he reburied it, resuming his burrito position on your lap.

“Nicest… girlfriend… EVER.” The words were accentuated with soft sobs, only calming down once your hand met his head. You raked your fingers through his hair, eyes focused on what little of his face was visible. Slowly the sobs died down, turning into soft snores. His body relaxed further into your legs, his messy blonde hair poking out of the blanket as drool dripped from the corner of his lips.

Kaito was a handful, but it was undeniable how cute he looked bundled up and in your lap.

[thehardy-boys]

The Platform Part 6 (Tommy Shelby x Reader)

Hey there! Thank you all again for your incredible kindness and encouragement! I'm so glad you are enjoying following this little story! I've tried to tag everyone who asked but if I've missed somebody please just let me know! Thank you all again for taking the time to read this!

Warnings: Finally some smut but literally not heavy...like hot kissing basically, vague talk of mental health problems

Part 6

Accompanied by Thomas’s pronouncement came Evelyn’s constant nagging. It got to the point where (y/n) finally snapped, “I don’t know! Please Evelyn, leave me alone so I can work.”

She huffed and sullenly returned to her desk and now (y/n) had to deal with the sour stares Evelyn gave her anytime they crossed paths.

It was true that (y/n) had no idea where she stood with the holiday party. She hated the idea of being surrounded by strangers, even worse upper class London strangers. This wasn’t really her area; never mind the fact she had nothing to wear to such an event. So, (y/n) never decided. She told herself she would think about it but when Saturday night came, and she found herself without realizing it hunting through her small closet and carefully placing her makeup it looked as if she had made her mind up a long time ago.

She took the evening train alone, her shawl wrapped around her shoulders for warmth. (y/n) had brought a small book to read on the train, one that fit into her handbag. But she found herself much preferring to watch the window. The frantic blurring of the darkening landscapes. (y/n) had moved from London to Small Heath a few years ago now. She had always wanted to go back but never found the excuse. She was somewhat worried that if she ever visited, she might never come back.

The fancy hotel that the party was being held in wasn’t that far a walk from the train station. The streets were crowded with the London night life. (y/n) fit right in with her shimmering dress. With each step closer her pulse thrummed louder in her ears. Her palms started to sweat. She would stay an hour, just an hour. The butler graciously took her shawl when she entered the decorative building and she steeled herself before she walked past him into the lion’s den.

(y/n) had never seen anything like it before. The entire room was made out to be a winter wonder land. Hanging baubles, mistletoe, pine trees lining the room, fake snow resting on surfaces, and twinkling fairy lights hanging on the walls. It was overwhelming. This was how the other half lived.  She wasn’t standing alone for long before Evelyn swooped out from a mass of people to grab her arm and drag her into the swarming herds.

(y/n) found herself joining a group of chattering people and then Evelyn was nudging her pointedly. (y/n) looked around and found Thomas, already watching her, whiskey glass in hand, and cigarette already fuming. He licked his lips slowly, they glistened and (y/n)’s eyes were drawn to them like moth to flame. One could describe Thomas’s look as hungry bordering on ravenous. It tickled something inside of her, knowing that it was her that was teasing this out of him.

“Mr. Shelby,” She started, and his eyes raked over her face, body, “Ms. Lowe wanted to pick your brains about horses. She’s very interested in the races.” And with the conversation starter done she slipped away, over to the bar. She wasn’t exactly playing hard to get but something similar. The moment they shared in the field was prominent in her mind. The heat of his body. There was something unspoken between them, a tether, a rope, some kind of connection.

She ordered herself a whisky and rested against the bar. It wasn’t long before a gentleman made himself known to her. This dress was doing her wonders. He was kind and respectful. He worked for a paper importer. He was rich. His hair was brown but not the same brown as another man she knew. His eyes were brown, as well. And when she looked up into them occasionally during their chat she was always hit with a wave of disappointment. They weren’t the ocean she had grown use to. She wouldn’t have been able to find them on the platform. But she brushed it off. He was kind she reminded herself. That was already asking too much these days.

She felt his hand first, on her lower back before she caught the familiar scent of oak and smoke. Then his voice, “Do you mind if a borrow, Ms. (l/n)?”

The man in front of her, like a deer in the headlights shook his head and gave his best effort at a nonchalant smile. But he was afraid. If the devil of Small Heath asks something of you, you give him it and thank him for not taking your soul.

Thomas guided her through the crowds, the room heavy with people’s laughter and words. He opened the back door, leading them onto the balcony. (y/n) took a deep inhale of the fresh air. She hadn’t realized how starved she was indoors.

She went over to lean her forearms against the cold stone banister that overlooked lavish botanical gardens. Thomas came up to stand next to her and when she looked over, he already had a cigarette hanging between his lips. Carelessly.

“Did you need something, Mr. Shelby?”

He shook his head, “I though’ you looked bored.”

Now she shook her head, “I wasn’t. He was a nice man.” And she could see in her peripheral how he turned to look at her head on. She returned his stance, one hip leaning on the stone now.

He ran a hand roughly through his hair, disturbing the carefully styled sweep of it. He inhaled, exhaled the tar, and then threw the rest over the balcony to land in the swirling darkness below them.

“A nice man, eh?”

She nodded. He took a step forwards.

“What does that make me?”

She swallowed, eyes flickering over his form, “What does it matter what I think of you? You can be any kind of man you want.”

He clenched his jaw. And then he was suddenly all over her. Crowding her in, crowding her out. His chest meeting her own. The rough exterior of his jacket rubbing up against her. His legs on either side of her own, caging her in. His arms swallowing her torso, pulling her into him. His face inches away. He was the only thing she knew. The only thing she could feel. She gasped at his movements. Her arms coming up to his shoulders without anything else better to do. She saw his pupils blown wide, like two voids. They sucked her in. No hope of escaping. No hope.

“What kind of man do you want?” He asked her, his Birmingham accent heavy over his words. She could feel his breath ghosting over her lips.

“You want a nice man?” And he complimented his words by a gentle stroke up and down her back. The goosebumps breaking out over her skin at his movements.

“Or do you want a man who will make you feel something?” And with this he pulled her flush against him. So close she could feel his excitement for her. The heat of it. And she responded in kind, she pulsed for him. Eyes fluttering. Desire pooling heavily in her belly. It made her want to roll over and open for him. He watched her reaction, her eyes, then down to her partially opened mouth, and then down her neck to her chest. She knew her nipples were hard, and he licked his lips seeing their inviting shape through the softness of her dress.

Then he kissed her. It was different than the platform. The platform was about comfort, reassurance, something secret and unspoken. There was nothing unspoken about this. His lips enveloped her bottom one, sucking, tugging a little. Before she knew it, she had opened for him with a whimper, her hands tightening around his shoulders. His tongue swept in, warm and hot. He pushed himself further against her if that was possible. She responded by trying, in vain to move her hips a little, get some kind of friction but she was trapped between the stone and his own weight. She had to take whatever he was willing to give. And tonight, him seemed generous.

His mouth moved to her neck. Breathy kisses, biting that caused her to let out small moans before he soothed her with his tongue. He nibbled behind her ear and found a spot that drove her out of her mind.

“Mr. Shelby...” She whispered. Her hands trailing up the shaved sides of his head to anchor in his dark, dark hair.

He went further, followed her collarbone, and gently pushed the small straps of her dress down each shoulder and all at once she was exposed to both him and the cold night air. But she wasn’t cold for long. His mouth latching on to her right nipple. Licking and tasting. He molded his hand over the other. Then switched. He tweaked her other nipple, stroked it. She was out of her mind. Her body was pulsing with desire. It was raw and he was real.

“Please…” She clutched his hair, tugging.

“Please what?” He moved back up, chest, collarbone, neck, cheek, and lips. He stole her breath again with another kiss. Slotting their lips together, licking in, tasting her, savoring her.

Thomas drew back to take her in. She must look like a wreck. Lipstick smudged, cheeks flushed, and hair loosened. Not to mention her dress half way down her body. (y/n) watched him in turn. His lips were swollen and carried the hint of her own lipstick. His hair was a mess due to her pulling. But he was beautiful, still.

“Please what?” He asked again, his voice rough. His hands caressing her waist. He then carefully took each of her dress straps and dragged them back up to her shoulders, shielding her once again from the night air.

She opened her mouth to respond but the door behind them opened, “Mr. Shelby? Mrs. Chestisen would like to see you.”

Thomas made sure to adjust his body to hide her from the newcomer. He just turned his head to respond, “Alright. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He stepped back from her as the balcony door closed and the butler returned to deliver the message. Her lower back protested as she pushed away from the hard stone. (y/n) brushed down her dress and fixed her straps. She wasn’t entirely sure where she stood with Thomas. She wasn’t sure how she let it happen but what she did know is that she wanted more. More of that mouth. The hands and the warmth.

He offered her his hand, “Come with me.”

Mrs. Chestisen was the rich wife of a politician. She was curious about expanding her investments into the Shelby Limited or that’s what (y/n) gathered while sipping her drink and listening to Thomas and the lady chat. They had met in a back room, still decorated with the winter theme and still incredibly ornate with a personal bar. (y/n) wasn’t entirely sure why Thomas had bothered to invite her to the meeting. Thomas had led her through and offered her a drink. Mrs. Chestisen didn’t even bat an eyelash at her presence, in fact she hadn’t even acknowledged her before jumping into her business. She was an uptight lady, crisp white dress, shiny, pointed shoes, a dramatic Christmas brooch. Her hair looked like it had been glued in place. (y/n) didn’t like her.

“Ms. (l/n), wasn’t it?” (y/n) looked over from her position in front of a large panting on the other side of the room. Mrs. Chestisen had spoken to her. (y/n) walked over to the two of them. Thomas was leaning against the bar and the lady was sitting on one of the bar stools. Her back ram rod straight.

“Yes?” (y/n) stopped in front of her.

“Your brother, Matthew (l/n)?”

(y/n)’s blood ran cold. Matthew.

Thomas’s head looked over at her, taking in her sudden change of character.

“Yes?” Her voice soft.

Mrs. Chestisen smirked, “He served with my son. I heard what happened. I wanted to express my condolences.”

“Thank – ”

“Not that you need them.”

(y/n) blinked, “I’m sorry?”

“Yes, you should be.” Mrs. Chestisen snapped back.

Thomas looked between the two of them, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What are you talking about?” (y/n) responded hoarsely. She was caught off guard. Who was this woman?

The lady slipped off her chair and walked towards her, “I’m talking about what you did to him, Matthew.”

“What I did to him?”

“That you killed him.” She hissed out, “When my son found out he was beside himself. I had to send him to a sanatorium for months, months. It tore my family apart!”

(y/n) stood stock still. Her blood turning to stone. Her heart thumping in her ears. A fire burning deep within her suddenly alighted.

Matthew. Poor Matthew. He came back from the war, but he was…different. Absent. Twisted. Gaunt. Haunted. He moved back to Small Heath to be with their mother. He needed family. He needed warmth but he was unraveling. Unraveling and when (y/n) moved back to take care of him he overwhelmed her. He fell apart in her hands as she desperately tried to put him back together again.

“Killed him!? I looked after him. I took care of him. I tried to help him but he, he couldn’t be saved. He couldn’t – I couldn’t help him. I didn’t know how.” Her breath came short, her fists clenched in anger.

Mrs. Chestisen scoffed, “It’s clear you couldn’t help him.”

(y/n) stood there in utter shock, in complete anger, “I don’t have to stand her and take this. I don’t have to stay here and listen to you judge me, re-write the past. I don’t know you. I don’t owe you an explanation.” (y/n) left and she didn’t spare a glance at Thomas because she had a feeling. A terrible, terrible feeling.

She pushed through the crowds, the throngs, she ignored the heavy tones of Christmas carols and the sharp scent of nutmeg and cinnamon. She dodged Evelyn’s outstretched hands, and she broke out into the lobby. The butler placed her shawl around her shoulders and bid her a goodnight, but she couldn’t stop. The freezing winter night slapped her in the face, and she took a deep breath to steady her trembling hands. She was so angry. That lady had no right to speak to her like that. To say his name, to accuse her. (y/n) felt rubbed raw, split open.

She walked further up the street debating the options of catching a late train or just ordering a car but then she heard him call for her.

“(y/n)!” He came down the front steps of the lavish building and walked briskly over to her. His arms reaching out to her, and they just brushed her waist before she walked backwards to maintain their distance.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” (y/n) hissed at him, clutching her shawl tighter around her. Their moment on the balcony seemed miles away now. The desire she had felt for him, that had pulled her forward into his arms was iced over. She felt humiliated.

“Don’t touch me.” She repeated softer and he held up both his hands as a sign of acceptance, but he didn’t look happy about it.

“Just let me explain—”

“No, No, I don’t think I need an explanation. You knew she knew me. You knew that she knew my brother, didn’t you. You used me. All this time, then? All this fucking time? I’m sick of people taking my life apart. I’m tired of people telling me what happened. I know what happened!” Her voice broke and she trembled under the dark gaze of the winter air. Thomas made a move to walk forward but she shook her head. His face was unreadable, indifferent and it angered her.

“You’re a terrible man. To use my brother against me. I didn’t kill him.” She whispered out feebly into the street, “I didn’t kill him.”

Thomas stood there; his mouth slightly parted at her tirade. His breath came out and clouded around him.

“I regret it.” (y/n) broke the building silence between them, “I regret that moment on the platform. I regret tonight.”

She turned and walked back up the dark road to the train station. She caught the last train to Small Heath. She sat and looked out the window, but it was so dark out there that she could only see her own reflection. She had been right all along, silly girl, stupid girl.

Part 5 --- Part 7

Tags: @black-kitten-imagines, @illuminwtesz, @slutforcoffein, @madeinuk, @in0320, @globetrotter28, @txmxav, @christina-who,

[emyluwinter]

You know, it seemed strange to me? that in both events with tsums Yuu and Grimm did not appear anywhere.

Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe….

While all the students are sleeping peacefully in their cozy soft beds. And only ghosts tirelessly perform their endless and never-ending work. One student can't sleep because of brain fever.

The Onboro dorm. 2 o'clock in the morning. Yuu after 6 cups of coffee and a crazy plan to draw a circle to teleport to their world on pieces from newspapers that they found in the attic. They hadn't slept for three days. They spent so much time in the forbidden sections of the library and read so many confusing lost texts with black and not so much magic that their brains literally boiled with information. Their hands are stained with ink up to the elbows, as if they themselves got out of their overblot. Their hair is so disheveled that a couple of crows definitely already want to rent this "mobile nest" Their bags under their eyes could easily hold the entire stock of apples from the village of Felmer for storage in the winter season.

Finally the formula is complete. Weighed down by insane fatigue and exhaustion, their half-empty eyes follow every line. Praying that their efforts and torments will finally be fulfilled in full.

Portal and the formula works. Grimm watches in horror from his hiding place with the ghosts.

But why does that glow suddenly begin to shine on them from above in the window?Not in the room as they expected and hoped?

Yuu looks out of the window when over the building of their dormitory just at the moment when a hole appears in the sky.

Is this the entrance to their world?!Did they really manage to do it?

-HOLY ICE CREAM. DID IT WORK?! How am I going to jump there now???

Having tasted all the adrenaline from joy, confusion, fear and delight, Yuu see how something penetrates through the hole. Hell no, that's not what they wanted.

Wait a minute.

That wasn't part of the plan.

After looking closely, what kind of creatures are so slowly floating down from the hole. Curiously, the creatures are very similar to NRC students. At least they look charming, but Yuu is not going to go through all the overblots again and have deal not with one harmful ass but with technically two??



Well



This is not a portal to their home. It's not even their dimension or anything like that.



Yuu feel a nervous tic in the eye and eyebrows. All the sleepless nights went to hell, as did their remaining nerves. Now it will definitely be necessary to deal with this as well. Instead of helping themselves, Yuu spread out more rakes on the road and added more small slippery balls on top to make the whole situation EVEN worse.

With a bang and rage, the Prefect closes the window and goes to sleep cursing loudly. Intending to clean up the mess tomorrow morning, rather than dig his grave even deeper.





Attempt number two.

This time Yuu did not sleep for 4 days. 8 cups of coffee drunk. The ghosts introduce a mandatory rule not to give the prefect Coffee and Energy drinks. Never. Under no circumstances. No, it is not allowed during the exams.

"It will definitely work this time." - they purr encouragingly to themselves. A huge canvas of paper glued together with scotch tape and tears filled their entire living room without leaving even a piece for a step. Even Grimm had to be careful not to get his paws and fur dirty in ink or pieces of tape or glue.

Grimm definitely doesn't like the heading - "Fierce crazy experiments with magic and portals from Prefect 2.0"

The portal is triggered again. But again not as planned. Yuu see the light again and look out the window. Another hole in the sky above the building.

-What the hell?!Why is it so high and the same hole???

and

Tsums are falling from the sky again. Now other students. Another headache and worries.

The ghosts had to resort to magic on Yuu to stop them from trying to climb the ladder and get into the hole in the sky above the dormitory. The prefect was wrapped in a soft and fluffy blanket and given hot milk and honey to somehow calm their rage from resentment and disappointment.

…To be continued?

[ofduskanddreams]

My Name, Your Confession

formerly titled: "He Who Must Not Be Named"

This fic was originally written for Elucien Week 2022. Now it's been heavily revised (2k words added) and rebranded ahead of the second true installment that will be coming relatively soon.

Summary:

Elain and Lucien are both determined to ignore the bond at Nesta’s mating ceremony, but their ideas backfire as the bond chafes them both to a breaking point. Elain refuses to say Lucien’s name when he’s around—Lucien vows to make her scream it before the night ends. Is it really recklessness if it’s fate?

Find the fic here on AO3. Enjoy the excerpt below!

[Elain POV - SFW]

It wasn’t hard to find him, she just followed that little light in her chest and the sound of a beating heart to the wisteria-covered stone pavilion at the edge of the Sidra, far from the lights and music of the party. 

He was standing, watching the river flow by. A light breeze toyed with long, brilliant red strands of hair, carrying the scent of sunshine and cloves right to her. Damn her traitorous body, but Elain felt heat rise in her cheeks at the sight of him in the moonlight; at the ridiculous breadth his shoulders displayed by a stupid, perfectly tailored jacket.

“Elain.” He greeted her tersely, not even bothering to turn around.

She ignored how the sound of her name on his lips made a thrill run through her. 

“Not enjoying the party?” She leaned against a pillar, examining her lacquered nails.

He turned around, a fire burning within his russet eye and gave her a fake little smile. “You aren’t either, seeing as you’re out here.” He scoffed, eyes narrowing. “What? Not interesting enough to keep the shadowsinger entertained?” 

Usually the words would have cut deep, but Elain knew this was nothing more than a barb meant to bait her. She wanted to show this arrogant asshole that she could play his games better than he ever could; to make him feel an ounce of the turmoil that overwhelmed her whenever he was near.

Elain pushed herself off the pillar and took slow steps towards him, swinging her hips a little more than necessary. “Maybe I was the one who got bored.”

“Took you long enough,” he muttered.

She cocked her head, taking the moment as an opportunity to rake her eyes over him—a luxury she hadn’t allowed herself yet this evening. “Why are you out here?”

His face as she approached him could only have been described as predatory. Something about it made her blood sing. He stalked towards her until he was close enough that she had to tilt her chin up to look at him.

“Do you want the real answer, or the proper one?” His voice was quieter now, lower, and delectably edged with danger. 

Elain felt her skin pebble at the sound, and her nipples peaked. A kind of smug satisfaction washed over her as she watched his eyes dip down to them and widen—they were clearly visible through the thin lilac silk. His heartbeat quickened.

The hunger in his gaze made Elain feel powerful, bold. “I think it's about time we dropped the pretense, don’t you?”

— — —Read the full piece here.

I had like 20 followers and 2 fandom friends when this was originally written, so the taglist is literally any follower who I think might be interested (If you've already read this, know that there have been some significant changes.)

[bradenthompson]

The Starfield Experience: Crimson Fleet

Never before have I been so mixed on a video game. And that's really something, bc I'm a little shit who isn't happy with anything.

I thought, rather than attempt to "review" Starfield, I'm just gonna catalogue my journey through the respective faction questlines, culminating in actually doing the main story. To star: Space Pirates. Yo ho hohohohohohohohohohhoohoohohohohooohoohhohohhhohohhhhh

Of course it's a pirates life

so two things motivated me going evil mode: for one thing, I like pirates already. Second thing is feeling out the game's morality system. Are we getting Skyrim-style slaps on the wrist or can I be, if you will, the king of the pirates? I had been talking in some Discord, doesn't matter which one, about morality choices in video games, and decided, since I was agnostic to Starfield, I would stress test the system by being the worst guy possible. And the Crimson Fleet, the game's premiere bandit faction, promised to get me there.

The way you initiate this quest is kind of funny and also immediately disappointing. I can accept having to join up in some way other than asking the first pirate who doesn't immediately open fire, but... okay so like--

The first time I was arrested in Starfield (it can be for literally anything) instead of being taken to jail I was instead taken to the UC Vigilance, a giant space cop flagship, and interred under Commander Ikande. He made me a deal: rather than serve my sentence, I can instead become a dirty filthy stinky RAT. He wanted me to join up with the Crimson Fleet and find out whatever they're up to because they were apparently real excited about something. You can refuse him, and I guess proceed to jail, but I wanted to be a pirate anyway and accepted, planning on cutting Ikande off the moment I could***************

What sort of crime did I pull? Failed a pickpocket check. Intentionally. Because by then I had already killed like three people unnoticed, one of which out in broad daylight trying to get caught but New Atlantis clearly doesn't do "see something say something." By then I just wanted to see what jail looks like, man. Now I did pick the "Gangster" trait at the character creation, a background picked up by Ikande in dialogue. So that was cool. Idk what he brings up for players who didn't pick that. "Based on your failed attempt to steal a lollipop, I think you're just who we need to infiltrate the Turbo Murder Gang."

Turbo Murder Gang

The Crimson Fleet initiation was deceptively simple. I first meet up with first mate Naeva Mora. She sends me off to kill a Crimson Fleet deserter named Austin Rake. Zooming off to his location, I discover Rake had shacked up with a civilian ship. Boarding, I ask for Rake, they say they don't have him, I say I'm going to shoot everybody (evil character), they say "oh nevermind he's right here," he shoots everyone, and then I shoot him. Yo ho.

After that, Naeva decided I was one cold sonofabitch and invited me to The Key, Crimson's Fleet main hideout. Here I met their leader, Delgado, and realized terribly quickly that things were gonna be a lot less violent than I was anticipating.

Before setting you loose, and constantly as you report back to his bitch ass, Ikande urged me to avoid killing anyone. Seeing as he was a space cop, I ignored this. I'm about to join a gang of space pirates whose canned NPC text is twenty four variations of "hmm I think I'll have murder for dinner." Odds are slim we avoid violence.

Delgado's grand plan is finding the Space One Piece. Legend has it an old banking ship crashed out in wildspace some years ago, and the credits (bc we're in space) inside would set us up for life. It's very pirate-y to be hunting for treasure, okay, I get it. But space pirates? We'd be robbing a bank with extra steps. We're really building to a bunch of credits? This is not a game where money is hard to come by; half the NPCs are walking about with 1000 bucks minimum, and baby I'm running a pickpocket build.

ugh, fine, okay, treasure hunt. But I better get to plunder a few ships along the way.

Ice Planet with a bunch of bug enemies

(I didn't take any screenshots and couldn't find any online, so here's a picture of Greenland)

Our first mission was to go to the ice planet The Key orbits in order to find some leads on the ultimate treasure. This ice planet prison does lead to some lore on the Fleet, but man I was pitching a fit the whole time. I wanna plunderrrrrrrrrruh. Suffice to say my first impression of space pirate questing was not too exciting. All the enemies here are native bugs you gotta aim at the floor to shoot. Felt very wimpy, even when the big one showed up for a boss fight later.

But that's ignoring this quest's diamond in the rough, a man named Mathis:

He's also a Crimson Fleet initiate, just like me. When we landed on ice planet the game started feeding me all these dialogue options to antagonize Mathis. Unprompted, mind you. It's always trying to underhand me some bad guy options, and this time they were all "fuck Mathis" flavored. I thought it was funny, so I picked them every time. This got Mathis quite heated with me, and to put the candle on this filler episode birthday cake, Mathis and I found ourselves on the other side of a cave in, separated from the rest of the pirates. Here's when he dropped all the antagonism and immediately dealt me into his plan: kill Delgado. Why he wanted to do this, I still don't know. Why he would invite me in on the plan, even though we hate each other, I wish I knew. But I wasn't exactly loyal to Delgado, by any means. That, and when Mathis brought this up I started to turn around on the guy. Thought "wow, Mathis doesn't fuck around. Maybe he's alright."

From then on, Mathis and I were pals. We killed bugs, found sick gamer loot, and he was over the moon when I told (lied to) Delgado he was one hell of a pirate. Not that killing bugs in a space prison would prove this, anyway. But Delgado was happy with our work, and from then on we were Crimson Fleet bona fides (the way I'm pronouncing that is a secret, oohohohohoho). Soon after this, Mathis pulled me aside and suggested we drop that "killing Delgado" business. It was never brought up again. Still dunno if I would've gone through with it or not. Probably would've.

Siren of the Snores

(not my screenshot)

I haven't been super clear on what this ultimate treasure is, and I have to be now for any part of this next mission to make sense.

Kryx' Legacy is the name. All I knew at the start was it's a bunch of credits. Come to find out, Kryx is the founder of the Crimson Fleet and Legacy is the name of a GalBank ship lost in an unknown nebula. I said this earlier but I wanna be super clear right now. A high ranking GalBank executive, with the credentials needed to get inside the bank's archives (housing the final known location of the Legacy) is currently lounging on a big space yacht. This is the Siren of the Stars and my goodness is it a snoozer of a quest. And it shouldn't be! It's perfectly in line with my character build! Even so! Even sooo!!!

It's a whole process just getting to this executive guy. Gotta talk to all the patrons until one of them decides to tell you something useful. Then you talk to his mistress, then you talk to some third guy, then you talk to... whatever his name was. It's talking in circles with one--maybe two--persuasion checks. On one save, I went postal. Killed everyone on the stupid ship and got the info I needed. Only to discover my Crimson Fleet contact inside the ship, guy by the name of Rokov, got scared(?) and locked himself inside a room I couldn't open??? Sorry, Rokov the space pirate, is this not your speed?

Ugh. Loaded a save and did the quest orthodox. After one lap of this damn boat I was sick to death of it. Seven laps later I was thinking of quitting the Fleet. They talk a big game. You're in for life or you're dead, sucker. Or else what, Naeva? You're gonna send three ships at a time every six hours? Execute this (picture me flippin her the bird. Hell yea).

Quick thing about Naeva Mora: she gave me an optional goal in this quest. Steal an expensive award set with precious space diamonds. Only one woman on board had access to the award. But I, the silver tongued devil of the stars, was able to persuade her into giving me the key to the vault. You ask, how. How did you, a space pirate dressed in rags, convince a stuffy lady on an expensive pleasure cruise to just give me her multimillion dollar trinket? I don't know. This is the most absurd persuasion check in the game, so far.

From there I jetted over to New Atlantis and snuck my way inside the GalBank archives. There was less money to steal than you would think but I suppose this isn't the vault. Killed some mercs, got the location.

How are we doing on heist missions over here?

So we've got the location of the Legacy, but no way to get close. See, it's in a hazardous nebula that'd fry any normal ship that dares approach. The cynical man would assume the game's solution was some novelty ship part that protects from the nebula and has zero function outside of this questline. And sometimes cynics are correct.

We need the ComSpike, dammit! What's a ComSpike? I forget. Protects ships from bad nebula juju. I'm not knocking the story for details that I forget, to be clear. Nor was I happy that the pirates were sending me off on another secret heist. In fairness, I didn't have to do these missions the way the game suggested. I could go postal on every facility I'm told to infiltrate (more on that later). But because I was so oddly punished for doing so on the last quest, that led me to assume some approaches were preordained. The Crimson Fleet has connections to uphold (WHY).

Whatever. I go to New Atlantis and talk to Huan Daiyu, pictured above. She's a smuggler, owns a pretty cool ship called the Jade Swan (am I a bad person for predicting her ship would be called the Jade Something?). I'm gonna bum a ride to her next dropoff, dropping off myself and sneaking aboard a research station that just so happens to be working on that ComSpike technology. In the opening steps of this quest, I encountered the first real Bethesda Moment of this game.

Picture this: I'm on the intercom with Huan. She tells me I need to find a keycard to get to the next level of this station. In her dialogue, explicitly, she suggests picking someone's pocket. Well, you read my mind, Huan. Just so happens I've been dumping skill points into pickpocketing...

Imagine my deflation when I had checked every pocket in that damn storage room, only to find the keycard was on a table and only accessible by talking to multiple guards in a specific sequence. Let's be really nice and say not all of Huan's suggestions are going to work. Dynamic world, indeed! I'm gonna throw myself out the airlock!

Throughout the infiltration I was only answering Huan's calls to be nice. Couldn't trust one bit of advice from her after that. She's not a reliable source. So I throw on a security uniform, talk my way into the engineering bay, find the ship fitted with the ComSpike, and perform a high-precision shipjacking outta there. Not an ounce of booty plundered, not a doubloon to be seen. What a life, the pirate's life.

We have Night City at home

It only occurred to me in this mission. Something that should've occurred to me about three heist missions ago.

The NPCs in this game are so fucking mean, all the time.

It's not even prompted. Mathis, I get. I was busting his chops something fierce. But everyone else is just off rip "wassup dickshit, I'm Suzy Cosmonaut, and you're dirt on my boot. Hows about you go find a USB stick but hey don't forget to kiss my ass on your way out."

What am I supposed to do? I say something rude back. What, I'm supposed to take that? My dream was to fill my ship with my best buddies in the galaxy but I think I mostly hate all of these people.

Ugh. I fly off to Neon. Great city name, guys. This must be the criminal underbelly. Where do you think they shack up? The part of Neon literally called the Underbelly? And what do you suppose this crime syndicate is called?

Neon is a city built out of placeholder names. Indistinguishable from any cyberpunk town in all of fiction. Uninspiring place. One of my character traits is being from here, which is more embarrassing than the city I'm actually from irl. But fuck it, whatever, let's ride.

Estelle Vincent is my contact in Neon. She knows where I can find the schematics for the conduction grid the Fleet will need to access nebula space. But she won't give that info for free! Nothing comes cheap in Neon, baby!

I was in full Fuck It mode by this point of the questline. My promise for this quest was to kill everybody I could get away with killing (more, on, that, later). So when Estelle wants me to go talk to Generdyne executive Ayumi Komiko about gaining access to their computers, well... sorry Ayumi. Victim of circumstance.

After Ayumi was super dead, I stomped over to Generdyne with her access card and opened fire. Terrible scene, no survivors, yo-ho-ing all the way. One must imagine justice served somewhere in this--no doubt cancelled out by the rest of the carnage. But whatever. This is the piratiest I've felt so far. I shoot my way to the top floor, where the brother of the CEO just gives up the computer. Turns out he hates his stupid CEO brother and I should probably kill him too. Noted.

When I go to meet back with Estelle, that Generdyne CEO is sitting in her place. He offers me a deal to sell out Estelle, which I refuse. Estelle was my test subject, to see if I could make someone less mean to me by sticking my neck out. I lied and said it was all me, he didn't believe me, I put a shotgun to his temple and realized he's an essential NPC and cannot be killed. Party's over.

After this, would you believe it, Estelle did like me! I only had to sell myself out in her place and pay her like 9000 credits for like no reason. But I turned someone around. Now it was time to finally get me treasure.

The One Piece Is Real

I'm gonna bring this up now before I forget. Periodically, after every heist or so, I was instructed (by the quest markers, not anyone else) to report back to the UC Vigilance and Commander Ikande. Because this is also Point Break and I'm technically a government agent. Despite me showing no loyalty, lying to his face every chance I had, insulting him and his crew, and straight up shooting his flagship twice, I was Ikande's spy on the inside and expected to give report. The whole questline I was looking for outs. Some reason to cut these dorks off and go full pirate. To my knowledge, there's scarce ways of doing this. Won't say there isn't one, just nothing immediately obvious.

Until now.

I'm called to the bridge and Ikande's super pissed about my Neon killing spree. Just steaming mad. So mad he's ready to terminate this deal and send me to jail. I give his crew the rope-a-dope and run back to my ship, just barely shootin out of there. Exciting! Felt appropriately climax-ey, and it's genuinely cool that was a moment I could orchestrate with my own choices.

No time to lose. I'm off to Kryx' Legacy while the rest of the Fleet at the Key gets ready for the UC Vigilance to come knocking. Should've guessed I'd also be getting the ultimate treasure alone. This was so far the most impressive setpiece of the game. The thundering of the space lightning outside while I navigated the dead stranded spaceship was sufficiently immersive. I was immersed, for the first time in this game, and I was savoring this moment. The flashlight was on, people.

It's sci fi, so all this treasure is loaded onto an external hard drive. Look, I didn't need a big wooden chest with gold doubloons spilling out but I shouldn't be able to fit a bajillion dollars in my backpack. As soon as I have the treasure, the ship is critically damaged and I gotta skedaddle. I'm always down for a "flee the facility" type mission and this one delivers. Hop back in my ship, make just enough distance to avoid the magnificent explosion of the Legacy, and now all that's left is to get the gold home. Easily the best quest in the Crimson Fleet, no contest.

And now, the worst quest in the Crimson Fleet

angry emoji angry emoji devil horn emoji angry emoji

Right when I get back to the Key, Delgado tells me the UC Vigilance is knocking at out doors. It's now or never, them or us. Turns out, had I not burned that bridge earlier, I would've had the choice of fighting for either the space pirates or the space cops. My decision had been made hours ago, and that aforementioned bridge was aforementionably burnt. We're fighting for the pirates, gah dammit.

Oh my god

Who playtested this. Still riding in the starter ship, I was now tasked with fighting off like a half dozen ships double my level and working off WWII flying ace AI. I died, and I counted, nine times. Half of which in the first two minutes. oooooh, gamer rage. By attempt ten, and sorry for breaking my own immersion, by I jumped outta that part of space, over to a shipwright, and got my weapons upgraded along with a new shield. I could barely squeeze out a win with this boost. No I did not lower the difficulty because I shouldn't have to, dammit, and yes this put and impenetrable stank on the final leg of this questline.

One silver lining to all this: I'm a reincorporation loving person, and was delighted to see all those pirates I had worked with across the questline suddenly swooping in for the final stand. Cinematic stuff, I loved it. Mathis was there, Rokov was there (who?), Huan was there, Estelle was there. Even Adler Kemp was there. I didn't even mention him, he seemed so inconsequential. But he showed up! Love that sort of thing.

We in tandem blow away the auxiliary space cops (not for lack of gamer rage) and board the Vigilance to kill Ikande. High energy firefight, this. I'm constantly impressed by the number of players in any one fight, in this game. Back in the Skyrim xbox 360 days, I remember doing the civil war questline and going "wow, there's like twenty NPCs in this thing." In Starfield, that number's the standard. Truly next gen, amiright guys.

Me and my friends blow our way through the Vigilance, I spend like ten minutes looking for a healing item of some sort, free some prisoners, and eventually we're at the bridge. The game even leaves in some briefs moments where I can chat with all the friends[citation needed] I made along the way. Me and Huan high five. There wasn't an animation for this or anything, but I imagine we did a jumping high five. Excuse me for roleplaying. Me and Mathis bump hips.

At the bridge, and really I should've seen this coming, there's a dialogue with Commander Ikande. The honorable man he is, Ikande calls for his crew to abandon ship and plans to self-destruct the Vigilance with all of us on it. There's precious little time to talk him out of this, and scarce options for doing so. But I'm a gangster, and have exclusive ganger dialogue options. So I have the option of telling Ikande "hey, cancel the self destruct or we're gonna torture your crew," thinking this would open up more dialogue.

But he chickens out right here. Goes "okay, fine, I'll cancel it just don't hurt my crew." And like, dude. We've been hurting your crew. They're all dead, actually. This is the most empty threat possible in this situation and this disciplined space cop chief buckles at my first threat. What a guy. We take him prisoner and the Vigilance is ours. Supreme Victory.

I deeeeed it

Here comes my favorite part of any Bethesda questline epilogue. When all the celebration dialogue is exhausted and all the NPCs just start to aimlessly wander away, throwing out a few more canned "wahoo we did it" lines. It's a joy, I'm so glad Starfield still does this.

Delgado gets me my cut of the Legacy: 200k credits. This feels like a lot of money for this point in the game. I have seen ships that cost twice this, but it's a decent reward all the same. That, and I had picked up plenty of paychecks along the way, so my ultimate takeaway is bigger.

Best of all, Naeva doesn't think I'm lower than dirt anymore. She gives me a cool Crimson Fleet jacket and a room on the Key. I promptly placed one chair down in the dead center of the room. Home. Naeva's a classic NPC who talks a herculean game and does jack shit the whole questline. I warmed up to her.

With my new credits, I bought a Crimson Fleet Phantom ship, and hired my first crew member. Finding him piss drunk in the Key's bar, I threw my arm around the shoulder of good ol' Mathis and offered him a place on my ship. He agreed, now my best buddy and no longer wishing to kill Delgado. I also tried to get Huan on my crew, but I guess she's got her own thing going on. I wished her well, Mathis and I cleared out bounties, and we took off for our next adventure.

Crimson Fleet: In Conclusion

Pretty mixed on this. While there's a pretty strong ending despite the awful awful HORRIBLE ship battle, everything leading up to this felt distinctly un-pirate. As if the game wasn't comfortable with me going morally undercarriage. Odd stance to take, with the space pirate questline, but this is the studio that watered down the Dark Brotherhood (I said it). While the gameplay loop is showing me some promise, I was always feeling like I had to fight the game to play it my way. Maybe I take this as a lesson: I gotta commit to the type of character I wanna be. The game will attempt to lure me away, but I gots to be evil.

My next questline is the Freestar Rangers, and only because that's the first major one I was introduced to apart from the main quest. See ya there, I say shooting away in my new spaceship which you're gonna have to imagine.

[hotheadedheroprimary]

When Stars Align

(A Kiribaku x F!Reader fic)

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

(Chapter 2) First Day Jitters

The day is finally here. You have quite literally been counting down the days awaiting this moment. Sleep wasn't exactly a commodity the previous night but that fatigue is hardly on your mind. The best hero school in all of Japan, possibly the world, is standing in front of you in all of its magnificent glory. Nature must be mirroring you because you swear the sun just got a little bit brighter. This is such a tremendous occasion, a three-year-long dream finally coming to fruition, so why can't you move? Your feet have opted to remain firmly in place, settling into the concrete beneath you as though freshly poured and drying around your shoes. The longer you stare at the gates, the deeper you sink.

"Hey," a grainy, yet soft and excitable, call bellows from behind you. "Congrats on making it in!"

Lifting away from the invisible chain and ball, you turn on your heel to greet the familiar voice. Despite recognising the voice, the face of this teenager is one that you are presumedly unacquainted with. His bright, red hair is the first notable feature, almost perfectly matching his eyes. He must use a lot of products to keep his hair in place like that. Your whole face crumples into a scrunch as you try to figure out who it is you're looking at. Names are something you have never been good with but you never usually forget a face, especially one that seems to beam like the sun itself. With a note made of your confusion, he takes a step closer and smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry, I forgot about the whole 'blindness' situation," he admits whilst extending a hand out to you. "I'm the guy from the practical exam."

Of course, that's where you know that voice from! Although, from what little you were able to see, you could have sworn his hair was black. Never the matter. It actually looks really cool, reminiscent of a certain Red Riot what with the way it's been styled. So, this is the student that oh-so-selflessly stuck by your side during your starry-eyed endeavour. It doesn't appear to you as much of a shock, he has that kindness behind his eyes: the kind of sweet nature one finds supporting a puppy's grin. If it weren't for this, you would be a sweltering, blabbered mess. Despite the red-head also passing the exam, you can't rid of the stone in your stomach, as much as it may have eroded by now. He doesn't seem like the type to hold a grudge or harbour any mallice but that isn't entirely the point. You were still reckless and someone could have gotten hurt by your hand. Speaking of hands, you should really shake his. You do just that and wave the other dismissively.

"Hey, s'all good! Glad I have a face to put to the voice now," you laugh in the hopes of easing some tension; there isn't any, it's purely your own anxieties you're attempting to whither. "Just need the name now."

He bares a bright grin as your hands clasp together. "Eijiro Kirishima."

"(Y/n) (L/n)."

Greetings set aside, your fingers return to the sanctuary of your rucksack straps. That's one name down, only 18 more to go. With both parties eager to start, you make haste in beginning your journey to becoming a hero and that starts with walking to class. The occasional conversation regarding favourite heroes and such ensue before a burning question takes the spotlight.

"I hope this doesn't come across rude," Kirishima starts, almost hesitant to ask, "but where are you from?"

"Guessing the accent is noticeable, huh?"

"You could say that," he concurs, rubbing the back of his neck. "That and you kinda blurted something out during the exam that I couldn't understand."

Initially, you're stumped, struggling to pick your brain for the aforementioned occurrence. It takes a second to rake over the memory and that pit deepens upon remembering why it was that happened in the first place. Yet again, if his focus is on what you said at the time rather than the event itself then that must mean things are all good. Yeah! The only one mulling over this seems to be you. That thought alone is enough encouragement to shine over the deep, blue cascade sunken into your chest. No more guilt. Not until you engage in purposeful wrong-doings, anyway.

"Well, to answer your question, I'm from England," you finally disclose, reassuring his apparent rudeness as a mere interest with a grin.

"That's so cool! Okay, another question then: why move to Japan?"

"I first heard about U.A. when I was 12, I think, and it just seemed like the right fit." You shrug and readjust your bag against your back. "I knew what I wanted more than anything in that moment. I've always wanted to be a hero ever since I got my quirk and U.A. is said to be the best, so I thought aim high, y'know? It took a lot of work but my parents and I moved over here a couple years back and here we are. Luckily, my Paps was raised In Japan, so we had that working in our favour."

That's an attitude Kirishima can get behind. Such devotion is something to be admired. It goes without saying that he was already impressed with you back at the practical exam. The fact that you were persistent in continuing despite your lack of vision made an impact on him. You won't know it but he was over the moon when he found out that you'd be a classmate of his.

"Your parents sound amazing!" he beams, in turn making you smile. "Not only that but to move to the other side of the world to become a hero? That's aspirational!"

"Hey, dream big, right?"

The two of you share a chortle before you're diverted to your destination. Upon entering the classroom, the abundance of colourful personalities is immediately obvious. A fair few seats are still awaiting to be filled but you may as well get acquainted with the current rabble. Kirishima takes the first leap in making his presence known with exuberant confidence. He introduces himself to an already established group, seemingly familiar with a pink-haired girl based on how they are talking with one another. The corners of your lips turn up with the girl's volume, seemingly ecstatic about Kirishima's hair change. So, it was different from before. You had a hunch.

Peering around, you can't say there are any identifiable faces on your end. You've been living in Japan for a few years now, which is plenty of time to establish bonds, but your background is, unfortunately, the reason you never made any real close friends. It must have been a stroke of bad luck but most of the students in your middle school didn't look favourably towards foreigners. Some managed to dismount from their high horses in giving you a chance but there was still an air of awkward tension with every conversation and encounter. Thinking about it, you recall a few students mentioning that they would be trying out for U.A. You would never wish bad luck on anyone but there is certainly a wave of relief at the fact that no one from your old school is here. Does that make you a bad person?

You don't get a chance to answer your own question, having been disrupted by a ruckus between two students. One appears to be scolding the other for resting his feet upon his desk, spouting something about being disrespectful to past generations of school attendees, you think. You didn't start listening to the dispute until halfway through the lecture, so you're a little confused. Part of you wishes you hadn't tuned in.

"Like I care," the blonde declares smugly, turning an eye up at the other. "What school are you from, you extra?"

Extra? Who does this guy think he is? This sounds like a classic case of main character syndrome if ever you've seen it. You try your best not to judge so quickly but this guy has a sinister energy to him that is hard to ignore. It isn't unheard of for heroes to don a more intimidating approach - Endeavour and King Orca come to mind - but this student seems like he's in a different league. The longer you stare at him, the more you feel like you've seen him somewhere before. Did he attend your middle school? Nah. With an attitude as rotten as his, you'd recognise him immediately. Was he in the same testing location as you for the practical exam? Not likely. You can't think of a quirk to associate with him and you always remember a person's quirk. Perhaps he's a member of your weekend roller disco. Doubtful. Something tells you that isn't his thing. On the news? Yes! That's it! He was the kid that got attacked by that sludge monster last year. A pride settles into your belly with your deduction.

"Hey! What are you looking at?"

Nevermind. Like a deflated balloon left out in the snow, that warmth in your stomach shrivels up. Eyes of crimson stare you down with an eclipsed annoyance and your spine stiffens. If it hadn't been for the fact that he's a fellow classmate of a highly esteemed hero school, you'd think he was a villain. Making enemies on the first day is a no-go. Making any enemies at all in this school isn't on your agenda, actually.

"Sorry." In the hopes of reconciling, you stand up straight. "The commotion just caught my attention."

"You should mind your damn business, foreigner," he sneers.

Your body tenses in tandem with your newly clenched fists, unable to withhold the bitterness burning in the back of your throat. "If you weren't so loud, maybe I would."

A curly plume of green shakes vigorously in the corner of your eye and voiceless sirens blare from the freckled face sat below. This might be one of those situations in which you should have kept your mouth shut. You don't typically like to sharpen your tongue, especially on strangers, but the unsavoury name spat in your direction hit a nerve. Too many times have you had to endure such name-calling, and too many times have you let it run over you like scolding, hot water. A new school means a fresh start and the opportunity to quit being a pushover. It's just a shame that this first test of courage is in the face of assumingly the most aggressive student in the classroom. He takes a step up from his seat, palms crackling like embers to damp wood. A fire quirk of some description? They aren't entirely uncommon. Guess this guy is a firecracker figuratively and literally. That's good to know. Looking as though he's ready for a fight, you prepare to stand your ground - not exactly how you envisioned your first day of school going but you never back down. Never.

"If you're here to cause a disruption, then get out."

Everyone's attention is tugged away from you to the outside of the classroom where a sleeping bag lays. At first, it appears to be just that until you see a haggard face poking from the opening. That certainly isn't something you see every day. The overgrown caterpillar lifts up from the ground, unzipping and a man who looks as though he's seen better days emerges. You're sure there are worse-looking butterflies out there. Alongside his rough appearance, dark clothing hangs from his hunched, lanky body with a thin, white scarf wrapped around his shoulders like messy buttercream atop a cupcake. He saunters to the front of the classroom, now holding all of your watchful eyes. You're glad that the fire between yourself and 'hedgehog hair' has dispursed - though he still looks ready for battle - but you are just too focused on trying to figure out who this strange man is. He can't possibly be a teacher. The teachers here are all pro heroes and he doesn't look like one you've ever seen before.

"It took eight seconds for you to quiet down," he continues. "Time is a precious resource. You lot aren't very rational, are you?" The question is rhetorical, of course, and he continues, "I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Pleased to meet you."

You are now truly realising that you need to stop making assumptions in this new school. Clearly, everything isn't what it seems. You're only glad that everyone else is as surprised as you are, the whole class practically screaming with shock upon this revelation. One query in particular stokes at your brain: If this man is your teacher then what is his pro-hero name? A puzzle that will have to remain unsolved for now as he quickly beckons you all to get changed into your gym uniform and re-assemble out onto the school grounds. A dubious request but you suppose you have no choice.

Once changed, everyone is quick to meet outside, each student being perceivably confused. There's something rather comforting about them all being in the same boat as you, otherwise, you'd assume yourself an idiot. The situation doesn't become any clearer when your teacher admits to this circumstance being a test of your quirks.

"What about the entrance ceremony?!" one girl raises hastily, ultimately expressing everyone's thoughts on the matter. "The guidance sessions?!"

"No time to waste on stuff like that if you want to become heroes," he retorts blandly. "U.A. is known for its 'freestyle' educational system. That applies to us teachers, as well."

He lists off a series of rudimentary fitness tests you all would have engaged in during your time in school. It takes a second but you have a hunch that you know where this is going.

"You did all of these in middle school, yes?" Once again, he doesn't wait for an answer. "Your standard no-quirks-allowed gym tests. The country still insists on prohibiting quirks when calculating the average of those records. It's not rational. The Department of Education is just procrastinating."

If it isn't obvious enough what's happening by now, you feel sorry for any of the students who are still in the dark. Tempted by curiosity, you take a quick glance and want to take pity on some of the bewildered faces. Everything will be revealed in good time, you are sure.

Your teacher turns towards that blonde-haired punk from earlier and asks, "Bakugo, how far could you throw in middle school?"

"Sixty-seven meters."

"Great. Now try it with your quirk." Aizawa throws a ball over to the student. "Do whatever you need to do. Just don't leave the circle."

Bakugo - a name that you shan't soon forget given what's about to happen. Why bother even feigning shock at this point? This is the best hero school in Japan, after all, and that only means that it's going to house the best students.

"Give it all you've got."

Bakugo grins darkly with the baseball in hand and takes a stand within the appointed circle. "Awesome."

I had the intention of getting this out a lot sooner but procrastination and writer's block are quite the combo. Not to mention, I had written so much that this ended up being split into two chapters. One might think that means you won't have to wait as long for Chapter three but this is me we're talking about :') @sky-angel101

Also, also, if anyone wants to be part of this tag list, lemme know!

[finniestoncrane]

Can I request reader being attacked/mugged by back alley robbers (or something like that, I'll leave that up to you) and Ozzy rescuing/comforting her? I need a protective man 😖 (Also, I check your blog to see what you've written everyday, I love it so much, thanks for being you)

In The Nick Of Time

Farrell!Penguin x GN!Reader, word count: 500 i am literally going to lose my mind YOU ARE SO SWEET and this made my DAY 🥺💜 can't even express how warm my heart is so honestly for you, dedicated and protective daddy oz being sweet and soft and tough ;-; request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: threats, violence, a knife but no harm, a gun but it's the bad guys who get shot, and then fluff like you wouldn't fuckin believe

In retrospect, taking a shortcut down an alley in Gotham should have struck you as a terrible idea. But you were foolish, foolhardy, convinced you’d lived here long enough that you smelled like Gotham, the kind of person you couldn’t mess with. An unfortunate miscalculation, as you had heard the same two sets of footsteps following you since before you decided to cut through the back alley. And they got faster until they had caught up with you, one of them holding you against the wall while the other raked through your pockets.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

The one holding you pulled out a knife, the blade glinting in the dim light.

“Tell us now if there’s anything better you got.”

With the tip of the blade so close to your skin, you could feel hot tears stain your cold, red cheeks. One of them, you were unsure which one, was laughing.

“Oh wait! Back pockets, duh.”

You were pushed to the ground, hands and knees on the cold, wet, gravel.

“Hey, fellas, you conducting any legitimate business out here?”

“Who’s asking?”

One shot rang out in the air and the hands pulling at your pockets let go. As they stepped back slowly, another two rang out, squelching sounds close to your ears as you realised they had both been shot, superficially enough that they were able to start stumbling down the alley and away from the danger that had presented itself at the perfect moment. But you stayed cowering on the ground, rain soaking you through, afraid that there would be another shot for you next. As the footsteps approach you, one hard and one soft, slightly shuffling, you shiver in fear and from the freezing cold of the harsh Gotham air.

But you’re slightly calmed by the presence of a jacket around your shoulders, and as you gaze up you meet the face of your saviour. Familiar, slowly recognising him from articles in the newspapers.

“Oswald Cobblepot, you need a hand?” He reached his out, large and welcoming, rings catching the light. You reached up and took it, as he gently helped you onto your feet, hands on your shoulders, checking you over.

“You’re soaked, but you look ok. They didn’t hurt you, nah?”

“I don’t…no…”

“Hey, it’s ok, don’t worry about it, kid. Look, you’re soaked, and would you believe I left my umbrella inside?” He laughed, but you didn’t join him. You were still in shock, confused, freezing cold despite the warmth of the jacket around your shoulders.

“You wanna come inside for a drink? Good lookin’ thing like you can’t be out here alone.”

Hesitating, you looked around you nervously, but desperate to say yes to the offer. Anything to get out of the cold.

“I promise, no funny business. I just wanna make sure you’re ok, alright, sweetheart?”

Taken in by his smile, the effortless charm, you linked your arm around the one he held out for you and followed him into the back entrance of his club.

[mugiwara-no-toshokan]

Some Direction

CisFem Reader x Roronoa Zoro

CW: Language, stalking, violence, sexual themes and situations, ptsd -- surprisingly fluffy despite it all. 18+ only

Chapter 9: Dream Route

Note: this chapter is literally a nightmare. It gets intense.

The long blades gleamed terribly in the moonlight. Kuro struck in the deepest part of the night, but almost always he was accompanied by moonlight. The glint and glimmer of his glasses and unimaginably long clawed gloves raised the heart rates of his victims before the hunt had even properly begun.

You're being held, the person whose arms are around you is desperate to protect you as they run through the darkness. You can see the glint and glimmer of the bladed demon that slinks through the night after you, the promise of death in the cold eyes hidden beneath the frames on his face.

The scent of rust and blood filled you nose. The gurgled screams of falling bodies assault your ears. The blood-caked blades drip life blood onto the ground in front of you, and you cannot look away. The sharp promise of pain begins to descend upon you, but your world gives way to darkness.

You walk a cold and empty path. It's firm and stony, wavering as it unfolds in front of you. People and warmth come and go with fleeting inconsistency. The only certainty is the growing sound of the one terrible word, over and over and over.

Cursed. Kursed. Cursed by Kuro.

Not cursed. Marked.

The scars itch, but you can never reach them for relief. They mar your skin and have never faded. Some days you were sure they were only growing larger as you grew, spreading out faster than you could evade them, and one day they would surely consume you.

Cursed.

No one wanted a cursed child. Not with the news. With the dozens of people who had survived Kuro's onslaught, only to have new friends and new family members die. No one was safe from the statistical anomaly. From diseases to accidents the deaths ran the gamut, but nothing that could be tied to someone else. Nothing that would prove a second Kuro.

Nothing to find the first one with.

Perhaps living in a world of darkness, a cold stony path with no one else on it, was the way to go. Marching forward, surviving on the outskirts of a social world. Never getting too close. Never having too much hope. Never hoping for anything more than a step into the next day.

Cursed.

No one would be matched with a cursed child. The Government wouldn't risk it. No one even wanted to adopt you, never mind marry you. What if your curse was passed onto your children? What right did you even have?

But finally, a light. Kind. Warm. Almost blinding, but not painful. A new Mother. A New Father. A life with people walking along beside you. Grass on the sides of the path as it straightens out before you. A steady pace forward, therapy, school, consistency, protection, and love.

The light that shines on you is warm and yellow, not the cold silver light of the moon that glints with promises of rust and blood. The scars shrink, you're out growing them, no fear of being consumed.

Cursed.

The officer apologizes. The smell of rubber, the scent of folded metal, the sickening stench of copper and blood. There was no saving your new parents. There had been no saving your old parents. The darkness reaches out again, and glints of silver rake across the warmth in the sky, pulling it into the cold, hard path.

The scars on your back burn. They hunger. They're quieter in the dark, so in the dark you sit. No hobbies, no interests. You dive into books – books that cannot bleed. That cannot be slashed and twisted in the horrible confines of metal.

Maybe the meaning of your existence can be found in a book. One book. Any book. If you learn how to read all the languages that books are written in, then you'll surely find it. Just one. A single scrap of paper, a word, a moment, something to hold on to. To claw into one more day.

To find one more sunrise.

To find some direction in this life that felt terrible and useless.

The soft sound tickled your ear, but your mind couldn't parse what it was.

Bells.

Chimes.

Gold.

The gold drops clinked together softly. A soft sound. A comforting sound. Like beads of sunlight. Clink, clink, clink. Three small suns.

You reach out to this new sunrise and then pull your hand back. It was best to enjoy the warmth from a distance. To appreciate the light from a place of darkness where it wouldn't be consumed. You didn't need to walk in the light, you only needed to know it was there.

"I thought you were at the library by the dojo. What're you doing here?" The sunlight speaks. Clink, clink, clink. It scowls at you, and you can't help but smile. Sunlight isn't supposed to scowl, but maybe this sunlight doesn't know that.

This was the library by the dojo, but why were you here? The bookshelves loom over you, and there's darkness in the stacks. The darkness has never crept into your library. It sat at the edges of your library and walked you home, but it never came into your library. Not once in all the years you'd known it. The books were safe. The books couldn't be devoured by the darkness. Just because it was harder to read didn't mean they ceased existing, so the darkness left them be.

But now there was sunlight, and the darkness walked in behind it, a terrible smile in its endless depths. A silver smile. Eleven silver smiles, glinting off a moon that isn't there. Closing in on a sun that's warm and bright and strong.

A sun that's yours.

"I won't do anything you don't want." The sun promises you, all three of his sunbeams glinting and chiming in the warm air.

Then don't go. Don't die. Don't leave me in the darkness to be swallowed by moonlight. You try to say the words, to scream them, to demand them, but no sound comes out.

"It's okay." The sun assures you, wrapping warmth around you, and petting your hair.

But there's no time to appreciate the warmth that's wrapped around you. Something goes by your face, and there's a soft jingle of bells. Clink, clink, clink. If you could say something, show someone. If someone could look for the source for you, then maybe you'd know what it was that had just missed you.

Drip, drip, drip.

The blood is hot and thick in your hands. It's loud and the coppery taste soaks into you. The sun holds onto your shoulder, blood falls from his eyes, from his mouth, the wound across his chest is rent open and everything is a terrible, dark, final red.

"I won't lose to a curse," The sun promises you, as its light goes out and Roronoa Zoro grows cold at your feet.

The wail that claws up from your throat is consumed by the darkness, and no sound comes out at all.

[midmorning-bomb]

Null

Your neighbour grew horns and a tail, he’s taking it pretty well. He waves, but when you smile and wave back, he reaches up, distracted. You hurry away, not too fast, hoping he doesn’t associate the slight lightening and reduction in size of the curling ram’s horns with your attention.

You read a story once, about two witches trying to protect a baby with the innate ability to nullify magic. It wasn’t a particularly happy story, a child growing up in a cradle of wonder, unable to see anything but the mundane, and always hunted. Something about it stuck with you, nonetheless, and it’s for the best because you’d probably have been caught more off guard had you not read it.

Everyone else in the family is an early bird. You typically wake up hearing your mom bustling around the in-law suite you built in the basement. This morning, her scream gets you scrambling out of bed, and your capability to compartmentalize gets you untangling the vines she’s grown over her bathroom door without pausing to freakout. Scrolling through social media while you make tea and she joyfully grows yellow rose blooms out of the palm of one hand, you see the world has changed overnight.

(Literally, the media is calling it “The Change,” and it sounds more like a B horror movie than a terrifying global phenomenon and, fuck. You’re just so, so tired of interesting times. B horror movie is more on point than you’d like.)

Most of the changes or powers, or whatever, are benign. Physical alterations, horns, tails, gills, wings for a rare few. Connections to nature, blooming flora, generating small, warm flames, swirls of ice. Your niece giggles while your brother creates snowballs out of nothing, tossing them up for their labradoodle to snatch from the air.

You hold your nephew’s hand, and hear your sister-in-law gasp, as the flames that have been licking up his arms in rare bursts turn to smoke, then nothing. When your brother comes closer to look, the frost in the air fades away, leaving the day warm and spring again.

You’re serious when you tell them this needs to be a secret.

Everyone in the world got a super power, and you’re a fucking black hole.

Most of the changes are benign, but some aren’t. A YouTuber gains the ability to generate water, and tries to recreate Houdini’s Water Torture Cell. They did ­not­ gain the ability to breathe in water, though, and drown on camera. A kindergartner causes a series of sinkholes timed with their tantrums. The stock market and several electric power systems temporarily crash when a billionaire develops a kind of technopathy before they disappear into their phone.

(You hear a shout of surprise one day in the backyard, and find your other neighbour, the one you actually like, holding the end of her rake with shaking hands. The metal is now a shimmering gold. She drops it, shocked, and gleaming yellow lays accusingly in her pile of soaked, rotten leaves. You step closer to help and she steadies herself on the washing line pole, which pulses gold and back to stainless steel as you reach out and squeeze her shoulder.

She looks for a long moment at the glittering prongs and then back up, “Will you help me bury this?”

Much later, when the campaign for Change Transparency kicks off, you’ll meet her worried eyes and try to smile.)

For a while, your family keeps your secret.

But your brother has always wanted to be a hero, always wants to be the good guy, pat on the back, great job, couldn’t have done it without you, bud. And your sister-in-law wants so badly to be the one that helps, the go-to, ready with that staged-casual insta slice of life.

And won’t you think of all the good you can do? You could help so many people! What’s the worst that could happen?

You feel the fragility of your safety more than ever. In a world suddenly full of changes, what power in being able to negate them. You picture yourself buried in some government lab, concrete cell and nothing but tests and buzzing lights. Liver and lungs and blood and heart sold to the highest bidder. You think of the magic-nullifying baby in the story and fuck, at least they had a couple well-meaning witches. You’re not sure you can trust your own family.

Your null lingers. Your nephew’s burns are long-healed, his frightful gift apparently buried. He sits in your lap one night while your niece creates a moving constellation of coloured lights, dancing close to you and letting them fade before darting away and laughing as they get brighter.

(Is it being an older sister? There’s a part of you that sees disaster coming and your whole life everyone has treated you like Cassandra until you just sigh and learn to hold onto these little moments that matter.)

Your sister-in-law is talking too fast and your brother won’t quite look you in the eyes, and you just know.

“What did you do?”

Your mom’s eyes narrow as your brother’s shoulders hunch because she knows you both and all sorts of pretty words tumble out of your sister-in-law’s mouth about how she just couldn’t hide it in good conscience and they’ll keep your secret, too, of course, and—

And maybe you can nullify changes, but you’re pretty sure you can’t nullify bullets, when a small contingent of what looks to be both police and military shows up at your door three weeks later.

You’re trying to keep your shit together and comfort your frantic mother and get outside while keeping the cat in before these assholes decide to get violent. Your mind is racing and the door is finally shut and your mother is screaming at this point. Your neighbour runs over because you helped her bury that stupid fucking rake and takes hold of your mom, you nod gratefully and move forward with your head held high.

Then a ranking officer steps up, taking in the stubborn tilt of your chin, and says:

“We should take the whole family.”

And that’s when you find out you aren’t a black hole. You don’t nullify, you absorb.

You amplify.

And now your nephew’s little flame is an inferno.

[alyjojo]

April 🤯 2024 Monthly - Leo

Preshuffle: I got a really positive energy from yours as soon as I switched gears from Cancer’s reading. You have an opportunity to make something everything you’ve wanted it to be and the only thing in your way - is you. Holding onto outdated judgements, grudges, maybe needing to save money, for most it’s like you could if you wanted to, but you’d have to let some other thing go and you don’t want to.

Meditation: You were raking leaves for people around the neighborhood, fall could be significant for you in this situation. Rather than using any new/updated equipment or help, you were doing it the old fashioned way, rake and bags, alone. It was taking *forever*, and you refused to be swayed. Still, everyone on the block was waiting to be next, you had takers, it could just be done easier / quicker / in a better way.

Main energy: Wheel of Fortune

Some of you may have a spontaneous moment of serendipity, there’s an instant attraction or even love at first sight, it feels that way anyway. You could be passionately interested in someone around you, probably someone new, that you’re working with in some way. Could be work but could be anything, the guy fixing your roof or a client at work, the cute girl that makes your coffee, anyone. This person could have a whole family, or you do, it’s like a casual flirting thing that makes you feel good and maybe makes you realize what’s missing in your own world. Take it as a sign without seeing it as like…omg I met my soulmate at McDonalds, I’m too late, no. It’s not that. Origin and Death show something can stop as fast as it starts, especially something new. Fleeting. If you’re coupled up, you could be the one initiating romance back into this connection, with someone you love deeply but also like…let’s play dress up, you’re the pilot 😆 FUN. Those that are single may have their careers on hold while waiting for “the right person”, but this could just be a phase of life where it’s time to get to work with Order as one of the oracles. Moon Virgo tends to avoid love unless they’ve got everything else together, or not at all buuut the right person maybe, that could be a message for those of you that maybe don’t - don’t take it if it don’t fit. If there’s no particular person then it’s just not time, the Wheel is moving and you can have faith for a later time.

What’s going on in April:

Page of Cups:

Cute energy, sweet messages, crushing butterfly in the stomach kind of feelings, Ace of Wands shows someone new, or a new cycle in your current relationship. They do things to you, make you feel all of the right things, especially in regards to passion. 10 Pentacles at the bottom, could be work related again, could be a long established relationship that you are breathing new life into, or again you or they have no idea the other person is deeply involved elsewhere. Meaning the crush may be secret, unsaid, held back. I don’t get that as the main story though, for most it’s probably work or something where you have to work with this person as a team. You both volunteer garden on the weekends idk, but you work well together in whatever you do, and there’s definitely some flirting. Harmless, a Page is just cute, could be confused with “being nice”, no one is trying to step on any toes. But do you feel it, yeah 💯 If you’re already with this person, then you’re amping up the sweetness because you “crave” this person - I heard crave. You want them to feel good, they make you feel good, apply that in all ways, both sides. Or that’s what you want anyway. If not love, you could feel inspired to work on some sort of side hustle, creative stuff, art, writing, drama literally is here - any form of acting, etc. All this Aries energy has you motivated to live.

The Hanged Man:

For those of you fresh out of something, this is the row that tells you to chill, heal from what you’ve just gotten out of, because impulsive mistakes are likely. Some of you may be following your crotch vs. your heart, getting googly eyed over a pretty face with not much to really offer you - that you’d actually want. Some of you just want to feel desirable. I’m sure you are. You’re holding onto a lot from the past that needs to be sorted and dealt with, 8 Swords at the bottom shows you could be keeping yourself stuck or blind to issues that may only repeat if they’re not learned - Wheel of Fortune. You could have a history of rushing from one to the next and then…karma. If it’s the same thing every time it’s a pattern.

2 Cups:

This is what you want, genuine, reciprocated love. But you chase people with shallow intentions, maybe for shallow reasons, they’re hot & fun but not dependable, or long lasting. 2 Pentacles rev can show players, maybe you date players and then think you can change them, or you keep attracting people that try to change you and that’s not happening - but you keep ending up in the same boat. If you’re wanting someone to leave someone else, karma usually plays out as they’ll end up doing the same thing to you, so that’s no good either. If you’re the one in a connection, you could feel trapped to it, forcing a connection that doesn’t feel real or maybe it didn’t until now, because you’re seeing something that’s missing. Some of you may have more like…duty relationships than romantic ones. Or that’s been the phase it’s in. But you are resistant to change, because you’re a fixed sign, or you were, if you saw the light don’t just blame the other person, you were in that too. Single ones feel like they’re falling in love, or actually are, but they’re forcing friendship or a smile because…reasons. Holding back, either out of fear or because of practical reasons, someone is taken and that’s that. But you feel things.

3 Pentacles:

You’re cooperating with this person whoever they are, Queen of Cups. The Page earlier can show you have children with this person, or that you’ve known them for a really long time, 3 Pentacles can be an old schoolmate or someone you’re reconnecting with, 6 Cups has popped up a couple of times. Maybe you both have children involved in your lives somehow, or they make you feel like a kid again. If this is you, you’re in love with this person, or you feel like you are anyway. 8 Swords at the bottom, you don’t tell them. If they’re not single, that’s the inner conflict, or you’re not. You could be needing to focus more on your own self love and are sabotaging yourself by thinking someone else will “fix” an emptiness you’re feeling. That’s deep. If this is your person, you both may be hard workers that raise kids and just never have time to spend together, you don’t express your deeper emotions - which are very loving. Time would be the issue there, but you love them and want them in all of the ways. If you’ve had some kind of an ending, you’re forcing kindness and platonic interactions but you still love this person. You or they could act in an orderly sort of manner, just business, which makes it awkward to be emotional even though you’re feeling it.

2 Wands:

Moving forward, this is showing you plan to just make decisions for yourself, worrying about yourself. If they join you, great, and if they don’t, there’s not much you can do. This could be sabotage if you are in a close relationship and just not being vulnerable or emotional with your person. Some of you may have a moment where you fall madly in love, and then you’re over it and moving on with your life, in and right back out. Some could be planning to be single, or planning someone else to be single, then you’ll speak up and take action towards this person - but until then you’re not doing or saying anything - to avoid any drama it may cause, especially if this is a 3rd party thing, Drama is here and you want to avoid it. This all could be switched. Essentially you need to just worry about you, your job, your laundry, your friendships, and your life. If someone’s meant to be, you can’t miss them. I do see “meant to meet”, again I’m seeing a close brush with someone hot & flirty at some shop you’re at, and then they leave and you never see them again. But you miss that feeling, and now know what to search for (along with the meaningful stuff yeah?), or bring into your already established connection, it’s a (hopefully positive) lesson.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy Pisces, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Cancer & Virgo

Oracle: ✨

10 Burden 🫠

Many times we take on the stress of those we love and care for. We see it as the ultimate sacrifice. We take on others’ burden to save them the trouble or heartache. Ironically, the way energy and the universe work makes this a very counterproductive way of operating. When we take on the burdens of others, we deny them the ability to learn and grow from their own lessons. We also interfere with divine planning and timing. Never one to be thwarted - any lessons circumvented will absolutely reappear - sometimes with much more force than what was originally intended.

Ask yourself if you or another is taking on troubles and lessons not belonging to them out of a need to be needed. This stems from the fear that you (or they) are fundamentally not enough. This is not true, you are created perfect. Your fears and doubts keep you separated from this truth. This is the separation one can feel from Spirit. Once you accept and believe you are perfect and worthy, the tendency to make yourself invaluable to others through your help and assistance will go away. Your relationships can then be based on truth and not manipulation.

Origin 🌱

Initiation - Creativity - Vitality

Death 💀

Endless - Harm - Inevitable

Order 🧮 Moon Virgo

Drama 🎭 Mercury Leo

We enter into April as:

Wolf of White Light 🌙

“There is a guide inside of us.”

Wolf of White Light comes to remind you that you must use your instinct, for it is what protects you. You are more aware of this than you realize. Your instinct is finely tuned and accurate, so why doubt it? He reminds us that focusing on past injustices will not prepare us for the present. Wolf of White Light warns that time spent in the past also leaves you defenseless in the future. Letting go of the old is signified, for if you do not, you may miss the opportunities that Spirit has planned for you. Wolf is the spirit guide that comes to lead you up the mountain you are about to climb. He only appears to those seeking a guide. Allow him to guide you, and follow your instincts. Remember that when the Wolf appears, it’s time to move on. He is a reminder that your journey is guided. With your eyes focused forward, the Wolf is waiting in the distance for you. Now is the time.

What is to be learned in April:

Pink From Pinkton 💗

“I am more than I think I am.”

Pink shows us the process of self-awareness. Are you trying to recapture a past moment that no longer fits? You may have outgrown something, and while it can be a challenge to admit it, being fully who you are is much more glorious than trying to fit yourself into the past. If you are presently upset or struggling with a difficult situation, it may be because you are trying to make something work when it simply can’t. You may be seeking to keep something far less than what you deserve. With self-awareness and discovery comes a new obligation, using your new knowledge. New ideas, projects & opportunities can only come if you stop blocking them.

Pink may be a lucky color 🩷