#often barking up the wrong tree for it

[abuckygirlarchive]

results of the poll are in and we have a winner ! as such, have a compilation of highlights from the winning comic run ' bucky barnes: the winter soldier (2014 - 2015) ' by marco rudy and ales kot.

[alongtidesoflight]

i haven't talked trans stuff with irl people in a while so when i tell you today was exhausting

[dadbodbuck]

fine, you've forced my hand!

It’s by some miracle that Buck doesn’t show his hand the instant he turns on the lights to see him sitting in the corner chair of his hotel room.

“They’ve got you in some pretty shitty digs, Evan,” he says, and Buck fights tooth and screaming nail to hold onto his composure. “Nash so low on funds he had to put you up in a crusty motel?”

“Agent 217,” Buck says, hand itching for his comm. He knows better, knows that 217 has his service weapon tucked neatly away in a holster at his side, knows he’d be dead before he could click on to make the call. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Please, call me Tommy,” 217 says with an innocent, dashing grin, even inch the handsome James Bond everyone assumes Buck must be. “You have something I want.”

“Like we’ll ever tell you anything,” Buck scoffs, “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

217—Tommy, and why would he give Buck a name to call him?—stands, and stalks over. “Who says I’m after information?”

Buck swallows, tensing himself for a fight. “So, what, this is a hit? Are you here to gloat?”

Tommy continues walking, appraising Buck where he stands in his unassuming civvies. Jean jacket, cotton tee, khakis, tennis shoes. Compared to Tommy’s government-issued slacks, crisp button-down, and polished shoes, Buck feels a little underdressed. He glances down as Tommy rounds his back and leans forward to whisper. “You were at the boardwalk tonight. I know what Nash is after. Going up against the entire establishment, Evan? That’s a suicide mission.”

And—okay. Contrary to popular belief, being a spy (“Intelligence Agent,” Bobby always insists) doesn’t get him laid all the time. He’s actually been going through a bit of a dry spell, with the recent push towards leaking the project they’d been a part of before they went rogue. They just need a little more information, a little more time. Point being, it’s been a fucking goddamn minute, and 217 is smoking. Curly hair, slate gray eyes that sparkle with dry wit, pearly white smile that is condescending, maybe, but in a way that gets Buck’s dick standing at attention. Broad shoulders, big arms, solid muscle. He could bend Buck completely in half, if he so desired. And God, Buck desires.

“Sorry,” Buck blinks, while Tommy smiles his little Cheshire Cat grin, “What was the question?”

“Oh, I’m not here for questions,” Tommy murmurs, hands slipping over Buck’s hips. “I’ve seen the way you watch me, Evan. You’re not exactly subtle. It’s a wonder Nash still employs you.”

“I’m not hooking up with a fucking Fed,” Buck says, even as he gasps with the way Tommy leans down to mouth at his neck.

“Kinda sounds like you are,” Tommy grins, obnoxiously smug, “Besides, weren’t you a fucking Fed three years ago?”

“People change,” Buck says mindlessly, “Fuck, touch me.”

“As you wish,” Tommy replies, sounding affected for the first time that night. Buck catches a glimpse of them in the standing mirror in the entryway, sees the way Tommy’s eyes are blown dark over his shoulder. Watches his hand snake down his front, gently palm over the (frankly, humiliating) bulge in his pants.

Buck wishes he could say it felt like nothing. It would be so nice to be disappointed by Tommy’s touch, when he hates the guy with a burning passion. Unfortunately for Buck’s pride, it’s electric. Tommy’s hand is firm and warm on his dick, even through the layers of fabric.

“They told me about your reputation,” Tommy breathes, “Told me about Agent Buckley, back in the day, sleeping with marks more often than tailing them.”

Okay, so maybe sometimes being a spy got him laid. “It was very effective,” Buck says defensively, “Got a lot of good intel. Why, you want to see what all the fuss was about?”

“You know what they say about curiosity and cats,” Tommy muses, “And satisfaction bringing them back.”

Buck hums, and loses the last tenuous grip on his dignity. “I could blow you.”

“You mean I’d get a blowjob and spared the sound of your voice?” Tommy says, pressing a little harsher into Buck’s clothed dick, delicious friction pushing a moan out of Buck’s mouth. “Is there a downside?”

“Your dick will be extremely close to my teeth,” Buck returns, “And I don’t want you to come down my throat. I want you to fuck me.”

“All you had to do was ask,” Tommy simpers, before dropping his saccharine tone for a bossy: “Now get on your fucking knees.”

And, really, who told him that Buck’s favorite part of his 1.0 phase was when his marks would boss him around? Against his will, his knees give out, and he drops down, watching himself kneel in front of Tommy before reluctantly breaking eye contact with the mirror, shuffling around to a face full of tented polyester.

“You’re so fucking obnoxious,” Buck says, even as he leans forward to run his tongue along the outline of Tommy’s cock. It’s mouth-watering.

“I thought the point of sucking cock was to have your mouth occupied,” Tommy scoffs, hand fisting Buck’s hair a little meanly. Buck wishes he could stop another moan from spilling out of his mouth, but the pain hits him just right.

With fingers that are still thankfully on board with what he’s doing, Buck deftly undoes Tommy’s belt buckle, unzips his pants, and marvels at the thick, long cock that he pulls from his boxers. Oh, he’s going to have so much fun with this. He licks up the underside of Tommy’s dick, slow and wet, and revels in the way his hand tightens in his hair.

It’s like riding a bike, or something, probably. Buck finds himself sucking on the head of Tommy’s cock like he was born for it, bobbing his head down the length of him, letting the filthy, wet, clicking noise of his throat echo around the hotel room. It must be like riding a bike, because the other option is that Buck really did need Tommy this bad. And it can’t be that. Bobby would skin him alive.

“Jesus,” Tommy swears, hips hitching into Buck’s mouth. It’s almost like he’s trying to hold back for Buck’s sake, which is… cute. Certainly nicer treatment than he’s used to, but he can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not.

Either way, he can’t handle tenderness. Not now, and maybe not ever. He doesn’t get to have attachments. That much is clear. He sees the way Eddie and Hen and Chim worry over their loved ones. This way is better. He’s already got Christopher and Maddie and Jee-yun to worry about.

Buck pulls off Tommy’s cock with a loud pop. “You can fuck my throat. It’s okay. I won’t break.”

“I hate to think of what your team would do to me if I broke their favorite toy,” Tommy chuckles, “Especially Diaz. I hear he’s creative.”

“Do me a favor and don’t mention him with your dick next to my face,” Buck rolls his eyes, desperately ignoring the way his dick twitches at the mention of Eddie’s name, “I’ll be fine. Take me for a ride. I know you want to.”

“Oh, you’re gagging for it,” Tommy surmises, guiding his cock back to Buck’s mouth. Buck, unable to deny it, willingly goes down on Tommy, letting him set the pace as he fucks leisurely into Buck’s mouth.

Tommy pushes him down further, and Buck relaxes into it, until he can feel the warmth of Tommy’s hip where his nose pushes into soft flesh. “Holy shit,” Tommy says, “I’m starting to get why this was so effective, I think.”

Buck stays until black spots start dancing at the corners of his eyes, pulling back and heaving breath, and then returning to his spot with Tommy’s cock all the way down his throat. It’s alarmingly comfortable. For the first time since his team went AWOL, he wishes he wasn’t in too deep to quit. He could spend an entire lifetime sitting at Tommy’s feet with his dick choking him stupid.

He gets maybe three more off-breath-down reps in before Tommy is pulling him off by the hair. “Okay, if you still want me to fuck you, we have to take this elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I want,” Buck croaks, voice alarmingly fucked out. Tommy helps him up—strangely chivalrous for a man who has tried on multiple occasions to shoot him with a gun—and they tumble into bed together. If it weren’t for the fact of who both of them were, it might even be romantic.

Tommy has his mouth on Buck before he can get another word in edgewise. Buck starts scrambling to get the rest of their clothes off, and shirts, pants, underwear, and shoes end up scattered around the room.

“Lube? Condoms?” Tommy asks as Buck bites at the junction of his neck and jaw.

“Side table,” Buck says, “You don’t have to use a condom. I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“Poor thing,” Tommy says, faux-pitying, as he rifles through the drawer of the side table, “You must be so pent up.”

Honestly, Buck’s just used to his marks not wanting to use condoms, and dealing with the potential fallout later. Still, he’s kind of disappointed when Tommy pulls them out of the drawer along with the lube packets.

“You’re adorable when you pout,” Tommy grins, pressing a sickly sweet kiss to Buck’s cheek, “I’m using a condom.”

“Fine,” Buck huffs, rolling his hips up into Tommy’s, “Just hurry.”

Tommy, thankfully, wastes no time in emptying a lube packet into his hand and swiping it up against Buck’s hole, slicking the way for his fingers. He’s clearly no slouch at this, either, thick fingers deftly opening him up beneath him, forearm muscles flexing so deliciously.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-fuck-fuck,” Buck says, squirming as Tommy slides his fingers in and out in intoxicating rhythm, “Fuck me, Tommy, Tommy—”

“Finally, you’re saying something worth listening to,” Tommy smiles against Buck’s neck, “Never thought I’d get to hear the great Evan Buckley beg for my cock.”

“It’s—ah—it’s a specialty,” Buck pants, rolling his hips as he aches for more, for a harsh little sting, for something to distract him from the way this is starting to feel too much like intimacy and not enough like fucking.

“Maybe I’d like to hear some more,” Tommy says, pulling away to roll a condom on and slick himself up.

Buck, suddenly cold and empty, lets the words fall unabashed from his mouth. “Oh, please, Tommy, I’ll make it so good for you, it’ll feel so good, just need you in me, just need—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Tommy says, just on the wrong side of tender, “I know what you need. Hold still for me.”

And then there’s the thick press of Tommy’s cock against Buck’s hole. Tommy slips in with a stretch that has Buck mewling something embarrassing in the back of his throat, and leans forward as he slides deeper, inch-by-burning-inch, encouraged by the way Buck grips at his biceps.

“Breathe,” Tommy says as he bottoms out, at which point Buck realizes he’s been stuck with his head tipped back and mouth open. He sucks in a gasping breath, relaxing under Tommy’s bulk. Tommy is warm above him again, haloed by the dim hotel light, so close Buck can feel his breath on his cheek.

“Move,” Buck demands, squirming. Tommy seems only too happy to oblige, mouth finding Buck’s again as he starts to roll his hips into him. It’s a slow, languid fuck, but still enough to have Buck seeing stars.

“This how you got all those people to tell you what they were up to?” Tommy asks, a hand roaming down to pinch Buck’s nipple, coaxing a groan out of him. “You’d just lay here all pretty and let them take what they wanted?”

“Nnnnngh—usually they wanted me on top,” Buck says around a reedy moan, “But yeah, that’s the general idea.”

“You take it so well,” Tommy murmurs, snapping his hips in with just a little more force, “Makes me wonder how many times you’ve done this before. How many times you begged on your knees—how many times you’ve been a slut for terrible people.”

“You’re in perfectly fine company, I can assure you,” Buck says, trying to regain some of his composure, “Art thieves, mob bosses, hackers. You work with monsters every day, why can’t I sleep with them?”

“I’ll have you know that the monsters I work with are working for the greater good,” Tommy says, with a huffed laugh, “And if you keep talking about them I’m not going to let you finish.”

“Oh, you’re not going to let me?” Buck says, “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of taking what I want, too.”

“I’m sure you are, stud,” Tommy says, in that same condescending tone of voice that goes right to Buck’s dick. He fucks into him harder, right at the perfect angle, and Buck can’t help the pathetic moan that spills out of his mouth.

“You—were—talking—a little—too much,” Tommy grunts between thrusts, slamming into Buck again, and again, “Just lay back—and fucking take it.”

Like Buck could ever want to do anything else. He’s well aware of the fucked-out little uh, uh, uh noises that Tommy’s forcing out of him, but he’s far too gone to be embarrassed about it. This is the best fuck he’s had in years, he could care less what he sounds like or looks like right now.

Not that Tommy seems to mind. If anything, given the way he’s latched onto Buck’s neck like a goddamn vampire, he likes that Buck’s a writhing mess beneath him. Buck’s nerves are lit up, from the pain of Tommy’s less-than-gentle biting, from the way Tommy nails Buck’s prostate with every thrust, from the skin-on-skin he hasn’t had in so long.

His orgasm sneaks up on him. Usually, he’s a lot better about announcing it, giving his partners time to decide what they want, but Tommy is—Tommy is grunting and his back muscles are flexing under Buck’s fingers and his cock fills him so beautifully and Buck didn’t even think he could come without something on his dick, but—

Belatedly, as Buck rockets towards the clouds, he realizes that maybe there is something special about Agent 217. 

Buck comes down slowly, to the feeling of hands gently petting his sides, and a softening dick sliding out of his ass. It’s gross, leaves him feeling sticky and a little used, but he can’t bring himself to care that much about it at all. To his complete shock, he feels Tommy rummaging around for something, and then the soft cotton of his shirt wiping the cum off of his stomach, and the lube from his ass.

“It’s okay, Evan,” Tommy says, gentle, soft, “You can rest.”

Buck, despite every ounce of self-preservation that says he’s leaving himself completely vulnerable, does.

He wakes to an empty room. Nothing seems amiss, so despite the deep humiliation and regret, Buck packs his things (luckily, finding his hiding spots untouched) and heads back to the rendezvous point.

Athena is waiting for him at the café, in streetwear that looks unnaturally casual on her. “Got everything?”

“Check and check,” Buck says, handing her the dossier, “Got some lovely pictures. The sunset was especially gorgeous last night.”

“You sound like you could use a tea with lemon and honey,” Athena winces, “You coming down with something?”

“No,” Buck says, fighting against the urge to flush.

Athena passes him a knowing smile over her coffee. “Thanks for this, Buck. I’ll let Bobby know you came through, and he’ll want to meet with you later. I think we’re getting close.”

“Good,” Buck sighs, “I can’t wait for this whole mess to be over. I never thought I’d say this, but it would be nice to do some paperwork for once.”

[colleendoran]

I am not usually directly on Twitter, accessing it only via apps, and I generally avoid making public political statements unless they are directly related to the art business.

Apparently, my assistant has followed or liked comments there, probably intending to discuss them with me, or for her own interest.

Since I access Twitter via an app, I don't really have much of an idea what's going on at the moment, because I can't read the feed and it limits what comments I can see, but it appears some people are scouring the feeds of creators and trying to pick at them about who they follow or what they "liked".

In those rare moments when I'm on Twitter, I often hit "like" when I really ought to hit "bookmark", to come back to something to read it later, not because I approve of the post. I sometimes follow things to get the news and unfollow after. And as I mentioned, my assistant likes things out of her own interest, or to highlight to screen shot later.

There's been an increasing level of coercive political pressure about the statements and behaviors of the creative class, and this pressure is coming from many different directions. I have no intention of getting involved in 99% of this, and anyone coming to a cartoonist in hopes of deep political insight over matters the finest minds in world history can't seem to solve is really barking up the wrong tree.

I've asked my assistant to stop following any political accounts on my account and to studiously avoid hitting the like button. I'd just as soon not get threats and abuse from total strangers for - I'm not always sure what.

I fully intend to keep up with my interest in the space program, even though that sometimes results in nasty comments I could live without, too.

Whatever, I may simply just go ahead and shut down my twitter account anyway. I can watch the news, I can read the paper, I don't need to be engaging with total strangers over anything in which I have no expertise.

[billthedrake]

WINGMAN

I generally had a clean lifestyle, at least lately, but it was Mike Gelson's bachelor party, and we five dudes were partying it up in Nashville. I may have been doing my goody two-shoes Brendan Peters thing and getting club soda every few rounds, but my tolerance was down and I was getting good and truly wasted.

My best buddy James Carducci noticed, too. Like me, he was a big guy, a former tight end who carried a lot of muscle on his 6'5" frame, but unlike me he could hold his liquor.

"You gonna get laid tonight, Peters?" he growled in my ear as we entered the room we were sharing. "It's fun to see you let your hair down."

I gave him a scowl but knew he was just ribbing me. It's what buddies did. "Why can't we have the bachelor party in New York or something?"

Carducci knew what I meant. He plopped on one of the beds, his big frame taking up most of the double bed mattress. "Bro, you could have all the gay dudes around you and you'd still be too fuckin' picky."

I lay down on the other bed, looking over at my best friend. We'd both moved to the same city after graduation. Coming out had been a big messy process for me, and James had been the most supportive of my college friends. He was enthusiastically bisexual - not advertising it or anything, but we quickly realized we could switch from teammate-buddies to guy talk and back.

Still, we were opposites in a lot of ways. "Dude... it's easy for you. You just want to get your dick wet."

We'd had versions of this conversation before. He grinned. "Bro, maybe you should get your dick wet for a change. It'd keep you from being a cranky bitch." Yeah, Carducci could get away saying stuff to me no one else could. Then turning his meaty body on his side, he looked right at me. "I get it, Peters. But maybe while you wait for Mr. Right, you can have some fun. I mean, Kevin Murphy's not gonna suck your cock."

"What the fuck?!" I played dumb. Kevin had been the kicker on our D1 team and was Mike Gelson's best man. He was my type to a T... shorter than me and leaner, boy-next-door cute, tight body and a bubble ass.

James lay back again and put his arms around his back, arms knotted and pumped. If I was into big dudes like myself, there might be sexual tension between us. "Bro, it's all over your face. Remember, I know your fuckin' type."

"C'mon, JC," I pleaded, using my nickname for him.

He grinned. "Don't worry, Peters, I'm not gonna say anything to anyone. You know that. Crush out on Murphy all you want. You're just barking up the wrong tree."

"Yeah," I sighed. "It's majorly against the bro code." I was starting to get resentful of how being a horny gay dude and an ex-jock living by the bro code were not exactly compatible.

That got a deep laugh from JC. "So's fucking your buddy's dad."

I sat up, the alcohol and quick movement making my head dizzy. "What?!?!" Normally I'd write off the comment as Carducci being a jokester but the way his words came out made them seem real.

He now sat up and reached down to paw at his crotch to rearrange his junk. "This stays between us," he warned.

"Scouts honor, man," I replied.

My friend got a wild look on his face and a leer as he said, "I banged Gelson's dad."

"Mike Gelson," I clarified. "The fucking groom."

He seemed annoyed. "What other Gelsons do you know, dumbass? Yeah, Mike Gelson's father. It was a couple of years ago, when Mike invited a couple of us to his family's lake house." James was closer to Gelson than I was, which only made what he was describing seme more transgressive.

"Dude, isn't Mr. Gelson like 45?" I'd briefly met the man once but he didn't make too much an impression on me, I guess.

Carducci leered. "He was 50 then, and it was fucking glorious. A whole week, both of us enjoying sneaking around." I knew JC had a bit of a kink for married men. We didn't overshare, but I'd very occasionally hear about a hookup or, more often, I'd unload about a date that didn't go like I wanted.

I had to rib him now. "What, you going for the daddies now, JC?"

Without missing a beat, he looked at me with his brown eyes. "Abso-fucking-lutely, Peters. Exclusively even. You should try an older dude for a change."

I didn't think I was easily shocked but the turn of the conversation had indeed rattled me. I went silent before I said quietly, "Man, I couldn't date a guy my dad's age. What the fuck?"

He laughed. "Dude, who's talking about dating? You're a hot fucking dude, you should be having sex nonstop... " He paused. "Can I be honest, bro?"

I nodded, bracing myself for the barrage of criticism. But this was Carducci, I knew he was looking after me.

"Well," James started. "You always go for the unavailable ones like Murphy, or for the stuck up ones who think they're the shit for having an Insta following." For all of our odd-couple conversations, Carducci had never spelled it out for me quite like this. But he was totally right. "I dunno, maybe you should go outside your type just to see. There are so many daddies out there who'd be so fucking appreciative to make it with a guy like you.... You could use the ego boost, bro."

I thought it over. "Is that what older guys are to you?" I asked. "An ego boost?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I have a pretty massive ego already, bro, I don't need help with that. I just love sex with an older guy." I watched as he pulled a spare pillow down to cover his crotch. I knew why: Carducci was boning up talking about sex, and while we shared a lot there still was the bro code between us. "Some of em have a wild side, like a drunk sorority chick."

I shook my head. "Jesus, JC."

I knew the alcohol was getting us both to open up to this conversation. "It's not like that, Peters. I mean, you know you're with a dude, a real masculine dude at that. But there's that wild, naughty streak beneath the surface. I fucking love it."

He reached over and picked up his phone.

"What? Are you gonna show me a picture of one of your conquests?" I asked.

He looked up and winked. "Perv. No, bro, I'm lining up a blowjob. There's gotta be a horny daddy staying in this hotel."

I blushed. "You serious?"

"Sure, I'm serious," he said, now not taking his eyes off the app as he scrolled through. "Jesus you can be such a fucking prude."

I lay back, feeling insulted but mostly angry that he was right. I'd set up a Grindr profile and used it some but then swore it off over the last year. "Well, you're not bringing him back here," I said.

JC now looked up. "Like I said. Cranky bitch." There was teasing sure, but I think I'd actually pissed off my buddy. I almost apologized but I was stubborn.

Anyway, he was now getting off the bed and putting his shoes back on.

"Already?" I asked with astonishment. JC hadn't been on that app much longer than five minutes.

He laughed. "What can I say, bro?" He smiled. "Daddy wants this..." he used his hand to gesture to his tall muscular body. "I'm in Nashville, I'm gonna have a little fucking fun." He had his phone and key card and seemed good to go. "You should too, Peters. For real."

I didn't say anything but I gave a look that was my attempt at an "I'll think about it."

And like that, I watched my best friend leave our room.

***

The lamplight was still on when I woke up. I'd conked out in my drunkenness. I was massively hungover but I always wake up pretty quickly. Light was coming in and the clock said a little after 8.

Carducci's bed was still made and still empty. The fucker.

I got up and pissed and popped a couple of aspirin, hoping they'd help. My head pounded. And we still had another night of this fucking bachelor party weekend. I wondered if these dudes would want to come to mine when the time came. Hell, I wondered if I'd have one.

I brushed my teeth to get the stale beer taste out of my mouth. My hair was mussed up and I did my best to comb it down.

Fifteen minutes later, after a trip to the lobby to get some coffee, I was feeling more alive. Hungover still, but better. I didn't feel like eating anything, but the aspirin was helping.

I picked up my phone. I'd uninstalled Grindr but it was easy enough to re-install it. It took me a second to remember my login, but I used one of my common passwords. One of these days, I'd need to choose something more secure for my shit.

There were some hot guys in Nashville, but I'd gotten spoiled by the city I lived in now. There was a certain type I was seeing here - either bigger, beefier guys, or else younger thinner twinks. My type was always in between that. I wanted more Dierks Bentley and was seeing a lot more Garth Brooks types, even among the 20-somethings.

I'd been replaying my conversation with JC in my head. He could bust my balls, and maybe in a way I didn't like. But I told myself, I'd give this a try. I changed my profile language to make it less picky and judgmental and adjusted my looking-for age range.

It was early and I didn't see any hits in this hotel, but there was a good looking older guy in the hotel on the next block. Kind of average looking, balding hair, 49yo, but his pics showed off a very fit body, lightly hairy, probably trimmed. Looking for now. If I had to make it with an older dude, this was probably as good a match as any. I'd focus on his body if need be.

"Hey," I typed in a chat. "You're up early."

"Hi man." Then. "This is early?"

"In Nashville it is," I replied back.

"True, ha."

I was never great with the quick hookup thing, but one thing I'd mastered was the art of messaging. Some guys were too direct, not flirty enough, but some guys were too passive and conversational. My style didn't work with everyone, but it was working now, I knew.

"What brings you here?" I asked.

"Business. I thought I'd tack on an extra day for fun. And you?"

"Bachelor party."

"Of course, ha." Then, he added. "You're quite the hunk."

"Thanks man," I typed. "You're hot, too." I wasn't sure how much I thought that. It's not that he wasn't hot, because he was in a way. But in my fucked up way, I knew he wasn't Brendan Peters-worthy hot. Not in my league. But I tried to embrace the Carducci way. "You say you bottom, right?" His profile had read vers-bottom.

"Yep. You wanting to fuck?"

After my conversation with JC, I'd initially been thinking of a blowjob. Baby steps. Something to take the edge off. But now I realized it had been WAY too long since I'd fucked a guy. "God yeah. You able to host?"

"If you can give me fifteen minutes."

I pawed my crotch now. I was getting boned good. "Make it twenty?" I wanted to shower up.

"Sounds good, man."

***

The profile had sold the guy short. He didn't look hotter than his pictures but as he ushered me in, he had a deep sexy voice. Almost gravely, with a New York accent. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and I could see how dense his muscle was on a frame that was about 6 inches shorter than mine.

"Looks like I hit the jackpot, huh?" he smiled. Then as his eyes swept up to my face, he added, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna gush. You know you're smoking hot."

OK, maybe JC was right, I could get used to the ego pump. With a grin I stepped up to the guy and wrapped my arms around his naked torso, drawing him in.

"I wasn't sure..." he started to say in his deep voice befor I cut him off with a kiss.

He was a good kisser. This was a hookup, just a hookup, and our making out wasn't romantic, but I really enjoyed this part of sex, and this man knew how to respond to my groove. His hands felt up my chest as he did his best to match my tongue work.

Maybe it had been so long since I'd had sex, but the feel of his bare skin and hard back muscle under my fingers had me rock hard. This guy wasn't my type, but he was masculine and real and he wanted me. I pulled off his towel and broke the kiss so I could reach down and paw at his thick ass. It wasn't a young bubble ass, it wasn't Kevin Murphy's kicker's ass, but this man went to the gym regularly and had for years.

"Yess.." he hissed.

I kneaded his ass for a minute longer then stepped back, in full ready to fuck mode. As I reached down and started undoing my shorts and kicking off my shoes, my trick looked at me with horny anticipation, his daddy dick hard and leaking, a solid six-incher that stood out from his trimmed but hairy crotch.

"I guess we didn't talk about specifics," he said, stepping back to the bed. "You a missionary or doggy position kind of guy?"

God, this was 180 degrees from my normal Grindr experience. I always met freaks who'd get real porny and weird, or I met guys who were bossy about their needs. This man had a fun laid-back vibe, even as we were getting to brass tacks.

Usually my answer would be missionary. "Doggy," I leered, letting my thick long cock fall out as I pushed my underwear down.

"Fuck," the daddy hissed. "You didn't exaggerate the measurements. Take it a little easy at first, then I'm good to go." I watched as he got onto the bed, on all fours. It was clearly the body of a man in his late 40s, but I was going to enjoy it all the same.

I got up on after him, letting the mattress sink with my weight. I'd hit almost 240 in college ball, and while I'd leaned down a little since then, I still was 230 pounds of tall muscle.

I remember one time I'd started eating out some model looking guy I'd hooked up with and he about freaked out, telling me he wasn't into getting rim. But as I kissed along this man's lightly furred ass cheeks, one side then the other, he spread his legs in an unmistakeable green light. I dove in and licked.

Fuck, this daddy loved it. I thought about what JC said. Masculine dudes with that drunk sorority chick worthy wild streak. He was some regular guy on business, and he was enjoying me eating him out and munching wildly at his clean pucker.

"Holy fuck, dude!" he growled, the deep voice making his words seem more sexual. "Eat my fucking hole."

I did. I wasn't even expecting an extended rim session for this. I almost thought it would be a pump and go, but I now rode the experience, gripping his cheeks, pulling them apart and tongue fucking this man who indeed was old enough to be my father.

I could have kept at it, too, but I needed to fuck. I leaned up, wiped off the spit from my chin and reached down to wet my cock.

"There's lube and condoms," he said, nodding to the night stand. "I'm on PREP so do what you want, man." Again, that deep voice had my balls twitching.

I slathered on some lube and lined up my bare prick. Daddy was gonna get raw dogged. I gave a two-mississippi pause then pushed to enter him.

There was some snugness at the ring but otherwise no real resistance. I popped in, making the man grunt a little, but he braced his upper body, took a deep breath, then nodded. I pushed my way all the way in, deep into his hot tightness. I forgot how amazing a good fuck felt. Bottoming out, I gripped his waist and began a slow pump.

"Jesus, you're a big boy," he grunted, excitement in his voice.

"6-four," I teased, now fucking him with firmer strokes.

"I meant your cock," the daddy said.

"I know," I hissed. "You're taking that big dick."

"Christ, man," he replied. "Fuck me! Fuck me big guy!"

I did. Getting more and more into it. I was enjoying this position of holding his waist and using that leverage to pull his leaner muscular build onto my hard pistoning cock as much as I was pushing into him. But as I got more excited and more into the mounting pleasure, I felt a need for something more animalistic. Leaning forward, I covered his back with my muscular chest and torso and just started hammering him with hard short strokes.

"Oh fuck oh fuck," he hissed. Loving it, but feeling the challenge of taking me that way, given my strength.

It wouldn't take long though. I now supported my weight with one arm while the other one wrapped around him, pulling his hard body next to mine for maximum contact and steady penetration.

He too was braced on one hand now while the jerked off to my inward strokes.

He came a second before me, but it was a photo finish. I let out a deep heavy growl and enjoyed the most amazing orgasm I'd had in a LONG time.

He finally withdrew his hand and let my weight push him down into a flat lying position.

"Am I too heavy?" I asked as I kissed his neck softly. I didn't want to pull out just yet, the aftershocks felt pretty amazing.

"I'm good," came that deep voice. "I like it, actually."

I kissed him more, along his neck. It's a weird thing of mine. Some guys lose interest after getting their nut, but I get in a real romantic headspace after cumming. It's freaked some men out.

Daddy picked up on it. "I thought you'd be a fuck and go kind of guy," he said with a soft laugh.

"Sorry," I said, pushing myself up off him some.

"Don't apologize, it's nice."

I ran my hand along the man's arm. Strong, not as big as mine, but there's something about an older man that meant more seasoned muscle. "I know this is just a hookup," I said. "I just like talking with a guy I have sex with. I'm weird, I guess."

He got quiet, but his reply felt calm and measured. "We can grab brunch if you like. I can learn more about the guy who just gave me the fuck of my life."

"Yeah," I said.

Now as we uncoupled and rinsed off in the bathroom before getting dressed again, I was having second doubts, and maybe I was leading him on too much. I absolutely didn't want anything serious with this guy. After today, I'd probably half forget him. This was just my hormones talking.

He seemed to read me. "You OK, man?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He gave me an empathetic look. "Don't worry, I know I'm just a piece of tail to you. But I'm starving... why don't we get a bite and then you can get back to your bachelor party duties?"

I smiled. "Sounds good," I said. I stepped up and kissed him, softly. Wrapping my arms around his waist and enjoying the height difference.

"My name's Curt," he said.

"Brendan," I said.

[void-bitten-ghost]

Modern Mizu hears you like a bit of 'danger and excitement' from one of your friends, so she takes you to an underground fighting ring for like, your fifth date. This is after the gun range fiasco, so you've already seen a side of Mizu that not many have been allowed to see.

When she mentions this idea you're like, so fucking excited but still kinda like??? There's one of these here????? Nearby????? Holy shit yes???? Please?????? That's so cool?????

She specifically avoids answering how she knows it exists. This isn't about her. This is about sharing an experience she loves and you've shown interest in.

She picks you up on her bike (because Of Course she would have a motorbike that's like either this hand-me-down or a fixer-upper she restored) and you go. It's exactly what you thought it would be, off vibes and dodgy people, but being with Mizu somehow makes you feel safe because she's confident. But it's not an arrogant kind of confidence, it's a steady, assured sort of confidence that puts you right at ease as she takes your hand and leads you through the crowd.

Now, something you don't know is this is not Mizu's stomping grounds. Not even close. But she knew it by name and reputation and it was close enough you could both make a night out of it rather than three. Although... she wouldn't mind if that were to happen--

She snaps back to reality when you step forward and holler out encouragement to the scrawnier one of the two currently in the ring. The corner of her mouth quirks at your enthusiasm, a brow lifting and a hip popping as she crosses her arms to just. Watch you. As you lose yourself to the energy of the room.

The match ends with the scrawny one getting his ass handed to him by the dude built like a brick shit-house. She expected as much. It takes a certain amount of skill to be able to take a mountain of a man like that down while having such a slight build. She'd know, after all.

Anyway. Everything is going swimmingly until some prick pushes his luck trying to get your attention. You very bluntly tell him he's barking up the wrong tree and he does not take the rejection well. Mizu tries to not intervene directly with your battles too often. You're a capable person, it's one of the things she lov- likes. Likes about you.

But then the burly fuck reaches for you. You smack his hand away and go to headbutt him. She grabs you by the waist before you could start the climb to reach and if you weren't so riled up you might have short circuited at the feel of her calloused hand on your skin.

"This bitch yours, mutt?" He grunts to Mizu, and you see fucking red.

"You fucking dare call her a mutt you jumped up little cun--"

"Yes," she says over you, calm as a still lake, and you do actually short circuit at Mizu calling you 'hers'. The heat of anger in you switches gears to something far sweeter, but no less scalding.

"And I would appreciate it if you didn't upset her," Mizu says, her fingers trailing to your hip and gripping a belt loop possessively. You can suddenly feel every point of contact. Hip, arm, chest...

That's when the man looks at Mizu. Really looks at her with a lean forward and squinted eyes, looking over her tinted shades.

"Onryo," he breathes, and you feel Mizu tense behind you. She hadn't heard that name for a good long while. It was a name from her troubled youth. One she thought was long behind her since going legit.

"You're a long way from home, demon."

"What of it?"

You could sense something was happening as the two spoke in what you thought was an amicable tone, but then Mizu is pulling you behind her and shedding her jacket. You take hold of it instinctively as she went to drop it on the ground and she finally turns your way.

"Everything is fine," she tells you in that same confident tone, but she must see your confusion and anxiety written on your face because she takes your chin in her hand and gives you a quick peck on the lips. You stand there with a stupid, dumbstruck look she grins at as she--

She's heading to the ring. She's heading to the middle of the ring and she's shedding another layer as she climbs over the freshold oh dear gods you don't know what to do. What to think. Holy fucking shit she's right there in a sports bra and baggy pants while wrapping her knuckles-- where did she get wrappings from?????

You're more than short circuiting at this point. You need a soft reboot. Maybe a full reboot at this rate since she's sliding off those tinted glasses and-- oh.

You see her eyes.

You've seen them before, of course. But not like this. Not with this intensity behind them. Like she's looking right through her opponent to predict every single movement his future self might consider making. That indomitable focus had you flushing with heat from head to toe as you watched, mouth parted, breaths quickening.

She floors a man twice her size and three times the bredth and your knees might give out. Are you swooning? You might just be fucking swooning holy fuck--

But then she gets gut punched and then tackled by a secret second opponent and you snap back into the whole situation.

You scream out encouragement to Mizu until your lungs feel dry, and then you scream some more. You want to be the loudest. You want Mizu to hear you and know you're rooting for her while she wipes the floor with these cheating bastards.

There's four of the fuckers now. Four all dressed in similar... you hesitate to call them uniforms. More like they all shopped at the same tec-wear store at the same time. But shit are they fast. You have the slightest moment of worry when you see the glint of metal fly past in one of their fists--

Mizu breaks thier arm with a sickening twist and a wet 'crack', and you think you might never have been so turned on in your entire fucking life.

(And also you might need to address and analyse some things about yourself later...)

The metal drops to the floor with an audible clang and a loud noise goes off somewhere. You're going to be honest, you're not really paying attention to anything else other than how Mizu moves around her opponents. Even outnumbered she holds her own, muscles coiled and yet her movements are smooth like flowing water. You can't help but think of the type that wears away cliffsides and cracks apart mountains, because that's what she's doing. She's fighting smart where they're fighting with force, and she is kicking their fucking asses--

Others converge on the ring, the crowd flooding in to hold them all down and you can't help but notice it takes five fully stacked men to hold Mizu down. And even then that only lasts about seven seconds before she breaks free, methodically picking them all off one by one before she launches herself into the now turbulent crowd.

That's when you panic, shouting for her while elbows and shoulders send you this way and that. You narrowly dodge a fist to the face before a hand grabs yours. You're ready to swing right back when you lock eyes with those sharp blues you so adore.

You both book it out, avoiding flailing limbs and thrown table legs. You've somehow still got Mizu's jacket in the crook of your arm when you both make it outside and keep running, only stopping when the sound of sirens was long, long off in the distance.

You're both curled over in a dark, dank alleyway, breaths haggard and coming out as clouds in the crisp night air.

You look up from your knees, ass pressed against the brick wall to support your wobbly legs, and you can't help but crack a grin when you see Mizu in a similar state, only just realising what the fuck just happened.

The grin breaks into a laugh when Mizu looks to you with a bright smile of her own, it's a wheezing thing at first, but then it becomes a full belly laugh when she joins you. And oh, is that such a rare sight. Mizu losing herself in a laugh and then looking at you with the most beautiful full face smile you've ever seen in your life.

Your giggles die in the face of that smile, replaced with a quiet awe and probably the dumbest looking lovesick stare--

Steps. Multiple steps approach the alley and Mizu's first and only instinct is to hide and protect you, pressing you back against the wall and covering your mouth with her hand, catching your yelp of surprise before it could really become an external sound.

And ohhhhh, what a predicament you find yourself in. Pinned to a wall by this very strong and capable and, evidentally, dangerous woman who took you out tonight to a place you would only dream of going to and protected you the entire time and then caused a room wide fight to break out that she was, up until that point, winning--

Ohhhh my phone is currently dying a death imma have to post and carry on later because my brain is a bastard that way 🙃

[dc-imagines]

~DC Imagines~

Jason Todd X Hero!Reader

TW: Suggestive, Mentions of murder, Cussing

Depending on what time in Jason's life the two of you meet, you two could be on opposite ends of justice ⚖️ or fighting side by side

Whatever your abilities are, he's going to kind of scoff at you and do his best to show he's the better fighter between you two

Either he entered your city or you entered Gotham, both of you following a lead and trying to stop something from happening

Apparently your leads ran in the same circles because you're suddenly face to face with Red Hood and he's fucking massive 👌

If you beat his ass then he'll sulk about it later and insist you pulled some dirty trick or cheated, even blames whatever circumstances were going on at the time

"You got lucky! That's what happened!"

But if he wins, then he's smug and will lord it over you in a way that is irritating and sexy

"Listen, Babe, if you're looking to get pinned down again, then you're barking up the wrong tree. I don't have time for that."

The most amicable encounters the two of you will have is when you have to team up against a common enemy, and even then, you'll have to intervene, or he'll kill them

"We aren't killing them! Stand down!"

Honestly, you'll have to stand between them and Red Hood to prevent it, but you might not be doing much to stop him

If he has to hurt you to take them down, then he will. He doesn't know you well enough to care about you and your well-being at this point

"The hell we aren't! I'm doing the world a favor by putting them down!"

Of course, he pushes back. It will honestly turn into a fight between the two of you, which leads to the villain getting away

"You let them get away!"

"I did!? You're the one who picked a fight!"

Eventually, as you two run into each more and team up more often then Jason will start to warm up to you more, be more willing to abide by your boundaries

You two still do butt heads when it comes to beliefs, but if you manage to skirt around the topic of punishment and killing, then it's a good time

He pushes those thoughts down though, not letting himself dwell on them for too long and trying to just enjoy the moment together

You two sometimes catch each other staring, both of you looking away with small blushes on your faces but neither says anything

Or one of you tackles the other to keep them from getting hit, rolling until one of you is on top, both panting and staring at each other's lips

Only to have the moment ruined when you're both attacked because you got too caught up in each other

Lots of little moments where you two smile a little too long at each other, or you hold him a little too tight on his motorcycle or you two are stuck a little too close to each other for it to be platonic

Talking about that time you two hid in a vent together with Jason on top of you and your ass was pressed to his groin, the two of you deathly still and unable to look at each other without blushing afterwards

It helps that you two have an insane attraction to each other, that he thinks you're hot as hell and could see himself working with you long-term

He's always in a better mood after a night out with you, no matter how things went down or how beat up he got

He's just in a good mood the next day, unable to hold in the small smile on his face whenever he thinks of you

Everyone around him notices it, Dick of course, being the first to press him about it, not so subtly teasing him and insinuating that Jason has a lover

Tim and Duke try to team up and trick Jason into giving up information about you but he just threatens to knock their heads together

Cass and Steph try to follow him out on patrol and see if you two are meeting up or hooking up, but you manage to catch them, Jason quickly booting them out

Damian genuinely doesn't care at first, but everyone's sudden interest sparks something in him, and he takes it as a competition to try and find out just who you are to Jason

Barbara is the one who finds out the most about you because, of course she does, she's too smart for her own good and she rubs it in everyone's faces

"I know what city they protect, their abilities, and how many times they've been spotted with Red Hood~ What do you guys have on them?"

"I know that they're really killing it in that suit. You think they could make me one in purple?"

Alfred helped her out, though. In fact, he helped everyone out because he's a sucker for all that gossip

Bruce is just tired and wants Jason to be happy, is grateful to you for putting a stop to Jason's more extreme forms of punishment

You may or may not have a run with Batman himself and have an awkward conversation about Red Hood and your intentions

But Bruce also just wants to make sure you know what you're getting into with Jason, he even gives you a way to contact him if Jason ever goes too far

"Uh-thank you..? Mr. Batman-Sir..?"

Jason is just sick of everyone trying to sniff out his business and just wants to have this one thing to himself without having to share with his family

Which makes it really sound like he likes you, just a little bit 🤏

He will deny it and tell everyone to butt out of his business, which only confirms their suspicions

"Oh, he's so into them."

"For sure."

It's not like you two know each other's secret identities so he can't just call you up and ask when you're free to hang out, he has to wait for when you two are in vigilante mode

So he looks forward to nighttime and will find excuses to come around your territory when he can, which isn't often, but it's enough for you two to grow closer

Your relationship becomes more relaxed than it was in the beginning, more playful and teasing as tension between you two turns into something else

You start to rely on each other in a fight, moving in sync and quickly becoming an unstoppable duo that balances the other out

You stop asking not to kill and instead just ask him to trust you, which seems to work because he'll always reluctantly let you handle the criminal/villain

"Just-trust me with this, okay? Let me handle them and keep the blood off your hands a little longer."

"...fine."

But he's not going to leave you alone with them, insisting on helping you escort them because he would never forgive himself if something happened to you

"I'm coming with you to make sure you don't let them get away again, got it?"

You have two options, tease him because you see through his pathetic attempt to hide his real motivation

"You could just admit you worry about me~"

Or take the bait and end up bickering the entire way there with him, making your hostage wish you had just let Jason kill them instead

"You bastard! You were the one who let them get away last time!"

He thinks it's cute to ruffle your feathers but will roll his eyes under the mask if you tease him instead

Jason gets a bit jealous if you work with other heroes, especially anybody from the Batfam, because how could you!?!?!

Is super rude and testy with whoever your partner is, and it's just horribly obvious how jealous he is but he won't admit it

"Wait, are you jealous..?"

"Of course not! I just think it would make more sense for us to work together on this, don't you?"

"Maybe, but they're my boyfriend/girlfriend/lover sooooo-"

"YOUR WHAT!?"

"So you are jealous!"

Weeks later, he'll ask you if you're actually seeing anyone, which will be the most he's ever asked about your personal life, your real identity

He doesn't know why he asked you, hates that he did because he's terrified of your answer, if you do have a boyfriend then he's going to be crushed

But if you don't, then you surely deserve better than him, every bad thing he's ever done since you two met suddenly haunting him

You hum softly and look up at the night sky, unsure if you want to really answer that before deciding that you trust him enough

"No, no boyfriend or anything like that. Just some annoying guy who won't quit bothering me at night, but he isn't so bad."

It takes Jason a moment to register what you said, relief flooding his body before hot realization hits him

"You're the annoying one!"

He throws a strong arm around you and tugs you close to him, squeezing you playfully as his heart thunders in his chest

Your laughter makes his heart ache, your flushed cheeks and smile just make it so much worse because he knows his feelings have developed beyond lust

He can handle lust, it's something hot and electric that would fizzle out the moment he's hit it and quit it

But these warm bubbling feelings inside him? He knows it's only going to get worse because he's falling for you, he wants to be with you

Yet part of him realizes that you two only know half of each other's lives, your true identities still hidden from each other

But he wants you, craves being with you more than anything, so he knows he has to start somewhere, his hands coming up to suddenly unlatch his helmet

You're not too confused, keeping your head on his shoulder, having seen him without the helmet before and knowing of the domino mask underneath

Until his hand is suddenly guiding your own up towards his face, encouraging you to remove the mask and see his real face

"What are you-"

"I want you to know me. All of me. It's okay if you don't trust me but I trust you with this."

He's blushing, you're close enough to see that his cheeks are tinted pink and you can't help but cup his face in your hands, rubbing your thumb against his bottom lip

He really does have kissable lips-

Focus

Instead you guide his hands to your own mask, giving him a reassuring smile as you start to lift his mask off of his face

"I trust you."

You knew he was beautiful, scars and all but you weren't prepared for just how pretty Jason was without the mask

It was unfair really, he already had an amazing physique why couldn't he be just a little bit ugly???

You don't even get a chance to say it because the moment your own mask comes off then you feel naked, trying to look away before a strong hand grips your chin and guides you back to him

You're frozen under his intense gaze as he pulls your face forward, lips nearly touching as he wraps his other arm around your waist

"It won't be easy, being with me you know..."

He sounds so genuine and hurt that it pulls you out of it for a moment, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a bruising kiss

He's in a daze when you pull away, not remembering how you ended up in his lap but drunk on the taste of your lips, strong hands squeezing your ass appreciatively

You lean in to kiss him again and stop just before you kiss him, smiling and cupping his cheek softly

"I was gonna say the same thing, baby~"

✨️🌟✨️

I hope you guys like it! This is my first work for my blog so please send me some requests!

[the-crimson]

Aight thoughts on todays bbh lore cuz we got A LOT. Just stay with me through my nerding about trees it’ll be worth it XD

We pretty much got 100% confirmation that he is intentionally hurting Baghera and Forever and that he thinks of himself as expendable. What fascinates me the most is when Bad asked Foolish this

“Is there anything wrong with burning the forest to save the trees?”

At first glance you might think YES if u burn the forest then there won’t be any trees??!! However it is a custom on fire risk zones to create controlled fires that burn up brush and dead trees so that the risk of a natural and far more devastating fire is reduced. Additionally, if a fungus infects a forest, burning the infected trees may be the only way to prevent the spread to the rest of the forest.

On top of that, there is a specific type of tree species that requires fires in order to reproduce. These are often Pine trees that drop pinecones. Pinecones hold seeds inside them that only germinate when immense heat is applied to them: the heat of a forest fire. When they are within these temperatures, the seeds germinate and the pine cones pop, scattering the seeds on the forest floor. These trees adapted to form a symbiotic relationship with fire one of if not the most destructive natural forces on the earth.

Do you know one of the trees that has developed this adaption? Redwoods.

Do you know which tree bbh brought up when giving Jaiden a PINECONE gift for her birthday today? A Redwood.

I’m like actually going insane. This can’t be a coincidence right????? I’m not going crazy right???

The whole reason I noticed this scene is because I live near the redwood forests in California and I know all about the way these trees depend on fires for their survival. It’s something that’s always fascinated me. That’s when I assume Bad was going to ask foolish the above question before Jaiden and Teana cut their conversation short while they were talking on the Titian . He literally had these specific trees on his mind when he was going to ask about burning down the forest.

Let me tell you another thing about Redwood trees. They are ancient. They are massive. They are sturdy. Natural fires are a common phenomenon here and a majority of the redwoods survive with barely a scratch, maybe an inch or two of its outer bark scorched. Nothing it won’t grow past in a year or two when these trees easily live for 500+ years.

(Side note, if there is one place in America you should visit it’s the redwood forests of California. It is literally like entering a portal to another world. These trees are 10-15 ft in diameter easily and you can just feel how ancient the forests are. It’s one of my all time favorite places to go)

So, in the situation Bad is proposing, burning the forest to save the trees, he is actively thinking about Redwoods in this hypothetical. Not only trees that are extremely resistant to fire but trees that depend on fire to survive. That completely changes the way he is approaching this question.

In his hypothetical, the forest will burn. The animals will die. The brush and non redwoods will turn to ash. The land will be scarred and the trees themselves may look dead, branchless and black. But. But. A season will pass and new branches will peel through the charcoal. Seeds deep in the soil will surge forth as the soil is fed nutrients from the ash. Animals will return. Pinecones will shed their fertilized seeds to give birth to a new generation of trees. And by next year, the forest will look just as vibrant as it had before the fire. Trees may bear the scars of the flames but life continues and it continues and it continues always.

I might actually be going crazy bbh makes me crazy cc!bbh makes me crazy I’m losing my mind

[yandere-writer-momo]

FHJSHKSKKWK YAY KATSUMI ASKS!!!!!!

Mine is: How’d he be if Darling was a gold digger in a AU and just married him for his sweet cash he and his family probably make from the nation wide dojo?

He stupid till the very end? He that delulu we love him or what?

Even better if we 🤰so he gotta be forced to give us alimony and that sweet child support if we leave him for richer prospects!!!!!

I’ll give you one better. Gold digger reader who doesn’t realize what she’s gotten herself into until it’s too late! Kind of a little horror piece.

Yandere Baki Shorts: Barking Up The Wrong Tree

Yandere Katsumi Orochi x Afab reader

Katsumi would be delulu till the end. He’s smitten from the first day he met (your name) when she came to the dojo to learn karate. A pretty, foreign girl wanted to know karate? He’d be happy to teach her!

Katsumi hasn’t had much time to explore relationships since he was so busy with karate. (Your name) was the perfect opportunity and he was excited to get to know her. She was close in age and she was single too! Katsumi couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity!

Over time, the relationship develops with him. To him and all the other karatekas, (your name) is a precious lamb in need of protection. But in reality she is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She’s merely here to milk him of some of his money and then leave. She just didn’t think Katsumi would be so easy. Hell he was still a virgin.

(Your name) would pretend to be shy whenever Katsumi fixed her form. She would shyly glance away whenever his chest is revealed and she would act so innocent. Katsumi eats it up every. Single. Time. He can’t get enough.

So it’s no surprise when he asks her out on dates. He’s a the kind of guy who buys flowers and chocolates. The kind to hold doors open and pull out a chair out. He’s a total simp. The easiest target she has had so far.

(Your name) is so sweet to him and she didn’t mind that his palms were always sweaty. She would praise him and go to all his games. And he rewards her with so many gifts.

If Katsumi is busy, he will send her expensive gifts she had wanted or slightly mentioned. Sometimes he’d even give her cash. He had no idea he was nothing more than a sugar daddy to (your name). The two of them hadn’t even had sex and he’s already done so much for her… he was sweet.

But that’s when she noticed how unhinged he started to become. How his touches would linger and how he’d sneak a hand in her pocket if you walk too far away from him. How his lips would linger longer on the back of her hand far longer than comfortable. And how often his hands would I graze her stomach. Katsumi was starting to scare her.

And that’s when he began to talk about babies. How beautiful she’d look pregnant. Katsumi even shared baby names with her and talk about how he’d teach their child karate.

She had to leave. She had to leave right now. The money wasn’t worth it anymore if he was talking about having kids with her.

(Your name)’s hands desperately rummaged through her drawer. Her eyes wide and breathing uneven.

“Where is it?! Where is it?!” (Your name) cried to herself in her search for her passport..

She caught Katsumi tampering with her birth control and now she knew she needed to flee right now. He wanted a family and she was so irrationally afraid of child birth. She cut him off immediately and hasn’t answered his calls for two days now.

“(Your name)?” (Your name) froze when she heard her front door open and Katsumi’s voice. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be at the dojo. “(Your name)? Are you okay?”

(Your name) trembled, she felt like a cornered animal when Katsumi appeared in her doorway. The karateka gave her a big, goofy grin.

“Hey! I didn’t mean to scare you. You just haven’t answered my calls in two days so I was worried about you.” Katsumi frowned at her disheveled form. “Are you sick? You’re shaking!”

Katsumi closed the distance between them in a flash, his strong arms pulled her against his body. “Your face is so pale… do you have a cold? I can go get you some soup, baby.”

(Your name) shook her head no. The waterworks began to fall which only made Katsumi more concerned.

“Don’t cry! You don’t have to worry about me getting sick! I’m a tough guy!” Katsumi pressed his lips to the top of her head. “You’re so cute being all concerned about me… I love you!”

A loud sob escaped her lips which made Katsumi pulled her head into his chest. He shushed her and wiped her tears away with his thumbs, but it only made her cry even harder.

“There. There. Say. How about you stay at my place and I’ll take care of you?” Katsumi smiled warmly down at her. “It can be like a practice run for when we’re husband and wife! What do you say?”

“I-I want to go home-“ Katsumi scooped her up bridal style in his arms. His eyes filled with so much adoration, she thought she’d be consumed.

“Then let’s go home together.” Katsumi then began to ramble. “I’m looking into buying a bigger place. Just like the ones you said you liked when we went on that walk a month ago. One where we can start a family… oh! How many kids do you want? I’d love to have a big family but if you only want one or two, that’s perfect.”

(Your name) had barked up the wrong tree.

[radioisntdead]

Partner in crime

Alastor x gn! reader

Warnings: OOC, death, inaccurate portrayal of getting shot

Song used

You and Alastor had known each other for years, you were close childhood friends at least you thought you were,

You remember your mothers calling the two of you a couple of peas in a pod, or partners in crime,

It was funny, who would've thought the two of you would actually become partners in crime.

Maybe if you didn't have an unhealthy codependency on Alastor you wouldn't had ended up like you did.

When you're gone I feel alone again

You scrubbed away at the floor, cleaning away any remnant of the blood that was spilled that evening, Alastor had gone to bury the remains of the poor man he had slaughtered.

The voices cannot hold my hand

You would lure them in, you were good at lulling others into a false sense of security,

They keep me company at very best

and he'd kill them when they least expected it, sometimes you felt guilty but Alastor would be quick to convince you that your guilt was unnecessary, that the people whose lives the two of you stole away deserved it.

Distract me from my loneliness

They did deserve it right?

Maybe I'm just an anomaly

You continued scrubbing the floor clean, but no matter how hard you scrubbed you could never wash away the fact that someone had died there

Even my demons have their families

You wondered how their families reacted to their loved ones death, were they mournful, were they joyful? Did they not care? Did they even notice?

Truly something must be wrong with me

Would anyone notice if you died? Besides Alastor you didn't have many friends, sure you were kinda friends with Mimzy but that was only because of Alastor, and your family, well, let's not talk about that.

You really didn't have anyone but Alastor, and you were alright with that, if you had Alastor the rest of the world could burn for all you cared.

To need you as much as I do

You heard the door open, you hurriedly dropped the towel into the bucket of now cold water, grabbing another rag you wiped away the remaining liquid.

I was never meant to win

You smiled up at Alastor from the ground.

I was never meant to win

"Welcome back Alastor!"

I was never meant to win

Codependency is truly more harmful then people give it credit for.

You'd sacrifice anything, anyone just to remain by Alastor's side, just to see him smile which he did often.

Here's the reigns

You had done this who knows how many times,

Take ahold of me

Lure them in, hand over to Alastor and then clean up the aftermath while he hid the corpse.

Please don't let me go

You didn't change the routine by much, there wasn't much of a mess this time so Alastor asked that you tag along with him this time.

You do the talking

You held the lantern lighting his area as he dug a deep grave, wouldn't want the body resurfacing anytime soon right?

Sew up my mouth if I can't keep it closed

You whispered something to him before he climbed out of the hallow grave getting ready to put the poor soul he had mercilessly killed in it.

There's a dog barking right around the block

He had just gotten done burying the corpse, you were sat comfortably on the ground with the lantern in your lap, he reached out his hand to help you up.

You both froze when you heard the unmistakeable sound of dogs barking.

And a big ol' whistle blow

Alastor looked at you and you looked back at him, you quickly took his hand to pull yourself up, lantern in your free hand.

Run for it

The two of you ran, you could faintly hear the leaves crunching underneath your feet, the cold night wind stinging your face.

I'll keep em occupied for you

The barking got louder, and you tripped over a tree root, lantern falling onto the grass the candle inside falling just at the right angle to extinguish leaving you in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars above.

Alastor kept running, did he know you fell? He wouldn't abandon you right?

Cause I love you, I love you so

You got up, not bothering to dust yourself off you continued running, you couldn't see Alastor.

Left me hangin at the station

You heard shouting.

Where was Alastor? Did he notice you were missing yet?

But you'll be back for me soon

You saw a glimpse of light.

I'm 'bout to die

You didn't even have time to make a noise as a gunshot was fired into your chest, you fell to the ground.

Where was Alastor? Did he get away? Or was he shot down like you were?

Yet the only thing I find i'm worried about is you

You shakily put a hand to the place where the bullet had just entered you, honestly it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would.

Something tells me you aren't coming

Your vision began to become blurry, was it the blood loss? You didn't think you'd die that quickly,

Would you get to see Alastor one last time?

Guess that I'm truly doomed

Alastor didn't notice you were gone did he? Or maybe he did? Did you really think a future cannibal, present serial killer like Alastor would come back for you? You were a liability.

I'm 'bout to die

It was funny, you knew what kind of person he was and you still held out hope that he wouldn't abandon you.

Yet the only thing I find I'm worried about is you

You still held out hope even as your blood covered the forest ground.

Tears swelled up in your eyes as you gazed up at the night sky,

You wondered if Alastor was looking up at the sky too, maybe he had gotten home already?

I'm 'bout to die

It was a good night to die, the last sight you'd see would be the star filled night sky.

Yet the thing on my mind seems to nearly be nothing but you

Alastor let out a string of French words as he turned around to go fetch you, hoping that you weren't too far behind.

I overhear your brain when it's close to mine

Branches and leaves crunched under his shoes as he sped through the woods.

Oh, I know that we're not the same

Your hope that he'd come back for you was slowly dwindling, the voices from before had disappeared, maybe they had fled, maybe they didn't know what they did, or maybe they just didn't care.

My heart's on the line

Alastor stopped by a tree for a moment to catch his breath, the only source of light was the moon and stars above.

I'm just a pawn in your game

To Alastor you were a expendable friend.

Not your partner in crime

In all reality though, To Alastor you were everything, he'd go through hell and back if you asked, he'd take down the most ruthless of people if it'd make you smile.

And you're slowly killing me

You felt tired, you wanted to close your eyes but you fought to keep them open.

You didn't want to die.

Taking your time

Alastor continued running, soon enough he stumbled upon you.

You're slowly killing me, taking your time

With red soaked clothing you laid limp on the ground.

You're slowly killing me

"[Name]? Mon ��toile?"

Taking your- I was never meant to win

You smiled as you heard Alastor's voice.

You're slowly killing me

You didn't know if you were imagining it or if he really came back for you,

Maybe it was a last act of comfort given to you before you died.

Taking your- I was never meant to win

Alastor leaned down beside you, he gently put a hand on your cheek.

You're slowly killing me

You smiled at him, just barely being able to mutter an "Alastor."

And yet I don't mind You were never meant to win

You couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.

You're slowly killing me,

The last thing you saw was Alastor, and the last thing you heard was another gunshot.

But please take your time

At least the two of you would be reunited soon enough.

Good evening folks! Originally I was supposed to post the murder Valentino with JoJo Siwa playing in the background fic today but I hit a slump with the ending and plus I think may have eaten something unfortunate because I feel sick so uh, BACK TO BACK ANGST Y'ALL, ALASTOR TODAY, TV MAN TOMORROW!

[castlevaniacentral]

The sunrise may never be mine

Chapter two.

‘ oh fuck me ‘

Bloody hell.

Crosses, your body was littered with the rosary, you had wrapped your torso in it. Heck it was smart, holy relics do weaken vampires. But in this case it was making it hard to maneuver you. From the steel that laced your slim arms, confirming to its thin frame and the crucifix that sat just above your left hip.

“Well…this seems to be more antagonizing for me than you.” Alucard grunted out before lifting your shirt at your side, narrowing his eyes he ripped the fabric off your body strategically. He could only go in pieces after all. Pulling it from its confinements, he slipped it off before immediately getting to work on the wound that he caused to your side.

Sighing softly he stitched the wound closed, before dressing it. It felt like he has sighed over a hundred times over the passed hour. One he had another human in his home, and to make matters worse you seemed to know some sort of magic.

Quickly his eyes darted over the little small scars over your arm and torso. Your body trembled on the bed, and your face contorted into unreadable expressions before a pained one took its stay.

Clearly you were pained by something, maybe not so much your body right now because you were unconscious. But it seemed you were having a bad dream, while he could dress the wound. Your memory he wouldn’t be fix.

A soft scoff escaped his lips, why was he even considering helping you anyway. Once he dressed this wound for you. You’d be on your way.

Wrapping the bandage over your side, he glanced back at your arm once more, it seemed to be slightly off from the other one. And upon further inspection it seemed to had been your arm was broken but— you were using it and it didn’t seem like it then?—

He gently ran his cold finger tips over your bare forearm before picking it up inspecting it. It looked like your body had attempted to heal itself, though from your living conditions it couldn’t quit get it right. But how long had it been like this?

Foremost the bruising…it didn’t seem fresh, and when you fought you didn’t show much discomfort. This had to be dangerous, risk for blood infection maybe. He could see the attempt at the terrible wrap- had you been using the armour as some sort of splint?

He furrowed his eyebrows gripping your arm, forcing the bone back into its correct position. Suddenly your body jolted causing alucard to pause mid action to inspect how you were feeling. Clearly you felt that, even in your deep snooze. But there was no better time to do it than when you weren’t aware

Rewrapping your arm with a proper splint. He stood straight looking down at your awfully thin stature. A women your age should have been much more bigger than this. Your ribs poked through your skin and shoulders boney.

The will in you to fight was honestly surprising. Discarding the ripped fabric, alucard decided to wipe your bare skin down from the wetness of outside and your sweat. Whatever you were dreaming about it made you vocal, a soft groan and whimper escaping your lips ever so often. The trembles of your body could have been contributed to because of the cold

Covering you with the blanket he turned to leave before taking one last glance at your sleeping form

“Oh fuck me.” He grunted out leaving you alone in the room.

-

You were back at the manor once again, but this time you had done something wrong. You had broken the mistresses vase. It wasn’t a favourite of hers and to be quite frank she didn’t really like it either, but the opportunity presented itself for her to punish you. And so she did.

Having you whipped mercilessly as you were tied to a tree, the smell of bark filled your nostrils. Had it been any other way this smell would of been ok, but for the stance you were in the smell of this bark was disgusting. And leaning your head into it for some relief from the slashes didn’t quite help. You quietly sobbed knowing that if you made too much noise the torture would continue.

And with each slash you felt the skin on your back tear, the blood trickled down your spine, tickling your lower back sending a wave of discomfort and tenderness.

You didn’t meant to do it. It was an accident you had stumbled over from weakness before colliding into the table. You were hungry and over worked but tried not to complain. But finally your body gave in for a mere second. And look at what it brought you…that’s what you get for being weak.

-

You abruptly sat up, pain shooting through your body at your sudden movement. “Agh” you yelped out, Clutching your side with your left arm. Your body was in agony and the sudden decision you just made was ever so possibly one of the worst ones you have ever. Slowly trying to lie back down you let out deep exhales.

Where the hell were you? Where was ash? What was this place? Did you die? You clutched your side with the arm that didn’t tremble in pain.

Your head shot over to the door that opened the blonde male from earlier returning with a tray with a bowl on it.

‘Oh no’ you thought scooting yourself over, before falling off the bed in attempts to escape him. Falling with a loud thud. You huffed out, he was going to chain you up again. You were going to be a slave all over again. He was going to seal away your powers and lock you in the basement. And when you were bad you were going to get tossed in the dark well and forced to stay until-

“Do not be afraid.”

Your thoughts were silenced once he called out to you hearing the tray settle onto the night table that was beside the lavish bed. He walked around the bed before stepping closer to you, “your wounds will reopen again. I took my time bandaging it. Don’t make my attempts go to waste” he stated coldly before reaching down for you helping you up on the bed once again

Your eyes welled up with tears as your body trembled. Not only were you in pain but now you were scared, “please I don’t wanna be slave!” you said between sobs “please let me go”

Alucard stared at you his brows contorting into confusion before slight irritation, “I don’t have any use for slave. There’s nothing you can provide that I cannot provide myself. You’re useless to me” ouch

Helping you up on the bed he set the pillows up behind you for you to lean back up on. “I’ve brought you food. Eat this” walking back over to the table he picked up the bowl holding it towards you. With a shaky hand you reached out to clutch it. Watching you he guided your hands to hold it securely.

“I don’t care about your history or how you ended up here. Once you’re in good condition. I ask that you please leave”

You looked up at him before down at the bowl he handed over. It appeared to be a porridge of some sorts “thank you.” Was all you could stated tiredly, using your good arm you raised it to wipe the tears from your now swollen face.

Alucard didn’t respond to it instead he turned his head from you. Before standing up abruptly to leave, “has your wound reopened from your fall?” You looked down before shaking your head, “no, good.”

You said before starting to eat your food. “I’ll bring you clothes to cover yourself up” yes your body had been out bare, not completely your breast had been covered by bandages you had managed to find to give yourself support. But oddly enough you didn’t cower in shame upon him seeing your fame.

Because this was normal, usually the masters would buy the slaves naked to see if they had any infirmities. You weren’t allowed to cover up when you were demanded to strip, but innocently your mind thought nothing of your bareness being out for him to see. It wasn’t like he was inspecting you.

Surely there was nothing about you that would have attracted him anyway. You were different looking.

-

When was the last time she ate a full healthy meal? Alucard thought to himself quietly. Upon her sitting up and being able to see her clearly now. He understood that this girl was in no good position in the livelihood sense. She was starved, her bones peaked out from her smooth skin, and she looked malnourished. Upon that her body was littered in scars on her back and arms.

He didn’t pry about it, and he refused to ask. He didn’t want to risk feeling any sympathy for her and ask her to stay longer. To be Frank he wanted her out just as fast as she came in.

And her language, it seemed to be broken as well-‘Alucard no, you can’t get involved again’ his voice reminded him, ‘remember what happened last time’ he stopped in his tracks before glancing back at the girl. There wasn’t an evil bone in her body, she was like a child trapped in an adult one.

Oh right he had to clothe her, “I’ll bring you clothes to cover yourself up” he stated watching as she hastily ate. She hadn’t even shuffled to cover self up in shame or embarrassment, it’s almost as if this was normal to her

Walking out of the room he shook his head in irritation.

Why was he doing this again?

[sapphiretanto]

Try Harder

“‘Try harder?!’ I always have to find the solution! You’re leader, Leo. You find the answer!”

Two Quick PSAs:

Because I feel people will think I’m taking Leo’s side, or justifying his actions. I’m not. I don’t think he was in the right for saying that.

This will be very Leo focused— not because he’s my favorite or anything— but because Donnie’s side has already been understood by a majority of people.

Whenever I come across this conversation— whether tiktoks, fanfiction, or fanart— Leo’s personality that’s presented always rubs me the wrong way. He usually gets written or drawn as some haughty asshole that doesn’t give a shit about Donnie’s feelings… ever. That is simply not true. Or that Donnie is the only one to get them out of problems. That isn’t true either. There are plenty of times that Donnie turns to Leo to have the answer or plan when his go awry. He also depends on his older brother’s outward bravery and confidence.

Leo and Donnie’s argument in “The Fourfold Trap” can be built on two things Donnie and Leo are at constant odds with:

Pressure

Limitations

Both Donnie and Leo have the same kind of pressure where they are multitasking and are having to switch tactics in battle almost always.

Donnie is a genius. He’s knowledgeable in mechanics, technology, math, science, biology, history, etc etc. and has also mastered learning some technology of the Kraang as well as creating a way to translate their language. He often lacks the resources to accomplish projects or time to calmly dismantle weaponry and machines and get him and his brothers to safety during battles.

Leo is intuitive and strategically intelligent as well as very disciplined and focused. However, his pressure lies within his leading abilities. Not only must he plan battle strategies with his brothers, he also has to keep an eye on them in battle, be ready to change tactics should something go awry, figure out an exit strategy and this is usually done all while fighting with the enemy. Leo also has to keep a level head and keep his emotions in check. While in the beginning, he often wasn’t respected, his collectedness kept the team together and functional (Raph leading the team in “New Girl in Town” and struggling as well as Leo panicking in “Panic in the Sewers” are good examples of when the leader isn’t collected)

The burden placed on both of their shoulders is very heavy, draining, and a lot to take on as a teenager and they do their best to keep it together, but the built up pressure will sometimes put them at odds when planning during larger battle (i.e. “The Invasion”).

Now, as with anything and everything, there are always limits. Leo and Donnie both struggle with accepting that they have their limits, though, Donnie tends to accept his more than Leo.

Growing up and being the way they are unfortunately puts limits on what they can have or use. Donnie uses a lot of scrap metal and junk to piece things together for the brothers and himself to use and has to be careful with what he does have, since he doesn’t have the access to go into a store and get what he needs.

All of this frustrates Donnie as it limits his abilities, but it has helped him accept it and understand that he can’t push himself to do everything he would like to for himself and to help his brothers. It has also taught him to be resourceful and he has put together amazing mechanical machines. And despite being outcasts in society, he and his brothers do get accepted by some humans. He grows into it becoming enough for him, becoming at least physically confident in who he is.

I don’t think I have to explain just how much Leo ignores his limits. Just woke up out of a coma and his leg is fucked? This idiot goes off in the woods to fight a mutant made of vomit, tree bark, and nightmares. He doesn’t rest it as much as he should be— both because a conflict is happening and when nothing is going on, he’s training on it. Because of some of the lessons Splinter taught him—

“We choose what holds us back and what moves us forward”

“It doesn’t matter that the burden is heavy. It matters that you carry it!”

“With the world at stake, the only thing of importance is that you complete your mission, no matter what you have to sacrifice. Or whom.”

— Leo develops a complex to keep the world and his family safe no matter what happens to him, as well as to suck it up and keep going. Him complaining or ranting about his frustrations doesn’t get him sympathy.

“I just think you guys should be a little better at following my orders.” (Leo)

“Aww, it’s too bad I can’t play my violin while I drive.” (Raph)

“They have no idea what kind of pressure I’m under, and all they do is complain! Is it too much to ask for a simple ‘thank you’?” (Leo)

“Of course it is! Leadership is not about being appreciated, it’s about responsibility.” (Splinter)

Unfortunately, either out of resentment or something else, he holds this same principle for Donnie and pressures him until Donnie snaps at him.

“Donnie! You said you could do this! … They’re aliens from another dimension, what did you expect: a big round ball with a lit fuse that said ‘bomb’?!”

“You gotta fix the Shellraiser fast. Like, yesterday fast!”

“Donnie, you’re gonna have to speed this up.”

There is one other factor that drives Leo to pressure Donnie, and that is his guilt for Karai’s mutation and his lack of skill and knowledge to get her back to herself. Even though there was nothing he could have really done— after trying to stop her or even go with her as back up in “Vengeance is Mine” and coming very close to freeing her before Shredder attacked— he more than likely plays scenarios over in his head where he saved his sister or even took the fall into the mutagen instead of her.

“You should be celebrating your victory. You did a brave thing tonight, Leonardo. You saved everyone.” (Splinter)

“Not everyone. I tried to get Karai out of Shredder’s control. …I failed, Sensei.”

He becomes rebellious and risks his safety—his brothers’ safety also is toyed with if they choose to go along with him— to rescue her and reunite Master Splinter with his daughter and have her be with her family.

The building of his guilt towards Karai’s mutation, the pressure he’s feeling to rescue her from Shredder’s control, and the fact that he is at a limit that he cannot go past altogether drives him to snap at Donnie the way he does.

Was it right and justifiable? Absolutely not. But do I understand that it was a build up things from within and that he didn’t say it just to be an asshole? Abso-fucking-lutely.

[clockwork-ashes]

Wildflowers

Summary: Eris goes to the Spring Court looking for Lucien, and instead finds Tamlin (short one-shot).

Note: Thank you to everyone who shared plot ideas! I'm still working on them :) Huge thank you to the lovely anon that suggested something with Tamlin <3

Eris sat on emerald grass, a green so rich and lovely, still damp in the cool air of the early morning. Leaning back against the rough bark of an old oak tree, he kept his long legs stretched out, booted feet crossed at the ankle. 

The strong scent of wildflowers lingered in the air, sharp and unwelcome with every breath Eris took. He gazed up lazily, letting his head fall against the wood behind him, tracking rays of sunlight as they filtered in through countless branches. 

Eris was always struck with how still the forest was in Spring. Unmoving, as if the trees were made of stone, a stark contrast to Autumn’s constantly falling leaves. He could at least admit that it was beautiful, full of vibrant colours, despite the fact that all the plants were always in half-bloom. 

It was not often that Eris found himself on the other side of the shared border between the two courts, past the gradual change of the seasons. It was even less often that Eris left the Forest House without the High Lord’s permission, but he was prepared for any of the reactions his father might have upon hearing of his whereabouts. 

With a sigh, Eris turned his attention to the small path foot soldiers walked daily during their patrols. He had set one of his own soldiers to keep a steady watch of who came and went, and had been surprised to hear that it was Lucien who took the earliest of shifts on the sunniest of days. 

Lucien had never cared much for armies, had left that to his older brothers so he could hone his skills as a courtier. Eris had heard whispers that Tamlin had made Lucien an emissary, a relatively smart decision considering Tamlin could barely hold a conversation. 

As Eris watched the High Lord of Spring make his way down the path instead of his younger brother, he felt his lips pull down in a scowl. He silently cursed the male who had given him such a dreadfully wrong lead, wondering if he should simply winnow back to his home. 

Tamlin looked troubled, Eris observed, and it was a testament to where his thoughts might have been that he did not notice an Autumn Court prince sitting just out of his line of sight. 

With a sharp whistle, similar to the ones Eris used to capture the attention of his hounds, he made his presence known. He watched as Tamlin whirled in his direction, caught by surprise but still ready for a fight. 

Tamlin had his claws out, sharp and glinting in the light of the sun. Canines longer than usual pressed against his lips, eyes flashing like a mountain lion’s. He kept a large hand on the silver hilt of his longsword. 

Eris scoffed as their gazes met, as Tamlin’s shoulders dropped slightly in relief. It always managed to shock Eris how trusting Tamlin was, young and untried as a High Lord, perhaps too optimistic when it came to believing that Prythian was in a time of peace. 

“Lost in thought?” Eris asked, loosening the laces at his throat. 

Tamlin’s dark eyes tracked the movement, hands falling to his side. “Looking for Lucien?” he called back, claws smaller, but still sharp enough to cause damage if he so wished. 

Eris offered the High Lord one of his most charming smiles, responding with a question of his own. “What if I said I was looking for you?” 

Tamlin scoffed, taking a few careful steps towards the tree Eris was sitting under. “Then I’d call you a liar.” 

“I’ve been called worse,” Eris shrugged. “You look troubled,” he added, hoping Tamlin might give him some interesting information and this whole pointless interaction would not be for nothing. “Copper for your thoughts?”

Tamlin ran his fingers through his hair, tucking a strand behind a pointed ear. “Go back to Autumn, Eris, you won’t find Lucien here.”  

“It’s been a few short years and already your company has run my little brother from your court?” Eris raised an auburn brow, he had heard no indication that Lucien had gone elsewhere. 

Tamlin frowned at the suggestion. “He’s in Summer, going over trade agreements.” 

Eris hummed in response, deciding he could bring such news to his mother. “And you just couldn’t be bothered to join him?” 

“Hybern’s sent one of their generals to my shores,” Tamlin winced before he continued. “I thought your father would have said, she’s looking to stop in Autumn next.”  

Eris waved his hand in a careless gesture. “He’s probably already decided that there will be no alliance made between us. Wariness and good sense come with old age,” he warned, hoping Tamlin was smart enough to send the general back to her island. 

Tamlin simply nodded, and Eris figured their conversation was over. 

He elegantly stood, straightening his brocade waistcoat. “Always a pleasure, Tam.” 

Tamlin scrunched his nose up in annoyance at the way Eris had shortened his name, entirely too familiar. “I’ll tell Lucien you were looking for him.” 

“No need,” Eris shook his head. “I came to see you, after all,” he drawled. 

Tamlin frowned in response. “I think he’d like to know, sometimes I feel like you’re the only one of his brothers that ever mattered.” 

“Do as you like,” Eris clipped, voice measured despite the emotion that nearly choked him. With no warning, Eris winnowed from the Spring Court, leaving its High Lord and the sharp scent of its wildflowers behind him.

[ketterdamskaelishprince]

theo stop scaring the students (idk if this is even possible)

ok so in regards to this post i made yesterday i thought i would just like add to it.

going to once again state i literally have no clue what i'm talking about everything i talk about i say with like 99.999% uncertainty and i'm always open to being wrong and having conversations about characters and stuff like that's my JAM.

anyways, i have only two real possible like things to back me up on this:

the fact that it looks like a dear skull. in the comics we learn that theo loved to hunt and he would often bring home venison for lenore and it ends up being her deathwish meal. i also looked up a deer skull for this and guys as somebody who hates bones i did this for you all

i want to say the picture below looks like it's horse hair that's overgrown, or i want to say it's like bits of bark from a tree. either support my idea.

see the way that looks makes me immediately think of the way he died. since we all know he died by basically having a tree fall on him in a storm.

my only question is how did he get out here? because, being honest and this will not be poetic in the slightest, bro looks a bit deranged. and we know that theo, when he was at nevermore, was the top student.

which then just makes me wonder if he went rogue/he did something that fucked up his place in the spotlight and he was booted out and look he's here. i suggest all of these things not out of thinking i'm correct but because i literally have no clue.

with episode 100 coming out literally tomorrow, this could be the dumbest thing i've ever posted because i could have my theory shot down immediately. and if it is, i'm going to laugh. and if it isn't– i might just like, i dunno, crawl into the fetal position and wonder how i was correct.

i never get things like this right.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi, could you do a Fenrys fic where he and the reader are very attracted to one another but they have to stay away from each other because of Maeve but when they are sent to hunt Lorcan they finally get some alone time together. (It can be suggestive or not, you decide)

Wanna hold you

It was pure torture. Nothing felt more painful than watching the love of your life but not being able to touch them. Hold them. Shield them. Having to pull up a snarly mask. Bark insults at one another. Glaring instead of casting a loving gaze.

"Move", Fenrys would bark in the morning practice, "Oh, your ego is too big to step to the side now?", You leaned towards him, gritting your teeth. "Stop being a headache", he would growl the wolf inside him threatening to take over. "I have sharp nails too, pup", you would remind him. Black cat claws out on the show. "Come on, kids", Gavriel would call out from the other side of the training ground. But for that split second when you two were all up in one another's faces you could let your guards fall. Soaking in that desire that bubbled suppressed deep under.

No one could know. It was a death threat. Something Maeve would toy with till she got bored. It was already painful enough to watch her bed Fenrys as it was. You didn't want to imagine how often she would seek him out if she found out that you had fallen for the white wolf. You found yourself in a pleasure house just get that smell on you. To make lying about the males you bedded more believable. And to hide the smell of Fenrys on your skin.

This had been the longest you two had to be apart. Maeve was getting restless with Rowan running off with Aelin. Then Lorcan deciding that he too wanted to be the main character, leaving the rest of the cadre to pay the price. Fenrys was leaning against the taverna he and Gavriel were staying in. The hunt for Lorcan so far had led them nowhere but you were supposed to join them tonight. Maeve's orders. Just the hours went by but there was no sign of you.

Fenrys was growing restless. You all were far away to no longer feel Maeve's presence. Meaning that finally, he would be able to hold you close for a while. Just soak in your scent.

Fenrys suddenly feels himself being pushed back into the wall, too slow to reach for a dagger as the blade is being pressed against his neck. "Lost in a daydream?", and his knees are weak. You barely managed to move the blade away before he reached to yank you closer to his body. You wrap your arms around his neck. Breathing in his musky smell.

"Mother, strike me. You're actually here", Fenrys breaths out, "Let me look at you, let me...", he's pulling away, carefully shrugging off the hood of your cloak. Your sparkly eyes meet his. You two are grinning at each other like teenagers. "Missed me this much?", you tease him even if your own body is tingling with excitement. "Well the last time I held you was like a month ago", he breathed out, hands going all over your body. Too excited to just stick with one spot. "You mean you fucked me against a tree a month ago. And that's all you remember. Rude", you roll your eyes. But you know that he's not wrong. That truly was the last time you got to spend more time together. Not just settle for accidental brushes against one another.

"You look even more beautiful than I remember", Fenrys mutters, making you let out a giggle, "You're high on adrenaline, pup", you brush some of his blond hair away. Allowing your fingers to twirl one of the strands. "Are you here or am I seeing things?", Fenrys leans to nuzzle against the side of your face. "Listen to my heartbeat. My heart is beating so fast because of you", you say and Fenrys quickly scoops you up in his arms, twirling you around. The happiness pouring out of you like the late night moonlight.

[unhelpfulfemme]

This may be a Bad Take but I think a lot less people would have issues with Padmé Amidala's RotS characterization if they realized that her role in that movie is largely symbolic and that Anakin's attitude towards her is meant to represent the inherent tension between liberty and security (which is clearly one of the main themes in a movie that has Anakin quote George W Bush as he falls to the Dark Side).

Padmé represents the best of democratic values: the capability to perceive everyone's inherent worth, the trust in state institutions, the morality, the benefits and drawbacks of resolving issues in a democratic manner and within the system (she often finds herself helpless in the face of corruption, for example). Padmé's ideals are the core of her character, to the point that she basically is her ideals. Basically, Padmé is to the Galactic Republic what Marianne is to the French Republic.

Now, you may have issues with a female character being used as a personification of a state or a political system, but not only is this a millennia-old narrative tradition, I also feel like you're probably barking up the wrong tree, because George Lucas LOVES using characters as symbols for abstract concepts: Luke as the Hero with a Thousand Faces, the Good vs. Bad Father dynamic with Obi-Wan and Vader, etc. This is completely on brand for the way George Lucas in particular constructs characters.

Even Padmé's most famous line, "So this is how Liberty dies," is indicative of this (and I love the concept of a former slave boy falling in love with Liberty herself).

Padmé dies because Liberty dies, not because she's a weak useless woman.

And Anakin's relationship to her potential death is very much... an indictment of reactionary politics and the War on Terror?

Anakin loves Padmé because she is fair-minded and understanding even when he doesn't deserve it, because she is tolerant, because she is kind, because she fights for justice, because she uplifts people. This is what he is in love with and what he is trying to preserve.

But in the face of nebulous threats, some real and some manufactured, he tries to save her by trampling all over what she stands for. And what she stands for is her. Therefore the very act of trying to save her is what ends up killing her, just like trying to keep your democracy safe by increasingly cruel and authoritarian measures inevitably kills it. Anakin claims that he loves her, that he's protecting her, but he is unwilling to listen to anything she has to say about it, just like plenty of people whose mouths are full of freedom but don't want to think about or apply the values that they are supposedly defending. What she believes no longer matters as long as she loves and comforts and uplifts him (and when she doesn't he goes into a rage).

Everything Padmé stands for, her very way of life and her very way of doing things, no longer exist at the end of RotS. She was becoming increasingly static and helpless during the movie because her way of doing things no longer works as the Republic becomes mired in cruelty and corruption, she cannot do anything but set foundations for an eventual rebellion and hope that a spark of hope survives. She can no longer survive in this new system, and it is in her nature to rather die than compromise herself in order to work within it. In a symbolic way, she quite literally cannot survive if she has to exist within it. She IS Liberty, and it would be a paradox if she survived. She dies and their children - another thing Anakin is fighting to protect, like many people who are "defending freedom" "for the children!!1!" - are made orphans, left to their own devices, forced to fight and rebuild things from scratch because she can no longer nurture them or protect them. This is a political metaphor y'all.

And in this reading, even Shmi's death ends up working better if you squint? Because even though Anakin's anger over her death stems from clear injustice and is fundamentally righteous, the fear and rage that this creates in him, and his inability to cope with it, is what directly causes him to both fear for Padmé's safety and to eventually smother her due to that fear. And to eventually become what he fears, killing Liberty, depriving himself of liberty in the process by becoming Sidious's blind slave, and literally destroying the future of an entire generation of (Jedi) children.

Now, I'm not saying that this makes a more psychological analysis of Padmé's character invalid or that this is the only role that she plays (for example, while Obi-Wan is the "good father figure" in ANH, he's clearly many different things across all the movies and clearly has an established characterization beyond that, and so does Padmé), but I think looking at it through this particular lens does make the choices made for her character less baffling and more indicative of the larger themes of the prequels.