#or at least it doesn't look embeded to me

[blindecho6]

Gift for @fghniki for MCYTblr Holiday Exchange @mcytblrholidayexchange.

[anantaru]

overprotective ex!boyfriend aventurine??? <3

cw. [ex]plicit, rough sex, toxic relationship (you cannot keep a distance from each other!!!), he's obsessed with you, ex! boyfriend au, fem! reader

let's get one thing straight out of the way.

aventurine and you were not broken up. it was merely a skimpy, little break— not worth bothering about.

at least that's how he saw it, and aventurine couldn't believe that this pointless pause was turning from a couple days to multiple weeks. precisely how you give off the idea of wanting to move on? live life but not with him in the picture?

without reserve, it turned him insane.

although luckily enough, aventurine had no plans of letting you go.

he wanted your relationship to go on forever, because you see, aventurine doesn't just love you, that certainly wasn't enough— he was undoubtedly obsessed with you, and the more you two were apart from one another, the more you craved each other.

or at least the physical aspect of it.

you cannot help it, and you know it's wrong— but there was only one person who knew your body from inside and out, who would reach for the stars in the sky in order to make you happy. aventurine wasn't the easiest person to get along with, sure, but that didn't mean you could just forget about him, not when you were still very much in love with him too.

to a higher standard, you do realize you were important to him, right? he's a little fucked up in the head and sometimes seems like he's lost his mind, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how love was supposed to feel like.

you showed him how it looked like, yes, how it felt, of course, how it moved and tasted.

at this point, you were really using each other for selfish reasons, acting like two dirty liars with two different goals.

aventurine was angel alike, calming to ones gaze— hypnotizing eyes that swerve tremors through your veins when he fixes you underneath his famished glare, or his cheeky grin that spread wide and sharpened on instinct when he catches you stare.

when it comes to the hold he had on your body, you are done for, sensed the magic-like pull resembling that of a moth to a fire, igniting your deepest desires.

"i knew you'd come back to me, sweetheart," aventurine's sugarcoated, and a little eerie whispers leisurely trickle from the tip of his tongue before running a cold shiver down your spine, "because you see baby, you always do."

"nothing can break us apart, isn't that correct?"

his thrusts were usually on the stronger side, but they held on to calculated movements of his hips trapping yours against the mattress.

his grinds and sensual thrusts ripple through your opening, rutting back and forth your sopping walls, truly restlessly, his raw skin connecting and hungrily soaking up your filthy juices.

your blistering hot cunt was designed to turn him into a mess, one that cannot get enough of you— aventurine gets drunk on the feeling of your pussy suffocating his shaft, and he's making you look at him through a doe-eyed expression when his tongue darts past his mouth to lick across your bottom lip, listlessly pulling angelic noises from you.

aventurine doesn't make love to you, such phraseology enunciated boredom to him personally.

at the same time, he fucked you with meaning— until the bed rocks violently back and forth and scratches the wooden floor as he reminds you on whom your body belonged to.

it's euphoric, salacious and wicked in the way how your snug, constricted cunt shivered around his hefty girth, his tip embedding a touch of feathers once and away your golden spots until you were crying out his darling name.

he drags further into your creamy cunt until you clench a bit, resulting in his thrusts stuttering through one, big snap forward and fuck, it's just so long, covering every spot on your walls without much thought.

and yeah, that's right, aventurine was not only confident in his skills but moved his shaft as precisely as you liked.

although now, his hips were suddenly turning slow and ponderous— you already know that he did it on purpose, probably to taunt and make you beg for him, or perhaps so he could slant forward and hypnotize your eyes with his own, buzzing gaze.

your legs were tensing hard around his waist as he angles his hips just right, setting off sparks behind your eyes when he pushes down on your bristling pussy— how magical and full you felt, it turned your brain overstimulated to the point where no left over energy in your body was able to even focus on the aftermath.

the moments that follow next, the consequences of fucking your ex boyfriend, merely days after your problematic break-up.

but that's what you wanted, right? it's what your body craves when you look at him through soused lashes, sticky mascara smeared over your eyes as his warm heaves ghost along your wet lips.

a big, twisted smirk on his face finalized this situation, your mind spiraling into the humid air upon witnessing it.

right then and there, it feels like there weren't any problems— only aventurine and you, grinding your bodies together with your heart rattling against your chest when he thrusts all the way inside of you until his balls hit your ass, his erection delving all the way forward.

how indescribably strange love was.

it can be destructive, but at the same time, it can pump the adrenaline and make your heart beat rapidly.

that was something no science could explain, honestly, an all-consuming emotion, engulfing your body and mind.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[suiana]

(yandere! prince x female! reader) (for @violetvase) (again im sososo sorry for the late commission catch up😭😭😭) (tw: implied dubcon mentioned?)

"you know i'm mad at you, right?"

he mumbles, staring outside of the window. you gulp nervously, not daring to break the cold tension as you nervously sit at the foot of his bed.

alas, you had been captured by him, freedom forever gone as you had to face the consequences of leaving your dear ex crown prince turned king alone.

you yelp as he suddenly turns to face you, looking at you with cold eyes.

"but you've birthed our two lovely children and... i cannot imagine how they'd feel if they saw their mother miserable."

the king mutters, a hint of a smile gracing his lips as he approaches you slowly. he stops right in front of you, a gloved hand caressing your cheek fondly as he smiles softly. though his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"how shall i ever punish you for such a grave crime, hm?"

he mocks, hand gripping your chin tightly as he forces you to maintain eye contact with him. you could only muster put whimpers, shaking under his gaze as you remain silent. you didn't want to anger him even more than you already had.

"say something darling. i want to know how i should punish a queen who ran away from her kingdom and husband."

he hums, relishing in your behavior and silence. finally, you learnt your place, haven't you?

"mn... maybe I'll put another baby in you?"

he suddenly mutters, looking at you with glee in his eyes as you immediately sputter, shaking your head. no! you didn't want more kids! especially if you didn't really want them in the first place!

"just kidding. having too many kids will be bad for you."

he chuckles, patting your head as he lets go of your chin. it's as if he could sense your every emotion and feeling, manipulating you by keeping you guessing about how he's going to punish you.

"i think I'll just punish you by placing a pretty little collar on your neck. one embedded with jewels and the prettiest of laces."

he hums, hand drifting towards your exposed neck before his eyes darken. you avert your eyes from him, staring down at your lap as you chew on your bottom lip. damn... it was going to be super embarrassing... oh well, at least it was better than another baby.

"I'm being very lenient because I don't want my children to be mentally deprived of a mother. don't disobey me again, understood?"

he speaks up, tilting your head up to meet your gaze yet again.

"I don't want to hurt you, please understand. i just need to... remind you that your place is beside me."

you nod, obeying silently as your husband chuckles softly. you really don't want your punishment to be worse so you'll just suck it up and pamper him for now.

"that's a good girl. i love you."

he mumbles, kissing your forehead before sitting down and cuddling into you. you stare at his innocent behavior, eyes softening slightly as you hesitantly lean into his touch.

man, it's always moments like this that cause you to forget that he's crazily devoted to you. you wish. he were more sane, maybe then you'd be able to fully love him.

[hopeluna]

✘︙Asmodeus !

♡! hope's notes: yes this is a repost from the old blog, hush

CW: body insecurities

"If i'm more pretty, do you think they'll like me?"

The silence that followed gets broken by Asmo's laugh. He mutters a small "idiot", shaking his head, chuckling at the mirror in front of him. Well, the half broken mirror. Most of the broken shards and pieces were on the floor anyway, few embedded on his knuckles.

Looking around the room, Asmo sighed tiredly. Pillows strewn around on the floor, torn pillows ; his pristine silk bedsheets all crumpled up on the floor too. His beauty and skin care products were more or less useless now, most of them had their products dumped in the sink, some in the trash.

He supposed, in a ironic way, it was a beautiful mess.

Lucifer was definitely not going to be pleased and so, albeit reluctantly, Asmo got up to first clean his hands. A little magic would cover and heal it up.

This was the fourth-no fifth "breakdown" he has had in a week. Not his proudest moment. Its all your fault really, or at least that's what he tries to tell himself.

Asmo knew he was pretty. He is pretty. Its a fact. But then again, beauty is subjective, isn't it?

So, maybe he wasn't pretty to you. He has tried to change to your preferences though. He's wore perfumes you'd like, clothes that you find attractive, colours that you love. He doesn't understand why it's not working, he's tried everything.

Asmo knows this is pathetic but what can he do? His looks, as he's been told, are all he's got. So if you don't like his looks, you're never gonna want to speak to a ugly Asmo!

The next morning comes and he's there for breakfast as usual, joking and talking with his brothers as if he did not want to peel his skin off last night.

"You know- I have to say, I think blue looks really attractive on some people!-" his ears perk up as he glances at your direction as you talk animatedly with a hardly-listening Beel munching on his and your food.

I could use some blue in my wardrobe. Asmo continues eating as he makes a mental note to go shopping later.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[tabithatwo]

just a few of my jackie taylor is a lesbian and she knows it (or she at LEAST knows she likes women) thoughts

the opening. “jackie panting” on the infamous lesbian aunt photo. we are introduced to her for the first time without the other girls as firmly NOT enjoying whatever jeff is attempting while we are zoomed in on a picture of Her And Shauna.

she fakes it to get him to stop. that isn’t necessarily lesbian on its own, but the way she does it?? the completely unconcerned manner/low effort? this man is so low stakes for her. you know straight women are out there putting on actual Performances. this is not that. she knows she has to keep him in an intellectual/societal way and that’s her only goal

i don’t feel like i really need to explain this one? if you are a lesbian that ever tried to be with men i think this expression in response to those words speaks for itself lmao. our girl is Tired

this scene is jackie almost Emotionless. we don't see that a ton, especially not in her day to day. she is apathetic and trying not to Think about what she's doing. i left the subtitles on for a reason bc "today is the greatest" is very in line with "jackie panting" from earlier

they did NOT want us to miss the "aggressive tooth brushing" (as its written in the script). we have her image FOUR TIMES in this. this scene doesn't read as someone who is only annoyed bc her bf is bad in bed. this screams disassociation and knowing what is expected of you.

the necklace touch!! the way jackie associates this pendant w shauna comes up so much. shauna has been embedded in this scene throughout. jackie clearly hated hooking up w jeff and she looks in the mirror and touches her necklace after with This face

think about how jackie reacted to jeff. how she looks at him, the faces she makes when he leaves, her general energy. now in contrast we’re gonna see how she reacts to shauna (both shauna and jackie jump from disdain when seeing jeff to giddy little idiots when seeing each other) see also: YOUR KISSES ARE WICKED

this is FLIRTING the little faces she makes and her reachy little arm and her giggling? this is jackie flirting. we see her do this w jeff *in public* when its performative, but she's actively choosing to flirt with shauna right now like if you don't see that idk what to tell you

do not get me started about the music but this caption is killing me (see also: FLIRTY EXPRESSION)

the language she uses discussing deciding to sleep with jeff. "i've decided its time" and my ultimate favorite "its more poetic that way." thinking of sex w men as a task and fictionalizing it?? removing herself from the act itself?? lesbianism!! AND directly after the sleeping with jeff convo, jackie jumps into their dorm colors (PINK AND GREEN i could do a whole side tangent about hyperfemininity as a signal of lesbianism but i digress) and her tone is way more excited and invested than the one she used for sleeping with her bf

in conclusion, that’s my little lesbian

[st-el-la-luna]

It's Not Enough: Captain John Price x Reader

(sorry for vanishing I am mentally unwell)

An injury leaves the Task Force's Captain unable to do all that he usually does. You're more than happy to help.

NSFW 18+

➔ gn!reader ("you"/"your" pronouns, described as "pretty" once), Price is readers boss, pillow fucking, desperate almost subby Price

unedited, written on mobile in Spanish class

It wasn't fair to say that the mission went south. It's not like the Task Force failed it or anything. You guys secured the intel you needed and cleared the base no problem.

Except there was a problem. Your intel on the enemy operation had been spotty and it turns out the enemy was more prepared than you all had been lead to thought.

Sitting silently in the back of the truck you all quietly lick your wounds. Soap had been stabbed, "'tis just a scratch," he had announced before taking out three men with an improved explosive. (Ghost hit him for that one) (the Shakespeare reference. Not the bomb). Gaz and Ghost both were shot, the former in the knee and the latter, grazed on the neck by a bullet that very well could have killed him. You got a little too close to a grenade and now your ears are ringing and you're covered cuts and scrapes from the shrapnel, bits of metal still embedded in your skin.

Price got it the worst though. One of the enemy soldiers managed to sneak up on him. This hulking, unit of a man who made Ghost, Ghost, look like a gangly teen.

You always wondered how Ghost, being as big as he is, could move so quietly so quickly. This enemy soldier made you think that maybe you were just loud and slow.

Not a single person realized that the soldier was there until it was too late. He tackled Price, knocking the gun from his hands then threw him, literally threw him, like a doll, over the catwalk ledge.

Price was lucky though, in a sense, because he crashed to the ground close enough to you and Gaz that you could provide him cover.

He was unlucky, or maybe just stupid, because he tried to catch his fall. His fall from three stories up.

With his hands.

Never have you heard bones snap so loud.

You glance across the truck at him. He's breathing slowly and deliberately, self-soothing. His hands resting on his thighs, fingers twitching occasionally, but otherwise motionless.

"Hey, look on the bright side, Captain," you say with a crooked grin, blinking away the blood dripping from a gash above your eye. "At least you won't have to do any paperwork for a while."

"Won't be able to jack off either," Soap adds with a crow of laughter. "Poor lil John's gonnae be black and blue... Won't even be able to feel the pain in yer hands over the straining of your–"

"That'll do!" Ghost snaps, ever the one to keep Soap in line.

It's quiet for the rest of the way back to base. It's quiet as you all head to medical for treatment. You're all drained, happy with a job well done, but exhausted from, well, everything.

Tired and sore, you decide to forgo dinner in order to catch some extra sleep. You're walking through the halls when you pass by Price's office.

The door is cracked open, which is unusual, and a rhythmic sound tumbles out into the hallway. A blend between panting and grunting.

He groans out a frustrated, "Fucking... Ah... Fucking hell!"

"Captain?" You ask hesitantly, knocking on the door. You hear shuffling inside, the rustling of cloth, soft jingle of metal. "I, uh... Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," he grits out, breathless and frustrated. "I'm just..." More rustling. "Fuck!"

"Can I come in?" You ask, already opening the door.

He doesn't say no. In fact, he doesn't say anything. Until you've got the door open and are left staring at the scene before you.

"I didn't want anyone seeing me like this..." He grumbles.

He's standing behind his desk, both hands and forearms in casts. He's struggling with a zip up hoodie, tangled in the fabric as he tries to put it on.

You fight back the urge to laugh and succeed. You fight back the urge to smile and fail. "Want some help with that, Captain?"

"Please."

This continues for the duration of his injury, him coming to you for help with tasks he can't do himself. For as long as he's in those casts, you're at his beck and call.

It's not uncommon for you to be called away from some mundane task to help the Captain with something equally mundane. But hey, at least you get to spend time with your Captain.

Your handsome, rugged, often flushed as of late, Captain.

You're captain whose casts you've wrapped before he can shower. Whose shirts you've helped put on. Whose hair you've brushed. Beard you've combed. Whose-

You keep having to tell yourself that this doesn't mean anything. The only reason he comes to you and no one else is because, well, he doesn't want anyone else seeing him like this.

So what if he blushes when you help secure his belt around his hips? Or when your fingers graze his neck as you button his collar. So what if once or twice while youve helped him dress your hand has brushed his cock (and oh, it's big), and it's jumped to attention. It's a natural reaction, really. Price never even mentions it. He's probably embarrassed. Ashamed. Nothing more to it.

But what if...?

No. You tell yourself sternly. Bad. That's your boss.

But...

He has been calling on you more. Has been standing closer. Leaning in when you speak. Burying his nose into your hair before you leave his room and inhaling through his nose, then shutting the door on you, leaving you a little dazed and more than a little confused in the hall.

Still. It doesn't mean anything. You've just never spent this much time with him. Maybe this is normal.

You're in the armory with Soap and Gaz when your phone goes off in your pocket. Price is calling.

"Captain?" You ask, holding the phone between your shoulder and ear as you continue to clean your rifle. "Everything okay?"

"I know I told you I wouldn't need anything until later, but I... I need your help," he says, his voice gruff and rumbling. "Now."

Soap mimes a blow job and Gaz snickers, shouldering him playfully.

"Could have called anyone, Captain," Soap calls out loud enough for Price to hear through the phone. "What is it you need help with that only our pretty little Corporal can do? Hmm?"

"Shut up, Soap," Price grumbles.

"Captain says to shut up, Johnny," you relay to Soap. He laughs.

"I need your help," Price repeats, his breath stuttering slightly.

"Alright," you say, setting the rifle down. "What with?"

"I'm..." his words are cut off by a groan and the sound of shuffling, followed by something clattering to the floor. "Fuck... I'm trying to..." He pauses, breathing heavy. "Tryna trim my beard and I.. Just get over here quick."

"Aye, sir. I'll be in your office soon."

"Not my office. My quarters."

You pause, holding the phone properly now. "I... Your quarters, Captain?"

Soap snickers, and thrusts his hips into the air a couple times. You flip him off.

"Yes," he says. "It's where I keep my products."

"Right, of course," you shake your head. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Good," he says, letting out a breathy sound through his nose. "I can't deal with this any longer..."

"Your beard has gotten scruffy," you muse.

"I... Just... Hurry." He hangs up.

"Getting out of work early again, huh?" Gaz asks with a grin. "Or should I say getting off work early?"

"Not you too," you whine, flipping the pair of them off as you leave the room.

You don't catch what Soap says, his words muffled by his accent and the closing door. Judging by the raucous laughter that breaks out when he's done, you figure that might be for the best.

You get to Price's room and knock, waiting a beat before turning the knob. "Hey, Captain, just a heads up, I've never actually trimmed a beard before but I–"

You stare at the scene before you with wide eyes, blood rushes to your cheeks as your jaw drops.

"Close the door," Price grunts, staring up at you from his place on the bed. On his knees, forearms braced against the mattress, his face red, jaw slack as he lets out rhythmic pants and groans.

You don't dwell on it. Instead, your attention is drawn to the clumsy, desperate movement of his hips as he ruts desperately against his pillow. His pillow which is covered in... Is that one of your workout shirts?

"I... Captain?!" You squeak in surprise, taking a slight step back.

"Soap was right," he grumbles, humping and grinding and moaning into the pillow. Into your shirt. Your shirt. This is happening. This is real. Price inhales deeply through his nose, his tongue lolling out. "Haven't... Haven't been able to... It's... I... It hurts, i... I thought this would... it worked before but i... It's not... not enough, I.. Help... Please."

Slowly, hesitantly, you shut and lock the door behind you. "Oh, so you've done this before?" You quirk a brow as you approach his bed. "Fucked into your pillow like a desperate whore thinking it was me?"

He whines, actually whines, and his hips falter for a second before speeding up. With each forward stroke of his hips you can catch a glimpse of his cock. Thick and red and painfully hard, dripping so much precum it looks like he's already cum before you got here. "Don't... Don't tease me, Corporal... Don't forget who's in charge here."

"Seems to me, Captain, that I'm the one in charge here," you hum, slowly kneeling on the bed. He looks up at you through his sweaty fringe, his breaths hot and wet when they fan against your skin. "I mean, you're the one who needs help, after all... You're the one whose job could be on the line... I doubt the higher ups would be thrilled to find you like this, all backed up and desperate for one of your soldiers?"

His eyelids flutter, he bites his lips muffling a growl that crescendos into a moan when you cradle his face. "Stop, I... I just... It hurts..."

"I'm sure it does," you hum sympathetically, running a hand through his hair. "Been too long, hasn't it?"

He keens and leans into your touch, drool dribbles from his lips. "I... Weeks, may, ah, maybe a month... Or longer... I-I need it... Please."

"Well, that just won't do," you tut, shaking your head in mock sympathy. You tighten your grip on his hair and he bows, arching his back like it's his job. "Just look at you, Captain..."

Please reblog to support my writing!

He whines and you shush him gently, hand sliding from his hair to cup his jaw and chin, forcing him to look up at you. "Don't worry, Captain... I plan to do a lot more than just stare..."

Masterlist

[saprophilous]

just letting you know that that ask you rb'd about glaze being a scam seems to be false/dubious. I think they're just misinterpreting "not as useful as we had hoped" and interpreted it maliciously, based on the replies?

not positive but yeah!

Ah yeah, I see people fairly expressing that being “debunked” as in, not a scam; I wasn’t personally particularly aligned to whether or not its “dubious origins” are true or not… so sorry about that.

From what I’ve read, I was more focused upon the consensus that it doesn’t work, and therefore isn’t worth the effort. So having a positive takeaway on glaze outside of its “scam or not status”, as potentially saving us from ai learning doesn’t seem useful to pass around.

Correct me if there’s better information out there but this from an old Reddit post a year back is why I didn’t continue looking into it as it made sense to my layman’s brain:

“lets briefly go over the idea behind GLAZE

computer vision doesn't work the same way as in the brain. They way we do this in computer vision is that we hook a bunch of matrix multiplications together to transform the input into some kind of output (very simplified). One of the consequences of this approach is that small changes over the entire input image can lead to large changes to the output.

It's this effect that GLAZE aims to use as an attack vector / defense mechanism. More specifically, GLAZE sets some kind of budget on how much it is allowed to change the input, and within that budget it then tries to find a change such that the embeddings created by the VAE that sits in front of the diffusion model look like embeddings of an image that come from a different style.

Okay, but how do we know what to change to make it look like a different style? for that they take the original image and use the img2img capabilities of SD itself to transform that image into something of another style. then we can compare the embeddings of both versions and try and alter the original image such that it's embeddings start looking like that of the style transferred version.

So what's wrong with it?

In order for GLAZE to be successful the perturbation it finds (the funny looking swirly pattern) has to be reasonably resistant against transformations. What the authors of GLAZE have tested against is jpeg compression, and adding Gaussian noise, and they found that jpeg compression was largely ineffective and adding Gaussian noise would degrade the artwork quicker than it would degrade the transfer effect of GLAZE. But that's a very limited set of attacks you can test against. It is not scale invariant, something that people making lora's usually do. e.g. they don't train on the 4K version of the image, at most on something that's around 720x720 or something. As per authors admission it might also not be crop invariant. There also seem to be denoising approaches that sufficiently destroy the pattern (the 16 lines of code).

As you've already noticed, GLAZING something can results in rather noticeable swirly patterns. This pattern becomes especially visible when you look at works that consist of a lot of flat shading or smooth gradients. This is not just a problem for the artist/viewer, this is also a fundamental problem for glaze. How the original image is supposed to look like is rather obvious in these cases, so you can fairly aggressively denoise without much loss of quality (might even end up looking better without all the patterns).

Some additional problems that GLAZE might run into: it very specifically targets the original VAE that comes with SD. The authors claim that their approach transfers well enough between some of the different VAEs you can find out in the wild, and that at least they were unsuccessful in training a good VAE that could resist their attack. But their reporting on these findings isn't very rigorous and lacks quite a bit of detail.

will it get better with updates?

Some artists belief that this is essentially a cat and mouse game and that GLAZE will simply need updates to make it better. This is a very optimistic and uninformed opinion made by people that lack the knowledge to make such claims. Some of the shortcomings outlined above aren't due to implementation details, but are much more intimately related with the techniques/math used to achieve these results. Even if this indeed was a cat and mouse game, you'll run into the issue that the artist is always the one that has to make the first move, and the adversary can save past attempt of the artists now broken work.

GLAZE is an interesting academic paper, but it's not going to be a part of the solution artists are looking for.”

[source]

[crustaceousfaggot]

So... Idk maybe this was obvious to everyone and there's no point in me bringing it up. But can we talk about Ballister's armor?

The plate that the knights wear is standardized. It's their uniform. All the knights we see in the film are wearing the same armor and use the same swords. They're standard issue. With a couple exceptions.

Ambrosius gets much flashier armor, with the obvious gold and white colour scheme and the lion (?) design on his chest plate. He also has large lions on the sides of his pauldrons with embedded sapphire eyes, which - wow, talk about ostentatious. This is presumably because of his connections to Gloreth - his blood is special enough that he gets an entirely different and considerably flashier set of armor. Is it a family heirloom? Was it commissioned specifically for him? We'll never know. But the Institute designated this little boy Special enough to be exempt from the dress code in order to demonstrate his status as the Specialist Boy.

Todd gets a slightly altered version of the uniform, with black bottoms instead of grey, and larger pauldrons. If we assume Ambrosius gets fancy armour because of his family connections, then that seems to imply Todd also has some ancestry notable enough to set him aside slightly from the rest of the knights. Not anywhere near as famed as Gloreth of course, but maybe a notable general or war hero or something along those lines. That would explain some of the ego. Whatever.

Both of them seem to still be using the standardized swords though.

And then there's Ballister. With his black armor.

In the book I just sort of assumed he chose that armor in order to compliment the whole aesthetic he's got going on. But in the movie that is explicitly not true. They gave him that armor, to signify in the most literal and inconspicuous way possible that he is the black sheep. He does not belong and he never will, no matter how hard he tries, because the Institute will make sure everyone who sees him immediately recognizes him as other. Street trash who has been graciously permitted into their ranks, but will never be allowed to wear the untainted, pure colours of their order, the divine white and gold. It was decided for him, before he even became a knight, that no matter what he did he would never escape that shadow. That he was let in, not born in. Allowed to exist. Always on their terms.

He doesn't even get to use their swords. He gets a black sword to match his armor, one which (by the looks of it) is significantly lower-tech than the standard issue swords, at least until it was tampered with.

The Queen could have stopped this, but she didn't, which indicates to me more than ever that, to her, Ballister was first and foremost a token. A gesture meant to inspire loyalty and goodwill from her subjects, to prove that she was willing to change. Slowly. And only so long as people remembered who really had the power. Am I saying she was evil or whatever? No. We haven't seen enough of her as a ruler to make those kinds of judgements. But to me she represents a very milquetoast, left-of-center, "Equal-rights-for-everyone-so-long-as-it-doesn't-negatively-affect-me-or-my-standing-in-any-way" kind of leader.

There was no way he could have ever been one of them. Never. And they made sure knew it.

[hopeluna-archived]

🥺👉🏻👈🏻 If you’re still taking drabble requests, I would love to see your spin on something for Barbatos or Asmo.

I’m completely normal about them, I swear.

I deeply apologise for what i'm about to do jes <33

Drabble ask game

"If i'm more pretty, do you think they'll like me?"

The silence that followed gets broken by Asmo's laugh. He mutters a small "idiot", shaking his head, chuckling at the mirror in front of him.

Well, the half broken mirror. Most of the broken shards and pieces were on the floor anyway, few embedded on his knuckles.

Looking around the room, Asmo sighed tiredly. Pillows strewn around on the floor, torn pillows ; his pristine silk bedsheets all crumpled up on the floor too. His beauty and skin care products were more or less useless now, most of them had their products dumped in the sink, some in the trash. He supposed, in a ironic way, it was a beautiful mess.

Lucifer was definitely not going to be pleased and so, albeit reluctantly, Asmo got up to first clean his hands. A little magic would cover and heal it up.

This was the fourth-no fifth "breakdown" he has had in a week. Not his proudest moment. Its all your fault really, or at least that's what he tries to tell himself.

Asmo knew he was pretty. He is pretty. Its a fact. But then again, beauty is subjective, isn't it?

So, maybe he wasn't pretty to you. He has tried to change to your preferences though. He's wore perfumes you'd like, clothes that you find attractive, colours that you love. He doesn't understand why it's not working, he's tried everything.

Asmo knows this is pathetic but what can he do? His looks, as he's been told, are all he's got. So if you don't like his looks, you're never gonna want to speak to a ugly Asmo!

The next morning comes and he's there for breakfast as usual, joking and talking with his brothers as if he did not want to peel his skin off last night.

"You know- I have to say, I think blue looks really attractive on some people!-" his ears perk up as he glances at your direction as you talk animatedly with a hardly-listening Beel munching on his and your food.

I could use some blue in my wardrobe. Asmo continues eating as he makes a mental note to go shopping later.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[ghoulysaphomet]

Link woke with a start to the ear squelching sound of metal grinding against metal. Not noticing the unknown cloth adorning his shoulders, he sits up, trying to force the residual sleepiness from his eyes.

It's early, possibly around sunrise. The sky is still speckled with barely there stars and awash with hues of oranges, reds and pinks crowning the sun. The maze's walls stand as tall as the first time he'd gazed upon them with moss crawling up the tiles in lazy exploration. The sounds of battle grates on his ears as well as his nerves. He looks, startled at the visage he finds.

The other Link (something is missing, didn't he wear a cloak?) Is brandishing an unknown sword he hadn't been carrying the day before against a tall moblin-esque creature unlike anything he'd ever seen. The monster is at least a few heads taller than the other Link, menacing even without a weapon. It snarls in threat; but other Link answers in kind, showing his teeth before pouncing. His form is so unlike his own, which stems from formal training and experience. This Link's form is more like a bunch of different people's experiences mashed together; an amalgamation of styles. Ruthless in nature but graceful in dodging; it resembles a predator playing with its prey. Link is mesmerised.

Until the other Link's sword breaks, flinging tiny shards into his hands and the ground beneath them. Link grabs his own sword, words of warning on the tip of his tongue as he watches the moblin swipe with sharp claws out at the other man. He barely gets his knees under him before other Link backflips, landing on all fours and pounces with an animalistic snarl. A loud squelch, wet and ragged, echoed by similarly sounding screams, cries loose from the monster. The other Link's blunt teeth and nails are embedded in its harsh black skin, his hair coming undone by the ferocity of his onslaught. The monster pitifully attempts to pust him off but gains a broken wrist as a result. Link can see the way other Link's jaw is straining with effort, the goal not being hitting an artery as much as crushing the trachea maybe. A sick wet crunch echoes around the area before the monster dissolves into black smoke. All Link can hear is the harsh breaths of the other Link as well as his own loud heartbeat.

Finally, it seems the other Link notices him looking. His face has a blood-beard, thick red liquid dripping from his jaw. Hair wild, the ends of his bangs stained crimson. His blue eyes blink before stalking closer to where Link is squatting. A hand reaches out, caressing his chin before landing on his forehead.

"Are.. you okay?" His teeth are stained red, warm breath hits his face. His heart thumbs away in his chest. Suddenly, his lips are dry.

"U-uh. Uhm yeah. Yeah I'm okay - I should be the one to ask you that! Are.. are you okay?" The hand is still holding his jaw, warm and soft. Link doesn't want him to let go for some reason. Unconsciously, he leans into it.

"Your face is red. Do you have a fever?" The other Link asks, pushing some of Link's hair behind his ear. He swallows.

"No. No. Im fine. Peachy."

The other Link frowns, clearly not believing him. He removes his hand and Link resists the urge to chase the warmth.

A piece of moblin flesh is dangling from other Links hair. He tentatively reaches out, aware of other Link's eyes on him like burning candles, and plucks it from his hair. There's something in the air around them. He can't bring himself to look away from other Link's mesmerising eyes; There's small becks of turquoise in his sea-deep eyes.

He knows he's being studied, that he should take back his hand. Instead, he lets it linger.

"..Sky" other Link says.

"..what?"

Other Link's cheeks reddens as he looks away. He clears his throat, licking his lips, seemingly unbothered by the blood.

"Your, ah, your nickname.. it'll be confusing with two Link's here.. and uh.. your.. your eyes. They remind me of the sky" he finishes, face getting redder and redder by the second. Link, or rather, Sky, feels a soft smile coming on.

"Hm.. then you'll.. you'll be Wild!" Because of the finesse and beauty the other man possesses, but the unlimited danger for everyone not knowing where to tread. His eyes like the wild ocean that's courageous, tempestuous, and a hurricane all in one.

Wild cocks his head. Reminiscent of an animal confused. It's cute.

"Why Wild..?" He asks, but doesn't refuse the name.

Sky blushes. "Ah, you know.. we're in the wild.." he knows it sounds weak to even his own ears, but Wild just nods as if reasonable.

"Well.." Wild starts before smiling. His teeth are pink, and the blood on his face has started to crust over and crackle.

"Nice to meet you, Sky." He says, shyly.

It's the most beautiful picture Sky has ever seen.

A short fan-drabble featuring Wild and Sky from @linked-maze by @frulleboi !

Quick Wild doodle to go along with it! 🫀✨️

[l1tw1ck]

"Steve"

bottom!ftm Steve Rogers (x top!masc!perv reader)

AFAB Language Used

I started watching the marvel movies and I've had this intense need to fuck Steve so have this before i disappear again (im trying to finish a peter parker req but i forgot how to write sex ..) (i'll be back w at least bi-weekly updates soon........probably.......)

CW: Recording, Masturbation, Squirting, Nipple Play

Steve shuffles through the box of sex toys you bought him and chooses the least threatening one. You gave him the box and asked him to record himself using each one over the course of a few months. Since it was a request from you, he agreed to do it. He wasn't expecting you to be such a pervert but he likes making you happy and he feels weirdly aroused by it.

After setting up his phone, he spreads his legs and holds the vibrator in his hand. He’s not exactly sure how to use one but he’ll try to figure it out on his own. You always rub his clit when you touch him so maybe if he puts the vibrator there, it’ll feel good? He turns it on and gasps. It feels amazing. He raises the setting by one and rolls his head back, moaning softly. “Ah-” He has a dreamy look on his face. “[Name]...it feels- so good-” He breathes out. “I think I’m gonna come-” He tries to look at the camera as he gets closer to his peak. The look on his face is going to be embedded into your mind for years. “Yes- yes-” His legs shake as he squirts. He lets the vibrator go on for a few more seconds until he can't take it anymore and stops. He takes some time to catch his breath. “I- I hope you liked it..” He says before stopping the recording. He sends it to you and gets ready to take a shower.

For this recording, you requested for Steve to play with his nipples while riding a dildo.

He sinks down onto the plastic, face twisting in pleasure. He brings his hands to his nipples and pinches them. “Mmh-” He moans, twisting them as he slowly lifts himself up and down. The toy feels good, mostly because of the fake veins, but it's nothing compared to you. Your cock is so much bigger and thicker. “It's- it's not as good as you, [Name]..” He says, picking up the pace. “It's cold and…and it can't…” He trails off, distracted by touching his nipples. “Mmm…it can't give me…give me your cum..” He doesn't realize how his words will affect you. He's going to need lots of aftercare afterwards.

He pulls on his nipples and focuses more on them than the dildo, his bounces become slow and lazy since he feels more pleasure from his chest. “I’m close..” He mumbles, his breathing becoming more ragged as he reaches his peak. “It’d feel so much better if you were here..” He says before everything comes to a stop, relaxing his body after he comes.

“Maybe we can recreate this when I see you.” He smiles, stopping the recording.

[dawndelion-winery]

Lorem Ipsum

Highschool au Ft. Arlecchino, Pantalone, Dottore

Arlecchino:

Has probably threatened everyone in class at least once, the teachers included

As you can probably guess, she doesn't have a lot of friends

But you sit next to her, so you figured you might as well try to get along with her

But then it seemed she misunderstood and assumed you were flirting with her

She starts treating you to lunch after that, to the point you're always seated with her throughout the school day

Now apart from death glaring anyone who irks her, she does the same to anyone who seems to bother you

She doesn't talk much to you, but she did tell you to blabber on if it made you happy

You figured it'd be alright to keep talking until she tells you to shut up because she wasn't the type to tolerate things she didn't like

The again you never thought she actually listened since she always looked so listless

Yet whenever you offhandedly mention someone giving you a hard time, you find them surprisingly cooperative the next time you discuss things with them

She always did seem a little happier when you told her the issue has been resolved

"Didn't I tell you? The situation will resolve itself once you distance yourself from these problems, just stick with me instead."

Pantalone:

Class treasurer, somewhat of a prick

But he does his job flawlessly, so no one can really complain

Except when he rejects their proposals for whatever class ventures they have in mind for "being too wasteful"

With that in mind, he's never gotten anything short of a perfect score for maths, ever precise in his calculations and analysis

He's the type of asshole to breeze through calculus and scoff at those who can't

He makes an amazing tutor though

With calculation embedded in his nature, he knows when to praise and criticise you, pulling at your strings to keep you motivated - even if your motivation is just to be praised by him

"Yes, good work, look at how much faster you got this one, you'll keep up the effort, yes?"

And you can't really say no to him when he faces you with that close-eyed smile and pats your head

It doesn't matter if you haven't gotten past the first part of the question for the past five minutes, you badgered him to tutor you first and he will get it through your head whether you like it or not

"You're not giving up already, are you? ...to think I had such high hopes for you..."

He says it like he's truly disappointed and sighs, resting his chin in one hand as his fingers tap his cheek like he's deep in thought

And of course, you being a simp caved hard and fast, hastily agreeing to give it another shot

"That's my diligent student," he says as he pats your head again, and you should be more concerned about how quickly his tune changed but frankly, he doesn't give you much time to ponder as he shoos you back to work

Dottore:

Terrible classmate, amazing seatmate

Pretty much an asshole to the class, but as his seatmate you're practically guaranteed to ace any science subjects you have

Taking notes too slowly and can't keep up with class?

"Write faster, fool," he says as he effortlessly scribbles down all the key concepts, seemingly irritated by the fact that you can't keep up.

Big mistake because now you're even more distracted by the way his long, slender fingers move so deftly with his pen

If he noticed you staring he didn't say anything, but you swore you saw the corner of his lips tug upwards in a smirk

You know you're in trouble when the bell rings and you realised you've missed nearly everything

Yet, for some unknown reason, it would seemed he felt a shred of kindness towards you, sliding the notes he so boredly scrawled over to you before packing up his things and leaving for the next class

His notes are like a cheat sheet to your entire syllabus

Which leads to you often praising how smart he is, to which he scoffs and tells you flattery won't convince him to keep helping you keep up with class

That's a lie, it does

It also convinces him to tutor you

Not the best idea when you're more likely to study him than you're work, though he usually remedies that by grabbing your jaw to turn your attention back to your papers

His face comes dangerously close to yours when he explains things to you as you write, normally with him standing behind you and hunching over you with his face next to yours

His furrowed brows and keen eyes scanning your work to criticise your mistakes were quite the sight to behold - his side profile is vv pretty

And rest assured, you will understand whatever he teaches you, however much it takes

If he has to repeat and paraphrase himself, so be it, as long as your attention was on him and you kept looking at him like he was a godsend

Honestly, he just enjoys the attention and fawning, it feeds his ego sm

"I suppose I can't expect you to understand things as quickly as I do. Ah well, no matter, consider yourself fortunate you have someone as brilliant as I to help you."

Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @euphoric-author @paradise-creator @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @serenenation @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @howlantic @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro

Obligatory @cxlrosii

[milkycarnations]

Hello Hello! Not too sure if asks are open but worth a shot righttt?

Can I request a Masky x Reader NSFW write? Like not HC but the full one (thought i'd specify)

I know requests with no plot/plan probs aren't your favourite so my bad, feel free to use any idea you have ^-^

~ lots of love - poison anon

I just love pervert masky plus sex worker reader.

____________________________________________________________

Blood Money | Masky x afab!Reader | 913 Words

one-shot masterlist | mdni | cw: prostitution, public sex, fear play, risky sex, no protection, exhibitionism, abusive relationship, hybristophilia, mentions of threesome/group sex, humiliation

The sultry August air lingered long after sundown, covering the city in a summer musk. In the dead middle of Downtown - somewhere on 12th Street, beside the self-acclaimed "World's Greatest Coffee Shop" and nearly 400 feet in the air- it smelled like warmth, rain, and sex. Good sex. The expensive kind. At least, as expensive as you'd expect from a dangerous man with nothing to lose. For a man so secretive, he talked a lot. Some men do, but most are more concerned with getting a quick fuck rather than going to therapy. He liked to complain while fucking you. He liked to get angry in a way that made you ache and long for him.

You were well aware that he was involved in some... criminal behaviors. You would describe it as a gang, but this was something much more. Something more organized, more white-collar, and less of a typical street dispute. He had hits, target profiles, and an entire organization behind this operation. Whatever it was, he was the kind of guy the girls would warn you about. Fucking some middle-aged husband who hates his kids and wife is one thing. Drugs getting involved is another. Murder? You'd be in leagues of trouble if you were caught with him, but the danger kept bringing you back. It was hard to stay away when he always dicked you down so good.

Body pushed against the balcony railing, dress pulled up over the curves of your hips, he continued to pump his cock into your cunt. Each thrust had you gripping the fence, knuckles whitening in delicious fear. The entirety of your well-being was dependent on how well the railing was attached. If it weren't, you'd soon be plummeting to the asphalt of 12th Street below.

"Fuck yeah," he groaned, leaning in to mumble into your ear, "I missed this tight pussy."

You whimpered into the back of your hand, looking down at cars and taxi cabs below. It wasn't bustling with commuters, but as they say - the city never sleeps.

"I know you missed my cock too, huh? Why else do you keep letting me come back after all I've told you. Unless you're scared of me?" he asked.

You shook your head. Scared? Only in the best of ways. The raw dominance embedded in his demeanor was enough alone to make you cry while cumming all over him.

"C'mon, use your words for me, baby."

Your pussy ached, seemingly missing his dirty talk, too.

"I like being scared of you."

"Yeah? You like scary men taking advantage of you? You find it hot? Just keeps you up at night, doesn't it? Fucking men you don't know. Men who've done vile, depraved things."

His voice was raspy in your ear and sent shivers crawling down your spine. You knew it was wrong, but you agreed with all of those things. The blind horniness he gave you made you want to do a multitude of things for him.

"If you're up for it I've got a couple of colleagues who'd be more than willing to share."

"Fuck, really?" you whined, pussy starting to flutter.

From behind you, he laughed at your eagerness. For a moment you thought about how much you'd charge, but him ramming into you was too distracting, each thrust tapping deep into you and turning you stupid.

"If you keep talking like that, I'll have to keep you,"

Keep you. You also imagined what that was like - living with him and all his slimy friends. Or maybe he had his own place, but from what he's told you he seemed to be in close contact with these guys the majority of the time. Even the ones he'd rather not keep in his company.

"Wouldn't that be the dream," he spoke, as if reading your thoughts.

"I wouldn't have to go through so much effort to find you, just have to make it home and I have a victory meal just waiting for me. A pet that's obedient to me."

His cock was already making you feel fuzzy and you hadn't even started that long ago. You slumped further against the railing, holding onto it like a lifeline. You could feel your slick dripping to the ground between your legs. You were getting close. Hands gripped your hips harder. He spoke your name.

"I'm gonna cum inside your cunt now. You ready for it?"

"Yes, yes, please!"

You were trying to hold your orgasm back but in your excitement, you couldn't stop yourself from cumming around his dick, pulsing around him as you slammed your hips against his.

"Fuck, that's exactly what I like, keep cumming around me like a good girl."

Groaning loudly, not a care in the world, he rode out his orgasm as he emptied himself inside you. Your legs had grown sore and faltered as he let go of you.

"Shit, that's good."

From behind you heard him clean himself up and tuck himself back into his shorts. All too suddenly, you felt him flip your dress down to cover you.

"Keep me in you just a little bit longer, doll. I want you to be reminded of my offer. Before you forget."

His offer. You weren't going to forget and you never will. Slowly, you straightened yourself up and turned to face him. Already he had set for the door, walking to leave you to your work.

"See ya next week?" he asked.

"Bring a friend."

[chumpovodir]

i don't have it in me at the moment to make a long, detailed rant about this but r/castlevania's insistence that games!Isaac is a lesser character for being a "self-harm obsessed, shallow BDSM playboy that only serves as an inciting incident" compared to N!Isaac?

first of all, i think y'all are letting anime stereotypes from the early 2000s massively color your opinion and it's really obvious you didn't bother looking at his character any deeper than that. edit: i'm putting this under a cut because it was actually, in hindsight, a pretty long post lmao

"BDSM playboy"? my man was sitting in the ruins of his home for 3 goddamn years letting the clothes rot off his back, in no condition to care about his appearance and with precious little materials to forge something new. you could also argue that his skimpy look is a mark of his arrogance (already well-established by his fight with Hector previously, and feeling so cocksure he sends his Devil away and even arms Hector with a sword, confident he could easily take him in a fair fight), going into battle barely clothed as a show of faith in his own skill after playing Hector like a fiddle. or even as a radical show of his devotion, the Devil Forgemasters crest embedded in his skin for the world to see; the fact that the physical marks of his position may fade away, but it goes so much deeper than that - it's seared into his very flesh, and will only die when he and his corporeal form finally leave this earth. also, it just speaks to a really shallow understanding of BDSM in general to associate "skimpy strappy outfit = kinky"

"self-harm obsessed"? first of all, where is ANYONE getting this notion from the game itself?? (considering there's a very low chance these people even know about the mangas) there is literally no scene in-game where he self-harms - further proof people are grafting a grab bag of stereotyped character traits onto him when the canon doesn't support it. if this is about his tattoos, i consider this a bit of a reach, but then i don't regularly associate tattoos with masochism.

there is of course this one, singular panel from Prelude to Revenge where we see him slitting his wrists:

but the context here makes it clear: 1) he's doing this as a morbid way to mark the passage of time and 2) most likely in response to the sheer contrast between him and Hector's respective situations - how would you feel seeing the guy who was at least partially responsible for your predicament living a happy life, while you're forced to live in the abandoned ruins of your home, constantly surrounded by all that you've lost? this is an act being shown when he's at his very lowest.

and this is the only instance we actually see - there is no other official material that implies this is something he does on the regular, although it's a popular headcanon considering the general fandom consensus that he most likely had a very rough start to life.

shitting on him for being "merely an inciting incident"? i don't even know what to say to this - do you understand how characters and stories work...? the narrative lives and dies on the push and pull of characters taking actions and other characters responding!

but it sure is curious (read: hypocritical) that this is a negative in these people's eyes when you point out the similarities between Lisa's and Rosaly's deaths.

sure, there is a bigger story about the cruelty of humanity as a whole that Lisa was executed, unprompted while Rosaly's execution was deliberately manipulated by Isaac - but that also adds to Isaac's character, the fact that both he and his younger sister were persecuted for being bonafide magic practitioners, and the sheer hypocrisy of and underhandedness of knowing that pain firsthand, and choosing to inflict it on an innocent woman anyway. it really shows how much his morals, if he ever had any, has truly eroded to the point he only cares about causing maximum damage.

i don't even want to waste my words on the ways N!Isaac is a worse character, comparatively, if you actually take into account the themes of the Devil Forgemasters' respective stories as presented in the games. but it does chap my asshole that, from this angle, both N!Isaac and N!Hector end up for the worse since now their stories are completely decoupled and it ruins the symbolism and duality that their game counterparts had.

[supercorpkid]

Ace Reporter - Final Part

Supergirl, Kara Danvers x Reader, Lena Luthor x Reader

Word Count: 3940.

You roll in your hotel bed thinking about the cheap shot you threw at Kara earlier. You've hated Kara for the longest time, with the burning passion of a thousand suns. But only because it was a lot easier to blame your failure on someone else. And while you were many kilometers away from her, you got away with it pretty effortlessly.

That was until you met her.

And Kara was nothing you built her up to be. No vulture trying to steal the spotlight, no untalented lucky bastard, no nerd with no life. Kara is the opposite of every single flaw you embedded her character with.

And yet. You can't, for the life of you, admit the truth. Because if you did, if you finally took Kara out of the equation, you'd see that the reason why you didn't get the prize, and then the promotion, and the reason why your career got side-tracked is because you didn't try enough. You yield to your editors every wish. You let Lois Lane and Clark Kent go on every single assignment you were more than capable of doing. You never stood up for yourself.

So you think about Lena's offer while you march into CatCo the next morning, with no idea on whether you'll be walking through these doors everyday from now on, or never again. 

Kara is awkward and barely amicable when you get there. You want to apologize, but you don't do it. You hold your truth even though it is a lie. 

It would be a lot easier to write the article together if you two were at least talking to each other, instead of sending emails back and forth while she is at the desk next to yours. In fact, you only regret taking so long to write and review it, when the last person makes their way out of the office and you're left alone with Kara.

You sigh for the hundredth time. 

"I'm sorry, is this bothering you?" Kara smirks, making as much noise as she can on the chair. You narrow your eyes at her.

"The chair, or you in it?" You bicker. She raises her eyebrow, and you look at her waiting for the comeback, but it's cut off by your phone ringing next to you. "I have to take this. Here, wear my noise canceling headphones and keep out of my private conversation, Supergirl."

Kara sighs, picking it up from your hands and putting it on. She yells. "SAY SOMETHING SO I KNOW IT WORKS."

"Yeah, it works."

"HUH?" You roll your eyes at her. "HEY, THIS IS GOOD! IT ACTUALLY WORKS! CAN I BORROW IT SOMETIME?"

You breathe deep before picking up the phone, knowing you'll need all of your patience for this conversation with your editor. "Yes?"

"Where is my quote, Y/L/N?"

"I don't have it yet."

"What do you mean you don't have it yet?" He is clearly stressed, so you prepare yourself for the upcoming outburst. "You were in the plane with Lena Luthor and you went to fucking Kaznia," His voice raises up in a crescendo. "And you're telling me you don't have one fucking quote I can use in an article? I don't think you realize this is a job assignment! You're not in National City to make friends, you fucking moron." You open your mouth to argue, but he doesn't even give you time. "Had I known you were so fucking stupid I wouldn't have sent you! Clark told me you're good at finding people's secrets, well I think you're good at wasting company's money! Pack your things and get back here. You'll be lucky if I give you dog shows after this!"

He hangs off the phone and you look at it. Tears welling up on your eyes, and whisper. "I have something better.” 

Kara turns on the chair, and is met with your eyes full of tears. She ditches the headphone on the desk and basically runs towards you. “Hey, hey.”

“I’m fine!” You snap, cleaning your tears aggressively. 

“Y/N…” She tries with a sweet voice.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Danvers!” You clean your nose with your hand. Tears come back to your eyes immediately. “I don’t need your pity, I know prize-awardee-Kara is much better than me and-“

Your words are cut off by her arms quickly evolving you. Your head is trapped between her chest and her arms in an almost bone-hurting hug, and you hate how much you love this. "You're alright." She makes sure, then whispers almost to herself, "I've got you. I've got you."

You can't tell for sure, being face deep into Kara's chest, but you think you feel a kiss being planted on the crown of your head, with sweet reassuring words coming right after. And you cannot not cry. No matter how much you try to be strong, and unbothered, and better than Kara Danvers. Right now, inside her embrace, is the safest you've ever felt in a long time.

It's a while before you can finally whisper, “I’m alright.” 

Kara lets go of your head. There are no more tears wetting your face, because they’re all wetting her cardigan. Her stupid, comfortable, nice scented cardigan. You want to say something, apologize for this ridiculous and weak behavior, you want to beg her to forget this ever happened, instead you say nothing.

“Ok.” Kara says, a trying smile. “Food break!”

And proceeds to order from her favorite Chinese restaurant because you have to try her favorite potstickers in the world and not another word is commented on your cry for help. And soon you're both back to the old ways. Can't really describe it better because what are the old ways? Flirting? Laughs and banter? Working so well together it reminds you of Lois and Clark? Whatever it is, you're back at it.

“Hey.” Kara waves her hand in front of your face. “The article is amazing, there are no typos or grammatical errors. You’ve reviewed it enough. Let’s go celebrate!”

"Celebrate?" You make sure. "What are you celebrating? Lex is still on the loose, you and Clark will still have to deal with it."

"Yeah, but we finally finished the article!" Kara beams, excitedly, touching your arm. She doesn’t know that you actually don’t have a quote yet because you’ve been debating with yourself whether you’d like to move to National City or not.

"Oh, so we're celebrating that I'm leaving." It’s what you choose to go with.

"What? No! That's not - I didn't - No." She fumbles and you make a real effort not to let your feelings show. It's really hard to hold back the truthful smile you wish to give to her adorable confused face.

"Relax, Danvers. I know what you meant. You could never celebrate that I'm leaving when you're so in love with me." You joke with a smirk, but are you really just joking or is this another failed attempt to not flirt with her? 

Kara also laughs, even though it sounds pained and strangled on her chest. Not funny. Not funny at all. 

"You know I can just come and visit, right?" Kara says, a dorky smile filled with double meaning and secrets. You hold back your own dorky smile, but it's getting harder by the minute. 

"Is that a promise or a threat?" Kara looks at you fondly, a smile still playing on her lips, because she knows better now and so you roll your eyes. "Don't count your victory too soon, Danvers. Lena offered me a job at CatCo."

"She did? That’s so great!” She celebrates, eager to have you close. Then she thinks about it for a second, not sure what it means. “And, um, are you? I mean, staying?"

You breathe deep, looking outside the window. You could get used to this view. You could get used to doing some actual investigative journalism even if it means you getting punched in the face from time to time. You could get used to Kara’s dorky face even if you want to punch her most of the time. 

You look back at her, kind blue eyes filled with anticipation and clear adoration, “I don’t know, Danvers. There’s probably space for just one investigative reporter in this magazine. You know I don’t like sharing the byline.”

“God, Y/N. Is that the only thing you think about?” Kara steps closer, her hands shake a little when she reaches out. “Don’t you ever think about sharing something more than a byline with someone?”

“Like what?” You ask, but you know the answer. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes. It’s clear as day when you can cut the sexual tension with a knife. It’s screaming at you in bright light and you are making sure you close your eyes so you don’t see it. 

“Life, maybe?” Kara’s hands travel slowly from your arms past your shoulders and up your neck.

“Life?” You parrot. Mouth running awfully dry, eyes so glued to Kara’s, you can’t even blink. And you only realize you’ve been holding your breath for so long when your lungs beg for it. 

“Yeah.” Kara Danvers stops staring at your eyes and stares at your lips instead and you’re so close you can’t help but dare a look at hers as well. Soft, pink, kissable.

“But maybe we can start simpler.”

“Oh?” It’s a strangled sound coming out of your lips full with want, but lacking oxygen.

“Maybe-” Kara’s hands make way to the nape of your neck, fingers brushing your hair gently and then, suddenly, not gentle at all when she grabs it, almost demanding.

If you want this to stop you gotta say something now! This is your chance! Stop your lips from meeting your almost-nemesis lips right now! 

“Maybe we can share a kiss.”

Your eyes widen even though you saw it coming, but when Kara’s face comes closer, your eyes just close, unwillingly. Wanting, needing, ready for what’s coming next.

You don't stop her when her face comes closer; you don't stop her when you feel her shallow and anxious breath on your cheek; you don't stop her when her lips lightly brush on yours asking for permission; you don't even stop her when she takes a second to utter your name out of her lips so full of desire and passion.

"Y/N, Rao."

And your heart stops when she finally takes your lips into hers, and you can't even think about how you'll have to fight anyone who says it was you who deepened the kiss, even though it was indeed your lips and your tongue that made the first move.

You stop thinking of how this is the lips of your almost-nemesis. You fail to see how this might ruin your reputation. When Kara's tongue slides into your mouth, and her demanding hands tightens around the nape of your neck and your hips, your brain cannot function properly to see all that is wrong with this, and the only thing it wants is more.

More of Kara. More lips and kisses. More hands on hips. You don't think you can get any closer to her, but you want to be close, and then closer. 

The closer you can get without letting her know how much you're loving this. Even though you're pretty sure she can tell by how hot your entire body feels, like you're being set on fire by your desire. Even though she can feel you're running out of oxygen and yet you have not tried to separate your lips to catch some air. You're sure she can listen to your heart beating almost out of your chest and the tiniest moans out of your mouth. She probably feels your arms so strongly wrapped around her, pulling her fully into you. Yes, Kara probably can tell you're as turned on as she is right now when her leg slots right between yours.

And that is so close, but still not close enough. You want to be the closer you can get without letting Kara know how much you truly like her. 

Your brain finally catches up, when you think about how much you like her, instead of how much you dread her. 

"This was a bad idea." You get away from her so fast, she is left dumbfounded, breathless, red cheeks and mouth wet. It makes you want to go back and kiss her some more because she looks dazzling. Gorgeous. Perfect. 

Instead, you force yourself to turn your back at her, quickly grabbing all of your stuff and making your way out of the office. 

"What?" Kara is finally able to come out of her shock. 

"You and I, it's not, it's just not-"

"It's not what? Right? Gosh Y/N, will you stop with this 'I hate you' act and admit your true feelings?"

You bite your lower lip, looking at her from the elevator, when it dings, you just step inside. "Fuck off, Danvers. Not everyone loves you."

You make it out of CatCo, and dare a last look behind yourself. You hope you never have to cross these doors again in this lifetime, because if you do you don't think you'll be able to separate your lips from Kara's again.

Lena texts you as soon as you get to your hotel room. You ignore the text until after you pack your bags, but you can't ignore her forever. She invites you to have lunch with her at L Corp the next day, and you think it's a good opportunity to ask her for a quote before you go back to Metropolis. It is the least you can do, anyway.

“I’m glad you accepted my invitation.” Lena points to the balcony. “You told me you liked the view. So I thought we could eat outside.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t talking about that view.”

Lena gives you a knowing smirk. “I know, darling.”

You follow Lena to the balcony, fancy food displayed on the table, the prettiest view of National City. Nothing like the potstickers and beer from last night. And yet, it doesn't seem to catch your attention any more than the improvised dinner on Kara's tiny work desk.

“So, have you thought about my proposition?” You open your mouth to tell her the news. “Before you say anything, remember I’ll be your boss and I can give you lots of benefits. Not at work, but definitely somewhere else.”

Lena winks at you and oh God, what have you got yourself into?

“Y/N, I really want you to stay.”

Your heart drops on your chest and the words fall out of your mouth without you being able to give a second thought to them. “I have to go.” 

You get up from the table, making your way out of Lena’s office. Your escape is put to a stop by her hand, pulling you towards her. 

You bump into her, face-to-face, bodies so close you can feel her warmth, flesh with flesh. Lena is staring right at your lips.

“Don’t run from this.” She whispers, breath hot on your own mouth and then, just like that, her lips touch yours and oh my God, what’s happening? Lena separates her lips, taking yours into hers and you can’t. Just can’t.

“Stop. I-I can’t.” She blinks at you, confused. “It’s not you, it’s-“ Lena is one second away from rolling her eyes, expecting a ‘it’s me’ out of your mouth, but it never comes. “It’s Kara.”

“Kara?” Her shock is visible, undeniable. To be honest, yours is too.

“Kara kissed me.”

“Oh!” Lena steps back, out of your personal space.

“And I hate her, I do. And you’re also the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen-“

“But?”

“I think I’m in love with her. I think I’ve loved her the whole time.” 

You see Lena's surprised face, and you're surprised too. Probably even more so than she is. How could this happen? How could all of that hatred and annoyance have just turned into love? How is it possible that when you hear Kara's name you don't want to roll your eyes because she is irritating, but rather because she is not here next to you. Was this love all along? Were you blinded by your fury and didn't see the obvious? Ugh. Why does Kara Danvers make you feel so many things? And why are all of them confusing as hell?

"I'm sorry." You walk a bit farther away, back turned to Lena in clear embarrassment, because let's be honest, you have been leading her on. "I promise you I'm just as confused as you are. I really thought I hated her."

"Well," Lena's voice is back to normal, no more shock. "Love and hate is such a thin line." 

"I'll get out of your hair." You start walking towards the door, but Lena holds you by your shoulder.

"Y/N, I meant what I said about the job in CatCo." She rounds you, so she can look at your face. "You and me, it was never a condition for it to happen. You are way too talented and I'd be stupid to let you get away." You blink your eyes in confusion, and she nods at you slightly. "Please, take the job. I promise it won't be weird in any way. Kara is my best friend and I see the way she looks at you. And now that I know your feelings towards her, I'll be the biggest supporter, trust me. Just don't let that almost kiss stop you from making a life-changing decision."

She is right. Lena Luthor is so right. It's time for you to finally stop sabotaging yourself. It's time to try harder than you've ever done. It's time to be honest for the first time.

You can't wait any longer, you've waited too long to tell her. You hid it (not so well) from yourself and the world for longer than you should've, so you can't anymore. It has to be now so you run out of Lena’s office and into the park adjacent.

"SUPERGIRL!" You yell, and yell and yell her name a few times until Kara lands in front of you. "God, what took you so long?"

"Caught a little bit of air traffic." She says with a doofus smile and you can't, won't fight yours anymore. So you smile at her joke, the biggest one you've let people see in a while. "Do you have an emergency?"

"I do." But you can't do this while she is in her Supergirl attire, because even though they are the same person, Supergirl isn't the one you fell in love with. You fell for dweeb Kara Danvers way before you learned her secret. "I need to talk to Kara Danvers."

"What?" Kara asks, confused. Given she is right in front of you and you know that all too well.

"You don't get it, Supergirl. I need to talk to Kara Danvers right now or I'll die. It's a real emergency." 

Kara tilts her head looking at you, confused. You keep running from Kara Danvers and saying the most mean things you can think of, and now you’re in front of her saying you’ll die if you don’t talk to her. Takes her a while, but she finally picks you up and flies you to her apartment. She disappears into her bedroom and comes back a full minute later into your sight, with her real doofus clothes. 

You can't really explain what happened to you when you saw her. Come to think of it, you haven't been able to explain half of the things that happened on this trip to National City. But your heart did a weird loop, your breath got stuck on your lungs and fuck, you had to kiss her right there, right then.

You run towards her, jumping on her arms and she catches you in shock, but you're so fast to kiss her, she can't even overthink this whole thing. 

So you kiss her, and kiss her. Until there's no air left in your lungs, until you realize her dweeb face is your favorite thing in the world, until you both fall into her bed entangled in each other.

"What is happening?” She manages a whisper in between kisses, unable to stop herself from kissing you, even though she doesn't truly understand what's going on.

"You were right. God, you are always right. You're my favorite person in the universe even though I hate you sometimes." She has a dorky smile, the one you would normally want to slap it out of her face, but instead you just kiss her again and again. "I never knew I could feel all of these emotions for just one person. Never realized I could feel so safe inside the embrace of the biggest nerd I know." Kara can't contain her happiness and you can't stop but showering her face with kisses. "I hate to admit when I'm wrong, but I was. I was fighting this feeling because it scared me, how-how could I like someone so much already?”

Kara’s smile reaches her eyes, she literally lights up when you say that and while a few days back you’d want to bring her down, now you just want her to be the happiest she can be.

“But you, Kara Danvers, you really do make it easy for people to like you that fast, don’t you?”

Kara kisses you, softly. “I wouldn’t say you liked me that fast. I mean, you were basically insulting me daily for two full weeks.”

“You have a real dorky face.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, but you like it.”

“I really do.”

And you thought it would be the hardest thing for you to admit. But right now, inside Kara’s embrace with her face so close to yours, you realize it is a lot easier to tell her the truth then fighting it so incessantly like you have since you got here.

"Can't believe we went from enemies to lovers."

"You were never my enemy. You're way too cute for that." Kara raises her eyebrows ready for a comeback. "And only half evil, anyways."

"Oh, you're getting quicker with the comebacks." You smile when you see how excited Kara gets with the compliment. "I still wanna punch your dorky face sometimes."

"Why don't you punch it with your lips." Kara raises her eyebrows suggestively a few times, and you can't help it but to laugh at her dorkiness and then to do exactly what she said.

Epilogue:

"Kara?" You hear Nia's voice next to the door, your eyes widen, and so does Kara's.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing in the closet?" You hold back the laugh from the double meaning, and Kara rolls her eyes at you.

"Changing back." She finally opens the door, leaving you hidden there.

"Because of Supergirl or because you've been making out with your girlfriend in there?" Nia knocks on the door. "Come out, Y/N. No one here wants you guys back in the closet. Also, the new boss is here. The making out in the closet era is over."

"But this was the first time." You defend yourself, slowly coming out of there.

"Oh please. It was the first time today. I might not have x-ray vision, but I have eyes, you know." Nia says and you and Kara share embarrassed smiles. "Now look alive, Andrea Rojas is here and something tells me she's not gonna give us special treatment like Lena did."

[i-heart-hxh]

Do you think togashi Will sink killugon in the future by denying the romantic reading of their relationship?

Hi anon! I strongly don't think that'll ever happen. I truly believe including the romantic subtext between them is intentional on Togashi's part, and I want to be clear I'm not saying that just as a shipper, but as someone who has spent years deeply analyzing the series as a whole, as well as Togashi's influences and interests. The deeper I look into it, the more I'm certain he includes all the things he includes with full intention.

Again, I post this because everyone deserves to see it:

Togashi wanted to create works with queer characters before HxH even existed, and he was deeply invested in this concept! It's possible pieces of HxH even came out of this original idea he had--he did say he might publish it someday in "a different form," so it's not an impossibility.

I think likely one of two things will happen with Gon and Killua's relationship in the future of the manga:

Togashi will bring them back and reunite them, and we'll (at least eventually) get some sort of ending for them that may not be 100% undeniably canonically romantic, but likely continues with the same kind of romantic subtext and ambiguity that's been present all along. (Think something like: They decide to travel together again and promise to stay together without it actually saying if they mean it in a romantic way or not, but there might be hints or wording that imply it is intended in that way, with Togashi trusting those of us who see it that way will understand.) Or maybe we hit the jackpot and he does make it explicitly canon. I don't think that's super likely, but if anyone could get away with it, it would be Togashi, for a whole list of reasons I won't get into on this post.

Sadly he won't reach that point in the manga due to his health and how much of the series remains, but he won't say either way what he intends their relationship to mean, and we're free to continue to interpret it how we want.

There are other possibilities of course, but I think those are the most likely outcomes. I do think he fully intends to reunite Gon and Killua and I've written about this in-depth (whether the series actually reaches that point or not). I don't think he intends to "sink the ship" ever because he's the one giving us an uncountable number of reasons to believe in the ship in the first place... And I do think he's doing it out of his own personal interest, not just for marketing reasons or whatever like we see in some other shounen series. It's deeply embedded in the series and the number of things pointing in this direction is just so, so many.

I don't think there's any reason to be pessimistic about Gon and Killua's future, aside from the factor of Togashi's health. However, I try to take the attitude that, in the case that it doesn't ever get finished (and assuming Togashi doesn't have some sort of back up plan, and I suspect he might), we get to choose ourselves how it ends. I deeply hope we get a canon reunion between them someday, the thought of this happening is something that keeps me going in life, but if we do have to continue to imagine it ourselves, it certainly could be worse.