#or ruin enemies' weak points

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

[mearcairz]

Hello tumblr let me take a moment of your time to put you onto my worst enemy

looks like a normal tree right? WRONG

these things are sent straight from the bowels of HELL with the SOUL PURPOSE of ruining my entire week

LIKE LOOK AT THEM WHY DO THEY MOVE LIKE THAT

now, i can already hear you typing,

“Xavier, the evermeans are one of the weakest enemies in the game, you are a coward and your bloodline is weak”

and while i do see your point, you are objectively WRONG and i am going to show up to your house WITH A HAMMER

Listen, when im trying to enjoy a nice little stroll through the virtual forests of Hyrule, yknow trying to get myself immersed with the game, the LAST thing i need is THE WEIRD COUSINS OF THE ENTS FROM LORD OF THE RINGS BURSTING OUT OF THE GROUND AND SCARING ME NEARLY HALF TO DEATH WHILE IM TRYING TO ENJOY MY BOWL OF CHICKEN RAMEN AT 3 IN THE MORNING

I hope you can all see my frustration with these ABOMINATIONS TO GOD and i will NOT be taking any constructive criticism GOOD DAY SIR

[prettiestlovergirl]

YOU CAN BE THE BOSS

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; slytherin! reader; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it); rough sex; degradation kink; hair pulling; dacryphilia; begging; some drinking; dom! mattheo; bratty! reader; french! mattheo; impact play.

concept: you and mattheo have been enemies with benefits for a while now, but after you score higher on a test... he wants to make sure you still remember your place with him ;) song: you can be the boss by lana del rey

a/n: still pushing the french! mattheo agenda bcos bilingual men make me go weak in the knees (and ruin my panties). my french is still shit, they do not teach you kinky pet names in high school french class! so bear with me you guys. enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

mattheo riddle was the bane of your existence and the source of all your most recent orgasms.

you couldn't stand each other! he thought you were an insufferable know-it-all and you thought he was a cocky asshole. if it were up to you, you'd have never had to interact with him again.

then, after one late night in the library, it was like a flip had switched on in you both. you still couldn't stand each other, sure, but suddenly you both seemed much more bearable to the other when his cock was bruising your cervix.

and thus began the new phase of your relationship: taunting and teasing each other in public and then fucking out your grievances in private. it was the perfect system, really.

today, you had been particularly insufferable to him. you'd scored exactly two points higher on a charms test and hadn't stopped gloating. you needed to be brought down a peg or two, and mattheo knew just how to do it.

you were both in the common room, the quidditch team having thrown a party to celebrate your house victory in the game against ravenclaw.

you were certainly cocky today and you knew it, your small academic victory had made you a bit giddy. normally, you wouldn't have cared, but mattheo was so annoyed by it, you couldn't help but rub it in! how were you to know that there'd be consequences to your actions?!

when your eyes finally landed on mattheo, he'd been holding a red solo cup and talking with theo in the corner. he looked hot, not that you'd ever tell him that. he didn't need his ego getting any bigger.

you were used to him pouncing on you almost immediately after you spotted him, so when your eyes landed on him and he didn't even look over? you instantly knew that it was him being petty.

well, if he wanted to be petty, two could certainly play that game! he wanted you to come crawling to him and beg him to fuck you? you'd rather die! well, not die, but you know.

mattheo could feel your eyes on him, but he made no effort to look your way or give you any attention. if you wanted him, you had to put in the work tonight. if you wanted to be stubborn, he was more than willing to go home alone and leave you to suffer.

the next hour consisted of you trying to gain his attention in a multitude of ways. you flirted with blaise, danced with theo, even left a perfect imprint of your lipstick on draco, and nothing. little did you know, he kept a tally of every little act for... later use.

he continued to ignore you, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to grab you and fuck you right there in front of everybody. you weren't his girlfriend, but you were still fucking his, and you were absolutely gonna pay for your teasing.

after another 20 minutes, you were done. he was sitting back on the couch, the usual picture of cocky and casual that both turned you on more and simultaneously made you want to slap him across the face. it was a fine little line you walked daily.

you walked up to him, arms crossed over your chest as you narrowed your eyes at him. "fine! you win." you hissed, only to be met with his stupid smug smirk.

"i'm sorry? not sure what you mean, ma douce, (my sweet) what exactly did i win?" he questioned, giving you a fake n innocent look. "i win at so much, gonna need you to be more specific."

you should have just walked away. he was too cocky, it made your skin crawl, but fuck you needed him. "this! this stupid little game your playing, you win, i give up, lets go. now." you felt like a child, wanting to stomp your foot on the ground and beg for his stupid attention.

"ah, well, since you asked so nicely." he grinned, taking his sweet time getting off the couch and setting his cup down. he didn't grab your hand or look back to see if you followed him up the stairs; he knew you would.

"you are such a sore fucking loser!" you huffed once the door was closed, making him laugh at your annoyance and frustration. "so fucking dramatic." he smirked, hands already slipping under your skirt to grab your ass.

you moved to kiss him, but he turned his head away, instead choosing to place his lips on your neck. "dick." you whined, nails scraping over the nape of his neck while his teeth sunk harshly into your skin. "who? me. i'm being nice, don't want to ruin your pretty make-up, môme" (brat) he scoffed back, rolling his eyes at your dramatics.

you dug your nails into his skin as retaliation, but it only resulted in him spanking your ass so hard you yelped out. "un tel putain de gosse" (you're such a fucking child) he murmured as he brought his hands up and unbuttoned your school shirt.

his hands moved quickly to push the fabric off your shoulders, but his mouth moved slow and rough as he let his teeth graze over as much of your bare skin as he could. he might have been annoyed with you, but fuck did he love seeing you covered in his work.

you were getting desperate for more and he knew it, the slowness of his actions entirely purposeful. "mattheo, please." you begged, head leaned back as he smirked against your skin. "please, what? you know i like it when you use your words."

"i hate you." you grumbled, hissing lightly at the pain of his fingers digging into your waist. "sorry, 'm sorry!" you huffed, biting your lip before going on. "please fuck me. now." you half begged; half demanded.

"that's more like it." he smirked, spinning you around and smacking your ass once again. "get on the bed, salope (slut). on your stomach" he commanded, and you happily complied. you laid down on the bed, ass up in the air just like he'd told you to.

"putain (fuck), look at you." mattheo sighed, lifting your skirt up with his hands while he dragged your panties down just under your thighs. he used his hands to keep your spread open, admiring your already glistening pussy.

"you've been so cocky all fucking day, flirting around, bragging. what would they all say if they could see you now? all soaked and desperate." he cooed, dragging his thumb all the way through your folds.

you whined a bit, hips attempting to grind against his hand the best you could before his other hand came back up and spanked you harshly. "gotta stay still, ma douche (my sweet). don't wanna see your pretty little head get hurt." he teased, rubbing over your warm skin.

"s-sorry." you nodded, instantly whining as he pulled away from you. you kept facing the wall, but you could hear his belt being undone and him stripping right behind you.

mattheo groaned as he wrapped his hand around his cock, moving it up and down a few times as he admired the view of you all ready for him.

you wiggled your hips a bit, desperately waiting for him to put you out of your misery and fuck you. he chuckled at your desperation, smacking his cock against your ass just to hear you gasp and moan out.

"tease!" you huffed, grabbing the bedsheets gently as he started to slowly, teasingly, rub his cock through your wet folds. he was just trying to make sure your wetness was spread evenly, that's all! he was being a good fuck buddy.

"fuck, mattheo, please!" you begged, closing your eyes as he continued to tease and mess with your puffy cunt until you were close to tears.

"i had to watch you walk around, flirting with all my fucking friends like a fucking salope. (slut) now you're here, whining and begging for me to do you a favor? doesn't work like that, ma douce (my sweet). you take what i give you, got it?" he asked, spanking you again for good measure.

"'m sorry! 'm sorry, i know, but please, mattheo! need you!" you begged, his hand moving to hold your hip down to keep you from squirming while your arousal dripped all over his cock.

"you gonna be a good girl f'me? if i fuck you real nice, are you gonna keep running your mouth downstairs?" he asked, to which you immediately nodded. "yes! yes, i'll be so good, won't say a word, promise, just please!" you whimpered.

"well, if you promise." he teased, and thrusted all the way into your soaked pussy. he groaned as your walls fluttered around him. you'd fucked dozens of times at this point, but he never got tired of feeling your walls squeeze his cock.

he moved painfully slow, tearing out whines of anguish and frustration from your throat as you gripped his bedsheets. "what's wrong, ma douce (my sweet)? i thought you wanted me to fuck you." he mocked, squeezing your ass tightly.

"please, please, please!" you whined, desperate tears starting to drip down your cheeks as he pulled almost all the way out before slowly and roughly thrust all the way back in. you could feel every inch of him filling you up over and over.

"'m just doing what you asked, ma douce (my sweet). or do you need even more from me?" he scoffed, squeezing and massaging your ass as he continued his slow thrusts.

you instantly nodded, not caring that he was mocking you n calling you greedy. you were too fucking desperate and needy for him and all your tears only seemed to make him want to tease more.

"tellement putain de gourmande." (so fucking greedy) mattheo smirked, punctuating his words with another slap to your ass before finally giving in to your pleads for more and speeding up his thrusts.

"fuck! yes, thank you, thank you, fuck yes!" you moaned, his hips snapping roughly into yours as his free hand gathered your hair into a ponytail, tugging you back and making your back arch.

"such a needy fucking brat, what am i gonna do with you?" he scoffed, looking over your teary face as you continued to moan and whine as he fucked you rough and hard.

you couldn't speak, mind already so hazy from the way his cock stretched your walls. he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, swallowing your moans and squeaks of pure fucking bliss.

he tasted like the malt liquor he'd been drinking from before and you swore you were getting drunk off the taste. he sunk his teeth into your lower lip, groaning against you as he bullied your pussy again and again with no remorse.

your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, signaling just how close you were to cumming. "mm, please, make me cum, please!" you whimpered against him as he pulled away from your lips, hand still tightly fisting your hair as he fucked you.

"that's it, that's ma douce (my sweet). be a good fucking girl and cum on my cock, yeah? cum all over my fucking cock." he commanded, watching as your legs shook on either side of him while you coated his cock in your creamy slick.

he let go of your hair and you practically collapsed against the bed, face smushing into the sheets. he continued to fuck into you, groaning at how much tighter you felt now that you came.

you whined as the overstimulation started to set in, but you were unable to squirm with your legs all jellylike and his hand keeping you in place. you sobbed in pure bliss, staining his sheets with your mascara and tears.

"fuck, that's it fuck." he grunted, biting his lip harshly as he slowed down. "fuck yourself on me, ma douce (my sweet). make me cum." he demanded, drawing another whiny cry from your lips.

"c'mon, you want to be a good girl, don't you? thought you were sorry for being such a brat, huh? fuck yourself on me." he cooed, kneading your ass while you pouted but nodded and forced yourself back up.

you rocked your hips back against him, working at a sluggish pace as you were still too blissed out to function normally. the alcohol n orgasm n cock still filling you up left your brain numb and blank.

after a few more rocks of your hips, he pulled out of you and started to tug his cock until his cum shot onto your back. he watched as your swollen n gummy cunt leaked with your juices, panting as he watched you collapse and he laid down beside you.

you both laid there until you both caught your breath. your eyes were heavy n you were already starting to doze off when he nudged you. "c'mon, lets get you cleaned up." he smirked, pushing himself off the bed.

"whatever you say..." you mumbled sleepily.

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[physalian]

10 Character Dynamics the World Needs More of

Me handing out character dynamics like free samples at the Mall Food Court: “Take one! Or two! You’ll love it!”

I don’t care how many times these tropes have been done – write more of them. Write all of them. Fill out your author bingo card one by one.

1. “No one gets to kill you but me, Old Friend”

This. Right here. Primo rival content that I *live* for. All the juicy history between two old frenemies, the character drama, the backstory, the titillating unknown of what drove these two to rival status, bitter enemies that respect the heck out of each other, to the point that hell hath no fury should one get knocked down without the other’s consent.

And, of course, the moment where it seems all bets are off, when the rival comes to save their ass only to hand it back to them at a later date. The angst! The shipping fodder! Need I say more?

2. A bigger, badder villain, and their minion

You, reader, spend countless hours hating the guts of the big bad villain. They’re evil, they’re vile, they’re sadistic, heartless, irredeemable bastards. They killed your favorite character for shock value. The big bad moustache-twirling antagonist… is actually not the biggest fish in the story.

Either they’re coerced into doing evil as a puppet of the Bigger Bad, a tragic villain in their own right, or they have some reservation, some line even they won’t cross, someone else’s boots they have to kiss, someone who features in their nightmares, as they feature in the heroes. They end their stories dispatched without a thought by the Bigger Bad, or redeem themselves in death by taking out their masters. It never gets old.

3. A leader and their lancer: besties

You know what’s better than leaders and lancers who have zero faith in each other and are constantly bickering about who should be in charge? Leaders and their right-hands who adore each other (platonically). They have each other’s backs, they know each other’s greatest strengths and weaknesses and are each other’s perfect covers.

They can communicate with looks and vague gestures alone, they compliment each other’s flaws and misgivings, build up the rest of the team when they’re down on their luck, and should misfortune strike either, they pull out all the stops and show off exactly why they’re not to be trifled with, so that even the villain is afraid.

4. “I don’t even know who you are”

Oh, but you will. This one twists the knife, robbing the avenging hero of the importance in this world they’re desperate to maintain. They are their own hero, the sun revolves around them… but not to this one asshat that ruined their life and doesn’t even remember doing it.

An entire identity built upon the finding, fighting, and overcoming of this wrongdoer, every other goal in life cast aside for this one impossibility. Either the villain toys with the hero to make them irate, or gets suckerpunched by some pissant fueled by vengeance and spite and divine purpose to dole justice where justice is due.

6. The jaded badass and their naive ward

If the last 8 years of media is anything to go by, we still love this trope, whether it’s in a galaxy far, far away or a fungi-zombie post-apocalypse, or in the twilight hours of an era of legendary mutants. The best part of this trope? You get two often contradictory character types in one body. The pessimist, PTSD-ridden master of old with no living friends left and at least one dead love interest *and* beneath all that, still lies an atrophied heart of gold just waiting to be nurtured and revived.

The naive ward gets a hard lesson in how crappy the world can be, but also in how there’s still some goodness left, if their guardian cares about them. The jaded badass in turn, learns how good the world can be, that there’s something still worth fighting for beyond the next bottom of a bottle.

6. The enemy of my enemy (is my friend)

Similar to the “old friends”, this trope is often a result of the minioned Big Bad realizing they don’t want to be evil anymore. Or, bitter old rivals, sides of a war that have been fighting for generations, ideological polar opposites, fundamental polar opposites all come together when: Some evil schmuck managed to scare them both.

Doesn’t matter on what shaky ground this temporary alliance is built, or how long it lasts, equally-competent badasses on both sides finally work together and compliment each other’s strengths, and compensate for their weaknesses, in a way their teammates never could.

7. The irredeemable villain’s only wholesome connection

Not so irredeemable anymore, now are they? This trope messes with your head, taking a character you know has done heinous acts of terror, but who cares unflinchingly, unabashedly, about one thing – either their lover, their pet, their relative, or their kid.

This exists independently of the heroes and is not the same as an “oops I guess I’m your father” reveal. I’m talking this character who everyone is convinced cares about nothing and no one but themselves and their ambition still has a place in their soul for something they want to protect, they want to be loved by, or that they must spare from their atrocities.

8. Platonic Heterosexual Friendships

These two have seen each other at their most vulnerable. They’ve shared fears, dreams, desires, know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. They’ve seen each other exhausted, frazzled, dressed up, dressed down, bloodied and broken and like a raw, open nerve. These two would die for each other, they would live for each other, and yet.

They’re not in love with each other. They’re wholly comfortable in each other’s spaces without lust and desire mucking up the atmosphere. Neither is the one, neither wants to be the one. They remain together not for the bonds of romance, but for the bonds of friendship, and nothing could be stronger.

10. The Ace and their best friend, the Self-Proclaimed Slut

These two respect the f*ck out of each other. One never mocks the other for lacking desire and in return, they’re never mocked for their promiscuity. They’ll never walk in each other’s shoes, but they don’t need to, to understand that’s just how some people are. They’re each other’s safest spaces when the world doesn’t take either of them seriously.

They’re each other’s biggest defenders against the bullies, presumers, the holier-than-thous who think they have it all figured out. They’re the perfect compliment to give advice on everything from relationships to the best outfits for an outing because there’s *zero sexual tension* between them. Or, maybe, if the stars align, they’re something more.

10. The redeeming villain, and their staunchest skeptic

This villain has lost everything – their home, the respect of their people, their worth, their evil ambition, their identity, and has begun working their way up from rock bottom doing everything in their power to show the heroes that they’re serious. They make amends, they break their bones proving themselves, they’ve swayed everyone they’ve wronged in the hero camp.

Except one. The one character that was probably their first defender, and got burned for it. The character that was naive enough to think this villain could be saved, and was wrong. The character that won’t be duped again without some serious drama and soul-bearing between them.

Now tell me which ones I missed!

[cupidsdolll]

pairings: boyfriend!mafia!Harry x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: Harry's known for being ruthless in the way he does his job, a day out with his girlfriend takes a horrible turn.

content warnings. IMPORTANT: hurt no comfort. blood, guns, knifes, and death. please read with caution

authors note: this has to be the darkest story i've written and i just want to say please read with caution, don't read if you are uncomfortable with any of the warning written above. minors please don't interact. this may or may not have a second part following the aftermath.

----

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. 

Everything seems to go wrong one after another and Harry blames himself. If he hadn’t been so reckless, had been paying more attention he would’ve seen it coming. He figured they’d come for him eventually, there’s no denying that part. He had enemies, there’s no doubt about that. It just comes with the job, or the title he would say. Being a head boss of his huge mafia crew, he’s bound to have enemies because of the fact that he’s relentless in his ways. 

He doesn’t waste time with questions that most people ask before killing someone, he gathers the information beforehand and watches them before making his move. He’s mean in his acts, likes to torture them and prolong the pain before quickly putting them out of the misery (he just doesn’t like to hear their screams.) He’ll beat them and laugh while doing it, mocking their cries while he tortures them. He’s well known around the United States, his name sending fear through most people that hear it. No one wants to deal with him, to end up on his bad side, while other mafias will send their catch to him sometimes if one of their employees doesn't want to do it. He’s popular with the other bosses, constantly being invited to any events and to teach but he declines, it’s simply a waste of his time. 

While his hard exterior scares off anyone in sight, there’s one person who broke down his walls and quite frankly is  the complete opposite of him. While he’s all black and grumpy, she’s soft and sunshine-y, all bows and giggles and sweet smelling perfume. She doesn’t hang around him while he’s “Mafia Harry,” usually out shopping or baking or whatever because she can’t stand blood or seeing anyone get hurt though she understands why he does what he does. His men think he’s crazy half of the time, the amount of times they’ve walked into him smiling on the phone (when he’s not bossing his men around, barking orders over the phone or beating someone to a pulp) or chuckling to himself at certain points of the day is concerning to them. 

He doesn’t talk about his personal life to them aside from his closest man on the team, EJ who has heard bits and pieces about Harry’s girlfriend, his other men don’t get paid to listen to him gush on and on about the girl of his dreams. They whisper amongst themselves about how he’s smoked too much or needs to cut back on drinking and drugs and whatever else he does, they think it’s all gone to his head. None of them bring it up to him though, they know better than to do so. After all, he is the one that signs their checks and he treats them well enough that they don’t want to mess up any chances of keeping their job. They just don’t understand how their grumpy and uncaring boss can be so smiley and happy, especially before he has to take care of someone. 

He keeps her away from his job for a reason, there’s no need for anyone to see her, to know that he does in fact have a weakness. He doesn’t want to take a chance of a mole coming in and reporting to their boss about her. His main focus is protecting her and making her happy, always having her sporting his favorite smile. Besides, she’s too pretty to be around all the gruff men and blood and screams. He doesn’t want to tarnish her in any way, he loves her just the way she is and he refuses to be the one to ruin her view of the world. He doesn’t want her to end up like him, all grumpy and somewhat pessimistic of the world and always on the edge whenever he leaves the house. He wants her to keep laughing and cooing at cute animals they pass by, wants her to feel comfortable enough with him to always be able to shut her brain off and just follow him aimlessly. 

He’s a busy man, constantly having to answer phone calls and texts and emails and double checking surveillance videos to make sure they have the right guy, but he tries his best to leave work at the door when it’s just the two of them. He wants to be able to just enjoy the time together and not have to worry about who he needs to find next, wants to be able to look at her smiling and be content with that. He wants to enjoy their time together, doesn’t want to be distracted with his work duties and the constant sound of his phone dinging. 

They normally would just hang out at the house, watching whatever tv show either of them were interested in or just lounging around. That’s one of the main things that he loves about her is that she’s content with just existing with him, his past partner wanted to go out all of the time and party. He didn’t necessarily mind it, but he prefers to just unwind and relax on his off days; he just wanted to have a sense of normalcy, the peace amidst his chaos and his storms. That’s what happened when he met her. It was a cute little meeting that Harry still brings up quite frequently and is one of Y/N’s favorite memories of them. 

Harry was having a bad day, it all seemed to go wrong. While he’s always grumpy, he woke up especially grumpy that morning and of course he tried his best to not take it out on his employees, but of course still ended up being overly sarcastic with them, grumbling about whatever they did that upset him so he decided to make a trip to just breathe. He grabbed his jacket, hat and sunglasses and quickly let EJ know he’s leaving and he’s in charge for the meantime. He walked for what seemed like hours before he landed on a small coffee shop, a small run down looking building with plants in almost every corner and empty space. He figures this might help with his grumpy mood so he walks inside, the smell of coffee and different pastries fill his nose immediately, the sound of the different conversations happening all at once and the soft piano music coming from the speakers fill the space and his ears. 

He ordered a drink out of his normal, one that was recommended by EJ’s girlfriend actually, a tall white chocolate mocha with just a drizzle of caramel and it has to be iced. Those were her words exactly, it won’t taste as good if he doesn’t order it exactly how she says it.  The lady looked at him weird, a concerned glance that only says she knows how to do her job so she’d appreciate it if he didn’t doubt her abilities. He only gives her a nasty glare in return, one that flusters her so she walks away mumbling to herself as she starts making the order. He then walks to one of the nearby walls, leaning against it as his eyes scan the room and taking in the different personalities, mainly doing this to be aware of who else in the room with him (as if anyone who’s in the mafia would be ordering coffee, let alone from the same cheap looking building that he’s in,) but still just in case. 

Not even a couple minutes later, his order is being called out and he walks up to the register once more, hoping this will help his grumpy mood. He wasn’t paying as much attention as he should’ve been though, otherwise he would’ve known that this wasn’t his order actually. As he went to grab the cup of coffee, another hand reached out as well, one that was smaller and softer. Painted nails and a few rings on the fingers, and he immediately looks up with a scowl ready to tell the person off. It was his drink after all, what were they thinking? When he looked up, he was met with a soft apologetic smile and the prettiest of eyes, her hair held back with a big bow and an outfit to match. She smelt like heaven if that was a smell, sweet smelling and strong; a scent that matched her aura perfectly, although Harry wouldn’t call it her aura, he didn’t know the right word to describe it. 

He couldn’t go off on her, it’d be cruel and he’s not that mean, so he just stares at her. She immediately begins to fidget with her hands and he can tell he’s intimidating her. 

“I’m so so sorry! I just assumed this one was mine because I was here before you, but you can go ahead and take it!” She says through a breath, her eyes wide and face flushed. He furrowed his eyebrows at her, he doesn’t understand why she’s giving away her coffee if it’s true. He’s not gonna just take someone else’s coffee no matter his mood. 

“No, no go ahead. If you were here first then I’m not gonna just take it.” He says as he pushes the cup closer to her, he can feel the unnecessary glare from the worker at the whole interaction and it only irritates him further. 

“Are you sure? You seem very…um…. Grumpy and I’d hate to make your day worse.” She says as she pushes the cup towards him. 

This is all very silly, the whole situation. He’s just trying to be a gentleman and she can’t grasp that. He then grabs the cup and puts it in her hand, forcing a smile to seem as if he’s friendly and not trying to hide his frustration. 

“I’m serious, I don’t even know if I’ll like mine, it was a suggestion from a… friend of mine I guess. Enjoy it before it gets watery.” He says, but he doesn’t understand why he’s being so nice to her. Maybe because she’s pretty? But he doesn’t want to date her, he can’t afford to waste his time like this anymore.  She ends up telling him her name and asking a couple of questions to try to make small talk and unfortunately for Harry she’s fairly easy to talk to. They talk until his drink is ready, and then some more out the door as they walk to their destinations and then she has the confidence to ask for his number, which of course (and against his better judgment) he agrees. 

After that it’s pretty smooth sailing, conversations whenever they have the time, and of course a little white lie whenever she asks about what he does for work. Months later, Harry found himself asking her to be his girlfriend and of course she said yes. They usually spend their time lounging around and just existing in each other’s company, but today Y/N wanted to go for a little walk around the town. Normally Harry would be against it, especially when it’s right after he just took care of a member of a rival mafia who’s higher up on the scale and he knows he has several mad enemies looking for revenge. But Harry had thought that he’d been doing a good job hiding her from the public, having her dress as one of his men or wearing some sort of disguise after he told her the gist of what he actually does, so he doesn’t think much of it. He agrees but tells her they can only be out for half an hour, no more just to be on the safe side. She squeals excitedly before tugging on her shoes and throwing on one of his jackets and basically drags him out of their apartment. 

She shows him a couple of her favorite spots in town and gives him her favorite orders and practically begs for him to try, he will always try anything she wants. They talk quietly, wrapped in their own little bubble of bliss and this was Harry’s biggest mistake. He’s usually very attentive whenever they’re out and about, but he allowed himself to be distracted listening to her talk. She’s excited as she talks about some outfit she wants to get for the pet they don’t have, her eyes all bright and full of excitement. The air is warm against their skin and the clouds begin to roll in, dark and menacing and this is where Harry should’ve begun to take a hint. 

Things seemed too calm, aside from the storm beginning to roll in. It seemed too quiet, and then the rain began to fall. Small droplets of water cooled their skin and Y/N smiled brightly at the sky, silently thanking the universe because she always likes walking in the rain. It just always seemed so romantic to her. Harry didn’t think too much of it though he was still cautious. His eyes still scanned over the sidewalks and streets, trying to stay alert of his surroundings. He watched as Y/N tugged her jacket closer to her, a signal that she’s getting too cold but she’s always been too stubborn to let him know, she just enjoys being outside too much. 

He just assumed that time would be on his side with all of it, and had enough time to somehow throw the Gallegos family off of his tracks long enough to not have to be on edge anytime he’s out. He hates it whenever he feels as if he’s putting Y/N in harm's way, hates the feeling it gives him knowing he’s the reason she can’t just walk down the street or just even exist in this world. He’s too scared of someone linking her to him and then taking her away. Y/N says she doesn’t mind all that much, this is the happiest and the most taken care of she’s been in a really long time. As long as they’re both happy and safe, then she could care less. 

Harry didn’t see it coming. The breeze was picking up and the rain was coming down harder, thunder began to boom in the sky. The storm was coming, and it was coming fast. Everyone was scrambling to get indoors or to their cars and Y/N’s just smiling but still walking fast, she hates being too wet for too long. They were bumping into one another and Harry walked a beat behind her, just in case she happened to trip or anything. There was a slight commotion happening in front of them, the sound of gasps and the shuffling of feet as they were pushed to the side. Before long a man is running at them, a hood hiding his face and wearing baggy clothes. Harry still doesn’t think too much of it, maybe a burglary or he upset a store owner, but he’s still cautious. He walks closer to Y/N, his face turning mean in an attempt to deter the man from bothering them. It’s useless though, a good attempt at best but the man moves closer and Harry frowns. He wraps an arm around his girl and begins to move her onto the other side but the man is already right beside them, still moving. 

He’s an arm's length away and before anyone can realize it a knife is entering Y/N’s side and she’s groaning and leaning over. Harry can’t believe it, he frowns deeply and his eyes scan over her. He picks her up and begins to make his way through the crowd to find an empty spot, to make sure they’re safe before anything else happens. There’s more gasps and murmurs around them, more than likely the bystanders either assume he did it or they’re just shocked. It’s not every day that you see blood pouring out of someone. Right before Harry can get them into an alleyway and when he clicks on his ear piece to alert EJ about what’s happening, a gunshot sounds and the bullet goes into Y/N’s head, her blood splattering over his clothes and onto his face. 

He hurries into the alleyway, tears streaming down his face as he stares in disbelief. 

“EJ here, what’s up boss?” EJ’s voice comes through Harry’s earpiece. 

“EJ, they found me. They hurt her. I need you to get into all the security cameras on the strip and find out who did it, search for snipers as well. One Knifed her and someone else shot her,” His voice cracks on every word. He gently sets her down onto the ground near the wall, once he feels as if they’re far enough. Hidden enough by the shadows of the buildings but with just enough light to see the damage. 

It seemed as if the sky screamed with Harry. 

The rain was pouring down heavily, the clouds dark and the wind was unforgiving as it blew harshly against the trees and the ground below them. The lighting strikes were loud, bright flashes of light burst from the sky randomly and loud rumbles of thunder were deep in his ears. Mother Nature has to be upset as well, crying with and for Harry and his loss. He can’t believe it, the love of his life. Gone. Her breathing is shallow and her eyes are just barely opened, she doesn’t have much life left. 

“You fucking promised! You can’t leave me! Don’t hurt me like this… please” Harry’s voice cracks as he sobs over the body in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry, mama. I’m so fucking sorry, you didn’t deserve this and it’s all my fault. I knew me being in your life was a bad idea but I couldn’t help it. You made me so fucking happy, the happiest I’ve been in a while. You deserved nothing but happiness and smiles, you shouldn’t have to worry about hiding. I was selfish and I’ll forever blame myself, I should’ve let you go. I’m so fucking sorry. I love you, please. You can’t leave me. I need you.” He cries, his words are muffled into her neck, somehow hoping him speaking into her body will magically bring her back to life, keep her alive. He can’t hear anything aside from his own sobs, everyone else doesn’t matter to him at this moment. He’s sure that EJ is trying to talk to him, but he can only focus on the fact that he’ll never be able to hold her again. 

He’ll never be able to hear her laugh again. He holds her tighter to him, his tears landing in her skin and he screams. He screams and screams forever, he doesn’t care that he’s gaining attention from the people walking by. He doesn’t  care that they’re calling the police and ambulances, doesn’t care that he could be attracting his enemies. They took the only thing he truly cared for. He knows he’ll never be able to love again. There’s a few people trying to help, ask if he needs anything. Offering to take them to the hospital, even the paramedics can’t get to her. He won’t let them take her away from him, he can’t bear it. He can’t imagine a life away from her. They’re trying to convince him that she needs to go to the hospital, trying to take her from his hold. He just holds her limp body tighter, crying harder and yells at them. 

Eventually they’re able to calm him down enough to remove her from his hold and they begin to transfer her to the ambulance. 

“Don’t bother taking her to the hospital. Just take her to the morgue. She’s dead. There’s no saving her.” He says as he wipes his tears, everyone just stares at him. 

“Please.” He says and just walks through them, he doesn’t have it in him to argue. Right now, he has a mission. He’s determined to get revenge. 

He now has no reason to not hold back anymore, and he plans on finding each and every one from that group. 

He’s not going to play nice, and he’s going to take his dear sweet time. If they thought he was crazy and ruthless already, he’s going to prove that he’s insane now.

[smileyoongle]

Pairing- VampireKing!Jungkook × Human!Reader

Genre- Arranged Marriage AU (Sort of?), Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate AU

Summary- Jeon Jungkook was known to be a tyrant, destroying anything and everything to get what he wanted. And this time, he wanted you.

A/N- Hi guys, this chapter is not essentially a chapter in the series. It is more like an explanation of the current world order in the series' timeline. Please remember, there is going to be no taglist for this series, so keep your notifications on. Okay bye :-)

The Exodus: Unveiling the Origins and Consequences of the Night-Walker Dominion

By Elara Claxon

July 14th 1324

Three thousand years ago, the world witnessed a cataclysmic event known as The Exodus. It was a day when Hell, overwhelmed by an unprecedented number of sinners, could no longer contain them. In an act of desperation, the Devil unleashed these tormented souls upon the Earth, transforming them into vampires. They emerged from their graves, giving birth to an era of terror and bloodshed. These night-walkers, driven by an insatiable thirst for blood, wreaked havoc across the world, decimating entire populations and forcing humanity into hiding.

For years, humans struggled to survive, constantly on the run, seeking refuge from their relentless pursuers. In the midst of this chaos, they began to uncover the weaknesses of these creatures and devise means to counter their strength. It was during this dark period that two self-chosen leaders emerged—Theron for the humans and Aristarchus for the vampires. These leaders, whose names have since become legendary, met in secret to negotiate a fragile peace.

At the time, the world was divided into thirteen nations. Theron and Aristarchus brokered an agreement to partition these nations based on mutual understanding, creating a semblance of order amid the chaos. For a while, this uneasy truce held, allowing both humans and night-walkers to coexist in their respective territories.

However, not all vampires were content with the division. A faction of them, hungry for absolute power, revolted against the established order. They waged a brutal campaign, overthrowing the human-controlled kingdoms one by one until only a single human nation remained. Today, the world is divided into twelve vampire kingdoms and one human kingdom, a stark testament to the aftermath of the great night-walker revolt.

To govern their expanding dominion, the monsters established a ruling council known as the Domini, composed of the seven oldest and most powerful night-walkers. These ancient beings, with centuries of wisdom and strength, assumed control over the night-walker kingdoms. They decreed that one vampire would be chosen as Emperor, tasked with overseeing all thirteen kingdoms. Despite this, the human kingdom remained autonomous, refusing to acknowledge the night-walker emperor’s rule.

The Domini also codified a set of laws and principles in a tome called "The New Order." This book became the cornerstone of vampire governance, outlining the rights and responsibilities of both the Primas and the Foundlings. Primas, the pure-bred who were awakened from the grave by Hell or some miracle, held a revered status. Foundlings, created from turned humans, were often treated as outcasts within their own society.

In recent times, tensions have reached a boiling point. The humans, determined to reclaim their lost territories and sovereignty, have incited revolts across the vampiric kingdoms. These uprisings have led to widespread destruction and loss of life on both sides. Cities lie in ruins, and the streets run red with the blood of humans and night-walkers alike.

The world now stands on the brink of another great upheaval. The delicate balance maintained by The New Order is crumbling under the weight of renewed conflict. As humans fight to regain their power and night-walkers struggle to maintain their dominance, the future of this fractured world hangs in the balance. The Domini, once thought to be the unassailable rulers of the night-walker kingdoms, find their authority challenged at every turn. The ancient treaties and laws that once held the world together are now mere relics of a forgotten era.

In this tumultuous landscape, the fate of humanity and night-walker-kind alike is uncertain. The echoes of The Exodus still reverberate through the ages, a grim reminder of the chaos that can ensue when the balance of power is disrupted. As both sides prepare for the battles to come, one thing is clear: the world as it once was will never be the same again.

Stay vigilant, stay informed, and may we never lose hope.

For information, or to report news, please find us at:

23 Shadowed Alley, Raven's Cross, Valoria

The Eyewitness Post | Keeping the Light of Truth Alive in the Darkest Times

[puff0o0]

Nikto was never one to think about love or a future with someone.

The torture of being captured and what they did to him, scarring and mutilating his face and self image, ruining relationships and friendships because people were disgusted by his scars and pain.

The agony and suffering they gave him, the scars on his mind and tainted memories filled with hatred and rage.

They took away everything and left him with nothing

He lived many years alone, never bothering to get to know people as he knew there was no point. His teammates were only teammates and he made sure it stayed that way.

It was hard to trust someone.

Anyone could do what they did to him again and again, anyone could hurt him.

Anyone could use him or kill him.

No one was ever there for him and he didn't expect there to ever be a special someone to be there

But you

Oh, precious you

Somehow managed to worm your way into his heart and he hated it. He didn't want to get close to you, he couldn't. The thought that you may be disgusted or ashamed ruined everything for him.

He was a soldier, he shouldn't care what others think.

And yet you were the most important person to him.

He was a gentle giant with you and he didn't even realize it.

With others he was cold and distant, never talking much and if he did his voice was gruff and monotone. He was a horrifying figure on the battlefield, one that many enemies of his feared to come across.

His own teammates were afraid of him.

But with you, he was quiet, listening to every word that left your lips and soaking the information in his brain. He wanted to know every little thing about you, he needed to.

You were someone who gave him a warm feeling, a hopeful and tender care he hadn't received in so so long

He had to protect you, care for you, love you

His body and heart didn't give him a choice

He enjoyed holding your hands, feeling the warmth radiate off of them and onto him. He never did it often, fearing he may get used to the feeling and let it consume him and make him weak

He enjoyed talking to you, hearing your voice like a melody floating around the air and letting his ears be the blessed one to hear it. His brain absorbed every word and didn't let a single ounce out.

He enjoyed you.

[hoony2k]

I'D LOVE TO HATE YOU IN EACH LIFE

You were a werewolf, he was a vampire, both corporate slaves, can I make it more obvious?

Pairing: vampire! Jake x werewolf! reader ft human! sunghoon

Genre: enemies to somewhat lovers, work place au!, they like each other but don't know that yet au (?)

Word count: 1k+

Warnings: none just imaginary strangling as a metaphor for love

Note: it took me a day to write this but 3 years to decorate it. Hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it. Jake ily ♡

Masterlist

The hum of the printer had just begun when a sudden scent filled your senses. It was unmistakable, completely unavoidable. The stench of earth and ruins overflooded you and the realisation of who had entered your sanctuary dawned upon you. Of course, it was him, the same man who walked either unaware or unbothered that the breath of death clung onto him as he marched into the office.

With unholy steps, the vampire stacked his papers right next to yours. A deep exhale left your nostrils in an attempt to calm your annoyance and to distract yourself from his suffocating scent.

“Jaeyun”, you growled.

He rolled his eyes in weak irritation and waved his hand around as a greeting though it hung in the air as an insult.

He shoved your papers near the edge of the table. “I’m going to be your supervisor soon. Better learn to show me respect”.

You stalked up to him, abandoning your post by the printer that dutifully spit out documents you were scanning. You pointed an accusing finger in his face.

He jerked his head backwards, and a strand landed perfectly on his forehead: vampires and their stupid innate visual perfection. You shoved your finger in his face once more and he scowled, your claw barely missed poking his eye.

“Good luck trying to save your skin after I get promoted. I’m going to make you wish you never left Hell”, you snarl.

He smacked your hand away and laughed loudly, dull eyes scanning you up and down with a burst of interest.

“He didn’t tell you?”

You squinted your eyes at him despite not needing to do so, though it allowed you to appear intimidating, Jake’s expression wavered from arrogance to mild discomfort until his smug smile returned to his plush pink lips.

He leaned closer to you and sinfully whispered the words he knew you could easily hear.

“Heeseung took me to dinner last night. Bought me the classic five-star steak, and showed off his black card”. You raised a brow in disbelief at the story. There was no way your boss would be stupid enough to show blatant favouritism before choosing who gets his comfy chair and floor to ceiling window office.

You turned your back to Jake, conveying the most apathetic look you could muster. He sensed your sceptical attitude and brought a poisoned apple for you to bite.

The printer beeped, you took out the printed files and then crouched down to reach for the fresh stack of A4 papers to add to the printer.

Jake inspected his short nails when he spoke once more.

“Yeah, he told me a story of how he sent some dumb mutt chasing ghosts”, he ended the sentence in a sing-song manner which did more than grab your attention.

You bumped your head under the table as you hastily stood to your feet, heels allowing you see the other man eye to eye. Fingers shaking with anger, you fumbled through the newly printed documents and sparks inflamed inside you when you realised that it was true. Heeseung had asked you to print out all the files Sunoo Kim from Sales emailed him-they were merchant details from last year. You weren’t even printing out the updated version. This was all useless information from months ago. Jaeyun wasn’t lying, he acted as Heeseung’s pathetic date last night.

By the time your consciousness allowed you to return to the present, Jaeyun had doubled over in laughter. His eyes were misty with unshed tears, lashes fluttering. His boyish giggles echoed through the room and resonated in your heart with a sick clang. He had his head thrown back revealing the long curve of his neck and angular jaw, his strong shoulders hidden under a pristine dress shirt shook with each deep breath. He covered his face with his hand to calm himself but his loud laughter increased when he met the fury in your eyes.

God, he truly was beautiful. And he’d look ethereal with your hands around his neck trying to end his infinite life.  

The next course of action occurred in a blink of an eye. Had Jaeyun not been occupied with his fit, he could have blocked you or certainly halted you with ease. Though, fortune seemed to favour you. In less than a second, your nails automatically grew and hands flew to his collar, with all your body weight pushed upon him, he stumbled backwards until his back harshly collided with the wall and he choked out a silent gasp. The numerous tables in the room shook gently with the impact, ink, staplers and whatnot clanged in their plastic containers but you paid attention to the noise.

You ignored how Jaeyun’s raised brows returned to their usual height, how his dilated pupils shrank then grew again at the sight of you, how his shock morphed into delight and he stretched his lips to show off his teeth, fangs challenged you further, begged you.

His arms hung by his sides even when a crumb of the drywall ceiling fell onto his gelled hair, painting his dark locks silver.

You shuddered in a deep breath to calm yourself before you did worse like actually punch his pretty face. That would be a ticket straight to HR, a perfect opportunity for Jaeyun to bad-mouth you. His collar crinkled under your grip, your nails were close to tearing holes in the stiff material.

Your voice felt like hot venom to Jaeyun.

“I want you to get lost and find someone else to entertain your childish behaviour before I-”,

Sudden advancing steps paused your threat at the tip of your tongue. Grip on his collar loosening, you allowed his body to slide an inch down, his heel finally touching the ground though Jaeyun continued to stare at you, clearly unconcerned regarding your change in attitude.

The door of the small printing room was flung open and revealed co-worker Park Sunghoon with a bright smile adorning his face. For a minute second minute period he stared at the questionable position he found you two with perplexity, but his charming expression did not diminish.

Instead, he chose to ignore whatever might have been happening and stepped closer to you, arms stretched out for what you and Jaeyun presumed to be an oncoming hug. Your nails shrunk to their normal length and Jaeyun zipped his mouth shut.

Immediately, you were proven right as Sunghoon engulfed your bodies in his, his arms went wide trying to hug two bodies together. The dusty bleak scent of vampires merged with the human’s pure scent infused with spicy perfume and you held your breath. With one final squeeze that pushed your face into Jaeyun’s neck, Sunghoon decided to kill the intimacy. You poked an elbow in Jaeyun’s ribs in a petty fashion and he shoved you backwards in return.

Sunghoon’s immense glee was what blinded him from your sour expressions. His arms never fell to his sides, they hung in the air in an invisible web, ready for another hug. You tiptoed closer to the table and Jaeyun pretended to need something from the printer. Then, Sunghoon’s words had the blood drain from Jaeyun’s face and fired icy dread in your stomach.

“You guys will not believe what happened! I got promoted to Supervisor!”

Jaeyun stood dead in shock but you marched towards Sunghoon, expression laced with confusion and a hint of hope that this may simply be a misunderstanding. Sunghoon wasn’t even a candidate. He wasn’t present during the interviews. He joined the company this year. Jaeyun and you had been around for longer, given your hard work, intellect and slaved away for more hours than Sunghoon ever had-

Said man grabbed your shoulder delicately, the innocent smile remained on his face. “I know! I was as surprised as you guys are. I didn’t think Heeseung liked me”.

You were rendered speechless. Sunghoon let his hand fall to his side, then stared around in evident awe, still in disbelief. He gave you and Jaeyun one final nod and smiled.

“I gotta run guys, I just wanted to share the news with my two buddies”.

The door clicked shut softly and the sound brought Jaeyun back to life and he fell to his knees. He cursed under his breath once, then twice. You sighed deeply and felt all anticipation for future purchases wash down the drain. Jaeyun shook his head and stared you right in the face.

“That guy doesn’t even know my landline number”.

You answered with another sigh, shoulders slumped.

“That’s bare minimum information. Hell, I know your number by heart”, he spoke loudly.

You glanced at his feeble attempt to connect the dots. On a usual day, you would have watched him suffer, you would have enjoyed it so much. The bittersweet taste of seeing his furrowed brows and pout left you with the satisfaction of knowing something he didn’t. Yet, there was no joy in watching him crumble today. You answered his questions for him.

“He doesn’t care about us. He came here to brag, Jaeyun. It’s that simple,” you picked up the printed documents and traced the dates. You debated throwing them but the thought of wasting paper stopped you. “He doesn’t have lunch with us or any of the other employees. He just disappears”.

Jaeyun sprung up to his feet, hand reaching the table to balance himself. He was far too close to you and he turned his face to look at you, inches closer than before. You could count the pores on his face and see yourself reflected in hollowness of his dark eyes. Your eyes trailed the long slope of his nose bridge, his cupids bow, then you forced yourself to a stop.

It took him a moment to collect his composure, a futile attempt to wear his usual smug face but you could tell he couldn’t be bothered to keep face.

Both of you lost the war.

It was the vampire’s turn to sigh. “I guess we know who he was having lunch dates with”. He spat out the word ‘date’. You spared a gentle glance at him, actually soaking his presence in for once.

There were no weapons aimed at you nor were there any threats you were about to spit at him. For once, you looked at him.

Jaeyun was tall, confidence oozed from his body language and words, he wasn’t bad to look at either. This was probably the first ‘non-work’ (as much as it could be) conversation you two shared, the most decent you two had ever been before.

You flung the papers in the bin, shoved them all inside then stomped on them for personal satisfaction. Jaeyun watched with a raised brow as you turned to him, your shoulders pulled back and a flirty smile hung on your lips. You had transformed your self beforr his eyes, gazed sweetly as him instead of scowling at his entire being.

He could get used to this.

“Wanna grab lunch early?”.

He mirrored your smile, canines out on display. He watched how your eyes narrowed at him and he responded ny scanning you up and down with hooded eyes.

What was this shift in the limbo, a peace treaty? Truce? Whatever it was, it wasn’t friendship that swam in your eyes. It was a silent challenge, a howl that called to his unbeating heart. Whatever it was, Jaeyun was ready to drown himself in it.

“What are we waiting for?”.

Thank you for reading! please do not edit/translate/copy.

[knightwithakay]

swordfighting observations

when I had only been doing HEMA for a little while, I turned to a friend and said: "this is going to ruin fictional swordfighting for me, isn't it?" and he said, immediately: "yep."

THAT SAID, a lot of live fencing still happens too quickly for me to really track and process what is and isn't happening. so the one fictional swordfighting thing I've always wondered about is the only one I'll speak to here, and that is

TWO SWORDS CLASH IN THE MIDDLE DISTANCE, BLADE TO BLADE. A WITTY QUIP IS EXCHANGED. ONE FIGHTER LEANS IN, TRYING TO EXERT POWER; THE OTHER DOES THE SAME; ONE BEGINS TO GAIN GROUND, FORCING THE OTHER BACKWARDS FROM SHEER FORCE ALONE

hey guys, I'm always thinking at this point. hot stuff, but couldn't you just like...move the sword as soon as it's clear brute force ain't gonna do it?

So I will be talking about the longsword concepts of binding and winding and also some anecdotal observation of my year and change learning both longsword and greatsword.

Obligatory caveat that I'm specifically speaking to concepts as I've learned em as German KDF longsword fencing, or as montante fencing, and I don't do shit with one-handed weapons.

First up: Binding. In longsword, your priorities are as follows: 1) keep the other person from hitting you 2) hit the other person, in that order. In the course of 1, it is pretty frequent that your swords will hit each other and hold. This is called the bind. I'm told that with sharp swords the bind is actually fairly literal; when two sharpened edges, potentially with burs and other rough spots, come into contact, they do lock into place rather than sliding around.

You can have a strong bind, when the lowest and more powerful part of your blade is in contact with the upper portion of your enemy's; a weak bind, when your upper sword is trying to exert pressure on their lower sword; or a neutral bind, where you both meet in the middle, as our lovebirds are doing.

Keeping the bind is actually pretty desirable sometimes, for a very straightforward reason: you know immediately where your enemy's sword is if you're in contact with it, and you have some leverage over it. Being in physical contact with the sword as it moves is much more immediate feedback that trying to visually track and defend against it. So the idea of these two homoerotic duelers maintaining contact long enough to quip is not actually that crazy.

Just sticking there and leaning at each other, however, is. Enter winding! In a nutshell, winding is the act of keeping your sword in the bind but positioning it such that you have an advantage. This can look like moving from a neutral bind to a strong bind, moving the tip of their sword from a threatening position to one where they can't reach you, or getting into a place where you can stab them in the face from the bind or even hit them with the pommel (classic). Physically, you're shifting the placement and direction of the sword, moving from guard to guard (from low on your hip to above your head, or switching side of the body) to try and find the advantage while maintaining pressure on their sword.

With two people who know what they're doing, winding can be very fluid and almost dance-like, as both fencers react to the other person, maintain contact, and fight for control through a series of different positions.

So! In summary, I want to see fewer fictional duelists wrenching their arms and shoulders by struggling to physically shove someone via sword, and more elaborate and flashy maneuvers as they negotiate via swordplay who's on top.

MONTANTE ANECDOTE TIME:

Because the weapon I prefer and click with more is a giant fuckin sword, I am not very good with binding. This was actually the first instance I noted of my greatsword stuff influencing my longsword stuff; when meeting another sword, I have a tendency to try and swing straight through it instead of arresting momentum to meet in the bind. With a montante, this is very easily done, because of the greater weight and momentum, and in fact a big component of the style; you're meant to be constantly in motion to maintain momentum, and you knock weapons away and then swing back around for the second hit. Trying to suddenly stop a montante is how you hurt yourself.

With a longsword, this has mixed results. Benefits: most longsword fencers aren't expecting me to do that, because it's the type of shit a beefy fella very confident in his strength would do, and I am only slightly more intimidating than a pasta noodle. So it sometimes tricks them into trying to react to a bind that doesn't come, and sometimes places my sword out of reach before they know what's happening, and if I am correctly maintaining my own momentum and being smart I can get the hit. Cons: it moves my sword out of position, and when I'm not presenting a threat I get hit. Additionally, if I meet one of those aforementioned beefy fellas and try this I may just get stopped cold, and then I have to wind. Figuring out how to implement this more purposefully than instinctively is on my to-do list as soon as it's cool enough to put on all of my padded sparring gear again.

[rayroseu]

『 i hate you beastie 』

this is based on the scene where maleficent was unnecesarily hating upon first meeting aurora.

and also the Great War by Taylor Swift—

For this scenario??? I imagine that both Malenoa and Levan and Silver Owls all died during that ambush on the Princess' castle, leaving only Lilia and Silver behind on its ruins.

If the case that Silver is from the enemy's nation, then doesn't Lilia had every reason to dislike Silver and even just... straight up murder him— because after all, Silver Owls was the reason "his wings were cut off" (if we parallel it to what happened in Maleficent ).

But he didnt 💥 and ISTG that is the question that I really really REALLY want to get answered in Book 7--- WHEN DID LILIA AND SILVER MEET ‼️💥

I really like the fact of Silver seeing through Lilia's hardened attitude towards him— like he knows deep down Lilia relates to this kid abandoned by war , and despite his harsh words, he couldn't swing his weapon so easily to him— very unlike of how at ease he was killing this baby's supposed soldiers—

I think its nice (and tearjerking) to think that after that war only Silver (despite being a baby) was the one "who listened to his cries"

And at that point, maybe Lilia realizes that this human and him are not so different

I think the theme of the white rabbit is so fitting for what's happening in Book 7— White Rabbit centered about running on time— last update was about Lilia hurrying back to the castle hoping he'll make it in time to save Malenoa. Because Book 7 deals heavily with "running out of time" angst, I wonder if his wish in this dream was that he was on time in saving Malenoa.

Sometimes, I wish to see Lilia breaking down in game 😂 even though i knowww he canonically hates appearing to be weak ARGH.... 😔😔

does he cry at night thinking about why hes the only one who survived amongst the three of them... does he blame himself for not being on time, for being not cautious enough to forsee the enemy's plan was to kill and not make peace...

i am ill and need of answers but until after august??? I'll remain in this suffering KHDJAJS

[felassan]

Just poring over some of the new images. ◕‿◕

Combat shot, with the Ability Wheel open. Elf sword and shield Warrior Rook (cape and flowing hair!!!), Harding and Bellara fight a red lyrium ogre. Compared to early game, like here, more abilities and parts of the ability wheel are unlocked. The display advises that the ogre is vulnerable to fire damage and resistant to what looks like necrotic[?] damage, which we know is a thing (and it makes sense why that wouldn't affect darkspawn much). The purple and bronze color theme of the game is evident in the display. The bottom three icons must be Rook's current skills. The icons on the right are Bellara's, the left Harding's. I wonder if the bar at the bottom is Rook's 'special resource' bar? (the one that is Momentum for rogues) Then, in the bottom left, I guess the green bar is Rook's HP, along with notification that Rook currently has three health potions[?]. It looks like right on the d-pad consumes a health potion, while down on the d-pad could maybe be swap weapon set? We can see that both Harding and Bellara have access to a healing skill. In the bottom right, we have the option to navigate, change target, select, close and cancel.

It's interesting looking at the buttons for different skills and actions and trying to figure out what they are based on what the symbols could represent. ^^ Highlighted is a skill of Harding's called "Shred". The display advises the damage amount, cooldown time and general effects applied by that skill. It staggers enemies and looks like it sunders armor. I wonder if in this shot, the player has hovered over Shred on the wheel (purple light highlighting it, info popup on that specific skill). Then, the system helpfully auto-advises what other skills the party have right now that would make a combo with Shred (amber arrow, top skill of Bellara's being highlighted in amber) - a handy suggestion. It also explains why it makes a combo, namely that a certain effect of that skill of Bellara's combines with the sunder effect of Harding's Shred. With the symbol and name of Shred, I guess the idea is that Harding fires a shot that shreds through an enemy's flesh. :>

As for where they are fighting in.. the growths on the walls and black tentacle-looking things could be rubble and roots, but they remind me of Blight corruption in general and such as we see here, and well, there is an ogre. The gold on the floor and the shape of the gold patterns on the wall gives ancient elvhen ruins. There is also a plinth of some kind in the middle of the room. I wonder if this could be this area and battle mentioned in the Game Informer cover article:

"After a few more combat sections, including against a Frenzied sentinel, we reach the center of the temple. In there is an artifact called the Nadas Dirthalen. Bellara knows that this means “the inevitability of knowledge”. Before we can progress, a darkspawn ogre boss attacks, hitting hard with unblockable, red-coded attacks and a massive shield that you need to take down first. It is weak to fire After defeating it (it’s a climactic arena fight), Bellara uses a special crystal to power the artifact and remove it from the pedestal, which destroys the Veil Bubble."

This ogre has a shield next to its HP-type bar and this room could feasibly be an 'arena'-like area. The plinth in the room could be the pedestal. Bellara is present at that point in the game as here, and the aforementioned temple is an ancient elvhen space.

Btw, Bellara's backpack is so cute.

Harding's party icon has her staring off to the distance, scout-like, ever looking forward, while I feel like Bellara is looking into my soul!

Combat shot. Mage qunari Rook, Bellara and Neve. The Ability Wheel is not opened. It looks to me like Rook here has the same overcoat on as qunari Rook here. The party are fighting red lyrium darkspawn. In the bottom left, the possible 'change weapon' button has a different symbol; where previously it was a sword and shield because warrior Rook, here it looks like a staff (for mage Rook). At the bottom, in the possible 'Rook's special resource' bar, where previously in the prior shot it was empty, for this shot it looks to be fully charged. (and here it would be mana as Rook is a mage)

It looks like a meteor has just struck the earth, sending darkspawn flying. Rook, here a mage, has an ability where its symbol looks like an asteroid or meteor. I think this Rook has just cast the new spell Meteor, which was mentioned in the June 14th Discord Q&A:

"Fireball and Cone of Cold do not specifically return as spells in this game, but their successors do: Meteor and Frost Nova. These two abilities serve the exact same combat role and function as the previous two, only “with quite the glow-up”, especially Meteor. It is “so satisfying nuking a group of darkspawn with a well-placed Meteor”."

And in this screenshot, we can see why. :D

It also looks like there is a skill that can only be cast when Rook has two 'blue bubbles'-worth full on their Mana bar. And, I wonder what the purple bird symbol skill is?

To the right, next to the wagon and crates, it looks like there may be a chest we could loot. Crates and wagon left from previous Veil Jumper excursions?

The enemies here just have plain old HP bars (red color), no armor or barrier or anything on top of it. Compare the ogre in the previous shot which has an 'armor' bar with a yellow-orange color.

Location: This is Arlathan Forest. In the distance is ancient elvhen ruins and architecture, the floating rocks in areas with Fade 'warping', and trees, some which look to have the orange foliage of that area. The pink iridescent hazy light gives a whimsical feel like Game Informer described, and recalls the iridescence you see on soap bubbles. It makes me think that 'wall' of light is the edge of this particular Veil bubble. I think this shot is set in the opening four hours of the game, after the gameplay reveal video and in the section following that described by Game Informer. In the distance is the elven temple that the team are fighting towards (inside there would be Nadas Dirthalen and the ogre fight).

One question I have is is what is the blue orb thing in the distance, just beyond the fiery arc of the meteor? A piece of ancient elven tech? Part of how Veil Jumpers navigate around?

To reach it, we must remove the floating rock rings, and Bellara’s unique ability, Tinker, can do just that by interacting with a piece of ancient elven technology nearby

I wonder if this orb thing is one of those pieces of tech Bellara can perform tinker on. ^^

Combat shot. Human rogue rook and Harding fight in the streets of Minrathous in the opening section of the game. Look at the water effects of raindrops hitting the ground, and the reflections!! They are fighting demons, which are redesigned in this game. You can see the raw veins of their exposed 'nervous systems'. Maybe these are what Shades look like now? ^^ their lil swords are new.

Looking at the arrangement of five skills in this shot and the last one, I wonder if the button on the bottom left is the 'auto-attack' one? Here it's just some arrows (archer Rook), in the previous shot with mage Rook it looks like it could be a mage staff or a mage staff in the process of doing a basic attack.

In the upper background in the center of this picture, that blue light icon is the Inquisition hairy eyeball. What does this indicate? The critpath we need to follow to progress?

The vases and hanging pots make this street feel lived in. The height of the buildings and slant of them make the streets feel closed-in and claustrophobic. It's a neat vibe, living in Minrathous if you aren't one of the upper classes probably feels quite hemmed in and oppressive like that.

The team has taken the lore and art direction seriously and with care, you can tell. :) down to things like the shape of Tevinter doorways and the shape and red glow of Tevinter windows. It's very cool!!

Arlathan Forest, known from a file name. Qunari Rook (looks like a mage), Bellara, and Emmrich explore an overgrown ancient elvhen ruin. Beautiful golden light, sun dapples and beams through leaves, branches or vines hanging down, crumbling cobbles, broken walls, the shiny gold patterning and curving shapes and arches of ancient elvhen architecture (even the cobbles were laid in curves). This shot is beautiful, the game looks beautiful. ^^ I'm so looking forwards to exploring ancient elven places in this game and finding out more elf lore, and I can't wait to hear what insights and thoughts Bellara has to offer in these locales. Emmrich looks so polite here hh.

In the foreground is a statue of a hart or halla. As with here, it looks to be an asset from DA:I (example of one in Ghilan'nain's Grove in that game).

Arlathan Crater, known from a file name. A beautiful scenic shot, no party visible. (If Photo Mode does indeed end up being a thing in this game.. think of the potential :D) Ancient elven ruins and two halla, in a way that reminds me of the elven ruin Bellara appears in during the character trailer.

Mage qunari Rook, Davrin (yayy!!) and Bellara. I'm sounding like a broken record here but just look at all the fine details. Scratches on Davrin's shield, detailing on clothes like textures, patterns and stitches.. how cool Rook's staff is (could this staff be a Warden mage staff? the feathery design reminds me of Davrin's Warden griffon shield), Bellara's many pouches, the magical particle effects lighting up Bellara's gauntlet-bow. ^^ The team here are in some dark, overgrown, ominous and twisted looking place, and they are threatened again by the red lyrium darkspawn. To the right of Bellara's head and behind her bow, you can see pustules of Blight/Taint corruption. It also looks like there is a lantern near Bellara's head hanging from a post, a lantern with grey metal wings. Maybe this shot was taken in a Warden locale, like the outskirts of Weisshaupt or something?

A beautiful shot of Bellara using her magical gauntlet. Comparing the vegetation here (with the red patches) to that in the 'two halla' shot, it looks like this shot is also taken in Arlathan Forest / Crater somewhere. I wonder if this shot shows Bellara in the middle of using her ability "Tinker"? She's looking at something and the gauntlet is lit up like its magic is interacting with something.

[josephquinnswhore]

it ain’t weakness, baby - joel miller x female reader

Summary: Joel survived Abby’s brutal encounter, but has left him with major mental and physical disabilities.

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: mentions of reader having ptsd, blood, amputation, scars, disabilities, murder. blowjob, Joel whining and begging????? cumming in mouth. female masterbation/orgasm. Joel praising reader. insecurity. Joel treating reader like shit. implied age gap.

Note: yeah.. I kinda ruined my own heart with this one.. anyway, enjoy!

Things weren’t the same. They’ll never be the same. That’s what Joel said, over and over. Saying anything he could in order to push you away, to try and build back the wall between you that you’d seamlessly picked away at.. brick by brick all them years ago.

His old age wasn’t his hinderance. His physical disability wasn’t his hindrance. Though, these were his painful claims, that he couldn’t bare to see your youth wasted on someone like him. A no good—worthless old cripple. That’s what he called himself..

“You’re wasting the best years of your life on me! There are plenty of healthy and capable men that could take care of you here! Just.. just go and find someone else!” He’d spat through gritted teeth, his insecurity gnawing at his insides after he saw a younger man offering your hand at the Christmas dance.

Joel Miller had sunken into the dark and ever falling abyss of self destruction and isolation, daring to say cruel things to you, to push you away.

He’ll never admit it’s the last thing he truly wanted, in fact he was terrified of the thought of you leaving.

One day he found out what you did.

“Tell me you’re not that stupid.” He insults, glaring at you from the recliner he’d come so attached to.

“I did. Tommy and Ellie and I, we fucking did it Joel. They’re dead, all of them, we made them suffer. I made her suffer before I buried her sorry ass for ever touching you!” The argument was bound to get heated, after all, they were talking about the girl that mutilated Joel and left him disabled.

“Do you realise what she could’ve done to you? Look at what she did to me!” He snarled. “Goddamn fools the lot of you!”

He didn’t want you to leave, to stop fighting for him. But he convinced himself he was worthless. He saw it; the looks people gave him, sympathy strewn on their faces. Sympathy he didn’t need. He was fine.

It was the irony of it all. He told himself he was fine, he didn’t need help, he could somehow maintain some semblance of control and independence. No matter the wheelchair, or the crutches. Yet, he would snarl and snap at you, unwilling to keep you close. He would angrily claim he was worthless, useless.

“I can do it!” He growls, shrugging off your hand from the metal crutches, his first time using them as a result of his amputated leg. Refusing any help, as he had done every single day for the past few months.

Perhaps at one point, you did grow tired of it. Of his inability to try. After months of trying and limited resources, you’d tried to teach Joel how to write again, how to play guitar, how to sculpt, how to fix.

“Baby come on, please! Just try again for me. Five more minutes then I promise we can stop.” You pleaded, and were met with a dismissive snarl.

“I ain’t no damn kid so stop treating me like one. I’m done with this!” The pen was sent flying, ink splattering all over his favourite journal, which you’d spent a few hours delicately cleaning to save the important book.

You were trying to get him to live. To have the independence he so desperately craved, but he was stubborn, always had been. He was his own worst enemy.

You were even kind enough to take the only spare time you had, to build him a wheelchair accessible ramp, it was weeks worth of labour, and trading a tonne of sentimental personal items to trade for the wood and nails. Yet, it remains unused, even now, as it rains and the snow coats the wood, they begin to rot and wither. All your hard work and dedication to your husband had gone completely unnoticed.

Yet, for some reason, you never quit on him.

“Stop scowlin at me like that and just try, would you?”

He grunted, his hand trembled, the majority of his soup fell off the spoon. With whatever strength he had, he tossed the spoon onto the floor, as it clattered along the wood, it sends soup flying all up the wall. The bowl soon clatters to the ground before you can catch it.

The bowl was heavy, and the sound of it on the hardwood floors sent your movements to a halt—frozen. Your ears ringing as if it were that forsaken shotgun again, tearing a hole through Joel’s leg, flesh and blood splattering against the carpet rug and the floor. Stumbling, you take a moment to yourself, rushing out of the living room and into the kitchen.

The noise over and over replaying in your mind, the golf club coming down on Joel’s head, sure you would witness the love of her life being brutally murdered in front of your eyes. What Joel didn’t know, as far as he assumed, that you had these triggers as a result of ptsd.

The ticking of the clock in the kitchen becomes unbearable and you find yourself back in the living room.

Waiting for you, is another mess of his you’d have to clean.

“It feels like you’re not even trying anymore Joel. It’s been months—why can’t you see I’m trying to help you!” You insist.

“I don’t need your help!” He growled bitterly.

“So you’re just going to sit in that stupid fucking chair till you die huh? Is that it?” Finally reaching the breaking point after your recent trigger, tears cascade down your red cheeks.

His scowl softened, into a look she hadn’t seen since the incident happened. He battles his ego and his stubbornness to finally reach a hand out to you, his shaking fingers just graze your own.

“Baby—you know I don’t mean it.” He murmurs hopelessly. “I’m—I’m sorry. I appreciate you tryin’.”

The atmosphere changes in the air, the winter suddenly doesn’t feel so harsh, and the breeze that slides through the crack in the window frame can’t be felt over the warmth of the heater that Joel nests by.

You kneels down onto the floor, taking his trembling hand. “I’m not giving up on you. When we took our marriage vows I fucking meant them. Just let me be here for you. It’s killing me that you’re trying to push us apart. Please.”

For some reason, your plea pierced his old heart with such reverence that he doesn’t argue, he relaxes his tense shoulders and murmurs, “okay.”

Finally, acceptance, peace. The white flag was being waved. Seventy two days of fighting was finally over.

“Shouldn’t be.. on your knees like that baby. You—you’ll get sick.” The worry in his voice had another kind of anxiety behind it.

One that you soon found the reasoning of.. his cock.. stiffer in his pants than you’d seen it in months. “Don’t tell me you’ve been suffering all this time.” You gasp in disbelief.

His aimless gaze and silence was enough to confirm the accusation. He’d been so sexually frustrated.. that he hadn’t been able to cum.

“This is why you’ve been so upset.” You murmurs. “Isn’t it?”

He answers with a simple and shameful nod, you press a kiss to his hand, ready to offer him a solution. “Can.. Can I help you?”

The question takes him off guard, his thick and greying eyebrows meet together in a low frown.

“Why would you want to touch me? I’m .. I’m a goddamn freak—“

“You shut up and let me decide what I see you as Joel Miller.” You scold. “I see someone strong, brave, handsome.”

He scoffs, but it doesn’t deter you. Instead it only motivates you more. Leaning up against the recliner, your chest on the left side meets the fabric, where his leg had to be amputated from the thigh downward, due to the inflicted shotgun wound.

“I see a man so incredibly capable, of living, thriving. Needing help doesn’t make you weak, baby. Let me take care of you.”

His trembling hands struggle to unclasp the stubborn button on his jeans. “Hey, just let me look after you baby. Relax.” You insist softly.

Making quick work of his button and zipper, your cool and small hands make his cock look enormous as it springs out of his jeans, rock hard. Has it always been this big? Perhaps the illusion of deprivation has her mind as desperate as her dripping cunt. Even your mouth begins to salivate, gulping as you come eye level with the small clear bead of precum.

Without warning, you lurch forward, pressing a small kiss to the red and aching tip, before swirling your tongue around the bulbous head.

“Ah, ah fuck baby,” he whines, sharply inhaling a breath, his good hand moves to grip the back of your head, begging for you to swallow him.

His desperate pleas only serve the purpose of rilling you up, with the gentle touch of his fingertips in your hair, desperately clutching at a fistful of your hair..

Opening your mouth wider to fit his enormous girth, halfway down and you’re already gagging. He whimpers, sounding the most vulnerable she’s heard since their last intimate encounter. Sneakily, you slide a hand down to your entrance, sliding your fingers inside to collect some of the slick before, sliding them upwards towards your enlarged and throbbing clit. whine is muffled by his cock.

You push on, feeling the mushroom tip sliding down your throat as you gag, covering his cock in your warm and sticky saliva. His untamed coarse public hairs tickle your nose.

The noises were absolutely despicable and lewd, the way you took the whole length of him, gagging at every descend, it was a sensation that had him trembling underneath you. His trembling hand attempts to clutch the arm of the recliner.

“Baby, baby stop.” He begged. “Not.. I’m not gonna last.” His breath quickens and as he tensed up, you take his length out of your mouth, but he quickly thrusts back into it, craving the warmth and the pleasure of the hole.

“Don’t stop, hmph please don’t stop.” He pleaded in a whine, Joel Miller, begging you.

You felt your stomach tightening, the pleasure of your fingers on your soaking clit, swirling at the perfect pace and Joel’s soft voice begging. You moan around his cock as your legs tremble underneath you.

Joel finally catches on and it’s the last straw for him before he throws his head back onto the recliner and grunts, the growl that leaves his lips is primal and comes from his throat. “Fuck—such a good girl.” He stutters and thrusts his hips upward, filling your mouth and throat with him, sending his ropes of warm cum straight down your throat, you drink, like it’s the last source of energy you’ll ever receive.

His hand unclenches from your hair as he feels himself shrinking inside of your mouth, encouraging you to look up at him, and you do. You’re met with Joel, looking at you with all the love and adoration and affection you deserve.

“Come here baby.” He murmurs, his thumb caresses your cheek as you look up at him. Climbing up onto his lap, you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Could.. could you please pull the recliner back?” His voice escapes timidly. Here he was, asking for your help; finally.

With a swift movement, you pull on the latch on the side of the recliner and the bottom end swings upward, now you’re both laying, your hand reaches for a warm blanket on the nearby couch, and toss it over the two of you.

“Thanks for not giving up on me.” The world circle in her ears, and she runs her thumb over the large scar on his forehead that spans to his temple and eyebrow. “I wouldn’t ever dream of it.”

“I love you, Mrs Miller.” Is the last thing your happy heart hears before your eyes flutter, peace and pleasure lulling you into a dream.

[fanaticsnail]

Oh shit the Yandere Doflamingo and that scene from Beauty & the Beast "If she doesn't eat with me, she doesn't eat at all." is so Doffy 🫠

Extra points if he calls her "princesa" which is Spanish (in OP world it would be Dressrosan I guess?) for princess. It has this very nice sound in Spanish.

Extra extra points if he never called any previous royalty by their title bcs why should a Celestial Dragon call anyone royalty? He's the only real royalty! (in his head) But then he calls reader princess (not putting the Reader's name after the title bcs it's still Doffy) It acts as an endearment mostly, but the servants & his crew are like "are we dreaming, did he actually call a princess princess, wtf is happening?"

Would be even better if he sometimes called her "mi princesa" (my princess) he'd be so comforting and such a KIND KING with her.

We need a scene where he gets on a bent knee and takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. Maybe when he saves her from an assassin from the enemy that ruined her country, assuring her nobody will hurt her in Dressrosa? He could cover her eyes with his hand so she doesn't see him decapitate the man after he gets all the information out of him.

Doffy can 100% pretend to be a nice guy the thing is how much patience does he have to endure it ie the time period, cus I think the mask falls of quick if he isn't careful. Though, he was called a charming devil... But yeah, he'll need to tone everything else down around Reader. It'd be so funny.

Not that he'll let his princess escape the gilded cage of strings he spent his time weaving around her even after she sees the reality of the King of Dressrosa...

Maybe she sees him decapitate one of the dukes that got on his nerves? Maybe she hears how he snaps at Violet when she suggests Reader is a "spoiled princess" in an attempt to save her and Doflamingo grabs her by the throat and squeezes her neck and nearly breaks it from absolute rage.

"Yes, but that's how princesses are supposed to be. They can be like that because they have a strong king to protect them. Weak kings can't protect anything."

And then his guards catch his princess trying to flee the next night. How can she be so ungrateful and try to leave? He gave her everything! He wasn't even cruel! He was good with her!

Well, he knows the solution to that little escape attempt...

After all, kings can marry princesses, can't they...

And Dressrosa needs a queen. If she wants to keep his cruelty in check in court, perhaps she should just marry him... having her sit on his lap on his throne as he listens to the rabble of the dukes and whatnot would probably stay his fingers from twitching... His fingers would be too busy cradling her to do anything cruel.

Ugh, and maybe he always brings her pink roses or things she likes just as he always scoured for food for his mom... 😭😭😭 What if he always bends his knees and slouches his spine or sometimes when she is sitting in an armchair he squats to talk to her? What if he gets to finally talk about all the books he reads because Reader is such a great listener and the excitement on her face as she listens to him talk about the recent book he read makes him talk about it more just so he can have her smile all to himself... And then she reads a book she likes to him and he nearly falls asleep on her lap. His mother always read him books in Mariejois while little Doflamingo sat on her lap.

He'd be so protective of her, he wouldn't let her out of the palace unless he is with her or one of his executives. Beause when his mother left Mariejois, she got sick beause his father could not take care of her. His princess and his mother are both flowers that can only survive in the best garden, where they are tended to and spoiled by all the luxuries the world can provide. It's where they bloom the brightest.

Only in the garden of a god can flowers like his mother and Reader be safe and live life.

"Silly little thing... You won't last a day out there in that cruel, ruthless world. Stay here with your king."

Excuse me while I squeal and clutch at my heart. Prior yandere Doffy ask here.

Any time I hear "My princess," in any given context, all I see is this absolutely beautiful scene from The Mummy:

It just needs to be a fic, doesn't it? At the rate I'm falling for Doflamingo, it needs to be its own fic. Your prompt is spectacular, thank you so much for adding to the great simpening for the King of Dressrosa. The head in the lap, the reading to him as he slowly falls asleep: my heart can simply not take such sweetness and softness from the king.

This is so incredibly romantic, thank you for steering me in a direction I need to go in for it. There's so many things I want to write for this lanky man: the marine doctor in impel down, yandere Doffy, his Sapsorrow spinoff with Rosinante, kissing booth kisses, I love him. Send help.

[adventuringblind]

Let Me In, Please

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia AU

Summary: Bodyguard Oscar knows something isn't right, he just wasn't expecting it to be so wrong.

Warnings: Implied r@pe, gun violence, depictions of self-harm

Notes: The request was for Enemies to Lovers, and I tried that... I'm not sure this meets your expectations, but I still hope you like it, Nonny!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

How could she have been so stupid? This was supposed to be safe ground. An area she knows like the back of her hand. All she had to do was walk down the street to Oscar's apartment.

She tried calling him, but he didn't answer. The anxious part of her mind thought the worst.

Yeah, he certainly got on her nerves sometimes. Worse than her brother at times, but he knew when to give her space. Their friendship has been long and drawn out, but he'd do anything for her. He'd made that much clear. Regardless of how she pushed him away.

So, she didn't push anymore, instead she pulled... him down to kiss her.

Most nights he's stay at her place. The dangers of having a brother who runs her father's legacy: everybody is watching for a weak point.

Carlos had been it for her. The one who raised her with the untimely passing of their parents. But then he got busy, so he stuck her with Oscar.

At the time she thought Carlos had just gotten tired of having his little sister around. She knows better now and doesn't lash out at the Aussie for something that isn't his fault.

One block to his apartment. The longest, most difficult walk of her life. Her body hurts, clothes ruined, and skin dirty from his hands. She had no idea who he was, just that her own place isn't safe anymore. Not since he knew her name and managed to completely shatter a window to get in.

She's a mess. The dark streets not helping her mind.

The stairs almost kill her. Her muscles ache from fighting, the bruises rub against her clothes in all the wrong ways.

She reaches the door but hesitates to knock. The sinister thoughts in her head don't want to leave her alone.

She fixes her appearance. A little less wrecked than she looked previously, maybe enough to pass off a nightmare and some stupid anxiety.

She knocks. Oscar answers, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looks surprised to see her, but the sleepy smile shows her he isn't upset about it.

He pulls her inside and offers her a mug of hot chocolate. Her favorite concoction of his. It's a drug that soothes her aching soul from the mess she's created.

He takes a seat next to her on the couch. "So, what brings you here so late?"

"Nightmare... you didn't answer your phone so I thought maybe something happened." She avoids his gaze. Eye's studying her, determing if he should push for more information.

"You're brother would kill me if he knew you walked here alone."

"He would also kill you if he knew that we're dating."

"Fair point."

Oscar lends her his clothes to sleep in and tucks her into bed. He's still awake, watching over her dutifully, even as her mind drifts into the peacefulness of sleep.

♤♡◇♧

Oscar doesn't like to snoop. Well, sometimes it's fun, but not when he's investigating the apartment of someone he loves.

Something is off, and he's going to figure it out. Her restless slumber and nails digging into her skin only helped co fin his thoughts.

He'd dropped her with Carlos and went right to her apartment. Only to find the door left open and window shattered.

Why hadn't she told him someone had broken in? Unless it was worse than that... but that wouldn't make sense.

Suspicions confirmed, Oscar heads back to get his lover. Hopefully, not to pissed at her brother. Their one-sided arguments have been getting worse. Enough for him to see how it's exhausting her.

She wants her brother, and he sends her away. She tries to comfort him, and he pushes her away. Enough to get aggressive on a few occasions when he's particularly peeved.

It's been a half hour, so the damage can't be too bad. Oscar speeds his way to Carlos' office, where both of them should be. Anxious to make sure she doesn't feel the need to slip back into old habits.

Oscar and her have been through the ringer with each other. He's seen the worst parts of her and made it a point to love her regardless.

To strong for some, to weak for her brother. It's astounding how cruel people are when they are intimidated by someone. Oscar feels comfortable knowing she can put a bullet through a skull.

Even so, it's jarring when he finds the office door wide open. Carlos is pacing back and forth, ranting to himself in Spanish.

Oscar still knocks before he just waltz in unannounced. He'd rather not get shot. Thank you very much.

"Mr. Sainz?" Oscar doesn't flinch when Carlos whips around and jabs a finger in his direction.

"Don't you dare leave my sister alone again."

Okay, he's a bit taken aback at that. "Sir?"

"I've been notified one of my men was at her apartment last night." Carlos slaps a file of images on the desk.

Oscar has to grit his teeth. The story they depict makes his heart shatter and anger course through his veins.

"I want him dead."

"Understood sir."

He walks out of the office, shoulders squared. Nobody gets to mess with his girl like that.

♤♡◇♧

The cold tile against her body is oddly numbing. It's familiar, a home when her emotions get too much.

Carlos showed her the photos. It hurt enough to make her sick. The bile burning her throat at having to relive the events of last night. The yelling hadn't helped either. Another mess for her brother to clean up.

The blade lays discarded next to her. The blood from her thigh staining the pristine white floor. The sting makes it better. Deserved for causing such a problem. Neccecary for removing the tainted skin. At least what she can for now.

She bleeds away the sins others have committed against her.

The door opens. She doesn't look to see who it is. She already knows. He's wearing his work boots. The ones she's come to be familiar with through this position.

Despite the sleek black color. She can vaugley make out the spots of red.

It's intimate, in a way, how Oscar cleans the blood from both of them simultaneously. He scrubs it off his hands and disinfect her thighs. He uses gentle movements to bandage the deep wounds. Barely moving her in the process.

She hadn't even noticed she was crying. Not until he sits down with her. Careful not to touch her in a way she wouldn't like right now.

She breaks when he bleaches the tiles. The red disappears like it has never been there.

The choked sobs wrack her body. Silent scream, mourning something that was taken from her. The burning in her thighs is a solid reminder of the atrocities she's plauged her brother and Oscar with

Always the problem, never the solution.

"Can I hold you?" His soft voice doesn't help her tears.

"Why would you want to do that? I'm just another - I don't know - dirty problem for you and my brother to deal with?"

Oscar holds his hand out for her to take. She reaches for him hesitantly. She knows Oscar would never hurt her. Not when he shoots anyone who does.

"You are not dirty. You are not a problem. I may joke about it, but I wouldn't have anyone else making my days interesting like you do." Oscar places a soft kiss to the top of her head. "You're the best problem I could've asked for."

"But, I feel gross now." She chokes on her air, suffocating on the feeling of that man's hands on her skin.

"I know it'll be hard, but I also know that you are strong. I'll be there for you when you need me. When you need me to compliment you, when you need to sit in the shower and was away the feelings, hell, even if you punch something, just tell me. Though I'd prefer you not punch me."

"You're not going to leave?"

"Love, I'm your problem. You're stuck with me."

"I guess we can be problems together then."

"Nah, you're not a problem. Just the love of my life."

She rests her head on Oscar's shoulder, hands still intertwined. It's small, but comfortable for now.

She knows Oscar won't push her. He'll be there when she's ready.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are Weird: The Horrors of War

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The small village was little more than kindling now. Repeated cannons had vaporized what defenses the enemy militia had erected before the attack had even commenced and after the bombardment the majority of those who could fight ran. A few attempted to put up a fight but by then the alliance forces were just mopping up the remnants.

Jimbari stepped carefully over the still cindering rumble as his squad made for the center of the village. A was thankful the helmet filters were still working and absorbing most the stench otherwise he would not have been able to make it three feet with his people’s overly heightened sense of smell.

Taking a look around the ruins he wondered why his team was even here to begin with. Command had ordered them to support the terran advance along the front but the Terrans had never requested assistance before. To the contrary, they seemed more inclined to keep their allies away from their section of the front. Yet command was insistent that this time a Jimbari’s squad help them regardless of the terran’s intentions.

Climbing a small mound of bricks Jimbari lost his footing and stumbled down the other side harshly. He could hear his squad coming over to him as he swept the dust off himself only to find himself face to face with a terran soldier pointing a compact launcher right at his face.

“Callsign.”  The human spoke with authority. Jimbari could hear the footsteps of his men reaching the top of the mound he had just fallen down but the terran never took his eyes off Jimbari.

Quickly holding up a hand for caution to his own men before they mistook the situation Jimbari responded “Red Frank.”

The terran kept his gun pointed at him for a few moments more before pointing it away and offering a hand.

“Sorry about that,” they said as Jimbari took the offered hand and hoisted himself up, “can’t be too careful these days.”

“A wise precaution.” Jimbari replied smoothly as if the terran had not almost killed him. “Lesser warriors have fallen victim to such lack of caution.” The terran grunted acknowledgement and then let out a high pitched whistle.

From the surrounding buildings emerged an entire platoon of terran soldiers. Covered in dirt, mud, dust that expertly camouflaged them; Jimbari was thankful he was able to defuse the situation before a lethal firefight broke out.

From the corner of his eye he watched his own men lower their weapons and slide down the hill to join him as the human who had pointed the gun at him held up a hand in a weak salute.

“Lieutenant Mccao of the 31st.”

“Sunrunner Jimbari of the Scar brands.” Jimbari replied as the pair began walking together to the center of the town.

“We were told we had some reinforcements coming, but command failed to mention what you all looked like; just a call sign to be answered.” Mccao informed Jimbari. He noticed that even though they were now surrounded by both their respective warriors this Mccao kept his eyes watching the surrounding ruins and his hands clenched tight around his weapon; a truly battle hardened warrior indeed.

“Would you have killed us if I had given it wrong?” Jimbari replied amusingly, but was shocked when the lieutenant nodded.

“Out here mistakes get you killed.” They replied coldly. “If you’d have given the wrong answer you and your whole lot would’ve been dead before your body hit the floor.”

“Such alertness is to be…” Jimbari began but found himself unable to find the right words. He’d never fought alongside allies who could so easily kill without hesitation. Thankfully the terran cut in before the silence became more awkward.

“You can save the dick sucking for someone who cares; let’s just get this done.”

Jimbari was going to ask what they meant when they finally reached the village center. The perimeter of the area was encircled by a couple terran soldiers each facing outwards being overseen by an officer whom Mccao broke off from Jimbari to go and speak with.

 Lined up against the village chief’s home were several locals all bound and on their hands and knees. None of them appeared clean and they looked as if they were the only ones to have survived the short run battle through their community. There were even a couple of infantile ones clinging to what he assumed were their birth givers and weeping as the birth givers spoke softly to them.

He pointed to the infantile ones bound in rope. “Why are they held like this?”

Mccao looked over his shoulder and followed Jimbari’s eye line to the captives.

“Survivors from the battle,” Mccao replied dryly, “we’ve just finished questioning them.”  Jimbari was unsatisfied with the answer and pressed the issue.

“Why are the…what is your word….”Children”, held like that?”

The terran Lieutenant looked at him surprised as if the answer was simple. “All designated combatants are to be detained for questioning; no exceptions.”

Jimbari could not believe himself. “Since when are children combatants?” he demanded of the terran.

“Since one of them walked up to me friend and detonated a plasma grenade they had in their pocket.”

The answer was harsh as it was truthful. Jimbari could see the pain of the moment in question that haunted him burning behind the terran’s eyes. This warrior had seen things that could not easily be forgotten.

Unsure how to proceed, Jimbari changed topic. “Have you learned anything useful?” To which Mccao shook his head.

“Imperial forces pulled out of here three days ago and left the militia here as a rearguard.” The Lieutenant answered. “They didn’t think they could hold out long so half the weapons they got were sparking scrap.”

As if to emphasize his point he kicked over the broken remains of an Imperial plasma rifle. Jimbari looked at the weapon’s remains and could tell there had been a power overload causing the blast of super-heated plasma to backfire into the wielders face rather than expelling from the elongated barrel.

“What can we assist you with then?” Jimbari asked the Lieutenant.

The Lieutenant looked at the prisoners then at his second who gave a shrug before turning back to Jimbari.

“Like I said, we’re pretty finished up here but there is one thing you could do.” They pointed at the gathered prisoners who were now being dragged backwards and placed against a wall.

“Kill them.”

Jimbari looked at the terran in confusion then tapped his helmet several times; sure that his translator unit had malfunctioned.

“Kill them?” Jimbari asked as if he had heard wrong, but Mccao nodded.

“Yes, all of them.” He said as he waved his hand across the gathered lot of prisoners.

From behind him Jimbari saw his men looking uncomfortable as they heard the terran’s order.

“But they are noncombatants; innocents.” Jimbari countered. The terran surprised him by laughing and wiping a hand across his dirt covered face.  

“This is war; innocence is always the first thing to die.”

From the corner of his eye Jimbari could see the humans who had been watching the perimeter had turned around and now encircled the lot of them. Turning back to the lieutenant he saw the human’s hand had quietly flicked the safety off their weapon; their trigger finger resting slightly against the guard.

“I can see you are looking at this from a morality perspective so allow me to give you a taste of the real world.”

Walking over to one of the younger prisoners clutching to their birth giver, they grabbed them and dragged them over before Jimbari. The birth giver cried out and tried to stop the terran only for one of their soldiers to step forward and drive the butt of their weapon into their chest sending them to the dirt hard.

“Stop this!” Jimbari demanded as the Lieutenant grabbed hold of the little one’s face and forced them to look up at Jimbari.

“You see this little fucker?” Mccao said as he tightened his grip making the young one cry. “This little guy here just watched us blow the fuck out of his dad.”

With his rifle he pointed over to a nearby corpse lying against a wall. It was riddled with puncture wounds from where the bullets entered and part of the face had peeled away leaving it hanging limply in the breeze.

“Pretty much everyone here we killed was from this village and these are most likely their families.” The terran continued.

“They are militia so that makes sense; but-“ Jimbari continued but the terran cut them off.

“So tell me then; what do you think this little kid here will grow up remembering of his childhood? Do you think it’ll be going down to the river with their friends to fish? Or maybe about that crush they had with their neighbor? Or, now this is a wild one, how some alien monsters came into their village and murdered their family and friends?”

The young one said nothing as they struggled in the terran’s grip. Streams of yellow tears running from their pores as they wept much like their birth giver who still struggled to reach them. Jimbari fixed the terran with a cold stare that had made his men quake in fear.

“Put the young one down.” Jimbari demanded, his hand tightening on the grip of his weapon now.

“So he can grow up and kill us later?” Mccao laughed. He brought the muzzle of his weapon up and pressed it against the head of the young one.

“I said PUT THEM DOWN!” Jimbari shouted. He brought his own weapon up to cover the terran as the two sides of former allies trained their weapons on each other. A chorus of shouts to disarm went back and forth as each Jimbari’s team and the terran platoon; neither side willing to lower their weapons.

“Careful now,” Mccao spoke, his voice thick with a dark menace, “with you acting all scary you wouldn’t want me to-“

Jimbari never heard the last bit as the loud discharge of the lieutenant’s weapon went off. He watched the head of the young one cave inwards from the bullet’s impact before shooting out the opposite side in a violent display of gore.

Roaring in rage, Jimbari made to pull the trigger of his own weapon before feeling several sharp pains throughout his chest. He looked down to see several puncture wounds dotting his armor that now spilled out his life blood.

Behind him he could hear the roar of terran weapons going off as the rest of his team was cut down like wheat before they could even retaliate. The terran’s had taken their time during the argument between Jimbari and Mccao to encircle the group and line up kill shots on the entire squad. His team were dead the moment Jimbari brought up his weapon.

Collapsing to his knees, Jimbari clutched his chest trying to stem the bleeding but there was little hope. He looked up to see the terrans turn around to their captives and unleash a lethal barrage of fire, killing them all as they begged for mercy.

Mccao stepped over to Jimbari and looked down at him; his expression a mixture of disappointment and indifference.

 “One day, you’re people will learn the realities of war.” They said as they brought up their weapon against Jimbari’s skull. “It’s a shame it wasn’t today.”

-------------------------- After Action Report 737 Location: Zenellie Village Statement from: Lieutenant Mccao. “We entered the town and cleared out the militia rather easily. They had little to defend themselves with so after we killed a few the rest surrendered too us. We had just gathered them in the center of the village for questioning when Sun Runner Jimbari arrived to support us.

Not long after Jimbari’s squad entering the square a series of explosions went off throughout the village. We dove for what cover we could find as new combatants emerged from the ruins of the village to engage us. I assume they had been hiding inside the village waiting to ambush us all when we were entirely surrounded.

Jimbari was ordering his squad to engage when he was cut down by the previously held captives. They had broken free of their bindings and had stolen several of our guns which they then turned on us while we had been distracted by the counter attack.

I would like it mentioned for the record that he and his men fought bravely, but were cut down by the villagers before we could intervene.  I saw him cut down by a young child of one of the villagers as they unloaded an entire clip into their chest before I got a shot off and took them down.

By the end of it the entire village was reduced to kindling and all of the villagers were dead. We did our best to recover the bodies of Jimbari and his men to be returned to their people for proper burial before heading back to our lines.

In light of such devastation, I would recommend that all captives be treated as dangerous combatants until this conflict is over. “

[mishy-mashy]

Things to note here:

Yoichi took Kudo's hand. Bakugo did not take Izuku's hand, and didn't want to.

Yoichi was willing to be helped and saved. Bakugo was not.

Kudo looks down on Izuku for being an idealistic, foolish boy that wants to save everyone—but Kudo is like that too.

He's idealistic to the point of being crazy, for wanting to save not only his enemy's brother, but to take down the strongest man in the world, and save Japan from being ruled by him.

Kudo can look down on Izuku for believing in, and wanting to help, Bakugo, his childhood bully and someone he should hate.

But Kudo is just like Izuku. Yoichi was someone he should've hated, but he couldn't actually do it, and reached out his hand to help him up.

IZUKU AND KUDO OUTSTRETCH THE SAME HAND

YOICHI'S BODY IS FACING KUDO. BAKUGO IS FACED AWAY, WITH ONLY HIS HEAD TURNED

Yoichi was willing to acknowledge and look at Kudo head on. Bakugo wasn't.

Bakugo was acknowledging his Quirked friends when Midoriya suddenly appeared on the scene. Midoriya wasn't supposed to have been there. Like how Kudo shouldn't have been able to find Yoichi's vault.

Even if Midoriya and Kudo were weak to society (Gearshift is not a strong Quirk then), the level of receptiveness is visible.

Yoichi is weak and has no idea who he is, but gives his attention and fully looks at him.

Bakugo is strong, popular, and knows Midoriya, but doesn't want his help because of that. Because he views Midoriya as below him, but Yoichi never thought that way: rather, Yoichi saw himself as weak.

Izuku and Kudo didn't have to help them. The two just wanted to.

They both wanted to help someone they should've hated.

But they couldn't bring themselves to.

Like Midoriya, Kudo believes in Yoichi's goodness, and doesn't see him for AFO's brother.

Kudo looks at Midoriya and calls him an idealistic, delusional fool. But Kudo is just looking at Midoriya and seeing his past self.

Kudo is idealistic, stubborn, and delusional like Midoriya. He too, believed in the goodness of others he should've hated.

This is why Kudo wants Midoriya to walk down the same path as him: Midoriya will run full-sprint, but he needs to have friends that can match him.

Kudo knows what Midoriya needs and has to do. Because he went through the same thing.

This could also be another reason why he shut up when Midoriya used Gearshift to save All Might. Because Kudo wanted to save Yoichi when it was illogical and would've ruined him, but he did it anyway. Just like Midoriya did.

The fact Izuku and Bakugo are in knee-deep water. Yoichi and Kudo aren't, but they definitely were when Yoichi died.

Izuku thought Bakugo's life was endangered, and asked if he was okay and needed help.

When Yoichi and Kudo are knee-deep, Kudo is holding his hand, and Yoichi's life is endangered. Not just himself, but Kudo.

Y'know what I think about that? Next point. Here you go, bkdk shippers.

Holding hands was them tying / joining their lives together.

Kudo offered that. Midoriya offered that.

Yoichi took it. Bakugo didn't. But he would in the future, when Midoriya offers it again. And when he does, Midoriya embodies Kudo's Quirk into it.

Kudo tries warning of the blowback of Gearshift, but sees Vestige-Might's flickering, and shuts up.

Maybe he was reminded of Yoichi or his comrades. His Quirk was being used to save someone, back when he couldn't do the same as he held someone's hand.

This time, rather than to get away from the danger, it was to approach the danger and save someone in AFO's grasp.

Bakugo = Kudo, Izuku = Yoichi

An idea you'll see around the BNHA fandom about these characters is that.

But instead, the panels flipped the ones holding out their hand. First it was Kudo, then it was Izuku.

If Bakugo held out his hand, Izuku would've taken it. Like how Yoichi took Kudo's.

But if Yoichi and Kudo swapped places and Yoichi held out his hand, Kudo wouldn't have taken it. Because Yoichi was the younger brother of the Demon Lord, and someone Kudo should hate.

If Bakugo took Midoriya's hand, or Yoichi rejected Kudo's, the story would've been much more different.