#shame is a weapon and /you need to be careful!!!!/

[selunesdreams]

Eating Crow, Chapter 29: The (After) Life of the Party

Pairing: Lucanis x Rook

Summary: Rook sees a different side of Illario. Lucanis helps Rook see a different side of intimacy.

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! chapter specific warnings in AO3 notes.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“Sit down.”

Illario thrust Rook towards the bed in one of the casino’s dimly lit guest rooms, her knees buckling as their backs hit the worn mattress. With a frustrated growl, she pushed herself up, only to be shoved down again. After two more tries, she remained seated, glaring at him as fury simmered in her gaze. He returned the look and folded his arms over his chest.

“Please.” She smoothed the anger coating her voice into something more desperate, her eyes pleading. “You brought me the man you believed responsible for my father’s death all those years ago. You knew how much I needed revenge, more than anyone. But you gave me the wrong man. And now the one truly responsible is within reach and you’d deny me retribution? He’s a threat to the Crows, to everyone we care for-”

“You are in no state to confront anyone, Fiammetta. You’re too emotional, you’ve had far too much to drink-”

“Since when did you become rational?” She sneered, wrapping her fingers around the carved ridges of the bedpost, and pulling herself to her feet. The tips of her fingernails dug through the wood’s finish as she carefully slid one foot forward, her heel scraping across the marbled floor with a screech. Her attempt to move with seductive grace was spoiled by the four glasses of champagne that swam in her blood, nagging at her joints and blurring the corns of her vision. Her former friend remained impassive, one eyebrow raised in skeptical amusement.

“Since you decided you have a death wish, apparently.”

“I’m as good as dead anyway, Illario. Not all of us will survive the gods.”

“You doubt yourself so much, and yet you fight anyway?”

“I trust my team. And I know I can make the sacrifices necessary-”

“So what? You’ve assembled an escort to your own suicide? Is that what this is, Fiammetta? All of this because you just can’t endure any longer?” He scoffed and let his hands fall at his sides, hitting his thighs with a dull slap. “And what of my cousin? You’ve let him believe he’ll have you in the end just so you can yank the rug out from under him?”

“You saw what happened when Cortez took him. I am a distraction. I nearly cost him-”

“And what will it cost him once he’s lost you? Grief is just as much a distraction as love. You should know, Fiammetta, you’ve thought of little else in your entire miserable life!”

“As if you don’t wallow in self pity yourself!”

“Spare me, Fi. It’s not the same. I don’t dwell on the past. But you… you live there.”

Rook opened her mouth, desperately searching for words to shout back. Verbal weapons to silence him, to shake him to his core, but she came up empty.

“He’s never loved anyone, Fiammetta,” Illario pleaded, “Not like you. Don’t do this to him.”

“As if you care-”

“Of course I care!” He charged forward and seized her shoulders, his face an inch from hers as his fingertips bruised her bare skin. “I thought I was doing him a favor. Zara twisted my mind until I truly felt only death could spare him from the fate of becoming First Talon. I was wrong, and it cost me my family. And Lucanis… it cost him everything . He will be an abomination for the rest of his life because I believed Zara’s lies. I betrayed him, my own blood.”

Illario began to tremble, and his grip loosened as his eyes fell to the floor. Shame was etched over every crease in his face, the hollow, dark rings under his eyes.

“Don’t make him suffer like that again,” he whispered, “Don’t lead my cousin on, only to throw yourself on the pyre and make him watch you burn. Spare Lucanis that fate, I beg you. Because I cannot take back the damage I have already done. He has somehow learned to trust despite my failure, but if you betray that trust… no one comes back from that.”

Rook blinked rapidly, her breath hitching as her eyes shimmered and burned. “Why tell me this?”

“I think you may be the only person left in Treviso who would believe me capable of remorse.” Illario released her and angled his head towards the window, unable to bear the weight of her gaze.

“For once in your life, Fiammetta, just do what Viago asks of you and be patient. Ivenci will fall, but politics never move quickly.” A bitter huff of air escaped Illario’s nose, and he shook his head, staring at one hand as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “Rich, coming from me, I know.”

Rook narrowed her eyes. “Am I to believe you’re done scheming your way into power? That blood magic won’t corrupt you the way it has every other mage that has dared to touch it? If we survive, what happens to you when this is all over?”

Illario turned and yanked the door open, stepping into the hall.

“You forget, Fiammetta, I am not a mage.” He said over his shoulder. “As for your second question… I don’t know. I hear Dairsmuid is nice this time of year.”

Full Chapter on AO3

[ms-boogie-man]

☦︎17TolucaLake☦︎

White liberal women are to be pointed at with heaps of laughter cast upon them. They should be shamed for everythingy they do and are about that is shameful, and the beta orbiter boys who follow these harpies and scraggens around should be treated pretty much the same

I do not own guns. What need do I have for them? *though I do know a lot about them as I find them very interesting… But, I am pro-2A all the way yo… and I am not a hypocrite. I am simply smart enough to know that owning whatsoever weapon you like is a God given, human right, and that the 2nd Amendment outlines that no governing force or other entity is entitled to take that right away from you/us

… and that killing the innocent unborn is the real murder that is happening

… and that all the mass shootings that occur, including those at schools, are false flags staged by the liberal leadership in America often organized and provided for by the same 3-letter agencies and bureaus that seek to take your guns

Think you can prove me wrong? I invite you to try… and if you cannot, I also invite you to stop being a liberal putting out liberal twat-garbage because you are just as wrong about literally every other issue like you are wrong on the gun issue. Here are just a few of the issues on that list:

The extortion that is taxation

The theft of liberty that is censorship

Your denial of your side of the aisle engaging in pedophilia

The slavery that still exists in the worldwide trafficking of women and children

The use of open borders to blend the criminals of the world into our law-abiding citizenry

The Democrat party as the leadership of the corrupt political establishment in America as well as certain complicit members of the GOP

The political establishment's use of 12-50 different types of election fraud and theft over the last 60+ years

The LGBTQ+ community, especially trans folks, being hijacked by the Democrat party to virtue signal and normalize deviant behavior *this is not to say that the LGBT community is inherently deviant, but the Dems manipulated and used that group in ways that it would not normally have otherwise given permission for

Globalism

Climate change

The loan scam in the education system

Why weed was sort of legalized

… and who the real Nazis and fascists are

There is more yo… shall I continue??

Yeah, and liberals do not know who the real Nazis represent, nor do liberals have any right to go around punching anyone *careful how you respond here… I set a little trap yo

#fucking liberalism is a mental illness #liberalism is a corrosion and blight on humanity, and always has been

White liberal women are a scourge on America 🤡

[giantkillerjack]

the average person doesn't expect you to be a perfect ethical consumer, that's not possible for the vast majority of us. but what youre saying is it's better to do nothing at all and choose the worst possible options (sweat shops, overseas shipping waste, idea/product theft, all wrapped up in SHEIN) than to put even the tiniest effort in where you can.

[they are referring to this post]

What I said was "some people are doing literally everything they can to survive and have no extra bandwidth to spend extra time and money on their purchases, and it is cruel and therefore un-punk to gatekeep punkness and add additional shame to these people's lives based on that fact."

I think it's still a good thing to try to ethically consume; I literally never said it wasn't. I had never even heard of SHEIN before. Rather, I am much more concerned about what I saw as arbitrary gatekeeping based on ability and income.

And frankly how dare you claim that I am supporting sweatshops and abuse by saying that this additional work you are demanding (in this case, presumably, vetting every clothing company you buy from) is not always possible for people. It is not a light accusation to accuse me of supporting abuse.

"How dare you say we piss on the poor", Etc. 🙄 this isn't Twitter. You are determined to enforce moral purity, but you are failing to see the nuance.

Because when I say "no extra bandwidth," I mean no extra bandwidth. This is not the "car shows it's on E but actually secretly it has a lot of gas left" situation that abled people constantly assume disabled people mean when they say they are at their limit.

This is "the car has stopped moving, and to move it I'd have to break my body pushing it." This is "at a certain point, people will hit a wall in terms of money and time and energy, and any energy spent after that comes directly out of their life force."

So the argument "okay but just spend a little more time money and energy actually" is not a valid one.

And the argument "if you are not able to do this specific task, then it means you're not doing anything else to make the world a better place" doesn't exactly impress me either. You said yourself that it is impossible to be a perfectly ethical consumer for most people.

How do you know what else people are doing to resist oppression? How many hours per week until your standards are met?What if someone works 3 jobs? Does that mean it's harder to be a good person if you're poor?? Why do you get to decide what specific avenue of bettering the world is the most morally repugnant or acceptable? What kind of proof of goodness and effort would make you satisfied enough to lay off on the shame?? Who are you helping??

Clothing is a fundamental human need, and some of us have to buy cheap fucking clothes quickly. Billionaires are buying their seventh yacht this month. The people who own fast fashion companies are abusing their workers and putting local affordable clothing stores out of business - and this applies for basically every company with price points that low because governments are failing to regulate corporations to enforce basic human rights.

I have $300 to spend on a new wardrobe as my old clothes have fallen apart or become too small. Do you have a way for me to get a new winter coat, 3 flannels, 10 shirts, 3 dress shirts, new sandals, 10 pairs of pants, 5 bras, 12 pairs of socks, and 10 pairs of underwear within that budget and also definitely 100% ethically sourced, with free returns in case it doesn't fit? Or will I simply have to use the cheap stores?

I have about an hour to spend on this per week. Many mainstream stores doesn't make clothes in my size, and I am now in *year 5* of needing an electric wheelchair and being unable to get one; plus I live up a flight of stairs, so I can't even bring my walker out with me - so thrift shopping is not gonna cover this. Should I continue to wear small and tattered clothing until I have the time, money, and energy to meet your standards?

Did you know there are more empty homes in this country than homeless people? If I decide to splurge on only 100% ethically-produced products, and I can't make rent, and I become homeless, are YOU going to be there for me?? Or are you too busy litigating the endless tiny shames of poverty in your own community?

So I ask you again, are you SURE this is where you want to direct your punk energy?

Because there are a whole lot of rich people relying on people like us punching down and to the side instead of looking up to see where the money is going.

Because energy and time, as it turns out, are limited resources. And I would never expect you to secretly have more than you claim to have.

[lycandrophile]

i clicked on the original tweet just to see if anyone else felt as weird about it as i did because at this point i’m just tired of seeing people going on and on about trans men dating cishet men who try to convince them not to transition as if it’s a funny joke about a trans man doing something silly and not a manipulative and generally very unhealthy relationship dynamic that can hurt the trans man involved really deeply (as forcing someone back into the closet tends to do.)

did i find anyone else feeling that way? no. there were a few people pointing out that it was weird in general, and plenty saying it’s a weird thing to say about a cis woman, but nothing expressing any sort of concern about the tired stereotype it’s perpetuating.

but you know what i did find? replies like the one in the second screenshot, using the tweet as their chance to tell the world how much they hate trans men and how repulsive they find the idea of ever being compared to us. and replies like the third one, shaming trans men in relationships like that as if the fact that they’ve found themselves in an unhealthy relationship makes them deserving of public shaming, as if their relationship is hurting anyone other than them.

stereotypes like this just feel like yet another way of indirectly calling us stupid little girls who don’t know what’s good for us, and the fact that a picture of a woman is being used (even jokingly!) as an example of what trans men “like that” look like should make the implications of rhetoric like this all the more obvious.

it’s relationships like these that keep us miserable in the closet for so long and drive up our sexual assault rates even more. they’re not funny and if anyone is going to be making jokes about them, it certainly shouldn’t be people who have never been in that situation. if you actually cared about us you’d be looking for ways to support the trans men you know who are in relationships like that instead of hopping on twitter to joke about how stupid they must be.

i don’t care if it’s a joke. if it victim blames trans men for the transphobia we face in our personal relationships, adds to the common idea that we can’t be trusted to make decisions about our own lives, and invites even more blatant transphobia against us by people who unabashedly admit they see all trans men as “disgusting and phony”, it’s not fucking funny.

(i also want to note that the people making these jokes never like to mention that this also happens to trans men in relationships with queer women. they also hate those trans men, of course, and are happy to express that when they get into fights about trans men who date lesbians, but they’ll never talk about it in the context of this particular stereotype. it’s always a man being manipulative in a relationship and pressuring trans men to not transition, as if a woman would never be capable of such a thing.

they also like to conveniently ignore the existence of older trans men who transitioned after already being in a committed relationship with a cishet man and were able to make that relationship work despite their transition, because acknowledging that would require recognizing that trans men can be in seemingly contradictory relationships and genuinely be happy with their partner. who needs nuance when you can simply choose to judge all trans men for our relationships regardless of what they’re actually like?)

do you think they also would call me “a trans man being purposefully misgendered” with this kind of vitriol because i’m still living with parents who don’t recognize my gender instead of moving out before i’m ready to be financially independent? at this point, i’m starting to feel like they might, with the way every decision a trans man ever makes is the subject of a public debate and people have decided that trans men are secretly using being misgendered as a weapon to somehow hurt other trans people.

as a general rule, i’d say the only people who should be making “X looks like a trans man” jokes about literally anyone/anything are trans men, and posts like this show exactly why those jokes being made by anyone else (even by other trans people) just isn’t a good idea.

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters Hand Headcanons

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Reader

Tags: fluff, size difference, hand-holding, scars, bruises, hand comparison, cuddles

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I remember there was a post where an artist drew the hands and made some headcanons in their drawings but I don't remember who the artist was. But that was my inspiration for this.

JINX

Long and skinny fingers

Lots of calluses from tinkering with her weapons

A strong grip because of the Shimmer

If looking at her hands in the dark you can see Shimmer running through her veins

Has to constantly be told to be careful when working because she has no concept of safety and has come close to losing more fingers

VI

Her hands are really rough all over

bruises on her knuckles that never seem to heal because she's always fighting

A few bones have been broken over the years and healed haphazardly

Gets the biggest puppy-dog eyes if you take her hands and kiss each finger paying special attention to the bruises

You're the only one she trusts to help her wrap and unwrap her hands every day

CAITLYN

A lot of calluses on her hands, especially her fingers

She's been shooting with a riffle since she was young so the pads of her fingers are tougher than the rest of her hand

The skin on the pads if her fingers is hardened

Likes to wear gloves, which you will say is a shame

Knows you like her hands a lot, but she has a better grip on her guns with the gloves on

MADDIE

Her hands are dusted with little freckles

A bit small, perfect for hand-holding actually

Can crack her knuckles and she doesn't even realize she does it most of the time

Many faded scars from her time growing up and training in Noxus

Refuses to elaborate when you notice how scared her hands are, but if she gets to know you well enough and trusts you she might share a story or two

EKKO

Because he's always working his hands are really rough and even have a few burn marks

There are more than a few broken bones in his hands

Never healed well because he refuses to take Shimmer and it's a bit difficult to find good doctors in Zaun

Habit of tapping his fingers against surfaces, even your arm or back while you cuddle

To keep your relationship on the down-low he often holds your pinkie finger with his

VANDER

His hands are huge compared to yours, you have to use both to hold one of his

The strength he has could crush a man if he tried

Definitely a working man's hands, you can tell he's never skipped a work day in his life

Long faded scratches on his arms and wrists

Still enjoys punching things and has a big punching bag in his room, but he often forgets to wrap his hands, which makes them a bit bloody after

SILCO

For someone in Zaun he takes pretty good care of his hands

Cold compared to yours, like his body temperature isn't quite where it needs to be

Skinny, long fingers but he will paint his nails if you or Jinx ask him to

Takes care of himself so he never has dry hands despite how they look

Always places his hand over yours, it's a protective and possessive habit

SEVIKA

She only has one human hand left but she's reckless with that one too

Always fights so you always help her patch up the bruises and clean the blood

Marks from tearing off scabs or making them bleed again

Usually has a hard grip but softens it for you

Has a few ash burns from her cigarette, she doesn't always move it away in time

VIKTOR

He grew up in Zaun and then threw himself in lab work so he's not the best at taking care of his hands

Skinny, almost boney hands

Has a habit of biting his nails when he's thinking about something

Broke his fingers and wrists more than a few times

You always tell him to wear gloves but he never does, not because he doesn't think he shouldn't but because he doesn't remember

JAYCE

Big, meaty, rough hands, very strong

He always wears gloves when he works, be it the lab or the forge

And yet he still gets that slightly rougher skin, not fully though because he's really careful

Uses hand lotion when he finishes working, it's what makes his skin extra soft

Won't admit that he does it but when you hold hands he's doing math in his head and comparing the hand sizes

MEL

If she didn't tell you then you would have never guessed she grew up in Noxus because her hands are so smooth

Her hands are delicate, with really well manicured nails

Only when you look really close can you see just a few, very tiny cut marks but they're almost completely faded away

Enjoys getting hand massages from you and you complimenting her hands

Tickles you when she runs her nails across your skin

[meowdei]

GOJO SATORU : ADVANTAGE

female reader ; mentions of alcohol and hooking up ; friends to lovers ; getting together (sort of) ; your typical clingy, annoying, and slightly shameless satoru

There is a boy in your bed.

That’s the first thing you notice when you wake up. The second thing is that his arms are curled around your waist. The third is that you’re both rather bare…which is the most mortifying part of it all. You have no recollection of what happened the night before to land you in such a scandalizing predicament—just that one drink turned into one too many.

So, with pretty limited options, you lay painfully still, trying to figure out what you should do. Should you leave? (No, this is your own home, after all). Should you wake him up? (That might make things a bit awkward, though). Should you pretend to sleep until he finally wakes up and leaves himself? (But that might take too long and your anxiety might kill you first). You weigh your options, still careful enough to stay still—at least, you try.

He suddenly pulls you closer, and you flinch against your will.

“Oh, you’re up!” He chirps instantly.

Everything stops as soon as you hear the voice. The world stops spinning. It might have even shifted from its tilted axis. Your blood runs cold. Your heart stops beating. You think maybe even for a moment, your soul may have left your body.

Satoru.

“Satoru?” You turn around quickly—and then, just as quickly, you give a small, panicked gasp and pull the blanket to cover your chest.

He eyes you in amusement as he causally says, “I already saw everything, so you don’t really need to bother with all that.”

How shameless. Which, of course, is pretty on brand for him. But still, how shameless.

“You’re unbelievable,” you hiss, glaring at him, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You invited me here,” he grins. It’s too wide for your liking. You’d mistake it for smugness if you didn’t know him a tad bit better—no, it’s purely gleeful.

“I did not,” you sputter.

“Oh, but you did,” he all but purrs. And then, much to your horror, he takes on a mockingly high-pitched voice and replicates what you assume is your drunk, alcohol-induced invitation from the night before. “Where are you going, silly? Come inside. Oh Satoru ~ you feel so good. More, Satoru—please! Satoru, you—”

“I do not sound like that,” you screech, glaring at him as one hand still protectively holding the blanket over your chest while the other moves to give him a harsh shove.

He chuckles, flopping back against your mattress as he holds his arm out for you. “No point in bickering over the specifics now. Come here.”

“For what?”

“Weaponized incompetence only gets you so far,” he clicks his teeth, “come, come. We’re going to cuddle before—”

You cut him off firmly. “We are not cuddling. You are going to get dressed while I close my eyes and then you’re going to walk yourself out the door and go home.”

He pouts, giving you a dramatically pathetic look as he murmur, “after I showed you such a good time? Don’t you think that’s a little rude?”

You don’t even remember the time that he supposedly showed you—although, it’s pretty evident that it happened. Very evident, in fact. The clothes on the floor. The slight soreness of your body. The faint bite marks on his collarbone (did you really do that?) and the beginnings of scratches starting at his shoulders.

It’s all….so obvious. So painfully clear that somehow, after a series of events, you’ve fallen prey to the charms of a boy you happen to know pretty well. Unfortunately for you, you also happened to get to know him a little better than you would have liked—and you don’t even have any memory of it.

You glare at him for a moment before muttering, “you should not take advantage of a drunk girl.”

His mouth opens for a second—and it just stays like that. Speechless. It might be the first time you’ve seen him that way, too. (It’s a shame you don’t get to appreciate it more given the circumstances—not a lot of people can say they’ve witnessed Satoru of all people have nothing to say).

“Maybe you took advantage of a drunk guy,” he retorts, huffing, “you know how I get after a drink or two. How do you know you didn’t prey on me?”

“You’re in my bed!”

“Only because you insisted your place was closer!”

You sigh exasperatedly, lying back against your pillow as you rub your temple. He shuffles closer, inching little by little in a comically unsubtle manner until he’s pressed against your side. He’s warm. His skin is soft and something about it feels good enough that you don’t immediately flinch away.

“This is weird,” you whisper. Still, you don’t move. You can’t. It’s hard to pretend like it’s not sort of nice getting to feel Satoru like this—so close and near and yours.

(Is he yours? Maybe not. But getting to pretend for just a moment doesn’t feel all that wrong).

“It’s not so bad,” he murmurs, quietly into the room as he looks around, a foreignly soft look in his eyes.

Just to be annoying, you feign being confused and ask, “what, my interior design?”

“Us,” he purses his lips, glancing at you, unimpressed. “It’s not so bad when it’s just us.”

“I think the alcohol made your brain permanently damaged,” you hum.

He rolls his eyes, scoffing lightly as you try not to smile. Gently, in a way that’s careful and delicate that Satoru usually is not, he snakes an arm around you and pulls you close. And just as carefully, before you can scold him with an undignified scowl, he pulls the blanket up to make sure you stay covered.

You stare at him cautiously, and he leans closer.

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sober right now. And hungover, so I don’t appreciate you adding to my headache.”

“Rude,” you gasp, shoving at his chest again. He grins, one arm still wrapped tightly around you as he keeps you nice and flush against him.

“What say you to a nice brunch without any alcohol—just you, me, and maybe some coffee.”

Your heart skips a beat. You force yourself to pretend like you hardly care as you shrug and say, “I’d say you’re just trying to ease your guilt for taking advantage of me.”

“Actually,” he says pointedly, “you have to say yes to ease your guilt of taking advantage of me.”

“I say it’s all about perspective,” you crack a grin.

“Well, to put it into perspective for you, we’re getting brunch,” he says firmly, burying his nose into your shoulder.

You ask cheekily, “it’s on you, right?”

“Oh, sure. I guess you’re already perfectly fine with taking advantage of me a second time, huh?”

One night stand with ur friend satoru but the sexual tension has always been so thick it’s easy to cut with a plastic knife

[charredpages]

[Alt text] ten screenshots of text posts by the user themme_fatale on Instagram. The text reads:

(1/10)

Do you remember the exact moment that anti-masking stopped being a far-right talking point

And became advice you were willing to follow?

(2/10)

I try to make the ways I communicate about COVID as compassionate and non-judgemental as possible because I understand that we have all been failed in this and my primary anger is always upwards.

BUT

I also need you to understand - if you are not taking precautions, you are aligning yourself with eugenicists.

The person who actively says “fuck disabled people they deserve to 💀” and never masks, and the person who never masks because “It’s annoying and besides-no one else is” are BOTH devaluing people’s lives.

(3/10)

And that might feel confronting for some of you, and I know the knee-jerk reaction is probably going to be to deflect by accusing me of “shaming people” or whatever.

I’m not shaming anyone though - it’s just uncomfortable to sit with because if you’re the kind of person who follows me chances are you don’t actually want to be engaging in eugenics.

And re-engaging with the idea that COVID is not only still around, but still actively dangerous is asking a lot of you when the alternative is the comfort of denial.

Especially when so many of the tools to keep ourselves and each other safe have been taken away from us. But the thing is none of that is actually a reason not to act.

(4/10)

There are people IN YOUR COMMUNITY relying on you to take precautions so that they don’t d1e.

(5/10)

With love, and compassion for the fact that this shit is hard - ignorance is running out as an excuse. It’s time to do better, and help your mates do better too.

People in your community shouldn’t have to constantly remind you not to put their lives in danger. Surely you can see that’s a pretty fucked up dynamic, right?

(6/10)

We shouldn’t have to push so hard on “it’s good for you to protect yourself too!” Like it still absolutely is, but saving the lives of people in your community should actually be enough to motivate you to act.

It’s genuinely fucked up to be ok with a whole proportion of the population being either being locked in their homes indefinitely or at risk of 💀 on the daily.

(7/10)

It should be considered more socially awkward to engage in eugenics by k1lling and isolating disabled people in your own community than it is to put on a mask

The fact that it’s not should embarrass all of us until we change it.

(8/10)

It should be considered more selfish to put people’s lives at risk than to ask to be kept safe

Your choices can change or reinforce that culture.

(9/10)

Government inaction puts a weapon in your hand

Pretending it’s not there puts us all in danger

(10/10)

Why do you require a mandate to care about other people?

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 2

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Contary to popular belief, (which was pretty much that the shadows had no mind of their own, which they had, thank you very much) the shadows did do other thing than to only listen to Master’s orders. 

Of course they listened to Master’s orders. 

But they also did…things that Master didn’t know about…and would never need to find out about…

One example in fact was the amount of gold the shadows had squirreled away throughout the centuries. Not for them, but for Master. So that Mater would never need to worry about that again. So that Master would never need to sleep in a dungeon again, like he had as a child. So Master could always have new weapons and could keep himself safe, so that he would have everything he needed.

Gold wasn’t the only thing they had squirrelled away…they had other things stashed away too! Anyhting that made the appearance of being useful one day! Shiny little things, because the shadows liked that…Sadly Master never made the appearance that he would appreciate the diamond necklaces they had hidden away in a little cave, but maybe one day…

Maybe one day Master would take a wife and she would like them.

The shadows had it all figured out. Whoever she turned out to be, they would make sure that she liked them too. They would make themselves useful so that she would like them.

Even when it had never seemed to work before… The shadows had made themselves scarce around The Morrigan and The Seer because they knew that Master liked them. And if Master liked them…well, then the shadows would make sure that Master got what he wanted.

Master wanted so few things after all…

They even found The Morrigan her favourite red lipstick that hadn’t been made in centuries. Not because they liked The Morrigan, but because Master did.

And in return, she treated Master like that.

And The Seer…oh, somehow that was even worse.

Though The Seer wasn’t the only one the Shadows didn’t like because of that. The High Lord was the other one. And him… oh, the shadows would get their revenge. 

Master was theirs. Nobody talked to Master like that.

(They just needed to wait for the perfect moment…and the High Lord would regret ever treating their Master like that…)

Master had nearly gotten himself killed just because he had wanted to make The Seer happy…and nobody even seemed to care about that. Not really. 

And then Master was working himself to the bone, clearly wanting to forget what happened between him and The Seer…and the Shadows just wanted to fix things, but there was nothing to fix anymore. 

At least now…At least now, finally, Master was listening to somebody with his best interests at first.

The Shadows would find Master a wife. The best wife they possibly could. And a home too.

And so, with their new mission in mind, the shadows set off to find the perfect home and the perfect female for their master.

The home was the easier part.

Mostly because they already owned it for a few decades. 

It was a picturesque Lake House at one of the mountain seas in Velaris, not far off from the House of Wind. It was beautiful and just a few minutes by foot away from the city center but still private and quiet…and the view was spectacular. 

The home itself was warm and cozy, with large windows that let in plenty of sunlight. Master would love it.

It just needed a little…attention. Some furniture…They would need to put the stuff they had filled it with somewhere else but that shouldn’t be a problem, right? 

Master would love it. Now they just needed the right female to share it with for Master…

The shadows were going to find Master a wife… They just needed…They just needed to figure out some criteria at first.

Master had said he didn’t care about how she looked…so that didn’t help them to narrow down the pool of possible candidates.

Nobody with a known mate. Nobody in a romantic relationship… regardless of how loose that was. The Shadows were not going to get Master’s heart broken again, thank you very much… Then all the females that preferred females themselves.

That did narrow it down… at least a little bit.

Then the more…obscure character traits. 

Nobody that was a workaholic like Master. That was never going to work.

Nobody that needed endless other people around them to be happy…Master would just get overwhelmed and shut down…

Nobody that didn’t seem like they were ready for a long term relationship either…once again, they didn’t want to break Master’s heart again…

The shadows had met really bad people. Criminals and murderers…they had seen the worst the world had to offer …but they were surprised by how many females they threw out too that pool simply because of how they behaved towards other people.

Once they had thought that maybe…maybe one female was an option. Dark blonde hair, green eyes…she had a steady job and she liked going out dancing….by the time she made fun of the limp of a soldier, the shadows wondered if every single person they came across was an asshole. They also wondered if there was anyone out there who truly deserved Master. 

But the Shadows refused to give up. They would find the right female for Master, no matter how long it took. They had already acquired a beautiful home for him, and now they were determined to find the perfect mate to share it with...

They could easily suss out anybody they wanted to meet…they could figure out which females were available…The problem was only that…they did find some kind of problem with every female they came across.

The blonde one that made fun of the limp was just one in a very long row of them. There was another one that they thought could have worked…but she got into earhsattering, screaming arguments with seemingly everybody she came across. Master liked his quietness, that wasn’t going to work either…

Another few that didn’t want a serious relationship even when they said they did, which was completely fine but made them useless for the shadows purposes… The Shadows were halfway ready to give up in Velaris and start trying again in another city of the Night Court, when they came across her in a dark back alley.

Across her and probably the dirtiest and ugliest feral cat that the shadows had ever seen.The ugliest cat they had ever seen that she was clearly trying to entice to come home with her.

“H-hey, swe...sweetie,” she whispered, her voice stuttering. She was crouched down o the floor. “Wa—Want to go somewhere war—warmer?”

The cat meowed pitifully and the shadows watched as she wrapped the cat up in the scarf she had worn, not for one moment caring that the cat was goign to ruin it. 

The shadows couldn’t help but keep watching, their curiosity piqued. She was clearly not concerned about the dirt or the torn scarf, and she was attempting to bond with this mangy feral cat. This showed a level of compassion and patience that they hadn’t often come across in their search. 

She seemed determined to help the cat, and the shadows couldn't help but admire her tenacity. 

The cat looked horribly, with matted, dirty fur, two eyes that stared in two different direction and an overbite. Somehow it reminded the Shadows of Master. 

Not with the way it looked…more in the way it pitfully stayed quiet and didn’t attack the female, even as she picked it up, wrapped in her scarf and then took it home. 

She smiled at the mangly back alley cat with so much adoration that the shadows wondered where it was even coming from. Her face was alight with joy as the cat rubbed her head against her fingertips.

The shadows followed along as she brought the cat to her apartment.

It was tiny. Tiny and absolutely stuffed full with books. So many books. Like somebody had tried to stuff the whole library of the Hose of Wind in this little apartment overlooking the harbour.

She had so many bookcases lining the walls, books in little stacks on her dining table and coffee table…or simply stacked on the floor. It was cozy and cluttered and utterly charming. Her passion for literature spilled out of every corner of her home. 

The Shadows couldn’t help but wonder what kin of person would choose to filll their living space with so many books. 

Apparently a person that had no problem with spending the better part of an hour bathing the cat in her kitchen sink. 

Weren't cats supposed to not to like water?

This one didn't seem to care. This one sat calmly in her sink and attemptsed to bite the stream of water flowing from the faucet...which meant it snuffled and sneezed for the big majority of the bath. She soaped him up twice, muttering a constant stream of reassurances that the cat doesn't seem to actually need, given the cat’s complete lack of distress at being repeatedly soaked.

And still she talked to it, constantly, the stutter omnipresent. She showed a remarkable amount of patience and care as she cleaned and combed the feral cat, gently and painstakingly combing out every single matted strand of hair and making sure the cat was clean and comfortable.

The shadows couldn't help but be slightly taken aback. She seemed completely focused on making sure the cat was happy and healthy, and she didn't even seem to mind that she was making a mess of her kitchen in the process. 

​​She scooped said up in a fluffy towel, rubbing it up and the cat purred, looking at her with two eyes that stared in two different directions. It was still the ugliest cat the shadows had ever seen, but she seemed to utterly adore it.

"You need - need a name," she told the cat seriously. She seemed to take this decision very seriously, as if the cat's name was a reflection of his identity. The cat in question was clearly enjoying the attention, purring contentedly as it was rubbed with a fluffy towel. "I thi-ink you are a boy. How about...Hector," she said finally, as if she had carefully considered many options before settling on this one. "I think it suits you.”

"How about some tu...tuna, Hector?" she asked him seriously. "I'll even give...give you the good crystal."

She couldn’t be serious, could she?

Apparently, she was. She fed the mangy back alley cat from a fancy little crystal dish that she put a tin of tuna into with a flourish, putting out another dish with water right next to it. 

She slipped off the apron she had put on, printed with ditsy little florals and sat down next to the cat. Hector happily scarfed down everything she was offering and then came to curl himself up on her lap. “I have a bad track record with males,” she told the cat seriously. “They end up cheating on me with my sister.”

The statement caught the shadows off guard. What? 

Despite that admission she she continued to gently stroke the cat in her lap, clearly finding some comfort in his company. "I'll feed you all the tuna I can find, if you keep me company," she told the cat softly. "I could really use some company."

That wasn’t…that wasn’t what the shadows had expected. Bu the Hector purre, the sound rough and growly and she giggled, sounding sweet and incandescently happy. 

She wanted companionship. That was clear. And she was also used to beng the second choice, when the males she had been with, had cheated on her with her sister. 

They were intrigued. 

They kept watching, hiding between her books, that seemed to span every which genre as she got ready for bed. 

She took a bath, and they watched as she let down her hair from the thick braided bun it had been kept it, ripples of chocolate brown tresses falling down her back…she was pretty too. 

Pretty with dark hair and blue eyes, with lush curves that were swathed into a pair of blue silk pyjamas.

She opened a chest at the end of her wrought iron bed, going through it for a moment and then pulling out a fluffy blanket, into which she wrapped Hector in. 

“Here, you..you can have that one,” she said softly, placing the cat at the end of her bed. “Let’s go to sleep.”

And so she went to sleep, curled up between floral sheets, and the cat purring at her feed and the shadows watched. 

They stayed.  

While she slept, they explored her house, searching for everything that they could learn about her. Searched for a name and her job or her hobbies and…

The answer was found in the desk that was tucked beneath her window in the living room. 

Dozens of pages filled with loopy handwriting were covering it. Drafts of her newest novel. A romance novel. 

Just a few moments later they found a stack of letters…and then were very confused for a little while, because there were letters addressed to two different females. Skylar Alden…and one Sellyn Drake. 

It took them a moment until they realised that both names contained the same letters.

Skylar Alden was Sellyn Drake.

Sellyn Drake, the bestselling romance author. Sellyn Drake, who Lady Death loved to read. Sellyn Drake, whose identity was a secret...

Skylar Alden was Sellyn Drake. 

Skylar Alden, who seemed to prefer to be called Sky, signing everything with just these three letter…and who doted on Hector, the ugly cat..She was also Sellyn Drake, Bestselling Romance Novel Author extraordinaire. 

And she seemed very much content with keeping that a secret. 

But why? 

Why did she chose to hide her identity? Was she afraid of the fame that came with success? Or did she prefer to remain anonymous and blend in with the everyday world? 

The Shadows were intrigued. 

Was this the only secret Sky was hiding? 

The Shadows kept an eye her over the following days. 

They waited for her to do something that would put her out of the running as Master’s wife. Waited for her to have some kind of flaw that they couldn't deal with...but there was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

They closely monitored her every move, and half the time she didn’t even leave her apartment, preferring to stay curled up inside, write her books, and cuddle with Hector, the cat.

For cauldron’s sake…she even knitted the ugly cat a sweater so he wouldn’t get cold because his belly didn’t have any fur after she had removed all these mats!

There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that they could find in her life that could even be construed as unkind. 

Sky had a bank account that was full thanks to the books she wrote…and all she paid for with it, was her rent, her food, her regular mail orders of more books…She even donated to one of the orphanages in Velaris, for crying outloud! 

Sometimes she went down to the fishmonger and bought ridiculously expensive tuna for Hector, who she spoiled rotten. 

Though that one trip to the harbour…where the shadows hid in her handbag…well, that one trip explained why she seemed more than content to stay in the privacy of her own home for most of the time. 

Her stutter got exponentially worse when she tried to talk to another person, when it wasn’t just herself and the cat that she liked reading her books aloud to... 

Especially when the person she tried to talk to was an impatient fishmonger that rolled his eyes at her stutter. The Shadows as Sky’s cheeks turned a ruddy red, embarrassment clouding around her thickly. 

The shadows silently bristled. 

She acquired her tuna, paid silently and then kept her head down as she headed back home, cheeks still read, while blue, blue eyes filled with tears. 

And that…that was just pissing the shadows off. 

She hadn’t even been doing anything! She had just stuttered while asking for fish!

It wasn’t like she was doing this on purpose!

One tendril from the Shadows darted out of her bag, waiting until Sky was far enough away that that idiotic fishmonger wouldn’t think she had anything to do with it…

And then they only needed to loose that pesky little screw that kept one of the legs of his table attached…Screw you, Fishmonger. Let that be a lesson to be nicer to other people 

Another customer accidentally jostled said table just seconds later and the shadows snickered to themselves as the fish went flying. 

The tendril silently returned to Sky’s handbag, as she made her way back home. 

Hector got some of the Tuna cut up into small pieces on the good crystal bowl…and Sky gently scratched him behind his ears the whole time. 

The Shadows silently wondered if Master would enjoy being scratched behind his ears, as well. 

“I’ll ha--have dinner with my family to…tonight. You’ll stay here, al-alright? I’ll be back soon,” she promised the cat. 

Hector just purred at her, nuzzling against her hand before the cat began to dig into the tuna as though he would never be fed again.

Her family. Well, the Shadows would totally come along for that…who knew, maybe her family was just as lovely as she was!

They were not in fact as lovely, as she was.

It started with the very first words of her mother who opened the door, Sky juggling her purse and a paper covered tray from a bakery: “Did you bring dessert? It’s not like you should eat any of that.”

Sky paused at her mother's words, the small smile that had graced her face vanishing like water in the sand.

And then it returned, but the difference between her true smile and her fake smile were so... stark.

"Hi-i. I brou… I brought cake," she said, holding out the tray towards her. "Where do you….Whe-ere do…where do-o you want me to…to put it?"

Her voice was shaking. And she was stuttering…stuttering even worse than she had done with that fishmonger.

“Talk properly, Skylar,” her mother admonished her harshly. “Put it in the kitchen.”

Sky gave a small nod, but her eyes were downcast as the Shadows followed her into the house. 

The Shadows were...not impressed with Sky's mother. It was clear that her stutter wasn’t something that she could help, but instead was something that came out stronger when she was nervous or anxious or around other people. 

Sky set the cake on the counter and glanced towards the dining room. The table was already set, surrounded by other people, that the shadows took in, while hiding in the curtains of the living room: 

Sky’s mother was taller than her, blonde and grey eyed. The shadows also got their first glimpse at what probably was her sister. Looking just like her mother, tall and slender…accompanied by a red haired male. And then there was another blonde male, probably a brother…and an older male, who must be her father. At least he shared her dark hair.

“Ah there you are Skylar,” the blonde female greeted her, her voice sickly sweet.

"Hi Claire. Hi-i…ever…everyone," she murmured looking as though she would rather be anywhere but here.

Her eyes briefly flitted to her father. He gave a small nod, but otherwise he looked… indifferent. As though he did not even care.

"We've been waiting for you," her mother said, her voice sharp and curt, "Sit." Sky didn't respond, just moved quickly to the table. She settled down in one of the empty spots, clasping her hands on her lap.

"...Is this what you call fashion?" her sister scoffed.

Sky looked down at her outfit. 

As far as the shadows could tell, there was nothing wrong with it. I cream coloured blouse, a blue skirt…It was a rather pretty outfit in the Shadow's opinion. Sky looked beautiful and charming to them. 

“Did you gain weight, again?” The red haired male said with a roll of his eyes. “You always had a horrible sweet tooth.”

What. 

Since when did that make polite dinner conversation?

Sky didn't respond, even when the shadows could see her hands tightening around each other, looking down as her mother let out an exasperated sigh. “You’ll never find a male like this,” her mother snorted. “Males don’t like it if girls don’t keep up their appearances. The least you could do is try.”

"I'm...sor...re...sorry," the stuttering had gotten worse, Sky practically shrinking into her seat. She was fidgeting, looking as though she wanted to disappear into herself and the Shadows wished that they could just sweep her far away from here.

“How is work?” Her brother asked flatly at that moment. “Still editing your stupid romance novels? I still think you should do something slightly more useful.”

So even they didn’t know. 

Sellyn Drake was a secret even from her family. But then, if her family talked to her like that and it was…normal…then the shadows weren’t surprised. 

“What else is she supposed to do?” the red haired male asked with a snort. “It’s not like she has any skills.”

Sky flinched, not looking at him. The shadows wondered if that was one of the males that had cheated on her with her sister. 

“Oh, come on, Admon. She has some skills,” her sister said at that moment, giving another winning smile. “She can annoy everybody around her with her inability to speak properly.” 

Wow. 

Sky didn’t even flinch. Sky did nothing. 

She just...sat there through all the comments. Sky didn't even try to defend herself.

The whole dinner went by like that. Comment after comment after comment. About her work, about her body, about her clothing, about her stutter… Sky barely had any dinner because every time she picked up her fork with food on it, her mother was shooting her a sharp look. So she left most of the food on her plate and the shadows wanted to bristle. 

She maybe wasn’t as thin as her mother or her sister but that didn’t make her any less beautiful or any less deserving of food! 

When they weren’t making prickly comments about sky, her older brother Orin and Claire, her sister were only talking about themselves. It was quite useful only because the shadows learned stuff like the fact that Claire and Admon were engaged to be married and that Orin was working at a bank…

But none of that information made it worth for them to treat her like that. 

Eventually the dinner finally ended after what felt like an eternity. Sky looking as though she could hardly wait to leave. She rose, and the Shadows quickly into her purse her as she grabbed her purse and her jacket.

"Leaving already?" her mother frowned, standing as well. 

"I…It's get…getting…late." Sky said, her eyes not even lifting to look at her mother.

The words were barely out of her mouth before her mother's hand darted out, gripping her jaw tightly and causing the Shadows to let out a warning hiss. Sky winced in pain as her mother forced her to look up.

“At least try to be polite, if you are utterly useless.”

Sky's eyes widened in pain as her lip wobbled. She looked as though she was going to cry, her hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to stay calm. "I'm…sor-r-r-ry." She whispered.

But her mother didn't even release her grip. "Don't talk to me like you are the one being wronged. Look at you. Who would want you like this?"

The Shadows bristled at her mother's words. Everyone would want her like this, they thought angrily. We would want her like this.

Sky swallowed thickly, trying to fight her tears. She was trembling, trembling from head to toe.

"I'm sor-rry. Pl-please. Let me go." She stammered.

Her mother simply sneered, and shoved her backwards, Sky nearly falling as she stumbled. "You'll never amount to anything." She said coldly. "You're nothing more than a disappointment."

Sky looked absolutely mortified at her mother's words, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she looked down at her feet. She looked like a wounded animal, like someone who had given up. And it made the Shadows burn with anger. How could her own family be so cruel to her? Didn't they see how kind she was? Or how…how sweet she was?

Sky took a step backwards, and then she was running, practically fleeing out the door, rushing into the night. She was almost running, her breaths ragged as every gasp she took sounded as though she was trying to smother her sobs.

Finally, she slowed down, but didn't stop walking.

She just kept walking, her head down, tears still falling down from her wide eyes. Finally, she slowed down, but didn't stop walking. She made her way back home, shoulders caved in, looking utterly and completely miserable, as opened her door with her key…and then the damn burst. 

And she collapsed right on the floor in her hallway, great, heaving sobs escaping her.  

And the shadows just knew one thing with utter certainty: They were going to fix this. They were going to fix this for her and Master.

Even when it was the last fucking thing they did. 

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞❝

Headcanons with my favorite boyssss [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Wordcount » 1234 (lol no way... you see it? 1234...) Info » just cute things ;3

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ace: qmech | Kid: skxviii | Law: oyasumi_mofu | Doffy: Hijiki_DaiXt

𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒

You both get partner tattoos instead of wedding rings but not something lame like a circle around the ring finger rather something small and personal. You have a little flame on the side of your thigh and he has one on his chest that has something to do with you. Maybe you have a devil fruit or a special weapon? It's up to you :p

You never thought you'd cry at your wedding ceremony because Ace let the most beautiful vows EVER leave his lips. His words were typically Ace and in between your tears he made you laugh. You were almost ashamed when it was your turn because you just wanted to repeat a sentence he once said to you but you changed it a bit… "I'm not interested in living a thousand years, it's enough for me to survive today with you." You spoke. Ace recognized the words immediately and remembered the conversation you shared in the past with a broad grin. He almost yanked you to him and kissed your lips even though the priest hadn't even given his blessing yet. But he doesn't care, he doesn't need the priest's blessings when he has you.

He definitely had his own thoughts about the wedding. For example, he has looked into various traditions… but it seems like he got something wrong… Instead of carrying you bridal style over the doorstep, he carried you all day. As soon as you set foot on the floor to get a new drink, he picked you up in his arms. His statement? "Come on love, when will I have the chance to carry you in your wedding dress again?". Okay that's smooth.

𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑

Kid probably would never have proposed to you on his own. You've been together for so long now and every time you've seen a married couple your mood has soured. You were annoyed and also disgusted and one day Killer asked you about it and in the conversation you ironically realized that you also wanted to get married lol… when you were with Kid in his workshop you casually mentioned, that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to get married as he was working on one of his new creations. He froze at the word marriage and the next second his machine caught fire because he held the welding rod on it for too long. You both panicked and put out the fire and you realized that he found the topic unpleasant and unnecessary, but you are you and you get everything you want, even if you have to force him! Luckily for you, Killer told you that Kid likes the idea of you committing to him forever, but pshht… otherwise Killer will lose his life.

He will send you away if you want to ask him something about the wedding planning or want his opinion. He'll just tell you that you can do whatever you think is necessary (ugh). You think it's a bit of a shame but you don't mind, you just want him to feel comfortable at his own wedding. After all, it's not just yours. But if it were up to him, he would simply put the ring on your finger and seal your marriage with a big smooch on the lips. But later in the evening you notice that he has circled options he likes or left little notes on your wedding plans and that's when you know you're marrying the right one.

he forges your rings and is quite proud of his work, but secretly nags Killer that he is unsure whether you like the rings. When he saw the sparkle in your eyes and heard your words about how much you love the rings, his heart stopped for a moment only to beat extremely fast. He wanted to marry you right on the spot, but he knows how much love you put into the planning. Happy wife happy life lol.

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤

A grand wedding with everyone (including the straw hats etc.) is planned, but he has other plans and takes you to the most romantic place to have a wedding ceremony just for the two of you. The party can still take place afterwards with everyone, you are a little social butterfly after all, but the wedding ceremony? That's between you and him <3

Law, similar to Ace, would want partner tattoos instead of real rings but rather in an intimate place where only both of you will see it… if you know what I mean ;) It's safe to say he'll shower your tattoo with kisses everytime when you're getting busy.

He has already seen you (without you knowing it) in your wedding dress. He knew exactly what was going on when you waltzed happily past him with a big package... And even if he hesitated for a moment, he followed you discreetly like a pretty good stalker… He peered through the gap of the door to the room you shared. You were apparently so excited that you hadn't even closed the door. He heard you squealing happily in the bathroom and without really realizing it, he held his breath until you came out of the bathroom. And then you stood there in your beautiful white dress. The feeling in his chest increased rapidly as he watched you twirl in front of the mirror like a princess. Your laughter makes him grin… "I guess she's just as happy as I am that we're getting married..." he thought to himself with a satisfied expression as he let go of the door and walked away. He leaves you a little moment for yourself and your joy, he'll see you walking towards him soon anyway. He is pretty sure that he will never forget that moment. The sight of you walking towards him will be engraved in his brain.

𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜

You want fireworks that paint your faces in the sky? A thousand white doves that are released when you kiss? A 10 meter high chocolate fountain? A wedding in pink? No problem. Your list is long and you get everything you want. Doflamingo will put together the perfect team to fulfill your every wish. Money doesn't matter, but you do.

You get a ring with a gemstone you've never seen before. Even if you express your doubts that you are afraid of losing this precious ring, Doffy reacts almost insulted. You are the rarest and most valuable gemstone in the world. If you lose the ring, he'll have a new one before you know it.

It's going to be a big big wedding BUT not many people are invited because there's a chance of someone ruining it. Whoever is invited is a big figure or part of the family. Everything is secured but not in an oppressive way. It all plays in the background, because if there were security guards everywhere it would ruin your perfect wedding picture. Nobody is allowed to ruin this day for you and him and if they do, they will pay for it. He also has the wedding broadcast live on TV so that everyone can see that he's marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. How extra.

Masterlist

I hope you enjoyed reading it. See you next time <3

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡

[pseudowho]

The Rebounds

When your boyfriend dumps you, Maki and Yuuta know exactly how to cheer you up.

I don't normally write "aged up" fics but...here we go.

Warnings: 18+, soft!Dom Yuuta and less-soft!Dom Maki (bit of a drill sergeant really), lingerie, sex toys, threesome, double-penetration, alcohol use

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"You're...breaking up with me? After everything I've done for you-- don't you dare hang up-- bastard!"

You flung your phone across the sofa, burying your face in your hands, barely suppressing a tearful, infuriated scream. He was shit, but he was yours, and he had the audacity to toss you out like yesterday's newspaper--

A knock on your door. Not caring who it was, you snapped, shouting.

"Fuck off! I'm not home."

"Hey! Lose the attitude." Your door swept open with a bang, rattling against the wall. Maki stepped in without apology, dropping a bagged Cursed weapon on your doorstep, "You're the one who asked me to bring this--...what's up with you? Are you crying?"

Yuuta peered in behind Maki, dark hangdog eyes spotting you, concerned; "Crying? Hey, what's happened?" Yuuta nudged past Maki, stepping over to you, and grasping your shoulders, soft calloused hands surprisingly strong against your skin.

Arms around your knees, you hid your face, ashamed for being such a blotchy mess; "He dumped me. Just...called me up, and dumped me. Like I'm trash."

Yuuta's face crumpled for you, the briefest flash of anger, overlaid with sympathy. He opened his mouth to speak, Maki interrupting.

"Finally. That piece of shit was never worth yo--"

"Maki," chided Yuuta, still stroking your shoulders, gripping and possessive. Maki tsked, arms folded, turning aside, hovering between you and the door.

"...you shouldn't waste your time worrying about that guy," Maki offered, voice tight but softer now. She was silent for a moment, and Yuuta looked to her, silent agreement passing between them.

"She's right," offered Yuuta, bright, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, cupping your tearstained face. Yuuta looked to Maki again, a glint of something odd in his eyes. Maki nodded, barely perceptible.

"...in fact, you should come with us. We're going out! Dinner, drinks...we'll show you a good time instead, yeah?"

You prickled with shame again, eyes squeezing shut as Yuuta shushed you, pulling you to your feet, pushing you to Maki who began to bustle you to your bedroom while you argued weakly; "--...no, guys, I-- I'm not third wheeling, I don't need you to take me with you out of pity-- I'm interrupting--"

They spoke over you, Yuuta still holding you by the shoulders from behind while Maki perused your wardrobe.

"--'third wheeling', psh--"

"How could we ever pity our lovely friend--'

"--not interrupting anything, what do you think this is, huh--"

"Just some drinks, some dinner, maybe a bit of shopping..."

Maki held up a little red dress, looking to Yuuta; Yuuta nodded. Maki flicked her hand at Yuuta, banishing him from the room, before stepping to you, brandishing the dress.

"Get changed," she ordered, "or I'll do it for you."

You pouted, grumbling, beginning to strip while Maki rummaged for shoes. She pulled out some trainers, comparing them to your dress. Her eyes narrowed at you, half dressed, turning aside again and holding the shoes out to you.

"These. You'll look...cute." You scoffed, brushing your hair, making yourself presentable.

When you stepped out, Yuuta looked you up and down approvingly, catching Maki's eye again with that same unreadable glint; "His loss! You're our pretty girl for today then, huh?" You blushed, churlish that their attempts to cheer you up were working.

And treat you well they did, knowing you as only old friends do. Within a few hours, you found yourself smiling again, laughing alongside them as you ate, all of you handsy and affectionate; Maki, feeding you as Yuuta took photos of you both, eyes soft and full of love; Yuuta, reaching over to whirl little circles on your inner wrist; both of them, leaning in close, pressing against you as you broke down, sobbing quietly into your soju.

You hiccuped, the floral alcohol cut with your salty tears; "I just...I just don't understand why...why I'm not good enough..." you gulped, knocking back another shot.

"You're beautiful," Maki snipped, bluntly refilling all of your glasses, "and he couldn't see that." She slipped an arm round you from behind, her fine slim fingers coiling over your hip, stroking you.

"But we can," Yuuta cooed, "and we'll treat you like you deserve to be treated...because you are beautiful." His fingers continued to draw soft circles on your palm, your inner wrist, heading up your soft sensitive forearm. You shivered, the alcohol making your nerves electric, receptive. Yuuta smiled at your shiver, face leaned on one palm, eyes dark as they trailed, intoxicated, down your body. He sighed.

"I don't think she believes us, you know," he said to Maki. Maki huffed, her fingertips kneading at your hip as she tugged you closer. She took another shot, refilling her glass and pressing it to your lips.

"Open up," she commanded, smirking as you swallowed, some of the sweet wine dripping down your neck and breasts in your haste. You felt Maki's breath catch as her eyes followed the droplet.

"You're all sticky," Maki chastised, her finger grazing the drop away, pressing into your mouth so you could suck it off her finger, "...messy girl." Your skin burned, feeling like forbidden fruit beneath their touch. Yuuta watched you suck the soju off Maki's finger, the strange glimmer in his eyes growing deeper as his head dipped downwards, fringe flicking forward over his eyes.

"You're right," he hummed to Maki, whirling his glass, eyes still dipped and flinty as he took in Maki's arm around your waist; the way she pressed a kiss to your temple; how you slumped against her, supple and seeking warmth; how your fingers twitched as his drew hearts over your inner arm.

"She is messy," Yuuta continued, finishing the last of the soju, "we should...get her cleaned up, huh?" Maki smiled into your hair, humming, laughing as you trembled under her warm, botanical breath.

"Guys," you hummed, swoopy and warm with the drink, "you don't have to do this--"

"Have to?" Yuuta laughed, pulling you forwards by the forearm so you were nose to nose with him for a moment, close enough that his lips brushed against yours as he spoke, farqq enough to almost be an accident; "We don't have to...we want to. You deserve the best date. Right, Maki?"

Maki was already up, a smile at the corner of her mouth as she helped you to stand. You blushed, sputtering.

"--a date, I--guys--"

"Friends can go on dates," Maki insisted, her arm round your waist as Yuuta loped beside you, bopping his forehead to your shoulder, "but while we're here...there's something I'd like to get. Come on."

You were steered into a lingerie shop, suddenly surrounded by fragrant musk, silk, lace and erotica. You laughed as Yuuta gripped you by the waist, twirling you in the low lights. He smiled, pulling you into his deceptive softness, penetrating your defences. He dipped you back to some unheard tune, leaning down to bracket you, whispering;

"See anything you like?"

With his gaze fixed firmly on you, your eyes caressed the bras, chemises, the beautiful indulgent treasures. Yuuta saw your eyes linger on a set, and nosed your jaw;

"That one, huh? You're so pretty anyway, and that one would be..." Yuuta left the sentence unfinished, and you became acutely aware of his closeness, body flush to his lean strength, something so dangerously hypnotic about him. You felt undressed, already, in his arms.

Maki had reappeared, a subtle paper bag in her hands. She communicated wordlessly with Yuuta, again, following your gaze. Rifling through the rails, and casting an appraising eye over your body, Maki settled and headed to pay. Opening your mouth to argue again, your breath caught as Yuuta pulled you up from your dip, the drink and attention rushing to your head once more, feeling so loved, so wanted. Maki cast her eyes up and down you both, slow, predatory.

"Home?" So much unspoken promise, from just one word. Maki's eyes lapped at your body, enough to make you tremble. Yuuta and Maki held you between them. You could hardly remember the journey home, their touches edging you somewhere between uncertainty and euphoria. You accepted it without question, as you had always accepted their love.

Stepping into your apartment, Yuuta closed the door behind you. He stayed with his back to you, fingers tapping against the door handle. You had leaned, head tipped back against the wall, sighing, softly drunk, heartbeat between your legs. You tipped your head to look at Yuuta questioningly as he spoke, his voice quiet and measured.

"Hey, Maki...go and get set up, yeah? I don't...I don't think I can wait any longer," he finished weakly, laughter on his breath. Maki smirked, her burns like a bed of rose petals in the low light.

"Alright." Maki leaned in, pressing lingering kisses to your forehead, your nose, hovering just so above your lips. Her fingertips brushed your jaw, and she whispered; "Yuuta's gonna get you warmed up, okay baby?"

Maki walked away, taking your breath with her. Yuuta filled the gap, and you burned alive under their attentions, his hands pressed to the wall either side of you, trapping you in his gravity.

"What do you deserve, pretty girl?" He whispered, shaky with restraint. All the wrong answers tried to claw their way out of you; Yuuta's eyes beseeched you to choose better for yourself, his lips achingly close to yours. You bit, to Yuuta's satisfied smile, choosing better.

"Y-you," you stuttered, meltingly desperate, "I deserve you."

Yuuta responded with a kiss; his self-restraint snapped, and he overlaid your body with his against the wall, melding to you as his hands tangled into your hair and his mouth to yours. You could taste the soju on his tongue, and you moaned softly, opening your mouth to him. Yuuta responded in kind, tilting your head to the side, his palms cupping your face, lips wet and trembling.

You could feel the breaths caught in his chest as his tongue stroked against yours, fingernails scratching at your scalp, hot and needy. Yuuta shunted his knee forward between your thighs, pinning you against the wall, one hand dropping to your hip, brushing under the hem of your dress to yank you down, pussy flush against his wiry thigh.

Pulling back, panting, Yuuta squeezed your cheeks in one hand, forcing your lips into a pout. Gritting his teeth, growling softly through them, he gave your face a gentle affectionate shake; "You taste like peaches, cutie, I always knew you would."

You squirmed, rutting yourself on his thigh, eager for relief in your aching core. Still squeezing your cheeks, giving them one soft slap, Yuuta tipped your face so you looked down at his thigh, his cock straining against the material of his trousers.

"I'll be honest...we've been waiting for you to break up with him. Even better that he ditched you...should we send him some pictures? Huh?" Reaching into his pocket, pulling out his phone, Yuuta turned your squished pouting face to the camera, and, pressing his lips hard to your puffy cheek, took a photo.

Yuuta groaned to feel you still humping him, desperate for friction. His hands dropped to your hips, rutting you against his thigh. He bit his lip, breathless, shaky as he tucked up your dress, watching your wet underwear barely covering your pussy, sliding against him. He laughed, soft, barely holding himself back from lifting you up and taking you against the wall.

"Oh baby," he teased, "not like this-- you deserve better--...and Maki's feeling left out, right?"

You jumped to hear Maki's voice to your right, head tipping as Yuuta lapped lazily at the fabric covering your nipples, spit seeping through, warm and wet; "I dunno...you two are putting on quite a show. Come to the bedroom. Date's not over yet." Yuuta moaned against your breasts, feeling their plush heave against his lips, his cock jumping against his thigh.

"Come on, peaches," he whispered, breath cooling your spit-wet breasts, "You've got a pretty outfit...it's Maki's turn with you...and I wanna watch."

Yuuta drew back from you, panting, gripping his cock through the light fabric of his trousers. If Maki hadn't stepped in, lifting you, wrapping your legs round her waist, your trembling knees would surely have given out. Nuzzling her nose against your mouth, stealing light kisses along the way, Maki chuckled, smirking; "You taste like Yuuta." You bit your lip, suddenly shy, nuzzling your face into Maki's neck as she laid you down softly onto your bed.

The room flickered with dulcet candlelight, smelling something fruity and familiar. Maki stood over you, taking a sip from a bottle as Yuuta crept in behind you, settling in an armchair beside the bed, still pawing at his aching cock.

"Wait-- Maki-- don't swallow...you should let her have a taste," Yuuta pressed, watching with hungry, hooded eyes as Maki hummed, smiling down at you. She leaned over you, one knee pressed between your thighs, one arm over your head, and pressed her pursed lips to yours. Kissing deeply and forming a seal, Maki slowly eked her tongue between your lips, drops of warm peach soju moving from her mouth to yours.

The body-warmed fumes rose up your nose, filling you with sweet botanical delight, bringing you back to the hazy drunk warmth you had felt during dinner, as Yuuta had stroked your arm so sweetly. Maki deepened the kiss, thrumming with excitement as she heard Yuuta unbuckle and unzip himself, letting his cock fall, hard and twitching, onto his belly.

Maki pulled your dress down your shoulders, trapping your arms for a moment, until they released, the red fabric sliding all the way down and pooling over your lap. Maki grasped your underwear with it, shooting Yuuta a wicked look; "Don't look-- she isn't dressed yet."

Yuuta laughed, one hand lazily pumping his cock, and he brought the other up over his eyes, still grinning. You couldn't take your eyes off him, stroking himself to Maki kissing peaches into you, masturbating to her rolling your clothes down off your body. Yuuta listened instead, his hearing piqued to the soft fabric rustle of your dress hitting the floor, and Maki lifting the dusty-rose chemise out of the bag.

"Taste like a peach...look like a peach," she pressed, brushing the chemise over your bare breasts, mouth watering at how your nipples pebbled and peaked under the sheer chiffon. Maki leaned into you again, ghosting her lips over yours; she caught your eyes, dragging your gaze over to Yuuta, biting her lip-- "If you think Yuuta's cock looks pretty now...wait until you're all dressed up."

"Maki!" Yuuta whined, his cock pre-cum-wet and twitching in his fist, his eyes still covered, "Stop. You'll make me blush." He paused, his hand and breath hesitant, "Is she...is she watching me?"

Maki grinned, wicked; "mmmmmhm." Yuuta groaned, long and anguished, squeezing the base of his cock again to stop himself from spilling over his lap, squeezing the hand over his eyes. Maki only laughed, standing back, pacing like an animal as you slipped into the pink chemise, split at the front, lighter than blossoms.

"Oh, Yuuta...you should see her," Maki praised, and you blushed, feeling so much more desirable under the gaze of a beautiful woman over a man, "she really is lovely." Yuuta had slowly dropped his hand from his eyes, hand cupping his cockhead with a shiver as he drank you in, supple and glassy-eyed beneath Maki, who rolled two pink rubber buds between her fingers.

Taking another sip of her soju, leaning in to kiss you again, you felt Maki graze something over the barely-there fabric covering your nipples. Suddenly so thirsty, lifting your hands to tangle in her short hair, Maki moaned into you as you kissed harder, drinking from her, desperate for more. Finally, you spoke.

"Maki, I-- don't leave me like this, give me something," you whimpered, your clit throbbing and needy, knowing you needed the barest of touches to bring you to completion.

"Don't be a brat," Maki chastised, making you blush and bite your lip up at her, "Or can you not wait? Do you want me to stop? Yuuta, shall I stop?"

"No!" You cried, you and Yuuta simultaneous in your desperation, him edging his weeping cock so fervently, you thrumming with the need for release, the day's little touches and promises and drink, all rolling into the slowest orgasm you had ever had built.

Maki smirked, and abruptly clamped two rubbery clips over your nipples, pinched hard beneath rosy fabric. You squealed, and cried out, bucking as she switched them on, sharp vibrations shooting through your nipples, tugging like a fishing line, making your clit throb with need.

Maki watched you writhe, slowly stripping her own clothes, hesitating for a moment as her burns became bare in the candlelight. Yuuta felt her, shaking with closely controlled restraint as he looked at her and you, eyes sticky-sweet.

"--my two beautiful girls, huh?" He grinned, circling his cockhead with a wet thumb, "...how did I...ever get so lucky?" Maki blushed, biting her lip as she finished stripping, looking down at you, mewling and squirming, in awe. She knelt down over you, smiling, a long, vibrating dildo at her fingertips.

"Yeah...you're right. We struck gold." Maki watched you, captivated as you babbled, whimpering, begging, tears streaming down into your hair. Yuuta felt a drip of sweat run down his chest, unbuttoning himself, letting his top sit open, releasing his cock with clenched knuckles, eager not to spend himself until he could be inside you.

Maki squeezed lube onto your glistening pussy, making you jolt and shiver with the sudden cold, until Maki shushed you again, kissing you firmly; "Be patient...I'll warm it up." You and Yuuta moaned, both twisting in divine bliss as Maki slipped her slim fingers between your folds, finding your clit with the expert precision of another woman, circling it with two delicate fingers, alternating pressure, toying with you.

"Inside," Yuuta barked, authoritative in his desperation, huffing, his cock twitching against his belly, "--tell me-- tell me how she feels, Maki." Maki obliged, her fingers dipping lower, grazing over your entrance, covering you with cum-slick lube.

"...silky..." Maki described, to Yuuta's chipped groans, "...and..." Maki hit your knees with her own, spreading your thighs wide, baring you to her, and she plunged two fingers deep inside your fluttering cunt, gasping with delight, "...tight...like wet velvet."

Yuuta cursed under his breath, his head tipped back, hand clasped over his mouth as he began to pump his cock again, jerking himself back to the edge. Maki pumped her fingers into your sloppy pussy, bringing one thumb up to work on your clit.

You came embarrassingly fast, the accumulated touches throughout the course of the day too much, and you felt your arousal trickle out over Maki's fingers. Her eyes furious with focus, Maki continued to thrust her fingers in and out of you, her thumb moving to stimulate your clit from another angle, expert in her gentle overstimulation.

Maki bit her lip, thrilled by her own unmet need, throbbing under Yuuta's obsessive stare. The self-denial while watching you fall apart beneath her was delicious. You cried out, clutching her arms, trying to wiggle your hips away from her as she yanked you back to her, hushing you.

"Come on, baby," she pushed, "just one more...then you can have Yuuta's cock, 'cos he can't last any longer." One sideways glance to Yuuta, arched backwards and serene with the edge of his orgasm, sent you over the edge again, and he gripped the base of his cock once more as you arched, crying out, lights popping in your vision and fizzing down your body.

"Maki--" Yuuta urged, voice brittle with need, "--my turn-- need her now--" Maki huffed at Yuuta's lack of self-restraint, smirking at him, whining, hand wet with pre-cum. Maki lifted you up off the bed, soft and floppy, knees still hanging over the edge, and Yuuta slipped underneath you, mirroring your position, eagerly lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance. As he moved to push into you, his arms gripping you from behind, an arresting clasp across your chest and belly, Maki gripped him by the cock, stopping him as he cried out, voice hoarse.

"Hey, did I say she was ready?" Maki sniped, rolling her eyes as you and Yuuta moaned and argued with her. Her hands still covered in lube, she took the vibrating dildo she'd been fingering for so long, rolling it in lube and your generous, sticky cum. You trembled, reading Maki's intent immediately.

"Maki, I-- they won't-- won't both fit," you squeaked, Maki humming at your meagre protests as she rubbed the dildo at your entrance, switching on the vibration and edging it slowly past your swollen, puffy entrance.

"I dunno," she mused, "I wanna see how fast Yuuta cums like this." Yuuta shuddered, his cock still gripped in Maki's hand, Yuuta squeezing you harder above him as you trembled and shook, the dildo hitting your cervix, sending vibrations deep into your belly.

Maki stroked Yuuta's cock, throbbing in her hand as he bucked, teeth gritted, sweating with restraint; "Maki," he snapped, "let me fuck her-- I swear to god I'll kick your--"

"--careful special grade. Don't threaten me with a good time." Yuuta coughed, tormented, blinkered by his own impending orgasm as you writhed, blinded by your own pleasure in his arms. Maki was almost overcome by the sight of you both in blissful agony beneath her, almost cumming untouched, the tension of the build-up so much better than the payoff.

Maki finally released him, dropping to her knees between yours and Yuuta's. She lifted your legs, draping them over Yuuta's thighs, and pushed Yuuta's knees, forcing your legs to spread. She kept the dildo vibrating inside you, juddering with incoordinate twitches now, floating above yourself.

Finally released, Yuuta bit into your shoulder, groaning in your ear as his cock started to press into you alongside the vibrating dildo, stretching your pussy more than it had ever been stretched, so full, from cunt to belly; "Just hold onto me, peaches, yeah?"

In one swift thrust, Yuuta bottomed out, shouting and cursing, his cock gripped by the slick, impossibly tight heat of your pussy, the dildo vibrating relentlessly against the underside of his length.

"--oh my--shit, Maki, 's too muc, fuck! Ohhh fuck-- fuck-- fuck--"

Maki leaned in, two fingers rolling over her clit as she lapped yours into her mouth, flicking her tongue across you, sucking, nipping, tasting the peach lube she had covered you with. Lost in this semi-drunk haze, she continued to edge herself to the sight of you, spasming in forced orgasm after orgasm, under her mouth.

Yuuta rutted up into you helplessly, arms shaking around you. His seed spattered your cervix and the dildo white, cumming so violently that he curled in on himself beneath you, forcing you to curl with him. Maki watched it all, pupils blown, stroking her clit just enough to keep herself from orgasm.

You continued to pant and whimper, still so full, your pussy clenching urgently, wildly overstimulated. Maki took pity on you both, switching the dildo off, slipping it out of you and letting it drop with a wet cum-splatter. It pulled Yuuta's dripping cock out with it, and you whined, suddenly so empty, Yuuta nuzzling and kissing your cheeks, trying to bring you both down from your high. He chuckled, breathless in your ear

"What a date, huh? You should get dumped again, sometime."

[vivicas-dollhouse]

Creepypasta sex headcannons: updated!

*note: my hcs have changed around nina, she is no longer a minor. Just around 19-23 and immature.

Pastas featured: jeff, toby, masky, hoodie, ej, nina, jane, and clockwork

1.1k words, enjoy~

JEFF THE KILLER

•MEAN. SO MEAN.

•would degrade the shit out of you, hoping to make you cry either in pain or of shame.

•lowkey has a breeding kink, he MAKES his cum stay in you. Be sure to be on birth control.

• “your gonna cum until you break sweetheart,”

•LOVES orgasm control, he can cum but you? Absolutely not.

•when you do get to cum, hes still not stopping. He doesn't care if you scream or bleed, that makes it hotter

•his favorite position is missionary only because he can see you cry and your tits bouncing.

•usually only goes for women, but if hes desperate he will fuck a guy. Its just not as fun for him.

•he hopes youll be bleeding by the end of your session, but bruises are good too. You'll definitely have a lot of those.

•he doesn't believe in foreplay, he wants to get to the point and get out. No aftercare either.

TICCI TOBY

•lowkey a whiny bitch

•100% switch, mainly because he likes being beneath you but also has a desire for control

•he loves giving his partner head, whether they are male or female. He loves hearing all the noises they make, how they squirm.

•his favorite position with girls is cowgirl, he will grab onto her hips and leave marks with his nails that sting

•with men, he just likes whatever. As long as he gets off.

•prefers women, but also loves men about the same. Women are more arousing, but men are a better orgasm

•hes pretty gentle, making sure you know your loved before during and after.

•likes being praised, he melts if you call him a good dog

MASKY

•gay. so gay.

•he is a soft dom, enjoying the power dynamics but not wanting to hurt you TOO bad.

•he likes breath play, enjoying watching you gasp as he plows into you

•he tries not to cum in you, but every once in a while he will on accident. You just feel so damn good!

•he doesn't praise or degrade really, he just states what he thinks and doesn't go over that. If you act like a slut, you are a slut. If you act like a good boy, you are a good boy.

•he doesn't like leaving marks, he thinks since he hates it that everyone else does

•does very good aftercare, always taking care of you or running a hot bath for the two of you. He will get you anything you want for being so obedient

•he isnt a face fucker, he lets you go at your own pace and is appreciative with what you do

•hes fairly vanilla, you wouldn't expect it when looking at him.

HOODIE

•also gay

•he… hes a FREAK

•he loves bringing weapons into bed, holding a gun to your head as he rails you makes him insane, loaded or not.

•he loves hitting you, watching your dumb face turn red from his slaps

•predator/prey dynamic is his SHIT, he loves inflicting genuine fear in his partner.

•IF you can get him to submit (good luck) hes a complete brat. He will need a muzzle because he WILL bite

•acts more like a feral dog than partner in bed, biting and bruising you at every chance. If your not sore tomorrow then hes failed.

•he can and WILL fuck your face until you cant breathe. The tears make it hotter.

•he refuses to give head. Not even 69.

•after all this, he goes back to his usual self, taking good care of you while you shake. He will pamper you like a prince because you took it so well, and hes so proud of you.

EYELESS JACK

•bisexual king, we stan

•he is literally part feral, so sex is…insane

•with women, he loves fucking your pussy with all of his tounges and watching you writhe and tense around his tounge.

•with men, he just plows. Doggy style.

•his dick is MASSIVE, good luck fighting off multiple orgasms

•he prioritizes his partners orgasms over his own, he can get off with anyone, but you are special. You are his, and you deserve the best

•he is very possessive over you, you are his main priority and he loves you.

•back to the sex

•he growls and groans loudly, he is insanely and unapologetically noisy.

•his cum is sterile to humans, so he creampies you as much as he wants knowing he will never be a father

•he loves foreplay, nuzzling, purring, and kissing all over you until your begging for him

•aftercare is the same, he will curl up around you after getting you whatever you want and not move for hours while you sleep

HOMICIDAL LIU

•hes so sweet, but still a top

•he only dates women, and treats his partner like royalty

•he isnt very rough, but he knows how to maintain control of the situation.

•he loves giving head, gently lapping at you and fingering you is the happiest he will be.

•he loves hearing you moan, the sounds drive him insane and get him harder than your body will (for good or bad)

•he loves fucking you in front of a mirror so you can see how pretty and slutty you look, not necessarily to humiliate you

•he personally prefers anal, but he will do anything you want

•he prioritizes slow, loving sex that feels good to drag out, not necessarily a fuck fest see-how-much-you-can-cum game

•he almost enjoys before and after as much as the sex, watching you get flustered and worked up is all he can want

NINA THE KILLER

•into mainly men, but loves a girl every once in awhile

•shes a sub, but a bratty one. Shes not making it easy.

•she wants to be broken, the rougher the sex the better

•she loves both giving and receiving head, wanting to be a desperate mess for her partner

•she loves being marked up, she wants people to know shes taken

•she loves to be choked almost to the point of passing out and being slapped back to consciousness

•shes very giggly and noisy, not afraid if people hear

•she loves the use of toys, anything to highten her orgasm

•edges herself for hours when alone, its just heaven to finally release

•she loves being treated like a cat, petplay queen

•wears a collar with her partners name on it

•loves being tied up so she can be used against her will for as long as her partner wants.. cnc kink goes crazy

JANE THE KILLER

•shes a lesbian!! Hell yeah

•shes a hard dom, taking full control of the bedroom at all times

•she LOVES treating her partner as subhuman, watching them grovel at her feet gets her off so good

•she ties her partner up at all chances, using their body as her personal canvas

•she loves 69, its the ultimate pleasure

•she will eat you out for hours, your at HER mercy, remember? SHE controls everything about what happens in here

•pet play is top tier, she loves putting her doggie on a leash and watch them eat her out

•she loves to put a slip chain on you and dragging you around her room, watching you sway from oxygen loss

•expect multiple orgasms, from every way possible

•once shes done making you cum, she will give you the best aftercare possible, making sure you know your loved and cared for

CLOCKWORK

•doesn't really enjoy sex with anyone, sticking to solo play. That sexual trauma is strong

•she uses toys all the time, its hardly a session without a rabbit vibrator.

•shes quiet, she doesn't like to make any noise at all.

•shes just too messed up to enjoy sex, so theres not much to say

[callsign-datura]

a/n: thought this shit up mid genshin session, grind mode pls ignore any mistakes

there are only two things ghost is willing to be patient or gentle with. one, you, and two, his weapons.

the same hands with which ghost cleans a rifle are the same hands he uses to hold your hips down as you squirm in his lap from the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you. he chastises you gently, peppering kisses along your jaw through the fabric of his mask. you smell so nice. he knows he smells like gunpowder and blood. but you, you kinky thing, can't seem to get enough of the feeling.

the care with which he cleans the carbon buildup on his rifle is the same care with which he fucks you. usually there isn't much to clean, usually he maintains a cleaning routine. but sometimes time gets away from him and he finds himself cleaning the weapons he uses the most. his squadmates get their subordinates to clean their weapons when they're working with another team-- something about superiority. most men find cleaning their weapons... annoying, tedious, a waste of time. him? he enjoys it. it helps him relax. maybe it's a coincidence that you help him relax as well.

calloused fingers work in and out of you slowly as he leans over your body. his other hand is planted on the bed beside your hip, russet eyes piercing into yours while he watches your expression. his body feels heavy with exhaustion but his hand is still slow and gentle, unhurried, fleeting tingles of electricity shooting through your body as his fingers curl upwards, searching along your inner walls for a moment before they stop suddenly. you're panting, chest heaving while you shift and turn beneath him, your hips arching against his touch and your head falling back against the pillow under your head. his gaze flickers over your face before down to your chest, then down to where his fingers are inside you. his thumb swings up and over before planting the pad against your clit, applying pressure slowly in swirling strokes as he rolls his pointer and middle into you. he teases you, grazing your g-spot just barely. you know he's smirking under that damn mask, and part of you wants to push it up to see whether or not his lips are quirked into a smirk. you imagine it through the haze of pleasure-- red-pink, thin lips flat other than a barely noticeable twitch of the left corner. the thought makes your heart thump, and you offer a strangled moan before you tilt your head forward and tuck your face into his shoulder.

a low chuckle leaves him, and he tilts his head, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead as he adjusts his intimidating figure above yours. his knees are planted in line with and between yours, though he makes no move to keep them from shaking. he finds it amusing, the way you squirm, so he allows you to continue.

he's going slow on purpose, and it's driving you fucking mad.

"ghost," you mumble, your voice meek and shaky as you lean closer to him. "need more."

he pauses. "really?" he responds, his voice low as he nuzzles his face into the side of your head. "thas' a shame," he murmurs, the smirk audible. "m'fingers are a bit sore. gonna have to take what you can get. ya know, beggars can't be choosers, n' all that..." you can feel him suppress a laugh. he pushes his fingers upwards swiftly to put direct pressure on your g-spot at the same time he adopts an up-down-up-down pattern over your clit with his thumb. your body jolts in response to the sudden change, and your head falls back as you moan out. you jolt once, then again when the pace doesn't slow. your shoulders draw together and you whine.

"mmh-- fuck. jus like that, ghost, please," you squeak, your voice coming out lewd in a way that would make satan blush. "nh-- feels so good..." you trail off, your hips bucking against his fingers as warmth blossoms over your insides. you can't focus on much more than his fingers, and the way he chuckles in your ear almost makes you cream on his digits. thankfully, you don't, but he must've sensed that you almost did, because his pace increases. his eyes are still boring into you, trailing over every feature of your body. your perky tits that rise and fall with your chest, your nipples hard against the fabric of the t-shirt you're wearing. his t-shirt, he realizes, and he clicks his tongue. chastising you once more, but not slowing down, he says, "stealin' my clothes again?" and you can't find it in you to say more than a lazy "m'sorry," your voice slurred by the pleasure of his fingers working into you. he's not rough, you find. his fingers move quickly enough into you that your thoughts fall apart and your body follows suit as you melt into his touch.

"tch. you're not sorry." he purrs, trying to sound like he's scolding you, but the affectionate undertone in his voice assures you that he isn't actually upset. not that you'd care.

or, rather, not that you could care. the coil in your stomach tightens to an unbearable level and he croons at you. "'f i make you cum, are you gon' start askin' for my clothes instead of stealin' em from me?" his words go through one ear and out the other as his fingers, long and thick, curl upwards into your g-spot. he twitches them against it, your cunt clenching around him and making a squelch that turns your face red. "uh-huh." you agree, but your voice lacks conviction.

"you sure?" he asks, leaning down and tilting your head with the hand that was holding himself up. your eyes flutter open and make contact with his, blinking away the blurriness as your mouth falls open in pleasure, a squeaking noise leaving your throat. he laughs quietly, shaking his head. "you don't sound very sure..." "i am!" you reassure, your hips lifting to chase more friction. he obliges, moving his fingers a bit faster at an angle that makes your legs turn to jelly. "i am, i am, i am," you repeat, your head falling to the side as he finally frees you. that hand finds purchase on your chest, squeezing your tit. his cock stirs in his pants at the sight of you, but he ignores it. he continues, and when your eyebrows knit so sweetly, he rubs your clit a bit faster, lulling you into your orgasm. your clit twitches and your walls clench on his fingers but that does not deter him. your moans become tense cries, and your hands grip his biceps and dig your nails into his flesh as your back arches. "cumming--" you cry, and he croons once more. "mmhm, that's it, pretty girl. lemme hear you. who's makin' you cum?" he asks, the low and husky timbre of it making you cum harder. warmth falls over your body and your eyes roll back. you feel like electricity is zapping you every time his thumb rolls over your clit.

"you are," you heave. "ghost-- fuck..." "no, babe... not quite. who's making you cum?" he reiterates, as if that would clear it up. the pleasure is gradually ebbing into oversensitivity. "not gonna stop till you say the right name," he purrs.

oh. you get it now.

"simon! ah, simon." you might as well be shrieking. your throat feels as if you have been for the past few hours, and maybe you have-- you can't remember. suddenly he pulls his fingers from your cunt, letting go of your tit as he sits back on his legs and eases you up into an embrace, your lazy body easily following his movements. he wraps an arm around your waist and looks at the cum coating his fingers. he chuckles again, wiping his fingers off on his leg. your eyes flutter shut and you let out a sigh, body slumping against his before he gently hoists you up and gets off the bed, going towards the bathroom. "was that good, sweet thing?" he asks, setting you on the bathroom counter as he pushes your legs apart before going to get a rag. your sleepy hum of agreement makes his heart warm. any other day he'd have fucked you after, but he gets pleasure from giving you pleasure... and besides, staying pent up until the next time he actually fucks you is better anyhow. maybe it's three things he's patient and gentle with-- his guns, you, and the aftercare he knows you need after you've been fucked dumb.

[madamejadex]

I’ve spoken before about the importance of healthy, respectful behavior from Dominants and how damaging poor dominance can be. But today, I want to gently shine a light on the other side of the slash. Because while submission is a beautiful, vulnerable offering… it’s also a role that comes with responsibility. And sometimes, submissives (just like Dominants) can fall into patterns of poor etiquette, disrespect, or even toxic behavior. Please understand that this isn’t about blame, shame or character assassination. It’s about creating awareness.

So let’s talk about a few behavior that can be harmful coming from the submissive side.

🖤 Topping from the bottom. This doesn’t mean expressing a need or asking for negotiation, it means trying to control the scene while it's happening. If you’ve consented to submit, then suddenly start giving instructions, correcting your Top, or trying to steer the entire experience without consent, you’re not submitting, you’re attempting to dominate the Dominant. And in a scene, this can not only break the energy, it can be deeply damaging and disrespectful. And in worst case scenario it can force the dominant into a Dom drop.

Something to keep in mind: If you can't surrender, you're not ready to submit.

*do not confuse this with Power Bottoms.

🖤 Withholding communication or using emotional shutdown as control. Going silent after a scene, refusing to use your safeword but still holding resentment, or using vulnerability as leverage (“If you loved me, you’d know what I need”), that’s not healthy submission. That’s emotional manipulation. You are responsible for your voice, your words, and your accountability.

🖤 Ignoring boundaries and consent. Yes, Dominants have boundaries too. No, we don’t exist solely to fulfill your fantasies on demand. Sending explicit messages without consent, pressing for intimacy, or guilt-tripping for attention is not cute. It’s disrespectful.

🖤 Entitlement masked as submission. Just because you want to serve someone doesn’t mean they owe you their time, dominance, or energy. Offering your submission doesn’t guarantee it will be accepted, and expecting otherwise is deeply inappropriate.

🖤 Emotional manipulation or sulking when corrected Power exchange isn’t one long validation session. Sometimes you’ll be corrected, held accountable, or reminded of a boundary. If your response is to pout, guilt-trip, or withdraw affection to punish your Dominant, that’s not submission. It's immaturity.

🖤 Using trauma or insecurity to avoid accountability. We all carry wounds. But weaponizing your past to excuse poor behavior, dodge growth, or demand someone else to carry your emotional load is unfair to everyone involved. Healing is a journey, and yes, a Dominant can be part of that. But the dominant isn't your therapist, and they aren't there to carry what you’re unwilling to face.

🖤 Bratting without negotiation. A little brattiness can be charming if it’s consensual, desired, and part of the dynamic. But bratting as a constant challenge to authority, especially without discussion, is just another form of disrespect.

🖤 Publicly disrespecting your Dom/me (or any Dom/me). Whether it’s sarcasm, teasing, or trying to embarrass your Dom/me in front of others- if it hasn’t been negotiated, it’s not dynamic play... it’s humiliation. And that’s a hard no.

Something to keep in mind: a submissive who can’t honor their Dominant publicly isn’t ready to serve them privately.

🖤 Comparing your Dom/me to others. Your Dominant is not a customizable fantasy doll. They are a person. And telling them someone else was “stricter,” “hotter,” or “more intense” is just a way to show you don’t know how to honor what you have.

So being a submissive does not exempt you from being self-aware, respectful, and emotionally present. In fact, those qualities make your submission more powerful, more beautiful, and more worthy of being held with care.

Just as I believe Dominance must be practiced with care, structure, and responsibility… Submission should be practiced with honesty, humility, and reverence.

You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be intentional. So if you’re going to kneel, do it with a heart ready to listen.

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 21]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

You didn't miss the way Hongjoong's face fell when you retracted your hand. His own hand fell back by his side as his eyes searched yours, waiting for you to say something. Did you like Hongjoong? Was that why you were feeling all these different feelings when you were around him?

"I realise this is a lot for you to take in now. You don't have to say anything." Hongjoong spoke first. The silence was killing him and he just needed to break it before he breaks.

"I'm scared." You admitted.

"Why?" He didn't expect you to say that, he thought you would tell him that you didn't feel the same or that you liked him back.

"Hongjoong, what if you only feel this way because I am a connection to your mother? I know you don't have an ulterior motive consciously but maybe it's subconscious-"

"No, don't say that. If you don't feel the same way back, that's fine. But don't... just don't..." His jaw clenched, unintentionally snapping at you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered.

"It's alright. This is a lot, I shouldn't have..." Hongjoong was now feeling the weight of his words sink in.

"No! No... It's not like that. Please don't feel bad, this is all on me. You telling me this actually helps, it answers a lot of questions I've been having." You said, making his eyes light up slightly.

"But Hongjoong, even if I do feel the same way for you, I don't know if I can go through this, knowing that there's so much more to your life that I don't know about. I don't know the real you yet, we've only just started really knowing each other." You confessed.

"I understand. (y/n), I do want to let you into my world, to see and know the real me but the thought of you getting hurt because of me... I can't fathom..." He sighed.

"Whether you let me in now, as a friend or as a romantic partner, I'm still going to be in danger, aren't I?" You questioned.

"Yes..." He nodded glumly with much guilt and shame.

"We haven't had a chance to even go out on a date yet. Shall we just go from there?" You offered a small smile. And Hongjoong hummed in agreement.

In reality, your heart was hurting. Of course, you like Hongjoong back but you couldn't bring yourself to give your heart over so quickly.

"I'll go." Hongjoong said. You took the initiative this time, wrapping your arms around his waist.

After seeing Hongjoong with all the rich daughters, you couldn't believe he was here, expressing his feeling for you. You were not like those opulent women, you couldn't just throw yourself at him.

"There has been no one else. I don't care about those rich girls. They're nothing to me." He whispered, as if he could hear your mental doubts.

"They may be more worth it than me." You said, words slightly muffled by his shoulder.

"No, don't say that. I just know you're so much better than them, you're more worth it and deserving than them, I'll prove it to you if you let me." He spoke with determination. When he felt you nod, he let out a small sigh of relief, you weren't outrightly rejecting him, you were giving him a chance.

"Goodnight. Don't stay out too late, go home and rest." He spoke softly and fondly, daringly giving you a kiss on your forehead before leaving the shop.

"Goodbye." You said to his retreating back but you doubt he could even hear you.

"He likes me..." You fell back into the chair, realisation hitting you. You buried your face into your hands.

You thought back to all the times you felt your heart race when you were with Hongjoong. It wasn't nerves or anything, now it was clear to you that you liked Hongjoong back.

It brought tears to your eyes. You were scared, you were confused, you felt guilt for the hurt that you caused Hongjoong.

Right now, you didn't know what to do. You had no one that you could talk to about this.

And you knew you had no right to feel upset because you were the one that pulled away, you were the one who set the boundary and was afraid to cross it.

Despite Hongjoong trying to hide it from you, the few times that you've encountered him outside, it was obvious that he and his brothers were involved in some illegal business. They could be running their own mafia syndicate.

Would you be able to live with that? You laid low your entire life, could you really throw that away and put yourself in the spotlight with Hongjoong as his partner?

All for the sake of love?

It was too much for you to think about now. All you wanted to do was go home and hide in bed.

Hongjoong didn't bother going back to the party. He sent a text to his brothers and went to one of his bars which was close by to where he was. All he wanted to do now was get drunk.

"Boss Kim." The staff greeted him.

"I'll be in my office. No one is to disturb me." He said briefly and walked up the stairs.

"Yes, boss." They all bowed, watching him trudge up the stairs. Entering his office, Hongjoong grabbed the entire whiskey bottle off the bar cart and a glass.

"You're an idiot." He told himself as he poured himself a glass and downed the contents in one go. Then he moved to refill his glass. Cradling the crystal in his hands, he slumped in his office chair.

He lifted his hand to look at it, clenching it into a fist. The feeling of you slipping your hand away from his, it was painful. But Hongjoong knew you were right. You didn't know each other enough to enter a relationship now. He'll just have to cast aside his worries and show you his true self.

"And this is my office." The door opened and Hongjoong raised his head with a frown. He gave orders to not be disturbed.

"B-Boss Kim!" The assistant manager jumped when he saw Hongjoong sitting in his office chair, obviously not expecting the main boss to be in his office.

"Your office?" Hongjoong seethed.

"Who is that?" The assistant manager's friends were confused, thinking there was a stranger in their friend's office.

"Is this how things have been running since I've not been here?" Hongjoong rose from his desk. He threw his crystal glass, crashing it into the wall by the assistant manager's head.

"GET OUT!" He roared, a threat that he won't miss the next time. The assistant manager and his friends ran off.

Has Hongjoong been that distracted that his staff were acting up without his knowledge? He was always on the ball on these things.

"Now I need another glass." Hongjoong cursed and went to get another glass from the bar cart, filling it up with more whiskey. But this time, he laid down on the couch instead of returning to sit in his office chair. Letting out a sigh, he gulped the alcohol.

RINGGGGG

"Mmmm...?" Hongjoong groaned and fished for his phone, pressing it to his ear.

"Are you dead in a ditch somewhere?"

"What do you need, Hwa? I'm gonna hang up..." He trailed off, on the brink of falling back asleep. Right now, he was nursing a bad headache from finishing off the whiskey last night.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get you."

"No." Hongjoong refused and hung up, cutting off Seonghwa's protests. He threw his phone aside and went back to sleep.

"God, why is there glass on the floor?" It only took about 30 minutes for Seonghwa to arrive at where Hongjoong was. Hongjoong was fast asleep, not aware of his best friend's arrival.

"Get someone to clean this up." Seonghwa ordered the manager, who bowed and scurried away.

"Kim Hongjoong, wake up." Seonghwa hit the back of Hongjoong's head. The captain finally stirred, holding his already hurting head and curling up into a ball, away from Seonghwa. Seonghwa didn't even need to go close to Hongjoong, he could smell the alcohol that reeked from the captain's body.

"Did you kill someone?" Seonghwa asked.

"No, I threw a crystal glass near his head but he was alive enough to run away with his friends. I missed on purpose." Hongjoong mumbled, eyes still closed.

"What happened? You left the gala and just disappeared. And dropping us a 'text' saying you're not coming back doesn't count."

"I don't want to talk about it..." Hongjoong said, knowing he sounds like an angsty teenager.

"Look, whatever happened between you and (y/n), you have responsibilities, Joong. You're the head of the family." Seonghwa sighed. Hongjoong finally sat up at that, looking at the taller.

"How did you know? Did she tell you? What did she tell you?" Hongjoong's eyes widened in panic.

"Calm down, I didn't even talk to her. I just assumed because your mood is very much related to (y/n) nowadays." He stated.

"Oh... It's fine. I'm just moping. Let's go home. I need to shower." Hongjoong stood up, grabbing his jacket from his desk while Seonghwa grabbed the phone that was tossed to the ground after the call earlier.

The two of them exited Hongjoong's office and everyone bowed to them as they walked down the stairs. Before heading to the car, Hongjoong turned to the manager.

"If I find out anyone is impersonating me and in my office without permission again, it'll be your head I go for next." He threatened.

"Y-Yes sir! It will never happen again. The assistant manager has been fired." The manager apologised.

"Good." Hongjoong nodded and left with Seonghwa. The driver came out with a greeting bow to Hongjoong and opened the door for the two oldest to enter.

"Let's go." Hongjoong said and the driver started the car.

"When we get home, go shower. We're holding a meeting to discuss the gala last night." Seonghwa informed.

"Okay, can you get the chefs to prepare me some food? I haven't eaten and I'm having hangover stomach." Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa nodded with a soft hum.

Hongjoong could be clumsy and forgetful, and Seonghwa might be naggy and 'uptight' but the two had a soft spot for each other, they'll always take care of each other, no matter what. That's what best friends do. And even if Seonghwa was nagging now, he was worried about Hongjoong.

"Welcome home, sirs." The butler greeted them at the door. Hongjoong dropped his jacket and made his way upstairs, wanting to take a warm shower.

"He's home?" San came out of the dining room.

"Yeah. But he wouldn't tell me what happened. It's obvious it had something to do with (y/n). He's so hungover." Seonghwa sighed.

"Did they fight?" Yunho asked worriedly. Seonghwa shrugged and went to the kitchen to ask the chef to prepare something for Hongjoong to nurse his hangover.

"And get him a hangover cure." He added before leaving to join the others in the living room.

"He's fine, everyone. Just get ready for the meeting." Seonghwa said, meeting the worried eyes of the other members.

"Yes, hyung." They replied and split up to get ready for the meeting. Mingi went to the computer room to get his information downloaded onto his tablet. Jongho and Yunho were inside, also putting together their meeting agendas.

"Do you have anything to do with last night?" Mingi asked his best friend. Yunho shook his head and the serious expression on his face indicated that he wasn't lying.

"Come on, Seonghwa hyung already said that Hongjoong hyung will be fine." Jongho said.

"It's not Hongjoong hyung I'm worried about. It's (y/n). Hongjoong hyung has us but who does she have?" Yunho pointed out.

"With hyung's temper..." Jongho added.

"Okay, let's not think the worst, especially of Hongjoong hyung. Maybe it's nothing and we're just jumping to conclusions." Mingi said, grabbing the tablet and leaving the computer room.

Hongjoong emerged from his bathroom, fresh out of the shower. He changed into a new suit and left his room.

"Your food is ready in the dining room, sir." The butler informed.

"I'm going to my office. Bring the food up to me." Hongjoong said, checking his phone. The butler nodded and bowed before walking away while Hongjoong headed to his office. He sat down and turned on his computer, sifting through all the mesages he missed yesterday while preparing for the gala.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Come in." Hongjoong called out, not looking up from his screen as he typed away to reply to the more important messages.

"Sir." The butler came in with his tray of food. Hongjoong knocked his fist against his desk and the butler carefully placed the tray of food before him, careful not to intrude in his space.

"That'll be all." Hongjong waved him off. The butler bowed and left the captain's office.

"Hangover cure..." He ignored the bottle and began to drink the soup.

*KNOCK*

"Who is it?" Hongjoong frowned as he looked up. There was another single knock and he beckoned for the person to come in. The door burst open and two men fell in.

"What's going on here?" He stood up, seeing the two practically crawling on the ground, injured beyond belief.

"B-Boss Kim..." They struggled.

"What happened?" Hongjoong asked, standing before them. Usually, they would handle issues on their own, that's what Hongjoong trained them for, but for them to show up to Hongjoong's office in such a state was concerning.

"We were ambushed, boss. In area 1..." The male coughed out, holding his ribs. Hongjoong chewed on his bottom lip, he checked his watch for the time.

"Clean yourselves up. I have a meeting but we'll talk after. Go get checked with the infirmary first." He said.

"Y-Yes, boss." The two supported each other and limped out of Hongjoong's office.

'Message to all teams that can spare men. Area 1 was ambushed and needs back up. Contact Area 1 team to ask for details and support them. - Hongjoong'

Hongjoong's phone buzzed with acknowledgement messages from his men. He didn't have time to read them now.

"Damn it." He reluctantly opened the bottle of hangover cure and downed it since he didn't have to finish the soup on his tray.

"Clear my tray." Hongjoong said to a passing maid, who nodded and bowed, entering Hongjoong's office. He wanted to just grab what he needed and go for the meeting but he had things to settle.

"Sir." The maid bowed and left his office with the tray. Seonghwa, who was walking past, glanced at the tray with practically 3/4 of the food left and swung by Hongjoong's office instead of going straight to the meeting room like he intended. He saw Hongjoong frantically sending messages and calls.

"Hongjoong, what's wrong?" Seonghwa tilted his head.

"Nothing. Just something I need to settle after the meeting." Hongjoong replied, too focused on his computer screen to give more details to his second in command.

"I'll see you at the meeting room." Seonghwa was about to leave him but Hongjoong stood up.

"I'll go with you! Hang on." Hongjoong clumsily flipped through the items on his desk, looking for his iPad and documents.

"Let's go." The two walked to the meeting room together. As usual, Hongjoong sat at the head of the table with Seonghwa on his right, just like how they sat at the dining table.

"Hey, hyungs." Mingi greeted as he shuffled in and took his seat. The others streamed in and all sat down in their seats.

"Does anyone need to get anything?" Seonghwa asked as San and Yeosang stood by the door.

"Nope." They all shook their heads.

"Alright, we're all here. Go ahead." San confirmed before Yeosang locked the meeting room door, securing it with the lock. They all heard the metal gears turn and lock into place, essentially locking all of them in the meeting room.

"Let's begin the meeting. Begin with the gala last night." Hongjoong instructed. Each of the boys gave a run down of the important conversations they had with different business partners.

"And we're sure we can trust him?" San asked.

"Yes, all background checks have come up clean, everything. We can trust him, for now at least." Jongho replied.

"Alright, make sure to run surveillance still. Next." Hongjoong waved and Yunho stepped up, presenting the main points of the conversation he had with the governor last night.

"That's all he's donating? What a cheapskate." Wooyoung rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.

"I have a strong feeling he doesn't think this initiative will take off well. But I'll be sure to convince him again, hyung." Yunho promised.

"Okay, you take care of that. And good job on the gala last night, Yunho." Hongjoong nodded, he was confident in each of the members' ability to 'convince' people.

"Thank you, hyung." Yunho bowed his head and the others all gave him smiles or thumbs ups.

After that, Hongjoong let Seonghwa address the room on other 'family' related matters. While the older spoke, Hongjoong drumed his fingers against the table top. Was he supposed to tell the members where he disappeared to last night? He felt like he owed them that much for being irresponsible.

"So, everyone has to be on the look out. We cannot afford to have a slip in judgement, it will not only affect us but affect everyone under us." Seonghwa said.

"Yes, hyung." The others nodded obediently.

"Hongjoong, anything to add?" Seonghwa turned to the captain, who was chewing the inside of his cheek.

"I would like to apologise for disappearing last night, it was irresponsible of me to do so as the captain. I know I owe all of you an explanation of where I was." Hongjoong breathed.

"It's okay, hyung. You don't have to tell us..." Wooyoung said, sensing Hongjoong turmoil.

"No, it's fine. I... confessed my romantic feelings for (y/n) last night." He revealed. Some boys' eyes widened in surprise.

"We decided to just get to know each other better before taking any steps forward. She's right, I keep a lot of secrets from her and am not honest about a lot of things." Hongjoong sighed.

"Wait, so you're going to tell her about Ateez?" Seonghwa blinked. Even if he was rooting for Hongjoong for a while, he never really thought about the implications of you knowing what they do. Would you become a liability?

"Eventually." Hongjoong nodded.

"What happens to us then?" Yeosang asked.

"Nothing will happen to any of you, nothing will change for you. (y/n) knowing Ateez will be my responsibility. Anything concerning her will be my responsibility." Hongjoong said.

"You already have a lot to take care of, hyung. Are you sure this is the right way to go?" Mingi pointed out.

"(y/n) means a lot to me, as do all of you. There's never too much when it comes to the people you love." The captain said seriously.

"I wish you and (y/n) all the best, hyung." Jongho smiled. Seonghwa reached out to squeeze Hongjoong's shoulder to show his wordless support too.

"We're not getting married but thanks." Hongjoong chuckled.

~

Series masterlist

[sparrows4bats]

Damian is Harleys Sidekick AU.

Thanks to @peterchubs for helping with name ideas!

So Talia drops Damian off in Gotham but not with Batman directly. She expects Damian to find his father. He's a smart boy, and there's very little that goes on in Gotham without her Beloved knowing.

The issue is that Damian knows his father is Batman, not that Batman is Bruce Wayne.

So, not willing to wait around for the vigilante to show up, 10 year old Damian decides he will establish himself as a hero first, then introduce himself to Batman and earn his fathers respect.

So, clad in his white training jumpsuit, a makeshift mask, and sword in hand, Damian Al Ghul goes looking for trouble.

He kills one man who was attempting to snatch a woman on the street on his first night as he was trained to do in the League.

He quickly learns that it is a mistake when the woman screams at the sight of blood. She keeps saying that Robin isn't meant to kill and tries to push him away from helping her. The fear in her eyes makes something in him curdle in shame.

Damian decides he has to research his father, mother called him a king, but Damian knows nothing about how he rules his kingdom.

What he finds out from a stolen laptop and the library is much different from what he expected.

He understands not wanting to kill, Damian made that choice with Goliath. If every part of his body wasn't turned into a weapon, non-lethal combat would be preferable until necessary.

But he does not understand keeping people like the Joker alive. A man that kills innocents and the city. How can Batman allow him the chance to do it over and over again?

He wants to meet his father, but something tells Damian he will not be his ideal heir, not yet.

So Damian concentrates on trying to be non-lethal even if his every instinct is to go in for the kill. He makes sure the men he finds trying to hurt other don't get back up, but they are still breathing.

He does this for a few days, and still Batman has yet to make an appearance.

He researches the strange new city, its rogues, and civilians.

Damian sleeps rough in quiet corners when he can find them. He will only be here until his father recognises him. So, not long.

That was the plan anyway, but Harley finds him on the street and wins the little ex assassin over with Hyenas.

She sees a child in white playing hero exactly as Oracle described. The Bats are out of town for a bit, so The Sirens and Red Hood are keeping the city in line.

She must scare him because the little boy turns and tries to stab her. He is talented, and Harley has to work hard to dodge. But the boy is exhausted and it makes him sloppy.

He seems to recognise her after a minute because he stops attacking, merely holding the blade in front of him.

"Are you Harleen Quinzel?"

"Aw, my reputation proceeds me, does it, kiddo?"

"Unfortunately." The little guy deadpans.

Harley snorts, the little hero wannabe is funny. She can appreciate that.

"What can I help you with Dr Quinzel?"

"Oracle told me there's some kid playing in the Bats footsteps, so I'm here to ensure you don't get hurt."

"I'm not a kid! And I don't need you to look out for me."

Harley stares at the dirty bandages on his knuckles and the split lip. Something in the way he holds himself has alarm bells ringing in her head. "Everyone needs a little TLC sometimes."

The boy stares at her. "What does that mean?"

"Tender Loving Care." The therapist in Harley is screaming at her as he is suddenly on guard again.

"I have been trained since birth to survive anything. Gotham, while unpleasant, is nothing compared to what I have done and lived through."

Harley reassesses. This is another Orphan situation, mostly likely, and this kid is fresh from a possibly abusive situation.

Harley chooses her next words carefully. "Would you say no to a sandwich? You are sleeping outside, according to Oracle, and I don't know when you ate last."

Damian, despite himself, is tempted. It's been a while since he has had a half decent meal. According to what he has gathered, Quinn has an alliance with the bat. She can be trusted somewhat. He is also just so tired.

"You can even grab a nap on the couch and meet my Hyenas!" Harley adds brightly.

The kid lights up despite himself. "Hyenas?!"

The boy is convinced after that and reluctantly introduces himself as Damian.

Harley brings Damian to her apartment, where they are greeted by Lou and Bud who seem to adore him.

The boy inhales three sandwiches and promptly passes out cuddled in a hyena pile.

He looks even smaller and younger asleep. Harley can see a multitude of scars on the little skin the jumpsuit leaves visible.

He contacts Oracle, but no one matching Damians' description comes up in her search.

So she tucks Damian in and waits for her girlfriend to get home.

When Damian wakes up it's to the smell of pancakes and Poison Ivy reading across from him.

He blinks "Dr Isley, I am a big fan of your work, and if you are amenable, I would like to discuss applications for biological filtration systems for contaminated water."

The green woman pauses and considers him. "Treat my plants well and I have no issues."

"I was raised by people many call eco terrorists. I would be a fool to harm the plant life you develop. Given its role in the Gotham ecosystem and their rarity."

Ivy looks pleased at the answer. "Who are your parents?"

"Talia Al Ghul and Batman."

Harley, who was walking in with the food, screams, "WHAT?!"

Damian explains how he ended up fighting crime in Gotham over pancakes with maple syrup. He talks about trying to retrain himself to be non lethal so when he meets his father, he will accept him. Harley probes gently into that thinking and praises Damian for his efforts. The boy preens at the praise.

Afterwards, Harley explains that the Bat is out of town right now, but Damian is welcome to hang out with them in the meanwhile.

Confronted by the Hyenas and talking plants, Damian agrees. Harley gets him to open up about his so-called training and childhood. Harley offers coping mechanisms in the form of art and property damage.

After a few patrols, Harley insists Damian have a codename, so she dubs him WildCard after he doesn't like Jester.

She also insists he needs a costume upgrade.

Damian bases his costume on the white jumpsuit he wore when he arrived in Gotham. He keeps elements of it with a black hooded jacket over top with diamond and spade patches sewn on.

Harley calls it boring so she improves his jacket by splattering it in graffiti and neon paint. Damian wears knee-high lace-up boots and starts to draw on them. Little skulls and climbing vines in bright colours.

The two and the sirens patrol Gotham and cause chaos until Batman returns weeks later.

He is not pleased at a stranger in his mits and instead of asking questions or letting Damian introduce himself he treats the boy that moves like League Assassin like a threat.

Royally pissing off Ivy and Harley.

Damian watches his father intimidate him as he tries to get the words 'I am your son' out and feels his heart break.

Instead of doing what he was tasked to when he came to Gotham, training with his father, Damian leaves with Harley Quinn.

Harley has spent weeks at this point trying to give Damian a sense of identity, letting him know he can make his own choices. So, when he asks her if he can stay with her, she doesn't hesitate to agree.

WildCard is still active but he avoids Batman like the plague.

He teams up with Spoiler and Black Bat on the nights Harley is busy.

Even meeting the Superboys when Cassandra and Harley conspire to get him to make friends his own age.

Jon Kent is immediately taken with the quiet boy that wears his paint splattered boots and jacket like a shield.

Stephanie and Cass giggle at how cute they are while Kon enjoys Jon finally rebelling.

He even meets Lucy, Harleys daughter, after a while and adores the little girl.

Ivy takes Damian to plant bomb WE with Superboy when Jon finds out what an ass Batman is and wants some revenge for his best friend.

The Batman still tries to interrogate Damian instead of speaking to him. Going so far as to insinuate, he intends to harm people on Ras' orders. Damian decides the bat doesn't deserve that Batman doesn't deserve to know he is his son. Not if he refuses to see Damians progress.

Bruce only finds out that Wildcard is his kid thats causing chaos with Harley when Talia calls to ask him where the hell their child is.

Bruce then tries to reason with Harley and Ivy somehow have legal custody and let Damian keep a tiger he rescued so the boy refuses to entertain moving in with his father.

Bruce does apologise eventually. He and Damian spend time together when Bruce gets him puppy in a desperate attempt to bond with his son.

Clark and Bruce are in for a hell of a suprise when Jonathan Kent reads Batman the riot act concerning Wildcards' feelings and his intentions as a father.

Barbara thinks it's hilarious. She handled the paperwork for Harley and Ivy.

Talia signed over Damian guardianship after meeting the two sirens. She and Ivy bond over protecting ecosystems, and Harley and Talia talk medicine.

Harley calls them the Mom Squad.

They are all very proud when Damian decides to go to Med School to follow in their footsteps.

Wildcard pops up every once in a while, doing street art and having fun with his moms when he craves the adrenaline. Harley calls it an outlet, but he is pretty sure she just likes causing chaos as a family.

He and Jon get together over rebellion and comfort. They never have to pretend to be anything else when they're together.

And after so long with Harley Damian is a flirty tease. Jon can only take so much until he is kissing the little minx.

Damian has a lot of fun making his boyfriend blush.

Jon earns Harley and Ivys eternal respect for defending Damian from the Bat constantly and takes both boys to pride with them every year.

[zozo-01]

His greatsword swung through another training dummy, slashing in into two pieces. It's a shame that none of these dummies could withstand his might and fury. Oh well, he would just have to keep going until he finds something more challenging. Perhaps one of the other heirs would be available for some friendly sparring?

Before he could ready himself for another swing, a voice perked up behind him.

"You know, Okhema may be blessed with Kephale's eternal light, but I think even They would tell you that night has come." He didn't need to turn around to know that it was you, your blunt yet teasing tone following him wherever he goes.

You were one of the Chrysos Heirs that greeted him alongside Lady Aglaea the day he was welcomed into Okhema not that long ago. A mysterious thing you were, always floating in and out of existence, never staying in one place for too long. Even the other Heirs he spoke to know not who you are nor your role in the Flame-Chase journey.

Nonetheless, Lady Aglaea trusted you and he trusted her.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure, my lady?" He didn't bother to face you, mind to focused on his training.

Phainon was going to continue his massacre of the training dummies, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Perhaps you should take a break," an uncharacteristic worried tone took over your voice, giving him the impression that you cared, for what reasons, he didn't know. It had been a while since he started his training, so maybe a brief pause wasn't entirely out of the question.

Phainon turned around to face you, taking in the sight of you. You were beautiful, no one in Amphoreous could deny that. A being blessed by Mnestia themself. You always had a way to leave him a little flustered, finding himself stumbling over his words whenever you simply look at him.

(He was taught that the most beautiful of statues are constructed to hide the most tragic tales. So what secrets do you hide behind those pretty eyes?)

You take a glance behind him with a raised eyebrow, taking note of all the destroyed dummies behind him.

"Someone of your stature could do better then lifeless mannequins, no?" you say with a smirk on your lips. "Is Mydei not available to train with you?"

"He went to his chambers a while back," Phainon responded. Mydeimos had provided him a wonderful training partner, but he wasn't going to let the Prince dictate his schedule.

"Don't you think if the Prince of Castrum Kremnos is taking a break, it should be a good indicator that you should rest as well, Deliverer?" you ask as you cock your head to the side.

How could he rest knowing the Black Tide continues to take over more and more of Amphoreous every day? That one day he will come to face the phantom that took his home? He wasn't strong enough back then and he refuses to make that mistake again.

"I have to get stronger to face off against the Black Tide, my lady." He turned back to the training dummies.

"Oh no, what hell will befall us if the great Deliverer fails to destroy all the training equipment in Okhema," you laugh and he could tell you rolled your eyes behind him. Phainon knew you were joking, that you were simply teasing him, but that didn't stop the rage flooding into his heart, like a tide taking over a beach.

Without even thinking, he dropped his greatsword and marched over to you with anger etched onto his face. He stopped just a breath away from your face.

"If you have nothing of worth to say, then I suggest you leave." Phainon was shocked by the steel and venom he was letting out. He usually was better at controlling his feelings, but tonight, he was ready to burst at the seams.

You didn't yell back, you didn't raise your weapon. You barely even flinched. Instead your own gaze turned to ice and you asked him a simple question.

"Do you think you're the only one who has lost everything to the Black Tide?"

He was taken aback by your question, taking a literal step back before responding.

"No, I-"

"Then hear this Deliverer," you didn't give him the chance to respond. "You don't need to shoulder this burden alone. All of us have lost something and all of us are willing to fight to take back what is rightfully ours. There are multiple heirs because even Kephale knew an individual could no do this alone." You take a breath with a sigh, your face softening. "You're no good to us Phainon if you're dead tired from all this training. So hear me when I say that you should take a break for today, okay?" He was damn near hypnotized by the gentle eyes you gave him.

He gulped, not knowing how to respond other then to simply nod his head and accept that he will not be training today.

"Wonderful," you exclaim. Phainon doesn't even realize that you have hooked your arm around his, dragging his tired body towards the City Square. In that moment, his stomach grumbled and he wondered when was that last time he even ate something.

"I'll promise you a sparring session tomorrow, to make up for tonight," you offered to him. "I know I'm no Mydei, but I think I could keep up with you." Phainon knew damn well that if there was anyone who could beat both him and Mydeimon is a battle, it would be you.

"It would be my pleasure, my lady." His mind is already dreaming of what tomorrow would bring.

In that moment, he realized that he had gain something that he thought wasn't possible after the massacre of Aedes Elysiae. He thought he buried his need for human connection, his desire to let someone into his heart. He was even considering telling you his real name

But in you he found something he hadn't had in a long time.

A friend. Maybe even something more. He was going to make sure he wouldn't lose you too.

(It was too late, for your fate was sealed in the stars that hung behind Calamity's Gate. Poor Deliverer, destined to rule the world alone.)

(Not if he had anything to say about that.)

My poor, sweet Phainon, the horrors that await you are numerous ;-;

Shoutout to @baeshijima for not only feeding the Phainon obsession, but also been inspring me to write *gasp* fanfics for other fandoms?? The audacity of me T-T. The big one is coming... soon... I think.