#why don't my own tags work properly how dare you

[tinotika-arts]

[GW2] Alex if he were a raid/strike boss I guess

Got really bored and I wanted to try imagining Alex if he were a raid boss with mechanics! The second page is mostly mechanics heavy, I might have gone a little bit wild with it lol

But hey, leyline magic Alex, if he finally broke down and allowed magic itself to take over him for a while. After all, they're friends, and Alex is magic's most beloved mortal.

Some extra design notes for myself under cut:

Slight edit: guess which idiot forgot their watermark

Eyes, hair tips and gauntlet changes colours based on his phase element. Default colour is teal-ish, similar to magic

The teal parts on his clothing change as well

Why does he have so much condis omg

I originally wanted to have him do a leap and strike down attack but couldn't figure out what to do with it so I scrapped it

[thewritetofreespeech]

pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: your husband leaves for a hunting trip, but before he leaves he provides you with a gift to keep your fealty secure.

tags: heterosexual sex (m/f), chastity belt [fictional c. belt usage, don't come for me], oral (female receiving), cowgirl, aemond is a meanie to his wife, but also a sweetie, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

The bells seemed to have not stopped ringing for days now.

First, to herald the new prince, Maelor, into the world. Then to call his father home.

Aegon had overheard of the Baratheon tradition of going hunting before the birth of a child. Claiming a new stag and presenting the pelt to the mother, which he thought was a splendid tradition. The hunting, not the presents for the mother; although any excuse to get out of the castle was Aegon’s ultimate goal. He assembled some of the finest hunters he could find, or at least on such short notice, and sped off into some forest while his wife labored through the end of her pregnancy and had her toil finally ended in the wee hours of the morning.

You were happy for Helaena. To have her child here & health and her agony ended. But also, selfishly, that your own agony might be ended too.

Your husband had gone with hers. Aegon insisted that family should be involved in this new process he was creating, and made his brother come with him for the hunt. Aemond did not fight him too hard. He too would look for any excuse to leave the castle, particularly when his half-sister & her family were around, and enjoyed hunting like any man of arms might when the opportunity struck.

However, before the princes left your husband presented you with a gift that had turned your ill-planned parting into a tortuous affair.

“I still don’t see why any of this is necessary.”

Aemond paid you little mind as he fastened the last strap and locked it. Admiring his work as he sat back on his heels. “I feel that my fidelity is being called into question.”

“It is not your fidelity, dearest one.” He told you. Standing to his full height above you as he slipped the key into his pocket. “A beautiful woman, alone, for some days’ time without her husband. I am protecting you from those less virtuous than you.”

You frown and drop your skirts. “Oh please.” As if anyone would dare touch you, or even glance in your direction too long, with Aemond the Fierce as your husband. Even before your marriage he had managed to scare off any suitor or admirer that came near. Deciding that you would be his and he would not have competition on the matter. His jealousy had not gotten any better since you were married, but luckily you found it endearing; in an odd, Targaryen ‘take no prisoner’ kind of a way. “I will be with your sister most of the time anyway whilst you are gone. Unless you think her a threat now?”

Aemond smirked. “I don’t know. Helaena does have a weakness for the oddest, cutest things.” He leaned in to give you a kiss, which you return despite your sulking pout.

“How am I to relieve myself with this thing?”

“There is a small hole.”

“Charming.”

“The point is that you, nor anyone else, can relieve you.” His hand came up to cup your cheek. “Not until I get back.”

You frown at Aemond again. Once again feeling your fidelity was being called into question, but now also your virtue. “Please. You think I am some nymph unable to curb my baser instincts while my husband is away? That the moment you leave I’ll just start humping the couches like a dog.” The prince scoffed. Amused by your joke. “I will be fine Aemond. I am sure I can last a week without ‘relief’ as you put it.”

“See that you do.” He gave you another kiss. Longer this time and you kiss him back properly, without the pout, as you realize this was your goodbye kiss. “Tell Helaena to push out that babe sooner rather than later. I’d hate to have to miss you by the time it’s all said and done.”

That had been a tenday ago, and you had been eating your words since the sixth.

At first, it was fine. You were indeed busy tending to Helaena. Keeping her comfortable. Keeping her entertained. You had not yet known the joy of being with child, but from where you were sitting across from her it seemed not to bring the joy often described. Your situation did not get problematic until night fall.

Alone in your bed, you had trouble falling asleep that first night without Aemond beside you. His gentle breathing not at your back. Had your bed always been this big? The second night sleep came a little easier, though you still missed your husband. By the third night, you really missed him. You suddenly realized that since your marriage not more than three days had gone by without Aemond sliding to your side of the bed to lay with you. He was not the braggart like his brother or other more crude lords at court, but he was quite the vivacious lover; when properly motivated by affection and praise.

Now alone, you were suddenly aware of your body and how much it had changed since being with Aemond. How, in a way, he had conditioned you for him. Before it would have been no problem for you to go without such pleasures, but now you seem unable to make it not 3 days without touch. Coupled with the fact that you couldn’t do anything about it with the damned belt on you were all the more frustrated in your situation and desired nothing more than for Aemond to come home.

You watched as the gates opened and Aegon’s party rode in. The horses galloping to a halt before the procession stage. No dragons this time. Aegon said it would take the sport out of.

The newly anointed father leapt from his horse and bounded up the steps of the small stage to Helaena. His eyes & smile bright as he looked on his newest son, Aegon took Maelor from her arms gently to hold him for the first time. It was all rather endearing.

Your attention turned from the happy scene to the steps again as they creak under foot. Aemond’s tall, lean frame now in full view. You find it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. As if your chastity belt was suddenly wrapped all the way around you like a corset. You grip the arms of your chair tight to stay strong and stay still. Aware that you were still in public and in front of your family after all.

“Look brother! Look at my new son!” The second prince walked over to his brother to look upon their newest addition. Giving his new nephew the smallest hint of a smile as he looked down at him. Your core quaked violently.

“Congratulations brother. Well done, Helaena.” The princess smiled shyly at her brother, and their mother seemed pleased for once at this happy moment.

Aemond snapped and made some sort of gesture at a servant, who scurried up the steps and handed him some ivory pelts from a chest that Aemond then gave to Helaena. Foxes, perhaps. Or maybe rabbits. You couldn’t be sure which as your sister-in-law gushed over their softness and color while you smiled & nodded along. Your mind completely focused on Aemond. He was so close now. You could practically smell him. The iron. The leather. The sweat & sun from riding back this afternoon. You have to swallow to keep the drool pooling in your mouth from leaking out. You had to get out of here. You had to get out of this…thing!

“If you’ll excuse me, I must wash the road off and rest in a proper bed if I am expected to entertain later.” Aemond’s voice cut through your thoughts. As if he heard you.

“You do not wish to stay and see the babe?” Aegon asked. Holding his new son up with a look of ‘what could be better than this?’. You could think of a few things, but as a lady you held your tongue.

“He’s not going anywhere, is he?” Aemond jest. To which his mother rolled her eyes and he kissed Helaena on the cheek. “I will see him at the feast, I’m sure.” He turned and finally looked at you. You felt your heart stop and your skirts grow moist before he offered his hand to you. “Come wife.”

You take his hand, digits trembling almost as much as that first time you took it, and stand. You kiss Helaena’s cheek on the other side, wishing her congratulations again, before Aemond lead you off the stage and into the palace. Luckily, by fate or design, the procession meeting ground was near your apartments. So it was a quick walk before you were at your door. They open for you, and Aemond only let out a stern “get out” to the servants, who only have mere seconds to flurry away before you were on each other. Your lips crashing against Aemond’s along with the rest of your body as you back him into a corner against the door like you felt you had been backed into all week.

“Get this fucking thing off me.”

“My, my, such language.” Aemond was grinning maliciously, but pridefully, down at you. “I leave for just a week and my sweet wife’s lips turn into that of a Braavosi sailor.” You gasp, nearly pant, as Aemond brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. Seeming fascinated by them. As if they were some intricate puzzle for him. “Did you miss me, issa jorrāelagon?”

You whimper as the High Valyrian rolls off Aemond’s tongue. Your thighs shivering as at the thought of it and those delicious purrs between them again. “Yes. I did.”

He seemed pleased. “I missed you too.” He kissed you again. Slower, sweeter, deeper this time, rather than tongue & teeth. It was a good thing Aemond’s arms were securely wrapped around you as his kiss made you swoon. “I would think of you every night.” His lips brush against your lips, your cheek, your chin. His hands caressing you softly everywhere as you stared dimly up at Aemond. Drunk from him. “While Aegon and his pack rutted with their camp followers, I would go to my tent and think of you. Stroke my cock along with your key around my neck, think of you waiting for me, until I could no longer take it anymore.”

You whimper & whine at Aemond’s words. A part of you elated to have that effect on your husband, but part of you also extremely jealous. You had been forced to wait while he had not. That seemed entirely unfair and should be corrected immediately.

“Aemond…please. I’m tired of waiting. Please take this off me so I can be your wife again.”

Your prince smiled at you. Pressing you back now as you kiss this time towards the bed. You had intentionally worn the simplest dress you had to the arrival. Beautiful in design and beadwork, but nowhere near the detailing of lacings and ties most of court lady fashion had. All with the intention of Aemond being able to get it off you quickly, which he succeeded at, and lay you on the bed. “Hells. You look radiant.”

“Aemond please…” You beg again. Bosom heaving. Your skin on fire at even the briefest touch of his fingertips against your calf. Tingling in your nakedness in front of him, save for this accursed belt.

He took pity on you it seemed and opened his vest with a few quick snaps. Producing the key from around his neck. He still kept it there, it seemed. Aemond gave you a long look, as if holding on to this final, torturing moment with some perverse pleasure at your suffering, before he undid the lock and helped you out of your ties.

You moan, loudly, with your head tilted back as it finally came off. Release from the belt was almost as pleasurable as the full release you were surely about to receive. Your skin able to breathe fully. Your limbs one with themselves again. It was enough to make your head spin, only to be brought back to you when you felt Aemond spread your thighs and kneel before you.

“A-Aemond! Wait! I haven’t washed properly in---mph!” He doesn’t seem to care.

Though you had bathed regularly since your parting, the belt made it difficult to clean yourself fully. Trust in this, you had tried. Every angle. Every side. Every idea imaginable to get around this accursed thing, but to no avail. Aemond seemed unbothered by this as he devoured your cunt like a starved man. That skilled Valyrian silver teasing your clit. Making you squirm on the bed, to the point that Aemond had to hold your thighs apart to the point of bruises. Gods, you hoped for bruises. The shift from no attention to this sudden onslaught was enough to drive you to madness. Overstimulated, you cum quickly with a sharp cry. “Oh Gods…..!”

Aemond doesn’t leave you until your walls stop quaking around him, then he lifted slowly from between your legs. “Still sweet as ever, issa jorrāelagon.”

The prince stripped out of his clothes with a speed you did not think possible of their usually intricate clothing. You bit your lip. Core throbbing even though you had just climaxed at the sight of your husband. Lean form. Alabaster skin. Pure white save for the hard, blushing cock pointed out at you. “Aemond…”

He chuckled. Probably finding your lust blown eyes and subconscious spreading of your legs for him amusing. “So needy.” He was enjoying this. Enjoying tormenting you with his fine figure and devilish smirk. People often whispered about how cruel Aemond was. You never believed them. But perhaps you would have to amend your thinking on the topic as it was cruel to have him on offer now and still make you wait.

He crawled on to the bed and on top of you. Your lungs filling with air and releasing in a sigh as you feel his weight on top of you. How you had missed even this part. To be close to your prince. To have his presence mix with yours. Not just the sex, but the intimacy was something Aemond had trained your body to as well. You hope to never be parted from it again.

“I’m rather tired from the journey.” He whispered to you. Panick welling up in you as he stroked your hair & cheek sweetly. He wasn’t going to stop, was he? You would punch him in that beautiful face if he stopped now! No a judicator in the land would convict you. “So, you will have to do all the work this time, sweet one.”

He gripped your hips then and flipped you over. You yip at the sudden change in equilibrium, but then moan as you felt his hardness brush against your sex. The length of it perfectly aligned to slide between your folds. By fate or design you could not be sure, but what you were sure of was that you needed it inside you.

“Take from me what you want, issa jorrāelagon. Let me see your rapture now that I am home. You deserve it.”

You whine at Aemond’s words and kiss him desperately. As a thank you? Just the burning need to touch him?

You lift up and line his cock up properly with your entrance. The wetness from your sex and anticipation allowing him to slide in easily, and you moan like a whore at the feeling of him inside you again. “You have to move, issa jorrāelagon.” Aemond reminded you. His tone sweet and teasing. This spell he had on you working over your mind as you are unable to think, just obey, and start to move your hips.

Aemond watched you from below. His eye and sapphire fixed solely on you as you writhed in pleasure on top of him. Every bit the nymph you claimed not to be just a short while ago as your body and mind were lost to you in the sole pursuit of pleasure.

“Aemond..! Aemond…! So good!”

“I know, my love.” He must be close. The grit of his teeth, and the fact that he used your nickname in common instead of High Valyrian, his tell. “I’m close. Just a bit more.” You weren’t sure if you could last that long as you were suddenly bursting all around. Body shaking. Gasping for air. Luckily, it seemed just enough for Aemond and his hips arched up to push deeper inside you as he spilled his seed.

You collapse on top of your husband. Sweaty, wanton, spent. Aemond, for his part, seemed to catch his breath rather quickly and flipped you back over. “What are you doing?”

“Truly you did not think that would be the only time I had you.” You cry out when Aemond thrust his still hard cock into your sensitive sex. “We have near a week to make up for.”

It was much later in the afternoon by the time Aemond felt he had properly ‘balanced the scales’. Your body was exhausted, but content. Laying with your husband in the afterglow, and your ruined bed, a tonic for your soul you didn’t know you needed. “I have a gift for you.”

“Another one?” You tease your prince, who smiled and untangled himself from you to go over to a chest you hadn’t realized was in the room. You recognize it though as the chest the servant had brought to Aemond at his command when he presented the pelts to his sister.

“I caught this one when I was out on my own. Aegon & his troupe were off to the east with their wine and crossbows. I went west, as no quarry would come with their revelry. Seemed only fitting that since I found it on my own, my wife should have it.”

It was a pelt of pure onyx. Soft, but not nearly as soft as what Helaena had gotten earlier. This was the pelt of a beast, not prey. “Aemond, it’s beautiful.” Your fingers sift through the fine hairs. Feeling the power of its former master almost transfer into your fingers. “Thank you.”

“I am glad you like it. Perhaps I shall have to find you a new one, in nine months.” You glance over at Aemond out of the corner of your eye. Quick to understand his meaning. Quick to realize that Aemond wants his own son now that he’s seen Aegon with his second.

“Perhaps.” Time would only tell. You move your beautiful new fur to the side and crawl into Aemond’s waiting lap. “But if you leave me here for a week while I suffer alone, I will kill you. Do you hear me?”

Aemond laughed in the face of his own danger. “No. I would never leave you. This tryst was amusing, but I will be damned before I follow a Baratheon’s tradition before our own.” He lifted your hand and kissed it softly. “Our kin will have dragon eggs in their beds, not pelts.”

“Good.” You agreed and kissed him fully.

You make love again. Slowly, intimately this time. The kind of joining you both hope brings children. You would have to bathe and get dressed for the welcoming feast later that evening. Aegon’s welcome home and Maelor’s official presentation, along with all the spoils the men had caught on their hunt. But for now, it would just be you and Aemond. Enjoying each other and being back in one another’s arms.

Your last present though mysteriously vanishes. You have no idea where the belt went to, or what was done with it. Aemond had no answers. But you have a sinking suspicion it was moved somewhere for safe keeping; lest you find it and burn it, as was your threat long after.

[silenzahra]

First of all, thanks a lot to @megamagimugi @itsavee4117 @bberetd @keakruiser @pepperycar

@coffeecat1983 @peaches2217 @stripetkattelalala54 @multicolour-ink @vulpixfairy1985

@purely-interests-here-not-much for your comments on my latest post. I truly appreciate your support as I really needed it. Hope it's okay that I vent under the cut so you're all free to continue reading or skip this post, but I hope you all understand I'm not in the mood whatsoever to be around right now. I know you've tagged me in some stuff and I appreciate it, but I just can't enjoy it right now. It has all to do with my emotional state and nothing with the content itself. Hope that is clear.

Also, thank you to those of you who reblogged my musicians post after I fixed it. I really appreciate it. I'll make sure to give you all proper answers... I just don't know when yet.

Before I go on, let me advice you: if you're in a good mood today, maybe you shouldn't read this if you don't want it to be ruined. It's totally up to you. Just know that I'd never judge anyone for putting their mental health first.

Yesterday was the most awful day of my life. I came to the realization that the people I thought cared for me the most, the people who were supossed to always be there through thick and thin... don't actually care about me. They always put others first, no matter what my necessities and emotions are: they're always there for other people but they're never there for me. Even when it's obvious that I need them, they just don't see it and continue to help everybody else but me.

And I feel lonely. I've never had trouble with being alone as my hobbies usually require that I'm on my own to properly enjoy them, but that's one thing... and loneliness is something very different. I'm never alone, but I'm lonely. And their attitude also makes me feel so unimportant... Makes me wonder why on earth I'm here. Why my family had me if they weren't gonna care about me. Especially my emotions... No one in my family has ever made me feel like they're a safe space for me to open up. Never. So they don't even know what I'm feeling because, whenever I try to tell them something, they change the subject or simply don't pay attention. My voice doesn't matter. I literally have no one to turn to IRL. Heck, they don't even make me feel loved anymore. They make me feel like a burden they have to deal with, and I can't even move to live on my own for financial reasons.

In all honesty, I never thought I'd find myself in such a situation. I don't even know how to act anymore. I have to continue living with my family, seeing them every day, and I just don't know how to look them in the face. The feelings swirling in my chest... they hurt, and I feel that I need to let them out, but I literally have no one IRL. My friends, they all live in different cities, and have their own lives and problems, so they can't always be there for me, and I'm okay with that because I'm also busy. I'd like to get back to therapy, but it's expensive as hell where I live, and I have just started working for the first time after a few months, so I don't have the means for that.

In all honesty, this morning I took the day off from work and went for a walk with my dog. This may sound weird, especially to people who don't have any animals, but I'm not exaggerating when I say my dog Baloo was the only one (in my immediate surroundings I mean) who noticed yesterday that I wasn't feeling good. He has a great emotional intelligence and was there for me when I needed him, and I'm glad I could walk with him this morning because it really did wonders to us both.

Still, shortly after I got home... everything went bad again. I'd dare to say even worse than yesterday. And I'm so tired and drained.

I don't even know why I'm in this world anymore. It's just suffering and suffering, one bad thing after another, and I sincerely can take it no longer. I've had enough. I don't even find joy in the SMB franchise anymore... Yes, it's that bad. I've hit rock bottom and all that's left for me is drowning.

Thank you if you've read everything and sorry if I bored you or made you feel bad. I just hope you understand that I don't feel like being around whatsoever. I love you and your content, but I can't enjoy it right now, so I'd rather not see it until I'm fine... if I ever get to be fine again. This is the worst bad streak I've experienced in a very long time and I sincerely cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel. Heck, I can't even feel excited about seeing my favorite band live again next week... Can't even look forward to that right now.

Of course, you're all free to continue to tag me in stuff if you'd like, but I hope you know I'm not gonna see it now. As I said, I can't enjoy anything in general. I've lost the spark of joy and I don't know how to get it back.

Sorry to sound so depressed, but it's just how I'm feeling right now.

Of course, all of this applies to the people around me in real life. I'm grateful I met each and every one of you, and I'm lucky and blessed that you offered me your support and you're there to listen. I love you all very much.

[jmrothwell]

Ok truth and dare game

🛼🍄🦷🪲🐝

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

(Going to cheat a bit and split this between fandoms)

🐺🏃‍♂️🎶😡🫂

🐢😴🧸🎧❓

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

(So many ships and yet all the headcanons vanish from head XD)

I think a big part of what draws Carrie and Reggie together is they can see the mask the other wears. Not the cracks exactly, like none of that I can see through to the real you. Because the mask is as much a vital organ as the rest of them. So it's not I can see your mask and want to know the real you. More like I see you also have a mask and understand why you can't just be rid of it.

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

Avoid the never.

Either you will get too set in a place that will slowly kill you mentally/physically because you are unwilling to change/grow. Or life will find a way to prove you wrong.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

He’d never been allowed anything more than a simple belt before. Parents citing the impracticality of all the studs or outright balking at any price tag they deemed too high. A benchmark Reggie never seemed to be able to properly gauge.

 With a grunt Bobby shoved his handful of suspenders into his basket before reaching over and tossing the studded belt into Reggie’s

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

First and foremost I've gotta tag the Canoe Crew (@daintyduck99, @bananakarenina, @invisibleraven, @innytoes, @where-you-go, @musicmuse0609 )

In all honesty without them I would never have written as much as I have. I would have never attempted to write any prompts. The amount of JatP I would have written would have stopped with 2 half formed blurbs and a mediocre monologue.

They are an inspirational, caring bunch who lift each other up and obviously care deeply for each other. Their talent always impresses me and most of my bookmarks and downloads are their works. (Hell, when I went through that brief oooooh you can bind your own books phase, if materials weren't so expensive, theirs would have been the works I would have bound. Half the reason I downloaded them all in the first place)

Doubling back I don't think I can emphasize how much they care. So many days are brightened seeing how much they love life, their fandoms, their friends and family.

I'm just the lucky spider in the corner they let hang out and spin occasional webs and tangentially get to be exposed to the awesomeness that is them.

Hell they got me just plain tapping into all my artistic pursuits in a way I've never had before. Like I'm allowed to to not only create for myself but be proud and enjoy those same self-indulgent creations. I've said it before, that I create for me, but I don't think I truly believed it until them.

.

It feels weird tagging you in your own ask but @1mnobodywhoareyou you were an unexpected godsend bit of encouragement. Always ready to send that ask or tag to get me to write even an extra sentence. Even if it's for a fic or WIP you haven't read or potentially might not. Like with that beetle ask up there!!

[olderthannetfic]

Been thinking about daring to try to get into vidding (but I have zero knowledge about video editing lol) and wondered if there are ship manifestos that are in fanvid-form, so to say. Am shocked that there are only six on AO3. Though I guess it may have to do with videos being taken down because of copyright stuff?

(One of them was by you by the way if I'm not mistaken, ha! And now I want to watch Veritas: The Quest. Your video got me interested.^^)

--

Haha. I was going to say!

Veritas is a fun dumb time. It makes me sad that they never released properly. (And yes, my love of baaaaaad "archaeology" canons full of magical woo and tomb raiding goes way back. Also my love of fake death and fake betrayal plots.)

AO3 is only moderately popular for fanvids, and mostly in a very specific community of people who send vids to the small-scale fancons—the sorts of people who founded OTW and who were vidding on Livejournal. (It won't be because of takedowns. The AO3 work would still be there, just with a dead embed.) That lack of popularity overall is part of why you don't see so many video manifestos, but I think it's more a terminology thing:

I think it's rare for vidders to call their vids "manifestos". I don't think of that one video as a vid that is a manifesto: I think of it as a vid I made to include in a manifesto. Instead, we tend to call them "pimp vids", but you don't tag with that because it's presumptuous. It's something you say retroactively about other people's vids or that you tell a vid beta you're aiming for. You don't get to decide if your vid successfully pimps people in any more than you get a say in whether you go viral, you know?

--

There's a weekly vidders' zoom run by DC Slash (one of the tiny slash cons), and we just had a week where we brought in vids that got us into fandoms. A lot of other people's were ancient, blurry VCR transfers because they've been at this a lot longer than I have, but I can show you some of the vids that have gotten me into fandoms:

Killa's Haven vid Soldier annoyed me so much. What is that one brief flash of a scene? Did that dude die? It's not that sad a vid though? What the hell? So I had to watch just to find out. (Yes, he died. But he got better. Because Haven.)

The fact that I know and like Killa didn't hurt, but it's not like I loved the vid itself: a lot of it was my sheer annoyance at that one shot.

Of course, then, I made my own Haven vid, Captain Kidd, that was supposed to be an angry deep dive into show lore and how the other sanctimonious, fake-moral but actually pretty useless characters were treating my blorbo. (This is a theme with me, it appears.) It was not even 1% supposed to be a pimp vid...

To date, this is by far my most successful pimp vid, luring a whole bunch of people into the show just in time for it to massively jump the shark. (Damn it.) I've never even seen the ending.

More recently, akiv's Beyond Evil vid I'm a Ruler made me fall hard for Beyond Evil. Imagine my shock when what looked like a relatively normal buddy cop series starts with one of them secretly investigating the other as a serial killer. It was so much more intense and fucked up than I realized! Yessss.

After bouncing hard off of DMBJ, it was this Youtube vid Hei Ye falling for the Thorny Flower that got me intrigued again. The tone is so obvious and the dynamic is so clear, which really helped me get interested in a franchise that's often pretty hard to follow plot-wise.

I admit I never actually watched canon, but this Mr. Queen vid by Mozzaphne made me go look up a plot summary so I could read all of the fic. Lots of youtube vidders overuse show dialogue and mix it horribly over songs, but this one was really well done and adds a lot to your understanding of the character dynamics.

I don't think my foray into Detroit: Become Human was entirely because of a single vid, but Figure 8 by Dirty Mind Gene definitely helped. I knew it was a video game with robots. Nobody fucking told me it was a Caves of Steel ripoff with a jaded cop getting his mojo back via getting to know his robot partner.

I of course then went and made one with all of the zillions of deaths in the game because I love that shit. This apparently also got at least one person into the fandom.

Another vid a different person mentioned pimping them into a fandom was Lola's Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty vid ME!

It's a fabulous vid, and it's a fantastic illustration of how the central (canon) ship is supposed to read. Sadly, my personal opinion of the show is that Tang Fan is a perpetual victim and piece of shit who puts his own shallow grasp of morality and his personal feelings over the greater good, often getting characters killed unnecessarily. (I hear this is largely due to some questionable adaptation choices where they swapped who's the hothead and who's the one cleaning up messes.)

I've noticed that fluffy bunnies who watch the show tend to think Tang Fan is ~nice~ because he spouts modern morality instead of a selfish little bitch because he refuses to face the reality of the setting he's in and find the best real world solution instead of holding out for an ideal he'll never attain and thus making everything ten times worse. It reminds me forcibly of tumblr wank where people see themselves as these great moral leaders but lack all grasp of nuance. Their sensitivity extends only to their own feelings.

Yes, Sleuth left me with a lot of rage...

How dare the writing pretend like Tang Fan is the moral arbiter of anything, when my own personal fave, whom half the cast thinks is a villain, is constantly cleaning up after him, trying to keep the body count low, trying to maintain order as everybody else flies out of control...

And then the show made it all better by tormenting Tang Fan in the iddiest way possible. Ohohoho. It's not just that he gets his face rubbed in his own inadequacy and inability to save people. It's the ridiculously over-the-top flashback to "You're my only friend" right in the middle of the death scene. Way to twist the knife!

I, of course, have made my own vid for this fandom, Tiny, Pretty & Angry, and it is absolutely a manifesto, just not a ship one. It's a manifesto about how Wang Zhi is not only the most competent, but also the actual moral center of everything and fuck all of y'all if you don't agree.

In fact, there's probably another reason we don't call them manifestos:

In the oldschool Media Fandom vidding traditions, most vids are video essays and manifestos, really. That's a lot of the point of the aesthetic: making an argument. Partly due to technological limitations and partly due to vidding being innovated by slashers who were constantly challenged about their ships, the pretty visual spectacle styles so common in AMVs and currently on Youtube were largely absent. Meta argument was everything. That's the default.

Here's another one of mine that's pretty explicitly a fuck you to how most people in Untamed fandom see Wen Ning.

[ferrocyan]

15 lines of dialogue

Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

15 feels like too few haha! i'm picking these mostly from finished fics, with a couple of wips at the end. feels like i could go on forever otherwise

tagged by @improvised-finish (tysm!!) and tagging @pillowfriendly and @worldoshaking i wanna read more of your wols pls pls pls (*>∀<*)

(duo)

"I've never heard of such a name before! From which fair land do you hail, friend?"

"Coer--" C'astarhte said something and promptly bit her tongue. She covered her mouth, then quickly added, "Pardon. Meant to say... I come from the Exarch's homeland."

---

C'astarhte looked distressed. She glanced around at the rest of the bar, then at Reeq, and whispered intently, "But this worked before... Crystarium people don't ask about the Exarch."

(detour)

"So we've never really fought together, no? When you say we're partners, I'd like it to be earned."

---

"Doesn't need to," Tart shrugged. "What matters is we do it together. No more objections, right? Surely not." She stuck out her tongue at Lue-Reeq, then headed to the stairs.

---

"You know," Tart said, "you're not bad. I don't know much about archery, but your technique is very clean. Efficient, no wasted movement, very well timed. I was amazed how fast you could nock arrows and have shots lined up perfectly. It was nice to fight with you. Good job, Reeq."

(drown)

She just had to kill Andreia. All would be well if she killed Andreia. Remember what she had done to Alisaie, to Alphinaud? Blackguard. Scum. Bitch. Just kill her and get it over with!

(ask of me)

"No," Tart cuts him off. "Don't want to stop, just... want you to stop pretending I'm not here."

"Am I?"

"You're not touching me, not saying anything, not even looking at me! What's with that, Reeq?" she pouts.

---

"Reeq, you like it when complimented and told you're doing a good job. I feel the same. So, not asking for more, you're giving back to me." She smiles, putting her hand on his. "I like you. Always want more of you. If you're having a good time then so am I. Wouldn't know that if you don't tell me, though, so let me hear it, yeah?"

(focus)

"you're scaring me a little, right now."

she smiles. "is that bad?"

"not at all. i quite like it."

"good."

(wurm)

"Say, remember when you asked, would I still love you if you were a worm?"

Reeq snorts. "Why yes, I do! I remember perfectly well," he pinches her cheek lightly, "when you told me that you would feed me to your chocobo."

(peel)

The man is ecstatic, so very amused that he cannot hold his giggles back. His feet kick as he laughs and his tail thumps on the floor, shaking with glee. Unable to wait for Reeq to finish his sentence, he fills in with an exclamation:

"Tart!"

Tart only makes himself laugh harder.

(division)

"ishgard has ways of denying certain people's existnce. mean really, completely erase them, unlike the shite that bishop was spewing about himself. my family no longer exists. how dare he accuse me of not understanding how it feels to be rejected? and how dare you take my prey?"

---

tart holds his focus in his right hand, blade in the left. his tail flicks uneasily. "go easy on me, won't you?"

"what? oh my, i never thought i would hear that from the warrior of light!" aymeric laughs as he readies his own sword.

"i'm ill, you blackguard."

"then maybe you should rest properly."

"hasn't helped. this might, so stay still and let me cast magic at you."

(out to the cold)

"--get it, i get it. zenos wanting me makes me a liability. now that you all have the dragon scales' protection, i am not needed anymore. you--they're setting you up as my replacement. no. no, they can't. won't allow it. can't let that happen. oh--you--you're here to kill me. you can't replace me! i'll kill you first! you're dead, estinien wyrmblood!"

(aphelion)

"not that i want to die, g'raha. just... wish i'd died back there. it wouldn't've been good, but it would've been perfect. my life could've ended perfectly. haven't you felt that way too?"

[madds-is-ace-trash]

I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL IM SORRY 

HI so don't except a lot from this chapter :/ its like all set up. Also i like cant write so…..

also my laptop is like on its last legs, hence why this is getting uploaded now and not a week ago. Also happy holidays.

Any who after this chapter get exited cus the next one is just Danny being a little menace >:-) https://archiveofourown.org/works/43353157/chapters/110594544

Chapter 6: A Bat, The Birds, And A .... Plane?

summary:Some tag, some shipping, and some plot set up.

“ Danny I promise they're gonna love you star-boy,” when Danny came out of the bathroom he looked a lot calmer than even this morning. Still visually nervous but he looked a lot more comfortable. Back in a shirt that was 4 sizes too big (Damian had already given them the smallest thing he had earlier), he fiddled with his hands as he walked over and lightly head-butted dicks leg. Dick fluffed the boy's hair leaning into Danny a little allowing the boy to cling to him. He had asked if Cass was ok, which was weird, had he thought he hurt her? He did suppose she didn't fallow dick and maybe the kid thought he had.He assured him that Cass was okay and that she was actually waiting with the others who wanted to meet him properly. 

  And Danny was right back to being shy and closed off, great.  Well he supposed that was normal to some degree, at least most of the kids he encountered in both his day job and night job tended to be a little closed off. He was giving Danny reshuring words all the way back to the dining room, no one had actually finished dinner in the chaos.  Cass shot dick a satisfied grin seeing that Danny still had the blanket in tow as he leaned against dick chest, the kid only made it about halfway down the hall before dick scooped him up like a puppy. 

  His sister was the first to scurry over to her brother's place in the doorway. Some of the tension the kid was caring released upon seeing her soft smile. “ Hi buddy are you doing ok?” she asked in a soft tone. All Danny did was nod. Then after a moment he looked her up and down, then at dicks shoulder, and then proceeded to make GRABBY HANDS towards his sister. Cas gently took the boy up on his offer leaving dick to do nothing but stare in shock. Betrayal by his own son and it hadn't even been 48 hours! 

  But then again maybe it wasn't a betrayal? The whole time Danny had been keeping himself off of the shoulder that he had clung onto for dear life during the fiasco with Bruce. Had Danny not wanted to aggravate it? He did ask if Cass was ok upstairs. O man Danny had realized he may have hurt dick and was worried about hurting him further. How….how did.  “Danny just so you know my shoulder ok. Promise buddy it wasn't that bad,” dick leaned in and whispered. He didn't want the little dipper beating himself up over a sore shoulder; this was nothing. 

  Cass on the other hand looked like she was having the time of her life, her whole face lit up in the same way one would look at a kitten. Well if Danny could take to cass so easily maybe there was hope that the rest of his gaggle wouldn't turn out so bad? 

  Then dick looked at Bruce, who was staring at the boy but otherwise keeping his distance. 

  He could make this work!

  —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  It took all of Cass’s willpower to not bounce up and down with excitement. Her nephew just got his stitches fixed; she wasn't about to tear them.  He was a lot lighter than she had thought, then again it explained how dick just seemed to forget he was caring for him when she picked them up.  Also she was so totally getting those cool aunt points!

  Tim , Damian, and Duke all sat at the table not daring to say anything just yet. Even Damian, with all his ‘this is ridiculous’ and ‘I don't understand the eagerness over some child’ was fidgeting in his seat.  Cass looked all her brothers in the eye and decided Duke was probably her best bet. She nodded at Dick to follow and they made way over to the day time hero. He really should be in bed but he Insisted on staying up. 

  “Hi there, Danny right?” Duke said upon realizing he was first pick. Honestly he was kinda glad after all he was the only other person who had been around Danny in some way.  “ My name's Duke, I’m one of dicks brothers. I helped him find you when you flew off.” Duke kept his volume low and steady; he still wasn’t quite Sure if the kid's hearing was affected by his ability. 

  “You're the meta right?” His answer was just as quiet, Danny asked, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. 

  “Why yes I am, little man, Gatta says though I’m glad to have another powered up little friend around.” Duke said with a wink. 

  This made Danny giggle the sound open and soft like the chiming of a bell. The boy in Cass's arms leaned out more, clearly Comforted by Duke's quiet yet playful tone. 

  Dick chimed in with a wicked grin across his face which could only mean one thing, “ Yeah gotta say you guys could totally chill” 

  Danny immediately got excited at the prospect of puns, dang mabey this really was Dick secret love child. “ O Yhea! Icy what you did there. We could have a hail of a time.” Danny giggles barely able to keep his composure. 

  Dicks hand flew over his mouth barely keeping back the barrage of giggles. Cas liked dicks puns and all but this; it might be dangerous. 

  “Oh my lord,” Tim blurted out in a ‘I'm too tired to deal with this’ tone. 

  “Why Ice puns of all things?  that seems ridiculous, he’s not Mr. Freeze Richard.” Damian hissed, however his face screamed Curiosity. 

  “ Oh Yeah right I didn’t mention that, Danny accidentally frosted over his blanket a little.”  Dick rattled off adding yet another item to the ever growing list of Danny’s supposed abilities. 

  Damian thought about it for a moment, then nodded, “ Yes well I guess that makes some semblance of sense, I do believe Jon has done the same thing on more than one occasion.” 

  “You have a friend that can make frost! It would be snow cool to meet him.” Danny chirped, his Weight shifting off of Cass as he began to float with excitement. 

  “Calm down silly you're gonna float away,” cas said rubbing the boy's shoulder. 

  “ Yhea don’t wanna be out of this world now do we?“ Dick chucked. 

  Dick and Danny laughed, Tim and Damian groaned, and Duke and Cass were smiling. Yeah this meet and greet was Turning out to go smoother than they thought. 

————————————————-

  Bruce needed to calm down, his children were all giggles and smiles,( well except maybe Damian but as close as he could get to that, so besides him) they obviously were already growing attached to the little meta that had found there what in the dicks care. But Damian had brought up a fair point, some of the child’s powers did remind him of Jon and well Clark by extension.

  So now Bruce was worried, it wouldn’t have been the first time Clark had been cloned. But the kid was obviously injured so Surely that couldn’t be the case? Clark and Jon were practically indestructible. But then again Alfred had texted him to say that there had been green flecks in the boy's blood. They still had to test it but…But If the boy was a clone, one used to find and exploit the kryptonians weaknesses. 

  “So Danny? What do you like to do for fun?” Tim asked the boy who was floating with excitement. His daughter kept a firm grip to ground the boy. 

  “I like games and books!”

  “Oh what type of games?” 

  They boy thought for a moment his face scrunched in thought as if the Memories were hard to recall his hand placed on his chin(like how Clark looked when he was thinking about something) “I like tag!” Danny chirped his to blue to be human eyes widened with excitement. 

  Ok Yeah this is definitely a problem, Bruce needs to get his heart rate under control, before the actual Clark listens in and senses his panic. 

  And as if on cue his phone rang.

  “ I’m sorry I’ll be just a moment,” Bruce excused himself as his children planned how to set up a game of tag with a meta that can fly. 

  “ Yes Clark” 

  “ Hey B everything alright? You sound like something is wrong.” 

  “Clark, I need you to be honest with me…. Have, have you been cloned again to your knowledge?” 

  “ Not that I know of what makes you ask that,” worry began to creep into Kent's voice. 

  “ Clark I think, I think something bad is happening.”

  “Bruce, what’s going on?” 

  “Dick brought home a kid no older than 6, he found the kid in an alley passed out.” Bruce took a sharp inhale “ who ever managed to hide him there fought and paid with there life, there was way to much blood and no body” 

  Clark Hummed in agreement. 

  “ The kid is covered in scars, way too many to be childhood recklessness. And on top of that the freshest wound is a y shape going across his chest.” Bruce paused not wanting to think of the implications but they were clear as day, “ some one vivisected him Clark.” 

  “No who… you said he was 6. Wait, if you think he’s my clone how would that be possible. It would be impossible right?” 

  “Normally, however, the kid has green flecks in his blood. We haven’t been able to test them yet but. But that mixed with what powers he’s displayed.” 

  Silence from the other end of the line. 

  “Clark?”

  “I’m on my way B.” 

  “Clark, you don��t have to do that.” 

  “Yes yes I do, your heart rate keeps climbing and a potential clone, that is an actual child, is in your care.” Clark softens his tone. “I’m not making you do this alone B.” 

  “ The kid was found in Gotham, it’s not safe for you or Jon here till we figure out what’s happening.”

  “Too late Brucie, I'll see you in an hour.” 

  Better warn the kids that uncle Clark Is stopping by. 

——————————————

  “Are you Sure it’s safe to have him play tag?” Tim asked his brother. Danny was floating along the hallway being pulled along by Cass towards Dicks gym. 

  “Yep of course Timbo he promised to be careful and after all we gotta get this energy out of him somehow y’all got him all wound up.”  He wasn’t wrong Danny couldn’t contain himself enough to land back on the floor. He had even done a few flips when they said they could play.  “And after all poor duke stayed up so long already the least we can do is get the kid to come down so he can sleep in peace.” 

  Dick wasn’t wrong Duke had gone to bed but Tim knew he was having a rough time. It was actually Danny who convinced Duke to get some sleep, gave him his new blanket and everything. 

  When they got to the gym Dick got to work covering the place in Mats. Cass stepped up to help and Tim was left with Danny and Damian. The kid practically vibrated with eximent. Dicks gym was actually pretty big, it’s actually we’re Tim had learned some of his parkour and gymnastics he used for his night job. That meant it would be the perfect place to jump and swing after a flying meta child. 

  “ Can I help set it up! Where do you keep the guns? I can get those!” Danny blurted out innocently like he hadn’t just asked for a weapon. 

  “Guns?“ Tim swung his head towards the boy trying to keep his expression flat. 

  “Yhea! Normally when we play tag mom and dad or sometimes the other people shoot at me. You gotta try not to get hit.” 

  Tim froze in place, his mom and dad shot at him and he thinks it’s a game? That’s another point for the Science experiment list. “Well we said we were taking it easy, remember? So um no guns this time.” 

  “Oh ok.” Danny said easy enough at least, but he was clearly confused at the lack of weapon’s. 

  “Ok let’s lay down some ground rules!” Dick chimed bouncing on his heels. “ First little man, you can fly but you can’t go above 10 feet. We still gotta be able to catch you after all. “ Danny nodded, “ ok great! Next, this is a friendly game so no pushing or shoving. And lastly” dick tapped Damian lightly on the shoulder, “YOUR IT!”  And the game was on. 

  Dicks gymnasium was perfect for this weird game of aerial tag, the whole thing was covered in beans and bars, hanging loops, and plenty of places to jump and launch oneself into the air. Combine that with all the training the gang of birds( and a bat technically but Cass was as much of a bird as the rest of them)  had gone through, they had no problem keeping up with the floating boy.

  Danny was actually pretty good at keeping the 10 feet rule, and when he went above it he would jerk himself back down.  He also kept his turns pretty wide probably to keep him from twisting himself too much. Before long Damian had tagged Cass, launching himself from on top or a beam and tapping her on her shoulder. Cass giggled with delight and began the chase, the chain continued: dick, Danny, Tim, Cass,Damian,Danny,back to Cass, and now Tim. 

  Danny had the biggest grin on his face as he turned around and stuck his tongue out at Tim. Oh Tim was so gonna catch this kid. He took a running start then jumped and grabbed onto a horizontal bar, using his momentum to spin himself around and launch off. Propelling himself into the air after Danny. That was until the door flung open, causing Tim to turn to see who it was. He felt himself falling as he reached for his grapple…. He doesn’t have a grapple, he’s going to hit the floor. At least dick and Cass had laid Matts. He went to curl himself to roll the fall. 

  But he never hits the floor, he’s hanging in the air being held by the back of his shirt like a kitten. And who else is holding him but Danny. Holding Tim like he weighs nothing. And of course it just had to be B and Clark who had bust threw the door. 

  Tims face went red as dick and case giggled in the background. This was not happening. 

  —---------------------------------------------

  When Clark walked in he was a little surprised to be fair. He had heard the children giggling from down the hall even without his super hearing. But a game of arial tag was not what he had expected. And on top of that the clone(Danny he apparently liked to be called), had ‘saved’ Tim from a fall and was holding him up with one hand like he weighed nothing. 

  The boy's heart rate proceeded to sky rocket as his eyes flicked between Bruce and Clark. The kids bright blue eyes wide. He gently places Tim on his feet then rushes to hide behind Bruce's oldest. The man was hanging upside on a ring, his legs hooked around it.  The small boy is clinging to dicks pants.  Floating Soundlessly mid-air. 

  “I'm sorry we didn't mean to scare you,” Bruce offers, holding his hands up so they're visible. Clark followed, B did warn the boy was jumpy. “ Sorry, I texted you, I thought you read it.”

  “No it's ok,” Dick said in a soft tone patting the boy's shoulder despite his position, “ We were playing tag so we were kind of distracted.” Dick does a flip landing on his feet. Danny swiftly scrambled into his arms hiding his face Against the man's chest. The boy's heart seems to calm at the touch. 

  “ I'm sorry if we spooked you,” Clarke offered, trying to keep his voice mello, “ can I make it up to you?” 

  The boy ignored them, gripping tighter onto Dicks shirt. 

  He couldn't deny Bruce's observation, the boy did kind of look like Clark but he was…off. Maybe a side effect of what they had done to him? He looked at the slightly shorter man next to him. His face was glazed with worry, a consequence of the man’s ever-bleeding heart.  But He would be lying if he said he didn't like it, Bruce had always had a soft spot for children. 

  “Danny this is Clark, he's really nice I promise,” dick nudged the boy. All of the kids had crowded around Dick, forming a half circle. Cass rubbed Danny's back gently prompting him to reach for and hold her hand. Even Damian had moved, his body held wound like he was ready to pounce if either man took a step forward. “ he's a friend” 

  “Danny, I just wanted to say hello I'm not going to hurt you,” he thought about what Bruce had told him about the boy. The way he explained the boy's apparent love of books and stars with a soft smile on his face. Clark loved that smile. “ You like stars right? That’s pretty cool, did you know that a lot of the stars have story’s connected to them.”

  They boy perked up at the mention of story’s. “Stories!” They boy practically vibrated. 

  “Yes?” Clark stated hestinly, the boy's excitement sending a strange buzzing sensation throughout the kryptonians body. 

  “Can we tell stories,” Danny tugged softly on dicks shirt, “ please.” 

  “Shure why not!” Dick chimed happily.

  2 hours later 

  Clark was a patient man but sitting down for 2 hours as a child told the legends about stars has pushed him to his limit. It wasn’t even that Danny was annoying or had I’ll intentions, it was that he was just so excited. He would regularly start floating and have to be grounded, or would lose track of the story on a side tangent. He stimmed with his hands a lot, which had caused him to hit more than one person on accident. 

  Take all that with the fact that Clark took the opportunity to use his x-ray vision on the boy. He didn’t like what he found. For the most part they boy was normal, but a pit sat where his heart would be. A mass that Clark could not see through. B had said the boy had evidence that he was vivisected. He also said the kid had green flecks in his blood. Which could only mean one thing. Whoever cut the boy open had implanted one of those little green rocks inside his heart. 

  It made Clark sick as he watched this boy, who’s heartbeat was just a littel to slow, who’s frame was small with malnutrition, and who had been left abandoned. Some had hurt this kid clone or not. Conner was a clone but he was just as much Clark's as jon was. The fact that the boy was still functioning was a testament to how much he had been around it.

  Bruce seemed to sense Clark’s tension placing his hand in his. 

Well it did help, It didn’t stop his worry. 

  Danny turned around slowly and looked Clark in the eyes. A confused expression crossed his face. “ That man likes your daddy.” He said to dick ‘a matter of factly’.

  The room went silent Cass and dick stifling laughs. Clarks cheeks began to heat, being called out by a six year old. 

  “I um…. Yes I do like his dad? B and I are good friends.” Clark managed to blurt out his Accent cutting through in his flustered state. Him and Bruce had started experimenting but it wasn’t even serious Enough to tell the kids yet. 

  “ No you like him” Danny said with a devilish grin. “ I can hear it.” Clark took note that when the boy said ‘hear’ he placed his hand on his chest. 

  “ Ok I think we're done for the night!” Tim shoots up scoping Danny out of the air. “ Come one Dick don’t you think we should get Danny in bed.” 

  “I’m not tir!-“

  “Yep totally,” dick giggled. “Come on starshine, it’s late.” Cass popped up beside him and sent  her father a small smile. “ You wanna be able to play tomorrow right?” Dick siad pinching the boy's cheek. 

  Damian hadn’t said a word he was,Pouting? He had a sour expression on his face, not one Clark thought he liked. “Sleep now, wounds heal” Cass added as she finished putting away the last of the Mats they had been sitting on.

  “ Oh we’ll then good night Danny,” Bruce added his tone soft. “ I hope to see you in the morning?” 

  “I agree it’s awfully late and I do have school in the morning.” Damian half heartily complained as he left the room. Clark hadn’t even noticed he had gotten up.  All of B's children processed to scurry out of the room full of giggles and smirks. Well this is not how he thought this night would go. 

  “Hm” Bruce finally added into the silent room. “ So what do you think of him?”

  “To be honest I think he’s going to fit right in, a little detective already.” He grubles, “ But B something is wrong with him”

  “What Clark?” The tension returned to Bruce’s shoulders. “What did you see?” 

  “It’s not what I did, it’s what I couldn't. I think…. I think someone implanted kryptonyte into the boy's heart. It makes too much Sense, it explains the flecks in his blood, why I can’t see his heart, why he seems so physically weak, and the surgery wound.” Clark looked at B, staring into his soft blue eyes, “ Someone, something, hurt that boy and I don’t know if it’s even safe for us to fix it.” 

And that look Clark hated to see was back. The look of hopelessness, the same one he had when they lost someone in a mission. The same look that happens when he thinks of Jason. 

And this time he doesn’t know how to fix it. 

  ————————————————-

  “So timbo any reason in particular you stormed out,” Dick finally broke the silence of the hallway. Dick, Cass, and Tim were all sitting in the hallway outside of dicks old room, they had tucked Danny into bed but none had the heart to stray too far. 

  “ I don’t want to talk about it.” He mumbled his face tinting pink. 

  “Tim did you not know? Buddy it's so obvious I swear. How did you not know? Those two are constantly together.” Dick giggled. 

  “ I…No and it’s just weird, did you see B's face? They were holding hands! It was just so all at once. And also does that mean I Inherited my taste in men from Bruce. Is nothing sacred.” Tim rambled on. He didn’t want to think about it. He knew B had been with people, shoot the baby bat was living proof. But he always made an effort to keep it away from the kids. Yet he was holding hands with Superman. And now Tim was starting to think maybe dick wasn’t the only one who took after B.

  Does That mean Kon is taking after Clark? Ok nope turning brain off no more of that train. 

  “You're a dork,” Dick ruffled Tim’s hair. This was it Tim was going to roll over and die.

————————————————-

  On the other side of Gotham the rain pours and the thunder rolls. The sky sticks with static electricity. A white van parked itself on the opposite side of the city, and the people inside were not welcome. 

  “Dose this rain ever fucking stop,” A man groaned.

  “They warned us the city was gloomy,” his partner pointed out. They stepped out of the van and headed towards Gotham cathedral. Their White suites soaked with Gotham's malice. 

  She would drive them out, she would find a way. For her new ward and for her knights she vowed.

OK guys you know the drill its tag time there is a lot of you im so sorry if i missed some one:

@fisticuffsatapplebees

@terzatheunderscorerima @sweet-itachi-lovin @undead-essence @blacksea21090 @markus209 @nonbinary-disasterter @starkcravingmad @ashxshadow @aikoiya @rainbowbunny0159 @pastalavistamf @kae-membrana-blog @thegatorsgoose @beelze-the-bubkiss @mayoota-blog1 @wisteriavines @kilasmess @grey-lysander @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @aconitewolfsbane

@may-rbi @justwannaseesomebrozawa @chaoticmistake @seraphinedemort

[birdantlers]

You know, it wouldn't even occur to me that certain ships might even exist... if authors of fanart like yours (even before your dragonball phase) didn't insist on bringing that fact to my attention by screaming murder at anyone who might dare interpret their stuff in a certain way. And it's exactly that disclaimer that causes me to look closer at the art in question and realize that... oh wow, right, Gohan is really acting like a jealous lover here, huh? Assuming he must be the One Person (1/3)

My condolences about your daddy issues or whatever, but you're the one that's reading weirdly deep into this, dude. I genuinely don't know what kind of 'gotcha' you think you wrote but... damn.

Is this your first day on the internet? People tag and draw blatantly-platonic seeming art that's actually ship art upon closer investigation constantly. Now idc what people do as long as its properly tagged, but it's a different story when my art is involved. Of course my DNIs are to prevent "misunderstandings." I'm not a moron; anyone can pick out supporting evidence for their bias if they look for it, which is exactly the point of saying I don't condone it. It's me going "Hey, these are my boundaries! If you don't respect them, that's shitty of you!"

I can't control how people interpret my art. I know this—but I can sure as hell clear the air about my intent and opinions. So I'll make myself very clear: I don't like my content being seen in a romantic context. Unless I confirm otherwise, it's platonic. Why? Because I fucking say so. If word of god isn't reason enough, that's on you. Your inability to see emotional intimacy between two adults as anything but romantic is not my fault—nor is it my responsibility to overcorrect.

It may shock you that, yes, this is how many families do interact. Not everyone's idea of a "convincingly portrayed" family dynamic is going to be the same. I'm a very sappy person irl and so is my family. It's honestly kind of pathetic that you obviously think my content is too much for a paternal relationship.

Even aside from that though, your arguments are just bad. I mean did you even reread this before you sent it? Sure. "Gohan acts like a jealous lover..." of his preschool-age daughter. Yeah, that's a totally normal take. Really makes you seem like a well-adjusted individual. I don't even know where you got the jealousy thing from since he spends the whole comic actively trying to leave and stop Pan from sticking up for him. Your other points are just conspiratorial; I see no point addressing them.

So yeah, take your final proposition and shove it. Maybe focus on how to "effectively and convincingly portray" whatever content measures up to your standards instead of preaching to me like I shouldn't do the same. I don't owe you jack—especially when you're too much of a coward to talk down to me while hiding behind anon.

And if this is who I think it is (given the timeframe you let slip), get off of that damn high horse already. You're not the patron saint of correct characterization, and your unwarranted criticism doesn't make you look smart. It makes you look like an entitled tool who can't resist hearing your own voice. Quit tearing people's hobby work down because you can't find enough fan content to satisfy your own standards.

I love found family. I love sickeningly sweet """unconvincing""" found family, and if you think that's trite, ooc, or—I guess, romantic—keep it to yourself. You're not going to 'con'crit me out of creating exactly what makes me happy, and this weird victim-blamey diatribe sure as hell isn't either. If anything, you've only convinced me to keep using DNIs.

[damnea]

Christopher Awdry's annual stories 1989

---

I think I mentioned this story in the tags of my last post.

This is one those annual stories thats been adapted quite a bit, but its always nice to be able to read the story itself.

Old Square Wheels

The Fat Controller had borrowed a diesel. He told Duck to show the new engine round, but Diesel made mistakes, and the trucks began singing cheeky songs about him.

Trucks are waiting in the Yard: tackling them with ease'll.

"Show the world what I can do." gaily boasts the Diesel.

In and out he creeps about, like a big black weasel.

When he pulls the wrong trucks out. Pop goes the Diesel!

Duck was cross, and told the trucks to stop, but Diesel thought the song was Duck's fault.

"I'll pay him out," Diesel said to himself, but he couldn't think how.

"It's not fair," he complained to Henry, Gordon and James. "I never get a moment's peace from these rude trucks, and it's all because of that Duck!"

"Nonsense," said Henry. "Duck would never do that. It would be des...des..."

"Disgraceful!" put in Gordon. "Disgusting!" said James.

"Despicable!" finished Henry.

Diesel was not convinced. He spent the rest of the day wondering how he would get his own back.

Next day, Henry's trucks chattered amongst themselves, and paid no attention to him. They were very full and wanted to take it out on someone. "Why not Henry?" they whispered to each other.

"Wait until I give the word," said the front truck. At last the signal went down. "Come on you." Henry ordered shortly.

Reluctantly, and still chattering, the trucks followed him out of the yard.

All went well until they reached the top of the hill. "Steady," Henry warned the trucks. They heard, but they took no notice.

"Now!" Shouted the front truck.

"Go on, go on!" Yelled the trucks as, surging against Henry's tender, they pushed as hard as they could.

"Stop, stop!" Wailed Henry, and his driver braked as hard as he dared. But Henry couldn't hold the heavy trucks properly - his wheels locked, and he slithered, out of control, down the hill with the stupid trucks cheering and shouting behind him.

"Help, help!" Whistled Henry despairingly.

Thomas, waiting in the branch line platform, saw Henry coming, but could do nothing to help. But the hill ended before reaching the station, and Henry was at last able to bring the silly trucks under control.

Gradually his driver eased off the brakes. When he was sure that the trucks were behaving themselves, Henry came to a controlled stop. "Phew!" he said. "What stupid things trucks are- they could have caused an accident."

"Never mind," said Thomas. "They didn't, that's the main thing. You did well to stop them."

Thomas puffed away, and after a while Henry set off again. But something strange seemed to have happened to his wheels. Each time they went round there was a 'clunk' when they reached a certain spot. "What's that?" he asked after a while.

Illustration pulled from wiki

"You've got a flat tyre," said the driver.

"What?" objected Henry indignantly. "Engines don't get flat tyres. Only cars and lorries - and buses like Bertie - get them." His driver laughed.

"It's the trucks' fault," he explained. "All that sliding on the hill, with your wheels locked in the same place, has worn a flat place on each of your driving wheels. You'll have to go to the Works, I'm afraid."

They clunked to the end of the line, and Henry went crossly to the Shed. Duck was there, and Diesel. "What's the matter, Henry?" asked Duck. "Those trucks been playing you up, have they?"

"Yes, they have." snorted Henry. "Pushed me down the hill, and now Driver says I've got flat tyres."

"Ah," said Duck. "Bumpy, that. But you can't trust trucks, can you. Ah well, I hope you get your 'flats' sorted out all right." And he puffed off to see about the next train.

Diesel snickered. He'd just had an idea. Next day he spoke to the trucks.

"That was a good trick you played on Henry," he said. "He's got flat tyres now, and has gone to the Works to have them replaced." He paused.

"I shouldn't really tell you this," he went on quietly. "but! know you won't pass it on. Do you know Duck's new nickname for Henry? Old Square Wheels.

Good isn't it? Don't tell anyone I told you." The trucks promised, but as Duck had said, you cannot trust trucks.

When Henry came back from the Works the whisper went round. "Here's Old Square Wheels," it said. "Old Square Wheels is back."

As Diesel had expected, it was only a matter of time before the trucks told Henry that Duck had invented the nickname.

"I'll give him Duck," Henry said furiously. "Just wait till I see him again!"

The trucks snickered, and Diesel smirked with satisfaction.

"That worked well," he said to himself. "Now, what can I think up about Gordon?"

[eclecticrecap]

Unfortunately, I think the right of passage of my life is to just accept the fact I will constantly be stuck in horrible decisions to choose from, such as:

My grandmother's house, a small home, only three bedrooms, one my father used (he snores too much that my mother cannot stand to sleep next to him) before he later could live inside the service/wifi forsaken home in the countryside to flourish and replenish a sense of humanity unlike his grubby handed children, whilst working for a pharmacy chain. The other room, was used by my mother, my brother having to sleep in that room because the second guest bed was just so small and my brother was afraid to sleep alone don't you DARE bully him (He won't technically see it but idk it wouldnt sit well on my conscious) And me? Well usually I'd share the master bed with my grandmother up until fated 2020 when I picked up the permanent curse of floor sleeping, you think I would be capable at that time of touching the second floor, even? Let alone a bed? Whilst the OCD brain termites had forsaken my bodily autonomy? I had free will, and permission to sleep on the floor.

But here's another problem, my grandmother's house doesn't particularly have a workspace friendly spot besides her own things, not many easy places to put my drawing tablet and pc without having to uncomfortably sit, so all I really had was the dining room's sewing table, I don't know why the sewing table was so desk-able and serving cunt with that tablecloth ontop of it, (during 2020 I got glitter stuck on it and then one tiny blot of ink.....whoops) BUT NOT ONLY THAT ITS RIGHT NEXT TO THE FUCKING KITCHEN, so I kinda had to settle for just not having a good place to be in Discord voice calls, for a 16yo chronically online during covid time that is a personal nightmare.

And let me tell you it would make me scratch my skin in anxiety and frustration when one day I had been on my pc and smelled the MOST DISGUSTING FUCKING STENCH OF A COUNTERTOP POLISH EVER HOLY SHIT I WENT INTO A SPIRAL OF ANXIETY, I DIDN"T KNOW WHAT TO DO, WHERE TO GO, THE BRAIN TERMITES FORBID ME THE STAIRS, FORBID ME TO SIT AMONGST THE CHAIRS AND COUCHES OF THE LIVING ROOM, HELL, EVEN THE FUCKING BACKYARD.

So I strong-armed through it, she was polishing her countertop for at least 30 minutes, not sure why it took 30 minutes, I arguably was already anxious to be there because she constantly would accuse me of scratching her stove when there wasn't anything noticeable on her stove, one time I placed a knife on there for 5 seconds to get something and the blade didnt even touch the stove and she started getting real mad and said "It's nothing like how it used to look" or something like that when THERE WAS BARELY ANY VISIBLE SCRATCHES ON THIS STOVETOP, I WAS SENT INTO A PANIC I COULDN"T EVNENNb FUCKOJGHN OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY GFOOOOOODDDD

Now, you know how I had dyed my hair a bit during this year? Well when I said I fully bleached my hair, I didn't mention the fact the lower layer of my full head of hair, was dyed red, now, remember the mention of my OCD preventing me from properly showering? Because the brain termites told me using the showers would result in terrible things happening to me? (I genuinely don't know how the fuck I didn't stink if I recall there were some moments I ended up sponge bathing in one of the bathrooms because there's no damn way, it was SUMMER in arizona.)

Well, that resulted in me not spending time to wash my hair, and if you ever dyed your hair (respectively, look at you, I highly doubt theres someone reading this who hasn't, I don't mind being proven wrong.) well, red hair, is messy, and the red dye SOMEHOW WAS TURNING MY SHIRT'S TAG PINK???????? AND WHENEVER I SCRATCFHED MY CRUSTY ASS SCALP, PINK WOULD BECOME MY FINGERTIPS, UNDERNEATH MY NAILS. AND I GUESS BY TOUCHING THE COUNTERTOP...THE FUCKING COUNTERTOP OR ANYTHING I FUCKING TOUCHED TURNED FUCKING PINK???????????????????????????

So you can imagine later in october, when I dyed it dark blue, I would probably run into this same problem, I wanted to wash it in the kitchen sink, since my family often uses sinks to wash hair because WE ARE FREAKS I DONT CARE WHAT IM TOLD I GET IT ITS WEIRD. But I wanted to wait until i could have assistance for it, I believe it was because I didn't know what shampoo to use, and alot of the times I just, crusty teen shit I sucked at washing my own hair.

But my grandmother randomly started thinking I was going to shower, however, I didn't say I was going to shower, now maybe its because I was afraid to use the shower, but even then I was still sponge-bathing to at least keep some form of hygiene, but I had a feeling it was more because of my hair because she didn't give a shit if I was in public spaces, and for her, the person who will openly tell you if she thinks you look too uggo for idk.. a walmart? And I previously was obviously discussing the hair dye transfer problem, so I had decided beforehand to just, wash my hair in the sink, like weird family tradition.

Now this was I believe the day after I dyed it blue, I had to leave the house, and we were supposed to leave the house soon. But suddenly she tells me she would not take me to the store unless my hair was washed, so I was a little anxious, because the brain termites were telling me showers were bad, but I felt like explaining it would make me get laughed at, despite how real those intrusive thoughts feel to someone with OCD, and I didn't predict us being stuck at this house for well... the entire year. It was normal for us to wash hair in the kitchen sink, it's metal, it's been done for years, but she didn't want to wait until I had help with washing my hair in said sink so that was arguably not fun. Thank fuck I'm medicated??????? idk

At least nothing in her house turned blue.

[ajwinter-is-a-nerd]

Le Chat et le Serpent - Chapter 44

Please note that the entirety of this story is a ****TRIGGER WARNING***** - mentions of child abuse, graphic violence, alcohol use, mental health, suicide, suicidal ideation, self-harm - basically a constant blow of pain towards the characters - as well as some "steamier" moments.

Chapter Summary:

Adrien comes home from the hospital and sees the state that Luka is in.

There is a symptom that will likely catch your attention, please read the end notes to understand why it will not be a large piece in the future, why it was important here, and my general basis for putting it in.***

Chapter 44: I Love Lucy

It was like when you make a move in chess and just as you take your finger off the piece, you see the mistake you've made, and there's this panic because you don't know yet the scale of disaster you've left yourself open to.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

Adrien was already ripping off his wrist tag behind Luka as he waited for the papers to be signed. He was beyond eager to leave. 

“Sign here, and here, and this line says that you understand that he may not be mentally stable.” The clerk indicated the lines one by one as he went through the papers. 

“Luka, where are the car keys?” Adrien started patting Luka down for the keys. 

Without looking up from the papers, Luka distantly responded. “You are not driving yet, but if you check this bag,” Luka pushed the bag beside him with his foot, “you can get ready to go.” 

“Sir - we’re not really supposed to let the pat-,” The clerk's words were cut off by Luka’s steel glare. He was so close to finishing the pen work, he did not want to have a fight over Adrien stepping past the door to go into a bathroom. 

-

Adrien had underestimated how good it felt to wear his own clothes. Luka had meticulously picked out his outfit. With each button of his favourite lilac shirt, Adrien felt more empowered. Rolling up the cuffs of a sleeve was the first of many sensations that he would not soon forget. 

Going the extra mile, Luka had even been thoughtful enough to add in hair product and a concealer stick. They were all small things, but they were small things that helped Adrien feel like he was in his own skin. 

Running his fingers over the back of his hand, he noticed how his ring tan had almost completely faded while he was locked up. He was eager to regain the tones of uneven skin; to properly reunite with his Kwami of Destruction.

“ADRIEN!” Plagg, overwhelmed with excitement, batted repeatedly into Adrien’s face. 

“I missed you too, Plagg.” Adrien’s eyelashes fluttered as Plagg disregarded any qualms for personal space. 

“You look good, Kid!” Plagg pulled at Adrien’s face, noting the fullness of his cheeks. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not nice to lie?” Adrien snickered as he twisted the bottom of his concealer stick. 

Dramatically falling to the edge of the sink, Plagg draped a paw over his face. His voice raised an octave, to increase the feigned emotion in his performance. “How dare you?” His other paw swung through the air. “I never met my mother!” 

“Graduated from Lucifer to soap operas, hey?” Adrien grinned as he smoothed out the flesh toned cream.

“For the record,” Plagg soared back up near Adrien’s head, “I think I would be an excellent actor.” 

Grimacing at the burns on his arms, Adrien checked the level of his concealer. It may not be enough to fully cover the marks, but it would at least be enough to boost his confidence in his rolled up sleeves. In a peculiar way, it was a sense of freedom. An ability to present himself as he used to be; a man who’s flaws were hidden to those around him. 

Plagg gloomily floated above Adrien’s marks as he covered them up. “I thought they were supposed to help you here, not physically maim you.” He resisted his urge to caress the uneven skin. 

“They dope you to shut you up, restrain you when you try to leave, and even force you to colour.” Adrien smirked as he rubbed over the marks without a flinch. 

“Dear god, NOT COLOURING!” Plagg’s laughs devolved to silence as Adrien stretched out the last crumbs of concealer. “They were trying to help though, right? Did… did they help? I mean, if you need, I’ve heard I have expert taste in colouring books.” 

Twisting his arm, Adrien checked his work; it was a little patchy. But, at least now, it more closely resembled a skin condition than repeated battles against restraints. “Don’t worry Plagg, I wasn’t an ass-hat the whole time. I read the books I was supposed to. Still coloured when I needed to. Did all that fun stuff. They may not be thrilled with my progress, but leaving wouldn’t be on the table at all if I didn’t make some form of progress.” 

“Either that or you got better at faking it.” Plagg hovered inches from Adrien’s face. 

Tossing the concealer container to the trash, it rebounded on the inside rim and propelled to the bottom of the bag. “My whole life has been masks and facades. If I was that good I would have been out by the end of the first 72 hours.” 

Nodding, Plagg accepted his half-answer. “Are you done colouring yourself, or do we have to make Luka wait longer for you to frost your tips?” 

Adrien scrunched his face in confused amusement, “Do you even know what that means?” 

“I don’t know, it’s something pretty boy’s do!” Plagg defended himself as Adrien repacked the bag. 

“Plagg, no. Frosted tips are always a bad idea.” Adrien pointed a finger to show his seriousness on the topic. Before Plagg could have a chance to argue, Adrien was turning the knob to leave. 

Stepping out, Adrien startled at Luka’s presence. He was resting against the wall, sitting on the unforgiving linoleum flooring, directly across from the bathroom. His fatigue was palatable as his head continued to uncontrollably droop.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Adrien flashed a model-esque smile as he reached a hand out to Luka. 

“I-I should drive.” Luka nodded at his own statement as they descended to the parking lot. By the time the car was in sight, the designated driver was glaringly obvious. Luka’s feet were dragging as he struggled to stand straight. 

Leading Luka, Adrien walked to the passenger side and opened the door for him. Adrien could see that, for a moment, Luka was going to protest it again, but his exhaustion took his argument away. While Adrien paced around the car, Luka struggled with his seatbelt, tugging at it over and over with it seemingly getting stuck. Adrien opened his door in time to see Sass grabbing the lip of the buckle to click it in for Luka. 

“How did you even get here?” Adrien exclaimed as he dropped himself into the seat. “You should not have been driving to begin with! You know there’s a corporate driver, right?” 

Adrien playfully tsked as the engine hummed through the petals. For a device that requires so many government documents, regulations, and tracking, it was curious how freeing a vehicle was. Relishing the sensation of the shifting of gears, Adrien nearly missed Luka’s explanation. 

“I knew you would want your car.” Luka yawned as his eyes fell closed. 

Adrien despised how much strength he lost while he was in the hospital. Before, he could carry nearly all of Luka’s weight. Now, he could barely act as a pivot point while they rode up the elevator. 

Stepping into the house, Adrien continued to work to bear Luka’s weight until they passed the threshold. The man briskly and robotically broke from Adrien’s hold. Adrien was in awe as he tried to keep up with Luka, who had entered a form of auto-pilot. 

As if stepping through a pre-planned map, he kicked his shoes off as he stepped to the kitchen. Next, he went to the fridge where he could simultaneously fill a water bottle while rooting for Kwami treats. The treats were dolled out as he dealt with the path of lights, practised to have the least amount of steps. Adrien wasn’t certain that Luka was aware of his presence as he waddled to the top of the stairs. While in motion, Luka tossed his water bottle and phone to the bed, stopping only to remove his clothing. At this point, there were only two steps left; he fell towards the bed, always within reaching distance of the items he’d previously thrown. 

From an observer’s perspective, it was difficult to discern if Luka was asleep before he hit the bed or not. Either way, within seconds of the sheets touching his skin, his snores rang through the room. 

Unbuttoning his pants, Adrien watched the rise of Luka’s back with each breath. He had been so excited to see Luka outside his white-walled prison, but could see that he had severely underestimated the sleep deprivation that Luka had endured over the last months. Not wanting to disturb Luka’s slumber, Adrien carefully set his folded clothes on the desk. Unlike Luka’s sleep routine, each of Adrien’s movements were soft and carefully considered. He stepped with the finesse of a cat, only opened drawers part way so that they would not rattle, and slowly pulled pyjama pants over his legs. 

For a moment, Adrien had contemplated wearing a top, especially since the material would be a far higher quality than the starch provided by the hospital. However tempting that thought may have been, he knew that it was fruitless, considering his violent panic attacks had returned to their nightly rotation. 

Tip toeing into the bathroom, he entered his next phase of sleep preparation. There was an evergoing list of aspects of life that he had never appreciated the luxury of, such as his high-end toothbrush. Impressed at the difference in quality, Adrien ran his tongue along his teeth as he cleaned the concealer from his face and arms. He hadn’t been able to wear his mask for very long, but it had been worth it nonetheless. 

He toyed with the concept of basking in the luxury of his own shower but, beyond the fact that it might wake Luka up, sharing a bed with the black-haired man seemed like a far superior option. 

Now that Adrien’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, it was easier to stealth around the room, more aware of any perils that may lie before him. Crawling onto the bed, he examined the man in his bed. Somehow, while deeply snoring, Luka had managed to pull the blankets up just enough to cover his hind. Adrien marvelled at how the moonlight shone upon Luka’s back, highlighting what seemed to be a number of tattoos. Confused, considering the short time frame, Adrien ran his fingers along Luka’s shoulder blade to determine if his eyes were playing tricks on him. His touch had been so light, he did not notice the freshness of the first tattoo he touched, a Chat Noir themed tattoo that ran up the side of Luka’s back up to the edge of his shoulder. 

A devil on your shoulder. How tongue in cheek. 

Adrien chuckled as he continued his survey of Luka’s skin. The arm attached to the Chat was nearly completely covered. A significantly floral theme encompassed the exterior of his arm, elegantly surrounding a profile of a woman. Her eye was extremely detailed, Adrien could see that she was looking into a night’s sky. Her hair blew in the wind, adding a touch of emotion and seasonal affect. Though his scope of vision was limited, he could identify most of what the underside of Luka’s arm was. It appeared to be a time turner cascading sand over a broken clock face. Intrigued, Adrien leaned in closer, unintentionally applying additional pressure to Luka’s shoulder.

The man jolted awake, needing to separate himself from whatever was causing him pain. Glacier eyes were opened wide to see what the imminent threat was; they calmed once they landed on Adrien, who had at that point curled into a defensive ball. 

“Sorry! I was just… Looking.” His head started to peek up from the hiding place behind his knees, praying that he wasn’t met with a face of anger. 

“Sorry,” Luka grumbled in return. “That one’s new… It hurt.” 

“Oh, I.. I should have assumed at least one would be fresh.” Adrien unravelled from his ball and perched his elbow onto his pillow. 

“Yeah,” Luka slid his arm under his own head to have a clearer view of Adrien. “I’ve been a bit of a guinea pig.” 

“Well, I just hope that you made sure it was sanitary.” Adrien attempted to chuckle through his jab, knowing  all too well who the artist was. 

In his re-descent into incoherence, Luka hadn’t even caught the remark. All he could see was a half smirk on a gorgeous man’s face. “I missed you so fucking much.” He mumbled while pawing at Adrien. 

“I missed you too.” Adrien slid under the covers only to be squished by the heaviest blanket in existence. 

Luka, still half asleep, littered Adrien’s face with kisses.

Adrien giggled, accepting his defeat. Gingerly pushing the hair from Luka’s face, he whispered softly. “Can we stay like this forever?”

In a far brusquer tone, Luka responded with a simple “Please”, followed by a trail of kisses from Adrien’s cheekbone to jaw line. By the time Luka’s path brought his head close to the pillow, he had completely given into sleep once more. 

Adrien was being pushed down into the river, his hospital gown bubbling at the surface. He was thrashing with his hands out to Luka. 

“Lu-uka!” Adrien screamed as water gurgled in his mouth.

Luka tried to pull forward, but Adrien was out of reach. 

I need to get help . Luka thought as he scanned their surroundings, there was no one besides the lab coats who were working to push him under.

“Lu..!” Adrien’s head sunk, now fully submerged into the water. 

Luka treaded forward, but the water trapped his legs. He looked down to pull his feet out, only to find the water had become a syrup red. 

“Luka…” Adrien’s voice sobbed. 

The lake was now empty and the only parts of Adrien that broke the surface were his face and one of his hands; his body itself shaped by the air bubbles sporadically lifting pieces of his crimson stained gown above the water. 

“Please, don’t leave me here.” Adrien pleaded with him, the reddened lake water gripping at the edge of his lips. 

Luka couldn’t see Adrien’s tears, but he knew they existed. Desperate to help, Luka viciously tugged at his own legs to move, but they only fell deeper in.

“Please, don’t leave me here.” The plea continued to repeat, each time gaining in urgency and volume, until it finally evolved to a horrified shriek. 

With a blink, Luka was sprinting through white halls, following a trail of smeared blood. Adrien’s screams were relentless against Luka’s ears as he frantically searched for the man. He needed to find him. He had to save Adrien. 

The atmosphere thickened as time fell still, the pleas now barely audible. Adrien rested on his knees, his head hung before him, his hands behind his back. As Luka went to step forward the shriek stabbed at his ear drums once again; Adrien was screaming while fighting to reach him, his gown covered in nose-bleed residue. Stepping forward, the sensation of falling overcame Luka. He was falling onto the scene as hands pulled Adrien to the ground. 

The further Luka fell, the further the scene became. 

The sun blinded Luka as he awoke from his fall with a heave. As he had done every night for the past two months, he panickedly patted the bed. As always, it was empty. 

The sun is too hot. Luka thought to himself as he grabbed for his cellphone. It was further away than usual. The time read 14.12 hours. 

“Shit!” Luka threw off the sheets and tornadoed around the room getting ready. 

“Luka… Did you have another nightmare?” Sass calmly floated around Luka’s neurotic dash around the room. 

The lilac shirt caught Luka’s attention. The entire outfit he’d chosen was folded on the desk.

Strange, I thought I already put them in the bag.

“No time, Sass!” He shouted as he ran down the stairs. 

He shoved the clothes in the bag by the door as Adrien stared at him from the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” Adrien’s elated tone was ridden with confusion. 

“I don’t have time for you right now.” Luka shot as he zipped up the bag and threw it over his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Adrien’s voice cracked as he looked down at his coffee. “Do you want me to put your coffee in a to go mug?” 

“You’re funny.” Luka sneered as he reached for the keys. 

Fuck. Where are the keys? They’re always here. 

Adrien stepped forward as Luka automatically checked his pockets. “What are you looking for?” 

“Like you’ll be able to help.” Luka shut him out as he ran around checking every surface for the Mini’s keys. 

“Are you mad at me?” Adrien barely whispered as he set down his coffee. 

“Shut-up! I’m trying to find the car keys!” He yelled at the downtrodden man. 

I’m late to pick up Adrien. 

“Oh, sorry.” Adrien took the keys out of his pocket and dangled the ring on his finger. 

Luka looked up at his Prettyboy in horror. He couldn’t determine if the air was difficult to walk through because he was dreaming or if he was restrained from panic. 

Adrien lifted his brow as Luka poked at the keys. What in the fuck is he doing? Where is he going in a panicked rush? 

The keys swung at Luka’s touch. He pulled them off Adrien’s finger and held them in his hand. Pressing the cold metal against his palm, they truly seemed real. 

Adrien watched in discomfort as Luka jabbed the metal to his skin. “Okay, now I’m really worried.” Adrien voiced as he gripped Luka’s shoulders. 

The pain from the fresh tattoo seared Luka’s shoulder. 

“Oh shit!” Adrien took his hands back. “Sorry, I completely forgot about the new tattoos.” 

The burn from the tattoo continued to burn Luka awake. “How are you here?” He reached his fingers out, wanting to touch him, but scared that he would disappear. That if he was a dream, or an illusion, it was too flawless to risk letting him fade. 

Adrien coiled his hand around Luka’s. “Babe, you picked me up yesterday. You were late, but that was because of an Akuma.” 

Adrien’s hand was warm against Luka’s. Blue oceans shot to Adrien’s magnificently emerald eyes. There wasn’t a speckle of red in his green eyes, or blood anywhere on his clothes. “Adrien?” 

“Do I really look that different?” Adrien scoffed.

Luka pulled Adrien into his arms. He could feel his body against his. The heartbeat he had missed for so long. 

“Luuka!” Adrien wheezed. “You’re squishing me!” 

Luka took Adrien’s face in his hands. He ran his thumb along blushing cheeks. He dropped his lips to Adrien, and they eagerly kissed him back. Elated, Luka backed Adrien up to a wall. His forearm rested on the wall above Adrien’s head as his other hand pushed into flesh. The hand that touched Adrien kept moving, wherever Luka felt it could pull him closer. 

Breathing was slightly difficult as Luka pushed against him and took his lips repeatedly. A piece of Adrien wanted to pause the moment, but every cell in his body screamed for Luka’s touch. 

Finally, Luka took a breath, leaning his cheek on Adrien’s temple. “I love you.” His words of endearment warmed Adrien’s ear. 

Adrien brought one of his hands through Luka’s velvety hair. “I love you , Luka Couffaine.” 

Luka resumed his affection against the man, pushing him deeper into the wall. He ignored the ringing that started emanating from his back pocket, he didn’t want to acknowledge that anyone besides Adrien existed. There was nothing more important than this moment. 

“Luka,” Adrien mumbled between heavy kisses. “Luka, your phone.” 

“No.” Luka responded as he brought his lips to Adrien’s neck, inciting a moan.

The apartment buzzer started to aggressively groan at them. 

“Luk-ah!” Adrien was electrifying under his touch. He wasn’t sure how many people knew that he was here yet, but the last thing he wanted was to see someone unexpected for the first time in months while in an obvious state of arousal. 

Luka shook his head as he held one of Adrien’s legs up against him, the hand other perpetually pulling them closer together. 

It sounded as if the person below was trying to make a song, letting it go on and off in a rhythmically irritating pattern. 

Groaning, Luka rested his head against the wall beside Adrien’s head. “Who’s dumb ass idea was it to have someone over today?” 

Adrien chuckled as he started to lower his leg. Applying one last kiss to Luka’s cheek, he whispered into his ear. “That would be yours.” 

Luka clutched below Adrien’s hamstring, effectively halting Adrien’s attempt to lower his leg. Unprepared to separate from him yet, he led both of Adrien’s legs around him. Holding his Prettyboy like a koala, Luka waddled over to the intercom system. “Who is it?” 

“Hey Lucy!” A female voice responded in a friendly pitch. 

“Lucy?” Adrien lifted his brow towards Luka. “Well isn’t that a fun nickname?” 

Sighing, Luka dropped his hold on Adrien before pressing the buzzer again. “I’ll be down in a minute!” 

He released the buzzer and stared at the cursed machine. “Sorry, I forgot about this appointment.” 

“No, no I get it, your life doesn’t stop because I come back! You had to… keep going…” Adrien pensively nodded, all too aware of the fact that Luka hadn’t given the name of who he was supposed to go for an ‘appointment’ with. 

“Hurry up, Lucy!” Shouted the intercom. 

“Hurry up, Lucy.” Adrien’s tone was flat as he walked back into the kitchen. 

“Can’t you just reschedule? You already have gotten so many this month.” Sass loudly inquired as Luka pulled on his shoes. Luka let out another deep exhale, knowing that the exact identity of the person downstairs was just revealed. 

“Don’t worry Sass, I’ve already stopped him enough from being able to live a normal life.” Adrien started setting the coffee machine for another cup. 

“Adrien, I-,”

“Luucccyyy!” The voice squealed. 

Luka jammed on the intercom button. “Can you wait a fucking minute?”

Turning back to Adrien, he tried again. “Adr-,”

“Sorry,” the voice whispered. 

Luka drooped in defeated frustration. Bending down to slip on his shoes he tried to speak once again. “I’ll just tell her that I can’t do it today.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll call Chloe, she’s the only other person who visited me, so I’m sure she’d be happy to know that I’m back.” Adrien stared into the coffee machine as he spoke. 

Luka, with one shoe still untied, sprinted over to Adrien. Grabbing at his waist, he pushed Adrien against the fridge, kissing his face repeatedly. “ I’m happy you're back.” 

Desperately wanting to believe him, Adrien gripped the back of Luka’s hair and pushed their foreheads together. Through clenched teeth he told Luka, “I love you.” 

The reality of the return of Adrien still continued to claw at Luka, as if it couldn’t be true. Luka didn’t fully understand why he was crying, but he let his tears fall anyway. They slid off his lips as he responded to Adrien, “I love you too.” 

Luka rested his cheeks against Adrien’s, wanting to feel each of his Prettyboy’s breaths. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.” 

The elevator demandingly dinged for Luka. With an off balanced gait, Luka skittered to the door. Adrien waved by the grand doors as Luka bent over to tie his second shoe on the floor of the elevator. Once the elevator started to lower, Adrien firmly shut the hefty grand doors. 

“Do we haave to see Chloe? I thought we would do something that’s actually fun, like restocking the camembert?” Plagg whined while waving side to side behind Adrien. 

“Don’t worry, I have different plans, Plagg.” Adrien flatly responded as he tore the intercom out of the wall. 

Author's Note:

**The symptom: Luka’s Hallucinations Originally, I discussed how he didn’t want to touch him because he’d ‘disappear like before’, I decided not to do this because I didn’t want to increase the assumption of prolonged hallucinations that just go away. So, why it’s in here: it highlights how difficult things were getting for Luka and how much he missed Adrien, as well as a personification of his guilt. Why I consider it realistic to not return: Up until this point, I have hinted at Luka’s mental health. What I’ve actually done here is put a lot of my own symptoms from Borderline Personality Disorder. I’ve briefly spoken to doctors about entire months where I suffer from specific hallucinations - but they often fade and only tend to ‘show their face’ when I’m going through a really difficult time and have stretched myself too thin. For this reason it has just been associated (in my case, at least) as an occasional, incredibly frustrating, symptom. We also see the difficulty in separating reality and ‘dreamland’ (far more common symptom - but always gets a shit ton worse for me when hallucinations come to life)

-

Okay, regular note time.

I truly love Plagg. And I love the joking about colouring - but in all reality - THIS CAN REALLY HELP. It is a mindfulness technique, if you’re stressed, do some colouring. Or sudoku. We are teasing here because of Adrien’s attitude to the hospital and the relationship they have together. Please, for the love of all that is holy, do whatever the hell works for you and don’t let anyone put you down for it.

The talking about what the hospital. There are mixed reactions from people in the hospital. It is not meant to scare you. If you need help, or are feeling suicidal, GO TO THE HOSPITAL. The issue with Adrien is that they weren’t appropriately changing the type of care for his needs. They were worried about his state so they kept him in, even though out-patient would have been the better option for him. Everyone has different health needs. Make sure that you speak with your doctor about what you need. But not through fighting them. That never works. Basically - he kept disassociating from trauma induced panic, and they were not properly understanding that, BECAUSE ADRIEN WASNT PROPERLY SPEAKING TO HIS PSYCHOLOGIST - TELL THEM YOUR PROBLEMS. BE HONEST.

Also - if you are ever hospitalized and don’t like your psychiatrist and feel like they aren’t approaching your therapy seriously or in a way that works for you request a change in psychiatrist

The quote at the top was for various reasons. I’ll share two. One: posting a chapter and realizing that there were a few lines that had detrimental effects on the pre-planned course of the story (a few chapters back). Two: everyone in the situation made their moves thinking it was the best possible one at the time, but they started realizing maybe that wasn’t the case…

Okay! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! It didn’t ‘move’ a lot, but a lot happened! With the change, I’m still debating where the best part split is, but I will label it as it comes.

Thank you again for reading!

Until next time!!

Disclaimer * The characters and original plot were written and created by Thomas Astruc. This writing is merely an interpretation in a sad gay type of way.

[bakugosbratx]

Hi names Faith, She/her.

I saw you write for Hawks, which is wonderful cause I adore him.

So I have a request, it's kinda angsty which if you don't want to write it that's cool.

But what if him and his girlfriend, who has a similar quirk to his, she has wings too, are fighting along side each other and she gets seriously injured, and her wings are severly broken, like they will take months to heal properly.

This leads her into a dark emotional state cause she feels trapped when she can't fly, like a bird in a cage with clipped wings.

How would Hawks react or help her?

Sorry it's so long.

SFW Three Feathers— Keigo Tamaki x Angst Fem! Reader

Warning: Angst, cursing, medical talk, broken wings, depression, sadness, fluff etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience and request. No worries love! I write just about anything tbh. I hope this is what you are looking for.

Y/H/N- Your Hero Name

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @quietlegends @lanarist @milkthistletea

Keigo came home late again that night. Not that you really noticed as you sit in your own agony. Days felt long regardless if Keigo was home on time or not. He is only ultimately late because of you.

That day keeps replaying in your head. The league of villains strike again and Keigo told you to be careful, but your own strong will gets in the way. You are losing feathers at a rapid pace, a pace that could be damaging if you don’t stop. You couldn’t stop, though. Pedestrians lives were on the line.

“Y/H/N,” Hawks, your boyfriend and boss, shouts from the air while you stand on the rooftop, “you need to stop. Now.”

“No!” You protested with a glare. Screams filled the streets and you are about to do the only logical thing you could think of: jump.

Before you could, a strong pair of hands grabbed onto your arm. You dared to meet your boyfriend’s golden orbs. He is giving you the sternest of looks. If you had much feathers left, they would be gone by now from the coldness.

“Do you have a death wish?” Keigo snapped.

“No,” you state, “I am doing my job.”

“Well, you can’t do your job if you kill yourself in the process, chickadee.”

You take your arm out of his grip, his words going in one ear and out the other. One of the many things he loved and despised about you was your strong will to save others.

The wind began to pick up. Another one of your beautiful feathers ride the waves of the breeze. The air was stronger than normal thanks to one of the villains quirk. It is making it quite dangerous to fly. Hence why a lot of your feathers are gone.

“Well, I have to try.”

“Y/N, don’t do this or I will intervene.” Keigo warned. A warning you refused to oblige by.

You climbed to the edge of the roof, a determined look on your face. Fluttering what is left of your feathers, you take off, faster than Keigo could grab onto you.

“Y/H/N, NO!” Keigo shouts, doing his best to follow you, but it’s too late. What is left of your wings danced amongst the wind as you fall down onto the pesky villain below. Keigo is sure to land shortly after, checking to see if you are alright.

“Baby bird, I’m home. I brought dinner.” Keigo calls as he walks to your shared bedroom. His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You did not even notice you have been crying from reliving the memories.

Sadness filled Keigo while he witnesses a familiar sight. Seeing you like this pains him deep inside. That day is a never ending loop on his mind just like it is for yours. He would never tell you, but he blames himself for what happened. He should have stopped you from jumping, he should have been a few seconds faster, he should have saved you.

“Oh, chickadee.” Keigo sighed, placing the KFC on the nightstand beside you to comfort you. You sobbed into the crook of his neck, envying the fact his feathers restored way quicker than yours. Not that you wish pain on your boyfriend, but it is in the back of your tired mind.

Keigo held you until your sobs turned into snivels. Pulling away, he analyzed your wings. It’s been a month since the incident happened. Some feathers would come in just to fall to the floor shortly after. The excitement that filled your eyes would soon fade to emptiness. Keigo did not even tell you if you had fathers anymore and you didn’t even dare to ask.

Keigo forced you to eat — as usual — to keep your nutrition back. “It will help your wings heal faster if you stay well nourished.” Keigo reminded you like always, chomping on a drumstick.

“Easy for you to say. You have your wings.” You mumbled, not taking a single bite of your chicken. Keigo paused, your comment not going unheard like you wished it would.

“You will get yours back, too. Don’t you worry, pebble.”

“And what if I am worried?” You argued, tears brimming your irises.

“And you think I’m not?” Keigo shot back with a raised eyebrow. “I want you to be able to fly, chickadee. This is what we are made to do. I miss having you alongside me, but you will be back. I have faith.”

“I’m happy one of us does.” You whimpered, tears escaping your eyes before you could stop them.

Keigo finished his chicken before speaking again. He takes your hand, intertwining your fingers as he leads you to the master bathroom. Turning on the light, he forced you to look at yourself. Something you haven’t done in awhile.

You looked a mess. You have not been taking care of yourself like you should have due to your depression. It was a struggle to even get you to shower. You could not bare the thought of seeing your wings. They looked naked.

Baby feathers grew in place where big, beautiful ones used to be. You should be happy at the progress, but you only felt worse about yourself. Keigo, who is fixing your hair as he stands behind you, grinned from ear-to-ear.

“I don’t know what you’re doing Keigo, but this isn’t making me feel better about myself.” You sighed, meeting his gaze through the giant mirror.

“Turn around.” He instructed. Suspicious of his methods, you do it anyways. By the time you faced him, he was holding up a hand-held mirror so you could see the back of your wings with the other mirror’s reflection. You let out a gasp.

Three beautiful feathers have came in. They were even prettier than ones that have grown and wilted away before. They were just like your original ones. So strong and healthy.

“Keigo, are these—“

“They are permanent. I’ve been keeping my eye on them since they came in.” Keigo explained, putting the hand held mirror down so he can look down at you with a genuine smile.

You automatically go in for a kiss, something you have not done in awhile. You both desperately missed each other though you both laid in the same bed. This accident took a toll on not only you, but your relationship and for once in a single month, you both have hope.

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[takuyakistall]

romeo!

Chapter 1

Synopsis: Ace Trappola from the Trappola Kingdom, there was no doubt that he was a great man that was destined to achieve glory in a few years' time. But, there was one tiny problem. Being a prince from his own country meant that he needed to marry a lady from a prominent household. With much reluctance, he ended up choosing a princess from a neighbouring country—only to find out that the Prince of the Spade Kingdom has his eyes set on her as well. Is this... Competition?

Tags: Fem!Reader, Royalty AU, mentions of death, kidnapping, anything else you would find in a romance manhwa

Note: This piece is purely self indulgent and I plan on writing more for it! But I decided to share the first chapter here. There's no action yet so this is just some build-up.

Ace Trappola was never one to abide by the silly little rules of etiquette, he always thought that they were too nitpicky and stiff ever since he was a little boy. He thought that it was useless to keep up appearances for the sake of his reputation—until he experienced firsthand how cruel high society could be to a mere child who had made a single mistake. Of course, they would never dare to utter a single word in fear that their tongues would be cut off by his Highness, the king. But he would never ever forget the cold gazes that laid upon him as soon as he turned his back.

Which is why he donned a mask. He wore it all day and night as a child, hoping that it would be indestructible as he grew up but that brought him nothing but more of the empty and hollow feeling he hated. Despite already being so well-mannered, so educated, and so charming—he was nothing more than the second prince of the country who always seemed to be overshadowed by his older brother, the first prince. He was the definition of Ace's "perfect".

"Hey uncle," little Ace referred to his butler as such as he closed the storybook he was reading. A spark of curiosity sparkling in his eyes as he continued, "how do I become as amazing as my big brother?"

A childlike innocence could easily be tainted by those with such intentions—the old butler could easily plant the wrong ideas in his head and nurture the seeds of jealousy he planted within him. He stared at him for a second before letting out a sigh, strengthening his resolve when he saw Ace's eyes full of wonder.

"His Highness does not have to do anything, you are already a wonderful child just like your brother."

"Really!?"

"Of course, I wouldn't dare lie to you. If you continue to stay on the right path, I have no doubt that you will be as great as your brother in the future." He patted Ace's head, relieved that the second prince seemed to be satisfied with the answer.

"Yeah... I will!" He declared, staring right back at his butler with an uncontrollably big grin taking over his face.

That was the last time he saw that butler.

The palace staff told him he died because of heart failure during his day off. This devastated poor little Ace Trappola greatly—demanding to be allowed to attend his funeral but was stopped by his father, saying that there was no need for someone like him to attend a servant's funeral. The hand-picked white lilies Ace took that day in hopes of paying his respects, withered inside his room as he cried his heart out.

The next day, they had already found a replacement for his butler. Someone who was far younger than his previous one and was definitely less warm—he went by the name "Rowen" and insisted that the young prince should call him that. At first, Ace put up a fight as he tried to resist everything Rowen tried to do—even if it was just a menial task such as him trying to tie Ace's necktie for him.

But, nonetheless, Ace was still a child and children, more often than not, don't know how to deal with grief. You could easily spot him crying in places he shouldn't be yet no one had the heart to tell him that, even more when Rowen asked the palace staff specifically to not approach the prince if they ever spot him like that and instead, call for him immediately.

Stuck inside the garden, Ace was barely trying to keep his sobs in as he rubbed his eyes with his sleeves.

"I miss uncle…" He cried out, perhaps getting a little bit tired of how colder the palace seemed to be towards him. A pair of footsteps suddenly approached him, Ace quickly stood up and patted away all the dirt from his clothes so it seemed like he didn't cry but his swollen eyes were a dead giveaway.

"Your Highness, I was looking for you."

"Oh, Rowen. It's you…" A dejected look took over his face, was he expecting his old butler to appear? He silently crushed his hopes as he raised a question for his new companion.

"Can I ask you a question…?"

"Of course."

"D-Do you think I can still be as amazing as my big brother?" A few seconds of silence passed by as Rowen crossed his arms.

"Forgive me for my bluntness. However, at this rate, you will never amount to what your brother will be in the future."

"E-Eh? But uncle said that—"

"Your 'uncle' was foolish, perhaps that was why he died." Rowen crouched down, his green irises staring right into Ace's eyes—there was something in his eyes that Ace couldn't put a finger on but one thing is for sure, he thought Rowen was scary during this very moment.

"What you need right now is power," Rowen pressed a finger against his lips. "And that's exactly what I can give you."

"Power? Don't I already have plenty of that, I'm a prince!"

"What you need," he pushed Ace back with his index finger, "is enough power to take the throne."

"But big brother is the only one who can take that!" Ace shouted, trying to overpower the nonsense he was hearing from his new butler.

"Heed my words and I can make it happen." Rowen's lips tugged up into a small smirk before delivering his final words.

"After all, you want to be as great as your brother, the first prince."

Ace felt confused. He clutched his chest as he thought about his words—he did want to be as great as his brother but he couldn't help but be a little wary of what Rowen might ask of him. Ace had to slap himself back to reality, there was no reason for him to think about this so seriously! There was no way he could take the throne for himself and why would he even want to do that…? Isn't he happy the way he is right now?

Ace stepped out from the garden with Rowen following him shortly behind. He stared at the castle building, the maids and butlers working about, and a few noble visitors roaming around.

That was when a little devil's voice started whispering in his ear.

Deuce Spade had been anything but happy upon growing up inside the Royal Palace. Being the sole crown prince of the Spade Kingdom, his life never consisted of flowers and rainbows contrary to what many think. If you asked young Deuce himself about his position, he would simply give you a blank stare before properly processing your question. Once he does, he’ll give you a half-hearted smile before answering with: “It’s a duty I must fulfill.”

He’d never been too fond of the fact that his life was already planned ahead of him the moment the royal palace discovered his existence in his mother’s womb. He would undergo proper education fitting for the crown prince, he would be assigned with tasks that were meant for the crown prince, and he would soon rise to the throne once his father was no longer able to rule.

Rather than inheriting the throne, he yearned for something else. Being the heir to the throne meant that there was almost nothing he couldn’t obtain but he found himself dumbfounded when his elders aggressively denied him of his desire for the first time.

His desire to become a knight.

Deuce was said to be excellent with the art of the sword, easily surpassing other kids his age. But that was not the reason why Deuce had the desire to become a knight.

One of the first things they taught Deuce was the fact that he was in a dangerous position and that there might be cases wherein other people might make an attempt on his life. He thought that it was ridiculous because, after all, who would dare try to kill the crown prince? It would be treason!

And because of that, he was too lax.

One night, the prince got kidnapped and threw the whole palace in an uproar. Little Deuce could barely open his eyes when he tried assessing his surroundings, his eyes were blurry and he couldn’t move a muscle as no voice came out from his mouth. He was beyond terrified, he thought he was going to die that night. He pleaded inside his head, begging someone to come and find him. But for days, he was yet to be found.

He thought that perhaps the Royal Palace had decided to give up on him as he lost hope himself, his eyes growing dull and duller. He had to endure the harsh treatment given to him during his abduction, the only thing keeping him sane was the single ray of hope that someone was going to rescue him.

Just as he felt as if the thread was about to snap, he saw a cloaked man barge into the place where he was held hostage with a sword in hand. Ruthlessly, he cut down the perpetrators without so much as a blink. Deuce could only stare at the scene unfolding in front of him weakly. ‘Am I… being saved?’

It took him every ounce of his strength to stay conscious. And even more when he forced himself to ask the mysterious cloaked man. He wasn’t wearing anything that could discern his homeland, Deuce couldn’t figure out where he came from. His face was covered by the hood of the cloak, he couldn’t see his features very well. Deuce was afraid that there would be no way of him figuring out his identity before he passes out, so he forced a voice out of his throat.

“Who… are you?” His voice was hoarse. The man stayed silent, sheathing his sword before walking closer to the prince and unlocking the rope binding his hands together. Deuce could slowly feel himself losing consciousness but just before he could pass out, the man finally answered his question.

“...A knight.” He muttered.

The next time Deuce opened his eyes, he was no longer in a dark place but instead, in an unfamiliar yet extravagant room. He could tell that it was not the palace in his kingdom, he felt himself panic once again as he remembered the past events. When he heard a knock on his door, Deuce flinched as he hesitantly told them to come in.

A small girl around Deuce’s age entered the room with a plushie in her arms. He told himself to calm down upon seeing her, reassuring himself that the probability of this girl doing the same thing as the ones who kidnapped him were very low.

“Are you feeling better now, Your Highness?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. Deuce clutched his arm.

“Better than before… at least. But before that, who are you?” It was only normal for Deuce to become extremely wary considering what he just went through. The young girl understood that and merely gave him a small grin.

She introduced herself as the first princess of the kingdom he was residing in. Deuce was shocked, it wasn’t his own kingdom that found him but another! Did that mean that all this time he was in a foreign country? Was that the reason why no one had found him for days? Countless questions were swirling inside his head.

The princess was the only one who was let into his room, seeing as how Deuce was more comfortable seeing someone around his own age rather than adults. She was as clumsy as she was kind, Deuce found himself being comforted by her even if most of their meetings consisted of him being gloomy.

A few days later, an envoy was sent to Deuce’s kingdom to inform them that he was safe in their palace. During that period of time, Deuce was cooped up inside his room—thinking about a lot of stuff and refused to come out for hours. When it was time for him to go, he visited the princess one last time.

“Is it possible for me to visit you in the future?” Gratitude? Attraction? Personal interest? The reason behind his words was blurred.

When he returned home, he almost gave the whole Royal Court a heart attack when he declared that he wanted to become a knight. Nobody could tell what Deuce was thinking after he was abducted, it was as if he turned into an entirely different person. But he was thoroughly denied of his desire to become a knight, in which he was highly disappointed in. But, somehow, he found a way to secretly train without anyone finding out.

Using the princess as the shield, he went in and out of your kingdom to train under the pretense of meeting her. But she was more than happy to assist him as they became partners in crime. Deuce couldn’t forget the mysterious knight that saved him and so he idolized him ever since, saying how he wanted to be someone who protected people.

“Princess!” He called out, waving his hand as he grinned at her. This was the start of their relationship with each other. Only time can tell if this was to end happily ever after or otherwise.

[pokeasleepingsmaug]

Bones in the Ocean, Part 2

TW: knife play, blood, unhealthy relationship, a touch of suicidal ideation.

AO3

Part 1

Tagging: @whenimaunicorn @youbloodymadgenius @punkrocknpearls @leilabeaux @oddsnendsfanfics

You are drenched, your half-unbraided hair clinging to your neck from the pounding rain, seawater sloshing in your boots and soaking your trousers as you bail bucket after bucket from the boat’s belly. Ivar is on the other side manning his own bucket, ignoring you, and the anger rolls off him as the clouds recede and the waves calm. The soaked sails are reefed and silent in the welcome stillness, and all would be calm if you weren’t trembling with exhaustion and dreading Ivar’s inevitable tantrum.

The two of you bail in silence, the motions mechanical as the water level in the boat slowly lowers with your work. It’s a wonder the ship is still floating, since it must be carrying half the ocean. You pause to wipe sweat from your brow, but the instant your arms falter, Ivar turns and lunges at you in one swift motion. A primal howl escapes his gaping mouth, and you barely have the strength left to meet his assault. He knocks you to your back with a splash, and he has the tip of a dagger digging into the notch of your collarbone before you can respond.

“How dare you,” Ivar breathes against your cheek, blue eyes cold and hard as ice. “How dare you not let the gods take us in that storm.”

Your palm rings against his cheek, your fingers stinging from the impact. “We will not be worthy of their halls if we do not fight for it. They can’t be tricked.”

"We are not going to their halls,” he snarls, the dagger piercing your skin. “We are going for Rán's fishing net.” You swat the dagger away, and you’re distantly aware of a splash as Ivar smears the drop of blood up your neck with the callused pad of his thumb. Goosebumps rise at every place his skin meets yours.

"Ràn doesn't want you! That's why she didn't take you the first time."

You know you’re right when he sneers and forces his fingers between your lips. He’s focusing intently on your mouth, pulling your lips back to bare your teeth to him. "Maybe she doesn't, but the crew my father and I sailed with to England does. I hear them call me in the wind and waves, see them in my dreams." His mouth twists, bright eyes cold and far away, as he taps your teeth.

You did not fight with Ivar then, but everyone knows the story--it was the very beginning of his reputation, the very first time people began speaking his name in something close to awe. You clench your jaw, the cold saltwater sloshing around you awakening some anger from deep within you, some fury at this fool’s errand, some twisted envy that you were not beside him on that doomed ship. “Open,” Ivar demands, threat implicit as he taps at your teeth, “or I will make you.”

You resist anyway, because what use will your teeth be when this madman drags you into the sea with him? He tilts his head in that way he has, rolling his jaw as he contemplates you stretched out beneath him in the wet belly of the storm-battered boat. You do not doubt he will knock your teeth into the back of your throat, carve the flesh from your lips simply to taste your blood, and in some way, you want that. But even more, you want to speak to the hurt you know is hiding behind his eyes, so you do, the only way you know how. The only way he'll understand. The two of you never did speak in a language understood by anyone else. You bare your teeth--a challenge, maybe a promise. In the moment, even you aren’t sure.

He rips the dagger from the sheath at your belt and presses the point just into the center of your lower lip, and it takes all your self-control not to flinch and open for him. Iron and salt sting your tongue, sickly sweet, as your own blood drips into your mouth, but you only swallow it down and try not to dwell on the taste. Every part of you wants to give in to him, but you know if you don't resist enough, he'll only make it worse. He'll know you're pitying him.

He leans down closer, dagger slipping lightly to the corner of your mouth, his breath warm against your damp skin, ruffling the hair sticking to your cheek. "Please, Y/N," he asks, barely a whisper. His eyes are right above you, bright and blue enough to break your heart, deep enough to drown in, an ocean in their own right. .

You open your mouth.

A gob of spit lands square on your tongue, an unexpected shock straight to your core. Ivar laughs as you squeal, your hands reaching for the graceful column of his throat. You're throbbing deep in your center, wanting him so much you're panting and shameless as you grind yourself against him.

"I can't believe that worked,” Ivar muses, running his fingers through your hair. He tightens his grip without warning and tugs, tilting your head back, darting down to sink his bruising teeth into your tender neck. “Sure you don't want to serve an easier master, Y/N? A kind one perhaps?" He thrusts himself roughly against you, bracing on his hands, tongue skimming your jawline, the shell of your ear, the bridge of your nose. He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once.

His pulse is racing beneath your fingers as they rest on his neck, but from your position on the floor of the boat, you have no leverage to choke him properly. "No other master would be worth giving myself to the sea for, so why would I serve another?" Your hands slide down his neck to his chest, enjoying the way he tenses and trembles beneath your onslaught. You don't bother taking off his shirt and just tug his trousers down as soon as you reach them.

You're pleased to see he's ready for you, and the sight of him straining toward you makes you wish you’d gotten your own pants off first. That isn’t a concern for much longer. Ivar yanks them down just enough that he can part your legs. He doesn’t bother with checking you, trusting that you’re ready for him, and instead lines his blunt head up to your opening and sheathes himself in you all in one swift motion. The stretch of him filling you is nearly enough to push you beyond the edge already, but you grind your hips against him and revel in his ragged gasp.

“Filthy wanton thing,” he croaks, voice hoarse, and withdraws only to slam into you again. You cry out and he grins crookedly as he sets a punishing pace. Heat pools low in your belly a half dozen thrusts later, your toes curling against the soles of your boots as you begin to clench around him. He pauses when he feels you tighten, and you nearly swallow your pride to beg him to continue.

He pulls out, but doesn’t tuck himself back into your trousers. He only laughs when you ram your first into the side of the boat, then pulls your bleeding knuckles to his lips and kisses them. His eyes are black and wild as he smirks up at you over the back of your hand. “I never said I was done with you, Y/N. Now finish bailing out the boat.”

You stare at him blankly, and he waves his hand imperiously toward your bucket. He only laughs and dodges when you fling it toward his stupid, insufferable face.

[that-little-zebunny]

Skin to Skin (First Valentine's day)

Pairing: Loki x Avenger!Reader

Warning: Fluffiness for our sweet cookie.

WC: 921

Summary: You're new to the team and end up messing it up with the God of mischief on your first day in. Knowing his reputation you're up for a fun time in the compound.

Note: Waah and we're finally done. Omg!!! I really hope you liked this Series everyone and that you've enjoyed it as much as I did writing them. 💜 It was a very Lovely HBC Week of Love with @the-th-horniest-book-club , but always remember that everyday is a day to love one another. Be kind and be safe.

Series Masterlist

You're like a ghost floating in the abyss. Floating to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe what Loki had told you and now it's all what you can think of. You're in the compound's gym trying to tire out your body in hopes it'll make your mind quiet too.

Somewhere in your blood is not from here? Is that why you suddenly had this power? But why doesn't your Mom have it? Why you? Did your grandma know? Granny! You've been curious about how well she was able to handle your ability when she took you in. Stopping your punches you took your towel wiping the sweat from your face and neck you went up to your room to change.

You tried to open your door but it wouldn't budge. Frowning you tried it again but it didn't work.

"What the heck?" You thought. "Friday, can you please unlock my door?" You asked the AI.

"My apologies Ms. Y/L/N, I was tasked to not let you." Friday's smooth voice came and it made you frown deeper.

"B-but this is my room…" you said defeatedly as you stare at the closed door.

You've stood in front of your own bedroom door for over a minute when you heard it. A click and a little later two firm hands went to cover your eyes.

"Loki, love? Did you lock me out of my own room?" You asked him as you felt him kiss your cheeks that's not covered by his huge hands.

"I may have done that." He said slowly, guiding you to walk slowly. "I had the feeling you have forgotten what day today is so I've decided to surprise you." He said. Hearing your door shut as you got inside-you think.

"A surprise hmm…" you said thinking of a way to know what he is planning but Loki knows you too well.

"Oh do not dare to connect to me to know and please you have beautiful eyes but keep them close. I'm gonna let go of you now keep them closed till I say so." You pouted hearing him say that. Yep knows you too well. You've been practicing since you learned that there's a possibility that you can't just feel people's emotions but can also have access to their own mind.

"No yet my sweet darling cookies. You're so stubborn." You heard him say and you giggled.

Loki tried his best to make the floor cushion thing that Y/N had made everytime you both are having your movie night but this time he added things to make this day's mood. She's been worried since he broke the news to you and he wanted to help take those worries away even with a simple midgardian celebration of Love.

Convincing himself that he did everything perfectly he walked behind his beautiful lover.

"You may open your lovely eyes now my love." He said and as you slowly opened your eyes a small gasp left your lips.

"Oh...Loki...this is-" you turned around cupping his face and tiptoed to reach his lips. She opened her mouth to savour his taste and Loki did the same. Pouring all the love he felt for her making sure she feels them. You let go first to look at what he did again. "This is perfect…" you said as you examine your room. He made a pillow port on the floor with tons of rose petals. He also put a lot of roses on vases on different corners of your room. There are some heart banners and a strawberry coated cake in the middle and a bottle of wine. In your bed is a huge teddy bear holding a cookie with the words World Sweetest Cookie engraved in the middle. You felt your eyes water as you looked back up at him.

"Please don't cry sweetness. I hate seeing you cry." He said, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"These are happy tears." You sobbed as you admired him. He's wearing a black suit and his hair is neatly combed.

"I'm not even dressed properly and I'm in my own bedroom. This is perfect, Loki thank you so much." You said remembering you're Still wearing your sweat covered workout clothes.

"That won't be a problem." He said winking at you as he flicked his hand, a green mist went around you and suddenly you're wearing a gorgeous red dress complimenting the mood of the room.

He guided you towards the middle of his pillow port and helped you sit down. He then went behind you and sat there. His body enclosing yours. "I know things have been hard for you but I want you to know that i will be here every step of the way. I will help you and protect you for whatever will come. Happy Valentine's my sweet sweet cookies. I love you so much thank you for making me feel complete for the first time in all the thousand of years alive." Loki said, his hands smoothly caressing your arms making you feel the comfort and contentment he felt.

And suddenly nothing matters and you know you can face anything life throws at you as long as you have him beside you.

"I love you too Loki. Thank you for a lovely first Valentine's experience." You said turning a little to guide his face down to meet your waiting lips kissing him and making sure he also feels how thankful you are and how much you love him.

Tag list

Skin to skin: @delightfulheartdream @victias @kaogasm @marvelgirl7 @alexakeyloveloki @newdaynewyearnewlife @multifandomlife22 @the-lake-is-calling

Tom Hiddleston and Characters

@jewels2876 @jobean12-blog @CurlyRed2020

[fly-like-a-phoenix]

House of Lust (part 5)

Abbé de Coulmier x reader.

Summary: Five years has passed since the events of Quills. The Abbé de Coulmier is released of prision by a misterious event. And he will know again those feelings he never thought will meet again: love... and lust.

Warnings: spoilers from Quills, some mentions of sex, things will go a little wild from here...

"Excuse me, madmoiselle." François said. "But I don't really understand anything. My parents said you will---"

"Oh, yeah. Your parents, yeah." Odelle interrupted him. "They... They came here two weeks ago, maybe more, before leaving to Spain. Are you hungry, Abbé?"

His stomach was grunting. He was thirsty too. He hadn't drink anything since the morning. But he needed some answers from those women wearing their nightgowns.

"Who are you two? Why am I here?" He said, his voice deeper than never.

"Come with us. You too, Y/N." Josephine said. But you stepped in front of François, covering him from your sisters view.

"He asked you two questions. Answer him, Odelle." You said. Knowing your sisters, you will try to protect him to all costs.

"My name is Odelle, and she's my sister Josephine. And it seems you already know Y/N, the little one. You knew us all, Abbé. But let me explain you better in the dinning room."

François and you shared a look. You nodded with your head, walking right next to him while he zipped his shirt. You weren't going to let him alone with them.

François saw the large hallways, admiring them. The walls were full of paintings, but there were not enough lights to see them properly. Some red courtains covered the windows, not letting the moon light enter the house.

And then you all arrived to the giant dinning room. A large table was in the middle, at least thirty chairs surrounding it. Josephine moved her hand to him, inviting him to sit.

"Y/N, can you bring him some food?" Odelle said, siting next to him. "As I was saying, we knew you from before. The three of us went to that theatre play in Charenton five years ago. We thought we were seeing The Happy Shoemaker, but actually you allowed the presentation of the Marquis de Sade play.

"I didn't allowed it. I didn't knew the inmates prepared another play to mock about doctor Roger-Collard and his young wife. I didn't---"

"Shh, shh. Whatever you say, Abbé. But let me finish. That play, those moments, seeing everyone enjoying it, and some quotes said from the actors... That changed us completely."

"It changed you both, Odelle." You said, bringing a plate with potatoes, a piece of meat and bread, letting it in front of François. "Don't talk for me, please. I was just sixteen years old, and I didn't care so much about---"

"Let me finish, then, if you think you didn't change too."

The silence crowned the large room for a few seconds. You looked at your sister with hate. You did hate her, actually. Because of many things.

"As I was saying before my sister interrupted me," said, as she didn't do it before with you and him. "That Marquis' play changed us. We started to read more of his work, you know? More of those hundreds of stories he had to tell. And then, we started to believe different, to feel the world and see it with other eyes. Seeing that we're just here to enjoy the carnal pleasures."

François looked at you, but you were with a hand in your face, trying not to see him or your sisters and not showing the shame you were feeling. Josephine continued what Odelle was saying.

"It's like a creed, Abbé. A creed based on lust, greed and violence. And we believe in it, as many other friends of ours do. You are pale, Abbé. Are you okay? Is the food alright?"

François was breathing heavier. He remembered that horrendous play very well. The Marquis, with Madeline's help, used the inmates to perfom those blaspheming performances that made Roger-Collard angry with him.

"This is the House of Lust in France, Abbé. Many people come here to satiate their thirst for sex and perversion. We help them to do it. And we enjoy it a lot too, just as the Marquis used to say."

"You're damn crazy, all of you!" He said, getting what Josephine just told him.

"Abbé, I'm not part of---"

"Shut up, Y/N." Odelle interrupted you again. "What were you saying, Abbé?"

"Please, stop calling me Abbé. I don't have that charge anymore. What am I doing here, for Christ sake?"

Josephine left her chair, and went to stand just behind François, letting her hands in his shoulders. Odelle touched his hand with her fingers slowly, her nails scratching the skin, hurting him a little.

"Your parents asked us to help you, that's true." Odelle said. "But they didn't know about our... activities this month. And you, as a man who took the vows, have never experienced things like we do. You're still innocent and pure, even if your body doesn't feel like that. And you got free and arrived the Villa just at the perfect moment to discover those feelings.

"What the hell are you talking about? I just wanted a place to sleep and eat something. I think I'm going to Paris again..." He responded, trying to get up. But Josephine stopped him, sitting him again.

"Now, Abbé, are you going to be a good boy and accept we're helping you? or you are going to try to escape? It's not gonna be easy, tho. Guards are everywhere, and we're not letting a cute virgin guy like you to come to this house and let you go like that. He have to taste you, you know what I mean. Or we kill you right now and we say to your parents you were killed by a thief. You choose."

François looked at you again. This time, you were seeing him too. Not only shame in your face, but fear. You nodded again, convincing him not only to stay in there, accept and survive, but also that you were in the same situation, under their threat.

"Alright, mesdemoiselles. I see I don't have other option. What do I have to do?"

"For now, just go to sleep. You arrived late, and every room in the Villa is full of our guests. We don't have other, maybe the dungeon. But I think Y/N doesn't mind he can sleep in her room. Do you, Y/N?"

You saw the young man with pity. What a poor lad! Just getting out of his unjust imprisonment to get beaten and now under the power of those mad women that your sisters were.

"It's okay." You answered, knowing that in your bedroom, at least, he will be safe for some hours. And that you both could plan a way to escape.

"Amazing! But will you let her fuck him, Odelle?" Josephine said, as if he was just a toy. "We should take care of that first."

"And we will, sister. We will. Tomorrow we will see how we start him in this. They can do whatever they want. But as I see it, she's too shy even to touch herself, so I don't think she will do nothing. And he... well, he can't do nothing without our permission. So don't you dare to do nothing to our little sister, Abbé. You're still a priest to her, until she doesn't respect those vows. She never wanted to be part of our creed, but she's our sister, and we love her. Are we clear?"

François couldn't believe all that was happening. How could people be so sick? You see them on the streets, walking, shopping, being arrogant assholes. And then, you learn how depraved they are, as Roger-Collard and Madeline herself.

"What will happen tomorrow?" Said he, scared.

"It's a surprise, my dear." Josephine responded. "For now, finish you dinner, go and sleep. Recover from that beaten you took. And wait for us. Tomorrow you will get a bath and new clothes."

Josephine squeezed his shoulders, and left with Odelle, both talking low and laughing while they went to their bedrooms.

François kept his eyes in the plate, looking at the meal in shock. What did he got into? He just needed some help his parents promised. What a fuckminded friends they got!

You served him some wine, and gave it to him. He drank it quickly, feeling the sweet savour going through his throat, waiting for you to say something.

"I'm sorry, François. I'm truly sorry. I don't even know if your parents really came here and talked with these two harpies. Maybe that isn't even true. But I should have taken you out of here as soon as I recognized you."

François looked at you in awe. He couldn't believe you were so different to them. He took your hand with care, and smiled even if he didn't knew what your sisters will do to him the day after.

"Is other people in here?" He asked.

"Around seventy guests of the famous House of Lust my sisters run. God damn it, I can't believe this is not an awful dream. They've being doing this since the last five years. And it's so wicked that I can't believe is real. I fear all them."

"Well, I can't believe you're so different to them. It's true you're not part of this madness." Said he, smiling again with pain in his eyes. "So you think we can't get through this? I'll help you escape if you help me."

Your prayers were answered! This young man you felt attracted to five years ago was going to got through many things these days, but you both will go out that Villa, that was for sure.

He finished dinner in silence, you looking at him, admiring his factions and manners. He was in prison a lot of time, but he was still a gentleman.

He decided to sleep in the divan you cured his face before. He didn't want to disturb you. But he was the most normal man in that house at the moment.

You regretted talking about him to your sisters that time after the play five years ago. Maybe him being in there was all your fault.

"That priest is really gorgeous." You said to them when you were at the carriage, leaving Charenton. "I wish he hadn't taken the vows. Maybe we could know each other and have been friends."

Your sisters seemed to take this seriously, because when they knew he could get out of the asylum, they took advantage of it.

And now, there he was, a prisoner again, like you were those last years, of your own family. Hopefully, his mind would not get so dirty those days as his body covered of mud when he was out the Villa a few hours ago.

Tagging: @darknessisafriend @five-miles-over @yukis-writing @thegirlwho @jokerflecker @missrockabilly99 @luperugorria99 @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @skaraboo @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @beautifulyoungprospect @sophiefleck @the-queen-of-things @jokerphoenix @ajokerfangirl

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