#and then nearly gets himself killed and they rescue him
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Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 1
Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader
Summary: Tamlin has sent Feyre away. Emotions follow
Warnings: more angst. Allusions to Under the Mountain happenings, but not in much detail
Word Count: 1.2k
Prologue
You rush into the manor, hoping that you can get far enough away before the emotion churning in your chest consumes you. You couldn’t be the supportive sister you supposed Tamlin wanted you to be right now, weren’t sure you thought it was what he deserved. After all, it was his fault that the human he loved was leaving. It was his fault that you were all doomed to be taken Under the Mountain. It was his fault that Andras’ death was now for nothing. So no, you decide, he does not deserve your pity.
You manage to stumble your way into your bedroom, tears stinging in your eyes, burning your throat. You yank a pillow off the bed, burying your face into it before you scream, letting the emotion overwhelm you. You are angry, so angry that you ignore the knocking on your door. How could Tamlin do this? Sacrifice everyone and everything for his human love. Does he know how much it stings? His betrayal? That his love was enough was enough to save her. But you, your love? That was not enough to save Andras. You fling yourself onto the bed. This is where you will stay until they come to drag you all down Under the Mountain, you don’t care anymore. There’s nothing left for you to care about.
You wander the hall, ignoring the chill that hasn’t left your bones the entire time down here, no matter what you did. You didn’t sleep, finding it nearly impossible to. It had only been a few nights spent under the mountain, but already what you had seen haunted you every time you closed your eyes. You think of what Andras had said that day in the forest, about wanting to save you. If only he could see how ruined you were now. Would he be as angry with your brother as you are? You suppose, the one relief is that he is not here with you. You would not wish him here in this place even now as loneliness echoes in your soul. You aren’t thinking about where your body is taking you, only stopping as you nearly collide with the male in front of you. Your sudden stop has you nearly tipping off balance, and he reaches a hand out, steadying you. You look up at him, your own eyes meeting his violet ones.
“You shouldn’t roam by yourself at night. It’s not safe.”
“Yes, well you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Rhysand?” you question, voice as icy as you feel.
He ignores the jab, directing you towards your room. “Allow me to escort you.”
You say nothing, following as he guides you. You say nothing as he directs you to the armchair and waves a hand, a fire springing to life in the hearth. You remain silent until he’s about to leave the room.
“Why did you leave me there?” He turns to you, eyes filled with confusion.
“The night you came to Spring and killed my father and brothers. I followed you out to the garden and begged you to either take me with you or kill me too. But you just left me there. Why?”
Your eyes meet his, filled with so much grief and pain, and he finds himself wondering what you went through before you found yourself down here. You stand, crossing to him, angry at the tears that sting your eyes.
“It would have been wrong.”
You choke out a bitter laugh. “And look at me now. I would have been better off.”
He’s not sure why he does it, but he brushes past your wards with ease, helping your troubled mind find unconsciousness, catching you as you crumple. He tucks you into bed, brushing hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear, bringing kinder memories to the front of your mind, helping you find pleasant dreams for once.
He tries to find you again the next few nights, uncertain of why he feels so suddenly drawn to you. But he remains unlucky, as if you're avoiding him as hard as he's trying to find you.
It’s shortly after that Feyre finds her way Under the Mountain to rescue Tamlin. You aren’t sure how you feel, but there's one thing you know for certain. You will do anything within your power to help her. To make Andras’ death mean something. You find her the night after, a spare blanket and food hidden underneath your cloak. You see him again as you make your way to the cells, eyes meeting his across the distance before hurrying away.
You enter the cell and take in the sight of the human woman in front of you, holding a finger to your lips as you cross over to her, kneeling at her side, healing her. You give her the food and the blanket. She tries apologizing for Andras once more, but you shush her, shaking your head.
“You are not the one I am angry with. You are not the one who needs to apologize. I can understand why you… did what you did.” She looks almost surprised. “I will help you however I can without interfering. I will help you beat her, for Andras.” She smiles and you find yourself smiling too, the movement feeling odd after so much time.
You rush to the cells, hoping you are not too late. You enter as Rhysand exits and Feyre looks at you.
“I tried to wait for you to come. You said you would come. But a human can die so quickly from that kind of thing and I-”
You interrupt her, dropping to your knees beside her, pulling her into a tight hug, choking back a sob. “I was just worried that I was too late and you were already dead. I don’t care what bargain you made with him. It saved your life, and when we get out of here, I will face it with you. You are too important Feyre.” She tells you of the bargain, and you smile. “You know, I have always wanted to see the Night Court.”
More time has passed and Feyre has beaten the trials. You watch in horror, unable to intervene, frozen to the spot, as Amarantha hurts Feyre, wishing you could fight for her. You glare at your brother, cursing him for not fighting for her. Why can’t he fight for her the way you already had? Why had he given up so easily? You gasp as Feyre answers the riddle and the mask falls from your face. You step forward as Amarantha snaps Feyre’s neck, wanting to do something, anything. You watch as finally, Tamlin does something, killing her, ripping her throat out. You sink to your knees, unable to help the relief that floods your veins along with the grief. Amarantha was dead and that meant that your husband’s death would finally mean something. That you had not lost everything for nothing.
You watch on as the High Lords all revive Feyre, bringing her back as a fae. You ignore the purple-eyed male staring at you and whatever it is you feel pulling you to him. There would be time to worry about that later, but for now, you find yourself at Feyre's other side, realizing that although you had lost so much, there were things you had gained too.
A/N: And there it is! Not feeling great about this one, but everytime I tried fixing it I found myself writing the next parts, so here it is! Requests are open, so feel free to send some in! I'd love to write some one shots too!
divider is by @tsunami-of-tears
taglist: @lilah-asteria @readingislife2006 @acourtofimagines @mistymoocow @irelanrose
#rhysand x reader#rhys x reader#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar x you#maasverse#imagine
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Okay, finished up season 1 of Chaos Theory. And as you might imagine, I have THOUGHTS!
Non-spoiler review: it's really good.
Spoiler review...
Damn.
Like, this was actually great. Sure, I clown on the Jurassic World movies for being shit and have done so for nearly a decade now, but if this is the sort of content that spins off from them, then by all means, keep making those shitty movies. Of course it's not perfect, there's things to nitpick, but that's true of just about everything.
Okay, lots to talk about, so let's go into things bit by bit. Starting with...
Brooklynn!
Yeah, of course she's not dead. Like, did anyone honestly think that there was the slightest possibility that they would actually kill off one of the campers like that? As soon as I heard "Brooklynn's dead," my thought was, "Lol, no she isn't. She'll be dramatically revealed to be still alive in the final scene." And wouldn't just know it!
Still, there is a lot to discuss with her. We all know that she isn't really working for Mantah Corp or the Broker (more on them later), and is probably doing her investigative journalist thing to try to bring down the dino black market thing from inside, and was prodding Daniel Kon for information, and all that jazz. I imagine that this will get expanded on in the next season. However, I didn't see her losing a hand coming. So, she didn't deliberately fake her death. I guess she barely got away after the Allosaur or maybe the raptors bit her hand off and Ronnie found her and rescued her, and now she's in hiding.
However, just because she's not dead doesn't mean that she didn't die. And by that I mean her friends (and I presume family) all genuinely believe that she really did die, and have had to deal with the grief and trauma and try to process it in their own ways.
And honestly, that's what I loved the most about this season, how frankly and maturely it tackles the topic of grief and trauma. It's clear that everyone was deeply affected by losing Brooklynn, and I love how seriously this show takes things.
Darius.
Starting with our man, Darius is very much not okay. Well, none of them are, but he's definitely taking the atoner route to dealing with his grief. He feels immense guilt for not being there for her and blames himself for her death, so he quits his job and throws himself into hunting down the Allosaur as a way of redemption. He doesn't talk to his family unless they actually manage to get him on the phone, he doesn't talk to the other campers, but he does call Brooklynn's cell phone on the regular just to hear her voice as a way of coping. Like, usually the leader-type main character is supposed to be the one with his shit together, so I love that the show allowed him to be shown in such a vulnerable state.
Ben
Goddamn, Big Ben is right. Talk about the shooting up like a fucking palm tree.
Anyway, it's fitting that the boy who was raised to fear everything would transfer fall deep into paranoia and conspiracy theories as his own way of coping. Like, sure, he overcame the fears he had at the start of Camp Cretaceous, but that sort of ingrained behavior doesn't go away. And sure, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that they aren't out to get you, and he is right, but the show also take time to show that it is still an unhealthy way of coping, with him jumping at shadows and being convinced that everyone is in on the conspiracy, even going so far as to suspect Sammy.
As for the girlfriend in Europe thing, this might be just a set-up for a joke where she get revealed as being real (maybe the ship will take them to her or something), but a lot of people are justifiably calling bullshit (notice that we never get any details about her?), and, like in the last show, suspecting that he's actually gay. And yeah, I definitely see it too, and wouldn't be surprised. That being said, part of me is actually kind of, sort of hoping that we get Ace Ben instead.
Look, as someone on the aro-spectrum (not exactly ace, but it is related) and has sarcastically made up girlfriends in the past just to get my family to get off of my back, it would be nice to have some more characters like that, though I do see how that would be harder to portray than someone who's gay.
Okay, moving on.
Kenji
It's funny that a character that I was actively hoping would get eaten when I first started Camp Cretaceous because of what an annoying douche he was has now evolved into my favorite. Hmmm, someone with father issues who struggles with resentment and feelings of betrayal. I wonder why I empathize?
It's obvious that despite breaking free from Daniel, Kenji still feels the need to prove himself to him, even in a negative way, hence the whole rock climbing business. And honestly, I don't blame him for being mad at Darius. And you know what? I'm so glad that the show made it so he was the one who broke up with Brooklynn and not the other way around. Teen dramas like this usually have one character who's the designated "wrong one" who has to learn the lesson over and over again, and given that he started off as an arrogant jerk who needed to be humbled, it would have been easy to lock him in that roll, but no, he was allowed to fully mature and become sort of the moral voice of the group, with Brooklynn being the one who let him down. Granted, she was probably preoccupied with her dino smuggling investigation, but even so, I'm glad that they didn't do the lazy thing and have Kenji be the one who's always wrong.
And dear God, that scene after Daniel's death where he just breaks down on the side of the road? Magnificent. In...a really tragic sort of way. Like, what a naked expression of grief. He knew that his father was a terrible person who he tried so hard to escape from, but that didn't change the fact that it was his father, who he spent his entire childhood looking up to!
Now, about the love triangle thing between him, Darius, and Brooklynn, I admit I'm not too hot on that, mainly because I hate love triangles. But it does sort of make sense for Darius to develop feelings for Brooklynn, and she and Kenji had been broken up already, and it's an interesting take to have the person that the other two desire actually be "dead" already, so instead of them competing over her, it's more about these two friends who fell apart coming to terms with their very complicated feelings regarding her and each other. It's a fresh take on a tired cliche.
Sammy
If Darius is guilt-ridden, Ben paranoid, and Kenji resentful, Sammy is in straight-up denial, relying on toxic positivity and endless distractions to keep herself from falling apart. Her abandonment issues are in full force, not only with Brooklynn's death, but also growing apart from Yaz and not knowing why, and I also noted that her parents are nowhere to be seen. It may be nothing, but a queer girl in rural Texas? You kind of know how that tends to go. She is someone who will go to great, sometimes morally ambiguous lengths to keep her family together, but now it's falling apart around her, and she feels helpless to do anything about it.
Yazmina
Leave it to Yaz to be the one to say, "Hey, I'm heavily traumatized! I'm going to get therapy!" And you know what? Another thing I really like about this show is that it goes more into depth on what the world would be like if dinosaurs are suddenly on the loose everywhere, even more than Dominion did. Like, there's one blocking a gas station. There's a shitty Tiger King tourist trap with poorly taken care of dinosaurs. And there's a therapy compound for people traumatized by dinosaurs.
And Yaz, someone who really struggles with fear and self-esteem, is not only there for her own sake, but also working on projects to help others with the hologram thingie. I guess her injuries on the island meant that running wasn't really feasible anymore, so she found a new calling.
As for her and Sammy, okay, I am so glad that they didn't drag out the issues between them and instead got the fight out early. And I love how it was handled. Like, neither of them were really the bad guy or the innocent one, they both made mistakes but had understandable reasons for making them. Like, Sammy can be a bit...much, and after losing Brooklynn, it makes sense that she would get really clingy and smothering, which Yasmina did not need. But by the same token, she did sort of cut Sammy out of her life and left her to spiral. It's a very human approach to them having relationship problems.
Bumpy
Okay, just putting this here because Bumpy is best girl, and she now is a mother. Lol. We're definitely getting baby Speckles in a season or two. But do my eyes deceive me, or was Speckles one of the eggs that Jensen had?
The Atricoraptor Handler
Okay, I really want to talk about her, because, my queen!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, she's meant to be creepy and threatening. Uncanny valley, never blinks, never speaks above a whisper, heartless killer, I get it. She's a bad guy.
I still love her.
Why? Well, I know it's not exactly a deliberate or positive take, but they kind of, sort of ended up with an autistic-coded character who loves raptors. I can't help but connect.
But yeah, most of show, I was scared of her like everyone else. She's just so...off, and so intimidating. But then we get to that last scene, when she's about to sic her raptors on the campers again, only to notice how injured and fatigued they are, and instead decides to call off the attack for their sake (the raptors, I mean. Not the campers), and even comforts the one closest to her. And that's when she won me over.
Look, as much as I love JP, it really rankles me how the raptors always seem to become disposable mooks. I love raptors, and feel that they deserve more. Like, does no one remember the raptor nest scene from the original book? All the other dinosaurs often get sympathetic portrayals, even the carnivores, so why are raptors, which canonically are intelligent creatures with complex family units, often just end up as serial killers with claws to be exterminated? As much as I bash the JW movies, the one thing I do love is Blue, and even she had her siblings all wiped out!
So, throughout the finale, I knew the campers would be okay, but I kept saying, "Don't kill the raptors. You're gonna kill the raptors, aren't you? Please don't kill the raptors." And then it looked like the Rex did kill them, and I rolled my eyes. Here we go again.
But then they turn up alive and the Handler just shows them that sort of affection? My QUEEN! Yes!
Yes, I know she's still evil, but no one else is doing it!
Now, is she a raptor/dinosaur hybrid? A robot? Just sort of like that? I'm hoping that she's just a weird human who raises raptors, but a human/dinosaur hybrid has nearly popped up in the scripts, and human clones are canon, so who knows?
The Broker
Let's face it: the Broker is probably either Dodgson or someone who works for him. We finally got him in the final season of Camp Cretaceous, and since this show takes place right before Dominion, it makes sense that BioSyn would be behind everything. It's the only established character that makes sense.
Though, hey, wouldn't it be crazy if it ended up being Ian Malcolm as part of his cover? Ain't gonna happen, of course. But it would be really funny.
So yeah, really good show, ranks up there on the list of my favorite JP things, can't wait for the next season.
#jurassic park#jurassic world#camp cretaceous#chaos theory#darius bowman#ben pincus#kenji kon#sammy gutierrez#yasmina fadoula#brooklynn#atrociraptor handler#review#chaos theory spoilers
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What the heck is going on in Batman/Gotham War?
I know a lot of people in fandom are confused and/or upset about what's been going on in Gotham War - why is Bruce acting like this, what is Selina doing, why are the Batkids taking sides. So I figured I would fill you all in on what's been happening in Batman and Catwoman since Chip Zdarsky took over with Batman #125, because it has been BONKERS and I have been enjoying the hell out of it.
Below, the quickest summary I can manage while still being comprehensive:
[Content warning: mental illness, abuse, suicide (...ish), LOTS of violence.]
The first arc, "Failsafe," starts with Batman and Robin (Tim, in this case) in pursuit of the Penguin, who is on a killing spree. In the very first issue, Tim gets shot in the neck. Bruce has to take him to the hospital, but first he has to strip him out of his costume and put him in civilian clothes to preserve their secret identities, triggering memories of when he had to do the same to Jason's dead body. There is LITERALLY NO PURPOSE TO ANY OF THIS EXCEPT WHUMP (Tim is back in action with a fucking BAND-AID on his neck very quickly), which is how I knew this was going to be good. Beat Tim up! Make Bruce cry about Jason! I want these men to suffer! (There is also SO much to be said about Tim's own Poor Mental Health Decisions throughout the entirety of Zdarsky's run so far, but that's for a separate meta post.)
Anyway. Bruce leaves Tim in the hospital and goes to confront Penguin, who turns out to be dying of mercury poisoning. He kills himself and makes it look like Batman did it, forcing Bruce to flee. (Penguin actually faked his death and is alive elsewhere under an alias, but that's not important right now.)
In the Batcave, a massive robot called Failsafe emerges. Failsafe attacks Bruce, who usually eats killer robots for breakfast, but he can't seem to get the upper hand on this one. Duke, Cass, Steph, and Dick show up to help, but Failsafe beats them all too, while Tim gets an injured Bruce away and to the Batcave.
In the Batcave, Bruce puts on a weird purple and red Batman costume and a new personality takes over: the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh. Now, Zur has a very complicated history going back to 1958, but for the purposes of this story, all you need to know is that when he was younger, Bruce decided it would be good to hang out in a sensory deprivation chamber until his mind created a secondary personality, Zur, who is essentially Batman without Bruce. Zur is pure efficiency who does not care about anything but the mission. He created Failsafe, for one purpose: to kill Bruce if Bruce ever crossed the line and killed someone. And right now, Failsafe believes that Bruce killed Penguin.
Failsafe nearly kills Tim, which Zur is okay with writing off as an expendable soldier's death, but this causes Bruce to take control of the body back because "Tim isn't my soldier...HE'S MY SON!" (Tim Nation, why are you not ALL OVER this story? It's catnip.)
Babs calls in the JLA (SuperBat fans, you will also want to read Bruce's adoring description of Clark when he shows up), but of course Failsafe has kryptonite, which it stabs Clark with. The League dumps Clark and Bruce into the JLA jet and distracts Failsafe while Tim flies Clark and Bruce to the Fortress of Solitude. Bruce tells Tim he's a good boy and jumps out of the jet and into the ocean so that Tim and Clark will be safe from Failsafe. He's rescued by Arthur, who takes him to Atlantis to heal. THIS HAS ALL ONLY BEEN FOUR ISSUES SO FAR.
Two weeks later, Bruce wakes up to discover that Failsafe has taken over Gotham. He teleports up to the JLA Watchtower on the moon to lure Failsafe there, then blows the Watchtower up, hoping to catch a ride on one of the Javelins. But Failsafe has already destroyed them, so Bruce RIDES A BOOSTER ROCKET BACK TO EARTH, OXYGEN MASK CLAPPED OVER HIS FACE. The whole thing has some powerful Scooty-Puff Jr energy.
The only tricky part is reentry, when Bruce starts to burn up - his costume is fireproof, of course, but his chin is exposed. SO HE TAKES OFF HIS LITTLE BAT-PANTIES AND PUTS THEM OVER HIS HEAD. I swear to god this happened in a real comic book and the entire "Bruce falls off the moon and survives" sequence is utterly delectable goofy nonsense and I truly cannot recall a time I've had more fun reading a comic book.
Anyway, Bruce lands directly outside of the Fortress, BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DOES, and runs inside to find Clark and Tim. While Clark keeps Failsafe distracted, Bruce and Tim program nanobots to inject compassion into Failsafe. I SWEAR TO GOD. They zap him with the nanobots, but Failsafe pulls a high tech space gun out of the Fortress and shoots Bruce with it anyway, apparently disintegrating him. Tim falls to his knees in the snow, weeping. TIM NATION, WAKE UP, THIS RUN IS CANDY FOR YOU.
But of course Bruce isn't dead! That wasn't a killing gun, it was a "zap you into another dimension" gun!!! THAT was the compassion!
So Bruce finds himself in a dystopian alternate Gotham, and I'll be honest, I didn't love this arc ("The Bat-Man of Gotham") as much as I loved "Failsafe," but it has its moments. In this Gotham, Bruce Wayne is dead, so Regular Bruce is like "Oh boy, time to Batman this place up." Also he's plagued by hallucinations of a skeleton version of Jim Gordon who is still wearing a trench coat AND A MUSTACHE. Like I said, it has its moments.
This Gotham is controlled by Arkham, and anyone who is diagnosed as "crazy" is locked up. A new villain, Red Mask, is in charge, and Selina and a Venomed-up Harvey Dent work for him. Bruce teams up with an orphan kid (of course) named Jewel and goes after Red Mask, who turns out to be some guy named Darwin Halliday and ALSO...the Joker. Well, he's the Joker who hasn't been Jokerized yet. But one time he breathed in some chemicals that let him see into the main reality of the DCU (???) and glimpsed Regular Joker and now he wants to build an interdimensional machine to mentally connect with Regular Joker across universes which he assumes will make him insane, NATURALLY.
Bruce attacks Red Mask, who sics a Venomed-up Ghost Maker on him. Ghost Maker cuts off Bruce's right hand. Bruce cauterizes it with an electroshock machine and ties some spikes on it (SERIOUSLY) and goes after Red Mask again. Meanwhile Red Mask mentally connects with an alternate dimensional Joker...but instead of it driving Red Mask insane, he's what drives the Joker insane. Desperate to become the Joker somehow, anyhow, he jumps into the interdimensional portal, and Morally Dubious Alternate Universe Selina kicks Bruce in after him.
Meanwhile, Tim is in full "I KNOW I SAW HIM DIE BUT HE'S NOT DEAD" mode, which: bless. So he teams up with Jon Kent, which...gosh, what an astonishingly boring duo. I love Jon, I love Tim, they're perfectly nice and normal around each other, I'm falling asleep. Anyway Tim fights Toyman for a while and then makes a VERY stupid costume where the entire torso is a giant light-up R, because "I want him to see that Robin is coming to save him." GET A THERAPY, TIM.
Bruce finds himself first in the Michael Keaton Batman universe, then the Red Rain universe, BTAS, Batman Beyond (yes I know they're the same universe but I guess he goes there twice), Silver Age, Kingdom Come, Gotham by Gaslight, and more. Adam West gives him a utility belt. The Dark Knight Returns Bruce builds him a robot hand.
Finally Bruce and Red Mask reach the end of the multiverse, which is a Gotham asteroid floating in space, surrounded by giant Jokerized sharks. LUCKILY BRUCE HAS BAT-SHARK REPELLANT IN HIS ADAM WEST UTILITY BELT!!! Honestly this whole arc was worth it for that moment.
Bruce knocks Red Mask out, but now he's stuck. He has a device from Batman Beyond Bruce to get home, but it's only good for one person, and he can't leave Red Mask there to die. Of course, that's when Tim shows up in his stupid giant glowing R costume and they hug it out, thereby fulfilling but also compounding all of Tim's issues since 1989.
Anyway things are fine now, right? Sure, Bruce is hallucinating that his family is on fire, and the Zur personality is not going neatly back into the box where it's been all these years, and he still has a robot hand (Damian, hilariously, immediately announces that he wants one too), but he's FINE. He is a little bit mad at Selina, because she broke out of jail (she was in jail because she killed her fuckbuddy because he was trying to kill Bruce), and also because she didn't tell him Penguin was alive and that would have stopped Failsafe, and also because Other Selina kicked into another universe. Selina, very fairly, is like "Well I'm not responsible for Other Selinas and also maybe don't build robots to kill yourself with and not tell anyone about them???"
THEN we got Knight Terrors, the summer event in which a villain called Nightmare caused everyone to fall asleep and, uh, have nightmares. Bruce, specifically, had a nightmare that he met an eight-year-old version of himself that vomited up a man-sized bat with a gun for a head. I laughed SO HARD. Bruce also had his body borrowed by Deadman for the duration of the event, so while he endured the psychological toll of nightmares like everyone else, he also endured the physical toll of everything Deadman was doing PLUS the mental toll of being aware of what was happening in the waking world even though he couldn't control his body. As soon as the event was over, he lapsed into a coma so that his body could get some damn rest.
Okay. Now we're up to Gotham War.
(I know, I know. But for all of you who are like "How could Bruce do this???" about Gotham War...*points up* THAT'S HOW. HE IS NOT WELL.)
Bruce awakens from his coma and IMMEDIATELY decides to Fight A Crime even though Babs is like "Maybe don't?" But he can't find any crime, which is...weird. His kids confirm that Gotham's been super quiet since he's been out.
Selina hears that Bruce is awake and is like okay, time to pay the piper. She calls all of the Bats to a meeting and explains that she's the reason crime has been down. See, villains like Joker and Two-Face always have goons, right? But what if the goon supply dried up because the goons have better jobs? So Selina has trained All The Goons In Gotham to be...cat burglars. No violence, no stealing from anyone who can't afford it. More importantly, no helping Scarecrow or whoever commit mass murder.
All of the Batkids are like "Hmm...I feel uncertain about this, but it's working...I don't know what to think..." except for Jason, who thinks it's hilarious and is instantly Team Selina, and Damian, who is staunchly Team Bruce. Bruce, meanwhile, is like "No! NO! THIS IS CRIMES, AND CRIMES IS BAD!" and Selina's like "I mean, robbing from the rich is basically a victimless crime" and Bruce screams, I swear to god, "MY PARENTS WERE 'RICH'!" Inexplicable scare quotes and all. I laughed so hard.
Anyway this is the basis for Gotham War and it is endlessly hilarious to me because everyone in the Batfamily is supposed to be a genius and yet not one single character has pointed out that:
There are jobs the goons could be doing that AREN'T illegal. It's not just violent crime vs. nonviolent crime. There are in fact many other jobs! I am POSITIVE Gotham needs construction workers and hospital orderlies. (Yes, I know it's hard for people with records to get jobs. That isn't addressed.)
Being Batman is SUPER ILLEGAL.
They are all so stupid.
Selina's plan doesn't even work, because one of her thieves gets killed by a rich person defending their home, and Bruce is like "See? This is why crime is bad!" and like...pretty much snaps. He's particularly fixated on Jason, even (rhetorically) threatening to kill him, which is when the other kids jump into the fray on Jason's side, all except for Damian, who like I said is firmly Team Bruce. (This makes complete sense to me, Damian has been dealing with severe trauma and isolation pretty much nonstop since 2018 and he and Bruce have finally made a tenuous peace, so I can understand why he wouldn't want to lose that.)
Also, Vandal Savage buys Wayne Manor. It's so random and SO funny.
OKAY BATMAN #138. Bruce has kidnapped Jason and injected him with a variation on fear toxin which will be triggered whenever Jason's adrenaline spikes, the idea being that Jason is no longer capable of killing - but in practice, Jason is no longer capable of even getting up off the floor, he's so terrified. I want to be really, really clear here: Bruce is like 90% Zur here, and the only reason he goes this route and doesn't kill Jason is because the remaining 10% that's still Bruce loves Jason and is trying to help him. He's just incapable of good or humane help because Zur literally can't do feelings.
Dick knows something is up and is sneaking around Bruce's Secret Other House We've Never Heard Of to figure out what it is. Damian attacks him to protect Bruce. Tim attacks Damian so that Dick can do what he needs to do, and handcuffs Damian to a parking meter:
THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE!!! TIM GO TO THERAPY! DAMIAN GO TO THERAPY! EVERYONE GO TO THERAPY!!!!!
Dick figures out what Bruce did to Jason (it's on the computer, for...some reason?) and absolutely loses his shit on Bruce, beating the crap out of him, which tbh is the only thing that felt off to me in this run because frankly I don't think Dick likes Jason that much. BUT WHATEVER.
Tim pulls Dick off of Bruce. Bruce leaves them both tangled in a net and flees as the cops approach. Zur's like "Good, fuck 'em" in Bruce's head, because the cops will expose Dick, Tim, and Damian's secret identities and Bruce will be free of the dead weight of a family, but the little bit of Bruce still in there throws Dick a batarang so he can free them all in time.
Then Bruce leaves. Damian is devastated.
I WILL NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS PAGE. Damian really thought he could have Bruce's love and loyalty if he turned on everyone else! Tim is going to be a therapy dog to a Wayne even if he has to settle for the one he doesn't like! That unresisting, blank hug made me SCREAM when I turned the page. Incredible. (Also the art fucking S L A P S, god bless you Jorge Jimenez.)
ALSO it turns out that Selina's second in command has been Vandal Savage's daughter Scandal Savage the whole time and they are turning Selina's cat burglar army into their own personal army WHOOPS. (This also feels very OOC for Scandal but at this point I trust Zdarsky with my life so let's see where things go.)
SO THAT'S WHAT'S GOING ON IN GOTHAM WAR. TL;DR:
Bruce is unhinged because he nearly died like 19 times in a week and it unlocked the smaller, meaner purple Batman that lives inside him.
Selina is unaware that you can get money legally.
Tim is going to have a nervous breakdown if he can't fix someone, ANYONE.
Damian needs a hug but ideally from someone he actually likes this time.
Jason is so scared.
THE END.
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okay i knew it was coming but its kind of killing me how obtuse people are being towards toshiro (im not fucking calling him shuro and honestly yall should stop with that too). should he have told laios how he really felt about him, sure, yeah, but im going to go off on a limb here and suggest maybe! maybe! he's been raised in an environment where it's actually like legitimately unheard of and taboo to be very open and straight forward about his feelings. the entire party has been calling him by a name that literally isnt even his own because he is so used to quashing down his own reactions to others. like i think other poc diaspora dunmeshi fans might agree with me here but he just reads like someone whos not bothered enough to correct every microaggression thrown his way. because that shit is exhausting. and after like five hours of laios bugging him about stories of his homeland why would he have a good opinion of him. genuinely. im not saying laios is entirely at fault but neither is toshiro. i love laios too but it is Very Weird that toshiro gets the brunt of their friendship's falling out (ill circle back to this)
also to preface this i am a farcille shipper so im. not pushing for falin/toshiro. but people acting like his affection for falin is somehow not relevant or he has no devotion to falin at all is CRAZY. immediately after being teleported out he threw himself back into that dungeon and didnt eat or sleep properly to rescue her. we literally watch him collapse from it. after multiple episodes emphasizing the importance of nutrition and caring for yourself and your take away from a man willing to toss that away is that he just. doesn't care for falin? why is he in the dungeon then? answer. quickly. granted he's not as onboard with the whole black magic thing but his concerns are literally valid and before we see falin chimera he seems to have been talked down from reporting them all for it. its the proof of his concerns of the use of black magic that he decides to go up and report them at all. his bond with falin isn't nearly as strong as marcille's bond but its also not nothing. ignoring that or minimising his own sacrifices is such a nasty bad faith disservice to his character.
speaking of bonds. toshiro doesn't hate laios. guys. his last act this episode was to give laios and the rest of the party (yes, even black magic user marcille) a way out of the hole that they'd already dug for themselves. fleeing to the east and leaving falin to the elves isnt the best case scenario but it is one that lets the majority of the party survive whatever's coming. its the realistic play. is this the act of a man who hates his former colleagues? is he wishing harm and further misfortune on them? his actions speak for themselves. you guys are being way too hard on toshiro and its really fucking telling. this goes for white viewers especially
#dungeon meshi#toshiro nakamoto#ive been in both laios and toshiro's perspectives re: their interpersonal miscommunication and did you know! its actually really hard to#tell people how you really feel. shitting on toshiro for not being able to tell a fellow party member hey you're really draining my social#battery is NOT the act of evil some of you seem hellbent on interpreting it as#seph.txt
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GOT IT CYCLOPS? carl grimes x fem!reader
warnings — both are 18+, stupid grimes part 2, e2l?, adopted!rhee!reader, teasing, making out, fingering, jerking off, lovesick once they stop having bitch fights
it went unspoken that you and carl were going to ignore that day in the janitor’s closet. you both were snapped into reality and rescued before things could escalate much further, leaving tension and awkwardness at a high.
and carl couldn’t tell if he liked that or not, on one hand, he’s glad he let everything out and the two of you shared a moment. on the other, you’re really hot when you’re mad.
currently you were ready to chew his ass out, ready to pound his face in for being so stupid. he walked through the streets of alexandria with you hot on his trail, a smirk playing on his lips despite the circumstances.
this was another instance where the adults were trying to put you both together again. they noticed how at peace you seemed after coming home that one day, despite being bombarded by a herd. but after that it was right back to how it was before. and they were determined.
it was mostly rick and daryl, your mom too if she weren’t at the hilltop. you can still remember carl begging you to stay and then acting like he hated your guts again when you caved.
this time the run was nearly successful, though on the way back to your car to load up and leave, carl decided to pick a fight.
carl lifts the trunk with a grunt, tossing in diapers and other things judith needed. you were carrying miscellaneous things negan would want, making your way to the car. you sling your haul into the trunk, turning with a grimace when you hear carl’s snarky laughter.
he points behind you at a trio of walkers headed your way. from the looks of it, it’s only them. but you settle for just your knife anyway. but carl’s hand is on your shoulder before you can make your way to them, they’re about thirty feet away.
“rock paper scissors for ‘em.” he smirks and holds out his fist. you narrow your eyes at him and swat at his hand.
“are you crazy? let’s just deal with them.” you remember him lecturing those kids for playing with the walkers before, now look at him.
carl lifts his hands in the air, “i forgot how afraid you are of losing.” you go to turn to him, ready to spew out the meanest things that came to your head. but he darts ahead of you, killing two of the walkers. the last one is able to get it’s hands on him while he was busying himself with it’s friends. you watch amused as he tackles it to the ground, showing a little struggle as he does so.
you make slow steps to him, watching for a while until the walker’s mouth gets dangerously close to carl’s neck. carl who was still telling you to hold off on killing it. but you ignore him, running over and piercing through it’s eye with your blade in one swift motion.
“i said i fucking had it,” carl huffs as he stands, brushing off his clothes. he looks to you, your sour expression stunning him. “what’s that look for?”
you let out a short laugh and poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. “you had it? come on, if i wasted thirty more seconds listening to you, i’d have a dead grimes on my hands.”
carl smirks and walks closer to you, placing a hand on your waist, “didn’t know you cared that much, rhee.” you push him away with a dirty look,
“this little cool guy act doesn’t amuse me.” carl sighs and slides his knife back in his belt. “you know what will happen to me if i come back with you bit? i’ll never be trusted again.”
“admit you’d be at least a little sad.” carl’s voice isn’t teasing anymore, it sounds like he genuinely wants you to say it. like he believed you would be so heartless. you just sigh and nod, mumbling a ‘whatever’ and walk to the car. that’s enough for him.
you were still pissed at him for that little stunt, and made it very known. you followed him around all day, making sure to let any strange lookers know that his reckless behavior led him to being babysat all the time.
instead of bickering back he just took it, and even laughed. “what are you laughing at grimes?”
he shrugs, lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair. “i just like riling you up like this.” he smiles at your annoyed expression. “it’s fun!” you roll your eyes and walk past him, parting from him for the first time that day. he looks at where you were just standing, then behind him, running a bit to catch up to you. the approaching footsteps behind you cause you to sigh and cross your arms.
“what happened to babysitting me?”
his voice is still laced with humor, it’s starting to make you mad. “carl.” you whip around, your stern voice startles him, leading him to freeze. you get close to him, so close he can feel your breath on his lips. again, and it drives him crazy.
your composure falls and you adjust yourself on your feet. “carl, i’m not riled up, i’m not just babysitting you. what happened today scared me. you got too cocky with things and almost got yourself killed.”
carl bites his lip nervously, looking into your eyes. he dips his head down, not worrying about the gazes trained on you. “let me make it up to you.”
his lips brush yours and you place your hands on his chest, blocking him from going further. he pouts slightly, tilting his head. “that won’t work this time.”
that night you laid in your dark room, not bothering to turn on the lantern. you were lost in your thoughts, what if you had just let carl be? what if he did get bit? why is he playing it off like it didn’t happen? why is he playing that night off like it didn’t happen?
the last thing has made you snarkier with him. you were pissed he was acting like he hadn’t confessed to you, like he hadn’t kissed you and almost took it to the next base if it weren’t for your little rescue team.
a noise rips you out of your thoughts. it sounded like something small hitting glass. you lift the headphones of your walkman off your head and creep over to your window. on the way you slide your gun off your nightstand, would you realistically need it? nine out of ten times no one could get in the walls, but you’ve learned to never play it too safe.
another noise comes before you can reach the window and you sigh when you see the pebble hit the glass and fall. carl.
you huff and toss your gun onto your bed, rushing to the window and throwing it open. your hands slam on the window seal, a loud smack sound echoing through the night.
“that was a little dramatic.”
“what do you want, grimes?” carl answers you by climbing the tree next to your window. you roll your eyes but stand to the side to allow him entry anyway.
he breathes heavily when he makes it to the top, looking into your room and then at you through the glass. “i can come in?”
you give him a stupid look and lean on your hip, “no, i’ll push you and watch you fall and snap your neck.” you reach out and grab him by the collar to tug him in. “you can be so stupid, grimes.”
“stupid for you.” he attempts to wink but mentally face palms when he realizes that’s definitely not possible at this point. he makes a funny face at himself and you can’t help but smile, his poor attempt at being mr. smooth reminded you of that night.
then your mind drifts to how he’s ignoring it. and you’re back to mad again.
“what do you want?”
carl frowns at your tone, so you’re still mad, got it. “i want to make it up to you. besides the fact, you know, i’m still here and breathing.”
“that’s not the point carl.” you grunt as you sit on your bed, putting your revolver in your nightstand. carl sits next to you, looking at you expectantly for you to continue. a sigh leaves your lips and your head falls to look at your hands instead of him.
“you could have died.” carl opens his mouth to protest, but you’re quicker, placing a hand over his mouth. his shoulders fall dejectedly but he awaits your explanation nonetheless. “you’re being idiotic and careless and just an asshat like you were before.”
your hand slowly falls from his face and he looks at you with a glint of regret in his eye. “i just thought things would change after what you explained and confessed. i didn’t think you’d just act like nothing happened.”
he doesn’t know what to say, so his hand reaches out to grab yours when you smack it. he looks up to see your sad expression wiped away with an angered one. “and if you’d died without acting on whatever the hell that was, believe me grimes, i wouldn’t let you rest easy.” carl smiles at your returned sassy spark, the you that was so fun to toy with.
“okay then, rhee.” he grabs your hand, harsh enough to keep you from pulling away but not enough to hurt you. “catch me doing it again and you can take me out yourself.” you seem satisfied at that, causing carl to laugh at your antics.
“can i finally make it up to you now?” you quirk a brow at him, breath hitching at how close he was getting. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you, but i didn’t want to push anything.” so you do it for him, you close the gap between the two of you with a kiss slower than last time.
you pull away for a second and he chases your lips, leading you both to fall back on the mattress. “if you’re gonna make it up to me, you’re gonna do it right. we’re doing this how i want it. got it, cyclops?” he narrows his eye at you and tilts his head at the nickname, but doesn’t protest against your demands.
you slide your hand through his hair, gripping the tufts near his neck to pull his lips back to yours. he groans against your lips with every tug you make, his hips involuntarily grinding down onto yours.
you guide his right hand up to your waist and his left to your chest. he pulls away, a line of spit connecting your swollen lips. he looks down, finally realizing that all you have on is a sheer tank top and shorts. fitting for summer heat, but the lack of a bra surprises him more than it should.
he swallows thickly and feels his pants get uncomfortably tighter. the hand at your waist tugs your body closer to his while the other makes work on your nipples through your shirt. you can tell he’s inexperienced but so are you, the only thing giving it away is the confused look on his face and how needy he’s acting.
he shuts his eye tightly when you stop his movements and trail your hands down to his pants. you nod your head to the side and carl sits himself against your headboard, watching you intently. he’s breathing heavily again and his right hand comes up to cup your face.
if you were to look up you would see the adoration in his gaze, but your focus is trained on pleasing him instead. your minds are on polar opposite sides. you get his pants down and wrap your hand around him, causing him to suck in a breath through his teeth.
his hand goes to yours before you could even think about going further, “wait.” he pulls you closer to him, placing you on his lap. “i want to make it up to you.” you get the hint when he messily glides you over his cock. he shivers slightly at the contact but holds back as best as he can.
“what happened to this going my way?”
carl lets out a noise between a whine and a groan, “please.” and who are you to deny that?
“i’d like to see the protection you have then.” carl’s head falls back, knocking his hat off. he hadn’t planned things to go this far.
he throws an arm over his face, “where the hell was i supposed to get that?” you pat his cheek as a warning sign,
“don’t get snarky again. i don’t see mini rick and michonne’s running around. i’m sure you could’ve found something.” carl gives you a pointed glare, hinting at you to do the same. “i’m not going in my parent’s room, that’s a one way ticket to busted-town, grimes.”
carl huffs and pushes his sweaty hair away from his face. the comment you had made before about him being pretty, even now, has his face turning slightly pink. “i have an idea.” his hands find their way on your hips, and he looks to you for confirmation before he continues.
he guides you to get on your knees, your cunt hovering right over his dick. he takes two fingers and experimentally runs them through your folds, coating his fingers in your slick. he groans at how wet you are, trying to rack his brain for what to do next.
you giggle at him, watching the gears turn in his head. he smiles softly at you in return, sliding one of his fingers into you. he does his best at trying to keep his composure as he leads your hand to his cock, letting you take the reigns.
he curls his finger, eye searching your face for any hint of pain. your eyes meet his as you run your thumb over his slit, challenging him to keep eye contact. his mouth falls open and his movements are already getting messy. he leans in to kiss you, matching the ferocity from that night in the closet. teeth clashing and moans and heavy breaths mixing.
you feel his thumb on your clit, attempting to rub slow circles but he just can’t hold himself back. his movements echo yours, or what he wants you to give him. instead you’re being too slow for his liking, getting back at him for all his innocent teasing.
but it still gets him close, because he’s starving and it’s you. and he can tell by the way your thighs are shaking that you are too. he parts from your lips just enough to speak, “with me.” he’s so out of it, so breathless and entranced he can barely speak. “please.” you nod, speeding up your movements until his cock is twitching in your hand and making a mess of it and your sheets. though his lap isn’t much better, causing you to bury your head in his neck.
carl couldn’t help but laugh, you’ll never escape his antics if he gets this out of it.
#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x you#carl grimes#carl grimes smut#twd x reader#twd oneshot#twd imagine#twd smut#twd fanfiction#carl grimes oneshot#carl grimes imagine#carl x reader#carl x you#carl grimes x fem!reader#the walking dead smut#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead x you#the walking dead x y/n#the walking dead fanfiction
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break free (eustass kid x reader nsfw)
a demon literally possessed me while writing this! this is kinda late, i wanted to have this out for his birthday but.... here we are!
heed the content warnings!
18+, nsfw, mdni, wc: 1.7k masterlist
cw: afab!fem!reader, overstimulation, roleplay, bondage, kidnapping (he saves you don't worry), violence/violent imagery, blood, kid kills people, humiliation, inappropriate use of kid's metal fingers, rough sex and everything that entails, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, degradation, established relationship, hole stretching
tagging: @mandiemegatron @starlightkitten19 @wrennyx
A sigh of relief leaves your lips as the door rips open off its hinges. Though you were held dangling in the air by cuffs digging into your wrists, the sight of Kid storming into the room was enough to calm the panic swirling in your chest; of course he was coming to save you—and you hoped he was going to make it extra painful for the people who had dared to mess with what was his.
It's over in nearly an instant; Kid’s ability to disarm and repel weapons back towards their owners is enough to overpower nearly any normal man, but he makes sure to get a few powerful licks in with his metal arm, brutal with his swings and clashes as he gets his vengeance served on a silver platter—it was almost too easy for him, and if you weren’t the one at stake, he would likely consider the whole ordeal a waste of his time.
“Dumbass. Don’t get captured again. On my fucking birthday too…” he scoffs as he looks at you, covered in blood as crimson as his hair. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he stares at you, and takes stock of the predicament you’re in, suspended in the air by your shackles; though your legs are free to move, they can’t touch the ground.
The situation you’re in has rendered you so vulnerable; so much so, that any annoyance at having to come collect you from a bunch of half-rate kidnappers was replaced with wicked and deviant thoughts.
“Lookin’ good there.” he says with a devious smirk, eyes slowly running down your body. No being or obstacle could hinder his path as he stalks towards you, and the room echoes with the squelch and snap of bones as he stomps over the fresh corpses of your kidnappers as if they were nothing but pesky ants. Passion overflows from his every movement as he snatches you by the waist and kisses you deeply, wasting no time slipping his tongue inside your mouth and pressing himself against you.
“Mmm, Kid, get these chains off me.” you mumble against his lips, wincing at the way the metal drags across your skin as you struggle against your restraints.
Wildfire brims in his eyes as he pulls back from the kiss and his metal fingers tilt your chin upward to face him, a silent demand for you to look him in the eyes.
“I dunno princess, I feel like I deserve a reward for coming all this way to rescue you.” he says teasingly, tracing his fingers down your side and dipping them just below the waistband of your skirt.
“Right here? You sure?” you squeak out in surprise, rattling against your chains as you adjust the way your wrists are being held by the shackles holding you up for him.
“It’s either I tie you up back on the ship or I fuck you right here, and I don’t feel like waiting.” he says, voice gravely and rumbling like the soft purr of an engine. His words make your thighs rub together as heat pools in your cheeks and between your legs. The feeling of your heartbeat pounding in your face intensifies as his hand creeps up your skirt, calloused fingers roughly dragging across the soft expanse of your thigh.
“Be gentle with me, it’s my first time…” you say, feigning embarrassment and casting your head downward. The flush on your cheeks soon becomes genuine as Kid’s booming, hysterical laughter rings in your ears, pulling you out of the fantasy.
“Not buying that one, babe—not when you’re dressed like that.” he says with a smirk, reaching under your skirt and snapping the waistband of your lace thong.
“Shut up!” you squeak, voice cracking and coming out much weaker than you intended it to. “You’re the one who called me princess! I thought we were—ugh, just forget it…” Now, you really were too shy to meet his eyes, gaze fixating on a dark, expanding pool of blood on the concrete floor instead.
“Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ shy on me now…” he taunts, amused by your embarrassment. Reveling in the burning heat on your cheeks, he leaves a trail of bites along your exposed neck, working his way towards your ear. “Can’t promise I’ll be gentle, but I’ll make it worth your while, babe.” he murmurs, emphasizing his words with a hot lick of his tongue along the shell of your ear.
“Give it to me, Kid…” you whisper lowly, trying to tamper your tone to not sound so needy for him. He gets to work as soon as the words leave your mouth, with his thumb traveling up to rub circles over your clothed clit.
“That’s my girl…” he says teasingly as you react to his touch, back arching away from the wall and towards his chest as he starts to unravel you. “Such a little slut…” he murmurs as he slides your panties to the side and sinks a finger inside of you, earning him a dreamy sigh as you tilt your hips towards him. “All dolled up and so eager to take me.” he hisses in your ear as he thrusts his finger into your glistening sex a few times before adding another. The sounds your pussy makes as he fucks you with his broad and rough digits are downright sloppy, and he halts the desperate way you squirm against him for release by pinning your waist to the wall with his metal hand, insistent on getting you to your high with his actions alone.
There’s a underlying gentleness to Kid’s movements, an undying devotion hidden under the guise of rough touches and crude remarks. He’s as jagged and broken as sharp shards of glass, but as he takes in the sight of you whining and whimpering for him as you cream on his fingers, he wants to both spoil you, and drag this opportunity out as long as he possibly can.
“That’s it, good girl, cumming around my fingers.” he praises, as he slips them into your mouth to lick clean. He groans as you suck on them, throwing his head back for a moment before lining one of his cold, broad, metal fingers up with your soaked entrance. The chill of the metal stings as he pushes into you, causing you to bite down on his salty fingers with a whine. He doesn’t relent, and is brutal with his movements, not affording you a chance to adjust to the way his metallic digit filled and stretched you up. His lips smash onto yours as he claims you greedily, possessively, and with a hint of bloodthirst still coursing through his veins. He’s already turned you into a mess, but he can’t help going the extra mile and slipping a second metal finger past your folds; the stretch causes you to suck on his lower lip hard in shock, prompting him to grab a fistful of your hair and tug on it.
“Feel good?” he asks, pulling away from your swollen and bitten lips to admire the fucked out expression on your face.
“Mhm… Feels s’good, don’t stop…” you whimper as he nudges the tips of his fingers across your sweet spot with each pass. He smirks at the way you’re so eager for him, even when you’re both bathed in blood, grime, and sweat.
“Little slut likes getting split open by my fingers, huh?” he taunts, getting you closer with each drag of his fingers along your walls. He feels the heat of your face and the twitch of your legs, and doubles his efforts to push you over the edge. “If you like ‘em so much, cream on ‘em.” he growls in your ear. The vibrations from the rumble of his deep voice travel down through your side and into your core, giving you no choice but to cum hard around him, walls spasming as your body writhes against the chains holding you in place.
Kid stares at you hungrily, drinking in each flutter of your pussy and every whine and moan that leaves your pretty, bloody, lipstick covered mouth. “Ready for my cock, pipsqueak?” he says with a wicked, toothy smirk as he stares you down; your pulse is still caught in your cheeks and you nod your head vigorously with a hum of desperation, begging him to give it to you as you yearn to be filled again. “It’s a good thing ya’ want it so bad, since you’re all tied up with nowhere to go.” he murmurs before entering you; it’s almost too easy as the stretch of his fingers molded you like putty, leaving you ready and pliable for him. You were his to completely own and wreck, and the way you moaned like a bitch in heat against his lips told him you loved every second of it.
The way his fat cock abused you and tightened the coil in your abdomen was almost unfair, and left you whining and writhing against your shackles. Kid doesn’t let up—not for a minute as he brutally buries his cock deep inside you—but he slams you against the wall with a hand locked around your hips.
“The more you squirm against me, the harder I’m gonna make you cum.” he warns before returning his attention to your soft, raw, swollen lips. The power and speed behind each thrust is unfathomable, but the way he kisses you is surprisingly soft by Kid’s standards; his wet tongue swirls against yours, eagerly catching every muffled and dampened sound that escapes you. The dissonance between his kiss and the brutality of the way he is fucking you scrambles your mind, and brings you to your high a third time; it’s more intense, and stars fill your vision as you flutter around him, and nearly pass out as blood pools in your ears. He’s not far behind as his hips begin to stutter, and he digs his teeth into your bottom lip and sucks hard as he shoots thick white ropes into you; the next few moments are soft, as he catches his breath and buries his head into your chest while he threads his fingers through your hair.
Panting and sighing, both of you take a minute to catch your breath before he slowly pulls out of you, groaning softly at the last drag of his cock against your tight walls.
“Any of them lay a hand on you?” he asks, cradling your face in his hand; you shake your head, and you catch the small hint of relief that crashes over his face like a wave.
“Good, ‘cause it’d be a pain in the ass to go down to hell and kill those bastards a second time.”
#one piece x reader#eustass kid x reader#eustass kidd x reader#eustass kid x you#eustass kidd x you#eustass kid smut#eustass kidd smut#one piece smut#one piece fanfiction#mdni#eustass kid#eustass kidd#x reader
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Gwynriels: The books speak for themselves.
The books: "Would you like me to show you the garden?" • But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away • “Beautiful." • Color bloomed high on Azriel's golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them. • "I can help her," said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. • "She doesn't need anything" • It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. • But Azriel asked softly, "What about Elain?" • "I'm getting her back." Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel's hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, "Then you will die." Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, "I'm getting her back." • "Are you hurt?" •
"You came for me." • Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time • "We need Helion to get these chains off her." • Yet Elain didn't seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger's cheek. • "This is Truth-Teller," he told her softly. "I won't be using it today—so I want you to." • I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. • Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. • "He is Elain's mate." I waited. "It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him." • "If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance." • "Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?" • I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed. • "Sit. I'll take care of it." • "Wait until everyone is seated before eating." • I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. • "Oh, that's from me." • Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, "Thank you." • Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she'd sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house • "Because of the shit with Elain?" Azriel stilled. "What happened to Elain?" • No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. • "I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all." • Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, "There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to." • Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he'd heard Elain's sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. • Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. • A pretty lie. She'd seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. • Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond • Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. • It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. • He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue -- • How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make. • Elain bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of Azriel's restraint to keep from putting his own teeth there. • Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. • Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. • Tilting her face the way he wanted it. • Offer and permission • "You can't order me to do that."
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It occurred to me how incredibly chaotic and delightful Cheese Melt would be when put in the same room as Danny and Jack, so yeah. More silly comic doodles.
Jack, Vlad, Danny, and Danielle go camping! Vlad only agreed to this because he's frustrated and jealous of how much Dani seems to like Jack despite his best attempts to brainwash her into hating him, and he's sure that two nights in the woods will prove to her that Jack is an idiot and not nearly as good of a parent as Vlad is. Vlad knows he can't simply forbid Dani from ever talking to Jack again, because she's already such a free spirit who barely listens to him. So it's obviously the best plan to ensure that Dani comes to the correct conclusion all on her own. Unfortunately for Vlad, he yet again has utterly played himself (or rather, has let Dani play him like the master of psychological manipulation she is).
Meanwhile, Danny is just here to hang out with his dad and Dani, and point and laugh at Vlad's rising blood pressure while ALSO ensuring Vlad doesn't end up legitimately killing his dad. And Jack is of course utterly oblivious to the intensely complicated dynamic of his three half ghost companions. He's just happy to go hiking (they immediately get lost) go canoeing (they immediately capsize) and share a tent with his best friend (who immediately politely declines)
Dani and Danny then encounter a small army of blob ghosts in the woods and Dani convinces Danny to pretend to get captured with her, in the hopes that it will force Vlad to work with Jack to rescue them (and maybe fix some of the tension). Comedy and vaguely heartwarming moments ensues.
#I don't know what it is with me and throwing Vlad and Jack into the woods & making them work together#They just give off so much twin moron energy and Vlad's intense rage is hilarious to me#add cheese melt and a tagalong Danny to that and it's perfect <3#no one:#Vlad: I am going to get a good grade in parenting. something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve#danny phantom#vlad masters#dani phantom#danielle phantom#danny fenton#jack fenton#cheese melt
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i get that spike/spuffy antis have to hate season seven on principle (and the fact that they act like spike’s arc is entirely frivolous and unimportant is so wildly dismissive of buffy’s i don’t think they actually even like her!), but so many are straight up factually incorrect about what actually happens. i don’t know if it’s a media literacy issue or a choice to be obstinate. probably a mixture. when you want something to be a certain way, misunderstanding something gives you room to declare yourself right.
their main talking point is that ensouled spike forces his presence on buffy. this… just doesn’t happen even once in the season. at all.
spike doesn’t return to sunnydale to see buffy. he goes back to the hellmouth. probably because it’s all he knows, as a demon he considers it home, and not for nothing he’s already being controlled by the first who wants him in place for a specific purpose.
in the first episode, lessons, buffy comes across spike on her own. he’s at some of his most insane for this interaction, and he walks away from her. in the next episode, beneath you, buffy seeks spike out. she goes to the basement and can’t find him. he’s actively hiding from her.
later in the same episode he gets himself cleaned up and goes to her, for the first and only time. he says it’s because something terrible is coming and he wants to offer his help. he tells her if she doesn’t want him around, tell him and he’ll leave and she can revoke his invite (which notably is still active). she doesn’t. she accepts his help.
they talk while looking for the demon and buffy says she can tell something is different about him but she doesn’t know what. spike makes a point to say he isn’t going to tell her what it is. that’s MAJOR. spike does not want buffy to know about his soul. he doesn’t put it on her, and he doesn’t make it her problem. he ends up telling her only after it’s nearly forced out of him and he’s triggered back into insanity after a lucid period. after he reveals his soul, he leaves.
in the next episode, same time same place, buffy seeks spike out. he’s once again hiding in the basement, so she knows where to find him, but he does not go to her. she enlists his help that episode, twice.
the next episode is help. buffy goes to the basement to see spike. she asks if he knows anything about cassie. he later helps buffy save cassie from the boys trying to sacrifice her.
in the next one, selfless, buffy once again goes to spike. it’s a definite a pattern. buffy seeks out spike. it’s actually a lot like much of their relationship in season six, only much more one sided. she tells him to leave the basement because it’s bad for him.
the next episode, him, sees a big shift. it’s still buffy going to spike, but this time she doesn’t just leave him in the basement. she actively chooses to help him out of it, getting xander to let him move into his apartment. there’s a huge and important change in their dynamic now. they are solidly in each other’s lives, and that was and continues to be buffy’s choice.
i won’t do little synopses for each episode from the rest of the season, but from here spike offers to leave at minimum four additional times, half a dozen or more total all season.
he earnestly wants buffy to kill him in sleeper and never leave me, because he’s devastated and terrified that he’s killing. buffy says no, she’s going to help him and she believes in him. she rescues him, because she wants to, and moves him back into her house.
later on spike seems to be gaining back control of his mind, but when the first threatens him he once again says he’s a danger and needs to leave and buffy says no because shes not ready for him not to be here.
buffy wants spike in her life. she makes that fact extremely clear. maybe at first it wasn’t for the healthiest reasons, but a major theme of season seven is spike and buffy healing both as individuals and growing closer together because of it. their relationship empowers and strengthens buffy, and the final episode is called chosen for a reason. this season is about buffy’s agency. that starts when she decides who’s in her life and who isn’t.
there’s never a single moment where spike makes that decision for her. he doesn’t once tell buffy she has to accept him, or that he should have access to her. he doesn’t come around when she says to leave, because she doesn’t say to leave. he stays away from her until she beckons him back. over and over.
spike doesn’t think he deserves anything from buffy. he believes the opposite, even encouraging her to date and hiding his heartache about it. he doesn’t make his insanity and suffering her problem. she volunteers to help him.
i understand having issues with the writing choice of spike back in buffy’s life at all after what happened in season six, but only if you’re engaging with it honestly. you can dislike that buffy makes the choice to have spike around, but it’s obvious when you disregard her agency and pretend he’s the one calling the shots. you hate a story that didn’t happen, and it’s impossible take seriously.
#spuffy#btvs#buffy the vampire slayer#you’re the one buffy#i believe in you spike#btvs meta#rant full steam ahead#basically a subtweet to a particularly pathetic anti on insta#spuffy is endgame#buffy loves spike#and spuffies stay winning
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Just a few things in Season 3 Episode 5 that I can’t stop thinking about…
[spoilers below cut]
The way Crosshair treats Omega like a peer.
This is so different from the way Wrecker, Echo, Tech, but specifically Hunter, ever treated Omega. To them, she’s still the little girl they rescued off Kamino. They know they’ve trained her to be capable; however, it is hard to separate their guileless little sister from the little warrior she’s become both with their squad and during her captivity on Tantiss.
Crosshair never knew or cared about little Omega, the child who’d never seen dirt before.
He’s only ever known and cared about this Omega. The Omega that insisted on building a relationship with him in spite of his trying to push her away for her own good. The Omega who refused to leave him behind at risk to herself. The Omega who can hold her own alongside him during a firefight. The Omega who can fly ships, bribe, and swindle. Crosshair has only known this Omega. Why would he treat her as anything but capable? He will absolutely protect her and have her back, but he will not doubt her abilities.
That’s not to say that the others doubt her abilities. I think they absolutely know what Omega is capable of, but that innate desire to protect the little thing she was has not dissolved just because Omega has grown…which is so true of real life. It’s authentic, and it's difficult and messy. And I love that the show is tackling this.
I also love that Crosshair knows this too. “Don’t hold it against him. He’s only worried about you,” he gently advises.
Which leads me into how I viewed Hunter’s behavior in Episode 5…
He doesn’t trust Crosshair. Why would he? The last time they interacted, Crosshair tried to force them to join the Empire of his own volition. He tried to have Omega forcibly removed from their protection. He chose the Empire over them. And then, they find out that Crosshair became a prisoner of the Empire, and their attempt to rescue Crosshair from his own choices resulted in Tech’s death and Omega’s capture. On top of that, what exactly did Crosshair do to get on the Empire’s bad side? Hunter doesn’t know. And Crosshair isn’t volunteering the information.
I also saw a bit of jealousy on Hunter’s part (although he probably doesn’t recognize it). While we as viewers know that Omega is trying to support Crosshair with his emotional and physical trauma, as well as getting him to communicate with Hunter and Wrecker. On the outside, Omega and Crosshair are almost inseparable, Omega seeking out Crosshair’s companionship (the brother that initiated a lot of the Batch’s heartbreak) rather than the brothers who have taken care of her all along. Gotta admit, I’d be pretty hurt by that too. Again, not at all Omega’s intent or fault that he feels this way, but it would be confusing and hurtful nonetheless.
Crosshair also senses this jealousy. (“Oh, don’t pretend like this is all about me…You’re angry because she escaped with my help, not yours.”) What Hunter doesn’t know is that Crosshair has supported Omega and Hunter’s relationship, not undermined it.
I really appreciated how Crosshair - while hurt by Hunter’s mistrust - does his best to prove himself trustworthy again (although hidden behind typical Crosshair snark). He’s broken his brothers’ trust, and he knows it has to be earned back.
Wrecker runs to hug Hunter and Crosshair after they make it back safely.
Wrecker is the only one of the Batch (besides Crosshair, obviously) who has been on both sides of the chip. He understands Hunter’s perspective and trepidation towards Crosshair; however, he also understands the guilt and fear that comes after being under the chip’s influence and nearly killing your family. While he was also confused and hurt by Crosshiar’s actions after the chip, Wrecker trusts Omega’s judgment. If Omega feels that Crosshair has changed, then Wrecker is not going to question it.
But he’s not going to pressure Hunter to the same conclusion, and he’s been Hunter’s support system for so long–and obviously, Crosshair already has a support system in Omega. Wrecker is going to let Hunter take the time he needs to trust Crosshair on his own terms…and I love that!
I felt that when Wrecker saw them coming back, he could tell they had worked out some of their hard feelings toward one another…and he was thrilled! That hug was more than just happy they made it back safe from facing a monster, but that they are on the path to making amends. Their family is healing. Not healed. There’s still hurts and wounds to work through, but healing.
And the way he embraces his two sullen brothers, smooshing them together so that they are also hugging each other by association…made me smile so big!
The way Echo acts as mediator between Hunter and Crosshair. (Also…ECHO FINALLY SHOWS UP!!)
Omega and Wrecker have been struggling trying to support both brothers while they work through their issues, and then there’s Echo saying, “You can kill each other later…focus!” Echo gets it. He knows they need to work things out on their own terms, in their own time. But first…mission!
Also, I loved how civilly he treats Crosshair when they meet again. Crosshair is 100% ready to receive a negative reaction, and when Echo simply snarks back at him like the good ol’ days, Crosshair is visibly surprised. Even Omega looks happy to see the positive interaction.
When Omega expresses how she wishes she could have done more for the other clones on Tantiss, Echo tells her she did the right thing escaping and getting the information she could to him and Rex…he is such a good and encouraging older brother! I love him!
Special mention goes to Crosshair and Batcher being buddies! The way Crosshair pats and pets her when Batcher comes up to him after they rescue Hunter out of the snow. And then Batcher plops down beside him and Crosshair keeps petting her. My little heart!
#the bad batch#star wars#tbb hunter#tbb omega#tbb crosshair#tbb wrecker#tbb echo#tbb spoilers#the bad batch season 3 spoilers#episode 5#the return#my thoughts on the character development
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| Hostage - Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader
Word count - 1.9K
Summary - When y/n is taken hostage because she is their combat analyst and knows a significant amount of information in regards to the 141, Ghost goes ballistic. Driven by fear and anger he locates you and is able to rescue you but the fear lingers and he struggles to wrestle his feelings back down.
Warnings/Tags - Violence and blood, allusions to a brief panic attack
A/N - I’m thinking of doing an epilogue to this but I’m really on the fence
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Ghost feared very little. Knew that very little could actually kill him, and even fewer people could do the same. He knew he wasn’t invincible, and someday his luck would run out. Someday his heart would stop, and his blood would run cold. He couldn’t run from the inevitable; thus, he welcomed death with open arms like one would an old friend. He didn’t have a death wish though. He was merely passive towards it. Sometimes he liked the thrill a brush with death gave him. It reminded him he was alive, that his heart did indeed beat like everyone else’s.
When it came to you, it was an entirely different story. The very idea of you being hurt, and dying, scared the shit out of him. The thought of you leaving him behind plagued him. Even in his sleep, nightmares of you taking your last breaths in his arms would force him from sleep. He’d spend the rest of the night watching you sleep, watching your chest rise and fall, feeling the heat radiating from your skin. He feared for the day he wasn’t able to protect you.
A day like today.
“Ghost,” Price spoke slowly and low like he was talking to a wide animal. Which wasn’t that far off, “We’ll get them back, we just need more information. We can’t run in there blind and deaf.”
Price might as well have been talking to a brick wall because all Ghost could hear was ringing. An incessant, grating sound that shrouded him from all sense and reason. He remained utterly silent, seeth in his own wrath. The wrath he was sure to bring down on everyone and anyone who stood in his way. The 141 was well aware of this and stood aside as Ghost stalked to the door, his shoulders rolled and taut ready for a fight. He had turned so wholly maniacal that even Soap was disturbed by the look in his eye and backed down. Ghost went AWOL, but the 141 provided as much support as they could. They were able to give him updates and new information over the radio, but they were never able to catch up with his unrelenting pace. Instead, they only stumbled over his messes. Their own anxiety and unease about the meaning behind it all grew. It was as if humanity abandoned him as he tracked—No. As he hunted down the men who took you, smelling their blood in the air and following the scent. Ghost spared no one. If someone wasn't giving him the information he’d slay them and move to the next. If the next person wasn’t giving him information fast enough they were executed.
When he finally located you, you were in a warehouse, he communicated back into the radio for the first time to tell the rest of the 141.
The captors had yet to start drawing blood, but only because they were trying a psychological approach. It had already been three hours. Three very long hours. You were a combat analyst, you weren’t a trained soldier like the 141. And you sure as hell wasn’t prepared for something like this. He didn’t let himself think too hard about the possibilities. He didn’t let himself think about the probability of finding you dead inside the warehouse. You had crucial information on the 141 that they wanted, and he could only hope that information was keeping you alive.
He slaughtered his way into the building, leaving nothing but carnage behind him. When he got visuals on you, alive, he nearly collapsed. Not completely unharmed though.
You were soaked from waterboarding. They had used ice-cold water, and somehow it was colder still. The big industrial fans hanging from the roof blew cool air, but it was only amplified tenfold for you. He could hear your shivering, see how your lips had turned a scary shade of blue. Your hair stuck to your face in wet clumps. Your hands were bound to a chair, your fingers curling into your palms in search of any warmth. Your eyes burned holes into whoever stood in front of you.
“Where. Are. The 141. Hiding?” Your captor asked again, the same question he’s been asking from the very beginning. He forced your head back, getting ready to place the towel. He hadn’t gotten anything out of you yet, but he could tell you were breaking.
You bit out a smile, although it was more of an act of you baring your teeth at him, “Go to hell,” Your teeth chattered, despite your best efforts. Before the captor could place to sopping towel back over your face he emerges.
It’s almost as if Ghost was made from the shadows themselves with the way he seems to materialize out of them. The way they clung to him. He couldn’t remember losing his handgun, but at some point, he’d resorted to knives.
You knew he wasn’t here for your blood but alarms and warnings went off in your very bones. They screamed, Danger! Danger!
Ghost was every bit his reputation at this moment. His eyes were wide and unseeing. His movements were swift and snappy like elastics were snapping in his limbs. He’d taken his time when he dragged the blade across the man's throat, wanting to keep him alive to feel every ounce of agony at his life quite literally drained from him.
The speed at which he moved in front of you almost made you think him inhuman. He uncuffed you and pulled you into his arms, squeezing you hard enough that you thought he was going to break bones. He was panting, almost unable to catch his breath. You could almost smell his fear; that and the blood that was surely hiding among the black dye of his clothes.
You repeatedly murmured, “I’m okay. I’m okay,” into his shoulder. Not sure if you were comforting him, or yourself. Both, you very quickly realized. As whatever came over him in those few hours of your life in danger, ebbed from his veins, he finally, finally returned to his body. Before it had felt like he was watching himself from outside his body, watching himself from someone else perceptive. Someone may have thought he wasn’t a mundane soldier, but a vessel for whatever god wished to experience true unchecked rage.
But he was human.
He felt true terror today, and his body was starting to feel the effects of it. He kept repeating, “I’m sorry,” like they were the only words he could remember. His body began to tremble uncontrollably, and his skin felt too tight and itchy. You let him hold you, let him feel your heartbeat against his.
The 141 arrived with a medic. Simon immediately stepped aside, allowing the professional to assess you. She’d immediately announced hypothermia and called for a medevac. She’d wrapped a reflective blanket around your shoulders and removed her own jacket and put it on top.
Once Simon was completely and utterly sure you were in good hands, he’d stumbled to the wall, choosing a spot where he was obscured from your view. Everyone’s view. He’d fallen to his knees then, his strength leaving him. They cracked against the concrete, but he welcomed the sharp pain. He’d lifted his mask and thrown up.
It had been a long, long while since he’d had a reaction like this. Where panic and hysteria claimed him. Guilt and self-loathing suffocated him. Filled his chest, and bubbled up into his throat.
He let this happen. He wasn’t careful enough. He got too comfortable.
And this was the result.
It was his fault.
His fault. His fault. His fault.
He clenched his jaw, fighting back hot tears. He leaned his back against the wall, rested his arms on his knees, and let his head hang between his legs. If circumstances were different he would have crawled into the safety of your arms and begged you to make this feeling stop. To make it go away. It was a selfish thought, he knew that. Knew that you were one who needed comfort and reassurance right now. Knew that you needed him just as much, but he didn’t want you to see this. For if you looked into his eyes, you’d be faced with the reality that he truly had had no idea what to do. He came looking with no plan and hardly any direction. He’d once again gotten lucky by following breadcrumbs and whispers to find you.
He almost lost you.
You were alive, yes, but what if he’d come an hour later? A minute?
The 141 knew where he was. Had watched him as he melted back into the shadows, but respected Simon’s silent request for solitary. They understood that he needed to wade through these emotions on his own and that no matter what they said or did wasn’t going to fix it.
When he heard the familiar sound of a chopper overhead he forced himself to collect himself. Allowing himself 10 more seconds before remasking, and finding you. The medic and Price were escorting you to the front doors.
“Simon,” Soap appeared at his side, Ghost jerked his attention to him, “There is nothing you could have done differently.”
He didn’t say anything, but his silence was enough for Soap to understand that he disagreed. With that, he made his way over to you taking Price’s place at your side.
You were still shaking but you held your head high with your shoulders squared. Simon could have cried at the sight. To see you were defiant in the face of it all was enough to ease the tiniest bit of worry from his shoulders. He knew you weren’t totally unaffected and it was going to take you years to repair the damages, but here you were walking out of this building on your own two feet.
The medic tried to tell him he couldn’t come with but he downright refused to leave you, “Try and tell me no.”, and she must have known immediately she wasn’t going to win because she let him in anyway.
He held your hand in his the entire flight to the nearest hospital, eyes darting about. He stayed at your side the entire time you were in the hospital too. He slept in the chair beside your bed, or at least pretended to until you drifted off into sleep, but was wide awake and alert for the rest of the night. Only leaving when Soap came for a visit the next day with clothes for him, telling him he’d take the next shift. Simon changed and came right back to the room. Only this time when he sat in the chair with the hood of his sweater pulled over his head, did he sleep. Finding some solace in knowing Soap was here too.
Tomorrow he was going to have a meeting with Price about his insubordination. And about the ramage he went on. Tomorrow he was going to have to tell Price about how he’d completely lost himself, didn’t even remember half of it.
Epilogue
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A/N - Price isn’t mad, he’s worried
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley drabble#simon ghost riley angst#cod x reader#cod fanfic#cod ghost#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod x y/n#mw2 x reader#ghost mw2#mw2#MistyGhosties
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You the oneshot where the reader didn't have a choice until batfam rescued him . I kinda want to see the batfam reactions to the thighs he didn't get to experience like chocolate, cartoons and a birthday that shocked them the most and what's even worse is that readers handler just sends him to a very difficult mission like a deserted island to fend for himself on his birthday which reader didn't know about
Aww, some family fluff... You got it my dear anon. Also, the request season has started.
Summary: (Y/N) told his family about his lack of experience with usual stuff. Even more with his birthday. Absolutely no one is having it.
Batfamily & male!reader, PART 2, PART 3,
Warnings: Fluff, family wants to kill someone, mentions of missions from (Y/N)'s past.
After saving (Y/N) from his handler, it was obvious that he didn't... Indulge in certain things as any normal kids would. Sure, Damian didn't too, considering his upbringing, but (Y/N) was on a whole another level of not knowing anything.
It started with chocolate. Alfred has made some chocolate cake out of nowhere and he called the others down to eat if they wanted too. Of course, everyone would do so. I mean, who wouldn't want to try Alfred's delicious creations?
Everyone jumped at the news, basically pushing each others out of the way. (Y/N) didn't understand why they would do it. It's just food. He walked in confused, sitting down. He frowned at the sight of a chocolate cake.
" What's wrong (Y/N)? " Bruce asked, digging into the sugary delight.
" I never had anything with chocolate before. I wasn't allowed to have sugar. " (Y/N) confessed and Jason nearly choked on his piece.
" No. " Jason said, in complete and utter disbelief. Everyone glanced at (Y/N), also shocked that he has never had sugar. Of any kind probably.
" How about you try it? " Bruce prompted and Alfred put a chocolate cake in front of (Y/N). He took a fork and put it in his mouth and everyone saw how gingerly he tried it.
It seemed he liked it by the way his eyes widened and the way he relaxed.
" Do you like it? " Bruce asked, clearly already knowing the answer.
" I think I would like a second slice. " (Y/N) admitted and Alfred smiled widely. It's a win and progress. (Y/N) is never the one to voice what he wants and making him explicitly say what he wants is like pulling teeth.
" Of course master (Y/N), but I'm afraid you can't have more than two per day. " Alfred said, already putting some rules down.
" Okay. " (Y/N) said. Bruce decided to put some rules down because rules are all he knows. But they were very relaxed rules. Such as at least 8 hours of sleep, some exercise and a healthy amount of vegetables.
(Y/N) is kind of afraid of Alfred. He saw that Alfred is the one to not mess with and he respected it.
(Y/N) stayed silent as he ate. Bruce already a mental note to buy more sweets for (Y/N) to try.
After the whole cake fiasco, everyone decided to help (Y/N) experience some actual fragments of childhood. So what do they decide to do?
Cartoon marathon.
Jason wanted to watch South Park because he knows (Y/N) will love it. It's pure satire and Jason loved it. Whenever he could catch some free time, he would watch it and it would take a national emergency to stop.
And that's why Jason is leading (Y/N) to the living room.
" What is South Park even? " (Y/N) asked as he entered the living room, quickly moving to his spot.
" One of the best cartoons ever made. " Jason simply said and (Y/N) shook his head.
" It's pure satire. " Dick elaborated and (Y/N) nodded in understanding. (Y/N) liked satire. He considered himself to be a sarcastic person, more so now when he lived with the Waynes. Damian and (Y/N) just communicated via sarcasm and it was fun.
They started from the first episode and (Y/N) chuckled quietly. Everyone turned their heads. Holy shit. It's a beautiful sound too, coming from (Y/N). When they make him laugh properly, they are going to commemorate it once it happens.
" What? " (Y/N) asked, looking at the all.
" You have an adorable laugh. " Jason explained and (Y/N) turned his head away. He didn't want them to see his blush. Nobody has ever told him that. There was never any type of affection from his handler. If he got a 'good job', he could consider it the best praise.
After months of digging, Bruce found (Y/N)'s birthday. Bruce is definitely going to brag about this for the years to come. And he found out just in time. It's going to be in a few days and they wanted to surprise (Y/N).
(Y/N) is observant by nature and keeping this surprise as a secret is not an easy feat. Bruce could see that (Y/N) was already suspicious, especially with the way everyone brushes him off with the exact same excuses and some times they distract him with sparring, cases and all in all just stupid things.
Alfred made a chocolate cake, now (Y/N)'s favorite and the others got him some things that they thought that (Y/N) would like. Jason had a major task of bringing (Y/N) to the dining room.
They all waited with the stuff, knowing that (Y/N) wouldn't like sudden surprise and sudden noise. (Y/N) stopped as he took in the sight of a cake with candles on them.
" Happy birthday. " Bruce said, with a smile on his face.
" What? " (Y/N) asked quietly and their faces fell.
" You never had a birthday before? " Dick asked, feeling sad for (Y/N).
" Not really. I was usually sent on missions during that time. The last one was spent on a deserted island. " (Y/N) said, shuddering at the mere memory of the mission. Bruce walked towards (Y/N) and brought him into his own embrace.
" From now on, we are going to replace all of those memories with some more precious ones. Okay? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) felt something warm in his core. Something that he has never felt before.
Everyone agreed with Bruce, joining in on the hug. (Y/N) never liked to be touched, but he has grown to like it with the others. They weren't abrasive with it and Dick was the most touchy one, he understood his boundaries.
" Can I eat the cake now? " (Y/N) asked, squished in between all of them. Everyone chuckled at the suggestion and let go of (Y/N). The celebration went by without a hitch and it was filled with smiles, even from members who don't smile to much.
#dc comics#dc x male reader#x male reader#batfamily#bruce wayne x male reader#jason todd x male reader#batkids#batman x male reader#red hood x male reader#damian wayne x male reader#robin x male reader#tim drake x male reader#red robin x male reader#dick grayson x male reader#nightwing x male reader
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Halloween prompts no 28
Danny dropped his pencil when the door slammed open and a very angry vigilante pointed a finger at him, "YOU!"
The class around him started to chatter, wondering what was happening.
Voice raising an octave he answered dumbly, "Me?!"
"You didn't show up for the wedding!"
If the room full of teenagers were curious before they were nearly howling now. Fenton of all people is dating a potential superhero?! Marrying even?!
Standing up from his seat he grabbed his backpack, "I never agreed to the wedding!"
"Yes you did! I asked for your hand and you agreed!"
Danny thought back to when he and Robin first fought and he barely managed to hold his own, "I thought you were helping me up!"
"You will wed me as you agreed! Even if I have to challenge you for it!" Uh oh. Quick Fenton come up with something or you're gonna be a Wayne soon.
"Forced marriage is illegal in America!" Really brain? That's what you came up with???
"Then we will have the wedding in 'Eth Alth'eban!" Danny didn't even know what that was.
"Thats not the point!" Danny was acutely aware of all the eyes in the room, even Mr. Lancer seemed thoroughly enthralled by the scene that was unfolding. Which is just another reason why he needed to escape. He opened the window he had been edging toward since the start of this argument and flung himself out of it, ignoring the horrified screams of his classmates. He landed two stories down in the flowerbed and ran towards the football fields. Damian knew about Dannys powers, but that didn't mean he couldn't be deceived.
Damian followed after soon enough, leaving the class to explode with theories as to whats happening. Mr. Lancer took this moment to get back to what he was teaching by connecting it to what just happened and making them write a "short" story of a minimum 5 pages of what they thought happened here.
In reality Mr Lancer was an English literature major. Loving a good story came with the territory and oh boy did he need to know this story. Even if it was essentially just fanfiction from his students.
Theories run rampant throughout the school about what the truth was. Paulina even goes on a mushy gushy speel about The hero perhaps being a prince (technically true) that fell in love with Fenton (true), got Fenton to accidentally agree to a marriage proposal (true) and followed him here from his homeland to pursue his hand in marriage (also true)
The fact that Danny was constantly forced to use his powers in human form while being chased by his "fiance" was setting off every upgraded ghost alarm they came near, leading everyone to think Robin was a ghost. (Not true)
The Fenton parents go nuts when they find out a "ghost prince/ghost superhero no 2" was chasing thier son around and went to rescue him. Danny threatens to never forgive Robin if he kills his parents so birdy has to hold back.
Danny gets trapped in a ghost cage for a while as Fenton for his own good, gets told off by his parents as Phantom telling him they don't have time for him right now. Danny is both touched and offended. Even as thier top priority he's thrown onto the backburner. The chase ends with Robin carrying an unconscious Danny in a bridal carry into the Fenton portal while the camera in the lab livestreams it for all to see courtesy of a few tech nerds hacking
Tucker and Sam had been running interference all day and were exhausted. They were lucky Dannys secret was still safe.
Aka: Dannys Unfortunate Supernatural Romance from the Perspective of his Classmates
Do they follow them through the portal? Yes, but they have to corner Jazz, Sam and Tucker into letting them into the spector speeder under threat of snitching.
No one is allowed to ask why they're following a boomerang through the undead dimension.
#danny fenton#fanfiction prompts#prompts#danny phantom#dp x dc#robin#damian wayne#damian wayne x danny fenton#dead serious#danny is scared and frustrated#he is ok with dating but this is going too fast#damian is racing through the manor with an unconscious danny#damian: behold father! this is your new son!#bruce: you adopted someone FOR me???#damain: >:( no father i am getting married to him#chaos ensues#elderich comedy#disturbing themes#dub con#but for marriage??#not sure how to tag this
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okayyyy so now i need an entire DD fantasy au…
peach, every piece of your writing is like freshly baked bread, and i am a starving peasant. you are my god.
dead disco is eating my brain.
- 🧟♀️
🧟♀️ Anon is referencing this. Same. I wish I had more time to write, I could totally take this and run with it. 🖤 🖤 I will feed you as much bread as I can.
“What- what’re you going to do with me?” You try to brace your voice with strength, bravery, anything to try to hide the truth, disguise the fear that has your hands shaking in your dress.
“We’re takin ye home, Princess.” You gape at the Highlander, the one who Introduced himself as Johnny. He tightens the girth on a sweet, sorrel pony, who nickers at you softly.
“But I am home.” You gesture to the castle that lurks behind you, and Ghost scoffs.
“You belong to us, darling. And that-“ he points at the gate. “Wasn’t much a home for you, now was it?” The image of your father being hacked to pieces by the violent stroke of his sword rips across your mind, and you shudder.
“Alright. Shall we?” Johnny motions to the pony, and you blanch.
“I don’t ride.” Your stomach knots, twisting up more than you thought possible, after everything. “I don’t- I’ve always taken a carriage.” They exchange a look, some sort of silent communication passing between the two, a deep connection that somehow manages to make you feel like an intruder, even those these are the two who ransacked your land and killed your father.
“Ye’ll ride with me then.” Johnny tells you gently, bending with a palm forward.
“I-“ The protest is in vain, and you know it. There’s no one here, to come to your rescue, no one to save you. Your own home is drenched in blood.
“Up ye get.” His hand hovers in the air by your knee, encouraging you to use it as a step, you think. But no, surely not? He couldn’t… support you. With one hand. You stand on indecision, looking from him, to the horse, to the ground. “Darling.” He murmurs softly, gentle under his breath.
It’s time.” Ghost calls, hoisting himself up onto a massive, shiny black horse that stands double your height, if not more.
“Princess.” Johnny urges. “Dinnae make me force ye onto the horse.” He’s serious, and you gulp against the cold wind that whips through your bones.
Only a few hours in, and you’re in agony. Your body is soft, not conditioned for long rides or hunts, muscles soft and skin nearly silk. Every step the horse makes feels like it may knock you off balance, bones in your back screaming at you with each jostle. Johnny tries to hold you steady, keeping you close to him, pressed to his chest, but it does little to help your discomfort. He steadies you with a hand on your hip, slowly sliding around to press against your lower belly, shifting you back into the shelter of his body, his warmth.
“Ye alright?” He murmurs into your ear, tucking your cloak tighter around your shoulders. “Ye’re shivering.”
“It’s cold.” You whisper, not even sure if he can hear you. He rubs your upper arm, squeezing it to try to work blood flow back into your skin.
“Ay.” He yells to Ghost, who’s in front, and they both pull up short. The black horse moves frighteningly quick alongside you, and Ghost studies your stricken expression intently behind the mask.
“Let’s get her into town. We can stop at the Inn for the night.” He tells Johnny, who pulls you tighter into his body.
“It’s about another hour, Darling. Think ye can make it?”
“It’s not safe, camping in these woods.” Ghost supplies as an explanation gently, and you nod.
“O-okay.”
“Good girl.”
At the end of the hour, you’re on the verge of tears. It’s frigid, you’re stiff in the saddle, legs and back and everything uncooperative, thigh muscles completely raw from trying to hold your seat.
“Easy now.” Johnny coos when he slips down, trying to encourage you to swing your leg over and follow his lead. When you try, a whimper slips free between your lips, and his brows crease in concern.
“I can’t.”
“Oh, darling.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you down into his chest, and you stifle a pained moan, face pressing into the warmth of his cloak. “Let’s get ye inside, out of the cold.” He holds you with ease, tucking you tighter amidst the little whimpers that are still slipping from your chattering teeth.
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i cannot stare at this document any longer it's 5.1k words, here she is, per request of @thisisew
cw for major character death (kind of) and ascended astarion and durge being Generally Kind Of Fucked Up I don't think anything is excessive but they're not good people
He adored having you at his side - his precious little attack dog. He soothed your bloodlust, sating it as often as he could. There was no shortage of those who wanted to get in the way of his plans for the city of Baldur's Gate. He was happy to let you curb your hunger for violence on his political rivals.
Every so often though, things required a more thoughtful touch. He could just send you out with a name and a vague description and you'd be off like a shot. A few days later they would find a mangled corpse and blame it on the cult of Bhaal that still lingered beneath the city.
No, someone like this, someone this important needed a special touch. You deserved time to plan this one, to savor it. Part of him wished he could go with you to watch but he knew staying away was the easiest way to keep his hands clean. He knew you were more than capable of carrying out horrors all on your own.
Things couldn't have been more perfect. After surviving nearly two centuries of a living nightmare, Astarion felt he deserved nothing less than perfection. He had suffered so long, worked so hard, he had earned this.
He stood on a balcony of the former palace Szarr, basking in the sunlight that poured over the city - his city. He had killed the local vampire lord, freed the city from the clutches of a tyrannical bastard, and rescued the universe from the devastating power of the Nether Brain. He had everything he wanted and he was adored.
More than power, fame, or freedom, one obsession had gripped his heart in a way nothing ever had before. His dearest treasure, Chosen of Bhaal. You had sunk your claws into the very essence of his being. He needed you, craved you, claimed you.
The two of you worked in tandem, like a well oiled machine. His silver tongue and nimble fingers meant he could get most things he wanted. What he couldn't get his way could, more often than not, be solved your way.
He adored having you at his side - his precious little attack dog. He soothed your bloodlust, sating it as often as he could. There was no shortage of those who wanted to get in the way of his plans for the city of Baldur's Gate. He was happy to let you curb your hunger for violence on his political rivals.
Every so often though, things required a more thoughtful touch. He could just send you out with a name and a vague description and you'd be off like a shot. A few days later they would find a mangled corpse and blame it on the cult of Bhaal that still lingered beneath the city.
No, someone like this though, someone this important needed a special touch. You deserved time to plan this one, to savor it. Part of him wished he could go with you to watch but he knew staying away was the easiest way to keep his hands clean. He knew you were more than capable of carrying out horrors all on your own.
He couldn't wait to tell you about your next target, it had really been such a long time coming. He was sure you'd be thrilled and he couldn't wait to see the sparkle in your eyes. Surely you were around here somewhere, he just had to find you.
Astarion turned on his heel, striding calmly back inside to search for his little love. It hardly even surprised him this time as he suddenly found himself with a dagger against his throat as soon as he had stepped out of the light.
"Darling, we really must work on your greetings." He purred, tipping his head back to glance at you
Your other hand wrapped around him to cup his jaw, fingers trailing delicately over his porcelain skin. "You don't like it?" You pressed the dagger just a bit firmer against his neck. "I can hardly stand it. Gods, I want to split your throat open and watch you bleed for me." You cooed, your grip on the hilt shifting as you struggled to resist the flame in you that ached endlessly, just yearning to hear your love's final breath.
But not yet. Not yet.
The threats that spilled from your lips sounded sweet as sugar to Astarion. He knew your hunger, knew that you meant every word. More than that, he knew your desperate longing to spill his blood was born of a twisted blend of the terrible love of death you held and the wonderful, perfect love the two of you shared.
Every prick of blood drawn with your dagger that was tenderly kissed away was as good as a love letter to him. He didn't mind when your fingers would find their way to his throat, trembling with the willpower it took not to crush his windpipe. It all felt like the most sincere displays of love and trust he could possibly dream of.
"Not today, pet." He wrapped a hand delicately around your wrist as you let him pull the dagger away from his throat. "I have something special I'd like to ask of you."
"Anything." You pressed in close to him, weapon still held tight as you rested both hands against his chest.
"I want you to destroy Wyll Ravenguard."
~*~*~
Your mind had spun with so many possibilities. Wyll had been such a good friend through your journey along the Sword Coast. He had attempted to comfort you in the times before your mind fully returned to you. When you rebelled against the violence that was etched into your very soul.
He was so kind, people loved him. He didn't deserve to die, and that made it so much sweeter. His death had to be perfect, you decided. You wanted it to be intimate and personal. A murder hand tailored just for your dear friend.
Of course, he hadn't stuck by your side once he had realized that his peaceful ways had no claim to the life you chose to lead with your beloved. You understood, of course. Not everyone could grasp the way murder was truly just an act of worship. After all, if everyone was a murderer, there could be no innocent victims and that would never do.
What sort of death was befitting someone like Wyll? Not only someone of such status, but someone so personally dear to you? Poison would be nice. Perhaps you could invite him to dinner. You could prepare something special, something that would have him frothing at the mouth before succumbing to the toxin.
No, no, that was far too unbecoming for someone as lovely as Wyll. Perhaps you could gut him? It would be so intimate but you didn't really want to hear him scream. It was so violent, so feral, such an ungraceful way for the son of the Grand Duke to die.
You wanted it to be soft, personal. You wanted to wrap your fingers around his beautiful neck and squeeze. Your hands twitched with your desire to feel his pulse fade under your touch. You could take him out for an evening stroll, a chance to catch up.
If you had to, you could lie about needing his help. Wouldn't that be sweet? "Oh Wyll, I'm a monster. I need help but I'm so frightened of what Astarion might say." The Blade of Frontiers surely wouldn't be able to help himself. You could almost picture the look of betrayal in his eyes already.
Yes, that was it. Lure Wyll out with a sob story, begging for his help. Then, crush the life out of him as the shock set in. Maybe if you were very lucky he'd die with your betrayal written in his eyes. It was perfect.
It was supposed to be perfect, anyway.
~*~*~
You were late. It wasn't all that concerning, not at first anyway. Astarion had expected you back within three hours. That was the time frame you gave him. Long ago, he'd learned to give you an extra hour as you seemed to be such a truly awful judge of time when you had your hands in your victims innards.
Even your extra hour was up now, though. Suddenly, his mind began to race with the worst possible scenarios. There was no way Wyll could've overpowered you. Unless he got lucky. Unless he struck first? Why would he do that, you were supposed to be lying to him?
So then where could you be? He had already resolved that the two of you would have to talk about your ability to stick within a time frame. Four hours was more than enough time to strangle someone to death. If he found out you lost track of time carving poems into Wyll's skin, he was going to be furious.
Every second that ticked by without you felt like a lifetime now. He had to go find you, he couldn't sit here anymore. What if something had gone horribly wrong and he was just twiddling his thumbs.
He practically sprinted towards the front door, only stopping short when it creaked open in front of him. He stopped on a dime as he watched you take a few, shaky steps into the palace before collapsing.
In an instant, he was at your side. He slammed the door shut behind you, barking orders to nearby spawn to get you medicine, bandages, healing potions, anything.
He bundled you into his arms, tenderly but with a near feral desperation. Dried blood stained your face, your nose was absolutely broken. You'd been stabbed multiple times and the entire right side of your body was scorched.
The way you crumpled to the ground, unable to even bask in the agony of your own wounds, something was horribly wrong. “My love… precious little love, what happened?”
He ever so tenderly cupped your jaw as you groaned quietly in pain. You squinted up at him, his eyes were so worried and you were in far too much misery to dream about plucking them from his skull. “He didn't come alone…”
An ambush? Astarion's grip on you tightened just a bit as a wave of anger coursed through his body. He had known what your plan was, what should've happened. Wyll hadn't trusted you, he didn't believe you. Of course, he was right not to, but that didn't make Astarions blood boil any less. “Who else was there?”
One of the spawn returned with a healing potion that he brought to your lips before you could respond. It wasn't much, but it was enough to dull some of the ache. You'd taken several blasts of force magic to the chest, you knew many of your ribs were broken. Definitely your sternum, you hoped he had more options that could mend that break.
“Gale.” You mumbled, blinking up at your darling. “Shadowheart, Karlach, Halsin, Lae’zel. I could've handled two or three but… six. Like he gathered everyone he possibly could…”
Wyll hadn't trusted you an inch, that was obvious. How disappointing. Another spawn arrived with more healing items that he gently administered. “Tell me what happened, darling.” He clearly had no intention of moving you just yet, he was so worried. You could practically smell the fear radiating off him.
It wasn't the same fear you craved. You craved the fear of death. The panic and knowledge that they were about to die always felt like an aphrodisiac to you. It was different when someone was afraid of someone else dying. Especially now that it was targeted at you, by your sweetest love, you could confidently say you didn't care for it.
“I thought it was perfect. He was listening, he seemed so genuine. I cried and begged him for his help, I don't know if he actually believed me.” You winced as Astarion gently started to wipe some of the blood from your face. “The instant I touched him I got a fire bolt to the chest. They swarmed like pathetic little rats.”
“Calm, darling. You need rest, you need to stay still.” His voice was even and measured. It was too perfect, you knew he was barely concealing a seething rage underneath that voice.
“They were going to kill me. Me. After everything I did for them, everything we did together. They all wanted to kill me.” The hypocrisy was not lost on you. You were there to kill Wyll after everything the two of you had been through. It was one thing for you to have murder on the mind, another thing entirely for the bleeding hearts of your ‘friends.’
“I barely managed to slip into the shadows. I could hear them hunting me still, though. I had to practically drag myself back here.” You were angry, so angry. It was supposed to be perfect. You had wanted so, so terribly badly to hear Wyll's dying breath escape his beautiful lips.
You felt Astarion move, gently and slowly, until he had his arms under you, scooping you up bridal style. You often forgot just how strong his ascension had made him, he held you with all the same effort one might hold a cat. Like you were practically nothing in his arms.
“You need to rest, my pet.” You could feel his hands trembling as he held you tight. His undead heart raced in his chest and you didn't even have the energy to fantasize about ripping it out. Rest sounded so nice.
Failing a hunt was always devastating but this was something else. You had been so excited, you never considered the possibility that Wyll would be smart enough to bring backup. You'd relied so heavily on his desire to be a hero, you really expected him to believe your sob story.
Before you knew it, your love has whisked you away to your bedroom, tucking you securely into the comfortable sheets. He sat beside you, gently brushing your hair for a moment as he watched you situate yourself and your broken body. “I'm sorry.”
You didn't expect an apology, that was interesting. “For what?”
“I should've gone with you. We should've been smarter about this and now- now look at you. They could've killed you. Tossed your corpse in the Chionthar, I would've had no way to get you back.” His eyes were dark and angry but you could see his concern written plainly behind them. He was terrified.
“I should be the one apologizing…” you wanted to reach out and grab his hand but your whole body felt so heavy. “I failed. Now they all know he's your target, we won't get another chance. And who knows what they might say.”
“They won't say anything.”
“How can you-”
“I'm going to destroy them. Every last one, understand? I'm so sorry, darling, I know how badly you want to end them but you need to rest. Please.”
“Astarion, you can't go out there, they're still going to be on high alert. They're probably closing in on the palace as we speak. There's still only one of you and six of them. I know they didn't burn all their resources on me, you can't.”
You understood his urge to kill, more than anyone in the world. Your heart broke in your chest with the knowledge that Wyll would survive the night. You had been so eager for his blood, you truly couldn't have imagined the night going this way.
In retrospect, one of you should've guessed that he wouldn't trust you. You should've been prepared for this. You were getting sloppy and that simply wouldn't do.
You tried to push yourself up a bit, fighting a losing battle against Astarion's firm hand on your shoulder that held you down. “Astarion, if you're going to go, you have to take me with you, if we're together-”
“No.” His voice was stern despite the concern that was woven through it. “You're in no state to be doing anything right now.”
“And you will die if you go out there now.” You reached out to grab his hand, staring at him, eyes wide with worry. “Please, please, I'd go mad if anything happened to you, I beg you don't do this. I'm sorry I failed you, please don't go out there.”
Astarion knew your words held a double meaning that made you far more desperate to keep him at your side. You didn't want him to go out because it was dangerous and you couldn't imagine your life without him. More than that, though, he knew if anyone else ended his life you would raze Baldurs Gate to the ground.
One day, far off in the future, he knew you would be the one to end him. You didn't have a plan, it wasn't going to be any time in the next few centuries at least. His blood belonged to you, though, as much as you belonged to him. He was going to be your magnum opus one day, he had to survive.
Leaving Wyll alive meant that he could spread rumors that you had tried to kill him. Your status in the city was… complicated. Some people revered you as a hero along with the others, some believed you were the head of the cult of Bhaal that still ravaged the city. Others still believed you were dead, that every claimed sighting of you was just another person.
None of them were entirely true, no one knew who you really were. You had helped save the city. You were important to Bhaal’s cult. You certainly weren't dead. You liked how vague it all was, it meant you could get away with things. But if Wyll was going to out you, things were going to change. Especially if he outed Astarion in the process.
Your friends knew how close the two of you were. They knew you were, together, something worth fearing. There was no doubt in your mind that one of the six people that had tried to kill you would spill this story. It would probably be in bold print on the Gazette tomorrow.
“You didn't fail me, my love.” He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your head, breaking off the frustration and panic running through your mind. “I'll stay.”
~*~*~
He did stay, at least for a while. Just long enough for you to fall asleep. He knew you were exhausted, your body needed time to recover. You'd be out cold for hours.
Astarion stalked through the halls of the palace with an aura of malice that frightened each spawn and servant he passed. Everyone saw the flame in his eyes and no one dared to interrupt him.
How dare they? Who did they think they were? To attempt to take you away from him? They should've known better, they should've known that Astarion wouldn't stand for it.
They knew how much he loved you, were they stupid? They tried to kill you, like they didn't think it would bring the wrath of the vampire ascendant. He was going to destroy every last one of them. Did they not know you were his? Did they not realize the power he wielded?
Every second that passed by flooded his mind with images of your broken, injured body. The way they all seemed to have gotten a strike in on your beautiful, delicate skin. As though they had any right to touch you - any right to look at you.
His mind raced with “what if’s.” If you hadn’t managed to get away, if your wounds had been any worse - might he have lost you for good? At the hands of people who had once claimed to be his friends, your friends.
The idea of losing you was enough to drive him mad. His pulse raced as his attention honed in solely on making them suffer for what they had done to you. He couldn’t survive without his darling, he needed you like oxygen. He was obsessed, he knew that, he didn’t care. He had earned the right to be obsessed and now these people were threatening everything he had worked so hard for - suffered so long for. He wouldn’t stand for it.
He tossed open the ornate front doors to his palace, calmly striding out and down the steps with his arms folded casually behind his back. In his eyes, though, there was a dark malice that shone in the moonlight. “Wyll Ravenguard.” He called out, into the night. His voice was even, betraying only a hint of the rage he felt. “No use hiding, I’m sure you’ve all found your way here by now. We can discuss this like civilized adults.”
A moment passed as his voice faded away into the night air. Then a response. “The time to discuss anything has passed, Astarion.” Wyll stepped out of the shadows, blade readied. “You sent your attack dog to murder me in the streets, there’s nothing civilized about this.”
As he spoke, the others emerged into the moonlit courtyard, each prepared to strike. “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken this as a personal offense, Wyll. You are, unfortunately, a rather big obstacle in my plans for the city. I’m sure you understand, I’ve got nothing against you, personally. You simply hold a tragically high title. I know you’re no stranger to political turmoil.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Karlach spoke up, adjusting her grip on the battleax she wielded. “So the fuck what if it’s political or personal, you tried to kill him.”
Astarion sighed, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “And you tried to kill my pet.” He bit back a grin at the revulsion that radiated off some of your former companions at his choice of words. “We've all made mistakes tonight.”
He was so calm for someone surrounded by powerful, angry warriors. He remained unfazed as they slowly closed in around him as well. “She’s too dangerous to live.” Gale spoke as he stepped closer to the vampire, hands sparking with potential magic. “Especially being wielded as your weapon.”
“And she is such an effective one too, isn't she? Well, when she isn't being betrayed, it seems.” He threw a pointed grin at Wyll.
“Betrayed? Because I'm not a gods damned idiot, I'm the betrayer?” Wyll retorted, bitterly. “I wanted to trust her. Gods, do you have any idea how hopeful I was that she genuinely wanted my help? I would've forgiven her in an instant, but I'm no fool, Astarion. Even if it had been genuine it would've taken a serious lapse of judgment to find myself alone with a Bhaalspawn at all.”
Astarion just tutted softly, looking back at him like this was all just some kind of silly game they were playing. “It's a shame, the Bhaalspawn would've killed you kinder than I will. At least with my darling, murder is such a passion. I, meanwhile, want to rip into you with my bare hands and turn you inside out for threatening to take my love from me. Do you understand that? Who you're fucking with?” His calm demeanor was starting to slip as his barely contained rage was bubbling to the surface.
Wyll seemed to recognize this, holding one hand up in defense, though the other kept his blade readied. “You're right, this is political. I don't exactly want to cause a power vacuum in the under city. I don't want to kill you or her. We were friends, once. We all were. But hasn’t she caused enough carnage?”
“What?”
“I can be quick. This doesn't have to be messy. You can't be stupid, Astarion, she wants to kill you just as badly as she wants to love you. One day it's going to be you on the receiving end of her bloodlust. We could end it now, though. Rid Bhaal of another chosen, scatter the cult. Hells, I'll let you claim it, add another notch to your fake hero belt.”
Astarion stared at him for a moment, taking in the offer that had just been laid on the table. Had he been a more sensible man, more reasonable, less utterly obsessed with you, perhaps he could've seen the logic in such an argument.
He wasn't a reasonable man, though. Instead, his eyes darkened with a fury that shocked Wyll into taking a small step back. “You're kidding? Right, you're joking? To attack my love and show up on my doorstep to demand I hand her over to be slaughtered?
“You think I don't know how badly she wants to destroy me? She spends every day itching to bleed me dry and yet, here I stand. Every morning I wake up to her sleeping peacefully beside me, it's just like falling in love again. I am her number one target and she chooses every day to spare me. I would sooner rend the fabric of reality apart than hand her over to you.”
Before he had even finished speaking, the magic that built around Gale erupted. A blue streak of lightning lit the night around them as the wizard loosed the first blow, nearly catching Astarion off guard. Nearly.
A moment before the lightning could connect, Astarion vanished. He reappeared behind Gale, lodging his dagger squarely between his ribs and twisting as he leaned in close. “You forget who you're dealing with, here. I am a fucking god.”
He shoved Gale forward, sending him crumpling to the ground. Shadowheart lunged forward, already channeling a prayer. She was stopped dead in her tracks with a snap from the vampire, however. “I suggest you reconsider.” He smirked as she straightened up, her prayer morphing and twisting. The healing energy that had been building around her coalesced into a deadly bolt of light that streaked towards the unconscious mage.
As Gale stilled underneath Astarion, the rest of the party came to life, all brandishing their weapons with the intent of taking down the vampire lord in his own courtyard. How quaint.
Their attacks narrowly avoided him, catching him not nearly as often as he struck them. Despite their best efforts, they were facing down an enemy that held more power than they could ever hope for. He wasn't truly a god, he had only a few dedicated worshipers but they could more accurately be called fanatics. Regardless, his power could rival some lesser gods.
It was different than facing down a Chosen. Power gifted to an avatar was nothing compared to what came from a gods own hand. Maybe if there had been a few more of them, perhaps if he hadn't taken out their wizard instantly, maybe they would've stood a chance.
He wasnt sure when it happened, at some point Shadowheart and Halsin disappeared. A tactical retreat or simply fleeing a fight they knew they couldn't win. It didn't matter, he could hunt them down later.
There was a feral part of him that so rarely got to see the light of day. Somewhere deep and dark in whatever remained of his soul. These kills didn't need to be clean. Perhaps, he thought, as he buried his claws into Lae’zel’s stomach, grabbing and ripping out what he could. Perhaps Gale had gotten off too easy.
Should he revive him after all this? He was so smart, he could be a useful spawn. Maybe he could even be a little gift to you. Your own little toy to torment as you pleased.
Karlach dropped to the ground, the rage and adrenaline that had been powering her through the multiple deep wounds she'd received finally giving out on her. That was all right, she could bleed out, Astarion didn't mind. Now he could turn all his attention back to Wyll.
The man stood before Astarion, despite sustaining several injuries. He still held his sword tightly, though it wavered ever so slightly. He didn't speak, his face was awash with countless emotions.
“Are you going to be a hero, Wyll? Stay and fight bravely until the bitter end? A stupid, pointless fight that's already killed two of your precious friends. And seems to be working it's magic on a third.” He nodded towards Karlach, still breathing heavy, still clinging to life.
Astarion had taken a few solid hits, he wasn't doing exceptionally well, but he was still faring much better than his old friend. “You don't have to be a hero.” He continued, watching him calmly as his wounds slowly knitted back together. “In fact, take her. Run. Go and survive and live to fight another day. You're no good to the coast dead, Mr. Frontiers.”
Wyll stared at him, eyes flicking to Karlach for just a moment. “I'm not an idiot, as soon as I turn my back you'll be on me.”
“Oh I don't know about that. I've thought of something far more fun. How about we cut a deal? I know you're a big fan of making deals that are bad for you, you should be an old pro.” The grin that spread across Astarion's face was enough to make a shiver run down Wyll's spine.
He'd seen that smirk before. That was the look of a devil who knows he's won. Something about seeing it on the face of a man who used to be his friend, it made Astarion far more intimidating than Wyll would've liked. “What… deal?”
“You leave now, I'll even let you take poor Karlach.” He threw a fake frown in her direction. “Or stay and I will gut both of you like the pitiful creatures you are. However, know that if you leave, I will hunt both of you to the ends of the world. It'll be like a game between us. One that will end with your mutilated corpses crushed beneath my boot. But you will live to protect your precious city another day.”
“Why? Just a minute ago you were content to slaughter all of us in your front yard. You won, why bother?” He didn't trust it, not an inch.
Astarion just laughed softly at him, cocking his head. “I changed my mind. Am I not allowed? No, I think I much prefer the idea of you spending the rest of your days hiding from me. I want you to go to bed every single night of your pathetic life wondering if this will be the night I put you out of your misery. Maybe I'll even send my Bhaalspawn after you to finish the job she started. Wouldn't that be fun?”
His voice was calm and collected, as though this were the most casual conversation in the world. He wasn't bluffing, and Wyll wasn't exactly interested in trying to test him. He bit his lip, his gaze shifting between Karlach and Astarion.
“Better pick fast, my friend. She won't last much longer, and I'm sure you don't want to leave her of all people with me.
“Fine. Fine, gods damn it all.” If only looks could kill, then perhaps Wyll mightve stood a chance alone against the vampire ascendant.
“I'll see you soon, my favorite little toy.” Astarion grinned like a madman as Wyll knelt beside Karlach, quickly casting a spell that teleported both of them away from the courtyard and out of view.
Astarion only chuckled to himself, rather pleased with the game he'd just made. He wouldn't even have to do much besides threaten him every so often now. And one day he would kill him, when he got bored or angry enough.
His attention turned to the two corpses left in the grass near him. Lae’zel and Gale, two incredibly powerful individuals. He could not wait until you woke up to find your new toys.
#astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3#will also admit i was playing a little fast and loose with astarions power its fine
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Getting saved by 141 [Headcannon]
Price
Disappointment but not surprised, how hard was it to stay put and don’t get kidnapped?
Made an entire rescue mission just to get you back.
Was the first face you saw when he came to your aid.
“I’ve got you Son.” Reassured you that you were alright and in safe hands.
“I’m sorry Sir, I told them about the team’s whereabouts…” could care less that you gave them information, more about the fact you were tortured for it.
Shines a flashlight in your eyes and tells you to follow it just to make sure you’re still functioning.
Is angry but not at you, likely at himself for allowing one of his own to be taken.
Will offer to carry you on his back if you can’t walk.
Patches up your wounds by himself, warns you in advance when disinfecting the wounds, “This is going to hurt like a bitch so suck it up.”
10/10, give this man father of the year. Don’t expect candy from this man, he will offer you a cigar though.
You’re on probation. Don’t even try change Price’s mind. He’ll just give you a pat on the back and apologise, “It’s for your own good, Kid.”
Checks up on your mental state daily and recommends you a military councillor.
Ghost
Knight in military uniform.
Sneaks into the warehouse you’re being held captive in.
Stealthy asf, no one ever sees this man coming and if they do then it’s already too late.
Jumpscare.
If he isn’t opening fire then he’s probably throwing knives into necks.
Throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes if you’re injured, doesn’t matter what injury, he’s just not patient.
Stabs adrenaline into you to keep you alive.
“You breathing, Soldier?” Gently slaps your face to keep you awake.
Will undress you from your uniform without second thought to patch up a wound so you don’t bleed out.
Sits next to you on the plane ride back to monitor your state. If you were unconscious when he found you then he’d allow you to lay on his shoulder but if you’re conscious he’ll make sure you stay that away until you’ve received medical attention.
If you’re the former then he’s probably not the best face to wake up to.
“Holy shit, am I dead?” “You nearly were.” “Because I’m seeing a Ghost.” “I still don’t find you funny.”
He definitely killed everyone in that warehouse for harming one of his own but will never admit that to you and simply just tells you, “Everything is taken care of, Kid. Go rest up.”
Puts you on probation and during that probation he’ll teach you some moves so that he doesn’t have to save you again.
Soap
*Panicked Scottish noises*
Radios you over and over to try get your location, when he finds out you’ve been taken he goes into Captain Mactavish mode.
Doesn’t really make a plan, runs straight into danger. Definitely blows something up just to live up to the demolition expert title.
Would quite literally NOT tackle someone out of a window onto a car but simply will throw them out of one. That Captain Mactavish mode has its limits.
Rushes to your side and cuts off your restraints. Cups your face with his gloved hand and tilts your head back and forth to check for any head injuries. You could be staring him dead in his eyes and he’d still check your pulse.
Will fireman carry you if you can’t walk or you’re unconscious.
Clicks his fingers in your face and then asks you how many fingers he’s holding up. You look at him dumbfounded, “5…?” “Fuckin hell you need medical treatment…”
If you’re falling off to sleep then he’ll keep you awake by teaching you some Scottish slang. “So you’re telling me that Elizabeth or Lizzie is slang for…coffin dodger?” “Or old cunt.” “I will be sure to use that more often now.” “Aye but do be careful of who you’re saying it around. You know how Brits get.” “……”
Gets Price to put you on probation even if the injuries aren’t serious. He’s just not taking any chances.
Gaz
“You broken?”
Panic mechanic Gaz.
Acts on his knee jerker responses to which needs Price to hold him back and keep him in check.
Threw tear gas through the vents and came through the roof opening fire. Couple of knives went through eyes, one of them nearly hit you. So much for a rescue mission.
Gaz would probably stare at you if you’re unconscious to see if you’re breathing or not. Gets up real close to your face, “Okay good, you’re still alive.” He was just afraid to be the one to collect your dog tag so he didn’t want to check your pulse.
Doesn’t have enough muscle mass to pick you up so would either drag you out of danger or let you lean on his shoulder.
Gaz is definitely the type to over bandage you, “Can never be to safe than sorry.” You looked mummified after he’s done with you.
Will let you sleep on his lap if he found you unconscious, after every 5 minutes he put a finger below your nose to check if you’re still breathing.
If he found you awake he tries his best to keep you awake, “Hey buddy, keep your eyes open or else you’re going to die.”
Doesn’t sugarcoat, tells you exactly what injuries you have, “I think your knee is dislocated, do you want me to relocate it now?” “Sergeant, please don’t.” Will relocate it anyway.
Tells you about his life story and how he got recruited into 141, “I was born at a very young age.” He really tries to lighten the mood.
Threatens to shatter your kneecaps if you don’t take at least 5 weeks off.
#task force 141#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty#cod mw22#cod headcanons#cod x male reader#cod x reader#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#captain price#captain price headcanons#gaz headcanons#ghost headcanons#soap headcanons
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