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floralcyanide · 3 months

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― 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 (nsfw)

⌯ pairing: bale!bruce wayne / afab!reader ⌯ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, nipple play, friends to lovers, love confessions, mentions of fear toxin (dcu), no gender affirming language other than anatomy description ⌯ word count: 2.5k ⌯ summary: based on these prompts: “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.” and “How do you always end up under my blanket?” your best friend bruce wayne has been missing for a while. when he comes back, he has a confession to make. ⌯ author’s note: this took a little while to write because I wanted to write an actual fic for bale!bruce. I hope yall enjoy (:

divider credit: @arminsumi | @firefly-graphics | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

You’re busying yourself by folding laundry, trying your best to get your mind off your best friend Bruce. While his job is very demanding, and he goes away for a while sometimes, he’s never been gone this long. You’re beginning to worry- so much so that you’ve lost sleep and the ability to eat properly. But you know Bruce, and you know he’s resilient. It’s just a matter of time. But, of course, he was presumed dead for years before now, and that will always haunt you. So it’s not entirely irrational of you to worry.

A knock at your apartment door startles you out of your sleepy stupor. You set down the towel you were folding before shuffling to the entrance. You peek through the peephole to see none other than Bruce standing there. You swing the door open, and Bruce immediately wraps his arms around you. You do the same to him, holding him tightly, fearing that this is some hallucination from lack of sleep. Your face is buried in Bruce’s chest, and his scent tells you that this is real and he’s really here with you.

“Where were you?” you whisper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

It had been quite a few days of radio silence from Bruce. You know he’s Batman, and he keeps you updated on his safety status. But he, of course, doesn’t tell you details of the villains and crimes for your safety. You’re his childhood best friend, so you knew he was Batman before he even told you. The day he told you, you just laughed. “I know, Bruce.” But you were still very concerned about his well-being after trying to approach one of his enemies.

“One of the guys I was after had a toxin,” Bruce pulls away from you, looking around to ensure no one would hear, “It got to me.”

You furrow your eyebrow, “Come in.”

Bruce enters your apartment, waiting for you to close and lock the door. He shoves his hands into his pockets, unsure of whether or not he should explain the situation at all. But he knows he owes you an explanation.

“A toxin, huh?” you ask, crossing your arms as you lean against the door.

“Fear toxin.” Bruce clarifies, “It makes you hear and see the things you fear the most, but they aren’t really there.”

You shudder, “That sounds horrifying. And you said you experienced it? How long did it last?”

“I was out for a few days while Alfred worked with someone to make an antidote. I saw things. Things I didn’t want to.”

You pull away from the door and slowly walk to Bruce, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bruce looks at you as you stand before him, “No, but I probably should anyway. Considering the things I was seeing.”

You pull the sides of Bruce’s jacket together, holding onto them as you search his eyes. They’re different, and you figure it’s from whatever he experienced from the fear toxin.

“What did you see, Bruce?”

Bruce grimaces with a nervous laugh, “Are you sure you want to know?”

You look at him and nod, still clutching his jacket.

“I saw you,” Bruce sighs, shaking his head, “Something kept hurting you and killing you over and over. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

You stare up at Bruce with a frown etched on your face at the thought of your best friend feeling helpless.

“That sounds awful,” you say.

“It just made me think about a lot and realize things I didn’t see before.”

Bruce turns his thoughts over carefully, choosing what exactly to say next. He had always loved you, sure. But Bruce never thought of it as a romantic thing. Not until the fear toxin made him see things and feel things he had never felt or seen before. He wants to protect and care for you so you never have to go through what he saw you go through. Even though it isn’t plausible that you would, Bruce still wants what is best for you because he does love you. A little more now than he did before. You, on the other hand, have always loved Bruce. You've been enthralled with his presence since you were kids playing in the Wayne Manor backyard. Everything he did amazed you, especially now with him helping the people of Gotham. His intelligence, softness, even the cockiness he sometimes lets seep through. Even before, when he was a slightly bratty rich guy, you loved him. Bruce's absence for days has made your feelings for him more intense. With love comes worry and concern.

“And what would that be?” you ask.

Bruce pulls your hands from his jacket, enveloping them in his, “You’ve always been here for me, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I love you and will always do anything to protect you.”

“I love you too, Bruce,” you say back, not realizing the total weight of his words.

“No,” he says, “I really do. It’s taken me this long to see, but I do love you. And not like a best friend.”

Your face softens, “Bruce, you don’t mean that-”

“No, I do mean it,” he says, squeezing your hands.

There’s a pregnant pause before Bruce slowly leans down to capture your lips with his in a swift, gentle motion. The world seems to stop around the two of you, the sirens outside quieting and the sound of your washing machine fading away. Bruce lets go of you and cradles your head in his hands, deepening the passionate-turning kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. Bruce slips his tongue past your lips, battling yours for dominance, which you gladly let him take. He guides you backward until the base of your spine is pressed against the kitchen counter. Bruce moves his grasp from your hair to your thighs, where he hikes them up around his waist. He smiles into the kiss, and you pick up on it.

“What?” you ask, pulling away briefly.

“I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.”

You feel a warmth spread along your ears at that confession. Trailing your palms up Bruce’s neck and past his jaw to his cheeks, you stare into his eyes. A smile spreads across his face into slight laughter, to which you mirror.

“What else have you dreamed of, Bruce?”

“Want me to show you?”

A nod of your head leads to Bruce walking you to your bedroom, still perched on his waist. He gently lies you down on the bed before climbing over you, his strong arms on either side of your head. He lowers himself onto you to kiss you again, his weight on his forearms by your ears. Bruce then moves to your jaw, teasing you with small kisses and nips. You can’t help but giggle at the feeling of his stubble on your skin, tickling it. Bruce travels down your neck and then down to your torso, where he lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach. You watch with content as he tugs your shirt over his head so he can reach higher to your breasts. You don’t wear a bra when at home, so Bruce has easy access to them. He softly kisses your skin, avoiding the areas you want him most. You open your mouth to joke about it, but before you can say a word, his fingers pinch one of your nipples as he lays his head by the other. Bruce shoves your shirt to your shoulders, resuming his previous position of pressing his cheek to your left breast and toying with the right one with his hand. With a slight movement of his head, Bruce is now suckling your unoccupied bud. Your hips buck into his stomach, and you feel his length growing hard against your leg. Bruce gazes up at you through his lashes, his eyes a little darker than before. Your hand finds its way to his hair, fingers tangling themselves in it.

Bruce tweaks your nipple with his teeth as he rolls the other with his fingers, making electricity jolt through you. A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, your grip on Bruce’s hair tightening briefly. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your breasts before moving down your sternum and stomach, toying with the hem of your sweatpants. Bruce glances up at you to ask for permission, and you nod.

“You can touch me.”

Bruce pulls your sweatpants down, and you kick them off the rest of the way. He bites and licks the skin of your thighs before cupping your clothed heat with his mouth. Bruce flattens his tongue against you, dragging it upward against the cotton material of your underwear. You whine at the contact, wanting something a little more direct. With your hands still in Bruce’s hair, you remove them, moving them to pull down the barrier between you and Bruce’s mouth. He helps you with a knowing smirk. He softly kisses your clit before letting his tongue delve into your wetness, a sharp inhale through your nose letting him know it feels good. You would be lying if you had said you hadn’t thought of this exact moment before. Bruce steadies your hips with his hands, his fingers digging into your flesh. When the tip of his tongue comes in contact with your bundle of sensitive nerves, you attempt to buck your hips up to no avail. Bruce is incredibly strong, so you had no chance of moving. But he begins to guide your hips up and down, making you ride his tongue on his own accord. You move with what he’ll allow along with his guidance, and pleasure flowers through you. Bruce coaxes a finger into you, the feeling of him exploring you with it making you moan loudly. When he finds your spot, he adds another finger to circle it slowly. You gasp, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loud again.

“No,” Bruce shakes head, pulling away from you and stopping his movements, “I want to hear you, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you exhale, hands clutching the bed sheets.

Bruce resumes pumping his fingers in and out of you while pressing his fingertips to your spot every now and then, eliciting noises from you that you’ve never let out with anyone else. He laps at your clit simultaneously, and he allows you to move your hips freely as he spreads your legs with his free hand. You feel yourself becoming lost in pleasure, your head cloudy and letting out noises without a second thought. Bruce feels you tightening around his fingers, signaling you’re close to release. So, he pulls away from you and sits up on his knees. You wriggle at the loss of his fingers, but he quickly replaces them with the tip of his hardened length. Bruce holds you still with one hand as he drags himself up and down your weeping cunt with the other. You pull your shirt the rest of the way off as Bruce slowly pushes himself inside you. Giving you a moment to adjust, he peels off his own shirt and tosses it before continuing to thrust slowly into you.

When he’s entirely inside, he notices you taking deep breaths, “All good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “It’s just been a while.”

That and Bruce is well endowed, so you have to relax fully to take him comfortably. When you finally feel comfortable enough to move, you give your hips an experimental roll. Both you and Bruce groan at the feeling, to which Bruce pulls out a little before pushing back in.

“Don’t be shy, Bruce,” you joke, “You can go faster.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bruce smiles deviously down at you.

He picks your legs up and lays them on his shoulders before he begins to pound into you, leaving you gasping for air. You grip Bruce’s biceps, his rhythm is merciless as your bed frame squeaks underneath you. He moves you upward to the pillows so you can rest your head on them and so he can grip the headboard for leverage. Bruce’s hips snap forward rapidly, just as he assured, and he has to put a pillow above your head so it doesn’t slam into the bedframe. Your moans are incoherent at this point, and your eyes are wound shut.

“Look at me, babe,” Bruce says, moving a hand from your thigh to your cheek, bringing you out of your fog.

You open your eyes to gaze into his, Bruce pressing his chest to yours and fucking you at a new angle as he puts his forehead against yours. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouth before finally embracing in a heated kiss. Deciding to switch up the angle, Bruce removes your legs from his shoulders and spreads them apart as far as they go. You howl into the kiss as Bruce hits that spot inside you, driving you crazy.

“Right there, Bruce,” you manage to stutter, “Right there!”

He hooks his arms under your knees, slamming you against him even harder than before. Bruce presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles into it. You curse, no longer caring if your neighbors hear you or your bed slamming into the wall. Heat builds up in your belly as you struggle to maintain eye contact with Bruce, stars flooding your vision. He hits that spot inside you harder than before, sending you over the edge in a snap. Your walls clench around Bruce, causing his orgasm to unfold shortly behind yours. The feeling of him emptying into you coaxes your release to last longer, and Bruce not letting up on your clit adds to the overstimulation. You cry out as another orgasm washes over you, and Bruce hisses from his own overstimulation. He curses under his breath as he pulls out of you, hurrying to your closet for a towel. Bruce cleans the two of you up as you work to bring yourself back to Earth.

“That,” you say, Bruce hovering over you, “was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Bruce says, and you both laugh at his cheesiness.

Rolling over to lie next to you, Bruce pulls the blanket on his side of the bed over him, and you do the same. But the ownership of blankets doesn’t last long as you cuddle. You manage to pull Bruce’s blanket over to your side, much like you used to when you were both younger. You had sleepovers a lot, and you’d always somehow end up stealing Bruce’s blanket.

“How do you always end up under my blanket?” Bruce sighs.

You peek at him, opening your closed eyes momentarily before shrugging, stifling a laugh. Bruce pulls your head into his neck before kissing your hair, allowing you to doze off. Even if the things he saw during the toxin’s hold on him were disturbing, at least it allowed him to see things more clearly and find his way to you.

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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 1 month

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A song of Ice & Shadow

Part 2

You can read part one here.

Summary: To Y/n's dismay, the Illyrians keep coming to their home, and despite her initial reluctance to engage in war talks, she becomes entangled in the political world of the fae. This ends with her worst nightmare becoming a reality.

Word count: 2.9K

Y/n paced around the living room, holding a scientific book amidst a clutter of research papers scattered about. Deeply immersed in her work, she was oblivious to the initial knocks at the door. Eventually, the persistent knocking caught her attention, prompting her to reluctantly abandon her studies.Upon opening the door, however, she found no one present “Are you kidding me?” she exhaled, as she went back to the living room. Just as she got back to reading, Cassian’s voice interrupted her concentration “Hello, y/n. Nice to see you again”.

“For fuck’s sake” she instinctively threw the book in his direction, a reflex action to the sudden intrusion, which he effortlessly evaded. Cassian’s amusement at the gesture was evident as he remarked “A book, really?”.

“Well, when someone is startled by an unexpected visitor, instinct tends to take over” she retorted, her tone a mixture of irritation and explanation.

“I did knock” he reminded, to which she replied “and I did open the door”.

“Wait, you didn’t know I was cloaked?”.

“How would I know? Do I look like some fae expert to you?”.

“Clearly not”.

“Do you enjoy pissing people off?” she asked with a serious tone.

“Sometimes” he replied, his tone tinged with smugness.

“Get a new hobby. People have more important things to do”.

“We’re trying to save everyone, so I’d say that is important”.

“Whatever! I’m not dealing with you. Talk to Nesta. Do you know where her room is or do I have to guide you?”.

“I’ll do just fine on my own”.

“Great, then off you go” she pushed him out of the living room and closed the door.

—

“You wouldn’t believe who I just met at the Bakery, Nes-” Y/n began speaking as she entered the house, unaware of the company they had. Her smile faded when she noticed the two Illyrian males, replaced by a cold, stern expression.“to what do we owe this displeasure?” she inquired, crossing her arms.

Cassian's response mirrored her sentiment, expressing his own reluctance to be there. Before any further exchange could unfold, Azriel interjected with a low, cold voice, revealing the reason for their visit “We received word from the queens”.

“They’ve been sent here to gather information about the house for the queens. They want to know where everything is, in the smallest details” Nesta explained.

Y/n directed her question at her sister “And you believe providing all this information is a good idea?”.

Azriel interjected, 'It's the only way to secure their cooperation”, Nesta nodded.

Y/n stole a glance at the male before returning her gaze on her sister “you do know this puts us in real danger?”.

"Nothing will happen to you or your sisters. Cassian and I will keep watch on the house”.

Despite assurances from Azriel about their safety, Y/n remained unconvinced, her concern evident in her demeanor. Y/n seemed to want to say something but decided against it. As she turned to leave, she was halted by Azriel's words “Feyre expects you to be here tomorrow”. After a brief pause, Y/n tilted her head to the side “Tell her to lower her expectations” she replied before walking out.

—

“Perhaps you should attend, even if just for a little while” Nesta suggested.

“Why? Are two sisters not enough? I don’t wish to be involved in human-fae relations” Y/n clarified.

“I know. I hate this as much as you do, but Feyre is now one of them, so do it for her” Nesta urged.

“Not out of her own free will…I- I don’t know, I’ll think about it” she sighed.

“Not to pressure you or anything but you do know, they’ll be here in a couple of hours” Nesta reminded.

“I know” she shrugged.

“Where is she? They’re gonna be here any minute now” Feyre scanned the room anxiously, looking for Y/n.

“I don’t know. She said she’ll think about it” Nesta told her.

“Think about it? She does realize that this is important, not one of her games” Feyre’s frustration became evident.

“Do you want me to send Az or Cassian to fetch her?” Rhys offered.

“No, that would only make things worse” Feyre dismissed the suggestion.

Dressed in a midnight blue tulle gown that revealed her back and arms, her skin so pale one would think she’s frozen. The fabric flowed around her body like a cloud, complementing her features. She emanated an aura of grace and elegance that would captivate any male who laid eyes on her. Y/n walked into the room, head held high. Her presence seemed to illuminate the room, and much to Azriel’s dismay, his eyes were drawn to her. Something stirred inside of him, something unfamiliar; even his shadows peaked from behind him to study her. He was betrayed by a momentary lapse in composure before pushing his thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

“She’d fit right in at the Night Court” Rhys whispered to Feyre.

“Is that why it took you so long?” Feyre asked her sister.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Y/n tried to hide her smile.

Just as Cassian was about to comment, the queens appeared.

Rhys and Feyre started the conversation with the queens, introducing everyone present in the room. Elain curtseyed, while Nesta and Y/n stayed straight-backed with their heads high. They wasted no time and got to the reason why they were there; to discuss the war looming on their doorstep. -”This territory is a slip of land compared to the vastness of the continent. It is not in our interests to defend it. It would be a waste of resources” one of the queens said, to which Rhys replied “surely the loss of even one innocent life would be abhorrent”.

“Yes. to lose one life is always a horror. But war is war. If we must sacrifice this tiny territory to save the majority, then we shall do it”.

“And here I thought fae kind was the worst. It seems there’s even worse. You’re shameless. As queens, you have a responsibility towards your people. You’re supposed to protect them, all of them. The war hasn’t even started and you’re already doing a bad job of it” Y/n blurted.

“Excuse me?” the queen was taken aback, but so was everyone sitting there.

“Y/n!” Feyre warned.

“What? Is it not your duty to defend your people?” Y/n didn’t back down.

“What my sister is trying to say is that there are good people here” Feyre spoke, before things escalated.

The queens suggested that the fae defend this little territory, but there were counter arguments to that, until the queens mentioned that it was their job since the threat is caused by their own kind and their blood should be the one to spill, to which Y/n didn’t disagree. But then the queens continued to be insensitive, stubborn, selfish creatures, refusing to listen to reason. This made Y/n feel rage; knowing her temper, she excused herself before she screwed up whatever chance of peace they had. “Where do you think you are going?” one of the queens asked.

“Away from here. I am afraid if I stayed, I’d hurt your ego and you’d leave without considering peace, so I am removing myself, respectfully” she bowed mockingly, and a soft smile graced Azriel’s face.

—

Satisfied with the research she had done, Y/n was able to take a day to relax when a knock interrupted her solitude. She waited a few minutes before reaching the door, silently hoping that someone else would answer it for once “You’d think with many people living in this house, someone else would get the door for once” she sighed as she opened the door, only to find no one there “Ah, I suppose you’re glamoured again. The servants are here today and Nesta isn’t, so unfortunately, we have to go to a more private place. Follow me” she muttered to herself, pausing briefly before shutting the door and retreating upstairs to her room, closing the door behind her “what can I help with today, general?” she turned around to face Cassian, whom by now his cloaking would’ve vanished, but she was met with the other illyrian. Taken aback, she took a step back “you’re not the general”.

“No, I’m not. Nice to see you again” Azriel hid a chuckle.

“I’m sure” Y/n managed to force a polite smile, unaware she was holding her breath.

Noticing her sudden reaction at the sight of him, Azriel inquired “Are you alright?”.

“I’m fine. So, what can I do for you?” She wasted no time asking, not wanting to be distracted by those beautiful hazel eyes.

“I’m here to check if you’ve received a response from the queens”.

“Aren’t you the court’s spymaster? Wouldn’t you know if we had received a letter?” Y/n questioned.

“My spies are positioned in courts, not among mere humans. Besides, I didn’t think you’d appreciate being spied upon. But, I do have other methods to obtain information”.

“Like torture?” she crossed her arms.

“That too”.

“Are you threatening me?” she took a step towards him, but he stood his ground.

“I don’t know how you came to that conclusion. I simply answered your question. Violence is not always the solution” he replied, frustration evident in his tone.

“But it’s often the most effective, wouldn’t you agree?” she smirked, meeting his gaze as his shadows appeared behind her.

“It depends” he held her gaze. For a moment they stood in silence before she finally spoke “to answer your question, no, they did not send word back. I suppose that concludes our meeting”.

“Are you kicking me out” he snorted.

“No, I’m simply stating the fact that you’ve gotten what you came here for, hence, there’s nothing left for you here anymore, or am I mistaken?” she shrugged.

He contemplated for a moment “no, you are absolutely right. I’ll be on my way. Have a nice day” he said, striding towards the window.

“What-? You’re leaving through the window?” she was taken by surprise.

“I have wings, it’s faster” he explained.

“Right, then. Goodbye” she muttered to herself as he left, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding “What the hell was that?” she thought to herself.

The next time they came to meet with the queens, Azriel surveyed the house, but Y/n was nowhere to be seen “your sister won’t be joining us?” he asked Elain.

“No, she went to her other home. Something happened at work” Elain replied.

“And even if she were here, she wouldn’t want to see those self-absorbed queens” Nesta added.

“Oh, I see” Azriel nodded, unsure if he was disappointed or relieved she wasn’t there.

The meeting did not go as well as they had hoped, but it was not a complete disaster either. Rhys offered Nesta and Elain to come live with them in Velaris, but Elain refused, as she was engaged to a fae-hating prick. So, Rhys sent his soldiers to look after them, with one waiting in the room they frequented everyday at noon and midnight in case they changed their minds.

—

Elain and Azriel were talking, when Y/n entered the living room. By now, she had grown somewhat accustomed to the presence of fae in their house, but she still resented it, especially now with fae soldiers guarding them. When Y/n returned, Nesta informed her of everything that happened while she was gone, which naturally annoyed her.

“You’re back” that was her way of greeting Azriel.

“I could say the same to you” he replied, and she narrowed her eyes in confusion. Noticing her expression, Azriel proceeded “you were missed at the meeting with the queens”.

“I doubt ‘missed’ is the word anyone would use, but I’m actually glad I wasn’t there. I don’t think I would’ve been able to hold back. Why are you here, spymaster?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“Y/n” Elain interjected at her sister’s ‘rudeness’.

“Same reason as last time” he answered.

“Did you not get the information yet?” Y/n avoided meeting his eyes.

“I did-”.

“We were having a civil conversation. You should try it some time” Elain muttered.

“No, thank you. I think I’ll stick to my ‘uncivil’ ways” Y/n said, ignoring Azriel once again as she walked out of the room.

“Forgive my sister. She can be rude sometimes, not that she notices often. But she has a kind heart, I promise” Elain tried to defend her sister’s actions.

“Don’t worry about it” he gave Elain a soft smile.

—

The next time Y/n was in the same room as Azriel was when they were face to face with the king of Hybern. She and her sisters were dragged and forced to kneel before the king. Nesta and Elain were in their nightgowns, while Y/n was in a teal dress. Her clothes were torn and covered in blood. Bruises painted her skin in shades of blue and purple, her lips swollen and cut, which oozed blood, same with the cut on her forehead. Her hair tousled, strands escaping from a once-neat bun. Despite her injuries, she stood tall, her posture defiant and unyielding, with a determined glint in her eyes; her spirit remained unbroken. She did not let them take her or her sisters without a fight, one where she fought with all her might until she couldn’t anymore.

Seeing Feyre and her companions, blood drained from Azriel’s face as he bled all over the floor, with an arrow penetrating his chest, her heart ached and she knew the worst was yet to come. They had failed. Feyre gave her an apologetic look, Rhys held Feyre’s hand in a comforting effort, while Cassian’s eyes were on Nesta and Azriel trying but failing to lift his head as Mor held him. Y/n noticed two other males present, from their physical description, she speculated who they were; the one who held Feyre captive and his friend; Tamlin and Lucien.

Feyre threatened the king, but he warned her to be careful, as he held her sisters’ lives in his hands. He was discussing what he’d do to the sisters with the mortal queens, Feyre and the others tried fighting him but his power was too strong, and with the cauldron he was undefeatable. They had all exhausted their powers and if they tried one more thing, Azriel was going to die, with all that poison coursing through his veins.

As Elain was dragged towards the cauldron, Y/n broke loose from the men that held her, quickly grabbing the sword from one of their sides, lunging it at the one holding Elain, who fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Before Y/n could reach her sister, the king struck her with his powers, sending her flying across the room “Ah, we have a spirited one here. Throw this one in last.. I want her to watch it all” the king gave his orders.

That blow broke some of Y/n’s bones, but even as she winced in pain she managed to sit up. “NO-” but it was too late, he had given the orders and Elain was thrown into the cauldron, her screams echoing in the room. Then there was silence, and never has Y/n hated silence as she did that moment. She wished for any sound, any cry, scream from her sister, but nothing, she was met with nothing but complete silence. A moment later, Elain was dumped out of the cauldron, alive. She was alive, but her ears, her ears were different, they were pointed, she was fae now.

A tear slipped down Y/n’s face as Nesta was about to be thrown in, knowing there was nothing she or anyone could do about it. Nesta fought all the way, until her head was shoved underwater. Silence fell again, before the cauldron spat her out. Like Elain, she had changed, but unlike Elain, she was full of rage. She walked over to Elain and pushed Lucien away, holding her as he claimed she was his mate.

“Bring the spirited one, let’s see if she’ll survive… My money is on you” he told Y/n.

“I will kill you, I promise you that” she threatened while being dragged. She tried fighting the men off, but with many of her bones broken, there was only so much she could do. Stil,l she did not make it easy for them to shove her in. The cauldron bubbled but went still after a moment. Nothing could be seen or heard. A worried look took over Feyre’s face.

“I guess she wasn’t strong-willed after all” the king stated. Just seconds later, Y/n emerged from the water and grabbed the edge as she climbed out of the cauldron. She fell to her knees from all the pain and glared at the king.

Suddenly, Feyre was begging the king to break her bond with Rhys and let them all go. The king agreed and both were on the floor screaming from pain. When the king was done, Mor grabbed the sisters and Rhys grabbed Cassian and Azriel and winnowed out.

The males arrived at the Town House, while the females were dropped off at the House of Wind. They would all need time to heal, physically and mentally.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever

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unabashegirl · 3 months

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Matilda Djerf || Instagram Blurb

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! REQUEST YOUR OWN INSTAGRAM BLURB!

masterlist

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist and 2,485,294 others

harrystyles day one of honeymoon: already annoyed her 🫠

view all 50,375 comments

yourinstagram just to clarify he was meant to look for directions before leaving the hotel and we had no cash, no wi-fi and didn't speak the language. 😡

pilowpersonpp no yeah. i would have divorced him by now.

harrystyles i said i was sorry! 😞

harries_reed atleast the outfit is cooperating ✨

liked by gemmastyles , annetwist and 2,485,294 others

yourinstagram it's giving mario vibes ✨

view all 20, 956 comments

harrystyles i didn't hear you compain last night!

yourinstagram this is a family show, harold!

gemmastyles pls don't leave him. he doesn't know better. he is just a baby.

harrystyles stop giving her ideas gemma!

gemmastyles shave it!

liked by yourmom ,harrystyles and 2,485,294 others

yourinstagram say hi to meatball 🐶!

view all 25,305 comments

harryfans293 does this mean that Harry is a dad?

harrysfan031 he is! he is a daddy.

yourmom Another dog?

yourinstagram this will be the last I swear 🙏🏼

yourmom you said the same thing abt the last one. 🙄

yourinstagram i can't help myself ☺️

harrystyles why am i not part of this picture? and where is my hat? 😒

liked by niallhoran, mitchrowland and 3,485,201 others

harrystyles two weeks since our wedding. two weeks of being yours. two weeks of utter blissfulness❤️

view all 40,205 comments

gemmastyles still waiting for those wedding pictures

niallhoran so happy for you two 💞

annetwist I can't wait until you both get back!

liked by harryfan10, harryfan123 and 10,486 others

harryfan2156 harry was seeing having dinner on his own last night on the south of italy. Is the honeymoon over already? Is there trouble in paradise? 🙃

view all 6570 comments

harryfan24 girl he posted abt her last night

yourinstagram You all really love to push this narrative.😂 I was simply sunburned and had a migraine, so I opted for room service. Not that I owe anyone explanations about my marriage.

liked by yourinstagram, yourbestfriend and 394,285 others

enews A few hours ago, Harry Styles was spotted enjoying his honeymoon with his newly wedded wife, Y/N Y/L/N. They were seen laughing and sharing kisses, putting to rest any rumors of trouble in paradise. Just two days prior, speculation had arisen after Harry was seen dining alone. The celebrated author set the record straight in a comment, stating, "You all really love to push this narrative. I was simply sunburned and had a migraine, so I opted for room service. Not that I owe anyone explanations about my marriage." What do you think about her comment?

view all 34,028 comments

harryflowers I think you should all mind your own business and let them enjoy their honeymoon in peace. 😐

harrysfan4ever this is exacly what Y/N is talking about in her comment. leave them alone! let them live. 🙃

harrytruestfan i think the world has bigger things to worry than what Harry and Y/N are doing.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! REQUEST YOUR OWN INSTAGRAM BLURB!

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actual-changeling · 5 months

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On unhealthy relationship dynamics

A little while ago, I stumbled across a post discussing Aziraphale's character on a meta level, and without knowing the content, I was completely unprepared when one single sentence pushed me from 'uncomfortable but doable' into 'triggered and panicking'. The post itself was triggering from start to finish, but that phrase stood out to me.

Why am I telling you this?

After calming down and thinking about it for a few hours, I realised what exactly my brain had reacted to—victim blaming rhetoric repackaged to fit Aziraphale and Crowley's situation. Victim blaming is, to provide a short summary, the act of putting blame for mistreatment on the victim instead of the perpetrator. It's a concept often used in r/pe discussions, but it can be applied to any abusive or non-abusive situation as long as a power imbalance is created, meaning you have at least one person harming another in whatever shape or form.

If you broaden the definition, you can apply it to more situations, including—and this is where we reach the actual topic—their relationship and the Final Fifteen (F15).

That is exactly what some people have been doing—putting all the blame on Crowley and absolving Aziraphale of any and all responsibility as if it were his fault that Aziraphale broke his heart

Before anyone runs to the comments, let me clarify what I assume will be the FAQ.

no, I do not think Aziraphale is abusive

I do not think that their relationship is abusive either

no, I do not hate Aziraphale

yes, I know what I am talking about

everything I will talk about is largely based on what we as the audience actually see and know, combined with interpretations of the intentional subtext Neil wrote into the show.

I have been actively in this fandom since the second season was released, and I have seen a lot of (hopefully accidental) ableist & generally insensitive takes. These are the ones I see the most and what I personally consider to be important topics of discussion, but the same logic I will be applying to these can be applied to many, many more situations.

Since my meta posts get very long very quickly, I will be posting them in parts and always linking back to the others, plus this one as the masterpost.

Part 1—Nice Is A Four Letter Word

The basic pattern is this:

Aziraphale refers to Crowley with a 'nice' term -> Crowley gets upset and tells him to stop -> Aziraphale hears him but continues anyway.

There are reasons behind Crowley's rejection, and I will go into detail, but I want to make one thing very clear: It does not matter why Crowley asked him to stop. He set a boundary, and Aziraphale repeatedly and intentionally overstepped it; this causes understandable anger and frustration.

Crowley does not owe Aziraphale an explanation, just like you would not owe someone an explanation when you don't want to be called x-term. Mutual respect requires the acceptance of personal boundaries like that, and by breaking them over and over again, Aziraphale tells Crowley that his own wants are more important than Crowley's needs.

In the 1827 Edinburgh flashback, we see the consequences of Crowley doing good/being called good (which are usually connected, meaning if they notice someone is calling Crowley good, he most likely did something to cause that) firsthand, and so does Aziraphale. He gets dragged down to hell and tortured for up to thirty years.

Even before that, Crowley expresses numerous times how hell punishes good deeds, and they are 'always listening' in on him. You would assume that Aziraphale would stop to keep him safe—and yet he doesn't because he cannot accept the reality of Crowley's situation and refuses to listen to him.

On top of that, Aziraphale only ever "praises" Crowley when he does something he personally sees as praiseworthy, aka something good/kind/nice/angelic/etc. but never when it is something that CROWLEY would like to be praised for, or at the very least acknowledged. We see it in season 2 over and over and over again: Aziraphale cares for no one's thoughts or plans except his own and has no interest in even hearing Crowley out.

Aziraphale calling him nice is not a sweet little gesture, it is an intentional overstepping of a boundary Crowley has been trying to enforce for centuries, and it reinforces the dichotomy of good angels/bad demons, with angelic existence being the ultimate goal. At the very least, it's disrespectful towards Crowley, and at worst, it is actively keeping Crowley in a trauma response, tugging on his leash whenever he tries to explain reality to Aziraphale.

To have a healthy relationship, Aziraphale needs to stop.

part 2 - part 3

#alex talks good omens #good omens meta #crowley meta #aziraphale meta #go meta #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen

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maxxy-b · 9 months

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Hi everyone,

I don’t know where to start actually; it’s been so long...

I’m making this post to clarify some things about this blog. I started to gain weight on purpose and actively not so long ago and at this time I loved it, I regret nothing about that. But some events in my life made me rethink about myself and what I really want/need.

Recently I broke up whit my (now) ex-boyfriend, I had to leave the house we bought together, so I moved out. Then I’ve been transferred to another city with my job so I had to move again, it was exhausting. But in the meantime it made me think, and some feelings and thoughts that I’ve buried deep inside me started to come back.

I’ve never really been fully comfortable with the body I have (nothing to do with my overweight) and for several years before meeting the man I shared some years with, I’ve been questioning myself about my identity. Now that I had some time alone to think clearly it appears to me that for more than 15 years I evinced the fact that I’m not feeling well in this woman body. So, for now on I will start transitioning and focusing on my future as a fulfilled man. I’m taking a break about gaining weight, I don’t know yet if or when I’ll come back. Maybe I won’t, I can’t tell for now if the feedism will be compatible with my needs as my life gonna change a lot…

I know and understand that some of you won’t stay if I stop sharing about my weight. I won’t delete the account because it’s still a part of me that I don’t want to erase. I just wanted to come out properly and I think I owe you this explanation since some of you are following me for a long time now.

I also know that some reactions will be bad and if there are insults or inappropriate answers to this post I will obviously delete them. I’m not here today to provoke some hate, I needed to express all of those feelings to move on and it feel so good to finally starting to feel myself.

So, please, if you don’t like it just don’t say anything. But I’m not telling this to seek some support either. I’m definitely not seeking for some attention, I want to be clear about that. I just don’t want to leave all of you all of a sudden for no reason.

All of this being said, I’ll still be around here to enjoy fat and proud people sharing their journey. My love for big bellies will never fade ahah

Wishing all of you a bright future, and most important, be and love yourself ♥

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crab-boy-blues · 1 month

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I cannot express the amount of home that this show has given me.

As a queer, transmasc person, I have never felt very comfortable with labels. I thought I was lesbian, then non-binary and bisexual, and then just a gay trans guy. Although I'm fairly sure I'm only attracted to masculine aligned people and that I am masculine aligned myself, I only felt the need for those labels because it's just so much easier to be binary. To have solid answers to who you are, to fit nicely into one category, to be easy to explain. But I have never been a polar or binary person in any sense, I have always been fluid. From my gender identity to expression, my ADHD fixation cycle of constantly moving on to new things, to my tendency to mirror people and morph a bit into different situations.

But nothing about our world just lets you live free and fluid like that. This is not conducive with our society of cishet being the default, and anything else needing to be clearly stated. Because you can't just be different and go unexplained, you have to justify your very existence. It is exhausting to live as a fluid person in many aspects, and constantly having to pinpoint myself on arbitrary scales that were set up by other people, to help them understand. I don't owe anyone coordinates to the exact degree of my transness. You don't owe anyone an explanation.

Our flag means death is such a beautiful depiction of a way of being that just lets people be. At almost no point is straight the expectation. The words queer and gay don't come up a single time throughout the show (correct me on that if I'm wrong), because it's just not relevant. The point of the show is that they're in love, and the fact that they're both men has almost no bearing on the situation whatsoever. Because it doesn't change anything. Jim is never acknowledged as trans, there isn't a coming out, Jim is just Jim, and it's not questioned. Olu, Zheng, Jim, and Archie's relationship is never clarified. Because we don't need to know if they're two couples or one quadruple, it just. Doesn't. Matter.

This stupid fucking beautiful show let's these wonderful characters be who they are, no presets to their selfness. To hell with historical accuracy, to hell with realism. Because this pocket of celebration of self, of queer joy, of love, it isn't about that. It's not about the details, or the timeline, or the exactness. It just is. It's fluid and free and fucking beautiful. And it's a home for people like me.

"it's about belonging to something"

#ofmd #our flag means death #queer joy #safe space ship #its about belongling #our flag means love #taika waititi #rhys darby #ed teach #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #gif by:#@startreklesbian

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slasherholic · 1 year

Note

missing u heavy rn 😢

hi! I’m really, really, really sorry for disappearing. I don’t know if I’ll ever post regularly again on here, but I owe it to you guys to at least clarify that and give an explanation.

I was dealing with a drug and alcohol addiction for a long time, last year it got severe. I’m doing better now than I was last year, I have a supportive partner, but it’s ups and downs. I’m still struggling to get sober.

I love these characters, but I truly don’t feel like I have anything to offer anymore. My will to write is 100% burnt out. I have so many stories I want to tell, but when I sit down and try to get the right words out, it just doesn’t happen and I end up feeling like a total moron. I hate to sound so negative, but it feels like I killed my writing brain with booze. I don’t know if that’s reality, but that’s what it feels like. Most days I feel like I can barely articulate myself. I just feel slow.

I’m sorry for the way I handled this (or rather didn’t handle it), I was putting it off because I felt like a massive asshole for just peacing out. I don’t know what the state of things around here is, or who’s gonna see this, but yeah, I'm not dead or anything, I miss you guys lots. Worst case scenario this blog will just stay up as an archive of my work. Thanks for all the fun times and memories!

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wyllaztopia · 2 months

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It's probably preferable if you don't reply to this. But do as you like.

Ah, forgive me. Let me be a little less chronically online.

I didn't mean to imply anything by it—it's just common to see, given your age and the kind of content you make/who you interact with. A common pattern. I'd rather rip off the bandaid and get it out of the way, than to be surprised later.

It's hard to ask these sort of things. The topic can be delicate, and I have no interest in bringing you harassment for any kind of opinion on this sort of thing. People can take things like shipping too seriously. ^^;

But because of that—I don't know if you're that kind of person either, so I wanted to ask. I think everyone can agree that it's fine to stay away from things that make you uncomfortable.

It's just if you feel strongly enough about it to condemn the people who do take interest in that sort of thing. If you think the witch hunting and death threats that propagates is acceptable. That's really what I was looking for in your response.

A lot of people can be like that. It's a popular stance, these days.

But you seem sensible enough. Of course, have whatever opinions you like. It's none of my business and you owe no one any explanation.

I only ask because it affects my ability to engage with your content. I would rather not eat the food of someone who wants to poison me, right? It seems in poor taste.

I look forward to your work in the future. Thank you for your consideration.

i'm going to respond so people don't misunderstand my original post, thank you so much for clarifying!

i do not agree with any type of harassment or death threats sent to a person no matter that may have done. if they do something extremely illegal or messed up, i believe it's better to either report to the proper authorities, spread awareness under the notion to warn and protect others, and then stay away from the person.

it is not that hard to block a person, there's no need to spread hate. just simply do the right and decent thing. if people don't agree with me and you're into witch hunting, you're free to stay away from my blog.

so for clarification, i don't support the weird messed up stuff from pr-shippers (if that's what you call them), but i also won't go through extreme lengths such as the antis (the witch hunters and the death threat sendrers lol). i'd rather avoid taking sides and just stay away from content that makes me uncomfortable and i know is wrong.

i'm not very strong on the shipping community, any ship art i make is essentially just drawn for fun - i don't intend to market my blog as shipping content. however, i won't accept art request with illegal and messed up ships (extreme age gaps, inc-st, none of that please!)

thank you for bringing this up. i realized that people might need this clarification after bringing up some ships in my blog. hope you all have a good day!

#wyllaztopia rambles #tw death threats #tw mention #tw harassment #long post #asks

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eggtartz · 1 year

Note

Hello! I found your blog recently and appreciate your writing. I looked to see if requests are open but didn't find anything so if it's closed please ignore this. Can I ask for TR boys (Haitani brothers + Shuji) that they left without say anything and come back years later wanting s/o back but think s/o already have someone else and they see s/o with someone and think it's a boyfriend but it's like, the cousin? And they just get these thoughts of s/o already having someone else and when they ask s/o just clarify? A bit angst with happy ending, please (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

a/n : no worries anonnie my requests are always open! they're closed if i close the requests box and i never close them so request away! thankyou for requesting this and enjoy 🫶🏻

masterlist

ran wasn't someone who got attached, he usually forgets people's face but you were an exception. he gave his everything to you and you did the same however everything comes to an end. ran had to leave roppongi to pursue his position as a bonten executive and one of the conditions mikey has set is no relationships whatsoever. he allows hookups but no permanent relationship. ran was heartbroken but he couldn't bare the pain informing that news to you. how could him when you happily hug him every night when he has trouble sleeping, when you cook that delicious chicken soup everytime he gets into a fight, when you patch him although his injuries was severe and you had fear of blood. so ran did what he had to. he left you, without a trace, without any news. nothing. the next morning he was gone, his heart felt heavy however he knew this was the best for you.

some years later, ran has finally achieved some freedom in becoming an executive in bonten that allows him to have relationships. he immediately went back to find you again, he had little of hope because he thought you already have moved out but oh how wrong was he. extremely wrong.

he saw you, his loved one happily laughing with someone else. ran's eyes started to teared up but he blinked away those tears and shove all his thoughts. 'of course they already move on, ran you idiot. they can't be waiting for you anymore'

while you, who caught a glimpse of ran's figure snapped your neck at that direction only to find him gone. you chased him down the street, leaving your cousin in the cafe. 'it can't be him, it can't be'. ran has disappeared for so many years, you failing in finding the reason why. the day he left, you couldn't think straight because you kept blaming yourself for what he did. he left. and he the fact that he didn't said a word about it, made it more heart wrenching.

"ran haitani!" ran's body shivered at your voice, that voice he misses so much that he almost gave up his position in bonten just to be with you again. seeing you again like this in flesh made him weak, but he must have enough courage to face you again. you have found someone else anyways.

"oh y/n? oh i was just wandering around here you know to uh you know?" he stuttered a lot while averting his gaze. you huffed and puffed, trying to keep calm and your emotion at bay but it was getting harder when your boyfriend, ran was right fucking there.

"shut it haitani. what's wrong huh? what happened? you're expecting me to just be okay with you gone missing for years?! explain haitani or help me god i'll choke you right here, right now!" ran understood why you were mad, you had every reason to be upset but a small piece of his heart was selfish.

"what happened y/n? what, you couldn't wait for me?" ran hissed back at you making you stunned. your tongue froze at his venomous tone, you couldn't believe this was once your lovable boyfriend. guess time does change anyone.

"what? what do you mean?"

"that guy! you're dating someone else right? if you have moved on, then go! i don't owe you any explanation!" you shooked your head in disbelief. this dumbass, you thought.

"that isn't my date, that's my fucking cousin you dickhead!" you shouted at his face, his eyes widening. now if he remembers well, he does recount you have a cousin the same age as you.

"uh oh i don't. i don't know what to say" ran rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, he just made a fool of himself.

"oh i don't know ran, maybe a fucking apology i guess?" you glared at him and he smiled. the man smiled because he saw you, you from years ago. that same frown, that same nose scrunch. annoyed you walked away from him

"wait y/n let's go on a date again! like the old days!"

rindou was left with no choice but to leave where he was currently, the gang fightings was getting intense also there were more threats than before. he have discussed with ran and the siblings decided to leave the area, leaving everything, everyone behind. it pained rindou, but it was for the better. you were going to be safe, that'd all that matters to rindou.

rindou and ran has decided that they'll be back when the area is a bit peaceful and they did just that after several months. rindou has dyed his hair, in case anyone would recognize him and become a threat however sources had told him that the area was now 'clean'. so he did the thing he wanted to do first.

find you.

for you, you were coping with rindou's sudden actions that you didn't left to go anywhere but loath in your apartment, the same apartment you have shared with rindou long ago. the only person that kept visiting you to take care of your needs was your cousin. unfortunately, rindou has a different interpretation about this situation and thought he was your boyfriend. rindou's eyes saddened, the bouquet in his hands fell. he now realized that he was too late, too late to see you.

he saw what he thought is you hugging your cousin but it was actually you crying in his chest about how much you think of rindou, not acknowledging he was right there at the doorstep. rindou left with a thud that alerted your cousin so he left to check the sound when he saw rindou walking away.

"you? wait, stop!" hey come back!" your cousin yelled making you curious too but your nose was sniffling, body was tired that you couldn't move.

"what? what is that you want huh?" rindou asked in frustration, hand clenching around nothing as he remembered how tight you hugged this guy. again, he couldn't be mad because it was him who left you. not the other way around.

"you're rindou right? y/n boyfriend? hey why did you disappear huh? what's the matter with you?" your cousin confronted the very man who have hurt you although that wasn't his intention. "why would you care? go back to y/n. you guys go and live a happy life or whatever" rindou shrugged and walked away again.

that angered your cousin, especially with how he actually thought you and him were a thing so your cousin landed his fist in rindou's face. "are you always this dense?! im y/n's cousin idiot!"

"what?"

"yeah, that why people should communicate instead of running away! y/n's suffering here because of you rindou and you're being this selfish?"

rindou's steps were stiff but his damn legs were running and they were running towards one direction. the direction that lead to you.

"y/n!"

"ri-rindou?"

hanma has become a refugee for a some time so he always moved out to several places in a short amount of time but he never leaves you behind. never, as he think he would die without you being at his side. however the police has detected his tracks and when hanma was informed about that, he knew he couldn't drag you into this.

you two were still teenagers, especially you who has a much brighter future than he does. and you going to juvie due to helping a refugee would be a big flaw. therefore, hanma has left without a word, not wanting to involve you in any if dirty business anymore but he swore he'll come back once everything gets sorted out.

and he did came back. only for him to be heartbroken again. see, he has expected this but seeing it happening in real life just added salt to the wound. you were moving in at a new apartment it seems, a male figure helping you move your belongings in your apartment. boyfriend? fiancee? husband? hanma thought.

hanma couldn't look at you anymore so he left without a word, again.

"phew thanks i don't think i can move this boxes by myself!"

"don't mention y/n. if you didn't asked my mom would nag me for sure and make me help you anyway" he said. yeah, aunt was insisted that his son helped you moving in since they lived decently close. the day moved quickly when you have settled n your cozy apartment alone while hanma was crying while being soaked in the tobacco scent.

the next morning as how hanma thought it was pathetic, he dropped your favorite flower at your doorstep with no messages. he himself doesn't know why he did that, he just did. you just woke up hours later, going out to check your mails when you stepped on the poor flowers on your doorstep. from then, every morning your doorstep would have your favourite flower but you knew. he was the only one that knows your favorite flower. hanma shuji.

so after a week you decided to wake up a little bit early and catch hanma on action. surely he stepped at your door, inhaled the flower and left it there. when he was about to leave with his motorcycle you ran and pounced on his back.

"dumbass! idiot! zombie! you suck!" you said while repeatedly hitting his back while hanma struggled to stop your fury without hurting you. "whoa okay you're mad i get it! you're mad!"

"you don't get it hanma, you don't!" your punches were consistent and didn't show any signs to stop that was until you were panting, your fists of fury slowed. "you.. left me.. when you knew! you could have told me that the police were coming! i knew how to handle it!" you said with a shaky voice while sniffing his scent that you have missed so much.

"you.. know?"

"yes shuji. you were in the news"

"stop y/n. stop, your boyfriend is gonna see us"

"boy- you idiot! this! is why! you're! the biggest! idiot on earth!" you then continued your punches in his back, this time adding damage by pulling his hair painful enough. "ow, ow! why am i the idiot huh?"

"that's my cousin you dimwit!"

"you never had a cousin y/n"

"yeah, he just came back from overseas. not like a certain someone that decides to just i don't know leave flowers here. you thought i wouldn't notice it was you?"

hanma scratched his head, not itchy at all. he laughed a little "oh well, sorry doll. wanna come down and start everything over again?"

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donaweasley · 1 year

Text

A Walk in the Dark

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Plot:

After an awkward incident involving your one and only crush George Weasley, he tries to sort the uncomfortable situation out. But will it lead to some revelations or...just a heartache?

Previous chapter: Everything is Fair in Love and War

Warnings: Teenage, high school fluff.

Read time: ~10 mins

Note: I've assumed that the reader is 14 years of age here but you're free to put in any number you like! And you can put the reader in any house you wish to!

Next story in the sequence coming up!!

The morning was eventful, with Fred, Ron, Ginny and Molly of all people, assuming that George and (Y/N) had shared their first kiss in the redhead’s room while the rest were downstairs. Yes, pretty much embarrassing, given the fact that the visitor was buried deep in her humongous crush on her said best friend. And disappointing, too, given that George was furious at them, which subsequently made her conclude that he was repelled at the thought of any kind of romance with his best friend.

The rest of the day was awkward. (Y/N)’s heart was wearing a frown but she had to keep her bubbly personality up to show everyone that she didn't give a damn about who thought what about George and her. She did, to be honest, give a damn...or two...quite a lot, actually. George had calmed down but she found him being slightly uncomfortable around her. She attributed it to her own dejected mind, and called it a figment of her imagination.

After dinner that night, when they were all seated in the living room, George slipped in to sit beside his bestie for a brief moment.

"Wait until everyone's gone", he breathed into her ear. His warmth, once again, aroused those tickles in her stomach which had taken the poor girl almost all day to quieten.

For the rest of the night, she couldn't focus on the conversation anymore as her head was muddled with questions as to why he might have asked her to stay back.

Why?

"You okay, (Y/N)?" She almost jumped out of her seat when Ginny called her.

"What? Yeah. Yes. I'm okay. Just...just thinking that I haven't called my parents for two days now. I should call them tomorrow. Can you please remind me?"

"Yup. Okay!" She smiled reassuringly.

"Great! So we're all going out tomorrow evening", Ron's face brightened up.

As the night grew older, the group of friends became more and more tired, and most of them eventually retired to bed. Had (Y/N) not been on the verge of imploding, she would have probably fallen asleep on the couch.

The twins and (Y/N) were usually the last to go to bed. So, there they were, seated on the floor near the couch. Fred was just about to jump to another topic when George stopped him.

"Fred, you go, I'll be coming in a while", he said.

Fred stared at his twin as if the latter had grown another head.

"After what you did this morning, I don't owe you an explanation. I owe you a prank. Pulled on you", George clarified before Fred could ask anything.

This made her giggle.

"Fine, I'm going but..." Fred tried to feign a tragic face.

"That's okay, brother, I won't make out with her", the younger twin put an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder.

"Hey!" Thoroughly embarrassed, she tried to give him an offended look.

"What? You want me to make out with you?"

She just prayed that neither of them would see the heat creeping up her ears.

"Shut up, George. It's not funny."

Fred sat there staring at the duo with furrowed brows while George and (Y/N) chuckled nervously.

"Alright, then", Fred finally spoke up, "I'll leave. (Y/N), I hope that you won't break my heart." Very theatrically, the older twin put a hand over his chest.

"I'll remember, drama queen!"

With a quick hug, Fred left her with his brother but not before glancing at them over his shoulder with a wicked smile plastered on his face. And once again, George and (Y/N) descended into that uncomfortable silence.

"So?" She broke the silence.

"So..."

George pondered for a while.

"Care for a walk?" He finally said.

"Now? This late?"

"Don't worry, I won't bite", he winked, and she melted into a puddle beside him. It was a relief that he didn't notice.

Probably. Hopefully.

"It's not your bite that I fear, mister. It's the...dogs...and other..things", She said quietly.

"You mean, ghosts?"

"Shh!"

George laughed. "You forget that you're living with a ghoul here!"

(Y/N) shuddered at the mere thought of it. She had never seen it although the sounds and the stories were enough to scare the shit out of her.

"Really?" George was still laughing, "after all these years of living with ghosts at the school, you're still scared?"

"They are ghosts of Hogwarts! They are a part of the school. Okay, I'll go. Let's drop this topic. Right. Now."

"Alright! But I can't guarantee anything."

"Guarantee what?"

"Well...y'know...about what we might meet on the way."

"Shut up! I'm not scared! I'll have you by my side!" She wrapped an arm around his.

"Aha? What if I am not me...?"

"Shove off!" She pushed him away. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

George was laughing. "Okay! Okay! Come."

He pulled her up and gently pushed her towards the door.

It was refreshing outside. The moon was a thin curve against the clear starlit sky. The cool breeze and the quietude soon made (Y/N) forget the events of the day and the turmoil in her mind calmed down a bit. But as soon as George stepped beside her, her “stupid” mind - as she called it - transformed the entire scenario into a romantic one.

Ugh!

"It was getting stuffy inside", George smiled.

"Yes, it was...kind of. … Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Why you brought me here, of course."

"Why? Can't a guy ask his best friend out on a walk?" He feigned hurt.

She rolled my eyes, "Of course, he can. But you forget that I know you only too well to know when you simply need a walk and when you're bursting to say something."

He smiled sheepishly, "Caught me, huh?"

"As always!"

"Okay", he inhaled deeply, and the butterflies in her stomach started fluttering violently in anticipation.

"This might sound odd. No, it's definitely going to sound odd", he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

Oh, those usual signs of nervousness! But why is he nervous?

Inside her head, a voice was screaming in anticipation, "Oh! C'mon, just say it Georgie!!"

"Okay, look. What happened in the morning...y'know with my family saying those weird things and all...well, you're not mad, are you?"

"What? No! Not at all!" She tried to sound absolutely casual. "Why?"

"No, it's just...it was awkward, and..."

"And?"

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, "I noticed that you were a bit off after that. So..."

"Oh!" She had to come up with a lie, and quickly. "I was just thinking that...umm... it's so much fun at your house, and I'll have to leave in 5 days. Yeah. That was what made me sad." She gave him her widest smile.

He smiled back, clearly not convinced at the flimsy explanation, "You sure?"

"Yes. Of course." She noticed him looking suspiciously at her, and so she looked away.

"You looked somewhat uncomfortable yourself. All okay?" She smartly diverted the questions towards him.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine”, he replied nervously.

"You sure?" She tried to mimic him.

George laughed, "Yes. It's just that", he stopped walking, "I was worried about what you might be thinking. You looked slightly upset."

He was looking at anywhere but her, and shifting his weight on his feet. "I don't want to lose my best friend, y'know", he finally looked at her after a pause.

"Best friend", She thought. "I wish I were a little more than that to you, Georgie."

"You won't", She smiled and took his hand in hers. "Never." She held out her pinkie towards him.

"Pinkie promise?" He laughed. "Really?"

"Umm, yeah! Let's say this is our version of the unbreakable vow."

"Okay", he locked his pinkie with hers, "done!"

"Done!"

They both laughed. And then somewhere in that happy moment the laughter faded away and was replaced by silence. A comfortable silence where only their eyes and smiles spoke. For a moment (Y/N) thought that she saw the same love in his eyes as she held for him.

But no. That’s impossible. He has just confirmed it himself. I’m his best friend. Only his best friend.

She decided to act before her emotions got the better of her.

"Let's go", She tugged lightly on his little finger which was still locked with hers.

"Oh!" His smile dropped, "You're sleepy?"

"No. I just...I don't know. You want to stay here longer? I don't mind. It's pretty nice out here anyway"

"No, it's okay, we can go. No problem. Besides, who knows what might be lurking in the shadows." He looked around with a frown but his eyes shouted "mischief".

"Ha ha! You can't scare me, Weasley. Besides, I have my best friend with me. He'll protect me", She smiled at him.

"Yeah, you can count on that", he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

I wish you knew what you're doing to me, Georgie!

"So", he spoke in that peculiar tone which was always followed by a mischief, "I remember you saying that you are not afraid of...my bite!"

For the God-knows-how-many-times that day her ears heated up again.

"Where are you headed exactly?" She asked him with furrowed brows.

"Just saying", he shrugged, "what if I'm a vampire in disguise? See, I have brought you this far from home, on a dark night, in the wee hours. And I'm so attractive that you couldn't say no to me. Now", he leaned closer, "what if I grow fangs and-"

She punched his chin.

"Ow! You little villain, you!"

"Oh! Did the little, weak human hurt the mighty vampire?"

He groaned.

"Now stop that acting, and let's go home before they start thinking that we have gone off snogging again."

At this, George straightened up and forgot all about his drama. (Y/N) raised a brow at him. Smiling sheepishly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder once again, and they started off towards the Burrow.

"You know, George, if you try to scare me once again, I'll bite you."

George chuckled, "I wish!"

"What?" She froze.

"What?" His eyes were as big as saucers.

(Y/N) stared at him. "What did you just say?"

"What did I just say?" He gulped nervously. "I said 'you wish!'. Yes, I said 'Hah! You wish!'"

"Noooo..." She was sure she heard something else.

"Oh! (Y/N), you're hearing things. What else would I say? Come now, let's get inside before you start seeing things."

He pulled her towards his home which was now only a few more steps away. His words were still ringing in her ears. She looked up at him. Even in the dark, she could make out the tint of pink on his cheeks.

What the hell is going on?

They stepped inside, and George carefully locked the door.

"Care for some snacks?" He asked a bit nervously.

"Nope. I'll just get some sleep."

"Yeah. Me too."

He walked her till Ginny's door.

"Alright, good night, mate", he held out his fist.

"Good night", she punched it lightly.

Instead of heading upstairs to his room, George still stood there as if debating with his thoughts. Both the twins and (Y/N) usually hugged before going to bed but given the incidents of the day, it wouldn't be a surprise if they were having second thoughts.

After watching George's unrest state for a few seconds, she decided to drop her guard and take action.

"Hey", she touched his arm, "come here."

She wrapped her arms around his waist. It seemed to work instantly because she felt him relax. The next second, his long arms had her enveloped in a bear hug, swaying her lightly.

"Thanks", he smiled when they pulled apart.

"Idiot!"

"What? Why?"

"Nothing. Now go. It's pretty late."

He stood there, waiting for an explanation.

"Goooo!" She turned him around and pushed him.

He laughed, "Okay, as you say. Good night!"

"Good night", she smiled.

That night, (Y/N) went to bed with a heavy heart, knowing that the boy on whom she had been crushing for so many months now, sees her only as his best friend.

That night, George went to bed wondering if he had let go of the only chance of conveying his feelings to the girl who he had been in love with for over a year now.

***

Taglist:

@olivetheoryx @yep4nai @scram1326 @ariaterum @persephone13 @gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley @nunanuggets @lolhelpimtired @madmadgirlperson @dontfallinlovelol @r4ttusr4ttus @emilykolchivans @queerponcho @loveforweasley @turvi @lovers-111 @waitforiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit @justafangir1 @the-holy-trinity-l @minatozsana @baddiebbarbietngz @moomscore

#george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #hogwarts fandom #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem #george weasley fluff #george weasley cute #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fandom #george weasley love #george weasley series

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ohgaylor · 2 years

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IT MUST BE EXHAUSTING (AN ANALYSIS)

Hi. Taylor’s the problem. And she knows it. (affectionate)

All right friends. It’s time to dive into an analysis again. I’ve been reflecting on a lot of Midnights and Taylor’s ever-present self-deprecation this era and in my regular fashion, I had to make an extremely long-winded analysis post about a certain motif of hers that I’ve noticed has only grown more apparent this time around. and essentially that is her self-awareness toward her ever-ambiguous signaling in regard to her identity, and where she is positioned in the complicated and delicate journey of coming out, as well as the plethora of emotions that surround that for both herself and her fans and those of us who pick up on the queer coded subtext of her music and art.

to kick off this analysis, may I remind you of this beauty of a quote from Taylor’s 2018 reputation tour pride speech that prefaced Delicate?

I want to send my love and respect to everybody who in their journey and in their life hasn't yet felt comfortable enough to come out ... and may you do that on your own time and may we end up with a world where everyone can live and love equally and no one has to be afraid to say how they feel. When it comes to feelings and when it comes to love and searching for someone to spend your whole life with, it’s all just really really delicate.

That is quite possibly my favorite thing she’s ever said. and what inspired this tag.

Now I need to clarify up front — I am never insinuating a need or even desire for Taylor to come out. Because that’s not our place to say. If you’ve been around my blog long enough, I would hope that nuance would be apparent. I simply point out regular motifs and patterns within her art and how it correlates with queer-coded themes of closets, of almost coming out, of outright queer coding, of rainbows, of keeping a love secret and safe, and on and on and on. The signs are there if you know what to look for (re: “I gave so many signs”) and that’s what I explore on my blog. The point is, I will never demand she come out. But I will stand with her in this complex journey she appears to be on. It’s entirely her journey and however she wishes to navigate that is hers to decide.

but that doesn’t detract from the reality that for those of us who see this beautiful queer subtext of her art and music and visuals and work and self, the ambiguity and constant back-and-forth when it comes to her identity (and the idea of coming out) can in fact be a lot to try and process and understand and ultimately to reconcile as we root for her. Trying to understand where she stands is much like chasing a moving target. (not that she owes any explanation to us, because again, she doesn’t.) her art and creativity are her place of expression and catharsis. however, watching her navigate these complexities and trying to root for her in this sometimes messy space is also, dare I say, exhausting.

hence, the title and general theme of this analysis.

so let’s begin.

First, we have this verse in Anti-Hero which is the perfect setup to illustrate this specific motif,

I should not be left to my own devices They come with prices and vices I end up in crises Tale as old as time

This is essentially the thesis of Taylor’s message, the feeling that her own judgement and actions might be the very cause for certain crises she finds herself in, however enticing those vices and choices may be. In choosing to straddle a glass-closeted lifestyle as an artist at her status and level of fame, all the while heavily queer-coding to her (receptive) audiences, only to be seen by most others as the hallmark of straight women as per her highly publicized bearding, juggling this all can be overwhelming. But it’s also a space that she has essentially curated and perpetuated herself.

An anti-hero is a central character in a narrative who conspicuously lacks heroic, moral qualities:

Although antiheroes may sometimes perform actions that are morally correct, it is not always for the right reasons, often acting primarily out of self-interest or in ways that defy conventional ethical codes.

Identifying herself as the anti-hero in this sense comes as a candid confession, as though she is admitting that maybe she is driven by self-interest. (which again, she is entitled to as we all are in our own lives.) (re: the jokes weren’t funny, I took the money, my friends at home don’t know what to say) Alternatively, and perhaps additionally, acting out of self-interest in this context may mean concealment of parts of her identity for the sake of self-preservation. The nuances behind why she hasn’t chosen to come out are at play here and I doubt any of us can fully comprehend what that is exactly.

I never had the courage of my convictions, as long as danger is near

Pouring out my heart to a stranger but I didn’t pour the whiskey

Combat, I'm ready for combat. I say I don't want that, but what if I do? 'Cause cruelty wins in the movies. I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you … Dark side, I search for your dark side. But what if I'm alright, right, right, right here?

You can easily grasp the intense oscillation as she goes back and forth between these decisions while juggling a myriad of reasons and factors, all of which are incredibly weighted. She knows it’s exhausting for us because it’s that much more exhausting for herself.

So, she elects to pursue a route all too familiar to closeted individuals in the public eye, one of bearding and concealing their identity.

I had some tricks up my sleeve … Perched in the dark, telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear, like it could be love, I could be the way forward, only if they pay for it … the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up

I took the money. My friends from home don't know what to say.

The cost at which this lifestyle comes is worthy of an analysis all on its own. But Taylor seems to be indicating that she has found safety and security in her self-made cages and closets of sorts.

I prefer hiding in plain sight

‘Cause shade never made anybody less gay

If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

My town was a wasteland, full of cages, full of fences*, pageant queens and big pretenders. But for some, it was paradise.

In the darkest little paradise

(also, note the *fences. I’ll come back to that later.)

She brings focus to the fact that her town was full of cages and fences, which initially may carry a negative connotation. But here’s where she turns it around and says that for some, it was place of paradise, that the self-made cages brought security and freedom. That the idea of “forever” is in fact the sweetest con. That the good life she was hustling for through the tricks she had up her sleeve is within grasp. That this could be the way forward. Tell me that doesn’t scream a queer-coded experience?

But knowing Taylor and the complicated nature of this deeply personal topic, there is also a level of remorse regarding the said-cages and choices that had put her in crisis.

I cut off my nose just to spite my face, then hate my reflection for years and years

I’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you

I’d pay if you’d just know me

Now, despite the way she has managed to remain glass-closeted, a large subset of her fans and the general public completely miss what she is signaling in regard to her queerness. (re: “I gave so many signs / you didn’t even see the signs”) but it appears she is feeling some remorse for the devices she’s used and the way she’s navigated things because she knows that she’ll be the one paying for it.

So again, Taylor fully acknowledges she’s the problem. She endlessly dances around the topic, sometimes to an extreme (re: “bent the truth too far tonight,” Bettygate and specifying a male perspective despite widespread interpretation of the alternative; similar thing with Lavendergate, etc etc) She writes from “male perspectives” so as to have a way to write female pronouns. She uses pseudonyms for similar motives. She equates herself with gay pride and places herself adjacent to the community repeatedly, and dances in Gaylor Park and rainbow kaleidoscopes. She dresses in rainbow attire and gives speeches emphasizing the delicacy of coming out and on and on, all while also remaining straight-passing. It’s complicated and messy and indeed exhausting.

sending signals to be double-crossed

I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

no doubt these devices and choices have come at a cost. first, the personal cost of remaining closeted (or in the very least, glass closeted) by her own making. The nature by which she has driven her career, of “taking the money” and pursuing a career (and by extension, following heteronormative cultural standards of remaining closeted), all point to the self-made cages she twists in.

recall the Delicate pride speech…

I want to send my love and respect to everybody who in their journey and in their life hasn't yet felt comfortable enough to come out ... and may you do that on your own time

That is a major theme for her. The idea that through a closeted state, certain freedoms can coexist.

We know Taylor has made a point to emphasize the comfort she has found in keeping elements of her life to herself post her apocalyptic summer. And the way she has largely receded her personal life from the public eye is telling. In an effort to protect the “real stuff”, she is withholding from others and has found safety in that.

Privacy sign on the door and on my page and on the whole world, romance is not dead if you keep it just yours.

She knows it’s not always a world that some would choose to be a part of. She describes it as a wasteland, likely desolate, harkening back to cowboy like me. A place where hustling for the good life, perching in the dark as con artists (or pageant queens and big pretenders) and telling all the rich folks anything they want to hear like “it could be love” is all too familiar.

It’s a painful dichotomy she fully explores in The Archer, recognizing that maybe it’s her lot in life to straddle these lines of staying where she is, perched in the dark, while wanting to step into the daylight and let it go.

and that’s where the second cost comes in — in how those of us who see her for what she is signaling herself to be, are ultimately left to ourselves to make sense of it.

It’s the same kind of essence of this fantastic analysis regarding coney island and her apology of not making us certain subsets of her fans and communities her centerfold.

Being left to her own devices, she has ultimately crafted a duplicitous persona, of which she has spoken about specifically when discussing mirrorball…

Everybody else feels like they have to be on for certain people. You have to be different versions of yourself for different people. Different versions at work, different versions around friends, different versions of yourself around different friends. Different version of yourself around family. Everybody has to be duplicitous, or feels that they have to in some ways, be duplicitous. And that’s part of the human experience, but it’s also exhausting. You kind of learn that every one of us has the ability to become a shape-shifter. But what does that do to us?

Is it self-preservation? Or self-made self-destruction? (re: “they told me all of my cages were mental” “what a shame she’s fucked in the head” “lost in the labyrinth of my mind”)

Among the various anxieties that plague her in regard to this subject, Taylor makes one fear very clear. And that is for some inevitable day where we will leave her after we’ve had enough of “her scheming”.

'Cause they see right through me, they see right through me, they see right through. Can you see right through me?

I wake up screaming from dreaming One day I'll watch as you're leaving 'Cause you got tired of my scheming For the last time

These desperate prayers of a cursed man spilling out to you for free, but darling, darling, please, you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking if you knew where I was walking

Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

She will get as close as she can to the topic, (“Gay pride… everything that makes me me!” to name just one) only to pull back or leave it ambiguous and devoid of clarity…

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face Then I hate my reflection for years and years

…only to feel guilt for skirting around the topic…

You said I was freeloading … I bent the truth too far tonight, I was dancing around, dancing around it … Your picket fence is sharp as knives, I was dancing around, dancing around it

This to me is the a significant price that comes from her being left to her own devices. Yes, there is freedom that comes from closeting/bearding. But glass closeting brings a more painful mess of emotions for both the closet-er and those seeing it for what it is. This is what she addresses in Anti-Hero with painful clarity.

And sometimes this can come at a painful cost. Take YNTCD for example. In this video, she positions herself within the queer community, dancing in Gaylor Park, and boldly declares herself an advocate for LGBTQIA rights.

But as we know, the video was met by many as out-of-touch (re: “freeloading”), performative and whatever else critics were spewing.

motion capture put me in a bad light. I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where I went wrong. writing letters addressed to the fire

Now for a detour.

I want to talk about the purple / blue / lavender glitter for a minute. Here, in the Directors on Directors interview, Taylor describes the glitter as being a metaphor for herself...

It’s supposed to be a metaphor for like, I bleed glitter, I’m not normal, there’s something wrong with me, I’m not a person, I don’t belong, I don’t fit in anywhere.

Recall how I said chasing a moving target?

Let’s talk about the significance of this scene and a handful of others in terms of the lavender glitter.

[For some queer context regarding glitter]

I’d first like to point out Hayley Kiyoko’s purple glitter jacket above, from the YNTCD video. This is Hayley Kiyoko we’re talking about. The proclaimed Lesbian Jesus. And in this moment, while she is wearing the purple glitter jacket, she is aiming an arrow at a target, signifying The Archer. This moment is key.

And then you have the Miss Americana documentary, wherein Taylor explicitly equates herself with gay pride, while talking about the Me! music video.

It’s a line of dialogue that screams at me with such intensity. Irrefutable. As a film editor, I know that every line in a film is deliberately placed and thought out and meticulously addressed. And therefore we can trust that Taylor intended for this line to make it into the film. I can tell that surrounding dialogue is seemingly trimmed and crafted in a delicate way. And part of that is the very direct statement that “Gay pride…everything that makes me, me!”

And it’s within this music video that we again witness a massive “ME!” literally jumping out at us on screen, in none other than purple glitter.

A handful of others could sense that the conclusion of Miss Americana felt as thought it was headed in a different direction than the one it ultimately took. And that for whatever reason, Taylor’s political advocacy took center stage while a deeper analysis regarding her LGBTQIA advocacy did not.

Cut back to the Anti-Hero music video where we get The Archer aiming right for Taylor, and striking her, causing her to bleed, yet again, purple glitter.

Pierced through the heart but never killed… did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism, like some kind of congressman

My covert (secret) narcissism (ME!) I disguise as altruism like some kind of congressman (the political turn and advocacy present in Miss Americana)

In other words, covering up who she is (“gay pride… everything that makes me me!”) under the guise of a film almost exclusively focused on her journey of discovering her political (“Vote for me for everything” pin) activist voice. And what scene depicts this with near precision???

this one.

motion capture put me in a bad light. I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where I went wrong. writing letters addressed to the fire

'cause cruelty wins in the movies, I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

The subsequent look on her face of absentminded agony says it all. She knows the confusion that comes from rooting for her as (especially if she is seen as an ally who maybe crosses one too many lines if presumably as straight.)

The inner-turmoil on display for us in The Archer has transformed into a tone all too exhausted in its own right within Anti-Hero. She knows we’re tired. She’s tired too. In a self-deprecating jab, she admits that she is the problem and she knows that everybody ultimately agrees with her on this. Shielded within a pop anthem, her vulnerability is on display. And so, in Dear Reader, with equal parts desperation as well as wit, she concludes…

You should find another guiding light, guiding light. But I shine so bright.

And so it is ultimately within this utterly messy, exhausting, complicated, ever-changing and nuanced journey that Taylor reaches out to those of us who do in fact see through her and who ultimately simply see her, that she asks us in all sincerity…

Who could stay? Who could stay? Who could stay? You could stay.

And I, for one, will stay.

[enjoy my other analyses here]

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neon-lights-and-glitter · 1 year

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Fight The Feeling Prologue- Part 11 Breakups and Fights

Summary- Urban tells you that Jack is cheating on you, and you and Jack break up, but not for the reason you were expecting.

About a week after you found out Jack was cheating on you, Urban stayed home one day while Jack went to set. Urban knew Jack was cheating, and ever since he found out a couple days after it started, he felt guilty about keeping it from you. Every time Urban asked Jack about it, Jack would tell him that he was going to tell you soon.

After Urban found out about another girl Jack cheated on you with, though just once, not multiple times like he had with Alexa, Urban had enough. Urban wasn’t sure why Jack continued to cheat on you when he still claimed he loved you. Jack did feel bad about continuing to cheat on you, but he did it because he didn’t want your forgiveness. Jack knew you were a very forgiving person, but he knew that he hurt you and that you shouldn’t forgive him.

Jack also needed to know for himself that once he told you, that you weren’t going to forgive him. Jack didn’t want to sit and wonder months later if he could have gotten your forgiveness. In a way, continuing to cheat and hurt you would lead to closure in your relationship for Jack, even if that meant that he had to live with the guilt of hurting the best person he had ever met, and probably would ever meet.

Urban waited a little bit after Jack left to sit you down and tell you about Jack.

“Look, Y/N, I don’t want to be the one to tell you this. I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this, but as your friend I can’t let this keep happening. Jack’s uh, he’s.” You could tell what Urban was going to say, and that he didn’t want to, so you said it for him.

“Cheating on me?” You asked and Urban nodded slightly. “I know.” You admitted. It felt weird to say out loud, it made it seem real as you admitted it for the first time.

“Wait, how do you know?” Urban asked, confused.

“I, I saw some texts, that I wasn’t supposed to, from Alexa.” You told him.

“Why are you still with him then?” Urban asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re still here, but I wouldn’t blame you if you left.” Urban clarified.

“I still love him.” You admitted, your eyes tearing up. “I just want Jack to be honest with me, I mean there has to be a reason he cheated. Was it something I did? Does he suddenly not love me anymore because I thought everything was fine. I just want an explanation because I feel like we could work things out.” You said, letting your tears fall for the first time. “I know that sounds so fucking stupid, but I love him and it’s hard for those feelings to just go away overnight.”

You had thought about the situation you were in with Jack, but this was the first time you had talked about it to someone. Urban sighed softly, pulling you in for a hug.

“You don’t sound stupid. Jack owes you an explanation, but I don’t think you did anything for him to cheat on you, but that’s a conversation you’ll have to have with Jack.” Urban said, rubbing your back to try and comfort you.

“I know I’m just hurting myself more by staying, and I know I should leave, but I just need to hear him out, and if that ends in us working things out, or if it ends in a breakup, then that’s okay. I’ll deal with it if I have to.” You said.

“You know, no matter what, I’ll always be here for you. I know I’ve known Jack longer, but you’ve become just as much my friend as he is, you’re not getting rid of me that easy.” Urban said.

“Oh, I literally just moved to Kentucky, so you’re not getting rid of me at least until my lease is up.” You told Urban and he laughed softly. “Thank you for telling me though. I really do apricate it.”

“Of course. You don’t deserve to be cheated on, and I know you don’t want to leave him, and I get that, but I think you two at least need time apart. Jack needs to figure his shit out, you can always forgive him in, like, a year but I don’t think you should forgive him right away.” Urban said and you nodded.

“I just don’t want to be the one to bring it up. I am pissed at him, obviously, but it would be nice for him to at least be honest with me. I thought I would spend the rest of my life with him. I never thought that we would be in the position where that might not be, and probably won’t be the case.” You said, Urban sighed softly.

“I thought you two would spend the rest of your lives together too.” Urban admitted.

“You did?” You asked.

“Yeah, I truly did think you two were perfect for each other.” Urban said, not telling you about the fact that Jack had boughten an engagement ring. “I still think you could be if Jack gets his shit together, but you can’t make it easy on him to make it up to you.” Urban told you.

“Do you think he’ll try?” You asked, playing with the charm on your necklace.

“I don’t know. I hope he does. I don’t want to speak for him, but he does still say he loves you.”

“Do you know why he cheated?”

“That’s something you need to talk to him about.” Urban told you and you nodded slightly.

Urban spent the rest of the day trying to distract you from your situation with Jack, watching movies and making random snacks, which didn’t really work, but you appreciated the effort. You also appreciated that Urban told you that Jack was cheating on you. You didn’t expect him to, assuming he wouldn’t, if he even knew. It was nice having someone to be able to talk to about the situation, and over the next week you talked to Urban about Jack often. Urban was able to ‘convince’ you that you and Jack did need time apart. You knew he was right before he even said it, you just needed someone to talk about it with.

A week later, you and Jack were at the house alone, Urban went out for the night. Jack decided this was his best opportunity to finally tell you what he had been doing. Ever since the first time Jack cheated on you, he had felt horrible about it, even though he had continued to do it.

“Y/N?” Jack asked, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“Yeah?” You asked, looking up from your phone.

“Can we talk?” He asked and you nodded, sitting up.

“Yeah, sure, about what?” You asked, you knew what he was going to say. Even though you knew, you were nervous. Over the last two weeks, you had thought about this conversation several times, going over what was going to be said thousands of times, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant of a conversation to have. You knew by the end of this conversation you and Jack were going to be broken up, and it was a weird feeling.

“I-I don’t know how to tell you this.” Jack sighed, running his hands through his curls.

“Hey.” You said, grabbing his hands, holding them in yours. “You can tell me anything.” You told Jack, comforting him even though you weren’t sure why.

“I think we need to take a break. Focus on our careers for a little while.” Jack sighed. “I don’t want to, but I think it’s what best for both of us right now. I’m about to go out on tour, and as much as I want you to come with me, it’s just not possible with both of our careers. I don’t know the next time we’ll be able to see each other after this until after tour, and I don’t want you to have to wait around for me.” Jack lied to you.

Out of every situation you thought of for this conversation, you didn’t see it going like this. You were expecting Jack to be honest with you and tell you he cheated.

Jack had every intention to be honest with you when he sat down, but something at the last second stopped him. Jack didn’t want to completely break your heart, and even though his explanation made no sense, you two were together for his previous tour, he thought it was better than telling you he had cheated.

“What?” You asked, your eyes immediately starting to tear up as you dropped his hands.

“I’m sorry.” Jack whispered and you stood up from the bed.

“No. You don’t get to be fucking sorry.” You yelled at him. In the moment, you weren’t focused on the cheating. “What happened to us going public with our relationship after you’re done filming?”

“I don’t think it’s the right time for that. I just, I don’t know. I thought about it a lot and I still love you, but I just think we need to focus on our careers for a little bit.”

“So, you’re just going to make that decision for both of us?” You asked, tears streaming down your face. Jack tried to say something, but you cut him off before he could. “I can’t fucking believe you Jack. I loved you and you’re just giving up on us?” You wanted to confront Jack on the cheating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to bring it up, you were thrown off, so you didn’t even have time to process anything other than what Jack was telling you.

While you were yelling at Jack, you had gotten your suitcase out and were throwing your stuff into it.

“I love you too. I’m not giving up on us, I just think it would be easier for both of us if we took a break.” Jack argued.

“Well taking a break sure sounds a lot like giving up to me.” You said, Jack sighed.

“Don’t leave, it’s late. Let’s talk about everything and then if you want to leave, you can leave in the morning.” Jack suggested. “I don’t want you leaving by yourself this late.”

“You think after you telling me that you want to put your career above our relationship that I’m going to stay? Fuck you. I can’t believe I ever thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you.” You said, throwing more stuff into your bag, not caring if it was folded perfectly like you normally did. “Can I ask you something?” You asked, suddenly stopping what you were doing and looking at Jack.

“Anything.”

“Did you actually love me, or was I just some girl you drug around with you so you could sleep with her? Was our whole relationship a lie to you?” You asked.

“Of course, I fucking loved you. I still do. Nothing I did was just so I could have sex with you. Everything I did was because I love you. We’re both young, and at the heights of our careers. We’d be stupid not to try to focus on that while we can.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. We’d be stupid not to fight for the person we loved. We’ve made our relationship work, for over a year, but now you’re just so willing to give up, I would have never given up on you this easily.” You told Jack.

“I’m sorry.” Jack said again, reaching out to touch your arm but you pulled it away instantly. “Please, just stay tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not fucking staying. If I can’t get a flight tonight, I’ll just get a hotel.”

“Y/N please.” Jack begged as you continued to walk around the house, grabbing your stuff. You were certain you were missing stuff and had probably grabbed some of Jack’s clothes in the process, but you would deal with that later. You just wanted to be out of the house. You heard Urban walk back into the house, he was a little thrown off coming home to the two of you yelling at each other, but he also didn’t question it or want to interrupt.

“Jack, you don’t care about me. Stop pretending you do.” You said, finally closing your suitcase and zipping it up.

“I do care about you. If you don’t think I do, Urban does. I don’t want you in an uber alone at fucking one in the morning.” Jack said as you pulled your suitcase out into the living room. Seeing Urban sitting on the couch. Urban looked at Jack, then looked at you, and he knew exactly what had happened while he was gone. Urban smiled at you sadly.

“Urban, can you take me to the airport.” You asked, looking at him. Jack looked at Urban, shaking his head.

“Just stay here, think about things, and then you can leave in the morning.” Jack told you.

“I would have never done this to you Jack. I wouldn’t have given up on us like this because I loved you. You just had to go and ruin things between us.” You said. “There isn’t anything for me to think about.” You told Jack before looking at Urban again. “Please?” You asked and Urban nodded slightly.

“Yeah, I’ll take you.” Urban told you.

“Thank you, let me go grab my phone.” You said and Urban nodded. You walked back into the bedroom and Jack tried to follow you.

“Y/N, please, don’t leave. I’m sorry, I really am.” Jack said.

“No Jack, you’re right, we do need a break because one of us is clearly more committed to this relationship then the other one. I’m done. We’re done.” You said, grabbing your phone before walking back out into the living room, grabbing your bag, Urban stood there awkwardly as Jack tried to follow you again but just got the door slammed in his face.

“Uh, I take it you told her?” Urban asked, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah, something like that.” Jack sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“I’ll be back.” Urban told Jack before following you out the front door and to the rental car.

On the drive to the airport, you contacted your manager Claire, telling her to send a private jet as soon as possible, and the car was silent other than your quiet sobs. You knew your breakup with Jack was going to hurt, but you at least expected the truth out of him.

“I’m sorry.” Urban sighed softly, reaching over to put his hand on your arm, trying to comfort you the best he could while also driving.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” You said, leaning your head back against the seat. It was silent again until Urban pulled up to the airport.

“Do you have a flight?” Urban asked you, parking the car before looking over at you.

“Yeah, the plane will be here in a couple hours, but I’d rather be here than in a house with Jack right now.” You said and Urban nodded in understanding.

“Do you want to get a hotel room?” Urban asked and you shook your head.

“It won’t be that long, I’ll be fine.” You told him and he nodded. “If you’re missing any clothes, let me know, because quite honestly, I have no idea what I packed.” You said, trying to joke and Urban laughed softly.

“It’s okay, I get it.”

“Promise me you’ll come see me the second you get back home? I’m serious, I don’t want to lose you as a friend just because of everything that happened between Jack and I.” You said, wiping your tears, before getting out of the car, Urban getting out of the car also so he could help you with your bag.

“Promise. As long as you promise to text me when you leave and when you land.” Urban said and you nodded.

“Promise.” You told Urban before he pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Urban rubbed your back slightly as you started to cry again.

“Like I said, it’s not your fault, but thank you.” You said, sighing as you pulled away from the hug. You wiped your tears again.

“Text me if you change your mind and want to get a hotel room, or even just want company.” Urban told you and you nodded.

“I will, but I think I just need a little time to myself right now.”

“That’s fine, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be alone.” Urban said. “Is someone picking you up when you land?”

“Yeah, Madison is going to pick me up.” You said. “Now go back home and get some sleep. I know you have to be up early tomorrow. Thank you for driving me.” You said.

“Of course. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

You and Urban finished saying goodbye, and he waited until you were let into the private flight waiting area before he left. In a few hours you would be back in Kentucky, somewhere that reminded you of Jack, except this time, he wouldn’t be with you.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree @harlowslefttoe @twerkforambrose @jackmans-poison @ilovenudy @taniapri @killatravtramp @easternparkway @macey234 @toocriticalharlow @lightsoutstyles @rachxc13 @iknowdatsrightbih

@idktbh101

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader

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vampyrsutton · 10 months

Text

Good Little Whore Chapter 2

Summary:

Hawks takes an extra day off to make sure he gets to Dabi in time, only for the Commission to completely tank his mood and leave him feeling bratty. Entering the club to find Dabi busy on top of it, Hawks decides to fuck around, and oh hey, if it isn't the consequences of his own actions.

Ao3 Tags:

BDSM, Dom/sub, Dom Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Sub Takami Keigo | Hawks, Dabi | Todoroki Touya is Not a Villain, Trans Takami Keigo | Hawks, Use Of The Hanky Code, Kink Negotiation, Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko is a Good Friend, Hero Public Safety Commission Bashing (My Hero Academia), Dirty Talk, Degradation, AFAB Terminology, Vaginal Fingering, Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Overhaul Being An Asshole, Mentioned Body Horror

Notes:

Commission for AyumixRose!

Bracelets are based on the Hanky Code.

Beta'd By SqueezeBabe!

Chapter 1

“So?” Hawks asks after giving Rumi a long-winded explanation on why he wants an extra day off of work that just so happens to be the day that starts his monthly weekend off.

{Mr. Workaholic is finally begging me to cover a shift after the what, like, 30 that I owe him? And thinks I won’t say yes?} Rumi snorts through the phone. {Damn, if I knew a good dicking is all it would take, I would have told the prickly asshole to grow the fuck up and introduced you to Dabi myself. Yeah, I’ve got you.}

Hawks sighs, not knowing why he even tried to bullshit her, but is thankful all the same. “Thanks, Rumi. Someone got to him first last time, and Spinner and Shiggy are great, buuuut…”

{Not quite as compatible as tall, dark, and stapled?} She finishes in understanding.

“Yeah, it's just not the same.” Hawks half-laughs as he catches a draft higher. “I get one weekend off a month, I want the most out of it, ya know?”

{Yeah, I getcha.} Rumi hums before there’s a beep and she curses. {Shit, well, duty calls. Have fun.}

“You, too…with the fight!” Hawks scrambles to clarify before the line goes dead to her laughing at him. “Yep, I’m gonna get teased about that later.”

Hawks wastes no time in emailing his secretary to cancel any meetings for that day before he gets his own alert to probably head to the same fight and sighs.

Duty calls indeed.

…

Duty needs to stop calling.

By the time Friday rolls around, Hawks is beyond exhausted, and, despite telling his handlers three different times that he would not be coming in before finally siccing Rumi on them, they were still trying to guilt him into coming in.

To say his feathers are ruffled by the time he arrives at the club is an understatement, but whether from anger or guilt, he has yet to figure it out.

“Hey, Kimi.” Hawks mumbles as he pushes through the door, taking off his baseball cap as he goes. “You know if Dabi’s in?”

Kimi frowns at his state but nods. “Hello, Sir. He got in about an hour ago with the others…I am sorry to overstep, but are you okay, Sir?”

Hawks smiles at her slightly, giving his own little nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a long week…day really. Thank you and sorry to be short, but can I just get my usual colors? …and try a fuchsia bracelet this time?”

Kimi offers a reassuring smile as she goes about getting those. “Promise me you will ask for some extra aftercare?”

His smile becomes a bit more genuine at that. “I will…that sounds nice.”

“I’m sure it will feel nice too.” Kimi hums, making a small noise of annoyance before sighing. “Ah, there it is. Compress must have been messing with me again. Here are your bracelets and necklace, Sir. Have fun and stay safe.” She smiles once more. “He’ll be free in about twenty minutes. Someone called ahead.”

“We both know he’ll allow nothing less.” Hawks laughs, feeling a little better knowing he’s going to be taken care of as he slips his bracelets and necklace on and puts the new fuchsia one on his right wrist. “See ya later.”

“See you later, Sir.” She smiles, bowing slightly as he disappears through the door leading downstairs.

He’s a little bummed that Dabi’s busy, having taken the day off specifically to avoid this, but it’s just twenty minutes so he should be able to manage. As usual, he ducks into the locker room to put away his street clothes and change into his shorts before getting his wings into some semblance of order despite the abuse they’re probably about to endure.

He’s just getting ready to shut his locker when his phone starts playing The Imperial March from some American movie that Rumi insisted on setting for the Commission’s ringtone. He finds it grimly fitting right now as he fights his training long enough to let it go to voicemail and reads the text that quickly appears in the drop-down menu.

[It’s not very professional to abandon your duties to a lesser hero. There could be people dying and you’re selfishly wasting time on a day off. We thought we trained you better than this.]

Hawks has never been more relieved for Dabi’s no phones rule as he forces himself to toss the device back into his locker and slam it before stomping out into the playroom. He knows he’s not supposed to go into a scene angry, but he hopes Dabi will fix it for him.

By the time he gets across the hall to the main playroom, he thinks he’s done a pretty good job at schooling his expression into one of the excitement that the annoyance was trying to smother and even manages to make the excitement resurface when Dabi gives him one of his knowing smirks from across the way. He’s already working on bringing his current sub back down from their high.

“ Let me handle aftercare, and I’ll be right over. ” Dabi mouths to which Hawks nods, deciding to lean against the wall to watch for the time being.

Hawks can’t really see the sub from here, more interested in Dabi, but whoever she is, she’s very pretty from what little he can see. As soon as Hawks is situated, she has Dabi’s full attention once more, and Hawks watches how Dabi holds, caresses, and gently talks her back to herself and how she practically melts into his touch. Hawks knows firsthand how heavenly those warm hands feel on scene-worn muscles and based on the knots he’s undoing, they have to feel like a blessing.

He knows this is part of Dabi’s job, being soft with and caring for the subs that pay the club fee, himself included, but it has to be the territorial bird part of his brain that makes him feel so bitter watching him interact with her…or maybe it's the feather that must have gotten stuck in his bag and can feel his phone vibrate with texts.

Yeah, he’ll go with that one.

Whatever the case, he takes the opportunity to duck back out and over to the locker room to scowl at the offending device and retrieve his feather.

This is, of course, a mistake because his phone reacts to the movement and he gets a look at the message.

[Such a disgraceful hero.]

He fucking knows, okay!

He finally turns off the device altogether with an offended chitter before going back across the hall with the intention of being distracted from the little voice in his head telling him the Commission is right.

The sight of Dabi still with the other sub doesn’t help.

“Hey, Hawks!” Twice is the first to get his attention when he re-enters the playroom, the masked man seemingly oblivious to the strained quality of Hawks’ smile. “Wanna play with me a bit? Help me get into puppy space again? Dabi ditched you, huh? Sorry! Sucks to suck! ”

Hawks manages to contain his flinch to his feathers, knowing Twice doesn’t mean it. “Bad night?”

Twice deflates a little but still looks grateful to Hawks for understanding. “You can see why I need it, man. I’m going nuts! ”

Hawks feels bad, he does, but they established last month that Hawks isn’t very good at soothing praise and the discipline Twice needs to get into puppy space, and the last thing the hero needs tonight is another reason to feel like a failure. It’s half the reason he took the bracelet for spanking. He kinda wanted big warm hands and a mean mouth to tell him all the reasons he fucked up until he was crying and raw before the same warm hands and much softer mouth put him back together.

“Sorry, bud. I can’t handle not getting it again tonight, and I need something a little harder, ya know?” Hawks apologizes, internally sighing in relief when Twice just waves him off that it’s fine.

“Yeah, no big deal, dude. Chicken! Compress should be ready in five if you wanna just chat for a few. He’s being a drama king! ” That second interjection didn’t entirely sound like the other voice this time.

“Nah, man, it’s cool. I-” A flash of white caught his eye and he followed the white tie until he found Kai’s eyes boring into his and had to suppress a gulp. Dude was fucking creepy…a short scene couldn’t hurt though, right? “I was actually going to see if Kai was free.”

He didn’t miss how Twice stiffened or how Magne went quiet at the counter behind him, but he chose to ignore it in favor of smiling cluelessly. Had both Kimi and Dabi warned him against Kai? Yes. Was he desperate enough that this arrangement would already be missing the sane in safe, sane, consensual? Maybe.

As though the man had been listening, he seemingly materialized next to them to crinkle his eyes in what was probably supposed to be the equivalent of a disarming smile with a black face mask covering his mouth, but Hawks had a feeling this was the first smile ever to not reach the person’s mouth.

“As a matter of fact, I am, Hawks,” Kai speaks smoothly and it's such a shame he has such a nice voice. “I heard you were interested?”

Multiple instincts were screeching that he was an idiot, but Hawks just smiles. “Just a short little scene, yeah.”

Calculating yellow eyes look him over, taking in his bracelets for a moment before nodding. “Not my agreed upon clientele, but they did say if I was asked for… so I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Hawks catches the movement of Twice creeping behind Kai to shake his head furiously in warning, but how much damage could the possible villain really cause in ten minutes? Hawks would just need to make sure he wasn’t available for that takedown.

Yeah, it’d be fine.

“What,” Dabi growls as he crowds Hawks against a wall in the back corner of the playroom where there aren’t too many wondering eyes, “the fuck were you thinking, bird brain? We all warned you about Kai. Why the fuck would you go with him?”

Hawks flinches, still a little raw from the disaster Dabi just pulled him out of, and lets out a sigh of relief when the Dom immediately relaxes his body language. Even if he still gives the hero no opening for escape, it helps with the still frayed nerves. “Everyone else was busy…”

“Kimi told you I would be ready in twenty minutes and Compress even sooner.” Dabi scoffs, glaring at someone who happens to lock eyes with the furious flame user. They’re fairly sure that’s one of Fatgum’s sidekicks so he should have more manners than to stare anyway. “Are you that much of a self-sacrificing dumbass that you let Mr. Literal Human Furniture anywhere near you? Only the most extreme subs and those avoiding therapy willingly go to him. So again, what the fuck?”

‘He didn’t have to hit the nail on the head that hard.’ Hawks thinks, meaning for his eye roll to be internal and feeling his feathers puff up when Dabi tsks. He decides to double down on his dumb decision.

“I had a long week, okay? How do you know I don’t fall into the first one?” Hawks huffs, crossing his arms petulantly and earning an eyebrow raise, and turquoise eyes immediately drift to said arms as though they hold the answer to Hawks’ question.

Unfortunately, they do.

“I’m talking the ones who have their right arm filled with every bracelet they can.” Dabi huffs, crossing his arms and tilting his head at the comparatively empty arm in question. “Not the ones who like rough sex and some biting. I mean the one’s who purposefully plan their whole month around needing the weekend into possibly Monday or Tuesday sometimes off because they let some psychopath disguised as a sadist beat the shit out of them for the full three days straight and they’re too beaten, bruised, and/or fucked to move from a guest room and one of us have to handle aftercare to make sure they don’t drop. Not someone who has to plan their month around their bosses breaking labor laws though we are in Japan, but not as much as you on that one. The literal human furniture wasn’t a joke. His quirk can do some freaky shit and we’ve seen him do it before. ”

Dabi’s glare hardens further as he huffs another breath.“The most infuriating part is that we’re 90% sure his quirk would let him manipulate their bodies to leave pain free but he’s gotten what he wants by then and doesn’t care. The glaring turquoise returns to looking at gold eyes that are barely hiding their fear behind their defiance. “Is that what you wanted, Birdie?” His eyes soften when Hawks flinches. “Don’t you get enough of that at work, baby bird?”

Hawks wings droop, but he’s still not ready to admit he’s wrong. “You don’t own me, Dabi.”

Instead of the glare returning as he expected, Dabi smirks and kabedons the hero to get more in his space. “Oh, but don’t I, birdie?”

He says it with so much confidence that it makes Hawks hesitate. “...N-no?”

“Are you sure about that, pretty bird?” He hums in a way he by now knows makes wings puff up for him to ghost his free hand over so they’ll flutter from the enticing heat.

“Y-yes?” Right?

“Oh? Do you not know what they send in the club’s chat when someone sees you come in?” Dabi taunts, knowing the mention of secret information will pique the hero’s interest further. The curious head tilt is all the prompting he needs. “They say ‘ Your birdie is here, Dabi’, and let me know what room we’ll be in. If I’m already booked, they figure out who approaches you first. Kai should have never had a chance to approach you tonight or any night for that matter. Not only do we not trust him with you, but you’re considered mine , baby bird. We’re allowed preferences just as much as you are.”

Hawks is flushed almost as red as his wings at the growl in the Dom’s voice as he’s so resolutely claimed, but he also doesn’t want someone to be in trouble for the wrong reasons. “Twice approached first actually…”

A black eyebrow creeps into equally black bangs. “Then how did you end up with that asshole?”

Hawks toes at the ground, sure he’s about to be scolded. “I-um-might have called in an I.O.U. to Rumi for today to get here in time, but the Commission doesn’t like her for a lot of reasons-”

“They can’t control her.” Dabi supplies.

“I don’t think anyone can.” Hawks agrees before snorting. “Thank something she’s a hero, I guess.”

“A decent enough one, I guess.” Dabi shrugs before the scowl works on returning. “What does that have to do with you trying to get maimed?”

Hawks’ wings droop again. “The Commission wasn’t happy with me for taking even a few hours more of my allowed personal day so I’ve been declared various forms of a disgrace of a hero including a straight-up disgrace… the last one was right before I re-entered the room when Twice approached me. I couldn’t do soft when I came in and I especially couldn’t after that so…”

“So, you were spirally and decided to take a dive off the deep end.” Dabi finishes, sighing when Hawks nods. “They’re so lucky Kurogiri found me when escaping with Shigs. I wonder how many timelines exist where I burn that damn Commission to the ground.” He mumbles, smirking at Hawks’ horrified chirp as the Dom returns to learning over the hero with his platforms. “Look me in the eye, birdie, and tell me they don’t deserve it. Tell me, how many of you are there?”

It only takes a few seconds for Hawks to break eye contact with a pout. “Why do you think I have an intern?”

Dabi blinks before his eyes turn cold and Hawks yelps at how quickly their corner heats up. “He’s 15.”

“He’s strong.” Hawks shrugs like that doesn’t make it worse.

“Can you cover up an arson?” Dabi decides, glancing around to make sure no one can hear them.

“Dabi, no.”

“Dabi, yes.”

“Your fire is bright fucking blue!” Hawks hisses.

“It wasn’t the last time they recorded it.” Dabi grins manically, making Hawks groan in a mixture of annoyance and arousal.

“I hate how much hotter you get like this. Literally and objectively.” Hawks grumbles. “Why do I keep talking hero shit with you.”

“Because you like crazy,” Dabi smirks, pulling Hawks close with hands just a little too warm to be comfortable. “Come on, pretty bird. Just a few heads.”

“No.” Hawks huffs, pouting as he uses the Dom’s chest harness like a lead to pull him closer. “How about taking it out on me? I did ignore your warnings after all. Don’t I deserve it?”

The smirk just quirks wider. “Wait until Kimi hears what you did, you’ll be begging me for something soft, but sure.” He sighs before his expression turns hungry again to make heat shoot straight to Hawks’ groin. “Are you going to take your punishment like a good boy, birdie, or be a little bitch again?”

Hawks smirks, still having a little fight in him. “What do you think, Hot Stuff.”

Dabi rolls his eyes at the ridiculous nickname and lets his hand curl around the back of Hawks’ neck to guide him out of the corner and towards a very relieved-looking Magne at the counter. “Room key, please. Someone made sure to earn a punishment.”

“Seriously?” Magne scoffs as she retrieves a key from the ‘Clean’ pegs and scribbles in a book. “Gave us all a heart attack just to be a brat?”

“It would seem so.” Dabi sighs, tightening his grip just slightly to warn Hawks to be quiet when he goes to defend himself. “Don’t even try denying it.”

Hawks pouts, considering his next move as Magne snorts.

“Well, whatever you have planned…" Magne starts, smirking when she sees the fuschia bracelet Hawks added tonight. "Add another swat for scaring the shit outta me, won't you dear?"

“The needy little thing he is, I doubt he’ll complain,” Dabi smirks back, snickering at how Hawks flushes red down to his chest. “Seriously, practically screamed you like pain inviting Kai to hurt you, but someone calls you out-”

“Shut up.” Hawks pouts before his eyes widen and he whips his head towards his unimpressed Dom and Magne grinning. “I mean-”

“Save it,” Dabi warns blankly, thanking Magne for the key before leading Hawks and his fluttering wings toward the door and thus the private rooms. “I’ll make you regret it, don’t worry.”

Hawks gulps even with his tiny club shorts doing nothing to hide his arousal as he thinks of Dabi smacking his ass red. He had just been curious before but apparently, this was definitely a thing for him as he remembers what else those hands are capable of.

"What if you don't?" He decides to poke, wings puffing at the warning look he gets even as he falls into his hero persona. "What if I'm still pushing your buttons or decide to give Mask another shot?"

Hawks has to wonder if whatever caused that scarring is what lets Dabi make that growling noise as the Dom pushes him into the Private room.

"I'm more than capable of making sure you can't sit right, birdbrain. Don't test me."

Hawks decides to test him.

"Kai could guaran-"

Hawks is cut off with a yelp as he's wrestled down to be draped over Dabi's lap with his ass on display for the Dom's hand to rest on in warning.

"Kai also had to be threatened to obey safewords. Only reason we were able to get you away from him so fast." Dabi hums, smirking at the blush spreading down the hero's back and neck. "Now…How many do you think you’ve earned…?"

“None?” Hawks tries, slightly nervous despite his excitement, and yelps when it earns him a sharp swat. It makes him jerk in the Dom’s lap, and he’s mortified to find himself turned on by the sting in his ass. “Dabi~!” He whines in embarrassment.

“Consider that one Magne’s for worrying her.” Dabi huffs as he rubs out the area. “Now no lying. I was going to let you decide since your misplaced guilt started this whole mess, but fine. If you want to keep mouthing off, fifteen sounds good, don’t you think?”

“But didn’t I have no reason to feel guilty?” Hawks tries, knowing Dabi will get closer to what he feels he deserves the more he questions him.

“For the Commission bullshit? Not even a little.” Dabi agrees, squeezing the hero’s ass lightly to watch him squirm. “For worrying us by going with the psycho? Fifteen is being nice. If he hadn’t already scared the shit out of you and my wrist wasn’t held together by staples and spite, twenty sounded more appropriate, but I’m cutting you some slack.”

Hawks pouts but otherwise droops in acceptance. “Should I move my wings?”

“I’d prefer not to get stabbed, yeah.” Dabi agrees, leaning back so they can fly over to the holding box on the nightstand and he can reach over to close it.

This was basically Hawks’ room at this point and they had all learned their lesson about letting the feathers free roam after an incident a few months ago that almost cost Compress his other arm. Hawks felt horrible, but the magician had simply released a marble of medical supplies and a box before ordering Hawks to put the feathers away in it and letting the apologizing hero fix up the gash. He then overstimulated the hero until he cried, but that wasn’t important.

What was important was that Dabi could see feathers sharpening in anticipation as he closes what was probably once a sword box and turning back around gave him the fun little view of Hawks’ baby wings trembling in a mixture of fear and arousal that he knew all too well from the first time.

“Ready, baby?” Dabi checks, already drawing his hand back, but ready to stop if Hawks said so.

“As I’ll ever bE-FUCK!”

Hawks jolts, instinctively trying to escape the hand with a whine before jerking when the hand gently rubs the area next. The whiplash of pain to soothing makes him whimper and squirm, but it also makes him hyper-aware of the area and makes him blush harder as a result.

“Dabi~!” He drags out the other’s name in a whine.

“Trust me, you don’t want me to warn you.” Dabi sighs as though reading the hero’s mind. “You’ll tense up and it’ll hurt worse.”

“No, I won-”

“Two.”

As though out to prove Dabi right, Hawks does, in fact, tense and howls with the next sting across his backside that sends heat down to his groin as well. The next soothing hand on his ass makes him flinch but it does do the job of making him relax.

“You get it now?” Dabi checks, kneading at the hero’s red ass to hear him whine.

“I won’t next time.” Hawks insists, for some reason deciding to double down.

His current angle doesn’t allow him to see Dabi’s raised eyebrow, but his baby feathers do pick up the Dom’s shrug.

“If you insist. Three.”

Again and again, Hawks tenses with each warning, and again and again, it hurts more and more. Three hard smacks leaving at number nine leave Hawks tense when a choked, almost sobbing sound finally leaves him.

“Yellow.” He sniffles, whining when both hands quickly leave him.

“What do you need?” Dabi immediately asks, deciding to save the ‘I told you so’ for later.

“Just a pause and no more warnings.” Hawks concedes, slumped in defeat when all Dabi says is okay. “Touch me? Your hands feel nice.”

“Alright.” Dabi agrees, heating his hands just slightly and watching how Hawks relaxes and twitters. “Better, pretty bird?”

“Mhmm.” Hawks hums, sighing as Dabi kneads the sore muscle. “Whenever you’re ready.” He eventually mumbles.

Dabi wastes no time delivering another hard smack that this time gets some intriguing mix of a yelp and a moan that makes Dabi’s staples tug as he grins. “Oh?”

“Shut u-Ah!” Another smack gets another moan and okay, yeah, Hawks will definitely be acting out more.

“Considering the menace you’re probably about to become, no, I don’t think I will,” Dabi smirks as he soothes the angry flesh once more. “You obviously had to have some amount of masochism, but who knew it’d be something as simple as spanking, hmm?”

Hawks mumbles something about being able to withstand torture before he yelps and jolts at another spank just in time for the next one to catch his leaking pussy with a wet Smack! And makes the hero’s head fall forward with a moan. “Dabi!”

Hawks can’t see it, but Dabi is grinning like he’s just been gifted a new toy. “You only have two left. Wanna add a few more?”

Hawks nods embarrassingly fast, moaning in a mix of pleasure and pain when the next two catch the cleft of his ass and thigh. He’s then rearranged so his legs are hanging off the bed and touching the floor enough for Dabi to have access to the hero’s glistening cunt.

“God, look at you.” Dabi chuckles breathily. “We’ve gotta get you in the main playroom sometimes. Show off your pretty little holes, so wet for me with just a little bit of pain.” He slides a finger through wet folds that shudder at the touch. “I wonder if I could make you cum just from smacking your pussy. I’ve done it for others before.” There’s a lewd slurping noise that has a blush once more racing down Hawks’ back as Dabi no doubt cleans his fingers. “Wonder if I could make you squirt?”

Hawks’ face burns in embarrassment, but he doesn’t have time to complain about it before Dabi tells him eight more and delivers a hard smack that sends pleasure shooting through the hero’s clit with each successive smack. Much to his humiliation, he can feel himself getting close, and he shakes with his effort to hold it off.

Harsh pinches to his clit as skilled fingers teasing him in between, however, guarantee his downfall, and soon Hawks is cumming with a broken chirp and tears in his eyes. It hurts. It hurts so good. The final smack knocks an almost sob out of him and Hawks’ remaining feathers flutter in sensitivity Dabi finally helps him fully onto the bed.

“You good, birdie?” Dabi asks gently as he cards the fingers of his clean hand through messy blonde hair. “You were so good for me, baby.”

Ah, aftercare then. That sounds nice, they have all weekend for more.

Hawks nods his head between sniffles when Dabi insists on a response.

“Such a good boy.”

Hawks smiles dopily at the praise.

Yeah, he was a good boy, wasn’t he? Fuck what the Commission said. He was good.

#dabihawks #hotwings #hotwingz #bnha dabi #bnha hawks #todoroki touya #takami keigo #bnha #dabi #hawks #mha smut #dom!dabi #sub!hawks #BD/SM AU #Commission Fic #commission work #taking commisions

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