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bloodykora · 8 months

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If you’re still doing Buggy headcanons: Sooo I always actually thought big noses on people are INCREDIBLY attractive. Give me men with noses that look just a bit too beaten up, women with noses that are big and wide, give me Roman noses and hawk noses and any unconventionally attractive nose and I am SWOONING.

… I feel the prompt almost writes itself at this point, what would Buggy think of someone who sees his funny looking nose not as a flaw but a mayor charm point and just constantly gives it kisses, traces it affectionately, boops it or comments (in all honesty and absolutely genuinely) how handsome and distinguished it makes him look, how it really suits him etc?

Wanna read about that man bluescreening because he hasn’t even treathened them yet to not make fun of his nose and they are already at the „flattering him to save themself“ stage? What do you MEAN you’re not saying that to safe yourself?!

This fucking anon/ask made me giggle so much, I literally showed it to my friends. I hope I did you and the prompt justice!

Enter the moment in Annie where Ms. Hannigan sees Warbucks’ diamond and goes “Oh my god, is that thing real?!” in shock but also delight. Me at that dude’s honker. (I want to be put on his nose like he has gangrene and I’m a leech who sucks on it to get the blood flow going) Also enter the Doja Cat quote of liking big noses.

- At first, dude is fucking weirded out. People have made comments and jokes about this stupid little red thing on his face and you… you think it’s attractive??? Huh.

- Definitely thinks you’re lying at first (and for the next few months), you’re literally the only person who is able to shut him up.

- Curtain drops, spot light is on, the blue haired clown walks in. Blabbering on about how his entrance should be more enthusiastic, but you got your eyes on your own prize, bright big red nostrils. If he wants an entrance, you’ll give him one by starting to clap loudly, getting so giddy that you start slightly hopping.

- “Oh my goodness, that is just.” Loss for words. “Are you making fun of me?” He approaches you, you hear him but his words don’t really seep into your brain at the moment. “It’s gorgeous, literally the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Your eyes are locked with his eyes and before he can even reply you reach up to brush your fingertip against his nose.

- Wants you dead first, no one has gotten close to touching it in years. And you, a low life nobody insults him like that. You get strung up immediately, your arm stretched so your fingers are out.

- “For that little ploy, I’ll take your fingers first and then your life.” Yes you’re scared but really could you regret it? This was the pirate’s life. “Oh, darn. Well, I’ll at least die happily. My eyes set on the most lovely nose I’ve seen in my years of life.”

- Thinks you’re still making fun of him until a few compliments later it clicks in his head that you mean it, with no hint of sarcasm or mockery. He lets you down, immediately ordering his crew to take care of the others you came with while he returns (runs) to his quarters. He’s a little intrigued by you, willing to die for a graze of his face. He keeps you as well, not that you’re upset by it.

- Crew thinks you’re hilarious, stopping a task to gaze longingly at the captain until either he realizes in which he shoos you back to work or he walks away. You boost his ego a ton though.

- From a distance he can ignore the thoughts he knows you’re thinking but up close, when they’re said in front of the crew, other pirates, hostages. He’s been known to cover your mouth with something so he doesn’t freeze up. When yall get together though, its game over.

- The first time you licked it, he almost saw some form of god. The angel's chorus was in his ears and he couldn’t help but say a little prayer in his head about you.

- Kissing it at least 3 times a day for good luck, rubbing up and down the bridge to soothe him to sleep, nipping at it when you feel playful. Not to mention he now has your voice in his head if he ever insults it going: “That’s not true! It is like one of the top 3 of the things I love about you and if you are mean to it again then I’m gonna cut it off and keep it all day!”

- Laying in his bed just watching him go about the day when you drop a “If my memory was wiped tomorrow I hope I’d get to keep at least the picture of your nose in my head.” before just turning over and going to rest. You hear him physically stop in his tracks and then a thud, he had let go of a boot.

- He doesn’t ever want to ask for praise about his nose on the days where he feels more insecure but you can tell by the way he rubs it on your collarbone and shoulder. You immediately pull out the good old “Have I told you how dashing attractive your nose is today? I seriously would just hop on and ri-” he doesn’t let you finish the sentence, cutting you off with a kiss knowing where it’s going.

- If anyone comments on his nose, you are the first to bite back. Threatening to cut out their tongue and string it up for future people to understand their place. Then squish Buggy while speaking highly of his stunning feature and how lucky they are to see it in the first place.

- You’re kinda crazy but hey, so is Buggy and he loves that you’re insane about him and his nose.

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy live action #some of yall are freaky and i love it

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randombuddys · 2 months

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Self-Aware Medkit, Subspace, Hyperlaser With Toxic Tryhard Player(Reader)

Note : Player use They/Them, also its my first time making a story or headcanon idk. My english sucks, enjoy

NO ROMANCE FOR NOW (sorry)

The player is Rages Quickly at the opposite team, constantly tells the Enemy Team that they’re trash and call the character stupid, etc etc. Basically throwing insults to everything in the game. Some teammates tried to calm Them down (it doesn’t help) the player basically tell them to fuck off which making some of the Player Teammates to leave the match.

Medkit

He would just do nothing. He will force himself against the Player control and stand still and letting Himself get attacked/jumped by enemies team.

Player kinda confused when Medkit didn’t move even though You already press W,A,S,D which make you more raging because you watch yourself get beaten up by enemies team.

He didn’t give a fuck if You will Lose or Not, he just want some respect

Subspace

Subspace can be annoyed because he had to Controled fighting the emenies and listening The Player insults at same time.

Probably gonna rant to Biograft about this

He gets annoyed by the insults at every little miss hit Player did and blame it to the character

He didn’t want any of this, He want to fight in the match without any of the harsh word directed to him for miss hit at the enemy (Player skill issue) But did you just insult Biograft? You CANNOT insult his Creation besides himself (lol)

He just want to tear up The Player apart or use Them as Test Subject for his new invention if he could

Hyperlaser

He not sure why The Player screaming about “Slingshart”

He does not like it when The player is Rages and screaming

‘it’s getting annoying‘

Of course some time where Player was calm, he tried to do every single move from Player keyboard, mouse like They want to, but one single miss shot/killed by enemies when already pressed F (ult), He will sigh and hear back the rage comment and insults. (You could imagine his face already like ‘i’m tired of this bullshit’ face inside that helmet)

He can’t wait till the Player stop playing and take a break from the game

He just want to go home and spent time with his cat Princess and going to drink with his drinking buddy, Katana.

Done!!!1!!

Its my first time making this thing headcanon or story i dunno and sorry if this too short or boring, maybe i will make other where is romance between phighters x reader

#phighting!#medkit phighting #phighting medkit #phighting subspace #subspace phighting #hyperlaser phighting #phighting hyperlaser #phighting x reader

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missingexaltation · 2 years

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Random Eddie headcanons (feat. Wayne) for a happier timeline where vol. 2 didn't happen:

(Some mentions of domestic abuse)

The first time Eddie didn't pass senior year it was because he skipped classes and homework to practise guitar, because who needs a GED when you're gonna be a rock star?

Second time he failed it was because he ended up in hospital after getting beaten up, missing vital exams. He didn't mind though, it was for a good cause.

Eddie isn't stupid, he's actually pretty clever. He is just incapable of paying attention if he's bored, or if he has zero respect for the person teaching him.

He and Mrs O'Donnell have an ongoing feud because he proved her wrong once in front of everyone, and he knows that she marks him down because of it. It's a running joke in that class now.

He and Wayne go fishing every few weeks. Eddie cannot fish for the life of him, but Wayne enjoys it. To entertain himself, Eddie takes a battered acoustic into that boat and plays the Beatles because 'the fish like it'. (It's for Wayne really).

Wayne also loves camping, but Eddie hates it. They go away for a couple of weeks and 'rough it' by sleeping in a couple of battered tents under the stars, and it always takes Eddie a full year to recover from the trauma and agree to go again.

When he was a kid, Eddie's dad used to beat him and his mom, and one day he went too far and killed her, landing himself in prison. Wayne had recently come back from service, immediately took the kid in and disowned his brother for what he'd done.

Eddie had always been a creative kid. If he couldn't be a rock star he'd 'settle' for being a tattoo artist. He draws as often as he plays guitar.

Wayne has a friend that co-owns a tattoo parlor that's willing to take him on, but only after he graduates.

After Vecna, when Eddie was recovering in hospital (hushh, he's FINE, damn it), Wayne would read to him while he slept. He and Dustin got to know each other a little, too.

Some Steddie influenced headcanons:

Wayne has no problems with Eddie dating guys, girls, whatever, as long as he doesn't 'hear anything'. He is very wary of Steve at first though, thinking his nephew is only going to get his heart broken.

Eddie gets on strangely well with Steve's dad, even if he does refer to him as 'Steven's friend'. They had an intense 'discussion' at a family dinner, even though they disagree completely at a fundamental and political levels. Steve's astounded, but lets it go.

Steve never calls D&D by its real name, only things like 'dingbats and dumbasses'. He's getting very creative, and Eddie finds it hilarious. Dustin hates it.

Steve's plays exactly one game with the party, and is banned for constantly messing with Eddie by either trying to do dumb things (ie that meme where the guys are trying to seduce a door), or by playing footsie under the table.

#eddie munson #eddie my beloved #wayne munson #steve harrington #steddie #random headcanons #i just think Eddie would be a great tattoo artist #i also think he'd argue with Steve's dad in Steve's behalf and accidentally get his 'approval' by being unapologetically himself #Wayne is dad of the year month and decade

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galactica7071 · 6 months

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let's diagnose the Irish guy from punch-out

disclaimer: I am but a lass with ADD, so while I do know a lot from both my own experiences and research, you should still take my ramblings with a few grains of salt. I encourage anyone reading to form their own headcanons, and would love to hear them!

So, the Punch-Out wiki (in its current state) implies that Aran Ryan has some sort of mental disorder, so I projected onto dissected him like a deep sea specimen, and may have found out what's going on in his very empty and screwed up head

🎉congrats! it's attention deficit hyperactivity disorder! (probably)🎉

ADHD has a bunch of characteristics that go with it, but I'll only be going over the ones that apply to Aran and are displayed in canon. Of course, I'll insert some speculation here and there to further support and reason through some of my points. For more reading, I suggest checking out organizations like Mayo Clinic and the National Institute of Mental Health, as well as any self-reports and blogs by people with ADHD (the latter tends to be more personal and far less clinical-sounding, but are just as helpful). Wikipedia is also a good place to go for anything, and you might even find yourself down a few rabbit holes!

Hyperactivity and restlessness

Aran exhibits this in PO Wii heavily. He has a high-stamina fighting style with lots of shuffling around, always bouncing around Little Mac. He can only be stunned through counter-punches and being faster than him (During round breaks, Doc Louis literally says "beat Aran Ryan to the punch"). It is extremely difficult to KO or TKO Aran without intercepting him due to this mechanic. During round breaks, regardless of how beaten and bruised he is, Aran will bounce his leg constantly in Contender and harass the audience in Title Defense.

Impulsivity and recklessness

This one's consistent between his two appearances, surprisingly. In Wii, Aran is portrayed as a dirty cheater who would "do anything to win", according to supplementary comics. He has the most rule infractions in the Punch-Out series, at 32 combined. He stuffs his gloves with horseshoes before his Contender fight and brings a homemade flail made from a broken boxing glove to his bout with Little Mac in Title Defense. During matches, he makes use of headbutts and elbows quite frequently. These are both illegal and very stupid moves, due to the potential of self-inflicted trauma. His flail in Title Defense could be a sign of creativity by thinking outside the box, which is often seen in people with ADHD. In supplementary material for Super Punch-Out!!, it's implied that a fight usually broke out whenever Aran was made fun of in school, showing that he was reckless during his childhood as well.

Emotional dysregulation

In Super Punch-Out!!, Aran Ryan is rather grumpy, and is one of two characters in the entire game to never smile in any of his sprites (the other being Nick Bruiser). Compared to his Wii portrayal, Aran is as clean as it gets in this game, even complimenting the player during the credits. Supplementary material attributes his lower mood to the teasing he endured during his childhood, and that he got into boxing to channel some of his pent-up anger. Depending on how you view it, him being so angry over his peers making fun of his name could be an overblown reaction. This hot-headedness is retained in PO Wii (which could be a sign of impulsivity), but he's essentially the inverse of how he was in Super. He's boisterous, reckless, dishonest, and smiles even while he's stunned. Many of Aran's reactions to being hit are him laughing, which might imply masochism on some level, but is nonetheless seen as an inappropriate response to being hit. He displays some antisocial traits, even, as seen when he throws aside the referee in Title Defense. This is likely caused by a low tolerance of authority, but is still an extreme reaction to the referee just trying to maintain order in the ring (good luck with that, ref...).

Difficulty starting tasks

This is a sign of executive dysfunction, which is closely linked to inattention in people with ADHD. It's exhibited in his Contender intro, where he spends the first three frames of the cutscene messing around. For this one, I'm going to compare Aran's behavior in his Contender intro to all the other boxers that spend their entire intro cutscene in a gym/dojo/training environment, spend the majority of their cutscene explicitly training, or are in several training environments. Here's a neat little chart, where the numbers represent how many slides they spent being "off-task":

can you tell that graphic design is my passion

I've counted any activity that builds strength and endurance (like eating, running, lifting, or practicing magic in Tiger's case), or requires a large amount of work put in to do (like chopping trees or playing hockey, for Bear Hugger). Some of you might be wondering why I didn't include certain characters, but that's because they're either in a combat setting, switch from training to non-training settings, or are doing unrelated things in what could be a training setting.

If Aran has 3 instances of being off-task, he ties with TD Kaiser, Don, and Macho in terms of how long they're off-task for. If "gearing up" is being counted as being on-task, he only ties with TD Kaiser and himself. Of course, context matters heavily. TD Kaiser, Don, and Macho aren't off-task purely for the sake of slacking off, but show developments of their story throughout Career Mode. TD Aran is off-task for storytelling as well, but it's not motivated by a grudge towards Mac like the other three and falls under the normal definition of "slacking off". Speaking of cutscenes,

Inattention and distractibility

Aran shows this several times in Title Defense. In his intro, he notices a rope in the trash can and gets the idea of making his flail, seemingly forgetting all about training for his match with Little Mac. During round intermissions, he's distracted by the audience throwing objects at him, and threatens them instead of spending the break resting or strategizing.

Anxiety

ADHD is highly comorbid with anxiety, due to executive dysfunction (mainly sensory processing), and the risk of overthinking. I admit that this one is a bit of a stretch, since general restlessness and anxiety are linked in many mood disorders, but it's shared between both of his appearances. Super's version of Aran being caught up in his own past can be a sign of social anxiety as well as falling victim to overthinking. In PO Wii, the leg bouncing can be a sign of anxiety for various reasons, whether it be physiological (ex. outside stimuli being unpleasant) or psychological (ex. overthinking the match). His stance in Exhibition's menu for his Contender match is also a little shaky, which is common in fight-or-flight reactions, though it could also be plain hyperactivity.

Pressured speech

In PO Wii. Aran usually talks very quickly, which can be caused by the classic ADHD experience of "having a lot to say, and feeling like there's no time to say it". It's very likely that it's just be a characteristic of his accent, though.

🍀🌠🌈this is a cool section break🌈🌠🍀

There's plenty more symptoms you could make arguments for, but these were some of his more prominent traits. ADHD shares symptoms with a lot of other disorders, though, so let's see some other possibilities...

Counter-Diagnosis #1: Bipolar II Disorder

Bipolar II, according to the National Institute of Mental Health, is characterized by a a pattern of depressive states and hypomanic states (notice the hypo- prefix). We can attribute Aran's demeanor in Super to a depressive state, and his demeanor in Wii to a hypomanic state. I've chosen bipolar II instead of I due to the specifications of a "manic state" not fitting his Wii portrayal as closely.

Hypomania (literally meaning "less than mania") shares many characteristics with full-blown mania, but is more toned-down. People who have experienced genuine hypomanic states usually describe it as helpful towards their productivity, while manic states are notoriously more harmful and often directly affect productivity. Symptoms of mania include restlessness, racing thoughts, pressured speech, overconfidence, increased agitation, impulsiveness, a disconnect from one's surroundings, extreme anxiousness, and many others. Already, we can observe many of these symptoms in Aran's Wii portrayal that are shared with the ADHD diagnosis. However, hypomania tends to lack the "reality disconnect", and we can see that Aran is very aware of his surroundings. Him being in the World Circuit in both Super and Wii can be interpreted as a sign of the hypomanic states being more helpful than detrimental (maybe less so in Super because of the existence of the Special Circuit, but I digress).

I think this take has a lot of ground, maybe more than the ADHD hypothesis. A lot of my earlier points in favor of him having ADHD can also apply to him being bipolar (specifically hyperactivity, recklessness, and especially emotional dysregulation) as well, which blurs the line in some places, but it's still a very strong argument.

Counter-Diagnosis #2: Oppositional Defiant Disorder

According to Mayo Clinic, ODD is "a frequent and ongoing pattern of anger, irritability, arguing and defiance towards parents and other authority figures". The characteristics of ODD can be observed in both SPO's and Wii's Aran.

I think this one's weaker, for a few reasons. First, ODD is considered clinically relevant only during childhood; from then, it can "evolve" into a number of other conditions, including but not limited to borderline personality disorder and the aforementioned bipolar disorder. Obviously, Aran isn't a child, but he could have had this disorder in the past and "grew out of it" from a clinical standpoint.

You could make an argument for the anger issues due to a few of his behaviors, as well as his voice lines in Wii having a sort of "growl" to them, but his irritability is infrequent and mild enough to where it can be attributed back to emotional dysregulation, and the "growl" could just be how the character or his voice actor naturally sounds (I haven't found any clips of Stephen Webster speaking out-of-character, but if anyone has any, I'd love to hear them).

Counter-Diagnosis #3: Antisocial Personality Disorder

The DSM-5 defines APD as consistent displays of deceitfulness, issues with authority, impulsivity, irritability, recklessness, and a diminished capacity for remorse after hurting someone. Again, a few of these symptoms are shared with ADHD, so there's a significant grey area here. Yet, I believe it's stronger than the ODD argument, since his cheating can be a sign of deceitfulness and his apparent antisocial traits in Wii. However, boxing as a combat sport doesn't leave much room for feeling remorse, since doing so can result in throwing or forfeiting a match. I'm not going to count the lack of remorse due to the nature of the sport, but you as a reader can interpret it how you like.

Counter-Diagnosis #4: Autism Spectrum Disorder

Because of how broad the autism spectrum is, you could easily go crazy in-depth with this. I'll do a miniature version of the ADHD symptom setup, which includes traits observed in canon. I won't be including every shared trait, but do keep in mind that ADHD is comorbid with a bunch of different spectrum disorders, and misdiagnoses, especially in women, are fairly common in the real world because of it. I know I'm going to fail to list certain symptoms due to just how many ASD traits there are, so if anyone reading has any more connections to make, be my guest! This "counter-diagnosis" section is for provoking further discussion, after all, and I'm happy to learn from you all.

Hyposensitivity

In PO Wii. To wind up for his right uppercut, Aran hits himself in the side of the head, and after round breaks in Contender, he hits himself repeatedly. Considering his gloves are confirmed to be loaded in his Contender fight, his relative indifference might be a sign of this. People with autism have reported tuning out various stimuli if they become overwhelmed by a bunch of them (sometimes related to meltdown or shutdown), and it's possible that that's what Aran is doing here. The bright lights of the venue combined with the crowd noise and the feeling of being sweaty could be overstimulating, and the supposed hyposensitivity towards being hit is caused by this "tuning out" to avoid a shutdown mid-bout.

Stimming (repetitive movements)

In PO Wii. The leg bounce in his Contender round break can be interpreted as a stim, as well as the wind-ups for his right uppercut (bopping himself in the head) and headbutt (choosing to wind up on the ropes). His bouncing around Mac could also be stimming.

Pathological demand avoidance

This phenomenon can also be comorbid with anxiety, which happens to be a risk factor for ADHD, so we're looping back around with this one. PDA is characterized by a person exhibiting an intense aversion to something that is asked of them, even if they wanted to do it beforehand. It can be associated with feelings of unfairness and like they don't have any control, so someone with PDA may "break the rules" to feel as though they have some control over what happens to them. Aran's high infraction count in Wii could be a sign of a more obsessive form of this. Avoiding the process of carrying out the demand can be conflated with executive dysfunction as well.

TL;DR get this man into a psychiatrist's office ASAP

#punch out!!#punch out wii #super punch out #aran ryan #punch out headcanons #your honor he's screwed up in the head /lh #neurodivergent #adhd #it's canon I'm sorry I don't make the rules

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canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 9 months

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PROPAGANDA

KALLEN KOUZUKI (CODE GEASS) (CW Mind Control Mention)

1.) Kallen is constantly subjected to objectification. Most of the times she pilots her mech (giant robot), she's in this gratuitous shot of where she's bent over and it shows her ass or her boobs, and none of the men are subjected to this position or shot when they pilot. When she finds out that Zero (the leader of the resistance who she loves, respects, and follows) and Lelouch (a Britannian (the people occupying her country) who's her classmate and who she doesn't particularly like) are the same person and also that he has one-time-use-per-person mind control powers, instead of being conflicted about both her feelings and Lelouch being Zero in the first place and, y'know, THE MIND CONTROL, the next time we see her after she learns this (granted, after a time skip of a few months) she's just still in love with him and has no reservations about following him or, y'know, HIS MIND CONTROL POWERS. If she had any reservations or trust issues or mixed feelings, she dealt with them off screen during the time skip between season 1 and season 2. Because she has to be part of the show's harem nonsense, you see, god forbid her screen time and feelings about Zero/Lelouch once she knows he's Zero be mainly about HER or EVER stray from positive and romantic. And her character's focus/screen time at this point shifts from being about Japan (her home country) to being so much (albeit not entirely) about Lelouch and her feelings for him, and she's still a great character and one of the best pilots on the show but COME ON. And then so much of the official and gacha game art has her with this blushing waifu face that isn't reflective of the core of her character at all, and it's just like. why. why would you do this to her when it just makes your story worse. Like, Kallen's treatment takes the show's ranking down from A to A- all by itself.

2.) Wants liberty for her nation is a talented mecha pilot yet the ungodly sexualisation doesn’t do her justice at all. Also gets swept under Main Character’a Harem

3.) Do you know how hard it is to find a non sexual image of her??

CHI-CHI (DRAGON BALL)

1.) okay so to start at the beginning, she was introduced as a young kid but they put her in a super revealing bikini styled outfit. pretty sure it was supposed to be armor too, so besides just being a disgusting design choice even in-universe it's impractical. but besides that she was pretty charming as a kid, she was cute and funny and pretty tough, and had a cool gimmick in her blade/ laser helmet. even when she reappeared in late Dragon Ball, she was a bit abrasive but was overall rational and kind. she was strong enough to make it into the World Martial Arts Tournament, one of only 16 to qualify.

but come Dragon Ball Z and on, she's reduced to just a shrill, nagging, aggressive wife and mother. all she gets to do is cook, worry, and berate her husband and sons. her physical strength is only used so she can comically hit Goku. sure its played for laughs, but he's shown to be afraid of her. I only recall her leaving her house once or twice in DBZ. just the worst mother character stereotype, with nothing left to make her likeable. she's portrayed as irrational but despite her aggressiveness, half the time her wants are completely reasonable. can't blame a woman for not wanting her husband to die every other day!! her writing us ass but I still love her and she deserves better!!!

2.) So in Dragon Ball she wasn't the BEST character to start out with. Toriyama hasn't ever been the best at writing women or not making stupid fucking sex jokes about them. So she had to deal with that. The outfit she wore as a kid was… NOT GREAT. Let's say that! Then in late Dragon Ball her entire character revolves around Goku and trying to marry him, which she gets by tricking Goku and getting beaten by Goku in a tournament in one hit. Not off to a great start. Then Z started and Toriyama just… gave her an ENTIRELY NEW new personality, and that new personality was just a stereotype of a tiger mom. Regardless of how correct she might've been about letting Gohan fight (and she WAS completely correct, he was 5-6 for a HUGE chunk of Z) the narrative frames her as a hysterical and unreasonable woman nagging at the menfolk and not letting them do things. So naturally people hate her without even considering why she's upset because the story itself frames her as in-the-wrong. The whole franchise also just forgets that she's a martial artist and never has her DO ANYTHING.

This is only scratching the surface, there's a LOT more because the franchise is like 40 years old and we'd be here all day.

3.) GODDDD okay so full disclosure i guess shonen is such an easy pick but like. out of every shonen wife she was and is THE most hated by the narrative and creator (maybe tied with sakura omfg). shes always made out to be a beast, got her fighting skills shafted after she got married, was always played like she was hysterical for worrying about her kid dying in battle, and not to mention the creator actively HATES her. like toriyama just straight up hates writing her. its bad. its really bad. shes just "bitch wife" but for no reason :(

#polls #round 1 #week 1 #new #cw mind control

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yoonyia · 1 month

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reading enders game again is messing with me again

STOP JUST WRITING ME ORSON SCOTT CARD

GET ME OUT OF YOUR BOOK

LEAVE ME ALONE

STOP SHOWING ME THE EXACT TRAITS THAT I HAD IN THE EXACT TIME FRAMES AS THE CHARACTER

STOP IT

PLEASE

ITS NOT FUNNY

I NEED YOU TO STOP DOING THIS

I SHOULD NOT BE READING THIS BOOK ABOUT CHILD SOILDERS BEING BEATEN UP AND BE LIKE "oh yea I did the exact same thing" NO THIS IS NOT WHAT SHOULD FUCKING HAPPEN

STOP SHOWING ME THE EXACT THOUGHT PATTERNS I FOLLOWED AS A PRETENTIOUS LITTLE BITCH

STOP SHOWING ME THE SAME COPING MECHANISMS AND FEARS AND IMPULSES AND SPIRALS I ALWAYS FELT

STOP IT

the sheer amount of times I had to put the book down because my brain was like "hey you do that too" is going to kill me.

DONT MAKE ME INTO A BOOK CHARACTER MY GOD LET ME BE A PERSON

the scene near the beginning where ender goes like "I was smiling because I found it funny they thought me of all people should represent all these launchies while I'm barely capable of holding myself is so funny, but others will think im smiling with them at their joke" is genuinely something I have constantly thought is pissing me off

and the entire enders thing of seeing peoples faces on things that he's afraid of???? excuse me sir did you just steal one of my most common hallucinations?????? and also the entire peter thing of thinking I'm a horrible violent person that finds joy in killing?????? because no matter what I do I always end up hurting people to the most they can be hurt and I know I meant it, and I hate and am horrified of that side of me that can kill people???? the feeling of wanting to kill someone then later being absolutely terrified of yourself and who you are and having to constantly remind your self that you're not that person and then failing because no you are that person, the world never proves you wrong. THIS GETS PERSONAL

the weird ways of insulting people people for their incompetence then immediately acknowledging their worth and skill????

I'm a dipshit I'm so sorry

the hatred of respect???? THE LEARNING HOW TO CRY QUIETLY BECAUSE IF YOU CRIED TOO LOUDLY YOU WOULD BRING ATTENTION TO YOURSELF????

THE LEARNING HOW TO SAY THINGS WITH NO SARCASAM AND MAKING IT SOUND GENUINE?

I could just go listing forever and it bothers me

I am such a boring horrible person

I can be diluted down to a book

I am so pretentious

I'm calling myself the main character of a book

it's so ridiculous and stupid

I want to cry

I wish I had a sister

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levmada · 2 years

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First Times Anthology, extra 1: welcome to the jungle

work summary » Intimate, vulnerable, gentle. Concepts Levi is a stranger to, until you.

ch.summary: You and Levi visit Marley, along with the rest of the Scouts. Unexpected trouble finds you both however—not in the form of enemies, but a strongman competition.

content/warnings: kinda slice-of-life, Levi is a very modest and kind man, suggestive near the end, visiting Marley, enough to make you giggle and kick your feet

wc: ~2.2k

a/n: hiii as i said on the last anthology chappy i wrote this a lonnng time ago but i am posting it now!! its not necessary to understand the story, jus filling in the blanks of the canon plot with some fun :)

・work masterpost・

Blending in with dignified men in top hats and tweed jackets, the women in short dungarees and cardigans, and rompers, the things are called... It wasn’t a difficult mission per se, not until you and Levi found yourselves in the middle of Liberio’s bustling main street.

“It looks a lot like Mayfest,” you whisper to him. He might as well be glued against your side, not holding but squeezing your hand. He hates crowds. “You know, the colors? Wow, look at all that food—”

“How do we get outta here?” he grumbles.

The air smells remarkably of fluffy candy, smoked pork, and sweat. The thick of Liberio is a palette of all shades of brown, but with the festival thrown in the middle of everything, the cacophony of reds and violets and blues make his eyes tired.

“Umm…”

He says your name like a curse. “This is… They have water in guns. Like it’s target practice.”

“It looks like a game,” you murmur.

“Let’s regroup with the others.”

Despite the delights of the carnival on behalf of the Tybur family, in a few days, this place will be a battlefield. You agree with him, but even if you didn’t, his evident anxiety would’ve convinced you regardless.

You remember in great clarity what Hange ordered: “Don’t make any new friends, of course, but get a lay of the land, as well as the people.”

To scout was the order in short, but just as well, this mission demands covertness. But such a setting offers quite the opposite.

You let Levi usher you down a smaller side street away from most of all the commotion. The street is lined with food stands and small games; it’s a little difficult to act like you’ve lived here all your lives when the sights have Wall Sina beaten in terms of flair.

With his hat tugged low over his forehead, you notice his attention pivots constantly: from the small beanbags children are throwing, the men in suspenders smoking, and the water guns in the hands of teenagers. He regards them all with deathly caution.

“You look a little anxious,” you try to encourage (what you mean is, “You look a word away from stabbing someone,”) and drape your arm around his waist.

Instantly, he makes efforts to loosen up, but he is an iron beam still.

“Let’s keep taking the sidestreets, love.”

He calms a little more, naturally this time, and clears his throat.

What’s that stupid expression Onyakopon always uses? A fish out of water?

“Yeah.”

But—ever attentive to the slightest details—his gaze finds a lonely hammer strewn on the ground. It’s comically large, comically out of place too, near a food stand selling what looks to be fat sausages in sleeves of bread. Once he pauses, it inevitably steals your glance too.

“Aye! Sir!” a man shouts. His voice sounds raw from heavy cigar smoke.

Levi goes stiff, and you do too. You don't look like you’ve been caught red-handed at a crime scene, but your acting could be better, you think.

The man, as plump as a piglet, is about three stalls down. He asks if Levi would mind retrieving the hammer for him, as it’s for the ‘high striker’. Question marks ring in your mind.

“If you can pick it up, that is,” he laughs. “Thank you kindly!”

Levi worries he’ll draw attention if he doesn’t. His sharp gaze shoots to your own under your straw hat for a second opinion, and you give him a tiny shrug.

There’s little question whether he can lift the hammer. It would stretch up to the bottom of his thighs if he bothered to take an exact measurement.

It has a fat, wooden grip when he lugs it up and over his shoulder, the head not looking like metal so much as something much less weapon-like: deep red rubber, or silicone maybe. It’s not very heavy at all.

The man’s scruffy jaw drops. It stays that way until he rushes from out behind the stall and Levi drops the handle in his outstretched hands.

Roger, you both learn he’s called, grunts under the weight of the thing. His balding forehead is already riddled with sweat, and a vein pops up for the effort it takes him to hold it.

“Incredible,” he gawks. “Whatever fool shipped these things made ‘em too heavy for mosta my customers. You sure are strong, sir!”

Levi idles on his feet awkwardly.

You elbow him a little. These people are friendly—it would be suspicious not to act friendly back.

He nods. “Uh-huh… Thanks.”

A few other people are watching your exchange now. Their attention fuels the frown on your face. As casually as possible, you link your elbow with Levi’s as a tell that you should leave. He’s tense again.

Roger tells you both his name and lets the hammer drop down, so he leans against it as if it were a cane.

“Say,” he says, and spits tobacco onto the paved street. “Would you mind helping me drum up some business by playing a round?” Then he laughs. “F’you need permission from your lady, I understand.”

You try miserably not to snort. You’re Levi’s lady. Cute.

Without even looking at you, Levi turns him down. The two of you have somewhere to be, but his answer only draws more attention. Mostly from people who witnessed him lift the hammer like it was a mere paperweight.

Do they think a solid ‘no’ means a challenge? Fuck. At any rate, you’re drawing too many eyes. Walking away now may worsen things.

You try to make your smile easy. “C’mon, darling. Don’t be modest.”

He glares daggers at you before he notices the attention too. Some are whispering to their friends, and there’s even a noble-looking young woman staring like he’s worth a million bucks.

Worst of all, Roger claims the game is free.

Levi thinks in a string of curses. Even if you two didn’t run the risk of blowing your cover, all this attention flutters his insides and makes his head high and thin. He hates crowds.

You encourage him to "give it a try". Is that an order?

Roger’s wrinkly grin is shit-eating; a salesman’s grin. Once he invites the two of you over and Levi gets an eyeful of what he’s up against, he studies it intently.

The high striker—the strongman game, or the strength tester, Roger explains—is a towering pike of wood painted bright red like the hammer, with numbers crawling up towards the very top. Up there sits a silver bell of some kind. At the bottom sits a flat, round hunk of metal—Must be where the hammer goes down.—and a knobbed dinger. Depending on the strength of the strike, it’ll fly up.

A crowd of tattered browns, suspenders, and sundresses is slowly, ever so slowly, wandering over to see what all the fuss is about. The soft-eyed look you show him says you're sorry, but your mouth says: “Do your best, hm?”

“This is embarrassing,” Levi grumbles. He can say so freely since Roger is leaned up against the high striker, beckoning even more people to come ‘round.

You can get a real word in too. “Don’t try. If you do, then…”

“Then we’ll never hear the end of it,” he finishes. Sometimes you both really do share the same mind.

Once more, the hammer is easy in his grip: sturdy, but perfectly movable. It reminds him of how ODM feels fastened around his waist.

It must only be around ten or twenty kilos then, which isn’t much considering what Levi’s used to.

Meanwhile, Roger is putting on a show of handing off an identical hammer to a man whose build makes Levi look adolescent in comparison. The way he looks reminds him of Mike.

The glaring white armband the man wears means he’s an Eldian, he notices. He can’t get over the nausea swimming in his stomach, hearing them all jeer when it turns out he can’t lift it. Both him and the hammer crumples down low to the road, and the commotion grows.

He doesn’t wait for quiet before hefting the round head over his shoulder and letting gravity do the rest. But right before it hits, he cuts the force off.

A shame—the dinger falls far short of halfway before clacketing back down. Victory cools his anxiety.

Disappointment draws over the crowd. Roger, for one, looks scandalized, and if Levi was looking at you he just knows you’d be trying (and failing) not to smirk. You’re a horrible liar.

He shrugs and looks to Roger’s round face for direction. “Sorry, I guess I’m not strong after all. Is that it?”

Roger stammers, and gestures wildly. “No! Surely you’re playing some sorta trick on me, sir!”

“I saw him!” shouts a very young child. He kicks around in the arms of a woman who must be his anxious mother. “S’like a feather! Picked it up like—like—”

Apparently, the brat makes a very convincing argument, for the consensus soon becomes that Levi is simply a very modest man who didn’t try very hard because he’s embarrassed. He ought to try again, "for real" this time.

He doesn’t know about modesty, but it’s true he did the bare minimum.

Now what? Get it up higher?—Shoot the dinger into the sky? For all he and you know, too much word of these hysterics has already drifted to the street over.

Meaningfully, you nod. You’re encouraging him.

“Try as hard as you can,” you advise with a smile. “You can do it, my dear.”

My dear. You never call him that unless you’re making fun of him. His face feels hot and red all over, but underneath a deeply annoyed expression, he’s thinking.

It’s true, none of these people know your names. Your genuine warning from earlier too—“Don’t try.”—is a great deal similar to what you just said. You actually want him to try as hard as he can, and then you can both make your escape during the chaos, so no one can track you down.

Break it, then.

Levi hefts the hammer over his shoulder once more, and nods to Roger. The man looks like his breadwinning cow just got shot. “Fine, I’ll try again. No promises, though.”

His brow lifts, and a wide grin breaks over his cheeks. “Great! As hard as you can, my man!”

Sorry, Levi thinks. He evens out his stance and tightens his grip on the coarse wood. When he slings it over his shoulder, the noise the round metal makes is like a hundred cymbals crashing together.

The dinger shoots up like a bottlerocket, faster than an eye can track, and something—must be the silver bell—shrieks, victorious. Then wood cracks, and the tone of the wailing bell dies.

Whoops of surprise fall from the mouths of the people. The dinger has vanished.

Levi pays it no mind. He tosses the hammer aside and scans the crowd for your retreating back. Already, he’s moving, bullying through the throes of people in your wake.

It’s not hard at all to catch sight of you. The suit jacket you chose, plus the pleated skirt, is as dark as the middle of the ocean. Say, when one is glaring straight into the depths in efforts to find the bottom... Levi would know.

The hubbub and chatter is lost on you both in a lost section of the city. Heels and all, he watches in admiration as you hop over a wooden barricade reading the words, WRONG WAY TO EVENT, and follows your heels.

You’re both safe. Now you stop, the most fantastic grin on your face, and snag his hand. Again, you run, and somehow he feels much lighter.

“Gods!” you hiss, excitement barely contained. “You’re so amazing. Love it when you read my mind.”

Levi has to brace his stupid hat on his head so it doesn’t fly off. He’s simply relieved to be away from the people, especially the attention, and the chance of someone discovering that devils have infiltrated Marley. He’s relieved you’re pleased with him, too.

When you’re well and truly out of the way, you both ease into a solid walk by the mouth of an alleyway.

“Yeah,” he huffs, and straightens out his lapels with his free hand. “I—thanks. Now let’s get out of here already.”

Without any warning, you reel him in for a bruising kiss. Levi is always amazing. If only it wasn’t for his suit jacket, you could’ve seen his muscles flex, right before he brought the hammer down and blew everyone’s fucking minds—including your own.

If he wasn’t amazing for reading you perfectly, he’s amazing for his show of modesty back there. You find it insanely attractive, sexy as hell in fact, and as soon as the two of you are alone again, be it bedroom or a linen closet on the damn airship—

He groans low when you lick into his mouth, and wrenches himself away.

“Let’s—” your lips smack, “—somewhere. Wanna suck you—”

“Fuck,” he huffs. His eyes shoot to the street. “Then c’mon already.”

Finally, you get yourselves out of there.

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

#levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi x reader #snk #attack on titan #levi attack on titan #levi heichou #levi ackerman #captain levi ackerman #captain levi x you #captain levi x reader #levi ackermann x reader #levi aot #levi ackerman x reader #aot season 4 #anthology

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mrfippstuff · 6 months

Text

This is just a vent post about some thoughts I have about the current Chainsaw Man arc.

I don't think it's a bad arc per say, I just think there are some obvious missteps which I think boil down to three points in particular.

Denji's Arc

To start things off, I don't actually think Denji's arc is bad, I actually like it, it builds off of how things ended with Denji at the end of Part 1. Having an arc about how Denji sees himself and his place in the world, of having him try and think about what exactly he wants out of his life, all while having other people try and further manipulate him while he has no real ability to take his life into his own hands I think is great, I think it's an interesting arc to watch. However, having one of the protagonists remain completely passive while they are beaten down with everyone telling them they are not allowed to take part in the story does not make it an engaging plot to go through, especially when the co-protagonist is (seemingly) actively engaged in their own plot off screen (we'll put a pin in that for now). Even less so when you have to go through it on a week by week basis, sometimes bi-weekly.

The Church's Presence

I really liked the set up for the Church, and how it affected certain character, and I really do like on paper how it all ended with Fami's chainsaw zombie plans, but at the same time I can't help but feel as though we sort of blitzed through its existence. In the same arc it was introduced we saw that is exploded in popularity, the effects it had on people and society, became this massive influence before it met the truth behind its purpose all in the same arc, and the only time we ever really got a good look at it was when Denji had his brief visit to it. I really feel like something that was made to be that big should have had been something more of a central focus between it being formed and Fami's ambitions were realized, just give the concept time to breathe. Which brings me to my final point

Asa's (Lack of an) Arc

When Asa joined the Church for the purpose of saving Chainsaw Man and became their poster girl she vanished from the manga for roughly three months, with only a couple of short scenes with her before we got to the recent chapter with Yoru's power boost and the 606 Sword, and during this time I had expected that her return would have meant some large change for her rather than the circumstances that she found herself in. I honestly expected that Asa should have had her own arc in the Church and how she interacted with the Church and its members and how it affected her. I've said it before, but a major part of Asa's character is wanting to be praised and loved but being to afraid of actually get close to people, so having her have a sudden following would been a conflict custom made for her, and we only ever saw a brief glimpse of it. She wants to save Chainsaw Man, but does this ever conflict with her desire for love and validation? We could have seen more of the workings of the Church, gotten more for characters like Haruka and Seigi and maybe even the Hybrids with actual introductions to the Spear and Whip Hybrids. Denji was only at the Church for five minutes and he was able to see all the red flags they had going on, from the propaganda about America firing stupid lazers at Japan to having their teenage members get married, but how does Asa, who has always tried to be a moral person, justify being a prolific member of this place when they are spouting things like that? How exactly does she interact with the Church? Asa could have had a Rise to Fame arc, occasionally spilt up by Denji constantly being cast low for contrast, before we she suffered her inevitable Fall From Grace, where all of her efforts get turned against her, which fits with how things always go against her.

To me it honestly feel like there was no real point in Asa joining the Church since I don't feel like it actually did anything for her character. She was off screen her entire time there, we barely saw her, she didn't go through any significant development, and I feel like any personal consequences she may suffer from being in the Church, such as wanting to Chainsaw Man to never have to fight devils only to end up having him fight the most powerful devil or being the reason people join the Church only to get zombified, won't really feel all that impactful because we never saw her in it. Asa could have had an A Plot that would build the Church up better with Denji's arc becoming a B Plot which I think would have made it more digestible, but instead it feels like she and Yoru could have just sat on their shared ass for the month this story took place in and nothing much would have changed for her. Even if we do get some extended flashback sequence, I feel like that should still have been something we saw in the present. In the end it feels like Asa was only in the Church just to get her from Point A in the story to Point B and nothing else behind it.

Like I said, I don't think the arc was bad, and despite my complaints I do find myself looking forward to what we get next, but at the same time I can't help but feel we ended up missing some rather obvious targets for the story.

#chainsaw man #denji #asa mitaka #criticism

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mysticalskunk · 4 months

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its no wonder rockoon became so bitter

doubling leaves

he still kinda sticks around "i miss that guy" probably waiting for doubling to come back

but he's alone all this time

people constantly beat him

they tell him to his face that without doubling he is kinda nothing. he reveals doubling is gone and they are just ok lol that makes it easier and if it was not for skeight i think they would've beaten him

he genuinely tries to help regarding the forbidden power thing but still doesn't get treated seriously and gets made fun of instead

he says he is better off without doubling and that he doesn't need him, that he doesn't miss him anymore but his actions say otherwise (breaking down crying in ep 13 and the soft oh no means he was missing him the whole time, I think one of the reasons why he stuck around in the first place was in hopes Doubling might return...he went from "i miss that guy" to "he's a stupid loser and i ditched him" and then to "there is nothing left here for me")

Everyone just kicking your butt, saying how easy it is to defeat him without that green slime guy backing him, making fun of him, while not having a single friend - yeah. it sucks the joy out of playing that game.

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 3 years

Note

How about a request for batsis getting hurt during a mission and batboys exaggerate 😈 thank u!

I DO LOVE MY BATSIS AND BATFAM FICS LETS GOOOOOO

Also I’m assuming you want a reaction! If you want otherwise do let me know! So let’s get started!

Batsis!Reader Gets Injured in a Mission and the Batboys are the Only Ones Home

No Specified AU

TW: Language

Genre: Fluff, Light Comedy

[DC Masterlist]

Word Count: 1.3K

You skid to a stop on your motorcycle, leaving tire tracks behind you in the batcave. You could clean that later when you weren’t bleeding out. You stumbled off of the vehicle, your hand still clutching on to the bloodied towel that kept your uniform from getting dirty and took your helmet off. You had a rather dirty run in with a few lowtime criminals who some how got their hands on alien tech, how that happened you’d have to ask Star Labs later, but either way despite your many encounters with villains who were much worse, the sudden blast from a laser shocked you just enough for them to get at least a cut in. Regardless you took care of them quickly and took the weapons back, which were now pathetically hanging off the side of your motorcycle.

You rolled your shoulders back and began you ascent up the stairs to get back into the manor, it would be best if you cleaned this up as soon as you could because god were you tired. You opened the door quietly.

“Please may no one be home,” you said to yourself repeatedly. Your brothers had a knack for getting rather loud when you came back with cuts and bruises, but you couldn’t blame them with all of their unresolved trauma and the fact that you, miraculously, happen to be the one Bat that hasn’t either died and came back or gotten beaten nearly to death, which you constantly held over them because damn in this business that’s more than just an achievement.

You successfully made it to the bathroom and pulled out the small medical kit and started working on the shallow wound, and right as you finished the shower curtain pulled back.

“Ahh!” You jumped back.

“Ahh!” Tim got into a defensive stance.

“What the hell are you doing in the shower?!"

"What the hell are you doing without a shirt?"

"I asked first!"

"You don't just sit in the shower to think?" You do, but you lock the door when you decide to do that. "Oh my god, did you get injured?!"

"No," you grabbed your shirt and hid the bandages that wrapped around your torso. You both stared at each other for a moment before Tim darted out of the bathroom. "Don't you fucking dare tell anyone, Drake!" You followed him out and ran into the worst possible person.

"Whoa, careful there, (Y/N), when did you get home?" Dick asks. Then he notices your bandages. "What happened? Who did you fight? Why didn't you call for backup? Where were you?"

"Oh my god, I'm fine, Dick," you walked past him and he caught up with you.

"Fine? Fine? You didn't even wrap that right, (Y/N)," Dick begins his lecture and you begin to tune him out right as you walked into your room and shut the door. Dick, knowing his boundaries, stood outside still lecturing you, and you walked out with a new shirt on and continued to ignore him while he shot you rapid fire questions. "At least answer my first questions, (Y/N)." You sighed, and without turning to him, said,

"Got grazed with a knife. Ran into some burglars that for some reason had alien tech. Didn't need it. Downtown," you answered his questions in succession while entering the kitchen, waving to Jason, who was getting a snack, and Tim, who was probably telling Jason about your predicament.

"Alien tech? And they didn't use it?" Tim asks.

"Exactly, they probably didn't know how to. But it doesn't matter, because I am very clearly fine," you reached past Jason into the refrigerator and pulled out a fruit cup.

"You're bleeding through your shirt," Jason points out. You look down and he was right. You let out another loud sigh and tear off a few paper towels from the sink and placed them under your shirt. "At least dress it right or you'll die from bleeding out rather than actually getting stabbed."

"Well, to be fair, if Tim didn't spontaneously pop out of the shower maybe I would have," you complained.

"You didn't lock the door?" Jason turns to him.

"There are ten bathrooms in this mansion, I didn't think anyone would go in!" Tim defends. "But that's besides the point! (Y/N), I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. If they had alien tech then that knife could have been laced with something."

"Are you implying that I could have alien eggs in me?"

"Why's everyone screaming?" The youngest Wayne entered the kitchen. "I can hear you all from my room."

"Tim thinks (Y/N) got eggs implanted in her," Dick says quickly.

"No, no I don't. Besides, that's not how alien fertilization works."

"You know how alien fertilization works?" You couldn't help the contorted face you made at the thought of how he knew.

"You always do this when we call you out, (Y/N), the point is you could very likely have some kind of alien virus or bacteria inside of you that could quite possibly kill you!"

"Tim, I'm pretty sure it was a normal knife," you walked over to the pantry and took out a bag of potato chips.

"But, if what Grayson just told me was right," Damien cuts in. "How stupid could you be? Letting something as simple as a knife get to you?" He mocks.

"If you weren't a kid I would've punted you by now," you pointed at him with a potato chip and ate it. "Do I have to remind you about last week?"

"No," he scoffs. "But that's not the point. You're trained well enough to avoid bullets and you let a knife get close to you? How out of it were you?"

"I will admit that the alien guns that also shot Bruce did distract me a little."

"And you let them go free?!" Jason finally grasped the gravity of the situation. "What if they come back to find you because they're pissed?"

"Relax, I have them in the batcave," you waved him off.

"You could've been killed," Jason argues.

"Oh stop being so dramatic, Todd, I'm obviously standing here right now, aren't I?"

"One shot from any of those and you could've either been disintegrated or catapulted into another dimension," Tim adds.

"Or worse, completely debilitated and decommissioned," Dick continues.

"You could be dying right now and you wouldn't know it because of how dense you are, (L/N)," Damien was next. You continued eating your chips while they started to talk over each other, then you finally spoke up.

"Okay, I get it, I'll be more careful from now on," you spoke in a steady voice. "Now, I'm gonna go clean this up because I was so rudely interrupted by someone, and when I come back, this discussion will be over," you held your hand up to silence Jason, who was about to retaliate. Then you walked over to the kitchen door and pulled it off of its hinges.

You stood there for a good few seconds, staring at the door in your hands, and the ruined door frame. Then you looked back at the other boys, who essentially all had their jaws on the ground.

"Could she do that before?" Jason asked Dick.

"No..." the other shook his head.

"Alfred's going to kill me..." you laid the door against the wall. You reached for the water bottle on the side of the table and opened it, intending to chug the whole thing down to calm your nerves, but none of the water came out, instead the whole thing was iced over. "Uh..."

The kitchen was silent. You ran back to the bathroom and took your shirt off then the bandages, seeing that the wound had turned blue and had completely frosted over. The other boys followed you, their heads sticking through the door.

"I was right?!" Tim's voice echoed throughout the manor and you slammed your head on the wall behind you.

#dc #batman #batfam #batfamily #batsis #batfam x reader #batfam x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfamily x reader #batfamily x batsis #batfamily x batsis!reader #requests #my writings

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yandere-sins · 3 years

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hiya! i see that requests are open :] i was wondering.. if you haven’t written this already, can you write what would shigaraki’s reaction would be to his darling willingly giving him affection? maybe it was completely out of the blue or he got injured and his darling was worried, etc!!

thank you!! 🥰🤍💕

Thanks for requesting!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

In no one plans does it ever say to get beaten up.

But no matter how disgusting the blood on his tongue tasted, no matter how little he could see through the bruised eye, there were days like these where plans didn’t work out the way anyone wanted them to. No one said anything as the League of Villains retreated to their hideout, some limping, some holding their heads in pain. A few of them sighed as they passed their leader. Others clicked their tongues in disapproval, moral lower than any of them ever felt before - that meant rock bottom.

Everything had been going so well for so long, Shigaraki foolishly had already forgotten the feeling of losing. He was strong, resistant, and in good company, and yet, maybe his concentration had been off, his perception slow, or maybe it simply was a bad day. Still, no matter how he tried to justify the bitterness of failing, in the end, he could only bite his chapped lip in frustration.

It took him longer to unlock all the locks and bolts on the door to his room on that day. Everything ached when he lifted a finger and using both hands almost felt like tearing himself apart. It definitely had been too long that he experienced a real beating like this, making him painfully aware of every muscle and every bone in his body again. But even more so, knowing that this was a setback in his plans was even more bothersome than all the pains combined.

Still, Shigaraki decided he’d deal with the consequences and further planning the next day. There was no nerve left in his brain to keep grinding the loss over and over again, analyzing it, and plan out improvements. Nothing good could come out of his frustration, he realized, as he almost disintegrated the costly, sturdy locks of the door. But catching himself at the last second, Shigaraki reminded himself of their trustworthy duty of keeping what was behind the entrance exactly where it was and that it would be a waste to lose them too.

Even though you must have heard the door open and fall into its lock again behind him, you weren’t immediately apparent in the dark room. Shigaraki grumbled a sullen, “... back,” looking around once more, trying to make you out as he set aside the few hands spared from the fight. But heaving a deep sigh, he realized you must have been hiding or locked yourself in the bathroom, shying away from his presence as always. If t wasn’t him dragging you out for his own sick pleasure of being with you, you were the last person he thought to be willing to come to him.

And for once, he didn’t have the strength to pull you out of whatever orifice you had crawled into.

Letting himself flop onto the couch he had brought in just for you, Shigaraki let out a long groan. The cold leather felt good on the bruises on his face, even though it told him you hadn’t used the couch in a while. He didn’t like that even though he tried to make it homely for you after all your complaints, you didn’t take advantage of the amenities he provided, but Shigaraki felt too exhausted to get upset.

Minutes passed in silence as he tried to get his mind off replaying the lost battle over and over. It was so unfair, so cruel that the brilliant plan failed to retrieve the items he wanted. Still, even if he calculated disturbances because of heroes, he didn’t think they’d sent an army of them to stand against him. It was just so freaking frustrating, his body immediately started to itch everywhere.

Shigaraki wouldn’t have assumed for you to make a move, but he could clearly hear how uncomfortable you were as you contemplated moving out of your hiding spot. The shuffling of your clothes was louder now that there were no games on, and neither of you were talking, so he noticed you trying to get up a few times before sinking to the ground again hesitantly. He only sighed in exhaustion, wondering what he could do to make his face stop itching.

You had long ceased to be a threat to him, even if he didn’t have a brilliant achievement to boost that day either. It wasn’t like you two had come to any kind of understanding, a middle ground even. Still, he at least seemed to have earned enough respect or fear from you so you wouldn’t try anything funny when he was asleep. Perhaps he was too trusting, but it wasn’t like you weren’t scared enough of him and his quirk.

“Shigaraki...?” you whispered, testing with a tiny voice if he was sleeping already. He could hear your fingers curl into the leather, causing it to let out air loudly, which made both of you flinch - him from the headache, you from fear. Grumbling quietly about the disturbance, Shigaraki propped himself up on his forearms, looking up at where he assumed your position from beneath his unkempt hair.

“What?!” The words came out much harsher than he intended, but truth be told, he wasn’t in his right mind ever since he returned, so there wasn’t even any mercy left for you. You made a step back, the floorboards creaking under the sudden pressure, and you let go of the couch, too afraid he might snap.

“A-Are you...” you stuttered, annoyingly so. Shigaraki just wanted the world to be quiet that night. To have some peace after all the trouble. “Are you okay?”

Sighing, he plopped down into the couch again, letting his arm hang from the cushions. Of course. The only time you were actually worried about him, he was actually not okay, and he told you as much. “Not really,” he confessed, and silence fell over you two again before he heard you round the couch to stand by his side. It would have been so easy to grab you and pull you to him now, and maybe on any other day he would have, but even that seemed too exhausting to him.

“Do you need some water? Or should I go ask someone for bandages?”

With your questions so innocent, it made him snort loudly. “So you can run away?” was his counter-question. If not for the darkness in the room, he would have seen you tense up, read your body language to determine if you had planned something or if you genuinely were just worried, but Shigaraki couldn’t be bothered with the necessary actions if either of that was true.

“I was just asking,” you whispered, discouraged as he thought he heard in your voice. Your presence shifted away as you went and hid again, and it actually gave his heart a slight, additional sting when you seemed to settle somewhere. Ultimately, the silence was what he had wanted, but now that he had refused your presence for the first time ever since he took you for himself, he realized that it helped neither of you.

“If you really want to help...” he mumbled, taking a deep breath as he thought his words over, realizing they were foolish. “Come and scratch my face.”

There was nothing in response to this, only more silence, and now he truly felt stupid for even bringing it up. He could scratch himself just fine and probably better than a second person could, but really... it would have been nice if you were the one doing it. It must have only been seconds, but it felt like whole minutes passed before he heard another stir, and the warmth of your presence returned to him, slowly sitting down next to the couch. He turned to his side, waiting expectantly for you to act, hoping it would be soon as the itch grew stronger.

“It’s not good to scratch it,” you mumbled, and Shigaraki couldn’t help but click his tongue at you lecturing him. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, just scratch it!”

Until the last moment, he honestly didn’t expect you’d do as he said, and it was almost amusing that when you did reach out, you still would resist his instructions, doing as you pleased. Instead, you seemed to want to smother him between your palms, laying them over the extensive areas of his face like cheeks and forehead, constantly alternating between them. It didn’t help, the itch still remained, but he would be a liar to say he didn’t actually like it.

Your touch was much gentler than what he expected you’d use when you finally touched him. Much less pressure and more tenderness than what he was used to from being touched. It was actually, truly, really nice.

“More,” he mumbled, and you gasped loudly as he reached out his hands to grab your wrists, tugging away his pinky as to not hurt you. No matter how nice it was to feel your touch, Shigaraki couldn’t help but grow needy even after all that happened that day. Perhaps because of what happened that day, he couldn’t help but want more and more of the comfort of your touch, ultimately pressing your hands so tightly against his skin, the bruises began to ache. But it didn’t matter. It all didn’t matter because it was your touch, and even if you tensed up, you didn’t pull away. You were so warm, and your so skin soft, so even if it hurt, it hurt good; just right. It made him feel alive even.

It was exactly what he needed after this long day.

“Do this more often,” he mumbled, dragging your hands from the top of his head down to his lips and start again. “Touch me more...”

You could have scratched him right then and there, plucked out his eyes for all he cared, and ripped off his skin, but your touch, combined with the warm, jittery pulse he felt in your wrists, gave him an unknown satisfaction, one he’d have liked to experience regularly.

“Don’t stop...”

His voice was shaky - needy and greedy at the same time. He rubbed his own face with your hands over and over, which felt almost as good as scratching but hurt like hell at the same time. Yet, he wished these feelings would never stop, so he could enjoy them infinitely. Screw plans and the future if only he could have your touch all over him until the end of time. So even if it didn’t resemble the way you touched him before, Shigaraki couldn’t get enough of your hands, only ever wanting more.

Was it truly too much to ask for? Shigaraki wondered as his grip loosened on you. You yelped as he accidentally lost control over his pinky while drifting off to sleep, giving you a second of stinging pain before you tore yourself from him trying to deal with coming into contact with his quirk. Only a satisfied smile was able to cross his lips before he was overtaken by exhaustion, hoping that this was reminder enough to not try anything funny while he slept. But honestly, as happy as he was now, he would have even enjoyed having your hands around his throat. It didn’t matter where, as long as you never stopped making him happy with your touch.

And god, was he happy he fucked up his plan that day.

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yourtamaki · 3 years

Text

all yours

kirishima x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: size kink, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), spitting, one ass smack, one bite from shark boy, creampie, slight breeding kink, slight dumbification

being a hero meant you were constantly in the public eye

there was no escaping it when the missions you were assigned were directly tied to your public approval

more people liking you meant bigger, flashier missions

and if they didn’t, well…

at least there was never a shortage of paperwork to be done

you’ve been doing well though! raising through the hero ranks faster than your agency anticipated

faster than you anticipated

it was great! it was everything you’d worked your whole life for

it…it was exhausting

not only did you have a sudden influx of missions to complete as your agency tried to capitalize on the exponential growth

you had also been instructed to have near daily interviews

smiling for the camera was fine until your cheeks started hurting from the strain

it was no wonder that by the third straight month of the endless pattern of gruelling missions followed by repetitive interviews you were physically and mentally drained

your boyfriend did his best to make sure you were taking care of yourself, cooking you lunches and texting you throughout the day to check up on you though there was only so much a fellow pro hero could do with his own busy schedule to attend to

kirishima knew exactly what you were going through and his heart broke whenever he could catch a glimpse of you before you passed out in bed

so when it all came to a head one day, he was more than ready to catch you

just open the door. you were stood frozen in front of the door of your apartment, keys in hand. that’s all you had to do. twist the knob, open the door and he’d be right there. your eiji. he would take one look at you and know exactly what to do to make you feel better. love and comfort were a few steps away and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

the day had beaten you down more than you thought possible. everytime you blinked you could see the flash of bulbs, hear the shouts of reporters or was that the screams from your rescue today? it was all starting to blend together. you were an open wound, pulsating and bleeding vulnerability. how could you let your boyfriend see you like this? weak and broken and barely holding it together. it wasn’t just embarrassing. it was shameful. eiji had been living this life longer then you had, had risen to heights you could only dream of and he did it with ease. meanwhile, a few months had left you a shell of yourself.

you didn’t know a hero could be this pathetic.

just as you were about to turn and take a walk to clear your head, the door swung open. eiji’s head was tilted to the side, his long crimson hair falling over his shoulder loose from its usual ponytail. you couldn’t bring yourself to look in his eyes, afraid of what you’d find. you let your gaze drift upwards, focusing on the small scar above his eye. what if he was disappointed? red riot deserved a partner as strong as him and you did not fit the bill. not anymore.

“i’m home.” you willed your voice to not shake as you crossed the threshold into your home.

“baby.”

“did you eat yet? i’ve been craving pizza from the place down the street we should put in an order.”

“babe.”

“or did you already cook? you’re right no point in spending money if we don’t have to.”

“y/n.” large hands held fast to your shoulders, spinning you around until you were face to face with eiji and being forced to stare into the eyes of the love of your life. “please. talk to me.”

a beat of silence as you bunched the front of his shirt in your fists, vision blurring from unspilled tears. then, “‘m so tired, eiji.”

he wrapped his arms around you and you told him everything. what your agency had demanded of you, the unending stress, the poisonous thoughts that ate away at you everyday. eiji held you together through it all, clinging so hard you could feel his body shake as you spoke.

“we’re gonna talk to your agency tomorrow. they’re pushing their best hero too hard and we’ll tell them to cut the publicity. the people already love you, you don’t have to put up with this.”

“you’ll come with me?” you sniffed. eiji pulled back enough to cup your cheeks, lifting your head up until your watery eyes met his.

“of course i will.” he said, wiping your tears with his thumb. “we’re in this together, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

you leaned into his touch, covering his hand with yours and marveling at the size difference. it never failed to fluster you how much bigger eiji was then you. your definition of safety started and ended with these hands, with the man they belonged to who had loyalty etched into his bones.

he held you like you were something worth protecting.

“i don’t deserve you.” you said, kissing his rough palm.

“don’t say that. don’t ever say that.” he leaned down until your foreheads pressed together and whispered, “do you know how much you mean to me?”

“i know.”

“let me remind you anyway.” with that he surged forward, closing the ever shortening distance between you as his mouth closed over yours.

every kiss with eiji was full of passion, even the chaste goodbyes you shared before heading to work but this one blew them away. he kissed you like he was trying to stitch together all your broken pieces. he kissed you as though he wouldn’t mind if this moment lasted an eternity. he kissed you and he kissed you and he kissed you.

and with everything you had left to give, you kissed him back.

when you broke apart, you had to bite back a moan at the sight before you. eiji looked sinful, red hair falling into his face, lips swollen and eyes locked on yours, dark and half lidded.

“we don’t… we don’t have to… you just got home you’re tired.” he said.

“eiji.” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck to whisper in his ear. “i need you.”

the world blurred as he lifted you up, legs locking around him on instinct as he carried you to the bedroom. a moment later you were dropped onto the soft mattress, feeling it dip as eiji settled over you. a familiar shyness tinged lust set in as he hovered above you. he was just so big. he was caging you in without even trying, he was that much larger than you. your breath hitched as he bent close to kiss your neck, looking anywhere but at him, something that didn’t escape his notice.

“where’d you go, pretty girl? eyes on me.” his voice left no room for disobedience and you complied, keeping your eyes on him as he asked. “there you are. tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“i like… being under you.”

eiji smirked, sharp teeth on full display. “yeah? what do you like about it? use your words for me, baby.”

you could tell how much he was enjoying making you squirm. he knew, of course, the effect he had on you. this was far from the first time your size difference came up in the bedroom but he loved making you say it nonetheless.

“i like that you’re bigger, eiji. you make me feel so safe.” your voice cracked at the honest.

he kissed the corner of your mouth. “always. i’ll die before i let you get hurt, understand me?”

he waits until you nod before snaking his hands under your shirt, removing it in one move. open mouth kisses trails down your neck to the valley between your tits. as much as you loved the foreplay he usually dished out, you were far too needy right now. you grabbed a fistful of his hair, guiding him lower down.

“baby, please.”

“so impatient.” he teased. he grabbed hold of your pants and panties, tugging them off before settling between your legs, one thrown over each of his broad shoulders.

“oh love you’re soaked. who got you this wet?” you let out a small whine of embarrassment, hoping he’d get the message and let you off the hook. a sharp sting on your inner thigh had you trying to close your legs around his head but his grip was too strong to do so. he bit you. eiji must’ve been as riled up as you were, he was always so mindful of his sharp teeth. “i asked you a question, didn’t i?”

“you! you did ‘s all for you eiji!”

“good girl.” he rewarded you by licking a broad stroke through your folds, ending with a flick on your clit that sent pleasure shooting through you. he pressed two fingers inside you with little struggle, scissoring you open to prep you for his cock. you desperately wanted to rock against his face but with one arm pinning your hips down, you could do nothing but take what he gave you.

you were close — so close and eiji, who knew your body better than you did, could feel it by the fluttering of your walls, the arch in your back. it was under his heavy gaze you came undone, thighs shaking as he rode you through your high. if you thought he looked sinful before, now he was downright pornographic, the evidence of your orgasm glistening on his face. he licked the remnants of your arousal of his fingers and grinned.

he pulled away long enough to remove his clothing while you took the time to unclasp your bra and admire the view that was your boyfriend stripping. he caught your blatant stare and winked as he pulled down his briefs, hard cock springing free.

“see something you like?” he said crawling back over you to kiss you, the taste of you still fresh on his tongue. you could feel his dick pressed against your thigh and you grinded against it, earning a delicious groan that spilled into your mouth. “fuck can you ride me baby please? wanna see you fuck yourself on my cock.”

when you nodded, he wrapped one arm beneath you and rolled, flipping you both over so you were straddling him. gripping his shoulders, you lined yourself up with him, slowly sinking down around his girth. eiji’s cock, like the rest of him, was stupid large and the stretch was always there when he entered you. but you relished the feeling all the more, a sense of pride bursting inside you when he managed to bottom out.

you closed your eyes for a moment until the uncomfortable burn dissipated and you were left feeling full, complete with him buried in you. when you opened up your eyes once more, eiji was looking up at you with the softest expression, one you’re familiar with but that made your face warm nonetheless. he looked at you with nothing but love and awe, the corner of his lips quirked in a small smile.

you held out your hands and eiji laced his fingers with yours, helping you balance as you began to bounce.

“there you go.” eiji grunted. “take what you need, i’m all yours.”

“all mine?” you clenched at the thought and he threw his head back at the feeling.

“all yours this cock belongs to you, pretty girl.”

the need to mark him as yours bubbled to the surface and you leaned in close, so close you were sharing air, panting into each other’s mouths.

“eiji.” you moaned, cut off when he bucked up suddenly. “f-fuck eiji i wanna spit in your mouth.”

he opened up without hesitation, tongue lolling out and waiting to receive you. you let the fluid trickle out, watching with fascination as it mixed with eiji’s. he swallowed and showed you his empty mouth.

“dirty girl, so fucking lewd you drive me crazy.” you were grinding your hips against his now, nearly crying from the friction against your clit.

“‘m gonna cum ‘m gonna cum.” you whined, powering through when your thighs began to shake from exhaustion. eiji placed his hands on your hips, guiding them back and forth.

“cum for me baby cum all over your cock.” his words were your undoing, tipping you over the edge as your orgasm washed over you. though you felt boneless after your high, you continued to rock against him.

“wanna feel you fill me up.” you said. “eiji please fuck me full of your cum.”

eiji knew everything about you but you knew him just as well, knew what words would stoke the fire in him and make him lose himself to the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him. and sure enough, he shifted to anchor his feet to the bed, wrapping his arms around you until your tits were pressed against him. he began to fuck up into you hard and fast, the wet smack so loud it made you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“i got you baby i’m gonna pump you so full of cum you’ll be leaking. that's what you want, huh? wanna walk around with my cum dripping down your leg?”

you could only moan in response, the quick pace turning your brain to mush and eiji seemed to sense it.

“did i fuck you dumb, pretty baby?” a smack landed in your ass and you yelped. “answer me.”

“i want your cum want it so bad, please eiji please.”

“that wasn’t hard. good girls get what they ask for.” he bucked up once, twice, three times, liquid heat spilling deep inside you. you shuddered at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of your, a mixture of both your cum dripping onto eiji.

for a moment you were both quiet, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “‘m gonna get us cleaned up, love.”

“in a minute i just wanna stay like this for a little bit. is that ok?”

“anything you want.” together you lay, eiji tracing shapes on your bare back, an eternal gratefulness for the man beneath you washing away all the negativity of the months prior. you knew as long as eiji was on your side, you would always be okay.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima imagine #bnha x reader #bnha smut #kirishima eijiro imagine #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro smut #mha smut #mha imagine #mha x reader #bnha imagine

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thehmn · 4 years

Text

I’m sorry for talking about dogs so much but I need to rant for a moment.

If you hold a small animal, any animal, and it starts to wiggle or push away from you put it down. Don’t just laugh. Don’t hold it tighter. Unless you have a good reason for holding it put it down.

I constantly have to tell children to put my chihuahua down and leave her alone when she wiggles. That’s okay. Children are stupid and don’t know anything about anything yet. We’ve all been there.

Adults have no excuse.

When you see a chihuahua like this you should not be thinking “demon dog” you should be looking at the owner and thinking “What did you do to this poor animal?” or alternatively if they got it from another person “What did that person do to this poor animals?” If a dog gets like this, any dog, the owner fucked up, not the dog. That is learned behavior. Those are extremely scared, uncomfortable dogs who have been mistreated. And by that I don’t mean beaten.

When people say “Treat a small dog like a big dog” that doesn’t just mean train and socialize it. It also means “Don’t do anything that would make a bigger dog bite your face off”.

Respect it’s signals. Let it know that it’s okay for people to hold and pet it by leaving it alone when it says “No more”. This can include wiggling, walking away from you, not responding when you touch it and looking at you in a way that shows the white in it’s eyes. It’s not hard to decode.

Only if you ignore signals like this will it start to show teeth and growl, and you have no right to get upset if it bites you after this. That’s on you. And eventually biting will be it’s first response because it has learned that the more subtle signals doesn’t work.

If it’s not your dog let it instigate contact with you. If it’s your dog respect it and you’ll find that it becomes much more tolerate of you and others handling it. Yes, if you try to clip its nails or something else it doesn’t want to do it might scream bloody murder, but it won’t bite because it knows this only happens sometimes and it’ll be over soon.

People have gotten so used to this idea that dogs have to be robots who should put up with everything we do to them and that’s really fucked up. They’re allowed to tell you no if there’s no reason for you to do it. It shouldn’t be forced to be held by you just because you want to hold it.

Hold it against its will to get vaccinated/groomed/other important things? Yes. Hold it against its will because you want to pet it? Big no. And of course teaching them tricks and commands are a must, but that’s not forcing them to do things. That’s teaching them that if they do the thing something good happens.

Of course animals are different. If people (me included) offer my shih tzu some food he will often show his teeth and it’s totally understandable that people get scared, but he’s not doing it to show aggression, he’s doing it because he doesn’t like to get food on his lips. How are people supposed to know that? I sure as hell didn’t the first time he did it, and it’s the right reaction for people to pull their hand back. Then I, the owner, can tell them not to worry, he’s just weird about food on his face.

And some dogs are more standoffish and take longer to warm up to people, and some trust you right away.

My point being, just assume every dog in the world show the same signals until the owner tells you otherwise.

I’ve said before that my chihuahua doesn’t like small children and avoids them at all costs because they do all the things I just told you not to do. She loves older children and adults though, and loves to be held even by complete strangers and is quick to roll up and snooze in the lap of any guest even if she has never met them before (trust me, no matter who you are, if you came to my home she would be sitting in your lap right now wagging her little tail wanting nothing but love from you), which is also why I panic when adults doesn’t respect her signals and try to force her to stay with them because Aw she’s so tiny and cute.

I don’t want to lose the sweet friendly dog that she is and I’m sure a lot of other small dog owners feel the same, which is why I made this post. Please just respect dogs no matter size, okay?

#dogs #chihuahua #dog training #people training

30K notes · View notes

lilith-of-rivia · 3 years

Text

Monster House

Trigger Warnings: Claustrophobia, mentions of self-hatred, self-degrading voice, panic/anxiety attack, mentions of blood and gore.

Summary: after Geralt lashes out at you and leaves you alone in a house, you have an anxiety attack/panic attack.

Word Count: 1,676

Paring: DAD!GeraltXFemaleMinorDAUGHTERReader

Request: Hello! Could you write one where the reader is Geralt's child surprise. Reader is in her teens and gets in trouble. Geralt is pissed and grounds her. Reader cannot leave the house. The reader has developing claustrophobia so no fresh air for a while eventually gets to her. Reader starts to have an anxiety attack but doesn't dare go outside for a quick breath of fresh air. Geralt comes home and tries to calm her down and stuff. Thank youuu!!! 🥺🥺🥺

@theichabbieclub

Thank you for the request, my dear, so sorry for the wait. Hope you like it?

“Geralt! You’re being unreasonable. I didn’t do anything wrong!!” You yelled. Your hair was a mess around your face. Dirt smeared all over with some blood that thankfully didn’t belong to you.

“Did nothing wrong??” Geralt’s face to you, now eye level. He had to bend down to be eye to eye with you. His eyes searched yours. You could see the anger, fear, and concern on his face. Something you had only ever seen, no one else got to see that.

He sighed heavily, his hands rubbing down his tired face. He was attempting to calm himself down, knowing he could sometimes be a bit too harsh with you.

“You deliberately left the house after me. You could’ve gotten killed.”

“-But I didn’t.” He sighed, grabbing your chin in his hand making you look at him.

You did leave the safety of the house, even when he said no. You wanted to come with him. It was only a pack of wolves. Nothing he couldn’t handle and you wanted to help, more than anything. You hated not being able to help him with anything, you could never do anything unless he was by your side. He or Jaskier. It made you feel like a burden.

“You’re right you didn’t. But you could’ve. You’re not to leave this house for three days. You stay in here, read the books Yen gave you. Unless I am by your side you do not step foot past that threshold. Do you understand me?” His voice was deep, stern, mean. You hated it when you got grounded. You sighed deeply, nodding in agreement.

“Good. I’m very disappointed in you Y/N.” He stood again, his back to you. Before you could say anything else he was out the door. You had half a mind to follow him but chose to listen to him. His lingering disappointment still thick in the hot air of the cramped house.

You walked to the corner of the small room, sitting down in the pile of blankets. You grabbed one of the herbal books Yennerfir gave to you and began reading. No matter how many times you reread the same paragraph about mugwort you couldn’t absorb the material. You were getting hotter and hotter, the hot summer sun now at its full peak at noon making the small cabin you were in getting hotter. You grabbed your water canteen and slugged it down. To your disappointment, Geralt had taken his own with him.

“This isn’t a house, it’s a shack. With walls enclosing it around me.” You huffed to yourself. Gathering your hair in your hands you tied it back, hoping it would help. But it did nothing. The room began to feel smaller, tighter. The air getting thicker.

Your mind wandered over Geralt’s words.

“He’s right. I’m such a disappointment. He should’ve left me years ago.” Your hot tears began to stream down your red cheeks. You put your hands on your face, holding it tightly, squeezing it as your eyes shut. You tried to not let these thoughts penetrate your head, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were a burden to Geralt. He constantly had to do things for you. You never did anything for yourself even if you wanted to. No matter how hard you tried you always felt like you were only a burden on him.

Your breathing became ragged and harsh as you cowered into the corner. Your body trembled, the walls around you closing in around you as you watched the floor move up and down like a monster’s mouth.

“If you ever need me; scream my name, I’ll hear you.”

His voice echoed through your head as you moved to the window. You pushed the small glass panel open and sat below it feeling the very soft breeze that came through. Your throat felt like it was closing. Your body shaking more as you cried harder, the thoughts of Geralt not coming back for you.

“GERALT PLEASE COME BACK!!!” Your screams echoed off the walls of the house. Your head in your hands as you cried harder and harder, your throat beginning to hurt.

“Please...please...please...please come back Geralt.” Your head began to get heavy as you laid on the hard floor. The door of the house flew open, but you didn’t have the energy to open your eyes, but you knew it was him. His smell was all too familiar to you. His arms quickly grabbed your limp body pulling you into his chest, his hand quickly grabbed your chin making your face turn to him, your eyes still not opening. You couldn’t.

“Jesus Y/N, your burning up. Did you eat something bad??” His voice was full of panic, it made your heart hurt. All I ever do is cause you pain. Your thoughts were filling your small head, making it harder for you to stop crying.

“The house is eating me.” You crooked out. He quickly lifted you, carrying you quickly out of the house. The fresh air instantly made you take in a breath, your tears subsiding.

You could hear the splash of water as Geralt walked into the river near the cabin. He kneeled into the water, using his hand to cup cold water pouring it over your face.

“Open your mouth.” You did as he asked and drank the cold water from his hand. Your senses slowly started to return, your eyes opened and the bright sun made them burn. You slowly moved them around the running water. You could feel Gerlt’s fingers stroking your hair behind your ears as he completely sat in the water, no regard for his clothes. You locked eyes and gave him a weak smile.

“What happened?” His voice was softer than before, it was deep, comforting. Made you feel safe, even in the unsafe world you lived in.

“I feel like nothing but a burden...you never trust me to do anything on my own. It's like I’m a leach to you…” you couldn’t look at him, closing your eyes feeling the cold water rush into your back.

“You're not a leach, you're my kid. It's my job to protect you.” your eyes snapped back to his own. For years he never referred to you as his kid, or his daughter. At least not out loud. He treated you like his daughter. He was all you ever had when it came to parents, other than Yennefer.

His hand gently combed your hair from your face, sitting you up fully, your legs submerged in the cool rushing water.

“If something happened to you, if you died I wouldn’t be able to live in this world.” The smile that overtook your face made him roll his eyes playfully.

“You love me.” You cooed in a sing-song voice as you pointed your small finger at his face. He grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Of course I do, kid. I didn't have much meaning in life before I found you.” Your smile only grew as the big bad witcher gushed about his kid.

“Could you actually say it?” You asked, lifting your head slightly as he washed the dirt from his arms, you two slowly separating, leaving a foot between your bodies as you sat in the water.

“Say what?”

“That you love me. You've only ever said it once. But I don't think you meant to then.” Geralt eyebrows furrowed together.

“When?”

“A long time ago, you had gotten badly beaten by a group of banshees. Yen found you and brought you back with her. She had no one else to help, so I had to. I was barely eleven yet. It was scary, you were all… bloody, and cold. Your eyes were stuck open- corps like.” Your eyes were looking all over his body, and the earth around you. The story was never easy for you to remember, but you never forgot it.

“I honestly hate that I remember it so much, I remember watching Yen cry as she tried her best to stitch you back up. She just kept begging and pleading with ever god she thought was listening to her. It was horrible.” Geral's hand gently held yours, his finger softly stroking the back of your hand.

“I didn't forget it though. You woke up the next day, and I've never cried harder.” You said with a soft laugh.

“I hugged you, too tight and it hurt you. And I said I was sorry and I was just happy you didn't die. And you asked me why...I didn't know why you asked that stupid question. So I just said because I loved you. And you said it back. But you haven't sense. And honestly, if I'm your kid, you should say it more often. Because only telling me after you die really fucking sucks.” This time he laughed.

“I love you, Y/N. More than any father could ever love his child.” his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as you held onto him, a smile ear to ear.

“I love you too, fuck face.” he groaned into your hair as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“I'm like this because of you.” You mumbled and he nodded his head, humming softly.

#geralt x oc #geralt imagine #geralt x reader #getalt of rivia #geralt fanfic #witcher geralt #witcher jaskier #witcher yennefer #dad geralt #geralt dad #geralt x yn #geralt x you #witcher netflix #netflix #witcher oc #witcher 3

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americasmarauders · 3 years

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Hey Luiza!! Ok so I don’t know if this is too big of an ask BUT would you maybe consider, if you’re comfortable with it, writing up (from prompt list 1) #24 that leads into #11 with Tim Drake?

author's note: has this been sitting in my ask box for, what, 4 months? yes it has. I'm deeply sorry for that, love, but suddenly life got in that way, and I found myself unmotivated and uninspired. But now, hopefully, I'll have a couple of weeks of peace and I managed to complete this request. I hope you don't mind, but I put my own spin on the prompts, slightly altering them. Hopefuly it's up to par with what you expected. I re-worked an old draft of mine, one that was supposed to be a royal!au based on Love Story by Taylor Swift, to fit the prompts. It's still a royal!au and it still has some colors of Taylor Swift, nevertheless I hope you like it.

prompts: #24: banter in which one of them’s like… “i love you” and the other person’s like “ok” and the first one’s like “say it back” and the other one’s just like “no 😝” and the first one gets frustrated because “why wouldn’t you say it back we always say i love you before we leave”

#11: when one of them is hurt by the antagonist… and their lover goes… absolutely ballistic and does everything in their power to get to the person they love, to the point in which the antagonist and it’s crew have to physically restrain them… and it still doesn’t stop them… they just keep kicking… doesn’t matter what happens to them… doesn’t matter if they get beaten in the process… as long as their lover is safe… words: 3,982

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She leaned to the railing of the balcony, summer air gently brushing on her skirt and her skin, a small smile playing at her lips. Her hands fidgeted nervously as she waited for her love to encounter her in that abandoned corner of her family’s palace.

A sigh escaped her lips as she attentively listened to the noises around her. The rumble of the party could still be heard, even if faintly. There were barely any rounds in that part of the castle, especially with the big ball her father had decided to throw. She had millimetrically chosen that balcony: something far enough from the ballroom, so they wouldn’t be bothered, but not too far in case they got caught. She could see the moon clearly from where she stood, its light illuminating the fountain down below beautifully. She thought about how his eyes would be beautiful under the Moon’s light and her heart fluttered.

She had been warned about the Waynes, mostly by her adoptive Father, who wasn’t exactly a fan of Bruce Wayne, King of Gotham. Their relationship was civil, but it wasn’t safe from animosities, many that had happened in their past, when both were still young princes trying to get their bearings of their upcoming roles. A war was brewing back then, a war that had not ended as of yet, and she remembered her Father telling her how palpable the tension in the air was, how exasperated his mentor was that he was as prepared to be a king both militarily and educationally. She only imagined King Bruce’s mentor felt the same.

Unfortunately, the antipathy extended to the plethora of adopted children King Bruce had. Her father always spoke of them with a corner of disdain, his lips twisting into a frown. He had to have contact with them, the trades of their kingdom depended on Gotham a whole lot, but he had shielded his children from the Wayne kids. When she was smaller, when she had just arrived in the castle fresh from the streets, she had believed every word from her Father. She had stayed away from them, actively avoiding them when she saw a pair of raven hair and bright eyes looking in her direction. When she grew up, she stopped thinking about dodging their attention so attentively, but still stayed out of their way, not wanting to get on her Father’s bad side.

The way she saw it, she didn’t exactly mess with the Waynes, in fact it was the other way around. Tim had stumbled onto her life, and he had been quite persistent, in spite of her trying to be cold towards him. He knew she really couldn’t resist him somehow, he always knew more than he ever let on, he saw the way she smiled when he’d pass through her on a stupid ball his Father threw for whatever reason. She pretended to not see him, to not feel his smile etched into her brain forever.

Tim managed to crawl his way to her heart and now she couldn’t imagine a life without his clever remarks and easy going smile. She remembered vividly when they danced for the first time. He had asked her, the first time he’d even whispered anything to her. It was like every eye was on her while she was hesitating to grab his hand. Her eyes flickered to his face, his smile faltered for a second. She remembered feeling her heart tightening at his deflation, and grabbed his hand immediately after.

His grip tightened on her hand, his smile firm and reassuring. She felt herself tense when they finally arrived on the dance floor, his other hand respectfully laying on her back. He whispered to her gently, begging to not let her eyes drift away from his. She listened to him, her heart beating fast, a mix of anxiety and something else, something better and new. He made snide comments about the people present at the Wayne ball, making laughter bubble underneath her skin. He had vanquished her nerves with a smile and bright eyes.

Hands slipped on her middle, hugging from behind. Tim’s scent flooded her, a smile blooming on her face. She moved to turn in his arms to face him, his hands allowing her movement. He was classically handsome, his blue eyes accentuated by the moonlight, sending butterflies to her entire being. His smile floored her, her hands finding his face, caressing lightly his cheeks.

“No one saw you?” she whispered, her forehead leaning on his, her breath mingling with his.

“No,” he shook his head, his forehead grazing on hers. His hands cradled her face, his eyes closed. “You look breathtaking tonight,” his voice was steady and precise.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she smirked, her hands falling to his shoulders delicately. Her eyes were filled with an inexplicable love, something that consumed her wholly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” his lips ghosted over hers, tempting her to close the tiny gap between them. She chased the smile growing on her lips, closing the space between them and interlocking their lips. Tim had promptly responded to her kiss with a gentleness only he was capable of, kindness that made something inside her explode.

She rested her forehead on his, looking deep into his moonlit eyes with an adoration that couldn’t be contained by the vessel of her body anymore. Her heart felt calm again, next to him it was like every cell of her body was finally settling into some level of tranquility. The sinking hole she felt when he was miles away back in his kingdom was rapidly filled when he smiled at her and rested his hand on her cheek. The world was filled with screaming colors once again.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” he confessed, his voice barely over a whisper, his hands cradling her face carefully.

“I know, Tim,” the whisper fled from her lips, “I feel the same, but we have to, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” a sigh escaped his lips, defeated and resigned. He took a step back, putting space between them. She immediately felt his absence, a coldness settling inside her. His elbows rested brutally on the railing of the balcony, his knuckles as tense as his jaw. She felt it in her bones that something was deeply wrong with him, something inside him had shifted. “We could run, you know?” he suggested, his eyes finding hers once again, full of hope. “I have a safe house far away, Kon helps me keep it. We could settle down there, live a calm life.”

“Where’s this coming from, Timmy?” she whispered, her eyes closed imagining the life Tim had laid out for her.

“I’m so tired, love,” his head shook from side to side, “I'm so tired of fighting, of briefing meetings and seeing innocents die. I don’t know if I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know,” her hands rested on top of his, “but, Tim, we can’t. We can’t leave everyone behind, this is bigger than us.”

“Why not?” his voice grew with a strong tone of anger. “I just want one thing, Y/N, one thing. I want to be able to love you, without all this weight on my back that I’ve been carrying ever since my parents handed me to Bruce when I was 12. I’m exhausted all the time, I miss you like I’m missing my own heart all the time. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Tim...” she started, her voice soft and understanding, but he quickly interrupted her.

“Marry me,” he turned to her abruptly, grabbing her hands tightly. Her mouth was agape, her heart beating out of her chest. “We can get married quietly at dawn, and then we’ll live at my safe house, we’ll make it a home.”

Her eyes flew crazily over his face, looking for any hint that he was playing a prank on her, pulling purposefully on the strings of her heart. His face didn’t betray any signs of any lies, her mouth got dry and her hands started to sweat. Her brain ran a thousand different scenarios, trying to grasp onto some hope that maybe what Tim had suggested to her might work. She found none.

She shook her head, her throat tightening up. “We can’t,” she whispered, her hands slipping from his. “It wouldn’t work, Timmy. We would be hunted down, we wouldn’t have peace at all. We’d have to live a life constantly running from our past.”

“So we’d do it,” he went to grab her hands again, but she didn’t let him, his hands grasping into summer air. “I can find other houses across the continent, I can make sure we are not found.”

Tears escaped her eyes, betraying her feelings to Tim. She shook her head, her arms crossing over her stomach. “No,” she whispered, “I can’t.”

“Hey,” his fingers lifted her chin, making her look at him, “penny for your thoughts?”

She couldn’t handle being touched by Tim, his touch poisoned her thoughts. If he touched her, she’d make a decision she’d regret, and she wouldn’t have that. “I can’t do it, Tim, I can’t leave everything behind.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” he started, “but we’ll make it.”

“You’re not understanding,” her voice showed the bubbling anger and fear inside her, “I can’t abandon everything like you’re suggesting, Tim. I can’t leave all those people who depend on me, all those families that expect me to show up and give them some comfort,” she sniffed, brushing off a couple of tears running on her cheeks. “If I leave, Tim, I’d be miserable.”

He took a step back at the brutality of her words. “You’d have me,” he whispered, “I’ll love you until the end of my days, I’d never let you be miserable.”

“It wouldn’t be enough,” she replied, her knuckles tight. “I love you, Tim, with everything in me, more than the number of stars in the Universe, but it wouldn’t be enough to cover the guilt I’d feel.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, his hands gripping the railings angrily. “I’m leaving to battle tomorrow,” he stated, his voice steady and impassive.

“I know,” a mutter left her lips.

“This is your last chance before I go,” he turned to her briskly, “please, run away with me.”

“No,” she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper.

Tim huffed and left, his footsteps heavy and angry. But it wasn’t that that had broken her heart. They always said ‘I love you’ when they had to say goodbye.

Tim hadn’t said ‘I love you’.

Out of everything Tim was expecting from his day -- to dying on the battlefield, to ending a war, the list was practically endless -- he hadn’t expected receiving the letter that was in his hands.

He didn’t even know Roy knew about them. He must have guessed, though, she told everything to Roy, she loved him deeply, a love he sometimes wished resembled the love he shared with his own brothers. But things in the Wayne household were different, more secretive and cold. Sometimes, Tim thought back on how different his life would have turned out if his parents hadn’t dropped him off at Wayne Manor to run. Maybe, he would have followed in his father’s footsteps and became a fine swordsmith, maybe worthy enough to work for the Wayne family like his father before him. Maybe, it would have happened what his parents feared the most: they would have run out of business, losing every penny they owned and living in poverty for the rest of their existence.

Tim was ultimately glad his parents had made that tough decision, he wouldn’t be a Prince if they hadn’t, he wouldn’t have met his soulmate if they hadn’t.

Her. He had royally screwed up with her, he shouldn’t have pushed her too far, he knew where she stood on the subject. But he felt his impatience grow inside of him, his frustrations got the better of him and soon he was blinded only by his undying love for her and the anger he felt at the world for failing him once again.

Tim hadn’t said ‘I love you’ to her when he left. It was that realisation that pained in his chest even now, as Jason handed him a foreign letter from Roy, her brother. It was that regret that flooded him when he read the rushed words scratched on paper, his heart picking up a beat as his eyes processed the fatalistic words presented to him.

He stood up briskly from his seat, ignoring Dick rambling about the strategy they were supposed to adopt to overturn their enemy. He heard some complaints, Bruce calling after him asking where he was going. Tim ignored, only capable of focusing on the letter and his last conversation with her, the things he did not say to her and the regret he felt on the things that had been said.

Tim didn’t have anything on him other than his sword and that cursed piece of paper, but he still made his way to the stables, overlooking the weird stares he received on the way. His horse was softly munching on some hay, unaware of the ride she was about to be put on. The letter found its way to Tim’s pocket hastily, as he put on his saddle on his mare, his jaw tight with emotion.

“So that’s it?” Tim heard, closing his eyes at the voice. “You’re just gonna march to Star City, because Roy sent you a letter?”

“It’s not that, Jason,” Tim muttered, hyper-focused on securing the saddle on his horse.

“I wish I could make you do shit that easily, I would’ve made you do my field notes ages ago,” Jason liked teasing his brother, Tim guessed it was because it was easy to get a reaction out of him.

“It’s not that,” he gritted through his clenched teeth, aggressively releasing the lock of the saddle. His mare complained at the gesture. Even her found a way to scold Tim.

“Then what is it? What’s more important in Star City than here, with your army, fighting for our people?” Jason cleared, watching the anger rise in Tim’s expression quickly and overwhelmingly.

Tim shook his head, not allowing his brother to have the satisfaction of gaining a reaction out of him. He promptly got up on his horse, gently guiding her towards the exit. Jason got in front of his horse, stopping the motion completely. “Get out of the way, Jason,” Tim’s voice was low and menacingly, “I won’t warn you a second time.”

“You don’t scare me, Timothy,” Jason scoffed at his brother’s attempt of intimidation. “Get over yourself, baby bird, you can’t scare me. Now, tell me, why such a rush?”

Tim’s eyes hovered on his brother’s face, looking down at him. The letter was fished out of his pocket and tossed to Jason. His brother caught it, and hastily read its contents. “So? If they needed help containing these rebels they wouldn’t have sent you a letter,” Jason argued, his hands motioning to his brother.

“Jason,” Tim softly said, “read it again.”

His brother looked at him weirdly and did as he said. His eyes moved more slowly now, taking in the words that had ripped Tim’s heart out of his chest. “Oh,” Jason muttered, looking up at his brother once again, “oh.”

“Get out of the way, please,” Tim begged, his voice breaking.

“What are you gonna do when you get there?” Jason asked, confused at his brother’s reaction. “It’s not like you have any medical expertise, Tim, you’re not going to be able to help her.”

“I don’t know, Jason, I just have to be there,” he responded, briskly. His voice was full of contained emotion, like if Tim mad one false step everything would overflow and he would inevitably break. “I can’t lose her, I just can’t.”

Jason sighed, one of his hands resting on the holster of his sword the other on his waist. It was like he was thinking everything through, analysing thousands of scenarios Tim couldn’t even fathom. Jason was the brother everyone underestimated. He was exceptionally strong and big, he had a knack for violence no other Wayne boy had, but he was an incredible strategist, maybe the best out of all of them.

He stepped out of the way not before saying “I’ll cover for you, but I can’t promise they won’t find out.”

With that Tim ran off, the wind whipping angrily at his hair, reflective of the storm inside himself.

Tim dismounted from his horse just outside the gates of her family’s castle. The guards looked at him suspiciously, as he strode proudly toward the gate that separated him and her. He eyed the guards with an austerity he reserved for a few occasions, he never liked making people feel inferior, but his morals were askew in light of the news weighing down his chest.

“I demand to be let in,” he ordered, his voice stern and tight.

The guard in front of him raised an eyebrow, appalled by Tim’s audacity. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Prince Tim, of Gotham, and I will get in the castle, so please move,” he gathered all the authority he could muster inside him, and spoke as if he was the monarch of that kingdom.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but you do not have authority here,” the guard shook his head, his hand sliding to his sword slowly. Tim took that as a sign of hostility, trying in a peacock kind of way to show he was the one with the upper hand in the situation.

Tim scoffed at the pathetic demonstration, jumping at the throat of the guard and slamming him to the wall behind him. “Listen here, I have been riding for the past 5 hours, I have not stopped once and, at this point, I’m fuelled by spite and anger,” his voice was low and threatening, and he could see fear rise in the guard’s eyes. He couldn’t scare Jason, but he could scare other people. “I’m not going to be stopped by some mid-level pathetic guard,” it was weird saying insulting things to other people. Tim rarely bad-mouthed, but at that moment it felt liberating.

“Tim,” he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, “release the guard.”

Tim looked over his shoulder, Roy standing there with a calm expression, something that contradicted the feeling in his eyes. Tim shoved the guard out of his hands, dropping them violently to his sides. Roy ordered a guard to take care of Tim’s mare, gently leading Tim inside the castle’s grounds.

“She’s been asking for you,” Roy stated, his voice elusive and calm. “No one understands why, but I do.”

“How is she?” the words that Tim was afraid of saying slipped past his lips. Asking how she was made everything that had happened to her, something he had just found out, incredibly real.

“Considering that she spent the past few days being held hostage, considerably well,” Roy conceded, rubbing his hands behind his back. “A bit bruised and shaken up. But, as far as I know, well.”

“Good,” Tim swallowed the lump inside his throat, relieved to hear what Roy had said. They walked down a straight hallway, something he guessed took them from the main gates to near where she was staying.

“She told me what happened between you,” Roy manifested, filling the awkward silence growing. “She’s been beating herself up for it.”

“It’s my fault,” Tim shook his head, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I already knew her answer, it was stupid.”

“It wasn’t, trust me, if I was in the same position as you, I would’ve probably done the same,” he shrugged, turning a sharp left, “probably worse.”

Tim laughed, humourlessly, at Roy’s comment. “Listen, kid, I get it, truly. But with this,” Roy waved his hands around, “sometimes, you gotta play the long game.”

“I hate the long game,” Tim muttered, like a little kid.

“No one said it was going to be easy,” Roy scolded him, like his brother would have done. “But if you truly love her, like you say you do, then play your cards right.”

They stopped, in front of a dirty pink door, Roy’s hands gripped the handle, a small smirk on his face. Tim straightened his posture, shedding the young brother façade he unwillingly slipped on and reverting to the young Prince ways. He took a deep breath, shuffling to organize his emotions inside his brain. Roy opened the door and pushed Tim inside the room, rapidly closing the door back up.

He had never been to her room, even of all those years of courting secretly, sneaking into dark hallways, and kissing under the moonlight. Her room had always felt off bounds to him, even if it had never been expressed as such. He slowly walked into the room further, watching how every corner had her imprint in it.

She was sitting by the window, the curtains opened, a soft summer breeze gently moving her hair out of her eyes. She only wore a simple gown, almost a nightgown, making Tim feel incredibly overdressed. There were bruises littered over her arms and neck, and he felt a mixture of anger and guilt bubble underneath his skin. He struggled to contain it, hoping the people that had done that to her were already six feet underneath the ground.

Her gaze flipped to him, and his stomach somersaulted inside him. She opened a shy smile, waving timidly for him to approach her. He walked calmly towards her, his hands behind his back fidgeting nervously. She got up from her seat, and stood waiting patiently for him.

“Hi,” he whispered, in front of her. His hands itched to touch her, bring her closer and cradle her as if she was the most precious and delicate thing in the world. To him, she was.

“Hi,” she looked down at the ground, her feet bare. “I’m so--”

“No,” he interrupted her, “don’t. I’m the one who should be sorry, I’m the one to blame.”

“Tim, you didn’t do anything.”

“I did everything,” he admitted, “I didn’t say ‘I love you’,” tears sprung to his eyes, ones that he had been trying to keep at bay for a long time. “I left and suddenly you were in danger and I wasn’t there to help you. All because I was stupidly proud and bitter and I--”

“Stop,” her hands found his face, her thumbs brushing carefully on his cheekbones. “It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known. I certainly didn’t.”

“I should have…”

“No, Timmy, you’re just a man,” she took a step closer, her body hovering next to him warmly. It was like the ice that had settled on him instantly melted when she stepped next to him, “one that I love very much. But I made mistakes that night, and so did you. And it’s okay.”

He breathed right for the first time in days. The guilt he had been carrying like a cross on his back felt lighter, almost nonexistent. A smile made way to his face, albeit a timid one, and he grabbed her hands, the warmth she irradiated seeping into him. “I missed you.”

She smiled at him, a smile no longer free of hurt, but full of more meaning than before. “There was a question you asked that night,” she whispered, her breath mingling with his, “one I didn’t answer.”

“There was?”

“Yes,” she nodded, her nose brushing on his delicately. “Ask it again.”

“Are you sure?” Tim looked into her eyes, looking for a sign of uncertainty or regret.

“Just ask it.”

“Will you marry me?” he whispered, his lips brushing hers.

“Yes.”

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