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#if they aren't hurting themselves then why is it your business?
reallyromealone · 2 months
Note
This isn't a request but I'm brain rotting rn about imagining Emma is once again at a toman meeting with another 'girl' and Draken of course scolds her and is like "Don't go bringing your schoolmates to a gang meeting," but it's actually reader crossdressing and Mikey's new bf
Thank you, bye bye I had to tell somebody and I thought you would like it. 🤧
Title: cross dressing
Fandom: Tokyo revengers
Pairing: Mikey x reader
Warnings: slight au, male reader, cross dressing, fluff
Notes: made some slight alterations for the sake of hahas
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
Mikey was slightly annoyed as he heard his younger sister brought someone to a Toman meeting, the girl making friends at university and he often saw her friends when he got home from gang stuff or helping shinichiro with his shop on occasion.
What he wasn't expecting was (name) to be dressed in cute feminine clothes and a mini skirt, tucked flat-- Mikey chuckled silently to himself as he knew (name) probably regretted letting Emma get into drag racing shows. Draken scolded the girl as (name) glanced around and saw Mikey leaned back on his chair with his legs spread, slicked back blond hair showing off his tattoos as he winked before blowing out smoke from his cigarette.
(Name) And Mikey had recently begun dating, the blond initially hesitant when he learned Emma had a male friend and Draken nearly hostile at his girlfriend being so close to the cute boy but they quickly realized that (name) was not interested in Emma or any other girl.
What Draken didn't know was that Mikey immediately went on the hunt, practically popping up anywhere (name) was to flirt with him and eventually begin dating him.
So when the twenty-one year old saw his boyfriends bare thighs swished slightly by stockings and that cute skirt, (name) looked nervous at the look he gave him though... The Toman underlings who stood in position in the back garden of Toman headquarters didn't see the look as their boss being a horny bastard but instead saw it as annoyed.
To be fair, Mikey was incredibly hard to read.
"She can stay but she has to stay out of the way, we aren't responsible if she gets hurt" Draken sighed and kissed Emma's forehead as the blond girl beamed up at the tattooed man "thanks Kenny!" She said sweetly and the giant of a man grumbled but didn't say anything.
(Name) Sat with Emma quietly as they started their meeting, Emma and (name) chatting amongst themselves and working on a project, (name) explaining his half and what he was doing.
They didn't even notice the meeting end until Mikey wandered to them "oi" he said passively as (name) looked up confused and Mikey raised his hand, many members holding their breaths only for Mikey to grip (name)s neck and kiss him softly "what" Baji said confused, he was fully ready to get the cute girls number but seems Mikey got to her first.
"What's with the clothes? They look weird" he asked confused and mitsuya looked up from his laptop, working on business expenses that he will be sending to Koko later "Mikey! Don't tell a girl her clothes look weird! That's rude!"
"But (name) isn't a girl" Mikey said bluntly as he plopped beside (name) and draped himself over the other "I just made (name) wear girl clothes, he owed me a favor" Emma said sweetly "besides he looks cute! Don't judge my fashion Mikey!"
"Wait, she's a dude?" Pah said confused and (name) nodded "yeah "
"Wait why did Mikey kiss you?" Chifuyu was also confused, a group of grown ass men who ran a notorious gang and made illegal millions couldn't figure out was a relationship for the life of them.
"(Name)s my boyfriend" Mikey said bluntly, Draken connecting the dots fast.
That would explain why Mikey went to a specific apartment often.
And based on how he played with (name)s skirt...
He would be going back pretty damn soon.
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the-modern-typewriter · 2 months
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can I request: a villain who betrayed the hero and a hero who still loves them and can’t stop themselves from helping/saving them even after finding out about the betrayal?
"You know," the villain managed. "I never thought you were stupid before."
"Mm, just an easy mark I suppose." The hero kept their back turned, busying themselves with washing the villain's blood off their hands. "You're supposed to be in bed. Go back to bed."
"This is stupid. Saving me is stupid."
"So is standing up in your current state, but you don't see me being a whiny little bitch about it."
The villain was still leaning heavily against the bathroom door when the hero finally turned, any attempts they were perhaps making at being intimidating utterly ruined by the bloodless waxy tinge to their face and the dark circles under their eyes.
The hero raised their eyebrows, shoving down the urge to go to them. "If you pass out, I'm laughing at you and leaving you on the floor."
"But you wouldn't leave me in that place."
"I'm not a monster."
"You're not me."
"Oh please. You're not a monster, you're not that mythic. You're just a run-of-the-mill dick."
The villain huffed something like a laugh, only to grimace, clutching a hand to the freshly placed bandages at their abdomen.
The hero was at their side in a heartbeat. They were glad the villain had squeezed their eyes shut against the pain - it gave the hero time to compose themselves, to keep their flailing hands from steadying the villain.
The villain got the pain under control. They slumped against the wall, sweat beading their forehead, jaw clenched.
"Bed," the hero said, again, voice a little quieter and rougher than before.
"You could have taken me to a hospital. You didn't have to take me to your home."
"The first place they'd look for you is in a hospital. But by all means, you know where the door is. I'm not forcing you to stay. You'll do great on your own. You're used to it."
The villain shot them a look at that, but wobbled back to the bed the hero had initially set them up on. They eased themselves down gingerly and had to take another moment where they were clearly fighting unconsciousness.
It was the hero's turn to lean in the doorway, awkward and orbital, arms folded across their chest.
"You weren't tempted to leave me there?" the villain asked. "After what I did to you?"
The hero's chest ached. They kept their voice light.
"Tempted? Sure."
"But you didn't."
"You know, I never thought you were stupid either," the hero said. "But you're repeating the obvious an awful lot today, so maybe I stand corrected."
"Yeah, alright sunshine," the villain snapped. "It's been a bit of week."
They both lapsed into the silence. The villain seemed to realise what they'd said, breath hitching. They always used to call the hero that, after all. Sunshine. The hero used to be that too.
The villain swallowed. They eyed the hero with a wariness that should have been gratifying but really just hurt.
Wariness. Confusion, too. Something else that the hero didn't want to poke at.
The villain, after all, wasn't repeating themselves because they'd somehow missed the whole rescue situation. They wanted to know why, they wanted to understand, even if they weren't willing to actually come out and say it. To ask outright.
They wanted...
Well. The hero supposed it didn't much matter what the villain wanted anymore.
The villain looked away first. Folded first. They cleared their throat.
"They'll come for me, if I stay here," the villain said. "Come for you, if they think you're harboring me."
"And why would anyone think I would ever do that for you?"
The hero could practically feel the villain tracking them in their periphery vision, studying them with every sense except looking at them directly.
Sunshine, turned to a sun. Dangerous to get close to.
"You are..." The villain stopped. They closed their mouth.
You are doing that for me though, aren't you?
The hero's eyes narrowed.
"Well, thank you, anyway," the villain mumbled instead. "For the rescue. Very heroic of you, as ever."
"It's just what I do. I'd do it for anyone."
"Yeah."
"You're not special."
"Of course not."
"Get some sleep." The hero forced themselves to turn away, even when all they really wanted to do was move closer, check again that the villain was truly okay, keep vigil by their side. "The sooner you're feeling better, the sooner you can get the hell out of my life again."
They all but slammed the bedroom door shut behind them.
They wished it was anywhere near as easy to shut off their heart.
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months
Text
Twst Unveil Event Part 1
Yuurin: Hello, Philomela. Why have you called—
Philomela: WHY HAVE I CALLED?!!
Yuurin: ...
Philomela: YOU KNOW WHY!
Yuurin: Calm down yourself. And no, I have no idea why.
Philomela: *breathes in*
Philomela: Yuurin, the wrestling competition is approaching.
Yuurin: Is it?
Philomela: Yes. AND I CAN'T FIND ANYONE TO FIGHT YOU!
Philomela: A BUNCH OF COWARDS!
Philomela: Calling themselves descendants of Hercules! Ha!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: So why have you called?
Philomela: Well, do you think you can invite some of your schoolmates over?
Philomela: You know, to have a friendly match with you.
Yuurin: I will try—
Philomela: Great! I will write to your headmage! *hangs up*
Yuurin: ...
Deuce: A wrestling competition?
Yuurin: Yes. It's an annual event in the Kingdom of Heroes.
Ace: Wow. So, what's the problem?
Yuurin: Nobody wants to participate.
Ace and Deuce: Huh?
Ace: Aren't people there incredibly strong?
Yuurin: *nods*
Deuce: Then why don't they want to join?
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I've defeated most of them.
Ace and Deuce: !!!
Ace: Y-You don't say...
Yuurin: That's why my trainer, Philomela, was furious.
Yuurin: That wrestling competition is her only entertainment in life.
Ace and Deuce: Hmm...
Ace: And I'm guessing you need students to bring into this competition?
Yuurin: Yes.
Ace: Oh geez. I would like to help you, but I'm busy.
Yuurin: Oh, it's fine. I'm not thinking of inviting you.
Ace: ...
Deuce: Pft— So, anyone in mind?
Yuurin: Yes. I'm thinking of approaching them after recess.
Floyd: Damselfish~! What brings you here~?
Yuurin: Good afternoon, Floyd-senpai. Can I invite you to a wrestling competition—
Floyd: Yes~.
Yuurin: ...
Floyd: Do I get to fight you~?
Yuurin: Yes.
Floyd: Okay~. Is there anything else?
Yuurin: You're free to bring Jade-senpai or Azul-senpai with you.
Epel: I want to go!
Vil: It's a wrestling competition, Epel. You'll be crushed before you even started.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: You can tag along if you want.
Yuurin: But I prefer if Rook-senpai will participate.
Rook: It's a pleasure to be invited by you, Monsieur Tranquille!
Vil: Yes. Rook will be ideal for this type of event. He will not disappoint you.
Epel: Can I go though?!
Vil: You don't have any business there.
Epel: Come on! It's the Kingdom of Heroes!
Vil: ...
Vil: Fine. Yuurin, as long as you promise me to look after Epel.
Yuurin: *nods*
Epel: Yes!
Rook: *chuckles*
Sebek: I AM NOT PARTICIPATING!
Silver: *who has already accepted the offer* Why not?
Sebek: Hmph! My job is to serve My liege. And I have no time for this senseless competition you have.
Silver and Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I see.
Yuurin: It seems I shouldn't have relied on Malleus-senpai's word.
Yuurin: Only Silver fits the description of strong and worthy opponent.
Silver: Malleus is invited to watch and he recommended both of us.
Yuurin: It's fine, Sebek. I will inform Malleus that you decline.
Sebek: W-Wait! You didn't tell me Waka-sama was invited!
Yuurin: Ideally, dorm leaders are needed to supervise the participating students.
Sebek: Well... I'll be happy to join this event of yours, human!
Yuurin: ...
Sebek: What?
Yuurin: Maybe Lilia-senpai is a better option.
Sebek: Y-You're not wrong, however! I can't possibly disappoint My liege!
Silver: Yes, yes. We understand that.
Leona: Won't your parents watch?
Yuurin: No. They will only ask Philomela for results.
Leona: Tch. I see.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: How about you, Leona-senpai?
Leona: ...
Leona: I don't want to see you hurt.
Ruggie: Shishishi! That's right. Leona saw a footage of you fighting and he got mad seeing you injured.
Yuurin: Oh. I was only a beginner that time.
Leona: Is that meant to reassure me?
Yuurin: *nods*
Leona: ...
Leona: No, Yuurin. It doesn't.
Ruggie: *laughs*
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thehusbandoden · 10 months
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You Flinch During an Argument -Bakugo Katsuki
I finished this yesterday but forced myself to wait to post it due to my one part a day pattern I've had going on.
Anyways~ as I said in Shoto's part, I did make this one a bit angstier, but I hope I didn't stray too far away from the original prompt :'). It's kinda bittersweet lol but I kinda like it.
Angst to fluff/Comfort | Kinda bittersweet~ | 993 words | female reader
Warnings!: arguing, yelling, being scared of your partner, parents arguing (the kids were not present), kids being left at school (not for very long), caps, excuses, self hatred, and insulting themselves (Bakugo). Please let me know if I miss any <33
Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi
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You both had been fighting for at least half an hour, screaming at one another for this and that. It started with Bakugo 'forgetting' to pick up your sons from school, and has now escalated into you screaming at him for not 'caring about this family' and his yelling about how hard he works for your family.
No one was totally to blame, both parties had some points that were right, and some that were wrong. But it should have never reached that point.
~~~
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD I WORK TO PROVIDE FOR THIS FAMILY! I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU BEGGED FOR KIDS THAT I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HELP OUT MUCH! WHAT ELSE DO YOU EXPECT FROM ME!"
"I UNDERSTAND THAT- BUT YOU'VE HAD THREE DAYS OFF! YOU'RE FULLY RESTED- AND SHOULD'VE PICKED UP THE KIDS NO PROBLEM WHILE I WAS HELPING OUT YOUR MOM!"
"WELL WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO! I FORGOT ABOUT IT, OKAY! AND YOU DIDN'T CALL TO REMIND ME EITHER!"
"I EXPECTED YOU TO HAVE ENOUGH BRAINS TO REMEMBER, BUT I GUESS THAT WAS IDIOTIC OF ME!"
"I HAVE SO MUCH TO DEAL WITH BESIDES THIS BULL CRAP THAT'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY! I WORK, YOU TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS!"
"KATSUKI I CANNOT WATCH THE KIDS 24-7 WITHOUT YOUR HELP! I NEED BREAKS TOO! YOU HAVE TWO DAYS OFF A WEEK TO RELAX, AND CATCH UP ON SLEEP! WHILE I HAVE NIGHT TIME, BATHROOM BREAKS, RUNNING ERANDS, AND NAP TIMES TO CATCH A BREAK! I SHOULD BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY HUSBAND TO HELP OUT WHEN HE HAS TIME OFF!"
"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTED THE KIDS IN THE FIRST PLACE- WHY ARE YOU WHINING TO ME ABOUT HAVING TO TAKE CARE OF 'EM!"
"WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THEY AREN'T YOURS!? WE BOTH AGREED ON DOING THE BEST WE COULD FOR OUR KIDS, AND YOU SAID THAT YOU'D HELP OUT WHENEVER YOU COULD!"
"Y/N IT WAS THIS ONE TIME- I WAS BUSY, I FORGOT!"
"YOU WERE PLAYING GAMES ALL DAY WITH YOUR FRIENDS! THAT IS NOT BUSY!"
Blazing anger filled Bakugo as he stepped towards you, planning on simply getting closer to you to somehow try and make you see his side of things. He didn't mean to forget about picking up his kids, he loves his kids, he was simply engrossed in talking about them to his friends as he gamed, totally forgetting about the time and the fact that they were at school, waiting for someone to pick them up.
In truth, Bakugo felt bad. Really bad. But you wouldn't stop, so he continued, his unwavering pride making it near impossible to simply apologize and leave the argument behind.
Storming towards you, Bakugo stopped dead in his tracks as you flinched from him, eyes holding a certain terror. Wait- did you- did you think he was going to hurt you?!
Apologies and 'are you okay's were caught in Bakugo's throat as he opened his mouth, too terrified to speak.
Y/n.. his y/n was scared..of him. HIs y/n- the person that tore him out of his 'I don't care about anything or anyone' stage. She brought him out of his dark pit of self loathing, hating himself for how weak he was, how he couldn't do anything compared to that idiot Deku. She brought light into his world, she is his light. His first and last love, his wife, his center, his other half, his partner, his reason for life, the mother of his children, his one and only lover, his queen, his everything.
And he scared her.
Screamed at her for something that was his fault.
Treated her so badly that she flinched away from him- terror filling her eyes.
Her gorgeous e/c eyes. The same eyes that his sons had inherited. Now he's brought tears to three sets of those goregous eyes. What a scum bag.
Pain seared through Bakguo as he embraced his y/n, knowing if he left now she would entirely break, thinking that he was giving up on her. On their love. When in reality, he would't be. He would never dream of leaving her, or their beautiful children.
Because no matter how much of an a-hole Bakugo may be, he would never stoop that low. Never. And so he held her, and continued to hold her as she tearfully cussed him out, telling him how much she loved him and how much of an a-hole he was for treating her like that, their kids like that.
He just held her, telling her that he was sorry, that he knew, that he would make it up to her -and their seven year old twins- somehow.
And for now, that was enough. His love, and comfort was enough as you clung to him, insulting him while telling him that you loved his idiotic self in the same sentence, telling him that you loved him too much to not be able to forgive him.
And that if he was serious about making things right, that you would help him.
Because you were Bakugo y/n*. You chose to take his name and become his wife. Bakugo has helped you through so many up and downs, so you would do the same for him. Because he truly loved you, and you truly loved him.
*Japanese last names go in front of the first name to pay respect to the family name, and that's why Kirishima and Bakugo's other classmates call him Bakugo instead of Katsuki -to pay respect to his family name-. So you would be (in Japan anyway) Bakugo y/n (if you choose to take his last name) and strangers/aquaintnesses/not so close friends and co-workers would call you Bakugo instead of y/n. Annd due to me not liking Bakugo a whole lot I call him Bakugo or Baka/Bakuhoe instead of Katuski and call Todoroki and Midoriya, Shoto and Izuku- do you get what I'm saying?? I hope you do <33
Series' masterlist | Bakahoe's Bakugou's masterlist | Main masterlist | Navigation
Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated<33
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.
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channelinglament · 1 year
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When you hadn't logged in for a few days
Ft. Diasomnia (💀)
Summary: Basically you hadn't logged in twst for a while now (could be 2 days or more) for whatever reason. But sadly you didn't know, that your game is sentient.
Tw: yandere, bad grammar, death, murder, religious themes.
🐀 (it's me, the anon-) @writingforatwistedworld
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Lilia
Plz forgive this world that is full of sinners-
Fr prays and slays (people)
Alright, let's begin on how it happened:
Lilia was as always waiting for your return. He made himself look presentable, and stayed nearby ramshackle to greet you when you log in (aka when you get weekly stuff like gems and etc)
You didn't come back that day, sadly.
So what does our dear fae do?
Pray. A lot.
He is afraid that he or someone has somehow wronged you.
We're you busy?
Were they not praying hard enough?
Did he need to kill someone-?
And like that, he tried to sleep.
The same was on second day.
But when the third day (afternoon actually) comes, oh he is going insane.
This world is so full of sin! It is filled with sinners to the brim isn't it? That's why you aren't coming back, he's sure of it!
So, the massacre started. You can't tell me otherwise. He prays that you come back, while he slays those, he deems sinners.
If it's for you, he's ready to starts/wage a war again.
Malleus
Congrats, it's the end of the world!
Trust me, if you logged in right at that moment, you would have the longest log in in your history.
Unlike Lilia, he immediately panicked. While you weren't around, the weather was terrible.
A few people probably died because of the thunder
He prays, and prays hard.
On the second day he tries to use his magic to see what you're doing (your camera)
If you're playing another game then he immediately destroys(burns) the world.
If you're busy, tries to wait.
If talking to someone, the first option happens aswell
On third day it's the end of the world. Literally.
Unless you decide to log in, at that exact moment, say bye-bye to everyone alive except a few faes and maybe people.
Silver
Understands that you may be busy.
But still prays nonetheless. (He was raised by Lilia, a cute lunatic after all)
Honestly is afraid that someone might've hurt you. What if you're in danger and he doesn't know about it??
He's supposed to be your knight in shining armor, protect you with his life. What if you're in danger rn and he cannot do anything about it???! (Not like could've helped even if you were, he's in game. But he could've told Malleus or Lilia, then you'd be in game sooner than expected)
Similarily to Lilia, starts massacring people calling them sinners.
But I feel like it's at the end of 2nd day? Stealthily btw
He was sleeping, then heard noises. People were talking about you and how they thought you abandoned them.
He was angry and uhh
Made ketchup for Lilia to cook.
Even if you did abandon them, it's not your fault! But he's sure you didn't, they probably just needed to get rid of sinners that have wronged you and made you upset!
Sebek
Screams
Shocked
Prays
And then
Starts giving you offerings.
Since the day 1
He definitely needs to try harder! Everyone needs!
The reason you're not here is because they're not praying hard enough! They're not offering you what you would like! Of course you won't come back if they won't!
Literally kills everyone left and right.
And offers them to you.
Negative two out of ten, would not recommend.
Fr, he doesn't think that it could be 'cuz you're busy. Probably you're offended that they haven't devoted themselves to you completely.
He wishes that everyone would be like them, on valley of thorns. But sadly, some see you as an equal or just an all knowing entity. Or even worse, but he doesn't talk about Shaftlands. At least some nations are good.
But he still thinks they're wrong in thinking you can have flaws too.
It's their fault for you leaving them!
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mint-8 · 11 days
Text
Platonic Yandere Pet × GN! Reader
Disclaimer: Please, do not read this as romantic or sexual. Having those sorts of relationships or feelings towards real animals are signs of mental illness (zoophilia), and I implore that you get some sort of therapy if you have such emotions towards animals or your own pets. Read this as purely platonic love.
- While it's true that we can't know for sure what our pets think of us, we can imagine how far their love for their owners would go if it was ever tested, especially if their previous homes weren't the best.
Platonic Yandere Dog
- Yandere Dog who you adopted as a rescue. They came from an abusive household and were extremely afraid of humans, whimpering in fear when a person got too close and with low energy all day long.
- Yandere Dog that, when they realized that all the treats, toys, and soft beds were proof of your love for them, finally let their true colors out.
- Yandere Dog whose tail wags a mile a minute every time you pet them or give them kisses, guaranteed they'll lick your entire face as a thank you! Who cuddles in your bed every night, eats alongside you in every meal, and who never tries to run away. They will always stay close to you and would never dare to hurt their owner!
- Yandere Dog who wants to play and receive affection 24/7, and sort of understands that you can't always give them love because you are "busy" or something like that. It's ok! They can stay sit next to you on the floor or the couch or bed until you are done!
- Yandere Dog who waits dutifully in front of your home's door for your arrival! Who also tends to growl and bark at anyone else that isn't you, but they wouldn't dare to bit them, oh God no! Well, maybe if they try anything suspicious.
- Yandere Dog who would, with no hesitation, maul a person or animal into a bloody death if they ever sense they are trying to hurt you! They would never forgive themselves if they allowed their precious human to get hurt by an enemy! They would rather die than let that happen!
Platonic Yandere Cat
- Yandere Cat who you found abandoned in a street near your home. They were dirty and clearly hurt and/or sick.
- Yandere Cat who was taken directly to the nearest veterinarian and who you decided to adopt to save the little kitten from death.
- Yandere Cat who doesn't fully trust this human. They were abandoned by their previous owners as soon as they stopped being "cute", why wouldn't you be any different from them?
- Yandere Cat who will hiss and scratch you every time you get close, and who always keeps a distance during the first months of living with you. But even with their aggression, you persevered and continued to buy them the best food, toys, and softest beds you could find.
- Yandere Cat who mellows down over time and finally allow you to pet them! Not for long, though, for they will only grace you with their presence for a few seconds and then run away.
- Yandere Cat who, at last, realizes that you, their owner, truly love them and wish to protect them no matter what. After this realization, they immediately become extremely cuddly, seating and sleeping in your lap, purring every time you scratch behind their ears and licking your face as a reward for giving them kisses!
- Yandere Cat who walks all around your house because they own it and makes sure to kill any pests that they can find while you're out! They are an apex predator, after all! They must teach those bugs who is the boss in this household!
- Yandere Cat who mews at you to get your attention when you are busy and, if they don't get it, will eventually break something so you give them some cuddles. They might be an attention seeker, but are a total cuddle bug as well! Always sleeping alongside you in bed every night!
- Yandere Cat who judges every visitor that dare to enter their realm and who hisses and scratches them if they ever get too close.
- Yandere Cat who is well aware they aren't the strongest, but are willing to risk their lives in order to protect yours! The kind and sweet human who saved them from a life in the streets, and who gave them a new chance in life!
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doberbutts · 4 months
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Thank you for making the schindler post, it perfectly illustrates why I hate the way people will act like people who hurt others (like active nazis and racists) aren't capable of regular emotion and thought. Second chances are often seen as bad when it comes to violence and crime, but if you never give someone the chance to change, form different opinions, or see the damage they or their associates have caused, they'll just keep taking the path of least resistance, keep following orders. I just want people to take a serious look at a nazi who changed his mind. There is nothing inherently evil about anyone, there are only moral and immoral choices.
It helps, I think, to understand that he did not join the nazi party because he hated Jews. Even what research I did on the real man said that for the most part his reasons for siding with Hitler were purely economical. And, as I've said before, Hitler did not start with "I hate Jews let's kill them all" but with "look how bad the economy sucks! And who is doing well while the economy sucks? The Jews. That means they're the ones behind making the economy suck!" to get people on his side.
I think Schindler did have some internalized antisemitism. How could he not? He thought of the plan to use almost exclusively Jewish slave labor as good business sense. Cheaper than Poles, more desperate for the work and thus less likely to complain about conditions or quit, can't fuss about wanting wages or better hours, what's not to like? Supposedly his workers were treated well. I don't know if that makes it particularly better. I wonder how his workers felt, staring at the emblem proudly pinned to his jacket, knowing it stood for the extermination of their entire people.
I wonder if any of them ever considered it might be a trick. An elaborate long game to get them to trust and slip up. To get them to reveal the hiding places and secret messages and the others striving to find or make a way out.
I think the movie played with that concept a little bit, when the character of Stern (who apparently was 3 different real guys rolled into 1) is portrayed as always being a little standoffish and cold to Schindler until close to the very end. He was afraid of him. Schindler held not only his life but the lives of all of the people working there (plus more, irl) in his hands. He rubbed shoulders with high ranked officials and knew personally more than one known sadistic bastard that actively got off on murdering Jews. All it would take is a single word and it would be more than just those in the factory who died.
But then the ghetto was cleansed. In history, Schindler had advance warning and made his workers lock themselves in the factory overnight to spare them. In the movie, Schindler did not have warning, and saw the chaos from atop a vantage point as he'd meant to pass by.
Either way, both in life and in film, that was the line. He was, at minimum, willfully blind and passive to the evidence of what was happening up to that point. Once he couldn't deny it, he put his foot down and said, no more. I'm not doing this. I can't save everybody but you aren't getting your hands on anyone in my charge. Put me in jail if you have to. This is wrong.
He had everything to gain by continuing to look away. In the movie, Stern says something to the tune of "you'll have to hire Hungarians and Poles. They cost a little more but you'll still be rich" when they're both faced with Hitler's final solution. No more cheap Jewish labor when they're all dead, after all. It is at that point that they come up with the list- to get as many Jews as possible out of Germany before they're all sent to their deaths. He could have just said "yeah, sorry. I tried". Stern even more or less gave him permission to do so, like he was expecting it.
But he didn't. He said no fuck that, it's bullshit. It's not happening. I'm not letting it happen. They can arrest me or kill me if they want but if I'm alive for it I'm not just going to stand back and watch.
But I think it is difficult for people to grapple with that level of complexity. Not everyone he saved thinks he was overall a good person. His motives were not always pure. In fact many times his motives were just about lining his own pockets. But when he saw atrocities happen, he put his foot down and refused to participate. Even at his own cost- he had the equivalent amount of money back then as would be needed to retire early nowadays from his factory labor. He spent it on bribes and rations to keep them safe. He went to jail several times for refusing to back down. He risked his own neck by networking with other factory owners to get them to do the same. He could have been executed for this at any point. Nazis loved public spectacle executions for traitors and for collusion with Jews.
He wasn't a perfect ally. But I think I'd rather an imperfect ally do whatever they can to help, than no allies at all.
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python333 · 8 months
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Hello!! I absolutely adore your 141 platonic fics, I litterlay giggle and kick my feet when you post new storys about it. Especially since they're always gender neutral! Litteraly always check to see if youve posted a new fic, but anways!
I'm a really big sucker for found family mental health fics, especially when I'm experiencing rough times. If your comfortable with it, I was wondering if you could make the 141 catch Reader self harming or maybe just seeing the self harm on their arms accidentally and comforting them. Always love a comforting found family fic on cold nights.
If it's easier, I really love really any of your hurt/comfort type 141 fics with all my soul and eat them up anytime you post them. Especially since there isnt much gn!reader and TF 141 platonic hurt/comfort fics. So if you aren't busy than that's another option I would love to see!!
If your uncomfortable with it then that's fine and you can just ignore this post! Make sure to take care if youself aswell author. You're absolutely amazing! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
self-slaughter — python333
— — — —
synopsis reader is a medic and is caught harming themselves by the 141 in the medbay!
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
word count 6.6k
warnings self-harm [specifically using a scalpel], self-harm scars, dark thoughts [nothing too bad, but thoughts of pulling off your skin and harming yourself], painful wound cleaning [with iodopovidone], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].
note hello anon!! i too am a big sucker for found family mental health fics, and completely understand this request, and i will happily write it for you!! a lot of this is based on my own experiences with this, so i hope that's okay and that you enjoy the fic!! as well as this request, i'll use this fic as an excuse to write a few prompts on my bad things happen bingo card, which will be displayed at the end of the fic! the prompt used will be: painful wound cleaning! expect wayyyy more angst after this LMAO. also, if this feels like glorification or anything else inappropriate for a fic like this, then please let me know! since it's mainly based on my own experiences, i assume it wouldn't feel *too* much like that, but still!
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It gets kind of old after so long of doing it. 
Almost like it’s a chore—as if stealing glances at your medical equipment, tools meant to save the lives of others, and wishing that it were being used to draw blood from your body was just an inconvenience. You complain about it in your head like you used to about school, like it was nothing more than some homework that was due a minute before midnight. 
Right now, you’re alone in the medical bay. It wasn’t often that you were, typically two bumbling idiots would stumble in every few minutes talking about how they got injured while sparring, but for the past thirty minutes it’s been silent. While you appreciated the break from the constant explanations of why the soldiers you were to tend to had gotten injured, with the silence came very unwanted thoughts. 
And with nobody to focus on came your unwilling lingering stare at the sharp scalpel on the small metal equipment cart that was just a few feet away from where you sat. It didn’t help that you felt oddly guilty today, either. 
Well, the guilt wasn’t odd. You knew where it came from. It just felt odd, considering the cause for it happened a week ago. 
The cause had been on a critical mission last week, where you were responsible for carrying medical supplies and ensuring the team’s well-being and general health. The medical equipment wasn’t particularly expensive or hard to get, but it was still incredibly important. 
However, on that same mission, right towards the end of it, you’d been caught in the midst of an intense gunfight. Distracted by the heavy enemy fire, you dropped the small bag you’d been using to carry the medical supplies, and hadn’t noticed you did until it was too late. By the time you and the others were out and heading back to base, you had just realized you left behind the medical equipment. 
All week, your fellow task force members had reassured you that it was okay and that it wasn’t that big of a deal, considering nobody got hurt. Still, even a week later, you’re hung up on it. Had someone gotten injured, what could you have done? You didn’t have any supplies to help them, so what would you have done then? Just the thought of that possibility makes you shudder. 
The scalpel looks so tempting.
It’s not like you hadn’t used it before—you have the scars to prove you had, ranging from small lines that could be mistaken for cat scratches to tiger-stripe length cuts that make your thighs look as though they’d been mauled by a large animal. As elegantly as you describe them in your head, the visuals of them aren’t nearly as pretty. With the help of that scalpel, a few sharp needles, and some medical scissors, you’d successfully made it look as though a bear had tried to attack you and tear your legs off. 
Ironic, isn’t it? A medic harming themselves? 
Your job is to literally save the lives of others, and here you are, staring at the closest thing you have to a knife in the medbay. It’s become as easy as blinking for you—which is scary, honestly, the way you’ve developed a tolerance for cutting yourself and stapling your skin back together if you’ve cut too long or deep. 
It’s no longer enough to just scrape something sharp across your skin and watch blood bubble up from the broken seams of your flesh, no, now you have to cut even deeper to actually feel anything. You have to feel the scalpel being buried to the hilt in your flesh, and you have to see the way blood spurts out of the self-inflicted wound after you pull out the tool. 
You continue to stare at the scalpel, sure that you look like you’re in some sort of trance right now. 
It looks so tempting. You can remember the last time you used it—three days ago, the longest you’d gone without it in a while. Similar to cigarette-addicts, you often tell yourself that you’re able to stop whenever you’d like—that you’re able to quit at any time. It’s a lie, and you know it, but you still like to pretend that it’s true. 
You’re still staring at the scalpel. 
Its sharpened edge reflects the overhead light, creating a bright glow that strains your eyes when you stare at it for too long. The metal of the handle is worn down from use, even though it’d only been in the medbay for maybe a few months—something nobody had questioned yet, thankfully. The clean blade, replaced just yesterday, had no traces of filth or grime on it, making it even more tempting. 
You blink. You hadn’t noticed the burning of your eyes until you forced them away from the small knife. 
You move your gaze to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers, gently tugging at a hangnail that’s been lingering on your thumb for the past few minutes. As you pull on it, you feel the sting that it brings, though that sting now feels dull compared to the other things you’ve done to yourself. 
It almost feels like a small pinch compared to the ways you’ve mutilated your thighs on certain nights that didn’t allow you the energy to do anything else, or the ways you’ve carved apologies in the forms of lines into your arms to try and gain forgiveness for your thoughts and temptations. 
You pull the hangnail off completely and watch the miniscule droplets of blood bleed through your flesh and meet your skin and nail. Before you only had the energy to do your job and harm yourself, you would’ve hissed at the sting pulling off the small bit of skin caused you and grabbed a bandaid immediately, but now, all you can think about is how it isn’t enough. 
About how much better you’d feel if you pulled all your skin off. If you could feel every inch of your skin stretched to its limits and torn off of your body, because God knows you deserve it. 
The thought makes you wince. That is… disgusting. Why am I thinking about that? You shake your head in hopes that it would shake away the dark thought, but instead the action makes it rattle inside your brain and break off into tiny bits in pieces, small unwanted thoughts of wounding your flesh rolling around your mind. 
Similarly to Sisyphus and his boulder, you try to push those thoughts out of your mind, your hands starting to curl into tight fists, but you just can’t. Every time you push a thought back, it comes rolling back to the forefront of your mind, the momentum it gets from being pushed back so far only to get rocketed forwards making it even more unbearable to think about. 
The fists your hands have formed become tighter. 
Each thought that gets pushed back only jumps forwards once again, ricocheting around your brain, the effort of trying to ignore them making your ears ring. 
Before you realize it, your gaze snaps back to the scalpel. 
You don’t even notice the blood that begins to spill from your palms from how deeply your nails cut into your skin. 
Every thought tries to be louder than the other, creating an unholy cacophony of sound; a terrifying harmony that only grew louder every second that passed. You stare at the scalpel. It continues to reflect the bright gleam of the overhead light, and it continues to make your eyes strain the more you look at it, but you can’t find it in yourself to be all that bothered about the eyestrain. 
You unclench your fists and stand up, walking the short distance over to the metal medical cart where the scalpel lays, and you grab the handle of it with shaky hands. You look over at the door for a moment, and stay there for another few seconds.
Once you see that nobody’s coming in, you rush yourself to one of the beds, sliding open the curtains in front of it and sliding them back so that they’ll obscure anyone else’s view of you using the scalpel on yourself. 
You sit on the bed and although the scalpel almost slips out of your hand because of the blood from your palms, you manage to keep held in your tight fist, holding it like you would a pencil; tucked under the base of your thumb, and going through the gap between your index and middle finger. 
With your hands still trembling and your breath uneven, as well as a bustling mind that only grew louder as the scalpel in your hand grew closer to the skin of your forearm, you made the first incision. Almost immediately, your mind quieted, and your headache dimmed. 
Quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of a clear head, you lift the scalpel from your skin, not waiting to watch the blood bubble up from your open wound like you usually would, instead opting to make another incision right next to it.
Being a medic, there was nothing you could really do to stop yourself from thinking about how deep each incision was, and how deep you were cutting into your flesh—so while you cut yourself, a train of thought begun. 
Half an inch deep, You push the scalpel deeper, Now a full inch. Should take a month or two to fully heal. Wouldn’t scar. 
The thought of it not scarring should make you happy, or at least, neutral, but instead the thought makes you frown. Some odd hunger that comes from the indefinite pit in your stomach craves evidence for the malice you’ve shown towards your own skin, something that would prove your self-hatred. 
So, you go another half inch deeper. Scarring would be possible, but not as high of a chance as if you went another half inch. With that thought, you go the last half inch. There we go. 
You slide the scalpel blade through your flesh, the blade cutting through it like it would a firm fruit like a pear. It’s easier to cut through skin when the skin is pulled taut, You think, If only I had an extra hand.
You pull out the blade and repeat. You feel less guilty already.
All that worry about fucking up during your last assignment washes away, like the wave of guilt that overcame you earlier receded and pulled back that worry with it, lowering the tide of shame and self-reproach within you. In fact, the tide lowers so much that it almost completely disappears from your mind—like it never existed in the first place.
Reminds me of a tsunami, You repeat your actions with the scalpel, When the tides get low, so low that the ocean floor shows and you could walk where you’d originally have to swim, it’s because a tsunami is building up.
You look down at your work. Your forearm is a bloody mess, crimson red dripping down to your fingers and threatening to drop onto the stark white sheets of the bed you’re sitting on. You sigh tiredly and get up from the bed, putting the end of the scalpel’s handle into your mouth—ignoring the voice in the back of your head that reprimands you for not thinking about bacteria or contamination—and biting down to hold it whilst you slide the curtains in front of the bed to the side, walking out of the small resting area. 
You grab the scalpel and set it onto the metal medical cart by your desk, grabbing the gauze on that same cart, opening the small box it’s kept in with your non-bloody hand. It’s a struggle, but you manage it open, and you shake the roll of gauze out onto the cart. 
In the middle of you attempting to pull the end of the gauze off of the roll so that you could begin to wrap it around the red lines decorating your forearm, you hear loud footsteps walking near the medbay. You freeze in place, the gauze roll in one hand, your eyes burning holes through the door with how intensely you stare at it. 
There’s a knock. Then another. 
The door handle twists. 
You stare at the door, and everything feels like it’s in slow motion for a second. 
The door opens. 
“Hey, dae ye hae any—” Soap walks in, the sergeant taking one look at you before cutting himself off with a confused and immediately worried, “Holy shit, whit happened tae yer arm? Are ye alright?” 
He rushes over to you and takes your bleeding forearm into his hand. You almost immediately rip it away from his grip. 
“Nothing! Everything’s fine! Just an accident,” You lie, holding the blood-covered forearm close to your chest, “I was just about to clean it up.” 
“Dae ye need help wrappin’ it, an cleanin’ it up, or anything?” Soap asks, eyebrows furrowed and his expression beyond worried. 
“Nope,” You insist, “It’s fine. All good here.” 
“... Ye sure?” 
“Uh huh,” You nod your head, “All good. Don’t worry about it.” 
“‘kay then,” Soap tilts his head and crosses his arms, “Whit happened?” 
“Just a little accident with some of the equipment,” You nod down to the bloody scalpel on the medical cart, “That’s all.” 
It must be obvious you’re lying, because Soap sighs and says, “I think we baith ken that that’s a lie.” 
You stay silent for a few moments, before Soap speaks up again, “Ye ken if ye dinnae tell me, I’ll jist jump tae conclusions, richt?”
You take a deep breath before mumbling something under your breath. When Soap’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, you repeat louder, “I used the scalpel. On myself.” 
“Ye whit?” 
“I used the scalpel on myself,” You look away, and rush out, “and I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t help it, it’s not like— like a normal thing or anything, it’s just this once, I swear, and— and—” 
“[c/n], calm down,” Soap quickly uncrosses his arms and sets both hands onto your shoulders, furrowed eyebrows now taking a more concerned shape, “It’s okay.” 
You take a deep breath and look at him, looking at his nose instead of his eyes because you don’t think you could handle eye contact right now, “I’m really sorry.” 
“Why would ye dae that tae yerself?” Soap asks, voice soft and almost pitying, which makes you want to curl up and die. 
You shrug, not wanting to answer verbally. 
“Dae ye— dae the others ken?” Soap questions. 
“No.” 
“I’m—” Soap looks conflicted for a moment, “I hae an assignment… I’ll get Gaz tae help ye, aye? An’ I’ll check in wi’ ye as soon as possible?” 
You hesitate, but end up nodding in agreement, thankful that Soap offered to get Gaz rather than one of the others. The others seemed so oddly scary right now that you don’t even want to think about how they’d react to this whole situation. It’s all gone by so fast—one moment you were sitting on a hospital bed, the next you’re found out by Soap of all people—you’ve barely had time to think about the others. 
“Okay. Okay, okay,” Soap repeats the word under his breath like a mantra, thinking to himself for a second before sighing and looking down at you again, “Jesus, fuck, okay. I’ll go get him, ye stay here, aye?” 
You nod again, this time your vision begins to get more blurred. 
“Ye’re gonnae be okay, okay?” Soap tries to reassure you. You nod once again, sniffling a little bit, making Soap’s gaze soften.
He takes his hands off of your shoulders and gives you one last sad look before turning around and rushing out of the medbay, his thundering footsteps growing quieter as he gets closer to Gaz’s location—most likely his sleeping quarters. 
You wait a moment and when you hear no footsteps, your gaze goes back to the blade. It’s not like it’ll hurt to do a few more. I’ll stop when the others arrive. 
You grab the handle of the blade, and as quickly as you can, akin to an addict scrambling for substance, you slice through the skin of your non-mutilated hand. You make several quick and deep gashes before dropping the scalpel onto the medical cart again, breathing heavy, the cuts this time actually hurting. It felt like fire was running rampant through your nerves, all stemming from the self-induced wounds, and you winced at the new pain. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but still.
When you hear footsteps again, you can tell they aren’t Soap’s. 
The door clicks open and in walks Gaz, already looking very worried—presumably from what Soap told him about your… situation—with another person in tow. Right behind him, Price walks in, expression neutral so far. 
Gaz looks over at you, his eyes widening as he sees the bloody gashes in your forearms. Without a second thought, he rushes over to you, his hand reaching for your forearm. Before you can stop him, he grabs your bloody forearm and pulls it up a bit so that he can look at it closer. You flinch, and Price quickly walks over to you two before Gaz can even utter a single word. 
“Let’s not, okay?” Price’s version of ‘knock it off’, “I’m here, I’ll take care of their… thing. You hand me what I tell you to. Understood?” 
“Yup— Yes, sir. Captain,” Gaz corrects himself quickly, making a slip-up that in any other situation would’ve made you at least chuckle, but all you can do now is stare at the pair as you hold your bloody arms to your chest. 
Price looks back over to you and nods over to one of the many empty curtain-surrounded beds and says, “Go sit over there and wait for a few seconds.” 
You nod, not knowing what else to do or say, and immediately walk over there. It’s the room furthermost to the right, the one that’s also the closest to the door and the one you’d coincidentally gone into to cut yourself. 
You slide the curtains to the side and sit down on the white bed, and just a few seconds later, just as Price said, he walked in as well. He sat next to you, Gaz in tow, the latter carrying a jar of cotton pads and balls as well as a bottle of Betadine.
Betadine—or iodopovidone, whichever name you preferred—was a sort of antiseptic that was generally used for cleaning cuts and wounds. Maybe not ones as deep as yours, but it would still work just as well. 
Despite it not being alcohol-based, or really having any alcohol in it, it still hurts the same as rubbing alcohol would, which you were… definitely not looking forward to.
“Sergeant,” Price takes the jar and bottle of Betadine from Gaz, “Go and grab the skin stapler for me.” 
“Yes, sir,” Gaz nods, walking out of the room once again. Price sets the jar and bottle of Betadine onto the bed beside himself after he leaves.
With you and Price now in the room alone, he turns to you and holds out his hand with his palm faced up for your arm silently. You carefully put your forearm onto his hand, watching as he gently pulls it closer to him, looking a bit closer at it before sighing through his nose and using his free hand to open the jar of cotton pads. 
“How did this happen?” He asks, breaking the silence. 
“Soap didn’t fill you in?”
“No.”
You think about what to tell him for a moment. What’s too straightforward? What’s too vague? How do I not overstep? How do I not sound like I just want attention? 
Eventually, you settle on, “I was— … I saw the uh… scalpel, and I just… decided to use it a little bit. On myself.” Definitely not the best you can do, but what else could you say? ‘Oh, I cut myself with a scalpel because I felt guilty and if I didn’t I probably would’ve had a panic attack or a mental breakdown’?
“…” Price pauses for a moment, eyes twitching for a split second before he continues his movements to grab a cotton pad and questions you, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“You know what I’m asking, [c/n].” 
He’s asking why you did it. There’s not one simple answer you could give him—sure, you could tell him that you felt guilty and it was a bad habit that you’ve told yourself you could stop but never tried to, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.
You can’t fully express or dictate why you do it, you just do. It’s like when you cut slits into bread before baking it. Without those slits, the bread would crack and split at the seams on its own, but with them, the splitting and expanding of the dough is controlled. 
Except, with you, it’s like you’re cutting yourself before the tension building inside of you makes you burst at the seams. Taking a blade to your skin has given you a sense of control—maybe that’s why it’s so addicting, You think, it’s the only way I’ve been able to control my feelings. 
But you can’t just say all of that. Well, you could, but did you want to? Fuck no. 
Instead, you opt for shrugging, which doesn’t satisfy Price one bit. 
“I could see you thinking about it,” He sighs, “I know you at least have some sort of real answer.” 
Well, fuck. “It’s a long answer.” 
“I never said it couldn’t be.”
He doesn’t move to grab the Betadine at all, instead waiting for you to talk. 
You purse your lips and think for another moment before finally talking again, “I was feeling really guilty and tense, and I guess it just got too much, so I just kind of… had to. Like I felt like I was gonna fuckin’… I dunno, have a nervous breakdown or something. And honestly, it’s a really stupid reason, because the thing that I’m feeling guilty about happened like a week ago, but still—I’ve been feeling really guilty about it. It—It’s not like I can’t stop, if I tried I could, I swe—swear, and I just— it’s been really easy to just— you know? I— honestly, it’s not that big of a deal—” 
“Hey, hey—” Price brings a hand to your shoulder and softens his voice, “It’s okay. I understand.” 
“I ju—st… I’m sorry, I—” 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, quickly bringing that same hand up to cup your jaw, “You’re okay. You don’t have to say sorry.” 
“But I—” 
“Shh.” You hadn’t even noticed how frantic your breathing had gotten during your small word vomit. And to just make things worse, there’d been tears gathering at your water line, well on their way to spilling over and creating tear tracks down your cheeks. 
You can’t help but let go of all the tension in your shoulders the moment Price starts gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over your cheek. The moment he does that, it’s practically game over for you. 
Those tears spill out from the corners of your eyes and you can already feel your next breath get caught in your throat, leaving you to just let Price gently guide your head to lean forwards against his chest, letting out small hiccups and trying desperately to hold back the sobs you want to let out.
It all happened so fast, you don’t even know how you got here. One moment you were doing a good job of somewhat keeping your guard up, the next your resolve was crumbled completely by the gentle and oddly caring touch of Price’s hand.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, then someone walks in while you’re burying your head further into Price’s chest—Ghost. You can tell it’s him by the way he walks. He has long strides, he never drags his feet, and the moment he slides the curtains to the side to see you, his footsteps stop. They start up again a moment later, and he sits by your side, opposite of where Price is sitting—to your right instead of your left. 
Gaz must’ve let him in while he was looking for the stapler, You think, sniffling against Price’s chest. Normally, you would’ve felt some sort of shame by now, but given the current situation, you didn’t find much room to give a shit. 
You feel Price’s head move up slightly, and judging by the way he occasionally nods and sometimes moves his hands a bit, you can only assume that he’s having some sort of nonverbal conversation with Ghost right now. This conversation goes on for about a few minutes longer before you’ve managed to control your breathing a bit more. 
Price can tell, and he asks just for confirmation, “Is it alright if I clean your cuts now?” 
You nod and sniffle once before taking your head off of Price’s chest, looking down at your lap, simply holding out one of your blood-crusted arms to him. You can see Ghost stiffen up behind you almost immediately at the sight of it. 
Price grabs a cotton pad from the jar he was handed earlier, as well as the bottle of iodopovidone, and soaks the cotton pad with said iodopovidone. Once it’s soaked with the antiseptic solution, he hesitates before pressing it to your bloody arms. 
Almost immediately, you inhale a sharp breath and feel tears stinging your eyes again. 
“It’s okay,” Price tries to calm you down, seeing the tears forming in your eyes again, “You’re okay.” 
You sniffle and shift on the bed, trying to blink away tears that threaten to spill over your water line. Ghost, sitting by your side, puts a gloved hand over your shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your shoulder. His eyes twitch as you bite the inside of your cheek to muffle another sob while Price presses another Betadine-infused cotton pad to your self-induced wounds, and although you can barely see him, out of the corner of your eye, you still catch the glint of new tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he watches you. 
Gaz slips back through the curtains in front of the bed, this time with Soap in tow, and hands a skin stapler to Price. Seeing the skin stapler, something you used fairly often—often enough that the others knew how it worked and how to use it—automatically made your stomach turn.
“Told ye I’d come back for ye,” Soap murmurs, kneeling down to get about eye-level with you. You huff out the smallest laugh at his words and he gives you a small smile that makes you want to go lock yourself in a room with a scalpel and repeat what you’d done earlier all over again, his empathetic expression paining you more than taking a blade to your arm.
As a matter of fact, the expressions that you wish were pity coming from everyone around you hurts more than anything you could’ve ever done to yourself. Their concern was so unexpected—not that you don’t think they care, but you never thought they cared this much. You didn’t think that, if caught in the act, you would receive empathetic looks and solemn smiles, rather thinking that you would receive reprimanding. That you’d be punished for punishing yourself. 
Price thanks Gaz silently with the curt nod of his head before turning back to you with a solemn expression that in all honesty makes you more guilty and disappointed with yourself than before. He holds the skin stapler like he would a hot glue gun, looking down at the open wounds in front of him, and holds your forearm closer to him so he can see the edges of the cuts better. 
"Keep your arm like that," He murmurs, to which you respond with a nod and stiffening your arm so that it stays in the air where Price positioned it. He uses his now free hand to gently pull the edges of the cut you'd made closer together, aligning them the best he can before pressing the metal staple dispenser to the cut and pushing down on the trigger, stapling the two edges together with a click. 
He holds it down for an extra second before releasing and pulling the stapler away from your skin, and although the process only took around three seconds, you'd never get used to the feeling of getting your skin stapled. You make a small, pained noise that has Soap wincing as well--as though he can feel it too--and Price looking more solemn than earlier. 
“Finished with this one,” Price mutters as you swallow down another sob, holding his calloused-but-soft hand out for you to put your other forearm in. You do just that, nearly breaking into a fit of new sobs at the small ‘thank you’ Price utters. 
You watch Price soak another cotton pad with iodopovidone with his free hand and suck in a deep breath as he presses it to your forearm, the originally white cotton pad almost immediately going red. Tears spill over your waterline and roll down your cheeks as he continues to clean and disinfect your wounds, and before you can move your free hand to wipe them away, Ghost does so for you, his rough gloved hand swiping below your eyes quickly. 
You mumble a small 'thank you' that's barely even audible, sniffling as you can’t help but lean forward the tiniest bit into Ghost’s hand as it lingers on your cheek. He pauses, keeping it there for a second, before bringing that same hand up to the crown of your head and pushing gently on it to urge you to lean your head back. You do so, the back of your head quickly making contact with his Adam’s apple and the top of your head becoming tucked underneath his chin. 
His hand goes back down to your shoulder and continues its ministrations of rubbing small circles into said shoulder, bringing you intermittent moments of comfort throughout the painful wound cleaning you had to endure. 
Soap keeps a comforting hand on your knee as he’s kneeled down in front of you, his thumb occasionally copying Ghost’s, but otherwise remaining still on your knee, careful not to force you through too many different sensations at once. 
Gaz watches you from by the curtain, seeming not to do and looking completely lost. He stands there for another moment, watching the others, seeing what they’re doing for a second, before giving Ghost a ‘one moment’ signal by holding up his index finger and stepping out of the curtain-surrounded area.
Right after he does, another painful sting shoots up your nerves from your forearm, and you make the mistake of looking down at it. 
Wounds that only fifteen minutes ago had brought you to a calmer state of mind and were nothing more than incisions made by the scalpel you’d used to cut other people for entirely different reasons now almost hurt to look at. Once you could’ve compared them to marks left by wild animals, and you could’ve described them as though they were trophies, but now, as you stare down at them being cleaned by your own captain, they look nothing like the sort. 
They don’t look like any of the pretty descriptions you’d given them. They don’t look like cat scratches you’d gotten in an accident, or like something you would get out of a fight with a bear—they don’t make you look strong and brave like you thought they did. 
They look like tally marks. Sanguineous, gruesome tally marks, made by you, like you’d been counting down the days—or seconds, minutes, hours—until you’d had enough. Until you’d had enough of just carving your skin with medical equipment, and needed something more. Craved something more. 
Price must notice you staring down at the wounds, because he pauses in his movements to clean them for a moment, the sudden stopping of the stinging sensation the iodopovidone-soaked cotton making you shiver. You look up at him, and see him already looking down at you, concerned. 
“You’re thinking about something,” He points out softly, “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.” 
You hesitate and look back down at your arm that Price had stopped cleaning, before mumbling, “Just thinking about how these are gonna scar.” It’s not entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either. 
Price tilts his head to the side a bit, questioningly, “Do you know how they’re gonna scar?” 
“Well, when you work in the medical field for a bit, it gets easier to tell.”
You can tell he wants to ask how they’re gonna scar, so you decide to just say, “They’re all about one-and-a-half to two inches deep, so they’ll heal fully and then scar in a few months. Once they do, they’ll be visible, but not too prominent. The scarring tissue will stick above the skin a little bit, and it’ll make it look a little bit puffy.” 
“Alright,” Price hums, tone neutral, “So they’ll be… visible.” 
He sounds disgusted, A voice in the forefront of your mind insists, while one from the back of your mind tries to tell you, You have no way of knowing that, just see where the conversation goes. He has no reason to be disgusted with you.
“Yeah.” 
“Okay then,” Price sets the cotton pad down and grabs the skin stapler he’d been using earlier, “And it’ll take a few months to heal, you said?” 
“Several months, yeah.” Price considers this for a moment, pausing in his movements to hold the stapler to your skin. 
“Do you think you’ll need any help re-wrapping the bandages while they heal?” He inquires, resuming his movements after asking the question. 
“…” You think for a moment, Will you?, and after a few seconds, hesitantly, you reply, “… Yeah.” 
“M’kay,” Price hums softly, neutrally. “And would you want me to be the one who does it?” 
You think for another few minutes. Preferably, you’d be doing them yourself, but you didn’t trust yourself enough for that—so getting one of them to do it for you is your next best option. You wouldn’t mind if it was Price doing it, but at the same time, you wouldn’t mind if Ghost, Gaz, or Soap did it either. 
“It doesn’t matter,” You settle on, before tacking on, “As long as it’s one of you four.” 
“Us ‘four’ being… ?” 
“You, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.” 
“Got it,” Price nods. You see Soap smile softly out of the corner of your eye before he quickly stops, trying to purse his lips into a line. He’s probably thinking that he shouldn’t be happy about that, You think, almost amused. You feel Ghost’s thumb stutter on your shoulder as well, before it starts back up normally. 
Your words affect them more than you thought they would. 
Breaking your train of thought, Price staples your skin with a muted click, making you wince. 
It’s silent for a few more moments before Gaz finally comes back, now out of breath and carrying a bar of chocolate. He hands you the chocolate bar and says, panting, “I almost had to spar someone for that. Why do you have to like the chocolate one of the other fuckin’ Lieutenants do?” 
You take the chocolate bar with your free hand gingerly and blink at it for a few moments before setting it down next to you. 
“Nobody told you to get it,” You shrug, before tacking on, “Thank you, though.” 
“Uh-huh, yeah, totally, hey so uh—” He looks at Soap and jabs his thumb towards where the door would be behind the curtains, “We’re both needed somewhere else. Again. They said they forgot something… again.” 
“Worst fucking timing ever,” Soap grumbles, before clearing his throat and standing up, looking down at you, “Right, I’ll check in on ye later, and help ye wi’ anything ye need me tae, aye? I’ll come wi’ mair chocolate than Gaz did, ‘cause I’m better than him.” 
“Got it,” You smile up at him, making him grin back and pat you on the shoulder Ghost’s hand isn’t occupying, before heading out with Gaz. 
Then, you’re left with Ghost and Price. 
“I should get going too,” Ghost mutters, slowly taking his hand off of your shoulder and gently pushing your head back off of his chest, almost regrettably. 
“M’kay,” You watch as he gets up and hesitates, looking like he’s about to give you a hug, before he decides to instead give you a simple head nod and head out the same way the two other operators did. 
And then, it was just you and Price.
It’s silent for a bit, until Price speaks up.
“You think a lot,” Price comments, finishing up the last staple. 
“Does that surprise you?” 
“A little bit, yeah.” 
You pause for a moment before sighing through your nose, “It’s nothing. Just the same stuff I was thinking about before.” 
“Wanna give me some more detail than that?” 
“Not really, no,” You admit, letting your hand fall into your lap as Price lets go of it, “But I have a feeling you’re gonna want me to tell you.” 
“I do.” 
“It’s just something stupid, like earlier—” 
“That wasn’t stupid, [c/n], that was you hurting.” 
“I— I know. It’s just that this is actually stupid.” 
“Well, tell me what it is, and I’ll be the judge of that.” 
You think about how to phrase it in simple terms for a moment, before finally speaking, “I used to think that the scars sort of… symbolized how I was able to control myself and my emotions, and that made me feel…” You can’t think of any synonyms to make the simple words you want to say sound less childish, so you’re forced to say, “… brave. And strong. I just— I thought it showed that I was good at controlling my emotions and stuff, for some reason. But now I’m questioning all of that.” 
“You’re very brave,” Price reassures you, and God, it sounds like he’s reassuring a child, “And you’re so strong. But this… this isn’t how you show that. This—cutting yourself—doesn’t make you either of those things. It doesn’t show that you’re either of those things. It shows that you need help.” 
“But you just said that I was strong.” 
“I did.” 
“… Aren’t you contradicting yourself?”
“How would I be contradicting myself?” Price asks. 
“You said that me— me… harming myself shows that I need help.” 
“It does,” Price hums, and at your confused expression, he continues, “You needing help doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. Needing help and being strong aren’t connected like that.” 
You open your mouth to argue but you close it, not knowing what to say. Price sees this and smiles knowingly, simply grabbing your hand to squeeze it once before getting up. 
“I’ll check in on you later, okay? I need to get some stuff done, but as soon as I can, I’ll be back to keep you company. Or I’ll send someone else over—whichever you prefer.” 
“M’kay,” You mumble, squeezing Price’s hand back before letting go. “You can do whatever. I don’t mind either one.” 
“Sounds good.” Price pauses for a moment before leaning down and giving you a quick hug, and then beginning to slip past the curtains blocking any outsider's view of the bed you were sat on.
Before he can leave, you quickly say, "Thank you. For the wound-cleaning-thing."
He pauses at the curtain for a second, before smiling and replying, "You're welcome."
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for those curious, the bthb card so far:
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454 notes · View notes
dante-mightdie · 6 months
Note
Trailing off of dragon!price, princess!reader, and knight!gaz, why not add blacksmith!soap, and bandit!ghost ;))
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Blacksmith!soap gets snatched by price the second he sees how beautiful his delicate metal works are, already daydreaming of his little pets in nothing but thin chains worth more than the average cost of a fine-breed horse,
Soap trys his hardest to fight against the territorial dragon, but once price decides he like something it's his, and he never lets go of what he instinctively knows is only his possession ;)
Bandit!Ghost and absolute thrill seeker of a theif, has stolen from the so called impossible, and Price's treasure is his next target and easy win, or so he thinks,
He gets rather far, filling a rough linen sack with valuables thousands of years old, and he almost gets away with it except for one small mistake, he spookes pretty princess reader and though he immediately muffled their growls and yells with a burly hand, the sound you did let out is enough to send price hot on your tail, and just like the rest ghost is scooped up unwillingly into the fold of price's wing like a mangy stray.
And believe me Ghost bites and thrashes trying every trick in the book, but price likes the sad/angry puppy look in his eyes and once again has picked up another stray for his hoard,
The first time all of price's hoard fuck together is during price's rut when he's absolutely insatiable and without tagging each other out, a couple of them woul definitely get severe dehydration among other things, not too say they all aren't a bunch of submissive puddles after being used by price,
All passed out in Price's warm silk nest, tucked under his wing, this is when price knows he's picked the perfect little pets to entertain him :))
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Much love Sin <3
(p.s. praying Tumblr just ate the other puppy req I send in, and if you were in anyway uncomfortable with it don't hesitate to send me a dm about it :P)
not lost i just wanted didn't check my inbox until i finished work :)
content warning: dub-con, smut
price getting johnny to make pretty swords for his pretty knight! dull, of course. can't risk one of his pets hurting themselves!
gets you all matching velvet pillows so you dont scuff your knees when you kneel at his feet. makes him feel powerful. makes him feel in charge
and he is in charge, believe you me. only he could bring 3 big strong and a spoilt princess to their knees. turn them into moaning messes as he overstimulates them. soft rumbling purrs filling the dense cave when he reduces you to a whimpering puddle as you snuggle into him, desperate for aftercare from this grumpy ol' dragon...
I think he'd have a temper. start destroying things from his stash when one of you pisses him off, yelling at you and huffing fire from his nose whilst you and the rest of his hoard cower from him in the corner :(
it is nice having the boys around. it was dreadfully boring in the cave whenever price would go into hibernation, leaving you all alone to snoop through his belongings to find things to keep you busy
but now you have your boys to keep you entertained :) passing you around and taking their turn with you. simon wasting no time in throwing the pretty village princess onto her knees and having his way with you
his hard, thick cock drilling into your sopping hole, stretching you open as you squeal and bite down on your pillow to avoid waking price. listening to him tell you how he can't wait to escape this dragon and tell everyone that the village princess is really the village whore :(
soap goes next, telling himself that there's no reason why he shouldn't get to have his turn next. except he's a little nicer than simon, kneeling between your legs and lapping at your sore cunt :( spitting on it to keep you nice and wet as he slips his cock in you
fucking simon's load back inside your cunt and making the sloppy sound of him drilling into you echo throughout the cave, slinging your legs over his shoulder and forcing you into a mating-press
and lovely gaz :( who feels so bad about defiling the princess he swore to rescue but you just looked so pretty creaming around soap and simon's cock, tears slipping down your cheeks as you cum for the millionth time :(
goes in with the guise of comforting you before slipping his fingers down to drag between your sopping folds. kissing your forehead and cooing at you as he sits you on his cock, grabbing your hips and bouncing you in his lap
shushing you when price stirs in his slumber due to your loud squeals and cries. dumping another load in you before dropping you down next to price, letting the older man wrap his wings around you as he snores soundly <3
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sh0tanzz · 4 months
Note
ACKK, do more members as bfs with astrology for riize pls !!!
glad I got this asks bc I can now gloat about my man 😛
sungchan as your boyfriend based on astrology !
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(reminder that this for fun and astrology is something I study for a hobby, these are all inferences based off of observations and not exact fact unless I knew him myself !!)
warnings: small mention of sexual innuendo but nothing extremely graphic I'll only do NSFW asks if requested.
I am so in love with his chart.
Virgo Sun: A common trait I see in Virgo suns/risings is that they truly want to be the best optimal versions of themself. They are always finding ways to improve themselves or look/be their best whether its physically or mentally. (This may explain why many virgo sun/rising male idols are into working out, health or self help books. Sungchans interested in all 3 btw😭) But these traits would probably amp up when he's with you, he wouldn't want to slack when it came to his looks or personhood when with you especially since he has so many placements hinting at wanting to seem his best for you. Would want nothing more but to feel appreciated and valued and would give the same to you. He'd help you with relatively anything even if he didn't know much about the task or topic. He'd also ask you a lot of questions (not as much as a virgo mercury would but..) he'd be very interested in quite literally anything you had going on and would try to relate and insert himself in the things you speak about due to his venus.
Cancer Moon: Cancer is at home when it's in the moon so most people with this placement can be very emotional. He'd have to become close to you before fully pursuing anything. He would care about your opinions and validate your feelings. He'd showcase his domestic chore abilities so you'd view him as reliable. Downside is cancer moons have a hard time letting go of hurts so if you accidentally made him feel a type of way he may have a hard time fully letting go. Pretty sensitive to criticism. Would like comfort activities, a bath, a night swim at the beach, watching nostalgic movies, comfort food. I feel like he tries to be all macho and masc when really his emotional subconscious says otherwise 😭
Libra Mercury: Sungchan is his name and flirting is his game. He quite LITERALLY would know what to say to make you giggle and kick your feet. Would probably send goodmorning/night text (With his Leo Venus and Cancer Moon please send one back). Honestly his Virgo sun paired with this Libra mercury makes me feel like he'd gossip like crazyyyy with you. However his Sun and Mercury paired makes me feel like he'd overthink and be indecisive and have to confide in you about his thoughts. Would be good at calming you down and helping you level out your thoughts when you're upset or in a tense situation.
Leo Venus: With his Venus in Leo he'd most definitely brag about you. Even if the relationship had to be kept under wraps he'd soft launch or hint at your existence to others whether it's through wearing something -you- bought him publicly or if staff asked about his week he'd say "I spent time with a REALL GOOD friend of mine". With his virgo sun paired with his leo venus he'd absolutely need praise, it wouldn't just be a want it'd be a NEED for him to hear you compliment+praise him especially on his talents. Honestly the proudness from his venus, the provider energy from his mars..his chart overall points to him just wanting to please/spoil you whilst also getting praise, recognition and attention in return. He'd surprise you with gifts that aren't typical regular gifts they'd hold some heavy value to them (Like an expensive piece of jewelry or the last pair of a specific shoe you wanted that was on sale). The only downsides I see is that he may nag if he feels like you're not taking care of yourself or your business since his Venus makes him see you as an extension of himself and his Virgo sun and Capricorn mars relatively wanting structure and perfection for both you and him. All in all GIVE HIM ATTENTIONNNNNN.
Capricorn Mars: Whew tbh this placement is hot i'm sorry (It's the cap stellium in me.) BUT ANYWAY ! Before the relationship even began once he realized he liked you he had to make his way to you, even if it was a process he HAD to make his way to you. He'd observe you, see if you two seem compatible and once he sees a chance he'd surely make his way to the kill. I feel like this mars paired with his venus shows that he would NOT play about you. He'd quite literally want nobody else to even consider the thought that you could ever give them the attention or time you give him. Would want to be a "provider" in some sense even if you can take care of yourself. Capricorn rules the skeletal structure so he'd compliment and be super into your body's silhouette/shape, it also rules the teeth + skin (bitemarks, harsh hickies), and the knees + joints...let me not continue.
Other Aspects:
Moon/Sun Sextile: Very easygoing since his inner emotions and expression is balanced and in alignment with his ego and outer expression, however it may sometimes lead to him being a little too comfortable at times because confrontation is sometimes needed and he may avoid it (his cap mars may aid with that however)
Moon/Mercury Square: He may have a constant battle between being logical and letting his moods affect his choices and will look to you for help when his mind feels like it's constantly see-sawing, however he might pretend to be stoic before asking you for help :(
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strawb3rrystar · 7 months
Text
And In Love.
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Pairing: Bayverse! Raph x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Semi-public/fucking in the dojo, Marking, Blow-job, Fingering, Foreplay/Prepping, Size difference {Duh}, Implied first time, Lots of praise, Creampie
Word count: 700+
Based on this request | Part 1 / Part 2
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"Raph, you've been training for three hours. Don't you think it's enough?" You tilt your head, your fingers playing with the hem of his towel. He grunts, laying another punch to the punching bag. You sigh, leaning against the wall after being ignored by your boyfriend of six months. You were feeling attention-starved, Raph was training more and hanging out with you less. You set down his towel, turning to leave the dojo before a large green hand slams against the wall.
"Where are you going, princess?" He asks, sweat clear on his skin. His voice, his tone, the way his muscles flexed in front of your face. All of it made your heart flutter, even more than it already did when you were near him.
"I was going to see if Donnie needed any help." You explain, your face feeling suddenly hot. He narrows his eyes, looking you up and down. "Why?" His voice is gruff, clearly commanding you to 'sit your ass down before I make you' without saying it.
"Well clearly you're busy, and I don't want to interrupt." You reply, feeling his stare burn into your skull. He easily picks you up, slinging you over his shoulder. He turns around, setting you back down on the ground.
"We're going to spar." Your eyes widen in surprise a small 'what' escaping your lips. He gestures to you to come at him, not getting into a fighting stance. You lightly hit him, even though you knew you could never actually physically hurt him. You still didn't want to try.
"Interrupt me whenever you want." He says, making you realize why you were doing this. You watch him sit on the dojo floor "And that's final, I'm not arguing with you." He grabs you by the waist, pulling you into his lap. He kisses your cheek, your chest pressed up against his plastron. "Aren't I a distraction?" You ask, he squeezes your hips, kissing up your neck. "The best damm one," He mumbles into your neck.
"Didn't Leo say to limit yourself of all distractions?" You question, making him bite your shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but it definitely left a mark. "Leo can go fuck himself," Raph grumbles, squeezing your hips again.
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡
Raph watched your delicate hands work themselves around his cock, your pretty tongue swirling around his cock head. He pushed your head down on his cock, his tip just barely being able to reach the back of your throat because of how thick he was. Fat globs of tears rolled down your cheeks from the pain in your jaw.
His thumb gently caressed your cheek, wiping away the tears. Pulling your head away from his cock, Raph grabs the hem of your waistband. He pulls down your shorts, then cups your ass.
"I'm gonna fill that pretty pussy of yours." He practically rips off your underwear, running his finger through your folds. Your slick coat his finger, making it easy to slide right into your entrance. You bury your face in his neck as his large finger reaches knuckle deep in your cunt. He could easily reach your G-spot, your walls practically throbbing from pleasure. You feel his finger leave your warmth, being replaced with the head of his cock.
"You ready, princess?" He kisses your shoulder. You nod your head, breath shaky as your heart beats quickly. A whimper escapes your lips as your pussy stretches to accommodate his size. It doesn't take more than five minutes for him to bottom out. His cock reaching well past your cervix.
"You're takin' me so well, sunshine." Raph holds onto your hips tightly, moving you up and down his length. Your soft mewls and whines fill the dojo as you claw at his shoulders. He holds onto you as if you would disappear if he didn't. Hushing you to stay quiet. He whispers sweet things to you, picking up the pace. Your eyes roll back as the knot in your stomach quickly starts to come undone. Tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks as you moan his name.
"You want me to cum your pretty cunt, princess?" He asks, his breath heavy from arousal. You nod your head rapidly, your thoughts clouded with lust. Your legs shake as you come undone on his length, feeling him twitch inside of you. Raph pushes you down on his cock fully, filling your womb with his cum. "I love you, sunshine," He hugs you tightly, kissing away your tears.
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Star's notes -> Had my doubts about this one, so I hope you guys like it. Also, this is my first time writing a two-part story.
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Taglist -> @raphaelsqueen @mamaemoemu @sleebykei @thejudiciousneurotic | Join the taglist
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myymi · 4 months
Text
“Look. Yer new here, I get it.” Sails grumbled, his mechanical arm resting on the hedgehog’s chest to force him to keep his distance, “But you need to learn our rules and fast.” He growled, eyes narrowing into a glare.
Sonic tried to keep his body from visibly wilting at the rejection. He wasn't used to being pushed away by his little brother, and it seemed to hurt worse the second time around.
Except they aren't his little brother, are they? Nine and Sails don't know him. They shouldn't trust him. But he needs them to. Sonic needs his brother(s?) to trust him to keep them safe, why won't they let him protect them?
That's his job, isn't it? He has to keep them safe from those who are hunting them or whatever awful thoughts are plaguing them. What good is protecting the world when he can't protect his world?
“Whaddya mean?” He decided to ask, firmly ignoring the way his voice wavered even after the fox in front of him raised a brow at it.
“I mean quit stickin’ yer nose where it don't belong.” Sonic tried to ignore the fact that only one of the pirate's ears folded down as he crossed his arms, shrinking into himself. “My tale ain't your business, so quit poking.”
“I didn't mean to offend you or anything,” Sonic said, raising his paws in surrender. He'd never want to push his brother to talk about something he didn't want to. Why didn't he just drop it? “I was just worried, y’know?”
“Don't worry over strangers, landlubber.” Sails warned, his metal arm retreating from the teens chest as he averted his gaze, “it'll only make things harder for ya.” He mumbled, almost too quiet for the other to hear.
“But you're not a stranger, Sails.” The older argued, watching the fox’s movements, “I know everything about you!”
“No, you don't.” The kit frowned, his fur bristling, “If ye did, ye wouldn't be here askin’ questions about a life that doesn't concern you.” Was the last thing he said before turning away from the hedgehog, quickly making his way to somewhere on the boat that wasn't near him.
Sonic's ears flattened against his head as he watched Sails walk away, his left paw holding his right arm in an absolute death grip. He groaned and ran his paws down his face.
This was his own fault.
He's always been one to preach about boundaries. He remembers he used to have to remind a 4 year old Tails quite often that sometimes people just didn't want to talk about or do certain things and that was okay.
So why didn't he keep his big, stupid mouth shut when he saw Sails start to pull away?
Sure, Sails wasn't technically Tails, but they had the same mannerisms. His tails twirling around themselves to appear as a single appendage, his eyes looking down to stare at his crossed arms, his fur proofing up, and his foot tapping against the ground were all signs that someone was pushing him too far. Sonic knew that, yet he wouldn't stop pushing.
Maybe it was the desperation to understand this two tailed fox. Because he wasn't his fox, but he was so close he might as well be his doppelganger. Yet the teenager didn't actually know him.
But he wanted to. He wanted to show the kit that he was the one the kid should trust. He wanted to prove to Sails that he was a free shoulder to lean on if he needed it.
A big brother who would always have his arms open, waiting to comfort the fox should he need it.
It was a need for the hedgehog. He so desperately needed his little brother to understand he was always here that he forgot that Sails wasn't his brother. Not in those blue eyes, anyway.
To Sails, Sonic was a stranger. He was just some guy they found on an island who begged to be let aboard their ship. They had only met a few hours ago.
He was, understandably, overwhelmed by the hedgehog. It seemed like the stranger knew almost everything about his life, except for one key detail; Sonic didn't exist in it.
And that's exactly what made Sonic keep pushing. He wasn't a part of Sails’ life, but he wanted to be. Because he knows what Tails’ life was like before meeting the hedgehog, and he needed to make sure Sails was safe.
Nine wasn't.
Mangey wasn't.
There had to be at least one variant of his little brother that was okay. The kid's safety couldn't only rely on Sonic, surely there had to be one of them that got off easy.
But he guesses that was just another assumption he was wrong about.
“Landlubber!” Sonic's ears twitched at that, swiveling around until they located the direction the shout came from. He turned around to see Batten flying above him.
“What’d ye say to Sails?” She asked, one hand resting on her hip as the other held the hilt of her sword. The bat nodded her head up towards the crow’s nest.
Squinting, Sonic could see Sails was leaning against the banister, his head hung low.
The hedgehog winced and rubbed the back of his neck, “I kinda pushed him about something I shouldn't have.” He admitted, ears folding down against his head. “Do you know how I can make that up to him?”
Batten’s frown deepened as she glanced up to the fox for a brief moment, “Don't do anything. He'll sort it out on his own.” She advised, lowering herself down to land beside the hedgehog. “And don't bring the topic back up again. Ever.”
“Noted.” Sonic tried to smile, but it was very obviously strained. He sighed and looked away from the fox, not wanting to be caught staring.
He wasn't used to leaving Tails alone. When the fox was upset he would always bring him a gift to make up for whatever it was he did.
But maybe it's time to stop treating these two tailed foxes like they're his little brother. It never seemed to work out in his favor.
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mangywayway · 2 months
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SOOOO, I have a small "fandom wank" that's bothering me and I want to talk about it. Considering the doddle I attached to it you can already image what is this about and I'll not be surprised if a lot of people may not agree but eh, il mondo è bello perché è vario quindi.
I also understand that I'm just "recently" came back to the Harringrove fandom but eh, you can still skip this rant and be on your way if you aren't interested about what I'm saying so
You know, I have seen a various post about "how Billy should be drawn" and "why people use this color instead of this etc" and honestly? WHO FUCKIN CARES.
Is Billy your OC? No, it's not. We can love him as much as we want but he'll never be, let's be honest. Have you commissioned an artist to draw him in a specific way? No? Is this about an AU that you created? No? Then mind your how fucking business jeez. Everyone has their own style, and not everyone wants to draw a character to be a copy of the actor who represents them. I see so many artists drawing characters in a way that's not a copy of the orig and they are still pretty recognisable, with their own strength and energy because of that. Mind you, there is absolutely nothing wrong in deciding to draw a character in a way that's more close to the original, but even taking that road there is no need to say, multiple times, that you don't agree/you don't understand why and how other people choose to draw said character.
Everyone has their own vision of a character, a lot of artists tend to put part of THEMSELVES (literally) in those drawings and that's why they may be different from the original and that's what it makes it beautiful. Also, with all the love, he doesn't exist. He's a fictional character. I can draw him with fuckin fluo hair just because I can/want and nobody is going to get hurt for that. Draw him younger, draw him older, draw him in a completely different setting and style, WHO FUCKIN CARES. Just let ppl have fucking fun, that's what fandoms are made for ✌🏻
(I know this may seems random but stuff like this really gets on my nerves and I really wanted to let this out. That's said, do what the fuck you want and let other people do what the fuck they want with their drawings. And writings too, because honestly this applies to both)
Peace and love 🫶🏻✨
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ink4blotches · 11 months
Note
Pavitr x reader where he’s his usual cheerful self but as soon as someone threatens/harms the reader he gets pissed and dangerous 👀
Ofc anon ;)), sorry it took so long I was watering my oven :(...but it's here now!
Synopsis/Feels: Reader is a waiter and on break but crusty middle aged man doesn't believe in breaks for workers apparently, Pav get a bit angry, slight mention of injury and fighting, Gender Neutral Reader, slight mentions of tea, yippeee...
Word Ct.:672
And without further ado...here we go!
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Terrible Waiter(Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader)
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"Oh, Jeez...you reminded the teacher of homework? No wonder the class doesn't like you!" I laugh at my ridiculous boyfriend while he gasps in offense.
"Hey, in my defense I worked really hard on that homework." He sighs, taking a sip of his tea.
"Yeah but half the people in your class didn't..." I remind him with a small laugh as I take a bite of my cookie.
Right now we're in the cafe I work at. Pav came in earlier and as soon as my break hit I joined him.
We go to different schools, so he likes to catch me up on why he's so...disliked in his class.
"They have nobody to blame but themselves." Pav shrugs, sending me a small grin. "At least I got a hundred!" We both laugh lightly.
"Oh, and another thing-." He starts but then a hand places itself on our table.
"Excuse me, can you take my order already?" I look up to see an interesting individual staring at me with an annoyed look.
Oh, right. I'm still in my uniform.
"Oh, sorry no. I'm actually-."
"You're a waiter aren't you? Just take my order. I swear the service here is awful..." The man rolls his eyes.
Pav gives me a look and I shake my head slightly at him.
"Yes but as I was saying I'm actually on my break right now, so if you wanna go to the counter they can help you over there." I smile awkwardly.
"I swear...listen, I'm in a rush and the line is way too long. All I want is a chicken salad!" The man shakes his hands in the air.
"Great and you'll have to order that chicken salad at the counter." I remind him with a slight shift in annoyedness.
"Listen, just go get me the chicken salad or else-." He moves to put his hand on my shoulder as he talks, but Pav speaks up.
"Or else what?" He asks with a slight eyebrow raise. "Wha- this is none of your business kid." The older man speaks, rolling his eyes.
"You're about to put your hands on my partner. So yes, it is my business." Pav states as he stands up from his seat.
"Kid's a waiter, the least they can do is make me a damn salad! I swear, where are our taxes going?" The scruffy looking man starts ranting about taxes.
"I can't say I care about your salad. Just a heads up. If you try to put your hands on my partner again, I'll make you regret it." Pav warns.
Meanwhile I'm the only one still sitting in my chair. Customers are starting to look at us.
Embarrassing...
The man ignores Pav, placing a hand on my shoulder harshly.
Pav raises an eyebrow.
BAM!
"Owww...don't touch me there, it hurts." Pav sucks in through his teeth.
"I wouldn't have to touch you there if you didn't get into a fight with a man twice your size." I remind him, making sure it hurts when I apply medicine to one of the cuts on his stomach.
"It wasn't a fight." Pav tries to interject.
"Yeah, tell that to the table you smashed his head into." I scoff.
"Hey, on the bright side now you can say two men have fought over you." Pav chuckles. I try to hide my laugh.
"I see you trying not to laugh you goof." Pav smirks.
I reach over and hit his arm.
"It's not funny, you could've been arrested!" I tell him between giggles.
"It'd be worth it for you." He smiles at me.
I grab a bandage, sticking it to one of his bruises and pressing down to make sure it hurt.
"Ow!" He complains, nudging me back.
"Remember that pain next time you get into a fight, dumbass." I roll my eyes.
"I've remembered that pain a lot more than you'd think." Pav whispers, rolling his eyes slightly.
"What was that?" I ask.
"Nothing! Did I mention I love you?"
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TAGLIST: @ihearthxh @sweetheartlizzie07 @the-vulcan
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thehusbandoden · 10 months
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You Flinch During an Argument -Hawks
My confidence for this series is like at a 2 outta 10 but I can't really take it back now sooo ig I'll just continue to write. I hope someone's enjoying it </3
Hurt to Comfort | 1,097 words
Warnings!: Mentions of arguing, flinching, mention of someone beating up on themselves (Hawks), Hawks' name used. Let me know if I miss any <3
Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi
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Gif credit: @tatakaeeren
His heart will stop as soon as he sees you recoiling from him.
He was planning on simply taking your hand to ground you both.
He'll softly ask if you're okay and what you need from him.
You need him to leave you alone? Sure thing, he'll be busy cussing himself out in the kitchen- doing those stupid dishes the argument started.
Want comfort? Don't worry, he'll hold you for hours upon hours, accomanying each peck with a soft apology.
He'll get very upset with himself and will be very reserved and somewhat cold for the next week or so.
He keeps thinking back to that one movement from you.
And no matter what he was planning on doing and how you said that you knew he wasn't going to hurt you, he can't get the idea that you flinched because of him out of his head.
You finally have enough when he leaves for a mission and only gives you a peck on the lips, no extra cuddles, kisses, hugs, compliments, or tickle fights the entire week he was preparing to leave.
Right as he was saying his goodbye his eyes were as cold as ever, holding no liveliness in the honey depths.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" You pout, crossing your arms across your chest.
And that was quite normal for the two of you.
He would chuckle and swoop you in his winged embrace, kissing your lips before inhaling the scent of your shampoo, kissing your forehead as he did so. "I love you, and I miss you already", "You're so goregous.. don't find someone better when I'm gone, mkay?", "I cannot wait to see your smiling face when I get back" were some of the things he would whisper to you as he hugged you, mentally bracing himself for the long week or more that he would be apart from you.
But now? All he did was glance around before giving you a negative response, informing you he had everything.
"A-aren't you going to kiss me?" You ask, emotions getting the best of you.
He then came and gave you a small, fleeting peck to the lips before heading out with another hushed 'goodbye'.
You then labored to figure out how to help him for the next three weeks, until he finally came home to you.
As Keigo's hand made its way towards you you recoiled back out of instinct, not fear. You would never fear your Keigo.
But did he know that?
Terror consumed Keigo as soon as he saw you flinch.. were you.. scared of him?
His heart beat faster against his chest as sweat protruded from his body... you were scared of him... he scared you.
Forcing himself to get a grip and focus on you, Keigo weakly asked, "Y-y/n... did you think I was going to hit you?"
You immedietly shook your head no, and made your way to him, one hand on his cheek. "No baby, I know you would never hit me. I don't know why I flinched, I guess it was just instinct. I'm not scared of you."
"O-oh.. well do you want me to leave you alone or.."
"I would love it if you would cuddle me. We can talk more later, right now we both just need one another." At that, Keigo nodded before making his way towards your shared bedroom, holding your hand in his trembling one.
Since then, Keigo has been a wreck.
He doesn't eat properly, he doesn't sleep properly, and he's not his usual chipper self. He's a lot more cold towards you, sitting on the other side of the living room instead of right next you, he does the dishes, laundry, vaccuming, and any other kind of chore you can think of without playfully bantering with you like usual, he avoids starting arguments, always just agreeing to whatever you were saying, and he hardly touches you.
If you want a kiss before he goes to work, you need to ask for one, and then you'll get a small peck on the lips, and sometimes just your forehead.
You want cuddles after having a nightmare? You're going to have to deal with you clinging onto him for comfort while he awkwardly rubs your shoulders.
He's miserable, punishing himself for a simple reaction from you.
~~
"I'm leaving y/n." Keigo called, picking up his bags and suitcase, entirely ready to leave.
"Wait! Wait!" You exclaim, dashing into the enterance way. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"I have everything needed for the trip." Keigo muttered, honey eyes cold.
As Keigo turned to leave your emotions went out of whack, Keigo is really messed up if he won't kiss you before a three week mission.
"C-can I get a kiss?" You ask quietly, emotions ready to leak any minute.
Keigo just walked towards you, pecking your lips once, before walking out of the door with a quick "goodbye".
As soon as the door closed you fell onto your knees, overcome with emotions. Your Keigo was truly broken. He hadn't even said 'I love you'.
~
Three weeks later Keigo came home, and you had a plan in mind. You would simply sit him down and have a talk with him, ask him what's bothering him, get him to talk, comfort him, and then reassure him. Then, things would be back to normal.
But that bird just had to ruin all of your hardwork.
As soon as Keigo stepped through the door he jumped on top of you, dropping the two of you onto the livingroom floor.
"K-Keigo?"
"Oh y/n I am so so sorry! I was so focussed on my worry about you that they sent me home and then I decided to go take a vacation and clear my head- and I realized how cold I've been to you! I didn't even give you a kiss- or, or say I love you- y/n I am so very very sorry." Keigo exclaimed, burying his face into your chest pitifully.
"Oh baby what changed? I was going to sit you down and make you talk it out unil you were normal again."
"I thought about it over and over again- and I realized that you're not acting scared of me. If you were you would be quiet and would want to stay away from me and not start those silly arguments you keep tryin' to pull." Keigo pouted, pecking your lips once he was done talking.
"Keigo.. you still haven't said it."
"Said wha- oh I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!~"
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oharabunny · 8 months
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His Cheating Allegations
Description: Going off of my yandere!caretaker!Miguel idea, here's what I think of him in regards to him cheating.
Word Count: 798
Warning: mentions of sex, cheating Miguel, OOC!Miguel, obsession, delusion, not beta read, completely self indulgent fantasies of the author
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He has a past of cheating, and he's not proud of it. But ever since he met you, he knew that he would move heaven and earth, the multiverse if you will, just for you. You are literally his whole universe.
He can't really look at other women (or anyone of any gender) the same anymore. Nobody quite compares to you.
You don't really see how because you're dysfunctional and useless to him. You wonder if he's seeing someone else in you.
He doesn't, because there aren't any variants of you across the multiverse.
But still, you think you're a dime a dozen as far as your personality and looks goes. And most people would agree with you.
Which is why it's a mystery how there are still some women that want to throw themselves at him even when he's busy ogling at you through his orange screens.
Maybe they thought they could compete with you.
(To you, they probably could. They'd be more intelligent, useful, witty, pretty, and hard working than you.)
What you and them don't know is that it is going to be a huge challenge to get him to cheat on you.
He's not necessarily infalliable, yes, he can fold, but under very certain circumstances.
Such as, if he was away from home for too long and cannot keep his pent up feelings to himself. He would need the other woman to face away from him, mask on, quiet, body shaped, and skin tone similiarly to yours in order to go through with it. He has to imagine you and your face in order to immerse himself with her.
Even then, it's still not the same and he knows, and realistically, he'll stop midway because it just won't feel as good.
On top of the fact he doesn't want to hurt you. He doesn't want to give you a reason to leave him.
(He would keep it a secret to himself to the day he dies.)
Which is why he's even more reluctant to cheat on you even if he does find someone else attractive because he has to make sure they're completely clean. He can't risk giving you a disease. You're a fragile and helpless being where anything can kill you. (Well, that's just what he thinks.) Your health and wellbeing is above all else.
Plus, he doesn't really have the time to cheat. He's too invested in both you and keeping the balance of the multiverse. You think he has time to go looking around?
Even the most persistent homewreckers will eventually tire out from their attempt to break his gaze on you.
Even the desperate ones.
Here's a scenario:
Other Woman: Miguel~ I'd do anything for you. Please, just give me a chance! I don't even mind being your second wife if I have to.
Miguel: Then would you be able to bear the responsibilities of taking care of my "first" wife above yourself? You'll need to take care of our children too. Fill in for me whenever I'm not home to take care of her. You have to understand that I will always put her, our children, her pets, and her belongings before you. That also means if she doesn't want me to touch you, I won't. Also, if you and I have children, they won't be your children anymore.
Also Miguel: Wait, if I let you take care of her, she might like you more than me and leave me. Nah, fuck that, I don't want you getting in between us.
Other Woman: Okay damn! You psycho! 😥
I don't think he'd do well in a poly relationship like a triad or separate relationship either. In a triad, he'd be threatened by them taking you or even you preferring them slightly more than him in any way. He has to be your number one and only. Even if the dynamics were in his favor, he's so so into you that he's very biased to give all his attention to you since sex for him is about pleasuring you. He wouldn't be a good partner for the third person if they value his attention and care too (they'd be cucked and forgotten most of the time💀). He also doesn't have the time to keep up with other relationships.
Back to the idea of him cheating on you, another way to increase his chances of cheating on you is if you consistently reject his advances and feelings for you. He might do it out of spite and sexual frustration, but he wouldn't find any joy in it especially when he realizes you don't care and you just want to leave. He'd be busy trying to manipulate you into depending on him.
Either way.
He is a you simp through and through.
A/N: This is super self indulgent as you can tell. This will never be who Miguel is canonically nor is it super realistic, but wishful thinking yknow? 🤷‍♀️
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