#take care and you always have my blessing

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #angst #grovel #jealousy

[readychilledwine]

Mine

Summary - Cassian always gets a little riled up when he gets to fight for your honor.

Warnings - Blood, smut, focus on reader and Cassian's differences physically, reader is thick because it felt right, oral (female receiving), Cassian going to pound town.

A/N - based on this post and our comments from @loneliestluvr I refuse to apologize for how quickly this became smut.

Being mated to the Lord of Bloodshed was never easy, especially as an illyrian female blessed to have found him before your wings were taken. “Sorry,” you whispered as he flinched. You had got to the cut on his eyebrow, wiping it down as gently as you could.

Cassian was covered in blood. A mix of his own and another male's who had not known you were claimed by the male sitting in front of you. “You okay?” He had his eyes shut as you took care of him, content under the feel of your soft hands.

“You're the one who ended up in a fight with 6 other males and walked away. I should be asking you that.” You gently reset and healed his nose, silently thanking the Mother for such a useful gift.

Everything about you two had been so perfectly planned. The skilled warrior. Loud, personable, quick on his feet. Then you, the talented healer. Intelligent, shy, soft spoken. You were balanced perfectly. A match truly made by the Gods. You continued wiping the blood from him, ensuring he would not have to change the water multiple times once you got him bathed and stepped away before offering him your hand.

It was another contrast between you two and Cassian's absolute favorite. Your soft manicured hands, his rough and calloused ones. He laced your fingers together, pretending to allow you to pull him up at he stood. “I'm fine, baby. You should see the other guys.” He smiled at his own joke, walking into the bathroom of the cabin. “Are you going to undress me too?”

“Absolutely.” You were graceful with buckle, each tie, gently pulling armor and fabric from his body until it sat on the vanity nearby. Habit took over as you folded it all, putting the clothing into baskets to be cleaned before turning back to the god in fae form behind you.

The moan Cassian released as he sunk into the warm water had your thighs clenching. You watched his head fall back as lavender scented steam came from the tub and as his shoulders fell in relaxation. “Can I wash your hair?” He groaned again at the thought, smiling as you sat behind him with the soap. “Need to show you my love and appreciation for protecting me.”

He gave a breathy laugh, shutting his eyes in bliss as you began massaging shampoo into his wavy locks. “I will always protect you, y/n. Always. You are mine.”

“I am,” he growled at your agreement, his need to possess you was high. Illyrians had always been more feral with their bonds, and you absolutely allowed him to enjoy the primal tendencies that came with it. “I will always be yours. In this life and the next.” You began rinsing his hair, ensuring every spec of blood and dirt was out before applying a deep conditioner.

“Lean forward so I can wash your back, Cassian.”

“I don't deserve you,” he was drifting off under your touch, enjoying the feeling of you kneading sore muscles as you lathered his scarred skin with a soft scented soap. “Could you get my wings?”

You leaned in, whispering in his ear. “I planned on getting them once I got you fully cleaned and the water changed.”

“Fuck that,” Cassian forced you over, pulling you in thin night gown and all before ripping it off of you. His lips were on yours and hungry. He was grabbing your hips, loving their plushy feel. “Want you now.”

“Cass, this water is disgusting.”

His head hit the tub with a thud. “Fine. Fine. It's fine.” He was, in fact, not fine. You could feel how hard he was. His length was pressing into your stomach. “I just need you. You know how I get when you take care of me.”

You were washing him again. Cleaning off his chest and face, scrubbing his arms. He was memorized by you by your body. He remembered learning about the Gods of old from Rhysand's mother, and you had to have been crafted by the goddess of love. It was another contrast. His rock-hard body, toned and cut from years of training. Your soft body, curves landing in all the right places, thighs so thick you genuinely worried when you sat on his face.

He lifted you with little effort when he knew he was clean, climbing out of the water with his lips attached to the point on your neck that drove you wild. “Done waiting,” he carried you to the bedroom, sucking that spot until he knew a deep purple mark would form.

He threw you down on the bed, not caring that it would soak the sheets and mattress as he watched your full breasts bounce. When he was like this, you knew you were in for a ride. Knew that headboard wouldn't be enough to keep you in place as he pounded into you over and over again, only content when he had ensured you were filled and would smell like him and sex for weeks. He was studying you like you were his prey, waiting to pounce at just the right time.

He found it as you shifted, laying down more on the pillows like the queen he knew you were. He did not bother kissing your lips again. Instead, it was him instantly pulling your legs over his shoulders and licking your already soaked core. Your hands shot to his hair, moans ripping through your throat. He was eager tonight. So damn eager.

“Cassian,” he hummed against you, looking up through hooded lust filled eyes. “Slow down.”

He shook his head, not even letting your clit out of his mouth as he did. “Baby, I'm going to cum if you don't go slower.” His brows shot up and a smirk formed. It spoke of every intention he had, you would not leave this bed, not without him carrying you.

Every flick of his tongue, every long drag, the soft kisses all had you melting further Into the mattress as your nerves came to life. Cassian was as calculated in bed as he was on a battlefield. Everything was precise, done with intention, and meant to fulfill his goal. His forearm went against your hips, locking you in place at his mercy.

He could feel every wave of pleasure from you shooting down that sacred and special bond. He could sense the moment you fell. Your fingers tightened on the sheets, your back arched, it was silence before the scream. Between your own pleasure, you could feel his pride leaking down the bond. Pride with how easily he could pull you apart with nothing more than his tongue. Pride over the way your body was so easily his.

He only pulled away when you began to whimper and push, but he was instantly crashing his lips on yours as he kicked off his pants. His forehead went to yours once you were both breathless. Those Hazel eyes you melted in the gaze of were feral and dark with desire. In one smooth motion with no warning, Cassian was inside of you with one single word, “Mine.”

There was no split second of calm before the storm, no moment to catch your breath after he took it from you. Cassian began to pound into you, hitting that perfect spot and making you see stars. Your nails dug into his chest, leaving small marks to join the littering scars and cuts from his earlier fight. “Mine,” the growl was deep, an ancient part of him almost begging for affirmation of the word.

“Yours,” you moaned out for him, back arching as your stomach tightened. “All yours.” Cassian's arm went across your back, hand roughly gripping your hips he could force you to move exactly how he wanted.

You could hardly breathe, mind lost to anything but Cassian. Your mate. Your everything. You could feel him down the bond, feel him getting closer with each squeeze and twitch of your walls. The room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the sound of his groans and you whispering and moaning his name like a prayer to some long forgotten God. “So fucking beautiful,” his free hand forced your head up, forcing you to watch as his cock slid in and out of your core, soaked in your essence. “Watch me fuck you. Watch me mark this pretty perfect pussy as mine.”

You couldn't help but to moan, feeling that edge approaching faster and faster with his. “Cassie.”

“Do it. Cum on my cock, baby.” He let you go limp below him, placing your head back on the pillows gently as he did. Wave after wave of need and pleasure washed over you, blinding your senses to anything but the feel of Cassian filling you as you Came around him. He fucked you through the high before finally finishing, not even bothering to pull out and opting to instead hold your hips so close to his you could not even tell where he began and you ended.

When he finally let you go, he barely caught himself before collapsing on top of you as his exhaustion hit him. You could help but place soft kissed along his face. His scarred brow and lip, his nose that you'd reset and healed so many times, his jaw. You finally sighed with one last lingering kiss directly on his full lips as he smiled. “That was faster than I hoped it would be.”

“Always is when you fuck me after fighting.”

“Always yours.”

He kissed your neck softly on the mark he made, whispering one last time. “Mine.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

#acotar #acotar x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian fic #cassian smut #cassian of illyria #lord of bloodshed

[deadsetobsessions]

Okay I got some sleep- here’s pt. 2 of my nightmare:

——

They spoke to each other as they moved, the surroundings that had egregiously attacked the group of heroes earlier easily parted way for his sister.

‘How has everything been, habibi?’

They talked to each other in a language known only to them. The rest of the Justice League team, the members of this mission: Batman, Flash, Superman, and Zatanna did not understand the signs, a feat worthy of his sister.

‘Alright. They are not bad. I like it here.’ He told her, eyes not quite wary but fear of disappointing her running through his small frame apparent all the same. ‘I would… like to stay.’

She ruffled his hair once more, wistfulness growing in her heart. How her little brother had grown. It seemed like yesterday she held him as a babe, swaddled in even more opulent green and gold silks than her own clothing. Now, he stood in front of her, daring to express his own thoughts with a domino over his face and strength of free will in his eyes. ‘That is good. I am glad you are happy.’

Batman lurched forward to stop her from touching Damian, only to freeze as his son accepted the touch without a hint of resistance. Even Dick couldn’t get that reaction, not without some grumbling and scowling. Who was this…?

The rest of team agreed to wait and watch. Part of it was strategy. Most of it was the wonder of a such Bat-like Robin being so open with someone.

‘Have you been here before?’ Damian, relaxed as she all but gave him her blessing to stay with father, peered at the local fauna as it bowed away from her sister. She shrugged, his katana sheathed on her back. She was at ease with it as he was with her blade, the training they did to get there unwavering despite the time they spent apart.

‘Sometimes. The tower we’re headed to, I often go there to relieve stress by training with the monsters there. They like to… attack everything that moves.’

Something told Damian it was more of a one sided massacre on his sister’s part.

‘Why would the magician hide there?’

‘It would serve adequately as a natural barrier, should he have a safe space put there ahead of time.’ His sister tilted her head, masked face still in the way he knew meant that she was thinking. Her hands moved. ‘Perhaps it was Grorgiantue that attacked you. He often goes there to experiment with alchemy and demonic remains. He often wears a maroon headband.’

“That’s him.” Damian confirmed.

“Are you going to clue us into what you’re saying, you two?” The Flash zoomed around the pair, skidding to a stop in front of them. Damian’s sister simply stepped around him, slicing apart a thorn bush that attacked when it got startled by the Flash’s speed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Robin scowled at him and the unknown ally spared him one quick, neutral glance of displeasure.

“No. Do not ask again, you eavesdropper.” Damian curtly replied, surly Robin mask back up.

“Robin.” Father reprimanded. Damian acknowledged it, but did not offer an apology. His sister remained silent and watching.

She’s relying on him to navigate these allies, Damian realized. His shoulders went back at the show of trust. He does not acquiesce to Father’s silent command. Had it been Richard… perhaps.

“Ouch, but still, if your… friend knows what’s up ahead, it’s be good to let us know.”

“We do need to take care of this as fast as possible, Robin. And we’re not the best team against magic.” Superman hovered. He would have gone and scouted ahead, but magical planes always had nasty surprises that he found extremely hard to escape.

“Speak for yourself,” Zatanna joked. Regardless, she looked askance at Damian’s sister.

Damian scowled and opened his mouth. His sister placed a hand on his shoulder and Damian sighed, readying himself to act as a translator. He knew she could sign in practically every standard sign language there was, damn it. She’s lucky he loved her enough to be a translator when she’s unwilling to socialize.

——

“Your sword,” Damian tried to hand her sword back. Her little brother, for a genius, was an idiot. She huffed, pushing the sword back.

‘Keep it. How will you cut through a magical tower without a magical sword?’ She signed to him, emphasizing her amusement.

“What about you?”

‘I must report back. I am... a bit late. I’ll see you later, habibi.’ She tapped her hand four times. A reminder that she cared about him. Before she disappeared through a swirling portal of mist grey and acrid blue, she saw him repeat the sign.

Behind her mask, she smiled.

——

“Who was that, Robin?”

Robin stared up at Batman. Damian Wayne stared up at his father.

“She... protected me.”

Not quite an answer. But it was an olive branch, to tell him who she was to Damian himself, but not who she truly was in relations to Damian.

“That’s it?”

“That is all you’re getting.” He replied, hands tightening around the hilt of his sister’s sword. Her magic hummed beneath his fingertips, the feeling of indescribable violence softening to a sense of protectiveness the moment the sword felt his presence. Damian respected Father. He might even love him. But Damian loved his sister first, and he would not betray her trust.

A new file is added to the database. Nightwing gets an update. When a familiar masked face pops up, Dick Grayson sped out of Bludhaven to interrogate his littlest brother.

And so the wheels turned.

——

“Tell me, granddaughter, what it is you truly think of me.”

Despite the conversational tone, she knew it was an order. The scars on her back burned, a reminder of another rebellion and the cost of failure.

There were many, many ways she could answer. All of them unpleasant. Yet, she must be pleasant. He must hear how she’d been broken, or else he’d keep trying to break her.

She tilted her head down, so he would not glimpse the hatred brewing in her eyes.

“I respect you, grandfather.” Because she did respect his ability to bend her at his will, for all that she hated him. It took a special kind of scum to be so cruel to one own blood. “I wish to obey your every order.” Because if she didn’t, pain would follow. But that wish was a temporary one, only in effect until she managed to kill him and come out on top.

Ra’s laughed, a warm and rich sound. Hollow, because he loved none but himself and so only reserved warmth for his own flattery. It sounded like the sharpening of a blade and it felt like balancing on a precipice. On one side, an eternity of torture. On the other, the pain of those she loved. Damian... and maybe, just a little, Talia herself.

"Do you love me, granddaughter?" He crooned, mocking and cruel, in a way one might ask a jilted lover. The reincarnation held her breath and answered. She will not lie. She can not lie, not to him. He had gouged the order into her tongue with magic and brutality. And so, she will not lie.

"No, grandfather. But I do not dislike you." The reincarnation said, soft as velvet. It was true, because what she felt for Ra's al Ghul was the cold, pervasive hatred. "I respect you."

"I see I've managed to beat some of that foolish sentimentality out of you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. Oh, how she wished she could slip poison in his cup. How she wished to make him choke on his own words, his own blood. But she could not. Not. Yet. "Alas, I can not undo the magic. I suspect you'll be serving at my feet for... quite a long time more."

She snapped her mouth closed, phantom rage hovering between her teeth. The world swirled around her, greens and purples, and the revolting touch of his hands on her.

No, she will bide her time.

She knelt, the motion familiar, on plush carpet that she could not appreciate. Luxurious cloth rustled in front of her.

And when her time comes, she will revel in Ra's al Ghul's agonizing death.

——

"Damian, you have to tell me who that is!"

Damian could be stubborn at times, he knew that. He worked with him on it. Damian was as much, if not more, Dick's Robin as he was Bruce's Robin. So why...?

"And for what reason do you wish to know her identity, Richard?"

Dick paused. He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. No one knew, except for that masked person. It happened so long ago- not long enough- and Dick could not wash the taint, could not wash the trauma from his brain, his heart. Whispers that sounded like Catalina surrounded him when he thought of that rainy night, telling him how disgusted his family would be, if they knew. Those things went away, now that he's pulled up the file on the batcomputer. The whispers fade a bit as he looked upon the masked face of the person who saved him. Just in time.

"For your safety!"

Damian crossed his arms, a look that spoke of an unbending unwillingness present in his eyes. Dick knew then that Damian would not tell him. "I will never be in danger if it's her on the other side of the blade."

"Come on, Damian, I won't tell B. Promise. Don't you trust me?"

Damian's face softened, and for a second, Dick had thought that he'd managed it. "I do... trust you." Damian struggled to say. "That is hardly ever in question, you imbecile. But to tell you would mean betrayal. And I will not betray her trust. Especially not for your personal satisfaction."

Dick wondered what this masked woman did for Damian to be unhesitatingly confident in her. He wondered if his own desperation meant something he had yet been able to put into words.

"For what it's worth, Dick, I think we should trust Damian and not pry."

Dick and Damian turned to Tim in surprise. Damian, because it was an unexpected vote of confidence.

"Woah, I do not want to hear that from you, Mr. Tiny Tot Stalker McGee."

"It's called preparation!" Tim said hotly back. Then, he subsided. "She, uh, saved me once. Back then, before I was... associated with Bruce."

"What?" Dick and Damian demanded.

——

Innocuous. The worst and best things always happened on innocuous days.

The beginning of her slavery began on a regular, if painful, sunny day.

The beginning of her freedom began on a regular, if painful, cloudy one.

She'd have to thank the little photographer later, she decided. His work all but forced her grandfather to rely on a handful of backup Lazarus pools only he, mother, and herself knew about. She stared at the green pools as her grandfather stripped to his waist to step in.

"Guard me," he commanded her as he stepped towards the pool. The sting of the command settled familiarly around her neck. “Once I am done, you will depart to force Damian or the detective back to Nanda Parbat. By any means necessary.”

It was his first time ordering her to hurt her brothers, past physical pain disguised as training.

His first mistake today.

That's the thing with her grandfather, she mused as she silently unsheathed Damian's sword. He was so complacent, that he could fathom her betrayal.

His second mistake. His last mistake.

Then again, it was her who lulled him into it, with the shows of loyalty and seemingly willing obedience outside of her magical collar's commands.

After all, he had commanded her to guard him. From outside threats, surely, but he hadn't commanded her to guard him from herself.

"You-!" He coughed as her- Damian's- blade slid in between his ribs and straight towards the other side. It missed his heart by a hair's breadth, Ra's having moved the moment he felt the blade. Truly, it was hard to beat a near-immortal's experience.

"Kill yourself!" He barked at her, clutching at his chest, trying to stumble towards the pool.

To kill herself, she had to remove the blade lodged in his chest. The magic urged her to follow his commands immediately with searing pain. But she's had over two decades to endure and adjust to it, to grit her teeth and learn how to move with the torture of being alive. So she follows it just to dislodge the blade. The reincarnation then, with the magic trying to break her, cripples Ra’s with two blows.

He collapsed, screaming bloody murder and slurs at her. Before he could say another command, she stabbed down and to the side, cutting deep enough to cut his voice box and spill his life-blood, his unceasingly irritating throat, over the craggy rocks surrounding the pool.

Then, she slit her throat with a cut that was a touch too shallow to kill her right away.

"I do not dislike you," she said, the pain easing as she spoke to him. The red she's taken from others now spilled on the front of her shirt. She stared at his enraged glare, vicious glee at making him choke on his own actions. "No, I hate you."

She bent down, twisting and breaking his arms with little effort. She patted his cheeks and raked a trail of pain down his face with her metal tipped gloves. Her blood dripped onto him, blinding his eyes.

Fitting, she'd thought. "No one will come for you, grandfather. But... I do have to ask," She looked down, voice tilting in the cruel way that he'd unintentionally taught her. "Don't you love me, grandfather?"

She walked backwards until she reached the edge of the pool. She knelt once more, a mockery of every time she's knelt for him.

The reincarnation watched his blood spill, the light leave his eyes, and the way his body stilled and the way his rage was stifled like he'd smothered her voice so long ago. She memorized it, because hate was an active emotion. But she was tired, and she wanted to rest. So she watched him die and felt nothing but peace.

Then, as she felt the magic take hold and tear her soul from her body, she tipped backwards and plunged her corpse in the glowing pits that awaited her.

——

It felt like drowning.

(did y’all know cats lay on your chest?? bro i straight up couldn’t breath bc of that)

Breathless. Corrosive. Freeing.

The Pit felt like freedom.

And she’d long forgotten what that felt like.

It tasted like shit water though, and suddenly she felt bad for everyone whoever swallowed some of the water here. She’s going to need her stomach pumped out after this-

Her thoughts were washed away in a haze of green tinted fury.

——

“Habibi.”

Nightwing slid in front of Robin with a well practiced flip. Batman emerged from the shadows, followed Spoiler and Red Robin.

“Talia. What do you want?” Batman growled. Talia ignored him, an uncharacteristic action that had the vigilantes putting their guards up.

“I… you know I would not ask this of you- I would not ask you to return,” Talia said softly.

“Then don’t.” Red Robin cut in sharply, bo staff at the ready. Talia ignored him too.

“But she needs you, habibi. I can not… I can not help her.”

“Who?” Spoiler asked, curious but ready to rumble.

“What happened?” Robin stepped around Nightwing, who made an aborted movement to try to pull Robin back behind him.

“Something terrible.” Talia al Ghul closed her eyes, a sliver of vulnerability and regret showing on her face. Robin straightened, fear thudding through his heart. What happened to ukhti, he wanted to ask. But he could not, not without betraying the promise of silence he’d made to her. “I… I have failed her greatly. And she was paying the price for it, this entire time.”

“Wait, is this about the masked woman?” Nightwing asked.

“Alright,” Robin- no, Damian- stepped forward once more. His decision was made. Had been made, the moment his mother allowed the rare instance of vulnerability to come across her face. “I’ll be going back, once…”

“Of course. She would not let me keep you, habibi. She knows you are happier here.”

“Then, let’s go.”

“Robin!” His family tried to stop him but Damian slipped between and out of their reach. “Do not!”

“I’ll be back,” he declared, like he was daring his mother to say otherwise. “Try not to raze Gotham into the ground with your incompetence.”

“I’ll kill Ra’s if something happens to him.” Red Robin pointed the bo staff at Talia as she and Damian turned to leave. He stopped an alarmed Batman when he tried to lunge for Robin.

“No need,” she threw back. Damian whipped his head up at that. “He’s already dead.”

And they disappeared into a whirling purple cloud of magic.

——

Snippets of reality return to her bit, by bit. Her mother had cautiously entered the pit with her guards- worried, no doubt, by their absence- and stilled upon seeing her father’s dead body.

She laughed, and dug her hands into the bodies of the assassins she’d trained until her nails dripped with blood and pieces of organs. She felled them, one by one, until only mother was left.

She’d attacked, like a rabid dog, until the green slipped and her mother came into focus.

“I killed him,” she’d croaked out. And that was what broke her; the smooth way air wrapped her around her throat where only ripping pain had existed. Her voice came out unhindered and recklessly so, without the tinge of agony carefully picking her sentences.

“I killed him,” she repeated, and set Ra’s al Ghul’s body on fire. “I killed him.”

Her mother stared at her, hands dropping carefully to her side. “Why?”

She smiled, teeth bared and bloody- oh, she must have ripped into an assassin with her teeth, how messy- and endlessly joyful. “Because he dared to chain me- because he threatened Damian.”

She broke, and she told her mother everything. No, not everything. Just, enough. At the end, when her back is bowed with pain and heart empty, her mother knelt before her and quietly, tremblingly, apologized.

“I am sorry, habibi. I…”

The reincarnation’s made a small, wounded noise and lost herself to the green.

——

Damian trembled with rage. With grief.

With regret.

He followed mother into the caverns, mind turning and whirling with everything he’d learned in the hour that had passed since he’d left Gotham. His sister’s inclination towards magic was incredibly helpful, but Damian wished that she had never had the cause to go delving into magic like she did.

He thought it was passion.

His mother had informed him of what Grandfather had done to his ukht all these years. She told him of what his sister had sacrificed so that he remained free.

“Every time she spoke to us, to tell us that she loves us… father had made sure she paid for every word with unceasing agony.” His mother had muttered, eyes more lost than he’d ever seen it. “The magic at her neck ensured that she obeyed unquestioningly or she paid the price.”

“She is paying the price right now,” he’d snapped at her.

“Yes.”

Damian had thought ukhti’s collection of magical tomes were a sign of her interests. He thought it was passion for a subject. He had even envied how she did not have to hide her hobby like he had to with his art.

Now, he knew it wasn’t passion. No, it was desperation; a scrambling for freedom, a wish for dignity, and the fear of the same restrictions being placed on his ukht’s loved ones- him and mother.

When he entered the cave, lit up by swirling, sickly green, he saw his ukht, drenched in blood and sclera, tearing apart another group of assassins. There were ashes and the smell of burnt flesh around them.

Her eyes- green, glazed, furious- turned towards them.

His mother tensed. His ukht lunged, pitted sword aimed at his eyeball.

But if there was anything Damian knew, it was that ukhti would never hurt him.

So he stayed still.

And she stopped. Blade a centimeter from his eyes, his sister stopped.

“Damian?”

How his heart broke when she spoke, confusion in her voice that sounded as if she had been screaming for decades and nobody had heard.

As Damian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and she dropped the sword, he morbidly thought that she might have been doing that. It’s not like they heard her, after all, not until she’d freed herself with broken fingers and steel spine.

——

Bruce paced around in the cave. With the disappearance of their youngest, the entire family gathered in the cave, the night after. Except for Barbara, who had been scouring the cameras and had prior engagements, and Cass, who was on a plane back from Hong Kong, the family watched as Bruce slowly lost his mind.

“Relax, B. Look, even Dickface and Timbers aren’t worried, and you know how they get.” Jason said, kicking his feet up on the table.

“Ahem.”

Jason quickly put his feet down.

“We know nothing about this woman! She could be a danger- she could-!”

“B, if it really is about the masked woman, I think we should give Damian some trust.” Dick spoke up.

“And what if they keep Damian captive?”

“Then we go get him, Bruce. Simple.” Duke said, yawning.

Whatever Bruce would have said next was cut off by the opening of the cave’s underground entrance, with an approving beep of a recognized and authorized entrance.

Damian stalked in, hands wrapping around the hilt of his sword like he was going to cut through the next fool who tested him. His face was in a frown.

“Damian. Are you alright?” Bruce rushed towards his youngest, only to be dodged.

“I need to break something. Then, we shall talk.”

Damian headed towards the training dummies at let out his fury. He let out his heart break. Splinters of wood and cloth and ripped padding laid testament to his grief.

Then, the younger brother of the true heir to the Demon’s Head turned around to speak to his chosen family.

——

Clarity.

Her brother, her fool, dumb brother who had just stood there as she tried to gouge his eyes out, had been exactly what she needed.

She avoided his concerned eyes as she muttered calculations under her breath.

“Ukhti, what are you doing?”

“Freedom, habibi. I am… creating my freedom.”

At his confused look, she made the signs for Pit Rage. He nodded and guarded her back.

Damian was so adorable. And now, now that there’s not collar around her neck, she could say that without awaiting internal agony!

Her mouth spoke the words she’d found all those years ago, magic flaring bright white and blue as the circle she laid down on crumbling rocks shuddered.

The magic soothed her frayed mind and seeped the poison from her mind.

——

“I have a sister.” He’d told them. He turned to his father, who had a blank look on his face. “An older sister. She is yours.”

“You fucked Talia, twice?!”

A scowl. “Keep your trap shut, Todd.”

Bruce felt his world shudder to a stop.

——

Her fingers, her left hand as her right was busy scratching absently at Damian’s head, found purchase on her back and neck. The skin wasn’t so soft anymore, time and scars making for a rougher feel.

There were worse things than death. Bitter, painful things.

Loosing her freedom. Loosing her voice.

But… there were better things than life. Sweet, gentle things.

Regaining her freedom. Getting revenge. Securing her family’s safety and freedom from the grotesque thing that wore the skin of a grandfather.

Her brother, tucked safely against her side, and a mother that finally understood.

“Come to Gotham with me,” Damian had suggested. She hummed, delighting in the way the sound came out with out the ringing pain.

But one does not erase two plus decades worth of trauma in one night.

Her hands came up.

‘Not yet. Mother will think-”

“It is a good idea.”

Her gaze darted up. Her mother’s eyes… softened. Odd. No… her gaze was heavy with guilt.

“It would… do you good to be away from here, my daughter.”

Well.

It’s not like she was opposed to that, at all, but still…

‘Two weeks. I’ll tie up loose ends… and I’ll go to Gotham in two weeks, if that’s alright with you, Damian?’

“Of course.” He leaned against her, hand clutching at her shirt in a motion that she wasn’t sure was meant to comfort himself or her. “May I tell father about you?”

Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. The pit really scattered her mind. She nodded.

——

“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”

“She asked me not to.”

“And since when did you do things people ask of you, demon brat?”

Damian scowled. It did not make his next sentence any less genuine.

“Since it was ukhti that asked.”

Tim spun around on his wheel chair. “Holy shit. So the masked person was your sister. No wonder you were so….”

Protective, they all finished the rest of the sentence silently. They all sat back to contemplate that Bruce had one more kid… and that Tim had met her before Damian was even born.

“So, why were you so upset, baby bird?” Dick asked, an odd feeling of both gratefulness and mild jealousy towards Damian’s sister- his savior, because holy shit- gathering underneath his heart.

“Apparently, grandfather put her under an enslavement spell all these years.”

“Damian… say that again. I- I must have heard you wrong.”

Damian closed his eyes, hating how unsteady and fearful his father sounded. He obliged, because he knew what it felt like.

“Grandfather put her under an enslavement spell and used her to further the League’s reach.”

Damian had wondered why he had encountered his sister so often while passing by grandfather’s chambers and why she always looked tired when she goes past those ornate doors.

Now he knew.

“Does that- does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes. She,” Damian’s hands gripped harshly on his forearms. He breathed in and out slowly. “She was… assaulted. Most likely regularly. To broker more favorable agreements. She could not refuse. The magic demanded complete obedience or risk the punishment of unbearable pain.”

Dick looked away. They had a lot in common. She saved him… but on her end, she was not saved. His hands itched to punch Ra’s al Ghul in the face.

“Fuck.” Stephanie cursed. Her eyes met Duke’s and Jason’s.

Tim’s hands stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at Damian. He should have tried harder to kill Ra’s al Ghul.

Bruce got up, trembling, and stalked over to the training dummy. They sat in silence.

“What else?” Bruce rasped. He hung his head.

“She was ordered not to speak a word.”

“But she… spoke to me.” Tim said. Damian felt an irrational flare of jealousy.

“Then it most likely caused her unimaginable pain as punishment.” Damian snapped.

“What do we have to do to free her?” Stephanie demanded.

“Nothing, Brown. She freed herself.”

“How?” Duke leaned in, expression serious. “Did Ra’s al Ghul free her before he died or something?”

“I… am not too sure of the details, but it involved killing him… and jumping into the pit.”

Jason stood up with a clatter. “She was in the pit?!

“Yes. I think… she might have died. I’m not… sure.”

Bruce closed his eyes, working on his breathing like Dinah had showed him.

“Is that why Talia came? Because you could stop her pit madness?”

“Yes. I- there-” Damian struggled to get the words out, the ball of upset sitting on his chest made it hard to breathe. “Ukhti would never hurt me. Unless it’s training, but even then, I am sure she fought against her orders to wound me.”

Dick nodded. Yeah. He would have too, if he were in her shoes.

“I… can ukhti come here to recover?”

“Of course. When?” It was at times like this when he appreciated his family’s sentimentality and ridiculously large hearts. Unhesitatingly kind, even when they should have been furious at him for keeping ukhti’s secrets.

“Two weeks.”

“Then we shall make adequate- no, better than adequate preparations. Master Damian, what were her preferences for food?”

——

She should probably prepare a gift. Multiple.

“Ukht.”

She tilted her head to show Damian she was listening.

“I am sorry.”

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’

“But-”

She squeezed his shoulder and forced the words to come out. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have noticed.”

‘I did not want you to notice. If I hid things from you, do you think you could find them so easily?’

“No, I suppose not.”

She smiled at him and tapped her hand four times. He tapped his own four times in response.

——

The dream ended there, well, no, there was actually some more nonsense about a corgi, a room full of strings and slenderman or whatever but I didn’t include that part. There’ll probably be a part three bc I kinda wanna know what happens when she comes to Gotham to recover from trauma.

The oc, relatively well adjusted: *dies*

The oc, reincarnated and got fucked over (figuratively and non consensually literally): “yes, I should go to Gotham (aka trauma central) to recover from my trauma. Sounds legit.”

#Dick Grayson #dick grayson and his gatekeeper gaslight girl boss self #oc in dc #batman #damian wayne’s older sister #damian wayne #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #talia al ghul #ra’s al ghul #ra’s al ghul and the consequences of his actions #tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

[imbibitorlunaeluv]

Late Night Talks

You can't seem to get a peaceful night's rest, and neither can he.

Yuta Okkotsu x Fem! reader.

A lil drabble I made, basically for those who feel absoloutely guttered after a long day. L/N is your last name! have fun lovelies and DON'T sleep late!

This isn’t normal. None of this should be normalised to a teenage girl, a child who eliminates curses up until the sun rises up. But there are some who are considered gifted. Blessed to be stronger by others, and at all cost protect the weak. Though those rules are unwritten, it should be common knowledge by everyone.

I open the door to the dorms, my breath heavy as I fight the urge to close my eyes. A full week of enduring the need to faint is what I have overcome, and it may as well become part of my life by now. They say it is all well, the safety of others- of the weak, ensured.

The strong shielding the weak.

I lazily take off my combat boots, not caring what noise I may make at this time of night as I let my back collapse onto the sofa. I feel my sight become a blur, the taste and smell of curses still lingering in the air, the face of a helpless man screaming and kicking whilst making it harder to exorcise the damned cursed spirit.

To hell with the weak.

My right arm lifts up to cover my eyes, exhaling through my nose as I feel myself getting lightheaded,

“I feel like dying today…”

I mutter, to absoloutely no one. Besides, who in god's name would still be up by this hour?

“L/N-san?"

For some reason, something in me warms up just by hearing the familiar voice. I pry my hand away slightly, only to be met by a cursed boy’s dark silhouette in the dimly lit living room we both inhabit. His head peeked out from above the couch, leaning against the back of it while he looked down at me.

“Yuta…” I couldn’t fight the small smile forming onto my face, a slight bit surprised that I was caught off guard and couldn’t sense his presence.

“What… Why are you still awake?”

"I should be the one to ask you that."

I sit up slightly, propping myself up onto my elbows as I attempt to show a non exhausted grin, not like he could actually see it in such darkness.

“I just finished a mission… took longer than expected.”

He doesn’t at all seem satisfied with my answer. The change in atmosphere and posture could tell it all,

“Ah… alright then.”

“You don’t seem content with my answer, pretty boy.”

And he answers a beat later,

“You’re lying. Your missions usually take way longer than this.”

Even without seeing him clearly, the frown on his face was as bright as the sun. Ever since our shared conversation in the sushi restaurant, Yuta and I have been conversing more and more frequently without experiencing an awkward silence.

So attentive, I let a chuckle slip past my lips. The thought of having someone who could actually be awake enough to hear me come through the door is actually frightening. Having someone else who also has a messed up sleep schedule, or mind, accompanying me in the lonely night.

I gave into a smile, “You were always awake, weren’t you?”

A question that needed no answering to, making Yuta shake his head slightly as he walked to turn on the kitchen light instead.

“I never sleep- well at least I try not to…” his voice trails off, a yawn overcoming him as I sit up to get a better view of Yuta.

The way his eyes were begging to be closed shut, his slouched back and heavy eye bags were enough to make me feel slight pity. For a boy who claims to never sleep, he’s done particularly well in the art of combat. His passion, his determination, his love towards her.

I pursed my lips at the thought of Rika, “Do you never try to talk to… you know… Rika?”

A laughable question it might be, humorous to Yuta probably as I expected him to topple over laughing. But then again, it’s Yuta. The depressed cursed teenage boy I saved. The cursed boy merely smiles, holding his mug in one hand as he looks over to me.

“Not ever since being haunted by her face in my dreams, no.”

I experienced it too, is what I wanted to say. Although nothing leaves my mouth, I give an understanding nod instead. After realising that the past would always chase me till my sleep, I was slightly grateful for the stockpile of missions that made me occupied. I stopped consulting with Shoko as it proved to be of no help.

“Sometimes when I do see a glimpse of the past Rika… I feel sick to my stomach.”

I know the feeling.

“Knowing that I couldn’t even do anything made me feel useless… even until now.”

I’ve always felt that way.

“Sometimes I feel that Gojo-sensei was right… love is a twisted curse.”

Love is for the weak.

I let out a hum, eyes casted down to instead look at my nails and speak whatever comes to my head, “He told me the same thing. But I thought it was so I would steer away from dating anyone.”

And for a moment, I catch a glimpse of Yuta’s sheepish look.

“You-you’ve never… had a lover?” he questions me, his cheeks flaring up into a vibrant pink while avoiding any form of eye contact. He sounds lost, astounded, even. It’s as if the facts I conveyed to him were all white lies.

“Never really thought of having one, really. I admit that the topic of romance does hang higher in the books I read, but I’ve never experienced what it’s like to be loved romantically by someone.”

My explanation seemed to bring Yuta some courage to at least look me in the eye, his lips slightly parted at the information he received. He seems to stay like that for a moment, the same startled look looming on his features.

I take notes on his face features, softly lit up by the light shining right above the kitchen counter behind him. The colour on his face seemed to return after enrolling in Jujutsu High for a while, and he doesn’t look as skinny and bony as he did. His hair was growing a tad bit longer, more fluffy but never kept neat. My gaze goes down to his lips, his slightly chapped, parted lips.

I feel myself getting warmer by the second, my heart thumping so loud I can almost throw it up. He looks at me, with such eyes that cloud so much thought. And I absolutely feel myself getting weaker just by this, and I absolutely hate it.

I return my gaze to his eyes, “Too shocked to speak?”

Yuta flinches by the sound of my voice, almost as if he was in a haze whilst looking over at me. He then shakes his head, watching his unkept raven hair move as a blush rises to his ears. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes not meeting mine as I can barely make out his muffled voice,

“You’re just… too pretty

#jujustu kaisen #yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta #jjk yuuta #jjk #jjk x reader #fluff #jjk fluff

[mossy123302]

This is going more pissa (romantic, correct?) and might have some...implied nsfw....?

My thoughts is very scrambled, and I have so much to say.

I always think about Origins!Smp Philza meeting Q! Missa...

Missa who probably got lost during his way back in his travels of finding Q! Philza a gift! Missa is determined to find the right one, to show how much Philza means to him and that he deserves something better....

But, uh, Missa wasn't currently sure where he was and now he's upset, not angry, but upset... How is he supposed to find the greatest gift, a treasure when he cannot even find his way back home! How?! He was on the right trail and still got horribly lost...He should have just brought a map and compass with him, but he didn't because he was confident with himself that he would find his way back. He always found his way back one way or another, even if it took much longer...but while he tries to find his way back, he'll just keep looking for a good gift for Philza

....

Missa, who, stops in his track when he sees two large familiar wings. Oh, ohhhh, oh lady death spare him, because apparently he was never lost at all?? Philza is here??? RIGHT HERE AND HE DOESN'T HAVE A GIFT- DIOS MIO

Missa was just ready to cry right there and decided he was just gonna have to make up whatever lie and present he has in his backpack, he lost his backpack

Missa was too distracted, muttering and quietly sobbing to himself that he wasn't aware that Philza already noticed his presence.

Well... O! Philza, to be more exact, who immediately noticed a new presence in his territory..his home.... He was curious to see what this new person was, and what bravery they had to be so willing to enter and well.... He wasn't sure what to make of this strange fella who wore a skeleton mask, and dressed in purple and blue with a few chains that seemed to be connected around his neck to his armor shoulder, with another skeleton over it as decoration...

O! Philza is a little disappointed, but he doesn't think this new stranger would have anything good for him...he looks... pitiful and pathetic like some wet cat.

O! Philza was about to leave until suddenly Missa called out for him and he almost tripped over his own feet, because how does this stranger know his name—

Annndd why is he crying— Oh Lady Death help him-

Missa tried to be brave, help him, he tried but he immediately broke down crying because he honestly didn't know what to say or offer as an apology gift, so all he could do was give a sorry lame apology to Philza for not being around and letting him take care of their two beautiful eggs/children all by himself

It took a minute for O! Philza to process and awkwardly stop Missa that he genuinely has no idea who he is or why he is here and that they don't have no kids and if he's gone insane— (O! Philza has standards, thank you very much- While Missa is very cute in his opinion, he doesn't plan on having anymore children nor does he recall ever adopting. Who the heck is Chayanne and Tallulah)

After some awkward conversation, O! Philza did finally offer Missa to stay at a nearby village until he can figure out how to...get him back to Quesadilla Island, back to his Philza and his kids. Missa is forever grateful to this weird other version of his platonic husband, and decided he'd lighten up the village as a thank you!

....How does one lighten up a village anyways?

..Missa will figure it out.

Missa itches every little instinct in O! Philza, and it's such a curse and blessing. The way Missa screams, and immediately clings to O! Philza without any hesitance, crying for him to save him.

The way Missa found some bravery in him to finally ask if he could preen his wings, because gods, he knows how important wings are to them and he wasn't gonna let O! Philza walk around, with dirty wings, like that any longer. He was so gentle as he tended to every feather and even as an extra bonus, he gave a massage to O! Philza and his wings as well!

Missa, in O! Philza opinion, is a god send...

Missa is super attentive, makes delicious meals that he's never heard of before and most of all, despite being weak, he still tries and is willing to put himself out there if it means his family and friends were safe. O! Philza may have...purposely stopped searching for a way to send Missa back and instead send Missa further and deeper into the forest...deeper where no one can find him.

Further away from civilization. O! Philza wanted to be the one to save him each time, to be the only one he speaks with... But Missa already has a home, his own Philza and kids.

That burned deep in O! Philza brain. Missa wasn't mated, as far as he can tell, there's no bite mark, no scent or anything (Though it could be because Missa has been traveling so the scent must have worn off), and yet he has kids! Literal actual children they take care of and takes after those two...

Now O! Philza loves kids, don't get him wrong, but even he doesn't know where Missa came from and as far as he can tell, someone must have purposely dropped Missa here without telling anyone and now he's just stuck here, so oh well.

But Missa never stops talking about them....He doesn't stop. He talks and talks about them, and O! Philza wonders how red Missa's face will get if he kisses him to shut him up.

Will Missa quiet down if he gave Missa kids?

O! Philza isn't quite sure of what anatomy Missa has, but he knows Missa isn't human at all to some degree, so it's possible...he could....

The idea of Missa being— He's getting distracted. He could just fetch some other fledglings from another nest, but...he knows it won't quiet Missa for long. It's not his biological ones, not the real ones but...

...Hm.

Mm.

O! Philza might not be so against the idea after all of Missa entering his nest. It has been awfully quiet and empty anyways...

#pissa #thoughts #too many thoughts #missasinfonia #o!philza #help #i wrote something #perishes #qsmp??? #missa qsmp #q!missa #mentioned q!philza #missa design is a reference to maepletea design #yandere implied

[duahauuoplanh]

From the first day we met, my world has always been full of you.

#the end of an era #goodbye #the last 4 months were a lot to me #i did what i could as a supportive fan #best wishes for you both #take care and you always have my blessing #whatever you become #and also thanks everyone that has been reblogging my set believe it or not I all went through your tags and have some good time myself #I'll keep giffing cause this my coping mechanism #pleasure is on me #Junho #Yoona #King the Land #Lee Junho #always next to Junho #It’s Junho’s season now #2pm #SNSD #I put my heart into every gifset I’ve made #tình yêu tìm đến ta như món quà tình yêu đẹp ngỡ như nhành hoa.. #parallels

[artist-rat]

my old and new tes character Saima <3 she’s a combination of a couple of my prev. ocs!

#elder scrolls #tes #khajiit #oc: saima #i play / will be playing her in both eso and skyrim bc the 'worldstate' my sister our friend and i have... we just stopped caring lol #probably if asked to take time seriously it would/will be all happening around skyrim times but #we just have such great time running around together in eso building the stories #:') #she's from dragonstar craglorn originally #. traveled... met a pirate captain and fell in love w/ her and became a pirate as well... #is besties with a daedric cat creature literally called 'lockpick' <3 (collects mint for them) #... always keeps a diary and loves collecting books and tomes.. #once got to peek into an elder scroll (but only lost vision from one eye bc kept the other one closed <3) (shh i know it doesn't work like #that in canon but i thought it was silly and awesome for her lol) #...her birthsign is the serpent. most blessed and cursed <3 #BOW GAL! both crossbows and uh. the usual ones? #in eso her class is nightblade. i once did another version as a necromancer and it was rly cool too but decided to keep the nightblade #THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK of my gal <3 it's over now #oh. one more thing.! she/they #💗

[yoonstudios]

mom, i love him | ☁️ | for → @kimtaegis + @marvelousbangtan ↳ 5th muster in japan (cr. namuspromised)

#btshoneyhive #dailybts #purplearmynet #boongietrack #annietrack #userjeonjcngkook #trackofthesoul #heyryen #shirleytothesea #usersky #tusermanny #yoonkookclub #dailydaegu #cyphernet #tusercait #tusercelia #flytomyroom #myg #5th muster #my+gifs #[note to annie: hello! please accept this as a little (late) birthday gift <3 i was having trouble with ps for like two months but it's #working now and i want to make you SOMETHING but sorry it's not much– just think of me giving you a small box and a little angelic yoongi #pops out and gives you a smol hug lol #if that sounded weird i'm sorry i'm kinda sleep deprived rn lmao but anyway please take care of yourself and God bless you! 🤍] #[note to crystal: hii! i hope you're doing okay and that this lovely happy yoongi makes your day a bit better! you're a wonderful #person btw and yoongi is proud of you always <3 God bless you love!]

[dirt-str1der]

Love characterising nishikiyama as a booze hound drug hound meth addict high every day body mass 75% alcohol hands constantly shaking literally spacing out while driving fifty over the speed limit using elderly folk as speedbumps one hand on the wheel and one hand free to do more drugs and coming into work while functionally deaf and blind and he is still leagues more competent at his job than kiryu

#Yakuza loveblog #i dont talk about nishikiyama enough because im kazamapilled and hate him a little bit but im also kiryupilled and love him so much so you #see my problem? like i adore when nishiki is just. better in every way than kiryu and nobody ever sees that because theyre all too busy #sucking kiryus cock like okay nishiki had the rest of his life planned out when he was twenty and he was an extremely successful criminal #and getting himself noticed in many many circles then kiryu steps outside and gets into a street fight immediately and the entire tojo clan #surrounds him to throw cash at him like nishiki was actually doing so well for himself before his life was ruined. nothing is his fault #like i love just accepting that nishiki has one hell of a substance abuse problem and nobody cares enough about him to talk to him about it #and kiryu thinks its normal because hes the only one who can see that nishikis doing some great work out there so he must be doing #everything right. inconceivable that nishiki has any sort of ‘problem’ hes the real screwup and kiryu knows he makes life harder for himself #but he refuses to change because hes convinced that thats the only thing hes good at. like i believe that nishiki has a coke snorting #mechanic in game like harry db and without his coke buff he cant do as much damage like with it his output is on par with kiryus whos just #been blessed since birth by the violence gods. anyway kiryu is the only person in the world who thinks that nishiki is great do you get it #nishiki has lived his entire life in kiryus shadow and he doesnt care that kiryu has a natural charisma that he will never have. he has to #get out there every single day networking and socialising and hustling and nonstop landing interviews with cool magazines to get his name #out in the world while kazama takes kiryu out and drags him by the elbow to meet people like this is my son kiryu who has every disease and #everyone claps and cheers like i cannot stress enough how on top of the game nishiki is compared to kiryu. he has a car. kiryu doesnt even #have his own lighter. they are not on the same playing field and yet nishikis always trailing behind him because opportunity is always #knocking at kiryus doorstep whether he likes it or not and nishiki gets fed scraps and nothing else and hes the one with ambition he wants #the view on top and most importantly he wanted his brother there with him but nobody ... likes him ... nobody likes nishiki nobodys in his #corner he onky had kiryu and when he lost him it was quite literally him against the world. it always made me laugh how at the end of yk1 #harukas paying her respects at nishikis grave when the only time he ever cared about her was because he wanted her little pendant and he #(actually fucked how alone nishiki was he didnt even have his own fucking men to rely on he was basically working alone with someone he knew #was using him like ??? he was fucking desperate) anyway i really love to think that kiryu being nishikis only friend and the last person in #the world who thought kindly of him (barring like ... kashiwagi) was grieving terribly over his death and haruka being a sensitive and #sweet little girl took the initiative to ask about nishiki and i think kiryu would tell her stories every night of the kind of stuff he and #nishikiyama would get up to when they were her age. he would tell her how amazing nishiki was and how he always looked out for him how he #took care of his sister and how he would always be the one to remind them of impending birthdays and the like. nishiki cared about the #little things .. and he made kiryu want to care about them too but theres just something different between them because nishikis always #been a better person than him .. and he would tell haruka in a voice that sounded like he was begging her to understand that nishiki wasnt a #bad person.. though he did bad things he was a good man and he still wishes with all his heart that he could have done more to save him ...

[snixx]

*starts drafting a rant on tumblr dot com* *writes a few hundred words* *is overcome by lethargy and omg doesn't sleeping sound so much more fun than this because im never going to get everything i want to express down and it's gonna feel forever incomplete* *lets it rot in my drafts forever and ever*

#girlblogging.pdf #i am a sleepy first and foremost above everything #but yeah just did the thing again #my drafts are a hellscape #so many incomplete rants in there i appreciate people who can consistently write full on rants #i adore reading rants but theyre so much work. critiquing and being a hater is so much work #because you have to be so careful about not accidentally including/excluding some harmless thing you didnt want to target #i mean dont get me wrong ive posted a few of them too #they usually get like 2 notes lol but its more for myself i like having it written down somewhere so im not overwhelmed when someone inevi #- tably asks my thoughts on a topic #and its frustrating stewing in my annoyance #but yeah anyway #i like ranting into the void its so satisfying when i feel like ive gotten my thoughts out semi fully somewhere #like processing all my thoughts takes away that power they have to frustrate me because i know im annoyed but cant fully express why #but yeah i am bad at completing them. thats the drawback of not being able to stay angry for long the sleepy always overpowers the rage #its a blessing and a curse #blessing cause im mostly pretty chill #curse because it WILL comeback to annoy me later if i dont fully process it

[oddcne]

Claws my way onto the dash after a million years just to rasp into the megaphone: fck american healthcare, all my homies hate american healthcare

#[ hello hello and sorry for my absence on here i have simply been fivehead deep in the suffering pit] #[ the fact everyone in my house has covid. i have all the symptoms minus loss of taste and smell. take tests and theyre all negative] #[ get a major sore throat to the point i think its strep- which i have always gotten very very easily ] #[ go to the urgent care only to get a mumbling wannabe comedian in a white coat who dismisses me at every turn] #[ guy makes very tasteful ‘jokes’ blaming me for being the one to bring cvid into the house. that even my mom. the carrier. had to step in] #[‘ we’re pretty confident i got it from a coworker!’ ‘ no matter what you say im blaming nore over here haha’] #[ then proceeds to make a pass at her and sends me on my way with an ‘ aw bud. it sucks. nothing i cant give you. drink water!’ ] #[ so safe to say ill be absent for a while longer . god bless merica ahhssj ] #tbd

[chut-je-dors]

Aw, I was rereading ten minutes and commenting every chapter, but then life happened and I forgot, sorry! Just know that you're an amazing writer and I will wait for new chapters as long as it takes. Take your time, and know that there's definitely someone who will read and love your writing!

oh it was lovely getting your comments on every chapter, me and puck were absolutely chuffed about it! and don't worry - life happening is the reason why we haven't been updating, so you really don't have any need to apologise! I get you <3

thank you!! i really hope to get the next chapter of ten minutes (and all the others) done sooner than later. i really miss sitting down with a pot of tea and then just, writing for hours on end. i just don't have the time... but some day i will! thank you for waiting, and sorry for making you wait!!

#(i'm back to living with my parents for some months and my god) #(someone is talking to me ALL THE TIME) #this morning too i was sititng here with my crappy laptop trying to concentrate on writing and mum was constantly talking to me #but like also i can't concentrate on writing in this house unless i'm sitting at the kitchen table???? #so????? #but i'm figuring it out. gonna try to squeeze in some writing hours during the week from now on #(i'm just always so knackered after work and i have the dog to take care of - and then my other job i do from home) #(that afterwards i just can't bring myself to do anything creative anymore) #oh boy #i wonder if people would be into my sims story cos THAT?? that advances at a fairly good pace #hahah #anonymous #answered #bless you!!!! <3333

[tautozhone]

idk how to start this so this post is ab individual action, trying to motivate positive change in the world, etc etc

a lot of growing up in the US for me makes things feel more scary than they are. like it’s actually not that difficult to go out of your way to get a bottle of water or iced cup of water from some random drive through if you think you should do it. either fast food conglomerate or local actually, it’ll usually be cheaper than 5 dollars to get drinkable water. i try to have 5-10 dollars i can justify spending on water, and asking for change, because sometimes when i’m out driving i need to go grab water.

i do not do this for me as much as i try to do it specifically when i see someone who’s most likely homeless on a street corner. i’m sure one day i might do this and they might not be there when i come back, but what have i lost really? a bit of time and a bit of money that would’ve meant more to them, that i can hold onto until i see them next.

the pressure that a lot of people feel when they think “what can i do” comes from this grand narrative that the average citizen can singlehandedly fix the housing crisis. rich people? maybe. nonprofits? not in a day, not all one person still. what can i do is a question i ask a lot. what can i do, not just because it feels bad to move along like nothings wrong with the world, but what can i do that will do anything. what can i do that makes even the smallest change.

i feel like it took me too long to figure out a personal method to what i consider individual action. it’s taking time to get to my own financial stability to be able to do more. but for now it’s as simple as water and cash. not water and food, but water and cash.

individual action means a lot in small steps, go get a bottle of water bare minimum and the price of a meal if you can and then just give it to them. if it wasn’t such a miserably hot place where i live i would keep a pack of water in my car, which i still want to do for the sake of having immediate access to water to give someone who might need it- hot or cold sometimes won’t matter. but when it’s hot out, get cold water, if it’s cold out, a warm tea will hydrate more than coffee will as long as it’s not super caffeinated.

#very genuinely i’ve always felt paralyzed by the idea i cannot doing anything to help and on the grand scale i kind of can’t #i can’t give someone a house to stay in where i could take care of the space enough to get someone back on their own feet #but i can give someone water and some money for whatever they need #one day i’ll be able to do more but for now. water bottles and cash. #what i want to say here is everyone knows bare necessities and everyone knows ways to get them #i also have an opinion that you should sit with and hold the harsh feeling of seeing the world fall apart and help people survive anyway #idfk man #i’ve met some extremely fucking jaded people in my time at college who seem to have no way to piece together that they can do SOMETHING #one of my classmates once complained about feeling bad about not doing anything for a guy on a corner and i recognized who #because i’d seen him too and done nothing at least 5 times before one day on the way home i gave him all the cash i had on me #she’d said she’d do more if she wasn’t so scared and anxious of being hurt. i don’t see how he could even look harmful or dangerous #he blessed me and offered a hug and asked me to have a good day and said thank you and i still can’t see why she was scared of him #at the same time i hadn’t done anything until i saw myself in someone else and thought it looked nasty. looked uncaring. #i saw him again today and gave him a water bottle and all the cash i had on me. i told him the weather seemed hot #he agreed with me and he took the bottle of water #i think i interrupted him opening it to hand him the rest #he got up and he blessed me again #offered a hug and more thank you’s and it’s so simple but i felt us both human in that moment. talking about the weather in a brief exchange #wishing each other well as we go different ways #he wouldn’t stop thanking me and wishing me well #i told him it was the smallest thing i think anyone could do and i still walked away hollow wishing to have done more somehow #to suddenly own an apartment complex nearby for him and anyone he knew that needed it too #not a rigid shelter but a place to make home #blah blah blah talking too much about a deed done because i get emotional about humanity #tauto talks

[chuluoyi]

soft gojo meeting his newborn hc, pleaaasee??

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:10 P.M 」

soft dad!gojo drove me to have another baby fever for the ntn time. you just have to put this idea in my head don’t you dear anon~

a part of gojo's love entries

the thing was so tiny, precious and squishy. it fit right in his hands, so red and fragile, almost like a toy—

only it was not. it was a real, living baby. his son, partly made by his own flesh and blood—his to protect.

“hello to you, my little minion,” satoru whispered to his newborn, wonderstruck by the sight of this small but clearly alive being. his eyes glazed, his fingers delicately tracing the baby's face, body, and tiny feet. “i’m your dad, yeah?”

his own soft voice sounded foreign to him. but at this moment, as he was utterly mesmerized by the sight of little human that just came out of you, his beloved wife, he couldn’t care less.

he had always imagined how his brat would look like. he even joked with you about how he’d get his good looks—and heck, the gods did hear him and this baby in his arms was the most handsome baby he had ever seen, blessed with his white hair and softest skin, as well as the rosiest cheeks.

his only dismay was that he also inherited the bluest of eyes, the curse in his family line.

well, but that’s a problem for another day.

he settled his newborn into the hospital's nursery crib, and nudged his pudgy cheeks once again. not even half a day had passed since he was born, and gojo satoru had developed a severe cuteness aggression for his son. he swore he’d spoil him rotten, shower him love he never truly experienced from his own parents, and of course, keep him safe.

with his heart full, he left the baby as he slept, and went back to your room.

in the very same predicament as your baby, you were still fast asleep. you were visibly exhausted, your hair was a tangled mess, and there was a line of dried blood along your lips—caused by accidentally biting them too hard earlier, during your labor pains.

even in the state of disarray, satoru still thought you looked ethereal, too good for him.

he ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing them, and he regretted it when your face scrunched up and your eyes fluttered open. “…hmm? satoru?”

“hey, sweets. how are you feeling?”

“i still feel like being split into two… but yeah, i’ll manage.”

“shush, of course. you feel that way often, each time when i—”

“don’t,” you warned, glaring at him. “i just birthed your heir, gojo satoru. don’t even start.”

satoru burst into a laugh so hearty and he realized he truly loved this dynamics with you. and that he was grateful for you.

he wanted to thank you for all that you had done for him. for returning his feelings. for marrying him. for going through that pain to bring his son to the world—

and most of all, for still being here. for staying alive to live another day with him.

“i saw him just now. our baby is perfect.”

“really? i want to meet him too…”

“soon, sweetheart... when you’re a little better, i’ll take you to him.”

but he wasn’t the best with words. and so even if he were to pour his heart out, everything would be condensed into this one sentence.

you were excited at the prospect of meeting your baby, when suddenly satoru leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you so damn much… you know?”

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff

[crossbackpoke-check]

I was reading through your old reblogs and sage to say the tags you put on the Oilers shower post are amazing and I would love to read something like that!!

Copying and pasting the tags here (the blue text is the part I was talking about but I left the preceding tags for context if that makes sense?):

#there's another shower right next to the sitting shower 9 is it in the front corner of the picture? is that little glass alcove the entrance #to get in? like there's also horny potential for somebody in the big empty open space & somebody waiting to come in hesitating but you can #see their shadow & their silhouette in the glass the one outside the door knowing that the other is inside all alone showering but still not #coming in because they're giving them privacy etc being the last ones out & this doesn't feel like a connor/leon thing so maybe it's going #in the vague yamo pile but whoever's in the big shower room all alone jerking off & narrating & god knows sound would carry inside that #space & it could be that whoever's outside the door forgot something in there (left soap etc etc) & just happened to walk in on it (and/or #on whatever is going on in the shower stall) & can hear but can't see them but they can see them & can tell that they're watching/listening #through the frosted glass anyway ALSO what i was trying to get to with nuge/yamo (Imao i don't even think i said nuge at first) was like. #omega yamo who goes into heat/is playing through it & yamo gets ejected from the game with the narrative of nuge five for fighting for #defending him (maybe it's the end of the third maybe it's the second & nuge gets a 10 minute major & yamo gets pulled for a concussion check #because of the hit & then the doctors are like Imao stupid no you can't go back out you're in heat [yamo saw nuge fight for him 00] so the #two of them end up in there alone i like the middle of the second bc then nobody's there & wont be for a minute actually) but it's yamo in #the big open space & nuge outside the door checking to make sure he's okay & thinking that he'll be fine he can control it yamo won't smell #because he's in the showers nuge'll just bury his face in soap nuge waiting politely outside the door & yamo is being a MENACE. ohhhhh we're #gonna have to do research but what was the injury that yamo was out for be the original gifset that started this... this is the inciting event #yamo has been bullying nuge for AGES & by god he's gonna get what he wants even if it takes jerking off in the oilers home showers to bait #nuge into doing it. nuge like 'you ok?' has a conversation with yamo etc nuge: 'you gonna be ok to make it home' & yamo says yeah but not

If you were referring to the time Nuge fought Holl, it was a because Yamo took a bodycheck up high and he had to be taken back for concussion protocol just to be safe

^^^real life footage of me receiving and reading this ask 🥺🥰 i would ALSO love to read a fic like that akdhskdjak, but getting this ask made me actually start a doc for omega yamo being a nuisance so thank you (also if you wanted more vague thoughts, here’s the original gifset i reference)

i think i know exactly which fight you mean!! and i think it is saved in my drafts with unhinged thoughts waiting to be released 😇 if i’m right, this is a video that i had to save multiple times on multiple platforms because it was Important To Me

#liv in the replies #thank you for context thank you for nice words i’m!!!! #🥰🥺😭😊🥹❣️ <- me getting this ask & hearing you like reading my tags (smiling kicking my feet giggling) #also ​me rolling up to this ask like five days late at an unreasonable hour (sounds like me normally on tumblr) #i will say!!! i am the slowest writer in the world!!!! this fic will not be coming ANY time soon #kailer yamamoto #edmonton oilers #ryan nugent-hopkins #GOD BLESS ME FUCKING WAITING TO POST THIS BECAUSE KAILER YAMAMOTO IS A DETROIT RED WING BAYBEEEE I’M SO HAPPY I LOVE HIM MY LITTLE DUDE #i need everyone to know that i saw a sad fancam retweet (didn’t watch the video just saw a comment talking about a lyric that got them #didn’t hear the song either and went WIAT HOLD ON HOLD ON i’d heard rumblings?? in the tags?? about yamo leaving edm but i didn’t really #know what was going on and i scrolled to the original tweet and in the resolves somebody said best of luck to yamo in detroit and I WAS #FILLING A 30 GALLON BUCKET WITH A HOSE AND LITERALLY DROPPED crouched to the floor and died right there oh my god why do these #things always happen when i have my HANDS FULL OF A FUCKING HOSE) i’m gonna. hyperventilating shrieking yowling YAMOOOOOOO #update. the spiral i have experienced. DETROIT BOUGHT YAMO OUT AND NOW WE DON’T HAVE HIM 😭😭😭😭 ARE YOU FOR FUCKING REAL RIGHT NOW I CAN’T #the only reason i was okay with the yamo trade was bc i was like ‘my sincerest condolences to edm fans. but yamo is coming to ME i love him #we will take such good care of him AND THEN THEY BOUGHT HIM OUT WHAT THE FUCK the brief and glorious joy of having yamo on my team so abrupt #i was once again filling up a bucket from a hose so like. @ hockey gods can you stop doing these things while i’m at work & have to pretend #to be normal. it is a personal crime against me actually & is direct retribution for the terrible thought i had yesterday wherein i was #imagining how yamo would fit onto our team (god bless omega yamo having another huge bonded omega to lovingly bully him like warren would mo #would do such a good job & can you just imagine 6’4 mo standing next to tiny little yamo? immaculate) <- that’s the important part but #actually hockey-wise it’s like. yamo is kinda exactly what we need a gritty little dude who’s gonna bring the energy & intensity & vibe #everybody up & the terrible terrible part of my brain was like :( but now that we have yamo does that mean we won’t re-sign bertuzzi because #yamo also fits that spot​ (yamo’s a right winger but still) & ALSO somebody said something about us signing tk which 😭🫡 i love him so much #but please don’t. ALSO I DON’T FUCKING WANT ALEX DEBRINCAT which is so mean & i feel bad because he’s a hometown boy & normally i would love #him but also. i just want bert back & if kitty comes at the cost of not having bert i’m so sorry bro you lose ANYWAY i had to think about #the gremlin energy of the wings having yamo tk & tyler in my ideal little brain & it was very pleasant to imagine but then i got struck down #lmao. remember when i said i was like five days late. sorry to have lied i am finally posting this &also noting i Cannot Handle free agency #the nuge defending yamo’s honor video will likely be coming out of the drafts as soon as i hang my laundry up & also finish making dinner #also also also!! if i am not Right & if you have made it this far can you send me the nuge fighting holl video if you have it 🤲

[ceilidho]

my most realistic Ghost headcanon is that he’s so absent father coded that he definitely has a wife and kid squirrelled away in a house somewhere that he visits from time to time but he finds it painful and uncomfortable being part of a “family” for too long so his visits are weird and sporadic, like he’ll randomly pick his son up from school and take him on a drive somewhere and you have no idea until your kid comes home that evening and tells you “oh yeah dad spent the day with me” and you’re GOBSMACKED because Simon never told you he was coming.

And other times he comes just to pick you up and bring you to a motel room he’s rented to fuck you six ways from Sunday and then when he’s done he just zips up and says “put another couple grand in the account for you and the boy” and kisses you on the head before driving you back home. Never stays very long. It can be rough on you, but if he stays too long he can feel his nerves fray. His upbringing made him hard and cold but there’s a part of him buried very very deep down that just doesn’t want to risk being his father.

Also I think he’s got a real kink for seeing you take care of his kid because of his own upbringing and how neglected he was as a child. He sees you sneak an extra sandwich in his son’s lunch and nearly breaks the glass in his hand. Obsessed with talking about how good you are to his kid when he’s fucking you - “good fuckin’ girl - gonna give me another?”

This has some adverse effects though because he has to be the hard ass parent like god forbid you try to tell his son he can’t have a snack before bed, he’ll just frown and go “the kid can ‘ave a snack, he’s no’ gonna go ‘ungry” like chill out, mate, he’s gonna have an upset stomach. It’s kind of a blessing when he’s not around because he always tries to contradict you when you’re trying to instil some discipline in your kid.