#(this was not hateful though you were being very polite. tone is hard to read in anons but I didn't read this as aggressive at all!)

[terrainofheartfelt]

from the pov of someone who works in medicine—hospitals do have blood banks and as far as I know family members are never asked to donate blood instead of just using the compatible blood in the bank. Especially in NYC someone who’s severely injured would be taken to a big hospital with plenty of blood in storage even if they needed a ridiculous number of transfused units (feel free to ignore this though haha)

I wholeheartedly believe you, and I think on some level I know that, what I think happened in the show is that chip wiskers somehow had a bad reaction to the banked blood, so they needed a donor who was a relative to reduce that risk

but THAT being said, don't put any more faith in me to be more medically accurate than GG, so who knows that whole plot point could be a mess -- it's really just my selfish wish of twisting what the writers did (aka resurrect bart bass so he can give his garbage son a life-saving transfusion), and twisting it back to the least toxic father-son dynamic in the show. (humphreys beat basses everytime)

and, it's also a callback to s4, when Rufus catches Georgina's paternity lie because he clocks Milo's blood type on his medical bracelet from when he was born, and he throws in some line about banking blood when Dan had an appendectomy when he was younger.

and all THAT being said, I am...intentionally writing from points of view in these next couple hospital chapters from characters who aren't trained in medicine, mainly because I'm not either and I'm sort of covering my own ass in regards to accuracy, because if the character I'm writing understands the information a certain way, that doesn't mean that they're correct. especially in the case of Nate, who is going through a trauma of his own in the course of this chapter.

and, there are many ends to this mean beyond Rufus donating blood specifically for Dan. In my head, I can Rufus asking to do this simply because his child is in mortal danger and he feels he has to Do Something about it, even though logically he can't. and, a hospital staffer might encourage a guy like Rufus to donate because it keeps him from roaming around the hospital trying to find his son or keeps him from shouting at personnel to get information.

I appreciate you sharing this with me! and I am a chronic overthinker, so there are reasons for why this fic is taking shape in the way it does, I just....I am not sure. how well that may or not come across, because I am flexing a lot of writing muscles that I haven't flexed before, so I am very fragile and nervous about sharing it, but I appreciate you reaching out and being kind in the ask box. <333

tldr: I know I'm probably wrong, but I have reasons why!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking someone not to make my art about a ship I hate?

This happened a couple months ago, but I’m still kinda unsure if I handled it correctly.

Basic rundown of events: I posted some art of a character on their own in the evening, and when I woke up the next morning, someone had reblogged with an addition about a ship that’s a big notp for me. I messaged them to ask they delete it as politely as possible, because people had been interacting with that version of the post specifically and it made me uncomfortable. They responded by saying I was being immature and needed to learn not to police what other people do on the internet. We exchanged a couple more messages, and I tried to explain my position my throughly. Neither of us was overtly hostile or anything, but I felt extremely talked down to by their tone of voice. After our conversation, we both blocked each other, and that was that. They never did delete their addition.

Why I think I might be TA: we weren’t exactly friends or anything. Neither of us followed each other. I’d seen them around in the fandom, and they’d reblogged some of my art in the past, but I think messaging someone I didn’t know instead of just blocking them might have been a bit of an overreach. Plus the ship in question is canon, and not particularly controversial or anything, so most people in the fandom probably wouldn’t have minded.

On the other hand, the ship being so unavoidable is a big part of the reason it upset me so much. It’s hard for me to exist in this fandom without having to see it constantly, and I don’t even ever mention the other character in it for fear of this exact thing happening. I’ve had people be assholes on my posts about the ship I prefer, or go out of their way to interpret my romantic posts about them platonically, or add tags to my art about how they only like my ship as backstory and not endgame. I don’t want to have to put a disclaimer every single time I post about this fandom. I just want to enjoy the things I like without being negative all the time. Which is why I figured messaging privately was more polite than making a stink where everyone could see. I specifically mentioned that I knew they wouldn’t have known and wasn’t mad.

No one actually ended up reblogging their addition, which is also a strike against me, but I got a lot of likes on specifically that version of the post, which made me scared they were going to. I hated the idea of having to turn off reblogs on a piece I’d worked pretty fucking hard on because a version I found so upsetting was in circulation. If it was just tags, I’d have blocked, but it being an addition is different. I don’t think asking people not to make my posts about it is “policing what other people do on the internet”. You’re in MY house, on MY post with MY art I spent hours on. Making additions to art posts already seems somewhat rude to me, that’s just not something you do, but I guess that’s a matter of the corner of tumblr culture you’re used it.

Also, their response felt very aggressive and condescending. They implied I was, like, a kid, and I do think I’m somewhat younger than them, but the only information about my age in my bio at the time was that I’m an adult, so it felt like a rude assumption. My age doesn’t have anything to do with it.

Again, though, I do absolutely see how my initial message could read as entitled. During the rest of our messaging, I did lose my temper a little bit at one point; I said something about how I’ve had to deal with shit in this fandom before, and I don’t remember the exact words since, again, we both blocked each other, but I know I swore at them. That might’ve come across as more aggressive than I wanted, and probably didn’t exactly help deescalate. (Can’t say for sure, I don’t have their side of the story)

Like I said, this situation was a bit ago now, but it upset me pretty bad at the time, and I’m still not entirely sure who’s in the wrong. So, AITA?

(Also to get ahead of this: please don’t make this about shipcourse in the comments. It’s not about that. They and I have similar opinions on that discourse from what I’ve gathered anyway. Thanks.)

What are these acronyms?

[oxittocin]

Oxittocin I have a request ,

If you could write robin thinking lewd and naughty stuff about Male reader while she is reading a book in the library or aquarium, the he enters the room out nowhere and she is flustered, please...

-

lust (nico robin x reader)

nico robin masterlist

a very big salute to all the smut writers out there because shit's hard to write. here you go, anon - writing anything mildly suggestive already makes me blush, so i hope this is all right.

cw: male!reader, nsfw (mdni!)

It wasn’t that the book was boring.

No, in fact, it’s one of the better journals she’d picked up in the last few weeks, which made this a million times more infuriating. That, even in the haven that was her library, she continues to be distracted. Her mind constantly wanders off to another daydream mid-sentence, struggling to form a single coherent thought for the past 15 pages that she’d skimmed through.

Resigning to the fact that she wasn’t in an ideal state to catch up on her readings, she gingerly shut the book and pushed it aside. Pinching the bridge of her nose, a frustrated sigh left her lips. As much as she hated to admit it, Nico Robin was in quite the predicament. How she wished that anything - anything at all - could offer some semblance of reprieve from the stupid, stupid thoughts that had been plaguing her mind.

It started as a mere observation. A simple, harmless one, really.

You were always so, so shy around her. Fidgeting. Averting her gaze. Faint blush that coloured your cheeks. The soft, gentle tone you used with her and only her.

Initially, she’d attributed your reactions to the hesitancy from meeting someone new on the crew. But, it seemed that the longer she’s known you, the shyer you got around her.

A shyness so polite and kind that she found it cute. Adorable, even. A tiny smile graced her lips as she found the right word. Endearing. You were endearing. In your clumsiness that exuded sincerity, in your quiet shyness that ultimately rendered her powerless to do anything but to give you her attention.

It might embarrass her a little to admit it, but there were days where she’d watch you from the upper deck, lowering the book just barely, just enough to watch you busy yourself around the ship. Bantering with Nami and Sanji, being up to your usual troublemaking antics with Luffy, working out with Zoro, or pranking Chopper with Usopp. Watching you started out as a form of entertainment for Robin. Over time, it started to intrigue her how unassumingly charming you could be. Infectious smile that elicited similar grins from the rest of the crew and your hopeful optimism that remains a steady anchor amidst the most relentless storms. It drew her to you.

What started out as an observation has escalated to a point of eliciting visceral reactions from Robin. Didn’t matter whether you were around or not. Just thinking of you made her feel…

She shook her head. No, not now, not tonight. The only thing she could do to cope with these dumb, pressing thoughts was her nightly ritual of indulging in her fantasies to finally get you off her mind. Though the sky had already turned considerably dark, she could still hear muffled chattering from outside the library. There’s no way that she could do it now. Squeezing her thighs together, she willed herself to think about anything else - anything other than you and the things she wanted to do to you.

Her mind has plans of its own, though, because every effort to redirect her thoughts elsewhere seemed to lead her right back to you.

To how handsome you would look, wearing your typical shy expression as you begged to be between her thighs. She wondered how your shyness would translate in the bedroom, and if you’d still look so bashful when railing her from behind or pulling her hair. You’d probably be so soft, so gentle. She imagine you’d kneel before her, head hanging low as you forced yourself to croak out a “please, Robin” while avoiding her eye contact. It wouldn’t be enough for her. She wants to hear you whimper. She needs the neediness and desperation dripping from your voice as you begged her for just one chance to taste her. She’d say “no” and tell you that you have to earn the right to touch her. You’d turn into a whiny mess. Pre-cum glistening on your twitching cock, gazing upon her with an expression of pure lust and adoration. She’d enjoy turning you into a whiny mess with the things she would do to tease you.

She had a few ideas. Stripping you down. Having you stroke your own cock as you sunk to your knees in front of her, fully aware of how much more pleasurable it would be to have her and her hands jerking you off instead. She'd watch on amused, cocky smile on her face as she sees how pink your ears are from the embarrassment that her gaze elicits. You’d bite your tongue to stop yourself from moaning so wantonly in front of her, but you both know that you’d fail. You’d moan anyway.

Or perhaps, she would tie you down to the sofa and make you watch as she touches herself, spreading her legs further apart to give you a better view of her pretty cunt. You would watch her thrust her fingers in and out of her pussy while summoning another hand to rub at her clit. Coating her fingers with her own slick, she’d shove them between your lips as your tongue sucks on and laps at her fingers, melting at the taste of her sweetness. She’d see how you involuntarily buckle your hips and she’d giggle, teasing you in soft whispers. She'd tell you how obviously you were showing how much you wanted her. She’d tell you to have more decorum as she pushes you against the sofa and sinks down onto your cock. She'd feel her body trembling as she moves up and down your cock, watching your cock disappear completely, enveloped into her body and filling her up as she grinds against your hips.

This wasn’t even half of what she wanted to do to you, but it was difficult to even indulge in her fantasies when her pussy was throbbing. Aching to be touched and begging to be filled.

Screw it, she thought, no one would come into the library this late anyway.

Reaching to pull the gusset of her panties to the side, she gently ran a finger over her own slit, feeling the extent of her arousal. Sliding two fingers inside herself, she let out an audible moan - one that was a little too loud for her liking. Still, the build-up had since taken precedence over everything else. Her other hand sliding under her clothes to gently knead at her breasts as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of her cunt.

Perhaps it was the haze of the moment, the momentary folly of not locking the library’s door, coupled with the sounds of her own moans overshadowing everything else that had led to this moment. Completely lost in her own pleasure, Robin had missed the warning that came in the creaking of the opening door as you entered the library.

It was only until you said, “Robin?” had she snapped herself out of her current preoccupation as her gaze met yours.

She was in a compromising position. Yet, any hint of surprise and shock on her end was masterfully hidden within seconds, save for the rosy flush that remains on her cheeks.

With a wave of her hand, you felt a push on your back as you stumbled closer towards Robin. Reaching out a hand to cup your cheeks tenderly, she pulled you closer, gaze meeting yours in a confident, cheeky grin. Her sultry voice had a hint of breathlessness as she teased you, “Ah, it seems that you have found me. Would you care to join me tonight?”

[l0vergirlv0mit]

Before Today

Inspired by: Before Today by Everything But The Girl

Pairing: college!Hazel Callahan X reader

Summary: You just can’t get over your ex and frequently confide in your best friend Isabel. This leads her to pulls some strings to try and make her best friend happy again…

Warnings: 18+ mdni, kinda toxic!reader (if you squint), breaking up, fingering, oral r!reciving,

Authors notes: first time writing so it prob sucks. It was super fun to write though. Thanks for reading <3

3 months. That’s how long it’s been since the start of you and Hazels no contact agreement. You decided you couldn’t be her friend after your break up. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being her friend and watching her give her attention to another girl. You wanted the feelings to go away but they never did.

But now you stare at your phone feeling your whole body go numb with fear. Your finger lingers over the unblock button.

You still haven’t been able to get over the way her hands felt when she’d hold your face and call you pretty. The way her laugh rang in your ears when you made a joke sending a wave of pride to your chest .The way her lips felt on your neck, whispering how much she wanted you.

You had to set your phone down to slow your breathing, your eyes filled with tears. Thinking back to when it all fell apart. It was completely your fault.

You couldn’t stop the self destructive chain of events that night. You had a fight that completely blew up in your face. You were looking for a fight wanting to give reason to the emotions you were feeling. You had been upset over reason outside of your relationship and just couldn’t let yourself be happy.

—

“Are you seriously bringing this up again.” Hazel looked at you with no expression she was tired, very tired, leaned over the counter with her face in her hands. “Well yeah I mean you flirted with her in front of my fucking face HAZEL. Like am I just supposed to get over that.” Your tone full of venom. “I told you a million fucking times I wasn’t flirting with her I was ACTUALLY politely telling her I have a girlfriend. So yeah get the fuck over it.” She replies your eyebrows furrow. “Ohhh yeah that’s why you we’re laughing at everything she said, should’ve twirled your hair and kicked your feet while you were at it.”

She rolled her eyes and stood up walking over to you. She got within a couple inches of your face looking down at you slightly. “What’s your goal here huh?” She spoke in a soft deep voice. “Is this your fucked up way of pushing me away? You don’t wanna be with me?” She bumps your chest with her finger and it makes you unbelievably angry.

“Maybe I don’t.” You didn’t even mean it but it was too late to take it back. Without another word she picked up her jacket she left on your settee and ran out of the door. Slamming it so hard the wall shook.

—

You had met up to talk about the fight the day after it had happened deciding it was best to put the relationship on “pause”. Trying to keep it as civil as possible given your mutual friends and inability to hate her.

You had heard about her going out with girl after girl from Isabel. You knew it was her way to fill the void you tried doing the same at the start but got to frustrated deciding on studying 24/7 instead.

Josie and Isabel were you and Hazels informants for each other without either of you knowing. Giving you unsolicited updates when either of you had called in tears over how much you missed one another.

The thought of her going out with so many different girls got to you even when Isabel would call the girls ugly to make you feel better. It especially hurt when you found yourself scrolling through the folder of photos you kept of dates and pictures of her. You couldn’t bring yourself to delete it. Pictures of her trying to stop smiling long enough to kiss you. Those destroyed you.

You pick your phone up again and unblock her turning your brain off for as long as you can. You noticed she didn’t have you blocked and you followed her again. Trying to do these actions as fast as possible to not let the anxiety strangle you. Letting out the biggest exhale you could you turn your phone off and go to bed.

————————————————————————

Hazel had followed you back by the next morning but nothing else came of it. Of course this had you ecstatic but you couldn’t bring yourself to fully make contact. A week later Isabel had invited you out to a party with full knowledge that Hazel was going to be there.

“Y/n what are you gonna wear to the party tomorrow?” She texted you. You sent her a photo of a tiny black skirt, a band tee shirt you had cut into a tank top, and your black boots. “Yeah that’ll work.” Is all she said back. You sent “???” But she never replied.

You got ready for the party putting your 90’s smokey eye on and styling your hair to perfection. You put on your most expensive perfume. Staring at yourself in your full length mirror admiring yourself in the new set you bought from Victoria secret it was lacy and red. You were determined to get laid tonight. Finishing getting dressed in clothes that didn’t give you much more coverage than the set did you hear a “ding” from your phone,

Isabel: here

Josie and Isabel pulled up to your place. You came down the stairs of your apartment complex. And basically hop over to the car. “Hey hot stuff.” Josie said wiggling her eyebrow talking to you through the open window. “Yeah just so you know we’re looking for a third.” Isabel joked looking you up and down. You giggle and slide into the back seat. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” You give both girls a kiss on there cheeks. “You guys are gonna be the hottest couple at this party.” Josie and Isabel give each other a look you couldn’t quite understand. “Doubt it.” Is all Josie said before driving. Isabel smiled at this remark confusing you.

The 3 of you had gotten out of the car walking up to the frat house the party was at. “I’m so happy you agreed to go out with us tonight.” Isabel beams at you. “Yeah all you do is study y/n you better go crazy tonight.” Josie says looking at you slyly. You laugh as you reach the front door.

You all walk inside and see PJ and Britney talking in a corner. Josie walks up to them first “Heyyyy PJ you wanna get a drink with me?” Josie takes the poor girl over to the bar. You and Isabel then go to join Britney. “Her dedication is impressive honestly.” You say to Britney and she nods her head. “Oh very impressive.” She replied taking a big sip out of her red solo cup. You look over to the bar area and do a double take.

PJ and Josie are deep in conversation with Hazel. You feel all the confidence you had drain from your body. Hazel feels your eyes on her and makes eye contact with you. You look away quickly feeling very naked in your tank top and too tiny skirt. Hazel can’t help but stare at you. The way your outfit was hugging you in the just the right places and your hair framing your face so perfectly. It made her unbelievably needy.

You wait till they leave the bar and go outside by the pool to go get yourself a drink. You feel hazels glances until they’re completely outside. You down 2 shots back to back immediately and smile coyly at a worried looking Isabel, she’s starting to regret her decision to play parent trap.

—

“Go talk to them.” Josie spoke softly to Hazel “I can’t I mean what would I even say.” Hazel huffs as she swirled her vodka strawberry lemonade around staring at it like it would turn into a portal and take her anywhere but here. “Oh I don’t know Hazel! Maybe “I miss you so much y/n that I cried during not 1 but 3 hook ups.”” Hazel just stared at Josie with her mouth open hoping no one was over hearing their conversation. “Ok I’m sorry-“ Josie started but Hazel threw her cup down and started walking furiously into the house to find you. Josie laughed in surprise that that actually worked.

You were still at the bar making yourself the strongest cocktail known to man. When you feel someone’s presence to the side of you looking up casually with a smile already feeling tipsy. Your eyes grow wide and smile falls realizing who was in front of you. “Oh.” You felt like a fucking bumbling idiot. She looked amazing her hair slightly pushed out of her face. She had on baggy jeans, a cropped green plaid button up, and adidas. The way her small chains rest at the base of her neck makes your heart skip.

“Hey h-how have you been.” Hazel asks rubbing the back of her neck looking you up and down mindlessly. “I’ve been good h-how have you been.” You try to keep it together even though you feel your heart sinking even deeper into your chest. “I miss you… like a lot.” She couldn’t keep it in anymore. She gives you a desperate look. It nearly takes your breath away you stare at her in disbelief. She looked like a sick puppy. “Can we go somewhere more private please?” She pleaded and you nod, she takes your hand hesitantly and leads you upstairs to an empty room.

Josie and Isabel watched you disappear to the second floor “let’s fucking go.” Josie says and they high five each other.

Hazel closed the door behind you and locked it. You turn to face her, looking each other in the eyes deeply. She rubs her sweaty hands on her pants and goes past you to sit on the bed. You go to sit next to her. “You look beautiful.” She spoke softly trying to be as un intimidating as possible. “So do you.” You both stare at each other not knowing what else to say.

“I miss you so much Hazel, it hurts.” You finally huffed and pouted starting to feel embarrassed at the familiar burn you were getting in your throat. Your eyes becoming glazed and heavy. Trying your best not to let out 3 months of self hatred and sadness. You looked down at nothing feeling defeated.

Hazel broke, grabbing your face with both hands to meet your eyes again then pulled you into a heated urgent kiss. It turned into a frenzied make out. Both pair of hands grasping and pulling and caressing. She pulled away just enough to whisper. “Fuck I missed you so much.” Then her lips were on you again. You grab at her shoulders grounding yourself. She pulls back once more. “I missed your lips-” You grab her by the collar not able to contain how needy you are for her. “nn-h!” you swing your leg over her lap to straddle her. Her hands strongly grip your hips just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

You grip onto her hair tugging her back, eyes flicking over her blushed face. You start kissing her neck feverishly. Her breathing picks up and her exhales are heavy. “You feel so good y/n.” You go to unbutton her shirt but Hazel flips you onto your back. She grabs your wrist pinning you and bring her knee against your heat. You let out a high pitched whimper.

Your skirt rides up revealing your red lace thong. Hazel takes notice her face becoming more dark and focused. “These are new.” She presses her thumb to your clothed clit. This elicits a breathless moan not expecting her actions.

Your face turns a deep shade of red when she starts kneeling between your legs. She leaves a trail of kisses starting at the top of your knee. Your fingers running through her hair making her hum into your softly skin. Hazel makes her way to your inner thigh kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin.

She sucks hard released the plush skin with a pop, leaving behind a burgundy bruise. She peeks at you through her lashes, the sight forever burned in her mind. Your mouth slightly open, eyes half lided and chest heaving it’s the prettiest thing she’s ever seen.

She focuses again nudging your clothed clit with her nose. You grip her hair harder to encourage her, and that was all she needed. She pushed your panties to the side and licked a long stripe up your cunt. You got shivers all over your body. She devours you like she’s never taste anything so good in her life. You contract around nothing as her finger ghost up and down your slit teasing you to no end.

“M-more please Hazel?” You practically beg her “Of course baby.” She comes up to smile at you and ads 2 fingers into your hole hitting just the right spot to make your eyes roll back, just like she used to do.

“Oh baby likes that huh.” She smiles to herself then goes back to abusing your clit with her mouth. Hazel used her other hand to pull your shirt up for her own pleasure and palmed your tits. Your lacy red bra excited her even more than she already was.

You felt your orgasm creeping, getting frustrated it was so soon you wanted this to last forever. “Hazel I’m gonna- ‘m s-so close Hazel.” Shes kept her brutal pace till your back arched and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “That’s it pretty girl just like that. So pretty so fucking pretty.” Hazel mumbles softly to you bringing you through your orgasm. Body shaking until you rode your high to completion.

“I missed this.” You say with a giggle steadying your breath. Hazel pulls your panties back into place and lays next to you. She grabs your face and pulls you into a slow deep kiss. “Not as much as me.” Her wide smile tells you all you need to know. Resting her hand on your face she takes in your features. She uses her thumb to wipe some of your smudged lipstick. “You wanna go back to mine?” You ask her shyly. Then laughing when you notice her equally smudged lips. “I would want nothing more.” Hazel gets up and offers you her hand helping you up.

You both walk down stairs hand and hand. Josie, Isabel, PJ and Britney have been absolutely losing it for the 15 minutes you were away. “Oh my god.” Is all Britney said see the both of you holding hands all of them turned to gawk at you.

Hazel makes a detour to the bar grabbing 2 beers with one hand for when you get back to your apartment. She had you lipstick smudged on her face and neck wearing it like a trophy. Hazel nods at the group then opens the door for you. You give Isabel and Josie a wave, grinning ear to ear, you walk out of the house with your hair a complete mess in the back. They can’t help but to laugh at the display of shamelessness.

It was going to be a very long night.

[pagesfromthevoid]

Covered in You | b.b.

Bucky Barnes x fem!superpowered!reader

“My house of stone, your ivy grows. And now I'm covered in you."

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: Listen. Idk.

Read on AO3 | Talk to Me! | Masterlist

“Bucky!”

He froze in the produce section of the grocery store, frowning when he heard his name. It was a normal reaction for him; paranoid to be addressed or attacked in public. But he was relieved, though did not relax at all, when she started running through the aisle to reach him. 

“Bucky! It’s me!” She exclaimed as she got closer, throwing her arms around him. 

He didn’t return the gesture, put off by the sudden physical contact. Bucky pushed himself away, giving an uncomfortable smile as he did. It was better this way; not giving anyone any reason to get attached. Though she didn’t seem thrown off by his rejection of her hug. 

“How have you been? Are you okay?” She asked, looking him over. 

The last time they’d seen each other was when Steve…well, when he left. Though Bucky wasn’t sure why she cared that much. The two weren’t friends; she was closer with Wanda and Steve than she was with him. The only interactions they had were in Germany, and very briefly in Wakanda. Though based on how she smiled at him, she didn’t care about that. 

“I’m fine,” he replied, tone short and to the point. “You?”

He hated small talk. 

“Oh I’m good. I got my job back at the library. Kinda weird being a superhero and needing a day job but it’s okay. I’m okay.” Bucky noted she certainly didn’t sound okay, but that wasn’t really his problem. “Have you heard from Wanda? I can’t get a hold of her, and I’ve been trying to. I’m just worried and I was just thinking about you the other day too so it’s funny —“

“I can’t really talk right now.”

“Oh.” She stared at him for a moment, looking around them as she realized he was uncomfortable. Then she turned red in the face, nodding some. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I didn’t mean to bombard you. Maybe we can meet for drinks some time.”

“No, thank you,” he responded politely, looking down then back up —anywhere but her. “I appreciate the offer, but I think it’s best if I stick to myself.”

He moved to step around her, gripping the hand of his basket tighter. While he did appreciate the offer —it was hard not to when she was so excited to see him —Bucky had little desire to be social or make friends. It just wasn’t something that seemed to be in the cards for him. Besides, he had a laundry list of things to make up for, and that left little time for friends. 

“Sam says you don’t return his calls.” 

Bucky stopped mid step, frowning deeply as he glanced over his shoulder at her. She was holding her basket in front of her, brow furrowed. “I never called, I figured you didn’t really know me so that’d be weird.”

“Weirder than yelling at me from across a grocery store?” He cracked a small grin, unable to help himself. Though it disappeared as she kept speaking.

“Listen, I know you think you should be alone because of the whole Winter Soldier thing —but you don’t have to be. Just…I don’t know, answer Sam’s calls. Or be ready for me to call you every day.”

She gave him a promising smile —a guarantee that she was going to call him regardless —and turned on her heel to leave. Bucky stared at her as she walked away, brow furrowed as he processed what had just happened. In the short time he had known her —probably a total of four months if you put it all together —he never really spoke to her. When he did, it was short and to the point, usually serious or “it’s the end of the world” conversations. 

This was probably the most normal conversation he’d ever had with her. Which was a bit depressing to think about, but refreshing to know that she was normal before all of this —that she could go back to whatever she was before everything. 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he felt normal. 

                                                *****

As promised, she called the next day. 

And the day after that. 

And the next day too. 

She called everyday, as promised, for about a week. And every day, Bucky sent her straight to voicemail. He had to give her credit —she was a woman of her word. She called every day, at different times. As if he would answer if she called at 1:45 instead of 12:30. And her voicemails never sounded like she was annoyed when he didn’t pick up, even after the seventh message left. 

“Hey, Bucky! I know I’ve invited you out every day this week, and I know you don’t want to but that’s okay!” Her voice was cheery; excited for whatever she was about to propose. “Tomorrow is the opening of the community garden at the library. This is less going out and socializing and more supporting the neighborhood so maybe that would be better for you. If you want to lurk in the background of photos, you have to call me back for the time!”

He was almost offended by the lurking comment, however she was technically right. Even if he did go, that’s all he would do: lurk. Avoid attention. But she hit him with a significantly more annoying dilemma: he kind of wanted to go to the library to see the garden. He walked by it every so often, and he liked seeing how much progress was being made to set it up. Bucky just hadn’t realized she was the one doing it. Though, he supposed it made sense given her powers. 

Huffing in frustration, Bucky ran a gloved hand over his face. Then he hit the call button; it rang once. 

“I knew the garden would be the better choice!” 

“I can just look up the time online,” he reminded her, rolling his eyes. 

“I didn’t know you could use a computer,” she teased, and Bucky could picture the grin on her face. “It starts at noon, but I’ll be there all morning if you want to come by before everyone else is there. You know, avoid the absolutely massive crowd that will come to a public library garden.”

He couldn’t help himself as he chuckled, scratching at his chin lightly. “Is this an actual event or is this just something you’re doing on your own?”

“We’re a bit short staffed so there wasn’t a lot of time to advertise,” she explained, and for the first time that week, she sounded a bit defeated. “So the only people who will probably be there are the gardeners, me, and you.”

He didn’t like how dejected she sounded, honestly. “You’re making me feel like I have to come now.”

“I mean you don’t have to —but I’d really like it if you did.”

Bucky hesitated before sighing. “Okay, yeah. I’ll be there for a little while.”

She let out an excited sound, and Bucky could hear her clapping her hands together through the phone. “Yes! Awesome! You won’t regret it, Bucky, I promise. You’re going to have so much fun, it’ll be so nice. I can order lunch to be delivered —“

“Let’s just…let’s just play it by ear, okay?”

“Oh, right. Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bucky!”

He stared at his phone, taking a breath. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

                                          *****

The last time he had come to the library, it had been in 1941. Steve had signed them up for an art class, and convinced Bucky it would be a good place to meet people. Steve had been right; Bucky left with a list of dates set up. 

But this was different.

Obviously it was different. It wasn’t the forties, it wasn’t the middle of a world war. He wasn’t just some guy, flirting with pretty people. He was a former assassin, with a metal arm and more trauma than any one person should carry. But then, he was going to a community event hosted by someone who’s fought alongside him before. Whose life is just as strange as his —maybe a little less, but still weird. 

It was a little after eleven when Bucky stopped at the steps of the library. A sign on the door —written in a very pretty cursive and covered in flowers and vines —said to walk through to the back doors and “watch for resident bees.” There was a little bee and hive drawn beside it. Something told Bucky she was the one who drew it.

Following instructions, he slipped into the library quietly. There weren’t many people there for a Saturday; a few kids with their parents. Some older people —younger than him, technically —and a handful of people using the computers. An older gentleman glanced up from the shelf he was at, standing up a bit straighter when he saw Bucky. He nodded once as the man saluted —and that’s when Bucky noticed the man was in the World War II section. 

He quickly beelined for the back door without a word. No one should be saluting him. 

As he pushed the door open and slid outside, he heard people chatting idly. He waited to the side, peering into the garden from the walkway outside the library. Sitting in the dirt was her, with her hair thrown up out of her face and dirt covering her shorts and hands. A bright smile was on her face though as she spoke to two older women, who had gardening tools and far less dirt on them. 

“It’s amazing, you know,” one lady commented, voice soft. “When you said you were going to start a community garden —well, I thought you meant you were going to grow it all yourself.”

“I considered it,” she admitted, running her hands over her thighs. “But what’s a community garden if the community isn’t involved? I just…kept it alive.”

“And we appreciate that so much,” the other woman assured, setting her tools down. “It reminds me of the garden we set up when I was a little girl, during the war.”

Bucky swallowed hard, frowning deeply as she stood up. His hands gripped of the railing of the sidewalk, trying to calm his nerves. He wondered if she would mention him coming to see the garden; he hoped she wouldn’t. 

“Well, the good thing about this garden is that it’s not necessary to survive. It’s just nice to have.”

He let out a sigh of relief, though his grip on the rail did not loosen. Without realizing it, unfortunately, it crunched between his fingers with an awful sound. All three women looked up at the sound, with the older two looking horrified and her smiling brightly at him. 

“Bucky, you actually came!” She exclaimed, dusting the dirt off her hands one more time before running up the stairs to greet him. She paused, looking at the railing with a reassuring smile. “We needed to replace that anyway. Thanks for making it a little cheaper to do.”

He opened his mouth to apologize but snapped it shut, giving her a small smile and a nod. “Uh, yeah, of course.”

Glancing down, Bucky felt the back of his neck heat up from embarrassment. What happened to the overly confident, charming guy he used to be? Why couldn’t he play it cool suddenly? 

“Are you barefoot?” He asked suddenly, changing the subject. 

She looked at her feet, wiggling her toes some. “Oh, yeah. I always garden barefoot. The more in touch with the earth I am, the better I work. Wanna see?”

She held her hand out to him, bright smile never fading even as he hesitated. When he didn’t take it, she reached for his wrist and pulled him along anyway. Bucky didn’t resist her as she pulled him into the garden. 

“Ladies, this is Sergeant James Barnes,” she introduced, dropping his wrist. Though she kept close, as if shielding him from their stares. 

Both ladies quietly introduced themselves, though they didn’t seem surprised by him anymore. Actually, they seemed impressed as they looked between the two with little grins. 

“Just Bucky,” he quickly corrected. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Oh the pleasure is all ours, sweetheart,” Delilah, the one with the ration garden, commented. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Not from me,” she quickly assured him, looking up at him. “I mean a little bit from me, but they’re the ones who have told me about you and the Howling Commandos and —“

“Hey, it’s okay,” he interrupted, smiling tensely down at her. 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Clara, the other woman, teased. “He knows he’s famous.”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, looking around the garden for a moment. Famous was a strange way to describe him. Maybe infamous —he did more harm than good as far as he was concerned. But neither Delilah nor Clara seemed to care about what he did after the war. 

“Clara, I just remembered —we need to go trim the leaves on the tomatoes.” Delilah elbowed her friend, grinning over at her.

“Oh, right. We do! We’ll see you in a little while, kids.”

Both ladies waved and hurried off to a corner of the garden that was a bit more obscured. Bucky watched them for a moment before turning back to her as she let out a sheepish laugh. He raised a brow as she ran a hand over her hair. 

“Those two are so gossipy,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Sorry about that. Delilah is basically my grandma. She, like, unofficially adopted me when I first started working here.”

“That’s nice,” and he meant that. It was nice. Though he didn’t know what else to say. “You were going to show me something?”

“Oh! Right!” 

She turned around a few times, looking around for an empty space. Then she motioned for him to follow her to an empty plot, where she dropped to her knees in the dirt. Bucky stood above her, hands moving to settle in his jacket pockets as she scooped up a handful of soil. 

“Tony used to call me an earth bender —like from the tv show, but I don’t think that’s super accurate because earth benders just control materials from the earth, not make them grow,” she explained, pushing the dirt back into the ground. “Dr. Banner calls it arborkinesis. Which sounds cool, I guess but a little too supervillain-esque for me. I just tell people I have a green thumb…Come closer, will you?”

Bucky hesitated; he hadn’t seen her abilities up close before. He’d seen it in action —in Germany, in Wakanda, and at the compound against Thanos. But never nearby. It was always just something he witnessed in passing; too busy to properly stand and watch her work. But she was genuinely happy to show him, and he’d left his comfort zone already today so he kneeled beside her. 

His attention was focused on her hands as she reached for his. Bucky almost pulled away, but stopped and allowed her to bring his hands together in front of her. Then, she scooped the soil back up and put it in his hands. Brow furrowing, he watched in confusion as she covered his hands with her own. And he almost pulled back again as he felt the dirt moving and something pushing between his fingers –but she held him in place with a reassuring smile. 

As she pulled away, ivy began sprouting up from the dirt and slowly creeped its way up his arm like a snake. Bucky watched it grow, covering his sleeve with vines and emerald green leaves. The vine wrapped around his arm and stopped just below his shoulder before flowers popped open in bright pink hues. He couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face as he looked over his arm, admiring the flowers that contrasted with the dark colors of his jacket. 

She pushed up off the ground, extending her hand to him with that same bright smile that hadn’t faded. With the hand that wasn’t covered in vines, he took hers and stood, allowing her to guide him to a trellis that leaned against the fence. She took his ivy covered hand and lifted it, resting it against the stand there. Her free hand lifted, and the vines that wrapped around his arm uncurled and moved to a better home on the trellis. When all the ivy found its new home, Bucky dropped his hand and admired her handiwork, smiling even more now.

“When people think of superpowers, a lot of them think of superheroes, the Avengers. But…I don’t know, I was never much of a superhero. But I’ve always been a gardener,” she explained, looking over the flowers now. She touched the petals carefully. 

“You helped save the universe,” he reminded her, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye. “Maybe give yourself a little credit.”

“I will when you do,” she countered, meeting his eyes with a sly grin.

Bucky’s mouth snapped shut, and he narrowed his eyes at her. He walked right into that, didn’t he? They stood there for a moment, their attention supposedly on the flowers but really, it was on each other. He wanted to thank her –for inviting him, for pestering him until he finally accepted. But as he turned to do so, her name was called from across the garden and she turned, lighting up as a handful of people gathered outside the gate. 

“Oh, I guess I should get ready to officially open the garden!” 

Bucky nodded, smiling down at her as he stepped out of the garden bed with her. She looked up at him with another smile, resting her hand on his arm gently. “Thank you for coming by today, Bucky. It means a lot to me; I hope you liked it.”

“I did. Really.”

He decided he’d thank her later –over a drink and some food. It was the least he could do.

———

Part Two

[moviemunchies]

I’m struggling to come up with a coherent review, but I’m going to do my best!

You guys probably know by now that I’m a big fan of animation that pushes itself out of the usual styles. And while it’s been ages since I read the original comic, I was eager to see it adapted into animated form.

In a science-fantasy kingdom, run by the Institute, Ballister Boldhart, a commoner who would be a knight, is framed for murder and is branded a villain by the media. He only wants to clear his name and get back with the kingdom’s champion, but the young (or is she?!?) shapeshifter Nimona attaches herself to him as his villainous sidekick. Together they uncover the conspiracy to frame him, as well as reveal more of Nimona’s own history and how it ties to the history of the kingdom.

The film has gotten a lot of attention for its queer content. See, it was originally being produced by Blue Sky Studios (and employees of the studio are listed in the credits), which was owned by Fox. Which was then bought by Disney. They shut down the studio, deciding that having ANOTHER animation studio open wouldn’t be worth the effort and money, and eventually shut down production on this movie, despite it being over halfway done. Annapurna Pictures picked it up and finished the movie, keeping a lot of the already-completed work. More than one source from Blue Sky claims that Disney’s executives were very hard on this movie for featuring a same-sex kiss and LGBT themes, so they locked it down.

Welp it released on Netflix anyway!

I’ve seen quite a few sites and articles refer to Nimona as having “queer subtext.” I suppose that’s not wrong, but in this case I’d argue that the subtext is so heavy it might as well just be considered text. I mean yes, there’s the fact that Ballister is in love with a man, and his happy ending is getting together with him, but that’s just kind of the tip of the iceberg. Nimona’s a shapeshifter, who says she doesn’t feel alive if she can’t change her shape, she refuses to answer the question of “What are you?” other than with “I’m Nimona,” and has an entire society label her an unnatural monster. Heck, the villain declares that she is “a threat to our way of life.” 

It doesn’t really get more heavy-handed than that. I want to be clear that “heavy-handed” doesn’t mean “bad”; I wouldn’t say it’s bad here. “Heavy-handed” is only bad when it’s badly done. But any adult watching the film is going to pick up on what the movie’s saying. It’s not subtle. In a world though that seems to have increasing calls for violence by political players towards people they hate, I think the message of “Don’t demonize people and call for their execution for being different,” is an okay thing for a movie to be preaching.

One thing (if I remember correctly) about the comic I found a bit jarring (but not bad) was the tone shift in the story. It’s fairly light, a parody of superhero/villain stories, until we get to the end and Nimona’s backstory, where it feels very, VERY dark. The movie has a similar tone shift, but I think it handles it better overall. This does not mean the movie’s better than the comic, settle down People Angry About the Idea of Adaptation. I just mean that I think this one aspect is handled better.

I do also like the resolution better! But I don’t want to spoil it. So I’ll leave it at that.

The animation here is an absolute delight. It seems like Into the Spider-Verse opened the floodgates for all kinds of different styles to be tried out in movies. It’s colorful, but limited to a certain range. It’s memorable, and sticks out from other animated movies. Characters can look like cartoons but not look like the same cartoons that we see in a bunch of animated films. It’s fantastic. I know I always bang on about how much I love unique animation but I still love seeing it.

The voice cast is outstanding. Riz Ahmed is able to wring a ton of emotion out of the role of Ballister, while also having fun with him playing the straight man (comedy term! I know Ballister’s not straight) against Nimona. Ahmed’s clearly not having anywhere near as much fun as Chloe Grace-Moretz. Yeah, she gives a great, emotional performance at times, but she’s having an absolute blast in the moments when Nimona is causing havoc in the kingdom. 

I will admit that I was a little disappointed that the “I’m a shark!” line didn’t get more mileage in the movie; it was a running joke in the comic, and I would have liked to have seen it used more here.

Nimona is, overall, very good. Part of me is just happy to see that this finally made it to being a movie, after so many setbacks. If you’re interested in animation, you’ll probably love seeing how this one plays out. You’ll also enjoy this if you’re a fan of the comic, though I suppose there might be someone more familiar than me objects to the changes made in adaptation. I don’t think it’ll present too much of a stumbling block, though.

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: AIC 31

Aiko was reading a missive from Nadeshiko requesting an in-person conversation when her apprentice sullenly appeared. She did not look up at the sound of shifting sand. If she didn't see it, she didn't have to vacuum. An unseen mess did not exist.

"The sand-nin have requested an audience."

'I'm going to guess that the reunion did not go smoothly.'

Aiko looked over at Gaara, and chose not to comment on how stiffly he'd bit that out. And then she was surprised to note that he had not been carelessly dropping sand. So he could control that, then? He had been choosing to leave grains in her carpet? Why? What the fuck? Did he hate her carpet? Was it that ugly?

"Yes," Sanbi said. "It gives me a headache."

'Fuck you. No one is making you look.'

She turned her attention back to her apprentice, who was still waiting on some kind of reaction. "Thank you, I can see them in about 2 minutes." She began clearing anything sensitive off of her desk and did a walk around the office, looking for anything out of place. Gaara reached out and pushed on a book, aligning the spine with the rest on the shelf.

"Is there anything I need to know to be prepared to meet with them?" she said, as bland as possible.

Gaara made a low sound from the back of his throat. It was not an acceptable answer. She deliberately chose to let it slide, because she wasn't totally heartless. But- "Stay here," she commanded. "For at least the first part of the meeting. I want to establish that we have a good working dynamic."

She seated herself back at her desk and surveyed the room one more time, confirming that it conveyed power and competency. Then she nodded to the door.

Tense, her apprentice went to pull open the heavy oak. "The Mizukage will see you now," he said, utterly without tone.

Temari was the first to stride through. Whatever her thoughts were, they had been neatly tucked away by the time that she passed into view. Kankuro nearly faltered, taking just an instant to long at the place where he wanted to veer around Gaara. Baki came last, implacable in his path as a train.

"Mizukage-sama." Temari's tone sounded like it was paired with a hand on her hip, not palms clasped in polite deference. "I see that you have a guest."

Aiko gave the girl an easy smile. "My apprentice?" she said, as though she didn't know how baffling and terrible that might seem from the outside. "Gaara is often present at high-level meetings. Would you prefer for him to leave?"

Temari paused before answering. "Of course not." The lie wasn't even obvious.

She inclined her head gracefully. "I wouldn't either," Aiko said, as though she was confiding something funny. "Gaara will know quite a bit about operations in Kirigakure when he returns home to Sunagakure. I assume that information may prove quite valuable, down the line."

There was a moment of shock, but Temari was too disciplined to let her eyes wander over to her youngest brother. She hesitated. "Mizukage-sama. Might I ask how he came into your tutelage?"

Aiko leaned back in her chair and thought, well, in for a penny. "When I removed him from the unpleasant kerfuffle in Konoha, I wondered if he might benefit from a mentor," she said, pleasant as anything. "As a fairly successful jinchuuriki, I thought I might be able to offer advice both personal and political." She deliberately turned her gaze to Gaara, so as to 'miss' the moment that her guests reacted to the shock of just what she was. None of them would have particularly warm and fuzzy feelings about being in a small room with a jinchuuriki, much less two of them. "But I must admit that it was Gaara who asked me to take him on as a student, to better prepare him for reintegration into Sunagakure."

Kankuro was working really hard not to gape. From where he stood at Temari's left shoulder, it would have been very obvious to sneak a glance at Gaara. Baki, on the other hand, did not even attempt stealth. He slowly turned his head to regard his former student for the length of two seconds, and then rotated his face back without changing expressions in the slightest.

"He is skeptical about Gaara's reintegration into civilized society after time under your tutelage?" Sanbi asked. "Why do they doubt you so? They do not know you yet. Perhaps you are a reasonable woman."

She resisted the urge to laugh wildly. Her influence was not exactly the problem, which was a hilariously bad state of affairs given how serious it was to have spent time with a foreign head of state.

"Temari-san, let's speak plainly." Aiko waved a hand, indolent as you please. She was kind of enjoying being top dog. It had to be killing Temari, proud as she was. "You're not here because of your little brother, but he has offered an excellent suggestion that will be of mutual benefit to both of our countries. Assuming that you have any desire to assume a leadership position, you are well-placed to agree to it, and therefore seize international legitimacy that would be difficult to subvert. Given that you answered my summons, may I assume that you have at least considered taking leadership?"

The teenager gritted her jaw. "Yes." She unstuck her teeth to try to sound a bit more pleasant, adding, "We may be able to come to some terms."

Aiko eyed the girl, marveling at the change in perspective. Temari had once been a peer, but Aiko had three ranks and about a decade on her now. Life was so odd sometimes.

Oh, wait.

"A genin is not going to become Kazekage," Aiko said, despite knowing that it really wasn't her place to comment on what had to be a contentious issue. She couldn't help but poke.

"I've been promoted to chuunin, and will stand for jounin exams in two months," Temari said evenly. "I received a combat promotion after my performance in Konohagakure." Her expression was mulish.

Oh, ouch. Politically speaking. Aiko let out a startled laugh. The Kazekage's daughter had gotten a combat promotion for actions against an ally. "Konoha can't like that." She clasped her hands and winked. Temari recoiled, startled. "Lovely. They're assholes. Kicking the nest is good once in a while."

Kankuro looked hopelessly lost. His sister was diplomatic enough not to respond to that.

"Some of them are alright," Aiko added, feeling the need to assure that she wasn't hostile to her allies. "I'm only thinking about murdering one of them, really. No one that they really need." She was half-thinking of Danzo. She needed to work on that. He was still out there, probably wondering where she had stashed Sai's corpse.

Temari's calm broke at that. She looked horrified and confused.

"I'm joking." Aiko made a disgusted sound and tapped the top of her desk. "None of you can take a joke. Where did you all learn to be so serious?"

"It is part of the Sunagakure Academy curriculum."

All three visitors' heads jerked to look at Gaara. Aiko feigned surprise and leaned forward. "Really?"

Gaara shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't go there."

"Ah, so that's why you're so funny."

"I assume so, yes." He cocked his head to the side. "Aiko-sama, might I return to my duties?"

She waved him off, feeling incredibly pleased with his thoughtfulness. He'd managed to do that very well, and forced his siblings to look at him in a new light. "Yes. On your way out, have Nishikawa send that note to Karin."

Gaara bowed and left, using the door. His siblings and even Baki looked shell-shocked. Aiko made sure to give them a very smug look, ready for the instant that they stopped gaping at the closed door and noticed her.

"Now he is just being ridiculous," Sanbi said, sounding disgusted. "He never does anything so conventional. I have always appreciated that about his comportment."

'Don't complain, it means that we don't have to vacuum sand while I still have guests. That does not convey power and grace. Even though I have a very nice new hand vacuum imported through Iron. I love that thing. Maybe I should show it to them, it would be a good way of casually showing off that our trade contracts are on point.'

Anyway. After seeing how Gaara acted reasonably and deferred to her, Suna would definitely not hold any misconceptions that she was anything less than competent. She'd done in a month what no one in Suna had ever managed to do.

Granted, the change was more on Gaara than her, but they didn't know that.

Aiko preened as Temari gathered her nerve again.

Up went her chin, back went her shoulders, and- "Mizukage-sama, what do you propose?"

Aiko tilted her head and smiled. "An alliance, cemented by an exchange of resources. Namely- we will host a number of Sunagakure's shinobi, and allow them to perform missions contracted to Kirigakure. Gaara will be in charge of the program, and we have constructed a housing unit for these shinobi."

Temari frowned. "Why would we do that? We would have to send our people to live among recent former enemies, performing missions in unfamiliar territory that is disadvantageous to our work-style."

"True, true," Aiko agreed. "But they'd be making the rates that Kirigakure shinobi get. Temari-san, your daimyo has been strangling your city. He arrogantly believes that he can do without your strength."

Temari was looking distinctly red.

She raised an eyebrow in provocation. "So far, he has succeeded in weakening Sunagakure. And no, Gaara did not tell me this," Aiko added, at the shock on Baki's face. "It is plain to see, especially since Sungakure was desperate enough to turn on their oldest ally. My country, however, has an inverse problem. We have a desirable reputation to the civilians of our country, and receive many missions requests that we do not have the personnel to fulfill. Failing to fulfill them would harm our reputation. The solution is obvious, and binds us together. It is a natural extension of an alliance, and would solidify it by creating goodwill and bonds between our shinobi as they work together."

A heavy, unfriendly silence hung over the room. As of yet, Temari did not seem to be jumping at the idea. Her brother, though… Kankuro looked interested. Baki was a harder read. She didn't know what he was thinking.

Aiko managed a smile. "It is late," she said, although it was only 6. "You must be tired from your travels. I will have someone escort you to your lodgings- by the way, it is the building set aside for Sunagakure that I mentioned earlier." She rose to her feet and indicated the door. "Eat, rest, and consider. I will see you tomorrow, or perhaps the next day." She inclined her head in a clear dismissal.

They took the hint and bowed, some more stiffly than others. For all her many graces, Temari was not a natural hand at diplomacy. But she didn't say anything dismissive outright.

Good enough, for now.

Gaara returned not long after his siblings had gone.

"What do you think?" Aiko asked. She shuffled her papers together and then attached a clip at the top. She looked over at her student. "Will they go for it?"

A line formed between his brows. In that moment, he looked a bit more like Temari. "Yes," Gaara rasped. His eyes hardened. "I will speak with them again."

"How is that going to help?" Aiko prodded. Not to put salt in the wound, but- "They are afraid of you. They didn't listen when you told them that things were different, did they?"

He looked away.

That probably meant that he hadn't managed to have a decent conversation with them. Aiko thought that over for a moment and then sighed. "You didn't have a chance to really talk yet, I suppose," she allowed, although she was a bit annoyed. "Temari can't tell me no until I speak with her- so I'm not going to meet her until you've told me that she's going to tell me what I want to hear." She leaned back in her chair and made eye contact with her apprentice. "Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly." Gaara sounded resentful, but that didn't necessarily mean a lot coming from him.

"Fine." She nodded at him and gestured to the door. "Be convincing, and sincere. And stay out of the open. Jiraiya isn't meant to be out in public, but I'm sure he is." She scowled. "We're going to have enough trouble keeping him away from the Suna diplomats. At least they'll stay put. Jiraiya is a nightmare."

"Indeed." Gaara turned and left without any more comment. It was just as well, because it was less than an hour later that Noa timidly knocked on the door and told her that Jiraiya wanted to talk with her.

She could actually feel her blood pressure spike, which was kind of interesting.

He burst in less than a minute later, nearly knocking the poor genin over. "Sorry I'm late," Jiraiya sang. Noa clung to the door frame.

Aiko sat up and crossed her arms in disgust. "I require appointments," she said. She knew it was useless even as she said it. It was about as effective as her attempts to make him take off his shoes had been in Konoha. Fuck, he was steam-rolling her in her own office.

He pretended not to hear her. "Hello!" Jiraiya said, beaming as he bounced around the room. He tangled his fingers behind his back in an ostentatious show of not-touching her books and paintings. "Interesting, interesting. Everything here is fascinating." He shot her a dangerously clever look, even though he was still grinning like an idiot. "I heard something today that I never would have guessed."

Ah, shit. She felt her expression falter. What had that bastard- where had he been snooping around? He really was a menace.

"Hirai-san," she said. Noa jumped to attention. "Please bring us refreshments."

Jiraiya's eyes sparked with victory.

"Yes, Mizukage-sama." Noa stole one suspicious glance at the foreigner beneath her eyelashes, and then she flitted away.

Aiko held out a hand to indicate the chairs on the other side of her desk.

The Konoha shinobi took a seat.

"What are you talking about." Her tone was so flat that it didn't come out sounding like a question at all.

He leaned back in her office chair. Aiko noted, resentfully, that he was in Utakata's favorite chair. It had the highest back and no arm rests. Utakata looked better in it. "I hear that you might have the Ichibi," Jiraiya said.

Sanbi roused.

Aiko stared at Jiraiya with her lips pressed into a thin line. She had to assume that her expression was not particularly friendly.

"That would be a bit of a departure from what we heard in Konohagakure," Jiraiya said. He did not seem friendly now, either, despite the smile on his face. "Isn't it strange that someone might tell me the Ichibi is in Kirigakure?"

"Interesting. That plan fell through faster than usual," Sanbi observed.

"Get wrecked."

"Excuse me?" Jiraiya's tone went flat.

Aiko waved at him dismissively. "I don't know what you're talking about. Where do you think I'm keeping it? Did you check under my kitchen sink before bothering me?" She leaned back in her chair.

"Your home is the place where he is most likely to encounter Gaara," Sanbi said, sounding a little lost. "It is unwise to direct his attentions there."

Yeah, that was kind of the point. It was a bluff. The more outrageous, the better.

"You got me," she continued. She held out her hands. "It lives in my house and takes long showers. We have breakfast at 6:25. You can take me away to jail for lying now."

He looked a little bit unsure, and then shook it off with a scoff and shake of his enormous mane of hair. "We both know that's not how it works. You're an Uzumaki. You could have sealed it away into one of your -."

"One of our strongest toddlers, yes," Aiko said, feeling a vicious smile creep onto her face. Jiraiya didn't know about Gaara. He was bluffing. "That is the Konoha technique, yes?"

He opened his mouth-

"Unfortunately, unlike Konoha, we are short on orphans." She tried to look concerned. "Should I kidnap one? I gather that's an important part of the process."

"What is that supposed to-"

"Danzo-sama," Aiko said. "Orochimaru. Take your pick. Your hamlet sucks." She made a fart noise at him and gave a thumbs down. "Your fish is old, your leaders are corrupt, and that goddamn takoyaki cart is never where you want it."

Jiraiya sat back down into the chair he had half-stood up from. He gave her a wary look. "You can't bullshit me," he said. "We-"

"Can and I will." Aiko tossed her hair. "I assure you that I've gotten away with it many times. Fight me."

He stared.

"That part wasn't planned, I was just feeling it," Aiko admitted. "I don't actually feel like fighting you right now. I have too much to do today. I'll fight you later. Wednesday? Soft yes on Wednesday?"

"No," Jiraiya said, holding up a finger.

"I'll let my assistant know to pencil you in." She glanced over at her closet and thought about leaving. It was a good time for a break. She needed to yell at Karin, and she could do that over tonkatsu. Jiraiya would be left alone in her office- he would definitely rifle through it, but there wasn't anything he wouldn't already know. And it would keep him busy. There was no chance he would leave without snooping.

Also, he would miss the lunch hour. Ha. By the time he gave up, it would be that awful in-between time when all the restaurants only served fucking coffee for some god forsaken reason. Fuck that guy. He wouldn't be able to eat until 7pm.

Yes. Yes, she was going to do that. She gathered up the only remotely sensitive documents in her office at the moment and tucked them under her arm. Then she set off on a beeline to the back wall.

"Do not- what are you doing?" Jiraiya moved fast, blocking her path to the supply closet. He stared down at her and crossed his arms. He was going for stern, but she could not be moved, no matter how far down he drew his eyebrows.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she said blandly. "I always do that at 2:30."

"It's noon." He took a step back. Keeping one eye on her cautiously, he tried the handle and opened the closet just enough that she could see a mop and stacks of printer paper. He glanced inside. Then he looked back at her, unamused. "You piss in there? Got a litterbox?"

"You don't know my life, buddy." Aiko ducked under his arm. He let her, making an exasperated sound. "Why are you so interested in what I do on my bathroom breaks? Who even wants more information about that? I'm a lady and I won't tolerate you creating a hostile work environment."

"I can wait," Jiraiya said. "Whatever you're really going to do in there cannot take that long." There was a grim challenge in his voice.

He was going to be very surprised. But that, more than anything, made her consider actually waiting in the closet just to have the chance to spite him by out-waiting him. But she had shit to do, so. "Please enjoy my stationery as you snoop," she said. "The pen with the gold tip is a joy to write with. But try not to break or lose anything, I have a system and you look like a man who owns five broken pencils and a pen with no ink."

She closed the door. Aiko waited a moment, spitefully savoring the angry and baffled silence. She deliberately made just a bit of noise when she settled to a seat on a stack of paper, so that he heard her getting comfortable. She crossed her legs at the ankles and waited for him to speak first.

"Is this really necessary?"

His voice was muffled through the door.

"Just a moment, please. I am busy shitting," she called back. And then she went to her kitchen and pulled open the drawer she filled with random bullshit like her army of broken pencils.

"I wondered why they hired you," Sanbi said. His tone was wondering. "I thought it was a miracle that you have not died. But I see now. That was masterful. You weave a web of bullshit."

"Thank you," Aiko said, surprised by the praise. She found a 10 centimeter-long pencil with no eraser left and shut the drawer.

"It was also horrible to even experience as a bystander," Sanbi said. "You have made me feel very uncomfortable. I did not enjoy it."

"That's the idea, friend," Aiko pointed out. "If I make a situation incredibly terrible, no one wants to be involved in it. He was all alone, and he would have been all alone if he'd had 20 jounin with him. No one wants to be caught in the bullshit typhoon."

"I don't," Karin said blandly. She finished pouring a glass of juice and shut the fridge. "Why did you tell me to come to the office and then meet me at home before the appointment?"

"My personal edification. And you're clearly involved now," Aiko said. "You're in it up to your eyes, kid. Hand me that notebook, please, so I can torment an old man. I want to make him cry and go hungry and I don't want to spend a lot of time arranging it."

Karin pulled the magnet-backed pad off the fridge and tossed it over. She leaned back against the counter and watched with narrowed eyes. It took her a while to decide to ask. In that space, Aiko scrawled a note for Nishikawa, instructing him to keep Noa out of the office for an hour. She paused over the words for a bit, and then decided to instruct Noa to ask Jiraiya if he needed help reading any of the big words in her daily planner.

"What did this old man do?" Karin asked casually, like she didn't even care about the information she was fishing for.

"Asked me a question I didn't feel like answering." She finished the note and dug around in her pocket for her glorious seal from Mifune-sama.

The other redhead's eyebrows shot up. "Touchy," Karin said.

Aiko gave her cousin an unimpressed look. "That was the actual answer. He asked me a rude question, so I'm making him suffer."

Karin watched for about three seconds, waiting for the joke. When it never came, she frowned. She seemed uncertain, which was big sign that she really didn't understand the way that things worked around here.

"You're grounded, by the way," Aiko added. And then she switched topics again. "But anyway, when someone from a foreign government asks you about your bathroom habits, you tell them to eat a whole bag of-"

"I can imagine, thank you," Karin said primly.

"I was going to say 'rancid weasels'," Aiko said, tone arch. She ripped the yellow paper off the pad and held it up between two fingers. "I'm going to drop this off, and then you and I are going to have a chat about going on missions that you knew full-well you were not authorized to participate in."

Karin rolled her eyes. "What's the big deal?" she complained. She put her juice on the counter with a loud clink. "No one died."

She pressed her lips together, because it was hard to argue with that. "I am your mother," Aiko changed tacts. "Don't backtalk me. If I say that you can't join in on counterintelligence operations, you focus on making park benches and mind your own business. How many benches have you made, Karin? Is it enough benches? Enough benches for you to have free time to sass me?"

Karin sighed. That probably meant there were insufficient benches. Damn it.

Aiko went back to the office and tiptoed to Nishikawa's desk. She could hear Jiraiya singing a bank jingle loudly and off-key. Her assistant just looked tired. He nodded at her and took the paper without any comment or surprise. She saluted to him, hiraishin'd back into the closet, and called out, "Sing the Princess dumbass theme song next. I like to poop to that one." Then she went to lunch.

[pandoraimperatrix]

Wandering Worlds

DickKory | Core Four Centric | Cannon Divergence | Longfic

Summary:

The story begins with the death of Dick Grayson. His life taken by his own brother, Jason. Consumed by grief, Rachel gives in to despair, losing control, a portal opens, but from it no destroyer of words come through. Instead a man who looks just like him, how can he be? The Titans, and especially Kory has to mourn their fallen leader and deal with this stranger with a lot of issues of his own. After that, when everything seem to be settling, Kory is forced to return to Tamaran, but she wasn't as alone in her destiny as she thought, neither her family of choice was willing to let her go that easily. But politics in Tamaran can be as complicated as travelling across universes.

————————————–

Part Four – Voyagers

Chapter Twenty-tree – I will not tolerate a world emptied of you

She nuzzled her face against the curve of his neck, Dick sighed, his hand reaching behind them for her waist, to pull her just a little closer, his fingers found warm flesh and once again he felt blessed by her superior alien physique and fashion sense, that, combined, always gave him such amazing opportunities for touching. Even then, he wished he couldn’t remember how it felt, the despair, the starvation for love, but he did. He did too well, and it was because of that, that he didn’t  care if people saw, if the children whistled and teased them from the upper sits of the Ferris Wheel, trying to throw popcorn on their heads an missing every time. They needed more training...

Life, he thought at the time, didn’t  get better than this. His children safe and thriving, the hand of woman of his dreams, whom he thought he had lost forever, holding his tight, around them a fortitude of promises of a shared future, of finally settling, of following the path they fought so hard to have the pleasure of taking, together, despite fate or logic or even the universe.

Fools rush in, an although he couldn’t say he had rushed into anything, he has been a fool nonetheless to think that was real. People like him didn’t get perfection, only glimpses that shone as brightly as they cut deep.

“I hate this place, I hate this place, I hat-“

“Gar, can you shut up?”

Dick massaged his temples and tried to ignore the two bickering siblings, he had let his mind float to the past again. It would be always like this for him, wouldn’t  it?

Starting, knowing in his marrow how his story always ended where love was regarded was the rock he would be always pushing up the proverbial hill. The number of promising futures he had were the same as of the tragic pasts.

And still...

Here he was again.

“Yes I can, but I won’t. The only thing I can do over this whole mess is complain and I will keep doing it, thank you very much.”

The plane landed and  Dick gritted his teeth. Bruce had seen on television, the battle, the way Starfire had abandoned her team after murdering Blackfire. It was a mess. The Titans had lost a lot of the approval and some instigators were using the whole situation to justify attacks against the legitimacy of superheroes, masked vigilantes and alien immigrants. And, although confirmation was yet to arrive, Dick had no illusion of escaping some sort of penalty by the Justice League. Justice League that he wasn’t sure if they were fully informed of his own sort of alien status...

READ MORE ON AO3

“Well, since we are doing things we can despite them being useful or even charitable to other people I can, for example, make your mouth disappear.”

Gar snorted obnoxiously.

“You’re bluffing.”

“Try me.”

“Nobody,” Dick started on a firm tone, “is making anyone’s mouth disappear. And Gar I have a massive headache and I’d really appreciate if you’d shut the hell up.”

He almost regretted his words when he saw Rachel supress a hurt look.

“Fine,” said Gar, relenting with a heavy exhale, “I still hate this place, though.”

“Noted,” ended Dick between tight teeth.

After all, annoyed as he was, it was a feeling he definitely could understand.

 Sometimes Dick felt so old, the thread of his life pulled too far, abnormality so. What relation had the man he was now to the circus boy? And Robin? And the man he was before the apocalypse? The man he was after...

Gotham, had been home to a Dick Grayson once. His place of birth, in another world. In this one... it felt like a graveyard.

“Why did he ask us to come, anyway? He couldn’t just send the ship.”

“Nothing is “just” with Bruce. Listen the both of you, I need the best behaviour if we want to make him cooperate. No stupid fights, no using powers for nonsense. But also, do not get too close and don’t  indulge his questions if you can’t  see his intentions. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” they said in uneven unison after exchanging a look. Dick envied them a little, never haven had the opportunity to grow up with a sibling, he had a similar bond with Donna but was not the same. Donna had more sisters than he could name, Gar and Rachel only had each other, and there was strength in that.

*

He had no hopes of this trip to Gotham going too well, any trip to Gotham really, but he knew something was wrong as soon as they stepped off the plane and found Bruce alone at the hangar. He was holding Alfred’s cane tightly, chin glued to his chest and the stared at them over his thick eyebrows.

No sign of Selina anywhere.

Fuck.

But to Dick’s surprise and terror, the old man approached them, and held Dick in an awkward one armed hug before acknowledging the children and telling them to follow.

Never before the Wayne Manor had looked so much like a crypt, with dust and cobwebs. He half expected the eyes of the paintings to move as they walked across the long dark corridors or to find a massive wedding cake rotting on the diner table Dickens style.

“I believe you can find the rooms you used the last time.”

Behind him, Dick could feel Gar and Rachel loud internal conversation although they were, finally, silent.

“Bruce-“

“You must be tired from the trip,” and for a moment Dick noticed how fragile the man in front of him looked, the bluish veins, and thin paper skin, the ever-present bags under his eyes deeper than pits, “we talk tomorrow, in the cave.”

His first instinct before Bruce turns his back at him was to call Donna. She was already heading to San Francisco when he told her over the phone that they were boarding the plane to go to Gotham and, after a string of insults, – which were unfair since she had not told him she was coming despite her allegations that he was stupid and ridiculous and of course she was coming who the hell he thought she were yadda yadda.

He loved Donna, to his bones, but Jesus fucking Christ sometimes the way she showed love drove him out of his wits, and he didn’t think he had that many wits left to spare.

He had been happily surprised to find Selina’s number on Koriand'r’s contacts after his legs drove him automatically to the room that had never been really his.

It went straight to voicemail.

He let a sardonic bitter laugh after that. It was just so like her, to make a lot of promises and then take off the moment things get hard and Bruce say or do something she doesn’t like, which he always does, because he’s Bruce. Rinse and repeat over and over again.

Dick haven’t enabled himself to miss Alfred in decades. When losses piles up, it’s easy to forget how far away from the ground one stands. He indulges himself now. He wishes he could run down the stairs and pour his heart over a cuppa, even if at the end all he would get for comfort was an encouragement to keep a stiff upper lip and, more rarely, an awkward pat on the head.

The next morning Dick intends to make breakfast but find the Wayne pantry, that has space to feed a standard size army, completely barren.

Maybe, he thought looking through the fogged window of the kitchen, that let him discern the contours of the gravestones far into the once perfectly manicured garden. Coming to this place, so full of heartbreak had been a mistake.

That feeling was confirmed as he descended down through the Grandfather Clock secret passage into the Batcave.

It looked as it always did, but instead of the strange comforting feeling he had as a kid when he entered the place, all Dick felt was uncanniness. On his right he found the body of the woman he loved frozen and lifeless. On his left, he stomped to death the only father he really met for killing her, and further down, taking the corner to the med bay, was the place he was held bound in pain and confusion while de corpse of a luckier version of himself laid dead.

Dick tasted bile, and swallowed hard.

“Bruce,” he called, and just like a dramatic supervillain in a cartoon, Batman turned his chair around. Dick frowned.

“Put your mask, we will be in a videoconference with the League in a few minutes.”

“With the League? Why?”

Even through the mask, Dick could feel the unmistakable steel cold batglare he was receiving.

“What you mean why? Do you have any idea of how that showdown in San Francisco costed us in PR? Diana is doing her best to keep the government and the UN at bay but not even her is that wonderful.”

Incredulity took over Dick’s whole body as if someone had physically shoved him, hard.

“PR?” he asked, his voice rising an octave. “That was really what is concerning you? After everything you saw that happened?” He swallowed, finding himself panting although he had barely moved his feet. “You know, I thought I was angry at Selina for always leaving you, but I think her real problem is that she keeps coming back.”

“What comes between me and Selina is none of your concern.”

“I wish, or no, maybe you’re right. This conversation, this whole ridiculous situation doesn’t make any sense. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m stupid for believing in anything you said to me in Metropolis-“

“I stand by each and every single word I said to you in Metropolis. You are my son. Why do you think I’m going through all this work to shield you from the repercussions of what happened? The things I had to do to keep your real identity a secret? Do you know what I have been doing to protect you? To keep you safe?”

Dick felt his entire body sag in defeat, it was a wonder that he didn’t fall on the floor like a sack of bones, so old and tired of having the same argument across time, space and now, realities.

“I can’t take care of myself, I don’t need you to protect me-“

“You died!” Bruce shouted.

“I didn’t!” Dick replied, and for a moment they remained in silence. The Dick took a few calming, bitter breaths. “You are trying to somehow correct your mistakes, what you think, at least, that were your mistakes with your son. Listen, I tried to do something similar and... There’s no going back. He is gone, like my world is also gone…” He sighed. “I thought, after all you said in Metropolis, that you had that figured out, somehow. I always think you know everything… I came here for help, I came here because I thought you’d understand. I was wrong.”

“Even if the situation wasn’t as hopeless it is. Even if get you, Mr Logan and Miss Roth on some spaceship to the Vegan System wasn’t a stupid idea, I’d not do it. I’d not help it. And I’d do everything in my power to stop it.” Was he even listening? It felt, not for the first time, that Bruce was replying to an entire different argument than the one Dick was having with him. “I wouldn’t and will not risk your and your kids life by aiding you in this pursuit of some alien woman. You are far too precious. Either way, the message is clear, son, she doesn't want you."

Some alien woman...

Too precious...

He couldn’t fathom the absurdities one after another. Such was his dissonance of emotions that Dick was overcome with the maniac urge to laugh. And so he did, his sad dark laughter echoing through the cave’s humid walls, bothering the bats, he laughed in spite of Bruce’s perplexed look and the annoying beeping sound the Batcomputer was doing to get the call started.

When he finally, got himself together, wiping roughly the tears away from his face, he stared down at Bruce’s small figure and saw him, maybe for the first time, as what he really was. Powerless. All money, all advantages, all brilliancy in the world wouldn’t change that. He wanted to pity that man, but right now, same as in that nightmare night an entire reality apart, all he could urge himself to do was stomp him down.

“You have to be joking. And since when you care about my kids? Did you ever have a real conversation with them?” Without waiting for a response, Dick turned around and started walking away. “God you are pathetic all over the multiverse,” he glance behind to say that, pointing at Bruce who looked even weaker as he struggled to follow Dick’s large strides, Alfred’s cane making a horrible scratching sound against the rock flooring, “call that consistency of character if you want. I just find it hilariously sad.”

“Dick, come back, Dick!”

“Fuck you, Bruce,” he muttered as the elevator doors slid open.

"THE ALIEN DOESN'T WANT YOU! ANY OF YOU! I DO. WE CAN BE A FAMILY!"

Dick turned again at that, now, finally, he could feel some sort of pity for that man.

“We are a family. Me and my kids, and their mother. You are the one who was never part of it. I'm not 12 anymore Bruce, I don't need you to want me anymore."

And with those last words, he took his tired looking and famished kids out that overbuilt mausoleum of a house with no intention of ever coming back.

“Why we are leaving already?” asked Rachel scratching her eye, head pillowing on Gar’s shoulder as Dick signed at them to buckle up.

“Did you get the spaceship?” the boy asked.

“No. We’ll find another way.”

He turned back from the wheel of the car he stole from oversupplied Wayne garage and held a firm look at his children.

Gar was frowning, Rachel biting her bottom lip. No more words were exchanged and somehow, Dick knew they understood.

And as long as they continued choosing each other, they always would.

*

Much later, at a motel room, Dick heard a knock on his door.

Lying on his bed, fully clothed in the dark, Dick covered his eyes with the heels of his hands. He just couldn’t handle with the obviously underage reception girl hitting on him right now.

“Dick, it’s me,” Rachel’s sweet voice announced beyond the cheap door of his room.

He let his breath float out of his body, the migraine making his eyes ache more insistently than his heart.

“Come on in,” his voice cracked like wet wood in the fire.

He felt her move in the dark, any other person would have asked about the absence of light, many would have turned it on without a single care. Not Rachel.

She sat beside him.

Dick covered his eyes with his forearm to free one hand to reach out for her. Rachel took it, holding it firmly with both of her smaller and so much more powerful hands.

“I’m sorry things did go well with Bruce.”

Dick snorted.

“I’m sorry I ever thought it would.”

He heard her sigh.

“Dick...”

“We’ll find another way, Rach.” He kept repeating that as if to make himself believe.

“About that...”

“Hmm?”

“Gar and I have been talking and you know... When I went to Themyscira...”

Dick took his arm off his face and squinted to see her in the penumbra.

“No.”

“Yeah, of course. It was the other... Well, I had gone there to try to bring Donna back, but... My point is, I didn’t accomplished that, right? Donna came back on her on, what I did do, and even though it was after, I think the training I got at Themyscira might have something to do with it, was bringing you to us.”

“Rach, I’m not following.”

“I couldn’t bring him back. I couldn’t bring Donna back, but… Dick, what if we don’t need a spaceship after all? What if, I can take us to Kory or bring her back?”

He let her word sink in and then, sat up.

“You think you can really do that?”

“I mean, it’s great that I can sometimes heal people and control dark matter, but when you think of it, my purpose was to open a portal to bring Trigon to this world, right? And when you really, really think of it… that’s how you are here.”

He considered her words, and before he could help himself something started growing in his pit of his chest. Something small, yet strong, something that thrived even all he wanted was to get rid of it for once, but it wouldn’t let go. And thank God for that.

“But that and what you did to me was dimension travel, the Vegan System is in this dimension.”

“Shouldn’t it be easier then?”

“I suppose so, but-“

“Dick…”

He stared at her eyes so full of hope and despair. Not for the first time, Dick wished there was a way to shield her from harm forever, he understood now, why in fairy tales, princesses and treasures were hid away in high towers and protected by dragons. But Rachel would hate to be locked in a Tower and the closest to a dragon they had was Gar if he could turn into a very big lizard.

“Rach…” He breathed in, trying to say in a way that wouldn’t hurt as much, but failing. “What if... What if she doesn’t want to come back?”

Even with his eyes hurting and the darkness he could see her lip trembling. She crushed his hand between hers.

“We have to try.”

*

“And how does she plans to accomplish that?” asked Donna over the phone when he finally picked one of her calls the next morning. He felt raw all over, and the blinding glare of the white morning wasn’t really helping although his headache was not even close to the torment from when he left Gotham, that time, he swore, forever.

“I’m not sure… You know magic isn’t exactly my forte, and Rachel’s powers are still mostly a mystery… We’ll need help.”

“Don’t you always?” but her tone was far from accusatory, Dick could even see the little smirk through her words. “You want to send her to Themyscira again? Mother might not object, but Diana called me, and lemme just tell you, I’m not on her best side right now…”

Dick cringed, the fight with Bruce coming back and making his head ache.

“No, not that. But I was thinking, do you know where Lilith is?”

There was a long silence, and started to rain, Dick, ducked under the roof of the motel. He had come outside to see if the fresh air did him some good.

“The Talmud?” She finally answered in a small uncertain voice.

“What?”

He heard an annoyed ruff.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, Dick.”

He frowned.

“Red hair, a bit dramatic, daughter of an actual Titan, kinda like your sister is half-goddess?”

“The only dramatic ginger I know is Roy, and I don’t think he knows anything about opening portals.”

Oh no…

“Damn. There’s no Lilith in this world,” of course, of fucking course, he wanted to crush something with his own hands.

“I didn’t say that,” said Donna after a while. “I said I don’t know any Lilith. You know, this different universes shit is complicated. But… we could look for her. And if she doesn’t exist, we’ll find another witch to help Rach, hell, she might not even need anyone to guide her.”

“Donna, have I ever told you how amazing you are?”

“What? Sorry, I didn’t hear you, you need to repeat it, louder.”

And for the first time in days, Dick felt a spark of joy. What would he do without Donna?

“Don’t tell Rachel, I don’t want to give her any false hopes.”

“I think the lot of you need any hope you can get. One more thing, when you see your Koriand’r again, tell her, I’m gonna kick her ass.”

*

Once again I say: I wrote the script for this story WAY before season 3 was done, nevermind season 4, so, if some coincidences occur like, talking about teleportation, it is the HBO Max probing into my head LMAO. Now, seriously, Raven teleports all the time in the comics and the cartoon I’m not inventing the wheel here. I'm just making a complicated wheel for fun and laughs.

Nobody is more sorry than me for how long this story is taking to get finished, I just have been adulting a lot. And been meh in the head. And the thing about writing switching POVs is that my brain wants to continue telling the story from the last person I was writing instead of going to the other and that makes getting in the mood hard. Dick and Kory are very different people and now they are in literal different planets, it’s… Hard. But it’s also a labour of love. I want to tell this story till the end, and I will, if I don’t like, die tomorrow getting distracted by a kitten crossing the street or something.

PLEASE leave a comment and reblog, I’m fucking begging you to, because I have no shame.

Bye.

[sifya]

La Sentencia de muerte/ TheDeath knell 2 chap

If you are still reading thanks, make question and send me prompts. Vanitas is in in characther because he is child but I'm thinking for example some behavior he took from character who interects with him. Sapphire is the one show him how treating people in this chap.

Description of physical and emotional violence

A blink of eyes, and the troupe was halved, the little boy didn't have time for changing his confuse look with scared one when the vampire approached him in run and then a jump. A screamed no and someone shielded him. A familiar smell but never so near to him, except if the boy was sick, embraced the boy following by iron smell of blood. "Father?" The boy though he saw a shadow of smile before the man lose the force to keep himself and fell on floor, the boy ‘s hands was full of blood from the last hug of man. The vampire looked the boy, and the mouth was so big and dislodged and fangs looked like knifes. The little boy was so scared that he couldn't scream. The monster was near, too near, too too near. Before the blood of boy dropped from his pale neck, the vampire was taken back and threw on nearest solid superface, a wagon train. A woman dressed up similar a priest stabbed, the heart and with other free hard with a twin dagger she cut off the head with a shift and powerful movement. Like that the vampire turned in dust. The woman with darkest eyes, so dark it was impossible to see the pupil turned to boy and ordered. “Hide under the wagon.” Her tone was so severe the boy obeyed. Hiding here, the boy could hear screaming and steal met anther, the noise of dropping blood. The boy screamed when a man approached his hide, but his mind calmed itself seeing he was dress up like the woman. Hunters. The man was big with bronze skin, but he moved with calm and affability making him a lot less intimidating, than he offered a hand to the boy. "how you found me" the boy rudely asked and pointed at his mask, that looked a lot like

ex vote. The mask covered half his face and only lips could be seeing. "This is a vote I did to the Lord, but I'm not blind." He answered without a trance of annoyance. The boy left his hide but he didn't take the hard that the man offered. There were very few survivors of troupe were crying and being dirty of blood and ashes from vampires. The matriarch removed her attention from the female hunter and screamed to the boy.

"You! YOU! YOU TOOK MY DAUGHTER AND NOW MY PEOPLE! YOU ARE BAD LUCK! YOU ARE ALWAYS BEEN! The boy was so hurt from her words that without thinking he took the hand of kind man hide behind him; he knew they hated him, he killed his mother who was very loved, he was half -foreigner because his father. But they weren't never so explicit about only secret chatting and briefly spiteful stares.

The boy freeze from behide the man seeing she was coming to her, like a furious bull. The man just stopped her with a firm sign of his hand, and polite and yet firmest voice.

“Don’t need to be so aggressive.” And he gently pushed the matriarch away from them.

"There is not such things like misfortune or luck. The world is place of chaos not order, something happened because they happen.” The hunter woman approached to them. The matriarch screamed more." My daughter died to birth him.

“So you should teach her to not open her legs like dog in heat.” The hunted said coldly “How you dare?” The old lady tried to slap the hunter woman, but she grabbed her arm. Matriarch was surprised because nobody in trope had never stopped her behave. "Well, what I say it is unlogical and disrespectful as you said to him. Apologize.” She concluded with the last word with cold poison. " I.. I... "

The boy answered he didn't need it, making a brave face with sarcasm but his voice was shaking. The woman looked the boy and asked if he was sure, the boy answered back his decision. So she left the arm of old lady, there wasn't sign but it was painful. The man with mask knelt on height of boy and asked."Do you want to come with us? " The boy looked the body of his father; they weren't been really family but they have each other like two strangers connected by solitude. Or it wasn't? Why did he die for him? Why the survival of boy was more important than his own?

The matriarch protested, but she was silenced by the woman.

“Why should he stay with you? You didn’t sound very kind to him.”

“Well, he stay here.”

“If he wants, yes.”

“Doesn’t matter what he wants. We are family.”

The woman make a sign with closed eyes but when she opened them they were more famine of vampire’s.

“If there is I think I hate when people uses “family” as excuse. Tell me; are you going to sell him or kept like your doormat?”

The matriarch answered. “You are nothing to him,I have right to him. I ‘m still alive.”

The woman bended her heard on side and gave the slyest smile the boy had ever seen.

“ Well, that can change easily.”

“ … You .. you cannot .. you are hunter…” Matriarch said in arrogant voice but her hands were shaking.

“ Yes, I’m. But hunter’s job is fighting vampires, if we can salve humans in process is good… but we can easily come to late, and everybody here is dead except the boy. Only truth matters is the one we wrote on or paperwork” Now her eyes looked like well so deep that boy saw one time. It was so deep it was impossible seeing the end.

Now the rest of troupe was so terrified they were crying and shaking again.

She looked the boy. “I know orphanage isn’t the first choice, but ours is pretty good and we will find a family for you. Do you want to came with us?”

The boy make a shy affirmative sign and the woman just said. "Let's move on.” The masked man was exasperated." Sorry about rudeness of my colleague. She is better to stabbing things and ordering around. She is Sapphire paladin. Me paladin Alexandrite. What is your name, little one?” And he offer his hand.

The boy took the hand of man, while Sapphire banked orders to the troupe and other hunters who arrived.

The wagon that was shared by the boy and his father was locked up with his corpse, while adults discussed how handle it. Hunters tried to get some information how he wanted his burial from his son, but he didn't have answers: they didn't really talked, sometimes little talk but not serious topic as that, in the end they decided to cremate the body once they were in Toledo and buried. But the boy asked if he could shatter the ashes in airs, he knew the troupe did it with his ash of his mother, so a least there was possibility they met again in air.

In mean time he was sitting with the two paladins on cart, Alexandrite was near to the boy and Sapphire in front of them. "Very well, Jude." Alexandrite answered. The boy made an annoying face that was noticed by Sapphire. "you don't like your name.” " who likes a name of betrayed? The piecing black eyes stared him so deeply... And then she threw something to him. He got a silver medal with a Saint. “Saint Judas or Jude in English, he is Saint who deserve all respect because he is the patron of lost cases. He was one trusted friend of our lord and kindest soul. And you took his name. Your parents named after him.” The little boy touched hesitant the medal, it was from his father, but the words on it was in English, so probably that medal used to belong to his mother, because all troupe before moving here in mainland they were from England. So his name was an honour to the Saint, chosen by his parents? Or just by his father after the boy survived the difficult birth? Looking back he had never pronounced "Jude" with light disgusting like the other members of troupe. But these were only hypothesis, he would never knew the truth. Tears were burning his eyes but he kept back, not wanting showing them. People wouldn't never kind with his tears, a lot time trope screamed not being such crybaby. The sapphire stood up and the boy got scared by her expected a slap, but she covered his face with her jacket, creating a little space of privacy. Alexandrite gave half hug to the boy covered by jacket without saying a word. They wouldn't judge him. He cried without reservation knowing nobody wouldn't hurt him about. The boy felt sleeping and than waking up by gentle hand. The boy brushed because he used the paladin shoulder like a pillow and dirty with drool his jacket. Sapphire ‘s jacket was still a duvet. We are arrived. The main said. He smiled despite his mask the boy felt the warm of his voice. “Toledo.” If the man didn't tell the boy would recognising the city because the troupe passed here few times. Sapphire gave a half smile. And as she read his mind"you know the Toledo in light but now are going to know her truth identity. No a beautiful dancer but a hunter, Toledo is the city of hunters. She sounded so warm but then she come back to her cold and guarded attitude.

“Jude, in this city nobody would think you are crazy if you talk about vampires. Everyone works for us. But the church usually take children like you for turning in hunters, but you still have a choice. I’m not to force on you that road.”

The boy didn’t like her concern , she thought he was weak?

“ I want to be hunter.” He screamed.

“ Rage is a good thing.” She said without being influence but his behaviour.

“ Rage can salve you when everything else is gone… but it is also a double-edged blade.”

Alexandrite concluded.“It make you blind. And trust me I know very well.”

“I’m sure.” Sadness was gone in place of rage. “ and can I be call Diaz?”

Diaz was surname of his father, only thing he left to him.

Alexandrite and Sapphire looked each other with deep connecting who knew each other in long time.

“You can always change you mind. In every case welcome to Toledo. Diaz:”

[un-local]

Hi there, tarnished oc anon again! So basically my tarnished are actually a pair of twins, Derrick and Merrick (M + F, respectively)! Derrick is a swordsman who favors rapiers, while Merrick is a sorceress. Despite the initial impressions someone might get from this, Derrick is probably the more sensible and practical of the two - while Merrick is just a rough and tumble little gremlin! Derrick is also a little more cautious and observant, while Merrick has a bit of a short fuse and prefers to take things at face value.

… Together, though, they make a team of utterly reckless, good-natured, and fun-loving tarnished - definitely an uncommon type in the Lands Between! They're probably more naive than other more experienced tarnished due to their relatively young age, so they're a lot more willing to trust others right off the bat. They bicker and fight with one another CONSTANTLY, but are also nigh inseparable and always have each other's backs in a real battle.

I like to think they'd make fast friends with Rogier in Stormveil, as they're always happy to make an ally, and his knowledge in both sorcery and sword arts would be highly appreciated. Merrick would also end up with the biggest crush on the man omg, she would NOT know what to do with herself about it (and Derrick teasing her wouldn't help either lmao)

I think what's been tripping me up would be more towards the end of Rogier's questline after being deathblighted - it's hard to imagine what he would think of their want to be close with him, trying to help him in any way they can simply because they care about him (especially Merrick… especially if he finds out how she feels about him!) Would he try to politely back out of the emotional corner they've put him into, try to build up his walls again to keep from having to have More Feelings about his impending death?

As a side note, I also like to think that, just as much as Rogier hates being pitied, Merrick would hate the implication of something they've done for him coming from a place of pity. The twins pity nobody, least of all their friend Rogier. I can imagine it would make Merrick very upset with him for a few minutes if he said something to imply as much 😊

Wow, I didn't mean to make this into an entire essay 😭😭 Long story short, if Rogier is closing the blinds on most everyone he meets, then the twins are the ones smashing his windows to break in 🤣🤣

Thanks so much for taking the time in reading all of this and offering your input!!

Ooh, that's a fun concept! I like the similar names for them. It ties into the naming conventions of the game very well!

Here's my two cents under the cut. And, like I said before, there's a thousand and one ways to write Rogier. Please feel free disregard any of this if it's not working for you or your story! I'm really just some broad with a keyboard, at the end of the day.

The first thing that stood out to me personally were these two lines:

[1] "Merrick (...) prefers to take things at face value." [2] "Merrick would also end up with the biggest crush on the man omg"

A crush on him, or his facade?

If it's the latter:

I'm understanding Merrick to be a more outspoken/brash type. That could work in her favor here. With the power of her more direct nature, what starts as a crush on his facade can grow into an appreciation for the rest of him, as she starts to find the cracks.

You mentioned about her rejecting the idea "pitying Rogier.” That might be a good start to that process. Just to string something haphazardly together to illustrate my point:

Rogier can't bear to be pitied, and he makes that known. In doing so, the facade wavers. (Tone of voice/words/general demeanor)

This gives Merrick a chance to see something past the face value.

She defends herself from his (spoken or implied) accusation, and by the end of it, they have a better understanding of another.

So her direct nature might help her get to the bottom of what his deal is. There's a lot of ways you could take it, I think.

But that's just me pulling stuff out of my ass. I have no idea if that's the direction you'd want for your story, lol.

====<>====

Derrick is also a little more cautious and observant,

He might be able to see past the facade a little more, and be able to better understand Rogier's reasons for being so distant. If he can see something of Rogier's anger/grief/regrets/fears, that might be a very interesting conversation between them.

====<>====

You also mention they make fast friends with Rogier. I think their continued loyalty could be appreciated by him, especially towards the end.

In the sense that he appreciates actions, far more than he appreciates words. He's an admitted liar himself, after all. Actions seem like the way to go to help him understand the sincerity of the twin's care for him. So them getting the knife-print, stuff like that.

The Roundtable Hold is a good place to help establish that also. Rogier overhears one or both of the twins defending him, that kind of thing. (D's accusations of him being a "piteous fellow" come to mind...) (It's not so much what they say in his defense, but that they say anything at all. It's the act that he takes notice of. Their sincerity.)

(Speaking of conversations, perhaps one between the twins? Their ribbing and banter, when they don't think anyone's around. It might give Rogier insight into who they are and their past.)

The better he knows them, the easier it is for him to decide how much he trusts them. That's a big factor in how he handles them near the end, I'd think.

Loyalty is definitely something I'm focusing on in SWRD. I think it's a very viable option to help circumvent his avoidant tendencies.

====<>====

Would he try to politely back out of the emotional corner they've put him into,

I certainly think that would be his first instinct. But I think it's totally possible to have enough events beforehand to make him rethink that instinct. You could totally get them all to a point where they have a more meaningful connection by the end.

Hopefully some of those thoughts are helpful to you? If none of this is to your taste, please don't hesitate to disregard it. Your enjoyment should always be your first priority in your story!

Good luck with your story, anon!

[evilyunia]

1, 14, 17 for Ranrys!

Ah, thank you for asking the questions! And to everyone who reads this: yes Ranrys is evil and irredeemable +should be that way

1. What inspired you to create your OC?

This is a really funny question to me, because Ranrys creation were very spontaneous. You see i have an own original fantasy setting (shocking i know) and there's a character named Lucian. He has this drow looking appearance (i mean visibly dark obsidian skin tone and white hair) and once while re-reading Drizzt saga i decided to make an AU where Lucian is an actual drow from Forgotten Realms. At first i wanted everything to stay that way, but then i realised that Lucian is too sweet and too polite person to be a drow from Lolth sworn society and to make him one means to change his personality completely. Also i didn't had a drow OC for a literal decade despite them being my all time favourite fantasy elven race. So decision were made to redesign Lucian into separate character and gave him a new name. At thas time i re-opened to myself OST from Enclave videogame especially from dark campaign and it inspired me a LOT to work with Ranrys more, especially when there were no limitations anymore. Now it's even shocking for me to think that him a Lucian were the same person.

14. Did you give your OC a love interest? Is it another OC or canon character? Why?

While being a mortal drow Ranrys had a lot of sexual partners but him being a pick me male +wanting to show his power any time he could made him a very abusive and cruel partner especially for drow men whom did not study arcane magic (Ranrys has a deep respect to scholars of all types and also he deems as dirt beneath him everyone whom he finds non intelligent enough, disposable or powerless mostly hierarchy type-wise). And even those who are mages Ranrys treated as his rivals and possible threat because there's can be only one token powerful male drow wizard.

But canonical love interest for Ranrys is his demonic patron Sarkontil. Both got involved when Ranrys were still a mortal trying to get an immortality and later their relationships became official after Sarkontil turned Ranrys into fiend by giving him a demonic life essence taken from another demon. Ending up in a servitude of more powerful fiend without any means to escape were a critical mistake of Ranrys he didn't foreseen because of his own arrogance. Sarkontil treated Ranrys like a toy you can hug while distress and also rip it's head apart when you are angry, having constantly an insane mood swings between being an affectionate lover and a torturer making life for his partner much harder every time just because he can. At first Ranrys tried to cope very hard telling himself that this is a small payment for new gained immortality, but the more time passed the more Ranrys became to genuinely hate and despise Sarkontil untill any admiration for him were gone. One day Ranrys had enough of these humiliations so he finally decided to kill his lover and end this parody of partnership once and for all. But also Ranrys didn't wanted just to kill Sarkontil no no no. His plan were to destroy Sarkontil's physical body without touching demonic essence giving him a chance to reborn powerless without any of his possessions. To be clear: to make Sarkontil go through misery, pain and humiliation. So Ranrys did killed him and took all of his possessions in Abyss. Truly a success, but there's was a thing he couldn't predicted. After hundred years passed Sarkontil DID reborn and his punishment... Wasn't a punishment at all! You see Sarkontil is old and immortal and few last centuries were a boredom for him: he tired of his life he tired of everything being the same, same layer of abyss, same cultists, same amusement in Zelatar. The more Sarkontil became older the more his accomplishments seemed shallow. Even participating in Blood Wars wasn't much interesting to Sarkontil anymore (even though he loves to kill devils). So losing everything and to have constantly to survive was a true blessing, like unironically. But the worst part (for Ranrys) is that after returning to Abyss Sarkontil became totally obsessed with him. You see only a few previous Sarkontil's lovers had enough courage to go against him, even less tried to murder him, and none of them succeed. Except Ranrys.

Sarkontil realised that he has more fun to be involved with someone who isn't pandering to him. Ranrys on other hand truly despises Sarkontil but he also a big fan of sex, schemes and murder (even emotional rollercoaster became more fun after Sarkontil lost half of his powers and Ranrys gained ones so now they are just equally awful to each other).

This is already too many words i try to keep a short description of their dynamics.

Sarkontil: loves Ranrys in his own twisted way, thinks that every other potential partner sucks except Ranrys, still doesn't treat him seriously and more like "haha angry twink funny"

Ranrys: genuinely hates Sarkontil, thinks he's a shallow dumbfuck but sleeps with him anyway. Will deny any positive feelings about him.

Together: they are kinda moody like both can go together on a date to see gladiators butchering themselves to death on arena and have a civil conversation, but second later they try to murder each other in public. Sarkontil and Ranrys sometimes plot a schemes against each other but it's more like a ritual to them. Usually they like to involve a second party to participate in schemes, then kill that person or people together in a brutal way and have a sex right after murder occurred (did i mention Sarkontil and Ranrys are the worst people? Now i have). And yes, they also both physically violent to each other probably local demonic nobility in Zelatar finds their relationships truly romantic tee-hee

17. List/describe up to five tropes that apply to your oc. They could be related to the oc's characterization or their narrative arc.

Ah, this one a very interesting,i do not know many tropes but i will try my best!

1. Power-hungry wizard obsessed with magic and only interested to gain more.

2. Beautiful cunning person that took their appearance as advantage.

3. Oppressed sides with oppressors. Ranrys will say that every drow male warrior deserves his low place in hierarchy +Lolth tyranny is cool and based. Yes even if he himself betrayed Lolth.

4. Mean bitch who cannot accept any defeats or fails. +Perfectionist better_than_you Idk what else to say.

[scarabsi]

One thing I had to have a horrified realization about and then train myself to stop, working customer service, is that calling people ma'am or sir is just a misgender waiting to happen because I hate being called ma'am. It forces you to make a snap judgment about someone. There are other ways to speak subserviently or politely in English, you have to find them (tone, body language, and smiles go a long way)

I used to read out a customer's first and last name from their membership card. Then I realized one of my regulars might have their deadname on there, though they never reacted about it. Then I had a few too many old cis men joke about cards with their wives' names, like "My parents were strange lol," which is more fun than the defensive "it's my wife's membership." You just don't need to read the customer's first name. They literally give you a name to call them by when you ask for it (to write on the cup, because I work in a café)

be very deliberate when you call a group of people "guys" or "ladies" or "dudes." No matter how hard you go back later to say "I mean it in a gender neutral way," it only makes you look more sexist/transphobic. Either say it in full confidence or don't say it at all

"Ladies and gentlemen" is boring. "Ladies, gentlemen, and people better than that" is funny

i was ranting abt this w my wife last nite like. i think people have forgotten the whole “dont assume stuff about people based on their appearence” thing and that it also applies to people who are “straight-looking” “cis-looking” “normal-looking” etc. ultimately you dont know anything about how someone identifies or what their life is like unless they tell you, especially not at a glance. dont project your ideas onto strangers, its weird.

[mandy4ever69420]

realistically giving kev and v a guatemalan foster kid and having them be more or less good to him and walk away with him saying they're not "the bad ones" was probably an attempt to walk back the fact that "being extremely anti-immigrant" was a character trait unintentionally conferred onto both of these characters, particularly with how the throuple plot ended. plus the fact that shameless seemed to decide kev and v should be "nice" at some point (the idea v "should" be genuinely progressive -insofar as the writers can express what being progressive is, the idea that kevin should be too socially inept to notice racism?) but it's indirectly a very effective way to frame them as like. exactly the sort of principled in theory bigoted in practice behavior you get from american liberals

because it's so easy to support a nice soft spoken (though i mean, limited english can make anybody seem soft spoken.*) teenager - particularly who sings the fucking american national anthem, which im sure to nationalists who like to play at opposing oppression seems super uplifting** & in fact, i think kev and v's attitude towards trying to find santiago's family was pretty good.

when contrasted with how kevin treats mexican laborers in s4 (hearing mickey complain about the exploitation of immigrant labor, going "that's a fucking fantastic idea" and offering these men not even PPE to remove asbestos), and how quickly kevin and veronica are willing to turn to immigration enforcement (s8 aired in 2017, when liberals felt allowed to critique american border policy because trump was president, so we all knew damn well about how rampant abuse of migrants is) to resolve or avenge a personal problem - the same thing that sammi is rightfully hated for at the end of s5 - we get this picture that advocating for a nice victim - who plays sportball, and is just a kid, and hasn't "done" anything - is more about feeding kev and v's egos as nice people, moreso than actually having principles when it comes to separating families at (any) border

i'll say i think v's plotline about being somewhat politically aware is slightly better than kevin's - if for nothing else than that i think it's a supported read that people were by and large being assholes to her for being in an interracial relationship, and to some extent you could claim the narrative is more sympathetic to her than to people who give her a hard time

kevin, though, also has a glaring homophobia problem. it's never made sense to me how much of a reputation people seem willing to confer onto him for being a super-ally or something. i joke that ellen degeneres being brought up when you come out is worst case scenario, but tbh! the fact that mickey felt relief at being mocked at instead of physically assaulted is more of a reflection on how much fear he had, rather than of how good kevin was at supporting him - though i mean, had kevin tried some peace and love bullshit, for sure, mickey would've reacted poorly. still, "haha everyone could tell, and being gay is just about sex anyway" is a homophobic response

kevin still has this attitude where he does THINK he's super pro-gay. and for sure, comparatively, he does a lot better than other characters. it was a relief as a viewer, feeling sort of mad and conflicted that gentrifiers, who i hate, were being homophobically harrassed, which i hate, had kevin come up to say "can we do this without the gay-bashing" but that's still kevin taking the opportunity to be supportive when there are no very personal conflicts or influences on his life.

kevin's homophobia seems magnified, also, by misogyny. he has no problem fetishizing svetlana and v's relationship when they seem shallow, or he can't wrap his head around v being seriously interested in svetlana outside of sex - he thinks it's cool and hot to have "lesbians" [sic] at home. his tone changes, IMO, when he starts to realize that v has real feelings for svetlana. because he can't treat svetlana, and her relationship to v, as a sexy commodity anymore. suddenly he, who doesn't actually understand polyamory, is forced to see svetlana as a threat*** and no longer happily accepts that his wife has a wife.

as a side note, i think every concern about mickey's treatment of svetlana/her coworkers in s4 could more accurately be expressed about kevin, who really didn't take these people seriously outside of a source of cashflow. as much as mickey was motivated by money, he really was grossed out by how they were treated, and has actual (usually hostile, because he's an abrasive jackass, but on-the-level) interactions with these women. tbf, at points kevin's attitude almost includes mickey - see his approval of mickey's "if they complain we beat the shit out of them" not leading him to hesitate when it comes to robbing mickey later. not entirely, but you could claim mickey was valued as a source of ideas, and a body to perform violence. kevin's sort of soft and emotional nature (+misogyny) cause him to see mickey also as a peer through being around him a lot, though, and he never spends time with any of mickey and svetlana's "kelly girls"

v's role in kevin's throuple homophobia/misogyny/xenophobia is a little weird - the point could be made about internalized misogyny influencing whose personhood and feelings she values more? or, more forgivingly, she just knew kevin longer. v has also been sort of weird about kevin before - being depressed makes random shit devastating, but the "that was my hair" comment is still a very presumptuous way to talk about someone else's body

*a point here is about how more nominally accepting people are of those who can't express their own position clearly - WRT: language proficiency, when someone speaks english very well like svetlana, you can no longer project onto her the idea of someone being "nice" or even just a misunderstanding if she's dismissive or calls you a dumb fuck. nobody likes it when someone they're advocating for has criticisms for them, and taking issue with tone is a favorite dodge. it's all fun and games until you have to listen to the perspective of who you're advocating for. this is why "the unborn" are a favorite cause of feel-good conservatives. they'll never contradict you!

**btw, i've read quite a bit of history on immigrant groups playing up US patriotism in response to facing bigotry (particularly 2nd+ gen mexican/central americans in the 1940s - & latinos still make a huge proportion of the US military) in the idea that if you look patriotic/"real" american that'll save you from the specific xenophobia of being treated as enemy by virtue of foreignness. this is largely a lie, racism and xenophobia don't operate on logic, but does create a population that's willing to work US imperialism's dirtier and more painful jobs for the faint promise of being respected. there IS an extent to which veteran status does confer some idea of "americanism" that promotes people internally - god, how fucking many politicians promote themselves as veterans?

***there's a lot to be said here about how even very very feminine gay/bi women are treated as "like men" or predatory for stepping into a man's "territory" - being interested in women, fulfilling the emotional needs of other women. svetlana's assertiveness is again demonized in a new context. this time her as a gay woman taking a "man's role" (loving a woman) rather than as a closeted "homophobic" woman terrorizing mickey (for her own reasons, but still). secondary aside, "like men" is not actually Like Men - gay women accused of being a dangerous man-like presence never receive any actual privilege for it. it's similar to how transmisogyny frames trans women as dangerous for being "like men" in situations where no one actually seen as a man would be socially punished

[chilopodacrudus]

Who do you Want to Be? Chapter 3: I Met Someone Today.

CW: Graphic depictions of violence; cannibalism, cults, (extremely NON romanticized) physical and verbal abuse, major character death, death, blood and torture.

Allison: Allison led Piers down a long cement floored hallway. Checking every so often behind her to see what Piers is up to. He scared her but he was new; he was fresh, he hadn’t gotten the gist of things yet and she had some vague twisted hope that he would be able to help her. She was desperate at this point; possibly just as desperate as Piers was. Piers politely stopped several times as Allison tripped on the high heels she was wearing and the long skirt; cursing to herself and muttering an apology afterwards. They finally make it to the kitchen and Allison steps to the side to let him in. “Well uh...I’ll...see you at dinner.” She goes to walk away but is stopped by Piers carefully putting his hand along her shoulder.

Piers: “Wait; why don’t you stay.” His intense blue eyes looked her up and down trying to get a read. Nervousness; anyone would have been after what they’d just witnessed sure but he had several assumptions that he wanted answered. “I don’t bite.” He joked with her playfully as he gingerly laid down the body on the large metal prep table. Eyeing the knives and kitchen tools set up. It was a large kitchen like one you’d see at a large scale restaurant. Distinctive areas for butchering and meal prep separated by a large clear vinyl screen. He pulled the corpse from the bag and laid him down; sweetly placing his hand along his chest with a smile. “I wonder who he was…” He ticked his eyes back towards Allison who stiffly stood as far away as she was allowed. “Do you know?”

Allison: Her eyes wide she swallowed; taking a step back and again tripping on her skirt. “AH I HATE…” She held her hand up calming herself; she hated wearing skirts, hated wearing heels hated most stereotypical ‘feminine’ things in general but she didn’t voice such things. “No I…I didn’t know...him..” Her spine shivered; Piers was...different than the others. She picked up that he seemed to at least have some corrupted form of ‘empathy’ so maybe she was in luck after all. “I don’t know anything about...any of them...to be honest.” She never watched them prepare the bodies; Johnny didn’t either to be fair but she flinched as Piers took off his gloves, replacing them with a pair specifically for preparing meat and took his pick of tools. Her eyes ticked to the large gash along Piers' jawline then quickly looked away , unsure if she should note it. "that wounds pretty deep...by the way I can...fix it.

Piers: He spoke in a disappointed tone. “That’s a shame...I really would have liked to know him.” His attention then moving to the wound on his face as he touched it with his fingers and laughed shaking his head. "Sure thank you very much...but after the meal please." Going quiet for a moment as he went through the motions of a butcher just like this man was any other piece of meat; though there was a sense of respect about it. Cutting into the man’s stomach; he grabbed a gut hook to hollow him out speaking quietly as he did so. “Life is precious Allison.” He moved the body to the large industrial sink after the guts were removed; liver and heart set to the side which made Allison flinch. “I’m sure you know that but...I have always wondered…” He caught her gaze as he rinsed out the body thoroughly. “How do other people like me see the ones who’s lives they take? I’ve watched a lot of documentaries on the subject...but I haven’t really...clicked...with many of them. I’ve always wanted to meet someone like you; someone like the rest of your community here. So pardon all of my questions as they come up.”

Allison: She stood up straight with a sickening feeling in her guts from the ‘people like you’ statement. At least he didn’t see through her yet; at least she didn’t think so but Piers was being particularly hard to pinpoint for her right now. She needed to clear her head. “I think that’s very...kind...of you Piers. That you...see them as people.” She didn’t want to say too much; she had a feeling Piers wasn’t going to like it here, she could already feel the arguments in her ears. “Um…” She spoke softly and then forced a smile but before she could say anything else Piers turned to face her as he flayed the skin from the man in front of her.

Piers: “You remind me of my first; Allison.”

Allison: She didn’t like what she inferred from that.

Piers: “Her name was Ava; I love her dearly, til the day I die. Long...black silky hair just like yours; she was the nervous sort like you as well though...I can’t blame you for being nervous right now. Maybe you aren’t always so jittery.” He turned and poked the tip of his tongue out at her teasingly and went back to his work; he cut several thin slices from the belly meat of the man until he was satisfied he had enough for a large gathering, then carried them over to a metal pan, placing the heart and liver on it as well. He walked past Allison to the kitchen; pushing past the acrylic screen. “I’ll need some help from you in here; please.”

Allison: Try as she might she had no words; all of the color seemed to escape from her body as she listened to Piers rattle on but she did follow his orders, she was used to that at least. Standing awkwardly beside of Piers; still keeping her distance until he moved closer and smiled down at her.

Piers: “What did the cook usually make? Anything in particular?” He changed his gloves and looked through the cabinets trying to find spices but didn’t come up with much; quirking a brow but he did gather what he could, just nothing to his satisfaction. “Nothing with much flavor then huh?” He joked with her; noticing the pure ghostly white look on her face, his expression calmed and he looked at her lovingly. “Allison I’m not going to hurt you...we’re one in the same aren’t we? Not on the same SIDE mind you...I don’t see this as...taking sides.” He folded together a flurry of whatever spices he could find and coated the slices of stomach with them. Thinly slicing the liver and setting it off to the side; he wanted to impress these people, he’s not even sure why himself. The heart stayed worryingly raw but he did, at least wash it out. “No there’s no ‘sides’ in this; people are people and every single one deserves the best end they can get, which is why I’m going to turn this man into the best he can be.”

Allison: She scrunched her face and shook her head then awkwardly laughed; she couldn’t do much else, she was in awe of this man, she had no idea what to think of him. “Oh yes uh...nothing too fancy...nothing fancy at all but...you seem to be...knowledgeable at least. I um...I’m sorry I’ve just had a long day today uh...these...events are always a bit stressful you know...getting everything together. I’m not myself today...thank you for being so courteous Piers.” She bowed her head to him and looked away.

Piers: A smile on his face he finally looked away from her and started cooking; putting the heart straight into a pressure cooker and frying the stomach slices, the liver was fixed last, he didn’t have many tools at his disposal here so he fried that as well. Lamenting on the state of the kitchen but after he was done; he was at least somewhat satisfied. “Who is Johnny to you?”

Allison: She had been sitting in a chair waiting for him to finish; jumping up startled when she heard his voice again. “He’s my….” She thought to herself ‘captor’ ‘worst nightmare’ and blurted out. “Boyfriend.”

Piers: That’s all he needed to know on the matter; he didn’t take Johnny to be a very Kind person so he figures his assumption was correct. “I see. Well...I’m all finished up then; let’s get this to the guests.” He pulled out large white plates from the shelves and plated his work; placing it all on a large serving tray and hoisted it up after taking his gloves off and washing his hands. “Shall we?” He nodded to her.

Allison: She flicked her eyes to the meal in horror; she hated these nights, for obvious reasons, even if it looked more ‘edible’ than usual, it was still a nightmare to her. “Right..” She hastily made her way down the hall to the banquet hall. About a dozen guests sitting around the table; including Johnny and the scared man who has definitely not calmed down at all.

Johnny: He had a half mask on; the rest of the guests did too Piers noted, Johnny handed Allison her own designated mask before she took a seat near him as Johnny sat at the head of the table. He clapped his hands ushering everyone else to clap along with him. “Our new chef everyone; based on the smell you’re already hired Piers. Can’t be real choosy with chefs in our situation, you’re a blessing from the heavens friend.”

Piers: He sat the food down in the middle of the table; bowed his head and took a seat, he wasn’t immune to flattery but he was hesitant to accept it from Johnny. Flattery can be dangerous. “What can I say...it was fate.”

Johnny: He laughed and nodded to everyone in the room; every guest took out a small knife and pulled up their clothing, Piers saw that every guest had a number of short deep cuts lining their stomachs, he found this peculiar but he said nothing to question it. “May God look kindly down upon this blessing; amen.” An Amen from the rest of the table followed him as each guest cut one more time into their own flesh. Piers wasn’t big on religion but he didn’t make this known, he was sure this God they were referring to wasn’t exactly the one he was forcefully raised with so he tried not to think about it.

Piers: He bowed his head in time and passed around the plated food to everyone at the table; keeping himself from making a ‘Good God let’s eat’ joke but it was difficult. “I hope everyone enjoys it; if I’m to do this...’full time’...I’m going to need to go grocery shopping.”

Johnny: He was busy stuffing his face full of the food; it wasn’t the most flavorful thing that Piers has ever made but it was a large cry from what Johnny was used to. “You do whatever you need; I’ll fund it. Give me a list and I’ll send out Allison; anything at all Piers anything at all.”

Allison: She had to blend in; she had to, so she ate the flesh as well, much less enthusiastically than everyone else at the table but...she was trying. “Yes I can help.”

Piers: He shook his head and held his hand up. “I’ll do it myself; I can do my own shopping.” He smiled at Allison who quickly turned her head away.

Johnny: “Hey...Alli’s here to help aren’t you Alli...but yea I get it some of you cooks are a little particular but….Alli can help you with WHATEVER you need.”

Piers: He wanted to frown but didn’t; there was a sinister tone to that that he didn’t like the sound of but he nodded and smiled at Johnny wordlessly. He had a strong urge to learn more about Allison but he didn’t want Johnny involved in that; he decided.

[ylfva-remade]

jason todd with da autism…thoughts? i like to think he always seems angry and sarcastic bc he doesn’t try to emote much and is blunt and he’s like damn why does everyone in da club hate me like bro.

THIS IS SO FUCKING REAL... i think if jason has autism its undiagnosed which causes him a LOT of issues like... he doesn't understand why he feels and acts and thinks the way he does you know? he def struggles with tone and being polite i think. i also think he has trouble with emotional regulation (just like me fr) and that can cause a lot of issues. I also think he experiences sthn that i do where like. he has trouble identifying and understanding his emotions.

he really does try i think. but the way he communicates plus his trauma makes it hard for him to connect :((

for more positive stuff: he stims by cleaning / repairing his guns, and doing so is like a ritual for him. training and exercise are really good for him bc he likes the sensory feeling and theyre productive. i also think he doesn't like unwanted touch from other people, like he hates it. (partially trauma, partially autism. just like me fr!!!!) but if he has someone he's close to and he feels comfortable enough to be physically vulnerable he would adore like. clinging onto someone or having them lie on top of him. full body weight n stuff. human weighted blanket.

the reason he's such a quick learner is bc his autism lets him become obsessed with a subject and learn everything about it. his obsession with certain things is totally an autism moment.. i also think he enjoys reading a lot, and he prefers physical books to ebooks because of the feeling, plus he's so used to the feeling of holding books and he doesn't like to change that. some of his comfort items are definitely certain books.

he's very big on having his house be tidy (we've seen this in comics i think, where his apartment is rlly clean) and he has a bunch of systems for keeping it that way.

i think if tim/dick/damian/bruce/etc were to ever get diagnosed he'd be like ? thats like a normal thing though? everyone does that? not in a rude way just in a he doesnt know hes autistic way. he takes a few days to recover from this. hes not going to get tested though lets be real lol

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 || (very dark) 70s!Bucky x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: he tried to be sympathetic to your cause, he really did, but he couldn’t just let you get away with disrespecting him like that.  

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut (noncon, plus breeding kink and tons of degradation, like very heavy degradation, and multiple orgasms/overstimulation), misogyny, a bit of dumbification, housewife kink, ‘sir’ kink (brief), choking, implied anal, spitting (not on the reader, unfortunately lmao), quite a bit more than period-typical sexism, awful awful awful this fic is absolutely awful

                            Brooklyn, 1970.

Bucky’s mornings were sacred.  He had his rituals: showering, cooking breakfast, reading the paper and having his first drink and cigarette of the day, all before he left for work.

But throughout this entire week, his mornings had been ruined by the stupid fucking protest in the park just outside his window.  And to think he’d actually paid more for an apartment with a view of the park— he hadn’t realized then that the “view” was gonna be a bunch of hippies creating awful music and an unbearable smell that left his whole apartment reeking of reefer if he dared to open his window.

Attempting to ignore it for a week only made him more resentful with each passing day.  Each time he figured the crowd would surely leave soon or at least be quiet for the night, they seemed to somehow get louder just to spite him.

He probably should've waited until he was a bit less agitated to go down and try to bargain with you, but he stormed down there instead and tapped you on the shoulder when his presence alone wasn't enough to distract you from your incessant chanting.

“Would you consider being quiet?" he asked firmly.  "I have to work in the morning and—”

“We won’t be quiet until women have equal treatment under the eyes of society and the law,” you interrupted to explain condescendingly, shocking him with your icy tone.  He could hardly believe your attitude, in fact he couldn’t remember any woman speaking to him that way in his life: so far, he wasn’t enjoying it.

“I just thought you could be a little more respectful,” Bucky shot back, even more stern.  “You’re not making anyone wanna support your movement by acting entitled and inconveniencing everyone.”

“I’m sorry the revolution is inconvenient for you,” you replied, but it didn’t sound much like an apology. 

He wanted to say more but you blew him off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him confused and irritated and livid.  Up until now he had been quietly skeptical about all this talk of liberation but now he saw it for the poison it really was.  A girl like you— who could've been a real looker with some willingness to try and a better attitude— talking to a man like him with so much hate and over what, a polite request?

This could not be tolerated; he couldn't let you get away with acting like that.  And lucky for you, he was exactly the guy you needed to teach you your lesson.

The good thing about hippies high on shrooms is they aren’t the most observant.  When he returned to the demonstration area the next night, he was able to grab you roughly and pull you back from the crowd with almost no trouble at all, dragging you into an empty alley and clamping his hand down over your mouth as your eyes went wide and your throat vibrated with silent screams.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed against your ear, “whatcha fightin’ for?”

He liked the way it felt to have you squirming against his grasp, using all your strength and not even getting close to escaping.  

“How does it feel to know I can do anything I want to you?” he growled against your ear.  “C’mon, sweetheart, can’t you put up a better fight than that?  I thought you believed in equality… you should be able to get away if you’re as strong as I am.”

He felt your warm tears trailing down around his fingers which held your face tightly, the struggle of your limbs slowing and weakening slightly.  His cock was already getting hard as he imagined the moment you would finally give in.

“You remember me, don’t you?  You didn’t need to be so rude, darlin’.  You could’ve just been nice and none of this would be happening.”

Your elbow shot back into his ribs and he exhaled sharply but didn't let go, grabbing your wrists and holding your arms to your chest as he pinned you to the wall.

"Oh, that's not gonna work, babydoll.  I'm so much stronger and bigger than you, all you're gonna do is make me angrier.  Is that what you want, sweetheart?  To make me angry?" he asked mockingly, leaning in to lick the shell of your ear as you tried to turn away.  “Pretty girl like you would make a great wife, why would you want anything else?”

Ignoring your struggle, he reached into your shirt and purred as he groped your chest, your nipples hardening when he pinched them.  “Maybe I can get behind this bra-burning thing if it means having easier access to your tits all the time,” he grinned.  “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when I can see them through your shirt?  Shouldn’t be showing ‘em off if you don’t want any attention.”

As fun as it was to play with your tits, he had bigger plans, so he reached lower to start tugging down your jeans, your legs uselessly kicking as he exposed your ass and thighs.

His cock was already rock hard as he hastily opened his fly and pulled it out with one hand, leaning back to spit on it quickly.  He spread the fluid with a few strokes over his length, figuring it would be enough to get inside you even if he didn’t really care if he hurt you.  

Your eyes went wide and your head bucked wildly as he poked the head of it against your opening, your body fighting a little harder once again.  The irony of that, though, was that you were already plenty wet in spite of what he had expected; it was so much funnier to watch you struggle now that he knew you were not-so-secretly enjoying it.

“Don’t be so dramatic," he chuckled darkly, "I bet you can take a cock real easy since you believe in all this ‘free love’ bullshit.”

He groaned as he pushed into you, impressed by how tight you were— so tight that it made his cock throb right away, your walls pulsing and rippling around him as he filled you to the brim.

“Oh fuck, there you go…” he hissed, smiling as you sobbed harder and struggled a bit more before finally relaxing into his tight embrace.  "You're gonna take it all, baby, every fuckin' inch of me."

A hard sob choked out of you every time he slammed himself to the end of you; he could feel the hatred radiating from you, the way you would kill him in a moment if only you weren't so weak.  But he could feel your reluctant acceptance, too, and the way it was slowly turning into euphoria— you were finally starting to like how it felt to be helpless to him, it was obvious with the way your pussy gave him such a warm and willing welcome while your pretty tits got even harder.

You clearly wanted to hate him, but your body knew better.

"You think I'm a sexist pig, I'm sure," he chuckled, "but I'm really not— I love women!  And you know what I love most?  Huh?"

He felt you nervously shake your head behind his hand and he laughed.

"I love the way you get so dumb when you get a cock in you.  All those useless little thoughts leaving your head when you're finally getting fucked right."

Your cries got louder even though they were still muffled by his hand, your sweet little pussy giving him a squeeze of encouragement.

"It's okay to like it, babydoll, it's what you were meant for.  Made to be my brainless fucktoy… born to serve me," he growled.  “You really should learn to appreciate," he grunted between brutal thrusts, "that your only purpose is to keep my dinner hot and my cock warm.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and he felt your walls bear down on him tightly, wetness seeping down around him.

"Oh fuck, are you coming?  Shit," he moaned.  "Looks like you really needed to be put in your place, just needed to be used... god, you made a fuckin' mess, too, you soaked my cock…"

Your little hands tightened into fists, pushing against where his arm held them back, but he stayed steady as he pumped into you, letting himself get a bit lost in the feeling of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

It felt so damn good to have a cunt coming around him, but it was even better knowing that you were fighting it and still couldn’t stop it, completely helpless to how good he was making you feel.

You almost screamed under his hand when he reached down to quickly rub your clit, your back arching to try to run away from his touch; poor thing, you were so sensitive it probably hurt you, but he was having too much fun watching you realize you were going to come again.

"Yeah, gimme another one, slut," he grinned, your legs quivering as waves of slick coated him and started to even drip down your legs.  "Can't stop coming like the dirty whore you are, huh?  Bet nobody's made you come like this before— cause nobody's given it to you right.  Nobody's shown ya what it's supposed to be like when a man takes you and makes you his."

From the way you moaned softly, teary eyes fluttering shut, he knew you liked the sound of that.

"Yeah, wanna be mine, baby?  Wanna be my little slut?  Or do you want me to pump this pussy full and leave you here on the ground for any other man that comes by to use you if he needs?"

You groaned softly, a weak little noise, and he felt his cock flex; as much as he wanted this to last as long as possible, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“M’close, honey,” he breathed.  “I’m gonna come.”

He laughed breathlessly when you shut your eyes, like you were trying to go somewhere else in your mind, trying to pretend this wasn’t real.  But it was real, and he wasn’t going to let you forget that.  He was elated to make your nightmares come true.

"I sure wouldn't mind pulling out and covering that pretty face you've got,” he hissed.  “It'd be funny to see you go back to your little march and show them how owned you are.  But not today, babydoll, I think there's only one way you're gonna learn your lesson."

Another muffled gurgle from you, and this time it didn’t even sound like protest.  Maybe you were just too tired for that at this point, but it gave him hope that you could finally behave.

"I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth and you're gonna beg me to come inside you, is that clear?" he grunted, feeling you nod vigorously.  "You're not gonna scream are you?"

You shook your head, and he slowly pulled his hand from your mouth as you gasped for air.  "Please— come in me," you panted.

"Address me as 'sir'," he instructed.

"Please, sir, I— I want you to come," you whined.

He chuckled right against your ear, feeling you shiver in his grasp.  "Honey, I don't give a fuck what you want."

To think you ever resisted your natural desire for submission was absurd now, considering the way that statement made you openly moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep you’ll never get it outta you, sweetheart.”

One more orgasm washed over you, making him laugh darkly while he watched you bite your lip to attempt to stay quiet; but that was impossible once he fucked you harder just to spite you, having to hold you tight to make sure he got as deep in you as possible.  Your whole body shook as he slammed into you, and he laughed at how dumb and helpless you looked.

"Bet you're on those new birth control pills," he grimaced.  They really weren’t that new, but he still hadn’t gotten used to them.  "Makes me sick to think you're letting a perfectly good womb go to waste.  Betcha want me to breed you nice and deep, yeah?  Wanna get knocked up?  You don't even care that I'm a stranger, you wanna get your pussy filled by any random man's come so you can have any random man's baby, ain't that right?"

At first he had worried that you would scream or cry for help, but now his concern was more that your moans would be too loud and somebody would catch the two of you in this alley.  Even if it was obvious now that you wanted it, public indecency was still a crime.

Good thing he had a new way to shut you up: his hand tight around your throat, silencing your sobs to blessed silence.  It was so hot to have you entirely at his mercy like that, to feel your pulse beneath his fingers, that he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up his thrusts suddenly.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, “fuck, y-you… little whore…”

He had a habit of running his mouth when he was right on the edge, and the way your pussy was milking him for all he was worth made him spit out whatever filth he could think of.  

“Stupid fuckin' bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he fucked you as fast and rough as he could, chasing his high with no regard for your pleasure or your pain.  "Dumb whore, fuck, you stupid— ah, shit— stupid fucking cunt!"

He cried out as he filled you, groaning loudly with every pump of his seed into your waiting body.  Only when he was sure every drop was inside you did he release his grip on your neck, a loud gasp coming first before a few coughs and chokes that only made his cock harder despite having just filled you.

You started to struggle again, and he couldn’t believe it— after everything, did you still not know your place?

There wasn’t much time to relax and enjoy the afterglow when you were already trying to get away, and so he had to hold you tight again while he smiled exhaustedly.

“N-no,” you stammered, and he covered your mouth again as he pulled your head back to rest on his shoulder.  Clearly he hadn’t done enough yet to fuck that word out of you.

“Where ya goin’, sweetheart?” he panted against your ear, still catching his breath, his chest covered in a thin layer of sweat where it was exposed by his shirt.  “You’ve still got another hole to fill.”