#BECAUSE I KNOW I WILL KEEP WRITING MORE IN THE FUTURE

[batfsm]

I wrote a fanfic for this but I now need a title…and a summary.

Warnings: I don’t say outright in the story, in my opinion, but i imply a lot of child abuse and sexual assault to children. So be careful please.

I do speak of death and drugs but only in passing.

The story is under the cut. It got away from me. I just wanted to write about Jason and Tim running from Bruce and next thing I know Dick and Alfred are in it, Leslie is mentioned as is Jim, Roy, Lian, Oliver, Damian, and Talia. (Cass and Duke are implied.)

I hope you enjoy @ky-landfill. I’m putting it up tomorrow on my AO3 so I’ll edit in the link then. (Hopefully a name and summary also. Especially a title.)

Edit: Figured both out.

Meetings

Summary: A sound had Jason dropping the tire.

A sound had Jason dropping the tire he just took off and reaching for Tim who came willingly.

Tim climbed onto Jason’s back as the older boy started to run, a move they had practiced for hours until they got it smoothly, and Jason gripped his tire iron harder as he moved faster.

A body suddenly dropping in front of him had Jason sliding to a stop and crunching a bit.

Tim peeked over Jason’s shoulder and felt his eyes widen. Other than that the only other reaction was his tightening grip on his elder brother’s shoulders.

Jason glared as he shifted a bit more to hide Tim and lifted his tire iron. “Leave us alone!”

Batman glared. “Why did you take my tires?”

“None of ya business. We aren’t anymore, so let us go.”

“You’re coming with me.” Batman I growled.

“Fuck off, you big boob!” Jason shouted before rushing Batman.

The man was so surprised that he couldn’t stop the hit to his abdomen. As Batman doubled over, Jason ran past as fast as he could.

[They wouldn’t be found for a week and it wasn’t by Batman. Robin, who came back to visit Agent A and was reluctantly patrolling with Batman, though he was internally glad to be home, ran into Tim by accident.

Tim, when faced with one of his heroes, just stared as he had at Batman before grinning and asking Robin if he wanted to come meet his big brother.

Robin, who was told about the story by a mulish Batman, grinned brightly and agreed.

The young boy led the way to their hideout only to find Jason struggling against a man. Robin didn’t even blink as he took the man down and then fussed over the two boys.

Tim clung to Jason who clung back as Robin looked around and then called Agent A who came to pick the boys up and take them to dinner and then Doctor Thompson’s clinic to be looked over.

As Leslie looked the two civilians over, Agent A snuck out and back to the hideout where the downed man was just coming around.

(Commissioner Gordon ended up with a man beaten up and files full of evidence against the man and others hurting children. Jim Gordon took pleasure in slapping charge after charge on the man and the others, including more police officers who he had thought were not corrupt.)

When Agent A joined the trio, Batman was with him. (Bruce had gotten his own hits in when he saw files on Dick and Roy. Oliver had been alerted and was hunting down the men and women in Star City that were a bit to interested in children, especially his son.) Batman, who had found the files and most of the evidence, dropped to his knees and hugged the three boys. He silently vowed to do better in his relationship with Dick and to keep a close eye on the two younger boys and where they would be placed.

Batman redid the vow months later to include all his children when he finally admitted to Alfred and himself that Jason and Tim were best left with the family.

Jason and Tim, like Dick, was the best thing that happened to him.

All his children, present and future were.]

[Roy and Oliver’s arguments in the future would never get as bad as they should have been because Oliver followed Bruce’s example and opened up to his son. Roy would be able to fall back on his dad when he started to get addicted and would have the support he desperately needed from the start. Lian would grow and never die since she was with her dad and grandpa all the time and not just Roy.

The whole family would be happier.]

[Jason, by way, never became estranged from the family. He does die but Talia puts him straight into the Pit and then takes him home with Damian.]

Fuck off, you big boob!

[valar-did-me-wrong]

I keep seeing this sentiment among people that"the showrunners are giving into /going to give into Tolkien dude bros" and before too many fans actually start believing all this I jusy want to remind everyone somethings about..

The Hate Storm of 2022 🌪️

And how back then this show stood up with Ismael, Sophia, Cynthia, Morfydd, Sara, Lenny Meghan & Markella when the online hate was 1000000000000x worse than what you see rn.

If you weren't tuned into ROP back then, I assure you whatever vitriol you see about the show rn on twitter or ragetube is nothing compared to what was happening in 2022.

On sites like Instagram, not only bots & racists but even normal regular people used to directly bully you and pile on if you left even a single positive emoji in the show's comments.

Even many left leaning Tolkien blogs here were parroting lore points (originating on racist youtube channels) that were based solely on PJ movies, praising WB like it was a non-profit fighting against world hunger & warning to block ROP blogs on sight for watching a show made by Christian men

(PROF. TOLKIEN WAS A HINDU MONK WHO SOLELY WORE SAFFRON DHOTI I GUESS RIGHT?!?)

It was so much that back then the official trop Instagram account DELETED all their promotional photos, cast intros, teasers, trailers EVERYTHING to post a statment that condemned all the racist & horribly misogynistic vitriol thrown at the POC & female cast of the show.

They did all this when the hate campaigners were publically encouraging masses to review bomb ROP across internet to the point that IMDb had to suspend posting user ratings of the show without reviewing them first.

And the global public sentiment was basically hacked by loud incessant misinformation, lies and rage bait that made it trendy & even progressive to bash on the show.

Now despite all this the showrunners stood by their creative choices & actors back then just how they are doing it rn imo..

Remember when the Haters™ complained about Arondir being "too good of a warrior to be true"?? The show did not let that change their decision of showing Arondir as an exceptionally skilled warrior. Even in S2 when his storyline got disturbed by Nazanin leaving, they made sure to give him as many action sequences as possible, made him fight beside and more than High King Gil Galad of the Noldor & Elrond freaking Peredhel in the Siege.. even highlighted all this in BTS videos.

And when the the internet pushed that Galadriel should not be fighting on the frontline but rather float in forests?? They reminded the lore bros of Nerwen with her hairstyle exactly how Tolkien wrote and still made her fight orcs, rescue survivors, negotiate sucessful peace treaties, duel with Sauron & kick his ass in an ultimate finale showdown.

And orc family hate?? Despite all the loud nonsense around it they highlighted it with dedicated posts & Tolkien quotes instead of hiding it away.

And finally, despite consistent continuous complaints against the Harfoot storyline, they did not shrink it or write it out.. because in their vision of Tolkien the little guys & their stories are important so they stay, even going into S3.

I'm not saying there aren't any problems with their depiction of POC characters or writing or pacing. There DEFINITELY are, I mean look at who all died among Elrond's company... The problems especially with minor POC characters are there & VERY visible in S2. (which I hope they fix in future seasons)

But imo these things aren't because the show wants to please racist ragetubers or try to win over a group of Tolkien fanatics who will never become show fans anyway. You, me, my dog, the Haters™ and even Mcpayne know this.. it's common sense atp.

All to say this show was literally forged in the fires of Internet hate storms, I don't think the pathetic flicker of the remaining Haters matters to the showrunners anymore.

(Also the ratings people keep using to scare the fans are US ONLY ratings & data, there's a whole world out here beyond US & the show remained in the Prime top shows across many countries for weeks & weeks after the S2 finale.. and the constant stream of new viewers that are starting the show for the first time just on this website should be proof enough that the show is doing fine) Don't let the show haters' talking points get to you!

Season 3 is, for all intents & purposes, already green lit and ROP is going to complete the story it started out to tell.. don't worry needlessly :)

edited Tolkien lore bros to Tolkien dude bros (I'm not saying all masc fans of Tolkien are racist sexists I promise, it's just a term we use here 😭) after someone from outside of ROP pointed they have a problem.. clarifying things here also, if you love Tolkien & dislike ROP for reasons other than female lead/POC characters/not a copy of PJ = bad etc etc, I've no problem with your personal opinions & this post is not about you :)

[grudgecollector]

Afterglow | Nam-gyu / American!Reader

You're reading part five

Story Summary: Nam-gyu gets a new job and finds himself falling for the girl behind the deli counter.

Words: 2.3k

Tags/Warnings: Nam-gyu and Thanos have PTSD, canon divergence, Thanos lives, Nam-gyu doesn't know how to process negative emotions, angst, self harm, fluff, smut, dry humping, p n v, unprotected, creampie

A/N: Haiii what a whiplash of tags

It's been absolutely forever since I've written smut so I apologize if this isn't good LMAO

I just felt I might as well give you guys a little gift after last chapter

Anyway I'm not sure if this is going to be the last chapter. But I feel like it's a fitting end for these two. I might do some little tid bits in the future, I've got some ideas already, but you'll just have to bare with me.

I'm a little iffy about this chapter. I have no idea if it makes sense or if it's actually good, but I think that's only because I kind of struggled to write it and have been staring at it WAY TOO LONG.

MASTERLIST

Lightning strikes rippled through the dark rainy skies above Nam-gyu’s apartment. Streaks of yellow light blooming before each thunderous boom echoed above. The awning above shielded Nam-gyu from the downpour that fell in thick drops, smacking against the ground in quick succession. 

Nam-gyu’s chest felt hollow, emotions numb, but his head still had a storm raging inside. He felt terrible. You had been so excited to show him and Su-bong all that Halloween had to offer in America.

He would be lying if he said he didn't share your enthusiasm, but the events of this morning had ruined everything.

A particularly bad nightmare had woken Nam-gyu up. Sweat was covering his chest and the back of his neck. He blinked several times trying to register where he was, your horrified screams still echoing through his head. 

He had wanted to call you, to receive the comfort your voice always brought him, but he didn’t want to worry you so early in the morning.

Throughout the day his thoughts ran wild, the nightmare playing over and over in more and more gruesome scenarios. Nam-gyu felt like he was being sucked back into that nightmarish place with each minute that passed. 

Nam-gyu flicked the flimsy ashes of his cigarette onto the pavement below. He picked at the skin around his fingernails carelessly. His eyelids sagged a little, his lips downturned in a cold expression, irritation jabbing itself into his side. 

He honestly felt embarrassed, a brief insecure thought of “Am I overreacting?” passing through his head. Nam-gyu was used to acting like this around Su-bong, having witnessed each other at their very worst many times. But to have you see this part of him? It made him want to crawl out of his skin.

You shouldn’t have to be with someone so broken. 

Nam-gyu didn’t want to admit it to himself, but his friend was right. 

He couldn’t keep tearing himself apart like this. And he knew once he fell down that slippery slope, he would drag you down right alongside him.

He would become the worst version of himself all over again. The self centered, arrogant, careless asshole he always became when he was high. 

The cherry of his cigarette was so bright against the blackened night sky, the white paper burning back, peeling into a burnt black before turning grey as he took another slow drag. 

Just one more score… One more hit… Just one more bump… One last time…

The cigarette sizzled against Nam-gyu’s wrist, he sucked in a loud hiss through his teeth. The burning pain bloomed through his skin as he let the remains of the orange filter fall to the ground pathetically, an angry red burn staring back at him. 

~~~

The next few days dragged on at an agonizing pace. You hadn’t seen Nam-gyu or Su-bong since that night, and it left a pit of hopelessness in your stomach. You constantly had to remind yourself to put your phone away, rereading the text Su-bong had sent you over and over again. 

“Just give us a few days and I promise you’ll get some answers.”

Each passing second you waited for that chime to come. Glancing back to the black screen of your phone more often than you would like to admit. That nausea stirred by anxiety bit at the back of your throat for hours on end during the second day, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

In a way you were terrified that this would somehow result in the end of your relationship, overthinking every possible outcome that could happen once Su-bong finally does text you. 

You knew deep down that you were being ridiculous. But in the past your relationships have ended over much more trivial things. Stupid things that could have been talked about, solved with a simple conversation. 

No, this couldn’t be what ended things with Nam-gyu. You couldn’t let someone like him slip through your fingers like that. No matter how broken or bruised he thought he was. 

But as you sat on his couch listening to Su-bong recount the events they experienced while in South Korea, you finally started to understand. 

The blood and carnage they witnessed, it would have been unbelievable if Su-bong didn’t show you the articles to back up everything he said. 

“BREAKING: Underground deathmatch operation in South Korea finally comes to a halt, forty two people rescued, number of arrests unknown at this time.” 

You looked over at Nam-gyu who was at the other end of the couch, legs tucked into his chest as he smoked a blunt lazily, looking everywhere but at you. He hasn’t said a word since you sat down, his fingers dragging across his bottom lip softly as he listened to his friend talk. 

A tense silence hung in the air after Su-bong finished. His eyes lingered on Nam-gyu before looking at you. 

How does someone even respond to something like this? Where do you even begin? You have never watched someone die, let alone be murdered. In all honesty you thought that Nam-gyu might have just relapsed, and that he was too scared to tell you. 

You could have never guessed it was something as horrifying as this. 

Nam-gyu cleared his throat, “Please don’t feel like you need to pity me. The stuff we went through was… It was bad but-" He was quiet for a second, stuck on his own words, "Fuck I don’t even know how to talk about this shit, nevermind.” He laughed bitterly, going back to smoking. 

Being stuck in an environment like that can fundamentally change a person for life. Preyed upon at their lowest points, broken down into the worst versions of yourself. Hundreds of people ripping each other apart lest they fall first, having to fight your way out with no guarantee that you would live to see the sunlight again.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for them. 

“All we’re asking is for you to be a little patient with us.” Su-bong said finally, picking awkwardly at the strings on his pants. 

You realize that they both must have felt extremely vulnerable right now. One of their darkest secrets finally out in the open, revealing the throbbing gash that was their minds. 

“Of course.” 

~~~

Nam-gyu’s room was freezing. A fan humming loudly in the corner of his room, the notch turned to the highest setting. The curtain over his window fluttered, the streetlights from outside briefly lighting his sparsely decorated walls, illuminating your soft gaze. Nam-gyu could almost trick himself into thinking stars were in your eyes, sparkling as they stared into his soul. 

Your fingertips kissed the skin of his cheek, your lips a sweet caress against his as you whispered softly to him. Words that soaked into his skin like sunlight on a summer’s day, he could almost hear birds chirp in the back of his mind as his eyes slipped closed.

That storm raging inside of him slowly turned into a soft drizzle, and for a brief moment Nam-gyu almost felt like a rainbow could bloom from behind the grey clouds of his mind. 

You made everything feel right. 

Every thorny fear stabbed into Nam-gyu’s quickly beating heart kissed away by each touch. 

“I love you, Nam-gyu… More than I have ever loved anyone.” You whispered against his cheek. 

His blunt fingernails scratched oh so softly at the skin under your shirt, drawing meaningless patterns as you continued showering him in your adoration.

Nam-gyu swore that his heart was going to beat out of his chest, the only thing that plagued his mind now was you. 

“I’m really sorry…” Nam-gyu finally spoke up, his voice weaker than he had expected it to be. 

You looked at him curiously, fingers combing through his hair gently. Goosebumps rose up on Nam-gyu’s arms as he tried to think about what he wanted to say next. 

“I know that you were really scared a few days ago… And I just feel bad, I should have told you about all of this sooner, but…” He took a deep, shaky breath, “I was terrified that you would see me differently. Like I'm some broken… thing that needed fixing.” 

A kiss was pressed softly to Nam-gyu’s forehead, then to his cheek, there was a long beat of silence. Nam-gyu could tell you were carefully figuring out how to word your response. 

“Don’t apologize for not telling me. I’m just thankful that you felt safe enough to let me in like this.” 

~~~

Over the next month things started to settle back down. Nam-gyu still struggled, as any normal person would in his circumstance. But eventually your usual routines were slowly restored, and things felt like they were back to normal again.

Nam-gyu was smiling a lot more, his usual playful attitude finally shining back through. It seemed as though a weight was finally being lifted from his tense shoulders, allowing him to relax back into his life. 

And as a way to provide a helpful distraction from their troubles, you got them into one of your favorite shows that you watched as a teenager. 

It was an American show that neither man had heard of before, they were interested enough to start watching it, and now they were hooked. You wished so desperately you could watch for the first time all over again. Wishing you could share their shocked reactions when their wide eyes would meet yours. 

“Oh my god- get this bitch out of my face.” Nam-gyu groaned, a particularly annoying character walking on screen. 

“He’s really not that bad.” Su-bong commented, crunching loudly on a piece of popcorn, “At least he killed that one guy.” 

Nam-gyu glances up at you from where his head was laying on your thigh, as if to say “Can you believe this guy?” before rolling his eyes and saying,

“Yeah that was the most useful thing he’s done this entire season.”

A small laugh leaves you, your fingers softly playing with his hair. Your fingertips softly brushed against the shell of his ear, making him shiver a little. There was a certain heat to your touch, grabbing his attention as you trailed closer to the base of his neck and around to trace the side of his adams apple. 

You watched him carefully. Watched as his hand slowly came up to your thigh, gripping just above your knee, his body was more tense than before. But his eyes didn’t leave the screen for a second, not even as your fingertips dipped below the collar of his shirt and your fingernails scratched against the skin just below his collarbone. 

~~~

His lips whispered across your skin, fingers gripping harshly on your hips as he brought you closer. You could feel how hard he was against your clothed center. You could feel the heat of his cock pressing into you as you grind down against him, small moans slipping from his mouth between breathless kisses. 

Your neck was wet with his spit, bite marks already blooming into delicious bruises. One of your hands weaved through his hair, deepening your desperation as his tongue made its way past your parted lips. 

He guides your hips with precision, the press of him making your desire heighten with each salacious movement. You felt like a woman starved, every fibre of your being craving him. With every sound that left his lips, every time your name dripped from his tongue. 

“Fuck, honey.” He whispered against your lips, he braced a hand on your back as he flipped the both of you over, his hips working against yours harder than before, “Fuck…”

Nam-gyu separated himself from you for just a second, pushing his boxers down just enough. You were quick to remove your own underwear, throwing it to the floor. Your legs quickly found their way back to his waist, your hands pulling him back down for another kiss. 

You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. Your lips pressed soft kisses to his jaw when he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, pushing himself inside of you so slowly. The stretch of his cock made your lips part with a gasp, your nails bit into his shoulder as he started grinding into you, the tip kissing your cervix. 

“Shit, baby, always so fucking tight.” His words sent jolts through your whole body, “So good...” He whispered into your ear. 

His first thrust almost pushed the air from your lungs, a steady pace being set as his hands explored your chest. He squeezed your breast before he brought his hand to brush his thumb against your throat. 

Sweet moans poured from his mouth as he pressed messy kisses to the side of your throat. His hips slapped yours loudly, his cock ramming so deep inside you that it leaves you breathless. You felt like you were vibrating with pleasure. 

“‘S fucking good- shit.” His hand trailed down between your sweaty bodies, his middle finger finding your clit. Sparks traveled through your body to the tips of your toes, his fingers massaged against your bundle of nerves softly.

“Please…” You whine out pathetically. 

“You gonna cum baby?” You could see the smirk playing at the corner of his lips. 

His hips were slamming into you harder now, fucking into you like it would be the last time. He was savoring every single drag of his cock inside your velvet walls, squeezing against him so tightly, pulling him back in. 

“Nam-gyu, oh fuck!” Your thighs shook against him as your orgasm crashed into you, your fingers clawing against his shoulders. 

“Shit.” He gasped, his hips grinding into yours and you could feel him twitch as he finally came, hot spurts coating your insides. 

Nam-gyu’s eyes met yours. They were soft, swimming with unspoken emotions, a small smile tugged at his lips. His fingers brushed away the sweaty strands of hair from your cheek, fingertips grazing your jaw as he brought you into a crushing kiss. A kiss that said, 

I love you… I love you… I love you…

[noc1818]

A Score to be Settled - Chrollo X Reader Fanfic

Hey everyone! I've had this idea for a Chrollo fic swirling around in my head for a while now, where Chrollo wrongs the reader, who's also from Meteor City, during their childhood. This event impacts them so deeply that they’re willing to go to any lengths to seek revenge and settle the score. This chapter is just the backstory leading up to the main plot. If you're interested in reading more, let me know—I’m really enjoying writing it and have a lot more I want to explore! Plus, it’s a fun project to help me get back into writing again. I truly appreciate any support!

Also, this is mostly unedited because I was too excited to share, so feel free to let me know if anything needs fixing!

A few warnings for this piece: Dark themes, death, angst, and intense struggles for survival.

Chapter One: The Debt

Meteor City - Residential Area, 1984

Digging through the scrap was a common occurrence in Meteor City. It was the only way to survive. It always astonished you that people would just throw out and dump some of this stuff without a second thought. Had they never had to scavenge for food or clothes? The idea of having a roof over your head and some form of food security felt like a distant daydream. But that was not your reality. Even at such a young age, the harsh truth of Meteor City was ingrained in your very being.

This had always been the case, at least since you could remember. Your first true memory was when you were five years old, hiding in a broken refrigerator with your little sister, Sumi, who was only two at the time, from some less-than-favorable characters searching the area. That was the reality for all the kids in Meteor City—except for Sumi. She was always a ray of light. Even in the darkest moments, she could spin a positive outlook, which, while uplifting, was sometimes a bit overwhelming.

Recently, she’d been going on and on about a group of kids, she’d met who performed shows for anyone willing to watch. Every day, she came back excited, telling you all about the latest show and its colorful cast of characters. You had promised her that one day you’d go with her to check out the performances. But the reality was that most of your days—hell, your entire childhood—had been spent scavenging and trying to make the best shelter you could for Sumi and yourself.

Still, if you were honest with yourself, your efforts were starting to pay off. You had gathered enough food and non-perishable goods to start a stockpile for the coming winter.

Not only had you been gathering food, but you had been saving Jenny, hoping to accumulate enough to get you and your sister out of the city. At thriteen years old, hidden in your makeshift shack and buried deep within an old metal tea kettle, you had quite a bit saved up. The reality was that it wasn’t much, but to a child with nothing, a hundred Jenny could change a life. Soon, you and Sumi would leave this scrap heap behind and start a real life. You’d be able to give her a solid foundation and a secure future.

As if on cue, scrambling down the narrow paths between the trash heaps, Sumi appeared. She ran toward you in her oversized pink sweater, patched and worn where the fabric had torn over time. She wore frayed blue shorts and dirty old sneakers. As she approached, you noticed her shoes were untied again and made a note to try to teach her how to tie them properly.

Upon seeing you, Sumi immediately called out, “Big Sis!”

Looking up, you gave her a warm smile and a wave. “Sumi, be careful running like that! You might fall!”

Hearing your call, she slowed down and made her way to your makeshift shelter. You had found a space between two scrap heaps, covered with metal sheets that mostly kept the rain out during downpours. You’d draped a cloth over the outside to help keep out the cold and block prying eyes from seeing inside.

Sumi walked over with a big smile, immediately hugging you tightly. “Big Sis, the show today was so cool! They were doing a musical.”

You hummed in acknowledgment of her excited ramblings. Your focus was more on her worn shoes and thinking how you might be able to get her a new pair. But Sumi bright, attentive eyes and her soft call of your name brought your attention back to the present.

“Y/N, are you listening?” she asked, tilting her head with a playful smile.

You nodded, ruffling her hair as you gave her your full attention. “Yes, I’m listening. Tell me all about the play. You said it was a musical, right?”

Sumi’s face lit up as she started rambling in detail about the play, the songs they sang, and the performances. It made you happy to know she had found something that made her so happy and allowed her to still be a kid.

Sumi’s gaze then shifted to the bread rations you’d found and set out for the two of you. She eagerly sat down on the dirt, ready to eat.

“Also, Big Sis, my friend from the play... Can she come over to eat sometime?” she asked, her brown eyes filled with hope.

Typically, you would say no. It was hard enough to feed just the two of you. But this was another kid—another kid from Meteor City—and she made your little sister happier than anyone else could. So, with a reluctant sigh, you nodded, saying, “Sure, but just her, okay?”

Sumi’s eyes widened, and she beamed. “Oh, good! She’ll be so excited when she gets back!”

That last part caught your attention—when she gets back. You wondered what Sumi meant by that, but rather than ask, you focused on the task at hand: getting something to eat. Hunger was often your main drive, having never truly been full your entire life. The two of you ate your bread and chatted the night away until it was time to sleep. You shared a torn-up mattress you’d found one day.

As your sister fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, you found yourself wide awake as always. The night was especially cold, even with the cloth covering the sides of your shelter. The cold air still billowed in, leaving you shivering to your core. Unable to sleep, you quietly got up and made your way outside.

Despite the chill, it was a beautiful night. The full moon illuminated the ruins of the city, casting a soft light on the heaps of metal scrap. The sky was clear—a rare sight since the smog usually made it nearly impossible to see the stars. But tonight, they shone bright and radiant, lighting up the darkness.

Little did you know, that on such a peaceful night, your life would change forever because of one mistake.

The sound of scrap being knocked over in the distance caught your attention. Despite your maturity for your age, your curiosity got the better of you. You crept toward the sound, the noise growing louder with each step. Expecting to find an adult out to cause trouble, you peeked cautiously around a corner. To your surprise, there stood a boy, slightly older than you.

He had his back to you, but you could make out his raven-like hair, which ended just above his ears. He wore a yellow-striped shirt and grey shorts, his sneakers as worn out as those of the other kids in the city. You also noticed his pale complexion. But it wasn’t just his appearance that caught your attention—it was the palpable anger radiating from him.

The boy was frantically searching every crevice in the piles of trash, looking for something—or perhaps someone. When a spot didn’t reveal what he was searching for, he would kick and throw things, sending the scrap tumbling down. But it wasn’t just his actions that struck you. There was an energy about him, an intense, almost suffocating wave of anger and despair that filled the air, making it feel heavy and thick with emotion.

You stood frozen, unsure of what to do. You had never encountered such a crushing presence before. The weight of his emotions was almost too much to bear. It took him a while before he realized someone else was there.

He turned toward you, taking a moment to process your presence. Even at his young age, it seemed like he was studying you, trying to figure out who you were. His expression was unreadable, but your silence seemed to provoke him. Without a hint of fear or caution, he started walking toward you. You weren’t surprised—after all, what could a bone-thin girl like you possibly do to a boy older than you?

As he drew closer, you noticed something you would never forget—his eyes. Steely grey, cold as steel, eyes that no child should have. They held a depth of pain, rage, and fear. It was as though his gaze could pierce through you, reading your every thought. The emptiness in them was unsettling, yet beneath that emptiness was an ocean of raw, unspoken emotion.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze remained locked on yours, unflinching. Then, in a voice that matched the indifference in his expression, he asked, “Why are you out here?”

You hesitated for a moment, processing his question. Finally, you answered in your quiet, almost inaudible voice, “I couldn’t sleep... it’s freezing.”

He listened, his eyes still fixed on yours, and after a brief pause, he nodded slightly. His tone remained flat, as if unaffected by the cold, the silence, or even the raw emotions swirling between you. “I suppose it is quite cold tonight,” he said.

You ask him the same question in return. “Why are you out here?”

Without hesitation, he responds, “I’m looking for someone.”

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. Why would he be out here, so late, searching for someone? And what’s more, he’s dressed lightly, yet he doesn’t seem bothered by the cold. Curiosity laces your voice as you ask, “Wouldn’t it be smarter to search in the morning, when there’s daylight?”

A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, as if that option simply isn’t available. “Not possible. I’ll find her tonight.”

Normally, you would’ve dismissed him, turned away, and continued with your own business. But he’s another Metor City kid, and something in the back of your mind nags at you. He’s not dressed appropriately for the cold, and if he stays out here like this, he’ll get sick. You remember finding a man’s jacket a while back, one that was too big for you or your sister, and you think maybe it’s time to put it to good use.

“You’re going to catch a cold out here like that,” you say, a note of concern in your voice. “Come with me for two seconds, and I can give you a spare coat we have.”

Your tone is free of malice, just genuine care, and that catches his attention. He gives you a curious glance, eyebrows furrowing as if trying to decipher your intentions. Every kid in this city knows that nothing comes without a price, that nothing is truly free. So when he speaks, his words are cautious.

“I don’t need the jacket.”

His dismissal stings more than you expect, and you sigh, visibly irked. You take a few steps toward him, frustration settling into your voice. “Just take it. We don’t need it.”

At the word “we,” he raises an eyebrow. He’s perceptive, you realize. He takes a step closer, and you suddenly feel the suspicion radiating off him. “You have others with you?”

The question catches you off guard for a moment, but you recover quickly. “Yeah, my little sister, Sum.”

He pauses, his face unreadable, before asking, “You’re Sumi’s older sister? You must be Y/N, then.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. How does he know your name? You raise an eyebrow, and he chuckles, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Ah, my apologies. Sumi talks about you a lot. She’s always at shows with me and the others.”

That explains it. He must be one of the performer kids Sumi has befriended. You smile, relieved to understand the connection. “Oh! You’re one of Sumi’s friends. She never stops talking about all the shows you all put on. I hear about it all the time.”

“I’m glad she enjoys them so much,” he says with a chuckle. “My name’s Chrollo, by the way. It’s nice to officially meet you, Y/N.”

You extend a hand to him, offering a handshake. “Nice to meet you too, Chrollo.”

As you both shake hands, the conversation continues, and you press him once more to take the spare jacket. He doesn’t seem to trust easily, but the fact that you’re Sumi’s sister seems to put him at ease enough to accept the offer. You can’t let one of your sister’s friends freeze, after all. In your world, you cherish the small acts of kindness, especially when life is so unforgiving.

When you lead Chrollo into your home, you notice his gaze lingering on Sumi, who’s still fast asleep despite the chilly draft in the room.

“She sleeps like a rock,” you say with a smile, reassuring him. “Don’t worry, we won’t wake her up.”

Chrollo raises an eyebrow, then shifts his attention back to you. “Really? She always seems so happy, so it’s not surprising.”

“She’s always been that way,” you reply, a fondness in your tone. “She’s able to find the bright side of things. I’ve always admired her for that.”

“That’s an admirable trait, but a bit naïve,” he remarks, his eyes scanning the room. “And you, Y/N? Which side do you find yourself on?” His intense gaze meets yours, as if he already knows the answer, as if he’s searching for something more.

You hesitate before answering, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. “While I’d like to see things in the best light, it’s not always something I can afford to do. Life is tough, especially in the city. I’m sure you know that. I guess, if anything, I’m just realistic.”

Your words hang in the air, and you meet his gaze. Life hasn’t been kind, not forgiving, and you’ve learned to take things as they are—even if that means accepting a certain darkness. It’s how you survive. It’s how you cope.

Chrollo watches you as you pull the coat from the cooler you’ve repurposed as a storage bin. You turn to hand it to him, but before you can react, he’s right there, standing so close that you nearly jump in surprise.

“Oh, my—” you start, startled. “You surprised me, Chrollo.”

He chuckles lightly. “My apologies. It wasn’t intentional.” He accepts the jacket with a graceful nod. “Thank you for this.”

You watch him pull the coat on. It’s a bit oversized now, but in a few years, it will fit him perfectly. The jacket is a unique shade of royal purple, with white fur lining the neck and sleeve ends—definitely a one-of-a-kind piece.

“Well, Y/N, I have a search to continue,” he says, turning to leave. But before he pulls the sheet up to shield himself from the cold, he pauses and looks back at you.

“I’m also a realist,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “But there’s something so lovely about dreaming, isn’t there? I look at this life from both spectrums. Sometimes, I even think those dreams we chase so desperately can become our reality—if we push hard enough. Just something to think about.”

With those final words, he leaves before you can respond, disappearing into the night.

You stand there, staring at the door as his words linger in your mind. At first, you feel a sharp irritation. He didn’t ask for your opinion, so why did he offer unsolicited advice? And as for his belief that dreams could be turned into reality with enough force—that seemed utterly delusional, especially for kids like you, or anyone from Metor City. Hell, you’d be lucky just to make it to eighteen.

But something about what he said sticks with you, curling into your thoughts like a stubborn seed. You don’t dwell on it for long. You curl up next to Sumi, trying to shake the thoughts away, and drift into sleep. But as you do, you can’t help but wonder… what if, just for once, he was right?

 The next morning, you wake up to the sound of Sumi’s sobs, her distress pulling you from sleep. Instantly, you pull her into a tight hug.

“Shh, Sumi, it’s okay. Tell me what’s wrong. Are you hurt? What happened?” Your voice is steady and calm, a skill you’ve mastered over the years, both as her big sister and in moments of chaos. You’ve always had a knack for calming people in hysteria, and Sumi, in her younger days, gave you plenty of practice.

After a few minutes of reassurance and gentle prodding, she starts to calm down. She looks up at you, her eyes wide and teary, her lip trembling.

“Big sis, it’s… it’s all gone. Our food… our money… it’s all gone,” she says, before breaking into fresh sobs.

At those words, your heart drops. What does she mean? Gone? Your stomach twists with dread.

You pull away from Sumi for a moment, moving quickly to the cooler. There’s no way it could be empty. But when you lift the lid, your breath catches. The cooler is completely bare. All the food and supplies you had gathered for months—some even for years—are gone.

Frantically, you move the cooler aside, only to reveal an empty hole beneath it. The kettle where you kept all your jenny, your coins, your savings—also gone. There’s nothing left.

Panic rises in your chest. How could this happen? Who could have taken everything? Why didn’t you hear anything during the night? Your mind races with a hundred questions, each more frantic than the last. Beneath it all, though, a seething anger begins to bubble. How could anyone do this to kids who had nothing?

But then, Sumi’s sobs break through your clouded thoughts, pulling you back to reality. This is where you need to be the bigger sister. You need to calm her down, to give her the reassurance she needs, even if it means making false promises in the moment.

You pull her into another tight hug, patting her head in an attempt to soothe her. “Shh, Sumi. It’s going to be okay. I’ll figure it out. We’re going to be just fine, I promise.”

Your words, however, don’t seem to help. Sumi’s crying only intensifies, her distress deepening.

“No, Y/N, it’s not! It’s almost winter! I may be younger, but I’m not dumb. I knew it took you almost all year to gather what we had, and that was mostly lucky finds. This is my fault!” she says through ragged sobs, her nose sniffling.

“It’s no one’s fault, Sumi,” you reply, your own voice breaking slightly. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes, but you fight them back, continuing to hold it together. “We’re going to be okay. I’ll figure it out. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

But Sumi, seeing the tears in your eyes, crumbles further. “Big sis, you don’t understand. This is my fault! It was my friends at the play. They took our stuff. I shouldn’t have told Big Sis Sarasa where we live. She must’ve told the others. But I don’t know how—she’s been missing for a few days now!”

Your heart sinks, piecing together exactly what’s happened. It was Chrollo. He and his friends took everything. You allowed yourself to be blinded by the fact that he was another kid, someone you thought you could help. But instead, he took advantage of your kindness.

It takes everything in you to hide your shock. You can’t let Sumi see your own pain and disappointment. Instead, you swallow your anger and fear, and lie to her, thinking that protecting her from the truth is what’s best.

“Sumi,” you say, forcing a smile, trying to sound reassuring, “I bet your friends are just borrowing some food from us. Nothing to worry about. They’ll bring it back soon, okay?”

You can see the doubt in her eyes, but there’s a glimmer of hope there too. That spark—the same one she’s always had—begins to flicker. “Prove it, big sis. How do you know?”

You take a deep breath, hoping the lie doesn’t show in your eyes. “I just know, Sumi. I’ll make sure everything’s okay. I promise.”

Even though she doesn’t fully believe you, the fragile hope in her eyes is enough to make you cling to your own false reassurance. For her sake, you need to keep it together, even if it’s falling apart inside.

After Sumi had calmed down enough to be let go, you stood up, needing some space to think and to get some fresh air. You reached for the jacket you had thrown haphazardly over yourself the night before to stay warm, and as you put it on, a small white note fell from the pocket. Sumi, too absorbed in her tears, hadn’t noticed it before.

You hesitated for a moment, but your curiosity got the best of you. You unfolded the note, already knowing who it was from. It could only be one person—Chrollo.

The note read:

Y/N,I am sure you are angry, and rightfully so. It was nothing personal, of course—just my family needed it more than yours. Take this as a lesson and grow stronger from it. Never trust a stranger, no matter what they look like.Best of luck, and do take care of Sumi. Thanks again for your generosity.

As you read the words over again, the initial shock wore off, and a seething anger filled you. That bastard had taken everything—everything—because he could. And now he had the audacity to call it a lesson.

Your blood boiled. You would find him. You would make him pay.

In the midst of your fury, you didn’t notice Sumi, still sitting on the floor, glance over your shoulder and read the note with wide, curious eyes.

“Big sis? What does it say?” she asked, her head tilted, voice uncertain.

You froze for a moment, her question catching you off guard. Then, your mind raced. You knew Sumi couldn’t read—something that, under normal circumstances, would be a problem. But today, it was a relief. More than anything, you wanted to preserve that spark of joy in her eyes, to keep her from losing that innocence and hope.

With a forced smile, you turned to face her and lied through your teeth.

“Oh, it’s just a letter from your friends. They’re gathering more food and are going to bring it to share with us.”

At your words, Sumi’s face brightened. The sadness left her eyes, and joy returned to her expression as she beamed up at you. “Really, big sis? That’s great!”

You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile, though inside, your mind was still spinning with your plan for revenge. Sumi spent the rest of the day telling you about the shows and how amazing they were. You listened, but your thoughts were elsewhere, planning the next steps, knowing full well that your reality wasn’t one that relied on hopes and miracles. You would have to be ruthless to survive in this world—and you would.

Meteor City – Residential Area, 1995

Years later, you found yourself standing once again among the scraps of Meteor City, holding a small yellow daffodil. You gazed down at the modest grave, an unreadable expression on your face. Deep inside, though, the wound was still open and raw. The stone atop the grave was crudely carved with the name Sumi. Her grave was one of the few places in this wasteland where life seemed to thrive—a small patch of grass and flowers growing amidst the decay.

You offered a faint, sad smile, thinking that even in death, Sumi brought hope and life wherever she was.

Your mind wandered back to that brutal winter in 1984 when you lost your little sister. After the Phantom Troupe stole everything—your food, your money—you were left with nothing. For months, you scavenged, but it was never enough. The freezing nights and lack of food took a toll, and Sumi grew terribly ill. You searched high and low for medicine, anything that could save her, but the world wouldn’t help two poor kids from Meteor City. Every time you tried, you were chased away or kicked out.

As the weeks dragged on, one night Sumi’s fever spiked too high. You held her until she fell asleep, but then you heard it—those final, shallow breaths. That’s when you knew. Your sister was gone.

Now, standing over her grave, you reached into the satchel you carried and pulled out three items: a ticket to a masquerade ball, a key, and new identification papers. These were the tools you’d carefully acquired through a contact to forge a new identity—a whole new life in Yorknew City. They were your tickets to escape Meteor City, to avenge Sumi, and to strike at the heart of the Phantom Troupe. You couldn’t let them know who you truly were.

You had devoted your life to this, to rebuilding yourself and taking them down—especially Chrollo. He was the one responsible for her death. It was all for greed. But that was going to end now.

Looking once more at Sumi’s grave, you made a vow, your voice firm and steady.

“Sumi, I swear I’ll come back once the debt’s been repaid. After all, we’ve got a score to settle.”

With that, you turned away and walked towards the tinted car that waited to take you to the next step in your journey. The road ahead was long, but it was one you would walk with purpose. Chrollo Lucilfer—the leader of the Phantom Troupe—had no idea what was coming for him. You would make him pay, and you would not stop until you did.

[respectthepetty]

Each week I write that I won’t focus on whatever is happening with Yellow Yal Arm and Red Rascal Arc’s colors, so in the thirteenth episode, I’m telling myself the same thing since, once again, I got bigger fish to fry!

Like these two and their kinks!

And these two and their toxic relationship with its back and forth breaking up and fighting, which shocks me since Black Brooder Klao is lightening up because of Warit.

But most importantly, Green Guy Gun is in love with Black Brooder Yotha since he keeps wearing Yotha’s black.

Yet there is a divide between them as beautifully emphasized by the background of their room.

Luckily, Green Guy Gun has color-coded friends to support him: his bestie Kong who is a Blue Boy, Franc, the Pink Person, and Book being whatever color that is.

And I can't forget about Yotha’s Blue Boy brother, Faifa!

Who he’ll really need since the beautifully colored scene is about to crush us all.

Including our usually chill and jovial Green Guy.

Look at how he turns red sitting next to the boy who has kissed him several times AND HIS EX!

And look at Arc be red, as he should be because he is a Red Rascal. I don’t know what is happening with Arm, but back to the drama!

And boy oh boy is it some drama as Warit emerges from the red exit.

These two are back on their color-coded bullshit.

And these two have to witness it BEFORE ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE!

Green Guys are too chill because Gun asked Yotha not to go out, watched Yotha kiss his ex, sat at the dinner with them, watched everyone get punched because Yotha is ghosting girls, then cleans Yotha up, and doesn’t even pop off like a bottle of Champagne at a bridal shower. Like . . . my dude! Get upset!

Even him moving away from Yotha was so soft that it hurt me because he still wasn’t trying to hurt Yotha. He never wants to hurt Yotha!!!!

So thank goodness for Yotha’s brothers stepping in when they did because I think Gun would have cried on the spot if he thought he was hurting Yotha more.

Faifa is the best Blue Boy for getting Gun to admit that Gun doesn’t even feel like he can be upset since he is in a situationship with Yotha and doesn’t feel like he has any right to get mad. Look at how that Blue Boy looks at him! He is going to be mad for him!

And now a chill Green Guy Gun is caught in the middle of a Black Brooder and a Blue Boy, and although I don’t like that both of them told Gun to be quiet, I do appreciate that Faifa is going IN on Yotha because Gun would never. Gun doesn’t believe he should be upset, so Faifa is making sure that Yotha knows someone is upset, and it’s him!

Side quest: WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH THEIR COLORS?!

Oh, thank goodness, Arc is packing red clothing. All is well. There is hope for these two!

And there is hope for these two too.

Yotha is lucky that his brother is a Blue Boy and not a Red Rascal because he would have murdered him the second he walked back into that room.

But the color-coded crew is coming through and making sure their Green Guy is protected at all times.

AND YOTHA IS FINALLY WEARING GREEN!!!!!

I know Blue Boy Sand and Green Guy Po, I’m shocked too! Yotha is in love with Gun and wearing his color! HE FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT!

And now he is sitting on a green bench trying to plan how to get Gun back while realizing he just doesn’t want his roommate back, but his future boyfriend back! OH HEAVENS YES!

Arm wearing blue is messing up my happy mood, but it’s okay because Yotha isn’t in full black! He is lightening up! He is showing his feelings! HE IS IN LOVE!

Arc in red is all I need to remember that Arc and Arm were consistently color-coded during their portion of this show, and that the wardrobe department was probably fighting for its life during this show.

And now we end here, with Yotha, the lightest he has been so far, matching colors with Gun, and I’m thrilled.

And not just because I get to see Tawan again next episode!

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

https://www.tumblr.com/woodlaflababab/773344830294294528/omg-yes-far-more-positive-toward-kataang-than-op?source=share

What do you think? Maybe Sokka and Toph could have appeared, because yes, they are obviously like a family to Aang. However, it’s also important to recognize how much Katara means to him. She was the first person to believe in him, to support him, at a time when the entire world didn’t even know he existed.

I feel a bit torn: on the one hand, including Sokka and Toph would have highlighted the importance of the familial bonds Aang has built. But on the other hand, it makes sense for Katara to have that special place in this scene, given their closeness and how their relationship has evolved since the beginning of the story.

"Sokka and Toph are his family too" is such a bad argument to use as criticism of Katara being the one Aang sees in that vision because, by that logic, it shouldn't have been only Gyatso in his nightmare during The Storm, nor should his body have been the only one he saw when going back to the temple, since he was not the only one Aang loved/wish he had saved.

Gyatso is the only one he saw during that nightmare/the only body he saw because he was the one Aang loved the most and was closest to. Of all the bonds he had pre-iceberg, that was by far the strongest, and Gyatso was the one person trying to think of what was best for him as well instead of just what was best for the world. Of course he'd be singled out as THE loss that hurt Aang the most.

The same applies to Katara. She's literally the first thing Aang sees in a hundred years. She's the first friend he made post-iceberg, and is by far the one he's closest to. She was the first person who told him "The air-nomads might be gone, but you still have a family." She's the one that snaps him out of the Avatar State, sometimes with just a look, no words needed, because she understands him in a way no one else does. She gives him hope and keeps him grounded. Hurting her makes him hurt too and he's terrified of losing her (much like she's terrified of losing him).

She'll also be the person that will literally bring him back from the dead, and be the person he'll start a new family with.

Sokka and Toph are Aang's friends and family (and sifu in Toph's case). Katara is Aang's BEST friend, the family he's closest to, his waterbending master, his future wife (and the mother of his children), his reason to not give up the fight, the very reason he's not either dead or still frozen inside that iceberg.

Her meaning more to him is not the same as the others meaning nothing. Poiting out that, yes, the love of your life will hold a different piece of your heart than the people you love but are not in love with is not the same as saying "Therefore they're the ONLY thing that matters."

Not to mention: that scene is also a pattern in the writing about how Aang's role as the Avatar constantly denies him things he desperately wants. He longs to be a normal child, free of any responsibilities, but he's forced to be the world's savior (and has to a face a bigger challenge, having much less time to prepare). He wants to remain true to his pacifist world-view, but the war might force him to take a life and he has no choice but to be willing to make that sacrifice. He can't even stay in the same place too long without it making everyone around him a target.

And he wants to be the guy that is always there to support Katara, protect her if necessary, and hopefully be the one she's in love with.

But he ends up having to do things like learn from Pakku even though he REALLY wants to tell that old man to fuck off after he disrespects Katara, or having to temporarely let go of her so he can go into the Avatar State and save Ba Sing Se, and Katara herself eventually tells him that she doesn't know if they should be together because there's too much going on.

That scene isn't just about Aang learning to let go when necessary, it's about him trying to accept that he can't ever have the future he wants with Katara and she'll be just another friend/member of his family - only to basically get punished by the narrative by being immediately killed for it, then be brought back to life by Katara, who is then heartbroken when he tries to leave to go and fight Ozai the next episode.

It's the narrative straight up telling us (and Aang) that he can and SHOULD fight back against this expectation that he should sacrifice everything he holds dear to his heart because "his role as the Avatar demands it." And this future with Katara, where he's not just her closest friend, but also her husband and father of her kids, is what he wants the most, so it is THE unfair sacrifice the show is highlighting at that moment.

Katara means more to Aang, both because of their romance and regardless of it. It HAD to be just her on that moment, much like she had to say "I believe AANG can save the world" at the start of every episode, even though there's people helping him do it, including herself, because, in her eyes, he already did by validating her hopes. Plain and simple.

[peachsayshi]

About brutally soft reader x SUKUNA

I love how you write their dynamic with eachother and their daughter, especially the feelings she has towards SUKUNA and the small jealousy she feels just thinking about him and other women.

But I’ve got some thoughts

I understand her seeing the good in him and him being a great father but a great father isn’t always a great partner. He might have cleaned his mess up as far as she knows, we the readers of course know more.

You gave us some look into their past relationship and how toxic they were to eachother.

While people should stay in the present and look towards the future, her past shaped her. Does she trust him fully? Are there other feelings like resentment and anger she sometimes feels towards him, especially as she realizes how her daughter is growing up without two parents in the same house and how it will impact her?

While she loves her daughter, won’t she still have some anger towards him for having to take care of her all the time and work, while he has so much freedom?

Does she feel guilty for still liking him?

Does she have recurring nightmares or flashbacks as soon as she sees or talks about cheating? Does she see his cheating partner sometimes in the city and does she get that gut wrenching feeling.

There are a lot of questions I have regarding her character.

While you show the positive side of their co parenting I would love to see the negative aspects. How it impacted her her future (unexpected pregnancy), other relationships she had(parents, friends…), relationships with other men after sukuna?

How she sees her daughter, does her daughter miss him a lot or does she see a lot of sukuna in her daughter? Does reader still have some kind abandonment issues or trust issues with other people in her life because of the relationship?

Is it maybe the other relationship that seems to be on and off, that makes her yearn for sukuna who is not only her baby daddy but seems to be stable in life?

I hope it does not come off as aggressive or rude but I am really interested to see her have some female rage and anger she will express toward sukuna.



nonnie!! please don't ever apologize!! as a writer I live for these kind of questions!! I am just an awe that you that this fic made you this interested like I am truly beyond flattered. okay, okay let's break it down: "a great father isn't always a great partner" is the basis of what this story is about. regarding your question on trust, I will say that the reader does not trust him - he had to repair that trust himself. and it took him years to do it. the fact that he cheated on her isn't a small thing (to either the reader or sukuna). he lives with that mistake and the reader lives with that hurt. in one of my previous posts about them, I mention how all of this changed when sukuna found out you were pregnant. the thing is, he grew up with shitty parents. he wasn't about to turn into one himself. I don't think she resents him as much. because she truly didn't even think that he would step up to the plate and be an actual father to his child. she only revealed her pregnancy out of moral obligation, but she was clear that she doesn't expect him to be involved. the fact that sukuna is putting in the effort is more of a surprise to the reader herself.

now regarding the freedom thing, I definitely think that's more of a choice on the reader's part. sukuna wants more team, but our reader keeps the boundaries for a reason. let's not forget that she knew and loved sukuna at his worst. saw how irresponsible he could be. saw how selfish some of his actions were. I think a small part of her believes that if she isn't too cautious, he might slip up. that's the reader taking control of a situation that she cannot predict. I don't think she feels guilty for liking sukuna, I think she's scared that those feelings are still there. how could she still want someone who hurt her in that way? how could she think it would be safe to go back to him? that's what I was really trying to portray in the updated part of their little story. without giving away too much of the story, she definitely does bring it up in conversation with sukuna and it's an extremely sore point for both of them. it's the only time she sees how small he looks in her eyes. he carries so much shame with that mistake, with that woman...

oh there definitely will be some insight on the negative aspects - but it will be framed in a way to show sukuna's growth. the point is to highlight his redemption journey, rather than him being a shitty guy. however, that past still exists in both his and the reader's memory. and regarding abandonment and trust issues: they both definitely deal with it in their own way. in this particular case, it's sukuna who gave did it to her. his parents did it him.

I briefly talk about sukuna's childhood, and how compared to his brother yuji he had to witness his parents because a healthy, loving couple towards his younger brother. sukuna never got any of that. and it kills him that the same abandonment and trust issues they gave him, he just off loaded onto you with his own shitty mistakes.

sukuna's daughter is so much like him in so many ways. you can definitely see that but you believe she got the best parts of sukuna rather than the worst. and he only wants to show her the good, not the bad.

I hop this answers some of your questions! I really can't wait to explore more parts of these two - and see how their dynamic unfolds. I think as of now, sukuna simply resigns in his role as being your baby daddy and nothing else. he really wants to show you that you can rely on him, but it just isn't that easy for the reader to give in to him like she used to.

[a-little-bit-of-ships-in-my-life]

Little Old Dollhouse.

"I'm sorry." he said, once after coming home from work. The man's voice was low, soft. The news channel was playing on the old television, and the hands of the sun-shaped clock showed that it was past 3 p.m. now. Abby looked up from the math homework to see her brother. For some reason, his hair looked soaked.

"It's okay." she replied. She didn't know why he was apologizing, but it didn't matter, it was all right.

.

The Schmidt family had change over the years. And maybe Abby did so too.

[voidcat-senket]

You know that one unfinished fic that you love that tragically doesn't seem to be updating anymore? There's a secret to increasing your chances of getting it to update! Use this One Simple Trick! Leave a review saying you love it.

[iloveacronix]

Sighhh. Dear mutuals. Please stop sending me smut fanfictions, ESPECIALLY the ILLUSTRATED ONES, when you know damn well I'm less than 18, know my SPECIFIC age, and KNOW I do not feel comfortable with smut.

I am VERY uncomfortable when you do this and you, as someone older than me, should know better. I do NOT care if you like the ship, I do NOT care if you think its good, I DONT WANT TO FUCKING READ IT, and I DONT WANT YOU SENDING ME LINKS TO THAT SHIT. I AM NOT INTO IT, BUT SOMETIMES IM CURIOUS AND IT DISGUSTS ME. LIKE COULD YOU NOT?? I do not mind if you mention the word it's not specific at ALL, but if you are going to fully talk about it DETAILED OUT shut up. I don't want to hear it. Don't want to read it. And I do not want to see it. Also don't have the crappy mindset where you think that suddenly because we're mutuals it means we're bestie best friends and you feel privileged to send me inappropriate shit, because that's not how it works. None of you, AND I MEAN NONE OF YOU, are "PriViLEgEd" to send me smut FICS or links, and it will never happen because im not looking forward to reading it. Don't use that excuse again. You know who you are.

So please. Stop. This is the third time. I don't care if you're a friend, if you send me smut FICS or links WITHOUT WARNING, I'm blocking you. I blocked two people already for it, I can do it many more times. Your bullshit only makes me feel more fucking tired and reluctant to make more online friends. So stop. When I say I'm a kid(not that young but still) on my bio, I'm serious. It doesn't matter if it's "just a written story and it's not a big deal," it is for me because it just shows me how much of a freak you are to have the audacity to show it to a minor THAT HAS ALREADY "SAID I DO NOT WANT TO READ SMUT."

Thank you. Good day.

[touchlikethesun]

okay so. don’t crucify me. but su she and jin guangyao do actually make some pretty compelling points.

[emometalhead]

.

[windydrawallday]

Lockdown & Prowl HCs: Bounty Hunting Together!

Mostly musing about these rascals taking missions outside Earth and confronting factionless aliens in space.

Because of how there are planets so different from Cybertron and Earth, the first time Lockdown would pick a few missions in places with familiar characteristics for the cyber-ninja to navigate without much effort.

Or even pick a combo of upgrades that would aid better the kid during the journey (that means making Prowl try them and walk around to test and adjust the items... like a fashion model).

If the upgrades are for combat, they would have short sparring sessions. "Short" I said but for sure they would get carried away, trying to show off at each other as usual.

Lockdown learned the hard way that the kid doesn't take well the idea of missions focused on terminating the target. After their first and last one, Prowl didn't talk to him for many Earth weeks.

Prowl disapproves of but Lockdown doesn't care much about being mean and beating targets. Usually, the mismatched mech is mindful of keeping the prey intact (sometimes is a request in the task) but there's no forgiving if they scratch an inch of paint from his partner!

(What? Attachment? Do you know how pricey is gold paint in the middle of space?)

(... probably Swindle supplied some to them I MEAN--)

For that same reason Lockdown is careful to pick missions with targets that look like Earth's fauna: during one of those, Prowl made him carry the thing with an absurd amount of care because the kid couldn't tolerate seeing the alien suffer.

... But if Prowl sees the target giving an unnecessary display of violence to the bounty hunter, there is no peace of mind holding him back and he will return each hit to the target. The devilish proud smile Lockdown carries around after such events can last for days, annoying the cyber-ninja a little.

If the mission doesn't take a lot of time and they have spare moments to relax, Lockdown lets Prowl explore the surroundings.

On moments like that, Prowl usually organizes "picnics" out there to celebrate the accomplishment. Most of the time, the space poncho ends as a picnic blanket.

... or a blanket in general if Prowl ends exhausted during the trip. Sleepy cocoon easy to carry for Lockdown.

Knowing alien flora doesn't last far from its original planet, Prowl started to collect and press flowers after Sari told him about that old-fashioned human pastime.

When he goes solo in missions and if he remembers, Lockdown gathers up flowers and leaves them in a little corner for Prowl to judge if they fit on the collection.

And even if he repeats, Prowl saves the trinkets anyway just for the gesture.

[good-beanswrites]

We were doing a roleplay thread of OoA. Mikoto (well, John) follows Kotoko to Mahiru's cell, and they tear the place apart.

Good thing Mappi wasn't around, but that's got to be a terrible thing to return to...

(Prompt?)

Mmm that's such an interesting thought -- the attack taking place in the room of the one person unaffected. The survivors guilt is Insane smh -_- I tried to lean into Mappi's voice and mindset for this, I'm not sure how it'll read but I'm super satisfied with the character study it gave me!

Every good housewife knows that a tidy home is a happy home. She knows how to take care of a tiny amount of clutter, since something as small as that can ruin the atmosphere. She knows how to approach larger disorganization before it causes distraction and agitation. The thing they don’t teach housewives, however, is how to handle a living space that has been wholly spattered with blood. At least, they hadn’t in any of the online articles that Mahiru had read. 

The woman hovered in the entryway to her cell, her hands brought up by her chest in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. The others had informed her that the day’s fight ended up in her cell, but she’d only been grateful she was away when it happened. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that the room may not be suitable to sleep in.

The door clicked behind her, locking her in for the night.

Furniture and possessions lay scattered across the floor. Her pillow and sheets had been flung about. She wouldn’t mind returning them to the bed if they were just kicked around the ground, but even in the dim light (her favorite lamp now lay in glass shards) she could see that they each held dark splotches of blood. The color was streaked across the floor, clinging to the back wall as well. 

Maybe nobody had thought to warn her about the state of the cell since there weren’t any huge puddles of the stuff, or because the lamp was really the only thing that had been broken. Mahiru told herself that they were probably too absorbed in the victims’ physical conditions to give it a second thought. It didn’t help the hurt rising in her chest – they could have said something. It would have taken two seconds to think about her and mention it. She could have at least brought a bucket and a sponge inside before curfew…

She bit down hard on her quivering bottom lip, scolding herself for feeling such self pity.

How dare she be anything but joyful that she made it out of today alive. So what, she had a little blood in her cell? It was better than that being her blood spilled somewhere. How dare she not be spending every moment in reverent gratefulness that the others made it out of today alive. Maybe it’d be rough to stay in the cell until morning, but at least she was guaranteed to make it through the night.

Fuuta and Amane’s faces flashed in her mind. She drew in a shaky breath. There had been nothing in her online articles about a situation like that.

But moping around never helped any household. The door was locked, so there was no chance of anyone coming back to cause any more mess. Though she couldn’t do anything directly for Fuuta or Amane, she could start drawing up a list of gifts and favors and favorite meals she could cook. It would be silly for her to cry now, with things going so well.

She should be happy. She should be happy. She should be happy.

And so she was. Mahiru used a scarf as a makeshift broom to sweep up the glass – every good housewife knows that safety comes first! She hummed a favorite tune as she collected the other objects around the room. The song wavered only once, though it returned with full force. She sang the cheery chorus with passion as she found one of her earrings had been crushed underfoot. It would make a fun DIY fix in the next few weeks – she always did love crafts! 

Once everything was straightened out, she moved to her closet. It was looking more bare after her verdict, but there were still plenty of things to choose from for what she had in mind. She picked out her thickest of clothes and laid them on the floor in a colorful, comfy arrangement – it would be the cutest little campout! In fact, if she pinned up her throw blanket in just the right way, it reminded her of younger years making pillow forts and having sleepovers. A little change in scenery can go a long way. She’d read that on a travel blog once, though she’d never truly believed it until now. 

She adjusted the blanket with a smile. As she curled up on a particularly soft sweater, she commended herself on the ingenuity. She’d gotten the room under control in less than an hour. If she could take on a project like this, just think of how happy a home she could run someday. 

Indeed, the space was downright adorable inside. One would never even know things had gotten so bad, she thought. One would never even know there was blood on the walls, just outside.

[xviruserrorx]

The 3x04 episode is Arthur just being down bad for every man he encounters in that episode actually

I mean he just:

And then he:

[scatterpatter]

every time i read a different issue of Archie Megaman that i havent read yet its just