#Cuffed Universe

[andy-clutterbuck]

👓 Penguin Bloom (2021) || The Murmuring (2022) 👓

[rubensmuse]

have not talked abt my da:o warden on main too much yet bc i have this irrational puritan shame abt doing oc talk in the same place where i shitpost ever since that time i got really into swtor. however @commandermahariel is right that Hallistair is a beautiful ship name & an even more beautiful divorce name

[vaamm]

u know im kinda glad chapell roan got her big break now that im 20 and not when i was 14~15 otherwise i wouldve been very annoying and unormal abt her

[everparanoid]

Soft Universe Sylus x F! Reader

word count: 5.4k

tags: fluff, angst

cw: reader is MC from love and deepspace, minor hades and persephone vibes, Canon typical violence, Canon Compliant, No use of Y/N, minor spoilers for Sylus's secret time Midnight Warmth and Lost Oasis, inspired by the Sylus's event story in Adventure Above Clouds

AO3 link: Soft universe

"With a scream, you bent back as a beam of brilliant light shot out of your chest, illuminating the sky with crimson stars. Each one bright. Each one filled with memories you knew were yours but couldn’t recall like lifetimes come and gone. Or universes born and destroyed."

Ever since you resontated with Sylus you have been having weird dreams. Or a story in which you are bound to Sylus again and he becomes clingyier than usual.

You dreamt of red mist encasing you in its warm embrace, licking at your heels, and trailing its ghostly lips along your body. Leaving in its wake skin the shade of sunset and a heart so full it could burst. You dreamt of it traversing the surface of your soul, gathering the embers of your evol and moulding them with its own before huddling into the open void in your chest.

A groan left you as the mist disappeared under your skin. Despite the initial discomfort, you didn’t hate the oddly familiar sensation of being whole.

You took an unsteady step forward. Beneath your feet, you could no longer feel the ground. Above you, the starless sky loomed. You blinked refocusing your eyes, believing they were the issue, not the lack of starlight. But nothing changed.

You heard the caw of a crow. In the darkness, you saw its ruby eyes watching you, piercing through your skin, and staring straight into your soul. Your heart thumped, beating faster, harder, growing hotter with every passing second. You keeled over, clutching your chest.

Your power, you heard the mist say. Yours.

You felt the bird's keen eyes as light burst through the cracks between your taut fingers. With a scream, you bent back as a beam of brilliant light shot out of your chest, illuminating the sky with crimson stars. Each one bright. Each one filled with memories you knew were yours but couldn’t recall like lifetimes come and gone. Or universes born and destroyed.

 The dream dissipated and your eyes fluttered open to see fire dancing in turbulent strokes in the fireplace, charring the wood that fuelled it. In the distance you heard the quiet murmuring of a film on the flat screen. You slapped your lips tiredly, rubbing your cheek against the warm, unusually hard cushion you clung to.

“This movie is boring. You should go back to sleep,” Sylus said, brushing your cheek gently. The tender touch was scolding on your skin.

 You nuzzled your head further into the hard cushion. A deep chuckle shook through it.

“What are you thinking about, kitten?” Sylus asked.

His heart raced against your ear, burning through its beats as though it were chasing death. It must have been night, you reckoned. His heart was only ever this fast in the dark.

“Sylus…” you whispered groggily.  Your focus locked on the familiar necklace resting on his chest—an empty aether core? A Protocore? A simple crystal? You yawned, blinking once, twice…three times. Wait Sylus!

You shot up, attempting to pull away. But finding your movement restricted by an inhumane force, you fell back on top of him.

 “Surprise. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” He lifted his arm and yours lifted too revealing the glowing crimson evol link cuffing you to the renowned Onychinus leader. “Were you thinking of getting rid of me again?”

The amused smirk on his lips told you he wasn’t angry, but rather entertained.

“No,” you responded.

“Being quick to respond only confirms your guilt, sweetie.”

You tugged your arm, pulling his too. 

 He grunted quietly. “Your defiance is getting old.”

“Maybe if you stopped putting me in awkward situations it wouldn’t,” you responded.

He sighed and squinted at you.

“What? Nothing to say for yourself? ” you teased.

“Silence is also an answer.” He lowered his head closer to yours. “And I like to think that actions speak louder than words.”

Sylus was a gorgeous man; breathtaking to say the least. Just being close to him made your heart betray you in ways you hated. You let out a gasp. “Sy—,”

His phone buzzing on the coffee table interrupted you. He grabbed his phone and put it on silent.

 “What time is it?” you asked. You tried to peer at the screen’s reflection in Sylus’s frameless glasses but failed.

 He turned his screen to you. “Nearly two am.”

“Why are you here? Don’t you have some gang to bully? Or some notorious deals to strike?” you asked. It had been a coincidence, your bumping into each other whilst you were taking a three day vacation from Linkon in one of the outskirt islands. A pure innocent coincidence—according to Sylus. You struggled to believe that, however, as it wasn’t the first time Sylus had conveniently appeared at the same place as you. Seemingly with nothing to do but be mysterious and strange and there.

He shook his head. “Have you forgotten?”

You had forgotten but only because of your dream. It wasn’t every day you had a nightmare so vivid that it tore you out of your sleep. It hadn’t always been every day. Only since you made the mistake of resonating with this unlikely ally.

“You got injured snowboarding with your colleagues. And I happened to be returning back to the resort when they saw me and pawned you off. Apparently they wanted to do another few rounds with the people they met.”

You frowned. You only vaguely remembered the incident. More so the tree that you had wiped out against. Everything else was a blur. You knew sylus had no reason to lie, so you chose to believe him. It wasn’t like Sylus and your colleagues didn’t know each other to some degree. Sharing a karaoke booth with Sylus was enough time for anyone to develop a trauma bond. It was like war…without the bloodshed. “Doesn't explain where they are now.”

“I used your phone to tell them I’d watch you for the night—ease their minds.”

“How valiant of you,” you ad-libbed.

“I did try to leave after making sure your condition wasn’t critical but you asked me to stay,” Sylus said. “Then you pulled me onto this couch with you and this happened.” He gestured to the link.

You looked away flustered. “Must have slipped my mind.”

“You’re so air-headed, kitten,” Sylus tutted.

The depth of his voice rattled you; made your skin feverish and a sudden flush spread through you. You noted your sudden reaction to his voice as an after effect of your accident. You straightened hoping fixing your posture would disperse the settling arousal. And in some pseudoscientific way, it did.

Mephisto squaking in the corner snapped your mind back to the crow in your dream. “Sylus, can I ask you a question?” you asked. You were being abstract but with this burning question fresh on your mind you didn't care.

“You just did.”

You rolled your eyes but asked anyway: “Do crows have dreams?”

“Is that seriously what you are asking me right now?” he responded.

“I’m being serious.” Your voice remained steady as your head lifted high.  “Does Mephisto dream?” you asked motioning with your eyes to the mechanical bird.

Sylus’s gaze followed.

Mephisto lifted his wings in response.

“Whether Mephisto does or doesn’t dream is beyond me. He is a mechanical bird after all. Dreaming isn’t something I programmed into him. If he were to dream, I suppose it would be recounts of recorded data or lines of code,” Sylus said.

Mephisto cawed again.

 Sylus looked back at you. “Does that answer your question?”

  You shook your head.

He sighed and cocked his head. He didn’t appear too surprised by your lack of satisfaction, more so by your inability to believe hard fact. “Then enlighten me, do you believe doves dream?”

Remembering the dove you had saved a few months back, you nodded.  “Yes.”

“So, why would crows be any different?”

“Okay, sorry for not thinking things all the way through, Mr philosophical,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “I was just answering your question, sweetie.”

You yawned.

 “You should get back to sleep,” Sylus whispered. “It’s still late for you. And I’d like to be free sometime soon.”

“I can’t,” you said.

His phone buzzed in his hand taking his attention. “Nightmare?”

“Nightmare,” you agreed.

He hummed listlessly as he scrolled through his phone, typing and swiping. “Am I allowed to ask what it was about?”

“It’s nothing really.”

Sighing, Sylus placed down his phone. “You still should rest... Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Oh no, please God no. I’d rather have Mephisto sing to me.” You physically cringed.

Mephisto squawked in protest.

Sylus ignored your dread. “Do you want me to tell you a story then?”

“No.”

He glanced at you. “I thought you quite enjoyed the last one?”

“I don’t know what Kieran and Luke told you a story is, but I think you have it misconstrued.” You wanted to cross your arms but remembered the link binding your arm to his.

“Oh?” He quipped. “It has a beginning, middle, and an end. Perhaps also a little filler to transition from plot point to plot point. That’s a story, sweetie.”

“And the demonstration?” you asked.

“Audience participation.”

 “I think you'll find that serves the opposite effect of telling someone a bedtime story.” You recalled the bites that had stained your skin pinks and purples the day after his ‘story.’  Which, much to his enjoyment, resulted in you having to extend your trip as there was no way you could go back to work in that state. Not unless you lied. And as good as you were, you knew no one would believe you had been attacked by a Wanderer.

Not Tara, who was obsessed with the idea of you and Sylus being more than friends ever since she met him. Nor Nero in Data Analysis because he was a bit of a freak when it came to anything concerning Wanderers. So you imagined a lie of that sort wouldn’t slip past him. And if it somehow did, you didn’t want to end up in a heated conversation about the potential mating rituals of Wanderers. Nero’s fascination was weird enough as it was without going anywhere near that topic.

“You fell asleep, didn’t you?” Sylus said.

You had… eventually. And unfortunately, when you had fallen asleep—exhausted from his playful bites, you’d slept the most soundly you had in years. Right in the arms of this criminal. You stomach churned at the memory. A hunter and a wanted mob boss…how unprofessional. “Because you were relentless.”

“Don’t act so innocent. You were actively enjoying our little roleplay. And as I recall you were the one who said I looked like a vampire.”

The tips of your ears burned. You stared up at the ceiling to avoid his gaze.

The empty ceiling stared back at you like a starless night; an endless void…a pit of nothing.

Your wrist tingled with the heat of the link binding you to Sylus. You felt a strange familiarity spreading up your arm. One that followed you out of your dreams. “Sylus…”

 “What is it?”

“Do you dream?” you whispered, staring into the darkness. You could hear his quiet contemplation from beside you.

“Not often,” he responded.

“Really?”

“You sound so surprised…” Sylus said.  “Dreams aren’t for those without hearts, sweetie.”

“You keep saying that,” you said.

“I keep saying—”

You could feel his stare. Slowly turning your head, you looked at him. “That you have no heart. I don’t believe it. Someone without a heart wouldn’t take care of me when I hit my head and listen to me when I ask them to stay.” You paused. “Okay...hypothetically, what do you dream about?”

He slipped his free arm under your shoulder and pulled you back toward his chest. “Why are you suddenly so curious about my dreams? Is it something to do with this nightmare?”

“No, I just—” you lied. The words fell out of your mouth like vomit.

He chuckled. “I don’t care for dreams because everything I could want I can get. And nightmares—well, you already know that there isn’t much in this universe scarier than me.”

“Must be nice to have the means to buy whatever you want.”

“You clearly don’t know me if you assume everything I want can be bought.”

“Can’t it?” You searched his gaze for some kind of answer, as if by searching those red pools you might see his desire. But instead, it stared right back at you; soft, unwavering, beckoning.

Come to me.

You looked away.

“No,” he said.

You dreamt of laying on the top of a hill dressed in a gown of white silk. You didn’t know how you arrived here, or why you were dressed in such finery. Flowers surrounded you, red-stained daisies and carnations, swaying in the gentle night breeze. You plucked one and held it up to your nose. It smelt of fresh pollen and mint. You hummed in approval, not questioning the oddity, and picked another, and another, till in your arms you held a bundle of red flowers.

You smiled warmly at your beautiful collection. A bundle of love and devotion, picked by you—for you. You decided then that you liked this place. This starless night haven of endless flowers. And thought, if this dream was the place you would be stuck forever then eternity didn’t sound too bad.

Just as the thought passed through your mind something spawned in the bundle. A pomegranate. You’d never seen one spawn from flowers. You didn’t know one could do so. It was so beautiful, however, that you didn’t think to question it.

At the sight, your stomach rumbled. You weren’t hungry until then. Or rather you hadn’t noticed you were hungry until the opportunity to eat arrived. It was like this place had read into your soul and presented you with your desire before you could even desire it. Was this paradise or a paradise lost?

Dropping the flowers, you lifted the pomegranate. With a twist, the ripe fruit split in half in your hand. You’d never seen a pomegranate so easy to split; usually, you would need a knife.

The juice stained your white dress in droplets of blood-like splotches. It dribbled down your hand leaving a sticky trail. You licked the mess off your skin before you picked up some of the fallen seeds—three to be exact—and ate them. They were sweet in your mouth.

Ravenous, you ate another, and then one more. And after that one more.

You only ate six. You knew because, at that moment, a red shackle appeared on your wrist and a hellish scream tore through the air. Your head shot up in wonder, like a prey alarmed by the snap of a twig. In the distance, a volcanic beam of light erupted into the sky. You recognized it by the familiar ache that resonated through you, but you didn’t know why. You shielded your eyes as you watched crimson stars fill the empty sky, covering the expanse in colourful noise, and leaving in its wake a hole in space and time.

Forgetting your flowers and pomegranates, you wiped your hands on your stained white silk dress. You reached up with a single hand toward the tunnel. You didn’t know why you did it. You didn’t understand what this feeling was that you were chasing. You only knew that you longed for it. You needed it like you needed air to breathe and eyes to see. Perhaps this was love?

Crimson shone between the gaps of your fingers, blinding you of anything but the tunnel. It gaped and shrivelled in intervals as if it were alive.

Come to me, said a voice from the tunnel.

Its coo guided you to your feet. But even on the tips of your toes, you were no closer to the heavens than you were before.

Come to me, it said again. It beckoned to you… calling your name. Its voice was clearer, familiar.

You knew that you knew it.

You reached further. Biting the inside of your cheek, your strain began to show on your face. If you reached anymore you were going to fall. But you were so desperate, you didn’t even care. You needed this—needed it.

The hole stretched and a mangled inhuman hand pushed through. Its long-scorched fingers reached out to yours.

Just when your hand was about to touch it, you pulled back. “No,” you said in a moment of hesitation. “I must go home.”

The mangled hand recoiled before shooting forward to grab you.

You evaded it, losing your footing.

Come, it said again. Come to me.

Terror claimed you. It burnt the sky around you from night-to-day and scorched the flowers beneath your bare feet.

Stay with me.

The earth shook.

Losing your footing, you rolled down the hill, tumbling in cartwheels through the bleeding flowers. Daises and carnations filled your mouth. Red paint dyed your dress. You sealed your eyes shut. You couldn’t tell if it was the earth shaking or just you.

You wished the dream away. You prayed for the familiar darkness. You prayed for ignorance—for the you you lost to knowledge. But most of all, you prayed for the cold.

You awoke in a king-sized bed covered in dark silk sheets. Sylus’ bed, you thought. He must have moved you when it had gotten closer to his time for bed. But Sylus was nowhere to be seen.

 You sat up and looked around. The night light beside the bed lit the room showcasing the extravagant dark furniture. The sound of water running through the foggy glass doors to the en-suite bathroom, and the off-key hummed rendition of some jazz he had on loop informed you of Sylus’ location.

“He’s showering,” you whispered to yourself.

Mephisto cawed from where he was perched.

When you stared at him, he lifted his wings and cawed again.

“I don’t speak crow,” you responded.

“And he doesn’t speak human,” Sylus said, closing the door to the bathroom. Steam pulsed off his wet body as he emerged in only a fluffy white towel.

You gulped, closing your legs under the covers. Not that it would do anything for the feelings that arose from the sight of him. Not even disgust could repel your natural desire for someone so physically alluring.

“I thought you were showering,” you said tightly.

Sylus scoffed. “And you were asleep. I guess we were both wrong, kitten.” 

You frowned.

Sylus approached the dresser and lifted the hairdryer. Slicking back his hair, he began to dry it with the dryer.

You shuffled to the edge of the bed and held out your hand for the hairdryer. “Let me do that.”

Catching your reflection in the mirror, he turned to you. “What? You want to do this for me?” he asked, switching off the hairdryer. His damp hair fell onto his forehead.

You flicked your hand impatiently. Your eyes actively avoided falling below his collarbones. “I’m trying to be nice… since you didn’t wake me when the link untangled and all. Thank you for that by the way. And sorry I took up your entire night.”

His brows furrowed. “You’re the only person I’d excuse taking up my time. Besides, that’s just common decency, sweetie.”

You blushed and gestured again for the hairdryer. You couldn’t fall for his pretty words. You weren’t that stupid. Halting your thoughts, you cleared your throat and corrected your posture. “Still—I feel like I owe you and this will make us even.” 

“Okay, deal.”

You half expected him to counter your statement and ask for more. You wouldn’t have faulted him if he had. You knew what you were suggesting wasn’t an even repayment for the time he lost, but for a man who had everything this was the only thing you could do on the fly.

His tall frame casted a shadow over you as he approached; all damp skin and wet hair. He handed you the wireless hairdryer. And then sitting on the ground at the foot of the bed, he sighed. “I didn’t know all I needed to do to get you to be nice to me was let you sleep.”

You rolled your eyes and shuffled back a little after feeling the heat of his wet body on the inside of your thighs. You tried to keep a small amount of distance not wanting to accidentally touch him. You leaned forward and cursed inaudibly at the difficult angle.

“I don’t know what hair you’re going to be drying from back there,” he cooed. Wrapping his hands around your ankles, he pulled you closer to him.

“Hey!” You yelped, sliding forward till you inner thighs pressed against his wet shoulders.

“That’s better,” he said, letting go.

 “You’re crude.”

“I was just making your job easier, kitten,” he purred.

You nudged his shoulder with your thigh and turned on the dryer. Your finger ran through his hair as you watched the water dry out and the soft greyish-white return.

Sylus closed his eyes and leaned his head back till you could see his face.

You paused. “You’re not making this easier for me,” you said, peering down at him.

He chuckled deeply. “I can’t help the fact that you have magic hands, I’ve never been so relaxed.”  He lifted his arms and rested them atop your knees like armrests. “Have you ever thought of changing careers?”

You snickered. “Are you sure you’re rich? Surely, you’ve had much better treatment than this.”

Sylus laughed with you. The sound called you broke in every way but with words. It reminded you of aged wine and expensive cuff-links, two things you had never associated with a voice until him.

You turned off the dryer and placed it on the bed.

“Why did you stop?” Sylus opened his eyes. He stared up at you from your lap. And for a man so good at being invulnerable, he looked extremely soft.

 “Your hair is dry.”

“So it is.” Sylus lifted his head. “Thank you.”

Mephisto cawed loudly and swooped out of the room. Taking Mephisto’s departure as your sign to escape too, you began to shuffle back,.

 “Where are you going?” Sylus wrapped his hands around your ankles once again stopping you.

“Mephisto is gone,” you stated as if the answer was obvious.

“And? He’s a bird, it’s not good for him to stay in one place. You’re not a bird, are you?”

You could see the hurt in his eyes.

“But it’s morning. I have stuff to do. And you should get some sleep,” you said.

“What stuff?” he asked.

You shrugged. You didn’t have many plans—maybe meet up with your colleagues. Not that they were concered about your whereabouts. Your phone hadn’t rung once.

“Since you don’t know, why don’t you stay? Your flight back to Linkon isn’t for a few days yet.” Sylus suggested, letting go of your ankles.

“Stay?”

He stood from the ground and by some will of the gods his towel stayed on. “Yes, stay…with me. It’ll be just us.” He placed his knee on the bed.

Your spine stiffened as you backed away. “I can’t lay around all day.”

“So, it’s okay that I did? Come on, sweetie, that’s not fair. Stay..” He placed his hands on either side of your head, caging you. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You pushed his chest gently—not exerting any real effort. “I dried your hair.” As much as you wanted to leave, you weren’t opposed to being stuck under him. Any sane woman wouldn’t be, especially when he was like this.

He caught your wrists and pinned them to the sheets by either side of your head. “Come on, kitten, we both know that was wasn’t an even deal.”

“What if Tara comes looking for me? Or the rest of my colleagues?” you spluttered.

“They know you’re with me. They won’t disturb,” he purred.

You pursed your lips. You knew he was right. That didn’t mean you wouldn't stop trying. “What about Mephisto? He might—“

“No one is going to disturb us, sweetie,” Sylus interrupted. “Just say you’ll stay. You were restless the entire night.”

“And you’re the one who is restless now,” you retaliated. In the settled silence, you could almost hear the thump of his heart. “Besides, I’m not tired.”

“We can fix that. Come on, sleep with me.”

You gave him an unimpressed side-eye.

“What if I said I wanted to hear a story? Would you tell me one?” he asked. He let go of one of your hands and trailed his fingers down the side of your face. Tucking them under your jaw, he guided you to look at him. His darkened gaze fell between your eyes and lips, dancing caution. Like you were a deer caught in headlights ready to disappear with any sudden movement.

“Why are you suddenly being so clingy?” you asked.

He hummed. “Am I?”

You nodded. “And you’re being too nice.”

“Are you saying I’m crass, miss?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

His eyes narrowed playfully. “Let’s say for your sake that I’ve learnt not to scare an easily startled kitten.”

“How kind…”

With his fingers still under your chin, he guided your head off the sheets, bringing you closer to him. “So, what do you say. It is a simple yes or no…sweetie?” He peered at you through thick eyelashes.

“Why should I?”

“I can hear your heart beating in sync with mine,” he said, bringing you closer.

“You’ve got me pinned to your bed—of course my heart is racing.”

“I can see the desire to stay in your eyes.” He brought you closer.

You scanned his face, barely millimetres away. “Still not good enough,” you said.

He let out a low scoff, looking directly into your eyes. “Because I need you,” he whispered against your lips.

And then he kissed you.

When you closed your eyes, you saw an expanse of dark teal grass dusted with withered, red-stained daisies and carnations. You looked around, first at the red silk dress draped over your body, and then at the tail of mangled dark scales trapping you. Beside you rested the head of the dragon-like creature, protecting you in its slumber. Your eyes traced its surface, taking in its shape and appearance—the long forked tail, wanderer-like body, and large horns. It was like nothing you’d seen before. And yet, you weren’t afraid of it.

You followed its scales with your hand until you reached its face. It stirred beneath your touch. Its deep, unconscious breaths halted as you stared into the giant red eye of the creature. Its pupil slit as it watched you, unmoving, as if waiting for your reaction—the screaming and shouting.

You dropped your hand. You hadn’t meant to wake the beast.

A low grumble reverberated through the creature’s body, one of disapproval.

You crawled slowly toward its face, watching its reaction for any signs to stop.

It stared at you, unblinking.

“Hello there,” you said, stopping beside its high cheekbone and deep crimson eye.

It didn’t respond, continuing to silently observe you.

“Do you have a name?” you asked.

Silence.

A sharp squawk made you look up as a crow flew in circles over the two of you. In the star-sprinkled sky, the crow was a black shadow with beady red eyes passing in flashes. Its speed caused feathers to flutter off its body and cascade down to the ground.

You lifted your hand and watched as a single dark feather landed on your palm. A smile curved on your lips as you admired the large feather, bigger than any crow’s feather you’d seen before—about half the length of your arm. You lifted the feather to the creature.

“For you,” you said to the creature, unsure of whether it could understand you or not. You knew you should have been afraid of the monster. You knew you should have run when you had the chance. But something about it seemed defenseless—tired.

It glanced down, motioning for you to place the feather on the ground.

You put it close to the creature’s jaw. “Where did you come from?”

It didn’t respond.

“What is this place?”

The creature moved its head closer to you, offering its snout.

You placed your hand on the creature’s face. “I suppose you don’t speak human,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a wound oozing thick blood. Your hand moved to it, blocking the hole in its chest.

At the added pressure, the creature grumbled. Slowly, its eyes closed as if to sleep—or perhaps even to die.

“Did you get this whilst protecting me?” you asked. You knew the creature needed healing, or some kind of regeneration. But its core was shattered. Under your fingers, you could only sense how weak it had gotten. It was not strong enough to keep the creature alive, let alone save it.

The creature blinked slowly.

You took that as a yes. “You shouldn’t have done that. You don’t even know me.”

It blinked again, slower this time as you felt its soul slipping from its body.

“I can help you,” you said.

You could help it. It was an ability you had, a one-time bonus that came with having your resonance evol. And you would use it—even if it cost you your power. Even if it bound you to this creature for eternity.

The creature made a sound of disapproval. And with its little strength, it moved away.

You froze so as not to anger it further. Movement was only making the creature’s wound worse.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. Think of it as repayment—common decency, if you will.” You waited for it to move again. When it didn’t, you approached it, lifting your hand. “May I?”

The creature didn’t respond, its breaths deepening.

“Thank you,” you smiled, placing your hand over the wound again. The tips of your fingers glowed as white mist gathered the embers of his evol and molded them with your own before sealing itself in the hole in his chest.

“Don’t close your eyes,” you said, mostly to yourself. “Stay with me.”

Sylus’s hand under your chin brought you back to reality as it moved to rest on the base of your throat, over your chest bone. His other hand, still holding your other wrist, unravelled. Trailing up to your palm, his fingers caressed the smooth skin before he intertwined your fingers  with his. He didn’t exert any force. No, he was careful. His body wishing, pleading, begging with yours for something beyond your awareness. Something only your soul could answer.

You could hear it promising you everything…the world, the universe. At the small price of…you. You knew he meant it. You knew this feeling. You’d felt it in your dreams. Or were they visions? Or perhaps memories from a different you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered the mangled inhuman creature and the sweet, damning taste of pomegranate seeds. And you wondered if this was how you would lose your soul—without ever being told it was on the market.

You broke the kiss. Instantly, you missed the minty taste of his lips.

  “Was I too rough?” Sylus asked. Dishevelled. Searching.

You had never seen him so disgruntled. Not since he was told you were disgusted by him after you’d met.

You shook your head.

“So, it’s something else then?” Sylus began to pull away. His hand slipped from yours, taking the connection with him.

You wanted to be thankful for your freedom…but it was too late, you already resigned yourself to your feelings.

You missed the heat.

You missed him.

Stay with me.

Was this delirium? Or some kind of Stockholm Syndrome? Loving a creature so twisted—so different from you. One who only wore the skin of a prince to lure in and devour the heart of a princess.

“Sylus,” you said. Sitting up, you caught him around his neck before he could get too far away. And with the strength you had left, you pulled him back to you. And kissed him. Silently telling him that you wanted this—you wanted him.

All of him.

And whatever that choice brought with it.

You knew he wasn’t perfect. In other lives maybe you hadn’t chosen to stay—to remain with him and his promises of grandeur amongst the destruction he sought. Maybe this time you’d chosen the path least trekked with the monster whose intent was only ever written about in the annals of history as that of the slain and evil. Ultimately, you didn’t care. You supposed that thought alone was immoral.

Sylus moaned into the kiss. It was quiet, guttural, and just enough to make you want more. You let him guide you back onto the dark silk sheets, your lips moving together all the while.

“I will,” you said between kisses. “I’ll stay.”

He didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t need to. His actions spoke louder than any words either of you could have said.

masterlist

my ao3: Everparanoid

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2

Part 1

Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.

For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!

It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!

“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”

It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.

“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”

“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”

“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.

“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”

“B, a little help here?”

“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”

Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.

“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.

“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”

“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.

“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.

Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”

“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.

“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.

Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.

“Holy shit” Drake whispered.

Damian frowned. “What?”

“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.

“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”

The commlines erupted into chaos. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”

“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.

“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”

“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”

Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”

“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”

Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”

Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”

They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.

“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”

“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.

Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.

“Robin? Stop!”

He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.

Nothing happened.

He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.

Brother of blood, brother of soul

Never buried but already mourned

In lightning and ice the scorned child returned

To strike down the Demon’s Head

With all that Death earned

Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.

“Son…”

Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…

“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.

Part 3

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

in my hearts of hearts I so deeply believe in the importance of more women shopping in the men's clothing section. particularly gender conforming cis women. hear me out:

pockets. pockets pockets pockets. huge pockets. even in skinny jeans and short shorts. pockets are high priority in men's clothes, and designers are not willing to sacrifice them unless absolutely necessary. even the pajamas and swimsuits have pockets big enough to hold your phone. the audacity

better quality & value. men's clothing is consistently made to last longer. you will find better fabric quality, craftsmanship, and general durability in the men's section.

"men's" clothes might fit you better. clothing is way more gender neutral than you've been taught to think. for dresses and stuff you'll still need the women's section, but you'd be surprised at how well "men's" pants, shorts, shirts, and jackets can fit different bodies. in fact, I would go so far as to say that men's clothes are designed to fit a wider variety of body sizes and shapes than women's clothes. if you are one of the many many women who don't fit the ridiculous cookie cutter mold of modern women's fashion, you may very well have better luck in the men's section.

(this includes people with big chests! being designed for broader shoulders also translates into extra tiddy storage space.)

(plus, universal sizing systems based on your actual measurements.) (pro tip for shorter folks: cuffing or hemming pants is the easiest alteration in the world. you can literally just use safety pins.)

you can still find "feminine" things. it's becoming easier & easier to find "men's" clothes in the bright colors/patterns, tighter fits, and shorter hems traditionally associated with women's fashion. shorts are particularly great--you can find lots of mid-thigh versions that are almost identical to women's shorts, but with bigger pockets and a little more coverage.

(also, as most trans people are already aware, people are pretty eager to assume that everyone around them is cis. I guarantee that you'd be shocked at how many people won't realize you're wearing "men's" clothes. they'll just see a women wearing clothing that fits.)

bonus: it's easier to find stuff that's not see-through/doesn't show bra straps. the irony of this is deeply insulting.

in general clothing manufacturers feel able to pull way more bullshit on female customers. a great way to tell them to FUCK OFF is by spending your money elsewhere. your life will become much comfier in the process!

WARNING: consistently shopping in the men's section may accustom you to new levels of comfort and lack of body-conciousness, and make it difficult for you to return to shopping in the women's section. you may find yourself no longer able to put up with previously normalized levels of bullshit. you may find yourself sewing huge pockets into skirts & dresses, because that is the new baseline you demand of all your outfits. these symptoms may become even more pronounced if you start wearing supportive wide-toed walking shoes.

[glossyfairytears]

if you could do a fem!yandere whos possessive but gentle and is trying to force feed the fem!reader, bonus points if the fem!yan is keeping the reader at her home!!

Coactu

Female Yandere X Fem Reader

Warnings: Talk of previous drugging, Talk of previous kidnapping, talk of force feeding, tied up, pet names (Sweetie, Good girl, Baby, Dear)

A/N It has been over a year since I added to Amoura's story T_T for those of you asking, don't worry I have a few things lined up for her. University is kicking my ass so I have had to lock in and study for a while.

“Come on, it’s been two days since you last ate”

You grimaced and turned your head away from her, causing Amoura to sigh.

It had been two days since she pulled you from your bed and took you to her home. Two days since she ripped your life away from you all the while saying it’ll be good for you, better for you to be hidden away from the world.

Your first day was spent being nauseous and out of it from the sedative. Almost wishing to be knocked out again if it meant avoiding the sedative’s hangover. Now, she had you cuffed to a chair with a couple of dishes in front of you. Knowing her, there was a good chance that the food was drugged. If it was not your food, then it would be your drink. you couldn't trust her after she kidnapped you, and rightfully so. No sane person would just blindly trust whatever their kidnapper gave them, regardless of how hungry they were.

Your stomach grumbled loudly, snapping you out of your thoughts. Amoura giggled, a prideful look on her face.

“I know you’re hungry, dear.” She waves a slice of buttered bread in front of you. “Be a good girl for me, you need to eat.”

Much to your stomach’s dismay, you still refuse. Amoura frowns and lets out a tired sigh.

“I really didn’t want to force you, sweetie, but you’re not giving me a choice here.” She steps towards you, causing you to pull against your binds. "Either you eat the food or I'll make you eat it, and we both know you don't want that. It's much better to eat it on your own isn't it?"

She has a point, but really there were no good options.

"I'm not eating that." You glared at her, "You probably drugged it, or worse."

Amoura shot you an offended look before taking a deep breath and exhaling through her nose.

"I did NOT drug it, but I might have to since you keep refusing to eat." She smiles, and you shrink a little into your chair. "you certainly can't fight if you're all drugged up, huh?"

She places the bread down and gets up, going towards the door, laughing a little as she hears you begin to struggle and call out for her.

"oh so now you want to eat, huh?" Amoura turns in the doorway, considering your pleas, "How do I know you won't just spit it out on me. I saw that look earlier."

"I won't, please just...don't drug me, I can--I will eat, please don't drug me again."

She takes a second to consider, but seems to decide to trust you, and you're glad for it. It may be drugged, but at least she won't be injecting you with whatever she used when she kidnapped you. You didn't want to feel that sick again.

Smiling, Amoura picks up the bread and slides onto your lap, straddling your legs, before holding the slice of bread up.

"Open wide, baby."

[centipeettle]

From my dream last night!

[first I.D.: Image is of Jasper from Steven Universe wearing a yellow button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, brown cuffed pants and brown shoes.

Second I.D.: Pearl from Steven Universe is talking to Rose. Pearl is blushing, and Rose is looking at Pearl with a soft expression. Rose is wearing a tied t-shirt and jean shorts and has her hair in a high ponytail. End I.D.]

[pastorpresent]

part 2 to this, but it's not necessary reading to understand this:) tw for panic attacks

-

Logan is going to find every motherfucking TVA agent and rip them methodically into a hundred little chunks, which he's then going to serve to dogpool for her lunch.

He's just got to find Wade and get out of this stupid fucking warehouse first - and seriously, dingy old warehouse for an evil fucking lair? Get creative for once, jesus christ.

The thing was, this mission was supposed to be the definition of easy. The TVA just wanted them to catch some stupid deadpool variant, slap their cuffs on him and be done with it. Hell, Wade had even been looking up nearby lunch spots because they were so convinced they'd be done for then.

They weren't. The variant thing was a trap - which somehow completely went over the TVA's heads - and the place was actually an experimentation warehouse for mutants. They were baited there like fish to a hook, and Wade had been grabbed before either of them could fully grasp what was happening.

Wade was grabbed - and Logan was loosing his god damn mind, because he'd seen the uncharacteristic flicker of fear over the mercs face when they realised what this place was, watched Wade thumb through the paperwork with a tight expression, unsettlingly silent.

He understood. He'd been there, quite literally, but he had the small mercy of not remembering it so completely. His time spent chained to an experimentation table was mercifully shorter than Wades, and he only recalled brief flashes of it.

Wade had told him one night after a few too many drinks that he remembered his weeks in that warehouse vividly. Every second of it was etched into his brain like a branding, and if Logan had known that this mission would take them anywhere even slightly resembling that trauma he would've told the TVA to stick their mission so far up their ass they start choking on it.

He didn't, though, and now he was stuck hiding outside trying to figure out a way to get in there and grab Wade without getting caught himself. He needed back up, realistically.

It stung to call the X-Men. He hated doing it, because seeing them in this universe... it just reminded him of what he'd failed to protect. Of the team he'd essentially killed.

He'd gladly suck all of that up and toss his baggage aside if it meant helping Wade, though.

Even with their help (and their insistence on cuffing instead of murder) It still took a good half hour for them to clear the place.

Logan was growing antsy. He'd seen the sideways looks from Storm and Rogue as his murders grew more brash and violent, prioritising wiping the bastards out as rapidly as possible over doing so in a way which was... more composed and less bloody.

He'd killed about thirty. The team had cuffed and sedated the other lucky twenty, and had taken the... test subjects somewhere safe. Most of them were mutilated beyond looking like recognisable people, half alive, and honestly Logan thought they'd be better off just being put down and freed from their agony, but he didn't voice that. He didn't have time for a morals debate, not when the bastards have had Wade for almost a fucking hour.

"Wade!"

He was dipping in and out of every curtain, trying to find the idiot. His booming voice was echoing through the entire place, and so wherever he was he mustn't be conscious, or verbally able to respond.

Finally he pulled back a curtain and found him.

He was in a glass cylinder, strapped down with thick leather bindings, and was gasping for breath periodically as his skin burned.

An oxygen deprivation machine. The same type that gave Wade his mutation in the first place.

Those fucking sick bastards. He hoped that the team had gotten those men they cuffed the fuck out of here or Logan was going to chop off their fingers and make them eat them, then beat them to the point they were begging for death, and then he'd beat them some more and let them die from blunt force trauma, slowly and in agony on a dirty warehouse floor.

He surged forward, using his claws to bust holes in the machine, allowing immediate air flow while he figured out how to get the damn thing open.

He figured it out, the lid lifting, but something was wrong.

Wade was still gasping for air, his now free hands scratching at his neck desperately.

"Wade, breathe," Logan ordered a little harshly, grabbing the younger man's shoulders.

Big mistake apparently.

Wade was up in an instant, grabbing a nearby scalpel and driving it harshly into Logan's shoulder, his teeth bared and the air missing his usual cry of 'baby knife'.

"Wade, what the fuck are you-"

He was cut off by the medical scissors being thrown at his face, embedding deep into his cheek just below his eye, and fuck that hurt.

"Wade-" he grabbed him, trying to stop him from reaching for any more makeshift weapons, but Wade punched him hard in the face, driving the scissors deeper, and then proceeded to kick him in the balls.

Logan grunted at the impact, barely staying upright and releasing his grip in the momentary recovery.

Wade grabbed a gun from the side and started shooting recklessly, and Logan was painfully aware that some of the X-Men currently standing just a few flimsy curtains away were not as bullet proof as what he was.

He dove atop of Wade, tackling him to the floor, hissing with every bullet that the merc emptied into his torso.

"Wade, stop!"

"Get the fuck off me! Let me go!" Wade screamed, actually screamed at the top of his lungs, his breathing rapid and eyes hard but full of suffocating fear as he thrashed and struggled.

Logan felt horrible. He felt like the shittiest person on the planet, because Wade clearly had no idea what was happening in his panic, didn't recognise Logan or remember the circumstances, and he was terrified. Terrified of continued torture that was sure to come in his mind if Logan 'caught him', and he had no clue what to do.

"Wade it's me, alright? It's Logan. I'm trying to help you."

"I don't- get the fuck off me! Please! Just let me go!"

Wade was sobbing and begging, and from the grip Logan had of his lithe body he could feel his breathing growing shallower.

"I will, bub. I will, but I need you to put the gun down, alright?" Logan said carefully.

He wasn't going to let Wade come out of this having killed somebody he cared about accidently. He wasn't letting him be burdened by that guilt.

"I- I don't- please," Wade sobbed, and Logan swallowed thickly.

"Gun down, Wade," he repeated firmly, and this time he felt the barrel leave his torso and clatter onto the ground.

He continued to pin Wade down with just one arm as he grabbed the gun and tucked it into the back of his jeans.

"Good boy. That's good, thank you. I'm gonna let you up now, bub. Think you can stop trying to kill me for a second so we can talk?"

Wade whimpered softly, and nodded once in response.

Logan eased up on him gradually, rising to his feet and offering out a hand to help Wade do the same.

The younger man didn't take it, scrambling up by himself on shaky legs, taking a few stumbling steps backwards away from Logan.

That stung a little, but he understood. Wade clearly still didn't grasp who he was, and it was probably a very natural reaction to want distance between yourself and your conceived captor who had you pinned to the ground moments ago.

"Look at me, ok? You know me, bub. You know I'm not here to hurt you."

"I- I just want you to let me go. I just want to go home to Vanessa, please."

And maybe that one stung... a lot, more so than any of the sharp objects lodged into his body right now. He often worried about what his existence in this universe meant for Wade. He worried him being here, some sort of unnatural and inconvenient prescence, made it so Wade felt he couldn't truly go after what he wanted. A life with the girl, a few kids, a decent home.

Instead he got stuck with Logan, an alcoholic mess who could barely tolerate basic human interaction most days, and he knew Wade would argue that it was actually vice versa - that Logan was the one stuck with him - but it just wasn't true. Not when Wade was the one with a life he imposed on.

That day with Vanessa, when he'd just almost killed Wade from his own stupidity, rang clear in his head.

('You almost killed him, Logan! He could be dead right now because of you!' Vanessa screamed, voice thick with emotion.

Logan couldn't even bring himself to disagree, or defend himself.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. You know I didn't mean it,' he stressed, staring at Wade's limp body on the couch, his torso wrapped with blood stained bandages.

She looked at him too, and for a painful few moments, there was just heavy silence. It felt like a boot hovering over them, waiting to drop.

'You know, ever since you... appeared here, bad shit has happened. Wade's not himself, because he spends so much of his time on you. He's always in danger trying to drag your sorry ass to safety. It's not fair.'

The boot dropped, and squished him whole.)

"We can. I'll take you to her, but you need to settle down first, bub. Look at me?" Logan said, taking the tiniest of steps closer.

Wade didn't move back, which he took as a win, and he did finally stop his rapid searching to look at him.

"Good. Good job, think you can try match my breathing?"

Another step forward, this one intentionally impossible to avoid noticing, just to gauge Wade's response.

He looked uneasy still but didn't move, and nodded minutely.

Logan breathed in and out slowly, intentionally exaggerated and verbally guiding Wade through it.

It took several minutes, but eventually after calming down considerably, the confusion seemed to evaporate alongside the panic.

"Good boy, again, ok? 1...2...3...4.... exhale-"

"Logan?"

He could've just about collapsed with fucking relief. For a minute or two, he was growing worried that the temporary confusion and amnesia was from more than just the panic attack and the torture chamber. That those bastards had done something to erase his memories just like Stryker had done to him.

"Yeah, it's me, bub," he sighed, shoulders deflating.

"What- what happened?! They hurt you?" Wade hissed, marching into his space and pulling out the scalpel. He reached for the scissors but Logan grabbed his wrist to stop him, opting to ease those out himself.

"Well, you could say that," Logan shrugged, and Wade's brows knotted together, until it seemed the events of the last ten minutes hit him and he gasped, stumbling back and away from him.

Logan didn't know exactly what came over him. Maybe he just couldn't stand the idea of Wade slipping away from him again so soon, even on the most basic physical level.

He filled the space between them, grabbing Wade by his shirt and yanking him forward into a tight hug.

"I hurt you, I fucking shot you-"

"Isn't the first time, won't be the last. Don't you fucking apologise to me, you idiot - you can shove your apologies into that smart ass mouth of yours and swallow 'em," Logan warned, and Wade laughed, but it quickly dissolved into a muffled sob, his hands coming up to fist the back of Logan's shirt desperately.

"They- they-"

"Are gone. It's done. You're safe, unlike those fuckers at the TVA the next time I see them," he growled, and Wade let out another watery laugh, hiding his face away in Logan's neck.

"Take me home?"

"Glady, bub."

[beefycupcakes]

I watched the Cars trilogy recently and with that came a wave of nostalgia and a strange desire to make my own designs for the cars as humans. Aka taking all the charm out of Cars but scratching the brain itch.

So, no need to drag out the intro any longer, I have some notes written out about em for those who might be interested or just bored.

Lightning McQueen:

I tried to make his suit look as professional as possible, with references pulled straight from McQueen's paint job/stickers, while also keeping in mind that I do intend to draw him more so I didn't want to go too crazy with the design. In a perfect world I would've let my maximalist cravings win, but alas let's keep it digestible for my sanity.

I feel like everyone's kinda on this unspoken agreement that McQueen as a human would pretty much look just like Owen Wilson, and that's the big picture here. I used Wilson as inspiration while tweaking and exaggerating a few things to my preference. (Okay, well not everyone, lmao.)

The chevron markings on the front cut off at the side seams not wrapping around the entire suit as to not clash with the sponsor logo on the back.

Also, he's wearing special gloves to help him grip & have control over the steering wheel. I think sometimes that looks a little weird when his sleeves are down & cuffed, but I just feel like he needs to have the gloves there— especially when he comes out of the top half of the suit. (It's also lowkey supposed to mirror his 4 tires when you consider his shoes are also black.)

So yeah, that's basically all I have to to say regarding Lightning McQueen's page. I feel like a lot of my design choices are self explanatory and, honestly probably shared universally... I mean, he's really cut & dry. (But I love him ⚡︎)

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Mater:

I'm not gonna lie, Mater was a bit challenging for me. I definitely had to step out of my comfort zone but I wanted to stay true to the character and not butcher anything.

My first thought was to give him a fishing pole to substitute for the tow hook— but then the more I was thinking about it, the more that felt so... out of place? Radiator Springs is in Arizona, which is (not entirely, but mostly depicted in the movie as) a desert. And even though there are beautiful bodies of water in Arizona, in the movie I don't recall seeing any prominent ones, at least in relation to Mater. So, scratch that, instead I gave him a lasso, which isn't supposed to entirely substitute for the tow truck— no, he still drives a tow truck, but the lasso is so he can grab people/things similarly to Tow Truck Mater (very cartoony). My explanation for this is the cattle ranch. Yeah, Mater is a tow truck driver but perhaps he has a side hustle, or hobby, if you will.

Also, I didn't want to make him... dirty(??) Like, yeah, of course, Mater would obviously get a bit filthy from time to time, it's just in his nature, but that is NOT going to be the core of my design. In regards to the rust happening on him, I felt like instead I would substitute this with being very tan. Again, Arizona is a desert. Because of this, he would take off his shirt often, and this would substitute for the missing hood like on Tow Truck Mater. The removal of the shirt also reveals just how tan Mater actually is.

It's his uniformed overalls that have his original aqua color, but from years of wear & tear they've been patched up with brown patches, this would also reference the rusting. The one strap is supposed to mimic the one headlight being broken, and I know that's a stretch, believe me, I wanted to do something with his eyes but eyes are not the headlights in the Cars universe..... think about this. Think about it really hard... if you know what the headlights are in the Cars universe then this actually makes perfect sense.

He is taller and wider than McQueen, which is a reference to the literal frame of their vehicle counterparts. (A little hard to picture with these images, but eventually I'll draw them together!)

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That's all I have to say really, but do let me know what you guys think! Gas it up and it might encourage me to make a part 2 with some of the other characters! Who would you like to see next? ♡ Thank you so much for reading & have a great day, Kachow!!

[jungshookz]

smitten: y/n (reluctantly) agrees to go to jimin's big halloween bash and she forgot how much she actually hated parties

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook and smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boohoo angsty wattpady fic of your dreams!! the pining and yearning is off the charts!! jimin’s still an asshole but what’s new!! 

➺ wordcount; 9.2k

➺ summary; putting on a smile while watching ji-eun cuddle up to jungkook is already hard enough, but when y/n is (reluctantly) invited to jimin’s massive halloween party, she can’t help but even more out of place. 

➺ what to expect; “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; favourite crime [olivia rodrigo]

➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]; part two [the incriminating note]; part three [the date]

»»————- 👻 ————-««

you’re pretty sure you’re in hell. 

you’re not sure what you did in your past life to have deserved this, but past-life y/n must’ve killed a baby or set an entire village on fire or something to that degree because you’re pretty sure that in this current timeline, you’re in hell 

you stay quiet as you munch on your (slightly soggy, unfortunately) sandwich, scrolling through your phone (but not really paying attention to your instagram feed because apparently you’re a glutton for punishment and you keep wanting to look up and just stare at jungkook and ji-eun in all their coupley glory) while your foot taps anxiously against the ground 

you know that if you say you can sit somewhere else to give the two of them some privacy that jungkook will insist that you stay, but you feel like the longer you sit here the faster the people around you will see that you’re just a big ol’ monster truck sized third wheel

you could lie and say that you have to go to the library to get some work done, but jungkook’s really good at knowing when you’re lying to him (apparently you have VERY obvious tells which you were very unaware of) so that’s not going to be a feasible plan either 

it’s just that being here is incredibly uncomfortable but it seems like the only option you have is to stay and sit through it — which, again, reiterates your point of you being pretty sure you’re being punished for something you did in your past life

“my handsome boy…” ji-eun giggles lightly, reaching over to adjust the collar of jungkook’s jacket before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, “i like this jacket a lot.” 

“yeah?” he gives his girlfriend a boyish grin, looking down at his jacket before looking back up at her, “lucky for you, you can borrow it anytime you’d like-“ you glance up at them, the little voice in your brain stopping you from interrupting them to say that that is a nice jacket because you chose it for jungkook — and you feel like that comment could potentially lump you into the pick-me-girl-best-friend category which you’d very much like to avoid 

“borrow? no, i’m stealing it-“ 

“no way! i got this thrifted for, like, fifteen bucks, i’m not letting you steal it-“

“alright, then you better sleep with one eye open the next time i stay over at yours because this is a nice jacket-“ 

you can’t help but look over at the empty seat next to you on the bench as you let out a quiet sigh… you have never felt so horribly single in your entire life. 

and it doesn’t help that it’s cuffing szn this cuffing szn that all over your social media — your tiktok feed has not been very friendly to you as of late, the app flooded with countless videos of cute couples bundling up for the colder seasons

if anything you need to be cuffed to the wall before you go crazy and rip your eyelashes out from frustration 

unsurprisingly, jungkook and ji-eun are a couple now, but really, are you surprised? jungkook is great, ji-eun is great, they went on a great first date (thanks to you, let’s be honest) and all the dates after that went well too because it lead to jungkook asking ji-eun if she wanted to be exclusive with him 

you knew that things were going well when jungkook started hanging out with you less and less

and then when they officially got together, you didn’t think it could possibly get any worse but your already puny twice a week hangouts turned into two hours a week before he’d zip off to spend time with ji-eun

in fact, within the last two weeks, he’s only hung out with you once… which is fine, because you understand the honeymoon stage and you understand how giddy people can be when they get into a brand new relationship and just want to spend all their time with this new person 

you know for sure that if you were the one who’d gotten into a new relationship, you’d definitely want to spend as much time with your person because why wouldn’t you want to do that? you really can’t blame the guy 

you have other friends you can hang out with, but it’s just not as fun because even when you’re having a good time with them, your mind keeps wandering back to what jungkook is doing with ji-eun 

and of course, when jungkook mentioned to you over a quick lunch one afternoon that he was planning on asking ji-eun to make things official, it’s not like you could tell him that it was a horrible idea and that he shouldn’t be dating ji-eun without ruffling feathers and raising brows of suspicion 

the only person it would be a horrible idea for would be you, and you’re not enough of a dickhead to ruin a potentially good thing because of your own desires  

and obviously, she said yes because why wouldn’t she say yes?

…

you know, there really isn’t a way for you to talk about this situation without sounding like the most bitter person on the planet, so perhaps you should move on now  

“okay, i’m putting you two on drinks duty for the party!” jimin seems to appear out of thin air and you turn your head to look at him standing at the front of the table with an armful of flyers and the usual bossy, snarky persona that literally drains you every time you have an interaction with him, “unless you’re too busy making out to handle that.” 

“no, we can handle it-“ ji-eun rolls her eyes playfully, pulling away from jungkook before reaching over and plucking the list from jimin’s slim fingers, “jesus, jimin. twelve bottles of vodka??” 

“i’ll give you my credit card, just put all the charges on it-“ jimin shrugs, sliding in next to you before nudging you over a little, “this is going to be my greatest party yet. i’m charging $10 an admission and i’m renting out this huge house- i don’t think you can even comprehend how massive this party is going to be. it’s gonna be so much better than last year’s one.” 

“i remember hearing about your party last year!” you chime in, offering jimin a polite smile even though he’s not looking at you, “it sounded like it was super fun.” 

“so, you guys are on drinks, so that’s covered-“ jimin makes a tick on his clipboard before nodding to himself, “decor is covered, catering is covered, rent for the night is covered…” 

you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek, slumping in your seat a little and resisting the urge to roll your eyes

you still have no clue what jimin’s problem is with you, but at this point you’ve gotten used to the way he acts like you literally do not exist at all 

you mentioned it to jungkook one time, wondering if maybe you were just looking too far into it and that there was nothing to take personally to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod and a “no, i also get the vibe that he doesn’t like you and i have no idea why… just let him be an ass if he wants to be one, don’t stoop to his level. life is too short to waste energy on weird people.” 

so if jimin wants to continue being an ass to you, you’re just gonna let it roll off you like water off a duck’s back 

“funny enough, y/n and i were gonna go to your party last year, but the kids in y/n’s building were trick or treating so we decided to stay home and watch horror movies and hand out candy instead-“ jungkook clears his throat, eyes flickering over to you for a brief second, “we also, like, decorated the doorway like it was a haunted apartment to freak the kids out. and y/n had this great idea to have a cauldron filled with warm spaghetti and she told the kids it was brain stew-“ 

“oh my god, i forgot about that-“ you snort, “i feel like we should’ve done, like, warm pudding instead or something, but the spaghetti kinda had the same effect and my kitchen smelled like an italian restaurant for two weeks after that-“ 

“let’s talk costumes!” jimin interrupts you, smacking his palm down on the table before pointing his pen at ji-eun and jungkook, “please don’t show up in anything tacky.” 

“we were thinking barbie and ken!” ji-eun grins, “not tacky, totally trendy — i know we probably won’t be the only barbie and kens in the room, but it’s just so trendy and i loved her pink sequinned cowboy outfit- or if that’s not available, i think the 80s skater costumes were a vibe-“ 

“i can’t whait to talk about horshes and capitahlism wiv a bunch of ovher kensj.” jungkook laughs lightly with a mouthful of sandwich, dabbing his mouth with his napkin before crumpling it up into a ball and tossing it at you

you scowl playfully when it bounces off your forehead and lands on the ground 

“you could go as allen, y/n. that’d be pretty funny.” jungkook swallows his bite, and you want to tell him that he doesn’t have to include you in every part of the conversation because you can practically see the pity for you radiating off of him in waves 

you know for a fact he feels bad that he’s not been able to hang out with you as much lately because every time you do hang out he always brings you a drink or a snack with sympathetic little puppy dog eyes

and every time you have lunch with him and ji-eun he’s always making an effort to include you in the conversation — especially when jimin is around because again, it’s pretty clear the guy doesn’t like you 

you and jungkook spent an entire afternoon trying to figure out why he didn’t like you so much, but you couldn’t come up with any conclusive results, so now whenever jimin is around, jungkook makes even more effort to include you in the conversation 

“allen was my favourite character, so that’s not even a bad idea.” you chirp, pulling out one of the flyers from jimin’s neat pile before looking at it for the details

“oh, right. yeah, you can come too, i guess.” jimin clears his throat quietly, taking the flyer back from you with a chuckle, “…you don’t seem like you’d have anything crazy going on on a friday night.”  

“i can come too? i thought that everyone was invited to this thing?” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to the little note on the flyer, “all it says is general admission.”

“…right.” jimin smiles sweetly at you, “and i suppose i’ll waive the fee for you since you’re… friends with jungkook.” 

“how sweet of you.” you respond curtly, offering a smile just as sweet before letting it drop as soon as he looks away

you are absolutely dreading having to go to this party. 

»»————- 👻 ————-««

“are you sure you don’t want us to come and pick you up? ji-eun has space in her car, you’d just have to sit in the back with all the drinks n stuff-“ 

“i’m good, jungkook, really-“ you mutter, pausing for a second to smudge out your lipstick before leaning back in your chair and turning side to side to look at your finished look 

not that this is jungkook’s fault, but the fact that the two of you really haven’t been hanging out as often gave you a lot of time to think about what you wanted to dress up as for jimin’s halloween costume, and after a solo spooky movie binge the other weekend, you decided that you wanted to dress up as emily from the corpse bride

sure, it’s been done so many times — but you love the movie and you love emily and you had so much time to get everything you needed for this costume so why not dress up as her?? 

you reach up to adjust your blue wig, tugging at it slightly to make sure it’s nice and secure 

“i’m just gonna uber there! plus, my place is kind of out of the way if you guys are already headed to jimin’s.” you clear your throat, “thank you for the offer though. make sure to let ji-eun know i really appreciate the gesture.” 

“okay, i will…” jungkook murmurs, and you can tell by the tone in his voice that he wants to say something but he’s holding himself back, “i guess i’ll see you at the party, then? we’ll probably be there in about forty minutes.” 

“yes, i’ll see you guys at the party.” you nod, wiping the leftover blue lipstick on your fingers on a tissue before reaching over to get ready to press the hangup button 

“y/n?” jungkook’s voice crackling out from your phone speaker makes you pause, and you pull your hand back 

“yea?” 

“we’re- we’re good, right?” the question is somewhat of a surprise to you due to its weirdly serious, non-jungkook nature, your eyes flickering down to look at the contact photo you have set for your friend

he grins like a maniac at the camera, eyes wide and lit up with excitement at the cheesy corn dog he’s holding in front of him 

the corner of your mouth twitches in a fond smile at the memory of that day — jungkook was convinced he’d be able to eat three corn dogs in one sitting and the day ended with him basically destroying your toilet and then refusing to let you use it until the smell cleared out 

“what do you mean?” you clear your throat quietly, lips parting to say something else before you press them together and decide against it

“i mean- i know we haven’t been hanging out a lot lately so i just-“ jungkook coughs, “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.” 

“i-“ you pause again, gaze averting to the side as you think about his comment 

if you’re being completely honest, you don’t think everything is good between the two of you — the first reason why being the fact that you are still completely and utterly head over heels in love with him, and the second reason being that he’s in a relationship with someone else and you’re really not sure how much more of this you can take before you go insane 

but this isn’t exactly something you can hash out over a crackly phone call, and you’re really not in the mood to potentially destroy two relationships at once 

you really don’t know what you’re going to do about this emotional mess, but what you do know is that you’re going to have to take it day by day until you’re eventually ready to face it head on — and tonight, your only job is to smile, enjoy being young, and have lots of fun at what you’re sure is going to be an amazing party despite it being hosted by someone who hates your guts for no reason 

“we’re- we’re good, kook.” you manage to push out, despite the words practically fighting their way out of your mouth, “you’re my best friend, too.” 

“okay. so i’ll see you soon?” 

“yea.” you look at yourself in the vanity mirror, wondering if the sadness in your eyes will make your costume that much more believable, “i’ll see you soon.” 

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

the six pack of lime seltzer water (you got the fancy kinds in glass bottles) clinks in their cardboard carrier as you walk on the sidewalk, blue heels clicking against the pavement as you follow the path leading up towards the house that-

“holy shit.” your jaw drops at the sheer size of this literal mansion — what looks to be an endless number of burgundy bricks separated by neat, thin layers of cement that are stacked on top of each other, two large, white columns that cast identical shadows on the curved sidewalk leading up to the large, black front door, and not to mention, the insane halloween decorations: huge spider webs stretched over the door and windows, fairy lights wrapped around the columns, a stack of pumpkins sitting by the front steps kardashian-style 

you don’t like jimin but you have to hand it to him, he sure can throw a party 

“s’cuse us, sorry!” a trio of girls dressed up as sluttier versions of the powerpuff girls brush past you, bubbles turning around to shoot you a grin, “love your costume, by the way!”

“oh, thank you!” your face immediately breaks into a wide grin, “you guys look great, too-“ 

the random compliment lifts your mood up slightly — you know you’re more than capable of making friends anywhere you go, so if jungkook is too busy mingling with the other couples, you know you’ll be fine 

and hopefully jimin will be too busy playing host to give you any attitude tonight 

you lift your dress up as you make your way up the steps, the corners of your mouth lifting in an excited smile when you see taehyung standing by the door greeting people and collecting their $10 by… having them tuck the bills into the waistband of his boxers

“magic mike?” you laugh, taehyung’s right eye dropping in a wink before thrusts his hips towards you 

“you know it, baby-“ he coos, reaching over to pinch the fabric of your dress to pull you towards him, your cheeks flushing when you stumble into his chest, “be nice to me and i’ll give you a lil lap dance in one of the private rooms-“ 

“taehyung, i swear to god, do not let any of those bills fall into your boxers because i’m not touching anything that touched your penis-“ jimin pops up behind taehyung dressed in a veryaccurate joker costume, his usual blonde hair dyed completely green for the look 

“hi, welcome to the party, $10 an admiss-“ the sweet smile immediately drops from his face when he realises it’s you, jimin leaning back slightly, “wow, corpse bride!” jimin nods, looking you up and down, “seems fitting.” he mutters under his breath, watching as taehyung tapes the neon orange bracelet around your wrist 

“nice to see you too, jimin.” you raise an eyebrow, lifting the six pack up with your other hand, “i didn’t want to come empty-handed, so i brought some drinks!”

“you brought six drinks for a house party? six sparkly waters, too… interesting.” jimin scoffs lightly, plucking the carrier from you before offering you a saccharine sweet smile, “how thoughtful of you. drinks are in the kitchen - first two shots are free, and then it’s $15 a shot after that. cocktails are $5 each, mocktails are $3- you seem like a shirley temple girl anyway- and all of it can be paid through venmo. the bartender will answer any other questions you have. bathrooms are upstairs, and the results to the costume competition will be announced at the end of the night. there are fifteen winners, and the votes are made by everyone here, so you might have a shot at winning something here.” jimin steps aside, gesturing towards the party, “have fun!”

“thank you, jimin.” you smile politely, stepping into the house and immediately rolling your eyes as soon as you turn away from him

so you weren’t able to completely avoid his dickheadedness, but hopefully that’ll be your only interaction with him tonight considering he’s probably going to be busy playing businessman all night 

$15 a shot is kind of insane, though 

you keep your phone pressed flush to your chest as you manoeuvre your way through the packed floor, the neon lights flashing and disco ball glimmering from above making it damn near impossible to navigate this place without bumping into backs and stepping on toes  

the DJ pumps his arm up into the air as he continues spinning his fingers against the discs, the crowd going wild as the song builds up to the chorus 

you can already tell that most of the people here are drunk (you can smell it, too) and you know, if you can’t beat ‘em, why not join them? 

you can find jungkook later, and alcohol is definitely going to make this night a little easier to handle 

“hi!” you smack your hands down on the marble countertop when you finally make your way to the bar, the vampire bartender turning to glance at you over his shoulder before tossing a cloth over his shoulder, “i want- something. shots, a drink, anything-“ your voice is already straining from the way you’re basically screaming over the music but this seems to be the proper way to communicate at a party like this 

“wait, y/n?” your eyes light up when you realise that it’s none other than namjoon in charge of the drinks (and you wonder if your friendship with him will mean he gives you more drinks without charging you for it) and you let out a gasp as you lean over the counter to grasp onto his wrist

“namjoon!” you grin, “oh my god, thank god, finally someone i know at this damn party. why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here??”

“why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here?! i haven’t seen you at the library at all, otherwise i definitely would’ve talked to you about it- what can i get for you?” 

“top-shelf tequila, baby. i saw the list of brands that jimin bought - i want the most expensive one.” you raise an eyebrow, namjoon laughing to himself before nodding 

“alright, i gotcha- you need any chasers with that?” 

“you got cranberry juice?” 

“for you, i’ve got anything-“ namjoon smirks, holding a finger up to excuse himself  

it’s five seconds later that you’re presented with not one, not two, but three shots of tequila, namjoon winking at you as he slides the cranberry juice chasers over to you as well

“you better take these before jimin realises i’ve given you a freebie- i’m about to take a break here, someone else is gonna come in a sec to replace me- you wanna dance?” 

“um, of course i do!” you can’t help but squeal excitedly, “take one with me!” you push a shot glass towards him, namjoon shrugging before picking up the shot and downing it in less than two seconds

you take your second shot, eyes squinting as the burn of alcohol trickles down your throat 

you immediately shudder, reaching for the cranberry juice and tossing it down the hatch 

“oh, jesus-“ you hiss, shuddering against before sticking your tongue out in disgust, “god, that cranberry juice does not help whatsoever-!” you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before namjoon has his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, giggles bubbling out of your mouth as he drags you towards the crowded dance floor to join the rest of the drunken crowd 

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

okay, so maybe this party didn’t turn out to be as bad as you thought it was going to be! 

“that- oh my god-!” you throw your head back in laughter when namjoon pulls out the worst dance moves you’ve ever seen, your eyes pinching shut as you clutch at your stomach 

you’re not sure how much time has passed (to be fair, it’s gonna be hard to tell how much time has passed when you’re at a massive house party with flashing lights and nothing but the sound of speakers booming to guide you) but you know you’ve been having a lot more fun with namjoon than you’ve had with jungkook these last few weeks) ((in fact you’re having so much fun that you almost forgot you were supposed to be heartbroken that the love of your life is with someone else, but also, that could probably be the alcohol taking over)) 

you know at some point you’re going to have to go over and say hi to jungkook eventually because you don’t want him to think that you’re purposely ignoring him or something — after all, it’s not his fault that he likes ji-eun and it’s not something you can pin on him and grill him for — but for now, you’re going to dance a little more, sing a little more, and- 

“i gotta pee!” you gasp all of a sudden, realising that you haven’t peed once since coming here and there’s a lot of tequila sloshing around in your system

“what?” namjoon furrows his brows, reaching up to tap against his ear, “too loud, can’t hear you!” 

“i gotta go pee!” you repeat yourself, pointing towards the staircase leading upstairs, “’m gonna go pee n then ‘m gonna come right back-“ 

“oh, pee?” namjoon nods, finally catching your words before stepping aside a little, “okay, i’ll be right here!” 

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

the silence of the bathroom is more than welcome as soon as you step in and flick the lights on, not at all surprised to see a pair of elegant looking wall sconces lighting up the space 

you squint your eyes as you lean into the mirror, double checking that your makeup is still somewhat intact and you don’t look insane 

“hm. not bad.” you mutter to yourself, turning your head from side to side before nodding, reaching down to pull the endless amounts of tulle up so you can hopefully not piss all over yourself in your tipsy state 

…

…

…

you set the lid down as the toilet flushes, turning the tap on and rinsing your hands underneath the cool water 

“oh, damn-“ you wince when you realise you’re washing some of the blue body paint away and you quickly turn the tap off, shaking the water off your hands before reaching for a neatly folded cotton towelette of course, because regular paper towels aren’t fancy enough for a park jimin party 

you give yourself one last glance in the mirror (you could use a little more lipstick but it’s dark down there so no one’s going to be able to tell anyway) before flicking the lights off 

“oops! i’m sorry-“ you apologise instinctively when you open the door and stumble right into someone, taking a few steps back before looking up to see that it’s jimin, “oh, hey…” you clear your throat quietly, standing up a little straighter before offering him a meek smile 

you always feel like you’re in trouble when you’re around jimin and it’s the worst feeling in the world 

like he’s the principal and you just got caught cheating on a test and he’s about to call home to tell your parents as punishment 

or he’s an officer and he’s about to test you with the breathalyser and you know you’re going to fail because you definitely can’t walk in a straight line right now 

“why am i not surprised that you clearly don’t know how to handle alcohol?” jimin snorts, holding his hands out in case you fall over, “you better not throw up all over me, this suit is custom made-“

“i wasn’t throwing up in the bathroom, i just went in there to pee-“ you roll your eyes, placing both hands on your hips before shaking your head, “you are ridiculous, you know that? even if i was throwing up in your stupid fancy toilets, the normal thing to do would be to ask if me i was okay and if i needed some water! you- you are just so self-centred and just-“

“yeah, uh-huh-“ jimin reaches up to pat the side of your face with a smile, “by the way, if you were looking for jungkook, he’s at the VIP booth with ji-eun and the rest of us.”

“oh, perfect!” you nod, thankful for the information, “i’ll pop over and say hi in a bit, i think it’d be good to sit down too because my heels are kind of killing me and i wouldn’t be surprised if i had, like, a million blisters right now-“ 

“woah, i never said you were allowed to be in the booth with us.” jimin scoffs, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you from moving, “silly girl.” 

your lips part slightly as you look at him, and for a moment the only thing that can be heard is the faint boom and bass of the music playing from downstairs 

“are you… serious?” you ask, unsure if jimin’s joking with you or not

the bored expression on his face tells you that he is indeed, super serious 

all of this just feels so incredibly cliquey and immature and stupid and you know that you’re supposed to be the bigger person because jimin clearly won’t be and you like to think that you’re ten times more emotionally mature than him but he’s making it harder and harder for you to not want to shred up his nice suit with a pair of scissors and cuss him out in front of everyone 

“i’m dead serious. i’m just telling you this so that you don’t embarrass yourself when your drunk ass stumbles over and tries to join us.” jimin says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world, “enjoy the rest of the party, sweetheart.” he brushes past you to head into the washroom and-

“you’re a fucking dickhead, you know that?” you snap, jimin stopping in his tracks before turning his head slightly so you can just make out the side of his face, “i think i’ve been nothing but nice to you ever since i met you, and to be honest, i can’t even think of one reason why you are constantly so fucking rude and overall just unpleasant to me. i don’t say anything when you purposely cut me out of the conversation, i don’t nag when you ignore my questions and comments but respond to everyone else’s, and most importantly, i’ve never called you out for being a jackass when i think i’ve had every chance and opportunity to. if you have a problem with me, then just say so so that we can hash this stupid weird rivalry out and just get along. your best friend and my best friend are in a relationship, and i think it’s in everyone’s best interest that we at least try to get along-“

“oh, shut the fuck up, y/n.” jimin scoffs, turning around to face you, “you know, you always act like you’re better than everyone else, that’s why i don’t like you.”

you feel your shoulders stiffen at the comment before you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest, “well, i’m sorry if i’ve given you that impression but that’s not my intention, i don’t think i’m better than you, i don’t think i’m better than everyone else, and i can’t control how you feel about me but-“ 

“oh my god, even when you’re confronting me about being a dickhead to you you’re still being a sensible goddamn person, it’s like you’re purposely trying to piss me off-“ 

“okay, well, i’m not going to apologise to you for literally being myself because there’s nothing i can do about it. this is a you problem, not a me problem, so if you insist on being such an unreasonable drama queen for however long we’re going to have to spend time together, then i think the solution here is just for you to ignore me — which, you’re already doing a stellar job of, congratulations — and in return, i’ll happily ignore you.”

“i hate when people aren’t themselves. i pick up on that shit right away, and i gotta tell you, y/n, you might be the fakest person of them all.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” 

“i think we both know you’re hiding something from all of us. i think you’re hiding something from yourself, too. i think you’re lying to yourself.” 

there’s a pregnant pause in the conversation and for a second you want to ask him what exactly he’s implying here, but… 

“alright, jimin, well-“ you turn around to head towards the stairs, “you’re fuckin’ being weird, and i’m just trying to have a good time, so i’m just gonna go back down-“ 

“yeah, have a wonderful rest of your evening, corpse bride-“ 

you resist the very strong urge to whip around and literally just strangle the man, but you remind yourself that before you had this little interaction you were actually having a very good time 

“y/n!” jungkook stands at the bottom of the staircase as you make your way down, being careful not to trip over your heels, “hi!” 

“jungkook! oh, there you are- i was wondering where you were-“ you loop an arm with his as you drag him through the hoards of people and towards the bar (you really need a drink and it looks like namjoon is back on the clock)

“there you are!” he laughs lightly, reaching over to tap your hand gently, “i’ve been texting you all night trying to figure out where you were but- is your phone on do not disturb or something?“

“no, it’s not! i’m sorry, i should’ve checked my phone-“ you smile sheepishly, “i’ve been dancing with namjoon this whole time but- where are you guys sitting?”

“i don’t know, some area that jimin squared off for us and a few others- ji-eun’s been asking about you, she wanted to say hi-“ 

“oh! oh my god, yeah, i should probably go say hi to ji-eun-“ you gesture for namjoon to get you some water and he nods, grabbing a cup and filling it up for you, :your ken costume turned out great, by the way-“ you laugh, patting jungkook’s bare chest, “it’s, uh- it’s really giving horses and the patriarchy.”

“thank you, thank you- and your costume turned out so cool too, we should watch corpse bride again when we eventually have another movie night-“ 

“sure! sure, for sure.” you clear your throat quietly, a moment of awkward silence settling in between the two of you 

your friendship feels so… different now 

like there’s this unspoken air of something in between you and jungkook like an invisible brick wall 

and maybe it’s the liquid courage currently sloshing around in your body and the leftover exhilaration from finally calling jimin out on his bullshit, but now you have the urge to talk to jungkook about the weird tension 

“hey, kook, listen-“ you reach up to scratch the back of your neck, “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you but i’ve definitely been putting off for a while…” 

all of a sudden, a drum roll begins to boom from the speakers, the spotlights darting around the crowd before shining towards the main stage at the front of the room, whoops and cheers bouncing off the walls as jimin waltzes his way towards the microphone, a cocky smirk on his face as he raises his hand to get people to quiet down 

“oh, shit, the costume competition results!!” jungkook nudges your side as the two of you turn to face the front, “we can talk about it later, i wanna see who won what- i voted myself for best ken costume, so-“ 

you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and you nod, thankful for the interruption 

maybe it’s a good thing you were interrupted 

telling him in the middle of a party probably wasn’t the best idea, anyway

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

once again, you really have to hand in to jimin 

the man truly knows how to throw a party, because it seems like just about everyone is having the time of their lives — and this costume competition just made things so much more fun

there are definitely a lot of good costumes here tonight and jimin decided to change it up with twenty-five different categories to go through so he’s kind of speed running through the names 

most scary costume, most realistic costume, most well-made costume: he’s got a lot of categories to get through 

you keep a content smile on your face as the costume contest continues to go on, enjoying jimin’s commentary to the point that you nearly forget that the two of you hate each other and he totally just disrespected you like he’s never disrespected you before twenty minutes ago 

“i wonder how that guy made it look like his head was floating… that shit was so cool.” jungkook claps his hands along with the crowd and you nod enthusiastically

“i know, right?! i’m sure he probably took it off tiktok or something - we can definitely look it up after the party and maybe we can try to recreate-“ you stop yourself mid-sentence, suddenly remembering that you guys haven’t exactly been the closest as of late so it feels weird to be offering to do something together, “um-“ you clear your throat, offering a half-hearted shrug, “yeah, we can, like, look it up later or something. maybe you and ji-eun can figure it out and let me know.” 

“yeah! or- you know, you and me-“ jungkook licks over his chapped lips, “like- you know, like- old times or whatever-“

“yeah, yeah- maybe! maybe-“ 

“now, before i announce this special category, i have something to read because-“ jimin sucks in a breath through his teeth before cocking his head to the side, “well, let’s just say it’s some context for the best simp costume of the night.”

you can’t help but frown at the strange category — out of all the halloween costume competitions you’ve been to, “best simp” has certainly never been one that you’ve seen before 

“just wanna remind everyone that this is just a costume competition, everything is based off the costume you’re wearing.” jimin adds, taking a slip of paper out of his back pocket before unfolding it with nimble fingers, “so, uh- you know. don’t take anything seriously, you know? just gotta loosen up and have fun.” 

your brows dip slightly at the weird disclaimer 

…

something about this doesn’t feel right.  

“dear j, this is something that i’ve wanted to tell you for a while but have never had the courage to until now. throughout our entire friendship, you’ve been so kind and loyal and honest with me, and i think that you deserve the same, so this is me being honest with you.” jimin speaks into the microphone, reading the words off the slip of paper with a tone of amusement laced in his powder-soft voice, “to be honest, i’ve liked you for nearly a year now, and i’ve tried so many times to push those feelings down but it’s clear that my feelings aren’t going anywhere anytime soon…” he recites, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as he puts the piece of paper down, “any thoughts on who the winner could be? or should i keep going?” 

your eyelids flutter slightly at the weird change in mood of the lines and a strange feeling of familiarity of those words

“me at that one hot english professor.” a voice pipes out from the crowd and that gets a round of laughter 

you laugh along politely, but you can’t help but feel as though something is off 

something is off

something is very, very off

“i cherish you as a friend and the last thing i want to do is to make things weird, so… you don’t have to worry about my feelings, you know?” 

oh my god. 

you feel the blood immediately drain from your face when you finally realize why these lines are so familiar — it’s because they’re from the note you wrote for jungkook when you were going to tell him you liked him. 

your brain begins to work overtime to figure out how the hell jimin got his hands on that note and why the hell he’d think it’d be okay to read it aloud to this massive group of people and what the hell he’s even doing right now  

“what i’m trying to say is that i like you, j. i like you so much that i don’t know where to even put my feelings, and i’m sick of holding my feelings back and pretending that i’m fine with being just your friend.” 

you know that jimin’s never really been a fan of you, but even this seems like too much of a dickhead move even for him 

you pluck at the cuff of your sleeve anxiously, tracing your steps all the way back to the day you were going to tell jungkook about your feelings for him and the note that you’d accidentally given him that you were hoping was rotting away somewhere in a dump yard but clearly isn’t 

jungkook said he’d given ji-eun the note to spit her gum out into 

but what if she uncrumpled the paper and saw the note?

and what if jimin was there when she uncrumpled the note? 

and then they read it together and ji-eun mentioned that you were reciting this aloud in the bathroom and-

your heart starts to race in your chest and you feel the hairs prickle on your arms as anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach, and you know that no one’s looking at you but you feel like everyone’s looking at you 

you feel sick

you feel like you’re going to throw up and explode at the same time 

“how could you like someone for a year and not tell ‘em?” jungkook snorts, nudging you with his elbow, “who do you think the poor sucker is who said that?” 

“beats me.” you breathe out, feeling yourself shrink slightly when you notice jimin starting to scan the audience, clearly laser-focused on finding you, “i have to- um, i think i need some fresh air, it’s a little warm in here-“ 

“oh- okay-“ jungkook doesn’t get the chance to say much else before you’re turning around, pushing yourself through the crowd of people and trying your best to stay calm 

just breathe

in and out

in and out 

in and out in and out in and out oh my god HURRY UP MOVE MOVE MOVE-

you’re sure that no one will notice if you slink out through the back

and you can always text namjoon later and say that it was great spending time with him but you had a personal emergency and needed to leave the party earlier 

and if jimin decides to expose you, at least you’ll be gone and out of this house and nowhere near any of these people and you don’t have to look at their stupid sympathetic faces and you don’t have to deal with- 

“and the best simp of the night goes to our lovely corpse bride.” 

you freeze when the spotlight lands on you, your heart going a hundred miles a minute as it starts to beat harder and faster in your chest 

you only manage to turn your head weakly to glance over your right shoulder, catching jimin in your peripheral view before you’re slowly twisting around to face him, feet glued to the ground 

“why don’t you come up here and accept your sash, corpse bride?” jimin smirks, plucking the satin sash from (a shocked looking) taehyung’s arms before raising it up in the air slightly, “congratulations on winning, you get two free drinks from the bar. one for you and one for… well, probably also you. get on up here and claim your coupons!” 

you feel your face burning bright red in humiliation and you’re unable to tear your eyes away from jimin, your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides

this is a nightmare

this is actually a nightmare 

this is traumatising in so many ways 

the music seems to quiet down, a loud silence washing over the room as people look at you with expressions of confusion on their faces, everyone clearly a little thrown off at the weird category 

eyes, there are just a million pairs of eyes on you and you feel like you can’t move or breathe or even do anything but stand still in shock

it’s only then that you notice the calculating look on jungkook’s face, his eyelids fluttering slightly before his eyes widen and his head snaps up and over to look at you

his lips part slightly as his eyes dart over the features of your face and you feel your entire body flushing in humiliation and shame, forcing your eyes away from your friend and back to the dickhead on the stage 

“you are really something else, park jimin.” you manage to mutter out before turning on your heel and pushing your way through the crowd, people stepping aside to let you out 

“aw, where are you going? you had a great costume, that’s all we were trying to say!” jimin laughs, actually laughs into the microphone before shrugging, tossing the sash over his shoulder before moving on, “alright, well, more drinks for me, i guess. the next category is best couple’s costume-“ 

“y/n- y/n, wait!” jungkook’s voice is the one thing you hear among the music and bustle of the crowd but he’s the last person you want to talk to right now so you pick up your pace upon spotting the front door 

tears blur your vision as you finally burst out into the open air, your chin trembling as you try your best to keep your composure and not completely burst into tears

“oh my god, oh my fucking god-“ you whimper, sucking in large breaths of air 

run, run, run, the only instinct you have is to run, and you reach down to yank both heels off before taking off into a sprint, the grass slightly damp beneath your bare feet 

it feels very cliché to be running out of a mansion in a big poofy dress, but you can’t even take the moment to laugh at yourself because the only thing you can focus on is the fact that everything has changed completely and you’re forced to face reality a lot sooner than you would’ve liked 

“y/n, come on!” you turn to glance over your shoulder to see jungkook hot on your trail, “you can’t just run away from a discussion you don’t want to have, we need to talk because we both know that things have been off since i started dating ji-eun and now-“ 

“okay, well, now you know, then!” your chest heaves as you come to a stop to catch your breath (you have no idea why you thought running would be a good idea, you get winded after thirty seconds on the treadmill), spinning around to face your friend who skids to a stop, tripping over his feet a little before standing up straight, “the secret’s out, jungkook. we finally solved the puzzle. i love you. i’ve loved you for so long that i don’t even remember when i started feeling this way, but all i know is i love you. you’re the first person i think of when i wake up and you’re the last person i think about before i fall asleep. i would literally drop everything i was doing if you needed me, and you’re the only person i want to spend my free time with.” all the words that you’ve been holding in for the last who knows how long finally spill out, your mouth running uncontrollably, “i love you so much that i helped you set up your date with ji-eun, i love you so much that i’m willing to run in the rain just to get you a teddy bear and a bouquet that’s not even going to me, jungkook, i-“ you blubber, reaching up to wipe at your eyes, “i don’t know what to do. there is no one else in the world i’d rather be with than you, jungkook, and i- to be honest, maybe it’s a good thing that jimin did what he did because you do deserve to know the truth and you do deserve to know how i really feel about you. if this didn’t happen i think i’d just keep it to myself for the rest of my life, but you deserve to know this. i love you, jungkook. i love you and i don’t know if i can keep being friends with you if you’re dating someone else because it’s actually killing me on the inside-“ 

“i love you, y/n,” jungkook breathes out, and you feel yourself letting out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding

relief 

for the first time in a long time, you feel relieved, like a massive weight’s just been lifted off your shoulders 

you feel your heart soar in your chest, and suddenly it’s like all the humiliation and shame has completely washed away, and suddenly you have the feeling to run back into the house to thank jimin for doing this because you know you wouldn’t have said anything if it weren’t for this slightly traumatising experience 

“i love you, i do, but… not in that way.” his shoulders droop slightly and you feel your heart beginning to crackle like a delicate glass sculpture, each splinter creating more damage than the last, “i love you like you’re the first person i call when i get good news because i know you’ll be proud of me, or when i get bad news because i know you’ll be there to comfort me. i love you, like i envision you standing next to me at my wedding fixing my tie or calming me down when whoever i end up marrying is walking down the aisle. i love you like you’ll be fun auntie y/n who spoils my kids with shopping sprees at the mall and who allows them an extra scoop of ice cream after dinner. i love you because you make me a better person, i love you because you encourage me to be the best version of myself i can possibly be. i love you because you remind me to be smart and kind and humble and honest and i trust you to be the one to put me in my place if i ever need it but i-“

“stop.” you feel nauseated hearing all of these words coming out of his mouth, telling you that he loves you because and he loves you because but not just i love you too. “just stop, jungkook.” you know that you can’t control someone else’s feelings but you can control your own reactions, and if jungkook would’ve kept rattling on you don’t know what you would’ve said but you know you probably would’ve lashed out at him 

and it’s good that you finally got your answer, right? he loves you, but not in that way — not in the way that you love him 

“y/n, please-“ jungkook whispers, reaching out for you, his eyebrows scrunching together when you take a small step back, wrapping your arms around yourself, “please, i can’t lose you as a friend, you mean so much to me-“ 

“i need some time.” you manage to force out, the sickening feeling of humiliation and shame and embarrassment and disappointment and frustration and anger swirling around in your stomach, “i just need some time.”

“how much time?” 

“you should probably go back to the party.” you clear your throat quietly, offering your friend a weak smile, “i heard you and ji-eun were up for best couple’s costume. not saying that jimin rigged the system or anything, but-“ 

“y/n, how much time?” jungkook’s looking at you with sad puppy-dog eyes, and though it breaks your heart to see him like that, you need to put yourself first for once 

every instinct inside of you screams to console jungkook, to reassure him and let him now that you’ll still be around but you just need some space from him and the whole situation 

your eyes begin to water again as you press your lips together, shaking your head quietly, “i’m gonna go see if i can catch the bus home.” 

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

(- “the FUCK is wrong with you, huh?!” jungkook barks, slamming jimin up against the wall before grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt, “you sadistic fuck, who in their right mind would ever fucking do that to another human being?!” 

“i’m the sadistic one?” jimin laughs, reaching up to wrap his fingers around jungkook’s wrists, “are you fucking serious? you’re the one whose been dangling yourself in front of y/n like a damn carrot to a starved rabbit-“ 

“what are you talking about?”

“you can’t stand here and honestly say that you didn’t have an inkling that y/n liked you more than a friend. i’ve seen the way you talk to her, i’ve seen the way you look at her, i’ve seen the way you are around her- you think i’m the evil one? at least i don’t take advantage of my friends who are CLEARLY head over heels in love with me and would obviously do anything i wanted them to do and ask them to help me set up a date that i’m taking someone else out on-“ 

“get a fucking life and mind your own damn business for once, you motherf-“) 

🎙️ console y/n or call out jimin because what the hell was that?! (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[tsuvvy]

Oh Sister of Mine

(In progress, updates getting slower)

Back to dc universe section

You were created and raised by David Cain with the sole purpose of destroying your older sister, Cassandra Cain. You were raised to kill efficiently and effectively with the bonus of having meta-human powers of electricity. But you never guessed you'd fail your mission in the best way possible.

Oh Sister of Mine playlist °•☆ Spotify

There are some inconsistencies with the speech y/n can understand, so I apologize for that. Please also keep in mind that this is my first series!

Chapter 1 - Your Chance

word count: 3.1k

The Batfamily is getting intel and weapons back from a dangerous villain. But he had a bodyguard. A child bodyguard who didn't really seem interested in their task of guarding the villain. You seemed more interested in killing Cassandra.

Chapter 2 - Mistreated Stray

word count: 2.3k

You wake up cuffed to a hospital bed. You refuse to cooperate with the Batfamily, and you stubbornly refuse to disclose any information about yourself or how you ended up in your job with Kerrim. And surprise rises when they find out whose DNA matches closest to yours.

Chapter 3 - A Match

word count: 2.2k

A trip to Arkham raises some questions. Questions you still refuse to answer. And questions revolving a father of two kids he’s broken.

Chapter 4 - Safe

word count: 3k

You learn the meaning of safety, even if you might not feel it. And Cassandra learns the feeling of what it’s like to have a little sibling.

Chapter 5 - Poison Constrictions

word count: 3.4k

Cassandra explores her feelings of having a new little sibling while the others work to get information on where the seemingly invisible father might be. Instead, they find someone heavily involved in this situation and discover a disgusting truth.

Chapter 6 - Paranoid Nightmares

word count: 1.6k

Cassandra was in new territory being an older sister. But when you have nightmares from your past, Cassandra steps in to help.

Chapter 7 - in progress

Being worked on!

Tags

༆ oh sister of mine - My posts to the series

☆•. OSOM Discussion - My replies to the things you guys send in my inbox!!

[starwrighter]

The first out of three prompts I'm throwing out this month

Featuring my favorite trope of de aging the ghost boy for trauma and angst purposes :D

Okay! So Danny gets captured by the G.I.W or the Fenton's he's experimented on until his body can no longer take it and he retreats back into his core. Since he is still in the G.I.W's/ the Fenton's lab this doesn't exactly help him escape. With Sadistic Joy the G.I.W/ Fenton's start experimenting with Danny's core. They don't manage to break his core fortunately (whether it be because halfa cores are hard to break or the sheer powerhouse that is Danny you decide!)

Danny reforms before they could figure out how to use his core as a weapon and this causes some side effects. Both halves of him were balanced with each other, instincts clicked into place. New organs and features of his body worked perfectly with his newly enhanced human ones. Only problem with this was that he was now a baby. A literal baby like a little under a year old! And worse news he was still in the lab, his memorys blurry and his thinking process babyfied. He didn't know much about the people keeping him captive right now but he knew they hurt him and he wanted out.

The G.I.W/ Fenton's are furious that Danny reformed before they could create the perfect weapon and are now trying to make him retreat back into his core yet again. They do their worst but do to Danny's new balanced forms He. Does. Not. Give. Danny doesn't retreat back into his core he's unable to; his body healing the damage faster than they could deal it. Eventually they decided they'd kill Danny again the same way he died the first time.

They put the now officially 1yo halfa into the portal chamber. He's cuffed and muzzled to keep him from escaping or making any of those ghostly chirps, clicks, and warbles at them. (They think Danny is threatening them but he's just showing distress and calling for an adult to help him)

They quickly turn the portal off and on again with Danny inside but when they look into the chamber there's no Phantom or ghost core.

The portal didn't kill him though. No, it blasted the infant through the infinite realms so fast he clips into a different universe and crashes directly into Bruce Wayne's living room.

The batfam are very startled because they were just having a movie night, they even got Jason to show up! Now they're trying to coax a terrified baby out from under a piece of furniture so they can get the cuffs and muzzle off him.

Everyone's gone from laughing and cringing from embarrassment from the stupid movie made about their vigilante persona's to being concerned, sad, and angry on behalf of their unexpected guest.

Damian leaves the room for a second and returns with a stuffed animal from his room, offering it to the baby. The baby doesn't have the free hands to grab it but crawls out to reach for it. Damian takes the opportunity to scoop the little boy up and removing muzzle and cuffs.

Danny immediately let's out an avalanche of repressed chirps and trills, excited to be free from his chains and happy with the toy he was given. Danny decides the angry child is okay, he didn't know about the bigger people though.

The entire fam has already decided he's theirs now and they're going to destroy whoever had the balls to do something like this to a child.

(Damian would make a great older brother and you can fight me on this! >:(

[cowboyfromh3ll]

I like the kink hcs you did for Arthur and the boys. What about kink hcs for some of the less popular characters?

Kieran, Sean, Micah, Eagle Flies?

Maybe a sprinkle of Lenny, javier, hosea?

Kink HCs Ft. Kieran Duffy, Sean Macguire, Micah Bell, Lenny Summers, Javier Escuella, Hosea Matthews

I've done Eagle Flies a few times already so I'll stick to these guys hehe. Also finally someone else who thinks Hosea is fine HEAR ME OUT YALLLLL

Warnings: pet play, humiliation, voyeurism, rough sex, name calling, impact play, marking, knife play, blood kink, bdsm, sadomasochism

Kieran Duffy

Surprisingly kinky, and incredibly submissive

I feel like he'd be into puppy play

He's just a sad, wet, and pathetic dog

And I'm talking leashes, collars, maybe even muzzles

You can order him to do just about anything

He'd probably be into humiliation. Will bark if you ask tbh

Part of that would probably involve public sex and the embarrassment that would come from the possibility of being caught

So low-key a voyeur maybe maybe just a little

If you've had a long day just go ahead and take it out on him during sex because he'll love every second of it

Orgasm denial and edging is definitely on the table

Until you have him swearing he's a good boy and deserves to cum

Sean Macguire

This man will do anything as long as he gets to cum

Though he'd probably steer away from the heavier kinks

He's into body worship. Not for his own body but yours

Kisses every inch of skin and appreciates your entire being before and during the act

He'd kiss the very ground you walk on tbh

Likes dominating but he doesn't mind taking things slow and kissing your feet and legs while you talk about your day

He's a real fun guy so I'd imagine he'd also like some form of roleplay. Ends up being really silly but plays his part real well. Makes sense his favorite roleplay scenario would be cop and criminal

He seems like the type to have fuzzy pink handcuffs LMAOO

Micah Bell

Let's be realistic he's probably into some freak shit at your expense

Rough sex always. Ain't no sweet and slow love making

Definitely into degrading

Hair pulling, slapping, spitting in your mouth or on your face, etc

Probably into spanking

Will "punish" you for just about anything

Lots of spur of the moment sex, like y'all will be in a public area and he'll suddenly want to take you

Name calling !

Whore, bitch, slut are commonly thrown around

Marking, you will always be bruised or have teeth marks and even scratches

Lenny Summers

He's such a sweetie, I have a hard time imagining him being very kinky

He'd probably be into some more gentle shit

Y'all would go through your more experimental phase

He's wholesome so he'd like praise, and that would go both ways between you two

Would let you order him around but more so he can learn what you like and what you want him to do

Once he gets more into it he'll become more passionate, he just needs more practice

I feel like the farthest he'd go in terms of inflicting any discomfort would be choking, but it would never go far. He'd end up taking his hand away last minute

He'd probably want to try different dynamics so he'd want to try subbing

Needs to be reminded of his role because he gets too enthusiastic

Javier Escuella

It's a universal fandom headcannon that he's into knife play

So knife play

Ghosts the tip of the blade up your thigh closer to your pussy before pressing the cold metal flat against you

Then runs it back down to your knee, repeats the same motion over and over again until you're shaking

Would probably enjoy typing you up/cuffing you so you're helpless to whatever he does

He'd probably be scared to actually draw blood but if you're into it he'll be down

Licks up any bloody wounds or sucks on them

Praises you so much the entire time

He'd be incredibly romantic though, incredibly good at aftercare

I think there'd also be times where he gets really into it and feeds off on the fear in your eyes

Hosea Matthews

He's such a sweetie but I feel like he'd be an incredibly experienced dom

These are my headcannons and I think Hosea is fine asf so leave me alone

Into leather crops, whips, blindfolds, gags, etc

Drips candle wax on you

Very flexible in terms of what he'll do

But he has to Dom

He can either be really good at praise or will degrade you

Brat tamer for sure

I can even imagine him having cages bro

Talks you through everything and gives you very detailed commands

Inflicts pain on you but knows extremely well how far to go and how much is too much

[kieran-granola]

Tim keeps stealing Jason's helmet.

Nobody can figure out why he does it. He doesn't wear them. As far as the Bats can tell he doesn't destroy them. And it doesn't look like he's taken to reverse-engineering Roy's tech in them either. No, it's like he just.... yoinks them and disappears them.

Jason gets progressively angrier about this because these helmets cost a ton of money, and like, yeah, okay, he has taken them off in the field for dramatic effect before... but he usually gets them back unless they're busted because he's not fucking made of money, Timtopher.

Unfortunately, whenever Jason confronts him, Tim is adamant that he hasn't stolen anything. And the thing is, Jason is sure it's him, but he doesn't have any actual proof he could use to wipe Tim's smug fake-innocent smile off his dumb, pretty face. There's no video footage, no prints from him that prove that he did it, and when Jason breaks into his place to look for his stash he doesn't find a single helmet anywhere.

It's maddening.

Jason: "Bruce, we have to talk about your kleptomaniac."

Bruce: "I have no influence whatsoever on what Selina does with her time."

Jason: "...I meant Tim."

Bruce: "Oh."

Jason: "..."

Bruce: "...Unfortunately I also have no influence whatsoever on what Tim does with his time."

Jason is pretty sure he has more white hairs than he used to because when will Tim's reign of terror cease? Please, he doesn't want to have to ask Bruce for money. It gets so bad that, eventually, Jason gives up on security measures and decides to just... Keep the helmet on at all times.

It's annoying, and it makes sleeping pretty unpleasant but God help him, you won't get away with stealing a single helmet more, Timathan!

Or so he thinks, at least... Until he wakes up without his helmet.

At this point Jason is considering giving up, because... how—what—no way!!!

But.

He still has one more thing to try and that's straight up haunting Tim. Like, he visits Constantine, uses what money he has left to buy a pair of inescapable magical handcuffs ("Don't ask." "I wasn't about to. What you like in bed's your business, big guy." "It's not like th—Ah fuck, you know what, think what you want.") and marches his way to Tim before cuffing them together.

Tim, blinking at the cuffs, bemused: "You didn't think that one through, did you?"

Jason: "Shut up."

Tim: "No, seriously, what if I need to pee?"

Jason: "Guess you better confess your sins then, or you and I are gonna get verrryyy well acquainted."

Unfortunately for Tim, Jason has the advantage there, because it turns out that the consumption of energy drinks does tend to translate to bathroom uses. Sure, Tim has been to boarding school with shared showers and locker rooms, and he did lose any and all sense of shame. But well... Sharing showers with your schoolmates is one thing, but peeing with your crush staring is another, and he's not an expert on romance but he's pretty sure that would be a faux pas.

With a soul-deep sigh, Tim drags Jason to his lab and finally shows him what he's been doing with the helmets.

Turns out, surviving a warehouse explosion is totally possible when one is wearing highly protective armor to spare their brain from any major damage. Sure, contusions and bodily wounds suck, but they can heal, and Bruce has very very good doctors available, as plenty of alternate universe!Jasons have found out.

Tim: "...and see, this is why I HAVEN'T stolen anything, because I just gave your helmet back to you!"

Jason: "Timothy. You're a maniac, and I'm gonna kiss you now."

Tim: "Oh, ok—hmpf!"

[mortuarywriting]

Falling into Place

Ao3 Link - [First] - [Next Chapter ->]

All things considered this isn't what you were expecting to wake up to when you went to bed. One minute you're on your phone, trying to pass out, and the next? You're here. You've had some interesting greetings in your life, but dropping about six feet and having twelve guns leveled at your face? That takes the cake

Warnings:

Reader Insert, Plus-Size Reader, The Author Regrets Everything, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Isekai, canon divergence Look we're gonna dig into the implications of omegasverse changing bits and pieces of history as well as addressing whatever the FUCK is happening as CoD's history. Idk man Godzilla is canon and nobody bats an eye at that fact and you think I'm gonna be normal about that? No

You could be having a worse day, you think, as you stare at the interrogation table you're cuffed to. They could've shot you the second you fell the six feet from the sky into a random army base. That's a very real thing that could've happened.

But no, you just had a dozen guns pointed at you in one moment and a slew of questions you didn't have satisfying answers for.

No, you had no idea how you got there. You'd been in bed tooling around on your phone and then you were falling.

They asked who you worked for, and were not impressed by your mundane answer. You didn't work for some pmc or intelligence organization. You asked them to their faces if they thought you could pass a PT test if you tried. Not that they answered or appreciated your point, mind.

It was only after you gave them whatever identifying information you had that things got… spicy.

"I would love to tell you what this designation of yours is if you tell me what you mean. Is it like a classification of civilian versus enlisted? Is it physical? Is it your horoscope? I don't know what I don't know," you explain again for the Nth time. You didn't wanna play twenty questions but here you fuckin were, captive audience and all.

The man asking you questions had lost his charming good cop look. He was getting more and more annoyed on this one, "your designation," a demand, not a question and sure as shit not an answer.

"Again, would love to tell you! I don't know what you mean! Feels like some kinda Star Wars thing," you grumble the last bit to yourself but the man cocks his head.

His eyes narrow, "what are… Star Wars, you said?"

You blink owlishly, "beg pardon?"

"Star War. Clarify."

It's your turn for your brow to furrow, and furrow it does, "Star Wars? As in the multi-billion dollar franchise created by George Lucas and eventually sold to Disney," your tone is questioning, just shy of asking if the guy lived under a rock but his expression didn't let up and the last thing you needed was bad cop, so you continued, "the story of what happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away? The political space series of movies versus Star Trek's more scientific and discovery based longstanding TV show? Nine major movies and the Clone Wars before Disney sunk their talons in. Like yeah we got more shows and movies that expanded the universe but they also cut out decades of book contributions in their acquisition and that kinda sucked. But yeah, that Star Wars?"

"Nine movies," his tone is disbelieving, and now it's your turn for your eyebrows to raise, "can you name them?"

You nod, "well yeah. Do you want them in episode order or release?"

His brows furrow, "did they not release in order?"

"In a sense? Three trilogies, 4-5-6 back in the late 70s early 80s, then 1-2-3 in the late 90s early 00s, and 7-8-9 through the teens. So order, yes, just… not a cohesive one."

"Release, then," he leaned back and crossed his arms, a position you'd love to mimic if you weren't cuffed to the table for… an indeterminate period of time now, actually.

"A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi-"

"Woah now, empire? What's a jeddy?"

You give him a blank look, trying very hard to mask your disbelief as you look between him and the mirror behind him. You look at your reflection, take a deep breath, and- "sir would it be easier for you to maybe check the internet?"

He seemed to bristle, nose flaring and looking at you expectantly.

You just… kinda sat there. You tapped your fingers together on the desk and kept the eye contact he was intent on. It took a good minute and him getting progressively pissier before you simply ask, "would you like the other movies now?"

You didn't expect an explosion of movement from the man. He downright snarled and slammed his hands on the table as he burst to his feet, the sudden change sending his chair screeching back before falling with a clatter. You leaned as far back as your cuffed hands would allow, eyes wide and a panic rising.

Both of you turned to look at the door when it slammed open with a barked, "Williams!" 

The man who opened it reared back a bit, "Christ, layin' it on a bit thick," he groused, his tone sounding more like someone chastising a teenager for using too much Axe body spray. He smoothed his posture back into something casual as he fanned the air dismissively with a hand, "cap wants you to take a walk."

Your interrogator- Williams, apparently- stares at the man in the door, the two locking eyes before the one in the door straightens from his purposely relaxed posture. You watch the both of them, noting the shoulders tensing as the two just. Staring at each other? Eventually the guy who'd been grilling you looked away and stormed out, the man in the doorway letting him slip out easily enough before turning a charming look back to you.

He took a minute to fan the door a few times to get newer, blissfully cool air in before he entered the room, "sorry 'bout him. He really did a number in here," the new guy tsked before closing the door quietly behind himself.

Your brow furrowed even as you slowly relaxed a bit, had this Williams guy like… farted or something? A nice quirk of ventilation keeping you from smelling something abhorrent? Either way you simply shrug as he walks in and tips the chair back up, sitting and giving another reassuring smile, "how you doing, love?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times before simply settling on, "I'm a bit… whelmed? This has been," you give as vague a rolling gesture as you can without your cuffs rattling too badly, "a lot? And I have no idea what just set him off either?"

It's the man before you's turn to quirk a brow, "no idea?"

"If I knew the answers to his questions I'd've given 'em by now. I don't, though, and then he just started staring? And hell I just thought it was some kinda macho 'I can stare the truth out of you,'" you pitched your voice lower and pushed your shoulders out for a second to mimic the douchebag behavior before settling, "so I kept eye contact because I'm so out of my depth I have no reason to lie at all and now…" you trail off, gesturing around the room, "all that."

The man nods slowly, "alright love, could you tell me about the last five years?"

Your brows furrow, "oh fuck, 2019 was five years ago wasn't it. God, time is an illusion. Anyway, you want what I was doing leading up to and through the pandemic?"

You think he might've startled for a second but he simply moved to scratch his chin, "mhmm. Just your thoughts on the last five years is all."

So… you ramble. Because he was nice and not prodding or asking weird questions. You talk to him about your job before the pandemic, how people thought covid was just a flu until the death tolls kept climbing, how tons of governments dropped the ball on a local or country-wide level and how that kicked back onto your life, and then the absolute crapshoot of the last election cycle, the shitty 'oh no this is the new normal everything is fine' behavior that has lead to surges and cycles of a fucking plague and so on. He simply nodded, gave some sympathetic hums and winces appropriately at your experiences.

"And did you go back and watch Star Wars through that? Or other things Disney owned?"

And, well, that was a weird way to phrase it but you shrugged, "the mouse is just shy of a monopoly and not one that anybody can take that down so… yeah, I guess? They kept putting shows out and expanding their Star Wars universe so that's been kinda neat to watch but not just them, no. Couple other games and stuff like that to keep me busy, too," you kinda handwave and shut up because panic rambling to MILITARY PERSONNEL is probably not your smartest move in hindsight. Especially when you don't know his name. A+, self.

You tap your fingers against the metal table as he looks at you, "and you said covid has a long term effect of ruining people's senses of smell and taste?"

You nod slowly, "yeah, dude? It's one of the biggest warning signs for most people? Like if everything starts tasting like it was made by a middle class white mom who keeps shoving random letters in her kids names you should swab? That kinda shit?"

What rock has this guy been living under? You were pretty sure the military were supposed to be way more familiar with this shit all things considered, but you've been wrong before.

It was his turn to give you a bit of a wide eyed look before he poorly covers a laugh, "alright, that's fair. I need to go talk with my captain," he hooks a thumb over his shoulder to the window, which didn't surprise you that there had been people back there. He offers a reassuring smile as he stands, humming idly as he pushes the chair back in. He pauses mid-step, "you mentioned that there were cards…?"

You find yourself nodding slowly, "yeah it was important and you couldn't fly or go to certain places if you didn't have one for a while. Should still have a picture of mine buried on my phone," you really didn't wanna get another first-round of covid shots, you REALLY didn't wanna repeat the 24 hours of suck for no reason.

"Cool, thanks," he flashes another charming grin before he slides out of the room.

You lean back in your chair, what an odd guy. Nice though.

-------

"Right," Gaz says as he opens the door to Price and Ghost, "either our mystery guest is off her nut or she's legitimately from somewhere and somewhen else."

Ghost and Price look at each other before turning back to Gaz, this… complicated matters.

Well, it's not like you hadn't given them information to identify yourself. They'd dig up who you were one way or another.

-------

You stare blankly as the nice man from before gives you a sympathetic look, "what do you mean I'm dead?"

Behind him is a guy you're not sure if he's just fuckoff huge or if he's just moderately huge and it's forced perspective.

You don't think it's forced perspective.

You are absolutely trying not to panic spiral.

You are absolutely doing a horrible job at that.

"Well," he opens the file before him and there's a news article, proudly proclaiming "Locals Die in Horrible Freak Accident" like that's not some form of you that was looking like some smear on the pavement, "there's this. Fingerprints match up. Can check for dental if you're really curious."

"Were there even any teeth left after that," you mumble as you take and read the offered article. Seven people were involved, the pictures used are mostly flattering. Hell, you almost don't mind what pic they used for an alternate you but… "that's certainly not the pic I would've wanted. Maybe this me had different tastes?"

You take the time to actually read through the article. It's not helping because for as much as you stare at the page you're not absorbing any information. Some form of detachment, if this was really you? You'd died. A different you but a you nonetheless. You died and you're reading how it happened. There was a lot to unpack in all this and you just needed to put the suitcase away for now. You'd much rather throw it away at this rate.

You were rapidly coming to the understanding that you and Toto were not in Kansas anymore, and there wasn't a convenient yellow brick road to get yourself back home. No easy way to get the hell out of Dodge either. Was it Dodge or the O.K. Corral that was in Kansas? No the O.K. Corral wasn't in Kansas- Dodge was though, that's right. 

This analogy was getting away from you and some part of you figured this was just your brain trying to protect yourself but… wait, wasn't this a metaphor? There wasn't 'like' or 'as' or goddammit not again.

You recognize some names here and there but largely everyone involved were perfect strangers. The article doesn't cover if it would've been slow or quick. You hope for the smear that it was quick. Smears like that don't happen slowly, right? Well, not unless it's like a dramatic slide down a window, but not usually across pavement like that.

Still not sure how you feel about all of it. Bit morbid being confronted with your mortality like that.

Certainly answered a lot of questions about your theoretical passing you never thought about. Like if the obituary for you in what you know to be your own home and world is just as… really kinda just mediocre as this. Have you really done nothing of note for an obituary? Damn.

You kept pouring over the article, each pass bringing new words into focus that help connect the picture a little bit, but… Something repeated in the article made you pause, "two alphas, four betas, and an omega?" 

There was no decent way to ask about that. Any questions invoked from here would border into dangerous territory better kept between yourself and a private browser history. You knew what you were about but there was no fucking way.

"Their designations," the nice man whose name you still hadn't caught explains, "mostly explaining their secondary gender."

You look at him owlishly. You pray to whatever God might be listening that you wake up shortly. Or that the earth below your feet opens up and swallows you. Whichever comes first, the mortification will snipe you otherwise.

"Please tell me this is an elaborate joke at my expense," you are very quiet as you are trying to get really cool with a lot of things really quickly.

"Negative," the big fucker in the back practically growled and you knew that voice would do things to you if you weren't half stepped out of your own body. 

You missed whatever his followup was but your brow furrowed when you checked the date on the article, "I've been dead for months? That…" you let the paper fall from your hands. Everything about this is wild at best and very overwhelming at worst. 

A lot of this qualified as worst.

You look up at the two, missing the odd look they shot at each other as you try to pull yourself back together, "so now what? You've got a not-a-smear of me that fell from the sky onto a secure military base, and where I'm from we didn't have," you paused to gesture between the paper and the two soldiers, "dynamics was it? That was just a fanfiction special."

"Fanfiction."

The way he said it was so carefully neutral you paused, "oh my god without Star Trek to popularize fanfiction and the fan community, how has fandom evolved? Is fanfiction a thing- well, yes, it does fanfics have been a thing since Dante Alighieri wrote the Divine Comedy and even before- well, the question is more if it's still popularized? Are there still the wattpad fics of- I am getting so off track. What exactly is the next step?"

You look from the nice man to the big fucker and back, neither saying anything but looking at you with careful blankness.

You felt like you were being weighed and measured in their eyes.

You hoped to anyone listening that you weren't found wanting at least. Not when you're in the shit situation it looks like you ever so increasingly fell into.

"Considering I'm. Not smear. And very much not from here? Are blanks a thing? Or is that what a beta is I'm," you trail off, brow furrowing, "fuzzy. On the whole thing. The flavor of understanding, dynamics, and population skew tended to be dependant on the author's level of horny."

The did get a bit of a snort from the pretty one before you, the one in the back tilting his head just so as the pretty one spurred you on, "okay please don't take this the wrong way, you have given me nothing to go on but A/B/O and-" a finger was raised in question to that, you quickly explaining, "the fanfic shorthand for the universe without being a mouthful. Anyway- I've seen population numbers being roughly the same across the board, I've seen alphas and omegas at roughly 1% of the population of society on either end, I've seen alphas at about 5% and omegas at 1%- those ones are usually the most horny I swear.

"And it's all over the board, no consistency- sometimes it's betas are infertile, sometimes they're the straightman to the comedy that's an alpha and omega trying to woo each other without being too horny to function. Sometimes it's a sliding scale where being beta just means you're more the more middle-ground regulated hormonally with alphas and omegas being the opposing ends of a spectrum. Can you please say something and give me a fucking break because my panic rambles are probably like. Some kinda prejudiced. I'm still not over the 'I'm supposed to be a smear on the ground we don't even have dental images of to confirm who it is anymore' nugget you dropped on me. I think I'm doing well for this"

You would rather not tell them that as soon as you're out of this box of a room you were gonna be curled up in a ball and unabashedly weeping. That was none of their business.

The pretty one gave you what you're sure was supposed to be a reassuring smile but the quiet stretched just a bit too long. You looked from one to the other before leaning forward, "is this supposed to be soothing in some way? Because it's just a bit of an extended awkward silence and that's uh-"

It was the big one in the back's turn to give an amused snort, the pretty one looking bashful, "right, sorry, we uh-"

You jerk a bit, "wait, was that supposed to be some scent thing," you really didn't wanna say pheromones and potentially dig yourself into a deeper, more awkward hole based on Horny Pseudoscience.

Pretty rubbed the back of his neck, "something like that. You really couldn't smell anything?"

You know the exact Face you're making. It's very much your 'I have told you this and I'm getting tired of having to repeat it' face. You can tell he clocks it but for the record, because to your mortification this has to be recorded, you simply give a succinct, "no, I haven't smelled anything. Not from you, not from him," you jerk your head towards the big fucker, "and not from douchebag from be- Williams! His name was Williams. Nothing. Really had no clue why you were fanning the door when you came in."

You sigh, rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes, "okay. Assuming I'm not about to be put into past tense a second time. Do we have any idea what popped me out here?"

The sentences are stilted, you know you're getting more rattled the longer you're here but sue you alright it's been the worst six hours of your life here.

They just continue to look at you, pretty keeping a polite almost customer service look as big one just stares unceasingly.

"Right. Okay. Am I going to be reintegrated to society or is this," you gesture around the little room as much as you can, "looking like my home for the foreseeable future."

No change in what you can see of either's expression, and you just sag. Deep breath in, deep breath out, "cool. Alright. Well. I know nothing of how biology is altered here, I'm not sure how that has impacted changes throughout history, and frankly I don't know what your pop culture has done. I'm assuming math and written languages are largely the same but in all fairness I don't know what I don't know."

You just stare quietly at the table for a bit longer before looking back at the two of them, "is there anything else you need because I can feel the freakout creeping up and while I know there's no real privacy, uh…"

The pretty one looked back to the big one, at some point you're sure you'll get some sort of names but for now? Now you watch the big one nod, the pretty one give you a polite smile and some vaguely polite bullshit your brain is swiftly going too far out to hear.

You only hope that whoever is behind the mirror is polite enough to look away as you put your head down on the table and give yourself the opportunity to, just this once, cry. As a treat.

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