#He is the original sewer man

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Crawl through the Sewers.

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim Drake, Danny’s human identity in this universe, is a boy trapped in an empty manor with absentee parents a low socialization.

Danny Phantom, on the other hand, is Gotham City himself. He could fly, he could interact, he could be the heart of his city like he needs to be. From the lowest of the lows to the highest of the highs, Danny loved the people that were his. Well, most of them. Child molesters often found themselves crossing paths with a vengeful, mostly recovered Robin.

He is the city, he is Gotham. And with his status came more changes, ones he welcomes more readily that the changes that came with his title of Ghost King.

Being a city couldn’t change him as much as it would have, had he gained the title before becoming King. But now, his shadows are dark, curling around his shoulders and curling away what little light he allowed into his city. His skin, having once glittered green with stars and galaxies and black holes, clouds over just a bit. It gives him a misty quality. His hands become sharper, stronger. Gargoyle-like. He wonders what he looked like to Batman, holding his broken son cradled safely to himself. He’s crueler, now, but that’s easily balanced by his years of being a vigilante himself.

He loves these changes. They are loved in a way changing into Dead Danny Phantom and Ghost King Danny Phantom will never be loved. And even though his human features are different in a way he never had to deal with as Danny Fenton, because it was his body that he died in, Danny finds himself enjoying the distinction. And he enjoys when they combine, because in the end, they’re just facets of who he is, now.

Gotham flies through his city, and enjoys it as a whole. A bigger picture.

Tim Drake walks through his city, and enjoys it as an individual. The smaller picture.

Being Gotham reminds him of what he had to protect as a whole. A duty he gladly bears.

Being Tim reminds him of the people he’s meant to help, the stories he doesn’t get as Danny. A connection he gladly encouraged.

Gotham is power. He is duty, he is fierce love. But for the good of the whole.

Tim is kindness. He is choice, he is gentle devotion. But for the good of the individual.

He’s both.

Danny. Danny Phantom.

Phantom glides through the smog.

The ebb and flow of people is his life blood, the thrumming of life and death and fear and hate and love and everything the city is sung through him and Danny sung back with everything he had. Danny is the gargoyles perched high, watching everything. He’s the stone curves of the sewers, sheltering his rats and mutant murderous crocodile man. The is no love comparable to a city’s mutant rats and their sewers. Ancients, he loves his city.

It would be nice, Danny thinks wryly, if they’d love me enough to stop blowing up buildings.

The sting of destruction to his city would hurt much more, had he not also been King. Regardless, every time there’s an explosion or general large scale property damage, he feels a stab of mild pain. Catching sight of his Bats, Danny stays invisible while following them. He wills the shadows to cradle them, to hide them further. He softens the stone, the mortar, the steel, just a hint. Their footsteps, silent and aided by the city himself. The wind steal away the noise of the grappling guns, so when Danny’s favorite vigilante duo (a fascination he shared with original text!Tim) broke into the building, not a single soul aside them are aware of the intrusion.

Batman skulks across the support beams, Robin following with an anticipatory grin. Danny floats, invisible, undetectable, besides them.

“C’mon!” A goon grunts beneath them. Danny tilts his head. A… Dresden Aberthy. Wow. That’s one hell of a name.

“Hurry it up! Boss said Batman’s going to get here soon!” Another goon- Robbert- said, waving around a gun like a moron at the terrified hostages. Danny could tell half of them were part of a tour bus, mostly because the other half were his Gothamites, bored and unfairly used to this kind of thing. The tourists… He’s fond of them, having kept track of their progress through his city. He doesn’t care for intruders on his haunt, but tourists like to appreciate his city and its doubtlessly Sam-approved architecture. Most of them. Rude tourists get pigeon shit on their heads and food stolen by his lovely rats.

He’ll have to make sure none of the bullets hit the tourists. He likes this group, even if he has enough awareness to question their sanity in choosing his city to sightsee. He knows it’s a mess. It’s Danny’s mess though, so whatever.

——

All said and done, Batman whoops ass and Robin rescues the hostages just fine. Danny grins proudly as Robin knees a guy in the crotch and punches a lady’s throat in order to incapacitate them.

After they tied the goons up, and interrogated them for Two Face’s plans- explode a quarter of Gotham to distract the Bats from his diabolical plan to murder half of Gotham’s judges and lawyers that have been going after him and his people- the duo retreats to the rooftop.

“Didja think Gotham saw that?”

Batman goes to reply, but Danny beats him to it, coming back to visibility with a wind touched laugh.

“I did, little Robin.” Danny smiles, fangs and shadows on display as his vigilantes startles and whips around to face him. “You did well.”

Robin- Jason!- gapes at him.

“I see you’ve recovered, little bird.”

“Gotham! Oh. Wow. People always said Gotham was a lady, but you’re a guy!”

“It was a Lady,” Danny confirmed. “It’s complicated, little bird.”

“So, you’re really… you’re really Gotham? The city?”

Danny looks at Robin with the weight of the city behind his gaze.

“I think you know the answer to that. But yes, I am your city.”

“Constantine,” Batman starts. “He said that city spirits only appear in times of grave danger.”

There is deference in his words. Batman is Batman for Gotham, after all. Danny just wishes he could… well, be friendlier with his knights. May this is a good place to start.

Are you in danger? What threats do we need to handle? How can I help? How can I protect? Please, let me help.

His Knight always felt more than he ever says. Danny smiles.

“Was Robin’s wellbeing not in grave danger?” Danny floats closer. “I am your city. You protect me, it is only right that I protect you, no?”

“Thank you for saving me, Gotham!” Robin’s grin is a touch more sincere than usual.

“Of course, Robin. You are loved.”

“Is there… a reason you’ve shown yourself today? Gotham.”

Danny chuckles, understanding the awkwardness that was Batman addressing someone with deference.

“I wanted to tell you that you did well tonight. Those tourists weren’t harmed in the slightest. Well done.” Danny gave Robin a playful but sincere thumbs up.

“They weren’t a match for us!”

“No, they weren’t.” Danny ruffles Robin’s hair, noticing how still he grew at it. “Robin was too fast for them. That maneuver at the end was masterfully executed.”

Batman clears his throat and Danny resists the urge to laugh at him. It would be mean.

“Thank you, for the… praise.”

Fuck it. He’s played well behaved for too long.

“Yes. I read in child rearing books that positive reinforcement is necessary for healthy development. You did well, Batman.”

Despite trolling Batman- and somehow holding a straight (and hopefully wise face)- he meant every word.

Allowing a small smile to slip at Robin’s chortles and Batman’s quiet sputtering, Danny moves on.

“Where is Nightwing, Batman?”

“He’s still on a mission...”

“If it is awkward to refer to me as Gotham, Phantom will do.”

Batman dips his head once. “In space, with the Teen Titans.”

“I see. Please tell him I request his presence,” Danny barely waits for Batman’s oddly acquiescing agreement before summoning a pigeon.

“Follow her,” Danny instructs the duo. “She’ll lead you to the places with explosives. I will guide you through her, to Harvey Dent.”

Danny winces as another explosion rings out.

“Your face is cracking!” Robin exclaimed, worried. He surged forward to stare at the hairline cracks appearing on Danny’s jaw.

“That would be the explosives. Any damage to the city will be shown on me.”

“Well take care of it.” Batman growled, shoulders straightening once more into an imposing symbol.

“Yeah!”

“I know you will. Stay safe.” Danny disappears, spreading his awareness and directing his Birds to the explosives that will go off the fastest.

Batman and Robin share a glance and leaps off the roof, ready to save their city once more.

——

Tim Drake wanders around Crime Alley, and meets a blonde nine year old trying to throw hands at her absentee Riddler knockoff of a dad. He dodges the brick en route to his face and kicks the guy’s knees out.

“You okay?”

The girl blinks. She stares at her dad, groaning on the dirty street of crime alley, and flicks her gaze back up to Tim, who waits casually.

“Yep. I’m Stephanie. We’re gonna be friends now!”

She grins at him, a baby tooth missing, and Danny melts.

“Heck yeah. Tim!” He introduces himself for the first time in a long time.

Maybe with Stephanie around, he’ll finally use the name Tim? Maybe he’ll get used to it, finally!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt.3)

JL very soon finds out there's no reasoning or controlling this particular brand of crazy. Amity, as they like to call themselves - 'Because saying Interdimensional Law Enforcement every time is long and ILE is boring', Dani explains to them - do whatever they want and deem necessary, and no one can stop them.

They have bargained with the US government to let their whole town stay for a week in Illinois like one would ask to stay in a hotel room. They have all but swiped all the tech shops in the nearby area, and somehow, they had real, actual money to pay for it, despite not even originating from this dimension. They claimed it was due to the Ghost - or God, the opinions were mixed - of Time making it work. They visited a bunch of people. Heroes, that was.

One memorable visit was one they paid to Flashes. Vlad, the mayor of Amity Park and unofficial leader of ILE, and Tucker, a kid with an insane knowledge on all and every kind of tech, performed a whole lecture to Flash family as well as their friends and colleagues, on importance of safety while time-traveling, the best ways to fix the timelines and even on upgrades to their costumes.

The other important visit was the one they paid to Diana, although that one was not so climactic - Jazz just gave her a bunch of letters and a card with a summoning sigil on it. 'It's for Pandora, she enjoys having a cup of tea with Themyskirians,' the redhead claimed.

Now, it was Batman's turn, it seems.

Danny was standing - more like floating - in front of Red Hood. They were at the Watchtower since Batman did not like Amity coming to Gotham. In his opinion, that would be just calling for trouble, and both Valerie - head of ILE security - and the records of other Batmans said he was not wrong.

"Yeah, this one's fucked up," Danny says after almost three minutes of looking straight at Hood, and the man huffs:

"Thanks, I got that part," he throws back, but Danny just laughs softly.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean it as you personally. Just, like, compared to the other Red Hoods I've met. At least you're not fucked up beyond reason, I can still help you," the ghost boy says cheerfully and claps his hands, "Ready to get rid of the boiling rage in your veins?"

And, before either Hood or Batman can say anything, he reaches his hands inside Jason, and the man tenses up, holding his breath. Batman hovers close - he's read about the same kind of procedure being performed by Danny on other versions of Jason in the files, but reading about it and witnessing it is two entirely different things.

Danny's hands start turning green. The same thing he did with the portal before happens again: glowing, Lazarus green flows up his hands, like veins outside his skin. Only this time, it's not as bright as the portal was. It's murky and dull.

A few seconds later, Danny slowly takes his hands out of Red Hood's chest, and Bruce is really glad he was standing so close because Jason all but falls down to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Batman holds him by the shoulder, keeping him up, but Danny shakes his head:

"No, he better sit down. He's probably gonna feel lightheaded for a few minutes. Oh, and catch," he throws something to Batman, which he catches on reflex. It's a weird, jello-like substance of dark, dirty green color, almost like a stress ball.

"What is it?" He asks, and Danny grins:

"A souvenir. That's his Pit Rage," he nods to Red Hood.

"My what?!" Jason snaps his head to the ball in Batman's hands.

"The parts that made it actual Rage. Think, like, an infection, or a parasite, or just- You know what, it's what you get when some crazy asshole bathes you in ghost sewers," Danny shrugs, completely disregarding the face expressions Batman and Red Hood are giving him. "Speaking of which, do you wanna come with us when we get rid of those Lazarus Pits of yours?"

There's a bit of silence, before Red Hood breathes out:

"Hell, yes."

-------------------------

I'll be writing another part with Amity getting rid of Ra's and Lazarus Pits, yeah. In the meantime, Sam is looking for Constantine to give him a slap on the hand because all the John Constantine's pieces of soul were like a massive jigsaw puzzle to her, considering there's more than one John Constantine and all of them can't stop selling their fucking souls even for a minute and Sam is so done.

Tucker and Tim are nerding out in WE with no sleep or food, Damian gets to play with Cujo, Kon is discussing clones' trials and tribulations with Dani, Jazz is giving Supes a long overdue lecture on how to treat clones, Dan is looking for someone to fight - so far he's found Captain Marvel but he knows he is just a kid so instead of actual fighting they are playing Mario Cart - Val is having fun with Arrows because sharp shooters gotta stick together, and Vlad had abandoned all of his responsibilities and is hiding in Lex Luthor's penthouse, discussing cat breeds and how annoying heroes can be.

Paulina made her way into Gotham without anyone noticing and befriended Harley and Sirens, so Batman may or may not find a particular clown dead when he comes back to his city. Dash is actually not up for trouble, so he is on duty in Amity Park, doing tours for all the curious people who got interested in ghost town and decided to visit. GIW agents are in the process of locating all the Pits, Maddie is elbow deep in a scientific discussion with Martian Manhunter, Jack is upgrading the Amity Ship with all the new tech he's got, and Cyborg is keeping watch on him.

Did I forget anyone? I most likely did.

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Tag list: @mae-mae-mae @okami-love @fantasticstoryteller @ultra-stormsaga

[gobbogoo]

"It's Been A While, Morgott"

To me, this moment of tenderness all but confirms that Godfrey must have visited his Omen children in their sewer prison.

Consider everything we know about Godfrey. He actively venerated the Crucible and its primal manifestations. His knights wore helms decorated with horns and utilized its animalistic magic:

Even after the Crucible fell from favour, these knights were tolerated right up until Godfrey was banished. Therefore Godfrey must have been preserving them even despite Marika's decrees. This makes sense, because Godfrey was born in the ancient era when the Crucible's wild power was considered a blessing, not a curse:

"A vestige of the crucible of primordial life. Born partially of devolution, it was considered a signifier of the divine in ancient times, but is now increasingly disdained as an impurity as civilization has advanced."

To Godfrey, his Omen sons would not have been something to revile. This is supported by the fact that their horns weren't excised. I doubt it was Marika's choice, since she had turned against the Crucible by then. It MUST have been at Godfrey's behest. Likewise, who else could have commissioned THIS?

A "memorial fetish fashioned in secret" that CLEARLY depicts Morgott. Someone CARED about this secret Omen infant. Enough to memorialize their their existence at the risk of the entire Golden Order. It literally ONLY could have been Godfrey.

Lastly, there's the circumstances of Godfrey's banishment. Most people say he was simply cast aside after he ran out of enemies to fight, but this CAN'T be all there was to it, because Raya Lucaria still existed. A FAR better explanation is that Godfrey began to show signs of disobedience. Godfrey was a man of instinct and emotion. Could such a man have sat idle while his children were imprisoned and his comrades reviled by the very order HE helped build?

No. And so Godfrey began to visit his Omen children in secret, where he told them stories of their lineage and their origins. In Morgott his stories instilled a Lord's sense of duty for the Erdtree and everything it could be.

In Mohg, his stories instilled an Omen's sense of pride for the Crucible, and everything it once was.

Until Marika learned of her husband's treachery, and the Omen Twins never saw their father again.

EDITED IN EXTRA OBSERVATION:

Someone pointed out that Serosh exists to channel Godfrey's emotions, and what's the first thing we hear/see when we approach Godfrey holding his son? Serosh roaring in anger. Beneath that kingly countenance, Godfrey is a lot more distraught than he's capable of showing.

[indulgentdaydream]

i LIVE for the nurse!reader work!!! i was wondering if you could do more nurse!reader where jason gets badly injured during patrol and she has to like stitch him up

OR

one where shes training as a family doctor and jason walks in on her comforting a little kid while she gives him an injection/shot?

either one is fine!

btw...YOUR WRITING IS SO COMFORTING

omg thank you!! I'm so happy my writing brings comfort to people. I usually use writing as a way to bring comfort to myself 😂

This can be read as both a stand alone and a sequel to Meet Cutes, my original Nurse!Reader work! It's not necessary to read Meet Cutes to read this

Comfort

Jason Todd x Nurse!Reader || Fluff Word Count: 2,014 Warnings: Blood, stitches, concussion, brief nod to Jason’s death by the mentioned date (April 27th)

2/6 fic of the line up! there was no way in hell i was getting them all out by his birthday I have no idea what I was on when I said that (pain killers. it was pain killers) (prescribed pain killers)

It was an unbearably hot night in Gotham. One that had Jason shucking his thick leather jacket off and fisting it in his hand as he stumbled through the alleyways.

Stupid Killer Croc. Stupid sewers. Stupid heat for making the sewers smell even worse. Stupid him for letting that oversized lizard get the jump on him.

Jason enters the clinic through the back door, as per usual. He didn’t need you getting caught up in vigilante problems just because people had seen him coming and going from this place.

The bright lights of the clinic have him flinching, his head pounding inside his helmet casing. He closes the door behind him by leaning against it. He hisses, pressing the fabric of his jacket to the bloody gash on his left shoulder blade. His armour had cracked off in a jagged line, leaving the flesh exposed. Killer Croc had used it as a nice place to sink one of his claws in when he picked Jason up off the disgusting sewer floor. It wasn’t bad. Fairly deep, but, as he usually told you, he’s had worse.

Usually, with injuries as simple as this, Jason would go to his nearest safe house and tend to it all himself. But, with this particular wound, he couldn’t reach around without his shoulder screaming in pain, nor without potentially giving himself the shittiest stitches known to man.

Best he could do for now is clamp his jacket to it with his right hand. Second best thing he could do was trip and stumble his way through Gotham, making wrong turns and headed in five different directions before he had picked the right one.

His head was stuffed with cotton. Maybe sewage. He wanted his helmet off, too suffocating for him in the moment, but he didn’t have his domino mask on.

Jason knew you were always the last one working. You would come in a few hours later than your other coworkers, just so you could keep the clinic open just that much longer for the unwilling victims of Gotham's nightly activities.

He wasn’t a part of those victims. Jason was one of the willing ones.

All in all, he admired you for your effort. A small star in a smog filled night sky. Brighter than what people realized.

Jason stepped towards your office door. It was open giving him a solid directory. His steel toes felt heavy on his feet. That’s what he’s blaming for the fact that he tripped over his own feet, his head swimming.

Jason fell against the door frame. His left shoulder hit the edge, pulling a deep groan of pain from him. He bumped into the door, sending it flying into the wall. He finally regained his balance, still leaning his head on the frame.

He faintly registered your gasp of surprise.

“Hood!" you cried, jumping up from your office chair, stepping closer, "What happened? What's wrong?"

Jason hated the way he gravitated towards you. He leaned into your touch when you grabbed a hold of his arm to steady him, to move him closer into the room.

This is weakness. He thought briefly through the thick fog surrounding him. Relying on some nurse. He should've never let himself get close to you. You don't even know his name. Or what his face looks like. But having you run to his aid with such a worried expression on your face is far too close to have you.

"Lay down. On your stomach."

Jason blinked. Your voice brought him back to the present, his head still spinning. He was sitting on the cot, pushed up against the wall. His jacket was hanging off the back of your office chair, bloody. The shoulder of his shirt cut off by your scissors, revealing part of his chest and back, too.

He doesn't remember any of that. Maybe he is in worse shape than he thought.

"Hood. Lay your ass down."

Jason followed your orders, "You have such graceful bedside manner, Nurse."

You scoff, already slipping your gloves on and dissinfecting yourself, ready to work.

You applied the stinging disinfectant to Jason's skin, making him suck in a sharp breath. The noise sounded odd, yet still recognizable through his voice modulator, "More like Nurse Ratched."

You pout, confused, "Who?"

Jason sighs, feeling his cheeks burn a little, "Nevermind..."

Your silent for a while, continuously threading the needle through Jason's skin as you pull it together.

"So..." you drawl out. "You gonna tell me how this happened?"

Jason was silent for another moment, "Mmmm... would if I could focus right now, sweetheart."

You paused on the last stitch, "Hm?"

He shifted his head lightly, peering at you through the corner of his vision, "What?"

You let out a breathy laugh, "I'm guessing you hit your head, too?"

Jason let out another robotic hum, "Got thrown into a wall."

"Did you now?" You step back from him, finished your work.

Jason nodded, "Lizard."

Stifling another laugh you started to clean up your tools, "You got thrown into the wall by... by a lizard?"

Jason didn't move, his speech a little slurred, "Fuckin' overgrown murder lizard..."

“Murder Lizard?”

He briefly waved a hand in dismissal, “Whatever his name is.”

“…Killer Croc?”

“…yeah. Him.”

You tapped his gloved hand, "Can you sit up and answer some more questions for me, Hood?"

Jason groaned as he pushed himself back up, moving slow. Once he was up, his head began to pound all over again. He reached up, pressed the release button under his jaw. A small hissing sound of the releasing pressure sounded.

He saw you stiffen, your eyes a little wide in shock, "What are you doing?"

“'s fine. I trust ya," He lifted the red helmet off until you were able to see his whole face. He remembered that not even a domino mask was hiding his eyes in the moment "'sides. It's too tight f'r me right now."

Jason believed he was a sight to see. All scars, disheveled hair, the yellowing bruise along the right side of hjs jaw from a few weeks ago, his crooked teeth and his crooked nose. Your eyes were wide, taking him in. He couldn't tell if it was in fear, shock, or awe. He was so much better at reading people, usually.

“I know,” a small smirk tugged at his lips, the right side of it staying lower due to the pain of his bruise, “Much more of an ugly mug then you were expecting, eh sweetheart?"

He saw you narrow your eyes. You didn’t like that comment. He could tell. What did he say? Nothing but his own truth.

…did I just fucking call you ‘sweetheart’?

A beam of light entered his vision.

He cringed back, "Ugh!"

You held up your small flashlight, switching it between Jason's eyes, "When were you born?"

Jason blinked rapidly, rubbing at his eyes now that you had pulled away the light. “April 27th,” he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. Fuck. That’s not it.”

You opened your drawer again and put the flashlight away, “You have a concussion.”

"No shit," His head was pounding to the point he could hear it in his ears.

"I'll let you go on two conditions."

Jason kept his eyes on you. He enjoyed the sight of your face much better than that agonizing light.

“First. Promise to rest up,” you gave him a pointed look.

Jason shrugged. He’d try.

“Promise.”

He groaned, “Fine. I promise.”

You looked pleased with yourself. He tried to push away the want to put that look on your face all the time.

“Second. Call somebody you know and trust to drive you home.”

He looked away from you. There was no one he trusted with that info. His safe house or this clinic. Or you.

“Fine,” you rolled away in your chair and pulled out a pen and paper. “Go get changed into some civilian clothes and I’ll call you a taxi.”

“You’re not payin’ for that,” Jason said quickly. His head hung low as his head pounded to the beat of his heart.

“That’s fine,” you pulled a roll of gauze from your drawer and stepped closer to him. “Do you have any Alieve or Tylenol at home?”

He barked out a laugh that ricocheted through his skull, “With how much I’m in here? Who do you think I am?”

You gave him a deadpan look. You began wrapping his shoulder and his stitches.

He gave a small smirk. He liked looking at your face. A nice sight for his sore eyes.

He blinked again. You were very close to him. His heart picked up in time with the throbbing of his skull.

He looked away, scowling.

Weakness.

“If I give you anything, I have to write down who I’m giving it to. It’s policy, I’ll need a name. Do you have alieve or tylenol at home Red?”

Jason let out a hum. He leaned forward pinched his nose bridge in thought again. Everything was fuzzy, “Maybe?”

“What name am I writing then?”

He didn’t even think to hesitate. He registered how that was a bad thing, but his concussion was stopping him from thinking properly. “Jason Todd.”

You let out a laugh right next to his ear.

He flinched, wincing at the sound, “What?”

“That’s the fakest name I’ve ever heard.”

It took him a second to register what you meant. That was his name. You were one of the few he had actually introduced himself to as himself in a while, and you didn’t believe it was his name.

You finished wrapping his bandages and stepped away. He found himself missing the warmth. “Mhmm. What address are you gonna give me now? 1234 Main Street?”

He scowled a little more than he already was. He felt his ears burn, “567 Main Street North.” It was one of his safe houses he was getting rid of soon. A place no one would find him by the end of the week.

You laughed again. It grated on his ears, but he was sure it’d be music without this concussion.

The rest of his visit was a bit of a blur. You told him to go change into civilian clothes. He remembers telling you it was fine, that he didn’t mind having the Red Hood be seen taking a taxi. You reminded him his shirt was half torn off. He put his armour back on and zipped up his jacket over top. You were calling a taxi by the time he had gotten his helmet back on.

The entire time he was trying to guess what your laugh sounded like normally. Surely he’s heard it before? Why couldn’t he remember?

Right. The concussion.

Red Hood was stepping out the door of your office when you called after him.

“Stay safe.”

He let out a small laugh, looking back over his shoulder at you, “Never do, sweetheart.”

You laughed too and he felt his ears burn again. He needed to shut up and stop letting that slip.

“That’s the third time you’ve called me that.” You crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair. “You must really be out of it.”

Jason frowned behind his helmet. He doesn’t remember three times.

…okay maybe two. But not three.

You gave a knowing smile, ignoring it, “You just have to make sure I always have my work cut out for me, don’t you?”

Jason smiled behind the helmet, “I like seeing you.”

He wanted to bash his head against that brick wall again. Especially when your grin got a little wider and his face got a little hotter.

“‘Kay, bye.” He walked out before you could respond.

Jason never did wait for the taxi. He left through the back door like always and made his trek back to the closest safe house. He clutched the box of tylenol he had stuffed in his pocket, feeling the tug of his stitches when he found his bike and revved the engine before peeling away into the night.

[wordslikesilver]

I swear I’m almost done being mentally ill about Elden Ring I promise but I never see anyone talk about Morgott’s heart wrenching death scene. It’s never overtly pointed out but please imagine the progression of events from his perspective. Lying on his back, staring up at the sky, defeated. He’s one of the ONLY bosses that leaves behind a corpse and it’s heart wrenching okay, it’s OBLITERATING. Because he’s lying there withered and broken, staring up at the golden boughs of the one thing in the world he loved, not the golden order, not the greater will, he loved the Erdtree and dedicated his ENTIRE life to it even though it never loved him back because not even a man as scorned as Morgott could live without love and the love was to keep his heart still beating in his chest when he felt most like a monster. He has spent his entire life keeping this crumbling kingdom together. For his mother, who hid him away so the world wouldn’t hurt him, for his father, the man who taught him how to bear the weight of a crown and stand taller than the ignoble origins you come from. And he was so alone. The only constant in his life being that golden tree that shone down into the sewers. He is the last of all kings. The horns about his brow weighed heavier than his crown.

And then the tree was burning. Lying broken on the ground, unable to truly die, his curse expelled from his body, he could only look up and watch the only thing he loved with all his heart burn down around him. The ashes falling like snow on his face. Can you imagine the heat? The resignation? The misery and the promise that if there’s ever a next time, he’ll do better, and if there isn’t then this shall be his final legacy and he’ll just have to accept that final truth before he dies. The self hatred washing over him and passing into quiet peace as he chooses to pass away together with it. Omens do not get reincarnated by the Erdtree. Loved and blessed by the crucible of life, they are not loved the same as all the rest of us. But that’s okay. For Morgott, that was okay. He would live nobly and die with honour in its service and that would be enough. He’d spend the last moments of his life bathed in the warm ashes of orange and grey, content that even if he never felt loved by anyone at all after being cursed and shunned all his life, he did his duty as best he could and finally repaid the debt he felt towards the tree that showed him the light for so many long, lonely years.

And then, then it makes me so fucking miserable because then a pair of gentle, scarred and terribly rough hands lift him up from the ground and cradle him with all the tenderness in the world. The roar of a lion salutes his passing, honouring him, mourning him. “It’s been a long time, Morgott.” No anger, no disappointment. Simply, sadness, that he could not see you sooner. Godfrey, his father, returned at last to hold him one final time as he passes away, the rune of death now unbound and finding its way to Morgott after all this time. His last memory would be of being held by his father, loved for all that he is in the ashes of all that he dedicated his life to. His body fades, his entire world upheaved one final time, and an easily missed detail in the cutscene is that Morgott’s body becomes a Grace that points towards you, the player, to guide his father to his next step along the path of Lordship. One final time, Godfrey is guided by the unyielding love he feels for one of his children. Fuck it makes me so miserable. How do write something so tragic and not spend more time with it? How do you leave that beauty hidden in the details like it’s not one of the greatest moments of the entire game? It’s so quiet it’s private, almost. Like we’re not supposed to see that side of either of them, being such an outsider. It’s sundering to think about. Annihilating. I love it with all my heart and I hope more people love Morgott too after reading this.

[scatterbrainedbot]

I AM SPINNING I AM PACING I AM FULL ON FROLICKING IM SO EXCITED

@d1sc0rd1a THANK U FOR THESE TAGS

okayokayokayokay so pretty much all of these questions will be Officially Answered properly in the character design/intro pages im working on but also i am physically vibrating with excitement about the fact that you noticed all these details and i have very little self control so! lore dump time!!!

(minor tw for mentions of leos self-harm/self-destructive anxious behaviors and unhealthy coping skills)

- mikey does indeed have curly fur! i believe he would be considered a 'rex' rat (pictured on the left) for this trait? though the curls can be more easily seen on mice (pictured on the right). or, at least it seems that way. have not delved too deeply into the details of rodent genes and husbandry, but id assume its the same sort of mutation considering curly haired mice are also referred to as rex sometimes? either way hes a extra floofy bby 🧡

-as for raphie, unfortunately being more fluff and less shell than the average rapheal comes with its downsides. especially if you and your brothers occasionally encounter things like territorial dogs, hungry cats, or sewer crocodiles while exploring places ur dad said not supposed to go. (most of his scars will have more ninja related stories, but his ear i think got messed up from something very animal. probably around age 11 ish? old enough to sneak out from dads protection but young enough to not fully know how to handle himself alone against real danger. thankfully his ear injury looks worse than it actually is for the most part, as the damage was largely to the outer ear. his hearing wasnt super affected, except that he now has a bit of a harder time being able to track/pinpoint noises origins if its on his right side.)

-also yep! dons got some glasses that just clip/rest on the bridge of his nose! theyre mostly just for home use, as they do fall off if hes knocked around. in the field he has some goggles he tends to use (theyre helpful as they have multiple additional functions like heat-imaging, extra zoom/telescoping, and recording capabilities. but also theyll give him headaches if he wears them for too long without breaks). contacts are theoretically also an option but he absolutely hates the sensation of putting them in. so sometimes when hes tired he'll just not bother with either clips or goggles and just squint and struggle. leo hates when he does that lol.

-speaking of leo, he is def an anxious baby :) he has a few patches of fur missing on his hand cos he has the tendency to tug on it while hes thinking. he yanked and chewed on his own tail a lot when he was younger too, which is why when hes older he usually wears some wraps to cover the scars left from that behavior. he finds those scars specifically to be kinda embarrassing and shameful because they werent from any battle or life-lesson, just his own 'inability to control himself'. all of his brothers have repeatedly called him out on the fact that that is not a healthy way to think about his anxiety or mental health, but leo insists hes fine. hes kinda convinced himself that a proper warrior always has control over his own body* and his own thoughts, thus he should be able to just like willpower-brute-force his way into 'being better'. (this line of thinking pisses raph off so much he has to leave and go hit something)

Splinter also tries to talk him through some of that internalized guilt/shame/everything, but splinters very metaphorical, poetic, and indirect when it comes to talking about Big Things, which combined with how much leo gets caught in his own head, makes it kinda hard to gauge how much these talks actually help

*this is made extra fun considering leos also ftm trans, so he is faced with a body that fundamentally disobeys him perhaps more than the average rat-man.

-and im still going back and forth between a few species for splinter, but im leaning mostly towards an African Spurred Tortoise! they have these beautiful if kinda subtle geometric shell patterns and are the third largest species of tortoise in the world. the only thing that doesnt fit perfectly with Splints is that (allegedly) their lifespan in captivity is around 50ish years, whereas im p sure Tortoise Splinter is well over 75, probably closer to 90 when the boys are born and hes mutated into Old Man Papa.

but maybe hes just a particularly long lasting African Spurred Tortoise.

the Hamato family has taken very good care of him for many decades after all. :)

(well. until everything all fell apart, that is.....)

[sad-leon]

Mmmmm angsty leo brainrot go brrr

Context:

Draxum took Leo during one of the fam's first adventures on the surface (8ish). He raised Leo as a warrior, training him with the portal sword. When he was 13, Leo felt confident enough to fight back and managed to get himself away from Draxum.

In his time with Draxum, Leo woundn't stop talking, complaining, joking, or pestering until Draxum snapped and nearly strangled him. He can still talk, but he chooses not to. He was trained (read:abused) constantly. He sustained plenty of leg injuries, leading to constant pain that braces barely help. On bad days, he can't walk at all. Most days, he uses his sword as a crutch.

The brothers meet April soon after Leo was taken. Donnie's the first to tell her about it as he's constantly looking for any signs of his twin. When they drop into the Hidden City, and end up in Draxum's lab, the Raph and Donnie go feral at the sight of the man that kidnapped their brother (they get even angrier when Draxum says Leo had run away. They don't believe him). April drags Mikey to the weapons room and grabs the weapons that seem to fit the others' fighting styles the best. April nabs the crystal in hopes it could help Donnie.

The brothers + April and Mayhem retreat when the lab is about to explode. They immediatly tell Splinter of Draxum's location. Splinter is too focused and the possibility of finding his baby blue, that he doesn't ridicule them too much for going down to the Hidden City.

Splinter and Donnie do as much research as possible to find out what Draxum could have done with Leo. It's only a day before the fam planned to go raid Draxum's destroyed lab when Donnie catches a suspicious figure portalling across the city, fighting off the mutants created by the Ooze-squitos. Donnie decides to go off on his own, having a gut feeling that the mystery person in important. Raph and Mikey follow close behind him.

For a year, Leo is out on his own. He stays away from the sewers, scared to face his family again. He hates he's become under Draxum (he does have innocent blood on his hands). He decides that until he can redeem himself, he'll stay hidden. When mutants start popping up in town, Leo is scared that Draxum had begun his plan to destroy the human race. Leo fights them and becomes sloppy at hiding himself.

He's nearly asleep in his hideout one night when he hears someone approach. He immediatly gets ready to fight until he freezes when he meets Donnie's eyes.

He panics and tries to portal away, but the panic disrupts his abilities and he ends up portaling directly into Raph and Mikey.

Do y'all want more of this au? I originally called it my villain Leo au, but I think Lonely Leo fits better..

[kedsandtubesocks]

your favorite kryptonite

Comic Bookstore Owner!Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

summary: you think it should be illegal for someone this hot to work at your favorite comics & fandom shop

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MDNI. non canon AU. Dieter as a big fandom nerd (affectionate), brief one sided annoyance to lovers, mentions and discussions of various medias including marvel, video games & anime/manga, light use of gendered language, moment of harassment from a creep, Dieter cosplaying surprise, spicy themes, reader wears Dieter’s robe but no physical description is mentioned, light drug use (marijuana), silly chaotic but sweet!Dieter

word count: 4.3k

a/n: So I’m back with another wacky AU LOL this is my love letter to all things wonderfully nerdy & to nerd Dieter who in my heart i believe is totally a Kakashi and Goku fanboy lol the biggest thanks go out to @perotovar & @burntheedges who helped championed this and gave me the power up strength to continue, so grateful for y’all babes! And to you reading this thank you so much ♡

The new mecha anime figurines immediately draw your attention. Their sharp beautiful sleek designs stand impressively and although you might not be a huge fan you admire the striking style.

You’ve been coming to Atomic Planet Shop since your best friend dragged you here in high school years ago. Containing a wide range of things like a whole area to flip through comics, to a wall of Japanese manga - it’s a nerd’s paradise.

Currently you search for a birthday gift to get your best friend and maybe snag a treat for yourself.

“Oh, a fan of Gundam I see.” An eager and new voice calls from behind.

Turning back you discover someone slinking out from behind the register. Normally Raymond, the sweet older man who runs the store, would be here. But now someone new stands in his place and you’re stunned.

The guy emerging from behind the counter is gorgeous.

Scruffy beard, fluffy hair, wearing earrings and rings on his hand, he’s hot. The shirt he wears says “Wolverine Call Me” in a heart shape. His deep chocolate even eyes seem to dance curiously.

“Uh, just looking.” You politely reply.

“Whatcha looking for?”

You explain how you’re here looking for a birthday gift for your friend.

“Oh nice.” He nods appreciatively.

While you’re turned, giving this new worker your attrition, you finally notice the glass shelf behind the register.

Your eyes go wide fast at what you spot.

“Is that a new Stardew Valley cookbook?” You can’t even process the words, you’re still in awe at the sight. Precious little drawings fill the space to show familiar dishes, like pink cake and lucky lunch, from the game. It’s gorgeous and so unique.

“Oh hell yeah, you a fan?” The mystery man exclaims. “You know we have a whole little-”

“Video game section off to the side. Yeah.” You warmly cut him off.

Originally the store had been very comics and graphic novel focused. However over the years it’s evolved to add more fandom-like elements and now there’s even a small but impressive video game focused area.

A sweetly surprised look falls over the guy’s face and it paints him utterly charming.

“So who’s your go-to spouse in SDV?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

You tell him and he nods sagely.

“I always go for Krobus. Gotta respect our cute sewer dweller.” He says.

While you laugh a flutter scurries across your heart.

A ring at the door chimes in breaking your sweet conversation and a cluster of guys walk into the store.

“Guess I’ll get back to birthday gift hunting.” You smile at the cute worker then return to the comic stacks.

Flipping through the different series and passing through many fun options, you catch the conversation off to the side.

The pack of young guys that walked in seem to know the cute worker and snicker with him about something.

“Oh yeah man, so I was rewatching Endgame the other day and the part where Scarlet Witch goes one on one with Thanos? Unrealistic!” One of them cackles and you pause.

Did they not even see or know about how powerful she’s confirmed to be in the other MCU projects? Even then, in the comics Scarlet Witch flat out changes the trajectory of reality. If anything Thanos is only strong because he got lucky.

But you hold your tongue and continue scanning through the comics.

These guys are probably just punk ass kids. You don’t want to waste your energy on these guys who probably also hate on other characters like Shuri and Carol Danvers.

Now the cute store worker scoffs amused but doesn’t correct them. Your face scrunches up.

You thought he was charming, maybe a bit eccentric, like a 90’s vibrant Lisa Frank vibe. Yet now your skin crawls just a little bit thinking he might be one of those unfortunately toxic gatekeeping jackass guys.

You decide to leave now. You still had time to look for a birthday gift for your best friend. So you’ll just come back later. Without a second glance to the cute worker, you slip out and wonder about maybe checking out another store.

Of course, you’re too tired to actively look for another store. The next time you return to Atomic Planet, you pray Raymond is there.

You’re excited and almost relieved to see the familiar eccentric older man smiling toothy at you from behind the counter.

“Well, you’re a wonderful sight for sore eyes!” He greets you and happily you catch up and chat with him.

Suddenly a chaotic bang clamors in. The handsome worker from last time tumbles out from the back room into the front as if he tried to rush over.

“Dieter man, what’s the rush?” Raymond laughs.

Dieter. So that’s his name.

The guy, Dieter, this time wears a Naruto shirt under a sleepy and cozy green robe. His hair is still fluffy and you don’t miss how wide eyes stare at you.

“Hey.” You politely but curtly reply.

“Hi.” Dieter waves and you hate how cute he looks.

“By the annoyed look on your face, I take it you’ve met this new headache.” Raymond chuckles and embarrassment rams into you knowing your annoyance is that obvious.

“Don’t worry, he’s harmless.” Raymond waves. “He cries when he watches My Neighbor Totoro.”

“Hey what the fuck!” Dieter cries and you press your lips together trying not to laugh.

“Just ignore him, honey.” Raymond winks and you grin wide.

After thanking him, you head back to the birthday gift search. Searching now through the manga selection you notice something moves by the corner of your eye.

Turning to the side, a large Totoro plushie floats beside you obviously being held up.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” A high pitch tone acting as the adorable creature's voice speaks out and your lips twitch.

From the side Dieter pops his head out.

His hair, rivaling a bird's nest, creates a cloud around him and his wide doe-like eyes peeking out are so hard to be fully annoyed at.

“You know,” he now fully speaks in his voice, moving to hold the large adorable plushie in his arms. “Never got your name.”

“You have my full permission to beat his ass if you need to, dear.” Raymond yells dully from the cash register and Dieter squawks horrified.

You laugh bright. Turning to the side you see Dieter already holds his hand out. The half crooked grin on his face paints him so boyish.

“Name’s Dieter.”

You shake his hand, finally giving him your name.

“So, do you really think Scarlet Witch can’t take on Thanos?” You offer light.

Dieter sighs loud. “I knew those guys and what we were talking about might’ve pissed you off.”

So he was watching you. That brings in a curious warmth that courses through you.

“Well I do apologize.” He bows his head a bit. You at least appreciate that.

“I bet those guys are the same ones that don’t like Carol Danvers either or even know that Squirrel Girl defeated Thanos.” You add a bit snippy.

“You know your shit, I like that.” Dieter replies proud and the way his voice drips out smooth does something dangerous to your heart.

You shrug but fight off the smug grin threatening to mirror his.

“Maybe you need to go Gandalf on my ass and teach me a thing or two, like maybe over coffee?” Dieter offers and you’re knocked out.

So he feels this spark, chemistry or whatever it is, between you too.

“Maybe,” you reply back with a grin. “For now I gotta get back to gift shopping.”

“You still haven’t found your friend a gift?! Geeze, what kind of bestie are you?!” He cries out teasing and you roll your eyes.

It’s getting harder staying annoyed with him and not taking up his offer to get coffee.

You eventually decide on a comic art book for your friend and then spot the assorted mystery box trinkets to maybe snag a few for her and even for yourself.

“I know everyone says Goku would beat the fuck out of Thanos, but you know who else would too without breaking a sweat?” Dieter’s voice again arrives at your side. He’s rather persistent, your cute, slightly not so annoying gnat.

“Sailor Moon.” He answers himself sagely.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You snicker amused.

He practically beams besides you when you agree.

You ask if he’s a fan.

“Oh hell yeah! Sailor Venus is my fav.” Dieter cries. “I can sing the entire song theme opening for you if you’d like. Not to brag, but that and the second Naruto theme opening are my go to karaoke songs.”

You laugh, feeling it deep into your bones. He’s chaotic, but unbearably endearing.

In a blink, a rush comes in all at once. The fun sweet bubble you had been cultivating deflates and you hate how disappointed you get seeing Dieter scramble to try and work.

When you go check out, you’re surprised he’s the one at your register.

Even though he’s focused on working you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker up to you shyly but with a confident smirk. He turns to fully gift wrap the items knowing they’re going to be a present and you thank him for that.

When you grab your bag he gives you a smooth wink and you playfully glare at him.

Later at home, when you unpack everything, you find an extra surprise in the bag.

It’s a small box of strawberry pocky snacks you know you didn’t buy.

There’s a sticky note attached to it.

A sweet treat for a sweet customer! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ ♡)

Call me if you ever wanna get coffee or just talk nerd shit and make me absolutely fall even harder for you

Underneath the message, he left you his number and you can’t believe it. After squealing about it with a few of your friends, you text him.

Dieter replies back quick with the funniest excited cat reaction meme and you realize you might be in the best kind of trouble with this guy.

— . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.—

You didn’t expect the convention to be this crowded. Chatter fills the air as cosplayers move all around.

The booths stretch endless with countless tempting merch.

Your best friend tried to get you to plan a fun cosplay with her. However neither you or her could decide on what to pick in time. Now you're gladly comfortable in an everyday outfit and simply allow yourself to be in awe at the intricate lovely costumes.

While scanning the convention and taking in the beautifully controlled chaos in, you also hope to catch sight of someone in particular.

“Dude, stop trying to look for your hot nerd boyfriend.” Your best friend snorts and your heart trips over itself.

Embarrassed, you chide her and remind her that Dieter isn’t your boyfriend.

“Oh yeah because texting a guy everyday for the past month and going to cute cat cafes with him isn't dating.” She deadpans with a smirk.

You playfully glare at her.

It’s not official and you don’t want to rush whatever this is with Dieter. You haven’t even been to his place yet. You don’t mind though. You’ve just been enjoying getting to know him more.

You learn Dieter’s favorite video game is Hollow Knight and his favorite anime is Neon Genesis Evangelion.

His favorite comic book villain of all time is the Condiment King.

Matcha flavored Kit Kats have become his newest obsession session.

He saw all the Lord of the Rings movies in theater and can practically quote The Two Towers. Still has the comic book his best friend in middle school gave to him. Also refuses to let any of his Animal Crossing villagers leave because he’s so attached to them.

Dieter had made you laugh more than you can count, but he can be a bit ridiculous.

Like when he called you after he got off a late closing night shift to ask if Pacific Rim was real did you think the Kaiju monsters would maybe stop attacking if they found out how much he loves them.

Dieter does have his headache moments, but he’s an endearing kaleidoscope of a soul.

Earlier this week when you visited him at the shop, he said he was going to be here at the conversation. But with how bad the convention center’s wifi is, you haven’t been able to contact him.

“He even said he was coming in cosplay just for today right? Any ideas what he’s showing up as?” Your best friend wiggles her eyes while you and her stroll down an artist alley.

“No!” You huff still upset. “He said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

While you appreciate him wanting to wait for a dramatic reveal, you wanted to know what his outfit was from the minute he told you.

You wanted to maybe try dedicatedly searching for him, but you get completely enthralled by the mass amounts of merchandise delightfully distracting you.

You spot incredible fan art pieces, adorable handmade keychains, and very expensive but beautiful figurines.

It’s like a mini wonderland.

Checking out the cute earrings at the stall you’re at, you lose sight of your best friend. When you turn to excitedly talk with her, that’s when you spot it.

She’s a few steps away, very politely trying to inch away from a guy, dressed in a Deadpool suit without the mask on. He’s talking way too aggressively and getting way too close to your friend.

Immediately you rush over and happily jump in.

“I gotta show you this!” You thankfully have the best excuse to pull her away.

But the guy only takes it as an opening to instead follow you both now.

“Just ignore him.” Your best friend whispers to you.

You and her continue to stare at the jewelry. Yet the guy remains. He continues his discussion and seems to get upset that you or your friend aren’t replying. It’s creepy and persistent especially with how he refuses to budge or take the hint.

You try lightly deflating the situation by apologizing and saying you and your friend just want to enjoy shopping.

“Oh, is shopping all you two came here for? You know, you fucking losers aren’t even in cosplay. Fake ass fans.”

Now he gets really aggressive.

The air and tension shift. The poor cute shop owner in her adorable R2D2 dress even reacts getting upset.

“Look, we just wanna enjoy the con.” Your best friend replies sharp with a hard scowl.

“What in the fantastic fuck do we have here?”

Suddenly Dieter’s voice rings out excited and bright and you almost sob.

You whip your face around to spot him.

Except it is and isn’t him.

His hair is slicked back, gelled and curled. Thick gray colored hairs line his temples. It even looks like he shaved a bit.

He’s dressed as Reed Richards, Mr. Fantastic himself.

The outfit looks based on the classic 1960’s first comic book released aesthetic and it compliments Dieter’s frame gorgeously. His shoulders look unbelievably broad and his even arms seemed bigger in the tight soft baby blue material. You’ve never seen him in something so form fitting and it has your throat drying up.

You’ve even momentarily forgotten about the guy bothering you and your best friend.

“You bothering these two, ya fucking creep?” Dieter says with a nudge of his chin.

It’s hot as fuck.

The guy stunned gapes like a fish and stammers, but no words come out.

“Beat it before I shove a lightsaber up your ass.” Dieter replies bored, but it adds a sense of deadliness to his words.

The Deadpool cosplayer turns on his heels and immediately scrambles away. Your knees almost buckle overwhelmed.

Your best friend and even the stall owner cry out wildly excited in a bright neon awe of Dieter. You swallow back a sob as you turn to embrace him. His warm large hands pat you comfortingly.

“You saved us.” You teasingly sob, but truthfully you know he did.

“I’d been looking for you for a hot minute and was about to make some sort of raptor call noise to get your attention until I saw that shit going down.” Dieter explains.

“What a hero.” Your friend jokingly adds, but you hear it in her voice how grateful she is.

Dieter snickers.

“Guess you could almost say I was fantastic… mister fantast-”

You cut Dieter off with a quick kiss to his cheek before he can make the pun and your friend along with the stall owner laugh.

Gingerly, almost tentatively you move to intertwine your hand with his. He reacts immediately pulling you to his side.

For the rest of the convention Dieter stays besides you, walking hand in hand with you.

Even when you arrive at the booth for Atomic Planet, the real reason why Dieter was here to help work, Raymond waves him away saying to enjoy the convention with you.

Your heart flutters and Dieter squeezes your hand excitedly.

The rest of the time is a blissful geeked out dream. Dieter buys you a few keychains, even treats you and your best friend to a bite to eat.

You came to the convention with your best friend…

But you leave with Dieter.

Especially when your best friend urges you to go home with him and enjoy his hot cosplay.

You give her a look when she cheekily tells you that, but she isn’t wrong. Even when you grabbed the quick bite before the night ended, it was hard trying to ignore the amount of people turning to stare at Dieter with wide curious eyes.

And a little twinge of something faintly possessive bubbles in you.

That’s why when you slide into the passenger seat of his car, your heart drums loudly in your ears trying to fight against the urge to just suck his cock right here in the car.

“So uh…” Dieter begins cautiously and even a bit bashfully. “I don’t wanna sound too aggressive and you can tell me no, but can I kiss you-”

You don’t even let him finish before you’re sliding over the seat to him.

He scrambles and immediately pulls you close as his lips become a magnet to yours.

This is the first time you’re really truly kissing Dieter. You’ve kissed him gently good night before. He’s been cute with leaving kisses to your cheek or even against the back of your head like a Victorian gentleman. But now it’s a raw unraveling getting to tasting him from the source so greedy.

You won’t dare admit it outloud, but the soft feel of his lips, the scrape of his jaw, the smell of his delicious cologne, and how warm he consumes you -

It’s pretty fantastic.

— . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.—

Dieter’s room is a treasure trove.

Framed posters of Pacific Rim, AKIRA, The Iron Giant, and the original Pokemon Kanto generation line the walls. His bookshelf is filled not just with comic books and manga, but various impressive graphic novels.

A mock infinity gauntlet sits beside his television. So many anime figurines, including a really nice Goku one, stand protecting his reading collection.

What surprises you is his expansive and sleek gaming corner which includes a striking computer set up.

“You look hot as fuck standing in my robe and knowing I just came in you a few hours ago is even hotter.” Dieter says from his bed in the most sinful but half groggily asleep voice.

You smirk and continue to soak in his room.

“So do you get good discounts from the store?” You ask.

“Yeah, but it also helps that I co-own it.” Dieter casually tells you. You hear him shifting among the seats then catch the flicker of the lighter igniting.

However your eyes go wide realizing what he said and you whip back around to him.

“Wait?! You co-own the shop?”

“Well yeah, Raymond, that old fuck, is my uncle.” Dieter coughs out as he exhales from the hit he took off his weed pipe.

Dieter even explains how, because his uncle is starting to get a bit older, he decided to step in to help run the place.

“Besides, how else could I show off my extensive knowledge of elvish language other than at the shop?” He says proudly.

How did you just now learn this?

Dieter reminds you of a rubik cube you think you’ve finally figured out, think you found a groove for - until one out of the corners a jack in the box pops out.

Before you can even ask him about the shop or about his uncle, Dieter’s phone goes off.

The loud ringtone sings into the room and your eyes go wide hearing it. Dieter checks who’s calling then denies the call muttering out about how spam scam callers need to be fed to a sarlacc pit.

“Wait…is Cascada’s ‘Everytime We Touch’ actually your ringtone?” You ask, still not believing it.

“Fuck yeah it is, baby! That song is untouchable!” He cries and you can’t help but laugh.

Dieter smirks then pats the open spot on the bed where you had been resting before. Sliding back into the warmth with him, he gently pulls your face to him and kisses you softly.

The taste of the smoke lingers on his lips, but it’s still him beneath it all. You eventually wind up in his arms, cozy and warm in his embrace.

“I noticed the nice audio and mic setup.” You comment while his fingers draw aimlessly against your skin. “You trying to maybe go the YouTuber route?”

“Nah. Maybe. Who knows.” He shrugs. “It’s mainly for something else.”

Now his voice grows a bit distant.

You gently ask him what that something else is and Dieter fidgets

“Don’t… don’t laugh okay.” He mumbles adorably.

You reassure him earnestly you won’t.

He sighs.

“So I’ve been wanting to get into voice acting work.” Dieter reveals with a mutter, even sounding a bit embarrassed

However, you perk up so bright. Turning in his arms you eagerly smile at him.

“Di, that sounds amazing!” You mean those words.

You can’t help but ramble about how great he would be for that. He has the personality for it and he’s told you how he’s done some stage acting work. Plus, it just fits him. You think of all the silly voices he does and you hope now he can make this path a reality.

Dieter’s handsome face falls a bit and you stop. You wonder if you’ve scared him off, or maybe he thinks you’re possibly making fun of him.

You’re about to apologize when Dieter swiftly moves to kiss you feral and fierce. His tongue slides into your mouth with a moan you greedily swallow.

The conversation is put on pause when his hands slide up your thighs, straight to your core, and you fall apart with him once again.

Basking in the afterglow you rest against his chest now feeling sleepy, not even knowing what time it is. You realize being with Dieter is like existing in a realm a bit separated from reality sometimes and it’s beautiful.

“I don’t wanna be that lame guy,” Dieter begins. “But shit, I already really really kind of like you a fucking lot.”

Your lips fight back a smile you can’t beat. You turn to bury your face against his warm bared chest.

“I really kinda like you a lot too.” You admit.

“That’s unfortunate.” He replies and you snort.

“It’s okay. I only want the good discount on merch at the shop.” You reply cheekily.

“Aw! You don’t even want me for my body? Just my discount?!” He cries hurt and even jokingly moves to shove you off.

“Well.” Then he pauses. “Guess I could call my dick a discount, but then again… there isn’t anything short about that-”

You cut him off with an eye roll and he snickers wildly amused.

His fingers move to tickle you, to corrupt you into his same fit of giggles and you wheezing trying to squirm away from him.

Dieter’s hands eventually snake around you and draw you back into his chest. You melt against him willingly and even sigh comforted.

“Next time if we go to a convention, if you feel comfortable with it, you should cosplay.” He comments.

You admit that you’ve thought about it and list a few ideas you’ve had. But mainly, your mind thinks about the different outfits Dieter could go as.

The thought of him now as Doctor Doom instead of the heroic Reed Richards is a glorious thought.

But of course there’s so many other incredible options.

Dieter as Harvey or even Marlon from Stardew Valley.

Even a few anime characters that would fit him so well come to mind.

Specifically Kishibe from the series Chainsaw Man, with his striking cut across his mouth and incredibly lazy hot older demeanor, just fits Dieter so well it stirs something in you again.

“Maybe next con,” Dieter offers and pulls you from your thoughts. “I’m thinking about going as Tuxedo Mask. Do you wanna be my Sailor Moon?”

A couples matching outfit.

You didn’t even think of that. That’s what he was nudging towards.

You didn’t even think of that. But just getting to be beside him is something sweetly moving.

Then thinking about him in the sleek tuxedo outfit, in the white mask, is a dangerous thought you already ache to maybe see come true.

“We’ll see.” You hum with a smile, but when you go to kiss him it feels like a gilded warm promise.

“Never mind. I want us to go as Undertale characters and I wanna be Sans.” Dieter says suddenly and you snort against his shoulder.

This time spent with him, and the promise of maybe something more, is sweet starlit bliss.

[junkdrawerfics]

What's Imprinting?

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: You are a wolf shift, except you have no clue what that is. During your search for someone like you, someone who can explain what's happening, you run into a certain vampire and you, what did he call it? You imprint on him apparently!

Word Count: 2037

Note: So this plays with the idea that there are other wolf shifters besides the Quileute tribe, mainly because I am not Native American and don't feel comfortable writing a reader that explicitly is. No origin is stated, so it's open to all.

---

When you first shifted, every facet of your reality shifted with you. 

Suddenly, things you thought were just stories became disturbingly real. Every monster. Every myth. You couldn’t rule any of them out, not when you could turn into a massive wolf and run faster than a car.

The worst part was not knowing why. And you couldn’t ask just anyone.

So you left. There had to be someone who could explain why this happened to you. Someone like you. Somewhere. Finding them turns out to be harder than you think though, because, like you, someone who can turn into a wolf doesn’t exactly want the world to know about them.

So now, after a year of searching, you’re in Washington. On the brink of giving up.

Letting out a low huff, you drop yourself onto the edge of the cliff, staring down at the waves below you. The dark water crashes against the rocks, as if it’s trying to rip the cliff away, mist spraying high into the air. The salty smell of the ocean drifts up on the soft breeze. You take a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of the lingering city scent.

Seattle proved fruitless. Not that you were really expecting much. What kind of wolf would stay in a place so gross? Every city block brought a new scent. Garbage, grease, smog, sewer. Just like every other city you’ve been to. Even if there was another wolf there, you’d never be able to catch their scent in all of that.

“I swear, if I end up smelling like that city for the next week,” you grumble to yourself, nose scrunching at the thought.

“I don’t think you smell all that bad.”

You freeze.

Someone’s behind you?

Every muscle in your body goes taut as a scent suddenly sweeps over you. It’s like walking into a candy shop, so sickeningly sweet and heady, it makes your head spin. Your wolf snarls to the surface, jaws snapping, hackles bristling. Screaming at you to run.

Fear creeps up your spine.

But then it just…disappears.

Everything falls still. Your mind, the anxiety pulsing through your veins, even your wolf. The strange sense of calm that floods through you covers it all like a heavy fog. But it’s not you. It’s not you.

“What are you doing to me?” You breathe out shakily, fingers digging into the stone under you.

“Just stay calm.” It’s a man, his voice deep and soothing, rolling with a southern accent that would be charming under different circumstances.

But right now, you’re just focused on the way your panic keeps being taken away. You can’t even feel frustrated about it without that being covered too.

“You don’t seem to be giving me an option,” you growl. It has to be him. Nothing else could explain it. What is he? How is he doing this?

“I can answer all your questions if you just give me-”

“Stop it!” You flip around, lips pulled back in a snarl, ready to phase and snap this guy’s head off.

Until your eyes meet a pair of honey gold ones.

The whole world seems to slow down, all except your heart, because the man in front of you is possibly the most beautiful person you’ve ever set eyes on. He’s tall and lean, with a face that looks like it’s been carved from marble. And his smile. It slants his mouth in an adorably boyish way.

Your eyes trail down the pale curve of his neck, across his broad shoulders, down his arms. That’s when you notice countless scars littering his pale skin. Like a match striking stone, rage flares to life in you, so sharp and sudden you have to clench your eyes shut to stop yourself from phasing. 

How could someone do that to him? You’ll kill them. All of them. You’ll hunt them down and-

Wait.

Eyes flickering back open, wide now as you look back at the blond and his strikingly gold eyes, you can’t help but shrink back. What was that? What is this feeling? A deep ache starts in your chest, only growing worse when you put more distance between you. Like you want to be close to him. Like everything you’ve done up until this moment doesn’t matter, and all you want is to just press into him and learn everything about him and protect him.

The man keeps his eyes trained on you, brow creasing when you let out a strangled, confused whine. He takes a step forward, hand reaching out for you, but stops in his tracks when you flinch.

“Are you doing this too?” You demand, practically toeing the edge of the cliff now.

“No.”

As if his words carry magic, your struggling panic eases. You take a deep breath, easing away from the cliff and closer to the handsome stranger. A smile pulls at his lips again, all soft and kind and tempting. For a split second, you wonder what it would feel like to kiss hi-

“Why do I feel this way then?” You wrap your arms around yourself, unnerved by the sudden desires burning under your skin.

The blond raises a confused brow, “I believe you wolves call it ‘imprinting’.”

Imprinting? What on earth does that me-

Your eyes blow wide, voice shrill, “Wolves?”

The man nods. He knows. How does he know? And why doesn’t it bother you that he knows?

You expect the panic to come back, or your wolf to go crazy, but nothing. And it’s not him this time. Instead of any of that, you almost feel…relieved. There’s no need to hide. You don’t want to hide.

 You look at the man again. He should be threatening. Tall stature, lean muscles, and all those scars. But when you look at him, all you feel is the need to be closer. You look at him and you feel safe for the first time in years. Is this what imprinting is?

“Who are you?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

“My name’s Jasper Whitlock,” he hums, inching closer. You don’t back away.

“How do you know I’m…?”

The blond - Jasper - chuckles, the sound warm and rough, “Your kind has a particular scent, easy to recognize. Though yours isn’t that bad.”

Brow furrowing, you have to resist the urge to sniff your clothes, “You can…smell me?”

“Vampires have keen senses.”

Vampires. He’s a vampire. Of course he’s a vampire. Pale skin. Unusually colored eyes. The scent, which has changed since you first caught it. It’s softer somehow, still sweet, but more like caramel and dark chocolate. Addictive.

“So you, you um, and I, okay.” You drop to the ground abruptly, legs folding under you. Your head is spinning with all the new information. “So you’re a vampire?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement as he sits himself a couple feet away from you.

“And you know I’m a werewolf.” A nod. “What is - What did you call it? - Imprinting?”

“You don’t know?” You hunch your shoulders, cheeks growing warm under his curious gaze. Jasper frowns, “I suppose you wouldn’t. My understandin’ is that when your kind imprints, it’s like…findin’ your soulmate.”

Soulmate. That’s…big. It seems life just can’t stop throwing curveballs at you. First the wolf thing, now you learn you have a soulmate. A vampire soulmate. Who looks like a Greek sculpture. While you must look like a mess.

“I can’t believe this,” you grumble, mostly to yourself, but Jasper still hears you if his amused smile is anything to go on. “All I’ve been looking for is another wolf to explain what on Earth is happening to me and instead I find my soulmate, who’s a vampire. I thought werewolves and vampires hated each other? That’s what all the books say!”

“Most humans enjoy exaggerating the details,” Jasper drawls, “Though this is certainly unusual.”

You pout. How are you supposed to react to all of this? On one hand, it’s completely crazy. On the other, he could be the answer to everything you’ve been searching for. He knows what you are, maybe he knows why! Or maybe-

“Do you know other wolves?” You practically jump at him, hope soaring in your chest.

Jasper freezes. His gold eyes go wide, trailing down your arm. Cocking your head in confusion, you follow his gaze. Your eyes go just as wide as his at the sight.

Unbeknownst to you, you grabbed onto his hand, your fingers awkwardly interlacing with his. His skin is cold to the touch, but you feel overwhelmingly hot as your embarrassment skyrockets. You should let go. The man is still a stranger. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. Touching him feels…right. Taking a deep breath, you look back up to his face hesitantly.

The shock is gone, replaced with a look of awe. Jasper slowly shifts his hand, fitting them together more comfortably. Your skin tingles with each touch, your heart dancing wildly in your chest. His eyes dart back up to yours, and the warmth there makes your breath stutter.

“I was worried I wouldn’t be able to handle bein’ around you,'' he breathes, the low hum of his voice quickly becoming your favorite song. You could listen to him for hours and never get bored. “I wanted this to be perfect. I’ve been waitin’ a long while for you-”

“(Y/n),” you supply without thinking.

Jasper smiles softly, repeating it to himself, “(Y/n)...”

And just like that, you find yourself falling for the vampire. Jasper Whitlock. The golden light that came into your life when you were so close to giving up. 

You sit on that cliff for hours, asking countless questions. Jasper answers each and every one of them, the best he can at least. You learn about his family, how they’re different from other vampires and don’t harm humans, a fact that brings you more relief than you expected. He tells you about Alice and her visions, the one she had of you, and his years waiting for you.

You, in turn, tell him about your life as a human. Your small town, your family, and how much you miss them. You recount when you first phased and how you’ve been searching for someone to explain it all. For him.

It’s only when the sun starts to set, painting the sky in dreamy shades of pink and purple, that your conversation trails off into a comfortable silence. You look out across the water, thoughts drifting to your still intertwined fingers. You don’t have the heart to let go, and Jasper seems more than pleased to hold on to you.

“So,” you hesitate. The words stick to your tongue despite how desperately you want to ask them. As if sensing this, Jasper squeezes your hand softly, a silent encouragement. You gather every bit of your remaining confidence, all to ask, “What now?”

He hums and traces his thumb over your knuckles thoughtfully, tenderly, “What do you want to happen, darlin’?”

You don’t have to think about it. The words tumble from your lips readily, “I want to be with you.”

And the smile he gives you is all you need to know you’ve made the right choice. It lights up his whole face, and for a moment, you swear his eyes seem to glow. And, just as you think he can’t look more beautiful, the last few rays of sunlight streak across the cliff, reflecting off his skin like diamonds, surrounding him with an angelic haze. It steals your breath away.

How absolutely gorgeous.

“I think that can be arranged,” Jasper replies, drawing you from your stupor. 

“Good, cause you’re officially stuck with me,” you chirp and lean into his side.

Jasper slips his hand out from yours, leaving you feeling horribly empty, until his arm wraps securely around your shoulders to draw you even closer. The gesture sends pure elation buzzing through your whole body. If you were in wolf form, your tail would be wagging like a tornado. You curl into him, hiding your own smile in his sweater.

When you first phased, you never imagined this is where you would end up.

Maybe fate wasn’t too cruel, after all.

---

Might have a part 2 for this, because I have a funny idea for when they team up with the wolves in Eclipse.

I hope you guys enjoyed it!

[froot-batty]

(most of) The sewer squad!

Surprisingly, Clay and Croc were super fun for me to color. Rat was the one that kicked my ass this time

(P.S. sorry about the lore being so long down there)

Waylon Jones was originally born in Louisiana. He was born into a relatively low income but very big, very loving family. He was also born with Epidermolytic Ichthyosis, which caused patches of his skin to blister or thicken, sort of like scales. This would be the first thing he'd be bullied for as a child, and it would only grow worse as he went through school and his undiagnosed ADHD and dyslexia would make it ten times harder for him. He would eventually decide to drop out of school, both because of his learning difficulties and the bullying.

One thing Waylon had always loved was boxing. His father had taught him and all of his siblings the basics of boxing, and Waylon was one of the ones who really took a shining to it. It helped that he was a naturally bulky guy who could put on muscle pretty easily. So now that he was out of school, he decided to put his free time towards participating in amateur boxing matches. It didn't rake in very much money, and usually took place in some guy's backyard or a junkyard, but he thought it was a lot of fun - and, most of all, he was good at it.

He made the choice to move to Gotham after he'd collected enough money to start a life somewhere else. He loved his family, and it hurt to move away from them, but a big city like Gotham provided more opportunity than backyard brawling. And indeed, it did! He graduated from probably illegal homemade boxing matches to actual, professional matches - still nothing above amateur, but it was something, and it made a lot more money!

It was during this time when he'd gain the nickname Killer Croc, from a combination of his skin condition, how big he was, and where he'd been born. (He didn't actually kill anyone though, he was a sweetie. He's just killer at boxing).

Things started going downhill for him when he finally won enough matches to go up against another relatively popular name in the amateur boxing league. This opponent, not wanting to lose against what was still a fresh face in Gotham, conspired to cheat in order to win. Because it's Gotham, and anyone can be made to look the other way, no one caught the man as he mixed plaster of Paris with his hand wraps (which hardens into something similar to concrete) before the match.

Safe to say, Waylon lost the fight pretty badly. While he would have been a good sport about it, he knew that who he'd fought had cheated, and he was pissed. As soon as he was out of the hospital, and his face was healed enough for it, he caught the other boxer as he was leaving the gym. He tried to convince him to admit that he had cheated and forfeit his win, but they'd end up getting into an argument that'd turn physical when he tried to punch Waylon.

When the cops arrived, instead of breaking up the both of them and taking them both in, they instead arrested just Waylon. Because the other boxer chose to press charges, Waylon was shipped off to BlackGate Penitentiary after a hasty trial. But he didn't stay there for very long.

Doctor Hugo Strange, head of Arkham Asylum, had followed Waylon's arrest closely in the news. He took an interest in the boxer specifically because of the irony of his nickname. Strange would go on to convince the superintendent of BlackGate that Waylon was unfit to be housed in a regular prison because of how dangerous he might be - Arkham would be a much better fit for him.

Strange promised Waylon that being in an asylum would greatly reduce how long he'd have to spend incarcerated, as he could get out of an asylum when he was proven "sane". But Waylon was given a cell in the lowest pits of Arkham - in the basement, where Strange made his monsters. And he would become the living test subject for what would become Kirk Langstrom's own bat-serum; his nickname, Killer Croc, once a source of pride, becoming a cruel prediction of what he'd become.

Unlike Kirk, however, Waylon is permanently trapped in this new form; shunned from society and now living as Gotham's monster in the sewers. Forever a Killer Croc.

??? (Nickname: Rat/Rats) was born in....Well, actually, no one really knows where it came from. Rats was there the first time Waylon escaped into the sewers, and it seemed it'd been there a long time before that, too.

Rats is like a cryptid to most of the Gotham population. But, like, the kind of cryptid where everyone knows it's real, you just don't encounter it that often. 12 year old rat child in the sewers? Yeah, everyone knows about that

They're shy, unnerving, and tend to be nonspeaking, their only appearances to most of the public coming from brief glimpses in the sewers or, occasionally, guiding people lost within them back out.

To the rogues, though, Ratcatcher is a source of information. It seems to know far more than it should, due to communication with the all-seeing eyes of it's many rats. But how much it's willing to help depends on how much it trusts you, which is usually not very much at all.

And if they don't want to talk to you, then Waylon will be sure to escort you quickly out of the sewers.

(Fun fact: Rats communicates mostly in ASL!)

Basil Karlo was born and raised in Gotham. A lover of performance from the moment he could join the theatre club in school, he was dead set on pursuing an acting career after he graduated from college. His first experiences were small background roles or roles in commercials, but even then directors could see the acting potential lurking within him.

Small roles grew into more major roles, as they grew from background actor, to minor actor, to eventually starring in major roles. And they were a popular guy! Pretty face, charming voice, they became Gotham's own star!

In one of these movie roles, Basil would grow very close to one of his co-stars. Their relationship would move very quickly from friendship to romance, as it does when you work so closely with someone. It might have even moved a little too fast, as they decided to get married the moment they returned to America from their filming location. She moved into his home in Gotham, and things were good, for a little while.

But a lot of cast romances end up not working out, and this was one of those cases. Basil and his wife began to drift apart, focusing on their own careers and neglecting one another in the process. Their relationship began to decay, and with the nature of Basil's career, there began to be...people on the side.

They thought he kept these escapades a secret. They did everything they could to not let their wife or the public know about their cheating.

Of course, this was a pipedream.

This all happened around the time J's Red Hood Gang was at their peak. They figured out Basil's secret, gathered material, and would present the evidence to Basil himself. To keep their secret safe, Basil was forced under the Red Hood.

Basil...did not take well to what he had to do as a Red Hood. But he was desperate to save face amongst the well-to-do of Gotham, so he continued doing the bidding of J and her gaggle for a good while.

Until the day, with no interference from the Red Hoods, their wife left them. She had apparently been contacted by one of Basil's partners, and now they were going to leak that to the press during the divorce proceedings.

Basil's life was ruined. His reputation was in shambles, and he was doing more work for criminals than directors. But he decided he was going to change that. What was the point of working as a Red Hood if they had no way to blackmail him anymore?

So they attempted to leave. They confronted J and demanded that she let them go, and without waiting for her response, left.

Red Hoods were waiting at their home when they got back there. They kidnapped them, dragged them to Ace Chemicals, and proceeded to pour an experimental chemical onto their face. This chemical made flesh like clay—moldable, which the Hoods used to their advantage as they toyed with Basil's face. Morphing it into different shapes and expressions for their own amusement.

When they were done, they dragged him to the vat where they were developing that chemical and threw him into it, expecting him to die.

Unfortunately for Basil, they did not.

[yogurtverse]

List of things in JoJo's Bizarre Adventure that have actually happened (mild spoilers for part 7 and 8 if you care)

• A major plot point is foreshadowed by a man having four testicles.

• Two guys start what is basically a magic CIA investigation after a guy gives them suspiciously good tasting water.

• Said guy actually has an extremely powerful healing ability that just makes the healing process look super fucked up, and can cure basically anything but just uses his ability to make really good Italian food.

• A man falls under a spell that turns him into a dinosaur, which he can then permanently control after he gets Jesus Christ's eyeball shoved inside of him.

• A god tests his new abilities by turning his hand into a squirrel which he then effortlessly kills an entire legion of Nazis with.

• A man is quizzed on Weird Al trivia to prove he isn't possessed by vampires.

• A guy blows himself up, straight up disintegrates and comes back. The only explanation given is 'German science is the best in the world!'

• A woman uses her magnet powers to make two men look like they're having sex in public.

• 3 guys do a hypnotic dance to a severed head as an interrogation technique (the head is still alive) (this works)

• A main character melted and readers went eight real world months without knowing what happened to him (the melting wore off in the sewers)

• The main ability of one of the villains was to remove your powers and memories in the form of discs, which kills you incredibly quickly. He can also put a CD inside you and turn your dying body into a CD player.

• Two of the main villains elite guards were so bad at their jobs that the heroes didn't even know they were being attacked. (People also say this arc predicted 9/11)

• A man survives having a dozen knives thrown at him at once by lining his pockets with books in case this exact thing happens.

• A guy randomly gains coloured lips mid-fight and the only explanation is that he uses his time manipulation abilities to put on lipstick secretly.

• Two different characters do this btw.

• A main character that's just a sentient colony of plankton.

• A villains ability basically boils down to 'if you think about hurting me reality itself will kill you'

• There's a guy who's power looks exactly like a Lego replica of the white house. Once you bury the Lego white house a pressure field appears around a certain area and makes everyone inside bleed out.

• A main villains origin story is becoming a serial killer after seeing a picture of the Mona Lisa and getting really horny.

• A main character presumed to be dead enthusiastically shows up at his own funeral. However, it should be noted that he didn't know that was his funeral so as far as he knew he was just showing up to some guys funeral to announce that HE didn't die.

• A mans power is just being trapped in a transmission tower forever.

• A guy who canonically shot a god into space almost dies trying to get up an escalator.

• There is an Italian man who's ability is making ice. His name is Ghaccio, which is Italian for ice.

• A main character is implied to be bisexual through a monologue she has about snail sex.

• A main character meets a man claiming to be an alien and immediately uses this to scam a millionaire manga artist out of money.

• Whether or not this guy is an alien is never proven either.

• A main villain has 9 elite bodyguards. One is a bird. Another one is a sword.

• A man gets so mad about a guy insulting surfers he becomes addicted to drugs and bites all his fingers off.

• A child in elementary school has top of the range hidden cameras to watch his parents marriage fall apart in real time.

• It's a real possibility that a guy is so good at drawing manga that he survived the destruction of the universe.

• A guy throws a man out of a window and then compares it to putting on underwear.

• There's a guy dressed like a rabbit who lives on the moon who's sole purpose is fucking with one family and killing them if they don't look at the moon at a specific date. This family is seen once in a spinoff and not important to the actual plot at all.

• Mormonism is the true religion in the JoJo universe.

• A guy has a heart engraved into his skull somehow. Not important to the actual plot, it's just shown at some point and never brought up.

• A man accidentally puts his sock on inside out. This action stops him from being impaled.

[pianokantzart]

Seeing @keakruiser making AUs in a bullet point storytelling format inspired me to take a crack at my own AU that I've been thinking about for a bit. What would happen if, in The Super Mario Bros. Movie, after Mario and Luigi are separated, Mario was the one who ended up in the clutches of Luigi’s eventual arch nemesis, while Luigi teamed up with some of his own close allies to go rescue him? Essentially The Super Mario Bros Movie, but with the brothers' roles reversed. So, without further ado...

The Super Mario Bros. Redux (Pt. 1)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 ________

The beginning is much the same as it was in the original Super Mario Bros. Movie until they are separated in the warp pipe, with two exceptions: 1. When their van breaks down, Luigi's first instinct is to take the tool kit and try to fix the motor (mechanic Luigi, my beloved). But before he can get a good look, Mario insists that there's not enough time, and heads to the job on foot. Luigi closes the hood of the van and follows him. 2. After Mario leaves the dinner table, the focus goes to Luigi's conversation with his dad rather than Mario holed up in his room.

"What did I say?" "''You're bringing your brother down with you'?" Luigi asks, finally able to get a word in now that his uncles have shut up. "Why would you say that?" "Luigi, be honest. How much did that commercial cost? How many new clients has it gotten you? Huh?" "It's only been a day! And Mario'll figure something out. He always does." Luigi insists, taking his brother's plate of pasta and picking it free of mushrooms. "I just want to help him out along the way."

Pio sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "You can't hide in your brother's shadow your entire life, Luigi. One of these days you're gonna have to man up and start making your own decisions." Luigi doesn't answer, he simply finishes removing the mushrooms from Mario's plate, and gets up from the table to deliver the food to his despondent brother.

After Mario and Luigi attempt to save Brooklyn, after they end up in the warp zone, and after they are ripped from each-other's grasp, Mario is dragged into an unsettling looking pipe surrounded by purple smoke and overgrown with gnarled branches.

Luigi flies onward, emerging from a pipe inside what looks to be another sewer, not too different from the one back in New York. No sooner does he regain his senses does he find himself dragged away by a powerful blast of suction. Flying backwards through the air, he stops suddenly as his back clogs the nozzle of a strange vacuum-like contraption being carried by a little old man.

"Oops! Sorry, Sonny! I thought for certain you were gonna be a ghost!" the old man apologizes, releasing Luigi from the vacuum's suction with a flip of a switch. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small device that loosely resembles a hand-held vidoegame console, reexamining the numbers flashing on the screen. "When my readings showed that pipe 983 had suddenly reactivated, I thought for sure King Boo was trying to use it to send his band of ghosts to Sarasaland!"

Before Luigi could ask one of the thousands of questions on his mind, the old man introduces himself: Professor Elvin Gadd (E. Gadd for short.)

Luigi introduces himself in return, then asks about his brother. He tells the professor about their situation in detail, describing the warp pipe that Mario had disappeared into.

E. Gadd tsks sadly and shakes his head. He explains that particular pipe leads to "Evershade Valley," and though the valley used to be perfectly habitable, ever since King Boo shattered The Dark Moon nobody who has set foot in that land has ever returned.

"Wait, what do you mean? Who's King Boo?" Luigi asks "Well! You truly are out of the loop!" E-Gadd chuckles, "Then again... I remember how little I knew when I first arrived in this world." He continues to talk while leading Luigi through the underground, casually clearing a path for them with the powerful blowing and sucking functions of the vacuum. "King Boo is nothing less than the lord of ghosts! He is the master of illusions, the reigning tyrant of the undead, the loather of all living flesh, and– at the moment– the sole ruler of Evershade Valley."

This description unsettles Luigi. He retorts that if that's the case, he has to get to Evershade Valley as soon as possible. As frightened as he is, he's never been so frightened that he couldn't help his brother out of a tough spot, and he knows Mario would do the same for him in a heartbeat.

"Well! In that case I suggest you stick with me for a bit. And keep those tools with you." The old scientist gestures toward the tool bag Luigi had dropped on the ground in the mayhem, "I may have a few uses for them."

Just as Luigi comes to the question of where they are currently, Professor E. Gadd opens a sewer cover and leads him out into the middle of a big bustling coastal city in Sarasaland. Think the Daisy Circuit from Mario Kart, but way larger and more crowded (and missing the romantic statue of course.)

Luigi struggles to keep up with the elderly scientist, who weaves his way effortlessly through throngs of turtle men, snake monsters, insect soldiers, giant sentient heads made out of stone, and a vast array of other strange and fascinating pedestrians.

"Stop your dilly-dallying, youngster!" E. Gadd eventually calls, getting fed up with Luigi's slow, bewildered pace, "I've got a meeting in The Birabuto Kingdom, and my train– our train– leaves in fifteen minutes!" "Birabuto Kingdom?" Luigi asks, allowing himself to be shoved along, "What's that? What about Evershade Valley?" "So impatient! Do you think I'd send you into such a place unprepared??? No no, first I'm going to perfect my equipment, then I'll help you find your brother."

E. Gadd purchases their tickets and they board the crowded 64 Express. Once seated, Luigi's eyes are immediately drawn toward the window. He stares out, deep in anxious thought as the train chugs along, traveling from the coastal city into a desert landscape.

Then, we switch over to Mario. Standing up and dusting himself off, he looks around to find himself in the gloomiest place he'd ever seen... for the little he is able to see. There is a thick purple mist hanging in the air, and the path before him is shrouded in the branches of a forest long dead.

Loudly calling out his brother's name on the off-chance he was somewhere nearby, Mario follows a light in the distance until he stumbles across a lone boo. More confused than frightened, and feeling a little sorry for the white specter shyly covering its face, Mario bends down for a moment to examine it, assuring "hey, don't worry! I won't hurt you, I'm just a little lost is all."

Suddenly, he is ambushed by a colorful trio of ghosts: a greenie, a slammer, and a hider. He tries to fight back, but every time he attempts to shove them off or swing his fists he phases right through them.

His attackers knock him around a bit until Mario succeeds in slipping away. Now in a panic, he continues rushing toward the distant light, far faster and more recklessly than before.

Eventually, he gets close enough to discover the glow was coming from the lit windows of an old mansion. He enters and – for the little good it will do – shuts the door behind him.

He wanders the halls for a long time, roaming from room to empty room, all the while haunted by the shadow of something following him. Something big.

At last, he reaches a towering portrait room. Unlike the rest of the mansion it is teeming with life, full of frightened faces pressed against picture frames, begging for help.

Mario is frozen in a moment of fear and confusion, but quickly snaps out of it. He rushes to the nearest portrait– an image of a strange little mushroom man– to ask what is wrong and what he can do.

Before the toad can give a coherent answer, the eerie presence that Mario had felt when he first entered the mansion casts a looming shadow over him.

He turns around and raises his fists in helpless hopes of defending himself. The candles of the surrounding sconces go out all at once, and in the pitch black darkness a cacophony of cackles fills the air....

[katiekatdragon27]

Since Ubisoft makes NFTs of Rayman, I don’t feel bad about rewriting the whole show (kinda)

Me and @rainbow-wolf120 both kinda/really like CLH, but we both have issues with it. Soooo why not rework some stuff while keeping the core the same? Seems easy enough (NOT). First up is Bullfrog :)

More stuff below cut:

Bullfrog is my favorite character of the show. I love him, he’s awesome and fun and kind when everyone else is sorta giant assholes. Also his design is very clean and cute, and I don’t really have issues with him.

HOWEVER, I do have a couple grievances with how he dresses and his motives.

On one hand, if he is the last of the brotherhood, WHY DRESS SO OBVIOUSLY LIKE AN ASSASSIN?? This is an issues I have with Dolph too, bc like, if you are supposed to be under the radar, you would think HIDING the parts of you that GIVE AWAY WHO YOU ARE WOULD BE OBVIOUS. But no, no you need interesting looking protags ig.

Another thing that irks me is that there are so many cool assassins in the Assassin’s Creed universe. So many. And they choose to base Bullfrog on Ezio. I get it for marketing ig, but like, there’s literally a French assassin (AC Unity), but no, the French frog gets to be Italian lol. Although I find it funny, I feel like the whole thing was a missed opportunity to give exposer to the lesser-played AC games. Or use it to promote AC Shadows by making Bullfrog a girl or like the woman assassin from that game. Or better yet, combine a ton of different aspects of every AC game into the outfit.

Which is what I did lol.

To fix both these problems, I decided to design two looks for her (he’s a her now, stone me idc, also sorry every Laserfrog shipper ever it’s not personal I promise). The one on the left is her assassin fit. It drives a lot more inspo from AC Shadows and AC Unity, with elements of Ezio and Bullfrog’s original look. However, most of Bullfrog’s initial look is incorporated in the outfit on the right, which is the subtlety outfit. That is the outfit she starts the series with, only to take it off in the sewers to reveal she’s an assassin.

When in the subtle outfit, she tries to hide as much of herself as possible. Her assassin parts, her frog parts, and her girl-ness. Kinda. She just presents as a man so people don’t fuck with her. As for the assassin fit, it shows up in the Sewer scene when she’s fighting the dudes down there. Then they identify her once she’s arrested and surprises Rayman with being a girl lol.

And to everyone who gets pissy about her being a girl, the show needs more girls.

Have a good one my dudes :))

[our-happygirl500-fan]

In the episode Man Vs Sewer  we learn that Raph has some issues with being alone

Raph: You know Raph gets weird, when I��m left alone

Raph: Don’t leave me alone!

Leo: We will find you Raph!

However something interesting about Raph’s fear of being left alone is that even though Raph seems to have a fear of being alone, he doesn’t seem to fear being by himself as Raph is able to patrol by himself in the episode Pizza Puffs & Leo states in the episode ‘Hot Soup: The Game’, Raph has been going out to the surface by himself since he was at least 13.

Raph: Hello? Anyone gonna thank Raph for saving New York? By himself? Again? While everyone else was asleep?

Leo: I say we let him go Raph, you went out on your own when you were his age

Since Raph seems to be able to go on missions & patrol by himself, it is possible that Raph’s issues with being left alone might possibly stem from being left alone in the sewers or being separated from his brothers without knowing where they are.

In a previous post I sort of wondered if Raph doesn’t usually go tubing with his brothers as unlike Donnie, Leo & Mikey, Raph didn’t have a colour coded tube or an outfit for the activity the way his brothers did which might possibly mean that the Turtles go tubing brings up some unpleasant memories for Raph.

Raph: Okay Raph, you’re a little lost, a bit scared, very alone 

I have seen a few people theorise that Raph might have possibly gotten lost in the sewers when he was younger which is why he dislikes being alone, so it might be possible that the area where the Turtles go tubing is either the place a younger Raph could have originally gotten lost or is similar enough to it to bring up some unpleasant memories for him

[ohtobeleah]

Day Eight [Lethal Weapon]

Summary: During an intense interrogation, your existence is made obsolete when half the population is turned to dust. What felt like a mere five minutes was in fact— five years. With the knowledge that Hydra was once again rising with intentions more sinister then the last, you do the job you were originally sent out to do. Protect Sargent James Buchanan Barnes at whatever means necessary.

Warnings: Violence. Violence against women. Undercover Agent. Bucky Barnes x F!reader. Hurt!reader.

Word Count: 3.7k

Whumptober Prompt Day Eight: Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”

Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. Disclaimer: I do not condone nor endorse the actions that are written about during the month of October. These works of fiction are just that, fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for this year's prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“You’re so much prettier this way dear,” The bone-cracking, earth-shattering sounds behind the knuckle busters that connected with the side of your cheek, were enough to drown out a room full of men who seemed to take great pride in their work. Silence filled the underground hideaway, a derelict sewer under the streets of Los Angeles. Men of all backgrounds were stunned into silence as you groaned. Crimson blood dripped from your mouth like a leaking tap. You stared straight into their souls as you spat the rest that had pooled between your lips onto the ground before you. 

You turned your head, slowly, but surely, to look back at the man who’d most likely broken your jaw. Through swollen eyes, you gave him a daring look. Challenging him with a small, all-knowing smirk, as the eyes of the men who stood behind him, watching on, stood as still as time. All were unable to breathe under what they’d consider to be the stupidity of some ‘silly girl’ playing eye spy.

“Is—is that the—“ You struggled to speak, trying to steady your vision as your head felt flimsy. “Is that all you’ve got?” You’d only ever known him by one name. O'neill. But as you spent more personal time getting to know the man who’d been powering up the old elitist, the sadistic, the narcissistic, the god awful power hungry world dominating psychopaths that still believed in the ideologies that Hydra had operated on. You’d come to know his first name too. Vincent Hickory. His loyalist henchmen called him Vick. An underground drug Tycoon, gang boss with a wicked mean streak. “Thought you were supposed to be some sort of heartless, show no remorse, prick?” 

O’Neill’s calloused and bruised up hand intertwined itself in the bird’s nest of a mess that was your blood-soaked hair. He didn’t hold back as he pulled your head back to expose your neck. Hissing sharply through bloodied, gritted teeth, you tried your best to focus on the man who towered over you like some deranged God. Like a man who would stop at nothing until he got what he wanted. 

James Bucanan Barnes. 

“You really think now is the time to be a fucking smart-ass, dear?” O’Neill sneered. His face was so close to yours you could almost feel his lips on yours in a way you never wanted to. “You’ve got a lot of nerve Miss Y/l/n,” The tone he used sent shivers down your spine. This may have been your job, to remain composed under pressure, but you were only human. And above all? You were a woman in a very compromised position. “Now, tell me where Barnes is before I decide you’re life is meaningless.”

“I don’t know where—“ You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence before the back of O’Neill’s hand was colliding with your swollen, cut and bruised cheek. You couldn’t help the yelp that escaped from you. “I swear—“ Again, every time you said you didn’t know, over and over, until you felt your lungs collapsing under the pressure of broken ribs. The chair your broken body was bound to was surely about to break. The ropes that bound you dug into fragile skin—leaving behind burns. “I don’t know where he is,” You whispered. O’Neill sighed, obviously disappointed. He knew you were lying right to his face or else you wouldn’t be here. “I wouldn’t tell you if I did, so just kill me, because you aren’t getting shit from me,” The overwhelming urge to allow your body to succumb to the injuries you’d had inflicted upon you, was beginning to sound like a pretty good idea. “Barnes is well out of your reach, asshole.” 

As you waited for the final blow. The bullet wound that would surely take you out. The possible stable wound, the final blow, something—anything. You tried to remember why you were doing what you were doing. What you were so desperately trying to protect. Who you were trying to protect. Of course, you knew where James Buchanan Barnes was—he was in Wakanda. Halfway across the world, recovering. It was in the case file Nick Fury had given you.

“Agent Y/l/n—“ You heard your name being called from the chief Dawson’s office. Unbeknownst to you at the time, it was the start of a new way of life. Everything you’d ever known was about to change, be thrown out the window. You relinquished your toasted cheese and ham sandwich from your grasp and sighed to yourself as you dropped it onto your partner’s desk on the paper plate it came on. Lewis wasn’t all that impressed, but he’d just have to deal with the fresh aroma of grilled cheese and ham for a few moments of his precious time. You haphazardly balled up the napkin you’d whipped your face with as you looked at Lewis with a puzzled expression of curiosity and slight annoyance. You’d been sitting on his desk with your legs hung over the side, casually trying to enjoy a quick lunch. A somewhat luxury event on any given day. 

 “A moment please? If I’m not interrupting?” The chief's sarcasm was just as tasteful as your lunch. 

“This is a dear friend of mine,” You couldn’t help by to stare at the eyepatch that covered severe scares as you shut the door behind you softly. You took a seat graciously as you frowned your brows in confusion. “This here is Nick Fury, he’d like you to work a case in liaison with what was formerly known as S.H.E.I.L.D,” 

“I wasn’t aware S.H.E.I.L.D was still a thing?” You responded with more questions in your tone than excitement. Fury handed you the very case file that changed your life. As you took the manilla file, Fury crossed his arms across his chest as he leaned back on Chief Dawson’s desk. Taking you in for all that you were. One of the greats the CIA had to offer

“You’d be on your own essentially,” Fury explained very cutthroat-like. “I need someone who can disappear. Dissolve themselves. Hide in plain sight. I need someone who can take down an organisation that’s like a parasite once and for all.” Fury was as serious as you’d ever heard someone be. “I hear you’re interested in the Secret Service?” Fury questioned as you flipped through the case file, nodding quietly in response. 

“I can promise an in if you do this for me, I’m all outta options at this stage in the game,” It was a career-changing opportunity you’d been chasing for years, you’d been trying to prove yourself, be noticeable, be better than the rest. You looked over at Chief Dawson who offered you a supportive smirk. It was as easy as leading a camel to water, but it just so happened to be one of the most manipulative things Nick Fury had ever done. But he was determined to get to job done, he didn’t want an army of Super Soldiers running around. He could barely handle the ones he’d come into contact with so far.

“I’ll do it—“ You never should’ve said yes. “I’ll do anything, sir.” 

You weren’t going to be the person to take that away from Bucky, especially since you’d been tasked to try and infiltrate and assassinate the very people who demanded that something beyond his life was of import to them. His blood. The very serum that pumped through his veins. 

“You should have just killed me when you found me, it could have saved you a lot of fucking time and energy, Vinnie Boy,” You could feel your body slowly giving up on you. The very desire to just give into temptation and close your eyes was coaxing you to the edge. But you had to hold on, even just for a moment. 

“You’re either naive or stupid, or possibly both,” O’Neill hissed, his open hand came down against your face—leaving a stinging sensation that burned your broken skin. It was the final blow your body couldn't handle as you gave into unconsciousness. 

O’Neill turned to his men, not missing the opportunity to spit at your feet as you gave into the darkness. He watched with great pride in his soulless heart as you slumped over yourself. The ropes that bound you, the very ropes that were covered in mould and dirt, supported your dead weight against the chair. 

“Fuckin’ get rid of her,” O’Neill demanded his men through a thick Irish accent that you’d never be able to ride from your memory. “Dump her somewhere—make sure she’s dead and buried, because I don’t want her fuckin’ comin’ back.” Smirking as he leaned over, O’Neills hands dug into his knees for support as he leaned in to kiss your blooded forehead. He guided your unstable head forward by a hand to the back of your head before he softly placed a kiss on your forehead. “Seeya later princess, it was nice knowing you,“ The wink he sent you as you drifted in and out of unconsciousness would have sent a shiver down your spine on a good day. But this was a bad day, a very fucking bad day. 

O’Neill slid a piece of gum casually into his mouth. Something you should have told him he needed early if you still had your wit. But let’s be honest for a moment, shall we? He totally beat the ever-living shit out of you. 

“Hail Hyrda,” He chewed with a grin before turning on his heels to leave. O’Neill pulled a gun from the small of his back. It had been tucked away into his jeans under his shirt. The small of ones back could hide a plethora of things if you used your creativity. 

As you held onto reality, you watched with heavy eyes as he checked the clip casually before handing it heavily to his second-in-command, Miles Müller. “Between the eyes,” He murmured in Miles’s ear, loud enough so you could hear it still. 

Damn it—he was just a fucking kid. It wasn’t long before Miles had his hands on you, un-tying the ropes that bound you. He began to drag you along the concrete as you doubled over, leaving a trail of blood from your broken body. He was struggling just as much as you were. How could a kid do this? How the hell were you supposed to fight a kid? 

“Walk—“ Miles hissed. You didn’t listen. You continued to struggle against his grasp as you fell to the ground with a heavy thud. The gun in Mile’s hand fell beside you, exactly how you’d hoped it would. You were quick, too quick for the kid. In just a blink of an eye through clouded vision, you turned from your stomach to your back, firing at anyone and anything you could make out. 

“Touch me again and I’ll fucking kill you,” You spat, pointing the gun directly at Miles as he held his hands up beside his head. You couldn’t even stand, but you had a damn gun. The odds evened out. “The CIA knows you’re here, it’s over Müller.”

“I can’t,” Mile’s voice broke, he was just a kid, barely eighteen. “It can’t be—you don’t know what they’ll do if you do this,” It almost sounded as if he was begging you to give up, he was scared—terrified even. “Vick won’t stop until he gets what he wants,”

“At the expense of others!” You hissed. You struggled to hold your upper body weight on one elbow. It dug into gravel as you held the gun high at Miles. Tears began to well in his golden eyes. Almost hazel looking. 

“It’s always been at the expense of others Agent, I just go with whatever Vick tells me to do,” There was something deeper, something more sinister behind Miles’s reasonings for doing the things he did. Why would an eighteen-year-old stumble his way into organised crime? The answer, you don’t stumble unless you’re shoved.

“But why? You’re just a kid, Miles, I can hel-help you.” Your head felt so heavy but everything else felt weak, light as a feather, goosebumps were rising all over your entire body. So many different sensations were taking over your body all at once. “You don’t have to live a life you don’t want to, I can protect you, at all costs,” 

“He’ll kill me,” Was all Miles replied with, but it broke your heart. He was just as scared as you were.

“Guess we have that in common huh?” Your stomach churned, your head throbbed, your blood boiled and everything, everything hurt. “C’mon, help me out kid, I can help you,” You slowly started the lower your gun—shaking. But at the sight of your weakness? Miles jumped you. Swatting the gun from your grip as he straddled your waist. He pinned you down by your neck as his hands constricted your airways. “Miles—“ You gasped, clawing at his arms in a last-ditch effort to save your own life. “Don’t, do, this,” 

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place,” Miles spat, his grip only tightened as you began to panic. Choking you out as your legs began to fade. Turn to dust. It felt like nothingness. Slowly but surely, the feeling crept its way up your body.

“I’m so over hearing you psychopaths say that,” You choked out, Miles fell to the floor, your body disappeared before him, his hands gripped together as your neck dissolved under his touch. Panic consumed his entire being as he scrambled away—horrified. What had he done? He was only eighteen.

“Jesus Christ—“ Looking around, Miles panicked. He grabbed the gun you’d lost in the scrabble before sprinting off to find Vick. Hoping his poorly put-together cover story would pass. He’d finished the job, six feet under, dead and buried, a non-issue to the new world order O’Neill was so set on achieving—an elitist power. “Hail Hydra,” 

At the same time half way across the world, Bucky Barnes felt the same unimaginable sensation you had. The feeling of pins and needles, nothingness, weightlessness. Looking around aimlessly for his best friend with a worried look and concern plastered across his one-hundred-year-old face. 

“Steve?” 

It felt like you’d passed out, fallen asleep under the aid of heavy painkillers. You came to on the gravel, groggy-headed and confused. You pushed yourself up onto your knees as you felt your face. Normal—unscathed, like the beating you’d just taken never happened. Besides a throbbing headache, you felt fine. As you looked around the derelict sewer-style hide-away, you only had one question. 

Where had everyone gone?

                   Five Years’ and One Month later

Bucky Barnes sat eyeing off the receptionist who looked way too familiar for his paranoia. His leg shook as he tossed the idea back and forth. Should he say hello? With his gloved hands intertwined with one another, Bucky let out a sigh as he stood—sauntering over to the receptionist counter in the lobby of the building where he regularly saw his court-mandated therapist. Christina Raynor. 

Making his presence known, Bucky reached into the bowl of hard, single-wrapped candies. He popped one into his mouth as he leaned over the counter. It was one of those counters like in doctors’ surgeries—the ones that are higher and hide the staff behind them. 

“I know you from somewhere other than here—I can’t put my finger on it?” Bucky’s voice was soft, like he was afraid that his question would either startle you or annoy you. He was still learning to make conversation, struggling just slightly more with those he found attractive. “You spying on me?” Bucky teased, it was the first thought that came to his mind. Maybe you were some Russian spy? that’s where he’d known you, seen you. Were you a friend of friends from work? Had he accidentally stumbled across you while in his former Winter Soldier days? Were you an assassin? Or were you simply a face he didn’t want to forget? Whatever it was, whoever you were, Bucky didn’t think his simple question, the one that dripped with sarcasm, would receive the reaction he got.

“What?” You quickly shot your head up with wide eyes, looking at Bucky like you’d seen a ghost. “No? What makes you say that?” You tried to play your reaction off. Simply turning back to your monitor—trying to calm the fuck down. “There’s no such thing as spies, right? Aren’t they reserved for James Bond movies?” You tried to keep your head low and eyes engaged with the documents that lit up your monitor. The patient profile of Doctor Raynor’s current patient Michelle Pascoe. 

Bucky frowned his brows—surely you were kidding. He chose to ignore the comment and persevere in his mission to remember where he’d seen you before.

“Have I seen you at Izzy’s?” Bucky asked politely. “My neighbour Yori makes me go there with him. He’s this sweet old man who’s only got a few people around him,” Bucky was rambling, he knew that. But he couldn’t help himself. He’d seen you somewhere. He was determined to remember. 

You sighed softly, you knew Yori. You’d occasionally help him bring in his groceries up to his apartment. The brown paper bags would always break. You’d only known him about a week and in that time he’d managed to need your assistance five out of seven days.

“The apartment complex on Fifth Avenue, apartment 3B, pretty sure you’re 3C? ” You hadn’t even looked up from your computer monitor. “I’ve seen you around a few times, Yori? Nice guy—likes the patterns on the sundress I wore when I helped him pick up the apples that’d broken through the bottom of the grocery bag,” You chuckled. “I just moved in, maybe a week ago now? Still refurbishing the place—the landlady Mrs Shapiro, she was very quick to warn me about the psycho killer who I was moving next door to—made me sign a waiver and everything.”

“I’ll need your first, last, and security deposit, my dear. Are you sure you want to move in here? I don’t know if I feel comfortable with the man who’d be living next door.” Leaning closer the little old woman whispered in your ear. “He’s the Winter Soldier—“You held your tongue, never had you ever been more offended on someone’s behalf before. Maybe it was because you’d spent the better half of the last few months learning everything there was to know about James Buchanan Barnes—pre and post-Winter Soldier. Faking a soft smile you nodded. Excepting that ignorance could be bliss. 

“Really just need an apartment, Mrs Shapiro, I’ll take it.”

Finally, you looked up to meet Bucky’s blueberry eyes and sheepish smile. He was still leaning over the counter on his elbows. He looked tired—like he’d barely slept. It wasn’t hard to understand why, you could sometimes hear the screams that echoed off the walls in Bucky’s apartment. Exercising his own demons, the ones that plagued his subconscious memory. 

“Great—I love that.” Bucky sighed, shaking his head softly in disappointment—of course that little old Vietnamese woman saw Bucky as a monster. Of course, she did. Bucky carded his fingers nervously through his recently cut hair, still not used to the change of weight that usually dawned his head. 

“I wouldn't be too worried,” You couldn’t help the soft chuckle you let out at his response. You were symptomatic. 

“That’s where I know you from,” Bucky finally put two and two together. His mind eased knowing you weren’t some undercover spy spying on him. Oh, the irony. “I saw you in the elevator, must’ve been the same day, Yori was going on about frangipanis for hours,” You beamed up at Bucky, you really liked that sundress.

“Margot.” You reached your hand out to shake Bucky’s. “Margot Gilmore.” It was a new alias, a new identity—a new life. Told to go deep undercover at Nick Fury’s and Chief Dawson’s instructions. Only ever reach out if absolutely necessary.

Don’t bring attention to yourself, lay low—keep an eye on Barnes. Play the role of the sweet-talking receptionist and “Can I borrow a cup of sugar?” Neighbour. Playing neighbours with Bucky Barnes wasn’t a hard task. It was nice to have somewhat of a taste of normalcy after everything that had happened. From almost being snuffed out, being dusted during the blip. This was a walk in the park compared to what you’d been doing prior. 

“Nice to meet you neighbour,” Bucky took your hand softly, shaking it gently for a few moments before he retracted. “Been coming here long?”

“Against my will for about a month now, I haven’t seen you here before?” Bucky already knew you were a better receptionist than the guy he’d had to hand his paperwork to four weeks ago. He even thought coming to therapy might become a little less strenuous with a familiar face around.

“New job, kinda just got the gig—today’s my third day. It’s pretty easy, just receptionist bullshit and all,” Bucky chuckled under his breath. He could only imagine how nice it must be to have something so normal as a boring nine-to-five office. “From what I gather, Christina’s pretty cool,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“It’s an act, once she gets me behind those doors she’s completely different,” Bucky liked the dress you were wearing, office casual. Simple but it made your eyes seem bright, or maybe it was the lighting in the building he hated coming to, or maybe? you just had a thing for nice dresses. He’d have to ask Yori. You could see Doctor Raynor peering out from her door. Gesturing she was ready for Bucky.

“Ahh—Doctor Raynor’s ready for you,” You looked down at your monitor, pretending you couldn’t remember who Bucky was. “James—“

“Bucky.” Bucky was way too quick off the mark, correcting you before you barely had a chance to say his name. “Call me Bucky,” Tapping his hand on the counter, Bucky pressed his lips together with a shy smile as he pushed himself away. Walking reluctantly towards the woman who loved to pick his brain, turning to smile at you once more over his shoulder.

“Seeya, Neighbour—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**~***~***~***~***