#Hurt Paris

[aenslem]

STAR TREK: VOYAGER || 'Caretaker'

[bluerosefox]

The Drakes

It's been years since the Bats had seen Red Robin much less Tim Drake-Wayne. It started with a rather dumb argument that after years of holding back his tongue and the stress of being a TEENAGE CEO that Tim finally ripped into them.

They were too stunned by the end of his speech, him also admitting that yes he has his own problems and mistakes but at least he's trying to make amends or get over himself unlike others. It was their prolonged silence that was the final straw for him it seemed though, because Tim finally announced he was done, he was done bleeding for those that kept him on the edge of the family and that he wanted to rest, and with that Tim turned and left the Batcave for the final time.

They of course didn't take Tim's retirement announcement seriously, after all Tim was the last person other than Bruce they all believed would ever leave the life of a vigilante and a hero behind, and they all knew Bruce would keep working on the 'mission' even as a frail old man. It took them a few weeks before one of them finally decided to go see Tim and try to... talk about everything he said.

Only when they reached Tim's Nest, they discovered it was empty and he was no where to be found did they realize he was serious. It was a quick call to Wayne Enterprises to see if he was in and Tam no doubt holding back her sharp response to them that she told them that Tim had stepped down from CEO weeks ago and hasn't been heard from since. The one who went to see Tim immediately called the others, which sent many of them onto goose chase of false leads, arguments, and pointing blame.

Despite looking for their long lost Red Robin, he was good at hiding his tracks and any who might have an idea where he could be weren't talking.

So yeah it's been a while since the Bats had heard any news relating to their lost bird.

So imagine their surprise when Ra's latest attempt to upset the balance in their family again (did he want Damian to return as his heir? Take control over Gotham in the shadow? Upset Bruce? None of them honestly knew what his plan was anymore. Same old song and dance) and having captured them all that he brought up Tim to them. Or rather "shame the Detective is going to be late, but I'm sure his little family shall inform of things once he gets here."

None of them were expecting for Ra's to look away from them and with a snap of his fingers, three assassins brought forth into the room two others. One was being dragged by two assassins, black hair, pale skin, and lean swimmers build of a body. He looked roughly around the age Tim would be. He was placed on the floor right by Ra's boots, arms and legs tied up, clearly but alarmingly breathing low and slow from the raise and fall of their chest. He wore a simple T-shirt but had dark jacket that was covered in stars, NASA logos, and other galaxy themed patches all over it, his dark jeans also held some star patches but also held everyday stains from being outside in the grass and other normal day to day thing. All in all this person seems like a normal civilian individual and none of the Bats knew why Ra's had taken him.

The other assassin that had walked into the room was holding a toddler, a girl from the little pigtails on her messy head indicated. Her hair was just as dark as the passed out male by Ra's and her skin was shade healthier than him. She wore grass stained and messy paints caked overalls with a plan shirt under it and two different kinds of kids shoes (one was a green with dinosaurs and the other blue with little stars). She, unlike the young man on the floor, was awake and was looking around the room while sucking her thumb in clear distress, she also used her free hand that wasn't in her mouth to push the assassin holding onto her away from her as far as she could and was squirming her tiny legs enough to kick their sides. Thankfully the assassin didn't look too hostile or upset meaning she wasn't doing to much damage or being too annoying.

"What a lovely family the Timothy has gained for himself don't you think? I will admit Daniel put up a rather interesting fight, it was only due to us having the element of surprise that we managed to take him down and his little Eleanor has his fighting spirit it seems." Ra's said as he slowly reached over to the toddler to lightly fiddle (just to unnerve them as well) with her hair. However the moment he touched her hair, the little girl's eyes flashed from frosty blue to neon bright green and she had spat her thumb out of her mouth in order to hiss like a cat at him, her little feet kicking hard enough to cause a small 'oomph' from the one holding her.

Ra's gave an amused chuckle as he stared at the toddler in fascination before also casting his gaze down at the passed out young man, remembering the way his eyes also had flashed from blue to green and the amount of power he had saw bubble to the surface when they had ambushed the two in their home. As Ra's said before, if they hadn't had the element of surprise on their side when they went after Timothy's little family it wouldn't had worked. No doubt little Eleanor Drake was a hint of power Daniel Drake held.

Ra's turned to look at the Bats, and could clearly see the emotions on their faces which amused Ra's deeply, and couldn't help but say "Although I wasn't expecting him to marry a being with pure Lazarus blood flowing in their veins. Quite a interesting discovery that was. And that his offspring seemed to carry it also from birth. What lovely and priceless boons he has granted the League to have once he joins us."

Ra's could clearly see the questioning, fear (for the family in his clutches), confusion, and disbelief on the Bats faces and knew it would be so entertaining to watch the little.. family reunion he had set into motion.

He was so amused watching Batman the others he never noticed the light twitch on Daniel's face or the shifting breathing pattern. When he would later check to see of the large amount of tranquilizers they had given Daniel was still in-effect he was none the wiser that it had already wore off and that Danny was merely bidding his time for a opening.

[kanjichris]

"why don't you want him to know how much you love him?" "that's a little personal. he knows." "uh-huh."

[silverskye13]

Lyrics are to Peter Hollin's cover of God Help the Outcasts, which I recommend giving a listen if you haven't heard it, or would just like to hear the swelling music with some of the more dramatic poses.

I also highly recommend opening the images in a new window, if you're having trouble reading the text or seeing details.

I think this is the closest I've ever gotten to making an animatic XD

Tanguish doing musical theater in the Saint of Blood and Steel's cathedral, heavily, heavily based [as in straight up ripped from] Notre Dame de Paris, as well as the Chartes choir reliefs, and also I think the entry area is from Notre Dame Basilica in Montreal? I'm not sure I've lost the reference image. But I'll throw that name in the bucket in case y'all would like to look that one up as well! The altar piece is beautiful.

[paris-in-space]

They were meant to be getting married this week…

[salem-sapiens]

Of course I had to ruin it even for the nddp fans.

So yeah, book Phoebus/Frollo, because a crack ship is valid in every possible universe.

[iwaoiness]

When Argentina loses to Japan, Iwaizumi is there, crossing the net to reach Oikawa, who has fallen to his knees, hiding his face in his shirt collar, his shoulders trembling with broken sobs. Hajime wraps his arms around him, and Tooru collapses into the hug. There are no words in Spanish, English, or Japanese that can alleviate the sadness, the failure, and the defeat.

When Japan wins the set needed to advance to the quarter-finals, Oikawa stumbles out of his seat and runs onto the playing area, leaping over the billboard to the surprise of many fans, with a toothy, proud smile. Hajime looks up with teary eyes and lets out a wet laugh, catching Tooru in his arms as he leaps onto him, holding him tightly. There are words, "I'm so, so proud of you, mi vida", "you did it, I love you, I love you, I love you", "the quarter-finals, damn it, I knew you'd make it," soft and sweet, just for Hajime.

When Argentina suffers another defeat, Iwaizumi doesn't let Oikawa sleep in his own room. He drags him to his, and they shower together. Iwaizumi leaves him clothes with the promise that this time Oikawa will return them (which, of course, he doesn't). He applies kinesiotape strips to Oikawa's shoulders and arms, and then they watch their favorite movie on the laptop, cuddled up in the tiny bed. They talk about the movie, laughing at the most absurd scenes. Tooru lies with half his body resting on Hajime's, his head nestled against Hajime's broad chest. Hajime's hand roams through Tooru's hair for a while before wandering down his strong back. As they prepare to sleep, Iwaizumi holds him tightly, kisses his forehead, and whispers there’s no one like you out there, you are the greatest player the world has ever known, this is just another step towards the top, I love you and you are my pride.

When Italy eliminates Japan, Oikawa stands among the Japanese fans, giving a standing ovation to the team. He tries not to cry, fighting the sting in his eyes and the burn in his nose. But when he sees Iwa-chan bow towards the stands with the rest of the team in deep gratitude, when he sees Iwa-chan wiping away his tears with his sleeves, when he sees Hajime comforting a defeated Hinata, Atsumu, and Kageyama with pats on the back and hands in their hair, when he sees Iwa-chan checking to make sure the rest of the players are okay, and then searching the stands for him, giving him a sad smile, Tooru breaks down too. He comes down from the stands, and there is Hajime waiting. They hug, sinking into each other’s arms because there’s nowhere else in the world they’d rather be. Oikawa becomes Iwaizumi’s solid pillar, catching his sobs, sinking his fingers into his hair, and gently rubbing his back.

“Why are you crying so much, Iwa-chan? You're going to get snot all over my shirt!” Tooru teases, though he’s not much better, with teary eyes and a red nose. He lifts his head just to cradle Iwaizumi’s face in his hands, gently brushing his wet cheeks with his thumbs. When Hajime’s eyes meet his, he smiles softly. “It’s okay, my love, it’s all Tobio-chan’s fault. Geez, couldn’t he have paid more attention to the Italians when they were talking during the game?”

Despite himself, Hajime laughs, leaning into Oikawa’s touch, leaving a sweet kiss on the palm of his hand.

“That applies to you too, you know? We beat you, and as far as I remember, Japanese is your native language.”

“I was paying a lot of attention, but you kept covering your faces every time you talked!” he protested childishly.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, amused, before sighing and resting his forehead on Oikawa’s shoulder, feeling heavy and exhausted. Tooru kissed his cheek, resting his own against Hajime’s head while hugging him again, feeling the strong arms of the love of his life tighten around his waist.

“I wanted to win so much,” then he whispered, small and weak. “Not just for me, or my parents, or the team, or the country. Also for you. Especially for you. I wanted to share the fucking podium with you, Tooru. To share the medal like you did with me in Tokyo.”

Tooru wants to tear his heart out. He wants to sell his soul to the Olympic committee to redo these Olympics Games and start over. He wants to show that they are the strongest six. He wants Iwa-chan to prove it too. He wants them both to reach the highest peak, to face each other at the top.

He hates losing. He hates the taste of failure, salty and wet. He hates defeat.

But he also understands that this is volleyball too. Two teams separated by a net, bouncing a ball back and forth. The ball isn’t allowed to touch the floor, isn’t allowed to be carried but to be connected. Volleyball is also fun, even in defeat. Because it makes you stronger and because losing doesn’t mean the sport disappears forever.

“You will,” Tooru says, his voice grave, honest, and unwavering. You will because I believe in you. You will because this isn’t the end. You will because we’ll keep playing volleyball. "We will. The next Olympics will be in Los Angeles, and I'm going to kick your ass there, Hajime. I’ll reach the podium first, I’ll share the medal with you again, and it will be the gold.”

Iwaizumi snorts, snuggling into Oikawa’s shoulder for a few more seconds before lifting his head again. He cried again. His eyes are still wet, the skin beneath them red, trails of tears crossing his cheeks. But he smiles, wide and sincere.

“As if I’d let you beat me, babe. I’ll be the one taking you to the podium first.”

“Oho, Iwa-chan, do I smell a bet?” Tooru intertwining his hands behind Hajime’s neck.

“If I reach the podium, the honeymoon will be in Philippines.”

“And if I reach it first, it’ll be in Bali.”

“Deal.”

“Kiss to close the deal?”

“What about the handshake?”

“Bleh, boring!”

Hajime laughs, leaning in to rub his nose against Oikawa’s.

“Thank you,” he whispers against his lips, half-closing his eyes “for everything, Tooru.”

And Oikawa smiles, sweet and completely in love.

“That’s my line.” And with that, they kiss in the middle of the Paris Olympic Stadium.

...

as furudate once said: today you are the defeated, but what will you become tomorrow?

u can find this and me on my ao3 🍉

[buginete]

seeing things

[stormxpadme]

Anyone's sent today's Wolverine issue to Brevoort yet? You know since he keeps on yapping how the throuple is lacking evidence especially in recent issues LOL. This is exactly what the starving throuple fans deserved. It's not EVERYTHING of course, because this is still Marvel, but you can read it however you like and they didn't just retcon it from orbit as was at some point rumored. These panels make me mighty emotional, and now I'm ready to write ALL the throuple and scogan things for pride month :D.

[sealrock]

goodbye for now, rest well.

[paingoes]

Destroyer - Marks

(Masterlist)

girl help i can't stop making bonus content

this is set right around Part XIII, in regard to the “I should probably give you more visible marks.” comment.

(Content: living weapon whumpee, obedient whumpee, somewhat reluctant whumper, dehumanization, power imbalances, physical abuse, minor blood, brief drug mention, death mention)

==============

He got approximately ten million fucking emails calling him an arsonist, or telling him that the experiment is an accident waiting to happen, or asking why he was letting the A-bomb walk around off-leash, why he was letting the bomb walk at all. Accusations he wouldn’t dare repeat. It was all so stupid. Delta was good. Paris never worried about him fragging. But the appearance of insubordination was damning all on its own. It was not a good situation.

Unfortunately, the messages kept coming. From staff he actually respected, too. People he needed. He didn’t even know how word reached them that quickly. He sometimes forgot just how scared they were of Delta. It had never been a popular project. That night, he received many requests for him to be killed outright. Not fucking happening.

Fucking Nezu telling him what to do with his fucking psychic. He was more mad about that than he ever could have been at Delta. That was why he’d gone easy on him. It gave him serious pause whenever his wants overlapped with Nezu’s — sometimes enough to evaporate them completely. He really wasn’t in the mood.

Something had to be done though, by the time the next meeting rolled around. They had to know that Delta had been punished for it, that Paris didn’t just let him get away with everything.

Delta didn’t fight him on it — not that he’d expected him too. He kneeled in front of the desk like he’d been asked. Paris leaned back against it, hitting the pen a few more times than he needed to. 

Delta looked bad. That day had been the only time Paris had ever seen him cry — even weeks later, he hadn’t seemed to recover from it. His eyes were still so pleading, in a way they’d never been before. It was unsettling.

Paris readjusted the only ring he wore on his right hand. It was sapphire — and it was clean. There wasn’t any reason to drag it out. He tilted Delta’s face up a little, tucking the slick hair back behind the webbed fin of his ear. 

“Hold still.” He didn’t want to hit his eye by accident. The jewel was sharp.

He backhanded him hard across the face. Harder than he would have normally. It needed to bruise.

Delta’s head was forced sharply to one side. His hair fell back in his face, totally obscuring it when he looked down at the floor. He didn’t outwardly react, but his next breaths came out shallow and shaky. Yeah, that hurt. 

Paris cupped his face again, moving it back up to examine the injury. It’d landed where he wanted it to — a thin cut right along his cheekbone. He could see the spot where the bruise would form over the next couple hours. Delta winced. Paris gently smoothed over the flushed skin with his thumb. 

“I’m sorry.” Delta’s voice was quiet. It was all he would say recently. 

“I know.”

It was hard to be mad at him when he was so clearly repentant. When he was being this good about it. Paris released him. He’d planned on hitting him across the other side of his face as well, in the interest of covering all his angles. It didn’t feel worth it anymore.

“Hand.”

Delta placed his hand gingerly into Paris’s own. Paris tightened his grip around it, supporting the palm beneath so that it’d absorb the full force of it. Knuckles facing up. Paris reached back for the ruler left out on the desk.

It cracked down hard against his knuckles, fast enough that he didn’t really have time to flinch. His injured hand reflexively tightened around Paris’s in the aftermath; it was the only real physical reaction he’d had. His claws dug painfully into Paris’s hand, not yet breaking the skin.

Paris released his grip on the hand. Delta’s hand relaxed and the claws withdrew, but he didn’t pull it back like he’d expected. He just left it resting there in his grasp.

“Other one.” 

He offered it without resistance. Same routine. Paris brought the ruler back down over his other hand, watching as the first signs of bruising appeared upon them. He placed the ruler back down and released his grip on Delta’s hand. 

“Done.”

There wasn’t much else to do, really. Delta was always dressed in long sleeves and ceremonial garb. For the most part, only his face and hands were exposed on vanguard days. It was enough, though. His expression alone was enough. If he just stayed like that, he’d be fine.

Delta folded both of his hands back into his lap, bright purple and blue against the pale white of clothes. His hair fell messily in his face, but parts of his eyes were still visible. He was still looking at Paris in that desperate, shell-shocked way.

“…Easy. You’re fine.” Paris didn’t know what to say to make him normal again. “The sting will be gone in a few minutes.”

For the hands, anyway, though the numbness would remain. The mark on his face would hurt a lot longer. 

Delta nodded slowly. A small amount of blood appeared by the cut. 

Paris gestured for him to lean forward again. Delta did so, cringing a little. Paris pressed a tissue against his cheek to stop the bleeding. He sighed as it bled straight through.

“…You want a bandaid?” He offered. The bruise would still be visible beneath it. 

“Yeah.” His voice was barely audible. He took the tissue from Paris, keeping the pressure there. 

Paris disappeared for a moment, loudly knocking shit over in the overfilled medicine cabinet. He came back with the split bandage. Delta held still as he applied it over the cut, smoothing it out against his cheek. It was pale white, the same color as his clothes, standing out sharply against the dark blue of his skin.

“…Thank you,” Delta said quietly. Sweetly. It fucking killed him sometimes.

Paris felt something strange in the pit of his stomach. He ignored it. He made a small, noncommittal noise as he discarded the paper into the trash. 

Delta touched the side of his face gently with the newly discolored fingers. Bruises on bruises. He put his hand abruptly back into his lap when Paris looked at him, as if he’d gotten caught. 

“We’re done.” Paris waved him off, sliding the ruler back into the drawer. The pen was starting to kick in. He was getting lightheaded. 

Delta rose slowly, giving something like a curtsy before he left. Or maybe his legs were just unsteady. Paris didn’t really care. 

The door closed quietly. Paris slid the lock shut. He pressed his forehead against the wood grain. Definitely lightheaded.

……

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[captmuldoon]

Something that does stick out to me about the way they keep referencing Alice within the show is that the characters only ever reference Alice. We know Daniel has another ex-wife, we know he has two daughters that hate him and don't speak to him anymore. Yeah, part of what brings Alice up is because of Daniel's book (like the dessert from Paris in season 1), but when it comes to weaponizing Daniel's memories against him there are other prominent people in his life that are never mentioned. It always comes back to Alice. We might learn more about his other ex-wife and his daughters in the next season but I think the fact that they are continually absent across two seasons during the Dubai interview (when the running theme is memory is a monster) says a lot.

[tangerinefluff]

just like in tokyo 2020, japan fails to win their quarterfinals match. oh my heart hurts so much but they gave us a world-class match deserving of their (once) world #2 title. and for yuki who showed up in this match despite his missing numbers in the prelims really shows he is the heart of his team.

[grungeprincess2]

Just a girl, who loves Black Metal

[tea-earl-grey]

For my more serious fanart – happy birthday to our favorite Emmy award winning episode!

[who-do-i-know-this-man]

⚠️Vote for whomever YOU DO NOT KNOW⚠️‼️