#THIS IS SO EVIL GIVEN MY STATE OF MIND

[penncilkid]

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" Milo asked, chuckling.

"Looking at me like that!"

"Like you're the only person in the whole world?"

PLUTO WHAT IF THIS WAS MY LAST STRAW? </3 /POS

Been in a weird writing funk for a few months now so I thought I'd try to write something small for y'all here. Of course, it is Milo/Sweetheart. Of course it is a comfort fic. This seems to be the theme when I am not in the best of spirits. Anyway, writing below the cut!!

"Sweets! I'm home!" Milo called as soon as he was in the door. The house was dark, something he noticed when he pulled into their driveway. The text that Milo sent to Sweetheart saying he was on his way home went ignored, which was unusual. The house was quiet too, which was also unusual.

Well, almost quiet, as the meows of Aggro started coming through the house as the cat made his way to Milo. Aggro found him as he was just putting his keys and wallet down, rubbing up against his legs and meowing up at him. He seemed a bit stressed more than usual, which worried him.

"Hi buddy," Milo said, a small smile on his face, bending down to pet him. "Where's Sweetheart?"

The cat blinked up at him for a second before taking off down the hallway. Milo followed without hesitation, worry creasing his brows. He knew that nothing bad had happened, but he still couldn't help but worry. They had bailed on the plans with the pack tonight because something came up at work again. They had been going nonstop for weeks at this point, early mornings leading to late evenings. It wasn't good for them, Milo could say that much. The tension that they carried in their body the last little bit was not fun to watch, or the growing dark circles under their eyes. Milo wished he could stop time every time he heard Sweetheart's alarm go off and they begrudgingly dragged themselves out of bed. Just to give them a few more moments of rest that he knew they deserved.

When Milo got to the bedroom, Aggro was staring at the closed door in front of him. Odd. Normally Sweetheart would leave it open enough for Aggro to come and go freely.

"Is this what had you so worried?" Milo asked him, to which he got a meow in response. Milo knocked gently on the door, ear pressed close to hear if they were in there. He didn't hear anything. A frown edged his lips. "Sweetheart? You in here?"

When he didn't get a response, he opened the door and stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the dark fast and spotting a figure curled up in the bed. Aggro bolted under his feet and was on the bed in a split second. The figure on the bed stirred a bit as Aggro sniffed around before settling beside them.

As Milo turned on the bedside lamp, he realized that Sweetheart had fallen asleep still in their work clothes. He sighed, glad that they were okay and unharmed. He brushed some hair out of their face, hand trailing down their cheek afterwards. Sweetheart stirred a bit more, eyes blinking open at the touch.

"Well hello there," Milo said, a small giggle breaking out from under his breath. He still was rubbing gentle circles into their cheek.

"What time..." Sweetheart slurred, reaching for their phone that was haphazardly placed beside them. If Milo had to guess, they were likely on it before falling asleep, and it dropped when they were finally out. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Just after ten," Milo answered them when they frowned at their now dead phone. "Just got home."

"Sorry," Sweetheart muttered, rubbing their eyes.

"Don't apologize," Milo said, fondness dripping from his words. "But, I tell you what. Why don't you finally get out of these clothes and put on some pyjamas? It might be a bit more comfortable."

Sweetheart nodded, sitting up with the guidance of Milo's hands, a yawn spiling from their lips.

"Stay here," Milo whispered to them, crossing the room to the dresser, rooting around for a pair of pyjamas.

"You don't have to--" Sweetheart started.

"I want to, though," Milo cut them off, already walking back. "I'm still wondering how you were able to fall asleep like this," he said jokingly, placing the pyjamas beside them and plucking off their glasses.

"Was tired after work, and it was, like, 7 PM by the time I got home. I had already eaten so I was just gonna lay down for a little bit. Looks like I ended up falling asleep," Sweetheart explained.

"It must have been a long day," Milo commented, reaching for their wrist so that he could take off their watch. He kissed along their knuckles when he was done, and he just caught the small smile that graced their lips at the motion.

"Something like that," Sweetheart sighed.

He turned to place the items on the bedside table as Sweetheart started to change. When that was done, he reached for their phone to plug it in, already setting the alarms that they set every night in the process. It was quiet in the room, but Milo didn't mind that. As long as he could feel Sweetheart's aura pulsing from them in time with their core, that was all he needed. Not to mention Sweetheart was still half asleep, there probably wasn't anything that they wanted to talk about.

"Are you hungry?" Milo asked after he finished his tasks, pressing a kiss into Sweetheart's shoulder. "When was the last time you ate?"

"At six," Sweetheart said. "Supper was bought for us when we had to stay behind. It was very nice actually. Though..."

"You want a small snack don't you?" Milo teased, already moving back toward the kitchen. "The usual?"

"Please," Sweetheart said. There was a pause before Milo heard their feet come padding behind him. "I love you," They added from behind him.

"I love you too," Milo said, hand instinctively reaching behind him. Sweetheart's fingers intertwined with them in a heartbeat, making Milo's chest fill with warmth. "Some would even say I love you more."

"Impossible," Sweetheart said, chuckling.

In the kitchen, Sweetheart didn't break away from him until he handed them their smoothie drink from the fridge. Milo grabbed the last of the strawberries from the fridge, and grabbed a bowl and a knife, before settling beside where they sat on the counter.

"How was the party?" Sweetheart asked. "Did you have fun?"

"Not as much fun as I would've if you were there," Milo said sincerely. He loves his pack, of course he does, but he also loves showing off for Sweetheart who loves his antics. Secretly.

"Oh, stop," Sweetheart said, but even when they took a sip of their drink they weren't able to hide their smile.

"And the pack missed you," Milo added. "Got asked where you were at least every few minutes for the first, like, half hour."

"They missed me that much?"

"You've barely been around for three weeks at this point, Sweets, of course they have," Milo said. "They love you."

Sweetheart didn't answer, but Milo could sense that they were glowing without even looking at them. When he did glance at them, he was caught by their beauty again. Even like this, with their hair a mess, cheeks red with sleep, and the last remaining lines fading from their skin. God, was he ever lucky to have them.

When Sweetheart realized what he was doing, they groaned, pushing his face away from them. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Milo asked, chuckling.

"Looking at me like that!"

"Like you're the only person in the whole world?" Milo asked.

Sweetheart didn't answer, just grumbled something, much to Milo's amusement. "Just focus on the strawberries before you cut your finger off."

"Please," Milo said, "I could do this in my sleep."

"I'm not rushing you to the hospitable if you hurt yourself," Sweetheart said.

"Sure," Milo said. "The love of my life, my mate, wouldn't bat an eye if I accidentally cut myself."

"I wouldn't," Sweetheart said.

"Which is totally reasonable," Milo said, "especially after I've been terrorizing you with my lov--ow!"

Milo dropped the knife, clutching his right thumb with his other hand. Sweetheart immediately reacted, placing their drink down and grabbing for his hand.

"What did I tell you! Here, let me see," They chided, brows creasing together as they pried his fingers away from his thumb to see--nothing. Sweetheart stared at his thumb for a few moments, blinking, before they groaned again. "You jerk!" They said, lightly pushing him away. "I was worried about you!"

"So you do worry when I hurt myself," Milo teased.

"You're evil," Sweetheart grumbled, crossing their arms.

Milo hummed, scootching over so that he could settle between their legs, a hand automatically settling on their thigh. "You love me," he said, his other hand coming up to cup the back of their neck and pull them in for a kiss. For someone who thought he was evil, they sure did respond to his touch, melting into him the second their lips touched.

"Evil," they muttered against his lips, though with considerably no force behind it.

"Will this make up for it?" Milo asked after he pulled away, reaching for the bowl beside them and presenting it.

"Maybe," Sweetheart said. They accepted the offered bowl.

"Dork," Milo muttered fondly, stealing a strawberry half. Sweetheart didn't respond, just wrinkling their nose at him. "Do you have the weekend off?"

Sweetheart nodded. "Finally."

"Perfect," Milo said, smiling.

"I swear to God if you say 'like you'--"

"Like you," Milo said, chuckling when Sweetheart lightly smacked his chest. "Eat, so we can go to bed."

--END--

[enigmaris]

DPxDC idea that has been floating around my head for a few months now:

Gotham, given its whole... thing with Lazurus Pools and general bad vibes, has a ghostly representative. Lady Gotham, when she bothers to be coporeal, looks like an influential lady from the 1920s, straight art deco elegance. A real classy girl.

Jazz is touring college campuses around the US. She has full ride offers from Gotham University, Metroplis College, and Star City State, to name a few. Danny, upon hearing that his sister is going to GOTHAM of all cities, decides he is going on this trip with her. He might be only 15, but his big sister isn't getting mugged while he has half an afterlife left to live!

Lady Gotham is all a flutter! Why the last ghost king was so frumpy! King Phantom is so handsome and powerful, and he is coming to her city. She absolutely has to show off her best side! She feels like a teenaged girl getting her home ready before a new beau comes to visit. She's flustered, she's nervous.

Meanwhile, John Constatine wakes up with cosmic alarm bells going off because something really, really bad is happening. He investigates to dicsover that for the past three days Gotham has not had a single crime.

No murders, muggings, hell not even a single jay walker!

Gotham the most cursed place on the North Or South American continent is suddenly more squeaky clean than whatever small farm town Superman grew up in.

No crimes, no smog in the air. Crime Lords seemingly gone in a puff of smoke, Assassins asleep in their beds.

Its so freaky. Even Batman is spooked and he is never spooked by anything.

Constantine is certain some demon or other nefarious being is harnessing Gothams cursed energy for some evil plot. Gathering the power to use it like a nuclear blast. Batman is concerned about mass mind control.

Lady Gotham is doing the metaphysical equivalent of hiding all of your stuff in a closet before a guest comes over because you dont have time to actually clean. She had to shoulder the thing closed! She just knows that when the lock fails there will be a huge mess.

Jazz and her family are just surprised about how nice Gotham U's campus is. She'd heard it was so dark and dangerous, but everyone is smiling and pleasant to her! Danny is just happy Jazz is safe from various villains.

So we have Batman investigating his rogues gallery for mind control plots, Constatine hunting for demons, Jazz and her family taking a walking tour of Gotham U, and Lady Gotham using every bit of her ghostly powers to make sure her damned, cursed city doesnt embarrass her in front of her crush!

[cutielando]

snoopy | l.n.

synopsis: in which Lando has to share you with your childhood plushie

my masterlist

You had warned him from the beginning.

Ever since Lando asked you to be his girlfriend, you had told him about Snoop. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t want to listen to you.

When you were a little girl, you never really connected with dolls or cars or other toys. Instead, you became obsessed with plushies. It didn’t matter what it was, if it was stuffed and soft, it was the new love of your life.

And it followed you to your teenage years, and then into your adult years, and you loved it.

You didn’t have many plushies left, the majority having been donated or in your childhood home, but there was one particular plushie that is still with you today, someone you just couldn’t separate from.

Snoopy.

You received Snoopy as a gift for your 6th birthday and you had never parted ways since. He came everywhere with you, always sitting on the bed of whatever hotel room your found yourself staying in, always under your arm whenever you flew somewhere. He was your best buddy, and you couldn't just leave him behind while you explored the world.

He had to come with you.

When you and Lando got together, you told him all about your love for plushies and your special bond with your Snoopy, warning him that he would be with you everywhere you would go with your boyfriend. 

At first, he thought you were joking. 

He didn’t mind at all that you loved plushies or that you still had one from when you were young. If anything, he found it incredibly sweet and cute and made him like you even more.

But he didn’t expect you to be serious when you told him that Snoopy would be sleeping in the bed with the two of you. Or that you would snuggle with him when flying over for his races. Or that you would always make room in your bags for him, no matter where you had to go.

He wasn’t prepared to compete with your childhood plushie for your attention.

He didn’t expect to have beef with an inanimate object.

But there he was, and he was sure as hell not going to lose that battle, especially not when the dog would just stare at him with those eyes and that sly smile, making fun of him whenever he would be in your arms.

“Sometimes I feel like you love him more than you love me” he had told you one night after he got back from the United States, finding you snuggled up with Snoopy under the covers while he had been showering.

You lifted your eyes from your phone and stared at him with big eyes, your beloved toy tucked safely next to you on the bed.

“What do you mean?” you asked, pouting at your boyfriend.

He almost felt bad for even bringing it up once he saw the expression on your face, but the moment his eyes drifted to the evil dog next to you, his worry went out the window.

“He’s evil and I feel like he’s taking my place as the favorite man in your life” he said, and you were confused at first until you noticed where his gaze was stuck.

On your beloved plushie.

You couldn’t help but start laughing, finding the whole thing adorable and funny at the same time. You’d never thought that Lando could be jealous of your childhood toy, let alone raise that issue and feel replaced by the spotted dog, and yet there he was, doing exactly that.

Nobody could blame you for finding it funny, really.

“Babe, Snoopy could never take your place as my number 1. He’s just been with me through a lot and I’m very attached to him. I didn’t know it bothered you so much that I take him with me” you said, shrugging at him.

You really hadn’t given it much thought about what Lando might think about sharing his space with the stuffie, being so used to having him with you wherever you went pushing those thoughts at the back of your mind.

But you now realized that you hadn’t even thought about your boyfriend and what he might think, which is the worst thing on your end.

Lando was now starting to regret ever saying anything to you about Snoopy, seeing how sad your eyes were when talking about how emotionally attached you were to him and how much you needed to have him with you in order to feel comfortable in strange places. He felt like he was being ridiculous, trying to compete with a stuffed animal when he knew how much you loved and cherished him.

He just had to deal with the fact that Snoopy was not going anywhere and try to get along with the idea better than he did until then.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve just realized how much of a jerk I was being just now. It’s okay that you take him with you, totally fine with me. I was just saying that it’s cute how attached you are to him and how much you love having him with you” he explained, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you into a hug.

“I don’t think I ever told you why I’m so attached to him” you said, making him shake his head. “My father bought it for me when I was really young, and I used to take him everywhere with me. I wouldn’t even go to the bathroom alone if he wasn’t under my arm. As I grew up, my parents started arguing more frequently, and I mean full blown screaming matches almost every other night. I used to hide under my blanket with Snoopy and my phone while watching the cartoon with my headphones on so I wouldn’t hear them. It just became a thing that whenever I felt like shit, I would just hold him and it would take my mind off of things” you explained, making Lando squeeze you tighter to his chest. 

“And when your parents got divorced?” he asked, rubbing soothing circled on your arm.

“Well, I lived with my mom ever since they split and the cycle just continued. Every time I would feel sad about my dad leaving, I would just hold Snoopy and remember all the happy moments he gave me before he and my mom broke up” you further explained, shrugging as to signal it was not a big deal.

But to Lando, it was a huge deal. 

He had just unlocked a whole other part of you, a part that made your obsession with the plush dog seem not so childish anymore. He felt even closer to you after understanding better what you went through.

“I’m sorry for thinking Snoopy was bad” he whispered, making you smile and giggle.

“We forgive you” you said, subtly reaching behind you to grab Snoopy and cuddle him between the two of you.

Lando chuckled before giving the plushie a squeeze, adoring the way your eyes lit up at the sight.

And even though he had to share you with him, he wouldn’t complain anymore.

How could he even compete with Snoopy?

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[kalak]

Darth vader in comics is wild because he's evil but like. While palpatine and tarkin and other empire high ranking officials were being like I shall genocide countless cultures and races and subjugate planets with force and imprison a shitload of people to fuel the empire's military expansion. The Republic is gone and an authoritarian dictatorship will take its place

And then Vader is like I'm going to build a SITH PALACE in a lava planet I'm going to CURSE my underling so he has to fight for eternity as a half physical, half ghost state. I'm going to podrace into a SANDSTORM, I'm going to inadvertently save a civilization by battling a MASSIVE shark monster while riding a epic black horse creature, I'm going to battle palpatine à la a kaiju battle, both mind controlling a beast to fight in our stead. Meanwhile also sobbing over padme whenever given the chance,

[angelicblondie]

what about luke castellan x ballerina!reader but she had to give up ballet when she went to camp and he like finds her dancing in the forest one night. maybe when he’s a little busy with like backstabbing everyone but yk🤷‍♀️

(like meet me in the pale moonlight or tomorrow never came coded like ughh😩😩)

wait...i adore this. as a dancer this made my heart actually jump for joy.

every night, luke was plagued with dreams. the not good kind, more specifically.

it started a few months ago. the deep ancient voice of a titan long imprisoned would echo through his mind, urging his darkest desires of revenge and shameful need for power to the forefront of his thoughts. he was angry, angry at the gods for ignoring him and all their other children. he wanted to stop this system, he was full of bitterness.

so the voice in his head was appealing. he knew that it probably wasn't morally good to listen to the evil titan kronos, but then again, if it all ended up with the system of the gods abolished, he could live with that.

but anyways, the point is, dreams invaded the peace luke found in his unconscious state, and sometimes, it was too much. sure, he agreed with the titan, but he wasn't ready to abandon home and betray his friends, not when they were the only ones who accepted him. he couldn't do that, no matter how much to words appealed to him.

so, when the hermes cabin felt suffocating, and his mind was reeling, late at night, luke would venture off into the woods.

luke felt at comfort with the odd eeriness that filled the late night air - he didn't jump or flinch at the sounds of leaves crunching or bushes rustling - he felt at peace with the scary.

that was, until he saw footsteps in the mud.

curious, luke followed the trail, until he reached an more open area of the forest, and he leaned up against a tree, taking in the sight in front of him with pure curiosity.

there you were, wearing grey sleep shorts, a black tank top, and a pink cardigan, dancing in the middle of this forest.

you seemed to be in your own world, sneakers planted in the ground as you did some simple plies, and luke watched, transfixed by the sight. your hair was tied up by a pink ribbon, and you had the most peaceful expression on your face, not one luke had ever seen before.

you were relatively new to camp, only having arrived in the past year. you were quickly claimed by your mother, aphrodite, and gained a fast group of friends and a positive reputation. luke and you hadn't talked much - sure, he gave you your tour, and the two of you had got on quite well, but once you got claimed, he didn't have much time to talk to you, given the rapid enthusiasm of your siblings.

he didn't know you were a dancer, a good one in fact. you elegantly pranced around, your feet moving quickly yet gracefully. luke was mesmerized - he had never really seen anything like it, like you. you seemed so free - so unburdened by the struggles of being a demi god. just you, alone (kind of?), dancing - luke guessed like every other demigod, you had found your own way to feel normal in this crazy world.

eventually, your eyes caught luke, and you stumbled back, imidiatley flushing. gods, you were mortified!

"l-luke? what are you doing here?" you exclaimed indignantly.

luke remained leaned up against the tree, the corners of his lips tilting upwards. "was on a walk, happend to come across you."

you huff. "how long have you been there?"

he shrugs, standing up straight. "not long." he walks forwards a bit, closer to where you stood. "you dance?"

wasnt it obvious? you thought, but awkwardly twiddled your thumbs. "well, used to, i guess. cant really anymore, cause....you know." you say, your voice somewhat shy.

luke humed in recognition. "yeah, the whole demigod thing doesnt help. wouldnt be fun if a cyclops showed up to a rectial, huh?" he said, the dry yet teasing humour in his voice elicited a giggle from your lips. "guess not," you agree softly, your eyes twinkling happily.

luke, feeling a little bashful, rubbed the back of his neck. "uh, your really good by the way. i feel a bit bad interrupting, you were in the zone."

you bite your lip, feeling a bit embarrassed. "yeah well, theres never really time to dance anymore, so i guess whenever i cant sleep i come out here to." you look him up and down. "is that why you're out here? you cant sleep?"

luke hums. "yeah. nightmares," he simplifies, his thoughts being brought back to the reason he left his cabin.

you blow out a breath of air. "hate those," you mumble.

luke observes you. "you enjoying camp?" he asks, changing subject.

you smile a little, nodding. "yeah, its different then what i thought it would be. it actually been really great, my sibling have been super welcoming," you say, your voice sounding so genuine and enthusiastic it was hard for luke not to smile.

his lips quirk up, eyes filled with a bit of mischief. "yeah, well, camp'll do that for you."

you bite your lip, almost as if you were contemplating your next words. "y'know, i haven't seen much of you since i got here. you must be busy."

luke chuckles a bit. "why, have you been looking for me?"

his flirty words heated your cheeks and you let out a nervous laugh. "no!" yes. "i was just wondering."

luke poked his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "right, right."

you talked for a little longer, before luke escorted you back to your cabin. you thanked him with a quick kiss to the cheek before running inside, and luke walked back to his own cabin, distracted from the overbearing titan in his dreams, even if only for a little while.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! New random idea that popped into my head falling asleep in the bat boys hoodies while they're on partol.3

I probably misinterpreted this ask but have this instead!

Dick

Uses you sleeping under his hoodie to pretend that he had somehow gotten pregnant.

No one believed this bullshit because dick had gone on multiple rants of you burying yourself under his hoodie and sleeping while clinging onto his chest. He had albums full of these moments that his teammates wonder whether or not he had storage on his phone that wasn’t dedicated to you.

But dick would get a little distracted with you sleeping under his hoodie when he was out on patrol, no matter how hard he tries to focus, he was brought back to you and smiling to himself at how much you trusted him to keep you company while you slept soundly against his chest.

It’s been rather slow for patrol, which was what he wanted but that meant he was prone to giving you kisses and back rubs whenever he felt bored with the unusual quietness of Gotham city. Dick would even hum a tune to you softly or even tell you silly little stories about the stars, anything and everything to keep his mind occupied and you in a state of relaxation under his touch.

‘I still have to go on that stargazing date with you sooner or later.’ He says to no one in particular as he rubs your back, tracing words into it as he smiles softly. ‘I’ll bring Hayley since she loves you so much, I’m jealous but then again I love seeing my two favourites sweethearts being adorable and cute-,’ dick gasps, ‘also we need to do a Halloween costume photo shoot with Hayley sooner or later. What do you think?’

You shuffled a little.

‘I’m glad you agree, we should do it soon.’ Dick replied as he walked across the rooftop in search of anything out of the ordinary, with Halloween closely encroaching, he guessed that people were preparing for the holiday but unfortunately for Dick evil doesn’t take a rest; even on holidays.

Jason

He thought this was ridiculously dangerous for you to pull off, sleeping under his hoodie while on patrol!?

He’s staying on the rooftops and out of range as much as possible as he pops his head under the collar of his hoodie to check on you, only to find you still soundly asleep against his chest as he sighs in relief.

‘Still sound asleep?’ Roy asked.

‘Still- wait,’ Jason looked over at Roy who looked back at him and shrugged his shoulders. ‘You keep checking on them like a mother hen, that and you’re not actually subtle when you keep looking down the collar of your hoodie.’

Jason internally groans but despite cursing himself for being caught, his hand instinctively rubbed your back when he felt you shift under his hoodie, reassuring you that everything was okay and that it wouldn’t be long until you got to go home. Roy smirks as he watched Jason coddle you during this particularly boring night of patrol, finding his need to keep periodically checking on you now and then rather endearing in all honestly, but would put a hand on Jason’s shoulder and remind him;

‘They aren’t going to up and disappear if you don’t check on them for a split second dude, they’ll always be there clinging to you like a koala.’

Jason knew this but didn’t trust Gotham enough to take his eyes off of you without thinking you’ll be taken the next, Gotham didn’t allow anyone to be happy for long, and this relationship with you had was more or less a dream come true for Jason; who had finally found his god given solace in you and wasn’t willing to loose you anytime soon, so forgive him if he wasn’t eager to be apart for you for a while and come across as a protective bear.

‘I know,’ Jason hummed softly, cuddling you closer out of instinct, ‘I know they won’t but I’m not risking anything, not while we’re in Gotham.’ He adds and Roy only accepts this as he went back to his post, making sure that no one would take Jason or you off guard.

Bruce

Curse you and your puppy eyes because Bruce was planning on leaving you in the bat cave upon seeing how tired you were, now here he was, out on patrol with Damian as you slept soundly under his hoodie like you had been for the past hour and half.

‘Why didn’t you leave them back at the man or father?’ Damian asked, patting your head gently through Bruce’s dark hoodie.

‘They have ways of holding things over my head Damian,’ Bruce replied as he felt you snuggle closer to him in your sleep, kissing his collar bone as though to remind him and yourself that you were okay, that everything was okay, ‘ways of which I find myself unable to deny.’ He adds as he kisses the top of your head.

‘Still patrol isn’t exactly safe to be falling asleep.’ Damian echoed the concern of your wellbeing that was prevalent in Bruce’s mind as he raised an eyebrow at his father’s decisions.

‘Try telling them that and watch them pull the puppy eyes like their life depends on it.’ Bruce thought to himself but would never say aloud for…multiple reasons as he looks over at Damian who was hovering over the lump that was you like a protective but overbearing hawk as he stared at his father.

‘I will not allow them to be hurt.’ He declared and Bruce could be help but smile at how adamant his son was in wanting to keep you safe. It was something they bother shared, even know they were well aware that you could keep yourself safe, all in thanks to their intensive training you were put under months ago.

‘They could take out thugs with one arm tied behind their back, they’re more than capable Damian.’ Bruce said humorously as his son pouted and took his seat in front of him, in front of you protectively as he unsheathed his sword. ‘Regardless of their abilities, they’re sleeping right now and must be watched over at all times.’ Was Damian’s response as father and son watched over their city, while the city remained clueless that they were watching over more then just the city but also the slumbering person under Bruce’s hoodie, sleeping soundly.

[pumpkinhimiko]

Since the post about differences in translation in regards to Kaito and Kokichi's relationship was unfortunately deleted, I've taken it upon myself to make my own for posterity's sake.

NISA: Geez… you're such a naive dude.

OG: 。。。ったく、テメーはピユアなやろうだな。/ …Geez, you're such a pure guy.

A pretty well-known change that makes Kaito sound more insulting then he does in the original. Kokichi's response was also altered not only in the text, but in the voice acting; in Japanese, he sounds uncharacteristically emotionless, rather than annoyed like in the dub.

NISA: Well, we come from different backgrounds. So for now, let's agree to disagree. No one's ever called me naive before. And from Kaito? Seriously?

OG: まあ、百田ちゃんとオレの話が合わないのわ最初あきらめているけど。。。 / Well, I'd already given up on seeing eye to eye with Momota-chan since the beginning… ピュアなんて言われてのわ初めてだよ。オレみたいに嘘つきがさ。/ But that's the first time someone's called a liar like me pure.

Kaito goes from telling Maki to let Kokichi go or he'll die, to telling Maki to let Kokichi go so she won't get executed:

NISA: Maki Roll, cut it out! You'll get killed if you don't!

OG: ハルマキ、もうやめろ！それ以上やったらマジで死ぬぞ！/ Harumaki, stop already! Any more than that and he'll seriously die!

Kaito's response to Maki saying he shouldn't have cooperated with Kokichi is translated to sound like he was pestered into it. In the original, it sounds like he's seriously reflecting on Kokichi's state of mind throughout the game.

NISA: It was kinda hard to ignore such an annoying guy. Geez… I wonder how far ahead he planned this evil scheme of his.

OG: 。。。あいつわそんあ易しいヤツじゃねーよ。/ …He wasn't that simple. まったく。。。どこからどこまでが計算だったんだろうな。あいつの悪巧みわよ。/ Man… I wonder how much of it he'd planned out. For that cunning scheme of his.

And of course, Kaito's final words on Kokichi were made to sound a lot harsher.

NISA: He was a lying sack of shit.

OG: 。。。あいつは筋金入りの嘘つきだったぜ。/ …He was a liar to the core.

[madgirlmuahaha]

“I went to the shelter and asked for the cats that had been there the most.”

MY HEART. It’s more than just the inherent heartwarming-ness of it all. I can’t help but remember Aelwyn Abernant during sophomore year, imprisoned in an orb and tortured for months and months on end, until her mind had been irreparably damaged. Abandoned by her shitty parents who couldn’t care less about her actual treatment because she was still technically alive. Abandoned by her evil comrades because she wasn’t worth the effort to try and save after she’d completed her part of the plan.

Saved by her little sister after everybody else gave up on her, despite the cruelty and cowardice that had defined their relationship up to that point.

I know that Adaine hit a big reset button in Aelwyn’s brain and restored her mind to its pre-catatonic state, but she still knows exactly what she’s been through. The body keeps the score, and despite her sinister-yet-flirty exterior she is deeply wounded from everything that’s happened to her.

And that’s why it’s so wonderful and heartbreaking to see her care for so many rescue cats. Someone must be there to save the mangy, the wounded, the undesirables. She doesn’t love them despite the fact that they’re all little shits, but because of it. Everybody else has given up on them, too.

Aelwyn Abernant is a vicious, conniving, and deeply traumatized feral cat and I wouldn’t have her any other way.

[risingoftime]

ECHOES OF THE MIND | POOLVERINE X F!READER | CHAPTER TWO

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From your vantage point on the balcony, the world appeared distant and intimately close. The cigarette in your hand, its ember glowing softly, was a ritual, a brief escape from the whirlwind of thoughts and memories that swirled within you.

You often found solace in these moments of stillness, where the city’s rhythm became a backdrop to your internal landscape. The city, with its bustling streets and towering buildings, was both a friend and a stranger. Growing up in foster care had left you with a fragmented sense of belonging, and the cigarette was a small anchor in a sea of uncertainty. Each drag was a pause, a breath amid a life that had often spiralled out of control. Your search for solace was a constant, a thread woven through the fabric of your life.

Despite the challenges of growing up in the system, shuttling in and out of foster care, you remained resilient. The absence of a family, the mystery of your origins, and the note your mother left behind were all obstacles you faced with determination. You refused to let these circumstances define you.

The note your mother left behind was a stark reminder of your beginnings, a solitary piece of paper with just a name—a name that had been both a gift and a burden. It was a marker of your existence, but it had never been more than a name to you, a label without the context of a family or a past. This struggle with your identity was a close companion, a weight that you carried with you every day. When your gifts first made their presence known at the age of eleven, you naively thought that you were cursed, evil in a way. But as you grew, you learned to accept and understand your unique abilities, and in doing so, you found a sense of reconciliation within yourself. No one’s been your knight in shining armour. 

Now, it's just you and Amera. Amera, your loyal friend, has been by your side for as long as you can remember.  It feels as though fate intervened to keep you together because you were blessed to remain by each other’s side regardless of the tumbles and jumbles that came with being in the system. Her presence has been a source of comfort and strength, a reminder that you are not alone. She made life tolerable. As you approached the age of eighteen, the looming threat of being cast out into the world became all too real. They were forced to jump between shelters that were filled with misplaced characters who struggled with mental health, addictions, or both. 

It wasn’t until you had grown fed up with the uncertainties that you decided to take things into your own hands. The world had been unfair and harsh towards you, so you figured it wouldn’t matter how you would tip the scale to your favour. The apartment that you and Amera occupied had been a steal, literally. Amera didn’t know how you pulled it off; at barely twenty-one, you lacked the financial means typically required to secure a two-bedroom apartment in the bustling core of New York City. No one would’ve rented to two young girls with only their high school degrees and part-time minimum-wage jobs. From the moment you set your sights on that apartment, you began weaving a careful narrative to implant in his mind. You spoke confidently about your ability to pay rent, highlighting your financial stability and reliability. You were adept at using your power to play with the landlord’s mind, subtly assuring him of your dependability without stating it outright. And it worked. 

Years later, your ability continues to solidify your place within the building. You hadn’t had to pay rent since entering the apartment. Some minds were more docile than others. But with practice, no one’s consciousness was unmalleable given the right amount of force and will. Logan was the first to prove that theory wrong. 

“I thought you said that you quit.” A voice emerged from behind you, causing you to jump. 

“It’s my last pack,” you countered. 

“So you say,” Amera responded with a laugh. She joined you on the balcony with her mug, knowing it was green tea in contrast to your black instant coffee. Her long red curls wildly framed her freckled face, and her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She resembled a quirky librarian. Amera sat beside you and continued, “I’m surprised you are up this early; I was just getting ready for my clinical rotation.” She’s in the last year of her nursing program. When she told you about her ambition to go into healthcare, you had convinced her to go forward with it, and you’d “take care” of the rent. Amera remained unaware of how you managed this acquisition. You suspected that Amera thought you did sex work on the side to afford your lifestyle. 

Although you loved Amera dearly, you had never trusted anyone enough to expose your mutant identity, not since you had first discovered what you were truly capable of. 

The presence of mutants is not widely accepted in society; there has been increasing news coverage about the need to control x-gene humans. It wasn’t lost on you that the incident with Logan last night may have left you exposed.  

“Hello?” Amera waved her hand in front of your face, taking you out of your daze. “You okay? It was like your mind went to a different planet.” Her brows were furrowed as she analyzed your face.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you replied, shaking off the lingering unease. “I just didn’t sleep well last night. I got in late from the bar 'cause Wade was fucking around instead of helping me close.” You rolled your eyes as you recounted Wade’s words of wisdom. Amera raised her eyebrows at that. 

“Wade again, huh? I swear that guy’s more trouble than he’s worth. I swear to God, if he’s the reason you’ve been more on edge lately–”

You shrugged, attempting to brush off her concern. “Tell me about it. It’s just been a hectic week, that’s all. It’s nothing I can’t handle, I promise.” you grumbled before taking another pull of your cigarette. 

Amera studied you for a moment, her concern evident. “If you need to talk about it…” 

“Thanks, Amy. You know I always bounce back eventually, but we can talk later when it’s not 5 in the morning.” You appreciated her offer; it was just like her wanting to shield you away from the pain of the world, but you weren’t ready to tell her the truth. And a part of you was unsure if you ever would be. 

She nodded, accepting your answer. “Well, I’m off to my rotation. If you need anything, text me. And maybe try to get some rest. You look like you could use it.” As Amera left, you took a moment to gather your thoughts. Her concern was genuine, but you couldn’t afford to let anyone see your vulnerabilities, especially not with the increasing scrutiny on mutants and the recent incident with Logan weighing heavily on your mind. 

Your thoughts raced as you recounted last night. Logan’s reaction had been unsettling. It was a rare occurrence, and it left you questioning whether your abilities were waning or if something about Logan made him particularly impervious. Is it possible that he was a mutant as well? You hadn’t met another person like yourself before, but of course, he might have had the ability to be unaffected by the powers of others– a walking shield of some sort. If that were the case, then you wouldn’t have to worry. Both of you would be on the same page. You’re delusional. It wasn’t as if you could assume that the man had supernatural abilities, nor was there a safe way to weasel the information out of him without explicitly exposing yourself. 

The hesitation in his demeanour proved it feasible to get ahold of his mind. He seemed intrigued but ultimately chose to leave. That was the issue; Logan could still choose to listen to your persuasion. If you possessed the gift of reading minds, you probably wouldn’t have lost as much sleep over this. Perhaps it was time to reassess your approach. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to keep a low profile and act as if yesterday hadn’t happened. The second best thing to your power of persuasion and thought projection was gaslighting. Deny and repeat. It was the best option until you could find a way to convince Peter to switch your schedule. You’d learned to play the role of a cheerful bartender well, and now it was time to use those skills to deflect any probing questions. You would need to be more cautious, especially with the growing risks associated with using your powers. The last thing you needed was for someone to become suspicious, or worse, to attract unwanted attention. You’ve gotten comfortable before, but as you've gotten older, blaming your ability to get your way on luck was no longer an option. It was time to be more vigilant. 

You had spent the day cleaning around the apartment and picking at the leftovers Amera had left for you. Your body was fidgeting, and it was impossible to sit still whenever you were nervous. Glancing at the time, it was best that you began to get ready before you were late for your closing shift at the bar. You studied your reflection, noting the weariness etched into your features. Amera was right. You needed to get some rest. Coffee and cigarettes weren’t doing your appearance any favours. By the time you were done applying your makeup, no one would suspect a thing. It was days like today; you’re grateful to wear a uniform. It made preparing for work that much easier. Female bartenders at Whiskey Whispers must wear the navy blue logo shirt that is snug and form-fitting with a low v-cut to compliment your blooming cleavage. They were accompanied by high-waisted black shorts that cut across your ass, making you appear more shapely than you were. It was a bit more revealing than you’d typically dress, but it was what brought in the tips. Throwing on a matching tracksuit to cover up, you grabbed your bag to head out for the subway. 

Walking towards the bar, you recognized him instantly. Logan leaned against the brick beside the back entrance of Whiskey Whispers with a cigar in his mouth. He wore a leather jacket with a white wife-beater underneath and his staple Levi jeans. His hair was dishevelled, and it took all your willpower not to stare. He shouldn’t be here, not at this time. Logan usually came for a drink closer to dusk. His presence didn’t allow enough time for you to think. Quickly, you steeled your mind and remembered your plan of laying low. Picking up your pace, if you got inside the back office before you could be followed, surely everything would be fine. It wouldn’t be odd not to greet him since you weren’t clocked to work yet. 

Oh, how you were wrong. Logan’s arm shot out to block the door with record speed. His sudden movement stopped you in your tracks, and you could hear your heart race as you faced the impenetrable barrier of his muscular forearm. The two of you were so close that you could inhale the heavy smoke emitted from his cigar. “Not so fast, princess.” Logan’s tone of voice was brusque but not wholly rude. He had more significant intentions than just catching up for a drink. 

You licked your lips to maintain your composure as if your mouth hadn't almost run dry. “Excuse me, Logan,” you forced your words to come out casually. I need to get settled before my shift.” Logan didn’t move an inch. His gaze felt like he was attempting to burn a hole through your eyes—steady and focused. 

He took a slow and significant drag from his cigar before exhaling the smoke to curl around his chest. “No problem, I just have a few questions. I promise it won't take long; we need to chat.” This wasn’t what you had anticipated. You fought the urge to panic. However, you knew how to handle this, stay calm and keep the conversation as short and sweet as possible. You could feel the presence of your powers stirring awake beneath the tranquil facade that you have shown. It wasn't safe to rely on them in a volatile situation like this in the public eye. 

“Questions about what? Can’t it wait? I have to get inside before I'm late.” Your voice was steady as you feigned impatience toward the man, hoping he’d get the hint. Logan pondered what you had stated and huffed, “Alright, let’s just talk, then.” He yanked the back door open, leaving little space for you to shimmy through. “After you, princess.” 

The back office was dimly lit, with lockers for workers to stash their things and old furniture that threatened to prick you with its tetanus-infected springs. The air smelled stale, and the AC hummed in the background. You needed to talk with Peter about getting the back door key card scanner fixed to avoid situations like this. Anyone could’ve entered through; the only reason no one has bothered is because of Wade’s unstable ass, some of the patrons started a rumour he got a hard-on from the thought of punching things. 

Yet, that didn’t halt Logan’s determination to get a solid answer from you. His eyes narrowed as you set your things inside the locker and began to unzip your sweater to reveal the scandalous shirt. Logan hadn’t taken care of your appearance previously; he rarely kept this much eye contact in a short period. However, now he studied your every move. 

“You know, I’ve been around for a while and seen my share of weird shit. And after last night, I think you’re not exactly who you seem to be,” he stated.

“Not sure what you’re getting at, Logan. I’m just a bartender, trying to make a living.” You rolled your eyes at him for extra effect. 

Logan flicked the ash of his cigar on the tiled floor before returning it to his lips. “Cut the crap. I know you’ve been hiding something.  You’ve got a way of making people do what you want, right?” The way that he posed the question alluded to the fact that he may have already known the answer. You were on your last resort. 

“Do you hear yourself? You’re imagining things. Maybe you had one too many drinks last night. I might need to start cutting you off earlier in the night.” You forced a laugh, but it sounded fake, a bit too high-pitched to sound genuine. 

Logan leant forward to be eye-level with you. You could feel his breath on your skin and couldn’t control your heart pounding. You began to break out in a sweat. Logan’s mannerisms were on the verge of being unhinged; behind his stone-cold brown eyes lay a wild side of him waiting to be unleashed. His voice was low and steady as he spoke, “I’ve dealt with enough mind games to spot a telepath when I see one. So, let’s skip pussyfooting and get to the point. What’s your deal?”

You stared back at him and remained still, although your instincts were screaming to run in the opposite direction, or worse, utilize your power with all your might to make him forget last night had ever happened. “And what if I told you that you’re wrong? What if I said I’m just good at reading people?” You gazed up at Logan through your lashes, trying to gauge his body language.

“I could hear your heart beating out of your chest. Am I making you nervous? I assure you I’m not here to play games. I know what I felt. You were messing with my head, trying to influence my decisions. You don’t do that without some kind of power.” 

Fuck. You balled your hands together in frustration and cursed under your breath. Logan wasn’t going to drop it. “So if you’re convinced I'm a mutant, why not report me? Instead, you chose to harass me at work personally.” 

“I want to know who else knows about this. I don’t want any surprises. If you’re involved in something bigger, I need to know where I stand. You get me?” Logan replied without hesitation. 

Ah, it began to make sense. He was worried about his safety, a secret of his own. “You’re a mutant,” you said, taking a step back, your voice steady but sharp. “You’re not exactly a stranger to mutant abilities, are you? I can sense something in you—something hidden behind that tough exterior. Maybe that’s why I was so drawn to you.”

Logan’s expression shifted, surprise flickering in his eyes before his face hardened again. “Don’t try to flip this onto me.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you retorted, your annoyance bubbling to the surface. “You’ve got that same intensity, that same ‘I’ve-seen-some-shit’ look that comes with being more than just a regular person. Maybe you’re trying to intimidate me to keep your abilities under wraps. Who else has tried to get into that head of yours?”

And for a moment, the tension between you was almost palpable. “I don’t know what you think you’re seeing, but if you’re making accusations, you better have something more concrete than your gut feelings.” He didn’t care to confirm or deny your question. 

“Logan, you might not be ready to admit it, but you’re hiding something,” you said, jabbing your index finger against his firm chest and feeling a surge of defiant energy. “And if you’re going to question me, maybe it’s time you looked in the mirror and confronted your own truths before someone discovers it for you.” You knew you were getting ahead of yourself, and your patience was thinning. 

He grabbed your hand and held it rigidly. “You think you know what you’re talking about, huh? Just remember that you can’t access my brain. I'm immune to you and your wiles.” His tone sounded like a threat.  He let go of your hand for it to fall lifelessly to your side. As Logan turned and walked away, the room seemed to settle into a heavy silence. You were left uneasy that the confrontation had only scratched the surface of deeper, more complicated truths.

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[mikethinkstwice]

For a very long time I've excluded psionic stuff from my fantasy worldbuilding. I could just never elegantly fit psionics into the cosmology of my world. When you already have arcane, divine, and druidic magic, elementals, necromancy, infernal magic, the stars, the moon, the sun, and God knows what else, it get pretty cramped. And for me, psionics is always the first thing I drop when i am given the traditional worldbuilidng template.

But I watched a 1981 film that has changed my mind on that. Scanners.

I'm sure there's lots of bad things you can say about the film as a whole. Its acting is a bit stilted, and its pacing is a bit painful, sure. But there's this innocuous scene in the middle of the movie that has inspired a new approach for psychic individuals in my worldbuilding.

So Scanners follows the story of titular esp/telekinetic mutants as they're caught in a power struggle between two secret factions. Whatever.

Because of the ESP powers of Scanners, they are constantly hearing distorted, fragmented voices in their head. This disability makes it difficult for them to function in neurotypical society.

BUT! There's a scene where we watch a small group of Scanners connect their minds and speak to each other in a meditative state. And when they do, they're at peace.

So when Scanners meet other Scanners, they can tune their nervous systems together in a form of collaborative meditation. And when they do, they begin to attain harmony. But the more Scanners that join them, the more of their individuality they surrender to a new, collective identity. And to most Scanners, this is a pretty good deal, as their individual selves struggle to function in the outside world.

And sure, I know that psionics and collaborative brains are already often paired in fantasy settings. But most of the time, they're characterized as parasitic. They evoke themes of mind control or manipulation.

And while the Scanners can do those things, the purpose for their collaborative bonding is purely eusocial. It's to get relief from the pain they normally experience. It's to feel at peace. To be happy for once.

Remember, Scanners was made in 1981! An era where in the United States, anything communal or eusocial was associated with Soviet Russia and the evil red communism. But despite that, Scanners is one of the first times I've seen a film offer up a beneficial reason for eusocial psionics that doesn't inherently benefit some singular being at the top (i.e. elder brain). And that's so refreshing! And kind of empowering too.

I'm not sure if my point was AT ALL made clear in this little essay of sorts, but my point is that the above presentation of psychic powers in fiction has inspired me reintroducing psionics into my future worldbuilding.

[edennill]

In which I puzzle over metaphysical implications as regards the peoples inhabiting Arda

fyi, a certain familiarity with the (predominantly Christian, I think) concept of fallenness/unfallenness is assumed, although it turns out that it doesn't necessarily work here. Feel free to ask for clarifications

So. I'm once again wracking my head as I try to make sense of what I shall call: 'metaphysical states' of elves, men and others, because the subject is emphasised and lampshaded a lot in the books, and I can't force it all to make sense when taken together.

Ainur are a specific case and I should really leave them aside for now. They certainly can fall — and, unlike angels, change their mind, apparently (which goes both ways) — although they do seem to be more all-or-nothing than everyone else. Still, I think as long as one doesn't go into the implications of time and what its existence or nonexistence changes, they're almost straightforward. But then you have:

Elves. The 'Fall of the Noldor' is very strongly emphasised as a metaphysical fall from grace and further evils, even ones unconnected with the matter of the Silmarils themselves, are blamed on it later (Maeglin!) So far so good. Except. Non-Noldor are also liable to behave in ways that are not exemplary in the slightest, and it doesn't seem to signify a cesura in the same way — and the Noldor in Valinor were able to commit acts that perhaps weren't as heinous as what we call crimes, but weren't good either. Getting into rancid fights with your brother isn't much in comparison, but these are not the actions of unfallen people.

And on the other hand, authorial quote (paraphrased): "Elves in some ways represent Man in an unfallen state". And I'm inclined to agree: they aren't subject to death (except they may be killed, so doesn't this already break down?), and there is something very poignant in the image of their artistry, "extempt from earthly limitations". But they do not lose it, not in any easily tangible way. We can argue that evil diminishes creativity and it's probably true, but there is no hard line anyone passes. And this is again lampshaded in-world with the Númenoreans ("If we die because of some darkness that lay on us before, than why don't the Noldor?").

Which brings us to Men. The existence of a direct cause-effect relationship between fallenness and mortality in Arda cannot be ascertained (Even taking into account a Catholic framework, I feel that logically it need not be the same relationship as the Biblical one since, in contrast with the Garden of Eden, the world was already marred when humans appeared). While I consider the Tale of Adanel to be Gondorian in origin, I can also see the possibility that whatever Men did back then, beyond memory (or in other words "we purposefully forgot") was just that much worse than Alqualondë and the Oath. In any case, Man is very straightforwardly Fallen.

Hobbits. The rules for Halflings are presumably the same as for Men, which is certainly notable, given that they seem to be the least inclined to evil of all incarnates. Not perfect, not by a long shot, but unknowing of wars and violence. A pastoral image, only in-world it's true.

And at the same time, my musings bring me to the unexpected conclusion that dwarves are the only notable "generally unfallen" kindred. Which is, in context of everything that regards them, weird — because by their actions, they are very similar to Men. And yet — either the circumstances of their creation make them disadvantaged from the start (which doesn't really make that much sense), or something happened off-screen, or it's the same case as Saeros, or Thingol sending Beren to his death.

Ents? I honestly don't know if we've seen enough of ents to judge, although they seem generally good-inclined? Huorns are a different kettle of fish.

Before I try to explain orcs, it would do well to know what they are exactly.

In other words, I cannot make sense of it all, enough that I've resorted to calling the default state of incarnates in Arda "semi-fallen" (or, as is, "semi-unfallen"). Which is not a thing that makes sense, philosophically speaking — but I can find no better way.

(Although, to be quite honest, the default state of being in Arda (because of the discord?) seems to be significantly different from the unfallen state of Man as described by religious thinkers in some ways, and not all of them regard merely such things as physical marring, so perhaps "semi" isn't the worst way to describe it.)

In any case, if someone has thoughts on the subject, I'm very open to hearing them.

[celaenaeiln]

I just finished Forever Evil and I think it’s insane how this man who even though is a parallel for Batman is still not Bruce and yet he shares the same codependency to his Dick, just like Bruce is lmao 😂 I’m starting to think that Damian is the only Wayne who have a healthy relationship with Dick, and that’s because it’s Dick himself who mentors & takes care of him 😂

YES YES YES!!!

I'm so glad you noticed!!

Dick isn't just made for Bruce okay, he was made for the Wayne family.

Like this is actually canon!!

Telos - the AI who was the one who used his powers to cause the convergence of the multiverses in Convergence - says this

Convergence Issue #4

"Your Batman. He died protecting you. Or trying to. The bond between you and Bruce Wayne echoes in every reality."

And he's right. Well, almost.

Convergence Issue #4

THOMAS WAYNE LITERALLY WENT FROM "I don't care if you die" to "I'M BLOWING MYSELF UP TO SAVE YOU. I DON'T CARE WHAT YOUR LAST NAME IS, IT'S WAYNE NOW BISH" in two seconds flat.

Convergence Issue #2

And the thing is Bruce's dad and Dick didn't even know each other until like an hour ago but instantly Thomas Wayne was taken by him.

Ofcourse you have Bruce's brother too who also loves Dick

Justice League (2011) Issue #25

"In another world, you called me the brother you never had. And you were the brother I always hoped for."

Which is a pretty big thing given what he did to Bruce:

Justice League (2011) Issue #25

But does it end there? Is Thomas Wayne Jr's twisted desire to have Dick by his side again the finale of the show? NO BECAUSE IT ISN'T EVEN THE CLIMAX

He murdered Dick's parents just so he could have Dick bond with him. He crossed to a whole another world because he was driven mad with grief at not having Dick by his side

Justice League (2011) Issue #25

You know what this means? If Bruce hadn't reached Dick in time, then Dick would be Talon on Owlman's earth again. His intent here isn't just fixing his earth as he claims to Dick. No, his real intent is the unspoken thoughts in the Owlman text.

But you know what's kinda freaky? Bruce on another world has done the exact same thing as Owlman. Owlman has watched Dick for a long time and then killed Dick's parents. This Bruce Wayne didn't kill Dick's parents but -

The All Star Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder Issue #1

"Yeah, I've had my eye on him for awhile."

Bruce, can you make it sound any creepier and stalkery?

Aside from the general creepiness of observing Dick, they do have the same codependency issues. Now that you bring it up, Thomas Wayne Jr's mental state relied on Dick's happiness and exitence and Bruce's does too -

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1074

When Bruce gets possessed by a demon, in the safety of his mind, he goes back to two memories he cherishes dearly, two memories where he uses as pillars of strength his dad and the Dick.

When Dick is killed by the monster in his mind, the light in Bruce's head literally goes out. He then goes to the worst place and time in his mind - his parents' death. I seriously cannot overstate the importance of Dick to him.

He and Dick are connected in every universe.

Damian undoubtedly has the healthiest codependency relationship with Dick. Unlike Thomas who died for him, Thomas Wayne Jr who killed for him, Bruce who lives off him, Damian needs him in a way that doesn't drive Dick crazy lol. For now.

In the future if Dick dies though,

Batman (1940) Issue #666

So....

the entire Wayne family's kinda crazy about Dick.

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

Noirceur | JJK | Main Part

Pairing: demon! Jungkook x fem! human! Reader

Summary: A kiss. A curse. A tangled fate. A dark soul. His love breaks your fate, your bond cures his death. And a poetic dance that he traps you in, along with your own song that only he can hear. A story told wrong or in which Jungkook finds his lover after swimming through centuries of lost time and cursed minds.

Warnings: fluff?, angst, demon! Jungkook, black swan! Jungkook because I'm obsessed, toxic love, soft yandere?, obsession, implied kidnapping, dark fantasy, magic, curses, spells, blood, minor injuries, anxiety and feelings related to it, non-con kissing, kinda creepy, mentions of death, poetic writing, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 3.1k words

A/N: I wrote this one in one sitting O.O, let me know what you think in the comments, darlings! Also, who else is obsessed with Black Swan Jungkook? Because I certainly am and this fic was inspired by the music video and my own ideas :D.

ALSO, this au is open for further parts if you request anything, darling! My inbox is open, lovelies xxx. This story will go how you like and I'll link all the parts into a Main Masterlist when something is requested for this story.

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

Noirceur: (noun). The state of being pitch black in colour; a state of lacking illumination.

The stories you have heard all your life were true. You didn't doubt it anymore.

From purity to evil. From light to the darkest night. A loneliness that turned into love, it morphed into an obsession. A claymation of a life, a soul. A being. A heart.

In the depths of hell where shadows writhe,

A demon walks, his heart alive.

His eyes, twin flames, burn with desire,

To find a soul, his dark empire.

The legend had changed, because Jungkook did not live in hell. His empire was situated over this very Earth. He had searched for centuries for that part of him, that part of him that was still alive. That part of his heart that was still beating and that should not fear him. That soulmate that was given to him by fate itself. That soulmate he wanted to claim. That lover he needed to possess.

He felt it when you entered the abandoned castle of arts, the large opera house where he had died many moons ago. He could no longer remember how he stopped being in the land of the living but he had never come across another one of his kind.

He was cursed. To live forever and torment the unfortunate souls of this world. He was cursed. To be alone in his long time punishment. He was cursed, his heart burned to ashes and his power rose from the depths of the earth.

But since you came across his path, Jungkook's punishment became a game for him to play. A game for you to endure.

You had been running endlessly through the infinite halls of the large opera house. Your naked feet were painted in crimson red as they bled with every step you took. You ran, passing through many hallways with many paintings hanging on the walls. You ran and ran, a soft music in the background made the hairs at the back of your neck stand up with nerves, with fear.

Footsteps were heard behind you. Those footsteps that had been chasing you for so long you could no longer remember when was the last time you had actually been outside of this abandoned castle of arts that was now your prison in hell.

"Come out, little dove. I only want to play."

You bit your lip as the words reached your ears. Those words that dripped from the mouth of your captor. The man who chased you to the end of the world, however you doubted he was actually a man.

You hid behind some curtains worn out by time itself. Your hands clenched the fabric of the dirty dress that was only enough to cover your dignity. It made you shiver. From the cold, from the fear. Maybe both, maybe neither.

"(y/n), (y/n). Dearest, (y/n)...STOP HIDING!"

You flinched when his voice boomed around the place you didn't doubt had once been beautiful. Blood oozed from the bite your teeth inflicted over your tender lip and you sniffled, hearing the footstep halt before they began echoing around once more, this time coming closer to you.

Through realms of terror, he roams the night,

Seeking a heart to claim as his right.

A soulmate bound by fate's cruel hand,

To join him in the demon's land.

In fear, you ran once more. As if you could ever leave his poisonous claws. As if you were able to leave that hideous place that played with your mind, with your soul, with your heart and memories as if they were toys at his reach. For him to use as he pleased. 

Curtains hung from the tall ceiling that once had a beautiful pattern painted on it. It made you feel lost. As if you were running in circles. Always lost. With nowhere to go. As if you had ever had a choice. Or better said, as if your choice had been willingly taken by you. 

Because there had once been a choice. A choice you made. A decision you chose. You entered that place by your own will yet your freedom in leaving was never yours to be held in the first place. It made you sick to the stomach, as if a storm was closing in on you and there was no way out of it. No sun ripping through the curtains, no wind blowing the clouds away. 

Jungkook could hear your frantic breathing, your hurried footsteps and suppressed sobs. He could hear your beating heart resonating so strongly in his ears it only sent a chill down his spine at the chase.

He remembered the sweet scent that suddenly invaded his own prison the moment you entered the large opera house. For only the kiss of his soulmate would free him from the shackles of fate, only the purity of the heart would be able to set him free and roam the world as he pleased.

In whispers cold, his voice does call,

A siren's song, a chilling thrall.

He seeks a soul as dark as he,

To walk with him, for eternity.

"Don't you know that I love you, sweet (y/n)? Why do you run from your lover, hmm? If you come to me willingly, it will hurt way less, love."

You ran and ran, ignoring the pain in your feet, the pressure in your chest, the harsh beating of your heart. You weren't going to give up that easily. You weren't going to surrender without fighting back.

The hallways carried so many paintings on the walls. So many paintings of beautiful women. Pictures that you couldn't pay enough attention to. Paintings that resembled absolute fear and sorrow, something you didn't know but felt utterly familiar.

You stopped running when you made it to the main theatre as you stood on the old stage. The wooden beneath your feet was dusted with the remnants of time, broken glass was scattered along the dark wood from the frail chandelier that hung from the ceiling with its crystals tainted in greying dust.

The pain in your feet was ignored as you walked across the stage. You didn't hear Jungkook's maniac laugh, you didn't hear his approaching footsteps or his sick declarations of love. Of obsession. Yet the silence made you even more nervous. You didn't know where you were, you didn't know what day it was. Time had become a foreign concept for you, a thing your mind could no longer grasp.

How long had you been trapped in that hauntingly beautiful place? Has it been hours, days... months? Did people search for you? How about Taehyung, the man who sent you to that place to begin with? Was he wondering why you never came back to work? Was he wondering if you were still working on the story of the broken opera house to publish in his extravagant magazine? Did he even remember your presence or did he keep you around because you never questioned his orders and demands?

But there was no use in blaming others for your current situation because there was nothing to be done. You walked in an almost monotonous way to the centre of the stage, blood staining the ground below your feet as more and more cuts opened your precious skin.

Jungkook watched you from behind the curtains, he watched you wander around the open space. He watched you with haunted eyes glimmering in golden magic that cursed through his veins. He watched you with desire and delicacy. As if you had been crafted into a perfect doll for him to care when all his hands had ever done was to destroy and taint.

Your tears adorned your face like small diamonds over your soft looking skin. He wanted to wipe them and treasure such pearls of pain and fear within him. Your hands trembled as you gazed around you, eyes fixing on the fallen glass on the ground, the broken chandelier that hung from the ceiling and that seemed to snap at any moment, the crusty wood beneath your feet and the old paintings of women around the grand place.

"You don't have to run anymore, little dove."

Beneath the moon's unholy light,

He searches for his love in fright.

Through haunted woods and cursed moors,

His longing heart forever lures.

With a choke gasp you turned around, watching as Jungkook emerged from the back of the stage, the curtains giving him an aura that made you shiver. He took a step forward and you took a step backward. The need to keep as much distance between the being that kept you in his grasp and your own sanity was stronger than your actual fear of him.

"I have waited centuries to finally meet you."

His words only made more tears roll down your cheeks, eyes red and puffy as you glared at him in fear. You took a step as he approached you once more.

"Please..."

Your sweet voice enchanted him like a curse. Desiring to hear you speak once more, he remained silent and listened, taking another step towards you and instinctively you took once back.

"...please, let me go. I p-promise I won't tell anyone about what happened h-here today. I'll never come back and disturb you but, please-"

He laughed, a sound so harmonious it echoes around the empty opera house. You found it alluring, like a siren's song but you had to physically refrain yourself from falling into his arms.

"Do you really think I'll let you go after searching for you through so many lifetimes? You are mine, little dove. Forever mine."

Jungkook smiled, ever so sweetly you felt sick. A smile that got engraved in your memories forever. You shook your head but couldn't look away, taking another step back as he insisted on getting close to you.

"Look around you, love! Look around you and deny me that we aren't meant to be! We are destined, little dove. Tangled by fate. Look! Look around, (y/n)!"

And you did, not hesitating to follow his command with the force in his voice that made you suppress a sob. You looked around, eyes landing on one of the many paintings of the large room. One of the paintings that decorated the dull walls. The paintings that were old and worn out by time. Your eyes widened when you saw it. When you witnessed that the demon in front of you spoke nothing but fact. A sudden realisation dawned upon you and you felt as if you were drowning in a well with nothing to hold on to and nothing to hope for.

Because the lady on the painting cried tears of blood, the lady on the painting resembles your soul. Those were your hands, fisting the fabric of your dress in a deathly grip. Those were your tears rolling down your cheeks. The woman in the picture was the reflection of your soul trapped in a timeless mirror of blood.

"You see now? This whole castle of arts is our sanctuary. Our palace, Queen of mine."

You shook your head, in shock, in rejection. In fear. In anguish. You shook your head as you took step after step backwards even when he wasn't doing anything to get close to you.

Was your fate really next to him? Were you really tangled in such a web of lies you weren't able to escape? Or was he just playing with your mind?

"Stop it, (y/n)."

Jungkook spoke in alarm as he saw you getting closer and closer to the edge of the stage. But you didn't listen, your mind acted on its own in a fragile attempt at getting you away from this nightmare you had fallen into.

"Stop it!"

"Get away from me!"

Your scream resonated all over the place, your feet didn't stop moving until you stood at the edge. The height was enough to hurt you and the sole idea of it made him feel his heart beating, at least for a second or two as you stood on the edge while you faced him with shock written all over your beautiful features.

You took another step and a gasp escaped your lips as the floor disappeared from beneath you. Your eyes closed in instinct and your arms flailed as gravity pulled you down towards the hard ground covered in broken glass that was surely going to break you.

Jungkook acted in an instance, his eyes glowed in golden yellow as his large and black wings spread behind his back and he moved across the stage in less than a second, a path of ice was left behind him, freezing the ground below him, the curtains around the stage and his heart as well as he caught you in his arms before you were to succumb to nature's own force.

But in his quest, he leaves a trail,

Of fear and anguish, deathly pale.

For those who cross his path beware,

The demon's love is naught but despair.

Your eyes met his in a dance of emotions that made you dizzy in its nature. His hands found home on your waist just as your own rested on his forearms. His eyes, ever so beautiful, hid so many secrets you felt curious about yet you wished to remain in the darkness as well.

"I won't leave you. Not after burning in my own grief with your absence. You are the key to my existence, love"

His words pierced your soul like a sharp dagger. You sniffled, breathing in deeply as you found yourself gazing into his golden irises.

"You'll never leave my side."

One of his hands left your waist as it cradled your cheek softly. His touch burned you with an ice cold feeling it made you shiver in his arms whether from the coldness itself or fear of your current position, you really couldn't tell.

"You will learn to love me, (y/n). Just like I have loved you all this time. You'll learn."

Jungkook never broke eye contact with you as he allowed himself to swim in your (e/c) gaze. Your skin under his palm felt soft, the softest he has ever touched in both his lives as a mortal and as a demon of death.

You gulped, wanting to run away from him. Disgusted at his unwanted touch but strangely craving it more. As if you had been deprived of it for so long. Maybe your soul has. Maybe it was your soul that missed him, that missed that other part that was to complete your existence yet your heart and mind rejected that very own idea.

His eyes glowed once more, his wings extending behind him as he looked down at you with his golden eyes that prevented you from looking away. You found yourself enthralled by his magic, his powers and strength.

Your rigid body relaxed in his arms and he suppressed the growing smirk that threatened to appear over his lips. For he had captivated your mind in a glowy golden trance that would allow his freedom.

Jungkook leaned forward and he found no resistance from you so he continued until his lips met yours. His spell had worked over your mind even when your heart was beating wildly against your chest.

He kissed you and golden magic radiated from him. He kissed you and the chains of fate released him. He kissed you and was now a free demon, free to roam the Earth as he pleased. Free to do whatever his heart wanted for as long as you stayed next to him.

He escaped his own jail, that castle of arts was no longer his prison but was now his palace with you as his Queen of darkness.

He kissed you and he tainted you. His golden magic erupted from the very depths of his soul and enveloped you both as he was crowned as the king of darkness, with you as his precious queen.

Forever and always.

For all times to come.

For all lifetimes to last.

And you'll learn to love him, maybe not as much as he loved you. But you'll learn. Eventually. Why shouldn't a Queen love her King? Why wouldn't you love him when he gave you the world to your feet? Why wouldn't you love him when your souls were tangled?

Jungkook would wait. Wait until you'd love him completely, wholeheartedly. Absolutely and undoubtedly. For you were the reason for his black soul and now beating heart. A heart that only beats for you and you alone. His Queen of Darkness.

And when he broke the kiss and your body grew limp in his hold, he carried you in his arms, his wings extended and he flew. He flew to the skies with your body in his hold. He flew away to a place no other mortal knew about. His own palace. His own hell. His kingdom. That place where his home was, that place he’ll share with you. 

Because Jungkook had waited centuries for you to finally find your way to him. He’d wait more if it meant you’ll love him in the end. Another lifetime felt like nothing if he knew you would give him your heart with your very own hands as you wore your crown of darkness, matching with his and ruling his kingdom of evil. 

What was heaven compared to your love? What was light compared to your heart in the night? What was obedience compared to the sins of his own mind? Did it matter? No. It never did. And now that you were finally his to love and cherish for eternity, he could burn the world down for you to smile at him ever so softly and delicately, like an elegant rose with deathly thorns. Like a true queen of his domain. 

His Queen. 

So if you hear his haunting cry,

Beneath the starless, moonless sky,

Beware his love, a twisted fate,

For in his arms, darkness awaits.

January/19/2024

~Masterlist

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[welcometo79s]

just a little love

synopsis: as you're busy reading in your coruscant apartment; fives really craves some attention and affection from you.

contains: fives x gn!reader, kisses, fives being clingy, pure tooth-rotting fluff, self-indulgent [repost after being shadow-banned]

warnings: non-sexual making out. yeah it's a thing. my asexual soul only found out that most people on this cursed earth consider like, french kissing and neck kisses inherently suggestive like 4 weeks ago so if you wanna read it like that, sure. but it's also fiction where i can have whatever i want so just know this was made with the intent of it being SFW romantic fluff and that's how it's written. i hope this isn't too confusing to my allosexual audience, bear with me here.

word count: 2k

The rain seemed to be hitting the windows of your small Coruscant apartment but you paid it no mind. The thick glass shielded you from the relentless storm outside and your nose was buried in your newest novel; an adventure of two mercenaries doing seemingly impossible jobs throughout the galaxy. You had made yourself a cup of tea and the steaming beverage as well as the warm blanket you had thrown over your lap soothed you and helped you focus on the story. You hadn't gotten very far in the book yet; only having just started Chapter 5, but you already had a feeling that this was going to be a good one.

You were about to find out whether the two protagonists would manage to make it to Tython to find an ancient Jedi holocron for their client when you heard sounds coming from the bedroom. You noted that Fives must have woken up. This was his first day on shore leave and as much as he had enjoyed the nice lunch he had shared with you and the holofilm you two watched together, the campaign before had tired him out. So the two of you had laid down in bed and cuddled; Fives having fallen asleep in your arms to the sound of your heartbeat and the soothing motion of your fingertips running up and down his back.

Once you had woken up, you couldn't fall asleep anymore so you opted for finally getting started on that book you bought; getting up quietly as to not wake your favorite ARC Trooper. You had pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and left him to finish his nap, instead sitting down on the living room couch.

But now that Fives was awake, it didn't take long for him to show up in the doorframe, dressed in black pajama shorts and a loose fitted blue 79s shirt he, according to his own words, had won in a Karaoke competition. You gave him a soft smile. "Slept well?", you asked before returning your attention to the datapad you were reading on.

"Hmm... I missed you though", he mumbled and made you laugh with the almost pouting tone in which he said it. He sat down beside you and wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning against you and resting his chin on your shoulder. You could tell right away he was in a clingy mood and when Fives wanted attention, he wasn't exactly subtle. The way he had basically slumped against you with his whole body weight and attempted to snuggle up to you, despite your sitting position and the way you were holding that datapad making it pretty difficult, had already given you an idea of his current state.

But when you continued reading instead of putting the datapad aside and giving him the affection he was looking for, Fives decided he had to dial it up a notch. "Cyare...", he started carefully, turning his head on your shoulder to press a few soft kisses to your neck that tickled you, "you know I'm only on leave for a couple of days... then they're putting me back in the danger roulette with all the separatists, clankers and evil alien machines that want to kill me."

He sat up and and put a finger to your chin, turning your head towards him and pecking your lips gently. "You're the only thing I look forward to when I'm on leave... well besides not having to fear for my life", he continued and you let out a sigh. Fives nuzzled your cheek, leaving a few kisses on your skin every once in a while. You paid him no mind. There was however a subtle smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You couldn't deny that you liked Fives being a little clingy and sappy sometimes.

Fives wondered whether you had understood that he craved your affection. "Can I kiss you?", he asked and poked your other cheek with his pointer finger, resting his chin on your shoulder once more. "I really want to kiss you."

You wrapped an arm around his shoulder, gently running a hand through his hair. "Believe it or not, I got that cyare", you chuckled and your tone softened a little. "Let me just finish up this chapter. Shouldn't take more than 10 minutes."

Fives' response to that was attempting to sit down on your lap, pushing your datapad closer to your face due to the proximity. You looked up from the device and gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, raising your eyebrows. "You're a pain, you know that?"

He chuckled. "You don't mean that."

You let out a sigh and handed him the datapad. "Can you put this on the table for me?"

There was a triumphant smirk on his face when Fives took the item from you and leaned back, turning slightly to place the datapad on the living room table behind him. Once he had turned towards you again, he inched closer to you on your lap and you snuck your arms around his waist, pulling him flush to your chest. You could feel his weight on your legs, knowing he was technically too heavy for you to keep him here for long, but you tried to brush that thought aside.

Fives was so close to you now that you could feel his breath on your lips and he smiled at you softly; a loving gaze in his eyes before he cupped your face with his hands and pressed his lips to yours. You closed your eyes and kissed back immediately, slowly and lightly pecking his lips with your own. You could feel his lower lip slightly tremble under yours and you went to gently pluck on it with your lips. Fives let out a content sigh and pressed a more firm kiss to your mouth, then your cheek and several spots along your jawline.

"I love you so much...", he mumbled between kisses, making you smile at him.

"I love you too", you responded quietly, pulling him in for another round of kisses to his lips, your tongue gently sliding over his bottom lip and being met with a sweet taste. You pulled away for a moment, smirking at Fives. "Are you wearing lip balm?"

Fives chuckled slightly. "Had to. How else am I supposed to convince you to keep kissing me?"

"What makes you think I'd say no to that?", you pressed another soft kiss to his lips and Fives went in for another two as soon as you pulled away.

"You just did", he responded, thinking back to you reading on the couch.

"No, I said 'wait a second'", you reminded him and Fives grinned.

"If we spend all our time waiting, life passes us by", he proudly proclaimed and you rolled your eyes.

"Do not give me words of wisdom to justify your abysmal lack of patience", you laughed and Fives chuckled as well. "What flavor is this anyway? The lip balm?"

"It said bubblegum peach on the package", he answered and you shook your head with a smile at the mental image of the 501st elite ARC Trooper, slayer of battle droids, walking into a drug store and buying something called 'bubblegum peach lip balm' just to kiss you later. Then again, that was something Fives would do. "Do you like it?"

You pondered the question for a moment, chuckling to yourself. "Jury's still out on that one", you teased and pulled him close again, pressing your lips flush against his before opening your mouth slightly. Fives' plucked at your lower lip gently before his tongue slid in to meet yours in a loving, slow kiss. You felt a fluttering sensation in your stomach and Fives wrapped his arms around your neck, the motion lifting his shirt a little. You shifted the position of your arms and wrapped them around his exposed midriff, your fingers gently drawing circles onto his sides; something you had learned did not tickle him in the slightest.

Fives kissed you slowly but passionately, pouring all his love for you into the gesture and you knew what he tried to convey without him needing to say anything. He had missed you. You had felt the same way while he was away on the campaign. This was him making up for all the times you both had been laying alone in bed at night, wishing to be able to hold the other. Fives already called you every day if possible, sneaking out of the barracks at night in secret to contact you and let you know that he was okay; that he loved you and thought about you. You thought about his brothers and wondered what they would think if they could see him sometimes; sitting on your lap like this and kissing you tenderly over and over again. The difference from seeing him decapitate droids in battle was probably jarring.

You smiled against his lips at the thought, almost letting out a chuckle as Fives attempted to snuggle even closer to you, his tongue moving against yours in a gentle motion. You didn't know how long you remained like this. It was easy to lose track of time when Fives was all you could focus on and he kissed you like you were his favorite thing in the galaxy. He said you were, at least. You vaguely remembered him having followed that up with listing "beds that don't feel like concrete" and "fruity mocktails at 79s" for second and third place.

Sometimes it felt like you could go on like this forever, getting lost in the sensation of his kisses and forgetting about the rest of the galaxy; about the war. For those few days you spent together when he was on leave, a future where the two of you didn't have to worry about keeping secrets and fighting battles seemed almost in reach. You pulled away after a while, noticing how your legs were beginning to feel a little numb from the weight of carrying Fives and you gestured him to lay down.

Once he had done that, you snuggled close to him on the couch, pressing a few lazy kisses to his lips before Fives lifted his head to press one to your forehead, his nose brushing against yours as he did so. You slid down a little to rest your head against his chest, burying your face in the fabric of his shirt. For something they gave away at a Karaoke competition in a clone bar, the shirt was of surprisingly good quality and soft; the comforting sensation made complete by the warmth that Fives radiated. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, resting his chin on top of your head.

"I still can't believe I'm this lucky", you mumbled and felt his chest rising and falling with every breath. Fives chuckled softly.

"I feel the same way sometimes. A lot of times actually", he had a content smile on his lips and closed his eyes, enjoying holding you in his arms like this. "Want to continue that holofilm later we started on my last leave but never finished?"

You shrugged. "I honestly didn't like that one that much", you admitted and Fives grinned as an idea hit him.

"Then how about a Fives original?", he chuckled and looked at you with a mischievous smile. "Do you want to see Hardcase and Jesse look for the hidden stash of gold from a pirate group in the freezer of 79s? They made me promise not to show the recording to any of our brothers but you're not one of my brothers, so..."

You laughed. "I don't think they'd appreciate if you showed their drunk misadventures to me though."

Fives sighed. "Yeah they wouldn't... still, do you want to see it? I made it a montage and put funny music over it too."

You chuckled and smirked up at him. "Are you kidding? Of course I want to see it."

[anantaru]

SNEAKY DEVIL

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — being with your ex on a friday night surely was the last thing you had in mind.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 2.1k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, play toxic by britney spears, ex! boyfriend kuni, slight yan ?? a sprinkle, he‘s not accepting the break up, this is the part two of my kuni angst fic — ꒰ part one ꒱

"would you look at yourself."

for each aspect, when there was good, there was also evil.

yet in his taunting eyes, it seemed as if there was only darkness, no light or anything that would hint at the fact that scaramouche might be a good person after all.

and as for you?

the embarrassment you had felt each time you let him stumble back into your life was burning through the entirety of your skin, greedily gnawing itself onto your heart from within.

before anything, how did it come to this point in your life again?

the reason .. well, you couldn‘t explain it yourself, even if you tried.

if you haven‘t figured it out yet as on to why you keep coming back, keep opening the door for him and letting him stay, knowing full on well it‘ll only end in the same gruesome, disgusting outcome again— it's safe to say you won't ever have an answer to your questions.

not all stars shine equally bright, and you knew, that kuni in particular was never going to give you a glowing future.

"s-shut up."

a myriad of moans and low whines filled the space in between your bodies as you barked back at his usual belittling tone— that he‘d always gather around when he was especially fed up with you.

"if only your past self could see you right now." to the corners of his mouth, a smirk cradled his lips, one that was menacing and proud of himself, proud to get the person he so called loved, in such a humiliating position.

he‘s lowering his head down while roughly burying his stiff cock further into your pussy until fully sheathed, your lips ghosting over one another, "to even have the nerve to break up with me in the first place."

his face adorned with an unflinching, serious expression, suddenly groaning as you involuntarly clenched down on him, "and now you‘re letting yourself get fucked like a bitch in heat." he pauses subsequently to messily brush away the single tear that lonely spilled down your warm cheek.

"fucked by me." his ferocious, melodic voice was vibrating into the depths of your skin, anchoring your soul.

"it‘s not like that!" you panic, each of his words were sharply cutting through your heart and feelings.

with the world falling down on your shoulders, into place, who were you trying to persuade with this?

scaramouche or simply yourself?

he wiped his hair strands— which were sticking onto his forehead, back, his skin, being illuminated much paler by the faint glow of the night, enhancing and further amplifying his damned beauty— that would always keep on mesmerizing you.

"then tell me how it is, hm?" each of his arms were carefully placed next to your head, trapping you with his body. Yet however, if you didn‘t know any better, he would‘ve given the impression that he actually cared, with the way his voice slightly softened.

pseudo innocently, scaramouche had began to observe your face, as if to wait for an actual response from you.

in retrospect, it was now clear that the whole, bloody situation you found yourself in, together with this— so called relationship, was far too complicated for your own good, anyones good, that is.

you didn‘t respond to him, a little nervous, when you averted your eyes. In fact, you weren‘t quite fond of the idea to voice anything at all.

your panicked thoughts held a significant clasp on you— sceaming internally. And although you felt slight menacing terror in his voice, with a sharp cutting panic in your throat— said attributes weren't even the worst parts of the current state of your affairs.

because in reality, you somehow enjoyed this. Not the considerable amount of pain he‘d inflict on you through words, but the familiar, once loved, tenderness of him.

you‘d lie to yourself if you‘d say you didn‘t miss him at least once or twice, sometimes even fantasizing back at the times you were intimate with each other, both stroking and pleasuring your bodies throughout the whole night until the morning sun approached you through the windows, rattling your skins awake.

you do not speak, unable to do so. Scaramouche intentionally fucked himself so far up your sore cunt that you could barely hold onto the bedsheets yourself, your drenched and swollen pussy violently gushing around his girth, his eyes beaming with self satisfied pride.

"thought so." he says nonchalantly, as if trying to prove his point.

your hands fell to your sides, just the precise thrusts of him, the targeting of your surging spots insides, caused you tumble over your own moans, mewling when he claimed you, all of you.

scaramouche switched to a tight, heavy grip, rapidly shoving his stiff heavy member past your aching hole, a feral pace, back and forth, his cock head kissing the deepest ends of your sensitivity.

you can feel his hand roam through your hips, caress your shaking body and slide over your natural curves. Your erected nipples repeatedly rubbed over his hard chest, gratifying the painful ache in your breasts.

scaramouche was quick to collect one in his palm, roughly mashing the mound of flesh in combination with the relentless push of his hips, the muscles in your core quivering.

"f-fuck, you don't even want to now how much i missed that." he shamelessly admitted, "how much i dreamed about fucking you again." mumbling the affirmations straight against your pouted lips and expanding a heavy pant once your mushy cunt forcibly squeezed down on him, dashingly gyrating around his imposing girth.

it was clear as day that he'd never get fully satisfied or satiated by fucking you anymore, the time apart you had spent were a torturous living hell to scaramouche, like a racking broken record that couldn't be fixed, playing a boring, lifeless song, over and over again.

however, you weren't going to give him what he wants, never, hopelessly trembling over your own words as you spoke.

"just, f-fuck— just shut up and fuck me." that's all it took you to bring him spiraling, a little faster as he suddenly mercilessly jolted into you with the obscene squelching noises leaving nothing left to the imagination.

for a second he observed the spot in between your in sweat soiled bodies, how disgustingly wet and filthy, a complete mess, he thought to himself. You were so exposed, bare and open for him, unrestrainedly dirtying his entire length with your slick, sloppily milking his drumming cock.

"i-if that's how you want to play this game." he promptly pauses, driving his erection impossibly deep into your squelching mess and grinding down, wiggling his hips the moment he was fully settled which caused you to mewl out achingly, moaning at every new hit.

your chest rattled with a shaky breath, the control of your body slowly but surely fading away into the pits of hell, shoving down the last remnants of self control you had stored in you.

"that's right." scaramouche coos upon seeing you struggle, cupping your cheeks and gently brushing his rough thumb over your slightly pouted lips, his loins on fire as he caught a glimpse of a single tear desperately hanging on your lashes, spilling at last. "i'm the only one who can make you feel this way."

you were trying to speak, anything, just something but he shushes you, soothes you and carries on to grind down, his facial expression almost reminding of a mocking tone, breathlessly smacking through your clenching hole that was brutally clasping around his girth.

"you're cruel." you managed to whisper, "you're so cruel." a sad heave in your voice.

those words reverberated along his bones and in his blood, forcing a numerous amount of groans through his gnawed teeth, moaning with every swallow of you.

the delicious pleasure rushed through your blood and grew the fire in your cheeks. Scaramouche lowered his head to starvingly seek your mouth, roughly plastering his hungry lips on top of yours to sloppily kiss you.

you're clinging onto him as you returned his plea, teeth colliding against each other when he drew himself away, "i'm cruel because i love you." the entry of it all rendered you speechless, your tears now fully dripping down the corners of your eyes, pouring down your skin.

reality is brought into sharp focus when you perceived the deeply intertwined bubble in your belly and how it was about to pop soon. With the curve of his lengthy cock, thickly hanging inside of you, scaramouche had an easy task to hit every so little swollen spot in within your velvety walls, eagerly rubbing them.

he's jerking himself slower and tantalizing, signalizing that he too, was close to his euphoric release. The scrutiny of pleasure was intoxicating and thick, your mouth gaping open but nothing came out, words without sounds, silent cries of your orgasm chasing your body.

you're screaming and convulsing on his cock, guzzling him dry with your sweet pussy— that he felt so squishy and soft inside of, it almost brought him to tears.

he's pulling you close, further, greedy for friction and release, scaramouche clasped onto you tighter with every new force of his hips, declaring your entire being as his, the power of his authority agonizingly searing.

the underlying sick bliss of his member filling you, his hand rubbing your erected nipple while you were fully emerged in suckling on his tongue, working around his wet muscle and tasting his saliva, a desperate ache pulsing in between.

you tipped your head back and let him hold you, in tandem, thrumming his hips into the right places in your insides. You sensed it, felt it, how he twitched in you and was about to unload his cum, your thighs already shining with wetness.

each pulse and tingle of his cock, unlocked a spasming sensation in your core, limbs tangling and hopelessly hanging onto each other as you collapsed, the smell of sex hurtling in the air of the thick room and amplifying your strong, tremendous release.

"f-fuck, fuck!" you're blurting out through impenetrable panting, moaning with your back rounded up to meet his relentless pace, your toes curling inwards as your entire body shuddered in both vibrations and the feeling of letting go, shaking at the overstimulation with the repeating press of his cock on your heat never giving you rest.

at the constant gushing and clenching of your tight cunt, scaramouche threw his head back and tore a current of groans off his throat, "archons-" he's whining out, the sounds breaking in the middle, "you always— always feel so incredible, fuck."

he's speeding up, muttering in your neck as he fully blew his load in you, your legs secured around his waist as he proceeded to greedily pump his warm seed in the deepest ends of your slicked up cunt, shivering with the overcoming stir.

his drunkened gaze caught his mess, his white ribbons smearing over the aching flesh of your drained walls as the thick globules of his cum began to gush out of your hole, drenching the damp sheets under you.

"say you love me." he's whispering of a sudden, his musky scent collapsing over you, "say it."

your body closely pounded to his to hide your face in his shoulder but scaramouche was eager to gather you in his palms, still able to perceive the wet, tired clench of your muscles on his half erected cock.

he's slumping on you, minutes passing with none of you building up enough strength to back away, "p-please." scaramouche kissed the corners of your lips, he was begging you, waiting and swallowing your name in between whimpers.

"i love you, i do." you hummed weakly with your response, without knowing if you really meant it. Maybe it was the pressure you felt, or the way he looked at you through his puppy eyes, or simply the fact that you were utterly tired of going against him constantly, whenever you both found each other again.

he seemed trapped in a daze with his eyes sparkling upon hearing you, so far off and unable to move, not that he wanted to.

this situation afterwards felt like torture, unanswered questions, the tangible ways of it both hurtful but entrancing. He's tucking you to his lips to flood his tongue into your mouth, as if he didn't want this situation to end.

not only because he felt relaxed with you, pleased by your presence and comfortable on top of you, no, it was also because scaramouche couldn't articulate himself very well.

he wasn't looking forward to another fight, one that would always break out the moment you had finished being intimate, had finishing loving you and came back crushing down to the thing everyone knew as the so called reality.

you weren‘t possibly able to run away from the consequences, the truth, and he wasn‘t either, because believe him when he says, scaramouche had tried to run away from his fate, so many times, that he cannot even remember all of it.

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[tookthe-405]

VBS

Prologue :

“Sun bleached Flies” ~ Ethel cain

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rebel!ellie x fem!reader

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summary: you grew up religious without a choice, and in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp always felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

c/w: smut in future chapters!!! , religious trauma, homophobia

1,1 k words

24/11/2004

Age 16 Reader pov:

"And as the Bible says in Micah 7:7: But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my savior, my God will hear me"

Your eyes burn, not because you are crying, but because of the very bright spotlights that are shining on Pastor Tobias. The youth lesson takes place every Wednesday evening and today's topic is faith and trust.

The paper and pen in your hand feels heavy and rough, you should have already written down what you’ve learned new, but your head is just so empty today.

As it has been so often in the last few weeks, which makes you feel guilty and ashamed again. You stare at the blank page and don't feel anything, that you could put into words and on paper. You can think of many questions that you would like to ask, but are too embarrassed for.

"hey is everything ok?"

your head follows the whispers next to you. Hazel looks at you worried. This girl is the only reason you enjoy being here, and there is no judgment in her look.

“I’m a bit stuck on this today” you whisper back and point at the empty paper, she nods.

you could feel the eyes of the employes. When sermons are held it is always very quiet and all these people you grew up with are listening to the man in front of you, the faintest whispers can be heard. You quickly concentrate again and look ahead.

"We're closing the sermon today with a prayer and the requests that you gave us"

On the board next to him are various prayer requests that the young people brought to the lesson. But a few of them catch your eye more than the others.

- Please release me from the shame within me - Let me grow with your word - The temptations of the evil one shall not harm me

The prayer lasts 7 minutes and your mind keeps wandering. When you pray, you always forget where you are and feel a bit stuck in your head. That's why you've given up the habit of closing your eyes, which helps you to ease the restlessness in which your inner self is bursting. You can't get rid of it at anyway. You observe the people around you a bit. You know every face all too well, the reason for that includes going to a the private Christian school and the many prayer evenings that your parents and siblings like to attend to.

When praying, each face shows a small part of the person. Some look deep in thought, others look as if they were about to burst into tears at any second and one or the other sit on their seats with a contented and calm expression on their faces. You would give a lot to feel whatever they are feeling.

Hazel's expression reminds you of a frightened animal that has just been captured. She was one of the fearful prayers.

All you wanna do, is try to get her out of this state and keep her safe with you, but you know that you can't do that for her. Only the god she prays to can do that.

"Amen"

“Amen” everyone says together and the word leaves your lips quietly.

Everyone stands up from their seats and whispers spread. You know all these people and you knew from your private life that some of them weren't good people, but the church seemed to change that completely. At least for a short time. As soon as the free time begins, you notice that the facades are falling again. This has always confused you a bit.

Two years ago, so many people were converted here, that the church was rebuilt and there were now many different rooms for different concerns. There was the sermon Hall, which is full every Sunday and is used for worship services. There is also a kitchen and dining room with couches. One floor higher was the room for the young people, which is used every Wednesday to pray, study and spend time together. A few couches and many chairs with tables.

The whole youth group is there and a few people start to play games. Some have a religious background, some don't.

After the sermon, you and Hazel go from the sermon hall to the youth room, where a few people from your class have already made themselves comfortable on the couch and seats. At school you always talk to Hazel, who is a very social person and that's why you are forced to talk to other people as well.

Samuel and another boy are talking as you both sit down on chairs, and the whole group seems interested in the conversation.

"My mother said that, Pastor Tobias told her on Sunday"

"What's going on?" Hazel's gentle voice asks Samuel.

He excitedly turns away from the other boy and addresses Hazel.

"My mother said that we were going to a camp this summer, we young people, there was a lake, forest, church, everything"

“Do we have to camp?” Asks Kate, a girl in a class below you.

The thought of having to go camping immediately puts you off, but you'd have to go anyway if it actually takes place.

After all, Samuel talks a lot but it doesn't always reflect reality.

"She said there is a youth hostel with lots of rooms, but they are shared."

You could live with that. Hazel nudges you with a smile. Now the excitement hits you too, if you and Hazel are in the same room together, swimming in the lake all day long and there were going to be funny events, it will definitely be pretty fun.

You smile back excitedly and the other people around you seem to be looking forward to it too.

“Have you heard of Anne Marie’s husband?”

The group becomes quiet and looks at Sofia, with a thoughtful look and crossed arms.

"A few people from church mentioned something but I don't think it's true," Naveah says next to her and rolls her eyes, but Sofia shakes her head confidently and leans forward.

“My brother said it was true, he was there at the prayer meeting for him” Naveah’s face falls and that made you a little nervous.

"what?" ask someone, but you won't know who.

"They prayed that his homosexual desires would disappear"

The room generally seems to become a little quieter; the other groups of friends also seemed to have heard the word, which had probably never been uttered here before.

The tense atmosphere spreads through the room like poison and you hold your breath.

" I didn`t knew he had such disgusting thoughts"

you are too shocked to notice who said it, but you still clearly hear the others agree.

“The sin is disgusting, but we should pray for him,”

Austin decides, but his gaze seems a little concernt.

After the prayer you feel emptier than before, almost as if you had been sucked dry. Your thoughts left more marks and you knew what you would pray for tonight before you went to sleep.

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a/n: this is a bit more angsty and can trigger some people so pls read the warnings!! I felt a bit uncomfortable too writing it, but it’s still important to talk and write about it, because it is reality!!!

!!!Pls Reblog and like!!!