#also you COULD open it with brute strength if you wanted

[chthonicrose]

I saw a post about working for a haunted house and for some reason it reminded me of when I used to work for an escape room place, and then because I only have one thought anymore, now I am thinking about crowley and aziraphale doing an escape room and how extremely bad they would be at it

crowley squinting at the fireplace like 'this is fake. it definitely comes open. I'm gonna pull on it.' and aziraphale like 'my dear boy they told us nothing in the room required brute strength' but he tried to use the wrong key on the gun safe and broke it off in the lock and had to discreetly miracle it back together. also he's professionally offended at how little the book safe looks like a real book.

[bruh-anator3000]

im obsessed with the Black Cat, I hope that's clear, too. and Miguel. And Logan and Wade, so what if we mashed them all up in a blender and see what happens?

Edit: I didn't mean for this one to get so out of hand, but it did, so its a short story now I guess.

Warnings: sexual themes, hella suggestive, SPOILERS HINTED from the new Deadpool, tension sexy styles, I might get Gambit '97 involved so we can listen to '4 big guys' for part two, it is a love triangle/square, trust and don't worry. Everyone's bisexual. No pronouns for reader used, but written w fem!reader in mind, that's why I'm saying bisexual, but this could just be gay for my amabs.

Parinings: Black Cat!reader x Miguel O'Hara x Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson (uh-huh. I said what I said)

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

Like, you didn't want to bring your roommates along with you for this heist. God. You didn't even want their sticky fingers on the paper plans. But you were running low on rent, Blind Al was a bitch now that they suspended her coke supply, and your normal crew got sick!

Dr. Boris Korpse was the smartest man alive. He could hack any system, jimmy any lock, and blew the ones he couldn't up. Bruno wasn't the brightest, but he was the bravest. And he had the muscles to prove it. He was a great getaway driver, too. And they were sick.

Wade was smart... enough. Logan was... decently strong. Logan was more of a brute, actually. Careless with his strength when it came to it, but trusting Wade Wilson to drive you home safe? With his self destructive streak? It was safer to have him do the code cracking. Hopefully.

"I wonder how many people caught the earlier exposition is from the actual comics," Wade grunted under his mask, typing in a special security code into the keypad.

Looking around with furrowed brows, he did realize it was just you three, right? You glanced at Logan, wondering if he understood what Deadpool was saying. He only gave a slight shake of his head.

"It's a quick in and out," You reminded the two, walking past the gates as the hissed open, thanks to Wilson. How he knew the password so easily, you didn't know. He said something about 'writer being too lazy to build up to the reveal,' which made it 'easier to follow if he just knew.'

Logan grunted as he followed. It frightened you how well he could retain the plans you've gone over so many times this week. It was great for him, and for you! But also sucked, because they guy replacing your 'smart guy' still needed a refresher.

You take your stance beside the large bars hiding the painting. Idly looking around while Logan let out a primal roar as he pried the gap between the metal bars wider.

"I bet that's what it sounds like when you're close, huh?" Wade snickered, pinching the yellow fabric on his hips. You cringed for several reasons. Wade's constant immaturity. And, God's above, Logan's ridiculous outfit.

Honoring the X-men or not, the yellow was as bright as a trafficlight.

You slipped through the widened gap now, ignoring Wade's whistle behind you. "You do realize this is supposed to be a silent mission?" You sneered, now on the other side of the enclosure.

Wade shrugged. "Don't worry, peaches. Nothing bad ever happens to the sexy ones. Logan might get left behind, but you and me?" His mask hid the way he bit his lip and winked. It looked like he was just staring at you.

"Alright." You sighed and moved on. That was the best way to handle these two. They gave you no other choice. I mean, you could give in and fuck them, but you were planning to save that for later if they did a good job tonight.

With the painting carefully removed, the bars bent back in place, and Wade managing to keep his pants on for a few minutes, all that was left to do was leave. You had Logan carry the painting as you all ran back to the World War 1 exhibit - the way you entered through.

You made sure the two were in front of you the entire time. You couldn't risk them getting lost, their bulk and dead brains might break something if you weren't watching them carefully. And the red and blue lights glowing as you ran past were not any help.

You stopped dead in your tracks. That wasn't your normal bisexual lighting. There were no sirens, either.

You jogged back a few paces, stopping by the archway of one of the many halls in the museum. Face to face with the digital glow of a blue and red mask.

"Hey Spider," Grinning softly, you leaned on the doorway. The Spider-Man hung upside-down on his red wire webs, per usual. You didn't need to see his sexy face to see that stoic pout he always wore.

"Good evening." He greets in that deep voice, hinting with an accent you loved. The red outlines of his eyes squinting as you boop his nose. "Are we really going to do this tonight?" He scowls, and you swoon.

He flips down, landing on his feet. Broad shoulders and thin waist beautifully extenuated by the suit that was more code than fabric. Towering over you, red blades on the back of his forearms.

"At least take your mask off," You taunt. To which he does. When has Miguel ever denied that request? As infuriating as it was, it was also a very freeing day when the two of you finally put the suits aside and fu- talked. In bed.

His brown curls looked neat today. Dark red eyes watching your every move. That pout on his sharp angled face was too cute. He was so grumpy all the time.

He glances behind you, leaning over slightly to look at the damage you've done. "Portrait of Madame X?" He notes the missing piece of work. Thick brow arching in suspicion.

You shrug. "She's an idol of mine." An idol worth 20 million to your buyer. But he didn't need to worry his pretty little head about the details.

"Do you want a 10 second head start?" He offers, placing a hand by your head and leaning in. Keeping you between his hard chest and the wall. His lips parted with a slight smirk.

"Bub, where'd you go?" Logan's gruff voice grows closer. Wade skipping alongside him. Both of them stopping dead in their tracks at the sight of Miguel.

His mask quickly ripples into place and he steps back, snarling. "Who are you?" His eyes dart to the painting you were supposed to be stealing, in some other man's hold. Keeping his body towards and more in between to block you from the other two, he snarls.

"I am soaking wet right now." Wade groans softly, admiring this little stand off. He wasn't kidding, Spider-Man had been in his 'hit' list for a few years now.

Miguel bristles, back going tense. And as great of a view that was, you knew it meant trouble.

"No, they're with me." Grabbing his broad and beefy shoulder, you push him back. Accidentally putting yourself in the middle of this odd triangle you've created.

Miguel glowers at you. "My regulars were out. I needed an extra hand." You shrug it off. That's all they were. Extra hands. In a heist. You totally weren't going to make out with them on the car ride home.

Tension thick, your shoulders weigh down as you look at all three of the men. A tinge of embarrassment hits you as you realize how similar their figures looked. You definitely had a type.

Wade breaks it up, or attempts to with another sentence you don't exactly understand. "Jesus, if the writer would get over themselves, I would fuck you two so hard." He gestures to Logan and Miguel. Earning an angry grunt from both of them that just seems to further his excitement.

"I'm so pissed we have to wait for a part two."

"Part two? Of what?" You raise a brow, looking at Wade.

He waves a hand. They don't get it.

...

But you do. And if you want a part two, please let me know! This was just an idea festering (that got out of hand a little) and I'm not sure what to make with it just yet. I also need a title for this, so if you guys have any suggestions, please let me know. Love you!

[witchthewriter]

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 𝑫𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐.

⤷ gender neutral, Valyrian blood (dragon rider), and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: so I realised I didn't exactly go with the 'how they show their love'. Instead, I've changed it to general headcanons w/ your bonded dragon (because I can talk about a whole lot more!)

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐅𝐘𝐑𝐄

・Also known as 'The Mother of Dragons', her pale blue scales shone with silver detailing, giving an almost shimmering appearance.

・30% Aggressive, 35% Loving, 15% Graceful, 20% Wise

・A mother hen sometimes; won't fly until you've had something to eat, you MUST have your water satchel at all times

・Her favourite food is lamb, she cannot stand pig. Even if there isn't anything else to eat, she would rather starve. You have no idea why she's like that.

・LOVES the water, absolutely adores waterfalls in particular. That's where she likes flying off to.

・It's mind-blowing to see a dragon swim, a lizard-like head bobbing up and down. Making happy noises as she floats in the crystal-like water

・She's actually one of the dragons who does like to collect things. In can range from precious jewels to gold to shells to things she's found while swimming

・You bring her things if you've been away (she doesn't like when you don't visit her at least daily)

・But she forgives you when she sees the sack full of *things*

𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐒

・Known as 'The Red Queen,' in her youth, she was the fastest dragon in all of Westeros.

・When she was younger, and being trained; she excelled. So much so, that others wondered if she could become the next Balerion.

・Because it isn't just about brute strength, but understanding commands, connecting with what needs to be done etc. Some dragons learn the art of war, and others just ... participate in wars.

・That's why your father pushed you so hard to train. It wasn't to experience difficult situations, but to understand how Meleys would react to them. And in turn, she learned how you react.

・You and Meleys became known for your victories, for if there is a battle, or even a war, you and Meleys are called in.

・Meleys does not like to be touched by anyone but you - so you're the one who bathes her, who tends to her wounds.

・Meleys is very graceful, and likes to be preened. Especially the crown of thorns that grow from her head. With each year they seem to get stronger and larger.

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐒

・The most unique-looking dragon to ever exist in Westeros. And you love that about him.

・His elongated neck is one of your favourite features about him (he was a bit insecure about it when he was younger. His appearance freaked out not only other people, but the other dragons. Who basically shunned him

・He wasn't allowed in the Dragonpits because too many wanted to fit him.

・But Syrax, she was his only friend. Well, besides you...Well, you're his family.

・Both of you are loners, but intimidating loners. That's how you became the most formiddable pair. All that time together.

・Because then you started to move in connection with one another. Like magnets. Foreseeing each other's decisions, and being able to react; this connection makes it so easy to win battles.

・Even against other dragons and dragonriders, they just don't seem to be on your level.

・Caraxes is very warm, moreso than the other dragons as well. It may be because of his colouring, the fact that his fire is also so hot it melts men in armour where they stand. It might also be because his neck changes how his fire sits within him.

・Either way, it makes for a great help in the Winter when you're shivering, while in the clouds, flying.

𝐒𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐗

・Willful and stubborn, Syrax doesn't like flying unless the weather is nice.

・She LOVES being doted upon. Call her a good girl and she's yours.

・However, she does have a quick temper

・And doesn't like her limits pushed

・Understands when something is important, i.e., when she has to be used as a weapon (she likes using her fire - bit of a pyromaniac)

・She shows her love by flying you to the outlands of King's Landing or Dragstone. You love being near the water, with the sun beating down on you.

・Syrax is impatient though and you have to find a place where she can fall asleep underneath shade

・Snorts when she scares someone

・Syrax HATES when she gets dirty, and demands to be bathed every day

・Training her was actually a nightmare. She has the capacity to learn a lot but just doesn't have the ambition

・She had to be bribed with food, basically all the time.

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄

・More of an introverted personality. Doesn't care for warfare, but trains when he has to. But when it comes to you, he will fight til the very end.

・Extremely loyal, doesn't like being away from you for very long

・And is the second best looking dragon in all of Westeros

・But you always tell him that he's the prettiest boi the world has ever seen

・The difference between Sunfyre and Seasmoke is that Sunfyre knows he's a hottie and loves the attention. Seasmoke doesn't care for the cheers of the crowd

・Seasmoke is a lot less self-indulged

・He does love being near the water. Definitely has Pisces energy about him.

・The pink frills behind his neck are very ticklish and once nearly shook you off because you wouldn't stop tickling them.

・He prefers to eat fish over anything

・And you actually made him a pearl necklace from all the oysters he finds while diving into the ocean

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐘𝐑𝐄

・The most beautiful dragon to ever grace Westeros.

・Known as 'Sunfyre the Golden.'

・Well that's what the Maesters had written in the history records

・Sunfyre is very stunning

・With gleaming gold scales that seem to create sunspots when the sun hits them

・His wings are pink entwined with gold. Pearlescent white showing here and there.

・Crowds flock to see Sunfyre

・And both you and Sunfyre love flying above those crowds, hearing the cheers as you swoop low and show off

・However, even though he loves being complimented, he mostly just wants to be loved. Adored. He hates being on his own, and absolutely loves when you sleep beside him.

・He will tug on your clothes when he's bored; but one time he accidentally bit you and you were so grumpy with him.

・To make up for it, he had brought back a dead sheep (in dragon language that means " I'm sorry " )

𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍

・One of the younger dragons, she is known as 'The Blue Queen.' Her name is after a Valyrian goddess. One of power and glory.

・But you just know her as Tess, and she nudges you whenever you do so

・She's your best friend, and you're hers.

・For a dragon, she's very reliable and down to earth (major metaphorical sense for the latter)

・Her appearance is nearly completely blue, with touches of pearlescent white on her horns. Her eyes are a glowing blue as is her flame.

・Very good around children, and has actually allowed one to touch her snout.

・Has a thirst for adventure and you show your love by allowing her her freedom

・Never chaining her in the dragonpit, your only command is not to go too far when she might be needed.

・She actually loves flying at night, and keeps herself steady so you can watch the stars

[pocketramblr]

If ask game still up:

Au where One for All works like Doctor Who regeneration

Oh this gripped me

1- Yoichi died in the vault. His brother got too busy and far to make sure Yoichi ate, and he starved. He didn't stay dead.

Yoichi fades in golden energy, and then is in a new body: an angry body, a soldier's body, a body that can fight. His hair is vibrant and spiky, and doesn't look related to AfO anymore. He tears himself out of the vault and runs.

2- AfO kills the Second life of his brother, thinking this will force him back. Instead, he regenerates again. His hair is longer and lighter, but he's still strong and a fighter. This body is built for balance though, technique and not brute strength. The Third life of Yoichi remembers, and runs while his brother is distracted. He continues to fight, but he's smarter about it. Living so long will teach you that. When he's injured, he knows he can't get to a hospital. He limps into the woods to die instead, in the open air and under the sun, not a vault or battlefield.

3- his Fourth life starts young and lasts longer. He wants peace. He can sense danger, now, and he thinks if he had this earlier he would have never been trapped by his brother. But he also can't help himself from fighting, and eventually he leaves the safety of his hermit life. He's in awe to see heroes on the street, and distracted just long enough to let a villain kill him. This time, when the gold fades, his Fifth body is that of a confident hero who here to help.

4- he meets his brother again, who thought Yoichi was lost forever. AfO doesn't know it's him, until he tries to take blackwhip, such an interesting quirk. But he can't, so he tosses the hero aside and snaps his neck. He sees the glow start again and runs to get closer. This time, Yoichi regenerates into yet another hero body- but one who can hide, and his vision is obscured by smoke before he can reach him. Yoichi escapes.

5- On his seventh life, he regenerates into a very different body, but finds it's not as dysphoric as he'd have expected. He decides he could take gender or leave it either way, but it's quite nice to be pretty again. She falls in love, and is sure her brother won't find her in this body, he didn't see the last regeneration. But somehow, he catches AfO's attention anyway, annoying him in just the way siblings can. She's killed, and even in the bright light if the explosion, AfO would know that gold anywhere, a younger hero boy darting out to grab Torino and flee. This is Yoichi's eighth time around, and he's stronger than ever. He grieves more for his husband and son than his brother. She's going to kill AfO, if it kills her too.

+1- finally, he does it- AfO falls dead, and as All Might, he does too a moment later. The difference is that he gets a wave of light, and finds herself in a much smaller body. A young child, not unlike his last glimpse of Kotaro. Perhaps nine years old, and cute if not noteworthy in appearance. A child, marking a band new life now that he's free of AfO. He leaves the battlefield, and wonders what cover name he should use this time.

He's gone before AfO's body starts sparking gold too, changing. Returning. Regenerating.

[vesvosmozhno]

ATEEZ AS DOGS (Because I say so)

Hongjoong • Pitbull

I can't even describe how much pitbull energy this man has. The tiny chaotic ones that run around all over the place and snarl like a demon for fun but then crash down on the couch and sleep for sixteen hours straight.

Seonghwa • Poodle

He just is a poodle. They're all hot shit and they fucking know it. Confident little assholes. But also poodles are freaks which he absolutely is.

Yunho • Golden Retriever

I think I'd be crucified if I didn't say he was a golden retriever. But also he just is. Big and sweet and full of energy but also they're kind of psychopaths. But in a cute way. Have you ever seen these things take down animals for no reason other than they can. They don't even need to show off it's literally just fun for them.

Yeosang • Doberman

Fight me. He's a fucking doberman. They may look cool and scary and elegant!!! But they're all weirdos. Like most big dogs. Most I've met are also lowkey sassy which he is. I've seen them throw hands for the crime of breathing near them.

San • German Shepherd

He just is. These dogs are the very epitome of loyalty, companionship and protection. No dog is more willing to die for you. They seem so scary and intimidating!! But they're just big fluffy cuddlebugs. If that's not San's duality I dunno what is.

Mingi • Pitbull

I stand by the rapline being pitbulls but whereas Joong is the tiny chaotic flavor Mingi is the giant looks like they could kill you but is the BIGGEST baby flavor. You will never meet a sweeter or more pathetic dog. They are giant children, need constant reassurance. The second they get scared they are RUNNING to you for protection. That's literally just Mingi let's be real. He's specifically a yellow pitbull, they're ten times as pathetic as the other ones

Wooyoung • Pomeranian

Who knew he would be the only (true) little dog breed. These goddamn things. BALLS OF ENERGY AND CHAOS. My grandparents had two and have you ever seen a 20 year old pomeranian. That thing was half fossilized and he STILL bounced off the walls and fought with fucking everything and everyone. These are feral bitches but with the confidence of a designer breed. THEY FUCKING BITE

Jongho • Bulldog

If you think these are small dogs you're wrong. They may look like it but these fuckin things are tanks. You can handle pitbulls, shephards and Danes but you are not fucking prepared to be bodied by a bulldog. And they aren't even being malicious they just want to go somewhere and no force on this Earth will stop them. One genuinely broke into my fucking house. He banged on my door like I owed him money and when I opened it to see who the fuck was at my door this tiny BEAST forced his way in and tore up my living room. It took TWO GROWN ASS ADULTS PICKING HIM UP TO GET HIM OUT. These things are too powerful. They cannot fucking be stopped. Anyway Jongho looks small and cute but he has brute strength from Satan himself, that's how he's a bulldog

[starcrossedxwriter]

Unbreakable Part 3 (Erik Killmonger x OC)

Warnings: none...

A/n: a little pre-Christmas gift. Enjoy!

Naja pushed the knife into his side, not enough to draw blood but just enough for him to feel it. 

“Yield.” 

“Aight girl, damn.” Naja smirked to herself before letting him go and sliding the knives back into their sheaths at her waist. “You don’t know the difference between friendly training ’n a real fight, do you?” 

“Well, this isn’t friendly so…” she shrugged, though she found her tone was not the entirely cold one she hoped it would be as she went to grab water. “And a person who thinks any fight is friendly is a person who won’t live long. No one out there is going to fight friendly so why would I train as such? Easy way to meet the ancestors faster if you ask me.” 

His response, not that he did not agree with it, shocked him. Every day, he realized just how truly different she was now. Or at least, how different she outwardly showed herself to be. But it could not have just been their break up, he reasoned. It had to be something else to harden her to this degree. 

“May I ask you something?” 

He lifted his head. “Well that would involve talking to me?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. Tell me how you keep beatin’ my ass and I’ll answer your question.”

Naja mulled over his compromise for a moment before nodding, the terms seemed logical and fair enough. She crossed back over the mat to stand in front of him.  

“It’s not that hard. You fight like most overconfident men, feel free to take offense to that, by the way.” He merely rolled her eyes. Her jabs seemed to roll off his back, which annoyed her to no end. “Like you’re the biggest and strongest, you merely throw your weight around with little skill. And you can get away with that when you are indeed the biggest and the strongest. Most people can’t overpower brute strength. But I’ve never been the strongest and never will be. Certainly not the biggest in a fight and likely also never will be. So I rely on skill and skill alone. And my other senses. It’s obvious you know how to fight and have skill, even if it is… lacking since you took the herb. Because you know only a handful of equally enhanced people could hope to beat you. You want to beat me? Focus on using your mind to beat me, not those giant muscles,” she gestured at his bulging biceps. 

“Damn, you good. And right. That first day I fought you was my first time fightin’ in a year. Maybe you can teach me some of those skills?” 

Naja stared at him for a few moments before acquiescing. She would never admit it to him but she enjoyed their afternoon sparring sessions. Though they had been at it for a week, this was the most they had spoken in their sessions. He did not push conversation on her even though she could always tell there was a question on the tip of his lips. But their time together steadily opened the release valve on the tension between them even if they did not speak to each other. Every blow, grunt, and kick chipped away at the barrier between them, just as - she imagined - he knew it would. She hated that his plan was working. 

“Deal. We’ll try some new things tomorrow.” 

“I’m a man of my word… now,” he added with a chuckle when her eyebrow raised. “What do you wanna know?” 

“How did a man who vowed to sooner destroy Wakanda before he stepped foot in it again manage to get his hands on our most sacred herb?” 

He scratched the nape of his neck, that was not the question he was expecting. But it was a fair one. He had once vowed to burn Wakanda to the ground for what they took from him. And now he was back, serving the country as loyally as any other soul would, had given up more than most would - though he chose not to think about the long-term freedoms he gave up for it. Only T’Challa knew the road that led him back, that changed his mind. 

“You weren’t wrong…” he closed the space between them. 

“I rarely am,” she offered, which made him laugh. 

Conceded but true, he thought to himself. 

“T’Challa and I did reconnect after his father died… couple years before the Blip. He gave me a set of beads and told me if I ever needed anythin’, call him. Never thought I’d need to call it in, never thought I’d need him. And then… shit hit the fan after the Blip, tried to save someone instead of myself and got shot.” He gestured toward the faintest scar among the raised scarring on his chest. “Escaped, used one of the beads to stabilize myself, called T’Challa. By the time they got me back, the herb was the only option.” 

“You were shot?” She whispered. Without thinking, her hand reached to his scarred chest and grazed over the faint line left behind. It was barely visible against the bumps that marred his perfect skin. The picture of it pained her soul, the idea of him floating between life and death. “I d-don’t understand you,” she whispered with a soft chuckle and head shake. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You claimed to have no room in your heart for anyone, claimed to love nothing and no one. Who on this planet was worth almost dying for?” 

Erik grabbed her hand, holding it to his chest, which tore her eyes from his scar to his deep brown ones. 

“Someone who reminded me of the most important thing I sacrificed, the thing I always wanted to get back to.” 

She could feel the ice between them, the ice she so desperately clung to, melting away as if someone set it ablaze. It could not withstand this, this fire that brewed between them under the surface of disdain. She could no longer ignore it in favor of righteous rage. He was making it impossible to do so. She wanted to resist it, break free of him and this spell he kept putting her under. But his pull was impossible to resist. She was paralyzed there with him and that terrified her. 

“W-why’d you stay?” 

“I saw my dad in the Ancestral Plane. Reminded me that I… I had been on the run from hard shit long enough, that I made mistakes and I needed to stay and fix them. Atone for them. So I vowed to stick around this time and do that.”

“And did you? Fix it?” Her voice was reduced to a whisper. 

“Some of it. Some are proving harder but I got 5 or 6 weeks left.” 

She wished Bast would send her some snappy retort, something to remind him that she hated him. However, there was nothing. No jabs, no anger, nothing she could offer. The old her, the one she buried beneath everything she was today, yearned for him as if he were oxygen for her to breathe. But she couldn’t, couldn’t let her out again, allow herself to be hurt like that again.

“What if t-that isn’t enough? What if t-there’s t-too much damage?” 

He shrugged. “With enough work, anything can be fixed. And I ain’t ever let a challenge stop me.” 

She let out a shaky breath as his face leaned in closer to hers. It was as if something transported her back to her teens. She was 16 again, sneaking through the caves of the falls with Erik, ready to fall into the roaring river that was him. And here she was, foolishly, teetering on that edge again. And the rope that kept her tethered to the edge, a decade of pain and anger, that was fraying at the middle with each passing moment in his presence. 

However, she was thankful when both of their beads rang out loudly, a cannon that forced them away from each other. 

Thank Bast, she thought to herself. She still answered some prayers.

“It’s T’Challa,” she mumbled. “W-We should go.” 

Erik tried to mask the crestfallen look on his face before he nodded and followed her out. Every day he had to remind himself that movement and rebuilding was slow tedious work. And his road back into Naja’s good graces would a long one.

***

Naja tossed and turned, groaning slightly to herself. Sleep was more difficult in Wakanda than she thought it would be. She was used to holding late hours, whether for her shifts at the bar or for activities that required the cover of night before sleeping until noon. It also did not help how soft her bed was. She had long left the luxuries of Wakanda behind and now they were difficult to grow accustomed to again. 

Her family was determined to use every moment of her time with them. A certain adorable prince demanded Naja’s attendance at breakfast before he went to school, which meant early mornings with the family. She spent most of the day with Nakia and the baby before sparring with Erik in the afternoon, an activity she hated to admit she looked forward to. 

“You aren’t sleeping,” she mumbled to herself before sliding out of bed. She grabbed her long duster to provide some level of decency to her short sleeping shorts and tank top. She wished she had the company of man to help her at least feel tired but she did not. Besides, everytime she thought about it… there was only one man that came to mind and that was beyond out of the question. 

She slid on her slippers and, because she was who she was, grabbed her gun from under her pillow and tucked it in the waistband of her shorts. What would she need it for? She did not know but she did not go anywhere at night without it. 

She slipped out of her quarters, nodding at the two Dora who stood guard outside her wing. They did not follow her, thank Bast. But that had been the compromise. 

She meandered through the halls, soft candles leading her around as she wandered. A soft wind blew through the open halls of the palace, leading her to the gardens. She walked through, savoring the beauty and quiet of the space. She settled in a patch that grew vibrant blue lilies she knew Nakia had planted as they grew along the falls. They were her personal favorites. She sat there and studied them, noting every shade of blue in each petal. They reminded her of a softer life, a softer time. She used to keep a bouquet of them by her bed when she was young. 

She had no desire to go back there but she could not pretend that sometimes she didn't missed it. She missed the girl that could fall asleep on mattresses that felt like clouds and became gleeful at pretty flowers. Who sought out the beauty in every person, not the ulterior motives they had to harm her. That girl was dead and buried, rightfully so but she was missed. 

As quickly as her reminiscing started, it ended as she felt a presence behind her. Instinctively, she jumped up and grabbed her gun, pointing it at Erik. 

“Ain’t seen someone move that fast in a minute,” he offered, admiration in his voice despite the gun aimed between his eyes. “You a good shot?” 

“Better than you I’m sure,” she mumbled. “They didn’t teach you at your assassin school about sneaking up on other assassins?” 

“Wasn’t sneakin’. I said your name twice before you almost blew my head off.” 

Naja blinked a few times in shock. “Oh, sorry, don’t know how I didn’t hear you.” She stowed her weapon back behind her back and shifted her weight awkwardly. “Couldn’t sleep either?” 

“Nah… just don’t need it much anymore. One of the benefits of the herb. Lots of time to wander and think.” 

Some nights, the restlessness in his spirit was simply unbearable so he just wandered. He often left the palace and went to his favorite spots in the country. But some nights like tonight, he just walked around the palace. Since he moved in, he imagined he had learned every nook and cranny. No one ever bothered him or even tried to stop him, though he knew every midnight stroll made its way back to T’Challa. 

He had free range but he also knew T’Challa kept a close eye on him. He was not intrusive or overbearing so Erik chose to ignore it and let T’Challa do whatever he needed to do to feel secure about Erik’s residency there. And though T’Challa would never admit it, Erik also knew that his spying had an ulterior motive driven by a fear that T’Challa would wake up one day and Erik would have disappeared without warning or a goodbye. 

That was not him anymore, he had learned his lesson years ago. Learned the irreversible pain abandoning people without thought or care for them did. And he vowed that he would never make such a callous choice again, especially since he would likely spend the rest of his life making up for the last time. If he could have, Bast knew he would go back and do so many things differently, make so many different choices. That was all the last 15 years had been: years and years to contemplate the terrible decisions he made in his youth. 

“And opportunities to steal from the kitchens?” she gestured toward the wrapped up napkins in his hand. 

“Another benefit or curse of the herb, dependin’ on how you look at it. Always hungry as fuck.” 

She chuckled. “I can relate,” she admitted. “To the hungry part at least.” 

Erik studied her for a minute before reaching his hand out, handing her the wrapped up food. She raised an eyebrow before taking it and opening it, revealing her favorite dessert, a Wakandan lime cake that she had not had in years but adored. 

“Wanna share? It’s that recipe you always loved.” 

She wanted to say no but she saw it for what it was: a peace offering. At least for them at this moment, even if it did not last till the sun rose in the morning. 

She settled back in her spot, Erik sitting next to her, the cake perched on his knee as they each broke off pieces. She stifled a moan as the flavors hit her taste buds. 

“Bast… I forgot how good that was. Thanks for sharing. I hope you didn’t poison it or something.” 

“You hate me, not the other way around, remember?” 

Yes, you do hate him. Remember?? A voice yelled in her head. But did she? Really? Cause everything she felt right now was far from hate. Complicated, yes? But hate was not complicated at all. 

“Right. Wouldn’t be wise on your part to accept any cake from me then.” She grabbed another piece and popped it in her mouth before laying back in the soft grass. Her eyes studied the stars as they laid there in silence, Erik quietly handing her pieces of cake as he watched her. 

“Can I ask you somethin’? You owe me at least that, eating all my damn cake.” Not that he minded. 

“I’m nothing if not fair. What do you want to know?” 

Erik wanted to know so much, he wanted to know everything that had happened to her in the last 15 years but he knew it was a slow build to gaining her trust again. Which meant he had to start with a soft ball, something simple and easy that would not ruffle any feathers. 

“Been readin’ war dog files and most choose jobs and covers that… give them comfort. You chose a bartender in the poorest part of the country, why?” 

Naja turned onto her side to look at him. This was the most relaxed Erik had seen her since he arrived and he loved it. 

“T’Challa asked the same thing when I picked it,” she chuckled. “When I was assigned to Niganda as home base, I knew I needed to keep a low profile, I needed to be flexible and available for missions. And the poorest village in any country is the most overlooked. Knew no one would look twice. Perfect place to hide. And then I just grew to love it, the people… the heart of it. They don’t have much but everyone does everything they can for everyone. And I became a war dog to help people. If I was going to take lives, I figured I could help them too. And then it just became home.” 

“You are so different now…” he mumbled as he stared at her. 

She shrugged. “Had to be. Wasn’t going to survive any other way. Suppose I should thank you for that? If you hadn’t…” she did not want to say it. “Left, I wouldn’t be who I am today.” 

“And is she better than who you were?” He asked, holding her gaze. 

“She’s stronger. She won’t be broken ever again. She can’t be.” 

Erik knew he should quit while he was ahead. They were dancing into dangerous territory that could undo the fragile peace they had created between them. But he could not stop himself. He hated that she thought such things about herself, hated that she thought so lowly of herself. 

“What makes you think she wasn’t strong?” 

“Because she…” Naja stopped herself. She did not think she could go down this road with him. He wanted vulnerability and she was not interested in giving it to him. He did not deserve it. “I believe you asked for one question… not eight follow ups,” she joked. “I should head back to my room.” She stood up and dusted off her clothes. “Thanks for the cake.” 

Erik sighed. He figured he was taking it too far but he lost control when he was with her. Forgot about his obligations and all the things his brain knew he should not do. All he could think about was what his heart wanted and that was her, all of her. 

“Let me walk you back.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t need an escort.” 

“I know you don’t. Humor a nigga, damn. Were you always this stubborn?” 

Naja snorted. “Another consequence of your actions,” she shrugged. 

“Well your suite’s on the way to mine so we can walk in that direction together.” 

“You don’t give up, do you?” 

He closed the space between them, heat rising in Naja’s entire body as he stared down at her. “Nope. But I was always like that.” 

She did not say anything, there was no response she could offer that did not betray her. If she stayed in his presence, under his smolder much longer, he would end up in her bed. She had far less self control than he gave her credit for. 

She turned and walked back in the direction she came. They did not say much as they walked through the silent halls until they were back in front of her suite. 

“Thanks for the cake and conversation. It was nice,” she admitted. 

“How painful was that?” At her confused expression, Erik added. “To say somethin’  nice to me?” 

Naja laughed loudly. Fuck, Eirk forgot how much he missed that sound. “Very. Don’t make me regret it. And say a word of it to anyone else and I’ll show you how good of a shot I am,” she warned. 

“Fine if you do somethin’ for me? Next time you can’t sleep and want to go wanderin’, call me. I know all the best spots for us night owls.” 

She studied him. Everything in her warred. Her heart demanded she say yes, the voice she listened to the least. Her brain simply demanded she remember everything he had done to her, how he had destroyed her. But her heart recognized his effort, recognized that he was trying to earn her trust back. And what did she gain by pretending it was not working to some degree? But doing so scared her. Her anger and rage toward him had been fuel to survive, she did not know who she was without it. But even that fear was not strong enough to make her say that simple word: no. 

He had infiltrated every aspect of her being and there was only so much resistance she could put up.

“Fine. But this changes nothing between us. I just don’t enjoy wandering alone.” She did not even understand the point of adding that caveat. It was not true. The sum of two conversations had changed everything between them. 

Erik was not even annoyed or angry at her words. He deserved 99% of the lashings she gave him. He was honestly surprised she even said yes. But he would not complain, the barrier softened with every passing day and he would take whatever he could get. 

“I know. You still hate me. Understood. See you on the mat, Naja.” 

“Night.” 

Naja watched him walk off before closing the door to her room. She slumped against the door. 

“Fuck me,” she muttered before climbing into bed. 

However, she could not deny that Erik had a certain effect on her because she slept the rest of the night. Though her brain plagued her with dreams, or in her opinion nightmares, of him. Of her falling for him yet again. And each one ended the same way: with him leaving her heartbroken and alone. 

She was only pulled out of her dreams at a knock at her door. She groaned, wondering who had lost all common sense and was bothering her. She rubbed her eyes, noticing the sun was high in the sky. She glanced at her clock, breakfast was in a short while which meant she did not need to scream at whatever poor soul stood on the other side of her door. 

She slid on her robe and pulled open the door. 

“Sister Naja? I have a delivery for you.” The woman held a vase of blue flame lilies in her arms. “There’s also a note.” 

“Who are they from?” Naja asked, though she already knew the answer. 

“They said you would know.” and with that, she handed her the vase and note and walked away. Naja sat on her bed, sliding the vase down on her bedside table before opening the note. 

A girl once told me she liked to wake up to these every day because they were a reminder of the beauty in our world. One of the many lessons that girl taught me was that strength and beauty can co-exist. It took me too long to learn that lesson but when I did, it changed my life. I hope you haven’t forgotten it. 

A tear slid down her cheek as she studied the flowers. 

“I hate him so much,” she whispered to herself. But she knew the truth, the only thing she hated about Erik was how much she still loved him. And really, that was what she hated about herself more. 

***

“Again!” Naja demanded as she jumped to her feet. She spun the spear around her in her hand before stabbing into the soft material of the mat. 

Erik braced himself on his knees. “How the fuck you keep doin’ that shit? It’s like I ain’t even tryin’. This shit’s effortless for you.” 

“I’m just that good,” she winked at him before sighing. “I think you need an incentive.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Because this isn’t working. It would be easier to teach a penguin to fly than this… and less painful.” 

“So you got jokes? I’m gettin’ my ass beat... and you got jokes." 

Naja closed the space between them. “You’re getting your ass beat because you aren’t trying. You’re pulling your punches and holding back because you don’t want to hurt me. I’m not a child playing on the grown-ups’ mat. Fight me as you would fight any man out there. But I know you. You’ve always had a competitive spirit so let’s make a bet. Best two out of three and whoever wins gets whatever they want. Once in a lifetime opportunity. You in?”  

Erik’s ears immediately perked up. “You serious?” 

“Yes. You need an incentive, so make your wager good. Something you’d fight to the death for.” 

Erik saw a golden path laid out in front of him. This felt too good to be true. But she was completely and totally serious. She was offering him anything in this world. He knew she would fight equally hard to win but he had to try. Big risk, big reward was always his motto. 

“If I win, let me take you out to dinner.” 

Naja immediately shook her head. She clearly had not thought this plan through properly. Wandering through the palace and sparring together was one thing. She could be friendly with him again but she would not date him or intentionally foster the romantic feelings she felt for him. Never again.

“Absolutely not.” 

“You said somethin’ I’d fight to death for and any good spy knows to be specific and you didn’t give any parameters. So that’s it. One dinner outside the palace with me. Besides… it’s gotta be somethin’ you’d fight equally hard to ensure I lost. Gotta make it a fair fight.” 

He knew Naja was principled enough not to go back on her word. She wanted him to fight harder, this would certainly do it. But she hated that he kept trying, kept poking at her soft spots to make her fully cave for him. He was playing her like a fiddle and she was too weak  to stop him. 

However, a small piece of her demanded she resisted the pull to say yes and let Bast and fate decide what happened next.

“One dinner isn’t going to change anything between us. Pick something else.” 

“No. I can be just as stubborn as you.” 

“Pick. Something. Else.” She practically screamed at him, everything in her ignoring the electricity that sparked when they were they close. He woke up every cell in her body, charged her with energy and passion and lust. Everything she did not want to feel for him.

There was no space for Bast between them as they stood off. Despite their significant height difference, Naja did not cower. She stood tall before him even though she barely reached his chin.

“No. You can hate me, despise me. I don’t care. But I won’t stop tryin’, Naja. Even if all I can do is show you I’ve changed and that I regret what I did to you so you can hate me a little less. If that’s all I get, I can live with that. But I can't live knowing I didn't try so I’m gonna use every minute I got to show you. That’s a promise.” 

Naja pulled herself to the fullest height she could. “It won’t work.” 

“If you’re so sure it won’t work, then it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

Naja sucked her teeth. There was no retort for that… at least not one that would get her out of this hellish situation.  “Fine. Pick your weapon.” 

Once they both had their chosen spears in hand, the training center filled with the loud clashing of vibranium. Naja fought with every ounce of intensity she could muster, landing Erik on his back with her spear gently poking his chest in a few short minutes. 

“One for me. Feels like you played this little game all wrong. Instead of giving yourself an incentive, you just gave me a better one to beat your ass.” 

Erik bared his teeth with a menacing smile, his golden grill glistening slightly in the light before he pushed himself to his feet. “I played the game exactly like I wanted to, baby girl. But I like it when you talk shit.” 

Naja bristled at the pet name he used to call her. She imagined he pulled it out simply to touch a nerve but it sounded so effortless too. No one had called her that since him and it, like the flowers he gave her, woke something in her she thought was dead and gone. 

What Naja did not know is that Erik had used the first round to his advantage. He used the time to study her, how she attacked, which weak spots she would go for first. So during the second round, he met her blow for blow, blocking every single one with such precision that she could not hide her shock and surprise. 

“I knew you were holding out on me.” 

“What half assed assassin school did you go to where they didn’t teach you the number 1 rule?” he asked as he slashed the blunt end of his spear against her back, causing her to fall to the ground. 

It was the first time he grounded her but even in her shock, she rolled to her side and immediately bounced to her feet, ignoring the lack of air in her lungs. 

Fuck, she was exhausted. And she knew then that she was screwed. 

“And what’s… that?” 

“No one’s your friend so you should never show all your tricks. And you’ve been showing me all of yours for weeks.” 

And just as Naja lunged to take him down, Erik grabbed the end of her spear and yanked her against his chest. With a move she had never seen before, he twisted the weapon out of her grasp and her arm behind her back, forcing her to remain flush to his chest. For good measure and to prove he had won the round, he grabbed a knife he kept hidden in his vest and held it to her throat. 

“Yield.” 

Naja could feel every scar on his chest pressed against her bare skin as she fought him in only a sports bra and leggings. She could feel every muscle and ounce of strength against her. 

“Screw you,” she spat angrily as she yanked her arm free and turned to face him. 

“I forgot you were a sore loser. One to one. One more round, baby girl.” 

“Call me that again and you’ll meet Bast a lot sooner than you want to.” 

They both crouched down into their fighting stances and pounced. It was more than a dance this time, it was the performance of a lifetime for both of them. There was too much on the line… everything was on the line. Every trick, hidden skill, ruthless action they could use without killing the other, they did. They were fighting to win and they were two people who never lost. 

Everytime each of them thought they had the other in their crosshairs, they found a way to weasel out of them. Naja was afraid of how sore she would be in the morning but she did not care. For all intents and purposes, she was fighting for her life on that mat. Losing her dignity to Erik Stevens again was not an option. 

However, Erik knew one thing that Naja did not want to admit. His enhancements meant that he could last longer in a fight than any of his opponents, even if they were better fighters. He did not have to outfight Naja… he simply had to outlast her. And sure enough, as this round went on for nearly double the amount of time as the others, he could see her movements grow tired and slower. She usually moved with the precision and quickness of a machine. But she was not a machine, she was human and the human body had a limit. She was reaching hers. 

Erik thought about dragging it out but he was a victor ready to claim his prize. While he was the type of monster who enjoyed playing with his food before he went in for the kill, he knew this win would be delicious without all that. 

He waited until Naja lunged for him before he spun away from her and kicked the back of her knee. She groaned in pain as she toppled like a tree. Her usual move to return to her feet was too slow, giving Erik the chance to straddle her hips and pin her hands to the ground. 

“Yield.” He demanded, his voice low and domineering. 

She bucked against him a few times to get him off of her, frustrated at the heaviness that was him against her small frame. She was stuck beneath him and she had lost. They both knew it. 

Her chest heaved and Erik found it difficult not to let his eyes fall to her full chest, the tops of her breasts on display for him. He had forgotten what it was like to have her beneath him. He knew he could never have her like this in the setting he wanted but he could reminisce.

“Say it or we ain’t movin’.”

“I yield,” she whispered through gritted teeth, Erik allowing her to sit up. 

He held out his hand to help her to her feet but like the sore loser she was, she swatted it away and stood up on her own. She stomped over to her bag and wiped the dripping sweat off of her in a fit of rage. How did she lose?

Because you’re weak when it comes to him. Always have been and always will be. 

She could not even look at him in her frustration at him and herself for this stupid position she put herself in. She supposed she just had not expected it to backfire so spectacularly. 

“That was fun. You were right… just needed a good incentive.” He threw her a teasing smile, which her deadpan face did not return. “See you for our walk tonight. I’ll let you know about dinner, just make sure to wear somethin’ black and gold,” he winked at her before grabbing his stuff and leaving the training center.

As she watched him retreat, Naja paced in circles on the training mat before letting out a loud frustrated groan. For good measure, she pulled out all of the knives in her vest one by one and aimed them at the door Erik just walked out of. Each one hit the same square inch of the door with precision right where his head had been only seconds earlier.  

“Should’ve been his fucking face,” she muttered to herself before grabbing her bag and stalking out of the center, her hands angrily ripping each knife out of the door before she left. 

***

Erik could not help but check his beads and messages every five minutes. Tonight’s usual restlessness had turned to all-consuming anxiety as their usual meeting hour had passed without a call or message. He wondered if she was sulking as she had been all evening since their sparring match. She lost fair and square but he knew she would not be happy about it. But he had hoped she would come around by their late night walk.

He found that his few hours with Naja each day were the only things he looked forward to. There was still a coldness to her when they were around the entire family as if she was committed to the facade. But day by day, he got to see a bit of the old her until she realized and usually became cold again. However, he did not mind. He still had several weeks to fully peel back the curtain and he would take every minute he could. 

Maybe she is sleep. She actually needs it, unlike you. 

Erik only felt so bad about keeping her up at night. He knew her human non-enhanced body needed rest that his did not but he did not feel bad enough to cut their time together short. Deciding that he could not wait any longer and could just meet her in the gardens when and if she called, he decided to start his wandering journey without her. 

He pulled on his shoes and stepped out of his room, nodding at the Dora assigned to him. She waited for a moment, knowing he hated the shadows he was forced to keep with him. 

“Staying in the palace tonight,” he called over his shoulder, the woman’s shoulders easing a bit as she remained in her position. Even he had no interest in walking outside in one of Wakanda’s summer storms. He remembered those from when he was a kid, they were a force to be reckoned with. 

The storm immediately made him think of Naja, who was notoriously afraid of thunder and lightning. He wondered if she was still was. Though he imagined there was little she was afraid of these days.

His silent musings were cut short when a soft whimper filled his ears. He whipped his head around, glancing up and down the hall of rooms, his enhanced hearing straining to pick up on the sound again. 

When he heard it a second time, it was more pained, agonizing sadness that gripped his soul with incoherent mumblings he could not make sense of. But it was loud enough for him to know exactly who it was.  

“Naja.” 

His feet moved faster than light itself as he followed the pained sobs to her door. He did not think to knock or announce himself when he pushed inside to find her thrashing in her bed, her sheets tangled up in her limbs. Tears streamed down her face as she cried, he could see the small beads of tacky sweat that covered her. 

With only mere feet between them, he could finally hear her words, her soft apologies to someone who was not there. Select phrases hit his ears and felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart, her proclamations that something was her fault, her pleas for forgiveness. 

His eyes quickly scanned the papers and journals that were littered across her bed. Surveillance photos, maps, pictures of children, notes scribbled in her journal. None of it made sense to him without proper context but one thing he knew for certain: she was involved in far more than watching and observing. 

He sat down on the corner of her bed and gently touched her face, his palm cupping her cheek. His thumb whisked away her tears. At his touch, her body slowly settled, though her tears and mumbling pleas did not.

“Come back to me, Naja,” he whispered. His other hand rubbed her bare arm, hoping his touch would break through the barriers in her mind. “Wake up for me.” 

His instructions were low and his touch measured and gentle until he saw her eyes flutter open. 

“N-N’Jadaka?” She croaked as she blinked her eyes several times, adjusting to the darkness of her room. A loud crack of thunder caused her to jump slightly, Erik moving closer to her to rub her bare arms. She was shaking like a leaf. 

He was so concerned that he did not even get to revel in the fact that she used his real name for the fist time, the one she used to call him. 

“Hey, you’re ok. You’re ok. I just heard you havin’ a nightmare.” 

“J-just a nightmare… just a nightmare,” she muttered to herself as she forced her body into an upright position. Her eyes frantically surveyed her room as the realization that she was still in Wakanda hit her. Her eyes screwed shut, her arms wrapping around her knees as she repeated that refrain. “Just a nightmare.”

He was not sure what to make of the woman who sat in front of him now. She was such a juxtaposition to the hardened and cold spy who he had grown accustomed to since returning home. Since he saw her again, he felt like he was staring at her through a stained glass window. The other side peeked through ever so slightly but, for the most part, all he could see was the picture she wanted him to see and nothing more. But tonight? That stained glass window shattered and he could see her, the girl he fell madly in love with all those years ago. The girl who felt everything with her whole soul, loved so deeply for others, and lived in her vulnerability fully. 

Erik decided to make himself useful by pouring her a glass of water from the pitcher on her coffee table. However, she pushed it away when he tried to hand it to her, Naja suddenly overwhelmed by the shame that he, of all people, saw her in such a state. 

“I-I’m good,” she hastily wiped her tears.

Erik ignored her as he pushed the glass into her hand. It shook slightly so he wrapped his own hand around hers to ensure she did not spill it. 

“Drink.” She could tell his word was a command and not a suggestion, though the stubborn part of her wanted to remind him that he was in no position to give her orders.

He watched her intently as she took long sips, the tension in her frame easing every time she swallowed. 

“So you gonna tell me what that was about? And what all this is?” 

“Missing kids in the capital… stolen by the King and his soldiers but no one knows where they are or why. Two girls were taken earlier this evening. Every day I’m here, more of them go missing, more lives ruined and there’s nothing I can do.”

“The dream?” 

“I c-couldn’t sleep cause of the s-storm,” she gestured toward the window. “A-and finding out about the girls so I started pouring over my notes. Must’ve dozed off a-and… A-and I was back at my house there and I walked outside and… All their parents were outside, screaming a-and crying about how I couldn’t find them o-or save them. How no one cared about them. But I do… I c-care. I just… I pour over this mess every single night and I can’t…” she gestured at the mess on her bed. “I can’t figure it out. I can’t find them.” 

“Why you puttin’ that on yourself?” His thumb wiped one of her tears. 

“Because if I don’t… who will, Erik? I tried but I can’t… I can’t just watch and report. It’s not… it’s not me.” 

He shook his head. “I ain’t an idiot like T. I know you ain’t built for that watch dog shit. I am asking, why is it only on you to find them?”

She crossed her legs, tugging the blanket around her bare arms. She was not cold but something about the vulnerability made her shiver, shake. It also did not help that thunder and lightning raged outside. She hated storms, ever since she was a child. 

“Gotta find some way to earn some of my soul back,” she grimaced. She leaned back against the headboard. “I don’t regret it. I’d lead the same life over again if given the choice.” The conviction in her voice was resolute and unwavering. “Everything I’ve ever done was for our people and this country. But… It haunts me, all the suffering of this world that I ignored for years because it had nothing to do with the mission or serving Wakanda. These kids?” She picked up the stack of photos on the bed and handed them to him. “They aren’t Wakandan but does that mean their lives mean less? That they do not deserve our resources to find them? Save them? And if I can’t do it with all the resources and tech and everything we have that no one else on this planet does… what did I survive this long for then? I spent the better part of my life using those resources to take lives, I just want to spend whatever time I have left saving them.” 

Erik bowed his head. He understood the feeling, the ways in which the complex lives they chose haunted them day in and day out. But he had to learn how to make peace with it all. And she did too. 

“Naja… listen to me. Probably the last person you want advice from but I might be one of the only people ‘round here who get it. I killed a lot more people than you for a lot less righteous reasons. For revenge and to satisfy rage, not for country and all that shit. And I probably got more pleasure from it than you did. And that shit still haunts me too. I stayed here to save whatever pieces of my soul were left. I get it. But you… The girl I knew wanted to be a War Dog to help people and add to the world, not subtract from it. That girl ain’t dead. Maybe you just buried her beneath barriers to stop someone from ever hurtin’ you again. Because being a cold, unfeelin’ spy is less painful. Believe me, I tried that shit too. But our old selves always demand air eventually, Naja. And maybe this,” he took the photos out of her hand. “Is that air.” 

Fuck, I hate him, she though to herself. One thing that never changed about Erik was he knew exactly what to say, exactly what she needed to be whole again. This moment reminded her of the first time she and Erik slept together. They did not do anything but it was still the night she realized how utterly and insanely in love with him she was. It was a night not unlike this one, a summer storm keeping her up to the wee hours of the night. She had called him, expecting him to keep her company till she dozed off. But instead, he commandeered a jeep and was outside her window 20 minutes later. She buried herself in his chest while he offered her soothing words and stories until she fell asleep. 

He had always been her rock, her emotional constant when she was in pain. Part of her hated herself for still needing that from anyone, but particularly for craving it from him. 

“That girl’s gone, Erik,” she muttered, trying to regain some semblance of control in that moment. She could not remember the last time she was vulnerable with someone and she was not particularly interested in doing it now. “Time and life killed her. This is me now.” 

“If that girl was really gone, you would not be screamin’ yourself awake with nightmares over kids you don’t know. We can be as cold and unfeelin’ as we wanna be but who we were back then is  still there. And there’s nothin’ wrong with that. I thought the girl you were was pretty dope anyway,” he pushed her braids behind her shoulder with a smile. “I know you ain’t gonna go back to sleep so explain it to me.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“You ain’t goin’ back to sleep with all that outside.” The wind and thunder seemed to pick up on cue as he spoke. At her surprised expression he shrugged. “I remember everything about you.” 

Her voice hitched slightly as she studied him, she felt all of it. So much love and adoration in his eyes that clashed with everything he had once made her believe about herself. A voice in her mind cautioned her with loud echoing words. 

He doesn’t love you, he doesn’t care for you. He never did. 

But everything in the way he studied her, the way he touched her, the way he intimately remembered everything about her she desperately tried to forget signaled that he did. But she learned the hard way where trusting Erik got her: years of agony, pain, and guilt for choices his actions forced her to make that she did not know if she could ever forgive him for. She hated how he slowly chipped away at the villainous image she had created of him. It was easy to hate a villain, but whatever he was now? The duality of being both her villain and her savior? That was an emotional gray area that she had no interest in living in. 

“I’m not worth remembering or sticking around for, remember?” She responded, her only defense to protect herself was to hit low. Though her words did not have the sharpness she intended. Instead they just sounded how she felt when she heard them: heartbroken.

And the blow landed but Erik did not let it deter him. She deserved to land a cheap shot or two, he deserved it. “I can’t undo the past. But you can let me atone for it by helpin’ you out now. If the Nigandans are plannin’ somethin’, I should know about it.” He decided to omit the real reason why he also needed to know what the Royal Family was orchestrating. That reality was a long ways off. “Besides, another pair of eyes might be exactly what you need. Let me help you, Naja.” 

She did not want to say yes and give him more opportunities to get close to her. However, the lives of these children and families were more important than her pride, even she knew that.

“Fine. But this changes nothing between us,” she warned as she shifted the materials on her bed around so she could walk him through everything in order. 

“I’d expect nothing less,” he remarked. 

An hour passed by the time Naja finished reviewing all the materials and evidence with him. 

“So? What do you think?” 

He shook his head. “Defintiely somethin’s goin’ on. But to stop the peace talks or get Wakanda to intervene, you gotta have more than this. And that takes time.” 

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I know, I know. I just don’t know how much time these kids have.” 

Erik rubbed her knee, trails of fire and heat cascading up her body at his touch. She awkwardly shifted her leg out of the way to avoid his grasp. She refused to fall, not again.  

“I’m gonna help you. T got me working the peace talks on my end now. Maybe with your undercover work and my spot in the negotiations, we can piece it all together. And maybe, if I help you bring these kids home, we can at least be friends?” 

“Don’t hold your breath,” she muttered under her breath, which made Erik chuckle. 

“I won’t.” 

“But thank you. Seriously,” she squeezed his hand gently, a spark igniting between them before she tore it away. “Umm…I should try to go back to bed. Sorry for missing our meeting time tonight.” 

“All good. Night, Naja.” 

“Night, Erik.” 

Naja watched him start to head to the door, more loud cracks of thunder echoing around her. Something in her just broke, cracked her wide open and the girl she once was demanded air, freedom. And the only air she wanted was him. She knew it was a bad idea. It was the dumbest idea she had ever had. But she was about to make it. The night had stripped her bare, left her scared and boneless. And she was tired of dealing with all of that alone. 

“Erik!” She called after him as he opened her door. He stopped and turned to look at her, tears streaming down her face. “Stay.” 

That one word knocked the wind out of him. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, Naja.” He forced the words out, even though it was painful to do so. He wanted to stay, desperately so. But he knew she would hate herself and him in the morning if he did. 

“I don’t want… that,” she clarified, though that was a lie. She did want that, she wanted him to fuck her senseless so she forgot everything else. But she was strong enough to resist that. She was not strong enough to resist the part of her that just needed someone there. “I just… don’t want to be alone tonight. Please.”

That was all Erik needed to hear. He walked back over to her bed and slipped in beside her, his strong arms pulling her onto his chest. She curled up into his side and immediately relaxed, no longer jumping or tensing when loud thunder rolled through. They had done this countless times as teens and it felt just as easy and simple as it was back then. 

Even Erik felt at peace, his usual restlessness gone as they slept soundly in each other’s arms. 

When Naja woke up the next morning, she was shocked to find her body pressed against a hard chest. Before she could even open her eyes, the events of the night came back to her. 

What the fuck did you do? A voice accused her. 

She immediately extracted herself from Erik’s arms, causing him to shift and open his eyes. 

Awkward silence stretched between them as they stared at each other. Naja did not know what to say. One bad night and she had invited him into her bed? How sad, how cliche, how fucking stupid could she be? 

As if he could sense or see her internal downward spiral, Erik immediately climbed out of her bed and offered. “If you don’t want it to mean anythin’, then it doesn’t have to. Just a friend comforting a friend and I don’t plan on tellin’ anyone. We’re good, Naja.” 

Except… it did mean something. She could lie and say it didn’t but it did. It meant something that he came to her rescue, that he stayed even though she gave him no real reason to show her any kindness. It all meant something to her. As much as she did not want it to, it did. That rope that held her from falling into the sea of him? Well, it was so close to giving out and there was no materials to reinforce it. 

Last night was the safest she had felt in years… in the arms of the man she thought she hated most on this planet. Was she so prideful that she could reasonably ignore that? Erik said he wanted to prove that he changed… perhaps she should give him that chance. She was not betraying who she was now by doing so. She was honoring that some part of her, however small, still needed him in some way. And if 15 years of pretending that was not the case did not make the feeling go away, perhaps it was time to acknowledge that the feeling simply would never go away. 

“Thank you. See you at breakfast,” she whispered as she hugged her robe around her body. She felt exposed and not just physically. 

He nodded and started walking toward the door. However, before he could leave, she said, “For dinner… no where we went when we were together the first time.” 

He paused and glanced back at her. Naja took a tentative step toward him. 

“Every cell in my body is telling me not to do this. But… you said you’ve changed. So show me. But this is it… this dinner you fought for is it. The only chance you’ll get again to show me something different than the Erik who broke me. Don’t make me regret trusting you again.” 

“You won’t. And that’s a promise I can keep. See you at breakfast.

Tag list: @miyuhpapayuh @pipsqueak-98 @injerafiend @themakingsofdion @lishabaybee @certifiedlesbianbaddie @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @dangerous-history @roguekiki @mysteryuz @shyblackgurl

***

A/N: Alright Naja is giving him a chance? Sort of? lol drop a comment and let me know what you thought and how you think their dinner is going to go! As always, thanks for reading!

[thegreymoon]

Hello again!

Sorry, I don’t mean to be so obtuse🙈 but when you say, if CWN had wanted MR dead, he would be, isn’t that saying that CWN is more powerful, but that he was more emotionally affected than MR?

Or, and this isn’t something I’ve completely understood because things seem to vary a lot between timelines and with intent, but perhaps if you say that MR is more powerful as in as Taxian Jun with his Zhenlong Chess Formation he has brute strength and a forbidden technique while CWN might be a more versatile cultivator and powerful one on one but even he couldn’t match a Forbidden Technique without using one himself, especially with the emotional weight of fighting against someone he still cared for?

I guess I’m just trying to figure out how the 0.5 timeline worked and how CWN didn’t manage to subdue MR more, despite what we hear about his overall prowess? Is it just the emotional aspect?

Thank you for your patience!

The way I see it, it is a combination of all these things.

In terms of raw power, Mo Ran is more powerful than Chu Wanning (and also physically stronger). Even in the 2.0 timeline, we can see that, with all things equal, he can easily defeat him in one-on-one combat. With that said, Chu Wanning is a more versatile, more accomplished, more experienced cultivator and also, in some ways, smarter than Mo Ran.

In addition, Mo Ran in his altered TXJ state was willing to use forbidden techniques to slaughter people, collateral damage be damned. Chu Wanning would never have been willing to do that and in fact, he sacrificed himself to prevent the slaughter, repeatedly. That was automatically a weakness and what gave TXJ power (or at least the illusion of power) over him.

@jellyfishesandart left a wonderful commentary on the emotional aspect of all this in the tags of my last post and I agree with everything there.

With all that said, we see that Chu Wanning was never as powerless as he appeared because even without his spiritual core, he also managed to master a forbidden technique. Somebody who could find a way to open a rift in time and space could find a way to kill Mo Ran if he really wanted to.

I think that Chu Wanning opening the gate between worlds shows how different their strengths are. Mo Ran is more powerful in terms of sheer power, but Chu Wanning is more resourceful and imaginative when it comes to using what he has at his disposal, because when it comes to rebirth and opening a rift in space and time, as much as he tried, TXJ couldn't do it. The Zhenlong Chess Formation is the only one that he mastered.

[freesia-writes]

Waking Up with The Bad Batch

[cheesy PG-13 fluff] Part Two: Wrecker

You fell asleep completely enveloped in the biggest bear hug of a cuddle that you had ever imagined, but you wake up on your own side of the bed, with that massive hulk of a clone sprawled out on his back next to you, arms and legs everywhere. He's still fast asleep, breathing through his mouth with the occasional closing/swallowing/lip smacking, and a smile creeps across your lips as you watch him for a moment in the early morning glow.

The sheets are twisted around his waist and legs but his torso and arms are free, one arm outstretched near your head. It's impossible to resist snuggling into his side, bringing the covers with you. You match the curve of your body to his, lifting your head to find the perfect pillow in the scoop where his chest meets his shoulder, and drape a leg across one of his.

You rest a hand on his chest, feeling it steadily rise and fall, soaking up his scent and warmth and the absolute peace of the moment. But it's soon broken by a quick twitch from him, muscles flexing under you, that both startles you and jerks him out of his sleep. With a tiny snort, he lifts his head a few inches, looking around the room quickly before getting his bearings and becoming aware of you.

"Ohhh, now this is what I'm talkin' about," he says, gravelly voice slightly rougher than usual. He wraps the outstretched arm around you, curling it around your back from its position under your neck, and brings his other hand behind his head, reclining onto the pillow and closing his eyes.

You trace your hand across his pecs, lazily marveling at the sheer brawn of his build, and nestle it in the tuft of hair sprinkled across the center, gripping it so gently for a moment and then releasing it. You continue your appreciative caress, drawing your fingers up the side of his neck, across the spider-leg scars on the side of his head, then back down to his nose, giving it a little tap. The dichotomy of brute strength and pure tenderness in one soul is magnetic, and you could spend all day exploring the two.

His stomach announces its hunger with an impossibly loud growl, and you have to suppress a laugh at the predictability of this man. His eyes open again, and he grins unabashedly, giving his stomach a fond pat.

"Sounds like it's time to get up," Wrecker says, rolling on his side to face you, freeing his arm from underneath your head, and propping himself up on his elbow. His free hand reaches over to give your rear a playful smack, and this time you do laugh. But instead of getting up, you lay back onto the pillow, never wanting to drag yourself from this warm, cozy little nest, and let out an overly-dramatic deep sigh.

"Fine," you admit, bringing a hand to his side before continuing, "Or... You can stay here, and I'll fetch us a snack..." Your thumb brushes across the sculpted little valleys between his muscle groups, following one side of a V from his hip down toward his thigh.

"Now you're talkin!" he replies enthusiastically, "But you'd better watch out with that hand, or you're gonna have some trouble." He waggles his eyebrows at you, giving a roguish wink before cupping your entire head with his hand and bringing it toward him, placing a slightly sloppy kiss on your forehead.

"And you hate trouble, don't you?" you laugh, tracing your fingers back up across the center of his stomach to rest once again on his heart. "I'll be right back."

As stated in my first one of these... I'm new to all this, so be gentle with me. ;) Hope you can enjoy some PG-13 fluff about our favorite boys. <3 Also, this one got way longer than the first because I'm currently stuck in the progression of my fanfic but still have to write. ;) I'm beginning to fear the potential length of the remaining three. ;)

Also, I have to share this in each post, but these were inspired by this disproportionately cozy and wonderful work of art by @shyranno:

Who next?? <;3

[neonpaperlanterns]

Story idea.

So, someone stated a little bit ago that Leshy, even when the other bishops send curses upon your cult. Does nothing but... Well, yell and try to kill the Lamb.

Seeing as each Bishop seems to have two "themed" after them.

Shamura, the bishop of war and knowledge. (Bit ironic his skull got split open and now he has to battle his own confusion in his current state. Reason why he repeats himself from time to time.) while this is the only duo we see, we could still link other themes to each Bishop.

Kallamar is the bishop of pestilence, but his domain is filled with beautiful crystals and sea life. So he could also take the part of "Beauty". Bishop of pestilence and beauty.

Heket, bishop of Famine. Could be linked to strength. What with her and her followers seeming more like brute force fighters in my opinion.

Leshy. Is the bishop of Chaos. Yet shows more restraint than his siblings when it comes to dealing with the Lamb in game. Thus, while he is of Chaos. He fits also as Order.

.... Ramble over.

Story idea is basically a little backstory of Lamb. Where they were a... Secret of Leshys'.

Not exactly a best friend or lover or anything like that. But Leshy let Lamb hide amongst his ranks via a custom cloak. Sometimes berating Lamb for not being careful enough and warning them, like a father would a child. If the danger they are caught. And the fact that if they are caught, Leshy can't help them. Leshy must play the part of Bishop at the end of the day. Wether he wants to or not. For his family.

... Aka, story is basically Leshy being Lambs' "parental guardian" or Papa worm.

-Cult Follower Sunny Anon.

My dear Child

The air was thick with the cloying scent of smoke. Fire licking along the ground, consuming everything in it's path. Buildings, his trees, lives, everything, nothing was safe.

Nothing except the small bundle nestled beneath Leshy's cloak.

The Bishop of Chaos walked languidly though the carnage. His siblings waited for him but he was in no rush. He would tell them he was simply being thorough. Making sure none had escaped.

"Baa~" moving his cloak aside he stared down at the little creature that slept so serenely within his arms. Gently he ran a finger along the babe's face. They nuzzled into his hand and it made something in his chest ache.

Leshy was not sorry for what he and his family had done. It was necessary and they, he would not regret it. But as he stared down at the lamb's sleeping face, unaware of the horrors transpiring around them he could not help but feel something.

"I do not know what compelled me to take you. You are a risk, a liability." He spoke quietly, remiss to wake his resting charge.

"But..." Leshy trailed off as he stood at the steps of his temple. Leaning down he rested his forehead against theirs.

"But you are mine now and I will keep you safe."

[licncourt]

after ur louis post, do you have any headcanons about lestat’s brothers/teen lestat and his childhood in general

Yes, of course!!

The most important thing to remember about Lestat is that he's an annoying theater kid so he's the easiest target imaginable for his macho older brothers. However the theater kid energy is also what protects him psychologically because as a rule they are immune to shame.

He really wants to hold his own against his brothers but is just. Kind of a string bean. He picks fights to try to prove himself and loses them every time. Gabrielle feels bad for her failson though so she teaches him to bite and go for the eyes and the balls eventually. That ups his average slightly.

In general, he thinks his older brothers are brutish hillbillies (like the Marquis) and looks up to his mother much more. He takes after her the most in his desire to be worldly and expand his horizons behind their small, dull world. His father and brothers would rather be the undisputed masters of what they have.

He also looks a lot like Gabrielle as a teenager, before finishing puberty fully. Even after, he looks the most like her out of his siblings and is happy about it. He thinks it makes him look more aristocratic and less boorish.

He's trying really hard to get laid but it doesn't super work. That's extra embarrassing because he's bi so getting rejected double. Every once in a while he wins someone over with his puppy-that-hasn't-grown-into-its-paws-yet charm and fluffy hair.

Even though he's not the most athletic of his brothers, he's the hardest worker because he feels like he has the most the prove to their father. What he lacks in brute strength he makes up for with ingenuity and the all-consuming desire for parental approval.

When Gabrielle felt like allowing it (she wasn't actively avoiding him), he was his mother's shadow. He follows her around as much as he can, trying to mimic the poise and cultured air she had left over from her upbringing. The memory of watching her do her makeup is how he learned to do his own so quickly in the theater and her old gowns from Italy gave him his passion for beautiful clothes. He always appreciated them more than she did.

He's completely devoted to his dogs. They're his closest friends and confidantes, something that loves him unconditionally. He hunts extra game if he can to feed them as well as he feeds himself and spends his spare time whittling them toys out of branches or making them out of fabric scraps and straw.

Singing always came naturally to him and that was the only thing he liked about religion, the hymns he learned. He'd make up his own songs too. He couldn't read or write, so it was easier to make poems and remember them if he sang it.

If he can sneak away during the afternoons, he liked to find a certain wealthy house in the village where the sons always took their lessons near the open window on pleasant days. He'd noticed it once passing by and returned whenever he could to eavesdrop. He couldn't write anything down, but being illiterate gave him a good memory. Those bits and pieces of education were what kept him going sometimes, a reminder of the bigger, wider world.

[hananoami]

[ Open Orbit ] Stage 120 Clear VOD

I was previously hard stuck on this stage for quite some time; since 04/21 according to my earliest blog entry about this stage here. What originally started off as a meme attempt run turned into an actual CLEAR!! After a few attempts in the second half that is... (ᵕ—ᴗ—) Before I go in depth about my experience some notable information about this fight-- Stage 120 is the final stage that's currently available in the Deepspace Trials until the next big update in July. Like all x0 stages it requires two teams: Team 01 uses 6-Emerald memories Team 02 uses 6-Violet memories. TBH, I'm still in shock over this clear. I really didn't expect to clear it using the memories and protocores I had equipped. Literally awestruck as I'm writing this, reflecting on everything. Below are my thoughts and reflection about this wild adventure, as well as my final team set up and stat attributes.

BEFORE AND AFTER

Here's my before and after team set up for Open Orbit - Stage 120. I want to note this change was made as a meme/suggestion amongst friends during Xavier's Shimmering Moonlight limited-time banner. It was due to me getting super duper lucky with my pulls, which I will write about soon. Originally I wanted to respect the Protofield Stellactrum and match the colors for the perfect match and additional bonuses. I usually try to match the stellactrum because every bit of stats helps. However, I also want to mention that there have been instances where I opt to go off color and attempt to brute force it. For the record, this would be the most notorious one I have ever brute forced. It's not that I haven't attempted to brute force this stage before. I have. My Violet build with Rafayel was lacking in CRIT and I wasn't entirely satisfied with the protocores I rolled. So I tried to brute force it with my Zayne foreseer build, using his highest leveled memories. Usually that build carries me hard since it has a duo rank i bonus. however I still wasn't able to clear it due to lack of damage. My plan was to farm for more protocores. Specifically look for better delta cores with CRIT rate as its main stat and upgrade the ones with better substats to swap out what I currently had equipped. It's a long grind. Protocore farming is the true gacha in this game, unlike the wish pool where you're guaranteed a memory from pity. You never know what you'll get or if you'll even see what you're looking for. Well, like I mentioned earlier I got really lucky with my pulls for Xavier's banner and came out with his new myth pair at Duo Rank 3. I had cores from my SN build I could have used, but since I didn't need oath recovery anymore (duo rank ii bonus replaces having to equip that stat) I had two options to choose from-- Expedited Energy Boost or Oath Strength. So I tapped some beta cores to see what I could work with. You know, the usual trial and error testing. As luck would have it, as I was gambling my protocore upgrades I somehow managed to roll 2 Expedited Energy Boost cores with similar substats. A friend who was watching me tap away suggested that I try to brute force the fight again, but this time use my new Xavier solars/EEB protocores for the second half and use Zayne for the first half. I'm always down to try new things. So we decided to science it. Xavier's Moonlight myths is my first duo rank 3 pair. I was genuinely curious to see if it would be possible to clear open orbit - stage 120. Narrator voice: Lumiere cleared the fight with flying colors. (even if it did take him several attempts during the second half, hehe) The disrespect though lmao. It just goes to show you that there is no right or wrong way to play the game. Match the colors. Don't match the colors. You should use whatever is available to you and works best for you. Just have fun with it ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

ADDITIONAL SCREENSHOTS

Team A team set-up and stat attributes

Companion: Zayne's Foreseer Weapon: Everlasting Song ♡ Affinity Bonus: 88 When you take a fatal blow, Zayne teleports to you, blocks a hit, and counter attacks. Enemies will be knocked back. [ HP 3400 || DEF 85 || ATK 170 ] Pair Bonus [FS] - Starting Effect: increases team DMG by 8%, and reduces team DMG taken by 8%. When fighting together with Foreseer, your Active Skill DMG is increased by 25%. - Duo Rank 1: boosts Ardent Oath charge by 20%. When you and Foreseer are granted with Wards of Curses, team DMG will be increased by 12%.

5☆ Forever Sealed (sapphire/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 1 using +9 and +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Promise Everlasting (sapphire/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using +9 and +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Business Trip (sapphire/lunar) Lv 80 rank 3 using +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Hearts Within Reach (sapphire/lunar) Lv 80 rank 1 using +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Cozy Afternoon (ruby/lunar) Lv 80 rank 3 using +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Medical Rescue (Ruby/lunar) Lv 70 using +9 SSR protocores

Team B team set-up and stat attributes

Companion: Xavier's Lumiere Weapon: Moonchaser ♡ Affinity Bonus: 93 When you take a fatal blow, Xavier teleports to you, blocks a hit, and counter attacks. Enemies will be knocked back. [ HP 3600 || DEF 90 || ATK 180 ] Pair Bonus [MN] - Starting Effect: increases team DMG by 8%, and reduces team DMG taken by 8%. The Enemy [Moonstruck] is extended by 3 seconds. - Duo Rank 1: boosts Ardent Oath charge by 20%. [Moonlight] will attach 1 stack of [Phasing Moon] to the enemy, increasing DMG dealt by 25%. - Duo Rank 2: increases Energy Charge cap by 1. When [Moonlight] is activated, the cooldown time of your Active and Resonance Skill is reduced by 0.5 seconds, and a small amount of energy charge is restored. - Duo Rank 3: increases team DMG by 8%. When your Active Skill or Charged Attack hits a target with [Moonstruck], [Moonlight] will be activated, boosting CRIT DMG by 30%.

5☆ Midnight Whispers (amber/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 3 using +9 SSR protocores

5☆ Midnight Rainfall (amber/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 3 using +9 SSR protocores

5☆ Unique Aftertaste (ruby/lunar) Lv70 rank 1 using +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Tender Night (amber/lunar) Lv70 rank 1 using +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Romantic Afternoon (emerald/lunar) Lv70 rank 1 using +9 and +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Fluffy Trap (emerald/lunar) Lv70 rank 1 using +9 protocores

[trrickytickle]

Clima-Tactics 🍊⛈️

A/N: i am a 🧪💥 SCIENTIFIC 💥🧪 gal. me and my brother went to the science museum of Hong Kong (where we are vacationing + childhood home!) and we watched a demonstration of static electricity and how it works through cool experiments. And I felt like I wanted to share science to you guys because I thought it was cool. I think everything is cool. And I like tickle fanfic so it's the best way to be sciencing. Also scienTIFFICALLY🤓 i don't think electricity can work as a tk tool. But One Piece operates by One Piece rules.

(post Alabasta. lee!Usopp, ler!Nami)

Nami uses her wiles to get even with Usopp after another loss thanks to the Clima-Tact's many built in party tricks.

tagging @duckymcdoorknob bc lee usopp

Again.

Nami had lost yet another fight. The cat burglar was particularly flimsy when it came to using brute force to get herself out of tough situations– now, however, she knew why she had walked away from a group of muscular small-time bandits broken and bruised, and it certainly wasn't because of her own incapabilities.

It was all thanks to the Clima-Tact.

Usopp's invention was intended to be a weapon tailored specifically to Nami's strengths. But unlike the maps she made, the directions were unclear and resulted in flashy theatrics and bitty little bubbles rather than the flashes of blinding sunlight and flashing, crackling thunder that the liar promised. Sure, she earned a victory with it during a small skirmish in Alabasta (somehow, Nami still didn't believe that she managed to take down such a powerful Baroque Works agent), but she was still a novice, mostly due in part to her tendency to back out.

Huffing and grumbling, she decided to alleviate this affliction in the only way she thought she could- which was taking it up with the inventor himself. Getting even, she called it.

"Usopp."

With Nami's scowl of a siren scorned, the door to the male sleeping quarters of the Going Merry creaked open, startling said long-nosed man with a jolt and causing him to jump up quickly from where he was working on a new trinket alone.

"Wh-wh-wh-what is it!?" Usopp's eyes just about popped out of his skull as he was met with the glare of a battered and enraged Nami, expecting a brutal knuckle sandwich.

"How come your huge blue party-popper keeps making sparkles and fireworks whenever I want to beat the tar out of someone!? I thought this was supposed to be a weapon!" Nami ranted, shaking Usopp by the straps of his brown overalls.

"Hey! Like I said, t-the Clima-Tact is a different kind of weapon... it plays to your strengths!" Usopp continued backing away from the quite-literally-fiery redhead, fearing the worst as usual.

"Last time I checked, the new instructions you gave me the other day did not create an "army of fierce lightning clouds that would leave people stunned with bright thunder". You know what they did, though? You know what they did!?"

"Wh-"

"Glitter! Why, you- The "Firebolt Tempo".... made glitter!" Nami yelled, brandishing the very weapon she was tearing to shreds. Usopp whimpered in fear, stammering and attempting to come up with an amicable way of wording his intentions.

"Those were instructions for a new party trick!" he squeaked out.

"You're damn right they were..." Nami brandished the Clima-Tact in a way Usopp didn't like. Rearranging the pieces and clicking them in place, she began to strike with a sly grimace.

"Thunderbolt Tempo!"

Cool Balls and Heat Balls floated around in the quarters, accumulating into a cloud from their combined chain reaction of condensation. However, as soon as a singular Thunder Ball barely kissed the small cloud, not a single lick of roaring thunder was produced from it.

The liar sighed in relief. Due to a misplacement of one of the three weather batons, there was a meager amount of Cool Balls produced compared to the concentration of Heat Balls which were just hot enough to cause them to evaporate into clouds. Less precipitation lingered than usual, and as a result there was but a tiny zap of lightning coming out of the cute little cloud.

Usopp blinked in confusion, giving Nami a nervous smirk in both his relief and fear. Dusting himself off, he rubbed his hands on the dusty brown fabric of his clothing, and as he was attempting to walk out of the room, the kzzzt of an electric shock caused him to double over.

There was a charge– almost like a force field surrounding him, worsening as he tried to swat it off his overalls. They didn't hurt- but they certainly felt agonizing. Not quite as painful as a bug's bite, though– they almost tickled.

They really tickled.

"Ggk! Ng-hh-HA!" Usopp mustered out through every lick of electricity, now laying flat on the floor and trying to avoid the inevitable small shocks by kicking his legs and flailing around. What was this irritating technique!?

Pull yourself together! You're the great Captain Usopp!! he thought to himself, as if he was physically fighting bolts of lightning.

Nami could only smile coyly at the sight.

Static electricity. That was what it was. The small amount of lightning caused by the failed Thunderbolt Tempo resulted in a static charge being imparted onto Usopp, who had spread it further through the friction between his hand and his overalls. The zaps of static now blitzed across his body, causing him to coil, flinch and titter around pathetically as he spreads the charge further.

Oh, this was going to be sweet.

"Hghk! kkKEEE-yihahahahaha! Ahaha-hahaha! Ny-yeee! EEEahaha! Wha-ha-nNy-NAMI!! Whahat is this!? GEHE-hettitoff! PLEASE!! I'll make better instructions, I'd do anything!!"

"Alright then. 500 Berries. Hand 'em over." Nami deadpanned.

"KHAHAHA! Zoro was right, you're a wi-hitch! I said I'm sohOhORRY!!!" Usopp flailed, jolts of lightning crawling across every tickly crevice. The more he moved, the more the sparks would spread, causing his laughter to become more and more erratic.

"Well, if you're not gonna give me any money, then I guess I won't do a thing about it." There was a smug and haughty grin square on Nami's face as she looked down at him. "I think I'll lay back on the deck and watch."

As the pathetic noodling continued, some of the other Straw Hats were drawn to the scene, to Nami's delight. Luffy scampered over, Robin was politely laughing in the comfort of her deck chair with a book by her side, and Zoro only turned in annoyance, the situation interrupting his training.

"You look stupid!" Luffy snickered at his sniper, commenting on him in a matter-of-fact way.

"LUFFY! LU-HUHU-FFY! HELP ME!" Usopp pleaded, curling himself up in a ball as the begging and crying for help didn't help matters– not that it did, but the contortion had only made matters worse as it packed the charges further together, causing them to tickle a hell of a lot more. He of course did not realize, continuing to squeal, thrash and cry out.

"Don't help him, Luffy. He deserves this." Nami stated.

"Okay." Simple-minded as he was, he followed his navigator's order.

Amidst the sparks of static, Nami couldn't help but notice a couple of things. One- Usopp looked like a total idiot. Two- The electricity spread to almost every crevice of his body. It was obviously mildly irritating in some areas, varying in frequency and strength, but when it sparked across ticklish flesh, the feathery pins-and-needles feeling was too much for him to bear. And three- The two spots that were safe from the shocking assault were only protected by his shoes.

And so, Nami bent down to the sniper's level just to tease him some more.

"Oh, boy. You do realize this wouldn't have happened if your stupid weapon didn't make me lose all the time!" she ranted. "Hm, I wonder..."

She looked down at Usopp's footwear, as the sniper gulped in fear, just knowing what deed was about to be done. Enough mischievous glares and wiggling fingers from Kaya since after a risky fib about how "Captain Usopp was not, in any capacity, ticklish" and tag-team attacks from the Usopp Pirates were all that he needed to know to decipher Nami's intention as she held his calf in one hand, feeling the tingle of the tact's discharge of electricity on her fingertips– and yanked his shoe off with a clatter onto the deck.

"N-NO!!!" he squeaked out. Nami's touch was deft– not even the slight shock she received upon her left hand's contact with his skin could stop her. At the mercy of her diligent thieving fingers, Usopp attempted to feign strength– that, he did often, but rarely succeeded at, and at this rate this would be an example of his many failures. He gritted his teeth. He thrashed his head around hiding involuntary laughter with a grimace. He moved about as much as he could, then resorted to not showing any movement at all. But even with the effort to show all that bravado, the sniper soon sang like a bird.

"Please! PLEE-HEEASE!"

"What." Nami said snidely.

"PLEASE STO-HO-HOP!!!"

"Please... pay me first." She gave a small wink, smirking as she skittered fingers across tan flesh. Luffy, who was stretching his neck out to observe the situation, careened from down the crow's nest as he inched too close to the two weaklings, did what he felt like doing– as he did, and grabbed Usopp's other foot for Nami's convenience, whistling innocently.

"NYA-haha! LUFFY! SHE DIDN'T SAY TO HEE-HEHELP!" On the liar's part, this was the truth. Luffy tended to ignore the truth and live his own– so Usopp was completely ignored, and as a result, Nami continued to exploit the amount of freedom she had over his karmic retribution, smiling the whole way through tickling him to pieces. Both of her hands tickled away on his now-flushed soles, one foot kicking in hysterics. The captain also helped from time to time, randomly stretching out a rubber arm to poke and prod, finding fun in the situation. Even while the electricity subsided, she still kept at it sadistically.

"Heehee! You're so funny!" Luffy giggled, poking Usopp's nose while he caught his breath through silent laughter, then continuing to coil around him and make conversation as if he wasn't basically choking on his own laughter.

However what the two other crew members failed to realize in the moment was that Usopp was quite the jack of all trades– artistic talent, marksmanship and a surprising tolerance for insects were some he sported. While cackling from the touch of wayward sparks and graceful mapmaking fingers, the clattering of silver coins came from the two jean pockets at the sides of his overalls. Nami felt merciful for only a moment, eyes shining bright as Berries when she saw the currency on the floor, hoarding each coin with a girlish glee.

Usopp heaved, falling flat in a position akin to a starfish as he hyperventilated from silent laughter and wheezes, feeling the numbness of his limbs and ghostly swipes of electricity across his skin.

"You're forgiven."

There was a pause in Nami's short sentence.

"But counting the loss at the island yesterday, and the Mirage Tempo failure... and the 10 other prior losses... you actually owe me 6000 Berries."

She finished her explanation with a snide wink. A comical drop of sweat fell down Luffy's forehead, and Usopp's jaw dropped in shock.

"Pay up."

[miyakuli]

Digimon Survive

Digimon Survive is a visual novel with tactical rpg part that breathes new life into the franchise, and may be a good way for newcomers to discover this universe and its bestiary. Personally, I only had distant childhood memories of the first animated adaptation I watched, but despite this I was able to immerse myself easily in this new story, which is much darker in tone. However, while the visual novel is pretty good, I wasn't totally convinced by the other aspects of the game.

❤ A mix between the naive, childlike side of the original series and a much darker, more violent tone that works quite well. ❤ The visual novel part is not based on static images, but on high-quality animated sprites, which liven up each dialogue scene. The scenery is equally well done. ❤ Rather endearing characters with good development (even the most unbearable ones become likeable). ❤ On the dubbing side, the actors do a very good job, and on the Japanese side, the original seiyuus are even used for the digimon voices - a nice touch! ❤ I liked the fact that the affinity between the characters was linked to the evolution of their digimons, which encouraged me to talk to each of them and get to know them so I could make the right dialogue choices. So it played on my attachment to the characters and also to my desire to unlock each evolution x)

+/- Significant replayability (3 "normal" endings, 1 bad ending and the true ending). These endings are attained through a system of auras (virtue/harmony/wrath) that are increased according to our dialogue choices....but they will always be placed in exactly the same place (for example, the answer to increase the harmony statute will always be in the bottom right-hand corner). This makes our work easier (==)" For my first game, I personally like to make choices based on my mentality, without knowing which dialogue will influence which stat, so I discover the ending I've set myself. Here, the fact of knowing indirectly influenced me, and I'd have preferred them to save that for the New game+. +/- The musical themes are pretty (especially the main theme), a little redundant because there aren't many of them, but they never bore. On the other hand, I found that some scenes had music that didn't quite fit in with the atmosphere and action going on, it was a bit weird. +/- The true ending provides real redemption for certain characters who were really annoying to begin with. On the other hand, I found it a lot of length with constant back and forth (probably to stretch the story, but it doesn't add anything) and the ending is nice, but nothing more. I found the "virtue" ending more impactful.

✖ The tactical combat system is laborious and almost boring. The tactical side is bland; we're presented with a strength/weakness system based on elemental abilities (water/air etc…) but in the end it doesn't really matter as brute force will win out almost all the time...also, the fights are SLOW!!!! you can speed them up via the menu (I set them to x2 because I couldn't take it anymore). ✖ The method for recruiting digimons is really not that great; you're given a sort of quiz with the digimon you want to get, and unless you know the universe really well, you just guess at the answers and hope it works, but sometimes the solutions are really lunar (or maybe it's the translation that doesn't sound right). ✖ The Skip function, which allows you to skip through the text you've already read if you want to complete the various endings, is far too slow, and you can't even skip through the evolution animations. This discouraged me from finishing all the endings in a row. ✖ The map during exploration phases is ugly and not very practical, I find, and the constant change of music as the map opens is annoying.

Digimon Survive is bound to be a divisive game, as the balance between visual novel and combat is clearly not equitable (70/30% in my opinion). Personally, this wasn't a problem for me, as I'm used to this genre, but it's true that the tactical combat phases are this title's major weakness. At least it gave me a pleasant nostalgic feeling at the side of these little digimons (🎶are the champions!🎶).

➡ My personal VN ranking (in french) ➡ My Steam page

[simlit]

All odd numbers for Kyrie!😁

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

I think he'd wish he could forget that he was given to the church as a baby. Not necessarily because he wants to reunite or even know his birth parents, he doesn't. But it's a constant reminder that he, quite literally, doesn't belong there. That he was given away as if he was a tool or some material good. It's just a lot to carry around with you.

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

Fear of failure. Something that has only recently made itself evident to him (and me lol). In a way, he's a people pleaser. He doesn't want to disappoint those around him. He fears the ripple of consequences that might stem from his domino falling first, and doesn't want to be the person responsible for a larger collapse, so he sort of keeps to his duty as a cog, despite how he might not align with the objective.

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

I would say... not very. He's lazy, certainly, but he's also sheltered, incredibly inexperienced, and lacks the means to get what he wants through pure brute strength, power or smarts. That being said, if the obstacle is something he can overcome, I think he'd be more inclined to actually try.

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

I made Kyrie almost as a blank slate so that I could easily adapt him to the circumstances of the story. Because CotS is both interactive and filled with characters I didn't create, he had to be someone who could blend well with all types of people, and not have many "hardstops" so to speak, morally or otherwise. But along the way I've tried to make someone who is an "open template" entertaining, and I think Kyrie's almost lackadaisical unbothered humor emerged from all of ~that~. I didn't go in planning him to be such a huge fucking troll, but I'm glad he has his "thing". In a story with so many strong personalities, it would have been easy to get overtaken by the other cast members.

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

"That's abominable." Because it's just so damn funny.

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Yes, he has one, and no he doesn't use it. And it's been called into question multiple times in the story, and I still don't think a damn one of them knows the actual truth yet lmao. It's funnier that way. It wouldn't save him from getting murdered, obviously. It would probably just get him murdered faster.

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

Absolutely. If he wasn't so hot. Because honestly every time I look at him I just want to punch him in the face so 100% the conversation would go no where and I'd get arrested.

Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

No he doesn't.

What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

I kind of... took his sister. Mean Jade go grr. I have this terrible habit of killing off loving sisters. I leave the bad ones though. Elsera says hi.

How does your OC behave when enraged?

He's one of those awful people who just gets stoic and civil when angry. As Tay said while having the absolute pleasure of being on the other end of it: that's probably worse. He's not been confronted with a situation that would make him exceptionally angry though, i.e. nothing life or death, so maybe that would change.

Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

He doesn't.

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

I think it would be loss. Which I guess is a generic answer, since it's pretty typical of human nature not to handle loss well. But I think when you have so very little in your life that is truly meaningful, then you're grasping at straws and have nothing to distract you from your grief. I think in the story currently, he's in a constant state of bracing. Trying to remain outwardly hopeful even though his body is already starting to reject the premise that things will turn out well, and that putting so much mental strength into denying it, degrades his focus in other facets of his life. Outside of the few moments where he's truly and genuinely amused, I do feel he's starting to lose himself under the pressure he would have, otherwise, been able to stand against without hesitation. I can't really imagine him in a place where he has to accept that loss is real, and I don't know how or if he can cope with it when it does.

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

I love what a huge fuckin TROLL he is. Sorry, it's so entertaining to me. It's one of my main reasons for preferring him with ~certain~ members of the cast. Mostly the ones who are ripe for riling up ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[blackpink-jane]

　　　 ꢾ꣒　　𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧arios ! < 2016 >

　　　　　𐔌　　disclaimers: jane does some aegyo that creeps the hell outta jin and jen, featuring some special guests ! pls understand jen and jane have a very love-(playfully)hate relationship lol, not proofread.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❪ jane masterlist ❫

𝐢. a fire hazard

　　　 ໒ྀི꒰ ◞ ‌ ◟ ꒱ྀིა‎　｡　｡ moodboard creds: @iluvrei

The blaring sound of the fire alarm mixed with Jennie's high-pitched squeals has Jane waving at the smoke from the alarm with the dishcloth, with teeth-clenching aggression.

If this thing doesn't stop wailing in the next few seconds...

It doesn't, and Jane takes measure into her own hands using a broomstick and some good old-fashioned brute strength. The alarm's blaring gradually descends into a malfunctioning wine with each hit of the wooden end of the broom, before the dorm goes completely silent.

Well, relatively silent...sans for a certain wuss' muffled cries.

Jane hops down from the marble counter with the kind of ease that clearly shows she makes counter park core a daily activity (but do not for the life of her tell jin that), tosses the broom to the floor with a clatter, and eyes the girl curled up in thr corner of the small kitchen with a judgy gaze.

"Jen, you can stop crying now ya know."

Jennie slowly looks up from her arms, warily inspecting the stove area and the alarm that's dangling by a single wire for dear life.

"Is there fire out ?" she slowly stands to approach the scene, one hand jutting out to hold onto Jane's wrist just incase danger reappears and she's in need of an effective shield.

Jane drops her eyelids. "There was no fire, Jen. Just smoke. Only smoke," she pats the brunette's head once, twice, in mock comfort, before pointing a warning finger at her. "So don't go telling Jin-"

But her warning gets cut off by the front door swinging open, three pairs of footsteps shuffling in ; and before Jane can quickly rush out what she wanted to say, the familier residents of the apartment appear in the kitchen, immediately smelling something is not right – literally.

Before either one if the boys could question it, Jennie is already shooting an arm out to point out the culprit.

Slowly, with a clenched jaw and slitted eyes, Jane turns her head to fellow member – who had just completely, and shamelessly, yeeted her under the bus.

"I figured," Jin props the plastic bags he had been carrying onto the kitchen island. "Which is why I brought backup !"

Jennie tries to muffle her snort, but she's lucky Jane is too busy gaping in offense at her brother to notice.

"Hey ! You didn't even have a littlest faith in me ?"

"Dope, I never have faith in you. That's Junho's job." Jin says casually as he begins to unpack the food contents of the plastic bags.

Jane sends a sneer his way before settling a puppy-dog gaze onto the two boys standing behind her brother. "Hobi oppa ? Joon oppa ? You guys had faith in me, right ?"

Jennie was completely gagged at the aegyo voice, whilst Jin was completely and utterly disgusted – partly because it was disturbing, but also because he knows it somehow always works on his hyungs. He hasn't quite figured out the science behind that yet.

As expected, both of the older boys melt into a warm smile at the younger girl with insanely red hair.

"We did, don't worry Jeinie !" Hoseok cokes over to sweetly pat her shoulder, to which Jane responds to with a hug, and the older happily returns it with a smile.

Everyone in the room that isn't a Hwang sibling completely misses the mocking tongue Jane sticks out at Jin as he side-eye's the pair.

"Wah ! Jjajangmyeon and tteokokki !"

Jane's attention cut towards her member that's leaping excitedly at the meal Jin and Namjoon are laying out. Her and Hoseok walk over, and her mouth instantly begins to water at the sight of the cheesy, spicy, delicious rice cakes.

As Jin distributes the meals equally, he leaves two bowls of tteokokki in the center, and subtly pushes the third in front of sister. No one objects as she's the biggest lover of the food here, and the extra one was bought specifically for her.

Jin will never reveal he had paid for it, solely because that would completely tarnish his reputation of the mean Hwang sibling.

[ask-professor-gohan]

professor Gohan what the strongest bugs in the world also if you weren’t an entomologist what would you be?

They're also the classic example of insect strength. I mean, what can't these little guys do?! They plow through the ground for their intricate tunnel systems, use their jaws to cut up everything from leaves to their enemies, and even build bridges and rafts by hanging from each others' bodies! The force of a trapjaw ant snapping its mandibles shut on a hard object can be enough to send itself flying several times its body length back, which looks silly but is a great escape route. And of course, they can lift tens of times their own body weight. To explain shortly, smaller animals have the potential to be very relatively strong because the surface area-volume ratio is more even at that scale. They weigh less and so have less to carry, so they can allocate strength to carrying larger objects than usual. A human-sized ant would be very strong, but not as proportionately strong as it was at its usual size. But let's move on from ants!

Apparently, the world's strongest insect and apparently overall strongest animal (once again relative to body mass!) is a dung beetle called Onthophagus taurus which has pulled more than 1,000 times its body weight in a study! This strength may have been sexually selected for due to males competing for females through competitions of brute strength. Beetles in the family Scarabaeidae are generally pretty strong, if you hold certain burrowing species in your hand you'll find that they can prise open your fingers quite easily!

The diabolical ironclad beetle (Phloeodes diabolicus) is another very strong beetle, but in a different way. Its exoskeleton, especially its elytra (the shell on its back), are incredibly durable and are constructed of layers that are meshed like puzzle pieces and cemented together by proteins that make them almost impossible to crush through natural means. The way the parts of the shell are interlaced also has given scientists a challenge to replicate their structure in human materials such as planes. Biomimicry is a crazy field! Also, you can imagine how notoriously difficult these things are to preserve for the... average entomologist.

(It's true. Entomologists, in the name of science, have run over these beetles with their cars and they just shrugged it off.)

I don't want to make this post too long (you're strong yourself for getting this far!), but I should give honorable mentions to our saltatorial (jumping) friends in the order Orthoptera, which are your grasshoppers, crickets, and katydids. Even less well-known (or rather less-respected) are the fleas, which I personally find fascinating because their closest relatives are likely scorpionflies! Who knew such a tiny, flat insect with no wings but powerful hindlegs could have evolved from potentially such a dainty-looking ancestor.

As for an alternate career path... I'm very grateful to be studying the insects I love so much, but I've always been interested in all the sciences. One of my backup plans was to become a researcher or lab technician at Capsule Corporation, which would have dealt largely with mechanical engineering. I wonder how that would have gone!