#and yes getting electrocuted hurts

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Joker Junior Tim but Tim's afraid of Harley and JJ loves Harley because that's his mom.

When Harley first found out that Tim was JJ and that the bats were the Waynes, she was torn. She wanted so bad to spend time with her son and to apologize, but she couldn't. She felt horrible for what she did.

Reason being is the first time she confronted Red Robin, or Robin at the time, while on patrol. She had found him on a roof and he had been so terrified of her he was shivering. Her heart hurt for Tim, who was scared of her.

She left him alone after that, always choosing to avoid the bird's line of sight and hearing range so he wouldn't be scared. It wasn't until one of the other bats talked to her, Oracle, that she decided to try to get close to Robin.

At first she started by sitting at the farthest end of the building where Tim was perched. She watched him for a few minutes before looking away. This happened several times.

At the point he stopped shivering and looking as tense as he used to be, she moved closer. Day by day, week by week, month by month, she got close to him till she was sitting next to him.

They had started up a friendship then. She would do most the talking, making motherly gestures here and there, till one day, he fell asleep on her. She had taken him to her house that winter night and tucked him into bed, kissing him goodnight and setting out breakfast, hot chocolate, and fresh clothes along with a bag the next morning.

He was scared, of course, this was a villain's anti-hero's house, you couldn't drop your guard too much.

He knew he shouldn't have trusted her.

"Goodmorning, kiddo. I made you some pancakes and hot chocolate. There's some clothes on the bedside and a bag for your costume, Timmy, that way you don't have to go home in that."

He stood frozen as he stared at the large stack of pancakes laid out. He slowly moved forward, taking the fork next to the plate and took a piece off of it.

He hesitated when biting it, but when he did, nothing was wrong with it. It tasted amazing.

He had almost choked several times when he scarfed down the pancakes, the best pancakes he's ever tasted if he does say so himself(sorry Alfred), and thanked her.

He changed and put his stuff in the bag before getting ready to leave, but he stopped himself.

He looked at her, and she looked confusedly at him.

"About the Joker.."

He didn't need to finish his sentence, she already knew.

She sat down and motioned him to sit in the seat next to her, so he did.

She didn't look him in the eye when she spoke. She talked for a while, told him about her relationship with the Joker, about how sorry she was about what she helped do to him, everything.

After that talk, their relationship changed. They became closer, the bats noticed.

Alfred, Bruce, and Barbara seemed indifferent to the change in their relationship, because they knew what happened. They were happy about it, even, about how well their relationship has grown.

At one point, though, things changed again. Red Robin was taken and electrocuted, triggering JJ to cone out. The bats were stuck, unable to do anything without JJ doing something in return, Red Hood was frozen in place despite himself.

It wasn't until Harley entered the scene that JJ ran to her, hugging her, calling her mama that he calmed down enough and started crying.

"Oh Junior, it's okay baby. Mommy's here."

Harley kept saying those comforts until Ivy arrived and swept them away.

"Hey!" Nightwing called out, prepared to go after them. Batman, however, stopped him, stepping up to Ivy.

"Have you got him?" he asked her. "Yes, we'll take care of him until he's better. Tomorrow's your only time I'm allowing you in my place to give him things. Your next visit is when he asks." She warned him. He nodded in return, unphased by her threat.

"B, why did you let them take him."

"There are things you don't know, about the time when Red Robin started out as Robin." Was the simple answer Batman gave them before he left, clearing out the area.

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 3- Gotham's most beloved

______________________________

"wha- AGHHHHHHH, SHIT, THIS ISN'T MY FAULT", you try to tell the system "STOP! PLEASE!"

Alfred runs to you, "Miss what's wrong?", when he touches you, he feels it too, he lets go immediately, thousands of questions on his head "Miss?"

The system cannot be known. Use 5000 points for memory erasure or face another penalty

Time: 5 minutes

Penalty: death

"I GET IT! STOP! IT WASN'T MY FAULT PLEASE!! I DIDN'T KNOW HE FOLLOWED! PLEASE STOP" You yell

After the penalty was over, your breathing was heavy, tears struck on your face, the food toppled over from your squirming and crying

Alfred is right there. Looking at you with shock and worry "Miss (Name) what-" before he could finish his question, you moved

-5000 points

•memory erasure 2 minutes

He forgets, now he's just standing there awkwardly, not knowing why 2 minutes ago while he was watching from afar it was neat cute set up but now it's messy and spilled

"Alfred... Why did you come!?" You yell at him

He seemed taken aback "Miss I just felt you shouldn't spend your birthday alone, I was worried"

The pain in your body has subsided and you stand up, getting out of the tent, not caring for the rain "Can't you just act like the rest of them!? Can't you just hate me!?!"

His eyes looked at you with pity, but that only fueled your anger, you didn't need pity, you didn't want pity

"But Miss, I'm not like the rest of them, I care-"

"No you don't. You feel obligated, you devoted yourself to Thomas and Martha, you feel devoted to take care of the only thing they left, Bruce. And your loyal to him and everyone Bruce cared about, the only reason you're here is because I share the blood of your previous masters, you're not here because of me. You don't know who I am" you yell

You have a right to feel angry, you just got electrocuted because of him, he doesn't know that, well, he forgot

He knows you're right, that's why he's doing this, he wants all he Wayne's to get along, that's what Thomas and Martha would want "Miss... I know master Bruce has his shortcomings, no father should have neglected their own daughter-"

"tell that to your own daughter, the one you left in England to serve the Waynes"

He freezes.

You don't understand why the authors of this concept write Alfred as a good guy

"How is Julia? When was the last time you saw her?" You ask "Go keep taking care of the Waynes leave me be"

"Miss (Name), you are also a Wayne" he says

"No I'm not, I am my mother's daughter, not Bruce's, how can I be his daughter when he doesn't act like my father?"

______________________________

You wake up feeling shitty, your body hurts, your brain hurts, and your heart feels heavy, you should be used to it by now

No one in this house is ever going to be on your side, Alfred didn't care about you, he just wanted to preserve Thomas and Martha Wayne's blood

He knew you've been going and living with your mother's last name

And you've just spent 5000 points, you were saving up to buy a mirror that could see back in your previous world, it was 1000000 points

This sucks. You wanted your mom, and your other mom... And your real dad, and your real siblings, not these condescending assholes

In every reincarnation story, it's either possible or impossible to return back to your original world, you don't know if it's possible

"System?"

Yes?

"Is it possible for my return... In my original world?"

It is possible

Holy fuck, you jump out of bed "How!?"

You already know how

"what!? No I don't!"

You do

"is this like a Dorothy situation? Do I just shut my eyes and click my heels three times?"

You sigh, you might as well try, you close your eyes, "there's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home"

You open them and find yourself still in your bedroom "Well now I just feel stupid."

"Miss (Name)?" A knock on your door, "Breakfast is ready, please come down" It's Alfred

You cringe and remember your outburst last night, you were just so angry that he made you fail your mission and got you electrocuted

After a few seconds of silence he knocked again "young Miss... Are you angry with me?" He asks

Yes you are. You don't like how he claims to care but whenever he sees you being bullied by one of Bruce's kids he doesn't reprimand them, whenever Bruce misses an award ceremony, he doesn't force him to go, how do you think you got away without being known as a Wayne for 2 years?

"I'm skipping breakfast" you say (no you're not)

From your 563th mission, you had to perform a violin concert without any of your family members attending, it was easy enough and the reward was a magic mini fridge that gives you whatever food you want

As by the system's words "A neglected reader isn't worthy of eating with their family, they eat alone"

You open the fridge and somehow end up with fresh hot pancakes and syrup

______________________________

You walk through the streets of Gotham, you're 12 your bag is loaded with shit, pepper spray, a pocket knife disguised as a ball pen, and a taser

Why is it always raining in Gotham?

You've been dodging Alfred for the past few days, you can't rely on your magic fridge forever since Alfred will start wondering if you're starving yourself or something

"Jollibee..." You see the building in a far distance, near it you see a child in worn out clothes, he seemed to be selling something

Ah... He's selling flowers...

As you spot the cart behind him still full, he didn't sell much, you also see some girl toys at the bottom of his cart

You enter the restaurant "3 orders of C3 please, to go"

"um miss... Can you please separate the orders, 2 and 1, for the 2 please add some peach mango pies" you add

You wait for a while, subtly eyeing the kid, and your hunch was right an even smaller girl came with two umbrellas, the boy had a little sister

After getting the order, you come near them, is this weird? Approaching a boy, a little younger than you and giving them food, the boy looked about 8 and the girl 6

"Miss..." He looks embarrassed "We can't pay you for the food..."

"that's fine, just give me a flower" you smile "And also... Do you live in a neighborhood?", he tilts his head "Yes Miss I do"

"you should just work for your neighbors, don't stray too far from home, Gotham is dangerous" you feel kind of a hypocrite since you use to do the same things this boy did, at an even younger age "so your sister won't have to fetch you when it's raining, both of you might get sick"

He smiled at you "Yes Miss, thank you again"

You walk away, no matter how many years you've been living here, you still hate it, you were either born very lucky or very unlucky in Gotham

You see a woman under a bus stop on call with someone on her phone "Sweetie... Mommy is going to be late tonight, I don't have an umbrella, just sit tight there okay?" She hangs up "Should I just make a run for it?" You hear her say

Then you remember, your mom once came home soaked and feverish, she had promised to buy you takeout since you cooked for her the day before, she was worried you'd sleep without eating anything so she ran through the rain to be able to eat with you

It was fine, you had a jacket anyway, you pull the hood of your jacket to your head and approach the lady "Ma'am, do you need this?" You hand her your umbrella

She looked shocked "oh I can't possibly take this from you!", you give it to her nonetheless "It's alright ma'am, I have a jacket and my house is very near" (the house is a lie obviously), she smiles at you "Thank you so much, I left my daughter at home and god knows how hungry she is right now, take care okay? The roads are slippery" she says before leaving

You underestimated the rain and ended up soaking wet by the time you're at the manor, Alfred greets you and he looks away from you, he seems worried about your state but is ashamed

Then you hand him the flower you got earlier "Im sorry I lashed out" you say

"thank you miss... And I'm sorry for disturbing you when you visited your mother, I shouldn't have overstepped" he says

He meets your eyes and guides you to sit down at the kitchen, he comes back with a towel and dries you off

You need at least one person who cares for you, at least one

______________________________

You wake up the next day, finally comfortable to eat downstairs because reconciling with Alfred, you're the first one here, guess the family is still asleep, or maybe they already ate, you don't know, you pick up a news paper and-

"Gotham's angel.

Spotted giving food to children, and giving away her umbrella in the cold rain, we found that this kind girl is none other than Bruce Wayne's hidden daughter! After investigating some more we found out that (Name) Wayne donates books and toys to an orphanage without even her own father knowing!"

"Because that's the orphanage I stayed in!" You panic, you wanted to still be able to visit the few friends you managed to make in your days there

"She also tutors children from a poor neighborhood for years without charge and doesn't tell her family! True kindness doesn't need an audience but years of compassion from (Name) Wayne should be recognized, she's been helping other people for years without anyone knowing, a true angel!"

"That place was my old neighborhood!? What is this angel bullshit???" Hello??? Again those children are your friends!??

You've unlocked a special event!

Most Neglected readers blend in the background, but in some cases, they become popular through either being a celebrity or becoming a business man

You have become famous! Continue being famous and gain fans!

Special mission: Make the public like you even more, to 100%

Public love meter: 60%

Time: 1 week

Special reward: bulletproofing (Gotham is a dangerous place! Who says you need to be from krypton for bullets to bounce off you? Everything you wear becomes bulletproof!)

"So... If non-common tropes of neglected au can happen... Like if the reader gets famous, does this mean I can get superpowers?" You whisper to yourself

No you cannot. You already have me, don't be greedy ಠ⁠ಗ⁠ಠ

"ah.. sorry system" you whisper again

______________________________

Reader: having flashbacks to when she was poor and doing good deeds to those she meets that resembles her past situation

Gotham: an angel?

______________________________

@yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist

[blueberrymocha]

doing your hair ⊹ ࣪ ˖

┌──────────────────────┐

╰┈➤ fluff

➣ characters: gon, killua, kurapika, leorio, hisoka, illumi, chrollo

➣ word count: x

└──────────────────────┘

gon:

- he mostly does simple styles like ponytails but it looks great

- you weren't really expecting him to be good at this

- but i guess mito taught him some hidden skills

- he's so down to brush/comb your hair

- and would be happy to just play with it while you lay on his lap

- if you're sick or feeling down, he'd help you take care of it

- the one thing he's not good at is using the tools

- as in, one of y'all has a 50/50 chance of being electrocuted if you ask him to blow dry your hair

killua:

- he's not an expert but he wouldn't turn you down

- likes the idea of you sitting in his lap watching some show while he plays with your hair

- which is what he'll end up doing, playing with it

- it's gonna look even worse and you'll have to do it yourself anyway

- you're not complaining though

- he probably wouldn't want to wash it or anything

- just cause i see him having super low maintenance hair

- so when he sees all the work you have to put in, he's like no ty

kurapika:

- he'll pass on doing it for you

“i’m sure you’re a lot better than me, love.”

- but if you asked him to brush, comb, take it down, unbraid, etc he'd love to

- is afraid to hurt you, which makes him so gentle it ends up taking much longer than it needs to

- would also put on a show and have a drawn out conversation, which also extends the time it takes

- every now and then he’ll tug on it or threaten to make it look silly

- because the normality of it all creates the most soothing environment for him to let his guard down

- it's actually quite relaxing for him to run his hands through your hair

- so he'll offer sometimes if he had a stressful day

- as for washing it, he'll generally help you unless he's super exhausted or busy

leorio:

- honestly you're brave if you let this man touch it

- he's a 4 in one soap kinda guy

- you'll ask him to do a simple bun and you'll never get that hair tie back

- it's legit lost in your hair

- anytime he tries to tie your hair back/up, he just misses half of it

- you're way better off just doing it yourself

- likes to watch you do it though, even something easy would blow his mind

hisoka:

- he's really good at doing hair

- you're a little scared at first but he takes it seriously

- no way is his dearest s/o leaving the house looking a mess

- but he’ll of course play around with you first

"are you sure you want me to curl your hair? that's putting yourself in a vulnerable position."

“i think i’ll take a couple inches off here.”

- he has you preparing for 2nd degree burns and scheduling appointments

- but once he's done and you see how skilled he is, you'll ask him to help out with other things too

- so now he's ended up being dragged into helping you on washday and styling your hair for formal events

- at least you got the last laugh

illumi:

- he's the king of taking care of his hair

- i mean just look at it, the length? yes please

- when it comes to yours though, you'd probably need to beg if you want him to style it

- once he finally relents, he's gonna go all out

- you'd be getting some complex, time consuming braid

- it looks great though, and he'd take pride if you showed it off

- if you have easy maintenance hair, he doesn't mind helping you wash, dry, brush, whatever it

- but if your hair needs more care or a long routine, he'd just leave that to you

chrollo:

- he might pull your hair back into a ponytail or bun every now and then

- like when you're cooking or even before a fight

- and if you want, he'll do a simple protective braid when you're about to fall asleep

- so if you asked him to style your hair, he'll do it with no complaints

- since he himself has short hair, he really doesn't know much

- would read up on hair maintenance though

- if you ever shower together, he's definitely gonna wash your hair for you

- otherwise he believes you're more than capable of taking care of it yourself

[huxhsz]

✈ — weightless paradise

transmigrated non-mc!reader x caleb

prev ch: 01 - "first" meet┆series masterlist ┆next ch: 03 -regeneration

This isn’t how the game was supposed to go. You're not supposed to be here. You're an anomaly. But if you’re already here, then… can’t you just enjoy it for now? Just for a little while? Before the main story begins? Before everything inevitably falls into place? ...Right?

— content warning/s:

non-consensual medical & scientific experimentation

torture and pain (electrocution, physical restraint)

implied abuse and dehumanization

cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

CH. 02 — EXPERIMENT

You hear the screaming before you see them.  

High-pitched and thin, broken in places where their breath cuts out.  

You freeze. Your hand tightens automatically around Caleb’s wrist. His fingers flex beneath yours, but he doesn’t pull away. His gaze sharpens, head tilting slightly toward the sound.  

You know that voice.  

The door slides open with a soft hiss, and the cold, sterile air of the lab spills out. Caleb steps in first, leading you by the hand. He doesn’t hesitate. He’s calm—too calm—but his grip is firm. Steady. Like he’s done this before. Like it’s nothing.  

You don’t want to look. But you do.  

Unicorn is strapped down to the operating table, arms and legs pinned beneath thick metal restraints. Their hair is damp with sweat, sticking to their forehead and cheeks. Thin white hospital clothes hang off their small frame. Wires snake from their collar to the machines humming around them, feeding streams of data into flickering holographic screens.  

They’re shaking.  

Their dark eyes are wide and glassy with tears, locked onto the masked scientist leaning over them. There’s a thin instrument pressed against their chest, just over their heart. A faint blue glow pulses from the tip, growing brighter with every strained breath they take.  

"Again," one of the scientists says.  

“No—!” Unicorn gasps, but the scientist presses the device deeper.  

Their body arches violently beneath the restraints, their back bowing off the table. Their scream splits the room in half.  

Your breath catches painfully in your throat. You try to move—try to step forward—but Caleb’s hand tightens around yours.  

“Don't.”  

Your head snaps toward him. “We can’t just—”  

“We can’t stop it,” he says. His voice is flat. Cold. “It’s a waste of energy.”  

You shake your head, swallowing against the knot in your throat. “But—they’re hurting them—”  

“Yes,” Caleb says. His gaze is fixed on Unicorn, but his expression doesn’t change. “They always do.”  

Unicorn’s breathing stutters. Their chest rises and falls in shallow, broken gasps. Tears slip down their temples, disappearing into their tangled hair.  

"Please," they whisper.  

Your legs move before you can think. You pull away from Caleb’s grip—hard enough to make him stumble—but his hand closes around your arm before you reach the table.  

“Stop.”  

“Ca—Destroyer!”  

“If you interrupt,” he says evenly, “they’ll make it worse.”  

You choke on a breath. “How could it get any worse?”  

He doesn’t answer.  

The scientist adjusts the device. The blue glow pulses brighter. A sharp, electric sound fills the room—high-pitched and unnatural—and Unicorn’s whole body locks up. Their mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Their eyes are wide, pupils blown, their lips trembling.  

“I…” Their head tilts toward you, barely moving beneath the weight of the collar. Their gaze struggles to focus through the haze of tears. “It… it hurts…”  

You feel sick.  

Caleb’s hand slides down to your wrist, thumb pressing lightly against the inside of your palm. His touch is warm. His grip steady.  

They’re strapped down to the table—thin wrists pinned beneath metal restraints, pale skin mottled with bruises. Their dark hair fans out beneath their head, damp with sweat and sticking to their flushed cheeks. Electrodes are attached to their temples, to their chest, to their throat. Their mouth is open, breathless sobs escaping between broken cries.

The scientists are talking. Calmly. Flatly. Adjusting the settings on the machine as if Unicorn’s body isn’t arching in pain beneath their hands.

"Subject 001’s core stability is deteriorating."

"Increase the output by 5%."

"Yes, sir."

Unicorn’s back bows violently. Their mouth stretches wide in a scream you can’t hear through the glass. Their body thrashes against the restraints, limbs jerking uncontrollably. Their eyes are wide, glassy, tears streaking down their cheeks.

Caleb’s hand moves. He presses his palm flat against the glass, his jaw clenching.

"They’re killing them," you whisper.

"Yeah," Caleb says darkly.

Unicorn’s breathing sharpens—short, shallow gasps. Their chest heaves. Blood wells beneath the restraints where the metal cuts into their wrists. Their body convulses violently once—twice—before going still.

The monitor flatlines.

A sharp, continuous beep.

You flinch.

Unicorn’s head falls limply to the side, their dark hair sticking to their damp cheek. Their eyes are half-lidded. Glassy. Empty.

"They…" Your voice catches. "They’re…"

"No." Caleb’s voice is cold. Hollow. His hand slides down the glass. "Just wait."

You’re about to demand what he means when it happens.

The monitor flickers. The long, continuous tone of the flatline cuts off abruptly.

A beat of silence.

Unicorn’s chest rises with a shaky inhale. Their fingers twitch.

The scientists exchange a few brief words. A quick note is entered into a tablet. The restraints are removed.

Unicorn’s eyes flutter open. Slow. Unfocused.

They sit up. Their legs swing over the side of the table, small hands curling loosely over their knees. Their gaze lifts toward the glass. Their dark eyes are clear, calm. Empty.

They smile.

"Good morning!" Unicorn chirps brightly.

Your breath stops.

The bruises on their wrists are already fading. Their cheeks are flushed with new color. They tilt their head, dark hair glinting beneath the overhead lights.

"Where am I?" they ask cheerfully.

The scientists don’t answer. They’ve already turned away, gathering notes and dismantling the machine.

Unicorn slides off the table. Their legs wobble slightly beneath them, but they recover quickly. Their gaze shifts toward the window. Their eyes meet yours.

Their smile brightens.

"Hi!" they wave. "Who are you?"

Your stomach drops.

Caleb steps away from the glass. His hand curls loosely at his side. His expression doesn’t change, but his gaze hardens.

"You see?" His voice is low. Bitter.

You swallow. Your mouth tastes like metal. "How…?"

Caleb’s eyes darken.

"They don’t know," he says. "They just know it works."

You stare at Unicorn.

They’re already being led out of the room by one of the handlers. They glance back over their shoulder, catching your eye through the glass. Their smile never fades.

As if they didn’t just die.

As if none of it happened.

Unicorn raises a hand and waves.

You can’t move.

"Come on," Caleb mutters. "It’s over."

He turns and walks away. His shoulders are tense.

You remain standing at the window, your pulse pounding painfully in your ears.

You’re sitting in the observation room again.

The glass is cold beneath your fingertips, the faint outline of your breath fogging the surface. The room beyond it is too bright, too sterile. The low hum of machines pulses against your skull, steady and sharp.

Inside the room, Caleb is strapped down to the table.

Metal cuffs circle his wrists and ankles. His dark brown hair is damp with sweat, strands clinging to his forehead. His breathing is steady, but his jaw is tight, his knuckles white where his hands curl into fists. Electrodes are attached to his temples and chest, thin wires running from his skin to the machine standing beside him. The screen pulses with bright lines, sharp spikes that match the rapid beat of his heart.

He doesn’t look at you. He’s staring at the ceiling. His eyes are narrowed. Cold. Detached.

"This is test sequence 14," one of the scientists says.

"Begin."

A sharp pulse crackles through the air.

Caleb’s body jerks. His back arches against the restraints, breath hitching sharply between his teeth. His hands curl tighter.

The hum of the machine deepens.

The gravity in the room shifts.

You feel it first in your chest—a heavy pressure sinking into your lungs, squeezing the breath from your throat. The glass vibrates beneath your fingertips. The metal tray beside the table shudders. The lights overhead flicker.

"Containment field holding," a scientist says.

"Increase output."

"No," you whisper.

Caleb’s breath sharpens. His teeth flash in a snarl as his body strains beneath the cuffs. The table creaks beneath him. The glass beneath your hands trembles violently.

"Output increased by 10%."

Caleb’s eyes snap open.

You stumble back a step.

His eyes—normally deep violet—are blazing now, burning bright and unnatural. The air pulses around him, pressing outward. The lights overhead shatter in a burst of sparks. The scientist closest to him staggers back, clutching his chest.

"Containment field destabilizing—!"

"Shut it down—"

A violent pulse tears through the room.

You gasp, hands flying to your ears as the pressure slams against you. The walls groan. The glass splinters beneath your hands. Blood hums beneath your skin, too fast, too loud—

"SHUT IT DOWN!"

The machine powers down with a metallic hiss.

Caleb’s body collapses back against the table. His chest rises and falls sharply. His eyes slide closed, his head tilting to the side. His hands are trembling where they hang limp at his sides.

The scientists are already moving toward him, adjusting the restraints, collecting data.

"Another failure."

"We need to increase the threshold."

"He’s destabilizing too quickly."

You press your hand to your mouth, trying to steady your breathing. Your knees feel weak.

One of the scientists reaches toward Caleb’s arm. His fingers brush Caleb’s wrist—

Caleb’s hand snaps upward. His fingers wrap around the scientist’s throat.

The glass between you cracks.

"Shit, Subject 002—!"

The scientist’s face twists in panic as he claws at Caleb’s hand. Caleb’s eyes slide open. His gaze is dark. Empty.

"Release him!"

The guards rush forward. Caleb’s grip tightens.

And then—

"C...― Destroyer!"

Your voice breaks.

His eyes flick toward you.

For a moment, you see it—recognition flickering beneath the surface. His hand loosens. The scientist falls to the floor, coughing.

The guards seize Caleb’s arms, strapping him back down as he exhales shakily. His gaze slides toward you. His eyes have darkened, the unnatural glow fading back into violet.

"Take him to containment," one of the scientists orders.

Caleb doesn’t resist. He sits up slowly as the guards unlock the restraints and haul him to his feet. His head tilts slightly toward you as they drag him toward the door. His gaze finds yours through the fractured glass.

You can’t breathe.

He doesn’t smile. But his lips move.

I’m fine.

You know it’s a lie.

The door slides shut behind him.

You sink to the floor, your head falling into your hands.

The room feels too empty without him.

Later, you’re back in the hallway. Cold fluorescent lights buzz faintly overhead. You’re waiting outside the medical ward, hands curled over your elbows. You’re still shaking.

The door slides open. Caleb steps out.

He’s still pale. His hair is damp. His uniform jacket is unzipped, the collar hanging loose around his throat. His gaze sharpens when he sees you.

"Hey," he says quietly.

You swallow thickly. "Destroyer—"

Before you can say anything else, his hand lifts.

He presses his palm gently over your eyes.

Your breath catches.

"You don’t have to look," he murmurs. His hand is warm. His fingers brush lightly against your temple. "It’s okay."

"But it’s not okay."

His hand shifts. His thumb brushes your cheek. His gaze softens.

"I don’t want you to see it."

"You…"

He doesn’t let you pull away. His other hand touches your shoulder.

"You’re shaking," he says.

You inhale sharply. "Of course I am! They—they were hurting you, and I couldn’t—"

"I’m used to it."

"That doesn’t make it better!"

His gaze darkens. His hand stays where it is, steady over your eyes.

"You don’t have to watch," he says softly. "Not if you don’t want to."

You press your hand over his. Your heart is still hammering painfully beneath your ribs.

"I do," you whisper.

His breath hitches. His hand slides away from your face, his fingers brushing against your cheek. His violet eyes catch the dim light—soft and sharp all at once.

For a moment, he just looks at you. Then his hand falls to his side.

"Come on," he says. "Let’s go."

His hand lingers briefly against your wrist before he starts walking down the hall.

You follow him.

[defire]

Dragged into an organization for their skills

Content: defiant whumpee, leader whump, beatings, electrocution, manhandling, evil organization

Whumpee is super confident, dresses in like a red blazer with lightning bolts and expects respect. They're a pro. Getting slammed into a table with an arm twisted back behind them triggers anger, not panic.

Sweating from rage as they walk in down a corridor to speak to "whoever's in charge" because "you can't hold me here against my will!"

Pro getting beaten up trying to let a younger, weaker colleague escape

As soon as pro starts yelling, Evil Director gets up and like 10 masked guards step out of the shadows. Pro falters, especially as Director begins to explain how they can get away with this

Pro getting beaten up for refusing to take the "training" required for their "new position"

"You can't strongarm me into this!" "Yes we can. Security? Strongarm him." Security comes in and forces pro to their knees, and director makes them have the rest of the conversation in that position with their shoulders strained harshly forward.

That foot-on-crotch thing, with security holding pro down.

Pro getting tazed every time they talk to the director because they keep trying to rush them.

When they're so isolated and in an unknown place and they curl up in their bed at night into as small a ball as they can get.

Quieter talks when they're so tired and alone and Director is the only person they're allowed to talk to. Getting vulnerable and hating Director for making this happen.

Blackmailing pro by assigning the weakest member of the team to a mission that will get them really badly hurt when they fail

When they finally do what they're being forced to do, they have a set, almost teary expression as they turn their back on their honor code

Leading the team in rebellion against the director

[fun-k-board]

Mortal Kombat 1 Intros with a Spider-Man Reader

Characters included : Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Kitana, Mileena, Sindel, Syzoth / Reptile.

Notes(s) : There are adult ones, which are either romantic/flirty or platonic. Then teen ones, which are just platonic.

MK1 with a Venom Symbiote Reader here!

Johnny Cage

Adult Reader -

Reader : Cage, you can't be serious.

Johnny : Oh, come on, at least imagine kissing while you're invisible, please.

-

Reader : For the last time, I'm too busy fighting crime to be in your movies.

Johnny : Come on, babe, a cinematic universe with Spider-People? It'll be a hit!

-

Johnny : No, wait, just hear me out, Man-Spider, a Spider gets bitten by a radioactive man!

Reader : I don't know why I talk to you...

-

Johnny : You seriously couldn't have chosen a better suit.

Reader : It's not meant to be sexy, but if it can distract you in this fight I'm all for it.

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Wait, you're serious? I can be in one of your movies?!

Johnny : Sure, kid, anything for an adoring fan.

-

Reader : It's... It's such a dream to meet you, you're so awesome in Ninja Mime, I-

Johnny : Let me guess, you want an autograph?

-

Johnny : So, a radioactive Spider is still out there, making more of you?

Reader : I may have accidentally killed it before I knew...

-

Johnny : Hah, I'm a martial arts superstar, some spider-kid isn't getting the best of me.

Reader : I've defeated men twice the size of you!

-

Kung Lao

Adult Reader -

Reader : Yes, webs come out of my wrists, why?

Kung Lao : Do they come out of... Anywhere else?

-

Reader : I do everything I can to protect the people I love.

Kung Lao : Would I happen to be one of them?

-

Kung Lao : You're always missing our dates...

Reader : I'm sorry, but crime is everywhere and I need to stop it.

-

Kung Lao : You're buying me dinner at Madame Bo's for the incident at Johnny's.

Reader : I didn't mean to activate my electricity in the pool!

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Why would I crawl on Madame Bo's ceiling?

Kung Lao : There's webs up there, they fall down on the food sometimes.

-

Reader : I can't take a break, someone could get hurt-

Kung Lao : You're a kid, this isn't your responsibility.

-

Kung Lao : Ah! You can't sneak up on me like that!

Reader : It's not my fault, I didn't realise I was invisible!

-

Kung Lao : Wait a minute, you're part Spider, but afraid of them?

Reader : Don't say it so loud, someone could hear!

-

Kitana

Adult Reader -

Reader : I don't know, can you handle my electricity?

Kitana : Don't underestimate me, Earthrealmer.

-

Reader : Kitana, I don't understand what you mean?

Kitana : I mean, Earthrealmer, I would love to see what those webs of yours can be used for.

-

Kitana : That magic you possess, it's incredible!

Reader : I got bit by a radioactive Spider, it's not magic.

-

Kitana : Stop turning invisible around the palace, it's making Mileena suspicious.

Reader : I can't help it, it happens when I relax!

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Once a great man told me that with great power comes great responsibility

Kitana : He must've meant a lot to you

-

Reader : I'll zap you if you get too close!

Kitana : Ha, are all Earthrealmers so immature?

-

Kitana : I doubt you'll best me in Kombat.

Reader : Just know that you'll never live it down when I do.

-

Kitana : I can't believe my mother thinks so lowly of you, you're only a child.

Reader : You'd be surprised.

-

Mileena

Adult Reader -

Reader : I don't think your sister likes me much...

Mileena : It's because you keep crawling on the ceilings.

-

Reader : I'm sorry for electrocuting you.

Mileena : I was under the effects of my affliction, you were only defending yourself.

-

Mileena : You're awfully close to that Earthrealm girl.

Reader : Gwen's just a friend, Mileena.

-

Mileena : That's a cute trick you have there.

Reader : What about spider webs are cute??

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Can you train me?

Mileena : Only if you teach me your own moves.

-

Reader : I'm more than capable of fighting!

Mileena : I understand the feeling of being underestimated, Earthrealmer.

-

Mileena : Your abilities are useful in Kombat.

Reader : I want to protect anybody who can't match them.

-

Mileena : Never go invisible during an Outworld dinner again.

Reader : I'm sorry, I got nervous!

-

Sindel

Adult Reader -

Reader : I apologise for accidentally using my powers last night...

Sindel : Don't be, dear, it was an interesting experience.

-

Reader : With great power, comes great responsibility.

Sindel : Inspiring words, I trust you to live up to them.

-

Sindel : Your abilities are promising, let's hope you put them to good use.

Reader : I'll do my best, I always try to.

-

Sindel : I never thought I'd feel this way again...

Reader : What? I don't understand, Empress.

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Oh, come on! It's so fun to swing around!

Sindel : It's childish at best, Earthrealmer

-

Reader : You're so level headed...

Sindel : And you're immature.

-

Sindel : Hah! Liu Kang sends a child?

Reader : Will you people stop acting like I'm incompetent?!

-

Sindel : You are a worthy adversary, but far too much of a jester.

Reader : I fight crime flawlessly, I should get to joke once and a while!

-

Syzoth / Reptile

Adult Reader -

Reader : I love you, Syzoth, but I can't stay.

Reptile : I won't fault you for returning to Earthrealm to protect your family.

-

Reader : You want us both to be invisible while we-

Reptile : It was just an idea.

-

Reptile : Our abilities make us challenging adversaries.

Reader : It's only fitting that we come together as one.

-

Reptile : You are always away from me.

Reader : I have responsibilities at home, Syzoth.

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Woah, you can turn invisible? So can I!

Reptile : But are you as stealthy as me?

-

Reader : Look at me! I'm upside down!

Reptile : I can see that, Earthrealmer.

-

Reptile : You need to stay home, even with your abilities, it's far too dangerous here.

Reader : I can handle this place!

-

Reptile : Just because you can electrocute people, doesn't mean you're prepared to fight Shang Tsung.

Reader : I have to at least try.

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny Prompt

Danny Fenton is largely regarded as an ignorant slacker as a result of his schoolwork and study time consistently being interrupted by ghost attacks. Thankfully after Danny is crowned high king of the ghost zone he is able to reign the ghosts in and makes them all swear an oath not to cause trouble, they are still allowed to visit the human world of coarse, some even mask themselves as human and lead ordinary loves even while being dead.

With more time on his hands and little to no ghosts attacks Danny misses the rush he used to get. Then one day a man collapsed in front of him, Danny is able to save the man using CPR and he discovers his new affinity. Medical practice.

Danny goes to college and gets into a hospital as a resident after interning, not long after though the Amity Park hospital closes due to lack of funding and he is forced to find another hospital.

He got a good recommendation from his previous hospital to work at a hospital in Gotham, definitely far from home, but he doesn't let that stop him.

Soon after working there he finds the influx of patients to care for refreshing, he becomes widely known as a genius miracle doctor.

One day he's taking a leisurely walk when he found an injured vigilante, the Red Hood, hes not conscious and therefore unable to give consent for treatment. Danny cares for Red Hoods injuries privately away from a hospital so as to keep the vigilantes identity a secret.

Red Hood is cautious and rude at first, but slowly he learns to open up to the doctor and even get continuously treated by Danny.

Danny is just finishing a shift when he hears about Superman being shot with a kryptonite bullet. Despite using his powers occasionally to treat patients, he's been able to keep his ghost gene a secret.

However that's about to change. He arrives on the seen and pushes his way through the police using a bit of his powers discreetly to get through.

The heroes aren't sure what to do.

"My name's Daniel Fenton, I am an attending physician at Gotham General Hospital, I specialize in supernatural anatomy, Cardiology and Endocrinology"

"All due respect doctor, his skin is impenetrable, you won't be able to operate on him"

Danny kept a cool face.

"That would be true for a normal human, I can't explain right now, every moment we wait is time we could be using to save the patient"

Danny used his ghost powers to see inside Superman body.

Several heroes gasped as they witnessed the doctors eyes turn a glowing green and then his arm became transparent. Danny stick his hand on Superman chest and pulled out the bullet.

As soon as the bullet was out Superman's skin began healing and restoring itself.

Danny let out a breath of relief before letting the superheroes escort him to the hall of justice where they sat with him.

"I would like to begin with we all can't thank you enough Dr" Batman said.

"wow, Mr tall dark and broody is being nice" flash whispered.

"Yes but I'm sure you still have questions for me."

Several heads nodded.

"are you of an alien race?"

Danny chuckled.

"No, nothing like that. My parents were scientists who were obsessed with the study of the paranormal, specifically ghosts. When I was young, around the age of fourteen I would say, my friends convinced me to go inside the newly constructed portal shell that my parents had tested earlier that day."

He paused waiting for them to take in his words before continuing.

"It had failed to operate then so I went in thinking it was safe. I was wrong. My parents had unknowingly instilled the charge to start the portal on the inside of the shell. I didn't know it was even there until I tripped on some tangled exposed wire and my hand pressed it"

"did it hurt?" Flash asked. He got a few dirty looks for that question but Danny just gave him a friendly smile.

"in a word, yes. It was excruciating. I was electrocuted for a half a minute. On top of that I had accidentally started the charge to the portal shell while being inside. This caused an outside substance called ectoplasm to enter my DNA sequence permanently changing it"

"ectoplasm" Batman muttered.

"in simpler terms, I'm half ghost."

"That's not possible! You would have to be half dead to be-" Flashs words were silenced with a swift smack to the back of the head by wonder women.

"Yes, I am technically half dead. I had to battle these ghost entities for a while to make sure they didn't wreck havoc in the small town o grew up in."

"Forgive me, but of that's true why aren't you there now"

Danny chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck a little nervous of their soon to be reactions.

"After I was forced to defeat the current ghost king and put him back onto the sarcophagus of forever sleep, the title became mine. I gained respect and control over the ghosts who were causing trouble amd was able to make them stop"

"Your a king" Batman stated.

"i don't refer to myself as such, on truth many ghosts helped imprison the old king, I received the title on a technicality."

He looked down at his hands.

"after the peace had settled in I had begun to feel as though a part of me was missing so I took up the career I have currently."

He smiled at them sweetly as he explained.

"My battle instincts help me when I'm in a crisis situation with a critical patient. With my powers I can calm them and safely restrain them if need be. As you saw today I can also better treat meta humans and alien races with these abilities as well"

"you went from being a hero to being a doctor, that's commendable"

Danny shook his head.

"Not really. I'm doing a selfless thing for selfish reasons"

The league smiled upon him. From then on he was world renowned for his worldly expertise and protected.

Should I make this into a whole fanfiction or not? Because I want to go into more detail but I want to know what you all think first.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

OH MY GOD imagine platonic yandere adults, find out that the reader is their biological child somehow. Maybe from one of the scientists while doing some test and yans find out they need all of there reactions, especally if Wanda and peitro find out they have another sibling.

Ooooooh, yes! Yeah, that WOULD make things different. Because now the adult/s in question feel more attached (or entitled) to Reader, especially if they were someone who turned out very different from them (as in, saner and maybe a bit nicer)...

If it was Magneto who was Reader's biological parent, surprise, he's now doubling his efforts to free himself, his kids, Charles, and the rest of them out. And those who harmed his kids? They'll be dead when he's done with them. Of course, he is going to try and get closer to Reader, attempt to tell them what he now knows. Hopefully they believe him...

If Charles Xavier is Reader's biological parent, oh, what's this? A few guards mysteriously ended up in a coma? Oh, some head scientist who saw him went insane? That's nothing to worry about, but let's talk, try to calm down, and enjoy a bit of peace, shall we? Yeah, Xavier is ready to keep Reader safe, be it by incapacitating their abusers or simply helping calm his kid down. He wants to badly tell them their relation, but he's aware that it might not be a good time. But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long any of them have...

If Logan is Reader's biological parent, he's scared. He doesn't want them to get hurt, and he doesn't want them to be used as a weapon. He also doesn't want to hurt them. But he also wants to be close to them, wants to protect them. He's worried even more, because they could get hurt just for being related to him. He feels like he can be a bit more feral around them if he's their parent, because it's just as likely they're feral, too, and neither one of them would hurt the other when they're like that, would they? He'll be by their side as long as he can, and he'll try his best to keep them safe. He just hopes Reader survives long enough so they can escape...

If Victor was Reader's biological parent, he's ready to break out even sooner. He has a cub? And they're hurt? And they're sweet? And they're his blood? Ooooooooh, he's going to be goring those lab rats when he's free. He can share his kid with Jimmy, Logan, his runt, but the others? ... He'll think about it. He gets more possessive of them, more protective. If Reader is his by blood, then he feels he should have a say in how they handle them... And he won't hurt them, he'll try not to, but they shouldn't run if he goes to collect them. They don't need to be scared of their papa, right? He's keeping them safe, getting rid of their enemies and freeing their friends and uncle...

If Ororo was Reader's biological parent, she'd be very loving and motherly towards them. She'd happily accept them, and she'd be happy to take care of them. She's sorry they're in this situation, and wishes they could have found this all out some other way, but she hopes that they can move past their trauma and heal together, along with Evan and their friends. She will be electrocuting anyone who lays hands on them, and will be keeping Reader close once they've all escaped. She just has to break the news to them first, that they are related... Hopefully it won't make things worse, finding out about all of this...

Mystique would feel happy about it. One of her kids actually likes her? And this child is friends were her other two children? It's perfect! Perhaps she can finally reconnect with them, the way she's wanted to for a long time. She however hates that they're all stuck in this death trap of a place. She'll get rid of the ones who did this to them, and then they can all go home. She has to do this. If not, she could very well lose them all before they've got the chance to leave. She just hopes she can tell Reader about this newfound information next time she sees them...

Hank would enjoy knowing this, while also being bewildered. He, has a child? Him? When did this happen? And with who? Where? Why? It doesn't matter, he supposes. It just matters that he tells them, eventually. And that they survive, and get out. He knows his team, his family, will accept Reader, they already do, so knowing Reader is his kid will only make him more able to have a claim over them, to truly parent them. He already has ideas, and he's so ready to be done with this awful place. All they have to do is make it awhile longer, and it will only be a bad memory...

(I'd gladly discuss each possible parent option further, but I myself like any of the feral guys as possible parents for Reader. What can I say? They're my comfort characters! But I would find it fun if Reader were someone's hidden kid/clone... What do y'all have in mind over this?)

[varesai]

little boothill drabble since i got too sick to post anything this week and i love this man so much

imagine braiding that mans hair. for being a cyborg, his hair looks real damn soft, and the first time you felt it, you were in shock. how does he manage to keep it that nice for not being able to bathe like a normal person? if you were to throw that man in a wet setting, he'd short-circut and probably electrocute everyone around him (electrical wires..... and water..... not a great pair).

"babe, can i pleaseeeee braid your hair? it'll only be a small part!" you asked once more, hearing him chuckle before pressing a kiss to your temple. once you heard him say yes, you immediately went to work. his hair felt like a cloud, and you wish you could cuddle yourself into it, into him, and sleep the days away. but, thats simply impossible.

you take a little strand on the side of his head and get to work, braiding it slowly and neatly. you tried to do a little french braid, taking peices from the top (in which he teasingly complained that it hurt) working your way to the bottom. you felt his cold metal back lean into your chest, for you were propped up on the headboard of the bed and allowed him to cuddle into you.

once you finished, you tossed it in front of him, and he grabbed it to investigate. he nodded, turning around to face you.

"i like this. maybe you should do it a lil' more often."

[pukefactory]

˚₊⋅─── SHEDDING THE MASK ───⋅ ˚₊

(COMMISSION)

⦮⦯ Summary: Taski Maiden X Reader Where Taski Tries To Take You On A Date But Reveals She May Be Insecure

⦮⦯ Commissioner: @straycolours

⦮⦯ Character(s): Taski Maiden (ENA: Dream BBQ)

⦮⦯ Reader pronouns: Not Specified

⦮⦯ Genre: Short Story, SFW

⦮⦯ Word Count: 1004

⦮⦯ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

⦮⦯ Image Credits: @JoelG

The day starts like any other.

The sky was shaped weird. Too oval. Suspiciously oval. You swear it was square shaped yesterday. You had tried to eat cereal this morning but the spoon folded in on itself like a dying star. A sign. A bad omen. Or just Taski being close by. Both were equally plausible.

“HELLOOOOOO!!!!” she yells from behind a bush before you even reach the front door. “I WAS HERE THE WHOLE TIME!! FOR FIVE HOURS!!!!” A pause. “Or maybe like…ten minutes!! I HAVE NO SENSE OF TIME!!!!!!”

You blink. “Uh—”

“I have plans with you today. Date plans,” she says, and when she says ‘date’ it sounds like she’s threatening the concept of romance itself. “Very serious. Very romantic. Possibly life-altering. Definitely ill-advised.”

Oh.

OH.

Okay, so—yeah. You like her. Like, like-like her. You’ve liked her since she called your boss a pickle and replaced his chair with an active wasp hive. It’s not normal liking, but nothing with Taski ever is. Her laugh comes in violent bursts. Her hugs feel like getting body slammed by a dream. Her idea of flirting includes mailing you a hat full of glitter and ominous sharp teeth.

You wouldn’t want her any other way.

But this is new. This is date stuff. Romance stuff. And she’s—oh no. She’s sweating. She’s—Taski Maiden is nervous. That can’t be good. Taski doesn’t get nervous. She causes it.

“Um,” you say softly. “Do you wanna—sit? I brought snacks.”

“CAN’T!!” she blurts out. “THE SHAMAN TOLD ME I GOTTA MAKE YOU LOVE ME PROPERLY.”

Wait.

What.

“I HAVE ACQUIRED THE LOVE HAT,” Taski declares, pulling out the aforementioned googly-eyed monstrosity and slapping it on her head. “IT SEES EVERYTHING.”

You stare at her.

She stares back.

The hat blinks.

“…Taski,” you murmur, “do you—do you want to do this?”

“I WANNA WIN YOUR HEART!!!” she yells, then clears her throat and tries again, this time in a fake accent: “I am seduuucing you. With very grown-up moves. Watch THIS!!!”

She does a cartwheel into a puddle and screams, “DOES THIS AROUSE YOUR MORTAL DESIRES?!”

“Taski!!” you say, running to help her up. “You’re gonna hurt yourself—”

She shakes off the water like an electrocuted cat and says, “I’m OKAY. Love is supposed to hurt anyway. The Shaman said so. Also he said if I don’t kiss you in under twenty-three minutes I turn into a toad.”

“…Wait, you believe that??”

She hesitates.

“…No,” she says. “Maybe. Don’t kiss me yet just in case.”

The “date” continues in a whirlwind of chaos.

She takes you to the forest (“ROMANCE FOREST!!!” she calls it, but it’s mostly full of screaming raccoons and questionable mushrooms). She tries to hold your hand but keeps missing and grabbing your elbow instead. She attempts to serenade you with a kazoo she found in the trash and ends up summoning a bird with three eyes who pecks her hat to death.

You offer to walk her home after that. She refuses.

“No,” she says seriously. “I HAVE TO GET THIS RIGHT.”

You stop walking.

“…Taski,” you whisper, “you don’t have to try this hard.”

She freezes. Her mouth does that squiggly shape it makes when she’s hiding something (or about to cry). Then she shouts,

“YES I DO!!!!!!!!!”

You flinch.

She doesn’t mean to yell. You know she doesn’t. But something’s cracked in her voice. Something unsure and small and squished down like the last bean in a very angry soup can.

“Everyone thinks I’m dumb,” she mumbles, looking down at her weird googly-eyed hat, now sadly deflated in her hands. “Even ENA calls me unemployed like it’s a disease!!! I don’t have a job. I don’t have a house. I don’t have you yet.”

She kicks a rock. It explodes into dandelion spores. Very inconvenient.

“I thought,” she says, “if I did everything right—if I followed the Shaman’s advice and acted all…like…DATE-Y and normal, you’d fall for me harder. Cuz who wants to be with a dumb gremlin who says ‘poo’ every five seconds and gets banned from libraries for licking the dictionaries!!!”

You walk to her slowly.

You take her hand in yours, gentle and light.

She looks at it like it’s cursed. “Is this—part of the date??? Or is this like—you love me now hand-holding???”

“…I’ve always loved you, Taski,” you whisper.

Her mouth makes a new shape. Something wide. Something soft.

“…Even though I pranked you with uranium?” she says.

You nod. “Even though of that.”

“…Even though I screamed at your boss and got you fired for five minutes?”

You grin. “That was actually pretty funny.”

“…Even though I can’t pronounce the word romancealistic???”

You laugh. “Especially because of that.”

She shudders like you’ve told her the world’s scariest bedtime story.

“…Then I don’t need the Shaman’s stupid advice?” she asks, very small.

You shake your head. “You just need to be Taski.”

She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she throws the hat on the ground, stomps on it, does a little celebratory dance, and screams, “I’M TASKI!!!!”

Birds fly out of the trees.

“AND I LOVE YOU, DUMMY!!!”

Then she kisses you.

It’s a little awkward. She bumps her nose against yours and accidentally steps on your foot. Her hair gets in your eyes. It smells like burnt crayons and mystery fruit juice. It sprawls across your face like an octopus.

It’s perfect. Of course it is.

Later that night, you two lay on the grass and stare at the weird oval sky. The raccoons have gone to bed. The mushrooms are snoring softly.

“I’m gonna be the CEO of love,” Taski declares, arm draped lazily over your chest, snuggling into your side.

“You already are,” you murmur.

She beams with a toothy grin.

“Also,” she adds, “I’m gonna mail the Shaman a dead rat.”

“…Please don’t.”

“Too late!!! I named it Romancealistic Jr.”

You close your eyes.

You love her so much it hurts.

And Taski? She’s just happy to be herself again. Her happy, weird self.

[demonic0angel]

So I had a StephXDanny thought if you could make something out of it that'd be cool

So Phantom is flying around Gotham helping shades with their deaths and pointing the police to crimes when he can when he runs in to Spoiler now he doesn't hate the bats but he doesn't like how they're always trying to capture him for something but he just wants to go home and sleep so he can go on his date with the gorgeous blonde he's had a crush on for weeks

Steph was having a great day she finally got asked out on a date by the cute guy from GU but now she has to try and capture this meta and everything she tries does not work

"Get back here!" Spoiler screamed.

"Hell no! Do you think I'm stupid?!" Phantom responded, dodging a brick. He stared at it incredulously, but continued running as Spoiler chased him.

"To be flying around, doing who knows what in Gotham?! You just might be!" She shouted back at him, throwing an electric net at him. He barely dodged, swooping underneath, but that moment of distraction was all she needed to throw a hidden batarang at him and electrocute him.

Phantom yelped, electric shock running through him before he moved away, shaking off the painful jitters that ran through him.

Spoiler stood across from him, holding a bo staff in one hand and another electric net bomb in the other. They glared at each other before Phantom blasted her with a ghost ray and Spoiler had to jump to the side to avoid it.

The pursuit did not stop and the night continued.

“Ugh! Get back here so I can capture you!” Spoiler said. “I have important things to do, you damn ghost boy!”

“Like what?! I have even more important things to do tomorrow too, y’know?! I don’t have time to be chased by you!” They both ended up in an alley, fighting each other in the narrow space and trying to incapacitate the other.

“You’re telling me?! I have a date tomorrow and I need some sleep, you jerk!” Spoiler screamed, tossing a trash can lid at him like a frisbee. Phantom separated himself into two pieces to dodge as he glared at her.

“You’re not the only one with a date! And I’ve been begging for a chance with this girl for months! Can you lay off?!”

And unexpectedly, Spoiler did. She stopped fighting him and Phantom paused, eying her warily. Spoiler was breathing hard as she stopped in place before she said, “Since I have a date tomorrow, I can’t afford to keep chasing you around like this. I don’t like you, ghost boy, but you probably don’t kill people, so whatever.” Phantom scowled at her, but she continued.

“I’ll let you go this one time so we can both move on. Temporary truce?” Spoiler said.

Phantom eyed her and nodded sharply. “Fine. Truce. See you never, you purple lunatic.”

And with that, he began flying off, although not with Spoiler getting the last word in. “You wish, phantom creep! And keep your nose out of Gotham business!”

————

Danny grinned at Steph, who was similarly beaming at him.

“I had a good time,” she said sweetly. Her hair was up in braids, the sunlight making her look like she had a halo. Their date had gone incredibly well and both were feeling light and fluffy from happiness. Unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end.

Danny flushed. “Me too. Err… do you want to do this again?”

Stephanie nodded. “I’d love to. I’ll message you?”

Danny grinned, feeling his heart flutter as he nodded. “Yes please.”

Steph darted forward for a kiss on the cheek before she moved away, her face turning pink as well. “I have to go back home soon. See you later, you NASA nerd.”

“You wish, waffle lover,” he teased, his smile stretching wide enough to make his face hurt.

Steph turned to leave for real when in unison, they both paused and stiffened, eyes wide. Then Steph turned around, meeting Danny’s own shocked gaze and simultaneously, they both went, “Wait what?”

[mariacallous]

Democrats and liberal pundits are already trying to figure out how the Trump campaign not only bested Kamala Harris in the “Blue Wall” states of the Midwest and the Rust Belt, but gained on her even in areas that should have been safe for a Democrat. Almost everywhere, Donald Trump expanded his coalition, and this time, unlike in 2016, he didn’t have to thread the needle of the Electoral College to win: He can claim the legitimacy of winning the popular vote.

Trump’s opponents are now muttering about the choice of Tim Walz, the influence of the Russians, the role of the right-wing media, and whether President Joe Biden should not have stepped aside in favor of Harris. Even the old saw about “economic anxiety” is making a comeback.

These explanations all have some merit, but mostly, they miss the point. Yes, some voters still stubbornly believe that presidents magically control the price of basic goods. Others have genuine concerns about immigration and gave in to Trump’s booming call of fascism and nativism. And some of them were just never going to vote for a woman, much less a Black woman.

But in the end, a majority of American voters chose Trump because they wanted what he was selling: a nonstop reality show of rage and resentment. Some Democrats, still gripped by the lure of wonkery, continue to scratch their heads over which policy proposals might have unlocked more votes, but that was always a mug’s game. Trump voters never cared about policies, and he rarely gave them any. (Choosing to be eaten by a shark rather than electrocuted might be a personal preference, but it’s not a policy.) His rallies involved long rants about the way he’s been treated, like a giant therapy session or a huge family gathering around a bellowing, impaired grandpa.

Back in 2021, I wrote a book about the rise of “illiberal populism,” the self-destructive tendency in some nations that leads people to participate in democratic institutions such as voting while being hostile to democracy itself, casting ballots primarily to punish other people and to curtail everyone’s rights—even their own. These movements are sometimes led by fantastically wealthy faux populists who hoodwink gullible voters by promising to solve a litany of problems that always seem to involve money, immigrants, and minorities. The appeals from these charlatans resonate most not among the very poor, but among a bored, relatively well-off middle class, usually those who are deeply uncomfortable with racial and demographic changes in their own countries.

And so it came to pass: Last night, a gaggle of millionaires and billionaires grinned and applauded for Trump. They were part of an alliance with the very people another Trump term would hurt—the young, minorities, and working families among them.

Trump, as he has shown repeatedly over the years, couldn’t care less about any of these groups. He ran for office to seize control of the apparatus of government and to evade judicial accountability for his previous actions as president. Once he is safe, he will embark on the other project he seems to truly care about: the destruction of the rule of law and any other impediments to enlarging his power.

Americans who wish to stop Trump in this assault on the American constitutional order, then, should get it out of their heads that this election could have been won if only a better candidate had made a better pitch to a few thousand people in Pennsylvania. Biden, too old and tired to mount a proper campaign, likely would have lost worse than Harris; more to the point, there was nothing even a more invigorated Biden or a less, you know, female alternative could have offered. Racial grievances, dissatisfaction with life’s travails (including substance addiction and lack of education), and resentment toward the villainous elites in faraway cities cannot be placated by housing policy or interest-rate cuts.

No candidate can reason about facts and policies with voters who have no real interest in such things. They like the promises of social revenge that flow from Trump, the tough-guy rhetoric, the simplistic “I will fix it” solutions. And he’s interesting to them, because he supports and encourages their conspiracist beliefs. (I knew Harris was in trouble when I was in Pennsylvania last week for an event and a fairly well-off business owner, who was an ardent Trump supporter, told me that Michelle Obama had conspired with the Canadians to change the state’s vote tally in 2020. And that wasn’t even the weirdest part of the conversation.)

As Jonathan Last, editor of The Bulwark, put it in a social-media post last night: The election went the way it did “because America wanted Trump. That’s it. People reaching to construct [policy] alibis for the public because they don’t want to grapple with this are whistling past the graveyard.” Last worries that we might now be in a transition to authoritarianism of the kind Russia went through in the 1990s, but I visited Russia often in those days, and much of the Russian democratic implosion was driven by genuinely brutal economic conditions and the rapid collapse of basic public services. Americans have done this to themselves during a time of peace, prosperity, and astonishingly high living standards. An affluent society that thinks it is living in a hellscape is ripe for gulling by dictators who are willing to play along with such delusions.

The bright spot in all this is that Trump and his coterie must now govern. The last time around, Trump was surrounded by a small group of moderately competent people, and these adults basically put baby bumpers and pool noodles on all the sharp edges of government. This time, Trump will rule with greater power but fewer excuses, and he—and his voters—will have to own the messes and outrages he is already planning to create.

Those voters expect that Trump will hurt others and not them. They will likely be unpleasantly surprised, much as they were in Trump’s first term. (He was, after all, voted out of office for a reason.) For the moment, some number of them have memory-holed that experience and are pretending that his vicious attacks on other Americans are just so much hot air.

Trump, unfortunately, means most of what he says. In this election, he has triggered the unfocused ire and unfounded grievances of millions of voters. Soon we will learn whether he can still trigger their decency—if there is any to be found.

[micky-44-blog]

Rosie Reacts to Alastor’s Story

Someone flirts with alastor Part 4

________________________________________

Alastor sat comfortably in Rosie’s tea shop, lazily stirring his cup as he recounted the entire ordeal with a wide, amused grin.

“…And then, my dear, delightful little firecracker of a partner marched up, all righteous fury and hellfire, and practically chased the poor girl off! Oh-ho~! It was quite the show~!”

Rosie, who had been listening intently, took a slow sip of her tea. Then, she set the cup down deliberately and folded her hands on the table.

“…So let me get this straight,” she said, voice calm. “Some random hussy had the gall to flirt with you, right in front of your beloved, and you just stood there and let it happen?”

Alastor’s grin widened. “Oh-ho~! But of course! It was hilarious!”

Rosie’s eye twitched.

“Alastor,” she said sweetly, “are you stupid?”

Alastor blinked. “Oh-ho~! Now, now, Rosie, that’s no way to speak to a dear friend~!”

Rosie exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Darling, you are lucky your little sweetheart didn’t electrocute you on the spot.”

Alastor chuckled. “Oh, they did plenty of yelling! It was so entertaining!”

Rosie gave him a deadpan look. “And do you know why they were so angry?”

Alastor tilted his head. “Oh-ho~! Because they’re adorably possessive?”

Rosie sighed. “Because, you absolute buffoon, they were probably hurt that you didn’t shut it down.”

Alastor paused, his smile faltering just a fraction.

“…Hurt?”

Rosie rolled her eyes. “Yes, hurt! It’s one thing to be flirted with—it’s another thing to let it happen while your partner watches! It makes them feel unimportant!”

Alastor’s static flickered briefly.

“…Oh.”

Rosie smirked, seeing the realization dawn on him. “Oh-ho~! Indeed!”

Alastor huffed, crossing his arms. “Well, I did make it up to them, you know! A very passionate display of affection, right in front of everyone!”

Rosie raised a brow. “Mmmhmm. And did they forgive you?”

Alastor hesitated. “…Mostly?”

Rosie shook her head. “You absolute menace.”

Alastor chuckled, resting his chin on his hand. “Oh-ho~! But my dear Rosie, isn’t it delightful when they get all worked up? They’re simply too cute when they’re furious!”

Rosie gave him a knowing smirk. “Mmhmm. And I bet you’ll think they’re even cuter when they make you suffer for it.”

Alastor’s grin flickered for just a moment.

“…I do enjoy a challenge.”

Rosie laughed. “Oh, you’re getting one.”

[a-leg-without-fear]

Flooded Red (pt.2) 🩸🌧️

get ready for some ANGST babes

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: torture, experimentation, gore, violence, cursing, electrocuting, drugging, mind control, medical equipment, implied child endangerment, ANGST

Series: Flooded Red

Groggy. You felt groggy. Tendrils of fog clouded around the edges of your mind. Swirling amongst the slow thoughts that had gathered, blurring words and images. Flashes of red, hot blood and bright lights shot through your dazed mind. A dull ache gathered at the base of your skull.

The next thing that registered was the biting cold of the metal table beneath you. Chills shook along your sore spine. You tried to adjust your cramped muscles, tried to stretch out your stiff joints.

But you couldn’t.

Your hands were fully encompassed in metal spheres. Thick iron wrapped around your wrists and encasing your fingers. You pulled at the restraints, desperation leaking into your veins. Rough metal chafed along the skin at your wrists. Rubbing and scratching and leaving the flesh raw.

Panic gripped at your racing heart. Your eyes flew open to gauge your situation. All you could see was black. Like someone had left the lights off in the middle of the night. Your gaze darted around in the darkness. Searching for something, anything. 

You couldn’t breathe. Terror spilled into the edges of your mind like ink in water. Sharp talons raked through any coherent thoughts still bouncing around in your head. Primal fear choked you. You pulled and squirmed, a wild animal struggling to be free.

Latex gloves smoothed down your bare arm. The powdered rubber pulled at your skin as thin fingers prodded at the inside of your elbow. Like five daggers stabbing into you and spurring on the feral beast clawing at your throat.

Your consciousness slipped beneath the appalling gloves, mind tracing along the miniscule veins running under twitching skin. You followed the veins through this attacker’s arm. The pointed taste of norepinephrine and acetylcholine coated your tongue. This person was focused, relaxed.

You zeroed-in on the flow of acetylcholine through this person’s veins. Tracing the chemical back to its source. The hypothalamus. That small, ever important part in the center of one’s brain. The main coordinator of the nervous system and bodily cravings.

Like squishing a grape between your fingers, you crushed this person’s hypothalamus with a single thought. You could taste fresh blood leaking into the air, the coppery scent filling your sinuses and satiating the gnawing dread in your gut. The gloves running along your skin disappeared.

Pride licked up your throat, satisfaction seeping into your pores at the absence of latex on your skin.

Torturous electric pulses zipped along your skin. Shocks emanating from the metal table below you and the iron clasped on your hands. Excruciating lightning coursed through your body and made your back arch. Your arms tugged at their restraints, legs scrambling for leverage, head shaking back and forth.

As instantaneous as the shocks had started, the pain ceased. Gulping breaths filled your strained lungs. Sparks of the remaining electricity under your skin made you wince.

“Let’s not kill the techs, shall we? Each corpse garners a mountain of paperwork and a devastated family.”

Your unseeing eyes searched in the void for the source of the voice. It sounded familiar, masculine. A slight southern drawl laced in each word.

“There we are. Calmed down?” 

Recognition hit you in the chest like a freight train. Your lips curled, a feral snarl seeping through your bared teeth.

“You,” you growled, malice and pure hatred filled your mind like sand in an hourglass. This man attacked your home. Hurt your kids. Threatened your Logan. Anger like you had never known washed over you like a raging inferno.

“Yes, me. Now that we are familiar, are we in agreement?” he asked. His voice was loud, projected, crackling. Like it came from a large speaker somewhere to your right. 

“Fuck you,” you hissed. You tugged furiously at your restraints. Bestial rage burned away at all cognition. Flames scorched your mind and sent you into a fucking frenzy. Your teeth gnashed, chest heaved, muscles tightened.

“And here I was, thinking you’d be more cordial than the Wolverine. No matter. Nothing a little behavioral management won’t solve.”

Your body jolted as electricity streaked through your bones. You cried out, jaw clenching and fists tightening in their iron coffins.

This round of electrocution was blessedly short. You heaved, stomach lurching and heart thumping rapidly behind your ribcage, when the shocks had stopped.

“Are. We. In. Agreement?” the man asked again, annunciating every word. You panted, skin glistening in sweat, throat constricting and nearly choking you. The man sighed, “Bleeder, I’ll need an answer. Will you kill any more of my employees?”

You snarled at your old moniker, then thunked your head down on the table in defeat, “No.”

“Good. Now, since that’s settled, I’m going to have Maria draw your blood. Do your best to refrain from killing her. She has two sons at home.”

Powdered latex rubbed at your elbow again. You gritted your teeth, molars grinding against one another, as you tried to restrain the whirling rage inside you. Shaking fingers felt along your skin. Pressing deep into the flesh now and then, looking for that prominent vein that ran through the crook of your arm.

Cool liquid brushed across your skin. A smooth cloth doused in alcohol rubbing and sanitizing your arm. The acrid scent filled your sinuses, making you flinch. Every nerve ending in your body was ringing alarms. Constant fear flooded your mind as the seconds ticked by.

A tight pinch pierced your skin and you nearly went back on your word. Almost lashing out like a cornered, rabid animal. The needle pushed under your skin and settled in your vein. Foreign, metal, cold, bad. It shouldn’t be in your arm. You should remove it, kill whoever stuck it in you.

No. This wasn’t you. You didn’t mindlessly kill people. No matter how angry you were, you would always try to find a solution. Pushing down your own feelings for the sake of peace. The fiery hatred burning inside was a feeling you often tried to ignore, tried to suppress, if not for you then for those you cared about.

Memories floated through your mind like leaves on the surface of a pond. Logan laughing at something stupid you said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Charles giving you a scathing review of a book he’d recently read. Jean and Scott cuddled together, tucked away behind a corner in the foyer.

Your friends. Your colleagues. Your family.

A trembling breath passed between your lips. The feral rage churning inside you had simmered down to a low heat. Just barely warming the edges of your mind in anger. You swallowed a grief-covered lump that had gathered in your throat.

~~~~

Colonel William Stryker watched your blood being drawn with mild curiosity. Like watching an animal in a vet’s office have their blood work done. You were restrained, arms bound and eyes covered, with a terrified Maria standing over you. Her trembling hands clutched at your arm as the red liquid flowed through the rubber tube.

A thick pane of glass separated William from you. Elevated by at least a story, Stryker stood in the observation deck. He adjusted how his dark jacket fell across his midriff. Bright lights hanging from the ceiling reflected white circles on his glasses. 

The control panel sitting before him glowed and quietly hummed. Switches connected to the electric interface of your restraints. Red button to shock you, blue button to sedate you, green button to release you. Ingenious design, if you asked him.

Sharp heels clicked on the concrete floor next to him. Yuriko, black suited and hair slicked back, moved to stand next to William. Her hands were clutched behind her back, chrome nails just barely shimmering in the light. Silver eyes looked between William and your writhing body below.

“Is Xavier ready?” he asked, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Yuriko, ever the silent one, gave him a quick nod. William took one last glance down at you, a spot of pity bubbling in his stomach, then turned away from the glass.

Soldiers with varying degrees of combat armor and armaments lined the halls of the dam. Each giving William a polite nod as the colonel breezed past. Stryker barely acknowledged the formal greetings, periphery only just catching glimpses of their faces. They were unimportant.

A hiss sprouted from the metal door as it slid open. Chrome, unpolished, with a clouded window near the top. He grimaced in disgust. Everything in this accursed dam was filthy. Not a place for a man of his repute to continue his work, and certainly not structurally sound enough to house the several mutants he now possessed.

The room he stepped into was much like every other room in the Alkali Lake Dam. Concrete entombing him on all sides, bright lights hanging from the ceiling, spots of equipment and machinery placed near the doors for easy access.

Green light glowed from sconces set low on the curved walls. Wires and tools suspended from the ceiling hung in alcoves like swinging corpses. A steel table and chair sat in front of one of those alcoves. Stryker moved to the table, double checking his pen was still in his breast pocket, then turned to face the current object of his desire.

Charles Francis Xavier. In all of his bald, old, crippled glory. His posh blue suit and silk gold tie reflected the white spotlight directed at him. A chrome device sat on the mutant’s wrinkled brow. Steel, magnetization, and electricity working together to cage his mind inside that thick skull of his.

Stryker chuckled under his breath at the sight. The great Professor X. All powerful telepath who could control the entire world with a single thought. Reduced to a hunched man in a wheelchair.

Xavier stirred, head beginning to raise from its lowered position. Stryker kept an air of indifference on his face while clutching at the pen in his jacket. When the mutant’s eyes met the colonel’s, William threw the professor a proud smile. Understanding passed through Xavier’s perplexed expression.

“William…”

“Please, Xavier, don’t get up,” Stryker said, cutting the mutant off. A chuckle threatened to leave his chest at his own quip.

Quiet whirring surrounded Xavier as the man folded in on himself. Eyes squeezing shut, shoulders twitching. 

“I call it the neural inhibitor,” William explained. He watched the mutant struggle under the steel cap, then continued while tapping his forehead, “It keeps you out of here.”

The whirring stopped as Xavier’s eyes opened. Beady blues took in the space around the cripple. Wrists bound in leather straps, suit roughed up at the edges, Stryker and Yuriko standing before him.

“What have you done with Scott?” Xavier asked, voice thin and edged in pain.

“Don’t worry. I’m just giving him a little re-education. Him and that little pet project of yours,” Stryker replied. Xavier tensed in the seat of his wheelchair.

“You don’t mean-”

“Why yes, I do. The little weapon of mass destruction y’all have taken to calling ‘Vampire,’” William said with undeniable confidence. He leaned back on the concrete wall next to him as he said, “Of course, we both know she’ll never truly leave behind her old name. What was it?”

“William-”

“No, that’s not it. ‘Bleeder.’ Yeah, that’s the one,” Stryker mused. Xavier’s jaw clenched, withered hands curling into fists. The mutant eyed the colonel with sparking anger burning in his blue eyes.

“She hasn’t used that calling card in quite some time,” Xavier said slowly, voice coming out measured and restrained. Stryker huffed an incredulous laugh.

“Just because the lion is trapped in a zoo doesn’t change its nature. Savagery can’t be swayed by giving the lion a cushy home and ample playmates. Sooner or later, professor, she will snap again. And from the way she mosied up to me in that mansion of yours, I’d say she’s one breath away from tearing the whole country to pieces.”

~~~~

Logan silently followed the group of teenagers in front of him up the driveway. Early morning sun rippled through the trees and onto Bobby’s family home. Gentle breezes made the grass sway, the sounds of cars starting down the road echoed across damp asphalt, freshly-mowed grass a few doors down floated through the air.

His mind was a fucking hurricane. Spinning and twisting and raging to where it was hard to tell which way was up. Glimpses of the events from the night before rolled through his head like peals of thunder.

You were gone. You were right fucking in front of him, scared eyes meeting his, and then you were gone. Obscured by the frosted blue ice Bobby had conjured. Logan had pounded on that ice until his hands bled, desperate to reach you, desperate to see your eyes again, desperate to get you away from that man.

Stryker.

Wrath boiled in his chest when the name crossed his mind. Logan had no memory to connect to the name, no instance of ill-intent, nothing that would link this deep-seated hatred.

Well, other than the fact that the guy had raided the fucking mansion and took you from Logan. Severed from his life like a missing limb.

He barely registered the climb up the front porch steps. Nor the conversation passing between Rogue, John, and Bobby. Logan’s mind swirled with the agony of losing you, the confusion surrounding this whole scenario, the unbridled fury licking at that primal part of his mind.

His hand subconsciously slipped the front door shut behind his group. White-suburban walls and decorations hit Logan’s downturned vision like he’d wandered into a Target. He brushed away his racing thoughts to verify that the door was locked.

Logan would get you back. He’d stop Stryker, free the kidnapped mutants, and get you back. Even if he had to climb fucking Mount Everest. He wouldn’t rest until you were safe, held against his chest and tucked under the covers in your bed.

thoughts? comments? concerns? theories? let me know!!!

leg's taglist: @hazydespair @spideybv28 @fantasticalartist @autisticnutcase @captainwans @ayamenimthiriel @tsukiko26 @up-l4te-4t-n1ght

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[psychemochanight]

Do you have any Dick HCs that you don't think you'd include in canon but would like in AUs?

I don't know how long ago you sent this, but I'm just checking my ask box, sorry-

And yes, I have several, but one of my favorites is Dick having a minimal Talon part in him.

Like, not enough to be actually significant, but it's there, you know?

He can heal a little faster, very little, but suppose a fracture that should take exactly 3 months to heal, heals a week sooner, or something like that. Idk.

And may the electricity help speed up the healing process a little.

He is more resistant to electricity than the average person, for example, he can tolerate electrocuting himself with his escrima sticks... That still hurts a lot, but he doesn't lose consciousness, and it helps him heal faster... Although it's a last resort process, not only because of the pain, but because even if he doesn't faint, he gets dizzy, which is not a very good thing in a fight, of course.

Maybe he's a little stronger than average, but nothing that makes him superhuman, any person can reach his level of strength, it just takes him a little less time to reach that point.

Things like that-

[sillyzel]

✨The Amazing Digital Circus Hunters AU

The players in the circus are playing Caine’s game, “HUNTINGG” or maybe, uh, they’re like bounty hunters with powers..

Each player has unique abilities and can be used when they’re “hunting” for stuff in Caine’s game! Just-, Just that, simply.

(More under the cut)

Each of the players have unique abilities. Or, yeah, weapons. They use the weapons to help hunt stuff, of course. OR to KILL stuff. Players are kill-able but will respawn. Cuz, why not? If you’re an NPC, maybe you might just, die, yeah, die.

What are they hunting for?? Duh, it’s like, for ranks or smth. Higher u rank, more powerful u become, but when u get killed by anyone, well u gotta start over again. Who knows what u can achieve if u keep that first place…

OK!1!1!1 MORE ABOUT THE PLAEYRSZSZ

Pomni - Police… with a sword.

Pomni is… yeah, that. Why? Bubble just thinks it’s cool. Yeah, she does have a gun too. Pomni’s sword can get longer and shorter, but it is limited. Sword can electrocute some bozos, but needs charging after 5 uses of electro-power thing blah blah. Gun? Normal police gun.

Ragatha - Bare hand fighter, most of the time.

She is, a bare hand fighter. KICK AND PUNCH, yeahhhhh, but uses the spear sometimes. She keeps about 3 spears in her back. Rather than using the pointy part, She usually uses the wooden part more. Pointy stuff has poison. It stings and it hurts making the area that got cut/stabbed with that feel numb. Possible cramps, ig…

Gangle - Chainy chainy stuff with a slim cutter on it’s end.

Gangle’s… weapon, can cut OFF your limbs… BUT that’s rare! Only if she did it right. Usually only cuts deep… nvm, it depends if she is using it the riiiight way! The chain can go longer, with limit, of course! Making the chain go shorter takes more time.

Zooble - FIRE STAFF MUAHAHAHHA 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Zooble. I can say Zooble is like, an alchemist? Only if it’s fire-related. Basically, ya know, Staff with fire magic. BUTTT staff might lost its control sometimes. Zooble can use the staff, whenever. There’s always a “water-looking” bottle attached to the stuff. That thing is minimizing the chances of the staff to lose control. Also minimizes the fire a bit. Zooble can take it off, for about 20 minutes while using it. More than that, it burns the whole tent.

Jax - PEW PEW guns

Some sick guns. Yeaaahhh let’s goooo!1!1! 2 small guns and 1 big gun. 3 in total. The two smaller guns work differently. One works very fast and shoots 3 bullets at one click. One just shoots one per click, doesn’t deal much damage, but will make the enemy feel not-so-good and pass out, sometimes. Big gun? Fast, big bullet. Uses are limited. Only 3 times a day.

Kinger - DARK MAGIC GUY?!?!?

Exorcist? Dark magic? Whatever. Magic book. Yeah, he uses magic book to make and control magic. Just like Zooble, Kinger’s weapon can lose control too. Rarely. Magic book has no limits. The magic just- won’t work well if it’s closed. Quite hard to keep it open, y know.

BONUS - Links Abt this thing yes.

I have a feeling it’s not gonna be so “noticed” by other people, but I enjoyed making it while boredom.