#at least nowadays they are often only abandoned

[irat-that-s-me]

what prev stated!

truly suprised about the numbers in the poll!

at this point I've read fanfiction for over...20 years.

I KNOW the heartache of losing beloved fanfictions.

I started saving fanfictions out of ff.net when I had to do it chapter by chapter, OF COURSE I am going to download every fanfiction I like when ao3 makes it so damn easy

Sometimes the Archive goes down for maintenance (or other reasons). Sometimes you're somewhere without wifi.

[stsgluver]

NOTHING NEW – gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo coming home at 1:43am (nothing new)

wc. 1.5k

tags. fluff <3333, not proofread bc i’m lazy

“baby? hey, i’m home.” there’s a light brush against your nose as gojo gently knocks his against yours, his voice coaxing you out of your sleep. instinctively, your hands reach out to him and he responds by taking both your wrists in his hands to press light kisses to the palm of your hands. butterflies flutter inside of you from the sheer delicateness that your boyfriend handles you with; the same hands capable of unimaginable destruction cradling you like you’re the most fragile ornament. you almost fall back to sleep from the feather-like touches.

gojo had been sent away on a mission, as he so often is, but for once it was fairly local to your apartment so you’d told him you’d stay up for him (even though he insisted he would rather you slept). however, it seemed that as the number of curses increased and their torment escalated, you were seeing gojo less and less and you missed him. he was the love of your life after all, he was meant to be the centre of your universe, not just another planet orbiting your story.

even for just an additional five minutes of his time, you would always wait for him.

so, even though the clock read 01:43am and you want nothing more than to curl up further into the plush sofa, you force yourself to open your eyes. gojo is inches away from your face, blindfold and uniform still on, but you can still feel his gaze on you. it’s full of love and adoration and appreciation. he’s so used to people leaving him and yet here you are on a night when he knows you’ve got work in the morning.

his lips are quirked up as he takes in your pile of blankets and uneaten snacks you had kitted yourself out with in your (unsuccessful) plan to stay awake by watching movies (you think you made it through at least one but you can’t be entirely sure). 

“hi,” you whisper quietly, shifting your hands from his loose hold to cup his face. despite the fact he’s on the floor on his knees in front of you and you’re now sat upright on the sofa, he still towers above you, and you have to crane your neck up to be able to see all of his face. his pale skin is smooth under your touch and so so cold and you could only imagine the abandoned school or hospital he’d been sent to, shattered windows and a crumbling infrastructure.

“the bed’s more comfy, y’know,” gojo flashes you one of his usual carefree grins. his movements are slower than usual as he brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face and you know he’s just as tired as you are. you don’t voice your concerns – he’d dismiss them anyways (“i’m the strongest” and all that) – but your thumb gently brushes back and forth as your eyes scan every inch of skin visible to you in the dim light, searching for any scratches or wounds. there never is any.

you shake your head with a quiet hum, “not without you.” there’s a falter in his smile and you know that if you could see his eyes right now, you’d see the softness and vulnerability – a side of himself he’ll only ever be with you. there’d be guilt too – guilt that he’s not there enough and that you’re living half the life that you should be.

“i’m here now,” he sighs quietly and presses one single peck to your forehead. the two of you hold still for a moment, noses brushing against one anothers and breaths intermixing as you just bask in the other’s presence. despite the sweat and grime ruining his clothes, gojo still smells of your favourite cologne and sweets. it’s familiar and smells more like home than the apartment ever could when he’s not there.

it’s peaceful, something he rarely gets to experience nowadays. his joints ache from their constant use and lack of sleep so kneeling before you isn’t ideally what he should be doing, but it’s what he needs if it means to be this close to you.

you lift your head up slightly, just enough to be able to brush your lips against his. it only takes a second before he’s kissing you back more firmly, the barely-there-touches not enough. the kiss is slow and sweet and filled with unspoken affirmations of love.

he only pulls away to breathe and god you wish you could see those blue eyes right now. maybe they’d be staring at your lips, or your own eyes or maybe they’d be closed as he indulged himself in the sparks that your kisses left behind.

pressing one more kiss to his lips, nose, then cheek, you nod your head to the hallway, “can we get ready for bed?”

gojo’s blindfold shifts as he furrows his brows. “you can go to bed, i’ll join you in a minute baby.” his large hand pats down your hair, frizzy from sleeping on the sofa’s cushions. “you’re half asleep,” he adds with a slight tease as your head instinctively drops into his touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“if you think i’m leaving you for a second, you’re an idiot gojo satoru,” you blindly swat at his chest in response of such an outrageous offer. how dare he think the two of you can exist in the same apartment and not be less than a feet away from each other? 

gojo chuckles under his breath and took your wrist into his hand, holding it over his heart. “i love you.”

your eyes open and you can’t stop yourself from grinning – like the man before you isn’t your boyfriend of years, like you’re both teenagers again confessing for the first time, “i love you more, toru.” if it were any other night he’d fake offence, starting up a playful argument in which he would emphasise that that was in fact a lie. you’d never be able to comprehend how much he truly loves you. but this isn’t any other night; this is tonight and after three nights without, he thinks he’ll give you this one. 

the first thing you do once you’re both in the bathroom is lift off his blindfold, dropping it into the laundry basket next to the sink. you left the main bathroom light on so you are having to rely on the light from the hallway and the moon that spills in through the window.

gojo winces slightly still at the use of his eyes with no barrier between him and the world. you press what you hope is a comforting kiss to his jawline as you silently continue with your own routine – removing any remnants of make up and plaiting your hair. 

this is usually how it goes: the two of you simple co-existing as gojo finally lets his guard down, his body finally realising the overuse and lack of energy it had been running on. then, once you’ve pat your damp face down with a towel, you help gojo with his minimal skincare routine.

“satoru,” you say once you’ve almost finished rubbing the moisturiser into his porcelain skin.

“yes, gorgeous?” he hums quietly, the ghost of a smile on his face as he looks down at you. 

“i love you.”

he’s giddy when he kisses you again, dipping down so you don’t have to try and reach his height. the kiss only lasts several seconds but it didn’t need to last any longer for you not to feel all the emotions behind it; the ‘i’m sorry i’m not here enough’s; the don’t give up on me’s; the ‘please always be here when i come home’s.  

“never stop.” it’s not a demand from the world’s strongest sorcerer, it’s a plea from your tired and lonely boyfriend. 

several minutes later and the two of you are curled up in your sheets together. your legs are hooked together as you face each other. initially, you had tried telling him quietly about your day, something to take his mind off of whatever horrors he had experienced whilst away, but your quiet voiced melted into whispers, and your whispers into light snores as you slipped easily into an unconscious state.

“night my love,” gojo ghosts his hand over your cheek and body as his eyes take mental screenshots of every inch of you. he wouldn’t sleep tonight. tonight is all about ensuring that you are okay. he’d never openly admit to the overwhelming fear he experiences every time he leaves you alone – you, gojo satoru’s (the strongest sorcerer alive) girlfriend. he is untouchable, however you are everything but.

so tonight he’d stay awake, to hold you and to whisper sweet nothings as you shift in your sleep unbeknownst because, for as long as he is there, you are safe.

a/n. honestly not my fav bit of writing I've ever done but I found it in my drafts and I did like SOME bits so here you go. next thing I post will either be the next part of snapshot or take me back to before :)

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Reminiscene

Hello everyone :3

You all know what time it is!! I think... It is time for another Dream drabble :3 @spotaus I know how much you like having dream be put through the ringer :33

First drabble Prev drabble Next drabble

Not much to say this time. You guys ready?

*-------------------------*

All things considered? Dream had been doing okay lately.

The worst part was that he wasn't sure if he felt good or bad about it.

At least Core didn't call him every 5 minutes anymore. Seems like the outcode child finally accepted that Dream had changed. That Dream had moved on.

Hah.

If only they knew how little he had actually moved on.

Dream stands in the greyed out forest. Waiting and listening. Not even a slight breeze. No sound.

A dead AU.

He used to blame Nightmare for that, for killing their AU.

Nowadays?

Dream figures it was just the end of their AU.

Dream leans against a tree and sighs. He tries to reach out but no sounds.

On his solo trips and, as Blue liked to call them, self discovery trips. Dream had learned he could speak to trees. Though maybe calling it speaking was a bit generous.

The trees didn't use words. Just sounds and whistles and whispers that could almost have been words. Dream had still been able to understand however. He just had to listen.

Seems like that was a theme for him. He just had to listen to be able to understand.

Even so, he takes a deep breath and leaves the forest and walks towards a familiar hill.

He kept returning here. Dream wants to say he doesn't know why and that it is just his home calling back for him.

He knows the truth.

He stops by the old cut down stump and focusses on the two familiar graves.

Seems like he hadn't been the only one visiting. There are once again fresh flowers. All beautifull yellows and orange coloured this time.

Dream smiles as he sits by the graves and gently touches the flowers. Part of his soul grieves at the two graves, once of which is meant for him. But another part of his soul sings in joy.

Because there is only one monster who could have made these graves and left these flowers.

Dream chuckles as he glances at the stump "Nighty came by... didn't he?"

No answer of course. Nim has died a long time ago. Even so Dream leans back against the stump as he keeps looking at the graves, most of his focus is on his own.

Dream keeps staring at the graves as he speaks "I know you won't answer me... with you being gone.. But... I want to at least think you are listening to me. Just this once."

Nim never listened to him. Neither to Nighty. They just had to listen to her.

Look at where that lead them.

Dream watches over the grey fields and the village in the distance. "Had you already decided near the start? Which one of us you would love and which one you wouldn't?"

No answer but Dream didn't mind. He watches the village in the distance. He can't help but wonder how often Nightmare would have had to do this alone. Keep watch alone.

"Or was it an in the moment decision? Had there been a moment were you held both of us and loved us both? Or had you decided the moment Nightmare formed that you would hate him?"

How often Dream would rush off, ignoring the quiet pleas to stay wiht Nightmare.

"I think you decided from the start. Why else would you give him the name you did? Say the only thing that matters about him is how he was different from me."

Would he have seen those angry people coming? With weapons? Had Nightmare been afraid? Wondering where Dream had been? Why Dream hadn't stopped them?

"It has to be the reason. Why else would you tell me to make friends with the villagers and help them? While telling Nightmare to stay put and send them away? You must have known. Known that by making me help them and by making Nightmare deny them that they would grow angry with him."

How often had Nightmare believed Dream had abandoned him? Only for him to end up mortally injured?

"You don't deserve the grave he made." Not that Dream thinks he truly deserves one himself. Even if he returns each time to see if new flowers are left for him.

Dream once again wonders if he should leave a message for the next time Nighty visits... Just something that he wishes to talk.

But then that ever present fear returns. What if it meant Nightmare wouldn't visit this place anymore instead of answering? What if he decided it was better to completely cut their past lose from him instead?

Dream hugs his legs as he tries to remember how colourful everything had been. How beautiful it had been.

But... Dream now realises that it had just been a prison of responsibility... For both him and his brother.

A golden cage... but still a cage.

Drema snorts as he nudges Nim's grave "Yet here you are! immortalised by a grave your son made you! You know. That same son you aparently never liekd or wanted? That son made you a grave and keeps said grave clean and brings you flowers. I bet you wouldn't even be thankful for it."

Dream knocks the stump with his fist "After all! How often did you tell me that I should focus on myself? How i should focus on making the villagers like me? How i shouldn't bother to wait for Nighty to return from the river?" Nim had been trying to seperate them from the start. A dream had never realised.

Dream sighs as he hugs his legs "We were children. Little babybones and you gave us adult responsibilities...." They should have just ran. the two of them should have just disappeared into the forest.

Nighty had asked him a few times if they couldn't just leave together.

Dream should have realised something was seriously wrong. Nighty had been the one who took their jobs so seriously.

But... Dream had just said he didn't want to leave his friends in the village behind.

"I wish i could turn back time... get a redo... I would stay by Nightmare's side. I would convince him that the job you gave us wasn't our job."

Dream wonders why Nightmare had been so set on doing their job so well... Dream has ideas but none of them are happy reasons.

"What... waht did you tell him? That made him desperate to do this job well?" Which lies had Nim told Nightmare in Dream's absence...?

Dream hugs his legs "Why did you never bother to tell me?" Dream grows angry as he huffs "Why did you never bother to tell me the same? Or tell me when Nighty was near? Or tell nighty when I was near? What was it you were trying so hard to protect?!"

A memory. from so long long ago. It had been raining and Nightmare hadn't been around. Ligthning had been flashing and Dream had been so afraid. His mother had help him within her branches. protected him. reassured him he would be safe. told him...

told him that Dream just had to protect himself. protect the hope he represented...

Dream laughs as he kicks the grave of his mother. glaring at it angerly "Was it worth it?! Was it worth killing one of your sons to protect the other?! Was it worth being the cause of all this pain and suffering we both had to go through?!" Dream shakes his skull as he gets up "Nevermind. You are never going to give me answers... and honestly. I am tired of you being a part of my life in anyway. I hope you rot whereever you are now." and he walks back to the forest.

It is silent and he prefers it like that. Things had been loud and hectic.

And well...

Maybe just maybe... He had done the same as Nightamre had done.

He gets to the forest lake and immediantly spots the tiny grave.

Well not grave. Dream shies away from that word. Nightmare is very much alive after all. It is more like a memorial... Wait those can be made for living people right? drema thinks so.

It was nice. It gave him a safe place to grieve and talk about everything. to imagine Nightmare across from him and listening to him. Like old times.

Dream figures that is why his own grave nad Nim's are still up. Dream knows Nightmare has to come by to take care of both graves and Dream snorts as he imagines Nightmare just telling the two graves in all the things they had been wrong in and all the stupid lies they believed.

For now he sits down and pulls out a few little knick-knacks he had collected form across the multiverse.

Dream keeps his voice quiet. Afraid someone will hear and come ruin it "Hey little brother..." he can't forget anymore that Nightmare had been his younger twin. Yet it had always been Nightmare who took care of him. "I am back..."

finally back.

Dream traces the stone and wood structure he had made. all still in perfect condition. With the AU being dead there was no more decay.

Dream organises everything he had left before sitting across from it "Sorry it took me a while. I had a.... I had an identity crisis." he snorts "I know. ironic isn't it? Everyone was always so quick to help and guide me to be what i should be yet it helped nothing. I still ended up unsure about who i was or what i had to do..."

he looks at the snowglobe he had put down "I was always jealous of how you just seemed to have it all figured out. How you were confident in what you did. Both before and after the apples. it felt like i was failing, and i guess in the end i did fail as everything i believed had been a lie..."

Dream sighs as he leans his cheek on his knee as he keeps looking at the structure "It is stupid... I had all the help in the world, and then even the multiverse. and yet still i didn't figure it out. I still didn't figure out i was a god of balance over positivity. I still didn't figure out i was doing more harm than good..."

Dream traces the grey grass under him "I was so against picking a domain Nighty... partly because i didn't want to pick something and get you stuck with something you would be hated for. Not again... but that wasn't all."

Dream hugs his legs and confesses what had been weighing him down "I was afraid of picking wrong. No, I am afraid of picking soemthing wrong. That i will pick something and once again not understand it... How did you do it Nightmare? How did you figure out what you were suposed to do? You didn't have help yet you understood...."

Drema chuckles and rubs his cheek "Not that it matters anymore. aparently i did already pick... Reaper confirmed it for me not too long ago... a god of progress. What the hell does that even mean? What does it mean i should do? I know i aparently helped blue by inspiring him to get out of that loop but still! That was on accident! what if i once again go to far?! what if i..." he hides his face "What if i mess up again?"

Guilt and Dream chuckles "Here i go again... whining about my trouble... I don't even know what my choice and pick do you... what is even the oposite of progress?! regression? Did i make it so you are stuck with like... reset stuff?!" he sighs as he rubs his cheek and rubs the tears away "This shit is so unfair... neither of us ever asked for this. We never wanted this and no one tried to help us before yet expected us to just know."

Dream stares at the memorial. no answers of course but he does feel better after speaking about his worries.

Dream chuckles as he pats the memorial gently "But.... that wasn't why i am here. As you know... today is a special day!" he turns to his pack and pulls out a bottle. it is champagne. and a few cupcakes. he lays the cupcakes between him and the structure before putting a candle on both cupcakes and lighting them.

Dream smiles as he opens the bottle and holds it up to the grave "It is our birthday!"

Dream rubs his neck "I know it must seem weird. after all! For the last i don't even know how many years i had so many people to celebrate with and so many powers and even before that it were the villagers but... well..."

his voice grows softer and softer "I miss when it was just us. After we collected berries and fresh fruits. when we would sneak off together and sit by the river to eat the fruits together and give each other small gifts..." he pulls a small wooden statue from his pack.

Dream looks at it and rubs the wood. He had spend weeks on it. an old familiar skill now unfamiliar and feeling alien in his hands. he managed to make a small owl at least. even if one eye was clearly bigger than the other and Dream now had more splinters in his hands then ever before, even more than he first started.

He places it carefully in front of the memorial "I know it... it isn't my best work... I am going to be honest, it is porbably my worst..." he just hadn't had time to try again. He tried so many times but none of them have looked right and as time went by it just kept getting worse and suddenly he didn't have time anymore.

Dream chuckles "It sucks that i.... i didn't keep up with the hobby... I hope you kept reading at least... that you had the chance to keep reading... your picture and castle seemed to reinforce this at least... there were so many books in there! and the picture of you reading..." he rubs his arm as he keeps sitting right there "I am sorry... that you felt like he had to leave and run from your home... again..." he glances down adn chuckles "look at me... rambling... lets blow out the candles okay? I will blow out both. Don't forget to make a wish."

Drema leans down and blows out the candles on both cupcakes before putting his hands together and making his wish.

A silent whisper in his mind.

please.

please.

Just give him the chance to meet Nightmare again.

To talk to him one more time.

If only once to tell him he is sorry and that Dream loves him.

Dream opens his sockets and smiles at the grave, ignoring the tears that are leaving his sockets "Did you make a wish nightmare? Remember. No telling! otherwise it wont come true!"

Dream takes the two cupcakes and eats both before opening the champagne bottle and drinking straight from it. He isn't a fan of stuff like this but champagne is suposed to be for celebrations and well... celebrating himself and his twin seems like a good reason.

He spends his afternoon like that. just being in his old AU thinking back.

Fitting. a god of progress... stuck thinking about the past.

Dream chuckles and sighs "Blue said it is fine you know? To take time and get used to everything... I just hope... that you are doing the same... taking your time to rest after everything. I can only imagine how exhausting it would ahve been to have to do everything you did while everyone was actively working against you..." he smiles up "Good news for that though! I managed to visit pretty much everyone who knew either of us personally or about us! And i managed to explain the situation! so.. hopefully... whever you are or are planning on going, people will let you be and do your thing..."

Dream smiles at the memorial with the raised bottle "to us. to the future... and... I miss you... I am sorry i didn't make it obvious how much you mean to me..."

That had to be the reason why Nightmare hadn't searched him out yet... because he beleived that Dream hated him.

And that is on Dream. On dream for not doing a good job as brother and making it obvious that he loved his twin.

Dream hums as he leans against the stone structure "I love you nighty. And I promise you, I will make it up to you once we meet again."

Maybe that is why he is the god of progress. Because he is willing to move forwards and make it up. progress towards a new future.

Dream blinks and laughs "I bet you would have heard my title and figured it out immediantly." he giggles as he leans against the stone "Happy birthday Nightmare."

Happy birthday to me.

Dream sips the expensive bottle and enjoys the peace and silence.

*-------------------------*

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[gordon-furman]

SHOCK TROOPER LORE POST

aka speculative biology + how my shock troopers work (this post requires at least a bit of knowledge of Half Life/ Opposing Force lore)

First, an explanation of the relationship between the shock trooper/Race X homeworld and Xen.

Xen is a borderworld comprising of many floating islands and the wildlife that live upon them. Existing between dimensions, most creatures upon Xen inhabit it by accident; having been brought by portal storms and then unable to leave. Other creatures purposely fled to Xen due to an oppressive alien force, such as the Nihilanth, the Vortigaunts, and other unnamed/unknown races.

Some of these are Race X native species.

Black Mesa found out about Race X by chance through their teleportation experiments. Through very calculated and very risky missions, Black Mesa was able to obtain some specimens from the places where Race X resided, as well as Xen. Those scientists then took them down to the deepest parts of Black Mesa to study.

Black Mesa had been extracting crystals and wildlife from Xen for a while, these new species were kept secret to only those with the highest clearances. Still, they were not able to gather enough data before the Cascade; when all the alien species contained within Black Mesa were unleashed unto the world.

There is no determined number amount of Shock Troopers who reside on Earth, but we estimate that they are few and far between. Unlike Vortigaunts, most (if any) Shock Troopers who inhabit Earth nowadays are hostile towards both Humans and Combine alike. However, they prove to be smart and reliable allies when possible.

Most everything we know about Shock Troopers and the other species of Race X has been filled in by Shock Troopers themselves. The following information was gathered by a Shock Trooper who had joined a small team of rebels stationed in an abandoned quarry, then passed on to rebel scientists.

THE LIFE CYCLE

(Pictured: a murky healing pool with Spore Launchers)

On their homeworld and their other colonized planets, shock trooper young (called spore launchers) start their lives in pools. They are amphibious in nature and are able to crawl upon land with their tiny arms. The majority of their life, however, is spent in the pools.

Those familar with the borderworld Xen will recognize the healing pool that serves as their watery cradle. Starting from eggs, spore launchers hatch into these pools by the dozen and stay there for much of their adolescent lives. As more hatchlings leave their leathery eggs and inhabit the pools, the natural healing power lessens and lessens; until the pool itself is murky and stagnant.

(Pictured: infant Jack, Tiger, and Spot; my half life ocs)

Adult shock troopers do not care for their young outside of feeding (though it is a common occurrence that they don't get fed), which leads to their pools being a very hostile environment in their later stages. The natural properties of the pool that healed their wounds when they were newborn no longer nurse the bigger and older spore launchers. It is not uncommon for spore launchers to be aggressive towards each other at this time. There are often so many babies in one pool that feeding is foregone entirely; leading to a strictly cannibal diet among the young (though cannibalism is a regular occurrence in pools that are well supplied with food as well.).

Spore launchers come in the same colors as Shock Troopers do, though a Shock Trooper's patterns are often determined by how much nutrients that they collected as a baby. (Which often leads to the most complex and abundant patterns belonging to the most aggressive shock troopers. Or, at least, those that were aggressive in their infant stage.)

(Pictured: Two Shock Troopers and a baby Spore Launcher)

Spore Launchers turn into Shock Troopers via a sort of metamorphosis. Mature Spore Launches encase themselves in a cocoon of their own spit (often mixed with juices and remains of Spore Fruit, a main staple in their diet) and emerge as fully grown Shock Troopers. It is at this point that they assimilate into Shock Trooper culture and community.

Shock Trooper culture is very militaristic and nationalist. They are very competitive and engage in sparing as a sport, though they do not have much to bet but food and actions. (A Shock Trooper who lost a bet, for example, might have to do an unwanted chore or something embarrassing.) They do not have clothing or music, though the very few who have spent time on Earth have enjoyed wind and percussion instruments.

Shock Trooper relationships are different from human ideas of the concept. Romantic relationships are extremely rare (occurring only under rare circumstances and only with Shock Troopers from different colonies) and sexual ones are nonexistent. This means that, in human terms, most Shock Troopers are aromantic, and all of them are biologically asexual.

Instead of romantic relationships, some examples of high value relationships within the Shock Trooper community are mentor-mentees, tight knit friend groups (or squads, as they call them) and leader- follower groups. These relationships can be as complicated as human ones at times; as one Shock Trooper might see their bond as friendship, while the other Shock Trooper might see them as a leader-follower pair.

Despite their differences, it is a common belief in their homeworld communities that Shock Troopers are 'above' all other specie, including those they have domesticated. Some domesticated species found in and around communities are Shock Roaches, Pit Drones, and Voltigores (not to be confused with Vortigaunts). Shock Roaches are symbiotic insect-like weapons, while Pit Drones and Voltigores could be compared (if need be, as these creatures are nothing like Earth creatures) to very aggressive dogs and livestock. Their farming habits support their omnivorous diet; which consists of Spore fruit and Voltigores, as well as anything else they can get their hands on.

(Pictured: a Gene Worm)

While they seem primitive in many ways, Shock Troopers are one step above Black Mesa's scientists; they have mastered reliable teleportation. While they always have a Gene Worm to create teleportation portals, they were able to use Xen crystal constructs and Sprite-powered portals in order to create a reliable network. This network was how they were able to conduct their assault on Black Mesa and attempted colonization of Earth.

Gene worms are one of the final stages of Shock Trooper evolution. Much like ants or bees, Spore Launchers turn into Gene worms with the help of a special chemical jelly diet created in the throats of Shock Troopers. The fed Spore Launcher then feeds on anything it can fit in its mouth to support it's growth, then turning into their 'queen'.

The Gene Worm is the only reproductive being among their species; dedicating much of it's time to laying eggs. There are multiple Gene Worms across their home planet and other places, so not all Shock Troopers are directly related.

Interestingly enough, though Shock Troopers feed and care for the Gene Worm well into it's adulthood, it is not out of any obligation. Ants serve a queen. This queen serves its offspring. The Gene Worm is able to create and change the landscape around it to create a perfect home for Shock Troopers. This, mixed with their teleportation knowledge, has led them to successfully terraform and colonize one other planet besides their own.

(Pictured: a Gene Worm and a Tentacle)

The last example of the Shock Trooper life cycle are Tentacles. Like the Gene Worm, these creatures evolve from Spore Launchers who are fed a special diet. Unlike the Gene Worm, however, these Tentacles are made to the guards of Gene Worm nests and other important areas. Relatively blind, they attack their opponents using hearing to pinpoint their locations. Shock Troopers make sure to vocalize loudly while in their presence to ensure that the Tentacles will not mistake them for an enemy.

Shock Troopers are complicated and highly intelligent creatures who are yet untouched by the decimation of the Combine. Maybe, just maybe, they would make good allies in the future for the war against the Combine; if they knew what was at stake.

However, knowing the overall nationalistic culture of the Shock Troopers and their previous attempt to colonize Earth...probably not.

[elliott-the-creature]

finally finished the designs for all the queens of my fan series!!! I love all of their designs, and I’m so glad I can flesh this world out more :)

some more info on each queen below (and tumblr may have destroyed the quality, so click on the image if you want a better look)⬇️

Queen Rafflesia is the second oldest queen in Xevenay (my fan continent), and is the current leader of the MudWings. She is described as a very fair and well rounded queen, and is fiercely loyal and dedicated to running her tribe. She may not be as young and spry as when she was younger, but she’ll do anything to make sure her tribe is safe, happy, and strong. Rafflesia and her sib group are currently working on repairing the damage done to her tribe’s territory after the Hive Takeover (a war that resulted in most of her tribe abandoning their land when they were attacked by HiveWings). The next queen in line is going to be Rose Mallow (her granddaughter).

Queen Lapis is the current queen of the SeaWings, and has stepped into her role quite smoothly. After the death of Queen Tuna due to old age, Lapis was deemed fit for queenhood, and is a complete natural. She is the twin of Princess/General Lazuli, and is the complete opposite of her fierce, ambitious sister. Lapis is fair, calm-minded, rational, and a very intelligent dragon. Many SeaWings are relieved that she was chosen as the next queen rather than Lazuli, as although Lazuli is an amazing general and a fierce warrior, she wouldn’t be quite fit for queenhood—unlike Lapis. There has been no current heir picked, as Lapis is a fairly new Queen and is still young and healthy.

Queen Tangerine is the current queen of the RainWings, and is pretty different from the previous two discussed. She is short-tempered, easily annoyed, and likes things to stay consistent. Dragonets are probably her least favourite thing in the world, but luckily her heirs have been raised by her husband and wife—who are way better at taking care of dragonets than her. She is proudly polyamorous, and loves all her partners dearly. Despite all of her flaws, she has been a pretty popular queen throughout her ruling; at least by pure RainWings—hybrids aren’t too fond of her due to her distaste of them. The next queen in line is going to be Kiyomi (her daughter).

Queen Dusk is the current queen of the SandWings, and is an often overlooked queen. It’s not that she’s boring or weak or anything like that, it’s just that she hasn’t done anything too significant during her ruling. She did offer sanctuary to many SandWings who were affected by the Hive Takeover (as the HiveWings did encroach on Sand Kingdom territory, but didn’t end up taking much land due to harsh conditions), and sent out many military units to help defend her borders and other neighbouring kingdoms (such as the Mud Kingdom and Sky Kingdom). Other than her contributions to the most recent conflicts, she hasn’t done much, and is a pretty solitary queen who enjoys music and writing. The next queen in line is going to be Ringtail (her cousin (in my universe, cousins are able to become queens)).

Queen Dreamcatcher is the oldest queen on the continent, and is the current queen of the NightWings. In her long life, she has been through many hardships and battles, but despite all that, she is a very kind and generous queen. She almost single-clawedly repaired her tribe after a rough ruling from her grandmother, and due to this, she is quite popular with not only the NightWing tribe, but the other neighbouring tribes too. Maybe it’s the age getting to her, or maybe she’s always been like this, but Dreamcatcher has always been the most lax of all the queens on rules and regulations. Nowadays, her ruling is split between her, her husband, and her granddaughter (and future ruler) Hopefulsight.

Queen Topaz is the current queen of the SkyWings, although she wishes she wasn’t. Before her ruling, her sister, Queen Redtail, ruled the SkyWings amazingly, and was popular with all the tribes. But after being killed in a battle during the Hive Takeover, Topaz was forced to step in as the next queen quite unexpectedly. Due to this, Topaz is a very bitter and angry dragon, and often takes out her frustrations on her servants and royal councillors. The only dragon Topaz seems to tolerate is Queen Lapis—in fact, they were formerly very close friends and clawmates at Jewel Mountain Academy before they both had to step into their royal roles more. There is no current heir picked, as Topaz refuses to appoint one.

Queen Floe is the current leader of the IceWings, and is a queen you should definitely not mess with. She is wicked smart, and thanks to her extensive knowledge and large council, makes her a formidable opponent and a very intimidating dragon. However, she isn’t a terrible dictator or something like that. She’s surprisingly fair and respectful, and takes the time to work out any intertribal conflicts with grace and precision. Outside of her tribe though, she can be quite prickly and hard to get to know, and isn’t afraid to stand up for what she wants. The next queen in line is going to be Larna (her niece).

Queen Sunflower is the newest appointed queen in Xevenay, and her road to queendom has been quite a rough one. She was the one to kill the previous queen of the HiveWings—her mother, Queen Cadmium—after she went on a crazy power trip and started the Hive Takeover. She was almost killed by Cadmium, and was left with a scarred face, a mangled ear, and a broken horn. Since then, the HiveWings have been slowly rebuilding their tribe and paying their respects to the other tribes that had been damaged during the war—and all of this burden lays on poor Sunflower. She is very different than the average HiveWing, as she is much more considerate and kind, but that is a welcome change after the tyrant that was Cadmium. She has appointed Princess Ladybug as an heir in case things go wrong, but it is very unlikely that anyone will challenge Queen Sunflower.

Queen Azure is the current queen of the SilkWings, and is the definition of SilkWing stereotypes. She’s an often overlooked queen due to her softness and dislike of conflict, but to her, that’s perfectly fine. She’s a very agreeable queen, and is always willing to lend a claw to other tribes if they need help or resources. As a result, she’s been taken advantage of by quite a few other queens, and her council is often frustrated by her inability to set firm boundaries. She also has a fondness for humans, and makes sure Moorlands (the human town in SilkWing territory) is doing well and isn’t being targeted by other human-hating dragons. The next queen in line is going to be Claudina (her cousin).

Queen Acorn is the current queen of the LeafWings, and has had a rough time with her rule. During her early years as queen, she had to work with the NightWings quite extensively in order to prevent a full-blown war (it’s a very long story involving animus abuse and dragons possessing others lol), and even implemented a rule stating that animus dragons cannot be used like tools by their queens, and that abuse against animi is forbidden. Nowadays, Acorn is a secluded queen, preferring to keep LeafWing business to themselves and overall being a polite but distant figure of authority. The next queen in line is going to be Briar.

Queen Raven is the current queen of the RoostWings, and is one of my personal favourites. She’s gone through a lot during her short life as queen, but she’s handled it very well. From setting up the new Roostwing territory after fleeing their old home, to dealing with 11 other tribes that the RoostWings have never interacted with or even knew of their existence until recently, she’s been through it. However, she’s remarkably resilient and good-hearted, and just wants what’s best for her tribe and family. There are no current heirs old enough to be considered for the throne, but she’s planning on having eggs soon, and has a niece of her own who seems promising.

Last but certainly not least, Queen Emerald. She’s the current queen of the CaveWings, and has only recently become a somewhat unpopular queen. Before the CaveWing Emergence, she was respected and well liked by all CaveWings due to her desire to keep the CaveWing communities healthy and safe, and her plans to expand their underground home into more sustainable territory. However, after the CaveWings were rediscovered and emerged to live alongside “the surface dwellers”, Emerald’s old ways started to make change and adaptation harder, and a number of dragons believed that a new queen that wanted the CaveWings to mingle with the other tribes and was more willing to work with other tribes would be more desirable. Emerald hasn’t caught onto these rumours yet, but luckily she has an heir—Princess Tsavorite—that would replace her if anything… unfortunate… were to happen.

[number1mingyustan]

Ridin’☾

streetracer!yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: smut, established relationship,

Warnings: choking, unprotected sex (riding), grinding, kissing, cursing, creampie

Summary: Who doesn't love a late night drive?

Word Count: 2.3k

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The night air is cold, so you’re quick to make your way to the car. It’s beautiful, a nicely polished white car with red and black detailing. You almost regret wearing a skirt, but as soon as you climb into the passenger seat you feel the heat inside of the car.

Yeonjun looks over at you with one hand resting on the steering wheel. “Hey baby.”

He leans over, planting a kiss on your lips. “Hi,” you smile.

You weren’ t supposed to be here. It was a little after 1 am and your parents think you’re in bed sleeping right now. Granted, they’re asleep too and you’ve gotten damn good at sneaking out since you and Yeonjun started dating.

You know they’d absolutely freak if they ever found out you and were dating, and Yeonjun at that. He definitely wasn’t the type of person to bring home, especially not to your parents.

He wasn’t necessarily a bad guy. He’s gotten into some trouble along the way, but nothing too extreme. However you know your parents would immediately disapprove if you brought home the 6’1 boy with all his tats piercings and all.

Granted, you had a secret tattoo of your own thanks to him, not that they’d find out any time soon anyway.

It’s been a bit hard to hide stuff from them lately because Yeonjun loves spoiling you so much. Random gifts often catch your parent’s attention nowadays, forcing you to lie to them more than you already do.

Your story was nothing out of the ordinary. The straight A good girl falls in love with the troublemaker hot guy. The extremely played out romeo and juliet trope, but nonetheless a goodie.

“You look cute,” he smirks, shamelessly eyeing you up and down.

He loved the way you dressed. You were always dressed so bright and bubbly. Your style consisted of plenty of pink and baby blue, headbands, skirts, fuzz, sweaters, leg warmers, and thigh highs. He absolutely fucking loved the thigh highs.

It contrasted him too perfectly, as he was currently dressed in a pair of ripped black jeans and a black graphic tee. There were silver rings decorating his fingers, like always.

“Thank you,” you respond. “You look cute too.”

Yeonjun chuckles. “Do I?”

You nod your head enthusiastically.

“Thank you baby,” he starts up the car. “Are you ready?”

You nod again. It’s all he needs before he speeds off into town. You’ve scolded him many times about driving so recklessly when he’s close to your house, but he never listens.

This has become a bit of a routine for you. Every Friday night at around this time, Yeonjun picks you up and you drive to the abandoned racetrack on the edge of town where Yeonjun races. At first, you hated it.

He was risking his life and committing a crime on a weekly basis, but it paid well when he won. And Yeonjun always won. The first time he brought you, you were terrified. You watch him zoom through the track with the other cars, going at least 90mph recklessly.

Slowly, you grew more comfortable. You’ve even been in the car with him a couple times during his races. It’s not really your scene, but you can see why Yeonjun enjoys it.

It’s not long before he pulls up to the familiar track. A crowd has already formed and cars have begun lining up at the starting line.

“You ridin’ with me?” he asks.

You think to yourself for a second before shaking your head. “Nah, I’ll be waiting for you at the finish line.”

He pouts. “You sure baby?”

You rode with him in a race, one time and one time only. Truthfully, you did have a lot of fun. But you’re not one to put your life in danger for a bit of thrill. Once was more than enough for you.

“Yes I’m sure,” you open the passenger side door. “I have to tutor tomorrow morning, I’m not risking my life.”

“You know I always take care of you,” he leans over.

“I’ll be waiting for you when you win,” you tell him.

He frowns before placing a kiss on your lips. “Be good my good luck charm,” he tells you.

You back away from the car, continuing to wave at him as you start walking toward the stands. He drives away toward the starting line and you push through the crowd.

You push your way to the front in order to watch the race from the best view possible. The engines are revving as the countdown begins.

3

2

1

Go!

The race starts and your boyfriend immediately takes the lead. People are cheering from the stands, yourself included as the cars circle the track.

No one really competes with Yeonjun’s speed, falling behind him and staying there for the duration of the race.

The cars circle the track 3 times trailing behind your boyfriend. The crowd is roaring with excitement throughout the race, and they only go wild when he jets through the finish line. The other cars soon follow after him, and he parks the car near the edge of the track. He climbs out of the car, flipping his head back and running his hand through his hair before scanning the audience for you. You stand up on the railing and wave at him excitedly. He blows you a kiss and shoots you a wink.

You watch as he pulls out his phone and types something before your phone buzzes. You look down at his text.

‘meet me in the lot’

By the time you look up, he’s already in his car revving up the engine and driving off the track and out of sight. You know which lot he’s talking about, it’s the area the cars go before and after races,but it’s about a 10 minute walk away considering most people drive around here.

__

You spot him, leaning against his vehicle while talking to Kai, his best friend at the tracks. There’s music playing from inside Kai’s car parked next to him. The two boys are talking, but his attention immediately turns to you when he sees your approaching him. He holds up his middle and ring finger, creating a ‘come here’ motion.“Did I make you proud?”

You walk up to the car sheepishly. “Yes,” you breathe out. “I knew you were gonna win.”

He smirks again. “Yeah, told you you’re my good luck charm.” He wraps an arm around you, pulling your body close to his.

He continues his conversation with Kai, but you find yourself quickly growing bored. Silently, to take his arm off your shoulder and walk to the passenger side of the car to wait for him. You sit inside of the vehicle on your phone for a few minutes before he knocks on the window.

You lower in, looking up at him. “You ready to go?” he asks.

You nod.

He plants a quick kiss on your lips. “Okay baby, give me a few minutes and we’ll go.”

The boys continue talking, but they’re soon interrupted by the sound of sirens and blue and red light flashing.

Oh yeah, what Yeonjun does is extremely illegal. The race track is an abandoned property no one is supposed to go on and there’s so much better that goes on about the dangerous sport.

“Shit,” Kai says.

The boys exchange a quick look before scrambling. Moments later Yeonjun is in the driver’s seat, starting up the car. The engine revs loudly and he speeds off. You hold on for your dear life, he can’t get caught, not with you in the car. If it was just him, it would be less than ideal but he could easily get away. But if he got arrested with you and your parents found out? He’d be a goner.

He races off, driving into the city. The cops trail behind him for a bit, but you know Yeonjun. He car twists and turns sharply as he drives through different side streets to outrun the police. Your heart is beating so fast.

“Yeonjun?” you ask.

“Hmm?” he hums.

“Where are we going?”

“You trust me right?” he asks.

“Of course, but I—“

“Just trust me.”

You stay silent, simply observing your surroundings. Once he loses sight of the cops, he pulls into the parking lot of a park. The area is secluded and dark, perfect. He parks the car

He pulls you in onto his lap from the passenger side. He doesn’t bother to say anything , simply running his hands up your thighs as he begins kissing your neck. "Wanna show me how proud you are? Hmm?”

“No way you’re actually horny from running away from the cops,” you breathe out.

It was a combination of the high he felt from racing and your outfit that did it for him, you looked so cute. A fitted cloth baby pink and white dress with leg warmers and moon boots. He loves that you’re so dressed up for him in the middle of the night. Your dress rides up at be adjusts you on his lap.

Besides, the adrenaline is pumping through his body and you look so fucking good. He knows you guys are safe from the cops and a release seems perfect right about now.

Your lips find one another’s desperately. He hands are on your thighs, pulling your dress up further and further until your your little pink panties are exposed.

His hands guide your hips, causing you to grind against him. Your panties are thin, allowing you to feel everything right where you need him. He’s growing harder in his jeans, cock poking right onto your clit as your grind down on him.

You’re soaking through your panties from the friction. You moan against his lips as you grow more desperate for contact with him.

You pull away hurriedly and reach for his jeans. Your hands fiddle with his his belt. He watches you, panting with a pink tint flushing across his face. His lips are swollen from kissing you, plump and puckered.

You finally undo his pants, pulling out his cock and stroking it. He leans back in the seat, smirking as he watches you jerk him off. The more you touch him, the more he leaks. The clear fluid spurts from his cock, coating the palm of your hand and lubricating his length.

“Shit,” he breathes out.

He quickly grows impatient, lifting you up and pulling your panties to the side. You’re so wet for him and he hasn’t even properly touched you. He slides the tip of his cock along your entrance, causing shivers to spread through your body.

He guides you down onto his cock, filling you up inch by inch slowly. You moan out as he stretches you open. It feels so good to have him inside of you again, to be full of him.

He takes his time splitting you open initially, but as soon as you adjust to his length he’s merciless. He quickly picks up the pace in his movements, pushing his hips up to fuck you. You bounce every time he thrusts into you, feeling his cock poke deep inside of you.

“You love it when I fuck you like this huh? Treat you like the dirty girl you are hmm? He mumbled into the crook of your neck.

“S-Shut up!” you moan.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “You’re lucky this pussy is so good. I should cum in your mouth next time,” he yanks on your hair, tipping your head back forcefully. “That way you can’t talk back to me.”

You let out a strangled moan at his words. His hand is now wrapped around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you see stars. He’s absolutely fucking you dumb right now and you love it. You love the way he’s rough with you, pounding into you at a harsh pace.

His cock stretches you open with each thrust, pushing deeper and deeper up your lower abdomen.

The windows are foggy and the car jerks with each thrust of his cock. You’re holding onto him for dear life as you feel the pleasure building in your lower region as he wrecks you.

You’re crying out his name like a chant, moaning pathetically. “ ‘M gonna cum baby, can I? Please let me, ‘m so close- fuck—so close.”

You feel him smirk into your skin at your begging. “Go ahead,” he permits.

He stills his hips, allowing you to ride out your orgasm while using him. He watches as you enter a state of bliss above him, grinding your hips into him desperately as you get off on him.

He thinks you’ve never looked sexier, in your pretty pink bouncing on his cock whole you cry out his name and use him for your own pleasure. It’s a sight to see.

You’re tightening around him, squeezing his cock perfectly as your orgasm pulses through your body. Fuck, he thought he was gonna last longer than this. But you’re squeezing him too good, too tight.

He curses, hips growing erratic as his orgasm courses through his body. He pumps his load inside of you as he thrusts messily. His head is tilted back, plump lips parted as he fills you up.

You both come down from your highs, panting heavily. There’s. a sticky mess you’ve created on his lap that causes you to cringe.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as he looks down. “I gotta get you home.”

You frown. It’s nearly 3 am and you know he’s right. Besides, you’re created quite the mess and you need to clean up. He lifts you up, causing you to cringe again as he pulls out of you. You sit back down on the passenger seat and fix your clothes. He redoes his pants, cringing at the very visible wet spot on the front.

He leans over and plants a kiss on your lips. “You’re so pretty baby.”

He licks his lips and smiles at you. You smile back at him. “I love you.”

He starts up the car again. “I love you too, now let’s get you home yeah?”

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© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[onelocket]

you'll never get rid of me, oh i'm like a fucking disease

fyodor d. x reader

prompting guide -- It's like seeing your lover, but at the same time, it wasn't him. With the way he is, with the way he rocks you back and forth to despair, with the way he separates Fyodor to himself as he spoke, ultimately from the way he treated you. The real Fyodor would never do this to you.

requested by -- a kind anon<3 (click here for more context)

involves -- self-harm, reader seeing and hearing things, fear of abandonment, heavy obsession, light mind breaking?, headcanons of ability crime & punishment - where shibusawa's fog in dead apple is not needed for ability manifestations.

Before you knew it, time became your own enemy instead.

Time? To be somebody's opponent? Such person can only be so foolish.

Had you just been discarding all your other emotions that you’re now dying to at least feel something even when you once tried to throw it all away?

Discomfort, confusion, denial and anger, they all wanted to wash on you repeatedly. Like you were some form of washing machine to these emotions you were so fed up experiencing so often.

But like a normal washing machine… too much of a heavy load can eventually cause it to break.

And finally, it’s as if the grand scheme of terror slowly strikes through you.

Your knees heedlessly press themselves deeper to the soft creamy mattress below your body. Your nails could attack if it wanted to — holding onto the white window sill while you watch the heavy rain suddenly wash down like the world has sinned again.

The rain seemed to be a frequent occurrence nowadays, always greeting you by the window while leaving droplets for you to distract yourself with. Push comes to shove, you could quite say the rain was your only acquaintance left in this small room.

Fyodor had become busier for weeks unnumbered, and the rain didn’t help you understand grasps of how he’d be doing right now.

You couldn’t keep count with how long you’ve been stuck in this home. If it could even be called a home at this point.

Sure did you walk outside from day to day, but somehow each occurrence makes your body shiver — like somebody... no, rather something was watching you every step and turn you took. Regardless of its motives, you ended up isolating yourself with no lover to see.

Yet eventually did you grow tired of it. You just wanted to bash the windows into shattered glass and escape, to find your beloved who you knew didn’t find fond of the wet weather.

But you couldn’t.

If you even dared to think about it, words come to spiral your mind and soul, displeasing words that come from him and only him.

The him who doesn’t like it when you ask or force to escape. The him who hated it when you disobeyed unspoken edicts. While you knew that, could you really just let him continue this nonsense?

"But on the contrary, shouldn't you content at home - away from troubling Fyodor?"

You could still hear his damned voice as if he was right behind you.

“Jeez, just shut up—!” You yelled in a trance, hands slapping the bed sheets as you hastily turn around, hoping to God he wasn’t within centimeters away from you right now.

But he wasn’t even there. Just the closed doors and pretty decorations you’ve memorized it’s locations at this point.

“…For the love of-” You cursed out quietly, pausing as your eyes narrow down at your wrist helplessly pressing themselves on the mattress, your fingers curling your hands into a fist that could quite literally rip the silk if you tried hard enough.

All you needed to know was given… Fyodor's voice was but a sound in your head. And that question had been asked earlier, not right now.

Why were you suddenly hearing his voice in your head today? And he had said so much too. It was annoying at first, but gradually did it make you panic more.

Such a situation has never happened before, in fact you were more focused to being all excited and prepping yourself to look your best both mentally and physically when he comes back. And its not that Fyodor never comes back from time to time just to check up on you, because he really does, ensuring you were safe and well.

Maybe the voice in your head was right - shouldn't you at least feel grateful that he still finds a cut through his day to return and see you? Yet why, why can't I get a grip of myself?

You couldn’t deny you kept thinking and thinking about your beloved — after all, it’s only natural. But recently, his voice really got grasp of your mind. Your attention. Your whole being, in a way you would even dare wish for him to leave you if it meant to stop this madness ringing in your head constantly, night by night.

What's worse was that this voice of his had its own manifestation who'd come out to taunt you — earlier, in these struggling minutes would you see your lover in a darker, almost sinister shade of purple, like an crystalline illusion who looked just like the man you kiss and devote your heart to. A part of you was glad him himself had faded away from both your sight and head, though you also theorized that perhaps is so because of how exhausted you've gotten listening to it.

It's like seeing your lover, but at the same time, it wasn't him. With the way he is, with the way he rocks you back and forth to despair, with the way he separates Fyodor to himself as he spoke, ultimately from the way he treated you.

The real Fyodor would never do this to you.

It hurt that he looked like Fyodor. You couldn't even get angry at it. You couldn't even tell the real Fyodor about it — for he wasn't visiting yet. And you bet he wouldn't be anyway.

"He wouldn’t be so happy to know that his impatient lover started act like this."

"That’s not you missing him anymore, that’s obsession."

"Who would ever want to see such an obsessive, fragile person like you? It's amazing how he still keeps you in his arms and returns to you even if he has zero reason to, milaya."

"Be grateful for him. You wouldn’t want him to come home with an angry face, do you?"

You blench at your minds taunt. If it wasn't him, then it'd be your head next. How amusing.

Those words played through as if it has ever said them to you, as if a flashback. But you knew well it never said such thing earlier. Sure had he said similar things, but these ones felt unheard of. At least to your memory. So why…

"Why… why can’t I get myself together?"

I’m so scared.

What… what happens to me now? Will this voice continue to haunt me?

Fyodor, just please come back.

Your mind couldn’t function — such contradict to what you always least expected when rain said hello. Always, you felt blank and free from worry - but now you felt as if the rain was also hitting your chest, filling you up till you drown even in such a suffocating room. Or could it just be…

Knock knock.

Your breath hitched right the second - eyes widening to the faint noise.

For a moment, you just sat there, eyes glued to the blank walls that you swore was turning darker in your eyes.

"N-No, no! He can’t…" You stuttered out in fear, your knees acting on its own as it recklessly gets off the bed for you to follow without a choice, feeling your heart beat in an abnormal pace.

He can’t be back now, no.

Rather than be so excited and running to see him, you felt as if you don’t even want to see a second of his face plastered with an expression when he sees you so pathetic and 'suddenly' afraid.

You didn’t want even a fleeting moment of seeing anything his appearance possessed — not even if it meant you’d be saved by God. God must be more merciful than that, right? Why can't He let you just get through this problem yourself? You didn't want to look so pitiful to your lover. You didn't want to see the look on his face, what words he could spew out, what-

"Ouch.." Without even waiting for you to do anything about it, you find yourself already on the floor with your knees painfully pressed against that harsh wood. Had you fallen on your knees? But it should've hurt way earlier on, shouldn’t it?

Still, all you found yourself replying to a sudden fall was your fingers lightly clawing on the wooden texture before you feel the whole room go redder and redder.

Feel… as if you could even feel color.

You had to quite literally deny any other thought that was conscious in your mind before you finally, slowly stood up from the floor. Not only were you struggling to speak, your hands were shaking so badly it could quite possibly tear off your own wrists.

God, imagining that was making it worse.

As quick as you try to restrain — the sounds of grains void your mind, making your chest heave at an end corrupted while you just stood there, desperate to scratch any logic in your distressed head.

You can’t fail yourself right now, no, that just wasn’t a choice… you had to do something. Say something, maybe? The rain was even louder than you were right now, and you didn’t like that.

You didn’t like that something you couldn’t control could overpower you.

So back and forth, your eyes went. You looked all around the dull bedroom whilst shakily standing on the singular spot of the wooden floor, a hand needed to press itself on your chest as you couldn’t control even a thought in your mind at its rate.

You couldn't see, hear nor even feel the illusion that crept your head to scream, so what was scaring you? Was it because of that knocking noise just now? Be as that sound may, the only door to this bedroom hadn't clicked an inch, nor was somebody stepping in. Maybe that was also in my head? Ahaha- fuck, I'm making fools out myself.

"Okay— ouch, okay.. c-calm down, it’s fine." You tried reassuring yourself, your body sitting right back on the cushion behind you with your hands clamp desperately on your knees, trying to at least keep your breathing at note.

You lied to yourself. It wasn’t fine at all — none of this was fine, yet if you wanted to get through this some way or another… the last thing you’d want is your heart jumping right out of your throat from all of your fear.

Breathing heavily, your eyes stopped its chase for nothing in hopes to keep you focused and hopefully, somehow find comfort in knowing you were still breathing and in a ‘safe room’, despite a voice in you still leaving a traumatic print to fail the assurance feel genuine.

If anything — perhaps the outside to your window was the safest, but could you really escape when the darkness of tonight threatened you to stay? Not to mention, what could Fyodor do if he finds you suddenly gone? Or worse- he could find me running around like some sick manic.

So you just let your eyes glance back and forth helplessly to keep your head frozen. In this situation, maybe to keep being distracted was for the better of yourself. So back and forth it went until eventually — they reach down to your knees.

"…Blood?" You barely voiced out, "..W-When did…"

Small freckles of blood was staining your exposed knees, which was probably formed from your earlier fall. While your knees weren’t completely bruised, they definitely left some damage. And you didn’t like it. The sight of blood.

Letting a heavy exhale, your hands shift up to touch more of your new little problem, a small whimper escaping you when you feel how bad it stung even if you just pressed a finger on it. It hurt a lot..

But maybe, this could help out. Right?

Too in a trance to even think otherwise, thunder flashes white in your view before your nails began to paw and claw your mild bruises into something nastier and nastier.

Itch by itch, scratch by scratch, you went and kept going — ignoring your hisses of pain as the blood just kept leaking out, dirtying your nails while you just begged for a distraction to keep your head in place.

A part of you tried to snap, saying this wasn’t right.

But was anything right at this point? You didn't want to see your only source of comfort because of a mirror of hallucination taunting you with him, where there was right?

You just needed to forget everything, every noise, every pair of eye that you felt that was watching you, everything. Even if the cost was this.

You fail to listen to yourself, only letting the fear in you fool you into thinking this was fine as you choked up a cry, "G-God… God, fuck, God.." cursing his name like something will come out of it. Despite every cut and scent of something sickeningly rusty metallic that you registered, your head was the only thing that kept hurting you.

What if the voice was right?

What if I'm really not deserving to have Fyodor?

But I've given my everything! From my love, to my patience, my devotion... m-my own soul-

"T-this is all your fault!" You end up yelling out loud, one of your hands punching your knee as the other grabbed onto anything it could — in this case being the bed frame. With how sudden it was however, both hands ultimately end up hurting you; that same hands fingernails grazing onto the wood way too harshly it results in you shrieking in discomfort, like your nail had been sliced off.

"God- damn... it," You gasp out, your hands shakily moving up to your hands as they tremble, one knee bruised starker than the other. But really, both hurt too much. "If only you d-didn't decide to do this to me, maybe t-then I- maybe then I wouldn't be so...!" You kept sobbing out, voice all a strain and struggling as you stand up from the bed, only to fall on the floor — knees first.

Oh, but you had to realize that at some point in this relationship, didn't you?

To know you never were worth Fyodor. Even one bit. Be as you may love him, do you think that'll be enough to exchange his? You love him, so what? You're nothing but a normal person in this world — no abilities, no worth, no purpose. While you knew he was out there changing the world, something you could never do even if you wanted to.

Perhaps Fyodor truly likes to play mock to return the romance you felt to him. Or maybe he found it pitiful — you pitiful, that you decide to hook on love rather than realize your lack of merit.

You couldn't stop your mind regardless of what you seemed to do, head down as you find yourself slowly bending over, resting your head against your arms as you laid there, sobbing your heart out.

Maybe I do need you right now, Fyodor. Please.

.

A silent night came with a quiet click that confirms your lovers return, him taking a short glance at the door whilst his hand kept hold of the doorknob. In his mind had he expected to already see you even by the window, however you were not present. Regardless, it didn't bother him much. Maybe you were in another room, resting.

He turns away from the shut door, continuous with his actions after that brief pause as his hands move to his long black cloak, in plans to take them off. Yet before he would even slide his fingers to pull the soft fabric away, his ears would catch a faint sound in the distance.

Was it you? Fyodor couldn't grasp the noise properly but who else could it be? It was only you two who lived here, after all.

He sighed, dragging the cloak off of his shoulders before deftly hooking it on the standing coat rack, his ushanka hat soon being placed there as well. Right after followed his boots, placing them below the rack; movements graceful, yet somehow in a hurry.

It wasn't exactly ideal — Fyodor preferring to have his belongings inside your shared bedroom, or at least in a closet, but he can do that later.

He wants to see you first. Yet at the same time, what was with this deadly, suffocating silence? If Fyodor was any less, he'd be shaken by the cold and dreary atmosphere. Had you gotten yourself in trouble?

Such questions were almost humbly answered however when another sound catches Fyodor's ears, this time one of a shaky whimper like it overpowered a heavy exhale. Even it dressed as a negative emotion did he easily code down the voice — knowing who it was. Assuredly confirming you were somewhere in this house, his eyes narrowed a little, head now focused on another thing.

So he began to walk, his footsteps hushed yet progressive as he, almost as if without guessing, stopped by the bedroom door. It's quite late at night, so he figured you'd be inside here among the other rooms.

Each step felt like he was creating dents on the floor, Fyodor having to pause as he hears your muffled, discomforted noises against the thick door. He kept his silence, however for the first time did he feel like yours and this homes could overpower his.

Eventually did his hand meet the doorknob, the other giving a firm knock on the door. "(Name)?" He whispered, fingers making the smallest twist to the doorknob. "May I come in?"

Not a single reply takes the honor.

He felt his chest rise, a familiar curl threatening to curve his heart as time felt a little slower now. Barely did you leave your lover unanswered, especially when there's no secret to where you were now.

Fyodor took a deep breath before opening the door, keeping his expression blank. Yours however, was not.

"F-Fyodor..?" You gasp out, eyes widening as you just sit there, shaking fingers pressed on your wet and puffy face. "Fyo-Fyodor... oh.. oh my God.."

He pressed his lips together, simply standing there as he looks at you. Knees bleeding and bruised, hair messy and fingernails dirty. A sight opposite to the warmth he feels with you. Your legs were plopped into a froggy position, back leaning against the bedframe as your chest kept heaving out the pain that wasn't at all released even from the sight of your red and tired eyes — as if you've failed to sleep for days.

And as twisted as it was, it managed to make Fyodor smile. It wasn't sadistic... rather, pleased.

He knew you wouldn't be able to see it amidst your blurry vision after all.

"My milaya, what's wrong?" He cooed, dropping the smile immediately as he walked closer to you. You failed to give him even a grim smile as you stifle, the tears warning to return with an even meaner extent. You try to stutter something, but he denies, "Shh. Come here." crouching down to see your crying face.

You gave no chance to say no to the offer, a hurt whimper escaping your quivering lips as you pretty much pounce on your lover, wrapping your hands around his neck with your fingers too shaky to even try to touch his hair.

Normally would he reply in the second by wrapping his arms around you too, but found himself swiftly catching his palms to coop on your kneecaps, refusing such bruised skin to get even more hurt against the floor which would've definitely grazed on if he didn't do so. He'll admit it hurt, knuckles probably stained with scratches, but that'll bother later.

"Fyodor... Fy-Fyodor, n-nmm.. please," You beg in between hiccups and sobs, head resting against his shoulders as he carefully brings his hands off your knees, watching your legs adjust to bring the wounds to a safer level before he places his hands on your back.

"Let it out." Fyodor simply whispered out to you, one hand lightly caressing your hair. "I-I'm so sorry...!" You squeak out, your cries uncomfortably rising themselves louder as you were a hundred percent sure it had already stained his white clothing, but oh did nothing feel important when his hands kept hold of you.

You were able to feel his position shift as he sat down on the floor, bringing you to lean on him. You took his silence as a reply to keep going, but either way would've you done so even if he spoke again. So you rant out, "P-please, Fyodor I- I beg of you, p-please keep loving me... I-I'll do anything, oh- oh my God I'd do anything.. just please," and albeit you didn't see — your words had successfully made Fyodor's eyes widen.

Such broken voice... it paired up with your damaged state like a small dish served on a small plate, it's consumer being your own lover.

Oh how he loved to see it so much, your body and soul aching to be with him even to the point it derives to cuts like these. But perhaps it is what made him love you more.

"I'm here now." He voices out, rubbing your back comfortably as he presses soft, continuous kisses on the top of your head. "It's okay, milaya. Don't apologize." He hushes, words short but able to aid you solace.

Had he not foreseen your situation then maybe would he say more, but alas... such so are all what he says as only your cries respond to his actions, and he returns it with a loving, quiet embrace.

..

Once he had felt your body weight depend on him, Fyodor tilts his head a little — seeing your pretty eyes away from his view with your eyelids fluttered shut. Your stifling had downed and so did your heavy breathing, your heartbeat catchable pressed against Fyodor's own chest. Perhaps now would be right to patch you up and tend you to bed, but he couldn't bring his body to do so right now.

Keeping you close, his attention eventually turned away as his eyes met the open window right in front of you two, only bordered by the shared bed. Who sat there? Well.. a sight in purple, dressed exactly like who held you in his arms.

Who, unknown to you, is none other than his ability; a manifestation of what the world feared of Fyodor.

He was as if crystal — transparent... yet somehow physical as he tilts his head to Fyodor, ushanka hat slightly shifting.

"Enlighten me." He whispered, voice as if an echo with the way it delivers. "Why am I helping you when they're clearly missing you?"

Your lover started with a small smile, one of which was a more expressive version of his previous one as he places a hand behind your head, gently pulling you closer to him. "Have you forgotten? Crime and punishment are close acquaintances. Once crime is chosen, punishment is acted upon regardless if one deserved it."

The other party kept quiet, eyes narrowing as he took stare of you and your lover; or rather, crime. It wasn't like he didn't know what to say, rather he expected more words out of Fyodor's mouth. And Fyodor saw that in his expression.

So your lover continued after a second of glancing at your hair, "My love might hint them more value in my eyes, but they still lie on my side of the chess board. They may be the queen or the king — the strongest or the most important one as they wish to see themselves, however it is I who still has them to own.. and I will make sure they don't forget. It's as simple as so."

"My, you cannot fool all with your lacy, twisted words." His ability replied, a comparative smile apparent in his face as one hand moves down to the window sill, a finger tapping on the smooth wood.

"You are incapable of true happiness no matter who you are with, no matter what assurance or promise they tell you. Once important to you, your possession and obsession will seek, covering your desires as something for the better. Better for whom? Themselves, or for your own affirmation?"

Fyodor's ability both sounded serious and amused. It was impossible to read the truth that seeped in his voice. Well, if you heard it, at least. To Fyodor however would he hum to softly, sharp eyes watching the sat down manifestation as predicted as much with its words.

The manifestation was right after all. To hear and see you so pathetic wasn't Fyodor's favorite thing in the world, but if it was for him, acquainted with your voice begging him to keep loving you for you would devotedly give yours? Well, one things for sure, he had planned this out.

Possessively would Fyodor keep his hand behind the back of your head, his other hand now travelling to meet your waist as he hugged you, sharp eyes up at the copy of which categorized as his ability with a small, perhaps sarcastic smile whilst he pressed a fleeting kiss on your hair with a quiet chuckle, confirming your slumber despite the shared exchange of words about you.

"Hm, is this your way of reprimanding your own user? I don’t see anyone moved by it — especially with them sleeping in my arms, neglecting the fact that it is the main crime holding them like the object they committed for."

Besides, everyone needs a little assurance in their life. Even in ways most wouldn't do, all just to see if the other meant it.

And to see you meant it only gave him the more reason to be obsessed. Or in your words, to love you.

⚘

[onetoomanyyy]

can you do a deep Namida analysis? you can include personal hcs i need her i need h < wants namida lore so bad orz

Namida. Naminami. Master Namida. Mida-Chan. The Girl From Planet Namik.

I’m much more of a headcanons guy than an analysis guy, so this will probably be more “headcanons slightly based on analysis” than the other way around, sorry 😵‍💫 (however, a little while ago fishhjuice did a compiling of all the canon namida facts)

Namida likes to present herself as the most orderly and put-together member of Squid Squad, but in actuality she’s probably the strangest one. She can be quiet around strangers, but once you get her talking you’ll never get her to stop. She knows all sorts of seemingly useless facts that somehow always manage to come in handy. She has insane spice tolerance and usually finds herself adding copious amounts of hot sauce to foods she thinks are too mellow. She likes photography and art, sometimes doodling her friends in her free time. Her lack of a complete eyemask is a mutation that she used to touch up with makeup, but later abandoned it after it started to become integral to her image. She’s willing to sing but is a bit embarrassed to, as she isn’t sure her singing voice is all that good.

Namida grew up fairly wealthy and her parents fostered her love for music at a young age, sending her to a music school where she learned piano and picked up some jazz theory. Later, she began to grow bored with the prim and proper lifestyle, and was the first member to join Squid Squad after becoming fast friends with Ichiya.

Namida is the emotional core of Squid Squad. Shes the best at talking to people and has a way with words that make it impossible to stay mad at her (even if she just did something that definitely warrants it). She’s also the most affectionate member and is responsible for the most group hugs.

Out of all her bandmates, Namida is closest with Ichiya. She was the first person he met after moving to Inkopolis, and he was pretty much the first really close friend she ever had. However, this closeness meant that during the final weeks of Sqdsqd’s lifespan, she tended to brush off how much of an ass Ichiya was being out of fear of damaging the band further. This did not turn out to be the right decision and she went on to feel a little guilty about it, wishing she could have done more. She puts up with a lot of his shit, but is willing to give him another chance come Front Roe. She’s a little worried about it all, but she has hope that it will work out. (go read my fic for more on that 😋😋😋) (shameless plug)

Namida and Murasaki are partners in crime, two chaotic-good bundles of energy. They’re pretty much the only duo who never had any ill will towards one another. The majority of Namida’s nicknames were coined by Murasaki. They lost contact with each other after the breakup but happily reunited later down the line. In Front Roe, Nami wishes that Murasaki wouldn’t be so dismissive of Ichiya nowadays, because that definitely isn’t going to fix anything. Wow, finally a pair that isn’t that complicated!

Namida always respected Ikkan for his musical prowess and considered him the funniest (even though he cracked jokes the least often). They would end up sharing the quietest moments together, making easy small talk and sometimes exchanging personal musings they wouldn’t share with the others. However, even Namida had concerns that some of his criticisms of the band were a bit too harsh, but they were all in good faith, right? So it wasn’t a big deal, right? She misses having someone to talk to where she didn’t feel a need to be the bigger person.

that’s all I’ve got for Namida! I really don’t draw her enough for how fun she is to draw. Thanks for the ask!!

[soulsilvers]

ult kantrio headcanon masterpost

⬇ here i will be compiling as much as possible of my very specific hcs about my favourite play dolls from pokemon that ive rambled about everywhere else, usually at 3 in the morning. and will be updating this post whenever i will. this is still just a small percentage of everything going on in my head lmao. ⬇

does not include futureverse, give it time in the oven.

RED 💖

mute boy born to a family of jolly, talkative and enthusiastic fishers. they make this their entire personality and reds house is very fishing themed. hes... absolutely not as enthusiastic as a kid and sick of the smell of fish, but enjoys it as an adult.

his pikachus a much bigger beast than most pikas in comparison. Supreme Champion.

during G1 he is very polite and well mannered in contrast to green and leaf. his room is tidy and he goes to bed early. though he defends all dumb rowdy shit leaf pulls anyway. this is reflected in his pkmn being more of the gentle giant sort.

he has learned a lot of cooking + baking skills from his mom and the smell of his outdoor cooking can instantly summon leaf and green (reluctantly) to him during G1. he is a huge sweet tooth as well and prefers tea over coffee.

only looks retired as an adult; often sleepy and napping and walking everywhere in crocs. boring as hell but hey its endearing when red does it. but he is very much in peak physical strength and still quickly sweeping other trainers' teams. despite his usual serene demeanor he can still go for the most rash decision and just go apeshit w his pokemon.

TERMINALLY OFFLINE. no way is he going to understand what "ratioing team rocket epic style big W" is going to mean. types bluntly, like your dad. last tweet from him was six years ago, a 240p quality video about encountering an ursaring in a hut in the middle of the woods.

his usual pokeball throw resembles a baseball pitch.

exactly just as geeky as he is athletic. he enjoys the battle tree, but he still wishes for more. his dormant interest in wildlife biology and conservation that he had as a child is soon reignited and hes gonna get that PhD.

enjoys haunted locations too much. even leaf is confused by this! he decides to buy the shittiest abandoned house. which is also haunted. but reds eyes sparkle as always, man is FLEXING and determined to renovate this thing while green is frantically experiencing literally every emotion at once from jumpscares to "huh red knowing how to renovate is kinda ehehehe" then again pacing around sobbing over what were they thinking buying this house.

GREEN 💚

his and daisy's mother was a musician with a similar personality to him. his father, prof. oak's son, was more like daisy and a humble gardener w grass pkmn by his side. neither were too interested in battling or going on adventures.

he is extremely multifaceted when it comes to styles and music tastes, for example. somehow this man can combine prep, jock, geek, stoner and punk rock to his style all at once. his music taste is ALL.

nowadays his eevee is sporting the same hairstyle as him.

millennial still trying to make his podcast a big thing. his poke-twitter is fairly professional. relatively offline, not hip enough for zoomer trainers.

a francoboo. had his boy crazy era in kalos and thus more experienced than red when it comes to relationships. some of his french ex bfs still chase after him but shit bricks every time red answers the door instead.

at least he got them to take good fancy pictures of him in kalos. and he cooks kalosian recipes quite well, spoiling red with those nicely decorated crepes. but likely he experienced some paris syndome too. when you realize lumiose city kinda often smells like piss...

not very artistic. he draws like a 5 year old.

bad at figuring out what lesbians like. he buys leaf ellen degeneres merchandise :(

hes just kind of. eternally stuck in 90s slang and still having his default insults be so hilariously lame they wouldnt sting anyone. like buttcheek.

this is a more recent thing about my design for him but his left eyelid is perpetually droopier than the other.

LEAF 💙

showed up inexplicably in pallet town one day and simply asserted herself. no further elaboration. her origins remain a mystery. she biked all the way inside oak's lab and kept biking.

diversity win! in this universe leaf is closer to being an "ash counterpart" than red is.

since shes always seeking new thrills, she lives in a van as an adult. it looks pretty amazing and cozy from the inside and plenty of room to cook! on the outside theres like. airbrushed venusaurs and wizards and venusaur wizards of all sort.

a big ball of positive meatheadness to the point where shell def blow up a lot of things thinking everythings gonna be just fine. some people want her dead for this.

absolutely will put anything in her mouth and sometimes this is terrifying. tries to always make her cooking look like something "fun" and colorful that kids would enjoy but usually fucks up the look.

on-off relationships with women, she makes a new rival with lgbt undertones every two months. popular gal like that. dont ask her for relationship advice.

quite online and very charming. types like cher on social media. still, she remains popular and loved amongst the youth.

had a geocities in 2004 where she documented her adventures (bc i want G1 to be as 2004 as possible like that). it was an eyesore to look at.

often forms a trio with may and kris and they go on roadtrips eeeeverywhere. they either love her one day or think of her as a dumpster fire personified the next day.

[a-boca-do-inferno]

you already did, part 1 (vincent mancini x reader)

part 2

summary: This is the point of no return, they both know it; it’s only a matter of who’s gonna let go first, now.

warnings: angst, swearing

words: 2.0k

notes: no one will read this part 2 lol this is just me trying to focus on anything other than my anxiety. i also like angry men have you noticed? enjoy xx

“Leave the business”, Vincent repeats after her somewhat incredulously, raising a brow. His hands rest on his knees casually, and his face is contorted in confusion and even mockery, yet his voice is dead serious. “This is what our lives are. I’m part of something so much bigger than myself, babe. I can’t just turn my back on that. It’s my destiny, the thing I’m meant to do, and there’s way too much money in this for me to stop now”, he then sighs heavily, giving his wife a resigned stare. “But if it’ll make you happy, I’ll make sure never to put business ahead of you again. I’ll always put you first, and I’ll always be right here by your side. I promise.” 

“But you’re not happy doing this, Vincent”, (y/n) breathes out, shaking her head slowly. “I know you want to prove yourself, but you already did. Now you’re just...” She looks up, trying to find the words. “Now you’re just slipping away. I can feel it.” 

“(y/n)...” He closes his eyes for a second, keeping his cool. “If I’m not doing this, then what kind of man am I? You’re not wrong, this life has sucked the joy out of me, and sometimes I do feel like I’m losing myself”, he lets out another heavy sigh, furrowing his forehead. “I wish I could be somebody different for you, I really do, but it’s just too late for me, for us. We’ve made our choices and this is what we have. I won’t abandon what I’m meant to be and what I am”, they exchange a hard look, full of sorrow and frustration, as they often did nowadays. Vincent concludes, his voice a little quieter, “and if you’re willing to stand by me, I’ll be lucky to have you in my corner.”  

Goddammit, she hated it. They have talked about this so many times, and Vinnie always says the same thing, as if she had some sort of amnesia every time they’d argue because of the mob. However, the past few weeks had just been too tense, and he’s been only more and more distant from her, not even caring to talk things out, ever making promises and not making any effort in his attitudes. Before Vincent became Don, he would at least try and sort stuff out, try to change his behaviour if only but a little. It’s almost as if the title of Godfather went up his head, and she can’t stand by it anymore.  

(y/n) frowns, but still tries to contain her annoyance. “I don’t want you to be different, baby, I want you to be happy. And I know that’s not happening while you’re in the mafia.” 

“This is the life I chose. This is the life I signed up for when I followed my father’s steps and if I have to suffer, then I’ll make that sacrifice”, his tone is final, but there is almost regret in his dark orbs. “So, what’s it gonna be? Are you walking away from this?” Vincent finally asks, and she feels her whole body shiver with his cold voice. This is the point of no return, they both know it; it’s only a matter of who’s gonna let go first, now. “Are you walking away from me?” 

The television behind him showed a silent butter commercial, and the leftovers of dinner stared back at her, waiting for her answer like the audience in a baseball game. (y/n) gripped the newspaper loosely hanging to her side and read the headline, not really interested in what it was about. The girl had no idea of what she wanted right now from Vincent, but it sure as hell wasn’t the attitude he was displaying. And his phrasing was obviously constructed to somehow blame her later on, so he could throw it in her face that she was the one to give up on their marriage, to destroy their life together, to be weak. 

She wouldn’t stand by it. 

(y/n) huffs, slamming her fist on the dinner table and getting his attention immediately. “Why do you even wanna follow his steps? He was killed by this!” She exclaims infuriated, getting up from her seat and crossing her arms. “He couldn’t raise you because of all this bullshit, I don’t understand you.”  

“This is my heritage. I’m a Corleone and that’s what we do”, he mutters, clearly holding back from shouting at her. “What else can I be, (y/n)?” Vinnie then shrugs, trying to sound unaffected by her words. 

“You’re not even a goddamn Corleone, you’re a bastard!” She yells at the top of her lungs, her face red with anger now, but as soon as the words leave her mouth, she looks regretful. “Vincent, I’m sorry. Just please, listen to me...” 

Vincent’s expression darkened completely. He is hurt, she knows it. He stands up and walks over to her, with his eyes full of shock, anguish and hurt, all mixed into one. “I’m not a Corleone? I wasn’t born into this family?”, he stammers through gritted teeth. “The hell is wrong with you, eh? You got no idea what’s like to be in my shoes! You got no right to judge me”, his tone is dangerous and he grips her arm tightly, glaring at her. 

(y/n) winces at his hard touch. “What would you mother say if she saw you now, Vincent?” She sobs, trying to get away from his hand. “If she saw what you became, what you’re doing to yourself and to your real family?” 

He stops for a moment, taken aback by her words, and somehow, he growls even angrier. “How dare you... My mother loved this family, she loved me. She’s alive in my heart and I know she would be proud of the man I’ve become, what I’ve accomplished!” His voice cracks, yet he doesn’t let a single tear fall. “She always believed in me. Who are you to speak ill of her memory?! Of me?” 

(y/n) throws her hands up, losing her temper. “Well, then I guess it’s on me”, she sighs shakily, getting off his grip and turning her back on him. “Maybe I’m the crazy one, maybe I’m in the wrong for wanting to get out of this shithole full of death and despair!” She shouts again, going to bang on the door so everyone in the house will listen. “Guess it’s all on me, guys!” 

Silence follows her outburst before it all turns into madness. His family and even the servants come to see what’s going on, asking for (y/n) to calm down as she keeps yelling at them. She stands in the centre of it all, challenging them to say something back, and no one does. After a few minutes of arguing, every face points at Vincent and watches him with their eyes wide, urging him to do something. Vinnie then turns to his wife, and his expression is one of resignation and fear. He seems terrified of what can happen if (y/n) keeps this up. 

He tries to approach her, speaking softly, “(y/n), please...” 

“What, am I gonna be mob lynched?”, the girl laughs humourlessly, gazing around at everybody. “Fuck all of this, you can all go to hell.” There is a moment of pause and shock for her words, and she takes off her wedding band and throws it at Vincent. “I want a divorce. I’m done.” 

The room goes quiet in an instant as Vincent catches the ring with his hand by surprise, almost letting it fall on the floor. His voice is filled with rage, “this is our life! This is what we are, and you’re leaving me for what?!”. He walks up to her, seething, his new-yorker accent only getting meaner and louder. “What’s wrong with you?”, he takes her arm again, squeezing it forcefully. “I’m trying to do the honourable thing here, what the hell’s wrong with you?” 

“The honourable thing? You don’t have time to do anything except making drug deals and murdering people”, she hisses, pushing his chest to get out of his grip again. “You say you love me and will do anything for me, but you’d rather stay here with these people when they never even fucking let you in their house, even though you’re the same blood!” She doesn’t cry anymore, sounding firm like never before. “They all see you as an intruder and you know it, Vincent.” She glances at Michael, who’s quietly watching her fit with a neutral expression. “He was the one who dragged you into this because he just wanted to get out, he lost everything because of this too. His own daughter.” 

Vincent’s eyes narrow and he takes a deep breath. Although his interior is boiling with wrath, he takes a step back to calm himself, shaking his head. He states sternly, with menace to his tone, “you can leave if you want, that’s your right. We can take care of the divorce and you can go wherever you want. I won’t stop ya.” He pauses for a second, glowering at her, “but you can’t take anything with you. I’ll get the house, the cars and all the money. You leave with nothing. It’s your choice.” 

Her eyelid twitches in anger and surprise. “You... you can shove it all up your ass!”, she blurts out and holds her palm up to hit him. 

Vincent grabs her arm swiftly. “(y/n)!” He screams, holding her by the shoulders harshly. His face’s entirely clouded by fury, and his family watches in fear as he seems to be losing control of his actions. “Don’t you ever raise a hand to me.” 

“Or what?” (y/n) yells back, glaring at him with wide, teary eyes. 

He is trembling with rage, but gives her a disbelieved look. “You dare me to hit you, you think this is a game?!” He pulls her forearm violently. “I’m gonna make your life a living hell. I’m gonna make you regret every choice you ever make. I’m gonna destroy you, (y/n). I will ruin your life, your reputation, your sanity, everything”, he spits out ruthlessly, looking her dead in the eye, and his heavy breath is hot against her lips. 

(y/n) had only ever heard about that side of Vincent. She knew how cruel he could be, how evil, but she never thought one day that danger would be directed towards her. She sobbed, so close to his face no one else could listen but him, “you already did.” 

Another pause hovers over them and shortly after, everyone scatters and leaves the room. (y/n) cries silently still under Vincent’s grip, unable to speak anymore. He is holding her tenderly now, and his anger starts to die down at the sight of her despair. He lets go of her, sighing. “I love you more than anything. More than my life”, he mumbles helplessly, in a last attempt to make her stay.  

She replies seriously, getting away from his hold and wiping her tears, “I love you too, Vincent, but you’re just not the man I once loved anymore.” 

Vinnie takes a step back, his face growing sorrowful, and his eyes glisten. “How did we come to this point, of hating each other?” He whispers to himself, facing down with his hands resting on his waist.  

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t see you”, she confesses, her collected tone catching him off guard. “And I can’t be with someone I can’t see.” 

(y/n) leaves the house without another word, and Vincent is left with her wedding band between his knuckles. He wants to scream, break something, kill someone, but stands paralyzed in the middle of the living room, simply hanging his head and letting his tears fall freely at last. He’s never felt so lost in his life. With a silent sob, he throws the ring on the wall, storming off to his office and slamming the door behind him. He knew, in his black heart of hearts he knew; this was the point of no return. And he was the one who drove them to it.  

[thebindingofpillo]

Lilith

Some of you are about to get real mad at me.

While Lilith is traditionally considered Adam’s first wife, that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, her status as mother of all demons is also false because Lilith is not a demon at all, she’s a monster. Or at least she was, before making a deal with Satan, we will explain everything in due time. I wanted to make a separate post about the differences between demons and monsters, but there’s not much to say about them, so I’ll condense everything here.

Monster = mortal, weaker than demons (but still stronger than a human though), their magic is more specialised and requires physical things like blood ad flesh (usually human blood and flesh) to work. Unlike demons, who are naturally evil, monsters can be more morally grey, and while there’s a lot of them who eat and kill humans for whatever reason, friendly monsters do exist.They are born, not created, and are native to Earth. Monsters were incredibly common on Earth in the ancient times, but were progressively driven out of their habitats by humans, which brought most of them to extinction. Nowadays monsters are very few, tend to stick to their own communities or blend into human society and fly under the radar. This is what Lilith does, she’s a preschool teacher and lives a quiet life with her Incubus. Demon = immortal, have access to more magical powers (and brimstone!) and are born in hell, which is on a different plane of existence. They can still visit Earth, but it takes time and energy. And also they’re all evil. Sorry.

Lilith is a Hebrew word, that might derive from the Akkadian Lilitu, which might derive from the Sumerian Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke (or just lil). All of these words describe a type of female monster that lives at night and preys on men (If you’re a nerd like me, here’s the handy video that started this whole thing lmao). The noun (yes, noun) “lilith” is used exactly once in the Bible (Isaiah 34:14) and is translated as “lamia” in the Greek version of Symmachus (dated around 200 c.e.) and the Latin Vulgata, which is another type of female monster that feeds on children and kills men after seducing them. Everything fits. King James’ bible translates lilith as “screeching owl” so I decided to co-opt that for her design, and give her some feathers.

And now for the actual lore, the preamble is done I swear.

Note: I’m gonna use “lamia” when talking about the creature, and “Lilith” when talking about the character What are lamias (in my AU) Lamias are a type of female monster whose powers revolve around illusions and transformation. Their normal state is usually of half-bird women with pronounced snake features (like Lilith in her normal form), but they can turn into full snake ladies if they need to (usually to protect their territory, or fight off other lamias). Doing so requires a lot of energy, and is a difficult form to maintain, even for the oldest, most powerful ones. Lamias can also turn into beautiful women to better attract men, their main source of food. They are also known to feed on human children, who are usually kidnapped from their homes and eaten whole. Lamias can feed on women and cattle too, but this is quite uncommon and usually only done in dire situations, like after a war. They are all females. Male lamias do not exist. This is another reason why they need men: they cannot reproduce by themselves.

Lamias usually live in family groups, composed by a matriarch and her (often many) daughters and her granddaughters. Once the matriarch dies, the eldest daughter takes her place, and so on and so forth. These groups can get quite large! So much so that sometimes, the oldest daughters might leave their mother to create their own pack somewhere else (usually due to lack of food and resources).While lamias prefer forest terrain and hotter climates, any place with a lot of hiding spots and a decent dry season is enough for them. It’s not uncommon to find them chilling amongst abandoned buildings, or in the mountains, in caves etc. they’re very adaptable, and while their wings might seem small, they’re still able to travel long distances to find a perfect place for them. Note: their wings are usually only accessible in full snake form.

Lamia culture is usually passed down orally from mother to daughter. They worship the Earth as the First Mother, from which every creature came, and to which every creature will return after death. Their rituals usually revolve around fertility, love, abundance of preys etc. I still don’t know if they believe in the afterlife, but they probably believe that once dead, they return to the womb of the First Mother, where they can rest in eternal bliss and be loved forever. With deforestation, poaching and human being less afraid of monsters in general, lamia population has greatly decreased, and with them being mortal, there could be a very concrete possibility that Lilith is the last lamia alive.

Lilith time for real this time Lilith is a sweetheart. A big softie and a hopeless romantic, perfectly content in her quiet life of preschool teacher. She likes cheesy romcoms, long walks and hot chocolate, but it wasn’t always that way for her. Born a little after the birth of the Roman Empire (around… 40/45 AD, she’s the youngest of the immortals), Lilith used to live in a secluded forest with her mother and sisters (and her daughters too, even if she didn’t have that many yet), occasionally luring men in, eating human flesh and generally having a good time. Think… Libia. Around there. I don’t know. Somewhere with both trees and Roman occupation, I’m not gonna pour more hours into this character PLEASE I’m doing all of this for free. Anyway, life was good for her and her family, until one day Cain passed through that forest, looking for a new place to live after he was exiled for the umpteenth time. Lilith immediately noticed the man and tried to entice him, but Cain (who had at least a couple of millennia more of experience) was not having it. He just wanted to leave the forest behind and find a new home, he didn’t have time to entertain a lamia, so he booked it out of there as soon as he could. Unfortunately, Lilith took that as a challenge and started chasing after him, hoping to tire him out enough to pounce him and put an end to his existence. The chase lasted two whole weeks by the way, but at that point Lilith was too stubborn to let it go. Cain was smart enough to always stop in densely populated areas as to lose his scent and get some extra protection (lamias and monster in general were already close to extinction at the time, and usually steered clear of human cities) but even with the best precautions, Lilith managed to corner him and finally get to him, but she was also exhausted after two weeks of constant chase, and could only knock him down and give him a couple of nasty bites. Cain still has the scars to this day. Sadly, Lilith was not aware of the other, worse part of Cain’s curse, so when she hurt him, her destiny took a turn for the worst. The man managed to wiggle free of her grasp, and while Lilith would have gladly chased after him some more, she realised she had been away from home for way too long, so turned back, only to find her beloved forest and family gone forever. In the weeks she was away, a Roman troop had levelled the forest, cutting down all the trees, killing her mother and sisters and selling her youngest daughters into slavery. She was desperate, and vowed to take revenge on the whole humankind, and that’s when things got even worse! Hearing her cries and pleads for revenge, Satan himself, king of hell, decided to pay her a visit. He offered her eternal life, a chance at taking back what was hers, and in return she would become his, in body and soul, and help him grow his army even further (which is a very fancy way of saying Lilith would become his wife, give him children, and he could also do whatever he wanted to her). Now, Lilith would have never accepted such a rotten deal, but she was incredibly desperate and in a very vulnerable position, and Satan knew that. He played her and used her trauma as an excuse to grow closer to her, promising her he would help her take revenge on the people who wronged her, and would even help her save some of her family, if there was anything to be saved.

Anyway, Lilith accepted the deal, and thus became immortal. Her new home was in Hell, ruling at Satan’s side… only he didn’t really want her ruling anything at all. He was a terrible husband, let me tell you. Once he secured the deal, Lilith was just another unfortunate soul to exploit, so he relegated her somewhere in Hell, and only came to visit once in a while, to check in on her and maybe send her on some errands. Pretty soon, Lilith became restless, and started pushing for her husband to hold up his end of the deal, only Satan wasn’t really planning to. In a fit of rage, he gouged out her eyes, and left her helpless and without sight. Luckily Lilith was immortal now, and losing her eyes didn’t kill her. She could even put them back in again, if Satan let her, but he usually kept her eyes hidden on him all the time, in a little satchel around his neck, only letting her have her sight back if he needed Lilith to run some errands for him. Satan kept her blind to control her better. After enough time, Lilith decided that a life of servitude to a man she didn’t even love wasn’t cutting it, so she walked out of Hell. She was strong, she could handle being blind, and even managed to snatch one of Satan’s little minions on the way out, her trusted Incubus. It was a meagre victory, but at least now she was free, and the Incubus useful enough. Sadly, there wasn’t much she could do about her revenge now. The Roman Empire had fallen while she was in hell, and the men who killed her family were already long dead and forgotten. She managed to meet Cain again after a while, in a different place, as different people, and the two actually became friends. This friendship would only grow stronger over the centuries, Lilith being one of the very few people Cain could be fully open, and while Cain could be considered the source of Lilith’s misery, she was quite understanding of the nature of his curse, and while it took some time, she came to understand that it wasn’t his fault.

Where is Lilith now. As said before, Lilith is now enjoying a quiet life. She works as a preschool teacher (children have always been her passion). She lives in the same city as the majority of the rest of the cast (her and Maggy are coworkers too!) and maintains a close friendship with Cain. Her magic has greatly diminished over the millennia because she firmly refuses to consume human flesh. She doesn’t really see the point in it anymore, since her whole family is gone and monsters are incredibly few. What little of her magic remains, she uses to keep a human form during the day, so she can work and run errands without much trouble. She could theoretically return to her full powers (and even transform fully into a lamia) with some generous blood donations, but it’s not really something she has any desire to do. Over the years she’s ha many relationships, some even quite serious, but tried her best not to have children. She doesn’t know if her immortality would be transferred to her daughters and doesn’t want to run the risk of seeing her children die. Incubus is still with her after all these years, and while she can’t exactly take him out like a normal pet, he can still follow her everywhere by hiding in her poofy hair. He loves it.

Other stuff that I couldn’t fit anywhere else

Lilith is not her real name! That’s just another name for her species, like calling someone “human”. Her real name is unpronounceable by a human mouth, and with lamias being basically extinct, she’s made her peace with the fact nobody will ever call her that again. While “Lilith” is not an ideal name (she prefers going by “Lily”) it’s still okay.

Can sustain herself with human food too! Just prefers her meat extra rare. This is how she maintains that little magic she needs to turn human.

Incubus is sentient, but to a lesser degree. He’s like a very intelligent animal (his ref is coming eventually I didn’t have time for it UGH)

I hope you enjoy her! I did not proofread anything of this, just take it.

[letsatomicbanana]

Neurodivergent Ink hc’s? Ok!

Full-body stimming, gets up and runs/paces around a room when excited, jumps up and down/shakes himself to get energy out.

Speech pattern mimicking/fluctuating voice, the people he’s around and media he consumes can alter how he sounds at a given time and the contrast is jarring as hell

Hand-flappy stims with limp wrists, usually a sign of extreme excitement or severe stress

Ink doesn’t need to eat, as we know, but he likes to and while he is pretty chill with anything when it comes to art supplies, with normal people food he is such a picky eater. Like he is not gonna touch a salad, he’d rather die.

Mimicking as a stim and/or echolalia. Thing make cool/interesting/funny noise? He makes it too. And sometimes it just happens automatically. He hates having to explain that he’s not mocking people.

My dude’s rsd is off the charts a lot of the time, he is afraid of most slight indicators he’s not liked.

When he was younger (hell, even nowadays) he used to line up his toys specifically in rainbow order.

No words can describe his excitement when he saw Error expressing autistic traits, he literally shouted “Hey! Just like me!”.

Ink hyperfixates/gets special interests on other pieces of media us real people know and love.

He subconsciously personifies colors and other concepts/objects! Mainly colors, though.

Nightmare was actually the first one to point out that Ink’s traits were probably a byproduct of neurodivergence. No one else noticed given how differently he presents from others, but NM is pretty well-read on the subject. Idk why I necessarily have this hc, I just think it makes sense for those two to have a history for some odd reason.

Ink often needs to bite things to stim, it was a problem before the other stars got him some chewlery.

When overstimulated Ink will often “puddle” in a similar way that Nightmare is often depicted to, letting his body heavily liquify into ink and just kinda sitting there slouched with only his upper half visible while he calms down.

I hope those sufficed!

Oh boy big post. ( and messy)/Pos

AUGHHHHHH!!!!!!!! I LOVE ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!

I LOVE the concept of someone pointing ink's traits and stuff!! I'm very found in stories like that, where someone is seen as 'weird' and 'quiky' but someone actually realizes that *maybe* something's happening (I have this silly lil headcanon that Ink's fathers suspects something).

Adore the stimming part!!! (Love how you also used "extreme extress"! Stims aren't just for happy feelings you all). For me at least, ink's the stim king (change my mind), he would totally repeat sounds and voices he hears across the multiverse for that *Nice feeling*!

|I've always imagined Ink having RSD too!!! Combined that with his abandonment issues and you have a disaster in person.|

Ink being happy about other people sharing the traits that he says is such a good flavor (oh boy), he would feel "I'm not the weird one!" bc i often feel that Ink would feel very out of touch with NT people given how different he is in general, so when someone does something *he does* he's like "you're just like me fr!"

Ink is a mess in overatimulated tbh (he even vomits). Headcanon that he locks himself in the doodlesphere to calm down (It's his personal multiverse after all!)

| Just asking, but the "Ink personafies objects" actually canon? I mean, look at his paintbrush for example! He even canonically talk with it (pretty sure Broomie is not alive or anything like some say). Comyet even says he hugs it like a kitten! |

[transk0vsky]

Do you have any headcanons for Eva and/or Capella? They're some of my favorite of the bound so I would love to hear your thoughts

I’m gonna go with Eva for this since I’ll be honest here i don’t really think about any of the terminates (besides my amazing daughter grace) that often? Anyhow moving on

Starting off with the typical one at this point Eva has bpd! She just reads to me as having it

she tried to wear heels once in her youth tripped and broke her nose after that she’s sworn enemies with heels! You will not catch her dead in heels! Nor will you probably catch her in any kind of shoe actually.

I think the reason aging seems to trouble stems from a fear of being abandon she’s scared that once she loses all her beauty that she’ll won’t be interesting to anyone any longer and they’ll all leave her behind for someone younger and more intriguing.

I also think she was thinking of suicide long long before the events of the game occurred but maybe in more of an ideation way then an active risk to herself. She’s struggling long before the events of the game long before the bachelor ever steps foot in the Stillwater it’s just either nobody noticed or nobody really cared to help.

She had two siblings both sisters, Eva was the middle child

She doesn’t talk much to her family nowadays they didn’t exactly treat her the best when they were in contact and after moving to the town they never put in the same effort she did to keep up the line of communication so one day she just gave up….

In her teens she cut her own bangs and it looked very bad….but she looks back on it with glee Eva doesn’t care if it looked god awful! At least she had fun with it!

She offered to cut both Yulia and Andrey’s hair on Separate Occasions only one of them took her offer and the one that did ended up having to wear a hat for a few months afterwards (I’ll let you decide which)

Eva has a few burn scars on her fingers and hands very small ones but they are there, she got them after accidentally burning herself while cooking…she doesn’t learn from these mistakes it continues to happen.

On that note very clumsy! If you toss something to her there’s a 85% chance she will fail to catch it and if she does catch it she will drop it immediately afterwards (this is based off myself) she also trips over her own feet often especially going up the stairs. She’s going through it.

She knows how to sew! It’s a hobby she picked up during her youth and she still really enjoys doing it from time to time nowadays. However she loses interest in her projects easily and tends to hop from project to project she hasn’t finished any of them in years

In a modern day setting I think Eva would find lava lamps cool and or plasma balls! She’d have one or two in the Stillwater for sure lol. Also those tacky bead curtains you know the ones….fuck maybe she’d also have a waterbed? Hmmm much to think about

She probably has a tattoo or two maybe on her back or ankle? They’d be very small ones though! The artwork for them was probably done by Peter (wouldn’t trust him to like actually do a tattoo however…it might get infected.)

Her favorite animal is a swan don’t have a particular reason for that one just feel like it’d be fitting!

[aita-blorbos]

( canon character, but with my own personal take on said character's lore!! :D )

AITA for getting upset over a book and ending a hang out session early?

Hello. I am still rather new to social media, but one of my roommates has encouraged me to take this matter here so I may get unbiased opinions on it. For the record, I am genderless and present as such, so refer to me however you'd like. I am also technically thousands of years old, but physically I am only in my 40's or so.

Also, I have the feeling this post will be long, so my sincerest apologies in advance for that, but I believe the exposition is important for context.

This starts long, long ago. I was a knight back in my heyday, and a highly revered one at that. The people I was sworn to protect respected me greatly. I was involved in numerous battles, of which I prevailed in all of them. Of course, these fights were more for show than true battles.

And then, a horrible war broke out. Back then, the worlds of technology and magic were not as intertwined as they seem to be nowadays. A few rouge scientists stole trade secrets from the magicians, causing said war. I was firmly on the magicians' side, as they were my people. I simply couldn't abandon them in a time of need.

I fought countless battles, my men and I claiming victory in each one. I was regarded as a hero by the magicians.

Or, so I thought. One day, during yet another fight, I was sealed away in a crystal by some of my comrades. Looking back, I'm sure they were traitors.

I was stuck in that crystal for eons. The war was never resolved, from what I can gather. Most participants were simply... gone. As if they had never existed. The only time I was let out of the crystal, I was made to battle once more, this time with a knight of the current generation, MK. (Male, no idea how old he is. Around my physical age, I'd say? A little younger?)

MK won the battle, and I found myself in the vast darkness of space. Thankfully, I was rescued by one of my current roommates, M.(much like I, they have no preference in how they are referred to. 19 and a half. they made me specify.) M assisted me in getting to their home planet to heal, thank the stars, and I've since then made the planet my personal home.

Fast forward to now. I've made a few friends. M, as previously mentioned, is one of them, as well as a witch, G.(Non-binary, 32.) Both have since become my roommates. It's a long story. I've also properly made amends with MK. While we are not friends, we do occasionally hang out with one another.

One of these hang out sessions was at a local library. MK and I are both fans of literature, and we often accompany one another when we take trips to the library. That day's book selection from MK included a history book, specifically pertaining to stories about my time. I was admittedly a bit confused, as I was sitting right there, but I didn't see an issue with it as MK isn't one for conversation, at least with me.

Eventually, I let my curiosity get the better of me, and asked MK if I could see the book for a bit. He obliged, and I got to reading. And let me tell you, those stories made me out to be some kind of brute. The "greatest warrior in the galaxy" part was true, yes, but the rest of it was a complete fabrication! They made me sound like some kind of cold-blooded killer or something! It made it look as if the war had been one-sided. It was annoying, to put it lightly.

When I vented about this to MK, he stated that sometimes, history is simply wrong, and it is up to us to correct it. Of course, I agree with the sentiment, but this frustrated me more, so I left early. When I later brought it up to M and G, they had the same mindset.

I have since apologized to MK for my behavior during our day out. He has accepted my apology, but I still feel a bit bad for getting upset with him for something that is not even his fault.

So, am I the asshole here?

[dramatic-squirrel]

Daminette December Day 14- Bind/Toxic

@maribat-calendar-events

It was a strange experience for Marinette, walking around in disguise. Usually when she wore a disguise she swung between buildings and beat up villains. But nowadays, she found herself in the awkward and invasive view of the public eye. Dating a Wayne tended to do that to a person, especially while living in Gotham and especially when that Wayne was Damian. It was kind of embarrassing how often Damian appeared in the news, sometimes it was good news– an appearance at a gala, working out a shelter— usually it was bad. Like setting all of the animals at the circus free, or any outing with the rest of his family.

All of which meant that the press talked about him, and subsequently that meant they talked about who he was dating, aka Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Usually, it wasn’t so bad, most people mind their own business in Gotham, but occasionally she’d been photographed by the occasional tabloid, which led to her habit of wearing hats and sunglasses in public.

That’s what she was wearing when someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her into an alley. She reacted quickly. Dropping slightly, she slid one foot behind the kidnapper, grabbed his legs and pulled up, using the side of her hip as a pivot to drop him to the ground. 

“She’s got strength for the tiny bug that she is. Hahahah! I crack myself up.” A bit further down the alleyway, the last person anyone wanted to encounter in Gotham appeared. The iconic purple suit, green hair and white face.

“Putain de merde!” Before Marinette could even try to run, a figure blocked the entrance to the alleyway. It didn’t stop her though, as she rushed towards the henchman and threw a punch to the face. The guy went to block it, obscuring his line of sight, so she kneed him in the abdomen causing the man to bend over in pain. Taking advantage, she sidestepped, elbowed him in the back and attempted to escape. It still wasn’t enough though, as there were too many henchmen with the joker and before Marinette could escape, she was grabbed from behind again, this time a needle was stuck in her neck. Soon, her strength abandoned, her vision blurred and then darkness greeted her.

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

Light burned Marinette’s eyes as she woke up, causing her to squint and causing a headache that pounded her skull with reckless abandon. She really needed to get black out curtains for her room. But something didn’t feel right, there was a weird crimp in her neck, and for some reason, her shoulders were unusually stiff. She tried to move and when she couldn’t, she panicked. Jerking, her last memories came back to her and she struggled even more. All that she discovered was that her hands were tightly bound behind her and that she was alone in the room. 

At least, Marinette was alone in the room until a door opened somewhere behind the blinding light, accompanied by maniacal laughter. “Glad to see sleeping beauty awake! Are you ready for your close up, princess?”

“Salopard! Why did you kidnap me?” If it was anyone else, they would have been terrified but Marinette was past caring and wanted to get the pleasantries of kidnapping out of the way.

“Ah, looks like we’re getting right to it. I just wanted to give a big Gotham welcome to our newest visitor and eventual Wayne– got to let you know what you're in for.” He stepped into view, just to the side of the light. “And since you’ve become such a big celebrity I figured it would be best to let your adoring public see the sunshine princess’ big day.”

“Do not call me ‘princess’ you tête de nœud.” Marinette glowered. “Only one person has the right to call me that.”

“You’re boyfriend?” He laughed again. “I don’t really care, princess.” Marinette just shook her head at his stupidity. She wasn’t going to concern herself when Joker got a late night visit from Chat Noir. She bet even the “clown prince” would run away from the black cat’s puns.

“Let’s get started! Lights! Camera!” Joker looked around the room at things Marinette couldn’t make out. “Action!” He walked over to her side and Marinette cringed away in disgust. “Hello Gothamites! Allow me to introduce my special guest here with me today. The one, the only, sunshine of Gotham and the Ice Prince’s girlfriend, Marinette!” He placed a hand on her shoulder and actively fought to push down her anger. “Why don’t you greet the public, Marinette?”

She didn’t bother responding, knowing that the only thing that would come out was a string of swear words. “Oh well, looks like she’s a bit shy. Let’s get on with the show!” Joker pulled out a needle and syringe. “Don’t worry, it only hurts-” the sound of glass shattering cut him off, he sighed. “Well, well, Batsy and the bird, I didn’t invite you here.”

“Let the girl go, Joker.”

“Sure, sure. Just one thing.” And without pause, he plunged the needle into Marinette’s arm. “There we go.” The effects were immediate, as laughter took over Marinette, a big grin overcoming her face. “Much better.”

“Joker!” Robin charged toward the rogue but pulled up short when the clown held a knife up to Marinette.

"Relax," Joker's maniacal laughter echoing in their ears. "I used the non-lethal version just for her. After all, the tourists'll stop coming if we keep killing them." He used the knife to cut away Marinette’s bonds. “Although you might want to get her to a hospital soon before her face sticks that way.” He put the knife against her throat, close enough that he could do some serious damage quickly, far away enough that her perpetual laughter didn’t bite into the blade. “Now, I’ll walk out of here, then you can take the girl.”

They started backing out of the room, Batman and Robin were watching and waiting. When they were a few feet from the door, Marinette took a chance. Grabbing the knife with her left hand, she pulled it away from herself, cutting her palm. Then twisting around to face Joker, she grabbed his wrist with her right hand. Letting go of the knife, she pulled the Joker’s arm forward and, with her free left hand, she rammed it into his elbow, breaking it. 

The forced laughter almost made her screw up the next part but she did her best to pull herself together as she hooked her right foot behind his left and yanked it, hurling him to the ground. Batman and Robin wasted no time, running up to the two of them. Batman subdued Joker while Robin checked in on her.

“Are you ok, miss?” Robin grabbed her hand. Still laughing, Marinette nodded. She wasn’t ok, per se, but she was alive and away from the fashion freak known as Joker, so that counted for something. “We’ll get you to a hospital soon. Just follow me to an ambulance.”

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

Hours later, Marinette was given an antidote for the Joker venom, had her hand stitched together and had already given her report to the police. The first person she saw after that was Damian who quickly entered her hospital room. “How are you? Are you ok? Did they give you an antidote? Treat your wound? Did they harass you too much?” The questions flowed out one after the other.

Marinette held up her uninjured hand to stop him. “I’m going to need you to slow down a bit Damian.”

He looked away, the slightest bit of contrite adorning his face. “Pardon my abruptness.” 

Marinette accepted his apology. “To answer your questions…. Yes, yes, yes… they stitched my hand, and no not really. The hospital is keeping me overnight to monitor any side-effects.” He nodded his head in approval, before an air of reluctance passed over him

“...I suppose this incident means that you…” he paused, not wanting to continue. After taking a moment to gather his courage he finished his thought. “...I suppose you would like to break up now.”

“No!” Her shout startled both of them. “I mean, yeah it was terrifying, but I’m not going to run away just because of this.”

“You could have died, Angel.”

“Ah, but I didn’t. And I have lady luck on my side Damian. Even if I have to face every Gotham rogue just because I’m dating you, I’m staying.” He was conflicted, happy that she still wanted to date him, concerned that he was putting her in danger. 

He came up with a solution, “I’ll train you in combat then.” 

A small laugh escaped Marinette, and a smile that warmed his heart graced her face. “I’ll take you up on the offer, but I’m not as helpless as you think.”

He gave her a satisfied smirk. “I know. I saw the video of you taking down the Joker. I’d expect nothing less from the woman I fell in love with.” His expression went blank at that, meanwhile Marinette blushed at hearing him say I love you for the first time.

“I love you too, Damian” He looked away, hiding his face with one hand. 

“Never speak of this to anyone.”

Marinette looked at the entrance to the room where Dick, Jason, Stephanie, Alya and Adrien were standing. “I think it’s too late for that.”

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

Quick note, if this story feels familiar then it’s because I was inspired by both this fanfic https://archiveofourown.org/works/22843114 and this tumblr post https://www.tumblr.com/stareyedmoonchild/188615603032/mid-day-thoughts 

[monarchamos]

chuuya has adhd and nobody and convince me otherwise so have some headcanons

he has fidget drip!!!! he fidgets with the chain on his hat and the belt that hangs off his hip. sometimes when he needs to big stim he messes with his overcoat

dog hyperfixation. thats it he just hyperfixates on dogs he can and will be able to name a dog's breed on sight

dazai has totally said "oh no is the executive dysfunctioning?" at least 20 times to him when he barges into his office and hes doing anything other than paperwork (which totally isnt also including his own that he's pushed off onto him)

actually did have a period where he fixated on french and french culture, so once he got over verlaine's whole... incident, and once he found out that the man's just been living in the basement, he visits pretty often and they talk in french and stuff

mouths/sings songs under his breath a lot. only really does it when hes alone or if he's in an area that's already loud enough to drown out his voice to most people

contrary to his hardworking nature he has in fact abandoned all of his work to go down deep dives and rabbit holes into random niche things that happen to catch his interest

its okay he gets his work done still by sheer spite, 10 cups of really sugary coffee, and no sleep. maybe as a treat he'll remember to take his meds

used to be rlly subcounscious abt his adhd so he would hide his stimming but not very well so sometimes random subordinates would just turn a corner and see executive chuuya aggressively flapping his hands and jumping up and down before he has a meeting or a mission so he doesnt end up stimming later when he's supposed to be serious

nowadays hes more comfortable with it tho dw and stims a lot when hes working in the pm headquarters and when hes with friends

a lot of newbies in the mafia thought chuuya was scary as hell but hirotsu just keeps telling them to start talking abt dogs or music or whatever else chuuya's into and they'll see what a chill guy chuuya is

the gloves are absolutely a sensory thing bc he hates the sticky feeling of blood or how pens can rarely be held comfortably for him