#but why did it end like that why were they all left alone

[niilue]

—when you hear vi call caitlyn cupcake, hurt and jealousy remind you that, no matter how much it hurts, you will never be more than a shadow in her life.—

cw: female reader, angst, jealousy, emotional pain, drama, this is short tho…. maybe need a sec. part

part ii

you remain motionless, feeling the heat of anger begin to crawl up your neck, setting every nerve in your body on fire. your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms, and the taste of rage mixes with something uglier, something harder to swallow: jealousy.

you don’t want to feel this way. you shouldn’t feel this way, because you have no right. you and vi are nothing, there are no promises or bonds that allow you to claim any part of her. but the fact that vi still calls her “cupcake” after everything that happened, after how caitlyn left her hurt and alone, makes you sick. because you were the one who was there. you were the one who found vi after that fight, doubled over in pain, trying to hide her vulnerability behind a broken smile.

you remember those nights underground, when vi got drunk to bury the disappointment and threw herself into stupid fights, looking for blows that might distract her from the real pain. it was you who followed her, who made sure she didn’t end up with her head cracked open in a dark alley, who endured her shouts and outbursts when you tried to help her. you took care of her, even when she didn’t want you to, even when you knew she would never thank you for it.

but here you are now, standing like an idiot, watching vi call caitlyn by that nickname, as if none of it mattered, as if everything you did for her was insignificant. you feel something break inside you, something you had been trying so hard to hold together. the fury and sadness swirl in your chest, and for a second, you can’t breathe.

“really?” you spit out the words, your voice full of venom before you can stop yourself. vi turns to you, her blue eyes narrowing in confusion. there’s something in her expression that makes your blood boil even more, as if she can’t understand why you’re so upset. as if the fact that this hurts you is a mystery.

“what?” vi frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as if preparing for a confrontation. you can see how the muscles of her abdomen still tense slightly, a reminder of where caitlyn hit her with the shotgun, and that only fuels your anger.

you step forward, and your words come out fast and full of rage. “cupcake? seriously? after everything that happened?” your voice trembles, and you hate how vulnerable you sound, but you can’t stop. “after she left you lying in the dirt, kicking up dust, because she decided you weren’t worth it? after i was the one who had to pick up your pieces, who tried to keep you from beating yourself to death out of your own damn self-destructiveness?”

vi blinks, clearly taken aback by the intensity of your words. her lips part, and you can see how she hardens, how her eyes become sharp, as if trying to find something to say, some kind of defense. but you don’t give her the chance.

“i was the one who was there,” you continue, and your voice cracks, but you push on. “i was the one who made sure you didn’t bleed out in some alley, who tried to make you feel like you weren’t alone. but of course, that doesn’t matter, right?!” your throat tightens, and you feel tears burning behind your eyes, but you force them to stay where they are. you won’t cry. not here, not now.

vi clenches her jaw, and her eyes flash with something you can’t decipher. “why do you care so much?” she asks, and though her tone is defensive, there’s something else there, something that seems uncertain. as if she can’t understand why all of this affects you so deeply. “why are you acting like… like this is personal?”

the silence that follows is almost deafening. your heart beats so hard that it feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest, and for a second, you can’t find the words. because you don’t have an answer you can give her without revealing everything you’ve been trying to deny.

“because…” you try, and your voice breaks again. you can’t tell her that you’ve started to feel something for her, something that scares you and hurts you and fills you with hope all at once. you can’t tell her that just seeing her smile at caitlyn, hearing her use that damned nickname, makes you feel like nothing more than a shadow in her life, someone who will always come second.

“because we’re nothing,” you finally say, and each word is a dagger in your chest. “and we might never be anything, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” your voice is a whisper full of bitterness, and your shoulders slump slightly, as if the weight of your own emotions is too much to bear.

vi watches you, and you can see how her expression changes. there’s something in her eyes, a mix of guilt and something you can’t quite identify, but you don’t say anything else. you take a step back, shaking your head, trying to push away the storm of feelings that threatens to break you.

“forget it,” you murmur, and you turn around before vi can see how hurt you are. “it doesn’t matter.”

but as you walk away, letting the distance grow between you, you know that it does matter. it matters more than you want to admit, and even though you hate feeling this way, you know that this pain, this jealousy, won’t go away so easily.

[dissapointu]

All Arcane characters.

How would they react if they were in a bad situation and ended up in a difficult spot with their s/o across from them, totally unharmed.

They thought their s/o would help them out but was surprise to see us turn and rush away like a scared mouse, resulting them to the defend theirselves.

🤷 short answer: we got scared and ran away, leaving them behind

if their s/o ran away, leaving them in a tough spot:

————————————————————————

Vander:

The fight was intense—too intense. Vander had his hands full with enemies surrounding him, but he always expected you to be there, fighting by his side. He turned for a split second, looking for you, ready to get through this together. But then he saw it—you were running. Like a scared animal, darting into the shadows, leaving him to defend himself alone. His heart sank, confusion and hurt mixing in his chest.

His breath was steady, though, and his fists were still strong as he fought back, making sure they didn’t think they had the upper hand. But he couldn’t stop the sting of abandonment. “I thought we were in this together,” he muttered to himself, eyes flicking to the empty space where you once stood.

When the fight was over, he stood tall, a silent disappointment settling deep in his bones. He’d protect you to the end, but now, he’d be waiting for you to explain why you ran. He deserved answers.

Jinx:

It was chaos. Explosions. Fights. The kind of madness Jinx thrived in. She expected you to be at her side, playing along with her crazy world. But when she turned, seeing you dash away like a frightened bunny, her heart stopped for a moment. “What the hell, Y/N?!” she screamed, her voice laced with hurt and disbelief. The wild energy she had was suddenly gone, replaced by a frantic, hurt panic.

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She couldn’t. Her mind spun into a whirlwind of chaos as she threw herself at her attackers with everything she had. After the fight, when the dust settled, she’d be furious. She wouldn’t yell, though. She’d just… watch you. Cold and distant. “You left me,” she’d say, her voice trembling with something more than anger.

Vi:

Vi didn’t need backup—she was used to fighting alone, after all. But she thought you’d be with her. She thought you’d be her partner in this, but when she looked over, you were gone. Her brow furrowed, and the weight of betrayal hit harder than any punch she’d thrown. Her punches were fast and furious, each one fueled by the anger coursing through her veins. But inside? She was hurt.

When it was all over, she’d turn to find you. “What the hell was that about?” Her tone was sharp. “You think I can’t handle it without you? You think I needed you to save me?” She was angry. Angry at the situation, but mostly at you for running.

Sevika:

Sevika didn’t flinch when things got bad. She never did. But when she caught sight of you running away, her eyes narrowed. There was a flash of something—disappointment, but mostly anger. She didn’t need anyone to fight for her, but she thought you’d be there. She thought you’d be strong.

After the fight, her steps were heavy as she walked toward you, her gaze unwavering. “I didn’t expect you to be a coward,” she said, voice low and dangerous. She wasn’t going to beg for an explanation—she’d make you come to her.

Silco:

Silco was no stranger to betrayal, but this? This felt different. When you ran, his heart didn’t skip a beat—no, he didn’t have time for that. He fought, every movement calculated and precise. But inside? It was the kind of hurt he couldn’t shake.

Once it was over, he’d find you. He’d never raise his voice—that was beneath him. But he’d make sure you understood how much you’d disappointed him. “You don’t leave me,” he’d say softly, his gaze sharp. His tone wouldn’t hold anger, but there would be no mistaking the weight of his words.

Ekko:

Ekko was used to being the one who ran. He didn’t expect you to run too. When you bolted, his heart dropped, confusion clouding his mind. Why did you leave him? He fought through the pain, taking down enemies with precision, but every time he landed a blow, he couldn’t shake the disappointment. You left him.

Once it was over, he’d stare at you from across the room. “Why’d you leave me?” His voice wasn’t angry, but the hurt was there, deep and raw. You were supposed to be there with him. Together.

Jayce:

Jayce always wanted to protect you, to keep you safe. But when you ran, his world tilted. His hand clenched around his weapon, his thoughts scattered. He couldn’t understand. Didn’t you trust him? Didn’t you believe in him?

As the fight went on, he did his best to keep his cool, but the sting of betrayal made his attacks fiercer. After it was over, he’d turn to find you, his voice low but filled with disappointment. “I thought we were in this together.” His gaze would be soft, hurt, but still firm. Why?

Viktor:

Viktor’s mind was sharp, his focus honed like a blade. But when you ran, it knocked him off balance. His heart skipped a beat. Was he not enough? Was he too weak to keep you there? He pushed through the pain, every step he took calculated, every move precise. He couldn’t lose. Not like this.

When the fight was over, he’d take a moment to gather himself, his breath shallow. He wouldn’t yell—he never did. But when he found you, his words would be quiet, but full of meaning. “I thought you knew me better than that,” he’d say, the hurt hidden behind his calm tone.

Caitlyn:

Caitlyn had always counted on you. She never doubted you’d be there. But when you ran, her heart plummeted. She fought through the chaos, but something was off. She couldn’t stop thinking about you, about why you’d left. Didn’t you trust her?

After the fight, when it was all over, she’d find you, her gaze hard but concerned. “I thought we were a team,” she’d say, her voice wavering just slightly. “Why didn’t you stay with me?”

Mel Medarda:

Mel had never expected to rely on anyone, but she’d thought you were different. When you turned and fled, her heart tightened, and she was forced to keep her composure, her voice cold. She wasn’t surprised—no, not really. She didn’t need anyone. But the look of abandonment hurt more than she let on.

When it was done, she would find you, her eyes cold but searching. “Did you really think I couldn’t handle this without you?” she’d ask, her words sharp like glass.

Ambessa Medarda:

Ambessa was all about power, and she didn’t need anyone. But when she saw you run, she was… disappointed. She thought you’d be stronger. But she didn’t let it show. She took down her enemies with a practiced ease, her movements calculated.

After the fight, she’d stand before you, arms crossed, and would stare you down with those piercing eyes. “You think I can’t handle things on my own?” Her voice would be icy, the words cutting deeper than any weapon.

Cecil B. Heimerdinger:

Heimerdinger was used to thinking quickly, but when he saw you run, his heart sank. The sudden abandonment was something he wasn’t prepared for, though he didn’t let it stop him from pushing forward. After the battle, he’d find you, adjusting his glasses with a quiet but stern gaze. “I had hoped you’d be more capable,” he’d say, his disappointment palpable.

Salo:

Salo wouldn’t show his hurt, but deep down, it stung when you ran. He had been prepared for anything but that. He didn’t say anything during the fight—he didn’t need to. But when the dust settled, he’d face you, his tone low. “I don’t understand,” he’d say. “You didn’t think I could handle it?”

Scar:

Scar was a survivor. But when he saw you run, he paused for the briefest second, a flicker of something in his chest. It wasn’t betrayal—it was confusion. He finished the fight, but when it was over, he’d find you. “You left me. Why?” The question was quiet, but the weight behind it was immense.

Maddie Nolen:

Maddie was fierce, but when you turned tail and ran, it shook her. She wasn’t the type to rely on anyone, but she thought you were strong enough to stand by her side. When the fight ended, she found you. “What was that about?” Her voice wasn’t angry, but the confusion was clear. You left me.

Lest:

Lest never expected to be abandoned. When you ran, she gritted her teeth and fought harder, but deep down, she was… hurt. When the fight was over, her voice would be quiet, but full of meaning. “You left. Why?”

[nagaytoe]

Got a req! Howlw about some angst? What would happen after the bad end?

Evanescent

(Adj.) Soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing

Solivan Brugmansia X Reader

TWs: Murder, attempted murder, weapons, just a lot of death in general, loss of loved one, shifting blame, like one mention of necrophilia

Word count: 2.3k

I am currently cooking up 3 more scenarios of what could've happened after the bad end on day 2 but this is the first one that's actually finished (there were just too many ideas popping into my head so ofc i have to write for all of them lmao)

Requests: open

Disclaimer: i tried my best to proof-read it and tried using they/them pronouns but when i first wrote it i used she/her, i just hope i got all of 'em lol

Also, apparently 'whose' can also be used for objects as well and not just for people??? Sounds wrong to me but if the internet says it's right then lets hope its right haha

SPOILERS FOR DAY 2 OF THE KID AT THE BACK

Sol was inconsolable, his face buried in your neck, tears staining your shirt. His arms were wrapped around you but you didn’t reciprocate the gesture. How could you anyways? You were dead. Stabbed by Sol's only friend, Hyugo, who was currently cleaning up the gory scene.

---------------------------------------------------

Just a few moments ago you stumbled upon a horrifying view: Your friend, best friend, and your first love, Jericho Ichabod, laid on the dirty ground of a shed whose door you just broke down, his head barely attached to the neck.

Your knees gave in beneath you as soon as you gazed upon Crowe, grabbing his body, shaking it and willing him to wake up again. How could this happen? He was well liked, nice to everyone he met, who would think about taking his life? You barely registered footsteps behind you because of how loud you were sobbing, but the clanking of metal on the ground didn't slip past you. Turning around, your eyes are met with the sight of someone you didn't expect. You expected a gang leader, a thug, everyone but the one who actually stood in front of you.

Solivan Brugmansia

Just yesterday you befriended the seemingly timid boy and now he was soaked in blood, his red eyes wide as your gazes met.

“[____]...?” Tears of his own started to well up in his eyes which currently roamed over your hunched figure.

“What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here, you need to leave!” By the end of his sentence he was yelling, tears streaming down his face.

Truly a miserable, pathetic sight.

“You killed him, you killed Crowe, didn't you?” Anger was bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. On the inside you were praying to whatever god was watching from heaven above, if there even was one to begin with, that all this was nothing more than a bad dream, hoping insistently to wake up. However, this was a nightmare you were not permitted to ever wake up from.

“I only did what I should've done years ago.” His words caused you to huff in disbelief, “You're not even gonna deny it, huh?”

“I would never lie to you, [____]” Was he fucking serious? He just killed someone, but at least he's not a liar? What the hell was wrong with him?! You were enraged, he had no reason to kill Crowe, to play god by ending his life and taking your love from you.

“Why? Why did you kill him?!”

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU AND HE TRIED TO TAKE YOU AWAY FROM ME! I COULDN'T SIT BY AND LET THAT HAPPEN… YOU'RE MINE! MINE ALONE!” he finally snapped, showing his true colors. Was everything he showed you before just a facade? It had to be.

The words he just spoke left a disgusting taste in your mouth. Love? Love?! How dare he use this sweet word in such a disgusting fashion? How dare he taint it in order to justify his vile actions? It made you sick to your stomach and you were blinded by rage as you lunged at him.

“YOU MONSTER!”

You unbuckled the strap of his choker and pulled on it, strangling him in the process.

“YOU LOVE ME?! I LOVED HIM! HE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME! MY BEST FRIEND, MY FIRST LOVE, MY SAVIOR! YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME, I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU! DON'T YOU DARE IMAGINE YOU KNOW ME IN THE SLIGHTEST! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!”

Sol was clawing at your wrists by now, but it was no use, every action of his seemed slow and heavy, as if it took a lot of effort, almost as if he was paralyzed.

His hands fell to the side and just as you thought you managed to avenge your love something sharp pierced through your chest.

--

Here you were, taking your last breaths in the arms of the person you despise most.

“[____], please… please stay with me… don't leave me [____]...” his pleas were a stark contrast to what he is screaming at the person who stabbed you.

“HOW COULD YOU!? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”

Then he went back to sobbing into your shoulder. He seemed completely out of it, switching between grief and anger every other second.

You couldn't seem to make out the words your killer was saying, everything they said was incoherent, except for the last two words:

“No witnesses.”

---------------------------------------------------

“What do you plan on doing? Hold them until they start rotting?”

Hyugo was standing in front of Sol, who was still sitting on the ground, sobbing and cradling you in his arms. After he managed to clean up the scene, the only thing left to do was the disposal of your corpse.

“Just kill me alongside them.” Sols voice was quiet, barely above a whisper and it was strained from crying and screaming so much. It hurt Hyugo to see his best friend like that.

“You know very well I can't do that.”

“YOU WERE ABLE TO KILL THEM THOUGH! I JUST GOT THEM BACK AND YOU TOOK THEM FROM ME!”

Hyugo couldn't hold back his anger anymore. How could Sol still fail to see that this would've never worked out either way?

“THEY TRIED TO KILL YOU!”

Hyugo sighed deeply in an effort to calm himself before continuing, “Even if I had only knocked them out, do you think they would’ve forgiven you for killing Crowe-”

“Don't you dare bring up that bastards name. All of this is his fault anyways. If it hadn't been for him… me and my sweet [____] would still be together now…”

Sols voice was laced with venom as he gripped your body tighter. You have stopped breathing by now, the color has long drained from your face and the warmth of your skin has vanished. All that was left was an empty shell of who you once were.

Just yesterday, you were breathing, talking, laughing. Now? Now you will never be able to do any such thing again.

“It was you or them, Sol. I need you to understand that. Do you truly believe they could've loved you back after finding out you killed someone? Do you think the two of you would have lived happily ever after?” The blue haired man was trying his best to reason with his best friend, but to no avail.

“We could've made it work, I know that we would have… We were destined to be together, there wouldn't have been any other way…Maybe I should just keep them…”

“Sol.” Hyugo put his hand on the taller males shoulder, who was still sitting on the sheds ground. “We need to bury them.”

Sol seemed to be pondering for a moment, the hold he had on your body relentless.

“I can't… I can't let them go. They're gonna be really scared if we bury them and leave them in the darkness forever…”

“Sol, I'll repeat myself one last time. We need to bury them. What else are we supposed to do with their body? Keep it?” Hyugo put his hands on his hips, his patience wearing thin.

“I see no reason to not keep it…” the males words were muttered, but his friend was still able to hear them.

“You can't be serious! Do you know what happens to a body when it decays? They'll have 2 weeks at best before there's nothing left of them, except for the bones.”

Sol knew his friend was right, but how was he supposed to let go of you?

“They deserve a gravestone… a funeral… they deserve a memorial and not to be buried in the woods like some dead animal…”

Hyugo sighed. He knew that there is pretty much nothing he could do right now to convince Sol to do the right thing, he will keep arguing until he gets his way.

“What's your plan?”

Sol considered his options for a few moments before responding,

“Let's call the cops, make it look like an accident or shift the blame onto someone else”

Hyugo scoffed, “And what do you plan to tell them? We don't exactly have an alibi and there aren't that many families with Katanas either, you know? The only other family I can think of right now is Subarus.”

Red eyes met Hyugos teal ones, it's obvious an idea struck Sol. “That's right…”

Hyugo immediately cut Sol off before the latter could finish his sentence.

“Absolutely not! I will not drag my brothers family into this.”

“He doesn't even like you!” Sol retorted.

The shorter males eyes grew wide for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure.

“You know what? Do whatever you want. Keep their body like some necrophilie if that's what you desire.” Turning on his heel, Hyugo began walking off. He already took care of everything necessary, cleaning the scene and disposing of the weapons alongside Crowes body. He was not in the mood to argue with someone whose judgment was clouded and wouldn't even listen to him in the first place.

Sols rage grew stronger by the minute. How dared he? Hyugo killed his one and only soulmate in cold blood, like they were nothing and now he walked off just like that? No… No, he won't. Sol won't let that happen. He couldn't let him disrespect you like that. Carefully lowering your body to the ground and standing up, just as Hyugo walked out of the cabin, Sol quickly lunged at the shorter, unsuspecting male.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Hyugo might be good with weapons but he wasn't all that strong physically.

Well, at least he was weaker than Sol. Since Hyugo buried his katana alongside any other evidence all he can fight with were his bare hands.

“SOL, GET OFF OF ME!”

Sols hands wrapped themselves around Hyugos throat, just like yours were wrapped around his not even half an hour ago. Pressing his friend's head into the dirt ground, Sol is blinded by rage. Hyugo clawed at the taller males wrists, kicking him but Sols grip won't loosen. Letting go of the hands that were wrapped around his throat, Hyugo felt the dirt ground around him for something he can potentially defend himself with and sure enough - he managed to grab ahold of a rock, swiftly smashing it against the side of Sols head.

The taller male staggered and collapsed on the floor next to Hyugo, who hit the exact right spot to knock someone out.

Hyugo stood up, dusting off his clothes and sighing. What a mess. He knew that he needed to get rid of the body, even if it'll drive Sol further into madness.

So that's what he did. He buried [____]s body deep in the forest before sitting down by Sol's side, waiting for him to wake up.

—————————

Sol didn't attempt to kill Hyugo again after the first time, though part of the reason might be the ax Hyugo found in the shed and kept on him afterwards for self-protection. Either way, Sol acted like Hyugo didn't exist. To him he was dead anyways.

He tried his best, tried to go to school but the next days there were hell. People talked, gossiped, conspired as to what could've happened to [____] and Crowe. Were they kidnapped by the mafia? Did they commit suicide together? Did they run away together? Did they join a cult? People made up all kinds of stories in order to make sense of the situation, but only Sol and Hyugo were the ones who knew the truth.

After a few days, Sol stopped going to school. He couldn't handle it any longer.

Every time he sat in his classes he would draw you, instead of paying attention to what the teacher was saying.

Every time he sat in art class he was met with the sight of your unoccupied seat.

Every time lunch break rolled around he would go to the library where the two of you met and sit down in the seat he sat in on that day.

After school he would go to your apartment complex and break into your apartment to lay down on your bed, hugging your sheets and pillows, pretending they were you.

Hyugo never told Sol where he had buried you, too anxious about what Sol might do were he to know where you've been buried.

Not even a week passed before Sol decided what he had to do next.

On monday, almost a whole week after your death, Sol went back to school. The place where he first saw you, where he fell for you and in whose proximity you had died. Though, instead of attending class, he walked up the stairs to the school roof. The cool november breeze brushed over his face, twirling his hair and swaying single strands from side to side.

He climbed over the fence, briefly sitting down on it.

There was no further purpose in living, that, he was sure of. He lost his only purpose and what meaning does life have if it has to be spent without you, his darling?

All he could do was atone for his sins.

His mind is occupied with memories of you as he leapt forwards, clutching his fist to his chest where his heart resided.

“See you soon, pumpkin.”

Everything went dark as his body met the ground. There was no pain, there was no afterthought. All that's there is nothingness.

Of course, to the people now surrounding his body there was a gruesome scene, perhaps they would prefer nothingness as well. But if there was nothingness, there would be no note either, tucked away in his fist.

“In the forest”, the note read.

Sol promised to atone for his sins and he would never lie to you, remember?

[cherry-pop-elf]

Over For Dinner

Art The Clown x Reader

AN: I got SO MUCH love for my Your Own Happy Ending so here we are with more horror x reader content!

Sum: Halloween had passed and Christmas was just around the corner. You were just doing some domestic things when you couldn’t help but notice a window was open. One you had locked

Warnings: 18+, Violence, gore, home intruder, Art being Art, MUTE Art (gotta take the disability rep when we can) gun violence, implied cannibalism, attempted sexual assault, (but we all know revenge is on its way. Shout out to my fellow victims that need their comfort killer to kill their abusers) it’s gonna get messy, very horror aesthetic story line, just. Art being art. (Needs another warning 😭) and of course domestic fluff as icing on this murder cake

“Honey! Where did you put the Christmas lights?!” You shouted to your boyfriend, only to stumble upon them in the kitchen. Just where he had left them for you.

“NEVER MIND-!”

You would grab the box, and started to hang the slightest all through out the interior of the home. Oh the joys of LED lights. Saves you money while still enjoying the festive spirit.

It wasn’t Halloween, sure, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be fun. To enjoy the lights, music, sounds, and pleasures. Each holiday had its own little flavor. Some might not enjoy certain flavors, others may have a favorite. Doesn’t hurt to dabble in multiple.

You were humming away at some Christmas tune, while wrapping the lights or hanging them, when you stumbled upon an open window. You would poke your head out, and looked around. Was wondering where that draft came from.

You pulled your head back in, and then closed it shut. That’s when you noticed something was off with the lock. It was locked in place, yet the window had been open. You gave the window another look over and found that the wood work looked strange. Like someone shoved a crowbar between it and forced it open. The small splintering a reaction from it.

“Honey?” You called out, trying to reason that maybe it was his doing. Some kind of prank of sorts. Yeah. Your boyfriend was quite the card after all. Would make sense that he would do something wild. Always liked to keep you on your toes.

Still…..This wasn’t his style. Not his style at all. Was way too subtle. He’s NOT the subtle type.

You hurried back into the kitchen, and pulled out one of the knives from your block. Someone was inside the house. Someone who shouldn’t be.

“Hey honey?! You still in the attic?!” You called out, as you slowly walked the hallways. Maybe if you kept making it clear you weren’t the only one in the house that the intruder would get scared and run off. Right?

That’s what you hope anyway. You had a theory that this person assumed you lived alone. Your boyfriend always made sure to leave the house at night, and it was normally very late at night no less. People wouldn’t assume you had someone live with you.

“Honey?!” You called again, wondering why he wasn’t responding. Yeah he can’t respond, but he had ways to indicate he heard you. You made the effort to learn sign language for him, and he made the effort to find alternatives to share his voice with you.

Just where was it right now?

Slowly through the hallways you went. Each step as calculated as it could be. Every creak of a floorboard was memorized by all your little hide and seek games with your partner. All the corners treated with care. Any sound you heard was listened as hard as ears could muster.

Nothing but wind, cars driving by, and your own breathing.

Like a crack of lighting the back of your head was grabbed, and your face was slammed into the wall. Such pain made your body instinctively let go of your blade, and reach for where you hurt. Curse your human reaction. Hardly so much as touched your face when you were yanked away from the bloody wallpaper.

A arm was around your throat, and another around your waist. Your fingers tried to tear at the arm on your neck, but the invader was wearing thick clothing. No way for you to get any kind of hit. All you could do was fight to breathe.

“I know you are home all alone. That Honey bullshit isn’t fooling me. Now just play nice and you won’t get hurt more than needed. Got it?” The man would speak into your ear, as you felt cold metal being pressed against your temple.

Guess you gotta play nice.

“The hell do you want, huh?” You snapped. Suppose when your lover is a few lions short of a full circus you don’t get scared of dangerous situations as easy as you should. If this was between you and your boyfriend it would simply be foreplay.

“Well for starters money. You got yourself a pretty fancy house here. Not enough for security cameras, but it’s clear you got enough. I also want to have some fun with you. No point wasting a warm body.” He chuckled at you, as he would rub the gun across your body. Made you want to gag. Or was that just the borderline suffocation?

“Fuck off. For your information I do have a boyfriend. My boyfriend is an insane bastard no less. He’s going to turn you into mush for what you are doing to me. He’s around here somewhere. Must be behind the house helping decorate. You are dead meat when he comes in here!” You threatened, just to get the barrel of the gun pointed back at your temple.

“Oh will you fucking shut up? You got no boyfriend. I’ve been watching this house for ages. Never seen him once. It’s always just been you. I sure as hell never heard him either-!” That’s when you had to cut in. “He’s mute you shit head. Of course you wouldn’t hear him-!” That just made him laugh.

“You are really sticking to that whole boyfriend thing, huh? Well if it’s true then that means you know how to please a man. Don’t you?” That made you shiver in disgust, as he gave another tight hug around your waist. Just finding any excuse to touch you.

That’s when there was the sound of the back door opening.

“Who the fuck is that?” He would grit between his teeth, as you grinned.

“My boyfriend. Duh.”

That didn’t please him one bit. The attacker was soon trying to drag you somewhere else in the house. To try and maybe buy some time to think of how to handle two people against one. You sure made sure he struggled though. Kicking your legs, and trying to make a noise. The cold metal to your temple made it clear you couldn’t speak or it’s game over. So all you can do is legs.

He was making an attempt for the stairs, to try and make distance away from the back door, but that just gave you the perfect kicking items. You nailed each photo frame you could with your feet. Sent them crashing down, and glass breaking. Was very loud against the quiet house. Not to mention since it’s on the stairs they would go toppling down.

That noise alerted your boyfriend in an instant, and now he was at the bottom of the stairs.

He looked like such a normal guy. Snow was still fresh on his black boots and pants. A cozy white sweater and gloves. A nice finish was a black beanie. Looked like your typical string bean. The only thing that seemed off at all was his very defined nose. If not that, just another guy off the street.

“Watch it! I’m the one with the gun here! Don’t try anything or the bitch gets it!” The man would yell at your boyfriend, as said boyfriend held his hands up. Acting as if he was a scared man.

“We are going to do things my way. That means no funny business, got it?!” You couldn’t stop your snort, despite the dire situation. Had him look down at you, and press the gun harder into your temple.

“The hell is so fu-!”

Bang.

The intruder wasn’t the only one with a gun.

He was just to damn fast for the attacker to comprehend. One second he had a gun at your head, the next he was tumbling down the stairs. Screaming in pain, as he had been shot right into his hand.

“I warned ya! But no~! Someone wanted to be all big and tough huh?” You mocked, as you would come down the stairs. Stepped right over him, and gave your knight in shining armor a kiss of gratitude. Arms wrapped around his neck, and his own around your waist.

“Eh. Guess we should be good hosts and have him over for dinner. I know you love fresh meat.” You giggled, as your attacker was in pain and confusion. Didn’t have time to ask what you meant, before he was tossed over the shoulder of the man who shot him. Gun playfully spinning in his hand, as you focused on cleaning up the mess.

You would hum away, as you would hang up the photos that weren’t broken, meanwhile the intruder was screaming for help. Begging for god to save him.

There was no god here.

You would take the gun off the stairs, and bring it to a trunk that was stuffed full of weapons. Many your boyfriends, but most from all the other people who tried to fuck with the clown.

You locked it up, and came to the kitchen. Going to get some bleach from under the sink.

“Aw dammit. We ran out of bleach. Art, sweetie, do we have any in the pantry?” You looked over so casually, while the man was strapped down on the marble counter top. Currently having himself become a dissected mess. Organs currently being pulled out and separated.

Art would give you a nod, before getting back to work. That work being pull the man’s heart out, and offering it to you. Had you all giggly, as you kissed his bloody cheek.

“Aren’t you sweet. I’ll clean up the stairs while you finish with dinner. Guess we don’t have to worry about a Christmas ham this year. Thanks so much for coming over! Saved us alot of stress.” You would wave at the man, as he would soon just lay there. Eyes glossy from death pulling him to wherever his soul may lay.

“My hero.” You laughed, as you kissed his cheek again. Was happily returned, before you two nuzzled your noses together. As if simply newly weds.

What a way to start the holidays.

[whysoblue2]

Random word babble you can ignore about Shamura and Kallamar, but it's kind of fun to imagine the years when Shamura was still mostly a war god but they were also a new older brother to Kallamar and how that likely manifested at first.

Gods in general are pretty known for their selfishness, so I always end up imagining Shamura being a bit overprotective with Kallamar for a little bit and especially very possessive over Kallamar in general for longer while also being both more tending/loving and more aggressive in their actions to and about Kallamar because they're still, ya know, learning to chillax.

Which ends up with Kallamar being very confused in general and even more scared but also, at least a little bit, relieved and happy to finally have a safe space in Shamura. I can also definitely see Kallamar seeing Shamura as a sibling first before Shamura saw him as a little brother, but those feelings hit Shamura HARD in the gut, they weren't prepared at all. And it's just nice to think about

Oh, you make a lot of good points and I can see it! 

And sorry for the incoming wall of text, have a suffering Kall for your journey, friend!

When I wrote the chapter about Kall, I hinted at how their relationship worked in those years they were alone. 

To me, Shamura never really wanted to be a big sibling when he met Kall. They spared him out of pity and convenience because this squidling still had some power to unlock that they could exploit in their grand scheme of killing deities to reform a new pantheon.

So why was Kall always scared and insanely good with weapons? (yeah he was definitely the hardest fight for me, like 10 times harder than Shamura so I don't know if this is common or I just sucked, but it's part of my hc now). 

The first years they were together, it was hell for Kall! Shamura was brutal in their teachings and didn't care to be gentle or compassionate, even less empathic, all things that Kall is. 

So they taught him to fight, to kill and to go against his natural calling for healing by unlocking the power to harm with sickness. They did that through violence, through "tough love" cause ffs, god of war and all that. 

In my head, the scar on Kall's left eye is Shamura's doing, a mark they left to remind him who is in charge and that they could kill him any moment they wanted.

Things started to change slowly over the years. Kall was the one who "taught" Shamura love, and yes, I am 100% with you on the protective and possessive attitude. Kall became a precious ally, good at his powers, older, and an object of attention.

Kall indeed saw Shamura as a bigger sibling first to try and give meaning to that twisted Stockholm syndrome he was experiencing. He would love his jailer because he thought he could change them and make them better, heal them while being terrified of them.

The relationship evolved eventually, but I can see Shamura not letting Kall out of their sight, killing suitors or friends and imagining them as spies or assassins that could harm his precious little brother. 

You know "I do it for you, I love you and I want to keep you always safe"

Then Kall started to be more independent and they probably hated that, but they needed him for god-killing so they had to let him go and do his thing. 

When things got more chill, Shamura really loved Kall as much as Kall loved them, but I imagine that underneath the care and niceness that they showed to the other siblings, the feeling toward Kall would still be unconsciously toxic and possessive.

SO conclusions: I feel their relationship is unique compared to the other siblings. Kall has seen the very worst of Shamura and lived with them during that time. That gotta hurt, that is trauma. And that's why our favourite squid is scared all the time.

Thanks for the ask, I love rambling!

[atopvisenyashill]

@amethyinst wait let’s TALK ABOUT IT bc everything you’re saying is CORRECT and OBVIOUS, and i wasn’t expecting it to be SO OBVIOUS and YET i feel like it gets really glossed over!

the “harsh journey across barren wasteland” thing is practically jumping off the page here, down to bran losing rickon & osha early in the journey and dany losing doreah early in hers, & the kicking off point being a fight between several factions of what’s left of drogo’s khalasar & dany’s, and the final sack of Winterfell being this kind of three way issue between what’s left of the iron islanders, the stark loyalists theon left alive, & ramsay. dany & bran really escape death here through like, oodles of luck and quick thinking from the people around them.

but ALSO you have dany currently on the dothraki sea and bran in the far north, and both of them are just kind of looking away when meat of a questionable source is given to them. and i think there’s something more here, in that dany shows up to qarth & it’s an oasis in the sea, only every door is shut in her face and the warlocks are there ~lurking. meanwhile you have bran showing up to the far north hoping for a miracle cure to his legs and to get all the magical answers he seeks only to get some very shitty answers from the cotf while bloodraven is ~lurking. this is why i think there’s a chance bran is leaving the cave p quickly in twow - like dany in the dothraki sea, he’s going to have an extended journey where it’s just him (and maybe Summer) using his warging abilities and trying to get his body to the wall. probably doing a lot of reflecting, and possibly learning the wrong lesson as he reflects!

and there’s a lot between hotu & the cave too - learning the old gods are just greenseers, seeing with his own eyes that the first men sacrificed people to fuel their magic, seeing his father talking about jon, seeing lyanna & benjen spar. meanwhile dany is having visions that include her brother talking about tptwp, her father yelling to burn everyone,and the “false wizards” who try to trick her. both of them being shown but not quite processing that all their visions are linked to their own history. there’s the elusive, suspicious way the warlocks & quaithe speak with dany, always in riddles, and bloodraven is equally suspicious and cagey. but they’re both learning, they’re both progressing in their magic, and they’re both really struggling with placing where ~the line is morally when it comes to how they use their magic - but look at their mentors lmao, they have the world’s shadiest teachers.

and YEAH everyone loves to talk about the targaryen connection & jon and dany both being born towards the end of the rebellion, but i think it’s glossed over that both dany & bran are kinda In The Shit when their parents get murdered during a succession war and have to go underground or get killed. dany’s fondest memories are the ones from when she’s bran’s age and younger, with willem darry there to care for her (like the ONLY capable adult she ever interacts with 😭). and you have osha, who like willem darry isn’t really a sworn sword type, they’re just very loyal people who were close at hand and did what they could for the children in their care. there’s something that links them when it comes to, idk exactly how to phrase it, but physical trauma & their magic coming in, basically. both of their childhoods whittling their support systems down until they’re alone - only when they’ve experienced physical traumas & lost everything can they access magic on a stronger scale. and the fact that they both reach for it sooo readily! jon doesn’t want anything to do with it, he’s spent nearly every book actively running from it, but dany and bran turn right into the arms of their magic as a refuge.

they’re also just both clearly the prophecy children lol no offense to jon (or tyrion for that matter) but i think even IF jon or tyrion or aegon (or euron 💀) manage to get a dragon, the capital p Prophecy Children are dany & bran as the last dragon and the last greenseer. and they’re so much THERE too - bran looks like an andal & dreamt more ~andal-ish dreams but inherits the legacy of the first men’s magic after being disabled and socially de masculinized bc of that disability, while dany looks a consummate valyrian but she’s a girl and inherits the mantle of last dragon after every man in her line fails. everyone wants to be THEM but they are the only ones capable of that power - and that’s a good thing but also a very bad thing.

[professorjirt]

ok I’m gonna bitch a little bit but I’m not going to feel bad about it bc I believe being a lover and a hater in equal measure is the key to balance or whatever.

I saw this image on Pinterest and it was the final straw for me lol. I can’t STAND this kind of interpretation of The Hobbit or Bagginshield/Thilbo because it’s so blatantly untrue. Yes, Bilbo dealt with a LOT of sadness and loneliness. Yes, he was forever changed by his journey and didn’t have the proper ways to heal and cope. But Bilbo DID move onwards. Of course he remembered Thorin and was always sad about losing him and Kíli and Fíli, and of course he still dealt with the trauma from all of that, but he wasn’t dwelling on that loss every day after he got back home. He became a social outcast not because he was mourning but because he went on an adventure at all. He could have had the happiest and non-tragic adventure in Middle Earth and he still would have ended up as “cracked” Bilbo Baggins because of the way hobbit society views that sort of behavior. He was sad for a very long time after Thorin’s death, stated directly from the book, but the implication there is that Bilbo DID eventually begin to heal and move forward. He found happiness in things again, he wasn’t wailing every night for his lost love, he was doing exactly what Thorin’s last request was, that Bilbo live his life well. Bilbo wasn’t alone forever either— Frodo came into his life as a like-minded companion and Bilbo clearly enjoyed having him around (and it wasn’t because Frodo reminded him of Thorin. I don’t mind people saying that Frodo had similarities Bilbo noticed but putting that as the only connection and draw for Bilbo towards Frodo feels like such a disservice to the true depth of Bilbo and Frodo’s relationship). When the Ring began to affect him, he was able to let it go and left to see as much as he could of his old adventures (it IS sad that he couldn’t make it to the Lonely Mountain but that doesn’t cancel out what he WAS able to get to) and reunited with quite a few of his old dwarvish companions. He was sobered by the realization of the true nature of his magic ring and, after Frodo volunteers (and Bilbo is prevented from going bc he was going to try) he is saddened that someone so close to him must deal with the burden of something he felt he started, but he stayed in Rivendell safe and taken care of until Frodo returned, and was happy to reunite with him. Bilbo then spent a few years in his advanced age but well taken care of and honored, and then got to have one final adventure. His story isn’t miserable, and it does have an end, eventually, even despite his own fears that it wouldn’t. I love Bagginshield and I acknowledge the sadness and tragedy in Bilbo’s story, but acting like he had nothing good in his life and the adventure was the single worst thing to ever happen to him is such a gross misunderstanding of not only The Hobbit but Lord of the Rings that it makes me wonder if these people care about the actual characters and not just the ‘fandom’ characters and stories they have in their head. Yes it was a tragedy that Thorin and Bilbo were parted in such a way, but making his story freeze right there isn’t fair to either of them! It feels similar to that popular fandom ship thing where people begin to act like romantic and sexual love is the only relevant aspect of any characters relationships and interactions, and center every single thing around a ‘ship’ instead of engaging with the characters entire worlds and why their relationships are interesting beyond tropes and aus. Bilbo did get to live a good and simple life!! I like tragedy, I wouldn’t be a fan of two of the most miserable characters in Tolkien’s legendarium if I didn’t, but not everything has to be that way, and it flattens the effect of the story to reduce things to only sadness.

I’m not sure how to sign off on this one, but hopefully this doesn’t come across like I’m a party pooper who hates fandom. I really don’t, I greatly enjoy participating in fandom and I don’t mind some trope work or aus being built from the original story, but when people begin to willfully twist said original story in ways it wasn’t meant to be simply because they only really care about two characters in a ship instead of the greater narrative. It feels like it disrespects who these characters are on their own, like they’re lesser when they’re not paired up, if that makes sense. Anyway, I’ve seen the sentiment about Bilbo’s life being nothing but misery after his adventure quite a few times now and I wanted to say something, even if it’s just for me, although I’m curious if anyone has anything to add or a different perspective to bring.

TLDR: Bilbo was happy and lived a good life! Let him have that! He had friends and family around him that supported him and cared about him and he did have a conclusion to his story, however long it took. Losing Thorin doesn’t mean Bilbo has nothing else.

[lewmagoo]

Hi lovely! For the blurb day, could I please request Bob Floyd + 35) "tell me what you want me to do to you." from the smut part 2 list please 🥰

so sorry it took me so long to get to this!

for bob, foreplay didn't just begin in the bedroom. he'd been warming you up all day. you'd woken up to a gift card to your favorite coffee shop and a romantic note on your bedside table that morning, well after bob had left for work. and then he'd sent you several texts throughout the day, telling you that he loved you, how beautiful you were, how he couldn't wait to see you later that day. and when he came home, he walked through the door with his hands full of takeout bags from your favorite restaurant. of course, he didn't stop there. he let some candles so you could enjoy your dinner by candlelight.

and then of course there was the touching. periodically, his fingers lovingly caressed your cheek, your arm, your back, so on and so forth. and the way he looked at you? it set you on fire. by the end of the evening, you wanted him so badly, it made your head spin. there he was in his sweatpants and naval academy shirt, smelling of body wash and cologne from his post work shower, but also that natural musk that could only be described as bobby. god, it was intoxicating. he was so good at stoking the flames of your desire. he'd performed all of these romantic gestures throughout the day to make you feel special and adored, and that alone made you wetter than anything else could.

it was why you found yourself straddling him on the living room floor, grinding against him, mouth open and hot upon his as you kissed him. you could feel his cock through his sweatpants, already beginning to harden. but he didn't want to have you on the living room floor. no, when he made love to you, it would be in the comfort of your own bed. "sweetheart," he moaned, "let me take you up to bed."

"i want you here," you whined slightly. he leaned back, brow raised, a commanding glint in his eye that made your pussy clench. oh. he meant business.

"i'm not going to lay my wife out on the living room floor. let's go up to bed, where i can get you comfortable before i have my way with you." his tone trembled, barely checked need in his voice. he left no room for argument, so with a weak nod, you allowed him to ease you off of his lap before he stood and pulled you up with him. he tugged you close, kissing you languidly before he took your hand and led you upstairs. the whole time, you were buzzing, eager, excited. he made you feel so alive.

and when he finally did get you into bed, he made a show of removing your clothes, stripping you bare, exposing your beautiful body to him. and then, as he moved to hover over you, he spoke again. "tell me what you want me to do to you." his eyes narrowed. his mouth parted, and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. he looked as if he wanted to devour you.

"i...i..." suddenly you were so hot, warm all over. he wanted you to speak these things into the air between you. salacious things. you knew what you wanted him to do to you, because you'd been thinking about it all day. but now that he was staring you down, expecting you to speak the words, you felt so shy.

gently, he tucked his finger beneath your chin and tilted your face so you were looking at him. "it's just you and me, darlin'. please, i want to hear you say it. tell me how you want me to make love to you."

you took in a ragged breath, closing your eyes for a moment before you replied. "i want you to kiss me all over." that was a start. "and then i...i want your mouth on my pussy first. and your fingers inside me." couldn't forget those glorious fingers of his.

"like this?" he asked, as he slowly began to trail kisses down your jaw, over your neck, past your collarbone. when you confirmed it with an affirmative hum, he smiled before he continued his descent, mouth hot and wet against your skin as he worshiped you. "keep going, my love. what else?"

you bit your lip as you watched him push your thighs further apart and settle between them. he was so close to where you needed him most. "then i w-want you to make me come on your tongue. and when i'm still twitching from it i want you to put your cock inside me and fuck me until i'm crying." a sense of boldness washed over you as your anticipation mounted.

bobby hummed, lashes fluttering before he ducked forward to leave a kiss against your soaked pussy. "there, that wasn't so hard, was it?" then his tongue darted out, laving against you, tasting you. "i'm going to do all of those things to you, i promise. but i'm also going to do so much more. i've been thinking about you all day, and now that i have you all to myself..." he trailed off for a moment, eyes falling shut as he swirled his tongue around your swollen little bundle. "just lay back and let your husband take care of you, darlin'. i'm going to make you feel so good."

let it be known, bob floyd always keeps his promises.

[acesandocs]

Some of the different phases in Åse's life.

3-6 Like most are at that age he's a curious but shy kid. He has at that point started to pick up on how a lot of people seem to dislike him but he doesn't know why. His mom and grandparents try to shield him from most of it but he still gets teased and bullied by a lot of the other kids though since he was so little at that point he couldn't do much about it. (theme)

6-9 This is the point he gets big enough to actually defend herself. This period is marked by a lot of visits from angry neighbors about whatever new fight he had gotten into with their kids. His mom usually didn't punish him for this though as even she knew nine times out of ten he was just defending himself. And while he didn't actively start exploring her gender identity until after she moved to America, she did start asking a lot of question about why certain things were only for boys or girls, like having short hair. He ended up cutting it himself after getting into an argument with his mom about it and it was mostly a decision made out of spite and just to see what would happen. (theme)

9-14 When he came into his preteens he had proven to be more trouble that he was worth so most left him alone at this point and just judged him from a distance. She also started making her own clothes and expressing herself though her fashion, taking a lot of inspiration from the fairy tale illustration in her favorite books. She also made her closest childhood friend when she was nine. And maybe she also wanted to look lovingly into her eyes and kiss her but all girls want to do that with their friends right? They stayed friends up until Åse had to move which was also her first heartbreak. (theme)

14-18 Maybe the worst part of her life if you asked her, not that she really want to talk about it anyway. Moving took a big toll on her and after a falling out with her mom she ran away from home. She fell in with a bad person who was very controlling and made her dress more to his liking than what she actually felt comfortable in. She wore a lot of dark colors and she felt and looked the least like herself. (theme)

18-19 After some questionable decisions and a short incarceration she officially became a fugitive from the law and thus started traveling west to escape the heat. He presented fully male at this point as well as starting to bind his chest. Traveling was ok enough and in some ways he got to fulfill a childhood dream of traveling the country. But the stress of not having a stable and safe place to sleep at night and not knowing if one bad run in with a cop could land her back in jail took a toll on her. So did all the back alley fighting matches he took part in to make money, its a miracle he still has all his teeth. (theme)

19-21 after getting scouted at a match in st Louis a subordinate of Atlas got him in touch with her and he offered her a job, to which she agreed. She was a bit of an outsider at first but eventually found her footing. He kept presenting male but did open up about his assigned gender to a few people. (theme)

21-22 while she wasn't all that close to Atlas his death still affected her through the shock waves it sent though the Lackadaisy. She might be the person with the most reason to pack up and leave other than maybe Horatio. Still she stays, because even if he doesn't want admit it she cares about these people. It took me a few tries to land on his default design but I feel he started to come together when I gave him the neckerchief. Its kind of a signature item and I try to include it in most of his designs now. He inherited it from his mom and thus didn't have it as a child. It kind of represent him stepping into being an independent adult. While the general style and length of his hair has stayed the same how I draw it is something I have and still struggle with. This is probably the closest Ive come to being happy with it. I struggled similarly with her pants as well for some reason. They have ended up looking more like bell bottoms than suit pants which isn't all that historically accurate but its ultimately what I think looks best. (theme)

[gothamite-rambler]

Barbara finds out Dick and Kori are back together

Context (there's a lot): Hey, this is my take on a ship fic about Dick and Kori, which I've always seen as my OTP. I love exploring how romance is perceived on Kori's planet, and when written well, I find it aligns with our view of monogamous dating. I mean no hate toward Babs/Dick shippers; I do get it and the current comic runs have done exceptionally well at writing them as a couple ... but Dick and Kori are my favorite couple they have my heart. This is connected to my Batfamiy flash fiction series.

This is if Barbara found out they were back together, with Dick and Barbara having more of a sibling-like after trying dating out, it didn't work so their friends. I promise this isn't sending hate to their ship, plus it's all fun tbh. I hope you enjoy it!

Barbara knocked on the door of Dick Grayson’s apartment, her fingers tapping a rhythm on the armrest of her wheelchair as she waited. Dick hadn't told her why he wanted to go out to lunch with her, but he said he has a big surprise for her.

Barbara (in her head): He's been acting odd lately and I know he's lying about taking a dance class. He dances alone, not with a group.

Barbara chuckles at that thought as she kept waiting for someone to answer the door. She knocked again.

Barbara (in her head): Oh God, I hope he doesn't want to try dating me again. I get it, I'm exceptional, but I can't date him again. At this point, he's like my twin brother which leagues better than my actual brother. And is he going to answer the damn door?!

She knocked a third time, this one with more force to sound louder and get Dick's attention to open the door. The door did open, but she was greeted by Kori wearing a silk bathrobe. A dark orange blush quickly colored her cheeks as her eyes widened.

Barbara (surprised): Starfire?

Kori (yelping, gripping her robe): Nope, not her!

She quickly slammed the door shut and unseeable to Barbara, she ran to the bathroom as Dick left the shower.

Kori (embarrassed): She saw me in a robe! Dang it!

Dick sighed, placing a hand over his eyes.

Outside, Barbara’s mind raced as she processed the unexpected sight.

Barbara (to herself): I didn’t take any loony pills, right? That was definitely only a robe! Are they back together? Oh my God, they got back together. That's fantastic- I should probably stop talking to myself and knock on the door again.

She knocked once more, this time with urgency. The door opened to reveal Dick, a bath towel wrapped precariously around his waist, held with one hand.

Dick: You probably have a lot of questions—

Barbara (loudly): You guys are back together?!

Dick (sighing, nodding): Yeah. I was going to tell you today when we went to Chili’s, but you decided to drop by early.

Barbara (laughing as she wheeled past him into the apartment): I got here five minutes early! But I didn’t expect you two to reconnect—especially like this. How long have you been hiding it?

Dick: Two months and three days. Nobody knows, except for you. You’re not mad, are you?

Barbara (turning to face him, raising an eyebrow): At what? That you're dating her again? Maybe five years ago, I would have been. But after dating you and—let's just say—being disappointed—

Dick: Okay, you don’t have to insult our sex! I was nervous back then!

Barbara (rolling her eyes): Fair enough. Honestly, I’m happy. Now the rumors about us can end. I really don’t need people gossiping that we’re back together.

Dick (cocky): Because you’re worried people will wonder how you scored a treasure like me?

Barbara (sarcastically): Whatever you want to believe, Dick. And by the way, keep the towel around your waist; I don’t want to go blind seeing that again.

Dick rolled his eyes, trying to maintain his dignity.

Dick: I’m glad you’re not jealous anymore. At this point, we’re friends, and I don’t want to deal with relationship drama.

Barbara (nodding): Now we’re on the same page. Not going to lie, though, I’m surprised she took you back. Where’d the blushing Starfire go, anyway? I thought she’d be worried I’d snap seeing her again, but I want to chat.

As Barbara wheeled around the apartment, Dick considered her comment.

Dick: What do you mean you’re surprised she took me back?

Barbara (over her shoulder): I’ve known you long enough, Dickie-bird. You know exactly what I mean.

Dick (smirking): You’re one to talk. You hacked my text messages when you thought I was dating someone else—or the time you thought I was dating my rapist when she was actually a crazy stalker.

Barbara (genuinely): I am sorry for being like that, although you definitely were texting that first girl.

Dick: She was my yoga teacher!

Barbara shrugged, acknowledging her past assumptions during their brief stint of dating.

Barbara: You were the jealous type, annoyingly overprotective... and, let’s just say, you weren’t exactly gifted in the bedroom.

Dick crossed his arms, trying to ignore Barbara’s jabs, even though he was tempted to respond.

Barbara (calling out): Kori, come on out! I’m not judging you. I’m genuinely happy for you two and hope you can make it work. Dick's been playing the field for years; it’s about time he settles down.

Dick (angry but holding the towel): I’ve said nothing to warrant this onslaught of insults!

Barbara (laughing): I’m just trying to break the ice and simply stating a fact. Kori! As long as you’re not wearing that robe, we can talk now.

There was a heavy sigh, and then Kori emerged from Dick’s bedroom, now wearing a purple top and blue jeans. She offered a small wave and a smile.

Kori: I really didn’t want our meeting to be this awkward. I overheard you two talking, and I’m glad you don’t hate me for getting back with Dick. I really hate that we fought over him in the past.

Barbara nodded, understanding Kori's perspective.

Barbara: Same here. I care about him, but he’s my friend. That’s why I make jokes at his expense.

Dick crossed his arms, scoffing, though his smile betrayed his amusement.

Barbara (continuing): You’re probably going to be the best influence on him. Plus, Dick and I have stayed friends for about seven years. I prefer that dynamic, and he couldn't handle all this.

Kori pondered that for a second and then nodded in agreement.

Kori: It's tough for me, especially matching his... freak, as they call it.

Barbara stifled a laugh, covering her mouth.

Barbara: Yeah, Richard's freak has definitely been discussed in the hero circle. I’ve never done it, but I’ve heard he does the crouching tiger well.

Kori (with a playful grin): I'm on top during—

Dick (blushing, from the next room): Could you not?! I'm getting changed; don’t mock me while I’m gone!

Dick wandered off to his room, avoiding eye contact with Barbara, who was clearly entertained by the entire conversation.

Kori (giggling): Looks like we've managed to ruffle his feathers.

Barbara: I’ve got a talent for that. The point is, Kori, we’ve had our issues, but I’m on board with this new dynamic. Seriously, I'm not mad or jealous. I’m... happy for both of you.

Barbara smiled and gave Kori a sincere nod.

Barbara: I don’t want to push this, but I could really use more girlfriends besides Batgirls, Supergirls, and Harley.

Kori nodded thoughtfully, her expression brightening.

Kori: Plus, our blossoming friendship could lead to some surprising reactions that will definitely make us laugh.

Barbara rolled closer, extending her hand.

Barbara: Now you’re talking. Kori, this is the start of something great.

Kori (jokingly): Or a “colleagueship”?

They shook hands.

Kori: Would you like a snack? We could play a card game while we wait for Dick.

Barbara (enthusiastic): Oh my goodness, you’re already winning me over. I’ll be in the living room. And Kori, keeping an eye on Dick is probably a good idea—he can be weird at times.

Dick (from the other room): Oh my God, I’m not even in the room!

Laughter filled the air as Kori and Barbara shared a light moment, the tension melting away with each chuckle. By the time Dick emerged from his room, a sense of camaraderie settled in, carrying the promise of new beginnings.

A Smoothie and a Second Chance

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

of the father and the son

warnings: major character death, referenced assault and battery, religious themes, weird references to cumbia and salsa, basically just every warning related to the events of jason's death

it started as all rendezvous do. knowing glances, a delicate chase between tomcat and robin. a dare: catch me if you can. his partner slips out of the room unbeknownst to all except his target. the game is afoot.

they meet alone in a room. it starts with a dance. a cumbia variation. right step, left step. cross body lead. a slide to the left, a turn to the right.

“agua!” his partner cries in delight. their movements are a blur as he fights to keep control. hesitation, block, check. and then, a change of place. a change of pace.

time comes to a stand still. his head dips. he has been ensnared.

but what type of dance would it be without music? there’s not much to work with, so they improvise a duet. his partner provides the rhythm, and if done well, his jaybird rewards him with an “a” note. it’s syncopated.

clang, a-lang, a-lang, a—clang, a-lang, a-lang, AH—

but every cinderella’s evening must come to come to an end. and the clock is about to strike midnight.

                               before they part, he leaves him a small gift.

                                a gentle caress of the cheek, so he won’t

                                                             forget

                                                              their

                                                              time

                                       to                   gether.

                                        the            wound,

                                               it burns.

the spell is broken. it is 12 o’clock. and the jaybird is all alone.

12 is a funny number. it was the egyptians, who had first decided to split the night into 12 parts based on the 12 asterisms. it was caesar, who had ordered the creation of a 12 month calendar. it was jesus, who had 12 apostles before he was betrayed and that number became 11. and soon, the 12 seconds jason todd had left were about to become

11.

on good days, his mother (no that wasn’t right. his real mother was the unconscious woman the joker had left sitting across the room from him. his mother was the woman who had brought him into this world just so he could die for humanity’s sins. her included, for she too was only human) caretaker was atheist. it was only on the nights when the electricity bill had not been paid and the snow piled high on their window ledge, that she began to pray. a private mass, just the two of them. a confessional without a booth, a church without a father.

10.

he had thought she was silly then, all pressed up against the wall to steal the warmth from the next unit over as she preached of loving thy neighbour. they were bundled up in as many layers as they could wring out of the closet. under the last-washed-in-august comforter, he wore a puffer and under that, his sunday best. it was the warmest he had, all wool and short around the ankles, with a bulky security tag pressed against the small of his back. it was the only thing his father had ever left for him. he had hated her perpetual prayers that kept him from sleep. now, he longed for those days. at least then, he wouldn’t have died alone.

9.

our father, who art in heaven. did jesus pray like this too, when he was on the cross? did he ever curse the fact that even as he bled out, he could not say “my father”? for everybody is a child of god. even the prostitutes who sold themselves for a full stomach and a roof over their heads. even the criminals on either side of him, who committed sins much worse than telling the truth. even the very soldiers who had hung him there and pierced holes in him that would never mend. did jesus ever wonder why, out of all of god’s children, he had been the chosen one, born to die?

8.

he had always been taught that good things come to those who do good. he had always tried to do good by others. he had stopped his classmates from being bullied. he had fought that mugger who was about to take some old lady’s purse. he had tried to take down the joker all alone despite orders because he had wanted to save his mother. surely, those were all good actions. surely he was good.

7.

did jesus’ father ever take pity on him? god must have seen him bleeding out. even if he had accepted this fate, surely every parent’s instinct is to protect. the child’s role is to be foolish, and the parent’s role is to forgive. so surely, his own father could overlook this mistake one time. he would be rescued and they could pretend this was nothing more than a bad nightmare. but jesus hadn’t made it off his cross alive, had he?

6.

everything would be alright. his father wasn’t god. his father was batman. and batman would never let anybody die on his watch. hell, even if it was the joker locked up in here with the bomb about to go off, his father would probably save him too. god, though? god couldn’t even save his son.

5.

what was he worried about? his father would break through this door with a badass kick and save him just in the nick of time. that would show that stupid clown.

4.

any second now, his father would break through this door and save him in the nick of time.

3.

any second now, his father would come to save him.

2.

his father would come to save him.

1.

dad…save me

0.

.

.

.

they created a lovely tableau. a broken figure, no more human than he is alive, cradled in the lap of a parent he no longer fits into. mother and son, engraved in marble. father and son, covered in ash. time continues on its lumbering path, but a parent’s grief never changes.

[kathlare]

shifting focus

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: After a disappointing race in Belgium, Lando struggles with the weight of unmet expectations and the pressure of his performance. Alone in the airport lounge, he finds comfort in a heartfelt conversation with Amelie, who offers him support and perspective. Her words help him regain clarity, reminding him of the bigger picture and the importance of the journey over individual setbacks.

Wordcount: 1.5 k

Warnings: fluff

July 28th, 2024 - Spa, Belgium

Lando sat in the sleek, modern airport lounge, his back against the plush armchair, his fingers absentmindedly tapping the armrest. The hum of distant conversations and the clinking of coffee cups around him did little to mask the thoughts swirling in his head. He stared out the large windows, watching the planes taxiing across the tarmac, heading to destinations he couldn’t care less about at the moment. All he wanted was to escape the noise, to shut out the disappointment of the Belgian Grand Prix that had just ended.

He had started in P5, hopeful that this could be the race where McLaren could make a real impact, but a poor strategy, some bad timing, and the usual unpredictability of racing had seen him drop two places to finish in P7. It wasn’t the disaster some might expect, but to him, it felt like a failure—a missed opportunity. The weight of the result pressed on his chest, the frustration eating at him.

Lando’s phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking his thoughts. He pulled it out, his fingers still slightly stiff from the frustration of the race, and saw a text.

Max Fewtrell: You good, mate? Heard you’re pretty pissed about the race. If you wanna talk, I’m here.

He frowned, but didn’t reply. Max meant well, but he didn’t want to explain everything again. Everyone expected him to brush it off, to keep smiling, to pretend it didn’t matter. But it did. Every time he failed, every time he didn’t live up to the expectations, the criticism became louder, and the weight on his shoulders heavier.

He put the phone back in his pocket and leaned back into the chair, running his hand through his hair in frustration. It was becoming hard to push through the disappointment. His thoughts drifted to Amelie. She was still in Indianapolis filming, and he hadn’t been able to talk to her properly since he left for Belgium. He wanted to tell her how badly the race had gone, to vent—to get it all off his chest. But he didn’t want to burden her while she was busy.

Another buzz from his phone interrupted his thoughts.

Ames💛: I know you’re probably not feeling great, but talk to me? I’m here if you need me.

Lando’s heart skipped a beat at the message. Even though they were miles apart, her words always had a way of grounding him. He stared at the screen for a few seconds before replying, his fingers hesitant.

Lan🧡: It’s just one of those races, you know? I’m fine. Don’t want to drag you into it.

He stared at the message, waiting for her response, his thumb hovering over the send button. The words felt hollow even as he typed them. He wasn’t fine. He was far from it. But he didn’t want to let her see that.

A few moments passed, then the screen lit up with her reply.

Ames💛: You don’t have to pretend with me, Lando. I’m not going to judge you, just talk to me. Please?

Lando stared at her message for a long moment, his chest tightening as the weight of it all pressed in. He had become so used to putting on a brave face, to dealing with everything alone. It had become second nature to him, a protective mechanism to shield himself from vulnerability. But Amelie... she always saw through it.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, then typed back, his fingers more deliberate this time.

Lan🧡: Okay, I’ll call you. I don’t know why I keep trying to act like everything’s fine.

The phone rang almost immediately, and within seconds, her voice came through the speaker, warm and comforting despite the distance between them.

—Lando,— Amelie said, her tone soft but steady, —I’m here. What’s going on?—

He let out a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but the frustration bubbled up before he could hold it back. —It’s just... this race. I started P5, and I felt like we had a shot at something better. But it all just slipped away. Poor strategy, bad timing, and now I’m sitting here feeling like I failed.— His voice broke slightly, the words feeling heavier than he expected.

—Lando...— she whispered, her voice full of empathy. —You didn’t fail. It’s racing, babe. It’s unpredictable, and you gave it everything. Sometimes things don’t go the way you plan, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t try your best.—

He ran a hand through his hair again, staring at the floor. —I know. I just... I want to do better. For the team. For everyone who’s been supporting me. But it feels like every time I get close, something goes wrong.—

—I get it,— she said, her voice soothing. —It’s like you’re so close to the dream, but then it slips away, and it makes you feel like it’s not enough. But listen to me, Lando. You’re not defined by one race or one result. You’re so much more than that. You’re talented, you’re hardworking, and you’ve got a heart that cares about everything you do.—

The words made him feel a little lighter, but the doubt still gnawed at him. —I don’t know. Sometimes it just feels like I’m chasing something that’s always out of reach—

Amelie paused for a moment, and he could hear the sincerity in her voice when she spoke again. —Maybe it’s not about chasing perfection, Lando. Maybe it’s about chasing the journey. The progress. The little victories. You’re living your dream, and yeah, it’s hard sometimes, but that’s what makes it worth it. You’re not meant to have it all figured out.—

He leaned back in his chair, letting her words sink in. She always had this way of cutting through the noise and making him see things in a clearer light. His thoughts slowed as he listened to her, her voice the calm in the storm of his mind.

—You’re right,— he said quietly, a soft chuckle escaping him. —I get so caught up in the end goal that I forget to appreciate everything that’s led me here. You always know how to make me feel better, Ames.—

—That’s what I’m here for,— she said, her tone playful now. —You don’t have to carry all of it on your own, you know? We’re a team in this, just like you are with McLaren. Even when you’re far away, I’ve got your back.—

Lando smiled, feeling his mood start to lift. Her support was everything, and he knew it. —I don’t know what I’d do without you, seriously. But I’m glad we’re almost at the end of this week. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.—

Amelie’s voice softened, and Lando could practically hear her smile through the phone. —I can’t wait either. It feels like it’s been forever. I’m already counting down the hours until I get to see you, and then... Ibiza and Greece? I’m so excited for everything we’ve planned. It’s going to be perfect.—

He let out a sigh of relief, the weight on his chest finally starting to ease. —Yeah, I’ve been dreaming about that break. Sun, sea, and you. Sounds like everything I need right now.—

Amelie laughed, a sound that made his heart flutter even from across the world. —Well, I’d like to think I’m the highlight of the trip, but I’m sure the beaches will be nice too.—

Lando laughed, his mood lightening further. —Definitely you, Ames. You’re the best part of everything, always.—

Lando leaned back in his chair, the weight of the conversation sinking in. He had always been one to keep his struggles to himself, but there was something about Amelie that made it easy to open up, even when he didn’t want to. It wasn’t just the way she listened; it was how she understood him without him needing to say everything.

He could almost see her now, her warm smile lighting up her face, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

—You know what?— Lando said, a grin tugging at his lips. —After this race, I think I deserve a bit of a break, and you’re right... I can’t wait to just relax with you. Forget about all the racing stuff for a little while, just enjoy us being together.—

—Exactly, Lando,— Amelie replied, her voice soft but filled with anticipation. —You’ve been working so hard, and you deserve some time to just breathe. Plus, we’ve got a whole summer ahead of us. Just imagine... waking up in Ibiza, no schedules, no races, just us. It’s going to be amazing.—

Lando let out a contented sigh, the image of their upcoming trip settling in his mind. He could picture the two of them lying on the beach, laughing, enjoying each other’s company, free from the chaos of their busy lives. It was everything he needed after the grind of the season.

Lando sat up straighter in the chair, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing. For the first time today, he felt lighter, his frustration from the race beginning to slip away as the promise of tomorrow grew nearer.

Lando chuckled, a light sound that carried a sense of contentment. —You’re always so good at making everything feel better. I don’t know how you do it, but... I’m really grateful for you, Ames.—

—Well, you’ve got to give me some credit for being amazing, right?— she teased, her tone playful now. He could imagine her smiling as she spoke, the image making him feel even more connected to her despite the distance. —But seriously, Lando, you’ve got so much on your plate, and I just want you to know that I’m here for you. No matter what. You’re not alone in this.—

The words felt like a balm to his racing thoughts, and Lando took a deep breath, finally feeling like he could exhale fully. —I know. And I’ll never stop being thankful for that. You’ve been my rock, even from halfway across the world.—

There was a brief pause before Amelie spoke again, her voice soft and intimate. —I know it’s hard, but we’re in this together. Even when things get tough, we’ve got each other. And tomorrow... when I see you, everything will feel right again. I can’t wait to be in your arms.—

Lando’s smile widened at the thought, a genuine warmth filling him at the image of their reunion. —I can’t wait either. Just a few more hours, and I’ll finally get to hold you.—

—Every second of it.— She sighed softly, and he could almost feel the longing in her voice. —You’ll see. When I finally get there, we’ll make up for all the time we’ve missed. Ibiza, Greece... everything will be perfect. I just need you, Lando. That’s all I’ve been thinking about for days now.—

—Same here.— He leaned back in his chair again, his eyes closing for a moment as the weight of the conversation sank in. Everything felt right now. They were a team, no matter how far apart they were. He couldn’t wait for the chaos of the Grand Prix to end for a while, to step away from the pressure and focus on what mattered most—his love for Amelie.

—Tomorrow, then,— Lando said, his voice steady and filled with anticipation. —Tomorrow, we get to start our break, and it’s going to be everything we’ve dreamed of.—

—And I’ll be there, right by your side. No more distractions, just us. You’ll see.—

Lando smiled, his heart lighter than it had been all day. —I’ll hold you to that, Ames. I’ll see you soon.—

As they said their goodbyes, Lando finally felt a sense of peace. The disappointment of the Belgian Grand Prix still lingered in the back of his mind, but it no longer had the same weight. He had Amelie, and that was all that mattered. The world could wait—tomorrow, he would be with her, and everything would feel right again.

Lando stood up, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. The jet would be ready soon, and for the first time today, he was looking forward to going home. To Monaco. To her. Everything else could wait.

[rustedleopard]

I feel like if Chujin was still alive during the events of Undertale Yellow, his and Clover's relationship would be incredibly rocky. Pacifist!Clover could bring him around to tolerating them (after all, they have that sort of effect on everyone), but it would be more in a "this human is the only 'good' human" manner than a "maybe I should reevaluate my opinions on humans overall because you can't judge an entire group based off (very biased) stories and one bad experience." Even then, that opinion would be subject to change should Clover ever get frustrated or behave "too aggressively" or act in any manner that isn't perfectly docile. If Clover ends up attacking a monster then it's "humans are just as horrible as they were in the war stories, I should've known better" regardless of the circumstances that could've pushed Clover to fight. Suffocating expectations and endless demands for patience when he wouldn't ask the same of a fellow monster.

And heaven forbid he ever meet Clover on a No Mercy Run...

[icterid-rubus]

I agreed to meet up with someone for dinner and I just found out the whole polycule is coming.

[bigender-cowboy]

I just wanna hug my sister so bad dude im tweaking

[the-everqueen]

aous was...fine, imho, it was fine, but it was fundamentally white, middle-class british and i could accept that but i couldn't forgive it