#but you get it you see my vision right! wouldn't it be cool if someone finished this!

[gideonysis]

[kiriona wip (lesbian jesus give me strength to see it through)]

[singswan-springswan]

ficlet under the cut

The crate tipped with a sudden lurch and broke open on the ground. Zuko spilled unceremoniously with the motion. Inelegant. Graceless. Normally his movements held much more regality, but he'd been kidnapped and stuffed in a scratchy box and out of the water for some indeterminable length of days, so cutting himself some slack here felt appropriate.

It wasn't much brighter outside the stupid box. His scales were dry, his head was killing him, and the floor held a pleasant cool against his mounting fever. He really needed water soon. Every part of his body felt... scratchy. Discomfort would escalate into pain, and then asphyxiation. He would suffocate if he dried out. Idly, he wondered how long it would take. The humans seemed to know. They hadn't acted worried yet.

"Our latest bounty." The voice looming over Zuko was muffled in weird places. "I thought it might spark an interest. You collect fire fish, isn't that right?"

Zuko bit down a hazy groan and fumbled to prop himself up. The loss of the tile's cool against his cheek was one he mourned, but there would be time for relaxing when he found a way out of this mess. He could barely think straight. The humans—the pirates who'd ransomed him from the girl in blue—were standing guard around him now. He could see their boots. They were facing all the same direction, same way the voice was talking towards, and Zuko turned to observe.

The surrounding space was large, a room, and very dimly lit. This wouldn't normally be an issue, being that he was a mer, but his headache made his eyes lazy and bad at adjusting to the dark. If he squinted, he could see the ripple of light along the walls. Blue. Weird. In the direction of the pirates' attention, something like the outline of a table was visible—as large and imposing as the room itself. A single shadowy figure occupied a seat on the far side. He looked weird with the backlight. Zuko's vision was getting spotty.

He didn't get much chance to scan the rest of the surrounding space, because the pirate captain decided to be a jerk and grab his hair. It'd long since escaped its neat topknot, now bunching and sliding strangely in dry heat. The pain and the change in angle made Zuko rapidly lose sight of the shadow man.

"This one's quite a specimen." The pirate tilted Zuko's head back, baring his throat—maybe as a joke; it was always hard to tell if humans knew the significance of such a display—and lifted him enough to catch the light. So their potential buyer could get a better view.

Zuko would like to rip the pirate's skin off and feed it to him, but he was weak with dehydration, and his previous struggles against the man's crew had left him exhausted. All he managed was a low hiss. If humans could understand mer speech, he’d be cursing them as soundly as possible. Someone was standing on his tail. Not that it made much difference. He doubted he could have swung it if it wasn't pinned.

"I've seen a lot of the fire mer in my day, but this one's real pretty. Don't feel bad turning the offer down. We'll keep 'im if you won't." His crew laughed. Bastards. Zuko could hear the leer in the pirate's voice. It made him dizzy with anger.

Then a low grind echoed softly, and the humans cut their chatter short. Zuko distantly registered the shadow at the table moving. What made that noise? Was it his chair? He stood, rounded the massive table, and drew closer. All Zuko could see was a dark, unfocused blob. Vaguely humanoid.

"Yeah, don't be shy! Come get a closer look!"

The fist in his hair tightened. His scalp burned. The fins all down his back shuttered, and a stinging ache began to form in his gills. He needed water. He needed to get out of here. He shouldn't have wandered so close to the shore, even if that pretty girl in blue seemed so friendly at first glance. She did sell him out to these pirate scum. He should have known way better.

Even standing an arm's length away, the lighting continued to cast shadow on the pirate's potential client. It could be reasoned, then, that Zuko and the humans around him were washed in the room's best luminance. Certainly his scar could be seen clear as day. Maybe his tail was pretty, but there were parts of him imperfect. Maybe the stranger wouldn't want to buy him for that. Maybe Zuko would be stuck with these idiot pirates forever.

A smooth voice came from the stranger. "Release him."

"Sure, sure."

The pressure on Zuko's scalp vanished. He collapsed to the cool tile with no more grace than before, even further disoriented, and with a worse headache. He grit his teeth in frustration. That bastard was still on his tail.

Cool fingers tilted his chin up before he could lift his head on his own again; he hadn't seen the shadow man crouch down. Startled, Zuko yanked back and hissed a second time. He made sure to reveal far more fang and fan far wider with his fins; he just wanted these stupid humans to stop poking and grabbing him however often they pleased. Was that too much to ask? He wasn't an ornament. And he sure as heck had no intention of being a pet.

The stranger's face was close, and shadowy, and out of focus. Zuko's head was killing him. The room spun.

"The shape of the fins—” The stranger’s voice began.

“Really something, isn’t it? Never seen a mer so fancy before.”

There was a beat of silence, then the cool fingers returned to Zuko’s jaw and held him firmly in place. He growled. It didn’t make a difference. He was exhausted and hot and vulnerable, and everyone could tell. There was no way to stop them from doing as they pleased. 

“There’s a scar.”

“Wasn’t us, mate. Looks like the beast’s had it for a while. I think it adds to the aesthetic, don’t you agree?”

Zuko glared. It was the sort of one-sided remark he’d only accept from Uncle Iroh, though Azula had made attempts to express similar sentiments in that weird way of hers. He’d always hated the scar. At least the monster who put it there was dead now.

The stranger gave no comment. He reached another hand out and pushed Zuko’s hair aside, away from his eyes. Zuko did his best to meet the unfamiliar gaze as steadily as possible, despite the awkward backlight. He was being stared at. He refused to show how unnerved it made him. His trembling and fever didn’t help much in that regard.

Finally, after a dreadful length of scrutiny, the shadow man spoke. “How much do you want for him?”

Zuko could hear teeth in the pirate’s smile. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Ten-thousand.”

Zuko didn’t know how humans calculated their currency. He’d assumed mer in general to be expensive, but they called him a stupid something fire fish, and it sounded like exotic. Even so, the pirate captain seemed shocked. He let out a high chuckle.

“Well! Show me the gold and you’ve got yourself a deal!”

The stranger waved an uninterested hand over his shoulder, and another grinding sound reverberated through the floor. Zuko couldn’t see the source of the sound with multiple different shadows clouding his vision. Judging by the pirates’ hushed tithering, their payment had been offered.

“Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Zaheera will see you out.”

The group broke formation around Zuko and floated away, whispering excitedly. Though they’d been awful to him, he couldn’t help a flicker of fear at their absence. At least with the pirates, he knew they’d avoid causing permanent damage. He knew they’d want to sell him for the highest price possible. Now, he had no idea what to expect. This stranger could have any number of sinister plans in mind; Zuko had certainly heard the horror stories. All young mer were warned about the brutality of humans, and now he was at the mercy of someone who really wanted him. This was bad.

The stranger let him go, and the world tilted as Zuko crumpled. He was very dizzy. And angry. And he really wanted to sink his fangs into human flesh.

But when he turned (against his better judgment) to snap at his new captor, a firm hand was already pushing down the back of his neck. The same way one might handle an unruly pup. Zuko was too tired to be insulted by the gesture. He wasn’t a pup anymore, but a move like that with the human’s advantage was enough to subdue even a full-grown mer.

“Watch out with that one!” The pirate’s faint voice called back. “Quite a monster at full strength. He killed two of my men when we—”

“Get out.”

The heavy thud of the door confirmed their absence, though the human didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. He ducked another snap of Zuko’s teeth, and ignored his crackly snarl, and slid his arms beneath scratchy scales. The world tilted again. Zuko would consider puking if he wasn’t so close to blacking out. The human was carrying him. Impressive. Zuko was heavy outside the water. His fins trailed the floor as they moved, but he was very much in the air, solidly in the man’s grip. Almost cradled, even if he was too big for the pup-hold to have effect a second time. The use of such familiar techniques should have rung a bell in his mind. Zuko’s headache and exhaustion wouldn’t let him dwell on it.

After a dizzying stretch, something wonderful happened. Zuko heard water. The noise was still muffled, and it faltered clarity with every stray tilt of his head, but Zuko knew what water sounded like. He’d been fantasizing about it for the past few days.

There was a splash, and with distant elation, he felt his fins trail. He wasn’t lucid enough to hold back the happy trill.

“I know.” The man huffed, and it rumbled through his chest. “I know—those bastards.”

The water rushed up around him, deliciously cool, salty, clean. It took Zuko up to his gills to realize he’d been lowered into a pool of some kind. It was shallow, but not cramped. He drew a deep breath. That felt very nice. The hands were gone. 

He didn’t bother confirming he was alone before passing out soundly.

<~><><~>

Zuko was alone when he came to, and his headache had finally retreated to the realm of faint discomfort. Incredible what a good long sleep in water could do for one’s health. The pirates hadn’t put him in a tank. They were mad about what a fuss he caused the first time they brought him aboard, and they’d rightly concluded he’d be easier to handle if he was dehydrated and exhausted and dizzy. They’d doused him with lukewarm buckets every few hours, just to keep him from dying. Zuko was relieved to be back in water now. Even if trepidation about the uncertainty of his new circumstances wouldn’t let him relax.

The pool he’d been placed in was shallow; he couldn’t move without some part of his tail skimming the surface. It was still comfortable in spite of that. The edges spanned a decent length, so he could turn with ease, and the basin interior was cut from smooth, white stone. His fins shone stark against it. The pool itself seemed to be laid into the ground, flush.

Zuko scanned his surroundings while he waited for something to happen. He still seemed to be indoors. The walls here weren’t as high as the one from before—from the sale pitch—and most of them were made of a clear material. It shone with sunlight from outside. The rest of the space was occupied by greenery. The taller ones reaching the ceiling had been planted in beds in the ground, surrounded at the base with bushy, leafy shrubs, and brilliant flowers, and crawling vines. The faint sound of water also trickled through the maze, but Zuko couldn’t see the source of it from where he was. It was peaceful. Uncle would love this place.

But Zuko hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here, and he had no illusions about being treated fairly, even if he’d been left undisturbed in such a pleasant area. He had to keep his guard up. He was being held against his will. He was trapped on land with no way to escape or get home. He didn’t have much experience with humans, but so far they’d only beaten him, used him, or treated him like a pretty ornamental object, and he had no reason to believe this behavior would change soon. He had to be prepared for the worst.

In truth, he really wanted to murder someone. The urge had become so intense during his captivity with the pirates, and he hadn’t had a real outlet, being close to dying of dehydration. Now that he was rested, his jaw nearly ached to bite through bone.

He spent the time waiting for an opportunity by pacing around the pool. The space didn’t allow for much more than tight circles. Still, it was better than sitting around stewing in all his problems. 

Mother was probably worried by now. Him being an adult with a life of his own didn’t stop her from worrying that he wasn’t home every day. Azula didn’t feel the same. Azula would kill for him though; she’d done it before.

Eventually, after what seemed like an hour of thinking to himself and going crazy for it, the faintest vibrations thrummed through the water, and Zuko froze. Footsteps. Someone was approaching. 

He lifted his head above the surface. The sound drew closer, brushing through the plants with a practiced gait. Zuko coiled his body. There was deliberation in the person’s movement. They knew he was here. They were coming to see him. The likelihood that he’d be attacking an innocent servant or something alike was low, and that brought him a hint of reassurance.

When the human came into view, bathed in green filtered sunlight, stepping out to the pool’s edge, Zuko took an entire second to appraise the figure. Tall. Male. Dark hair, luxurious silk robes in green and pale yellow. When he spoke, it was the same smooth voice from the shadowy stranger that paid for him.

“Hello.”

Zuko didn’t wait any longer. He launched himself at the human with a vicious snarl. His vision was red. His heart was pounding. How dare they treat him with such contempt? He wasn’t some prized bounty. He wasn’t an ornament for some rich knave’s garden. He wouldn’t take this insult and abuse lying down, and if these humans continued to assume so, they were in for a shock.

To some degree of satisfaction, the man did seem shocked to be bowled over. The air left his lungs in a massive wheeze, and his eyes went very wide. He was also—however—quick. He reflexively shoved Zuko’s head away when Zuko tried to bite, and he managed to lurch free enough to dodge an elbow to the face. 

“Wait!” The man yelped.

But Zuko had a size advantage, and the man was on his back, and Zuko really wanted him dead. He slammed his shoulders into the grass, pinned his legs with his tail, made another attempt to remove the throat with his teeth. This time, the man brought his arm up in a hasty block. Zuko was too busy biting down to be upset he’d missed his target. Blood and the creak of bone filled his mouth.

There was a shout of pain. “Wait wait—Zuko, stop!”

The words pierced his hazy red anger like ice through fresh snow. Zuko froze. Even being slightly feral at the taste of blood and festered indignation, he rapidly came to his senses and dropped the arm. His mind spun. 

How did this man know his name? The pirates didn’t know. The pretty girl in blue didn’t know. And he wouldn’t be able to tell them if he wanted to (which he very much had not). It wasn’t a lucky guess. No one shared his name that he’d ever met. So why—how could a random human—

“Get off!” The human fumbled to shove Zuko’s face away. His sleeve was ruined, and rapidly turning red.

Zuko slowly obliged. The man didn’t seem angry. He only seemed annoyed, even as he bled profusely from an arm that might be broken. There was something unnervingly familiar about the twist of his scowl. He shuffled sideways and sat up.

“Spirits, kid, you’ve got a strong jaw.”

“I’m not—” Zuko cut himself off before he could complete the retort. The human wouldn’t understand him. The human knew he wasn’t a kid. Zuko was very obviously a full grown mer. 

“You could have let me explain myself before trying to kill me.” Why did his scowl look so familiar? The man untied a sash of his fancy outfit and wrapped his arm with clinical efficiency. Then he looked up to meet Zuko’s eye, and his scowl faltered. “Are you okay?”

What.

Zuko stared. Was he seriously… asking if Zuko was okay? There was blood in the grass and in his robes and he might have a concussion and his ribs might be bruised and Zuko would at worst have a sore jaw. He shifted back warily. In his experience, crazy men often did cruel things. 

When he made no move to respond, the man sighed roughly and looked away. “Guess I should have waited on that tea. Zaheera will be by with some shortly.”

“What?”

What on earth was he talking about? Tea? Of all things? How did he know Zuko’s name and why was he so relaxed about the bite on his arm and why did the slope of his nose look so familiar and why was he talking about tea in the blood and the grass?

“You were always more civil with it around.”

Okay, now Zuko was thoroughly weirded out. He wished he had an exit. An escape route. He was stuck on land in an unfamiliar house and the closest thing he had to sanctuary was a fake pool of water barely deep enough to sleep in. This was freaking him out just the slightest.

“You’re nuts.” He said. Just to say it. The man wouldn’t understand the words or the insult in them, but Zuko was sick of just sitting around not saying anything, waiting for stupid humans to come to the right conclusions.

For his effort, he was rewarded with the faintest thaw of the man’s grumpy expression. It looked amused somehow. “And why is that?” He asked.

What.

A trace of alarm made Zuko flinch. “...Because you’re… talking to me.” He probed. Just to see. Humans weren’t supposed to understand.

“Why would that make me crazy? You’re real, aren’t you?” He glanced at his sleeve, now mostly red. “I’m pretty sure you are.”

Zuko blanched. He considered backing away, back into the pool. The safety it offered was purely psychological, but it would be something at least. It’d be better than lying vulnerable on the ground next to a crazy person. His fins twitched.

“What—but—you understand me?”

“Of course.”

“But humans aren’t supposed to understand.” From what he’d heard, humans interpreted mer speech as primitive and animalistic: nothing more than a series of harsh vocalizations strung together. Zuko had demanded an explanation for the phenomenon when he was younger. After all, mer understood human speech just fine. No one was able to give him a satisfactory answer.

“Well, I’m not human.” The human said. “Technically.”

“Then what are you?” Possibly a witch? Zuko had heard of their strange abilities. Or maybe he was a spirit. In which case Zuko was screwed. He probably couldn’t get away with attempted murder on a spirit; he’d totally be cursed or something. It could also be a shapeshifter of sorts, from the myths.

But the man quickly dispelled any outlandish theories. For the first time that Zuko had seen, a flicker of hurt crossed his features. It made him look older than he likely was. Haunted.

“Wow Zuzu, you don’t remember your favorite cousin?”

No.

No, he definitely didn’t mean that. Zuko didn’t have any cousins. Not for eleven years. And there’d only been—one. Just one. Now there weren’t any.

But looking closer, Zuko could see why the scowl looked so familiar. He saw the same face in the mirror. And this man wasn’t human, clearly, even if he had legs in place of a red streaming tail. In place of the gold ribbon fins their family shared—that he must have recognized when he first saw Zuko. 

He knew Zuko’s name. Zuzu. Azula tried to call him that—maybe out of nostalgia—but it belonged to them both, and Zuko hated to hear her say it because there was only one person who tried to bring them together like that, and hearing her say it reminded him of… of… a dead man.

Except he couldn’t be dead. He was right here. His blood tasted very real.

“Lu Ten?”

He looked so much like his father when he smiled. “Yeah.”

Zuko gaped. That felt like the only appropriate thing to do. Maybe the dehydration actually got to him, and this whole series of events was an elaborate hallucination. Maybe Azula spiked his tea with a psychedelic for her weird sense of humor, and he was hallucinating. It was too strange. This didn’t make any sense. Zuko’s cousin was dead, and if he wasn’t, wouldn’t Uncle know? Would Uncle have cried so hard so many private times if this was real? It felt so real.

“How did you get that scar?”

“How are you not dead?” Zuko’s head was spinning, though thankfully not from dehydration. He wasn’t sure if this was worse, actually. “Uncle thinks you’re dead.”

The comment earned him a flinch. “There’s actually a good explanation for that.”

“Which is?”

“I’m cursed.” Lu Ten squinted into the middle distance, looking uncomfortably close to being emotional. “To live as a human. And I can’t… go near the sea. I tried. It almost turned me into sea foam.”

Zuko dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

[oepionie]

THE WOES OF A JEALOUS FISH. octatrio

Characters: GN! Reader | Azul Ashengrotto x Reader, Jade Leech x Reader, Floyd Leech x Reader

Tags: Octatrio and jealousy, Pure fluff w/ very petty boys, Reader wears makeup in Azul's part, Jade blows a hairdryer in Floyd's face, Malewife Floyd

WordCount: 1.5k+ | 💌Masterlist

A.A | AZUL ASHENGROTTO :

Azul blinks once, twice as he stares at the merman who was animatedly conversing with you. Rielle, Azul's old schoolmate, a prince of Atlantica, and the owner of this wretched cafe called 'The Secret Grotto'. The same cafe you've been ogling at for the last 20 minutes or so.

"Isn't this place amazing, Azul?! They even have a souvenir shop!" Now, Azul would normally find your eagerness adorable since seeing you happy was oh-so precious and priceless to him. However, this time, your enthusiasm made his heart sink while his mood deteriorated. On the surface, however, he keeps his calm and maintains his professional businessman persona, or at least he tries to.

"Monstro Lounge is far more superior. I mean...th-their cutlery doesn't even match their tablecloths here." Azul blurted out, crossing his arms over his chest and scrutinising the area intently.

"Well, we wanted to add a little bit of uniqueness! My cafe is all about personal touches, we focus more on making things look cozy!" Rielle chimes in, all bright and charming, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Azul narrowed his eyes, his hands itching to sever the prince's arm for touching you. Oblivious to Azul's ire, you stared at the cafe in awe, pointing out the small touches thrown about here and there.

Azul frowns, sulking and wanting to leave. He wanted to leave the moment he stepped into this place but he didn't have the heart to tear you away from the cozy small cafe. Especially since you were looking forward to this date for weeks, you even got Vil to doll you up and do your makeup today.

Deep down inside he felt a tinge of insecurity because he knew you were right. The cafe really was amazing. The grove was lit up with warm lighting, and everywhere you looked was all soft and homely. Unlike Azul's cafe, this place was much less formal making it seem more down to earth.

Perhaps he should make a few tweaks to Monstro Lounge? Just to fit your tastes?

"Angelfish, I'd hate to break it to you but it's getting rather late. I'm sure Jade and Floyd are already waiting for us back at the dorms." Azul cuts in nonchalantly, a cool smile on his face. You turned to gaze out the window, seeing the sunset and the sky darkening. You nod and swiftly seize Azul's gloved hand in your own, bidding Rielle goodbye.

"Ah, I see it really is getting quite late! Feel free to visit soon!" Rielle bids you goodbye with those words, as you and Azul walk out of the quaint little cafe.

Once outside, Azul reflexively rests his hand on the small of your back, and you lean in, your head resting on his chest. It was silent for a while, both of you just enjoying the comfortable silence before Azul pulled you into an alley.

"Azul? Is something wrong-" He abruptly interrupted you and smashed his lips against yours. Azul backed you up against the wall, his hands finding purchase around your waist as you snake your arms around his neck. Minutes pass before he finally draws back and presses his forehead to yours, a heavy flush on his cheeks. You took this time to admire his dishevelled appearance, which was quite a rare sight. His glasses were crooked, the lipstick Vil picked out for you was smeared across his lips, and his vision was dazed.

"Angelfish...wouldn't you rather spend time with me instead...?"

J.L | JADE LEECH :

He's in absolute denial.

Jealousy. What use would such petty and trivial emotion as jealousy serve? Jade already knew you were bound to him. Despite his distant and cold demeanour, you somehow pushed your way into his heart and fashioned yourself a nice little home.

Furthermore, Jade liked to consider himself as someone who was rational and level-headed. He was always in full command of every situation he was put in. The eel was cruel, merciless, and uncompromising. Him getting jealous? Jade Leech, jealous? It was a laughable thought.

Nonetheless, as he stood behind the lounge's bar, he couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart while he glared holes into the back of Floyd's head. His gloved hands were grasping onto a teacup a little too tightly. He was supposed to serve you tea.

Tea, that he brewed and prepared personally for you, ensuring that each step was meticulous and precise so that the drink was properly suited to your preferences. You, his precious pearl, who was too preoccupied running your fingers through his brother's hair.

The lounge's air conditioning had broken down, and at some point, Floyd apparently decided that it was far too hot and dumped an entire cold smoothie over his head. Now, you were fussing over the eel's damp hair, trying to get the liquid and chunks of fruit out of his locs.

Crack! Jade looked down to see the cup split in half, the warm tea he prepared for you now spilling onto the floor. Azul would've probably had his hind if he found out the eel broke such an expensive and delicate piece of china. Despite that, he had a much pressing issue to focus on. Jade's inexhaustible patience had finally run out, and he concluded that enough was enough.

He quickly poured you a new cup and walked up to the booth you were sitting in. He held a hair dryer in his left hand and the tea he had carefully made for you in his right. Finally, you had stopped fretting over Floyd and instead focused your attention on him. When you spotted him approaching, your face lit up. A smile grazed his lips for a brief moment. How lovely you were.

"Darling, why don't you take a break. Here, it's your favorite. Let me handle this." Jade murmured, running a gloved hand along your cheek. You leaned towards his touch, smiling, and took the cup from him. "Thank you, Jade. I managed to get most of the fruits out but his hair is still so wet."

"Not to worry my pearl, this isn't the first time this happened." With a chuckle, Jade plugged in the hair dryer and grabbed Floyd's chin, forcing his brother to face him.

"Now...allow let me help you, brother dearest." Jade muttered, the corner of his eyes crinkling as a sharp grin spread across his face. He set the dryer to the highest setting and directed it straight at Floyd's face. When the heavy gust of wind hit Floyd, the eel clamped his eyes tight. He whined and attempted to push Jade away, but the latter just refused to let go.

Yes, Jade is most definitely not a jealous man.

F.L | FLOYD LEECH :

That should have been him. The eel glared at Grim who was seated in your lap. Your lap that he loved so much. Your lap that he used as a pillow every time he was slacking off at Monstro Lounge. Your lap that was supposed to be for him, not that skrunkly little cat.

To make matters worse, you were currently feeding Grim some tuna you cooked up yourself. Oh, the nightmare.

The reason? Grim had recently scored a perfect score on his exam without cheating this time! and you wanted to reward your companion for his efforts. Still, Floyd couldn't understand why you had to feed him. Isn't the baby seal big enough to feed himself? He was pretty sure he saw Grim inhale an entire tray full of food in seconds!

Growling, Floyd stomped towards your table and plopped down beside you. He huffed and started side-eyeing the cat who was dozing off and slowly chewing the tuna in his mouth. To Floyd's despair, you were much too preoccupied with fawning and cooing at the tiny brat to notice your moody lover. This was absolutely unacceptable. He demanded your attention.

"Shrimppyyy..." Floyd whined, smushing his cheek against yours, basically asking for attention. Taken aback, you jumped and whipped your head around to face him, finally acknowledging his presence.

"Floyd! How are you? How'd that test with Crewel go?" You smiled at him and moved in to peck both of his cheeks. This made him brighten up for a bit before Grim interrupted the moment.

"Oi, henchhuman, I'm out of tuna here." Grim drawled, patting his paws along your arms. Sighing, you picked up your utensil and turned away from Floyd. However, before you could bring the spoon anywhere near the container with Grim's food, Floyd's hand snatched the utensil away from you.

"Floyd, what are you-" You were cut off when he pushed a bento box towards you.

"Shrimpyy~ You gotta eat! I cooked that myself y'know." He beamed at you, draping his long arms over your shoulders. You opened the lid and gasped at contents of the meal inside. Floyd had made a Butter Salmon Bento, and you'd be damned if you didn't think it looked good. "Floyd, this is incredible...thank you very much!"

"Of course~ Here, I'll handle the baby seal for you." Before you could even say anything, he snatched Grim from your lap and tossed the cat onto the table in front of him.

"I'll even feed him for you!" Floyd laughed and took some tuna, pressing it forcefully on Grim's mouth. Grim, understandably, was reluctant to open his mouth. Floyd, on the other hand, was not about to give up so easily.

The eel hummed and leaned forward, gritting his sharp teeth as a deranged smile grew across his face.

"What's wrong baby seal? Eat it." Floyd hissed, malice oozing from his lips. Grim flinched and decided to just bolt, taking the tuna with him. "Like hell I'm doing that!"

Grim scutters away as you watch with a sheepish smile on your face. Floyd laughed contentedly and sprawled across your lap, staring up at you in adoration, his mission finally accomplished.

"Hehe~ Will you feed me next, shrimppy~?"

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

[thepenguinweeb]

`` Just close your pretty little eyes and you won't feel a thing. ``

[ ☆ Yandere!Fyodor x ADA!reader ]

[ ☆ In the wild chase the search for Fyodor Dostoevsky proved to be, you get separated from your partners and end up face to face with the man himself. Even though his face is new for you, unbeknownst to you, he'd made himself quite familiar with yours. ]

You ran trough the halls, ready to fight at any given moment. You thought you managed to sneak into the supposed base very well - Fyodor could sense that as he watched you trough his screens.

He'd been doing that for some time. He had cameras watching everywhere you went, so he could spend every waking moment with you. He knew everything about you at this point, and he planned to use all that knowledge.

And now he watched as you, Atsushi and Akutagawa got separated. It was all part of his plan, of course. He decided he wanted to see you in person as soon as possible, and while he originally didn't want to come to this place himself, he did it for you.

Trough small, almost unnoticable signs he guided you ever-so-closely to the room he currently occupied.

Then, he heard the door open.

Cautiously, you took a few steps inside. It didn't take long before you felt an arm circle around your neck.

"Atsu-!!" You tried to call out to your friend before you were silenced by a hand covering your mouth.

"Shh..." Fyodor whispered into your ear. "It won't hurt. Just close your pretty little eyes, and you won't feel a thing."

When you gained conciousness again, you found yourself in an unknown room. It was decorated quite fancily, and the lighting made it seem cozy enough - or, it would've, if you didn't feel something tie you down to a chair.

"Ah.. you're awake, моя любовь."

You turned your head to see a man who you presumed to be Fyodor, based on his russian accent and words. He was cutting up apple slices with an eerily calm grin, considering he had someone tied up in his room.

"Let me go," you demanded, skipping the questions and getting straight to the point. You guessed he probably wouldn't want to answer.

He looked at you with an almost surprised expression - though, his eyes were a labyrinth of emptiness, giving away none of his feelings.

"Let you go?" He repeated. "Nobody is stopping you from leaving. Though.." his voice lowered, which sent you shivers down your spine. "You should be aware of the consequences."

Your eyes widened as you tried to understand. What could these consequences be? But, as if sensing your confusion, Fyodor went on.

"That Atsushi boy," he said. "He means quite a lot to you, yes? That bracelet on your right hand is from him, hm?"

You were shocked at how spot on he was. But how could he know so much, when you've only just met him? It didn't make sense!

"Well, whatever the case," he continued on as you didn't reply and glanced at you while holding the knife close to him. "I imagine you would be quite angry if something were to happen to him."

"What did you do to him?"

Fyodor let out a chuckle at how protective you sounded. "Nothing. Not yet."

You were about to retort when things clicked in your mind. He was using Atsushi to get you to stay with him.. what a sicko.

He put down the knife and walked towards you, an apple in one hand. He stopped in front of you and leaned down to cup your cheek in his free hand.

"So," he continued with a grin. "I would suggest you stay with me, if you worry about that boy's safety."

Not knowing what else to do, you nodded in compliance. He held out the apple for you, but given your hands were tied, you took a bite without them.

"Oh, look at you," he whispered. Soon, your vision had started to get blurrier and blurrier, until your head slumped down and you fell unconcious once more.

"Rest now, little detective," he said, planting a kiss on your head. "It seems I was able to catch you first."

A/N: Fyodor woohoo!! Sorry for all the bsd content yall but it's literally my fav anime. I love this man, he's so cool, and he'd be such a creepy and terrifying yandere.

Dividers by @/rookthornesartistry, ty!!

[hertenskylarks]

More 2 Cents on S3

So, I know there’s already a lot of talk going around. Here’s my 2 cents. 

In light of the recent news, I keep hearing a lot of “Oh, I hope the third season doesn’t get canceled,” and “Oh, I hope it does. Fuck Gaiman,” and “Oh, what about Terry’s vision? What about the fans? What about closure?”

I have absolutely zero control as to whether or not season 3 is made. Many arguments for and against it have already been made. I don't want to beat a dead horse, but I will offer this perspective from my own personal experience. 

I’m a swing dancer, and my rapist was my teacher and one of the first people who ever taught me how to dance. One of the things that made me hesitant to come forward was that he was one of the most likable characters in my scene. He was the funny, goofy guy who wore funky printed shirts, he was sooo nice, he couldn’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

Seeing people praise him, hearing people talk about how great he is when I knew what he did to me… It drove me absolutely mad. I just wanted to shake people and say, “No, you don’t understand! You don’t understand who he is!” But I felt like I just couldn't. I felt his reputation was too iron-clad to say anything.

Coming forward was one of the scariest things I ever did because I was so sure people either wouldn't believe me or wouldn't care. And, as predicted, that was the case for some. You can only imagine how I felt when someone I used to call my friend went on to have him officiate her wedding. You can only imagine how I felt when the response from the organizers of the dance scene was to ask me to avoid mentioning Y-Town Swing in social media posts (Oops) to protect their reputation. You can only imagine how I felt when they continued to have him as a teacher, or when they updated their safe space policy to say they are not responsible for anything that happens “outside a Y-Town swing event.” 

Oh, so if he raped me in the bathroom at the event instead it would have made a difference? Right, sorry, didn't realize the location or a rape mattered that much.

Anyway…

This was all in the confines of a small dance scene, in a small city, in a very niche hobby. Now, imagine how it must feel when your rapist and abuser is a fucking best selling author, praised as this ally to women and LGBT people, he’s the quirky guy who has a Tumblr and actually responds to his fans and he’s so cool, he’s one of us, he can’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

I can only imagine how fucking mad it drove his victims to know who he really is and see him put on such a high pedestal. 

So, however this all unfolds, I will say this. The people I care about most are the victims. I say this as someone who loved and still loves Good Omens, I say this as someone who was torn up about the final 15, as someone who rejoiced when S3 was originally announced, before all the allegations came to light. I care about the victims. 

But what about the fans? Listen, it’s a fucking TV show. Do you really mean to tell me the ending of a fictional fucking story is more important than the very real people he’s hurt? Not having an ending to your favorite show does not hold a candle to the trauma of being sexually assaulted. There’s no comparison. Not in the same ballpark. Not even in the same galaxy. 

But what about Terry?

Terry is dead and in his grave. I am sorry to say this, but whether his vision comes to life or not, he will never be the wiser. It makes no difference to him. If I could wave my magic wand and have Terry alive and well and Gaiman dead and in his grave, believe me, I definitely would, but that is not the hand we were dealt. 

So please, all I ask is this. Before you go spouting shit like, “I hope we don’t lose S3,” or “I just need to know how it ends,” put yourself in their shoes for just a second.

Imagine you are Claire, or Scarlett, or any of his other victims. Imagine you are sexually assaulted by someone whom the world just puts on a pedestal. You have to sit there and listen to him get praised as being “such a great ally to women and minorities” and “he’s one of us,” and “he’s so brilliant. He’s so cool. He really listens to his fans. Look at this quote of his I got tattooed on my body.” And for years you just sit there and take it, because you’re so fucking afraid that no one will believe you if you come forward, you’re told your story “isn’t enough,” you watch him get richer and richer while you’re stuck with the therapy bill for everyting this “great ally of women” did to you. 

Now imagine that you finally come forward. You finally muster up the will to speak your truth, and tell people what he did to you, and you find that you’re not the only person he’s hurt. The world is finally hearing your story and learning what a manipulative monster he is. 

And now, I want you to think very carefully about what it means if we still get S3. 

S3 means press tours. It means more reviews praising him as a genius. It means certain people being contractually obligated to say nice things about him, or at the very least, not say negative things about him. It means, once again, seeing his fucking horse face or his name everywhere, on Amazon, on billboards, on busses, on posters, in adverts. Only now, it's AFTER the world heard your side of the story.

Just imagine how that would feel. 

So, if it wasn't obvious by now, my stance on S3 is… I don't really want it to happen. Not out of spite or some deep seated hatred for Gaiman (although, ya know, fuck that guy) but out of consideration for the people he's hurt, as someone who knows exactly how it feels to see the person who hurt you get put on a pedestal. 

I understand that production is paused and people think he may be getting removed from the project. I'm not going to comment on that because "paused” can mean a lot of things and there's so much we don't know yet.

There will be other shows. 

There will be shows that DO have satisfying endings. 

Media and shows can be replaced. 

But there is no such thing as being un-raped. 

[rekino2114]

Fem. Gojo showing you her domain

You were lying on your bed mindlessly watching videos until you heard a tap on your window. You went in front of it, readying your cursed technique in case it was an enemy. After what happened with toji you were not going to take any more chances. You were very relieved to see it was just your girlfriend. You opened the window and let her come in

"Oh, satori, what are you doing here?"

"What? Can't a girl visit her boyfriend once in a while?"

"I meant why were you outside my window?"

"Your dorm is on the second floor, and I just got back from a training session. No way I'm gonna do all those stairs"

"It's like two flights, and you thought floating was easier?"

"Hey I got my technique I'm gonna use it"

"Whatever, anyway so why did you wanna visit?"

"Oh yeah, I got something super cool to show you"

She smiled brightly and pointed at herself in a dramatic manner

"Guess who just perfected her domain expansion?"

"....For real?"

"For real real, it took training and a lot of mochis to power up but I finally did it"

"That's so cool, tori. domain expansions are the peak of jujutsu, I'm so proud of you"

"Well, of course I'd be able to do it sooner or later, I am the strongest after all but thanks for the praise"

"Don't mention it"

"Soooo are you ready to see it or what?"

"Won't it hurt me?"

"Nah, it's a non lethal domain.......kinda"

"....that's not really reassuring"

"Come on, don't you trust me? It's beautiful to look at, it's gonna be a nice date place"

"*sighs* fine but if I die my ghost will haunt you forever"

"Don't worry, I'll never let anything happen to you"

You were slightly taken aback by her serious tone, but she quickly went back to her silly self as she smiled again, put her hands together, and disappeared, you sighed and waited for a few seconds before she reappeared with an embarrassed expression on her face

"S-sorry, I forgot you can't-"

"It's fine let's just go"

You went outside (using the door this time), and in the courtyard, gojo stood near you and held your hand

"You gotta keep holding my hand. If you don't, then you might be in a coma for a couple of months k?"

".....what?"

"Don't worry, it'll be fine. You can hug me if you're really worried, I certainly wouldn't complain~"

"*sighs* just get on with it"

She smiled again and took off her shades, revealing the blue eyes you loved to stare at, put them in her pockets, and did her domain hand sign with her free hand.

"Domain expansion: infinite void"

Suddenly, black filled your vision as you got transported into her domain, an endless plane of black with white spots, satori's grip on you tightened as she looked back at you

"Soooo what do you think? Pretty nice to look at isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's beautiful, but I guess it was guaranteed that a beautiful girl like you would have a beautiful domain"

"Eh, such a charmer. You're gonna make me blush if you continue"

You sat down, and she did the same. Her hand made its way up your body until it reached your shoulder. She pulled you into a side hug and layed her head on your shoulder

"You know I love you right?"

"Yeah you tell me that every day"

"No, I mean like love, love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me"

"*giggle* really? The great satori gojo loves me this much? I'm honored"

"You should be, but seriously, after geto left, you're the only person I have left. Sure, I have shoko, but to be honest, I don't think she cares that much about me. Even if she did, she can't really understand me.....sometimes I feel so...lonely"

You silently side hugged her back as you saw her blue eyes become slightly lucid while looking around

"I guess it's fitting that my domain is a big empty void cause that's where I feel like I'm in sometimes........"

"Except when I'm with you of course"

You turned to see her smiling brightly and staring at you lovingly

"You're what keeps me going. You're someone that i know will never leave me. i love you so much"

"I love you too"

You two kissed passionately and looked at each other with pure love

"Alright, I think that was enough. If I keep my domain going for longer, I might get tired, I'll undo it now"

She did as she said and put her shades back on

"How about we go out to eat? It's almost dinnertime and there's a really good spot around here"

"Sure if we bring megumi and tsumiki too"

"Uh?..........dammit I forgot about them....do you think they'll be mad at me?"

"*sighs* you're such a mess of a mom, we can buy them some toys on the way home, maybe they'll forgive you then"

"Great idea, you're a life saver babe"

"It's nothing. Let's just go"

She dragged around as you brought the toys and food for your adopted children.

No matter what happened, you would stick by gojo's side, and she would, of course, do the same

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin Episode 4: Cent'anni Breakdown

She goes through all these different levels of all these different personas: excellent daughter, overachiever, and this horrific feral state in Arkham. And it's not until the yellow dress that she finds the one that fits.

Kind of like sharks can't stop moving or they sink. It's that relentless pursuit of justice.

This changes her forever. She never comes back. Something so much bigger than her takes over in order to survive - Cristin Milioti

This was pointed out to me by my friend and, show of hands everyone, who else thinks it's unbelievably fucking sick that it is Sofia who gets to show up at the Falcone dinner table, wearing a thematically appropriate embodiment of her childhood trauma, and do a "None of you are safe" speech?

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3)

It probably felt odd to spend time with Sofia when we’re in a show called The Penguin. But I think it’s just as important so you can understand Oz psychologically. Even though I don’t view Oz as a hero or a villain, he is a greater villain in the show than anyone else. And for you to feel that way, I think you have to understand his primary antagonist more. And that’s Sofia.” - Lauren LeFranc

I gotta say I'm generally not enthusiastic about Penguin being depicted as overtly disgusting, like drooling and eating raw fish and all that Burton stuff (actually I do think the black bile is cool, but only so far as as that version goes), but for that opening scene, that was a spectacularly well-placed bit of grossness. Like this sheer craven animalistic ugliness of DeVito's Penguin descending for a second to show us how Sofia sees Oz, and even how right she is to do so at the moment because holy shit hahahahahaha

From what we can see of Sofia's pre-Arkham life, she was basically the Meadow Soprano of the family: The smart, overachieving golden child, whose social standing and eligitibility for leadership wouldn't even be up for debate if she was born a man like her loser brother (love AJ, relate uncomfortably to AJ, he's not at all morally comparable to Alberto, but he is very much a loser). Socially conscious and sticking up for victims but only if you don't poke too closely at her victim-generating family business, aware of some things but willfully blind to her own hypocrisy and insistent that daddy is still in average a good man who isn't as bad as people around her may say he is. I'd even say that the Sofia we see here is a more moral person than Meadow, although obviously being the daughter of Carmine Falcone is a much scarier, more isolating and horrific prospect than growing up the daughter of Tony Soprano (the ways in which the two Sopranos kids diverged and majorly prefigured American socio-political developments that kicked off after the show is a topic for another post).

(Also, I don't really want to bring up Sopranos comparisons because the shows are similar, they're really not, but I finished The Sopranos yesterday so they're gonna come up still)

I think Mark Strong does a really good job here filling in for John Turturro's role, even if he's not quite as good in it as Turturro. I think he plays the character differently in a way that works really well for this being a past version of Carmine, filtered through Sofia's vision. He is imposing and quiet and mighty, a lone titan of unquestionable power over the entire world, not even remotely someone to be defied or displeased. Turturro's Falcone was charismatic and affable and oozing with unspeakable yet casual cruelty, and I would have liked that here, but I like the idea that we're seeing a Carmine from before he was invincible, when he still needed Sofia to help him get Congressman Hill on the phone and still worried about the future of the family at Alberto's hands, a Carmine from when the Maronis were still around and he wasn't the sole ruling power in Gotham, who could still possibly lose even without vigilante intervention.

He is larger, more imposing, a stern and stoic father who had little use for pleasantries, and with no mirth to be had at the expense of the little people who think they can do anything against him that matters, even if he is getting there. I think the difference here adds a nice little arc to Carmine: there was a time where he needed to keep up appearences, there was a time where he raised his voice above a whisper to get things done, and there was a time where he wasn't the real mayor of Gotham. There was a time where he was a "proper" Don, when he acted like his comics counterpart, and none of that really became necessary over the following decade, when he grew more and more invincible and isolated and comfortable in this nightmare he made the city into.

They also confirm here that apparently the Iceberg Lounge/44 Below existed way back when Oz was just Sofia's driver, and it was already Carmine's prostitute slaughterhouse even then and Alberto knew about it. Possibly explains why Oz was handed the club in the first place, because the Falcones already called him Sofia's penguin and putting The Penguin in charge of the Iceberg Lounge would fit their idea of a laugh (and given how much Oz hates being called Penguin, he would hardly come up with the name himself)

Lmao, those dog comparisons I keep making really don't stop justifying themselves.

Credit again to Mike Marino and the prosthetics team for this younger Oz make-up, he strikes a very nice middleground between current Oz and the one we see as a kid.

Really like what we see of Sofia and Oz's dynamic here, again reinforcing that for all intents and purposes he was the sidekick in her HBO protagonist life. We see how Sofia likes his company and how she even kinda defends him from the family, but she really cannot bring herself to respect him very much and disdains him from the same very upper-class perspective the rest of the family does, she's just nicer about it. And in turn we see parts of where Oz's resentment to her comes from, and also the extent to which Oz was always lying in wait for an opportunity to get ahead regardless of her, his justified grievances as well as him being a conniving fuck. The really thin line this treads though, is that it establishes that neither of them were lying about how they meant something to each other, even if it doesn't help.

Sofia did have her life ruined partially because of Oz, she did endure horrific things while he got a promotion because he ratted her out to Carmine, and he very much did in part because he wanted to get ahead and saw an opportunity to do so. But also, Oz genuinely had no idea that this is what Carmine would do, and I think in large part this was also about keeping himself safe. It's not even that unbelievable that he was genuinely looking out for her, because holy shit you do not talk to the press about Carmine Falcone, daughter or not, and he tried warning her in the car before she rebuffed him and insulted him pretty deep for good measure. If Sofia talked to the press and would not stop talking (since he didn't know in the car that she rebuffed Gleeson) and shit started happening because of her snooping around, he would have absolutely gotten punished/murdered for it, it is not at all a stretch to assume that Carmine would have done something to Oz as punishment to Sofia.

Oz didn't plan any kind of misfortune, at no point did he mastermind her admission into Arkham (or even help keep her there with the letters, like the rest of the family), he just told Carmine something he shouldn't have, and neither of them expected anything too terrible was gonna come out of it. They both wildly underestimated what a complete scumbag Carmine is, but with Carmine (and the others) gone, there's nobody else to turn those grievances to.

Even if Oz could claim deniability for the Arkham thing, which he kinda can't but Sofia even tried to grant him anyway, he sure as shit can't for everything else he does in the opening minutes.

Oh hey it's Mr Mustache With The Broken Nose.

A thing that came to mind when I was watching the episode was the story of Rosemary Kennedy, JFK's sister whose father arranged for her to be institutionalized and lobotomized at age 23 as a reponse to "difficult" behavior. I'm not recounting it in more detail here because the rest of it is just too horrific, look it up yourself if you're curious. I remembered it because reading about Rosemary Kennedy ruined my fucking day and it still pumps up the breaks in my train of thought every now and then, so it came to mind watching this story about a young woman horrifically institutionalized and butchered for the sake of her wealthy family's image. Later I heard the podcast, and turns out that actually was exactly what Lauren LeFranc based Sofia's story on, which was nice. I'm glad it also fucks Lauren LeFranc up and that we both agree she should have gotten to wreak revenge on the entire family over it, thank you Penguin Show that continues to be made for me, this was nice.

Oh hey, Magpie. Just the name, yeah, but that was another nice surprise. I used to have a bit of a soft spot for Magpie, occasionally I thought there was something to get out of her and Penguin together, so a part of me likes that they put Magpie in The Penguin show even if just in name. Yes, she only exists to be annoying and die, but that's what she already tends to do anyway. And y'know, much as I may like her, she is still a John Byrne character, so she doesn't really deserve much more than that

Jesus Christ this episode gets uncomfortable.

I like that this establishes that Julian Rush kinda did make an effort to help her and kinda felt bad about it, but not nearly enough, and that he is very much a complicit contemptible creep who has it coming as much as any of the people who put Sofia in there.

Cannot state enough how much I appreciate that they didn't put any actual named Batman villains in the Arkham Asylum episode, guarantee a lot of creators would not resist the temptation. I mean okay I guess there is a Ventris already in Batman but, come on, you know who I mean. This did not need any references to like, Jeremiah Arkham or Jonathan Crane or Hugo Strange or any of that, and that's not a diss on any of those guys, it's just that unlike pretty much every other Batman story, this episode does not undercut it's point about the horrific institutional horrors dehumanizing and destroying Sofia by pinning it on a chief boogeyman supervillain that Batman is going to fight later. Dr. Ventris is not responsible for the systemic rot that got her there nor is he the sole orchestrator/perpetrator of the abuse it's inmates suffer, he simply answers to those, and thus perpetuates them, by doing his job in a mental institution.

I am still haunted by the inmate committing suicide with a fork. It is so fucked up that Sofia was tortured and goaded by the doctors into murdering another inmate, and when that failed, they tortured her again and again and again until she snapped. The whole point was to push Sofia beyond the breaking point to justify further incarceration. The doctors just standing there letting her kill Magpie.

I want Dr.Rush to die.

I have more thoughts on Arkham, but I'd call this the most horrific take on Arkham so far, because it is the most honest take on Arkham so far. Even at it's most run-down and monstrous, it is usually never at all into question that Arkham Asylum is necessary, because if it wasn't there, all the crazies would run rampant in Gotham. Over the years, it's monstrousness has always been tied directly and specifically to it's inmates, and whenever people have pointed out the shoddy conditions and inhospitable environment of Arkham as a factor for repeat offenders, it's pretty much always as a fandom joke outside of Batman stories proper, and if there is anything wrong with the way the Asylum works, it is always the fault of particularly evil villains attached. A Lock-Up, a Jeremiah Arkham, a Hugo Strange, etc. Arkham Asylum is in general a Batman concept that's raised a lot of discussions and calls for revision over the years, and a lot of the issues with it tie into larger issues around superhero depictions of the carceral system, that @artbyblastweave went into here.

Here, in large part because this is a realistic world and a Gotham without a rampaging supervillain contingent of repeat offenders who can magically break out constantly, it is never into question that the patients are the victims of this system, and if they are being turned into potential supervillains, it is because of Arkham inflicting this on them. This is an Arkham Asylum that remains a nightmarish, horrific force in this world, but not because it's Castle Dracula where all the crazy villains hang out, not even just because the rest of Gotham is hopelessly rotten and corrupt, but because it's a mental institution and depicted accordingly. It gets to dig into the real life horrors mental institutions inflict on it's patients without having to justify those measures as benign or necessary to keep crazy crimes from happening. Frankly, this take on Arkham Asylum has been long overdue.

In every form of Batman media, just about the worst thing that can happen at any given moment is Arkham Asylum falling and it's inmates escaping into the streets, that's generally what happens when Batman needs to deal with apocalyptic stakes (which is why of course it happens all the fucking time now). Here, that scenario would be regarded with cheer, because the worst thing that can happen in this universe is being sent to Arkham Asylum. It isn't just Batman's unofficial personal prison / punching gallery, if anything it massively raises the stakes on this Batman's next adventures, because now we know this is what's waiting for him if he gets caught and unmasked.

I like that Sofia and Oz are both trying to save/protect those they see as younger versions of themselves, while inflicting on them the kinds of tragedies that ultimately created them

Oz reached out to this poor disabled kid from the streets and is showing him the ropes, while also belittling him as a nobody and distorting his worldview and dragging him into life or death cornered scrapdog situations chipping away at his morals. Sofia saves her little niece who laughs at bad table manners and doesn't quite do what her family says, gently lulling her to sleep so she can kill her mom and her entire family.

Extremely important that Sofia Falcone makes her formal arrival as a villain by showing up dressed in a sexy yet fitting extension of her trauma / cultural reference (The Yellow Wallpaper / the walls in her mother's bedroom), before putting on a mask and enacting Gotham's first Mass Casualty Gas Attack, we love to see it.

I was frankly already calling Sofia one of my favorite Bat-villains even before this episode, I'm just glad everyone seems to be on the same page with me now. I'm seeing a lot of posts on Twitter and Instagram talking about how they're rooting for Sofia instead of Oz, that she deserves to win this war, and good, fucking amazing that they're doing this, again, this show is hitting home runs I could not have foreseen.

It is incredible what a character they've made out of Sofia, and the fact that we now see Oz as her antagonist as much as we see Sofia as his, and the fact that if Penguin wins, he will win this as a villain. He will steal a victory he does not deserve and rub it in your face and he will make the children of the world cry for it as any villain worth his name should be doing, and it frankly wouldn't be much of a fight if Sofia wasn't every bit the complicated, engaging protagonist he is. Lauren LeFranc claimed that she sees Sofia is the closest the show has to a hero even if she is not, and this is the episode that sold everyone on it.

Halfway through the show and it's only gotten better and better, can't wait for what's coming next.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

“Also because I want [Nino] to be more narratively important but that is a rant for another day.” And will that day be someday soon? Wink wink nudge nudge :3c

I am happy to give Nino some love, but before we do, we need to talk about how badly canon has failed him. The reason we need to have that talk is that the love I'm going to give is far more headcanon-y than I usually go in these analysis posts. For most characters, I can give a strong canon-based argument for a core characterization. For Nino? Well, I am pulling this stuff from canon, but I wouldn't exactly label it a "strong" argument. There are even elements of my take on Nino that you could label "grasping at straws".

And I'm happy to own that! I delight in giving Nino all the love he deserves even if it doesn't perfectly match canon, but that means that my Nino is less me leaning into the best parts of canon and more me shifting through canon, grabbing a few shinny bits, and weaving them into something that you may not agree with because my vision for Nino is to elevate him to match Alya in terms of narrative importance because I want the team show season two promised me even if I have to make it myself!

And if you don't want that? Then that's fine! I'm not arguing that everyone should adopt this take. My version of Nino is about as close to an OC as I get when writing fanfic. So let's get into it and talk about why I had to do that. (Also note that I have nothing against OCs. It's just that, when it comes to my own writing, I try to reserve them for original fiction or for very minor roles that no canon character could fill. Totally a matter of personal preference and not some sort of judgement.)

The Many Ways that Canon has Done Nino Dirty

If we look at what is arguably the main group of friends - Alya, Marinette, Adrien, and Nino - then we can see a clear base concept for the first three. Alya is the plucky reporter. Marinette is the headstrong leader. Adrien is the sweet goofball. Nino is... Alya's boyfriend? Adrien's best friend? Chris' older brother?

This is the problem that I was referring to above. Alya, Adrien, and Marinette have clear roles that you could pick out by just watching Origins. Nino doesn't. He doesn't even speak in part one and part two gives him all of six lines. These lines establish him as a nice guy since they're all about him being kind to Adrien, but that's about it. Here's one of them as an example:

Miss Bustier: Agreste, Adrien? Nino: (quietly to Adrien) You say "present". Adrien: (jumps up with his hand raised) Uh, present!

This is a cute moment for sure, but when I look at it, I can't tell you who Nino is supposed to be other than a nice guy, which isn't much to go on. Nice guys can fit a lot of roles.

This isn't necessarily a flaw. Some characters have roles that are immediately obvious and some characters don't. This second class of character usually just has a more complex role that will be discovered and defined based on their actions as the story goes on. However, because Miraculous' writing is all over the place, Nino gets screwed. Instead of his actions defining his nebulous role, his actions make his role impossible to pin down! Here are a few examples:

Nino the Protector:

Season two was big on the idea that miraculous had to be suited to their holders. That's why Chloe kept getting the bee as we saw in Malediktator:

Marinette: I must choose someone who's not impressed by people in power. Who can help me trap Malediktator. Huh?! Of course! That's it. (reaches for the Miraculous of the Bee)

And why did Nino get the turtle in Anansi?

Marinette: I need a protective Miraculous. (gasps, and points at the Turtle Miraculous Master Fu is wearing) That's the one I need, Master! (Master Fu gasps) Uh, if it's okay with you. Master Fu: (smiles at Wayzz, who nods to him) Do you have someone in mind, Marinette?  Marinette: Actually, I think I found just the right person.

Okay, cool, we finally have a strong defining trait for Nino! He's a protector! Or, at least, he was here. Other episodes go directly against this role such as this nonsense from Illusion:

Nino: What's up is Ladybug and Cat Noir don't have us to help them anymore. Alya: (nervously) Um, um— uh— what do you mean, "us"? Nino: Well, us, you Rena Rouge, me Carapace! (Alya kicks his leg underneath the table) Ouch! What's the big deal? We can tell Marinette and Adrien we used to be superheroes.

This first issue with this episode is that we see Nino out his and Alya's secret identities without her permission even though the resistance did NOT require an identity reveal to be a thing. In other words, our supposed protector is taking a big risk for no reason. Then he goes and does this:

Nino: Hence my plan. We're gonna film an akumatization. Alya: And how are you, Comrade Ketchup, gonna be in the know when and where this akumatization takes place? Nino: Easy, Comrade Beurre Maître d'Hôtel. I'm gonna make it happen.

Which leads to the four friends antagonizing Gabriel even though Nino knows how complex Adrien and Gabriel's relationship is. A move that makes no sense for a supposed protector because Gabriel was far from their only option. Nino could have picked anyone, but he went with the riskiest candidate possible, exposing his best friend to a potentially massive backlash.

Nino also doesn't even try to contact Ladybug and Chat Noir prior to this insane plan, thereby putting the whole city at unnecessary risk! What kind of protector purposely causes an akuma without also coming up with mitigation strategies to minimize the resulting damage?

Everything Nino does in this episode should disqualify him from ever holding the turtle again or, at the very least, he should have to redeem himself before holding the turtle again. This is especially true since he never apologizes for anything he did in Illusion and this is just one example of the issue. It's actually kind of hard to find moments where Nino acts as a protector even though he holds the miraculous of Protection. So is he supposed to be a protector? Who knows!

Nino, The Empath:

That first example was long, so we'll pick two quicker ones to flesh this out. The first one is how Nino and Adrien's relationship is defined. In Origins and the New York Special Nino is written as a kind and sensitive guy who is acting as Adrien's guide to dating and other elements of the real world:

Nino: Yup. I love Adrien, but he's like a baby chick that's just started cracking out of his egg. He has a hard time understanding the signals people send him. Alya: What signals? Marinette isn't exactly sending them clearly. I mean, look! What is she doing with her arms? Telling him what to do in case of an emergency landing or something? Nino:(sighs) If only this trip could help Adrien finally come out of his shell.

But then you have episodes like Animan where Adrien is Nino's guide to dating:

Nino: Shhh! You know I'm no good with the ladies, especially this one all of a sudden. I mean, dude, do I go up to her and crack her a joke? Shoot her a compliment? Invite her to the zoo? Play it serious? Adrien: Nino, you're way over-thinking this. "Invite her to the zoo", you serious? Nino: Well, they have this really cool new exhibit there. Adrien: Listen, just be yourself, man.

And episodes like Illusion (discussed above) and Psycomedian (see below) where Adrien is deeply uncomfortable and Nino doesn't notice:

Nino: See, dude? I told you! Hilarious, right? Adrien: Uh... (laughs nervously) Right! Really funny, Nino. Nino: I gotta show you his other sketches. It's insane that you don't know Harry Clown! (laughs)

Which might work if these episodes were about Nino learning a lesson, but they're not. Nino learns nothing, so is he generally in tune with others or is he kind of oblivious to other peoples' feelings? And why did Nino ever think that Adrien was a good source of romantic advice if he also thinks that Adrien is "a baby chick"? Pick a lane people!

Nino's Hobbies

Our final source of confusion is trying to define what Nino even enjoys doing. Horrificator and Queen Banana have him playing around as an amature film maker, but we also see him acting as an amature DJ with the wiki even claiming that he's the head of the school's radio station. So which of these things is his passion? Movies or music?

To be clear, I think it's fine to have multiple passions, but this is a story. You want to keep your characters' non-story-relevant hobbies kind of simple, especially when the character in question is a relatively minor side character who rarely gets much screen time. It's why Alix is only really into roller skating and why Nathaniel is only really into art. You don't want them to be more complex than that.

Even the main characters get this "keep it simple" treatment with Marinette only really being into fashion and Alya only really being into her blog. The girls don't need two demanding passions that would eat up all of their free time, but that's what Nino gets! Film and music are both incredibly demanding passions and it's hard to balance a character who is into both who is also an active superhero. That's a lot for one dude to do well!

I've actually seen fics that cast Nino as wanting to be a director and fics that make him want to be a professional DJ because canon really isn't clear about this pretty basic aspect of his character, but you do need to pick a lane when writing anything that gives Nino a career and so people seem to pick a passion at random.

My Version of Nino

By now, we're hopefully in agreement that canon has made a mess of Nino's character to the point where it's near impossible to say "this is who Nino is supposed to be." However, if you want to write Nino, then you do kind of have to pick a characterization to go with, so here's what I've come up with. Feel free to embrace it or reject it, but know that you will pry my version of Nino out of my cold dead hands because I utterly adore him.

Since Nino is Carapace, I base everything about him around the concept of "protect and defend" because he needs to feel like he deserves his heroic alter ego. I do not want to make canon's mistake of giving him a miraculous that massively contradicts his writing. Especially when that writing makes him feel interchangeable with other characters. At this point, no one from canon screams "turtle miraculous" unless you want to give it to Adrien since he's Ladybug's defender.

I also designed Nino around Alya and Adrien as those will arguably be his most important relationships. He should feel like a perfect fit for boyfriend and best friend respectively. I also took Marinette into consideration because he's going to be part of her team/friend group, so he should work with her, too.

What all that means is that I basically said "okay, this is where Nino is supposed to fit in the story and this is the dumpster fire that canon gave us, how do I pull pieces from the fire and paste them together to make a character that fits who Nino should have been?"

To really get into my version of Nino, I'd almost have to give you a fic to read, but that's way too much for a Tumblr post, so let's keep this high-level and just look at some of my notes on Nino from my lore Bible:

Nino is a major audiophile. He loves listening to music and watching movies/TV shows to study how they play with sound. He wants to be an audio engineer when he's older, but he also has a general passion for all things music and film. He’ll listen to any genre and watch almost any movie or show. He loves to take charge of the music at events so that the music really fits the crowd (and so it sounds good). It isn’t unheard of for him to go see an unknown band or an odd indie film on his own. This will become a major bonding point for Nino and Adrien because of the influence of Adrien's mother. Nino has seen all of Emilie's films and loves them. It will also bond him and Alya as his knowledge of film making will allow him to help her learn the art of filming now that she's doing complex things like actions shots and editing together multiple recordings.

Nino is generally pretty laid back and likes to hear people out. His reaction to confrontation is to try to calm everyone down so that they can get to the heart of the issue. He wants everyone to get along, but he's also not going to let someone take the blame when they shouldn't. Nino protects the innocent.

Nino is incredibly protective of the people he loves. If someone he cares about is in danger, his peaceful nature goes straight out the window. He’s the kind of person who would happily take a bullet for his friends and family. This will lead to him following Alya around once the hero stuff starts because he wants to keep her safe. Never let Alya go out alone if Nino is around or even just aware that a fight is happening. Alya thinks "scoop" and Nino thinks "my Alya sense is tingling." He's NOT there to stop her from doing what she loves, he's just there to be her spotter who lets her focus on filming while he watches for danger, though that will initially be a struggle for him. Treat this as his audition/training for Carapace where he learns to balance protective instincts with getting the job done so that he's ready to perfectly take on his miraculous.

When Nino’s folks split up, his mother insisted that the kids should go to therapy to help process things. They had individual and family counseling. Nino was actually pretty cool with the divorce as he’d seen it coming, but his brother was really affected by it, so Nino spent his time working on ways to help Chris (and being told that he was a brother, not a parent, but he still wanted to help). He learned a lot from going through it and it’s why he’s so good at dealing with emotional issues. He’s also good at not taking those burdens on himself. He wants to help, but knows that it's your battle. Marinette often looks to Nino for guidance on emotional issues because she knows that she's terrible at navigating them. She has given him full permission to stop her when she's too focused on solutions over support. All of the friends will help Adrien figure out social situations, but Nino will be the main guide as he's the one with the strongest skills in that area. Plus Adrien makes Nino's protective big brother instincts go crazy.

Nino’s a bit of a loner by choice. He has "weird" hobbies that easily lend themselves to being done alone and he doesn't have any interest in "forcing" his hobbies on someone who doesn't actually enjoy them, so he spends a lot of time by himself and rarely invites others to share in his interests. He only does that when he thinks that they'll actually enjoy what he's sharing. He doesn’t mind this, but he’s also a very welcoming individual who doesn’t like to see people left out, so he’ll come out of his shell when he sees someone who needs a friend. This usually leads to him making friends who soon become closer with others, but still view him as a casual friend. He’s cool with that. He's just happy that they found their people. Adrien will be the first friend who really stays Nino’s due to an understanding of Nino’s “weird” hobbies. After all, Adrien’s the son of an actress. He’s used to weird indie films and discussions of cinematography. I'd even say that he revels in it and realizes that he has missed it desperately since his mom got too sick to do that kind of thing. Basically, Nino will fill a spot in Adrien's heart that Adrien didn't even know was empty. Adrien can listen to Nino talk about cinematography for hours and never get bored. Before Adrien, no one knew that Nino was this talkative!

If anyone wants more insights into this topic, feel free to send an ask, but I think we'll call this post done now because it's SUPER long.

[your-girl-mj]

heyy! could you do hcs where the reader is a female and is ganke's cousin and she just moved to brooklyn from korea and then she meets miles at the brooklyn visions academy and miles fell first but she fell harder?? tysm if you will do it!

that's your cousin?? [42 + 1610!Miles × f!reader]

summary: he fell first, but she fell harder. headcanons!

warning: swear words.

note: she/her for reader, he/him for miles, he/him for ganke.

created: august 20, 2023

published: august 21, 2023

earth-1610 [miles morales]

he fell first

she was the first thing miles noticed when he got into physics class.

headphone plugged in her ears, the sun from the window shining on the side of her face. her fingers twisting and turning, playing with the pen in her hand as she read a comic book.

baby deer is mesmerised.

miles was in complete awestruck

to the point their teacher told him to sit down because he's frozen in his spot, staring at her.

miles took a seat next to her.

he was awkwardly fidgeting, stealing glances at her every now and then.

he wants to talk but doesn't know how to start :(

at the cafeteria, miles is sitting down brainstorming how he will talk to her.

he didn't expect her to sit right in front of him.

she talked to his roommate in korean, though it was more like they're arguing over the food choice.

she left shortly to fetch something while ganke ate

"hey, ganke. you know the new girl?"

"[name]? yeah, she's my cousin."

"that's your cousin???"

[name] retreated back before he could ask anymore questions

the next day in physics, he sat in the same seat again.

he's writing a script about how he will talk to her and how the conversation would go if he said something like this and like that.

he heard her humming to his favourite song, sunflower; as she sat next to him.

he panicked for a second because [name] knew his favourite song was not on the script

"uh, hey. you like sunflower too?"

boy, he's sweating like crazy when he only received a side eye.

"y'know...the song? heh, i uh, like that song, too..." he's biting the inside of his cheek, wanting the floor to swallow him whole.

"i guess it's not so bad."

that simple comment made his day bright. he looked back, with a smiley smiley face, but wipe it off. like, it's cool. she's cool, he's cool, everything is cool.

"yeah, yeah uh.. it's sounds okay."

[name] hides a snort because she can clearly see how happy he is at something.

"hey, i didn't catch your —"

the teacher shushed him, and it got him embarrassed.

he was doing a good job talking with her, and now he looks like someone who doesn't listen to classes.

he's literally have a :( face.

"[name] [lastname]"

her voice echoed and he's awestruck again, and thinking; "she talks to me again! she likes me too!"

"oh uh, I'm miles. miles morales." he made sure he repeated his first name like those cool dude introduced themselves in action films.

and his uncle aaron used to do that too.

do not even get me to the shoulder touch.

she was by her locker and then closed the door and saw miles standing there, waiting for her.

the original plan in his head is he's gonna do the shoulder touch and then ask her if she wanna hang out after school.

and his prayers are not enough.

"hi?" she looked at him sceptical.

— it was so awkward, and miles made it even worse when he put a hand on her shoulder and made a ... some sort of face at her

"hey."

his one brow is rised, it's like he's smiling but also not?

[name] literally have "??????" flying over her head. and look at him weirdly.

"hey?" she repeated his word in a question matter.

miles felt sad after that because he thought she wouldn't talk to him anymore and that he look so weird in her perspective.

but [name] act like that awkward moment never happen to save miles' whole being.

and he's so grateful for her to do that.

she fell harder

how can she not fall for him? he's an absolute sweetheart!

miles invites her to all his hangouts with ganke

(ganke doesn't give a shit but it bothers him a bit that his roommate have heart eyes for his cousin)

sometimes, he brought to her different places in brooklyn. and even if there's a warning sign, it didn't stop her from going with him.

miles treated her so well it makes her heart go BOOM BOOM BOOM

he always has a hand out to help her up, like she wants to get up and his hand is out.

"let me help you up," was always his dialogue for her.

he also pays for her food.

(she and ganke fought about who's miles' favorite)

(in korean of course. no way they let miles heard it.)

he likes to leave little gifts for her.

mostly it was little notes and drawings.

sometimes it was a freshly picked sunflower, or sometimes he gave her a full-grown [fav.flower]

she doesn't know how he got it in a city but didn't question it.

the fact that miles is just expressing his feelings, [name] feel more and more appreciated.

no boy can ever top miles.

[name] is not used to his act of service.

she refuses, knowing she can handle it herself.

but only accept when he insisted or when he looks disappointed.

miles do it all the time, that it became a routine for him <33

to the point that [name] also got used to his sweet actions and unconsciously sought it T_T

(ganke was force to get use to it)

she noticed she feels more giddy with him

she knew she fell when miles stuttered a few words in her mother tongue.

in her head, she was screaming, "HE LEARN HER LANGUAGE SO SHE CAN TALK EASILY TO HIM"

while miles want to jump off the window by how stupid he thinks he sounds.

miles did so much for her. she always returned it back as well. <33

miles is too flustered to even keep his "cool" demeanour whenever she left little notes like he always do

little cousin is forced again to participate (she made ganke give miles her old art materials that still work)

of course, she finds out he's spiderman.

she wasn't allowed to go to the boy's dormitory and vice versa.

but she couldn't take it anymore when her cousin "borrowed" her comic book and hasn't given back for over 5 months and it's pissing her off because she knew ganke can be careless with her things.

she opened the door unannounced and saw something she shouldn't

miles was trying to take off his suit but is stuck, and ganke is helping by pulling it as well.

[name] awkwardly close the door.

with a flaming crimson face, before bolting to her dorm.

miles is slamming his head repeatedly on the wall.

ganke was a little worried that miles' secret is revealed to his cousin, and she might tell on them

that's not what miles is sulking for.

"she saw me without a shirt on... kill me."

he's so embarrassed, he want to stop existing.

to be honest, she doesn't give two fucks that he's spiderman, she's just angry they didn't tell her

especially miles.

they make up tho <33

their hangouts upgraded from abandoned train vandalism to watching the sunset from the top of a tower.

it was also where they had their first date.

[name] confessed. she did it first before miles for the last second.

he's a little pouty about it because it made him look like a chicken

earth-42 [miles morales]

he fell first

just because he fell first doesn't mean he notice her on her first day.

miles didn't officially meet her in school.

he met her at night. when he was prowler, patrolling.

he saw it with his night vision. a drunk guy was following a girl.

he already know it's not gonna end well.

miles was ready to tackle the guy from the top of the building, but what the girl did was unexpected.

she has a tazer in her hand, electrocute the drunk by his neck.

she watches its body tremble for a few seconds before she lets go.

the drunk's body just fell unconscious with a loud thud

the girl needs things to protect herself too, y'know, especially in a city full of crimes.

miles felt his heart do a small flip.

a smirk under his mask as she watch her walked away like nothing happened.

she's a tough one. feisty. and he's desperate for her number.

but he can't just randomly show up. he'll get knocked out as well, and he doesn't want that.

miles thought he'll never see that girl again, but to his general shock, they sat next to each other in one of his class.

he's pissed at himself for not noticing her much earlier.

miles is also pissed when he saw her and his roommate hanging out, inside and outside school.

he thought they were lovers 💀

he's pissed at himself when he finds out she's ganke's cousin.

"that's your cousin...?"

"yeah, she transferred here for over 7 months now."

"...fuck."

he get that they're not that close but still. he's still his roommate, and he could've told him about his cousin he didn't know about.

and didn't make him listen to broken-hearted songs on repeat.

he learned her name indirectly, which was [name] [lastname].

mister here finds himself searching for her whenever he's on patrol or when he's on a heist with his uncle.

his mask have a search thing where you type a person's name, and then he can detect if they're around the area. (inspired by his uncle's old mask)

it has a history bar, and aaron is shocked to see a girl's name over and over again.

one lucky morning is when they got partnered up, and they both started hanging out.

from strangers to best friend kind of one.

but one of them already have feelings for the other.

and he wishes to stay it that way unless she shows some signs she likes him too.

she fell harder.

every moment she feels herself falling, she's snapping herself out of it.

he's good-looking, of course he is.

he always thought he was scary, especially with the rumours of him being in a fight after his dad died.

he always has this frown in his face, too

her fear of miles made ganke take advantage of it by hiding in his dormitory knowing she will leave because miles will show up in any second

she's mad at him for it. (she didn't talk to him in 4 months)

but when they become friends, she feels a small, giddy feeling inside.

miles treated her differently.

but a good differently. anyone can tell he have a soft spot for her and no one knows why, even [name] herself.

yes, he still teased and was annoying as usual, but the way his eyes softened at the sight of her made her feel content with life itself.

she feels a bit special how miles treated her differently than the others.

let say she read a trope like theirs

she didn't look into it much. she hates that assuming something that will turn out to be wrong, she has false hope this entire time.

that's why she stopped herself whenever they're together.

she still acts like she did with everyone else, but she's a little more open to miles than the others.

she lost it when he suddenly grabbed hold of her shoulder, looking directly in her eyes with an unreadable expression.

"hey." was all he can say, and her face fires up like one of her cells commited arson

"oh, oh shit. uh, hi? what the fuck??" she suddenly blurbs out, jumbled on her own words. "miles, what??? what the hell??"

miles burst out laughing at her reaction, he haven't laughed like that in a long time.

[name] just stood there processing everything. she's flabbergasted.

was that a flirt?? or was she not paying attention for him to do crazy things like that???

after that, she didn't know what just happened or what he ate, but [name] feels like he's flirting.

and she's flirting back, with a little violent action as well.

she smacks him every time he smirks, that literally screams, "you want me so bad."

miles concluded her love language is physical. just physical. (she hits him too much that he feels numb but won't change a thing <3)

few weeks later, they're dating, miles did the shoulder touch, and he swear that will not work (it did) to see if she likes him too or not.

through out their relationship, [name] get easier to be flustered now than before since miles was born a flirt.

this is my first time doing headcanons, so idk if i do it right. snsbsksbei

but i hope you like it! comments and reblog are deeply appreciated. thank you for reading!

[rainofthetwilight]

ALRIGHT. ALL MY THOUGHTS AND PREDICTIONS FOR THE NEW TEASER

HERE WE GO

BEATRIX AND MOTION!!!!! they both seem to be in lloyd's visions by the red landscape, and I'm so glad his visions didn't stop at s2p1 and are still ongoing even after the blood moon

also, can I just say that motion's design is so fucking pretty omg?????? SHE LOOKS SO COOL

worried face lloyd? yep, connected to the visions I'm guessing

I'm also calling that someone's gonna make a meme out of this lmao

AYYYY THE SCENE FROM THE IMDB PHOTOS!!! ngl since it looks like roby's welcoming them, I'm guessing that the screen was showing a recap recording of the ninja arriving

IT'S THE UH, BRECKT OR BREKT GUY OR WHATEVER HIS NAME IS I CAN'T REMEMEBER 😭

YESYEYEYSYEYSYEYE3YEGEYEGSYSBDHEBEVRVQHFHQBDHQJJSJSFHHW WE'RE GETTING KAI N BONZLE MEETING THE REST OF THE FF LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

the glowing one is sitting on a chair, unlike the rest who are standing? I'm guessing that he's the one that passed through the gate and possessed jordana, so he's basically like, living in two worlds? that's also probably why he's sitting on a chair

THEY LOOK SO HAPPY AUSDGSHGSGAGDEHEH32H1HEGQHDHHWEGG2HDHQHQ (they do NOT know the psychological torture that's coming in the next few episodes.........)

ALSO???? NYA'S LOOKING HOT AS FUCK AUSGSHWG3GG2V2HSHQJWHWH1HEHEQHSYHQGSGW AND LLOYD IN HIS MASTER OUTFIT!!!!!!!!! HE'S REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!

MATRIARCH IS BACK!!!!! also, is it just me or is she missing her crown? and why is she at the realm of madness? I'm guessing that this is where she and the rest of the herd went after ras' attack maybe?

and from the later shot of sora and arin below, I think this is also related to the administration

also...

yeah, this shot is definitely from ep11

WYLDFYRE WYLDFYRE WYLDFYRE MY DAUGHTER SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY AUAGSGSGSGWGEWHEHGSWHHEHWHEGSGWGDGGWQH

I can't really tell what's happening here?? but since she still has her powers, this is before her match w/ cinder

SORA W/ A WEAPON SORA W/ A WEAPON SORA W/ A WEAPON LETS FUCKING GO SHEYEU2VFB2H4HQIAIDH22J2IWI2GRI28WJDHWJSJ2U2U3SHHDDGHQ LOOK!!!!! LOOK AT MY BLORBO GO!!!!!! LOOK AT MY FAV GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think whatever she's using is made for the tightrope she's on, for balance yk

also, are those floating platforms cameras???

I NEVER THOUGHT WE'D ACTUALLY SEE ROBY W/ A SELFIE STICK BUT HERE WE ARE LMAOO

he looks so happy AGSHQHDGHW 😭 judgung by the spectators I think they're doing like, that wave thing where people cheer then go down if ykwim? I don't know what it's called lol

OKAY LIKE I SAID ABOVE THIS IS DEFINITELY THE ADMINISTRATION CONSIDERING THEY'RE AT THE REALM OF MADNESS RIGHT???? WHY DO THEY LOOK SO SHOCKED I'M . HUH

saw someone on twitter say it might be them meeting jay, but I don't think that's possible bc like, they would've told the others yknow? they wouldn't be that happy if they knew Ig, so I'm guessing this is related to the matriarch plot

CINDER'S LOOKING FLY AS FUCK HOLY SHIT??????? THE MINIFIGURE DID HIM SO DIRTY I'M SO SORRY WE BULLIED YOU MAN 😭

ALSO?????? WHY AND HOW IS HE CONTROLLING WYLDFYRE'S POWERS?????M HUH WHATWHATSVEHWJSHAHWJDJHWHEHQJSJW

my theory? since we see him battling w/ wyldfyre later on, he probably won the duel, and the one who wins gets the other opponent's powers (basically TOE, but to the players themselves instead)

A RACE?????? that is one heck of a small dragon, a baby I'm guessing?

ALSO MECH SUIT COLE IS REAL!!!!!!! he's in his wedding dress <3333333

WHO ARE YOU CLOAKED PERSON AND WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING LLOYD

this could be an entirely new person, but I tbh think it's either jordana or nokt?

but after looking at her minifigure it's not entirely possible it could be her, so it's either nokt, a new person, or even possibly beatrix

WHAT ARE THE TEMPLE GUARDS DOING TO JIRO AND ZANTH WHAT DID THEY EVER DO TO YOU 😭😭

also, the ninja in the background!! those are definitely zane, sora, cole and wyldfyre

GEO BEING THE SUPPORTIVE HUSBAND THAT HE IS AUSVSHQHWGEGWVWG1UWH3H2HDVWVRGQEHHWA WHEN I TELL YO U I SCREAMED ARGEHSHDHEHAHDAHHSHS LOOK AT HIM CHEERING ON HIS HUSBAND N HIS FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CINDER AND WYLDFYRE REMATCH CINDER AND WYLDFYRE REMATCH CINDER AND WYLDFYRE REMATCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (this is Not gonna end well 😕)

ALSO, HOW IS CINDER USING SHATTERSPIN W/O HIS EYES GLOWING AND ALL THAT......

did he shatter his soul too much it became part of him or smth???

BACK TO THE TIGHTROPE!!!!!!!!! SORA WATCH OUT WGAHSHWHWHRWJJDHQHEEHWJQJDHWHDHAHSSGQHQ

WHO IS THAT DRAGON AND WHY IS IT TAKING LLOYD??????????

MOTION GLOWING.....OH MY GOD??????????????

HER SIZE COMPARED TO THE MONASTARY IS JUST???????

WHAT A WAY TO END THE TEASER HOLY SHIT

[almondest]

Favorite Crime

:: Blade ， Jing Yuan ， Dan Heng ， Sampo ， Gepard

summary: breaking up under certain circumstances, adhering to you as their favorite crime.

a/n: ib what I'm currently going through RAAAAAAAAAAAA (expect for more angst in the coming days)

The things you did.

You played a significant role in him. Blade was sure you two would last longer than expected, but it was never bound to happen.

When you asked to end things with him in unfortunate circumstances, he felt his whole world turn upside down. The way all the things you did reflect in his vision every night.

There was no remedy for those memories, your face played like a melody that won't leave his head.

"Why..?" He meekly whispered. he was facing you, the tears that were threatening to fall down those crimson eyes were so forcibly kept. Instead, he just looked at you, scanning those eyes of yours in an attempt to convince himself that you were just joking.

"I'm sorry Blade. I-I just have too much on my plate right now..." You whispered back, before turning away from him. "I love you Blade, I really do. But because of this, I had to cut you off. for our sake."

Well, I hope I was your favorite crime.

He loves you so much, that he doesn't want to see you hurting. But Jing Yuans method, brought you down and just made you sadder than you already were.

You thought you knew him, guess you didn't. He hides so much stuff that you just wished he'd be free to tell you anything and everything.

"So, you were engaged?" You looked at him dejected, tears were slowly blurring your vision. "So you knew..."

"And you were planning to keep me from the dark? Do you never plan to tell me? I wouldn't have known if Yanqing never told me." Your tears finally gave out, breaking down right in front of him. "I was trying to get you to hate me!" You sighed, wiping away the tears that stained your cheek.

"Maybe we need to cool off for a while? Or better, Maybe we need to gather enough time for ourselves." You turned your back on him. "I love you. I really do, but maybe this isn't the right time for us."

It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we'd do.

After a heated argument with him a few days ago, you two gradually made up. But you always felt that deep inside, something was going on with Dan Heng. He was slightly colder, the vibe he gave off whenever you two met felt unfamiliar. It was as if, the love that once radiated to the two of you disappeared like nothing.

"I can't help but think, that as if we're strangers heng..." You started, walking towards the couch to sit beside him. "is something going on? You know you can tell me..." You whisper, taking his hand and playing with it.

He remained silent, treating you like a breeze of wind. 'No, nothing is going on my love...' Is what he wants his mouth to speak out but nothing comes out. "Did I do something wrong again? Please talk to me..." You started pleading, tightening your grip to his hand. 'No..You never did.'

Yet despite your pleas and begs, he never shared a glance with you. "[Name], let's end this." 'Fuck, please don't cry.'

Cause I was going down and I was doing it with you.

The first few years of your relationship was a blast. It was fun, it was something you never experienced with others before. Sampo was someone you gave your heart to ever so fast. But sometimes, these can be bound to break.

"You don't understand!" You screamed, accidentally throwing the vase of flowers that he gave you for your 3rd anniversary a few days ago, immediately feeling guilt rush through you.

He raised both his hands as a sign of surrendering. "[Name], my darling please don't get mad anymore... I swear I'll never really do it again!" You irked at those words of his. No matter what he says, you no longer felt the urge to give him another chance.

"Sampo, I'm done. Let's stop this..." You sighed, tears threatening to fall. "Once a thief, always a thief."

But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face.

He's beginning to grow distant. Gepard who once knew how to balance both his time for work, and for you was no longer there. After the whole fiasco of having 3 wanted people, he gradually lost time with you. And whenever he had, you did your best to get him to cheer up and spend time with you, but all you ended up receiving was a harsh cold shout of "leave me alone!".

"I'm home." A soft masculine voice echoed through your shared apartment but you never ought to give a response.

Soft creaking of the wooden floorboards were subtly heard, stripping your attention off to the newspaper you were reading. "Ah, you're home..." You unenthusiastically greeted.

You knew deep down that he had reasons as to why he acted that way for the past few weeks, you tolerated it and understood his situation. But when he actually shouted at you more louder than before gave your last straw.

Never once did he apologize after lashing out on you, never once did he even try to check up on you right after.

"Gepard, do you love me?" You asked, breathing in the courage to finally say it out. "Hmm? What's up? Of course I do... You don't know how much I do." He softly mouths, walking near you to give you an embrace he longed for.

"Oh, is that so?" You asked. "Are you doubting me?"

Long pause. Long pauses. Silence.

"I... Maybe we need space for a little while?"

[comicaurora]

Have you seen the new Superman show on adult swim? Himbo Clark Kent rights

It's off to an extremely encouraging start! Thoughts under the cut!

I like how they portray Clark's super-strength and how comfortable he is flying and using super-speed. They really feel like innate characteristics of his body rather than powers he switches on and off - things he keeps toned down when people are watching, but things that are always present regardless. The number of times I've pulled a push door or shoved something that was stuck and thought "if I had super-strength I wouldn't get a Take Two on this because my hand would've gone straight through that" is clearly something the showrunners have also thought about. This Clark lives in a world of cardboard and physically cannot stop himself from putting his hand through it at least once a day.

There's a physicality to the way Clark takes hits that really communicates how little he feels them most of the time. Eyes open, mouth closed, immediately getting back into the fight after getting punched into a crater. This is stuff I also think about when I draw supernaturally tough characters in combat situations, and it's cool to see someone else doing it - especially since one of my very few complaints about the older DCAU is that Superman always took every hit like it was a fully incapacitating blow, which Worf'd him pretty constantly.

I also like that we have so far never seen Clark angry. We've seen him scared, flustered, disappointed - but not angry. Even in fights where he's taking serious hits, he's only motivated by wanting to protect and save people, even his opponents - he so far has never been motivated by a desire to destroy. That feels like very good writing for Superman.

It's currently a little unclear how exactly his powerset is scaling - it looks like the blue-eye-glow-and-suit-emblem thing is a legitimate powerup that lets him hit harder and recover faster than his normal baseline, but how exactly that works isn't clear yet - although that is very obviously going to be a plot point later, since they keep giving him little flashes of the story of Krypton's destruction and what shenanigans they were getting up to when it exploded.

On that note, Kryptonian tech has never looked or felt so otherworldly. I love the distorted electronic backward-voice choir they use exclusively for when Clark is on the ship. I love that hologram Jor-El can't speak English, but can clearly understand Clark - also this is the coolest Jor-El has ever looked. Some comics wax poetic about how Clark is an alien space god who only pretends to be human, but I like how this show is firmly putting Clark on the side of the audience with regards to how unsettling the "alien space god" vibes truly are. He can't understand the nature of the ship or the words of its holographic inhabitant, he's not really interested in what it means or where it came from - he just wants to know who he is, or rather who Superman should be. And I like that he concludes that Superman should be him - the heroics he was already doing, except this time on purpose. Superman should not be this spooky glowing alien god thing, even if that's the vibe we get from Krypton itself.

I like that the ship gave Superman his modern no-underpants-on-the-outside suit and Ma Kent was like "we can do better than that" and added the underpants back on.

I also like how much setup there is for future plot stuff that a DC-familiar audience can see coming. Clark hasn't used any of his vision-based powers yet, and it's possible he doesn't know they exist. No sign of Lex Luthor or Kryptonite yet, two problems we know will become more severe with time. We've already got Amanda Waller being stoically nefarious in the background. Young Hot Deathstroke is a hell of a design choice and I am Here For It.

I also appreciate how many little referential jokes are packed into the dialogue, ranging from the obvious "it's a bird it's a plane" to some hella deep pulls like Jimmy Olson's youtube channel.

And fundamentally I love how this show starts from the jump with the thesis that friendly, humble, Normal Man Clark is the real person, and Superman is the job that Clark Kent does. The title of the show is "My Adventures With Superman." The POV character is Clark. He is the "my" in that title. This is Clark's story about Superman.

I really, really hope Batman eventually shows up, because this Superman would make that hilarious.

[justanofficeworker]

TW: This Fic contains kidnapping, dub con, NSFW scenes, Stockholm syndrome among other things. Please do not read if these themes upset or disturb you. That being said, welcome and enjoy the ride.

A/n: Thank you for waiting for this chapter, after like 2 weeks of writers block and not knowing how to pull story beats together its done. I'm gonna start chapter 3 next Monday and hopefully release it before Friday. As always thank you for your support and drop a follow if you like my work.

Chapter 2- The date

You could hear what sounded like rattling metal as you ended your call with Simon. ‘Probably the dog he had mentioned at the store’ you thought to yourself as you began to frantically sift through your closet. It was a simple coffee date, no need to get dolled up. Maybe just a cute top and some jeans. “Yeah this should work “ you say aloud as you lay out your outfit for tomorrow.It had been so long since you went on an actual date.  Sure you had the occasional hook up and to be truthful a lot of them, were not up to snuff. But this coffee date was something to actively look forward to. Simon was polite and patient from what you could tell. He had suggested somewhere highly public and not tried to get you to his place immediately . Maybe all your waiting had finally paid off and you had found an actual nice guy. “Let's just hope he’s not some kind of serial killer” you mused to your house plant as you passed it on the way out your bedroom and to your now cooling bath. Now all you had to do was relax and let tomorrow come. 

Simon pov

Simon was late. Johnny had decided he needed to be a brat as soon as Simon made his way to the front door. Pulling at Simon's belt , murmuring ‘just’ a quickie, fer good luck and’ a clear head’ he had murmured. That quickie ended up being more of a half hour event, with Johnny whining for him to ‘go harder, please sir, wanna feel you while you catch our bird’. Granted Simon did have a clear head as he walked through the door to the small-ish coffee shop you’d agreed to meet him in. Panning his vision across the small space yielded a sight that could make an angel fall. There you sat, eyes wet , idly stirring what looked like a chocolate flavored coffee topped with pink sprinkles. God you looked so dejected , like everything that could go wrong in the world had all happened just before Simon had walked in. Slowly, Simon made his way towards you internally cursing Johnny for being so persuasive in his efforts to hop on his dick and spin. 

“Ello lil bird, I'm sorry to be so late,” Simon remarked as he stopped , right behind Beanie’s chair.

The brown skinned woman sat up quickly , blinking away un-shed tears. “Oh shit, Simon, heeeey. I figured  you wouldn't show” She greeted , turning in her seat. Simon felt lower than low, seeing the wetness in her eyes gather and release a single tear that she quickly wiped away.

“God you must think I'm well and truly an ass' ' Simon retorted with a sad crow “my dog decided he wanted to make a mess right as I was leavin my house. If I had known it would take so long to clean, I would have just left" Simon's eyebrow furrowed at that last remark, sudden anger foreign.

“May i?” he gestured to the chair opposite you. 

Nodding you avert your eyes to look at the door , suddenly thinking about whether or not you should just make a run for it. “ you know normally if someone is this late to a date i leave” you quip , hoping to hide your nerves.

“Yeah? Well I'm honored that you decided to stay. I hate to admit it but you've been on my mind since yesterday. I’ve gotta tell ya I'm curious, who are you , where you've been , what you want and how i can factor into those plans. You are mesmerizing "Simon finished , in awe of you all but glow under his complements. a feeling shoots up your spine as you feel you face heat at the confession.No one had ever said something so deep to you and been genuine . Most of the time guys would say ‘deep’ shit to try to charm their way into your bed. Maybe it was because Simon was hot and made you feel butterflies in very inappropriate areas or maybe his vulnerability was something you craved , you weren't sure yet. You did know that you were going to keep Simon in your life for as long as he would let you cling. Plus he had a dog and everyone loves dogs.

“That's a lofty ask Simon , maybe I'll tell you who i am on this date and for each date I'll answer one of you questions. But you gotta answer them too” you bargain. Simon seems pleased that you want to know him just as much as he wants to know you.

“ Well then Simon, my name is Y/n L/n, most people call me Beanie. I’m 27 and i work from home as a freelance book editor. My favorite desert is flan and house plant tending is my hobby." Beanie formally introduces herself , much like one would do in front of class at the beginning of a school semester.You look at Simon expectantly. 

“ oh um ,’ he starts “My name is Simon Riley, Simon is fine, I'm 37 and I'm a retired military vet. Not by choice mind you, ended up with a bad injury and got discharged with a couple of my men. Now i just garden and take care of an old geezer of a dog.”

You and Simon talked for another hour before the cashier announced the shop would be closing early due to some sort of electrical issue. Simon took this as the perfect time to draw your date to a close and promising that he would text you later. You agreed that it was a good idea to end here and make plans for a later meeting.

_____________________________________________

Your second date, a week later , ended up being your idea. A quiet afternoon at a local park for a picnic.

“Well Simon, your next question of where I’ve been” you said propping yourself up on your elbows. “I’ve been to the states, Canada, the Caribbean. Ive got family there , but we don’t talk much. And finally London. I ended up staying and applying for a citizenship after my work visa ran out and i gotta say, i like it here.” You finish with a giggle. You’d been looking forward to this date all week.

Simon was so open and honest, telling at length about his injury and it felt to basically repurpose his life after being discharged. You couldn’t imagine having to reboot how you went about your life so abruptly. He was so strong for that. Handsome, kind and thoughtful, Simon had even gotten you a bouquet of peonies, your favorite flower. You weren't entirely sure how he knew, but it was thoughtful none the less.

Simon looked deep in thought before he responded “ originally born an’ raised in Manchester, though during my military career I've seen all corners of the world , but I’m much more content with the more rural areas of London”. Simon looked off into the distance, surveying the park goers when he caught sight of a black and brown blurred bee lining straight for you.

One second you were turning your head to see what Simon was looking for and the next you were in his lap as a very hyper doberman barreled right through the spot you had been sitting in. A very frantic dog walker yelling an apology as he dashed passed, leash in hand. A giggle tumbled out of your mouth as you watched the pair until they were out of sight. It was only then that you realized , you were suddenly very close to your date.

Your eyes met his and it was kind of like fate. Like the stars had aligned and pushed your two souls into each other's orbit , willing you to meet. Your eyes connect and Simon leans closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Till his lips are just barely ghosting over yours. 'screw this waitin shit' you think as you surge forward, closing the distance and sharing a searing kiss. His lips tasted like the strawberries you had brought and the champagne Simon surprised you with when you had met at his car. It was like everything clicked together and the world stopped for a brief second. Sadly you both had to breath at some point and you pulled away.

"Oh wow" you sighed, almost giddy with the lack of oxygen. "I've never been one to kiss on the second date, but that felt"

"right?" Simon finished your sentence for you. " to be honest I've never felt as comfortable as i do with you." he reveled , holding you close.

You stayed like that for a while, sun beginning to set and the park lights flickering on. Soon it was time for you to leave. You folded and packed away your picnic basket and made your way back to Simon's car. he had insisted that he take you home, the drive to your building was comfortably silent , the radio playing some new love song by an obscure boy band. It didn't occur to you that you hadn't given him your address, too love struck for the thought to register.

The drive wasn't long and soon you were parked outside of your home, Simon slipping out to open your door and walk you up the stairs. "I had a nice time, thank you for the picnic" you say to to Simon suddenly shy as Simon crowded you against the door.He leaned down, close to your ear and said " for our next date , I'll take you somewhere real fancy, wear something pretty for me , ok?" he voice soft and velvety. Planting a quick kiss on your cheek he stepped back and winked. You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding, face hot. "yeeah, yep. c-call me when you get home k!' you stammer as you unlock your door and slip inside under Simon's watchful eyes.

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

Simon signed as he watched your door slide shut. Your date was a success and soon, so very soon you would be home with him and johnny. You had felt so soft in his arms and now that he had had a taste of you , there was no substitute. he just had to get you home, without damaging you too much. He had the whole drive home to finalize his thoughts.

Pulling up the gravel drive way , he could see johnny lazing on the front porch, face tight in concentration as he sketched on a drawing pad, near manic in he fervor.

"ech-em" Simon cleared his throat, jolting johnny out of his thoughts, "Jesus, ye big bastard. Did ya need to scare me half to death?" he admonished as he set aside his art supplies. Simon chuckled a the Scot's crassness, "And here i was ready to tell you how my date went with our bird and all i get is yelled at. Maybe I should' Simon trails off as johnny all but bum-rushes him, shouting obscenities as he forcefully pulls Simon towards their front door and into the living room , where he promptly shoves Simon down onto the couch and straddles his lap with an expectant look. " now, tell me everything" johnny pushes , blue eyes wide an waiting.

Simon lets out a warm laugh as his hands run up and down the fat of johnny's ass and thighs, gripping and groping every now and then. "There's my eager puppy. You wanna know all there is to know about our precious bird, dont'cha?" Simon pulling his lover close so he can whisper into his ear. “Her favorite fruit is strawberries, want to taste?” He teases as johnny rears back and smashes his lips with Simon’s. Johnny can only whine as Simon's tongue slip's past his lips.

They had much to 'discuss'.

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika comforts you after having a nightmare

content: fluff, arcane au, soft!sevika

You can't see.

The sound of your own gasping breath causes a nauseating sensation to settle within you. Everything around you is stark black, with no sign of anything familiar to pull you back to reality.

"It's okay," Her voice just barely keeps the dam from breaking. "It's okay now. I'm here."

Another sobs rips through you.

"I know," Her coaxing is tender. "It's okay. I promise." And even though she hadn't just relived your dream, you believe her. You know that she knows. She gets it. She gets you. Somehow, without you having to explain anything, she remains right here; understanding exactly what you need. "You're safe now."

Light illuminates the room suddenly. Despite the gentle click of her bedside lamp, the change is still jarring. Your eyes begin to burn as they struggle to adjust to your restored vision.

She stares back at you with piercing grey pools of care.

In that moment, the world rights itself again.

She doesn't say anything more. Your breathing calms to a steady pace, hair rising at the base of your neck as you realize that this is all you had needed. You can't help but marvel at how easy this is. How easy she makes it. All of those months of crying yourself awake, struggling through nightmares and flashbacks, only to realize that the simple gaze of someone you care for has washed it all away.

"I'm right here." She reminds you. And then you're pressed against the side of her, your head buried in her neck as her left arm circles around your waist. Naturally, you allow your legs to rest over hers. The cool surface of her headboard against your back is the only thing that keeps you from fully melting into her embrace.

Your hands grip onto her arm, the same arm wrapped around you, and you can't help but give her a light squeeze. It's an unspoken thank you. A gesture that you know she understands. She always understands.

Beads of sweat drip down the sides of your face and onto her shoulder. You don't bother to wipe them away.  And you don't think she necessarily cares.

Once you finally muster up enough courage to speak, you mumble, "It was a bad dream."

Her hold around you tightens. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You pause to ponder on her offer. Then you snort out a weird combination of a chuckle and sigh. "Not tonight. But I am more concerned that it's," You glance at the digital clock on her nightstand. "2 am in the morning and you somehow aren't tired of me."

"Why would I be?"

You lift your head, a wave of disbelief washing over you. "I've managed to disturb your sleep at 2am in the morning, Sev. Who wouldn't be even slightly annoyed by that?"

Even though you're grateful to be in this predicament, you hadn't necessarily thought you would ever get to this point with Sevika. Your friend group often teased her about being emotionally constipated. When you first met her, a month had passed before she even initiated a conversation. She wasn't the most outgoing. And she wasn't usually the type to hold people during strange hours of the night and listen to them complain about their issues.

But here she is. Holding you—asking you to complain. You struggle to fully understand why.

"The time of night is the least of my concerns right now." Sevika replies, pulling you out of your reverie. You're close enough for her breath to tickle your lips. Her pupils are dilated, gaze flickering to a space between your eyebrows. Then they trickle down to the slope of your nose before she peers at your lips. "Are you sure you don't need to talk about anything?"

You swallow thickly, reveling in the feeling of her skin against yours. Her hand slides to the base of your neck, fingers rubbing into the back of your scalp; holding you there. Tethering you to her.

A lump lodges itself in your throat. The sweetness of it all becomes painfully overwhelming. You aren't used to her being like this. And you definitely hadn't expected it. Every passing day that the two of you grow closer, the more that Sevika surprises you. The layers that come with her are multifaceted and sometimes entirely the opposite of what you initially thought.

Like now.

You blink slowly. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

A lapse of silence follows. Her eyebrows raise, head tilting in slight annoyance. You can already tell that she thinks your question is ridiculous. "You know why."

You suddenly feel naked despite being fully clothed.

Her gaze is unwavering, dark full lips parted and absolutely stunning. Your heart hammers in your ribcage. You're almost convinced it'll leap out of your chest as her words echo through your ears: You know why.

There's something between the both of you that's been boiling for a while now. You've been aware of it. It doesn't take rocket science for you to realize that friendships don't usually consist of shared kisses and slow morning rises with countless cuddles and breakfast food. At least, that's not how it's been for you with your past friendships.

But despite the line that's obviously been crossed, the both of you have yet to define exactly what you mean to each other.

It's something that you haven't been willing to say—for the fear of being rejected. For the fear of scaring Sevika away (it's taken a long time for her to become completely comfortable with you), and also for the fear of things changing.

You don't like change.

Not when everything is already perfect as it is.

But the signs are starting to become increasingly harder to ignore when she says things like 'You know why.'

"Did I scare you off..." She asks, grip tightening around your scalp in an attempt to regain your attention. It's a habit of hers you've grown to love. Your body grows rigid, a powerful magnetic force hitting you right in the gut. Within seconds, she loosens her grip, scratching gently into your scalp, completely oblivious to the sparks that she's triggered.

"No," You reply, mind fuzzy. "The opposite, really."

Her expression remains placid, as usual. But there's a tender shift in her eyes. It's subtle but it's there.

She tugs you closer to her and that's when you realize that you're in an awkward position of halfway sitting in her lap. You find yourself shifting your weight, trying to get comfortable despite the crick in your lower back.

"Here," She mumbles, pulling you towards her more. You allow her to guide you before repositioning yourself. You face her as you sit in her lap fully, legs straddling her. Both of her arms take this moment as an opportunity to wrap around your hips. Your heartbeat jumps up to your throat.

These feelings, these thoughts, are something that you don't ever think you'll get used to. Your mind can't help but focus on her half-lidded sleepy eyes, and how perfect they are when gazing at you in this way. She's wearing a tank top, which displays her broad shoulders and bulging bicep muscles.

And her hands....

God. Those hands.

She squeezes your hips and you bite your tongue to keep from reacting too strongly.

"Where do you keep going?" She inquires, searching your face with mild concern. She taps gently on one of your temples. "You don't always have to think so hard, you know."

Your throat is dry.

Like, desert dry.

You try to swallow but you can't.

Because she's so fucking handsome and caring in this moment.

You swallow thickly, an undeniable hunger rumbling through you. Out of complete desire, you reach up, fingertips brushing against the warmth of her brown skin.

You nod. "I know."

Then you bring your other hand up to cup her right cheek, caressing her for a few gentle moments, before traveling down to her neck. Your fingers graze against a few of her scars, rubbing gently into the skin, testing out the waters; hoping that this sort of intimacy is okay. She sighs at the feeling. Her eyes soften.

"You were screaming," She continues. "And no matter how hard I was trying to wake you, you wouldn't budge. I was worried."

Your eyes widen, realization settling within you from her admission.

She's still worried.

The kind of worry that she's never shown towards you before.

The kind of deep-seeded worry that people only have for those they really care about.

"I'm okay." You reassure her. Your hands shake as you squeeze her shoulders. "It was just a dream. Nothing worth mentioning for the time being, but I'm okay." Your chest hurts. Your throat hurts...your eyes. All of it. Feelings crash into one another, creating an impactful explosion within your heart. "You're here with me. So I'm more than okay."

Her eyes resemble something raw—almost close to...

"Okay." Her expression becomes heady. She allows her gaze to focus on your lips, incredibly transparent in her wanting—not holding back in the slightest with her intentions.

You analyze her in return, both confused and curious by her behavior. She lingers for so long, close enough for you to taste her breath, yet so far away. Your heart jumps into your throat as she peers back with an indescribable glint.

You feel a strong surge overtake you with a stuttering breath before you're leaning forward.

Lips and breath draw together, forming into the shape of one, and shooting a trail of shivers straight down your spine. Your mind buzzes, her affection unraveling you; breaking you. She's all soft skin and devastating fervor, with sounds of stars exploding between you two. The feeling of her holding you with immense regard—and the sensation of her chest pressing against yours, hands chaining you to her lap, digging into the flesh of your thighs with a delicious strength—has you falling apart pathetically.

You can certainly determine that there's been poems written about Sevika. The push-and-pull feeling of such perfection like her, with all of her charm and strength, is the sort of beauty that not every human is lucky enough to come across.

She bites and sucks and licks and it's otherworldly. Kisses melt into one another as a rhythm of panting and gasping materializes. She pulls away, lips planting into warm patterns against your neck. Your head tilts, need washing through every inch of your body.

Your grip on her shoulders tighten almost dangerously—to pull her close? Or steady yourself?—You can't be sure anymore. But she doesn't seem to mind, moaning into your mouth at the action.

Sevika is the first one that breaks away, lips puffy and pulled into a gorgeous grin.

Your lungs nearly collapse at the sight. This kind of smile that she wears is rare, laugh lines prevalent around her mouth with her gapped teeth on full display.

"As long as you continue to do that," You utter, still struggling to catch your breath.  "I'm pretty sure I'll always be okay." Then you shake your head, attempting to center yourself from the high.

She chuckles knowingly, smile widening so much that her face almost breaks. "I'll make sure to hold you to that."

[monsterpr3y]

The first draft of The Lab

Lying on the floor of my cell, filled and covered with cum, I began to reflect on how I got here. Go on an adventure, I thought. See the world and find yourself, I planned. Well, I did a little bit of that. in the end, it was finding myself that lead me here. I found that I got a rush from stealing and cheating people. That sneaking in the shadows and liberating someone's purse gave me such a thrill. The richer the mark, the more exhilaration in taking their most prized possessions. I once stole a whole ass tapestry from the wall of a manor while the owner watched me. 

That way of life caught up with me. 

As you probably suspect by now, I stole from the wrong person. A mad scientist is going to have cool shit, so when I heard rumors of one living in a secluded tower all by himself I knew I had to hit it. 

This man was devious. And I mean that in all ways. Before I even got inside he'd clocked me, magic or some invention alerting him to my presence and went completely unnoticed. Then there were the booby traps (in one case literal) everywhere, so cleverly hidden that the master thief I'd become caught maybe one in five. I didn't even notice the one that drugged me, as it was through skin contact and brushed my face. I'd like to think that without that I wouldn't have walked right into thin wires that constricted on my arms and legs, but also onto my breast's, like it was waiting for a female to walk into it.

Everything went dark after that. When I came to, I was on a cold metal table, naked, and restrained, staring up into the oversized eyes of the scientist examining me with some vision magnifying contraption.

“Wonderful, you're awake! I am so glad you came to join us!” He hustles off the stool he'd been standing on and somehow I was taken down by a scrawny halfling? I'd never live this down with the other adventurers if they found out.

“I'm sorry for trying to sneak in, but I'd heard rumors about your lab and couldn't resist wanting to take a peek” maybe if I flatter his scientific ego he'll let me go.

“Oh my dear you're about to have the best seat in the house when it comes to my experiments!” 

I didn't like the sound of that. I needed to get free, but none of my skull with lock picking would help when my hands were restrained above my head, and whatever was holding them to the table was below the table. I could barely even wiggle my fingers.

“The only intruders I've had to date were men, and they just won't do for the experiments. Their primary motivation seems to be procreation, and they are smart and can tell a human male from a female. Watching them be torn apart in the arena was enlightening however!” 

“Excuse me! You plan to do what with me? Let me go right now!” I'm finally starting to struggle, as I realize my predicament. What the hell does he mean procreation? I thought I was naked on this table because he was going to play with me, which as a female adventurer is nothing new to me. Whatever he's talking about sounds a whole lot worse.

“Oh, but you're never leaving. Who knows, maybe they'll break you so badly you enjoy it” and he's out a side door. I struggle almost manically, desperate to get away of whatever hell hole I've fallen into, but he knows what he's doing with these restraints. I would almost be excited to be restrained and taken by the scientist, bondage always made sex hotter for me, regardless of my level of willingness.

The table begins to move, but it's not just a table. It lifts so I'm in a standing position and then it begins to retract in multiple pieces, leaving me bound with my arms and legs spread in an X in the middle of the room.

“Now I'm going to start you off with just one, so I can gage what you can handle” the scientist shouts down to me from a platform about 20 feet above me, where he's sitting cross legged holding a notebook and pencil in one hand, and the other is about to pull on a rope.

Metal grates and a chain clanks behind me, but I don't have enough slack to turn and see what's coming for me. I hear a slithering coming upon me, but slimier somehow. Thrashing against my bonds I realize that his experiments are monstrosities, and he's unleashing one to fuck me. 

My inner thigh is stroked by a slimy… appendage? I can't see what it is but it's not a finger or hand, and it's joined by another and another, until 8 or more are stroking my legs and torso, the slime on them oozing and coating my skin. Without warning 2 of the appendages find what they are searching for and my cunt and ass are both invaded. I scream and struggle harder, but there's still no wiggle room in my restraints. I begin to sob as the creature moves below me, and I see a Catacomb Slug take shape, the tentacles on its bulbous head now using my holes.

I get a brief respite as it moves far enough past me that the tentacles no longer reach me, but now I can see what's coming for me, and I've never wished to be blindfolded more ardently in my life as I see it's mouth open. 

“We need to lower you by increments for the next parts” the scientist is entirely way to enthusiastic about this, completely deaf to my sobs and pleading. I lower by about 2 feet, right above the grotesque mouth with its jagged teeth, and I'm sure I'm about to die… tho death would probably be better than whatever comes next.

It's tongue inches out of its mouth, long and rough looking, with even more slime dripping from it. I will never feel clean after this. As it extends it splits in 2, as if it's been forked, as I've never seen one do that.

“Now you get to see where the experimentation has come in. It's fascinating really, I've had this pet since it was a baby, it was actually cute back then, but I wanted to see what would happen if I introduced other DNA to it while it was still in its egg sac. I didn't know what I was doing as well back then, so it was a cocktail of things and he got the forked tongue of a snake, am amphibious nature from the frog, but also that DNA mutated it's slime. Instead of having a hallucinogenic property like the frog, it first numbs it's prey, and then it begins to tingle on the skin, and as it absorbs it creates a euphoric effect”

The tingling had already begun, tho I wished I'd stayed numb. It builds and builds, somehow centering on my clit, and I am breathing heavier than I should be for how little I'm able to struggle. But then a glorious detached feeling occurs, and my mind feels released from my body as pleasure courses through all my veins. 

At that moment the 2 tongues begin to probe my holes, a glorious friction from the rough texture they have, and between that and the tingling I know I'd be soaked even without the slime. A low moan escapes me, and suddenly I no longer want to fight back. No man's cock has felt this good, no finger has elicited such pleasure as the sensations building in my clit as I'm fucked thoroughly and my first orgasm builds so intensely that my screams reverberate off the walls.

“Interesting, the subject has a much stronger response than expected. I anticipate great fun in witnessing my creatures break her.”

As my orgasm subsides I begin to lower again and the slug moves forward, its tail right below me. It lifts it up and it's cock emerges from the tip, and I suddenly am glad for any numbing and euphoria, as it's bigger than even the tongues, and knotted all along its length. 

“And now we see the results of the werewolf DNA that was added in. Surprising result really, that it's cock was the only part affected, I do hope that it doesn't break you before we're barely started, but he's never gotten a chance to use it and I feel sorry for the poor lad”

It slams it into my cunt up to the first knot, filling me so full, but feeling good so far. The first knot pops inside me, and now I'm stretched and I'm sure would be screaming if it's slime hadn't prepped me. It stays at this length and roughly fucks me, my body in pain but the slime still working on the pleasure. Faster and faster he pumps into me, a mewling sound emitting from it, and just before it cums, a secondary cock emerges and slams into my ass, just as the second knot enters my cunt, and both absolutely explode with cum, my stomach bulging from the pressure of how much has been secreted into my body. Both cocks slip out of me, and it curls up in the corner ready for a nap.

“Not even any bleeding, fantastic, excellent! You'll do wonderfully my dear” the scientist says as my bonds loosen, and he enters the room again, putting a collar and nipple clamps on me and using a chain attached to all of them to pull me from the room and lead me to the cell where I'm now laying and reminiscing, covered in the cum of multiple monsters, and replete from all the orgasms they gave me in the process.

[hbyrde36]

Caught in the Undertow

Chapter Four

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch3 <-

WC: 5778 | R: Explicit | TW: Suicidal ideation, depression | Ch 4/10 | AO3

Eddie laid on the bed, motionless, staring at the wall, listening to the sound of Steve’s footsteps retreating back down the stairs, and felt hollow. 

Wrung out. 

Like a spectator in his own body, everything was just a little…unreal.

It had all seemed at the time like it was happening to someone else, as if he were watching the night unfold from a distance. Like witnessing a trainwreck. No control of the outcome, and yet he could not look away.

The whiskey had been a mistake, that much was obvious.

But he’d been struggling to keep his happy face on, and Dustin had been watching him a little too closely, and that kid was too goddamn smart for his own good. He was going to catch on eventually unless Eddie did something about it. And then there was Steve—

Steve, who he’d managed to avoid in the chaos of his arrival, who’d posted himself up in the corner and kept his eyes on Eddie like a hawk. Like he knew. Like he could see right through the careful facade Eddie had painstakingly built just for the occasion.

And then again, in the kitchen. Steve couldn’t just let him be, no. Couldn't let Eddie indulge in the one thing that made his continued existence on this planet bearable. He had to poke and prod and worry and fuss—and act like he cared.

Steve… who threatened to break his own bathroom door down to get to him. All because Eddie had been clumsy with a switchblade. 

Because he’d been shaking with the force of his own sobs, drunk enough to see double, and when he finally worked up the courage to press that blade into his skin—missed and fumbled, and dropped it to the tile floor.

And Steve— 

Steve had known. Whether the sound had been that obvious or he’d put the pieces together because of what Eddie had shouted in the kitchen, it didn’t matter. 

And Eddie had let him in. 

He still wasn’t sure why he’d done it, or frankly how, his vision so blurred with tears he’d had to find the lock by feel with his fingertips to flip it. 

He’d never let anyone see him like that—like this. Hiding the worst of himself even from Wayne, but he wouldn't be able to hide anymore. Too many people had seen his mask slip, had heard what he said, the poisonous truth that lived in his bones, concealed beneath the clothes and the hair, the wide grins, loud mouth, and lunchtime diatribes.

There was a tentative knock on the doorframe behind him.

“Ed?”

Wayne. 

Eddie's stomach dropped.

He heard the old man breathe deep, and take a few shuffling steps over the carpeted floor before the bed dipped under his weight. Eddie turned over, eyes sliding up to look at his uncle sitting above him, taking in the familiar sight of his face, the wisps of gray and white hair along his jaw—growing whiter by the year—and the less familiar sight of that strong jaw trembling as he looked down at Eddie in turn. 

“I…” Wayne hesitated, as if thinking over his words. “Steve called me.”

Eddie didn’t know Steve even had their phone number, but somehow he wasn’t surprised. Would the other boy ever stop trying to save him?

“Son, I gotta be honest, ‘m scared out of my mind right now. I knew you were struggling with what happened t’ you, but I had no idea…” 

Eddie wanted so badly to be able to say something, anything. To fake it, to make an excuse, a joke, to take it all back and tell Wayne he was okay—that he was sorry. But he was stuck so far inside his own head that all he could do was let the waves of guilt wash over him, and the tears start flowing again.

Wayne reached out to smooth the hair back from his face, his cool hand soothing against Eddie’s warm and sweaty forehead. He melted into the touch, letting his eyes slip shut. 

It was a while before Wayne spoke again. 

“I’m starting back at work tomorrow night, and there’s no way around it. Steve’s offered to have you stay here with him for a while so you won’t have to be alone so much.”

At that, Eddie’s eyes snapped back open and he finally found his voice, though it was weak. “I don’t need a babysitter, I'm not a child.”

Wayne sighed. “No, legally you’re an adult and you can do whatever you want. Even if you weren't, I know you well enough to be sure I can’t force you to do anything, but I am asking—Ed, I’m begging you to stay here and let Steve look after you. I told you back in the hospital, you need people around you that get it. People who know what you’ve been through, and—” 

Wayne paused to glance back over his shoulder at the empty hall for a second, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I think that boy might need you every bit as much as you need him.”

Eddie scoffed. 

Right. As if Mr. Golden Boy, Savior Of The Universe needed anyone’s help, let alone Eddie’s.

“Just give him a chance. Talk to him, or pick someone else if you want, but you have to start talking to someone.” Wayne rose from the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head, something Eddie couldn’t remember the man doing since he was little, before moving away. He stopped in the doorway to look back, an overstuffed duffle bag sitting against the bedroom wall near his feet.

“I just got you back. Please don’t… don’t make me bury you, son. It ain't right for a parent to bury their child.”

Eddie was still staring out the open door, long after Wayne had left, when Steve stepped past his line of sight and into the room, set a glass of water down on the nightstand and quickly backed away wringing his hands. He looked exhausted, hair messy and a little flat as though he’d been running his hands through it a lot, and dressed in a pair of old basketball shorts and a faded t-shirt.

“I’m gonna go to bed, but I'm right across from you if you need anything,” Steve said, swiveling to point behind him. “And there’s a… a bathroom up here at the end of the hall.”

Eddie kicked his shoes off and sat up, pushing himself up against the headboard, letting his head rest against it. He stared up at the ceiling, tracking the slow movement of the fan blades as they spun lazily, anything to avoid looking into the other boy’s earnest face. “I’ll stay here for now if that’s what my uncle wants, but that doesn't mean I have to like it, and it doesn’t mean we’re friends now either—got it?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, and cleared his throat roughly. “Yeah, Eddie, I got it.”

“What do you get out of all this, anyway?” Eddie asked, his attention still carefully aimed anywhere else. “Need another merit badge to fill out your sash?”

Steve didn’t reply, only reached over to switch the room’s light off, murmuring a quiet, “good night,” as he left, and pulled the door closed behind him. 

For three days Eddie holed up in that room.

Steve left him alone for the most part. Never knocked, never tried to bother or talk to him, simply left food and water outside his door at regular intervals like he was an inmate—though Eddie was well aware he was the one who locked himself up, and not the other way around.  

They only crossed paths once, when he snuck to the bathroom just as Steve was coming out of it. Steve looked like he’d seen a ghost. 

Eddie had actually felt a little bad about that.

He spent the first day in a daze, not doing much of anything but stare at the four beige walls that surrounded him, unable to think of much of anything except the pain in his chest that had nothing to do with his rib.

The following days were better and worse at the same time. 

It’d been over a month since the bats, since he’d been dragged back from the brink of death. Over a month of darkness, feeling as low as he’d ever felt, and little by little the fog was starting to lift. He could feel a change happening within himself, and he didn’t know if he was ready to welcome it or not.

He ate and drank whatever Steve left for him.

He took a shower. 

Sorely needed after sweating out all the booze, and marinating in it for twenty four hours in his jeans. He’d never seen so many fluffy white towels in his life, and the water pressure truly was something else.

He listened to music again.

Something he hadn’t wanted to do, hadn’t been able to do since he woke up in the hospital. In the bag Wayne brought had been, not only his comfiest clothes, but his walkman, several of his favorite tapes, and the pièce de résistance: his well worn copy of The Hobbit. 

He curled up in bed with the familiar comfort of it all and felt… better.

Not good, not great, but better—clearer—more solidly in his own mind and body. 

For three nights Eddie listened from across the hall while Steve cried out in his sleep.

Two am, each night, without fail.

Nightmares.

The first night it was easy enough to ignore. Eddie was still stuck in his own head, still stewing. He was startled, yes, but the shouts were short lived, stopping when Steve must have woken himself up. He assumed this was normal for the other boy, no big deal, par for the course after so many years of fighting monsters. 

At least that’s what he told himself.

But as the nights wore on it was harder to ignore. The screams would start and Eddie would leap out of bed, stomach in knots, pulse racing as he paced the floor of his room, chewing his fingernails down to stubs until it stopped.

Something changed on the fourth night.

Eddie still wasn’t sleeping much, so he was wide awake when Steve’s nightmare began, but this time, mixed in with the wordless shouts he was used to hearing, was the sound of Steve calling out his name.

Eddie was out of bed and in the hall before realizing he’d even moved, standing right outside Steve's door with his fist raised to knock. He froze mid-motion as the screaming suddenly stopped, and pressed his ear to the wood. 

There was a muffled gasp, quiet weeping, more soft utterances of his name.

All at once, any residual anger Eddie had been holding on to, all the blame he’d been placing on Steve’s shoulders, vanished. His heart ached for the guy. Steve clearly had enough of his own problems, slept like shit, and yet still tried to help him, no matter how horrible Eddie treated him in return.  

The loud creak of bed springs made Eddie backpedal suddenly, scrambling back into his own room as silently as he could before he got caught lurking in the hall like a creep.

He held his breath, resting his head against the moulding as he listened closely. 

Light footsteps crossed the hall, and approached his own door, pausing for a long moment just outside of it. He heard Steve sigh, could almost feel the other boy’s warm breath ghosting over his face even though they were separated by several inches of hollow wood. After another beat Steve walked away without knocking, just as Eddie had done.

Eddie’s shoulder’s sagged as he finally let his breath out, stumbling over to the bed where he sat, resting his head in his hands. The further he managed to crawl out of the black hole he’d been stuck in, the more he could see that he was the only asshole here. Steve was a good guy, who’d done nothing wrong. 

And now he had to fix it. 

Fuck.

“He hasn’t left that room, Robin. It’s been days, how long am I supposed to wait for him to come around before I start freaking out?” Steve sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, whisper-shouting into the receiver.

“You’re telling me you're not freaking out now?” 

Steve groaned. “Not helping.”

“Sorry,” she said, actually sounding it for once. “He still taking the food and stuff you leave out?”

“Yeah… and we sort-of passed each other in the hall as I was coming out of the upstairs bathroom. He looked… better, I think.”

“Did he say anything?”

Steve pulled the cord as long as it would go, and laid down on the floor, starfishing. “No.”

“He’s probably just embarrassed about getting so drunk the other night. That was a pretty ugly scene.”

“Yeah.”

Robin didn’t know the half of how ugly it had gotten. 

He’d called her that night after Wayne left, fully intent on spilling his guts about the state he’d found Eddie in, but when she picked up he couldn’t do it. It felt wrong to share something so… sensitive without Eddie’s permission, to broadcast his worst moment—god Steve hoped that was the worst it got—when he already felt bad enough about intruding himself, though he was glad he did.

He only told her that Eddie would be staying with him for a while. That Wayne was going back to work and worried about leaving Eddie alone all the time. Plus, so many people knew they lived in the trailer park, people who still thought Eddie was guilty, and he worried what folks might do without anyone else around as a witness. 

“You know, we never really talked about it,” Robin said, hesitantly.

“About what?” 

“Why you couldn’t let him go. Why you fought so hard to save him that night even when it seemed hopeless.”

“He’s one of us, I would have done the same for anyone.” Steve kicked his leg out, tapping his toe nervously along the baseboard. “He got thrown into this thing in the worst way, with no warning, and he was so brave. Dustin is alive because of him.”

“I know, babe. I get that, and believe me, I’m glad you were able to save him. But what about after? You spent as much time in that hospital as Wayne did, even after he refused to see any of us. And now this?”

“I just want to help him. That’s all.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I know, but… not right now, okay?”

Steve knew what she wanted him to say, but it wasn’t something he’d even allowed himself to look too closely at yet, let alone speak aloud. 

He wasn’t sure he was ready to think about why during the week from hell, no matter what else was going on around them, his eyes always searched Eddie out. Why whenever Eddie spoke Steve found his gaze drawn to his mouth, the perfect pout of his lips. 

Now wasn’t the time to examine the fact that every day Eddie was in that hospital, Steve had felt like he couldn't breathe until he spoke to Wayne and got confirmation that he was still alive. Or what it meant that no matter how hard he tried not to, his every thought was consumed with the boy upstairs.

It was rare for Steve to get a full night’s sleep. 

Since ‘83 he’d been plagued by nightmares of flower petal mouths with far too many teeth, Russian soldiers in lab coats, and giant flesh monsters. 

He was mostly inured to it by now, but coupled with worrying over Eddie and his fear that he’d fail in his promise to Wayne to keep his nephew safe, he was even more exhausted than usual.

Steve was running.  Legs pumping, arms swinging, running-for-your-life, running.   But it wasn't his own life he was in a race against the clock for. He didn’t know why he was so sure something had gone wrong, but his gut was telling him he had to get back to the trailer, his pounding heart screaming at him that he had to make it in time.  He had to.  In the distance, he finally saw it. A giant swarm of those fucking bats, swirling above a lone figure on the ground like a dark, gruesome tornado.  The figure screamed—Eddie screamed, a blood curdling sound that shot through Steve's heart like a lance, splitting it in two.  Steve doubled his efforts, forcing his body beyond its limit, but no matter how hard he pushed it was like he was moving in slow motion. By the time he was close enough to do anything to help, the bats had long since taken Eddie to the ground—his arms and legs wrapped up in a few of their tails, pinned down to the dirt as the rest of them ravaged his body. Steve screamed the other boy’s name, still a few steps away but hoping to draw the attention of the bats away from Eddie and onto himself, but it was no use. Somewhere in the back of Steve’s mind he knew this was wrong.  He hadn’t witnessed the attack. The bats had been dead, their limp bodies littering the area when he’d arrived at Dustin’s side where he was crying over Eddie. This was a dream. A nightmare. His least favorite one, and realizing that it was in fact a dream did nothing to lessen the horror of what he was witnessing. The very real pain he was feeling as he watched someone he cared about die.   Because in this version of events, the only one worse than the reality they’d lived through, there was no amount of CPR that could bring Eddie back to him.   “Eddie, oh god. Eddie, no. Eddie!” Steve fell to his knees, took in the body below that was covered in more blood than could possibly be contained in a single human being, looked down into Eddie Munson’s lifeless eyes pointed skyward, and knew that he was gone. 

Steve woke with a gasp, tears still wet on his cheeks as he rolled over, pressing his face into his pillow to stifle the cries of Eddie’s name that still fell from his lips. 

His head ached, and his body shivered. He was freezing, coated in a layer of cold sweat.

He threw the covers off and practically jumped out of bed, knowing full well he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight, never did after he dreamed of Eddie. 

He changed his clothes, quickly peeling the wet ones off and replacing them with warm flannel pajama pants and his favorite sweatshirt. It had a comforting weight, and was overly soft from too many washings.

Venturing out into the hall he kept his steps light, stopping for a minute just outside the guest room door. He wondered if Eddie was awake in there. If Eddie heard him carrying on. If he cared. 

What he wouldn’t give right now to see Eddie’s face. Just for a second. To watch the rise and fall of his chest and know he was breathing. He raised his hand to knock but quickly thought better of it. Eddie already hated him. If he was asleep, surely a middle of the night wake up call wouldn’t improve things on that front.

The sun was up.

Birds chirped cheerfully as they flew past the windows.

And Steve had been sitting on the couch staring at the TV screen with the sound turned all the way down for fucking hours, and he was starting to get a little pissed off. 

It didn’t help that there was a throbbing behind his eyes that all but promised a migraine. 

As usual, and worse because of the nightmare, he couldn't stop thinking about Eddie. Dissecting, over and over, every moment he’d spent in the other boy’s presence since the boathouse, and honestly it was all so confusing and frustrating.

Steve shut the tv off and threw the remote down on the coffee table, hard.

And was Eddie really going to hide out in that room forever? 

Or did he just need more time?

Fuck it. 

Steve pushed himself to his feet and stormed up the stairs.

Eddie’d had plenty of time, and all he’d done with it was push everyone further and further away. Maybe it was time to try something else.

Breathing heavily, as though he’d run a mile, and with the throbbing in his head still pounding along to the beat of his heart, Steve rapped his knuckles against the guest room door, tapping his foot impatiently on the carpet as he waited to see if the other boy would respond. 

Surprisingly, the door swung open only a few seconds later, revealing a sleep rumpled Eddie, wild hair a tangled mess, piled on top of his head, rubbing his eyes as he attempted to stifle a yawn.

“Steve?”

It threw Steve off balance. He’d sort-of expected it to be a fight to even get Eddie to open the door, but maybe in his half-asleep state he’d had a lapse in judgment? 

Whatever the case, he took advantage of it and barged right in, pushing past Eddie to pace the floor near the bed. The room wasn’t a mess, but it certainly looked more lived in than Steve had ever seen it, and the sight of Eddie’s things strewn around made his stomach flip and something warm want to settle in his chest. 

Focus.

Eddie stood nervously off to the side, watching Steve’s progress back and forth with wide eyes.

“I know you’re going through something awful right now,” Steve began, finally coming to a stop in front of the other boy and squaring his shoulders. “But it’s not okay for you to close yourself off from everyone who cares about you.”

Eddie held a hand up. “Steve, wait. I need to—”

“No. I'm not done,” Steve cut him off. “Do you think you’re the only person in the world who gets depressed? The only one who’s thought about ending it? Sometimes the only reason I can find to get myself out of bed in the morning is that the shit might hit the fan again. But that’s not—” 

The dim light of the room suddenly felt blindingly bright. Steve sucked in a breath, wincing in pain as a high pitched ringing sound began in his ears. He raised a hand to his head like he could hold it off, and tried to speak again. “You can’t—”

A new spike of pain brought on a wave of nausea. Steve’s vision swam, and he lurched forward, losing his balance. He braced for a fall but found strong arms wrapping themselves around his waist, a warm chest pressed against his own for a moment as Eddie held him upright, before guiding him down onto the bed.

“Woah there, big boy. Let's sit you down before you hurt yourself.”

No matter that they had more important things going on right now, or how much pain he was in, it was still an effort to ignore the flutter he felt at hearing Eddie call him that again. 

Steve took a deep breath, digging his feet into the carpet to try and ground himself. All he wanted was to curl up into a ball until this stupid headache went away, but he needed Eddie to hear him. 

He opened his mouth, but lost whatever he was about to say as Eddie took a seat next to him, eyes full of concern, and began rubbing circles into his back. 

“Just relax for a minute,” Eddie murmured.

“But—” he started to argue but Eddie gently shushed him. 

“I get it, okay? I’ve been a real dick, and you wanted to come in here and tell me off. As you should. But… listen, man. I owe you an apology. More than an apology, and I know it doesn’t exactly make sense but I've been so fucking mad at you this whole time. I know it wasn’t right. You didn’t deserve that, and I'm—I'm sorry.”

“Why?.”

“Why am I sorry?” Eddie asked.

“Why were you mad?”

“You know why,” Eddie sighed. “You heard… and saw.”

Steve bit his lip. “I just want to understand.”

Eddie looked away, taking his arm back from Steve to hug himself. “Please don’t make me say it again,” he whispered.

Another flash of pain like lightning inside his skull had Steve doubling over, hissing, and Eddie's hands were back on him in an instant. 

“S–s–sorry,” Steve forced out. “I get these really bad…”

“Migraines?” Eddie guessed. 

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.

“Shouldn’t you be lying down then?”

“But, no,” Steve groaned. “You’re finally talking to me.”

“Steve—” Eddie sighed.

He sounded so sad. Steve wished it didn’t feel like his head was splitting apart so he could tell him how much he hated it. How he would do anything to help Eddie feel better if he’d only let him. 

“—If you let me help you to your room right now, I promise I’ll still be talking to you later when you feel better. Deal?”

Steve tried to nod, and immediately regretted it, wincing. “Deal.”

In no time Eddie had him tucked into bed with all the lights off, and went downstairs to hunt for painkillers and a glass of water. 

Steve was lying on his side, eyes scrunched up tight, just trying to breathe through it all when he heard Eddie tiptoe back into the room. There was a soft pop, and the rattle of pills being shaken out of a bottle. 

“Can you sit up?”

Steve let out a whine before he could stop it, and he was so embarrassed, but it hurt. His body felt like it weighed a million pounds and he was beyond tired.

Eddie didn’t say a word, just climbed up onto the bed, gently maneuvering Steve around until he was sort-of half sitting up in the other boy’s lap. A position Steve never thought he’d be in, and he was a little pissed that he couldn't even enjoy it. 

Was that something he wanted? To be in Eddie’s lap and enjoy it?

Somehow Eddie managed to both hold him up and reach for the pills he’d apparently laid out on the nightstand, handing them to Steve who was, mercifully, capable of popping them into his own mouth. Followed up with a glass of water which Eddie helped him hold onto, both of their hands wrapped together around the cup as Steve took small, grateful sips. 

He expected Eddie to go now that there was nothing more to do but wait for the pills to ease his pain enough to let him sleep it off, but he seemed content to sit there with Steve’s head resting on his hip.  

Fingers, tentative at first, found their way into Steve’s hair and began kneading lightly at the base of his neck. He moaned softly, the gentle touch bringing a hint of relief, and again he was fucking mortified at the display he was making, but Eddie let out a breathy chuckle, and his touch became a little more confident, and Steve thought maybe it was okay.

Sometime later Steve woke to an empty bed. 

He didn’t even remember falling asleep but judging by the late afternoon sun trying its best to shine in through his window shade, he’d been out for hours, and the searing pain from before had dulled into an annoying but manageable headache. 

He rolled out of bed, eager to find Eddie and continue their conversation from earlier, assuming everything he remembered had actually happened and wasn’t some kind of fucked up fever dream, but stopped short of the door, spotting a few more of the pills he’d taken earlier sitting out next to a refilled glass of water. A note scrawled sideways on a loose piece of notebook paper was laid beside it.

For when you wake up. 

I’ll be downstairs. 

– E

There was something painfully adorable about the fact that Eddie signed the little note when they were the only two people in the house. Steve downed the pills and the entire glass of water, and made his way down the steps.

It wasn’t hard to find Eddie. He just had to follow the music.

There he was, hair like a bird’s nest, dressed in ratty old sweats and a t-shirt with more holes than not, singing along under his breath and headbanging in the middle of the kitchen to whatever song was blaring so loudly from his headphones that Steve could actually make out the individual notes of the guitar riff.

He continued to watch from the doorway with barely contained laughter as Eddie bounced around the room like a madman, moving from one cabinet to another until he seemed to find what he was looking for, pulling a plate out and turning to set it down next to the toaster.

Their eyes met over the appliance. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie shrieked, jumping back with a hand held to his chest. He ripped the headphones from his head, putting them and the walkman down on the counter too. “Stomp your feet or something, would ya? Could give a guy a heart attack sneaking up on him like that!”

Steve grinned, stepping into the room. He had this horrible urge to walk right up to the other boy and wrap his arms around his waist. 

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “How long you been standing there, Harrington?”

“I saw nothing, I swear.” Steve threw his hands up.

Eddie huffed, his attention back on his task as he loaded bread into both sides of the toaster. 

“So, how’s the head?”

Steve’s face instantly grew hot, and he saw the moment Eddie’s own words hit him, a hint of pink spreading across his cheeks.

“It’s, uh.” Steve swallowed hard, and had to pause to clear his throat. “Much better, thanks.”

Eddie held his gaze, absently running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Good, that’s… that’s good.”

The toaster popped, startling them both, and Eddie rushed to pull the slices out and slid the plate in Steve’s direction. “I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of making you my signature dry toast. For the record, I can actually cook, but I wasn’t sure what you’d be able to stomach.”

Steve stared down at the plate and thought he might cry, which was ridiculous but this was... exactly what he needed. “It's perfect. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, man.” Eddie ducked his head. “You’ve been taking care of me for days. I’m just trying to return the favor.”

They went into the living room together, at Eddie’s insistence, so Steve could sit down while he nibbled his toast. 

“Alright,” Eddie blew out a long breath, keeping his eyes forward, looking out the room’s wide windows and picking at the edge of a throw pillow as he spoke. “I said I'd talk, and I feel like you deserve some kinda explanation so—”

“Wait, Eddie. First… you don’t owe anyone anything, okay? But if you want to talk, I’d really like to listen.”

Eddie nodded, still not looking at him. “I’ve always been a little… messed up, I guess? All this—this isn’t new for me. One time, when I was little, before I came to live with Wayne, my Dad got picked up on a drug charge. My mom was nowhere to be found, so CPS put me in a group home for a while. I can vividly remember laying on that bed at night, staring up at the ceiling, hoping I'd fall asleep and not wake up again. It was scary. It wasn’t even that bad of a place or anything. I just… I don’t know. I get stuck in this place where everything feels wrong, like I'm bad, and I'm so alone but I deserve it, and my chest hurts—my skin feels like it’s crawling. I just want it all to stop." 

Eddie’s breath caught, and a single tear rolled down his face. He wiped at it aggressively, sniffling. "I’m sorry, I’m sure I sound crazy right now.”

“Not crazy.” Steve slid over on the couch. He wanted so badly to reach out and take the other boy’s hand, but wasn’t sure if it would be too much. He settled for letting their knees brush.

“I’m not always like that, though. Obviously.” Eddie went on. “I enjoy my life a lot of the time, it’s just hard to remember that when I’m in the middle of the shit. I love my friends, and Hellfire, and the band. But then I'll… sink. And sometimes there’s a reason, right? Something shitty happens and I’ll be bummed about it for a while, but other times it just comes out of nowhere.”

“Have you ever thought about talking to someone about it?” Steve asked.

“Like a shrink?” Eddie scoffed, finally swinging his gaze around to meet Steve’s. “I live in a trailer park, Harrington. Besides, I’m not sure I’d feel safe sharing my secrets with a stranger like that anyway.”

Steve chucked. “Ok, I get that. Not a doctor then, but like, Wayne?”

“I couldn’t dump this on him, he does enough for me already. I never wanted him to have to worry, though I guess that ship has sailed.”

“What about me? You could talk about Upside Down stuff if you wanted to, and I don’t know what other deep dark secrets you might have, but after everything I’ve seen, and done, I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would bother me or freak me out.”

Eddie hummed, shifting his body, moving to look Steve full in the face for a long while as he studied it, the length of his leg now pressed up against Steve’s thigh. “And if I said that I was gay?”

Steve felt like he should be more surprised, but mostly he just felt strangely… relieved. And he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with that.

Still, in the months since he’d gotten to know Robin he’d been practicing for this moment. Ready in case anyone he cared about ever came out to him again. 

“Then, I would say,” Steve began slowly, and finally let himself grab Eddie’s hand. “Thank you for telling me, and trusting me.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed, more air than the actual vowel sound.

Steve squeezed his hand. “And it doesn’t change anything.”

Which was true, but also a lie, because it might just change everything.

Eddie squeezed back. “Thanks, Steve.”

Chapter 5

Thanks and love to @penny00dreadful and @pearynice for all your help and encouragement with this.

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