#by the sea for this one for whatever reason so here you go!!

[mad-hunts]

@forensisch sent🔪 to walk in on my muse standing over a dead body.

the smell of sea salt and blood intermixed with one another wasn't quite as unpleasant as barton thought it was going to be initially. there was quite a bit of the iron-rich substance around as well at the moment, too — both his and the man he'd just killed. though it was mostly faust's, his newest victim, as he'd only been able to cut his hands as barton had immediately reached out to cover where faust was striking at the time; and this was in an attempt to defend himself. the blonde let out an exasperated sigh as he laid beside the man who was now a corpse, almost completely out of breathe. faust had led him around like a chicken with its head cut off just to try to finish the job of killing him.

but in order to understand how things had ended up in barton going on what was essentially a chase to dispatch him, we'll have to rewind to earlier that evening. he'd been looking for more victims to quote unquote 'procure' in places that were infamous for attracting tourists. and one of these places was a nice, underground bar, complete with a pianist as well as a very 'speakeasy like' aesthetic. that was where faust had approached him. which, was a bit unusual considering he was usually the one to have to initiate a conversation with his prospective kills, but the man seemed to have beat him to the punch. it seemed like he might've been purposely looking for someone to befriend but there was a heavy undertone of something else there. something romantic, as faust had expressed interest in them 'getting out of there.'

so, how could barton refuse? it was even better of a situation than he could've imagined. barton didn't have to feign interest in the man up front as he was already interested in him, and from that point forward, they'd agreed to drive to a secluded spot near the main beach of gotham in barton's car. this was, of course, under the guise of him 'knowing someplace where they could be alone.' why he really went there though is because, at this hour, there'd be no one else around... so it'd serve as the perfect killing ground. faust seemed quite eager to get the show on the road then and before long, they were kissing. little did he know that barton was just using this as a distraction so that he could stab him quickly. but in the end, things didn't end up going according to plan, as faust caught wind of barton pulling something out of his pocket at just the right time. and he'd dodged the original swipe that barton attempted to cut him with.

'well, so much for this being an easy kill,' barton had thought at the time whenever he could only watch as faust stumbled out of the car and ran towards a shed more near the surf. from there, a lengthy fight had ensued between the two of them, with faust throwing things at him and even disarming him at one point to deliver a few slashes with barton's own knife to his hands. but he'd made one crucial mistake during all of this — he left one of his blindspots open — and as such, barton was able to turn the tables, hitting faust in a rather painful spot (the kidney) to force him into a daze. this is when he was finally able to sink his blade into faust's heart and how he ended up in his current position. barton was just starting to get up when he heard someone, or something, jiggling at the doorknob.

barton had barely enough time to say ' what the hell? ' before he was bombarded with the sight of someone who looked vaguely familiar opening the door of the shed. he looked from faust's dead body, then, to the stranger and made a split decision to pull the other inside by the bicep. this was so that johann couldn't leave to alert anyone. barton stifled an incredulous but also snide chuckle, before pressing the tip of his knife to his throat, ❝ oh no... come here. you're not going anywhere, you hear me? ❞ he leaned in to get into the other's face, ❝ now don't lie to me when i ask you this or i'll kill you twice as fast. the only reason why i would think anyone like you would be here at this hour is if they were following me. so, have you been? ❞

[sharkneto]

How is Migrations rated that highly on Goodreads. Absolutely insufferable book, glad to be done with it.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny dragged up another plastic wrapped body from the bay.

“It’s you. What are you doing?”

“Oh, holy smokes!” Danny screeched. “What-! Oh, it’s you! The litterer!”

Batman stood in front of Danny, cape draped around his shoulders and a far better sight to see than the last time Danny had seen the guy.

“… I’m Batman.” He introduced himself to Danny awkwardly.

“Uh huh. You missed a couple of things cleaning up the beach last time.” Danny dropped the body on the pebbled shore of the bay and crossed his arms. He sent Batman an unimpressed look. “You’re just like your city. There’s trash all over the water!”

Batman glanced down.

“That is a body.”

Danny scowled.

“No, that’s plastic. Plastic does not belong in the ocean.”

Batman sighed. For some reason, Danny thought he seemed less… antagonistic. Wait, did he think Danny killed the guy?!

“That is a body wrapped in plastic.”

Fuck it.

“If it was a body, then bury it. Or decompose it before you people decide to dump it into the water. Even the sharks have the decency to decompose when they’re dead. Do you know how long plastic takes to deteriorate??”

Batman glanced to the side, where the line of plastic wrapped masses had caught his eye to begin with.

“I do. Did all of these come from the bay?”

“Quite obviously, yes. I don’t have enough time to clean the waters! Ancients, it’s like they’re multiplying!” Danny knew why they were multiplying. It’s because Gothamites were getting murdered and dumped weekly. The problem is that Danny has classes and assignments to complete and he couldn’t be out here every week.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, will you? And how do you plan on doing that when you couldn’t even properly clean the beach of your plane? I even stacked it up nicely for you to pick up!”

Alright, so maybe Danny had a couple of grudges. Like… a solid one that’s based on the hours of sleep he missed cleaning up after Batman and the wreck.

“We didn’t get everything?”

“No.” Danny huffed. “Whatever. Just figure out what to do with these bodies. I was not looking forward to digging graves for all of them.”

“You were going to dig graves for them?” Batman sounded off.

Danny scowled again. “I’m dead, genius.” And now Batman looked like someone ran over his dog. “Respecting the dead is important and graves are important for the dead. How else would we know we’re remembered?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Humans,” he muttered, like he wasn’t half human himself.

“Anyways, I’m leaving. Handle this properly or else I’m haunting you.”

“Wait-!” Batman said, but Danny had already disappeared.

So, while Batman had an angst crises at two thirty in the morning and thirty new unidentified corpses to contend with, Danny Fenton flew back to his apartment and passed out on his shitty couch.

——

“You need to stop.”

“Pay me to stop, then. What are your villains going to do? Kill me? I’d like to see them try.”

Danny looked Batman right in his lenses and plopped another body down at the man’s feet.

“I can tell you who they are for a fee.” Danny offered the vigilante. “Some of these still have shades of their souls attached still.”

“What.”

Danny tilted his head, moon once more lighting a halo of flickering white flames around his head. “$100 per identity.”

Batman stared.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

HI SWEETIEEEE, LOVE UR WRITING

Can you PLEAAAAASEEE make reader with breeding kink? Like, how would Sanji, Luff and ussop react to their partner asking for being filled/breed?

Btw, tell me I'm cool for asking without anon or I'll cry.

UR THE COOOOLEST FOR ASKING WITHOUT ANON GIRLY!! i salute your confidence, also ur veryyyy pretty (i stalk you through your window) and also here's the filth you want mwuahh 😚😚

𐙚thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace 'n law! vs breeding kink!

NOT PROOFREAD. JUST PURE HORNY. cw: they all kinda wanna be dads. im sorry. i just wrote it. they wanna be dads now. its cannon. pussydrunk!men. nsfw includes: praise, a lot of overstimulation and talks of "being a dad" and "getting a mini-me", penetration, cunnilingus, loads of creampie [obviously.] and smex. lots of smex. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: going insane at the mere idea.

❤️"ngh~ hah again." from the way luffy said it, you're not quite sure whether he was asking or telling. but you weren't sure of a lot of things like where he ended and you began, which round were you on, yada yada. eitherways, you shouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours, not when you're the reason the captain of your ship was panting like this against you. hot huffs clashing against your skin with every strained movement of his hips. all because you had had the audacity to come up to the captain of the ship, pull him by his shirt to your room, strip and tell him to "fill you up." like are you insane?! did you want to kill him?! ❤️you're lucky that your captain has a strong heart, and an even stronger will... because now his hips were bucking into you wildly, hot stings against your thighs where he collided over and over and over again. whispering like a man gone mad, "fill you up, p-please. you wanted th-that right? you want me to fuck you like this? over 'n over 'gain?" and you must have been on a mission from the marines cause you just caught your trembling, bottom lips and hiccupped out a soft, "y-yes, please, cap'n." oh that wretched nick-name, goddamit. ❤️and now he's rutting into you harder, his tongue pushing against yours in such a lewd display of love. when he parted from from you, strings of glistening saliva connected you both. before they dropped downwards, stagnating against his bottom lips. "gonna have a little me runnin' around, i promise." monkey d luffy grinned, so pussy-drunk from the way you were clenching and gnawing at his aching dick. you wanted it just as much as he did, huh? with short, persistent thrusts into your gummy walls, he's cumming inside you once again, "one more time, p-pretty. promise this'll be the last. hah gotta make sure i get it right, y-yeah?" liar. he said that the last three times too.

🍀roronoa zoro: daddy or father? you choose. ps: both.

💚whatever you expected, this was not it. when you had waltzed into zoro's room while he was napping, closed the lock behind you, straddled his hips and huskily beg for him to fill you up, you didn't expect this. you didn't expect the man who was reluctant to even think about a family to prep you for his cock like he wanted a kid right fucking now. 💚you didn't expect the goddamn demon of the sea, former marine-hunter and the current first mate of your crew to caress your cheek so softly, to look you in your eyes with nothing but devotion as he thrusted his fingers into you so mean. "you're serious?" he mumbled against your skin and you nodded, half-delirious from the unfaltering pumps and your crescendo into another orgasm, "ye-yeah, i am, zoro." the swordman grinned, chasing his action with a mean slap to your aching cunt. fuck. and for a moment you saw something inherently holy in his action, "you want me to fill you up? you wanna make me a dad, angel?" "ngh ohmygod—" your eyes rolled back as his nimble fingers messily circle your clit before pinching the nub slowly. his voice husked, "my girl wants me to fuck her till i get a mini-me around?" 💚of course you cannot now blame roronoa zoro for the way he was fucking you without any breaks. not when you were the one who had nodded and assured him that a little him would be soo cute. "me? a dad?" zoro mumbled again. and for someone who only talked in grunt and groans and huffs when he was fucking you like he was going to ruin you, he sure was talking a lot. he repeated, "shit, my girl's gonna make me a dad?" "zoro, no-no more, please—" you pawed at his biceps, trying to pry him off of you. you could practically feel yourself filled to the brim, the milky white pouring out of your so obscenely and collecting at the base of his pretty cock with every little thrust into you. "no, no. no." he almost sounded cocky when he pulled his dick back and used his fingers to stuff them back in, "come on, now. don't waste any." he grinned, feral, "'m gonna be a fucking dad." jesus christ, what kind of demon did you let out tonight?

🫐vinsmoke sanji: living out his dreams (while buried in you).

💙honestly, you must have had courage pouring through you veins to ask sanji to fill you up. him and fatherhood were no joke. vinsmoke sanji had seen you for exactly 1.52 seconds when he realized he would have a family with you immediately, or get rejected over and over till he gets you and then have a family with you. 💙"and th-then i'd get her whatever she wants." sanji rambled on, hips stuck in a periodic rhythm as his tip caught against your g-spot again and again. "s-sanji." you stuttered, trying to throw your head over your shoulders to meet his flushed face. he had held your back flush against his chest, face reddened and lips trembling as he kissed your neck. your heart fluttered at his reaction, "there's- we d-don't have a kid yet... y'know that, right?" because from the way he was planning, it sure seemed like the kid was alive and well in his mind. the blonde nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his finger slowly thumbing your clit, using your wetness to his leverage to bring yourself to destruction once more, "so, what, love? i'll fuck you till i get it, right?" 💙and who were you to deny him of that when his fingers glided through your folds easily and he rocked his hips gently, trying to coax another orgasm out of your tired bones. his breath was hot against your shoulder, "we're gonna have such a cute kid, r-right, love?" "mhm, w-we will." you nodded, the pit in your stomach tightening cruelly at his candied words. and he smiled against your shoulder, words slurring at the thoughts, "god, she'd be so cute." "sanji," you whined, your voice shaking as he finally pulled himself out. the warm fluid cascaded down your folds and sanji tsked in mock distress, "shh, looks like i gotta do it all over again." don't complain. you're the one who made him this way.

🦋portgas d. ace: don't ask for what you can't handle.

🧡"a-ace." your voice waivered pathetically as his hot breath played against your trembling pussy. his grin was cocky, eyes hidden by his hat as he husked against your wetness, "what?" "s-stop teasing." you tried, only for him to laugh at your pathetic efforts to sound stern. he tipped his face back, eyes glinting with something malignant, "you started it, baby." "i wasn't teasing." 🧡oh so you weren't teasing when you walked into his room, interrupted his paperwork and asked him so, so nicely to fill you up tonight? ace's eyebrows quirked up in part-surprise, part-delight as he slowly kissed your inner thigh. eyes never leaving yours. he smiled all over again, "you want me knock you up? give you my kid? awh, want me to fuck you till i get it right?" oh and the way you averted your eyes, looking oh-so-shy at his question, it had ace wanting to ruin you all over again. 🧡you were spread so deliciously on his bed, your glistening cunt on display just for him to edge you and watch you drip over and over again. the sheets underneath were soiled from your juices, he was sure his crew-mates would tease him to no extent with the way you were screaming his name but none of that mattered. when you writhed against him, your aching hands pushing his pretty face away and pulling him back into you all over again, ace hummed, "what? too much already? but we haven't even started." not when he took his hat off and gave you bestial grin. untamed, animalistic, primal. portgas d ace just made a promise, "when i finally give you what you want, don't you dare run away. or i think we both know how it'll end." it'll end with you stuffed full of him. it'll end with his finger past your pretty lips, with you choking on your own moans and his thick digits as he pumped you full. it'll end with him humming, "running away? no. don't you dare." after all, portgas d. ace never broke a promise.

🪻trafalgar d. water law: doc please don't knock her up.

💜your boyfriend was a doctor. surely, you must have more common sense than to bother him while he was already drowning under paperwork with the ideas of a little you and him running around. surely. "'s a terrible id-idea," he stuttered uncharacteristically as you has fiddled with his shirt, giving him such a sickly sweet smile, "why? you don't wanna?" "no—" his voice faltered as you slowly perched upon his lap and undid his button one by one. "'s just a kid is a huge responsibility, and we're not r-ready," his breath hitched when you kissed his neck. your words stilled against the column of his throat, "pretty please, doc?" it's like you lived to raise his blood pressure. 💜so, now back was was pressed into the cold wood of his table, your knees pulled apart on his broad chest. his dick slipped in and out of you as his tattooed fingers pinched your clit. "l-law, please." your eyes were brimming with tears. aching, fat droplets that fell down as he continued to fuck you on that creaking wooden desk. you babbled as he rut into you harder, flushed tip bumping against your abused g-spot, "'m done, i-i'm sorry ngh, c'mon." "you're hah— crying?" don't let anyone know but maybe law was a bit of a sadist with the way he grinned, "i thought you wanted this?" 💜good point. you were the one who wanted to be pinned down onto that wretched desk and fucked into till you lost the feeling in your legs and your body trembled with every shallow way he drilled into you. so, take it. any faltering whines and moans were pointless. his actions were unhurried, pace rhythmic even as you spasmed around him due to the overstimulation. as your velvety holes gnawed at him, the doctor found himself spilling into you with little to no sanity left in him. "hah fuck—" law breathed heavily, eyes going wide as he pulled out and saw his milky essence dripping out of you so obscenely. his gaze fell upon your flushed face. your eyes were clenched shut, mouth parted in utter bliss. all reason and rhyme left the man as he found himself nudging his tip back into your trembling cunt, "shit. come on, baby. you wanted this." he isn't lying. you did want it.

a/n: first time writing law, lowkey nervous teehee 🤭🤗. i come out of the writers block on and off so im sorry im shit at posting. also i know i wrote ace n law longer okay I KNOW DONT TELL ME SHHH. i just got carried away 👉🏻👈🏻. couldn't write ussop for the life of my but i hope you like it anyways @shinysp4rk mwuah <3 m.list

[primofate]

Warning: angsty

You've been isekai'd to Teyvat.

For whatever reason it is, and whatever fantasy you've had of being whisked away into another world.

Maybe you woke up one day under the tree in Windrise.

Maybe you hated your life so much you wished so hard to be somewhere else and when you opened your eyes you were in the streets of Liyue.

Or maybe it was an unfortunate accident and you found yourself floating in the seas of Fontaine.

Regardless, you choose who picks you up.

Is it Diluc, who somehow finds you passed out in his vineyard?

Kinich who catches you when you just start falling out of the sky?

Alhaitham, who thinks it troublesome that he has to get you acquainted with Sumeru and the Akademiya?

Scaramouche who was suddenly led by the Aranara to where you appeared in the forest and slept?

You might think that going to a new world, Teyvat, of all places, would be exciting, but in reality, it would be frightening too.

No friends. No family. Monsters are out to get you. Nowhere to live.

Your chosen person, however, manages to keep you safe. Manages to get you more familiar with the world. Manages to build your life up in this unknown place.

They've taken care of you, have become your friend. Have become a lifeline for you.

Though some of them may bark and complain about how you know nothing at all, or seem to scoff at your problems. (Scaramouche, Xiao, Alhaitham)

And some might be hot or cold. You don't know if they care or not, cause sometimes they're nice, and the next they pull away (Diluc, Dainsleif, Kazuha)

Then there's ones who genuinely have taught you about Teyvat. Have integrated your existence into their every day life. (Tighnari, Neuvillette, Baizhu, Kaveh, Thoma)

And the ones who gave you purpose. Since you're here now, it's important to feel that you belong. (Wriothesley, Zhongli, Albedo, Cyno, Kinich)

In some ways because they were the ones who found you they do feel responsible for you. Inevitably, you spend a lot of time together. Where he goes, you usually go too, sometimes even in dangerous situations.

And so, what happens then, when, one day, out of the blue, you tell him:

"I found a way back home,"

By that time he might have already forgotten that you weren't from this world. That you had somewhere to go back to. That you could actually disappear just as easily as you appeared into his life. That next to him was not really your original place.

So, what then?

(I'd write this for every male character if I had the time)

[wonderjanga]

Warfare

You see, Marvel’s mentioned the Wisdom of Solomon before. The JL never really thought much about it. As a result, the JL just thinks Marvel has all these… interesting ideas but just never says anything about them. Though, there are a couple times the ideas are actually voiced. (They don’t know Billy is just parroting whatever Solomon or occasionally another God with tell him)

Like the time Batman and Marvel got stranded on a planet that was stuck in the middle of war. They were promised

Rebel Leader: “Do either of you have any ideas to bring to the table?”

Batman: “No. Marvel?”

Marvel: “Huh? Oh uh… well I could magic a plague into the water near them. You said they’re using it for their water source, right? Then, when they’re weak, we can go around and take them out.” *sounds hesitant*

Batman: “Hmm… That could be a good idea, but what sort of plague are we talking about?”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “What.”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “Marvel, that’s fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “Well, if we’re quick, it we can get to them before they die.”

Batman: *stares for a bit, holding back a sigh* “We don’t even know if Cholera will affect their biology the same way it does humans.”

Rebel Leader: “What is this Cholera?”

Batman: “It’s a deadly waterborne disease.”

Rebel Leader: “I see… And you’re unsure whether it will work with our physiology… might I propose a different disease?”

So yes, biological warfare, that’s our first thing. Batman proceeded to spend a lot of time convincing the Rebel Leader not to nearly kill an entire group of people with their version of Cholera.

Then there was the time Bruce and Marvel were working together and got held up in a shootout at a lab.

Marvel: *looking at the various chemicals in the lab* “Gosh, I remember my first exposure to chlorine gas.” *getting nostalgic* (He’s from the 1940s in this one, guys)

Batman: “You’ve been exposed to chlorine gas?”

Marvel: “Yeah, and let me tell you, those dang Nazis were horrified when it didn’t work on me. Don’t worry though, we’re gonna be making mustard gas instead.”

Batman: “Captain, we are not doing that.”

Marvel: “Why? We have all the available ingredients.”

Batman: “Marvel.” *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Mustard gas can be fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “My bad.”

*more silence*

Batman: “Is this why you always let others plan?”

Marvel: “Are you gonna look at me weird if I say yes?”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Yes, but it won’t be visible through my cowl)

This incident checks chemical warfare off the list. Bruce is now concerned as to why most of Marvel’s ideas are either nearly fatal or just fatal.

Then there was the time Marvel went undercover with Bruce Wayne, not Batman for whatever reason. They then got attacked by pirates while on a ship trying to gather information about some supervillain.

Bruce and Marvel: *taken cover under a table while the pirates fire cannon balls at them*

Bruce: “Any ideas?” *peaks over the cover only for a cannonball to whiz right past his head*

Marvel: “I think I have one. So here’s what I’m thinking. I take out their mast, steal all their oars, and then push them out to sea and let them drift wherever.

Bruce: “That’s… Intense. Wouldn’t they starve if you just let them drift?”

Marvel: “I guess. If they’re not saved, I mean.”

Bruce: *stares with the most deadpan face* “How about I come up with a plan instead?”

Marvel: “You got it boss.”

And last but not least, the physical warfare.

By the way, Billy doesn’t know Bruce is the Bat. No, no, no, he just thinks the guy is someone Batman wants him to work with. He was a little surprised to see the dude act all brooding like Mr. Batman when he had heard from others that he was a party boy. Oh well, not his business. Meanwhile, Bruce doesn’t know Marvel thinks he’s just interacting with a capable civilian.

That last part was inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s reblog of this post. Thanks for letting me write with your idea :)

[gotstabbedbyapen]

Why Apollo actually didn't have beef with Odysseus (spoiler for the Wisdom Saga)

Heads up, fellas: The rambling below contains spoiler for Epic the Wisdom Saga!

As we may know, in God Games, Athena needed to convince half of the Olympian council to approve Odysseus' release from Calypso's island. Apollo is the first god Athena encountered and the easiest for her to convince.

Now, why is that? Why does Apollo's beef with Odysseus seem way too easy to rebuke? He barely has any connection with the Sirens aside from the catchy songs, so why did he use them to "accuse" Odysseus (heavy on the quote-unquote because he barely even tried) and not the sacking of Troy, the murder of Astyanax, or the violation of the cows?

Here's my theory: Apollo has no real grudges against Odysseus. Apollo has every reason to be mad with the mentioned instances, but he is also the god of reason and rationality and knows there is no point in being angry.

First, as far as I know, Odysseus had not directly offended Apollo in the Trojan War or during his journey home. Apollo won't just harm anyone, he'd only take retribution against those who disrespected him greatly.

Second, the City of Troy had always been destined to fall so if it wasn't for Odysseus' wooden horse, someone else would have caused its demise. Apollo can't fault Odysseus for being part of the city's inevitable destiny.

Third, Apollo should be mad at Odysseus for killing an infant because he's the protector of the young, right? Well, in The Horse and The Infant, it was Zeus who told Odysseus that Astyanax was prophesied to take revenge on the Greek kings when he grew up, and he had to kill the infant to prevent that. Apollo is not one to go against his father's decree, so he wouldn't be mad at Odysseus for following suit.

(And if you look from a mythological standpoint, if Astyanax actually grew up to cause destruction to the Trojan War survivors, imagine how many sons and daughters of the Greek kings would suffer because the prophesied one was spared.)

Finally, why was he not mad with the cow thing??? Simple!

The cows were not even Apollo's, but Helios'. Apollo already gave his cows to Hermes in exchange for the lyre. So when Odysseus' crew killed the cows, they offended Helios, not Apollo. Of course, you could say Apollo should be mad on Helios' behalf, but that'll take us to point 2...

The crew killed the cows while Odysseus begged them to not. Odysseus didn't commit the crime or enable it, so he was in the clear. And lastly...

Odysseus' crew were already punished by death and Odysseus was left drifting in the sea and stuck on Calypso's island for seven years to the point of driven insane, so whatever "association" he could possibly have with the violation of the cows should be paid enough.

All that aside, Apollo has little to no beef with Odysseus and only makes up a flimsy "reason" to be mad out of obligation. He didn't care about bringing justice to Athena's favorite mortal, he probably only wanted to have fun in the family drama because hey, how often do you get to see your oldest sister asking for a favor from your King-god father?

[xiao-come-home]

Even MORE pre-release Boothill. Please bear with me im doing my best,, slightly sug/gestive in one paragraph 🤸‍♀️

I've read somewhere that Boothill short-circuits when he's embarrassed AND I STAND BY IT. 1000%. I am here to spread this like a disease. His system is definitely able to process his emotions, but when you do something that makes his heart skip a beat, he freezes in his spot, his cheeks gain the most beautiful scarlet color... And then you hear the worst combination of malfunctioning robotic noises, AND then sparks fly off of him. Might have to wait a few minutes until he comes back...

Boothill might look like he's calm outside, but he just FEELS the blue screen coming when things get too heated with no break whatsoever or too much fluids go past the protective metal plates. His body stops in place, is absolutely unresponsive, and his eyes flash blue.

Don't worry though, your Boothill has a restart button, right in the middle of his upper back, hidden by his half-vest (or.. whatever that is). He might overheat a little bit though, so be careful not to give yourself unnecessary burns.

In rare cases when his blue screens get REAL bad, you have to stick a USB drive he gave you in those special slots he has on the left side of his hips to bring him back.

Boothill most definitely does not sleep, but gets recharged by electricity or fuel instead. Perhaps that's the reason for the hole he has on his back? Either way, it gives you an opportunity to "plug him up", which he hates, despises even, to hear from you when he feels low on energy (he still wants a goodnight kiss btw).

Boothill swallows bullets. He also spits them out when needed.. usually, he's very careful not to spit them into your mouth when you kiss, but gravity betrays him on his worst days.

Boothill probably works like Siri or Alexa when battles leave him a bit too wounded. You might wonder about something, say it out loud, and then Boothill just can't stop reading the first thing that came up on Google.

"What's the best recipe for carrot cake?"

"2 cups (260g) all-purpose flour, 2 teaspoons baking soda, ½ teaspoon fine sea salt—" Boothill gasps and covers his mouth, "1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon, 1 ¼ cups (295ml) vegetable oil, 1 cup (200g) granulated sugar—"

He just can't stop.

[moonlightcycle571]

The Pros Of Being Omni-Lingual

Saw a while back someone saying Captain Marvel (or Shazam or Captain Thunder or whatever name you choose for him) is omni-lingual. I have no idea if it’s actually cannon, but it lives rent free in my head, and I got no plans of evicting it any time soon.

But anyways, the reasoning makes sense. He got his powers from The Wizard, to be The Champion of Magic, so it makes sense that among his other powers, he’s got all the languages down. And that works in his favour when connecting with Heroes

In general, people are more relaxed and open when speaking in their mother tongue, and with Cap knowing all the language cause of ✨magic✨, no one can blame him for knowing even the most top secret and heavily guarded languages (like Themisquiran, Atlanlantian or other).

See, when someone like Batman or Martian Manhunter speaks to you in your native language, it’s intimidating. When another JL member does it, it’s a pleasant surprise, but you can sense they aren’t that comfy with a language also do it for work purposes.

But when Cap does it? It’s “oh you speak …” “oh, I’m omni-lingual” type dialogue. If he gets a cult after mentioning that it was a gift from the Gods, then that’s a while other story

Pair that with his sunny attitude, and his golden retriever attitude, of course he gets people to like him. He’ll understand all the memes, have fantastic insight (Wisdom of Solomon) and political views (Whiz Kid radio host). To put it blankly, he has amazing conversational skills, and I am convinced that discussions can be the most meme filled talks or the most profound stuff you have ever heard, especially if it’s about Magic.

To get back on topic, these facts make him especially loved, not just by civilians he saves (head cannon that he knows what’s your preferred language of you speak more than one and reassures them in that language), but also by other heroes.

He can be seen with Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian (speaking Martian) while helping them cook some food from their home world.

Or with Supergirl in the lounge Kryptonian (Kal is great and all, as are the other supers, but Kryptonian is not their first language, not like her).

Or with Aquaman, talking about various Sea Gods in Atlantian. Whenever he’s got some Magical duties in Atlantis for whatever reason, he always gets invited for dinner with the Aquafam. He, Mera and Gar have the best Magic discussions

He tries to avoid speaking Themesciran, cause he’s a guy and he doesn’t want to disrespect their culture, but Wonder Woman is always more relaxed when speaking in her mother tongue. Most of the time, he will settle for Greek though (it’s her second language so it’s close enough). Although he did take it upon himself to teach Cassie when Diana couldn’t

For any of the Batfam, he switches languages, every other sentence. They love it, especially Bruce, Dick and surprisingly Alfred. It’s enrichment and tests their knowledge. When Clark and Diana aren’t here and his kids are in the watch tower, they go to the Captain to help with their language education (they don’t know he’s a kid, which makes Billy think he’s adulting right). Later when it was revealed he’s a kid, it makes the JL groan that a child was the better designated Baby Sitter (now Batman sends his kids in to hopefully adopt Billy)

When meeting new heroes, it’s the same shabang. He can instantly acclimatise to them and is just a walking talking Pitbull (looks scary, is a sweetie pie)

The lantern corps love him, and keeps sending him rings. My guy has to give the GLs a bad full of rings before every meeting (although they do wonder why there’s the a red, and sometimes yellow rings in the bag). holy shit I need to make a post about lantern corp and Captain marvel

But anyways, that’s just me ranting as someone who was raised bilingual and who definitely prefers English.

[fict1onallyobsessed]

getting sevika back down after she was tied up to the ceiling by jinx, helping her get cleaned up and trying not to giggle because she looks mad and exhausted

Left hanging

Sevika x Reader

--

"Silco wants you in his office."

You downed the rest of your shot, groaning when your throat burnt as it went down. You didn't really want to see Silco. He had given you so many shipments to supervise you were starting to feel sea sick, and you weren't even on the ship.

You nodded at ran as you stood, thanking him for telling you and making your way up the stairs. You were meant to meet Sevika at the last drop but she seemed to be busy with whatever she was doing, already 15 minutes late.

If worst came to worst, Silco would have you deal with another shipment or two, but that just meant having to deal with other incompetent people and some topside people. Marcus would probably be there again and he is a true pain in the a-

You stopped your train of thoughts when you knocked a third time on Silco's door, still waiting to hear a reply. The silence was confusing. He was always in his office. Why would he ask you to come see him if he wasn't there?

You sighed and debated for many minutes on whether you should enter anyway. You weren't one to invade, but there must be a reason to him asking you to go to his office, no? You looked around your surroundings, looking for anything suspicious that could explain anything, but when everything seemed in order, you turned the handle and carefully walked in.

Walking around, you tried to find anything that would give you a reason as to why you were asked here. His office was large, but not large enough for anyone to really hide from you. Unless it was Jinx. She was the queen of surprises.

You walked around Silco's desk, looking down at the map and looking at the routes drawn to it. Were these the routes of the next shipments you were meant to take care of? You followed some but they all lead to places which you'd already been, apart from one.

Your fingers traced the long, thick blue line that travelled from the edge of the map, getting thinner as it came closer to the middle, and finally turning into an arrow drawn onto a knife stabbed into the wood.

You followed the arrow upwards, jaw dropping a little as you saw the woman you were meant to meet 20 minutes ago downstairs, dangling from the ceiling with ropes very clearly tied by no other than Jinx. Like an ornament. Her body was covered in chalk marks, blue and pink, words written over her mechanical arm. She hung upside down much like some of the bombs Jinx made years before and stuck to Silco's ceiling, for decoration.

"What the fuck."

You scrambled to stand on his desk, hands reaching to hold Sevika's unconscious head as you assessed the situation. The ropes seemed to all lead towards the endless ceiling, a celling only Jinx could climb up to.

It wasn't a huge drop to the desk, so the only way you could think of getting her down is by cutting off the ropes and letting her fall onto it. She groaned slightly as you pulled the knife out of the desk, eyes fluttering open as she came to her sense.

Of course you were concerned, but you couldn't help but fight the smile as she slowly realised what was going on. You didn't touch the ropes until you were ready she was ready to fall. Your hands gently held her head, to keep her steady as she moved around and woke up. As funny as it would be, you didn't want her to start swinging around.

"Get me down already."

You giggled a bit, letting go of her head and slicing through the first few ropes on her neck and arms. You knew that if you cut the one holding up her waist, the ones holding her legs would fail and she'd fall. She apparently knew that too, because she braced the second you reached for her waist.

She fell to the desk with a grunt, just laying there at your feet for a few moments before you got off the desk and stood beside her. She didn't look like she wanted to move anytime soon. Inhaling sharply through her nose, she groaned once again as she sat up, a very uncomfortable expression plastered on her face.

"You okay?" You whispered, knowing that any louder would cause a bigger headache. She attempted to stand up but eventually decided on leaning against the desk was better for a bit as she got her bearings back in order. "You must have been hanging up there for ages."

She sent you a look as her hand reached to wipe her face. You couldn't take her seriously with all the scribbles on her face, and she seemed to realise it too when she looked down at her palm to see multicoloured marks smudged all over her skin.

"Come on." You giggled, taking her hand and attempting to drag her out but before you could say where to, she stopped you by holding your hand tighter.

"I'm not going out there like this."

"I know." You replied, smiling sympathetically. "Sit on the couch."

You've never seen a deeper scowl on Sevika's face ever. Not even when Silco had given her the 72 hour shipment route she loved to complain about to you. Or when she was made to babysit Jinx for a whole day that one time Silco was dealing with business up top.

Your hands carefully wiped off the markers off of her face with some wipes you found in Silco's office. You didn't even notice the small smirk on your face until Sevika side eyed you, clearly not impressed with how funny you found this situation. You couldn't help but chuckle.

"How did she even get you up there?"

Not like she would know. The gas Jinx used was still very much in the air. Silco's lack of openable windows proved very useless at this moment.

Sevika sat like an offended child who got put in time out. Her arms crossed over her chest, legs spread wide as you stood between them to wipe her face. Her back was so slouched it looked like she was about to lay down. She didn't have to tell you she was tired for you to feel it radiating off of her.

You looked over at her when you were done, throwing away the wipes and walking over to grab her cape. You managed to get some of the marks on her mechanical arm, but even that needed some work to fix properly, bullet wounds scattered across the metal.

You tossed the cape at her and watched her cover herself with it, a small smile on your face as she hid as much of her broad body as she could. You truly did feel for her. But the way her eyelids shut and barely opened up again, a scowl so badly trying to stay on her face as she fell asleep as you touched her face. She was adorable.

"Come on lets go home."

She sighed in agreement, but as you reached out for her hand she pulled you close enough to hug you. This was nice. A silent thanks for taking care of her. Her breath was soft against your neck, and then suddenly a small whisper came from her.

"Tell anyone about this and I'll hang you up. See how you like it." A smirk obvious in her faint voice.

You chuckled again, giving her a kiss on her cheek and finally pulling her out of Silco's office.

--

I LOVED WRITING THIS I HOPE YOU ENJOYED ;)

[nadvs]

better off (part two)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating mature 18+

summary after having regretful break-up sex with rafe, you try to move on. but he can’t let you go that easy.

warning toxic relationship

» part one

» masterlist

Gulls squawk in the distance, circling the cloudless afternoon sky as you sit on your family’s docked boat.

Since you arrived at the marina, you haven’t moved, save for the boat’s gentle rocks as it sits on the water. Every so often, you hear chatter from people on their boats around you, but it’s been fairly quiet.

You didn’t come here to go out into the sea. You simply needed a change of scenery. Your bedroom has begun to feel suffocating.

And while it hurts to be alone, it hurts even more to be around people. You’re not yourself since the break-up. Having to keep up conversations reminds you of how much of a stranger you are to yourself now.

Life feels off without Rafe. Blurred.

The pages of the book in your hand are fluttering with the breeze, your pen held tight in your hand. You’ve been trying to focus on reading, but you can’t stop thinking about what happened two nights ago. The last time you saw him.

You regret the break-up sex. It was a relapse that hindered your recovery. He called you insufferable.

But it’s par for the course. He has a knack for making you feel like you’re a burden, a bother, as if you were forcing him into a relationship.

You blink away tears and look down at the words on the page. You had picked up this book about toxic relationships a week ago, but finally started reading it today.

As you expected, what you had with Rafe ticks all the boxes. Distrust. Control. Blame.

And one thing you read that stuck with you is how someone usually stays in a toxic relationship because it doesn’t always feel bad. The person you love isn’t all flaws, all the time.

It’s true. Rafe could be mean, but he had good qualities, too. He was fun. Reliable. Protective. Loyal. Hardworking.

It still wasn’t enough to make up for how cruel he could be. Your eyes travel over the last paragraph you read.

Break the cycle by understanding that this was not your fault. Whatever happened to them to cause their behavior was likely not their fault either, but you must accept that your love can’t break that barrier.

Rafe always hated crying in front of you. He only did it a couple times, muttering that he had to stop being such a pussy. You told him it was okay, but he just got angry at you for trying to console him. As if you were patronizing him.

He treated you the same way when you cried. Not every time, but when he was the reason you were upset, he would tell you to stop whining. That you were sensitive and needed to toughen the fuck up if you were going to be his girl.

It broke you, piece by piece. But if he talked to himself like that whenever he felt weak, of course he’d do it to you, too. Any negative emotion that wasn’t anger was disgusting to him.

You know his upbringing was tumultuous. From what little he told you, his father could be erratic and unreliable with his affection, kind to his son one moment, then clearly favoring his daughter the next.

And you often wondered if that’s why he couldn’t say he loved you very often. Maybe because he considered it a fragile promise.

You sigh to yourself. This is all you’ve been doing; trying to understand a man who can’t possibly love you, not really, because a man who loves you wouldn’t scream at you and call you names.

Break the cycle by understanding that this was not your fault.

You underline the words in red pen. You want this burned into your brain. You couldn’t fix him. It wasn’t on you to. But damn, did you want to.

You pull out your phone to take a photo of this part of the page, the stern of the boat and the dark blue sea and the edge of the dock in the background.

You had intended to just keep it for yourself, but you decide to post it on your story. It feels like a release to share a sentence that has such an impact on you, even though any followers who see it will probably tap through and forget about it in a second.

Plus it’s not like the person you’re relating it to can see it anyway. You removed Rafe from all of your social media and blocked his number. You’ve cut him out of your life.

You look out at the water again, wishing there was something you could do to ease the heaviness that’s flooding your body and wringing your heart out.

It feels like it’s going to hurt forever. It’s a tiring thing, caring about someone who throws you down and then treats you like you chose to fall.

Rafe tried to text you yesterday. We need to meet asap. He meant to make it sound urgent, when really, he just wants to talk about your break-up. It’s a manipulative move, but it’d get your attention.

But the text immediately came up as undelivered. You blocked him. And now that he thinks about it, he’s glad. Those moments of reaching out to you are moments of weakness. And they’re humiliating.

Especially because of what you said the other night. That if there’s any part of him that has a heart, he’ll leave you alone. Of all the things you’ve hurled at him, that had to be one of the worst.

He’s not a heartless asshole. He can act like one, but he’s shown you love time and time again, and you spoke to him as if he never has. It was a stab in the back.

Still, he can’t reign in his need to know whatever he can about you. He felt like such a loser telling Topper to send him whatever you post after you blocked him on everything. At least you didn’t block his friend.

Rafe is sitting on his bed when he sees a screenshot from Topper come through on his phone. Anxiety pricks his skin. Ever since you mentioned that you have someone new now, he’s dreading seeing you with another man, of even seeing a mention of him.

He knows you well. He’s almost certain you lied about having a new boyfriend. But what if you didn’t?

It’s a photo of a book in your lap, your hand holding open the page. He recognizes your family’s boat in the background. You’ve gone out on it together quite a few times.

It’s pathetic how long he looks at your hand in the photo. He’s a wreck, taking pieces of whatever he can to feel put together again, eyes trailing over what little of your body he can see.

You would sometimes put his ring on your finger, looking at him with that bright smile you once had reserved only for him. But that ring is back on his hand now, and the last time it touched you, you called the sex you’d just had a mistake.

Rafe reads the portion you underlined in the book. It makes an ugly mix of pain and anger settle into his core. This has to be about him.

Not your fault. Is that what you really think? That none of this is your fault? That you both crashed and burned all because of him?

He grits his teeth. He was right for what he said the other night. You really do think you’re perfect.

All of your mutual friends know you split up. They’ll piece together that this is about him in a second. There’s no way they won’t. It’s fucking humiliating.

Rafe has no control over his impulses. He never has. That’s why he finds his keys and drives to the marina to find you.

He parks beside your car. His blood is boiling as he rushes down the dock, boats lining the long, uneven boardwalk, but when he spots you, he stops in his tracks.

Your back is to the dock. You’re rubbing your eyes in a way that looks like you’re wiping tears. The book sits beside you.

He’s pissed at you, but seeing you like this makes some of the anger fade.

After coming down from one last cry, you turn to stand and finally go home after hours of sitting and reading. You pick up your book and set to step out onto the dock. And you lock eyes with the man who you’ve done nothing but think about.

Rafe’s mouth opens slightly, but he can’t speak. He closes what little distance remains between you and when he reaches you, his face falls even more once he sees how red your eyes are.

“What are you doing here?” you say.

Your tone is harsh. You look annoyed to see him. It makes anger burn through him all over again.

Rafe steps up onto the edge of the boat, making you shuffle back so he doesn’t bump into you. He towers over you, his eyes hard and cold.

“You think it’s all on me?” he mutters.

“What?” you say.

“That’s what it says, huh?” he says, looking down at the book you’re holding against your chest. “Your stupid little self-help book. Nothing’s your fault.”

“How did…” You look down, shaking your head. He must have found a way to watch your story. And he rushed over here to yell at you about it.

“It’s wrong,” he says. “And the way you’re posting that shit to make me look bad is fucked up.”

“You found out I was here,” you begin, your muscles tense as you stare up at him, “and you came to yell at me over a fucking story? Are you insane?”

“I’m not gonna let you embarass me like that. Delete it.”

“I didn’t do it to embarrass you. I didn’t even mention you,” you mutter sharply. “But you know what?”

You’re spent. You’ve dedicated your day to trying to start your healing process. And you have no more fight left in you.

A stupid post is not worth it. You take out your phone, open your story, and delete it right in front of him.

“There,” you say. You meet his eyes again. “You got what you wanted. Now get out of my way.”

You step to the side to brush past him, but his hand wraps around your forearm. His skin feels so warm and so familiar and so nice and you wish he would stop having this effect on you.

“Rafe,” you say, your tone teetering on whining. “Let me go.”

“You think this is what I wanted?” he says with a humorless laugh.

“What do you want?” you challenge. “To keep fighting with me? Why are you looking at what I post?”

“Why are you posting about me?”

“I already told you, I didn’t even mention you.” You rip your arm out of his grip.

“It’s pretty fucking obvious. Everyone knows we…” He can’t even say broke up out loud. His eyes dart down to the book you’re holding.

“What other bullshit did you read in here, huh?” he mutters. He takes the book out of your hand. Resigned, you let him.

Rafe leafs through the pages, his heart pounding, eyes tracking whatever you’ve underlined.

“You actually spent your money on this?” he scoffs, condescending you.

“You’re such an asshole.”

You consider leaving him here. You can just buy another copy. Spending time with someone so committed to arguing, so committed to making you feel small, is misery.

But then Rafe stops at a page.

He notices a sentence underlined and circled and starred. And he’s prepared to call bullshit on it, simply because you so clearly want to remember it. But when he reads it, he loses some of his composure.

His jaw tightens and he shuts the book, shoving it back towards you. You gaze at him curiously, wondering what he just read that obviously struck him.

“What?” you ask, your guard coming down a little.

The words he just read tumble in his brain. He’s still so angry, still wanting to hit you where it hurts.

“Didn’t work out with the new guy?” he asks.

You swallow hard.

“There’s no new guy. I lied,” you admit. “Just to hurt your feelings. Because that’s what we do, right? We hurt each other on purpose, over and over.”

The relief that washes over Rafe dilutes his anxiety. There’s nobody else.

“And you’re still going to take no blame at all?” he says, eyes fluttering down to the book. “You think it’s normal to lie like that?”

“You bring it out in me,” you retaliate. “And you’re one to talk. Have you ever said sorry to me? Once?”

Rafe always acted like taking any sort of accountability was an admission of worthlessness. As if a sorry was admitting that he’s a bad person.

“Have you?” he asks.

You tense up even more, looking up at him through sad, angry eyes.

“What do I have to be sorry for?” you say.

“For-” His own caught breath interrupts him. He looks away, pissed as hell that his throat is starting to feel scratchy. He can’t cry. “For always making me feel like shit.”

“You always made me feel like shit.”

“See?” He breaths a cynical chuckle. “You don’t even ask how. You just say I did it, too.”

You cross your arms, your book starting to feel heavy in your grip. You hate this feeling, the tinge of powerlessness when he brings up a good point.

“How, then?” you ask begrudgingly.

“You brought up old fights all the time,” he snaps.

“That’s not fair,” you say. “I did that because I never got an apology. Or any sort of closure.”

“Then, talk about it when it happens,” he says. “Don’t bitch about something from a million years ago.”

“I didn’t bitch,” you say sharply. “Don’t use that word.”

“You know I’m right,” he says. “I never knew when you were going to get pissed off. We’d be having fun and then out of fucking nowhere…”

He sighs again and looks down, his hands on his hips.

You want to counter that he was exactly like that. Because he was. He used to fly off the handle with no warning all the time. Maybe he walked on eggshells, but so did you.

You swallow your reflex to fight back. You’re sure it’s all the reading you’ve been doing about taking responsibility. You can admit you’re guilty of what he’s accusing you of.

Throughout your relationship, you’d be having a good time together and out of nowhere, you’d think of an old fight that was left unresolved and reminded him of what an asshole he could be.

Just like that, you can understand a part of his side. You had always thought of him as completely in the wrong. It was perpetually about winning or losing between you two. Black and white.

But maybe it’s gray. Because while you were wondering how someone who was supposed to love you could be so cruel, you were cruel in your own way. And you adored him.

“Talking about it when it happened was impossible. We never resolved anything,” you say. “And that weighed on me. I hated how you never said sorry. But I know I… blindsided you sometimes.”

Rafe blinks a few times, looking at you with a softness you haven’t seen in a long time.

You actually admitted to it. He doesn’t feel self-righteous like he thought he would. He feels better than that. Understood, for once.

“But you’d do something shitty and then just expect me to get over it,” you continue. “And if I cried, you made me feel sensitive and crazy for being hurt. But of course I was hurt, Rafe. I loved you.”

He licks his lips, his eyes boring into you, his chest starting to rise and fall faster. He didn’t miss the past tense.

“You don’t anymore,” he says, disbelief and desperation in his voice.

You stare up at him. And you respond honestly.

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice wavering.

“How do you not know?” he says tersely.

“Do you love me?” you say. “You never said it.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighs. “God, you were always so hung up on that. Why did I have to say it all the damn time? I showed it.”

He was always tense about this. It’s hard to actually say the words. And he hates how bad you made him feel for discomfort he couldn’t control.

He never heard it growing up. He never had anyone to say it to. Then, with you, it’s like he was expected to say it every hour.

It made him feel inadequate, every time you pestered him for not saying it. Like he wasn’t enough for you unless he said three words.

“Do you?” you repeat.

There’s a tangled heap of feelings sitting on his chest. He’s torn between wanting to hurt you and wanting to win this argument and wanting to hear you love him and wanting to storm away.

His pride is too fucking heavy. If you won’t say you love him, he’s not saying it to you.

He doesn’t answer. And you realize his eyes are glossy.

“Are you crying?” you ask gently.

Typically, you’d pretend you didn’t notice because he loathes crying in front of you. It embarrasses him. But this isn’t a typical conversation.

“You really think we’re sick together?” he rasps.

You know exactly what part of your book he read now. You read that line over and over again. It’s better to be healthy alone than sick together.

“Yeah,” you say quietly.

Rafe can’t stop the tear that drops onto his cheek. Frustrated, he wipes it away.

“And you can make fun of me for reading books like this all you want,” you say, “but they really do help. I need to be healthy on my own first if I want to be healthy with someone else.”

Something that looks like fear flashes over his face.

“You want to be with someone else?” Rafe asks. “Who?”

You gaze up at him with a cocked head, actually feeling sympathy for his insecurity. He always bordered on hysteria over the idea of you with another man. He always was so sure you’d find someone more suited for you.

“No. Right now, it’s important for me to get better,” you say. “By myself.”

“And what if…” He shakes his head. “What if I get better, too?”

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been this whole conversation. Maybe the most vulnerable he’s been with you ever.

You search his handsome, pained face for any indication of this being a cruel joke.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Rafe doesn’t know how to navigate this. You had each other at your worst, but you still fell in love. How happy could you be at your best?

“If I get better, too, are you going to want…” It’s too nerve-wracking to directly ask if you’ll want him. He feels like such a coward.

“You?” you say.

His jaw tenses in discomfort. You exhale shakily.

This doesn’t have to be a test of pride, a game of win or lose like it always was with him. You can be honest. Because you already had to say goodbye to the person who once made you the happiest you’d ever been, so there’s nothing left to lose.

“If we really are better,” you finally say, “yeah. We can try this again. If you want to.”

Rafe knows he shouldn’t, but he wants to touch you so badly that it’s hurting him. This feels too fragile, though. One wrong move could break this sense of amiability you two haven’t had together in ages.

“I want to,” he admits.

For the first time in weeks, hope blooms in your chest. You always thought he was so stubborn. That he didn’t think he had anything wrong with him, and therefore, nothing to fix.

But he’s willing to work on himself. And you are, too. Maybe this isn’t doomed after all.

“We’ll give it a few weeks, okay?” you say softly. “And after, we’ll talk and… see what happens.”

Rafe wants to ask if you’ll unblock him, but he’s opened himself up to enough risk of rejection since this conversation started. He accepts the discomfort of not knowing.

He can only say a tense, “Okay.” And he can’t cry in front of you anymore. And he can’t handle how confusing it is to feel hopeful and angry and sad all at once.

He leaves. Because the only way he can comfortably let out overwhelming emotions is through a fight, and that’s not an option right now.

You watch him go, left to wonder if this is just delaying further heartbreak, or if one day, you actually can be the people you need each other to be.

(part three)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

This is probably small in the grand scheme of things, but how did Emilie being noble play any impact in the story at all?

I mean, I'd get it if it was just a small detail to help deepen Emilie's character, but why nobility of all things? I don't know, from what I'm seeing so far, the whole "Emilie renounced her noble title" shtick just feels worthless if it's not going to impact the story or add depth to Emilie's character (like maybe upbringing or personal values?).

I don't know. Like everything else, the noble part just feels shallow and means nothing to the story, especially for a character like Emilie, who is the plot device for the whole show. Any detail about her, like her personality and life story, is supposed to influence the story and characters one way or another, namely Hawkmoth since she's his driving force.

So what was the point?

For context, this ask is about Félix's play which says that Emilie gave up her title to be with Gabriel. I'm gonna give a slightly larger section of the transcript of the play for full context, but the relevant but is at the end of the last paragraph:

Félix: The king and queen's twins grew up, each day as different in heart as they were similar in body. The firstborn, curious and brazen, despised life at court and escaped at every opportunity. The younger daughter, well-behaved and respectful, did everything she could to please her parents, and stayed quietly in the castle. Félix: (as Mr. Graham de Vanily) Oh, my queen. Did we entrust our legacy to the right princess? Kagami: (as Mrs. Graham de Vanily) She will fall in line, eventually. Félix: Confident that she would settle down as she matured, the king and queen allowed the curious princess to leave to study beyond the sea in another kingdom. There, she immediately found true love in a humble tailor. Félix: The tailor was making clothes so magnificent that they revealed the beauty of the soul of anyone who wore them. Although it made her parents furious, the curious princess gave up her rank, her wealth and her kingdom to live a bohemian life with the tailor.

Story wise, I have no idea why any of this was added since it adds nothing to canon. It's not like this finally explains why Gabriel and Emilie are poor while Amelie is wealthy. Along similar lines, it's not like Amelie's title has ever mattered. Prior to this play, I don't think that we even knew that she had a title or that she was the younger sister. The play is all about explaining things that we never had reasons to question in the first place.

My best guess as to why the writers wrote this pointless backstory is that they wanted to make Emilie seem even more pure and perfect so they went with the tired old trope of a rich girl giving up material things for the sake of love and art because good pure women don't care about material things! Only nasty, shallow women care about money. (Way to play into sexist tropes, guys.)

There may also be cultural elements at play here given that France doesn't have the greatest history with nobility, so giving up a noble title may be seen as good and pure to a French writer, but I don't know enough about French culture to say that with any certainty. If anyone who reads this blog is French and would like to chime in, then feel free!

While we're on the topic of the play, I wanted to point out that the above quoted passage is why I say that the Graham de Vanily parents can be as kind or as abusive as you'd like to make them. It's incredibly vague and you can read into it whatever you want to read into it. Were they good loving parents who were just upset about their daughter living in poverty or were they miserable controlling classist who Emilie fled England to get away from? It's up to you because you can get both reads from this. The play commits to almost nothing of value. Politicians could take lessons from this impressive level of noncommittal writing.

A better version of the play would have focused on things that actually matter to canon like the details of finding the miraculous and/or Emilie learning she's sick, but you could only have those details if they were coming from Nathalie or Gabriel. Félix is a terrible choice for a character to tell us the show's backstory because he knows so little of it, thus the play focusing on his largely pointless backstory.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny Pt.6

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”

“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.

Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”

“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.

“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”

Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”

“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”

Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”

Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.

“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”

“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”

“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.

They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.

“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.

“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.

“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”

“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”

Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.

“Hey, you live near here, right?”

Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.

“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”

Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.

“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”

Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!

Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”

“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”

Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”

“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”

Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”

Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”

Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”

What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”

“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”

“Uh-huh.”

“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”

Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?

“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”

“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”

Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”

——

Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.

“We’ve done stupider things.”

“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”

“Agreed.”

Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.

Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.

Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.

One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.

Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.

“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.

“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”

“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.

Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”

“No problem.”

Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.

Timsy

[5 nin]

Nin

Nin

Nin

Min

Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Alright.”

Danny texted back an okay.

Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.

“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.

“Damn, bro. You good?”

“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!

“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”

A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.

“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”

“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.

“Sorry…” Tim apologized.

“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”

“Do you really pay taxes?”

Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”

“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.

“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”

Tim stared.

——

“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.

Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.

——

“How did you die?”

Phantom snarled and disappeared.

Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.

“Where’d he go?”

“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.

“What? What did I do?”

“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”

“I didn’t know that!”

“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”

——

Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.

“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.

“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.

Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.

[xoluvx]

crushed; b.eilish

Request: I feel only you can do this justice, but may I please request a Billie angst to fluff where Billie is somewhat oblivious to reader crushing on her, so every time bil invites her around, she's always flirting with other girls (like odessa & quen) and reader always gets quiet and just isolates herself. Then billie brings reader with her for all the album press, and while recording the chicken shop date, reader finally gets so pissed she just leaves and back at the hotel they get into a huge fight, but happy ending 🥹

aweee thank you anon, i hope you love it 💖

“Hey, thanks for coming” Billie smiled. It was the kind of smile that made your heart flutter for no good reason. A genuine smile that came from within and radiated throughout her face and instantly brought a smile to your own face. She hugged you and you melted into her warmth.

“We’re in here,” she closed the door before directing you to a room where a group of her friends were already chatting. They shot you a quick welcome before returning to the conversations you clearly weren’t a part of. It didn’t matter. You were here for Billie.

Did that sound a little desperate? Whatever, it didn't matter. So what? Should you be sued for crushing on Billie? Maybe. Considering the fact she was your best friend.

She sat next to you, talking about the new album. The voices of everyone else drowned around you as you focused on her. Her lips were so tantalizing and her eyes enchanting as she spoke with passion. You nodded feeling the fluttering feeling in your chest again. You were astonished how in a sea of people she was able to make you feel like the only person there.

That is until another girl walked up to her and sat on her lap. You hadn't even made yourself comfortable yet. You'd been here no more than what? Five minutes? And she just straight up sat on her lap in the middle of your conversation. You cleared your throat and shifted on the couch. Though Billie was still looking at you and talking to you, one of her hands was now holding the girl’s thigh and the other held her back.

Why did you come to these things again? Was your crush really worth it when it was so one-sided? Was she really so oblivious to the fact that you were crushing on her? Hard. Of course she was. You were best friends, but not like her new group of friends. There was just something about them that made you feel less than. Like you weren't the first person to be there for Billie since the beginning. Like they were worthy of all her attention and you were just "Billie's friend".

You excused yourself glancing at the girl briefly who was now whispering something in Billie's ear. Billie laughed watching as you left, but not really protesting for you to stay. Finding the bathroom, you shut the door behind you leaning against it taking a deep breath. The lack of oxygen was making you feel light headed and the previous flutter in your chest was now replaced by a deep pain. You felt like the room was shrinking around you.

Walking to the counter, you held the edge as you walked yourself through a series of deep breathing exercises. God, this girl had you in deep. So fucking deep you were in her bathroom breathing like a maniac because you were down bad.

Locating your phone, you opened up your message thread with her.

Not feeling well. Going home.

A few seconds later a reply came through.

You sure? You can rest in my room for now.

You watched the three dots pop up again, but nothing else came through. You could rest in her room, but you really couldn't stand being in her house anymore.

Thanks, but I'll see you tomorrow maybe?

Looking in the mirror, you wiped the tears you hadn't realized you were shedding and sniffled. How were you going to get through her album press tour like this? It should've made you feel special that you were the only person she invited, but really you felt like shit.

Of course she was going to take you. You were her best friend. But was that all you'd ever be?

When her press tour started, you tried really hard to bury your feelings for her. Before you boarded that plane, you made a pact with yourself. You were done with Billie. Any romantic feelings were squashed. She wasn't going to be the reason you cried anymore. And though you liked to tell yourself you were okay with that, you weren't. You really fucking weren't.

She made it so difficult. With her adorable laughs and awkwardly cute presence during interviews. You stood behind the scenes watching interview after interview. Every so often, she'd glance at you and smile like you were her home.

And you'd wonder if she was questioning how different you'd been acting. How much you'd been pulling away from her or if she just thought everything was okay and normal.

No matter how much you wanted to ignore the feelings, your heart ached each day. Especially each night when the two of you laid in bed because of course you were sharing a hotel room. And you couldn't cuddle with her like you did before these pestering feelings inhabited your heart and soul. You couldn't put yourself through that.

And it all boiled down to one moment. One moment where you couldn't hold it in. You couldn't pretend for her sake anymore.

The Chicken Shop Date.

You stood behind the cameras as she flirted her way through the interview. Her shy little awkward mannerisms making every ounce of your body tingle, but warm with envy. The sly flirty comments shot at Amelia, the glances like she wanted to eat her alive.

Fuck. It got to you. You felt so stupid. It. was. press. It wasn't real. But god you took it so personal.

Billie glanced over when she heard whispering. You were talking to someone on set. They were nodding and holding your arm. She couldn't see your face, but she furrowed her brows when you left.

“Yo, that was kinda rude.” The voice snapped you from your book. You didn’t bother looking up. You flipped the page until you heard the door slam and a pissed off Billie was standing at the end of the bed.

“Did you hear me?” She asked. Her face one of bewilderment when you looked up. “What was that about? Why’d you just leave?” She prodded lifting her shoulders like you’d done the most despicable thing.

You just shook your head bitting the inside of your lip. You were at a point of no return. If you snapped at her, it’d be done. You’d be done. You’d walk away. You’d fly home right now. You'd never talk to her again.

“Hello?” She snapped you. Oh … it was on.

“You’re fucking joking right?” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat quickly because you weren’t going to break down right now. Not before she got an earful because she didn’t even know the half of it.

“You bring me everywhere and what? I’m just suppose to follow you like a little lap dog?” Your voice was more stern now as you tossed your book to the side not bothering to mark the page. It’s not like you’d been paying attention to the plot.

Billie furrowed her brows, her lips parting.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like being around you? Everyone loves you, everyone wants a piece of Billie Eilish and you just love it don’t you? You love the attention.” You’d gotten up by now, but you were still feet away from her and her sudden defensive stance.

“What are you talking about?” Billie asked.

“Fuck Billie. How about you put your fucking glasses on and look in front of you?” Your voice was laced with venom and you were aiming to sting and hurt just like you had. Just like the uncontrollable crying you'd done when you walked through the hotel door.

“I. Like. You."

“And you always make me feel like shit,” you whispered falling back on the bed sitting with your hands clasped between your legs, chest heaving as you tried catching your breath. Your tummy felt funny. You felt like you might actually throw up and not just word vomit. The tears were hot on your face and you leaned your head back trying to bring them back in.

Billie stood there. Silent. It felt like an eternity before she spoke.

"I didn't know," her voice was soft and she stood there like a scolded child.

"Oh my god, I'm so stupid," she added. It was like she was recalling all the times she'd invite you over just to give another girl attention. All the times she made you feel like she was crushing on you too. The hugs, the cheek kisses, the sleepovers.

"I just need you to tell me you don't like me. I need to hear it from you so I can move on," you turned to look at her slowly. She looked at your glossy eyes and tear streaked face.

"I can't," Billie furrowed her brows, her own eyes glossing over. She was awful. She'd made you feel awful and she didn't know for how long. And worst, if she'd only communicated with you then you would've known-

"I like you too," she whispered and sat next to you. Her body was still, facing forward not looking at you. Silence filled the room.

She liked you too?

"Then why," your voice cracked and you cleared your throat. "why didn't you tell me?" you asked.

"The same reason you didn't. I was scared. I didn't want things to change between us," she turned to look at you but you were still facing forward. She cupped your face and you froze. This new touch was foreign. It was filled with possibilities and second chances.

"Things were already changing between us when you started flirting with anything that had legs," you melted into her touch and Billie couldn't help but softly laugh at that. This elicited your own smile and when your eyes met you felt your heart exploding. Her watery eyes glistened. The blue piercing through your soul. The green bandana making them shine even brighter. She bit her lip before looking down at yours.

Was this really happening right now? Her body was leaning in.

"Wait," she placed your hand on her shoulder and she looked at you with confusion. "I want this, I want this so bad," you confessed.

"But?" Billie asked.

"But, I need to know you do too. That you're seriously into this. That you're not just going to run away," her eyes softened and she nodded pressing her forehead against yours. And maybe using 'run away' was a poor choice of words because that's literally what you'd been doing this whole time.

She brought you back to earth when she grabbed your hand placing it on her chest. Her heart was beating rapidly.

"Okay," you whispered.

Billie leaned in again and this time you didn't stop her. You let her lips meet yours in a tentative kiss. Your noses brushed as she tightened her grip around your hand which was still pressed to her chest.

You kissed again.

This time it was a deeper kiss. One poured with feelings and regrets and hope.

[solkara]

❛ 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌'𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃 , lucerys velaryon ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , that fateful day at storms end the velaryon boy indeed had someone watching over him but not in the skys above but the waters below

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , lucerys velaryon x fem! siren! reader

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , okie so, this is my first hotd fic and omg I'm so excited!! hope you guys like it cuz ngl kinda obsessed with this concept cuz justice for bbg luke ya'll </3

house of the dragon masterlist

⌗ it's was another stormy day in storm's end. but there was something lingering in the air. a certain air of uncertainty that left you on edge for whatever reason. as if you were waiting for something to happen. though this didn't bother you much as being a siren was full of uncertainty from hunters to being spotted by humans.

⌗ though this didn't mean you weren't careful. as you were always ready to make you escape if you were under threat. though storm's end had become a haven for you. a place shrouded in stormy weather and dark mist with no shortage of food whether it be fish or human. with massive cliff faces that spanned as far as the eye could see and a vast labyrinth of underground sea tunnels. it was truly paradise to you.

⌗ and besides borros baratheon being an oaf and the odd few sailors who would drunkenly sing love songs which sounded eerily similar to a dying duck in an attempt to woo 'the siren of storm's end' life was peaceful. that was until the dragons came.

⌗ you had never seen a dragon before. you had heard of them of course and the house that wielded them. it was hard not to as sailors talked about them almost as much as they talked about sirens. but the fear of dragons was far more real to them. as no sane siren would let a human see them and live to tell the tale.

⌗ now normally in an instance like this you would have dived into deep water or slipped into one of the underwater caves until the incident blew. but something compiled you to watch. and you did with piqued interest. as you watched the smaller dragon flea from the behemoth that stalked him from above. it was clear the two dragons were far from friends.

⌗ and you held your breath as you watched the larger dragon rip the smaller in half with ease. sending both the dragon and his rider plummeting into the water below with nothing to break their fall. as the remains of the chewed-up dragon began to sink so too did his barely conscious rider.

⌗ he looked like an angel. with a halo of dark hair pale skin big dark eyes and a painfully innocent face. as he sank deeper and deeper into the depths of the sea. you couldn't help but admire him for a brief moment. and debated if he should be your dinner or not. though you ultimately decided against it.

⌗ quickly springing into action. you swam towards him. tail slicing through the water creating ripples in the process. grabbing his hand you dragged him to the surface of the water. holding him securely in your arms you couldn't help but silently hope that he wasn't coherent enough to know what was going on. as if he did you would definitely have to kill him.

⌗ as you pulled him to the rocky shore. you lay him on his back as you place your ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. thank god he wasn't dead. but now you were unsure of what to do. should you just leave him here? or?

⌗ and just as you were debating with yourself about what to do. the boy began to violently cough up sea water. as he lurched forward with arms clasped around his stomach. before looking directly at you before speaking in what felt like a mixture of a tired mumble and a plea for help he said.

⌗ "I want my muña" and with that he passed out again out of his exhaustion. now from those few words he spoke you could deduce a few things. one he was either a targaryen or velaryon as they were the only house that spoke high valyrian. and two he wanted his mother and you would do your damnedest to help him get back to her.

⌗ as you sat next to the sleeping boy you though of your next plan of action. as you weren't too familiar with all of the house of the realm and where they resided. but you decided it would be easier to leave him at dragonstone. as it was the closest to you and was also the castle of house targaryen.

⌗ and with that you set off with the boy in your grasp. as you raced though the water under the cover of night. reaching dragonstone as the first peeps of the sun made it's way over the horizon. as you lay the boy on the shore in a place where he could be easily found.

⌗ as you turned to leave you felt a hand gently grab yours and a soft voice ask. "will I see you again?". and all you could do was softly smile at the boy who struggled to keep his eyes open as sleep threatened to envelop him as you waited for his eyes to close again before slipping out of his grip and disappearing into the water of the dark sea.

⌗ when lucerys velaryon woke from his slumber he was on the shores of dragonstone. he was confused about how he got here. his mind was a blurry mess. and then he remembered. aemond. vahgar. drowning. the girl who saved him. so many questions and yet no answers. as he sat next to the water all he could seem to remember were her piercing eyes and....a tail.

⌗ fast forward till this day long after the coronation of his mother the queen rhaenyra. and still till this day the lord of driftmark still tells everyone a siren saved him that fateful day at storm's end. and every sunrise he waits by the water. waiting for a chance to say thank you to the girl he owed his life to.

[heartysworld]

Family Tradition || LN4

Lando Norris x Reader

A/N: Honestly, I don't even know where this idea cake from I've been feeling nostalgic recently and I thought back to when I myself watched a wildlife documentary and it made me feel bad for the poor babies. Also please know that this hasn't been proofread yet so it's possible to have a mistake here and there!

Hopefully you enjoy this one, feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

W. C.: 1k+

MASTERLIST

"Baby look at him, he's so cute!" You exclaimed, looking at the tiny creature that sat at the palm of your hand.

Next you, Lando was just as smitten with the baby turtle in his hand. You could see the tender look of his eyes as his pointer finger went over the shell of the tiny creature whose fins moved in all possible directions.

" How do you know it's a him? For all we know it could be a she!" Your fiance said with a small laugh.

"Call it female intuition.''

"Okay everyone, it's time to get these little guys back to their natural habitat. On 3, everyone can release their baby turtle and we're going to move back a bit so that they have the space they need to craw towards the water!" One of the men responsible for the release of the baby turtles explained while everyone got ready.

All this began as a silly joke between you and Lando about a year ago when you watched a documentary about sea turtles and the hardship the newly hatched babies face when it's time for them to go into the water.

When Lando came home from the gym to find you crying like a baby in front of the TV he couldn't help but laugh when he heard the reason for your tears.

" Oh baby come here." He said as his arms embraced you in a warm hug, the aroma of his freshly applied cologne invading your senses.

"Look at them! They're so sweet and tint and most of them won't even get a change to feel the water!" You continued, sobbing like a baby. " I wish I could do something to help them." You added just as another sob escaped your mouth.

Your then boyfriend felt bad even though he had to fault for the emotions that you were going through. One of his hands ce up to your cheeks, wiping away the falling tears with a tender touch and followed by a gentle kiss on your temple.

"Look at me, baby. I know that's something we can't prevent. But how about this, one day I promise you that we'll go to one of those palces where they help baby turtles find their way to their home. What do you say?" Lando asked, his chin coming to rest atop your head while you nuzzled your face closer to his chest.

"Really? You'd do that for me?" You asked, your voice a bit unclear due to Lando's sweatshirt being in the way. You felt him nod before both his hands took a gold of your face, making you look him in the eyes.

" I'd do whatever I can to make you happy, baby. You should know this by now. Or should I be worried?" He asked playfully, making you swat at his chest for what he just said.

Ever since that day the topic of doing what he promised always somehow found its way in your conversations. That's also how it came to be Lando's present for you after your engagement. A trip to a resort in Bali, but not just any resort but one that specifically offers the chance for those interested to volunteer on the process of releasing baby turtles in the ocean.

"Come on little guy, it's time to go home." You said as you watched the baby turtle crawl off your hand and slowly start swatting at the sand that surrounded it. Meanwhile Lando watched your expression and the reactions that followed, having already released his baby turtle.

A small tear fell down your check and he wasted no time pulling you close to him go provide you with the comfort you needed during such an emotional moment.

"Don't worry Lan, this time these are happy tears." You murmured close to his chest while his hands caressed your soft hair.

" That's all I need to know,baby. Your happiness is what matters most." He said as he felt a sense of pride bloom inside his chest. He was happy to finally be able to do something he knew would make you truly happy and content. A small thank you for all the support and sacrifices you've made to remain by his side during the time you've been together.

"Maybe we can make this a family tradition. You know...come here one day with our children and do this all over again." He suggested, making a small smile appear on your lips as the thought of him being a father and you a mother, sharing such a precious moment with your family, popped up in your mind.

" I like the way you think baby. I like it a lot." You said, patting his chest as he let out a quiet laugh.

Who would've thought sobbing over a wildlife documentary would lead to the appearance of an unique and memorable family tradition for decades to come.

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