#how can he think anything but good things? he knows what she did now but she's so strong. so invincible. ofc she'll overcome the odds

[exhausted-archivist]

This is the banter about his going rates that I referenced in another post, and I see the comments and tags. I cannot tell you how much this isn’t him being a nepo baby or the “how much could it cost” meme.

Shoving the rest under the cut because I get the joke here but I need to yell about this man.

tldr: This isn’t dialogue about Lucanis being out of touch, and not knowing what money is worth. He knows, he’s a union man. This dialogue is about Lucanis learning about Harding’s values and priorities. He was worried he was low balling Harding. The tone in this dialogue throws him because what Harding says could easily be taken as “six thousand is only this much and I deserve more compensation.” Hence why he offered to negotiate with her and also why he clarified that the comparison was good.

Now for me yelling about this man:

Lucanis is a union man. Lucanis thinks everyone should be paid fairly, equally, and the market rate. He tells Neve to unionize with the other detectives to make sure she is being compensated fairly (to make sure they all are tbh) and that no one is underpricing themselves. If they are, they’re a scab.

He tells Bellara the Veil Jumpers are providing a service and risking their lives - they should be fairly and properly compensated. They should not only unionize but charge for their services.

Now there is something to say about capitalism and such, but Lucanis is vouching for this stuff because at the end of the day money is important in Thedas. With money you can buy the supplies you need. With money you can make more impactful change, bribe people with lesser morals, provide for people who need it. Cover funerary costs, compensate the families of those who died who maybe the person working for/with you was the only money earner. With money, you can choose to help on jobs that don’t pay at all because you have the comfort of knowing you have other work to cover things.

Lucanis isn’t asking Harding if that’s good because he doesn’t understand the value of what he’s offering. He’s asking Harding if it’s good to understand what her value of it is. Money is after all just a social contract of a universally agreed to system to value the more abstract concepts of value (and even then it fails at times). For all he knows she could have been presenting those examples to show he is lowballing her.

This man is offering to negotiate with her, but her words and tone throw him so he’s not sure if she is happy with the offer or offended.

Lucanis isn’t a nepo baby who thinks 10 dollars for a banana isn’t a lot. Illiaro is the nepo baby. Lucanis was born into wealth but he knows the value of it and works hard to not only earn it but also maintain it. This man has standards, he wants the best because he can afford it so he will not accept anything less than his expensive, luxury Orlesian peaches.

Lucanis doesn’t value goats or a barn the same way Harding does. For her there is personal attachment and sentimentality (see where money fails to properly put a value on something). He knows their monetary worth of those things but he would not be pleased or excited to be paid in a herd of goats (unless perhaps if they were Ayesleigh gulabi goat). But Harding does value those things. Those things have more meaning to her than their value in gold, that’s home. That’s stability. That’s purpose and security. Giving books to the whole village? That’s enriching lives, that teaching people to read. That is uplifting people.

If you asked Lucanis to list off what 6k gold could get him? You’d see his values are different, it would be coffee, luxury food ingredients, wyvern memorabilia, daggers.

Anyways, this isn’t my blorbo but he’s the blorbo of friends I have and man is up there with Cullen, Davrin, and others. Just rotating in my brain space because people I care about like him.

Also this makes me wonder how much the Inquisition was paying Harding and if Lucanis is going to provide her with one of his lawyers like he did for Neve and Bellara.

I've seen Lucanis' family villa so I knew he was rich, but this banter made me realize that he's a rich boy who has no idea what money is worth lmao.

[enemui]

So Mel Medarda

Watched her own mother behead a woman when she was a child

Was exiled from her own family for not being ruthless enough

Still managed to make herself prominent enough to become a member of the Piltover council

Helped two young inventors pursue their project even though it seemed like what they were doing is madness—This brought incredible profit and technological advancements to the city. And then it also turned out this stuff was causing crazy magic polution, which she couldn't have known but now can blame herself for, since she supported the project.

She was there for the bombing of her workplace which killed half of her colleagues, crippled one and almost killed her at-the-time lover's partner. Then she learned why she was unscathed was dormant magic powers, so now she gets to grapple with the reality that she could've saved them all if she just knew about this stuff and how to control it. At the same time, if she didn't subconsciously activate that shield, she would've been dead. Like. Wow. Oh my God.

Then she got attacked again, directly had a gun pointed at her and when she tried to escape, she got trapped in a carriage that toppled over.

Then she got kidnapped and watched as her kidnapper brutally murdered her friend. Then said kidnapper took the form of her late brother and tried to play with her emotionally and she bashed that bitch's head in.

Then this kidnapper tried to manipulate her into betraying her own mom.

It's revealed she has crazy magic powers which have been kept from her her whole life, her mom basically traded her brother's life for hers to hide her away and now she has to grapple with the fact that this is what she is, and God knows what other people might think of her if they learn.

She saved Jayce's ungrateful ass from the Viktor robot, after he literally had the worst fucking reaction to the previous point.

She saved Caitlin's life.

She killed her kidnapper.

She held her own mother and watched her die.

And now she basically has to return home to take over as the new head of the family, despite all the connections and the life she built in Piltover, not to mention that place also got fucked and she can't even be there to help rebuild, because she has all this other shit going on and God knows when will all this finally emotionally break her.

Did I miss anything?

Like, holy shit, Mel Medarda the character you are. The shit you've been through that nobody gives you enough credit for.

I want more of this woman. I want her to finally be actually happy, not just on top of things or in control. I want her to experience good things to make up for all this crap and then I want to see her do cool magic stuff, while still being the intelligent ruler that she is.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

(I can't believe I squeezed six entries out of this dang episode!!!)

agatha sees billy waking up and takes her usual moment to wipe all genuine emotion from her face and put on her mask. it's getting increasingly clear that this wretch of a woman is always wearing a mask and playing the larger-than-life uncaring witch she wishes she could be

not that she cares about you or anything.

billy does that thing children do. he doesn't say thank you or ask why she's crying, he asks about himself, his current troubles and fears, looking for guidance. that's the wonderful thing about a parent, they give a child a safe environment to grow and make mistakes and explore. A parent is, or should be, selfless. That billy feels safe doing this with agatha tells you he instinctively trusts her much more than he realizes.

agatha never lies to billy

and the way she's always drawn to teaching and explaining and guiding despite herself. deep, deep down agatha is a nurturing person who only ever got to nurture for a short time

I just realize agatha cannot actually say the name billy, can she? because of the sigil. so this is her going, I know it's still you kiddo, behind all that. I see some people arguing that agatha might actually think he's Nicky at first and personally I don't believe that's the case, the dialogue is muddy only to mislead the viewers before the big Wiccan reveal.

Two reasons agatha knew this was billy all along: she's had three centuries to sit with nicky's loss now. nicky is gone for good, no matter all her tricks and her pleading and her endless pit of sorrow, that is the one irrevocable fact that she will never be able to change. that is the cornerstone, the whole core of who agatha is today. she has lost nicky, she has committed unspeakable horrors to cope with that loss. she is afraid to die because nicky is on the other side and she cannot face him.

The second reason is that agatha loves billy for being billy, not just as a nicky stand-in. she was uniquely equipped to understand and empathize with wanda, and that's even more true for billy because he's a little boy and agatha's whole heart is wired and predisposed to reach out to him. she saw the miracle that was his birth, she saw first hand what chaos magic can do. this is a child flung out in the world carrying an immense power and no instructions on how to use it. he's capable of terrible things that could easily turn him into a monster and a pariah, and agatha is, besides wanda, the only person in the world who truly understands what that means. do you remember what happened to agatha at around the age billy is now? everything in her is demanding to guide and help. selfishly, because all that power would be hers to control. selfishly because he reminds her of herself and she wants to undo what her mother did to her. and selfishly because helping billy would in a way redeem what she did to nicky.

and also, selflessly. because she wants to help him grow and be successful and be happy.

billy created the Road to find tommy, sure. but what he's been doing on the Road is finding community. or rather, getting close to witchfolk to find out who he is in relationship to them, exploring the identity he was born with that he cannot express with his adoptive parents. he started with a lot of silly ideas on what witches should and shouldn't be and created trials that are, let's face it, rather stereotyped and demeaning. next trial is agatha and he is puzzling her out now, willing her to become the ideal witch and mentor he's looking for. he's doing it with the grace of an elephant in a china store, but that's just what being a kid is.

aaand the wall is all the way up and she runs away. but we made some progress there, didn't we?

oh to be a vampire and getting to bite patti lupone's neck

rio looks so engrossed and fascinated listening to lilia! rio just loves people, you know? she loves life in all its multifaceted forms, and that's not at odds with her job description at all. she is The Green Witch, she has embraced nature, which is to say life, so completely that all of it is important and precious to her. my headcanon is that as the original green witch she started ferrying souls because she deeply understood and accepted death as natural and organic and sought to help it along. it's funny, lilia is terrified of her but if asked, rio would have such a long list of things that make lilia special.

and that such a being would fell in love with agatha of all people?? god that is amazing. that is how you write a beautifully doomed epic love story. billions and billions of humans throughout history, and agatha is who caught her eye. and not because agatha is a serial killer mind you, that's just foreplay. it's because she is the most intense, the most interesting human Death ever came across. while others saw a damaged girl, rio saw poetry in her extraordinary complexity

and then, through agatha and nicky, rio experienced grief from a new point of view. Death, no longer impartial.

a wiser future Lilia pays another brief visit

and she's gone. her puzzled little face!

from being awkward and fearing her oddities to laughing with her about it. another step toward a deeper understanding, and acceptance, and love.

look at agatha's body language when she approaches. uncertain, arms crossed. these people have seen her without her mask now, openly weeping about billy

and then she puts her hands in her pockets and postures, ready to underplay things. pppft, crying? moi? you guys must have dreamed it.

alice with her big compassionate heart will never be able to think of agatha as cruel and distant again

agatha picks up rio's flower

rio looks at her

pretends she wasn't looking when agatha looks back

you could cut the damn tension with a knife

jen trying to include agatha??? man they did really see her cying fr

look how interested lilia is! I wish shows could just be 15 hours of women hanging out and chatting, no plot, just vibes

agatha glances at rio as if saying, you know exactly which scar this is. and rio chuckles because she remembers the story. THE INTIMACY BETWEEN THESE TWO. I'm going feral again.

what is this, camaraderie? community? perhaps even, dare I say it, friendship???

agatha doesn't know what to do with herself!

behold the textbook definition of 'awkward turtle'

oh rio's DETERMINED

'no you don't' 'yes I do' STOP IT YOU STUPID GAYS

agatha all casual like honey I've seen every inch of that body

just... the way they fell into a rhythm. the doMESTICITY.

lol jen's and alice's gaydars pinging at the same time. like somETHING FRUITY IS AFOOT. AND WE WOULD KNOW.

and fuck fuck fuck fuck I cannot believe I've run out of space again and I need to do a part 7

LOOK WHAT THESE LESBIANS ARE DOING TO ME (it'll be up in like an hour guys don't worry)

go to episode 4 part 7

[lloydskywalkers]

drywall

went to go work on raising hell and ended up missing Skylor, so!! I will always have so many emotions about s8/9 and the aftermath of it, here's another gallon of them.

Two months after they’ve taken back the city and the street lights are finally starting to work again, Lloyd shows up at the restaurant an hour past closing time, sporting a spectacularly bruise and enough blood across his gi to make the Ninjago City Blood Drive team’s day. 

“Hi, Sky.” Lloyd waltzes — or attempts to, it’s more of a stumbling collapse — right in as if nothing’s amiss in the slightest. “Sorry, I’m, uh. Was in the neighborhood and I wasn’ sure…where else t’ go.”

Skylor, still frozen over a stained tabletop with her dishtowel in hand, stares at him. 

All things considered, she should be fully prepared for something like this. It should practically be in her restaurant’s training manual, that at some point you’ll end up confronted with a bloody, half-dead ninja in your door. But given how slow the past few weeks have been, coupled with the sheer exhaustion of dealing with the lunch rush and the dinner rush and the late-night somewhat-inebriated people rush, her guard is apparently down enough to leave her reacting with a simple, useless, “Oh god.”

“Tha’s my grandfather,” Lloyd says. There’s blood at the corner of his mouth — coupled with the bruising, Skylor thinks (hopes) it’s simply from split skin or a bitten cheek, instead of crippling internal bleeding. 

Crippling internal bleeding is enough of a concern to finally spur her into action, dropping her towel and rushing over to help Lloyd finish stumbling through the door. She spares a moment of thanks, that there’s even a door at all — repairs in the city have been slow, since Harumi’s brief reign of terror, and the insurance provider is still holding out on her. 

But the door was a good thing to prioritize, she thinks, bolting it firmly behind them. 

“Sorry, again,” Lloyd murmurs. His jaw is working in the tight way it does when he’s biting back pain, his bottom lip bruised and bleeding. Skylor’s stomach twists. 

You’d think, after all she’s been through, she’d be more accustomed to seeing the people she cares about in pain. That she’d be desensitized enough, to fight back the aching nausea and the gnawing desire to look away. 

Or maybe she’s just a coward. That would track, she thinks. 

“Shush,” she says instead, maneuvering Lloyd further into one of the nicer booths, careful of the blood that’s…everywhere. “What did you do to yourself this time, huh?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lloyd grumbles, his voice steadier now that he’s sitting down. Unfortunately, he’s only paler under the yellowy restaurant lights, and the blood looks about ten times worse. “I just…slipped. A bit.”

Slipped. Skylor could smack him, if he wasn’t already hurt. 

“Lemme see, then.” She bends down to where she can tug the folds of his gi back, trying to trace the blood to a source. She finally finds it — an ugly wound in his left shoulder, several long gashes across his forearm. A knife, maybe. Possibly a sword, but it looks close-up and quick. It’d need to have been quick, for whoever was wielding it to land this many hits. 

Or Lloyd would have to be sloppy. 

Lloyd gives a stifled, shuddery exhale, a dangerous preamble to tears. Skylor pauses, just for a moment, and deliberates. 

She’s got Nya’s number, carefully keyed into her phone ever since she and Kai started visiting the noodle house. There’s no doubt in her mind that she’d want to know about this — and there’s less doubt that Kai would want to know. if anything, she’s surprised he hasn’t burst through the restaurant doors already, summoned by whatever sixth sense he has that goes off when Lloyd’s in danger. 

But Skylor also knows there’s got to be a reason that Lloyd came here, despite his claims. Just as there’s probably a reason he didn’t call Kai or Nya, or any of the others. 

And perhaps she feels just a little proud, that Lloyd’s chosen her to come to. 

It’s quickly lost in the blood that coats her hands as she begins patching the wound in his shoulder, but the feeling’s there nonetheless. 

It’s a nice feeling, being relied on. Being trusted. 

“Who got you this bad?”

She speaks up mostly to break the quiet. Lloyd isn’t quite like Kai, who likes talking simply to fill a space, but she knows he isn’t fond of silence, either. It’s one of the things they share in common. 

“No one.” Lloyd sucks in a breath as she draws the bandage tight across his shoulder, wrapping it beneath his arm and back over. His eyes close briefly as she ties it off, forehead scrunching up, before he lets out another shuddery exhale. “Some guy, uh — guy on the way home, near the subway. I had answered a call earlier, and I guess — ow, hey—” 

“Sorry,” Skylor winces, as she finishes dumping antiseptic across the slashes on his arm. “It hurts less if you aren’t expecting it.”

“That’s a lie,” Lloyd says, pointedly. 

She shrugs. “So, random subway mugger?”

Lloyd looks away, his cheeks darkening. It’s a relief, to see any color in his face at all. “Sort of.”

He leaves it at that, lapsing back into silence. Skylor looks down, focusing on the butterfly stitches she’s placing across his arm. Were it anyone else, she’d have panicked for actual stitches, but Lloyd heals with an uncanny quickness. She remembers Nya complaining about it, back during the Resistance — how Lloyd threw a fit when his skin healed over the stitches, and they’d had to cut him open all over again. 

She’d probably throw a fit of her own, to be fair. 

“Well, if you see him,” she says, reaching for the roll of bandages. “Point him out. I could use a punching bag.”

Lloyd’s lips quirk, a ghost of a smile. 

“Thank you.”

It’s quiet enough she might’ve missed it, if they were any further apart. Skylor doesn’t miss the meaning, either. She simply shakes her head, wrapping another layer around his arm. 

“I’m just glad you came to someone,” she says. “Instead of half-assing it yourself.”

Lloyd’s fingers twitch. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh-huh.”

She can’t pretend she doesn’t understand. Her childhood is filled with fun little memories of patching herself together, hiding wounds from Clouse or her father in an attempt to convince them she was better than she was.

Not that the people Lloyd is hiding from are anything remotely like her father, of course, but there’s an overlap between people you fear and people you love, and trying to convince them you’re stronger than you are. 

“That should do it,” she nods to herself, surveying her work. She feels unusually proud of herself — Skylor’s never really stayed with a team long enough to have many chances to patch people up. It’s rarer that people are so open to her touching them, once they’ve learned what her power is. The ninja are an exceedingly kind exception, but it still makes her feel warm, being given this kind of trust. 

She glances up, eyeing her patient. Lloyd’s still pale, but it’s far better than the ashy color from earlier anymore. “Anywhere else?”

“No.” Lloyd stares at the strip of bandages across his arms, shoulders hunched over on himself.

“I have Nya on speed dial, you know—”

“Its just a few scrapes,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Skylor sighs. “Lemme see.”

Lloyd grumbles, but he lets her grab his arm again, wincing as she dabs antiseptic over the smaller cuts. There’s nothing serious — just a few nicks and scratches, the kind you get from eating the ground mid-fight. He’s got one uglier scrape, but it’s about as nasty as a skinned knee, and easily eclipsed by the scar it bleeds through. 

Her fingers falter. She knows this scar — she was there when Kai struggled to patch the wound it once was, back on her father’s island. It’s an ugly, jagged scar, a testament to how Kai’s hands had shook as he’d tried to be gentle. 

In hindsight, it had been a terrible moment. Kai wasn’t sure if Lloyd had picked up the wound from the underground tunnels, Chen’s cultists, or his own brief slip into the madness of the staff. Lloyd wouldn’t say where it was from, even if either of them had been much for talking. And Skylor had been an awkward, purple-scaled fixture next to them, holding the medical kit while the others planned how to kill her father. 

And yet, it was the lightest she’d ever felt. 

Skylor bites her lip. 

She’s never told Lloyd, what exactly he’d meant to her. He likely has no idea, what he’d represented when she’d first met him. 

The son of one of Ninjago’s greatest villains — and people loved him. 

Kai loved him. 

If Lloyd could overcome the hurdle of his parentage and choose to live the way he wanted, if people could look past the dark stain of his legacy and love him anyways, then maybe—

He’d been hope, when she needed it most. And Kai had lived up to that hope, taking Skylor’s half-formed, frail dream and fueling it into a blaze.

Her eyes close, briefly, and she shivers. 

“Are you okay?”

Blinking her eyes back open, she comes face to face with Lloyd’s concerned expression. She shakes her head, looking away. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Embarrassment pulls at her. “Just a bit of…aftershocks. You know.”

Lloyd frowns, clearly not knowing. “Aftershocks,” he repeats. “From…”

His eyes go wide, only for his expression to immediately crumple. “Oh.”

Skylor waves her hands. “It’s not bad,” she reassures him. “I can barely feel him — his power — anymore. Just pins and needles in my hands sometimes, that’s all. Totally…totally normal.”

She hopes. Garmadon’s power had burned, in the way bitter cold feels against your skin, so a bit of numbness is pretty decent tradeoff, if she says so herself. 

Lloyd looks down, expression shadowed and hidden. Skylor could curse herself — she knows better, than to bring up—

“Here.” Lloyd’s suddenly holding his hand out, looking at her earnestly. It’s an almost childish expression of sincerity, one that makes him look much younger — a little more like the Lloyd she met on her father’s island, who beamed when his father ruffled his hair. 

Her chest aches fiercely, and Skylor holds out her hand before she can hesitate. Lloyd takes it carefully in his own, and she watches in fascination as the low shimmer of green engulfs her fingers. Lloyd’s power is as gentle as he is — nothing like the ravaging purple storm that was his father’s. 

“Oh,” she says. “That’s nice.”

Lloyd makes a humming noise. “I’ve been practicing. H-his power doesn’t get along with mine, that much. So it kinda…makes room. For whoever’s stronger, at the moment.”

Skylor fights back a shudder. Realistically, she knows she shouldn’t feel ashamed, that Garmadon overpowered her — he’s Garmadon. The reminder of how his power felt still stings, though. 

It’s a reassurance, that Lloyd’s power is stronger now. His element, if you can even call it that, is probably the one she’s the least familiar with — she’s never tried to copy Lloyd’s power. She isn’t entirely sure if she could, or if she should. Dipping into Garmadon’s power was dangerous enough. Skylor isn’t stupid enough to pretend she has the willpower to meddle with the power of the FSM’s family much more than that. 

“It feels like cheating, kinda,” she finally says. “That fighting fuels his power. How are you supposed to fight back?”

Lloyd shrugs, letting her hand go. “You don’t. You get really good at dodging.”

Skylor leans forward, propping her chin up in her palms. “That’s stupid.”

“Well,” Lloyd’s lips twitch, just the slightest bit. “That’s Garmadon, so.”

His expression immediately fractures, and Skylor can spot the battle in his eyes as he tries to grasp for composure. Her teeth worry at her lip.

She should really call Nya, now. Or try to track down Kai’s number. Or anyone else — it’s nearly two hours past closing, the kitchen’s still a mess, and Lloyd’s blood is all over her dishrags. Lloyd himself is hardly in better shape, the ghostly pale of his skin reminding her horribly of when she first saved them from the Sons of Garmadon, and Skylor is—

Not enough. 

She ought to know that, by now.

But the fact still stands, that Lloyd came to her. A part of her clings to that, and another selfish, awful part of her, the part that festered on her father’s island for so many years, the part that still flinches beneath the weight of her last name — well. 

Misery loves company, is probably the best way to put it. 

“I should…I should probably get going,” Lloyd says, uncertainly. He doesn’t make any move to get up, though, still small and weary where he’s hunched up in her booth. 

Skylor stares at him, and thinks of sitting for hours on the edge of her father’s island, staring at the sun on the water until her eyes ached. 

“Hey,” she says, a bit breathless, twisting her fingers together. “Wanna go skip rocks?”

Quite fairly, Lloyd stares at her like she’s lost her mind. 

They end up on the rickety end of one of Ninjago City’s abandoned docks anyways, a mismatched selection of somewhat flat rocks spilling out of a Chen’s to-go bag. Lloyd’s left arm is tied up in a mangled sort of sling they fashioned from Skylor’s old sweatshirt, leaving him to turn a rock over in his right hand awkwardly. 

“So, funny thing,” he says. “I don’t, uh. I’m not very good at this.”

“That’s okay,” Skylor says, sifting through the rocks they’ve gathered. “I’m not, either.”

“Yeah?” Lloyd sounds hopeful. “I mean, you at least know the trick to it, right?”

“I don’t,” she shrugs. “I’ve never…I’ve never skipped rocks before.”

Lloyd stares at her. 

“It’s not that weird,” she huffs, fighting back the urge to hide. “I mean, I never really had the chance, but I aways thought — I grew up near the ocean, and all these lakes, so I always thought it’d be fun to, y’know, skip rocks, since I didn’t really have…anyone else, to…”

The rest of the sentence is about to turn even more humiliating, so it’s a relief when Lloyd interrupts her. 

“I haven’t either.” 

He immediately flushes. “That’s why I’m not good at it.’Cause I’ve never actually skipped rocks.” 

“Oh.” Skylor looks at their bag, then back up at him. “Well, cool. We’ll both suck, then.”

“How hard can it be, anyways?” Lloyd says, sorting through their rocks. “You just find a flat one, right?”

“Yeah,” Skylor says. “Then you sort of just, frisbee it. I think.”

“Hm.”

“You haven’t thrown a frisbee either, have you.”

“Oh, like you have.”

Skylor presses her lips together, snorting. “Was wondering when your snark was gonna show back up.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you not remember half the stuff that came out of your mouth, back at the tournament?”

“You would’ve been out of your mind too, if you had to herd the guys around then — also, bold words coming from you, ooh, how dare you call me a traitor, even though it’s totally dead-on—”

“That wasn’t even close to what I said, and also—” Skylor snatches a smooth rock before Lloyd can, hefting it up. “It’s not like I was gonna admit to you all I was a traitor. That defeats the whole purpose of betraying. Lying my way out of a corner was the smart choice.”

“You’d be surprised,” Lloyd mutters, as Skylor flings her rock across the water.

They both watch as it splashes sadly, sinking instantly like, well. A rock. 

“Okay,” Skylor cringes. “That was a warm-up.”

Several warm-ups later, neither of them have made any progress whatsoever, save to torment whatever fish are hanging out on this side of Ninjago City’s harbor with relentless rock barrages. 

“This is ridiculous,” Lloyd huffs, watching as his rock all but torpedoes into the water. “What’s wrong with us, that we can’t get one stupid rock to skip?”

“Maybe it’s in the wrist?” Skylor flexes her hand, angling it one way then another. She winds ups, throws the rock out, and — nope. 

“I think we’re getting worse,” Lloyd remarks as Skylor sputters, wiping the seawater that splashed up from her face. 

She can’t help but agree. They’re down to a few rocks left, and neither of them have made any progress, much less skipped a single rock. At some point, they give up altogether, seeing who can throw their rock out the furthest instead. 

“This one’s going…” Lloyd raises his arm, closing one eye and squinting as he angles higher. He finally pauses with his hand pointing upwards toward Ninjago City. “Right through that weird oval thing on Borg Tower.” 

“Don’t hit it too hard,” Skylor says. “They just got it back up last week.”

“I’m not hitting it, it’s going through it, weren’t you listening?”

“To you? Nah. I’ve heard you suck at public speaking.”

“Wow, after you forced me into the live broadcast and everything—”

As if to emphasize his distress, Lloyd takes a running start, hurling the rock forward. They watch as it arcs across the skyline, before plummeting somewhere in the harbor. 

“So close,” Skylor murmurs. 

Lloyd flops on the ground with a dull thump, legs sprawling in front of him as he leans back on his elbows. Skylor’s makeshift sling isn’t doing much at all anymore, though it looks like he doesn’t need it to.

That, or he’s hiding pain stupidly well. Which wouldn’t be surprising, if disappointing. 

“Defeated,” he mourns. “Overthrown by rocks.”

Skylor dusts gingerly at the ground before sitting next to him. “They sure got the best of us, this time.”

“Maybe it’s a learning curve,” he says. “That or we missed, like, the optimal rock-skipping development time.”

“Mmh. Maybe we need to recruit a teacher who actually had a decent childhood.”

“If you find someone, lemme know.”

They both laugh, breathless and hollow, because they’re not much else they can say, to that. 

Lloyd sits up suddenly, pulling his knees to his chest. His arms wrap tightly around them, eyes glued forward. Instead of asking, Skylor follows his gaze to the skyline of Ninjago City, the darkened scars left behind by Garmadon and Harumi painfully pronounced this late at night. 

It couldn’t have been longer than two weeks, could it? Their rule over the city?

It feels like years.

She can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for the others — can’t imagine what it was like, ending it. 

It pains her, but Skylor doesn’t remember much of Garmadon’s defeat. She’d thrown everything she had into controlling his power, and when it had snapped back on her, ravaging through her like a cloying poison, everything had gone dark and hazy. 

It kind of sucks, because she’d done all that just to miss the most important parts, but…it is what it is.

What she does remember, besides Nya’s steady voice and Dareth’s panicked yelling, is the blazing warmth that was Lloyd carrying her.

That and his painfully bony shoulder digging into her stomach. 

“I was trying not to get us crushed,” Lloyd mutters, cheeks turning pink. “Sorry my shoulder wasn’t up to cushion-y standards.”

“And I’m trying to say thank you,” Skylor sighs. “But seriously. Put something on those bones.”

“Meh meh meh,” Lloyd mocks. There’s a lack of his usual energy in the action, the dullness to his eyes only made worse by the bruise-like circles beneath them. But it’s still very Lloyd — a flash of the friend she knows. 

“I really do mean it,” she says. “Thank you. For carrying me out of there. For saving me.”

Lloyd stares at her with dark eyes. Not as dark as they were, back when he’d lost his power, but the glow is almost entirely absent.

“You shouldn’t—” he bites off, frustrated. He tosses the rock he’s holding, up and down. “It was never a question.”

He glances at her. “Besides,” and there’s the closest she’s seen to a real smile. “You saved us first.”

Not nearly soon enough, she thinks. 

She should’ve told him, should have asked — should have let him know how it felt to watch her father fall deeper into madness, told him what it felt like to lose hope — what it meant, to move on. 

To cut ties, before they strangled you. 

“How are you,” she says, as gently as she can. Then, because gentle doesn’t always get you through the walls they build— “For real. Not how people want to hear you’re doing, or the answer you think they want. How are you.” 

Lloyd stiffens. There’s a flicker of fear in his expression, his mouth moving on instinct. 

“I’m doing okay.”

Tremors lace through his hand where he holds the rock, shuddering fingers tracing over the rough surface. 

“Okay as I can be.” He looks down, the rock slipping from his fingers as his arms wrap around himself. “I know that isn’t the answer you want, but I don’t…”

He looks back up, the lights of Ninjago City misty in his eyes.  

“I don’t know what people want me to say,” he whispers. 

Skylor wishes he’d screamed it. Wishes he’d snap, wishes he’d find the anger where it simmers inside him and turn it outwards against the world, rather than violently projecting it inwards like a masochistic missile all the time. Anything at all, instead of this hollow brokenness. 

It reminds Skylor a bit too much of—

Well. 

“I know I — things are—” Lloyd swallows. He pauses, raising his hand to scrub at an already-bloodshot eye. “Everything happened so fast. It was like — like getting hit with a bus, then another bus, then she — put the bus in reverse and ran me back over, and I never really had the chance to…to…”

“To get back up?”

Lloyd nods. He picks absently at a bloodstained patch on the leg of his gi. “And I know that’s just a stupid metaphor, but getting back up is…it’s really—”

Lloyd’s pulling threads loose now, tugging hard enough that he’s likely to start unraveling holes in his gi. 

“Can I tell you something? Something that’s not…not so good.”

“Hey, you know me.” Skylor elbows him. “I’m an expert at not-good.”

Lloyd’s eyes are a little too knowing. “You’re really not.”

And she’d turn a mirror on him, if she could. “What is it, then?”

Lloyd looks away, one unusually-sharp tooth gnawing at his lip. 

“I know my dad — my dad I used to have — he loved me. I know he did.” Lloyd sounds, rather devastatingly, like he’s trying to convince himself. “But now that he’s…now that he’s like this, and after everything that happened, I almost wish — I almost—”

He cuts off, covering his face with his hands. “Never mind.”

Skylor stays still, her gaze fixed ahead on a dark spot in the city skyline. If it were her, she’d want—

Lloyd’s voice is a muffled whisper. “I wish he’d never loved me at all.”

Skylor lets out a long, shaky breath. 

Lloyd gives a dry, horrible kind of laugh. “That’s terrible, isn’t it? It’s so selfish, it’s — I’m a horrible person, for thinking that way. But it — it hurts now, to think that — that maybe, now that I’m different — and her — that even my dad—” 

“It hurts,” she murmurs. “To lose it. To think that it’s your fault.”

Lloyd brings his arms over his head, the bandages on his left arm a stark white in the dimness as he buries his face in his knees. Curling up, as if he can make himself small enough the world will finally forget he exists. 

Skylor’s…familiar. 

But then again, is she? 

She swallows. Her father was one thing, but if — if he came back now, after she’s worked so hard to move on — at the height of his madness, what would she do? 

She’s out of her depth, as she’s always been.

But there was a reason she answered the call so fervently, a reason she followed Lloyd without hesitation. Skylor doesn’t put much stock in the Green Ninja, doesn’t put much in any kind of prophecy. But she does care, very much, about Lloyd, and she thinks that’ll take her a bit farther.

“You know.” She looks down, running her finger over their last rock. “You were one of the first people that gave me any hope that I could change. That, uh, someone could love me.”

Lloyd startles, emerging just enough that she can see the green of an eye. “Huh? Me?”

She nods. “Back on my father’s island, during the tournament. I was convinced that…that after everything I’d done, with who I was, there wasn’t a chance I’d find someone who loved me.”

Lloyd frowns, lowering his arms so he can look at her fully. “But I didn’t — Kai was the one who reached out to you. He was the one that saw you. I didn’t…I didn’t really do anything.”

“Yeah. He did. But he reached out to you, first.”

Lloyd stares at her, eyes wide. Skylor smiles at him. “You were good. No matter how bad your family had been. And it…it had been okay, for you.” 

The mistiness returns to Lloyd’s eyes as he looks back to the skyline, his lip caught tightly between his teeth. 

“We’re doing okay, right?” Skylor pulls her own knees up to her chest. “You and me. I mean, we helped, a lot. We fought back for the city. You did a lot more than me, obviously, but—”

“Don’t say that,” Lloyd sounds pained. “Don’t compare it, like I’m — I do a lot more harm than good, sometimes.”

“You don’t say that,” Skylor snaps. 

Lloyd flinches. She bows her head, staring down at her feet. 

“We’re good,” she says, hating the way her voice wobbles. “We’re different.”

It’s occurring to her, how cold it is out here on the water. She hopes Lloyd doesn’t get home with a cold, on top of everything else. 

“We’re different,” Lloyd echoes.

“Yeah.” Skylor swallows. “That has to count for something, right?”

Lloyd makes a small noise, but it isn’t one of disagreement. There’s a rustling as he reaches for the bag, then holds out their final, sad rock. 

“Wanna give it the last try?” He gives her a crooked, half smile. “Make it count?”

Her fingers close over the rough surface, cold against the warmth of his hand. 

The brightness of the sun against water on her father’s island in her eyes, Skylor flings the rock as hard as she can, far enough that it’s swallowed entirely by the harbor darkness. 

If she tries, she can imagine it skipping, just once, across the freezing waters. 

She tells herself, it counts anyways.

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I know you?

Jason Todd X Reader

Synopsis: In the aftermath of a brief Kidnapping, Red Hood seems to think your important and wont stop hanging around your apartment.

Or in other terms, Jason got scared you were gonna die and doesn’t want to leave you alone

Notes: Reader is a waitress at a local bookstore/coffee shop that Jason frequents and he has grown very fond of her. They are vague acquaintances And she does not know that Jason is Red Hood. This is literally my first-ever attempt at a fanfic and Jason Todd has been rattling around in my brain. I might attempt to make this like a short series or something. Anyway, I hope it's enjoyed!!

“I think I have a new favorite stalker,” you say loudly out your open window.

 Keeping your window open in Gotham was probably the worst idea you could ever have but your curiosity got the better of you when started to notice the fleeting red hanging out across the street and occasionally on your fire escape over the past two weeks. At first you were worried considering your recent encounter with Scarecrow as an attempted research rat.

However, the longer the red stayed near the easier it became to recognize. His helmet was shiny, which is what made it so easy to spot him. How that was helpful to a vigilante you didn’t know. Red hood was watching you and you had a feeling it was to make sure you were okay. You had heard of other bats checking on Civilians after traumatic incidents when they could, but every night for two weeks seems a bit excessive and he hasn’t actually talked to you. So what was he doing?

With no response to your jab, you lean out your window and repeat yourself, making a point to stare at the red helmet on the building across the street.

“I said I think I have a new favorite stalker!” You continue to stare him down.

Even in the minimal street lighting you can see his body tense, ready to run.

“Maybe he’d like to chat?” you tilt your head in questioning. You don’t why you asked. You were bad at keeping a regular conversation. If he came over and did, in fact, decide to chat, it might end up a short conversation. 

A clattered thud pulls you from your thoughts and you gaze turns from the opposite roof top to the very large man now standing on your fire escape next to your window. You can’t help but stare at him. 6” something and built like a brick wall. Intimidating even leaning against the building.

Was he this big when he saved me?

“Hi?” is the only response you could muster. The urge to slam the window closed and shut your curtains itches at your finger tips. He stares at you, or at least you assume as much, the helmets white eyes giving away nothing. No wonder people were terrified of Red Hood. You haven’t even done anything wrong and you could wet yourself  right here and now.

“Hi” You don’t know why your shocked to hear the modulated voice. He had talked to when he saved you from Scarecrow but it was still strange to hear. Slightly robotic but definitely a person underneath.

You realize that, maybe, you’ve been staring for too long.

“Tea?” you back away from the window and head for the kitchen expecting him to follow, as well as taking a moment to breath.

You just invited a good/bad vigilante into your home! What is wrong with you?  Your mind is a swirling, anxious debate as you fill your kettle.

“I only have Green tea, I hope you don’t mind.” you yell from the kitchen, unsure if he was even in the apartment.

“Not at all” His voice is close then you anticipated, assuming he stay close to the window.

Instead you turn to find him sitting comfortably at your dining room table, watching you move about the kitchen. He looks out of place in your soft warm toned home. His brown leather jacket the only thing that could blend in. The harsh red bat on his chest sticking out like a sore thumb. Your gaze lingers a moment at the holsters on his thighs, suddenly realizing that if he wanted to do something to you, you were screwed. You turn back to your cabinets and pull out a couple of mugs, pushing away the thoughts. Red Hood was good guy, despite what previous attempts at bad he had in the past. You stand at the counter and stare at your kettle, willing it to heat faster. After a moment, You hear a distorted sigh.

“You wanted to talk?” Red Hood asks

You shrug your shoulders without turning, not entirely prepared for a conversation just yet. Red Hood doesn’t push you. The kettle begins to whistle, and you pour the two mugs, settling tea bags into them. You pick them up and set one in front of red hood, and settle into the seat opposite his, blowing on your tea. You take a sip and promptly burn your tongue, hissing in pain.

“it’s hot”

Your eyes fly up to Red Hood. You choke out a thanks, Having not realized he had taken off his Helmet. You let eye linger across his face, very handsome. A scar on his lips, that rests in a smirk, and another across his cheek. As you eye move up you let out a startled laugh, Another mask keeps his eyes hidden.

“What?” He asks, The smirk on his lips grows.

As your laughing fit slows, you pause to breath.

“You wear two masks.” You pause waiting for him to laugh. All he does is furrow his brows.

“it’s funny” you insist but he doesn’t respond. You settle down again. Well as much as you can considering the man in front of you, staring at your mug, slightly embarrassed

“So I’m your favorite stalker? You got a few?” Red's voice rings out in the silence. It’s rough and deep, like he’d been yelling.

A flush creeps up your face. If you were embarrassed before, you were definitely embarrassed now. It had taken you all day to come up with the throw away comment. You thought It was funny. You also didn’t think you would get this far in your interaction with Red Hood.

“Not really, just the one I hope” you chance a glance at him to find him still unsettlingly staring at you as a he takes a sip of his tea, now cooled. Your mind searches for what else to say.

“That’s good, I wouldn’t want that either” Jason finally breaks eye contact with you, looking around your apartment.

With his stare no longer on you, you take the opportunity to really take him in. Despite the scars on his face, there was kindness there. And despite his intimidating stature, he seemed to pull himself in, like he was afraid to take up space. His forearms exposed through his suit. What a weird design. Not that you were complaining. Overall, Red Hood was hot. You flush at the thought.

“Thank you, by the way” you rush out, “for saving me… it really means a lot”

Jason turns his gaze back to you. You brave up and hold his stare. Suddenly thinking, he looks familiar. You furrow your brows for a moment.

“Do I know you?” You ask before you can stop yourself. You physically cringe and try to back track.

“I mean, obviously I know you, you saved my life and all but I mean like I know your face? Maybe, not that it matters. Course you wouldn’t tell me if I did know your civilian identity because then it wouldn’t be a secret. I just think I know your face but that doesn’t mean that I want you to tell me. And maybe you just have one of those faces…” you continue to ramble some more. Jason watches you carefully and finishes his tea. You pause to breath in your rant and he jumps in.

“Thanks for the tea” he grabs his Helmet, sliding it on before continuing, voice changed, “and your welcome, for saving you.”

You watches as he walks back toward the window, frozen and unsure what to do. As climbs out onto the fire escape you yell out.

“Your welcome and you don’t have to hide outside, you can come in next time.”

He’s gone before even finish the sentence. You sink back in your chair.

What is wrong with you? Why are you so awkward? That was terrible!

You try to push the interaction from your mind as you close the window and go about spot cleaning your apartment. Once done your anxious thoughts return.

This is going to be a long night. You think as you turn into bed.

[kurishiri]

Jude chapter 2 silly but kinda detailed summary

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ any pretty translation you may see in here may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. this is a sort of summary as well. if you enjoy, though, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

for some ungodly reason jude and ellis r in kates room the moment she woke up and judes not lookin very appy hes like how long r ya gon sleep for ya bloody pleb and ellis is like haaii gm kate 🌸✨✨ and then jude like “get ready in 3 seconds” while holdin her chin. again, for some reason lmao

ok turns out we goin to their other jobs at a company called raven co

and ellis tells kate they got shops overseas too (wow jude got a boomin business) and they sell stuff in a lotta places and allat jazz. anw some dude greets kate and the others and thinks that kate is ellis gf. kates like umm no and hes like so ur the boss’ gf?

then he gets judes boot before kate can reply and judes like

Jude: It’s all yappin’ with ya so early in the mornin’, I see.

J: If ya gonna yap useless things, how ‘bout ya use that mouth o’ yours to do a bit more o’ your job?

J: If ya want a pay cut though, that’s a separate matter.

turns out the dudes name is theodore walker. 21 y/o. employee. first impression: bright dude

so kate asks ellis what his role is and hes like “hmm lets see, being a guard, preparing for guests, confirming clients, brewing up a storm…” and kate here thinkin wait a damn minute i have a feeling i heard smth real violent just now and then is like do you do anything else and well ellis responds with more violent words with a 😊 face. kate is like i thought i got myself into an evil org then jude comes in like

Jude: Well this evil company’s boss got some work cut out for ya.

she gotta sort out these letters (a loott of letters…) and judes like “if ya worked as a letter carrier ya mustve had to sort out letters before gettin breakfast”

ok so apparently judes kate just blurts out things w/o thinkin 💀 bc this time shes like well if hes gonna make fun of me (jude calls her princess but /neg) then challenge accepted! and then is like “ok bet i will get this done ez pz 🍋 squeezy” and judes got that shit eatin grin on his face like “that ya will do by the time i get back”

they r indeed still in their enemies era. her only saving grace now is ellis’ kind smile. ellis to the rescue! ⛓️🫶✨

omg ellis is actually an angel here he helps kate when he can sorting out letters and hes like gj today kate. you managed to do sm on ur own, u should be proud of urself and kate is like hes so kind… (yes he is!)

ah yes we cant escape the ellis is sweet as jam™️ allegations here

kate asks ellis why he joined crown and tldr its bc vic reached out to jude and jude said ok

Kate: But did you have to get caught up in all this too…?

Ellis: But——he made a promise with me.

As he said this, Ellis’ eyes narrowed softly.

Kate: …A promise?

Ellis: I’m waiting for Jude to reach the happiest moment of his life.

E: And I need to be by his side to see that moment.

[ insert some lines im too lazy to tl here ]

Ellis: But, it seems that moment just doesn’t want to come. …It’s like Jude is always unhappy.

jude comes in the door like yall so damn annoyin and is like stop yappin bout she don’t need to know. but ellis is like but its her job as fairytale keeper. and kate is like “i have a question for u too jude! why do u have ellis by ur side?” jude responds like “none ya damn business” but one tinie push from ellis and jude lets out a resigned sigh and speaks on it and is like hes got physical strength and a good ability. cant let that sorta value slip by. that said his heads got some screws loose so

and kate is like omg! he answered me!!

(So Jude has Ellis by his side so he can use his abilities at his convenience,)

(and Ellis wants Jude to fulfill his wish, I guess?)

They kept one another by each other’s side to help realize what the other wants.

——If I were to put into words what their relationship would be, it would be ‘a contractual relationship.’

That was the day I had gotten my hands on valuable information on Jude for the first time.

ko-fi☕️ ┊ comms🤍

NOTE: i forgot to mention that i can take comms to tl judes main story chapters, avatar mission stories, and his side stories in full, as ciele, the one whos gonna tl his story, said that i could tl chapters from his story too. the turnaround time per chapter is usually around 1–2 days from the time i start it. (for jude it might be closer to 2 days.)

[derpydoteddrake]

Viktor is under some kind of influence, but at first glance it's hard to tell the exact nature of it.

But I believe its more simple than one would think.

The core is basically jingling keys in front of him and telling him to look at them.

But I believe its more simple than one would think.

The core is basically jingling keys in front of him and telling him to look at them.

Firstly, why is the sky hallucination sus? could it just be his own mind?

Her guiding him to her book and later showing up next to the shimmer addict could be explained as just his conscious.

However, he also woke up to her screams and it was her voice that guided him to the addicts, both things go beyond what could manifest only from his own perception of things.

Not only that, this is the exact place where he later cocoons himself again. So it's no accident he ended up here.

It's also good to note how Viktors saw her differently then how she was, he sees him as a more idolised version of herself, which is als a good indication that she is not real.

But then in act 2 she appeals completely harmless, she doesn't push him into anything, and it looks like she offers some sense of emotional support.

And that's the point, it's feeding into viktors weaknesses as a person, all it needs to do, is give him the illusion of company, and keep him in his head.

Viktor was always a loner, but he also seeked out second opinions and he was in fact very lonely and wished for company.

This is exactly what the core is giving him the illusion of. A second opinion and company.

By herself “sky” does not offer any new information to viktor, she is either stathing things he is already aware of, things viktor thinks she would say, or reassures him.

“She liked me, she would be concerned about me!”

“I remember telling her that once!”

“She was caring, she would be upset at someone's death!”

In fact, it might even try to distract him from the important things, we don't see a lot of it, but the moment Viktor starts to wonder what's up with Jayce, she attempts to move his thoughts elsewhere from thinking about what is wrong with him.

Viktors perception of the world is fundamentally changed, this is already pretty isolating but now he has a mind buddy! He's Not alone anymore, there's someone who talks to him, who cares about him, who he can share ideas with,

someone who loves him.

I'm going to concede, I do think their relationship has a romantic undertone, if for nothing else it's because viktors perception of sky is pretty heavily defined by her love letters to him.

Regardless of your reading (how much do you think he reciprocates that), it is giving him the company he wished for.

Why is that bad?

It's because it keeps him docile, and so far up his own 4ss that he doesn't realise how messed up what he is actually doing is. He is stuck with his own regurgitated thoughts.

The only thing he ever gets is reassurance that what he is doing is in fact good, he doesn't have an outside perspective on what's happening with him or around him.

He doesn't have the head space to self reflect cuz something always chimes in, always keeps him thinking, solving problems, solving puzzles.

We never once saw him actively trying to talk to any of his followers, the only people who he does are not affected by him, and come to him directly, he didn't even bother seeking out Jayce himself.

The only way he communicates with them is when he wants to do his creepy puppet thing and if the only thing left in his followers head is gratitude towards him and he never examines what it did to them as people, no wonder he doesn't notice a thing.

He just unquestionably spreads the core's influence.

No wonder the first awful idea anyone gave him in who knows how long that isn't his own stuck with him.

He always had a tendency to get sucked into his work and dont bother with people (ironically that is one of the reasons sky got dusted) and don't bother with anything else, and now the conditions are orchestrated for this to basically keep him in his own head.

He doesn't really care about his followers either, he watched one of them get smashed and didn't give a damn.

He doesn't care for them as people, they are more akin to problems he can solve and move on. He was barely even bothered about Jayce's condition, probably assuming he will come to him and he can fix him right away.

We can see this in his visions of how he conceptualizes himself, he looks very human, and yet he got these unsettling yellow eyes. He is blind to the ways he changed, just look at how he acts in them.

At first glance he appears a lot more emotive and it also tells us that he is fairly enjoying himself and his new perception of the world but also the main thing we see of him is his endless curiosity about things, not his empathy towards them.

He is well meaning of course, but he doesn't/cant reflect enough to see what he is really doing. Namely taking away the things he saw in these people, their dreams.

And he constantly has problems to solve, we saw how many people went to him, he always has something to think about, and he always has someone to talk to about it without needing to waste precious time on seeking out a second opinion.

In s1 he barely reacted to the beginning of a civil war going around him, now people depend on him and in the middle of a civil war he doesn't have any way of protecting these people.

He barely gives a damn about him slowly deteriorating. He doesn't live in reality anymore. He cannot see the forest for the trees. (though he might have had some plans we don't know of, since Salo was gathering materials for him.)

And his guilt just amplifies this.

From s1 one of his strongest traits was how much he believed if he gets the right tools, and the opportunity, he can help people.

“Do you think my life ambition is to be an assistant?”

“If you are going to change the world don't ask for permission.”

“All I did was believe in myself.”

This is what skys death puts into question.

This is why he almost jumped afterwards, this fundamental belief in himself was put into question. He got the chance to do what he wanted and someone died.

This is where his guilt comes into play, he isn't making his own dream a reality, we saw that what he really wanted is to give people tools that they can use to create, but that's not what he is doing.

He is doing what he believes Skye's dream was.

It doesn't even look like he invents things anymore, he just mostly uses his powers and studies botanics. (tho we saw Salo steal some stuff for him so he might have some plans that we don't know yet?)

This is even the context he brought her up to jayce: she had such dreams.

From her notes we can assume she hoped to help make a zaun that is cleaner and more connected to nature.

This is the reason why he is so receptive to skyes positive affirmation, its because in his head he is correcting his wrong, her affirmation and forgiveness gave him back the belief that he can still do good.

Now he has the right tools and the opportunity to do it, so he won't fail again.

He is literally wearing her symbol on his clothes.

He is doing this out of some kind of repentance for his sins.

So the way he sees it: he is helping these people, who on they own free will just happen to stay here cuz its nice and he conveniently can puppet them if needed, he doesn't question that cuz he never bothers to talk to them and skys happy and she talks to him so why bother when no one sees the world like he does.

What he doesn't realise is that he is pretty much meant to die there.

There's a reason why his palace was builded here, he literally got told to build it there. It was there so he could die and cocoon himself again.

When he first saw jayce and encountered the singularity, he was literally describing himself.

“self annihilating and replicating” That's him, this entity is connected to him, he is meant to die and be reborn over and over again. He might not completely embody it yet, but he is a product of it. (and he will probably gonna try to harness it, that's what the beginning of ep 6 set up.)

I don't think he expected jayce to shoot him, when he saw what he was going to do he looked pretty shocked, but he was intentionally kept docile by the core basically guaranteeing that even actually he will die out.

And then he had the audacity to conclude it must have happened cuz people just suck.

He tried nothing to prevent this and he is already out of options.

To his defense he was probably really lost in the sauce at this point.

This is also why he was making his following, he was supposed to draw power from them after he dies so he can be reborn again.

This also means that singed and ambessa are probably interfering with this process.

It would explain why he looks so wrong in the poster.

In conclusion, the core keeps Viktor in a mind state where he is docile enough not to question what's happening around him using his already existing flaws against him in order to spread itself.

One last thing I would like to add is that I don't think this will be his final transformation, I believe the final one will either happen at the top of the hex gate or at the bottom of it.

[venomwrites]

The second time CaitVi makes love

Warning: Spoilers for everything.

She stops responding to Vi. 

Every time she hears the name the voice fades into her sister screaming. One of the fancy doctors who come to examine her call it a trauma response. He says things like time and tries to hand her a bottle of white pills which she checks into the fireplace. It floods the room with acidic smoke that sets off one of the fancy alarms hidden everywhere. She can’t believe they were going to make her swallow those. 

Pilties can be so fucking weird. 

Everyone around her calls her Violet seamlessly. Thankfully they drop the ‘Miss’ just as quickly as the ‘Vi’. She’s not sure who she is anymore but ‘Miss Violet’ sounds like a cartoon character. Like one of the fancy ladies that come by in the first few days with armfuls of flowers and wish Caitlyn—and only Caitlyn—a speedy recovery. She hears one of them talk about how brave she is to have fought so many monsters. 

She doesn’t listen after that. 

When you stop using a muscle it atrophies. She blows out some part of her throat on that ledge. The less fancy doctors who triage her say she shouldn’t try to talk. She doesn’t. She has nothing to say. She knows if she opens her mouth she’s going to tell them—no beg them—to take her back to the ledge. To let her go the same way they went. Her entire life has been about getting back her family. She came so fucking close. All she had to do was fall with them and she couldn’t even manage that. 

“Good morning, Violet.” 

Caitlyn’s voice is soft when it pulls her. Everything, every fucking thing she’s willing to do, Caitlyn gets done. It makes her head spin. Care has always been a matter of money and resources. Usually when there are none. But Caitlyn doesn’t care. She would think it was because of money, but then she remembers this is the same woman who traded her one weapon for a potion to save her life. The money helps but she’s pretty sure this is just Caitlyn. 

Caitlyn’s a shadow in her peripheral for a long time. She’s so patient, so anticipatory, she can see why she’s a sniper. Caitlyn brings doctors to the house to examine whatever part of her she’ll allow. None of them push her to do anything. If they aren’t there one day, they are back the next and the day after. Until she pulls her shit together enough to let them poke at her shoulder or press a ball into her mangled fingers to build strength. 

She doesn’t know what that strength is for. 

She doesn’t know what’s changed today. But when Caitlyn greets her in the morning she manages to look up. Surprise makes Caitlyn’s eyes go wide. Or the eye she can see anyway. The corners her lips curl up but one looks normal. The other doesn’t go up as far. Before she can stop herself she’s on her feet. Caitlyn’s smile falls as she quickly steps forward as though to help and then stops herself. When she thinks about it, she can’t remember the last time anyone who wasn’t a doctor touched her. 

“You’re hurt,” she blurts out. 

Caitlyn’s stares at her in shock. Tears flood the eye she can see. Quickly Caitlyn turns around and mumbles something to herself. Some instruction she’s been given by one of the fancy doctors. They hover around here enough, though she never bothers with what they do when she ignores them long enough to get them to leave. 

“Yes,” Caitlyn says, plastering on a fake ass smile, “but I’m better now.”

“Liar,” she says and it really does fucking hurt to talk, “your eye.” 

“Gone,” Caitlyn says simply. Like she didn’t loose a fucking eye. How long did that take? It occurs to her that she has no idea what day it is. How long has it been since they fell? “I’m fine,” she says, “really. Would you like some tea?” 

When she first dragged Caitlyn home and tea was produced, she had no idea it was the solution to everything to the Kirammans. It appears after every doctors appointment, every nightmare. She can barely go to the bathroom without someone shoving a cup under her nose. 

She likes the dark ones the best. Even though sometimes they make her feel like crying. They smell like a fancier version of what Vander would drink on late nights. Fancier and stronger. Strong enough to make her shove her nose in the cup and inhale. Maybe if she breathes in hard enough she can will him back. 

The cup Caitlyn shoves at her isn’t that. It’s sharper and green. Caitlyn stares at her so she takes a sip. It’s familiar but she can’t place how. Caitlyn must have given it to her before. There’s something sweet in it that feels so good on her throat. She could care less about the taste when it seems to coat her throat like that. 

“Thanks,” she tries out and the word sounds something like her. Caitlyn inclines her head and lets out a shaky breath, “how long?”

“Four months,” Caitlyn says. 

It’s been four months. She went seven years without seeing her sister. Seven fucking years. But she had hope. There was a chance. It’s been four months and she will never see her again. Her stomach churns at the thought. Caitlyn is immediately there, one hand reaching for the fancy ottoman in front of her. Like she has no idea where it is even though this is her fucking house. 

“Was there—a memorial?” She asks. Did she miss it? 

“A public one,” Caitlyn says, “for the fallen. We thought we could do something for them when you’re ready.” 

Of course they weren’t included. Jinx helped but they didn’t save the world. And that thing that used to be Vander didn’t save anyone. But Jinx saved her. She sacrificed herself so she could live. She knows that counts for nothing compared to all the heroes out there, but the unfairness of it makes her chest twist. Caitlyn’s hand hovers for a moment before it settles on her shoulder. 

“Ekko took what he could find back,” Caitlyn continues, “he said to let him know when you were ready.” 

She’s never going to be ready. 

They are already on the wall. She is too. All five of them clustered together like it should be. But now they are gone and she is sitting here still breathing. Unable to even die right. She thought she was used to loneliness. She thought she even knew what it was to be hopeless. All of those were just light versions of the yawning hole in her chest. The only grounding thing is Caitlyn’s hand on her shoulder. 

Caitlyn is still here. 

She reaches out and Caitlyn immediately covers her hand, bringing it to her cheek. Caitlyn’s skin is smooth and warm and wet. Caintlyn’s been crying. She forces herself to take in the shadow under her eyes, the hollowness of her cheek. Caitlyn’s been worried and not taking care of herself. She wonders if it’s been worry about her. Given how relieved she looks, she thinks it might have been. 

“Sorry,” she says.

“Don’t apologize,” Caitlyn says, “for anything. Violet I’m so sorry.”

The words burn but she’s not a coward. Not in this moment. She cups the back of Caitlyn’s neck. Caitlyn leans forward and she tries to be gentle when she rests her forehead against hers. Caitlyn leans into the touch and lets out a shuddering breath. 

She was going to roll. Sister’s sacrifice be damned. She was. 

But Caitlyn. 

Caitlyn. 

“I couldn’t—“ she forces out.

“I know,” Caitlyn says, “Vi—“

The name slips out and burns across her skin. But it’s not her sister screaming it. It’s Caitlyn. Screaming and begging her to take her hand. To come back to her. To please, please come back. It would be so easy to roll over and fall. But she’s never done anything easy. So she lurches to her feet and staggers towards the sound of Caitlyn screaming. Their hands lock and Caitlyn pulls her back with a pained yell, right before the metal gives. 

Now she’s in Caitlyn’s arms and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to reconcile that with wanting so badly to fall. 

“It hurts,” she forces out and Caitlyn makes a pained sound.

“I know,” she says. She does, “I know. It won’t always feel like this.” 

Caitlyn’s fingers dig into the base of her neck. When she matches Caitlyn’s next exhale, she realizes how tight they are. It’s several breaths before she can relax them at all. Four months. Four months and a lifetime more. She tells herself it’s another impossibly big goon. All she has to do is set her jaw and drive through. But driving through has always been for a purpose. If she’s strong enough, hits hard enough, she can get back to her family. 

But Caitlyn holds her there. 

And she lets her. 

She talks more, though not a lot. Most days she meets Caitlyn for all the meals. Some days they exist on tea and flat gold biscuits. One day the biscuits have chocolate on them. It’s creamier than any chocolate Vi has every tasted. She eats because if she doesn’t, they will get her nutrients through bags and tubes. But the chocolate explodes on her tongue and she reaches for another without thinking. 

“You’ve been holding out on me, Cupcake,” she says at Catilyn’s surprised face. 

“I have not!” Caitlyn objects, “I didn’t know you liked them.” 

It’s the most normal she’s felt in months. She can’t say she belongs here, but it feels damn close with Caitlyn looking indignant over her manners. The thought of doing something just to make her blush more crosses her mind. And for a moment, everything seems alright. Her mind doesn’t drag to the ledge immediately. To her sister staring up at her as she knocks out the gem. As she falls. 

Caitlyn’s thumb against her lip rips her attention back to the present. 

Their contact has been more frequent. To the point where stretches without brushing against Caitlyn’s hands or shoulders make her fingers twitch. But there’s been no contact like this. It catches her off guard and it seems to do the same with Caitlyn. Her eyes widen in surprise but when Caitlyn goes to pull he hand back, she catches her wrist and holds her hand there. Caitlyn doesn’t pull back.

She brushes her lips against Caitlyn’s hand. 

Caitlyn lets out a shuddering breath that stirs something in her. She tastes the chocolate from her lip that decorates Caitlyn’s thumb. Caitlyn’s fingers curl against her cheek, blunt nails against her skin. She remembers them digging into her back, clutching at her hair, clutching at her hand and screaming not to let go. To stay, stay with her. The screaming echoing in her ears makes her try to turn away but Caitlyn is suddenly on the same chair, her other hand on her cheek. 

“I keep hearing them,” she confesses, “I keep hearing you,” Caitlyn’s thumbs brush over her cheekbones, “I keep choosing--“ she forces her eyes open to look at Caitlyn, “it’s always you.” 

She doesn’t understand. All she ever wanted fell down that shaft. And every time, every time she thinks of Caitlyn. Thinks of all the blue haired soldiers she pulled off the field who made her heart seize. The ones who weren’t her but could have been. She thinks of how it would feel for Caitlyn to find her body at the bottom of the shaft. She thinks of the scream that always catches in her throat when Powder says she’s gone. She fell down a well. 

So she lets the scream out and stays on the ledge. 

“I don’t want to fall.”

“I won’t let you,” Caitlyn swears, her fingers sliding around her ears, cupping the back of her skull, “I won’t,” she says in the voice that moves mountains, “stay with me.” 

She nods against Caitlyn’s forehead. She is trying. Gods is she trying. Caitlyn is asking her to fight. Her partner is asking her to fight. Her will feels as atrophied as her muscles but she shoves at it with everything she can. She focuses on Caitlyn. Not the screaming one who pulls  her back. The one in front of her who has their foreheads pressed together so tightly she can feel the strap of her eyepatch digging into her skin. Who has given her the one thing she’s never had. A soft landing. 

She tastes tears on Caitlyn’s lips when she crushes their mouths together. Caitlyn gasps around her lips and she pulls the same breath into her lungs. It feels like the first breath she’s taken since the ledge. Maybe since the last time she kissed her. Caitlyn tries to follow but it’s only a moment before her lips turn greedy against hers. Something in her sings at Caitlyn doing something for herself after months. 

“Here,” she mutters into her skin. 

“Yes,” Caitlyn breathes. 

Her fingers hesitate at the patch straps. Caitlyn presses her fingers to it in silent permission, her other eye still closed. She guides it off carefully. There’s no eye left. Gold lines fan out around the skin. She brushes a finger against them and Caitlyn’s breath catches, her hips jerking. Silco’s mismatched eyes flutter though the back of her mind and she shoves the thought away. Instead she brushes her lips against the gold on Caitlyn’s skin.

“Vi,” Caitlyn moans her nickname into her ear and the thaw in her chest burns hotter. 

“Again,” she whispers against Caitlyn’s neck, half plea half demand. 

“Vi,” she repeats, “Vi, please.”

It feels like coming home. When Caitlyn’s under her like this, everything ceases to exist. Her world narrows until the only thing in it is the woman in front of her. Or underneath her. Nothing else matters. Only Caitlyn. It caries like a current. Like a promise. Everything has changed so much. She has changed. But that feeling still lives in her chest. Buried, frozen, but it is there. Caitlyn drags it to the surface with every sweep of her fingers and gasp of her name. She doesn’t know what this is, if this is love. If this has a name. 

She just knows right now it’s the only thing that makes sense. 

Later she inspects the new marks that litter Caitlyn’s body. The narrow line on her gut is the one that stands out. The others are mostly surgical but this one, this one is from a lethal shot. Someone wanted her to die slowly and painfully. Caitlyn has her own ledge. They all do. Caitlyn meets her questioning look as she thumbs the scar. 

“This before or after the eye?”

“Before,” Caitlyn says, “the eye was a—a calculated move.”

“It’s your fucking eye,” she points out. There’s a note of pride in Caitlyn’s voice. The kind of pride that comes with winning a battle, “that’s pretty badass, Cupcake,” she says. 

“I have a prosthetic,” Caitlyn says. She is still focusing on the gut wound, “if this makes you uncomfortable—“

“Why would it do that?” Caitlyn shrugs, “who said it makes them uncomfortable,” she asks, looking around as though the offending party might be in the room with them. 

“No-one,” Caitlyn assures her, pushing her fingers through her hair, “but you—“

“I don’t care,” she says. Caitlyn tilts her head, “I don’t fucking care,” she repeats, emphasizing the words like she did in the cell. She touches the gold lines, “what about these?”

“I needed to find you,” Caitlyn says. Like that makes sense. She blows out a breath and pushes herself up to her elbow, “I had Mel stop the bleeding.” 

When Caitlyn parts her eyelid the socket is laced with gold. She vaguely remembers the gold dressed counselor. Now with a lot more gold on her. She was there on the ledge. There during the fight. Gold light spills from her hands into a thousand different shapes. Caitlyn had her put that light in her eye. All so she could get to her. Caitlyn’s gives her a puzzled look. It’s been so long since she smiled but she feels her lips tug. 

“So you went from one tiny leg scar to getting your wounds magically cauterized to find me?” She says. 

Even though she’s naked under her, now Caitlyn goes cherry red. 

“Oh—“ Caitlyn starts. 

“That’s hot, Cupcake,” she cuts in. 

Caitlyn looks up at her and the burning thaw is back. It’s hot and it’s humbling. She’s spent her whole life chasing. Begging. Desperate for the ghosts to stay so things can go back to when they made sense. But everything keeps falling away. Except, except Caitlyn. Caitlyn shoves gold in her wounds and charges up stairs when she shouldn’t be walking. She’s seen Caitlyn climb. She sucked at it when she had two eyes. Several times she stopped and went pale at the manageable height. But none of that stopped her. She didn’t even know she was alive and Caitlyn did all of that on the chance she might be. 

“I think I was waiting for you,” she tries. Caitlyn drags her fingers through her hair. It feels nice, “no I was, I kept thinking of you finding me.”

“Thank you for waiting,” Caitlyn says. 

She thinks of the months it’s been. Of Caitlyn’s endless patience. Pulling her back time and time again. She thinks of the cell and Caitlyn’s smile. Not all the guards were needed back then but Caitlyn sent them away. For her. She’s always been the one to fight. It’s who she is. But for the first time it feels like she hasn’t been fighting alone. Like if her strength fails, the entire world isn’t going to fall away. 

For the first time, there’s someone to pick up the slack in the way she needs. 

“Can you get a message Ekko later?” She asks. Caitlyn’s fingers pause.

“Yes,” Caitlyn says, “it’s alright if you’re not ready.“

“I’m never going to be ready,” she admits, “but I need to,” she looks up at Caitlyn’s eye, “will you come with me?”

She knows it’s an ask. Despite the fragile whatever between them, Caitlyn spent so much time hunting her. But Jinx’s words echo in her ears. Be happy. Don’t worry about me. Even with everything her mind she saw that clearly. Salt stings her eyes. Even as she turns into Caitlyn’s skin and tries to ground herself, the gentle words echo in her head. 

Caitlyn’s warm pulls away momentarily. Only Caitlyn’s hand on her head keeps her from protesting. Then Caitlyn is behind her, folding herself around her. She’s safe and warm and home. Caitlyn slots their bodies together until there’s no space between them, even as she curls up. Caitlyn follows and bands her arms around her. 

“Of course I’ll be with you,” she swears, “stay here with me, Vi.”

So she folds her arms over Caitlyns and laces their fingers together.

And again she chooses to stay. 

[theinheriteddutchess]

Why does bucky even think that letting her hear him have sex will do anything to improve situation does he think she's going to be jealous or intrigued by his stamina??

Her mom wanted to protect her😭😭

It's weird he's the beast and she's caged up😕 he's going at this all won't, but he's arrogant and hardened his heart. He needs to learn.

"His body looks like a work of art, and the lighting makes him almost look silvery. Frozen by the everlasting winter." I thought that sounded beautiful and dad it right in front of me.

… Okay who says he hasn't father's a shitload of bastards?! Maybe he's infertile… Maybe only she's can bear him an heir!

He he, her burn was good to his ego, he needs it.

Ok so his pull out game is strong (could still impregnate someone though dummy Bucky).

And he immediately transforms? Hmm why? because his wolf knows she needs comfort? Wait, he is in the cage? Suddenly? Okay how, magic?

If she's smelly he might not want to touch her 🙂‍↔️ and why is Steve so mean toom is he unfriending his people also magically, with his mood, like he did the lands. Disappointed in you Steven!

"“My name is Steve by the way,” curtly you nod. “Things aren’t always what they seem, we’re quite appreciative of you being here with us.” “It shows in your hospitality,” " 😂😂 exactly, what a turd.

So Wanda is her "adoptive" father's child, why dislikes him, but she now serves Bucky… Why? He's cruel and wanda doesn't seem to be so far. Can we really trust her though?

Why would Malik or her mother even agree to not even touch though married? Was her mother only going with the man to save her child? (Oh and also you say her birth started the winner but I thought it was Bucky's doing?)

I now see that patch of grass as whatever's left of his heart😌

Good job Bucky, you wooed her, we've made it, story is over *claps sarcastically slow" what a dick

And those people laughing at her for falling, no one's nice there, she's supposed to be their queen and savior right, fuck them.

The fact he has to make clear there are no fluids on the nightgowns🤦🏻‍♀️ you whore

Oooh… Well honey, you're around Bucky now, maybe you were frozen too until the right moment🤭…. Or she's simply underweight, maybe I need to stop seeing signs everywhere😂

I'm more intrigued then ever!!

Trying to Save Me, Part 2

Summary: What is Bucky hiding?

Pairings: Dark King!Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit detailing of living out in the wild, dark!Bucky, taunting, continued feeling of ownership, touching over the clothes without consent, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.1K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You groan, trying to straighten your back up a bit more. There is nothing comfortable about this — this cage. He is a monster. Humiliated you. Inspected you, in front of people. And then if that wasn’t enough, he threw you in this cage right outside his sleeping quarters. Although, he hadn’t been doing much sleeping. You didn’t see anyone go in his room, so you’re led to believe they sat there, and waited. Waited on him.

Waited on some vile human to go into that room, and into his bed, while they serviced him. Periodically throughout the night the grunts, slaps, screams, moans, and gods know what else drifted under his door. You have heard people carry on and have sex many times. In a world where you have been a nomad, and lived in poorly insulated villages, it just went with the territory. But this is different.

No, you aren’t jealous. But — if you are destined to be with him, how can he be so cruel as to make you listen as he beds other women? All night long. A line of whores. Concubines. All for him. You would not be given the same opportunity. You were looked at as his incubator. You couldn’t be sullied with another man’s cock or their seed. Only the king can have that part of you.

Oh great, the grand finale commences, and you try and remove yourself from here. All your time alone, running away had all been in vain. You promised to stay away from the castle, and then was led directly to the beast within. You didn’t know the reason why you had to stay away then, but judging on the brute’s words to you, you could guess some of it. Your mom wanted more of a choice for you. Not one that you were forced into.

You’d rather hear the exact prophecy, and how you fit into it before you let this whirlwind suck you up. It would be easy to go into despair here. Easy to think that all you were meant for is one let him take you, and fill you up. You were in a fucking cage wearing a metal mask, and only seem to be here for his every tortured whim. His pet. He’s disgusting. He has you caged up like an animal. Nothing more than a common beast.

His door creaks open, and you scurry towards the back of the cage. Trying to hide in the shadows, but the pig knows you're in here. Where else is there for you to go? The early morning light catches on his pale white skin, and shines over his ample body. If he wasn’t such a foul human, he’d almost be beautiful. As naked as the day he was born, and carved by the cruel gods. His body looks like a work of art, and the lighting makes him almost look silvery. Frozen by the everlasting winter.

He takes tentative steps closer, watching as your eyes dip below his waist, and you stare at his rock hard length. How the hell did someone have that much energy? He had already finished, and spilled his seed on or in whatever whores he had in there, and now he’s swollen again. Bucky smirks at you as he turns to the side, giving you a different angle to show just how massive he was, but you turn away, pointing your head up into the air. You wouldn’t let him see you break.

“Like what you see?”

“A small little prick?” You didn’t care if he interpreted that as himself or his cock. The only large thing you saw was his gigantic ego.

“I may be a prick, but you and I both know there’s nothing little about me. You think your sweet little cunt can handle me?” You want to hurl. It isn’t uncommon for women in this world to just be with a man so she had a certain level of living. Being with the king would give you a rich life, but it wouldn’t be good.

“You have a sharp little tongue for a stupid girl that still ended up on my web. I would devour you, Lumi,” you roll your eyes over to him, and he bends at the knees, squatting. Both his hands are on your cage and you glare at him. “You don’t know your words, little one? You were a bastard in the snow. Lumi is perfect for you.”

“I have a name.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“No,” names held power. You didn’t have much left, but you wouldn’t give him this. Whatever you had left to keep from him, you would. He didn’t need to know all your secrets.

“Lumi it is then, winter wolf,” you keep your face neutral, trying not to stare at him wrapping his hand around his cock. He gives the rod a long slow stroke, while watching you intently. “You really aren’t looking. I don’t spill in them, that’ll be left just for you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Maybe not now, but you will,” he stands quickly. Going down the hall. Completely naked, and you hear him chuckle. Moments later three women come out of his bedroom looking ragged, but satiated. You didn’t understand what the big deal with sex was. All it meant was the possibility you could bring a child into this cold world. Bucky came out here just to annoy you. He didn’t need anything, he just wanted you to see him fully naked. You wouldn’t break easily, if at all.

You roll your eyes as he starts moaning again. There was still at least one woman in there, and he puts on a show for you. He’s vocal. More vocal than most men that try and stifle their sounds. Bucky left everything on full display. If he is trying to make you jealous, it isn't working. It pisses you off.

He goes harder and faster than he had most of the night. Could hear his skin slapping on hers. Pounding in her. Ruthless. Shameless. And then he ends with the most put on sound from the previous ones. And just as soon as it started, it ends. She even walks of the bedroom. Staring at you trapped in front of him before she wipes under her eyes, and leaves you be.

Relaxing your back, you slump down into the cage. Maybe now that they are gone, you could get some sleep. You didn’t have to hear all those cries of painful pleasure. You wouldn’t have to hear Bucky’s grunts, and — you couldn’t think about some of those sounds. The way they had made you feel. And the questions you had rushing through your mind.

Settling back, you get a lick to your hand, and you jerk it away. Turning to peer at that stupid mutt with his silvery eyes, “You traitor. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here,” the beast wines as he lays on his belly. Inching his body closer to nudge his nose on you.

“How do you even get in here?” Stupid animal almost looks apologetic, staring at you with his human-like eyes. “You led me to my prison. I’m to be a broodmare for an animal. Eww,” you wipe your hands on your jeans after the wolf sneezes on you. “That’s rude, ya know?”

Sighing, you finally give him a few head scratches, and he gives his approval with low rumbling growls. You don’t know where this beast came from, or what his interest in you is. “Get out of here. Get!” You jump to your feet, glowering at the man that brought you to this hellscape. You hold a hand over the wolf’s head, and he bares his teeth to the blonde man, growling.

“We’ll, aren’t you two just cute? What are you going to do about this, girly?” His mouth turns up into an evil sneer. “You’re in a physical cage.”

“Obviously, you psycho. What does that even mean?” He snaps his fingers, and motions his head to the side. The wolf’s growls soften, but he starts to leave your cage, keeping his eyes on blondie. Getting to a different hallway of the castle, he runs off, leaving you only with him. “You reek.”

“The accommodations in my cage didn’t really allow me to bathe.”

“I suppose your stench repelled most men away from you out there, hmm?” You didn’t have to answer his questions. It’s not like baths were readily available out there. Not when you’re a loner. He goes towards the lock of the cage, and you’re scrambling back into a corner like a scared mouse again. “What is wrong with you?”

“Don’t touch me, I’ll tell your king!”

“Princess, I have no plans of touching you. However, I am taking you to Wanda. She’s going to do something about your smell. You’ll have dinner with the king tonight, and he doesn't particularly care for his future queen to look and smell like a wildling. I promise you no harm will come to you. Unless you choose not to bathe; the king will be furious about you joining his court looking and smelling like you do. Remember last night? Having yourself so exposed? He’ll do that and more. Come now.”

He doesn’t offer you a hand, or any assistance, just stands with the door to your cage open. “I’m not a babysitter,” huffing, you walk towards him, “My god, what is that you reek of?”

You scowl as you walk past him, “Your incredible accommodations here. I was in the dungeon with a wolf keeping me warm, and then I was in the cage. Even though I’m a wildling, I know how to keep myself clean.”

“Why?” If it wasn’t for his expression, you’d think he was making fun of you again, but there’s a sense of sincerity. “I mean…”

“Don’t sound so apologetic, soldier, you’ve told me I smelled bad in five different ways. While you’d think a smell would repulse a man, if they’re hard up for a woman, it won’t stop them,” the man looks down at the floor as you walk, “Not to mention I hunted for my food, if I smelled, the animals would know I was coming,” the two of you walk in silence. The castle laid out nearly like a maze, or maybe it’s because you’re used to the open. Walls and hallways confused you.

“My name is Steve by the way,” curtly you nod. “Things aren’t always what they seem, we’re quite appreciative of you being here with us.”

“It shows in your hospitality,” he lets out the most unattractive snort you could ever imagine. “If you want me to believe you’re appreciative here, you have an odd way of showing it.”

“Let me ask you this,” he stops just before a grand door that you could only assume is where Wanda will be cleaning you, and making you presentable to the king. “If you were to just sleep in the king’s bed, would you flee?”

“I’d rather gnaw my own arm off than lay next to him.”

“So maybe our hospitality is your fault, and not ours,” he opens the door, and sure enough a woman with beautiful red hair is mulling about preparing a tub for you. Of all the audacity. That it’s your fault that they have treated you like a prisoner. Are you supposed to be grateful for being dragged here, bound, thrown in a dungeon with this fucking mask, and then forced on your knees while everyone stared at your body?

“And maybe it’s your pompous king’s fault for exposing my cunt to everyone,” Wanda gasps, dramatically throwing her hand over her mouth. “And you, you dragged me in here. I have been taught to fear the heart of the kingdoms, and to stay away from your king, and you wonder why I’m sour?”

“Kingdom. The fall of your father was when they were combined. There are no kingdoms anymore, and because of prophecy, we’re in an eternal winter. Only until,” he raises his hand, but Wanda shouts his name. “I’ll be just outside the door to collect you when you’re finished.”

You’re never going to be left alone again. It’s something you just know in your gut that the king will have you fully watched. He’d probably be mounting you like an animal while these people watched. To him you were nothing more than a way to break the curse and give him sons.

“We’re not here to harm you,” the red headed woman says walking up to you. She doesn’t make comments about your scent, just starts undoing your clothes. “I’m here to bathe you,” she responds as you jerk away.

“I am capable of doing that myself,” she smiles. It’s calming, and gentle, and makes you extremely uncomfortable and confused. You didn’t have kindness in this place. You had fear and embarrassment.

“You are the future queen, the one that will take this infernal winter away from us,” everyone keeps saying this, and you are but a normal human. “You can undress yourself if it’ll make you feel better. It’s just us in here. The tub is full of hot water, it’ll feel nice.”

Wanda steps away from you, walking over to a chair, while you turn your back on her, and remove your wildings clothes. There is nothing ladylike about these clothes, especially not now. Trousers and shirts would be a thing of the past, if you were to become the queen, even though you didn’t want to. You wouldn’t give up trying to escape.

“What exactly is this prophecy?” Turning around, you place your arms around your body to walk to the tub. Out there, you weren’t given such luxuries as a bath. Slipping into the water, you sink into the warmth, sighing at just how amazing it feels. Heat wraps around your soreness, and for the first time, you actually feel warm. The chill to your core evaporated.

“The simplified version is the princess from the west, and the prince from the mountains will join together.”

“That doesn’t explain the winter.”

She hums a low tune, one you recognize that your mother sang to you, and your eyes start to close. Being in here is so much better than your cage. “Did you know the day you were born was the day that the snow started?”

You had heard that before. “You also know that the man that paraded around as the king wasn’t your father and he also wasn’t the king?”

Turning around, you glare at her, “Malik was my father. He was the king, not Jarrod. I don’t know who told that vicious lie,” even as the words exit your mouth, you don’t fully believe them. Wanda sighs again, beginning that same song. “I didn’t know they knew that song in the mountains.”

“They don’t,” still gazing at her, you look up and down her body. “You’re staring at one of Malik’s many bastards. He was a pig of a king, it’s why so many of us fled to the mountain. He stole the throne from your real father. Made people believe he was the king in your father’s absence. And when Jarrod returned, he found his betrothed married to him. He told Malik to keep the throne, and the wife as long as he didn’t touch her. He could fuck whatever woman he wanted as long as he didn’t touch her. He failed of course, and some would believe that you belonged to him. Except those feline-like eyes. The eyes of Jarrod.”

You turn back and stare blankly at the hot water. Your eyes are the only reason you had ever doubted your lineage. Malik could play he loved your mother, but you often thought it was for his people to believe it. “So Jarrod remained by the king’s side for what? Why not take my mother away?”

“I assumed it was because he thought he was no longer king, and having a daughter wouldn’t start our nightmare of a winter. Clearly he thought wrong because here we are, and there you are getting cleaned up to bow before your king, and future husband,” she can’t see your face, but you roll your eyes. You are a prisoner. A joke. “Would you like the mask removed?”

“I was told that the mask keeps others from touching me.”

“There’s other ways that the king can mark you as his,” that sounds repulsive.

“Walking around with a swollen belly?” Wanda’s laugh is almost evil, and you turn back around to her. “What?”

“Pregnancy takes too long. No, if you’re being difficult even with a pregnancy he’ll make you wear the mask. You could have another man’s baby in your belly. Marriage wouldn’t be a strong enough bond, your mother was sleeping with Jarrod while married to Malik.”

“I don’t want to know. Sounds like some cruel backwards way of claiming a woman for the mountain people.”

She shrugs, and you know it’s true. An outward mark that would make you Bucky’s, so no one would touch you. And yet, she’s missing a mark, “Where’s your claim?”

“I’m not the one that will be mated to the White Wolf,” you sit up straighter in the tub, forgetting your modesty as you look over her, “What?”

“The white wolf?”

“It’s the king’s nickname. We are mountain people, as you say. His crest is a white wolf. They’re uncommon, but every once in a blue moon they happen. The white wolf is respected in the mountains, and not to be hunted, lest you become the prey. Here,” she stands, and walks towards you. Her hands go around your head, and with a few clicks, she removes the mask from your face, and you moan. Finally getting to look at the damned mask; a wolf.

“There’s worse things than your king.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“The winter is cruel, even more so when you feel the cold in your heart,” someone beats on the door, and you hear Steve clear his throat. “It’s time to get dressed, princess. And time that you accept that Jarrod was your father,” you let modesty disappear as you stand up. Letting Wanda assist you out of the bath, and dry you off. You might not like it here, but you could get used to baths.

She carefully makes you slip into skirt upon skirt. Dressing you up like a doll. You haven’t seen dresses this fine your entire life. Outside of the mountain city, you just survived. Clothing such as this is frivolous. She pulls a dress of fine silk over your head before reaching for a necklace. She wraps the golden chain around your neck before slipping a wicked looking point through the hole. “There. Now, let me do something about your hair.”

She walks you over to a chair, forcing you to stare at your reflection as she pulls and tugs your hair into place. You look ridiculous. “Am I to be nothing more than his frilly doll?”

“What more are you supposed to be?” His equal. You keep your mouth closed because you doubt she’s going to see things your way. In this world you are the savior, but most importantly, you are his.

“And here I am, and still, it’s winter,” Wanda bows as she walks to the door, holding it open for you, and Steve’s eyes wander over her body, but she gives him a coy smile in return. She didn’t care.

Steve motions for you to follow him. Like you have any choice in the matter. “I see you traded the mask for the — necklace. Bucky will much rather look over your face than that creepy thing,” Bucky was the one that ordered you to wear it. “There are people who don’t want Bucky to come into his true — potential.”

The way he speaks, careful with his words. Withholding information, or lying all together. You’re in the waiting part of the hunt. Listen, pay attention, and know your surroundings. “The castle is set up this way to distort people. There’s been people who wander around for hours and never find where they’re going. You having someone with you isn’t just to keep you from escaping, it’s to keep you from being lost.”

There’s so many twists and turning hallways, but there has to be a pattern to it. There has to be a way that people didn’t go insane trying to find their way around, but insanity to you is already happening. Your situation is looking more and more dire. “There’s hallways that lead to nowhere, and doors that open up into a hole. I suggest you not walk too quickly through a door.”

To prove his point, he opens one, and there’s a black pit of nothingness. “Each has varying degrees of depth. But, even the smaller drops will kill you. There’s a reason why the people of the mountain are feared, just getting in the castle doesn’t guarantee you’ll find and overtake the king. It guarantees your demise.”

“You’re so sure of yourself.”

Steve stops beside an opening, and you gasp. Eyes wide as you take the greenery in. “Your father, Jarrod, is the only one that made it in the castle and out of the castle. He was let go, but bore an evil curse to be released. And that’s why we’re here.”

You can’t take your eyes off this place. You’ve never seen this. “So I must bear the weight of what someone else has done, and I wasn’t even born.”

He leans down beside you, his mouth right at your ear, “He wasn’t born either,” turning, you scowl at him. Did he want you to feel sorry for Bucky? Absurd. He wasn’t a prisoner. “He’s just as stuck as you are.”

“How so?”

“You don’t know what it’s like to rule a kingdom. But how far would you go to protect your people?” You didn’t have people.

“He’s trapped me in a castle maze, and exposed me to his court.”

“There’s things you just don’t understand,” rolling your eyes, you start to pull up your skirts, and begin to crawl through the window. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Is it glamoured and I’ll fall to my death?” You pause, looking at him, and he shakes his head no, “I’ve never seen grass before. I want to touch it.”

“You can. With the king. It’s sacred, and only for him and who he invites. You could become poisoned for touching it without his permission.”

“Could?” He shrugs. He’s bluffing. Nothing is going to happen. But then you look again, what if he isn’t lying? What if something worse happens? Everything is untouched. It’s freely open for whoever walks by, and it’s pristine. “Has Bucky?”

“No, the king has not. It’s sacred. Shall we?” Releasing a guffaw, you follow him. More winding hallways, and silence. Having no choice but to trust him completely. “You really know nothing?”

“My parents — Malik, and my mother, told me to stay away from the castle. To keep moving, don’t stay in one location long, don’t fall in love, don’t let a man touch me because men only bring you problems. What else is there to know?” You’re met with silence again. Like the castle, everything is a riddle. Wanda gave more information than most. “Earlier when you knocked on the door, were you interrupting me and Wanda?”

“Why would I do that?” This is the way it’ll be; questions met with a question. You’d rather be quiet and observe the castle, and the people within. “Eventually you get used to it here. The paths.”

“Does the kingdom live here?”

“Some moved here once the snow started to fall and kept growing. Some remain out in the mountains, wild and building cities within. This was the safest place though. Most won’t venture out into the winter. There’s very little daylight, and night time here is cruel,” you would know. You spent many years alone, and unable to sleep at night. Constantly looking over your shoulder, the animals were the least of your worries. “It’s amazing you survived.”

“Is that a compliment, soldier?”

“No. And my name is Steve.”

Just before dinner Steve came back to the twittering room of females you were in. They were obnoxious. Giggling and asking you about the king’s cock. You didn’t want that thing anywhere near you. You sit motionless while they work on their stupid little crafts of embroidery. Things like that seem so pointless when the world outside was a frozen hell, and yet, they still remain fragile, and need a man to protect them.

You stayed in your same gown, surprisingly. You didn’t have to see Wanda again. “Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“That cage is quite uncomfortable,” he snorts, looking at you. “I’m sure with a sleeping gown, it’ll be unbearably cold.”

“You know what’s not uncomfortable and cold? The king’s bed,” your nose goes into the air so fast. Everyone pushed you into the bed with your king, and you knew absolutely fuck all about him, and he should immediately stick you with his prick?

“Enjoy your audience, princess,” the dining hall must be separate from the people that lived here. It is quite large, with tapestries and pennants of the coat of arms, but the table of people is small. Wanda sat on the other end from where Steve leads you. Directly beside Bucky. You thought he may stand behind you, and instead Steve sits opposite of you.

“Lumi, come sit in my lap, princess,” Bucky’s voice is laced in poison. Nothing is ever that sweet. Always an ulterior motive. Always cunning and out to trick you.

“I’d rather not,” he leans forward, causing every eye at the table to turn towards you. His teeth gleam with an evil snarl, before his fingers tease at your necklace. Inching onto your skin before he too gently wraps his fingers around your neck, and then moves back to caressing the necklace.

“Please,” you hear a gasp. Not at all surprised that he didn’t have manners normally, and that one word shocked the dinner table.

“No,” his fingers wrap around your necklace, and he sneers. He twists the chain around his finger a few times, and you dare to turn away from him.

“I won’t ask again.”

“Then don’t,” he tightens his fingers, pulling the necklace taut up against your neck, and you choke. Your eyes fire to life, and you look down at the bauble before he yanks the metal chain. Completely cutting off air to your lungs, while Bucky pulls you into him, and forcing you onto his knee. A fucking leash! He is treating you like a common animal.

“You asshole!”

“Shut up, my pet. You want me to treat you like the animal, I’ll show you exactly what an animal you are, princess. You are mine, and what I say goes. I asked nicely to sit on my fucking lap, and if you don’t know how to respond in a well behaved manner, I’ll put you on your knees, and shove my cock so deep in your throat, until you shut up. Everyone will watch as you cockwarm me the rest of dinner. Now have I made myself clear?” You bore holes into his skull, wishing you had powers that could oblerdiate him. No wonder your parents wanted you away from the castle, and away from him. Spoiled brat.

“Do I make myself clear?” Still you don’t respond, but you don’t look away. Steve kicks your leg under the table, and you nod at Bucky. “With words.”

“You’ve made your point.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” It is humiliating, and worse, he’s reduced you to a plaything. No, not even that, his pet. Someone that had to be kept on a leash and paraded around. Everyone at the table gawks at you. They’re all bastards. People in the mountains are an odd bunch. They allowed this behavior for far too long.

“Why is it that you didn’t have to remain pure?” The king chuckles, holding up a leg of some animal up for you, and you try not to devour it, but it’s delectable. You’re so unladylike as you take bite after bite, barely chewing your food before taking another. You are starved.. How were they able to get such meat?

“Well, for one I wasn’t hiding in the forest, and running away from my duty. Did you ever think you were saving yourself just for me? All these years, and you remained loyal to a man you didn’t even know,” snorting, you look at him shaking your head. You didn’t even know about him. Instead of eating himself, he curiously watches you. You could swear he’s even counting how many times you chew before you reach for something else on the plate. He didn’t have one.

“What did you eat out there?” there’s a softness to his voice that confuses you, and you turn to meet his gaze. “You are nothing more than skin and bones. It wasn’t much.”

“Yeah, but I did it myself. I didn’t have servants that hunted, gathered, prepared, and served my food for me. You just learn to survive.”

“Why not learn to live?” Your piercing green eyes roll up to meet his silvery blue ones, and for once, he seems human. Not the foul animal that you first met. Chattering at the table is distant, muffled, and you watch his hand rise up your skirts. Unlike the many men that tried to touch you, his isn't calloused. They are boiling hot, however.

He drifts his hand higher. Higher more, and you gulp. Thankfully his hand is under the table, but you fear that someone will see. That they will watch him slowly claim every inch of your body. What his plans are, you’re unsure, so you keep eating. Gorging yourself in the delicious meal, and trying to ignore him. It’s clear he’s going to take whatever he wants.

“Why are you so hot, Lumi?” Don’t answer him. It might have something to do with his heated hands on your skin. Or the tingly you feel when he’s right at the apex of your thighs, but you’re too interested in the food. “I think you like me touching you just here,” his hand barely grazes over your core, and you jerk your head towards him, and glare. “I like your fight. Don’t forget that.”

You may glower at him, but the face he gives you in return is humored. A smile creeps on his face, and everything else in this room ceases to exist. It’s weird. You could see why women would throw themselves at him. He’s beautiful. But so was ice and snow, and it killed many.

“Your highness,” Bucky nods in the direction of some man, but his eyes still capture your own. You start counting the different hues of blue and silver warped in his eyes. It was like a snowstorm on a starry night. “Your highness, it’s getting late.”

He stands too abruptly, forgetting you’ve settled on him, and you too lost in whatever is happening between the two of you, fall completely to the floor. Pulling the tablecloth and some of the food and wine with you, and the room erupts in joyous laughter. Bucky’s scowl looks to every person in this fucking hall, and he extends his too hot hand for you to take, and you stand up on your own. Refusing his help.

Something in him shifts when you refuse his hand, and he tugs on your stupid leash, pulling you out of the hall. His long strides make it impossible for you to keep up, so your left gagging as the leash constricts your neck. If you could draw what cruelty was, it would be this king. This disgusting animal. He reaches your cage, and he pushes you into it, slamming the door. Without another word, he struts into his bedroom, and another door slams.

You’re covered in filth. And for what? What did this get you? Mere seconds of him acting like a human, but still it was a burning — weirdness. You can’t even think of the word that pops into your mind, because it’s too absurd to even fathom. To think that you liked it. You can’t help it that your body responded to his touch. No. You didn’t like it. You loathed it.

Bucky strolls out of his bedroom, and shoves something in between your bars, and you kick it back, “Change your fucking close. You’re a mess.”

“Ask nicely.”

“I don’t do nice,” your eyebrow cocks up at him, and he sighs, “Change your clothes. Please,” you bend over, picking up the nightgowns, and you blink at him. “They’re new, and never been worn. No bodily fluids.”

“I need help with — my corset. Unless you don’t know how to undo them.”

“Princess, I have done many things with a corset. Spin around,” you do as he asks. His lithe fingers pull and tug at your laces before he drops his hand to his side, and you look at him over his shoulder. Rolling your eyes up to meet his, and something silent, but primal passes between the two of you. You hate it. You don’t think much of this man that cages you up like a wild beast, but you swear his breath catches in his throat. “What?”

“Can you turn around?”

“Why?” He sounds like a clueless child.

“Because no man has ever seen me,” he bows his head, and turns around. You’re so out in the open. A cage placed right in front of the king’s bedroom. Such nonsense. Such impotence. You wish you could make him wait, but the idea of someone else walking up on you has you going faster than expected.

“I’m trying to be nice,” you snort. When has he been nice? “I could be worse.”

“Worse than the dog you are now?”

“I could have you tied up in my bed, and sprawled out. Leaving you wide open and ready to take my seed, until you’re swollen with my fucking heir. That’s how cruel I can be,” he has a point. But you snort.

He could do all of that, but he’s missing something very important. “You need to learn your place. Know exactly what you birthing our child could mean for the kingdom. For the world,” oh he thought so highly of himself. Alas, he was a fool.

He turns around, and sees you grinning maniacally. Tilting his head to the side, he even looks like a dog. “Oh, your highness. You can fuck me until I’m black and blue, but I’ll never bare a child for you or any man. You see, I’ve never bled. My body is as useless to you as any other man that wants to breed me.”

“You fucking liar.”

“What? Are you suggesting you check my panties? You can wait and wait and wait, it’ll never,” Bucky takes a deep breath, watching as you sit on the new mattress that lays on the floor. You’ll probably thank Steve or Wanda, not knowing it is him that took pity on you, and decided to make things a bit more comfortable.

“Now go away, or release me.”

“Wanda!” Wanda emerges out a door on the opposite side. Gliding up to the king before bowing. “What do you know about her, and the ability she has to have children?”

“Nothing, sire.”

“This — she claims she’s never bled,” Wanda looks over at you, and returns to Bucky with a regretful smile. “And?”

“It’s not uncommon to hear that about the wildlings,” What? You knew that having a child was rare, but you assumed it was because people didn’t want to damn their child to an eternal winter. “They’re malnourished out there. Give it a few months here, and she’ll grow thicker. She won’t be a shaking bird, but a woman with curves that can handle you and your child. But you have to remember…”

“I know!” Bucky’s nostrils flare, and he storms off. Leaving Wanda to look at you instead of her king.

“What?” You ask, annoyed with everything. Being trapped. Being here. Being nothing more than a broodmare for him!

“There’s worse men than Bucky. There’s so much that you don’t know. That you can’t know, but you need to accept it,” she whispers, spinning to return from where she was.

“And who could be worse?” Sighing, Wanda rolls up her sleeves. Her fingers trace around wicked scars at her wrist that gleam in the moonlight. Lifting her skirt, she reveals matching scars on her ankles. She’d been bound. “Like a cage is so much better.”

“In a cage where you’re alone. You weren’t tied up, and stretched out, available to whoever wanted to feast on your soul. Be thankful that my king is merciful, and he’s trying. It’s overtaking him.”

“What is?” Wanda doesn’t respond. She walks the hall and back into her bedroom. There was no screaming and moaning of women, and there wouldn’t be tonight.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

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[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! Could I please request a Wally x reader where she’s super clumsy and kinda shy so when he flirts with her she gets all flustered and clumsy and Wally thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world? Thank you!

got this request AGES ago and forgot to post. hope you like! I don't know much about wally's personality admittedly except for the few comics I've read with him 🫣

gn!reader. wally makes your body and mouth clumsy. kissing and confessions. drinking.

****

"So what exactly is this again?" Roy asks, peering at his glass.

"It's a mocktail," you say.

"No, I get that, but why is it blue? And sparkly."

"It's supposed to be the ocean," Dick says. "Duh."

"Oh, sure. As usual, I'm the idiot. Never had the creative mind to find worlds in drinks. 'S like I'm drinking a snow globe."

"I can get you something else," you say, laughing.

"No, I like the snowglobe." Roy curls his hands around the glass protectively. "My snowglobe."

The team's decided to try their hand at a trivia night at a local bar. It's gone better than you expected, with only one near-blowup and no glasses thrown. All in all, a good night.

"I would like another daiquiri, please," Donna says, holding up her glass. "These are delicious. What flavor did you say this one was?"

"Passion fruit."

She nods. "Indeed. I'm passionate about this fruit."

"Don't get my team too hungover," Dick says, eyes shining and cheeks pink from two drinks.

"I'll do my best," you say.

If only Wally were here, you don't say. He'd be a big help in getting everyone back to the Tower. You have no idea how you're going to manage the Wonder Twins and Garth wobbling all over the sidewalk. Roy, though perfectly sober, will provide zero help, too busy giggling at Dick's lack of motor skills.

You take Donna's glass because she deserves another passion fruit daiquiri if she wants it, darn it. You order that and another two baskets of fries. Dick's got the tab. Everyone's taking advantage.

"Need a hand?"

You turn with the fries cradled in one arm and the daiquiri in your other hand. You don't anticipate Wally to be standing as close as he is.

The baskets go flying.

"Whoa!" he says, darting out to catch the food. He does so perfectly, of course.

"Oh!" Your face goes hot as Wally grins at you.

"Careful," he says. "All those heroes and not a single one came to help you carry the food? They should be ashamed of themselves."

"They're, um, having a good time. It's okay, really." Did you manifest him being here? "I was just thinking about you."

Wally's grin widens. "Oh, yeah? Anything in particular?"

Now, why did you say that? Your tongue just gets so clumsy around him.

"I was—I mean, it wasn't—I was thinking about how helpful it would be if you were here. I was hoping you'd come."

"Well, hope no more! You've got an official superhero on your side."

Wally wriggles the glass out of your hand and gestures for you to go ahead. Now you're carrying nothing. You go, knowing that protesting does no good with Wally.

"Seems like wherever you go, Wally isn't far behind," Roy says, waggling his eyebrows. "You two psychically linked or something?"

Dick and Donna exchange smiles. You look at Wally, mildly mortified by the teasing.

"We're soulmates, actually," Wally says, and that makes your whole body hot. "Wouldn't expect you to understand, Arrow Boy."

"Dude, I'm hurt." Roy clutches his chest. "I thought we were soulmates."

"You wish. Where's Garth?"

"Bathroom," Dick says.

Donna makes grabby hands for the drink. She takes a long sip and gives you a thumbs up. You return it.

"We should play pool!" Dick says.

"No way, you cheat," Roy says.

"I do not! Donna, do I cheat?"

"Physically, Dick doesn't cheat, but he has a long history of psychologically manipulating opponents," Donna says.

Roy snaps his fingers. "Bingo."

"I don't cheat, I'm just that good." Dick smirks. "Anyway, I'm tipsy, so my aim will be off."

Roy rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right. No bets. I can't afford to lose anymore money to you."

"Fine. You two joining us?" Dick asks, looking at you and Wally.

"I don't know how to play pool," you say, a little embarrassed. Working on a team of superheroes, the least you could do is know how to play pool. Pool is obviously a cool people game. Batman probably taught Dick pool when he was, like, eight.

"That's fine, we can teach ya," Roy says.

"No, we suck at teaching," Dick says. "Remember, Roy? Remember how we suck at teaching people? Wally's way better at teaching."

Roy glances at Dick, then at Wally. He nods slowly. "Ah... yeah. Our, uh, shortcomings as teachers—yeah, we suck. Wally, you're up!"

Wally squints at them. "What're you talking about? You guys are better at pool than me."

"Not true! You can calculate physics in your head and shit. Go on. Shoo, fly," Roy says, waving him away.

Wally looks at you, questioning. You shrug, trying to play off how nervous you are at the prospect of being alone with him.

You follow him to one of the pool tables. He takes down a cue stick and gives it to you.

"You really don't have to teach me," you say, suddenly self-conscious. "It's not a big deal."

"I don't mind," he says, smiling. "Plus, what if you're a pool prodigy and we never find out because I never taught you and unlocked your ability? Tragic."

You laugh. He beams. You back up against the table and the wooden edge hits your back. You wince.

"You okay?" he asks, inspecting you.

"Fine." You sigh. "Okay, I'm ready to unlock my special abilities."

"Right on. So you're gonna hold the cue like this."

He puts it in your hands and adjusts your grip.

"Okay, and you're gonna stand like—uh, is it cool if I touch you?"

"Uh-huh," you say, hoping your voice isn't high and breathy.

Wally gently bends you forward and moves your hips so your legs are planted. He's behind you, mouth near your ear.

"Alright," he says, and your whole body goes aflame. He's so close. "So pull back..."

You pull back the cue and promptly elbow Wally in the stomach. He grunts and you drop the stick, mortified.

"Oh my God," you say, spinning around. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. God—"

You dart away, the humiliation too overwhelming. You're making a beeline for the bathroom when Wally appears in front of you. Damn superspeed.

"Hey, hey," he says, hands on your shoulders. "I'm okay. Seriously, don't even worry about it!"

"No." You shake your head. "I give up. I'm too uncoordinated for this stuff. There's a reason I'm not out on the field."

"Aw, c'mon, none of that," Wally says, rubbing your arms. "You're a valued member of the team even if you don't go onto the field. What you do is important. You're like our Oracle."

"I've been tripping over my own feet all night," you say, looking down.

No guesses as to why you've been so clumsy. Starts with a W, ends with a Y.

"Well, I'll always be there to catch you," Wally says warmly. "I have great reflexes. It's kinda my thing."

You busy yourself with picking at a loose thread on your shirt, so Wally won't see your response to that.

"I'm still sorry for elbowing you." You cover your face at the memory. "Ugh."

He laughs. "Nah, it's okay, honestly. I'm a tough guy. Put on my own suit and everything."

And now, your mind is inundated with images of Wally in his suit.

He carefully tugs your hands from your face, gaze soft. You're caught off-guard as Wally rubs your knuckles with his thumbs.

"Listen, I..." He glances around as if searching for words. You've never seen Wally at a loss for words. He's usually talking too fast for anyone to keep up. "I don't know if maybe I'm misreading this. I don't think I am. But if I am, feel free to elbow me again."

Your eyes widen. "I would never—"

And quick as anything, Wally leans in and pecks your lips. It's warm, like a shock of electricity. You barely have time to process it.

"Oh," is all you can say.

Wally smiles nervously. "Is that a good oh or a 'I'd like to punch you in the face' oh?"

"I like you," you blurt.

He relaxes into a grin. "Know what? I kind of suspected. Especially after those idiots practically forced us into playing pool. I'm dumb but I'm not that dumb."

"You're not dumb, Wally."

"When it comes to this stuff, I really am. But I'm happy you like me because I really like you. Like, a lot."

"Yeah? Elbows and all?"

Wally laughs, draws you in again for a kiss. "You can elbow me any time, babe."

[igglemouse]

Simón stared at the product and wondered about it. He never used. He followed that old rule, don't get high off your old supply, but the thing is, this wasn't his supply. He was just the transportation. He brought the stuff in, he brought the stuff out, and that was it. Didn't pay much but it did pay enough but as he looked at it he wondered if it was time for a promotion. If they were going to drag him back in then why should he remain on the sidelines?

It was something he had to seriously consider. If he had the blessing of the cartel, maybe, just maybe he could pull it off. But without their approval? He'd be dead. You don't run from Los Tigres, at least not for long, so if he were to become a dealer he'd have to be a partner.

Still, as he looked around his cramped rundown and dusty trailer he started to wonder if this was his only move. He didn't have many job prospects but he had a lot of ambition. Maybe this was his opportunity...

Tuesday morning and yep, still doing chores. We're planning to hire a maid soon because honestly otherwise this place would be a little too much for me to handle. I do think it would be a temporary thing. I'm not sure if I want Flora growing up to be spoiled, thinking someone will always do her laundry and clean up after her, but who knows how I'll feel about it once the maid checks in. Maybe they will spoil me. It's hard to imagine myself as one of those pampered player wives but I feel like that's the path I'm going down.

As for Flora I'm taking care of her the best I can which of course includes feeding her right from the source. There are a lot of benefits to it, health wise and I've heard it helps with bonding. Not that we'll need help with that because I feel like I've already completely connected with her! She's growing so fast too, every day I can see her getting just a pinch bigger, or maybe I'm imagining it?

Overall, life feels perfect right now! I know I keep saying this but I really can't imagine that I would be in this spot a year ago. A beautiful baby girl, a beautiful house, and an umm, yeah, a good looking but somewhat goofy boyfriend! I just feel so good that even a plain apple salad gets me excited!

I'm really pouring as much of myself as I can into this new social media thing when I do get free time. I want to feel productive and I know taking care of Flora is being productive but like I've said, I don't want that to be my only thing. I know being a mama means limited free time too but I'll manage. I think my new career is off to a great start as well!

As for Pascal, well, you can probably guess. Yep. Working out and of course without his shirt. If you've got it, flaunt it, is what I always hear.

And I'm trying to get it back with a little more free time given to me or at least enough time to hop on the treadmill. I have my mind set on losing this baby weight and I am also motivated by the fact that Pascal does this every single day so I can do it too!

I did spend most of my day on the treadmill and got a solid workout in. I feel so much better! I can't head to bed though without checking in on Flora who was whiny and wriggly and needy and this time I bottle fed her. I also hang out with her a little, chat with her a little, and let her know I love her more than anything in the world. How could I not? Look at her!

Pascal is out for a road game and that's why I've been here home alone for most of the day. I was going to slip into bed but I remember I have to check my socials before sleeping. Which means just seeing the reaction to my last video and interacting with people here and there and also checking in on Pascal's socials since I'm nosy and he's my guy so I have a right to be a little nosy. That's normal right?

Is it also normal that he's liking this woman's post?

Frida Varela - Next Episode 9.4

[walnutcookie]

good day fellow rodger fan, i rlly love your art it gives me whimsy and joy. do you have any headcanons ab him and glisten, perhaps toodles as well? (family dynamics my beloved actually) if not either way i think your stuff is still so rad.

AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!! <333 WEEPS TEARS OF JOY.... i do have some headcanons hehehe... in no particular order/organization heres some of my thoughts on them:

- Rodger is a sleepwalker. Very Embarrassed by it.

- Toodles really enjoys drawing !!! She likes to draw with the other toons a lot (especially glisten, but he usually just watches her and then treats her art like the mona lisa so she feels good about herself)

- rodgers reaction to any sort of physical affection is really funny because he doesnt know how to react. He wants to keep his awesome and mysterious persona but also he doesnt want to be rude or anything. does he reciprocate? does he try to get away before it happens??? does he say something or does he keep quiet? Usually it just results in him freezing up and going stiff

- also adding onto above he tends to be paranoid about peoples intentions. bro gets a hug from goob and freezes and hes thinking "is this an attempt to console me does he think im mentally unwell or is he trying to find my weaknesses so he can kill me"

- in general rodger can be a very paranoid person and starts panicking at the slightest threat but hes pretty good at stopping to think and clearing his head. Logically he knows goob wouldnt kill him and doesnt know his secrets but it is a thought that pops up in his head for a brief moment

- toodles is always very quick to jump in and try to help whenever someone is upset. She wants to help people as best she can so ofc she would but the problem is that shes never sure what to say to cheer people up :'] she tries parroting some of the things rodger has told her when she was sad but also from her experience it never works so she tries to distract people instead most of the time. it makes her feel really guilty whenever she doenst try to help or if she fails to make them feel any better

- Toodles is very close with teagan!! teagan is like her fun uncle :] they take care of toodles sometimes if rodger is busy (or cough missing). Tea parties galore!!!!

- glisten is romo-repulsed i know this in my heart ok. [i know ive drawn him doing romantic things i cant explain the nuances to this in a cohesive way im just projecting ontohim as a romo repulsed person in a relationship]

- Glisten is definitely introverted but not in the "ohh hes shy and hates people" way hes just drained when he talks to people even if he likes talking to people. He needs to take breaks from socializing a lot to recharge his social battery especially since hes always so worried about what people think of him but he also dies if hes alone too long

- toodles is actually VERY fascinated with bugs if theres an ant or a beetle or a roach or something in the facility shes gonna beg to keep it and make a house for it so she can "give it a better life" (glisten will not scream or freak out but there WILL be visible discomfort on his face and he will avoid that bug like the plague)

- rodger smokes cigarettes . He knows which employee(s) carry them around and will snatch one from their pocket at the right moment when nobody is looking... he tries covering his tracks and flushing everything down the toilet and covering up the smell but ofc he gets found out when theres a clog LOL.

- There was also suspicion when toodles started pretend-smoking and saying she was doing the thing that rodger did but most everyone else just assumed it was toodles being a silly little kid

okie dokieee thats all ill do for now !!! Thank you so much for this ask GAUH im so happy people are interested in my hcs for them n stuff 🥹

[xetlynn]

Twilight Imagines- Seth Clearwater

Spaced Out

Requested by: @clean-and-clear

[masterlist]

Summary: based off of the Jacob Imagine: Anything for you!

“I can’t believe he’s doing this… once again!” I shout angrily, throwing my book on the ground of my room. It caused Seth who was sitting on my bed to jolt slightly. I rub my face aggressively, wanting to rip it off. 

“Maybe he has a good reason this time.” My friend comes up to me, giving me a sympathetic expression but I just huff in response. I lay down dramatically. “I don’t even know why I get surprised every time.”

He sits back down, gently rubbing my arm that’s sticking out. “It hurts when a friend says they’re gonna be there and then they’re not. Doesn’t matter how many times.” He frowns, his hand stops and I glance over to him, he’s already looking at me.

“Yeah, it just feels pathetic.” I whisper, closing my eyes. “You should not feel pathetic at all. Jacob can… suck at times. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” He tells me in an earnest tone, I sit up with a small laugh. It was pretty sarcastic sounding when it came out of my mouth.

 “Mm Maybe I do. Maybe I hurt his feelings or something.” I avoid eye contact when I say it.

“Even if you did hurt his feelings, that doesn’t excuse anything, [Name]!” He stands up, exclaiming with his hands. I’ve never seen him with such a frustrated expression, it takes me aback. Seth takes a deep breath before speaking again, rubbing his eyes. “He will realize what he’s doing and you’ll be over it by then. That’s when you will see the friends around you are so much better than Jacob. How they don’t take you for granted.” He tells me, I avoid eye contact with him. Not wanting to admit that he was right.

I know that everything hurts right now but he’s right. I have amazing friends that come whenever I need them. Especially Seth. 

“I’m sorry if I was too harsh. I just… I don’t know.” He sighs, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Thank you.” I mutter out, standing up with him. “I needed to hear that. Even if it was harsher, it needed to be said.” I then walk past him out of my room, he follows behind me.

“Want to go get some food?” We went outside, now on my porch and I hold my keys to my moms old car that she recently gave to me for my birthday. “I don’t have any money.”

“My treat.” I go down the steps but he stands there. I know it’s because he feels bad for having me pay so I playfully roll my eyes. “Think of it as a thank you for listening to me cry over a dickhead.” I shake the keys, waiting for an answer.

 “Please.” I smile.

His head drops and I know I win the argument that didn’t even start. “Let’s go.” He grumbles, both of us head to my car as I laugh.

Time had passed since Seth told me off about appreciating my other friends. I’ve been happier I guess. Jacob still tells me he’s going to be at things and forget or be late to, so I kind of made my Orchestra recital his last chance. It’s more mentally for myself, I didn’t tell him it was his last chance. This is just to finally let him go. It’s going to suck but I need this. I need to let go of a friend who treats me like garbage.

It’s harder when you have a crush on said friend. But he’s older than me, he’s never looked at me like that. I always knew he would never see me more than a friend but a girl could dream. And boy did this girl dream.

I stood behind the stage, wiggling my fingers before I go strain them out on the stage playing the violin. My friend who stands beside me is staring me down for some odd reason. I tilt my head.

 “What?” I whisper. “Your energy seems off, you okay?” She questions me, I squint my eyes, confused on what she means because I feel fine. “Um, I don’t… I don’t know what you mean?” I say earnestly.

“Mm, if you say so. If there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.” She places a hand on my shoulder and all I do is nod my head. She walks off to our other friends and I purse my lips still confused by the whole ordeal.

I shrug my shoulders, stepping to the edge of the curtains and taking a peak out. I see Seth, Paul and Quill already in the crowd and I smile. I notice them saving three seats. For Jacob, Embry and Billy Black who insisted on coming. I hope his son shows up, or else it’s the ending of a friendship.

I go away from the curtains and over to my teacher who is hyping us all up. Reminding us to stay on time together, watch her and bow like taught. She was extremely picky on how we are supposed to bow as musicians.

Minutes pass and finally it’s time for us to get on the stage and present our beautiful pieces we worked on for two months. I even have a duo with my friend who was questioning me earlier. We go on stage in the organized manner that my teacher critiqued days before at school.

 Before sitting down we bow to the audience. I look over to my friends and see the empty spot between Billy Black and Seth. My heart drops. I roll my eyes, sitting down after the stupid bow and now all I can think about is the fact that he forgot the one thing I begged him not to forget.

Instead of the anger screwing me up in my playing I channel it into something better. I play my pieces with extra passion. Having to remind myself not to play ahead of the timing. Following the people beside me.

He doesn’t even show up late. I keep making eye contact with Seth who gives me sympathetic smiles, but in between songs cheering me on the hardest.

After the concert I don’t stay and chat with anyone, getting out as fast as possible. Going over to my group of people. They all compliment me, but it’s going in one ear and out the other. I feel numb in a way. I try my darndest to ignore the hurt in my chest, placing a fake smile upon my lips. Holding onto Seth, leaning onto him as we all talk in the parking lot. I didn’t even notice how flustered the boy got.

Only did when the others began to tease him. I glance over to his face and finally realize what I was doing and I back away. “Sorry.” I chuckle. I knew about the boy's crush. I have since it started. I never minded, I knew it wasn’t going to last. Just puppy love if you will.

“It’s okay.” He shyly responds, hiding his face from me. I glared at the guys who were still cackling, making fun of the poor boy.

Later in the day Jacob called my mom’s phone, asking when I would be home. She told him three. I guess he said that he promised he would be there at the same time to talk to me. It’s obviously to apologize for missing my concert but at this point I don’t want to see his face.

I checked the time and it already hit 5:30. I’ve been outside at our usual spot since three and there’s been no sight of him. I wrote in my journal that my school counselor gave to me. I use it to mainly rant about stupid things. Lately it’s been about Jacob Black. Once it’s written down I’m basically over it.

“[Name]!” A voice calls and I feel my heart thump almost hoping it was Jacob’s voice but when I see Seth there’s a slight disappointment. But then it thumps again, beating quicker. I scrunch my eyebrows, not expecting the feeling. “Hey, uh, Quil, Embry and I were going to the beach. Did you want to join?” He asks.

I looked behind me and there was nothing. I turned back to Seth and sighed. “Yeah, let’s go.” I stand up from my spot.

We end up throwing around a football after messing around in the water. During this time I haven’t even thought about Jake. 

Now that’s all in my head is this weird feeling I’m having for Seth. I didn't understand it. I never felt this way for him before. But looking back at how much he’s done for me, how he’s such a genuine friend and loyal person I can’t help it. It makes more sense to like him anyways, he’s my age. He likes me, himself. But if I do confess what would that mean for us. Would we actually even date? Would we stay best friends? 

 “You good, [Name]?” A voice speaks up in my direction and I snap out of my daze, glancing over to Embry. Where the voice came from. “Hm, Yeah?” I raise a brow in response. I didn’t realize I appeared upset at all.

 “You thinking about that jerk?” Quill asks with a smile. I notice his eyes flicker between Seth and I. I look over to the boy whose head goes down.

“No, actually.” I roll my eyes, catching the ball. “I just feel spacy.” I mumble before throwing the ball with too much force. Not meaning to, obviously. It hit Seth hard in the face, smack dab in the nose. I wince, immediately running over to him. 

“Are you okay!? I’m so sorry!” I shout, pulling his face into my hands, checking to see if I caused it to bleed. Luckily I didn’t so I pulled him into a hug. “I’m so sorry!” I don’t know why I’m reacting so harshly about this. It was only a hit in the face…

“It’s alright, [Name].” He mutters quietly, I hear snickering behind me. “You’re so dramatic, missy.” Embry laughs as Quill was holding his stomach due to the scene in front of him. I huff, still holding onto the boy as I attempt to ignore them. “His face is so red.” I hear Quill say to Embry and I glance down. My mouth turning into an ‘o’ shape.

I let the boy go and sheepishly hid my face behind my hands. “Sorry, Seth. I don’t know what my deal is lately.” I frown, turning to walk away but the sound of his chuckle stops me. “It’s okay! Seriously! And that’s just how you are!” He gives me a closed eye smile before holding his nose in pain from the small movement he made.

And just like that my guilt came back ten fold. “Hey, we have to go, forgot we were supposed to meet Paul soon!’ Embry suddenly calls out and I give him a strange expression but all he does is shrug then runs off with Quill right behind him.

“Wanna play some more?” Seth hands me the ball but I scrunch my face in response, smacking it down into the sand. “Let’s just chill here.” I plop down, moments later he joins me in the sand. “Again, I’m sorry.” I put my hands in my lap, refusing to look at him.

“[Name], it’s fine. I promise.” He grins, nudging me with his arm. “I still feel bad. I’ve been so out of it the past few days.” I exclaim annoyed, squeezing my hands together to the point that they’re paler than usual. “Understandable, Jacob’s been an ass.”

I scoff out a laugh. “It’s not even because of him.” I throw a hand in the air, now feeling like I’m stupid. “It’s not?”

“No! I just-” How am I supposed to tell you it’s you! Seth I have these weird feelings growing and I like you. I like you so much it floods my thoughts every hour and minute and I’m going insane! How am I supposed to tell you that!?

I know how.

In my stupid, idiotic way. “I like you, Seth. A lot.” I whisper, leaning back, using my arm to keep me up behind me. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about.” I smile, squinting my eyes from the sun. “Really?”

“Mhm.” I hum out, watching every little move his face made. The expression wasn’t really readable. I furrowed my brows.

“You don’t feel the same?” I quiz, tilt my head to the side even more than it already is from the position that I am in.

“I do, I’m just in shock. I think?” He tells me and I laugh. “Cute.” I look over at the water. “Wha-what does that mean for us?” He asked me.

“Whatever you want it to mean.” I told him. “Well, I’d like for you to be my girlfriend but can I take you out on a proper date?” He asks me and I hear him shuffle to get up.

Now standing in front of me. “Like now?” I giggle, his hand shoots out in front of me and I slowly take it. “Yes.” He nods his head vigorously. “Okay!” He drags me away from the beach. 

———————————

So sorry!!!! I’ve had a lot of stress lately and haven’t been in a good mindset to write:/ but I have been editing the crap out of things and plan on re-editing a few things while also obviously working on my stories and catching up on imagines.

[latexb0n3z]

Sorry Sack

(Blindness) Anyways; this was a request I really liked from @umbrulla

CW: They get a little too excited at the end, Logan is thrilled by sensation- and Wade is thrilled by Logan.

The first thing Logan noticed was the silence. Not the kind he liked, either—not the peace that came from sitting under a canopy of trees with the faint rustle of wind and the distant chirp of birds. This was something deeper, heavier, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Then came the pain.

Hot, searing, and impossible to ignore. His claws instinctively popped as his body tensed, every nerve screaming. But even through the agony, Logan’s mind zeroed in on one detail: he couldn’t see.

“What the hell…” he groaned, voice ragged, the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth.

The fight had been brutal. He’d barely registered the mutant—a hulking beast of a man with claws sharper than his own—before they were tangled in a blur of violence. Logan had won, but at a price.

“Logan?”

The voice cut through the haze. Familiar, annoying, and somehow grounding.

“Wade…” Logan growled.

“Holy crap, your eyes! Dude, did someone order Wolverine tartare? ’Cause you’re looking medium rare—wait, no, extra well-done. Oh, man. I can’t look. But I also can’t not look.”

Logan’s lips curled into a snarl. “Wade. Shut. Up.”

“Right, right. Focus. Got it. First aid kit. Oh, wait, that’s not gonna help, is it? You’ve got the whole self-healing deal. Or… wait, why aren’t they healing?!”

Logan gritted his teeth. The wounds around his eyes had already stopped bleeding, and the skin was knitting itself back together. But there was something wrong. He blinked—or tried to—but the world stayed black.

“Wade,” Logan said, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. “I can’t see.”

—

The first week was hell.

Incident one.

Logan’s body healed fast enough that the scars around his eyes were gone in hours. But his vision? That never returned.

At first, he’d thought it was a fluke. Maybe his body just needed more time. But as the days dragged on, it became clear: the healing factor wasn’t fixing this.

“Logan, buddy, I don’t think it’s a good idea to—”

“I don’t need your help, Wade,” Logan snapped, shoving past him and nearly tripping over a chair.

Wade caught him before he fell, his grip surprisingly steady. “Okay, fine, I won’t say it. But, uh, just for the record, that chair you almost face-planted into? It wasn’t even in your way. You walked into it.”

Logan growled, swatting Wade’s hand away. He hated this. The helplessness. The constant pity in Wade’s voice, even if the merc tried to mask it with jokes. He was blind as a bat— and it wasn’t getting better. He didn’t realize just how much he loved seeing color… and seeing the people speaking to him.

—

Incident two.

“Logan, you’re breaking everything in my apartment!” Wade groaned as Logan stumbled, knocking over a table.

Logan growled. “Then maybe don’t leave your crap everywhere.”

“It’s not crap, it’s art,” Wade replied, righting the table. “Also, that was a pizza box, not a chair. You’re welcome for me not laughing— which I would be if my concern wasn’t outweighing my urge to poke fun at you, peanut.”

Logan had the urge to tell him to stop calling him that, but a part of him liked it subconsciously… so he never said anything.

Logan sat heavily on the couch, his head in his hands. It had been weeks, and the blindness wasn’t getting any better. Outwardly, he was healed—no scars, no blood, nothing to suggest he was any different than before. But inside, his healing factor kept rejecting the delicate tissue in his eyes, leaving him in permanent darkness.

“Look, you can’t keep wallowing here forever,” Wade said. “I know someone who can help.”

“Who? One of your weird ‘contacts’?”

“I know just the gal. She’s blind too—super smart, super snarky, and way better at being blind than you are at… whatever this is.”

“Blind Al,” Wade announced.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Blind who?”

“Al! She’s like a sarcastic Yoda, but without the pointy ears. You’ll love her.”

Meeting Blind Al

Wade didn’t give Logan much of a choice, dragging him to a small, cozy house at the edge of town. The place smelled of lavender and bleach, with the faint hum of a heater in the background. This wasn’t going to be the kind of help he wanted, he already knew that. He needed to be fixed, not learn how to live like this. His body was supposed to fix itself.

“Wade, what the hell are you doing back here?” came a sharp voice from inside.

“Al! I brought you a gift!” Wade called cheerfully. “He’s grumpy, hairy, and now conveniently blind, just like you!”

“Watch it,” Logan muttered.

A woman appeared in the doorway, leaning on her cane. She was older, with short-cropped white hair and a sharp expression that could cut steel.

“So, you’re the famous Wolverine,” Al said, sizing him up. “And you’re blind now. Boo-hoo. Get in here.”

Logan blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Al snapped. “If you’re going to sulk about being blind, you can do it inside where I don’t have to listen to Wilson yapping in my yard.”

Blind Al didn’t waste time with pity or pleasantries. The moment Logan stepped into her home, she handed him a cane.

“What’s this for?” Logan asked, frowning.

“For not walking into walls,” Al said flatly. “Lesson one: stop acting like you’re the only blind person who’s ever existed.”

Logan bristled but followed her instructions. Over the next few days, she taught him how to rely on his other senses more intentionally—how to map a room by sound, how to feel the flow of air on his skin, how to tune in to subtle vibrations in the ground.

—

“You’re lucky,” Al said one day. “You’ve got super senses and a healing factor. You’ve already got an edge. You just need to stop feeling sorry for yourself long enough to use it.”

Logan didn’t respond, but her words stuck with him.

Wade’s “Help”

—

While Al focused on practical skills, Wade took a more… unconventional approach.

“Logan, I got you something!” Wade announced one day, bounding into the room.

“Unless it’s a beer, I don’t want it,” Logan muttered.

“Better than beer! It’s a seeing-eye dog!”

Logan froze. “You got me a dog?”

Wade grinned. “Yep! His name is Sir Barksalot. Isn’t he cute?”

Logan heard a low growl, followed by the sound of claws clicking on the floor.

“Wade, that’s not a dog,” Al said from the other room. “That’s a raccoon!”

“Details!” Wade shouted.

Logan sighed. “Get it out of here before I gut it.”

“Oh no you don’t! Not in my house!”

—

Despite Wade’s antics, Logan began to make progress. Blind Al’s blunt teaching style forced him out of his comfort zone, and little by little, he started to adapt. He could navigate Al’s house without bumping into furniture, track sounds with precision, and even spar with Wade using only his heightened senses.

But the darkness still lingered. No matter how much he adjusted, Logan couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness.

One night, he sat on the porch, the cool air brushing against his face.

“You know, you’re still you,” Wade said, sitting down beside him.

“Yeah? And what the hell does that mean, bub?”

“It means you’re still the Wolverine,” Wade said. “Blind or not, you’re still the toughest, beefiest, sexiest guy I know. And I’m not just saying that because you could stab me if I didn’t.”

Logan snorted, and Wade earned a little half smile, to which he stared at admiringly. Not like Logan could see him doing it and stop him. His eyes almost looked like his own if you really looked. Milky, clouded pupils.

“You’re an idiot.” But his tone had no bite to it.

“True,” Wade said cheerfully. “But I’m your idiot.”

Logan didn’t respond, but for the first time in weeks, he felt a small spark of hope.

—

They had almost the same conversation twice, but with an even better outcome in Wade’s eyes.

Logan adjusted to his new world of darkness better than he expected, but even with all the progress he’d made, there were nights when the silence pressed in too hard, and the void felt endless, under stimulated by his existence, mourning a whole sense.

Tonight was one of those nights, where his thoughts got just as dark as his vision. He lost himself in thought.

He didn’t hear Wade approach, but the merc’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade.

“Care if I join you, big guy?” Wade asked softly, without his usual theatricality.

Logan shrugged, gruff as ever, but he didn’t push him away. He felt Wade sit beside him, his presence oddly grounding.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Wade, remarkably, didn’t fill the silence with jokes or chatter. Logan almost missed it.

“You ever think…” Logan began, his voice low and rough, “about how much quieter the world is when you can’t see it?”

Wade tilted his head, the question catching him off guard. “Well, I wouldn’t call my world quiet. It’s more like a carnival run by homicidal tumor ridden clowns, but I get your point.”

Logan huffed a faint laugh, the closest thing to a smile Wade had gotten out of him in days.

“You’ve been hanging around a lot,” Logan said after a beat. “Even for you.”

“Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you from falling on pizza boxes. And, y’know… I like being around you. You’re like a really grumpy lighthouse, guiding me through life’s fog.” He said, trying to make the statement as intentionally corny as possible.

Logan turned toward him, blind eyes staring unseeing into Wade’s face. “You’re the worst at metaphors.”

Wade grinned. “But I’m great at sitting here and annoying you into realizing how awesome you are.”

Logan’s lip twitched. “You’re annoying, all right.”

“I annoy because I care,” Wade said, his voice dipping into something softer, gentler.

The silence returned, but this time it wasn’t heavy. Logan leaned back against the porch railing, listening to the steady rhythm of Wade’s breathing.

“You really think I’m still me?” Logan asked quietly, the vulnerability in his voice catching even him by surprise.

“Logan,” Wade said, and the sound of his name—spoken without a joke or a smirk—made something in Logan’s chest tighten. “I’ve thought you were you since the first time I met you. Sight or no sight, claws or no claws, you’re still the guy I’d follow into any fight. You’re still the guy I…” He trailed off, then added with an almost shy chuckle, “You’re still the guy I’d make pancakes for in the morning. Bad ones, but pancakes nonetheless.”

Logan turned his head toward Wade, his brows furrowing. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” Wade replied. “And don’t worry—I’ll keep being annoying about it until you believe me.”

Something in Logan softened, the walls he’d been holding up for so long starting to crumble. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out a hand, fumbling for Wade’s. Wade caught it immediately, his fingers warm and steady.

“Guess I’ve been fighting this too hard,” Logan admitted.

Wade squeezed his hand. “It’s okay to let someone in, Logan. Even if it’s just me. Especially if it’s me.” He said that even though he knew damn well he didn’t let anyone in himself— just tried his best to make himself into a joke, because if he doesn’t laugh, he cries.

For the first time in weeks, Logan let out a deep breath that felt like relief. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Never,” Wade promised, his voice so soft it almost broke.

Logan didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t pull his hand away either. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the darkness didn’t seem so overwhelming. Logan hesitated, but he leaned forward to rest his forehead in the crook of Wade’s clavicle— inhaling him like he was a drug, taking a deep breath in.

It was like a badge of honor to Wade, so he didn’t ruin it by speaking— until now.

“Can I kiss you, honey badger? I really wanna kiss you right now.”

The question was so direct it made Logan feel hot from the tips of his ears to the tip of nose and quickly. He made a deep, low, guttural sound, almost like a sigh, contemplating, nervous. Bashful. Partly because Wade didn’t just do it… he asked… desperately, enthusiastically.

Because he wanted that same enthusiasm back.

Logan nodded, parting his lips slightly— expecting Wade to take the lead at risk of missing his lips if he tried to lean in himself.

The sensation lit his core on fire, and the end of every nerve. Wade noticed immediately the shift in his body temperature, the way he was hot to the touch. It made Wade a little trigger happy, kicking up the intensity from a soft little kiss to a hungry, grabby, make-out session. He’s gripping Logan’s hair at the top like he’s got handles, licking his teeth and bitting his bottom lip before pulling away.

“Holy shit, Wade. Were you trying to eat me?” He wiped the saliva off his mouth, the small bruise left on his lip healing visibly in its usual record time.

Wade almost moaned, still only inches away from Logan’s face, still feeling his heavy, hot breath on his skin. “Oh fuck yes, Logan— I’m trying to eat you. I should call you little bat from now on. Because you’re about a head shorter than me and you can’t even see how much I look at that ass anymore.” The humor in his meaning still came through, but his tone remained flirtatious.

“Fuck off, you’re sick.” He punched Wade’s chest playfully- still so taken aback from the intensity of how Wade attempted to devour him that his stomach ached with arousal.

“Let’s go home. Quickly. I really do need to eat you, Logan. Like right now, I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”

Logan pressed a finger hard against Wade’s lips, grabbing the back of his head. Wade shut right up.

“You’re too excited, watch it before I change my mind.”

See what I did with the colors there? Hehheheheheh.

[losergender]

you know what's timebomb coded? the entire home video album by lucy dacus released in 2021. (s2 act 3 spoilers ahead)

"you used to be so sweet, now you're a firecracker on a crowded street" -> from powder being a major sweetheart to jinx being (lovingly and not so lovingly) a pain in the ass that annoys everyone (and also literally carrying explosives around) | "led me to the floor even though i'm not a dancer" -> literally them dancing in ep7 | "how did i believe i had a hold on you? you were always stronger than people suspected, underestimated and overprotected" -> GUYS THIS IS LITERALLY EKKO TALKING ABOUT POWDER ISTG !!! "a hidden gem, my own goldmine, you had the wide and wild eyes" -> jinx eyes changing color and all "NOW YOU'RE THE BIGGEST BRIGHTEST FLAME, YOU ARE A FIRE THAT CAN'T BE TAMED, YOU'RE BETTER THAN EVER, BUT I KNEW YOU WHEN IT'S BITTERSWEET TO SEE YOU AGAIN" -> GUYS IS THIS NOT EXACTLY EKKO'S FEELINGS ABOUT JINX COME ON GUYS

the entire "first time" is peak "can we pretend like it's the first time?" | "YOU CAN'T FEEL IT FOR THE FIRST TIME A SECOND TIME" , "and how will i know if history repeats itself? how will I know when it's gonna come back around? how will i know? has my face changed, baby? how will I know?" this ekko after breaking free from the perfect dimension guys ,,, guys..

cartwheel guys. cartwheel. "FIREFLY juice on your skin / you're glowing like an ATOM BOMB" it's them it's them it's so them | "this natural thing that you've undone / outgrew older sister's clothes again / won't admit you're growing tall and thin" ekko watching her turn from powder to jinx from afar,,, | "i thought back to many years ago: a late-night promise on the telephone, we'd build a house of twigs and vines, grow old together just to pass the time // now there's only past and present day, i can't believe a word you say" EKKO WATCHING HER TURN EVIL FROM AFAR GUYS !!! WHILE STILL KEEPING FEELINGS !!!

thumbs it's ekko thinking about what silco has done to her. "i would kill him if you let me, i would kill him quick and easy, your nails are digging into my knee, i don't know how you keep smiling" / "you've been in his fist ever since you were a kid, but you don't owe him shit even if he said you did"

please stay. please stay is literally canon because he literally had to stop her from killing herself a good 5 times. "change your name, change your mind, change your ways, give them time [...] call me if you need a friend or never talk to me again, but please stay" like pleaseeee

and triple dog dare,,, "you're dancing in the aisle 'cause the radio Is singing you a song you know and the kid at the counter is gawking at your grace / i can tell what he's thinking by the look on his face, it's not his fault, I'm sure i look the same / it's what you do, but it's not you i blame" EP 7 TIMEBOMB GUYS | "you know i'll be seeking if you run and hide, if the door were to open, would you walk through the frame? if you're too afraid, it won't be you i blame" that's ekko trying to save her at some point | "i want you to tell me that you miss me, want you to hold and hurt and kiss me [...] it's a triple dog dare, you're a chicken if you don't" -> no explanation needed. | "i can fish for our food and you know how to start a flame, if you don't get out now, you'll only have yourself to blame" this is what he sounded like when he tried to save her from silco (bc i know he tried guys) "You said 'you have me there, if it's a triple dog dare'" bc tell me she is not the kind of person to do anything if it's a challenge. | "they put our faces on the milk jugs, missing children 'til they gave up [...] can't find the feeling of relief, nothing worse could happen now" -> ekko literally putting her face on the missing/dead poster, ekko disappearing in s2, jinx fleeing (she did not die guys trust me),,,

[whumpsoda]

WSFSP - “That’s all I am”

Masterlist

This takes place pretty far in their recovery!

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, past abuse, multiple whumpees, arguing, blood mention

���—————

“Graham.”

Every slice of carrot cut through, the knife hit a grunt against the cutting board. “Mm?”

Wesley held his arms crossed, rubbing at the fuzz of his sweater. “Can I talk to you? Please?” Graham did his best not to fall for the eyes he would always use on their master, pleading and doe like. Trained yet mesmerizing.

“Sure.” He shrugged, sticking his gaze to the task at hand.

Wesley sighed, as if he had a reason to. “Not… right here. In private.” He mumbled, face scrunching up in a wad.

“Well, I’m making dinner.”

From the corner of his vision, Graham caught as Wesley’s expression angered. “Why are you… being so weird? About my hair?” Gripping the edge of the countertop, he did his best to get in Graham’s face, bangs freshly cut and no longer falling into his hard gaze.

Graham sighed this time, nearly slicing through his thumb. “It looks good, okay? I already told you I like it.”

“Yeah, I know Graham, that’s not what I’m asking about and you know it.” He scoffed, before softening, just a smidge. “Are you… mad at me?”

“No I’m-,” his mouth twitched downward. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

“Ask you what?”

“If I could be there when you did it. If I could help.” Then he looked up, hazel eyes meeting brown. “You only ever ask her anymore.”

“I- I mean-,” Wesley spoke with his hands, just a little, before swiping one through his hair, “that’s just how it happened. I didn’t plan it or anything. I just wanted to.”

Chop, chop, chop. “Yeah, but you didn’t think of me at all. You never do anymore. You only think about her, all of the time, like she would get you. Like she knows what you have been through.”

“She literally does!” Wesley huffed a chuckle, arms out wide in disbelief.

“You know what I mean.”

He bit his lip, eyes growing moist. He always cried when he was angry. “Graham, our time with sir was completely different!”

“She doesn’t know you like I do!”

A slice of pain, a drool of red.

Wesley gasped. “Oh, Graham-,”

“I’m fine.” He snapped, reaching for a paper towel.

Wesley crossed around the tight kitchen, arms out and ready. “Let me help-,”

“I’m fine!”

Wesley stumbled back, hand on his chest at the place of impact. It wasn’t a real shove, but enough that it was a stinging shock to the both of them.

Wesley laughed then, quick and low. “I, I thought you were supposed to protect me, huh? Now you’re just gonna shove me around?”

“Well I’m not your fucking- your stupid puppy anymore, okay?” Graham growled, shaking his head and cradling his bleeding finger with a quivering hand.

“So then why are you acting like one trying to follow me everywhere, try- trying to be there for my every move? Being all needy?”

“Because-!” Pounding his fist to the wood, Graham roared, “Beacause I have to! You just don’t get it!”

Wesley’s voice lost it’s edge then, begging, “Then make me get it, Graham.”

“I…,” he swallowed, pausing, brain turning, “It feels like my head is going to- to fucking explode whenever I don’t know where you are because, like, what if you’re hurt or someone’s hurting you, and I hate it because I know you hate it and I just want to be me but my whole life revolves around you-,”

“But, Graham, I just-,” he sputtered a laugh, sour, “I thought you were past all of this, y’know, ‘cause you’re you, and we’re apart all the time now I… I thought you were fine.”

Graham hung his head. “Yeah… I lied. I did. I’m sorry.”

You are nothing without someone to serve.

His expression hardened, grip on his finger twisting. “I am nothing without someone to serve.”

Wesley grazed his arm, yet Graham yanked back. “Don’t- don’t say that-,”

Shaking his head, Graham clenched his fists to his side. “It is true, Wesley. Tell me one thing about me that’s not pet related. One thing.”

One second Wesley’s mouth fell wide, before it snapped shut. “Hey, that, that’s not-,”

“You can’t. Okay, Wesley?”

All you are is some stupid, loyal mutt.

“That’s all I am.”

Wesley’s brown eyes were filled with a moist redness, brows furrowed over them. “Fine. Fine! You tell yourself that and you’re not even trying to get better.” Pushing past the other rescue, he stormed back to their room, slamming the door behind him.

Graham didn’t mean to think it. He did, anyway.

Good.

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing

@whump-till-ya-jump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)