#i don't currently have the brain power to make out the words for why i like her sm and i feel like i have to make a disclaimer for the tags

[agoodflyting]

A lot of Thoughts about Enver Gortash and the text of Richard III

Ok so William Shakespeare's character of Richard of Gloucester is very much the archetype for the Tyrant in western literature and I just have SO MANY THOUGHTS about the way Enver Gortash wears that particular crown... (Not to mention how the fangirl in me just loves some of Richard's dialogue and could easily see it coming out of Gortash's mouth, and I'm trying so hard NOT to write a whole ass fic just so I can get Gortash to say, "I am not made of stone.")

WHO IS RICHARD III?

In real life, he was the last Plantagenet king of England, and a controversial figure, but I'm just talking about how he's depicted as a character in William Shakespeare's play Richard III (and to a lesser degree in Henry VI) . In Shakespeare's plays he is written as the quintessential scheming, backstabbing, duplicitous tyrant who will stop at nothing to gain and keep power. He concocts a massive plan in which he will manipulate the whole of the English aristocracy into crowning him king, by creating a situation in which they will be so desperate and angry at an imagined enemy that they will beg him to assume power over them. Sound familiar?

"Since I cannot prove a lover (...) I am determined to prove a villain." They have different backgrounds, but with both Richard of Gloucester and Enver Gortash there's a driving current of otherness compared to the ranks of the nobility that they're manipulating. Gortash is from a working class family but clawed his way up to join the ranks of the well-bred elite through cunning and ingenuity (and lots of crime). Richard was born into a noble family, but is physically disabled and is often mocked or insulted for it. In context, Richard uses the phrase 'since I cannot prove a lover' less as a complaint about his love life and more as a general example of how he has doesn't fit in with his peers. Basically, "You don't accept me? I'll make that everyone's problem."

"How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown..." Both of them survived trauma and violence, which was directed at them by people against whom they were powerless at the time. Gortash was sold to Raphael as a child and spent years as a target of every kind of abuse his master deigned to throw at him. Richard saw his father and brother brutally tortured, then murdered by the queen of their country, while he could do nothing to stop it. In both cases they internalized at a young age that violence = power = safety.

"Was ever woman in this humour won? (...) I, that kill'd her husband and his father, to take her in her heart's extremest hate (...) and yet to win her, all the world to nothing!" Both Richard and Gortash are platinum-tier smooth-talkers, who are skilled at getting other people to act the way they want through use of charming words. Richard shoots his shot with Anne despite the fact that she knows full well he murdered her last husband and she literally spent the first half of the scene wishing death on him. But by the end of the scene he's convinced her to marry him. Gortash, similarly, can talk the player character around to siding with him against the Elder Brain in spite of having just spent the first 2 act of the games trying to unravel his evil plots. Why? Because they're both just. that. smooth. They both have a way of manipulating others with a smile and good cheer - they sound so reasonable, even when you KNOW you shouldn't listen to them.

"Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself." Both of them have are underestimated partly because of their ability to be charming, and partly because of their status as outsiders. Gortash because of his working class background, and Richard because of his disabilities. In both cases, there are people who find them repulsive but generally toothless (Queen Elizabeth and Ulder Ravengard respectively) who live to regret it. In both cases there are also people who ring the alarm bell that this creep is up to no good, but who aren't heeded soon enough.

"And thou unfit for any place but hell." "Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it." "Some dungeon." "Your bed-chamber." They both have a little bit of that freak in them and seem to get off on trying to fuck people who want them dead. See: Richard with Anne. Durgetash in general.

"I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, and entertain some score or two of tailors." Gortash and Richard are both exceptionally well-dressed, to the point of vanity. Gortash is described as handsome in the game, but even fans who dig him can admit that he has a very unconventional style of attractiveness. His teeth are discolored, his skin is blotchy, he's pushing late middle age, and he's got the sort of flat features that other fans have pointed out are typical of boxers and other people who've gotten punched in the face a lot. Similarly, Richard is described as hunchbacked and with features so deformed that 'dogs bark at (him) as (he) passes by'. Yet, despite not being conventionally pretty, both of them seem to spend a lot of money on their clothes. ... this is getting long, so I'm going to end this here. Might do a part 2 later if the brainrot is still upon me.

[mayoiayasep]

thank you How Do We Relationship for giving me tamaki shishio i'll treasure her for the rest of my life

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

[thezombieprostitute]

Trick for a Treat

A/N: Written for @yenzys-lucky-charm and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork's Horny Hoes Hootenanny using the prompts:

🍁 "I'm gonna make you mine"

🍁 "Will you quit acting like I have the plague?"

🍁 fantasy/supernatural AU

🍁 praise

🍁 meeting a demon/ghost/witch on All Hallows Eve

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: DARK FIC!! Coercion, Forced submission, Mind control, Noncon. Please let me know if I missed any!

The company Halloween party was in full swing and you were determined to enjoy yourself. You weren't really one for dressing up, but you wore some accessories and wanted to take part in some of the games. Really you were happy to get time out of your department, away from your boss and his attempts to win you over with his "so pathetic you have to love me" ploy. You'd tried to bring it up with HR, present your case, but it didn't get anywhere. Andy stayed just on the legal side of things so your only options were either find a different job or just endure.

You're enjoying some of the hot apple cider when you see him. Your smile drops and you move to another area of the building. He follows you, keeping you moving until he finally catches up, giving you nowhere to leave.

"Will you quit acting like I have the plague?" he gripes. "You don't have to keep running from me."

"Will you accept that I'm not interested in dating you?"

His face hardens, "why not? What have I ever done to turn you away?"

"You don't take 'no' for an answer. That should be reason enough!"

"Not when you can't tell me why you said 'no' in the first place," he growls.

"I don't owe you an explanation!"

His jaw tightens as he leans in far closer than you like, "I'm gonna make you mine. And you will love me for it."

You start to retort and push him away but then his eyes darkened. Literally, they turn black, causing you to freeze, oddly mesmerized by them. He smiles and you find yourself unable to turn away.

"I got a present for you," he whispers, his voice sounding almost otherworldly. He opens up a jewelry case and you see a cutesy, pink butterfly collar necklace. It's the sort of thing you would normally scoff at, especially after Andy's continuous comments about how you'd look so cute if you wore more pink. Instead you're frozen, unable to even blink, still mesmerized by his eyes.

He tells you to put the collar on and you can't help but comply. Internally you feel like you're trapped in a dream, limbs sluggish, voice not working. You clasp the necklace on and it's like you're frozen in place. You can't even struggle for control anymore, cut off from your own body.

Andy's eyes return to normal and he takes a minute to catch his breath. "You took up a lot of power, Butterfly, but I should've figured as much from you." He place a hand on your cheek, you're unable to stop him, to pull away, to do anything. He smiles smugly, "I knew I couldn't use that spell on you forever, so I worked out a little deal to get this necklace for you. It's already working better than expected." He gives you a small kiss on your lips. You want to vomit, smack him, protest in any way, but you can't.

He pulls away, "you're going to be a good girl for me from now on, right, Butterfly?"

"Yes, Master," you automatically respond.

"Good girl," he whispers in your ear and you let out a whine as you feel a jolt of pleasure in your core. He smiles cruelly, "did that make you wet?"

"Yes, Master," you reply, your voice strained.

"Perfect," he purrs. "Now go back to your desk, clock out for the day, and wait for me out front."

"Yes, Master." You're moving before you finished speaking. Seemingly every fiber of your being is determined to be obedient and make Andy happy. Your body is going through the motions while your brain keeps kicking and screaming, trying desperately to make it stop. You must be having some kind of effect given that tears are currently blurring your vision.

Stepping outside, you wait. Andy's car pulls up and he looks at you, expectantly, but you don't move. I was only ordered to wait, you realize. This whatever-the-hell-it-is has limits!

He's clearly realized this as well given that he opens the passenger door from his seat and motions for you to come into the car. Again, your body doesn't respond. You allow yourself a moment of smugness as you see his jaw tense in irritation. He calls for you to join him and your body finally moves as he wishes. At his command you buckle yourself up and he begins driving.

When you get onto the main road you hear the sound of Andy's zipper coming undone. You want to cringe, get away, but you remain motionless. He takes your hand and places it around his half hard member. "Be a good girl and stroke me until I come," he orders, causing your hand to start moving. You're glad you only have to look straight ahead, you don't want to witness yourself doing this.

He starts moaning, "feels so good. I knew you'd know how to treat a man." Your hatred for him is interrupted by his utterance of, "such a good girl." Just like last time, you feel a shock of pleasure, causing you to whimper, your body wanting more. "Squeeze tighter, Butterfly," he whispers. Your hand automatically goes a little tighter but you jump at an idea. He never said how much tighter to squeeze. You're able to get your body to listen and it keeps squeezing until Andy cries out.

"BAD GIRL!" he shouts.

Your body collapses on itself, mouth open in a silent scream. The pain is intense, the worst you've ever felt. It feels like you're being torn apart from the inside. It feels like an eternity passes before Andy puts a hand on the back of your neck, ceasing the pain.

"Have you learned your lesson?" His voice is dripping with anger.

"Yes, Master," you sob.

"Good. Now get back to stroking my cock like a good slut."

"Yes, Master." Your hand gets back to work, and he calms down as he enjoys your touch. You're certain his power over you is making him hard as opposed to your actual touch. His cock twitches and you feel the precum leaking.

"Be a good girl and suck me off," Andy growls. You don't even have time to get the "yes, master" out before taking his cock down your throat. "Holy shit," he breathes. "Should've known you'd be such a good slut for me. Fuck, you feel so good. Gonna have to pull over so I can enjoy this."

You barely notice the car pulling to a stop, distracted by your attempts to fight whatever spell your under. You thought you hated this man before, but now you feel an even deeper rage, accentuated by the taste of him in your mouth. Your anger intensifies as he strokes your hair and repeats, "good girl", making you whine with need and pleasure. He calls himself "daddy" in the midst of his praising and you wish you could vomit. You almost do when he pushes your head down as he comes. You can't breathe but your body wasn't ordered to do anything so you can't fight it and you end up passing out.

You wake up as the car pulls into a garage. Andy looks at you, smile on his face, "we're home Butterfly! Welcome to the rest of your life." He caresses your cheek, turning your face to him, "you're going to make me so happy, aren't you?"

"Yes, Master." Inside you are raging. You've been kidnapped, controlled, humiliated and you can still taste him in your mouth. You decide to lay low and keep an ear out for opportunities to break his spell, or whatever the hell is in this collar.

"Get inside and take off your clothes, leaving the jewelry on," he orders you. Clearly he's being careful with his words.

"Yes, Master." At the very least, once inside you can gather more intel on your options. You remove your clothes, leaving the collar in place, though some of the dangles almost get caught on your shirt.

"And make sure you fold up your clothes, nice and neat," you hear him say from behind you, still in the garage.

"Yes, Master."

Once your clothes are off and neatly folded, your body goes into standby mode again, waiting for the next command. Andy circles you several times. If you'd had any control you'd at leas try to cover yourself. Instead, he's getting to see everything. You itch to smack that smug smile off of his face.

"I can't believe you resisted me for so long," he coos. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, I genuinely tried to go about this the traditional way, but you fought me for so long, I had to go another route." He cups your face in his hands and moves you to look at him. "But we're together now and I promise to make you so happy you'll never want to leave me."

If you had the ability you'd scoff at him.

"Now, let's get you properly dressed up," he sighs as he gropes your breasts. "I have some more appropriate attire for you in the bedroom. Follow me."

"Yes, Master." Looking to test the limits of this magic, you think, I wasn't told I couldn't look around. Frustratingly, your eyes remained locked in place, staring at Andy's back. He didn't say how quickly to follow him, you try. You're rewarded by taking slower steps than you were before. I'm limited by what he says, but I clearly don't have to be told to do things like blink or breathe.

Inside the bedroom Andy moves you to the stand in front of the closet and tells you to stay. "I think you're going to like what I have for you," he grins. "It's nothing like what you normally wear, it's so much better." He opens the closet and you feel a fresh wave of hatred. It's full of dresses and skirts. All so much shorter than anything you'd ever wear voluntarily. "I know I've told you how beautiful you'd look in these kinds of clothes. Maybe once you see yourself, you'll believe me. Maybe even thank me for opening your eyes."

He grabs a pink cami dress with butterflies on it. "I think this will be a good match for you collar. Be a good girl and put it on."

"Yes, Master." The fabric feels soft in your hands. You already suspect it won't fit you properly, clearly designed for someone with a skinnier waist. Sure enough, you can feel some of the seams start ripping as you put it on. Again you let yourself take some joy in the frustration written all over Andy's face.

"Well, we'll definitely have to adjust your diet," he gripes. You feel another wave of rage at his words. You worked hard to be comfortable with your body. You're not about to let this asshole undo all of that because he thinks you should look differently. If you get the chance you'll happily leave scars on face. See how he likes being judged. He does a double take and you wonder if he can see the fire in your eyes. His face hardens again and he growls, "be a good girl and tell me what you'd like to wear."

"Whatever you'd like me to wear, Master." Of course that's why he'd ask. It's a reminder to you that he's in charge.

"Remember that," he glares at you. You're sure it's meant to intimidate, make you feel helpless, but you will never stop hating this man, this creature. He must see the defiance in your eyes because he straightens himself up and says, "bad girl."

This time, you're ready. It still hurts enough that your body collapses on the floor and your mouth opens in a silent scream again. Your body writhes in pain and flails about. He wants to say I'm a bad girl, so I'm going to be bad! Your hand reaches up to the collar and, before Andy realizes what's happening, you rip off one of the dangling gems. The pain is lessened and Andy starts shouting at you to stop, but you've got leverage now.

It takes everything you have to resist him. You don't ignore the pain, you use it to fuel the hatred that gives you strength. He grabs your hand to stop you from removing another gem and you bite his hand, causing him to let go. I'll show you how much of a bad girl I can be. You break off another gem and the pain eases even more. Using the energy from the sudden relief, you push yourself to fully remove the collar. Andy grabs your hands to stop you, hold you in place, but you're so close to freedom!

"You can still be a good girl," he comments. "I could be so good for you." You gather your strength and headbutt him, forcing him to let go, giving you the break you need to remove the damned collar. You lay there for a moment, relieved to no longer be hurting, reveling in Andy's complaints about you breaking his nose.

Your attempts to move are interrupted by someone clapping. Looking up you see what looks like a man with dark brown hair, blue eyes, a pronounced mustache with a good amount of stubble. He's wearing slacks with a button up shirt and tie. Andy looks at him and immediately starts trying to crawl away. You blink and the "man" is next to Andy, holding him up by his neck.

"Well, Andrew, it looks like you didn't keep your end of the deal."

"Please, Walker, I...she...it's..." Andy stops as the other man's knuckles go whiter. You can only imagine the force Andy's being choked with and you're enjoying it.

"Shhh," Walker shakes his head at Andy. "The deal was, I give you the tools you ask for, and break the spirit of the one who fed your hatred. The hatred that feeds me and my power. It would have been a glorious testament to your devotion to master your rage in such a manner. Yet, here we are." Without looking away from Andy, he points to you. "She's nowhere near broken. You didn't even have her controlled for a full day," he laughs. "If anything, she broke you."

Andy's face is a dark shade of red, you think his lips are turning blue, but you can't find yourself able to care. Suddenly he's dropped on his ass, gasping for breath. Walker snaps his fingers and Andy is bound in chains.

Walker turns to you and helps you stand up. He hums in delight as he looks you over. "So much rage. I'm genuinely impressed."

You sneer and back away from him. "You helped him," you snap. "You helped him hurt me!"

"I am a demon, my dear," he grins. "It's what I do. But clearly I chose the wrong mortal." He goes to grab your chin and you pull away, making him chuckle. "Such delicious energy," he comments as his eyes turn fiery. "Let me offer you a deal."

The room shifts and distorts until it looks like you're in an office. Walker takes a seat at his desk and motions for you to sit across from him. Warily you take a seat. You look at Andy who's still chained up and looking very scared and your nostrils flare.

"Mmmmm, such delicious energy," Walker comments. "Now, as for the deal, I'd like to offer you a couple of options. I'm normally not so generous, but you are certainly something special."

"You don't have anything I want," you spit.

He grins, "I have Andy. And I can give you control over his punishment for breaking my deal with him."

"I'm listening."

"Normally I would just offer you the option of being my acolyte. Letting your rage loose on the world in my name and feeding me power through that. But there's something about you that makes me want to give you another offer: Be my bride."

You scoff, "this is a lose-lose for me. Either way all I get is to hurt him while taking on a new 'master'. I'll pass."

"As my bride, you get to hurt him for eternity," Walker counters. "And not just him. All others who have done as he sought to do to you."

That gives you pause. "And if I only choose to be your acolyte?"

"Then you only get to hurt them for as long as they're alive," he explains. "But you will be given the means to hunt them down, trap them, and break them."

"But in both cases, I am bound to you. I appreciate the offer, the compliments, but I'll pass." You look over to Andrew, "I'm not interested in being bound to anyone."

The office disappears and you're back at Andy's house. Walker looks a little chagrined at the declined offer. He hands you a business card, "if you ever change your mind, let me know. In the meantime," he snaps his fingers and Andy is magically moved into a standing position. "I have some business to take care of."

You smile at Andy as tears form in his eyes. "Not quite the metamorphosis you were hoping for, is it?"

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[affectionatecorpse]

Okay so I see some people are debating what the monster from Still Wakes the Deep is. I'm inspired by the support from my Death Angel post, so I'm gonna try giving an analysis. Now science is not my strong suit, I'm much better at zoology, but here we go.

Of course, spoilers ahead!

So, the entity comes to light in act one. While Caz is being yelled at by his power drunk boss, Rennick, a worker going by the name Gibbo calls up to say there's an issue with the drill, something highlighted earlier by another worker. Rennick orders the drilling anyway, and thus begins the nightmare, as the drill seems to unearth and awaken a destructive parasite out for revenge. But I don't think that's as deep as it goes, pun intended.

Let's say, the creature is a parasite. A form of near sentient bacteria, though take that description with a grain of salt, I'm no scientist. Parasites simply cannot live on their own. That's an objective fact. They need a host. They exist within another for survival and breeding purposes, and multiply and spread through the body of another.

Parasites, bacteria and even fungi can live underground for years, and have been discovered to do so. Ancient lifeforms have been discovered just under the surface of earth, let alone deep underneath the ground and in the bottom of our oceans, one of the most complex and diverse biomes that our current science has barely scratched the surface of. It's highly likely this creature is a self replicating bacteria or parasite that was unearthed by the drill, and took up new hosts to survive in this change of environment.

But not every host worked. You can see half transformed, mutilated bodies everywhere, and some that haven't even changed at all. These bodies could not support the parasite and shortly died.

However, a few select hosts DID end up surviving; Gibbo, Muir, Rennick, Addair and Trots. It's unclear what sets these people apart from the others, and I don't know enough about this topic to claim an answer. But I certainly do think these folks died soon into the transformation, and are not fully conscious in the body. They frequently repeat terms and phrases, and never say anything you might expect from an entity possessing them, implying it's borrowing words and sentences that have been said by the host before, in other circumstances.

The entity plays with Caz's memories and definitely the others' too, though not all of them good. It wouldn't be a surprise to realise that's where it's getting information about it's host, as it reads the memories inside the brain to learn faces, names, and even the host's personality. Which makes me wonder, does it even realise what it looks like? Does the creature itself actually realise it's a parasite? Or does it completely and fully believe it is the person it's connected itself to? It almost downloads their personality and tries to pretend like everything is completely normal.

Let's talk about arguably the best monster (in my opinion), Muir. Muir moves about the area he frequently worked as what I assume was an engineer. He roams the familiar ground, almost unsure of why he's by himself. He often calls out to his coworkers, wondering out loud why they're treating him like he's different. Sure, this could be the real Muir's consciousness slipping in and out of the seams, but it's highly unlikely he would still be alive. Much like the zombie fungus, as it's often called, the host is not alive when the fungus is controlling it, and is merely a puppet. If the spiders it was corrupting could talk, I daresay, they'd be acting like them. Taking their place in the world, even if they don't realise it.

But every animal needs to eat. And eventually, that body is going to run out of tasty, tasty neurons. Like I said earlier, a parasite needs to spread. It'll breed, then spread to another to keep it's species alive. By infiltrating a 'pack' of animals, it will take anything to spread to the others. Which is exactly what the parasite does whenever it sees another human. Either that, or it will consume them, theoretically to feed the host so it stays alive, while keeping those tasty, tasty neurons for itself. You can almost see this process with Innes, as the elevator ascends without him, and you just faintly see Muir doing something in the distance. Likely consuming him for nutrients, as he was not connected to the parasite yet.

Next, there's Addair.

Addair, much like Muir, patrols familiar ground. Even though Addair himself wasn't even in that area when the drill struck. Now Muir was actively in that familiar space in the beginning, and it's safe to assume that's his place of transformation. But Addair was eating in the cafeteria when the incident happened, not deep down in the engine. Did he go down when the impact happened, while Caz was unconscious? Maybe. But the lights were fine then, and the engine wasn't the problem, so he didn't need a reason to. Plus, he doesn't seem like the type to be work dedicated, more inconvenience dedicated. Considering what I said about the parasite (badly) taking their place in society, did it go to his place of work after detecting that as his 'natural environment', per se?

Plus, unlike Muir, who greets the situation with quotes of confusion, fear and anxiety, Addair is instantly aggressive. Even an asshole like Addair is likely to panic if conscious in this situation, so the nervousness was Gibbo and Muir exclusive. But Addair and Rennick become immediately angry upon seeing Caz, as they actively disliked him in life, and so the parasite processes him as a foe to it's host. I thought that was neat.

Now another take I have admittedly heard from several other people, but I thought was worth mentioning. The monsters are incredibly similar to sea creatures. Which means this underwater bacteria was possibly leaking out already, and transforming our animals, not enough to completely corrupt them, but enough to twist their bodies. Think of the appearances of deep, deep sea creatures, such as the anglerfish. Isn't it possible this parasite was responsible for their uncanny appearance, in this universe? Muir especially looks like a spider crab, or perhaps even a bigfin squid.

Which again, is a deep sea creature. Rennick also reminds me of a blobfish once removed from the pressure of the deep sea. Addair seems very jellyfish-like, but may be something else very... tick-like. And even Trots gives me major merfolk vibes, with how untouched his torso is in comparison to his lower half.

This parasite could have been feeding off the neurons and breeding through our very ecosystem as the ground slowly gave away above it. The drill unearthing the source likely gave it a burst of control as so much energy was released at once, hence why it was so fast to literally spiral out of control.

But Scotland, by all means, is not the only place in the world connected to the ocean. Sure, they destroyed this batch, but other forms of this parasite live on elsewhere on earth. And the explosion may not have even destroyed it. It definitely would've destroyed the host bodies, yes, but certain bacterias can survive impressive damage, even heat hot enough to burn off human flesh. We'd best hope this is not one of those bacterias.

I didn't really get as far with this observation as I did with other horror studies, but I had fun nonetheless! Like I said, I'm really better with zoology (hence the sudden enthusiasm when I started on sea creatures), but I loved Still Wakes the Deep SO much that I just wanted to write down my thoughts. If you have any other theories, feel free to add them!

Also if I used your pictures/gifs and you would like me to add credit, I am so so sorry, I will absolutely add that as soon as you say so, I just got most of these off Google and couldn't find most the original sources. So yeah if you'd like me to add your name and mention, or you want me to remove it in general, feel free to just say and I'll add it, I don't bite I promise. Well... I won't bite YOU.

Sorry sorry, had to make a zombie reference--

[chrollosbm]

Satoru Gojo is into Some Weird Roleplay (Christmas Smut)

art cr: glowx_21 on x

hey idk what this is LMAOO. i thought of this randomly bc gojo reminds me of a certain christmas character so i just ran with it! he's one of my three husbands who i love so much so i wanted to write about him. i'm so feral for him it's not even funny. anyways, i hope you enjoy and don't take it too seriously, unless you want to idc! mdni.

domestic gojo, husband gojo, dad gojo

female reader, no description of her features but i’m black so

warnings: piv sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, satoru won't shut up, dom gojo

i'm on ao3, pls support me there too!

wc: 1500+

“Satoru,” You surprised yourself in the way you were able to let out a single word with his unrelenting thrusts. “Baby. P-please slow down.” 

The man who was currently plummeting into you from behind let out a click of his tongue, ignoring your request and instead opted with a loud and hard smack to your ass, his pace somehow getting faster and harder. His hips were ruthless against the fat of your ass, creating clapping noises throughout the large bedroom.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” He let out breathlessly, his tone as playful as ever, waiting for you to address him the right way.

You wanted to reach back and knock some sense into him, tell him to slow his thrusts before he knocked the wind out of you and woke up the children. His deep and powerful thrusts prohibited you from saying much though, with his fat cock reaching your g-spot so effortlessly that you were seeing stars.

If you could roll your eyes right now you would, but your body seemed to forget how to function, only capable of following the orders of your ridiculous but gorgeous husband behind you. “Saint Nick…please.” It would’ve sounded ridiculous to you if you weren’t being plummeted to Neptune with each touch of your gummy spot deep within you, but you were being fucked so stupid that you would call him God if he asked. “You don’t wanna wake up the little elves do you?” You played along as you continued panting, fingers grasping the silk sheets tightly, tears in your eyes from the intense pleasure.

You thought he was ignoring you again, with his long fingers digging deeper into your hips before he slowed his pace, deciding on an unhurried, rough one, sliding in and out of those warm, wet walls of yours with a long and drawn out “fuuuuuck,” leaving his mouth. “The elves are fast asleep, baby. Don’t worry about them, just take Santa’s dick, mmkay’?” His voice was jolly as ever, just like Santa Claus himself, and you would’ve laughed if his cock wasn’t basically touching your brain at this point. You could only let out small whimpers as he arched your back further, reaching only a place he could.

Why you agreed on letting your dear husband roleplay as Santa was beyond you, but Satoru had a way with words. All he had to do was promise to make you feel good, make you cum all night long, pretty please baby, in that convincing, deep voice of his, a pout on his features, those bright blue eyes begging, so how could you say no? 

You should have made some more conditions, one being to say no to the bells he had attached to the bed frame, with them ringing with each jerk of his hips, creating an impossibly loud jingle. He said it would get the two of you in the “Christmas spirit,” with the bed decorated in lights and ringing balls, sounding like a real sleigh everytime the bed hit the wall in full force. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Satoru pulling himself out of you, leaving you empty and missing him already, causing a whine to leave your lips as he flipped you over as if you weighed nothing, before settling in between your legs again. You were faced with the beautiful man you were so grateful to call yours, his cerulean orbs were darkened somehow as they stared into yours, looking dazed and drunk off your pussy, his pupils slightly dilated. His pretty white follicles were tucked into a red santa hat, the puffy ball tossed on the side, sweat trickling from his temples from wrecking your insides. He had that adorable, innocent smile on his face, as if he wasn’t guilty of talking you into this comical predicament in the first place. 

“Will Mrs. Claus let me put the beard on again?” He let out, a pout forming on his pink lips, glossy from sweat and saliva.

“No, don’t ask again!” You almost yelled, your face scrunched in annoyance and he let out a booming laugh at your immediate response. 

Satoru did have a cheap, plastic beard that matched his white hair perfectly, but you made him take it off for a couple reasons. One being it looked terrible. As beautiful as the man above you was as he was staring down at you, shallow breaths coming from his perfectly shaped, rock hard abdomen, and his rosy cheeks, the beard made him look…creepy. Two being it was damn itchy. He had been going down on you when he had it on, but it was impossible for you to focus on his holy tongue work and perfect movements of his fingers, curving into you, hitting that spot that had you crying out his name for the night (fucking Saint Nick.) Once it began scratching your legs painfully, you’d forced him to take it off, which he did with a whine, throwing the damp, shitty excuse for a beard across the bedroom floor, before making you cum from his tongue alone, more than once.

Your husband’s wide grin was replaced with something immodest as he gripped your thighs, pulling you forward, and slipped inside torturously slow, earning a gasp from the both of you. His head was thrown back and his lip was caught in his teeth, causing your pussy to throb from both the feeling of warmth and fullness again, and Satoru’s effortless way of making you feel hot inside just by simple facial expressions, subsequently making a groan escape his lips before sinking into you completely, touching your gummy spot immediately with the angle he entered.

He kept your legs apart as he thrust into you forcefully and fast-paced again, with you giving no complaints this time about the commotion the jingling bed frame was causing. You didn’t care, for he was taking you to heaven in this position, goosebumps erupting from your skin and seeing black dots in your vision with each time he reached a new depth inside you. Your cunt was competing with the loud noises of those stupid fucking bells as it made sloshing noises throughout the room, and when you looked down, you could see your juices dripping onto his pretty, pale, absolutely perfect cock. 

As if he could read your mind, he spoke for you. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. My god.” His head was no longer tilted back, but also looking down as your tight, slippery cunt sucked in his dick, a feral look on his features, absolutely enamored by the sight. His pace never let up, his hips moving at the speed of light almost as he used one hand to press on your lower stomach, making it feel better than you thought possible. “You feel me in there? You feel Santa’s cock abusing this perfect little cunt?” His goofy grin returned and you couldn’t do anything but let out a loud moan of approval, face twisted up, still entertaining his mess because this just felt too fucking good. 

His hand moved from your tummy to focus on your clit, fingers rubbing small, soft circles, completely catching you off guard. Your legs began to tremble from the insane pleasure you were feeling, hands clenching the sheets so hard again you were surprised they didn’t come off the corners of the bed. 

“Can I make you a mommy again? Put another little helper in this belly?” That feral look was in his eyes again, tone as light as ever, as he slowed down, choosing a rough ram motion, causing your tits to jiggle at the change of pace, making Satoru groan at the sight, mouth halfway open. You didn’t know if it was the mind fog you felt from him fucking you brainless, but you nodded vigorously as tears fell down your cheeks, that white hot feeling in your veins approaching, mind so numb you would probably agree to having ten more of his white-haired, blue-eyed children. The two of your already had four, three you’d birthed and one you adopted, but you didn’t care right now, you felt like he had seriously taken you to the North Pole with the way his cock was basically fucking your guts.

His infamous smile returned before leaning down to place his lips on yours, barely kissing you, just sticking his minty tongue in your mouth and panting, speaking incoherent sentences along the lines of you being a “good girl,” and “taking his load so well.” You couldn’t comprehend a thing anyway, as your body began convulsing, washing over with relief as your orgasm was drawn out of you, long and bone shattering, with your back arching off the bed with a squeal that was hard to keep inside your body.

Satoru wasn’t too far behind you, with his eyes closed tightly, as his hips began twitching, the first time all night they didn’t have a consistent rhythm and he groaned out loudly, spurting long, hot ropes of his cum inside you.

His eyes opened soon after, those beautiful blue orbs staring at you adoringly with his signature wide grin on his face, in which you returned, panting heavily, so thankful for this beautiful, insane, goofy husband of yours. He grabbed the comforter and placed it over the two of you, kissing your lips softly, his breath heavy as the two of you exchanged small “i love you’s” back and forth.

“Mommy?” A small voice came from the corner of the room and your heart dropped, recognizing it as your three year old daughter’s, afraid of what she might’ve seen. Satoru hid under the covers, his hat coming off in the process and you had a full view of her now, with her candy cane nightgown and teddy bear in her arms, her lip quivering with tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, ready to get up and comfort your youngest, afraid something happened as it was past midnight on Christmas Eve. God, did the bells wake her up?

She stomped out the room before you could get up, wailing and yelling for her older brother. “Megumi! Mommy was kissing Santa!” Her cries could be heard throughout the entire house and you knew everyone would be awake by now.

Satoru’s loud laugh could also be heard throughout the entire house, its jollyness rivaling Saint Nick himself. 

my masterlist!

[suzukiblu]

WIP guessing game: help

"I know about Billy, Marvel," Batman says, and Billy . . . blinks.

"You know?!" he sputters. Okay, so apparently his secret identity was just . . . literally never a secret at all, then. Which, well–Batman, so that just figures, really. So actually this is kind of a relief and might even mean that he's fine with–

"Yes," Batman confirms with a nod. "So I understand your current reservations about parenthood."

. . . wait what.

"Huh?" Billy says, blinking stupidly at him.

"I don't know how much of you is still C.C. Batson or what you do or don't remember about being him," Batman says. "But the resemblance is undeniable, if nothing else. Certainly your and your wife's deaths were . . . well, suspicious. And you're hardly the first archeologists to dig up a god or six."

Oh, okay. Well.

This is apparently what Billy gets for his personal mental image of a "hero" being his dad, then, isn't it.

Crap.

"To be honest I've been looking for Billy for a while now, I just didn't want to bring it up before I found him," Batman admits, looking dissatisfied with himself. "My most recent reliable intel puts him in Fawcett City, but I assume you're aware of that, given your evident attachment to the place."

"You're looking for Billy?" Billy asks incredulously. "Why?"

"Because he's your son," Batman says. "And because he's a homeless child who's been abused and neglected and needs help. I honestly don't know where you go when you're not being Captain Marvel–frankly I'm not sure if you even exist when you're not being Captain Marvel, given what little I actually know about your powers and your death and your role as the Champion of Magic and just how damn impossible you are to find when you're off-duty–but I'm assuming that wherever it happens to be is not necessarily conducive to providing a stable home environment and being legally dead certainly can't be helping with that, so my original intention was to find the boy and help you arrange some manner of care for and visitation with him. And given the revelation of your relation to Robin, well . . . I'd like to take Billy in myself, if you'd both be comfortable with that. It seems . . . appropriate, under the circumstances."

"You want to foster Billy because I'm Robin's soulmate?" Billy says, absolutely positive that he's misunderstood literally every single word that just came out of Batman's mouth. There is no possible way that he did not.

"It's not exactly out of my wheelhouse," Batman replies wryly. "Although I'll be keeping this one out of the tights, ideally. Though I make no long-term promises about that because quite frankly at this point I'm spoiled for soulmates who insist on wearing capes and I wouldn't really be surprised to turn up another one, especially given that Robin is yours and your own involvement in the superhero community."

Billy stares at him.

"Wait, are all the Gotham vigilantes your soulkids?" he blurts unthinkingly.

"Not all," Batman says. "But, well . . . probably more of them than you'd expect."

"Oh my god," Billy says in disbelief. "And you're just telling me that?! You don't tell people things, you're Batman!"

"I haven't always been the father I should have been," Batman says, and then he pulls down his cowl. Billy chokes, and then chokes again because apparently Batman is Bruce freaking Wayne and his brain just . . . just needs a moment to process that fact, like there is literally any way whatsoever that he could ever actually process that fact. He would've been less surprised to see a Kardashian under that mask, he's pretty sure. At least they've got athletes in the family, technically! "So I'm not going to make things difficult for you with Robin. Clearly he needs more than I'm capable of providing, and I'm perfectly willing to be transparent and to co-parent with you as much as possible. I want Robin to be safe and content and grow up well, and frankly put, Batson, you've proven yourself to be a good man time and again and I trust you to do what's best by our son."

Okay, well, now Billy just feels like dirt.

"You do know what happened to Billy, don't you?" he asks just a little bit desperately, because there is literally no way that this conversation is a real and actual thing that's really and actually happening. "Like, just–everything that happened there? There's a reason he's not in school or the system or with a relative or anything like that."

"What happened to Billy wasn't your fault," Batman tells him, meeting his eyes all quiet and intent and sincere. "And I will do everything in my power to help you make it right."

"Oh no, you're actually like . . . just genuinely a really good person, aren't you," Billy says despairingly, staring at him all over again and really, really wishing he could swear right now.

Maybe he'll just go throw himself into the sun. Maybe that's what he'll just go and do.

The corner of Batman's mouth quirks up wryly. His eyes even crinkle a little, which Billy can see on account of his total lack of cowl right now, oh god.

Billy despairs.

"I mean it," Batman says gently. "It wasn't your fault, and it doesn't mean you can't be a good father now."

"I need to talk to Robin," Billy says, because he definitely, definitely needs to talk to Robin. Batman inclines his head in an accepting nod, because Batman is probably under the impression that Billy wants to go give Robin a good ol' traditional "I know I'm not your biodad but I'm here for you, champ!" kind of speech, and Billy just . . . really cannot explain the real situation to him right now. Or ever.

Can he just lie to Batman for the rest of their lives, maybe? He can just pretend to be his own dad for the Justice League and keep dodging whatever Bat-surveillance happens to be in Fawcett and parent his older-than-he-is soulmate, right? That's a thing that he can do?

That's probably not a thing that he can do.

Although he might be willing to try, at this point.

[irazai]

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 IN THIS MOMENT, WE BELONG TO EACH OTHER ; a fyodor dostoyevsky drabble. ❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . oh myyy, fyodor being soft is a forbidden fruit tbf.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; husband!fyodor, soft!fyodor, fem!reader, wife!reader, ex-ballerina!reader, angst (little), fluff, a bit suggestive.

fyodor knows he isn't a good man by any means. perhaps some time in the future his actions and goals will be understood but in the current timeline, he is a terrorist and the antagonist who the heroes will defeat to save the world.

perhaps he is the antagonist and antagonists never have a happy ending.

but why does he have happiness which he doesn't deserve and even if he has it then why does his brain not let him enjoy it to the fullest? why is the fear of you being taken away from him plague his mind whenever he looks at you?

he knows it's inevitable but for now, fyodor decided to push the fear to the back of his mind and stare at you, in awe perhaps, you don't know as reading the expression and emotions of your husband is something you've not completely mastered yet.

you stopped moving as you stared down at his sitting form, to see your husband who never really leaves his home office sitting on the floor as he watches you try to remember the moves from your most famous ballet (the black swan) -- you were fortunate enough to perform in -- for fyodor is a sight you never thought would come true but alas it did.

"you are not paying attention to me fedya." you point out as you stop right infront of the man who stares up at you with a small, soft smile on his face and eyes which are a bit too uncharacteristic for him. for everyone who had ever crossed paths with fyodor will tell his eyes are sharp and seductive but not soft and filled to the brim with fondness like they are now.

"i am, love." his voice sounded amused as he spoke and titled his head up at you. you place your hands on your hips as you furrow your eyebrows. it's embarrassing enough that you can't strech or aren't as flexible as when you were still a ballerina but the cheery on top is the way fyodor stared at you, not even the sound of a praise leaving his lips.

"you think you are funny fedya?" you huff as you try to turn around to walk away, half in embarrassment and half to tease him but before you could walk away, fyodor grabbed the tip of your index finger to stop you. he pulled on it to make you turn around and as you did, his hand went to grasp your wrist and pulled you down on him who sat cross legged on the floor of your bedroom.

you plopped down right on his thigh, fyodor hissed as the impact perhaps crushed his cock a bit but he soon recovered and hid his face on your shoulder. "so pretty. like a angel send from the heavens to grace me and the other scums." he whispered.

for how powerful of a man he may be, every man is weak when he fell in love.

"it wasn't that good. i definitely got a bit crusty --"

"love you made me speechless. i sat here for ten minutes, unable to speak and unable to form any words because how can i possibly describe the emotions i feel on seeing my beautiful wife dancing for me." fyodor spoke up with a certain soft glint in his eyes that makes your lips strech unconsciously as you smile. the words you were craving for are finally here to satisfy your hunger and stop the pit of insecurities from eating you alive.

you smile as you lean back to rest your head on his shoulder and fyodor hummed, raising his head as he pulled down on the sleeve of your blouse to reveal your bare skin to him, he parted his lips and you gasped out softly upon feeling his teeth sink into your skin. he lifted his head up after a few moments to look at the mark his teeth left and how the skin around turned redish pink.

fyodor raised his hand to rub his thumb over the mark he left on you and whispered quietly, his tone smug, "you looked like an angel while performing love . . . however," fyodor's hand trailed down towards your waist and he slowly lifted your blouse up, "it looks as if you need . . . some stretching. oh dear, have i left my wife frustrated for too long?"

fyodor smiled against the skin of your nape as he pecked your nape repeatedly while his hand slipped inside your shorts and you only hummed, spreading your legs for your husband and welcoming his heated touch with your own wetness.

fyodor grabbed your nape and tilted your head back to softly press his lips against yours. both of you kissed with a desperation as even if no one spoke, you both knew of the unchanging truth that he will soon leave once again for these dangerous 'business trips' he goes on for a painfully long time. and even if you never tried to pry him about it, you knew these were no ordinary business trips or else the smell of blood and death wouldn't have lingered onto him.

[little-pondhead]

[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]

…

It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.

Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.

"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"

Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"

"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"

Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."

Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"

"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.

"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"

The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."

"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.

Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"

...

"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.

"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."

"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"

"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."

Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.

Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.

So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.

Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.

Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.

Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.

But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.

Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."

Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."

"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!

Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.

Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.

Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??

...

Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.

Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.

Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.

When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.

It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.

With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.

Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.

"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.

"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.

It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.

Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.

Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."

The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.

Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."

The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.

"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."

"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."

Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"

Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.

-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-

Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.

"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"

-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-

Grim hissed.

-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-

"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"

Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."

Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."

-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-

"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."

Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"

-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-

Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."

"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."

"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"

-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-

"I'm what?"

"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."

Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"

"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."

"I would never-"

"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."

"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?

"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."

Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."

Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"

"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.

What the fuck.

[yup-i-am-weird]

I Care

Ship : Loki x GN!Reader

Synopsis : Reader attempts suicide but Loki is there to rescue them in time.

Word Count : 1061

TW : Suicide attempt, depression, self harm, panic attack, (grammatical errors?, english is not my first language) etc.

Please don't read if any of this triggers you.

You were hiding behind a soil wall you created with you elemental powers, three children none aging more than ten standing beside you as the enemies rained fire. It was in a middle of a fight when some terrorist organisation had decided to hijack a building and you guys were busy fighting them while simultaneously evacuating the building. Normally it would have been an easy task but it turned out that the organisation was linked to hydra and had got their hold on some dangerous weapons. Currently you were rescuing three kids as you tried to protect them from the attack.

"Y/N, take the kids and leave, now!", Steve said on the comms. Taking his orders you were about to leave with the kids to help them to a safer place when you spotted a man dragging himself on the floor, his head bleeding from side with his leg twisted in a uncomfortable position clearly broken, you take in the sight as the flashback of your own father's similar injury hits you, making you let out a small gasp. You continue watching the man for a couple of seconds until Clint shows up and helps the man.

The kids were still beside you, until one was not, as you turned around you heard him scream, one the terrorist had gotten to the little boy and was holding him in a tight grip, "Help me inside the building or he dies", the man said from behind the mask as the kid got more and more scared. At a distance you notice Natasha almost getting stabbed by a knife and you stop it in mid air by manipulating the wind. The terrorist on the other hand uses your distraction to his advantage shooting the kid and running inside the building with his crew. "No!", is all you could say as you hear the gunshot.

Later at the compound

"Y/N, what the hell were you thinking, you had enough time to save that kid!", Tony yells at you as you visibly wince at his words. "Tony, it's enough, leave it", Steve tries to calm him down. "I am not sure, if you see it Cap, but their distraction is evident, they are always so lost!", Tony says sharply as his words cut threw you.

Later, you go to your room, letting the weight of what just happened sink. You were a terrible person, you couldn't even get past a mission without distraction. That innocent kid did not deserve to die. It was only because of you that he was dead. He had so much life ahead of him but your recklessness got him killed. Nobody likes you. No one. You are a fool. They all hate you. You are useless.

You sat in you room thinking these things over and over, again and again as your head starts to hurt and tears start streaming down your face as you harshly grip the bed sheets, then your hair, and soon without releasing you are scratching your wrists with nails leaving small red marks all over. You are crying and feeling overwhelmed, almost on the verge of a panic attack, as you blame yourself for the boy's death and feel completely useless and unwanted. They all hate you. No one would care you if you just disappeared. Your brain tells you.

After about half an hour, you go to the roof top, deciding to end all the pain forever. You take the elevator and reach the top of the tower. A weird serenity surrounded the area which was in complete contrast to the storm inside of you, which had you trapped in it so bad that you couldn't take it anymore. You took a step forward. The sky had a tinct of pink and orange as the sun was setting, the noise from street below wasn't really audible from this height. Why was it so peaceful? Why was nature so calm when you were not. You felt more angry and hurt at the sight. You did not understand why you couldn't feel this calm and relaxed and someone else could.

You were still crying, and continued moving forward slowly till you were almost at the edge when suddenly, "Y/N! Stop! What are you doing?", you heard Loki's voice call from behind you with a sense of urgency in his voice. You turn out to find him looking frightened and concerned. "What are you doing? What are you thinking? Get away from the edge! Now!", he said still sounding panicked. "Just let me go", you say through tears. "No, I am not letting you go, i cannot", he says stepping forward, coming close to me. "No one cares, Loki, I am just a burden for everyone, i keep making mistakes, I am of no use", you say crying. "No, Y/N, I care about you, you are not a burden and this isn't the answer to anything, taking your life won't help, you can't give up", he says gently gripping my shoulders.

"I give up,Loki, I am weak, I am very weak", you say still crying hysterically. "Y/N. You. Are. Not. Weak. You are the strongest person I know, you remember you are the one who told me mistakes don't define a person, that waiting and trying can always make things better, and pain only makes us stronger, remember?", he asks looking at you with concern and gentleness as you nod your head yes. "Then why are you giving up yourself?, I know you are strong, and I care about you and always will", he says pulling you close to his chest as you cry more.

"Shhh, it will all okay, I am here, just don't try to take your life again, please, it hurts me, I don't know how will I survive without you", Loki says, his own voice breaking now, as he speaks with a hint of vulnerability. "I am sorry", is only what you can say. "Don't apologise", he says and holds you till you have calmed down, rubbing circles on your back. "I love you Y/N, I love you a lot, I cannot live without you, please stay with me", he says, shedding a couple of tears, "You, love me?", you ask little surprised, "More than you know" is all he says as he pulls you closer.

[countrymusiclover]

7 - Having a Friend

Part 8

A Wolf Among Lions

Tag list ( just ask to be added ) @tallrock35 @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea @immyowndefender @iamavailablesstuff @plaguecourier

A light summer snow fell down on the winter woods of Winterfell.  My younger brother and I were silently walking through the trees of the Godswood.  For that brief moment of silence we didn’t have to be the future Lord of Winterfell or the future Lady of House Targaryen.  We were simply Cregon and Lehna Stark. 

“So will you be marrying a girl from the South in exchange for me being shipped halfway across the world in return?” I asked my younger brother who was only the age of ten and three. 

He knew what I was talking about regardless of him not being the right age to marry yet. 

He was already being taught how to be lord by our uncle who was ruling as the current Lord of Winterfell until my brother came of the rightful age to inherit the lands and his title.  “I hope I can marry someone closer to home.  Someone that understands how we live out here.” 

“I wish I had the same option, little brother.  Sadly I must be sent off to the furthest place from the Wall and Winterfell.” I sighed heavily finely, making up my mind that I more than likely would never grow to call Kings Landing my home. 

Cregon spared me a look with a raised brow. “Most girls that I hear about would be thrilled to marry a dragon prince.  Why aren’t you, sister?” 

“I'm not happy about it because I am horrified that he will do everything in his power to change who I am.  I don't want to change my personality to try and please my soon to be Lord Husband and anyone who does is a little ridiculous in my mind.” 

Cregon chuckled, shaking his head at me with a cheeky grin on his lips.  “I pray to the gods that whoever gets your heart is prepared to handle a stubborn Northerner girl.” 

“It will surely take quite a man to be able to keep up with me.” I smirked and my brother began chasing after we had a contest to see who could get to the castle first. 

Sitting in a chair I had placed by the large window that was part of Helaena's chambers just enjoying the peaceful silence that was currently occupied in the room.  It had been a few weeks since the incident that I caused at Aegon's nameday feast.  Daemon and I hadn’t spoken to one another, not that I currently minded anymore.  I'd spoken more with Aemond before that event then I had him so this wasn't really much of a difference.  

Gently flipping to the next page in the book I kept my eyes trained on the words trying to get my brain to comprehend the strange words faster somehow.  For days on end I have been studying the different phrases of old Valyrian that I could not wanting to avoid anymore chances for me to not understand what Daemon, Rhaenyra or Aemond was saying that I couldn't understand. 

The chamber door was pushed open before I heard two sets of footsteps racing over to me with excitement and joyful voices. “Mommy!” Caraxes and Visenya both attempted to jump up in my lap at once. 

“Woah, woah, slow, slow down you two - I can't  - I can't have you both on me.” I couldn't hold back the fit of laughter that escaped my lips, having me have to quickly bookmark the page I was reading and sit it on the window seal.  Once I had done that I wrapped my arms around the two bouncing kids seated on my legs. 

Visenya gripped the fabric of the gray gown I was wearing, my eyes staring back up at me. “Mommy, come play with us.” 

“Aunt Helaena thinks you're avoiding her…and us.” Caraxes lays his head against my stomach. 

I bite my lip being able to hear the sadness in the tone of both of their voices. “Oh my babies.  I am not avoiding either of you, nor Helaena.” 

“But you are avoiding someone, right?” 

Slightly turning my head at the new voice that came with the new set of footsteps that entered through the chamber doorway coming over to the three of us by the window.  “Helaena.  I - um don’t really wish to talk about this with them.” I nudged my head down to the two children still seated in my lap. 

“Diana, is down the hall.  She can watch the children so we can talk privately if you wouldn’t mind.” The dragon princess sent me a light smile before she called for the women who came and escorted the children outside to play in a room nearby, leaving me and the princess to sit in her chambers and just simply talk to one another. “Who are you trying to avoid, Lehna?” 

Brushing hair behind my ear, sighing heavily before picking the book back up from the window seal, putting it back down in my lap.  “My husband, obviously.  Daemon and I just aren’t good together.  I - I - I don’t want to be with him, but we were wed before the gods so I suppose I have no escape from this.” 

“You will still be a part of this family.  You will marry another dragon.” Helaena nodded her head in my direction muttering under her breath. 

Knitting my brows together I wasn’t quite sure I had heard her say that sentence correctly.  “What did you just say?” 

“You will marry another dragon.” She repeated the second sentence to me. 

I silently stared at the young girl who was the most innocent person I have ever come across in my life.  She reminded me so much of myself when I was around the age of ten I believe.  I prayed that I could keep my children in the same type of perspective that she currently has or will this world take it all away from them. 

“Helaena,  do you have many friends inside the Red Keep?” I questioned the princess getting a non verbal shaking of her head no, allowing me to reach for her hand with her sitting in front of me in her own chair by the window.  “I think we should have a friend here inside of this castle and I’d like to be yours if you’ll have me.” 

Helaena squeezed my hands in hers, gently smiling.  “I’d like for you to be my friend too, Lehna.” 

“Helaena, have you seen - Lehna,  there you are.  I’ve been looking for you.” The chamber door got thrown opened causing the two of us to quickly turn our heads watching Aemond walking into the room and heading straight towards us. 

Helaena glanced over her shoulder at her brother.  “Aemond?” 

“Why were you looking for me, my prince?” I questioned him by addressing him by his title.  I didn’t feel that I should call him by his name any longer given that everyone in the room that night saw me make a physical attack on him when he tried to pull me away from Daemon. 

Aemond’s one good eye focused solely on me.  “Lehna, I wish to speak with you privately.” 

“Privately about what exactly, my prince?” I raised a brow. 

He crossed the room and I quickly rose to my feet, nearly dropping the dusty book from my hands.  Helaena closely watched our movements towards the other person.  Aemond and I were standing nearly chest to chest with one another before he reached down, taking one of my hands in his own, causing me to lock my gaze with his one good eye that was trained on my face.  “I want - I want to treat you the way my Uncle Daemon has denied you all these years.  I wish to court you properly if you’ll graciously accept.” 

“Aemond, oh I - I accept.” Sparing a glance out the corner of my eye to Helaena.  She was sporting a light smirk on her lips at the interaction going on between me and her younger brother standing before her.  I knew she was finding much enjoyment in it. 

Helaena brightly smiled seeing him lead me out of her chambers and down the hallway when she peeked her head outside the doorway. “Have fun you two.” 

[myrtles-and-blood]

Newbie confusion: Prayers

Reading The Complete Book of Demonolatry by S. Connolly.

Thanks to this book I've discovered that I've been praying wrong this whole time, not only applying in Demonolatry, but in general. I thought it was a nice poem you'd say out loud and that's it, I didn't understand why people talked about it like it was an actual offering.

Like, it's actually an exchange of energy. I'm actually giving something to them, not just saying stuff out loud. I still have a very physical view of the spiritual world (contradictory, I know), and unless I can feel the offering, make it, touch it, sense it in general, it's like I'm not doing anything.

I didn't understand offerings very well either. Like, I give you a strawberry and you spiritually eat it or what? What's happening to the strawberry, what's going on. 😦

The thing, or how I understood it, is basically that entities are energy themselves, and when you put energy into doing something with a good intention for them you're... feeding them? I don't think that's the word, but maybe in the same way a person goes to a ballet. That dancer is not doing anything for me, but their performance evokes an energy that makes me feel good.

I think I didn't really get why a deity or a demon would like to constantly receive praise and everyone to be scared of their power because "bad things happen when you don't like me" type of mentality. That's how I used to view God and that's what I thought was the norm.

I didn't get it because I wouldn't like it if people did it to me, but actually this is not what was supposed to be happening when worshipping. People pray and offer stuff because they are friends and students of their deities/demons, and they like to thank them for teaching them stuff and helping them.

When I first discovered this stuff I was like "Damn y'all talk are fucking crazy" but no, it's just they don't live with the idea that they should fear who they worship, just respect it like any other being on this earth. Believe it or not I thought this was stupid until later on.

Nothing more to add, actually. I wanted to make a post about my discovery and my view as a newbie in spirituality, because I'm more new to this than I thought I was. My head works in mysterious ways.

I'll definitely incorporate this new knowledge and see how I can make my brain think I'm doing something and not just saying meaningless stuff out loud, I may or may not update. 👍🏻

Small disclaimer: I don't hate God currently, but according to everything that I saw and heard at church I thought he was meant to be feared, and my small kid brain didn't really think that was nice so I stopped believing in him and started being an absolute hater. I stopped after a while and discovered witchcraft.

I'd love to hear that I'm not the only one who had a weird perspective on this, I also love hearing other perspectives and any advice you have on this matter (with respect obviously). 🫶🏻

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for fucking around with this guy

Okay, some context. I met this guy around 4 or so years ago in a server with lots of friends and stuff. We were pretty good friends for a little.

Then he like got kind of sexual with me? I honestly thought it was a joke because there had been a long running joke in that group about things like showing titties or whatever and he always told me he was joking when I pressed the issue

Sometimes I would get really upset about it but he always showed remorse

Anyway after about 2 years of this ordeal I accidentally spilled the beans after being emotionally coerced by a friend and I wish I hadn't been

This obviously causes a big exile in our group, so he wasn't welcome anymore

They also kicked me out of their new server, which they said was "adults only" (I'm 16 but most of my friends are 18 to 22)

So I returned to the exiled friend because I honestly regretted doing all that because we had stopped doing that stuff like months before I spilled everything

Then I got into a month's long argument explaining why I should be in their server but they didn't care to listen and then tried to hold it up to a vote and clearly didn't respect me or my opinions

So I blew up at them and abandoned them forever

I was still talking to the exiled friend who we can call like Jack I guess

Jack is older than me and when he first got exiled we had a really long convo where he admitted he was into me which really surprised me and I took a few months to believe it

When I did believe it I ended up having feelings for him too but we don't want anything romantic

So now we're kind of doing fwb. Some friends I have don't know of this current situation which I'm fine with since he's very respectful, not using me, he doesn't hold any social power over me and he's not very mature

But friends who know about the 2 year thing call him a pedophile (which makes no sense, pedophilia a brain disorder that makes you into prepubescent kids) and a groomer (he didn't isolate me, ever say I was so mature, tell me to keep it a secret etc etc) and it makes me mad because words have meaning and I feel like they're dismissing me having autonomy and emotion to just wanna suck some hot guys dick

But they all think I'm low-key the AH for fucking around with him and still being his friend and not letting them save me or wtv despite not wanting to include me anymore so am I

What are these acronyms?

[jellyclogs]

hi, brooke here! <3

could i request ace helping the reader, who is having a migraine? I'm currently struggling with one myself and that would be much comfort!

feel free to be as creative as you'd like 🐝✨

not gonna lie I didn't see this ask till yesterday sorry about not replying sooner. and as some one who deals with chronic migraines, I'm sorry you've been going through it. I hope they have been getting better and I hope you enjoy the story.

Word count 1.3k

trigger warnings: Migraine, cussing, mentions of panic attacks

A Migraine

I could feel it since this morning. Just a dull ache in the back of my head. I knew it was only a matter of time before a migraine decided to strike me. I managed to get through my normal daily chores before my vision began to blur. The only reason id been able to complete my chores was because it was all muscle memory. If id had to put any real thought into it I'd be more than a little lost. I couldn't focus on anything and my thoughts were flowing like syrup through frozen pipes.

I stepped away from the laundry and closed my eyes. Yeah even with the excessive amounts of ibuprofen and acetaminophen I had taken I needed to go lay down. I turned to Banshee, she had been the only other female on the spades with me. After Pops just kinda claimed Ace as one of his we followed Ace to the whitebeard pirates. “I'm sorry to leave you when we still have work to do but if I don't go lay down I think my brain might selfdistrict.”

Banshee turned to me, “Sweetheart it's not a problem. You've looked like shit all morning I was wondering when you'd tap out.” she smiled at me. “But didn't think asking why you look like a walking corpse would help nun.” we’d been crew members for years, she knew my struggles with migraines. “Plus it's not like this is a hangover and you did it to yourself,” she added.

“Yeah nope, definitely not a hangover, and by god I feel like one.” I gave her a pathetic smile, “But still, I owe you one.” I turned to walk to the door my hand on the wall as I walked. My head was spinning. Though I knew could handle a little tumble I didn't see the need to worry the crew.

“Don't worry about it. And do you want me to walk you back to your dorm? How steady are you on your feet?” she asked in a motherly tone.

“I'll be fine But thanks Banshee.” I waved her by as I left the room. I didn't need to take her away from the work that was left.

I picked my way threw the ship trying to avoid the louder parts. Sadly my room was right next to the mess hall, no matter what time it was the mess hall was always packed full and loud enough to make the floor boards of the ship shake. I winced knowing I'd have to walk past the mess hall's doors to get to my room. The noise would be loud enough to take my balance completely away and my vision would be fucked. I braced myself for a moment, checking one last time if the way was clear before, closing my eyes, and rushing to pass the doors.

I slammed straight into someone. Someone who was much steadier on their feet. Before I was sent to the floor a set of hands grabbed my shoulders and stopped me from falling. “You ok?” Ace called over the noise of the mess hall. His grip on my shoulders was firm but not harsh.

My hands came to cling onto his arms. The noise was overwhelming, like I'd thought My balance was gone and my vision went with it. I couldn't quite manage to speak so I just shook my head no. I wasn't hurt but I definitely wasn't ok.

Ace pulled me over to my room’s door.  Helping me inside, “Is this a panic attack or a migraine?” he asked in a soft calming voice barely above a whisper. I couldn't help but smile at the question. Seeing as my head was a box of fucked up, and either were possible (plus both could take my speech away)  it was a reasonable question.

I took a moment to take a deep breath and take in the quiet of my room, “Migraine.” I croaked out. With the blare of the mess hall gone some of my brain power was coming back.

“Have you taken anything for it?” he asked sounding slightly relieved. I don't blame him. Migraines were easier to deal with than panic attacks. He helped me over to my bed helping me sit down.

“More than Marco would be happy with,” I joked, giving him a smile hoping it would calm him down slightly. I could feel the way his heart was racing well he was holding me. Ace was good at keeping a calm face when he was panicked, but his heart always gave him away. With his tough exterior, it might surprise people how much of a softy he is when it comes to his crew.  He feels helpless and panicky when the people he cares about are hurt.

“Ok since I'm not a doctor I won't scold you for that,” he sighed but I could hear the smile in his voice. He was calming down now that he knew what was wrong and how to help, “how about water?” he asked walking over to my curtains and drawing them close.

“I could use a glass.” I shifted from sitting on my bed to lying down. If it were anyone else I might have just said I was fine, but with Ace I couldn't.  With ace, I knew he’d feel better if he was helping.

“Well then ill be back.” he paused at the doorway looking over his shoulder, “Have you eaten?” he asked.

“Yes I have,” I answered my voice muffled, I had a pillow over my face to block out more light. Not that I was looking but I could feel the questioning look he was giving me, “I had breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and orange juice… not lying, promises.” I grumbled.

“Just checking.” he chuckled, and then I heard the door open and close. A few moments later I heard the door open again. Then there were footsteps crossing my room and someone sitting down on the edge of my bed. “You gonna sit up or just spill water all over yourself?” Ace asked in a slightly teasing tone.

“Sit up,” I mumbled sitting up and leaning my head against one of his shoulders.

“Good.” he brought a cup of water to my lips. He let me grab hold of the water cup before letting go. If I was feeling less shitty I might have enjoyed how close he was to me. He waited for me to finish drinking the water before asking, “You want heat or ice on the back of your neck?”

“Heat.” some heat on the back of my neck would definitely help. It would soothe my shoulders and hopefully convince my brain to calm down some. I wondered if he'd grabbed both an ice pack and a hot water bottle.

“You got it sunshine,” I could hear mischief in his voice but I wasn't sure why. Ace wasn't the type to mess with someone if they weren’t in good shape. Before I could ask what he had up his sleeve he was lying down in my bed with me, his arm my new pillow.

For a moment I just froze then I decided, fuck it. I shifted slightly to get comfortable. I was about to bitch that his arm wasn't going to be hot enough when I realized it was. “Guess this is one way to use your devil fruit.” I hummed.

“You want me to get you something else?” he asked in a soft hum. I could feel the hum reverberate in his chest, it was a pleasant sensation.

“Think you can stay here for a while?” I asked almost meekly. If I was being honest with myself it felt really nice to be cuddled up to Ace.

“Yeah I can stay here as long as you need me to,” he replied snuggling into me a little bit.

“Then no I don't want something else,” I closed my eyes, ready for a nap.

“You got it,” Ace answered letting me fall asleep on his arm.

[leggerefiore]

cyrus fluff crumbs,,, i beg.

maybe stemming off of you arguements/make up hcs where he tries his best to show reader he cares abt them or just whatever u feel like

cw: hurt/comfort, light fluff, angst

pairing: Cyrus/Reader

Guilt wrecked Cyrus's mind. Strong feelings – feelings in general even – his distaste was endlessly apparent as he stewed within his thoughts. Saturn had attempted to deliver and update on a mission yet stopped dead in his tracks when he caught a glance of his boss's expression. Cyrus wanted to scoff. How foolish. He could not deny that it was for the best. His plans would only sink his mood further. Everything was progressing well. He should have been content – proud even.

It felt like a punch directly to his gut. Your mortified expression… Your harsh words. The idea of a world without spirit, you had simply despised it. Feelings… He hated them, especially when they overwhelmed you. Your tears were staining the folds of his brain as you told him that existing in a world where you could not love him sounded far too hellish. He felt shame. Love… He struggled with it, yet he could not deny that he was swayed by it.

He was being swayed by it currently.

His laptop was closed. His tablet was left off to the side. He paced back and forth. Why? Why did you always have this powerful effect on him? Part of him wanted to yell at himself for height so illogical, while the other felt ready to throw away everything to make your tears stop. Leaving him… Your harsh words about leaving him haunted his mind as much as your tears. You threatened to head home, gather your things and just vanish. Cyrus's hand clenched at the leg of his uniform. Losing you… His ideal world was at the precipice of existing, but losing you.

He swallowed his pride.

No.

Losing you was absolutely not an option.

He alerted Saturn that he was taking off for the day and departed from the building. His feet carried him mindlessly back home. When was the last time he had come home? He could not recall. So much time had been spent focusing solely on his plans. You must have felt unimportant to him, too. Cyrus was not a fool. He knew well enough that losing you would ruin everything. You had been a sole comfort in this world that only wished to mock him. Through his worst moments, you had been at his side. Whenever his trauma crept into his mind, you grasped him firmly and pulled him back to reality.

He was shocked to see that you were genuinely beginning to pack things when he opened the door. His blood felt like ice. He felt as if he was floating away. You seemed shocked to see him, likely believing his words of feigned apathy. He regretted them. Why had he said them? You just stared at him, unspeaking. Within seconds, his arms were around you. His eyes were wide. When was the last time he felt this panicked? He did not want to recall that period of his life.

You stayed still for a moment longer, then let out a sigh. Your arms came around him. Only then did he feel relief. A gentle hand rubbed his back. He tried to force down the shaky breaths that had only grown more accelerated. Your voice called his name. Reality felt so far away. He needed you. Part of him hated this, yet he knew better than to reject it. Your presence alone provided a sense of peace that no where else could he find. Cyrus held you tighter to himself. He felt like a pitiful child grasping desperately at a mother's skirt. The harsh pang of feeling that the visceral image drew out made everything worse.

“Please,” the beg that left him was foreign to his usual demeanour, “Don't go.”

You reassured him that you would not leave.

His eyes met yours, distant and uncertain. Lips pressed to your own. He lost himself in you for a moment. His forehead rested on yours while you softly held his cheek. You said one simple request.

“Stop your plans.”

Cyrus felt far too weak to deny you.

His new world… He could not tell if he desired you or it more. But, this current situation pointed to you.

“For you,” was his reply. Lips pressed against your own again, silencing you.

Whether it truly was the end or not… It was impossible to tell.

For now, it was.

All he wanted was for your warm embrace and presence to surround him. You seemed more than willing to give him just that.

[super-ya-boi]

Meeting

((not an open rp, just plot progression. Written in collaboration with @dark-moon-inc and @ni0x (thank you <3)

Word count: 1153 words

Tw: self hate talk, physical violence and derealization.

There will be an important plot summary at the end if you don't want to read these topics. as well as art.))

_____

He knew going was a bad idea but he needed answers, he needed to know what happened to him. 

He stood in the tiny elevator, his nerves getting progressively stronger with every chime of the passing floors.. 

When it finally stopped and the doors opened Jon was faced with a darkly lit lab. He hasn’t hit the point of no return…he could close the elevator doors and leave…he could….but he didn’t. The lab called him in, coaxed him to go deeper. It felt familiar, like he’d seen it before. 

Jon stook a step in; looking around. He spotted a book on a desk and walked over to it, but before his hand touched the book a voice stopped him.

“Jonathan. It’s rude to snoop,” the voice belonged to a woman. Her voice was strong and mature with a bit of an unsettling undertone. 

He whipped his head around and faced the person who owned the voice. She was tall, put together, her hair slicked back into a ponytail and her lab coat stark white.  

“Come, sit, let’s have our chat,” she gestured to a table with 2 chairs. 

Jon walked over to the table and sat down, he tried to pull out all his confidence but it wasn't much and his pinned back ears revealed his anxiety. 

“Don’t be nervous. I'm not going to hurt you. You’re my greatest creation! I could never hurt you,” she said calmly. 

“...what? Creation? What…what does that mean?” Jon already hated what he was hearing. He wasn’t her ‘creation’, she didn't…make him…right?

“You didn’t think I would just let your body go, did you? With your enhanced healing you’re far too valuable to my experiments. Unfortunately I couldn't just keep you though, You have powerful people who care about you. So I made a replacement.” she explained.

…replacement…was he not real…was he not himself…

“It was quite hard actually. I didn't know how to make it so this body could be conscious at the same time as your real one was. Unfortunately I couldn't figure it out. If I had to put the current setup simply, it’s almost like playing VR. Your real body is contained here and this body feeds information to your brain and you control it.” she continued, she talked like this was a great achievement, rambling on and on. It hurt his brain, it didn't make sense, it made him sick. 

…..this body wasn't his…he was somewhere in this facility…this whole time…

“This also means all my work is done while you’re ‘asleep’. So those little ‘nightmares’ you’ve been having aren’t really nightmares, they’re just my research!It’s quite unfortunate that I have such a small window of work, but you and everyone around you won’t suspect a thing because it’s understandable that you’d have nightmares after something so traumatic.” she finished. 

That wasn’t just a nightmare?

‘All the work she’s done?’ What, torturing me!? Making me scared to sleep!? Was the first death not enough!? She has to do it again and again and again!? Over and over till he brakes?  How long was he supposed to endure this? Forever?

He didn't want that, he wanted to be himself. This wasn’t fair! His mind raced trying to understand, he couldn't take it, it was too overwhelming, he didn't know what to do with this influx of emotions…so he lashed out. 

He shot up and charged at her, he balled his hand into a fist and tried to punch her. She grabbed his fist and then threw him into a wall. 

Why was he weak…

She sighed “I knew Robin was the smarter half but I didn't think you were that dumb. Did you miss the part when I said I made you” her voice got a lot less calm and more annoyed. 

….he wanted to hurt her…he hated her…she ruined his life, his relationship…and now he finds out this isn't even really his body.

He didn’t want to be in this body. He wanted to get rid of it…but he wasn’t sure what would happen. He looked up at her.

“What if I just break the body? Would I wake up?” Jon questioned. 

 “I'm not sure, I've never had that happen. I’ve only ever disconnected you from this body, you can try but I can't guarantee you’ll wake up” she explained her tone still annoyed. 

….maybe that wouldn’t work, he didn’t want to risk anything especially since he didn’t know any of the science behind this. 

“Why’d you pick me..?” he questioned.

“At first it was because I wanted the reaction of your friend and I was bored but after I had you in my grasp I thought of all I could learn. Getting your hands on a kryptonian is hard, you know. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to study you, the way you healed, maybe i could transfer the ability somehow. I needed you.” she explained

Jon hated this. He didn’t want to be used. He gets up and watches ‘moon’. When she turned around Jon tried to attack her again, she once again threw him away, he hit the chair. 

Ow.. it shouldn’t hurt…he was supposed to be invulnerable. This wasn’t him…he wasn't him..

“I invited you into my lab and you disrespect me!? I thought you were a better kid than this” she walked over and kicked him lightly with her foot. “Maybe I should be a little rougher on you, teach you.”

No…no he didn’t want that…his..’nightmares’....were already bad enough. He didn't want it to be worse. He hated this…who was he supposed to go to after this…he didn’t have anyone to go to…if..if she had control over him. What if he hurt someone…he couldn’t do that..

He’s taken out of his thoughts when he gets kicked aggressively

..ugh…

“I think we’re done talking, I was going to try and make some sort of arrangement but I don't think you’ll comply. Let’s just stick with what we have now.” she says 

“No..I…” Jon was struggling to talk…why…no, he needed to argue. He needed to find out where his body was…

His vision started to tunnel…no..no.. he didn’t want to…no

______

When Jon woke up he was alone on a street…he looked around and then at his hands…

Is this why Damian didn't want to hold his hand at the gala…did…he know..and not tell him…

no..no he wouldn't do that…why would Jon think that…?  That was horrible of him, he was horrible.

Jon looked up again at the sky…he could hear everything…but it didn’t feel right..it felt muddled. The sky looked weird…everything felt wrong now…

it was wrong…he was wrong…that’s why this happened…why everything fell apart…

What was he gonna do…he didn’t want to go home…he didn't want to see anyone, what if he hurt them…and…he couldn’t sleep…he didn’t want to have a ‘nightmare’. 

This sucked. 

______

[image: Superboy in containment located at facility 207 owned by Dark moon inc.]

Tldr: After Jon was killed moon anon kept Jon's body and made a different one so no one would be suspicious. Moon anon is doing experiments on Jon's body and they're his “nightmares”.  Jon found out not only that his body wasn’t his but also that moon had control over his body. So he’s scared to hurt someone. And is also scared to sleep.