#i just. want. to get over this point in my life i guess. not....

[disco-wyrm]

Honestly, only @cipherbunz would know who any of these OCs are, but it looked fun to do :P if you wanna know more about them, feel free to ask, i will gladly wordvomit about them <3

tw: torture, physical & emotional ab*se, mental health issues and death.

1. I don't really have one in particular for this one? If I had to choose, it'd probably be Swan. She's a tough lady, but she's just not built for deserts and hot environments.

2. Nobu, the man doesn't really even notice most of them anyway. Could definitely see him with a couple injuries he hasn't even noticed/doesn't think they're that much of an issue. Downsides of a really good pain tolerance, I guess?

3. Maverick. Hands down, that poor bastard's been through so much lol. His fiancée gets killed by his own father, his clan is destroyed, he gets dragged into TWO wars, experimented on, and then isolates himself because he's afraid of entering cities for reasons he can't even remember. Oh, and Death won't let him die bc Fate told them to for the plot and didn't elaborate on why so he's stuck surviving all of it.

4. Onyx, by his own adopted brother at that. Arcus didn't really take Onyx's (percieved) abandonment of him very well. Both of them need therapy, yeesh...

5. Leo and his crew. They're my world-hopping pirates, and definitely not of their own choice. Leo has sworn to kill whatever fate or god has damned them to getting yoinked into different dimensions, so I should probably watch my back lol

6. Alexei. Man has a while doomed yaoi thing going on with his ex/bestie for the past millennia or so. I guess both being vampires from Shakespearean times in a cyberpunk future equals some kind of trauma bonding? They don't even realize they're still flirting, it's painful to watch, really.

7. Onyx, he's one of my oldest ocs and i love putting my lil guy in Situations.

8. Leo and his crew again, for obvious reasons

9. Aster, by a young water spirit. She healed him, and he helped care for her in return. She then taught him alchemy, something her species knows instinctively via generational memories. He's now one of the best alchemists in the region.

10. Onyx and Maverick. Both killed by family and revived for different reasons. Maverick was bc of the plot, while Onyx was revived bc his s/o made a deal with Death for him. Maverick is in denial about his immortality, while Onyx is completely unaware that he actually died.

11. Winter/Winniel. Poor guy's scared of being even slightly out of line due to the tyrant king of his homeland. And as the royal alchemist, he's pretty close to the king. The king has convinced him so much of his weakness that he doesn't dare consider rebellion, convinced that he stands no chance even though physically he could definitely take him in a fight.

12. Kipp has compartmentalized his trauma and stress from his work, putting on a cheery and almost innocent persona to put his loved ones (and himself) at ease. At this point, he's not really sure which "him" is the real him anymore.

13. Acheron, constantly. It's technically magic tears that leak out no matter what he tries, and occasionally they form into little blob crows. They are his babies and he loves them dearly.

14. I'll pick Juno for this one. He's stuck in a control spell by an evil sorceress, and she usually gets him to kill people she wants to get rid of, or sometimes even people he comes across. He hates the lack of choice, so often he makes the choice to attack them on his own. Not healthy at all, and he'd rather not, but it's the only way he knows to exert control over his life.

15. Usually "comfort after a nightmare" scenarios are my favorite. Once they're calm(er), it's usually a pretty sweet moment. Easily turns to fluff afterwards.

Torturing your ocs ask game :)

(Delightful, I know. But we all do it sometimes)

1. Which of your ocs do you most often imagine sick? In what ways?

2. Which of them do you most imagine injured in other ways?

3. Who do you put through the most emotional turmoil?

4. Which oc has been tortured? Through what means?

5. Which of them has the worst luck?

6. Who goes through the most relationship conflicts? (applies to any relationships)

7. Who do you put most into stressful situations or other drama?

8. Who ends up in survival situations the most? How do they fair in them?

9. Has any of them had to be saved from the brink of death? Were there any consequences after?

10. Has any of them had to be revived / brought back to life? How did this affect them?

11. Who is afraid the most? How does this effect them?

12. What kind of health repercussions has your oc experienced through intense stress? How do they manage them?

13. Who cries the most often? What are the usual causes?

14. How does your oc cope?

15. To cap off what kind of hurt/comfort scenarios do you put your oc in?

This can be about canon story events or simply rotating scenarios for fun!

[directdogman]

I’ve noticed that you’ve been talking about DSaF a bit again, and something I’ve always been super curious about is Dave’s relationship with Henry kinda outside of all the experimentation and the joy of creation. It’s something I don’t see discussed a lot outside of Henrys very blatant abuse. Was Henry actually very kind and empathetic towards Dave towards the beginning? Or was he always cold and distant, and Dave just didn’t know what actual care looked like? Did Dave ever have a very parasocial relationship with Henry before the circus shut down. I know this is a bit of a strange and specific ask, but I just find their dynamic really interesting. It’s something I want to explore in my au, and it’s just a very interesting part of DSaF that I don’t think is talked about enough.

Yes, it started as a parasocial relationship. Dave, as you might recall, started out by following Henry's circus around. Given he'd lived on the streets for his whole life and was used to being cold, lonely, Henry's circus was like nothing he'd seen before that point. Is it really any wonder that his end-game with the player is always going to a city of lights, bright colours + dopamine rushes? He basically followed the circus around from town to town for years, scavenging food from trash bins and getting gradually closer and closer to the main circus tent each time, and by the time he saw what was inside, he was hooked.

Henry's circus had a lot in common with Barnum's and given the 'freak show' element, I'd imagine Dave felt less alone, even though nothing Henry used was nearly as surreal as Dave himself.

Eventually Henry noticed him and he was assigned jobs like shoveling Tiger shit, usually away from guests. Henry definitely wasn't kind to Dave (they barely spoke at this point) but it outlines the second part of Dave's attachment, the feeling of being a part of something greater, being included.

Henry noted Dave's loyalty + defense of his character. I recall Dave mentions that Henry wound up being investigated for a string of murders and wound up framing the Tiger keeper at the circus, something Dave corroborated, believing the word of his distant (but providing) father figure over the guy who rushed him to finish shoveling animal shit.

By the time the investigation ended, Henry's circus had taken a bad hit, but ofc, Henry had enough money saved to go into something new and realized that Dave was trusting/devoted enough to be useful to him. Dave had some money saved up at this point and would eagerly work for free, so it was really a no-brainer on Henry's part. It's anyone's guess how long he intended to keep Dave around before using him as a patsy of some kind. It was incredibly lucky that a nightguard happened to die at their diner shortly after their first string of murders and that Henry managed to fudge the employment records to tie him to the previous 2 murders that'd happened just before this.

I don't doubt that there were occasionally 'nice' moments between the two, but I'd imagine they mostly amounted to Henry occasionally showing his business partner basic courtesy and Dave latching onto it. That and the two speaking about their pasts to some degree, which Dave likely took as the two being inseparably bonded since he wasn't used to really knowing people.

Most of Dave's perception of Henry came from his own inner loneliness, wanting to believe that someone valuable could see genuine good in him. It wasn't really backed up by anything logical, but hey. People see what they wanna see, I guess.

[xetlynn]

Can I ask for claggor x a piltover reader? She was raised in piltover and is very smart but was never ignorant to the condition of zaun and always tried her best to advocate and help the suffering people. I can imagine she would have a strong sense of guilt for loving claggor because she doesn't really understand the struggles he went through but will always try to help. <33 thank youuuu

Of course, I think I made this a little more dramatic than I meant to😭 but I hope this is good!

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

Mysterious

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: In which reader is from Piltover and makes a friend in Zaun. Feeling guilty for liking him since she doesn't understand his struggles.

My feet achingly moved seemingly before me. My back hurt as I carried a box full of stuff from Piltover to give to a friend in the undercity.

When I was younger I was so fascinated by the people of Zaun. About the difficulties they’ve been through. My mother was always bitter about them. Going on tangents about how the people from the undercity should be more grateful since everything is better now. And whenever she does that I have to remind her of their struggles to get to this wonderful position they’ve been creating for themselves. Supporting them only pisses her off further than before. She asks what about Piltover’s struggles which is never the point of my argument. 

We’re privileged enough to never know what it’s like going without food, running water and a roof being over our heads. Most of Zaun could or still to this day can not say the same. It’s something I’ve written about in school essays, joining groups to learn more about the undercity. 

As a younger teen I snuck into Zaun, wanting to understand them better, know them rather than read about their history. Hear it from the people themselves. I won’t truly ever know their struggles but I still wish to help them. Advocate for their history and their growth as a community. Help them be one with Piltover eventually without there being discourse of if they deserve it. 

Everyone deserves happiness, love, and a life without ridiculous danger. They deserve peace as much as the next person.

I was reckless when going to Zaun. Sneaking out of my house as a teen and somehow to the undercity without being caught will forever blow my mind. The reason I kept doing it though was after I sat down in this bar. It’s called The Last Drop. I just needed a place to rest after walking for miles. 

Talking with the people there. Not really a scene a young teenager should be in but I didn’t care. I just wanted to listen to their stories. And they always enjoyed having me around. Seeing me as a niece of some sort.  Hearing the first one made me want to hear more. Hence why I kept coming back. And more recently there's a new reason.

I met a new friend. His name I still don’t know. He never properly introduced himself to me. Not by his birth given name but by the first letter. He wanted me to guess. 

It’s been 3 months and he has yet to tell me what it is. Or in his words I didn't guess good enough.

I guess his father was the owner, Vander is his name. I’ve met him a few times but I never sat up at the actual bar. Just in a corner keeping to myself before I went to adventure out into Zaun after hearing random stories.

When I met C he had started working more hours at the bar to help out since it was getting busier and busier after some time with people from the Uppercity decided the place was a hit. I guess he worked earlier shifts so that’s why we never crossed paths when I first started going there. 

C and I hit it off slowly in the beginning.  

It was a rough start since we both had different upcomings. I didn’t know what it was like to have to get my hands dirty and work for things I want or need. I’ve always just… had it. 

Talking about C’s childhood and things he went through as I had nothing bad to say except for the fact that my mother is a witch of a woman. It made me realize how weird I am for being so interested in others' lives. It made me realize I don’t have a life of my own. I want to fix people who don’t need to be fixed. They’re perfect the way they are, no matter what they went through. They don’t need me to stick up for them. I also figured out that I’m falling for a friend, who again… I don’t know the name of and we will never share a similar story. He deserves someone who understands the same livelihood he knows. Someone who can appreciate things more than I ever could.

“[Name]!” A voice shouts, shaking me from my thoughts. “C!” I grin, shimmying the box in my hands. “Is this everything?” He takes it from me with furrowed eyebrows, looking it over. “Mhm, every single thing you asked for.” I place my hands on the back of my hips, stretching to crack my back. Letting out a small sigh of relief afterwards. 

“You alright?” He asks with a chuckle, leading me into his apartment that he and his brother share. “Yeah, I definitely got my exercise in for the day.” I half-heartedly joke, shutting the door behind us and he places the box down on the counter. “What is the food for, exactly?”

When he first requested the stuff from me, he told me it was for an experiment. Not really saying much after that. A few foods and then things you can really only get in Topside. 

“To eat.” He grabs an apple and bites into it. My shoulders fall, not expecting that answer. For some reason I thought it was going to be something cooler. “Oh.” I let out a breathy laugh. “I was hungry when I was putting in that request.” He rubs his stomach sadly. 

I shake my head with a smile. “It’s okay. So can I know what this project is now?” I hop up on the barstool in his kitchen. “It’s a secret.” He says briefly, putting the food away in his counters. I frown. “Dang, keeping another thing from me, C?” I tilt my head. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes, by being a mysterious, interesting man. Don’t want you getting sick of me.” He quipped, now giving me his full attention after placing the box on the ground. I glanced down at it then back to him. “I’ll always find you interesting. Maybe even more if you just tell me your name.” I pout.

Have I mentioned that I don’t know his name? No? Yeah, don’t know it. 

“Soon.” He reaches over and messes up my hair. I smack his hand away. Attempting to fix what he did. “I hope so.” I cross my arms. 

“I wish you could guess it. You didn’t even try hard enough.” He exclaims, my jaw drops at his words. “I can’t think of anything else! It has to be some sort of crazy unique name!” I utter, throwing my hands in the air. He lets out a belly laugh, “It’s not super unique.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, jokingly annoyed. “I told you my name.” I murmur. “That’s because you’re not mysterious like me.” He purses out his lips, doing a little peace sign. “I know almost everything else about you. You are not mysterious.” I point a finger at his chest. “Really? What’s my favorite color?” 

“You tell people it’s blue but it’s actually yellow. Like dandelion yellow.” I raise my brows, making a face that expresses that he should try me. “Okay, pssh, lucky guess. Favorite food?” 

“Halibut, but only when it’s fried because you’re weird.” I tease, his eyes seem to widen at my words. “See, not so mysterious, huh?” I cross my arms. “Two things. That’s all you answered.” He walks away over to the living room. Plopping down on the couch. I stand up, rushing over to him. Bouncing on the cushion beside him. My hands holding his shoulder as I shake him. “Then ask more questions. I have the answers~” I sang out, leaning back. 

“Fine, how old am I?” He raises a brow. I put a finger on my chin, pretending like I was thinking. “21.” I simply say. “Okay, I never told you that. How’d you get that?” He scrunches his nose in confusement. I laugh. “Honestly I truly guessed that time. I’m 21 and I always figured we were the same age.” I snicker. 

“Wow, okay. Next question, how many siblings do I have?” I think back to conversations we’ve had or the time I bumped into his brother Mylo. He always talks about a girl named Powder. I want to say there’s one more though. I just can’t remember…

“... three?” I estimate. “Or two.” I perk up my posture. “Hm, it’s three. You really do listen.” He hums out. “Yeah, it’s Mylo, Powder and I’m sorry but I don’t think I ever got the last one’s name.” I press my lips together, trying to rack it in my head. “Violet. She passed away when we were younger.” He sighs, I look at him through my eyelashes not wanting to make full eye contact as my heart drops.. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “It’s alright, [Name]. You didn’t know.” He gives me a smile. It goes silent between the both of us. “Um… can I ask how? If not I totally understand. I don’t want to push that topic.” I shake my hands at the thought of forcing him to say something he wasn’t comfortable with.

“We were doing a stupid thing in Piltover. Sneaking into someone’s house. Just trying to get a few things for our dad. Extra money in his pocket. Something exploded. The impact unfortunately killed Vi.” He seems spaced out as he tells the story. I reach out and grab his hand.

I remember when that incident happened. It was all anyone talked about for a while. An undercity child passes away in an explosion after breaking into a scientist’s home. My mom… was an ass about the situation. 

“Any more questions?” I make an effort to switch the conversation so he doesn’t get upset due to my questioning of his sister's death like the dumb idiot that I am.

He looks down at my hand that was on top of his. “Claggor.” He suddenly says. I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Claggor?” I question, was that something I had to answer? “My name.” He mutters out. 

My mouth goes into the shape of an 'o.' Claggor... An interesting name for an interesting man like him.

“Hm… cute. It fits you.” I squeeze his hand before letting go. I didn’t even notice the dusty rose color across his cheeks. He mutters out a small thanks before we continue the conversation of me knowing certain things about him.

The entire time I think back to his sister, my chest aching. They were only kids trying to help their father. Not knowing that one of them wasn’t going to make it back home. How devastating. 

“You okay, [Name]?” He sits up, turning his body to face me. I fake a smile, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just thinking. Sorry.” How am I supposed to be his friend if I carry guilt that has nothing to do with me? How can I like him and not be able to understand him? It’s idiotic looking. It makes me look selfish, turning other people's problems into my own. “Thinking about?” 

“Your name. How I never guessed it.” I force out a chuckle that sounds like a high pitched animal making me wince in embarrassment afterwards. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks me again. 

“I’m fine, Claggor.” His name rolls off my tongue easily. Like it was meant to be said from my lips.

“I remembered I have somewhere I need to be. My mom will kill me if I’m late. See you later?” I ask him, blinking tears away as I abruptly get up. “Um, yeah. Tomorrow?” He gets up with me, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, I can’t. Family thing.” I lied. “Oh, maybe the next night? Mylo wants me to go to this party where his crush is djing. I do not want to go.” He laughs, walking me to his front door. My stomach flips, not knowing how to respond. “Maybe, I’ll let you know the day of.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Okay, okay. I don’t mean to cling. I just like spending time with you.” He smiles softly. I avoid eye contact. “Me too, Claggor.” I whisper before pulling him into an embrace. 

He lets out a small yelp of surprise before his hands slowly snake around my waist. “You’re a good friend, [Name].” He mumbles into my shoulder. Tears begin to threaten my eyes once again. “You’re a better one.” I pat his back before letting go. “See you.” I curtly wave before leaving. 

Man, I’m an idiot. 

It’s the day of the party, I haven’t left my bed since I came home after leaving Claggor’s house. My head racing with a million thoughts about how selfish and ridiculous I am. Cringing at all the conversations I’ve had with my friends about the Undercity. How incredibly obnoxious it always sounded. 

How strange I look just being this upset about everything. I wonder if Claggor thought the same about me. How strange it was that a girl was so wrapped up into his struggles. I would never want to tell him that either because I’m overthinking. I know I am. 

He’s my friend. He would tell me if I was being over the top.

Right? 

Right.

Stop it brain. 

A knock at my door echoes in my room. “Yes?” I call out, not bothering to get up. The door creaks open. “[Name] there’s someone here to see you.” A house worker tells me. I sit up, tilting my head confused on who would be here. “Um, tell them I’ll be right down.” I say, climbing out of bed. “Yes, ma’am.”

I grab my robe from my vanity, throwing it on over my pajamas. I slip my feet into my house slippers. I look like a mess but I don't care. It’s probably just a school mate to ask about some homework we have. 

I exit my room, heading down the stairs. I see Claggor and my body freezes in place. Staring down at him. Shit. I look like a mess! And that is not a school mate. 

He was looking around my home before his eyes locked with mine. His face erupts into a smile. “Just wake up or something?” He teases and my face flushes in response. “Uh- yeah, slept in.” I awkwardly chuckle, walking towards him. “How’d you know my address?” I asked him. “Also, why are you here?” 

“Well, first I bumped into one of your friends I met before. She told me you lived here. Second ouch, I can just leave if you want me to.” He points to the front door and I roll my eyes. “Sorry, sorry. I was just wondering, I was gonna come to you.” I cross my arms, and when I do his eyes flicker down to what I’m wearing.

Suddenly I’m extremely aware of how I look. My hair a mess, face puffy, and wearing a fancy robe with slippers. Weird combination. 

“I felt like when you left yesterday it was a bit… off? You seemed like you were about to cry so I thought I’d come here and maybe talk to you about that.” He fidgets with his hands, I observe his demeanor. He seemed extremely anxious. “Oh, I told you I was fine. Might’ve had something in my eye.” I shrug lying straight out of my teeth. 

“You know how I said you are not mysterious like me?” He asks. “Vaguely.” I smile but not understanding why he’s saying that. “It’s because you aren’t a mystery at all. Maybe I’m not either since you seem to know quite a bit about me. Anyways, not the point.” He lets out a heavy breath. “You don’t hide your emotions well. You’re an open book just by looking at you.” He chuckles and I tense up, feeling a little offended. He notices and sighs.

“What I mean is, when I first met you I knew you were a very empathetic person. Your emotions are what drives you to be who you are. I really enjoy that about you. I never thought someone could cry over a bug they killed until I met you.” He laughs at the memory of when we were hanging out one day at the bar and a bug was on the floor by my foot. I stomped on it and immediately felt bad. Thinking about the fact that it could’ve had a family. 

“You care so deeply for people you’ve never met. Wanting them to succeed even if it means you are risking your own happiness to do so.” He says softer than all his other words. “I hope you know that you have never upset me by asking your questions.” His eyes find mine and I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He read me like a book. He practically studied me. I don’t even know how to respond. 

“I know that’s why you got upset. My sister passing away. I don’t mind that you asked. It happened as unfortunate as it is. You didn’t know and you wanted to. Because you care.” He places a hand on my shoulder. I look down at his arm then back to his face. “Please don’t feel bad for caring.” 

My eyes begin to water and I pull him into a hug. “I don’t deserve your friendship.” I mumble into his chest. “I think you do.” He disagrees. 

“I like you, Claggor.” I told him. “Like a lot. I care for you more than anyone else I’ve ever met. I’m scared that I can’t be what you need. I want to be. Everything and more.” I confess, pulling away from him. “Did you know that? Was I not hiding that emotion well either?” I try to uplift the mood. 

“I didn’t have a clue actually.” He grins. “I like you as well. Like a lot. You are everything I need and more. I promise you that.” He pulls me back into his arms, looking down at me as I look up at him. 

He closes the distance between us, his lips landing on mine. It was a short, soft kiss but it was something I never felt before. Shivers sent down my spine. I flutter my eyelids open, both of us smiling ear to ear like giddy little kids. Taking in the moment for a few seconds.

“Does that mean you’re going to join me at this party that I’m soooo excited about?” He sarcastically asks and I giggle in response. “I guess so. I definitely need to clean myself up first though.” I motion to my hot mess of a state that I’m in. “I think you look beautiful in this. Don’t even need to worry about changing.” He jokes and I lightly hit his arm. 

“What a liar.” I fold my arms. “Hm, maybe a little. Want me to come back to pick you up?” 

“You could hang out in my room while I get ready. Maybe choose my outfit?” I propose and his eyes light up. “Yeah, let’s go.” He happily responds. 

[the-mpreg-guy]

I'm sooo tired of people saying that Endverse Dean was abusive to Castiel, because holy fuck that a) misses the entire point b) blatantly isn't true and c) neuters the fuck out of their dynamic in that episode.

Endverse Destiel is Dean and Castiel at their absolute fucking limit. You have Cas who basically goes insane but this time With Drugs and Dean who's not only forced into the role of leader/savior for humanity, but with the weight of planning his own brother's demise on his shoulders. He has exactly zero emotional support system at this point, as Bobby is dead and Cas is entirely checked out.

And then Cas is dealing with his loss of powers, control, family, faith, and sanity, who has also lost his entire emotional support system (mostly consisting of Dean, tbh, who isn't able to be there for Cas).

To me, Endverse Destiel is is Dean and Cas in their most peak Divorce Era. Except they are also completely fucking codependent at this point and have huge suicide pact energy and are probably hate fucking every Tuesday behind Chuck's cabin.

Their empathy buttons have been spammed so hard at this point that its in pieces and they're shutting down in totally opposite ways and its SO FUCKING DELICIOUS and goddamn I am SO TIRED of reading about how Endverse Cas was letting Dean abuse him bc it was the only way Dean would ever touch him. LITERALLY STOP. Toxic Apocalypse Yaoi takes two to hate tango <3

i have things to say about how endverse destiel has been mischaracterized for 14 years straight

[httpvomitello]

Oh great writer, write for me a request of the Rise turtles reacting to getting surprise kissed/booped on the nose (whatever you prefer) and my LIFE, is yours!!

Jokes take your time obvs and no rush! Love your work!!

AAAAAAAKHDKSBSKJS OMG, These kinds of comments make me so happy, seriously! You guys always have such good suggestions, that it makes me want to do everything at once. Anyway, I hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Unexpected Affection *⁠.⁠✧

Leo prided himself on being cool under pressure, but you? You always managed to throw him off his game.

It was a quiet night on the rooftops, the city buzzing faintly below. You had tagged along, keeping him company while the others were off in different parts of the city. As usual, he was trying to impress you, swinging his swords around in flashy movements.

“Pretty cool, right?” he said, grinning at you as he flourished his katana.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm… yeah, I guess that was alright.”

Leo’s grin faltered for half a second before he dramatically clutched his chest. “Alright? That was the height of ninja excellence!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, stepping closer to him. “Alright, fearless leader, I’ll give you that.”

Before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him right on the nose.

Leo froze, his swords clattering to the ground as his face turned bright red. “Wha—what was that?!”

You shrugged, trying to look innocent. “A little thanks for keeping me company.”

“I—you—you can’t just—” He sputtered, pointing at his nose. “You kissed me!”

“Is that a problem?” you teased, leaning in just a little closer.

Leo opened his mouth, then closed it, his brain clearly short-circuiting. Finally, he managed to croak, “Nope. No problem. Totally fine. Do that anytime.”

You grinned, patting his cheek. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

For the rest of the night, Leo was unusually quiet, and if his brothers noticed his red face when you returned, they were smart enough not to comment.

Raph wasn’t one for surprises. He liked to know what was coming, to protect his brothers and yourself too. So naturally, you loved catching him off guard.

The two of you were sparring in the lair, his massive frame towering over you as he carefully pulled his punches. “C’mon, Y/N, you gotta keep your guard up!” he said, smirking as you tried to land a punch.

“I am keeping my guard up,” you shot back, wiping sweat from your forehead.

“Not enough,” he teased, lunging toward you.

Instead of dodging, you stepped forward, catching him completely off guard as you reached up and booped him on the nose.

Raph blinked, stumbling back a step. “Did you just—”

“Boop,” you said, grinning as you tapped his nose again for good measure.

His face turned a deep shade of red, and for a moment, he looked utterly dumbfounded. Then he started to stutter, crossing his arms over his chest. “W-Why you... I m-mean... Why?”

“You were leaving yourself wide open,” you said innocently.

Raph sputtered, his blush creeping down his neck. “That’s not—ugh, this is a low blow.”

You laughed, patting his arm. “You love it.”

He grumbled something under his breath but didn’t push you away. And later, when he thought you weren’t looking, he touched his nose with a faint smile on his lips.

Donnie was in his element, tinkering with one of his many gadgets in the lab. You sat nearby, pretending to understand the stream of technobabble coming from him as he worked.

“So, by recalibrating the flux capacitor—”

“Pretty sure that’s from Back to the Future, Donnie,” you interrupted, smirking.

He paused, blinking at you over the rim of his glasses. “Uh, no, actually. This is a genuine flux capacitor. I created it myself.”

You couldn’t help but grin. He was so proud of his work, and you loved seeing him in his element. “Of course, you did, Don.”

He went back to his project, muttering to himself about the merits of his invention. You waited until he was fully focused, then leaned forward and kissed him gently on the nose.

Donnie stoped, his hand stilling mid-adjustment. His brain seemed to take a moment to catch up, and when it did, he turned to you with wide eyes. “Did you just… kiss me?”

“Yup,” you said, leaning back with a smug smile.

He blinked rapidly, his face slowly turning red as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “That was… unexpected.”

“Good unexpected or bad unexpected?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Good,” he said quickly, then seemed to realize how eager he sounded. “I mean, uh, it was… acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” you teased.

Donnie cleared his throat, turning back to his work in an attempt to hide his blush. “Don’t read too much into it, Y/N.”

But the way his hand kept drifting to his nose told you all you needed to know.

Mikey was always the one surprising you, so you figured it was time to turn the tables.

The two of you were in the kitchen, baking cookies—well, you were baking, and Mikey was mostly sneaking bites of dough when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Hey, hands off!” you said, smacking his wrist lightly as he reached for another scoop of dough.

“Aww, c’mon, Y/N, it’s a chef’s duty to taste-test!” he protested, grinning.

“You can taste-test once they’re baked,” you said firmly, rolling your eyes.

Mikey pouted, leaning dramatically against the counter. “You’re no fun.”

You laughed, shaking your head at his antics. Then, without warning, you leaned over and kissed him on the nose.

Mikey's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in surprise. “Did you just—”

“Yup,” you said, smirking as you went back to rolling out the dough.

He stood there for a moment, his brain clearly trying to process what had just happened. Then, a wide grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands.

“You do love me,” he said, his voice sing-song.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, Mikey.”

“Too late!” he said, laughing as he grabbed the dough and smeared a bit on your nose. “Now we’re even!”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help laughing as he darted out of reach, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

And if he was extra cheerful for the rest of the night, no one commented on it.

[cruel-seduction]

Deal breaker? 

Pairing - Peter Parker x reader 

Glimpse - “Because the only thing that matters to me is you.” His voice was steady, every word deliberate and full of conviction. “I don’t care if we have kids, if we get a goldfish, or if we just grow old together surrounded by a hundred cats. All I care about is you, spending my life with you. That’s it. That’s the deal, okay? And guess what?”

You tilted your head, your heart swelling as his hand shifted from your cheek to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb brushing softly along your jaw. “This deal? It’s never breaking. Ever.”

Genre - Fluff, hurt/comfort, and angst. 

Summary - Peter Parker has always had his own unique ways of bringing comfort—an unpredictable mix of sincerity, awkward humor, and boundless love. When a difficult conversation arises, he does what he does best: turns a moment of doubt into one filled with warmth, laughter, and quiet reassurance.

Content warning - Talking about children, Reader not wanting children, Peter being the cutest dork ever known. I guess that’s it. 

The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden hue over the sky, yet a soft chill began to settle in the air, hinting at the coming evening. It was the kind of weather that carried comfort in its breeze, the kind that invited you to curl up, warm and safe. Perfect weather, the kind you longed for—perfect for snuggling on the couch with Peter, your head resting on his chest while a horror movie played softly in the background. The type of night where you’d drift off to sleep halfway through, wrapped in the comfort of his presence. Yes, this was supposed to be the perfect weather for that—the kind of evening where everything felt just right.

But not tonight.

Tonight, the air felt heavier, thicker with tension. The familiar warmth you once shared with Peter felt distant, as distant as the gap that had grown between you over the past few months. Instead of the usual laughter, the usual easy silence that you could fill with simple words or shared glances, there was only the harsh, bitter sting of words that you both threw at each other in frustration.

You had been arguing for what felt like an hour, though it could have been longer. And in that moment, it didn’t matter. The time didn’t matter; it was the silence in between the words that did. Oh, sure, you’d both raised your voices—but not in the way arguments were supposed to go. No, you had been the only one shouting, the only one letting the anger and confusion spill out like a dam that had been holding back too much for too long. Peter hadn’t raised his voice in retaliation; he’d just stayed quiet. Almost too quiet.

It was a silly argument. Something so trivial that, in another time, you’d both laugh about it and shake your heads, wondering how such a small thing could have escalated to this point. But it wasn’t about the argument anymore, not really. It was about everything else—the months of silence, the coldness, the distance that had grown between you two like a slow-moving fog you hadn’t noticed until it was too thick to see through.

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit it to Peter. To say what was really bothering you. You were dragging this argument out, clinging to it like a lifeline, hoping that the tension would force the conversation you knew had to come. The one you had been avoiding for so long—the talk that had the potential to either fix everything or break it all apart.

But you weren’t ready for that talk. Not yet. Not tonight.

You had made a choice, however selfish it may have been. You chose to extend this fight, this silly argument, because it felt safer than facing the truth. It was wrong, you knew it was, but how could you not be selfish when it came to Peter? How could you not be when he meant so much to you? How could you let everything go—let him go—if you were to say what you truly felt? The things you were too afraid to admit. The things that made your heart ache just thinking about them. The things that might push him away.

You loved him. You loved him in a way that was overwhelming, in a way that terrified you. You needed him, as much as you hated to admit it. He was a part of you now, and the idea of losing him, of seeing him walk away because of the confession you had been holding back for so long, was a fear too vast to even acknowledge.

But you were also terrified that staying silent, letting this cold distance between you grow, might push him away all the same. The thought gnawed at you, as sharp and cruel as the wind outside. If you spoke the words, confessed what had been eating away at you, would he still stay? Or would it be the final thing that broke you? Would he leave?

You wanted to believe that confessing, being honest with him, would bring you closer. That it would clear the air, push the shadows away. But the fear of losing him, of being too much for him to bear, clouded your judgment. You wondered, deep down, if the only way to keep him was to remain in this limbo—pretend that everything was fine, even when it wasn’t.

And so, you let the argument drag on, hoping for something, anything, that would force the words out of your mouth before it was too late. Because deep down, you knew this silence, this distance, would only tear you apart more slowly than any argument ever could. And still, you couldn’t bring yourself to face the truth.

Peter ran a hand through his messy hair, a telltale sign of his growing frustration. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’ve been distant for weeks—no, months—and don’t even try to deny it. You barely talk to me, you avoid me like I’m some stranger in my own apartment, and—God, it’s like you’re trying to shut me out completely. Don’t you see that?”

You sighed heavily, a shaky breath that betrayed the calm you were trying to project. “Peter, you’re imagining things. I’m just tired, okay? That’s all it is. Work’s been stressful. Life’s been stressful. It’s not about you.”

“Not about me?” His voice rose, and he took a step closer, the desperation in his tone slicing through you. “I don’t care if it’s about me! I care that it’s about you! Something’s wrong, and you’re hurting, and you won’t let me help you! Why do you keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not?”

Your chest tightened, your arms instinctively crossing in front of you as a weak shield. “I’m not pretending! Peter, you’re making this a bigger deal than it is—”

“No, I’m not!” he interrupted, his voice cracking slightly. He exhaled sharply, trying to reign in his emotions. “I know you, okay? I know when you’re shutting me out. You don’t have to tell me that you’re fine, because I can see that you’re not.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, to deny the truth that was clawing at your insides, but no sound came out. Instead, you swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as your vision blurred. Tears. Of course, there were tears.

Peter’s expression softened when he saw them, and his tone dropped to a pleading whisper. “Baby… please. Just tell me what’s going on. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Together. But you have to let me in.”

He reached out, his warm hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushed against your skin. The gentle touch made the dam inside you crack even more, your resolve crumbling like ash in the wind.

“I can’t,” you whispered, the words trembling as they left your lips.

“Yes, you can,” Peter said, leaning closer. His voice was soft, but there was a firmness behind it, an unyielding determination to break through the barrier you’d put up. “You can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’m not going anywhere. You know that.”

The tenderness in his voice, the way his hand stayed so steady against your face—it was too much. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. The pressure that had been building for weeks finally exploded.

“Why do you want a kid, Peter?!” you burst out, the words ripping from your throat. Your voice was raw, trembling with the weight of all the fear and frustration you’d been bottling up. “Why?!”

The question hung in the air like a thunderclap, and you immediately regretted the way it came out, the way your voice cracked under the strain of emotions. Peter blinked, stunned by your outburst, but his hand never left your cheek.

“What are you talking about?” he asked softly, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“You keep bringing it up,” you continued, your voice shaking as tears streaked down your face. “All these little comments, these hints, and I know you’re trying to be subtle about it, but I hear you, Peter. I hear you every time you say something about how great it would be to have a family someday, or how much you want to be a dad. For fucks sake you searched baby’s name in your computer. And I—” Your voice broke, and you shook your head, overwhelmed. “I can’t give you that”

Peter’s eyes softened as he held your gaze, his confusion evident, but his patience unwavering. His thumbs brushed lightly across your tear-streaked cheeks, a silent encouragement for you to speak. His voice was steady, but the faint crack in it betrayed his worry.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, dove,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. His touch was firm yet tender, grounding you even as your heart thundered in your chest.

You took a deep breath, the kind that filled your lungs with an ache that mirrored the knot in your stomach. This was it. You couldn’t avoid it any longer. The words you’d been holding back for weeks sat heavy on your tongue, desperate to be set free, yet terrifying in their weight.

Finally, you found the courage to start. Your voice came out slow, measured, as if each word was a fragile thing that needed to be handled with care. “Peter… I don’t want a kid. I don’t see myself having one anytime soon. Maybe not ever.”

The first sentence hung in the air between you, and you watched his expression shift, the crease in his brow deepening as the meaning began to settle. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. The dam had burst, and everything you’d been keeping locked away poured out like a flood.

“I don’t see myself going through that pain,” you continued, your voice trembling but steady enough to push through. “It hurts, Peter. It hurts a lot. And I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of pain. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for it.”

You paused, inhaling sharply before your words gained momentum. “You’re Spider-Man. You’re out there every night, putting your life on the line, and you know what that means for me. How much I have to sacrifice just to keep myself together when you’re gone. How could I possibly add a child to that? How could I carry that weight on top of everything else?”

Peter’s hands remained steady on your face, but his silence was deafening. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to respond, but he held back, giving you the space to say everything you needed.

“I just want to focus on us right now,” you said, your voice firming as your emotions spilled into clarity. “On me and on you. If you still want to be with me.”

Your voice cracked slightly, but you pressed on, your words tumbling out faster now, no longer held back by hesitation. “A child is a lot, Peter. They cry. They need you constantly. They scream for no reason. They poop, and Jesus—” you let out a bitter laugh, the absurdity of it clawing at your throat, “—you have to clean their shit. All of it. I can’t do that, Peter. I can’t. I won’t. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle that. The idea of it just…” You shuddered, exhaling the thought like it was poison. “It terrifies me.”

Your words slowed, the rawness of your confession leaving you drained but lighter. For the first time in weeks, the weight of your fears wasn’t solely your own. By the time you finished, the frantic pounding of your heart had softened, replaced by a strange sense of calm.

Peter stayed quiet, his gaze locked on yours, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between you, the air thick with unspoken thoughts, until you finally spoke again, this time in a whisper.

“So…” you paused, your voice barely audible, trembling under the weight of your own vulnerability. “Is that a dealbreaker for you?”

For a moment, Peter just stared at you, his lips slightly parted as if he hadn’t even registered the question. Then he blinked, his face morphing into pure confusion. “A deal breaker?” he repeated, his voice pitching up like you’d just told him the moon was made of cheese. “What—what are you even talking about? Deal breaker? Are you kidding me right now?”

His reaction startled you, and your hands fidgeted nervously in your lap. You couldn’t meet his gaze, but Peter wasn’t having that. He leaned closer, trying to catch your eye. “First of all,” he began, voice slightly exasperated but tinged with something softer, “this is not a deal. What deal? Did I sign something and forget about it? Was there a secret contract? Because if there was, I want to renegotiate the terms. Immediately.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his sudden humor. Peter didn’t stop there. “Secondly,” he said, sitting up straighter, “you’re seriously asking me if not wanting a baby is a deal breaker? Babe, if I made that my hill to die on, I’d be the biggest idiot in the history of relationships. And trust me, there have been some huge idiots in history. Like, I’m talking cavemen-licking-fire-level idiots.”

You tried to stifle a laugh, but the corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself. Peter grinned, seeing the crack in your armour. He was relentless now.

“Let’s talk about the real disadvantages of kids, shall we? First of all, do you have any idea how expensive diapers are? It’s like they’re spun out of pure gold dust or something. And don’t get me started on baby food. Have you seen that stuff? It looks like... prison gruel.”

That did it. A laugh bubbled out of you, small but genuine, and Peter’s grin widened in triumph. He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And babies? They’re like tiny drunks. They scream, they cry, they throw up on you—and they wake you up at three in the morning because they’ve forgotten how to sleep. I mean, really, how do you forget how to sleep?”

You laughed again, louder this time, the sound shaking loose some of the tension in your chest. Tears still pricked at your eyes, but now they were mixed with the warmth of Peter’s words, his ridiculous lamest jokes. “That doesn’t even make sense baby” You chuckled. 

Peter softened at the sight of you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. His thumb brushed against your skin, wiping away a stray tear. “Hey,” he said quietly, his tone shifting to something tender. “All that stuff? It doesn’t matter. None of it does. You know why?”

You shook your head slightly, your gaze finally meeting his.

“Because the only thing that matters to me is you.” His voice was steady, every word deliberate and full of conviction. “I don’t care if we have kids, if we get a goldfish, or if we just grow old together surrounded by a hundred cats. All I care about is you, spending my life with you. That’s it. That’s the deal, okay? And guess what?”

You tilted your head, your heart swelling as his hand shifted from your cheek to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb brushing softly along your jaw. “This deal? It’s never breaking. Ever.”

Before you could respond, Peter leaned in, closing the small space between you. His lips met yours in the gentlest, sweetest kiss you’d ever shared. It wasn’t rushed or demanding—it was steady, deliberate, full of emotion. His other hand found its way to your waist, anchoring you to him as if you might disappear.

You felt the warmth of his palm on your neck, the slight press of his fingertips, grounding you in the moment. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, his lips moving against yours with a softness that made your chest ache in the best way.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and mingling with your own. “You’re it for me, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “Baby or no baby. You’re my future. Nothing else matters.”

You smiled at him, the last remnants of doubt melting away under the weight of his love. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice shaky but steadying with every breath.

Peter pulled you into another kiss, this one shorter but just as tender, before grinning against your lips. “Now, about those hundred cats…”

You laughed, playfully shoving his chest, but your heart felt light again. Peter Parker, your ridiculous, amazing, nerdy Peter, had managed to remind you once again why you loved him so much.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I know you’ve said in the past that you don’t think switching marinette and adrien’s kwamis would solve anything writing-wise, but do you think having the kwamis switch personalities would do the trick? marinette still has ladybug/creation, but with plagg’s personality, and adrien still has black cat/destruction, but with tikki’s personality. thoughts?

No, I don't think that this would fix anything because it's approaching the problem as if the issue is some flaw in the show's base setup. As if you have to make major changes for Miraculous to work. My stance has always been that the base setup is totally fine. The problem is the execution. In fact, I think that the current kwami personalities are a great choice, the problem is that they're not being used well.

Marinette has a pretty strong personality. She knows what she wants, but has a tendency to get caught up in her own head and a tendency to make snap judgments. Those tendencies make her occasionally fail to consider alternate paths or points of view. That means that what she needs most is someone who will make her consider those alternatives. Someone who will be direct, talk her out of mental spirals, and keep her focused. A voice of reason, if you will. Tikki is perfectly suited to that role. She is not the kind of kwami to sit passively by. Plagg, on the other hand, would just encourage Marinette along the path of glorious chaos or let her do whatever she wants so long as he gets his cheese. While I think that could be genuinely fun to watch, it's not really benefiting Marinette much and this ask appears to be treating the Kwamis as potential mentors, so I will, too.

Adrien is a little more complex. Given his rather depressing home life, I can see why someone would want to pair him with loving Tikki over more-detached Plagg, but I'll explain why I think that Plagg is the better fit IF you actually let him mentor.

Adrien is a passive follower. He never fights for himself and he bows to authority at the drop of a hat. While those traits are arguably strengths for his role on the battlefield, they're not great for him in his day-to-day life. There's nothing wrong with being more passive and more of a follower, but he needs to learn that he can make his own choices, too. The best way to do that is to give him the kind of mentor who doesn't just hand him the answers. Someone a little chaotic whose style is subtle pushes and not just handing him a possible path to take because Adrien would absolutely just take the suggested path. Plagg is perfectly suited to taking on this style of mentorship and it is a crime that the show never let him shine.

Example scenario: Adrien feeling left out in season four. (Note the following is a very rough draft)

Adrien: I feel like Ladybug doesn't need me anymore. She keeps calling in other heroes! Tikki: You need to talk to Ladybug and tell her how you feel! Ask her when she's free to meet up! Adrien: Okay, what should I say? Tikki: Tells him what to say.

This is solid advice, but Tikki is just handing Adrien an answer. He's probably not going to learn from this and may even flub up his talk with Ladybug without Tikki walking him through it because he's just doing what he's told and not coming to this path on his own. Contrast this to Plagg in his ultimate form (by which I mean mentor Plagg, not eldritch horror Plagg):

Adrien: I feel like Ladybug doesn't need me anymore. She keeps calling in other heroes! Plagg: And you're left watching from the sidelines every time? Adrien: No, not always. Plagg: So she's sharing the cheese now? Giving you slices instead of the whole wheel? Adrien: yeah, I guess. Plagg: why? Adrien: what do you mean why? Plagg: why'd she start sharing? Adrien: I don't know. Plagg: Huh. Too bad. If only there was a way you could find out. I guess it will remain a mystery. Adrien: (annoyed) Ladybug knows! Plagg: And? Adrien: And... I guess I could ask her? Plagg: I mean, if you started sharing my cheese, I'd be demanding answers! Adrien: I'd never share your cheese! Plagg: You promise? Never? Not even if you were starving? Adrien: Well, I mean, I guess I might if it was an emergency or something, but I wouldn't share it without a good reason! Plagg: And Ladybug's different? Adrien: What do you mean? Plagg: She does things without a good reason? Adrien: Of course not! She's brilliant! She always has a plan! Plagg: Interesting. Might want to keep that in mind for your little talk. Adrien: (after a thoughtful pause) So you think I should talk to her? Plagg: Is there another way for you to find out what's going on? Adrien: No. Plagg: Then why are you bothering me? Sounds like you only have one option!

Note that Plagg never gives Adrien a clear answer here. He just asks questions in a bored manner and lets Adrien think things through. He's guiding Adrien to a specific answer, but making Adrien really think about it, better prepping him for the coming talk. This mentorship style would drive Marinette crazy, but I think it would do wonders for Adrien! The difference is that, in this situation, Marinette probably already knows what she needs to do and is just avoiding it while Adrien genuinely needs help realizing that he can speak up. This doesn't mean that Adrien should never get direct, clear advice, I just wouldn't make that the standard as it's not helping him with his passivity.

All of this is a big part of why I love Plagg so much. That little cheese gremlin is just brimming with potential and it saddens me greatly that canon will never give it to us. They gave him the perfect personality, they just missed the fine details of how that personality should function as a mentor.

[aihoshiino]

I know I'm swinging a bat into a hornet's nest, but ever since the end of OnK I've been thinking about why Akane is so popular yet so disappointing as a character.

Akane was really interesting and I enjoyed her being her own character, but after the stage play arc she just becomes an Aqua simp. All her motivations become centered around him to the point of wanting to ruin her life for a boy. She becomes a "submissive Japanese wife" that so many people are obsessed about, completely ignoring that her and Aqua's dynamic would be horrible for both of them. They enable each other's self-destructive tendencies, trying to go to hell instead of climbing out of it.

I hate what they did with Akane at the end. She becomes nothing more than a plot device, and to have her narrate the ending which overshadows every other character (especially Ruby, she deserved so much more) is such a bad move. Justice for Akane, she's a much better character than an exposition mouthpiece for the reader's sake. We don't even get to see her actually analyze any information (aside from researching Ai at the start), she just suddenly has all the answers even in moments where it has almost nothing to do with her. I'm so annoyed at how Akane-centric the ending is, truly putting her characterization into the ground alongside Aqua.

I think the issue re: Akane is that Akasaka kind of accidentally wrote himself into a corner by making her SO smart and capable that if she was allowed to actually contribute to the story then she would end up solving most conflicts before they actually played out on the page lol

Like, to be totally fair, there was always going to be an element of Akane orbiting Aqua because she's very specifically a character not involved in Ruby's half of the plot and with zero interest in B-Komachi. So it makes sense for her to take a bit of a backseat when we switch focus to it but Tokyo Blade going into the Private arc is really good example of how she can still be a present and engaging character even without directly contributing just by letting her... you know, engage and be present with the rest of the cast! But starting with Mainstay, Akane has basically zero meaningful interactions with anyone who isn't Aqua and most of what she does on-page also revolves around him and their relationship. I'm not even really sure why this is because there are certainly places she could've at least been inserted to flesh out her relationships with the wider cast but my best guess is that this would have interrupted or complicated what Akasaka wanted to do so he didn't include her. And Don't Even Get Me Started On The Movie Arc.

There's more issues with how Akasaka uses her as a character but u/uvauva2 on the OnK subreddit did a really good and concise breakdown of them and I'd basically just be recapping their points if I carried on, so I recommend reading it.

It sucks because I've really come around on Akane and I think she's super compelling up through to the end of the Private arc. But past that, it feels like Akasaka had no idea what to do with her as a character so he turned to using her as a blunt force tool of convenience to paper over sections of the plot. She ends up kind of reduced to a mouthpiece for Akasaka to do exposition with and... Yeah, it sucks! Akane was a character with a lot of really interesting potential but it just feels like Akasaka lost interest in fitting her into the story at some point.

[igglemouse]

My day starts with my paper delivery job. Oh, yes, I guess I never mentioned that I do have a new job? Just something to supplement my jewelry thing as a little extra income never hurts and the job is easy enough. Drop papers at doorsteps and move on, that's it!

When I do make it home I find a surprising little bowl of stew sitting right on my counter. This must be the work of Niklas, who else would randomly do me a kindness like this? My only question is, did he make it with magic or cook it by hand?

And hey, whether it was made with a dash of magic or pure culinary skill it was pretty good all the same! Seriously, what doesn't he do? Maybe he's just showing off at this point.

In the middle of my meal Niklas strolls out of my restroom, as if he lives here, mind you, and asks if I'm enjoying the food. Honestly, yes, I am. Okay, alright, it's about a 6 out of 10 but it gets 2 bonus points simply because I didn't make it.

"So did you sprinkle a bit of magic in it?" I can't help but ask, it's a harmless question, but I imagine if I could make my dishes better with magic, I would.

"No? I mean I guess I could but-"

"Could you make the perfect meal with a touch of magic?"

"I guess you could? Never tried it though," he admits and from the look on his i can tell he's never really thought about it. He really doesn't like using his magic, huh?

"You really don't like using your watcher given abilities, do you?" I can't help but shake my head as he's made that very clear. It's a little frustrating. Having so much power at the tips of your fingertips and denying it all.

"Honestly, Grace, the whole bit is overrated."

"You keep saying that and yet just last night you waved your hands around and poof, clean tub. Just that alone is amazing."

But he's not convinced, he's shaking his head as if I don't get it at all and takes a deep breath before continuing. "The Realm and all it deals with is not only overrated but dangerous. The regular person lives a nice and safe calm life while we? Well, we could be called upon to face horrors you could never imagine."

"Well..." I falter behind his gaze just a bit because who wouldn't when facing unimaginable horrors? "I umm, yeah, I guess it's that whole great power great responsibility thing then."

"It's exactly like that."

"Alright then...but still, I don't see anything wrong with a little sprinkle of magic to make a pasta just a pinch better."

"I could try, mess up, and accidentally poison your food and you'd be in the hospital right now instead of just eating an average bowl of soup."

Ok, I guess I get his point.

So the man wants the normal life. I can't blame him for that. It sounds like he wants to just move to Henford and live out the rest of his days there or something, I don't know. Again, I can't blame him for that but personally...I'd like to be able to do something magical. I guess it is true, you always want what you can't have, unlesssss you want to soak in milk I guess and relax. You can absolutely have that.

Magic or no magic I am handling my bills pretty well. Thankfully, this place isn't too pricey so I can manage. It always feels good to have things under control financially.

Especially when I can sell a piece of jewelry for 1k. It's not a fortune in the grand scheme of things but it's enough to cover rent and still have simoleons left over. A little breathing room helps!

Hopefully this little ring will sell!

With the rain pouring down outside I can only decide to settle at my computer for the evening and dive into video games. There really isn't much else to do in my little place especially with Niklas off doing whatever he does. So it should be a quiet and peaceful night. Just me, the rain, and my laptop.

At least that was the plan but it looks like I'll be having a late night visitor.

Standing at my doorstep in the middle of a storm is none other than Lilja, the vampire I met earlier in the spring. Our first meeting was strange and now I can't help but wonder what brings her here on this rainy night. It's hard to tell from her expression as it is completely neutral and her eyes, cold and seemingly lifeless, stare right through me.

"So, may I?"

"Come in, you mean?" I ask, stupidly. Of course she needs an invitation. She's a vampire. "Y-yes, I guess so."

"Thank you."

"So, you're not going to like abuse my invitation, are you?"

Lilja chuckles softly at my question, amused in that delicate way of hers. "No, if I wanted to take you then you would have been taken," she says with precision. Perhaps she's right. I have been a little casual with my night time activities but she has made it clear that she's not out to harm me.

"So, then," I take a steady breath and gather my courage. "What brings you here? Despite the fact that I don't remember giving you my address or anything." But I'm sure she's been stalking me. Vampires are natural born stalkers, I might not know much about them but I do know that.

"Did you know that there was a ward put up around your house?" she asks that question with a tilt to her head, as if she is testing me.

"What? Yeah, a magician friend put one up, I'm not sure why-"

"Friend huh?" She gives me a knowing look. Does she know about Niklas? "It was a very weak ward but it did tingle just a little bit, it seems your wards are...weakening."

"Yeah, he's..." I trail off but then stop myself. Why am I explaining this? "Are you stalking me?"

"Watching you, did you forget our deal?"

"I..." guess I have. "Can you remind me again?"

"The blood magic," she says, watching me, her eyes intent and focused upon my expressions. "Do you remember?" and so it comes back to me, the deal, the offer of her maker willing to teach me blood magic. It felt theoretical at the time but now it feels much more concrete.

"I-, yes, I do remember now. Is it difficult to learn?"

"No, just costly."

"Costly? May I ask why you're willing to do this? What is in it for you and your umm...maker?"

"Everything," the weight of that word brings silence and for a moment I'm not sure what else to say. "The Realm have hunted our kind to near extinction and only the help of a blood witch can save us now."

"Oh," so am I the chosen one? "You can't just find someone else?"

"It is in your blood, your mother-"

"Yes, yes, she was a blood witch, I know."

"I am inviting you back to the castle," she says, and I'm reminded me that she had warned me against coming back because her maker might attack me again and she sees that concern and memory in my eyes. "He rests still, he is still weak. He needs...blood."

"Umm, yeah, sure, since you are inviting me I guess, does Saturday work."

"Yes, sounds perfect."

I'm not sure what the time is but I am getting a little uncomfortable with her here. "Umm, now, it's getting kind of late for me so if you don't mind..."

Episode List - Next Episode 3.4

[supremechancellorrex]

I don't think Mai saving Zuko's life and putting herself at risk of being killed by Azula is simply "Saving the jerk who dumped me", that's more how she dryly responds the guards when they ask. I don't find it likely Mai would have responded with something mushy. As for her being bitter about the break up, that's quite understandable. She spent most of Book 3 trying to put some sort of work into the relationship, such as in Nightmares and Daydreams where she repeatedly tries to cheer him up. Of course, instead of speaking to her in person to get her to understand an understanding Zuko himself has only recently come to, Zuko never has the conversation with her.

Mai: "All I get is a letter? You could have at least looked me in the eye when you ripped out my heart."

The letter itself doesn't seem very explanatory. "Dear Mai. I'm sorry you have to find out this way but I'm leaving." So, she demands answers. It's important to remember that Mai was raised in the same culture as Zuko was, she herself has been gaslight and had her emotions disregarded by her own parents in childhood. If Mai hates the world and is apathetic, it would be because of that. But I don't think Mai does hate the world, she doesn't hate Zuko, or Ty Lee, or it seems the people she interacts with generally. Part of her 'hating' things seems to be said in jest, like on the sunset picnic with Zuko. She has only admitted to fearing Azula.

Regardless, after Zuko explains his side of things in the Boiling Rock, Mai chooses him. Zuko talks about creating an era of kindness in the series, and Mai chooses love over fear, rejecting Azula and Fire Nation ideology. An ideology that was demonstrated in Ozai and Zuko's conversation in the Day of Black Sun, where he rejected Ozai and the Fire Nation. The themes intricately link both personal and national motivations. So I think Mai does understand why Zuko turned against the Fire Nation. She doesn't argue that strongly for the Fire Nation in the Boiling Rock because when Zuko speaks with conviction, and passion, it seems she begins to realise the Fire Nation isn't worth it to the point she doesn't even manage the last word in the conversation and goes quiet.

Mai (to Azula): "I guess you just don't know people as well as you think you do. You miscalculated, I love Zuko more than I fear you."

In the end, Mai finds her motivation. Love. Something that seems in short supply in the Fire Nation. And that pushes her to action. I also don't think Katara would even punch her in the throat, because Katara has dealt with apathetic people before and it seems she tends to want to motivate them. Which she doesn't even need to do because Mai already finds her motivation. Ultimately, I doubt Katara would hate Mai, who isn't sadistic nor particularly mocking. Meanwhile Azula languidly traps Aang under rubble, sets fire to the walls around him up his fear and make him struggle more, then slowly walks up to him with a revelling smirk as if savouring the final blow. Katara would hate Azula, which she has demonstrated in canon.

Meanwhile, "Don't ever break up with me again" sounded more like a joke, born out of dry sense of humour, than anything serious considering she smiles and if we are to take comic canon into account she breaks up with him. I have doubts the line in the scene meant Zuko was imprisoned forever and more was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek.

Plus, I tend to personally see show canon, written by Bryke, Ehasz and the rest of the Avatar writing team, more difficult to disregard than comics written by another writer that are infamous for being contradicting and butchering characters. I doubt the original intentions of the cartoon and comic really match. Regardless, you are right in that the comics, no matter horribly written are canon, which is a shame for pretty much every character, and Mai isn't alone in being impacted by bad writing (although not unsalvegeable) under Gene Yang. As for that scene at the end, I doubt Mai was there because of Zutara, in canon she's Zuko's girlfriend at that point, it shows a new unity (just like Ty Lee with the Kyoshi Warriors) and it's probably also the writers wanted to make that "I look like a man" joke as fans online had been saying stuff like that at the time because they didn't think Mai was pretty or feminine enough.

"I think Katara would get along with Azula/Mai because female solidarity!"

Cool. I think Katara would punch fascists in the throat.

[mychemikuromance]

The thoughts are getting to me (written before I dumped everything in tags)

Oh okay maybe I can cope now (written after I journaled in the tags and maybe now I can actually fall asleep)

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

// okay but actually knowing that the ending isn't totally tragic makes it way less scary to get involved. Certain "bad ends" can be terrible for people with past experience, so knowing that eventually it will get better is relieving to say the least.

yeah i do actually have phase 2's ending planned out and i'll say that it's a lot more positive and hopeful . i mean it's not a happily ever after or something but we'll see some character development

i guess i'm throwing out all of these reassurances because - i think it's apparent already but phase 2 will have considerably darker topics ( trauma , identity crises and whatever 00 has going on to be specific ) , and i fully believe that the message i'm going for will be shattered if it ends badly . she'll be alright /genuine .

[coollyinterferes]

The unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching begins to fill the air. Whoever is coming seems to have brought some company along…

They are getting closer… and closer… and closer…

…and closer…

……until..................

"Goooooood evenin'!!" Comes the loud greeting from a certain blond man. A big smile on his face and all.

"We beg your pardon for our prolonged absence. It was completely beyond our control..." Then adds the gentleman standing by his side, apologizing on behalf of both, offering a genuine smile along with the apology.

"...BUT! We're back!" And hopefully for good this time…

[eyes-of-mischief]

part 2!

weekly fic recs | 57

prompt: time loop

fandoms: bnha, dc, hp, mcu, mdzs, svsss, the witcher

bnha

no grave can hold my body down by Anubis_2701

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence, major character death)

All Shouto wants is for his brother to come home. So he stupidly, selfishly, goes after him to achieve just that. But Touya is not as forgiving as he once was, and Shouto dies by his hand.

Then Shouto wakes up right before confronting him. And tries again.

And dies. Again.

And again, and again, and again.

starkly marked by OwlF45

His fingers push Izuku’s sleeve higher up his forearm. In bands across Izuku’s arm in endless upon endless rows, inky dashes are blotted into his skin.

The newer ones are always stark against Izuku’s skin. They’re jet black, narrow, burning reminders. The older ones have faded a little, softer around the edges—still jarring, still neatly in place, but fonder in Izuku’s memories.

“What is this?” Shouto asks. “Are these tattoos?”

It’s a wild guess. It’s the same Shouto throws out. Always.

“No,” Izuku says. It’s all the times I’ve tried to save you.

Or: Izuku is stuck in a time loop. The longer he goes on for, the more people begin to recognize him—even when they've technically never met.

hp

Sisyphus by esama

Harry gets another chance - and another and another. At some point, they stop feeling like chances at all.

mcu

Shadow Plays by dreamlittleyo

(explicit) (rape/non-con)

In which Thor lives a single day more times than he can count, and Loki doesn't know how to fix it.

Tedium of Minutiae by esama

"We've been here before, having this same conversation."

In which long, long time ago Stephen Strange trapped Tony Stark in a time loop.

mcu x dc

Friendly Interdimensional Neighborhood Spider-Man by mysterycyclone

(graphic depictions of violence, major character death)

Dick wakes up to that same flash of gold and red, lying flat on his back on top of the roof of a building. The sound of traffic fills his ears, and the air is cool and crisp the way it is in spring, when the snow and ice are gone, but there’s still a slight chill in the air.

“Oh, good. You’re not dead,” a voice says above him, relieved and curious. “Thank god. I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain this one.”

Dick blinks, sitting up and staring up at the form of a man sticking to the side of a wall, feet and back pressed against it in a sitting position. He’s wearing a super suit--blue and red fabric woven around armor and lined with webbing, with a white spider symbol across the chest. The suit has a full mask, and the eyes of it blink.

The man waves at him cheerfully. “Hi. I’m Spider-Man. I help people around here. Who are you?"

mdzs

see you yesterday by glyphic

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence, major character death)

On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.

Every Time You Close Your Eyes by brooklinegirl

(explicit)

"We're caught in a time loop," Lan Zhan says. "This is the fifth iteration." There's a flash in his brain, a quick series of images, Wei Ying's lifeless eyes staring past him, over, and over, and over again. "It starts like this every time. It ends with you dead. Then it resets itself."

He watches Wei Ying process it, the flicker of his eyes, a tilt of his head, before he nods again, leaning forward, untangling his feet from the covers and pushing himself to the edge of the bed. "What have we tried?"

svsss

Futility in Practice by TGP

When Luo Binghe is fourteen years old, his shizun suffers a terrible qi deviation and fever that completely changes who he is.

Just Like A Monkey (I've Been Dancing My Whole Life) by millepertuis 

Shen Qingqiu is supposed to wake in his new body after he self-destructs.

It’s not what happens.

the witcher

don't tell me we've grown (for having loved) by SummerFrost

(explicit)

According to Jaskier, they've lived this day almost a hundred times. Geralt doesn't remember any of them.

weekly fic recs | 28

prompt: time loop

fandoms: bnha, bsd, merlin, mdzs, mp100

bnha

once more, with feeling by curovogel

(explicit)

The time loop starts with three of Bakugou’s fingers in him.

Todoroki jerks as he’s thrusted back into his body at midnight, the same seconds of the old day ticking past, and then Bakugou curls his fingers and Todoroki is jerking for another reason altogether.

phantasmagoric by orkestrations

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence)

There’s too many blank notebooks sitting on his shelves (seven, he has seven—he sees good sales and he just has to buy them, because one can never have too many notebooks) so he grabs one and opens it and slaps it onto his desk and grabs a black pen from his pen holder, sending the other writing utensils in it rattling. He clicks the pen, exposing the tip, and writes, at the top of the page, in bold black ink: Time Loop Analysis For The Present (Titling his things has always made him feel better, and it helps even now, a balm on his nerves.)

adjective

having a fantastic or deceptive appearance, as something in a dream or created by the imagination.

having the appearance of an optical illusion, especially one produced by a magic lantern.

changing or shifting, as a scene made up of many elements.

a lesson you should heed (try, try again) by aloneintherain

(mature)

Izuku doesn't know why the day keeps resetting. He doesn't know why he's trapped on campus, or why there's no phone reception, or why Aizawa and Shinsou keep losing their memories of the Saturdays they've already lived, while Izuku remains constantly, painfully aware.

But he does know this: Aizawa and Shinsou keep dying, over and over again, in more brutal and creative ways. And it's his job to save them.

Free Fall by DancingInTheStorm

Getting trapped in a time loop with All for One was the last thing Izuku wanted, but, well, here they were.

bsd

Morning Light by FallenBrie

Atsushi stares for a long moment, taking that in. “That’s it? I just have to die and I’ll be let go?”

“You’ll exit the loop. Sounds fairly simply but remember the time limit, your healing ability is going to be working against you here,” Ranpo corrects.

“I almost die all the time - “ He laughs, a weight in his chest lifting. “I’m going to get out of here!”

--

Atsushi gets stuck in a time loop and severely underestimates just how dedicated his family is to keeping him alive

mdzs

time waits for no one. by theroyalsavage

Wei Wuxian dies on a sleepy Thursday afternoon in April.

Well. Sort of. To be more precise, Wei Wuxian dies and then he undies. Or maybe it’s most accurate to say that one second Wei Wuxian is dead, and then the next second he is not dead at all, and never was.

He time-leaps.

Wearing Down Every Bone by CSHfic, VSfic

“Sizhui, tell me,” Wei Wuxian says. “Does this feel... familiar to you?”

or

After running into Lan Zhan on a night hunt, Wei Wuxian is cursed to live the same day over and over and over.

merlin

Quickening Days by Fahye

(mature)

In which dragons & ghosts & prejudices are confronted, Merlin wears a hat (twice) and a dress (once), Arthur breaks some crockery (lots), there are more pranks than pillowfights but at least one of each, and many secrets are revealed.

mp100

tomorrow isn't always another day by suitablyskippy

It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look cursed to you?”

Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”

“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long look, and really think about it...”

(There's nothing strange about being called back to exorcise the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted photocopier.)

[romanticatheartt]

If I had the ability to led on a grown ass man (without even doing much) for 5 centuries I'd be proud as fuck, lemme tell ya...

Mor probably...

[moeblob]

There was a post I saw about someone who mutually ghosted a guy after a date and kept matching with him and they're not interested but it's the longest "relationship" the person had been in at that point and I'm like. Karen would mutually ghost someone.

She doesn't really tell Brent/Right/Evelyn/Chris his name (he has a double first name, Patrick is not his last name) and just refers to him as "My Guy". Like "Ah damn, My Guy matched again. End my suffering." And when she tries to explain it to Right who does NOT understand how it's different, her logical answer is "it's my God given right to ghost a polite man!"

Also I just imagine her confiding in Paul about Rick and he's like "is his name Patrick" and she's like "kinda". And after that, Paul calls him "Pattycakes" cause he's never even seen the guy so why not give him a funny little nickname. He's allowed to do so at this point probably.