#much more likely to use it as a projectile

[vivitalks]

Cat pillow solves issues

(the cat being the pillow. Getting the cat a pillow will just mean it has another thing to ignore)

Follow me for more wisdom and life hacks <3

this is a nice idea for any cat who wouldn't bite my face off if i attempted to use it as a pillow

[pikachu-deluxe]

been thinking recently about how i play games (in general but also a bit on the competitive side on some)

turns out i don't particularly care about winning, i just want to have fun, but obviously i do like winning i just try to do win by doing very stupid stuff

it's way more fun for everyone involved when you do things against the meta or common sense and end up winning anyways bc it's so weird that it takes others by surprise

[steviescrystals]

no one asked but i find it very weird that my taste in alcohol is basically the opposite of ALL of my friends like every single one of them…

[gaykarstaagforever]

YouTube has this thing now called YouTube Playables (great name as usual, guys; it's not a children's snack pack), that are basically in-app "Flash games"-style things that are just enough game to keep you watching ads.

The ones of these that aren't direct ripoffs of owned IP (very specifically Zuma) are barebones exercises in that bog-standard FTP addictive mobile gaming loop we all know and hate but also LOVE, minus the in-app purchases (for the time being). Like, shallow systems that are fun for exactly 30 minutes, then get stupidly hard so you'll pay to win, though you can't do that yet, so...kind of pointless.

...I still spent FOUR HOURS playing these, because they tapped into my primitive lizard brain's desire to try and master an utterly meaningless task and then feel undooly smug about it.

I didn't get any ads, because I'm a stooge that pays real money to Google every month for this, because once you go adless, you CANNOT go back. Which kind of negates the whole point of these, as addictive time-wasters that keep you glued to the platform and its commercials? But I already pay for YouTube and STILL got caught in these, so I suppose everything is going according to YouTube's plan either way, and I need meaningful human relationships.

But THAT isn't going to happen any time soon! So let me waste another evening on these by reviewing some crap garbage games for idiots that no one cares about, on Tumblr dot com!

1. Totemia: Cursed Marbles

It's Zuma. That's it. With a couple minor tweaks that make it harder and more annoying.

Just license Zuma, YouTube. I think you can afford the, what, $25 that would cost atm?

2. Sword Play

An on-rails sword slashing game (you don't control the movement, just the slashing), and you kill plastic doll guys before they kill you.

At some point they get projectiles that move really fast, that you can only destroy via specific directional QTEs that don't register properly half the time, because this is all relative finger smearing across the screen.

It was fun before that. The guys fall apart specific to how you slash them. That's something.

3. Dessert DIY

This one sucks. You're just picking from very limited options, then doing specific motions to trigger animations that create desserts that don't even look much like the promo art. People request different things, but early game all they ask for is "whatever you want to make" and "do one out of poop with bugs on it to make someone I hate throw up."

And then there's an animation of someone accepting what is obviously poop with bugs on it from their sworn enemy, they eat it anyway, then vomit.

The only fun part about this is the shameless inclusion of NPCs that look like celebrities, specifically Billie Eilish, Kanye West, and Donald Trump.

If you want to make a poop ice cream cone with bugs on it and feed it to Trump until he vomits all over his desk, this is the game for you. Otherwise, this is meh even for one of these meh games.

4. Bowmasters

Dueling Angry Birds, but you have no control of the camera and it focuses on you so you have to trial-and-error the degree of angle and throwing force to figure out how to hit and kill your opponent before they hit and kill you.

There are many colorful pop culture-inspired combatants to unlock, with a huge variety of projectiles of different weights, sizes, and behaviors. This is the most "very nearly a real, good game" one of these.

...Except that the level progression forces you to do Bonus Rounds, and one of those is "knock fruit off the head of an opponent without hitting them, and you have to do this like 5 times in a row, and we move you further away from them another 30 yards every round, and you have to use a wildly different unique projectile every round, and you get 3 chances, and that includes if you miss entirely."

It is basically impossible to do this, because your ever-changing location makes calculating arcs and force, with the ever-changing projectiles, impossible, in this limited amount of attempts. It turns into grinding it out until RNG randomly makes you win.

Which is a shame, because otherwise, this is fun. But you WILL get stuck on a stupid fruit round and stop playing this.

5. Mob Control

You have a cannon that launches blue guys. The NPC opponent does red. You both are trying to bumrush the other's base, taking advantage of buttons and switches and bonus gates that speed you up or slow you down and multiply your number of guys. Guys annihilate each-other when they run into each-other, so you need to overwhelm Red before they overwhelm you.

It's fun until it gets so fast that it becomes a chore to manage where precisely to launch guys specifically to annihilate other guys.

6. Merge Master

This goddamn game. This was 3.5 hours of my 4 hour playtime.

You have a grid board, with you at the bottom and an opponent at the top. You both have an army of warriors and dinosaurs, and a team HP bar. You click go, the warriors fire projectiles and the dinosaurs melee the nearest enemy, and last man standing wins.

Before each round, you can arrange the placement of your army, and use money you won from the last rounds to buy more warriors and dinosaurs. But the kicker is, you can combine like warriors and dinosaurs to make more powerful units, which you keep at the end of every round. They don't gain XP or anything, but as you make more money, you can buy more 1st-level units (that's all you can buy), and gradually combine them and then combine the combinations, and on and on and on, making incredibly powerful new units. And you need a mix of low-level and high-level units to have enough melee dinosaurs and projectile-throwers to overwhelm high-level enemy units, or draw fire away from your own, against the ever-changing enemy army each round.

It's a process of slowly adding more units and combining them to make stronger and stronger units, and as many of them as you can get, accounting for the limited board space. Also the price of units rises exponentially each round, so you may have 1 trillion gold, but at this point a new 1st-level dinosaur costs 245 billion.

I couldn't stop with this. It just got me. I wanted to see new exciting high-level warriors and dinosaurs, and see how fast I could take the other army down. There's more than zero strategy at work here, and battles can vary substantially from round to round, depending on what mix of units the enemy brings to the board.

It's still a rudimentary Flash-esque game, and very much akin to those shitty mobile boss rush games that raid our shadow legends. But it's not PTW yet, and the graphics are a charming and distorted replica of early 2000s 3D games, like Age of Mythology or GTA 3. It felt like something, for awhile.

It isn't, and I wasted valuable battery charge on this stupid shit. But I was having fun. And sometimes, that's enough.

...And posting about it here. It's something to talk about that isn't the world eating itself.

And we all need that sometimes.

[eiilese]

what if the strawhats had different roles on the ship⁉️ i swapped everyone’s roles except for luffy because i can’t imagine him being anything but the captain

these are loose redesigns since their canon designs don’t really read as their roles all that much to begin with. some extra doodles and ideas for this in the cut !!

nami, vice captain: i took a lot of inspiration from her beta design!! canon nami already bosses everyone around so she fits right into the role. she wields an extendable staff (usopp still makes it for her); she lost her arm over the time-skip like how zoro lost his eye. i LOVE drawing cargo pants and boots, so she ended up with a sorta bottom-heavy design. frankly it’s probably not her style but i like how she looks

zoro, the cook: my foolproof logic is zoro uses swords = good with knives. he does not use katanas to cut produce however, just normal knives. i was trying to go for “sweaty ramen guy” with the towel around his neck. the majority of the shit he cooks would probably be drowned in alcohol. he also wears his bandana the majority of the time now!! it completes the ramen guy look

sanji, the sniper: i also took inspiration from his beta design for this!!! he has guns!! and perfect aim of course. i was going for more of a mafioso look so germa 66 would be like, a mafia organization on top of all the other villain shit they already do. he has two guns but i didn’t draw a holster bc that’s annoying🤞 he lights his cigarettes with his guns. how would that even work? don’t ask me

usopp, the navigator: his artistic talent lends itself to creating perfect maps! he also still tinkers, making nami’s staff as well as having a specialty for compasses. he uses a slingshot still (no perfect aim we gotta nerf him) and shoots weather-related projectiles. his goggles serve as binoculars, they can zoom to several different distances. i drew him in his zou outfit purely bc it’s my favorite one

chopper, the helmsman: he would predominately use heavy point while maneuvering the wheel. i changed his hat up to look more like a sailor’s cap, with an anchor symbol instead of an X. to be honest i don’t have much else bc helmsman doesn’t bring much to my mind :(

franky, the musician: ROCK N ROLL BABY YEEAHHH come on his stage presence is unmatched. he’s still a cyborg, he has instruments all over his body like apoo does but they were installed manually. his personality changes depending on what genre he’s playing but rock n roll is his default B) (ex. classical calls for a refined gentleman)

robin, the shipwright: her devil fruit gives her as many helpful hands as she needs! she developed nami’s arm (definitely installed some random shit she did Not ask for). she has a robot mecha that she’s able to pilot all by herself using clones. i changed her orange sunglasses to goggle eyewear

brook, the doctor: the irony of being nursed back to health by a literal skeleton 💀the irony of being the doctor of the rumbar pirates yet being the only survivor, saving no one from the poison 💀 i went for a plague doctor look! IM VERY HAPPY WITH HOW HE TURNED OUT i was really tempted to give him the plague mask too, but i feel that would’ve changed his appearance too much compared to the others

jinbei, the archaeologist: the shape of this man demands a little pair of round glasses on his face. he’s an intellectual i tell you!!! plus still a fishman karate master. the history of joyboy and fishman island being so intertwined is how he developed an interest in history

[earlgreylatte]

When You’re Small

Where you run into the Teen Team. Mark continues to be annoying.

You’re seventeen. It’s been a year since you swapped out your white and mint green suit for black, and your ‘silly’ goggles, that resembled a snowboarders more than a hero’s, for a equally dark gas mask.

…You look a bit spooky.

(Art watches you take in your new outfit, “A bit…dark, don’t you think? Especially with the red lenses. Be careful, or you might be confused for a villain, kid,” He comments.

“I’d rather not be seen to begin with, and it’s cool. I look like the Courier from Fallout,” you reply, taking off the mask. “And good job, I can actually smell less for once.”

Your father found it a bit amusing that your nose was particularly sensitive. It was honestly overkill when paired with your advanced hearing.

“Fallout?”

“You’d love it, Art, not much fishing though, but there is crafting.”

“If you say so, kid.”)

You’ve started to work late into the night, so the black suits you just fine.

Cecil is reliable, you think, and even nice, sometimes.

He doesn’t toss you out to fight dragons and powered terrorists, instead having you deal with crime where you actually feel like you’re making a difference. Beating down scum that hurt women, children, and animals left you satisfied. You were confident that this work was good. And not just because they couldn’t fight back and use your own strength against you.

(Sometimes you want to stop holding back against them. To kill them. They’d deserve it. You don’t. Instead you beat them within an inch of their life. Just an inch.)

You know that he knows. That you ended a civilian’s life with your carelessness. He doesn’t comment on it. You don’t even know if they were able to ID the remains, you’re too scared to ask.

Your dad gives backhanded remarks on how you’re wasting your time. You’d reply that by his logic, every hero is wasting their time. He only grunts in annoyance when your mom shoots him a look.

You think he’s just acting all sulky because your costume no longer resembles his.

Despite the petty arguments, you continue to live your life day by day.

You meet your superpowered…peers after school, when you’re outside of costume. You had just been at comic book store, picking up the newest issue of ‘Seance Dog’ when you heard a crash from outside, followed by screams and cries. Peaking out, you immediately notice a snake like beast terrorize the streets.

You don’t really want to do this, but you’re not a big enough piece of shit to just walk away.

You duck out of the shop, pulling your costume from your bag, zooming to a nearby alleyway to change.

Flying out and feeling slightly uncomfortable having to wear your outfit in day hours, you zero in on the snake, its mouth open and elongated to a horrifying degree.

Huffing, you dive down fist first, hitting its centre, diverting its attention to you rather than the escaping civilians.

“I…really don’t have any quips prepared for snakes,” you note, dodging the beast’s tail, before grabbing it, lifting the snake into the air.

Rearing its head around, the snake bares its fangs at you, hissing.

“That’s not going to do anything,” you reply.

You’re quickly proven wrong when a second smaller, but still freakishly large snake exits its mouth as a projectile, causing you to drop it in surprise as you swerve out of the way.

“Oh, what the fuck,” you breathe out.

Sighing, you press a hand to your temple as you realize you now have to deal with two snakes hellbent on destroying the city.

Before you can act, a pink figure and a flying car whiz past you, small explosions distracting the snakes as pink energy pulses and duplicates fill your vision.

You know them. Kind of. Mark follows them on instagram.

Huffing, you swoop down grabbing the larger snake once again by the tail before tossing it high in the sky, flying after it, quickly contorting the snake’s body into a knot as you descend, finally placing it against the shattered road. Watching it writhe uselessly, you feel a bit guilty.

Turning around you notice the second snake is also contained, concrete molded to keep it in place. Definitely the work of Atom Eve, you guess.

You’re grateful your face is covered when the four heroes approach you. You want to go home, but it would be a dick move to just fly away.

The android greets you first, extending a metal hand, “Singularity, we have not met before. I am Robot.”

You shake his hand, “…I’ve heard of you all before. You do good work.”

“Oh! You’re Singularity? I didn’t even realize with the new costume!” Atom Eve blurts out. “It looks good! Sleek and serious…”

She’s young. You already knew they would be because of their team name, but she’s Mark’s age. She looks like a kid to you. You wonder if you looked so young. If you still do.

The red and yellow clad hero at her side, Rexsplode you think, scoffs, “You look like an edgelord, is this, like, your emo phase or something?”

Yes, you think.

“Or something,” you respond.

“Well, you look like you stepped out of Bloodborne—ow!” He’s cut off when Atom Eve punches his arm, “What was that for!?”

“You’re just acting pouty because you can’t stare at her ass anymore!”

Even while wearing his goggles, you could tell his eyes were frantically flickering between you and the pink clad hero.

“Wh-what? No way, why would you even suggest something so—“

“Rex, your following list is public, we all know you follow an account dedicated to zooming in on the asses of female heroes.”

“Ahhh, what? I must have accidentally misclicked—-“

Maybe you should pay whoever runs that account a visit.

“I wouldn’t mind them too much,” The black haired girl speaks up.

“Them arguing is pretty common,” an exact copy of her follows up. Dupli-Kate.

“If you say so,” you blankly say. Are you socializing?

“Still your new costume is a pretty drastic change, I don’t think anymore would be able to link you to being…you,” she continues.

“I do more stealth work these days, the white was too attention catching.” You explain. “And having criminals freeze when do they see me is pretty convenient. Darkwing probably gets a kick out of it too.”

“Heh, I certainly wouldn’t want to run into you in a dark alleyway.”

“Singularity,” Robot begins, “I had been waiting for a opportunity to offer—“

Whatever he says is interrupted when you hear the buzzing of your phone from the alleyway you left your stuff in.

“Sorry, I have to go.” You dash into the alley way, grabbing your bag before shooting into the sky.

(“Ohhh, Robot got rejected!” Rex laughs.

“It is a shame, I had simply wanted to offer her a place on the team.”)

“Finally, what took you so long?” Mark asks, eagerly snatching your bag to root through it before triumphantly retrieving his comic.

“Ran into some people I know,” you sigh, sinking into the couch next to your brother, William who sat on his other side wordlessly passes a controller to you.

“You? Talking to people?” Mark stares at you as William chokes on a laugh.

“They needed directions,” you fib.

“That makes more sense,” he nods.

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who only has one friend,” you scowl.

“She’s got a point,” William grins.

“Well, that’s still one more than you! You literally play Street Fighter and Tekken by yourself all the time! Like at least play online or something,” Mark retorts.

“I,” you start, “have friends.”

A beat of silence passes.

“You’re really good at fighting games,” William consoles you.

“Yeah, you’re the best one here,” Mark places a hand on your shoulder.

“Fuck you, guys…”

(The next day at school, after flying you and Mark a block away from school, you arrive at the entrance and enter the too loud hallway.

“I’ll see you after class, mom said we could order something for dinner tonight, but I was thinking we could maybe go to Seoul or—“

Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of orange hair catches your attention for a moment.

“Hey, are you even listening?” Mark asks, irritated.

You shove him into a locker, “No going overseas.”

“Ah, come on!”)

Bonus:

“There you go, just let yourself float,” your dad praises you, hands holding you up as he hovers miles above the ground. “Don’t be nervous, I won’t let you fall.”

You grip his hands, shakily trying to keep yourself up.

“Pretend you’re a cloud,” he offers, slowly releasing his grip on you, watching proudly as you manage to support yourself. “Alright, now you’re getting it!”

“I’m tired, dad,” you complain, grabbing his outstretched hand, letting yourself rely on him to hold you up.

“Okay, okay, we can go home now,” he chuckles, “I guess you’re too tired to get any ice cream now…”

You perk up, “Well, I’m not that tired…”

“Come on, if you can make half the way by yourself, I’ll get you three scoops,” your dad smiles down at you.

You grin at him excitedly before zooming away.

He only raises an eyebrow. “And suddenly she’s flying like a pro…”

Alright, this was mostly some filler, next post is for the other Marks, and then I’ll get into Oliver and Invincible war stuff, I promise!

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

[stealingyourbones]

Zeta Beams are a very finicky and powerful technology that require specific conditions to work properly.

Being shot with an unknown ray from one of Lex Luthors guns mid zeta was not one of those conditions.

Superboy, reappearing out of the zeta beam, now dazed and confused, stumbles and leans against the closest solid object and takes in his surroundings.

He’s in a lab of some sort, and whoever used it knew a wide variety of sciences. Chemistry equipment consolidated to one corner of the room while a mildly cluttered bench of mechanisms, welding equipment, and doohickeys take over another corner of the room. The entire workplace was bathed in a toxic green light coming from…

Kon turned and gawked at the massive swirling green vortex and pushed off the metal edge of the tear in reality that he had been leaning on.

His mind was running miles a minute. He was meant to be at the Watchtower and he’s here in some windowless laboratory and a portal that looks like something straight out of science fiction. He doesn’t know what to do but all of his scrambling thoughts screeched to a halt the moment he heard footsteps and an unknown heartbeat coming down a set of stairs he hadn’t noticed on his quick scan of the room.

He should have flown to the ceiling and hid or used his X-Ray vision to identify the threat but he was reeling so badly he just stood frozen in place, a foot or two away from the portal casting a long shadow that cut through the violently green glow.

A man in an orange jumpsuit barrels down the stairs with- is that a bazooka?

The orange wall of a human man whipped around the barrel to face him. “DIE GHOST!”.

“I’m sorry what?”

Kon didn’t get a verbal answer but he sure as hell got a physical one. The man pulled the trigger and a glowing green bullet of *something* shot towards him. Kon momentarily debated dodging out of the way with his super speed but thought better of it. Robin would tell him to stay still and show the threat that he couldn’t be harmed to shut down the fight before it could escalate any further.

Blocking his face from debris, Kon closes his eyes and lets the projectile make contact.

He expected to be thrown back into the strange vortex portal thing or feel the impact, but to his surprise he felt absolutely nothing. Whatever glowing green and white metallic stuff he was hit with, he was completely invulnerable to as a half Kryptonian.

(It is at this point where I sped the writing along to bullet point outlines)

- Kon goes hey wtf man I’m not a ghost

- Jack doesn’t buy it it might be a ghost trick.

- Jack slowly walks up to Kon with a Fenton bat.

- Kon stares at him arms crossed. He knows now he can’t be hurt

- Jack, making full eye contact with Kon and goes ‘you can’t fool me ghost’ or something and hits him over the head with the bat.

- Bat shatters over Kon’s head as Kon stares at him and does a “are you done?”

- as he says this Jack Fenton slowly raises a lipstick lazer

- Jack turns on lazer and Kon glares at Jack exasperatedly.

- Kon’s patience runs out. He grabs the lazer from jacks hands and crushes it in his palm.

- I’m not a ghost man. I was trying to zeta to the watchtower and now I’m here now can you stop??

- Jack doesn’t understand what those words mean. Mutters that this might be a fascinating new discovery and goes over to the tech corner

- Grabs a tsa metal detector wand looking thing and waves it over Kon, who hasnt moved and is now curious to see what this man will do knowing now that he can’t be hurt. (Later found that this universe boosts his powers a tad which is making him More Invulnerable)

- It beeps and jack looks at it and his face of confusion turns to a massive grin. He turns towards the stairs and shouts to Maddie that they have a extradimensional non ghost guest and to move the ghost gear out of the guest room.

- Kon is like what the shit why did this mans attitude chanhe so much

- kon is then temporarily housed by the Fentons whilst they are delighted to start on a new big project. they plan to make an addition onto the ghost zone portal to find the frequency of other dimensions and make a gateway between them using Kon as the tuning fork to find his dimension.

[pomegranatelifethis]

Don't move away

Living in Gotham was already hard enough, but being one of Bruce Wayne’s adopted kids made life even more complicated. Sometimes, their protective instincts were just too much. The constant surveillance, the way they always needed to know where you were… You knew they loved you, but it was suffocating.

So, you started pulling away.

At first, it was subtle—replying to their messages less, skipping out on visits to the Batcave, avoiding training sessions. Then, you took bigger steps—going on patrol alone, disappearing without notice. But the Batfamily never lets one of their own go so easily.

One Evening…

You were hanging out with Harper Row, one of the few people who actually understood you. But when you got home, the entire Batfamily was waiting for you in the Batcave.

Bruce stood with his arms crossed, his gaze stern as always, but there was concern underneath.

“How many times are we going to have this conversation?” he asked, his voice deep and steady.

Dick stepped forward, his usual gentle but disappointed expression in place. “Why won’t you talk to us? We’re not trying to control you, but you’re putting yourself in danger.”

Jason let out a sharp laugh. “Just let them go. Maybe they want to be away from the family.” His tone was laced with sarcasm, but there was hurt there too.

Tim, eyes tired but observant, studied you. “Is this just about wanting to be alone, or is there something else going on?”

Damian was the quietest, but his furrowed brows showed his disapproval. “You’re making yourself weaker,” he stated. “Distancing yourself from us won’t make you stronger.”

All eyes were on you. You had to say something—but your brain short-circuited.

Then, as if fate itself had it out for you, it happened.

You took a step back in panic—

And your foot caught on some cables.

“Oh, no—”

Before you could finish your sentence, a chain reaction began:

You stumbled backward, knocking over a water bottle on the table.

Water splashed onto the Batcave’s main computer console.

Sparks flew as alarms blared. “EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!”

In your frantic attempt to regain balance, your arm swung wildly—sending Alfred’s freshly brewed tea soaring through the air.

The cup’s contents landed right onto Tim’s laptop.

“NO! My notes!” Tim yelled, frantically trying to save his screen.

Panicking, you backed up—only to bump into a shelf.

The impact sent all the Batarangs flying.

“GET DOWN!” Dick shouted, diving to the floor with Jason.

Damian, with ninja-like reflexes, pulled out his sword to deflect the incoming projectiles. One Batarang missed Bruce’s head by an inch, embedding itself into the wall behind him.

Bruce took a deep breath, pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes in what could only be described as extreme patience.

Jason, still lying on the floor, looked at you in disbelief. “How? How do you do this?”

Face burning with embarrassment, you tried to steady yourself—only to accidentally knock Damian’s Robin mask off the table. It hit the floor with a soft plop.

Silence.

“I… uh…” you started, but Bruce finally spoke.

“Alright.” He opened his eyes, surveying the absolute disaster around him. “We are all going to sit down and talk. But first,” his gaze swept over the chaos, “we’re cleaning this up.”

Dick sighed. “New record, Y/N.”

Jason was still laughing. “You could literally destroy Gotham with your clumsiness.”

Tim, aggressively drying his laptop, muttered, “Seriously, how?”

Damian scowled. “Is this a skill or a curse?”

You looked down, utterly mortified. “I… was trying to get away from the family. I guess I failed?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, but there was the faintest hint of a smile. “Yes. Yes, you did.”

And in that moment—despite all the chaos—you realized something: No matter what you did, no matter how much you tried to push them away, they weren’t going to let you go.

Cleaning up the mess took longer than expected. Tim was still salvaging his laptop, Dick and Jason were gathering the scattered Batarangs, and Damian—still glaring—was carefully placing his sword back in its sheath.

Bruce? He just stood there, arms crossed, watching you.

“Do you have anything you want to tell us?”

You cleared your throat. “Uh… no?”

Jason burst out laughing. “Still trying to escape? Just admit it—there’s no way out of this family. You’ll take down the whole city in the process.”

Dick shook his head. “But seriously, why are you pulling away from us? Yeah, we can be a lot sometimes, but we care about you.”

You avoided their gazes. “I know… but sometimes you guys are just too much. I need space.”

Tim sighed. “So… you want us to leave you alone?”

Before you could respond, you accidentally knocked over Damian’s coffee.

Damian’s eyes widened in horror as the liquid spilled across his files.

“THE REPORT I PREPARED FOR THE TITANS!” he yelled, scrambling to salvage his documents. “Y/N, seriously?!”

Jason had collapsed onto the floor, laughing hysterically. “Oh, this is gold! No one is safe around you!”

You took a step back, utterly mortified, but Bruce just shook his head.

“Y/N, if you want to leave, fine. But know this—you can run as far as you want. We’ll always find you.”

Dick nodded. “And no matter what you do, we’ll always forgive you. Even if you cause total destruction.”

Damian scowled. “Or… at least, we’ll train you.”

Tim suddenly looked thoughtful. “Actually… if we harnessed Y/N’s clumsiness, this could be a huge tactical advantage. Imagine—taking down enemies accidentally.”

Jason was still laughing. “YES! Gotham’s greatest weapon—THE MASTER OF CHAOS!”

Your eyes narrowed. “Do not turn that into a superhero name.”

But it was too late.

Dick and Jason dramatically posed. “CHAOS!” they shouted in unison.

Bruce sighed, massaging his temples. “There is no discipline in this house.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe… distancing yourself wasn’t the solution after all. Because no matter what kind of chaos you brought, this family wasn’t going to let you go.

And, honestly?

This was probably just the beginning.

[lumi077]

X-Men HCs

A/N: my hyperfixations are not very hyperfixating rn. literally they’re changing so fast. But take some nice little relationship headcanons, and the next Chapter of Winters’ Servants is coming soon!!

Characters included: Logan (Wolverine), Scott (Cyclops), Kurt (NightCrawler), Jean

Warnings: potential OOC, nothing else really. kept it nice and light.

Logan (Wolverine):

Logan would absolutely, if you use them, stretch out your new hairbands for you. If you express that you dislike using them unless stretched, he’ll offer to wear them on his wrists for a day or two till they’re stretched to your liking. It could be the most girly hair ties and he’ll proudly wear three on each wrist. When asked, he’ll happily tell them “Just stretchin ‘em for my woman/man/partner”

Scary dog privileges? Scary dog privileges. He adores making you feel safe enough to wear the most skin revealing or feminine clothing. You want to wear something revealing/very feminine but tell him you're scared? He’ll instantly assure you and tell you to wear anything you want. If someone says something, he won’t hesitate to shut them up before you even hear.

There’s going to be a point in your relationship that you’ll realize he absolutely doesn’t care about any of the gross stuff you do. Burp, Fart, don’t shave? He really doesn’t care in the least bit. Definitely the boyfriend that will go, unphased, into the bathroom while you're on the toilet and brush his teeth or shower without a care in the world. If you are comfortable that is, and he secretly preens when he realizes that you're comfy enough to do that stuff around him lol.

I wholeheartedly believe that when he realizes he wants you to be his forever partner, he’ll gift you his dog tags. His past is very personal to him, because he could never remember it for a good part of it. His dog tags are only second to him getting down on one knee. 

Speaking of getting down on one knee, sorry for all the people who want it to be a surprise, but he won’t make a big deal and will tell you about his plans beforehand. No surprise engagement, and no public one. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he wants to make sure you’re ready and want it too. He doesn’t put much on marriage because it doesn’t change much, and doesn't want you to feel pressured to say yes because there are people there. He’ll love you the same married or not, but he does note how pretty you look with the ring he bought you on your finger.

I personally believe he would be more likely to get in a committed relationship with another mutant. I just think a lot of the X-Men would want to be able to relate to their partner and have their partner relate to them, and Logan is going to live a long life so…I can't truly see him with a normal person. 

If you are apart of the X-Men, while he won’t baby you or anything, he finds himself keeping an eye on you the most. There have been a fair amount of times that you find yourself having a Logan shield on the field, and even more often if you are susceptible to projectiles. 

Dates are a norm at this point, Fridays are always the day he takes you out. It’s usually the same place, but he thinks it’s nice. 

Flowers are also a norm, if you mention you like them. 

He doesn’t do much on Valentine’s day because he already does all the normal valentine’s day stuff it weekly or bi-weekly. Does get cheat food so you guys can eat it and watch stupid rom com movies though. 

Scott (Cyclops):

First and Foremost Scott is such a golden retriever. Anything you want, he obtains quickly and with 0 thoughts of you getting him something in return. He just wants to see his partner happy and healthy, with a smile on their face as often as possible.

He is very big on PDA, likes to hold your hand, or slip an arm around your waist, put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, etc. Overall he just likes touching you, and just because you're in public doesn’t mean anything.

Adding on to his liking of PDA, I feel like he’s possessive. Like in the one X-Men movie, when Logan goes into the past and stops bad shit from happening and goes to touch Jean and he blocks him? Yeah he does that with you but with everyone. He likes people knowing your his and what’s better than you two being attached at the hip in public?

He likes when you wear his things as well, not so much for people knowing you’re his like mentioned above but just because you're adorable in it. Want his sweatshirt? He’s giving it to you even though it's negative 5 out. His cologne? Just take the whole bottle, even though it’s brand new. He’ll get another one!!

When he’s on missions and away, he gives you so many shirts and even a pair of sweats. Sprays the stuffed animals he got you with his cologne, same with your pillows. He will expect the same if it’s you going away for a long time. Or you’ll come back to him sleeping on your side of the bed where it smells the most like you, his face stuffed in one of your pillows that has one of your shirts on it. 

He is very vocal about being your boyfriend, and you being his partner. Everyone in the world knows, yet no one asked. He’ll gush about you to whoever will listen, the rest of the team is so done but they do admit his devotion to you is adorable.

All the ladies and gents and nonbinary pals who want an over the top surprise proposal, this is your man. It’s super romantic, he pays for your nails if you wear them, getting your hair done, and a new outfit. And you can’t even tell it’s because he wants to propose because he does this all the time. Then he takes you to your fav restaurant and pops the question.

Make no mistake though, he has to be 100% sure that you want him to propose to do so. He’s so attuned to you and your likings he gets your dream ring without having to ask everyone close to you first. Which also assures him no one can spoil the surprise.

He is one of the few ones who probably doesn’t care if you're a mutant or not, because his love is 100% blind. He would probably want a mutant partner, but once he falls he falls hard.

He also won’t baby you if you’re in the X-Men, but if he happens to laser them first? Not his fault.

Kurt (NightCrawler):

He is a very shy partner at first. But once he falls for you, and you make it obvious you have fallen for him it all goes out the window. He is a completely different person around you, confident and flirty. He is just so in love. 

Teases you almost constantly, he’s a teaser with everyone but he loves to see you blush and squirm from his words. 

Loves if you run your fingers through his fur, and almost emits a low purr when you do. If you brush it for him, especially if he doesn’t ask you but you WANT to, he swears he is going to marry you one day. 

He takes you places you told him you wanted to go to when you guys were in the talking stage. Paris? Done, let’s get some baguettes for back home! The Bahamas? Pack a bathing suit, and make sure to bring the detangling brush.

He loves non sexual acts of intimacy, like taking baths together!! Your fingers feel like heaven on his scalp when you massage the shampoo and conditioner in his hair. He also loves touching your body, he’s always careful with the fact he has claws but he would never dream of hurting you.

Big on cuddling and all that stuff in private, but I feel like he would want to keep it behind closed doors. Not because he doesn’t love you, but because he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands on you otherwise. 

Long missions with him are never a problem, he’ll just teleport to you wherever you may be and spend time with you before heading back. 

He’s your call bird, and the gossip you two are able to share with one another? It is divine. He seems to know everything, and you know the most obvious stuff but he always makes you feel like Sherlock Holmes when you tell him things he already heard and was going to tell you about. Which is why he always makes you spill the tea first lol.

For marriage and proposing, I can see him accidentally proposing on a mission. Tensions are high, and he’s worried that one of you won’t make it home to the other. The thought alone makes him dread the upcoming battle, but he grabs your hand and looks into your eyes and states with all the conviction in the world “We’ll get married after this.”

You brush it off, after you both survive the battle, that he didn’t mean it. He just wanted you to know how much he loved you. But oh how wrong you are when you walk into a room with all your close friends and family, Kurt in the middle down on one knee and asking you to marry him. Your face was priceless, and lucky for him everyone took pictures. 

He definitely carries around a photo with you wherever he goes, and when he prays he takes it out and not only asks that God protect him, but you as well because there is no life beyond you. Even if you’re not religious he’ll still do it, just for the peace of mind. 

Jean:

She’s the black cat of the relationship for sure. I mean, she has a lot of issues but she always makes you her first priority. 

She keeps tabs on you constantly. What’s your mood, why? She’ll talk to you in your mind when you’re anxious to calm you, and let you know that she’s there with you. She’s probably an anxious persons’ best friend. You don’t even have to talk, she knows what you mean and changes accordingly. 

She is big on communication for sure. If you do something that bothers or hurts her feelings she will sit you down and talk to you about it. And she has this certain way of doing that doesn’t make you feel guilty. She’s just letting you know what she does and doesn’t like and won’t tell anyone else. These things are very private to her. And she expects you to do the same, and her feelings are never hurt by it. 

Jean’s type of love is selfless. She would put herself in danger tenfold just to keep you safe. Mutant or not, she would be the one to baby you if you’re a part of the X-Men as well. There’s always a kind of bubble around you, that not many but you notice. Hence, people think you’re indestructible because you’re the only one who came back uninjured for the fourth time. 

She wants to be independent, but also loves when you do stuff for her. She will never ask, but her heart warms so much when she sees you did something for her because you wanted too and not because she asked. 

She plans your dream proposal. She is almost a roommate in your own mind, she knows what you like and don’t like. 

Small extra blurb: imagine giving telepathic hints that you want a proposal. She thinks “Why are they broadcasting their ring si-ooooh. I see.”

She is so gentle with you, almost afraid that you’ll break and it’ll be all her fault. The way her hands gently caress you or how she holds your hand is so incredibly gentle.

[horizontwinflames]

Horizon AU: Twin Flames - Isaac's final armor and weapons variations (Zero Dawn Act). Text transcription under the cut after the images!

REPOST, EDIT/USE OR FEED MY ART TO AI ISN'T ALLOWED

Edit: Updated some text on the Oseram and Banuk arts.

You can read Isaac's lore here: [LINK]

Will he use those variations in the story? Yes! :D hehe. Also, in this AU only Aloy wears Oseran armor while only Beta wears Carja armor, because Oseran's armor is too heavy and noisy for Beta's stealth strategies, while Carja's armor is too weak for Aloy's melee fighting style.

This AU has an ongoing fanfic! You can read on Ao3: [LINK]

Text transcription:

Ravager's cannon: It gives Isaac the ability to fire rapidly like a Ravager can, but with much more precision. It can also do charged-up shots for more heavy damage. This is the most noiseless ranged weapon from Isaac, allowing the charged shot to be used for sniping. Up to two coils can be equipped.

Stalker Blade Tail: The swiftest and lightest melee weapon from Isaac's arsenal. It's the best pick to fight against lightweight machines and stealth attacks. Its thin shape and ability to spin and move up and down (at an angle of about 120 degrees) can also be used for precision attacks (e.g., to take off machine components or stealth-stabbing humans).

Nora's stealth armor: The natural materials of this armor allow Isaac to camouflage better within the natural landscape. The lack of metal pieces also helps reduce noise while moving. This armor is resistant to shock and ice damage but weak against fire and corrosion damage. Up to three weaves can be equipped.

Thunderjaw’s Disk Launcher: Isaac can use the disks like a Thunderjaw can or launch them at a high speed. It’s not an easy weapon to use, as its recoil can destabilize Isaac if he’s in movement, and it has a very slow recharge, but it’s the heaviest damage dealer from the arsenal. Its firepower can make big explosions and great area damage. Up to two coils can be equipped.

Thunderjaw’s Tail: It is the second heaviest and slowest melee weapon Isaac has, but when used correctly, it can cause great damage to his targets, destroy some types of human constructions, stun machines, and even kill humans on the spot. Its shovel-like shape also allows Isaac to throw objects away (with very poor precision) or even yeet Aloy and Beta to help them reach places or to aid in some fight strategy.

Oseram's tank armor: Made of the best Oseram hard leather and steel, this armor greatly protects Isaac, making him much more resistant to various damage kinds. However, the materials weigh him and consequently slow him down, thus making him sink underwater, and he needs to use more energy for his leaps and high jumps. This armor is highly resistant to corrosion and fire damage but has some weak spots for ice and shock damage. Up to three weaves can be equipped.

Bellowback’ Snout: This weapon is an adapted version of the Bellowback’s ranged elemental weapon for Isaac. It gives him the ability to shoot fire or acid projectiles. It can also be used as a close-range defense weapon; hence, it can be used as a flamethrower or acid jet-like gun as well. Up to two coils can be equipped.

Stormbird’s Tail: Isaac can use this weapon like a Stormbird: an electric whip-like melee weapon, still keeping the shocking damage but in a much smaller range and potency. However, if not used cautiously, the whip can get stuck in places or be grabbed by bigger machines. This tail is also useful for Isaac to balance himself while climbing or walking in places such as metal columns in ruins. Isaac must have this tail equipped to be able to swim underwater correctly.

Carja’s speed armor: The sisters arranged the traditional Carja clothing adornments in a way that makes Isaac more aerodynamic, and the lightness of the materials also helps Isaac run faster, leap further, and jump higher than he normally could. Although pretty, the materials of this armor aren’t made for battle, leaving Isaac vulnerable to all kinds of damage - especially physical damage. Up to three weaves can be equipped.

Scorcher’s Mine Launcher: Aside from the normal mines a scorcher can use, this version of its weapon also has the option to use stick mines. Either version of ammos can be used on battle strategies of timed controlled explosions, as the mines won’t explode until they get hit. These mines have two versions: fire and electric explosions. Up to two coils can be equipped.

Frostclaw’s Front Paw: The closest Isaac will get to “grabby hands” so far. It’s the biggest physical damage dealer but the slowest melee weapon due to its heavy weight. Isaac can not just inflict heavy damage but also use the big hand to grab huge objects and machines way bigger than him. This weapon is so heavy that it may destabilize him during curves at high speed, compromise his balance while climbing, and increase the needed energy to sprint, jump, and leap.

Banuk Power Armor: The Sobecks learned with the Banuk crafting how to improve the energy flow and distribution on a machine. This armor increases Isaac's total stamina energy and reduces the needed charge to sprint, jump, or leap. The improved energy flow also helps increase the damage from Isaac’s melee and ranged weapons. However, the increase in the energy flow makes Isaac heat up way faster if not used correctly. Up to three weaves can be equipped.

[millimeraki]

A Writer & A Painter | Verso Dessendre

(Part 2 - If you haven’t yet, go read part 1 for getting the full picture)

[Real Verso / Fem!Reader]

Part 1 ◂ Part 2 ▸ Part 3

Word Count: ~ 7k Rating: E (contains smut) Author's Note: I was overwhelmed with all the love coming my way after part 1 🥹 Didn’t expect that honestly! So yay, have part 2. I hope I can live up to expectations. I have all these headcanons about the Writer’s powers, but also, there is smut cause Verso’s face needs to be between those legs. So I really tried to keep it balanced. Reader ist now Fem, I was able to keep it Gen in the first part, but for this, well… There will be one more part! 

You opened your eyes with a yelp.

You had manifested stories you had written yourself before. You had even stepped into stories written by others. Your closest friends, who wanted to share them with you, to invite you into their worlds and show you what the perfect construct of thought meant to them. So you’d thought yourself used to experiencing these subjectively unparalleled stagings, and then finding yourself back where you had entered the manuscript, the first page in front of you, without the urge to to dive right back in.

But you hadn’t been prepared for how much more powerful the experience would be when it involved a real person written between those pages. Especially not in the way you had crafted the encounter, a short but intense scene meant to convince you to never return to the Dessendre manor, to burn the paper and leave for the countryside with Soleil the next morning, letting time bury both the matter and your feelings.

Instead, the written words had devoured you whole, so much so that you’d momentarily lost touch with what was fiction and what was real. The written Verso had entered your bedroom, carrying the hungry look you had given him, had grabbed you tightly, loved you roughly.

Somewhere in the maelstrom of emotion and sensation, you’d started to accept it as a new truth. You’d felt the exact moment hit, so revealing, it had allowed you to take back control. Your story had, for a short while, refused to be seen as just that, and you’d had to pull yourself together, had to remember that you had deliberately not described how you actually perceived Verso, so this false version of him would be the last thing you experienced with him.

Your plan hadn’t quite worked out. You now understood why the council members argued so fiercely over the ethics of it all. With just this one manifestation, you had almost lost yourself in what you had shared with a real person in there. Worse yet, it consumed you even now, knowing that you could write what you truly thought of Verso, and how he would treat you in this room, with reverence and abandon instead of roughness and possession. You wanted to experience it. Your plan had failed, you wanted more. You never should have tried, because now you knew what it could feel like.

You pressed your hand on your throat to feel your racing pulse, to ground yourself in reality and get your breath under control. How long had you spent between the pages? It had taken you quite some time to write it in the first place. It had to be the middle of the night by now. The breeze from your open balcony door dried the sweat on your forehead.

You moved to get up and close it when suddenly a small projectile sailed through, and you had to dodge it with another yelp. It landed on your duvet. Soleil, back on the bed after you had been sitting quietly in front of your desk for long enough, immediately perked up and leapt playfully after the tiny thing.

“Soleil, don't!” you implored her, alarmed.

You rushed over to see what had just come flying through your window and was now pinned under Soleil’s paws. The little cat meowed in protest as you removed her from her prey. What came into view was just a pebble. Confused, you picked it up, turned the tiny stone between your fingers, inspecting it under the faint glow of your bedside lamp. It really was just that.

At that moment, another one hit the back of your head. “Ouch! What the…” Cautiously, you made your way to the balcony door, stepping outside to peer down at the street in search of the source of the attack.

“Oh, merde…” you muttered, then raised your voice in a sharp whisper, “What are you doing here?!”

Verso stood below, near the entrance of your house, already mid-motion to throw the next little stone through your open window. He paused when he saw you, lowering his arm. The silence of the night stretched out between you. His face was barely lit by a distant streetlamp, his features half hidden in shadow. Shifting restlessly, he glanced down at the uneven cobblestones beneath his feet, then just threw his arms into the air.

“I couldn’t just let you walk away,” he said, dragging a hand across his face.

“You did,” you replied, still trying to tame the storm inside you, the wind at your back pushing you toward him.

“And then came to find you.”

“Well, that’s just creepy.” You rolled your eyes. “How did you even find my house?”

Verso gestured around vaguely. “I asked the neighbors.”

You raised an eyebrow. “But it’s the middle of the night.”

“I might’ve asked a few more people.”

Your expression softened. He’d searched for you until the moon stood high in the sky. Had asked more people than he could count, only to end up at your doorstep, too afraid to knock, scared you wouldn’t open the door.

“Verso, you can’t…” you began, and even just starting the sentence made the barely patched-up wound in your heart split open again.

“Let’s just talk,” he pleaded, his raised voice echoing into the night.

You winced. “Please don’t be so loud.” This wasn’t his part of town. Writers lived here. Who knew who he’d asked. Chances were the council would be informed by morning that Verso Dessendre had come asking about your address. Some people had likely refused to tell him anything, surprised he was asking about you at all. Some kind soul, probably the old lady from down the street, must’ve been swayed by his handsome, longing face.

“I don’t care who sees or hears me,” he shot back, a little louder this time. “And I won’t leave until we’ve talked.”

“Putain, Verso,” you complained in frustration before pushing away from your balcony railing without another word. You absolutely believed he would wake the neighbors and put himself in danger just to make his point.

You hurried down your narrow hallway staircase, past the turnoff to your living room and into the equally small entrance of your home, yanking the door open. He had already positioned himself in front of it, so you grabbed him by the collar to pull him inside quickly, and hopefully unnoticed.

“Alright, listen,” you tried to be the voice of reason, “you can’t do that. You can’t be searching for me in this part of the city. You know how dangerous that is for you. And we can’t…” The words caught in your throat. You’d managed to say them with conviction once, but a second time? Not when he looked at you like that. With that soft, dreamy look in his eyes, that gentle smile on his lips.

“You think this is funny?” you asked, folding your arms, his tender gaze tightening around your heart like a vice.

“I don’t,” he murmured, lifting a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. You inhaled sharply. “It’s just that –” he watched his fingers trace softly along your cheek, tucking the hair behind your ear as you held your breath, “I don’t care how dangerous it is. I told you, I don’t care. The time I spend with you, it’s…” He inhaled shakily. “It’s the first time I feel like I can actually be me. You know me. I never thought anyone would. I’d go through hell to be with you.”

Your resolve faltered. This was the man you’d write poetry about. The one you were too afraid to experience, because you feared he would consume you, that you’d never want to leave his arms again.

“You have to go,” you snapped yourself out of the trance he was pulling you into. Waving your hands, you forced his touch away, then pushed past him head over heels, fleeing upwards, nearly tripping on the stairs, darting past Soleil, who was trotting toward Verso with her tail raised.

“You little traitor!” You exclaimed, pointing accusingly at your fluffy cat, now contentedly hanging in Verso’s arms at the base of the staircase. “Leave, Verso – but don’t take my cat.” That made Verso smile, not your intention, but he was breaking down your barricades, one by one, and you wouldn’t be able to resist him much longer.

You heard him follow you up the stairs, his pursuit only fueling the excitement and confusion bubbling inside you, conflicting feelings tearing you apart. Your door never reached the lock; it was stopped by Verso’s hand. Standing in your bedroom, you turned to face him. Soleil had disappeared from his arms.

“We don’t really know each other, Verso. Look,” you pointed to your desk, where the papers now lay scattered, no longer in the neat order you’d once arranged them in, disheveled by all the chaos of the last hours. You reached into the mess, pulled out a single page and held it up to his face before turning back toward the window, your voice building into a blind, frustrated tirade. “I am a Writer. You don’t know anything about me. You are a Painter. I don’t know anything about you.”

What you did know about the craft of Painters came from secondary sources, admittedly, but it was enough to understand how utterly opposite the two of you were. Writers, those who scripted things into perfection and manifestation. The more advanced ones could absorb words to invoke states. And Painters, those who created imperfect, sentient worlds with free thought, essentially playing God. Within your circle, there was always consensus that the powers of Painters were unnatural, an abomination, and that their works should not be traded for such absurd amounts of money. What might they say in his circle about the Writers?

You scoffed and turned back toward Verso, ready to repeat that you didn’t know each other, even though you knew exactly what he meant. But you were forced to stop in your tracks. Verso was holding the page you had just shoved at him, reading it with rapt, almost haunted attention. Your heart dropped to your stomach. You glanced back at the stack of papers from which you’d pulled it. Your hand shot to your mouth the moment it opened in shock. Eyes wide, you froze, caught in a moment of horror you couldn’t yet escape.

“Well, maybe we really don’t know each other, because that is not how I would…” He trailed off, a startled snort escaping him as he reached the end of the page. He flipped it over to check the back, then lifted his eyes, clearly surprised, to look at you.

The instinct to explain yourself hit you instantly. You couldn’t possibly let him believe you really saw him the way you’d described him on that page. You snatched the paper from his hands. “That was clearly not meant for your eyes. And, I know this is not how you would –” You paused briefly. “How you would do this. In fact –” You inhaled, exhaled, “I should never have done this. It’s highly forbidden where I come from to weave others into your writing. I wrote it like that because I hoped it would help me get over it.”

Verso raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “By describing me like some kind of manhandling caveman?”

“Hey, it is not that primitive,” you defended your prose. You had tried to write it poetically, hadn’t you? Had given him warm, praising words to say. “Besides, if you think it’s that unflattering, then maybe I did the job right.” You placed the sheet back on your desk.

He looked at it again, this time with a stricter, more confused, and troubled gaze. “And what do you do with this, exactly? Did you plan on using it on me? So I’d take you like that, and then you could definitely not look me in the eye after?"

You blinked, baffled by the implication. What did he mean by that? “N-No. It’s –” He didn't seem to know much about the power of the Writers. Or maybe he only knew about the most powerful ones. “It’s not like that. I wouldn’t even know if it’s possible to affect someone like that, let alone with normal ink. I just… lived through it.”

Verso’s tense, angry features softened a little, though his arms remained crossed. “Lived through it? Like, you entered it?”

You nodded.

Now his posture eased as well. “I see. I can see why you think it to be forbidden.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “I feel a little violated.”

“I’m so sorry.” You scrambled to gather all the pages on your desk, shoving them into a drawer to get them out of his sight, so he wouldn’t have to bear the shame of seeing them. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was deeply wrong. It stripped you of your agency. It was dangerous. And it didn’t even help.”

All those warnings your family had drilled into you had been right. You had violated Verso’s deepest privacy, to him, off all people, you should have shown more respect. And your shame over it didn’t exactly help you push back against his presence. It gnawed at you, eroded your defenses from within.

“It’s okay,” Verso tried to ease your guilt. “I get it. It’s the desire to experience something you don’t believe you can ever truly have.” He moved toward you with a smooth motion, his fingers trailing lightly along the edge of your bed frame. Nervously, you watched his approach. If he didn’t leave now, if he so much as uttered another declaration of affection, you wouldn’t be able to resist him any longer.

“So what you’re really saying is, you didn’t like it? What you wrote?” His eyes sparkled with the slightest hint of mischief as his gaze shifted from the bed to you.

Your heart, which had only just begun to settle, picked up its pace again. You cursed yourself for having accidentally handed him that sheet of paper. “I really thought I would… just get over you with this,” you said, your eyes drifting to a small uneven spot in the wallpaper opposite you, desperate not to meet his inquisitive gaze. “That I could create a moment that was enough without being real. I should have known better. So, no, I didn’t like it. Quite the opposite…”

“You asked yourself what the real thing would be like,” Verso said, reading your innermost thoughts with eerie precision.

You saw him come closer out of the corner of your eye, so close you were forced to look at him if you wanted any hope of stopping what you both actually wanted. The hardwood floor creaked under the weight of his meaningful steps. It fell silent when he finally stood in front of you. You looked up at him as his hands gently found your upper arms, the touch so innocent, yet it made your nerves spike up uncontrollably.

“Verso…” Your voice faltered, barely a whisper, and you knew you’d been lost the entire time, your restistance merely a self-prompted spectacle.

His soft, sincere smile only began to quench the thirst you had for him.

His careful touch sent a shiver down your spine as it hovered just above the fabric of your loosely buttoned, dark cotton shirt, gliding upward until his fingertips met the heated skin of your neck. All the while, his eyes followed. He took the edge of your collar between his fingers and moved it just far enough to expose your collarbone. Breathing became harder, and you knew he noticed.

“I think we know each other just fine,” he said, “in spirit.” He closed the remaining space between you, his chest pressed softly against yours. One hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his fingers tracing the edge of your hairline. “I know that you are so idealistic you’d hurt yourself trying to be perfect. And you know that I am very much imperfect.”

Your eyes met. Whatever fire had existed between you had never burned out, only smoldered. You shook your head gently. “Not to me.”

He smiled, visibly touched. “And that’s why you know me. You embraced the man behind the mask without even knowing I wore one.”

No longer able to hold back, you brought your hands to his chin, the roughness of his beard familiar now from the first time, just hours ago, when you had touched him. He exhaled and closed his eyes for a second. You rose to your toes, leaning toward him, your lips already impossibly close to his.

“What does that mean?” you whispered.

His forehead met yours. “Doesn’t matter. All I know is, you know me. And I want to be with you, in spirit… and in body. I want to make love to you in the truest way I can. Bare myself to you completely, if you’ll have me.”

Your breaths mingled as you smiled. “And here I thought I was the Writer.”

The crooked, adorable grin you’d come to know appeared even through your blurred vision. “Can I kiss you already?”

A flicker of trepidation returned to your burning nerves. “I am afraid,” you admitted, still grounding yourself in the gruff of his beard.  

“I know.” He ran his fingers through your hair, looking down at you with quiet reassurance. “We don’t have to tell anyone just yet. Not until we have a plan, or maybe even several. Making you uncomfortable is the last thing I want. We’ll take it slow. Would that be alright?”

No answer came from your lips, your lips were the answer. You leaned forward, just a bit too fast, to reunite with him. No matter how selfish, no matter how wrong, you couldn’t fight the pull of him. He pulled, and you pushed too deep, falling right back into him.

The way he kissed you now was passionate, but so much more reverent than the false version of Verso you had written. His lips were softer, his touch more intentional. Once more, your fingers moved through his midnight-black curls, smooth against your skin, opening your body to him, and he let himself in.

Verso wrapped his arms around you, pulling you gently against him, wanting to envelop you, to show you how deeply he cherished you. He didn’t want to possess you, didn’t want to take you, he wanted to love you, in body and in soul.

Without removing his lips from yours, he lifted you effortlessly from the floor, turned with you in his arms, and carried you toward your bed. Like a princess, he gently laid you down in the sheets, your head resting on the delightfully soft pillow, and Verso’s body moved atop yours.

He felt the slight, nearly imperceptible tremble that ran through you, and your racing pulse, as he placed his hand on your neck, brushing his thumb over your chin, only seeking grounding and the thrill of your skin, sending tiny electric jolts through his fingers. He could have stayed like that with you forever, feeling your closeness, sensing you, but then there was that little devil on his shoulder, urging him to slowly and indulgently open the buttons of your shirt.

You came up for air from the ever-growing passion of his lips, only for your breath to hitch as you saw his face above yours. He wore the happiest expression, tenderly loving, as you’d only ever seen it when he played the piano, with that touch of sadness in his beautiful eyes.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and your heart burst open.

He leaned down, pressed one last, soft kiss to your lips, then let his mouth travel down your chin. Your instinct was to stretch toward him, chasing his warm breath, feeling it at your neck, where he lingered, gently taking your delicate skin between his lips. You exhaled, searching for support in his arms framing you, hidden beneath his shirt, reaching into its expensive fabric.

Your shirt was opened by nimble fingers down to the base of your skirt, but he didn’t stop there, instead pulling the lower ends out of the waistband. The soft fabric slid down your sides. A cold breeze from the still-open window tickled your exposed skin, your upper body now only covered by your cache-corset, the pretty, short top you liked to wear under your shirts even without a corset.

He watched your chest rise and fall with your heavy breath, saw the perfection that was you. Your even skin was like a blank canvas, one on which he would gladly immortalize a piece of his soul. But you were so much more than that. Inside you was already an entire world, your essence a symphony so harmonious that he wanted to hear it forever, and be near it forever.

His soft fingers traced along your waist. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was playing you like his piano. The way he moved them, tickling your skin, sparked a shiver and goosebumps spread across your body. And when his mouth followed to tenderly explore those same spots, your lower abdomen tensed with anticipation. All the more so when he gently traced the hem of your undershirt.

“Is this alright?” he asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

“Yes, yes,” you breathed, arching your back into his hand.

Beneath your undershirt, he felt the smooth curve of your breast with pleasure, and a small sound escaped you as his fingertips brushed over its peak, the sound enough to send a warm tingling through his body, settling in his loins, more demanding than he wished for, prompting him to brush the last bit of fabric from your torso and over your head, then starting to peel off his vest and unbutton his own shirt.

You, now exposed, didn’t feel the slightest bit ashamed, his presence made you feel like you were slipping between the pages of your favorite story. But now, for the first time in a long time, you felt safe in the real world. So you helped him out of his clothes, and they joined yours on the floor.

Before you looked, you reached for him to feel him first. His body was lean, perfectly firm in all the right places, soft black hair spread across his evenly built chest. You ran your fingers through the fuzz, leaned into him, and pressed your lips to the crook of his neck. His own pulse was fast but steady as he pressed his head against yours, gently took your wrist, brought it to his mouth, and kissed your palm.

He wrapped his arms around you to flip you over in one swift motion. A giggle escaped you at the sudden move, just before you ended up straddling him. His back sank into the soft mattress under your weight, his hands immediately returning to your body, the sight of your splendor like a gift.

“You are so, so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice now a whole octave lower with desire for you. 

“You already said that,” you breathed out with amusement, bent down and laid yourself on top of him, your heated bodies rubbing against each other, fueling your own desire to feel everything of him. So you began fumbling with the fastening of his trousers while your lips pressed against each other, your balance in jeopardy.

He hummed. “And I would say it again,” he whispered a kiss on your lips, “and again,” on the tip of your nose, “and again, praying it like the most devoted believer out there.” He reached between you too, untied the ribbon at the back of your flared skirt and then, almost too skillfully, unfastened the clasp. “You are the most beautiful woman I ever got the honor to look upon.”

Your bottoms joined the rest of your clothes on the floor. And so you did what he proposed. You bared yourselves to each other, body and soul, and his sight was glorious. You sat up on him, his hands persistent, never retreating, on you. You drank each other in, your eyes roaming over your bodies.

Behind his loving, wholly devoted gaze now hid more than just longing, you saw the hunger in his eyes begin to show itself, the slightly firmer grip of his hands, his parted lips searching for more air.

He straightened up, shifting your weight so he could capture your mouth in a kiss so passionate it robbed you of your senses, your focus entirely on him and the heat between you, his arousal only a few inches away, aligned for you to just lower yourself onto him, to fill yourself with him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breathless, though he didn’t know what he would of done if you said no. “I wouldn’t want to –”

You placed your index finger on his mouth to silence him. “I want you, Verso,” you told him, feeling vulnerable as you admitted, “I want you so much that I’m afraid I won’t be able to live without you.”

With those words, you allowed him to find your entrance, and slowly, then with more pressure, you sank down onto him, savoring every inch you took in, your slick walls making it all too easy. You both let out a shaky breath as he bottomed out inside you, your breaths mingling so sensually that your muscles immediately clenched around him and instinctively, you grabbed onto his shoulder, your hips rolling forward, drawing a sigh from you.

“Oh mon dieu,” he gurgled against your neck, rocking you on his cock, coaxing the next sigh from your lips that nearly drove him insane, “wait, wait.” He stopped you with a hand on your hip.

You looked at him, confused, the pull in your core too strong, you needed the release, the friction, wanted to ride him and let him hit that spot inside you that would send you into bliss. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” you asked uncertainly.

His brief confusion vanished in a split second, replaced by that charming, slightly crooked grin and an amused sound. “Are you kidding me? You feel divine. No, I –” one of his hands snaked down your body, over your stomach, between you, while the other remained on your hip, “I want to give you more than that. So much more. Please, let me make you feel good. Let me revel in you.”

You couldn’t resist the request, and you wouldn’t have wanted to, especially not in the moment his confident, gentle fingers found their mark. You gasped, arched toward him, clung to him as he began to rub you with steady, deliberate circles that sent waves of sensation through you. With closed eyes, you focused solely on the feelings he stirred in you, he seemed to know exactly how much pressure and speed would bring you joy. Soon, you had to part your lips for breath, soft sounds escaping your throat.

Verso, intent on being a devoted lover, took his time. Your receptive response only deepened his desire. You were in tune with him, arching your back, your thighs trembling progressively harder, especially when he squeezed your hip gently but firmly to move you against him, just a subtle motion, but enough for him to hit that sensitive spot inside you and make you moan, prouding him immensely.

“Is this good?” he asked nonetheless, his voice a low, sensual whisper, ”Just tell me how I can please you, I’ll do anything.”

His teeth grazed the delicate skin of your neck playfully, and a groan escaped him as your walls tightened around his length, making his fingers twitch into your flesh. He felt you throbbing at his fingers, so he kept up the pace just as you seemed to be enjoying it.

“Don't stop”, you breathed, your hips stuttering against his touch, the heat pouring into your core the more he rubbed your clit. You moved instinctively on him, chasing your imminent high. You tensed, legs straining, unable to get enough of him, even knowing the moment wouldn’t last forever.

“You're amazing,” he praised adoringly. “Will you come for me, mon cœur?”

His gravelly voice washed over you like summer heat, making your skin tingle with comfort. You melted into his embrace, sank even deeper into his lap as he met you with his own rhythm, not enough restraint left in him in response to how lost in sensation you were.

Your body gave out as another powerful wave overtook you, licking down your spine. You felt that familiar pull deep inside that signaled your release. You exhaled, your head falling onto his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair as you finally let go. “I’m coming.”

It was the most peaceful and sensual climax you’d ever experienced. Verso's steady fingers slowed, becoming a gentle presence, replaced by a soft yet insistent pressure on your hip, encouraging you to move with the wave instead of being overwhelmed by it. It wasn't ecstatic, it was better. Lasting, satisfying, and deeply fulfilling, your spasms didn't go into nowhere, but wrapped around him, feeling him more intensely than you'd ever felt anyone before.

Verso guided you through your continuous twitches, drawing out your orgasm as much as you were able to give, rocking you on him, holding you close as soft sounds of pleasure escaped you – sounds that alone could keep him satisfied for nights to come. If only he could make you feel like this always, swept up in emotion, in what you felt for him and what he did to you. Only when your body slumped against his, entirely spent, did he finally pause to let you rest. A steady, satisfying throb still lingered under his fingers.

You gasped against his heated skin, barely able to speak. Luckily, Verso found the words for you: “There’s nothing like a petite mort, non?” A kiss touched your cheek as he gently rolled with you, never breaking your connection.

You blinked, looking up at him in the dim glow of your lamp. His eyes were ablaze, a wildfire of emotion, contentment, desire, and love. All the feelings that made up a great, tragic love story.

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” you gasped truthfully, your fingers exploring his sides, making him shiver ever so slightly.

He smiled. “I aim to please.” His face lowered to press his lips to yours, and a surprised, overstimulated sound escaped you as he rolled his hips into you, seeming to tease your essence out of you, feeling the air around you, heavy yet comforting, like a weighted blanket pulled over you.

His movements were instinctive; he couldn’t resist you, this soft, welcoming abyss that was you, more tempting than anything else in his life. Everything else, even his problems, faded away. With you, anything felt possible. And that was what fueled his longing to be connected to you, to sink into you again and again.

“Verso –” you gasped, and to him, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. You saying his name like that.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice barely more than a breath.

“Yes,” you whispered in return.

His strokes within you were were as deliberate as his earlier touch. Intense, precise, each thrust aimed to finding the spot that made your breath hitch. There was so much sensuality in the way he moved that you would have happily drowned in it. Skin rubbed over skin, so hart did he press himself against you, only to hover over you after, gaining better leverage, and sink himself back into you so purposefully that you saw stars. 

The noices you made, those breathy, sinful notes, and the sound of skin against skin only drove him further, made him lose what little restraint he had left. He didn’t notice how his pace quickened, he only saw you: the expression on your face, the parting of your lips, your closed eyes… “Look at me,” he said, the gentle command surprising you so much that you obeyed without hesitation.

It felt as if he was looking right into your soul. And you couldn’t look away, you didn’t want to. The world around you blurred. You pressed yourself as close to him as possible, your legs firmly anchored to his sides. You reached for his cheek, only for him to take it, place it next to your head and intertwine your fingers, his gaze never leaving yours always looking down at you, always showing you how much he adored you. 

He had planned to take his time with you, to spend the whole night spoiling you, perhaps even coax another petite mort or two from you. But he hadn’t counted on the overwhelming pull your body had on him. He had given in to it, to his shame. And now, he was ploughing into you, completely out of control of his own body, chasing a high that should really be another one for you. He vowed he would make it up to you as the night went on. For now, he focused on your every reaction, trying draw out as much pleasure as he possibly could, ere he would surrender to the temptations of your clenching walls around his cock.

You could feel it, his passionate movements becoming less controlled, more erratic. His rhythm faltered as tension overtook him, his brows furrowed in desperate effort.

“It’s alright,” you whispered, your body moving with his.

His fingers tightened around yours. A strangled sound escaped his throat, a great declaration of love on his tongue that he could barely hold back from escaping, and a delicate shiver washed over his body. “Merde,” he groaned. He let go of your hand, pulling out of you in one fluid motion, leaving your center with a strange emptiness, as if he had simply painted over you, given you a new normal.

Shifting his weight above you, he leaned on one forearm, stroking himself, his eyes fluttering shut, his breath ragged against your skin as his release landed on your stomach. You appreciated his still quick thinking, while your mind was a complete blank, you didn’t even thought about the end of it all.

Verso’s heart was still hammering in his chest, long after the moment had passed. Just the sight of you was enough to keep his pulse running wild. He leaned down to capture your lips, careful not to touch you with the hand he hadn’t yet cleaned.

“Sorry for the mess,” he said with a sheepish grin, glancing down at your glistening skin.

You let out a soft laugh. “That’s fine. Thank you.”

He settled beside you on the mattress, holding his hand in the air as if it were poisonous, while you reached into your nightstand drawer and pulled out two of your linen handkerchiefs. Shortly after, he pulled your blanket over both of you, beckoned you closer to him, and you snuggled into his warm embrace.

“You’re hot,” you murmured, drawing little circles in the hair on his chest, the heat still radiating from him, his skin damp with the faintest sheen of sweat.

“And you’re soft,” he replied quietly, content, placing a kiss on your hair.

There was a rustling at the foot of the bed, then a small meow. Soleil jumped onto the mattress and strutted over the blanket with big, wobbly steps, toward Verso, where she pressed her tiny head against his chin. He grinned as he stroked her little body, and once again, Soleil purred in his presence as if she were in love. 

“Here she comes, making sure I know how to share,” you sighed in amusement, scratching her head. She blinked at you, as if to tell you she still liked you too, even with the attractive man in her bed.

“Don’t tell her, but for me, you still come first,” he murmured into your ear.

“Careful, she can hear you.” You hummed, smiling blissfully. Slowly, though steadily, your dilemma crept back into your awareness. There was no turning back from what you had both committed to now. You still had a chance to keep it secret, but you didn’t want to end it anymore, you couldn’t.

“Verso?”

“Yes?”

“What you said earlier, about knowing how I feel, that I had the desire to experience something I didn’t think I ever could. Why did you say that so quickly? Does it have something to do with you being a Painter?” You continued the thought: “What can you do?”

His fingers gently caressed your upper arm while he seemed to think for a moment. “You mean they didn’t tell you about our powers?”

“They did,” you answered, “but probably just as twisted as whatever they told you. What I know about you is that you create worlds, with real, free thinking beings, and that’s the reason why everything between us is so complicated.”

“Mhm,” he acknowledged, “and what I know about you is that you can influence reality with what you write. They tell us that your kind can impose your will on others, even write over our canvases, if you wanted to. That’s why you threaten our way of life.”

You scoffed. “I’ve never heard of a Writer who did that.”

Verso continued petting Soleil, but his hand paused for a moment. “Is it possible?”

You thought briefly before replying. “I don’t know. Among us, there are people with very different levels of strength. Usually, we just write, and our works aren’t even always meant to be manifested. The more advanced among us can take on and execute conditions, but only on ourselves.” You straightened up and leaned over him. He listened intently. “We simply write something, and then,” you touched the ink-black stubble of his beard with your fingertips, “we take the words into ourselves. They disappear from the page. Whatever we wrote, we inherit for a short time. We don’t create anything, we merely take it on.” You ran your fingers over his chin, then smiled. “I do it with music.”

Soleil let out an indignant meow, she was no longer the center of attention. Verso blinked, surprised. “So you’re writing sheet music and then – absorb it?”

“And then I play it, one time,” you concluded.

“That’s a shame, you write beautiful music.” He played with a lock of your hair. “So you’re an advanced Writer?”

You shrugged. “I have my talents.”

“That you do.” 

You both grinned.

“And then, well, there are the truly powerful among us,” you continued without reservation. He should know what your kind could do, he obviously had a warped idea of your powers. “Maybe they can write over your canvases, but that’s only possible, if at all, with blood.”

“Blood?” he asked, surprised.

You nodded. “Blood is the strongest ink in the world. Especially when it’s your own that you write with. Whoever among us writes a book in blood and manifests it probably won’t come back out of it. If they even make it that far before they bleed out. The less powerful we are, the more blood we have to use.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“Noooo,” you insisted quickly and at length, “I am not nearly powerful enough, it is so dangerous. Only the most powerful among us write in blood. But they actually can, if you interpret it that way, change reality.” You traced invisible letters on Verso’s chest. “They can, for example, heal wounds. Whether they can really influence your works, I don’t know. I’m not really that educated about blood sacrifices.”

Verso made a thoughtful sound. “I guess on both sides, they tell us stories to turn us against each other.”

“So is it also not true what they tell about you? That you can create worlds like gods?” you asked, curious to learn more about his powers now that you had explained yours.

He pulled a face. “It’s not wrong. But we refrain from using words like that to describe it. We basically do the same as you, describe worlds in the form of art and bring them to life. We can enter our canvases and live inside them for a certain amount of time.”

“And can you really trap people in there, if you wanted?” You suspected that was the piece of information that was spread to scare your kind.

Verso’s eyebrow lifted questioningly, confirming your guess. “We definitely can’t do that.” His gaze softened. “If I could take someone into my painting, I'd love to show you this world.” 

“So you created one of those worlds?” The thought that he had done so made you uneasy. Your whole life you had been taught that Painters broke the laws of nature by creating what shouldn’t exist.

“I only ever painted one canvas,” he replied, raising a finger, “where I left a piece of my soul to give it life. I was a child back then, and it was a family project, really. Clea helped paint it, our parents sometimes came in with us. Only Alicia preferred to spend time in her room.”

“A piece of your soul? What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I think you think it means. We leave a piece of our soul in the paintings we want to enter.” Verso’s eyes drifted upward to the ceiling. “Powerful Painters like my parents can create many such paintings. Others… not so much.”

“I see.” You let yourself sink down onto his reassuring chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. Parts of what you knew about each other were true, parts were false, the kind of miscommunication that led to class wars like this, likely born from jealousy, envy, and materialism. In the end, it was art that connected your clans, really.

“I would like to see your painting some day… but I would rather listen to you play the piano all the time.”

His chuckle vibrated through his chest. “And that is why I…” he paused.

You pressed yourself closer to him, wrapped your arms around him. “It’s alright,” you whispered, “I love you, too.”

[hiddenlongingsfanfic]

Just His Luck (Lucky Boys 1)

The viscous liquid drip…drip..dripped off of the tip of a clawed finger.

Landing on the bricks below, it sounded incongruously like rainfall.

The acid green substance defied gravity with its tendrils creeping out and then into the porous surfaces of a badly maintained sewer system. His hands were covered in tight fitting gloves, still glowing white even amongst the filth. They lay lax, palms up, and fingers loosely curled to create a small divot in the center.

It took a long time, and it hurt this waiting.

Slowly, though, his patience began to bear fruit.

In his slightly cupped hand pooled the unnaturally rippling ectoplasm.

Danny laboriously, in fits and starts, managed to bring his hand to his chest and tipped the meager liquid directly into his organs. He whined softly with relief as he felt this new world’s ectoplasm nourish him. He didn’t know what would happen if he had a direct source to guzzle from, though. He couldn’t even really describe the difference that he felt. he just knew that it was present and almost alien.

Although Danny smiled slightly, he supposed at this point, he was the alien life-form.

He grimaced then at the feeling of the restrictive plastic that was still strapped to his face before he was forced back to stoicism when it cut painfully into his skin. It wouldn’t be pretty if he had to try and projectile vomit through the thin metal bars that pierced his skin. He finally heaved a deep breath and gingerly wrapped his arms around his torso, doing his best to avoid any sutures, before he pillowed his head on the sinuous length of his tail. Curled into as tight of a ball as his battered body would concede, Danny finally allowed himself to start crying. Tears streamed down his face, and if he had had the ability, he would have screamed.

Wailed.  

At the loss of everything.

His jaw wouldn’t move, held in place by some sort of wire that wound its way through his gums and bones held in place by the plastic of the muzzle. Whatever Fenton invention they had used on it made it nearly impossible to remove. It refused to phase through walls with him and was strong enough that he couldn’t manage to snap the wire into pieces. 

They had learned their lesson early on with him.

They hadn’t wanted to hear what he had to say anyway. Had only cared about what they could discover next. What they could find as they tore through him with methodical, scientific patience. He was a ghost. Long dead. Why would they waste the supplies on feeding him? They had tried something different.

Something…bad.

This shallow pool was a slow method of collection, but it also gave him time to recover his strength, and it didn’t hurt anyone else. He wasn’t being forced to harm anyone just to survive. He couldn’t remember when the portal had started to fall to pieces around him. Cobbled together as it had been, a mixture of human and animal blood used by his friends in a desperate attempt to free him from the laboratory that he had been imprisoned in.

Danny had appeared amongst the clouds and didn’t have the strength to stay afloat.  Danny’s ghost half was supernaturally hardy, but even he needed time to recuperate after plummeting from that high in the air. He had tried to control his fall, but he had just been so tired. Normally, floating felt more natural to him when he was like this than walking. But his injuries even before he had escaped had left him weak. At least he had managed to avoid skewering himself on the steeple of a church. Had felt something close to horror at the thought of being killed (again? fully?) by the sharp points of a metal cross.

A sudden noise distracted him from his agonized sobs.

Danny growled low in his chest as he heard something splashing through the sewer water. Gross. That water couldn’t be sanitary. Seemed questionable to him. He wanted to disappear away from whatever was making that much of a ruckus. Sure, he could technically still turn himself invisible, but that wouldn’t hide the trail of ectoplasm that he had left in his wake. Better to make himself as scary as possible. At this point he’d probably have trouble fighting off the ghost of a fly, let alone whatever monster was roaming through near pitch black tunnels with apparent ease. He couldn’t bare his teeth anymore, but he let the sonic rumbling coming from his chest turn up a gear. There was another splash, and this time, it was followed by a curse. Someone had just fallen face first into that foul water.

Okay.

That helped the fear a little bit. 

Danny let the growl ebb away with a quizzical chirp. He’d have to be even worse off than he currently was to not recognize that “ Mother Fucker!!” that echoed off the brick walls for a moment.  The tinny sound of some sort of earpiece let him hear the faint sound of the feminine laughter of whoever was on the other line.

“Shut it, O. It’s your fault I’m down here anyways.”

The voice was raspy, but it also didn’t sound completely natural. Some sort of mechanical modulation that gave him the heebie-jeebies. 

“ I told you. Cameras caught something falling out of the sky. I found the furrow that it left.”

In the goddamn cemetery.”

“ Yes, but you saw the same thing I did.”

“Yeah, something dragged itself away from the impact site.” “

Satellites saw whatever fell. They literally survived a fall from low atmosphere space and then had the strength to pull themselves into the sewers.”

The damned muzzle meant that there was no way for Danny to run away from whoever was looking for him. Every other piece of clothing went intangible with no issue; but the Fucking Fenton Wire™ made it literally impossible for him to get his face through anything. Forcing himself through would probably end with him missing a bunch of teeth and a good portion of skin from his face. It might be worth it; Danny had taken enough blows to the head that he knew his teeth grew back eventually. Maybe he’d get lucky and the man would give up after his impromptu dip in sewage.

Has he ever been lucky in his entire life?

The abrupt blast of light as the man held up a small penlight felt like it pierced him solidly through both of his eye sockets.

“Hmmm, I’m seeing some sort of liquid.”

“ Blood?”

“I mean the splatter marks. They match up to what I’d expect to see if someone managed to drag themselves through Gotham city water.” 

“ But?” “

"But this shit is looking a hell of a lot more like  Lazarus Water?”

There was a long buzzy pause that came out of whatever kind of earwigs these two weirdo’s were wearing. Danny forced himself to lay even flatter to the ground. He took in a deep breath and fully stuck himself into the corner. Maybe his ratty old hazmat suit would let him pass as a pile of dirty laundry or a trash bag. It wouldn’t work, but Danny hadn’t had too many great ideas about how to talk to a man without showing off his wired. shut. teeth. He also seemed familiar with ectoplasm. Though it didn’t seem to be a happy association.  His modulated voice had dipped into an even lower register. 

When a hand forcefully landed on Danny’s shoulders, the tips of his gloved fingers caught against the concrete of the floor and threw out sparks as he was dragged backwards by ungentle hands.

“ Wait! Hood, be care…!! ”

Danny had had more than enough of being manhandled in his lifetime (afterlife?) and he didn’t even let the woman on the other side of the microphone finish her warning before he whipped his body around and smacked his clawed fingers across the face of his unknown attacker.  It wasn’t exactly like a hot knife through butter, but Danny could feel the way the tips first caught in the metal of the full face helmet that the man was wearing and a push of ice into those cracks shattered the rest of the man's headgear. In a normal situation (for Danny) this would be the point where the person, ghost, being of unimaginable power, etc, etc would either turn tail and run in the other direction or at least shrink away from whatever had just ripped apart what looked like it had been a very expensive piece of body armor. This time, though, he didn’t even have time to react before being punched straight in the nose.

His head snapped back hard for a moment before he twisted sinuously around and launched himself at whoever had hit him. Only for the much taller man to nimbly spring away from where he had been and leaving Danny crouched in the grotty water that was already up well past his shins. At least his feet had decided to reappear. Small favors and all that.  Danny swung out in a wide arc with his claws bared rather than in a fist and let out a little growl of frustration as he hit nothing but air. The other man was quicker on his feet than Danny was used to and he didn’t want to put his full force behind the blow anyways. 

He’d gotten into plenty of fights with ghosts, in their form of rough and tumble play, and a little less regularly by humans that meant business.

This felt like a combination of the two and that was fucking weird man.

Not to be trusted.

It's time to try and actually fight his way out of this situation since this asshole wouldn’t just leave him alone to sulk in the sewers.

Danny instinctively tried to open his mouth wide both to show off his sharpened fangs as well as to hopefully wail into his attacker's face. Of course, the wire cut that off hard, and he had to pull back with a sharp, frustrated whine as he pawed at his face for a moment. Scrabbling to get that stupid mask off so that he could defend himself.  His claws caught on the edge of the plastic, but it didn’t budge. He only managed to snag a finger through a small loop of the metal before it shocked him hard enough to drop him completely in the water, the muzzle sparking and pulsing in punishment and making it impossible for him to keep on his feet. He could feel the way the water around him electrified and was relieved when the other man had the good sense to jump out of it.

This time when a hand came down to grab him the stranger had at least gone for a limb a little further away from whatever fuckery was happening on his face and he felt now much gentler hands wrap around his ankles.  They gently dragged him up and out of the water, plopping him relatively softly on the cement again before relinquishing his hold and backing up with his hands in the air. Danny flopped onto his belly and pushed himself away as quickly as he could. He ended up on all fours with his forearms flat on the ground so that he could hold his head up away from the ground but not have to try and hold onto his teetering balance.

Electricity flashed through his face and left him seeing stars and smelling burnt flesh.

He was gasping for air.

Air he knew that he didn’t really need anymore, but it still felt so necessary.

Deep inhales and slow exhales to try and calm himself down and to get the equipment on his face to stop fucking zapping him. It took several long seconds before he was able to get the courage together to look over and see what the stranger was doing while he was having an electricity induced panic attack. He hadn’t heard the other man leave but that didn’t mean much when this sort of stuff happened. He couldn’t hear much of anything with the way it felt like electricity jolted through his brain. It brought back not only recent memories of this being used as a punishment but older, harder memories from his deathday.  But no, the stranger hadn’t had the decency to leave. Instead he had just taken a seat across the stream of water from him and was watching him carefully from behind another smaller mask that still hid a good majority of his facial features.

Who wears two masks?

Seriously.

He could see the black hair with a shocking patch of white, turned a little brown gray from the muck of the sewer water. 

The sight made his core hum inquisitively.

That was a very distinctive sort of mark to have. Danny cocked his head a little further and, this time, let himself reach out with tendrils of inquiry from his core to see how the other man reacted.

At first, he didn’t.

React that is.

Didn’t seem to have any sort of idea about what was happening, and then Danny felt the first flutters of a very, very new core as it responded with a stressed chatter of noise. It said don’t hurt me…I’m just a baby…Just a baby . Be calm. Safe. safe. Danny’s eyes blazed green as he reacted to the placating emotions the man was obviously sending his way unintentionally. Even after everything he had gone through, Danny didn’t want to be a bully. Sure his face, hell his entire body, fucking hurt, but he had all but face planted into the other ghosts territory. He hadn’t known where the portal had been going to take him. All he had been able to gather from the abrupt conversation that he had had with Jazz was that it was somewhere the GIW would never find him.

A dimension far far away, where he would be safe.

Alone.

But safe.

He had grabbed onto that with both hands and hadn’t let himself think about what he might be losing. So he had managed to get away from an evil government agency, lose his remaining friends and family permanently, only to land smack dab in the middle of some powerful baby ghosts haunt.

Just his fucking luck . 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jason wasn’t often at a complete loss for words.

He had words to spare.

Profanity laced, but still, available for use at all times. 

When the call had come through from Oracle, he had felt cold dread start to creep down his spine. Some thing had landed in Crime Alley and walked away from the impact. It was late enough that he had been considering turning in for the evening. When he had heard the subtle ping of his earpiece. Jason had almost considered declining the call. Whatever it was that Oracle needed at this time of night wasn’t going to be good. Even the criminals went to bed eventually.

He clenched hard on his motorcycle's handles before he accepted the call with a gruff. “What is it?”

“ We’ve got something or someone that just landed hard in the Gotham cemetery.” “

Why aren’t you sure if it’s a person or an object?”

“ They fell from literal space. Some sort of portal ripped open the sky and dropped something through it. I’d say the only person that would be able to survive that kind of a fall would be Superman.”

“But it’s not him because?”

“ Because Superman is currently working a case with B, and he was the first person I called. Present and accounted for.” “

And you don’t think it’s a random object falling from a portal because?”

“ First. When has it ever just been a random object?”

“Hn.” Jason grunted in agreement.

“ Secondly, it’s not there anymore. Camera’s went a little fuzzy, but somebody pulled themselves out of the impact site and slid through a sewer grate.”

“Hn.” This was not a grunt of agreement. This was a grunt of displeasure. Oracle had worked with enough bats and birds throughout her lifetime to be able to tell the difference immediately. “

Yes. I literally mean through. It looked like liquid, but it moved under its own power.” “

Hn.”

“ Don’t whine. It’s not befitting a crime lord.”

Jason didn’t even bother to respond as he pulled in through the cracked open gates of the cemetery. Better to park his bike here rather than on the street. B would actually never let him hear the end of it if someone tried to steal his tires.

It didn’t take him long to find the impact site.  There were spatters of sinister glowing green liquid, and the sight of it made Jason’s gorge rise. There was no way that was what it looked like. As he circled around the deep divot in the earth, Jason could make out what looked like handprints in the earth.

Whoever had landed here had hit the ground with enough force to dig several inches into the loamy soil before it looked like they had crawled out with clawed fingers digging deep divots into the dirt as it dragged itself towards the slim opening that led into the Gotham sewer system.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m fitting through that opening.” Jason drawled. “We’ll have to call in one of the Robins. What a shame.”

“ Nice try. There’s a manhole less than 50 feet from where you’re standing.”

Jason let his face drop forward with a dramatic sigh before he strode over to the manhole. With a grunt of effort, he pulled the thick metal up and to the side before he peered down into the darkness. Thankfully, his mask helped him see through the pitch black, and he was able to locate a ladder without trouble.

He curled his lip a little with disgust before dropping down into the muck. The ladder was made out of a sturdy metal, but he could still feel flakes of rust coming off underneath his leather gloves, and his boots slipped a little on some sort of slimy algae. Jason could hear Oracle breathing quietly in his ear, but they had both gone quiet as he had gotten closer to whatever fresh horror had arrived in Gotham city this time. The water was as disgusting as he had feared when he finally hit the floor, but it was still less slippery than trying to walk on the slick sides that slanted inwards to direct the water. Hood’s mask would have had trouble distinguishing the dark stain of normal blood from the filth that coated the surfaces around him but the bright neon of whatever this creature was dripping stood out in stark contrast to everything around it.

It looked toxic.

Malevolent.

His impression of danger only deepened when he felt his chest rumble like he was standing next to a speaker thrumming with bass.  He was so focused on following the small trailing drops that when Jason tripped over some sort of submerged trash he didn’t have the wherewithal to catch himself.

“Mother FUCKER!”.

Thankfully his mask was sealed tightly enough that none of the disgusting water actually got into his mouth or eyes but he knew that as soon as the mask was taken off he was going to be able to smell himself. Hell, regular civilians would be able to smell him coming before they heard his motorcycle. The thrumming noise came to an abrupt halt when he hit the water, and then Oracle's laughter rang out across the line. Jason had to grit his teeth hard to hold back an annoyed snarl.

“Shut it, O. It’s your fault I’m down here anyway.”

“ I told you. Cameras caught something falling out of the sky. I found the furrow that it left.”

“ In the goddamn cemetery.”

“ Yes, but you saw the same thing I did.”

“Yeah, something dragged itself away from the impact site.”

“Satellites saw whatever fell. They literally survived a fall from low atmosphere space and then had the strength to pull themselves into the sewers.” 

“Hn, I’m seeing some sort of liquid.”

“ Blood?”

“I mean the splatter marks I'm seeing. They'd match up to what I’d expect to see if someone managed to drag themselves through Gotham city water.” 

“ But?”

" But this shit is looking a hell of a lot more like Lazarus Water?” 

Jason had been feeling more and more sketched out as he stepped past what felt more and more like he had stepped into an evil Jackson Pollock painting. He could see handprints in the smears of green that looked almost human. But there was something wrong with the edges. Like whatever had made them didn’t have just normal fingertips. Little indentations in the brick marked the spaces where claws had dug in a little too forcefully to be human.

When Hood finally turned a corner in the sewers and found the source of the Lazarus water he barely even paused when he saw the dirty frayed edges of some sort of black rubbery suit and just reached out to drag whatever the hell had been stupid enough to show up right on his fucking doorstep out of the darkness.

“ Wait! Hood, be care…!! ”

The clawed hand that whipped out of the darkness shone off-white even in the darkness of the sewers, but Hood didn’t have time to dodge before they caught hard in the alloy that covered his left cheek.  He felt the fine cracks as they started to form before he was hit with a sudden icy cold that burned ferociously for a moment before he felt his helmet completely shatter. Jason could only see a vague shadow of whatever had just hit him, but it was more than enough, and he aimed a hard punch directly where somebody's nose should be.

If it had a nose.

He felt cartilage snap under his knuckles and smirked when his opponent's head snapped backwards. And continued backwards further than any human spine should be able to bend. It twisted sinuously around and sent another swiping blow in his direction. This time Jason had enough time to dodge the uncanny blow, and he leapt backwards to give himself some space. He heard a low growl of frustration from the man across from him, and Hood’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the other man's face for the first time. The clear plastic of the bite mask was deeply embedded in the skin around the stranger's face. 

No.

Jason’s breath caught.

Not embedded.

Sewn.

The edges were sewn into his skin with what looked like a thin wire. Where the metal bars that would usually be in front of his lips had instead been wound through them. Sealing them completely shut. The young man’s eyes glowed the same neon green as the Lazarus water. Eerily similar to his own eyes when the Pit rage took over; but brighter, almost incandescent.  His hair swirled in violent waves around his head as though taken by an unseen riptide, glowing white in the gloom. His skin was almost as pale as his hair; though the filth of the sewers had spread a disgusting film across his face. Jason could see the tear tracks that had sloughed off the dirt in ghostly pale streaks. 

The rumbling growl that Jason had heard was coming from deep within the man’s slender chest.  He could see the way the man’s jaw clenched hard as he strained to open his mouth against the tortuous contraption that was entrenched in his face.

He hoped, God did Jason hope, that the mask was a new fixture because whatever he had been trying to do, the young man jerked his head sideways and pawed ineffectually at the edges of the plastic. Clawed fingertips caught and held but weren’t able to pull the fucking muzzle off of his face. With a newly frustrated growl, the man changed tactics and looped a finger through the metal x’d through his lips and pulled. Jason couldn’t see where the electric shocks that started to spark across the mask came from. There didn’t seem to be any sort of electronics attached to the mask itself but wherever they had come from the shocks were enough to drop the man where he stood.

He was nearly covered by the sewage that he had fallen into, and Jason had years of training to thank for the fact that he managed to get out of the water before it became dangerously electrified. He scrambled up into the tunnel that the other person had emerged from while he tried to figure out how he was going to help this poor fucker without getting electrocuted for his troubles. After several long seconds Jason finally managed to reach out and snag the, hopefully rubber, tattered ends of the guys pants and dragged him up and out of the water with a grunting heave.

Jason curled himself away from the sparks that were still coming off of the guy.

Jesus.

Were the electronics in the man’s mouth?

It took several heaving breaths, nostrils flaring and chest racked with silent coughs, before the guy managed to get up on his knees and elbows. He rested his forehead on his fisted hands for several long seconds as they both tried to decide how best to handle the situation going forward. Green eyes slid over to him, and Jason felt a completely foreign crash of emotion sweep through him in a wave. The top notes of whatever this being was sending his way were aggressive!mean!GETAWAY! But underneath that was a wave of agonized terror that left him nearly breathless.

Jason held back a snarl of fear when he felt something shift in his chest and respond without his conscious permission. Something that felt a little bit like the Pit but a lot like when he was trying to sooth his siblings after a hard night. Safe…safe here. Jason slowly slid further down the wall and took a deep deep breath to try and calm himself down.

They both lay, covered in filth, as they tried to recover from the sudden cessation of violence and stared into each others eyes. “

So…uh Hood? You okay?”

Jesus, now he’d have to talk to Oracle about everything that had just happened in the space of several silent minutes.

No.

Worse.

He’d have to explain what happened to Da…Batman.

Jason let his head fall back against the dirty brick and groaned aloud.

Just his fucking luck .

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY ALISTAIR THEIRIN - PARTY BANTER *  updated version - assorted banter from dragon age: origins

they say you can get anything here. i once got pick-pocketed.

i don't know if i should take you seriously... but you scare me sometimes.

i locked myself in a cage once when i was a child. for an entire day. ahh... good times.

why do they call it a brothel? there's no broth. or is there?

couldn't you crawl into a bush somewhere and die? that would be great, thanks.

leave me alone.

i know where babies come from!

what would you do if someone told you that they loved you?

food shouldn't be frilly and pretentious like that.

we take our ingredients, throw them into the largest pot we can find, and cook them for as long as possible until everything is a uniform grey color. as soon as it looks completely bland and unappetizing, that's when i know it's done.

we're not going to be mobbed, right? that's not something they do here? mob people?

do you get the feeling things are just getting worse as we go up?

now that's just unnecessary.

i don't think we're alone. i really don't think we're alone.

is it just me, or did i do really badly back there?

excuse me while i begin projectile vomiting.

maybe she was ugly. maybe she had buck teeth. how would we know?

what is that smell? fish? and something else. oh... more fish.

uh-oh. i'm terrible at puzzles.

let's try not to get lost here. places like this can get you turned around.

i think there's something ahead. something big.

i don't even want to imagine where that leads.

you could be an utter moron, for all we know.

it used to get so quiet that i would start screaming until someone came running. i would tell them that i was just checking. you never know, right?

there's a certain allure to danger, isn't there?

i will never get over how quietly you are able to move.

i heard you often seduce your targets.

don't you wish you could have stayed there? to help more people, i mean?

i've never been very good at that. the steeling myself part. i find it better sometimes to just be a little weak. i'm all right with that, really.

i just wanted some advice.

what should i do if... if i think a woman is special...

i am not lost.

do i have a choice?

you find that curious, do you?

that's directed at me, i take it?

have you really been thinking about that all this time?

so let's talk about your mother for a moment.

why do you always go on about how stupid i am? i'm not stupid, am i?

it hurts my manly feelings, you know. all one of them.

you're not even listening to me.

you're joking, right? a five year old could answer that question.

so what's the deal with you and him, anyway? dare i ask?

that... is a ridiculous question.

i figure you'd be the sort who knows all about deception.

it's moments like this when i truly appreciate the difference between you and me.

you're... you're drunk, aren't you?

how do you manage to be constantly drunk? are we even carrying that much alcohol with us?

i guess a romance between you and i is completely out of the question.

you know a lot of big words.

you wouldn't understand.

don't you ever talk? you know, make polite conversation just to put people at ease?

i spy with my little eye... something that begins with... "G"

are you talking to me?

are we under attack?

i don't have to prove anything to you.

we're not exactly traveling in the lap of luxury here.

can you mend it? when we get back to camp?

i might catch a cold.

that's... one way of looking at it.

i have a hard time believing that.

it's not an outlandish question.

you know, of all the mages i've met you have to be the first one i can honestly say i've really liked.

why are you smiling like that?

i wasn't looking at... you know her... hind-quarters... i gazed. glanced... in that direction, maybe, but i wasn't staring... or really seeing anything even.

i hate you. you're a bad person.

i'm not an idiot. well, not most of the time.

you didn't answer my question.

if you aren't telling me, there must be a reason.

do you mind if i ask you a personal question?

have you... had many women in your time?

how do you... woo them? is there a technique?

i like my hair the way it is, thank you.

we aren't talking about this, are we? did i hit my head?

is that a smirk? are you smirking at me?

well aren't you just chock full of useless trivia today.

i suppose you don't care.

so when this is over, what do you intend to do with yourself?

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Evenfall

Imagine you wake up in Twilight as a random side character. (Part 3)

Nullification!reader Human reader! SideCharacter Bella! Isekai au! Edward Cullen X reader. Eventually Jacob Black x reader. (2 endings.) (All characters will be written less creepy and one dimensional than the ones in the books.)

Previous - Next

That night, Y/N remembered to close her windows.

Just finishing her night routine, she headed over to her bedside window and began to pull it down shut. As soon as she reached the curtains of the open window, a small rock sailed past her head.

Y/N’s eyes followed the projectile, her face in almost as much shock as it was earlier this afternoon.

‘What in the flying f-’ Y/N snapped her head to look outside of her window and lo' and behold it was a certain pale boy who looked guilty. ‘What the hell was that?!’ Y/N whisper yelled, not wanting to alert Charlie who was only a couple rooms away. 

‘Sorry… I uh, can I come up?’ Edward mouthed, the security lights lit his face just enough for Y/N to read. The moon, illuminating his striking features.

‘Okay?’ Y/N hesitantly nodded, knowing that he could very well choose to just come back when she was asleep. She stepped back from the window and waited on her bed. A small, easy to miss thwump sounded outside her window as two familiar hands appeared, gripping her windowsill.

As Edward pulled himself up easily, Y/N made herself busy, tucking herself into bed, covering her legs with her blanket.

‘Can you close the window? I turned on the heater, it’s kinda cold. Make sure to close it when you leave too.’ Y/N pulled out her copy of the book they would be studying this year and waited for Edward to speak.

‘I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’ The boy stood, somewhat uncomfortably. ‘Y’know with your head and all.’ He gestured to Y/N with his hand, looking extremely nervous. His face was taut, full lips pulled back in a thin line.

‘I’m fine Edward, but thanks for checking up on me. I appreciate it. And thank you again for saving me.’ Y/N nodded, giving him a relaxed smile ‘Um, feel free to sit?’ She gestured to the end of her bed.

‘Right,’ He relaxed a bit, settling himself down on the edge of her bed. ‘I was thinking. How about we decide on a day for you to come see Rosalie and the rest of the family?’ He gave her a wavering grin. Knowing Edward, he was probably thinking something morbid about eternal damnation and what not. He was quite the moody character.

‘I mean sure, but couldn’t we talk about this at school tomorrow?’ Y/N raised her eyebrows, slightly confused as to why he needed to talk to her tonight.

‘Um, tomorrow is Saturday.’ Edward began slowly, now looking at her with concern again. ‘Are you sure your head is okay?’ He leaned forward, reaching out his hand to place on her forehead. 

‘Man that's cold.’ Y/N wrinkled her nose at the contact. ‘How have people not figured you guys out yet? You guys are pale as heck, super conventionally attractive and feel freezing to the touch.’ Y/N let out a chuckle, batting Edwards hand away from her forehead. She set down her book, abandoning her idea of reading before bed.

‘Well, we make it a habit to stay away from other people.’

‘I see. Okay well, when do you think is a good day to meet your family?’ Y/N grabbed a pillow, squishing it against herself.

‘I’ll be away tomorrow hu- I mean, eating.’ Edward grimaced.

‘Hunting? Bears and stuff right?’ Y/N nodded along, resting her chin atop her pillow. ‘Y’know you should practice talking to humans more often. It’s no wonder you’re slipping up.’ She smirked. ‘ “I’ll be away the whole day eating.” Is not a sentence one commonly uses in human conversation.’ She snickered, throwing her pillow at Edward to which he caught easily.

‘Right, sorry.’ He gave her a sheepish grin, settling the pillow down on his lap. 

‘So, a vampire huh?’ Y/N looked at him with a blank stare. ‘What do I smell like?’ 

Edward’s eyebrow twitched slightly at her question, ‘Vampire? You came to a conclusion quickly. It’s only been a day.’ Narrowly avoiding her question.

‘Well I know for a fact you aren’t spiderman. He’s at least nice.’ Y/N shrugged. ‘And don't you avoid my questions. It doesn’t work on me.’ She kicked him slightly, under her blanket. Edward let out a surprised chuckle, not flinching at her sudden attack.

‘Okay well, you’re right. We would be considered vampires. I was thinking Sunday? You can come over if you’d like and we can explain all the details there?’ He gave her a hopeful smile, handing Y/N’s pillow back to her.

‘Yeah sure! What time were you thinking? Charlie will be away in the morning to go pick up his daughter, her plane got delayed by the snow.’ Y/N hummed, not wanting to push her questions on him.

‘I can come pick you up too just as he’s leaving. I think it’d make him feel better. He’s not too uh, fond of me?’ He gave her a cheeky grin. Edward remembered the emotions he heard in Charlie's mind when he placed his hand on Y/N's shoulder in front of the Chief.

‘Duh, boy and girl together? Charlie is a father. I can’t blame him for his instincts. He doesn't know that you have no interest in me.’ Y/N shrugged, leaning back against her headboard head in her arms. This was nice, Edward wasn’t in a perpetually sombre demeanour. It was a welcome change from what she knew in the books. Y/N gave a small smile, peeking up at him through her arms. Edwards black eyes were glinting. His lips were carved into a smile, one with an emotion she couldn’t place. 

‘Okay well, I’ll see you on Sunday then!’ Y/N nodded, sliding into bed, raising the covers to her shoulders.

‘What, are you gonna stay and watch me sleep?’ She teased, nosing her face into her pillow with a cheeky grin. Edward was stunlocked, eyes bug wide and jaw slack. 

‘I uh, I wasn’t going to. That’s not what I was thinking!-’ If the seventeen year old boy could still blush, his cheeks would be blazing cherry red. 

‘I’m just teasing you. Go home Edward, go do your thing. I'll still be here come Sunday. Don’t miss me too much, yeah?’ Y/N rolled her eyes, clicking off her bedside lamp. ‘Turn off the lights for me? And close the window when you go okay?’ 

‘Um, if i-’

‘You’re cute, but not cute enough to be watching me sleep. Go home.’ 

‘I was going to ask if you wanted me to bring you back something.’ His tone was embarrassed and indignant, his lower lip jutting out slightly.

‘Edward, what could you bring back from a hunting trip?’ Y/N looked at him quizzically, options flashing by in her mind.

‘Flowers?’ 

‘Y’know what Ed? If you find a pretty rock in a river, bring that back. Then maybe I’ll let you watch me sleep.’ She snickered, closing her eyes. ‘Good night!’

‘I WASN’T GOING TO!’ He let out in a hushed cry, his small, boyish grin, giving away his amusement.

As Edward turned to leave, Y/N, blinked her eyes open and called out his name once more.

'Hey Edward?'

'Yes?'

"I'm not afraid of you or what you are. If you were a bad person, you wouldn't have saved me.' She looked at him with a firm expression, sending a pang into Edwards unbeating heart.

'That being said, if you watch me sleep without my permission I will find a wooden stake.' Y/N grinned, breaking the tension easily.

'So that means at some point I will have permission?' Edward cheeked, already half way through the window.

‘Night!~’ Y/N sing-songed, rolling over to face the other side of her bed. She heard her window give a soft thump as it closed. That night, Y/N dreamt of red cloaks, black smoke, Wolves and the Cullen's.

The morning could not come faster.

And yet somehow, the dawn came and Saturday began in a cold sweat.

Saturday morning was spent reassuring Charlie that, 

Y/N was safe, no repercussions of the incident had severely injured her other than her shoulder being slightly bruised.

Bella’s plane delay wasn’t too big a deal and that the car coming from Billy Black today would still be in the same shape as it would be tomorrow.

‘Okay but if it hurts you'll let me know.’ He insisted.

‘Yes!’

‘And do you think Bella will like the truck?’ His doe-eyes were soft and begging. From what Y/N remembered, Bella probably got her eyes from him. If Y/N was a bit older…

‘I haven't seen the truck yet, show me!’ She smiled, ending her train of thought quickly. Nearing the front door, she heard the growling of a truck engine, spluttering its way to sleep.

The pair stepped outside, spotting the old 1953 Red Chevy. Y/N had assumed that the truck was in the garage since Charlie parked his cruiser on the street. Huh, this was a little different. Though it made sense, there had been a few inconsistencies in Fork since Y/N had arrived. 

‘Hey! You must be Y/N. Besides Bella’s imminent arrival, Charlie hasn’t shut up about you either!’ Billy gave a fatherly smile, reaching out his hand to shake. Y/N shook his hand, grinning somewhat proudly.

‘I hope I met your expectations sir.’ 

‘No need for that, call me Billy. This is my son Jacob.’ Billy jerked his thumb to point at his son who was still looking at the truck. Billy once again gave her a reassuring grin, and ushered Y/N over to Jacob's direction.

‘Hey!’ Y/N walked over to Jacob, who had waved at her somewhat awkwardly. She let Charlie and Billy catch up with each other.

‘Uh, hey. I’m Jacob.’ He smiled nervously, wringing his hands together. His deep-set twinkling eyes were darting around her form. He really did have the most lovely raven black hair and russet skin. Y/N could understand why Bella had trouble deciding between the two. Besides, she was what, seventeen at the time? Could you really blame her.

‘I’m Y/N. Bet you were disappointed to see me huh? Bella’s coming tomorrow, her plane got delayed.’ She explained, giving him a rueful grin. Jacob however, shook his head, hands waving rapidly in protest. 

‘Oh, no! Not at all! I’m thrilled to meet you! You look great!’ 

Y/N raised her eyebrows with mirth.

 ‘No! I don’t think you look- I mean, you seem great?’ He supplied, looking more nervous now than ever. His tone was now flighty with panic. He was cute. Beautiful even.

Y/N chuckled, punching his arm gently, ‘You sure about that? Sounded more like a question to me.’

‘I just meant that, I’m not disappointed to meet you instead of Bella.’ He sighed, looking sheepish. Damn, a lot of men were looking sheepish lately, Y/N made a mental note. Deciding to cut him some slack, she relented.

‘I know, just messing with ya.’ She laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. ‘Come on, tell me about the car. It looks pretty munted but Charlie said it runs pretty well?’ Y/N gave him a go ahead gesture, to which Jacob launched into a full scaled detail of how he rebuilt the car engine. His long black hair bobbed along with him as enthusiastically gestured to the engine.

‘Alright, kids, Billy has more chores to do in town and I want to show Y/N around town before Bella comes. I wanted to do it yesterday but.’ He trailed off looking guilty.

‘It wasn’t your fault Charlie. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were there or not.’ Y/N said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder shaking her head.

‘Wait, she was the one in the car crash yesterday?’ Jacob looked upset, stepping forward from leaning against the truck. ‘What?’ 

‘Yeah, some guy. He skidded into me. It was a whole thing. Look guys, the point is I’m fine now.’ She pouted, arms crossing. ‘Now let’s hit the road, I want some breakfast.’ 

Jacob and Billy had joined them for breakfast at The Lodge. It seemed that Charlie had wanted to take Y/N there after school that day but the incident had happened. The waitress had been surprised that it was she and not Bella who had arrive with the group but Y/N quickly reassured her that Bella would be arriving the next day. And with that, breakfast came and went. It was satisfying and Y/N had been given the peach cobbler to try. It was in fact, absolutely delicious. By all means, Y/N called it a successful day.

With Charlie gone back to the police station in the afternoon after dropping Y/N back at the house (to her insistence). Y/N could finally mentally debrief herself. It seemed as though she had take on the role of the main character instead of Bella. This indeed was quite concerning for many reasons. The main thing Y/N was currently frazzled over was the self declared fact that Edward and Jacob held pretty much no attraction to her.

Adding to that matter, Edward didn't answer Y/N's question of how her blood smelt. What if he found her revolting. It would explain why he looked like he had been punched the first time he saw her. Could humans smell revolting to vampires?

As Y/N continued to spiral down a pit of what-ifs and what-nots. The sun had begun to set. She had wasted an entire day worrying over things she couldn't control and it had not at all made her feel better. Trudging upstairs to her room she nudged open her door and slumped into her desk chair, groaning.

'What seems to be the issue?' The musical voice of Edward came from her window.

'How in the-' Y/N sat pin straight. 'When did you get back?' She turned around, standing up to greet him, half confused and half surprised.

'Well we left as soon as I got home from your house so we've had more than enough time to uh, eat.' He chuckled, still supporting his upper body with his arms, crossed on her windowsill.

'Um, do you want to come in? I mean honestly, you could have just rung the door bell.' Y/N deadpanned, still happy that he at least waited for her inviation. Y/N stood back as Edward hoisted himself up.

'I brought this back for you?' He smiled, revealing his perfect teeth. 'I went fishing around for it.' Edward pulled out a rough edged, pastel pinkish stone from his pocket with a proud grin.

'Oh my goodness!' Y/N laughed, looking at him with complete astonishment. 'It's gorgeous! Did you really find it from a riverbed?'

'Here, Edward gently grasped Y/N's wrist and placed the rock on her flat palm. 'It's rose quartz and yes I really did find it in the riverbed. You said you wanted a rock.' He looked eager, as if waiting for praise. Not dislike a puppy asking for treats.

'It's lovely Edward, you really didn't have to. Thank you so much.' She placed her newfound gemstone onto her nightstand gently. 'Wow, we're quite early on in our friendship for gift giving.' She laughed, sitting down on her bed, gesturing for him to sit as well.

'I really was joking though, I'm not the kind of person who really enjoys gifts. Don't go out of your way for me. I don't want to be an inconvenience.' She gave him a rather sad smile. 'I wasn't even able to give you anything back. I'm sorry.'

Edward in turn, shifted closer to her, poking at her forehead. 'I didn't do it because I wanted anything in return. I just thought it would be nice.' He sighed, sitting back into his place.

‘I wanted to thank you for.. Well for telling me you weren’t afraid of me.’ His eyes were trained on Y/n’s but it looked as if he was far away. Deep in a bygone era that Y/N would have never seen. 

‘Wow, you really are an emo huh?’ Y/N gave him a little grin, handing him one of her pillows. 

‘Y’know you’re so pretty that most people wouldn’t think someone like you would have such…’ She paused, looking to the side for an answer. ‘Such self deprecating thoughts. I mean, you cringed when you saved me.’ She squinted, looking at him in reflection.

‘Did you regret saving me?’ Y/N rested her chin on her open palm, looking at Edward with confusion.

‘No. I didn’t. I do not.’ The boy answered immediately, looking affronted. Placing the pillow in his lap, smoothing it over with his hands.

‘Then why did you look like you were in pain?’ She asked him in a docile tone. Y/N knew she was pushing his boundaries. Bella had always asked questions upfront and Edward had always avoided them.

‘I can’t.’ Edward growled out, one hand gripping the cotton sheets on Y/N’s bed, eyes cast downwards. 

‘Hey, you can choose not to answer.’ She quickly placed a cautiously gentle hand on his enclosed fist. ‘Just, don’t mess up my bed sheets okay? I can’t ask Charlie for new ones so soon.’ She tried to joke.

‘I will tell you Y/N. But I just can’t tell you right now. I’m…’ He gritted out, looking at her with an emotion that Y/N could only describe as desperation. His hand was shaking with restraint. Y/N remained oblivious to this.

‘Hey, okay. We can talk again tomorrow. If talking to me is too much, I understand.’ She nodded understandingly. ‘Opening up to someone is difficult. Furthermore, I’d say opening up to someone so quickly is kind of.. Well… scary.’ Y/N remarked, sitting back on her headboard.

‘Thanks for listening. I don’t think… You just kind of make it hard to not tell you.’ Edward muttered, with a tone of reluctance.

‘Hey, I’ve been told I’m a good listener. It is one of my many redeeming qualities.’ She quipped, shrugging her shoulders.

‘I'm sure that there are quite a few of those.’ Edward replied smoothly. ‘How is your shoulder by the way? And your head?’ He asked hopefully.

‘One? Flattery will get you nowhere with me. Pretty faces do not sway me easily. Two? I’m okay! My shoulder still feels a bit funny when I lift things but I can just shift onto another arm. I've got two of ‘em.’ She splayed out her arms in a show of attempted dexterity which failed when she winced slightly.

‘I see.’ Edward’s eyes looked stormy, staring at her injured shoulder.

‘Hey, if you hadn’t knocked me over. It would have been the car that knocked me over. I prefer being pinned under a boy than a van, okay?’ She nudged him with her fist. Attempting to bring him out of his potential self loathing spiral.

‘Maybe if i hadn’t said what i said to you. You wouldn’t have been in such a rush to lea-’ 

‘Would have, should have, could have. If my father had two wheels he’d be a bike. There’s no use in lingering in the past. Unless you have a special talent where you can turn back the time.’ Y/N raised her eyebrow.

‘No thats not what I can do.’ He sighed, shaking his head.

‘What can you do?’ She probed, already knowing the answer but wanting to see if Edward would be willing to divulge his secret.

‘Well, I.. I can hear thoughts. I can read minds.’ He began, looking up at her. ‘But, you? I can’t hear a thing. Not only that, when you…’ He paused, eyes flickering as he recollected his memories.

‘Yesterday when you looked at me and frowned, you completely drowned out my ability to hear everyone.’ Edward looked incredulous. ‘It was only for a second but it was when you looked extremely panicked.’ 

‘Huh?’ Y/N’s jaw dropped at his revelation. ‘So you can read minds but not mine?’ 

‘Yes. It’s not altogether unnatural. I mean, Chief Swan’s mind is somewhat blurry to me. But to completely block me out and block out others from me?’ I haven’t ever experienced it before.’ He finished.

‘Huh, so vampires have special abilities. I was only guessing but I guess thats the gist of it?’ She asked, somewhat intrigued as if it were new information.

‘Yes. There are many gifts and talents, we’ll explain more to you tomorrow but-’ Edward sat up straighter (if that were possible), cutting himself off.

‘What?’ Y/N blinked, looking at her door.

‘Chief Swan is coming home. He’ll be here in a few minutes.’ He said, grinning at her guiltily. 'He probably won't be happy to find me here without permission huh?’ Edward gave her a look.

‘Hm, I’d say you’re right.’ She attempted to push him off her bed. ‘Time for you to go Mr Cullen.’ She teased, looking up at Edward. The boy, in turn, looked down at her with a fond smile that she did not understand. 

‘I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N.’ I’ll pick you up at nine?’ He made his way to Y/N’s bedroom window, foot on the windowsill.

‘Yeah, go! Before He catches you! I’m pretty sure he has a gun.’ Y/N mumbled, attempting to push Edward uselessly out the window. 

‘Until tomorrow my lady!’ He jested, letting the girl move him into the opening.

‘Yes sir, I bid thee adieu.’ Y/N grunted, with a final shove, Edward was out the window and landing softly on the ground. Just in time too. Charlie’s car was scratchily rolling through the gravel of the front driveway.

‘Go!’ She whisper-yelled, knowing he could hear her. To which Edward just gave a silent laugh and waved, before disappearing off into the night. Had they been talking that much that the sun had long since said its goodbyes to the horizon?

[my-darling-boy]

I know you're a reenacter but the iron cross hat selfle pfp is NOT a good look without context. I got jumpscared thinking I accidentally followed a neo-nazi blog

Hey! So this is why eduction is really important actually and exactly why more people need to familiarise themselves with symbols, clothing, and history in general as to be able to contextually identify reasons for genuine concern when you believe you have encountered a red flag instead of immediately leaping to conclusions due to lack of knowledge. And being a reenactor, I’m going to take time to educate you on what these things are because this will prevent mistakes like this from happening in the future. Also I like infodumping.

What you are actually looking at is a British cap badge for the Sherwood Foresters Regiment, also commonly known as the Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire Regiment, or Notts and Derby for short. It was active in Britain between 1881–1970. I am a First World War reenactor and my impression in the pfp is of the 15th Sherwood Foresters, a “bantam” battalion, a unique battalion within the regiment historically comprised of men under 5’3” (I’m 5’2”). The “Iron Cross” you think you’re seeing is actually a Maltese cross. Additionally, the Iron Cross predates Nazi Germany by over 100 years; the decoration, conceived in 1813, was one such medal able to be received by those in the then-Prussian/now-German military, or in this case, during the First World War. Both symbols went through some changes over the 19th and 20th centuries, but the basic design is the same. Here is a close-up to distinguish clearly between the two:

My uniform is also that of a British soldier (infantry, in my case) during the First World War. I won’t go through the ins and out of the entire uniform, but let’s take a look at the pfp so we can help you to better identify it in the future because another piece of context that can be gathered about my cap badge is from my uniform which would allow you to infer I’m not wearing a German badge because under no circumstances, especially during WW1, would you ever catch a British uniformed soldier sporting an Iron Cross on his cap.

In my pfp, I’m not even wearing all the correct things because it really was just a cheeky selfie I took some time ago with some modern items to replace what I didn’t have at the time lol. But let’s assume for a minute I’ve actually got full kit. It was meant to be winter, 1917. I’m also wearing my gas mask bag backwards for some reason (I also don’t have it secured).

Firstly, my standard dress (SD) British uniform and greatcoat—latter in spirit—is thick khaki wool. Germans, at least for the times you’re thinking of, wore at lot more blue/slate, grey, and black, with some occasional touch of colour trim like red. Many militaries wore green and brown during this time, the British were amongst them. The “Greatcoat” I’m wearing is at-a-glance-similar to one worn at the time by enlisted men. Gloves and scarves would ordinarily be knit (I had modern ones).

The trench cap is much like a standard peaked cap you might’ve seen in various other occupations and is very much like the khaki stiff cap normally issued only this one was meant to be softer and foldable, able to be stowed away in your pack as space was limited: you carried all your belongings with you wherever you went! It also had a chin strap no one ever realistically wore. While it depends on the year, these caps were usually worn when not on the front line as metal helmets were mandatory instead to protect from the falling debris and other projectiles.

Further down, I have my gas mask and small box respirator (SBR) which wasn’t widely used until 1917. Before this came the PH Hood or Gas Hood which was akin to basically a canvas pillowcase treated with a chemical compound through which you would breathe and featured a couple of glass eyeholes and a goofy looking rubber flap nearer the mouth to exhale. Before this, it was a chemically soaked rag or face cloth, sometimes it was soaked in your own piss as Urea (found in urine) was a natural deterrent for early chemical weapons. As things like mustard gas came more into use, old protections were no longer effective. The SBR was created as it used an internal wire and cotton filter also containing charcoal and soda/quicklime in a small metal box and was housed in a khaki canvas bag worn round the neck; air would pass through the better equipped filter, through the tube, and into a mouth piece making it safer to breathe.

Though not fully able to be seen, I’m also wearing Pattern 1908 canvas webbing. This held…pretty much everything. The whole thing comes apart to be just a belt but can be built up to carry about 150 rounds of .303 ammunition in those small front pockets, a sheathed bayonet and entrenching-tool wooden handle on the left, water bottle on the right, entrenching tool spade (for the handle) on the back or right, and a small or large pack worn on the back to hold extra clothes, hygiene items, kit maintenance supplies, personal items, and any other gear depending on the situation. The webbing was to be covered in a protective layer whose brand name was Blanco which gave the webbing that slightly green tinge and was essentially used to keep the canvas from rotting (today it still takes over 4 hours to put one coat on the whole thing with a small stiff brush, it’s gruelling)

While this certainly isn’t everything, I would hope it would slightly better inform you next time you encounter a British WW1 uniform as to not mistake it for a German WW2 uniform. Bit of an older reference, but below is a loose snapshot of what German infantry uniforms looked like progressing between 1914-1918 as to tell them apart from the ones during WW2.

As far as reenacting goes, not everyone who wears the kind of insignia you misidentified is going to be doing SS or partaking in dangerous ideologies. Germany existed before WW2, Germany famously went through WW1 long before the new Chanel designed uniforms were ever associated with industrialised fascism. I won’t speak for anyone who does any sort of German reenactment as that’s not my place since I don’t dress in that impression, but there is an unspoken code of conduct when you’re in any uniform as a reenactor: your first job is to be a living history educator and certain periods are still Hot, as in, even though the event might’ve ended, the aftermath still has an active impact on current society. It’s your job as a reenactor to be aware and conscious of the effects your visual presence has on a modern audience and take responsibility in wearing it mindfully and carefully as the hobby does not exist in a vacuum. I’m not saying there aren’t people in it to just “play bigot” because there definitely are people who do. But knowing who is and who isn’t largely begins with comprehension, at least loosely, of what you’re looking at. While no one expects you to be an expert, young people especially would benefit from knowing more history and multidimensional social and cultural related knowledge to provide further situational context when encountering these symbols, uniforms, and history. Things like this can help you tell the difference between a history nerd reenacting a British WW1 soldier and someone you think is lusting after a man with a very infamous moustache. Being able to distinguish one thing from another is unsurprisingly really helpful when or if you ever encounter these symbols or content outside of a reenactment setting and can indeed allow you to spot the true unsavoury people even in civvies, no uniform or iron cross required. I understand why you would initially react with fear upon seeing something you thought looked like a symbol which today can serve as a dog whistle for something darker, but learning context is key.

Furthermore I’m not sure how I could provide context to a pfp, other than having maybe say a WW1 signaller as my header image, my pinned post being WW1 related, and pretty much all personal content posted to this blog being about WW1 for over the last 8 years.

Hope this helps!

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

Green Shell Semi-Slug: the researchers who discovered this species originally wanted to name it "Ibycus felis," because it often rests with its tail curled around its body, which reminded them of a sleeping cat

The Latin name of this species is Ibycus rachelae, but it's also known as a green-shelled or long-tailed semi-slug. The species was first described in 2008, and it is found only in the montane forests of Sabah (Borneo) and Peninsular Malaysia.

The term "semi-slug" refers to an intermediate stage of evolution as a snail evolves into a slug. These snails still have shells that are at least partially visible, but they have been reduced to the point where the shell can no longer accommodate the snail's whole body. There are many different species of semi-slug, but most of them have a noticeably reduced, receding, and/or transparent shell that is partially concealed beneath the mantle.

This article describes another peculiar characteristic of semi-slugs (including Ibycus rachelae):

... semi-slugs don’t just look weird, they act weird, too. They employ sharp projectiles called love darts in their courtship rituals, by shooting several of them at a prospective mate. The mate, in turn, shoots several love darts right back.

Researchers have found that if semi-slugs are able to lodge love darts into one another, the subsequent copulation tends to be much more successful. It’s thought that the mucus distributed by the love dart ensures greater survivability of the sperm

This is what the "love darts" look like (when magnified under SEM):

The tiny, harpoon-like structures are made of calcium carbonate, and they transmit certain hormones (via mucus) that help to increase the likelihood of reproductive success. Semi-slugs are not the only gastropods that use "love darts," however; they are also used by some other land snails and slugs.

Sources & More Info:

World Wildlife Fund: Borneo's New World (PDF)

Basteria (Journal): The Slugs and Semislugs of Sabah, Malaysian Borneo (PDF)

Forest Research Institute Malaysia: Introduction to the Land Snails and Slugs of Malaysia (PDF)

Malay Peninsular Terrestrial Molluscs: Ibycus rachelae

Live Science: World's Longest Bug and 'Ninja' Slug Discovered in Borneo

Australian Geographic: Meet the Semi-Slug, a Snail without a Home