#ooc: i know it's a long post but for THIS? it's worth it lol

[chroniclesof15]

It’s All a Bit Meta, Isn’t It?

Alright, babes, strap in for this one because I’ve just had the wildest realisation of my entire existence -- and that’s saying something, considering my life involves fighting off Daleks, flirting with the odd Cyberman, and piloting a sentient time machine.

But this? Oh, honey. This takes the Jammie Dodger.

So, remember when I mentioned I’ve felt like I was being watched? Like there’s always this presence lurking just outside my periphery, observing every move I make? Well, it turns out… I was absolutely right. And no, not in the “Time Lords are spying on me” kind of way. It’s bigger than that. Way bigger. You lot might want to sit down for this one (unless you’re already sitting, in which case, well done for being ahead of the game).

Apparently, I’m part of a TV show. Called… wait for it… “Doctor Who.” I know! I’m the Doctor, and yet someone out there thought, “Wouldn’t it be fun to turn this into a weekly drama?” And they did! Complete with special effects, witty one-liners, and, I assume, lots of running.

Now, here’s where it gets even stranger: there’s this actor. Lovely chap by the name of Ncuti Gatwa. He’s the one playing me! I’ve seen photos of him, and I’ll admit -- he’s got style. Proper snazzy dresser, isn’t he? It’s almost like he is me but… not. And apparently, he’s a big deal! Fans adore him. There are entire communities dedicated to watching “Doctor Who,” talking about me, theorizing about my life, and -- oh, sweetheart -- writing stories about me. Some of them are, let’s just say, a bit much, but we won’t get into that.

And it doesn’t stop there. My friends? You know, the companions who travel with me, laugh with me, save the universe with me? They’re on the show too. Every moment of my life has been adapted into these episodes. Some of the titles are quite good, actually. I’d watch something called “Blink.” Sounds intriguing, doesn’t it?

But it gets even weirder. They’ve apparently been at this for decades. Decades! They’ve documented all my regenerations, even the ones I’d rather not relive (looking at you, celery stick phase). And the fans -- oh, my darling fans -- some of you even pick favourites! Can you imagine? “Oh, I like Eleven better than Twelve,” or “Four was my favourite”. Do you know how odd it is to realise you’re being ranked like you’re part of some cosmic popularity contest?

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Doctor, you’ve finally gone off the deep end.” But the thing is, it makes sense. It’s why I always feel like there’s a script lurking in the back of my head. Why some moments feel just a bit too perfectly timed, like someone planned them that way. It’s not paranoia, darlings -- it’s just meta.

And honestly? I think I’m alright with it. If Ncuti's got my back, and if all of you out there are cheering me on, then maybe this whole “being a TV character” thing isn’t so bad.

So, there you have it. I’m the Doctor, a time-traveling alien and the star of an internationally beloved TV show. Who knew? (Well, apparently you did.)

I’ll keep you posted if I discover anything else about this whole situation. In the meantime, if you’re watching me right now… cheers, babes. Thanks for tuning in. 💛

Love, The Doctor ✨

P.S. Ncuti and Millie, if you’re reading this, let’s have a chat sometime. I could use some tips on the hair. You’re both absolutely smashing it!

P.P.S. Remember when I said I acted in The Importance of Being Earnest? Turns out, I wasn’t actually on stage, babes -- I was just imagining it all through Ncuti’s eyes. His memories got tangled with mine somehow, and for a moment, I was him. Absolutely smashed it, though. Not bad for a time-traveling alien, eh?

[ohodie]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[midniiights-garden]

I love your hcs for modern au! mizu, could you possibly write some headcanons relating to her getting into a relationship?

(A/N: YIPPIEEEEE AN ASK!! Omg I think this would be interesting and there's a bunch of other HCs on this but imma put my own spin on it ^^)

Possible TWs!!: Mentions of sex, internalized homophobia, sexisim, racisim, grooming (??)

~~~

Ok so first of all yeah, I wanna flesh out her past relationship with Mikio in this AU. I think it would be important in shaping Mizu's view of her future S/O.

So, as I said in my last post she probably met Mikio when she was in University, he would probably be a teacher or something. Lowkey, considering the age gap, in this AU he would have probably either been some kind of forced relationship like in the canon or he groomed her in some way.

Either way, it made moder!Mizu really wary of kindness, now viewing everyone who is nice to her as a threat.

I'm also basing her trauma responses based on my own so I hope this isn't too OOC, I'm just tryna work off of what I know lol

So when you came into her life (probably introduced by Ringo because he's a cutie patootie ray of sunshine), she was more than skeptical.

It'd be rocky. You'd try to talk and she would only give short, curt answers. Much like canon Mizu.

It'd probably take a consistent half a year of talking to her for her to finally crack. Either that or you'd do something really nice for her like caring for her whilst she was sick or prepared something for her birthday or something of the likes. Either way, you'd have to really make an effort to befriend and win her over, it's more of a her problem then a you problem.

But once her initial coldness has melted away you find a pretty sincere, caring woman. She's only strict with you if she cares. If she doesn't I believe she's the kind of person who would probably just go "eh, whatever" if you did something stupid. But if she cares she'll be like "DO NOT DO THAT".

She'll realise she's in love probably while she's sick lol

Like, she'll see you helping her at her worst, holding her hair back whilst she throws up or something and be like "...oh my god".

Mizu wouldn't confess too soon after realising, she'd take her time to really think about it. Was she ready for a potential heartbreak? Was this worth it? You might find that she'll pull away a little as she thinks. It isn't intentional, but it will probably happen.

You'd probably have to confess first.

She'd secretly be elated but she wouldn't show it too much at first. Actually, she'd be hesitant to show positive emotions at all in the beginning. But as your relationship progresses she realises you aren't like Mikio. You aren't there because of some made up image of her. You're there because you love her. Not an idea of her, but herself, flaws and all.

She's gonna marry you lol.

(A/N: THAAAAT'S IT!!! Also im so sorry for taking so long with this. my gf left me and its my bday today so ive been like moping and playing sdv lmfaoooo. HAPPY NEW YEARS POOKIES <3)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Family Name

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader (reader was in the Army and SWAT in Central City)

Summary: After ten years away, you return to Gotham. When you discover you know the true identity of the Joker, you join Batman's fight to save Gotham.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vague references to several DC Comics movies and timelines, murder (I can't get too specific about the murder warning without spoiling a plot point, but there is a friendly fire aspect and an assassination by a sniper)

Word Count: 6.6k+ words

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bruce Wayne (or at least posting it lol) so he may be OOC. I actually wrote most of this a year ago and just put the finishing touches on it, so I'm not sure if it's worth reading. Feel free to let me know what you think and send any Bruce Wayne requests you have so I can keep practicing for him! (If you want a specific characterization/actor let me know.)

The map that I used as a reference while writing is included at the end!

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

Gotham is still cold, wet, and smelly. Some things never change, no matter how hard a certain vigilante tries. It’s been nearly ten years since you last set foot in Gotham, and things have changed. For better or worse? Who can tell?

It is raining as you walk out of the train station on the outer border of Gotham City. You shiver and pull your jacket closer to your body as the cold drizzle starkly contrasts the sunny Central City you came from. You hail a cab and tell the driver the address of your temporary apartment. The news station on the radio catches your attention, and the driver turns it up when you ask.

“After a fearsome showdown last night with the Joker, who is still missing from Arkham Asylum, the Batman has been spotted in downtown Gotham. The GCPD is on high alert following several tips of illegal business at the Iceberg Lounge,” they report.

“You new in town?” the driver asks.

“Not exactly. I haven’t been here in years though,” you explain.

“Then you’re new. This is a whole new Gotham. Just stay on the good side of the Batman and you’ll be fine, kid. This is you.”

After paying the driver and pulling your bags from the trunk, you stand on the sidewalk and look up at the place you now call home. The apartment building is old but in decent condition. Especially considering where it is. As the rain grows heavier, you move inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor and entering your apartment. The unit came furnished, so you only have some clothing to unpack. You start a list of the housewares and cleaning supplies you’ll need to buy. Walking around the living room, you notice the cable is hooked up and turn on the television. The local television channels are either out because of the rain or playing broadcasts of last night’s story. Any background noise will do, you suppose, as you leave a news channel on and begin unpacking and cleaning with what little bit of supplies you have.

After cleaning, you take a break and fall back onto the couch. The news is still on, and a face flashes across the scene, filling you with an odd sense of recognition. You lean forward to get a better view before exclaiming, “No way.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“When did you come back?” someone asks as you enter a small department store.

Looking up, you smile when you see a familiar face. “Barbara, hey! Last night. Been in Central City for too long.”

“Should have stayed there,” she says, laughing humorlessly. “Gotham is quite literally the most crime ridden city in the world now. It’s on the sign and everything. At least in Central you have a vigilante to protect you.”

“So does Gotham,” you point out. “He’s all over the news.”

“Yeah, we do. But for every criminal he puts in Arkham, ten more pop up.”

“Is your dad still a cop?”

“He’s the commissioner now. Actually…” She pulls a card out of her wallet and hands it to you. “Call him if you ever get in trouble. Be careful, okay? This isn’t the Gotham you remember.”

“I will. Thanks.”

You watch her leave before you begin shopping for the items on your list. After shopping, you are back in your apartment, cleaning and organizing. The Gotham News has more showtime than Hannah Montana in the 2000s. You find yourself invested in every story they present. Maybe this isn’t the Gotham you remember, but it is still Gotham and your home. If this city needs help, you'll offer everything you have.

“Citizens of Gotham, I am Police Commissioner James Gordon. Regarding the recent red alert at Arkham Asylum, the GCPD is urging residents to stay indoors, lock doors and windows, and most importantly, stay calm. We are not sure at this time how many, if any, patients escaped the asylum. Anyone with information is encouraged to contact crime stoppers at 800-”

You mute the television and look at your closet. An armour-plated uniform hangs front and centre, practically begging you to put it on and fight for your home. If Barbara doesn’t think Batman can handle all the criminals, maybe he would appreciate a little help.

“Don’t be stupid,” you chastise yourself, still looking at the closet. A few minutes later, you find yourself standing in front of the closet, thinking, “But you have the training.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Gotham looks much darker from a rooftop. You find a lookout spot a few blocks from Arkham, assuming anyone who escaped will have to pass you eventually.

“Oh, sweet Gotham! Riddle me this!” a high-pitched voice calls. A moment later, you see a man dressed in a green suit entering the alley below you.

“Now or never,” you whisper as you move toward the edge.

“The more of it there is, the less of all you see. What is it?” Riddler asks.

“Darkness,” you answer as you grab his shoulders.

You pull him backwards and knock him to the ground. His breath rushes out at the impact, and you bring your elbow down to his face, rendering him unconscious before he can catch his breath. The burner phone you bought earlier is programmed with James Gordon’s number in it.

“Gordon,” he answers.

“Riddler is unconscious in the alley at Tomlinson and Pygall,” you say lowly, hoping your voice is disguised enough, before hanging up.

Your attention is ripped away from the unconscious criminal as a silhouette of a bat floats across the sky.

“There’s hope yet, Gotham,” you say, smiling.

✯✯✯✯✯

It seems as though you are better at vigilantism than you expected. Everywhere you go, Batman is either already there or crosses your path. He has yet to see you, that much is sure. Lurking on a dark rooftop, you hear the telltale sign of his grappling hook and are a second too late in realizing he is moving onto the same roof as you.

“So, you’re the one who’s been stealing half my jobs?” he asks, walking toward you.

“You seem busy, thought you might like some help,” you respond, shrugging as you change your voice again.

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the thought. But you need to go home. This is dangerous and you could get hurt.”

You internally roll your eyes at his obvious arguments. “So could you.”

“Doesn’t matter if I get hurt.”

“Me neither. Any idea how many more of them are out there?”

Batman sighs and turns away from you to look over the city. “One or two,” he answers. “The city got lucky; Joker was in solitary and didn’t get out.”

You nod to yourself, moving toward the edge as you ask, “Why does it seem so easy to escape Arkham?”

“Poor security, not enough staff, an old building. The list is endless. Every time someone tries to strengthen it, a stronger foe comes along and breaks it again.”

“You’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Yet nothing’s changed.”

A sound behind you stops your answer. Turning toward the sound, you launch yourself onto the fire escape, ignoring Batman’s pleas to stop. 

“Whoa,” you breathe, looking at the plants growing in the alley. 

“You’re not the Bat,” Poison Ivy, whose news special aired last night, says. “You’d look much better in green than him.”

“Every plant I’ve ever owned has died. It’s one of my talents,” you taunt before throwing a canister from your belt. 

“It won’t work, Buttercup. I’ve been tear gassed many times.”

“It’s not just tear gas,” you call as the plants begin to wither. “It’s concentrated sulfur dioxide. Deadly to plants and debilitating to people.”

She coughs several times before falling. An arm wraps around your waist, and you are hoisted through the air before landing on a rooftop. 

“What was that?!” Batman demands.

“Sulfur dioxide.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it! You can’t just run around taunting criminals in a mask. What if that hadn’t worked and she had hurt you?”

“She didn’t. Besides-“

“No! You don’t get to justify this.” He keeps talking, and you feel like you have heard him before. You watch him closely as he continues berating you. 

“This is not a game. Do you understand that?” Bingo. You smile at him, his chest heaving as he prepares to yell at you again.

“You’re still really protective,” you say lightly. 

Batman turns toward you quickly, shaking his head before asking, “What?”

“In middle school you wouldn’t let me jump from the top of the swing set. Just funny that you’re still so protective when you risk your life every single night.”

“What are you talking about?”

You move toward the edge of the building and look over your shoulder at him. 

“Goodnight, Bruce.”

Batman runs to the edge after you jump, but the alley is empty. 

“Alfred,” he calls into his earpiece. 

“You’ll figure it out, sir. Eventually.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home?” Batman asks as he walks up behind you. 

“No. You told me I couldn’t run around taunting criminals in a mask. Which, by the way, I have some questions about. Can I walk and taunt criminals in a mask or is it the taunting that’s the problem?” you tease, looking up at him from your crouched position. 

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. “I’ll give you a pass for the other night, but you need to go home. Right now. I’m not letting you get hurt for this.”

“Then don’t. Watch my back and I’ll watch yours.” You extend your hand for a handshake as you stand. 

“No deal. Go home.”

“I’m not going home. So, stay with me and we can help each other or I’m going to go hunt him down on my own.”

He narrows his eyes at you before sighing and shaking your hand. 

“Why are you smiling?” he asks as he releases your hand. 

“We always were a pretty good team.”

You see the moment of recognition as his jaw drops under the cowl. He recovers quickly and points at you. 

“Ground rules. Number one: you don’t engage. Two: stay hidden. Three: run if things go south.”

“Got it. Be boring,” you relay. 

“This is not the time for jokes. Our lives are on the line. You don’t even have a good reason to be here.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Please enlighten me,” Batman prods impatiently. 

You can tell he is mad you were here and are not listening to him. Too bad, Bats, you think. Gotham is your home, too, and you aren’t going to let it fall into the hands of some crazy clown or any other criminal. 

“But before you tell me that, tell me what makes you qualified to be out here.”

“Look at me. Armoured uniform, tear gas, I’m a CCPD jacket short of official.”

“You’re CCPD?”

“I was. SWAT officer for five years after I got out of the Army. But I grew up here and I’m not letting this city go without a fight.”

“Why this fight? The one criminal we haven’t been able to stop for almost a decade?”

“Because...” You look up at him and smile. “I know who he is.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Thank you, Batman,” Commissioner Gordon says, shaking Batman’s hand. “We’ll get him in solitary.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Batman replies. 

“Who’s your new helper? Everyone at the station is talking about the reaper that popped up and knows how to take them all down.”

“An old friend. Try to keep them in a while longer this time, will you?”

Commissioner Gordon turns around to see Batman is gone. “We’ll try,” he mumbles into the dark. 

✯✯✯✯✯

The next night, Batman is gone. You don’t so much as see his shadow all night. There is only one criminal out; maybe they’re all on vacation, too. Killer Croc used Arkham’s sewer system to escape and pop up downtown. It was a long and tiresome fight, but you got him on the ground, and the GCPD took it from there. You finally reach the rooftop, preparing to cross them to go home, but don't make it far. Hitting the roof, you feel pain shoot through your ribs. After running your hand across the area, your skin is stained red. Great, you think. 

“What were you thinking?!” Batman reprimands you as he appears and kneels beside you, pulling items from his utility belt. 

“Mostly about what I was going to eat for dinner,” you joke, hissing when the antiseptic hits your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” Batman says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy. At least it wasn’t my neck this time.”

“I told you not to use your belt to traverse the jungle gym,” Batman mumbles. 

“So, you do remember me,” you say happily.

“You’re still an idiot with a death wish.”

“And you’re still Mother Hen Bruce.”

“This’ll help for now,” he says, helping you stand up and hooking his arm under your shoulders. “But I’m taking you back to the cave to get you checked out.”

“Didn’t do enough checking out in high school?” you slur before passing out.

“Alfred, we’re inbound,” he says into his microphone. 

“Glad to see blood loss doesn’t dampen her sarcasm,” Alfred responds, “I’ll be ready.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What did you mean you know who he is?” Bruce asks. 

You blink several times to make sure you aren’t imagining him. He looks different than the last time you saw him. Without the mask, he’s more like the Bruce you grew up with, just older and barely holding Gotham together.

“You got hot,” you say without thinking. 

“Thanks. Now tell me what you meant.”

“That I know who he is?” you clarify, standing up. 

“Please stay down,” Alfred chides as he returns with tea. 

“Thanks, Alfred. Good to see you again.” You smile as you accept the tea. 

“You as well. Now take it easy. You should be battle ready in a day or two but that’s only if you rest properly.”

“No, you will not be battle ready. There is no more battle for you,” Bruce adds. 

“You know I’m not going to listen and if you tell me no I’ll just do it myself.”

“We’ll have this conversation later. For now, tell me what you know about Joker.”

“Okay. He’s my uncle. Like twice removed, or-“

“There’s no way you’re related to that monster,” Bruce interjects. 

“I’m not, really. We’re related by marriage. His aunt or somebody else married my cousin and I happened to meet him a few times. Fate, I guess.”

“Do you know his name?” 

“No. Everyone in the family called him J. I thought his name started with a J but see now that it’s because he’s cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head before turning serious again. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m great. Thanks for the assist.”

“I’m glad you’re back. Even if you are endangering yourself and ignoring everything I say.”

“Me too.”

“But Alfred’s right. You need some rest. We can finish this conversation later.”

“I can go home,” you say, standing up.

You stumble slightly, and Bruce catches you, holding you upright against him. 

“Can you?” he asks, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“I think I found something,” you cheer when Bruce answers the phone. 

“Where are you?”

“My apartment. It’s by Sacred Heart.”

The line goes silent, so you say Bruce’s name. 

“You’re living by the Narrows? I thought you just went out there to fight.”

“It’s a fine building. I’m not in the Narrows.”

“No but you’re between Crime Alley and Arkham Island. You need to find a new place. Now.”

“I can’t afford anything else, Bruce. It was this or Slaughter Swamp.”

“Pack your essentials. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He hangs up, leaving you with a dozen questions. However, you know he means what he says, so you pack the stuff you can’t live without and are ready to go when he shows up twenty minutes later. 

“You’re staying at Wayne Manor until we find you a new place.”

“That is not necessary.”

“It’s not just that this is close to the Narrows. We’re going after Joker, and I need to know you’re safe.”

“We’re not going after Joker,” you correct, “we’re finishing this.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce, I can’t find a marriage certificate. They may not have been married; maybe they were just living together or something and didn’t want to explain it to a kid,” you admit, disappointed in your lack of findings. 

“It’s okay. We will find something. And if we don’t, we can do it another way,” he assures. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is the fourth Arkham breakout in as many weeks. When do you sleep?” you ask. 

Alfred laughs faintly through the communications system. 

“During Wayne Enterprises meetings, usually,” Bruce answers. 

“I got one. Going dark,” you alert before jumping to meet Captain Boomerang. 

After a short fight which results in your earpiece breaking, Captain Boomerang is unconscious, and you prepare to call Gordon. 

“Ha ha ha ha,” an eerie voice cackles behind you. 

You freeze in place before turning slowly and coming face-to-face with the Joker. He knocks your helmet off in one swift move, and your face is now visible. 

“I remember you. My aunt married your second cousin. Horrible family you have. Or should I say had? Ha ha ha ha.”

“What do you want?”

“Is a family reunion not enough? No, I guess you’re right. I mean, marriages end so are we even related anymore?”

“We never were.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Reaper! You know everyone calls you that, don’t ya? Personally, I think it’s a bit morbid but to each their own. I also heard from a little bird that you’re working with the big, bad bat. I had such great hopes for you, and you let me down.”

“What do you want?” you repeat slowly. 

“To be family again,” he answers, smiling as he runs his fingers over your face and hair. 

“What about Harley? Isn’t she your family? You were all she could talk about the other night.”

“Not anymore. She settled for some used piece on her Suicide Suckers. But me and you? Me and you could be the dream team. The family to end all families.”

“I don’t want to be part of your family.”

“When I found out Harley was a harlot, you know what I said? I said I’d peel off her skin and put it on a new body. But I can’t imagine those words coming from her. So, from now on…” he moves his hand to rest in front of your throat as his smile drops. “If Harley wouldn’t say it, you don’t say it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred, where is she?” Bruce asks.

“Toxic Acres. She’s still not responding,” Alfred responds, watching your tracker blink in the same place for the fifth consecutive minute.

“I’m going after her,” Bruce declares.

“Be careful, Master Bruce.” Bruce doesn’t respond, and Alfred mutes the private connection as he watches Bruce’s tracker move toward yours. “And don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re making a mistake, J,” you hiss, the pressure of Joker’s hand on your throat making it hard, but not impossible, to breathe.

“No, they made a mistake,” he argues, moving his hand slightly as he steps back to look at you.

“Who?”

“Your family. All families. Everyone who treats people like outsiders.”

“You mean to tell me you’re doing this - all of this - because you never felt like you belonged in a family?”

“No!” Joker yells, leaning his weight against your throat as he smiles in your face. “Because no family has ever accepted me. I know I don’t belong, but everyone expects families to lie, right? Especially their own, but no, poor Joker always got told the truth! ‘You’re too strange,’ ‘You’re dangerous,’ ‘The kids are scared of you,’ yet no one ever offered to help me fit in.”

You raise your hands to his arm and claw at his skin, growing desperate for air as he rants. He looks over when your hits grow weaker and pulls his hand back. You fall to the ground, wheezing, as you try to take deep breaths. 

Holding your neck, you look up at him and ask, “Then what do you want?”

He kneels in front of you and holds a knife out in his hand. “I want you to find a family and make a Joker-sized hole for me to fill.”

Shaking your head, you argue, “I’m not like you. I won’t do that, J.”

He cocks his head as his smile falls. “Harley wouldn’t say that, would she? And, besides, you’re more like me than you think, aren’t you? And what’s more interesting is that I think you know it. We’re the same, you and I, whether you like it or not.” The knife is raised to your throat as he threatens, “Do it, or I will make another hole in your family.”

“Another?” you ask.

The blade presses against your skin, and you close your eyes, unwilling to give him the theatrics and attention he so desperately seeks. A grappling hook sounds somewhere above you just before the blade is removed from your throat. Joker’s words echo in your head, and your eyes stay closed. Someone gently touches your neck and your face, but you don’t open your eyes, in case it’s him trying to trick you. He does that; you remember that too well.

An arm loops around your waist as a hand pulls your arms over broad shoulders. Only when you’re flying through the air and clinging to him are you ready to admit that Bruce is saving you. Opening your eyes, you see Wayne Tower in the distance. You tighten your arms around Bruce’s neck, and his hand squeezes your waist in response. He lands on the roof of Wayne Manor and rushes into the Batcave.

“What did he do to you?” Bruce asks as he sets you on a medical exam table. The same table you sat on when he saved you after the fight with Killer Croc.

Bruce tries to step back, but you cling to him. He’s the only family you have left, and Joker opened an old wound with his talk of carving a hole in a family to fill himself. That’s what he tried to do with your family, but when he still didn’t fit, he kept carving.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper into Bruce’s suit.

Bruce’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the edge of the table as he cups your head to his shoulder.

“I’m right here,” he soothes. “Not going anywhere.”

He holds you for longer than you realize; time slows down in Bruce’s arms. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands and looks at you intently.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not right now,” you whisper.

“That’s okay,” he promises, nodding.

“The guest bedroom has been prepared and dinner is awaiting you, Master Bruce,” Alfred calls, briefly appearing in the doorway of the Batcave.

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” you ask.

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready. And you’re staying here tonight.”

You don’t argue, nodding as you stand and follow Bruce upstairs. He shows you to a guest room with clothes, toiletries, and more books than you can count. Telling you to use whatever you want; he leaves to change before meeting you for dinner.

When you enter the bathroom to change into the clothes you found in the closet, you see yourself in the mirror. Mostly, you see the red line running across your neck. Joker has hurt more than enough people, you decide, and you meant what you told Bruce; you plan to finish this.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce sits up suddenly. The sun is coming through the cracks in his curtains, but something feels off. He pulls a shirt over his head and walks down the hall, knocking on the door to the guest room where you’re staying. After a moment of no answer, he lets himself in. There’s a note on the bed in your handwriting.

I can’t let him do it again, especially not to you. Please stay home tonight and let me finish this fight. I should have done it ten years ago, but I was scared and ran. This is my chance to make everything right. Please forgive me.

Bruce takes a deep breath, suppressing his urge to punch a hole in the wall. Alfred wouldn’t appreciate another one. He rereads the note, then goes downstairs for breakfast like everything is fine.

“Where is our guest?” Alfred asks when Bruce enters the dining room. “Resting, I hope.”

“She’s gone. She left in the middle of the night to, quote, finish a fight like she should have done ten years ago.”

Alfred’s eyes widen as he stops moving trays onto the table. “You’re going after her, then?”

“No, Alfred, I am not.”

Bruce picks up the paper, as nonchalant as ever, and more convincing than when he turns on his Brucie Wayne charm.

“Why ever not, sir?”

“She asked me not to. And after her reaction to me last night, I’m inclined to listen to her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Bruce drops the paper and looks at Alfred. “I am going to do exactly what she said.” When the paper covers his face again, he adds, “For a while.”

“Good man,” Alfred mutters, returning to serving breakfast.

✯✯✯✯✯

Realistically, you know that breaking into Arkham and executing a patient isn’t the best idea, but it would solve the problem. However, there’s the downside of life in prison for first-degree murder that you’d have to contend with. Bruce would surely visit you, but you don’t want to lose him before you get him back.

Perched on a rooftop, you watch Arkham and hope your trap is being laid as planned. The security lights blink on seconds before the alarm sounds. If Arkham Asylum is good for anything, it’s the consistency of frequent breakouts. No matter who breaks out tonight, you’re prepared. All you have to do is convince them to lay a trap for Joker, convincing him that you killed someone, and then you can pounce. Watching the alley below you, you furrow your brows as you lean forward.

“Catwoman?” you ask incredulously.

She looks up, tilting her head at the sight of you. “Reaper?” she asks, sounding far too excited.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Thieving, I presume?” She nods, and you lower yourself onto a fire escape before jumping to meet her. “There’s nothing here worth stealing.”

“Maybe.”

You clench your hands into fists and look down the alley.

“I think the better question is what are you doing here, Reaper? I’m not exactly in your demographic.”

Under your mask, you press your lips together and consider confiding in her. She cares about Batman as far as you can tell, so if you tell her Joker is planning to kill him (though, in reality, Bruce is his likely target), she may be willing to help.

“Batman dump you? He does that,” Catwoman hums.

“What? No, no, we’re not together like that.”

“Yet,” Catwoman interjects.

“Look, Joker is going to try to kill someone that I love. He’s already ruined my family forever.”

“You just moved here, who could you possibly love here? I thought I fell fast.”

“I grew up here, and-“

Your mind races as you remember that you haven’t been seen with Bruce since returning, but Joker has been out since then. Pulling the earpiece from your pocket, you hope someone is in the Batcave.

“Hello?” you ask into it, desperate and terrified for your family. “Take whatever you want,” you tell Catwoman when you don’t get an answer, “heck, take something for me too. But if you see Batman, tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Sure.” You move toward the end of the alley before Catwoman asks, “What should we call you?”

Smiling, you answer, “Reaper is growing on me.”

“Good luck, Reaper.”

You could have taken a grappling hook before you left Wayne Manor last night, but you were more concerned with Bruce’s safety than yours. Getting off of Arkham Island and into Gotham Heights will take too long on foot.

“Batman?” you ask, trying the comm again. “Anybody?”

“You called?”

You slide to a stop, nearly falling over, when you see Batman perched on a roof, looming like a gargoyle. He spreads his cape as he moves to the road before you. Looking down at you, though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s trying to ensure you’re safe and unharmed.

“He’s going after Barbara. I thought he meant you, but he was out when I saw Barbara.”

“I’ll call Gordon. We need to get to Gotham Heights.”

“We’ll never make it in time. The alarm sounded twenty minutes ago.”

Bruce’s head turns toward you as he presses a button on his utility belt. The Batmobile turns a corner, coming to a stop beside you. Your eyes widen as the top opens, jumping in the passenger seat as you look at everything in awe.

“Barbara is stronger, and knows more than you think, but she can’t hold him off forever.”

You nod, prepared to do whatever you have to do. Even if it means making Bruce hate you.

“And I forgive you. Whatever you do, I understand,” Bruce says quietly. “Just- just remember that your actions affect more people than just you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s a trap. The driveway beside Barbara’s place is decorated like the cookout where you met Joker.

“Go check on Babs, I’m right behind you,” you tell Batman.

He hesitates, noticing exactly where your focus is, before tapping your shoulder and running toward Barbara’s door. When Batman is out of sight, Joker’s laugh surrounds you.

“Did you do it?” Joker asks, stepping out of the shadows.

“No.”

“Whyever not?” he asks with a laugh.

“Because I’m not a killer. We are not the same.”

“Come over here,” he demands. You listen despite your body’s urging to leave. “And give me a real reason,” he adds when you stop across a picnic table from him.

“That is the real answer. I will not do to another family what you did to mine. I’m not a killer.”

“Now, now, now, that’s not true.”

His eyes are fixed on your mask, likely imagining your furrowed brows and scared eyes. “Is the mask necessary, Reaper? We know one another. It’s just family here.”

You swallow as you rip the mask off, levelling your gaze on Joker, determined not to show him how much he is affecting you.

“If you hurt her, I will end you.”

Joker flaps a dismissive hand. “She’s fine. I just needed a reason to celebrate, but you didn’t keep your end of the bargain.”

“I’m not-“

“A killer, yes, so you say. However, there’s a family out there that begs to differ.”

You lick your lips, unsure how he knows this. The record was redacted and eventually destroyed, so no one outside of your team at the time should know.

Joker’s laugh draws your attention back to him. “You are a killer. Just like me.”

Shaking your head, you flinch when Joker slaps his hands onto the table, leaning forward to get closer to you. 

“Joseph,” Joker whispers, smiling widely at your surprised movement.

Someone screams in the distance, and you remember your promise: to protect your home, no matter the cost. Unholstering the gun you hadn’t carried in years, you hold it to Joker’s forehead.

“Do it,” he begs, leaning against the barrel. “Show them how alike we are.”

Your arm shakes as you fight to do it. With a finger on the trigger, Joker should be gone already, but you can’t do it.

Lowering the gun, you sigh, preparing for Joker’s next idea or a surprise dose of his laughing toxin. He watches you until he reaches for something. Before you can lunge forward to stop him, a shot rings out in the Gotham night. You hear it as Joker jerks to the side, slumping to the ground. Turning toward the right, you search the skyline for the shooter. You see a familiar salute and laugh to yourself as the silhouette disappears.

 “Reaper!” Batman yells, rushing toward you. He slows as he sees you standing over Joker.

There’s a note, half blown apart. He took credit. You laugh again, oblivious to Batman’s concerned gaze on the back of your head. The laughter quickly turns to hiccups as you fight to remain composed. You walked out of Wayne Manor prepared to assassinate Joker. Now that you have essentially been an accomplice to his death and reminded of your worst mistake, you’re falling apart.

Bruce whispers your name, a hand on your arm as he turns you away. He raises a hand to your jaw as the first tear rolls down your cheek.

“I killed him,” you admit.

“No, you didn’t. That shot was too far away, no one will blame you.”

“I killed Joseph,” you repeat. “I didn’t see him, and there was so much fog and- I shouldn’t have taken the shot.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I left the Army and joined SWAT because I killed a civilian. I don’t know how Joker knew, but he was right. I am a killer.”

“Hey, hey.” When you don’t respond, Batman summons the Batmobile, whispering to Gordon on the phone as he helps you into the passenger seat.

Once you’re in Wayne Manor, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Bruce’s shirts, he pulls you into his arms.

“You’re not like Joker, and you’re not a killer. Friendly fire is a terrible thing, but it’s not your fault. You can’t keep blaming yourself for that. Saving people has its costs, and if I could take the guilt from you, I would.”

“I don’t even know how it happened,” you confess, “I dream about it all the time, but I don’t remember actually pulling the trigger.”

“You may never know. But either way, you can forgive yourself and move on.”

Wiping under your eyes, you lean against Bruce’s chest as you ask, “What did Gordon say? How’s Babs?””

“Their ballistics team is examining the velocity and angle to find where the shot came from. Barbara didn’t even know anything was happening, she’s fine.”

“The roof of Verdant in The Narrows,” you whisper, laying an open hand over Bruce’s heart.

“That’s too far for a shot like that.”

“Not for Army snipers.”

“Friend of yours?”

“Used to be,” you shrug before adding, “Lawton started killing for money, and I couldn’t support that.”

“Wait,” Bruce interjects, pushing you back slightly, ducking to look into your eyes. “You’re telling me that Deadshot just killed Joker? For free?”

“He doesn’t do anything for free,” you answer, smiling. “But I didn’t pay him if that’s what you think. Besides, he left a calling card of sorts.”

“Not at all. Batman will call Gordon tomorrow and let him know.”

“What’s Batman doing tonight?”

“He’s on vacation,” Bruce sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. “And Bruce Wayne is catching up with an old friend.”

Smiling, you turn sideways to press your chest against Bruce, laying your arms over his shoulders.

“I think that sounds like a great night.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“I found something,” Bruce says, removing his cowl as you enter the Batcave.

“A life?” you joke.

“Ha. No, I had a friend of mine go searching for that destroyed Army record.”

“Why?” you ask quietly, wringing your fingers together.

“Because you didn’t kill Joseph. Your gun never went off, and the shot came from a different direction with a much higher velocity. This looked like sniper.”

“You think it was Lawton?”

“Wouldn’t be surprising.” Bruce tilts your head toward him and looks you in the eye to add, “But the important thing is that you have no reason to keep carrying that burden.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come on patrol with me.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“You won’t. Not with me around.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Bats.”

“Catwoman,” Batman answers.

“Reaper was looking for you a few nights ago.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other. Thanks, though.”

“She said you weren’t together like we were, but I find that very hard to believe.”

“Give them back,” you say, surprising both Catwoman and Batman.

“Give what back?” she parrots.

You hold your hand out. “The pearl necklace and earrings you stole. They’re not worth anything to the woman, but they’re sentimental.”

Catwoman huffs, pulling a small bag from her pouch and tossing it to you. “I chose them for you anyway.”

“What?”

“You said to steal something for you too.”

“I thought my best friend was about to get murdered, I didn’t mean it!”

“And did you mean what you said about not being with Bats here?” She places a hand on her hip, and you take the opportunity to look at Batman before answering.

“He’s just not my type,” you answer, shrugging one shoulder.

You see his jaw twitch before he nods his farewell to Catwoman.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whisper as you walk past him. “And we’ve got a crocodile to catch.”

Batman sighs. “Welcome to Gotham.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Whose are they?” Bruce asks as you examine the pearl jewellery.

“Mine,” you answer, not looking at him. “What are the chances she’d use my permission to thieve to rob me?”

“Not bad with Sel- Catwoman.”

“Selina Kyle, yeah, I know.”

“Sentimental, huh?”

You turn toward Bruce, passing him the necklace.

“I told your mom that I liked her pearls, like five months before she was killed, and the next day she surprised me. She picked me up from school and told me we were going shopping. They’re the cheapest ones the store had, but I’ve loved them ever since because they came from someone I loved and… I guess they made me feel a bit more like her, and she was amazing.”

When you look back at Bruce, he’s still holding the necklace, but his gaze is on you. He sets the necklace down, stepping toward you. Gripping your waist, he pulls you against him with a wide smile.

“You’re amazing too.”

“Not like her.”

“There’s no one quite like her. But she loved you too, more than you know. Actually, she thought we were going to get married,” Bruce adds, nudging his nose against yours.

“I did too,” you whisper.

Bruce kisses you quickly, pulling back to gauge your reaction.

“Based on the newspapers, I thought you’d be better than that,” you tease.

Bruce clicks his tongue before pulling you into another kiss. While he takes your breath, he fills you with love and hope. His hands keep you as close as possible, one sliding up to hold your head as he deepens the kiss, whispering something against your lips.

“Wait,” you mumble, moving your hands from his jaw to his chest. “What did you say?”

Bruce smirks, the charm that no one gets to see any more on display. “That I love you.”

Your eyes widen, and you grip his shoulders as you rise to kiss him, informing him that you feel the same. “I love you more,” you say against his lips, melting into him as you become one.

“My mom would want you to have her pearls,” Bruce whispers, rubbing his thumb in large sweeping motions against your upper hip. “And she’d want us to see where this goes.”

“Your mom was very smart,” you muse, putty in Bruce’s hands as he moves to the couch, tugging you into his lap.

“Did you love my mom enough to take her last name eventually?”

“This is more important – I love you enough.”

“Finally!” Alfred exclaims as he walks in with a tray of tea and biscuits. “It is about time you officially join the family and take the name.”

[vorfreudevortex]

a portrait of us - eight

a nanami x reader smau

masterlist

warnings: angst lol, slow burn, swearing, a little ooc, a typo or two

notes: ngl i am starting to hate this story but it's okay!! also I'm drunk but I'm posting this anyways idc. also - written portion - 1.3k words (?!!). i'm finding it impossible to not write long ass parts. also pls feel free to request or ask me anything bc i don't like this smau and need something to distract me in between writing it <3 love u bye

as the car pulled up to the museum’s front entrance, you shakily smoothed your hair and dress with one hand, the other clutching a crumpled sheet of paper with your speech.

you couldn’t decide which was more pitiful. the frizzy flyaways escaping your hastily curled hair? or the piece of stationary, painstakingly flattened but still creased, one of the thirty-two drafts you’d written, retrieved reluctantly from the hotel floor?

the driver parked as an attendant opened the door, offering a hand to help you out. the museum director approached with a reassuring smile, and a suit probably worth more than thirty of your paintings combined.

the driver parked an attendant opened the car door and offered you a hand to help you out. the director approached you with a comforting smile and a suit that probably cost more than 30 of your paintings combined.

“welcome! how are you feeling?”

“to be honest,” you replied with a nervous smile. "I'm terribly anxious.”

he chuckled, holding the front door open for you. “that’s perfectly natural. don’t worry! the patrons will love you and your work. anyone would be foolish not to.”

“thank you, director…” you murmured, his words doing little to calm your trembling hands.

the head assistant joined your walk to the gallery hall, peppering you with one question after another.

“the catering service has just finished setting up. would you please take a final sample of the gyoza and ohitashi? they don’t look quite the same as they did during the original tasting…”

“we have a very important guest from malaysia… would you like me to introduce you two when she arrives? it would be a shame if you didn’t at least find time to say hello…”

“are you absolutely certain about the painting for the final reveal? i know you said it’s special to you but the other assistants and i agreed that the other one would-”

“alright, that’s enough questions,” the director interjected as you neared the gallery hall. you let out a small breath of relief. you thought you might burst if another word came out of the assistant’s mouth. “please go make sure the waiters have the champagne chilled and poured.”

“thank you,” you whispered to the director as the assistant walked away.

“please, don’t thank me. they can be so overbearing. sometimes, it’s better to just let things flow as life means them to,” he replied with a smile.

“yeah…” you replied, glancing at your paintings, their eyes seemingly judging you.

“i can see you’re terrified, and that’s okay. you’ve never done this on such a big stage before!” he laughed. “but truly, it’s not all that different than a smaller exhibition.”

“i don’t think i deserve to be here.”

“if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be.”

you looked at the director, letting his words calm your nerves a bit. your gaze wandered to one of your paintings, a vibrant reinterpretation of jeanne: spring by édouard manet, now alive with bold reds and yellows. 

it was both different and familiar, evoking nostalgia even in those who knew the original. the abstract strokes depicted a striking dark-skinned woman you had met in the park, with bright orange braids cascading down to her waist, her skin glowing against the polka-dotted umbrella she carried.

upon meeting her, you had eagerly asked to paint her, offering what little savings you had left in return. she had given you a sideways smile and agreed, letting you capture her portrait for free.

over the next week, you posed her in your small apartment, finding moments between both of your busy schedules. when you finally showed her the finished piece, she grinned again and said, “oh sweetie, you’re gonna be big one day.”

though she couldn’t be here in tokyo, her spirit was with you, embodied in the painting with that sideways smile even the umbrella couldn’t overshadow.

"onee-san!"

your attention shifted from the painting to the other side of the room, where a group was led by itadori yuji and his toothy grin.

"itadori-kun!"

“and me! hello?” satoru added playfully.

“of course, you too,” you smiled. “thank you for coming, i'm so thrilled you’re here. you all look amazing!”

“no, you look amazing. and i wouldn’t miss this for the world,” satoru said, hugging you. "onee-san, i want you to meet all my students!”

as he finished introducing you to the first and second years, a warm hand rested on your shoulder. you turned to see an old classmate, now with long hair and a familiar pair of boots.

“shoko ieri, take my shoes off right now!” you laughed, throwing your arms around her.

“um, no way. you never even wore them when you had them,” she teased.

shoko's expression softened as she noticed the tears welling in your eyes. she looked just the same, but you couldn’t help noticing the worry lines between her brown, evident even with her smile.

“i didn’t think i'd see you again,” she said quietly.

“me neither… i'm so-”

“-stop talking,” she interrupted. “we brought gifts for you!”

you let go of shoko while yuji held out a large bouquet of blue and pink daisies.

“oh, stop it!” you exclaimed, taking the flowers. “they’re beautiful. thank you all so much!”

“we’re not done yet! there’s more,” satoru said slyly, holding out a small black box.

your heart nearly stopped when you pried the lid open to reveal a large pearl pendant on a gold chain.

“you-”

“-there’s more. look under the velvet,” shoko urged. you carefully lifted the padding to reveal a check with the note “a commission for the staff and students” made out for…

“ten million fucking yen?!”

“whoa, language!” satoru laughed. “kids, go run and play or something.”

“shoko, did you know about this?” you panicked as the students filed away with quiet giggles. “i seriously can’t accept this!”

“yes, you will,” shoko retorted, crossing her arms.

“a commission for what?”

“girl, did you even read the check?” satoru huffed playfully. “you’re gonna paint a portrait of the staff and students at jujutsu high. and hopefully, instead of ignoring us, it’ll cover a plane ticket back so you can visit us next year.”

tears welled up in your eyes again, spilling down your cheeks.

“no. seriously. i-no! i can’t accept this! this is an insane amount of money for a commission like that. i'll paint for you guys for free. and you’ll return this necklace because i know you spent too much money on it, too.”

“stop talking and just accept the gift,” shoko urged.

“but i don’t deserve it.”

“now you’re just spouting nonsense,” satoru said as he placed a hand on your shoulder and turned you toward the gallery entrance. he pointed at the large banner bearing your gallery information. “what does that banner say?”

“it says my name,” you sniffled, still clutching the flowers and box.

“no, idiot. i'm talking about the quotes.”

“um…” you blinked away tears. “someone truly exceptional…?”

“and?”

“a modern-day van gogh…?”

“one more.”

“art that every being should hope to be privileged enough to experience.”

“good job, you can read!” satoru smiled, giving your shoulders a slight shake. “some snobby rich art critics said that about you. now, stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself and make sure everyone has their attention on you tonight.”

“and deposit the check when you get home,” shoko added.

“yes, please deposit the check,” satoru agreed. “if you lose it, i'll be pissed.”

you wrapped your arms around satoru and shoko, squeezing tight in tearful appreciation. they had no idea… the check would cover over a year’s worth of rent, premium canvases, all fine-haired brushes you could ever want, and even a payment on a car. you swore to yourself that you’d pour your soul into painting them a fucking masterpiece.

“now let go,” satoru said, pushing you away. “and go impress all these high-class art people.”

“okay, okay, i'm going!” you smiled with a sniffle.

wiping your tears away, you waved at your classmates as you walked further into the gallery to greet the small crowd that had arrived. sometime during your conversation, your hands must have stopped trembling.

“you’re gonna be just fine,” you thought to yourself with a grin.

next: part nine

tag list // @bubybubsters @sad-darksoul @corvid007 @kenqki @ikon-teen

© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.

[1eoness]

uhmmmm actor leon kennedy?? mayvbe

cw: dom! ooc leon kennedy x sub afab reader | no specific leon | he's kinda weird here idk | creampie | praise | mild degradation | wee bit of size kink idk

[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni}

a/n bc i love rambling : so uhmmm when i was writing this there was an electric explosion right outside of our house so the power's out in our neighborhood and im back in this damn cafe LMAOOO

a/n : (update lol)i wrote this like monthssss ago (wtf this sucks).. so im back nd im gonna post this bc why the fuck not it's still rllyyyy bad and a lot of word repeating but yeah just felt like posting lol

synopsis : actor!leon kennedy has been in the gig too long to deal with nepotistic, wide-eyed girls like you. yet much to his exasperation, you're just too much of a greenhorn in the showbiz world.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -you can fucking skip this part idc- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you've only ever heard his name maybe once or twice in one of the magazines in your mother's bar. you must've read it over and over again, having to see his name and face habitually to endure the excruciating hours of working behind the bar with your phone in a locker. you weren't particularly enthusiastic about films or Hollywood or WASP families, either. but it was better than nothing.

it started like this. you were wiping the cedarwood slab that dewed with beer, when the woman who sat across you (having drunk maybe 4 pints) reached over with her veiny, grisly hands. the acrylics tapped at your temples when she held your awkward face.

said "woman" was your aunt who just got back from monaco. and she's been urging you to work with Pierce. whoever that was.

you were well content with the life you had right now. but sometimes—often in front of your vanity— you did find yourself fantasizing about the 'big city'. you caught yourself in a cliche dream but the idea was invigorating, the mere machinations of those opportunities dangled above your eyes like meat on a stick.

"..oh, but.. i don't think it's practical, you know?" you excused as you dismissed the billowing thoughts in your head. even if you had the physical assets that aligned with the director's vision, it would still feel wrong. some people go to literal schools for this stuff, don't they?

but she remained persistent. and after a low, lighthearted sigh, she continued her persuasion. "..y/n, you're a diamond in the rough." your aunt neared you, holding your hands together in a friendly hold. "..let me make it a reality for you."

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

so. were you a natural? hell no.

you're wearing a costume that you can't even touch without the stylists getting mad at you. you got harped on and poked at for so long you were starting to get a migraine. the studio refused to let up on you, jabbing at you passive aggressively until you curled like a millipede. honestly, you were more pissed than sad!

and leon? god, he was a total fucking hottie. and he was totally cold.

the director announced an hour break to everyone just before they'd jump straight to the next scene. you remained sat on one of the props, hands clasped on your lap, contemplating the choices you've made over for the 7th time today. you were fidgeting like you were anxious. you forgot how breaks felt. the luxury was there, five star hotels, velvet cushions and robes and office gossip and dinners with imported wine and cheese. but it felt like hell. working with leon was the only thing that made it even ten percent worth everything, but even he doesn't seem to like you. why was everyone so mean? fucking fair enough, you were beginning to hate this place so much you might ask for a cigarette yourself.

the petrichor mellowed through the film set, nibbling her skin with chill. nights in raccoon are cold, you needed to keep mind of that in case you decide to open your front door without a jacket. the alleyways were diffused by vapor lighting and LED signs. you also had another superficial thought. what do people on set usually do when they're on break?

you whip your head up, legs swinging slightly as you scanned the area. most of them are either adjusting equipment, going through script, or smoking one. you turned your head to your right without expecting much.

you saw leon leaning against the wall, next to the director, sharing smoke (you're beginning to see this is a trend) and cheap laughs. you were mildly surprised, not realizing they were both adjacent behind you, and you felt goosebumps rise when your eyes landed on leon. you quickly looked forward again. you didn't want to move away.

you missed leon's subtle smirk to himself when his gaze flicked to the crown of your hair. he took a puff of his stick, still sounding like he was talking to the man beside him. his eyes didn't leave you and the way you sat there like you were going to spend the remainder of your break spacing out.

leon's voice was nonchalant behind you. to you, it was faint chatter. "...life will chew you up and spit you back out before too long, but that's..."

...

was he talking to you?

leon wasn't too nice on you while you guys were on set, but he wasn't so directly mean either—emphasis on directly.

he's earned word of you from both your aunt and the director, obviously. he doesn't look like the type, but sometimes he has a knack for gossip. that's just how the nature of stardom works, doesn't it? name number #1 did this that tto name number #2, someone divorced someone, someone slept with someone—and the whole world goes aflame. he could care less about where you came from, why you're really here or who you were connected to. but something about you was thought-provoking. contrasting you, he worked for where he was. you just sat there looking pretty and snagged the role right away. maybe that sort of incompetency and oblivious audacity made you stand out from the rest. he found it pathetically attractive. you're an artless girl.

your head swiveled over your shoulder, looking behind and up at leon.

leon's eyes met your gaze halfway. "aww. is this your first big time acting gig, baby? no need to be nervous, it'll be alright." a tinge of mockery sweetened the husk of his voice. the director, who you now know is 'pierce', snickered at leon's subtle sarcasm.

the director tells him he's going to announce everyone to continue, since he wanted the rain to 'sex things up'. heaven's dew tapped lightly on the concrete as the director mounted his back off the vandalized walls, leaving you and leon alone in the same space. oh god.

for a minute you sat there quietly, letting the tension sink in upon the director leaving. you tentatively take another glance at leon. he wasn't looking at you anymore, and his hands were out his pockets as he swipes the little box open. soft brown tufts wisped when he shook his head to get the rain off his hair.

you got off the table. you walked to leon. you'd say your feet were moving on its own.

his head shifts to your direction. his bangs falling over his face. a gust of wind breezes by, and he smells deep, musky. like cardamom. cedarwood.

" if anyone's givin' you trouble on set..." leon looks down as he slips a cigarette in his mouth, rummaging in his pocket for his lighter. "you come to leon... 'kay?"

his hush voice was honeyed whiskey when it wooed at you, applying simple emphasis to his two-syllable name. leon, leon, how that name would sound in bed. there's a slight tease to his eyes, before diverting his attention to his cigarette, casting an orange glow in his palms when he flicks the lighter on with his thumb. his presence was prodding, inviting you with every inch of his body language. this man was blazing and you were a fucking moth.

he likes the way you're looking at him right now. your eyes are batting at every subtle sculpt of him. you can look away but he knows you're still thinking about him.

such a sweet thing, this one.

he decides to be 'friendlier', pitying the fact that you're obviously having a hard time socializing with the crew. "what's your favorite movie, doll?"

"mm.. i liked kill bill. and pulp fiction." you converse casually.

a name rolls off his tongue. "quentin tarantino." he nodded in what seemed like approval, watching a puddle.

you blink. "what?"

he glances at you and he doesn't reply, before leaving that wall all to yourself.

...

leon's tongue trickles with the taste of vouvray. you were art in the shadows, the honey lighting of the dimmed lamp doing nothing to illuminate leon's hotel room. your lips are glossed with his saliva, evidence of your breath went after he made out with you.

you're barely holding it, all while his big hands purchased at your flesh, drinking in the way you straddled his boner. the subtle friction where you were able to feel how big he really is intimidated you, blooming excited butterflies, your stomach fluttering at each soft push of your hips. you watched with your palms flat on his stomach, the soaked fabric of your panties collecting and staining all over his boxers as you stifled a needy whimper. "y'need it now, baby? oh, don't go soft on me now... i'll take care of you, just tell me."

his pretty baby, sitting on him and too shy to plead from the big shot. leon's hands languidly travel your skin, palms massaging up your sides. "...i-i wan' it.. i want you.. please.." you murmured hazily, leaning down to give him a soft kiss to compensate for the bashfulness that rode over your speech.

"is that right, sweetheart?" he bit his lip gently at the teasing sight, loving the way you sounded needier by the minute. "oh, baby, go on. it's all yours, yeah?.." he crooned, patting your thigh gently.

"easy, baby.. oh, there you go.. atta girl.." he groans prettily when he's muttering you through it, eyes delectably gazing at the way you sink on his length. it was cute to him seeing you not knowing what to do with your hands. but he watches you settle them on his built torso, and he could only look at you in adoration. god, he was so fucking thick and you were so highly strung..

leon's touch stroke at your knees. you aren't moving, and he looks almost amused seeing you try to render just how he feels inside you. "i can't.." he heard you murmur before you giggled quietly, to which made him chuckle as well. but the flustered laughter dies down. the actor groans, feeling your fluttering grip around his cock, making it his instinct to hold onto your waist.

it didn't take long before you started getting loud. your arousal lathered up and everytime you pump down a creamy squelch. "mhmmm... uhh, keep going.." leon whispers, and his eyes stared at where your bodies met. you could hear a soft whimper from him—vocally begging your sweet little self to go faster.

leon watches you trying to change the speed. poor girl, you looked like you were already starting to ragdoll. you resisted stopping, unable to with the way he'd rub into the right spots. leon took your small, depleted whine as a sign for him to initiate. he was just letting you have your fun. just until you'd get a bit frustrated. by this time he'd already lit another cigarette and the stick perches between his lips.

"..tiring, ain't it, sweetheart?" leon coos, feigning pity for you, fingers clutched at your hips like its his favorite thing to hold. he started to thrust up into your sopping little cunt, pulling a weak mewl out of you. there might be nothing he loves more than watching your supple frame as it bounces atop him.

"mmm.. aww 's okay, baby.. leon's got you.. mhm, that's right." he responds to every quaint sob you make. his stamina was stubborn as he gradually shifted his pace.

"nice and quiet, baby... don't want th't fucker 'pierce hearin' you..." leon almost feels like a sick fuck, pretty lips grinning slightly as he moans. "god, fuuuuck... mmmhh... uh- f-fuck!" leon almost whines before giving you a harsh thrust, as if he were desperately trying to make you his cocksleeve. if you were going to take it so well then you shouldn't be surprised at how he's gonna force you down, and keep you in place while he sluts you out.

you're murmuring something, and the words fall like blabber to his ears.

leon smiles endearingly, as if he isn't fucking you stupid right now. "mhhh.. wanna cum? you wanna cum?" leon asks as he tries to make sense of what you're saying.

and you gulp, gasping through your watering voice. "w-wanna cumm.. give it t'me-"

he tries not to laugh.

"c'mon, let me make you cum... i'll make it feel good.." leon murmurs before you could feel him pound into you, a whine dripping like syrup from your voice. your body barely keeps up. you feel tight and it's making leon's head tilt back a bit. "oh, there you go, sweetheart... atta girl.." he mumbles hazily as his mind starts to get messy.

"like that? uhuh? mmmh?~" leon moans back almost mockingly at each pleasured whine that spilled your voice. you're mindlessly pawing at whatever you can reach on leon, turning him on with your helplessness. "takin' me nice and well-..." he growls as he starts to piston up into your cunt brutally. you look cuter when you're stuffed with leon's thickness, when you're crying on what you begged for.

"leon, c-cumming" you lolled out in a low moan, head leaning slightly. "i'm gonna cum.."

he responds with a groan, hips rocking upward as he feels you clenching around him. "go on, baby, give it to me. 'm right here,"

he has you shuddering when you cum, the vibrating sensation jolting to your brain as it reeled in pleasure. it takes a few shallow thrusts to keep you satisfied but it's hard to tell when you're already sniffling and twitching on top of him. you wipe your face as you draw a few breaths. leon reaches to warmly take your wrist, thumb pressing onto your skin, feeling your heartbeat.

he watches you gather your bearings before generously caressing your hair once. you help yourself off leon's shaft and a heavy-sounding breathe escapes him in wonder.

leon whispers something once he leans into you and chucks his half-dead cigarette into the ashtray. "c'mere.." his one arm tucked around your back and eventually the other to your leg as he makes you lie down. he treats you with some sort of delicacy, at least until he doesn't.

leon tugs you closer with his arm hooked loosely under your knee, pulling your princess body in for a few intimate kisses to calm the both of you. he tastes mildly bitter. you hummed in his mouth when your lips lock together, eyes fluttering while you felt weak. leon starts muttering as he asks if anything hurts, if you're okay, if you're gonna stay here for the night. for a moment he doesn't say anything and he's just gazing down at you languorously while he breathes. he kisses one of your eyelids before he shifts.

maybe leon liked you better like this, on your fours, limping against the satin bedding as you cried and panted in a way that seemed like suffocation. his thick fingers tug at your hair once, your only teary view being the couch and the TV that dimly mirrored a reflection of you being held down be leon as he rammed into your dribbling hole tenderly. your legs occasionally kicking up against him, hitting him with your ankles as you found it hard to not writhe. he watches you peek over your shoulder, the expression in your eyes instigating struggle. "what?" leon tugs at your hair again, fighting the toothy smile from his face as he fucked you brainless. "didn't think i could make a whore out of you?"

leon lets go of your hair to rut into you with urgency. the bed was starting to jut out small squeaks from leon's rhythm. he leans closer, chewing on his lip as his eyes narrowed in pleasure. a soft growl emanates from behind you, skin on skin, breathing near your ear. the rough hands that were once planted near yours on the mattress start to grip your forearms like handles. he watches your back contort.

you jolt up as leon yielded you to his body, impaling you with his girth in a routinely fashion, urging you to cry louder. "oh, baby.." he whimpers lowly as he starts to feel himself lose control again.

"fuck, i can't.." you wail out, head hanging low briefly. he notices.

"ready to pass out, honey?" he pants softly.

you weakly shook your head.

"good girl." leon bit his bottom lip, whispering out a needy 'fuck' as he slammed into you while pulling you back. he felt satisfied by the way you yelped. his brows furrow, expression tainted with a lustful and crude color as he almost began to drool. brown strands started to get in the way of his vision. his breath is suddenly hitched, water lining his eyes as his voice turned up a note. he hisses, head tilting to the side. "fuck, fuck,-" his gruff words start to match with his thrusts. "take it- all-, yes, baby, that's a good- fucking- mnnnghh..."

it takes leon a while to recover, moaning lowly and riding his orgasm, watching you spasm beneath him while he spills inside you without much restraint. he tiredly fucks his load in you before he gives out and huffs a spent whine. he catches a glimpse of it. you're leaking white.

you're breathless, fatigued, sweating, and almost thoughtless as you catch some oxygen back in your lungs. you could feel yourself pulsating around his twitching shaft as waves of pleasure traveled your burning body. his arms loosen of their sensual hold before they catch you, pulling your weary form down to spoon with you momentarily. you can feel each other inhaling. exhaling.

a phone rang. it wasn't yours, you could tell by the ringtone. your eyes flit to see pierce's name on a default iphone screen. "i need a drink." leon exhales roughly, leaning over to kiss the shell of your ear before he reached for the bedside table to grab for his phone. he slipped out of the sheets with his phone on his ear.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

In reference to that one post b/c reblogs got turned off, I’ll be real with you guys, I actually do less research for my DP/DC fics compared to my non-crossover fics for either fandom. Not no research because I can’t help myself, but I realized a long time ago that 99% of this crossover fandom simply will not recognize or appreciate the work.

I’ve been in the DP fandom for a few years now, and I’ve been into DC stuff for even longer. So I know a lot of the characters fairly well (admittedly not all of them b/c there are a shit ton of dc characters), but when I write a DC fic I’ll read whole new comic runs to make sure the characterization is right, when I write a DC/DP crossover I just use whatever version of the character is funniest or fits the vibes best, even if it’s not fully accurate.

A DC fan will complain about mischaracterization while another lauds you on how well you characterized their fave (same character).

A DP fan will complain about made-up non-canon lore not being used.

A DP/DC fan will leave comments like “I love this fic, but I wish X character would have done this completely OOC thing because it would be funny lol”

I’ll defend myself to DP and DC fans but with crossover fans it’s usually not worth it. And they’re usually right. It would be funny.

[dropthedemiurge]

Got prompted by @pinkkop but also partially this might end up as the controversial Thai BL post because the range of characters I'd defend with the passion is very wide for me:D

8 BL BOYS I WILL THROW HANDS FOR

Uea (Bed Friend)

This show isn't jokingly called 'A Tale of 1000 Traumas' for no reason, I mean – there is only so much one young adult can go through, and Uea has been through... well, almost everything. Tagging hurt/comfort fics on AO3 will result into red triggers all around. What fascinates me in this character is his resilience, too. He managed to go through everything with the sheer will power and knowing his own worth, what he deserves and what he does not. I am so glad the show made an active choice to send him to therapy and give him a considerate and loving boyfriend! He really needs both.

Sky (Love in the Air)

Again, no surprise that everyone would want to protect Sky. The acting was also chef's kiss in this show, I know I shouldn't be but I absolutely enjoyed seeing Sky getting triggered and sent to the red-lit room in his mind because this was pure cinematography, but irl I would just hug Sky with consent and never let him go. And kick Gun until he never rises up again too. I think Rain should've been given full freedom to avenge for his best friend. But this is also why I'm writing all these skyrain fics – because they are safe space for each other and I want to keep seeing it.

Rain (Love in the Air)

Ehem, like I said– the show has not declared it loudly but he's one of the most ADHD characters in Thai BLs if I ever saw one. He does not deserve to be mocked for his struggles and airheadness. I wish we saw more of him playing into his strengths beside taming a dom, instead of being infantilized by the show sometimes. Don't ask me to dive into full analysis though, I only could watch the PayuRain half of the show once so I'm going off vibes I remember, but I absolutely adore Rain and love reading fics that focus on his ADHD headcanon and how others understand and help him. And also those platonic BDSM tendencies he has with his best friend Sky.

Kawi (Be My Favorite)

For this guy, I would not fight the show or narration because they treated both characters and viewers with care, gentleness, wise teaching and love (Max is a harsh brat but that's his personality). I would actually fight the fandom: from people who hate-watched this show and refused to acknowledge it was amazingly done further than 'i might've liked it but ew screw this actor and novel the show was inspired by amiright don't judge me for liking it jk lol' to some individuals who missed the beautifully developed and portrayed close bond (aspec on at that, I'll stay firm) that spread across >10 years and different timelines and reduced Kawi to immature whiny weirdo who's scared to fuck Pisaeng ten times a day instead of one, idk. This show is a gem with many life-lessons and Kawi has one of the strongest and fascinating character development in Thai BLs that I've seen. Hands are being thrown.

Boston (Only Friends)

The creators of the show said the series didn't have any intentional message, but considering how many long discussions and poured out frustrations we had with some people, Only Friends definitely did Boston wrong. So what if he's a proud slut, should the show punish him for it while praising 'righteous' characters high on their horses? I don't think so. My guy was constantly filmed illegally and threatened by his hookups and friends, he's very hesitant about falling in love but he tried his best with clearly spoken offers, poly views and limits. I also see Boston kinda neurodivergent and/or demiromantic based on many lines he said about himself and his own view of people and relationships in the series. Nick might not be fully compatible with him, and I would throw hands for both of them, but if those two would communicate better, there would be no need for the OOC "twist" at the end. Their story could be beautiful, sad and realistic, instead Boston being kicked down in the street dirt by everyone after opening up about his heart and fears made me angry.

Akk (The Eclipse)

These descriptions just keep getting longer and longer? Oops... I don't think I need to explain the desire to protect Akk – this guy has not stopped crying since a mischievous and passionate newbie managed to break through his 100m thick wall of composure, pokerface and sheer will to survive. And also through all the manipulation Akk faced from the people he looked up to. Akk and everything that he went through managed to rip my heart out, and I'm not kidding. If you're repressed, oppressed and/or struggling with money, desire to make your parents proud and can't help but feel 'disapproved' feelings for someone – meet Akk, he's very relatable. I'd protect him and you too.

Thua (The Eclipse)

*clears throat* I did say this post would get controversial. I can and I will consider 90% of the people who hate Thua as lacking media literacy :D But without getting into useless fandom discussions, Thua is a poor teenager that needs love and support to be able to find himself and his own voice. He's stressed out by a harsh step-father, constantly facing homophobia and mocking in school, has suicidal intentions and the only good friend who opposed homophobic students and teachers, who showed him safe space and helped reach out to his mother, encouraged him to speak out loudly... went behind everyone's back, started dating the main "bully" of the school who threatened every queer for months and decided to support him while silencing students' and Thua's voices. At least that's what Thua experienced from his POV. Would you throw hands? Thua did, and while I may not agree with how he handled the situation, I can't hate him. He finally stood up for himself and his own, tried to change the system, and I'd fight Suppalo school for him too.

Black (Not Me)

There's someone who doesn't need my protection at all! A second before turning into bloody merciless activist-fighter who doesn't shy away from murdering capitalists and cops, I would still want Black not to think he's better off alone. While antagonistic sexually-tense exchange of comas with his ex-best friend can count as one of the most delicious type of romance that happened in subtext not text, he still deserved to seek solace in his ex-girlfriend and (ex? they were so close, why Gram does not care about him at all when he returns? we'll never know) other activist friend's company. Also, fighting with his life to change something in how the country works and hearing 'nah, your twin is better, he knows how to fight with social media so we achieved more with him than with you' from his mentor and Black deciding that he should again ditch everyone he cares about...noo:( I need spin-off about him where he gets everything he really deserves.

[demonsfate]

This is me quoting my "gatekeeping Jin" post (it's still on my profile if you recognize who I am) by extending it with a few of my thoughts:

"Looks like a lot more people agree with me on this one than I thought.

Long story short: Jin is a good character who is now sadly a wasted potential (because of T6 atrocious OOC writing and what not) and I'm saddened by that. However, the hate and slander against him is getting boring and repetitive to the point where it's annoying and I frankly don't have any more fucks to give. You're free to dislike or hate him, but you won't change the others' persprective on him by saying what he did in T6 for milionth of time as if we don't know that already. Find a better hobby. Get fucking real.

And to my fellow Jin fans: keep strong, comrades. You have my back. ❤️"

But yeah, just adding my two cents to this conversation.

Yeah! I remember ya! Still an epic post.

And very good addition! I should really start ignoring it more, which I do try to... and I did for a while there. But sadly, the reveal of the first four minutes of 8 seemed to... reignite the flames and those people became even more vocal than before. And like, I get it, if you want Jin to not be redeemed or die or you hate his character, whatever. But it's when they start saying the more sillier comments is when it just irks me. I'm talking about the acting like Kazuya is a much better person than Jin, not acknowledging how Tek6 is indeed poorly written, or acknowledging it yet expecting Jin fans to just... accept it rather than continue liking the character for what he was and being critical of Tek6 and wanting to see his original characterization return. It's even more annoying when on my main blog, I make a gif set or post regarding him and I get people who say shit like "Jin deserves [bad things]" or bringing up "Jin started a war!!111!!!" Whilst, luckily, it's only a handful of people who do that on my posts - but stiiiiiiill annoying!!! Like I don't care!!!

I've almost gotten to the point where I just wanna say that I fully endorse Jin's actions in Tekken 6 and that I forgive him solely because he's too pretty to be mad at. BUT that'd be a little too petty and not really worth my time.

But like, that's why I also talk about it a lot here, rather than going to tags, or other posts, or on Reddit. Because there's just no reason for me to argue with people about it since it's really hard to change internet folks' minds, and I don't think most care to. They clearly just bash on him because they've never liked him as a character. So here I have a way of expressing my feelings without getting into pointless online arguments that go nowhere lol

It's always nice to know that even if there's a bunch of people who's annoying about this, at least there's other like-minded fans to understand and discuss the character with. :')

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

Hiiii I’d like to say good job on the match-ups!! They’re fun to read, and it makes me more excited for my turn (assuming my form was properly sent). And Cupid + Eros’s lore?? Very interesting, given their shady Boss and the yandere consequences of their services :0

Also, my apologies if my form was quite extensive. I rarely participate in matchups, so I figured I’d go all out for my first (and probably last) one for Genshin ^^;

At any rate, I honestly don’t know who I’ll get so the results will be interesting. Sending lots of chocolates to Cupid and Eros ^o^

"Afternoon, Cupid," Eros greeted them, watching them enter the room while they worked on the matchups. Cupid yawned and sipped on the boba drink they bought while they were out.

"Afternoon, Eros... What are you doing?"

"Clearing your three page worth of messages."

"... Now?"

"Yes. Now. Seriously, you never do it."

Pausing at a certain message, the duo began to read through what it means, and Eros seems surprised. Blinking a few times, they turned their gaze to a stunned Cupid.

"Hey, Cupid. Look who came after Ana."

"..."

"Cupid?"

"Oh my God— that's Jessamine!" They exclaimed, placing down their drink to grab Eros by the shoulders and shook her. "It's Jessamine Rose! It's Jessamine! She came to see our work at MixMatch!"

"Woah, woah there— you're excited to see her, huh?" Eros teased, seeing that the guest left them something nice.

"Well, let's greet our guest properly, Cupid."

"Yes, let's!"

Putting this on a readmore to rant BAHAHAHAHAHA IM SORRY I SAW THIS AND I WENT "no way."

And this happened (ooc)

(I lost it on a server with my friends and Ansy is like "lol you're more scared of Jessamine than the literal face of Yan content" like YES HELLO???)

HELP I WANTED TO DO MORE BUTHWIDHDIDH I AM SITTING HERE LIKE. OH MY GOD??? YOU JOINED????

I'm having a fangirl moment. Pls. That's so.

I apologize for what I have become but I am also not sorry because this made me SO happy yesterday. I had to do this justice HSIDHDIDJDN

Just. AAAAAAAAAA

IM SO SO HAPPY YOU'RE ENJOYING THE ENTRIES IM 😭 /pos

Cupid + Eros's lore?? Very interesting, given their shady Boss and the yandere consequences of their services :0

Tbh the lore rn is at like the beginning because haha. First week. Not even valentine's. But fr their boss is shady but MAN things are gonna go wild thats uh. That's for sure HAISHEJBS (< thought about putting a deadline at the end of Jan but went "nahhh let's go February"... I'm a dumbass but dw abt it)

And no need to apologize if your form is extensive!! I love reading long answers and it makes me so giddy seeing what people say abt themselves + who they like. I'm happy you joined mine though, and I'm looking forward to see your reaction to your own matchup when I get to it!

Sending lots of chocolates to Cupid and Eros ^o^

Dear God this is why Cupid is on a sugar high and crashed hard (/exag but fr, both enjoyed them HAISBSJEN)

Anyways, so sorry for the long post but!!! Thank you for the ask ;v; I hope you enjoy how badly this matchup can crash and burn with the establishment being SHADY as hell BAHAHAHAHAHA

[figurativepieceoftrash]

Can I ask why you hate Vacation? Don't have to share if you don't want to, I'm just curious.

I wrote Vacation specifically to appeal to fandom trends and create something popular. I noticed that bnha readers tended to gravitate towards ridiculous, non-constructive, low-stakes crack fic with fandom humor, which I personally dislike reading/writing and find quite boring, and decided to attempt regardless bc my work never achieves the kind of engagement I want and I thought the dopamine hits would be fulfilling

Initially the insane stats were really nice! I got maybe thirty comments in the first day of posting (INSANE for my work) and a higher kudos to chapter ratio than I knew what to do with. Big fandom names who had never engaged with my work before were leaving stellar reviews, and I finally felt like something I'd written had a chance of going viral. The only issue was that I felt absolutely nothing for the story I was writing and in many cases outright despised the tropes I'd engaged with

I hate the badass Inko trope, the clueless, incompetent dfo trope, the genius Midoriya Izuku trope, fandomized dadmight, etc. etc. etc. the list goes on, but I'd realized that each of these tropes enable a fic to perform better despite how inherently reductive they tend to be. Which would be fine except that it led me to despise the way I'd portrayed characters I know I'm perfectly capable of liking in the right depictions and thus absolutely loathe writing them

Beyond this crack fic is. Just absolutely, monumentally, most definitely, infinitely and forever Not My Thing™️. Fandom humor relies on warping the characters involved in ways I feel are reductive and sticking them in situations they'd never realistically be in for the sake of a type of tongue in cheek "haha isn't [character a] so smart and wisecracking and [character b] so incompetent?" farce that just in no way appeals to me. Call me a fun killer, but I've always hated ooc comedy imagines and characterizations (the Izuku stealing a dead nighteye's merch/merch hoarding in general, Uraraka being a money-grubbing mizor, Aizawa loving cats/constantly adopting kids, Izuku is snappy and sarcastic and dfo doesn't impact him at all he says so what, etc. etc. I'm sure you can think of many more), incorrect quotes blogs, big bnha blog joke aus taken as canon, etc.

I tend to prefer comedies like Arrested Development, Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and Curb Your Enthusiasm where the humor arises naturally from the characters being the way they were designed to be in natural situations rather than like,,, warped funhouse mirror versions of characters losing or gaining a skull's worth of braincells to adhere to ooc characterizations the fandom collectively deems as funny on some arbitrary, indiscernible basis. I get fandom humor it just doesn't amuse me at all, and honestly I've blocked way too many bnha blogs for constantly shoving it in my face. No hate, it's preference, I just really prefer not to engage with it

Vacation was me shilling out my values and preferences to be popular and it didn't even perform as well as it could've to boot. Frankly writing it was really tiresome and unfun for me and I personally don't vibe with the brand of humor it has at all. It was a slog from start to finish and it was only two chapters long

I'm definitely not judging anyone who likes it, but it probably isn't something I'll ever revisit unless I'm in a REALLY bad place mentally and need writing validation lol

[therestingplaceof]

Deep Below The Sea....

.

Where creatures beyond human comprehension lay..

.

Lives a fractured being, longing to be repaired.

.

.

..

Start Game?

[ Yes ] ◀◀

[ Yes ]

[ Yes ]

// OOC:

Welcome to my main blog! (I also run @karmaisahumanbeing + @idontknowstudios-writes + @himurasmenagerie + @assistantkoji , quite a lot I know..)

This place is entirely taken up by lore around my character "Rev" (he/it), a collective of identities all trying to prove their worth to themselves.

Asks are open! Whether it be to RP or to simply ask questions about Rev, you can do whatever. We're desperate. OCs are welcome, Character RP Blogs are welcome, normal blogs are welcome, ANYONE!!

If you've come to find out more about a specific identity that's contacted you (eg. The Architect, The Jester), I'm sending you to the Character Directory! There, you can find "found artifacts", or mementos/diary entries belonging to specific characters. Underneath is more precise information and character sheets given by the "Seraphim", or the self appointed mod. (via "Seraphim's Voice logs")

If you want to experience the full story of "Rev" through the eyes of an obsessed MC, I recommend you START HERE !! This post is the first of a line of "main story" posts that are intended to be enjoyed in between /or while reading "Artifact" posts.

With that aside, "Waterlogged Scroll" (found through starter post) has a short list of rules there, but for the sake of everyone seeing them:

-no reality checks pretty please :3

-my ask box will not tolerate anything explicit (extreme gore, or anything overtly sexual)

-blog rating should be maintained to be PG-13

-dms are open, but see 1st and 2nd rule for guidelines

-this blog is run by a system. some characters are modded by only one person, some are not.

Navigation:

#daily logs = mild lore stuff, in a daily blogging style

#seraphim's headmate logs = voice log style, character sheets

#(character name) speaks = specific character lore/dialogue

#(character name)'s rp reblogs = rp reblogs organized by character

I'm going to try very hard not to have many other ooc posts other than this one, so if you have any questions you want the me, the mod Yin, to answer then please dm me!

if you have questions you want answered in character, send an ask and please specify which character! Otherwise, I'll probably choose at random lol. (eg. "what's your favourite colour, Jester?" "Do you eat strawberries? (For The Jester)")

Thank you for reading all of that,

signing off,

- Yin.

[bphantom01]

ARC V MONTH DAY 4 - The Merriest Band of Misfits

A/N: Another late post lol srry :P

I wanted to write abt fusion squad, but i have a whole fic dedicated to em already, so i decided to write abt the fusion & sync duos! theyre another 4-person friend group i rlly love, u see :DD

Pairings: Yugo/Rin & Yuri/Serena

Warnings: None. They say a few cuss words but that’s about it, also expect some OOCness like witth the other things I wrote.

Earlier this morning, Yuri had invited her and the Synchro Duo, Yugo and Rin, over to "hang out" as he called it. He said it was about Yuya telling him to get along with other people or something…

—

It was gonna be a weird day for Serena, she could tell.

So here she was, sitting at a coffee shop in an Xyzian mall with Rin, waiting for their respective boys to arrive.

She and Rin surprisingly got along well after the war, as they were the orphans of the bracelet girls — the only two with no family before the war.

Other things were because she and Rin happened to be the most boyish of the girls and that they both grew up having to prove people their worth.

“What could be taking them so long?” Serena randomly asks, breaking her own trail of thoughts.

“Yugo, definitely… He's always late," Rin sighed.

Right when Rin answered, said Yu's finally showed up at the door and walked over to them.

“I apologize for being late, Rin and my dear Serena—”

“Don't-Don't call me that,” Serena interrupted.

But Yuri went on anyway. “—but you see, Yugo-kun here spent too long in the bathroom.”

“You said I had to look my best!” Yugo complained.

“You can style yourself outside.”

“Whatever…”

“Well,” Rin said, sighing, “at least you're both here. But, Serena and I told the waiter twice to wait for you both, you know. So try to be earlier next time.”

“Okay then, Yugo will try,” Yuri said blatantly. “Now can we get some coffee? And a croissant, perhaps?”

“No, I don't wanna stay here any longer. I've had enough of the place.” Serena got up.

Rin soon followed. “So have I. Let’s just go to an arcade or something…”

“Yes! Gaming time! I'm with ya, Rin-Rin!” Yugo cheered.

Yuri gaped. “I haven't eaten anything!”

“That’s your problem, cabbage.” Serena smiled.

“Hmph. Whatever. Just make sure there's lunch later.”

“There will be.” Rin rolled her eyes.

“And you girls will pay?”

“All of us will pay—we’ll divide the bill into four. Now let's leave!”

—

While walking to the arcade, Rin observed the whole of the mall.

With funding and support from Fusion as a form of apology, together with the efforts of many Xyzian people as well as Fusionists who were sent to help instead of being jailed, most of the mall has been restored to its former glory.

There were still some unfinished parts here and there, but overall it seemed to look the way it used to.

“Aww yeah, the arcade!” Yugo yelled, running into the said place with the two other Fusionists.

“Hey, wait up you three!” Rin ran after them.

“Woah,” Serena gasped, looking around to see lots of arcade machines, claw machines, driving simulators, and duel simulators, among others—all with many games and with their lights ablaze. There were a lot of people too, of course.

Ruri wasn't kidding when she said they'd have so much fun.

“Hah! Who knew Xyz'd be this cool,” Yuri exclaimed. “I almost regret being part of the war!”

“Oi, shut your trap, and stop being proud of what you helped cause,” Serena warned.

“I'm with her on that, Yuri,” Yugo added. “Starting a war is not something to be proud of.”

“Guys, I. Don't. Care. Now let's have fun!” Yuri ran off to the nearest duel simulator, also known as a duel terminal, probably.

The other two also bolted to their own destinations—Serena to this "Grand Piano Keys" game thing and Yugo to a claw machine with lots of cute duel monster plushies in them.

Meanwhile, Rin just got there. What's up with them just running off!?

She sighed and just walked to where Yugo was.

“Hey, Rin! I'm gonna try and get you that Melffy Pinny plush!” he blurted, inserting a coin into that thing where you put it in, which started the one-minute timer.

“Oh cool, good luck!”

With intense focus, Yugo moved the claw with the joystick.

The claw is so slow…!

Aaand there, right there above the plush!

He waited until the timer was at one second before pushing the grab button.

“Yes!” he yelled when the claw fell to the plush.

…before frowning as the claw seemingly, ‘couldn't hold onto it.’

“Aw, poor fusion-kun lost,” Yuri teased, seeing Yugo’s utter defeat.

“That's not fairrr!” Yugo shouted, catching the attention of a few Xyzians.

“Hey, look, it's alright, at least you tried!” Rin encouraged. “Keep your voice low, please. And Yuri, shut up.”

Serena walked over to them with a handful of tickets. “So I played some piano game and got a bunch of tickets… What do I do with these?”

“Yuto said you could exchange them for prices,” Rin stated, motioning to the price booth. “The more you have, the bigger a thing you could get, I'd guess.”

“Ooh, to another machine then!” Serena dashed across the place to what Rin could make out to be an Ice Ball game, with Yuri following suit.

“Yugo, you coming?”

The banana-head just stared sorrowfully onto the Pinny plush that lay in the machine. “Y-yeah… In a moment.”

“Uh, okay, then. I'll be with the Fusion duo to make sure they won't cause any trouble,” Rin told him, walking away.

“Okay…”

“I can stay if you want, you know?”

“Oh, no, it's fine,” Yugo assured. “Don't worry, I'll be okay!”

“Hm.” Rin nodded and walked on.

—

“You're doing it all wrong,” Yuri complained. “Put only a little force on it enough to launch it; don't put all your strength into the ball!”

“Hey! Wait for your turn!” Serena retorted. 

“Tsk. Just saying—getting 3 to 5 thousand points is better than getting none at all or an occasional 10k then nothing. Remember, you only have—”

“Nine balls, and at the moment only one left. I know!” Serena interrupted, throw-sliding the ball into the road a little too harshly, it hit the fiberglass with a loud BANG!

‘10 thousand, 10 thousand! Please…!’ she thought.

The ball rolled off to nothing.

“AUUUGHHH!”

Yuri meanwhile laughed beside her. “See? Control your force!”

“SHUT UP!”

“And what's going on with you two?” Rin asked, approaching them.

“Serena never listens,” Yuri mocked.

“And Yuri can't keep his mouth shut,” Serena hissed. “Aha! I was distracted!” She gave Yuri a glare.

He smiled at her in return, but also looked into her eyes.

…they had a staring contest.

“That's enough now, you two,” Rin scolded. She looked around.

Eventually, a certain dancing game caught her eye. “Hey, why don't you both play that dance thing over there, instead?”

Serena usually would rather not dance, but she was losing this contest, and as such, she whipped her head toward Rin so Yuri couldn't see that she blinked. “You know what? You're right.”

She turned back to Yuri. “Yuri, wanna have a dance fight?”

Yuri smiled. “Ah, sure!”

And they left with Rin following them behind, thoughts of whether leaving Yugo was a good idea or not swirling in her mind.

“Look at me, Yuri!” Serena said, and she began the game.

Her swift and graceful movements amused him.

He knew she could dance, but still! He’s never seen her do it with so much passion.

A chuckle escaped him. This little competition is easily won by her… and he couldn’t help but smile as she danced to the beat ever so beautifully.

When the round ended, she got off the small stage and walked to him. “Did ya see that?” She then noticed how he looked at her. “Hm? What’re you grinning for?”

“Nothing. Only,” he laughed, “you’re good—I’ll admit that. And you win for now.”

Serena blushed lightly, not enough for anyone to notice. His compliment also brushed her competitive side away, just for a moment. “Thank… you…? Also, what happened to your condescending attitude?”

“It’s still there, that I assure you. But…”

He looked beyond her—to a kid’s basketball machine.

He saw that the hoop was easily within arm's reach of any teenager their age—meaning they can drop or dip the ball into the hoop with tremendous ease.

And also get a whole bunch of tickets in the process.

He grinned, turning back to Serena. “Rena-kun,” he called to her.

“What do you want?”

Yuri took a deep breath. “I'm gonna ask you a favor.”

Serena laughed at him. “That's new… What is it?”

“I'm surprised you didn't make fun of me, other than that laugh, but why don't we… Cheat the kid's basketball machine?” he asked.

“Hmm… What do I get from it?”

“Let's see… You can have 40% of the tickets.”

“50 and I'll do it.”

Yuri sighed, but he just caved. “Ah, you know what, fine. C'mon.”

From the other side where Rin was playing this remake of Flappy Bird, she stopped playing—which of course made her lose—as their words caught her ears.

She saw them by the kid's basketball machine.

Of course…

When the two got there, a kid was still busy playing.

The poor thing looked back at them, and when he saw Yuri, he froze.

Yuri smirked. “Boo.”

The poor kid squeaked before slowly walking off.

“Oh Ra, you didn't need to do that,” Serena chastised. “Buuut at least we got it to ourselves now, so let's take advantage of that and the kid's tickets.”

For the next few minutes, the two watched amused as the scoreboard's numbers did nothing else but rise almost every second as they both dipped the balls just enough for the sensors to notice.

When they finished, they went for another round, and their number of tickets also kept on increasing.

Rin sighed as she watched them, but her mood brightened when she saw Yugo jogging over to them, the Melffy Pinny plush from earlier clutched in his two hands. “Hey, Rin-Rin!”

“Oh, hi, Yugo!” She laughed as he handed her the plush. “Aww, you didn't have too…”

“But I DID have to!” Yugo insisted, bright blue eyes shining with satisfaction of being able to give Rin the plush.

“Well, thanks, at least.” She gave him an embrace and he gladly returned it.

“Ah, fusion finally got the Melffy, eh?” Yuri said, amused, as Serena continued to dip the ball in the hoop.

Yugo let Rin go and said, “Yeah, so? At least I care for my girl!”

“Serena doesn't deserve me, though,” Yuri said dramatically, making him get kicked by Serena in the shins in the process.

“Can't you be not annoying for once? And you’re the one who doesn’t deserve me.”

“I'm always gonna be annoying—and you all have to put up with it…” Yuri uttered as he clutched his leg. “And you did NOT have to hit me that hard…! What if you broke my leg!?”

He went on whining on the floor, which caught a bunch of people's attention. “It hurts!”

“Oh Ra…” Serena shook her head.

And, together with the synchro duo, they yelled, “Get up!”

“Gee, fine. I'm serious, though—it really, really hurts. Can one of you guys get ice or something cold that won't melt for me, please?” he begged, leaning to a wall.

“I'll fuckin’ do it.” Serena rolled her eyes. “I'll be right back.”

While Yuri sat on a bench to wait for Serena to come back, Yugo and Rin allowed themselves to enjoy the whole arcade without the Fusion Duo having an argument behind their backs.

Both of ‘em went on to play some 2-player shooting games where they shot some mechanical aliens to save some ship before going to play the classic Whac-A-Mole game.

“Yugo, stay focused!” Rin yelled. “You can do it!”

“I'm trying, Rin, but these moles are just. So fast!” Yugo shivered as he tried to pour all his focus into this one game, but he still somehow kept missing.

He didn't hit much, but they got tickets nonetheless, so he took those.

“Can I try?” Rin asks.

“Oh, sure.”

“Thanks!” Rin took the little foam mallet and started the game.

Whack!

Oh wow, this was rather easy.

Whack! Whack!

How could Yugo be bad at this!?

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“Woah, Rin, you're a natural!” Yugo complimented. “I'll help! I'll whack those you can't with my hands!"

“Wait, Yugo, I'm fine—”

And with her focus a bit deterred, she and Yugo went for this one common target, making her hit Yugo's hand a bit too hard.

“YyyyOUCH!” he exclaimed. The pain hurt so much, it got him kneeling to the floor groaning in pain, much like what Yuri did earlier, but a bit louder and without the laying down part.

She gasped at that. “Oh, you idiot! I told you to—! Sigh, you know what, just go sit with Yuri; I'll tell Serena to get more ice…”

After a good while, Serena finally arrived with two glass bottles of cold ketchup.

“What—why'd you get that!?” Rin yelled at Serena in disbelief.

“It was the only thing I could think of!”

“You could've just, I dunno, gotten some ice bags?! And ice??”

“Actually, I thought not to do that. Plus, we can at least use the ketchup for later, bring it home or something, you know? Maybe we could give one of ‘em to the boys.”

Rin doesn't know how many times she sighed now, but she sighed anyway.

After they gave the bottle to the boys—and Serena getting another scolding from Yuri for getting ketchup—they all decided to make Yugo and Rin race through a driving simulator.

“Rin, you can do this!” Serena cheered. “Good luck, and win! YuriandIhadabetandmywalletsdependingonyousoyeahpleasewin,” she went on with the last part quickly.

“What?”

“Break a leg—but not literally.” Serena smiled.

“Oh, alright. Thanks!”

And with le boys…

“Yugo, please win. Serena and I had a bet, and if you lose, I'm not just losing money, I'm also gonna have to dye my hair brown for a week! Can you believe that?”

The banana-head raised a brow. “How's that my problem? I'd honestly love to see how you'd look with brown hair. Also, you agreed to it, not me.”

But anyway, the Synchro Duo chose their D-wheels and started.

3… Rin gripped her handle tighter.

2… Yugo smiled, getting ready.

1… They both held breaths, then,

GO!! The words appeared on the screen.

And instantly, Rin and Yugo revved their motorcycle sims and felt it "move" forward.

The screen then showed them and several NPCs racing through.

“Wooo! Go, Rin!”

“Fusion! You better do this, because I'm cheering for you for once, can you believe that!? So don't you dare waste it!”

Vrooooooooooom!

The sounds came from the speakers with the machine, and the screen showed several terrain — cliff sides, cities, a bridge and even a concrete loop-the-loop.

“Woah!” Rin exclaimed, as she almost fell off.

“Haha! Now we see who's the better driver!” Yugo teased, laughing.

“Oh, you'll see who's better!” Rin 'violently pushed him off' the loop.

“Eek!” He landed rather safely, but it was still a bit uh, traumatizing.

“Yugo, you're gonna make my hair brown!” Yuri warned, clutching his (not Yugo's) head.

“I know! Calm down, I can still beat her.”

“You better!”

Serena laughed at them. “Please, Rin’s clearly winning.”

“Yeah, Yugo, how do you plan to beat me!?” Rin teased, a glint of slyness in her orange eyes.

Yugo's eyes trailed to their front.

Rin already used hers earlier, but he didn't yet—that “Turbo Speed Acceleration” kind of thing.

Rin's was still refilling, but his was full.

Meanwhile, they both neared the finish line.

“Like in a duel, Rin, my luck never fails me.”

Rin dropped her grin at that.

And Yugo took the pleasure of grinning this time. “I activate my ‘Action Magic’, Acceleration!” He triumphantly pressed the button.

“Nooo!” Rin and Serena shouted.

“Yes!” The boys cheered.

And in an instant, Yugo sped up right by Rin and reached the finish first.

“OHHH YEAHHH, WOOOO!” Yugo shouted, dismounting the runner. “I BEAT RIN FOR ONCE!”

He and Yuri fist-bumped and hi-fived each other with both hands and did the back-hit thing in those 'secret handshake' things.

“NO BROWN HAIIRRR!” Yuri yelled, making people turn to him.

“I BEAT RINNN!” Yugo exclaimed. He was so happy, he could feel the excitement running through his veins, and he ran to Rin who just got off, and they both almost stumbled to the ground.

“Woah, hey,” Rin warned. “We almost fell.”

“I'm sorry, it's just… You always beat me and—”

“Yes, yes, I'm happy for you too.” She chuckled. “You beat me—that surprised us both, and them, too, probably.”

“Yeah, a new achievement, hehe,” Yugo giggled with a :P face.

Rin smiled proudly and kissed him on the cheek. “So cute.”

He metaphorically melted into a puddle at that. “Hehe, hehe,” he kept saying, “Hehe…”

“Now it's my turn to say, ‘That's enough you two,’” Serena said, handing Yuri a few yen.

“No brown hair,” Yuri stated casually.

“Stop, I get it already—and it's getting weirder by the minute,” Serena growled.

“Well, what’re we doing next?” Rin asked.

“That kid right there! We weren't sure what he was doing at first, but we just figured out he was hacking into the claw machine!” an officer yelled in their direction.

“Hm?” Yuri turned to the guard and saw he was pointing to Yugo. “Aw, fusion got caught.”

Yugo instantly stood up. “Let's get outta here!” he squealed.

“We should,” Serena agreed, running off.

“Guys, agai—?” Rin was broken off by the boys going off, with Yugo dragging her arm away. “Yuuugo! What did you do!?”

“Sorry! I had to get the plushie, but the machine wasn't being fair!”

“Pretty smart, though!” Serena complimented, running backwards. “If I knew how to hack, I would've done the same thing.”

“But you don't,” Yuri once again teased.

She jumped on him and they wrestled. “I've wanted to do this since earlier!” Making Yuri go “OOF—!” with surprise.

“Oh, you think it's only you?” He fought back.

“Guys!” Rin grumbled. “Right now!?”

She and Yugo had to drag their own counterparts away from each other and out of the place until they both calmed down.

The rest of the day went by with lots of fun.

There was lunch at an Xyzian Burgery Shun recommended, then a walk in the park which included its own set of activities, laser tag, pizza, and a few other things.

Yeah… It was really nice.

The day ended when the two groups parted when they all went back to Pendulum, saying their good-byes to each other and leaving. To go to their own new respective homes.

[tizzymcwizzy]

I've read through what a few others have said and I hope you dont mind someone else chiming in as well-- It started out as a comment reply on the post but it got too long ;;

Alongside being a retelling, Stampede, or at least S1, is technically a kinda-sorta prequel sort of situation, since the final event of Stampede is something that happens before the main story of '98 and the manga.

The characterisation in Stampede isn't exactly inaccurate to the manga per se, but since it is a retelling that recontextualises and restructures a ton, it's definitely not 1:1. But for that matter the 1998 anime is also not 1:1 with characterisation, and I'd argue that it's just a bit farther off due to some of the comedy choices that were made, which were rather OOC in comparison to the manga, and also because of some of the plot changes due to the manga not being finished, as you previously mentioned.

Many of the more serious themes present in the manga also come through much stronger in Stampede, so far, than in 1998 despite the greater deviance from the manga's plot right off the bat. But I would say the first part of the manga is a lot easier to read through if you've watched 1998 first, since beat-for-beat, there's generally more similarities between the two, which makes sparsing out what's happening less of a task. The manga's pacing however, imo, is actually more similar to Stampede's (fast, a lot happening) ironically. 1998 has a lot of filler very early on which makes it the odd one out in terms of pacing.

The manga is definitely darker than the 1998 anime, and Stampede seems to, so far at least, not be shying away from those darker elements. While there is some of the same fun in the first portion of the manga as in 1998, the latter portion is very much a seinen, and Nightow takes full advantage of the ability to explore more mature themes that being under this demographic label offers.

Also, as a side note, some of the production team for Stampede actually hadn't watched the 1998 anime prior to making Stampede, and had only read the manga, which is part of why there's such a stark tonal difference between the two anime specifically. It's very hard to pit them against each other in any definitive way, so I definitely second that it's worth experiencing each iteration!

YEAH!!! i really appreciate it this!!!! yeah, i know fuck all about what the manga has and doesn't have cause ive been trying to avoid as many spoilers as i can for it so this is really helpful, i didn't know that the characterization is so different within 98 and the manga, that's gonna be fun to explore lol, also that the tone was pretty different! i know trigun is lighter than trigun maximum so im also interested to see how that plays out

and also yes! i do know stampede is a prequel, retelling, sorta thing,, it just rolls over a lot of the character introductions and like, early storybeats within it's prequel to the main storyline while also including flashbacks and shit that happen later in the 98 anime so it's confusing to classify

thanks so much for your input! i really appreciate it cause i have no clue abt this stuff, again, haven't read the manga yet :)

[lusttoke]

@ ky why you unfollowed?

[*] please remember you can still send asks if you wish even if we are not mutuals as long as you're not minor not racist not pedo in both ooc & ic.

i don't have to explain to each one why I unfollowed but here's a list of possible reasons you pick what makes you happy:

[x] i changed my rules. i used to be fine when people tag some gross content but not anymore. due bad experience with some i'll just respectfully soft block so we both unfollow each other. if you still wanna follow my blog feel free it's just some content i'd like not to see on my dash n im tired following up with each blog gross list tags.

[x] i hate any type of including a minor/teen in a sexual content.. even if they are not in a sexual content i fukin' hate teen muses anyway. call me a hater i just don't wanna see them.

[x] im strongly against people writing characters that are racist pedophiles homophobes etc etc.. your character being a survivor of such stuff in their back story is fine.. but your character committing such shit in rp is nope for me.

[x] I lose interest in our interactions. When people lose interest to write with me I rather they unfollow me than force themselves to write with me just because we're old mutual. so when I feel that you or me lose the interest to interact i'll just respectfully unfollow or block/unblock. it's not your job to entertain me and it's not my job to entertain you so if one of us is not having fun it's not worth it.

[x] your replies are weird to me. honestly my writing is so simple it's even trash but at least i try to make my character's actions /words clear for you to interact with them. some people's replies are so unrelated to what my muse said or did like as if they're answering another thread. im not saying im a good writer nope the opposite i just don't understand your writing sometimes and i'll save us both the awkwardness if that is repeated in few threads i'll just unfollow.

[x] you don't give me much to work with. rp is like catch ball. you have to throw and receive. I cant keep throwing the ball at you every time and your character is too passive in their response. so unless it's an ending of a thread your character gotta do /say something for my character to react otherwise your character can stay in their own world and i'll unfollow lol.

[x] ooc drama/ demanding replies / crossing ooc boundaries / talkin' shit about another mun i rp with.. etc im not a good person im trash in both person and in my writing. i enjoy writing though and i wanna be respectful and chill with people but some people are not chill.. i wont keep up with that. I'll unfollow if I feel uncomfortable with you. (people who are allowed to personally harass me are tala and sila lolol) anyone else you have to respect some boundaries with me.

[x] Thoughts about quitting rp. instead of deleting the blog i decided to keep it for the sake of the very few people who i love writing with. but will keep inbox open for non-mutual asks if they want to.

that being said I hope you find your reasons within the list if you been so obsessed of knowing why. again i aint a good person im trash but i try to have fun.

After this post im starting a new page and leaving this topic behind me. don't come ask me again about it i wont hesitate to block.

please keep eye on my rules before interacting.

with all love and respect ky

[xxscarletxrosexx]

The Art of Seduction - Chapter 2: Charmed

Chapter Summary:

Loid had once overheard Yor confiding with her coworkers that she had never had any experiences with any man, at least romantically. But Yor never once said she had (somewhat) successfully seduced her senior, Mirage, during a practice run for a premeditated assassination.

aka

- Klaus needs to go to get bonked and sent to h**ny jail

- Yor was caught with a premeditated vendetta

- Twilight/Loid Forger can't parse Yor Briar Forger no matter what she does

- TwiYor should have more domesticated fluff moments

Read it here:

AO3 | Fanfiction.net | DeviantArt

A/N:

I'd like to give a shout-out to... @fluffmelange: for your creative input and inspiration. Also, for identifying my grammar during VC xD @lizzisgeek: For advising me on Loid/Twilights's character and behavior and steering me away from OOC. @undercoversleepover: For being encouraging, patient, and supportive every time I cried in VC about why I kept torturing myself with more ideas when I wanted this chapter to be shorter than it was supposed to--but hey, I finally did it!! @taser-dude : For literally (art) WIP-ing me in shape. Thank you for inspiring me with your art WIPs of future TAoS chapters--but I swear to God I'm trying to catch up TwT To my best friend John for his impressive knowledge of firearms. I was genuinely shook that he recognized Sylvia's gun so quickly.

The original plan was to write about Yor's flashback > Loid seeing Yor > Good night. I had estimated it to be around 2,500 words, but here we are at 5,000+ words because I couldn't resist writing about Sylvia (can you imagine how happy I was when Endo-san posted a Sylvia-centered chapter?! It felt like a good omen!) and mentioning Yuri too. Also, I poured a bit more TwiYor moments in this fic to balance the attention Klaus got lol Also, the main reasons why this fic took a long time were: (1) I had rewritten Loid's mission 3 times. The first was a bit OOC (and re-written with @lizzisgeek's guidance and suggestion) and the second rewrite disrupted the pacing of the plot, so I ended up scrapping it for this chapter, but it will be recycled in a future chapter. (2) The plot bunnies wouldn't shut up, but I have no qualms with it. (3) The extensive research I put into firearms, fashion wear, and character analyses was long but we made it guys and gals!

The next chapter may take up to a month again since I will be occupied with my thesis research project and will be biting the bullet to submit the report. I'm hoping to graduate with my master's degree come mid-May! Hopefully, I can be called Professor Scarlet soon :^3 Thank you for reading! ^^

Fic Summary:

There was a subtle change in the air that Loid Forger sensed around Yor since reuniting with her childhood friend, Klaus Kraus. Her form seemed straighter and she carried herself more confidently which heavily contrasted with her usual negative sense of worth. She was more attractive, bold even. He didn't know what to make of these changes. What he did know was he didn't like the idea of someone holding his wife in such an intimate way.