#pick a side or get out you spineless fucks

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

not to get into discourse mode on here but the recent shit w/ ao3 being once again called out for being run by racists/genocide supporters and seeing so many fucking Absolute Gormless Shitheads blindly defend OTW and going " dOn'T bRiNg FiCtIoNaL PoLiTicS iNtO tHis!!!111!1 " as if they are not immune to propaganda is wild . my siblings in sin , ao3 is literally The Racism Fetish Fanfiction site , and propaganda via fictional work is exactly how racism perpetuates. ao3 and the otw are a part of the problem whether you choose to acknowledge it or not because they contribute to the cycle of violence , fetishisation and colonisation of marginalised groups via complacency (and sometimes even blatant PASSIVE ENCOURAGEMENT) , and then they cover it up by using soft cutesy buzzwords like " anti-censorship " and " free speech " and their dumb ass complex tagging system to appeal to white people , so when Actual Minorities and people affected by the shit they put on there speak up about it they're met with all kinds of bullcrap about "jUsT bLoCk ThE tAg If It'S a PrObLem1111!111" or "YoU'rE jUsT bEiNg a fAnDoM cOp!11!!"

You're a part of the problem if you support ao3 and actively continue to use it & donate to them , especially in the wake of the OTW being actively chockful of zionists who will , ironically , silence those who speak up and rally with Palestine for liberation . And If you decide to take this as me being hostile towards you or trying to " bring fiction into real world issues " , remember that at Any point in time you can go on ao3 for yourself and find thousands and thousands of raceplay fics and other various works that glorify and condone racism , and that the otw and their large userbase (primarily composed of white people!) has a track record of trying to shut up POC when this issue is brought to light .

Idgaf if ao3 is for " anti-censorship " , because there's a difference between anti-censorship and HIDING BEHIND the concept of free speech and the 1st amendment to do and say awful , horrendous things and believe you're above critique , punishment or consequences for it .

tl;dr: fuck ao3, fuck the otw, free palestine, and most importantly: you are NOT and will NEVER be immune to propaganda if you choose to ignore it because it benefits you.

[nikki0606]

the letter | Hawks X Reader

oneshot; (wrote it some 3 yrs ago and edited the narration here)

(it was a result for a "write a letter to mha characters" quiz of mine)

.

"Calm down, will you?" Tokoyami says over the phone, "I can not believe it's me of all people who needs to console you."

"Well, it was your idea." you pace your room in stress.

"It was dark shadow's idea." Tokoyami doesn't sound happy at your accusation, "I even warned you against trusting him just like that. His maturity level is down in the drain. That all put aside, I really do think you should relax. Definitely, sensei wouldn't hate you."

"He wouldn't hate me?" you frown and take a deep inhale, "I wrote that guy a love letter and we left it in his office, Tokyo!"

"I do not see how that should make him hate you.. " Tokoyami sounds confused, "Hawks sensei has quite a following, it would only be normal to him if you ended up having feelings for him too. Relax, it's no big deal."

"Oh my God." you clutch your head, "Is this how you're consoling me? I don't know what to do– is there a chance he wouldn't have seen it? I really just want to bring the letter back now."

"Wow." Dark shadow's voice sounds, "That's really spineless of you," you gasp at that, "relax, (Name)-chan. Everything's gonna be fine. If Hawks sensei ignores you, I'll fight him for you."

You pause, "Ignores? You know what, I'll call you and Dark Shadow back later, Tokyo. The both of you are only increasing my anxiety."

"Okay." Tokoyami sighs, "And stop calling me Tokyo."

"No." you hang up right after.

Continuing to pace in the room, you begin to prepare yourself for the worse. It's true Hawks could just ignore you if he gets uncomfortable with the whole thing. If not that, he could just reject your feelings.

After all, he does get thousands of letters per day (though none are found at his table top in his office) and like Tokoyami said, it would be only normal for him to have a little girl crush on him.

You're two weeks away from your birthday and do not at all wish to be crying over his rejection on the day you turn eighteen. 

"It's alright." you try to console yourself, "There's a lot more beauty in this world to cry over just one guy." but it's easier said than done.

No matter how true your words are, they do nothing to ease the way your throat suffocates in anxiety."

Your phone buzzes with notifications on the side and you pick it up to distract yourself with whatever they're from only to find an unknown number having texted you.

__________________________

XXXXXXX

heyy

you really thought you'd 

send him a letter and BOOM

he's into you, huh

haha, bitch

stop daydreaming

look at this 

seriously

stop embarrassing yourself

there's other important ppl

in his life

__________________________

Your brain processes the texts way too slow. Once it does, however, you feel something in your heart shatter.

A picture of Hawks blushing and another of him covering his face combined with the texts you've received explain a lot. 

There's other important people in his life.

It makes sense– you don't know much about his person life. You only know Hawks the hero not the person who he is away from the limelight.

It makes sense, absolute sense, but it hurts. 

"It's okay." you mumble futile and empty words to yourself, one hand making way to your chest and rubbing it hard. The ache lying within overpowers even the peak of control you can exert over yourself.

A tear rolls down your cheek. At this point, you don't even know what else you were expecting.

"I am just another fangirl." you tell yourself, "It's alright. That's what happens, I'm no one special– I barely know about his personal life."

A ding brings in new messages from the same number.

__________________________

XXXXXXX

we've got some things to settle

fifteen minutes from now

on your dorm roof

lets fight

YOU

lets please talk it out

it's nothing serious

I guess I'm just a fangirl

XXXXXXX

ask me if I give a fuck

__________________________

It hurts you to reply this way but this is just the truth.

But how can someone enter U.A.? I don't think non pro heroes would be allowed to enter.

And this thought leads to the rather painful realization that the person texting you might just be Mirko, you know Hawks is good friends with her so there could always be things between them that you aren't aware of.

It's just best to go and talk to her and clear out any misunderstandings. Who knows what sort of ruckus might follow.

You violently rub your teary eyes and swallow hard, "Well then."

There's no one on the roof when you reach there. With a sigh, you walk over to the boundary and lean against it taking in the view of the night at your school.

The suffocating weight on your chest remains constant but the worry about what Hawks would think of you beats it.

It hurts to remember how seriously you had written the letter and poured all of your ehart into it. Now, you only feel like an idiot.

Why the fuck did I even think this was okay?

If you could, you'd make everything go back to before you'd written it. All the worry, all the nervousness and this painful rejection-- you sigh.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

You haven't paid attention to the view until now. At once, you blink focusing your gaze in front. A small smile rises up your face, "It's beautiful." and then you pause.

"You didn't even notice me sneaking up to you." the way too familiar from the snort makes a tsunami of heat crash against your body, you snap your head to where Hawks is leaned to the boundary by your side.

"Hawks." your jaw falls a mile below.

"Yup." he smiled, "I had to come, didn't I?"

On reflex, you look around to see if someone else has come with him but not another soul is around.

"You're.. " you swallow hard, a mountain of shame settling in your face, "Uhm... well.. "

Hawks hums, his face turned towards the school building in view, "I thought I'd just talk to you face to face. I was on my way to Musutafu anyways."

"O-Oh.. ?"

"So you wrote me a letter." there's the tiniest bit of tease in his voice, "You think I'm handsome, eh, (Name)-chan? Boy, I did not know that."

Your face falls into your hands. You wish the earth would swallow you whole.

"Well," he hums a moment later, "I sort of saw the letter in front of Mirko and she urged we should prank you so she took those pictures of me while I was reading the letter. I don't know what she's texted you though. She said you'd be happy to see me in person."

It takes you a while to process the thing about the pictures.

You don't have it inside you to face him anymore but the relief you feel on knowing this was a pranks expresses itself as a sharp exhale.

Hawks' face turns to you again, a sly smirk rising to his face, "You weren't getting jealous, were you? Ahh, I really want to see a jealous (Name)-chan. Your little crush on me makes this so much easier."

With great difficulty, you manage to separate your face and hands and try to lift your head.

"Oh right," Hawks snorts, "it's not a crush, it's love."

"Come on." you whine, turning your face away.

Hawks laughs, "You're adorable, (Name)-chan. Don't you worry, you'll still be on my priority list of little girls crushing on me."

"Look at how proud you are about that." you roll your eyes hysterically, "Shameless chicken."

"Aw, don't you think being mean to me makes me not want to hang out with you?" he dramatizes, "I thought we get careful when we get a puppy crush."

You're honestly just glad he isn't hating or getting creeped out by you.

"You were on your way to Musutafu?" you try to change the topic, "For what?"

Hawks hums a little, his gaze focused on the distantly visible city, "Say, (Name)-chan. You're of age, right? Your birthday was three months ago so you should be eighteen already."

"I am, yeah." your gaze rests on him for a bit- Hawks looks beautiful in the low night light.

He turns to you, "I was coming to Musutafu for this date I have to be on. I realized I should confirm your age outside the school. Nezu looked pretty relaxed when I said I want to visit you so that was relieving."

You blink, "I'm sorry?" there's a darker shade settling on his face now that you focus.

"Takami Keigo." he hums, "That's my real name."

The sudden revelation takes you by surprise, "Oh? I.. wow. That's a nice name."

"Of course," he snorts though there is now something adorably nervous to his voice, "your crush on me makes everything about me nice."

"Other than your personality, yes." you pout, "Look at you insensitively teasing me. Are you wishing to see me cry later?"

"Ne ne, (Name)-chan, you really think I'd let you cry?" he turns you towards himself.

You blink, "H-Huh?"

Hawks smiles nervously, "D'you.. you know.. want to go out with me tonight?"

It takes an eternity for your brain to process it. Once you do, your jaw drop in shock only to tug upwards immediately into a smile.

"What? What.. seriously?"

"Of course." his hand rubs the back of his head, Hawks looks embarrassed, "I-I mean.. it's not important that your crush is one sided.. "

"You like me?" you don't remember when the last time you'd been filled with such pure thrill was. You're basically jumping on your feet.

"If you're going to behave like this, how do you expect me not to?" he pouts and speaks in a small voice.

"Wow." your gaze locks into his, "That's just... "

"Sweet?" his hand boops your nose, "It is. But anyways, should we?" he holds his hand out.

You're about to put your hand onto his put pause, "Has Aizawa sensei allowed you to take me out." you pause, "Shit, I'm not even dressed right." and you continue to freak out more in happiness than in worry.

Hawks chuckles, "You're being pretty reasonable for someone who gets to be with the sexy hot number two." and the sassy reply he expects doesn't come.

You wrap your hands around him instead, "I am."

A gush of red burns his cheeks, Hawks lips part, "Wh-Whoa.. okay." his eyebrows jerk, and his head turns to the side now radiating with heat.

"Shit." you step away from him, "I'm not making you uncomfortable or something, am I?"

"Not at all." Hawks's eyes lock into yours, "That's.. actually leave the date. Let's go to your room and watch a movie or something."

"Boys aren't allowed in our side of the dorm." you make a sad face.

"I'm a man if you haven't noticed." he frowns, "Take me down there, I'll make sure you never miss my manliness again."

Your eyes widen and avert to the side and a buzz rises up your skin. Hawks looks pretty dead set with his little tease and is happy to see the reaction he was expecting.

It's risky sneaking Hawks inside so he sends in a feather first. Thankfully, there's no one in the hallways at this hour.

You let Hawks inside first and enter after securing the area. Little do you realize you've pushed him right into the one wall full of posters of him. You thank yourself for not having pasted hearts or something of the sort around.

"Looks like you have a major crush on this pro hero Hawks." he looks smug but the warm red tint of his ears adds more to the story, "That's so cute."

Your cheeks flare up, "W-Well.. th-there's nothing to hide anymore.. I guess."

Hawks hums, "You'll be knowing me as Keigo no onwards." he leans forward and pulls a poster down, crushes it and throw it to the side.

"What are you doing?" you frown in confusion.

"There's a lot of other things you need space to stick on the walls." he says, "Things about Takami Keigo and not Hawks," a teasing smirk rises up his face again, "and then you can continue to thirst over a sexier side of your hero crush."

You pout and turn away, face now warming up the air all around, "You're so mean, Hawks." there's a silence, "K-Keigo-san.. "

"Good girl." he hums, making all hair on your body rise on their ends, "Try it less formal."

You swallow, "Keigo-kun.. ?"

"Yeah." his hand strokes your cheek, you feel your legs getting weak, "That's more like it, babybird."

"You're literally so mean." your gaze averts to the ground, "Coming all the way here just to tease me.. "

"And maybe also to see you get excited like a little kid when I say it's mutual." he winks, then plops onto your bed, rubbing his face into the pillow.

The thing about the number two pro hero is that the confidence seeps out of all pores in his body. Even if he is shy and nervous, Hawks would unapologetically spread around knowing it would not at all change anything about your feelings for him unless it makes them more intense.

He knows that because he has seen the expression on your face when the two of you would mess around and do weird stuff to annoy Tokoyami (although it was mostly you).

Hawks would have a bigger hand in verbal teasing.

"S-So... " you fiddle with your fingers, cheeks heating up more at the thought of his scent settling onto your sheets. Hawks turns to you.

"Movie?"

"I-If you want to."

"Or maybe we could just.. you know," he playfully winks.

You freeze momentarily, "What... ?"

Hawks snorts, his hand taking his visors and ruffling his hair. He beckons you to come sit with him while taking his shoes and jacket off.

You now find it hard to not stare at his torso.

"Should we have a photoshoot?" he turns to you, eyes full of adoration.

It's too bad that your dirty mind is not able to process anything rationally on being exposed to his biceps now. And it just so happens that you and Hawks are awfully comfortable with teasing and insults on being friends for so long (all thanks to Tokoyami).

That is why the words slip out of your mouth before you can realise, "If you strip, yes."

Hawks blinks, his ears visibly getting a hot shade of red but expressions forced to remain straight, "You really have some wild fantasies about me, babygirl. Tokoyami told me all of them."

You blink, "What?"

He smiles cheekily, "If I strip, you'll lose your head."

"No- Tokoyami did what?"

"Told me some stuff." he hums, "Told me I should get a spine to propose to you but then boom, you send the letter and it gets easier for me."

"He knew you liked me back?"

"Of course he did." Hawks pushes his boots to the side with his foot, "Don't you go getting mad at him," his hands plant on your hips, cheeks blooming red, "this is my payment for this request."

In another second, you're sitting in his lap.

"So, photoshoot." he clears his throat, unable to properly talk now that your body is pressed against his with your adorable eyes looking up at him in shock and embarrassment, "I-I'll use my phone."

[thiccpersonality]

Damian (Gremlin) Wayne...and his even more gremlin-esque family

A newly introduced Damian sits in Bruce's Bat-chair, observing his new "siblings" with judgmental eyes. His emerald green ones rolling into the back of his head at the ex-carny babying him: "Look you fool, I shall let you know right now that your efforts to entertain me like I'm some child will prove fruitless. Whatever I have done to make you think I'm approachable, forgive me, because I already hate you."

Richard's smile slowly fades and he clears his throat. His medium blue eyes narrowing into a suspicious glare, his lips forming a tight lipped smile: "Right down to business I see? I'll have you know that you may be the baby, but I was Bruce's first one. Whatever title you held before doesn't matter now...in fact, I would suggest you get rid of it before someone helps you get rid of it."

Damian scoffs and picks at his nails, swiveling side to side in HIS father's chair: "Worried about the competition already? As expected from a weak-willed and spineless peasant such as yourself. I suggest whatever title you held before-" his green eyes rake up and down Richard's lithe form like a predator with it's prey-"Which from your disposition I would say you are the favorite-ah! Or I should say EX favorite."

Jason grunts from where he's punching at a dummy: "Look you little shit. All we did was exist-"

Damian: "Then stop."

Jason: *stops punching to glare at the small fry* "Ex-fucking-cuse me? I already un-existed before, I am NOT doing that again. And drop the attitude before I drop kick you back to your mother."

Damian: "How cute. It's like a puppy learning to bark for the first time. I can already tell you are desperate for my father's attention like a dehydrated ma-"

Jason: *cocks his gun and points it at Damian* "Did no one tell you along the way here that I don't mind killing for Bruce? Would've tried to get rid of Bozo the Clown over there if I knew I could get away with it. And then I'd shoot Bruce myself."

Tim looks up from his tablet with a sigh: "Trying to kill another bird I see? I guess I wasn't enough for you?"

Jason: "That was due to my pit induced rage. I had no control over that-" gestures towards Damian-"But this overly confident little bitch is a choice."

Tim raises his hands in defeat: "Just saying that you shouldn't threaten the new one so soon. Plus...I'm the smart one, Bruce needs me more than all of you combined. And I know everyone's weaknesses well, do you really want to test me?"

Damian sighs and finally hops down from the chair: "Childs play. My mother has made sure I knew everything from acrobatics to knowledge of cultures, religions, languages, books and other things you plebeians would surely combust from the brains it takes to memorize such things. She made sure I had it all so I can replace all of you. And father will be mine and mine alone."

Richard plasters a friendly smile back on his face: "Seems like the one spot she missed was etiquette. Don't worry kid, I'll be happy to show you the way things work around here."

Before the argument can get further out of hand, a clearing of the throat stops the four boys. They quickly turn to see Alfred standing at the bottom of the cave steps with a tray full of cookies.

Polished shoes click across the cave floors unhurriedly, the older gentleman quietly serving the boys their cookies and turning to leave. Not before clearing his throat once again and turning to give the four boys stern looks.

Alfred: "All this bickering is pointless. You all are now family and I hope you lot will act like it. Master Bruce is already making arrangements for your schooling young master Damian, and he expects a somewhat peaceful dinner tonight."

The older man can't help the small smirk he gives, one that is confident and self-assured. "Plus, as long as I am here, there is NOT much competition. You may be his first child master Richard, but I am his first partner in anything he's done. I do hope from here on out you ALL will remember your places. Good day."

The four boys frown at the authority radiating from the usually calm butler.

Damian clicks his tongue and slinks into the shadows while silently plotting his new victims demise.

(Hello everyone! I write fics on AO3 by the same name, Thicc_Personality. I'm sorry this is my first post and it's nothing but chaos, threats and crack...they truly (do) care for each other, they just don't know it atm XD. But I am a sucker for gremlin bat family and an oblivious Bruce to the very obvious competition. That or he lets it slide so easily (especially for Damian) cause he thinks his baby son is the cutest thing ever. If anyone manages to see this...well, I hope there was some enjoyment found here xD. Stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💜)

[datmoongamer]

Some thoughts about my fascist Harry playthrough so far

TL;DR Microdosed fascism, fascist Harry is more interesting than moralist Harry, this is my third playthrough so I built for int/mot and made him more confident, logical, and authoritative.

I am... having a lot of fun on my fascist playthrough, third playthrough overall. First one was moralist, second one was a hardcore communist one that I haven't finished yet.

Playing Harry as someone who believes that a strong leader could return Revachol to its former glory. How the leader would go about doing it, he's not sure, he's just a random guy trying to do some good in the world. He's also not sure who the ex-something is, but he knows she's a she, and that she burned him bad, so he's bitter about women but not stupid enough to voice his thoughts aloud. 'Sides, inceldom seems like the natural course of action for him.

Can't go through with being racist, so I microdosed fascism. Said anti-communist stuff when it seemed acceptable, preached about the glory of Revachol, but I went for the "very cool but I have some questions about the murder case" option whenever race/immigration came up and (so far) dodged all the conversations about sex/gender/women.

High int and mot. I made him calculating, able to pick up on inconsistencies in people's statements. I miss the more esoteric skills and I miss hearing Volition yap at me, but the int and mot skills make up for Volition's silence. He can think his way out of most situations that would otherwise require Volition to wrangle the phy skills.

Superstar for fun but knows when to be the boring, serious cop. The superstar thing is a mindset he adopted to avoid spiraling entirely into despair. If he jazzes himself up this hard, he doesn't feel as bad about himself.

Rene is the only bearable fascist (so far, haven't reached Lena's racism deep lore yet or met Gary and his buddy). Measurehead and the Racist Lorry Driver are just... man. They're pieces of work. Rene says things like "Revachol is a shithole... good ol' days... I fought in the war..." and I can see how someone would get like that. You can't circlejerk with a fellow moralist because you're both apolitical but with Rene you can both be like "you're so fr... make Revachol great again... you... you get it..."

On my first playthrough, I was a moralist. I was so centrist that I didn't do the political vision quest because I thought "hmm that sounds political, not touching that lol." Even if I don't agree with fascism, trying to see how parts of it are feasible and applying them to a legitimate viewpoint I/Harry can push has been much more fun than saying "hmm I don't have an opinion on this."

Not a sorry cop this time. I apologized a lot in my first playthrough because Empathy kept telling me how badly I fucked up and Harry was a brand new fuck up to me. This time, I'm leaning into the superstar and boring cop persona. When I have some leeway to joke around and someone tells me what a piece of shit I am? Haha, that was me. Own up to it. When someone brings up my suicidal, violent tendencies? Acknowledged, let's move along.

Third playthrough Harry feels much less like a spineless, albeit good-hearted loser. This Harry is jaded and takes no shit from anyone. No cooperating with Evrart, it would be unseemly for a cop to do his dirty work. An NPC starts dissing him? He pushes for the information he needs and leaves, not his business. He'll joke around on the job with Kim and the interviewees, but his goal is always to walk out with the information he needs, and he's not afraid to exert his (nearly non-existent as a skill, so he does this through the insane pile of evidence he's building and invoking the title of RCM officer) authority when he needs to.

[midwest-emotional]

i'm tired of pretending like what i did needs to be forgiven, and also that you're sorry

draft of a story about dying, and the things we say or do around it (incomplete)

for the week of January 28th, prompts were "heaven, necklace, tree."

CW for slurs, homophobia, cancer, transphobia, mentions of drug use

----

Trees get smaller as you grow up. You used to think it was because you were small and the trees were very, very large. They used to span up over your head, into the air, into infinity, but when you look around the neighborhood now, forty years passing, it’s that the trees have definitely gotten smaller.

This is how I feel, at least. This town’s been growing, and as more people come in, more trees leave. They replant the trees, sure, but the ones put in are smaller and frailer. I think a lot about the copse I used to smoke weed with in the nineties, where the trees blocked out most of the sun but just enough got through the leaves that the patterns on the grass became mystifying with each puff. That copse is gone now, ripped out to make room for a strip mall. The trees there are spread far apart, each one barely fifteen feet tall, and they’re smaller.

I can see it from the side of my car as I stop for a smoke break. Coming home is a bitch. Everything always changes. I’m pretty sure the high school in this backwater is no longer a hick high, where being an open dyke makes you less of a target. It probably even has a Gay-Straight Alliance, given how trendy among Gen Z being queer is. But the rules are stricter now, aren’t they? Once something stops being counter-culture, it starts to form its own status quo. Think of how this town used to treat me, and now think of how this town celebrates June. On my sister’s Facebook, I’ve seen advertisements for the pride celebration. Probably exceedingly tame, and exceedingly corporate. Fuck.

I take a drag on my cigarette, looking out at those pathetic little trees. Coming home. I haven’t done this in years, but the sperm donor’s on his way out, and I’m a fucking idiot. I’m giving him one last chance to look me in the face and decide if this boy-girl creature that I’ve become is worth forgiving. Not that I think I need forgiveness, but there’s some bullshit saying about making peace with your enemies. And yeah, the Dad that slapped me for shaving my head when I was 15 is definitely one of those.

The only reason I know they’re still here is that I’m in contact with my younger sister. Even now, I’m texting her about the arrangements and when I can come by. Ellie’s a saint, as some would say, or just spineless. She can’t handle confrontation, and because of that, she’s been put in charge of the sperm donor through his chemo. The two older siblings, who don’t talk to me, are apparently too busy with their perfect families to lift a finger to help him, not when Ellie’s there to dump everything on.

Dumbass Ellie. Too subservient for her own good. That’s probably why she’s the only one that talks to me, too, because she’s scared of rejecting me at all. Her texts come through soft and mousey, each one a slight suggestion. “What time is good for you?” she’d say, and I’d say, “What about one?” and she’ll go, “No, I think Dad is sleeping at one. Do you have a better time?” Just tell me what time to come over, god fucking dammit. We’ve finally settled on four, and she’s asking me about dinner. “What do you want?”

I know it’s a trap. Ellie’s got something picked out, something in her heart, but she wants it to feel like it’s my idea because if she stands up for anything at all, she’s pushing people away. She wants me to feel like she’s making me feel welcome. I hate her so much, and yet I keep in contact with her, too. Because she’s family, and she’s technically all I fucking have. I have the in-laws, technically, but one of them’s going down the dementia hole and the other isn’t coping well, so it’s not like I can talk to them casually. But Ellie’s around, and it helps that I don’t see her often. We keep in touch with pokes on Facebook, texts occasionally sent on birthdays, and selfies seen through the only social we share. And in those moments, I almost miss her.

Until I’m talking to her again, cigarette in one hand and phone in the other, trying to play “guess the restaurant” and get the answer right. Family fucking sucks. Why do I bother, I think as I take a drag. I could leave, and spend the entire day curled up in my hotel, and fly home tomorrow like I planned on it. There’s no way in hell I’m staying longer than tonight. Ellie’s going to try to talk me out of it, but I can’t. Even if it goes well, I can’t.

In many ways, it would almost be worse, wouldn’t it?

“How about pizza?” I finally text, after three other suggestions are thrown out. Chinese food gives her the shits, apparently. Ordering sandwiches is a waste of money, or so she’s suggested with her passive redirection. And Dad’s not really in the mood for burgers. So, I’ve got it. Pizza. The bitch wants pizza.

A few seconds later, I get a, “Pizza is fine.” A few more seconds later, I’m swearing and stomping out my cigarette as the new guessing game shows up. “What kind of pizza?”

---

If you listened to my mother tell it, it was over a necklace. It wasn’t even a particularly expensive one, just a simple golden chain with a cross and a small lab-grown gem in the center. A birthday present, expensive for our middle class family, that I ungratefully spat back in their face. I was a bitch, couldn’t just accept being a good girl, and nothing was worth dealing with my disgusting dyke ass.

If you’ve ever had parents that would rather you kill yourself than be gay, you know it was a long list of various breaking points that led to me throwing the necklace across the room and screaming that I’d rather be anywhere but there. Another spit in the face, another birthday getting make-up and dresses and frilly clothing in an attempt to fix me. And I was seventeen and not particularly emotionally stable, so how could I have stopped myself?

The way Ellie put it is that my father is willing to forgive me, and I’m not sure if I’m going to throw it back in his face or take it gracefully. I’m not seventeen anymore, and this isn’t the nineties. And sure, I survived being homeless. I crashed on friends’ couches, dropped out of school, and started full-time at the Dairy Queen. Then I threw together as much money as I could and moved with my friend Desiree to the nearest city, where we quickly realized we hated living with each other and it wouldn’t last much longer than the lease.

Sometimes I think about Des. Last I checked, she’s gotten married to a man that looks extremely boring, nothing like the men she used to dream about back then. They’ve had kids. They’ve grown up. And while I have, too, it doesn’t look like Des. I live in a two-bedroom apartment with my spouse, Brooke, and roommate, and while it’s a good location in Los Angeles, it’s generally agreed that none of us are ever going to be able to have kids. We’re too old and too broke. We’d have to leave the city, probably move to a red state, and my spouse isn’t as resilient as I am. I could survive, maybe. He couldn’t. He’s lived in California all his life, and while I love him to death, there’s a softness to him that I don’t quite want to ruin.

That’s why he’s not with me. He had offered, but I’m not willing to explain his presence, and I don’t think my sperm donor deserves to know him. I’ve got a few texts from him on my phone, asking me about the flight and how well things are going, and I’m not sure I can deal with telling him that I am going to kill my sister and end up in prison for the rest of my life.

I drive down the road where I grew up, and it almost looks the same. This part of the town, at least, has been untouched by the development of new businesses. Most of the houses are well-kept. I wonder if they’ve started an HOA; it would be just like them to try to keep undesirables off the block. I personally can’t stand lawns, which is part of why I didn’t move back to the suburbs even when we had to take a roommate just to keep rent.

Pulling up to the house, I think it looks just as shitty as it did back then. I park in front, because I’m not comfortable being in the driveway. It feels too close, too oppressive. I sit out in the front for a while and wonder if I sit here long enough, the neighbors will call the cops on me. “Scary bald butch in your neighborhood. Might convince your daughters to cut off their tits.” It’s a thought, and that’s how they think it works, right? Then I catch something in the neighbor’s yard: one of those progress flag “everyone is welcome here” sign boards.

Is that how we’re doing things now?

I guess I don’t look quite as shocking. Bald head, piercings, but I’ve chosen a relatively muted outfit. A normal pair of shorts, a normal tank-top for the summer heat. I could have dressed worse. I glance up at the door to the house, its imposing oak wood telling me that this is my last chance to run.

It swings open, and I’m so tired of running. Sighing, I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the rental. I slam the door shut behind me. Ellie is there, thin as a wire, walking down the steps and waving me over.

It’s too late now. She’s spotted me, and so I must stride, headlong, into the jaws of the beast. I exit the rental car, praying for no hugs as I head up the walkway. She calls my deadname and reaches for me, but I stare her down in such a way that she drops her arms.

“I told Dad you were coming,” she says.

“Any reason why you wouldn’t?”

She hesitates. “Well, I didn’t think you’d actually come, much less stay for dinner.” I didn’t promise that. I hope she remembers that I said maybe to dinner. “He really does want to spend time with you,” she adds.

I clench my jaw so hard that I think my teeth are going to crack. I remember my mom crying and begging me to reconsider my lifestyle, that I wouldn’t go to heaven if I kept this up. I remember the necklace. I remember his hand in the hair I was forced to keep, yanking hard. Why am I here? “I bet he does,” I say instead, as neutral as I can.

We stand on the porch for a few minutes, stewing in the awkwardness of the moment, and I wonder if I made a mistake not cutting off Ellie like the rest. She wants peace, but does she care about what’s best for me? I don’t even know if I know what’s best for me. She twiddles her fingers, picking at her cuticles and the chipped paint on her nails. Then she clears her throat. “You should come inside.”

[ducknotinarow]

[2k3/2k7 uwu]

Just because it was said in anger, said a while ago, didn’t mean it stopped hurting. Words am did far more damage than any bruise - perhaps that’s why Yvonne wished Raphael had attacked her as opposed to said what he did. Those wounds would’ve faded by now.

It wasn’t the comment about her being spineless or whatever that hurt. It’s when he said she was like her father. A man she strived to prove wrong at every turn, to be completely different from. A man she kept her mouth shut about, and, well, look what it led too.

She’s not going to keep quiet about things anymore.

Yvonne’s quiet as she sits next to Raph. Things may be patched up but there were still things left unsaid. Well, she believes she has things left unsaid,

“I’m sorry,” She says calmly, “For not telling you about Bishop; it’s not that I didn’t want to, honest, I just wasn’t sure how or when would be the best time, clearly I ran out of that by the time you did find out,” She explains, “I should’ve been the one to tell you, and I’m sorry it wasn’t, and I’m sorry that I kept it from you at all - you trusted me, and I should’ve trusted you to understand.”

She had wanted to apologise for a while, of course she did, the remorse genuine behind her words,

“There is… something I need to ask you though,” she isn’t sure what answer she would prefer, “When you, understandably, blew up at me at the docks, did you mean what you said?” Yvonne asks him, “‘Like father like daughter’, ‘spineless’, ‘you may be a butterfly but you’re acting more like a snake’ - that’s what you said.”

Don’t get angry. Don’t get visibly upset. Ignore the pit in your chest and breath. Ignore the way your voice wavered in that moment. Your silence hurt you both before, do not let it happen again,

“I’m not looking for an apology for what you said, I simply wish to know if you stand by it,”She feels like she’s setting herself up to be hurt again, “It’s okay if you did mean it you know, I suppose, selfishly, I’m asking for clarity on where we stand - that’s all.”

Well, it wouldn’t be okay, not for her, but she’d force herself to accept whatever opinion he had - even if it did hurt in the end.

| Muse interaction

Raphael was still getting used to everything, going away with Casey to the farm house had been in truth him wanting to run away. That wasn't really Raphael. He claimed running was a coward move after all, but he needed it. Wanted to run just so tried and annoyed by everything feeling like he was going to snap and loose it. Because all Bishop did was tell the turtle he was only one thing. Angry. Hell that's why he flipped out on Von right? because he was angry? Always so fucking angry. Don't matter.

There was nothing more to the turtle than his anger, and hot it roots itself into every nook and cranny of the turtles being. Those few between moments when Raphael is clam and feels at peace. When hes reading and Donnie's near by. When hes watching tv with Mikey. When he and Leo go out to the surface together and decide to race back. When Casey and him sit up on roof tops together. When he goes to Splinter's room and drinks tea with them in silence. All it is is keeping it all at bay isn't? Raphael wasn't one to handle so many thoughts in his head, it kept him tossing and turn in his hammock till he decided to give up on sleep for the night. As he rolls out from the side and lands hard on his feet. Takes a bit longer to let his eyes adjust to the darkness i his room. Mask loose and left to hang around his neck. as he makes his way out from the room and heads for the kitchen.

He could slightly pick up on the sounds coming from Donnie's lab as he walked past it "Coffee?" he asks with a yawn he was pretty sure he heard an answer. Well if Don didn't he was sure the smell of coffee brewing would lure his brother out. As Raphael continued to the kitchen he was grateful his brothers finally backed off, and were letting him breath with out any of them basically stepping on his feet after all that happened. Raphael was getting use to holding things on his left more now, he was getting used to turning his head over more. There had been talk about finding a fix but his whole eye was removed. Cause Bishop couldn't do a half assed job it seemed, there was just nothing left to even try to help restore the vision. Sure he could get an implant if he wanted but, it would just prevent the option at all. Raphael hadn't wanted to think about it much more than he had to. As he moved away from the coffee pot now, letting the water start to heat up and work out to filter through the grounds of coffee. As he moved to sit down at the kitchen table. His eye hurt, which made no sense it wasn't there. But sometimes it felt like there was throb around the missing right eye. When he heard someone come in to the kitchen he assumed it would be Donnie. Okay he was hoping it was Donnie. So the way he paused and sort of just stared at Von was because his brain needed a second to understand this was someone else. Well more this was Von. He had no idea before but guess she had been staying away from the lair as well. Yeah he went and told her sorry and they made up but this had been the most he been around here since all of that.

"hmm hey Von, didn't know ya were around. I dunno how ta make it cold but Coffee up for grabs once it's done." Raphael states, as part of him wanted to stick around to see if Don would come out soon but well no offense to Von but her being here too would sort of ruin that little thing with him and Don. Still not tried maybe he could go up top? maybe just crash at Casey's the rest of the night? Before he can fully think on what he wants to do though Von moved to sit with him. Raphael titling his head and quirk his beak a little as he looked at her curiously. "yeah?"

“I’m sorry,”

"Accepted?" Raphael offers trying to think about why she was being sorry in the first place. Von's more clam demeanor doesn't help to give him an idea on what this was all about though.

“For not telling you about Bishop; it’s not that I didn’t want to, honest, I just wasn’t sure how or when would be the best time, clearly I ran out of that by the time you did find out,”

Oh this. Raphael moves to sit up a bit well she speaks, blame it on him being tried or blame it on the fact he knows they are still well working on things between them. But he keeps his beak quite a moment. Honestly he hadn't thought about that much since everything that happened. he saw it was water under the bridge compared to everything else Von lying to him just didn't seem like as big a deal as he made it out to be before. Or Bishops words were just that loud in his mind.

“I should’ve been the one to tell you, and I’m sorry it wasn’t, and I’m sorry that I kept it from you at all - you trusted me, and I should’ve trusted you to understand.”

"Don't worry 'bout it babe." Raphael tosses out moving to rub the heels of his palm against the missing eye. Needing to press in against the side of it. That throb was getting worst right now. Part of him wonders if he ain't just thinking about it to much however, "yeah it took me through the ringer when..he told me. Yeah it pissed me off cause well ya my friend Von. But we ain't gotta say sorry every time we bump into each other now. I get it okay. Ya got cold feet on tellin' me. Timing was all off." thinking about it he's sure she never said sorry herself before uh? eh whatever. Moving to rest his head against the palm of his hand he can just tell there is more she wants to say.

"Ya gonna keep starin' at my good looks or ya gonna open ya mouth?" he teases hoping it prompts her just a tad so he will shut up.

“There is… something I need to ask you though,”

Raph doesn't even hold back the sigh that he goes and lets come right out from his beak "Okay? and what's 'hat?" he swears this better not be some weird family connection guilt. Raphael couldn't stand to deal with that on top of everything else right now.

“When you, understandably, blew up at me at the docks, did you mean what you said?”

"uh what part? I kind of said a lot 'hat night Von." in truth he didn't recall most of what he said, it was all this blind blank moment in his own memory. He just remembered how he felt not so much what he said. He recalls bits enough to know what he said was all in anger and a need to get her away from him. But sometimes a temper was funny, it let something out that you were keeping to yourself.

“‘Like father like daughter’, ‘spineless’, ‘you may be a butterfly but you’re acting more like a snake’ - that’s what you said.”

Raph physical grimaced at what she repeated. Regretting that he made it out that he himself didn't even recall what he told her. Yvonne on the other hand? Seemed like she had been carrying everything he said with her like scars. Reminders that never fades away and had yet to truly heal over. Worse Raphael couldn't even act like he wouldn't say those things ever. That is exactly what he dose.

“I’m not looking for an apology for what you said, I simply wish to know if you stand by it,”

"Von," Raphael tries to interrupt in a want to drop this whole thing. Now he wished he stayed in his hammock. That's selfish of him. Raphael just didn't want to do this. As childish as that was, but sometimes you got to.

“It’s okay if you did mean it you know, I suppose, selfishly, I’m asking for clarity on where we stand - that’s all.”

"ya know, ya remind of Donnie sometimes and it fuckin' annoying." There was no bite behind his wording there is a touch of fondness to his words. He caught how her voiced wavered when she spoke he can see how she's trying to hold herself together. Raphael hurt her, that's what he sees. He could lose the left eye and he still be able to see that. Rubbing at his temple a moment. The best thing he can do is give her a good answer, not sugar coated no one where he thought it over. He guess so he respects and cares enough about her to show he can be serious. "I only meant the spinless comment. Maybe a bit on the snake bit too but 'hat was me jus' baring my teeth at best."

Raph isn't sure if thats good or not dropping his hand now, he can push the pain away for a moment, turning to better face her right now. "Ya know Leo and I fight so much it jus' annoy Mikey and Don?" Raph can assume Don has complained about it before Mikey even since he liked hanging out with Von on those 'girl nights' of theirs. Why bring this up though? "Leo says some shit that can kinda hurt me more 'han well even losing my eye." He offers a bitter chuckle, it's easier to bring attention to it around Von though. "But Leo don' back down from me, he don' bottle crap away either, don' need me to confront him nether." Raph explains "Tell anyone 'his an' I swear I will prevent ya from getting a drop of coffee for days."He is quick to snap or some threat the first that comes to mind, messing with ones coffee is the only thing he can think of seeing how pissy Don gets over it. He waits to settle back to where he left off with "But I respect that 'bout Leo. Leo has never held back on me, if I piss 'em off I know trust me I do. I feel most usedta the harsh shit I say but trust me Leo can be worse. Sometimes I 'hink 'bout how fire when it's real hot it's blue ya? 'hat's how I think of Leo." He explains a bit "jus' no matter what though I can count on 'hat."

He's quite a moment "it's why I look for 'hat in others so much." because of the trait he respect most in his eldest brother. "I rather people be straight forward wit' me." Raph tries to explain, "I don' care they gotta say. If its painful or not I got more respect for someone 'hat can jus' be honest with me. I rather they jus' come out an' say it sure but even if it's take some push 'hat's fine. Why i wish Don wouldn' keep his beak shut all the damn time. Or you with this." reaching up now to rub over the back of his neck.

"Sure I can' say 'd have taken it well, sure I might still snap at somewhat. Maybe accuse you of bein' a double crosser. But 'hat jus' be me freakin' out 'hat if 'hat were ture. It been my fault somethin' happened to the rest of 'em. An' 'hat would kill me." Raphael knows better than anyone losing any one of his brothers would kill him but if he was the cause? yeah be worse. "But ya not jus' any one to me Yvoone. Ya important ta me too, i love bitchin' about shit with you. I love how fuckin' snarky ya can be. I love 'hat ya put your self into danger wit' thinkin' 'bout ya self. 'Hat no one can tell ya what todo ya gonna do it. An' I know ya someone I would put my life on the line for." He feels the need to point this all out before he speaks further.

"I can tell ya those thin's I haven' said to most ever. But ya can' tell me you were related to Bishop? How else would I 'ake that? Von. Someone I care 'bout a shit fuckin' ton, and would try and do whatever I could for if ya needed me to. But ya couldn' look me in the face an' tell me 'hat? Yeah Splinless. Even if I can bet I still wouldn' have taken it well cause well fuck it's Bishop. I can' stand that Matrix lookin' ass freak."

'Hat was the thing I didn' mean I jus' said it cause I dunno I freaked. I was pissed off an' i wanted ya away from me. Still think it was spineless of ya to keep it from me, but i guess i get it as well. But I am sorry for sayin' 'hat " He pauses a moment reaching over to set a heavy palm on to on shoulder. Raphael felt there was really only one thing to end this off on. "But ya ain't Bishop. Aint even close to him." he soon offers a smile her way "Got better fashion sense so least that ain't passed down to ya 'hat's somethin' yeah?"

[fanfictionatic]

Closed In

Part of Outcasts, a set of original works

Description: Tygran needs some extra cash and human trafficking is an easy way to get it.

Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, vomit, torture, blood, dismemberment, slight cannibalism, mentions of noncon but nothing actually happens

DO NOT CLICK THE READMORE UNLESS YOU ARE OVER 18 AND YOU HAVE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS

How the hell had you gotten yourself into this mess? Yeah, you had the skill and the muscle needed for it, but it was shitty work and you were no professional kidnapper. The lady on the phone told you to pick someone weak. Someone who was out late at night and wouldn’t be missed. You normally would have told her to go fuck herself and hung up the phone without a second thought, but the number she gave you was stupidly high and you were flat broke after last week.

You had picked the first idiot you saw in the public park. He wasn’t what you were expecting to find. You had gone with the park because you knew there was a steady supply of homeless people and dealers that liked to frequent the place after dark. Most of them were spineless sacks of shit and would fit her description.

But instead you saw a guy that looked like he had no business being there. Everything about him was colorful from his dyed pink hair to his rainbow sweater. Everything about him was clean and put together in a way that didn’t belong. You had no idea what he was doing in a place like this, but it didn’t matter. He would still be easy enough to take back with you.

He was distracted right now, staring at a possum and talking to it like it was some kind of small dog. It was easy to walk up behind him and put a rag over his mouth, gripping his smaller body with your own well built one until he finally stopped struggling and went limp.

Dragging him to your van was a pain. You were used to carrying heavy things, but a human body always felt weird. There was a reason you never offered to carry your opponents out of the ring when they were bleeding out back in your glory days. Like hell you were picking him up off the ground. That would make it even weirder.

You manage to toss him into the back and slam the door shut, quickly hopping into the driver seat and taking off. You were pretty sure no one was around to see you take the guy, but being careful usually paid off and you weren’t going to take any chances by sticking around for too long.

You make it to the abandoned house that you were supposed to drop him at, dragging him out of the van the same way he was dragged in. This place was a shit hole. It was run down and looked like it was built before electricity. You had to admit, the lady knew how to hide someone.

You unlock the door to one of the many empty rooms and set him down on the bed, using the rope on the side table to tie his limbs to the frame. This wasn’t a clean bed by any means. There were moldy brown splotches all over it that were clearly once made up of dried blood. Whatever fucked up shit that happened here hadn’t had the best clean up crew. But it didn’t matter with how hard to notice this place was. It’s not like people would be looking for evidence. Out here a person could do whatever they wanted and there would be no one around to hear any screams or cries for help. No one except for you and your boss.

You lock the door behind you and step outside. Now all you had to do was wait and you were pretty sure you had earned yourself a cold beer. You go to your van and rummage around in it until you find a battered red cooler. You open it and pull out a decent ale. You were picky about your drinks. You didn’t like that watered down yellow crap that tasted like piss. In your eyes it wasn’t even a real beer.

You make your way back to the porch and sit down in one of the decaying rocking chairs, pulling the tab and listening to the carbonated sizzle. You were far away enough from the city that you could see the stars. If you were more sentimental you might have come up with some corny crap about how you felt at one with the universe. But you weren’t that kind of person so instead, you were just glad you could relax for a while and have a drink before your boss showed up.

You aren’t really paying attention to the time as you zone out, but after what must have been an hour or two your alarm goes off. You were supposed to check on him every couple of hours to make sure you didn’t overdo it with the drug you used.

You slowly unlock the door, stepping back into the room with the pastel nightmare that clashed with everything around him. He was awake by now and rocking back and forth, smiling and laughing to himself like there was some inside joke only he could understand. Didn’t he know what was going on by now?

“What the hell are you laughing about? Did you get high or something before I found you?”

His head suddenly snaps around and his gaze hones in on you. His eyes are wide with excitement and he still has that grin on his face.

“I’m so happy! I was lonely out there and I was worried I wouldn’t find anyone! But you found me! And I’m just soooooo happy to see you!”

You roll your eyes. What did he think this was? Had he already lost his mind to try to cope with what was going on around him?

“Yeah well, congrats. I found you. Now you’re stuck here until I get paid.”

He just kept laughing. What the hell was going on with this guy? You picked him because he was easy but he’s still weird as hell. Oh well, he was conscious so your job here was done. You could probably leave.

As you turn around to head out the door, something finally clicks in your mind.

The ropes you had tied him with were gone.

The realization comes too late though and the last thing you hear is the laughing getting closer before you black out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you wake up, you can’t move. The ropes from before are tied around your arms, but you can’t recognize the knots on them. They seem to be much tighter than they were before, almost like someone had picked the perfect way to tie them.

You’re ashamed to admit that maybe, just maybe you fucked up. It’s not like you had much experience tying people up. This was just supposed to be an easy way to make some cash. You didn’t think it would matter if you just used what you knew from other guys you had worked with in the past.

You felt a weight on you and blinked, looking up. He was sitting on top of you, straddling you. How someone that tiny could overpower you was both a mystery and an embarrassment. You were were going to tell him to go fuck himself, but you stopped, the words catching in your throat.

Was that a knife?

He stopped laughing, but he was still smiling at you. You didn’t like where this was going.

“What the hell are you going to do to me?” You tried to keep your voice stern to hide the cold dread that was creeping over you. You were supposed to be the Iron King, the guy no one stood a chance against. You had never felt this helpless before, even when you had finally been forced to retire.

The strange man hummed, tossing his knife around like he was trying to juggle it. “Are you scared? It’s ok if you are! I like giving surprises. Surprises are fun!”

You feel yourself shudder involuntarily. He didn’t have any intention of telling you what he was up to and that made it a hell of a lot worse.

“Where should I start? Hmmm....” You squirm around when he starts to pull your shirt up. Hell no! You weren’t going to let some stranger fuck you!

But to your relief and horror, he presses the tip of the knife against your stomach carefully, making sure not to break the skin just yet. You can tell he’s thinking about it from the curious glint in his eyes. It looked like his intentions weren’t sexual, but it only made this slightly less horrifying. You had a feeling you still wouldn’t be walking out of this alive.

He was moving the knife along your body now, searching for the perfect place to make a cut. You shut your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow help you brace yourself for the pain.

Big mistake. You can’t stop yourself from screaming as you feel something slice your eyelid open, forcing you to stare up at the colorful bastard until he leans down to lick up some of the fluids from the exposed squishy surface. This sends a new wave of pain through you.

He gives you a fake pout, making a whining noise of disappointment. “Hey, no fair! It isn’t fun if you have your eyes closed! I want you to see all the things were doing together!”

You glare at him and spit in his face. Fuck it. Did it even matter how much you pissed this guy off? He was probably just going to kill you anyway. And you could take this even with the stinging dry sensation your missing lid caused.

“Fuck off. This ain’t fun and I don’t want to play your sick game. I’m not going to give you what you want.”

There was a silence before he frowned. You close your eye again and turn over to let the filthy pillow cover your vision as much as possible, smirking triumphantly. If you could keep your composure you could at least rob this smug asshole of the satisfaction he would get from watching you lose your shit.

“It’s not nice to cheat.”

You feel your face being violently pulled up and you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out as a finger hooks itself into the bleeding socket and starts to pull. It takes everything you have to stay quiet as the dirty painted fingernail digs into places it should never touch.

“Hey, why won’t it come out?! Uhg, stop being so stubborn!”

You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or your eye at this point, but he seems frustrated. You can’t hide the glee in your voice.

“What’s the matter? I thought you were supposed to be better at your stupid ass game.”

He lets out a high pitched sound of frustration that reminds you of an angry squirrel. It would have been funny if he was still the one tied up. But he isn’t and you can tell he’s had enough when he finally gives up on pulling and slices the stubborn parts away, taking half your sight once and for all.

You can see him panting as he clutches your eye to his chest. His eyes are feral, like a rabid dog around water. But the smile slowly starts to return to his face as he breaks out into another laughing fit.

“Yay! I won!” His voice is almost singsong as he swings your own eye in front of your face. The moment almost feels surreal, like something out of a dream and you are still able to keep your composure. But then he does something that must have finally made your face twist into a look of horror without your realization.

He opens his mouth as wide as it’ll go and dangles your eye over it before he drops it in dramatically. He closes his lips, rolling it around on his tongue for a few minutes, making sure to savor the taste of your dismembered body part before he finally swallows it whole and you can make out the indent of it as it slides down his throat into the endless void of his guts, never to be seen again.

He licks his lips. “You taste so good! Wow, maybe I should do this kind of thing more often!”

You finally go quiet and just stare at him, letting him ramble. He’s talking, but you can’t really focus in on what he’s saying after the first couple of words. Something about you being candy. You can’t tell. At this point you’re just hoping he gets bored and ends this. You can’t risk him doing that shit to you again and taking your other eye. Even if you’re already a dead man you just....can’t. The thought letting the last of your vision slip away inside his body is just too much for you. You feel sick.

Maybe you shouldn’t have had that beer after all. Before you can stop yourself, you feel your stomach emptying it’s contents all over your bare chest. This seems to just amuse him more, earning you another laughing fit.

“Awww, did you get yourself dirty? Let me clean that up for you!”

Your mind is still gone as he starts to carve the first slashes into your chest, making sure to only go for the areas covered in vomit. But you’re just silently begging for it to end as your flesh bleeds and strings. Is he licking you again? You can’t really tell.

Mercifully your vision starts to waver after what feels like a few hours. You silently thank whatever god is out there that you’re going to bleed out before he can do anything else to you. The human body has limits that even a fucked up killer like this guy can’t fix.

The only thing that brings you out of your daze is the door opening. You can recognize your boss as she walks through from the golden tattoos that cover her whole body and her pitch black eyes that seem to absorb all of the light in the room. She’s wearing a hat like always. You were always suspicious that she was more than she let on, but you could never confirm it.

“What the hell is going on Tygran-”

She stops herself, a genuine look of shock coming over her face as she takes everything in. There’s a red and brown pool of who knows what on the floor and you must look like a mess by now. She turns to your former captive.

“You.”

You’re about to ask her for help before you see the cold smile on her face that almost matched your attacker’s. Both you and the pink haired guy had frozen to stare at her, not daring to move a muscle. She always had an aura that creeped you the hell out.

“You’re hired.”

You’re thankful as the last of your consciousness fades, sparing you the shame.

[fcrafcrtnight]

"YOU OUGHT TO AIR ON THE SIDE OF CAUTION. ATTACKING SOMEONE LIKE ME? YOU REALLY DON'T KNOW WHO YOU'RE MESSING WITH. my father made you police captain. it's only fair that i unmake that for him, hm? you're not worthy of such a title." oh, if there hadn't been people around, she would have swung for his nose or something worse. the staff was used to it and no, they would not be getting in her way. she had trained them ALL too well. "am i? tell me, detective, when was the last time that you saw your sister? oh, wait. you probably think that she's still dead? OOF. WHAT A SHOCK IT MUST BE TO LEARN THAT SHE IS JUST A FEW DOORS AWAY. UNDER MY CARE. SWEET ANGELINA COULDN'T TAKE WHAT HAPPENED TO HER AND SO.. SHE ENDED UP HERE," was the threat as clear as day in her voice? yes, it was. no one messed with her like this and right now? oh, she was seeing fucking red. this wasn't happening. it wasn't going to be allowed to stand. "i'm nothing like my brothers. they're spineless cowards, afraid to do what's necessary. i'm not. i've gotten my hands dirty before. I'LL DO IT AGAIN." she only laughed. "is that so? you fail to see that i could say whatever i wanted to say and my staff would simply.. go along with it. if i wanted to say you broke our rules? if i wanted to say you attacked one of my patients? that you tried to let a dangerous criminal like my niece out? I COULD. NO ONE WOULD SAY I WAS LYING." fucking try me, was what she was saying back. if he thought she was going to back down? absolutely not, no. she didn't and he had no idea of who he was messing with. "oh? go? i'm afraid we're not taking you back to town. oh, no. my driver will pick a spot and simply leave you there. good luck outside, with the cold and everything else. MUST BE A NICE WALK BACK TO TOWN. COUPLE OF GOOD MILES TO MAKE YOU THINK, HM?" she'd tell her driver to leave him somewhere in the middle and even if h could find his way back to town, he'd never know the way back here. win, win. "and in the meantime? allow me to make one thing very clear. cecilia is my little toy to play with, until she eventually dies. her expiration date will be soon, as i'm sure you saw? should you attempt to help graham or anyone else try a daring rescue? your sweet sister will pay the price and then, that boyfriend of yours. both of them will die and.. is that blood you want on your hands? THIS IS A FAMILY MATTER. STAY THE FUCK OF IT." it was only then she let him go. @xtinyslip

fantastic. he wasn't in the mood for theatricals after what he had seen and not when he still had a shit tonne to do. he needed to solve his ex mayor problem, meet with will, have a strong drink and still a plan a date for edgar. he didn't need her shit on top of that list. mark hadn't been expecting her to break character so easily, he also hadn't been expecting the slap that made the side of his face burn. if he wasn't aware that they had an audience, he most likely would have swung back. he didn't see a woman, he saw a pederson. "you ought to air on the side of caution. attacking the police captain? not your smartest move." little bitch. still, he accepted it ; because right now he had no choice too. he even let her push him against the wall but now, now he was SMIRKING. he'd gotten to her? now he definitely had a reason to be smug and he wasn't hiding it. "you're just like them. a less polished version maybe but like them, all the same." looking down at her like, like the piece of shit he believed she was. "i didn't think about messing with you, I DID." it was the truth, right? hey, he'd gotten in and he'd mostly gotten what he wanted. he wasn't an idiot, he wouldn't have gotten cecilia out of there this time. even if he'd HATED walking away. actually, he hated just how much he'd hated having to do that. "make a call and say what? that i honored your every request? even when you seemed to put up concerning barriers every time i tried to visit?" FUCKING TRY IT. is was what he was saying with that. he knew he was covered, hell, he knew she'd know but she couldn't do anything with it… unfortunately, neither could he. "unless you want to take this conversation somewhere private? i suggest you remove your grip and let me go." and she really didn't want to do that with how much rage was burning in his veins right now. @fcrafcrtnight

[itsmyartfam]

Dadzawa fic rec list

So lately I’ve been reading a lot of Dadzawa fics so I thought I’d share them with you. I shortened down the summaries of some of the longer ones- I didn’t put them in my own words of course, but I just used the shortened snippets that authors sometimes put at the end of their own longer summaries. They’re in no particular order of greatness, and I tried to get a good blend of popular and less popular ones so here u go.

1) i. shaky hands- rexcorvidae

midoriya has chronic pain, and tries to hide it. aizawa deals with this, and learns something surprising along the way.

One-Shot. Honestly their whole whumptober collection is amazing I would totally read them all if you have the time, they’re pretty much all loaded with great Dadzawa content

2) Not all exits are made Equal- LunaLucrea

When a raid goes wrong, and Aizawa gets taken, he's hardly expecting to be found. He's a professional Underground Hero. He's seen situations like this play out before, and knows how the cards usually fall.

He's got people he'll miss of course, and he feels terrible about what this is going to do to Hizashi and Eri, but these are the types of risks he agreed to when he signed on the dotted line all those years ago. He's ready to accept his fate.

Too bad for him his former students are tenacious little shits.

Three chapters. I love seeing how Aizawa interacts with older Midoriya in the first chapter and how he thinks of all of his former students now that they’re pro heroes, he’s such a proud dad but he’s also so self-deprecating and he needs some love and class 1-A will force it on him. Wholesome, 10/10, but also warning for whump! on Aizawa’s part.

3) To the people we admire- The_ crownless_ queen

Eri learns about autographs, and how they're a way for fans to show they like their heroes. Naturally, she wants all of them — and especially Eraserhead's.

One-Shot. I don’t read many Eri fics but my god, this one is adorable. Eri learns about autographs and wants Aizawa’s but his students know that Aizawa doesn’t really give autographs so they devise a plan to get one out of him- basically by making him jealous of Eri getting autographs from every hero but him. It’s wholesome, Dadzawa is like ‘wtf Eri’, I love it.

4) Inhibitions- Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

Todoroki gets zapped by a Quirk that effectively lowers someone's inhibitions, and Aizawa deals with the strange, humorous, heart-breaking fallout.

The train ride back is something of a nightmare. Not because it goes badly, or because something awful happens, but because Aizawa can’t get rid of this feeling in his chest every time he sees Todoroki’s unusual, carefree smile. He looks like nothing has ever hurt him.

One-Shot. Lol, this one’s funny- Todoroki acts all loopy and carefree and Aizawa is frantically scrambling after him trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble, all while finding out more than he’d ever thought he’d learn about his student. Good shit, good comedy, good angst.

5) I consider myself lucky- alightintheshadows

For some of us, our teachers are the greatest role models we'll ever have.

One-Shot. Ugh, this is so sappy and kinda cheesy but I love it! Izuku gives his dads All Might and Aizawa gifts because he loves is grateful to them. WHOLESOME SHIT

6) Not in the Job Description- IidaRei98

A collection of drabbles revolving around the Dadazawa and Class 1A. Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort - whatever pops into my head really!

Incomplete, 56/? Chapters. Solid collection of dadzawa drabbles. I didn’t finish reading them all because I get easily distracted away from long fics, but since it doesn’t follow a plot it’s easy to put down and pick back up when you wanna get your dadzawa fix.

7) passing through fire- achievingelysium

“What happened? A villain?”

“Ye- yeah,” Midoriya croaks. Shouta starts walking.

“I was there,” Shouta says, feeling through the words before he speaks, “but I don’t remember?”

Midoriya closes his eyes.

“No,” he agrees, “you wouldn’t. But- but you... were there. With... me.”

Aizawa finds himself in a street with little memory of how he got there. Then he discovers Midoriya, beaten and bruised, who claims Aizawa protected him—but as Aizawa regains pieces of his memory he realizes Midoriya may be lying, and he's the one who's done his own student harm.

One-Shot. OOH, OUCH, FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE! God I love the Dadzawa ANGST in this! I haven’t seen a dadzawa fic with a plot like this before, so I highly recommend checking this one out, especially if you like ANGST! Love it!

8) a penny for your thoughts- cassiopeia721

While visiting Eri at the hospital following her rescue from the Shie Hassaikai, Izuku and Aizawa-sensei both run into a nurse with a telepathy based quirk, and Izuku finds himself in a telepathic bond with his teacher. This is... somewhat worrying, considering how many secrets Izuku needs to keep.

Six chapters. Yet another Dadzawa fic with a unique concept that I have never come across before. Very good, much angst! My only complaint is I wish Izuku could’ve heard a bit more of Aizawa’s angsty thoughts, the whole thought-hearing did feel a bit one-sided at times, but overall it was a very good fic. The angst of Izuku struggling to keep his many secrets from Aizawa for a whole week was *chef’s kiss* Good dad-son bonding.

9) Geyser- spineless

Izuku faints during class when weeks of sleeping and eating poorly catch up with him. Aizawa, All Might, and his friends, remind him that no matter what he's going through, he doesn't have to do it alone.

Three Chapters. Good Dadzawa being all disapproving of his son Izuku pushing himself too hard and not taking care of himself like he can fucking talk lol. But also some angst cuz Izuku is a tormented boi who has been through too much and is Not OkayTM and his dads are there to help him.

10) The World on His Shoulders- baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

During their second year, Aizawa decides to take some of the students on patrol to give them a taste of the underground hero life. But of course, nothing goes as planned when UA's resident Problem Child is involved.

One-Shot. Izuku is a BAMF and Aizawa is like O.O. I can’t say anything more. This fic deserves more attention.

____________________________________________________

Okie dokie, that’s enough for now. If you guys like my recommendations, maybe I’ll make another list in the future! 

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[astra-stellaris-a]

『☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ』 ──  @fallesto​ // for kokushibo── 『･ﾟ⋆*･⋆*･ﾟ☽』

[  duel  ] muses  get  into  a  fight

This.. she was so similar to the Astra he knew... and yet not. The blade, even was similar to Astra’s own, but rather than the purple and red.. it was green and red. Two colors that had no business mixing together on a blade. Opposites. This Astra didn’t have  ‘Upper Two’ carved into her eyes and didn’t have the same scar. She didn’t even have a demon slayer mark. But she was strong.

This time, she was the one to stop him, to step up and take on the upper one while the rest moved to finish off Muzan. She’d killed upper four previously and recovered well enough.. and she knew walking into this fight would more than likely end with her death. But at least it would be good for something. She was sure he could kill him.. the journals that the original Astra left. The love she held for this man... it was cloying. To know that the original Astra would be at Muzan’s side, protecting him. That she’d made the ultimate sacrifice--her humanity to stay at his side.. and still loved him. Demons weren’t supposed to love.

A love that transcended even hundreds of years. Two fanatically loyal, loving beings, bound to Kibutsuji Muzan. Of course, she was sure they even extended that love to him. 

It made her sick.

Her strike saved Michirou. “Get out of here,” she said, her deep voice heavy, “Sanemi, Gyomei, Muichirou. He’s mine to kill. Go help upstairs. They needed you ten minutes ago.”

She heard Sanemi curse her and she laughed, “Get the fuck out of here. Didn’t you hear me? I’m pulling rank on you.”

And that left them-- the sparks dancing upon her blade, the flash burn hot and furious as she looked up at Kokushibo. “Supposedly you’re like my many times over great grandfather or some shit. I had a choice between you and grandmother. You should know.. I wanted to test myself against you. Me and her.. we share the same name. But we sure as hell ain’t the same person.”

“I hope you burn in hell together for everything you’ve done. You know she left journals? All of it was pathetic love notes about you. About how no one else understood her. About how much she cared for you. I think it was selfish of you to ask her to give her humanity to you.” Even though he didn’t have to ask. The original Astra--Upper Two, had done so willingly. “It makes me sick being named after someone so horrendously weak!”

“Someone so weak that they would turn on everything they ever knew, even their own children!” Her strike was furious, stronger than anything she’d ever done. “Who were given to your loving brother!”

“No one else has ever dared approach you both.. and I have generations of rage held in my chest. So fight me, Grandfather, and we’ll see which Tsugikuni’s truly superior. Gods, it’s disgusting--Tsugikuni Astra. Did she let you pick out her demon name, too? Did she roll over on her back like a good little bitch and beg for it? And I bet she even thanked you for it like the disgusting spineless whore she was.”

Kokushibo was dealing with an infuriated Astra--this gaze held no love or care. Only fury and wrath. It was an expression he’d seen worn at others but never himself... and this Astra’s words spoke of the same cruelty that his own did before weaker demons died to her. Her words were meant to be infuriating and inflammatory. She wanted him to hurt. And she would do so using Astra’s name. “Sharing her name is a shame. A black mark upon my soul. And I intend to purge it tonight. After I kill you.. I’ll tell her about it. I’ll watch her cry. And then.. maybe I’ll kill her. Maybe I won’t. I don’t want either of you finding comfort in hell.”

[drakenology]

Their S/O is shy. With Bakugo, Todoroki and Midoriya!

author’s note: HIIII! So I got this idea from work today. I’m a shy, reserved person in real life and I imagined a headcannon where y/n was an uwu girl. enjoy! I’m going to do the Bakusquad next time. 

warnings: suggestive themes, light violence, fluff, and cussing.

Bakugo 

thinks you’re the cutest

teases you a lot. 

will smack the shit outta anyone who tries taking advantage of your kind and shy demeanor.

loves how your shyness comes to play in the bedroom; he likes trying to get you to loosen up a little.

Would butter you up with compliments and praises.

“I dunno what you’re so shy about. You’re fuckin hot.”

likes how he’s the complete opposite of you

VERY protective over you. 

You and Bakugo are out at a restaurant on a date. You’re looking through the menu to see what you want, not being able to decide between the burger or the quesadilla (yum!). 

“I think I’m gonna get the steak. What about you, babe?” Katsuki asked, peering over to look at your menu. 

“I dunno.. I think the burger sounds good. I think that’s what I’ll get” You say, sitting your menu down. Bakugo is staring down your dress, oogling at your ample cleavage popping out of the v-neckline. You notice his gaze, blushing profusely. 

“S-Stop it, Katsuki.” You say, covering up your chest with your menu. He smirks and runs his hands up your thighs causing you to fold your legs to try and stop the wetness coming from your panties. Even though you never admit it out loud, you loved when he groped and stared at you. It made you feel like the sexiest woman in the world. Katsuki grabs your chin and kisses you.

“You’re gonna get it tonight, princess.” He whispered in your ear. You blush as you notice the waiter coming your way, swatting Katsuki’s hands away from you. The waiter walked towards your table and sat your drinks down.

“Thanks. Ready to order, babe?” Bakugo looks towards you. You nod, feeling a little nervous to order yourself. You were very soft spoken, so ordering food was a bit of a challenge for you. But today, you had worked up the courage to order without Bakugo’s help. 

“Hi, u-um.. I’ll have the burger, please. Also could I get that without any onions? I’m allergic.” You say, looking down at your menu instead of at the waiter. 

“Certainly. And for you, sir?” The waiter said, motioning to Bakugo.

“I’ll have the steak please. Well done. I don’t like my steak pink. If I see pink, me and my lady are leaving without payin’, ya got that!?” Bakugo said aggressively. To anyone not knowing him, they think he’s being rude and difficult but you know he’s just trying to make the waiter nervous on purpose as a joke. 

“Yes, sir. Coming right up.” The waiter says, leaving in a hurry. 

“Katsuki, you’re giving the waiter a hard time.” You say softly, your voice sounding like a disappointed mother. He sighed, grabbing your hand and kissing it. 

“Alright, I’ll lay off.” He said, laughing. You two chatter about what you guys did for hero work that day, laughing and enjoying each other’s company until the food came. Finally, the food comes; the aroma coating your nose as you get excited to eat.

“Enjoy.” The waiter said dryly, clearly not liking Bakugo’s attitude. You both shrug it off and prepare to dig in. Bakugo seemed to like his steak but your burger had onions all over it. Even if you had picked them off, it still wouldn’t have been safe to eat. You sigh, poking at your burger in disappointment.

“What’s wrong? How come you’re not eating?” Bakugo asked, his mouth full as he wiped steak sauce from his mouth. You shake your head, not wanting to make a scene. He looked at your plate, seeing your burger teething with onions. He’s way angrier than you are, waving the waiter over to your table with fervor. 

“K-Katsuki, I can just take them off it’s not-” You’re interrupted by Bakugo, who isn’t having any of it; already knowing what you’re about to say. The waiter clearly didn’t like Bakugo’s attitude so he messed your order up on purpose because he noticed how soft-spoken you are. He didn’t chance fucking up Katsuki’s order because he knew he’d have a fit and probably kick his ass if he got short with him. 

“No Y/N, it is a big deal. Look at it! It’s got onions all over it. You can’t eat that shit, you’ll get sick even if you pick ‘em off. I’m givin that asshole a piece of my mind!” He shouts, still trying to get the waiter’s attention who was clearly ignoring you two. 

“HEY! I KNOW YOU FUCKING SEE ME. GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, NOW.” Bakugo shouts. Oh god. The waiter rolled his eyes, walking over to your table.

“Is there a problem, sir?” He asks, not eager to help at all. 

“You’re fuckin’ right there’s a problem. What did my girl order, huh?” Bakugo says, standing from his seat. 

“Katsuki, please.” You say, tugging his sleeve trying to get him to sit back down.

“She ordered a burger.” the waiter answered with attitude. 

“Yeah, with NO ONIONS you idiot! GO TELL THEM TO FUCKING FIX IT OR I’M TELLIN’ YOUR BOSS AND YOU’RE FUCKED.” Bakugo yelled, grabbing the waiter by his collar. The waiter; scared out of his mind, is now sweating with fear. 

“V-Very sorry, sir. I’ll fix that for you right away!” The waiter said, running back to the kitchen to fix your order. Bakugo sat back down in his seat, going back to eat his steak as if nothing happened. The whole restaurant was staring at you both, you sinking into your chair from all the eyes on you. 

“THE FUCK ARE YALL LOOKIN AT!?” Bakugo yelled, getting everyone in the room to turn their attention back to their own tables. He looked back to you, seeing a frown on your face. 

“Don’t you think you went a bit too far?” You ask, crossing your arms. 

“Nope.” He said, feeding you some of his steak until your new burger came. 

“Nobody messes with my baby.”

Todoroki

is such a mom omg

just as protective as Bakugo (if not more)

encourages you to open up

supports your small wins (awww)

fucks the shyness outta you hehe

loves you and your shyness no matter what 

You and Shoto are getting ready to go out when you’re having a difficult time deciding what to wear. You had pulled out a few garments to wear; a red strapless bodycon dress that Shoto got you to accentuate them curves of yours or a simple bulky sweater and jeans. You were a little nervous to dress sexy for Shoto, unsure of yourself and your body not to mention all the potential unwarranted stares from others. You sigh and start dressing yourself in the boring outfit you picked out and sat down at your vanity to do your makeup. Shoto walked in the bedroom from your bathroom to see the dress sitting on the bed. 

“Why aren’t you wearing your dress, love?” He asked, concern written all over his face as he stood next to your vanity. 

“I-I just don’t want all the attention on me. I’m nervous. What if everyone stares at me?” You say, tears burning your eyes. Shoto takes you by your hand and leads you to the full body mirror mounted on the wall of your bedroom. He pushed your hair back and kissed your neck, running his hands on either side of your body. 

“You don’t have to worry about the stares. I’m going to be there to protect you, okay?” He says, sweetly kissing your cheek. You smile warmly and nod. He was right. You change into the dress and slipped on some heels to match, giggling at the praises and encouragement from your boyfriend as he reached for your hand to kiss it. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” Shoto said, taking a good look at your curves. He feels himself harden at the sight of you, involuntarily groaning as he pulled you close to him for a deep kiss. 

“How about we stay in tonight instead?” 

He was determined to make you open up... one way or any other teehee.

Midoriya 

loves you SO MUCH OMG

doesn’t care that you’re a little shy and soft-spoken

speaks for you when needed

stands up for you

loves to motivate you 

thinks you’re sinfully adorable

You and Midoriya are walking through the supermarket, shopping for food for your shared home. Izuku was always such a huge help, lifting all the heavy things and putting them in the cart or reaching for things that were too high for you to reach. You loved shopping with him and he loved it too because he could look after you and spend time with you at the same time. 

“Crap, I forgot we need meats for dinner tonight. What did you want again, Izuku?” You asked, looking up from your shopping list. 

“Pork, please. You always make the best pork curry, Y/N” He said sweetly, kissing your forehead. You blush and walk over to the meat department while Izuku gathers the rest of the ingredients for dinner. You stand in line with your number and waited your turn patiently. Suddenly, this big burly man comes out of nowhere and cuts right in front of you in line. You hated when situations like this happen because it was always so hard for you to stand up for yourself. You gulp and muster up enough courage to confront him...sorta?

“U-um excuse me.. I was ne-” You’re interrupted by the man shouting over you.

“Shut up, bitch! I’m in a hurry so why don’t you just wait a little while longer.” He yells. You’re shocked at how he spoke to you, clearly this man lacked manners. You stand there, dumbfounded and scared. You were so frustrated with yourself you’re brought to tears, wiping them away as you stand in line and wait your turn. 

“Bitch?” you hear a familiar voice repeat. It was Midoriya, standing beside you with your cart in toe. “You thought this woman was alone, didn’t you? Fucking coward.” Izuku walks towards the man, intimidatingly calm. The man scoffs until he sees Izuku’s face. The pro hero Deku was standing right in front of him and he was angry.

“H-Hey.. I had no idea okay? I’ll back o-”

“If it was me standing there would you have cut in front of me and called me a bitch?” Izuku asked, grabbing the man by his shirt. “You get off on bullying women don’t you, you spineless bastard? Think that just because your big and ugly that you can just push people around? People like you make me sick. Get in the back of fucking line before I lose my temper.” The man does so, glaring at you as he walked to the back of the line. You sigh in relief as your number is called, Izuku leading you to the counter with his hand on your back. He turned around and glared at the man who gave you a hard time one last time. 

“What would you like to order, miss?” The butcher said with a smile.

“Pork, please.” You sigh.

[tenthgrove]

can i order a uhhhh... a hc scenario with la squadra members where s/o is kidnapped by a rival gang/syndicate no matter if s/o is a stand user or not? you don't have to do all the members if you don't want to c:

La Squadra rescues their beloved

La Squadra (separate) x Reader, Romantic, SFW

They left this morning with menial business. A hit, no complicating factors, minimal difficulty. There was no cause for concern in leaving you to watch the base. You relaxed on the sofa, content in the promise of a date that night and unaware of the figures creeping towards you from behind. Maybe if you had known what was happening, you could have saved yourself, but even the most powerful stand users in Passione are useless when knocked out. The intruders dragged your unconscious body out the window and into the trunk of the waiting car. If their intel on you was correct, the weight of your loss would immobilize the assassins for days. If only they knew the lengths your love would go to to bring you back.

Formaggio- There’s no way to beat around the bush. Formaggio panics. While he doesn’t doubt the capacity of his team to break you out, that relies on them actually knowing where you are. And that’s going to take hours of slow, excruciating investigation. Formaggio doesn’t have time for that! His baby’s life is on the line! But then, the young man bearing the conditions of your release arrives at the hideout, and Formaggio gets an idea. They aren’t going to comply with the terms, but they aren’t going to take Ghiaccio’s idea of just killing the agent and his escorts either. Instead, as Risotto is sending them on their way, Formaggio slips himself into the agent’s bag. How kind of the man to give him a ride all the way back to the enemy’s hideout! Once there, Formaggio shrinks himself further to the size of a keyhole, and slips his way through doors until he reaches the dingy room you’re being kept in. He crawls into your lap and nudges you to wake up. You’re amazed and overjoyed, and spare no delay in letting him shrink you down as well so you can sneak out together. Your captors will never know what happened! After a couple days of recuperation, the two of you will be sure to return with the rest of the team to give the group who took you their payback. Formaggio wants them to know what happens to anyone who hurts his beloved, and he’s going to make sure the two of you have fun doing it.

Illuso- Illuso’s first concern is to balance the dangers of busting in to save you without adequate planning, with the dangers of leaving you alone too long. Fortunately, Illuso’s stand is perfect for observation without risk of being spotted, so it’s easy for him to spy on the enemy syndicate’s associates and follow the right leads until he finds you. Taking a prisoner from La Squadra di Esecuzione has everyone in the syndicate talking, so it’s only a matter of hours until Illuso collects the information he needs to find you. With that sorted, Illuso seeks you out and pulls you into the safety of the mirror world immediately so you can’t be harmed, but then, he’s going to fuck with your captors. The doors are barred from the outside and they find their colleagues disappearing one by one until suddenly, the hallways start to look wrong. It’s as though the layout of the building has been flipped somehow. Then they see the laughing figure approach them, and they know it’s too late. You watch this all go down from the safety of behind Illuso, content to watch your captors cower like children as your boyfriend avenges your imprisonment.

Prosciutto- For a day, there is silence. The success of their plan is almost surprising to your captors, who fully expected at least one reprisal from La Squadra by now. They’re ready to present the terms of your safe return when, another shock, Prosciutto beats them to it. He phones them up. In exchange for your safety, he promises to switch sides. Your captors are floored. He’s actually willing to take their deal without them even needing to hurt you? Perhaps he won’t be worth much to them at all if he’s this spineless! Nonetheless, they agree to a meet up. Prosciutto can come, but he has to come alone and with no weapons. They’re fully aware his stand is indiscriminate, so if they bring you to the meet-up, the risk of hurting you would render him powerless. Surely. When the meet up begins it seems Prosciutto has kept to his word. He is alone, free of any weapons and carrying nothing but a suitcase of ransom money to smooth things over. Everything goes as expected and you find yourself staring dumbstruck as Prosciutto so willingly signs away his loyalty to Passione. Finally, Prosciutto hands the leader of the enemy suitcase the briefcase. A token of goodwill, he assures him. The leader unlocks the latch and opens the case, and is hit by a wave of cold air. The case is packed with nothing but bags of ice. Your heart leaps. “(Y/N)! CATCH!” Prosciutto yells, ripping the suitcase back from the mobster’s hands and tossing it at you. As the confused mobsters try to make sense of what is going on, Prosciutto summons his stand and begins its deadly effect. You hurriedly stuff the ice bags down your clothes to save yourself, but nobody around you is in any state to make the connection. One by one, they wither and fall. Grateful Dead snaps into nothingness and Prosciutto lends you a hand, helping you to your feet.

Pesci- You’d think he’d freeze up. You’d think he would become paralysed and indecisive with the fear of losing you. But no. When Pesci realises what has happened to you, all he can feel is anger. Anger and resolve. He sits down immediately and begins compiling everything that is known about the group that took you, having no qualms with ordering about anyone who volunteers to help him. Within a couple of hours he knows where you most likely are and has a concrete plan to get you out. And yes, it involves a lot of blood. Pesci will accept help in getting you back, as he knows it increases your chances, but he still wants to be the one to avenge the wrongs against you. Make no mistake that Risotto and Prosciutto are only there for support. The unprepared kidnappers have no chance against Beach Boy, when Pesci’s insecurities are completely buried under an overwhelming desire to be back in your arms. The battle is over in minutes and Pesci is holding you tight, muttering that he’ll never let anyone harm you again. Prosciutto is proud of him, as are you.

Melone- Now this is somewhat fortunate. With your permission, Melone collected some of your DNA a while ago in case you ever became useful as an emergency mother or father for his stand. He doesn’t make a habit of tracking you, but with your profile saved to Baby Face’s memory he can activate that ability whenever he wishes, and have your location in a matter of minutes. Deciding that with your life on the line, there isn’t time for him to take the lengthy route of creating a junior to attack your captors, he calls on the help of the rest of the team to break you out by force. But even with Risotto or Ghiaccio leading the attack, Melone will still ask to come along just to be reunited with you all the sooner. He’s going to be at his absolute best in taking care of you after you’re safe, making sure you’re unharmed and reassuring you with his attention. In terms of revenge, Melone would like to see you take your own against your captors. If any were taken alive, he wants to see you make them pay.

Ghiaccio- There’s no sense of hesitation as Ghiaccio speeds out the front door the second he realises what happened. It’s a good thing that La Squadra already has some knowledge of the group that took you, because Ghiaccio’s going to make up his plan as he goes along. All he can think about is having you safe and alive, and those thoughts possess him as he goes from place to place, tearing up every known haunt of the syndicate holding you captive until he finds you. When he finally arrives at the correct place, your capturers know to expect him. They’ve increased their security to the max until there’s a veritable army present to greet him at the door. But it’s no match for White Album. Nothing is. Ghiaccio doesn’t stop running when he gets to you. He carries you in his arms at full speed all the way home, terrified of any small injury you might have gained. Your close-call will leave him shaken, and he’ll guard you very closely for a long time. However, there won’t be any talks of revenge. After Ghiaccio’s rampage, there is nobody in the enemy syndicate left to pursue.

Risotto- A darkness falls over Risotto’s eyes when he finds you missing. His mind is filled with regret- regret for not following up on this new enemy sooner and regret for leaving you alone while the rest of them went out. But the time for remorse will come later. Now, he’s going to get you out. He scowers his contacts for clues as to your whereabouts, and he’s not afraid to threaten anyone he suspects of being compliant with your capture to find out what he needs to know. Anyone in the building when Risotto arrives might as well already be dead; he’s not showing mercy to any of them. After ensuring your safety, Risotto has no need to finish things quickly, so your captors will be subject to slow, agonising deaths courtesy of Metallica. Risotto believes strongly in principles of revenge, so he invites you to take the finishing blows if you so wish. Once the enemy hideout is coated wall to wall in crimson, Risotto wordlessly picks you up, regardless of whether you’re hurt, and carries you home. He takes you to your shared room and cradles you gently until morning comes.

Sorbet and Gelato- When the team discovers what has happened Sorbet and Gelato share a silent, all-telling look. They disappear to their room shortly after and anyone who passes can hear the distinct noise of weapons being moved around and loaded. They leave the information gathering to those more suited, but as soon as your location is known they emerge from their room armed to the teeth, announcing that they’ll be leaving right this second regardless of who will be joining them. They ram down the gates of the enemy hideout with a car, before bursting in, firing off their guns at whoever is unfortunate enough to be near. Gelato keeps everyone occupied at the front of the house, while Sorbet takes the mildly more stealthy route to seek you out. When they find you, you’re struck by the fact they seem almost gleeful to be presented with the opportunity for such bloodshed. But make no mistake, they’re absolutely furious. Never have either of them had to deal with one of their lovers threatened to this extent. Like Risotto, they’ll be looking to make your kidnappers suffer, but it won’t be over so quickly for them. They’ll be dragging the worst offenders home, to be subject to their torment for however long they please. The rest of La Squadra knows better than to ask questions. When they aren’t down in the basement getting revenge against those who hurt them, they’ll be sandwiching you between them on the bed or the sofa, whispering words of affection into your ear. You’ll be lucky if they let you get up any time this year.

[seaswalllow]

“You’re gonna lose a finger if you don’t get outta my sight right now,” Clypeus rumbles. It’s more of a low, furious snarl, really; Solus, just passing by, winces as the smoky tang of anger hits his nose. Skye’s there, a poisonously sweet smile curling the edges of her mouth, and Timore is there, all icy anger- he only has to look once at the nobleman that they’re loosely arranged in front of, and he can guess what exactly is happening here.

Fucking nobles. Especially because if he’s remembering right, this is the eldest Duke of Hoarton, and- ugh, he really doesn’t need to guess. Not with the man who has more mistresses than fingers on his hands, and he hasn’t even lost any fingers.

He wanders over, pasting a vaguely cheerful smile onto his expression, and drapes himself across Cly. The weight won’t do much to stop Cly from lunging, but it’ll make him second-guess the movement, and hopefully ground him as much as Skye’s hand on his arm is.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” He all but purrs, slitted eyes watching the duke with keen interest. Duke Hoarton is nasty enough, and just as foolish, but it takes a special kind of stupid to stare down three, then four witchers, and assume you’re not outnumbered.

“Duke Hoarton was giving me some tips about what to do with my beauty, and Clypeus objected,” Skye says with some amusement, darkly tinted, and Solus snorts, making sure to lend it as derisive a weight as he can. It’s just funny when he watches the duke’s ruddy face color a deep, rich beetroot, in his defense.

Then he considers his next words.

“I thought the Duke liked being on the other end of the harem?”

Silence. Solus stifles a gleeful wriggle, only watching the Duke’s mouth open and close like a cat at a mousehole, and slowly, steadily, Clypeus’ scent smooths out into something lighter.

“Those are dueling words,” the Duke warns, face red, and this time Solus doesn’t hide the way he throws back his head and cackles. Besides him, Skye giggles lightly too, and Solus throws her a wide smiles as he catches his breath, leaning heavily on Cly.

“Oh, fuck, that’s a good joke- shit, you want to pick which of us you’re going to fight? Skye probably should, as the head, but I’m fine with dueling for my words, can’t be worse than a drowner-”

The duke’s blustering again. Honestly, it’s fucking hilarious, and he could stand here all day, but Clypeus is also steadily winding tighter and tighter under his grip, so he only grins, bright and merry and cruel.

“Here’s a tip. If you’re not willing to put some steel behind your words, don’t fuckin’ drop them at all, you spineless loach. Skye, whattya say?”

“Leave him,” she hums after a moment, eyes just as bright as his. “He’ll learn his lesson better if he’s alive, after all.”

“Honored, Skye of the Cats,” the duke grits out, and Solus rolls his eyes, dragging himself off of Clypeus only to start turning him in a different direction. Skye doesn’t bother offering him the courtesy of a bow; only watches with sharp eyes as he bows and scurries into the crowd before she crowds around their other side to herd them out.

The crowd parts like water before them- an angry witcher is a sign for havoc, let alone two. The fact that they have four witchers doesn’t help.

Solus exercises enough self control to wait until they’re outside, and then he drops the smile, facing them. Cly rumbles again, and he slides an arm around his shoulders, waiting for the Wolf to draw his arms around him.

“Mistress-hunting, I’m presuming,” he says, and Skye sighs.

“Wife hunting. Disowned Aphelion or not, some nobles haven’t gotten it through their head and think my title would make a nice accessory to theirs.”

“Fuck them,” Clypeus grits out, and- ow, yeah, his arms are tightening around Solus. “Fuck them, and their lies, and disrespectful trophy-hunting bullshit-”

Solus shoots a wide-eyed look at Skye, but Timore only looks on in grim agreeance. It’s not that he disagrees. It’s just that- well. This is an interesting development now, how protective he gets, isn’t it?

Skye sees his look, and steps around to him, curling up under another arm. “Stop, Cly. It’s okay— they’re not worth your anger, okay?”

“They don’t even see you as a person,” he starts, and then falls silent as Skye presses a gentle kiss to his lips. Top marks, Solus notes idly. Very good way to make your Wolf be quiet.

“Seriously. It’s okay. While they’re out here, chasing empty titles and pointless pride, I get to be happy with all of you. I have a family I can trust, partners to trust- everything they have is built on a lie. And I’m more than strong enough to face them.”

Slowly, slowly, Cly presses his forehead against hers, and the acidic taste of his anger fades a little more.

“I know you are,” he murmurs quietly. “But it rankles all the same.”

“And that’s why we’re here as support,” Solus breaks in, now slinking up to Timore to wrap himself around the Viper and revel in his warmth in the cool night. “So you don’t go cat-mad from jealousy and start an intercontinental incident.”

“I’m not jealous,” Cly grumbles, and all of them laugh faintly- even Timore huffs out a soft laugh, the knife in his hand vanishing. “Seriously, I’m not. I just don’t like sharing.”

Solus has to pause at that, and squint at him.

“…We are in a polycule.”

Cly waves a hand at him, and Skye giggles a little, the edges of Timore’s mouth ticking up.

“That’s different. You don’t count. I trust you, I don’t trust the fucking wife-hunters.”

Solus presses a hand to his chest and playfully swoons back against Timore. “Do you hear that? He trusts us! A declaration of love so profound-”

“I take it back,” Cly deadpans over him, “you specifically are not allowed in my room-”

If Solus puts his heart into it, really puts his heart into it, he thinks he can win his way back in. That’s half the fun, anyways, charming his way back, testing out how much those beds can hold out, how much of the innkeeper’s coin goes towards good, solid products. It’s not the entire point of it, though, he thinks, as the din of their argument ebbs and falls as they wind their way back to the inn they’re lodging at for the night.

I trust you.

“I trust you too,” he says, at once, and all three of them look askance at him before Skye beams and pads over to press a kiss to his cheek, Timore grumbling less aggressively than he would otherwise.

I trust you, I love you, I’m here for you. We’re yours, and you’re ours.

[icerosecrystal]

Marijon - My Secret Older Sister

Her name is Marinette Amani Al-Ghul. Marinette is the first grandchild of the demon-head and the daughter of Talia Al-Ghul. She is also the older sister of Damian Al-Ghul by two years. Despite what others may think, both she and her brother came from the same man. Bruce Wayne. Although Damian has no idea who his father is, Marinette has known for eight years. Despite the young age of 12, she was an incredibly smart girl. She also possessed the ability to be happy and feel love. But not in front of anyone but her brother and sometimes her mother. She and her brother had a great relationship. They were always there for each other. Damian was there for Marinette when her grandfather Ra's would sometimes beat her for not doing well on a mission. And he would base it solely on her gender. Marinette was there for Damian the first time Damian had to kill someone. It disgusted him, but he continued doing it for the sake of his title.  

Then the day the League fell came. Slade had attacked when Ra's was showing the whole League to Damian and explaining that it would all one day be his. Marinette was standing behind them next to her mother. Ra's had told her mother to grab both of them and run. Marinette protected her brother throughout it all when suddenly, Marinette got shot in the stomach. She collapsed in pain. She saw her mother running back to them, so Marinette let go of Damian, who was looking at her worriedly, "Damian, my akhi, go run, save yourself. Tell Mother to take you to Father. I'll be fine."

Damian was crying now, "NO, I won't leave you, you have to come with me. Please don't leave me, ukhti."

Marinette smiled sadly. She then hugged Damian and kissed him on the cheek, "I love you. And I promise I will find you one day." She let go of his hand as Talia quickly grabbed his arm and lead him to the docks, glancing at Marinette once in worry.

Marinette was lying still for a little bit before she heard a voice say, "Tom, I found her!" Marinette turned her head to the side and saw her godmother, Sabine Cheng recently Dupain-Cheng, hurrying over to her, with her godfather Tom not too far behind.

When they reached her, they gasped at the wound in her stomach. Tom picked her up and quickly walked to the docks with Sabine following. "Where we going?" Marinette said her voiced slurring, herself only half-conscious due to the blood loss.

Sabine answered, "We're going to Paris. We had a house there just in case we ever had to escape the League."

Marinette nodded in turn before she closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion take over. "Good night," she heard before she was fully asleep.  

Marinette woke up to an unfamiliar scene. She tensed, but when she caught sight of her godparents, she relaxed, "So what's the plan?"

Sabine was the one who answered", Well, you aren't allowed to act like the devil in disguise." Marinette scoffed, but she didn't argue, knowing Sabine was right. She may be sweet with her family, but with strangers and acquaintances, she wasn't the nicest. "Also, you are going to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You are the daughter of two bakers, Tom and I, and you are a designer. You will also be clumsy and stutter a lot."

Marinette nodded in understanding, "Okay, but what about Damian?"

Sabine sighed, "You're just going to have to hope that one day you find each other again."

Marinette nodded in understanding. She then went up to her new room, ready to put on a mask for the rest of the world to see.

(Time Skip)

It was now the start of the tenth grade for Marinette. She was now thirteen-years-old, and she was ready to play her part of the clumsy baker's daughter. She took some macaroons for her new classmates and then walked outside. While she waited to cross the street, she caught sight of a man crossing the street. A car was heading right to him. Regardless of who she was pretending to be, she wasn't going to let a man get hurt. She ran and quickly pulled him to the sidewalk, effectively using it as an excuse to trip over her feet. She handed the man a macaroon and then ran to school.

At school, she sat down quietly in her seat. When a dark girl, with brown hair and auburn highlights, picked a fight with a blonde girl. The blonde girl was supposedly bullying Marinette. Marinette and the blonde girl exchanged looks, acknowledging that the girl before them was a load of bull. Marinette then found out that the blonde girl's name was Chloe, and she was a bully, and the other girl was Alya.

Marinette looked around the classroom, analyzing everybody.

She then heard a voice scream, "Kim!"

She looked behind her to see a big, burly blonde kid, look like he wanted to beat up somebody. The teacher then asked him, "Ivan, what is going on?"

The blonde kid replied, "It's Kim! I'm so going to get..."

The teacher then pointed to the door and shouted, "Ivan, go to the principal's office."

Before Ivan could stomp off angrily, Marinette spoke up, quite surprised by the way the teacher was handling things, "With all due respect Miss, you didn't even listen to Ivan's side of the story. It could be Kim that's bullying Ivan, but you're rather playing favoritism."

The teacher sputtered, not knowing how to react, "Who gave you the authority to question my teaching skills?"

Marinette smirked, replying, " Common sense."

Mrs. Bustier walked out of the classroom to calm down, pure fury clear on her face. That day she turned into Zombispect. When she kissed them, they would automatically obey and respect her. That was also the day Lady Spots and Chat Noir resided in Paris.

While Lady Spots was a great superhero, Chat Noir was an incompetent fool. Marinette hated him. He would always flirt with her and never get anything done. And in many cases, if he didn't get what he wanted, he would either threaten to quit or sit out. Marinette never told him, but she honestly thought that she did better in battle when he wasn't around.

In terms of her civilian life, Alya convinced herself that she was Marinette's best friend and that Marinette had a crush on Adrien. In actuality, Marinette's best friend was and is her brother, Damian, and Chloe. While Chloe was spoiled, she was also neglected by her parents, which made her act rather bitchy at times. And she for sure did not have a crush on the spineless Adrien Agreste. No one in the class knew anything about the real her. But her godparents and even Chloe, who knew a bit about her. But, the one person that Marinette wanted to talk to was her precious little brother. She needed to hug him, spoil him, and talk with him about everything. But most of all, she wanted to know that he was still alive and happy somewhere.

Marinette would cry herself to bed every day, hoping that one day she would see him again. Thankfully, Tikki was on her side.

(Time Skip of one year. This is after Volpina, but before Chameleon)

It has been two years since Marinette last saw her brother. Alya was still going strong, coming up with ridiculous plans for her to date Adrien. She was still a "clumsy" baker girl. And while designing was her supposed hobby, after about a month, she really got into it. What pissed Marinette off the most was that she had to wear pink, have her room pink, and wear pigtails. Why? Because it strengthened the fact that she was an innocent, little, naive girl. While it did help people underestimate her, it annoyed the heck out of her. She actually ranted to her godparents one day about how bad her appearance was, "How can one color be so bright?! How could anyone like looking at it?! Why the hell do these pigtails make me look like a short-ass baby?! I look like a fucking moron! Where the hell is Damian when you need him?!" It was about three days later when her question was answered.

Marinette had been walking around town when suddenly someone bumped into Marinette.  Marinette caught herself and caught the person she bumped into. But the words that came out of the person's mouth had her reeling, "Tt, what type of imbecile are you to be bumping into people on the street?" Marinette would know that voice anywhere. And sure enough, when she actually looked at the person that she bumped into, she was staring into the face of her brother. When he realized who she was, he let out a timid, "Marinette," that had Marinette practically sobbing.

When she found that her face was wet, she realized that she was sobbing, but she didn't care. Damian was alive. She strangled him with a hug, cooing softly into his ear once he too started crying. They stayed like that for a while before they released each other. It was then that Marinette saw the boy standing behind Damian.

She blushed when she noticed his features, black hair like her own, the bluest, purest eyes she had ever seen. He was wearing glasses that gave him a nerdy look, but his body begged to differ. He was very tall, probably 5ft 11, and had huge muscles that gave off more of a jock look. He had so many characteristics that Marinette felt insanely attracted. She snapped out of her thoughts and offered the boy a hand, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, or Marinette Al-Ghul, Damien's older sister by two years."

He gave her a blinding smile that could rival the sun and then kissed her hand, "Jonathan Kent, Jon for short. It's nice to meet the sister of my best friend." The more she studied him, the more she realized that he looked familiar. It was then that she realized he was Superboy, the superhero Alya had been raving about last week.

Marinette blushed at him kissing her hand. She then decided to let her inner devil come out to play. Leaning closer, she whispered, "It's nice to meet you too. I hope that you have been nice to my brother. Because if I found out you haven't, I might get my katana and skin you. I know that you might be invincible, but with the kryptonite, which I do have, you would be weakened within a second. So make your decisions carefully." She then leaned back and watched how his expression changed. His face went from happy, to confused, to shocked, to scared, and the surprisingly, love.

He smirked, "Well, you are better than I expected." He then pulled out a piece of paper and wrote his phone number. "Call me, you're hot and a little devil, I like it." He then winked and gave it to her.

They both heard Damian scream, "KENT! Stay away from my sister before I skin you!"

Marinette giggled and took the piece of paper from him. She then asked, "You look to be about my age. Why are you with Damian?"

Jon replied, "I'm 15-years-old. So one year older than you. (I know that Jon is actually three years younger in Super Sons, but for this to work, Jon is three older, not younger. If you have any problems with that, fight me.) And Damian and I work together a lot. We're considered the Super Sons, so we're best friends."

Marinette nodded in understanding before suggesting that they all go to a coffee shop to talk. Damian and Jon agreed. Damian told Marinette all about their father, their brothers, and sisters, him being Robin. He told her everything. She offered him support and asked questions about their family.

When it was her turn, she explained how Tom and Sabine saved her and how she came to Paris. And how she is pretending to be a clumsy sweet girl who likes pink. (She wasn't totally over the whole pink thing along with the pigtails.)  That coaxed a laugh out of both Damian and Jon. But when she got to the part about Alya, Damian wanted to skin Alya. He was Marinette's best friend, not some dumb harlot. When she explained how she was Lady Spots, and Chat Noir had some major failings as a partner, it took both Jon and Marinette to hold him back. He continued trying to escape while shouting, "LET ME AT HIM, HE DARE FLIRT WITH MY SISTER!!! I'LL SKIN HIS SORRY ASS BEFORE RIPPING HIM INTO SHREDS AND DUMPING HIM IN A RIVER!" He then continued to explain exactly how he would kill Chat Noir. Marinette knew that he was capable of going through with his plan, so she distracted him by asking for his phone number so that they could stay in contact. Damian calmed down enough to give it to her.

When she realized how late it was, she gave a hug and promised to meet up with him for the rest of the week. She also promised that once he left Paris, she would stay in contact. She wasn't going to leave her brother again. She then went up to Jon and kissed his cheek before saying goodbye. She then turned around and went home. If she had stayed a second longer, she would have seen Jon blush and then touch the cheek that she kissed with his fingertips, a goofy smile adorning his lips. Although Damian wanted to keep Jon away from his sister, he supposed Jon was better than the mangy cat or the spineless model.

For the rest of the week, the three met up every day and did different activities. One day they went to the Lourve, another an arcade, the day after that a carnival, and so on. On their last day, they went to the park and then went for Andre's ice cream. When they arrived, Andre greeted Marinette, "Bonjour Marinette! Would you like a sweetheart ice cream."

"Oui Andre. This is my brother Damian, and his friend Jon." She then turned to the boys, "Andre is the sweetheart's ice cream maker. He essentially gives you icecream based on the characteristics of your soul mate. Damian, how about you go first."

Damian stepped in front of the cart, "Ah, Damian, one scoop of violet and honey for her eyes, coconut ash for her hair, and cherry for her mysterious and complicated past. Here you are." (There is actually such a thing as black ice cream. It's made with coconut ash that people sometimes flavor with burnt honey vanilla.)

Damian took the ice cream and looked at it. He then realized that it looked like Raven, his crush. He blushed. "Ah, I see the love fair and true. I suppose you know who is right for you?" Damian nodded and started eating his ice cream, a small smile gracing his lips. He then paid attention to his sister and his best friend. They were now getting their ice cream.

Andre looked at the two and said, "Ah, but here's the truth, the two of you are the right match. You complete each other just like one, so come, let Andre supply you with love." Marinette and Jon were both surprised by the turn of events. But they both just blushed and agreed. Andre then said, "Blueberry for both your eyes, strawberry for her lips, cherry for his secret, and cotton candy for your personalities. Enjoy!"

Jon and Marinette waved goodbye and then ate their ice cream. They were still surprised about the turn of events. Neither knew what to say to the other until picked up some courage and asked, "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

Marinette was surprised but agreed. They shared a chaste kiss. They then heard Damian gagging in the background. They broke apart, and Jon raised an eyebrow, "You're one to talk. I saw your ice cream. It really represented, mmph." Damian covered Jon's mouth before he could blurt out the name of his sweetheart.

"Kent looks like it's time to go! By the way, if you hurt my sister, I won't hesitate to kill you." He then dragged Jon off, leaving Marinette to chuckle to herself. The next day, she said goodbye to Damian and Jon. She gave them both a quick hug along with an extra kiss for Jon. She was so happy that she had found her brother again.

(Time Skip of three years)

It has been three years since Marinette bumped into Damian and Jon in Paris. The two visited whenever they could, the same with Marinette. But they never told their families. Marinette didn't tell her family because they didn't know she was Ladybug. Damian didn't tell because he wanted his sister to himself. Jon didn't tell because the other two didn't. Jon's and Marinette's relationship was still going strong. They loved each other very much. Jon loved how playful and happy Marinette could be, but she wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone. She was his little devil. Marinette loved Jon because of how pure and sunshiny he was. She loved how he cared for her and was always there for her no matter what. Damian actually started a relationship with Rachel Roth otherwise known as Raven as Andre's ice cream had indicated all those years ago.

During the three years, many things had changed, though. A girl named Lila came and turned everyone against her except Chloe. Marinette pretended that she was sad, but really she was ecstatic that she didn't have to hang out with morons anymore. She found Lila quite pathetic. Lila let others do her dirty work for her. She hid behind lies and morons. Marinette never found her as a threat.

She also defeated Hawkmoth a year ago, but it was because he surrendered. So, she didn't take him to jail, she made him donate thousands of dollars to people who needed therapy from the akumas and do community service. He agreed, so she let him go. She was glad that Gabriel Agreste had learned his lesson.

Yeah, for the most part, everything was going fine, she wasn't stuck with morons, and she had her brother and boyfriend. Until her brother and significant idiot forgot that her bio family didn't know about her.

It was the end of another shitty day for Marinette. She collapsed on her chaise. She looked at the time and realized that it was time for her's and Damian's video calls. She groaned before getting up and getting her phone. She dialed his number before waiting for him to pick up. Once he did, she saw that Jon was with him. They all talked together animatedly. What Damian and Jon forgot to do, was make sure that the Bat-family didn't come back from patrol while they were still on the call. But naturally, the two idiots forgot.

So, two hours later, when the three were still talking, they didn't realize when Jason came into the room. They only did when Jason screamed, "Demon Spawn and Supes Junior are talking to a girl on the phone!" This alerted the rest of the Waynes, so they all ran into Damian's room. When they entered, they were met with quite a sight. A confused Jason was watching a small pixie-like girl screaming at Jon and Damian in what seemed to be Arabic, Urdu, Russian, English, French, Spanish, Romanian, and Greek.

Once she calmed down, although she was still glaring at the two boys, she introduced herself, "Hi, my name is Marinette."

Dick asked her, "What's your last name?"

Marinette replied, "It depends on who your asking. Here in France, I would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. In the league, I would be Marinette Al-Ghul. But, my real name would most likely be Marinette Wayne."

Jason yelled, "Your married to Demon Spawn!"

Marinette scowled, "No, Tt, are you always this incompetent? I am Damian's older sister by two years. I am also Jon's girlfriend of three years."

Bruce took a deep breath and pinched his nose, "And the reason none of you said anything was because?" He looked directly at Damian when asking the question.

Damian snapped, "I didn't want to share my beloved sister. She is too good for you imbeciles. She is also too good for Kent. But Kent is better than the mangy cat or the ugly model."

Everyone looked at Marinette confused except for Damian and Jon. She quickly shook her head, "Don't ask. If you want to ask me some questions, I'll be there in a minute."

Damian realizing that she was going to use the horse miraculous to transport to Gotham quickly said, "Wait, no, don't!" But she had already ended the call making Damian curse in Arabic.

Seconds later a portal appeared and a girl stepped out. She then spoke, "Kaalki, dismount." A flash appeared around her and they then saw the same girl on the phone now in front of them.

This left Wayne's gaping, while Alfred asked, "Mistress Marinette, would Kaalki I assume, need anything?"

Marinette replied, "Oui, she prefers sugar cubes to recharge. Merci, Alfred."

Then Jon got up and shouted, "My little devil!"

"Sunshine", Marinette exclaimed in joy before kissing him with full force. He kissed her back passionately. She placed her arm on his shoulders while he held her waist and lifted her a little off the ground. After a little bit, there was an awkward cough that reminded them that there were others in the room. They gave each other one more peck, before reluctantly pulling away. Although, Jon's arm was still around her waist. Marinette tried to not focus on the aching in her chest that was telling her to pounce on Jon and smother him in love and kisses while he did the same to her.

Marinette sighed and tried to focus on the situation at hand, "It's nice to meet all of you. My name is Marinette Al-Ghul Wayne, and I am Damian's sister as mentioned."

They all stared at her strangely until Tim asked, "Are you sure you grew up with Damian, or that your mother is Talia Al-Ghul? You seem a lot more different from Demon Spawn."

She smirked at them viciously, "First of all, I am for sure Damian's biological sister. Second of all, I may seem like an angel, but I'm the devil in disguise, hence Jon's nickname for me. Third of all, I'm not as arrogant as Damian because Ra's was always abusing me since I was a girl. So, I am a lot worse than Damian, I just don't show it."

No one knew what to do with this information. Sure Damian already knew about the beatings, but no one else did. They stared at her in worry, but she just waved them off, "Don't worry about me. Ra's is dead, I'm living with my godparents, and I'm happy."

Damian then rose an eyebrow, "What about your moronic classmates?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you. This pathetic girl who threatened to take my friends away, made it so that no one talks to me anymore. So, yay! Oooh, also I should probably explain my life to you?" She then went on to talk about everything, how her life was at the league, what happened when Slade attacked,  her life in Paris and when she became Lady Spots, how she met Damian and Jon, what happened after that.

By the end of her story, everyone looked like they wanted to kill her classmates and Chat Noir. Well, almost everyone. Bruce was on the ground muttering to himself, "Why, why, why? I just wanted one of my kids to not be a superhero. Is that too much to ask for?"

While Bruce had his breakdown, Tim asked her, "Did you defeat Hawkmoth?"

"Yeah, I did. He surrendered, so I let him off with some requirements in place. I actually was thinking of doing something to expose Lila. As much as I hate the morons, their future will be horrible if they keep on listening to that pathetic bitch."

Damian looked at her curiously, "What were you thinking?

"You are going to invite my class to the Wayne Gala. There we are going to introduce the whole family, including me. Damian, you are going to bring Raven. I'll bring Jon obviously. If we disprove that she knows the Waynes, the rest of her lies will come crashing down." Everyone smiled obviously pleased with the idea.

So they spent the next month getting the gala together. They organized a contest that Bustier's class won. During the month, the Waynes got to know Marinette. While Damian did have a problem with sharing her, everyone still go to know her. They were officially scared of her after she won after sparing against everyone and then cussing at Damian in many languages. It made Jon fall more in love with her though.

Another problem was that the Waynes would walk into Jon's and Marinette's make-out sessions all the time. Once, Jon, had Marinette pushed up against a wall and he was kissing her passionately. Marinette had her hands in his hair, one of them playing with the ends of his hair. She had taken off his shirt and was kissing down his neck. Jon had groaned and had stopped her so he could kiss her neck as well making her moan in want. He was whispering about what he wanted to do with her at the same time. Through dazed eyes, Marinette looked up and finally saw her family looking at her, both Damian and Bruce had their jaws clenched. When Jon noticed them, he quickly let go of her. Dick, Jason, and Tim started laughing, cooing, and teasing them, making Marinette hide her head in his chest. This made Damian launch himself at Jon, but before he could, Marinette had already disarmed him. She screamed, "Don't hurt my boyfriend, Damian." He just huffed, but let it go. From then on, they made sure to lock the door.

It was finally the day of the gala. Marinette saw all of her classmates. They mostly looked nice, but Lila was wearing an incredibly revealing dress.

It was then time for the reveal. Bruce went up to the stage and announced, "Good evening, everybody. I am pleased that you could all attend. Today, I would like to introduce all of my children along with their significant other. To start, my oldest son Richard Grayson, also known as Dick Grayson along with his wife Kori Grayson."

(Bruce's suit)

(Dick's Suit)

(Kori's Dress)

"My son Jason Todd."

(Jason's suit)

"My son Tim Drake."

(Tim's suit)

"My son Damian Wayne with his girlfriend Rachel Roth."

(Damien's suit)

(Rachel's dress)

"Finally, my new found daughter, also Damian's biological older sister Marinette Wayne. With her date Jon Kent."

(Marinette's dress) 

(Jon's suit)

When her classmates saw Marinette they started screaming insults. She just raised an eyebrow at them, "Is there a problem?"

Alya yelled, "Yeah there is. You're not a Wayne, you never told me that you were."

Marinette replied, "We were never best friends so I was under no obligation to tell you anything. I am a Wayne. I just lived with my godparents in Paris until my dad found out about me. I am dating my handsome boyfriend, Jonathan Kent. I have given you so much proof. How about you question Lila. She claimed that she was dating Damian. Damian is two years younger than her and he is dating Rachel. She isn't close to the Waynes, I am. So, stop questioning me and question her."

Everyone looked at Lila, but she was incredibly pale. That showed everyone that she was lying. They started yelling at her. Bruce then spoke up, "Security, escort this class out of the gala." As security did so, no one stopped yelling at Lila.

Marinette and Jon then turned to the reporters and Marinette said, "Five questions go."

She pointed to one reporter, "Where do you live?"

"Paris like I mentioned earlier."

She pointed to another, "How old are you?"

"I am 17-years-old, almost 18."

She pointed to a third one, "Were you surprised about being a Wayne?"

"No, I knew that I was a Wayne my whole life. But I was sent to my godparents instead of my dad like Damian. But I still knew." She pointed to her family, "They were surprised about my existence."

She pointed to a fourth reporter, "How do you like being a Wayne?"

"I really enjoy it. They are so nice to me. I really cherish them and we all have a lot of fun together. "

She pointed to a final reporter, "Do you like being Jonathan Kent's girlfriend and how did you meet?"

"We met when I bumped into him and my brother in Paris. We spent the week together. We got this thing called sweethearts ice cream. The ice cream tells you who your soulmate is. The guy who runs it Andre said that we were meant to be together. Jon asked me to be his girlfriend after. We have been a couple for three years. I love Jon a lot. He's really sweet and considerate. I wouldn't trade him for the world." Everyone awed.

Jon then picked her up bridal style, "Now that this is over, we'll be going home to have some fun." He winked at everyone.

Marinette blushed at the implications, "JON!" But, Jon silenced her with a passionate kiss, carrying her off the stage.

As Marinette kissed him back, she felt so happy. She had a loving family and boyfriend. They accepted her and cherished her.

She didn't know that the league was going to be attacked, but it helped her grow as a person and escape abuse. She didn't know that she would get a boyfriend. She didn't know she would ever meet her little brother ever again or meet her family. She didn't know what the future had in store for her. But she did know that she was going to spend it with her boyfriend and her family, and nothing was going to stop her.

(Sorry for the pictures smack in the middle of everything!)

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

Internet Friends

For Maribat March day 4 theme internet friends

Master List

It was peaceful for once in the manor. Dick, Tim, Damian, Steph, Cass, and Babs were all in the living room doing their own thing. However peace cannot last forever and the silent atmosphere was interrupted by one Timothy Drake-Wayne. 

“Guys come check this out!” He exclaimed, his phone facing the others in the room. They all gathered around the phone, some more annoyed than others. On screen was a video and Tim hit play. 

It showed a girl with dark hair, blue eyes, and pale skin motioning for someone off screen to come over. There was music going on in the background and the girl was obviously getting impatient. The figure came on screen and they were all shocked to see it was Jason. Then at the top of the screen the words ‘Doing this trend with my overprotective best friend’ appeared and now they were very confused. Jason had never mentioned this girl before.

The music stopped and the girl repeated the lyrics “Look at my ass, look at my thighs” as she turned around. But before she could turn around Jason picked her up and carried her off screen before the video ended. 

“What was that?” Dick asked after a few seconds of silence. 

“It’s a trend on tik tok that girls usually do with their boyfriends, but in this case Jason and this girl are just best friends.” Steph answered. 

“How does Jason even know this girl?” Dick pointed out, asking the question that was on all of their minds. Unfortunately, no one, not even Tim, knew the answer. 

Cass then spoke up, “Watch more.” She grabbed Tim’s phone and played another video, however this time it was Jason holding the camera. He came over to the strange girl who looked to be baking something. She looked up at him weirdly, asking something that couldn’t be heard because of the audio playing, luckily they could read lips. 

‘What are you doing?’ She asked

Jason responded with ‘Just listen.’ 

She turned her attention to the camera as the lyrics “That’s my best friend, that’s my best friend” played. Jason was moving to the beat and that seemed to convince the girl to also move to the beat. The song continued with more lyrics playing “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my best friend”. Then suddenly the lyrics “I just fuck her her from time to time” played and the girl whipped out her spoon and started whacking him on the head with it. She was screaming ‘LIES’ just before the video cut out. 

This led to them going on a spree of watching their tik toks. Apparently this was their shared account and both of them had separate accounts they planned to look at later. An hour had passed of them just watching their tik toks before they stumbled upon an intriguing one. The caption was ‘You guys asked for it, so I’ll explain. This is going to be my side of the story.’

It showed Margot, as they had found out her name was, sitting on her bed recording herself painting her nails a blood red as she talked. 

“Ok so you guys have been asking for this for a while so here it is. How I met Jason part one. And Jason will also be doing his side of the story, just so you’re aware, watch that after this. But this also takes place after the whole ‘Hawkmoth and Lila Incident’ so if you haven’t watched that storytime on my personal account, you should probably go do that.” 

One look at each other and they knew they were gonna look at the story afterwards. It was getting too good to leave now.

“So a long time ago I had a venting account on Instagram. Now I had many venting accounts, all with different usernames, including Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, all that good stuff but Instagram is where I met Jason. I posted something about how death could never stop me because I had died by the hands of an akuma before but ladybug’s cure brought me back to life. But then later on in the post I said something about how if this one boy, you all know who he is, couldn’t take a hint then I would rather let death take me than bother living in this mortal realm. Jason ended up seeing the post since we were following each other at the time and DMed me. Now he said and I quote ‘Yo, my username at the time, if you need me to come and beat this guys ass I would be more than happy too. I would gladly let death claim me as well without your shit posts to relate to.’” 

She had tried to make her voice sound deeper and had stopped painting her nails so she could do air quotes. “Looking back on it now, that is such a Jason thing to say, but at the time I was pretty confused and mildly concerned. And time’s up, part two will be posted right now.” 

“Wait, what the heck is an akuma and ladybug’s cure and why did she die from it!?!?!” Dick shouted once the video ended. 

“Dick you don’t know what she’s talking about?” Babs asked in disbelief. 

“Tt, Grayson, and I thought you were one of the smart ones in this family.” Damian scoffed. 

“Does everyone here, but me, know what she's talking about?” Dick questioned, getting yes and nods from everyone in the room.

“Okay Dick,” Tim began, “This is gonna be pretty unbelievable and complicated so I’ll try to explain it as best I can in a short amount of time so we can finish her side of the story before dinner. So while I’m explaining don’t interrupt me.” 

He waited for Dick to nod his head before continuing. “There are jewelry called miraculous that house mini gods that grant powers to whoever has the jewelry. Each miraculous houses a different god thus a different power. Miraculous themselves, including the gods bound to them, are neutral so they can be used for good or evil depending on who wields them. 

Hawkmoth and Mayura used the butterfly and peacock miraculouses for evil purposes and were basically emotional terrorists to the people of Paris. Hawkmoth was able to send out a butterfly with magic to a person feeling negative emotions and manipulate them to do his bidding. These butterflies and villains created by the butterflies were called akumas. If you were or became an akuma you were akumatized. Mayura was able to send out a feather with magic that also used negative emotions to create a monster that aided the akuma. The feathers were called amuks and the monsters were called sentimonsters. 

That was when the heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir also came along and fought Hawkmoth. Ladybug had the ladybug miraculous which granted her the power of lucky charm and miraculous ladybug. Lucky charm gave her an item needed to defeat the akuma and miraculous ladybug reversed all the damage a fight caused. She also had the task of purifying the akuma, turning it back into a butterfly. Chat Noir had the black cat miraculous which granted the power of cataclysm, which made it so he could destroy anything he touched. The 2 worked as a team for around a year before they brought in other temporary heroes who are not that important. Eventually all their temp heroes’ identities were outed and they could no longer use them so they were back to square one. 

However many people noticed that Chat Noir was not taking his job as seriously, he began sitting out battles, flirting with ladybug while there was an akuma, and even getting civilians killed, relying too heavily on ladybug’s cure. We’re not exactly sure what happened, we assumed she snapped because one akuma attack Chat Noir was not there. Instead, there was a whole new team of miraculous wielders including Murder Hornet wielder of the bee miraculous who had the power venom which let her temporarily paralize her opponent, Red Illusion wielder of the fox miraculous who had the power mirage which let him create illusions, Peridot Protector wielder of the turtle miraculous who had the power shelter which allowed him to create indestructible shields, Medusa wielder of the snake miraculous who had the power second chance which allowed her to reset the time line as many times as needed to win the battle, Mustang wielder of the horse miraculous who had the power voyage which let him create portals, and a new black cat holder, Midnight. 

The team took 6 months to defeat Hawkmoth and Mayura, who turned out to be Gabriel Agreste and Natalie Sancour. The Justice League tried to recruit them but they all wanted to live normal lives. Ladybug still checks in every 3-6 months to reassure everyone she still has all the miraculous. I don’t blame them, especially Ladybug, for wanting a normal life. This whole thing started when they were around 13 and ended when they were around 17.”

Tim then clicked on part two of her story, not even waiting for Dick to recover from the huge information dump. 

It was the exact same place she was at in part one, and she was still painting her nails the same shade of blood red. “Okay guys part two of how Jason and I met. If you didn’t watch part one go watch then return to this one. So picking up where we left off I Dmed him back and we ended up having a very long conversation about murder, people not understanding the word no, and spineless cowards. This went on for quite a while of us just messaging each other and eventually we gave each other our emails and then phone numbers. I gave him my phone number just before I moved out of Paris. After like 6 months of texting we planned to meet up at some park in New York that was near the apartment I lived at at the time. Now in hindsight that was a very dumb move on my part so to all the kids watching don’t go meeting up with strangers you meet on the internet. Do as I say not as I did. I almost regretted my decision to meet up with him because he is intimidating as hell! He’s like over 6 foot tall, with muscles the size of my head! I honestly thought that I had put myself in a very bad situation but thankfully he was just as nice in real life like he was over text. We ended up hanging out a lot more and long story short we’re best friends!” 

It was at this point that she looked directly into the camera with a glare that could rival Batman’s, stating, “Literally just best friends to all the people who think shipping us is okay!” And just like that, it was gone, “Anyways see you guys next video, bye!” 

And with that the video ended and the Wayne children, minus Jason obviously, were left wondering how they missed the fact Jason had a female best friend. One where they declared their friendship on the internet nonetheless!

“Well that was certainly something.” Steph commented. 

“Yeah, who knew Jason could have a non hero friend that we didn’t know about.” Tim joked. 

“So are we gonna watch Jason’s part?” Dick asked. 

“I don’t think we have time for that, but we can watch it after dinner.” Tim suggested, “Alfred is probably on his way to get us right now.”

“Tt, what do we do now?” Damian questioned. 

It was then that Cass stole Tim’s phone and started to play a new tik tok. And it showed Margot trying to teach Jason how to do the WAP dance. They were never letting him hear the end of this.

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I am literally so sorry for that huge information dump with the miraculous. I did not expect to get that carried away while writing and by the time I realized it, it was too late and I had to post. Honestly because of how much I wrote I will probably use the miraculous holders names in a future fic, cause I’m lazy. :P Also if you wanna guess their identities feel free to! Anyways tomorrows prompt fic thing will be like a prequel for this one, it’s basically why Marinette now goes by Margot and why she lived/lives in New York. The prompt “Betrayal" will be connected to this as well. :)  Also sorry this was posted so late, I had things to do, that I still need to do...I hate procrastination

@maribatmarch-2k21