#pre-shatter verse

[universalzones]

"Sure are a lot more wanted rebel posters and telegrams lately." Nine's wonder where all these people where coming from, though the rebel group had been growing slowly for years so maybe there were hitting a surge or something.

[red-lion-general]

Meeting a Legend

@thefirsteldenlord

The golden days of the Erdtree... Radahn is very excited. This is the first time Father took him and Rykard along to a visit to Leyndell. And he promised they'd get to explore the city. Taking the Grand Lift was already an adventure, and riding across the Plateau, with the Erdtree's majestic glow lighting the way, even after dark, felt magical.

But all that pales in comparison to the city itself, golden and beautiful, filled with the realm's finest knights. Father tells them to wait in an antechamber while he has his audience with the Queen. Perhaps later he can introduce them too, when the official business is concluded.

Don't wander off, they were told, but Radahn only had to get distracted for a moment, staring at a Crucible Knight across the street, and Rykard already ran off somewhere. "Brother! Where didst thou go?" He doesn't have much choice but to go look for him. They are going to be in trouble, he can feel it...

[nazorneku]

MALENIA ( @scarletrotted ) INQUIRED OF ESTINIEN: "why did you do that?"

Upon the towering rampart he stood, observing the golden Capital and its people, hurriedly scattering around, guided by own plans and intentions, would be not unlike to draconians such as the man. Everyone was in possession of their purpose, utilized by own capabilities. Yet not long ago the savage war raged within these lands, sparing no eldery or children, traces of which scarred the land and now still the stone body of its fervent vanguard adorned Leyndell. Oft his solitude remained uninterrupted, yet not less frequently the scarlet fury made an appearance, prompting the conversation with the knight of the foreign nation.

Head turned slightly to greet the female, a rather ambiguous inquiry spawned numerous assumptions on his mind, yet none appeared apparent as the matter of the recently forged truce and Order to commemorate peace between dragon and men. A sigh slipped in between his lips, a steel-blue gaze anew was directed at the remains of the great wyrm Gransax, a bitter reminder of the days gone. "Fortissax placed trust in your people. 'Tis a worthy notion. Though few of us still remain, we will honor the pact." Estinien was amongst those very few draconians who joined the golden Knights, an agreeable gesture to accentuate the importance of their newfound relationship.

&. action-themed prompts         ||          accepting  

[tyranthand]

tags!

[ GORTASH'S ANTI-ANXIETY COAT. ] > ooc. [ ALL OUT OF BLESSINGS. ] > ooc answers. [ GAMES. ] > memes. [ ANNOTATIONS. ] > headcanon. [ LOOT. ] > saved. [ PROPAGANDA. ] > promo.

[ FLESH AND METAL. ] > musings. [ THE BLACK HAND OF BANE. ] > self. [ SOUND OF MACHINERY. ] > music. [ I AM THE WILLING VICTIM OF A CANNIBAL. ] bloodbaptized. [ A CORONATION. ] > answers.

[ VERSE: A SHATTERED CROWN. ] > bg3. [ VERSE: AND EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE WILL DIE SOON. ] > pre bg3. [ VERSE: WHERE I END AND YOU BEGIN. ] [ VERSE: FRESH OUTTA HELL. ] > youth. [ VERSE: TOO SMART FOR HIS AGE. ] > childhood. [ VERSE: THE MECHANICAL EYE. ] > tma.

[abyssembraced]

Aversa's mention of an ‘Exaltling’ was lost on him, but Papyrus could respect her confidence in her abilities! He too fancied himself a master of his own magic. He had honed his powers extremely well, able to keep such a tight control over it that he could cause his attacks to deal a highly specific amount of harm to their target. Among other things! Truly Royal Guard material, if you asked him!

“HAVE NO FEAR! THEY DON'T CALL ME THE GREAT PAPYRUS FOR NOTHING!” No matter how insistent the pegasus might be on not being befriended, he would be persistenter! As persistentest as he needed to be until he won her over!! That was what worked for Undyne, after all! “I'M VERY SKILLED AT NOT DYING.” So skilled at it that it's never happened even once!

Blissfully unaware of the human's... potentially murder-y temptations, Papyrus responded to her slew of questions with his usual enthusiasm.

“MONSTERS ARE MADE ALMOST ENTIRELY OF MAGIC! REMOVING A BODY PART... PROBABLY WOULD NOT BE GOOD I THINK.” He didn't remember ever experiencing such a thing before, so he wasn't entirely certain what would happen. And if he was being honest, he didn't particularly want to find out! Separating a limb from his body and thus severing its connection to his SOUL... Seemed like a Very Not Good idea.

“BUT IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR A DEMONSTRATION OF MY MAGIC, THEN WHO AM I TO REFUSE SUCH A CURIOUS SOUL?”

Papyrus struck a very cool pose, and right at that moment, five massive bones burst out from within the earth behind the skeleton. The attacks even towered slightly over their summoner (who was incredibly tall by human standards himself).

While not leaving his pose just yet, Papyrus opened one eye to steal a glance at Aversa's expression and gauge her reaction. Was she impressed? He hoped so!!! 

After another moment, Papyrus dismissed the attacks, and the bones vanished into thin air. He brought his hands to his hips, and laughed, “NYEH HEH HEH! WHAT DO YOU THINK?” She thought he was cool, right?

Then, he stepped forward, with his fist outstretched toward Aversa. Another bone formed in his enclosed hand, its ends peeking out from the sides. It was significantly smaller than the attacks from his earlier demonstration (thus making it a much more manageable size), and took on a golden hue, rather than the white of the previous bones.

“AND THIS... IS MY GIFT TO YOU!!” Papyrus turned his hand so that his palm faced upward and then opened it, allowing Aversa to take the bone. He held no malice in mind while forming the object, so it wouldn't cause any pain to the human if she touched it. He poured extra magic into it to ensure that it would last a long time, too! Plus that meant it had enough magic in it to exist independent of his concentration.

"I wouldn't say the mindless undead are totally at a loss. They were a great tool in war, when I was fighting on the wrong side. The little exaltling would never allow such a strategy however, should the mass go rogue the people at risk and all that valiance..." not looking so great for her innocence in town there. "As if I'd ever let my control slip. Honestly." ok then. We love a confident woman?

Papyrus' attempts at thinking 'nice' would win Raven though... That's a laugh. "I won't stop you, but don't cry to me if she kicks you apart and you got to reassemble or something. Her being Ornery is exactly why i love her. Neither of us will get tamed that easily." the timing of that snort could practically be an agreement. "Actually, on that note, are you able to detach your bones at will? what is holding you together, physically?" She waned to get in there and start poking prodding... Frankly, she could. No one of importance would know.

Probably.

Then again, implementing any discoveries done the wrong way would lead to explanations being needed and she wasn't the only plegian dark mage with the shephards. someone would pick up on her smoothed out explanation for hurting this innocent skeleton. Ha. innocent skeleton. what a thought.

"Actually, before doing anything else It's best I know more or less how you tick in general. Dark magic is already fickle with humans, which i know Intimately, so experimenting with a preexisting anomaly needs to be done carefully. Aside from a living skeleton, what are you? The proportions of your skull for instance imply something other then a human origin to your bones. Are you capable of any magic yourself, other then whatever magic is holding you together? Things like that."

"Unless you'd like me to be reckless and risk losing one of your ribs or something." Why did she say that last part with such an amused smile?

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW

W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements

A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 

He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 

“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.

“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 

“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.

“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 

“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 

“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 

“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 

Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 

Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 

“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”

Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 

“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 

(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)

But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 

Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 

Much like today.

(Much like the days before and after.)

You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 

A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 

He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 

“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 

“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”

You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 

“Denied.”

“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”

“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 

You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 

“Are you laughing?”

You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 

“No.” 

You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 

Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–

Oh? 

Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 

You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.

“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 

You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 

We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 

It's coming from him, then. Hm. 

“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.

And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 

“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 

Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?

Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 

“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”

Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–

“How?” 

–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 

He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 

The first time he let you go, he left scars. 

He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 

Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 

Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 

So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  

You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.

And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 

The hours blurred together. 

Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 

Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.

It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 

Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 

Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 

Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.

Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–

Rip.

Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 

“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  

“You know how this ends.” 

His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 

Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 

He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 

Unsightly.

Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 

Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 

He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 

“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.

“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”

“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 

The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 

A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 

He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 

“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 

“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 

Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 

Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 

He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 

“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 

“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 

Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 

“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 

“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 

His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 

“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”

Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 

You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 

He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 

“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 

“You are.” 

That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 

But it didn't click. 

“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 

“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 

He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 

You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 

“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 

Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.

"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net

[universalzones]

@roguesofbabylon

"AHHHHHHHHH!" Nine's is currently screaming after having been transported into the air after an experiment went horribly wrong and this was certainly a worse case scenario if he every saw own.

Of course the fox didn't get time to formulate any thought or plan before landing face first into what he could've sworn was a blimp of some kind. Thankfully he didn't bounce off as he was basically already over it so it was a short fall.

Nine would push himself up a bit, not wanting to risk standing up and be thrown off as while he can fly with his two tails it was only for a short amount of time. "Okay, that could've gone better, though at least I'm alive. Just gonna find out where I am." The fox would then turn his attention to the sky, though was surprised to see it was blue and clear. Much different than the dark and red skies he was used to. "This isn't normal." At least not his kind of normal.

[howtotrainabraincell]

Head cannon bc I can - The Assassin's belief in spooky stuff

A/N: In 3-month pre-honor of Spooky time (which is the best time) I'm gonna write a drabble about how I think certain assassin's would react to spooky stuff like ghosts, wendigos, vampires, etc. Thought it would be funny.

Ezio Auditore - He grew up religious so probably has that faith over fear mindset despite what he believes later on in life through being an assassin/meeting the garden tool known as juno (who doesn't get her name capitalized bc I don't like her lol). I mean exhibit A: This Florentine man just jumps off of a very high building and nails a superhero landing. The FAITH that this man had in his KNEECAPS to NOT SHATTER over the FEAR of his (very nice) legs snapping in half like pocky sticks. I mean COME.ONNNN. WILL LEGIT PERFORM AN EXORCISM IF HE GETS SPOOKED. He'll speak in Latin reciting Bible verses, he'll bust out the Holy Water and get the rosary, the whole shebang. He thinks that vampires are lowkey cheesy but is flattered when people think that he's one (because of the sexy factor around the bloodsuckers ya know) because they think he's HAWT. Wendigos freak him out because WHY DO THEY MOVE SO FAST?! He also does NOT mess with ouija boards and refuses to even be in the same room as one, cause the man's not trying to have the dang spirits of the borgias come after him again (cesare was annoying enough the first time, okay?). Werewolves? He's indifferent to. He likes dogs, he likes people (MOST of them), so long they don't bite him (too hard *wink wink*) that's all he cares about.

Altair Ibn La'Ahad - Vampires? Meh. They better stay away from him and his love or they'll get a fang omelet. Werewolves? So long as they don't have fleas or parasites, he doesn't see them as a problem. Altair does NOT believe in ghosts, and he is NOT amused when the others try to scare him and make him paranoid of the "other side" ooooo. He thinks it's all bullshlatta haha. However, when he's been smoking hashish...it's a different story. This cannabis product has a THC concentration of 5-15% so man is getting into the kite territory lol. He WILL get paranoid, and he WILL think that ghosts are on the front lawn PARTICULARLY the ghosts of French and English soldiers that he's fought. Will go get his love if she's there and pull her into his lap muttering in Arabic about "Stupid ghosts of the fallen. Not touching my woman." He'll beat Jacob's ass for moving the ouija board around and scaring the others but mostly because he didn't see Jacob, he just saw a big black blob coming at him and swung. He will also once again beat Jacob's ass for trying to scare him while pretending to be a ghost wrapped up in a bedsheet. Just picture him trying to strangle the poor top hat wearing British boy while Desmond and Evie try to talk him down and Altair's love gently tries to pry him off.

Love: (laughing softly as she pulls at his arms) Altair Habibi don't hurt him it was just a prank.

Altair: (yelling in Arabic) He's a ghost! I don't need any more of them in my life!

Desmond: Guys come on don't fight again.

Evie: (trying not to laugh) Uhh Mentor if you could kindly not strangle my dear brother to death, I would be grateful.

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway - Being Native American he has been privy to myths and legends of mysterious beasts and malevolent spirits. The one that freaked him out the most as a little boy however was the myth about the wendigo. A myth that one if his tribe's elders had picked up from an Algonquian traveler passing through Boston. An insatiable beast created from humans and the hunger felt by them in desperate times with little to no food. He has heard multiple legends ranging from the spirit possessing those who are without food and influencing them to consume their fellow humans in cannibalistic practices, to the wendigo being a demon that possesses people for unknown reasons. How the beast is allegedly 15 feet tall, can wind walk, is extremely intelligent, and stores it's victims for food storage eating them at its leisure. But imo he's not afraid of them because think about. Connor vs a wendigo? I feel sorry for that wendigo lol. Man has fought bears, cougars, mountain lions, defied gravity, taken on an entire army and held up the middle finger to cannonballs meant to send him to his Maker. Requiescat In Pace to that wendigo haha. Vampires are lame to him he does not see the appeal, but he does find their teeth funny. (He has been exposed to a wide variety of different teeth via animals that he's hunted, but creatures that look human who have teeth like animals is funny to him).

Jacob Frye - Tell.me.WHY I just KNOW that Jacob would so totally take out the ouija board and put it in random places to scare the others lol. This would lead to Evie playing detective and staying up all night to find out what was going on, only to find that her baby brother is trolling everyone. Needless to say, Jacob's ears get boxed. He likes to play around and goof off about ghosts lurking about, but being serious he does not believe in them. Nor does he believe in contact with those who are passed on. He thinks that a place can carry bad things that have happened there, and the aura can be off, he believes the same with people as well. He could sense Starrick's craziness all the way in Crawley... It goes without saying that Jacob DEFINITELY believes in mental illness. He'd probably try to fight a werewolf to test his strength. And a vampire too. Would also probably carry treats for werewolves if he knew any and give it to them in their wolf form lol. Once the fight commences (and his inevitable loss follows) Jacob would ABSOLUTELY try to recruit them into the Rooks. He could use as many members as possible to say nothing of those with supernatural abilities. Would TOTALLY flip his flat cap over a vampire's ability to heal quickly. Like he would pull his signature Frye arm break and the vampire's arm would just *pop!* right back into place. He would lowkey be jealous because if he could do that think about how many fights he could win!

Evie Frye - DEFINITELY think that she would wonder if vampires were out there and she would be SO EXCITED if she met one. She would want to pick their brain about their experiences and hear the stories of however many lifetimes they have lived. In the game she is somewhat interested in the other side and the occult so she might dip her toes into the crystal ball and ouija board territory. She does it maybe once or twice and then quite because she doesn't get results from it (plus Jacob won't stop playing with the planchette piece using it as a monocle). She didn't like the ouija board because the rules of "Don't play alone" both annoyed her and made her weary. She would rather play alone due to the nature of serious questions she would ask about the afterlife (I honestly kinda think that she might try to make contact with her father through the ouija board but would be deterred when she heard that it could possibly be demons instead of her loved one). She's not really superstitious but she does take rules (within reason) seriously (and she tries not to break them if Jacob can behave himself lol). She has contacts everywhere and then some so hearing things through the grapevine she eventually hears the good old "things can get attached to you and follow you around" when messing around with supernatural things. This made her completely drop contacting the other side because this poor woman is already harassed by and followed by Blighters and Templars 24/7 365, okay? She doesn't need any ghosties or demons following her too. She finds the concept of the wendigo fascinating but has no plans to hunt one (unlike Jacob). The idea of werewolves makes her cringe because while she likes dogs the hearsay about werewolves having painful bone breaking transitions from human to wolf, disturbs her and fills her with sympathy for anyone who is one.

Arno Dorian - Ghosts? What ghosts? You mean the ones that haunt him on a daily basis? The ones that haunt him in his dreams? The ghosts of choices he didn't make, mistakes he made and regrets he has? Arno isn't afraid of ghosts. Not at all. Is interested in the anatomy of werewolves but is concerned about if they have parasites and fleas. (It is my own personal cannon that after the events of Unity a stray cat started harassing him like "Hey drunk sad human feed me". Eventually this led to Arno adopting the little furball). He thinks that wendigos are nothing special because they just remind him of customers at the Cafe Theatre hopped up on caffeine, he just stands there and is like "Madame/Monsieur calme-toi. Vous faites une scene." (Calm down. You're making a scene.) Doesn't put much stock in mummies but he is fascinated by the history of Ancient Egypt and their burial practices, he admires how so much care was put into their final goodbyes. People do in fact think that he is a vampire because look at him...I'll wait...enough said. He has the timeless sexiness of a vampire not to mention it just...suits him? He finds it amusing nonetheless and is actually flattered to be considered a "seductive master of the night". Werewolves he would just give them treats from the Cafe in hopes that they wouldn't bite him (Mademoiselle Whiskers - his cannon kitty - love bites him enough lol).

Bayek of Siwa - Somewhat accustomed to ghosts actually seeing as he is well acquainted with the Duat and members of the dead. He does take them there and deliver them to Anubis after all. Not afraid of them but does not want them to invade his personal life especially if they're the ghosts of the members of the order. (Man fought so hard to kill them all and then he might have to deal with them haunting him? No thank you. He's had enough.) CAN and WILL knock a vampires fangs out of their head if one ever tried to bite him because one: RUDE and two: he's not trying to catch immortality. He wants to go to the afterlife one day and I think we all know why. But besides that, he also has almost been bitten on numerous occasions by snakes, hippos, crocodiles, and even hyenas. Senu has NEVER bitten him (I refuse to believe that she even gives him love bites just lots of wing hugs, beak nuzzles, and she sees him as the sweet baby that he is so she cleans him like one lol). He gets a kick out of hollywood mummies and actually likes Boris Karloff in The Mummy, but all of the powers and curses and people being terrified of a dead body wrapped in linen strips gives him a little chuckle. He finds it quite silly to be honest. This man sees werewolves as big dogs and would probably befriend all of them because he seems like EXACTLY the type of man who has THE GIFT (aka the talent to befriend all animals). Man is a certified Egyptian Disney princess that Disney has denied us.

Desmond Miles - Man LOVES 80's horror change my mind but he does. That and 80's music so I'm not convinced that he'll scare easy. Not to mention the kind of life he lives as an assassin being in constant danger and living in paranoia with a lovely sauce of constantly looking over his shoulder (this poor baby I swear). Werewolves are cool to him because he loves dogs. Have a feeling that when Halloween rolls around, he busts out the old classics such as The Wolf Man with Lon Chaney (The Birds, Dracula, Abbott and Costello, etc). Vampires are cheesy but don't you DARE tell me that this man has not attempted to do the Dracula accent because he HAS. He's probably even binged vampire diaries (well what he could before ubisoft pulled a bitch move) and it's possible that he's even dressed up as a vampire too lol. His girlfriend lost her mind when he tried to kiss her with fake fangs in but they fell off making him a one toothed vampire lol. Ghosts aren't scary too him at all I mean...have you seen what he went through with the Bleeding Effect? Ain't no way he's phased by ANY kind of ghost that tries to do a little spooky brew haha to him. He'll just stand there exhausted with a cup of coffee as one tries to scare him and be like: "Great. What else is new?" Depending on which ancestor of his he's bleeding through the Bleeding Effect his reactions are a mixture of his own Desmond reaction and whoever he's bleeding.

[adiluv-moved]

omg omg going off your obsessed scara can you imagine how he'd react if you got with somebody???? boy would go crazy

❥ 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍. ˚⊹꒷

a continuation of this post.

796 words. modern au, obsessive fan behavior, stalking, suggestive, reader is not traveler, not edited.

superfan scaramouche who is initially ecstatic when your group's official accounts announce an upcoming tour within inazuma, hours that he could've—should've spend asleep instead being dedicated to scouring your accounts for venue announcements and pre-sale dates. he goes into a frenzy once the information drops, pulling all-nighters in order to secure tickets at every one of the concerts.

superfan scaramouche who has, as mentioned previously, seen you in person before—attending previous performances both within his home nation and travelling abroad to attend the tours that weren't. but, archons, he just can't control his excitement when it comes to you, having him acting as if it were his first concert.

the chance of seeing his favorite idol while going about his day-to-day, encountering you at all his favorite spots in the city, the possibility of something romantic... his delusional little mind just can't help but jump at it!

superfan scaramouche who personally visits each and every large hotel within inazuma city, convincing ꒰manipulating꒱ them into providing any information they have about exactly where you and your groupmates will be staying. he'll make sure that you, specifically, have the best room in the entire building—anonymously shelling out his own money for sake of upgrading you and you alone.

superfan scaramouche who lurks around your hotel in the same baggy clothing he'd used to disguise himself whilst meeting you, an ominous presence hidden in the crowd that can't help but unsettle you during attempts to go sightseeing before your first show. your nervous expressions are even more intoxicating in the snapshots he takes of you, tucked away in a corner of his room for personal viewing.

superfan scaramouche who has his delusions unceremoniously shattered when his lurking leads him into a bar, eyes wide as saucers and mouth agape as he watches you converse and—and kiss another man that approaches you! despite the stabbing feeling within his chest, he's left totally unable to act as the both of you—intoxicated—stumble out the doors, instead rushing home in tears and on the verge of a mental breakdown. he... doesn't sleep that night.

superfan scaramouche who eventually manages to convince himself that your betrayal is really nothing more than a one-night stand. after all, you certainly couldn't have been in your right mind꒰!꒱ allowing such an... insignificant pest to whisk you away. surely, you must've come to your senses by morning, felt so ashamed by your low standards that you'd come shamefully crawling back to your room.

... only to be proven wrong as he catches you sneaking out during the evening, face hidden beneath an oversized hoodie as you went to go entertain that miscreant yet again. he's in far worse spirits when he returns home, tearing his room apart and destroying half of his merch collection before coming to his senses.

superfan scaramouche who comes to regard this affair of yours as a mistake, even if you aren't exactly aware of it yet. nothing but a mar, if you will, on the perfection that comprises your very being. he's well versed in the dramas of the idol industry, knows well that agencies often exert total control over the lives of their idols. living beneath a ceo's thumb must get exhausting, he decides, a justifiable line of reasoning for this... act of rebellion. it's that worm's fault, really. taking advantage of somebody sweet as you—capitalizing on your naïvety.

superfan scaramouche who, as much as he doesn't want to, believes that there's merit in alerting your supervisors to your rendezvous. actions packaged under the guise of innocent concern, he emails photos of the two of you to your manager—intently eavesdropping on the commotion coming from the hotel that night. you cry until the early hours of morning, his heart aching with each muffled sob.

still, he feels no remorse for his actions, deeming your pain a necessary form of suffering. just like icarus, who flew too close to the sun, you too must learn not to play with fire—to avoid being burnt and falling from the sky.

superfan scaramouche who approaches you during one of your ꒰far more limited꒱ moments of downtime, pointing out the saddened look in your eyes and offering comfort when you vaguely detail your grievances. although there's something familiar about him and the words of praise that slip past his lips, the amount of fans you meet on a daily basis makes it impossible to place the connection—so you instead turn a blind eye and indulge in his comfort. he allows you to weep on his shoulder until your satisfied, the fabric moistened by your tears... revisited later that day.

"shh, shh... i know it hurts now, but really... this was all for the best."

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[foggysirens]

If Destiel (yes the ship) got tossed into the Star Wars universe, which one of them is naive enough to accidentally join the dark side and why is it Cas?

love how you had to specify the ship ajdhdhdkjf that absolutely made me laugh so hard

but okay so this set my brain on fire because you’re so very right in the respect that if we were to plop spn characters into the star wars verse it does, from a narrative point of view make the most sense for cas to be part of the dark side - the only thing is that i don’t think it would be because he naively joined, cas would been conscripted

castiels arc in supernatural of being an angel of the lord who falls from the armies of heaven and grace after finding himself embroiled in with humanity is none too dissimilar from the character arc that finn goes on in the last jedi - they have both found themselves raised to be soldiers, to take orders and to not ask questions and fight in the name of the order they serve. this is all they have ever know but suddenly in the midst of the battle between good and evil they are suddenly unsure if what they’re fighting for is right anymore. and once they know, once they see things for what they truly are, they fall. crossing lines to try and take a stand for what they believe they must, even if it takes them a while to get there. because they both see the good in what they were told to destroy, want to save and protect and love instead. this arc also follows a lot of the same beats as agent kallus from star wars rebels!! thinking on it i would say in a lot of ways cas is a lot more like kallus - what with their the military rankings and training experience and overall demeanour - and i can see him having a similar career in/path out of the empire as him. the arc still stands. cause yeah, the ‘imperial officer turned rebel’ is a reoccurring theme in star wars!

so if we look at that and then we look at castiel, a character who is, admittedly, naive at times, his character fits so perfectly into star wars into that role as someone who was brought up and trained under this regime but ultimately rebels once that illusion is shattered and the free will to change has been realized and (while not diminishing the internal character work that this entails) a lot of the time there is that one focal person who extended the hand in the first place - who gave them that wake up that acts as the foil in this arc (think poe and rey and zeb) and in this au’s case it absolutely would be dean because he’s who it is in spn canon for cas as well !!! (and like, come on, dean fits the han solo bill of being the scruffy hero with a soft heart so well, and he absolutely joined the rebellion with his ancient but pristine pre-empire ship that they use to run jobs and spy on the empire while posing as different officials)

like, im so sure that there already must be so many amazing fics out there that are about just this because the spn/cas/destiel beats parallel so perfectly with star wars that i could talk about it forever !!! they would find each other in every universe !!!

anyways yeah sorry that was so long but TLDR; yeah cas starts out apart of the empire but then he sees dean winchesters pathetic face and joins the rebellion

[theconstantsidekick]

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (8) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Angsty McAngsterson!

Summary: Rhodey's down for the count, and Romanoff and Y/n are the ones to be blamed. If they'd just listened to Tony, none of this would have happened.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma

a/n: this took me a grand total of two fucking months

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (7) | Captain America:Civil War ft. Static (9) | Series Masterlist | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

He turns at the sound of the door to the observation area slamming open. But in all honesty, he feels her before he even hears her. 

“How is he?” She asks. A question thrown out into the air, addressed to no one but born of worry and desperation. She’ll take whatever she can get. He can tell—so will he.

Guilt, however, is an unfearing emotion. 

He doesn’t answer. He stares at her.

He stares at her, and he stares at Romanoff who’s shouldering her weight. He stares at his sister, desperate and pleading and all he wants to do is tell her to fuck off.

Instead he drags both women outside, out of sight, to a balcony.

“The doctors say he shattered L4 through S1. Extreme laceration in the spinal cord,” Tony replies, finally. “Probably looking at some form of paralysis.”

“Fuck,” Y/n whispers. It sounds almost involuntary, like it spilled out of her mouth without thought. Like she barely realizes that she’s said it. But then maybe the sound of her own words hit her cause inhales abruptly and screams out, “FUCK!” She’s grabbing at her hair, barely able to contain herself from pulling them out. She’s pacing up and down the frankly modest stretch of the balcony.

“Y/n!” Romanoff shushes her. She doesn’t want them to get noticed, they cannot risk standing out. They already have a target on their back, Tony knows cause he’s the one who put it there.

The rebuke, however, falls on deaf ears. Y/n seems too engrossed in her journey of self-deprecation to even notice Romanoff, let alone her plea to quiet down.

In any other fucking moment Tony would’ve felt like an absolute fucking dickwad about it but in this one?

Well, let’s just say, he’s unfearing.

“Fuck indeed, Stark!” He bites back. He watches her steps halt and her jaw clench. Her eyes shut at his tone, her head jerking away at the crudeness in it. She even takes a step back, holding on to the railings, trying to keep herself tied to the present. Tony, though, carries on without fear, “None of this would have ever happened if it wasn’t for you.” Pointing at her, he adds, “It’s all your fucking fault!”

“I know,” she replies in a small voice. “I know,” she hits herself over the head, regret laid bare in her every action. “I should have… I should have calculated better, worked faster, tried harder to slow his momentum.” She’s rambling. “I tried to—I tried to do it in my realm, but I’m not used to that place. I should have been able to control him but I barely take anyone in there. I just… Lack of practice. I was so afraid of my powers I never… I never thought I could use it to help people so I never… I didn’t…”

Fuck.

He can’t take this anymore. “I meant siding with Steve.”

That seems to shake something awake in her. “For fuck’s sake, Anthony. Were you always this conceited or did I punch you a little too hard during drills?”

“That would make this your fault too.”

Y/n smiles then.

Just like that. There she is. 

That’s his sister, Y/n Stark who’s always been synonymous to the word ‘unbreakable’ in his dictionary.

He sees her shift from being absolutely lost to something very close to livid.

She doesn’t need to hold on to the rails anymore. She stands up straight, meeting him eye to eye—her determination is back.

Tony has to adamantly remind himself that he is not going to regret his words.

She smiles and he can see Romanoff step away from the siblings—she’s the only team member who’s spent enough time with them to know to let the Stark siblings fight it out amongst themselves.

“Maybe you are Howie’s son after all, huh?” The words fall out of her mouth all twisted and angry, coated in venom. Before Tony can retort, she continues, “You wanted to lock us up to find a way to feel less shity about the fact that you created the fucking Terminator. Well, guess what? You’re on your own, kid. I’m not walking the plank for you. Not this one!”

“Oh fuck off!” Tony rebukes, cause when the fuck will his sister get off her high horse? “I never asked you to do that! I’ve never fucking asked you to sacrifice anything for me.” 

Y/n straight up laughs at him—mocking and cold. “Yes, yes. And Tony Stark isn’t Iron Man. it’s just a machine playing at being a bodyguard.”

“I never—”

“Tony, you might not have said the words but you knew damn well what you were signing me up for the moment you told the world you’re Iron Man,” she tells him. “You’ve never had to ask me to do anything for you but that’s simply because you didn’t fucking have to.”

“That’s completely unfair. Being Iron Man was my thing!” He beats his chest, “Mine.” Walking closer to her, “You shoved yourself into this gig because you just presumed I wouldn’t be good at it.”

She chuckles, hollow and unkind. “If you want to pretend that the bullshit you’re spewing makes sense, I’ll let you fucking continue but do not fool yourself into thinking you’re some undefeatable hero.”

Tony takes another step towards her. “I don’t think I am undefeatable! I just know I am more than capable of holding my own.”

“Yeah. ‘Course. That why you sporting that busted lip?”

It’s a taunt through and through. The lip’s bust cause she landed a (frankly—and Tony would deny it till the day he dies—damn near artistic) blow straight to his face. He’d provoked her to do it—thrown the first punch and then taunted the shit out of her. All this while knowing full-well she was completely on the defensive. 

She loves them all too much. 

The Avengers are the closest thing she has to a family, he knew she wasn’t going to lift a finger unless he made her. So he may have said a few colorful things, itching for a fight. 

And now, he’s getting it.

“You proud?” He strikes back—he’s never been to back down from a fight. Why start now? He’s going to meet her punch for punch, word for word. He is not in the mood to lose any more today. He doesn’t have the luxury. He backs down now, it was all moot.

“Excuse me?” Y/n asks, all her previous cockiness gone.

“I asked if you were proud of it? I mean, you must be. It was a good hit.” The tone’s so harsh he throws himself off too. He knows—well, he’s consciously aware of the fact that he is the one speaking the words but they sound distant. As if he’s just a passive listener as the whole scene unfolds.

But he isn’t.

“Tony! That’s not fair!” Romanoff speaks out, clearly shocked at Tony’s insolence.

Makes two of us, he thinks.

“What’s not fair is that my sister, my best friend, the one person in this whole fucking world who was supposed to always, always be on my side, is siding with her perky blond boytoy,” he exclaims, heartbroken. Because could this shit be any worse? No, seriously, could anything be worse than this?

He’s been repeating himself, shouting himself hoarse and he knows it seems like he’s overreacting—like he’s blowing this all out of proportion. But he is not. You have to understand that while he’s had the most extravagant upbringing, he’s always been comfortable and well off, he’s been alone for most of it. His father was—well, his father was Howard Stark. And his mother, God bless her, couldn't bridge the gap between him and his father no matter how hard she tried. Despite that he cherished it—having them—even in this broken way, he really did love his parents. Then he lost them. Both of them, together in one fell swoop.

Then there was that bitch Obediah. 

We don’t talk about that bitch Obediah.

Tony was too fucking smart for most of the people he’d met, no one could keep up. Some were jealous, while others just wanted to get closer to him to bask in his limelight. All of them, all his interactions throughout his life were always… transactional. He was always alone.

Except her.

Y/n came to pick him up from school, not because Mom or Dad had asked her to. Nope. She came to pick him up so she could take him to Chinatown and have spring rolls. If Tony ever asked her why she’d pick him to go along with her, her answer was always a confused look and annoyed string of words asking him, ‘why would I take anyone else?’

And the question was always, always genuine. Because Tony was her bestest friend in the whole fucking world.

Now, think about it. How would you react if your best friend sided with Steve ‘Golden Boy’ Rogers?

“Fuck you, man. I know you think you’re the center of the universe but you’re not. I’m not siding with him!” Y/n bites back, angry and overwrought.

But that’s not his point. She’s missing the fucking point. “You’re not siding with ME either!”

Her head falls then. “Tony,” she exhales heavily, hands on her hips. She’s wearing the tattered up remains of her clothes from the fight. If he looks for it hard enough, he can see her exhaustion, almost feel it. Even as she speaks, the fight’s leaving her, he can see that too. “I spent my entire life running away from this. I cannot go back. You don’t understand because it’s not the same for you…” He’s never seen her this… this jaded.

He can’t afford to get distracted.

“Because I haven’t had shit hauled at me?” Tony challenges, undeterred and unwilling to move even an inch. He may not have gone through what she has but he’s had his own share of shitty fucking experiences.

“I am not saying that, Tones. I’m not. I’m just saying it’s different for you than it is for us,” she explains, her tone patient and sympathetic.

“She’s right, Tony,” Romanoff cuts in. “We’re not downplaying your experiences, we’re not trying to take away from it. We’re just saying it impacts us differently than it does you. We have lived very… different lives.”

“We’re a little wary of ‘organizations’ insisting on controlling our actions,” Y/n surmises. 

What comes next is not one of his best moments.

It’s not something people will talk about in his greatest hits. Nope. Never. It will, however, make the top-three-dumbest-shit-Tony Stark-ever-did list. Fuck—Tony will look back on this moment for years to come. He’ll come back to it time and again, think and then rethink his words. He’ll spend night upon nights, sleepless and disturbed—knowing that he fucked up here. He’ll know that this was where he fucked up. His words won’t be held against him, no. Not by her, never by her. But he’ll still know it was the most horrible thing he could say.

But Tony doesn’t know that yet.

He doesn’t know that yet because guilt is an unfearing emotion.

“Aren’t you a little tired of this schtick?” Tony asks, cocking his head with a cruel, hollow smile. “Aren’t just a little bit tired of using that same old fucking sob story for every single decision you ever make in your godforsaken life?” He looks around, chuckling at the thought. It’s a chilling sound. “At some point you’d have to stop milking that shit, don’t you think?”

It’s only when he finally looks at her that he realizes he’s fucked up.

Her face is hard—harder than stone. There’s a fury in her eyes he’s never seen there before, even for her enemies. He’s never seen that look on her face in his entire life. It sends a chill down his spine. 

When she speaks, her words are low but prominent. “My trauma is not for you to use as a punchline for your baseless argument.” They leave no room for an argument anymore. They leave no room for anything but shitting your fucking pants. 

He overstepped.

Big time.

Fuck.

“Tony,” Romanoff cuts in, clearly able to sense that this discussion could lead to bloodshed. “I’d suggest you take a step back.” Her eyes are pleading him to be more cautious with his words. “Think before you speak.”

“I—” He doesn’t know what to say. He clenches his fists. Trying and failing to gather his thoughts.

The pause that hangs in the air is so heavy it’s almost painful. He thinks maybe it’ll never end.

But it has to. 

“I get that you’re scared but what happened before won’t happen again. This isn’t like Madripoor. You’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it. And, I mean, com one, you might not trust the Accords yet but you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. right? So why not give this a shot too?” Tony questions in a softer voice, but his desperation persists.

“Because S.H.I.E.L.D. was mine,” Y/n insists. “It was mine and Peggy’s and Howard’s, and Colonel Phillips’. We found it, Tony. It was my home.”

“I didn’t know you founded S.H.I.E.L.D.” Romanoff notes, almost sounding bewildered. 

Maybe she sounds bewildered, could easily be any other emotion in the book cause Tony, even after all these years, has made no progress on being able to read the former spy. 

“I didn’t want to be on the books, I preferred my life off the grid,” She informs her. And the strain in her words doesn’t hurt Tony at all. It doesn’t sting. Of course not. Nope. “We made it for people like me, to protect them, help them.” She sounds like she’s reminiscing. It somehow rubs him the wrong way.

“And yet, you left that too…” Tony comments, disparaging and snide.

“I had my reasons,” Y/n provides, and just like every other time she’s mentioned it, there is a hesitance in her words. 

“Yeah! You keep saying that, and I have no clue what the fuck this elusive reason is.” He has never pressed her on it before, but well, considering all this newly spilled bad blood, why not push his luck just a little bit further? “You told me about all your missions gone wrong, even your run-ins with the Winter fucking Soldier, and it wasn’t any of that. So what possible reason could you have for quitting an organization that you created to protect yourself?” 

“Do we have to talk about this?” She asks, annoyed.

“Yes. You always feed me the same bullshit about how you just had to leave S.H.I.E.L.D. that you couldn’t trust them anymore, that it was the necessary choice but whenever I ask why, all you do is blame Hank Pym’s fucking haircut.” Tony’s anger comes back to him again, picking up right where it’d left off. “You bail at the fucking sight of a regulatory body, why the fuck is that?”

“Because Tony! I couldn’t trust them anymore!”

“And we’re back here again,” he takes a step to her. “WHY NOT?!”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. WAS TESTING MY BLOOD!” She yells out, shutting him up completely. “Without my knowledge,” she adds much quieter.

“No…” It can’t be. “No. Dad—Dad wouldn’t let that happen,” Tony tries to argue. He can’t be sure though, he didn’t know his father well enough to bet his life on it. But he wouldn’t have let it happen. He wouldn’t.

“He’s the one who was running the tests.” 

For anyone following along, Tony’s heart hasn’t been doing well since he got abducted by his own fucking father figure, but this somehow seems to break his heart all-together. He never saw that coming.

Romanoff seems to be just as surprised as him, ‘cause she looks pale and remains absolutely mute.

Y/n is the one who talks then, trying to cut through the silence. “He… He was worried. He thought if he understood my powers, he’d be able to help me. And, I mean, can you blame the guy? You house this random teenager in your house and every night you wake up to a fucking earthquake cause she had another nightmare. Anyone would want an explanation, a way to control the powers.”

“But… He was your best friend,” Romanoff says and Tony feels like he can’t fucking breathe.

Y/n, though, just shrugs, like it wasn’t a cruel breach of trust. Like Howard Stark hadn’t stabbed her in the back. Like it was any old thursday. “He was,” she agrees with ease, before turning to Tony and continuing, “and sometimes friends do stupid shit in a naive attempt to try and help.” Fuck me with a chainsaw and call me Samantha, Tony thinks. “It wasn’t all bad. He’s the one who figured I wasn’t all alien.” She says it with a smile, like it was fucking nothing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Tony manages to ask, confused beyond words.

“And give you another reason to hate him? You had plenty. It was between us, we solved it and moved on like adults,” she tells him, calm as ever. 

“Y/n! He broke your trust!” Tony argues, taking a step towards her, finally finding his voice again.

She just rolls her eyes, “He got curious, Stark. He’s a scientist, can you blame him?”

“So am I! And I would never do that!,” He yells. And only when the words are out of his mouth does he understand what he just said. “I would never do that to you,” he insists in a smaller voice, with a softer tone.

She smiles then, true and open. “I know, Tones. I know.”

It’s… It’s hard for him to process this information. He doesn’t know where to put this, how to categorize it. He has absolutely no clue what to do with this.

So he asks instead, “Did mom… did she know?” He’s scared but it’s better than the alternative of having to come to terms with the whole situation..

“No, no nooo!” Her hands move around animatedly to drive the point home.”If Maria had known he wouldn’t have been alive long enough for you to exist,” she shakes her head with a fondness he doesn’t know where to place. “No, she didn’t know. He got the ass-reaming of the century from Peggy, we burnt the leftover blood samples and called it a day.”

Fuck. “Fuck!” Tony curses, absolutely lost on what he should do now. Cause what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

“Stark,” she urges, softly, “let’s focus on the problem at hand, let’s deal with the fake doctor, let’s handle that and then we can come back to this. We’ll fight this, together, united. The Avengers stay together, we fight our way through this. We agree on a document that works for us, for all of us.”

Tony shakes his head, tumbling back. “You don’t understand Y/n, you have to sign the Accords… there are no neutral parties. There can’t be. You sign this or it’s over.” She tries to say something, but he marches on, he needs to get this out. “After what happened in Sokovia, after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D. after Lagos, the world governments are not going to settle for anything less. You have to see that.” He sighs, exhausted and man, can someone fix this pain in his shoulder please? “You can make amendments,” he suggests. “However many you want, okay? Make amendments to your heart’s content. Once you sign this, we can fight about the specifics, Y/n. We’ll have the best lawyer in the business on our side! Just sign it, Y/n. Please. They are out for blood, Ross more than anyone else. He will not let you go.”

“He won’t be able to find me,” Y/n tells him, with a straight face.

“If he can’t find you, how will I?”

He cannot lose her. 

He just fucking can’t. Not… Not over this.

It seems to hit her too. It’s only then that he notices she looks a lot less fierce than she usually does. “Tony, there is no scope for amendments.”

“Once you sign—”

He’s cut off. “Tony, read the fucking document. Come on! Have I taught you absolutely nothing? Read the thing before you sign it. There is absolutely no scope for amendments. There are too many loopholes to stop the issues from even being raised. It’s solid as a stone, I won’t be able to barter for even an ounce of freedom.”

“Y/n…” He’s fucking desperate. “We need regulation.”

“Tony this isn’t regulation… I can’t sign this.”

This is when Romanoff speaks up. “Tony, Steve's not gonna stop. If you don't either, Rhodey's gonna be the best case scenario.”

And somehow her words are harsh enough to make him angry all over again. “You let them go, Romanoff.”

“We played this wrong,” she tries. But he’s not taking any prisoners.

“'We'? Boy, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh? It sticks in the DNA,” he throws back.

“Anthony,” Y/n scolds him.

“Are you incapable of letting go of your ego for one goddamn second?” Romanoff rebukes.

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead he tells her, “T'Challa told Ross what you did, so… they're coming for you.”

Just as the words slip out, Y/n’s phone chimes. 

“Either Tony’s a fucking psychic or the Secratary of State just has impeccable timing,” she comments looking down at her phone. When she looks up at them her face is stern. “He’s on his way, he’ll be here in 5. You should go.”

“Me?” Romanoff asks her, bordering on pissed. “We should go.”

Y/n just shakes her head. “We leave together, we won’t be able to lose them. You go ahead, I’ll buy you time.”

“Y/n—” Romanoff’s protest is cut short.

“Just go. Given the fact that my superpower is straight up teleportation, I think I’ll fare much better than you,” Y/n assures her. “Go.”

Reluctance clear on every inch of her face, Natasha Romanoff unwillingly begins to walk away. But not before one last (metaphorical) punch to his gut. She looks at Tony, “I’m not the one who needs to watch their back.” With that she makes her swift exit, leaving the balcony and seamlessly blending in with the crowd.

Slowly, both siblings, without words, come to stand next to each other leaning on the railing, looking at the view ahead.

“How are you planning on buying time?” Tony asks her then.

“Will you tell on me to the teacher, Stark?” She asks, teasing.

It’s a truce. It’s temporary. 

He still thinks they should consider signing the Accords and she still believes it’s not the way to go.

But despite all that, Tony can’t help the way lips curl up. “I’m not a rat.”

“Aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Cause that’s what all the rats say,” she tells him with a mischievous smile. “I would know, I’ve been the rat.”

A chuckle slips out from his lips.

She joins him easily.

He might not be sure about much right now, but he knows for a fact that if he were to lose her, he wouldn’t survive it. “What happened to Rhodey… you know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

The smile drops from her face. “Wasn’t it?”

“You have to know it wasn’t.” He needs her to know at least that. He needs her to know no matter what happens, this was not her.

“If I’d known my powers better, had I… I don’t know. If I had not been so afraid of them, if I’d practiced once I knew I was safe, none of this would have happened.” Her head falls back, eyes closed. “If I had control over my powers, Wanda wouldn’t have been enough to break me. Would have saved us so much trouble.”

“There would still be a raging Hulk on the loose,” Tony contends.

She rolls her eyes. “People know the Hulk. They understand—scientist gets angry, becomes green and Hulk-y. It tracks in their head. But it was different for me, the first time I ever showed my powers to the world was when I was out of control…” She closes her eyes, head falling. “Maybe it would’ve been better to not hide them in the first place,” she whispers.

“We don’t know that,” he ventures, ‘cause it’s true. “We don’t know what could have happened. All we could say with certainty is that we’re both a couple of dumbasses.”

“I’ll have to agree on that one,” Ross’s voice booms as he walks onto the balcony. 

Both siblings turn to eye the intrusion. It’s Ross flanked by… Ross—the other Ross—Everett and some other dude in a suit he’s never seen before. But he looks annoyed, old and has glasses on so he just presumes the man must be important as well.

“Nice to see you too Mr. Secretary,” Y/n replies with an easy smile. But it’s not open. It’s the one she wears just before she’s about to make someone’s day a lot worse.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here, young lady. You should have taken Romanoff’s approach and run when you had the chance,” Ross comments. And honestly? Yeah, Tony kinda wants to rescind his fucking signatures cause siding with this man is seeming less appealing by the minute.

But Y/n just laughs. “It’s not like you’ll be able to stop me if I were to run even now,” and just to fuck with him, she glitches an inch off to the side.

Ah, that’s where I got the innate need to be an ass.

“Now you’re just showing off,” the smaller Ross says, sounding more charmed than pissed.

The smile doesn’t leave her face, “Maybe I am.” She glitches a step closer to the group of men. “So, Mr. Secretary, did you need something from me?”

“Still a fiery little thing, aren’t you?” Ross mocks. Tony can’t help but roll his eyes at his hubris. “It’ll die out soon enough, once we get you situated at the Raft along with the rest of your team members.”

Raft? Wait… What does he mean by the Raft? Why would he put them there? That’s not—it’s not right.

He’s losing his shit.

But Y/n frowns, innocent and demure, like she knew about it already. Like she knew that’s where they’d put them. “On what charges am I getting arrested, Mr. Secretary?”

And on his part, the Secretary of State takes her mock naivete in stride. Letting out a short laugh. “Well if you’ve taken the time to read the Accords, you’d know that using your powers on the field without the explicit say-so of the UN committee is illegal.”

“I didn’t use my powers.”

That finally breaks whatever rope was holding the bridge of Ross’s anger together. “Do not play dumb with me, Stark. This might have worked with Fury, but I’m not him.”

“Don’t I know it. Never thought I’d miss that old croak, and yet…” she comments, still smiling. “But my point still stands. I did not use my powers.”

Before Ross can say something that might put a sailor to shame, the shorter Ross intervenes, “We have footage of you fighting Barnes at our facility.”

“I didn’t fight Barnes, I fought the Winter Soldier. And on that issue, I’ve got two words for you, self defense,” she tells them easily and a smile just slips out on his face. He may not agree with her on this—profoundly divisive issue, but he’ll never not be in absolute admiration of his big sister fucking around with authorities.

“You can’t be serious,” the shorter Ross throws back, with a confounded smile.

“Check the footage if you like,” Y/n takes a few steps back, leaning on the railing behind her and pulling out a box of cigarettes from her pocket. “I didn’t throw the first punch…” She puts one between her lips, casual and easy. “I didn’t even use my powers until he came at me with his fucking metal arm and his fucking enhanced strength.” She pulls out her lighter. “What did you expect me to do then? Get beaten up?” She lights the cigarette.

“Yes,” Ross supplies.

She smiles at him, taking a drag. “Might be your style. Not mine.”

“And what about at the airport in Germany?” The shorter Ross asks.

Y/n shrugs. “Never threw the first punch.” Another drag. “Besides, I was defending myself from a rag-tag group of superheroes who were after me with a vengeance.” She smiles at her own words looking at Tony on her side.

And just for that, he decides to be a bitch too. “What if I were to sue you for assault?” 

Her smile drops instantly and for a second he thinks maybe he won that round, but alas. “You could have, if you’d fucking listened to me! You should’ve let me come to you. I have told you about a million times; you are not the biggest guy on the field. You fight well but not well enough to be cocky, you are supposed to let your opponent come to you.”

“The best defense is a great offense,” Tony says lamely.

“That’s what idiots say when they have shit defense! If you let them come to you, you get the advantage of not just using their momentum against them, you also get to know the move they trust most because 9 times out of 10, you want to start the fight off on a strong foot so you use the move you’ve practiced often, but also the one that you’re most comfortable with,” Y/n scolds him, hands waving everywhere, clearly annoyed with him beyond words.

“That seems like an exaggerated statistic,” Tony tries.

He fails.

“It’s not,” the shorter Ross supplies. “She’s right.” He earns a stern look to shut up from Ross.

“You could’ve sued me if you’d just listened to me. I’m easy to provoke, especially when the person provoking me is you.” She takes another drag. “Look at me right now, I want to punch you so bad.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Today clearly has not been a day of peace thus far, so why not continue to choose violence?

“That’s enough!” Ross yells. “I’ve heard enough out of the both of you!” The man looks like he’s well past blowing a gasket. He looks at Tony, “Stark, you are well past your 36 hours to get me Rogers,” he turns and fixes his gaze on his sister, “And as for you… Stark, feel free to cry to the judge about how it was self-defense when you’re on trial. Till then there’s a cell with your name on it on the Raft, that’s where you’ll have to throw whichever fit comes after this one.” The way he speaks it’s evident he doesn’t believe that she’s a threat, not to him. “We’re putting you under arrest.”

“Oh?” Y/n asks. She waits a second and then suddenly there’s a sound of static that rings out. She is next to Tony one second and the next she’s standing against Ross, toe to toe. She pulls the cigarette out of her mouth. “You and what army?”

A vein pops out on Ross’ temple. 

“You’re forgetting who you’re talking to, Stark,” Ross warns.

“Or maybe you’re forgetting that I might look like a young and ‘fiery little lady’ but I’m not. I have been doing this since before you were even a thought in your father’s head.” She takes a drag, slow and somber. “You best learn to respect your elders, son.”

And just like that, she’s gone. Glitched into nothing. 

Tony tries his best not to let this little spark of pride overtake his guilt.

Read the next part here. Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

tag list : @aryksworld @freeflyingphoenix @just-anotherstan @justab-eautifulmess @ceo-of-daichi @roxannejblack @liketearsintherainn @paintballkid711 @starkleila @heyitsmereading @fairlygothparents @euphoria-svt @sidepartskinnyjeans @siwiecola @haleybutnotthecomet @mvaldez7821 @rockybutmakeitlame @romanoffswoman @ashpeace888 @hopeofwinter @percabethfangirl987 @lilfuturescars @hailqueenconquer @third-broparcelicito

hit me up if you wanna be added to the tag list. I have taken so long to update so much of my tag list has just deactivated their accounts. ouch hahahaha (cries while laughing)

[universalzones]

"I work better alone. Besides, I know this town better and you'd just slow me down." Nine was aware that statement came off as rude, though he was speaking the truth as it'd be a pain to drag an outsider around with him while looking for the parts. "Not to mention people don't like outsiders much, if you hadn't figured that out already." The fox was sure he had to do some trading to get everything he needed which would be easier with just him.

"Just by hearing that, you aren't going to have anywhere near the amount I'm thinking about. Course if you want some quick cash you could always jump into the Chaos Pit. First place gets five hundred thousand Chaos Chips and goes down by one hundred thousand for second and third. Before you ask, yes, it is an illegal fight pit, though also means you can go in with your gear." Nine figured that would be the only way the stranger could get the money she needed quickly for him to start working on her gear as soon as possible.

"If not then you've got a lot of jobs to take as I doubt you'll find anyone else to work on it and even if you do don't be surprised if they charge you the same seeing as it is illegal." Nine was sure he just info dumped on the sparrow, though he had no problem being blunt and telling them how it is. The fox would just wait to see what the other says.

"Well I can help with the gathering if need be, long as it's nothing too over the top. Gotta say you got me more curious about why Babylonian tech is banned around here, but I won't press if asking about it gets someone in trouble." Suzume gives a bit of a shrug, not seeming to find the mention of the council bots too much of a threat. Though her exact mood on that would remain unclear as she moved to look through her wallet.

"I got some through some currency exchange getting here....The exchange rate does hurt but I can always get more credits. Not about to be doing that before you give me a ballpark estimate, though." She looked away from him for a moment, glancing over to somewhere behind him with a brief furrow of her brow.

If she had to as well she could pick up odd jobs over the days he was working on it to get extra credits. Admittedly she really didn't like it here in New Yolk already, but she was making the most of the awkward blunder that brought her here. At the least she wasn't arrested...Yet.

[cooliogirl101]

Been looking back at the Powerpuff Girls AU I wrote and I kinda want to write about what would happen if Reina, after her “death”, gets launched into the canon Naruto verse instead. A few ways this could go:

Reina wakes up in the body of canon!verse’s Kobayashi Reina, who never attended the Academy and by all appearances was a perfectly average civilian woman.

- She either wakes up pre-Uchiha Massacre, in which case she’d run straight to Mikoto and tell her everything (doesn’t matter if it’s not her Mikoto, she would love any version of Uchiha Mikoto). Mikoto might actually have a harder time adjusting to Reina than vice versa, to having someone look at her with so much love and trust and affection that it aches.

Reina comes from a world where the Uchiha are widely respected and closely connected to the other clans, instead of cast aside and isolated. Reina gives her hope, and she doesn’t know what to do with that.

- OR she wakes up post-Uchiha Massacre and has to live with the realization that in this nightmarish parody of her world, her godson (one of the people she loves most in the world) killed her best friend (another one of the people she loves most in the world).

She wakes up completely and utterly alone in this world and the more she learns about it, the sicker she feels. Sakumo-sensei never survived his suicide attempt and his son is drowning in Anbu, Minato and Kushina are dead, their son is hated and abandoned by the village, Mikoto and the rest of the Uchiha were slaughtered by Itachi (and how could it be Itachi? How could the boy she loved and helped raise be capable of such a thing?) leaving behind a shattered Sasuke, Orochimaru has turned into someone she no longer recognizes, her team is broken and scattered to the winds, Hizashi died a pointless death saving a village that should have gone to war for him goddamn it and Neji— oh dear god, Neji—

In the midst of violently throwing up, body shaking from the force of her sobs, Reina rests her cheek on the toilet seat and sends a mental apology to those she’s left behind. It appears that she’ll be taking a bit longer to find her way home.

She has things to do first.

[chosetherose]

We knew it all along 🍊🩵

Taylor released Sweeter Than Fiction exclusive to the Tangerine vinyl at Target. She said this about it:

“There you’ll stand ten feet tall, I will say ‘I knew it all along’ 🥲 This song has always made me think of my friend Jack. It was the first song we made together and watching him challenge himself and make beautiful art over the years has been the thrill of a lifetime. How can he be 6 years older than me and also somehow still be my precocious young son? We may never know. “Sweeter Than Fiction (My Version)” is now available exclusively at Target on Tangerine vinyl 🍊🩵”

I find this funny for a couple reasons:

1. She created an orange (tangerine) edition with an exclusive track that repeats the lyrics “this life is sweeter than fiction”.

Let it sink in. Orange, which we picked up on as a stunting color, is the only version that includes this song. She is saying her true love is sweeter than the fictitious love we see in stunts.

2. She used the 🍊 emoji. And for some reason this makes me feel we are seen. She is aware of the hijinks that go on around here. (Extra giggles: @spade-riddles regularly uses the 🎯 emoji).

Looking deeper, the lyrics to STF are especially 👀 to me.

3. If you read this through a Tumblr Kaylor lens does it not sound perfectly like a redemption story? (Please I know we are just silly little internet people in all this but hear me out).

The first verse is about coming undone, watching us fall, watching our colors fade with a pain we thought would last forever.

In the second verse after the chorus, all we have is our shattered hopes. Then, they never saw it coming, but we were on to something and hit the ground running. 

In the pre-chorus, the light comes on. We proved her right, them wrong. And it’s like we don’t remember when we thought the rain would last forever.

The chorus repeats including that we will stand tall, the rest is history.

The bridge says we’ll be one of many saying look at us now, you made us proud. Then goes into the sentiment of loving someone when they are down, like we’ve loved Kaylor’s true love in its deepest darkness.

4. Notably, Taylor highlighted “There you’ll stand ten feet tall, I will say ‘I knew it all along’”. This reminds me so much of this riddle from Spade.

♠️ My riddles aren’t chronological but they do foreshadow. Piece them together and see the picture. You’ve known all along so now, follow along. - 05/11/2019

And generally, highlighting those lyrics gives me vibes of change in the air.

Bonus:

Taylor described Jack as like her “precocious” young son. Ok but any adjective would have worked there. Why this one? Here is its definition:

Showing mental development or achievement much earlier than usual

It fits the theme of knowing something before others. 💅🏼

I’ll be dissecting this post for ages 😂

[taylorslastbraincells]

I made an aromantic "Love song" or poem idk it's the first time I made something like this please don't judge :') also English is not my first language. (Corrections and tips are still appreciated but please be nice <3)

The first part is in perspective of my past self and the second part is my present-me talking to my past-me.

Here you go:

verse 1:

(Past-Me)

I always longed for a real heartbreak to feel something real,

But my love felt so hollow, like a wound that won't heal.

I wanted to know what it's like to be torn,

But the feeling was empty, just leaving me worn.

I just felt relieved when it finally ended,

All the tension released, all the bonds I pretended.

No true ties to sever, no tears left to cry,

Just a void where love should be, no reason to try

Pre Chorus:

In relationships, I've never really felt like myself,

And when they ended, it was like breaking free from chains.

I was free once more, but the longing never ceased,

It's just not fair-

why can't I feel my heart beat like your, baby?

Refrain:

Baby, please shatter my heart, rip it straight from my chest,

i've been chasing that hurt, but it never manifest,

Baby its okay, I just need to know,

I'm begging you now, let the feelings show

Baby its alright, i'm down on my knees,

I'm begging for heartbreak, just to prove its true

Please Baby I'm begging you

verse 2:

I longed for romance, but my fate was reversed,

My heart doesn´t beat, its been frozen and cursed.

No matter the effort, no matter the cost,

How many flowers i brought, how many kisses i lost.

It never felt right, it never made my heart beat,

And in the end, i just hurt someone sweet.

Just to prove to myself and to them,

That maybe, just maybe, I'm capable of love within

Refrain:

Baby, please shatter my heart, rip it straight from my chest,

i've been chasing that hurt, but it's never manifest,

Baby its okay, I just need to know,

I'm begging you now, let the feelings show

Baby its alright, i'm down on my knees,

I'm begging for heartbreak, just to prove its true

Baby please I'm begging you

verse 3: (Present-Me)

My dear, your heart's neither frozen nor cursed,

It just beats to a rhythm that’s beautifully versed.

Maybe your love isn't like theirs, and that's okay,

Don't beg for the pain, don’t wish it away.

All the flowers you gave and kisses you shared,

They were full of love, just a different kind of care.

You love your friends, and that love is so real,

No need for a Romeo, your Juliet’s deal.

Give your heart to the one who holds it with grace,

It may take time, but you'll find your place.

So rise from your knees and take hold of my hand,

I’ll guide you through where you’ll finally stand.

Bridge:

You’ve searched for so long, but you’ve had it all along,

Love doesn’t always have to feel like a song.

It’s in the small things, in laughter, in trust,

In all that you cherish, in all that you must.

Don’t chase a feeling that doesn’t define,

The love you give is just as divine.

changed Refrain:

Dear, take my heart, hold it close to your chest,

You’ve been chasing love, but you’ve never been less.

Dear, it’s alright, just trust and believe,

I’m here with you now, there’s nothing to grieve.

Dear, it’s fine, you’re up on your feet,

Let go of the doubts, your love is complete.

Dear, I’m here, I’m telling you true,

You’re worthy of love, and I’m begging you too

Outro:

Now I stand here, no longer unsure,

Knowing my love’s just as pure.

It doesn’t have to break to be true,

It’s in every moment, in all that I do

[harlequin-eldritchkin]

Source: Pictures from Pinterest. Harley Quinn from Harleen by Stjepan Sejic, Poison Ivy from Poison Ivy: The Virtuous Cycle by G. Willow Wilson, Marcio Takara, and Arif Prianto. Photoshopped by yours truly.

One of my favorite artists that I feel touches on Harlivy is Taylor Swift.

"I Can Do It With a Broken Heart" makes me think of Harley post Joker. This song could have been on the soundtrack of Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn.

Before she was the Clown Princess of Crime on her own terms, before she was even Harley Quinn, Dr. Quinzel was expected to uphold her professionalism and do as her department (of old white men) wanted rather than what she trained for and her aim to understand the criminally insane.

With Joker she was expected to obey no matter the cost to her safety or mental health. She was his sidekick and punching bag. Classic relationship between a White Faced and Auguste Clown.

"Lights, camera, bitch, smile,

Even when you want to die,

He said he'd love me all his life,

But that life was too short,

Breaking down, I hit the floor,

All the pieces of me shattered,

As the crowd was chanting "More!"

I was grinning like I'm winning,

I was hitting my marks,

'Cause I can do it with a broken heart."

When Harley drives the gas truck into the chemical plant "We're Never Getting Back Together Again" would fit brilliantly. Just saying.

"Mad Woman" is another great song. In the pre-chorus to chorus she sings:

"Everytime you call me crazy,

I get more crazy,

What about that?

And when you say I seem angry,

I get more angry,

And there's nothing like a mad woman."

Harley becomes the "Mad Woman" when people refer to her as Joker's sidekick or will never be able to escape his shadow. Ivy turns into a "Mad Woman" everytime someone does a purposefully harmful act to the planet. They both turn into a "Mad Woman" when someone threatens or hurts the other.

The meaning behind the song, at least for me, touches on the quote, "Nature isn't cruel. It's just efficient," especially the first verse:

"What do you think I'd say to that?

does a scorpion sting when fighting back?

They strike to kill,

And you know I will,

You know I will".

Source: Pinterest. Reputation Era Taylor Swift.

In conclusion, this line from Imgonnagetyouback is reminiscent of Poison Ivy:

"Pick your poison,

I'm poison either way."