#so kal could look better by contrast?

[cienie-isengardu]

@nereiix said to Jango Fett and Walon Vau: Age Difference and Childhood Trauma:

Interesting, as always. I just noticed one minor mistake: Vau was not depressive on Kamino. I can't find where it's said in the books, but it's near the passage where we learn Mird hunted and killed a Kaminoan.

Thank you 🙂

As for Vau, I assume you mean this paragraph from True Colors:

Vau hadn't actually disliked Tipoca in the eight years he'd been cooped up there. Inside the pristine stilt-city, it could have been any urban environment; he didn't miss shopping and entertainment, so it was largely indistinguishable from Coruscant, although the lack of hunting troubled Mird. The strill stalked Kaminoans instead. It even caught one once, but its prey was just the blue-eyed variety, the lowest genetic caste of Kamino, and the gray-eyed elite seemed only annoyed at the loss of a menial.     Yes, that was probably the day Vau's ambivalence toward Kaminoans evaporated, and he joined Skirata in thinking of them as aiwha-bait.

Of course this is up to personal interpretation, but for me Vau is solely making a point about Tipoca City as a place of his and Mird living (and why his ambivalence toward Kaminoans changed). He doesn’t need to hate Kamino (planet) to be depressed about seeing two(four) years old, tiny kids bred for war so Republic citizens won’t dirty their hands and bleed for whatever cause Jedi had in mind when commissioning a clone army.

It is hard to tell if Vau was truly depressed about that at any given point - especially when there is Kal to compare - but I wouldn’t cross out this possibility as the books pointed out quite often that the training took its emotional toll on both clones and their instructors. And sure, Kal is the main example of that as he is generally speaking an extrovert whose emotional state is hard to miss but though Walon was always presented as the most detached character, even he wasn’t immune to seeing his tiny cadets for the first time - something he admitted himself in the same book. He said he already had a “midlife crisis”[1] - that from my calculation fits the year of starting commando training - which may as well mean he had  an indefinite depressive period of time that could last few days, weeks or months but in contrast to Kal, Vau had better grip (control) of his emotion and did not let them interference with what he was paid to do. 

At the end of the day, it all comes down to people’s individual feeling toward Vau - I personally give him benefit of doubt because the series showed he cared more than he let himself show and when things take emotional toll on him (the news of Sev being MIA), he is more prone to shut down to the point it may look like he doesn’t care at all while in fact he is deeply affected.

[1] midlife crisis sounds as something easier to admit for Vau than depression that could be also influenced by his guilt about Galidraan but in all fairness I don’t trust RC book series when it comes to characters’ mental illness, depression or broadly understood (lack of) mental health nor the characters' approach to it.

[stoptellinglieslois]

Principal of pleasure part 12

Clark & Dick have quality time together as they stay near a planet around Axis as they contemplate their relationship and thoughts.

Superman x Nightwing pairing 

Dick

We were in bed for the most part of the night the feeling I have right now is pure bliss and excitement.

We lay together talking our feet entangled together playing his toe rubbed on my heel.

Both of us have smiles on our faces as we look at each other, I can’t express how I feel about Clark right now it’s like any fear or guilt I had when I was on earth came to a halt when I’m here with him in this room.

“Why are we like this we shouldn’t be like this it’s unnatural why do you have that pull over me.” Clark skimmed my fingers with his as I was telling him how I feel.

“Stop resisting my hold over you let me love you like the way you need to be love, That’s all I want to do is to give you what I have inside of me and your just experience it first hand.” Clark held my hand towards his lip and gave my hand  butterfly kiss lightly.

I started laughing and I pull my hand away from his grasp and rubbed my face as I blush I don’t blush often that was more of Clark department and he was not blushing when he said those things to me though.

“We should eat something we can’t stay well I can’t stay like this I don’t no about you. Do they have pizza here or do they have something that a human being can eat. ” I started getting up and Clark stopped me from leaving the bed. “Don’t get up yet don’t be so quick to leave just enjoy the moment.”  I did what he said and laid back down.

“We have to start watching the scene soon we can’t stay here all night like this.” I was whispering but we didn’t need to no one was in the room, it is dark this place was underground they are advance being but the way they lived was a different way at first sight, But it would fool anyone if they were plucked from earth and dropped here.

“Soon.... call me Kal-El or just Kal.”

“Oh ok I’m just so use to calling you Clark I never thought about calling you any other way but if you prefer that then ok.” I never really called him that much as I had other nicknames for him but Kal-El is his real native name and he asked me to call him that it was a big deal, well it meant something to me anyways he was opening up to me who he truly was and that broke my walls this whole time are breaking all of my barriers.

“What do we do when we are in front of other people? I still call you Kal-El or do I call you Clark.” I said in the dark only a small candle was lit up and slowly dying out the shadows on Kal-El body and face made a nice contrast on his handsome face and his incredibly powerful body.

“Lois stopped calling me that years ago only a few call me that at this point, But it was never constant as I would like it to be I want you to call me that all the time.” Kal-El pulled me closer to him this place is warm already his body is keeping me hot my stomach grumbled.

“Kal please I gotta eat something I’m starved sleeping here with you is amazing but I have to keep my strength up to keep up with the man of steel.” He sighed and made an exasperated sound and got up. “Stay there I’ll make us something.” Kal-El said and got up towards the kitchen there is no privacy at this place the bedroom and kitchen are all in one it reminded me of the cabin a bit.

He started on making something to eat it was rustic here but I knew better this place was far from it. Space ships instead of cars that could zip by in seconds A silly thought just came to my head and I had to ask him. “I feel like you abducted me and took me to a place far away just to spend time with me.” As I laughed at my own thoughts something crashed in the dark and A stumbled Kal-El said apologies out loud.

But he didn’t answer my question though. “Kal-El.” 

End of part 12 next is part 13

Thank you for reading 

[wolferals]

my boyfriend is superman!**

Henry Cavill x reader

requested by @gummydummy19

PART TWO OF „MY BOYFRIEND IS SUPERMAN?“

Warnings: bit of fluff, mostly smut!, oral (female receiving), praising kink, dirty talk, soft sex

You scrunched your nose at the tingling feeling on your cheek. Barely realizing what was going on, you felt something warm on your cheek that left a wet warm spot. Smiling softly, you dug your face into the pillow, groaning quietly.

„Morning sweetheart.“ Henrys deep voice right on your ear, followed by a sweet kiss against your neck, made you feel warm in the pit of your stomach.

„Hmm.“ you hummed, rolling onto your back and removing the annoying hair off your face.

„How do you feel?“ Henry whispered, placing soft kisses all over your face while his hand was stroking the exposed skin on your thigh.

Slowly you opened your eyes and smiled once you met his blue orbits with the little brown speck in them.

„Hmm.“ you moaned again, not having gained the power to speak.

„Headache?“ He asked caring. Slowly you nodded. The headache wasn’t strong but you felt it pulsating in your forehead.

„Do you remember last night? You said a few crazy things.“ He held back a grin as you shut your eyes, remembering bits from the night before, embarrassing bits.

„Mhm. Where‘s Kal?“ you realized he wasn’t on the floor next to you where he usually sat when you woke up.

„In the kitchen. You wanted to sleep on the floor with him, remember?“

You covered your face. „Ew.“

Henry chuckled and rolled onto his back. „And you were very fascinated that you were dating superman.“

Now you remembered booping his nose a few times.

„Mhm.“ you turned to him and placed your hand on his muscular chest.

„I promised you some sex too, because you forgot we‘d ever had sex before.“

You looked at him in surprise. „I did?“ He nodded.

„How could I ever forget we had sex before?“

Henry shrugged his shoulders. „You had a lot to drink babe. And not gonna lie, it was a bit hurtful that you forgot that.“

The second he finished his sentence you felt his hot fingers on your clothed vagina, pressing against your clit.

Gasping you instinctively spread your legs to give him better access.

„Mh you like that huh?“ he cooed, smiling at your sleepy state.

Slowly he started to circle your sensitive clit, making you moan contently, smiling to yourself.

„Does that feel good?“ Henry quietly asked, applying more pressure.

He left you feeling hungry for more but you knew that begging doesnt work on him, it actually makes him make you wait even longer.

So you decided to just wait for him to give you more.

And as if Henry had read your mind, he carefully slipped his hand into your panties, now rubbing circles on your bare skin. He loved teasing you, your moans were like a mantra to him. He loved it when you were loud.

„Good girl.“ you moaned softly at the praise.

„You want more hm?“ Henrys eyes were glowing at you. His gaze on you showed you how hungry he was for you as well.

„Want my tongue on you babe?“ He asked you while his index and pointer finger were caressing your clit.

„Use your words babe. Tell me what you want.“

-„Tongue.“ was all you could say inbetween breathy moans and lip biting.

„Alright babe but I want you to put your arms up and don‘t touch yourself. Just enjoy it okay y/n?“

Slowly he moved down your upper body, kissing and licking your exposed flesh until he reached your hips. You had your arms up above your head just like he had told you to. His wet tongue felt like a heavenly contrast to your dehydrated skin.

„Hmm Hen.“ you moaned, waiting for him to finally gift you with the pleasure you‘d been seeking.

He knew how bad you needed it. Carefully he pulled down your soaked panties as he settled between your spread legs. The wetness of your own pussy glistening in the sunlight for him. He licked his lips as he realized how horny you were.

„So wet for me baby.“ his deep voice reminded you of how he talked as Geralt. A huge turn on for you.

„Mm.“ you replied, closing your eyes, waiting for his tongue to make you squirm.

He started off slowly, placing open mouthed kisses to your inner thigh and your lower stomach. Sucking in a harsh breath, you wrapped your legs around his bare back.

„So needy for me.“ he realized, grinning to himself. He loved how you spread your legs for him the second he got close to your middle. He loved how much you wanted him. And he loved bow bad you wanted him to fuck you up.

Finally he granted you the pleasure as he licked against your clit with the tip if his tongue.

Moaning immediately he knew how good he was at that.

He continued to lick your pussy carefully for a few minutes, leaving you squeal and squirm underneath him. He loved to torture you.

„Hmm you still taste like alcohol.“

You moaned loudly. „More.“ „Please.“

Henry nodded and sped up significantly. Licking and sucking on your sensitive nub, he held your legs in place. It took all of you not to grab your boobs or dig your hands in his thick curls. But you werent one to obey him this time.

It felt too good to risk for him to stop.

He kept eating you out for what felt like an eternity and you tried to hold back an orgasm since his mouth felt heavenly against your pussy. His light scruff adding a hot sensation against your skin as well.

„Henry.“ you cried out, waiting for your release to come crashing over you.

He went even faster and more feral than before, making you a moaning mess underneath his touch. But he was going to take his time with you.

This was not all you were going to get.

„Come on baby.“ he dipped his hot tongue inside of you yet again, adding to the sensation.

„Fuck you’re so sweet.“

His praising making your pussy wetter by the second.

It felt like you were drowning in delicious honey by how his tongue ate you up.

How he devoured you. After this rough and short night you had, you were still tired as hell; yet the way he was rolling his tongue against your clit was all you needed to feel alive and awake.

„Yes yes yes.“ you practically screamed as you felt your orgasm approach. Henry understood and sped up once again. It was too much for you, the pleasure overwhelming you. „Fuck yes.“ you were too close to stop now. You were sure even if he‘d stopped moving your orgasm would still hit your pussy like a wave.

And that’s exactly what happened. Your pussy clenched around the empty nothingness as your clit started to tingle and your back automatically arched as you let out a loud moan of satisfaction.

Henry did slow down for a change and only licked soft stripes up your folds as his fingers rubbed reassuring circles on your thigh.

„Good girl. Good girl.“ he spoke and kissed your clit one more time before he gave you another lick, cleaning you up.

„Hmm.“ you hummed contently and tried to catch your breath.

„You awake now?“ Henry chuckled against your skin before placing a soft kiss to your belly.

„Mhm.“ smiling you looked down at him.

„I love you.“ you spoke. He came up to hover over you and replied:“I love you more sweetheart. But don‘t you dare forget I‘m your boyfriend ever again!“

You laughed softly before he finally placed his sweet lips against yours.

You moaned into the kiss, enjoying every second of his soft kiss on your plump lips.

Once he pulled away he smiled at you.

„You still taste like rum.“

You smiled back.

„And you taste like me.“

[from-a-reckless-writer]

here's me jumping into the bandwagon :D

(read on ao3)

It's just after sunset when Kara finally gives in. She veers off from her patrol down to a route she knows by heart.

The moment she lands, the first thing she notices is how the sliding doors are a fraction open. It’s a small thing, nothing to even be thrilled about, yet still, her drumming heart cannot be helped.

"Knock, knock," she says, stepping inside.

Her heart turning anxious when she takes in the sight in front of her. The room is a mess; books on the floor, drawers open, Lena’s frazzled appearance. She's standing over a suitcase thrown open in the middle of the bed, a mountain of clothes on top of it.

She was told that Lena was going on a trip, that it would probably take three weeks tops.

Packing for a trip doesn’t look like this, this looks a lot like... leaving.

Going on a trip, Kara remembers that’s what her family told her too.

You and Kal are going on a trip but you don’t have to worry, we’ll be with you the rest of the way, they told her.

A trip implies there would be a home to come back to. And Kara believed it. She believed it for a total of ten seconds before her planet exploded and a shard of her home knocked her off-course.

"Need some help?" Her voice doesn’t tremble. Kara considers that a miracle, really.

"I didn't know Supergirl helped poor hapless women pack suitcases,” Lena retorts, walking over to her and kissing her cheek in greeting. It doesn't go unnoticed by Kara how clingy Lena's been since she's been back.

"Well, I wouldn’t exactly consider you poor and hapless," Kara counters.

"I may have had a slight,” Lena pinches her thumb and forefinger together, “panic over which and what to pack earlier.”

Yeah, Kara can definitely see that.

"Good thing I’m here then?”

"It's always good whenever you're around,” Lena says in such a casual way and it’s like the past year didn’t happen. As if it has always been this good. And...is this even allowed? This much affection from Lena? All the sweet words, the gentle touches, and the constant close proximity? It shouldn’t be allowed, not if it will be taken from her almost immediately after.

Unfair, is what it is.

******

“Okay, so why don’t we just move this out here yeah?” Kara voices, leaning over and hugging the lump of clothes to her chest, dumps it out from the suitcase and onto Lena’s pillows.

Lena’s fabric conditioner filling Kara’s senses entirely. For a brief moment, she considers stealing one of Lena’s shirts then and there. Something to tide her through once Lena leaves.

“Great. You’re on folding duty then,” Lena declares, “I’ll just go sort my babies, quickly. I’ll be right back.”

(Her 'babies' being the thick books lining every inch of this place.)

Lena disappears through the door. The domesticity of it all pulling at Kara’s chest.

In another world, where life ran a little differently, Kara would be packing their suitcases for a trip to Argo, or maybe one of the planets she’s always wanted Lena to see, or maybe it’d be nothing that grand. Maybe, just a trip back to Midvale. Lena would read to her on the whole drive there, her hair whipping from the winds down coastal roads.

Maybe not even a trip. Maybe in this other world, she’s assigned on folding duty, while Lena tinkers around their house. Maybe, even a dog or a cat. Maybe, something small at first, just an aquarium of fishes.

She doesn’t notice how deep into the fantasy she’s gotten till Lena speaks up from the door.

"My, my, CatCo would pay a million dollars to see this."

"Uh-"

"Supergirl found in bed, folding Lena Luthor's undies."

Kara looks down at her hand. She’s holding a lacy purple panty, she spots the matching bra laying a few inches away. She drops it lightning quick, feels her face flush.

"Oh, Rao. Lena, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to- I wasn't- It was just there and I-"

"Relax, Kara. I was just teasing,” Lena reassures her, she’s got three books tucked in her arms, she lays them down on the bed, before picking up the underwear Kara’s dropped and folding it neatly.

The contrast of the dark fabric against Lena’s pale fingers makes Kara flush an even brighter red.

Kara tries hard to exclude Lena's lacy panties in her fantasy.

She fails.

******

They give up on packing entirely two hours later. An all out pillow fight breaks out somewhere between Kara fishing out her favorite hoodie from the pile--discovering t'was not in fact missing like she thought it was--and Lena denying that she stole it.

They’ve fallen right on top of Lena’s clothes. Laying opposite each other, Lena lying upside down, her feet propped up on the pillows, toes touching the headboard, whilst Kara’s legs dangle at the end of the bed. Their heads close together.

From this angle, she can see the defined slope of Lena’s nose; stares at the way her lashes curl every time she blinks.

“So, what do you think you’ll find there?” Kara breathes out into the silence.

“I don’t really know,” Lena whispers.

“Let me rephrase then; what do you want to find?”

“I- I don’t know either.”

She tries to crane her neck to take a better look at Lena. Her eyes are closed, and it takes every ounce of self-control for Kara not to lean over and just press a kiss to Lena’s lips. It would be so, so easy. She settles for shifting just a bit closer instead, their temples touching.

It’s good enough.

“That’s okay," Kara murmurs, "not knowing is part of the adventure, right?”

She tries not to think about how she isn’t really part of this adventure. It isn’t about her, really. Kara’s decided the next three days will be about Lena. Kara will have time for breaking down once Lena leaves. The three days pales in comparison to how much Lena’s sacrificed in getting her back.

“I guess so.” she hears Lena say.

On the ceiling, Kara sees two shadows dancing with each other, tries not to look too deep into it.

And then,

“I had Jess trace down a couple of documents for me,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s an orphanage that could help me, she thinks.”

Kara’s ears perk up at that, she imagines Lena as a small child crying for her mom and then being whisked away from everything she ever knew. Kara wishes she could hold that little girl’s hand. Why did nobody hold Lena’s hand through it all? Kara wonders if somebody did, would Lena even have met her? Would she have needed somebody like Kara in her life? She likes to believe that Lena would still have met her. A reality without Lena was too painful, Kara knows all too well.

“Is that where you’re going to visit first?”

“Yeah.”

A brief silence engulfs them.

“Hey, Kara,” Lena calls out. “Do you think-”

There’s a deep exhale and a sigh.

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think my mom would want me to find her again? Do you think she’s proud of me?”

The question was so full of uncertainty and insecurity and there's nothing that Kara wants more than to just wrap around Lena and tell her how goddamn amazing she is.

“Oh, Lena," Kara whispers, "your mom would be so happy if you found her. I’d even say she’s been waiting for you. And of course, she’s proud of you!” Kara sits up at this, can’t contain all her awe for Lena.

“You’re amazing! Have you met you? Your mom would be so proud of you. I just know it, Lena.”

Lena opens her eyes, smiles shyly at her, reaches up to cup Kara’s cheek. Even though the angle is awkward, Kara feels her entire being light up at the touch.

“Thank you. You always know just what to say.”

Kara's right hand comes up to keep Lena’s hand steady, before tilting slowly to press a kiss to her palm.

She registers the up-tick in her heartbeat before letting go and laying back down again.

Kara’s beginning to understand, now. Lena doesn’t want to wonder anymore, maybe if she knew where she came from, who she could’ve been, and what kind of life she could’ve led, existing wouldn’t be as hard as it is now. Maybe Lena wanted to know that a Luthor isn’t all that she is. Even though Kara has repeated again and again that she is so much more. Lena needs to figure that out for herself, Kara guesses.

Maybe, Lena finally needs a name other than what has been ingrained in her. Maybe Lena needs to name the parts of herself she never had before.

“Maybe you came from a family of thieves,” Kara murmurs, closing her eyes too.

“Kara.” she feels Lena shift, she opens one eye to see Lena propped on her elbows leaning over her. “Are you saying you think being a hoodie thief is genetic?”

“You never know, Lena you never know,” Kara manages to say, her brain a loop of, Lena’s eyes are so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, her hair smells so nice, please kiss me, please kiss-

Kara closes her eyes again to make the chanting stop.

“You do know I'm a scientist, right?”

“Mm. Doesn’t make you any less of a hoodie thief.”

That earns her a pillow on the face.

“Personally, I think you’re some lost princess though," Kara divulges.

Lena lets out a loud incredulous laugh at that.

“What?" Lena blurts out, "You think I’m a princess?”

There’s a cheesy pick-up line there somewhere that Kara chooses to ignore.

“Well, you have the whole Snow White look down to a T, after all. Pale skin, dark hair. The whole ensemble really.”

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Lena groans, “but, I think you might be right. God, I even have the whole evil stepmother-stepbrother dynamic down. Does that make you one of my dwarfs?”

“Dwarf? Really? Lena, really?”

She’s glad to learn that Lena had picked up a thing or two from their Disney marathons. That doesn’t mean Kara appreciates being called a dwarf though. She sits up and leans back on her elbows too; their faces inches from each other now. Lena’s eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You turn into Grumpy when someone eats your ice cream.”

Kara gasps, clutches her heart as if wounded and falls down dramatically. Lena just laughs at her, lies down again before asking, “Think I’ll find Prince Charming there, then?”

“You don’t need Prince Charming.”

I’m right here.

“True,” Lena agrees. Lena doesn’t need anybody, although would it really hurt if she says that she needed Kara the way Kara needs her?

“Ireland seems like the best place to run off into the sunset though," Lena wonders aloud.

“Is that what you wanna do?” Kara asks, “Just run off into the sunset?”

Because, because, if it is, I can do something even better. I can fly you off into the sunset. All you have to do is ask. Her heart is galloping in her chest and she’s grateful that out of the two of them, she’s the only one with super hearing.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lena answers and Kara lets out a none too subtle breath of relief.

“You don’t have to search for a home, you know,” Kara whispers. She just- She just needs Lena to know this, okay?

“I know,” Lena answers. “I still need to do this though.”

Once Lena Luthor makes up her mind there’s no changing it, it’s something Kara’s come to know through the years.

“You’ll come back soon though?”

“Maybe. Honestly, Kara? I don’t really know about ‘soon’. How close is ‘soon’ anyway? Would there even be a good reason for me to come back?”

How Kara held her all screams in the moment Lena said that, she doesn’t know.

******

There are balloons and cake and confetti but it doesn’t feel anything remotely close to a party.

It feels more something along the lines of, train wreck and heartbreak and building on fire. In short, disaster.

She vaguely registers Kelly asking her to hover and hang the banner. Why would she want to hang a banner screaming “We”ll Miss You!” in glittering blue? Kara grabs the ends of it and hangs it up anyway.

We’ll Miss You doesn't even begin to cover Kara’s feelings about Lena’s departure and oncoming absence.

But then again, this isn’t about her.

The door buzzes before Kara can spiral down her blackhole again.

Andrea comes in through the door with a bottle of champagne, which she hands off to Kara along with her coat. Kara fumbles after Andrea.

This isn’t CatCo! I’m not your employee! And champagne? Really? What is there to celebrate?

Lena arrives shortly after and streamers are let out. They make in-jokes and everyone’s laughing and Alex keeps telling Lena to bring home ‘some of the good stuff’ and Brainy keeps asking if he’s allowed to tinker with Lena’s projects while she's away, and Nia’s handing Lena an old film camera, “Document everything for me? Alright?" and Kara’s trying, she really, really is.

Even though she can’t understand how all of them are happy and smiling at the thought of Lena leaving them.

She doesn’t even notice what she’s doing till she’s bracing herself for take-off out in Lena’s balcony, when a hand lands on her wrist.

“Hey.” Lena anchors her back to the ground. It’s a mistake to turn and meet Lena’s eyes.

“Stay? Please?” Lena asks.

Unfair, Kara thinks again. It’s unfair that she gets to ask that.

******

Kara stays.

She stays till the lights are off, the blankets drawn and Lena’s snoring in her arms.

She’s eyeing the suitcase at the corner of the room.

I forgive you, she thinks, I forgive you for taking my heart in the suitcase you packed.

She didn’t even know it was trapped inside till Lena’s zipping everything up and Kara couldn’t breathe.

“Please, please, don’t go,” she pleads into the dark. .

Lena shifts, mumbles incoherently and burrows deeper into Kara.

******

The runway is shimmering after the early morning drizzle, and Lena Luthor looks like someone from a magazine, standing there in her velvet coat and aviators. There’s only the two of them, and there’s a smug pride in Kara about the fact that Lena didn’t want anybody here but her.

She’s leaving today. In a few hours, they’ll be on different continents. Kara wouldn’t be able to trace her heartbeat anymore. Lena made her promise not to chase the plane. She’s still pretty bummed about that.

“You know I’m gonna call you everyday, right?” Kara mutters in her ear, arms wrapped tight around Lena.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Kara Danvers.” Lena squeezes back, before pulling away.

“G-good.”

“Well, this is my ride,” Lena tells her, gestures to the jet behind her. “This is goodbye then.”

“For now.” Kara insists.

“For now.” Lena confirms, “Goodbye, for now.”

She turns to go but Kara can’t-

“Lena, wait.”

She tugs on Lena’s hand and she comes back to her willingly. Before Kara loses the nerve, she presses into Lena’s lips. She cups her face gently, feels the warmth of the sun on her cheeks, feels the moment Lena’s brain catches up to what’s happening.

It doesn’t taste like goodbye, Kara realizes. It tastes like a promise of something more.

“What was that for?” Lena breathes out, Kara can hear their hearts hammering in sync.

“Your reason to come back home.”

[special shoutout to @mssirey who gave great writing advice to this poor hapless writer（〃｀ 3′〃）i kith u on the forehead. ]

[legendarywizarddetective]

Hi everyone, I know it took me a while to finish my part of my lovely joint venture with @nashibirne ... Please don't be mad at me because life was a bit of a whirlwind lately. So now I just hope you will enjoy it.

PART 2: Hidden Treasure

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Summary: you are trapped in writers block but as you saw Henry's new post on Instagram your wheels start to turn

Words: appr. 2500

Warnings: smut, dirty thoughts, sextoys, pleasuring yourself

Featured stories:

Close-up/Up-Close

The Widow and the Witcher

Diegosbutt

No Beta! English is not our mother tongue, so there will be mistakes and they're all ours

Part 1

Writers block sucks so damn much. Y/N was sitting on her sofa trying to write on her WIPs but it didn’t work. She had to face the truth "witchersgirl91" was out of order at the moment.

She felt bad about it. All those followers she had gained since she joined Tumblr that waited for the next chapters. Frustrated Y/N took her phone and started to scroll through her dashboard, hoping that some of her favourite blogs could give her some comfort. Soon she found a story that she loved dearly, "Close-Up/ Up-Close" from nashibirne. Damn was she talented, all her stories were so amazing and well written that Y/N could just wish for being as good as her one day. There were so many super talented writers in that fandom... Which fandom you might ask yourself now... well "witchersgirl91" was obviously a part of Henry Cavill's fandom. She was part of it since she saw the mighty white wolf on Netflix in 2019.

Intrigued and fascinated by his acting skills she digged deeper and soon found fanfics about him, something she read the last time in her teens. Inevitably Y/N fell down the Tumblr rabbit hole and what started as silent reader led soon into a "writing career". Well sometimes she had to remind herself, that she was writing for herself at first hand and that besides the number of likes and reblogs the most important thing was that she herself liked her stories. Up until now Y/N made quite a decent number of followers and found some incredible friends online. One of them she even talked to daily and Y/N was happy to have her in her live because she came close to an older sister she never had. Scrolling further down her dash Y/N found another gem she had already read before but "henryobsessed" "The Widow and the Witcher" was totally worth another go through. In contrast to Y/N many of the writers on Tumblr wrote not just only rpf about Henry himself but also fics about his many characters. Especially diegosbutt who wrote incredible stories about Henry's Captain Syverson. After half an hour into reading about The Witcher and his romance with the handsome widow Y/Ns Instagram notifications came to life. The object of desire, Mr. Cavill himself finally had posted something again. Damn him... such a tease Y/N thought to herself as she looked at the pictures. At first there was a sweet pic of Kal sniffing at some grapes at a vineyard, so gorgeous and heart-warming. Mr. C knew exactly how much in love his fans were with his fury companion. But the third slide made Y/N gasp in shock... "Holy crap these motherfu*****" The photo showed Henry on a boat in nothing else but swimming shorts. His hair all natural and curly, his strong hairy chest nicely on display, a Caipirinha in his hand and the most beautiful smile on his lips. He looked so stunning, relaxed and sexy as hell. So here comes the thirst trap Y/N thought. As she scrolled through the comments below the post she saw that the thirst had already begun. Well who was she to judge anyone, she wasn’t any better. Henry Cavill lived rent free in her mind most of all time and honestly these swimming trunks and his body did things to her and she involuntarily clenched her thighs together, heat spreading through her core. Y/N let her mind flow for a bit and then BANG "plot bunny alert". She was exited, for the first time in weeks she had an idea for a story. Y/N stood up, nearly spilled her coffee and walked over to her desk where her sketchbook laid. Yes, a sketchbook, Y/N was a little old-fashioned when it came to creativity, she had to write down her ideas onto paper, just let the words flow and make them persistent with ink.

Ok so this one will be pure pwp, but that’s a good start to go back to business and the cavillry will hopefully love it anyways. And so Hidden Treasure came to live.

 

Hidden Treasure:

 

you were finally living your dream and made it to be a part of the second season of the Witcher. Even if you were just an extra with just a short amount of screen time, it did not matter to you, you were extremely grateful for this opportunity. It was your sixth week on set now and you were still completely mesmerized by the detailed work and the fantastic world the producers had created. what made your work all the more exciting was the fact that you had a massive crush on the lead actor Henry Cavill. Up until now caught glimpses of him during lunch breaks and when you saw him leaving the hair and makeup trailer. Admiring him from afar was more than you had ever hoped for. He lived rent free in your mind for quite a while now and was one of the reasons why you fell in love with the series. To see him in real life now did things to you. Nearly every night you laid in your trailer and got off to thinking about Henry in his Geralt costume. You were fully content with that situation because you would never even consider that Henry would notice you. But in the last two weeks you had the strange feeling that he watched you during your small scenes and your fight training... but honestly that must have been your mind playing a trick… never would THE Henry Cavill look out for a small nobody like you but nonetheless you enjoyed the feeling of being seen and important.

Today you got a notice from the producers that you needed to go to another filming area with just a small part of the team. Just the two other extras, the producers and camera crew and Henry. As you heard them talk about it your heart nearly stopped... how should you survive this? Watching Henry from afar was one thing but being in the same space as him for nearly two days was something completely different. You knew you would be constantly aroused by his presence and just hoped that you could hide it to not embarrass yourself in front of your bosses.

When you reached your destination it soon became clear that there weren’t enough bedrooms for everyone. So, you needed to share a room with the two other extras. That was no problem for you because you liked your female colleagues very much and the three of you had much fun together, they even made fun of your crush sometimes. After you put your bags in your room you already had to go to hair and make up to get ready for the scene. As you opened the door you thought you must faint. Henry himself sat in one of the chairs... topless, his broad chest on display... his wig already on his head... without thinking you clenched your legs together as a heat started to spread from your centre "get your fucking act together..." you scolded yourself silently and stepped into the trailer and greeted Henry with a short and shy Hello. He looked up to you and met your eyes with one of his Hollywood smiles... "gosh that jawline “As you sat down in your chair you felt how wet your panties already were and started to shift uncomfortably. As subtle as possible you tried to clench your thighs to get some release. From the corner of your eye you thought you saw Henry smirking but you tried not to think about it too much. You grabbed the script in front of you and started to read through the scene for today ... and that hit you hard. Now you knew why Henry was topless... it was another bathing scene in a pond in the woods. great now you had to endure your arousal for the whole goddamn day and you couldn’t do anything about it.

In between the several takes it felt like Henry could smell and sense your arousal and the slick between your folds because every once in a while, he looked at you with an undefinable spark in his eyes...and if you wouldn’t know it better you could have thought that his eyes seemed to be blown by lust... that thought alone nearly drove you mad. You prayed for the day to find an end so that you could finally provide yourself some relief.

Which wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be because obviously you had to share your bedroom and the bathroom too. so, you had to wait until everyone fell asleep and slip into the empty and dark bathroom on the 2nd floor. Fortunately, you had packed your pink dildo so you were able to fill yourself up while dreaming of Henry. As you stepped into the dark room you wasted no more time and placed the dildo onto the wall in the shower and dropped your panties to the floor, they were of course soaking wet from all day’s arousal. You started to play with yourself slowly, stroking your sensitive folds and your clit gently. But you were already so worked up that you needed a quick release. In one swift move you pushed your tight cunt against the dildo on the wall, closed your eyes and imagined Henry grabbing you by your hips and pounding into you relentlessly. You started to moan and shiver... the feeling of Henrys cock inside of you made you dizzy ... he felt so good hitting your cervix with each deep thrust "Oh fuck Henry...harder... deeper...fuck me please" escaped your lips without thinking. You circled your clit to the rhythm of your slapping hips already near the edge to earth-shaking pleasure. You felt your own juices flow down your thighs and kept on fucking yourself with the toy, throwing your head back your moans grew louder and louder. You already lost it now but what was your undoing was your imagination playing you the trick of Henrys deep guttural growl while he pounded even deeper and harder than before "fuck... ahh.. Henry ... I am Cumming" with shaking limps you fell over the edge and your release gushed down between you. With closed eyes you rode out your orgasm not aware of the fact that the growl you heard wasn’t born out of your imagination... not in the slightest.

What you didn’t know was the fact that Henry was as worked up from the day as were you. What you didn’t know was the fact that Henry had a crush on you since he saw you first. What you didn’t know was the fact that he needed his sweet release as well and came to the empty bathroom for the exact same reason as you...with the only difference that he didn’t find it empty. In your haste you did not close the door properly and as Henry stood in front of the door he heard your silent moans and the squelching sound of your wet pussy around the dildo. He slowly and carefully pushed the door a little more open and nearly lost his mind seeing you standing there pleasuring yourself in the most sinful but sexiest way. He pulled down his briefs a bit so his already hard cock sprang free and started to stroke himself. Precum dripping down his length. He knew it would not take long for him to cum with the sight you provided and he had to bite his lip hard not to make a sound. but as he heard you moan his name he could not hold back his deep growl ... which surprisingly sent you over the edge hard and fast... that sight alone brought him to ecstasy as well and he spilled himself over his fist. As he came down from his high he was sure about one thing... he needed to have you... he needed to search this hidden treasure.

 

She dropped her pen, leaned back in her chair and could feel the adrenaline rush...yes that’s it... that’s a good piece to come back into action. Now the only thing was to post again. Hopefully her old followers would like what she wrote and maybe she could gain some more. Half an hour later she already had the first notifications on her story and could fall asleep grateful and with of course Henry in mind.

Taglist: @lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @eldarwen333 @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @radaofrivia @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @sillyrabbit81 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @kingliam2019 @pandaxnienke

[quicksandblock]

MCYT Demographic Survey Part 2 RESULTS

IT’S TIME!!!

Once again, thank you so much to everyone who participated! 1,654 people total responded to this - about four and a half times as many respondents as the first survey. It’s honestly incredible. I’m so happy the rest of you are as interested as I am in this stuff :D

The increased turnout is also why these results are being posted two days later than I’d intended. I want to give a HUGE thank you to my friend @quincepastey​ and my sibling @orestes-swimming​ for helping me out, and by helping I do mean they did basically all of the technical stuff for me, because my knowledge of spreadsheets was not up to the task. So thank you to Cupid for organizing all the data from questions 3 and 4 into something comprehensible for me, and thank you to Kal for making the charts! They are absolutely the MVPs and everyone reading this should go check them out. Thank you guys so much <3

Reblogs of this post are very appreciated. It would be awesome if the info about the results could reach everyone who submitted a response, so if you reblogged my first post about this survey, please consider reblogging this one as well!

For your convenience, here’s a link to the results of the first survey I did six months ago. Now - on to the results!

Question 1: What is your age range?

Compared to the results of the first survey, we can see that things have changed a bit! Specifically, the fandom has shifted just a little bit older. The solid majority of the fandom is still in the 15-17 year old range, but it’s gone down from almost half to closer to 40%. Almost a third of the fandom are ages 18-20, up from close to a fifth six months ago. 21-25 year olds have increased from about 10% to about 14%. And the youngest segment, 13-14 year olds, have gone from almost 20% of the fandom down to 12% - the sharpest change of all.

Finally, nearest and dearest to my own heart, there are now 26 whole people in the fandom aged 26-30 and 9 people aged 30+. Old Squad is growing, folks. We are... the 2% 😎 Special shoutout to the person who said their 15 year old kid got them into the fandom. I hope you know just how cool you are.

These results are interesting, but it’s also impossible to say how accurate the data is. This survey and the previous one were only posted on my blog, and they only reached a wider audience through the reblogs of my followers. So do these changes reflect actual changes in the demographics of the fandom as a whole, or is it just that my followers (and the people who follow them) have shifted older? To try to avoid this bias in the future, I may reach out to some well-known younger bloggers and ask them to reblog the next survey I do so that I can reach a more even audience.

Question 2: What is your gender?

Apologies for the small text, but there were so many unique write-in answers that I wanted to include them all. You may want to open the image in a separate tab for better quality.

In contrast to the age question, the gender spread of the fandom has remained pretty much the same. About half the fandom is still female, the nonbinary crowd has increased from 20% to 25%, 7% of us are male, almost 7% are genderfluid, and about 5% are agender. Just like last time, most of the write-in responses fell into the vague categories of either genderqueer or questioning.

No surprises on this one! The fandom continues to be overwhelmingly female and queer. Next time I think I’ll include genderqueer and questioning as options to try to catch some of those people into a formal category. All y’all are so valid, especially the person who wrote in their gender as “soup” <3

The results for questions 3 and 4 will be under a cut, because I don’t want to completely destroy people’s dashes.

Before I get into the last two questions, a couple notes. First, I want to explain how I came up with the list of creators, since a lot of people were either excited or disappointed by the fact that a few different people were on there.

On the last survey, this question was a write-in, and I had to transcribe and collate all the answers by hand to come up with the actual number of people who followed each creator. For this survey, I simply took the list that came out of the previous one and pasted it in! I also added a few people who no one wrote in six months ago but who are much more prominent now (Ranboo being the biggest example). So if you were excited to see your favorite small creator listed as an option, they were there because someone wrote them in last time! And if you wrote in your favorite small creator here, they’ll be an option on the next survey. The list is entirely crowdsourced and it will expand with each survey.

That said, the same also applies for more controversial creators. Specifically, I’m talking about CallMeCarson. Several people questioned my decision to keep him on the list - and to be honest, I considered taking him out. But in the end I decided to leave him in as an option for the sake of completeness and consistency with the previous survey. I want to emphasize that this is not me condoning his actions. But for the sake of the data, I felt that it was best to leave him in.

That said, let’s move on to questions 3 and 4!

Question 3: What creator(s) do you primarily follow?

So, it’s harder to compare with the previous survey on this one, and that’s purely because on the previous survey I didn’t have the help I did here. The chart I was able to make for the results back in October was frankly trash. Also, the fact that I split “followed creators” into two questions - primarily and casually followed - definitely throws things off. However, we can still do a certain amount of comparison!

The most obvious change is Ranboo. He straight up was not on the previous survey at all - I think he’d been streaming for less than a month at the time. Now, about 55% of respondents listed him as someone they primarily follow. The Dream SMP itself has also jumped dramatically. Previously, about 5% of people wrote in Dream SMP. That has increased to over half. Quackity has gone from less than 2% to about 30%. Karl has gone from 4% to 30%. Phil has gone from about 8% to a little under 50%. The SBI have jumped from 11% to over 40%.

Techno has gone from about 50% to over 60%. Tommy has gone from 45% to over 55%. Wilbur has jumped from 43% to 55%. Tubbo has remained steady at about 38%.

Dream has apparently dropped some of his following percentage-wise, falling from 50% to about 35%. However, George, Sapnap, and the Dream Team itself have all jumped from 10-12% to almost 30%.

I’m not going to go over the rest of the list, because that would just get way too long. However, I will drop a link to the spreadsheets of data for this survey and the previous one, so anyone who wants to can do some comparison of their own!

Question 4: What creators do you casually follow?

I won’t do as detailed of a comparison on this question, because there’s nothing to compare it to - this question wasn’t on the previous survey. However, it’s interesting to see how many more people follow Fundy, Nihachu, BadBoyHalo, Captain Puffy, Eret, Awesamdude, and Jack Manifold casually rather than as a primary favorite. Out of the top twelve, Karl, Quackity, Phil, and Tubbo are the only ones who don’t have a major discrepancy between the amount of people who follow them casually versus primarily.

I would be curious to hear people’s thoughts on why that’s the case! Personally, I would guess it’s a combination of each of their approaches to lore on the Dream SMP, the frequency and times of day that they stream, and the people they tend to make content with and be associated with by the fandom. I may go into that more later, but this post is already very long, so I’ll hold off for now. Here’s a link to this question’s spreadsheet for anyone who wants to take a closer look!

...And that’s a wrap! Good grief, this got long. Kudos to anyone who actually read the whole thing because I know my attention span would be challenged. I’m already thinking about the next survey - a couple people suggested that I add in questions about orientation and nationality, and while I want to keep the survey pretty tight in its scope, I am considering it. It would be even more data to process but it would be interesting to know!

I would love to hear people’s thoughts on these results! I’m only one person, so I know there’s interesting stuff I must have missed. Please, please feel free to reblog with your thoughts and observations! A lot of work went into this (both from me and from Cupid and Kal! Thank you guys again!), so I’m really hoping to hear what people think about it :D

I plan to reblog this and reply to some of the things people wrote in at the end, so stay tuned for that. And once again: thank you all for your interest in this project of mine <3 See you with another one in six months!

[clonecumber]

Niner for the character ask (but in like a month or two because you've written so many of these! 😅)

I appreciate the generous timeline, but you're asking me about my favorite character here.

(Thank you :) )

First impression : You know the beat up old stuffed toy who just looks like they have seen some shit that some people have? That was Niner to kid me. I latched on to him like a limpet, and expressed this affection by throwing him at every weirdass plot a kid my age could come up with. I had a thing for "oldest sibling"/"leader" character types with anxiety who are under a lot of pressure and just really, really wanted things to do what they were supposed to do and Niner hit all my buttons. Him and Silverbolt from the G1 Transformers cartoon, man. I put them through the wringer.

Impression now : Honestly, hasn't changed much? Mostly it's just gained new elements and perspective. I have a much better appreciation for his obstinacy and temper, which is a part of his character I sort of slept on when I was a child, and especially how it lives alongside his deeply caring nature (and anxiety), for better and for worse. I really like that he feels things very deeply, and needs to express his thoughts and feelings externally to really process them, but struggles with actually articulating those strong emotions and difficult thoughts to the point he usually just ends up blurting them out in a really garbled or unfiltered way that either confuses anyone who doesn't speak fluent Niner...or straight up pisses them off (looking at A'den). But also that he keeps working at it. He doesn't just, you know, shrug and go, "Oh, well, guess that's that," like Ordo does with his total inability to act reassuring even though he notes it as a problem at least twice in the series, or Kal does with his...everything. Instead he actively tries to improve. Most of his confused emotional outbursts happen when he's younger too, which is another fun thing, because we get to watch Niner grow into himself a bit over the course of the series. By 501st, Niner's shown on page to have been looking into things to understand and help Darman, and understanding his own limitations to the extent he goes out and finds answers so he can better help. We also see him reaching out to his squad in Order 66 similarly, which makes me think he's been trying to learn better communication skills and deepen his emotional literacy for awhile. Compare to Hard Contact and his way of approaching Fi in literally their first chapter together, and how he tries to get Fi to talk to him later in the book when Fi flat-out tells him he's checked out of the situation with Atin because he can't deal with it otherwise. Young!Niner keeps pushing at Fi because he wants to help, which only makes Fi lash out at him. It's a stark contrast to how he handles Darman in 501st, where he's consistent about checking on Darman and making sure Darman knows he's there for him without actually pushing him past where he's ready to go, which I thought was pretty great character development. This is less a general impression than a fixation on a particular part of his character, I know, but it's what I've got.

Also think it's hilarious that Niner is 100% transparent in a book where everyone is playing some sort of game 90% of the time. He is capable of chewing a man up one side and down the other in the same breath he tucks them in and asks if they want a glass of water and not a single person in his life ever feels like these are somehow mixed messages. He doesn't play emotional games and he doesn't withhold affection because he's irritated with someone, and so no one in his life doubts his affection and goodwill even when it's coming with a heavy dose of stress fussing.

Honestly, everyone in the book says Niner emulates Kal, but sometimes I think Niner is actually just much closer to being the guy Kal thinks he is to his kids.

Favorite moment : I've had a policy of never looking these up to check my memory and also for going with the first, most vivid scene to pop in my head, so: Niner in TZ when he covered a sleeping Skirata with a blanket. Just him standing over him with his hands on his hips and tutting, and then going to get the blanket and tucking this fifty-something year old man in, was just. So very Niner. Also not something we often get to see male characters doing in media, especially for other adult characters, and especially for other adult, male characters, for all that I don't actually want to give KT any sort of points in that direction whatsoever. I'm aware it was probably supposed to be more about Skirata than Niner, but it was a very nice moment regardless, and character-defining for Niner, I think.

Idea for a story : *slams fist on desk* CUDDLING. In a purely platonic way, I want to see Niner to have control taken away from him for a bit by someone he trusts, who wants to do that for him. I vote Boss.

I've only ever seen this written in a BDSM context? Which isn't really what I'm going for, but I guess if you can do platonic BDSM elements, then...that?

Just let him be quiet for awhile and not have to worry about anything. Cherish the man. Platonically.

Unpopular opinion : There are no such things as popular opinions here, I think, lol. Uhh, I don't know, I'm pretty attached to my "Niner is a sheepdog" comparison. I feel like it really says it all.

Favorite relationship : I've been intrigued by his relationship with Boss ever since I was a child and that has not changed. I think their dynamic is interesting and - while it has evolved a bit with time and age - hasn't actually shifted that much from my initial read of it. I feel like their personalities are an interesting blend of clashing and perfectly complimentary, and they can relate to each other in a way they can't with their squads. I sort of see them growing on each other like fungii.

Favorite headcanon : That Niner is very, very ace. I go back and forth a bit on the aro side of things, but even then I tend to lean toward quoiromantic at most.

---

https://clonecumber.dreamwidth.org/3866.html - post with all the collected asks

[soulmate-game]

Part 1 … Part 2

“So, How was your first day of school in America?” Lois asked as her small family all sat around the table eating dinner. It was almost painfully ordinary, traditional. A married couple and two kids eating a normal dinner and talking about their day.

All of them appreciated that one piece of normalcy in their worlds of superheroes and villains and PTSD.

Marinette snorted, almost choking on her forkful of food. After managing to somehow swallow without causing herself discomfort, she smiled at her mother figure.

“Honestly? I know Jon could fly and I could teleport to school in practically no time at all, but somehow Damian still manages to seem more impressive.”

“Right?!” Jon agreed emphatically, leaning over the table towards her and almost getting his whole plate of food smashed against his chest. “Probably because helicopters are huge and look awesome, but we’re still just us when we use our powers.”

Marinette nodded sagely at that reasoning as if it was something actually serious. Tikki, who was sitting next to her plate with a half-eaten cookie, giggled.

“That makes sense. But be careful Kaalki doesn’t hear you referring to them as ‘not impressive—‘“ Marinette was cut off before she could even finish her sentence.

“Too late, I already heard that blasphemy,” the other Kwami’s voice carried down from upstairs, making Lois and Clark’s lips twitch up in amusement. “I’m a god, dear, I have even better hearing than Kal-El,” for some reason the little horse god always referred to the boys by their kryptonian names, but they didn’t seem to mind much. “Not as impressive as a helicopter, hah! See if I let you use my fabulous powers anytime soon, Guardian or no Guardian.”

Marinette just rolled her eyes. Technically she could just command Kaalki, but that was against her morals and the horse god would never keep her from responding to an Akuma attack anyway. This was just harmless teasing.

And it was really nice in contrast to everything they were used to dealing with.

“Okay, but besides the helicopter,” Clark pressed gently after everyone’s chuckles quieted down. His face was open with genuine curiosity, and a little bit of worry that Marinette caught onto instantly. “I know Damian isn’t always the easiest person to get along with or understand. Did the rest of the day go by alright?”

Marinette actually set her fork down on her plate, her smile turning a little gentle. “Actually? Yeah. When we first spoke I thought he was a stuck-up jerk like some of my ex-friends and a bully of mine from Paris. But he’s just not good with people,” Marinette’s smile turned even softer as she gazed down at the table, at some memory nobody else could see. “It reminds me of my friend Kagami, from Paris. She acts pretty similar. Really impersonal and prickly on the outside, but once you get to know her she’s the most loyal friend you’ll have. Her mom is really strict though, and Kagami never got to interact with a lot of kids her own age, so she still has issues figuring out how to behave around others sometimes,” Marinette actually ended up laughing a little, rubbing the back of her neck. “We uh, we actually had a crush on the same person back when we first met and it sparked a pretty rough rivalry for a while. Once we got past that though, we ended up being best friends.”

Jon snickered, trading knowing glances with their parents. They had already agreed that, unless Damian or Bruce told her themselves, Marinette would have to figure out the Bat’s identities on her own.

“That sounds very familiar,” Jon stated with a little nod. “Me and Damian fought when we first met, too. Legend has it that Dad and Bruce, Damian’s dad, didn’t get along right away either.”

It was Clark’s turn to snort. “I think it’s just a Wayne thing,” the man agreed, amused. “They don’t like getting close to anyone right off the bat,” Lois kicked his leg under the table for that pun, but Clark cheerfully ignored it. “It is pretty funny that you have a similar experience with someone completely unrelated, though. Maybe we should invite her over sometime? Do you know when her school’s next break is?”

Marinette sat up straight in her chair, her smirk wide and almost blinding at the prospect of seeing one of her closest friends in person again. They video chatted and called often enough, but it wasn’t the same. “Actually! Kagami told me that she’s going to Gotham next month for a fencing competition. She’s an Olympic hopeful, you know. She has to make a good enough impression in different national and international competitions to be selected,” Marinette was almost bouncing in her seat, looking like a female version of Jon for a moment with her vibrant blue eyes shining with rare unhindered excitement and her body unable to stay still from the energy.

“I heard that Gotham was holding the World fencing finals this year,” Lois remarked, but kept eye contact with Clark for a moment as the two communicated silently in a way even telepaths couldn’t copy. Marinette recognized the hesitance in their faces, and her bouncing stopped immediately. She knew why they would be reluctant to let her go.

“I know Gotham is dangerous and I still have attacks pretty often,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, but firm in a way that the rest of their little family hadn’t heard from her much at all. It made Clark and Lois look at her, waiting for her to finish making her point patiently. “But self defense isn’t really an issue. Even without any powers, without transforming, I…” Marinette took a breath to steel herself before continuing. “I learned martial arts from Maman. And I’ve used the Miraculous so long that all the combat experience of the previous Ladybugs is mostly muscle memory by now. And Kagami is more than just a fencer, her mom’s trained her in all sorts of sword fighting her whole life. Trust me, nobody messes with Kagami and gets away with it easily,” Marinette actually looked down at her hands, watching as she essentially had a thumb war with herself to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.

“I don’t think physical attacks are what we’re worried about,” Lois admitted slowly, frowning. “I mean, yes, it’s a concern. But if I remember the dates for the competition correctly, I’ll be out of town for my first long distance job since you came to live with us. Clark will be at work during the day on the weekend, though maybe he can get a day or two off,” Lois gently worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a second. “I suppose, if Jon wants to go with you, it wouldn’t be as much of a problem if something happens…”

Oh. They weren’t worried about people attacking her. They were worried about her own mind. Which, after the last few months? Was perfectly fair.

“I don’t mind if—“

But, as life usually ended up, they were interrupted from their peace. Everyone jolted in their seats as the door was unceremoniously kicked down, and a man in his early twenties walked in carrying a mountain of boxes in his arms. Marinette blinked, no longer on guard since the rest of her new family immediately relaxed. But still, she was confused. Nobody said anything about having a visitor today.

“I know, I know. I haven’t been in touch for way too long, give us a little forewarning, blah blah blah. I brought presents this time though,” the man said, cheerful and casual and blasé. With the boxes on the center of the dining table, Marinette could finally get a good look at him.

He was probably about twenty four or twenty five, if Marinette’s ever-sharp eyes were correct (they hardly ever weren’t), and his hair was spiked up with a bit of gel, but not too much. Just enough to give it kind of a tousled-rebel look, and it was cropped close to his head on the sides. He had on a black leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders and slightly down the arms, with slightly baggy black jeans and a plain, worn red shirt. Dark black sunglasses rested on the top of his head, even though the sun had been down for a while.

He did not meet the usual Kent aesthetic of a charming, traditional nuclear family. He was more of an… oddly joyful punk. It actually gave her slight Luka and Jagged vibes, and made her relax a bit into her chair. Contrary to what most might think, Marinette had a bit of a soft spot for the punk rocker look. Most people, that she had met at least, who wore it on a regular basis were amazing people with great senses of humor and large personalities.

“Old man, I got you socks,” he called out with a lazy smirk, chucking the first small box over at Clark. The man caught it with a fond eye roll.

“You always get me socks.”

“Maybe if you stopped being boring, I’d get you something better,” the stranger mocked with good humor. “Lois, jewelry that you’ll never wear,” he handed the box over to the woman with significantly more care, before sliding over one of the bigger boxes to her as well. “And a new camera that you will actually use.”

“Hey, Wait a second, you know you don’t have to—“

“And for the squirt,” the man interrupted without letting Lois finish saying that there was no need to spend so much money. He tossed the last big boxes over to Jon one at a time carelessly, smirking the whole time that Jon playfully scrambled for them. “Video games, geeky shirts, and inside jokes,” he stated happily.

With the table now clear of boxes, he finally noticed the extra body. He blinked, making silent eye contact with Marinette for a tense moment.

“Okay, she’s too old to be a secret child. Did someone make another clone? Did Jon get a girlfriend that looks freakishly like a long lost Asian family member? What did I miss?” He asked, never taking his eyes off Marinette. Clark grimaced.

“If you didn’t break your phone so often, maybe we would have been able to tell you sooner,” the man said slowly, cautiously, with his eyes never straying from the stranger. “This is Marinette. Marinette, this is Connor. He’s… Jon’s brother,” the pause there was a bit odd, and Marinette frowned at the look on Clark’s face. It was like he didn’t know what to say at all, or how to say it. “Marinette is living with us for the foreseeable future. If we get the chance we might officially adopt her, so she isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Woah woah woah, what?” Marinette’s voice came out a lot squeakier than intended, the girl thoroughly whiplashed by this situation. It was hard to think straight. “I— we never talked about adoption.” Clark’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, not in as many words,” he conceded slowly. “It would be incredibly hard, and we wanted to give you time to settle in before asking. But… well, you’re officially an American citizen and we all feel like you’re family already. So…”

“You wouldn’t have to change your name,” Lois was quick to interject, watching Marinette’s face worriedly. “And you can say no. You’re already a Kent. We would just like to make it official legally, if and when you’re ready.”

“Okay, stop making the poor girl freak out,” Connor interrupted, eyes also on Marinette and gentle in their concern. He gave her a lopsided smile. “Ignore them. Clark never had great timing that wasn’t related to legitimate danger. So, sorry I didn’t get you anything,” he leaned back casually, thumbs hooked on his jacket pockets lazily. “Didn’t expect I’d have a new sister when I came back to visit.”

Marinette calmed down a little, but emotions still overflowed in her head, her chest still tight and the air feeling too thin. She offered Connor a shaky smile before standing up, looking over to Clark and Lois. “Um, I— can I— I’m tired.”

Clark sighed, nodding even as his face fell at Marinette’s state. “Yeah. We’ll talk about the competition some more in the morning, get some rest.”

The girl only nodded before making a hasty retreat up to her room, even forgetting to take care of her only half-empty plate. Tikki did her best to calm her bolder down from her place hidden in the girl’s hair, but it wasn’t doing much good. She just needed space, and time to try and process everything.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Aren’t you cold?” Connor’s voice made Marinette jolt, looking over at him with wide eyes. Nobody had ever followed her on her post-nightmare trips before. She wasn’t even transformed. She just sat, in her pajamas, on the empty terrace of her old home. It hadn’t been sold yet so she wasn’t worried about scaring anybody.

“I… should have expected you to be the other Superboy, honestly,” Marinette deflected with a weak smile before turning to look over the city again. She licked her lips, trying to calm herself down. “And yeah, I’m a little cold, but it’s no big deal. I’ll just go back home before it gets too bad.”

“You’re trembling,” he pointed out casually. And she was, her whole body was practically vibrating against the terrace railing. Marinette only gave out a pitiful laugh.

“That’s not from the cold.”

Connor only sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall behind them. Gave the girl a little space.

“What did… What did Clark and Lois tell you? About me?” Marinette decided to ask tentatively. Connor raised one brow, honestly a little surprised that she didn’t also have super hearing to go with her powers. It was slowly becoming more and more obvious that Marinette was not exactly like the other Kents, and Connor only liked the jumpy little girl more for it.

“As much as they could without feeling like they were crossing a line,” Connor admitted. “That they took you in after an accident during a metropolis attack a few months ago, when you had nobody else reliable enough to take care of you. That you’re not Kryptonian, but still special and knew about all of our identities already. But strangely enough they didn’t mention teleportation or the fact that you were a Parisian superhero, not that I’m really all that surprised.”

Marinette smiled, snickering a bit at that last part before sobering again. “Is it… weird?”

Connor silently examined the girl for a moment, she probably expected him to ask what she meant. And maybe if he was anybody else, he would have.

“To suddenly come home to a new person that I’m suddenly supposed to accept as a part of the family? Not really. In fact, you’re probably the most normal surprise I’ve dealt with in years.”

“But,” Marinette looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed and blue eyes swimming with uncertainty. “But I just show up out of nowhere, and you really just accept me? Just like that? I mean, you’ve known me less than a day and you just saw me teleport to Paris in the middle of the night— you aren’t worried at all? Or suspicious, or— you really just accept me just like that?”

Connor couldn’t help but chuckle, pushing himself off the wall to lean over the terrace railing with her. “You know, technically I’m only eight years old.”

Marinette flinched with surprise at the subject change, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Connor laughed at her confusion, rustling her hair a bit. “I’m a clone. I was made with Superman’s DNA, and that of another asshole we won’t mention. Don’t tell Lois I swore. Anyway, I was ‘born’ as a teenager,” he used finger quotations to show that he wasn’t exactly born normally. “With all the mental development and knowledge of a sixteen year old. Pretty much, anyway, but I was still a newborn,” he shrugged. “Clark wasn’t exactly thrilled. Jon was eight at the time, which is why Clark can never decide if I’m the older or younger brother, and he wasn’t exactly planning on another kid back then. Not to mention the whole ‘created in order to kill Superman if he ever went bad,’ and ‘might be a spy because I was made by his arch nemesis’ thing,” Connor waved his hand as if this blasé info dump didn’t actually matter. Marinette just gaped at him, which made it hard for the guy not to smirk. “Point is, Clark was suspicious. Didn’t exactly want anything to do with me. Can’t say I completely forgive him, but it’s mostly water under the bridge nowadays. Especially when we found out that I did have trigger words, and I was unknowingly dangerous. Don’t worry, those trigger words were erased ages ago. Anyway, Clark eventually got his act together. Gave me the Kryptonian name Kon-el, had me live with him for a little bit. We worked it all out,” Connor turned back to Marinette, taking his sunglasses off so he could look her in the eye properly. “I really don’t think a Ladybug is exactly threatening in comparison.”

Marinette was silent for a moment.

“You know I could throw you off this balcony, right?”

“Eh, I can fly.”

Another moment passed before Marinette couldn’t help it, and started giggling. Those giggles turned to laughs, which quickly turned into joyful bellows. Connor joined in, smiling as he laughed alongside her.

“But… you like it with them, right?” Connor suddenly asked, looking over at her. “I know Jon can be a bit overexcitable, and Clark is an annoying boy scout.”

Marinette just shrugged. “Well, it’s not too bad,” she said softly. “I mean, at least neither of them can die by getting crushed by falling debris. So that’s an improvement at least.” Marinette instantly went pale at her own words, slapping a hand over her mouth. Connor snorted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s the exhaustion talking. C’mon, let’s get you back in bed before Clark accuses me of corrupting you.”

Marinette just nodded, doing the world’s quietest transformation before opening a portal back to her room. She was already detransformed, Connor having one hand on her doorknob, when she spoke up again.

“Uh, Kon?” She fidgeted, not able to look up at him. “Thanks.”

The man just smirked, shrugging his leather-clad shoulders. “That’s what family’s for, right?”

Marinette smiled, huffing out a tired laugh. “By the way? I’m glad at least one of you Supers has a sense of fashion.”

“We heard that!”

Connor and Marinette broke back out into guffaws, and the girl couldn’t help but think that she was really grateful for her new family. Maybe she wouldn’t call Clark dad or Lois mom anytime soon, those wounds were still too raw, but maybe eventually. And she’d never had brothers before.

Yeah. This was nice.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 4

I don’t think this ended up as good as the others..? But this is the best way I could write this part. Why is this story turning out longer than expected? Geez I need to learn self control. At least this one was actually kinda fluffy.

@fantasiame @thestressmademedoit @amayakans @resignedcatservant @too0bsessedformyowngood @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @bigpicklebananatree @thezestywalru @bugaboosandbees @ironspiderstark @mikantsume @marinettepotterandplagg

[thevindicativevordan]

Metallo

I wanted to talk about one of my favorite DC villains, a guy who I’ve always thought was incredibly cool. A guy who I’ve thought makes a really awesome contrast for Superman. A guy who has never been in stories that have utilized his potential in my eyes:

Let’s talk about Metallo.

Metallo’s Background

He’s one of Superman’s oldest Rogues, and also one of the Rogues who has gone through the most revamps. The Golden Age Superman fought a guy called Metalo aka George Grant who created a suit of armor made out of the strongest metal on Earth (something that would resurface in the Grant Morrison revamp during the New 52) and a super strength serum that made him Superman’s physical equal. In an odd way he was an evil proto-Iron Man/Post Crisis Lex Luthor:

The John Corben take wouldn’t show up until the 1950s, created by Robert Bernstein and Al Plastino. This was the foundation for the modern conception of Metallo:

Right off the bat Corben was positioned as an Anti-Superman, predating Bizarro who wouldn’t show up until later. Corben worked as a journalist to cover up his real activities as a murderer and thief. An accident that nearly killed him and crippled his human body, forced him to accept a deal with a scientist to transfer his mind to a new artificial body. The scientist transferred his mind into an android body covered in synthetic bulletproof skin, gifting Corben with super strength. The synthetic skin idea would be used in Byrne’s revamp and the DCAU incarnation. He was initially powered by uranium, but was told he would need Kryptonite to fuel himself permanently. Corben would also act as a romantic rival for Clark via wooing Lois with his pretense of being Superman’s secret identity.

Ultimately John Corben would die in his debut issue, after mistaking a museum prop for the actual Kryptonite he needed to power himself. I often wonder if the character might have been better off if he had not been killed off in his debut, similarly to how the Joker was saved from dying in his debut by editorial. There were many intriguing ideas present in Corben’s creation: He was a romantic rival for Clark Kent, he used his journalism in a similar if villainous way as Superman did, and he was powered by the very thing that could kill Superman while still possessing enough raw strength to stand on equal terms with the Man of Steel. If they had kept him around, fleshed him out more, might Metallo have enjoyed more long term respect?

 Regardless, Corben’s death paved the way for the third Metallo: His brother Roger Corben.

Roger likewise had a lot of interesting ideas that would eventually get folded into the modern Metallo. He was not a petty thief, but had a personal vendetta with Superman over the death of his brother. Superman accidentally caused the very accident that crippled Roger, adding to the man’s feud. Roger was also a leader within the Skull organization, rather than the small time criminal his brother was. This Metallo’s design would form the basis for the Geoff Johns/Gary Frank revamp during Secret Origin, and I suspect the Johns conception of Metallo as a member of a wider organization and whose transformation was caused by Superman has it’s roots here.

Sadly the take on a more fleshed out Metallo would not last. The Roger Corben version of Metallo would meet his end with the rest of the Pre-Crisis Superman Rogues Gallery in the seminal Alan Moore story Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?

Enter John Byrne:

During his Post-Crisis revamp of the Supermythos, Byrne returned to the John Corben take of a petty thief injured in an accident, who is rebuilt by a mad scientist Professor Vale. Byrne added his own twist though, with the scientist believing Superman to be the first scout in a full blown Kryptonian takeover of Earth, and specifically crafted Metallo to be an Anti-Superman weapon powered by Kryptonite. Metallo was to be humanity’s defense against the threat of Superman, an idea that would be revisited in Johns’ and Morrison’s revamps. Unfortunately petty thieves don’t make for great heroes, and Metallo killed Vale, ultimately coming into conflict with Superman not over any desire to protect humanity, but to simply eliminate a thorn in his side.

This incarnation of Metallo has basically served as the basis for his appearance in outside media, with a design that blatantly draws on the popular Terminator films.

This version of Metallo would also acquire a variety of powers thanks to making a deal with Neron that included the ability to transform parts of his body into weapons, transfer his consciousness into any technological or mechanical device, and manipulate his size:

Personally I’ve always loved that powerset upgrade, and think it’s crucial it sticks. It let him kick the shit out of Superman AND Batman in Loeb Superman/Batman, which basically solidified for me that this dude was a badass you didn’t want to mess with. Shame he’s never come close to matching that initial impression since.

The DCAU mostly used the Byrne revamp’s take, but they did change a few aspects which would end up carrying over to the mainline version. Most important was the replacing of Vale with Lex Luthor as the mind behind Metallo’s creation, something that would be incorporated in both Johns and Morrison’s later revamps.

One aspect that they introduced that didn’t carry over, that was still utilized to great effectiveness in the show, was that Corbyn’s transformation had robbed him of most physical sensation. He couldn’t taste, smell, touch, all the little things that made us human, and that drove him nuts. Ultimately he would learn that Lex was responsible for what happened to him, and he would swear a grudge against both Lex and Superman. Malcom McDowell was a fantastic choice to play Metallo, and is still the guy I “hear” when I read Metallo’s dialogue.

Now we come to the guy who crafted the next big revamp of Metallo: Geoff Johns.

This version of Metallo incorporated a ton of aspects from the multiple revamps that had preceded it, in much the same way Secret Origin did to Superman as a whole, while also adding a few new twists that I consider essential to the character now.

Like the DCAU, Luthor was the one who transformed Corben into Metallo. Like the Roger Corben take, this John Corben was accidentally crippled in a fight with Superman that gave him a personal vendetta against the Man of Steel.  Similar to Byrne, this Metallo was created to be an Anti-Superman weapon. Corben and Lois had had a brief romantic relationship, similar to the original debut of Corben. Johns even incorporated some of the Golden Age Metallo by having Corben suit up in a mech suit made of “Metallo”, the strongest metal on Earth to fight Superman before the accident. Johns also added a key bit of lore that I love, that Corben served as a soldier under General Sam Lane, and became the man’s surrogate son, the child he always wanted as opposed to Lois and Lucy. Here Corben is motivated to fight Kal-El by a mix of xenophobia, need to impress his father figure, desire to impress Lois, and a simple dose of blood lust.

The last major revamp came from Grant Morrison during the New 52:

Morrison kept a lot of the Johns revamp: Corben was a soldier serving under Sam Lane, he had a brief romantic relationship with Lois, he was distrustful of Superman’s heroics, and his transformation into Metallo was connected to Lex. However Corben was a much more sympathetic figure under Morrison than under Johns, genuinely believing Superman to be a threat, he volunteered to be merged with the Metal-0 superweapon (another callback to the original Metalo) to defend humanity, but Brainiac hijacked his cybernetics and turned him into a weapon. 

While Metallo would get another visual revamp for Rebirth, posted in the first image, Corben has more or less stayed within the confines that Byrne/Johns/Morrison established.

How I would use Metallo

I said earlier that Metallo is a guy I loved that I’ve never thought has lived up to his potential. He’s a villain with a lot of cool ideas, he’s a villain who has been continuously used by a lot of my favorite writers, but he’s never lived up to the Anti-Superman characterization that’s baked into him. Too often he’s just been a glorified henchman, or a petty thug, rarely if ever challenging Superman except in the most basic physical sense. I think that’s a great disservice to the ability of the character to be a much more important Rogue. That writers so often refuse to focus on him or any of the Rogues beyond Lex also hasn’t done him any favors. Instead of creating countless new OCs that are tossed aside by the next writer, someone needs to come on board with a passion for revamping the classics.

A lot of Superman’s Rogues suck not because they aren’t cool or don’t bring any interesting ideas, but because the ideas don’t do a good job in contrasting with Superman’s attributes. Metallo is a great example of this, look at all the interesting ideas creators have crafted around him, yet none of them have really been able to push those ideas as a way to explore and contrast Superman, so we get basic “Metallo tries to kill Superman, fails, Superman sends him back to jail” stories. That’s a failure of creativity in my eyes. I think that by choosing from some of the revamps listed above, a better, cooler, more interesting Metallo can be crafted.

The basics as established by Byrne/Johns/Morrison are great! The essential ideas that should be incorporated from all of the revamps listed above are:

1. Corben needs to have a military background as in Johns/Morrison. The petty thief origin is too dull, there’s nothing really to be mined there from a characterization standpoint. As a soldier Corben can serve as an interesting critique and contrast of Superman as an icon of America. The “American Way” has always been a dicey add-on to the original “Truth and Justice” motto. Often it’s been used to cast Superman as an obedient stooge of the government, as he was in The Dark Knight Returns, a characterization that has dogged him ever since. I think Corben can serve as an interesting character to explore Superman’s relationship with the American military-industrial complex. I would have Corben be what said complex wants Superman to be, at least in the beginning: A human WMD they can aim and fire, who will always follow orders no matter how reprehensible they are, who has a firm “America First” mindset. That way you can contrast the mainline Superman, and show that Superman is not that while also establishing what “The American Way” means in his eyes. Or you can have Superman drop that aspect of his motto in-universe, out of disgust for how his government perverts it. Either option is fine with me, I didn’t mind when Superman renounced his American citizenship.

2. If Lois often has to end up working with Clark’s exes, whether it’s Lana, Diana, or whoever, I think it’s only fair that Clark has to end up facing down an ex from Lois’ past. It’s important to show that Lois had a life before Clark showed up, and I think Corben is a good way to explore some of that. He’s the possessive ex-boyfriend who doesn’t respect Lois’ personal space and is convinced he can “win her back” via sheer determination. You can also compare and contrast the way Clark courted Lois, did Clark occasionally make the same pigheaded assumptions as Corben did? Corben debuted as a romantic rival for Superman, and I think that aspect still has merit. I also like his status as Sam’s surrogate son, it adds for some nice tension with Clark’s father-in-law that the guy he actually wanted to marry Lois was transformed into a weapon to kill the guy who ended up being his son-in-law. 

3. Corben is a true believer in the threat Superman poses, and is willing to take on the transformation into Metallo to protect humanity. It’s xenophobia yes, but with all the Evil Superman stories going around, it’s hard not to sympathize at least a little bit with Corben’s viewpoint, which tie into a deeper attribute of Corben’s I think needs to be brought up: Corben should be a sympathetic villain. I wouldn’t make him a bloodthirsty psycho, Superman has plenty of those. Corben should have villainous valor, willing to tackle on whatever threats to humanity are out there, whether Superman or others. I would make Corben instead someone who has the genuine desire to protect humanity, but lacks Superman’s concern for collateral damage. In that way you could contrast the two’s brand of “heroics”, Superman’s loyalty to humanity as a whole over one nation, and concern with protecting lives first and foremost, Corben’s desire to protect humanity’s future for the “greater good” even if it costs a few lives in the here and now and loyalty to America above all else. 

4. I like the idea of Superman being inadvertently responsible for the accident that cripples Corben and mandates his transformation. It adds to his sympathy, helps justify why Superman might continue to believe Corben could find redemption (he wants Corben to change and also wants to find a way to earn Corben’s forgiveness one day), and provides a good personal reason for why Corben would hate Superman, blaming Supes for his current state. I would also have him blame Sam and Lex as well, but he would subdue those resentments for as long as he remained working for the military. Only after he finally snaps would he target those two.

5. Finally I would keep the ability to shapeshift his body into weapons, and to manipulate technology. I would have Corben emulating Adam Jensen from Deus Ex, able to “hack” tech around him for his own purpose, armed with a variety of weapons that make him a huge threat not just to Superman but to everyone. Finally I would get rid of the Kryptonite heart. I’m tired of every battle with Metallo going the same way: He shows up, blasts Superman with kryptonite radiation, Superman lies on the ground gasping in pain, Metallo stands around gloating like a moron instead of finishing Supes off, Supes beats him by tricking him or by someone else intervening. I want to see Metallo as an Anti-Superman weapon realized beyond jus the Kryptonite. How about incorporating the DCAU version’s lack of feeling, so that Metallo doesn’t feel pain from Superman’s blows or his powers? How about giving him an internal temperature controller, so he can’t be melted by heat vision or frozen by arctic breath? How about an invisibility cloak that hides him from Superman’s vision, sound mufflers that let him sneak up on Supes even with his hearing, basically go WILD with his Anti-Superman status, let us see a real fight between someone who can counter each of Superman’s powers! You have Kryptonite Man and Lex for the villains who mainly make use of Kryptonite against Superman, I think Metallo should go in a different direction. Morrison making it so that “Metal-0″ was already powerful enough to hurt Superman is all the justification you need as to why he still poses a threat in my opinion.

I’ll go over the basic arc I’d want to see him undergo and the kinds of stories I think he’s positioned to tell in another post.

[cienie-isengardu]

I'm not sure where my mind ultimately is gonna take me about this parallel between Triple Zero (Etain) and Order 66 (Besany) but for now I have two different conclusions.

One, trust Vau to always be there to throw some hard truth into Skirata’s face and be the cold logic to his passion and conflicting emotions. And two, as much as it is nice to see Kal’s moral and/or protective side focused at people who aren’t his sons, I can understand Walon’s passive-aggressive reaction because let’s face it, it is always him doing the dirty work, not Kal. Etain helped to soften the captured man, but it was Vau who finished the job and who killed the interrogated people in the end (and hey, let’s not forget Vinna Jiss, another “war casualty” who was captured by Sev, Fi and Jusik for interrogation and when it was over, thrown out of the balcony. And isn’t it funny how the interrogation of the female character was never shown or mentioned in any great details, no Etain or Kal involved in that one but we know who did the dirty job and be the one Mando whose killing of a woman is confirmed?) And yes, Kal brought him to this mission as interrogation specialist but then he brought Etain onto it (as a test??) but withdrew her when the things were going to get messy. Sure, fine. But saving Jilka? Besanny was eaten by guilt and Kal decided to risk their operation to spare her this pain because it would affect Ordo  (and I love this cruelly honest accusation about Skirata's sons, the more that Fi manifested this ailment) but once again, it was Vau doing the killing of (innocent) officers so Ordo could retrieve Besany’s captured friend. Walon was against getting the clan involved with Jilka, since their had already two different people to extract but he did assist during that operation and dunno, dunno where I’m coming with it, beside the feeling that without Vau’s “brutality”, Skirata as character wouldn’t come out as half good as he is seen? Do I make sense? I mean, Kal has a lot inner thoughts how he is murderer and criminal and so on, but the books rarely put him in position when he kills innocent/ helpless people? He physically threatened Hutt at the beginning of Triple Zero, but that was a Hutt so of course readers assume the worst of this creature and hey, there was Laseema who is implied to have a shitty life, including the time while working there, so Kal’s action are easily forgive and seen as right at the end of day while the rest killing is against CIS terrorists or armed enemy. He is involved with their little clan’s shady matters to some degree (as giving the orders or establishing goals to be achieved) but it is usually Vau (with help of Enacca and later Ordo?) to do the dirty job, which only adds to the image of his emotional detachment in contrast to Skirata’s passionate POV?

I need to sit and think more of that in context of how the storyline is build around Skirata’s “crimes” and these of Vau, but I wonder if Kal was directly taking part in interrogations (especially Jilka), would the majority of fan still see him primary as a good papa Kal? I guess there is something fascinating about how Skirata’s flaws would look worse if there were no Vau (the pragmatic, more brutal, less sentimental) to compare for fans and in-universe characters as well.

[rattlemycage]

I Should Have Known Again (But Here It Goes Again)

NOTE: I posted this from a browser. It shows as under a cut there. I don’t know how to put it under a cut for mobile. If someone tells me how to do it, I’m more than happy to put a Read More in...I just need to know how to do it because the methods on Google are proving useless.

Word count: 22k....again. 

Rating: NC-17. There’s a lot going on here. 

Warnings: uhhhh Dom/Sub undertones, Daddy Henry, spitting, spanking, oral (F and M receiving), choking, unprotected sex, humiliation kink, I’m sure I’m missing something. IDK it’s nasty that’s all you need to know. 

Title comes from OK Go. 

~~~

You’d fucked up again. You were going batshit having to be cooped up in the house. You understood and supported the reasoning behind quarantine, hell, you even appreciated it at first since it gave you some much needed time with Henry. But the excitement of lock down had worn off a month ago and now you were starting to lose it. Taking Kal for a walk and breathing in fresh air only satiated you momentarily, but the buzzing in your bones, the itch to move and get up and do something would creep back in in short order.

Your frustration with quarantine had been mounting for weeks, but you hadn’t taken it out on Henry. Until last night. You’d been a brat, straight up RUDE to him at certain points during the evening, yet he’d kept his cool. You’d complained and pouted about his choice for dinner (he knew you hated fish yet still made it, leaving you to fend for yourself), you’d stomped around when he sat down at his fancy new gaming computer to play with his brothers for a bit, and you’d even pulled the curtains off the rod when he asked you to pick up your clothes that were littering your bedroom floor (only because you couldn’t do your laundry when HE was commandeering the washer and dryer for himself!). You were being an absolute fucking terror. You’d gone to bed huffy, only humming when he laid down next to you and said he loved you before turning out the lights.

It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up around 4AM to get a glass of water or use the restroom, nor was it unusual for Henry to already be up and at em by that time. You were a stark contrast to each other, with people always commenting on your contrasting features, preferences, and personalities.

You’d gotten up for water, deciding the chug the glass in the kitchen and leaving it on the counter for later before returning to your room. Seeing his side of the bed empty was normal, and Kal’s absence as well hinted to him being in his makeshift gym space in the garage.  You walked back to your room, already salivating at the thought of burying yourself back into the pillow and comforter nest. You’d just crossed the threshold to your room when he decided to strike.

Your arms were jerked behind your back, a twinge going off in one of your shoulders at the abrupt and uncomfortable movement.  Your momentum moved you backwards, your body hitting the absolute brick wall that was your boyfriend. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your mouth.

“Henry-“

He wound his arm around your waist, the left anchoring on your right hip to hold you to him, the right coming up to your face to cover your nose and mouth.

You couldn’t tell which was louder in your ears, your panting or your racing heart.

He placed his lips lightly against the shell of your ear, “Do you want to tell me why you were being such a fucking brat last night?”

Your eyes flashed; you figured he would just let it go. He’d let all of your minor outbursts go, but last night was clearly his tipping point, even if he’d maintained the picture of cool, calm, and collected in front of you. The fact that he was saying anything at all said enough. You shook your head, afraid to even speak at this point. He pushed you forward, ordering you get on the edge of the bed and lay back. You did as he said.

“Grab your ankles and spread your legs.” You reached down and wound your arms around your legs to grab your ankles; it was the most comfortable way for you to lay while opening you up as much as possible.

“Safe word?”

“P—“, you tried to speak, but your voice cracked. You closed your eyes, grounding yourself, and swallowed deeply before looking up at him and saying, “Peaches.”  

“And if you cannot speak?”

You shook your head side to side while humming an “uh, uh, uh” sound.

You laid there panting and gripping your ankles, eyes tracking his movements as he slowly made his way over to his dresser. He’d clearly skipped his workout this morning, probably in favor of the cardio he was about to put in with you. He’d taken the time to get dressed instead, wearing black, fitted slacks with a dress shirt and he’d even donned a tie. He faced away from you as he undid his cuff links.

And you thought you were over dramatic.

He turned around while rolling his sleeves up and moved his way over to the edge of the bed that you were currently resting on. You were thankful for your preferred pajamas of skimpy undies and a loose tank top. He looked down at you while you looked everywhere but directly in his eyes. He reached down and moves your shirt up to expose your tits, then hooks two fingers into the fabric of your thong, yanking the material to the side.

“You know why you’re here. You know what you did. And you know what you’re gonna do to make it up to me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, he slapped your pussy. You jerked and whined, torn between the pain and pleasure it brought. He looked down with a wolfish grin and grabbed the hair at the crown of your head, yanking you up slightly so you could see yourself. “Look at me.”  

The moment your eyes connected, he slapped you again. And again. And again. He was purposely striking his middle finger against your slit, bumping your clit, making you throb. He struck you one more time, the hardest hit yet, and you squealed at the pain. You let go of your ankles without even thinking—

“What did I tell you?!”

You whimper and reach for your ankles as quickly as possible.

“You won’t let go again, will you?”

You breathe out a quick “No, daddy” before he smiles and tightens his grip on your hair.

“No, you won’t,” he says mockingly, shaking your head back and forth so you have no choice but to reinforce his comment.

He undoes his belt, and you think for a minute that maybe he’ll take pity on you, offer a sliver of mercy, and he’ll just bind you together so you don’t even have to worry about keeping your limbs connected. He throws his belt on the ground instead.

He ceases movement, looks at you, just drinking in your appearance. You don’t want to piss him off any more than he already is, and you’re barely even breathing so that you don’t make a peep and interrupt his moment. He tilts his head to the side and quirks up one side of his mouth; he can see the fear and adrenaline and excitement in your own eyes. He knows his baby girl just needs the brat fucked out of her, needs the excess energy worked out every now and again.

He kneels down in front of you, and you’re confused for a moment as he levels his face with your pussy. Isn’t this supposed to be a punishment?

He grips your hips, pulling you even closer to his mouth. “Don’t cum,” and then he spears you with his tongue. Your eyes roll back and you let out a loud groan. He licks into you, swirling his tongue in your hole before dragging it up to your clit. He starts flicking back and forth while he grips your thigh with his left hand. He spanks the side of your thigh with the other so hard it leaves a mark. You can’t focus on the dual sensations, mind going back and forth between at the sting of the slap and the burning of a mounting climax.

Henry spanks you again, and then leans back and you see him purse his lips. He spits on your slit, using his index and middle fingers to rub it in before hooking his fingers in your hole. He doesn’t bother to give you any time to adjust, just starts swirling them like he did with his tongue, but reaching even deeper. You feel him brush his fingers over your cervix, circling over your g-spot on the way out before thrusting them back in again. You jerk at the feeling and moan wantonly. He’s pulling out the big guns.

“Ohhh, are you close? You look like it. Be a shame if you broke the rules right now during a punishment.”  

He’s trying to kill you.

He moves the hand gripping your hip up to your tits, grabbing them one at a time, rolling each nipple between his fingers and then pulling. You’re so fucking close. He’s alternating between rubbing and tapping inside of you, making you slicker with every moment. You can’t do this much longer even though you’re trying your best.

“Daddy. I-I can’t. I’m trying. Feels too good. I’m—“

He yanks his fingers out of you, let’s go of your tits, and it just went from 100 to 0 way too fast. You let out an involuntary whine.

“You don’t get to cum right now. This is a punishment.”  

With that, he stands up, reaches towards you and grabs the hair on the crown of your head. He jerks you up this time, “Let go of your legs,” and you follow the way his hand is guiding you by the hair. You go to stand up, but he moves his arm down.

Oh.

You get on your knees, letting your fingertips graze the floor, not sure if he’s really doing this or not. He takes a step in front of you. He undoes his button and fly, reaches in to get his cock out. Smart of him to skip the underwear. He’s still holding you by your hair, and guides you to his cock that he’s steadying with his other hand.

“Open.”  

You open your mouth immediately, sticking your tongue out as he had trained you to do. He slaps the tip against your tongue a few times, then leans down suddenly. His face is inches from yours. He spits in your mouth. You know better than to close.

He sticks his cock fully in your mouth then, not wasting any time. You feel him pull his foreskin back and you circle your tongue around the head, earning you a grunt that goes straight to your pussy. He slowly but surely picks up the pace, yet remaining gentle in his thrusts as he moves in and out of your mouth. He’s got a rhythm going and you’re getting lost in the feeling of him heavy on your tongue when suddenly, he doesn’t push back in and just lets his tip rest on your tongue.

You’ve worked on this. He slowly forces himself into your throat as much as he can. He’s big. While he doesn’t truly know that you’ll ever get to the point where you can graze his balls with your tongue when you’ve got his cock down your throat, he still likes to see you try. He likes to hear the sounds you make as you realize you need to breathe, likes to feel the flutter of your throat around him when you start to panic as you get more desperate for oxygen. This time is no different, and he just stands there and waits, enjoying the heat of your mouth while waiting for the panic to set in. He takes his time, slowly undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, removing it from his body. He leans forward to put it on the bed, mostly so he chokes you with his cock just a little bit more. He sees your fingers starting to tap against your thigh—won’t be long now. Like a checklist, your nostrils flare. Then, your eyes start to well up. He reaches down with the hand not still gripping your hair and grabs his dick again. He moves it in small circles, swirling it in your throat. His abs jump and he moans loudly. He feels the flutter of your throat...check. Your throat jumps and he yanks his dick out; you gasp for air as he releases growling pants from his own lungs. Henry turns slightly, making sure to keep a grip on you by the hair. He leans to the side that you are on and takes a step forward.

Okay.

You put your palms flush to the floor and start moving. Henry leads you across the room by your hair, making you follow him on your hands and knees.

He sits on the couch with you still on your knees in front of him. He lets go of your hair and softly cups your cheeks.

“Touch yourself.”  

You immediately reached down-

“Ah, ah.”

You look up to see his eyebrows raised.

“Go slowly.”

Your move your hand back up a few inches to your tits. You grab one with your hand, enjoying the feeling of it. You slowly caress across your chest, and then grab your left nipple between your fingers. You roll it and tug a little before giving the right the same treatment. You reach up to your mouth to wet your fingers before returning them to your nipples to swirl saliva around each of them. The cool air reacts with the warmth of your spit, making your nipples even harder and the throbbing in your pussy more intense.

You look back up at Henry and let out a breathy “Please, Daddy,” before opening your mouth and sitting back on your heels quietly. He reaches a hand out, brushes his thumb over your lip, and guides you forward and back to his cock.

You grip it in both hands, stimulating what you can’t fit in your mouth. You’re moving up and down at a steady pace, keeping suction while swirling your tongue every time you come back up to the head and rotating your hands in opposite directions on the up stroke. He groans deep from his chest. You come up with a pop and put one hand on his thigh to anchor yourself while you keep twisting the other hand on his cock, moving lower to sweep your tongue on his balls before taking each of them into your mouth. His hands returns to your hair, though much more gentle this time, while his head hits the back of the couch and he releases a moan. He affectionately pulls your hair back and out of your face for you before transferring it all to one hand and his other hand reaches down to link with the one you had resting on his thigh.

Even when punishing you, he shows bits of affection. He is your anchor amidst the chaos of the sea that is your mind.

You move your mouth back up and lick the length of his dick before lavishing more attention upon the tip. His hips start to roll minutely, and he knows this will be over sooner than he wants it to be if he lets you continue.

“Come here,” Henry grunts out.

You slowly pull off his dick and rise to your feet, unsure of where exactly he wants you. He lifts his hips and shucks his pants down to his ankles.

He reaches forward and grabs you behind your knees, pulling forward until you fit yourself on top of him, caging him between your widely spread thighs to accommodate the muscle mass between them.

He promptly moves you over his dick and starting guiding you down, knowing you’ve been soaked since the second he laid his hands on you beyond the doorway. He makes you take it all in one go, thighs meeting his quickly and making you gasp out “Daddy,” before placing your hands on his pecs to steady yourself from the sudden fullness. Your eyes roll to the back of your head a little bit.

You’re rubbing his chest hair with one hand, an odd habit you’ve picked up over the years spent with him that calms you down.

Henry leans back, resting his arms on the back of the couch, and commands, “Ride.” You roll your hips and lift up only to let gravity pull you back down. Even with your effort to pull up, you’re only making it halfway up his cock. He’s so big. You’re so full. You keep moving, panting both with the effort and the slow burn that’s built back up in your pussy. He shifts his hips to slouch down on the couch, giving you more room to move. You’re able to go a bit faster, rolling your hips forward and back. You’re so turned on, so soaked, it’s almost hard to get any friction.

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart. Can hear it. Can feel you dripping down onto my balls already. Such a good slut for Daddy, hm?”

He’s really trying to kill you.

You can only move your hips so fast, and you need more. He’s got his hands on your hips now, trying to guide you faster and faster on top of it. You’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm, but can’t quite grasp it. You need something only Daddy can give you.

He stands up suddenly, still holding you by the hips, and now you’re impaled on him. His strength never ceases to surprise you. You’re shaking from him constantly rubbing against your cervix as he walks forward towards your large vanity. You’ve buried your face into his neck, whispering, “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry. Need you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sure you are.”

He lifts you up slightly and sets you down in front of the vanity; you’re missing his cock already. He reaches up and grips you by the throat with both hands, putting just enough pressure on your neck to make you lightheaded. He kisses you gently at first, a ghost of a touch against your lips, deepening the kiss after awhile. He pulls away slowly, leaving a string of spit connecting your tongues. You’re mesmerized, put under a spell by the shiny thread linking you two together, so you’re taken aback when Henry spins you around and pushes your back forward. You take the hint and push your tits against the wood of the vanity, bracing your hands against the edge. You spread your thighs slightly and shake your ass at him, inviting him back into your depths.

He pulls your head up by your hair yet again, and when you link your eyes with him in the mirror, he spears into you.

“Yes, Daddy, ah!”

He’s able to thrust so much faster in this position and he isn’t holding back. He’s jack hammering into you, gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises. “Fucking keep looking at me,” he hisses at you, yanking your head back up. You keep curling in on yourself from the pressure and pleasure, trying not to come before he says you can. He’s staring at you in the mirror, lip curling up on one side as he watches your face crumble in what would look like pain to an innocent bystander, but what he really knows is intense pleasure. You love getting fucked from behind, but he likes to see your face as he unravels you, and it seems as though you’ve stumbled upon a compromise.

“Daddy, gonna cum, please let me cum, please, please!”

You’re not above begging. You’re throbbing and you’re seconds away from exploding. He growls, crowding you into the vanity so you’re more upright than before. Your hips are slamming into the wood, and the pain against the bone is an amazing contrast to the pulsing pleasure of your pussy. You rest your head back against his shoulder. He reaches his right hand up to your throat and turns your head to whisper in your ear, “Look at me, you fucking slut,” while his other hand snakes down between your legs to your clit. He’s rubbing you and fucking you and choking you and kissing the side of your head and it’s all too much.

“I can feel you clenching. Not yet, baby girl.”

You’re trembling now; you’re trying desperately to hold back your orgasm until he tells you you can have it. Tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you’re whimpering, “Daddy,” over and over like a broken record.

He pulls away.

You cry out, so desperate for some sort of release. He grabs you by the crooks of your elbows and yanks your arms behind your back. “You gonna be good for me, now? Not gonna be a fucking brat to me anymore?”

“No, Daddy, gonna be a good girl. Gonna be so good,” you somehow manage to pant out.

Henry walks you forward to the bed, returning you to the edge in your original position on your back. He grips his dick and moves his foreskin slowly back and forth just over the tip, running the head over your clit each time it’s exposed.

“Please. Just wanna come.”

“Aww, you wanna come, sweetheart? Beg for it.” And with that, he pushes back inside you, folding you in half as he surrounds himself in your warm. By the time his tip touches your cervix, your knees are almost touching your ears. You’re absolutely surrounded by him while he pounds into you. You’re so fucking close. You can hear yourself slick around him; can feel your wetness where it dripped down your ass and onto your thighs. You reach your hands up and grasp his forearms, clinging for dear life.

Henry leans onto one of his hands, grabbing yours in his and guiding it down your tummy. He sets it on your pelvis.  

“Come on, sweetheart.” You don’t even really need to touch your clit to get off at this point, but what Daddy wants, Daddy gets.

The minute you reach down and touch your clit, it’s over. It’s like you’ve been struck by lightning. You’re so sensitive. You cry out loudly at the contact and your fingers start to circle your clit in earnest. Henry shifts up slightly, folding you in even more somehow and lowering his torso closer to yours. He moves his knees up onto the bed and cages your head between forearms. He leans down nose to nose with you, smiles brightly, and says, “cum.”

You black out. You’re pretty sure the shrieking is you, but you can’t be sure at this point. You can’t even be sure you’re still alive at this point. You’re dripping and soaking his cock and pulsing around him and convulsing on the bed with your head thrown back. It’s one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had.

Your climax triggers Henry’s and he roars through it. Normally, he has no problem fucking you through a handful of orgasms before he even thinks about his own, but your pleasure is so intense and you look so beautiful, all undone underneath him that he can’t help it. His hips stutter, his head tucking into the nook of your neck to pant through it while he absolutely fills you up.

When he’s finished, he pulls up slightly to look at your face, noticing you’re still shaking and looking at him with wild eyes. He huffs out a laugh, leaning down to kiss you deeply before pulling out of you. He backs up to watch his cum drip out of you slightly and growls again at the sight of it.

He walks to the en-suite and gets a warm washcloth and wipes between your thighs while you still lay there is a daze. Once he’s done, he tosses the rag in a laundry basket and climbs onto the bed, dragging you up with him so you’re laying on his chest. You’re shivering now, and he leans down to kiss your head and put your hand on his chest hair. He holds your hand, rubbing it back and forth for you while helping you relax.

“Daddy?,” you manage to whisper out after awhile.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I am sorry, you know. I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was just so bored.”

He looks down at you fondly, shaking his head. “I know. Sometimes you just need to be put in your place. All brats do.”

[keanureevesisbae]

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 8

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: Smut

Wordcount: 4k

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter 

This might be the first time Henry and Olivia are actually alone alone. It’s Thursday evening during the autumn break and Vanessa is at a sleepover from a girl from her class. Vanessa was really looking forward to it and to be honest: Henry was too.

He loved the times that Vanessa was with them, but to spend some time with Olivia and Olivia only, is something that he didn’t know he also really wanted.

The entire night was filled with cooking, Henry hugging her, her giving him massages, tons of kisses and now he watches Olivia as she does some tricks with Kal. Is there anything she can’t do?

‘And now go home,’ she tells Kal and he trots over to the blanket that he usually lays on, when they are at Olivia’s place. She plops on the couch with Henry and he can’t believe that this woman is his girlfriend. How long did he wished for someone like her? He wraps an arm around her, while his other hand toys with the bottom of his own shirt that Olivia is wearing. ‘What are you trying to do, mister Cavill?’ she chuckles.

‘Nothing,’ he whispers with a sly smile on his face. ‘It’s still unbelievable that you are part of my life now.’

‘I know.’ Olivia presses her lips on his and he opens his mouth as a response, allowing their tongues to meet. He pulls her leg over his, so she’s sitting on his lap. Her slender hands are placed on both sides of his face. ‘Is this okay?’ she asks, when she pulls away as he slightly stiffens up.

‘More than okay, love. It’s just that… I can’t do this when Kal is watching us.’

She looks to the side and sees Kal placed his head on the couch, indeed watching them, almost with a smile on his face. She snorts. ‘We can go upstairs if you want to.’

‘I would love to,’ he whispers.

Olivia wants to step off his lap, but he secures her safely against his body and stands up. She squeals and pleads for him to put her down, but instead he holds her a little tighter. While he climbs up the stairs, he presses kisses in her exposed neck and when she starts to laugh, he says: ‘Good to know I found a delicate spot there.’

He gently places her on the bed and smiles at the woman underneath him, as he is caging her in between his arms. ‘You are so beautiful, love,’ he whispers against her lips, before kissing her like they did downstairs. ‘God, you are my girlfriend. How is that possible?’

She wraps her legs around his hips. ‘Well, you are my boyfriend and I still try to process how that is possible, since you are utter perfection.’

‘You are too, love.’

She places her hands on his chest and he feels her nails digging into the hard muscles. ‘I really want to take this step,’ she admits, ‘but I’m a bit out of practice. It has been a few years.’

He nods, admiring her honesty. ‘Just tell me when you want to stop and I’ll stop right away.’

Olivia unbuttons his shirt and he can’t believe he is actually nervous for her to see him shirtless. To get through his days, he spends a lot of time in the gym and he has been buffed up more than a few weeks ago, but somehow he is afraid of what she’ll think. What if she thinks it’s too much? What if she doesn’t like it?

She pushes the fabric over his shoulders and he helps her a bit by throwing off the piece of fabric. ‘You’re so handsome, Henry.’ She turns them both around, so she’s sitting on top of him. her hands pushing his upper body deeper into the mattress. Her hair falls in front of her beautiful face and he reaches out to push some strands behind her ear, cupping her face afterwards.

She leans over, kissing his jaw, before she dips her head in the crook of his neck. She leaves behind wet kisses and he suppresses a groan. Henry can already feel his jeans grow tighter around his groin and he nearly curses himself, for being such a teenager, unable to hold it in.

But that’s what Olivia is doing to him.

She steps off of him, off the bed, as she leaves a trail of sloppy kisses from his neck, to his collarbone, over his chest, further down and down. She unbuckles his belt and looks up.

For someone who claims to be out of practice, she seems to know exactly what she’s doing to make him feel so good and nearly lose his mind, while she barely started. He raises his hips, so she can pull not only his jeans, but also his underwear down his legs.

This has never happened to him before, Henry thinks to himself, him being totally naked, while the woman he is about to have sex with, is still fully dressed.

Henry is not complaining though.

She places her hands on his thick thighs, before scraping with her nails over his skin, leaving marks burning with sensation.

‘Fuck Olivia,’ he hisses with a clenched jaw. Does she have any idea what she’s doing to him?

‘Can I?’ she asks.

He props himself on his elbow, watching the woman who is kneeling between his legs, as they dangle off the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor. ‘Of course, darling.’

She wraps her delicate fingers around his member, slowly dragging her tongue across the base, all the way to his tip, where she licks the small droplets of pre cum up. All while she looks at him with a certain look on her face. He reaches down and entangles his fingers through her thick hair. She slowly but surely takes him in, more and more. Her warm mouth engulfing him and he feels her taking him in deeper, until he hits the back of her throat.

Shit, this woman is skilled.

Henry involuntarily bucks up his hips and when he hears Olivia gag around him, he instantly feels bad. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he quickly says. ‘I…’

She looks up and bites her lips as she laughs. ‘It’s okay, Henry. It’s good to know that I still got it.’

As much as he wants her to continue this, he knows he’ll cum in a matter of seconds he lets her do her thing.

He gently tugs her hair, forcing her to look up at him and sits up straight, as he brings he face closer to hers. He kisses her and whispers: ‘Get undressed, love.’

Olivia simply nods and gets up. She pulls off her shirt and shimmies out of her pants. He admires her body, only to notice that she has more tattoos. She has one on her ribcage, also the outlines of a flower and on her leg another one. a butterfly.

‘How many tattoos have you been hiding for me, love?’ he asks.

‘Only those.’

He pulls her closer and she sits on his lap. He presses kisses in her neck, before he trails down to her collarbones to the valley of her breasts. His fingers find the clasp of her bra and once he undoes her from it, he licks his lips. However she stops him before he can cup one of her breasts in his hands. ‘What’s wrong?’

She clears her throat and from the looks of it, she is all of the sudden a lot more insecure than moments earlier and it kills him that she is feeling like that. ‘You’re the first one who sees me naked in this setting after the pregnancy,’ she says, a deep blush on her face.

He wants to feel honored, but from the look on her face, he almost feels bad if he beams with pride that he is the first to see her naked after the pregnancy.

‘I don’t know, Henry. ‘What if…’ She sighs deeply, not finishing the sentence.

‘Listen sweetheart,’ he says, ‘you are beautiful and you have nothing to worry about. If you don’t want to continue this, then I understand, but remember: to me, no one is prettier, more beautiful and more breathtaking than you. I’m such a lucky man, but I only want to continue if you want to.’

She blushes, giving him a kiss on his forehead. ‘You’re quite something, Henry.’

He pushes her down the mattress and leans to to kiss her lips. If he could, he’d be kissing her entire body tonight, showing her how much he loves her.

Loves her?

Is that possible?

He means, they do love each other right? Everything they do, it happens in the fifth gear. They don’t take it slow, but that’s not what they both wanted. They wanted to know what they were up to and loving each other is only the next step.

He lets his tongue flick around her hardened nipple. He leaves a trail of kisses, before he reaches her stomach. He notices a few stretch marks on her stomach and his tongue traces over the lines. Henry looks up to check her reaction and he sees the slightest discomfort written on her face. He pushes himself up again, so he is laying down on his side next to her. His hand firmly placed in the dip of her waist, as he pulls her closer to him. ‘Tell me what’s on your mind.’

‘It’s just that I hate those.’

‘These?’ he asks confused, his fingers going from her waist to the marks on her skin.

She nods.

‘Why?’

Now Olivia shrugs. ‘They are so dark,’ she mumbles. ‘It’s such an obvious contrast.’

Henry gives her a kiss. ‘I love them,’ he says. ‘They show me how you grew an entire human in there. They’re like battle scars.’

She chuckles at the cliche. ‘Idiot.’

‘You still want to continue?’

‘Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m totally killing the mood.’

He shakes his head. ‘You’re not. We should talk about this and I’m happy that you feel safe enough to tell me.’ He lifts her up, so he can place her better on the bed; her head on the pillow and he pulls off her underwear. He spreads her legs, noticing the slick wetness between her folds. Henry sucks on her inner thighs, earning exactly the reaction he was hoping for: a strangled moan from Olivia. He lets his tongue slide between her legs and she even tastes better than he thought. He wants to tease her, but he grows impatient himself, causing him to dive in. His nose bumps against the the sensitive bundle of nerves. Olivia bucks up her hips  as a response and lets her fingers run through his locks, pulling him even closer. He lets go of her aching cunt, to wet his own fingers, sliding one slowly into her. ‘Henry, one more,’ she begs in a soft voice and he happily gives her what she wants and what she deserves. His tongue flick over her clit, while he thrusts his fingers in and out of her. He moans against her sensitive numb.

Olivia wraps her legs around his head, her thighs nearly stopping all the blood flow, but he doesn’t mind. He actually doesn’t even care.

She’s growing more and more wet every second that passes by and he feels her walls tightening around his fingers. ‘Henry, don’t stop,’ she gasps.

She tumbles over the edge, her legs shaking as she fists his hair. Strangled gasps leave her lips, as she rides out her high. Henry pulls his fingers out of her, sucking them clean. Olivia’s body is covered in a thin layer of sweat. She lets out a soft laugh and says: ‘You know what you’re doing, mister Cavill.’

He buffs out his chest, before he chuckles. ‘You still want to continue this?’

She simply nods, before she pulls him on top of her, his chest against hers. His lips fall perfectly on hers. ‘Henry,’ she whispers, ‘I don’t want to say stuff too soon, but there is something on my mind.’

He frowns, while he feels all sorts of panic through his body. She is not as into him as he is into her. He is going too fast. He smells like rotten eggs.

‘I love you.’

Henry clears his throat. Did he hear that correctly? The most beautiful and strongest woman in the world loves him? All his worries before, they were all for nothing, because she feels the exact same way. He smiles and says: ‘Good thing I love you too.’

Why does she seems so surprised? ‘Really?’

He nods. ‘I love you so much, darling.’ Henry notices a few tears in her eyes and he presses a kiss on her forehead. She has been emotional a lot this week and he can’t fathom under how much stress she was these past years. She pushed it all aside, wanting the best thing for her daughter and it’s admirable. But now there is someone in her life who can take away certain things, taking over stuff, so she’s under less stress. And it’s all catching up with her now.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, please don’t feel sorry,’ he tells her. ‘And you should let it all out. It’s not good for you to bottle it up.’

She chuckles. ‘Are you using my own words against me now, Cavill?’

‘I guess I am. It’s just that you are so wise, that it’s only a smart thing to repeat everything you say.’

She gives him a kiss, before her hand trails down, wrapping her fingers around his throbbing cock and whispers: ‘You keep asking me if I still want to continue, but what about you?’

‘More than anything.’

She lets her thumb run over his tip and he hisses as a response. He lines himself up nearher entrance and slowly pushes his length into her. He carefully watches her facial expressions, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. ‘Fuck, Henry,’ she chokes out.

‘You’re okay?’

‘I’m fine, it’s just that you’re so big.’ She lets out a chuckle and when he bottoms out, she lets her head fall back against the pillow.

He smiles at the sight of her, never has he seen her this vulnerable. He pulls out a bit, before he slides back into her. Within a few seconds, their bodies have synchronized with each other, her tight walls wrapped around his member. ‘Faster,’ she whispers.

His following thrust is not only faster, but also a lot harder, since he can barely contain himself anymore. He pushes her hands deep into the mattress and crashes his lips on hers. She moans against his lips. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against each other, how obscenely wet Olivia is and a mix of their moans.

Henry notices a tear dripping on her cheek and he kisses it away. ‘I love you so much, baby,’ he whispers.

‘I love you too, Henry. So so much.’

He lets go of one of her wrists, so he can flick her clit with his fingers. He watches her closely, her eyes rolling back as her body jolts because of the sudden touch. She is falling apart slowly underneath him.

‘I’m close again, Henry,’ she sobs, biting her lip and she wraps her free hand around his bicep. ‘Please don’t stop.’

‘I won’t,’ he tells her. ‘And I’m close too.’

He needs to hold off the moment, needs to wait before he releases himself.

‘You want me to pull out?’ he asks.

Olivia shakes her head. ‘No, no, I’m on birth control, don’t you worry.’ She lets out a loud moan and he feels her tightening around him, causing him to clench his jaw. Olivia starts to shake underneath him and as she rides out her high, he smiles at her, still in awe of the kind of woman she is.

She whimpers, saying something along the lines of how sensitive it is, but he kisses her cheek, whispering: ‘I’m really close, sweetheart. Can you continue for me? If not, just say so.’

‘I can,’ she softly cries out.

Seeing her like this, pushes him over the edge a lot faster than he thought. His thrusts turn sloppy and he groans against her soft and wet cheek as he cums. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and he lets out a deep sigh. He stays inside her for a moment, as he feels himself slowly soften inside her. Before he pulls out, he gives her a kiss and sits up straight, admiring his work for a few moments.

For a second he wonders what he would do if she actually got pregnant now. It would be way too early in their relationship, but would he mind?

Not at all. Deep down he already knows that this is the woman he wants to be the mother of his kids.

‘Are you okay, love?’ he asks, as he pats her thighs.

‘I am,’ she says. ‘But I think we need to change the sheets and I could use a shower.’

‘Say no more.’ He pulls her up and throws her over his shoulder, softly smacking her but in the process. He hears her squeal, while she slaps his back. He turns on the shower and when the water is finally a nice temperature, he steps in, holding the tiny woman in his arms. ‘I love you,’ he whispers. ‘You know I’m going to say this every day to you now?’

She nods. ‘I know and I don’t mind. You don’t think it’s too soon?’

He shakes his head. ‘When you know, you just know.’

≫≫≪≪

After their shower and a quick change of the sheets, he feels her limb body against his. It’s around one a.m. now and Olivia was fast asleep, but Henry can’t seem to find his rest. He is thinking about her and a future together.

Of course he wants to get to know her a lot better, but what he told her: when you know, you just know. And that’s the case between them and as Olivia told him time and time again, she doesn’t have time for bullshit. She wants something serious and so does he.

He keeps thinking about the pregnancy pictures he saw of her the other day and he meant it: what if they had met sooner? He could’ve been there for her and Vanessa. But he wasn’t and instead of thinking in only ‘what if’-scenario’s, he’d rather enjoy every moment he gets to cherish with Olivia and Vanessa.

The room lights up, before Olivia’s phone start to ring. She is faster awake then he would’ve guessed and picks up the phone. ‘Olivia,’ she says as she answers, before cuddling Henry again. ‘Oh really? … Yes, of course, I’ll be there in a minute … I’m so sorry … No, please, it’s okay … I’ll be there shortly. Okay, bye.’

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks.

‘Vanessa woke up and has been crying non stop, because she wants to go home.’

Henry flicks on the light on the nightstand, before he gets up out of bed. ‘Poor thing.’

‘Can I borrow your car?’ she asks.

He simply scoffs. ‘I’m going with you, love,’ he tells her. ‘I’m not going to let you go by yourself.’

She chuckles, throwing on a sweater and some matching sweatpants, before she slips on  some socks and her shoes. ‘Are you sure?’ she asks. ‘You can stay here and sleep if you want.’

‘Of course I am sure.’ He quickly gets himself a bit decent and walks over to her, giving her a long kiss. ‘Ready, love?’

Olivia nods and the two of them walk down the stairs. Kal sits up straight on the couch from the sudden movement in the house and Henry clicks his tongue, so the big canine follows them to the car. Henry thinks Vanessa would maybe like it if Kal was there to comfort her.

He rubs his face, as he is still a bit groggy from being up all of the sudden, but once he is in the car, he looks behind him to check the carseat. It still lightens up his mood, seeing the carseat with bears in the back of his car, even when the two of them aren’t with him. It reminds him of how he is getting closer and closer to get a family, though it feels like he is  already part of the Tran household. ‘I don’t want to look like an idiot, but tonight was amazing,’ he admits, as he drives off.

Olivia smiles. ‘I know.’ She holds onto his hand with both of hers and sighs deeply. ‘Sometimes it’s still a bit surreal that this is my life now.’

‘You deserve it,’ he whispers, turning right at the traffic lights.

‘I love you, Henry Cavill.’

‘Oh, Olivia Tran, I love you way more.’

Henry stops in front of the house of the girl where Vanessa was sleeping at and Olivia gives him a quick kiss, before she says: ‘I’ll be right back.’

She rushes towards the house, where the front door already opens. Olivia starts talking with the woman who opened the door and she gets inside.

Kal places his head on Henry’s shoulder and he gives him a kiss on the dog’s nose. ‘Hi buddy,’ he says. ‘Your favorite girl is coming back.’

Kal whines, giving his owner a lick.

‘You like it when we’re at Olivia’s and Vanessa’s, don’t you? Good thing I like it too and I feel like I owe you a thank you for vomiting over my new carpet. Otherwise I never would’ve met Olivia and Vanessa.’

Henry can’t help but smile when he sees Olivia and Vanessa coming out of the house, Vanessa rubbing her eyes as they wave to all the little girls that seem to be very sad that she is leaving.

Olivia helps Vanessa in her carseat. As she is getting strapped into the seat, he turns around in his seat, so he can look at the little girl, who is still a bit teary eyed. ‘Hi sunshine,’ he says.

‘Hi Henry,’ she mumbles, again rubbing her eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why are you sorry?’ he asks her.

‘Because I didn’t stay at the sleepover.’

Olivia gets in the car on the passengers seat and says: ‘You don’t need to feel sorry for that. Besides, you stayed longer this time than last year, remember?’

‘You’re not mad?’ Vanessa asks.

Henry shakes his head. ‘Of course not, Vanessa. We are proud of you. And you know, you just got homesick, it happens to the best of us. I remember when I was younger and I was sleeping at my grandma. I cried so hard, that I didn’t notice that I peed myself.’

Vanessa starts to giggle. ‘Silly Henry,’ she says. ‘I didn’t pee myself.’

‘That’s because you are a big girl,’ Olivia says, ‘and you are tougher than you think, sweetheart.’

Kal nudges his head against her face and Vanessa leans against him, happy that the big loyal dog is here with her. He places his head on her lap and while she is patting his head, Henry sees in the rearview mirror that she falls asleep when they are almost home.

After he stopped in front of their house, he says to Olivia: ‘I’ll carry her back inside.’

He carries the young girl in his arms and Olivia can’t help but smile at them. Once they are inside, she says: ‘Place her in my bed, I’ll be right up.’

He carries her up and he places her in the middle of the bed, before he changes back into his pajamas. Olivia walks into the room again and does the same, before she gets into the bed, just like Henry. Vanessa stirs a bit, before she rolls on top of Henry, placing her head in the crook of his neck.

Olivia smiles and curls up beside Henry. ‘You don’t mind?’ she asks, stroking through Vanessa’s hairs.

‘Not at all, sweetheart. This is right where I want to be.’

He flicks off the light and Olivia places her head against his shoulder. ‘Sleep tight, darling,’ she whispers.

‘Sleep tight, love.’

Taglist: @thelastsock​ // @flhorah​ // @sausagefest1996​ // @laufeysodinson​ // @xxxkatxo​ // @memoriesat30​ // @henrythickcavill​ // @crimsonrae​ // @henryobsessed // @madbaddic7ed​ // @summersong69​ // @lyrafraiser​ // @peakygroupie​ // @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ // @mary-ann84​ // @thereisa8ella​ //@crazyandanonymous4u // @xuxszx​ // @emmaofgreengabbles​ // @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair​ // @onlyhenrys // @omgkatinka​ // @oddsnendsfanfics​ // @speakerforthedead0 // @agniavateira // @gearhead66 // @yoyoanaria​ //

[theliterateape]

I Like to Watch | Zack Snyder’s Justice League

by Don Hall

Mythology is fun.

As a kid I loved reading Edith Hamilton’s book on the Greek gods and the myths. Hercules, Perseus, Apollo, and Hera—this fell completely in line with my love for superhero comics. The strangely petty human traits of envy, greed, and lust combined with the power to level cities make for some great storytelling.

Zeus was basically Harvey Weinstein in the retroactive revision we’re mired in today. If Harvey could’ve changed into a golden animal and boned unsuspecting ladies looking for careers in Hollywood I’m pretty certain he would. The gods and demi-gods of the Greeks dealt with daddy issues, mommy issues, bad relationships, and fighting. Lots of fighting. Sometimes for the good of humanity but more often for the glory of winning.

Zach Snyder is in the business of tackling myths and reframing them with a style all his own. His career has become its own myth.

From Dawn of the Dead (not so much a reboot of Romero's zombie mythology but a philosophical reimagining of the genre that arguably jumpstarted The Hollywood fascination with it), 300 (a borderline homoerotic take on the myth of the Greek underdog), and Watchmen (a ridiculously ambitious attempt to put one of the most iconic takedowns on the potential fascism of the superhero legend machine ever written) to his nearly single-handed hack at answering the Marvel juggernaut with Man of Steel and Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice, Snyder is in the artistic business of subverting and re-envisioning the mythologies we embrace without even seeing them as such.

Snyder's style is operatic. It is on a grand scale even in the most mundane moments. The guy loves slow motion like Scorcese loves mobsters and Italian food. When you're tackling big themes with larger than life stories, the epic nature of his vision makes sense and has alienated a good number of audience members. With such excess, there are bound to be missteps but I'd argue that his massive take on these characters he molds from common understanding and popular nomenclature elevates them to god-like stature.

Fans of Moore's Watchmen have much to complain about Snyder's adaptation. The titular graphic novel is almost impossible to put in any other form than the one Moore intended and yet, Snyder jumped in feet-first and created a living, breathing representation of most, if not all, of the source material's intent. Whether you dig on it or not, it's hard to avoid acknowledging that the first five minutes of Watchmen is a mini-masterpiece of style, storytelling, and epic tragedy wrapped up in a music video.

Despite a host of critical backlash for his one fully original take, Sucker Punch is an amazing thing to see. More a commentary on video game enthusiasm with its lust for hot animated chicks and over-the-top violence that a celebration of cleavage and guns, the film is crazily entertaining. For those who hated the ending, he told you in the title what his plan was all along.

The first movie I saw in the theaters that tried to take a superhero mythology and treat it seriously (for the most part) was Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie. Never as big a fan of the DC characters as I have been of Marvel, it was still extraordinary to see a character I had only really known in pages to be so fully realized. Then came Burton's Batman movies. The superhero film was still an anomaly but steam was gaining. Things changed with Bryan Singer's X-Men in 2000, then Raimi's Spiderman, and those of us who grew up with our pulpy versions of Athena, Hermes, and Hades were rewarded with Nolan's Batman Begins. A far cry from the tongue-in-cheek camp of the 1966 TV Batman, Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne was a serious character and his tale over three films is a tragic commentary filled with the kind of death and betrayal and triumph befitting the grand narrative he deserved.

I loved Singer's Superman Returns in 2006 because it was such a love letter to the 1978 film (down to the opening credits) but by then, the MCU was taking over the world.

Snyder's first of what turns out to be an epic storyline involving perhaps seven or eight movies was Man of Steel. It was fun and, while I had my issues with the broodiness of Kal El, the odd take on Jonathan Kent, and a redheaded Lois Lane, I had no issue with Superman snapping Zod's neck. Darker and more tragic than any other version of the Kryptonian, it was still super entertaining.

Then came Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. By 2016, Marvel had codified their formula of serious characters wrestling with serious issues of power and responsibility peppered with lots of good humor and bright colors. Snyder's desaturated pallete and angst-filled demi-gods was not the obvious road to financial competition.

I'll confess, I hated it. BvS felt half-rendered. Lex Luthor was kind of superficial and played as a kind of Joker. The whole Bruce Wayne wants to kill Superman thing felt undeveloped and the "Martha" moment was just stupid.

When Joss Whedon's version of Snyder's Justice League came out in 2017, I was primed for it to be a turd and I wasn't surprised. So much of it didn't work on any level. I dismissed it as DC trying and failing miserably and was comforted by the coming of Thanos.

Following Thanos and the time heist was COVID. Suddenly, we were internationally sidelined and the movie theater industry caved in. Streaming services started popping up like knock-off smartphones and Hollywood was reeling, doing anything and everything to find a way back. Since Whedon's disastrous helming of Snyder's third act, fans online had been demanding to #ReleasetheSnyderCut but no one was ever really taking them seriously until all movie production was shut down for a year.

The stage was set to remedy a mistake (or at least make some bucks on a do-over of a huge box office failure). Snyder had left the production in part because of the suicide of his daughter and in part due to the constant artistic fights over executives looking for the quippy fun of the MCU but he still had all the original footage. Add to that the broiling accusations that Joss Whedon was "abusive" during the reshoots, the path seemed destined. For an additional $70 million and complete control, Snyder delivered a four hour mega-movie streamed on HBOMax.

Of course, I was going to watch the thing as soon as I could.

The Whedon version opens with an homage to the now dead Superman (including the much maligned digitally erased mustache on Henry Cavill). The SynderCut opens with the death of Superman and the agony of his death scream as it travels across the planet. It's a simple change but exemplifies the very different visions of how this thing is gonna play out.

Snyder doesn't want us to be OK with the power of these beings unleashed. He wants us to feel the damage and pain of death. He wants the results of violence to be as real as he can. When Marvel's Steve Rogers kicks a thug across the room and the thug hits a wall, he crumples and it is effectively over. When Batman does the same thing, we see the broken bones (often in slow motion) and the blood smear on the wall as the thug slides to the ground.

The longer SnyderCut is bloated in some places (like the extended Celtic choir singing Aquaman off to sea or the extended narrations by Wonder Woman which sound slightly like someone trying to explain the plot to Siri). On the other hand, the scene with Barry Allen saving Iris West is both endearing and extraordinary, giving insight to the power of the Flash as well as some essential character-building in contrast to Whedon's comic foil version.

One thing I noticed in this variant is that Zach wants the audience to experience the sequence of every moment as the characters do. An example comes when Diana Prince goes to the crypt to see the very plot she belabors over later. The sequence is simple. She gets a torch and goes down. Most directors which jump cut to the torch. Snyder gives us five beats as she grabs the timber, wraps cloth around the end, soaks it with kerosene, pulls out a box of matches, and lights the torch. Then she goes down the dark passageway.

The gigantic, lush diversity of Snyder’s vision of the DC superhero universe—from the long shots of the sea life in the world of Atlantis to the ancient structures and equipment of Themyscira— is almost painterly. Snyder isn't taking our time; he's taking his time. We are rewarded our patience with a far better backstory for the villain, a beautifully rendered historic battle thwarting Darkseid's initial invasion (including a fucking Green Lantern), and answers to a score of questions set up in both previous films.

Whedon's Bruce Wayne was more Ben Affleck; Snyder's is full-on Frank Miller Batman, the smartest, most brutal fucker in the room. Cyborg, instead of Whedon's sidelined non-character, is now a Frankenstein's monster, grappling with the trade-off between acceptance and enormous power. Wonder Woman is now more in line with the Patty Jenkins version and instead of being told about the loss of Superman, we are forced to live with the anguish of both his mother and Lois Lane in quiet moments of incredible grief.

To be fair to Whedon (something few are willing to do as he is now being castigated not for racism or sexism but for being mean to people) having him come in to throw in some levity and Marvel-esque color to Snyder's Wagnerian pomposity is like hiring Huey Lewis to lighten up Pink Floyd's The Wall or getting Douglas Adams to rewrite Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

I loved Snyder's self-indulgent, mythologic DC universe.

So much so that I then re-watched Man of Steel and then watched the director's version of BvS (which Snyder added approximately 32 minutes). The second film is far better at three hours and Eisenberg's Lex Luthor now makes sense. Then I watched Zach Snyder's Justice League a second time.

After nineteen hours of Snyder's re-imagining of these DC heroes and villains, I saw details that, upon first viewing, are ignored or dismissed, but after seeing them in order and complete, are suddenly consistent and relevant. Like Nolan or Fincher, Snyder defies anyone to eliminate even one piece of his narrative no matter how long. With all the pieces, this is an epic story and the pieces left at the extended epilogue play into a grander narrative we will never see.

Or maybe we will. Who knows these days?

[superbataddicted]

Writer’s Month 2020 (Day 10)

Day 10 Prompt: Bunnies

Pairing: Superbat

Title: The Artist and his Florist - Chapter 10 - Lifting the Curse

Her emissaries came down in a swirl of stardust and shooting stars, and Bruce wanted so badly to laugh.

But Clark jabbed him in the ribs.

“This’ serious. You wouldn’t want something else to happen, right?”

That was all very true.

They were at the end stage and with this last bit of formality – sort of like players shaking hands after a match – their curse would be done. So they shouldn’t be jeopardising the situation with any improper display of behaviour.

But Bruce just couldn’t help himself, shoulders shaking with the effort to contain his mirth. For the emissaries were not at all what he had expected.

Having witnessed Her majestic grandeur, Bruce thought that Her emissaries would be of that standard too. However, it turned out otherwise, and the contrast was simply too comedic.

Instead of some awe-inspiring or fearsome entities, there stood two white bunnies about the height of Bruce’s knees. Perched on their heads were tiny crowns and in each gloved paw was a wand with a crystal star on top. Dressed in matching butler outfits, they looked as if they were drawn by a comic artist high on fluff and cuteness.

Giving them a bow, the slightly taller bunny began to speak.

“Kal of El and Bruce of Wayne, the Queen sends her congratulations.”

Upon hearing the words, the shorter and younger one snorted.

“No, She did not. She didn’t say any...”

And the younger bunny yelped in pain, thwacked on the head by the taller one with his wand.

“But I’m telling the truth! She was roaring in...”

“A word more...” the taller one warned, whiskers twitching agitatedly, “And you will not have dinner tonight.”

That shut the shorter one up immediately, but it set Bruce off instead.

With a loud guffaw, Bruce burst into laughter, a hand gripping Clark’s shoulder as his body shook. Clark wasn’t doing any better either, making choked gasping noises as he sought to control himself.

This was really beyond their expectations.

To think that She with all Her power and might, sending such emissaries...

Instead of being offended, the taller bunny visibly deflated, ears drooping dismally.

“Alright, alright! I give up,” he threw his paws in the air and the younger one clapped his in glee.

“Told you it won’t work. So can I change back now?”

The taller one waved his hand in resignation and together, they tapped their wands three times against their foreheads while muttering a chant in a strange language.

There was a magical discharge that had Bruce’s and Clark’s hair standing on ends. That sobered them up immediately and eyes curious, they stared at the albino twins who had replaced the cute bunnies.

Instead of crowns, on their heads were conical helmets embossed with a pair of wings. They still had a wand each – now a crystal rod inlaid with filigree. Their heights were still the same though, but they had switched out their butler suits for leather biker’s outfits.

“What exactly are you?” Clark asked, having no recollection of meeting such entities in his long ago past.

“Just messengers for hire,” the younger one shrugged, “This’ our real looks. The bunnies, that was his idea.”

“I just wanna do a special,” the taller one groused, still noticeably disappointed, “It’s not everyday we get to extract Her punishments. It’s been like...I dunno. I can’t remember.”

“Yah, but bunnies?” the younger one made a circling gesture with his index finger by the side of his head, “Let’s the worst idea ever.”

The taller one looked even sadder and the younger one patted his head to soothe him.

“Never mind and let’s get on with it, okay. The sand’s running out and She don’t pay for overtime.”

Nodding in agreement, the two arranged themselves such that the taller one was facing Clark and the younger facing Bruce.

“So what is going to happen now?” Bruce asked, extremely apprehensive. His encounter with Her and Her people had not been exactly pleasant.

“Nothing that will bring harm,” the taller one replied, understanding where Bruce’s concern was coming from, “Just stand still, hold hands if you want. Doesn’t really matter.”

Gulping nervously, Clark and Bruce did as was told, entwining their fingers together just in case.

Straightening up, the taller one began to speak, voice deepening as power began to gather.

“Kal of El. For your act of forbidden love and soul-bind, you have been cursed to wander through time and space, never to die and always seeking your love lost.”

“And you, Bruce of Wayne,” the shorter one intonated, “For your act of forbidden love and soul-bind, you have been stripped off your name, Brug of Ehrosh and made mortal, living only to die, re-born only to suffer the same fate.”

Both Bruce and Clark could feel the magic thrumming through the air, like the heaviness before a thunderstorm. They dared not move nor make a sound, afraid of disrupting the ritual.

“But you, Kal of El, succeeded in finding the love you have lost,” the taller one spoke.

“And you Bruce of Wayne, fulfilled the three trials as was called for,” continued the shorter one.

“And so,” the two joined voices, speaking in unison, “What has been demanded of has now been satisfied and what has been meted out must now be taken back.”

The oppressive feel of magic against their skin. The nerve-wrecking suspense that had Clark and Bruce on edge. Both of them were so highly-strung that they almost jumped out of their skin when the twins lifted their wands high up.

Muttering another chant, different from the earlier one, the magical energy was suddenly sucked into the wands causing a roar of wind, loud and fierce. Clark and Bruce hunkered against each other, buffeted by currents that tore at their clothes and lashed their hair against their skin.

Then all went still and silent. And Clark and Bruce opened their eyes to find the twins high-fiving each other.

“Still got it, right!” The taller one, grinned, “Was afraid of forgetting bits here and pieces there.”

“Yup,” the younger one nodded, eyes shining with excitement, “The last part was real hard. For a moment, I thought I had it pronounced wrong.”

“And what will have happened if it was wrong?” Clark asked, concern creasing his brows.

“I dunno,’ the taller one shrugged, “Maybe turned into a chicken or something?”

And Bruce and Clark shuddered, breaking out into cold sweat. She must really be that upset to have sent such emissaries to do Her work. 

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 - Part 1) , Chapter 6 (Part 2) , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9

(Last Chapter - Lights (And there will be smut.)) 

[mercurypilgrim]

Submitted Post from Firija

English is not my native language, I apologize in advance for my mistakes. And this is my first time to try and contact someone per tumblr, so I hope this is the right way.

I have been thinking about how to make your Ocs happy (or happier in some cases) and stumbled upon the good old game mechanic of giving gifts.

So, how would your Ocs react if they started getting gifts from this random Smuggler on Odessen base? She doesn’t have an ulterior motive, doesn’t want to hop into anyones bed (she is in a happy relationship with Corso), she just likes people to be happy. And giving gifts. Maybe see them happy. (Does that count as an ulterior motive?) She has no problem admitting that.

How would they like these specific ideas?

Jediahi – claw polish, chip-resistant. (There has to be an equivalent for nail polish for Cathar. And my Smuggler would find it. Or bribe someone from Oggurrubs lab to invent it.)

Kal – She is decent at judging people, but he is more than decent at lying so… she wouldn’t even get close to his real personality. She would have to choose on basis of his gameface. In his character portrait he seems to have a pierced ear, she would try an ear stud, small, not easy to grab, silver (that should go well with his skincolour).

Beryon – he is the most grumpy and unhappy-looking person on base she is reasonably certain will not kill her (in contrast to most Sith), so he will get the most effort. She would probably start with chocolate. Wether he likes chocolate or not – one present will not make him noticable happier, therefore she needs to up the game. Next she would try flowers with interesting smells. Then she somehow gets her hands on some Miraluka art. (Objects can be infused with the force and since every Miraluka is force sensitive, I headcanon that there has to be art that can just be „seen“ in the force.) She aquired a box with a variety of objects and checked with a Miraluka Smuggler, since she is completely forceblind. He confirmed the status as art objects. She presents the box to Beryon with a lot of badly hidden hopeful enthusiasm. Most of the art are the Miraluka-equivalent of landscape pictures – nice, but not spectacular. At least one of them is porn.

Ven'fir, the Commander – She would try to enlist Quinns help: An album of holo-stills of Quinn. She wouldn’t try to go for nudes or something like that (though I guess Ven would like to see them, Quinn would in no way be okay with her taking them) but a combination of snapshots and staged holos. I first had this image of her sneaking around base, trying to take snapshots, but for one, stalking him would be kind of creepy, and second, it would be very dangerous. I mean, she is really good at sneaking, being invisible and being visible but unremerkable, but this base has Ex-ImpInts. (And taking holos disrupts invisibility.)

She would offer Quinn that he can be the one to give it to Ven. (And Quinn gets every copy of every holo, too, of course). Should Quinn completely refuse… then she has to make a new plan (and so do I).

Avior – I am not sure if he even is on Odessen, but if he were… a rubic’s cube not with different colours, but surfaces that feel different to touch. If it isn’t to his liking, it should at least not be offensive enough to make him murder her.

Qel – She wouldn’t know a lot about him and would know better than to sneak after a Sith to get information (and I cannot remeber a lot about him), but judging from your picrew he has long hair. A hair ornament with a hidden lockpick, in a style matching his other jewellery.

Ryali – lemon sherbets and jumping chocolate frogs. Wrong universe? See, a funny thing happend last week in some old ruins…, nevermind, not important.

Thank you for all your stories and your great OCs!

- Firija

Oh, goodness! This is wonderful, thank you so much for submitting this! (I made a funny noise when I read it <3 ) You have excellent taste, I must say. These ideas are absolutely perfect!

(I have edited this post with my response rather than reblogging it, so as to keep you anonymous. Tumblr shows the email address if it’s supplied with a submitted post! :) )

I shall respond in character, for funsies. 😉

Jediahi – claw polish, chip-resistant.

She blinks down at you, a little confused why someone she doesn’t know is handing her something. She’s trying to figure out if she knows you and has forgotten your face.

That doesn’t last long however, before she breaks out in a large grin. She tries to be careful with the gift as she removes the packaging, but her claws snag the paper in her excitement.

When she sees what it is, she’s delighted.

She immediately starts to gush about the gift, talking about how she likes the colours and how they’ll go with her armour. She gathers you up in a hug, lifting your feet off the floor, beaming.

She thanks you again as she sets you down and asks you if you want to go to the cantina and get a drink. She could always use more gal pals, she says, and you’re a sweet one. She asks if you like flamethrowers, and you realise that you’ve gained a friend weather you wanted one or not.

Kal –an ear stud, small, not easy to grab, silver.

Kal looks at you with a smile that’s bordering on fixed. He seems to be too still, his eyes searching for your ulterior motive.

He seems to decide on something and then his smile looks almost natural, and he accepts the gift, carefully unwrapping it from it’s coverings. He pauses when he sees it, and he looks from it to your face and back again.

He grins.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He says, and you can’t tell if he’s being honest. You think he is though, because you see him carefully put the box away in his pocket as he leaves, his expression strangely open as he does so.

From then on, he smirks at you in the corridors, and you’re not sure if his attention is a good thing or not. At least no one bothers you anymore.

Beryon – Chocolate, scented flowers, and Miraluka art (with some steamy pieces thrown in)

Beryon tells you to fuck off when you try and present him with your gift.

He’s convinced you’re making fun of him, and his cheeks start turning red as you insist that you’re not.

He accepts it with a gruff thanks, and all but flees from you. He opens his gift later, in private, and stares at the chocolate for a long time before he tries some. He likes it and keeps it for special occasions or when he’s feeling particularly off balance. He puts a square in his mouth and mediates, and it helps.

When you present him with the flowers, he doesn’t know what to say. He awkwardly tries to tell you that he’s not interested in you like that and seems relieved when you assure him that that’s not your intention.

He breathes in the scent of the flowers, and he smiles before he remembers that you’re there. He mumbles a thank you, and marches away again. He puts the flowers in his quarters, and they made him smile when he smells them.

When you give him the art, he tries to refuse. He tries to tell you that you shouldn’t be wasting your credits on him and attempts to push the box back into your hands. Your insistence makes him flustered, and he informs you that he will find something to give back to you. It sounds a little bit like a threat, but you’re mostly sure it isn’t one.

He goes through them in his quarters and enjoys them, until he gets to the steamy ones. He blushes bright red and hides them back in the box, before taking them out again ten minutes later.

He puts the art in his room when he can enjoy it when he’s stressed, and the steamy ones go in the box under the bed.

When he next sees you, he shoves a little present in your hands. It’s not wrapped and he’s very awkward about it, but he’s found a little hanging charm for her pilots chair. It’s a crystal that shines when the light hits it, and it can be cracked open to hide something small inside. He mutters something about it being purely practical and doesn’t mention that he went to Kira to help him find something for you.

Ven'fir, the Commander –An album of holo-stills of Quinn (gained with Quinn’s co-operation).

Quinn stares at you when you outline your plan to him. At first, he’s cool towards you, and he sounds defensive when he talks about the Commander, as if he’s suspicious of your motives.

Eventually you seem to thaw him enough to hear you out, and he listens. He blushes pink when you tell him the intricacies of your plan, and he automatically refuses. Before you can say anything else, he seems to think for a second before sighing. Ven’fir is a sentimental person, and he really would like the holos. Quinn seems uncomfortable with the idea of using himself in a gift, feeling it too close to arrogance to assume Ven’fir would want holos of him.

It takes a while to convince him, but you do.

He agrees to help, and soon you have a small collection of holos. He’s fussy about them, often insisting that you retake them if there’s something he doesn’t like, but the result is undeniable.

He stuffily complements your holo taking skills as though you he was doing your performance review, but he seems to be trying to be nice.

He insists that you be the one to present Ven’fir with the gift, abjectly refusing to take any credit at all.

Ven’fir looks amused when you hand him the holo album, but his expression softens as he flicks through it.

He’s delighted, and showers Quinn in vaguely inappropriate compliments that make him go red.

He smiles at you and thanks you sincerely, looking a little misty.

From then on, he greets you with a smile and a wave in the corridors, and he always buys you and whoever you’re with a drink in the cantina when he sees you there.

Avior – a rubic’s cube not with different colours, but surfaces that feel different to touch.

Avior doesn’t visit the base often, but you manage to catch him on one of the occasions that he does. He waves away his security, as if he needs it, and allows you to approach him. He’s a looming presence, and static sparks on your fingers when you hand him the gift. He seems to consider you, and you get the strange feeling of being weighed.

Whatever he senses from you, it seems to satisfy him. He thanks you, deadly serious as ever, but doesn’t open the gift in front of you.

Later, you receive a holomail that’s encrypted to within an inch of it’s life, expressing thanks in the most formal way possible until the end, where he admits that he’s caught himself playing with it in dull meetings. You get the feeling that you’re not really supposed to spread this around.

Qel –A hair ornament with a hidden lockpick, in a style matching his other jewellery.

Qel is suspicious of the gift at first, frowning at you when you try and press the box into his hands.

He signs at you, asking what it is. When you tell him it’s a gift, he asks again. He only relents when you admit what you’ve been doing, and he realises that you’re the one who gave his Master, Avior, his gift. Wary but deciding that if Avior deems you safe enough then you must be alright, he accepts.

When he opens it, you can see how surprised he is.

You previously spotted that he already wears jewellery, hammered bracelets on his wrists that clink as he moved, and his ears are pierced through with silver. Charms and pretty things are on his belt and you can see him smile as he turns your gift over in his hands.

His cheeks turn purple as he blushes, and he signs his thanks to you, hands moving almost too fast to make out.

When you explain the other function, he looks fascinated. His hair, a mess of a long braid, is soon pinned behind his head and he offers you a shy smile when you comment on it. It suits him, and he awkwardly thanks you again, genuinely pleased.

He insists on giving you something back, apparently unable to fathom something coming with no price attached and removes one of the hammered silver bracelets from his wrist. There’s a charm hanging from it that looks handmade, bone and some polished stone you don’t recognise, and he presses it into your hands. When you touch it, you feel a sense of security settle over you and you’re sure it feels cooler than it should.

He smiles when he sees you wearing it.

Ryali – lemon sherbets and jumping chocolate frogs.

Ryali’s perpetual smile widens when you present him with your gift. He accepts with a demure thank you, and his violet eyes are warm even as they sharpen on you.

He opens to gift, exceedingly careful with the wrapping so as not to tear it, and beams at what is inside.

He’s thrilled with the gift, and promptly invites you to share some tea with him to try the sweets.  

He gets you talking, and the two of you share stories and gossip over perfectly brewed tea and lemon sherbets. When the tea finally runs dry, he stands and walks you to the door with the smile still on his face, and you realise that you’ve been talking for hours when you’d only meant to stay for a few minutes.

He winks, and you realise just how a Sith like that keeps the Academy in check.

[jenuinelyinlovewithtsc]

Untitled Shadowhunter Fan Fic Chapter 3

Here’s Kal again. Jace, Clary, Izzy, Simon, Alec and Magnus are in this chapter! :)

Chapter 3: Kal

Kal approached the front gates of the Prospect Park Zoo, stopping some 50 yards away to slip behind a tree and scout out the area, glancing around, looking for the usual signs. After a five minute watch turned up nothing demonic or angelic in nature, he decided it was safe to continue. He paused at the gate, drawing out his stele and pressing the tip of it to the worn iron. A neatly-drawn opening rune lay inset in the iron when he backed away, watching as the gate shuddered open with a metallic groan. Pausing to ensure he hadn’t upset anyone or anything, Kal pressed on into the Zoo until he came to a crossroads. A brightly colored sign with playful handwriting denoted the path to the left as the Discovery Trail, while the sign beneath it read ‘Sea Lion Court’, accompanied by a bright yellow arrow pointing straight ahead. Unsure of where exactly in the zoo his targets might be, he opted for the left-most path and turned onto the Discovery Trail.

As he walked the path, Kal swept his eyes over the dimly lit exhibits, his blue eyes meeting the beady red, yellow, and white gazes of the zoo’s more nocturnal creatures. Most of the animals scattered as soon as they saw him, seeking shelter under exhibit enrichments like rocks or dens. A few glanced at him with a sort of vague curiosity before growing bored and returning to their nightly routines. The night air was crisp and calm, hung with the sound of vehicles on Washington Avenue, all city noise save the occasional yelp or howl. The slight chill stung Kal’s cheeks as he passed by the Beaver exhibit, glancing at the two animals asleep snuggly in their den.

If only I could have just gone to sleep.

As he rounded the corner toward the Aviary house, sudden piercing screams filled the otherwise calm night air. Kal instinctively leapt behind a nearby fake rock, quickly shifting so that he could peer around its rough cement edge. The sky above the Aviary house was filled with birds of all types, hundreds of them, squawking and crying out as they poured out the open doors of the building. Beneath the bird calls and cries, Kal could make out several voices. “You’re in violation of the accords,” came a throaty male voice. “Summoning-“Came a different voice, its cadence suddenly lost under the sounds of squawking and flapping wings. The voice came back into audible range. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

A rogue warlock?

The sky above the aviary had cleared, the birds now distant winged silhouettes against the dim light of a half moon. Kal slid out from behind the fake rock and began to make his way toward the open doors of the aviary house. “You summoned-“ “WATCH OUT!” The sound of twisting metal broke through the night air. Kal dashed through the doors, drawing Durendal from its sheath at his back as he raced through the long exhibit-lined hallway. More sounds echoed out of the main gallery, low growls and hisses, metal tearing through flesh.

Demons.

Kal nearly burst through the doors into the gallery, Durendal in his grip, but stopped short when a familiar piercing cry struck through sound of battle.

Elapid demons?

The scar that ran from his right shoulder, down to his collarbone seemed to throb. Kal peered around the doors. The room was dim, lit only by the beams of moonlight pouring in through the skylights overhead. Without a nightvision rune, Kal could just make out four humanoid figures. They danced about the room, seeming to float over the glossy marble floor as they tangled with two darker, larger shadows. Elapids. He saw flashes of silver and bright light seemed to pour from the human’s hands as they whipped them through the air. One of them passed under a beam of moonlight and Kal caught a flash of red and the unmistakable appearance of runes; black lines against pale skin. As Kal’s eyes adjusted, they confirmed his presumptions. Fighting before him were two pairs of shadowhunters. The first pair were a broad-shouldered male with hair that shone gold in the moonlight and a slight female whose bright red hair was pulled up tightly against the back of her head. Both wore shadowhunter gear and bore seraph blades blazing bright light. The two were pushing the demon back, shearing off insectile legs with swings of their blades, which were coated in black-green ichor. The demon’s snake-like head lashed out at the male suddenly, its open jaws covered in a yellowish substance that left indents in the ground and burns in the shadowhunter’s clothing wherever it touched. The boy slid to the side, avoiding the glance in the nick of time, as the girl lunged for the creature, burying her blade in the demon’s soft underbelly.

Kal’s eyes flashed to the other two shadowhunters across the gallery floor. They, too, were fighting an Elapid demon. The female contrasted rather starkly with the red-headed girl, with her taller stature and midnight black hair that swung loose around her head as she slashed out at the demon with a whip that shone gold. Was she wearing heels? The boy fighting alongside her was athletic but slim, a shock of brown hair dangling into his eyes as he dodged a swipe of the demon’s claws. Their gear jackets were similarly torn and burned.

The first elapid demon fell, disappearing in a shower of ash as the red-headed girl’s blade found its heart. The second was still fighting, despite missing several legs. As Kal turned to look, the demon bore down on the girl with the black hair, cornering her, forcing her to the floor. The boy with the brown hair moved to strike out at the demon but was flung backward by a brisk sweep of one of its legs. Kal tightened his grip on Durendal and began to race across the floor to help the girl. The sound of something whipping through the air once again stopped him up short. An arrow sank into the demon’s scaly back, striking true, as the demon disappeared before it’s claws could strike the girl. A tall boy with medium-length black hair bearing a bow and quiver stepped out from the shadows, followed by a man with olive skin and spiky black hair.

They must have come from the other exhibit wing.

As the two made their way toward the center of the room where the other shadowhunters had gathered after dusting themselves off and applying iratzes, Kal slinked back inside the doorway before anyone could see him, pressing his body up against one of the opened doors so that he could once again peer around it.

“I could’ve handled that,” said the girl with black hair, right as the boy with brown hair spoke, “It’s about time you two showed up!”

The two exchanged a glance, the girl narrowing her eyes at the brown-haired boy, who looked a bit sheepish under her glare.

“I mean, uh, we had that handled, like Izzy said,” he corrected, clearing his throat.

The girl with the red hair caught the eye of the brown-haired boy and gave him a quick thumbs up, mouthing the words ‘Good job, Simon’.

“Where did you two run off to?” Asked the boy with the golden hair, gesturing to the two who had just made it to the center of the room.

“No one ever thanks me,” muttered the boy with the black hair.

“Ah Alexander, heroes are never given the thanks they deserve,” said the man with the spiky black hair. Looking closer, Kal could see that his eyes appeared to be yellow with small pupils, like a cat’s.

A warlock, then.

Izzy rolled her eyes and held a hand out to Alexander, who helped her to her feet.

“We went to deal with the warlock that summoned these foul creatures,” said the man with the spiky hair. “He’s since…passed on his way.”

“You killed him?” Asked the girl with the red hair, shock clear in her voice.

“He didn’t exactly give us a choice, Clary,” said Alexander. The girl, Clary, looked somewhat bothered nevertheless.

The boy beside her reached out and laced his fingers with hers, clearly a supportive gesture. But his posture was stiff as he spoke, “We were supposed to bring him in for the Clave to deal with.”

At the mention of the Clave, Kal’s blood began to boil, his vision tinging red as he balled his hands up into white-knuckled fists.

Of course they were stupid Clave lovers.

“Well, I’m sorry but it didn’t go that way Jace,” said the man with the spiky hair, his tone cool and unbothered.

“And his body?” asked Izzy.

“Magnus already sent it back to the institute,” said Alexander, gesturing to the warlock.

Magnus? Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn?

Everybody in the Downworld knew Magnus. He was widely considered a hero for the part he played, alongside a daylighter and four shadowhunters, in stopping Sebastian Morgenstern during the Dark War. It was also widely known that he was engaged to one of the shadowhunters that had gone to Edom to stop Morgenstern. Though some downworlders frowned upon his infatuation with the Nephilim and his involvement in their affairs, Kal believed Magnus had the right to love whomever he wanted, even if it was an idiotic shadowhunter loyal to the Clave.

Alexander must be his shadowhunter boyfriend.

“Good. We should clean up here and head back to the Institute,” said Jace, moving to pick up a fallen seraph dagger.

“Uh… what about the hundred-some-odd birds we appear to have released?” Asked Simon. He turned to Magnus. “Can you just ‘poof’ them back into existence, happy and safe in their exhibits?”

Magnus rolled his eyes and sighed. “I can’t exactly ‘borrow’ a hundred birds and have it gone unnoticed, now can I?”

“Is there some magical way to bring the birds back?” Asked Clary. She seemed to have recovered from her earlier worries and was standing up straight with her hand in Jace’s.

Magnus paused, thinking, before he responded. “I could ‘borrow’ a bunch of stuffed birds and place them in the cages.”

“I don’t exactly think it’ll pass muster,” said Jace, though he had an amused look in his eye.

“It’s better than nothing,” Izzy said with a shrug.

“Stuffed birds it is,” said Clary, a smile breaking out over her face.

Blue fire suddenly lit at the tips of Magnus’ fingers, and Kal jumped when a stuffed bird hit him in his side as it made its way into existence and promptly fell out of its cage.

The group moved toward the far exit and Kal, his rage somewhat quelled by the sudden stuffed bird attack, re-sheathed Durendal, then began to retrace his steps, exiting out the door he’d come in through.

***

On the subway ride home, Kal couldn’t stop thinking about the Clave, and in turn, what they had done to his parents.

Before Kal was born, his parents had been part of an idealistic group called ‘Abduco’. Latin for ‘to lead’, the group had been at odds with the Clave, believing that its treatment of Downworlders was abhorrent, that shadowhunters and downworlders should be equals, working together to rid the planet of demonic threats. His parents had explained that the group had been comprised of a bunch of young shadowhunters, who, idealistic in their youth, had believed that the Clave could change its ways. But when the group had gone to the Clave with their suggestions, the Clave had rejected them, dismissing them as demon-blood-loving fools. Then, weary of any opposition, the Clave had hunted down anyone suspected of being involved with the group, holding them in the gard without trial. So, the group had gone underground, their plans had changed. Instead of achieving their goals through diplomacy, the group opted to force the change they wished to see. A plot had been schemed up to unseat the Consul and Inquisitor, by force if necessary. Kal’s parents had never told him the specifics of the plan, just that no one would have come to harm and that it was meant to allow the Clave to start fresh, without the prejudiced views and customs of the past. But before Abduco could see the plan through, the Clave had found out and invaded their base of operations in Brocelind Forest. His parents hadn’t been present, but when involvement in group was traced back to them, they were apprehended just like the rest. A trial was held for each member, and all were charged with treason against the Clave, deemed unworthy to be of Nephilim kind. They had been stripped of their marks and exiled, left alone to rot in the mundane world with no mercy, no shelter, and no purpose.

Just for their association with a group that had wanted nothing more than to see Downworlders be equals, his parents had been plucked from the only world they knew. Just for their beliefs, everything they had known was taken away from them, their families and friends, their homes and hopes and dreams. For Kal, it had painted a clear picture of the Claves; a group of bigoted, prejudiced, and selfish, power-hungry cowards who cared not for anyone but their own kind and justified any means to their own ends.

So, if Kal hated the Clave and all its subjugates for what they did to his parents and others like them, why had he been ready to put his life on the line for a group of Clave members?

I just wanted to help them slay the demons, that’s all. It’s my duty, after all. Plus the girl, Izzy, was inexplicably gorgeous.

He also wondered about the warlock who had summoned the Demons. He knew that many things drove Downworlders to go rogue but couldn’t figure out why a warlock would summon only lesser demons. Was he discovered by the shadowhunters before he could summon a greater demon to do his bidding? And what had he done that had forced Magnus Bane and his boyfriend to kill him?

They’re Clave jockeys, they probably just killed that warlock for the hell of it.

White-knuckled and unsettled by his thoughts, Kal got off the A-train at Queens Station and walked back to the loft, trying hard to upend the thoughts warring in his mind and the feelings of rage, disbelief, and curiosity toiling in his chest.