#so maybe he didn't have the time or the opportunity

[cherryyluvs]

Third Wheel Trouble

Mark was supposed to have a romantic skating date with you. But thanks to Debbie, he now has an unexpected plus one, his very nosy little brother (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Mark had been looking forward to this date for days, just him and you finally. A nice, normal perfect night out where he can give you all his attention instead of you know, saving the world.

Just the two of you, holding hands, maybe even sneaking a few kisses in if he was lucky.

So when he walked into the living room all freshly showered, decently dressed for once and ready to head out.

Of course, Debbie had other plans.

“You're taking Oliver,” Debbie said, completely ignoring the way Mark choked on his own spit. “What!?” Nearly dropping his skates. “Mom, no. No way it's a date!”

“And Oliver's a child who wants to get out the house” She said while ruffling Oliver’s hair. “You'll be responsible. Right Mark?”

Mark’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Turning around expecting Oliver to protest but nope! The kid was already smiling, shoes on and ready to go.

“But–”

Before another word, Debbie gave him that Mom look.

Mark groaned, pressing his fingers into his eyes before throwing his hands in defeat. “Fine”

It only got worse from there.

When Mark pulled up, you were expecting a cute night out with him. Instead, the first thing you noticed when you slid into the passenger seat was.. “Oliver?”

You looked between the two of them, the way Oliver was happily kicking his feet in the backseat while Mark looked like he wanted to crash into oncoming traffic.

“Oh my god” You beamed. “Your mom made you bring him. Didn't she?”

Mark scowled. “Don't ask.”

But it was too late, you were already giggling.

This was going to be fun.

At first it was just a few minor interruptions, every time Mark tried to subtly hold your hand. Oliver skated right between you two. Mark tries to whisper something cute? Oliver slurps his milkshake obnoxiously loud.

Mark dares to make flirty eye contact? “Why are you staring at her like that?

Mark was losing it, and you? You were loving it. Barely holding it together, biting your lips to keep yourself from laughing as Mark sat there, completely dead inside.

And then?

“Oh!” Oliver's eyes widened. “You're the girl Mark won't shut up about?” Mark choked.

“Oliver!”

“What?” Oliver blinked innocently. “You talk about her all the time”

Your smirk grew, turning to face Mark, resting your chin on your palm. “All the time?”

Mark, red faced and flustered, grabbed a fry and shoved it into Oliver’s mouth.

“Eat.”

“He's adorable” You giggled watching him munch on the fries.

After an hour of skating, Oliver finally gets distracted by the snake bar. Seizing the opportunity, Mark grabbed your hand and pulled you to the edge of the rink, away from the chaos.

“Finally” He muttered, pressing quick kisses to your knuckles.

You smiled. “Desperate, are we?”

Mark exhaled, leaning his forehead against yours. “You have no idea” Your breath hitched , caught up in the warmth of his body and the cool air of the rink. The distant hum of music surrounded you, the twinkling lights above casting a soft shadow over Mark’s face.

He looked at you, like you were the only person in the world. He was just about to lean when–

Thud.

A tray of nachos and cheese hit the ground.

“Aw, come on!” You and Mark turned your heads at the same time. Oliver stood there, arms crossed, and a big frown on his face.

Pointing an accusatory finger at mark.

“I leave for 2 minutes and you guys are already being gross?”

Mark groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oliver”

“What?” he huffed, walking up and standing between you two. “Mom said to make sure you weren't doing anything weird”

You blushed, laughter bubbling up before you could stop it. Mark, however, looked like he wanted to pass out from the secondhand embarrassment. “Dude, you're, like, the worst chaperone ever.”

Mark looked at you helplessly, but you smiled. Grabbing his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze,

“Guess you'll have to be sneakier next time” you teased, bumping his shoulder playfully.

Mark lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “Next time, I'm leaving him at home."

[angelltheninth]

Hi! Can we have a JJK men reacts to their gf wanting/asking a headlock from them? 🤭 (cuz big strong biceps 💪🏻) Thank you!

Well I did start working out more lately, would like to put them in a headlock.

Pairing: Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna, Megumi Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Yuta Okkotsu x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, banter, headlock, prank, slightly suggestive, kissing

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: They all want to wrap you up in their powerful beefy arms. There.

Yuji chuckles when you ask him to put you in a headlock, thinking that you weren't being serious. When he realizes you were he's more than happy to fulfill his girlfriend's request. He's always been in a good shape, but since he became a Sorcerer he's put in even more thought into his training so he knows he could put you in a headlock easily. As he puts you in a headlock he flexes his biceps, taking the opportunity to show off so close to you.

Sukuna has four arms so he can put you in a headlock for times in four different ways. More than happy to do so because he feels like he can show his power over his woman, show you how easy you are to subdue. You asked for it yourself but as soon as he gets you into a headlock he gloats about it like it was his idea and grins down at you triumphantly. When he sees you blushing and grinning at him he bends down and captures your lips in a heated kiss, further showing how much power he has over you.

Megumi feels like the requests is really silly and honestly he doesn't really want to do it. However you are very persistent in getting him to do it, asking over and over again, annoying him to the point where the only way to shut you up is to put you in a headlock. You laugh as he pins you down onto the bed, his arm around your neck, just holding you in place. While he still doesn't see why this is fun for you he's happy that he could make you laugh, as strange of a woman as you are.

Gojo laughed when you asked him to put you in a headlock, but not because he meant to make fun of you. Not that he would ever make fun of his girlfriend, but he will point out how cute it is when you ask him with such a big grin on your face. He doesn't think he's the most muscular man out there so he doesn't know how well this will work or how much you'll enjoy it. As he puts you in a he kisses your cheek really quick, making you smile even more, maybe more than the headlock itself.

Nanami always knew you were a weird girl with weird tastes, ever since you were in school together. Up until this point he was sure that your weirdness wouldn't extend to your relationship with him and apparently he was wrong. Hearing you ask this of him is odd but it's nothing hurtful, so he will gladly do so. Kisses you as soon as you thank him for it, you're too damn cute for your own good a lot of the time, but as long as you're this cute only around him it's not that much of a problem.

Geto shrugs as you ask him, it's not really something he thought about doing before but he isn't opposed to making his girlfriend happy through whatever means. And if it unlocks something new and enjoyable for you to do in the bedroom it's even better. He can already see how this move could be used in bed, to keep you close to him. But right now he keeps it gentle, the pressure around your neck is certianly there but he would never hurt you intentionally, without you asking.

Choso blushes at your request and was very close to telling you no until you promised to kiss him in return. You sure do like to abuse the girlfriend privileges you have, he might have to become more resistant to that. Lightly he puts his arm around you, asking how much he should squeeze, he's trying to be so careful with you. He didn't even notice that you asked him to this in front of mirror and take a picture to put it as your new lock screen until he sees it hours later.

Toji puts you in a headlock as soon as you ask him, and it kind of becomes his favorite way to hug you. The height difference between you two has always been a thing, but now that he has you up against him it's even more prominent. He always knew he had the best, hottest, cutest woman as his girlfriend. A headlock is less of a show of power for him, it could have been were you his enemy, but as it stands it's a cute thing he does for you, which he will actually deny if you point it out for him.

Yuta feels like it's not quite the request he would think would come out of your mouth but when you asked him he got pretty bashful about it. The only way he will do this is if he can also cuddle with you while he does it, so he makes himself comfortable on your couch and lifts his arm. His arm was barely in the air for a few seconds and you were already pressing against his chest so he could lock his arm around you. You're a strange girl but you're his girl, and there's nothing he would change about you.

[midnightshindig]

I've had the idea of another Multi-Paul drabble rolling around in my head, so bare with me:

Think of him getting out of prison in the newer episode and meeting up with his s/o who he left behind after getting locked up. The both of them having a dramatic meet-up after s/o was sure she wouldn't be seeing him for a while

(maybe he gets a lil handsy (´ 3｀))

MultiPaul x Reader

no nsfw for this one, still debating my feelings on the dude for the time being.

I've been getting some questions about how I pick and choose who I will or won't write for, write smut for, etc. I'll keep it real: sometimes it's just bc I don't want to. An NSFW alphabet is different than a full oneshot or drabble, or consistent requests. I stand by my character list pinned to the top of my profile, although feel free to check it every now and again to see if its changed

thank you! hcs, like always, under the cut!

There had been only a couple of things on Paul's mind since being imprisoned:

The Order should be getting him soon

If they didn't, he was going to be killed, so he couldn't share The Order's secrets

If he died, he wouldn't make it home to you

So the motivation for escape was clear

He didn't want to die and he COULDN'T die before getting to see you

On those restless nights on that hard prison bed, he could see you, waiting for him, so far away, all alone in your shared apartment

You were probably feeding his pitbull, Xerox

Multi-Paul was suddenly very grateful you two got along so well

it quelled his anxieties, slightly, to know you werent' completely defenseless in his absence.

it'd been a few months

god

a few MONTHS

Paul was going a little stir crazy

You couldn't visit, lest you be outed as an affiliate of him

and he couldn't have every superhero and villain in a twenty mile radius gunning for you

The thought of Machine Head or even Titan being around you made him sick

You didn't belong in a world like that

his world

No, he shook his head to himself, folding his arms and leaning against the wall of his cell

that wasn't all his world was, not anymore

You had a way of broadening his horizons

ugh. he couldn't help but miss you, it chewed away at him, and made the maddeningly claustrophobic walls of his container all the more frustrating

So, when the opportunity presented itself, he escaped

he'd brutalize and kill and maime as many copies of himself as it took to get to you

god knows it would be worth it

Not even Atom Eve could contain him, not when he had you on the agenda

All the while, you HAD been lonely

It'd been just you and Xerox in that homely apartment, too empty and too hollow without Paul around

You knew this was the risk of his occupation, and couldn't even claim to be surprised

but you couldn't visit

you couldn't call

you couldn't tell anyone about what you were going through

you felt so completely and utterly alo-

"Hey babe"

"Holy shit-" you shot up from your seat on the couch and directed your attention to

"Paul!" running over, you threw your arms around you, allowing him to swing you around ceremoniously

He set you down gently, pressing you into a sweet kiss "I missed you" he sounded worn down, if not absolutely exhausted by whatever he'd gone through before coming to you

You rested a hand of his face, gently supporting his heavy head "Oh, Paul.... are you safe?"

He sucked a sharp breath in though his teeth, looking at the door hesitantly "ehhhh....." he looked back and shrugged half-heartedly "Sort of? They think they still have me."

A sly smile broke out across his face, revelling in his own talent and capability

The talent and capability that brought him home

His moment of self-appreciation was broken by your sniffling

"Wh- Y/n?"

You were crying quietly, trying to wipe it all away with your fists, getting your tears all over your hands and making it worse

"Oh- Fuck- uh-" he wrapped you into a soft hug, pressing your head into his chest "It's okay, babe, I'm here"

You hit his chest with your fists gently "I didn't think I was going to see you for months- YEARS- Paul." Your anger was filled with an unmistakable sense of fear and deep loneliness

Oh... you poor thing....

Paul couldn't help but press a reassuring kiss to the top of your head

"It's okay, Y/n, you know I'm the best at what I do."

"They GOT YOU, Paul. You were in there for MONTHS and I was ALONE." your desperation to be understood caused your throat to crack up, and your voice strained

He didn't realize you were this pained- or, no, he did, he just never expected to be so directly confronted with it

but here you were, here he was, everything was fine

and you sobbed a little harder into his chest, ruining his prison shirt

"I don't want to lose you, Paul. I love you."

He gently brushed his fingers over your hair, smoothing out the flyaways

"It's okay, I'm here now, I'm here now."

"Don't do that to me, ever again, okay?" you asked between sniffles

His expression softened as he nodded "Of course not, of course not. I got you. I've got you." He leaned down and kissed you again, your tears staining his face, but he didn't care

You'd calmed down a bit, and Paul took this as an opportunity

"do you want to sit down for a bit? We can... order dinner?" he proposed, eliciting a small smile from you

"That sounds nice, can I choose?"

He faked a gasp "Y/n, I've been eating prison food for months!"

You smacked his shoulder with a bigger smile "Too bad, we're getting Indian food."

He fake-groaned, slumping onto your shoulders "Boo- y/n, you know I hate indian food"

"Paul, stop, you looooove indian food."

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek "Yeah yeah, you got me."

[staying-elive]

You know, the MCU had so many great opportunities to really highlight Sam's pararescue background and flesh out his origin story on-screen.

I'll forever be sad we haven't gotten any flashbacks to him rescueing people in his EXO 7 wings.

Was he still serving when Tony was captured by the Ten Rings people? Could he have been frustrated at potentially getting pulled from his unit so that he and Riley could try to extract some billionaire weapons manufacturer.

Could've shown the times he butted up against authority, where he felt that following the orders given were the wrong move and wasn't right. (Something that tied into "Well, the number of people around here giving orders is down to zero, so yeah.")

Also, if Sam's EXO program was around before Iron Man 1, then the air force already possessed that kind of flight technology. Was the EXO 7 also Stark tech back then? Or was it developed by the Air Force itself? Did Rhodey know about it? Was he involved in its development as head of the weapons R&D sector? (I headcanon yes, cos I'd like history between Sam and Rhodey.)

Were the wings developed as a weapon/offensive measure first before they were then used for rescue purposes? (the military cynic in me says yes) Could this have been another interesting ethical dilemma Sam thought about.

Or maybe it could've been revealed that after field testing the EXOs in rescue ops, the air force was getting reckless with them and started sending Sam and Riley out on more dangerous offensive missions, and that's when Riley was killed (routine op was just the cover story).

Could've really hammered home the theme of Sam distrusting the government and that they will always end up using any weapon (or symbol) that's given to them. And he didn't want to be used again.

Anyway, this post got really away from me! This started as me thinking 'Gee I wish Marvel showed more of his backstory...the emblem of the 58th rescue squadron is LITERALLY an angel with its arms holding the weight of the world and shielding it with its wings. And if that ain't our angel Sam then...'

[pneumaticshift]

so first of all i REALLY love your batlantern fics. i love both bruce and hal's voices so much and think that their interactions are INCREDIBLY funny

second of all i have a request for you! hal gets injured protecting dickbin. (maybe dick snuck into an invasion when he was told to stay behind. maybe he and bruce got separated.) however it happens hal saves his life but gets very injured in the process. dickbin feels guilty about this and hasn't left his bedside since. meanwhile hal going to such lengths for his ward has awoken Feelings ™ in bruce

Heyyy, sorry this took so long. I've been unhealthly playing DC Dark Legion and it's ruining my creativity. I am aware of the problem and have done nothing to fix it. This was surprisingly hard to write. I had so much I wanted to add, but I didn't want to make too long for a Tumblr oneshot. Thank you for the prompt 💚💚 Hope you like it! ———

Dick disobeyed, so now Bruce ran. 

The Watchtower had never felt all that big to him. He designed it specifically to be easily traversable. Function over grandeur, strategy over spectacle. There had been a few choice comments from the others in the Spartan decor, but every hallway had its purpose and every chamber was an answer to a problem that needed to be solved. 

The path from the transport hub to the infirmary was especially built to be the shortest path on the station. It was direct and unbroken, just a simple corridor without indulgence or opportunity for confusion. Bruce had walked it enough times to know exactly how many steps it took to get there. Eighty-three at full stride, seventy-four if he was running. Right now, he was running.

By now, in the aftermath of days on the field, he should have been back at the manor. He should have been in the cave, reviewing all the footage and data extrapolated from the mission so he could cross-reference data, log the variables, and review the structural damage to the cities they’d saved. Every detail, no matter how insignificant, meant that more lives could be saved next time. Because there had been — casualties, that is. Names he didn’t know. Faces he hadn’t seen. Deaths that didn’t belong to him.

And after all that, he should have been dealing with Dick the day he always did. Quiet conversations that never really said what he meant, despite how hard he tried. He would’ve justified himself in a way that left no room for argument, like a guardian was supposed to do when they were protecting their ward. It wasn’t your fight, I needed you in Gotham, it was too dangerous. 

Leaving him behind had been the right thing to do. The mission had outstripped caution in the first ten minutes. An Omega-level threat, with casualties stacking up before the League had even breached the city. Dick may have been forced to grow up far too soon, but he was still just a child. Reckless, brilliant, irreplaceable. Bruce wasn’t about to risk the best thing in his life. 

But now there was blood on the Zeta-pad.

Just a smear. Half-wiped, like someone had tried to clean it up with the toe of their shoe before giving up. It trailed into the corridor, then into nothing. Usually, Bruce wasn’t one to make assumptions. He was far too clever a man to let postulation guide him in any matter, but logic always had its limits, and fear didn’t care about them. Not when his ward — when his son was on the line. 

He hadn’t known that Dick was on the field. He had, perhaps naïvely, thought that Dick would have actually adhered to Bruce’s warnings this time. It was so, so dangerous, and no amount of late nights fighting street-level crime in Gotham could change the fact that he wasn’t ready. 

Word had come over the comms. J’onn and Kal were relaying relevant data from air support while Bruce had been leading the debrief with Diana for the ground team. He had been half-listening, consolidating data absently as background noise. 

It was J’onn who said it. “We intercepted an unidentified minor trying to help. Young, caped. His mind is unusually strong…” he said. “Injuries unknown. I was compelled to transfer him to the infirmary. He was quite distressed—”

That was lal Bruce needed to hear. He cut himself off mid-sentence and immediately turned to literally run to the nearest Zeta-Tube. Diana had called out to him in confusion, but he barely heard her. Though, her confusion probably made sense. He’d been with the League for two years now, and the only thing anyone actually knew about him was his dedication to the cause. To see him leave the aftermath to sort out itself probably would raise questions he’d definitely avoid later. 

Dick was almost thirteen now. He’d been by Bruce’s side for almost four years, had been Robin for three, and even though he was the cleverest, most wonderful tween Bruce had ever known, he was still an entirely unknown entity to the League. Bruce had no intention of changing that. 

Which brought him to the here and now, coming up to the infirmary with his heart in his throat and his pulse rocketing a little too quickly for his tastes. 

The doors hissed open and he didn’t wait. He pushed through before they’d finished parting completely, shoulder-checking the frame on his way in. He barely registered it, fully expecting to see his little boy all laid up. And, incidentally, fully preparing to never forgive himself for letting it happen.

But it didn’t happen. 

Dick was there, certainly, but he wasn’t the invalid Bruce had been half-ready for. Instead, he was slumped forward in a plastiform chair with his elbows resting on his knees and his little head bowed like the weight of the world was keeping him down. He was still in his suit, even though Bruce had locked it up when he left him behind in Gotham. It was torn at the shoulder and streaked with soot.

“Robin,” Bruce called. His voice was lower and far more curt than he intended. He was never good at expressing himself, so the relief fell somewhere behind the tight press of his lips and the furrow of his brow. 

It was hard to catch Dick off guard, but he startled at the noise. His shoulders jumped and he snapped his head up fast enough to make the chair creak. He turned abruptly towards Bruce, half-standing at attention without pulling himself out of his chair, and he looked at him with eyes wide beneath his askew mask. 

His mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out at first. He looked…wrong. Upset, like those first few months in the manor, or the time around the anniversary of the Flying Graysons’ final performance. His cheeks were flushed and blotchy and his nose was half-running like he’d been crying. 

“B,” he said in a broken voice. 

Instead of rushing towards his child with his arms outstretched like he was supposed to, Bruce stood frozen at the door to automatically take in the scene. Relief had flooded him enough to reboot him back to his factory settings, and he was suddenly thinking about how hasty he’d been to get here. 

But even though he should head on back and finish the debrief like he was supposed to, he stayed exactly where he was in a weird purgatory of emotion. 

Dick was curled in on himself like he didn’t know how to proceed. Ash was still smudged across his jaw and there was a thin line of blood beneath his ear. His mouth was trembling slightly, like he was still trying to be brave. He was good at that. Being brave. Better than Bruce had ever been.

That was when Bruce noticed Hal. He probably should’ve noticed him far sooner, given his condition. 

The Lantern lay unconscious on the medical berth. His chest was bandaged up and his face pale under the sicky cast of the overhead lights, but his ring was pulsing faintly. Whatever the medical staff had done to keep him stabilised had nothing on the energy channeling into the weave of healing fields wrapped around him. 

Bruce let himself be concerned for half a second. The monitors were stable and Hal was alive. Not in the best condition Bruce had ever seen him in, but not the worst either. Right now, he had more pressing matters to attend to. 

Dick was as close to the bedside as the chair allowed, which was strange. He’d never been formally introduced to the League. In fact, the only person who actually knew about his existence was Kal, and that was just because the man had pushed his nose into Gotham’s business and Dick was a fan. (A few threats and promises later, and Kal had assured Bruce that he wouldn’t tell anyone — he had, however, tried to convince Bruce to at least tell Diana. Bruce was considering it.)

For as much as he was slowly beginning to trust the League, Hal was the person Bruce had the least rapport with. It was a matter of simple incompatibility and Bruce wasn’t exactly inclined to do anything to remedy it. Some people just didn’t get along, and he couldn’t foresee himself ever doing so with Hal Jordan. 

It didn’t mean he wanted to see the Lantern hurt, but it was undeniably weird that Dick, after all the rants he’d heard when Bruce was particularly pissed off with Hal’s general existence, would set up camp by his bedside. His knees were bumping the frame and one hand hung loosely over the edge, like it had started to reach for Hal at some point and just stopped midway.

Yes, it was weird, but Bruce was always good at connecting the dots. He could see it now in the way Dick wouldn’t look at Hal directly. He just kept glancing over at him, furtive and quiet and just a hint of shame. He could see it in the way his lips pressed together to keep them from trembling and the way his feet hadn’t moved but his leg was bouncing nervously. 

Whatever had happened that made Dick like this, it probably meant that Bruce had to thank Hal. 

Now that he knew Dick was safe, Bruce’s instinctive reaction was to order a report. It would be easier to depersonalise the situation if he framed it like another mission, and Bruce was usually very, very good at separating his complicated personal feelings from the here and now. But, every now and again, very rarely so, Bruce actually knew when not to put The Mission first. 

He let out a slow, grounding breath, and came up beside Dick. “Talk to me,” he said as softly as he could. Which wasn’t very soft at all, but Dick had been with him long enough now to be able to tell the difference. 

“I didn’t—” Dick swallowed hard and curled his fingers into the edge of Hal’s bed. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Are you hurt?”

Dick shook his head. “No. I mean— I’m scuffed, I guess. Elbow. Nothing bad.” His voice was tight. His gaze flicked sideways toward Bruce, then back to Hal, then down at his own boots like he was ashamed of all three. “I shouldn’t have come,” he added, even softer now. “You told me not to, and he— Green Lantern, he—”

“We’ll talk about that,” Bruce said. “Later.” Not a dismissal, not forgiveness. Just…later. He looked back at Hal. “Tell me what happened, chum.”

He never wanted Dick to be nervous around him, but something visibly unfurled around the boy when the term of endearment slipped out. Dick sniffed and went to wipe his eyes. He was still wearing his domino and the mask displaced even more when he tried to rub away the moisture beginning to brim. Bruce couldn’t see the tears, not behind the mask. He knew they were there, though. 

“I thought I could help,” Dick muttered. “I tracked the signal. I saw you were on the ground team, and when the alerts came in, the ones from the orbital relay—” He broke off, shaking his head like the words were too heavy to push out. “I knew it was big. But I thought if I just— if I was careful, then I’d—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. His hand stayed near Hal’s arm, fingers hovering just above the blanket like he didn’t know if he was allowed to hold on.

“I didn’t know he was gonna—” Another pause. Another broken thread of sound. “I didn’t think it’d go that wrong.”

This was a learning experience for him, Bruce thought. He hated that it was one of the first things that came to mind, especially when his kid was looking so vulnerable and when one of his coworkers was unconscious. 

“He saved you,” he said rather than asked. 

Dick nodded and Bruce looked at him a little longer before turning to look at Hal. Really looked at him, for perhaps the first time since they met. He made himself stop calculating vitals and injury ratio, and he stopped parsing the rhythm of the machines for signs of decline of recovery. He hadn’t even realised he had been doing all of that until he forced himself to stop.

Even though he never thought much of Hal, he also knew — had always known — that he would’ve done anything to save a kid. And clearly he had. No ring could fake that level of duty. No construct could fabricate what Bruce saw now in the aftermath: a Lantern lying half-broken, unconscious and quiet for once, because he had chosen to step in when Bruce couldn’t. And the fact that it was his kid, his Dickie…

Oh, that was a problem. Bruce felt something brand new twist hard in his chest. Something with sharp edges and raw heat, something that crawled under his ribs and tried to claw its way out through bone. Gratitude didn’t come easy to him. Guilt did. Both were now crashing into him in silent tandem, buried deep where no one could see. 

There was something a little more too, just the sparks of something even harder to name. Not affection, not exactly, but something annoyingly near it. It felt complicated and raw, tangled up in this image of Hal, broken and still, and Dick sitting beside him like he was the most important person here. 

Bruce acknowledged it, then ignored it. He set it down in the place in his mind where he buried everything else that threatened to make him feel too much, too fast. Later, when Hal woke up, he would thank him properly. Dick would want to, too. Probably as Dick, and not as Robin. That was something to think about later, though. 

“What did the medical staff say?” he asked.

Dick sniffed once and rubbed the heel of his palm against his nose like he used to when he first came to the manor. “They said he stabilised fast,” he replied. “The ring did most of the work before we even got here. They— uh…I had to give them your access code so they’d let me stay. They tried to kick me out ‘cause I don’t have clearance. Um. Sorry…”

Another thing to worry about later, but not Bruce’s immediate concern. He gave Dick his access codes for a reason. Something like this was always going to happen. “They think he’ll wake up soon?”

“Yeah…’cause the ring, and all.” Dick shifted in the chair, arms pulled in tight to his chest, like he was trying to make himself smaller. “Can I stay, B? Just for a little while?”

It was against protocol, Bruce thought, but…well…

“Move over,” Bruce said. Dick blinked for a moment, then scrambled out of the chair like he was responding to an order on the field. He hovered for a second, uncertain, until Bruce sat down in his place. The kid didn’t need another invitation. 

He climbed into Bruce's lap like he had a hundred times before — back when he was smaller, younger, and it was less embarrassing for a kid to seek comfort. Back when his limbs didn’t dangle awkwardly over the sides, when he could curl up tight and disappear into the fold of the cape like it was a hidey-hole.

Lately, he'd been pulling away from those kinds of childish interactions as best he could. He was coming up on his teen years. Trying to be taller than he was. Braver. Older. He didn’t lean on Bruce the way he used to. Not in public, at least. Not even at home unless he was half-asleep or had forgotten he wasn’t supposed to need it anymore.

Now, he pulled the cape around himself, tucked his head beneath Bruce’s chin, and sighed out one long, shaky breath. 

Bruce didn’t know how long they sat there, but it was long enough for the ring to finish its preliminaries. He had sent a message to Alfred at some point, brief but clear: We’re safe. I’ll explain soon. He knew the old man would read between the lines, hear everything that wasn’t written.

He had also dropped a locked ping on the League comms, redirecting anyone trying to enter the infirmary. No visitors. Not right now. Which was probably a dick move.

Oliver and Barry would’ve come by. Maybe even some of the other Lanterns, if they managed to get wind of what happened. Hal had friends. People who gave a damn. People better than Bruce who would want to see him and make sure he was still breathing.

But Bruce didn’t want anyone else in this room, not while Dick was still sleeping and not while Bruce was still figuring out what he was supposed to do when Hal woke up. 

And he did eventually wake up. The combination of the ring’s healing propities, coupled with the medical staff’s expertise meant that injuries of this nature didn’t keep a man down for long. Bruce was also half-certain that the ring was starting to affect Hal’s actual nervous system, so he always healed a little quicker than most. 

The infirmary lights had dimmed into their night cycle at some point, so Bruce didn’t catch the exact moment Hal woke up. One second, the room was still. The next, he caught movement — barely a twitch from the bed, then a sharp intake of breath.

“Goddamn,” Hal muttered from the bed. “Either I died and you're here to collect, or this is some kind of fever dream.”

“Lantern,” Bruce greeted. “Stay down.”

“Screw that, I’m fine.” 

Hal immediately tried to sit up, because he was one of the most stubborn bastards Bruce had ever met. The attempt lasted all of two seconds before he winced hard and flopped back down like the bed had sucker punched him .Bruce didn’t move to stop him.

Partly because he knew Hal was too stubborn to listen anyway, but mostly because Dick was still bundled under the cape, tucked close to Bruce’s chest, dead asleep. The kid didn’t even stir at the commotion. He just mumbled something unintelligible and curled in tighter, frowning slightly in his sleep.

Hal caught the movement and froze.

“Batman…what are you doing under your cape right now?”

Bruce gave him the flattest look. Without a word, he lifted the edge of the cape.

“Oh my god,” Hal breathed. Dick was out cold, his cheek pressed against Bruce’s chest, one hand still clinging loosely to the edge of the cape like he thought someone might try to take it from him. “Nobody’s ever gonna believe me.”

Huffing out something that may have resembled a laugh if Hal looked too deep into it, Bruce let the cape drop and readjusted his grip around his son. 

“Robin,” Bruce said simply. 

“...I’m gonna assume that’s his name and not just you being all cryptic and weird.” Hal flopped his head back on the pillow and glared at Bruce. “That your kid?”

“Hm.”

“The hell was he doing in the field, Batman?” 

Bruce didn’t respond to that. He didn’t owe Hal anything. Or, maybe he did. After what happened, after what Hal had done without even knowing who he was protecting, maybe Bruce did owe him a few answers. Maybe more than a few. But Bruce was still Bruce, and words, real ones, always failed him when they didn’t involve strategy, contingencies, or command.

Hal let out a soft breath that turned into a wince. “My bad. Should’ve known you were too much of a douche to actually willingly give out information,” he said. It was an out Bruce was going to take. “He alright?”

“He will be.”

And Hal, flat on his back with half his ribs taped together and a ring flickering dimly at his side, managed a crooked smile. “Good,” he said. “’Cause I don’t think I’ve got another one of those in me.”

“He—” Bruce paused and Hal glanced at him again. “He wanted to wait for you to wake up.”

Hal blinked. Then he looked down, toward the edge of the cape still drawn over Bruce’s front, where the faint rise and fall of breath gave away the shape of a small form nestled beneath. He couldn’t see Dick from his angle, just the dark ripple of fabric and the way Bruce’s arm curled almost imperceptibly around something fragile.

So instead, Hal watched Bruce. And that, Bruce realized, was strange. People didn’t watch him like that. Not when he was still. Not when he wasn’t speaking. They watched for his movements, for orders, for the turn of his head that meant something was about to happen, But Hal looked at him now like he was trying to figure him out.

Bruce didn’t shift under it. Didn’t avert his gaze or curl the cape tighter around him like he wanted to. He simply let the moment stretch between them, unspoken and unguarded, which was even stranger. It was almost disarming.

Then, Hal snorted. “Of course he did. I’m the Green Lantern,” he said. “Kid’s got taste.”

The expected thing to do now would be to engage in conversation. He was supposed to thank Hal, promise to treat him better in the future, and acknowledge that his opinion on him had recently gone up more than Bruce was strictly comfortable with. 

It would’ve been easy to stay. Just another hour. Just until Hal drifted off again. But Dick needed real rest in a real bed. He wouldn’t get that in the Watchtower, no matter how long he clung to Bruce’s side.

So Bruce figured he’d overstayed his welcome. Slowly, he gathered the boy closer and stood, the cape keeping Dick cocooned in shadow and warmth. Dick barely stirred, just buried his face instinctively against Bruce’s chest with a small sound of protest before settling again.

He could feel Hal watching him. “Bring him by again sometime,” he said, voice softer now. “Maybe when I’m not half-dead.”

Bruce paused at the door, glanced back. No real promises and no answer. Just a quiet nod. And then he was gone, with a whole new problem brewing in his chest. 

[cosmicellis]

Prism among the storm AU

Rosen's "pink" state. Yet, there is a twist! His mother was not Rose quartz and not even Pink diamond. She was a replica of Pink. A counterfeit if you will.

How's that happened?

The recources on Homeworld were getting low, new planets didn't produced enough good soldiers (Too many off colours or undercooked gems), times were pretty tough.

Yellow decided to try and make gems in the lab, synthetically and compare what would be more efficient. or even maybe combine the two.

But it turned into disaster. Once gems were done, it was found that: not only they get random gems as result, they have only portion of their powers. And they do turns out to be replicas of existing gems. One of them was a copy of Pink. A countrfeit had same facet and cut, including manerisms and characteristincs. but the powers were cut slightly and visual form had some differences, like white hair.

Feeling ashamed and horryfied by copying fellow diamond, Yellow ordered to destroy every synthetic gem and grind the shards into dust - never to be reused.

Replica escaped.

Earth

She arrived on it, disguising as a Rose quartz, the first soldier she saw when teleporting on surface.

Feeling sompletely betrayed by Yellow and not understanding what was her fault - her spite grown. She wanted to rebel. And so she did, convincing Pink diamond's Pearl to fight for freedom.

She was planning to shatter Pink diamond to take her place. To be real her.

No one knew her secret.

Shattering

Once the did was done and Pink was lured into a perfect trap - the course was clear. Yet Replica hesitated. Her friends and comrades loved Rose quartz warrior that she made up. Not tyranical diamond. She didn't had a heart to abandon her life like this to become what she always wanted.

So she kept her secret from EVERYONE

Truth

The way it was discovered that Rosen's gem is a replica - is by Bissy's observation. He had sealed away Pink and saw the gam many times. So when he had an opportunity to face Rosen and see his gem - he noticead very small differences in hue and mineral deposits (Blah blah blah, nerd rock words)

So he found out via his nother's notes that in their timeline there were synthetic gems and there were tell tell sign to distinguish them. And it was a match

He had to explain that to Rosen. Which he wasn't surprised that "being something you not" is in his gem

[temis-de-leon]

The brothers reunite with Trans!MC - Part 1

Main Masterlist

Anon request: How do you think the Obey Me brothers would react to a trans (AFAB) reader? Like they spent their given amount of time in the Devildom, went back to the human world for a long enough time to get both top surgery and a hysterectomy (so at least a couple years), maybe some testosterone too if they wanted it. Then when the time comes to go back to the Devildom, the brothers almost wonder if they got the right human! And yet the human's pacts, personality, and verbal recounts are too detailed + specific to be fabricated - they did get the correct person, even though they look quite different now

A/N: there are two parts for this request because the introduction alone is 600 words, but don't worry because I'm writing the second part right now. I could've made this an only part, but I didn't want it to be super long <33

Also, please tell me if I'm incorrect regarding the trans experience in any part of this. I'll gladly correct it.

.

You would think time is a different concept to immortal beings like them. They’ve been alive for thousands of years, so what’s a couple more in comparison? What feels like an eternity for you probably translates to the blink of an eye in their standards. However, what no one expected was how desperately they’d need you once you went back home.

It started with the constant chatting and their messages keeping your fingers glued to your DDD for almost an entire week since your departure. Of course, it became a problem when you couldn’t even get dressed without them demanding your attention and immediate response, so it quickly changed to phone calls.

As a result, less than a couple of months later, while you worked to adapt once more to your mundane human life, hearing you talk with your mysterious friends on the speaker became the new normal for everyone around you.

They organised themselves to not overwhelm you, assigning turns to each other so everyone could have equal opportunities to keep in touch with you. As expected, not all of them respected their brothers’ time with you, but that’s something you would only know thanks to your access to their private chats.

And as you can imagine, they entertain you quite a lot.

One day they’re detailing a normal day at RAD and the next they’re explaining why Lucifer hanged the six of them and even Lord Diavolo for most of the weekend.

It’s not like they’re looking for trouble, but they still manage to find it.

And you can bet all your money they will be telling you all about it.

You’re thankful, though.

Somehow, although not that surprisingly, their stories become a great source of comfort once you’re alone during your hospital stay or while in bed, letting your body recover. Their nonsense gives you a strange sense of normalcy that keeps everything around you simpler and easier to process.

Your body might’ve changed, but some things will always stay the same.

The most difficult part of all is lying to the brothers about why you’re at the hospital.

It isn’t like you actively want to keep them in the dark. After all, they’re your friends, the ones who love you and would accept you no matter your appearance, but they do have a tendency to carry everything to an extreme and you seriously doubt they’d change that in a matter of seconds.

However, days turn to weeks and months and, although you physically get better, you still keep it a secret from the brothers. Is it the guilt? You’re not sure. It eats you alive and you berate yourself daily for hiding something so important from people who adore you so much, yet you’re unable to confess.

It all comes to an end when you suddenly bump into Solomon in the middle of the street.

Which is actually… kind of weird?

Despite being the one physically closest to you, you’ve barely seen the sorcerer since you both left the Devildom a couple of years ago. Normally, he’s too occupied to respond to your check-up messages right away, let alone hang out with you, so the sight of him leaves you dumbfounded.

Funnily enough, the sight of you also leaves him dumbfounded.

You both stare at each other for more than a couple of seconds while your brains process the situation.

And before you can realise what’s happening, you’re falling.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @mia4gotcookiez

[roi-des-aulnes]

OK, a little disorganised rant below but I had to get it out of my system :

I hated season 4. We had to suffer a whole year of messy plot lines, the characters pulled in too many directions and still doing fuck all because they keep having the same sentimental (and sometimes, frankly corny) conversation over and over again. And the side characters were disappointing. I saw the positive reactions to the Butcher, Noel and Oscar, and I understand. It was refreshing to have other human beings that were going to be more fleshed out than #Dead Body n°3 or # Mad Old Woman n°273849. But that didn't really happen in the end. The butcher felt like a caricature of a villain in a CW tv show, and don't get me started on his "redemption". The finale episodes were just. Bad. I was audibly sighing with annoyance during the big fight between John and Yellow which was way too cliché. The big Larson machine thing went nowhere, and I feel like the Kayne scene was just a lazy solution for getting rid of all the loose ends all at once because HG felt stuck at that point and didn't know how to end the arc.

Anyway. All of this just to say, I felt like season 5 was a good opportunity to shake things up by changing the setting, giving Jarthur completely new challenges, maybe it would let them explore that new aspect of their relationship they talked about in the first episode, idk. Instead we got a John recap episode, whatever the fuck Malam was, the useless Horig disease, the Agatha Christie medieval plot ... when Everard introduced Alia, Antoine and Vale, i remember thinking "why are we losing time on this, they'll most likely be dead and discarded soon".

What's worse is that it's getting more and more difficult to remember that John is more than a disembodied voice narrating whatever is happening. Occasionally he says "yes Arthur !" or "careful Arthur" but that's about it. OK then. I thought he wanted to stop feeling like a voice trapped in another man's body. Didn't they discuss it at length before ?

Oh and I don't care about Lillith. I've tried, but maybe it would have been easier to make her more interesting if her and Scratch were different characters? Idk. They beat Scratch once they can do it again + Arthur Just Doesn't Die so why should we care ? As far as I can see she's not a threat, just a nuisance.

And I'm not even gonna talk about the Faroe thing but that's yet another one of my main problems with this podcast lately. Basically, throughout the show I went from "aww no poor him he has a dead daughter :(" to "oh of course he's still grieving" and eventually to "OK can he maybe let her die for real actually ? Instead of waving her dead body around every time Arthur is inconvenienced so he can cry about it?"

What's maddening to me is that there is still potential. The sound design is great, I loved the eerie music in the forest episode. And I can see that HG has ideas, or pieces of ideas at least. There are characters that you want to get invested into. But I feel that the main character is getting less and less compatible with them, and so most of those ideas end up botched and lesser versions of what could have been.

[ssentimentals]

so... hi its been some time i was hoping to request prompt number 5 with charlos like yk carlos getting amnesia and entering the ferrari garge/hosptality and charles bumping into him and cs55 having no idea why he shouldnt b there and something like that also could u add a lil bit of fred to ... like yk somthing like him feeling guilty of breaking this duo or yabadaba

hi sweets! hope you're doing good! of course you can request, thank you for doing so! <3

prompt: 'amnesia'

charles leclerc x carlos sainz

it's thursday and paddock buzzes with life. carlos tries to quickly get to the williams hospitality, not sparing people clad in bright red a glance. no more red, no more 'forza ferrari' shouted at him, no more 'morning, carlos' said in a french accent with a slight lisp, no more casual brush of the shoulders-

'take this!' someone shouts and before carlos can react, some bracelet with red string is thrusted into his hand violently. 'wear it!' woman shouts at him, her eyes boring into his soul. for a second, he stands frozen, stupefied by the intensity of her gaze - it's like she knows exactly what he's thinking. 'we miss you,' she says and only now carlos notices that she's in a ferrari kit. 'we miss you so much.'

'uh, thank you.'

being nice to the fans is the least he can do, so he obidiently wears the bracelet, resuming his walk. it tingles slightly but he pays it no mind, just like he tries not to think of 'we miss you' thrown at him. he plays for another team now, but god, his stubborn heart wants to know, wants to get deep inside in il predestinato's brain and check - do you miss me? do you miss me the way i miss you? do you also feel hollow not having me by your side?

'carlos, there you are!' james greets him with a big smile. 'ready?'

navy t-shirt. james vowles, not fred. alex, not charles. carlos plasters fake smile and nods. the bracelet tingles again. 'sure.'

friday

everyone is giving him weird looks. carlos is used to people looking at him, but usually there's appreciation, wonder or lust in their eyes, not... whatever it is. he frowns. this whole day started weirdly, he's pretty sure someone pulled a prank on him - he couldn't find his usual ferrari polo anywhere and only had williams blue t-shirts inside his suitcase. he never thought of albon as of a prankster; he'll get back to him next time. with no ferrari polo around he chose simple white t-shirt and blue jeans, entering ferrari's hospitality with an easy smile. the welcome from all the staff was weird too - instead of usual hugs and pats on the back or at least a fist bump, he got raised eyebrows and several 'you okay, mate?' questions. by the time he finds charles next to the coffee machine, carlos is pretty sure that he's going crazy.

'charlie,' he calls, frowning. as usual, he reaches out for his teammate, carefully slotting his hand on his lower back. 'are-'

'carlos?'

charles sounds... surprised. maybe even shocked. he looks at carlos like he didn't expect to see him here, which is ridicilous because where else carlos might be before the free practice? charles's eyes search his face for something before he blurts out shocked: 'you're here for me?'

carlos blinks. now, this is an interesting question. he's here because this is ferrari's hospitality and he drives for ferrari. but is he here for charles? yes. he's always here for charles even if he doesn't want to admit it. his heart is always here for charles and charles only. 'yes,' he ends up answering because it's the truth.

what he doesn't expect is the hug. charles is usually affectionate but more with pats on the back or shoulder squeeze gestures, never with the hugs. this hug is different from the ones they had before though; this hug is too tight, mixed with relief and desperation. carlos hugs him back automatically, presses their bodies closer together, lets charles bury his nose in his neck. it's surprising but carlos is not about to pass up the opportunity to have charles like this; he hugs him back tighter. 'you okay?' he asks quietly, concerned. 'charles. are you okay?'

'i am now,' he mutters, not letting him go. 'i missed you.'

carlos is not sure whether he needs to point out that they saw each other yesterday. instead he slowly starts to pull away his hands, leaning back to take a good look at his teammate. charles's eyes are full of sincerity and it knocks the breath out of carlos's lungs. charles missed him. for real. 'charles, i-'

'carlos? what are you doing here?' fred appears behind charles, no doubt catching their hug. he looks between them with a frown but then he turns to carlos, smiling. 'coming in to check strategies of your ex-team? i hope charles here is keeping his mouth shut, huh.'

carlos freezes. ex-team? before he can reply though, charles bristles: 'he's not here for that. he came to me,' he lets out, sounding defensive.

carlos doesn't dare to breathe. what is happening? they wouldn't all pull a prank on him like that. 'why ex-team?' he lets out, confused.

fred and charles both look up at this. charles mirrors his confused expression, but fred only shakes his head, chuckling sadly. 'sorry, carlos. i didn't mean to- of course we are your team. we will always be your team. it doesn't matter whether you're in williams or not.'

the world tips and starts spinning. carlos thinks he's about to fall but charles holds him firmly by his wrists, keeping him grounded. carlos can't think of anything else, can't focus on anything but on charles - beautiful, beautiful charles, who is his...ex-teammate? how is that possible?

fred thinks his heart won't take it. he knew that charles and carlos were close, knew that he's breaking what probably is one of the best pairings in f1, but it had to be made. but to witness with his own eyes how charles and carlos look at each other, to stand next to them and feel this incredible yearning from both sides is horrible. fred turns and walks away the moment charles reaches out and hugs carlos again. he saw enough to wish he could turn back time, but sadly world doesn't work this way.

a/: chales dnf in the race when carlos scores his first points... i- i have no words. anyways, enjoy some charlos, left the ending open intentionally, hopefully you'll like it! - nini

request your own here

my other formula 1 works are here

[sourplumtext]

A Guilted Hunger (Pt. 1)

Synopsis: Sylus buys you at an auction thinking things will be the same as before. You don't remember your past life with him.

Prologue

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

You were unconscious when they brought him to your cell. The stark contrast between you and what was usually kept in these cages was clear.

The reinforced bars and chains and the like, were all meant to restrain things like exotic cats or what some claimed to be "house" Wanderers. For those particular items, there would need to be some precaution taken in case they were to lash out on their handlers.

While you were in display, you were so docile. He imagined you would allow anyone to do whatever they wanted to you in that state. A handler would have come out to make a show out of you up there if he hadn't stepped in. He had to unclench his jaw.

And it didn't help that you were now laying on the floor, not from exhaustion, but because whoever decided to put you here also took the opportunity to make sure you wouldn't have a chance to flee. You had no reaction when he entered your cell, nor when he approached your curled up figure on the ground. You didn't even flinch when he knelt down and reached over, his hand brushing the back of your neck. Whatever was in your system must have reached its peak.

"Wake up," he said, knowing it wouldn't get an answer.

"Boss.. her file says-"

"I know." It said you were part Wanderer, though this was false. It was impossible for someone to be "part" Wanderer. He could sense the protocore that was fused into your heart, but that alone didn't make you a Wanderer.

He thought that maybe this was carried over from your past life. Back then, a sorceress. In this life, a Wanderer. Was this just how you were destined to meet each other? When you're ostracized from your original "tribe"?

"Take her home," he said as he stepped out of the cell. "Keep her in the guest room for now. If she wakes up, do whatever she asks. Otherwise, don't disturb her."

The twins looked at each other before back at him. "What about you?"

"I'd like to have a word with the original seller."

•••

You awoke in a cold room laying between a duvet and silk sheets. You could hear a fireplace crackling somewhere in the room as well as the deep bellow of a draft coming through the... house? Slowly, you made yourself sit up and take in your surroundings.

The furniture was dark and maybe too overindulgent. From the ornate drapery at the windows and the tufted accent chairs closer to the fireplace, you could only guess you were locked within some vampire's lair.

There was a crow on a perch nearby as well. You slipped out of the bed and approached it. What an odd thing to have taxidermied. When it moved its head to the side, you jumped, yelping when it flapped its wings in response to you.

"You're awake," a voice said from the darkness. Your head whipped around to see two men wearing crow masks at the door. You backed away from them and the crow, gravitating towards the safety of the bed again. The two men continued to enter the bedroom.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" the other man said.

You shook your head. Had you been indicted into a cult or something?

"If you need anything, just tell us. Boss'll be back soon, so just hold on tight." And then they left.

The crow made a low noise as it tapped it's beak on the perch it stood on. You glanced at it before cautiously moving further away, getting a strange feeling that it was watching you.

You took the time you had to search through the room. Through the various drawers and bookshelves, you tried to find any clue as to who you were going to have to face. Ultimately, there were no leads to follow. All of the books were about music - theory, history, composition. Was this a vampire or a musician that you were going to meet?

You looked at the crow again. It made a small chirping noise as it kept watching you. Should you chance it to look at another room? It's not like the men said you couldn't-

"You're lively."

You jumped, turning your whole body to face the door you were about to exit through. You had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze and even then, you had trouble forming a coherant though, "Y...You're... the Boss?"

"My name is Sylus." He stepped further into the room, making you retreat once again. "The twins call me that, but I'm more like... their sponsor." He took a seat, keeping his eyes on you as he collected his thoughts. He didn't tell you to sit, so you didn't. "The protocore in your heart. Is that the reason you were at the auction today?"

You couldn't find a reasonable answer. In truth, you didn't know how you got to the auction. But for some reason, that wasn't something you wanted to disclose. You were hesitant to tell him anything.

He crossed his legs and rested his head against his hand. "Does it cause you any discomfort?"

"..."

"I want to remove it."

"What for?"

"Ah- she speaks."

You frowned. "Is it because-"

"I don't care for the protocore itself, if that's what you're going to ask. There are plenty of those that go around. I simply intend to... tend to your ailment."

"..."

"Do you have an objection?"

"What was your reason for... bidding on me?"

He scoffed a bit at the question, and simply left it unanswered. "The twins' names are Luke and Kiernan." He stood from his chair. "You'll come to understand the differences between them. They'll prepare your meals and have them ready in the dining room. If not, eat where you please-"

"I'm not hungry."

Sylus' lips curled into a small smile as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "You may come and go as you please, but considering your situation it would be best to stay here. And if not, take one of the twins. I can't guarantee you won't be taken to another auction if you go alone."

"After the protocore is gone..."

He smiled at your line of thinking. "Undecided." He took a step towards the door. "Eat. I'm not going to poison you."

"But your purpose for buying me..."

"Do I need a reason to keep a pet?" Slowly, he turned his body halfway to face you. "Usually, humans sold in the N109 zone are used for activities of a sexual nature, though that doesn't interest me so much."

"Are you saying I should be grateful?"

"I'm saying that... If you really believe I bought you for sex, then I'm afraid you'll have to do a little better, Kitten." Sylus headed toward the door again. "I like a little meat on the bones."

[nolonger100daysoftavvyfanart]

live new update thoughts

Is that some kind of rift? The last scene implies this is something John was looking at

This pumpkin which is actually a cake flashes across the screen... Obviously this is a "What Pumpkin?" bit. But why?

Iirc Pumpkins are void aspect related, so maybe this shows how Roxy (and Callilope) have cut open the candy (cake) timeline? This is also backed up by the icing being pink, Roxy's associated colour.

It could also be foreshadowing some kind of deception?

I thought it was getting wider but it might actually just be getting brighter here

*now* it's getting wider. Maybe this is how to get out of the black hole?

I didn't see the table and chair when I first watched this gif. This feels like one of those times where the symbolism will seem obvious in retrospect.

Well that's clearly June Egbert. It's interesting that she has mom Lalonde vibes.

So maybe John is seeing the future? I want to go back to the original and check if it's paralleling Jade looking into the clouds of Prospit but the comic is still dead.

Interestingly, I'm now getting an entirely different error from the page, which is a sign they're trying to fix it.

The ball was a bit like that photo of a black hole, so maybe this is the black hole blowing up?

And the hole turns into Vriska's smile. Since they were talking about using her to escape, maybe they've managed it?

And now, to look at things which aren't the same gif for like 10 minutes

Maybe that last bit was a dream, then?

Maybe this symbolically represents that the game isn't over anymore, as well as looking cool.

ooh, long image up now

For a moment I thought this was the ass of the giga-goon

is she pissed because of the glowing naked guy or because she didn't see the missile

I guess that's the end of nakey jakey

"Don't Worry Dear You May Have Missed Out This Time But I'm Sure You'll Get Plenty Of Opportunities To Get Brutally Maimed In An Armed Conflict."

Oh, so she *is* alive as a head now. That's got potential, but it does beg the question "is anyone ever going to actually die when they are killed in this comic".

JANE: BZZT!

JANE: Mrrnghhh!!!

ROXY: stop shocking her!

OH it's the shock collar again. I thought she was just making bzzt sounds.

VRISKA: So, I've actually 8een trying to get to that!

VRISKA: In case anyone feels like listening!

TAVVY: (I've been trying,)

(reactbot voice) "the goat"

Holy smokes, options! And they have the brackets too. Maybe this is how they cut down the cast to a manageable number, by having a bunch stay behind and only show up in bonus material and intermissions. I think I'll go with (YOU ARE NOT) first, it'll probably be shorter

It's interesting how (YOU ARE NOT) seems to reflect the Candy timeline in how it's full of assholes arguing about relationships.

JANE: YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!

JANE: THEY'RE GONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just like that? Might as well get it over with.

YIFFY: FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, she *can* speak. It's interesting her first words in the comic are the same as the Sufferer's last.

JOHN: well, that settles it.

JOHN: we have to kill dirk.

Worrying how happy he is about that. Maybe John is going to be an antagonist?

Now, to go back in time.

YOU ARE COMING

OHH it's the kids perspective. I thought them leaving felt abrupt, but this is going to smooth that out.

the "what will you do" recontextualizes the original choice about coming or not as being directed at Tavvy... It's interesting that it's the same wording as there was in the plot point for Vriska. The "YOU ARE COMING" also has "I AM ALREADY HERE" vibes.

There was some speculation from Chivemile about something something manifestation theory something something Vriska Tavvy.

I don't remember exactly what it was about right now, but what with Mr. Foods bringing up manifestation theory in the past too... the ground that idea is standing on is getting more and more solid.

DAMN! This is probably another thing from the animes. I'll have to ask a more animeducated colleague about it.

very visually reminiscent of the Jane birthday Scene...

John even looks happy from here. Just raring to go decapitate that one guy yet again. But I guess this means we haven't seen the last of all these guys...

I guess that's Act 1! time to get those report cards done...

[experimentalfma]

Ed wanted to teach him Amestrian? Alfons glanced down at the incomprehensible text scribbled across the page. There was so much written in this language he knew nothing about, not even how it sounded or was pronounced. There was no way that he'd be able to understand something presumably written in significant depth if the language was one more thing that he'd be learning from scratch, but if he took the time to try, it offered the opportunity to unlock a new form of knowledge that would be otherwise inaccessible. That alone piqued his interest. Though his smile was a bit quizzical as he wondered the practicality of it, curiosity won out, and he nodded. "Let's start with what you were already going to show me tonight, but maybe we can try once I have a better idea of what I'm looking at."

But at least Ed seemed to have some understanding that what he was saying sounded so difficult to believe. There wouldn't be any misunderstanding that Alfons was still skeptical. Misinterpreting that could lead to some conflict later on, but that he was still willing to try seemed to be an acceptable middle ground between the two of them.

Though there was still that lingering topic of the war, a topic they rarely addressed. But Ed was right that it felt like everything was crumbling down around them, and it had for some time. And things weren't getting any better. It wasn't a topic he was eager to broach, but it wasn't something they could ignore. He did care deeply about his homeland and hoped that his work on the rocket could help to advance science, but he didn't want to be involved in the war and didn't want his work to be either, so he would have understood Ed's anxiety over being dragged into it. Though of course he didn't have the context that Ed had already been involved in his own military before coming here.

But that could be the focus of another conversation. Right now, they needed to focus on the arrays. He stared at the one he'd pointed to as Ed explained what it did and how it worked, but no matter how intently he looked at it, the system was still a complete mystery to him. He traced the line Ed had directed his attention to with his finger, as if that would make it clearer. "So if you change this, the figure would become something else?"

He stared down at it intently for a moment longer then raised his eyes up to meet Ed's, brow slightly furrowed as he tried to make sense of it. "So what's the catalyst? Do you put his paper on top of and that somehow directs the energy from something else? There has to be something else that initiates the reaction."

Alfons' words encouraged him. It helped to know his friend didn't mind helping him out. That was the most important part. Ed didn't want Alfons to feel he was wasting his time with this. "I really appreciate the help, and the time you're willing to give this. I know you're busy with your own work." And Ed intended to be mindful of that. He wouldn't ask Alfons to give too much of his time but spread it out to something more reasonable.

Ed nodded. "Sounds good to me. I think it's best if we start with the basics. I can show you some arrays and what they're used for." He pushed some of them until he had them arranged the way he wanted. It would be hard to give Alfons a crash course in alchemy considering how many years he had dedicated himself to the study of it. But he would do his best to explain everything as clearly as possible. They would need to start off slow, and he would need to give Alfons time to ask questions. Ed was certain he would have a lot of them by the end of tonight.

It helped that Alfons had a good grasp of science as a whole. Alchemy was its own type of science, but it did follow some similar rules and principals. He just needed to get his thoughts in order and figure out the best way to dive into all of this without leaving too many questions unanswered. Ed waited for them to both get settled in. He wanted to make sure Alfons was ready to do this while giving his friend time to take all of this in. It would look daunting to someone who didn't understand the words or arrays on the pages.

He smiled when Alfons uttered the word Amestrian. "I would offer to teach it to you, but that would probably take more time than we have. So it seems better to translate it for you, though if you're interested, I could teach it to you." It would be nice to have someone else in this world who knew how to speak his language. Ed had a real learning curve picking up the language in this world. Fortunately, he was able to learn it faster than he had anticipated.

"Thanks for trying at least. I know how it must sound to you, and how unreal it seems. If someone had come to my world and told me they were from another world, I would've had a hard time believing them too, but here I am, far away from a place I called home, starting from scratch to make it in a world that frankly feels like it's falling a part right now." They didn't talk much about the war, and it wasn't as if there hadn't been wars in his world. But this was something different. The whole world seemed like it was at war here.

Ed didn't want to stick around for any longer than he had to. Not with the ways things were going here. Not with his brother so far away from him. Despite how much he had come to care for Alfons, Ed knew he didn't belong here. And the last thing he wanted was to get pulled into a war as a soldier. That had been one of his biggest fears since he came here and figured out what was going on. But he kept those thoughts to himself. Somehow Ed knew that saying those things would only hurt Alfons.

He watched as Alfons looked over the arrays he had laid out. Ed could see the curiosity in Alfons' eyes over them. Good. He wanted Alfons to be curious about it. It would make their research go more smoothly. Ed grinned when Alfons pointed to one of them. That was an easy enough array to explain, a good starting point. "This one creates a basic figure out of dirt or clay." He turned the paper a bit. "See how these lines intersect with the circle. They're responsible for what form you want to make. If you change the line here just a bit, it will make something different."

This was going to be the hard part. Explaining these things without being able to show Alfons the final product. It would have been so much easier to explain if he could show Alfons exactly how alchemy worked, but since he couldn't he would have to settle for explaining it the best he could. "As it is, it would create a small dragon figurine. It was one of the first things I learned to make from alchemy when I was a kid."

[bluektw]

Another day another CK idea

Do we think Kreese taught the new Cobra Kai the weakness lesson from S4E7? You know, the "spot your enemies weakness" thing.

Do we think that if he did, Tory who already knew, would be able to find out Zara and Axel's weaknesses to help CK? Do we think she helped Kwon and Yoon see those patterns too?

Do we think since Robby knows this lesson too, does he use this against Kwon and Axel? Did he teach that to the rest of MD?

And do we think Silver, who co-taught the lesson, taught/will teach that to Iron Dragons?

[templeofvengeance]

Okay if you're the god of time why is it a Loki variant controlling the time tree?

"Because that is what needed to be done." Perhaps he should feel a sense of embarrassment, allowing a power grab from an Asgardian, much less that particular Asgardian, ascending him to a level of real godhood. But Khonshu felt no shame in this sacrifice.

"You forget-- or were unaware, little worm, that before him, there was another who claimed the threads of time, clamping them in a chokehold. I saw an opportunity to wrest away his hands, so time may flow freely again."

He was a time god. It was always a position he shared, even within his own pantheon. He could tolerate sharing it with that one, the God of Stories.

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2023

Day 26 - Last

Rael and A'viloh had just returned to the Waking Sands from their first shared mission for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and left the Solar after speaking to Minfilia, when they had an unexpected encounter.

Rael wanted to stock up on a few things and A'viloh decided to accompany them down to the common room when suddenly a voice called out for him from the other side of the room.

"A'viloh?", a Miqo'te stepped towards him and eyed A'vi incredulously. "I can’t believe it’s you! I heard the Scions talk about a recruit with your name but couldn’t imagine it would really be you!"

The man caught A'viloh off guard. He looked a good bit older than A'vi, had dark hair and wore an eyepatch over his left eye. A'viloh was sure that he had never seen him before in his whole life, so the fact that the man seemed to know him was pretty confusing.

"I’m sorry.", he said shyly. "Do we know each other?"

The man laughed at A'viloh’s reaction. "No, I am sorry! Of course you don’t remember me. When we left for Gridania you were only a few months old…"

A'viloh‘s thoughts were racing but he still hadn’t managed to connect the dots, so he just stared at him quizzically.

"Sorry, sorry…", the man laughed. "Let me explain. My name is A'aba. I‘m from the Antelope-Tribe from the South Shroud. You know you were born there, don’t you?"

A'viloh nodded slowly. "I know but I can’t remember anything of the place... Wait, this means you knew my parents?"

"Knew your parents?", he repeated with a chuckle. "Your father, A'vanoh, he's my uncle."

"Your uncle?… then you are my cousin??", A'vi asked in surprise.

"Yes! I recognised you immediately. You look exactly like your mother! Just like Tehmi!"

This confused A'viloh. He certainly did remember that his mother had long red hair and green eyes just like him but her name hadn’t been Tehmi. "My mother’s name was A‘tahja.", he retorted with furrowed brows

"Yes.“" A'aba nodded not seeing the contradiction.

"But then who‘s Tehmi?", A'vi asked.

Now it was A'aba‘s turn to look surprised. "You don’t know about her? I can’t believe your parents never mentioned her."

A'viloh shook his head.

"My father was an adventurer and worked in Gridania a lot. He took her and me to the city for training when we were thirteen years old, shortly after you were born, so it makes sense that you can’t remember A'tehmi.", A'aba explained. "But I thought your parents would have told you that you have an older sister."

A'viloh gasped. "A sister??" He felt like a chocobo had kicked him in the guts. "A living older sister?"

He needed to sit down. He remembered that he had an older brother and a younger sister but both of them had died the day their parents and the others had been murdered.

"I can’t promise she‘s still alive but the last time I saw her she was fine. After Carteneau we went separate ways, I decided to join the Scions but she wanted to see the world. So she took a ship to Old Sharlayan instead."

"Old Sharlayan…", A'viloh repeated absentmindedly, still processing the information that he may still have a sister.

"But how did you end up here, A'viloh. When we heard that the tribe had split up and left the Shroud we went looking for your parents but you were long gone. We found a small group of remnants from our tribe in La Noscea but they told us that your parents had left the Shroud towards the South, towards Thanalan. However we couldn’t find any trace of them there…"

A'viloh nodded. "I think we lived in Wellwick Wood for a while but then moved further to the South."

"To Southern Thanalan? We never expected you would have traveled so far! Why would you? There’s nothing out there but sand. Maybe we gave up too soon…", A'aba explained.

A'viloh shook his head. "I don’t know for sure what father hoped to find there. Maybe he had tried to reach the sea or go to Ul'dah and got lost on the way. We should probably have stayed at Wellwick Wood."

"Maybe we would have found you then but on the other hand the Calamity would probably have killed you there…", A'aba pondered.

A'viloh sighed deeply and looked to the ground. "They didn’t live to see the Calamity. We were attacked by Amalj'aa in Southern Thanalan. I’m the only one who survived…"

"Oh!", A'aba exclaimed but then nodded slowly. "I‘m sorry to hear that… but, to be honest, we already feared something like this might have happened. Otherwise we would never have stopped looking for you..."

"I don’t think that would have made a difference.", A'viloh offered to comfort him. "You probably wouldn’t have found us in time. I was only five years old then."

The other Miqo'te looked more shocked than comforted at that. "So young? What happened to you then? How come you're here now? Please, tell me everything."

They sat down and A'viloh started to explain, from the first things he could remember as a child until how he grew up at the Forgotten Springs. He left out Laqa and their unfortunate watery detour though, and skipped right to going to Ul'dah. Alone the thought of all of that still was very unpleasant to him, much less talking about it…

"I‘m so glad that you're alive and that I found you. It's good to finally know what happened after we left. A'temi would be so happy, if she could see you now!"

"A'tehmi…", A'viloh said silently, testing how her name sounded in his voice and how it made him feel. Tears started to prick at the corners of his eyes and he wished he could meet his sister right now. "I always thought I was the only one who survived, the last one of my family. I can’t believe I have an older sister… and of course a cousin!", he added quickly and looked up to A'aba.

His cousin just grinned at him and ruffled his hair. "Welcome back to the family, Viloh!"

[wickedhawtwexler]

did i tell y'all how i suggested to The Guy I Kinda Went On A Date With that we see a movie next time we hang out and his response was "idk there aren't any good places to see movies" like. sir. we live in new york city. what the actual fuck are you talking about 😭