#so maybe they are the key at the final battle who knows

[clonerightsagenda]

Kat's "I could fix her" Arcane season 2 post Part 1:

Yeah we're skipping straight past the recap/reflections on what this show actually was into my 'just let me into the writers room' post because I'm currently tormented by, ironically, what could have been

What's funny is the characters didn't even end up doomed by the narrative because of their League of Legends fates!! They killed a whole bunch of champions! They just Did All That anyway.

As I was saying in previous posts, the season was overstuffed. I genuinely liked some of the music video portions lol, but there was just so much going on.

I still would put Mel in a Magic Coma for the entire season and spin out her Black Rose plot for a third season or new spinoff (it seems like there will be one anyway). Her storyline as is felt like an afterthought and wasn't fully explained. Am I supposed to know the Black Rose lady? I don't. Being crammed in does her a disservice; I'd rather give her room to breathe. This would create a stronger absent mother/absent daughter bond between Ambessa and Caitlyn, and Caitlyn could see Ambessa claiming to do things for her daughter's sake even though it's obviously stuff Mel would never approve of, and that could force Caitlyn to reflect on how her mother wouldn't approve of the actions she's taking allegedly for her sake. That could sell Caitlyn's immediately re-siding with Vi better.

This may be a very hot take, but I didn't really like the werewolf Vander plotline. My understanding is he's a LoL champion, but he felt particularly cartoonish even in an increasingly cartoonish season, and just kept retreading the same ground. Vander's dead. :( He's alive! :) He's dead again. :( Obviously the cycles are part of the point, and he represents how Vander's death is this monstrous always dying never at rest force between the sisters tying them together and strangling them at the same time, but I'd cut it. Have Vi seek Jinx out after the prison break because she can't believe her sister did that, have Jinx admit she only did it to save one girl, and they reflect on how Vander also did stuff just for kids versus ideals. Make Vi reflect on how her little jaunt with Jayce killed a kid, and here Jinx is saving one, and people are complicated. Still not clear on how Jinx has no negative effects from Shimmer, so give her a few and that can be their new reason for going to Viktor's commune. Ambessa can hear about his new weird magitech without needing a werewolf to pique her interest.

Obviously this raises of the question of what Vi and Jinx are doing in the finale, and while I don't think every character needs a big damn fight scene, they can back up Caitlyn versus Ambessa since Mel won't be there, which also forces them to deal with the Vi-Caitlyn-Jinx tension. IDK if there's a way to have Jinx ambiguously blow herself up in that scenario but here's a thought, maybe the most prominently disabled characters don't all need to die and/or commit suicide? More on that later. Ambessa is subdued, not dead, though, so she and Mel can talk later.

Finally (for this post) I already expressed my frustration that the key class conflict so present in the first season and first half of the second gets mostly shoved under the rug because there's a new enemy to fight. Yes, that's often used as a distraction irl, but that's not a *good* thing. Sevika's sitting at the councilor's table at the end of the show. Who negotiated that? Caitlyn? If we absolutely must go the direction of a big damn final battle, I want to see that conversation and all of the pain and distrust that must've come up during it.

That's the kid gloves version. If I was being aggressive - and I would be - I'd have the fighting totally destroy Piltover with arcane corruption, and now everyone from Piltover has to live in the Undercity/Zaun as refugees. Forget Sevika sitting down at the Piltover table as the new councilors glare at her. Now the Piltover councilors are having to sit awkwardly down at a table with Sevika and Ekko's number 2. (Or Ekko. What is he doing besides sitting sadly on that roof. Is he involved in governance. Is his tree ok.) Piltover suffocated Zaun for years with their industrial runoff. Now they're choking to death on their own magical industrial waste, and they're going to have to learn to live like everybody else.

I am still parsing the whole Viktor, Jayce, and disability thing since as you know that's one of the elements that fascinates me most about this show (the new improved crunchy ableism even as they genuinely try to explore something interesting) so I will be typing a separate post about that, probably thinking through it as I write. Stay tuned.

[ryllen]

[redcherrykook]

── .˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ TENSION DEGREE 04

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College roomate!Jungkook x college roomate!reader- fwb 2 Lovers

Text messages of this chapter!

You find yourself having to share your room with a very sexually active medical science major who so happens to fancy you. Good thing he´s as charming and spontaneous as you, leading to many crazy parties and places you probably should not be hooking up at. When Jungkook started ignoring all his booty calls after accidentally calling someone by your name, unable to fuck away the thought of you, he knew he was cooked. Would he really leave his playboy antics for that sweet company of yours?

series- four!

content: mild slow burn- fwb2l, roomates, mutual pining, player jungkook that falls devoted to reader, cocky!JK, Confident!reader, psychology major reader, banter, parties, lots of smut (duh), only one bed trope, skinny dipping, roadtrip vibes

episode- warnings: sexual content (blowjob, making out, grabbing/groping, dirty talk), weed

Taglist: @khadeeeeej @ot7stansthings @whoa-jo @smoljjks @stvrlighytt @nono13bnd @jungshaking @junniesoleilkth @deepikhaprakash @rockstryoon @tatamicc @jjeonjjk7 @kookieandjoonberries @jcrl99 @httpjeonlicious @wnteraezz @aphrodyteeth @miniesjams32 @emojkoo @katie-tibo @user-190811 @massivebearharmony @hoseokteardrop @hoseoksluv89 @hoseoksluv90 @kooksdreamer

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"you sure you don´t wanna come?" Jungkook begs for the millionth time today,

He most definitely has a thing for pursuading you into his adventures,

Not that you mind anyways

Three days after the trip, 11:45 o'clock at night.

It felt like a delicious secret, knowing that you had him all to you,

.. you and his other girls.

To be fair, in these three days, there had only been the two of you

Not even chae knew, not yet

You'd tell her, tonight, for sure tonight.

Finally admitting that yes, the sexy roomate you wanna fuck maybe is worth it

To rewind, the last day spent at the beach house was fairly normal, that is, according to your standards

Packing, BBQing and acting like you haven't fucked your best friend and roomie which had been, surprisingly, easy.

No awkward waking up, no weird looks or air,

Just sexual tension that was easily resolved by quick make outs in the kitchen, right around the corner of your friends,

After the whole group had to hear yoongi getting his soul sucked out, even hoseok dropped trying to get in your pants.

Eunwoo was the only one that noticed something going on,

Giving you his number, for what ?

"Incase you wanna talk about that sexcapade you got going on, he can be annoying"

You accepted it, confused.

Right now, you're back in your little dorm, already having removed the smudged day make up and changed into comfy pjamas,

Hello kitty, obviously

"God you're lame" he sighs, rolling up a second blunt,

You join him by scoffing, pinching his cheek while walking by.

"Fine fine, okay"

He slips it into his cigarette case once he's done, grabbing a lighter from the microwave while you jiggle the car keys in your hands,

"Where is it exactly?" a simple question leaves your lips, still, it makes him chuckle.

His brilliant idea of the day was to go stargazing, then getting faded while talking about everything that came to mind.

You'd have to stay a long time, just to make the drive back.

He didn't mind, he said.

"I think its like a 25 min drive? Wanna get a snack too?"

Your head shakes, already stepping out the door with one foot,

"Would loveeee to be in the passenger seat though" you shout back, knowing that this battle has been your win from the start

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"I should be studying the attachment theories of bowlby right now" you laugh, rolling down the warm grass,

Another gentle push finds your shoulder, Jungkook's firm body crashing right next to you,

"Nerd" he chuckles

The scenery above is something straight out of a movie, thumping noises of the bustling city, far, far removed

So faint, even the car engines are being overshadowed by rustling branches of huge trees,

Stood tall around the patches of grass, like the one you're resting on.

The sky is clear, deep ocean blue with hundreds of smaller and bigger, shining stars illuminating the atmosphere, making up for the suns absence

Jungkook's head turns sideways, his eyes scanning over your sharp side profile, wide eyes twinkling from the beautiful sight

He smiles, reaching into his cigarette case to take out the two blunts, along with his lighter

Once the smoke clouds your vision so does the herby smell,

"Give me a puff kook" you say, scooting closer to him

He takes another drag, exhaling the smoke into the air,

You rest your under arm propped up on the grass, head and lower body now sat up, while your legs still lay close,

Sticking out the blunt qnd lifting it to your lips, you lean in, placing them around the calming sensation of finally smoking weed again

"Feels good huh? Better than bowlby?" his slender fingers stretch to tuck a strand behind your ear,

"Mhm" you hum, puffing the smoke out once more, making him grin with yet another idea

"C'mere baby"

You scoff, leaning in nonetheless

He takes a long, deep drag, swallowing the thickened smoke to be locked in his throat,

His hands pulling your face by your jaw, making you lean over him

Getting the message, your lips collide with his, opening your plump lips slightly to recieve the smoke from his mouth into yours

You accept it, gladly inhaling the sweet herby calmness

"Good girl" he winks, smiling cockily while rubbing his thumb on your bottom lip

You push him by his chest, pressing him deeper into the grass

He pushes back, making you lay down next to him with a small groan

"You're so annoying" you grin anyways, unable to hide how you truly feel

It always feels like the world is a little quieter when you're with him,

Calmer, while also being a whole lot more exciting

"Want me to light the second one?"

Your head tilts to his, now it being your turn to watch his side profile while he gazes up to the hopeful stars,

"Nah, one is enough"

His head turns too, leaving a couple centimeteres between your heads,

Almost crashing when he does so,

The softness of his face is so evident up close, erasing him from the shackles of his obnoxious personality

In the best way imaginable, of course

"Hmm you're right, im already high and really horny" he says, a proud look going down your body, even in your hello kitty pyjama pants and the white tank top you're wearing,

Jungkook is going crazy, the burning desire under his skin to run his hands all over you is becoming harder and harder to ignore

Finding it entertaining, you climb on his hips, which makes his hands immediately occupy the softness of your comfy pants, feeling the impact of his palms on your hips through them

You'd never pass up an oppurtunity to touch him

"hm, you are? really?" you say innocently, the sound of your voice so alluring, so inviting

He sucks in a breath when your hands find their way creeping under his shirt, slowly tracing up his hardend ab muscles

"Fuck yeah i am" he mutters under his breath, increasingly getting worked up by your little teases, gesturing down his body with your eyes

Hands following suit by playing with his belt, his palms press inward on your hips, firmly caressing them while his growing bulge pushes into your hips from below,

The pressure feels so good, having him grow thick and heavy below your touches

All he can look at is you, your tits in perfect, squished view, your face all concentrated,

The mesmerizing scenery you drove for is getting outshined by two horny college students

"Wanna get your dick sucked jeon?"

the groan he lets out combined with the way his hand moves to wrap around your throat, pulling you down, should be answer enough,

However, the sparks only increase when his deep, teasing tone of voice turns slightly whiny,

"If you talk like that i'll cum baby, please" he says, biting the corner of his lip,

You moan, capturing him in a deep, messy kiss that leaves a string of saliva connecting you, tongues poking out slightly

"Sit up then, knees apart"

He follows suit immediately, barely regsitering what's going on around him

The throbbing of is hard cock is enough to do anything for a sweet release,

Besides, you could always make him forget where the two of you are, none of that mattered

"You look so sexy like this bunny" he mumbles, keeping the whiny desperation laced within his voice,

Eyes wandering over the way your back arches, how your forearms are pressed into the ground, that sweet look of anticipation making him lose his mind

One of your small, delicate hands wrapping around the base of his dick

You can't help but slap it against your lips and cheek a couple times, the reaction of his,

The way his eyes tense and his jaw clenches,

It's too good to pass up

A gobble of spit lands on his cock, you let it run down slowly, pumping him firmly until your thumb hits his tip,

"Mmh fuck" he moans, head already threatening to fall back, he's so enticed with the way you move, the way you look so innocent peering up at him though your lashes,

His moans intensify, turning into lower pitched groans once your tongue and lips wrap around his tip, focusing on building up the pressure,

"Please bunny, take it like the pretty girl you are, i need to feel you so bad" he mutters, reaching to stroke your cheek with one of his tattooed fingers,

You hum against his skin, letting yourself down on him,

He's big, so big you struggle to take him in with an open throat, gagging once all of him is stuffed inside your sweet mouth,

He moans loudly, gathering some of your hair in order to support the movements of your head, bumping up and down on his cock,

"That's it, good girl, you feel so good"

By now you're begining to notice his head had fallen back, eyes squeezed shut tightly from the overwhelming pleasure,

Feeling your tongue swirl around his dick, the way you gag and moan when his pushes become rougher,

He's never been like this before, so into it and lost in the feeling of being on the recieving end,

"Fuck - oh my god, that's it, mhmm, gag on my dick pretty, doin' so well"

The way his praises keep flowing out has your own slick running down your folds, complentary to the way drool is leaking from the corner of your mouth

From the way he twitches in your mouth, the rapidly approaching orgasm was undeniable,

"Gonna cum baby, want you to swallow every drop, understood?" he pants, opening his eyes to gaze down at your pretty face, fully occupied with his cock

You moan, letting him know you will

And when he does, with a couple last curses and pushes of your tangled hair in between his fingers,

Your eyes meet his, watching his face fall beautifully while simultaneously feeling hot ropes of cum spurting down your throat

You swallow, of course, showing him your empty mouth afterwards

"Mhm.. god.." he's still trying to catch his breath, "c'mere bunny"

You're on top of his thigh, practically in his lap, his hand having found the comfortability on your face once again,

Pecking your lips a few times, which makes you smile in return

"You give the best head, no joke"

You can´t help but laugh, thinking that his casual comment made you swell with pride, it´s comofrting, knowing that from the many girls,

maybe you are different,

maybe you could be?

A soft kiss is placed on his nose, you ruffle his hair too, almost as in taking revenge for how messed up you look because of him

"Well i sure hope so now that i have a birds nest in my hair" you giggle,

He rolls his eyes, hands tightening around the soft skin of your waist, sneakily having found their way under your clothes

"You're beautiful, shut up" he says, capturing you in a kiss once more,

It's becoming increasingly more difficult to pretend the heartbeat in your chest is regular, like the blush on your cheeks is as well

He doesn't make it any easier, not in the slightest

"Wanna know what im craving so bad right now"

"What?" You ask, playing with a few strands of his hair,

"Fast food, like a crazy bacon burger or somethin' " he replies, licking his lips to portray the severity of the situation,

a slight look of disappointment hitting your face,

he coos,

"Awhh what? wanted me to say your name?"

his exaggerated pout stirrs up annoyance in you,

"Well I gave you the best blowjob and get met with a burger craving"

Jungkook kisses you swiftly, lacing his fingers in your hair,

"I´ll make it up to you at home, i promise"

your lips curve into a small smile, now that you think about it, a burger does sound really good,

maybe that´s the weed in your system talking

"Let's go get it then, i'd kill for a burger"

He seems happy with your agreement, hoisting you up bridal style while talking,

"On it pretty" his hand moves down, quickly squeezing your ass, which makes you hit his back with another airy gasp,

The thought of being uncomfortable never crossing your mind,

Even if some other, pressing thoughts are developing far too loudly for your liking.

[edenesth]

[2:49 AM]

"Home at last," you murmured, leaning wearily against the door after tossing your keys aside. You let out a sigh, glancing at the time on your phone. You were just now getting home after work—nearly three in the morning.

And you... you needed him, but Seonghwa wasn't here. Last you heard, he was overseas for work. With a heavy sigh, you turned your gaze to the rain-streaked windows. The world outside was drenched, the ground slick with water. You hated it. You loathed it—the rain, the dampness. It felt as if even the gods were weeping over how miserable life seemed right now.

Okay, maybe you were being a bit dramatic, but work had been a nightmare for months. You were so close to that promotion though, so you just had to push through. And you could handle it—life was never easy, after all. But on top of the stress, your growing health issues lately felt like a battle you couldn't win.

Life had been... exhausting lately.

And the one person who could make it all feel better deserved someone who could give him so much more than this. You wondered if he was asleep now, if he was dreaming of you, just as you couldn't stop thinking of him. Or maybe it was better if he wasn't.

Despite your exhaustion, the last thing you wanted was to return to the same empty bed that had been without your boyfriend's presence for so long. Sometimes, you wondered if your relationship had reached that point—where both of you had bigger, more pressing things like careers to focus on, instead of each other.

Before your thoughts could spiral any further, you set your bag down, and your gaze landed on the vacuum he had given you for your birthday last year. He'd gotten it to help ease your back issues, hoping it would make cleaning less of a strain.

Cleaning—his favourite thing.

Ironically, you hadn't even used it yet, despite it being a gift from him. Seonghwa always ended up coming over and doing the cleaning himself before you could even get the chance. Maybe now would be a good time to finally put it to use and take your mind off things. As he'd often said, cleaning could be therapeutic.

Only one way to find out.

"What the—" he jolted awake at the sudden noise from outside. Who on earth would be vacuuming at—he glanced at the digital clock beside him—three in the freaking morning?! Tossing the comforter aside, he shuffled to the door and swung it open.

"I swear to g—babe?"

You froze. Were you hearing things? Slowly, you switched off the vacuum and spun around, only to see your boyfriend standing there at your doorway in his favourite worn-out t-shirt, his hair adorably tousled.

"H-Hwa? What are you doing here?"

"They let me off a few days early, so I came home first. But what about you? You promised to stay at your parents' whenever I wasn't around. You know how much it scares me to think of you alone here."

Your lips quivered as he stepped closer, gently taking the vacuum from your hands and setting it aside before guiding you to the couch. "I... I've been needed at work a lot lately, so I've been staying here since it's closer to the office. But—wait, why did they let you off early? Are you not feeling well?" you asked, panic creeping into your voice as your hands flew to his face.

He chuckled softly, holding your hands and pressing his forehead against yours. "I guess you could say that," he murmured. "My heart hasn't been feeling too good."

Your eyes widened in alarm. "Your heart?! We need to get you checked—" You tried to pull away to grab your phone, but he gently pulled you back by the shoulders.

"It's okay," he whispered, a teasing smile on his lips. "It just... misses its owner."

You blinked, confusion clouding your gaze. "Its owner...?"

"Yes, you. It belongs to you, doesn't it?" he said, his voice tender.

You sighed, finally calming down as the worry ebbed away, replaced by overwhelming relief. When was the last time he'd said something this sweet? Tears filled your eyes as you melted into his arms. "I missed you too, Hwa," you whispered softly.

Home... at last.

It didn't take long before your body went limp in his embrace, exhaustion finally catching up to you. His heart clenched painfully as he held you close, stroking your hair gently. Truth be told, he'd found it hard to focus on work ever since he realised how much of a rough patch you'd been going through. The distance, the long hours, and the silence between texts—maybe it had all taken more of a toll on you than he'd allowed himself to see.

Perhaps if he'd been more present, more attentive, things wouldn't have gotten so overwhelming for you. Guilt gnawed at his chest, and he hoped—prayed—it wasn't too late to change that now. You deserved someone who made you feel safe and loved, not someone who put everything else before you.

Carefully, he shifted you onto the couch, laying you down gently as if you were made of porcelain. His eyes softened as he pulled the blanket draped over the back of the couch and tucked it around you snugly. You looked so fragile like this, traces of stress still etched on your sleeping face even as you finally rested.

"I'm here now," he whispered softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

With a deep breath, he sank down beside you, not quite able to leave your side just yet. He reached out, his fingers tangling lightly with yours, and watched as your hand unconsciously tightened around his. A sad smile tugged at his lips.

He could see it now—all the times you'd put on a brave face, all the moments you'd said you were okay when, clearly, you weren't. And he'd been too wrapped up in his own responsibilities to realise. But no more. He'd make it right.

From now on, no matter what, he'd put you first.

With that thought, he settled in beside you, keeping a watchful eye as you slept soundly for the first time in what felt like ages. He could feel his own eyes growing heavy, but he didn't move. For now, he'd stay here, where you needed him to be. Finally, he let himself relax, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. Because he was where he belonged—right by your side.

Watching your chest rise and fall with each steady breath, Seonghwa's heart ached with a mix of relief and regret. He'd almost forgotten how peaceful you looked when you were resting. When was the last time you'd fallen asleep so easily? Had you been spending these nights alone, tossing and turning, fighting your own thoughts?

Guilt twisted in his gut as he brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face. His eyes trailed over the faint shadows beneath your eyes, the stress lines that seemed so out of place on your once-bright features. What had he been doing all this time? He'd known work was tough for you, yet he'd kept pushing himself to focus on his own projects, thinking he was doing what was best for your future together.

But what good was any of it if he wasn't there when you needed him most?

A wave of self-reproach washed over him, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He'd been chasing after goals, believing it was all for you, yet somewhere along the way, he'd let you slip through his fingers. You were right here, yet you'd never seemed further away.

Drawing in a shaky breath, he tightened his hold on your hand, as if afraid you might disappear if he let go. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I should have been here. I should have listened better... I didn't realise how much you were hurting."

The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of rain outside and your even breathing. He watched you stir a little, brow furrowing as if sensing his distress even in your sleep. He quickly leaned forward, his lips brushing your knuckles in a feather-light kiss.

"I promise, I'll do better," he murmured, a fierce determination settling in his chest. "No more empty beds, no more lonely nights. We'll figure this out together, okay?"

It was a vow, one he intended to keep no matter what. Slowly, he shifted to sit on the floor beside the couch, resting his head near your shoulder. He didn't care if it was uncomfortable—he just needed to be close, to feel your warmth. The distance that had grown between you over the past few months felt insurmountable, but he'd rebuild it brick by brick if he had to.

He wasn't going to let you carry everything on your own anymore.

Eventually, he felt your fingers tighten around his hand, just slightly. His heart skipped a beat, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

Maybe... just maybe, this was a start.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Thank you, pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for the idea! I just love how this was supposed to be a lighthearted and funny timestamp but my reality took over and here we are.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this self-indulgent little piece. As always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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@bunny4yungi @zl-world

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 03

Kinktober Masterlist in absentia lucis - "in the absence of light" John Price x f!reader Kinks > rape, torture, sensory deprivation Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

You are a new recruit to the CIA, and Kate Laswell sends you to some remote blacksite for your interrogation training. Your temporary commander, Captain John Price, gives you a safeword, but as your training begins, you realize that you feel everything except for safe. 

Hey, did you see where the tags said RAPE? Okay, just making sure.

It was three flights and a cab. It was airport food and cold coffee. It was forgetting whether the date ended in a three or a four. It was paperwork and passports and finally a cold office. It was a long trip, and you were running on empty. 

“What are your expectations, here, Katie? I don’t wanna do another Warsaw situ–” The man complained.

“This is nothing like Warsaw. She can handle it. Trust me.” Your boss replied, her voice crackling over the video call.

The man who complained squared his jaw and fixed his eyes on you again, looking at you fresh now that your handler, Kate Laswell, had vouched for you. You tried not to fidget in your seat. You didn’t sit up any straighter. You weren’t here to advertise yourself as the bravest or the toughest of anything. You knew you still needed a lot of training, and if he wanted to draw his own conclusions about you, then that was his business, not yours. 

“Her scores are high. She beat your exam?” 

“She did. Her field test and her ‘chute certifications were performed at a DF site here in the states.”

There was a long pause before Laswell spoke again,

“Do me this favor and maybe I’ll even let you borrow her for a recon mission or two. I know none of your boys are pretty enough to pass for party girls, but mine is.”

“That she is,” you heard his tone darken, thickening in his mouth like sticky sap from a tree, borderline inappropriate. When he saw your reaction to his comment, he turned back to the screen and said, “Alright, Katie. You got a deal. I’ll send her back once she’s out of recovery.”

“Thanks, John. Don’t go easy on her, or she’ll make you pay for it.”

“Is that so?” His wry smile sent a jolt somewhere in your belly that you didn’t appreciate.

She laughed and hung up the call. You waited, trying not to let the jitters or the exhaustion win out, battling both but feeling pulled in either direction just the same. 

“So,” he turned his attention to you at last, “Did you lay in your fuckin’ pink princess bed when you were a little girl and dream about becoming a bloody spy, or is this some sort of complex I should know about?”

You shrugged, 

“A man does what he must…”

“Careful, girl. Quoting Kennedy can’t be good for your health if you’re working in Katie’s office, hm?”

“You don’t need to know why I’m here, sir.” You used his title like a knife, flashing it right in front of his eyes and watching them ignite with his smoldering, quiet fury.

“No, but I bet I’ll find out during our time together,” he promised, making your heart clench with stress and anxiety, “What’s your safeword?”

“Red.”

“Red,” he repeated it to you as if he wanted to see how it felt in his mouth. Then, after a long pause, he explained, “I will also stop before the point of emergent damage. But, I will push you past the point of pain. You will sustain injuries. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, love?”

He seemed to be under the misconception that this was your first rodeo. You knew what you had come here for, and it wasn’t some drill sergeant to yell you into shape. You had already been through Delta Force’s operator training center - the parts they allowed CIA operatives through, anyway - and you’d surpassed what Williamsburg had to offer. You were aiming to serve as a Special Skills operative, the blackest of the black ops groups, and although you lacked the physical strength to be of any use in most field positions, you had one key factor that your fellow recruits didn’t have.

Men never expected a woman to be a threat. 

Laswell had plans for you. She’d tracked down two high value targets, but they were well-guarded. However, there were usually strippers and dancers and prostitutes as far as the eye could see, always partying and coming and going at all hours of the night. You were her way in. But, it was your job to get back out. If you could survive, you’d be a hero. If you didn’t, well, she had more pawns on the board. Not to mention, you had a mission of your own to complete..

So, you worked harder than anyone. You jumped at every field training exercise, you took martial arts classes in every different format you could find, and you lived at the shooting range. You didn’t have a social life. Usually, if you were alone in a room with a man, your fists were connecting with each other’s faces. 

You looked back across the wooden desk in front of you, over his nameplate - Captain Price - and into his startlingly blue eyes,

“I understand.”

He came out of his chair like a fucking demon, lunging for you without warning. As you stumbled backward, wielding your own chair over your shoulder, you sighed inwardly. You’d at least expected a more civilized initiation, maybe even a moment for a coffee, before he started in on his training. But, alas, that was not to be. 

You crashed the wooden chair against his head, neck, and shoulder as he rounded the desk, keeping hold of the broken armrest as a weapon. You stabbed downward, aiming for his throat and not holding back. He blocked you, cracking your wrist against the rigid wood. You stepped into his space, kicking his heel out from under him and following him to the floor. His head hit the concrete with a bang, and you used that moment to pin the armrest against his throat, bearing down on him with all your weight, dislodging his trachea enough to cut his air supply. 

He flung you off of him like a ragdoll, and your back slammed into the leg of the desk. You twisted underneath it, staying just out of his reach, small enough to fit through the gap. He scrambled up on all fours, cackling at you with a gravelly, menacing laugh before leaping up and over the desk to pull you out by your ankles. 

You kicked up and over, making contact with his nose, and when he dropped your other foot, you launched your heel into his balls, making sure to aim as deeply as you could. 

He coughed, and it was your turn to laugh. 

Your victory was short-lived. He launched his body at you, shoving your back down on the desk. You felt the familiar bite of his nameplate digging into your skull, so you dragged it out and swung it at him, cutting him across his cheek. He hissed, yanking it out of your hand and tossing it to the ground. 

The captain forced himself between your legs, pressing his body down on yours, and wrapped his hand across your throat. You fought like hell to get him off, twisting his pinky until you thought it might break, but he caught your wrists in his other hand, holding them at a terrible angle, choking you until you saw rainbow spots discolor your vision. 

“Well,” he said, breathless and bleeding, “Christmas came early, dinn’it?”

Just making sure you read the tag that said this fic has RAPE IN IT. I'm just checking in again. Just want you to know. Okay, thanks.

When you woke up, you weren’t completely sure of it, at first. It was as if you were still asleep. You opened your eyes, but all you saw was an endless blackness. You couldn’t hear anything, you couldn’t smell anything, and you couldn’t move your jaw. But you could feel everything. 

Your whole body screamed in pain. One of your hands was wrenched above your head, and the weight of your body hung from your broken wrist, making you cry out in whatever muffled way you could.

Then, something was removed from your ears, and you could hear again. It was still quiet, but the sound of the aircon and the noise of another person’s breath were like blaring sirens compared to the silence you had been steeped in. 

“Look who’s awake,” John’s purr of a voice washed over you. 

You tried to reply, tried to beg for him to cut you down, but you couldn’t speak. Your mouth was holding something round and pliant. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” he patted your flank, and you were suddenly aware of your nakedness. He’d taken your clothes? You could hear him scooting a metal chair across the room towards you, and his pants rustled as he sat down, “Can’t have you talkin’ your way out of this one. Based on the three stitches in my cheek, I was wrong to underestimate you, darlin’. Shoulda listened to Katie, this time. But, look at you. Just a whisper of a thing.”

His rolling chuckle made your bones itch. 

“Hard to use a safeword when you’ve got a gag on, yeah?”

You nodded, acknowledging the irony. 

Price moved in the chair again. No, he stood. You could hear his boots sliding around you in a half-circle. He kept talking to you, his tone as casual as ever,

“Yeah, thought so. But, this isn’t one of those trainings, pretty girl. You won’t be needing one. I will stop when you’re ready to stop, not when you want to stop. You need to learn that, sometimes, your body…” His hand snaked its way around your thigh and you tried to kick out at him, discovering your ankles were tied together and anchored to the floor, “... is capable of so much more than you give it credit for.”

Your heart began to slam against your chest, and your breathing became labored. You were having a panic attack. If you could only see…

“Hey,” his tone shifted, becoming the instructor again, “Breathe slowly. In. Hold it. Out. All the way. In. Out. Tha’s it. Good.” 

There was a long pause. You could smell him now. It was cigars and fire and gunpowder and smoke. It filled your senses, replacing your sight with scent. 

“I’m gonna put your ears back on, and we’ll see what you can do.” 

The world fell away again, and all you had was the smell of him. Then, he started his training. 

It wasn’t the pain that upset you, not really. Pain was something you could move past. It was the surprise. You never knew when it was coming, nor where he was going to hit you next. Sometimes it was his fist. Sometimes it was a belt. Sometimes it was an electric shock. Legs, ribs, foot, arm, neck, belly… there was no pattern. 

You also had no idea of the passage of time. You were infinite and you existed in the darkness of infinity. It was just pain forever with no reprieve. 

Until it wasn’t.

The first time you felt his fingers pinching the tender peaks of your breasts, your whole body jolted. You hadn’t really responded to the pain in the same way, but to pleasure? It was unexpected in a different way. You didn’t think he would violate you. That wasn’t even something they’d tried to do when you were with the DF. 

You bucked, hoping that your displeasure was noted for the record. 

But, perhaps, your mind teased you, the lady doth protest too much? You had wanted him to touch you when he’d picked you up from the airport. When he shook your hand, hadn’t you measured his fingers and started wanting? Weren’t you eager for training to be over so you could be invited back to his flat for the after-work romp you knew would be on offer?

Hanging there like a slab of meat had changed things a bit, but it had not quelled your desire, unfortunately.

You wondered if he had reacted. You imagined him laughing at you. Was he enjoying himself? Or was this all apart of his brand of training? 

I bet you choke out all the pretty girls… you sneered inwardly. 

More pain. This time, your ass cheeks were the targets. The snapping bite of what felt like a belt hit you repeatedly and without mercy. You found yourself breathless from silently screaming, your tongue pressing against the gag for some sort of relief and finding none. 

Then, pleasure again. His thick fingers fondled your pussy from behind, digging into your flesh and discovering the wetness hidden inside of your unused hole. There was no romance to his movements, but forcing an orgasm from you did seem to be his goal. And fuck, you lamented, he was good at it. 

He doubled up, twisting two fingers deep inside of you, pounding them into your body all the way to the knuckle, fast and hard, dragging you towards the edge. Your legs began to tremble, and you knew your face must’ve looked a mess, because you were in total shock. 

It felt like he was going to vibrate you right out of your skin, and still he moved faster. He wrapped his other hand around your belly, holding you in place, and you thrashed against it, fighting the mounting urge to come. 

You were doing pretty well, you thought, given the conditions. Until…

His soft lips pressed themselves down onto your spine. It was just a chaste kiss, but it unfurled you like a ripcord. You exploded, your whole body convulsing in bliss, and although you were wearing a blindfold, you could see white streaks and stars dancing across your vision. You came alive. 

Price pulled out of you, and you felt the stream of slick drip down your legs. He’d forced you to squirt, something you thought was completely faked, only for pornos. But, there it was, proof of its reality smearing down your thighs and onto the concrete floor. 

Pain, again. 

The searing sting of a taser in the sensitive flesh of your belly. 

Fists and harsh palms. 

The bite of a chain. 

A sharp ache from a needle or a knife. 

His fist closing around your index finger and snapping it cleanly in two. 

You wanted to puke, but there was nothing to come up. Your belly bulged and hollowed, letting you gag and choke around nothing, going through the motions and yet giving you nothing to move. 

Then, pleasure. 

His hands were back on your pussy, finding your clit and teasing you until you jerked forward. But, his hand remained, insisting. And insisting. And insisting. 

You lost track of how many times you’d toppled over the edge of your orgasm. There were no borders, not anymore. Your pleasure was bleeding and smearing all around you in one great wave, blinding you to the starts and stops from coming and not. You were drowning in it. 

Just when you thought you might pass out, you felt the prod of his prick between your legs, entering you from behind. You couldn’t feel a condom. You tried to twist yourself away, rocking your hips to no avail. 

This was definitely not protocol.

Those lips returned to the same spot on your spine, and you melted onto him, covering him like hot wax, sealing your body onto his cock like a brass signet, letting him leave his mark on you. 

His hands found your breasts, squeezing them roughly, holding your body to him in a vicious embrace. 

Then, he dug around inside of your mouth and yanked out the gag. You felt yourself make a terrible noise, but you couldn’t hear the sound that came out. You knew he could, though, because when he heard you, his cock throbbed at your entrance, and it made him push forward, dipping into you even deeper. 

Wait… Captain Price. Please. Wait. Wait. 

You wondered if you were as loud as you tried to be. In fact, you wondered if he could hear you at all because he did not stop. If anything, he went onward with even more fervor. 

His mouth kissed its way across your back, and you could feel his stubble and the coarse hairs of his beard raking their way along your skin. His warm tongue leaving little wet stamps as it laved across you, tasting your sweat. 

The way his fat prick was stretching you out made you question if he was using himself or the armrest of the chair that you had tried to kill him with. You hissed from the ache, but he didn’t halt his advance. Didn’t retreat. He just pressed further inside of you. 

How much cock did this jerk have?

Finally, you felt his hairy base tickle the skin under your ass cheeks, and you knew there was an end to his incredible length. 

What… why are you doing this? Why…

He pulled himself out in the same way he had pressed in, slowly and with a fierce persistence. 

Then, he began to pound himself into you.

You were at the perfect height for him, and it made you sick to your stomach to know that it was deliberate. This had been his plan all along. And although most of you felt completely indignant, there was a nasty little demon in your heart that celebrated in it. He’d wanted you from the start, even after you’d made him bleed, maybe even because of it. 

And that thought brought you no small amount of joy. 

His hands had returned to your breasts, playing with them too roughly. John was pinching your nipples and craning his neck around to suckle from them, nipping at them with his teeth until you screamed from the pain of being bitten. Even then, your screams were a poor deterrent. It didn’t stop him from returning to them, crushing the stiff tips as he worked his cock inside of you, fucking himself up into you at a punishing pace. 

He only pulled away to stick his tongue inside of your armpit, licking you over and over in a place where no one had ever even thought to lick, and you wished you could say, honestly, that it had disgusted you. But, it didn’t. If anything, it made you gasp with a new brand of pleasure. He had awakened something fresh and bright in you that you never meant to discover. 

Then, he got brave. He shoved two fingers right into your slack mouth, and you immediately bit down, hard. You could taste blood, and you fought against his flesh, trying to crack the bone. But, he shoved them down your throat, and all you had to chew on was a fat fist that wouldn’t even allow your jaw to close much less to bite. 

You could feel his fingers in your throat, deep down in a place where fingers were never supposed to go, and all you could do was swallow around them, trying your best to keep from drooling into your airway. 

His cheek pressed into your shoulder blade. He was enjoying you. 

The way his gentle kiss or the softness of his cheek ripped orgasms from you was concerning, to say the least. You hoped you could remember this moment, of how the way he rested himself against you as he was taking you against your vocal will was throwing your body down a deep well of dark, forbidden pleasure. How your vision burned white and gold and formed spots of colors that had no names as he fucked you into a different plane of existence. How you thought, if you got a late night text, written in his smoky, raspy Scouse accent, you would crawl your way back across the pond just so he could give it to you again. 

Oh, my God… You screamed from the pit of your belly. 

His thrusts never slowed. He was like a machine. All those muscles were being put to work, and you were the mission. 

Had it been hours?

Days?

Did the world still exist outside of this concrete cube that you suspected you were in?

Would you starve to death in here?

The demon that apparently lived in your cunt rolled its eyes and said, who cares? I wanna come again and again and again…

And you did. You were so overstimulated that you thought even someone looking at you the right way would make you come. It had become painful, at one point, and now you were not numb… Numb wasn’t the right word. You were soft. Your mind and your pussy were just murky, oily, cock-filled vessels, happy they were full and unwilling to question what it meant. 

When he finally pulled out of you, you were limp. You didn’t thrash or fight. You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. 

You felt his fingers again, drawing out your foaming, frothy come into his hand. He used it to smear it along the rim of your asshole. Then, he began to fuck your tight hole with his fingers, one. Over and over. One. One. One. Then, he added a second. Two. Two. A thousand times, two. Three was a bit of a challenge, but he pushed through. Three. Two. Three. Two. Three. Three. Three. And then, none. 

None. 

None. 

Where did he go?

Pain. A heavy hand slapping across your bruised tits. Again. Again. 

You were screaming, surely. You wanted to be, at least. 

The flat of his palm beat itself against your breast over and over without mercy. 

Then, his cockhead rested at the entrance of your asshole. 

You didn’t beg this time. If anything, he should be the one begging, you thought. If you lived, you were going to make him remember you. 

Price shoved himself inside of you with some force, but you took it. You waited until he was fully sheathed inside, and when he took a breath, when those lips rested themselves on the back of your neck, you beared down on him, hard. 

You felt his breath catch as it skittered across your skin. 

The demon in you chuckled in triumph. 

C’mon, Captain. Is that all you got? You made the words come out of your throat, and you hoped he could hear you. 

The way that his hand fisted itself in your hair told you that he had. 

If you thought he had fucked your pussy like an animal, you had been mistaken. He took your ass like he owned it. Like it was his toy. There was no pleasure-seeking rhythm, no careful pacing or grinding movements. He was fucking you because he wanted to come. So, you made him. 

Every time he dragged himself out, you let him go, but every time he pressed himself in, you fought him the whole way. Squeezing and pushing, squeezing and pushing, making your tight hole even tighter, rocking your hips to drive him mad with want. 

You felt him lose control, his hot spend filling your ass and bursting out of his swollen head, soaking your hole. You pulsed around him, and you felt that soft cheek return to your shoulder. 

Come for me, baby. Good boy. You giggled out loud. 

He slapped you across the mouth, and you laughed harder, feeling his cock slip out of you, spent. 

You can’t hurt me in a way that matters, John Price. Do your fuckin’ worst.

You felt him step around you, smelling his breath as he held you face to face. Then, the noise of the room came back and you could hear him panting, ragged and desperate. You felt the blindfold fall away and you could see him, your eyes shrinking in the dim light of the cell, hurt by even the smallest glow of light. 

You were back, but you were not yourself. Not anymore. You were a different you. Someone he had made. He had crafted you with his own hands. 

“Why? Why didn’t you beg me to stop?”

His eyes were burning into yours as he stared down at you, questioning what he had done, what you had done with him. You had used him like a sharpener, honing yourself to a high shine, and he didn’t understand. 

When you heard your voice for the first time, you mourned it a bit, but you knew it would come back eventually. It was raspy, muddled, and barely audible, but you said it with your whole chest,

“I was made for this, and I could go all fuckin’ day.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long did he keep you prisoner?”

Kate Laswell, you fucking bitch. 

He’d read your file. The real one. Not the one on your tagline, but the one that you and Laswell had hidden away. 

“Five months,” you told him, a sick smile on your face, “But, you already knew that.”  

He sighed, his hands on his hips, just as naked as you, which you found a little funny. 

“Why’d you come here? Why would she…” 

You watched him wrestle with the betrayal in his head, knowing he’d been manipulated. He’d walked right into her trap. You basked in his confusion, having almost as much fun as you’d had while he was railing you into oblivion. 

“Laswell said you needed a way into the Ikon, some strip club on the border between Russia and Urzikstan. So, I said I would help.”

“And she knew I’d say no…”

“Unless you knew I could handle it.”

It was his turn to be in pain. You could see the fire of it creeping through his belly, knowing he’d just tortured a girl who’d written the book in torture. The surgeries and the psych consults were long, long behind you, but your run in with the Russian mob was not something you were ever going to forget. But, now, John Price was going to give you a chance at revenge. You were his gun, and you just needed him to point you in the right direction. 

Suddenly, he cut you down, freeing you from your hanging place. You crumpled into his arms, letting him hold you as you collapsed. You used your hands to pet the worry out of his eyes, and he fought you for it, trying to stop you from comforting him. So, you grabbed him with what little strength you could muster, and you pulled his face to yours, pressing your mouths together, making him taste your blood from where he had cut your cheek against your teeth. He yanked his head back, furrowing his brow,

“No, stop…”

“Shut up,” you said, kissing him again and feeling his surrender as he held you tighter, pulling you into his chest even though he was ridden with guilt. 

“We shouldn’t, love. I’m so sor–”

“Where’d you put that gag?” You pretended to look around for it, earning a slight smile and an exasperated huff.

You knew you’d made the cut, because when he fucked you this time, he didn’t hold back.

Whelp. Kinktober!

[lizardboiii]

At The Tone ┃ DCU

Barry Allen x Spider-Woman!Reader

┃ Summary: Sometimes bad things happen to good people - and that’s where the Justice League comes in. Too bad you weren’t interested.

“Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be" Billie Eilish, "What Was I Made For?"

│cw: SFW, alcohol abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, hurt/comfort, violent themes

│wc: 3.9k

│chapters: One shot

│notes: This fic has been sitting unfinished (with 2k words!!) in my drafts for a WHILE. randomly decided it needed to see the light of day ig. was gonna make it nsfw but i low key hate it and just wanted too move on oops. enjoy <3

・❥・

│One Shot: At The Tone

You have five new messages.

“Good afternoon, Spider-Woman this is Cla-”

You heard a throat clear.

“It’s Superman. I see you still aren’t picking up any of the team’s calls,” He swallowed thickly, “I understand your recent loss was… hard. Something none of us would have wished for anybody.”

You could feel the tension in his voice.

“Please take all the time you need. The league is more than capable of taking care of New York in your absence for the time being.”

The sound of a pen clicking disrupted the message every so often, “But at least give us some indication you're alive…and well. The team cares about you,” He chuckled warmly, “Even “Mr. I Work Alone” Batman himself.”

His laugh dropped abruptly with a soft sigh, “Call me back when you can.”

Beep

You crawled out of bed slowly, dragging your duvet behind you like a cloak. The plush cotton laid heavy on your shoulders. You wondered if this was how Big Blue felt every morning - the weight of knowing everything depending on him once he bore his iconic red cape. 

You knew what that weight felt like, and you knew what it felt like to have it all come crashing down.

You have four new messages 

“How’s it hanging, Spidy? Haha, you get it?” A dramatic sigh escaped the machine, “Sorry, poor timing.”

He took a moment to regroup, “It's Green Lantern, just calling to check in. Headquarters has been depressing without you. I mean even Martian Manhunter is down in the dumps. It's a total bummer.”

Another sigh, “Listen you don't have to call me back if you don’t want to, but at least let Flash know you're still alive. He needs you more than he lets on.”

Beep

You groaned at the shrill ring of the answering machine. The outdated tech was too cherished to be discarded but the pulsing headaches you received from it almost outweighed the fond memories of Aunt May.

Thoroughly woken up, you entered your kitchenette. Your eyes shifted between the week old coffee pot on your stove to the half empty Hennessy bottle next to it. 

Maybe this time you would make the right choice. A sober evening is a good evening. However, the battle was always rigged to begin with and the winner already predetermined.

The Hennessy felt burdensome in your hand as you took a long swig. It burned violently down your throat, eating at your skin, before finally settling warmly in your stomach. Though you hated to admit it, it satisfied you more than any pot of coffee could.

Staggering to your couch, courtesy of one of New York’s finest sidewalks, you flopped down. The cushions were well used and musty. But who were you to pass up a free couch?

You have three new messages

“Spider-Woman.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“Your recent inactivity has caused some concerns regarding your whereabouts. The league seems to be having a hard time focusing on missions with your absence.”

Bats’ uncertainty leaked through the phone as he thought of his next sentence, “You have my condolences, Webs. However, the league cannot continue to work with this distraction. Please report to the Hall of Justice immediately.”

He hesitated, “We are worried.”

Beep

An involuntary snort escaped you. Bats’ attempt at comfort was interesting to say the least. He was surprisingly awkward for a leader of the Justice League. Though you supposed dark and brooding was his brand.

You have two new message

“Greetings, Spider-Woman, Wonder Woman speaking.”

You could hear muffled arguing in the background.

“Batman may have been a bit…straightforward in that last voicemail,” She attempted a fake laugh, “Please do not mind his bluntness, he is merely just as concerned as the rest of us. In his own way at least.”

A loud slam made her curse under her breath.

“I apologize I must go, the “children” are fighting again. Don’t hesitate to call back. See you soon, Webs.”

Beep

Lifting the liquor to your lips, your brows creased when only a drop hit your tongue. Out already?

You let out an exaggerated sigh before placing the empty bottle on your coffee table. A quick glance at your barren pantry told you everything you needed to know. You’d have to go out and get some more. You felt your face scrunch. That means you have to go out in public.

You weighed your options. 

You could stay inside and continue to peacefully hide from the world, but you're guaranteed to sober up eventually.

Or you could make a quick trip to the convenience store down the road and pray the minimum wage employee can’t smell the alcohol on you from a mile away. 

You hummed thoughtfully. Though, now that you think about it, there’s a off chance you might run into the supe that’s covering your city for the time being. Then again, there’s a very high chance it’s not someone from the Justice League, a member from The Team at best. 

Massaging your forehead, you tried to remember the last time a Justice League member took a leave of absence. A blonde goatee flashed in your mind.

That’s right. Green Arrow was out for a while when he got busted up pretty bad. His protégé, Speedy, ended up babysitting Star City in his absence. You bit your lip. 

But you didn’t have one of those anymore.

You have one new message

“Hey Webs! Sent me to voicemail again, huh?”

An awkward laugh made the machine crackle.

“Just calling to check up on you. How are you doing? Feeling alright? Just say the word and I can grab you anything from anywhere. I mean literally anywhere. They don’t call me the fastest man alive for nothing!”

You could practically hear the large smile embedded on his face.

A large sigh passed through the speaker, “It’s been a month now. The team misses you…I miss you. A lot actually.”

He paused.

“Just call me back alright? I need to know if you're okay.”

Beep

Your hand paused over your front door handle. Flash’s deep voice was like a siren's call, beckoning you in. 

What you’d give to turn around. What you'd do to call him back. It took everything in you to force yourself away from his voice.

Your best friend. 

Your confidant. 

Your everything. 

You have zero new messages

・❥・

You weaved through the bustling sidewalk with a slight wobble, managing to dodge a third of the people you almost crashed into. Night was quickly approaching. That meant the streets were only going to get busier. 

More people = More crime = More superheroes.

Fumbling into a dimly lit alley, you avoided Main Street completely. It was too risky. Even in your civilian disguise there was no guarantee your voice wouldn’t be recognized - mainly by your teammates but especially by… Flash.

You recalled how often you sought each other out in the Hall of Justice. Whether it was meddling in the business of others, or simply enjoying the company of one another.

His hand always seemed to find its way to the small of your back. Gently resting. While his thumb delicately circled the thin fabric of your suit. 

He leaned in closer than he should. The dull smell of his cologne inevitably picked up by your heightened senses. 

It wasn't how friends should behave - but that's all you ever were. Friends.

Thwack!

You slammed yourself against one of the side walls in surprise, extinguishing your mind of complex thoughts. Creeping closer, you cursed in your head when harsh thumps and muffled grunting filled the air. 

“Where’s my money, Huey?”

Crack!

“I-I don’t know! Please!”

Whack!

You recognized the tell-tale sound of blood splattering against the ground, akin to paint splashing. The sound made you nauseous. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you thought of your next move. 

Now, on any normal occasion you’d swing in all heroic and save the day. But today was different. You were different. 

Excuses flooded your brain as you tried to explain to yourself why you felt little desire to help the abused man. 

Your suit was at home crammed somewhere in between an ugly Christmas sweater and a latex bodysuit you practically begged Cat Woman not to give you. 

Even if you had the energy, you were still considered MIA to the league. You’d basically be spoon feeding them your location. 

Your internal dilemma didn’t last long as the pummeling swiftly came to an end. Peaking around the corner, you watched the assistants retreat into an adjacent alley. They moved lazily. Clearly they didn’t expect to be caught.

You could still catch them.

You found yourself making an internal description. Two Caucasian males both wearing black beanies and disgustingly outdated puffer jackets. The taller one sported purple and green. While the shorter preferred yellow. 

Your foot shifted before you felt yourself hesitate. Maybe you shouldn’t. They’d probably be caught soon enough anyways. 

If anything, the supe covering your city would swoop in and haul their asses to the local jail. Especially when you called an ambulance for the man who was passed out on the ground. It would put this area on tonight's map. You sighed and finally allowed yourself to relax. 

This was fine. 

Everything was fine. 

Shifting your eyes to the ground, you located the poor soul who suffered the attack. His breathing was ragged and wet. You were quick to put two fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. A wave of relief crashed through you when you felt a steady beating.

Pulling out your phone, you immediately dialed 911 and requested an ambulance, anonymously of course. You stayed with the man until you could hear loud sirens growing closer. Your sign to leave. 

Exiting the alleyway, you reached the small convenience store in record time. The adrenaline in your system was starting to make quick work of the alcohol in your bloodstream. 

You could feel your senses beginning to come back. Eyes clearer. Ears sharper. You could practically hear the heartbeats of everyone in the store. 

Groaning at your misfortune, you beelined for the alcohol section in the back. My god was it beautiful. Itching to return home, you grabbed a random bottle that had the highest percentage. Taste didn’t matter. Only the effect.

Glancing at your selection you choked on your own spit. 30 dollars?? The glass bottle was swiftly put back as you grabbed the cheapest one you could find. Tucking the Shitty K under your arm, you turned to walk to the register.

“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP, OLD MAN.”

You froze. Extending your neck out, you caught a glimpse of the register. 

Purple, green, and yellow.

You had to be fucking kidding.

You watched as the two assailants from the alley held the elderly cashier at gunpoint. His form shook like a leaf. 

“Please! Just take the money and leave!”

You caught his eyes as he begged for his life. Tear filled and shaking. You could have prevented this. If you would have just stopped them when you had the chance none of this would have happened.

You could have saved the man in the alley. Saved the poor cashier.

You could have saved Uncle Ben too. 

Your eyes watered. Fucking pathetic mistake. What the hell were you doing? You weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a grown adult who should have learned from your mistakes by now.

Shifting your eyes from the vodka to him, you pressed your lips in a thin line. You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you were repeating past mistakes or the fact that you wanted to take the more expensive alcohol and leave unnoticed.

When did you become this? 

No wonder you let Spider-Girl die.

You needed a drink. Desperately.

Abruptly, a whiplash of red and yellow snatched you from your daydream. The streaking shape blew over the newspaper stand before spinning around the starstruck perpetrators. You knew those McDonald's colors from anywhere. 

Kid Flash.

Like any speedster, he removed the gun in milliseconds before tying up the confused robbers. They stood no chance against the meta-human.

Dusting off his hands, Kid Flash smiled smugly at the dumbfounded duo, “Guns aren’t currency, you know?”

The man in yellow thrashed violently, “What the hell-Kid Flash!? Why are you in New York? Spidey taking a break or something?”

You cringed.

Kid Flash’s boyish voice laughed awkwardly, “Something like that.”

You need to get out of here. Now.

Slowly backing into the aisle, you clenched your teeth when your elbow hit the shelf. The bottles tinked in a symphony, altering everyone in the store of your presence. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Instantly, you snatched your coat hood and covered your face and hair. Staring into the grime covered tiles, you prayed Kid Flash wouldn’t think too much of it.

“Hello?”

Of course. The one time he’s actually thorough.

“Are you alright?”

Bright yellow boots came into your vision as you tried to conceal yourself further. You hunched into yourself with clenched fists. Mistaking your actions for something else, Kid Flash placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey it’s okay! You don’t have to be sacred!”

You bite into your lip eager to escape the conversation, “I’m not. Please let go.”

Kid Flash laughed, sounding a little too similar to Flash in your opinion. Removing his hand from your shoulder, he stood next to you with his hands on his hips. 

“Then why are you hiding?” A red glove entered your vision. It was headed straight for your hood.

You slapped his hand away, “Didn’t your parents tell you not to talk to strangers.”

He shrugged, “That rule doesn’t really apply to superheroes.”

You couldn’t contain the breathy laugh that left your throat. You hate to admit it but you actually really missed the kid. 

However, you failed to realize your mistake. If anyone knew your laugh it was Kid Flash. You spent way too much time around him and Flash for him not too.

There was a long pause. 

“…Webs?”

You flinched hard, “Wrong person.” You internally cursed at yourself for the obvious slur in your voice.

“Are you drunk?”

“…No.”

His hand grabbed your upper arm tightly, “Where have you been? Are you okay?”

You gently pulled against his hold, attempting to break free without force, “I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t,” Kid Flash raised his hand to his ear piece, “Just let me notify Flash-”

“NO!”

Your arm flew up to the communicator without thought. Taking advantage of his surprise, you were able to snatch the high tech earpiece from his loosen grip.

“Hey!” 

Kid Flash grabbed at you. His lanky limbs attempting to reclaim his lost device, “Let go!”

“You let go!” You shoved his face away with the palm of your hand. 

Kid Flash merely continued to grab at the air around you, “Never!”

If this was any other situation you would have laughed. The pair of you looked like children fighting over the last dessert.  

However, this wasn't just any situation. This situation involved Flash. 

“Listen to your elders you brat!” Finally, after a well fought struggle, you managed to hold the device out of arm's reach. A much needed success after the month you've had- 

“Webs?”

You halted in your tracks.

The small communicator in your hand blinked on and off, identifying an unstable signal. 

“Webs is that you?” Flash was urgent, “Wait there! I'm coming-”

You crushed the device in your hand. Terrified.

Small fragments engraved themselves into your skin, dotting your hand red. What have you done? 

“Batman’s gonna kill you for that, you know?” Kid Flash laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

You frowned, uninterested in entertaining him. Kid Flash merely smiled awkwardly. It was evident the boy was taken aback by your unusually serious demeanor. 

The thought didn't take up much space in your mind. You could only think of one thing. When would Flash decide to appear out of thin air?

As if conjuring the hero, a red bolt flew through the mostly empty convenience store. The glass doors shook from the force. While newspapers scattered through the air, Vogue landed atop the cashier's head. 

Though he moved faster than the speed of light, he stood before you still. Unmoving. It was as if you might fade away if he got too close. 

“Webs,” His voice was laced with reverence. 

Your mouth went dry, “Flash.”

The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife, suffocating you. Maybe this was how Flash planned to get back at you for ignoring him. Slowly killing you with hypoxia. A metaphorical death pertaining to how he felt during your absence. 

“Woah, this just got really awkward.” 

Kid Flash’s voice suddenly reminded you of his presence. He swayed uncomfortably. Trapped between you and Flash.

The younger male pointed his thumbs at the door, “Should I leave…or?”

“Yes.” 

Startled at your synchronous voices, Kid Flash quickly shuffled toward the door, “Alright. See you later?”

Flash nodded his head in response, ushering his protégé away. Kid Flash couldn't leave fast enough. Magazines, once again disturbed, twirled around the ground from where he left.

You stared at the loose paper. Preferring the sight of perfume ads then whatever expression Flash held. From the corner of your eye you should see him shift. He moved with unease. Your mouth curled slightly. He never was able to stop moving for long. 

“Webs, I-”

You cut him off, “I’m sorry.”

Flash furrowed his brows in confusion, “You don’t need to apologize. It's not your fault.”

“But it is,” You clenched your teeth in frustration, “It's always been my fault.”

The taller male crossed the space between you hesitantly. You flinched when he placed his large hands on your shoulders, completely engulfing them. 

“It wasn't your fault, Webs. Nobody could have known.”

“I could have saved her,” you finally met his gaze, “I was right there.”

You saw his eyes widen slightly, clearly used to your masked form more than your real face. 

Your name spilled from his lips. 

Not just Webs - your name.

You took a shaky breath, “Barry.”

The name was foreign on your tongue. You had tried to keep your personal life separate from hero work. Though that only lasted a year. Barry managed to weasel his way into your home life before you knew it.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Barry’s hands slid from your shoulders down to your hands, caressing them softly. “Believe me when I say this,” He took a deep breath, “I’ve been in your position before. We all have.”

Breaking eye contact, your stare bore into the wall of cheap booze, “I know.”

“And I know,” He cupped your cheek, “That drinking away your problems won’t help. It only makes it worse.”

You bit your lip, “I just want to forget.”

“I know. God, I know. I want to go back and change that day every time I open my eyes,” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, “But I've been down that road before. And it's not sustainable.”

Your eyes felt hot, your throat dry, “I don’t know what to do.”

Barry pulled your smaller frame into his arms, “No one does.”

You sunk into his embrace, inhaling his scent.

“Let me take you home, Webs.”

“Okay.”

・❥・

You held tightly onto Barry, arms circling his neck, as he brought you home. You had barely enough time to blink before you were standing in front of your apartment’s door.

Barry hesitantly let you down from his hold. Though his arm stayed wrapped around your waist for support. You gave him a gentle smile as a thank you. 

Unlocking your door, you were immediately reminded of the state of your apartment. Dirty laundry and loose items scattered the floor. 

Shame crept up your neck. The uncaring attitude towards your humble abode seemingly disappeared.

Barry entered slowly, taking in the messy state. His eyes were quickly drawn to the empty bottles strewn about your floor. Unsurprisingly, he began to pick one up. Then another. And another. You snapped when he started to replace your trash bag.

“Barry.”

His head whipped toward you, only focusing on you.

“That's enough,” You tried grabbing the bag from him, “You don’t need to.”

Barry held onto the plastic tightly, “I want to.”

You shook your head, “It's my mess. Leave it.”

“No.”

You jolted in surprise at his commanding tone, “Why?”

He tossed the bag to the side, “Why?” 

Laughing dryly, he shook his head, “Why not? Why wouldn't I take care of you?”

You averted your gaze, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“But you do,” his voice was imbued with desperation, “If you didn’t, I wouldn't have spent a month doing everything in my power to find you!”

Your face felt hot, “I didn't ask you too!”

Barry closed in the space between you, “You didn't have too!”

You weren't sure when the tears began to pour down your cheeks, “I never wanted you too! I just want to be alone! Why can’t you let me be?”

“Because I can't let you be!” Barry’s hand slammed down on your tiny island counter, “You're all I think about! From the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep, all I know is you. I would rather you hate me for the rest of my life just to see you for a moment than ever ignore you.”

You felt like a deer in headlights, “What?”

“That day when Spider-Girl died,” He gripped the counter, slightly cracking it under the force, “I felt like I lost a piece of you too. And I could bear it.”

You felt like you lost your breath when Barry met your gaze again. His eyes were laced with anguish. Bloodshot rims already forming.

“I know you're hurting. I know what I am experiencing is nothing compared to what you are going through,” He searched your eyes, “But I'm in love with you! And I have been for as long as I can remember.” 

The start of a cry made his voice waver, “And this is definitely poor timing for a confession, but I can’t lose you-”

You weren't exactly sure which one of your muscles was still intact enough for you to move. However, the feeling of plush lips against your own thwarted any other thought.

Barry stood rigid for a moment. Hands clenched at his sides. Then, he dominated the kiss like his life depended on it. His hands held onto your waist tightly, before slowly making their way to your face. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this happy.

Pulling away, you took shallow breaths, “I love you.”

Barry smiled and swiped a loose teardrop from your cheek, “I love you too.”

The warm moment didn't last long. Your mind was quick to remind you that there was a reason Barry had to confess in a messy studio apartment rather than someplace special. That reason was because you were broken.

You pressed you mouth into a thin line, “Do you still want me even if-”

“I want you no matter what,” Barry didn’t allow you to get another word in, “We can go through this together.”

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “You're not alone, Webs. You never were.”

You swallowed hard, “Together?”

"Together."

・❥・

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

The Brutality (and some censoring) Of The Rumbar Deaths.

Similar to my piece on Yorki and his lil sickness, this is again just something that haunts me constantly and is honestly something I don’t see anyone else talking about. Maybe this is because I have Rumbar Pirates autism. The deaths of the Rumbar Pirates are often thought to just be the snippet we see during their final moments, however Oda paints a much darker picture, with such dark hues the anime had to censor some of this. More than just Binks Sake happened to these men.

To begin, I am going to introduce you all to a certain Rumbar Pirate. Pirates.

This is Madaisuki! He has a twin brother named Madawadasuki Mizuta!

These Mizuta boys are named this because they are the japanese pun of “I love DOTS!” and “Dots ain’t half bad!” We know they were young, and that they wanted to be just like Brook. (I will go over these statements a bit later.) They wore matching clothing, mirroring one another as some twins do, having a tight bond. We already know their candles were snuffed out too short, but do you know how this happened to each? Madawadasuki is shown in the Bink’s Sake flashback, blood pooling on his temple and matting some of his hair. He looks tired, but with a smile, plays on with the other remaining crew. That is the key word here, remaining. There were hundreds of men on this ship yet THIS is what we see surrounding Brook on the deck? Where are the rest. THAT is where Madaisuki comes in. 

Madaisuki does not die on screen, but his body, just the body, is gruesome enough that the anime had to censor it. When we find the young man, he is in one of the off rooms, looks to be the dining area, thrown onto the floor with his arms outstretched, with his hair still attached to the skull.

This is not the reason behind the censoring, no, the reason is the cause of death.

Plunged into his skull and back, pinning his body to the floor with his jaw still open, are his own weapons. His own swords pin his body to the floor, so even if he somehow survived the attack, he could not get up, however with your own blade through your brain case and into the blood spattered floor below you, that is not much of an option. Those swords.. they also are made to mirror YORKI’S. They both wanted to be just like their Captains.

[ more info on Maddy here ]

This leaves a few things open for the reader to take in. Why is he tucked away in an off room like this? Well, it means the battle either continued into these rooms, not just on deck, which is more than likely shown by the shattered mirrors and doors in the bedrooms and hallways we see, or poor Madaisuki was cornered, overpowered, and butchered.

In any case, this means his brother either also saw this and continued to smile and sing for Laboon, or held a hope that somehow, his twin was just somewhere else, tucked away to die in peace. How many other men died this way, for we see bedroom doors torn off hinges and blood spattering the walls.

Time doesn’t do that, a butchering does.

This is just one body, one upon hundreds, we know this because of a line Franky states so casually I am unsure if the anime added it; “We could not carry them all, we buried them here. The weight was too much for the Sunny to take.”

The weight was too much for the Sunny to take.

How many men died, because those multiple upon multiple coffins were not filled with bodies, but skulls. Only skulls.

If the ship cannot carry it, how do we expect BROOK?? He must hold grief for he was acting Captian, these things on his head alone, and knowing he failed his partner, my god, that must ache. To know you created widows, fatherless children, families who will never know if their little boys or men or partners or fathers would come home. No closure, only Brook, and the poison that caused the remaining light-hearted musicians to bleed out in their little heap.

When Brook picks up the skull of Madaisuki, a memory comes to mind. Perhaps not a recent one, for he knew them for many years, but one that stood out to him. One Oda chose for us to see as a representation of Brook’s thoughts;

“You’re awesome, Brook! Can you teach me to swordfight like you?”

We see the body, with his own weapons used against him, holding his corpse in place with a hole blasted through his brain. His polka dots he adored are spattered as well, torn where his ribcage was cut open. Brook failed him. He failed them all, in his eyes, not the viewer or actuality. And this breaks my heart.

Update 1.0

Absolutely I think he does have his.. odd crew moments/interactions.

Sanji at the right angle, asking for something and the response is a slip up of “yes, my Captain!” In such a tone that Sanji could mistake himself as more than a crewmate in Brook’s eyes.

Somedays they finds the skeleton speaking to himself, small quolms or questions, asking to an invisible force in silence.

“John, how did you make your coffee again?”

“Madaisuki, how do you do this..?”

Some nights, he’s found over the beds, absent in all human aspects but dead, mute and upsettingly still.

When Usopp asks, after minutes of motionless, creeping anxiety, why does he just stand, why does he watch?

“I want to make sure you’re breathing! It means you’re real.”

[written-and-readen]

Not So Secret Relationship

Dan Heng x reader

Summary: March finally finds out you and Dan Heng are dating.

It had started out as merely wanting to keep your relationship private. March asked many questions, and you both weren’t ready for the barrage that would follow once you announced you were dating. You figured it would be better for her too. March wouldn’t appreciate being a third wheel, right?

Everyone else knew for sure. Himeko and Welt shared knowing looks and small smiles at noticing the way you two sat shoulder to shoulder in the parlor car, leaning slightly into each other. You hadn’t known the Trailblazer was such a night owl until they’d caught you sneaking into the archives deep into the night. Even Pom-Pom was aware, rolling their eyes at the way Dan Heng’s gaze melted whenever he looked at you. Maybe they got a kick out of March’s obliviousness too. They certainly hadn’t dropped any hints.

Eventually it became a little game to see how long you and Dan Heng could keep your brief touches and fleeting kisses out of her notice. Dan Heng wasn’t really one for public displays of affection, so it was pretty easy for him. On the other hand, you liked to play it a little risky. That would be your downfall.

“And then it possessed the food stall owner right when I was about to get my tuskpir wrap!” You’re hanging out with March and Dan Heng in the parlor car as she rambles on about the recent heliobi encounter she and the Trailblazer had on the Luofu, standing up and gesturing wildly. You feel something gently nudge your hand lying on the cushion of the sofa. A glance tells you it’s your boyfriend, and your hand slips into his.

“And then, he attacked us!” Dan Heng gives you a small smile as March is set on reenacting the battle right in front of you. In response, you lift your interlaced hands, placing a quick kiss on the back of his. The soft blush that crosses his face makes your heart skip a beat.

You catch his eyes dart over to March who is still mimicking shooting her bow towards the Express windows yet yours remain trained on his pretty face. He raises an eyebrow when he catches you watching him so intently. You don’t give him a second to think about what you’re up to before you lean closer, lips brushing against his in a ghost of a kiss.

As you pull away, you feel him lean towards you, chasing you. You smirk when you also see the slightly unfocused look in his eyes after you rattle him. A hand firmly lands on your waist, almost as if to say “You’re not getting away that easily” as it keeps you in place. And then, Dan Heng is kissing you—a real kiss. Your heart leaps at his sudden boldness and you can feel the heat on his cheeks as your thumb brushes over them and—

“What the heck?!” Both of you immediately turn to see a flabbergasted March. “This is a prank, right? I'm not sure what kind, but you guys know I don't like being pranked!”

“I guess it’s about time we told you, March,” Dan Heng said, “We’re dating. We have been for some time.”

“How could you not tell me?” The girl pouts, “I would have been supportive I promise!”

“We just wanted to keep it low key,” You reply.

“Says the couple who was sucking face in the parlor car,” March retorts, “Just wait until the others hear about this! Himeko! Mr. Yang!” You watch her run off excitedly to report her new discovery.

“So much for keeping it low key,” Dan Heng sighs at her actions.

“She had to find out eventually.” You take his hand in yours again. “Anyways, we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” You smile, pressing into his side. He takes the hint and captures your lips with his, making your grin wider. Secret or not, you would never get tired of this.

[allfortheslay25]

Any sweet bonding moments between Neil and Milo?

Milo’s Future spoilers!

Have a crumb of one of my favorite Neil and Milo bonding moments :)

Chapter snippet/draft:

The drive to an abandoned lot shouldn’t have made Neil as nervous as he felt. Andrew had been cryptic about why he expected the two Jostens to meet him there, and this was the first alone time the two have had since their talk. Neil glanced over to Milo, silent and tense in the passenger. He kept his face pressed against the window, blond curls fluffing over his eyebrows as he stiffly folded his arms over his lap. Neil had been horribly surprised by the color change. Andrew and the rest of the Foxes tried to convince him to let it go. Milo was a teenager now and teens experimented all the time.

It’s his body. Andrew had told him. He won’t want you telling him he can’t do what he wants with it.

So Neil let the matter drop. Until a week later when he showed up home with pierced ears. Neil put his foot down and calmly—maybe slightly loudly—told Milo he wasn’t allowed to make any more of these ‘changes’ with his body. The conversation didn’t last long civilly. Some things were said and some people—not that Neil was naming Milo—broke a kitchen chair.

Neil sighed deeply. He didn’t know if he preferred Milo’s outbursts or his silence. When Milo went nonverbal, it was almost as if he was ceasing to exist. Neil never could tell if he was eating, doing his homework, volunteering at the cat shelter, or even breathing anymore. He was a ghost in their house.

Once the lot came into view, Neil parked and searched for his phone. He was checking the backseat when the car shook with the force of the slamming door. Neil sat up and furrowed his brow at Milo who leaned against the Mas in silence. Neil went back to searching when it began to ring and call out to him under his seat.

When the phone was in hand, Neil flipped it open and answered Andrew.

“We’re here.” Neil said, glancing at Milo. The boy had grown tall, standing at a good 5’9 without a means to stop there. Neil hoped this growth spurt would finalize before he was fifteen, he didn’t think he could take Milo gaining a couple inches more.

“I’m pulling up.” Andrew replied and clicked on him before Neil could ask what he meant.

The answer came to Neil when a steel gray Camaro came speeding into the lot. The car was brand new with features sharper than a knife. Neil knew nothing about cars other than what they looked like and which ones he had used to get away back in the day. One look from this car told Neil it was fast, probably faster than the Mas.

Milo was standing in front of it now in confusion, watching as Andrew got out, leaving it running. Neil couldn’t hear what they were saying when Andrew tossed Milo the keys, the boy beginning to grin ear to ear. Neil rolled the window down quickly just as Milo flung himself at Andrew and hugged him.

“You bought him a car!?” He exclaimed.

Milo was giddily checking out the inside of the Camaro now, adjusting the seat and mirrors to his liking. Andrew watched him with a nonchalant expression, but Neil knew Andrew by now to know he was avoiding him.

“Andrew.” Neil called.

The man faced him then. He held Neil’s eyes before clicking his tongue and shuffling over to him. Neil glared as he leaned against the window, trying to seem guiltless.

Andrew watched Neil before flicking him on the chin. “Don’t give me that look, Rabbit.” Neil was not giving him a look, Andrew was just being insufferable right now. “I taught him to drive.” He defended, putting his hand in his pocket.

Neil glanced at the hand, understanding Andrew’s childish expression of restraint. Neil wouldn’t let him try to soften him up anyway. He stared Andrew down until the blond lost the battle.

He admitted dryly, “He’s been in a mood.”

“That doesn’t mean you buy him a car.” Neil hissed.

“You bought me a car when I was in a mood.”

“I didn’t do it because you were in a mood—”

“Hey, Dad!” Milo called, pulling the Camaro in beside the Maserati so Andrew was sandwiched in the middle. His eyes shimmered with a fire that wasn’t his usual anger and bitterness but something all the more contagious.

The Camaro roared at the Mas and Neil felt the unspoken words boil the blood under his flesh. He gripped the steering wheel and felt a grin of his own pulling at his face.

“Drew,” Neil began, taking the Maserati out of park. Milo pressed on the gas, revving the engine in anticipation. “We’ll be back soon.”

Neil didn’t bother glancing at Andrew’s confused glance before he was speeding after Milo’s Camaro, a few steps ahead of the Maserati.

They pushed the cars as far as they could, Neil taking a few seconds to watch Milo as the boy laughed, but then he’d leave Neil in the dust again. The race had them dangerously navigating the streets as they bobbed and weaved through cars. Neil at one point drifted loudly through a gas station just to catch up, almost crashing into the steel Camaro before Milo swerved away, laughing loud into the wind. By the time they were driving back to the lot, Neil could tell he was truly beat. The Maserati was a decade too old to keep up and Milo drove like Andrew did; wild and unbothered by attention or danger.

They both came to a screeching end in the positions they had before they left. Andrew hadn’t moved from his spot and was staring at the two of them in disbelief.

“What the fuck?”

Neil glanced at Milo in time to laugh alongside him. Milo smiled wide, his face glowing as his pupils dilated from the high boost of adrenaline. If not for his hands stiffly glued to the wheel, he was sure he’d float away from the high he was riding right now.

Andrew leaned into the window. Neil grinned at the want burning in his lover’s eyes. Andrew looked close to kissing him right here and then. Instead, he pushed Neil’s face away.

“Don’t leave me behind next time, asshole.”

Neil couldn’t stop smiling. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Milo moved out of the Camaro to come by the two of them. “Well, Dad, I won. How does it feel to come in second place?”

“Sassy little shit.” Neil muttered.

Milo put a hand around his ear. “Sorry? I didn’t hear that. I think I’d have to stoop to your level to communicate.”

“You only won because your car is new.”

Milo smirked, as if waiting for Neil to say just that. He tossed his keys onto his lap.

“You’re about to eat those words.” Milo said.

Neil snatched them up, getting out of the Maserati and pulling Andrew alongside him into the Camaro. When both of them were situated, they stared the other down.

“Ready to be bested again?” Milo taunted.

“Focus on the road.” Neil replied. And then they were off.

They raced a total of 10 times. 6 - 4 Milo’s favor. Milo proceeded to race Andrew three more times afterward, getting his ass handed to him each time. He was incapable of matching Andrew’s reckless energy.

The end

[cranberryjuice-posts]

I loved your stories with Clarisse. I wanted to know if I could do one where Reader is a daughter of Nemesis. Normally very quiet and "calm", to the point that many don't understand how she and Clarisse work out. But one day, some campers set up an ambush for Clarisse in the capture the flag and she ends up getting hurt. Even though Clarisse doesn't care much, Reader comes up with a plan worthy of Annabeth's surprise, and takes revenge on the campers who hurt her girlfriend. Everyone knew it was her, but there was no concrete proof so she gets away with it.

RAHH‼️‼️

I’m not your friend

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Daughter of nemesis! Reader

An - im Actually loving all these request also i didnt add much of the song to the fic bc low-key i forgot that was the song I choose but it’s ok I’m just a girl

Palestine help links

The conch shell rang loudly. You looked up and sighed, finishing tying your shoes you grabbed your weapon of choice before heading towards your spot at flag patrol.

Clarisse ran past you but stopped. She gently grabbed your waist, kissing you she grinned. “Feel like a winning day?”

“Maybe” You mumbled with a smile. Clarisse kissed you one last time for ‘good luck’ before she ran off to do some hunting.

Many campers were confused about your relationshp. Clarisse who was an arrogant and abrasive girl who had to much pride for her own good, managed to end up dating you a calm collected and quiet daughter of nemesis. Some figured your gentle nature just happened to balance out clarisse chaotic one.

——

You aimlessly walked in circles around the flag with the other kid who was patrolling with you doing the same. You stepped on a twig which made a loud snap, you felt an over whelming sense of anxiety. Your kiss earlier for good luck had also connected you and clarisse both in battle a gift you had inherited from your mother.

You grabbed your weapon that was sitting on a near by rock quickly. “Where are you going!” The kid who was patrolling with you yelled as you ran off.

Soon you found clarisse sitting against a tree wincing in pain as her sibling was adjusting her arm into a sling.

“What happened” You anxiously dropped by clarisse moving some curls out of her face. “Fucking Athena kid made some dumbass trap” clarisse nodded her head as a signal for her siblings, they moved her arm fast making her yell a string of insults in Greek. After a few minutes she panted as the pain subsided “Sprained my arm but it’s fine, i can still fight”

“No Your not” You sternly spoke.

“It’s whatever just a sprained arm I’ll live, can’t say the same for that Athena bitch though” clarisse muttered under her breath.

You looked up at her siblings and gave them a look which they understood was ‘don’t let her leave from here’. The kids looked at eachother but kept quiet, you leaned over and kissed clarisse. “Stay here ok.. 20 minutes and if I win the game you will take a break for a few days ok”

Clarisse grinned at the bet “and if you don’t?”

“You’ll get my meats for the next month”

“Fine”

——

You spent the next ten minutes getting caught. You get caught then you had the advantage in setting your trap.

Luke tossed you down with a small pile of kids one of which was your brother Ethan. You pretended to be sad and dissaptioned using your clean record charm to your advantage.

“Sorry y/n It’s Nothing Personal Just fun and games” Luke gave you his same old sarcastic smile.

“No it’s ok I get it” you shrugged your shoulders. Waiting for him to walk away you turned to Ethan. “You set the ropes right?” You leaned over and whispered

“Yeah did everything like you asked” he muttered while glaring up at the blue team kid who’s as standing guard over the captured kids.

It took about 10 minutes until you heard a loud commotion, with that you had knocked out the solider standing guard stole the flag and ran off to the lakes shore.

——

The final conch rang signaling your teams victory. Clarisse rolled her eyes as she walked over towards you shaking her head at your dumb sarcastic grin. As your group celebrated, the blue team walked over with Chiron in tow.

“Her fucking y/n she’s the one who set up that damn trap” Liam a Hermes kid pointed at you accusingly you however remained innioncent.

“What trap?” You played it off.

“Oh you little—“ liam started to get into your face but clarisse immeaditly stepped in. Chiron however put his arm inbetween the two to keep things cordial.

“How about you tell me what the trap was” the centaur looked down at the angry kid. He had been scuffed up pretty bad with a few bleeding cuts of his own.

“It was a Large rope scheme, we stepped into our safe zone and boom a loud explosion of green fire went off before we could leave more went off getting practically all of our team surrounded in Greek fire, then once we got free half of us were swept up into the tree upside down by that point the flag had been taken and now we’re here and I know it was y/n because… well I can’t actually prove it but I know it was her!” 

You kept your innocent appearance with a small smile still denying the accusations.

“I’m sorry Liam but if there’s no solid proof I can’t do anything, as far as I see y/n is innocent” Chiron sighed while setting a comforting arm on his shoulder. The kid scoffed and stormed away, as everybody cleared off you smiled at clarisse giving her a kiss. “So about the bet” you grinned.

“Shut up” she laughed but kissed you back. In the corner of your eye you saw annabeth chase of all people walking over to you.

She stopped infront of you with a serious expression. You raised an eyebrow confused but waited for her to speak. “I know you set that trap, and I know you made sure not to leave an evidence you did it. Next time you wont be so lucky” she crossed her arms, you knew annabeth was a force to be reckoned with and crossing her was a bad idea. “But you have my respect that was a good trick you pulled today. Enjoy your celebratory dinner” she sighed before walking away.

You looked back at clarisse for a moment. You smiled wide at her laughing at her pretend agitated face at the fact you had won and clarisse ultimate lost.

“You know” clarisse started while walking back to the dining hall with you. “It’s kinda hot how you managed to fuck up a bunch of kids just because I got hurt, don’t tell me your over protective”

“Shut up clarisse”

Clarisse - this is bullshit

Y/n - you lost now you have to rest for a week

Clarisse - again this is bull shit

———

[charlotteharlatan]

Do you ever think about what would have happened if Mary Hodges (formerly Mary Loquacious) hadn’t interrupted Crowley and Aziraphale’s “intimate moment”?

Because I do. I think about it a lot.

First off, the way that this shot is set up is perfect. Mary - Mary who had a key role in the whole “Antichrist shuffle” fiasco, and who is a walking reminder of the approaching apocalypse that will separate Aziraphale and Crowley - is literally coming between them. The show is full of these beautifully simple, yet easy-to-miss moments that only last a few frames.

Now, on its surface, this part of the scene mostly plays as humorous because Crowley and Aziraphale are sexless-by-default, non-human entities who just happen to come across to most humans as a very aesthetic queer couple. So naturally, Mary makes the same assumption as every other human that so much as glances in their direction, and isn’t that a laugh?

Except that…she’s not actually wrong about it being an intimate moment. Not just in the physical sense, although I think this is the closest we see them physically get in the whole first season (not counting being literally inside each other’s corporations, I suppose).

But it’s intimate in the emotional sense too, because Crowley is worried and stressed about having lost the Antichrist, and now on top of everything else he’s got Aziraphale calling him “nice” and poking at some very old wounds (if he’s so “nice” then why did he Fall?). And Crowley is also probably *frightened* - they’re inside a former Satanic convent that kept regular contact with not just Crowley himself, but also Hastur, and probably other demons too. For all Crowley knows, someone from his side could still be lurking about; they could overhear and get them both in big trouble.

And as if all that weren’t enough, I don’t think I’m imagining a healthy dose of frustration with Aziraphale in the mix either. Just a few minutes prior, the angel essentially tempted Crowley into miracling the paint stain out of his coat, and then broke their rules by saying “thank you” for it. Aziraphale has spent at least the last few centuries sending him some very mixed signals and we can see that Crowley is done with them dancing around each other. That game was more or less fine before, they had time, all the time in the world. But now, in just a few days, all the time in the world will be ENDING. And yet here’s Aziraphale, playing the same game as always, acting like nothing between them has changed, even though they both know better.

So yeah, it all comes to a head in that moment, and Crowley (sort of understandably) loses it a bit. He won’t actually hurt Aziraphale and they both know that, but he has to get across to the angel SOMEHOW that he’s experiencing some Big Feelings. And he doesn’t have a whole lot of options as to how to do that. He’s too worked up to communicate effectively. So he goes with the wall slam. This causes an emotionally charged situation which we’re primed to think will have an emotional payoff - the camera pulls in close, a dramatic transition, drawing us in to the tension of the moment right along with Crowley and Aziraphale.

And then there’s Aziraphale, who…doesn’t defend himself at all. Aziraphale, who is kind but far from defenseless, who used to guard the gate of Eden with a flaming sword, who was supposed to fight in a platoon of angels in the final battle. He’s no pushover, and yet he lets himself get literally pushed over. It doesn’t even seem to occur to him to stop Crowley, not even as he’s wrinkling his precious coat.

And maybe this is just my read of this scene, but Aziraphale’s reaction to Crowley coming into his personal space is interesting in and of itself. He doesn’t act as if this is the first instance of Crowley being that close to him - and it is CLOSE. Their lips are centimeters apart. Their noses are touching.

And one might well say that all of it happens so fast that Aziraphale is caught off guard and freezes up, but as so many have already pointed out about this scene, just after Mary interrupts he looks…blatantly longing, and then more than a bit put out.

And after Crowley lets him go, he casually fixes his clothes and goes straight back to bickering. Which may be partially a defense mechanism, because they don’t have time to talk about what just happened, there clearly won’t be any emotional resolution right now. But really, wouldn’t “you go too fast for me” Aziraphale be more rattled if that were truly the first time they had crossed that physical boundary and shared space like this? He looks affected, certainly, but quickly shakes it off.

And, to take it one step further: Aziraphale knows Crowley. He knows what words are likely to set him off. He has an established pattern of having Crowley do things for him, based on Aziraphale’s own prompting (see also: wordlessly asking Crowley to help Hamlet become a hit). Aziraphale does as much tempting to get Crowley to do “nice” things as Crowley does to get him to do “naughty” things. All of which is to say, Aziraphale may have actually been baiting Crowley here, but the bait is just a little too effective, and Aziraphale isn’t fully prepared for the intensity of the response he gets. But there’s a strong case to be made that by calling the demon “nice,” he’s looking to get a specific reaction out of Crowley. Again, not the healthiest form of communication, but it’s what they have in this context, because honesty would be too dangerous.

Which brings me back to my point: it IS an intimate moment, in more ways than Mary could have possibly realized, and what if she hadn’t walked in on them? How would Crowley have finished his sentence that got cut off, and how would Aziraphale have responded to it, to Crowley’s outburst of emotion, or to their proximity?

Maybe he would have gently and politely pushed Crowley away - but to me, something about his expression and body language says he wouldn’t have. Because Aziraphale is tired of dancing around this too, actually, and in the heat of the moment, he may just have closed the distance. Especially if they’ve had “intimate moments” before this one.

And between you and me, I think they did, and I think it was after Crowley saved Aziraphale and his books during the Blitz. It’s a solid explanation for the increased tension between them in the holy water scene.

Anyway. This meta has been sitting in my drafts since before the first trailer came out, S2 is only nine days away, and I’m clearly very normal about all of this.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you do a scenario about Nemona, Penny and Arven with a real who has type null please? Maybe something about it transforming in Silvally?

YES NULL/SILVALLY TIME

I have one in Sword who I call "Bestie", and it's carried me through the Crown Tundra DLC. I want it in Violet so badly aaaa

Also this just reminded me of my fic that I wrote prior to Sun/Moon's release. Ya'll can give it a read if you so desire <3

That being said, this scenario will be like a sequel of sorts

........

Revealing Type: Null--or "Nully" as you've affectionately called it--to your friends was something you were initially nervous about...

But today was finally the day.

Moving away from Alola to attend school here in Paldea was quite the stressful journey, especially for your masked companion who had never know any place besides stark white labs and sandy beaches.

People kept warning you about how dangerous it was, but you never listened...and now your bond with the mysterious normal type has never been stronger.

Ever since you rescued it from an Aether Foundation facility that exploded due to its rampage, it put its trust in you and loved you unconditionally.

Learning the truth behind that supposedly "good" organization and its leader broke your heart. Although nothing devastated you more than realizing Nully had been held captive there as both experiment and prisoner.

You've tried researching its species, checking for notes and hacking into secret files the foundation kept under lock and key--and you discovered that Type: Nulls were basically created as "tamer" versions of Arceus, even having memory discs similar to the plates manufactured. They were meant to kill the Ultra Beasts should they invade Alola.

Instead, they went on a rampage (of course, that's what happens when humans try replicating a god's powers) and were confined to masks and put into cryogenic stasis. The whole project was deemed a failure.

As tragic as it was...you were relieved to have found Nully when you did and get it away from that horrible place.

Even so the mask still made it feel absolutely miserable, but unfortunately you couldn't find any further information on how to remove it without causing your precious Pokémon serious injury. There were no visible clamps to unlock, pulling it off would only cause it great pain, and cutting seemed too risky.

The only benefit was that it made Nully immune to critical hits, but the cons definitely outweighed the pros.

Maybe one of your friends knew more about the Type: Null species, and so you decided to call them all over for a picnic if they had free time.

All you could do was pray that they didn't lose their cool and scare your companion.

That's the last thing either of you needed.

Arven was the first to arrive, with Mabosstiff at his heels as usual, but he stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing the bizarre-looking Pokémon standing by your side. You could tell he was trying not to look too worried, considering the poor thing was hiding behind you now.

Still, it's obvious that he didn't have the slightest clue what he was looking at, so you explained everything to him: where you found Nully, why it looked like a rejected Arceus, and the memory discs you kept in a small folder.

So far, you haven't figured out how to utilize them in-battle. But despite the space they took up in your bag, you refused to throw them away.

"Are you sure there isn't a slot for these somewhere on its mask?" He stared at one of the floppy discs, before glancing back up at Nully, squinting. "It looks like there should be one."

"We've been pals for nearly three years, Arven..I'm pretty sure I would've found the slot by now if there was one." Shaking your head, you took it from him, sighing. "My only option is to get that thing off. The slot's probably on its body somewhere."

"Right...maybe there's a stomach hatch or-"

"¡Mira! You were right, Penny! They do exist!!"

"Nemona, slow down!! They're not going anywhere!!"

Hearing the shouts of two certain ladies from afar, you and Arven looked to see both Nemona and Penny coming over the horizon. The student council president was dragging the poor girl by the arm, with her stumbling to keep up and not lose her glasses.

When they arrived, Penny was dazed and annoyed as she scowled at Nemona, tearing her arm free of her iron grasp. But her attention was quickly set on the peculiar Pokémon who was cowering behind you yet again.

"Wow...I..never thought I'd see one up close before.." Adjusting her glasses, she gazed at Nully with interest.

"You've heard about them before?" You asked.

"Back in Galar, I found some top-secret stuff about Macro Cosmos trying to make their own instances. They literally stole the blueprints from the Aether Foundation."

"...yikes." Nemona remarked, tilting her head as she tried getting a better look at Nully herself. "It seems shy. Maybe a battle will help it-!"

"No battles, at least not right now." You smiled apologetically, patting it on the head as you looked at each other. "I know you're nervous, Nully..but it's okay. They're nothing like the jerks back in Alola who used to pick on us. They're my friends. You can trust them, I promise."

Nodding its head, it relaxed its haunches as it cautiously stepped away from your side, gazing at the trio and seeing their smiles, too.

They weren't looks of pity.

They seemed genuinely thrilled to meet it.

It stood there for some time, taking in everything you've said to it and thinking about how far it's come since you rescued it that fateful day.

Somehow, it knew it was always meant to be your companion--from the very moment you held it as it cried in the Pokémon Center, reassuring it that it's not a monster, but a sweet creature worthy of love and care.

Ever since then, your friendship has grew...and now it feels stronger, willing to put its life on the line for you if need be. Even though most of its powers have been concealed, it didn't feel like some weak and helpless lab experiment.

Oh no.

It was far from that now.

Thanks to your bond, it felt unbelievably strong.

So much so that....the normal-type realized an extraordinary change was imminent.

And you were about to witness it.

"Look! Nully's glowing, [y/n]!" Nemona pointed, her eyes widening as your companion was basked in a familiar light. "Is it evolving???"

"Oh my god...I think so." You gasped, never realizing the possibility of it evolving, but you're now certain that friendship is what triggered it at last.

The most noticeable thing were the cracks that started appearing all over its helmet, pieces of what you assumed was indestructible alien material falling apart. Nully shook its head vigorously, trying to get rid of it as much as possible.

Then it turned its attention to a nearby boulder, letting out a cry before performing a move similar to a Headbutt, ramming into it and letting the rock shatter the helmet completely.

At last, it was free.

When the glow faded, you and your friends gazed in awe as Nully looked back at all of you.

With its mask finally gone, what lied underneath it was a beautiful creature made of both nature and machine, with a beaklike mouth that smiled proudly.

"Nully...?" You murmured, stepping closer.

"Ally." It chirped, walking up to greet you.

Tears began forming in your eyes as your grin widened. "I can't believe it...friendship was all it took to-"

Suddenly, your rotomphone decided to ruin the sweet moment by flying out of your pocket.

It displayed a new entry in your Pokedex, and you grabbed it to read what it had to say, while Arven, Penny, and Nemona checked their own phones.

"I see, you're Silvally now." You gazed back up at Null--Silvally, watching it bow its head respectfully. With a small laugh, you mimicked the gesture, before petting it lovingly as you sighed. "Wow..."

You noticed one of the metal bolts on its face open up like a CD player, indicating that something had to go in there-

"Wait.." Remembering the memory discs, you took one out and held it up. "Do you want me to use this?"

Silvally nodded, although before you could do anything, Arven interjected.

"Hold on, which memory is that?"

"The Dark Memory. It probably just changes its type, but I believe this represents all the pain Silvally had to endure while being trapped in that mask, not knowing what it did wrong or why people shunned it for simply existing." You placed a gentle hand under your companion's jaw. "But now I think it's ready to turn that painful memory into power. So let's see what happens.."

"Silllllv!"

Carefully inserting the disc into the open slot, you watched as it closed up. Then you stepped back, seeing the colors and spikes on its body turn smoky black.

Even its eyes changed, and when they opened they looked even more menacing than ever.

And they stared directly at you.

With a low growl, it crept closer to you, while your friends held back..tense and worried that the pokedex entries were correct: this wasn't something you could so easily control.

There was probably a very good reason for the mask-

Yet any hostility Silvally seemingly expressed disappeared, as it smiled and licked your cheek affectionately, causing you to laugh once more. "Hey, that tickles! C'mere you!"

Hugging its neck, you grinned as you received even more kisses, hearing it purr with happiness. You petted its feathery crest, relieved that it completely trusted you now.

"Wow..it's way cooler than Arceus!" Nemona laughed. "Do you think I can battle it-??"

Silvally just shot her a wary look, and she immediately fell silent, a nervous smile on her face. "Haha, you're right. Not yet. But I swear we're gonna have an epic battle one day!"

"Yeah, one day. But for now, I have something special for this big guy."

"Sill?"

You managed to regain its full attention with a simple yet supereffective move of your very own:

It's called "chin scritches", something that none of your other Pokémon could resist receiving.

The mask obviously made it difficult for Silvally to receive proper affection back then...and you vowed to find a way to break it so you can do just that.

Now it was free of that awful and heavy thing, having a brand new life to look forward to: battles, friendships with other Pokémon, and more.

Even better?

Your three closest friends in all of Paldea were here to witness its evolution--a sign that despite all the odds...your bond was unbreakable.

[slowlysoluminary]

Reset AU ... mirror room art piece and a supplemental from ghostloop's pov 🎉

Writing under the cut! (Lots of words... oops!!!!!!!)

(Venturing through the house has been nothing short of a terror.)

(The sadnesses littering the area are NOT helping!)

(Granted, you know how to fight - you have each sadness' type memorized, each name and gimmick on lock - but your craft...)

(You're not sure what Craft type you are. You're corporeal enough for your hits to connect, but not corporeal enough for attacks to land on you. Harder still, considering the craft types are all equally as easy for you to summon.)

(Maybe "easy for you to summon" is poor phrasing. Your attacks feel wrong. Unfamiliar.)

(Your Piercing Craft likes to trail, not unlike the rest of your body. You struggle the least with Scissors-type attacks, but it feels like something fundamental is missing in each of your strikes.)

(Your Creative Craft leaves after-images. You thought you were Paper craft for a good while, but you're clumsy with it - like it wasn't made with your body in mind.)

(Your Protector's Craft sparks like energy through your fist. Something pangs at your chest each time you form the handshape.)

(Your attacks are strange. Craft personalizes itself to its user, but for such attuned craft to be so alien....)

(Thinking about it gives you a weird headache.)

(So you won't!!)

(You watch Siffrin fight. He made you sit out of battle after that time you downed yourself. Impeccable aim, Loop!!)

(... They never win, but you figure you should respect their wishes regardless.)

(You feel Experienced. Like these sadnesses would wither away if you poked them too hard. They probably would, if you could land a hit in the first place!)

(You can't help but compare the way he fights with the way you fight. Or, the way you think you should.)

(Like his name, like the House, like everything else, it's all familiar. You fight the same way as him, but your craft makes it difficult to do so comfortably.)

(You can't help but be envious. Why are you envious?)

(The style isn't even yours! You're pretty sure it's adapted from his, even!!)

(Nothing is your own. Not even your body is safe!!! Your skin prickles when you look down. Stars dance across your form naturally, yet it feels unnatural all the same.)

(Stars, are you going crazy? You think you're going crazy!)

(Siffrin shifts next to you, walking comfortably in your silence. You lead the way to the next door.)

("Why Stardust?" They asked you that, before. At least, you think they did? What did you respond with? Something about what's left...?)

(... You don't know. Just, seeing him, talking to him - he's Stardust! So, you must be Loop.)

(It found you so easily in your sea of muddled memories. It must be what the Universe willed!)

(But you still don't know. But you still can't remember. What's wrong with you?)

"Finally, third floor..."

(Siffrin turns a key. You're climbing the House. Right.)

(You smile. Is it forced? You're not sure. The gesture reminds you of something.)

>"Awh, good job, Stardust! It only took you... ehm...."

>"20 Loops! That's great! A bit worse than me, but who's keeping track, right?"

"'A bit worse than you?' Did you remember something?"

("A bit worse than you?")

>"What? I didn't say anything."

(You didn't. Did you?)

(Siffrin makes a noise. They're looking at you funny.)

"Nevermind."

(O~kay. Weird.)

...

(The King sobs.)

(They talk to you about him. A lot more than you want them to, if you're being honest.)

(Hearing his name, his likeness, to be spoken of so fondly - you feel rage. A deep and primal anger you're sure you've never felt before and will never feel again.)

(So, yes! Hearing the King sob the whole time like he's not actively dooming an entire blinding country has done wonders on your psyche! The reminder of his existence fills you with such joy and whimsy!)

(Your smile is pulled so taut you think it would tear at your skin, if you had any.)

(Siffrin's expression is plagued with sympathy. Something in your core stirs violently at the thought.)

>"Chin up, soldier~! One more floor to climb!"

(The sympathetic look fades, but you don't feel any better. You don't think about the implications.)

"... Right. One more floor."

>"I hope all this effort was worth it!"

"Ditto. Even if I can't snap some sense into him, I just..."

"I want to talk. I've told you about it before, but-"

(stop don't talk about him no no no no)

>"STARdust! Surely there's no need to go over everything again!"

>"You might be forgetful, but helpful Loop here already knows the ins and outs of your fool-proof plan~!!"

>"You've told me about it, you continue to tell me about it, you don't stop telling me about it — I GET IT ALREADY!"

>"Just. We'll. We'll get to it when we get to it, right? Please."

(you're not sure why)

(but the thought of talking to the king fills your entire being with sickness)

(Too bad you can't throw up! Teehee!!)

(Siffrin looks pained.)

"Right, I'll just -- I'm."

"I'm sorry..."

(Oh.)

(His voice is so tender. So quiet.)

(You ruined it.)

(That's fine. You don't -- you don't need the ability anyway. You can make your way through the house on your own. You don't need them to get stronger. It's fine.)

(...)

(What were you thinking about? It doesn't matter.)

>"So~! That out of the way."

(This time you ignore the King wailing above you.)

>"Where do we go?"

(His face is hidden from you, beneath the brim of his hat. You have a fun time thinking about the expression under it!)

(Is it twisted in frustration? Appalled? Mortified? Betrayed?)

(You know those faces like the back of your hand, but the specifics amalgam in your head, a foggy mass of uncertainty.)

(You feel a tingle on your cheek.)

(... Yes, fun! What fun!)

(Siffrin clears their throat.)

"... You've been leading me through most of the House, Loop."

"So I thought you would know where to go?"

(You have?)

>"I have?"

"Yes?????"

(What????)

>"No I haven't."

"Yes? You have??"

(He looks offended???)

"The rock trap? The key I missed in the Head Housemaiden's office?"

>"'Fraid you're not ringing any bells!!"

(Conversations are one of the only things you remember. Everything else blends together.)

(So, you should know this, shouldn't you? They must've brought it up a few times while you were walking. You weren't thinking too hard about where you were going. The paths feel wholly natural to you... But you do remember that the amount of times you had to give Siffrin a Super Sour Tonic was atrocious, really.)

(How does anyone lose to sadnesses THAT often? It's ridiculous! He should just let you fight!!!)

"Loop?"

(Whoops!!! You should pay more attention to your surroundings...)

(...)

(No, okay, wait.)

>"When did we get to the mirror room?"

(The glare Siffrin gives you bears the striking image of absolute incredulocity.)

(That's not a word. Whatever!!! You can make up new words if you so please!!)

"You're kidding."

>"Completely serious question, Stardust!"

"...'Stardust, I am the epitome of good memory...'"

(HE'S MOCKING YOU!!)

>"I am! I swear it on my mother!"

"Stars have mothers?"

(You shrug before remembering to raise a gloved hand to your mouth.)

>"I don't know!"

>"But I'm sure, if I had one, she'd be especially bright."

(An eyeroll.)

(They don't laugh.)

(Why does that bother you?)

(Eh, probably because that one was funny! No fair!)

>"You're no fun, Stardust..."

"Okay."

>"Whatever! I'll find a pun buddy somewhere else!!"

"And where would you go? Vaugarde's frozen in time."

("And you're practically a ghost," is what goes unsaid.)

(...mmm. No, it's fine.)

>"I'll write to them! We'll be pen pals!"

>"Or I guess we'd be pun pals, ehe."

(They snort. Mission success!!!)

"Not funny."

>"Oh, come on! You laughed!! That means I won the bet!"

"The bet was about laughing at your jokes. Puns don't count."

(Bummer! You pout.)

"Real talk. Any particular reason for bringing us here? I trust you, but..."

"... The only thing in here is that mirror."

(They point to the large mirror at the end of the corridor. You nod. There is a mirror, and nothing else.)

>"Indeed so."

"And you called it the mirror room?"

(Did you?)

>"No I didn't."

"I'm not arguing with you again..."

(Aren't they doing that already?)

"Just answer the question."

>"I wasn't aware I was being interrogated! I need a lawyer!!!"

"Loop."

>"Fine! I-... Um."

>"I."

>"I'm not ... quite sure?"

"You're not sure."

>"Nope!"

(They sigh.)

"So you led us here... for no particular reason?"

>"Exactly!"

>"Well. No, I'm sure there's some reason we're here."

>"I feel like there's something else in this room, you know?"

>"But! As far as I'm aware!! There is nothing in here!!! Save for that dazzling old mirror!!!!"

"Right."

(He doesn't believe you.)

"... Let's look around, then?"

>"Sounds good to me."

(You look around.)

(Okay, you don't actually do anything. Siffrin's going at it, though!)

(He checks the pillars. And the corners. And the bricks. And the pillars again.)

(It's... really boring.)

(It's better than the Other Thing you could be doing. The Elephant In The Room. The Big Mirror In The Corridor-Room. That.)

(Hm. Hmmmmmmm.)

(You weigh your options.)

(Boredom. Or headache. Boriiing borreeedooom...... or excruciating headache.)

(Or answers? You don't know the mirror's deal! You could get something meaningful out of this!)

(Or you could get a headache.)

(Or you could lean against a pillar, bored, for the rest of eternity, waiting to be Done and Over With This.)

(...)

(You've been pointedly ignoring the existence of the mirror for quite the while now.)

(Something goads you. A whisper.)

(You follow. Siffrin watches you, curious.)

(You don't... You don't really want to look.)

(Just looking down spikes something uncomfortable under your skin.)

(So you're not sure what to expect, if you were to look in your reflection.)

(Whispers turn to spoken tongue turn to yelling turn to screaming as you approach the glass. Yet, no matter how loud they get, how heartfelt they screech, you can't make out the words.)

(Something in you hurts as you stand in front of the glass.)

(You take a breath)

(in, and out.)

(And you look up.)

(and all at once)

(everything goes quiet)

(...)

(You gaze at your reflection)

(You gaze at a star.)

(is this you?)

(you wave your hand)

(it waves back.)

(You frown. It frowns too.)

(Stars. All up its body.)

(More than you could dream of, could you still dream in the first place.)

(Flame-like spikes flicker freely from its head, immitating hair.)

(Imitating life.)

(You're looking at a ghost.)

(you're a ghost?)

(The screaming returns. You flinch back in surprise. The ghost does not flinch with you.)

(LOOP, it screams. LOOP, LOOP, LOOP, LOOP !!!)

(Its head morphs. It's something spikier, now. It's something right.)

(your head hurts)

(The ghost snickers at you. You look at it.)

(You look at it)

(it's)

(it's)

(loop)

(you look at loop)

(LOOP, the screaming chants, in agreement. LOOP!)

(someone is shaking you?)

(this is loop)

(but you're loop?)

(are you loop?)

(The screaming rises. You didn't think it could get any louder. You cover your ears and cower. It doesn't do anything)

(loop laughs at you.)

(you forgot)

(of course you forgot! you always forget! forgetful little siffrin! sieve brain siffrin)

(you stole their role. in the play)

(you stole them)

(you)

"LOOP!"

(You blink)

(You is in front of you. Your back is leaning against cool glass.)

(if your back is to the mirror)

(how are you looking in your reflection?)

(The you in front of you sighs.)

"You were out cold there... What happened, Loop?"

(you wait for them to respond)

("Nothing, Stardust!! You should go help out your little entourage! Or, you know, you could do something more productive? Like talk to the Head Housemaiden?")

(that's what you think they would say)

(you feel a shiver)

"... I'm not... part of a party...? Oh, no, nevermind. I get it."

(your reflection releases you. you slump to the ground.

(you pull your hands up to your head)

(and stop)

(your arms)

(your arms..)

"Loop."

>"... Loop?"

(Oh!)

>"Yes! I am Loop."

(Siffrin gives you That Look again.)

"What was all that?"

(All that?)

>"I'm not sure what you're talking about!"

"It was like you... um..."

"Forgot your name. Or something."

(Forgot your name? Scandalous!! You'd never forget such a thing!)

>"Nope, all good!"

>"I just... hm. Thought you were talking to someone else there, for a second?"

>"But I'm fine now!"

"If you say so."

(He doesn't take your word for this, either.)

(Oh well!)

(You bend down and flip the switch, extra careful not to look at the mirror. Or the photo that materializes in front of it.)

"How did you-?"

(They try to ask, but you're already moving for the key.)

(Loop.)

(That's you!)

(So why does that name remind you of someone else?)

[alaveii]

dan heng headcanons bcuz hoyo finally let my boy back into the spotlight

dh checks over his teammates all the time. even if he knows logically that nothing is wrong, his eyes will rove over their heads, their forearms, their midsections, and hands. anywhere he can see is evaluated at least twice in 20 mins.

he regularly seeks out exits. a habit left over from being chased by blade, or maybe due to his isolation in the shackling prison, he always assesses any space he’s in for every escape route.

connected to the previous point, this habit of his has shifted to accommodate march, welt, himeko, and the trailblazer as he became more comfortable with them. the most ideal exit went from “what he could escape through fastest” to “what we could get out through quickest without straining welt’s joints, or tripping up march, etc.” thin walls are also now a viable escape route for him as well now, due to the trailblazer’s raw strength and (semi) lack of inhibitions

when he first joined the express, he complemented himeko’s coffee. its not that he genuinely liked it, and he’s fairly certain it nearly returned him to an egg, but she offered and he couldn’t bring himself to deny or insult anything from the woman who gave him a home. when he drinks it now, the strain on his digestive tract is temporarily balanced out by the warm feeling of home and nostalgia, reminding him of when he first boarded the astral express.

in his IL form, his eyes, antlers, and tail fur glow faintly in the dark

he gets chronic migraines. whether caused from nightmares or shitty sleep, they creep up on him slowly before striking hard. the pain goes from ignorable to almost unbearable within minutes, and it’s during these migraines that he least appreciates his natural form. not out of body dysmorphia (like was for most of his time pre luofu arc), but because of the heightened senses and glowing features. they add to the pain, but switching forms usually only makes the migraine worse

dh is, in many ways, more like baiheng than dan feng. while he shares df’s icy exterior, features, and battle prowess, he also is notably more likely to tease and poke at his teammates. he has an odd streak for luck, running into danger just as easily as he gets away from it. he shares baiheng’s low, almost unnoticeable wanderlust and love of travel. he has a hotheadedness in battle reminiscent of the foxian pilot, fast and aggressive but never, ever, putting their family in danger. most prominently, dh and baiheng share an intense curiosity towards their fields of interest, and unwavering love and loyalty to those they hold dear.

dan heng, before march showed up, was very quiet. he rarely ever spoke unless spoken to, and if he did, it was short and quiet. welt and himeko rejoiced in seeing him open up when march boarded, growing into a snarky, protective, brotherly figure.

in his IL form, he has retractable claws. he usually keeps them hidden away, both for convenience (as he’s still learning to work with them) and due to insecurity.

he also has scales, though they’re sparse and scattered underneath his clothing. the biggest patch is at his shoulder, under his large sleeve. he has far fewer scales than df did, who kept most of his hidden under his fully-covered outfit.

dh found himself latching onto himeko the most often when he first boarded, and later the trailblazer as they grew closer. their natural heat was soothing to him, so he subconsciously started drifting to them when he needed comfort.

dh, after getting comfortable with his true form, found himself often lounging near, next to, or even sprawled over the rest of the express crew. he found another love language in physical contact, which his family happily indulged

the staff of herta space station are under the impression that dh is “the mom friend” or “the responsible one” of the trailblaze trio. he is not. he once lost his hotel room keys 3 times in one day. welt later sewed a clasped loop on the inside of his coat for him to attach his keys. him getting involved in a dubiously legal fighting ring (*cough* belobog *cough*) is not a first time occurrence, and will likely not be the last.

dh sometimes dreams of the good times with the hcq. he appreciates these, they make the quintet seem less like legends and more like people.

dh’s favorite dreams are of domestic moments with his express family.

[bumblebeehug]

When do u think Natsu actually realized that he fell for Lucy and i know he treats her differently but can u give moments where it's initiated from his side?

This is going to be a long post so buckle up!

Okay, first of all: the Phantom Lord arc. Though I don't think he fell in love with her at that point of time, I think it was the events that seriously solidified his partialness to her. I'd go into detail but I can already feel a long post incoming, so I'll keep it short: Lucy telling Natsu that she loves being a Fairy Tail wizard, while crying over the fact that she didn't want to leave ↓

After just trusting her life in Natsu, jumping from an insanely high tower, with a mere belief that maybe she had heard him in the distance – I think it struck a chord with Natsu. Like, it would be normal to cry after a fall like that, but Lucy wasn't concerned about that aspect. Her head and heart was all about the guild, how she didn't want to go, and that resonates with Natsu. Natsu's entire life at that point is 1) Finding Igneel, and 2) being with/protecting the guild.

Then I'd say it's a pretty gradual build in their relationship. They go on a lot of missions, hang out together, and just in general spend a lot of time connecting. There's some Natsu-saves-Lucy, some Lucy-saves-Natsu, some hand holding (tenrou arc I won't forget about that, thank you anime team for adding that scene), and then comes the next pivotal moment. GMG arc and the dragon festival that follows.

By then I'd say Natsu and Lucy are very much in this friends-with-emotional-benefit zone: much more than friends, absolutely not yet lovers. But with Lucy's near-death experiences in her battles, Natsu has to refrain himself from getting involved each time Lucy gets beaten up - he becomes helpless, and the worry that's sowed inside of him gets watered each time Lucy still puts his faith in him, still trusts him to come out a winner. That entire section when Lucy's in the infirmary and she tells Natsu that her entire being trusts that Natsu can do anything, I think that's when Natsu falls in love.

Now wait!! He still doesn't quite understand that he loves her. But he understands that his feelings for Lucy are more tender than any other feelings he's ever had. He treasures her in a new, heavier way. She's become precious to him.

Precious. Where have we heard that... oh >:) ↓

Now the Dragon Festival was LETHAL in a trillion ways, but especially for nalu fans. The whole Future Lucy plot and the forehead touches and the Future Natsu and Future Lucy fighting in a wasteland moments and the Natsu skipping the final GMG match to save Lucy. And of course. Future Lucy dying. It's not the first time we see Natsu get so heavily affected - it happened in the tower of heaven, when Erza was ready to give her life up. But it is the first time we see Natsu see a friend die. Like, a team mate, someone who he's responsible for bringing to the guild. And after the whole GMG conundrum? Had a single more bad thing happened Lucy during the dragon festival, he’d probably turn into a demon right there and then. Dare I even say: their relationship was the strongest at this point in time.

After the GMG and the Dragon Festival, we get the Sun Village arc (I don’t like the Eclipse celestial spirit arc so I’m not counting it, same with Key of the Starry Sky arc — technically some nalu moments but not exactly building imo) and then another big one: Tartaros. Ooooh brother, THE best arc of all times, wish Mashima knew how to replicate it. But alas, he doesn’t.

The Tartaros arc isn’t exactly a pivotal moment where Natsu “falls in love” but rather an important aspect to understand his later actions. Like this guy goes through some pretty grusome stuff, learns a lot of complicated, bad things about himself, and finishes off the arc with losing Igneel — his father that he's spent ages searching for. Natsu's entire life is turned upside down, so he decides that he has to become stronger: cue, he heads off for a year to train.

His time away isn't very elaborated on — not from Natsu's viewpoint or Lucy's. But I think it's understood that he chose not to bring along Lucy because she could be put into danger too much for him to be able to concentrate on building his strength: he knew his training would be dangerous. During this time we also have the Gildarts-scene in chapter (idk i can't be bothered to look it up but y'all know the one ↓) which is kinda debated on — who was Natsu talking about here?

I'm still not certain on if it was a heart to heart on the Igneel-matter, or if it was about his guilt of leaving Lucy behind, like many theorise. I'm not even certain that it's limited to one of them — he could be talking about both. But at the very least, this entire year was one of those "distance makes the heart grow fonder" moments for him. He wanted to get back to his normal life with Lucy so bad. After all, it wasn't like him showing up at the GMG was in order to meet Lucy — had he wanted more training after that, he'd head off again, but I don't think he could physically bring himself to do it, even if it hadn't turned out that the guild had disbanded. Though that's just me speculating a bit.

And about the guild disbandment: oh jolly, he was not happy. He had finally taken the step to grow stronger to protect everyone in his beloved guild, and here Makarov went and disbanded it? Leaving Lucy completely alone? Lucy, who once jumped from a hella high tower because she was just so devoted to stay in the Fairy Tail guild? Yeah, I think that broke him a little. At this point there was just so much guilt involved around his whole relationship with Lucy, because now he had put her through so much pain only because he brought her to Fairy Tail that day in Hargeon.

The next arcs I'd say Natsu's trying to spend his time redeeming himself for the countless things he's done bad (getting the guild back together, just generally staying by Lucy's side as much as possible). And naturally he keeps getting hit by challenge after challenge (it's not easy to be a book written by his immortal brother, yk?). And it's even harder to watch Lucy die again, this time for real (he thinks bc he's stupid and also has a tumour that's nothing less than a ticking bomb) (give this guy a break lol).

Anyways: Lucy's death nr2. Natsu can't live a life without her. Now I know — he still doesn't quite understand that it's romantic love, but I think he does understand that it's pure love. No matter if kissing and reproducing was involved, all he knew was that a life without Lucy is completely unimaginable, so blinded by rage he becomes and decides to decapitate everyone in his way (sorry about that Gray).

The last couple of moments I'll go out of my way to mention as signs of love is 1. when he's won over Acnologia and falls towards Lucy, crazy relieved, saying "I'm home", 2. Gajeel pointing out Natsu's crush on Anna, Natsu basically saying "oh that's why I like Lucy so much" (I embellished it lol) and 3. "We're still gonna be together from here on out, right?" yeah that man won't ever leave her. Ever. It's just not an option.

Now since I've only talked about specific moments, here's what I have to say about his relationship with her in general:

Throughout the main plot line, we also see a shift in Natsu's behaviour. Someone here on Tumblr pointed out that Natsu always finds a way to shield Lucy if something unexpected happens, after not being able to shield her from Future Rogue. There's also the small detail of the order he calls out to people - it goes from being pretty random, to Lucy almost alwyas being on the top of the list: likely because she's always on the top of his head. And in general I'd say that Natsu initiates (i'm adding this entire paragraph bc i realised that you asked about when Natsu initiated stuff, more than when he fell in love lol) almost all of their interractions. It's Natsu who wants Lucy to join Fairy Tail, to form a team, he's the one who enters her apartment constantly, he's always searching her out - his interest in her is at a constant high so we never feel like we get "moments" that he's paying her extra attention. He has one setting, and it's "Lucy" cranked to the max. Lol.

I could also add some HYQ moments to the mix here, but they've been few and far inbetween, and also mostly played off as jokes, so I can't really consider them as moments when Natsu initiates his love. I guess his jealousy can be considered a sign? And when (spoilers from the manga) he runs around to protect her/save her from creepy-freaky-jail (the only one who made it freaky was him, with those wild fantasies lol). Maybe I need to jog my memory a bit, but so far there hasn't been any non-pervy nalu moments initiated by Natsu in the HYQ, aside from jealousy-chap. Sadly.

Hope this gave you the answer you were hoping for! Sorry it took so long, I started writing on it and realised it would be a bible so I put it in my drafts to fetch some pics to make it less wordy, and then I forgot about it, lol. But here it is!

[inksandpensblog]

Somehow I got this idea of Chosen, left alone after the season conflict again, wandering away from the site of the final battle and then stumbling upon Victim’s abandoned farm.

Obviously by the time he finds it it’s a little run-down, because the property owner hasn’t been back in a while.

(Not that Victim had been spending much time there anyway, recently. As the lab grew, they started spending more time at their office, and their own house became more of a retreat. Though the neighbors would still lend a hand every now and then, at first.)

But when Chosen finds it, it’s been long enough that the neighborhood is pretty sure the original owner won’t be coming back.

Not that Chosen is aware of this, at first. It starts with him squatting in the barn.

He gets a good nap in, but eventually the farm animals notice there’s a person in the barn again and begin vying for his attention.

He figures out what they want, in the hopes that making them happy will get them to leave him alone, and then goes back to resting.

Rinse and repeat a few times, until Chosen realizes that the only way to get the animals off his back more permanently is to get a bit more involved and make some changes to the space.

So he starts fixing the barn up. Which leads to him fixing up the property around the barn. And he starts paying attention to what the animals’ regular needs are, instead of just their needs in the moment.

(The neighbors have become aware that Victim’s property is no longer abandoned. The new guy doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing, but he’s good to the animals and he’s trying to fix the place up so they all pretend he isn’t technically trespassing. He looks similar enough to Victim for them all to figure he’s probably family, so they figure it’s alright that he’s there if he’s gonna take care of the place. Nobody approaches him though; he seems to not want anyone to know he’s there…and, again, he looks similar to Victim.)

Eventually enough changes have been made that anyone who spent a lot of time in the area would have to know somebody was there, even if they hadn’t seen Chosen himself. So Chosen decides to check out the actual house.

I don’t think he moves in, exactly. He’s gotten used to the sheep snuggling up with him, the barn cat purring on him, the horses’ quiet solidity, the chickens’ constant quiet clucking, the cow’s lowing, the hutch rabbits’ fluttering heartbeats. But there might be a few nights when he needs quiet and solitude, so he’ll slip into the house for the evening.

But even if he isn’t completely moving in, he still starts to fix up the house. It’s something to do.

(He was wary, when the neighbors began looking his way. But aside from the occasional greeting or acknowledgement, most seem content to pretend they haven’t noticed him. He relaxes a little more.)

Eventually it becomes clear that nobody is going to dispute his occupation of the farm. His presence has been accepted in all the ways he can discern.

He begins to think that maybe, he can find contentment here.

(The neighbors have grown comfortable enough with him to call advice to him over the fence, in passing. He has clearly not quite grown comfortable with the idea of having neighbors yet, but he recognizes that help is being offered; and little Toby found his ball back on his front steps the day after he kicked it over the fence, so the guy can’t be that bad.)

So time passes, and Chosen truly begins to settle into farm life.

One day, as he’s working on the interior of the house, he hears footsteps on the porch. Nobody has ventured so far as to visit him on the farm grounds yet, but they aren’t the heavy footfalls of aggression so he cautiously opens the door.

Only to see a roughed-up Victim fumbling for their spare key.

Chosen is immediately tense. But...Victim is favoring one leg, and their hands are shaking, and breathing seems to hurt, and frankly they look like one good punch might kill them. So he waits.

Victim’s initial reaction, after freezing in place, is simply a flatly nonplussed “what are you doing here.”

“…I live here.”

“…this is MY house!”