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what-even-is-thiss · 22 days ago

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Hello I know almost nothing about assassins creed but I know a few things about costume design and history so I’m gonna look at all the assassins creed box art/default outfits of the various protagonists and take a look at their inspiration, practicality, and rough historical accuracy.

I’m gonna go in chronological order by time period just to be an ass about it

Alexios and Kassandra, Greece, 400s-ish BC

They put boobs on Kassandra’s version which immediately puts them on my shit list. That makes the armor easier to pierce because it gives blades a convenient slide towards the center of your chest.

Those concerns aside though, I haven’t really seen an armored torso piece with this exact design but the historical inspiration is clearly there. I’ve got no real issue with the Spartan helmet.

They’ve got a belt for a purse but no purse. And normally I wouldn’t criticize that because they could be keeping their weapons there but they’ve got an embarrassment of belts here. They’re also wearing red which is a fairly expensive color compared to yellow or blue or something but whatever it does look pretty cool

Looks pretty good, has the period vibe even if it’s not accurate, and is relatively appropriate attire for a soldier for hire, if a bit flashy. 8/10 broken spears

Bayek, Egypt, 49 BC

No offense but I think that this man saw into the future and witnessed both a hot topic circa 2008 and a 20th century orientalist depiction of the Middle East and tried to recreate both of them with what he had lying around.

So the collar thing seems to be based on actual Egyptian armor but it looks leather instead of metal. I don’t know what his weird menstruation skirt is supposed to be or why he’s wearing pants. During this point in Ptolemaic Egypt I’m not sure anyone would’ve even heard of pants unless they’d heard stories from the far north.

As far as practicality goes I mean he’s guarded from the sun I suppose. He’s got gloves for handling his eagle. I can’t tell what his clothes are made out of. If they’re made of cotton or linen he might stay cool but if some of that is leather like I think it is he’s not gonna be comfortable in there.

I would criticize all of those belts again but at this point I think they might be holding his outfit together. I don’t wanna dignify this one with a rating.

Basim Ibn Ishaq, Baghdad, Abbasid Caliphate, 800s AD

So the armor I mostly don’t have a problem with. It’s a bit short but it’s clearly based on actual period designs so I’ll let it go. Even if it does commit the sin of too many belts.

The assassin outfit… confuses me. Makes me conflicted. So around that time there were a lot of different colors and patterns available for fabric however he’s gotta keep with the white outfit aesthetic. I get it. He’s also got a cute pop of blue in there. His outfit is flowy and loose fitting and will keep out the sun. That fits the time period vibe.

However this guy would still stick out like a sore thumb. First of all, random armor pieces. Second of all, too many belts. Third of all, there were so many things you could’ve done with turbans in this setting? And veils? There was and is still a style of wearing a turban where you leave part of it hanging off the side or back and so many things could’ve been done with that to cleverly and mysteriously obscure his face.

There’s potential here but I do deeply wish that potential had actually been used. 3/10 houses of wisdom

Eivor, Norway & England, late 800s AD.

This protagonist comes in both boy and girl flavor and for once the outfits match. I appreciate that.

This person also has an actual purse to go with their embarrassment of belts and the underlying tunic and pants at least have the general vibe of being period accurate.

As for their armor though, they either aren’t wearing any or they have some secret chainmail under their tunic. And those random bracers that don’t look particularly Viking.

Their little fur cape there would probably be warm but also wouldn’t function great as a cape. Or as a blanket.

Weirdly historically accurate but also not accurate at all. Kinda extra. Kinda like it though. Looks warm. 9/10 ravens

Ezio, Italy and Ottoman Empire, 1400s AD

This is the og guy. Weirdly enough unlike many of his successors he doesn’t actually have an unreasonable amount of belts.

What I will say in favor of this outfit is that the color and metalworking isn’t improbable for his time period. I mean they had the technology.

Everything else about it though? Uuuhhh idk where they got any of this. Collars in that style weren’t really much of a thing yet, that belt is huge, and hoods would’ve been more likely to be separate garments from the rest of your clothing. This guy looks badass this is a very compelling design but nothing about this dude screams renaissance Italy. If his goal is to remain hidden he’s going to have a very tough time. 6/10 da vinki paintings.

I’ve reached the image limit. I will finish this list in a later reblog.

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batsandbirdbrains · 22 days ago

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i was wondering if you could write some nonverbal Dick when he was little and the the Batfam finding out when he's older?

okay okay okay but like. I feel like he just would not speak at all as Dick Grayson. He's quiet as a mouse. He might shake or nod his head if he's asked a yes or no question, but otherwise, he just stares. His lips are almost in a permanent pout, but it's not even on purpose.

And Bruce has no idea what to do. He tries to do anything to make him smile, to show any positive emotion at all. Hell, Bruce would even rather have Dick crying than him just being totally silent.

Then Robin is born, and his laughter bounces off the walls of the cave, "It's the Batcave, Bruce!" and Bruce feels his heart skip a beat. It's the first thing Dick has said to him in the two months since he came to live at the manor.

Dick's eyes are sparkling and his smile is wide and he's grinning at Bruce, rocking on his toes, giggling every few breaths. And Bruce's heart swells, and he scoops Dick up and twirls him around, squeezing him tight when Dick lets out a shriek of a laugh.

"The Batcave," Bruce tells him once they've both calmed down. "I like it."

And thus, all the bat-themed names are born. Batcave, Batmobile, Batarang, Batcomputer, and an endless list of bat-names. Bruce will call anything bat-themed if it gets Dick to say something.

Robin is chatty. At least, when he's with Batman. He talks a mile a minute, he has an opinion on everything, he makes puns so bad that Batman can't help but laugh. Criminals think he's a terror, and they groan every time they hear Robin's laughter echoing around them.

But Dick Grayson still barely speaks a word even a couple years after Bruce took him in. And when they're back at the Batcave, Dick Grayson peeks through Robin's mask more often than not. Robin is chatty when they're out, but not when they're home, and not when Batman brings him to meet a newly formed Justice League.

A ten-year-old Robin stands close to Batman, half-hidden beneath Batman's cape, staring at the gaggle of heroes meandering about the room. He looks up at Batman, his lips falling into their usual pout, and Batman just shakes his head.

"I know," he says softly to Robin. "We'll go home soon. Promise."

Robin tilts his head, his fingers twitching as he holds the edge of the cape.

"Well, maybe not as soon as you'd like," Batman says with a sigh.

Robin looks back towards the heroes, and some of them are making their way over to them now. Robin tenses up, and Batman places a hand on on his shoulder to help him relax.

"Robin!" Green Lantern greets, a huge grin on his face. "I've been wanting to meet Spooky's sidekick!"

Robin stays silent, but his gaze hardens. He doesn't look away from Green Lantern, and Hal starts to sweat.

"Uh, Spooky?" Hal says with a nervous laugh. "What's up with the kid?"

"He doesn't like your nickname for me," Batman says, his voice even. Robin looks up at Batman, and the two of them look at each other before Batman turns back to Hal. "He thinks it's unoriginal." There's a tug at his cape. "And boring."

"Oh," Hal stutters, and when Barry laughs behind him, he turns and swats at his shoulder. "Well then. Alright. Good talk. Oh would look at that, I think Oliver is calling me, see you later!"

He hurries over to the other side of the room, nowhere near way Green Arrow is standing with Black Canary and Wonder Woman. Barry stays though, and he holds a hand out for Robin to shake. Robin stares at it a moment, then shakes Barry's hand.

"Firm grip," Barry tells him, a grin on his face. "You must be pretty strong if you're able to keep up with Bats."

A hesitant smile spreads across Robin's face, but he doesn't say anything. Barry doesn't seem to mind, filling the silence easily. It reminds him a bit of his conversations with Batman, actually.

Superman isn't there the first time Robin is introduced to the Justice League, having to stay behind in Metropolis due to an issue with Lex. But pretty much everyone in the League realizes that Robin doesn't talk, at least not to them.

So imagine their surprise when Robin accompanies Batman to the Watchtower the next month, and Robin lights up once he enters the meeting room where everyone is gathered.

"Superman!" Robin gasps, letting go of Batman's cape to run at Superman. He stops in front of him, a grin on his face as Superman just laughs.

"Hello, Robin," Clark greets. "I've heard a lot about you!"

"All good, I hope," Robin teases, leaning into Clark's personal bubble. Clark doesn't seem to mind.

The rest of the conversation is more so on Clark's part, Robin's responses short, mostly just nodding, but his face is full of joy, and Batman is watching in awe. Diana is standing next to him, a gentle hand on his arm.

"This is the most he's spoken all week," Batman says softly.

Diana just smiles at him, patting his arm, unsure of exactly what to say. They still don't know much about Batman and Robin's lives outside of the masks, but she thinks maybe this will help them both to open up a little more.

And it is the start of them opening up more, because sure enough, Dick slowly starts speaking more as both Robin and even as Dick Grayson. Eventually, most people forget that Dick Grayson barely spoke at all, because soon enough he does a total 180, and he's so chatty that the world around him simply forgets.

But even as an adult, he has times when he simply reverts back to not wanting to speak. It's exhausting, having to speak so much sometimes. It's a defense mechanism, staying silent. It's comfortable.

He tries not to do it around anyone but Bruce, because he's the only one who ever knew exactly what he was trying to say, even when he didn't want to say anything at all.

But there's one day when he just can't bring himself to talk. He's so tired. It's been nonstop work, both in and out of the mask, and he can't gather up the energy. He's still only half-healed from his last mission, he's physically and mentally exhausted, and he doesn't want to be the one to fill the silence. So he just doesn't.

And it freaks the entire rest of the family out.

"Big Bird?" Jason asks after a a full hour of Dick sitting silently in the manor. The rest of the siblings are watching from the doorway of the room, Jason having drawn the short straw to be the one to ask him what's wrong. "Did you get hit with a spell or something?"

Dick just turns to him, his brow furrowing, his head tilting. He's curled up on his favorite couch, a TV show he's watching a million times playing in the background.

Dick just shakes his head, then rests his head back on his pillow and goes back to staring blankly at the screen.

"Are you sick?" Jason prods. "Do you have, like, strep throat or something?"

Dick's head just barely shakes, and he pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. It's a clear sign to leave him alone.

It's Tim who ends up pulling Bruce into the room, insisting that something is wrong with Dick, that he needs to be brought into the Batcave, that they need to do some tests on him because he's acting weird and no one knows why.

Bruce kneels in front of the couch, blocking Dick's view of the TV, and Dick frowns at him.

"Hey, chum," Bruce says softly. "What's up?"

Dick moves one hand out from where it was tucked under his chin to give him a little wave, but doesn't say anything. Bruce just smiles at him, tugging the hood down a little further over Dick's eyes and grinning when Dick smiles and swats Bruce's hand away to push the hood back.

"Sorry for bothering you," Bruce tells him. "Do you want me to bring you anything?"

Dick looks at him for a moment before pushing the side of his head further into the pillow, and his nose twitches a bit.

"Tea? With milk?"

Dick smiles at him. Bruce smiles back and pats his head.

"I'll be right back," Bruce says, and he gets up to go make Dick a cup of tea. It's late in the day though - he'll have to make sure it's decaf. It's not a patrol night for Nightwing.

"What the fuck was that?" Jason questions him as he leaves the room.

"He's just in a quiet mood today, is all," Bruce tells them.

"And you were just gonna play twenty questions until you could figure out what he wanted?" Tim asks.

"No, he clearly wanted tea," Bruce says, looking at them all like it was obvious.

"How is that clear?"

"It just...was," Bruce tells them. "I just know what he wants. I'm used to him not speaking."

"And how are you used to him not speaking? He never shuts up!"

Bruce actually laughs, and he moves into the kitchen to start making Dick a cup of tea.

"What? What's funny about that?"

"He hardly spoke the first two years I knew him," Bruce says through his laughter. "Never shuts up, that's funny. It used to be like pulling teeth to get him to say a single word."

Everyone else is totally baffled, they can't wrap their heads around it. Meanwhile, Bruce just finishes up making Dick's tea and goes to leave it on the coffee table in front of him, patting Dick's head again before he leaves the room.

"Leave him be," Bruce tells his other children. "He's tired. You can bother him once he's feeling chatty again."

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #robin #non-verbal dick grayson #fic ideas

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months ago

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By Such A Little Taste

Sylus x fem!Reader

This got so far away from me ngl One minute you're staring at Sylus's hands while he plays the claw machine, the next you're writing 4k words about those hands

Title from "Hooked (Addicted You Might Say)" by Eleisha Eagle

NSFW, smut below the cut

Warnings: smut, fingering, cunnilingus, cumming untouched, hand/finger kink, marking, biting, kissing, teasing, dacryphilia/crying, swearing, praise kink, choking, breathplay, pet names, nipple play, embarrassment, shyness

Word Count: 4,085 (Y'ALL 😭)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Which one do you want me to get?”

You look through the glass of the arcade machine. The attendees always make sure to keep it clean from any kids leaving sticky fingerprints on it, so every plushie is on full display. A red fox with a little wintery cape, a hermit crab with an ice cream cone on its back, and a cockatiel with bright red cheeks. You just love looking at them all.

“Do you think you can get the Cone Crab?” You point to it through the glass, without touching of course. “I don’t think I have it yet.”

Sylus smiles down at you. “Whatever you want, sweetie.”

He inserts the token smoothly, pressing it into the slot with his thumb. You cozy up to his side like you always do, holding his elbow while trying not to restrict his movements. His hand rests lazily on the joystick, fingers relaxed as he adjusts the claw. His fingers occasionally tap thoughtfully against the red top, trying to decide the best plan of attack to get the plushie you so desperately want.

Though, now that you’re here, the plushie is the last thing on your mind.

You’ve always known that Sylus has nice hands. They’re huge, easily dwarfing yours every time you hold them. Sometimes, you even hold onto just a few of his fingers or his pinky, just so your hand doesn’t get too tired. He loves it, too. He loves when you’re curled up into him, playing with his hand, comparing the sizes.

Tonight, though, those thoughts go a little bit further. You think about the way it effortlessly curled around your neck in the photobooth earlier tonight. How his fingers traced along your back when the crowd at the mall got a little too dense for your liking. The way they showed no mercy to Wanderers, yet tenderly bandaged your wounds.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when his elbow gently nudges you. “What’s on your mind, kitten?”

Your cheeks burn red hot, as if he could possibly ever know what you were just thinking about. You scoff. “Nothing.”

“Oh? Is that so?” He leans down to whisper by your ear. You can hear the satisfied smirk in his voice as he says, “Then, why aren’t you claiming the prize?”

Claiming the- Oh. You jolt away from him, blush creeping up to your ears as you reach down and push open the flap to grab the Cone Crab. You hug it to your chest and determinedly avoid meeting his eyes. You nod into the machine again. “Okay, what about a Snowy Fox? The one I have is getting a little lonely.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you back into his side. “Of course. Try to pay attention this time, sweetie,” he purrs the pet name.

You can feel his muscles shift as he wraps his arm around your shoulders to hold the joystick once more. It’s hardly an issue with how tall he is, but you can tell he’s drawing you in closer than necessary… That being said, you don’t move. No, you just bite the inside of your cheek and stare down the claw like you have a vendetta against it.

It shifts along the top, honing in on a Snowy Fox plushie that sits off to the side. Thankfully, it’s not right up against the wall, or else he wouldn’t even have a chance of getting one without using his Evol. He hums, the sound deep and resonating within his chest right by your head, as he presses the button. The claw descends, loosely “grabs” at the fox’s head, and drops nothing but air into the chute.

Unfortunately, the proximity draws your eyes right back to his hand.

You really try not to keep staring. Really, you try. But it’s a useless attempt at best and woefully futile at worst when he chuckles, staring down at you with that knowing glimmer in his eye after he catches you staring at the prominent veins that run through his hand.

He shifts his hand back so his fingers curl sinfully around the red top as he pushes it forward to hover back over the Snowy Fox he missed just seconds ago. Your breath hitches in your throat as his lips graze the curve of your ear. “I see where your mind is tonight,” he muses.

You exhale sharply through your nose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Instead of responding, he lifts his hand off the top of the joystick until just his fingers, long and practiced, trail along the front as he shifts the crane back a touch. His thumb, coming around the side, shifts it to the left.

“Remember to breathe.”

You jab your elbow into his ribs. He chuckles, standing up straight as he presses the button. The claw comes right down over the fox and finally gets a good grasp on the plushie. You watch it get carried through the air and to the chute. He releases you so you can retrieve it, clutching it to your chest with the crab.

“Would you like a turn now, sweetie?”

You narrow your eyes up at him. He’s planning something, you just know it. But it couldn’t be worse than watching his hands at work. You shove the plushies into his chest. He takes them and steps back. You definitely do not notice, at all, how both plushies fit in just one of his hands.

He slips another token into the slot, arm brushing against yours teasingly. You don’t react. The bear has been poked plenty, you don’t need to rile him up any further.

Eyes on the prize, the Golden Throat, you move the claw so it hovers just over the bird. Mephisto would surely love to play with it. (Even if playing with it meant ripping it to shreds.) The thought eases the tension in your shoulders. With a few minor adjustments, you press the button. And… nothing. The cockatiel falls over onto its side, staring forlornly up at you.

“Would you like some help, sweetie? Remember, you’ve only got one shot left.” He brings his hand around, golden token shining in the dancing lights of the machine as he slips it between his fingers. He holds it up with his thumb, pressing the coin face into the side of his index finger. It’s so small in his hands.

“No, I can do it.” You take the coin from him and jam it into the slot. Your face is scrunched up with concentration as you realign the crane.

You take a little longer than usual to line it up. A warm hand covers yours, engulfing it as his fingers curl overtop yours. “You’re so close, kitten,” he muses. The double entendre isn’t lost on you. “Just a little…” His index slides between two of your fingers, pushing them aside until it nestles at the crook. You feel your face burning again. “There.”

You push the button, too dazed to even check his work. His breath fans across the back of your neck. If the arcade was crowded today, you’re sure you would have been kicked out by now. The winning jingle sounds with a flash of lights.

“Good girl.”

And that’s what breaks you.

You practically push him away so you can grab the toy, not even taking the chance to cradle or admire it like usual. You shove it into his arm while he laughs, taking his free hand to drag him out of the mall as fast as possible.

He’s even worse in the car ride home. One of his hands is on the steering wheel, calmly turning it with just the flat of his hand around corners, or running his thumb in circles over the hardened leather all too knowingly. His other is on your thigh, between your legs, almost but not quite where you need him right now. It takes all your willpower not to guide him there yourself in the middle of traffic.

Once you’ve passed the border into the N109 Zone and he’s recklessly speeding up now that there are no laws to stop him, he squeezes the fat of your thigh. “You’re being so patient, kitten. Just a little further.”

Your sigh comes out shaky and impatient. “You’re still an asshole.”

Sylus just smirks.

You thank your lucky stars that Luke and Kieran are nowhere to be seen when you get to the mansion. The plushies all haphazardly lay on their sides in the back seat. You can’t think to feel bad for them, can’t think about anything else but the need pulsing between your legs, as you grab his hand and drag him inside.

Once you’re past the threshold, he’s lifting you up in one arm, cradling you to his chest. You squeal at the sudden shift in perspective, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck. His other hand holds your thigh, fingertips digging lightly into the plump flesh, thumb stroking just under the hem of your dress. You kiss behind his ear, along his jaw, bite at his pulse. He nips at the helix of your ear playfully.

As soon as you’re in his room, you’re being laid out on the bed, his hand cradling your neck so you don’t land too harshly. His knees cage your hips as he supports himself over you with one hand. Warm lips slot over yours. His free hand slides under your dress, slowly working it up your body. His touch feels heavenly, igniting every nerve that was already burning on the way here.

The kiss is languid, remaining so no matter how much you try to deepen it. His wicked grin taunts you. “What happened to all that patience you had earlier?” he teases. You bite his lower lip. He hisses at the sting, moving down to bite just under your jaw. “Behave,” he warns. “I’ll take care of you.”

He sits up to fully remove your dress. You’re a vision that would be coveted by the Romans who would think you a goddess of the highest renown. Your chest rising and falling, already panting with desperate need. Your eyes staring into his, begging for more, more, more. Your hands reaching out to grab the hem of his red sweater. He grabs them, securing both wrists in just one of his hands to pin them above your head. He tsks with a grin.

“Not yet, darling. I need to make sure I fulfill all your fantasies from earlier, first.” Your face heats up. You have to look away, turning your head to hide your embarrassment against your arm.

He releases your hands, his own sliding down and reaching under you to undo the pretty lace bra you’d bought for yourself with his black card. He’d teased you about trying it on for him when you got back, having seen the purchase on his phone. It very quickly became one of his favorites. He drops it off the side of the bed with your dress, but leaves your panties on, even as you buck up against his hips.

“Patience, remember?”

You groan pathetically. “Please, Sy,” you beg. “Just touch me, please.”

“I was already planning on it, sweetie.”

He leans down over your body again, keeping himself up by his knees as he trails open mouth kisses along your neck. His hands mirror each other, running down the sides of your ribcage, down to your stomach and back, until they reach your breasts. His mouth seeks out your nipple, sucking, licking, savoring the soft flesh against his tongue. You gasp when his teeth nip at the hardened bud, back arching to press your chest further against his mouth.

A beautiful coating of saliva shines on your breast when he pulls away. It becomes lubricant for his thumb as he rubs slow, teasing circles along your areola, pushing his spit around like paint on a canvas before it finally brushes over your nipple. His other hand guides your neglected tit into his mouth, squeezing rough enough to leave marks as he takes his sweet time tending to you.

His red sweater rubs against your overheated bare skin. The soft fibers scrape over your stomach, tickling you and making your body flinch away on instinct. His pants are no better, acting as a solid barrier between your aching heat and the bulge pressing against you. You try to cant your hips up again, trying to get the friction you need, but his hand lets go of your breast to hold you firmly against the mattress.

Your nipple is released from his mouth with a wet pop, covered in saliva and red markings. His lips find your pulse, leaving gentler kisses over the artery. “I wonder what you were thinking about,” he muses, voice rough with lust. He can feel your heart racing against his lips. He’s tempted to bite down like the vampire from his story, but he settles for sucking a mark into the unmarred skin instead. It sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps up your arms, still staying obediently above your head. “Watching my hands… What did you picture, sweetheart?”

The thoughts come rushing in all at once. The beautifully prominent veins on his hand. The way his fingers curled around the joystick. The sinful way he teased your fingers apart while helping you…

The whimper comes utterly unbidden when his fingers trail from your hip to dance across the top of your panties. “Talk to me,” he encourages in a low purr. His fingers curl under the elastic band, slowly teasing one side off of your hip. “What were you thinking of?”

Your face is burning red hot with embarrassment and desire. You always struggle with speaking like this, when he asks you something so simple but so sinful. But you know that he’ll reward you so nicely if you speak up. It’s a dangerous motivator sometimes. “A-At the photobooth, when you wrapped your hand around my neck,” you stutter out.

His eyebrow quirks up with a smirk to match. “Do you like having my hand around your throat, sweetheart?” He lifts his head from your neck, watching as his hand trails from your panties, along your body, over your collarbones to your neck. The way your body twitches with every light brush is addicting. “Do you like knowing…” His palm rests over your trachea, fingers curling around the sides of your neck. “... just how easy it would be for me to… choke you?” He squeezes his fingers lightly for emphasis. He feels when you swallow, throat bobbing against his palm.

You nod slightly, biting your lip to fight back the noises he so easily draws from you. Even still, small whimpers emanate from your throat.

His index finger shifts up to rest along your jaw. He turns your head to the side slightly, taking notice of how your eyes flutter shut under his control.

“Oh, does this kitten like to be controlled? Should I get her a lovely little collar?”

The thought alone draws a mewling whine from deep within you. He chuckles, tilting your head back in place with his thumb as he leans down to capture your mouth. He pulls your lip from your teeth, sucking on it until it's beautifully swollen before he kisses you properly. His tongue delves into you, licking into your pliant mouth with deceptive sweetness as he tightens his hold again. He growls when he hears the hitch in your breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers, releasing the pressure and rubbing his fingers soothingly along the sides of your neck. “What else were you thinking of, hm?”

His red eyes bore into you so calmly, so naturally. It’s hard to keep looking at him, especially as you fight to answer his question. “How big they are,” you admit.

He smiles. It’s such an innocent remark. He knows how big they are compared to yours, how much you love laying your hand over his just to remind yourself. He leaves his hand on your throat, raising the other one to brush his knuckles along your arm as he seeks out your hand. You curl your fingers between his almost instantly, holding onto him like a lifeline. He turns them over to bring your hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles tenderly. “What else?”

You whine, closing your eyes to hide from his stare. “Please don’t make me say it,” you beg.

“Why not?” You don’t answer his question. “Hmm. Shall I guess, then?”

He disentangles from your hand after one last kiss, bringing it to rest in his hair. You dig your hand into the soft locks immediately, like it’s second nature. He kisses your lips softly. The feeling lingers even as he trails kisses down your body once again. Down your neck, over your sternum, taking one detour to bite at your tits. His hand follows in his wake, massaging and caressing your skin.

He shifts to be kneeling between your legs, resting them over his thighs as he reaches your navel. His hand passes him, however, pulling your panties down your other hip. “Am I warm?” His hot breath fans over your stomach, making you shiver. His lips brush sinfully over the edge of the elastic band. His eyes meet yours again.

You nod. His thumb caresses your jaw, a silent praise for answering him. You lift your hips experimentally, worried he’ll push them down again, but his hand slips under you instead, dragging down the fabric over your ass. As more skin is revealed, his kisses get lower. You tug at his hair, trying to push him closer. “Sy, please…”

He hums, tilting his head to rest his cheek against your hip. “Hm? What is it, sweetheart? Do you feel like telling me what you were thinking of now?”

You halfheartedly glare at him. “You’re such a bastard.”

He chuckles. “I know.”

His hand glides smoothly over your ass, fingers guiding your panties further down your thighs. Before you can be fully uncovered, he leans down between your legs to kiss your cunt through the soaked fabric of your panties. You gasp sharply, opening wider for him. He makes sure you’re watching when he gathers the material in his teeth and drags them down. You hope you never forget that sight.

He sits back to remove the final piece of your attire, slipping off your heels in the process. You wish you could sit up and tear his clothes off of him, throw them to the side with reckless abandon to expose his body to you. That thought is immediately gone the second you feel his fingers finally dragging through your folds. Just like he mimicked at the arcade to your fingers, he parts your lips until he finds your clitorus.

“You’re so beautiful,” he hums, the rough edges to his voice softening. He kisses your thighs as he gathers up your slick on two of his fingers, groaning at how absolutely soaked you are. “So fucking gorgeous.”

He raises his coated fingers to your lips. You suck on them without question, moaning around them as you taste yourself, as you lick up every drop he gathered until all that remains is your saliva. He presses down on your tongue, choking you gently at the same time until you gag. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, soothing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl.”

Your scent fills his senses. All he can think about is how good you must taste, how you’d feel clenching around his fingers and tongue as he ravages you, your heady scent consuming his every coherent thought until he’s utterly drunk on your cum.

He can’t wait any longer.

His hands slide down your body to grasp your thighs, spreading them wider, guiding your calves over his shoulders as he dives in like he’s starving on death row and you’re his last meal. He moans as he licks a stripe up your cunt, swallowing everything you can give him and seeking more. His fingers create divots in your skin as they press down, promising bruises as they tug you closer and closer, until your head is barely on the pillows anymore.

You cry out his name through moans and gasps. Both of your hands tangle in his hair, keeping him firmly against you. He nudges his nose against your clit. Your hips jerk to ride his face and he nearly lets you. Any other night, he would have loved to flip you over so you could sit on his face, use him, ride him, until he’s suffocating in all of you. Tonight, though, he pulls his mouth from your weeping hole to suck on your clit.

It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. You’re torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, begging him mindlessly, though you don’t know what for. One of his hands releases your thigh to take over where he left off. One long finger pushes slowly into you, easily accepted with how fucking wet you are, dripping slick down his hand. It fucks into you, curling to rub at your g-spot with a professional expertise. His second finger slides in just as easily, creating a steady rhythm that draws you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Tears slip down your cheeks, so fucking lost to the intensity of his attention to your clit. You’re so fucking close already. Air gets caught in your throat, forcing its way out through ragged moans. You can’t even get the words out to warn him. That swell of pressure builds in your abdomen too fast. Your cunt clenches harshly around his fingers, trying to draw them in deeper. Sylus’s eyes watch your face in a half-lidded haze, desperate to catch the exact moment you come undone for him.

Your thighs squeeze his head as your orgasm snaps inside you. Your head is thrown back against the pillows, fingers in a death grip in Sylus’s hair as your cum gushes out of you. He eases up on your clit when you tremble, shaking your head without conscious thought as it becomes too much. His fingers gently ease you through the afterwaves, hand drenched in your delicious slick. When your hands and your thighs relax, he pulls away.

You blearily open your eyes to watch him clean his hand with his tongue. It curls around his fingers, slides up his wrist and forearm to ensure he doesn’t lose a single drop; licks his lips as he pants for air. His eyes flicker to your cunt. Your walls clench around nothing. Your clit is swollen and sensitive to all hell. As much as he would love to go back in, clean you up with his tongue alone, he resists.

He gently lowers your legs from his shoulders, massaging your thighs to ease the lingering tension from them as he leans down to kiss you softly, sweetly. All you can taste is yourself on his lips. You comb your fingers through his hair, carefully trying to make up for any pain you may have caused. He sighs into your mouth, completely relaxed with your touch.

It’s you who pulls away first, tilting your chin up to get him to let up. He trails his kisses along your cheek instead. “You still haven’t been taken care of,” you point out.

He chuckles airily. “I assure you, I’ve been well taken care of.” You turn your head so he sees your look of confusion. He sighs as he sits back up. Sure enough, there’s a wet spot on the front of his pants that is definitely not from you. Your face burns as you look up at him.

“I… You came just from eating me out?” you gape in disbelief.

His cheeks are pink, too, despite the way he playfully shakes his head. “Don’t let it inflate your ego too much, sweetheart.”

You watch as he gets off the bed to go to the ensuite bathroom. It’s not hard to tell it’s uncomfortable being in his soiled pants, but he gets a wet cloth to take care of you first. You lay back, grinning like an idiot as he tends to the mess you’ve made. “I’m flattered.”

“Leave it alone, kitten.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll spend the rest of the night finding every single way I can make you cum without touching you.”

“...”

“... Promise?”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #fem reader #x fem reader #female reader #x female reader #smut

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dc-gotham-instincts-wild · 8 months ago

Text

DC BATFAM FANFIC IDEAS

Bruce not telling anyone in the JL his identity and one day he casually mentions something only an orphan would understand. - The JL members who are orphans understand. The others don't. - The entire JL gets concerned.

Tim's nervous (Read: really scared) around Jason. Jason does not like this and wants to fix it. Wait, why does Bruce glare daggers at Jack Drake? - Jason: I sense child neglect. Dad's already onto it, i see. Ok so how do i use this to get Tim stop fleeing the room whenever i walk in.

Sort of an AU fic where Bruce and Oliver were close friends (Read: brothers and that's what they see each other as) as kids, still as adults, and as vigilantes they work pretty well together, they recognized each other instantly even in cape, and while the the JL doesn't know their identities, each knows the other. - Also they're both autistic and somehow chaos ensues after Flash overhears them talking one day at the Watchtower and now the JL wants to know how these work so well.

Bruce was a wild child and so is Damian.

Jason adjusting to being under a roof, right after Bruce found him.

The first days of Tim's being Robin. Bruce and Dick are concerned, while, oblivious, Tim is doing things that only neglected kids do. He is surprised others care. Dick sets out to change this.

AU where Jack ends up being a crap dad. Bruce has had enough and steals legal custody. - Bruce: Well you had one chance at being a dad and you blew it. - Bruce: Tim's my kid now. - Jack can't do anything about this. To Tim, Jack is 'Father'. Bruce is 'Dad'.

Some of the villains notice that the other vigilantes and even Red Robin himself like joking that 'RR's folks don't even notice that he practically lives at our place, they won't notice him sneaking back in at 2AM'. - Until one day they joke about 'RR's dad blew it. B took legal custody'.

Flash has ADHD but tells no one. The other see the signs tho. Batman calls him out on hiding it. Why Bat? Welp, the other nominated him. GA joins his autistic buddy tho.

This isn't Batfam but Billy/Captain Marvel accidentally drops some street child stuff. The League, of course, pick it up.

Bruce has trust issues. No specific event- just it was that way after his folks died. The JL figures it out that it's not just how he is, he just generally doesn't trust people. They figure out that something happened to make him this.

The JL has to come to Gotham for a mission. They have to stakeout in a graveyard. At some point while they still have a few hours, Batman slips off. When *insert any JL member(s)* find him, he's standing above two graves. They catch him saying "Hope you're proud, Mom, Dad." - Chaos ensues from this.

Kid!Dick has a nightmare. Bruce allows his kid to spend the night with him.

Cass gets into a fight with David Cain. She is shaken. Bruce is there for her, though.

Duke has a nightmare.

Tim tries to sneak outside after having a nightmare. Bruce catches him because he's a Dad. He sensed a disturbance in the force. Anyway instead of getting mad he makes it clear who Dick learned it from and tickles Tim to bits and then carries him back to bed lol.

That's all i got for now lol. Might update it if i get more ideas.

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seilnakyle · 2 months ago

Note

Just read Catwoman: Her Sister’s Keeper and I adored Newell’s writing. Was wondering if they’re any details in it you particularly liked or think might be overlooked.

Such a fantastic Catwoman story (Tw for discussion of underage prostitution and rape)

I believe it was probably controversial at the time, though you can find lots of praise for it, I think people at the time were still wrapping their heads around her being turned into a prostitute, and an underaged one too. And while most Catwoman stories tend to tip toe around this dark part of Selina’s childhood, Her Sister’s Keeper dives into the bleakness and despair of this life, and the desperation to escape it

Once Selina starts training with Ted, it doesn’t take long at all for her to start jumping in to action, usually to protect Holly Robinson, an even younger prostitute that lives with her. We see that protective instinct that’s always been there come out when she finally has the abilities to fight back against her situation

Selina shielding Holly with her jacket always makes me think of Batman protecting someone with his cape

I think there hasn’t been a better written version of Magdalene Kyle since this story, the way it shows the duality between these two sisters is beautiful. One of the quotes used to open the second issue of this series is from Rudyard Kipling The Jungle Book, “we be of one blood, thou and I” but it hits even harder when you read the full quote

At the beginning of the series we see Selina in the immediate aftermath of being beaten and raped by her pimp. She is found outside of the immaculate virgin by the Nuns in the convent, including her sister Magdalene, who starts taking care of the stray cat that had kept her sister’s unconscious body company before help arrived. She prays for Selina’s safety, but knows there is none to be found on the streets of Gotham

Stan later kicks this same cat, and after months of no contact during Selina’s training with Wildcat, Selina jumps Stan in the same ally he assaulted her

Maggie heard the commotion, and rushed outside to catch a glimpse of Selina before she runs away again. Maggie goes to the detective that gave Selina Ted’s number, and asks about her sister. Finding no help she goes looking by herself

Magdalene finds Holly, who actually refers to Selina as her mother

Holly tells Selina her sister is searching for her, and Selina returns to the last place they saw each other

It’s a short reunion, Selina is clearly still scared to be around Maggie for too long, afraid the danger and bleakness of her own life might seep into her saintly sister’s. Maggie pleads for Selina to stay, Selina warns Maggie off the streets, and escapes to the rooftops. Immediately after she leaves, Stan the pimp kidnaps Maggie in retaliation for the beating Selina dealt him.

As soon as Selina finds out her sister is missing, she hitches a ride with one of Stan’s friends to his apartment, and finds Maggie’s cross

Catwoman rushes to save Magdalene, and as Maggie is dangling over the side of a ledge during the confrontation between Selina and Stan, she has the same thought her sister did

Selina begs Stan to leave Maggie alone, even offering herself to him again, but Stan won’t listen, and attempts to kill Maggie

Batman is there to save her just in time thankfully (and let Stan die)

Batman stays with Magdalene to make sure she’s alright, and Maggie kind of instantly clocks the connection between Selina and him

Directly after this traumatic experience, Catwoman has a bit of a moral crisis, knowing she didn’t intend to kill Stan on purpose, but also believing he deserved to die. She now thinks her Catwoman persona is turning her into a murderer, and confesses this to Maggie

One of the cops working the “Missing Nun” case found Holly while all this was going down and roughed her up for no real reason other than knowing Selina.

Holly goes to find Selina, and she’s furious at how Holly was treated. First she tries to speak with the detective who had helped her once, but even “good cops” will be looking out for other cops before they look out for whores

Selina drops Holly off at Maggie’s convent, and this panel right here is probably my favorite Maggie/Selina moment

“Do you really feel so much safer in there?”

“Do you?”

Batman stops Catwoman in the middle of beating up Captain Strunk, knowing her life would be over if she became a cop killer, Selina answers “as opposed to a pimp killer?”

Such a beautiful, grim annd ambitious story. I really wish modern comics could be this mature again. And even though these themes are hard to read about, they shouldn’t be watered down to make things more marketable

#selina kyle #maggie kyle #catwoman #Batman #batcat #holly robinson #dc comics #long post #dc comcis #comic talk #comic discussion #dc talk #ask box #my post #batfam #batfamily

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mrfrogmouth · 5 months ago

Text

Day 11: Convenience Store/Emerald

The ice cream drops into Kara’s basket with a rattling thud that jars her frazzled nerves even more than the humming of the flickering convenience store lights. Alex’s words echo in her ears. Words like “reckless” and “unnecessary risk” and “I should send you to the medbay. I didn’t realize that fight with Corben had melted your BRAIN.”

Kara felt that last one was a bit much. It wasn’t like she’d been hurt or anything. And all those people in the L-Corp lab had been saved! As far as she’s concerned, that’s an absolute success! Kara drops another pint into her basket. It hits her already tall stack and rolls off. Should she get a fourth basket? No. The plastic grocery bags might rip on her flight home. She puts the pint back with a resigned sigh.

And you know what? Her plan had been solid. Sure, it was risky to go straight through the kryptonite powered robots without waiting for backup but she’d been on a time crunch! And maybe Alex should think about issuing less dumb orders if she wanted Kara to follow them. “Wait while we identify the bomb” what kind of stupid idea was that? It was already ticking!

She’s just turning the corner, still thinking about Alex and the fact that she’d actually seemed a little disappointed when Kara had told her Lena survived when she nearly slams into someone coming the opposite way. It’s only her superspeed that averts the collision as she jerks to the side just in time. In her distracted state, however, it is not enough to prevent one of her baskets from clipping the stranger’s arm, sending both her ice cream and their groceries tumbling to the floor.

“Oh— Oh my gosh I am so sorry! I can help you clean this up. I— Lena?”

And it is. Tied hair mostly covered by a junky black hoodie Kara hadn’t even imagined she owned, Lena stares back at her with equal surprise behind a a pair of sunglasses. She smells faintly of burned plastic. And alcohol.

“Hi… Kara. Nice… seeing you here?”

Kara doesn’t think it’s intended to be a question, but she answers anyway. “It is! I would’ve thought you had people to do your midnight shopping though.”

Lena says nothing. Probably would have been nicer if Kara hadn’t thrown her stuff all over the floor. “Oh! Here, let me help you with your… rope…and bleach.”

Both of them pause, surveying the unique collection of bottles of lighter fluid, rope, bleach, and cartons of boxed wine.

“Well. Lovely seeing you.” Lena says, and then she has her things shoved into her basket and is power walking down the aisle as briskly as possible without breaking into a run.

“Lena— Lena, wait!” Kara calls after her, scooping up her ice creams. Lena pays (in cash) and by the time Kara has paid and caught up with her she is opening the door of her car. “Lena!”

Lena pauses and looks back.

“Are you sure you should be driving?” Kara asks, “You seem a little. Uhh—” Sloshed? Tipsy? Buzzed? “…Tired.”

“I’m fine Kara. I drove myself here. I can drive myself home.”

“Oh, I’m sure, I just— I saw the news today.” Kara says.

Lena stiffens at her car door. “What about it? Not like it’s the first time.” She says. Her flippant tone is somewhat undercut by the force with which she throws her bag into the back seat.

“You almost died today. I— I heard Supergirl was cutting it pretty close with that bomb.” Kara says. It’s an understatement. After the robots and decoy bombs Kara only had arrived as it went off. It was a miracle Lena hadn’t been badly burned from the heat of the blast before Kara had gotten her cape around her.

Lena shrugs. “Yeah, well. Another gift from Lex.”

“Lena, that’s worse!” Kara says, harsher than she’d intended.

Lena stops, and Kara gets the impression that Lena is truly looking at her for the first time since they met in the store. She pulls down her sunglasses, and blinks in the sudden light. Tipsy or no, her gaze is as sharp as ever. Then she sighs.

“Tell you what. You tell me what drove you to buy 37 pints of ice cream, and I tell you what the lighter fluid is for.”

_______________

“It’s really not a big deal,” Kara is saying, as they enter the elevator to Lena’s office, her hands finally relaxing from the white knuckled fists they’d been in for most of the drive. If Lena crashes the car, Kara should be fast enough to keep everyone safe if she’s paying attention. I mean. If anything made drunk driving safe it’s having Supergirl in the passenger’s seat, right? “It’s not like I almost got blown up.”

Kara cringes at her own words— sweet rao why did she SAY that— but Lena only shrugs. “Seems like it matters to you.”

Kara doesn’t have much of a rebuttal to that. “Yeah. It does, I guess.”

“Kara?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Oh! Right. Alex and I argued.” It seems such a silly complaint now, standing next to Lena.

“What about?” Lena asks, pressing a fob to the elevator key.

Kara pauses, searching for the right words. “I… did something… risky. At work.” Lena meets her eyes with a smile.

“Kara Danvers? Do something risky in the pursuit of journalistic truth? Never.”

Kara laughs, but the laughter fades quickly. “Alex was investigating the same thing I was. And she… uhh. Didn’t like my methods.”

“Didn’t like you putting yourself at risk?”

“No. And today— today maybe came a little bit closer than I would have liked. But my plan worked! And nobody was hurt!”

“But you scared Alex.”

Kara sighed. “But I scared Alex.” The doors of the elevator open, and Lena pulls the bleach out of her shopping bag. “Sometimes I just feel like— I don’t know. Like she won’t let me be my own person. Like she’s so scared I’m going to get myself hurt that she won’t let me take a step on my own. Like she doesn’t trust me to. She’s always looked after me ever since I arrived. To the Danvers, I mean.”

Lena blinks. “You’re adopted?”

_______________

The smell of wine grows stronger when Lena opens her office door, and Kara tracks it to the large purple stain that has spread across the white rug by the desk. Kara looks at Lena in question and Lena lifts the bottle of bleach with a guilty smile.

_______________

“Have you ever bleached a rug before?”

“No, but it can’t be that hard. You just. Like. Soak it, right?”

“I guess? Don’t you need to dilute it?”

“Please. This isn’t even lab grade. It can’t be that bad.”

_______________

Ten minutes later, once they have thrown the now faintly smoking rug down the incinerator chute (Of course, I have an incinerator in my office. I run experiments, Kara), Kara finally asks, “So, you were going to tell me about the lighter fluid?”

“Ah! Yes. Would you grab the rope? We need to bind these papers.”

Lena doesn’t elaborate further until they’ve taken the old bags and stacks of papers and journals downstairs and out to the little park across the street from L-Corp. Or, well, Kara carries most of it as Lena struggles with her single bag. When Lena has her breath back she pants, “You’ve been holding out on me Danvers. What else do you have hiding under those cardigans of yours?”

“Me?” Kara feels her face heat as she chokes out, “Nothing! Nothing hiding. I mean. My shirt.”

Lena laughs like Kara’s said the funniest joke in the world and Kara relaxes. She should be more careful about lifting things. Alex would kill her if Lena found out she was Supergirl. Come to think of it Alex would kill her if she heard that Kara was alone in the park, at night, with Lena Luthor. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do you have some compulsion that drags you to the nearest near-death opportunity?”

Kara hefts the papers. Alex can suck it.

“So, umm. What are all these?” She asks, depositing her stacks by Lena’s bag.

“My brother’s things form the L-Corp office. Apparently, he left behind some items last time he was here. Notes, Photos, and the like. Nobody claimed them after Metropolis, so they just sat in the office cabinet. The ones the police didn’t confiscate anyway.”

“Oh,” Kara says, eloquently. “And you wanted to do a… midnight de-clutter?”

“Yeah.” Lena says, with a satisfied nod. “I’m gonna set it on fire.”

“Wait, what?”

But Lena is already grabbing rocks and arranging them in a tight ring, dropping a few journals at the center. “Would you pass me the lighter fluid?” She asks, before taking a large chug from a carton of boxed wine Kara had not realized Lena brought with her. She passes over the lighter fluid anyway.

Lena sets about appropriately drenching the journals, takes another large gulp of wine (Kara scoots forward, hiding the other cartons behind the pile of paper.) then reaches into the bag. She freezes, then pats her pockets. “Damn!” She says, “I forgot to get matches.” She casts an eye across the park. “I suppose I’ll just have to make a spark.”

Kara doesn’t know much about fire-starting technique, and the practiced way Lena moves suggests she does, so Kara doesn’t really move while Lena spins a small twig into a log. She succeeds in creating a small flame… which promptly goes out as Lena attempts to bring it closer to the soaked journal kindling. After several more attempts with the stick and a string of curses Kara isn’t sure are entirely in English, Kara bends over a pair of rocks and pretends to start sparking them. After a moment the campfire goes up in a roaring flame and Kara pretends to blink away the smoke while her eyes stop glowing.

Lena beams at her. “You get more interesting by the moment, Kara Danvers. A veritable outdoorswoman.”

Ears burning, Kara says, “Alex taught me.” And then, unfortunately, opens her mouth again. “She really likes explosives.” Dear god WHY— But Lena just nods like that’s a perfectly normal thing to say. Maybe it is in the Luthor house. Or maybe Lena’s just too drunk to know the difference.

She tosses in a small paper pouch and the flames flash a brilliant, rippling green. Lena smiles. Her eyes reflect the fire like shining emeralds.

Kara feels a little dizzy. She’s hot again and she begins to sweat. She looks at the fading green flames again. Kryptonite? Lex is the kind of guy who would just have little baggies of powdered kryptonite in storage. What does she do now? Is this what Alex had been worried about? Kara begins to panic, before Lena picks up another paper sachet and whips it into the flames. Which promptly spark blue.

“Copper.” Lena says when she catches Kara’s eye, a twinkling smile. “We used to mix up chemicals for homemade fireworks. Lillian would get so angry. Apparently smelling like sulfer and smoke is unbefitting of a Luthor.” She bends over the pile of packets and Kara hears, “Ooh! Potassium Chloride!” before the flames turn purple.

And because Kara can never leave well enough alone, she says, “I am sorry, you know, about Lex.”

Lena stills with her back to Kara.

“Why? Nothing changed for me today. He’s a homicidal madman. That isn’t new. I feel more sympathy for all the people caught up in that attack at the foundry across town.”

“He was still your brother,” Kara says. “I’m sorry.”

“I guess that’s just how it is with siblings.” Lena replies. “You let them in close, they teach you everything you need to know, and then, when you least expect it, they stab you in the back.” She throws the last of the sachets into the fire. “Or blow you up.”

And then, to Kara’s horror, Lena begins to cry. She turns away from the fire, hurriedly wiping away the tears from her face. She sniffs loudly, and laughs.

“And, you know, I know it’s silly,” Lena says, voice trembling.“But I really thought he loved me.”

“That’s not silly, Lena.”

“Isn’t it? He’s done all these terrible things. This is— what? His fourth time trying to kill me? And even here, now, I look at these old notes and the only thing I can think about is when we used to sit in the treehouse and he’d tell me all about his latest projects.”

Kara picks up a photo from the pile. It’s old. Lena is probably around ten here. Lex still has his hair, a floppy early 2000s hairdo that looks almost comical knowing the man now. They’re playing chess. Lena is staring at the board, chewing on her lip with rapt focus, but Lex is looking at Lena. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. It almost looks like pride.

“My family— My birth family were complicated people. And some of them did things that I could never understand.” Kara thinks of Astra’s wild eyes, of Non standing proud and cold before Ft. Rozz, her mother’s hologram. “I could spend the rest of my life trying to find what I could have done, what I should have said to change their mind.” Kara flicks the photo into the fire. “Sometimes loving someone isn’t enough. Sometimes they go places you can’t follow.”

“Humans are just pathetic creatures I suppose. All of us chasing after useless things.” Lena says, and she tosses a pile of papers into the fire. Old calculations, landscape sketches, and notes fizzle as they hit the flames, sending sparks out across the grass.

“There’s nothing pathetic about loving someone, Lena. Even if it does nothing but hurt.”

Lena doesn’t respond, busying herself untying papers to burn. Kara stares at her a moment, a hundred somethings on her tongue, and then she hears something whistling in the distance.

“Are those sirens?”

“Run!” ___________

They sprint around the last alley corner and stop, panting. (Both of them, this time. Kara’s getting really good at this fake exercising thing!)

“I can’t hear them anymore,” Kara says. “I think we’re good.” Kara can actually still hear them, but they’re going the opposite direction, so that should be good enough. She and Lena stand in silence for a moment, both breathing heavily. They make eye contact. And burst out laughing.

“Oh my god!” Lena giggles, “Oh, I haven’t done this since boarding school.”

“What kind of boarding school did you go to?” Kara asks in alarm.

“The expensive kind.” Lena says, slyly. And was she always standing so close?

“It’s late.” Kara hears herself saying. “You should probably get yourself home.”

“Probably,” Lena agrees.

They stand there frozen, nose to nose in the alley, and Kara has that feeling again. Like there’s something there on the tip of her tongue. Like she should say something. Do something. And then two cats flings themselves out of the dumpster next to them with an awful yowling and they spring apart.

Lena clears her throat, straightening her dress. “Well, it’s very late. We should probably get back to the office. I need to drive you back home after all.”

Kara does convince Lena to call a cab this time, but they don’t speak for the rest of the car ride.

Lena pauses at Kara’s door.

“Thank you, for coming with me tonight. Not many people would help a Luthor with an unsanctioned nighttime bonfire.”

“I’m not most people.”

“No. No, I don’t get the impression you are,” Lena says with a wry laugh. “And don’t think I’m going to forget about you carrying down all those papers. Best be on your guard Ms. Danvers, or I’ll start calling you to help bring in all of the legal documents I have to wade through.”

“You could, you know.” What is she saying? Why can’t she ever just shut her mouth— “Call me, I mean.”

Lena smiles. “I might just take you up on that.”

When Lena has gone and Kara has shut the door behind her, Kara slumps down onto the floor.

Oh. Oh, Alex is going to hate this.

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #lena luthor #kara zor-el #kara zor el #whumptober2024 #october prompts 2024 #supercorptober2024

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monodramatic-cannibal · 9 months ago

Text

Orca's ref

info post about Memento Cadre

more info under the cut

-Uses He/Him may also use They/Them

-head canon voice:

-He’s a Crossfell variant (Crossfell by Jakei95). So has a different experience from the og Cross.

-Joined Memento Cadre due to the fact his au had basically been destroyed, and he didn’t want to be apart of X!Gaster’s plan to revive it. He doesn’t talk about his life before Memento Cadre, and wants to keep it that way. Somewhere in the beginning of him joining the group him and X!Chara were split into two beings. Wasn’t allowed near the other 3 when Omen (Nightmare) first took him in, as he was violent at the time and would have hurt the other 3, had to be slowly introduced to them.

-Has less magic than the others, but makes up for it in physical prowess. Being physically stronger than the others as well as being able to take a lot more hits than them too. Paired on with the fact he is now LV 10 he’s a lot stronger than the others in the group (Other than Omen). A solid/good punch from him is like getting hit by a bullet train. And due to his armour/cape his Def is high as well. Often being able to walk through most attacks, including gaster blaster beams.Though he can’t do it consistently.

-His Name was originally ‘X’ but Omen (Nightmare) started to call him Orca, which after a while Orca became his new name, allowing him to distance himself from his old life. He’s never seen/heard of an orca before, doesn’t even know what his new name means.

-The tallest in Memento Cadre. Will slouch slightly from time to time when talking to others. Often getting told by the rest of the group to straighten his back or he will mess it up.

-Best way to describe his personality is like a honey badger mixed with a chihuahua. Needlessly aggressive, and acts like everything is out to get him so kicks off to keep everyone away from him. But only lets a few select people/monsters come close. He can be seen as a fighting dog that is still learning to act like a normal dog.

Or a pray animal that has nowhere else to run so has to fight.

Though a weakness of his is head pats. Doesn’t want anyone knowing that. If someone doesn’t attack him and gets close enough to pet him he’s basically the equivalent of a kicked puppy.

-His personality when it comes to those he likes is basically like a teddy bear. Very soft and protective. He acts as a guard dog for them, and always tries to do his best to protect everyone and keep them out of trouble. He’s willing to put his life on the line for them, even if it means he might die, if it gives the others time to get away in his eyes it’s worth it.

-Never really learned to read/write, learned a bit when he was a kid, but never continued to learn. Omen (Nightmare) did offer to teach him when he realized Orca didn’t know. But Orca refused due to being embarrassed. Though Omen would teach him anyway at random times in a nonchalant way making Orca feel less awkward about it.

-Was basically created to be a walking loyal weapon. He’s loyal to a scary degree, this is why he was in such a bad spot in his au for so long. But when things went to hell and he realized he had no one to place that loyalty in it gave him major trust issues. Omen (Nightmare) was able to gain Orca’s trust over a long period of time. And slowly the rest of Memento Cadre he began to trust with Omen’s help.

-Will sometimes get annoyed at Omen, yes Omen doesn’t treat him as a weapon and will actively go out of his way to protect Orca so he doesn’t have to fight, but Orca feels somewhat useless without being able to fight, since it’s all he’s ever known. He knows Omen is trying to teach him how to be more of a person than a weapon, but he also wants to do the things he’s good at for Omen. “Let me fight, I’m good at fighting.” “But do you want to fight?” “...”

-Spends a bit of his free time with Omen whenever Omen is in the archive, since he likes to hear stories about the aus from Omen. Prides himself on the fact he’s the one who has gotten Omen to talk the most.

-Wears a spiked collar to keep people away from his neck. Hates anyone getting near his neck/face. He had problems with people in his au trying to go for his neck, so uses the collar as a way to keep them away.

-Wears fingerless gloves to protect his knuckles, as he has a habit of biting his knuckles when nervous.

-His cape is really heavy, its a similar weight to 3-4 weighted blankets (not including the spikes and fur on the cape, which also add to the weight) Will; throw it at others to knock them over.

-X wound on his face, from time to time the wound can hurt and also give him bad headaches. The wound never fully healed so if he catches it on something it could start bleeding again. The others in the group have each tried to heal it, but couldn’t and it made the pain worse for him for a short time.

-His normal resting face looks like a glare, which tends to scare off most people, without him meaning to scare them off.

-Hates being alone, has to be hanging out with someone, so is often seen following the others like a lost puppy. He’s sort of fine when it comes to going to sleep on his own, but if he awakes during the night he will seek out Omen as he knows Omen doesn’t really sleep. Will normally fall back asleep in whatever room Omen is in.

-His tail wags when happy, in the past he never used to wag his tail before joining the group. Has once sprained his tail from wagging it to hard, was extremely embarrassed about it, and once he got healed he wasn’t seen for a few hours because he was so embarrassed.

-Used to be a royal guard/samurai, was so caught up in fighting honorably that he would fall for tricks/others fighting dirty. But since spending time in the group he no longer cares about this, and will 100% do anything he can to win. E.g. throwing sand/dirt/snow into others eyes/eye sockets, throwing his cape (which is heavy as hell) at peoples faces to blind them/catch them/knock them over. etc. Though he is also aware when to back off from a fight he can’t win.

-Is part dragon, often runs off of the instincts of his draconic side. So will sometimes act more beast than monster/person.

-Due to running off instincts half of the time he may do things that are closer to what animals will do. E.g. he will groom the ones he likes, he bites/scratches/purrs/growls, he collects/hoards shiny things. Gets possessive over people/things.

-May have LV flares that are mainly effected by his mood. And due to him running on more instinct based he will often become extremely destructive during these flares. Or may get very protective of the group/over one specific person. He can’t really help it. When he’s being more destructive than protective Omen will take him to a dead au to cool off.

-Used to sleep sat up, being on edge even when sleeping. He’s started to rest better now and will lay down now, but does so curled up into a ball, may even curl up around things, including stealing one of Alloy’s (Killer’s) cats to curl up around.

-Will pick people up that he likes. Will also wrap his cape around people he likes too. May also steal people this way too, throwing an arm/the cape over someone to hid them then dragging them away. Does this often to Soot when Soot is hallucinating.

-Will also let people lean on him, e.g. will stand behind the others so they can lean back on him. Normally the MTT will grab either side of his cape and pull it over themselves too to hide in Orca's cape. Omen will lean back on Orca but won't really mess with his cape

-When walking around an au, especially in Snowdin, the MTT will follow behind him in a line stepping exactly in the places where he steps. E.g. in Snowdin it will look like one set of footprints. Orca is unsure on why they do this or when it started, but doesn’t question it since he knows it keeps the others close to him, and also he feels almost honored that they’re following in his footsteps rather than Omen��s.

-Was very iffy with food before joining Memento Cadre. Would basically eat anything put in front of him. Even if it was to make him ill. He never really had a good consistent food source in his au, and also when joining the group he also would hoard food, and hide food as well, which he slowly grew out of, though sometimes he still does hide his favorite snacks.

-Very warm, the equivalent of a furnace, this heat comes from the fact he’s part dragon. Often when it’s particularly cold Soot, Cleaver will huddle up to him. Them often dragging Alloy into the huddle knowing Alloy isn’t aware when it’s too cold. When they’re back at the base Alloy’s cats will also hang out with him due to it being cold.

-Alloy (Killer) will mess with him a lot. Gets annoyed at Alloy the most. Though at the same time he can’t complain as Alloy will show him things he’s not seen before. Or show him how to do things. He thinks Alloy just likes watching his reactions to things rather than actually helping him out with stuff.

-Often will hang with Soot, finding comfort in hanging out quietly with him. Since there’s never any pressure of either of them to speak. Knows a little bit of sign language, and sometimes Soot will teach him random signs, mainly how to swear in sign language, both of them finding it funny.

Inspos:

-Yuji from JJK, specifically when Yuji gets serious and the frames go black and white. He's also inspired by the move black flash from JJK as well

-orcas, mainly how they will punt things out of the ocean and generally only bigger whales are the thing that can stand up to them.

-Crossfell by Jakei95 is also a huge inspo obviously lol

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quinn-pop · 2 years ago

Text

let’s do some autistic meta knight headcanons!! over explaining my interpretation of meta knight yet again wooooo

this orb has NO idea how to talk to people!!! outside of work anyway. a lot of this is partially due to upbringing (suppressing his emotions all the time) but he does not know how to express emotions, like…at all.

this goes into a few things

1. yeah talking is hard. even after figuring out what he wants to communicate he will struggle. conversation can be so overwhelming, especially under pressure. he will need time lol

2. because of that, forming connections is hard. i really don’t think meta is much for shallow relationships, and certainly not early in the timeline. which also means he has very little experience with friendship. so a lot of the relationships he did have went kinda neglected, and issues that probably could’ve been worked on by talking became…*cough romk* escalated.

3. honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if meta convinced himself he couldn’t feel emotion (anymore) until like. katam-ish. he tried very hard lol

vulnerability is terrifying. (though this gesture here is also just comforting, like his little cape cocoon thing he does.)

unmasking—yeah im taking the mask thing very literally here—is a big deal and a very slow process for mk. i’m sure he has a lot of feelings on that lol. it served as a way to ensure no one could ever, y’know, see him.

i can’t say i think he’d ever fully ditch it—there’s always gonna be some days that are more stressful than others and if having it could help him get through it, it just makes sense. mainly when working.

it really is about vulnerability. granted, i don’t think he has the most expressive face (in my head every astral just tends to stare at things) but i doubt he has much control over it. can’t fake a smile but also can’t hide it. probably blushes easy because yeah, astrals; just look at kirby’s face.

just the idea that someone might be able to read his expression and know what he’s feeling before he’s ready for them to (or even understands it himself…) yeah he doesn’t want that

but emotional turmoil aside, i think his mask also hides a lot of his stims

remember that whole “suppressing your feelings” thing? yeah turns out that ignoring half your instincts isn’t a good idea. so in true meta knight style, he tries to stim as subtly as possible

1. he has the least control over his wings, so they will flick and twitch on their own. they’re usually a good indicator of how he’s feeling, not unlike the body language usually seen in cat ears and tails lol. flapping is also an extension of this of course, though he probably suppresses it more.

2. this also effects when he takes his wings out. pretty much every time he’s excited or nervous it just happens. kinda makes me wonder if his wing cape ordeal might also go into the suppression thing… (i’d say yes, but using a cape is also very comforting so it’s not necessarily a bad thing)

3. going back to the mask thing; he stims a lot underneath it. think like biting or pursing your lips. he bites his tongue and clicks his mouth. that sort of thing. his mask also makes it harder to notice that he is constantly sighing, humming, grumbling…all that

one nice thing about the mask though is that it helps a little bit with lights!!! woo

(look at him and his magically floating glasses)

sensory stuff—i think he’s mostly bothered by light and sound. maybe a bit of texture. he’s pretty sensory avoidant and perfectly happy standing off to the side not touching anything.

the one exception to this is physical affection, which is, despite all of this, most of how he shows affection. it’s a lot easier to hug someone than to try to explain your feelings for them, after all.

i think he would like pressure though. so that’s probably part of it. and i’m pretty sure there’s some connection in here to fighting (dang, is that the only way he knows how to get his energy out?)

anyway, pretty much all of this is in contrast to kirby, who i would gladly nominate as the champion of Doing Whatever He Wants. he might pick up a few bad habits, but he will never mask the way meta knight does. he might not understand how he feels, but he’s in tune enough to express it…usually.

this is a very good thing for meta because it helps him to do the same thing. kirby’s so energetic, it’s hard to not want to stim with him. it reminds meta to be kinder to himself and explore his own emotions. he can also help kirby understand themselves, so this connection is very important.

yeah, at the end of the day, everything kinda just boils down to kirby and mk as parallels

this is the conclusion i promise

to me, meta’s arc is about growing stronger by growing kinder, and this is mostly by learning to be kind to himself. letting himself be a person again, loving and understanding other people, and eventually, letting go of all the expectations placed on him and doing the things he’s always wanted to do…

autism headcanons are fun for me because it’s cathartic to write, but at the same time, it just makes sense in this sort of narrative. meta is, to me, inseparable from these things. and so is kirby! that’s a dynamic that’s a lot of fun to play with, and it’s at the heart of my kirby interpretation.

if you actually read all this WOW thank you

#i almost considered not posting this on a wednesday but then i wrote everything and uhhh yeah i think i gotta so #happy cringe day wednesday #for as many notes as i have on these characters i really don’t talk about it much #but meta knight is a special case because i am terrible at subtlety and he wouldn’t be meta knight without it #so this is to contextualize some things #because of what ill have in the next few days haha #basically these are just things i consider when writing meta #but a lot of it is subtextual and i dont know how well it comes across #kirbyposting #kirby #meta knight #headcanons #autism headcanon #this is practically an essay lol oops #i have like 2/3 of a fic that explores most of this in a way i probably won’t do again #but we’ll see if i ever finish it #god kirby concepts are so fun to chew on #i overthink everything i make so much lol

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allwormdiet · 8 months ago

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Sentinel 9.4

Back in the saddle again

You know, I'm not sure if tinkers actually are "supposed" to be smart. The other examples we have to work off of besides Kid Win are Bakuda (constant state of fucking around and finding out until it killed her), Armsmaster (he of the dumbfuck raid boss solo plot), and Dragon (actually no notes on Dragon's relative intelligence), plus Chariot in just a minute here who literally only succeeds at being a mole because the Protectorate allows him to succeed as a ploy

I'll concede that they're adept engineers and scientists, sure, but you can know how to build a nuclear reactor and still be dumb enough to build it in your backyard. There's no single measure of intelligence that everyone measures high on, that's just not how it goes.

Then again like two-thirds of this chapter are lowkey about Kid having self-esteem issues so like, I get that he's being hard on himself. I feel like half the cape POVs we've gotten so far have self-esteem issues, never mind Taylor Hebert Queen of Self-Image Problems

I'm gonna skim over a lot of this fight like I had in 9.3, but while this can't feel good for one's confidence, honestly I'd mostly just be relieved. Like, yes, let the villains whose powers are Railgun and The Fucking Sun take it easy on me, that's fine, I like my body parts staying in the configuration they have.

Thank God he actually has a chance to feel like he's contributing, without the horror of accidentally killing someone

Wow, Trickster sucks. Why do they put up with this guy?

So, somehow I doubt he's somehow lacking in a specialty, but from the description of his apparent focus issues (plus the fact that taking medication to help with focus nearly took him out) I wonder if the way his tinker stuff goes involves having a bunch of little things, if the lack of focus is somehow a sign of what his specialty actually is.

Oh fucking boy

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay (sarcastic)

Also I don't know why they specifically would go to cities that have already been Endbringered but there's a real "kick them while they're down" energy to it that I do not care for. Goddamn jackals.

Is it the "another tinker" thing or the "that wasn't Armsmaster" thing that he's more excited about lmao

Weld's adapting a little better to his role, and Clockblocker is able to keep his mouth shut and play along, so things are improving.

I dunno man, it's a citywide apocalypse, does bedtime matter anymore?

Hey what the

Fuck

is going on here

Tinker-to-tinker communication

Y'know, now I'm curious what the wages are for a non-Tinker Protectorate member. Obviously Tinkers can have it made if they've got something the higher-ups want, but is Miss Militia making enough to own a house? Is your income tied to merch sales?

Think this is the first time someone has outright said triggering as a parahuman rewires your brain to some extent. Curious to see further elaboration on that.

I think if you're gonna hire a mole, you should make sure they can lie convincingly. That feels like step two.

(Step one is "make sure you can trust this person to be a mole for you")

Fucking gottem

Well hey Kid, looks like you're pulling your weight after all

Current Thoughts

I do think Sentinel is a neat arc but I'll admit, in recounting and rereading this it lost me a little bit. That might just be the Travelers fight though, I could feel the lack of stakes to the fight like a gap between my teeth.

Kid seems like a solid character, classic impulsive inventor with an actual exploration of what that impulsiveness does to his work ethic and self-worth. I'm glad he gets a chance to shine here and I hope he figures out his exact specialization so he can stop being so down on himself

The Wards do seem to be coalescing into more of a team as things progress, sure would be a shame if the resident lone wolf was to fall for obvious bait and disrupt that or something.

#parahumans #wormblr #worm liveblogging #worm sentinel

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mmogurl · 10 months ago

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Daddy Issues Part 4: Comfort

18+ | 3.2k | Homelander X Reader | protective homelander, reader’s back story is a little dark, reader might be a bit of a nympho, mentions of suicide, rape, assault, alcoholism, emotional child abuse. This was supposed to be the last chapter, but the story has officially been extended by at least another chapter or maybe one more if I’m feeling froggy. Enjoy!

Part 1: Savior | Part 2: Baseline | Part 3: Spoiled | Part 4: Comfort

Tags: @screaming-potato

As Homelander busies himself putting out the fire, you attempt to undress for bed, but since the tent is not high enough for you to stand in, you find the task much more complicated than it should be. It’s a strained process of getting on your back and awkwardly pulling your designer jeans off, especially as they get stuck around your calves and you flounder like a fish to get them fully past your ankles. You’ve literally never had to take your pants off like this and you consider it a downside to camping.

Other than the lack of height, the tent is rather spacious, pleasant even. You sit up, sliding your hoodie over your head and fold it briefly before tossing it to the corner. Looking down at your chest, you beam when you see the Journey logo on your t-shirt. You’ve never actually been to one of their shows, but you still really love the band. In fact, it’s one of the few good memories you have of your mother: listening to music together. It’s one thing she had good taste in at least.

In nothing but your shirt, bra, and underwear, you snuggle down into the bed Homelander has prepared that takes up most of the tent’s floor. There’s some kind of padding beneath you that is way more comfortable than it has a right to be considering you’re sleeping on the surface of dirt and grass. He’s lined it with an unraveled sleeping bag, large enough for two to lay on, with another placed on top to use as a blanket. It’s clear he has no intention of sleeping separately from you, even when in the close confines of this shelter.

It’s already quite dark by the time Homelander unzips the outside flap to the tent and comes inside. He drops a few bags of supplies to the side and turns on a solar powered lantern. You squint as your eyes adjust and he begins to disrobe, wondering briefly if he turned the light on just to torture you. He unfastens the bib of his supesuit, pulling it down to the side to reveal the zipper underneath. You can barely concentrate on the small talk he offers as he removes the jacket and places it in a neat pile besides his already folded cape.

“I think our first camping trip was a success, don’t you?”

“Mmhm,” you reply close-mouthed, already biting your lip as he takes off his belt, unbuttoning the top of his tight blue pants.

You can’t take it anymore and turn away from him, trying to calm yourself as you feel the blush rising in your cheeks, your heart pounding. Sure, he slept in those damn red briefs every night, but usually he came into the bedroom already wearing them. You never got to watch him strip though and you can’t help but be overwhelmed by the desire you’re feeling as a result.

It’s not like these thoughts are helpful, since you already tried to broach the topic of your relationship earlier and Homelander dodged you, opting instead to talk about his past. You’re grateful he opened up to you, but still feel tormented by your feelings for him. Considering the two of you are already going through the motions of living as a happy couple, it feels strange to not be romantically involved.

You hear the rustle of sleek fabric as Homelander slides into the makeshift bed, close, but still a too-safe distance away. “Did you have a good time tonight?” he asks, his tone with a hint of worry as though he’s afraid you didn’t.

Braving the vision of his bare body that no doubt awaits, you turn back to face him. He’s propped himself up on his pillow, his weight on his elbow as he looks you over for signs of negativity. Thankfully, he’s mostly covered with just his waist up exposed. It’s still difficult not to gulp as he continues to talk.

“Were the hot dogs too burnt? Maybe I should get a grate for the pit. Make it like a grill…” he’s rambling on about his ideas, looking off to the side as he considers the possibilities.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s as nervous as you are or if he’s just oblivious. It’s sometimes hard to tell with Homelander.

Clearing your throat in an attempt to focus your sex starved brain onto the matter at hand, you interrupt him. “Yeah they were a little burnt, but it’s OK. It’s not like I’ve ever cooked a hot dog over an open fire before. So, I’m not complaining.” You shift between the blankets, rolling onto your back as you cross your hands beneath your head.

Homelander lets out a sigh and your turn your head to see that he’s mimicked your position. He’s looks at the ceiling of the tent, folding one hand under his head and resting the other on his stomach. He glances back at you, giving a small hum in response, as if he were lost in thought for a moment.

“Yeah, it’ll be better next time. We just need a little practice,” he says with an unsure grin, turning his attention back to the ceiling. It’s quiet for several moments and it seems like the conversation is going to die, until he finally adds, “You know. I’m glad you’re here… with me.”

You give him a touched smile, surprised by his direct display of affection. You’re used to reading between the lines with Homelander, judging how he feels mostly by his actions when there is a lack of meaningful words. Even though you know he appreciates your company, especially given he is so desperate for it, it’s a nice change to hear him actually admit it out loud.

“Yeah, me too,” you say feeling at a loss for words. “This was a cool idea.”

His features seem to relax considerably when you return the gesture with gratitude. You can’t help but get distracted by the cold glow of the lantern reflecting in and accentuating his already blue eyes, but you don’t miss when they travel down your form. His glance flicking down your shoulder and to your side, then hanging longer than usual at the tease of your thighs peering out from under the sleeping bag.

When he sees you take notice, he tries to play off his leer with concern. “Are you cold?” he questions, his voice coming off casual.

You raise your brow knowingly, but let is slide. “Nah,” you reply with a smirk. “These bags are surprisingly warm. They’re almost too hot.” You glance down at your legs and decide to kick the blanket off further. “Besides, I always sleep like this.”

His eyes darken as he takes in the expanse of your bare legs. Homelander swallows, trying to keep his cool, but failing miserably as his gaze lingers persistently on your newly exposed skin.

“Always, huh?” He comments absentmindedly, the corner of his mouth twitching.

You had hoped to get his attention, sure, but now you can’t take the oppressive way he is staring at you. You’re not sure if it’s creeping you out or turning you on - it’s probably a combination of both. You try to think of a way to make things feel less awkward and manage to murmur out something anything but.

“Besides, at least I have a shirt on… You’re a pair of briefs away from being completely naked.” It sounds better in your head, than when you actually say it. Shit! Your squirm internally, realizing you’ve just backed yourself further into a corner. If this were any other situation, you’d gladly take the opportunity to jump his bones, but this is different. He is different.

Homelander scoffs with a look of incredulity. “I-I’m never cold,” he tries to assert with false bravado, but his tone falters under your gaze. He stumbles over his next words, trying to maintain his usual cockiness. “I’m a supe… A-and my body generates a lot of heat.” He mutters, trying to excuse his propensity to wear minimal clothing in bed.

“So, that’s why it always gets so damn hot,” you consider openly, distracted momentarily by the revelation. It seemed every night since you started staying with Homelander, you woke up sweating, having to kick the covers off completely from the sweltering heat. “Hmm,” she muses, “Well at least we won’t need a space heater in here.”

“No need for that,” he mutters, his tone lower than before.

The drop in octave is a subtle warning that forces your attention back to him, but not quickly enough. In a flurry of movement, the sleeping bags ruffle loudly as Homelander pounces on top of you. His eyes are wild, almost feral, as they rove over your body, his hands pinning your arms to the ground.

“I can keep you warm, beautiful,” his voice is smooth and strangely confident considering how cringe the line had been. You’re pretty sure from the way he was stammering just moments ago, that it’s an act though. You can’t possibly mind, given the close proximity of his body and how good he feels weighing down on you.

But the reality of what’s happening begins to dawn on you, your eyes growing wide as he traps you beneath him. Why is he making a move now after he’s ignored the temptation of you for so long? And why does it feel so forced and wrong? It should feel perfect given everything else the two of you have shared so far.

You find protest and confusion are the first emotions that war to the surface. “U-Uh… Homelander?” you say stupidly, unable to even focus with the feel of his bare legs against yours and his cock stiffening against your thigh. “W-what are you doing?”

Homelander’s chest rumbles with a low growl when you question him, as if your words pissed him off. “What does it look like?” he snaps back, his voice dripping with annoyance.

He tightens his grip on your forearms, his knees forcing your legs further apart so he can settle his hips against yours. He’s untethered, unlike his usual calculated persona, and there’s an element of desperation marking his features.

His eyes are dark now, the sky blue color drowning in dilated pupils. “I’m doing what I should have done weeks ago.”

“W-wait…” you find yourself babbling. “Shouldn’t we- Shouldn’t we talk about this first?” You gulp, the spit getting stuck in your throat as your try to swallow. You plead with him, your lip trembling slightly with the implications of what this will mean for your fledgling relationship.

He starts lifting up your shirt with a devious grin plastered across his face and you’re instantly torn between so many warring emotions. Lust and the deprivation of release that sex had provided you with is hugely present, but there’s also a remorse, a shame hanging heavy on your conscience. It would be so easy to let go and indulge in what he was offering, but….

“I don’t want to fuck this up!” you bark out suddenly, almost confusing yourself by the sound of it.

Homelander’s smirk falters for a moment, his eyes slightly narrowing in response. His hand pauses in the act of lifting your shirt any further, and he looks positively morose.

He pulls away completely then, retreating back to his own space and leaving you cold in the absence of his heat. Homelander regards you with a cross expression, urging you to clarify.

“What do you even meant by that?” he asks, the lurid aggression now gone from his voice, replaced with sharp accusation. “I thought you wanted this.”

“I do,” you say feeling stupid for sounding so contrary. “But, you haven’t shown any interest in me all month. Then all of a sudden you jump my bones? Why did you change your mind so suddenly about us?”

Homelander lets out a weary sigh, folding his arms against his chest as he looks away. He’s clearly not enjoying this change of mood, but he does offer a response.

“Nothing’s changed suddenly,” he grumbles with bitter emphasis. “I’ve wanted you for weeks now, you have no idea…” he admits sullenly, his eyes shifting back to you.

“It’s just…” he trails off with a groan. “It’s a little harder for me than you might think. And I didn’t want you to think…” He stops himself short, letting a huff through his nose before continuing in a much softer tone. “To think that I just wanted you… for that…”

You stare at him bewildered for a moment, almost amused by his petulant manner. It takes a moment to even understand what he’s getting at, but then you finally grasp what he means.

“Ohhhh,” you say sounding like an astonished stoner. “You mean, you didn’t want me to think you were just interested in sex?”

He is clearly a little embarrassed now, his cheeks flushing and his eyes looking off to the side again in avoidance. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here in this tent, having this conversation with you.

Reluctantly, he mutters out, “Yeah…”

You feel a pang in your heart, trying to hold back the reaction you want to give which undoubtedly would involve tearing up as you let out an ‘Awwww.’ It’s so fucking adorable how impossibly awkward he is, how he’s always trying even when it seems like he’s being shitty and inconsiderate.

Your body acts on its own accord, getting to your knees as you crawl towards him, hesitant if only for the lack of clothes between your bodies. In the past, you’d have been so forward with him, not even hesitating if he came on to you. Now you find yourself afraid to make the wrong move.

You place your hands on each of his knees, looking at him as the memories flood back. The whole point in Homelander taking you in had been to rehabilitate you in a away. ‘You need someone to save you from yourself’ as he had so aptly put it on that life changing night. It was no wonder he was now torn by the idea of fucking you.

“And you don’t want to be a part of the problem?” you ask, feeling like you’ve got a pretty good grasp on the issue at hand now.

Homelander tries poorly to maintain a look of stoicism, glancing almost neurotically at your hands traveling up his thighs. He reaches down to grab your wrists, keeping them from moving any further as though trying to isolate himself from your touch.

“Yeah, something like that,” he replies, trying to brush it off.

You offer him a smile as the warmth of his thoughtfulness fills you with content satisfaction. Never before has anyone been this considerate of your well being and even though you had your doubts about essentially being held hostage by Homelander’s good intentions, you are are now incredibly grateful that he cared enough to try.

Slipping your wrist out from his loose grip, you rear up on your knees, placing a hand tenderly on his cheek. “Thank you,” is all you can even think of to say, because it’s all that keeps running through your head. How appreciative you are for this experience, a connection you didn’t think was possible with another person.

Homelander leans into your touch as though starved for affection, his cheeks hot under your gentle touch. A reverent look settles in his eyes as he processes what you’ve said, and he pulls you onto his lap with an urgent need. His arms wrap around your waist, holding your tightly against him, acting as though he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

You’re startled at first by the closeness and strength of his embrace, but you relax quickly. Cradling his head against your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, soothing him because it just feels like he really needs that right now.

“Look, we don’t have to rush,” you find yourself reassuring him in a calming voice. You can sense his desperation, the need to be held, nurtured, and cared for. They’re not unlike your own cravings. “To be honest… This with you… Feels much better than all of the empty sex I’ve had combined.” You utter a nervous laugh, hoping he gets what you mean and won’t judge you. “Let’s just.. Let it happen naturally. Hm?”

He nods his head slightly, his face nuzzling to the side so he can respond. “Yeah… Just,” he begins to speak in a quiet voice. “Just promise me something.”

You lean back slightly so you can look down at him, “What is it?”

One of his hands roams to your hip, his grip flexing as he pulls you closer. “Don’t go running back to your old life. Don’t leave me.”

You can’t help but melt, grasping his dear face in your hands at the heartbreaking sound of his familiar loneliness. It was an aching sadness you knew all too well. “Oh my sweet boy,” you say without hesitation. “I would never leave you…” Never is a strong word, but you’re pretty sure you actually mean it. After all, nobody has ever taken such good care of you in your entire life. Not your parents, not friends, certainly not boyfriends. There was a pull between you and this man that you felt certain couldn’t be severed.

“Besides,” you add with a sardonically pointed laugh. “You already said the first night you took me in, that you’d hunt me down if I tried to run away.”

Finally, he cheers up when he hears your acceptance of his overzealous behavior. The corners of his mouth ticking up in a smirk as he shifts backwards, making some space between you both. “Damn right I will,” he barks out with a scoff, the scared little boy retreating once more as his prideful counterpart steps forth.

You can’t help but crack up at how quickly he falls back into line with his typical arrogant behavior, but at least now you see it for what it truly is.

“Do you wanna try and get some sleep?” you ask as a small yawn escapes you. Suddenly the thought of finally getting to feel those arms holding you tightly all night, the safety and security of it, sounds really appealing. “We could get some cuddle time in.”

Homelander chuckles when you mention cuddling, his eyebrows rise as he relishes the idea. “I’m down for that, he says with a sly grin on his face. “As long as I get to be the big spoon.”

“Aww, c’mon!” you feign complaint as you drop down from his lap and lay down with your back towards him. “I wanted to be the big spoon!”

“Too bad, princess,” Homelander hums as he crawls up behind you. He drapes himself against you, pulling you closer until your back is pressed flush to his broad chest. You fit nicely against him, like two lost puzzle pieces that have finally come together to complete a full picture.

You make a pouty little sound as you wiggle your back into him, nestling your head into your pillow as you get comfortable. As you settle, he responds with a huff of contentment, his hand snaking around your waist and trapping you in place securely. You feel protected, shielded, from everything bad in his arms. Drifting off, you can’t help but muse, that even though he might not realize it, Homelander really is a hero. Your hero.

Holy shit, guys.. This was officially the fluffiest fluff from the land of fluffington. What the fuck did I just write? I think my Daemon fic has been so raunchy as of late, that I had to make up for it with all of this sweet as apple pie Homelander fluff. Oh well, you guys love it! :)

#homelander fanfiction #homelander x reader #homelander #homelander x you #fanfic #writing prompt #antony starr #daddy issues

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tinycheesecakedetective · 1 year ago

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...I'm baaaack.

I mean, I made one post about Swap!PV and then got distracted for months, so I wouldn't really call this a comeback. The moment I did come back though, apparently a bunch of lore just fell from the sky! Beast Yeast is upon us and all of a sudden I remember making an alt. version of this goober.

Turns out there were a few things I wasn't satisfied with in the first one, so here I am with my Swap!Vanilla 2.0 human edition! Even after all this time I still don't have a name for him. There's more white in his design, he has four horns instead of two and they form a crown on his head(that might be a bit hard to see), he also has a halo, his staff changed drastically, and he lost his soul gem. Instead he has two new smaller gems on his "ribcage".

This time around I tried to invoke more death themes, hence the ribcage, more wrappings, the halo, and the burn marks from, y'know, being re-baked and essentially reborn. The halo also makes for a nice double meaning, showing his somewhat good intentions behind the violence and spreading chaos gig.

Speaking of intentions, I maybe or maybe not have mentioned the only swaps happening in this proposed AU are between PV and WL and [possibly] Black Raisin and Red Velvet. I say maybe because if I checked, all the writing would disappear and I would have to start over again. However, I have wondered if those two swapped, how would PV handled the kingdoms? Would it be the same as DE or would the fates of each kingdom end up being swapped as well? It's something I definitely need to think on and develop.

Anyways, ramble break, here's a few doodles I did for Swap!PV!

Yeah, I had a lot of fun doing this. SO! A few changes not mentioned prior. Eyes! There are more eyes, especially on his coat. I took a bit of inspiration from a certain blue jester and his realm of nightmares. It also plays nicely with the whole "truth revealed" theme. Why not give the holder of the light of truth a bunch of opened eyes to represent his awakening? Also they looked good and his cape-coat was too plain without it.

Fun Head Canons: He's always floating, even when he's relaxing his feet never touch the floor. This PV still has a lily garden, it's just hidden away because while he still misses WL despite everything, he refuses to show weakness in front of others. His coat can take the shape of angel wings when angry and multiple eyes can appear when furious or in distress. Speaking of eyes, the ones on his coat glow. Those gems on him are pieces of moonstone that got corrupted after saving him.

As for the story behind him, I had to make a few adjustments. For one, DE and WL are two halves of the same whole, and the only reason either of them exists is thanks to precautions taken by Elder Faerie. Which means Pure Vanilla somehow has to get the stuff from Lily, who came to Beast Yeast without saying much of anything to anyone beforehand. Secondly, it means the Pure Vanilla Kingdom can't be the last kingdom explored. Pre Beast Yeast, the order in which the kingdoms would be explored would change, where White Lily's area would be explored first instead and the Vanilla Kingdom would be last. I'll address the second issue on a different post related to White Lily, but first things first. Fair warning, I wrote quite a bit.

~~~

After forming the seal, White Lily falls ill due to the immense amount of power used. She's not used to using so much of her soul gem, much less creating a seal to lock away ancient evils. Seeing her faltering state, Elder Faerie takes her away to his palace to help her recover. During her time in the palace, White Lily becomes distressed because not only does she feel like she's being a burden, but she won't be able to continue her research on how cookies were made. That was the whole point of coming here, after all. She left her friends and home behind to find the truth and ended up sick and bed ridden instead. The least she could do to redeem herself was to find the truth.

Racked with guilt and regret, she asks Elder Faerie for two favors; she wishes to know the secret behind cookies' creation, and she requests a pen and paper to write with. Before long, White Lily gains a messenger(Silverbell) who gives her books from the library to read, and a way to reach the one other person she understands. Someone who should've known where she was most of all. Pure Vanilla Cookie.

From there the two keep exchanging letters as White Lily brushes up on fae and beast lore. But eventually White Lily would learn about the Night of the Witches in a similar enough way to canon, i.e. finding the book about it. While she's recovered enough, she's still not well enough to go, and Elder Faerie isn't risking her well being and safety for a banquet. She's devastated that her questions may never be answered. If only she could go, if only there was some way to witness it while being in the Fairy Kingdom. And then... she realizes something. Perhaps there is a way for her to know after all...

White Lily, in the discomfort of her hospital bed, writes a letter to Pure Vanilla and asks him to go to the Witch's Banquet in her place. She knows that this is a huge ask, and he has every reason to refuse the favor, but it would mean the world to her if he did. Elder Faerie hears about this and is rightfully worried, telling her about the dangers, and any cookie that goes doesn't come back the same, if at all. He sends his own letter to Pure Vanilla to warn him of the dangers that lie ahead. A few more letters come in from WL apologizing for her request, saying it was out of line and inappropriate. "What a selfish request," she thinks, "after leaving him in the dark for so long, I have the nerve to ask him for anything at all?"

However, despite everything, he eventually decides to go. He knows that this means everything to her, and a part of Pure Vanilla secretly wondered about it as well. White Lily searched heaven and earth to find the truth so she could help others. Why would he keep avoiding it for so long? If he knew the truth as well, perhaps he could use these secrets to help the people of Earthbread alongside her. Maybe now he would finally understand White Lily more.

He wrote a letter addressed to both WL and EF about his final decision. White Lily is surprised at his decision, and is eternally grateful, while Elder Faerie is more resigned and concerned, knowing that he won't be able to change his mind but still wanting to help. He asks her to help write her next letter, and the two send a package to Pure Vanilla. Inside was another letter with the faint smell of lilies, as well as a map to the location of the banquet and a moonstone from Elder Faerie as a show of goodwill and for protection. He in turn sends what would become his final letter to her, unbeknownst to the two reading. He expresses his gratefulness to both WL and EF and declares his determination to find answers both for her and for the sake of everyone, stating, "Let me be your hope when you have none, and you my guiding light in shadows..."

Pure Vanilla proceeds to head to the Witch's Banquet, discovers the bitter truth, and in his attempts to save the other cookies falls into the ultimate dough. The fleeting scent of lilies is the last thing he grasps in his final moments, and the faint glow of a moonstone ensures his survival. His soul gem shatters under the weight of the truth and is scattered across the world, longing to be made whole once again.

~~~

Well! I think I have said everything I can say about him for now. I'm sure I can come up with more things later, but if you read this far, thanks for reading! I did not know I was going to say this much, so yeah. Next post is for White Lily specifically, I hope. I'm also taking suggestions for ideas about the other kingdoms and ways this could go, so if you have anything to suggest, let me know. Y'all have a good evening!

#crk au #crk art #cookie run kingdom #pure vanilla cookie #white lily cookie #elder faerie cookie #cookie run fanart #pure vanilla crk #cookie run au #why did i make this so damn long #fadinglettersau

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blessedgirthma · 3 months ago

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Joker Needs To Die

Back again with another DC-centric post! This time we'll be continuing my rambling about the Joker and Batman.

Spoilers are down below for a number of Batman stories, including the first issue of Hush 2.

So, I was reading the first issue of Hush 2 and watched as the Joker was taken by the Silence to Thomas Elliot and tortured.

I am sure this was very cathartic for you Jason Todd and Barbara Gordon fans. Even I have to admit that there's a little bit of sweetness in the Joker getting a little bit of torture for all the stuff he's done. Regardless, Hush ends up torturing him until Batman shows back up and finds him.

So the choice is simple. Whether it'd be Joker or Hush, personally, I'm leaning toward Joker since he seems to be the one speaking in the recording, but at the end of the day, Batman is given the chance to let his nemesis die. He doesn't have to bloody his hands; Hush has already done all the dirty work, and now all he has to do is let the Joker die.

Some believe that the Joker is already dead here, but given the cover of the next issue,

And the synopsis: "H2SH WITH JEPH LOEB AND JIM LEE CONTINUES! After the shocking events of the last issue, Batman must make the hardest decision of his life! Guest-starring Nightwing, Batgirl, and Red Hood!"

I think the Joker is definitely still alive here.

For me, I have the theory that both Joker and Hush orchestrated all of this, with Hush using the Silence to incapacitate the Joker so he doesn't pull any wild card moves, all for this little test to push Batman since we all know he's going to save the Joker. But given the cover of the next issue, I also believe that Jason will show up and he and Batman will have a conflict where the ex-Robin will try to stop his old mentor and father figure from saving the clown prince of crime since by all means, this seems to be as good a chance as any to finally finish things.

They can finally wash their hands of the freak. They don't even have to do anything, and the Joker will die all on his own. But with Batman being Batman, he still tries to save the clown since even though the Caped Crusader probably hates the clown prince of crime more than anyone else, to him, leaving Joker to die is still murder. They'll probably fight, with Batman agonizing over the chance to finally let Joker die, which is one of the reasons why I believe the Joker himself is a part of this whole plan. But eventually, the time will come where we'll be able to finally see if the clown bites it.

Now, let's get to the point of this post, where I believe that,

THE JOKER SHOULD DIE!!!!

Over the past few decades, I feel like we've been going nowhere with the relationship between Batman and the Joker. Heck, I even made a separate post about it. But to go into further detail, I want to ask the question of what was the most significant thing Joker has done in the past 20 or so years of comic history.

In 1988, we got the Killing Joke, where the Joker was at his absolute worst. Paralyzing Barbara and traumatizing Jim, he was an utter monster. I do want to make a separate post about the story and how we finally got a glimpse at the man behind the clown makeup and saw an actual calm interaction between him and the Bat.

Funnily enough, 1988 was also the year the Death in the Family story came out with Joker killing Jason. It's probably one of the most important Batman stories to come out, right alongside the Killing Joke. But to ask another question, when's the last time we've gotten a story like that?

Now, I might not be as big of a Joker fan as I think I am because there could be stories like those out there that are just as extreme as those, but from what I've seen, only those two are the real stand-out stories, right alongside Knightfall.

Sure, we've had stories like Death of the Family, where the Joker cuts his face off. But that time around, he more or less targeted the Bat-family rather than Batman directly and instead damages his relationships with the rest of the family. After that, we had Endgame, where both Batman and Joker die in their 'final' battle.

From there, the most notable Joker story after that was Joker War, where he takes all of Batman's money and uses it against him. In the end, this left the Caped Crusader broke and without a lot of his resources. After that, we then have the two Joker comics, which were fun, especially the first, where we see Jim Gordon finally manage to find some peace with his experiences with the Joker.

The second Joker story was also fun, but it was pretty confusing with the whole 2 Joker's angle. But at the end, when the Joker emerges from the water and he's asked which one he is between the two, I love how he simply said that he was the Joker. That it didn't matter who he was, only that he kept the people of Gotham smiling at the end of the day.

Dark Prisons then came and went, and we got a taste of the Joker's first year after falling into the vat of acid. I'm personally conflicted about the story, but I think it was fine, and it was also pretty fun to see the Joker finally come into his own as the clown prince of crime.

Now, here we are, Hush 2 and Joker has to be saved by Batman. Whether or not he does it is still up in the air. But I'm personally leaning toward him surviving. I could be wrong, however.

But throughout all of these stories, prior to Hush 2 and after the Killing Joke and Death in the Family fiasco, what impact has Joker really made in that time?

Sure, he hurt the relationship between Batman and his family and even took all his money. But the thing about comics is that it all has to return to the status quo at the end of the day. Batman reformed his relationships with his family, something he had to do a couple of times, thanks to people like Bane, Thomas Wayne Batman, and Zur-En-Arrh, and now more recently, he's gotten his money back and is back to living in a mansion.

All in all, besides Alfred being gone, which was something that was due to Bane and Thomas Wayne Batman, nothing has changed since the 1980s when Death in the Family and Killing Joke came out. Sure, Jason might be back now, but Under the Red Hood was more or less his story rather than the Joker's.

All of this to say that the Joker hasn't really done anything all that noteworthy in that time besides a few instances where he does some messed up or funny stuff. This leads me to my final point in how the Joker should die for his relationship with Batman to progress.

For those who are in the know about the deeper parts of the relationship between Batman and Joker, you know that the obsession the Joker has with the Caped Crusader goes both ways. There's a cover for Death of the Family that fits this perfectly.

Joker is on Batman's mind as much as Batman is on Joker's. The relationship between the two of them is equal parts hate, love, and obsession.

So, having the Joker kick the bucket is to remove a relationship that has been a part of Batman's life since he first put on the cowl. Some might say he wouldn't care, but with the obsene amount of times he's gone out of his way to save the Joker's life whether it'd be throwing him into the Lazerus pit to bring him back to life, or deciding to help him while he was bleeding out instead of chasing a criminal it's clear that no matter what he might try to believe, Batman cares to an extent for the Joker.

This would then give Batman the chance to feel something different about his role as Gotham's protector. Sure, people like Bane or the Penguin might be bad, but the Joker is supposed to be the worst out of all of them. He has to be the one to push Batman to his absolute limits, whether it'd be copywriting fish or beating one of his sidekicks to death. The Joker's unpredictability is what made him such a fearsome foe for the level-headed and strategic-minded person that Batman is.

This is a relationship that has been 80+ years in the making, and there hasn't been any real change between the two of them beyond the Joker doing something and Batman having to come and stop him. And sure, there's something to that. Having this eternal relationship where it'll continue for more decades to come.

But I think now more than ever we need a flagpole moment, similar to the Killing Joke and Death in the Family. And I think the best we could get is for Joker to finally die and just let Batman and the rest of the DC world sit on that.

Imagine Harley Quinn feeling a mix of relief and sadness. Relief that the Joker was now gone, but still having that part of herself that loves him even after everything he did to her grieve after his death. Or maybe Jason realized that even after the Joker's death, he's still angry and bitter, and that fire inside him isn't something necessarily attached to the Joker, and he has to work through it some other way.

But I think the most important effect would be on Batman himself. He'd have to change a few things about how he went after crime since the worst of the worst in the form of the Joker is finally gone. Of course, he won't stay gone forever.

The Joker is still one of DC's main cash cows, and I feel like they wouldn't want to keep him shelved for too long. But when he does come back, Batman will once again have to change along with the Joker since they've finally seen what happens when he dies and the peace and change that comes from such a thing.

Perhaps Batman will kill the Joker again to keep the peace of mind he once had when he was gone. Or maybe the Joker will be more vicious and violent than ever before since he's gotten a taste for death and is no longer afraid of it, if he ever was. In any case, the Joker dying would undoubtedly shift the dynamic between him and Batman into new directions that could really spark some new life and excitement between the two of them.

That's why I'm excited to see this new Joker in the Absolute universe and watch how their relationship grows just as close as it is in the main DC universe. But for what we're getting now in the main continuity, it's always just been the same stuff. I think the Joker himself put it best when he said in the Batman Arkham Knight DLC A Matter of Family when he's getting ready to fire a rocket at Batgirl and Robin,

"Oh, see. It used to be simple. I blow things up. He shows up. Start all over again."

But for the relationship between Batman and Joker to continue surviving for as long as it has and stand the test of time, there needs to be a change to that dynamic. We've had the age of Batman stopping the Joker; now, we need something new.

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iconuk01 · 4 months ago

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(Want to put this one out for public) What would you say is the most impressive action figure you've personally bought?

"Impressive" is a tough word considering the… let's be charitable and say "significant" number of figures I've collected over many, many years.

I have many I consider beautiful, or iconic representations of characters I love, but that's not the same thing, though there is heavy overlap as I tend to only buy figures of characters I like.

I have even been gifted with some extraordinary unique ones, in the form of unreleased versions, or custome mad figures by incredibly talented people.

But you didn't ask for "Favourite" or "Most valuable", you asked for "Impressive" and even then I can only narrow it down to a few

I own an original G1 Transformers Japanese box set of the Predacons. (It was more of a complicated international (three continent) swap between different fandoms, but I did the co-ordinating, and money was involved in getting this as my end result)

This one isn't mine, but it's the same set

The individual beast modes look great, their individual robot modes are cool and Predaking himself is freaking awesome.

It might be cheating as it's not a single figure, its a combiner but it was SOLD as the combined figure so I'm loopholing it in! :P

The Figma Table Museum series is amazing, with action figure representations of figures from art and history, including DaVinci's Vitruvian Man, Botticelli's Birth of Venus, Michelangelo's David, Munsch's The Scream and Rodin's Thinker amongst others

But my favourite is their Tutankhamun, which has a staggering level of detail. The regular version has the mummy with a beautiful sculpt of the famous death mask. The DX version includes one of the sarcophagi that the mummy was found in, which the figure fits inside and, again, the sculpting is remarkable.

Plus a random shout out to Figma's other figures, which are never less than impressive

And I would be remiss if I didn't include at least one of the Saint Seiya Myth Cloths (So, I'm going to include two).

Andromeda Shun is one of my all time favourite characters, and the figures they have created for him are stunning, especially once the geeks who grew up on the roginal anime grew up and started working on making action figures themselves

This is what the original mass market 1987 figure for Shun looked like which, I should add in case I seem churlish, I remain inordinately fond of.

This is what the 2010 Myth Cloth looked like

Bit of a glow up, isn't it! :) (Pricewise too, but that's neither here nor there)

And the Gold Libra Saint remains a remarkable creation, the representational form of a pair of weighing scales transforming nicely into not only the Cloth itself, but the six pairs of weapons it contains, one for each of the Gold Saints

Honourable mention to several of NECA's lines, like Gargoyles and Fraggle Rock, which are impressive sculpts

Oh, and a shoutout out for sheer mechanical creativity goes to the BeastBox series from 52Toys. The main gimmick being that each figure, no matter how large or complex, unfolds from a standard modular 1.5" cube shape

I only have a few of them, because I suspect I could get VERY hooked on these, but these include White Noise, the owl (looking like Bubo from Clash of the Titans got an upgrade)

and Ironblood and Loyalheart, the twin battle bunnies who share a cube between them

However, I suspect I will surprise no one in that perhaps the one that continues to impress me each and every time I see it is one related to another characterI am forever associated with.

Which is of course, Robin, the Boy Wonder!

This is the Hot Toys Batman 1966 version, which is a superb 11" figure generally (allowing for some of the ever present issues with fabrics on smaller figures, meaning his cape is rather over-stitched so it's not too fragile)

But it's the face sculpt which gets me every time, this is way beyond the uncanny valley and right into the downright eeriely lifelike (And no surprise there, Hot Toys are legendary for their likenesses)

THIS is a plastic sculpt and paint job? They've even given him freaking FRECKLES!! (He probably has nose hair too, though I admit I've never checked for that... I'm weird, but not THAT flavour of weird)

Though, me being me, you might also not be surprised that I am also fond of the sculpting on this other Hot Toys Robin, though in that case, it's not just the face ;) !

#action figures #saint seiya #hot toys #figma #beastbox #52toys #transformers

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literallylyn27-02-96 · 1 year ago

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Dad Lance and Silver headcanons!!

From being champion for so long, Lance has a lot of entertaining and fun stories, and Silver really likes getting to hear them.

Banter. So much banter. Silver loves to mock him for being "old, as well as "a flying type trainer."

Lance uses a lot of names like "kid" "kiddo" and also some pet names. He likes to call Silver "his little champion." Sometimes too.

Lance teaches Silver how to care for baby dragon pokemon and dragon pokemon in general. Silver actually really enjoys it, and finds it a bit therapeutic! (Not that he'd ever admit it-)

Silver would never admit it, but he can actually be kind of clingy when it comes to Lance. He doesn't like it if he has to go away for long periods of time, or even if someone else is getting more attention from him then he is 😤 that's his dad. (Not that he'd ever admit it.)

He's good at hiding his clinginess for the most part, but 9/10 Lance sees through it.

Silver, unsurprising, has a lot of trouble sleeping. He's got that C-PTSD/Anxiety combo that constantly keeps him up at night with paranoia and gives him non-stop nightmares, so it's rare for him to get the full eight hours. (Lance is trying to help-)

Silver is cold pretty much all the time, whereas Lance is warm pretty much all of the time. This results in Silver constantly leaning into Lance for warmth, which he is adamant is "totally not a hug!"

He also has this habit of wrapping Lance’s cape around himself and stealing it when he's not looking. And eventually, his Sneasel also picks up on this trait, which Silver finds hilarious.

The other champions absolutely adore Silver. The first time he met them Silver was (Though again, he'd never admit it because he's so strong and intimidating ofc) incredibly shy, so he wouldn't say much. Which sparked them all to immediately awe at how "cute" he was. (Much to Silver's disdain.) Along with "he's the spitting image of Lance!"

Which is why Lance has to constantly remind them: "you know he's not biologically my child, right?" (He refuses to say "not my actual son." Silver is his actual son no matter what DNA says.) Though the other champions refuse to believe him due to the fact they do look similar. /hj.

Lance gets incredibly happy every time Silver accidentally calls him Dad, or even when he finally starts doing it on purpose. (He definitely cried the first time it actually happened once Silver wasn't looking—)

Silver is deficient in iron and thus is incredibly sleepy very often and also pretty sick, meaning Lance is constantly on the look out just to make sure he isn't hiding any flare ups or issues from him, and that he keeps any medicine or snacks he might need to sustain his illness close by.

Silver actually picks up on a lot of Lance's personality traits! Once he's lived with him long enough that is. He develops a liking for bad jokes, (which he's very upset about-) more of an understanding and kindliness towards Pokémon as well as a lot more gentle personality.

But of course he is also still Silver and quick to get defensive if any of those things get pointed out, or if someone annoys him. He's just a lot less violent and (slightly) less rude about it-

It's a tradition in the Blackthorn Dragon Clan that Dragon trainer's get their first cape along with their first Pokémon. However, when Lance takes in Silver he of course already has his first Pokémon, so instead when Lance gives him his first (handmade by himself) cape he declares it "Silver's official welcoming into the family. (And no Silver definitely doesn't cry.)

Silver was really nervous at first about the fact that Giovanni was his dad, and tried to keep it hidden from Lance because he knew he hated them just as much as he did and he was worried Lance wouldn't wanna keep him around anymore. But one day Lance found a missing person description about Giovanni's son, that was oddly fitting of Silver, so he was able to put two and two together.

Of course, he still accepted Silver, since Lance believes more than anyone that people's blood relations don't define them, and that family are those you choose, which really helped strengthen their bond as father and son.

Lance is a morning person. Silver is not. Lance will be awake at 10:00 in the morning feeling refreshed whilst cooking breakfast, Silver will be flopped over on the living room couch wishing Arceus would strike him down then and there so he doesn't have to go through the pain that is fully waking up <33.

Silver doesn't like the dark. He doesn't like how vulnerable it makes him feel, and it reminds him of living with Giovanni and constantly having to hear the sadistic conversations he would have with the Rocket Grunts, and so he has a habit of sleeping with a lamp on when he moves in with Lance.

Giovanni used to always talk about Silver being "the heir to the throne" for Team Rocket, which always made him really uncomfortable. Even before he had worked through his personal issues about his views on Pokémon, Silver despised the idea of doing anything for the organisation. So Lance always makes it clear that even though Silver is training under his teachings, he is in no way obligated to go down the same path as him and become champion unless that's what he wants.

Lance hates leaving Silver along for long periods of time because he knows that boy will not look after himself at all. He has to constantly text reminders to eat, drink, take medicine, etc. So if he does have to go away for any League related things or anything else, nine times out of ten he's taking Silver with him.

Lance had to teach Silver a lot of self-care he didn't really understand due to living out on the streets for so long. The first time he ever brushed his hair was heck because of how tangled and knotted it was, but miraculously, they got there in the end.

He also had to teach Silver that a lot of things he thought were normal, actually, are not!

"No, Sweetheart. It's not normal to suddenly feel really tired out of nowhere and like you need to lie down before passing out, I think I might have to take you to see a doctor about that."

"No, you can't just "wait out" the paralysis your hand got from that Dratini's thunder wave. Come on let's go sort that out."

"Yes, you do need to take these iron supplement pills. No, Silv, you weren't fine out on the streets you just weren't used to actual love and care, Kid."

Sometimes it feels like he's giving Lance gray hairs early but he wouldn't have it any other way. <3

#pokemon #pokémon headcanons #dad lance #silver son #rival silver #giovanni #giovanni pokemon #headcanons

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