#their last breaths. they lasted that long because anyone who dares to hurt them has to go through River first and anyone who was wise enough

[expectiations]

I recently got pulled back into a rabbit hole that Rory Williams is a descendant of Caecilius (you know, the guy in Pompeii the Doctor and Donna saved). By saving Caecilius and fam, the Doctor has unwittingly ensured the existence of their wife (which they'll meet in the Library a few episodes later).

Then someone pointed out that supposedly, the Froshbishers in Torchwood was the descendant of Caecilius (since they're played by the same actor – Peter Capaldi himself) and that's why he ends up killing himself and his family to tie up all loose ends that never should have existed.

And I was like no–oh. OH. WAIT. The Froshbishers and the Williams could have both been descendants of Caecilius. We already know of the Froshbishers' tragic end but then there's Rory! Roranicus Pondicus, who seems to suffer from a tragic death every other episode. Penny in the air. What if that's why Rory suffers from frequent deaths? It's the universe trying to tie loose ends up but somehow Rory almost always ends up 'escaping' (for lack of a better word that I can currently come up with) the clutches of death – until of course, Manhattan. Penny drops.

But anyways, I think there's something beautiful in all that yapping I've spewed. Also, that could also explain why – or could be one of the explanations why River's death had to be a fixed point. Other than to prevent the Doctor from rewriting it, it was also the universe's final way of cleaning up the past.

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Secretly Mine

Summary: Spencer and Reader have been seeing each other for a while without the team's knowledge

Category: Fluff

Couple: Spencer/BAU Fem!Reader

Content warnings: None

Word count: 1.5k

Eight months have passed since your arrival at the BAU. You’re an integral part of the team. Hotch has been sure to let you know. You’ve stood out with your eye for detail at certain crime scenes, outshining even some of the team’s more seasoned members. Luckily, the academy’s rumors about the Quantico team’s bond have rang true time and time again, so competition and jealousy never became an issue. It only made them respect you and even open up to you.

One person who has particularly opened up to you is the genius of the group, Spencer Reid. The secret you learned: he’s a gentle kisser. Almost childishly chaste, but nothing seemed more fitting for his personality. What was surprising was the setting of your first kiss.

New York City police invited the team to investigate the terrorist cell killing random people across the city. Their attacks grew more volatile by the time you all arrived, placing bombs on government vehicles. One of these bombs hurt Hotch, and SSA Joyner did not survive the same blast. The results could have been worse, considering.

Your team faced the problem of uncertainty regarding who (if anyone) had been injured at that moment. Spencer was with Rossi at the police station while the rest of you were on the ground. That damn terrorist organization interfered with signals and transmissions all the time, and this was no different. You, by your luck, were the most difficult to get in contact with, despite being safe at Federal Plaza. You met with the team when it was safe to do so and all targeted areas were cleared. Most of you sighed in relief. Garcia even held your face, as if to make sure you were real, alive and, breathing.

Spencer held your face too, but not in the same way. You both took refuge by the water cooler, surprisingly where no one was present in a once-crowded New York City police station. You talked about what happened, Hotch’s current condition, and how long to expect these nerves to last. Your nerves didn’t settle, though, when Spencer’s knuckles brushed your cheek as he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You didn’t blame these nerves, though, when you leaned into the touch, looking up at him with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Spencer was cute, obviously, but workplace relationships are highly unprofessional and even a liability, if the case they just survived wasn’t enough proof of that. You’d think (well, you knew actually) Spencer of all people would know this. He knows everything. When you had a case in Baltimore involving the Ravens, he told you their name came from Edgar Allan Poe’s most famous poem. Then he explained the detailed theories surrounding his untimely death. Spencer believes it has something to do with cooping, whatever that means, you dared not to ask. There’s nothing he doesn’t consider.

So, Spencer must have considered all the odds of professional behavior in that moment by the water cooler since his lips delicately brushed yours. It was barely a kiss at first, until he leaned in for another, to where you could feel the warmth of his mouth and felt that he could do with some lip exfoliant. The last part you didn’t care about because it was practically over before it began. Neither of you said anything about it. Instead, you stayed there for a while, not touching or talking. Then Morgan told the team to pack up and get ready to go home.

Throughout the past month, you and Spencer have shared many kissing sessions. Not at work, though, because you both still have some sense. Kissing Spencer, though, tends to not leave you with much sense. His gentleness is not a front. His touches are tender and he’s never pushed you beyond your limits. It’s a good thing then that he’s a gentleman, so he earned kisses through dinners, movies, and day trips. It was something to look forward to in between grueling cases.

And it wasn’t even off work when Spencer would bring joy to you. There was a case recently in North Carolina that shook you more than you cared to admit. You didn’t want to mention what specifically, as it’s something you haven’t spoken about in a long time, but the team picked up on it quickly. They checked on you and even asked if you needed to sit out. You powered through and came to a satisfactory (for lack of a better word) conclusion. Afterward, Spencer invited you to ice cream. It was a welcoming change of scenery, despite the ice cream place being called Jack the Dipper. It was hilariously fitting, so it really wasn’t an issue. Spencer didn’t ask about what happened or what made you feel so disturbed. Throughout the night, he just made sure to ask if you were okay.

You haven’t been okay for a while. Not because of that case, but because it’s been three months now and you are still running around with Spencer without the team’s knowledge. The team might feel cheated (and Hotch might be pissed) because they are not aware of this information, but the uneasiness of all this was starting to settle in. The fear, the worry that this might just be all for nothing. Outside of the office, he shows that he cares. He knows things about you that you haven't revealed in some time. And apparently he has done the same. Bruises from harsh kisses around your bodies linger under work clothes from a weekend in, and the team has been none the wiser. And you’re not sure if you’re as okay with it as you thought you were.

The team went out to the bar on a Thursday, celebrating a government holiday the night before (i.e. a three-day weekend). The team took shots, bet money, threw darts, and Emily ended up with the most by closing. You would’ve coughed up more cash throughout the night if you were confident in your bets.

Spencer barely looked at you. Didn’t brush your hand or even stand near you for too long, like you had the plague or whatever Poe died from. It didn’t help the feeling in your core, and neither did the walk home. Morgan drove Garcia home, Hotch with Rossi, and J.J. with Emily. And of course, Spencer with you. When J.J. drove away after boasting about avoiding a ticket on an expired meter, Spencer didn’t hesitate to reach for your hand. It was nice, and as the weather grew colder, it was a welcomed warmth. But how could it not feel at least a little sour?

His apartment wasn’t far from here, so you walked. Your hands were laced the entire time, but he didn’t breathe a word and you couldn’t tell if that should make you feel better or worse.

It wasn’t until you climbed the steps to his door that he asked, “Are you staying the night?”

You swallowed. Unlike Emily, Garcia, and Rossi, you were on the side of tipsy rather than in dire need of a toilet to bury your head into. “Sure.” You said. “If you want me to.”

“Yeah,” He said, fiddling with his key and lock. “Of course I want you to.”

He finally opens the door and turns on the living room light. You barely had time to put your purse down before his lips were on yours. They were still chapped like the first time, except you could forgive that because of the growing cold outside. His hands hold your waist, they creep to your back. You couldn’t help but lean in, away from the door he pressed you into. It was when Spencer moaned in your mouth that you broke away. Catching your breath, you try putting together a sentence. But breathing is difficult right now for both of you. Spencer’s eyes are lazy and his breath still lingers with a scent of the mint gum he spit out when he showed up to the bar.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you think it’s the start to an actual apology. “I was trying to stay patient.” He kisses you again, softly. And you kiss him back still. He moans again. “I want you.”

You swallow again. Your throat is so dry. “Spencer, I—”

“I want to tell them.” He interrupts.

You blink, it quickens as you take in the words. “What?”

His hands cup your face. He brushes the messy bangs from your forehead. “I want to tell them. About this. About us. I just…” He trails off. That is not something you’re used to seeing. “I want more time with you.”

As Spencer’s words sank in, you felt a mix of apprehension and longing, wondering just what could go wrong. A lot, in fact. But you have to believe he’s being honest. Why wouldn’t he be?

And with a soft smile, you reached for his hand and met his gaze. “I want that too,” you said, feeling the weight of it finally being lifted off your chest. “I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“I know. And I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about it earlier. I was being selfish.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“But I would. Because it’s true. But that changes now.” The look on his face, the fully sober look on his face. He’s all in. “I will tell them you’re my girlfriend.”

[darkbluekies]

This is going to be interesting fr, like how much differently do your ocs treat the reader if they were childhood friends. I’m super excited! Also can’t wait to see Jerry again ❤️

Warnings: violence, murder, unstable home life, bullying

Silas:

Being Silas's childhood friend guarantees you a bodyguard. He doesn't let anyone get close to you. You don't ever have to worry about the fact that anyone will bully you, because Silas will obliviate them. He's the type to let you lean on his shoulder in class whenever you feel tired. He will ditch school with you and go to the zoo if you want to.

People around you will try to separate the two of you. “Silas isn't a good influence”, they say, and doesn't want his behavioral problems to rub off on you, or for you to get in danger. There are speculations that Silas is involved in criminal gangs — and if someone asks you, you won't deny it. But Silas won't let anyone take you from him, won't let anyone touch you. You always have his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders, always claimed by him.

“I'm going to bash that kid's skull in, I'm not fucking joking. If they dare to to touch you — no — if he as much as breathe near you, I'll send them to the nurses office. Lean your head on me, Y/N, its okay. Does your hand still hurt? I cant believe that he fucking stepped on it. It doesn't matter if it was a mistake. I'll cut his off.”

Dr Kry:

There is something off about him, and everyone can see that. He sits back straight, hands together, and always in clean, ironed clothes. His hair is always brushed and fixed, he hates germs and people. And he hates it all, he really does. The only friend he has, is you. The only one he doesn't think is dirty, is you. You know that the reason he sits and talks like a robot is because of how strict his parents are. There has been multiple times where he has dirtied his clothes while playing with you, and has panicked. You help him clean them before going home, and when touching him you make sure to wipe your hands with a cloth — even if you know that he doesn't mind your germs. You know how he doesn't like to be touched, so you never hug him or linger on too long, which is just why Kry likes you so much.

You are the only one who knows about his author's dreams. His parents want him to become a doctor, or a lawyer, and you know he's interested in medicine, but he wants to be able to write. He wants to write sci-fi stories, and you are the only one that knows it.

You get teased by others for being with the “clean freak” but it doesn't bother you. However, it does bother Kry. After someone has been mean to you, they always end up in the hospital, one way or another. You can't help but wonder if it's your shy, sweet friend who's behind it.

“I like having picnics with you. Oh, you forgot the other fork? No, don't apologize, I understand that it was a mistake. We can share a fork, I'm okay. Yes, it's fine, I don't mind … you're so nice, wiping the fork for me, you don't have to do that ...”

King Edmund:

If you are Edmund’s friend while he's the crown prince, you need a lot of patience. He is spoiled rotten, entitled and unpleasant to be around. Everything is on his terms. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't value you. He is locked in his room day in and day out with a private tutor, completely isolated from everyone else. He will throw fits and threaten not to do his classes, unless he is allowed to play with you. So, they bring you to the castle where you get to live from now on.

Edmund absolutely loves to spend time with you. You ride horses together, torment the staff, play pranks and read. When he can't sleep, he walks into your room and crawls under the sheets.

You're with him when his parents are murdered. Edmund's first instinct when the castle is attacked is to run to your room, wake you up and hide the two of you. He is equipped with a sword and will protect you to the last moments.

Although the two of you are isolated, there are people in the staff making fun of you, or talking bad. Edmund doesn't even hide the fact that he orders for their deaths.

“I fucking hate classes, and I hate that tutor. It's so boring. I wish you could take the classes with me, it'd be so much more fun. After class, can't we do something? Can't we go down to the fountain and read? I want you to read for me. You're the only one that reads the story right, that does them justice. Everyone else sounds like fucking donkeys.”

Jerry:

Jerry goes to an all girls school in South Korea. You don't go to the same school — which is probably for the best. Jerry is the leader of her little gang, and they are notorious for their bullying. She is a bully for fun, but won't allow any of her friends to make fun of you. If they do, she will ruin their lives. You do know about her life outside the school though, you have been with her when she steals from stores (often makeup stores). You often meet her after school and go to the mall or amusement parks together. She's a very sweet person to be around when it's just the two of you.

You're friends with her before she starts to call herself ‘Jerry’ — when she's still ‘Yubin’. She had seen the name in a TV series and liked the character. She says that she is going to move to the US, and then she wanted an english name.

You're often with Jerry's friend group on weekend nights, often strolling around the town with alcohol and cigarettes, sometimes breaking stuff. Jerry makes sure that if they're ever caught, her and you slip away. She finds it all extremely exciting.

Jerry escapes to you when she gets to know that her parents (and perhaps sister if i want to give her one) have been murdered by a rival, when she has involved herself in criminal activities for real. It's the first time you get to see Jerry break down. She's in your arms, crying heavily, admitting how scared she is and how much she misses her parents. She loves her family, and now there is nothing left of it. She says that she died that day, and that whoever is inhabiting her body now is a fraction of who she once was.

“You're such a fresh wind from that fucking girl school. Why do I have to go there? Why am I not allowed to join a coed school? What? Why my nails have blood under them? No, I didn't get into a fight again. I didn't. I promise. Get up, let's go get sushi, I'm starving.”

Hedwig:

If you're a childhood friend of Hedwig, you're basically a family member. You go on her family's expensive vacations, just because Hedwig doesn't want to be alone.

You play every day and go through all stages of life together. Hedwig has always been the sweetest human you've ever known, and it surprises you when you see her angry. The many, many years you've been friends, you've only seen her angry a handful of times. You go to summer camps together, share beds, share everything. Teachers ask for the other when one is gone (which is rare).

Being childhood friends with Hedwig would most likely end in romance at one time, so she would win without having to do anything harsh. But if you started developing crushes other than Hedwig before, she would ruin their reputation until you wouldn't want to look at them anymore, but no one would know that it was Hedwig.

Hedwig has always been very popular, both for her money and looks, and by default, you've been too because you're her best friend. Hedwig likes to see how nice everyone is to you, because they know better than to upset you. No one wants to get out of the magical bubble that is Hedwig’s popularity.

“We will be friends forever, won't we? I don't think I could live without you, Y/N. You're the other half of my soul. If I don't have you nearby, I can't breathe.”

[softxsuki]

Hey, hope you're doing great! Can i ask an urgent request, a jjk x fem reader where the reader is left in a vegetative state after a mission, all them seeing her for the first time in intensive care with multiple tubes going in and out of her while she was fighting for her life in a coma, and like when she wakes up she's clueless the first days, struggling to say what she wants or express any emotions because she's unable to talk (and move also) Hope it's not a burden to you <33

Megumi, Gojo, and Itadori With S/O Who's In A Coma After A Mission

| Pairings: Megumi x Fem!Reader, Gojo x Fem!Reader, Itadori x Fem!Reader | Genre: Hurt Comfort, Angst | Post-Type: Headcanons | Word Count: 1.07k |

Warnings: mentions of death (no one actually dies), past character deaths, despair, crying (in itadori's), reader in a coma

Note: Hello <3 Happy New Year. I actually really enjoyed writing this one. One of my fav jjk posts so far 0.0 hope you and anyone else that reads it also enjoys it! And I hope your situation with your family has improved <3

Megumi:

Megumi is in shock as soon as he finds out you’re in a coma after your recent mission

You had assured him you’d be okay, and in that moment, regret fills him for not pushing to be there with you

He’d already gone through this with Itadori years ago when he thought he was dead after that one mission they were on together, and now here you were clinging on to life, one of the most important people in his life

He was scared he’d never see you awake again, yet he remained calm on the outside, coming to the hospital to visit you everyday

You were in the same hospital as his sister, who was also in a coma, so he was also able to visit her more often while you were there

The two most important women in his life were practically lifeless on hospital beds, it killed him

However, hope filled him one day when he saw your fingers fidget and he immediately ran to get a doctor–you were waking up

Confusion fills you as soon as your eyes open, you can’t quite put together where you were, the last thing you remembered was fighting that powerful curse before everything went dark and now you were in a room surrounded by people in white coats

The doctors had just finished removing your breathing tube since you were finally stable and conscious 

Megumi feels his shoulders lighten as he sees your eyes open, you were alert, which was a good sign

He takes a seat beside you, the chair he’d been glued in since he found out you were in a coma and takes your hand to let you know he was there as the doctors started their examination on you to make sure you were doing well

The next few days are tough on you as you struggle to move or speak due to going so long without doing both of those things while in a coma, but Megumi is by your side the whole time helping you out

He spends his every waking moment by your side, taking care of you until you’re back to your normal self

Gojo:

Like Megumi, Gojo is also worried of course, but that worry doesn’t show on the outside

Yet everyone around him knows something is wrong because he’s unusually quiet and doesn’t joke around anymore, he’s become very serious

He was the strongest in the world, yet couldn’t do one simple job and keep you safe? He was beyond disappointed in himself

There was so much responsibility on his shoulders that the elders threw on him, but they didn’t dare request him during these weeks while you were in a coma

Gojo was unstable and there was no telling what he’d do if anyone pushed him too far, so he spent his time visiting you, and continuing to teach and train his students, the only two things he could find the energy to do, but all solo missions were at a standstill

Even after you awaken, Gojo still isn’t himself, his attention is now fully on your recovery and making sure the doctors are doing their utmost best to make sure you recover fully

The thought that he was so close to losing you just like so many of his other friends and colleagues terrified him, he felt unworthy of his title of the strongest, but moving forward he’s even more protective of you after seeing how easy it was to almost lose you

So after you’re released from the hospital and sent back home, finally able to speak and move around again, Gojo is on high alert

He feels paranoid that something will happen to you again so he pushes back his missions and has the elders give them to other sorcerers in the meantime so he can watch over you

It kills you to see him this way so you’ll have to do your best to persuade him that you’ll be fine and safe, he can’t spend his whole life glued to your side, that’s no way for him to live

So it does take a while to persuade him to continue his work, but he makes sure to keep you heavily guarded while you’re still in recovery

It will take a while before he’s back to his usual self, just give him some time

Itadori:

Itadori is probably the most visibly impacted one after hearing the news that you were in a coma after your latest mission

He’s another one who has lost countless people and felt responsible for not being strong enough to protect them, and now he couldn’t even protect you

He’s distraught, silent tears falling from his eyes as he makes a promise to exorcize the curse that did this to you

If he wasn’t by your side, he was out on the streets eliminating curse after curse, waiting for the moment he’d come across the curse that put your life in danger, he wouldn’t be going easy on it

It kills him to see all those tubes connected to your body, you looked so fragile, like any tiny gust of wind will have your heart monitor flat lining at any given moment, he was terrified 

He experienced too much loss already, if he lost you as well, he’d never recover

So when he receives a call from your doctor, he’s already running to the hospital before he even picks up the phone

You were awake

Tears of relief fall from his eyes when he sees for himself that you are in fact awake–your eyes on him as he enters your hospital room, eyes he thought he’d never see again

He collapses at your side, pulling you into his arms, almost scared that if he let go, he’d never see you again

The weeks of your recovery go smoothly with Itadori by your side though, he listens to everything the doctors say and helps you get back on your feet, literally

Walking became difficult for you, so he became your cane

Even talking hurt your throat, but he’d speak for you until your throat healed up andyou could speak again

He was incredibly attentive and caring during the next few weeks of your recovery and made a vow that nothing like this would ever happen to you again so long as he was alive and by your side

And that was a promise he’d keep forever

Posted: 1/1/2024

[fallingforyouforeverr]

Hey do you think you could do a dating Arthur hill headcannon it’s all good if not hahah x

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥

summary: read request above

authors note: omg anon, i am so sorry that it took me this long, i completely forgot that it was in my drafts oops. i don't really love this as much as the other ones bc it feels quite rushed but i just wanted to finally publish something yk so hopefully you still enjoy!

please consider checking out my masterlist

-> you're each other's biggest supporters. you help him with music and videos, and are backstage at every show screaming along to the lyrics. if you were also a musician, he would do the same for you, and he would somehow find a way to mention how talented you are in basically every conversation it's actually slightly annoying

-> he would always make sure to be equally as supportive of you though, and would celebrate each of your achievements, however minor it seems

-> arthur values your opinion more than anything else, so you are always the first to hear new video ideas or the lyrics of a song he has been working on

-> he's probably written several love songs about you that he plans never to release. he might show you a few, but most of them are private – just someplace to channel all the love he has for you

-> lisa (his mum) loves you. even before you met her, she felt like she knew you because of how much arthur talked about you.

-> his friends definitely tease you two a lot but they genuinely think your relationship is really sweet and they are all just happy that he found someone who was so clearly made for him

-> arthur would never dare admit it to anyone but you, but he is absolutely a simp for you. he would literally do anything you asked of him with no hesitation, even at his own expense

-> 100% a quality time person

-> you feature in his videos a lot. like all the time. he just wants to be around you as much as possible!

-> dates happen practically everyday, often without any sort of plan and you usually just wander the city together until you find somewhere interesting

-> one of arthur's favourite things to do with you is going to small indie concerts of bands you have never heard of before, more so for the vibes than the actual music

-> your camera roll is full of pictures and videos of him drunk, as you usually have to pick him up after he's been drinking. arthur becomes very clingy when drunk so you receiving a call from george at 2am asking you to pick them up while arthur whines in the background asking where you are has become a frequent occurrence

-> he can also be very clingy even when sober, and this is only amplified whenever he is tired, jealous, or just missing you

-> despite you assuring him of your love several times, jealousy isn't unusual for him as he often feels insecure – especially next to his more popular housemates, which can cause him to doubt your relationship. these feelings never last long tho and his bad mood is normally fixed just through a quick reminder of your love

-> when arthur is a clingy mood he will often just scoop you up without warning and carry you to the nearest comfortable surface to cuddle. he will then proceed to literally lay on top of you so you have no way of running away to whatever you were doing before, not that you mind of course

-> there's never a dull moment when you are with arthur. all of your time together is spent laughing until your cheeks hurt and you can't breathe or just basking in eachothers presence

[binniesbooks]

hi fayebae, imma send these before i go for my hiatus again(im not sure if you alr have smth planned for tyun n hyuka! cos i know u have a yj fic thats coming soon, so ill send these in for them)

was thinking of tyun x reader for this

uk the series “academy reincarnation”!! There was a salsa dance ep! I was thinking that reader decided to sign up to the salsa academy where tyun is one of the instructors?/student! reader wanted to learn salsa for the longest time but has always been afraid to as one would usually need to dance in pairs. afraid of having any physical contact with any stranger(due to a trauma she formed from a relationship), even tho it was difficult, reader eventually let down her walls with tyun as the many practice sessions go by, she finds herself now looking forward to salsa practices as thats the only time she can see tyun! And she craves his touch. During one of the practices, they got so lost in the dance that their faces ended up really close to each other! Tension arises(she wants him, he wants her, dare i say more 🤭smut of course!) [didnt wanna write too much to allow ur creative freedom!!]

i hope this is good gah(just thought i should send smth in for the other members too hehe, pls dont put aside ur wip again!! Do this after ure done w ur yj one gah) love u my soobie fav boobie💗

TENDER TOUCH

TH 002 .F22 2024

wc 5.3k

pairings gentle!Taehyun x abused!reader

warnings physical and sexual abuse, traumatic experience, traumatized reader, protected sex, abusive ex-boyfriend (idk what else did I miss)

faye's note *insert: Taehyun's 어디 있지 (where am I) in boba😳* as promised, here's my second fic for the day! this is my first Taehyun fic and I'm fucking obsessed that it got up to 5.3k words, wth. Anyways, @inkigayocamman I know you requested a Tae fic, but here's another one for u to enjoy I guess while I'm still working on it. 🙂‍↕️ I hope you like this too! And ofc, to my one and only Beomgyu's kitten, I love your brain, it's so sexy omfg. I'm totally sat. Plus yeah, the yj fic is still on the line. 🤣 Anyway, I did a few research(again) for this fic, so I hope it turned out good, fingers crossed!

Edit: Thanks for proofreading the whole ass fic @babymochibeargyu I'm dead now. 😭😂 luv uuuu 😖💓

"Learn how to dance Salsa, we offer multiple dance forms for beginners to professionals. Come join us..." You mumbled reading the flyer your friend handed you.

"Jia, you know I can't do anything like this anymore." You sighed as you handed her back the flyer.

"I know, I know, it's because of your trauma, right? But maybe this is the way that can only help you overcome that trauma," She started, "I'm worried about you taking this class but I'm more worried about you carrying that trauma all throughout your life." Jia gently holds your hand, still careful not to scare you with the skin contact.

You're lost in your thought for a while thinking if you can really let go of your trauma after all this time. It's been so long since you haven't engaged in any relationship after your last one.

"I-I'll think about it." You sighed, you really wanted to be free but you just didn't know how to start. "Please do, I really wanted to help you." Jia's eyes are full of worry, sadness and guilt. Because it's been so long yet she can't do anything to help.

You've always been wanting to learn how to dance Salsa. It's like your little dream ever since, however, your boyfriend from your last relationship did not even want you to be touched nor be grazed by any man's skin. You insisted you could just pair with a girl but he threatened you to hurt anyone who will be around you if you kept on insisting to register for the dance class. You ended up not registering for the class and burying your little dance dream into the depths of your heart.

The following week, you found yourself standing in front of the dance academy building. Breathing slowly, thinking deeply whether you really want to do it or not. You were clutching on the flyer tightly. Your knees fell weak as you stumbled down, retreating all the way to the confinement of your apartment to hide from the world.

It took so much courage for you to do this. Especially when you ended up trying once again a week later. You're standing in the front of the building, staring at the swaying banner of the academy with a "SALSA DANCE ACADEMY" written on it.

You softly knocked on the door before opening it. "Hi! Come in! How may I help you?" You were greeted with s young lady, clad in a salsa dance costume. She looks bright and bubbly.

"I.. Uhm.. wanted to register for the class." You meekly answered as you slid down on the chair. "May I know your name?" The lady picked up the pen on the table and grabbed a file.

"Y/n...y/n s/n." You silently answered.

"What class would you like to be included in?" The lady's smile never faltered. Her bright aura makes you feel comfortable for a bit. "What do you offer?" You asked back.

"Well, we have group sessions and we also have one-on-one lessons," you nodded at her, signaling her to keep going. "In group sessions, there will be 15 pairs -- 30 individuals in a class, plus the 2 dance instructors," you felt pressured with just the thought of being included in the group. "In the one-on-one class, we will find you a pair if you still have none, or you can bring one, and then also a pair of instructors," she explained.

"I'll take the latter."

"Please sign here and we'll wait for another one to sign up." She smiled again at you. You were thinking of bringing your friend to the class.

"By any chance, can I bring a girl for the one-on-one class?" Her expression suddenly turned sad, "I'm afraid we are only taking a man and a woman as a pair for the one-on-one class. Usually, the pairs who sign up for the one-on-one class end up acquiring advanced skills than those who are in the group."

You thought of backing out once again but you shook your head to clear your mind. You're already here, you're already a step closer to the most awaited time of your life: to let go of your trauma.

"We'll call you once we receive another sign-up for a one-on-one class. Thank you for dropping by." The lady waved her hand as you stepped outside.

You shrunk to the corner of the door, people are looking at you but you're too occupied to even give a damn.

It's been a week. You didn't know how to explain how you felt. Half of you felt happy that you hadn't received a call yet, because that would only means you didn't have to do it anymore and there wouldn't be anymore skin contact for you to trigger your trauma. However, the other half of you felt disappointed. You would have been lying if you said that you didn't get your hopes up, thinking that this would be the way to be finally free from your trauma.

"Still haven't received a call?" Your friend placed the pizza she brought on your coffee table. Today was the day she would usually pay you a visit to your apartment. She started doing this from 2 years ago, when you and your ex-boyfriend finally broke up.

You hummed in response as you dug out the box of pizza. Nevertheless, you don't want to bring your thoughts about the dance academy again.

A couple of minutes passed when your phone rang, causing both your heads to look towards your phone

"Hello?"

"Hi! Can I talk to Ms. Y/n s/n?" The voice over the line spoke brightly.

"Y/n speaking." You just answered back, looking at your friend who's anticipating a piece of good news.

"We just want to inform you that someone already signed up for the one-on-one class as your pair. The class will start this Monday, are you fine with it?" Your friend sighed in relief as soon as she heard it.

"O-okay. Sure." You felt a rush of anxiety travel throughout your body, as your fingers trembled hanging up the call.

"Hey, it's okay." Your friend wrapped the thick blanket around your shoulders before hugging you. Afraid that she might trigger your trauma. "You'll be fine." She tries to calm you down by rubbing your back.

2 days passed by quickly. Enough to make you coil up in bed instead of getting up. Your phone vibrates from an incoming message.

Dearest Jia: Take care later, okay? I know you can do it. I won't be able to go because of work, so I hope you understand:< but I'll pick you up when you're done! <3

You: I don't feel like going.

Dearest Jia: Noooo! You've come this far. You should go, I know you can do this!

You: Fine, I'll text you when I'm done with the class.

You tossed your phone on the bed as you grunt into your pillow. You're just glad your dance class starts at 3 in the afternoon. You still had a lot of time to prepare your body and mind.

Quarter to 3, you're already in front of the building, a few people going in at the same time. Probably for the group session. You wanted to go home but the lady called you out.

"Y/n! Please come in. I'll accompany you to the assigned room. I'm Daeun, btw." She extended her hand to you but you froze. You're too afraid. But someone else caught Daeun's hand. "I'm Taehyun, the one who signed up for the pair." A tall guy appeared on your side, shaking her hand. "I-i'm y/n." You meekly introduced yourself without touching any of them. The lady looked confused at first but she shrugged it off.

"Okay, I'll leave you two here, Mr. and Mrs. Hwang are inside already."

Taehyun pushed the door open, you were both greeted with a polished wooden floor and mirror walls in the wide room. Two people were sitting in the corner. They must be your instructors.

"Please come in!" The lady waved at the both of you.

"Do you know each other?" The man asked which the both of you only answered by shaking your head.

"I think we should start our class with an introduction. Don't you think?" The lady nodded.

"I'm Mr. Hwang and this is Mrs. Hwang. She's my wife and we mainly teach one-on-one classes. You are?" They turn their gaze to Taehyun.

"My name is Kang Taehyun. I also dance but not in this genre. So I wanted to learn this." They then looked at you.

"I... I am y/n. I signed up for the class t-to overcome my t-rauma." Your words are slurred, and your reason made your instructors gasp. "I-I used to be in a r-relationship. And t-they're the reason why I can't e-even touch people or let other p- people t-touch me." You bit your lip as you look up at them.

"Honey, but I'm afraid this dance requires a lot of holding and touching, what should we do?" Mrs. Hwang clasped both of her hands on her mouth as she turned a bit emotional.

"By any chance, can you hold someone when there's a barrier between them? Like, there is no direct skin-to-skin contact?" Taehyun spoke up, you nodded lightly at him. "It's been two years so I think I can tolerate it to an extent."

"Then I think we're good Mrs. Hwang. I'm thinking of using a glove or something. If that's what makes her comfortable. I don't mind at all." Taehyun remarked.

Taehyun ended up wearing gloves for your dance class. And as much as possible, he's avoiding any of your exposed body parts. He's also lightly touching you that you feel as though it's just air grazing your body.

So far so good, the 3-hour class ended up okay. Jia picked you up 30 minutes later after you texted her that you were done.

Your dance class went well the next day. And the day after that. And the following days after that. Days became weeks, weeks became months. It's all going well, with Taehyun's careful assistance over you.

Today was the day you decided to step further to your goal.

"Taehyun, I think we can now stop using the gloves. We've been dancing for a month now and I hate it whenever I think about the gloves. It feels like I'm being disgusted by you or something." You stated to Taehyun once the two of you were on a quick break. Within one month, you grew closer to Taehyun. The quick breaks were your time to tell stories to each other.

"Are you sure? You're not making me feel like any of that, by the way. But are you sure you can do it now?" His eyes seek yours. You simply nodded as you removed your jacket leaving you with your t-shirt on.

"Are you two, okay? Shall we continue?" Your dance instructor asked, checking on you, as you and Taehyun stood up. Taehyun discarded the gloves he was using on top of his bag as he folded his long-sleeved t-shirt up to his elbow.

You started off well. Taehyun holding your hand as gently as he could as usual. Letting you turn around with some quick footwork. It was all good actually, until he needed to lean in, holding your waist and your thigh. One more turn, his arms and fingers graze through your arms. His delicate fingers holding your waist once again. A quick turnaround. A step faster. A more closer proximity.

"You fucker! Come back here! I know what you did!"

"S-stop! We're already over Han!" You squealed as you blocked the door with your body.

"You're fucking dead meat when this door opens!"

Your tears wouldn't stop flowing from your cheeks as you kept your body pressed on the banging door. Han has been your boyfriend for 9 months now. At first, he was so good to you, treating you like the princess you deserved to be. But it was too good to be true that you started to feel it was wrong. Just 2 months ago he started hurting you physically and abusing you sexually. He was too obsessed with you too that he sometimes he would start locking you up in your apartment. Even your requests got declined. At first, you let it pass as you thought it was normal. But you started earning bruises and wounds. You barely ate, barely drank, you even barely slept. You would often get fevers too. The slightest noise would make your soul jump out and the slightest movement would make you flinch.

Jia, your friend, was the one who advised you to report him. So you did, that was why he was here banging at your door.

Han's voice can no longer be heard, hence you decided to quickly hide in your closet, as you dug out your spare phone you had hidden to contact your friend.

You quickly called Jia, telling her to call the police or something but you were cut off when the door bursts open. Han was holding a gun and laughing hysterically.

"Fuck you, you bitch! You're really dead!" You quickly covered your mouth.

"Come out, kitten. Come out from wherever the fuck you're hiding!" His voice echoed through the room drowning your quiet sobs.

That's when he forcefully opened the closet you're hiding. "Ohhh, you look so scared kitten, why?" He cooed at you as his lips stretched to form a mocking grin. "Move to the bed!" You shook your head. "Fucking move to the bed!" He fired a warning shot at the mirror, crashing it. You yelped at the noise. With your trembling body, you quickly scrambled your way to the bed covering your bruised-up body.

"Strip." He commanded as he pointed the gun at you. With no choice left, and your life at stake, you did what he ordered.

He crashed his lips on yours harshly. When he noticed you didn't kiss him back, he slapped you. Blood flowed through your lips as you choked on your sobs. With the gun still pointed at your head, he started harassing you again. His hand left a bruised mark on your neck as he tightly squeezes it. You could almost see the white light as your weak body just let him do anything. There was no use thrashing around as if you had accepted your dying fate.

"Freeze!" Was the only thing you heard before everything around you went black.

You opened your eyes inside the hospital, pulled every apparatus attached to your body and started screaming. It made Jia scream out and call for a doctor. They couldn't calm you down so they needed to give you a shot for temporary sleep.

Everything came swirling back to you. Pushing Taehyun away, causing your body to crash on the wooden floor. "Shit!" Taehyun cursed under his breath as he hurriedly pushed back his sleeves and wore the gloves again, picking up your jacket at the same time, before coming back to you. Your instructors let out a shock gasp as they also rushed over to you.

"Please grab a blanket or any thick clothing!" Taehyun shouts as he tries to ease you by covering your shoulder with your jacket.

Mr. Hwang passed Taehyun his padded jacket he always brought with him. Taehyun carefully wrapped the thick jacket around your body. He holds your face as he tries to soothe you.

"Y/n, look at me, please look at me." Sweat started to form on his forehead as tears freely flowed down your cheeks. "Please, look at me, and breathe slowly. Breathe slowly. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale." Taehyun guided your breathing as his glove-cladded hands rubbed your cheeks.

Mrs. Hwang was panicking but Mr. Hwang tried to calm her down before he went out to grab a glass of water.

Your heartbeat slowed down for at least a bit. Taehyun guiding you helped somehow as you slowly calmed down. Taehyun got the water from Mr. Hwang and held it in front of you as he let you sip on the water slowly.

"Are you feeling okay now?" Taehyun tucked your sweaty hair behind your ears. His eyes were full of worry. "Do you wanna go home and rest?" He's still carefully rubbing your shoulder. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have removed the gloves. That was too risky." Taehyun mumbled as he hesitated to hold your hand.

That same afternoon, he called your friend over. He introduced himself and explained the situation. He let your friend take you home as he bid you two goodbye. You're lucky it was Friday at that time so you don't have to worry about waking up the next morning to go to your dance class. For the next two days, you spent it caving in your room. It helped you calm down.

Monday. You opened the door. You laughed at the scene in front of your eyes.

"What's that?" You chuckled as you placed your bag on the corner. Taehyun looks at himself in the mirror. He's totally covered. He's wearing a thicker glove and a padded jacket. His usual dress pants are now sweats. He's even wearing a mask. He scratched the back of his head.

"Pft. That's too much. Don't worry I'm fine now. Thank you by the way." You smiled at him.

"Are you sure? Because that scared me. I don't know what to do." He removed his jacket along with the face mask and the thick gloves.

"Mhm, I'm sure." You assured him.

"Okay then. We'll try again. Slowly this time." His eyes are full of concern as he looks at you. You smiled at him as you accepted his hand.

For another month, Taehyun tried to connect with you. Stopping whenever needed. Wearing the things he needs to wear whenever he can sense your anxiety rising. For once, you realize how he gently holds you. How he's always careful with you, treating you like a fragile glass that would easily break if you weren't handled correctly. One month passed without much problem. If anything, you're actually growing accustomed to it.

For some reason, you learned to feel comfortable with Taehyun's touch. The graze of his skin, his fingers, and his touch never terrified you anymore, and his existence no longer made you panic.

Now, he's solely the reason why you're still attending your dance class. You're slowly putting your trust in him. You're slowly putting your walls down. He can now hold your hand without fear. He can now dance without thinking that you would startled. He slowly introduced you to the steps that requires your body to be closer. Teaching you how the steps are supposed to be done. You're no longer panicking. Even when your face is just only few inches from him, you were actually smiling at each other. You no longer feared his touch. If anything, he's only leaving you all tingly with his warm skin.

You could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Whenever you leaned on his chest, it made your heart flutter. His breath on your shoulder, your neck, any part of your body makes the knot in your stomach twist tighter.

You're slowly craving for his touch. For how he cares for you, for how he tends to you. Whenever you're home, he keeps popping into your head. How his sharky smile appears whenever he's happy. The small noises he made. His cat-like attitude. He's the perfect example of hot, sexy and cute.

Every last week of the month, you would have all the time to yourselves to gather all your skills acquired. Because every once a month, you had to show what you have learnt in class. This now left the two of you alone in the dance studio. Perfecting every step and move you needed to show on evaluation day.

Taehyun's lingering touches left you all tingly. His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. His breath alone makes your mind go in a twist.

"One step back, two steps to the front... One turn and... Lean you down." He's matching his words on every beat of the step. You thought it only happens in a fantasy world. But it was like the world stopped when his eyes were fixed on yours. His steady breath makes you hold yours. His eyes traveled down to your lips as he gulped. He mumbles a soft "You're pretty," before pulling you back to stand on both your feet.

His hands are both on your face as he slowly backs you to the mirror. His breath is unsteady and warm. The moment he got you pressed on the mirror, he leaned his forehead on yours as he closed his eyes.

"You're really pretty. So pretty I'm afraid I can't control myself." He whispered. Your hands were on his chest, you felt how his heart was thumping so hard.

"S-should we head out early?" You whispered, your hot puffs of breath touching his lips got him reeling as he cursed under his breath.

He quickly pulls away, holds your hand and grabs both of your bags. Both heading outside to his car. "Tell your friend I'm taking you home instead." The air in the car throughout the drive was so thick. His hands were gripping on the wheels, tapping impatiently when the road slowed down.

"Calm down, Tae, I'm not going anywhere." You chuckled as you placed your hand above his when it was resting on the gear shift. He throws a quick glance at you. He bit his lip as a flush crept up on his cheeks.

The drive was short, but Taehyun's action made it look like it was not. He hurriedly got out of his car, running over to your side to open the door for you as he held your hand. His jittery steps were heavy as you both made your way to his humble home.

"Come in." He nervously spoke as he placed his shoe on the rack, switching the light on in the process.

"D-do you want a drink or something?" He was almost running towards the kitchen.

You flop on his couch, making yourself comfortable at some point. "Come here, instead," you chuckled, "You're so anxious for no reason, Taehyun." He sat down beside you, wiping his sweaty palms on his dress pants as he sighed. You scoot over, holding his face, lips just a few inches apart.

"Wait," he pushed you a bit, "a-are you sure about this?" You nodded and smiled at him. "G-give me a minute." He rummaged through his back pocket pulling a handkerchief. You looked at him confused.

He unfolded the handkerchief and gently placed the thin fabric on your lips before crashing his lips on yours. He holds your nape as he climbs up on the couch. He slowly laid you down. Lips unmoving, yet it feels so hot. His lips were just merely pressed on yours with the fabric separating both of your soft skin.

He pulled away, kissing your forehead. "I'm sorry." He whispered as if he was the one who did you wrong. You gently pull the handkerchief away as you tangle your fingers in his hair. Taehyun never failed to take care of you in the most gentle way possible. He's not thinking of his pleasure at this point. He's thinking about you. To the point that he even thought of putting a piece of cloth between your lips just to be able to kiss you.

You wanted to cry at how he's taking care of you. Your eyes welled up with tears as you pulled him back. "I'm good now Tae, thank you for taking care of me. There's no need for the hanky." You whispered before your tears rolled down your cheeks as you kissed him, bare.

He's a gentleman. He's too good to be true. But you let your walls fall down and let him enter. You let him protect you instead. But his hungry kiss spoke thousands of emotions. His kisses travel down to your neck.

"Taehyun..." You whimpered as you gripped his hair.

"A bit more... Just a bit more..." He started sucking and biting your neck and shoulder, leaving splotchy red marks. He pulls away for a while, enough time to tug your shirt off your body.

His fingers slowly traced every scar you have on your body. The marks on your chest from the bottle Han once threw at you. The cigarette burns on your stomach. He also pulled down your skirts only to see stitches from your thighs. You got this when Han pushed you down the stairs. His finger draws back to your lips. The scar from the cut when he slapped you is still visible.

You covered your face out of embarrassment. You no longer look pretty with your all bruised-up body. "We can't do this here." Taehyun got up and carried you all the way to his bedroom. He laid you carefully as ever in his bedroom.

The bed dips down at his weight as he kneels between your legs. His head dips down to kiss every scar you have on your delicate body as if he's kissing your trauma away. He took his precious time. Not wanting to scare or startle you at any point. His actions are being done with all tenderness.

"Do you still want me to continue?" He asks when he hovers above your body, his elbows on both sides of your head. "I want you Taehyun, please do..." You whined biting your lip. "How can I say no when you say it like that, sweetheart." He sighed leaning his forehead on yours again. Your arms crawled under his shirt, feeling his toned body hiding beneath the soft cotton shirt he was wearing. "C-can you take it off? I feel so exposed." You mumbled as you tugged his shirt. "Ah, shit, I'm sorry." He quickly backed up to discard his shirt on the floor.

You stared at him when he was all fours above you. His body is totally toned. You can clearly see the firm muscles on his arms. His buff chest and his perfectly defined abs. "Touch me. I won't stop you. Touch me so you won't feel embarrassed anymore. Touch me so you won't feel as if I'm taking advantage of you. Touch me so you won't feel scared." He grabbed one of your hands and placed it on his chest, slowly dragging it down to his abs.

When he lets go of your hands, you continue to drag them down to the waistband of his dress pants. "C-continue..." His eyes were shut close, his lips trapped between his teeth. You can clearly see his abs tightening as he clenches with the graze of your finger on his waist. He gulps when you hook your finger inside. You unhooked the clip that's binding his pants and pulled the zipper down. His breathing hitched at the lingering touches you're leaving on his lower body.

You gently stroked him as you looked for his eyes. His lips were swollen at how he was biting it. "You won't let it out?" You tried taunting him. "Fuck..." He lets go of his long-held breath, hissing through his teeth. "Y-you're making me crazy, sweetheart... You're totally making me crazy..." He huffed as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Condom?" You asked. He reached into the small drawer just beside your head, pulling out a packet of condoms. "D'you wanna p-put it in f'me?" His words were short, and he was catching his breath. You gently rubbed the head of his cock as you rip the packet with your teeth.

"S-sweetheart, you're... Shit... You're k-killing me." He shuddered when you pressed at his slit, his jaw clenched tightly, his hand grasping the sheets.

You slowly drag your fingers on his cock as you wrapped it with the condom. "T-take your time... I w-won't do anything to hurt you or...ahh... or m-make you s-scared of me." He's struggling to hold back but he's doing his best. As soon as you were done, you tangled your fingers on his again, pulling him for a kiss. A kiss full of care. Gentle. Delicate. Sweet.

He pulls away, caressing your face once more. He pulls your underwear in one swift motion as he lines himself up on you, slowly pushing in. He continuously soothes you by rubbing his thumb on your cheek. "Don't be scared, hm? I'm here. It's just me..." He keeps on mumbling, repeating the same phrase as you nod back at him.

Once he has bottomed out inside you, he stays still as he continues to plant soft kisses on your face. You were tearing up not because of the trauma anymore, but because of the love and care he's showing you.

He unhooked your bra as he gently groped your breast, his fingers flicked on your nipple as he suck on the other. "Mmm..." You whimpered underneath his big body squirming at how his tongue danced on your nipple. He didn't take long, afraid that he might hurt or trigger your trauma.

"C-can I move now? I might end up c-cumming now. You've been clenching f-for some time..." He muttered under his breath. You nodded and covered your face again.

He pulled both of your hands and intertwined your fingers with him above your head. "Please don't cover your face. You're beautiful. You're still pretty even with your scars. You're still gorgeous even with your fear and trauma. Please... Just let me take care of you. I know it'll be hard for you, but I promise. I promise to hold you dearly and cherish you." His eyes were looking for answers.

"Taehyun... Please... Please take care of me from now on. Please hold me when I feel scared... Make me feel loved..." Your silent weeps were drowned as he kissed your nose. "I'll be your peace, sweetheart." He wiped your tears as he slowly thrusts in you.

"I... I promise to hold you as gently as I can... But... I think I might end up g-going hard right n-now." He buried his face in the crook of your neck.

Your arms reached over his back as your nails dug and dragged over his bare back. "T-Taehyun..." You moaned out his name as you writhed in pleasure beneath him. The slow thrust becomes a little bit more sloppy. The skin slapping echoed through the solitude of his room.

"Fuck. Please forgive me if e-end up going t-too hard. But I promise to d-do my best to hold b-back." He grunted as his thrust went harder. You shook your head wanting him to go harder.

"I-i can't hurt you... I w-won't..." He steadies the way he thrusts inside you making the knot on your stomach tighten as you feel your high just around the corner.

You held him as if your life depended on him, "Taehyun... I'm close." "D-do it, sweetheart. I'm g-gonna cum any m-minute." He pressed his lips on you to drown your moans as you both came. He rubbed your waist as he soothed you before pulling out. Tying the condom and disposing it in the bin, zipping up his pants at the same time.

He bends down to kiss your forehead as he grabs a pack of wet wipes cleaning you up. He picked up his shirt and made you wear it. He finally laid beside you as he pulled you on his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" He checks on you, to which you replied by shaking your head and a smile. "Sorry for going too hard, I did my best to hold back," he mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. "I'm okay Taehyun. Thank you so much." Your eyes finally close as his warmth embraces you. He hums while still hugging you close to him.

"Please rest now, sweetheart. When you wake up, you no longer have to suffer anymore. You're safe with me. You're finally safe with me."

@binniesbooks 2024

[rin-solo]

I love. LOVE. Get In the Water

It's one of the objectively best songs in the musical; I will die on this hill.

Poseidon was always, despite being pretty much the main antagonist of EPIC, a really underdeveloped character in my opinion. He just needed a little more nuance and the fact that one (+ kind of one more) song managed to add so much to his characterization pretty much exclusively through subtext and implications is incredibly impressive writing. Because it did!

At the start he's yet again playing games with Odysseus, the way he did in Ruthlessness. In both songs he could kill him easily at any point, yet he chooses not to for the sake of playing games. In Ruthlessness, this becomes his own hubris as it leads to Odysseus escaping.

If you listen closely, at the start of GITW he already sounds slightly different. He's still trying to keep up this "God of Ruthlessness" front that he's so proud of, but he's no longer more or less carefree the way he was in Ruthlessness. He's been obsessing over this feud for ten years, and even if he would never admit it, it's actually clear just from his voice that he really is tired of it too. Not in the sense of it emotionally draining him the way it probably does Odysseus, but in the sense that it's a bother, a loose end in his life, a book that he finally wants to slam shut.

But he still has a reputation to uphold, and he still cannot close this book until Odysseus is dead, so he keeps up the game. Instead of just killing him, he's taunting him to kill himself. He might associate the idea of just striking him down with a sort of loss, like then he'd have to his hands dirty. Then he's rambling about killing his people, his family. He's provoking Odysseus on purpose, likely trying to get him to snap back, to hate him and fear him the way that Poseidon would think any mortal who has consumed this much of his time should. In his eyes, Odysseus deserves nothing less than to curse him with his last breath as his "darkest moment", the god who became the bane of his life.

And Odysseus replies, of all things, with ... sympathy.

Honestly, I don't blame Poseidon for being speechless for three full seconds. He literally just threatened to gauge Telemachus' eyes out the way Odysseus did with Polyphemus, and this absolute madlad of a man replies with an acknowledgement that he (might have) caused Poseidon pain too.

Now, I don't really think Poseidon was particularly hurt over Polyphemus' loss or hurting in any way in that moment. But just the fact that Odysseus acknowledges that he might be hurting too is probably something Poseidon hasn't heard in ... who knows how long? His family is the Olympians. I don't think I have to say more.

It's actually more of a genuine apology than Odysseus' explanation in Ruthlessness ... Now he doesn't say "sorry" because he's still not sorry for hurting Polyphemus, since he still needed to do that in order to escape. But he expresses regret over the pain he caused in a more genuine way than ever.

I am convinced that Poseidon is utterly unfamiliar with sympathy or mercy. He's lived by his "Ruthlessness is mercy" motto for centuries, and he doesn't know anything else. No one would try to teach him something different. The other gods all live by this logic, even if he's the most vocal about it considering he seems to have made it his whole personality. Mortals wouldn't dare to question Poseidon in the first place. And barely anyone would be willing to treat someone with kindness who is in turn treating everyone around them with ruthlessness.

It's very likely that Poseidon hasn't encountered anyone like this until Odysseus. Ruthlessness is simply how he treats people, and also how he expects to be treated back. The fact that Odysseus doesn't, the fact that instead of hating or fearing or cursing him he acknowledges that they have both hurt each other and that it doesn't lead anywhere to still pursue vengeance must have triggered Poseidon in an unprecedented way.

To him, this was probably the most outrageous thing Odysseus could have said in that moment. And it throws him off so much that he is genuinely speechless, and then simply replies, "I can't." ... his most genuine-sounding line in the whole musical.

I cannot stress enough how much it threw me off to hear this line; in the best way imaginable, it doesn't sound like Poseidon. It sounds almost vulnerable. Almost human. Because he is genuinely at a loss so much that he forgets to put up his "wrathful god" facade for just one second. Standing ovation to Steven Rodriguez for his whole performance, but especially this part.

And then Odysseus goes all out, to say something even more outrageous: "Maybe you could learn to forgive?"

... Which is when Poseidon snaps.

Kind of understandable, honestly. There's this mortal whom he has likely fantasized about seeing pleading, hate-filled, and terrified, cowering before him, for ten years now ... telling him that he ought to learn something. Even hijacking his own motif and his instrument in order to turn it on its head, "defile" it if you will.

This f*cking mortal pr*ck took his own "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" catchphrase and turned it into forgiveness ... Of course, Poseidon is no longer hesitating, of course he is no longer concerned with getting his hands dirty or not. He yells "DIE!" and unleashes his ultimate move (which is really overkill for simply killing a mortal if you think about it) ... But he does it anyway because this time he genuinely means it.

This simple exchange (my favorite moment in the whole musical, actually) tells us so much about both of these characters that it makes me want to skitter and squeal in excitement.

Here is Odysseus—the very same one whom Poseidon specifically tried to teach ruthlessness—becoming the first person in a long time to offer him sympathy despite how Poseidon himself showed him nothing but ruthlessness. And then one song later, here is Odysseus showing him the consequences of not accepting said sympathy.

Six Hundred Strike and what Odysseus does to Poseidon would've not hit the same, in my opinion, if he hadn't made this offer, if he hadn't given Poseidon this way out, even if no one watching genuinely expected it to work (probably not even Odysseus himself.)

Six Hundred Strike is not Odysseus exacting vengeance. If GITW proved anything about Odysseus it's that he does not want vengeance. He wants all of the hatred and pain to be over, to the point where he is willing to let go of, and I am inclined to say forgive, Poseidon for what he's done to him. Six Hundred Strike is simply Odysseus teaching him this lesson that Poseidon couldn't have learned in any other way, because he has proven in GITW that he genuinely does not speak any language besides that of ruthlessness.

It's just the perfect representation of how Odysseus has now finally learned the balance between mercy and ruthlessness, which seems to be the core theme of the musical: Both have their time and place, one simply has to be willing to act in both ways and know when to use either. No one extreme is the solution. I am genuinely exhilarated that Odysseus finally seemed to have figured out that it's been both all along.

[lostinforestbound]

Could I request headcanons for how would Cal, and Zevlor feel about being with human gender neutral s/o/Tav?

They're definitely more secure than Rolan I would think, but let's explore it more!

Cal and Zevlor with a Human Partner

Cal

Cal is cheeky and kind, but he isn't stupid. He knows more than anyone that there's a prejudice against tieflings as a refugee from Elturel. But as long as his partner is happy with him, he doesn't care.

At first, he's worried about it when it comes to dating anyone, but he tries to not think on it too hard. There's too many things to worry about right now.

He's a little frightened, when he falls in love with his partner for the first time, especially since they are human. He knows people will talk, but at that point, he doesn't care. He wants them very badly, so he will make it work.

As long as his partner doesn't have a problem, he doesn't have one either. Spending so much energy on focusing what other people think can be exhausting.

He'd rather use all that energy towards his partner. To take them out on dates, make love, explore the city, and spend time with their or his family.

Cal is still careful with his nails though. He knows they're pretty sharp, and he never wants to hurt his partner, so once in a while he'll blunt them down.

He also tries to get his tail under control, as most days it has a mind of it's own. He can't help it! He always wants to wrap it around his partner to keep them close to him.

Of course he never does this in public, it's seen as extremely intimate and he doesn't want to cause problems for his partner, even if they're comfortable with it.

Sometimes the prejudice gets to him, but with his partner's unrelenting love and reassurance the feeling never lasts long at all. They're all that matters anyways.

Zevlor

While Zevlor is not outwardly insecure about having a human partner, he definitely has his concerns, but not just because he is a tiefling.

Not only is he an older man, but he things there are other, better options outside of himself. Why would they choose him, an oathbreaker who failed his own people?

He's been broken down over his many failures, and he fully believes his partner deserves someone better. Not to mention the prejudice that'll come with dating him, especially since his infernal ridges are visible on his face.

He's shocked to see that his partner just doesn't care about all that. How could they not care? Do they not see the way people stare at them strangely when he just wants to hold their hand?

It takes him a little while, but slowly and surely, he starts to not care either. While it's still in the back of his mind, he doesn't let it affect his relationship.

He doesn't become a fool though, prejudice is everywhere, and he can never escape it, but now he has a healthier handle on it. His relationship is what matters anyways.

He doesn't use his tail often in public, so he's not worried about it too much, but one time he accidentally cuts his partner with his nail and feels horrible about it.

It's not long after that he starts clipping them. They get in the way anyways, especially when doing casual, every day tasks. While he still has a fighting spirit, he's tired now. No need to hold a sword as often anymore.

He never though he could fall deeper in love with his partner until they defend him from an asshole who dared to breathe "foulblood" his way. It was an incredible sight.

Later that night he treats them to dinner with plenty of kisses to show he appreciates it. He still advises that he could handle himself but loves it either way.

[ereana]

Neuvillette X Furina - Sure you can use me as a pillow

Furina can’t breathe.

Everyone is staring at her.

The president of the Spina di Rosula watches her carefully, the triumphant expression fading with every step she takes towards the basin. Navia, she remembers with sudden clarity; the woman is called Navia and she is from Poisson.

Of course.

The click of her heels echoes loudly in the Opera Epicles even amidst the loud rumbling of the spectators.

“Is she really going to do it?”

“Well she has to, doesn't she?

“You actually think she isn’t a god?”

“I mean, it doesn’t look good for her does it?

No. No. No.

She can’t let so many centuries of work go to waste. Not when so much is at stake. Not when ‘mirror-me’ is still working on a way to save everyone. It would be too cruel for it to end this way. 

The show must go on.

She looks down into the water, the vibrant purple tinge would be almost pretty if it didn’t promise her death. She wonders if dissolving will be more or less painful than the performance she’s poured her entire existence into. She doubts it will be more, there’s so little of her left after wearing a mask for so long that comparatively it has to be less.

From above she hears him.

“Due to the inherent risk of the test, Lady Furina, you may—”

She plunges her hand into the water, unwilling to hear him say anything else. Hurt and anger and an affection she tries so hard to keep hidden war for dominance in her chest. She can hear the worry in his voice even if no-one else can. How does he dare when he is the one who put her here?

Because he cares. A voice, small and fading, whispers in her mind. Because despite your lies he still cares and doesn’t want you to be harmed.

Her hand starts to burn. Her eyes snap down to the basin, watching in horror as her arm starts to melt. Heavy drops of water start to splash into the basin - it’s her, she’s the water - and she doesn’t even have time to scream before she’s drowning. Water in her lungs. Her nose. Her eyes. Her throat.

Her painfully human heart gives one last beat.

No!

She doesn’t….

Someone cries out her name as the familiar sound of rain hitting the roof echoes throughout the hall.

She doesn’t want to die without ever truly living.

“No!” Furina yells. Her voice is thick with desperation and fear. “No, please!”

Water. She can feel it on her face. She can’t breathe from the tightness in her chest. Her world is crashing down around her and she has failed.

“Someone…anyone…” she pleads desperately. It’s hopeless. No-one has ever answered her cries before. They echo in her ears alone. She shuts her eyes tightly against the pain.

“-dy Furina.”

Alone. Alone forever on the throne she never wanted, crying for her people that she couldn’t save.

“-rina, listen to me..”

Failure of an archon. Failure as a leader. Failure as a human. 

If her one life could have saved them she would have given it gladly. One life for thousands? Set it against the scales and see the obvious choice.

“...nightmare, please…”

But her life wasn’t worth that much. Not to Celestia. Not to her people. Not to—

There’s a hand on her cheek. It’s cool to the touch but heavy and real. She knows this hand. Furina covers it with her own and grips it tightly. An anchor for her to steady herself  while the world spins around her.

“Breathe.”

A plea. She’s not used to hearing him make those. The single word threatens to burst with everything he’s trying to convey. Her dear Iudex, always struggling for the right words to convey his true feelings.

Furina breathes. She hears him inhale with her. Every breath loosens the knot of terror in her chest a little more until she has the strength to open her eyes.

Neuvillette is there to meet her gaze when she does. There is no chance to see anything else, there is only him and the anguish on his face as he watches her calm down. Furina throws herself into his arms.

They open immediately for her, crushing her against his chest as he shields her from the shadows of her own mind. He says nothing as she buries her head into his shirt and cries out the rest of her fear.

His arms are like steel bands around her shoulders and waist but she knows he would release her instantly if she asked him to. Just as she knows if she asked him to hold her forever he would. 

In this moment Furina is the safest person in all of Fontaine, perhaps even all of Teyvat as the power to control the very oceans themselves surrounds her in a protective embrace.

It takes a few minutes for her to calm down. She doesn’t dare look at him as shame rises to replace terror.

“I’m sorr—”

“Don’t.” He cuts her off, sharply but not unkindly. “You never have to apologize to me, not for anything.” Neuvillette reminds her.

If she were in a better state of mind she would say something about the way his words sound like an oath, whispered into the darkness for only her to hear. The reverence in his tone is blasphemous.

But right now she doesn’t care.

“Stay.” She asks, no eloquent rhetorical flourishes or theatrics to be heard only an honest rawness that makes him squeeze her tighter.

“As you wish, Furina.” Neuvillette murmurs and she lets out a sigh of relief, trusting him to watch over her even in her dreams as exhaustion pulls her to sleep once more.

She flicks one last look at him before slumber takes her. He’s staring down at her with his usual stoic expression but his eyes…oh his eyes are beautiful. Shining with an emotion she’s still too nervous to put a name to.

Her dragon is here and she is safe.

[sunnynwanda]

Could you do a story where a guard of a Supermax prison befriends a supervillain, because he treats him like a genuine human being instead of an animal; and later, all the power-dampeners suddenly fail; and all these villains just revolt against the guards; but supervillain makes sure he’s safe since he was always kind to him?

I understand if you don’t wanna write this!! 💜

Soulitary

It was silent. Excruciatingly so. Supervillain could hear his own heartbeat, the rustling of the fabric over his chest that accompanied every exhale, the strained motion of his eye ticking. He could almost feel the darkness surrounding him.

At first, it was painful. Supervillain was so reliant on his powers that getting deprived of them physically hurt him. His limbs were too heavy, his chest too stiff, and his body too weak. He couldn't move for a fortnight and barely ate anything until he had lost enough weight to be able to lift his body off the floor. Movement, as limited as it was in his cage, seemed to keep him sane. 

The pain subsided, drifting into the back of his mind over time. 

He adapted to the constant darkness of his cell, too. The initial nightmares of horrible creatures lurking in the dark no longer occupied his shattered dreams. There were no monsters with long claws and cold, slimy fingers reaching for his neck, looking to choke the last breath out of him. No, there were no monsters in his cage. The monsters were outside. Patrolling the corridors, mocking the beasts they were ordered to guard, spitting at them and laughing like hyenas, beating up anyone who dared to answer. Supervillain learned to tune out their voices and ignore their sneering remarks. 

But human nature is a terrifying thing. Supervillain got used to the weakness weighing him down. It was not as difficult to lift his head or hold a spoon to eat whatever animal food he was getting fed anymore. He came to terms with the absence of sunlight as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. He even went so far as to condition himself to tolerate inhumane treatment.

The only thing he could not adjust to was the isolation. Solitary confinement. The actual worst they could have done to Supervillain, who adored the confused commotion of his big family. He thrived in chaotic environments, where people talked over each other, laughed out loud and always had something to add to the conversation. 

Conversation. That was what Supervillain was bereaved of. And he felt it - the need, the yearning of human connection. As little as a hello would be enough. Just a word that was truly uttered – not conjured by his frenzied consciousness. 

When he first hears the gentle knock on his door, he doesn't believe his ears. The guards never ask for permission, they barge right in, not dignifying the captives with boundaries. Animals deserve no respect. Thus, Supervillain waits, allowing his eyelids to drop again. He doesn't know why he bothers to open them in the first place when it's pitch black around him, regardless. 

The knock comes again, this time louder. Then he hears a hushed voice. "I'm coming in." 

When no reply follows, the Guard (Supervillain assumes it must be a new one) turns the key, pushing the door halfway open and entering the cell. 

"God, why is it so dark? I can't even see where I'm stepping... Ouch!" He springs back upon stepping on Supervillain's foot and crouches down to place the bowl of food on the floor. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't see."

With his hands now free, the Guard reaches for the flashlight on his belt and turns it on. Supervillain has to cover his eyes - he did not remember light hurting this much - squinting despite his hand obstructing it. It takes him a few moments to adjust, then he wipes the tears off and focuses his gaze on the Guard in front of him. Too young for this miserable place, he thinks to himself while his captor studies him. It's only when their eyes lock, that the Guard comes to his senses, apologising profusely.

"I am so sorry! I did not see you there. I mean, it's hard to see anything in such darkness, but still. My bad." Supervillain is too stunned to react for a number of reasons. Since when did the guards apologise? It was part of the job to inflict suffering on their subjects. Did this one not complete the training? Or was this a trap? Was he acting deft to catch Supervillain off-guard and wound him unexpectedly? 

The Guard, however, keeps rambling. "I thought you would be asleep when you did not answer. It's not an excuse though. I should have checked. That's part of my job, is it not? Ah, you probably wouldn't know." He runs a hand over his face, clearly distressed. Supervillain is amused and too shocked to react. That's the most talking he has heard in months, and a part of him desperately demands to answer. The Guard rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Anyways, here's your food. I don't exactly know what that is, but you're so skinny, you should eat it."

Supervillain's mind is screaming at him, begging his mouth to talk, to say something – anything. God, move! Talk, god damn you, a word, any word!

But before he can squeeze out said word, the Guard waves him goodbye and locks the door, leaving him alone. 

He never touches the food, too consumed by the incident to think about anything other than the ray of light – literally and figuratively –that walked into the solitude of his cage. He spends the next several hours in feverish dreams bordering reality until the morning arrives, poisoning him with a blood-curdling idea that the Guard was nothing but a figment of his own imagination – a chimaera created by his delusional mind. Yet, despite his best efforts to convince himself it was an illusion, his memory opposes, bringing forth every detail of the interaction – albeit one-sided – that he managed to engrave in his brain. 

Supervillain is still deep in deliberation when a knock on the door attracts his attention. He freezes, breath hitching in his throat as he waits with desperation for it to come again. It does not. Instead, the key turns in the lock, and the door screeches open. 

"I'm going to turn the light on, if you don't mind," the Guard warns. Supervillain is dumb enough to nod in the dark. "Here we go." 

He flicks the switch outside the cell door; the bulbs buzz worriedly, and light floods the ascetic room. Supervillain looks around, seeing his dungeon for the first time. He notices his blanket in the corner and the untouched bowl from yesterday. 

"Hey, you didn't eat at all! Is everything alright?" The Guard chimes into his thoughts. His voice is laced with concern that feels foreign in this place. When Supervillain shakes his head, the Guard smiles – the room, somehow, becomes brighter. "It's bad, isn't it?" 

Supervillain nods, and the Guard chuckles, placing a new hot bowl in front of him. He looks up in surprise and is met with a shrug. "Figured it might taste better hot." 

The expectant gaze of the Guard is the only reason he reaches for the bowl. It's as shitty as before, but it warms his insides. He hums in appreciation, taking another spoonful. The Guard smiles again, now more cheerful. "Should I leave the lights on? Or do you like it dark?"

Supervillain finally finds his voice. "Light. Thank you." 

The Guard nods before exiting, and Supervillain curses himself for not saying more. He should have talked, for god's sake. This is the first person to treat him like a human being for the past eight months, and all he could muster were three words. 

He feels pathetic. This wasn't him, not really. The true Supervillain was voluble, articulate with his words and emotions and loud. Very, very loud. He loved the attention it earned him, loved being on stage. Performance was part of his persona, his public image of a supervillain. The presentation was what gained him the fame. The same fame that led him here. Alas, he sighs, leaning his back on the wall. 

At least he has light now. 

***

It's been almost four months since Supervillain's confinement changed - the granted light and occasional conversation made his exile from society feel less strenuous. His Guard would come in once a day, as per the rules. Aside from that, he gained a habit of sitting outside his door after the evening rounds, telling Supervillain about his day or the news. His cheerful voice would catch Supervillain off-guard at first, but he grew accustomed to it, as well as to the daily dose of prison gossip. The people in the city were dejected - mass arrests that were supposed to bring peace to the streets had a reverse effect. Supervillain couldn't help the foul smile this knowledge brought to his face. He did not comment. 

After two weeks of talking to the wall, the Guard was ready to give up. He had promised himself he would stop trying after the fourteenth night, which ended up being the night Supervillain replied. It was a short comment on the newly installed power dampeners that were to substitute the old ones. Supervillain pointed out that the old ones were more than efficient, leaving him drained of strength and energy. The Guard then asked if that was the reason he was so skinny, and so the conversation flowed. Supervillain told him about the thorny months of his captivity, how it took him countless days and nights to submit to the unfamiliar weakness. 

During one of the many conversations that followed, they talked about his past, the origin of his unnatural power and the reasons for his incarceration. Supervillain never denied being dangerous – he embraced it gladly, though he never used his power against innocent civilians. Sure, he had committed his fair share of crimes, as regarded by the authorities, irrespective of his cause. But there were worse things he could do.

The Guard told him of his past dreams and aspirations, all of which were crushed when he lost his parents and had to step up to provide for his younger siblings. He came from a household where no one got left behind, and Supervillain finally understood where his kindness stemmed from. 

One day, when the Guard came from the last round, Supervillain was the first to speak. They sat on the opposite sides of the door, back to back and separated by thick metal, yet connected stronger than before. 

"So, will you be leaving soon?" Supervillain fails to mask the melancholy in his voice. So much for being supportive!

The Guard pauses for a long moment before shaking his head no. Supervillain can't see him, but the reply is clear as day. "Your brother's graduating next month, is he not? You can stop working here and search for a new job. More suitable for you."

"I can't," his voice comes softer than a rustle. He presses a clammy hand to his forehead to calm the burn beneath his skin. 

"Why?" In all honesty, Supervillain does not want him to answer. He doesn't want him to go either, but keeping him here feels blasphemous. Despite the cell draining his life force and loneliness ravaging what's left, Supervillain would rather be forlorn again than allow his friend to waste his youth here.

"I can't, Supervillain," the Guard repeats, even lower now, not trusting his voice to speak louder.

Supervillain curses under his breath. "Why not?

Do not say what I think you're going to say, they plead. I don't think I have the strength to alienate you or push you away to make you go. 

"Because I won't leave you here alone." The Guard gets up, walking away to avoid being lectured on the stupidity of his reason. He lacks the nerve to be any bolder. 

He doesn't return until later at night. Supervillain is stiff against the door when he hears approaching footsteps and shuffling. Then comes the soft voice. "I'm sorry."

Supervillain sighs, rubbing his eyebrows to ease the tension. "You did nothing wrong." The claim is met with silence, so he adds. "Apart from getting attached to the wrong person, that is."

The Guard chuckles, shaking his head and bringing his knees to his chest. "Are you the wrong person?"

"I'm a convicted criminal." A fact he had to remind himself daily when he first got here. You are a convicted criminal, and the guards will treat you as such. Except the treatment was far worse than that, until his new friend showed up.

"Doesn't mean you're evil," the Guard chimes into his thoughts, dragging him back to the present. 

"You don't know me," he notes, though it's not entirely true. 

The Guard smiles, leaning forward and placing his chin on his knees to rest his neck as he mumbles. "I think I know more than anyone else."

***

The wailing of the sirens forces Supervillain awake in the most unsettling way. The alarm lights under the ceiling flicker red, alerting him further. He springs to his feet with a speed he hasn't had in a long time and then stops in his tracks because it strikes him. The overwhelming force that hits him right in the middle of his chest, spreading all over his body, obstructing his lungs with suffocating constrictions, rushing through his veins and reaching the tips of his fingers and toes to erupt in sparkles of sheer unrestrained raging power. It's surreal. All-consuming. Galvanising. He revels in the agitation that washes over him, wave after wave. His senses are overstimulated and raw. 

He feels lightheaded as he attempts to focus his eyes on his prickling fingers. It takes him a moment to identify the cacophony of sounds outside. 

And then the realisation dawns on him. 

The power dampeners are off. 

In a prison with the worst criminals of the damn century. He closes his eyes to tune out the noise and think, but his mind is too frantic to concentrate. The moment the inmates realise their powers are back, all hell will break loose. Supervillain knows they will revolt. He would, too – after spending months being treated worse than an animal.

The Guard. The image flashes through his thoughts so fast it almost burns him. With renewed anxiety, he bangs on the door. There's no response, and the ideas running through his head coat his stomach with dread, hot and muggy. He knows it's about to get dirty, and, in all honesty, those guards deserve it. But not his Guard. Not him. Anyone but him. 

He presses his palms against the door, channelling all his fears and worries into heating the metal till it melts under his fingers. It drips down to his feet, forming a pool. When the lock is soft enough, he whips the door open, but as he is about to step outside, someone crushes into his chest, pushing him back and shutting the door behind them. 

He lets out a sigh of relief as the Guard presses his back to the door, holding it closed. 

"That's not going to work." 

"Please don't go out there!" 

They speak at the same time, and Supervillain can't help the smirk that fights its way to his face. "Scared I'll harm your friends?"

"I'm scared they'll hurt you." His eyes are enormous as he stares up at Supervillain, who looks much healthier now. He looks alive. His skin is no longer grey, his lips and cheeks are coloured in pink hues, and even his eyes sparkle with new vigour. He takes hold of Guard's shoulders, pinning him further against the door to stabilise his shaking form. 

"Stay here. Be quiet." The Guard shakes his head no, grasping Supervillain’s arms with an unspoken plea. Supervillain softens. "It's okay. I will keep you safe. I promise." 

With that, he moves the Guard to the side and exits the cell, sitting down against the door – roles reversed from hours before. From time to time, the Guard hears people come and run the moment they spot Supervillain's menacing form.

It's only four hours later that the military arrives, clearing the area and arresting the surviving prisoners. As they bring order to the facility, checking floor after floor Supervillain opens the door. He is met by a tear-stained face and hard stare of his Guard. Supervillain huffs out a laugh and draws him into an embrace before pushing him out the door.

"Try not to forget me when you leave," he jokes half-heartedly, but the Guard shakes his head with surprising firmness. 

"I will get you out of here no matter what it costs me."

He never steps foot in the prison again but manages to keep his oath three months later. When Supervillain exits the gates with release papers in hand, he does not expect to be met by a mixed bunch of his siblings and strangers who all seem to be acquainted. It's moments later that he notices another familiar face he failed to spot for lack of the usual uniform. He shakes his head with a cheeky smile and rushes towards the kindest people in his life. 

Supervillain never has to endure silence or solitude again. 

Alright, there's a lot to unpack here :) First of all, thank you for the wonderful request. It turned out longer than expected, as well as took me longer to finish, but then again, the idea deserved to be worked on. I enjoyed crafting this story immensly. So thanks for that as well. I know other writers have been doing the request too but avoided reading their stories to keep mine clear of influences.

I hope you enjoy this despite the delay. Once again, thank you! xo Sunny

Masterlist

[painandpoesy]

LOVELY RUNNER FIC

Sunjae's POV (when he remembers everything)

"Ajushi!"

What? Whose voice is that? Why does she sound so familiar that my flesh starts to tremble in anticipation? Why does the rain feel so familiar on my skin? What are these memories that are rushing through my head? Why does my heart ache like I am about to die? What is this longing, and how come I am desperate to hold that girl running with a yellow umbrella in her hands under the rain in my arms like she's my lifeline? Like she's the air I breathe, the reason for my existence?  Where is this greed to feel her warmth coming from? Why does my chest feel like it's about to explode? Am I losing my mind?

"Sunjae. I'm your fan."

How come she's in a wheelchair? What happened to her, and why was she looking at me with tears welling up in her eyes? What is this feeling of helplessness, and why does it start building up in my lungs? Why do I feel like I am carrying these regrets on my shoulders?  I feel like shit, and it's torturing me. A fan? She's telling me she's my fan, but why does my heart start breaking upon hearing her say that? Who am I to her? Who is she to me?

"Sunjae-ah! It must have been so hard for you to go through this alone. You couldn't tell anyone that you were struggling. I didn't know how much pain you were in. I'm sorry that I didn't know."

Why is she running towards me with tears brimming in her eyes? Why is she calling my name as if she only has one chance to do so? Why does she look like she's filled with regrets? Why is she hugging me as if she does not want to let go? How come I feel comforted? How come my heart swells with joy? Who in the world is she to make me feel this way?

"Im Sol!"

Why am I frantically calling her name? Why am I running as if my life depended on it? Where is this fear coming from? Why am I trembling with fear of losing her? Why am I desperate and helpless at the same time? When did this kind of fear make its way to me? Why am I scared cold of not being able to see her again? Of not being able to hold her hand again? Of not being able to wrap her in my arms again? Im Sol. Why does your name seem to be at the tip of my tongue all this time? Who are you to make me feel everything at once?

"Sunjae-ah. I like you."

"Sol-ah!" I called out as I stood still at the sidewalk.

I remember everything now.

I catch my breath when everything starts to make sense. My head hurts as the images flash before my eyes like a cinematic de javù with no end. I clutch my chest and dig my fingers into the fabric of my coat, as the unexplainable yearning for something I could not even name all these years and the void that keeps haunting me now make sense. Even the moments when I catch myself in tears for reasons I cannot even figure out start to feel real.

"Im Sol," I muttered under my breath as tears started brimming in my eyes.

Why do you have to do this, Sol? After remembering everything, I cannot help but ask all the whys. Why do you have to make the yearning worse by erasing yourself from my life? Why do you have to make your life miserable just for my sake? Why do you have to suffer by remembering everything while I live the life you chose for me, oblivious to the lives I have lived with you in it? There is no crueler torture than losing every moment I have spent with you and not being able to miss it, relive it, or cherish it. It is much worse than death. I chose to die for you, and it was never your fault. I have loved you in every timeline, and I would die for you over and over again without regrets.

"Sol-ah!"

Right. That's your name. The girl I secretly loved during my youth. How dare I forget your name? The way you smiled at me and how your eyes lit up the first time we met under the rain? I should not have forgotten the numerous times you uttered my name. How you came back for me in your desperate attempts to save me when I was also desperate to save you. These memories, good or bad, I'll cling to the last bit of them because you're there. Remembering everything at once makes me want to run to you despite my lungs closing in, despite my knees losing strength, and despite my heart pouncing inside my chest.

"Im Sol." I can barely hear myself as I fell on the pavement as the overwhelming realizations made my knees weak.

"I beg you. Please allow me to remember." I watch the starless sky above me as the tears start to trail down my cheeks.

"Look! This watch is a time machine. I'm Im Sol from 2023, the future."

Allow my heart to break because, for the longest time, there was nothing in here but longing.

"Even if you were to end up in a different time. I would jump over space and time to see you."

Allow me to shed these tears for you because 15 years was a long time of waiting, and you must've gone through prolonged agony in your waking days.

"I hope you're selfish. I hope you think about how you can be happier and live a better life at times like this."

Allow my hands to hold you once again, because for once I would really like to be selfish. Let me soak in your warmth, because a decade and a half without you has left me cold.

Allow me to be the Sun Jae you knew from the start. Allow me to dedicate the rest of my life to you from this day forward and slowly fill the void fate has brought upon us. Allow me to continue to foster the kind of love that transcends time and space. The kind of love that is only meant for you, my Sol.

Note: This was inspired by a prompt by @saltedsan

[goddamnitchuuya]

hi! i saw ur reqs were open so i thought id ask (absolutely no pressure if u don't want to write for this^^)

nyway could u maybe write smth about pm!dazai + degrading??

i rlly don't see enough appreciation of pm!dazai on tumblr and i am starving for content lmaoo

he!!! 🛐

contains: dom pm!dazai x f reader, dazai is a sadist, degradation, choking, exhibitionism, very light bondage, breeding, creampie.

minors dni.

"Can't even keep quiet during the last seconds? If the door wasn't shut so loudly, he could've heard a whore choking under my desk. Or perhaps he really had, 's that what you want?"

Dazai who roughly catches a fistful of your hair and pushes you deeper onto his cock. The sheer amusement in his laughs when you gag more sends shiver down your body. Your throat closes tightly around the fat cockhead, boosting his ego even more. He thinks whether it's because of how you absolutely love being humiliated by him, or getting caught by his subordinate or just literally anyone. How pathetic you are when he pushes you off his cock, he watches you cough and suck in deep breaths, wiping the remaining white fluid on your chin.

"I'd get up and shoot him twice, but you just had to get in my fucking way."

Dazai, whose lap you're being held in place on. Being his cockwarmer already has you frustrated, now even with a vibrator right above your swollen clit. Your lips must hurt from how hard you're biting them, palms all bruised by your own nails digging into the skin. He won't touch you properly, no. Can't you see he's busy? His chin over your right shoulder, dark eye fixed on the mess of work on the desk surface. But you're just a greedy slut who can't keep her mouth shut - his words - who's god damn desperate for his attention, constantly hungry for his cock, can't live without his cum fucked deep inside you. Those things slipped out from his mouth as if his dick weren't twitching and aching to thurst up to your cervix.

"Cut the whines, slut. Unless you want the entire Port Mafia to know how cock starved you are, stay still and don't fucking dare squirt all over my paperwork."

Dazai who doesn't run out of saying to degrade you. He has you bent to the nearest wall once you arrive at your shared bedroom, not bothering to strip you both off. Your wrists are all red, locked in his single hand while his other toys around with your mouth, long fingers pressing down on your tongue that's still coated a bit in his seed. His cock is filling your pussy up so full but he won't stop. It gets all messy on your clothes and he doesn't care. He mockingly calls you a princess, the dirty princess who never gets satisfied of what she gets, not even when her hole can barely hold his cum in anymore.

Dazai... who whispers in a soft voice of how much he loves you when you're fucked too stupid to form any coherent word but his name.

[goingmerryfics]

So since you’re on impel down you’ve surely seen my darling favorite villain Sir Crocodile so may i request just some soft x reader fluff or headcanons for him x a trans male reader i never see x masculine stuff for him but I love him very muchhhhhhh thank youuu 💚👉👈

Trans Male Reader w/ Crocodile

Content: Trans Male reader, he/him pronouns, coming out. No emphasis on if they’re pre or post-op top or bottom so feel free to picture this as you will. No NSFW!

Notes* Thank you for the ask! When I tell you I fell in love with this man the moment he showed up in Alabasta-

You’re not the only one he’s interacted with that doesn’t fully align with the stereotypical gender norms See: Mr. 2

Anyway, as a trans man myself, I’m very happy that this just so happened to be my first official ask. It kind of turned into a bit of a comfort fic, hope that's ok! Please enjoy!

Crocodile

Crocodile knows you’re trans before you tell him

So while you were panicking about coming out to him in the midst of your blossoming relationship, (What if he loses trust in me? What if he reacts badly?) he was oblivious because in his eyes, there was nothing wrong. He was dating you, and you identifying as male or female or otherwise didn’t matter. You managed to worm your way into his heavily fortified heart somehow. Labels didn’t mean fuck all to him if he was already in love with you

Eventually when you do come out to him through ugly tears and hyperventilation, he just kind of blinks at you

“Huh? Why are you crying over that?”

It takes you by surprise

While you’re trying to calm yourself he opens his arms and offers you a hug, which you take happily

While he’s holding you to his chest, he pulls the cigar out of his mouth and sighs

“All that matters is that you’re mine.”

You felt your body begin to relax, surrounded by the warmth of the man holding you tight enough to crack your spine. You’d soaked the front of his shirt with tears and a bit of snot, and yet he didn’t seem to mind. Crocodile holds his cigar away from you so you won’t go into a coughing fit before you can catch your breath, while also being careful of the hook on his other hand- the last thing he needed right now was to snag you on it and hurt you while already in a vulnerable state.

His quiet comfort was enough to pull you out of the panicked state, but he didn’t let up until he felt you take a step back. There was a pause while you wiped up your face as best as you could with your sleeve, and Crocodile stayed patiently waiting until you were ready to look up at him again.

“Better?”

You nod, and apologize for the outburst, but he clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes.

“If I’d known you were so scared to tell me this, I would have let you know a long time ago that I already knew.. Now let's go clean you up.”

Now that the animosity is out of the way though, it feels like your relationship has changed for the better. You feel much more comfortable with him

More importantly, you feel more comfortable sharing certain things with him- and he feels much more comfortable asking questions, too!

One day he asks you what Dysphoria feels like, and man did that take you a few hours to put into words and even then your explanation didn’t feel exactly right

He lets you know very quickly that if there’s anything he can do (he means anything he can pay for, really) that all you need to do is ask and consider it done

He understands when there are days where you don’t want to be touched in certain spots

He makes sure to make it known to anyone else who may know you’re trans that you will not be disrespected whether in his presence or not. If anyone dared to misgender you, he would deal with them accordingly

He also does things that will help you feel ‘manly’, like asking you to open a jar for him even if he could very well open it himself

Long story short, he loves and respects you no matter what

[dira333]

Taste of Love - Himiko Toga x Male! OC

There are different kinds of love, Himiko has learned.

There's Jin, who loved her in the bubbly soda pop kind of way that she loved him, where it fizzes in your stomach and crackles behind your ribs.

There's that warm, toasted marshmallow kind of love she has for Izuku and Ochako, where just thinking of them has her limbs grow warm like she's sat in front of a fire for too long.

There's the ice pop on a hot day kind of love she has for Touya, as he goes by now, that sharp, delicious pain in her teeth that she gets from biting off the ice when she fires off another insult.

There's the warm, hot cocoa kind of love she has for you, curling into a ball in your lap, telling you about the nice dress she saw in the window or the little kitten she got to pet the other day.

And there's that feeling, that "I'm going to lift off any second now" feeling she gets when she hears Rico's name or sees his face, or, god forbid, has to talk to him. She's not sure what to compare it too, that fluttering thing inside her chest that wants to bloom hotly on her face. That feeling of needing him to look at her and yet not wanting to ask for his attention. Of hoping he'll listen but not daring to force it.

And then he grabs her hand on the way to the flower market, his skin hot around hers, his wrist alone thick enough to hang from it like it's a branch and she's the swing. It makes her stomach drop to her knees and her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth and her fingers curl around his in the hopes that he won't let go again.

"Not going to lose you in this mess," he promises and there's a warmth in his eyes that reminds her of her new favorite meal, roasted chestnuts after dinner, huddled in a too large blanket to keep warm, burning your fingertips on the golden delicacy as you peel it and yet you can't stop eating even after your belly's full.

"Do you love me?" Himiko asks, the words wooshing out of her like the last breath she gets to take, ever. And she regrets it, instantly, the forcefulness of it. Hasn't she learned a thing these past years?

But Rico smiles, all golden sunshine in his handsome face.

"Was it that obvious?" He asks and she can hear it, too, the anxiety lacing his voice.

"Not really," she admits, stopping dead in her tracks, "Just hoping, is all."

He doesn't say anything, just lifts her hand to his face and presses a tentative kiss to the back of it, barely brushing his lips over her skin but it's enough to feel it, to leave a trail of goosebumps over every inch of her skin.

And Himiko thought she got it before, that thing about reading in someone's eyes, understanding someone without having to talk, but never the way she does now.

Because it's one thing to hope that you're loved and another to know it, to feel it too.

- - - Bonus - - -

"Let's call him Izumi," Rico proposes one night, one massive hand splayed over her growing belly. "Like a spring fountain. You like spring and you like water fountains, so it's a perfect name."

Himiko's quiet for a while. "Can we call him Jin too?"

"You want that?" Rico asks, his voice just as soft as hers now, his words just as gentle as his hands.

"Yeah," she swallows down a bout of tears, a hurt she thought she had gotten over with. "I want... I want some part of him to live on, you know? The softest part of him, the one rarely anyone got to see."

"Izumi Jin Uyemura," Rico contemplates aloud, his breath washing over her. "I like that."

-

Based on my OC Enrice Uyemura from Passing Peonies, if you don't know him yet, he appears first in Chapter 7... and if you want to know how I imagine him, imagine a dark skinned version of Fatgum that's a bit more square than round and works with flowers.

@misfit-megumi @shoulmate @pixiesavvy @the2ndl @neko-my-cat

@chelseaquake @tiredslepz @frozen-phoenix17 @spltbtch

@touyasprettydoll @dream-girl-stuff @fuzztacular

Tagged all my Passing Peonies Friends.

[midethefangirl]

surrender - hopeless (i'm falling down)

tags: angst, seriously y'all are going to hate me for the three chapters of this fic, pregnancy (unplanned but not unwanted), quan chi is a douchebag here, warning for attempt at forced abortion (i'm about to trigger my own filtering system), hurt no comfort, pre-MK1, and of course it is bireena centered but bi-han makes not physical appearance in this fic.

summary:

notes: continuation of @ladybug023 's spy!sareena headcanons inspiring my writing. I decided to splice this into three chapters because the word count went beyond 3k words and I hate writing super long stories when it comes to platforms like Tumblr. the chapter title is gotten from the lyrics of 'Hopeless' by Breaking Benjamin. also, if you want to join a tagging list for updates, please, let me know and i'll add you 😁❤️

word count: 1.6k words

also cross posted on ao3

part one of surrender; part three of i'm weak so what is wrong with that (i added a new tag for this)

The deepest circle of the Netherrealm was one of the most dreaded locations in the Netherrealm and for a damn good reason. 

It was the place where previous overlords of the Netherrealm banished offending denizens to be tortured by the onis. 

This was the last place Sareena wanted to find herself in but what had she expected the moment she found Quan Chi at the Lin Kuei foregrounds? 

Regret ran through her mind as she awaited her judgment, her palm flat against her lower abdomen, the recent news bringing mixed feelings. 

She and Bi Han had always been so careful… but it is not 100% safe , came that little voice in her head. 

She had lost focus of why she was in the Lin Kuei and now, she was paying severely. Here she was awaiting Quan Chi’s arrival while in Bi Han’s mind, she was as good as dead. 

The last thing that the cryomancer would remember was how she betrayed his clan, how she betrayed him . How she lied to him. 

How could she have deluded herself into thinking she could keep up with the lie she had allowed to fester? How could she have believed that she could stall her day of reckoning? 

Her wishful thinking had done nothing but land her in this mess where her fate and that of her child was dependent on the whims of a dangerous sorcerer. 

Bi Han would never know that she was carrying his child - not that she was aware herself until the onis Quan Chi had assigned as her torturers - Drahmin and Moloch - had somehow detected it. 

The Netherrealm was basically hell, where demons, onis, tortured souls and every possible personification of evil walked about but they had a few rules they followed. 

One of them which was her saving grace, at least, in this moment - a person with child was off-limits. Harming a person with child was seen as a death sentence, enough to have the perpetrator in the deepest circle of the Netherrealm. 

It could be her saving grace but knowing Quan Chi, any assurance dwindled by a great percentage. The sorcerer was from Outworld, not a native of the infernal realm. Sareena doubted he’d respect this rule. 

Ha , Quan Chi respecting the rules of the Netherrealm? That was as laughable as the many dreams of liberating the realm from his hands. After overthrowing Lucifer with the help of the Sisterhood of Shadows, the sorcerer had made himself a tyrant, keeping denizen under his thumb. 

Anyone who dares to defy his dictatorship ended up in the position she was currently in. Either that or on the run like Ashrah, which did not seem so bad right now. 

Quan Chi had gained unilateral control over the Netherrealm and he showed great disdain towards its rules. This one would be no different. 

Hell, he’d torture her himself, unborn child be damned. The thought of that had the demon clutching her abdomen protectively, if she had to fight to her last breath to protect herself for the sake of her child, she’d gladly do that. 

The heavy sound of boots against the stone pavement had her alert, her eyes looking up to see Quan Chi flanked on his sides by Drahmin and Moloch. 

She sat up straight, her back against the wall as she finally came face-to-face with the brown-skinned sorcerer who stared at her venomously. 

“Why is she still here, unscathed?!” He turned towards the onis, his tone miffed as he spoke like she was not right in front of him. 

The onis exchanged looks, obviously displaying their fear of the sorcerer who impatiently expected their answers. 

“L-Lord Quan Chi- we- w-we thought,” Drahmin started, stumbling over his words as he struggled to get his words through. 

Sareena could tell this was the moment where the sorcerer was so close to losing his shit. He rarely expressed his anger in outbursts which was terrifying in this scenario. 

“Speak up you imbecile!”

“She is with child,” Moloch blurted and Quan Chi let out a mirthless chuckle which chilled Sareena to the bones. 

“That should not stop you.”

“We cannot-. It is forbidden,” Drahmin interjected. 

He knows that , Sareena wanted to add but at this moment, her silence was more golden than whatever comeback she had on the tip of her tongue

The room fell silent as Quan Chi crouched down to her level. The demon attempted to keep as much distance as she could but she could only go so far when her back was against the wall. 

The sorcerer pressed a hand against her abdomen, chanting some incantations under his breath. Then, he jerked his hand away, recoiling as if he was shocked by electric current. 

He was on his feet now and his eyes widened, time standing still as he looked down at her. It was like the dreaded calm before the storm and Sareena could not afford to trust this silence, her eyes looking cautiously at him. 

A myriad of emotions flitted across the sorcerer’s face before settling for rage and disdain. Quan Chi’s lips curled into a sneer as he seemed to put two and two together. 

“You whore!” He spat venom. 

He knew, there was no way he would not know. 

“It is that pathetic Earthrealmer, isn’t it? He sired this bastard, didn’t he?” He jeered. “It is not enough that you failed your mission but you had to let that Earthrealmer bed you and put his seed inside you.”

Sareena could almost feel herself let out a sob. Quan Chi’s face was too calm, way too calm for the venomous words he tossed her. It was a moment of when he’d strike at her. 

And her fear was about to come true. 

“Seize her!”

No, no, no.

“No!” She yelled, the moment Drahmin and Moloch were at her sides, their hands pulllng her up. She struggled against the iron-cladded grip of the onis who dragged her out of her cell. 

“Please! Please, don’t do this!”

“I’ll get rid of that bastard if I have to. Shang Tsung would have a field day helping me,” a smug look fell upon the sorcerer’s face. 

It felt like a century had passed when she found herself in a room she was unfamiliar with. Her face was stricken with tears, her voice hoarse from her cries. 

“Quan Chi!” A voice broke through and everyone’s attention was focused on a new presence. A pair of amethyst eyes fell upon her still in the rough grips of the onis. 

The dark-skinned demon pushed through Quan Chi before reaching for Sareena. Drahmin and Moloch had released her instantly, making her fall into Jataaka’s arms. 

“What in Lucifer’s name is going on?!” Jataaka demanded, her eyes glaring fiercely at Quan Chi who was now displeased that the demon had dared meddle in his affairs. 

“Stay out of this, Jataaka,” Quan Chi shot back. 

Sareena found herself shaking, her hand instinctively on her abdomen as she shrunk into Jataaka’s protective hold.

Jataaka stood her ground, her hold firm around Sareena. The demon had a fierce look in her eyes, the kind that had even Quan Chi and his two henchmen pause.

“You would really protect a traitor? Someone who tried to leave the Sisterhood for a pathetic Earthrealmer?” The sorcerer scoffed, his question aimed at the demon who still had her arms around Sareena.

“Still a sister nonetheless. I am not going to let you hurt her, sorcerer,” the demon hissed.

This seemed to have struck a nerve as Quan Chi stepped up to her, his face dangerously close.

“She is pregnant with an Earthrealmer’s spawn. If I have to rip that abomination out of her, then so be it,” he spat.

Jataaka remained unfazed, her gaze piercing as her arms tightened around the demon.

Then, it seemed as though the demon had thought of something.

"You are not going to harm a fellow member of the Sisterhood," she reminded. “Neither are you going to lay your filthy hands on her offspring.”

Sareena wondered if the other demon had gone mad, taunting Quan Chi the way she was. The sorcerer had no qualms about ending her life or that of her unborn child.

"Are you forgetting who rules the Netherrealm, Jataaka?" The sorcerer questioned, a hint of a smirk forming on his face.

Jataaka stood her ground, her grip tightening, “You are an outsider who managed to best us, it would do you some good to know your place and remember the rules of the realm you reside in.”

It may have sounded like an empty threat but it was anything but. The Sisterhood of Shadows have helped overthrow previous overlords, they would not give up on overthrowing Quan Chi either.

"What are you trying to get at?" The sorcerer questioned.

"If you touch a single hair on her head, her unborn child or her, you will have the wrath of the Sisterhood and Lucifer upon you. You think we will tolerate you harming a member of the Sisterhood?" Jataaka said.

Quan Chi narrowed his eyes at her, a scowl forming on his face, "Very well, then. Have it your way.”

His gaze was now on Sareena and the demon felt a chill running down her spine.

"But I will be back. Soon," the sorcerer spat before taking his leave.

Drahmin and Moloch trailed behind him like two lost puppies, leaving Sareena and Jataaka alone in the room.

The demon could feel herself shaking, she was not in the clear just yet. Her child was still in danger and Quan Chi would make sure to get rid of them.

Jataaka had noticed her distraught, the demon holding her in a reassuring embrace, "Don't worry, he will not touch you. We won't let him."

She could only hope so.

tagging: @livingdeadgirly

[mafiatsunafish]

So, if you will, you can say that John Soap MacTavish and his older sister Alisa MacTavish can be considered as Bruce Wayne wards.

Initially, the siblings only know of their parent, they lived a peaceful life in the countryside of Scotland. Only them, they had never heard or meet any of their other relatives, saint to their mum’s cousin who they briefly saw one in a blue moon.

Until there was a car accident, a drunk driver and a in responsive brake, the two woke up side by side miraculously alive but now without their parents. Little John woke up and he cried, little Alana tried her best to stay strong for her brother and herself, too.

However, it was not for long, right when they seemed fit to be released from the hospital, there was a man who dressed in an impeccable black suit stood in front of them. John was too young back then to realize who is that man but Alisa can, she knew that was her mum’s cousin.

“I am Bruce, your uncle. Would you like to come with me?”

Alisa knew that she shouldn’t believe a man no more than a stranger to them, a man they barely know anything, a man you just appear right after their parents just gone and offer them to come with him. John looked at her nervously while his hand still grip the hem of her skirt tightly. They didn’t know any other people, they were alone and his eyes were filled with genuine care and worries.

So they come with him.

And just never leave.

(Little did they know, they are the start of Bruce’s adoption problem cause he never stop collecting strays)

Then he brought home kid that he had told them from the circus, Alisa becomes Bruce’s oldest then Richard or Dick and then John.

(Alisa would fight tooth and nails with anyone who dares to touch her baby brothers, but between Dick’s chandeliers swinging and John’s eerie interest in fire, she don’t know who she want to kick first)

(Batman gained his first Robin while the MacTavish stay with at the back with Alfred, learning how to cook, tends wounds and deal with stubborn vigilantes)

Then Jason came home with a defensive face, after Dick stormed his way out of the manor. Alfred, Alisa and John joined force to take care of the tiny Jason. John finally meet another book nerd that he can camp in the manor’s library with and Alfred had another tail, following him around the kitchen.

But then Jason was gone. It shattered the family once again.

(Batman almost lashed)

Dick moved to Bludheaven and Nightwing soared, John determined to go back to England and enlisted then somehow earned the name Soap.

Only Alisa stayed, hoping one day her brothers will come home.

Then a child stalker named Wayne’s neighbour appeared, Tim Drake is a genius baby who has crippling caffeine addiction and fucked up self-preservation sense. Alisa now has her third baby brother who she would definitely bite someone's head off if they dared to touch him.

(Jason is alive, he is alive, he is alive, he is-)

Then come Damian, Damian Wayne, son of the Bat. God, her murdered baby, their family's precious murdered tiny assassin. He came with so much rage and violence, with so many scars and hurt. She has sworn, until her last breath, she will try her damn best to make him feel loved.

Cassandra Cain just materialized from a shadow one day and called Alisa older sister, Alisha was overjoyed when this household finally had another girl. She loves to go shopping with Cass and gossip with the girls, she loves watching Cass gracefully dance and beat the shit out of their brothers and she loves how Cass slowly becomes more human.

And steaming Jesu’ Christ, is that her John dangling on the window edge of that fucking skyscraper?! And what he is doing with that Lieutenant Ghost with all those talking?????

(thanks O for gave her both visual and sound of that particular moment, because, what the fuck?)

(for some reason, there has been sight of Batman and various of Gotham’s vigilantes in Chicago, what’s the bat colony doing there? No one is sure)

(not for shovel talk or threatening government military)

Alisa MacTavish missed her parents but she also loved the family that that one weird uncle brought her through the years.

(Alisa: Bruce, yer have a problem, yer know?

Bruce: hn

Dick: She is right, B. Like Batman is one thing, but collecting kids?

Bruce: hn)