#this has taken up too much brain power of mine

[cybernightart]

The topic of Genji's height!

This part I copied from 2 reddit posts of mine a few months ago:

post 1:

questions and discussion i guess? but how tall is Genji?

cuz i looked it up and read somewhere he's 5'7 but if brig is 6'3 and these two are right next to each other, like almost shoulder to shoulder ...how does he (at least to me) look a minimum of 5'9-5'10 maybe even 6ft if you push it?

additionally right before this in that scene he looks taller than Mercy(I've seen she's 5'7?), but that could be camera angle as she's like a foot or two away?

*screenshot from zero hour*

I'm so confused, I'm still learning about the characters and I've just heard so many different answers and nothing conclusive, and when i looked it up again i just found its apparently unknown? idk...

post 2:

I swear they are forever making Genji taller, in some of the first pictures we have of the cyborg he's tiny, but over time dude gets sm taller! like in this photo from Recall he's like 5'8ish compared to mercy (who is in heels) but he's like a foot shorter then Cass even though Cass is 6'1.

then Genji standing next to brig (who is 6'3) in Zero Hour he's JUST shorter then her.

and from some research online Kiriko is also 5'7(ish), which makes this new post for the Collab event even more confusing!

i might be the only one who cares about this, but it is so confusing (and funny). He just seems to be getting taller!!! and we cant even say he was a teen at the time and hit a growth spirt or something since the recall picture, cuz he was like 25-27+ at that time from what i can tell. and its not that his cybernetic legs are just longer because to cause him to be this much taller, he would be so disproportionate!

They could be retconning his height some what? but I don't see why they would? overall...i just have no idea XD

Opm x Overwatch Collab launch date picture

screenshot from zero hour

picture originally from Recall

AND NOW NEW STUFF:

its not perfect due to the cameras heights being at slightly different perspectives due to height differences, but I did match the bots height so they are all the same so its as direct of a comparison as I can do myself. I also didn't use Brig because I don't have any emotes for her.

Now we know Lw is 7ft tall, Hanzo is 5'8 and mercy is 5'7, but we don't actually know Genji's cannon height! and people say he's 5'7 but he cant be!

and then when you compare heights this is the only height for genji that really makes sense for this scale, but that even is odd because of Kiriko. SO THAT MEAN GENJI IS LIKE 6FT AND KIRIKO IS WAY SHORTER THEN FIRST THOUGHT?!?!?

I used this site:

ok, that's all for now, and thank you for coming to my tedtalk

[permanentmess]

pacman (peter maximoff x mutant!fem!reader)

a/n: i had this idea after i bought a handheld pacman game. reader in this has powers that allow her/them to control and create technology. basically has mechanical mastery but like as a power. no set time period for this really, but peter and reader are in their 20s

warnings: none! just fluff, mild language, mentions of one minor injury. angst if you squint

summary: reader notices that peter gets bored often and decides to make him a gift

word count: 974

GIF NOT MINE

~~~

It had taken hours to create it. You spent so much time holed away in a tiny lab area that you were given to practice your powers. Hank practically begged you to leave and interact with someone other than him because of how long it had taken. 

All the little things you had begun to notice about Peter Maximoff were piling up in your mind. It had gotten to the point where journaling was almost making it worse, and Jean and Charles kept looking at you with pleading looks in their eyes. They’d chastise you in your head, telling you to just tell him so your brain could quiet down. 

Not in the mood to ruin the vibe the school had going though, you stuck to your details that you kept safely guarded in your heart. How he’d fidget, his favorite games, the movies he’d stand and watch while getting side tracked in the lounge, the bands he loved, and the boredom he inevitably got 5 minutes into a plane ride to a mission. 

You smiled as you boxed your creation and put it safely in your room.

…..

“Peter!” you call out to him when you see him in the hallway later that week. You were done teaching for the day and you knew he was too. He looks up from the paper a student was showing him and nods at the kid, sending him on his way.  

“Hey! What’s going on?” he says, speeding up to you and brushing against your side. You both start walking in sync to the dining area. 

“Just got done teaching for the day,” you say quickly. “Listen, I have something for you.” 

He lights up a little. “What is it? Tell me, tell me-”

You laugh at him. “Hold on a minute, geez. We gotta eat dinner first, and then you can have it.” You arrive at the dining room and stop at the end of the line. 

He groans dramatically and you laugh. “You’re so mean to me, and for what? Can I have a hint at least?” He hands you a plate before grabbing one for himself. 

“Hmm,” you pretend to ponder as you scoop food onto your plate. “Nope.” You look at him with a playful smile on your face as he pouts at you. 

The times you laughed the most are when you were with Peter. Your face usually hurts after you guys hang out, and that was pretty much everyday since you arrived at the school. Even when he accidentally bruised your foot from running over it so fast, he still managed to make you laugh in an effort to apologize. 

You both sit down to eat. “You’ll live.” 

~~

He barely makes it through dinner. You’re surprised he doesn’t super speed you to your room once you put your plates away. He is practically dragging you there though. 

Once you make it to your room, you purposely start moving slowly to unlock the door. He playfully smacks your arm and you laugh at him, moving at a normal speed (well, for you that is). 

“Okay, you have to sit patiently and wait,” you say, gesturing to your bed. “I have to grab it from where I hid it.” 

He snorts but obliges. You raise your eyebrows to make sure he stays while you open your dresser drawer, reaching under a shirt to grab out the small box. 

“I spent a lot of time making this, which is where I’ve been disappearing to lately. If it breaks just let me know.” You’re shaking a little bit, heart rate slowly getting higher. You hope he doesn’t notice as you hand him the box. 

He looks up at you with soft eyes before he opens it. Despite his super speed, he opens the box slowly and unwraps the gift. He gasps. 

“No fucking way. Is this what I think it is?” You let a small smile seep through on your face as you nod. “How did you do this? Holy shit, wait, you made this?” 

You grin, finally relaxing a little now that you know he likes it. “The hardest part was the plastic but I had Hank and Xavier help a little bit. That’s why I asked you if I could look at your PacMan machine though.” 

Before you even realize what’s happening, he’s standing up and pulling you in for a tight hug. You’re taken aback but quickly relax into it, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He pulls back after a minute, still holding you slightly in his arms. 

“I’m really glad you like it. I know how much you like that game, so I figured you could use a smaller version instead of having to go to yo-" You’re cut off when Peter’s lips attach to yours.

Despite your shock, you melt into the kiss almost immediately. He pulls you closer by your hips once you relax, and you reach up to run your hands through his hair. He sighs and pulls back once you do, resting his forehead against yours with his eyes shut. You both catch your breath for a moment. 

“Sorry, I-”

“Maximoff, why are you apologizing for kissing me?” He smiles at that, pressing another quick peck to your lips. 

“I guess I should say sorry for not doing it sooner.” He’s running his thumbs along the side of your hips, causing you to shiver. “Are you cold?” 

“No. Unless it gets me one of your hoodies. In that case, yes.” He laughs at you and pulls you in, cradling your head against his chest. You wrap your arms around him again, content with just standing here like this. 

“You can have as many as you want.” He pauses for a moment. “You want to cuddle in one while I try this thing out?” 

“Hell yeah.”

[jasmines-library]

Hi! I think you said that you would write for Cassandra? If you don’t it’s fine and feel free to ignore this <3

I used he/him pronouns but if you don’t do male readers you can make it gn! :)

Here we go.. So the reader is 12 and younger than the rest of the family. He is a child weapon like cass and Damian. Actually he is Cassandra’s little brother, he was made solely on defeating Cassandra after she escaped. He also has electricity powers and is as much as good of a fighter like Cassandra. So he is sent on a mission to destroy or eliminate Cassandra or another family member but the batfamily stops him. Somehow they knock him out after a hard fight and put him in a. Cell or somethin. They find out he is Cassandra’s bio little brother and are determined to help him. So they talk to him when he wakes up or something and cassandra is like really clingy and protective of him so he reluctantly stays.

If you can, can you show some snippets or short story of his interactions with others and how he is adjusting to his new life in the manor, (he also gets to be a vigilante along side them.)

BROTHER MINE

Summary: Male Reader is a child weapon with electricity powers, created with the intent to kill Cassandra after she escaped, though when he tried to take her down and he gets caught he ends up with much more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Kinda child abuse? (It's a child assassin), violence. Nothing explicit or graphic

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Cassandra Cain was the sole reason for your existence. Almost as soon as she left you were dragged away from your mother kicking and screaming to begin your training. Sandra feared it would happen at some point. Cain had taken her daughter, it was only in due time until he would take her son. 

Although you were older than Cass when she began her training, they still made you ruthless. They pushed you until your legs were trembling and the only thing that crossed your mind was the art of assassination. You didn’t speak anymore. It was forbidden. This meant that the parts of your brain normally used for speech were trained so you could read your opponents movements to predict their next move in a fight. You remember your mother telling you once that they did that to Cassandra too. It was one of the only things you did remember from what little of your childhood you had before it was ripped away from you. Your training was not much different from your older sisters, though your father had made one thing clear. In order to beat her you had to be better than her. So he pushed you further than he had ever pushed anyone before until something in your brain began to change and you discovered a newfound ability to manipulate electricity. They had made you into the perfect tool; smart and powerful but submissive to the right people. You were a weapon with one mission. Kill Cassandra Cain. 

You roamed the streets of Gotham, mask pulled over your face. Your time had finally come. After years of waiting your father finally found an opening on Cassandra and had sent you into the city to meet her. You had been warned that she was with Gotham’s infamous vigilantes and you had deemed it a welcoming challenge. As you walked, boots scuffling along the floor, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something so utterly wrong about this. You had pursued your sister before without a second thought, but now as you grew older and more wise about your actions a part of you buried deep within your teachings couldn’t help but feel as though you were doing the wrong thing. But you dismissed the thought very quickly, honing in on your surroundings as your training kicked in. 

You could see them now. The five of them perched on a rooftop, just above a bright billboard advertising an expensive brand of clothing. The two eldest seemed to be keeping a watchful eye over the city, even from down on the street you could see the way their heads turned and their bodies tensed up when they thought they saw something. The other two boys seemed to be having a scuffle behind them as they jested between each other. And then there was Cassandra, donning her black and yellow suit. She surveyed silently, leaning against the brick wall of the entrance to the building’s exit staircase. She was on edge, and rightly so. 

You moved silently through the building and up the stairs as though you weighed nothing more than a feather. You hugged the walls, moving swiftly to avoid being detected by any of the blinking red sensors and alarms. It was child's play really; something you could do in your sleep. 

The door to the rooftop was locked when you tried to ease it open gently, so you brought up a spark of electricity to your fingers to fry the circuit so that you could then open the door and slink onto the rooftop without anyone noticing. 

The youngest two vigilantes had since stopped their bickering and were now also surveying the skyline, but your dear sister still hadn’t sifted from where she was before you entered the building.Perfect. 

Moving silently and agilely you ran towards Cassandra and grabbed her roughly from behind. She went down with a cry of alarm but was quickly moving again, flipping you off of her before you even had the chance to think about conjuring up electricity. Her shout had alerted the other four, who quickly came rushing to her aid, weapons readdied as they charged towards you. Nightwing swung his escrima sticks at you, they crackled but you caught them one handed and sent him staggering back so you could move for the next attack. Despite the fact that you were heavily outnumbered, you managed to hold your ground extremely well by maximising your small frame and use of training to slip around them and send them to the ground. The heroes were well trained too though, and the scuffle was tiring for all of you. 

With a flick of your hand, you sent Robin flying across the roof skidding to a stop when he hit the brick wall. Finally you had managed to get rid of the obstacles in your way and could focus entirely on your sister. You turned, manoeuvring your body to land a kick to her chest but she ducked and rolled out of the way before trying to grab your ankle and pull you down to the ground. The two of you fought intensely, neither of you making much progress besides landing the odd lucky punch here and there because you were both able to predict each other's next move. Though eventually, you managed to make a false move and grip her wrists which allowed you to flip her over your body. Once you had her pinned underneath you, you began to conjure up the strength to finish your mission, but something stopped you. She looked up at you with wide eyes, one word slipping from her chapped lips.

“Y/N?”

You froze. 

At some point during your fight with her, your mask had fallen from your face without you noticing, and now she could see exactly who you were. And now your name had fallen from her lips accompanied by that look of recognition, you were stuck still. And one moment of distraction was all it took for one of the other vigilantes to regain their senses and land a heavy blow to the back of your head. 

~

Cass was quiet. More quiet than usual as she sat on the other side of the cell, peering at you from the other side of the bars. There were a million things running through her head all at once and she was struggling to process them. You were alive. You were an assassin. You had tried to kill her. It was a lot to handle. Dick seemed to notice as he glanced up at her from the computer. 

“You okay, Cass?” He frowned, worried for a moment that she was injured more than she let on, but Alfred had checked the five of them over and assured that everyone had escaped with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. 

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought. Dick made his way over to her, sliding down on the bench and eyeing you up. You were still unconscious, Tim had hit you hard with his staff. 

“He’s not gonna get you, Cass.”

“No.” She shook her head, fiddling with her hands in her lap and completely avoiding his gaze. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“He’s my brother.”

Dick had to stop his jaw from dropping completely. “What?”

“I-I thought he was dead. They told me he was dead and now he’s…this is my fault.”

“Slow down.” He told her as the others had started to approach. 

“What’s going on?” Damian asked.

“When I was still living with my father…sometimes my mother would stop by. She seemed cruel too, but she had this tenderness. She knew I was just a child. I suppose I was too young to remember everything, but I remember her telling me stories of a little boy. My brother. Y/N.” She gestured to you. “My father wasn’t supposed to know. Whenever she stopped by she would show me pictures of him and tell me how no matter what happened I must keep him a secret…but I guess my father knew because now he is just like me.”

“Oh, Cass…” Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“A few nights after I escaped, I stopped by my mothers house in hopes of at least seeing him. But he was gone. And instead I found my mother clutching a bloody sheet. I assumed he was dead. But this is so much worse.”

“We can fix this, Cass. We helped you, we can help him.” Dick told her. He understood that what you did wasn’t your fault and that you were just a scared little boy following orders.

She hummed, watching as you stirred before snapping upright on high alert from the moment you woke up. 

You were confused for a moment when you awoke on a small cot in the corner of a cell, but then it all came flooding back to you. You almost immediately noticed the power suppressing cuffs on your wrists and secure bars on the wall. Cursing, you noticed the group of people eyeing you from the other side of the room and instead of staring daggers silently at them like you were taught to do, you began to break down.

The hot, thick tears that cascaded down your face were alien to you but you made no move to stop them from falling. Cassandra furrowed her brow at your demeanour as she had fully anticipated an aggressive reaction.

“s-sorry…” You rasped out. Your voice was so hoarse from not using it for so long you were surprised that you even remembered how to talk, even if your sentences lacked half of the words they needed. “They m-made…”

Cassandra moved closer towards you, ignoring the protests that Jason made. She crouched down near you and studied you. 

“I thought you were dead.” She whispered. 

You recoiled slightly, surprised that she even knew you existed. You shook your head meekly, interacting tenderly with her and going against everything you had known, but despite that it felt so right.

“Oh…Y/N. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“N-Not fault.” You stuttered back. 

“But it is-” She protested. 

“No.”

When one of the other boys approached the cell, you moved back hesitantly. 

“It’s okay.” Cass told you. “You can trust them.”

“We can help you.” Tim said. “If you’ll let us?”

“ c-can’t stay. Father-”

“He won’t know you’re here.” Dick told you. “We’ve kept Cass safe, we can do the same to you too.”

“Please, brother…” Cassandra insisted “Let me make this up to you.”

After pondering a moment, you reluctantly nodded. “Okay.”

BONUS:

Inspired by this image:

Cassandra had not seen you all day and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was getting worried. When she returned from patrol, she had peered into the room that Bruce had given you, only to find it empty. She then checked in the cave to see if you were there, but all she found was a weary Tim and Jason who had been sparring. She asked around, but neither of them had seen you either. 

She was on the verge of panicking as she made her way back to your room to double check, when she heard chatter coming from Damian’s room. It spilled underneath the door with the light into the hallway. She knocked before pushing it open to a most peculiar sight. 

You were sprawled out beside Damian on his bed, with a book in hand. He guided your finger across the page as you read, helping you as you tried to decipher the words on the page.

“I-It…vuh? Vuh…Vuh-uss? It vuss? No.” You shook your head, screwing your face up as you scanned the page. Damian sat patiently beside you. “Was!” You grinned. “It was!” 

“Yes! Well done.” Damian smiled slightly. “keep going.”

“What are you doing?” Cass interrupted, making the two of you jump. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sorry…” You muttered. “Damian teach me to read.”

Cassandra raised a brow. “The demon spawn is doing something nice for once?”

“Tt. No.” 

“Sure looks like it.”

“No. No. it’s for everyone’s benefit. How is he supposed to become a vigilante if he can’t read? Hmm? He needed to learn, so I decided to teach him. No one else was going to do it.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you just wanted to do something nice for once?”

Damian’s cheeks flushed. “No. Of course not.”

Cassandra shook her head. “Keep telling yourself that, Dames.”

[justjams2003]

Desire to be Loved- 4

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x OFC Love/Cupid/Venus (you know how these beings have millions of names) (Also technically it could be an x reader because love is sort of anthropomorphic but in this story a she)

Warnings: Manipulation, threats, crying, cliffhanger, unedited, kind of like enemies to lovers, soulmate au, cursing, tell me if I miss any

Word count: 1,8k+

Dividers by: @hyelita

Tags: @intothesoul @briskesby coffeebeforewater @i-voluntears @dreamingblueberries @idkamt @deniixlovezelda

Masterlist

(I've moved that next part link to the bottom)

Once he saw it, it was hard to ignore. The human world looks so dull. So empty and lame. While he’s been in the waking world a century, he hasn’t been around the humans. He hasn’t seen how the humans built new castles and then broke them down. And as he waits outside this church his mind wanders again.  

When speaking to the Fates, they were vague as always. Not to mention, he only had three questions he could ask. He had to weigh what was more important to him. Finding answers or finding his tools. And while her being missing does have an effect on the humans, he has to trust, even a little, that Desire wouldn’t put his shrewd need for power over the well being of the humans.  

While he did say he wouldn’t go in search of the woman, doesn’t mean that he has much control over where his mind wanders to. Why hasn’t he seen her before? Suddenly one day she stumbles into the right basement of the right house at the exact time he’d been caged?  

Is that some strange coincidence or an act of Destiny... Should he go visit Destiny? No, no, that’s not right. He shouldn't bother Destiny about something that doesn’t have anything to do with his realm. About something paranoic jumping up and down the walls of his brain.  

“Constantine!” This woman does have that redish hue coming from her heart. He fights hard to control the twinge of his lip that tries to sneak up on his face. The remanence of love seem to be everywhere. The woman stops in her tracks. “My gran used to tell me stories about you lot.”  

“What do you want with me?” Johanna asks, still keeping her distance from the man clad in black. “Something of mine came into your possession. A leather pouch filled with sand. I need it back.”  

It hurt, seeing Johanna fight and cry over her soulmate. Of course, she doesn’t know that they’re soulmates. She can’t see the red hue grow bigger when they get closer together. Seeing her in this state, before he wouldn’t really care too much. Now...no, no that’s not it. He gave her something just for the last minute of pain.  

Dream didn’t realise love could hurt so much... 

The crowds of hell are all cheering with excitement at the sound of a challenge. “You know the rules, Dream Lord. If I win, you will return my helmet. And if you lose...” The demon slows down. There is so much and so little that can be taken from the Dream Lord. Lucifer's smiles at this. Her wings stretch out in excitement.  

“Why don’t we keep things interesting...? If Morpheus loses you get to have Dream’s soulmate as a slave to serve you in hell for all eternity.” The Sandman’s head snaps up to Lucifer. “Soulmate...?” He asks, his brows furrowing and his lips pouting like it always does.  

The ruler of hell pretend to act shocked. “Oh? Don’t tell me you didn’t know...?” She smirks, a wicked one. She’s playing Dream, but how would she know? Dream is clearly thinking, his jaw is locked. His soulmate? The red arrow Cupid left him, is it their names carved in?  

Did Desire know about this before? Had he been planning this with Destiny? Does Desire and Destiny make soulmates? The same question is if Desire and Dreams make love. That could be the only way that Desire would’ve known to keep Cupid away from Dream. A soulmate... If soulmates are a thing, can Endless have them too?  

“What will it be, Dream? Your helm or soulmate?” Lucifer asks, circling Dream like you would a shark. “You’re bluffing.” He says, the words jumping from him. He doesn’t usually act impulsively. Usually he thinks things through for at least more than a few seconds.  

“If you believe I’m bluffing it should be an easy choice to make.” The Devil points out, still only just fighting off her smile. Is this why it scared Cupid so much to read the names on the arrow? Did she fear Dream that much? Or rather what Desire would do to her if he found they were soulmates?  

That implies that Desire doesn’t know that they’re soulmates. “I accept the terms.” Now he most certainly can’t lose.  

“You have a soulmate?” Mattew caws when they make their way to the storage unit where his ruby is being kept. “I...did not know I had one. I did not know Endless could have soulmates.” The crow looks up at him. “Doesn’t everyone have one?” Dream just shrugs his shoulders. “Not my department.”  

The crow scoffs. “Who’s is it then?” They enter the storage unit. “I did not know soulmates were a thing until now. It seems that there a huge part of the human’s working that’s been kept hidden from me by my sibling.” He explain, already reaching out for the ruby in the box.  

The waking world is looking much better now. Again, he can’t not see every few people having a pink aura. The pigeons gather around him, pecking at the bread he’s thrown on the ground. “What are you doin'?” Dream sighs looking up at Death. “I’m feeding the pigeons.”  

“You do that too much, you know what you get?” Death asks, putting her hands on his hips. Dream doesn’t answer, he just watches the pigeons jumps about after the bread. “Fat pigeons.” Again just more silence from the dream lord. “That's from Mary Poppins. Did you ever see it?” His eyes slowly turn up to her. “No.” 

The grass is green around the lake. Children run around, giggling with laughter. Dream’s eyes wander for only just a moment. But in that moment he catches a twinkle of a pink dress right in his peripheral vision. His head snaps in that direction. 

Just quick enough to see Cupid come and go in a flash. He stumbles forward to grab her but he’s just too slow. He gasps, his eyes rapidly jump around trying to find her again. Any glance of a pink tule or golden strand of hair. But, nothing.  

He and his sister continue walking. Over a bridge where... there it is again! He runs to the edge of the bridge, leaning over trying to see it again. He saw her, crouching behind some poor human who likely just had their heart broken. His heart is in his ears again but why?  

His sister stops and furrows her eyebrows. She didn’t say anything but Dream knew. “When I was captured, Cupid visited me three times. She was the one who helped free me.” He explains to her then lets the arrow form on his hand. “She left me this. Lucifer placed my soulmate as a betting card before even I knew I had one.”  

Death takes the arrow from him, she too can’t read it. “Cupid, she’s one of Desire’s creatures. Why haven’t you gone to her? See who’s names are on this?” Morpheus doesn’t say anything. His eyes tell it all, that and his reluctance to speak. She rolls her eyes at him, then continues walking on her mission.  

“I wanted to wait until I had all my tools back and now I’m more powerful than ever and yet...” He trails off, is that why he was feeding the pigeons? Waiting for the right moment to go and see her? What if she’s been harmed by Desire? Clearly not, he just saw her, doing well. 

“You’re not scared of Desire, you went to hell with only your sand. It’s something more...” She trails off inspecting each of his reactions. “You are more scared of her. Or rather that it might be true.” Dream scoffs at this. “Just think of the power a soulmate could have over an Endless. If I accept this, anyone could hold her over me.”  

She sighs and shakes her head. “You have one friend, Dream. Maybe this isn’t as bad as you think it’s going to be?” Again Morpheus refuses to speak. “She’s just too pure. Have you seen her before? She has this glowing semblance surrounding for. It...seemed to stop time. And these eyes that just... holds all the pureness in the world. Could you imagine something so... innocent? No malice, no harm, no intent for revenge.”  

“What? Are you scared you’ll taint her with your broodiness?” She chuckles at him. “I’ve had past lovers and none of them...wanted this life forever. Something always goes wrong and I don’t want for it to be the same this time.” He thinks over each word he speaks. When did his heart become this attached to this girl? 

She glances over her idiotic brother. Brothers never know anything about anyone. “Who says it will? Think about it, your previous lovers didn’t work out because they weren’t meant to. You had a soulmate, this time it will work.” They continue down the path, winding back to the park.  

“I cannot force this to happen. Love me because you’re supposed to. I’d be just as bad as Desire, puppeteering her for my lonely heart just as he had.” They slowly find back down to the park where the pigeons still wait for their bread.  

“It won’t be. If it’s meant to be, it won’t feel forced. I have one last appointment. Just try and see what happens?” Dream’s lips only slightly raise in a smile. “It seems I too have multiple missed appointments.”  

He watched her, from the corner of his eye he watched her every step of the way. She flew. Used the wings made for her for her and followed him all the way to Hob Gadling’s little Inn. She thought he couldn’t see her. But it’s strange it feels like she’s breathing down his neck either way.  

“There’s something watching you.” Hob says after a while, looking over Dream’s shoulder. Dream shivers, “I know I can feel her watching me.” He says, his back feels burnt with her glare. “Do you mind, Robert, if I cut this short, it seems there are some urgent matters to attend to.” The English teacher just smiles at him. “Go.”  

In one swift move, Dream stands up from his seat and grabs Cupid, right by the wrist. Like his body just knew where she’d be. “Cupid.” But something is wrong. There’s no reaction from her. She doesn’t pull back or gasp or speak. She just sort of stares at him, swaying on her feet. 

She looks right through him. Worst of all, her eyes they look dull. Her usual glittering brown is now more like dry dirt under your nail. There is no warm inviting pink aura coming from her. Looks like her, but nothing feels like her. She looks hollow, like a shell. Love looks entirely loveless. 

This isn’t Cupid.  

If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask!

Part 3~Part 5 (coming soon)

[randomwriteronline]

I wonder if the toa mata recognized themselves in their own memories from before mata nui.

I dont know, i think theres possibilities to be explored about that. Suddenly remembering yourself and what you find being a complete stranger is a common thing for amnesia plots i guess but also i think this could be even more jarring. Like a more genuine difference between killing machine and living being.

Its less a matter of nature vs nurture and more a matter of nature with a certain type of nurture. Nature dictates they are powerful and driven and well meaning, but the way they are brought up produces completely different people.

Their first taste of life was a sterile room with nobody but each other and a disembodied voice reading out their duties, establishing an arbitrary hierarchy within them, and then sending them to a glorified bootcamp where a ruthless instructor worked on making them into skilled combatants and nothing else, teaching them how to use their elements as tools and weapons without indulging in them; they got a vague sense of what and how a community feels like with the Av-Matoran - as outsiders, as its protective shield, there for them but not with them - only to get that stripped away from them too because their role as life saving tools to be preserved under glass just in case of a crisis was more important.

I wonder if the Toa Mata, the ones who were taken to the Koro of Mata Nui and listened to the Turaga's tales and reprimands and would have moved mountains for the Matoran who treated them like older siblings, return with their minds to things they said or thought or did from before the Island of Mata Nui and stop in their tracks. Whose memory is that, they think? That can't be mine. I am not like that. My siblings are not like that. Some things are perfectly right, they cant deny that; but just as many if not more are so wrong that they almost feel like a really cruel joke somebody planted into their heads.

Kopaka and Tahu got along, even if they dont want to admit it because they need to bicker like children or theyll die, but are more surprised that they werent as tentatively close with anybody else. Lewa remembers so much frustration and tedium and anger that if he stalls in his memories too much he genuinely starts feeling queasy, Pohatu has remnants of bitterness and passive aggression that still cling to him like the smell of a cigarette on someone who gave up smoking, and they both hate that because its nothing like them. Onua and Gali feel like theyre peering into some kind of imperfect clone's brain when they try to remember - its themselves, they know that, it has to be, but there are certain things they know about themelves that are just completely missing and its kind of dizzying to realize that.

Im not even sure they liked each other. They work together because its their destiny, but they don't seem to seek each other out for fun or anything else. In their training days they had to be shoved in each others direction or they would have never solved their obligatory group assignments.

I wonder if their terrors and flaws could partially come from this first life that they had too. Gali's fear of her anger and Lewa's disregard for duty stemming from Hydraxon's methods - she internalized his reprimands about feeling guilt for living enemies, but without any memory of him she believes the words resurfacing in her mind from time to time are her own, and is appalled by their cruelty; he was forbidden from enjoying himself, from indulging in any form of fun, of entertainment, of joy, and unconsciously now he rebels by shirking away from responsability to do whatever he wants.

The responses to Tahu's decision regarding the codrex haunt him, the whole situation, really; how he stripped his siblings of any say on their fate because he was the leader, not even telling them or explaining himself until they had no other choice, and if he could treat them like that once then what would stop him from doing so again and again until he doesnt even think about it? Kopaka is uneasy about it too. He knew the plan and supported Tahu only because he tagged along, but hes very, very acutely aware that he would have been left just as much in the dark as everybody else otherwise, and he would gave not even had anybody to seek any comfort from because hes fairly certain none of the others would have liked him enough to care.

Onua as @cantankerouscanuck pointed out to me mightve taken Hydraxon's teachings to heart, hence why he's so quiet: no use in expressing weakness, right? But karda nui must have been hellish on his senses, with all that light - a tangible physical discomfort that would bleed out into an emotional one as he becomes conscious of how none of his siblings go through this, thus he must be damaged in some way, faulty, out of place, and so he seeks to be alone, digging himself away. And its not hard to imagine how Pohatu (who hasnt had the chance to grow into the affable, kind toa his siblings can always lean on when they need to yet) would become convinced of his uselessness within the team and seethe about it.

They arrive on Mata Nui as broken war machines with no clue who they even are and suddenly find nature and community and love, and in a moment theyre people.

I wonder if the environment helped. Being thrown upon a beach in the open air with nothing but a whole world that is so alien and yet feels so right beckoning them to come closer. Discovering their powers and their domains freely, immediately - first thing they did was dive into their respective elements without a second thought, naturally magnetized, taking after them like it was the simplest thing in the world, because they are the first toa, the first beings capable of harnessing these powers in their whole universe, and its in their nature to be so connected to them. Maybe it helped. Maybe it made them feel connected to their own selves enough to figure themselves out in a way they couldnt have done so before.

Maybe it helped to find out their collective destiny each on their own, in their own environment, at their own pace, surrounded by younger siblings who look at them with awe and curiosity and frustration sometimes, guided by people who know how being alive works with all its good parts and messy bits and who can tell what having so much power means when youre barely aware of how to use it or what to do. And maybe it helped to find out who their siblings were in a similar way, introducing themselves as they wanted, as they felt like, without a specific order, and learning to recognize each other as siblings with all the things that make them insufferable and all the things that make them the best and what makes them happy and what makes them angry and how they sound when theyre worried and how likely they are to chase you down to the other edge of the island for doing something stupid, and like real people they grow and develop and change and stay the same, and then they meet the memory of themselves from before becoming people and its...

Idk. Its like the realization of who they used to be and the distance between themselves and those selves, and the fact that they dont like them.

[ugh-yoongi]

Jewel, I know your requests are closed but I desperately need to hear your thoughts on who in BTS would do this: https://www.tumblr.com/writing-prompt-s/739417828719034368/you-a-powerful-demoness-have-just-been-summoned

and why is it Namjoon (the potential for crack with this 148 IQ man who is also way more innocent than we think acc to one park jimin just takes me out)

i'm so sorry it took me so long to finish and post this but thank you so much for sending it bc i have been cackling about this scenario ever since.

the prompt: you, a powerful demoness, have just been summoned to earth. this man, this human, wants you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a few days so his parents will get off his back about it.

the gang summons a demon

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: supernatural au; crack warnings: reader is a demon and engages in demon behavior, swearing, namjoon makes mention of not being straight, heteronormative parental expectations, jk learns about arcane things on tumblr (which is not an original idea; i read a fic ages ago where taekook are tumblr witches but i cannot find it, so credit to that author or whoever came up with it first), unedited so any mistakes are mine. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 2k

It’s been years since you’ve been to Earth—even longer since you’ve been to South Korea.

“I haven’t been here since 1910,” you say, staring at the gobsmacked man across from you. He’s tall, with tanned skin and a bleached buzz cut; a smattering of tattoos dotting his toned arms—whites and rich hues of blue, imitations of some kind of ceramic art, you think; a golden hoop through his nose; cheeks with dimples so deep you’re sure they’ll crater. “People here definitely didn’t look like you back then, so I’m going to assume we’re pretty far into the future.”

“It’s 2024,” he answers, seemingly still a little dazed. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, jaw dropped. Normally it’s nice to be looked at like that, with all the reverence and awe you deserve, but Earth is not your favorite place to be. Doesn’t even crack the top fifty, if you’re being honest. “Did you say 1910? As in the beginning of the—”

You sigh. “Uh-huh. Hey, if you wouldn’t mind hurrying this up, I’ve got things to do.” The man continues staring. Could be a trick of the light, but you think he’s turning paler by the second.

Minutes tick by. Nothing but silence.

“Are you even listening to me?” you snarl, quickly losing patience you were never given. “I said I’ve got shit to do. My schedule’s booked solid for the next eight centuries, so I really don’t have time to be dilly-dallying in mundane human affairs. Your problems are always so boring.”

More silence.

Which is irksome, sure, but what’s worse is this stupid fucking circle you’re trapped in. Drawn crudely on the floor of (seemingly) this human man’s actual apartment, which would’ve told you all you’d needed to know, if you’d taken ten seconds to take in your surroundings upon first being summoned. This place has got books stacked floor to ceiling in every available inch of space, but you’re certain this person is a fucking idiot.

“Hello?”

The man shakes his head. “Oh, sorry, I just—I’m Namjoon? Kim Namjoon.”

“I don’t care.”

“Right, right.” He sucks in a deep breath. “Well, you’re probably wondering why I summoned you here today”—you roll your eyes—“and, uh.” Namjoon scratches at the back of his neck, anxiety oozing from every pore on his body. Definitely paler. “I am too, to be honest.”

“You what—”

“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon hurriedly adds, all of that anxiety shifting quickly into pure panic. “It’s just—it was a joke! Mostly! Jeongguk said it as a joke, because everything he says is a joke, and I should’ve known that, but—I don’t know! I’ve tried everything else, and the longer its gone on the more desperate I’ve become, and suddenly what Jeongguk said as a joke didn’t sound so much like a joke anymore! I’m sorry! I didn’t think it’d actually work!”

It takes your brain a minute to translate and decipher the useless slush that just came out of his mouth, but when it does… oh, when it does, you feel absolutely murderous. “You summoned me as a joke?”

Namjoon must see it, too. There’s no way you’re looking cool, calm, and collected right now, because you’ve seen the faces of others that have witnessed your wrath, and they were almost always on the brink of (if not outright) shitting their pants. This stupid, clueless human in front of you doesn’t appear to be faring much better.

So you continue, just to watch him squirm. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Um,” comes his brilliant response. “Yes?”

“And who am I?”

He holds up his pointer finger and digs through the back pocket of his jeans. Pulls out a crumbled scrap of paper, nearly soiled from ass sweat and time, and his eyes squint as he tries to read it. “I—well, it’s probably not an accurate translation, you know, since—”

“What does that piece of parchment say, Kim Namjoon?”

“Nothing,” he lies. “I can’t read it anyway, so… a-haaa…”

Patience officially worn thin, you snap your fingers, delighting in the startled shriek that escapes him as the paper goes up in a plume of smoke. “I am going to give you one chance to be honest with me,” you explain slowly, leveling him with a look. “Who do you think I am, and why am I here?”

Namjoon pales further. Looks like he’s trying to melt right through the floor into a puddle of useless slush, and you’d be more than willing to speed up the process if it weren’t for this god forsaken demon trap.

“Can I—can I sit down for this?”

Kim Namjoon, you learn, has a friend named Jeon Jeongguk.

Jeon Jeongguk, you also come to learn, has learned magic from a website called Tumblr.

“There, uh. There are definitely blogs for that sort of thing,” Namjoon explains, tattooed fingers scratching at the back of his neck. He takes a very quick glance at you. “Clearly not very accurate ones.”

You hum. “That’s the only smart thing I’ve heard you say since I showed up in this shithole.”

Namjoon gawks. “Hey, my apartment isn’t a shithole! It’s the best I could afford, alright? There was just an article in The Business Times about how archaic of a system jeonse is—”

“Uh-huh. And this… website?”

Namjoon goes red. Coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, yeah. I’m gonna be honest with you—”

“I already said that—”

“—my parents are coming to visit from Ilsan in a few days and I need a girlfriend.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. Long enough to replace the rug that had been pulled from under you, because you’re pretty sure you heard this human man allude to having summoned you so you can pretend to be his girlfriend.

All things considered, you’re impressed by how calm you are. This is not a trait most demons have, you especially, and it makes you nostalgic for the days you used to rip men apart limb by limb for less.

“Are you insane?” you ask simply.

“In my defense,” he explains around a wince, “Jeongguk said it was a love spell.”

“A love spell.” Namjoon nods. “And you wound up summoning a demon.”

“It… appears I may have done that, yes.”

“And you want a demon to meet your parents?”

“I mean… when in Rome, right?”

“I’ve committed at least four-hundred and sixty-seven separate atrocities there, so no, probably not when in Rome.”

Namjoon’s jaw drops. He tucks his knees closer to his chest. “Christ, that’s a lot. How did you have the time?”

“I’m immortal,” you deadpan.

“Right, right. Anyway, to answer your question: yes.”

Your eyes narrow. “How bad are your parents that you’d want me to meet them?”

“They’re fine, mostly. I just… am not what they expected in a son? Like, I have the hair and the tattoos and I dropped out of my engineering program in university to pursue art and poetry, so the least I could do is find a wife and settle down and give them grandchildren, but I don’t even know if I want to ever settle down. I’m also not… heterosexual? Entirely? Do you see that a lot—”

You sigh. “Misconception. Not to launch you into some kind of existential crisis, but the gods really don’t give a shit who you humans sleep with.”

“Gods? As in plural?” You snap your fingers. Namjoon’s fingers immediately go to his temples. “Damn, I have a really bad migraine all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, that was me.”

“What’d you do?”

“Made you forget something.”

“Oh. What’d I forget?” It takes a second. “Oh, right, yeah. Um. What was the last thing I said?”

“Your parents wanted you to be an engineer and have a ton of kids but you like art and also not-women, sometimes.”

He flushes again. “I—yes.”

You sigh, arms crossed over your chest. All you want to do is sit down, or open a window. This apartment smells far too strongly of patchouli. “Look, I haven’t been to this place in a long time, but surely you aren’t undesirable by your society’s standards.”

“Are you saying I’m attractive?”

You scowl. “No. I’m saying there had to have been easier ways of doing this, and also can you open a window?”

“It’s February.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“It’s really cold outside.”

“I’m literally from Hell. Go put on a sweater, then.”

With a roll of his eyes, Namjoon stands and moves to the window. Cracks it open a millimeter, just enough for the cold to seep in, before he’s stalking off toward—you’re assuming—his bedroom. You think he’s shoving a garment over his head when he calls out, “You know, you’re really fucking bossy for someone stuck in a trap.”

You vow to kill him as soon as you’re free.

It isn’t often you’re held hostage.

Usually you can spot a trick coming a thousand miles away, but since Namjoon hadn’t meant to summon you at all, you’d been caught unawares. Doomed to be stuck in a demon trap, just like he’d said, which meant you didn’t have a ton of bargaining power.

At least that’s what you’re telling yourself, because as you sit across from Namjoon’s parents at some fancy restaurant, you aren’t convinced he isn’t a crossroads demon himself.

“So,” his mother begins, turning her attention to you, “what do you do for work?”

Namjoon elbows you beneath the table, giving you a silent warning to stick to the script. You’re only here under threat of force—because Jeongguk had stopped by Namjoon’s apartment, saw you in the summoning circle, and nearly fainted before going back to Tumblr to find a binding spell.

Except that one wasn’t great, either, because it only bound you and Namjoon together for three days instead of forever. And, as penance for all the chaos you’ve sown across the universe, Namjoon’s parents’ visit fell within that time frame, so here you are.

Out to dinner. With humans.

You’re pretending to be someone’s girlfriend.

You’re in for the most embarrassing ribbing of your existence once you’re home.

“I work with idols,” you respond, as convincingly as possible, because Namjoon had thought it’d be really funny. Get it? he’d said. Like false idols? You hadn’t laughed. “It’s very secretive, of course, but—”

You don’t finish your thought, because Namjoon’s mother looks delighted: face lit up with mirth, smile blinding, eyes half-lidded under the weight of her happiness. “Oh, how exciting! Has he told you he used to do performances to old H.O.T songs? Namjoonie, what was that one song you liked—”

“Eomma, please—”

“Wasn’t it ‘Candy’?” Namjoon’s dad offers from behind his menu. It’s the first thing he’s said all evening.

Namjoon whimpers, foregoing all social decorum and lectures on posture to sink further in his chair.

You do not, under any circumstances, feel a hint of fondness.

(Which dissipates not even twenty-four hours later.

“The blog was deleted,” Jeongguk says, eyes wide as saucers. “I—the blog is gone, I don’t know how to—”

“What do you mean the blog is gone?” The poor kid is overcome with panic and fear, tries to stutter out a response that makes no sense to you at all through his sobs. “Jeon Jeongguk, what do you mean the blog is gone?”

“I—it’s—I had it bookmarked, I swear! Once the binding spell wore off I was gonna send it to Namjoon hyung so he could send you back, but the blog is gone so the post is gone, too. I don’t—what do I even search for—oh my god, please don’t kill me, I think I’m having a panic attack, I’m gonna—”

And then this human man vomits all over your feet. Namjoon sighs as he goes to fetch a bucket, and you think it’ll be a miracle if any of these people—yourself included—live to see the end of the week.)

[p0rk-guts]

waitt but what's different about your ocified velvette... i like her a little but find myself wanting more substance from her in canon tbh

TEEHEE WHAT A GOOD QUESTION I TOTALLY DIDN'T SET PPL UP TO ASK ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay sew me and @ajistorpid were talking and they inspired a good chunk of my ideas so you can blame them for feeding my sick delusions.

Read more just like last time bc I talk too much sorry but there's art in there too oooo you should look u should read my ramblings

As far as I know, Velvette has no canon age at death, cause of death, or death date so based on what we know we just crafted our own headcanons. AJ proposed she might've had parents who ran one of those family vlog channels with her as the face of it, becoming a child influencer under her parents' control. I was thinking she could've been a child model- yk like. dance moms or something. Idk I don't remember what was happening on that show— anyways. Yea

Either way she grew up constantly controled and perfection was her standard. All of her outside thoughts and feelings and interests and opinions were constantly dismissed in favor of what made her more marketable. She never did get that popular in life tho, and her mentors always shamed and blamed her for it.

Idk if this is canon or not, but the idea of the sinners designs reflecting their vices or things they regreted or hated in life is an untapped gold mine to me so that could explain where Velvette's supposed doll and clown themes come from. Became a toy dressed up and paraded around for the entertainment of others + joke never taken seriously. She'd hate that

(As for how that ties into my redesign…. me and AJ were thinking she could be a vampire doll, but I'm not sure IDK I wanna sketch that out and see what it's giving)

In hell she easilly fell back into this warped facsimile of her old life bc it was all she knew. "she feels some form of pseudo control and enjoyment because she has no one pulling her strings now" (<-AJ) SHE'S running things!!! Who's the puppet now!!!!!!

Then THAT had me thinking too because now that I think about it. Why Is she the backbone of the V's?? She's like. An undergrad student in my mind at the MOST and Vox and Val are two men pushing 40 I'm sure. I think a big part of it is the fact that those two are almost complete and utter buffoons who let their emotions cloud their actions constantly, Valentino most obviously but even tho Vox seems more composed like when he's talking Val down from his outburst and when he was talking to the press, we can still see he's a total mess—especially where Alastor is concerned. He lost it so bad during their duet HE SHORTED PENTAGRAM CITY'S POWER.

Now out of all the V's we've seen the least of Velvette (I'd call it what it is but yall gon get real mad at me), The most we really got out of her character was the overlord meeting (and despite her huge ego and unruly behavior she did end up speaking facts), so maybe she Is just as unstable as them in canon but canon is SHIT and this isn't about canon anymore. In my mind she's very much in charge of the back end of their work. Vox is obviously the head of the operation—or at least he seems like it to me—what with the tech company having his name and with him answering the interviews, but I think that's all he is. The figure head. Velvette is the brain behind it all. When Vox proposes new buisness endeavors off the cuff she's the one who goes back and makes sure they're getting handled properly because he doesn't really dig into the backend of how things happen. Vox goes to most of the conferences or whatever (Vel's too busy running her shows and serving cunt after all) but Vel follows up on what was learned.

(also yeah all that makes this very much an au of an au bc it'd take a lot of radical changes for the two of them to be friends I think. It's fun to imagine anyway)

Quoting AJ here bc I'm bad at paraphrasing and they said it well:

"And if we're going to make her sympathetic, (obviously not excusing her enabling a rapist) Val and Vox are grown ass men and she never got to experience the world outside a camera

Velvette is easily malleable with no real relationships!! Some victims tend to gravitate towards people who are similar to their abusers the only exception is that she feels like she has control this time"

THIS this. THIS! Okay uhh vague personal experience w/ abuse cw ig. skip this paragraph if you don't wanna hear it. But It kinda reminds me of my relationship with my parents- NOT THAT I SEE THEM AS TWO DADS AND A DAUGHTER I DO NOT BELIEVE IN THAT NOTION IN A POST PILOT WORLD If future content proves me wrong it proves me wrong but at this moment they're all equals in my mind (…and I hc them as poly BUT WE'LL GET THERE) but In my situation it's like. I hate my parents for the abuse they've caused me, my mom more than my dad bc she's satan incarnate, but there are still things I like about my dad and. Tolerate. About my mother. We still can talk cordialy and spend time together, have fun together even, and I show affection to them, but deep down I know I wanna cut my mom off later and maybe my dad too depending. Additionally my mom is completely Incompatent and pulls none of her weight so despite it all I've been forced to pick up the slack and become half the brains of this family. I do chores she should take care of. Handle money. Make important decisions about our health and safety she doesn't care about.

AAAny ways. This is so my version of Velvette. No I'm not projecting (I am). She pulls a big chunk of the weight around there (some of it being carried by Vox and virtually none by Val). She's very close with the two of them but isn't a fan of everything they do (Cares more for Vox than Val in my mind). Speaking of, she definitely isn't some saint now, she still makes the love potions and is Impassive to both Val and Vox's behavior, but part of that Is her just seeing it as part of the business. Shady practices and exploitation are par for the course in any business to her. She never truly grew out of the harmful mindsets ingrained into her by whoever her enabling caretakers were in life and they're still apparent in hell. (Maybe she even experienced some of the darker sides of exploitation in life but was groomed into thinking it was okay contributing to why she doesn't see Valentino's actions as heinous. Idk. thinking on it)

Circling back to my poly V's idea. Idk it just seems plausible to me. Vox and Val already have their whole thing going on, they all live together, and they all have nicknames for each other (Vox calling her my dear, Val calling her baby doll, Vel calling Vox darling). Ik that could just be their personalities and the pet names don't have to mean anything more but this is MY au and my word is gospel hope this helps. It just makes sense

I could go on and ON about the toxic insanity of the Poly V's in my mind— particularly between Vox and Valentino— but this is NOT their post so maybe next time. As for Velvette, I get the vibe that she'd be intimate with both of them and enjoy it but she's never the one to initiate anything. Sometimes they're all like this 🤞🏾 and others the boys are a complete turn off to her (main example being the difference in her attitude towards Vox in episode 3 vs episode 8). Her tolerance of them flips on a dime depending on how they're acting. She also prefers to be a casually entertained observer to VoxVal more often then not (ex. end of episode 8 imo)

Boys aside. My Velvette is still a social media influencer and she's all about advertising. advertising products (like the love potion), clothing looks, technology... Heck even herself. "You're nobody if you don't wear this or use this or look like this ^ - ^". Projecting on her even further by making her have a love/hate relationship with her profession aka the modeling aspect of it: she's always had a genuine love for fashion and dressing up but the internal pressure for perfection she's placed on herself makes it hard for her. She's very hard on her models and designers bc of this

Couldn't think of a segway for this but also WHAT HAPPENED TO VELVETTE WANTING TO FIGHT THE ANGELS??? The "full assault plan" against the angels??? And then when the fight actually came they were all just lounging around watching it go down like it was afternoon tv????? This isn't even a "we'll get to it in season 2" thing did they honest to god forget? Did that line not mean anything??

Well I didn't forget and it's pissed me off since my first rewatch of that meeting scene. Don't think we don't know how the V's got the angel head, but In my head Velvette was the one who initially proposed the idea for an assault against heaven and her insatiable need to feel respected and feared only spurred this plan on, incredible risk be damned.

It also felt weird to me that Velvette just. Let it go when Carmilla said the meeting was over. Just. "Oh ok! Plan cancelled no more attacking heaven ^ - ^ I'm gonna go scroll for the rest of the show!" Hu h. My au-ified Velvette would definitely fight her on it— if she thought killing angels would change the game and Carmilla held the secrets behind it she would pry! Blow up at her about it until she wasn't getting results and bitterly storming off with as much composure as she could muster. Not wanting to team up with Carmilla but find some way to use her for all she was worth and get her way in the end, use the power and resources the V's had to actually make a plan. Would it have worked without the Morningstars? Eh. Either way I'm sure she could delude herself into thinking they were the most powerful people in hell. Ugh I don't wanna make an au rewrite of the show and I that was never my plan so idk where that'd go but. Yea

ANYWAYS anyways. wow you made it to the end somehow! Here's your treat :3

Context u didn't ask for: Some days Velvette overwhelms herself with her own impossible expectations. Nothing she creates or puts out is good enough. She gets extra anxious about her following; nothing's happened to them, but what if they see the miniscule flaw in her latest clothing that she sees? What if she's no longer perfect? (Even worse in the vamp Velvette redesign of her bc she literally feeds off their attention and admiration)

She'll snap at everyone and disapprove of every look and then hole herself away somewhere where she crashes and is just. So. Tired. But she'll be out of it the next day, ready to keep the conveyor rolling.

[bubuslutty]

MIKE WITH A PISS KINK PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

tbh I've never really wrote for piss kink before the other post. but I'm exploring and dipping my toes very slowly into stuff (am I being slow? idk? anyway. who fucking cares.)

Mike is a nasty little freak and nobody can convince me otherwise. he likes having some power over at least certain aspects of his life, he likes being in control of things he chooses to control. not like paying the bills and going to work. cuz he has to? to live?

but he can have control over his gf. her body. her bladder. Just because he can.

so when he first was plagued with the image of his gf just pissing on him, his brain chemistry changed and he kind of wanted to make it a reality, trying without freaking his gf out and also without really telling her.

maybe it was him convincing her to let him fuck her when he knew she drank a bit too much water today and felt like going on the middle of him fucking her. maybe he'll let her go, maybe not, maybe he'll ask her to hold it in until he's done, she can wait, right? She can do it, she's a big girl <3

and maybe he'll hold onto her waist, dig his fingers super close to her belly button, press down a bit where her bladder should be in guise of him just holding her up, but really, he just loves her little squeals of panic and flinches, and not once does she tells him to stop, just whines and whines and moans while getting rocked on his cock.

And as soon as he's done and at this point, his baby is shaking and overwhelmed, he'll help her to the toilet, and help her sit and relieve herself while she's still. panting. and he's there, standing over her with a hand on her shoulder, so she wouldn't somehow slip and fall?

he's just a good bf after all, he has to make sure his gf is safe and taken care of <3

and then obviously Mike will take care of her, hop in the shower, wash her body for her and all, dress her up in some comfy clothes and lounge in their bed together <3

perhaps this keeps happening for a long time, his gf needs to go, but he needs her more than she needs to go, and how can she say no to those eyes??? and the cycle repeats until she realises that maybe he really, really, want her to let go.

So it happens then, for the first time, while in the shower, because its the perfect place to make a mess, and it starts off pretty innocent, just showering in silence, together, then washing each other's hair, giggling and slowly getting touchy until her back is to the wall and he's moaning in her neck with the sound of his hips snapping against hers echo in the shower.

And she doesn't tell him she needs to go, she just holds him tighter, wraps her arms around his neck and presses herself closer, he moans, and then he feels something, he's confused at first, terrified that he somehow hurt her because why the fuck is something hot dripping down her thighs, and when the smell hits his nose he absolutely loses it.

"Hah- Had to go, hm? Couldn't hold it in? Hm, baby? Fucked you so good you just-- Pissed yourself? Fuuuuuuuuuccckkk... Yeah. Yeah, you're mine. And I'm yours, yeah?"

his eyes almost roll to the back of his headand his rythm stutters and he snaps them harder, tries to get himself deeper, closer, all the while making the most debauched and pathetic noises he's ever made, he's so unbelievably horny he cums in no time.

and from that day on, everything changes.

[katyawriteswhump]

The power of love, part 5 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Eddie POV

Robin spreads out a map they’d taken from the Harringtons across the blanket on Steve’s bed. She points to their current location. 

“So, this is us. We’re away from the road but still waaay too screaming-in-your-face easy to find.” She slides her finger a few inches across the map. “This old loggers’ camp is deep in the forest and could be the perfect place to hide. However, it’s over seven miles and we might have to hike, if the track is broken up. Steve? What do you say?”

“What am I supposed to say, Robin?” Steve sits up against the pillows, arms folded. “Let’s get going.”

“It’s a loooong way for you, if we can’t drive, man,” says Eddie.

“I’m good. Jesus! Hiking is in her top ten least favourite pass times. Not mine.” Steve throws off the covers, pushes himself up. He repels Eddie’s attempt to help with a jab of his elbow then leans heavily on the wall. “When do we start?”

“Hold your horses, cowboy.” Eddie cranes over the map. “My beloved Pa had a few hideouts round this way—”

“Yeah, they must’ve been totally undiscoverable,” snarks Steve, “what with Al Munson being FOREVER IN JAIL.”

“If you’re feeling so much better, Dingus, THEN STOP BEING A BITCH.” That was Robin, now matching Steve’s glare. “Go on, Eddie. What’s your plan?”

They strike out for the logging camp that afternoon, planning to break their journey in a cave, which Eddie’s Pops had used a couple of times. They drive the first part of the trail, then set off on foot when the track gets too uneven for the Lincoln’s tyres. Most of the trail is uphill through forest. Steve, however, refuses any help, and insists on taking his share of supplies.

He says very little, walking close to Robin. She wavers between cajoling him into taking breaks, and an encouraging monologue. Eddie goes ahead, using a compass and some basic tracking skills Wayne taught him, while squinting at the hazy sun. And, obviously, he seeks the easiest path for Steve.

“You know I suck at directions, right?” he whispers to Robin, while Steve takes a ‘moment,’ sitting down. “Though I’m gonna blame Vecna—and the matter that Hawkins is now one big, fiery Upside Down doormat—for blowing the compass off.”

She bats a bug from her nose. “Ugh! If it’s any consolation, trail finding was never exactly my number one skill, either.”

“How about Captain America over there?”

“He literally never knows his left from his right.” Eddie’s rarely seen anything more loving than the look she casts Steve’s way. “I think it’s gotten harder for him. He’s had... uh, quite a few blows to the head in recent years. Never seen him like this before. I’m worried, Eddie.”

“Me too.” Eddie swipes hair from his brow, finding it slick with sweat. “Talking of Vecna-skewed compasses and Vecna in general. Should we also worry about his crazy-ass cravings for Lover’s Lake?”

“At this juncture, I’m hoping it’s all some kind of freaky coincidence.” She actually closes her eyes, as if offering up a silent prayer. “I mean, even when he’s outta his mind, Steve really, really loves swimming. On the other hand, if going near the lake actually made Steve better, and that’s why he healed so quick after his initial bat attack, then… then…  Oh shit, I don’t even want to say it.”

Their gazes lock, and Eddie knows they’re brain sharing: There’s a gate to the Upside Down in Lover’s Lake. If Steve’s somehow linked to it some evil-magic-juju fashion, then… 

“You don’t seriously think he’s flayed?” Eddie little more than mouths the words.

Robin slices up a forbidding hand, so fast Eddie fliches. “No. Not that. He can’t be. Vecna isn’t in his head—he’d tell us, right? I mean, there could be a more physical link to the Upside Down and the hive mind, like with Will at various stages, but… No, no, no. We’re catastrophising, huh?”

Eddie nods keenly, which does little to dispel his unease. On the other hand, Robin is right. Nothing about Steve’s behaviour is shouting “flayed” or whatever. Including the teeny, tiny matter of Steve bringing Eddie back from extinction, though that remains totally unexplained. Yeah, it could be simply because death happens differently in the Upside Down.

Steve hauls himself up, hugging a tree. “What we waiting for? Bears to come bite our sorry butts?”

“There are bears out here?” Robin squeaks.

“He’s kidding,” mutters Eddie. At least, Eddie hopes he is. Steve still looks dead grumpy and serious.

They make the caves by sunset. They’ve got flashlights, and Eddie and Robin could’ve pressed on through the night, but Steve blatantly can’t. As soon as they arrive, he slumps down against the rockface, curls his legs up. He presses his face to his knees and rocks himself gently.

“You sure you’re all right?” asks Eddie.

“Next person who asks me that gets punched.”

Ooookay. No change in Steve’s mood then. Robin reassures herself there are no bear scratches in the cave then heads out to scout the route for the next morning. Eddie starts unpacking the bedding and cereal.

The air in the cave is cool and thick with damp. Eddie kinda likes it anyhow. Amid the must and mould, he inhales the faintest hint of charcoal. He pictures his Pa shacked up here, also on the run. He can’t help chuckle: I tried soooo hard not to follow in your footsteps. 

Steve, meanwhile, is huddling ever more tightly in on himself.

Eddie’s tempted to light a fire, as he imagines it gets cold in caves overnight, plus it’s still only April. However, he fears the smoke, if not the flames, could billow out of the narrow entrance and be spotted from miles around. Maybe that’s where you went wrong, Daddy dearest.

“You want a blanket?” ventures Eddie, sitting down next to Steve. Not quite touching, though. “Anything to eat? C’mon, dude. We all gotta keep our strength up.”

He taps the cereal packet against Steve’s arm, startling him into looking up. The torchlight heightens the shadows beneath Steve’s cheekbones, making him look horribly pale and gaunt. Kinda ghost-like, though Eddie stifles a gasp of shock for a different reason.

Steve Harrington is crying. Though trying his darndest not to—gritting his teeth, swiping the tell-tale moisture from his cheekbones. “God! I’m beyond pathetic. No wonder everyone thinks I’m a total dud.”

Cereal cast aside, Eddie squeezes Steve’s knee then retreats like the coward he is. “What are you on about? You’re, like, the most popular guy in town.”

Steve’s scowl is angry, incredulous and broken in equal measures. “Was, man. It was all a bunch of bull, and… totally irrelevant. I mean, haven’t you seen enough? We need to move, to keep moving, to evade capture, to get ready to fight Vecna again. I can barely walk.”

“Oookay, let’s rewind and be kind, Stevie.” He gets away with that sneaky pet-name again. “You’re feeling down because you’re… I dunno, sick, hurt, tired. Where do I begin? Fact is, you’re not a superhero man, you bleed and bruise like the rest of us lesser mortals… but you are a freakin’ hero.”

Steve’s brittle laugh breaks on a sob, against which he clamps his jaw even tighter. Eddie further musters his courage and slings an arm around Steve, who tenses. Then exhaustion wins. Steve sinks sideways against Eddie and rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Soon, Steve’s shuddering breaths even out. The weirdest thing is that, despite how cranky Steve’s been all afternoon, this closeness feels disarmingly natural. That said, in the past forty-eight hours, they’ve had little choice but to become… intimate. Even Eddie's fizzing nerves soon settle.

“One thing’s for sure,” says Eddie, at length. “I’m more jealous than ever. I mean, Henderson’s respect for you must’ve skyrocketed and it was excruciatingly stratospheric already. I’m just the goon you brought back from the dead.”

Steve sniffles, lifts his head from Eddie’s shoulder. “I didn’t do anything really, man. Basic CPR. I executed a move.”

“Yeeeah.” A silly grin tugs the edges of Eddie’s mouth. “With your lips, dude.” 

Steve smirks, and… Woah! Eddie spots something he’d wondered if he’d imagined several times. Including earlier, when Steve collapsed against him on the way back from the outhouse. 

That merest hint of… attraction? Of flirty fun? 

Just as Eddie decides he’s imagining it—again—that spark reaches Steve’s too-pretty, too-sad eyes, and he says: 

“That was kinda fresh of me.”

Eddie’s tongue flaps away before he can stop it: “Tell you one other thing for sure—if you'd asked permission to get all smoochey, for whatever reason, I'd have granted you a full-access backstage pass.” Then Eddie’s brain kicks in. “Aaaaaand, that was dumb. What with you being the straightest guy in the history of ever.” 

Steve’s sparkle vanishes, and he turns his face to the darkness. “Go to Hell! Why does everyone always make such massive assumptions about me?”

“You’re not straight? I mean, I assumed… You’re you. You’ve got girlie mag centerfolds in your room!”

“You’re judging me on that?” Steve ruffles his hair and groans, sounding more wearily upset than agitated. “Look, man, I’ve not changed my room since sophomore year. In case you’re missing any of the plot, I’ve had other crap going on.” 

“Yeah, but you and Wheeler! The way you look at her, and the way she looks at—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Steve sinks his forehead to his knees again. Nevertheless, Eddie’s arm is still around him, and he’s not shrugged it off.  What’s more, it seems he does want to talk, even if it’s rambling and kinda hard to follow: 

“I've been through stuff like this before, Eddie. Getting hurt and shit, hit so hard I black out and the doctors give me all these scary warnings. It’s weird, whenever I wake after being hurt, it feels as if loads of time has passed, even if it’s only been a few minutes. I always feel… shitty, of course, but also… a bit different. It’s confusing… Probably bullshit. It’s all bullshit.”

Different. 

Eddie’s heart gives a little squeeze, which he kinda despairs of. Not before he’s given Steve a small squeeze, too. “What kind of different?”

“I dunno. Like.... this time around, I'm not so into Nance. Or maybe feeling so crappy this past day has given even my thick head perspective, and I can see it’s hopeless. I mean, I figured I was in love with Robin once, when I “came back” from being knocked out, and, of course, I do love her but... not like that. She gets me… better than I do, I guess. Talk to her if you want anything about me to make sense.” He yawns. “I’m soooo tired, man.”

Soon, Steve’s sunk so deep against Eddie, his head is in Eddie’s lap. Eddie drags a blanket up over Steve, then finds himself tentatively stroking Steve’s hair. He’s unsure if Steve is asleep or not. Either way, Steve sighs, kinda melts beneath his touch. Wherever he’s drifted off to, it seems peaceful.

Eddie tries and fails not to think on how trippy this is: I got Steve ‘King of Hawkins High’ Harrington asleep in my lap, and he just snapped at me for suggesting he was straight. 

He also tries and fails not to worry about the whole Lover’s-Lake-giving-Steve-weird-juju issue. Steve just straight-up told him he’s been through near-death experiences before and come back different. Yeah, Eddie’s cheerleading for the GOOD variety of different. However, in Hawkins, and in life in general:

Odds are stacked in the favour of BAD different, Munson. As in FLAYED different.

No. He’s not going down that path. Robin would notice anything weird about Steve, and Steve’s not acting strange. He’s just… strangely sick, though it’s not that odd, really, after all he’s been through.

Yeah, right. And My Little Pony seahorses are gonna surf in on a tsunami of petals and save the day. 

Man, it sucks being such a cynic.

He doesn’t notice Robin slip back in until she’s nearly upon them. “You two got cosy, then,” she whispers.

“I got a creeping suspicion he’s gonna break my neck in the morning for this.”

She wiggles her brows. “Oh, I dunno. His bark is totally worse than his bite.”

“I can hear you, asshats,” mumbles Steve. Robin’s brows shoot sky high. “I don’t want to be sleeping on his bony knees, but some moron forgot to bring pillows.”

Eddie strokes Steve’s hair into that warm groove behind his ear, and finally discovers he’s too tired to worry about anything much at all.

Part Six

...

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far.

[gofancyninjaworld]

"It struggles but it still obeys" -- OPM webcomic chapter 150 review

Summary

The trap we've been waiting to see sprung has finally started to close. Everywhere we look, the triumphant Neo Heroes are stopping, stuttering, and freezing, their pupils fixed and dialated like a corpse's. Then, they move, reanimated to a new existence, one they have no control over. Only lucky individuals who've modified their suits in some way -- or had them broken -- have escaped. And as Accel, Puri Puri, and Amai Mask will testify, the new Neo Heroes attack former allies savagely on sight.

Elsewhere, we see Genos encounter 'Boros's' brain-dead corpse. It has been kept functional on life support in the second of Metal Knight's labs. Noting that the creature is an incredibly powerful one that can't be allowed to rampage. Genos nevertheless feels for it: it's being kept alive to fight. Like him. While Google Translate isn't the best, the translation it comes up with, of Genos saying that at least one of them should have an easy escape when he moves to kill 'Boros', really hits hard.

We see how clearly Genos sees the situation he's in. The rampaging cyborg screwed him out of his past and any social context. Dr Kuseno screwed him out of a future. And now Saitama, the lackadaisical, uncaring Saitama, has been screwing him out of any chance to salvage anything of value out of his situation. Damn straight he's angry.* And in a hurry. There better be a kindly deity willing to pour cooling water on Dr Bofoi's soul, for unless there's a miracle of understanding to stay Genos's hand, that soul is about to be parted from its body with flames so hot it'll arrive in the afterlife still on fire.

Speaking of the lackadaisical Saitama, he's been doing a good job of eliminating the robots wherever he's encountered them. Blue follows the trail of the storm of robot parts he's been flinging hither and thither and accidentally gets steam-rollered by Saitama. That's where the chapter ends.

When we'll continue, your guess is as good as mine.

Meta

Insects. That's all that people are worth to The Organization. It's been nearly three years since I first pointed out the difference between the cyborgs we'd been seeing to date to what the Neo Heroes were doing. I brought up this harrowing reality of using insects as cyborgs and forcing them to move according to an operator's instructions:

"It struggles but it still obeys," is what the lead scientist says. In the story, we see human beings living this reality. Raiden must have incredible willpower: despite everything, he's able to stutter a few words to Puri Puri, begging the latter to save him from his torment even as he rains blows down on the hero.

Link: https://www.reddit.com/r/OnePunchMan/comments/1agdu1y/translation_of_raidens_muttering_webcomic_spoiler/

For luckless souls who fall into the tender mercies of Erimin and Destro and their 'recovery' capsules, there's an even crueler fate waiting. I'll save that for another day. We'll find our way back to what's happening at Neo Hero HQ in time.

Yes, we the readers have been sitting on high being fed the answers to the evil behind the Neo Hero facade. We may not know who is ultimately responsible, and we may not yet know why, but we know a lot and a lot looks 'obvious' to us. However, the characters in the story can only discover the reality based on the evidence they actually have access to and what they already know/think. ONE is very strict on rules of evidence. If it's taken various individuals until now to start to know, it's not because they're stupid. Never think that, oh person given the answers from the back of the book.

The question is what are the individuals who have begun to understand what's happening going to do? They're all scattered in a deeply hostile and dangerous world -- and there isn't much time to do something before civilization is too broken and cowed to function.

That is, of course, the most urgent problem. Speaking of saving civilization, is the Hero Association going to be saved? But there are other urgent problems. Like, one cannot help but worry that Dr. Bofoi is the wrong target to eliminate. He surely deserves some karma but it may well be a gross miscarriage of justice. What's going to happen there? What's going to happen with 'Boros' (I'm not going to take away the quotations until the critter has a mind of his own again)? And really, who truly is behind all this and what do they want?

Tune in sometime in the future to find out.

Aside

*Yes, I have a lot more to say about this, but I need first to set the context to what I'm going to say. So look for additional meta. Nag me if I'm tardy!

[silverpelt3600]

Halo 2x7 Spoilers!

What’s up y’all we’re back with another series of my irrelevant and incomprehensible thoughts on this weeks episode!

- OOH! “There’s a difference, you’re human!” “Am I? Are you?” Woah! Easy there tiger that hurt his feelings.

- also the jump to seeing him not bloody feels so jarring, and then immediately back to him being beat up lol.

- YO! Didn’t expect Cortana to pop up immediately.

- good grief the whole “you train them I choose what to do with them”, careful girly you’ll show your true colors to your partner in crime!

- KAI! All my homies love Kai, shout out Kai. And lmao John “I didn’t ask for your help” like DUDE be so fr right now you’re not doing so hot.

- wow the condors getting taken out so fast, the look on Ackerman’s face. Like, it totally just set in for him how deep in shit he is with this whole operation.

- Soren’s flashbacks mixed in between scenes of the new Spartans. Great show of how nothings changed for the spartan program. And jeez, he wants to go back? Some real Stockholm shit.

- WHAT THE HELL KAI! “I made a mistake. Maybe you don’t know that but that’s what humans do.” Can everyone just take a CHILL with bullying John?! Good grief it’s like everyone’s go to when they’re upset with him is saying he’s not human.

- live laugh love John going sicko mode fr

- Also woah! Surprise with the spike! Not surprised that the crazy lady is crazy though! And “those Spartans are my life’s work” “I’ve heard that before” LMAOO bad word choice when talking to the angry spartan with trauma.

- THE ARMOR YEAHHHHHH!!!! Aw Vannak’s armor nooo

- “he wasn’t scared, just didn’t understand.” What if I cried. What if I started sobbing.

- also John’s “I’m the proof” hell yeah you are buddy what a power move

- starmap moment was cool. Halsey as usual charging head first and the two science brains just not having the perspective needed.

- Kai’s “they’re mine”, I love her she cares so much about both of her teams.

- good grief Halsey drives me NUTS with how tunnel visioned she is.

- damn Makee, alright girly that was maybe a bit much but I get it.

- alright Soren’s situation just got a lot more complicated!

- THE SUIT! HES IN THE SUIT! He’s so cool I love him. Also “what it would mean to me” from Perez just breaks my heart. And her humanizing him! When literally this episode has had multiple of the opposite!

- oh FUCK YEAH John just walking through the building like a badass. All those people stopping and looking at him! He knows how awesome he is

- Holy shit the Halo!

- and that’s it?? Omg the writers are killing me.

Alright y’all I hope that was somewhat coherent. This show drives me nuts with the cliff hangers but John truly has skyrocketed to the top of my list of favorite characters. Also he’s attractive, so that helps too lmao. Anyways season finale next week will probably kill me! :)

[figurativepieceoftrash]

Avid supporter of avoiding your wips.

Not sure if you have something you specifically want to write but Fiend!Aki has been rotting in my own drafts with no where to go

There were so many ways I could've interpreted this prompt and I'm almost 100% certain I did it wrong but here's an Asa/War spin on the Aki and Gun Devil situation, for, y'know, funsies

Sorry it took so long, I ended up procrastinating on this just like I do my wips, so y'know, obviously this exercise worked out super well :P

Here you go regardless <33

---

Aki doesn’t remember much about the incident.

The sound of gunshots. Scattered screams. A stinging, smokey smell thick in the air, as dense and inescapable as the aftermath of Obon. Cold metal smattered across his taste buds, rife with the selfsame rust-touched exigency as blood.

He’d been dreaming, or so Denji relates from the bedside of a maximum security hospital room. A dream he’s certain he could recall, if he wished to. He doesn’t.

Makima had called him lucky, as she’d studied him with those hypnotic, unblinking eyes. Unharmed, save a few noncommittally lingering scars. 

She’d dragged a slow, lazy finger across the red band of his upper arm, and his heart had raced thrice as swiftly in his chest. Said something about them having to reattach it in the ER, about Denji having done quite the number.

Aki hadn’t heard a thing. He’d been far too busy staring into those eyes. They’d lit something in the back of his brain, a sharp, nagging spark of recognition, persistent and enduring. It was only then he’d thought to ask after the Angel Devil, only then that he’d been certain the two were conversing, when it’d happened.

The spark in the barrel. The moment of ignition. The suckerpunch recoil.

Makima had just smiled. Pressed a smooth, gentle fingertip to Aki’s lips. Somehow, after that, the question didn't matter. It still doesn’t.

“You’re a very unique specimen, Aki,” Makima had noted, head cocked and eyes alight with dark curiosity, “can you tell me why the Gun Devil has taken such a keen interest in you?”

He’d tried not to flinch at the name. He’s still upset that he’d failed. “No. Just that I wish it hadn’t.”

The corners of her mouth had twitched at that. Such a minute movement, so human, but Aki had found an impression of intentionality in it, somehow. The careful, premeditated performance of organic vulnerability.

“You’d rather it left you to die?”

He’d thought of Power, then. Of Denji. No. 

The death count still rolling across the wall-mounted hospital television, the footage of a gun barrel protruding from his forehead, his brother, his parents, his commitment. Yes.

What he says is “maybe.”

She’d laughed at that, high and clear as a bell, and Aki isn’t even angry for it. He can’t be. It’s Makima.

“I’m glad,” she’d said, “that you’re mine.”

Aki couldn’t agree more. He just wishes the back of his brain would too. It’s still sounding off even now, muted as it is. Still doesn’t like the look of Makima, of her eyes.

Still thinks of Angel, even when Aki finds he can’t.

“This sucks.” Power’s complaints had been predictably ineloquent. “The apartment is trashed so I can’t see Meowy, this hospital is super boring, and Denji doesn’t even have enough cash to buy me stuff from the vending machine. I’m hunggggryyyyy!”

She wasn’t trying to be insensitive, Aki knew. If things had been difficult for her after their run in with the Darkness Devil, they were even more difficult now that she’d seen one of the few enduring constants in her life behave unpredictably. Dangerously. Lethally.

He’d almost killed Denji. Several times he’d almost killed Denji. So he’d offered her an arm.

“Here. Only take a little. If you bite too hard I’ll knee you in the stomach.”

She’d been quick to accept the offer and even quicker to disregard the warning, needle-sharp teeth breaking over his skin and digging straight into sensitive nerves. He’d forced himself to take his eyes off the river of stray blood that slid down his bicep. It resurfaced too many memories. Memories of gunshots and screams, smoke and metal.

“Yuck!” The exclamation had taken him completely by surprise. Doubly so when Power had withdrawn to spit the contents of her mouth down the front of his hospital gown. “Fiend blood can be so gross. This stuff tastes like steel.”

“Thanks,” he’d muttered darkly, thoughts turning over the heart of her complaint as he’d risen to visit the bathroom. 

Fiend blood. 

It was the first time anyone had said it aloud, in those terms. He's fine with amalgam. With anomaly. Even threat is alright, considering that it is, for all intents and purposes, accurate.

And the fact that it, like its equally vague, shapeless peers, places distance between Aki and the thing he's become. A thin wall of uncertainty to shield the was from the is. The familiar from the unthinkable.

Aki always thought he hated false comforts. Now, he's beginning to suspect he'd just never been introduced to a truth worthy of delusion.

It visits him sometimes, the Gun Devil, always in the dead of night and always terribly, gut-wrenchingly accusatory. Vaguely translucent, it positions itself in the corner of his room and stays there. Mute. Gleaming. Inhumanely still.

Power and Denji can't see it, of course, which means that one way or another, it resides in Aki’s head. This should be comforting, according to Makima, the fact that the Gun Devil is contained, and better, under control of the Japanese government.

There's no real control to this though, Aki thinks, the strange pseudo-peace between himself and the time bomb ticking within the fragile confines of his skull. Just the illusion of it.

He doesn't recall anything leading up to the inciting incident. Doesn't know how he died or what allowed the devil to take control. Why it lost it, following his concussion. When it might try its luck again.

This is why Aki has been forced to reside in the Commission’s headquarters, subject to intrusive levels of surveillance and constant physical surveys. Partial host autonomy isn't unheard of, in the case of fiends, but it is exceedingly rare, especially regarding beings of the Gun Devil's caliber.

Aki imagines he can't be as singular as Denji, but then again, Denji isn't quite so unpredictable. The Gun Devil can't be sated by the promise of simple pleasure, can't be reasoned with, or even communicated with, to Aki’s most meticulous observation.

It's as thoughtless as it is brutal, the epitome of action without thought. Maybe this is because it's technically incomplete, or maybe it's because the concept it represents is ultimately more tool than perpetrator. Aki can't say.

Can't force himself to care, either.

He glares at the thing when it shows its presence, hurling the occasional obscenity in the case that he's certain of his own seclusion. Nothing impacts it though, not really. It just stares, and stares, and stares.

Makima’s visits are sporadic at first, cursory and seemingly meaningless, but they grow with time, both in consistency and purpose. Oddly enough, most of her inquiries don't relate to Aki’s condition. They relate to Denji.

“Is he progressing socially with the staff?”

“How attached would you say he is to his new accommodations?”

“Is he happy?”

Aki doesn't question Makima's seeming obsession–in all honesty, he suspects he couldn't if he wanted to. He just nods along or shakes his head as required, answering swiftly and candidly as he's able.

Giving Makima the things she wants is second nature, simpler and more automatic than breathing. He never thinks to question it, if he even thinks at all.

The Gun Devil appears sometimes, just after she leaves the room. These are the only occasions in which it seems to display agency, or at the very least, some degree of behavioral variation. Because then, it doesn't stare at Aki. It stares at the door.

It stares after Makima.

“Does the Chainsaw Devil ever do that?” He can't help but ask over a tray of bland hospital food. Power and Denji already swiped up everything with flavor. “Manifest visually?”

“Like, can I see him? Nah.” Denji frowns, the expression oddly melancholic. “Wish I could, though.”

And Aki is just as lost as ever.

The doctors tell him his vitals are normal. That his brainwaves are consistent. Obviously his head isn't a gun.

“You can't transform at will?” One asks, eyebrow raised. “That's unusual, based on what we've observed.”

Aki just shrugs. What about his situation isn't?

He gets the impression that the commission is dissatisfied with his lack of control over the Gun Devil, presumably because it means they can't effectively employ it.

“We've lost more than we've gained here,” one surveyor whispers to another when they think he's asleep, though he isn't quite lucid enough to catch the rest of it. He does think on though, at least until Makima returns and his mind, once again, goes numb.

Things are consistent, for a good while. Predictable. Almost comfortable, if he ignores his midnight visitor. Power finds a hobby in harassing the hallway guards. Aki learns the weekly rotation schedule of his doctors. Denji is relaxed again. Contented, just like Makima seems to desire.

And Aki, too, is happy. Until one night, without warning or prior fanfare, something changes.

It's dark outside, far past one in the morning, and silent for it. Nothing distracts Aki from his mute, late night musings aside from Power and Denji’s soft, even breathing and the familiar background whirr of facility electronics.

And then, something speaks.

“You should run.”

Aki jolts up, ramrod straight, in bed, stirring, but not waking, Denji and Power with the motion. The voice is foreign, deep and grating like rebar dragging across concrete, and it sets every nerve in his body immediately on edge.

His gaze lands, immediately, on the figure in the corner of the room. His body with a full pistol for a head. The thing is stone-still. Expressionless, insofar as a gun can be.

But somehow, he's absolutely certain he heard it talk.

He wraps a protective arm around each form at his side, trying to ignore the persistent shaking that's overtaken his hands. “Are you threatening me?”

It cocks its head to the side, as if in contemplation. Waits for a moment. Makes an odd noise somewhere between a click and a whirr.

“She's coming. You should run.”

Aki blinks, perturbed. “She?”

“She.” It nods, slow and self-assured. “You won't like what happens after.”

“I– what the Hell is that supposed to mean?”

As if in explanation, the thing raises a hand, ring and pinky finger pressed to the palm, and points purposefully at first Power, then Denji, performing short, jolting upwards motions towards each. A firing fingergun.

Aki's blood runs icecold.

“You're going to make me hurt them again, aren't you?”

“No.” It somehow has the gall to sound offended. “She is.”

“She? Who the fuck is she? I don't–”

“Control.” It says the word with such fearful, adorant gravity. As if it's speaking of a superior. As if it's speaking of a god. “She approaches.” Then, in a sharp, purposeful whisper, a bullet from a barrel, it utters the word again. “Run.”

Aki doesn't trust the thing. Not even moderately. But hearing this thing, this vast, limitless, horrible, inhuman thing, express terror, of all emotions, is enough to light a fire under his ass. To force adrenaline through his veins. To break him from his odd, trancelike haze.

He shakes Power with one hand and Denji with the other.

“How dare you wake the great, indomitable Power while she's resting, you absolute–”

“Hey, what the hell, man? I was dreamin’ about tits–”

“Shut up.” And like dogs at a whistle, they do. “We're going out for a run. Get your shoes, we can't take anything else.”

There must be something in his tone, because neither protest. Just nod with varying degrees of enthusiasm and run to the mat at the doorside to retrieve their sneakers.

The halls are labyrinthine, and Aki doesn't know them well. Navigating them is a guessing game in broad daylight; after dark, it's an impossibility.

But Power seems to know where she's going, either by smell or by sound, and when she decides to lead the way through the Commission facility's winding corridors, Aki makes the bold decision to follow her lead.

Usually the place never sleeps, constantly outfitted and operated by federal pencil-pushers and devil-hunters alike, but tonight, it's completely and utterly empty. Even the guards outside of Aki’s room are absent.

“Somethin's off,” Denji voices Aki’s concerns between hastened breaths, “like, really off. This place feels… weird.”

It would be impossible to disagree. The difference may be strange and implacable, aside from the lack of personal, but it does.

“How'd you know?”

Aki tried to shrug. Tries not to look at the thing keeping pace besides him. It may look calm, but he knows that the truth is anything but. Fear is radiating off it in waves, fear and a cold, overpowering desire for liberation.

“Just did.”

The thing at his side offers updates, as they run.

“She knows you've left the room.”

“She follows, close behind.”

“It is likely she will catch you.”

They aren't particularly helpful.

Not until, the trio turn a corner, exit suddenly in sight, to hear a fourth tactile presence enter the hallway.

“She's here.”

And she is. The approaching clack of heeled footfalls confirms it. The sense of oppressive calm that washes over Aki, a blanket. The familiar voice that wraps around the walls to reach his ears.

“Stop running.”

And he does. How couldn't he? It's Makima.

Denji stops too, turning on his heel with a massive, world-spanning grin, but Power doesn't. She keeps running until she hits the doors, only turning to cast a terrified scowl over her shoulder.

“Not safe!” She growls, animalistic, “keep running! Keep running!”

“It's just Makima.” Denji sounds so sure of himself. And he should. All is right in the world. All is calm. Makima will fix things. She always does.

And then, she's in sight, cheerful and unblinking, and Aki can't help but grin in turn.

“Come here,” she orders him, arms outstretched. And the order is for him, he knows, he can feel it. “Not you,” she adds, likely to Denji, “just him, for now.”

So instead, Denji speaks. “Makima, something weird’s going on, the place is totally empty and–”

“Shhh.” Soft and gentle, that's how the sound escapes her lips. Like silk Like a sigh.

“You walk to your death.” The Gun Devil, again. Only this time, its words mean nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. “You readily embrace it. Do not be so foolish.”

As Aki draws near, her arms wrap around him like a cradle, head resting against her shoulder. The low, warning roar grinding through his mind fades to nonexistence. 

“It wasn't supposed to happen like this,” she breathes in the crux of his neck, “so suddenly. You were meant to die then, you know. Now, I don't think I'll let you die at all. That might be more effective, hm? At least as a failsafe.”

Aki nods. Of course Makima is right. She always is.

“Makima?” Denji doesn't sound scared. Not yet. Just confused. “What's going on? Is this–”

“Denji?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Shut up.”

They're odd words, coming from Makima’s lips. Odd, and callous, and just upsetting enough that the Gun Devil's words are able to find an opening, one last time.

“Run.”

Aki would like to say he tries. But he doesn't.

“Transform.”

And then, Aki's world goes black.

[samhatch]

Chapter 7 is up!

The final installment of my Tamlin/Lucien slash fic is up on AO3!

I seriously had such a blast writing this, I didn't expect it to be so all consuming in my brain, haha! I've thought about nothing else for the last couple months, and I'm a little sad the journey is over.

But I'm planning on reading the rest of the ACOTAR series, and posting my first impressions here on tumblr. So if you're interested in my thoughts, please follow! The community here has been so fantastic, everyone is so passionate over these stories, it's amazing to be a part of. :)

Here's a sneak peak of the beginning of the chapter!

He was taken aback, unprepared for such a direct confrontation. Avoiding my eyes, he stared at his drink, bowing his head slightly in shame. “I deeply regret last night,” he said.  My mouth went dry, and my heart sank into my stomach. There was my answer, plain as day. Even though I’d just told myself I could bear the pain and bury my feelings, I wasn’t expecting the heartbreak to be this excruciating. I felt like I’d just been eviscerated, my guts spilling onto the floor. “I’m so sorry, Lucien,” he said. “It seems these days all I can do is hurt the people I love most.” He tried not to let his self-loathing show. But despite his glamor charms, I could see that he really believed he was only capable of inflicting pain. And it weighed on him heavily.  “I was so selfish,” he continued. “I never realized how much of a burden Fire Night was for you. I had fooled myself into thinking that…” he trailed off. “I mean, last night, when… No, let me start over.” He’d never been very good at articulating himself. I said nothing, and waited with bated breath for him to compose his thoughts.  “At Calanmai during the ritual, I was able to expel the magick and satisfy the spirits with Feyre. One coupling, and they were gone. It was such a relief, having my power back.” I felt the knife in my heart twist with his words. “But after the festival ended, we retreated to our bed. I laid next to her and I felt nothing. Only crushing emptiness, like a part of me was missing. It took me almost until dawn to understand what it was.” He finally raised his eyes to meet mine. “I realized that there was really only one person I wanted to share Fire Night with.” My breath caught in my throat. I looked at him in disbelief, too stunned to respond. “You deserved so much better than what I offered,” he finished.

Thank you again to everyone for your support! It means the world to me!

[shytastemakerthing]

Can I please request a romantic TWST and Ikemen Prince matchup! I am veryyy outgoing. I make friends really easy and overall I’m a people pleaser. I do get very anxious and overwhelmed easily, which can cause panic attacks. I dont like sports, but I do like studying and my grades are something I take pride in. I overwork myself a lot and I make myself crumble. I thrive in environments where I get to help people. I tend to fall for possessive people because it makes me feel like someone actually likes me, even though they’re toxic. I get a long with people pretty easily though a lot of people have taken advantage of me because I’m naive and overly kind and I do anything in my power to make sure that people like me. I crave validation so I love being praised and taken care of, it makes me feel like I’ve done something right. I really enjoy video games and puzzles cause they challenge my brain. Its very easy to get me to do anything- just tell me “if you do _____ then I’ll be so proud of you.” And I’ll do it-. I am a little chubby with stretch marks and surgical scars. I have some sensory issues that can cause panic attacks, like loud places/crowds. I also refuse to eat anything that has even the slightest abnormal texture, like green beans, asparagus, or Brussel sprouts. I love love love sweets, and I almost always have a sweet tooth. Thank you!!!

Hello and thank you so much for your request!! While I work on the remaining requests that I have in my inbox, I'll do the match-up for Twisted Wonderland in this post, and then do the Ikemen Prince match up as soon as I have the rest caught up.

I hope that you enjoy your match-up!

Tw: None

I match you with...........

Malleus Draconia

I may or may not have been listening to a Malleus Draconia playlist as I was writing this but it went so well and I loved it

By nature, Malleus is a rather possessive fae. I mean come on, the man is a literal dragon and it is well known just how possessive dragons are, especially of those they care a great deal about.

Now, he won't just go and lock you up in a tower to keep you all to himself, he was taught better than that no matter how much his draconic instincts scream at him

But he lets this side of him show in other ways

Holding you closer when anyone seems to get too close

Appearing by your side the literal second that someone seems to be bothering you

The subtle 'they're mine' that sounds more like a growl towards anyone who approaches you with more romantic intentions

When he loves, he loves with all that he is

Not to mention, with how lonely and isolated he grew up, he craves your presence and your touch. It does not take him long to be addicted to it

You have a sweet tooth?

Well, so does he, his favorite is ice cream

Meaning that there are plenty of ice cream dates

And lots of them

Malleus is one to surprise you at your front door, either to escort you to a nice ice cream parlor he heard about, or he already has said dessert and the two of you can go on a walk or just hang at yours or his dorm, he isn't picky

You always know when he is near, those green fireflies are always an indicator as to where he is. Sometimes he likes to lead you with them to wherever he is at.

The longer you are with him, the more he grows attached. Whether it be just be a simple study time at the library, hanging out at his club, or even just sitting on a bench and enjoying each others company, he loves it all, just so long as he gets to be with you.

Overall, Malleus is a protective lover, possessive as well (though he can't exactly help that side of him, but he is not one to cross the line. Sure, he may not always have the best solution to problems, sometimes being worse, but he really is trying to do his best. He loves you, and that is a fact that he will remind you of every single day.

Thank you so much for your request!!

[readreactrant]

Thanks for answering my ask. I love reading your answer. You have no idea, how happy and excited I feel when you said, "It's okay to ask again because I love talking about my fav ships".

Because I have been blocked by someone, and before they block me they said that 'I asked too much and it's annoying.' I was like, 'If you mind, please just say that and I will stop asking for sure, I thought you don't mind', but they still block me...

So, if you don't mind, can I ask, what do you think are Gojo and Yuuji’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? Sorry if you've answered these questions before.....

P.s

If you want to answer the questions above with Drarry, Ereri or MikaYuu's dynamics, I don't mind....

Thanks if you want to answer @readreactrant and sorry for my long ask.

hihi dnana, super sorry I took so so long to get to this one in particular, I got backed up with work and school haha. And I'm so sorry to hear that, they definitely blew it out of proportion and that's kind of a bit immature on their part. Rest assured I love getting asks and hearing opinions, they fuel my yaoi passion (✷‿✷)

I'd love to answer for the other ships but I think I've only got energy for Goyuu rn lol. And damn am I gonna have to rack my smut filled brain for this one. I've never really been taken by any of the jjk characters cuz on the first watch, to me it was just like any other shonen. Reading a lot of what the fandom had to say over the last few years has definitely changed my opinion.

Gojo and Yuuji were definitely the first two characters that stuck out to me most in the series, (mostly bc of that almost kiss but oh well (✿ ♡‿♡). They both definitely oozed main character energy and I never completely saw Gojo as just the 'super powerful sensei' there always felt like there was more to him and when story began to focus a bit more on him I wasn't totally surprised.

Overall he's a commanding presence, and enigma in his own right and I admire how much he cares for his students. I wouldn't call him a perfectionist because of he was many of the adult characters and megumi wouldn't have so much of a issue with his attitude. But his definitely to be the strongest definitely stems from some deep drive to be what the jujutsu society needs him to be. And that I think is one of the sadness things about him.

Which is kind of where Yuuji kind of comes in. Like any regular person after watching jjk 0, I couldn't help but look for parallels between Yuuji and Geto. Not purely because of their connections to Gojo but because of their personalities which are quite similar. But where Geto's WAS a quiet kind of optimism and support Yuuji is more open, more rooted in the world around him. I'm not particularly fond of happy-go-lucky toxic positivity protagonists but there's about Yuuji that doesn't quite reach those extremes. He's kindness and slight hero complex is what leads him to assume the weight of the world his shoulders but the very admirable thing about him is that he doesn't break, no matter how weak he is in the face of it all because, undeniably, unlike other protagonists, you can't trust plot armour to work for him. All you know is that Gege doesn't want him happy.

What draws me to them as one of the best ships in the show tho, aside from the yummy teacher/student dynamic, is how cute the look together. Sue me but there's something inherently attractive about their color pallette and height difference. They're so funny and goofy together and Yuuji's ability to match other's energy and brighten the atmosphere is definitely something Gojo deserves to have around more frequently. Similarly I think Gojo's experience with Geto can help him reach out to Yuuji in times the younger male needs to understand not everyone can be saved. There's also this personal thing of mine where I view them as, Yuuji admires Gojo's strength, Gojo sees Yuuji's potential as someone to stand with him at the top (not like Yuuji gonna be topping in any other aspects of ya know what I mean).

All in all, it just makes me so happy seeing the two of them together, there's a lot of potential their dynamic and personalities leave up to exploration. Being teacher and student I also think there'll be a lot of nuance to their relationship if they did fall in love.

Thanks for coming this far, I'll probably edit this later but my brain feels so fried right now but really wanted to answer this ask cuz I've been lazing around trying to find an answer to "Why DO I like goyuu". The truth is tho, you don't need a reason to want to see two characters together.

BUT a ship is always nicer when their personalities and height difference go great together, I don't make the rules ¯\(◉‿◉)/¯

Thanks for the ask dnana and I'll hope I'll be able to do the other ships some other time but I hope my answer satisfied you ( ◜‿◝ )♡

[t4llhum4n]

Yes, Blake is scary because hubris makes him blind to any sort of reason. But REGULUS --

I have words. Starting with the fact that, to me, Regulus is the scariest Redacted villain.

Let me explain.

I'm going to preface this by saying that no, Regulus does not scare me. It's the idea and dynamic between Regulus and his listener, who I will be dubbing "Mine," that's legitimately unsettling.

Let's break this down. "Mine" is an uninformed, unempowered human. Regulus is a cloaked Empathy Daemon of unknown age. Already, we have an insane power imbalance. I think this is the most imbalance we've seen in terms of power and knowledge from any Prime Redacted couple (if I'm wrong, please let me know). And it's only made worse by what Regulus does with his power over "Mine."

Can you imagine having an invisible stalker? Being watched at all hours of the day and never even knowing until they reveal themselves? That's chilling. Beyond that, you can't even see them when they do eventually reveal themselves, and you have no context as to why that might be. Magic doesn't exist to you -- there's no possible way for this to be happening. But it is.

And when this stalker finally speaks to you and confesses that they've been watching your every move, it's unnatural. They're speaking in your mind. That shouldn't be possible. You can't see them, you hear them in your mind -- could it all be in your head? Is this all just a really bad dream?

You aren't able to move. You can feel them on you, but even the parts of you that aren't touching them are paralyzed in place.

They tell you that they're going to fill in the gaps. They're going to "pour themselves into your mind like water." You're told that "you won't get a moment of respite." The invisible stalker's voice is bouncing around your brain, reverberating and echoing in your mind. And you're helpless.

You don't understand what's happening, and you're clearly completely at the mercy of whoever or whatever this being is. Who knows? Maybe if it really is a dream, then you'll just wake up from it all. Sitting up in bed, walking to the kitchen, and making breakfast, getting back to your old routine. Maybe if you just ride this out, it'll all end soon..

And that's the thing. It DOES. "Mine" is saved by the Department, gets their memories wiped, and they start a new relationship. They're happy. Regulus gets taken to containment to be rehabilitated, and it's all over.

Until it's not.

I'm gonna be honest, I low-key was a little "meh" about Regulus being more open with "Mine." It took away the intimidation of their difference in knowledge and made the relationship a little less interesting to me. That is, of course, until that most recent Regulus video came out.

Pardon my southern, but Y'ALL. That shit was insane. That audio put me on edge the entire time. The distortions, the off-putting atmosphere of the dream, the transition from "they are safe in my grasp" to "I'm going to crush the stars between my fingers and make new ones" -- all of it. Chef's kiss. Him saying that he knows it's going to hurt, but that it'll be worth it? Because they'll finally be perfect? It's so insane.

He wants to mold "Mine." That's what makes him so interesting to me. Other yanderes will be all, "oh, you're perfect the way you are, and no one will ever touch you." Regulus? Nah. To him, "Mine" is almost perfect. In every sense except for one: They're still thinking about the outside world. And it drives him crazy.

Overwhelming their thoughts with his voice and presence at all hours of every day (which, as someone who can hardly stand being in a packed grocery store for too long, is a terrifying prospect) wasn't enough. He has to make his reality their reality. That's the only way that they'll finally be perfect.

"I'll make myself so much a part of you that they wouldn't be able to separate us no matter how hard they tried."