#this is current Red Hood slander

[howtheworldcouldb]

If DC weren't cowards they'd let Jason move on to be a magic-crime-based detective instead of trapping him in the tragedy of his own death but NO I have to watch him beat people with a crowbar in THEE most middle school boy costume of all time

[calciseptinefic]

a luxury few can afford

Marvel || Wade Wilson/Peter Parker || Part 4 notes: this fic is also available on ao3 warnings: D/s undertones, alcohol consumption

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Part 3

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Peter's address sits alone on the screen for less than ten seconds before Wade sends:

>> u waited. >> good boy

Those two little words make Peter's entire face turn red. He can almost hear the rough, praising way Wade would say it, his mouth against the shell of Peter's ear.

( . . . )

>> getting food rn >> eta 20 min >> hope ur hungry >> [cooked rice emoji] [mango emoji] [take-out box emoji]

Now that Peter's decided to take as much of Wade as Wade will give him, damn the consequences, he doesn't know how to respond. Normally, he'd send back a quick 'ok' or find an appropriate gif—maybe of Patrick hoovering Krabby Patties into his mouth, or maybe of Yoshi using his tongue to slurp up fruit—but both options feel... flat. He wavers between the two, overthinking it, and ends up choosing a thumbs-up emoji nearly five minutes later. He regrets sending it immediately. Don't people use the thumbs-up emoji passive-aggressively nowadays? Peter's never used it like that but he knows other people do and—

>> [plastic-bag-filled-with-styrofoam-take-out-containers.png] >> got 1 of everything no joke >> and [beer emoji]? u drink [beer emoji] right?

<< Wade, have you forgotten that I'm a college student?

>> me??? 4get a hawt co-ed??? >> slander me not

<< In print it's libel.

>> dont talk nerdy to me bby ill get a [bone emoji]r and scare the cabbie >> gray sweatpants dont hide nuthin'

Peter swallows—hard—and very carefully does not think about Wade going commando in a pair of sweats. Locks his phone and gets off his bed. He goes into the bathroom and brushes his teeth for the third time that day, then squints at his reflection. He knows he's not bad-looking, but he's always thought that he was more plain than handsome. His eyes are an unremarkable brown, as is his hair, which tends to curl when it gets long, as it currently is. Peter wets his hands and runs his fingers through the mess, attempting to tame it, and does not succeed.

It's not like Wade's going to turn around and leave if he doesn't like your hair, Peter thinks, scowling at himself in the mirror. And don't even think about buzzing it five minutes before he gets here. Your head is shaped like an egg. A really weird, unattractive egg. He will leave if he sees the egg.

Going back out into the living space, Peter sits on the edge of the couch, straight-backed and staring at the door. Ten seconds pass before he gets up, goes to the door, and unlocks it. Goes to sit back down before thinking that unlocking the door was stupid. Turns around and locks it. He even secures the deadbolt which—honestly—he rarely does while home. His hand is still hovering on the old brass metal, debating, when someone knocks rhythmically.

"♪ Shave and a hair cut ♪," Wade sings, voice muffled.

Peter unlocks the door and—after forcing his nerves as far down as possible—yanks it open.

Wade is wearing a black hoodie beneath a dark green work jacket, hood pulled up over an 'I <3 NY' baseball cap that casts most of his face in shadow. He's wearing gray joggers and heavy boots, the laces loose. In one hand he carries a white, plastic bag packed with several styrofoam take-out containers and, in the other, a twelve-pack of beer. He freezes in the doorframe.

"Oh," Wade says, a single word caught on an exhale. It sounds like it was punched out of him.

"Hi," Peter says. His smile feels wobbly.

Wade says nothing. He just stares.

"Would you..." The words die in Peter's mouth. He stops. Clears his throat. Tries again. "Uh, hi. Wade. Would you like to come in?"

"... Peter?"

"Yes?"

"Fuuuuuuuck," Wade hisses under his breath, stepping into Peter's apartment. He puts the beer and take-out down, and closes the door behind him. "Hold on, baby boy, I need to—"

Peter's jaw is in Wade's hands. He's wearing gloves. Not the thick leather ones that are part of his Deadpool costume, but a softer pair—suede, maybe?—that feel nice against Peter's skin. When Wade tilts Peter's face upwards, Peter's eyelids droop and his gaze falls to Wade's mouth; he wants to be kissed again.

"Shit shit shit," Wade says instead. The pads of his thumbs are running across Peter's cheeks. "What the actual fuck? How can you be this fucking cute? Look at you. Those big doe eyes, your eyebrows, even your fucking forehead—is it weird if I lick your forehead? Sweet ninja baby Jesus Christ, I wanna lick your forehead."

Peter's nose wrinkles.

"Oh god, you're even cuter when you're grossed out and I can see the little crinkle between your eyebrows. Hold still, Petey Pie, I gotta—"

"Wade, don't you fucking dare lick my—ew!"

Wade licks a stripe up from between Peter's eyebrows to his hairline. Peter shrieks and manages to wriggle out of Wade's hands, then dodge as Wade tries to grab for him again. He's laughing, he realizes, as Wade chases him around his small living space.

"Get back here, punk!" Wade yells, following Peter in circles around the couch.

"No!" Peter screeches. "You licked my forehead, you weirdo!"

Wade tries to vault the couch to tackle Peter, but Peter simply jumps, grabs onto the relatively high ceiling with a hand, and folds his body into a crouch. He hangs upside down as Wade jumps, his attempts to grab Peter close but unsuccessful. After a few tries, Wade folds over, breathing hard, and slaps a thigh in defeat.

"Okay, fine," he concedes. "We're at an impasse."

Peter raises an eyebrow. "From where I am, it looks like I win."

Wade stands upright and shrugs. "Maybe. I mean, you're right, I can't get what I want with you up there. But..." Wade walks back to the door. Toes out of his boots, then picks up the food he brought. "You can't get what you want either."

"So, truce?" Peter suggests, eyeing the take-out.

"Nah, baby boy, it don't work like that. We trade. One forehead lick for one dinner."

"And the beer?"

Wade pauses and looks around. There isn't much to see. Peter's apartment is a postage stamp on the top floor of an ancient building; one wall has an old fridge and oven, some cabinets and some counter space, while two doors are on the adjacent wall, one leading to Peter's bedroom and the other to the tiny bathroom. Peter has a couch and a tall square coffee table that doubles as an actual table. Wade sets the food and beer atop its scratched surface.

"Well, footsie seems to be out of the question here, but I'll settle for a simple exchange. One beer is one kiss."

"Me giving you a kiss, or you giving me a kiss?"

"Me to you."

"Placement?"

"Whatever tickles my fancy."

Peter wants to believe that getting a kiss from Wade will be a straightforward matter, but the problem is, what he wants to believe and what he knows to expect are two entirely different things. Wade is just as likely to give Peter a chaste peck on lips as he is to make-out with Peter's elbow.

Could be hot, a traitorous part of Peter's brain chimes in before Peter squashes it.

"I agree to your terms," Peter says. He unfolds, rolls his neck, then drops, doing a half-flip mid-fall so he lands on his feet. "Just, ugh, don't make it weird."

"Oh, sweetheart," Wade purrs. "It's like you don't even know me."

Wade gets into Peter's space. The line of their bodies are close, but not touching. One of Wade's finger curls beneath Peter's chin, pulling up and forcing Peter to both tilt his head back and to rise up onto the balls of his feet. At the same time, the palm of Wade's other hand slides over Peter's eyes, then back, pushing the strands that fall against his forehead away from the skin. Wade holds him there until Peter's calves start to shake. Then and only then does Wade lean forward and press the flat of his tongue to Peter's skin. The lick is a slow, wet slide that Peter feels down to his toes, equal parts strange and arousing.

"Don't wipe it off," Wade tells Peter when he steps back.

"But it's gross," Peter complains.

"Wipe it off and we do it again," Wade says. He waits for a moment but Peter's hands stay obediently by his sides. "No? Okay. Let's eat then."

It's a mad shuffle of containers, napkins, and utensils, but they make it work. Neither of them have a dedicated entree; they just pick and choose, taking bites from whatever looks appealing. Peter's first beer comes with a quick kiss on the cheek, Wade's lips slippery from his last bite of noodles; his second is accompanied by a press of lips and swipe of tongue to the inside of his wrist.

"Aren't you going to take your gloves off?" Peter asks halfway through the meal, even though he already knows how Wade gets about his skin. He hasn't been that way around Peter, not for a long time, rolling the bottom half of his mask up and over his nose without hesitation. "Your hat?"

Wade chews on a prawn, slowly, before saying, "I wasn't planning on it."

"Why not?" Peter takes a swig of his beer.

Wade shrugs, his big shoulders moving in a quick up-down motion that's more deflective than unsure. It's only then that Peter realizes the only part of Wade he's seen exposed is the lower half of his face. It's never been anything else. Even when Wade's suit was damaged, there was always so much blood and/or gore that Peter never saw much else.

"Well, I showed you mine," Peter says as casually as possible, gesturing to himself vaguely with his plastic fork. "And I would like it if you showed me yours."

Wade stabs at some chicken. Pops it into his mouth. Chews slowly, before asking, "Are you sure, baby boy? It ain't pretty under here."

"I'm sure," Peter says.

"Are you? Because I look like this," Wade points to his exposed chin, "all over. And I'm not gonna lie—I like how you look at me now. Like you want me. Like I'm someone who can be desired. If you see all of me, that might change."

"You could be an eye-searing shade of neon orange and I'd still find you attractive, Wade."

Wade snorts. "Traffic cone might be better than what I've got going on."

"I'm not going to force you, Wade," Peter says quietly. He focuses on the Kra Pad in front of him, pushing the rice grains and bits of vegetable around. "I just don't want to hide anything from you and I don't want you to hide anything from me. But if that's not what you want, then that's okay. Making you do something you don't want to do or aren't ready to do is a dick move, and I don't—"

"Peter."

But Peter's on a roll. "And I don't want to make you uncomfortable even though you should know by now that I'm not going to judge you based on what you look like. Hell, we've known each other long enough now that if anything was going to drive me away it would be your personality—"

"Peter."

"—but obviously your personality kinda does it for me because we're sitting here, aren't we, and I haven't blocked your number or kicked your ass out of Queens or—"

"Peter," Wade interjects. "Jesus, okay, would you just look at me—"

And.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Wade has pulled down his hoodie and taken off his hat, and he's just as hot as Peter imagined he would be. Hotter, maybe. Sure, his skin is uneven, raw and red in some places, but Peter has long since become accustomed to the ever-changing topography of it. Scars and sores are inconsequential compared to the shape of his blue eyes and the bald curve of his skull, the muscular set of his jaw and the strength of his brow. He looks brutish—powerful— dangerous—and it lights Peter up inside in a way that has nothing to do with fear.

"Nngh," Peter says intelligently.

Wade's expression remains cautious. He's waiting, Peter realizes, to be rejected. Or for Peter to trip over himself and assure him he's handsome—which he is, but Peter knows Wade won't believe him. So Peter wisely says nothing. Instead, he reaches forward and grabs the front of Wade's hoodie, tugging a little so Wade will lean in.

"Closer," Peter says.

Warily, Wade leans forward a bit more.

"No, closer," Peter says.

Wade leans forward even more.

"Okay, good," Peter says and—without warning—licks a long, wet stripe across Wade's forehead. The skin is textured beneath the flat of his tongue but not unpleasant. When Peter pulls back, a line of spit shines under the light.

"The fuck—" Wade begins, ungloved hand rising to his head.

"If you wipe it off, I do it again," Peter teases.

Wade stares at him, eyes round. He isn't wearing that awful, guarded expression anymore. Instead, he looks at Peter with genuine incredulity, like Peter did the last thing Wade would have expected. Peter smiles. It isn't often that he gets to pull a fast one on Wade, and he enjoys it immensely.

"One forehead lick, one dinner," Peter tells him. "Looks like I'm buying next time, huh?"

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Part 5

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[variablejabberwocky]

thinking about potential names for bitty!bruce's vigilante persona (didn't want to put this on the long chain of good ideas so i found the bit with the first mention of anti-robin, but they ARE good ideas and people should follow that thread for delicious funny angst) and i think WHICH name he goes by is gonna shape how the story unfolds but here are some ideas:

ROBIN - just strait up robin. little bruce did his research and saw kid vigilantes have themes based on where they're at/from and in gotham kid heroes are Robins, so he's a robin. obviously. it was good enough for his new dad guardian its good enough for him. dick is unhappy this little shit is being brainwashed into everything he thought he got PAST as robin. damian is pissed this pretender who has already slandered his honor is also Taking His Spot that Father refuses to give him yet. even funnier if while bitty!bruce was stealing jason's memorialized suit he also like idk stole tim's old suit? just ripped the trackers out of it/hacked them to be on hood's wavelength instead of the bats and went 'hey its a free costume'. tim would be so confused and OBSESSED. someone is pulling a him, is it damian? is he trying to take robin from him? is everyone else in on it? is this them trying to train his own replacement without telling him? are they trying to let him down easy or just slowly stonewall him out? like the confusion would be cleared up when he's spotted with hood, but there for a hot second? oof tim's insecurities would act up

ANTI-ROBIN - bitty!bruce did his research like above but CLEARLY he is the superior bruce, and his new dad guardian can beat up your dad is OBVIOUSLY training him better than big!bruce trains his robins, so clearly he is a living critique of big!bruce's methods and the antithesis of his robins. (let little bruce give off maximum damian vibes! its funny AND sad!) the costume could be like inverted colors of robin or the same colors but in the opposite locations.

BAT BOY - let this little angry spicy bean take one look at his alternate universe Big Self and go 'hold my flower'. he WILL be the superior bat themed vigilante, he's already got a head start by Not Sucking At Caring About Jason. he's Got This! your choice of if its just a robin costume dyed black/grey or if he goes full Batman But Miniature about it.

MINI HOOD - maybe he doesn't pick a name on his own, maybe he just gets called something enough to answer to it. i mean he follows Hood around like a lost little duckling and his glower is no joke either. look they even have the same temper! plus this is bruce we're talking about, he ABSOLUTELY has the capacity to be a little mimic. i mean 'brucie wayne' had to come from somewhere. so what if he intentionally picks up on more and more of jason's little mannerisms and body language. he wants to be more like his new dad guardian! plus helmets are practical.

BLUE JAY - i've seen a lot of stories where ALL the former robins become other birds when they outgrow the robin mantle and a frequent one is cardinal. but this is the antithesis of a robin and i've seen a lot of stuff with bluejays and cardinals together as Opposite Brightly Colored Birds Of Winter. so: blue jay. it would also be a little bit of a fuck you to nightwing since he went from mostly red outfit to mostly blue and i can see bruce planning to do the opposite of the Original Robin AND its a subtle nod to jason being his guardian. and you could do so many different things with the costume! is it basically a black and blue robin costume? is it a miniature of the old grey and blue batman costume? is it a tiny red hood but with blue instead of red? is it an entirely different costume unlike any others? is it modeled after the current robin (tim) to show he's the equivalent?

Prompt:

Jason gets booted to another dimension and adopts a recently orphaned Bruce Wayne.

Whom he also takes along for the ride when he’s pulled back into his own dimension.

[jay-cult]

Crying Over Coconuts

Seabound aftermath. Jay is sad. Zippy is an adorable puppy. ~3k. All you need to know.

Things had been silent back at the monastery, which had only started feeling emptier as a new sun rose the morning after the ceremony. It was clear time wasn't going to heal this wound for anyone. Jay had to move about. Every minute he had itched to do something, to walk through a door or around the monastery walls. Because if he didn't, he would have felt awful just sitting around depressed in the plaster cage that was his room. But maybe he had deserved to lay around feeling awful. Maybe he should have just let his bad thoughts reclaim him. But of course, he had been selfish.

And so, that day, he felt the need to just go somewhere. Wherever his legs would take him, his mind would follow. He strode out the monastery. Nobody said anything to him. They just let him walk out without saying a word. At some point, through some combination of acquiring the fixed up sub speeder and making his way to the docks, he found himself speeding through the sea. He didn't even know why he had decided to use that thing. He hated being in there.

Once he got far enough, Jay had a difficult time trying to navigate. His long, skinny fingers handled the controls on some sort of autopilot to an unknown place. He couldn’t concentrate. Instead, he stared at the sea around him, getting lost in its infinite depths. His 5-foot-6, bone-dominated body laid nicely in the cushioned seat, and it made Jay suddenly wish that he could feel numb. Due to the mechanic team’s efforts, the chair was comfortable, luxurious, even. He felt bad for feeling. He didn’t want to feel. Jay let out a shaky sigh; if only he couldn’t think.

Suddenly, the sea began to rush in harsh currents around him. Loud BOOMS from the sky echoed through the water, and bright purple flashes of light blinked in his vision every few seconds. It appeared his subconscious had taken him to the storm belt- now he knew where he was going. “Ah crap-!” He returned to his senses when a chunk of stone crashed into the waves beside him. He gripped hard back onto his controls, and the fast pace of the fearful moment allowed him to focus on twisting around the dangerous zones. And eventually, finally, he rounded the corner of a wave and his sub splashed out of the storm-protected part of the shore.

Jay’s panicked breathing slowed as he looked out at the familiar calm view of the island of the keepers. He began his course along the coastline, making his way towards the keepers’ village. He now realized just what he wanted, and why he was here.

The sub’s metal body broke the water’s surface as it arrived at the keepers’ dock. Numerous guards rushed up to do their check of the visitor. The boy’s head appeared as the hood creaked open, smiling nervously. He glanced from spear-wielding keeper to keeper. “Hey! Hey, look who’s come to visit! It’s me, Gift of Jay!” He gestured exaggeratingly to himself, grinning.

They lowered their spears and let Jay hop onto the wet wood of the dock. They looked at each other with hesitance in their eyes. One of them stepped forward. “Poultik is not here. He went out with a party of keepers on a sailing voyage to search for the lost storm amulet.”

“Oh, the two-headed guy who really likes me isn’t… here?” His expression started to fall.

“Few days, maybe,” the keeper replied. “But, urhm, we can help you, Gift of Jay! What brings you here?”

Jay smiled a bit, but then his face fell again. “Oh, well, I guess I’m here to bring some news,” he answered, realizing in the moment that they should probably know what happened. They started to look excited, but Jay shook his head. “No, no, bad news. Er, last you heard… The amulet in Shintaro was fake, and Ninjago City was going to be attacked. Well, it was attacked. There were a lot of civilian casualties. I would know, I almost drowned like the rest of them.”

The keepers’ expressions turned into frowns. “Oh, no,” the speaker stepped forward. “Is Ninjago City alright?”

Jay’s heart started feeling cold. “It is alright. We were safe. But we wouldn’t have been… and I wouldn’t be alive… if it wasn’t for Nya. She… she made a sacrifice. She’s gone.”

There was silence among the group, and the only thing that could be heard was the crash of the sea and the cry of a single gull above it. The keeper spoke up again. “Oh… she was your Yang, was she not?”

“Yeah,” Jay choked out simply.

The speaking keeper ordered a guard to bring the information to Chief Mammatus and told the rest to continue on with their duties. He bowed to Jay. “Well, Gift of Jay, if there is anything else you may need, call for Sungker. For now you may rest in the Gift Room until you need anything.”

“Thanks, Sungker.” The boy in blue reached up to give him a pat on the shoulder, and unexpectedly felt a little welcoming static from his skin.

-

After a ride on the pulley-operated platforms that he felt bad for enjoying, Jay sat on a stiff chair in the room. He had taken a platter filled with exotic foods and drinks and was completely stuffing his face, and as he was doing so, tears fell in dozens down his face. He couldn’t stand himself. Here he had come, selfishly wishing to be treated like a king, and his faithful servant(s?) wasn’t even here to pamper the great gift. And now he was sad about it, and he hated himself for it.

What was he going to do now? How else was he going to make his mind feel numb from pain, so the only thing he felt was uplifted, praised, happy? The League of Jay wasn’t necessarily an option, since they were caught up in their own damages from the city’s fall. Where else could he possibly go- to Murtessa and the Munce? He cringed at the thought. Though he knew he would be treated like royalty among their people, he couldn’t possibly betray Nya by basking in the attention of another woman who liked him. That would be pure cruelty; slander to her name and to their relationship. He chucked a half-eaten fruit at the floor aggressively, and its juice stained the wood. It rolled sadly into a crack.

Jay caught his reflection in the platter and stared at it angrily. His tear-worn face snarled back at him without hesitation, all emotions having been let loose. He stood up and set the platter down gently on the chair. He sniffed and dragged his knuckles across his freckled nose, now a menacing red. “I need to go for a walk,” he expressed shakily.

The inside of the room had been lit with electric lamps after the sky had gone dark. Jay left them going as he made his way to the door and slowly pulled it open. But instead of the view of the jungle he had expected to see from the deck, he was looking into the slitted eyes of a very sweaty beast. Its body pulsed back and forth with a pant, and its light green scales shimmered menacingly in the moonlight. In its huge mouth was a gently gripped, large, brown coconut.

“Oh, Zippy! The hell are you-?” The dragon nudged his snout into Jay's torso, pushing him back with the force. Zippy dropped the slimy fruit on the ground beside him and bowed like a dog.

Jay’s gloved hands picked up the nasty ball. “Not really the time for this right now, bud,” he said with a soft smile, giving Zippy a few pats on the head with the other hand. He reeled back his arm and then sent the coconut flying past their heads and over the railing, leaving bits of slobber behind from the velocity. Jay wiped his hand on his gi as he walked on the deck and around the corner, but once again came face-to-face with the reptile.

“I mean, what did I expect?” Jay sighed, comforted by the presence of the good-hearted creature. He was presented with the coconut once more, and acquired it in his arm before giving Zippy a good scratch under the jaw. This nearly sent the dragon crashing over the rail by the sheer force of his dropping and rolling from the pleasure of the scratching.

The slobber-stained ninja shook his head in amusement after a small bout of startled shock. “Maybe we should play somewhere a little safer, buddy,” he suggested.

Zippy followed Jay like he had a whole cooked chicken. Eventually, Jay was far enough from the village to feel safe from destroying it and, most importantly, to feel alone. He settled himself on a formation that jutted up above the trees, with a singular light blue flower growing on its ledge. He stood so that it was shielded by his legs, as if he were keeping it safe from Zippy’s reckless ruckus. From here he could clearly see the island’s unique sky. The violent storm twisted in a ring around the island’s shores, but in the middle it parted to reveal a sphere of the clear night. Though the stars were pretty, it was the moon that gave the world light, cut into a neat half and half- ironically called a quarter moon. One side light, one side dark as a sea trench.

Jay gave the fruit a good chuck into the trees below, and Zippy rather ungracefully dove into the jungle to give chase. He realized how good it felt to throw something with such great force at the moment. Jay gazed a bit at the hands that had done it all, from the throwing to the fighting. They were settled in flexible gloves cut at the fingers, which had not been washed for days; gloves which had usually gotten such good care when possible.

Zippy returned back with the coconut in due time. “You know,” Jay said, patting Zippy’s nose, “I always wondered why they called it a coconut when botanically, it’s a fruit.”

The dragon tilted his head, confused at the boy’s matter-of-fact tone. But soon enough he forgot and began spinning in circles, begging for the sacred fruit-fetching ritual to continue to take place.

Jay threw again, laughing at his antics. He envied how simply the creature perceived things, with a brain and heart so, well, simple. It must have been easy living simply. All you needed to do was munch the plentiful fruit of the isle, amuse yourself with a ball, and make friends with everyone you came across.

When Zippy returned from a few more tosses, Jay put his hands on his knees, starting to really breathe a bit. “I think that’s enough for me for now,” he said. The beast gave him big puppy eyes, noticing the tire in his tone, but Jay did not relent. He turned to head back to the village, but the dragon settled into the ground quickly in a curve that blocked him. Zippy shifted his head into his claws, seemingly happy to take a break himself.

“Well, I guess I could stay a little while,” Jay decided, plopping himself into a safe spot against the dragon’s body. His thin legs still surrounded the patch of grass that the flower was growing from. He guessed he developed some sort of attachment to the little thing.

The ninja suddenly heard a deep resounding crack beside him, and the grunts of a confused Zippy. “Huh?” He twisted over to see what was happening, and within seconds, he understood. The dragon snorted and began shaking his head and spitting, sending sticky bits of fruit flying from left to right. Zippy hadn’t been paying attention to the pressure he was putting on the coconut while he was resting, and his powerful jaw had crushed the thing to smithereens.

“No, Zippy! But the coconut! It was yours… it’s all gone now!” For reasons inexplicable to him, Jay’s face started suddenly scrunching again, ugly wetness trickling endlessly from his eyes. “Now what are we gonna do? I-” he sniffed- “you broke it!”

Zippy pressed his head against Jay’s side gently, not forcefully careless like before. The dragon sighed slowly, a peaceful sound reminiscent of a comforting whisper. Jay grabbed onto the sides of his face and pressed himself against his forehead, tears seeping into his scaly skin. The boy erupted into full out sobs, letting himself go in the openness of the wild jungle. And nobody saw him except for that simple creature.

After a hefty fifteen minutes, Zippy must have sensed a steady increase of calming from Jay’s crying, and removed his head from against him. He gave Jay a sloppy couple of licks across his face, possibly hoping to make him cleaner.

“I’m- I’m really sorry, boy,” Jay forced out between decreasing sniffs. He placed his hand gently on Zippy’s chin. “I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I mean, yeah, I’m going through some stuff, b-but… a coconut?”

The dragon gently pushed the boy onto the ground, and curled himself neatly up around him and the flower. He gave Jay an understanding look, no judgement in his gaze. Just sympathy. His tail flicked gently in the grass, making a nice brushing sound. After being seated, Jay rested one of his hands on Zippy’s nose and rustled the other into a pocket in his gi. He slid out his shiny half of his charm, his Yin promise, and turned it slowly in his hand. He watched the moonlight glint on its surface and flicker at the edges as he moved it.

“I just want her back,” he lamented softly.

The creature raised his scale-touched nose and sniffed the metal charm with his big nostrils. His curious eyes crossed to give it a good look.

“Yeah, I know, it looks like just a thing,” Jay said, “but I tell ya, it’s special. I helped make it. It’s really important…” he started to bittersweetly tell the story of how their Yin-Yang charms were made, and the entire crisis that was the proposal. “I know, I know, on the edge of a battle, right? But I thought I wouldn’t’ve gotten any other chance! Besides, it was cool. Suspenseful. It was like we were in a love story.”

He fell silent again for a moment, listening only to the hum of jungle bugs. He sighed again. “I guess the best love stories do always end in tragedy.”

Zippy let out a sympathetic moan, comforting Jay’s emotional state. Jay shifted his gaze back to the clouds above the sea. “I’m always gonna hold up my end of the promise, though. No matter what. I’m never gonna give up on her, Zippy. Even if things don’t ever go back.”

The dragon grunted his approval.

“Still, though. I just can’t help it. I’m always staring at the water, with super unreasonable expectations. And then I get so hopeful, and then I get let down, until I’m staring hopelessly into a pool of my own tears.” He dug his face into his knees. “It’s abysmal. I’m sorry. You’re the only pers- er, thing- I’ve talked about it with, really.”

Zippy tilted his head affectionately, and tried to nudge Jay’s out of his knees. His eye poked out from above his daily gi’s pants, shining with emotion. “Well, I guess Maya caught me crying once, but that doesn’t count.”

The dragon’s own eyes started to gain a shine, and he shook his head, blinking erratically.

Jay took his body out of its hiding position, wrapping his arms around Zippy’s face to stop his shaking. “It’s okay to cry, boy,” he soothed, and the two cried together into the night until reality faded and they were both asleep beside a perfectly intact, dew-covered flower.

-

Morning rolled around and Jay said his lighthearted goodbyes to the keepers without eating breakfast. He stood at the edge of their dock, shaking hands with Sungker as a parting exchange.

“Thanks for being so nice, Sungker. I’ll see you again soon.”

Sungker looked to his sides bashfully. “Yes, yes, of course, Gift of Jay. Perhaps next time Poultik will be here to provide more assistance?”

Jay shrugged. “I’d like to see him, but maybe next time he and I can do something a bit more… two-sided, as friends.”

He gave an approving “hmph” to the departing visitor, and waved him off as he climbed back into his sub speeder.

As Jay sped gracefully through the aggressive waves, he came to the realization that he had been needing. Somehow, it wasn’t praise or luxury that had made him forget his sorrow. In fact, it was quite the opposite, a nature-bound therapy session with a gross but loving creature, which had made him feel a lot better.

As Ninjago City rose in the distance, he remembered one more thing.

“Whoops. Forgot to tell them their amulet broke.”

[thr-333]

Could you possibly do one where Mari/Mari and marine is/are the daughter/son of the joker?

I actually planned quite a lot for this after you asked but could never get my thoughts to make something comprehensive so I give up here's what I got!:

-Twins are Joker and Harleys kids born before the two split up(and so help me they will split up this story needs gay aunt Ivy)

-As you might know, these two clowns have another kid; Lucy. Harley left Lucy with her sister when she was born. In canon, she thinks Harley is her aunt but I would say in this fic she learned the truth when the twins were also dropped off.

-So the twins grew up in Gotham with their aunt and big sister knowing full well who their parents are; as such they make the responsible choice to suppress every part of themselves that resembles them and constantly dye their hair in an effort to avoid looking like them. You know healthy coping mechanisms. -

-Naturally, Marinette has brown hair with blue eyes and Marion blonde with brown eyes.

-Their personalities are a bit different from Mismatch. 

-Marion is still a trickster and a trouble maker but this time around has Marinette fully involved and responsible for his shenanigans. He has a bit of a habit of talking to himself(or singing random phrases), sometimes in the third person; he hates when he does, so Marinette always tells him off. He’s always gets the impulse of dying his hair outlandish colors and will vehemently deny his favorite color is green.

- Marinette is crafty, both figuratively and literally. She’s smart, her mother is a doctor after all she can be manipulative to people that arent her(close) family to protect the ones she cares about. She has a deep-seated fear of becoming a trophy, an object to be put on display like her mother and so dresses the opposite and pushes away her love for fashion.

-They will always call each other Mari but if someone else tries they both answer its a nickname they strictly use for each other.

-In a world where Gotham exists it makes absolutely no sense that Gabriel wouldn't start his reign as Hawkmoth in Gotham(the place with the most negative emotions like geez) so that works out perfectly for the twins becoming heroes(Adrien can move to Gotham or be left in Paris to be kept safe your choice)

-Instead of the twins proving themselves by helping an old man up off the street they go a step further is beating up the thugs that try to rob him(all Fu’s set up of course). When they come home to find two mysterious boxes on their beds they make the only rational conclusion children of the joker would; it’s a bomb!

-Not wanting to get the police involved for obvious reasons they find the security footage(which gets the police involved in a different way) and start tracking down fu to see why he’s trying to kill him.

-And as you may recall at this point in canon Ladybug and Chat Noir are defeating an Akuma, well they're not here they’re off to beat up an old man so thats Batman’s job for the time being.

-The twins get caught up in the fight as civilians and are saved by Batman who immediately recognizes them(you don't think Batman has case files on all of Jokers hellspawn?) so that’s gonna be a problem later but never mind that for now~

-The twins track down Fu, who is wondering why they aren’t out fighting the Akuma. Long story short Fu comes back to the house with them and proves they aren't bombs giving them the miraculous.

-I’m a bit indecisive on the names. I thought Marinette would be Red Bug and Marion Black Cat(yes I know that names already taken I don’t care). But I thought Crimson Bug would work better because then their names would start with the same letters. Then I wanted alliteration like Black Bug and Crimson Cat but that obviously doesn't make any sense since Chats color is green not red-- then I realized it would be completely in character for them to call themselves that confusing everyone in the process so no one quite sure whos name is who(if you wanna write it go with whatever I just thought it could be funny)

-As for costumes Marinette's probably wouldn't be skin tight because deep down she really doesn't want to look like that but more practical armor or less form-fitting at least. Marion's hair turns green when he transforms something he freaks out about and Marinette's turns red(glowing or not either would look cool)

-So anyway they go off to defeat the akuma blah blah blah Batman seeing these two young untrained superheroes can only think of one thing: I have to adopt them. So that’s gonna be fun!

-Anyway they go back home trying to be sneaky and immediately get caught by Lucy: ”Don’t tell Aunty!”-- ”Oh I already know” (her names Delia by the way)

- So now the twins get a support system and a family that will look out for them unbelievable right? This support system immediately threatens Fu making sure he actually trains them and doesn't just set them loose on Gotham.

Anyway that's the end of my semi-cohesive plan and here's a vague outline for the fic:

1. Becoming ladybug and chat noir setting up adoption, and school(Bruce invites them to Gotham academy to keep an eye on the jokers children)

2. First day at school setting up Artemis(and by extension young justice), and own passions, Adrien is also at this school now so Marinette falls, Jason finds out falling in love with Marion

3. Becoming friends with Artemis, convinces them to give their passions a try, Marion runs from hood, some let me adopt you stuff also Jason's spite for Cat Noir

4. Skip a bit of time a few months or so, young justice need help Artemis suggest mari and mari, Marinette has a smackdown with batman about their heritage, at odds with young justice Artemis comes to their defense. Young Justice have an ‘oh’ realization on the job when Marion sings a lullaby to a scared child, now the young justice form the mari and mari protection squad

5. Doing ladybug and cat stuff batman approaches them again this time luring them into adoption with a partnership on finding hawkmoth, Red Hood and cat fight. Marion comes back all huffy and there's a scene with Lucy this time comforting them, Marion goes out to get air runs into hood marion bristles stirring Jason to meet him as a civilian, class come to visit, at odds with lila

6. Doing well at school even made a few friends when the Paris class come to visit completely under lila’s control, lila tries to slander the twins for not worshiping her only to out herself when she tells everyone they laughed at her(the twins never laugh), Jason also drops by further discrediting her, lila tries to throw their heritage in their face but they get support openly working with heroes as civilians, this little section ends quite happily with them being sort of accepted at school and batman tolerating their existence for not attacking the person who tried to make their life miserable

7. Time skip few years out of high school now, ladybug and cat are working well with gothams vigilantes widely considered part of the batfam even if no one knows each other's identities. As mari and mari they are doing good work mainly outside of gotham. Marinette is starting a fashion boutique with a little financial help from Wayne enterprises she also does costume design for heroes and villains, villains mainly because she can't stand their current outfits. Marion quite likes his music but isn't sure how he will feel in the public eye is great friends with Jason and the skip picks up with them officially starting to go out identities unknown. They are still hesitant about their identities in civilian life Marinette starting her business under a false name and Marion cant start his because of his heritage. Jason officially has to admit they are going out to the family is met with grilling by aunt and sister, joy by harley once she tries giving them sex advice they leave, his brothers tease and both are tense about Bruces reaction but he begrudgingly accepts. Are out as ladybug and Cat still snippy with hood but it’s not as bad they are closing in on hawkmoth. Go to hang out with young justice as well they aren't well-liked in Gotham but they’re fine with that(not really)

8. NOW things can go to shit joker finally has enough of them deciding to get a hold of them but I think it should be as ladybug and chat revealing their identities to the world. The twins are terrified rightfully so. Get saved now it’s weird between hood and marion, marion feeling betrayed Jason knew who he was and knew who his father was but still decided to date him and he just can't understand why. Adrien was so scared for Marinette and now they both have to work out why. Gotham is at odds the heroes they admire are born from a villain they fear. Bats are a bit weird feeling like they were tricked while also kind of acknowledging the twins are good people

9. Harassed in their everyday life now the twins go to young justice where they get met with awe for being established independent heros, bats there are acting weird but the twins say something to shift perspective leaving to let them mull on it. Jason tries to apologise saying he doesn't see Marion like that blah blah Marion has a breakdown asking how he can be anything but a villain. Marinette's having whiplash going from loved to hated and still dealing with the trauma of seeing her father. They snap. In public a big ol scene and they get akumatised everyone sees it, it’s on tv. Hawkmoth comes out to get their miraculous the batfam can’t beat him. He’s monolouging probing at their deepest fears when they snap back to reality realizing none of it’s true every part of them has worked to be good people and they are they don't hand over their miraculous beating the akumatizaton and beating hawkmoth while akumatised.

10. They are released from the hospital a few days later, getting hesitant recognition on the streets. It's not thunderous applause but it is something. Their family comes to pick them up, Adrien is crying to Marinette about not scaring him like that(her family took him in when Gabriel was revealed). Marion gets picked up by Jason they patch things over. They get accepted into the batfam and work as ladybug and cat for everything. Marion decides to start playing music and Marinette reveals her face to her fashion brand.

[kurou3gi-blog]

Each member delulu reading part1

**Warning**

This card playground is for delulu entertainment only and none of trusting thing… And if you ok with this kind of nonsense content…

Let’s Go!!!!

Previous card reading part 1 , 2

And the theme of this card reading set is 

the narrow-mindedness & maliciousness ravens vs conquest raven 

aka when you want to win, but the teammates secretly want to throw the game by deal...

1.Kai & Do

Sorry for bringing the two of them together. Even though I actually caught k's cards before soo's...

Because when I picked up the card, as you can see... It's an inverted of 9 swords card that means he's in doubt, or is being slander rumored....

So it made me unclear that he was now paranoid. or that he is being insulted in a slander way, or he is going to be unfolded?

But, this is a set of one card per member reading... So at first, I was going to put aside my doubts and turned to pick up soo's cards.

Then...

As you see... again...

Soo's card is a Lovers card...

And for more clears... Usually, the inverted of 9 swords card appears in matters of love and relationship...

So when I saw that kai's next card was this... Well well well... In the name of Delulu God. Think of these two cards as an extension... It's a connection to each other.

But you might be wondering when soo got the lovers card. Why did kai's card become a card of paranoia? Or is he in a situation of gossip?

That's because this lovers card usually comes up when love is a problem... As you can see, the picture on the card is a pic of Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf. It is not an image that shows pure love or romantic love like other decks of cards...

So, turn back to kai's card. I secretly felt that the meaning of the two cards was secretly connected...

Ok... I know it's a delulu... But lets me go alejandro!!

Btw... I think I know and not surprise, if someone think of soo's gf when they see the lovers card...

But, like you see... That Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf... It's a kind of allure in the name of bad romance not pure romance...

The love that like love shot... -3-

P.s. I think they chose the lovers card, because in the name of lgbtq love story in sk is still taboo... And as usual, when they talk about sugar love through cards, they choose the 1 of cup and the 2 of cups cards to represent it... <<Hope you understand what I mean....

2.Bh & Cy

Again....

I brought the two of them together because their cards were very close in feelings...

As we all know, the two of them are currently in the military.

And if you still remember the cards of the two guys who just returned from the military? You should probably remember that the cards of both of them during the military period indicate introvert, no sign of movement.

So at first, I thought I might have seen similar cards when I asked about them.

But when I picked up bh's card and saw that it was the right tilted of knight pentagles card, I accidentally let out "Oh!".

This card means you try to escape from quarreling. It feels like I don't want to know or hear anything anymore. Because no matter what, I still insist on the same answer.

The stagnation for dogmatic....

P.s. At first, if the knight pentagles card was straight, it easy to say that now bh was in a tired mode from training in the army. But...

Then...

cy's the inverted of hermit card...

This card means when we feel that taking a withdraw to keep an eye on the situation is going to be a mistake. So he started to feel fidgety and started struggling to find a way to get things right... Like the kitten in the picture who can no longer just sit and stare at the window...

But if we think that they are now in the military... So,what was the reason for them to be in such a state like this?

Okay, put this aside and wait to the part2...

[angrylizardjacket]

mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 3

3. i thought love was a kind of emptiness

Summary: So you’re in love with him. Not great. And you wanna tell your brother about it, but that means coming clean about everything, and you’re not gonna do that! So you’re just gonna suffer, because it’s for the greater good. And you’re not gonna make things weird. Speaking of weird though, how is this even going to end? Colson sounds kind of like a masochist when he talks about it, but there must be a way to make neither of you seem like the bad guy... When this all ends. Which it will, much to your chagrin.

A/N: watch me have no idea about american geography

the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples @oopsiedoopsie23 @mayaslifeinabox @mrs-machinegun-norris @hxbbit

----

For the record, and if anyone asks, when Colson sends you a photo of himself in full Tommy Lee makeup, your heart definitely doesn’t skip a beat. The long wig, the sharp contouring, the eyeliner, it does absolutely nothing for you. You definitely don’t spend a good five minutes contemplating how much you want his lipstick to stain your mouth. Because he’s not your real boyfriend. You’re doing this to minimize the amount of nasty messages you get online. The fact that he’s hot and funny and surprisingly kind and weirdly observant, and god, have you already said hot? Because he tends to walk around your shared hotel room in shorts and little else and it’s really not doing great things for your productivity. 

The point is, all those things are a bonus! A happy little accident, if you will, a positive side-effect of this whole arrangement. Like getting a job and realising that you’ll be working with your brother, who currently is quickly becoming very, very close with your fake boyfriend.

There’s no-one you trust more in the whole world than Douglas, but if you tell him that your relationship is fake, you’ll have to tell him why you’re in a fake relationship, and he’s not above starting an online rampage against people sending his little sister death threats. Which, by the way, you’re not getting a lot of since dating Colson, honestly you might even be getting less than before, so it’s working.

Your absolutely fake relationship with Colson Baker, whom you have no feelings for whatsoever is functioning exactly as intended. 

Except for the fact that when you’re on set, and you see him in costume, smiling, it kind of makes your day. Watching him play drums? He just looks like he’s having so much fun, and you can’t help but be endeared by it! This was outlined as low commitment, high reward, and now your feelings are ruining it for everybody. Well, just for you. Because it’s just a small crush, and he’s your friend, so you’re not going to make it weird.

Which, right now, it isn’t. He hogs the blankets, which you pretend you’re annoyed by, and sets about fifteen different alarms for himself that have you waking up at the crack of dawn so that he can go in early to get his tattoos covered, even though you don’t need to be there until much later than he is. So you grumble into the blankets, and when you get to set there’s always a hot drink waiting for you. 

He’s out most nights, not late enough that he’d need to oversleep to be functioning the next morning, but it’s not uncommon for you to be curled up on your side of the bed, usually scrolling through social media, and he’ll come in, sometimes humming something, sometimes chattering away on the phone. Sometimes he’ll shower, but he always smokes, watching the stars, right before he comes to bed.

Or you’ll join him. 

On the weekends, you’ll grab dinner together after filming, and he’s in his eyeliner, the foundation sometimes a little worse for wear, and you’ll explore the nightlife that LA has to offer, seeing live bands, or going to clubs. Of course, as a famous musician, DJs will pull Colson up into their booth, to play a song or two, and you, without fail, always managed to feel out of place. So you hang back, maybe have a dance, or maybe get a drink, or even just people-watch. You enjoy it, but you enjoy going back to the hotel more.

Tabloids, or the modern equivalent at least, get familiar with your name, and it’s not long before your image starts to change.

About six minutes into a twenty minute ‘tea spilling’ video, the host says your name.

“Now, [Y/N] Booth, DuckDuckBooth, whatever you know her as, has been all over the mainstream media lately because - shock horror - she’s in a relationship with someone with a bad reputation! Because that’s what we love here, ladies and gents; rumours and slander,” the host, a young woman with bleach blonde hair and a thick English accent rolls her eyes, sarcasm dripping from her tongue, “so a bit of a run-down for those who don’t know, [Y/N] is a lifestyle and, I don’t know, entertainment industry insider - YouTuber? She makes videos on what it’s like to work all different jobs in the industry. And her brother’s famous? I think?” She looks to a point off-screen, presumably where her laptop was sitting, letting her look him up. “He was in Jupiter Ascending, he was the weird prince-dude; Douglas Booth, and he was in a bunch of stuff that was only really released in the UK.” 

It cuts to a new shot of the host tucking her hair behind her ears.

“So [Y/N] recently started dating Machine- MG- uh, I don’t know how to say it, it sounds wrong coming from me; Machine Gun Kelly? He’s a rapper I think? He’s been in a few shows on like, streaming services? I don’t know, I don’t know him that well, but apparently he’s one for scandal - allegedly.” She emphasises, before taking a deep breath, “and now he and [Y/N] are working on the same project, and have started dating, like two adults who like each other might start doing!” It’s condescending, as if directly responding to some less than polite criticisms she’s seen online, but she shrugs it off flippantly.

“Anyways, I’ve been following [Y/N] for a while, I’ve seen her recent uploads and Instagram stories and such; they’re cute, okay? I don’t personally enjoy his music, but that’s just my tastes, you know? And I don’t understand all the negativity she’s suddenly receiving; you all know she’s an adult, right? Like not just in the UK, she’s over 21, she’s allowed to go out and drink, and be a human being. It’s not like she’s suddenly become a different person; just because she’s not acting in the way your overly-sanitized view of her should, doesn’t mean she’s a different person, or that she’s corrupted or whatever. She’s not a bad person for enjoying herself.”

“Everyone speculating about whether it’s fake or not, like they have nothing in common, well it’s almost like you don’t know them personally; if it’s fake, who even cares, that’s -” she laughs a little, “that’s Hollywood, isn’t it? I think the people hating on her, or on him, or wanting them to admit it’s fake or just break up, are jealous, honestly, because even if it’s fake, it’s a hell of a commitment.”

“Do you ever worry?” You can’t help but ask, it’s late, much later than you know you should be up, but he’s awake too, yawning, looking at his phone. Both of you tucked up in bed, he takes a moment before looking at you. There’s something about the shadow of eyeliner he hadn’t quite been able to remove that just makes him look edgy and gorgeous.

“I try not to,” he answers candidly, “but about what?”

“About people finding out about us.”

“Usually,” he cracks a half smile, “when a girl asks me that, it’s about people finding out that we are together,” and he’s smiling, but you just frown in the dark, unable to appreciate the humour. 

“What’ll they say? Of course you’ll be fine, but I-” you swallow, shaking your head, “sorry, asshole thing to say; of course I care about what they say about you, just as much me, but -”

“But you’ve got a lot further to fall than I do,” he says with a surprising honesty, and you meet his gaze in the glow of his screen light, “honestly I have no idea how this is gonna end, I thought you did.” And you feel your stomach drop. 

How were you supposed to respond to this?! There is absolutely no way you can say what you’re thinking, that you don’t want this to end because you’ve started to catch real feelings. 

“I’m winging it,” you admit softly. Something about his expression softens, but his screen goes dark before you can see it, “I know you’re a good person but-”

“Then you don’t know me that well, Ducky,” he laughs a little, though the sound is hollow, and you can hear him rustling around as he looks up at the ceiling in the dark, “kid, you don’t know me at all -”

“Don’t call me kid,” you bristle, quietly defiant, but he just seems to ignore you.

“I know I’m a bad dude, okay? And if you want this whole thing to end with everyone thinking I’ve broken your heart, then do it, I’ve been through worse. I’ve done worse; if you wanna just worry about yourself, you can.” 

“So it’s black and white; I’m red riding hood and you’re the big bad wolf? That’s how we end this?”

“You think in fairy tale analogies,” he huffs an almost disbelieving laugh, “I’m just saying that if you didn’t have to be with me, you wouldn’t be; you wanted scandalous but not a scandal, I get it, okay? I’m good at that; good at both, actually, but I guess you’re cute enough that you can pick one and not the other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap, feeling angry, almost betrayed by his callous words. In the dark, you can make out the shape of his silhouette against the stars.

“You’re all clean and shiny and shit, you’ve got a philanthropist big brother, and a life in the entertainment industry without the actual pressure of being an actor, and yeah, YouTube is hard, I get that, now more than anything else, watching you ‘s definitely given me a new appreciation for the effort that goes in, but -”

“But what? It’s not a real job?”

That shuts him up fast. 

Fuming in the dark, you clamber from the bed, and head onto the balcony, slamming the door behind you. The night air is cool and crisp against the warm anger bubbling just beneath your skin, and you take a few deep breaths. Why you’re out here, you’re not sure; you should have gone down the hall and stayed with Douglas, but here you were, cooling off on the balcony. 

You’re in his seat, the seat he always sits in to smoke before bed, and it feels strange, but you’re not going to give up the seat, even as he opens the door. He doesn’t look at you, instead, he leans against the railing, looking out at the ocean glittering with stars.

“I wasn’t -” he starts, before sighing, “fuck, I know it’s a real job, okay?”

But he’s met with silence.

“I was gonna say - fuck, there’s like, a quote thing someone once told me, I think it was Shakespeare or some shit - there’s more things in Heaven and Earth, you know, than are dreamed in your philosophy.” He paused, “I’m dealing with more than just your shit, you know? Every fuckin’ person wants to hate me right now; your shit is small fish, Ducky. If you’re not getting hate, then it’s worth it, okay? And after all of this, I’ll still be averaging the same amount of hate as I always get, not that I give a shit. It’s pebble in a stream stuff.” When again, he’s met with silence, he sighs gently, hanging his head, before heading back inside, though he doesn’t close the door.

On your own, for only a moment, you feel your insides twisting, frustrated at overreacting, heart warming at his words, just a little. 

“Pebble in a stream stuff?” You ask quietly, when he joins you once more, this time with a joint and his lighter.

“Immutable,” he says, voice flat as he focuses on lighting up, before taking a long drag. After a moment of holding the smoke in his lungs, he breathes out, watching it as he speaks, “like a river, if you throw a pebble in, it creates a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do, the river just keeps flowing in the same direction.” 

“Deep,” you muse.

“It’s from X-Men,” he responded, and there’s a beat, before the two of you break out into laughter at the absurdity of it all, of his philosophical ramblings being ripped from a comic book movie, of the idea of the two of you ever getting into this situation in the first place.

When the laughter dies down, you find yourself smiling at him, watching him while his grin is turned up to the stars.

“You say I don’t know you, even though we’ve been doing this for almost a month and a half now; I wanna know you,” you tell him as genuinely as you can manage in your tired state, and he turns to you with an unreadable expression, and you catch yourself before you act on the fluttering in your chest, “to make it more believable.” You add, and he nods, and his gaze goes back to the sky; if it was a little disappointed, you try not to think about it too hard, “so you don’t like cutesy dates like fairs, what do you like?”

Licking his lips as he thinks, he finally turns to you, eyebrow raised.

“Honestly?”

Why does his gaze right now make your pulse race?

“Honestly.” You dare not break his gaze.

“I like going to clubs with you, to see bands and shit,” he tells you, and... oh, you weren’t expecting that. There’s that soft, unreadable expression again, though he seems endeared by your genuine surprise, “but I sometimes get the feeling that you feel, uh, out of place?” He seems concerned.

“I mean, not really, it’s fun and all!” You try, but he gives a smirk.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it -”

“It’s sticky, and it feels weird with all the dudes trying to grind up on me when I’m like, meant to be with you. I always feel like someone’s about to pull out their phone, snap a photo and accuse me of cheating.” You blurt out, and Colson’s expression turned from surprised to amused.

“Stick with me then -”

“I don’t wanna be a bother; I’m not a music person, I shouldn’t be in like, a DJ booth I don’t think.”

“You’re with me, you can go wherever you want.”

The night is cool and crisp, and he’s got an early start, but the two of you sit out there, talking, laughing, actually getting to know each other. He tells you all about Cassie, about how proud he is of her, how much he misses her, and how proud she is of him in turn. You, in turn, tell him stories of yourself and Douglas from your childhood, of how he’d always been your biggest fan, and your first defender, and how you’d been to all of his premieres. At this, Colson’s eyes glaze over a little, lost in thought.

“I have no idea how this is gonna end,” he says gently, before looking to you, “but whenever you wanna call it quits, say the word.”

But you hear I’m read to cut and run at any moment, and you know it’s selfish, but it’s not what you want to hear.

“Thanks,” you respond, with a small smile instead, “same to you; don’t just stick around for my benefit,” you try to laugh, but it doesn’t quite come out right. It’s quiet after that, though it had to be said, and it’s not long before the two of you go to bed.

It’s a turning point, it’s where you start to really try to get to know each other, rather than just being around each other. Maybe it’s just hope, but it feels a little more real with each day that passes.

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today we’ve got a very special guest! And if you’ve read the title of this video, you know who it is! That’s right, my boyfriend is going to try and teach me the basics of drumming!”

The comments of the video tell you that you both look so happy, look so cute, look so in love.

“You’re a good actor,” Colson tells you, as if he believes the starry-eyed looks you give him are a carefully calculated ruse. You, on the other hand, feel like a fool only moments from being outed as being in love with your fake boyfriend, which was ridiculous; he’s the only person who needs to believe it’s a ruse after all.

Even Douglas tells you the video is good, and suddenly you’re starting to feel like an asshole for lying to him for so long.

But it’ll work out. It has to. And neither you nor Colson is gonna be the bad guy. Because he’s not, no matter what he says .

He keeps buying you hot drinks if his alarms wake you up, and he keeps you close whenever you go out, and he gives you a blanket whenever you fall asleep in his trailer during breaks, and -

“Has Duck ever told you about how she found a frog when we were little, like a live frog,” Douglas was grinning over lunch, while you were slowly becoming more embarrassed by Colson's side, your forehead pressed to his shoulder as your brother recounted one of his favourite stories, “and she named it after me, because she was always a bit of a menace, but it got free, and mum and dad almost lost their minds when she came crying about how ‘Doug was missing in the woods!’” He grinned, both fond and a bit sharp, “they only realised she was talking about the frog when I joined the search party after getting home from a friend’s house.”

You heave a sigh, but Colson gives you a gentle, reassuring pat.

“No, that’s fuckin’ adorable, but no she hadn’t told me that; but I had heard about how you made the both of you duck costumes for your school’s Halloween,” and Colson gives him a toothy grin as Douglas flushes with embarrassment, though he seems endeared by the nostalgia of it all, “primary school, was it?”

“Not Halloween, it was a book fair,” Douglas corrected, and you surfaced finally, leaning into Colson, who wrapped an arm around you, and you level a soft smile at your brother, who returns one in kind, before his gaze flicks to Colson’s, and back. A smile. A nod. A silent approval. Fuck, you hate lying to him.

But you’re not above a little white lie to the internet for some advice.

r/AmITheAsshole posted by u/idkquackythrowaway

AITA for falling for my fake boyfriend and lying to my best friend about it?

So hello, throw away account because if either of them find this, I’ll be mortified and have to run away to canada and live as a goat farmer.

So I started ““““dating”“““ my “”””boyfriend””””, let’s call him C, a few months ago, because all of our friends kept accusing us of dating, and it was easier to just go along with it than deny it - there’s a lot of extenuating circumstances here; and yes I have issues lying to my friends, but I can deal with it for the greater good. It’s better for C and me in the short-term anyways.

Anyways so my best friend, D, is someone I’ve never lied to, we’ve always been so incredibly close, but now he’s getting to be good friends with C too, and approves of the two of us, but I’m just worried he’ll be betrayed if I tell him it wasn’t real.

Also, I might have real feelings for C, which he Does Not Have for me, so I feel like I’m betraying him too, by pretending that it’s not fake. ANd I wanna tell D about this, but then I’d have to come clean about everything, which....... its a lot. 

So Am I The Asshole for catching feelings in a fake relationship, and lying to my closest friend about it?

[324 comments]

The reaction is mixed.

And mostly unhelpful.

A lot of people are calling you the asshole, which, ouch, but you had kind of already come to terms with that. A lot more people, however, are just abstaining from making judgement, considering there was definitely more to the story. You’re not sure how to deal with those comments; you want to defend yourself, or give more context, but you also know you absolutely cannot. 

Eventually you decide to come clean.

“I’m in love with Colson.”

About the wrong thing. To the wrong person.

Douglas blinks slowly at you, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“Really?”

“Really really.” You sigh, with an air of defeat, though this has him frowning, putting his fork full of pasta down. 

“What’s wrong, did he do something?” Douglas is playing the protective older brother, just as he has done for as long as you can remember, but it’s all you can do to shake your head.

In truth, Colson’s been fucking perfect; despite his reputation, he’s a fantastic - fake - partner. Perhaps it’s that you work together, so he doesn’t have to find a distraction outside of his main focus. 

“Duckling,” Douglas says it so gentle, taking your hand over the dinner table, “I’m happy for you, as long as you’re happy.” And what can you say to that? Another lie? You feel like you’ll be ill if you let another lie pass your tongue in front of Douglas.

“I love him,” you say, weakly, and you feel your eyes misting at the implication, the reality of your words. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I-” you choke on your words, and tears start to gather, threatening to spill, “I think I love him more than he loves me.” It’s not a lie, but it’s enough for Douglas. 

“I’m sorry,” he sounds so genuine, holding your hand tight in his, finishing dinner, and taking you both back to the hotel. He does the only thing he can think of to cheer you up; put on a movie on his laptop and wrap you up in blankets like he would when you were kids. The movie’s a little outdated, but he’s trying, and that alone makes you feel a little better. 

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today we’ve just got a low-effort video, it’s just a top ten comfort movies from childhood that survive a modern rewatch! As decided by me and Douglas!”

Filming is set to move locations soon, from being on-location on the Sunset Strip to a back-lot about an hour away, somehow closer to the hills, and you feel like you can hear the ticking of a clock counting down.

“When filming’s over, we can end it if you want,” you tell Colson as you’re packing up your suitcases.

“Oh,” he seems surprised.

“Oh?”

“That’s soon,” is all the clarification he gives, but he doesn’t sound happy about it, “are you sure?” 

“I mean, I don’t wanna outstay my welcome,” you try to joke, but he makes a noise that you can’t quite decipher, “what?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Just thought it would maybe go until the premiere.” He admits, and you pause, actually surprised at his words, and he clears his throat, “it would be weird seeing you there if I was with someone else, right?”

“Right,” you muse quietly, before going back to folding your clothes, “that’s a year away still, I’m pretty sure.” You tell him, and he hums, but doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Well I’ve got a few events before then I need a date for,” he says, noncommittally, “and we’ll see each other before then; if you wanna be convincing you can crash at my place if you wanna, in The Hills, at least for a bit, if you ain’t got anything else to do sort of thing,” he actually sounds a bit hesitant, and you swallow hard, before letting yourself smile, pleased.

“I think you like having me around.” When you look at him, he’s trying to hide a smile of his own.

“'course I do.”

[thewaynemanner]

BatFam Favorite Songs and Playlists

Dick Grayson loves anything upbeat he can scream sing along to, but his one true music love will forever and always be 80s Pop music. Not only does it go with his ‘I just got dragged through an 80s costume wardrobe’ aesthetic, but 80s Pop songs are the best to scream sing along to. His 80s Pop Trinity is Cyndi Lauper, Madonna, and ABBA. Currently, his favorite songs are Y.M.C.A by Village People, -Jason: “Jesus Dick, how could Y.M.C.A be your favorite song?” Dick: “I like bending into all the letters!”- Girls Just Want to Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper, and Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) by ABBA. Dick also knows all the words to (and has choreography for) all the songs in Grease. He even once convinced Jason to song along as Danny in You’re the One That I Want. Dick’s Guilty Pleasure Song: Barbie Girl by Aqua.

Dick Grayson’s Playlist

 Jason likes music that makes Bruce extremely uncomfortable, like Rap (for its explicit language) and any song that can be used to reference his death. But when Bruce isn’t around, Jason prefers a wide range of rock, from rockabilly to classic rock to punk rock, Jason loves it all. His favorite rock artists respectively are Johnny Cash, Queen, and My Chemical Romance. Jason’s favorite songs are I Won’t Back Down by Johnny Cash, Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, and I Don’t Love You by MCR. When Bruce is around to annoy, Jason enjoys blasting Hood Go Crazy by 2 Chainz, -Bruce: “I don’t think this is an appropriate song to be playing in the Batcave, Jason.” Jason: “Well Bruce, I didn’t think that letting the Joker live after he killed me was “appropriate”, so agree to disagree.” Bruce: *feels migraine coming on*- and Arms Tonite by Mother Mother -*I died in your arms tonight. I slipped through into the afterlife. It was nice* Alfred: “Master Jason, don’t you think that’s a tad insensitive?” Jason: “Sorry Alfie, but Bruce is kinda insensitive”- Jason’s Guilty Pleasure Song is Pocketful of Rainbows by Elvis Presley, it was the song that Bruce used to sing to him after he’d had a nightmare to get him to go back to sleep. 

Jason Todd’s Playlist

Tim at this point only listens to DiscoTech/ElectroPop because it’s the only music with a beat strong enough to keep him awake. His favorite songs are Boss Bitch by Doja Cat, Play With It by Tommy Genesis, and Rich Bitch Juice by Alice Longyu Gao -*Some people say I look very sad I’m just having my resting bitch face ‘Cause man, I’m tired I’m tired, I’m so fucking tired Drinking my rich bitch juice* Tim: *sipping his rich Bitch Juice* “Mood.” Dick: *Gasp* “Timmy… That most definitely should not be a 'mood’.” Tim: *shrugs and continues to crush up caffeine pills and add them to his coffee* Tim’s Guilty Pleasure Song -Damian: *grumbling* “All his songs should be considered guilty pleasure songs”- is Ken Doll by Gameboi. 

Tim Drake’s Playlist

Damian grew up listening to classical music and doesn’t understand how what his brothers listen to can even be considered music. Damian’s favorite composer -Damian: “Yes, singular composer because you can’t have multiple favorites, Drake. That’s like saying my favorite brothers are Grayson, Todd, and you, when it’s obviously just Grayson”- is Frédéric Chopin. Three classical pieces he is fond of are 24 Preludes, Op.28: No.4 in E Minor by Frédéric Chopin, Comptine d’un autre été, l’apres-midi by Yann Tierson, and Hallelujah (Arr. Cello & Strings) by Leonard Cohen & et al. -Tim: “Honestly surprised the Imperial Death March wasn’t on his list, was pretty sure that was constantly playing in his head.” Jason: “Same.”- Damian’s Guilty Pleasure Symphony is Hedwig’s Theme by John Williams. Jason: “He gets all teary-eyed when he listens to it.” Damian: “I do not, Todd! If you keep spreading such slander, I will eviscerate you.” 

Damian Wayne’s Playlist

 Alfred is quite fond of the Beach Boys, the Beatles, and Elton John. His favorite songs are Let It Be by the Beatles, Bennie and the Jets by Elton John, and Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) by John Lennon. The later he is quite partial to because it always brings back memories or a younger Master Bruce. -Dick: Awww! Bruce is blushing, Alfie!-  Alfred’s Guilty Pleasure Song is When We Were Young by Adele. Selina: *Quirking an eyebrow* Alfred: “I haven’t a clue why you look surprised Ms. Kyle. Ms. Adele is a woman of exceptional talent, I would be a fool not to see that.”

Alfred Pennyworth’s Playlist

Selina loves blues and soul. Her favorite artists are Etta James, Joy Crookes, and Amy Winehouse. Three of her favorite songs are Mother May I Sleep with Danger by Joy Crookes, Me and Mr. Jones by Amy Winehouse, and Hell N Back by Bakar (that she heard for the first time when Bruce sang it to her at their engagement party). - Damian: “Kyle’s choice in music is adequate I suppose.” Selina: *trying to smother a smile* - Guilty Pleasure Song: Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC. Selina: *winking at Bruce* Bruce: *Turning a violent shade of red* Tim: “Alfred, I think Selina broke Bruce!”

Selina Kyle’s Playlist

Bruce is a man of classic jazz, easy listening, and rockabilly; his favorite singers are Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Elvis Presley. He’s had the same favorite three songs for the past five years, My Way by Frank Sinatra, Blue Moon by Dean Martin, and Pocketful of Rainbows by Elvis Presley. -Jason: “You’re such a sap, Old Man-“ Guilty Pleasure Song: Hurt by Johnny Cash. -Selina: “Oh no you don’t, you and I both know that’s not your true guilty pleasure.” Bruce: “Selina, please don’t…” Selina: “War Pigs by Black Sabbath. He’s a closeted metal head.”  Bruce: “Selina, you’re suppose to love me.” Selina: “Oh I do, but I also love torturing you too.” *high fives Jason*  Bruce: “It was a phase Selina!”

Bruce Wayne’s Playlist 

[kiatheinsomniac]

Huntress VI

Huntress Masterlist: [CLICK HERE]

The light slanted down onto the market from between the rooves and alleys of the Venetian houses, light reflecting off the surfaces of the canals and casting shadows everywhere else simultaneously. She observed from the corner of her hood, shifting from foot to foot on the cobbled path as she idly turned an orange over in her hand, feeling all the pores of its skin as she counted down slowly in her head.

'Five. . . Four. . . Three. . . Two. . . One. . .'

There he was, the guard, right on the dot - the same one who had doubted her vampire-hunting abilities solely for the fact that she was a woman. She looked back down at the stall, not wishing to be recognised. Having grown much too humiliated in her borrowed courtesan attire, (Y/n) had borrowed a spare set of Ezio's clothes while he was in the basement of their new hideout: a villa belonging to a trader and his family who were currently away for a wedding in Rome. (Y/n) and Ezio would be able to camp out there for a week until they were back.

The Assassin's robes were much too big on her: the shirt still too large despite being tucked into the trousers which were held up by the borrowed belt and had to be rolled up at the ankles. The brown cloak was stolen from a washing line and the shoes were taken from the family home they were resting in - and she was careful to not be spotted because these certainly weren't running shoes.

The huntress had one current objective: plot her route into the Duca's villa to retrieve her things. Apparently, the guards were on high alert and Ezio's contact was unable to acquire (Y/n)'s belongings. Part of her wanted to kill the Duca while she was there too: throw a knife from the door while he slept, guarded by two men but she knew that this plan would only result in failure: she didn't have that set of skills.

She placed the orange down on the market stall and eyed up the guards stationed around the villa again. If the night routine was the same, she should have a window of time to make her way into the ground floor through a window.

"Three oranges, please." She requested of the vendor as she pulled a coin purse from her pocket. The money was Ezio's and she was calling it 'borrowed' to make herself feel better about it. Given the nature of their relationship, he wasn't in much of a position to reprimand her anyway.

She pressed the coins into the man's hands as she continued to observe the patrols from her peripheral, turning her head down when a group of guards passed her, heading straight to the villa to take over the shift. She watched as they replaced the ones who had previously been on duty, a smug grin pulling at the corners of her lips as the three oranges were handed to her, wrapped in a creme fabric.

♰♰♰

When (Y/n) returned it was with a head full of new ideas, a heart full of determination and a hand full of oranges. She quietly closed the backdoor of the house (they were using that route to avoid being seen by the neighbours) and made her way to the bedroom they were camped out in when she walked in on a most surprising sight. Her eyes widened and she quickly turned around, hands clutching the fruits within them.

"So is this whole seeing each other almost naked something you vampires do? Because I'm not so sure that I'm fond of it." She spoke and heard a sigh behind her.

"Well, if someone hadn't taken my clothes, I wouldn't be like this and if someone hadn't taken my money, I would have been able to buy new ones." She heard the flat tone from behind her, making her laugh awkwardly. It wasn't a nervous laugh or a dry one: it was the sort that was created to fill space, to try and call attention to itself to try and clear away another subject. Her eyes skimmed down to the terracotta-coloured tiles and the off-white walls with their large extravagant portraits that stretched down the main hall, statues dotted between them. A dark red carpet ran along the middle of the floor as well.

"Well, if your contact had been able to retrieve my stuff, I wouldn't have had the need to borrow these things. I need a- are you decent yet?" She cut herself off, finding it too uncomfortable to talk to him with her back turned.

"I don't have anything to wear."

"The sheets!" She snapped in response. She waited to hear the rise and fall of fabric shuffling before turning around, seeing that he had only covered his legs. It wasn't like he was entirely naked - he had underwear on - but it was far too little for (Y/n)'s liking. She glanced over to the curtains which fluttered lightly in the breeze, the window must have been open.

He was seated on the grand four-poster bed and it's dull white silken sheets. The room was rather bare other than a vanity, a desk and a wardrobe - all of which were mostly empty seeing as this was a guest room.

"What happened to your clothes anyway?" She mused as she set the oranges down on the bedside and tossed his coin purse back to him, noting the look of disdain on his face at noticing she had spent his money. "Look, it may not be important to you but eating is very important to me." She added.

"There's a passage under the villa that leads to a canal, it's dark but it's a good way to travel in the daytime for someone like me. What I hadn't anticipated was the guard at the end of the tunnel who managed to push me into the water during our fight." (Y/n) thought over his words before a bigger picture became apparent in her mind.

"When was the last time you. . ." She trailed off, not quite knowing how to put it in a non-alarmed way. She shot him an almost warning glance from the corner of her (e/c) eyes. He shot her a questioning look and she made her way over to the window, peeking out from the edge of the curtains and spotting his clothes laid on the sill. She held onto the velvet fabric, caressing its softness with her fingertips. An unspoken threat.

"Fed?" He questioned, seeing the witch nod her head in response, he sighed and held his hands in his lap, leaning forwards. "Too long ago." She knew that it had been almost three weeks now. He must be starving.

"Do you plan on. . . I mean, I'd rather it be someone else than me." She debated over making a joke of this, showing her trust by following this up with a laugh and walking over to the screen to change out of his clothes. But she didn't trust him yet so she followed it up with a serious gaze, fingers wrapping around the edge of the dark and heavy curtain.

"I was planning on going out tonight." He replied.

"What time will you be back?" She quizzed, perhaps trying to make such a dark subject seem more casual, to seem more about concern for him than for whoever he would kill later that day. She didn't ask it the way someone would interview a murderer, how would one even go about that? No.

"Don't wait, I won't be back until just before the sunrise." (Y/n) scoffed, knowing what it meant if he would be back so late.

"We have work to do and you're going to play games?" She raised a brow and watched his face contort into offence.

"Look, it may not be important to you but eating is very important to me." He quoted her own words from earlier.

"Yes but I don't sleep with my food before I eat it." She threw back, "I know how Elizabetta was found. Most of your kind like to play some sort of sick game before you go for the kill, something to get the blood pumping." She sneered, realising that that disdain no longer sounded natural in her voice, it was becoming more forced now - a part of her that she thought was so important to her life that she almost didn’t want to let go of it, even if she knew she had to.

She knew she was now swinging, like a pendulum, between trying to earn his trust and reverting to what had almost become an instinctual prejudice. In the past, she always spoke so lowly of vampires, always slandered them at every given chance, so hellbent on revenge. Now that she owed her life to one, it didn't feel right.

"At least I'm more civil about it - I could make them fear for their lives with a chase in the woods." He replied as he stood up, tucking the sheet around his waist and walking towards her, delicately taking her wrist and drawing her hand away from the looming threat of the curtain.    

"Yes, because-" She began sarcastically before cutting herself off. Even if she disagreed, it wouldn't help anything to voice that aloud. What they needed right now was to be able to trust one another. He had drawn her hand closer to him, thumb caressing her wrist and she curled her fingers inwards, hesitantly tugging her own hand back to her side, feeling him press down on her pulse before his eyes met hers and he realised that he may be putting her in a fight or flight position.

And he had learned already that she was the fighting type.

"I need to ask a favour of you. . ." She began, making her way back across the room and tossing her stolen cloak onto the foot of the bed.

"What is it?"

"I need you to steal something for me: the uniform of one of the Duca's guards." Her (e/c) eyes flitted to their corners where she caught how his brows shot up.

"Why? May I ask?" He spoke as he checked the dampness of his clothes, being mindful to keep his skin away from the sunlight.

"I want to break in, that's why." She replied in a cold tone, the stinging of her feet and the bite of rope against her wrists reforming in her memory, "I want my belongings back and I'll set the bastard's chambers alight if I'm able." She paused as the picture of it formed in her mind: the smoke pluming from the window she would leave open, allowing it to rise up like a beacon; a sign to the man who had used her then tried to kill her once she became an inconvenience - him and everyone else in this group she still felt that she knew too little about. "I want him to be afraid." A silence hung over the room, a pensive one.

"Do you know how to pickpocket?" Ezio spoke up and she could hear him retreat to the far side of the room, securely tucked away from any possible venturing sunlight.

"Why would I need to?" She returned with a small glance over her shoulder in his direction.

"So you can stop stealing my money and start stealing someone else's." He replied with a laddish smile, watching in delight as she rolled her eyes but returned his comment with a hesitant smile of her own. "If you truly want to make use of yourself, I'll leave you in the hands of a friend of mine. She'll teach you some skills that will come in handy if you wish to stay with me until we can finish off the Duca."

"And this friend? Is he a vampire too?" (Y/n) knew that she could handle Ezio and that he could tolerate her but she knew that her sharp tongue and developed vampiric disdain could get her into trouble with anyone else of his kind kind.

"She is very much human. More of a political ally than one of kin." He responded as he sat back down at the foot of the bed.

"What will she teach me? Other than pickpocketing?" The witch spoke as she seated herself down on a stool by the unlit fireplace, glancing at the ashen pit and somewhat wanting to light it, with the autumn chill snaking in through the open window.

"How to climb, keep your balance over rooftops-"

"What need do I have for-"

"Even how to climb right into the Duca's window." He continued, playing to her wish to set fire to the man's room as he had ordered for her to be burned. He could see the intrigue in her eyes now, the way she looked up from beneath her lashes.

"It's probably best that you start making contacts in Venice seeing as you've lost all of them now."

"The word 'lost' doesn't quite seem to portray that they tried to execute me. . . with fire." She replied with a sigh and an undertone of bitterness at the memory.

"How have your legs been feeling?" He asked out of concern. It often slipped his mind just how fragile she was compared to him. He watched as part of her dropped a little and she brought her legs up on the stool with her, crossing them.

"I don't think that the scars that will go away. The worst of it is at my ankles but some of them stretch up my calves a bit." She bit down on her lip and one of her hands went to rub at the puckered flesh there under her socks, having already toed off her stolen shoes. "My legs feel better though, stronger than they were at the start of this anyway. I hope your friend will go easy on me." She added a laugh at the end of the phrase but it came out drily - Ezio could tell that she was still thinking about her injuries. Perhaps, he thought, she didn't even care that she would have to live with a memento of it for the rest of her life; perhaps it was because she could live with them while all those in her coven died with them.

They passed the next hour in conversation before (Y/n) made her way to the drawing-room where a shelf of books had caught her interest the previous day. She nestled herself in the window seat (with the curtains drawn, of course) and began reading a copy of Illiad.

A good amount of pages in, the shimmer of a blade caught her attention from her peripheral. There stood Ezio, in his clothes once more, with one sword at his hip and the other being held out to her in offering.

"What? Want to lose?" (Y/n) mused with a teasing grin on her lips as she set the book down.

"You haven't practised in weeks. I've been keeping up." He reminded her as she took the blade and rolled her shoulders, getting into a fighting stance as he drew his own blade from his hip.

"You don't forget how to wield a sword." She began before darting towards him, using the element of surprise by attacking halfway through the phrase.

The clash of steel rang through the room until it grew dark and (Y/n) grew tired. She fell down into the bed of the guest room they had selected for their stay (they tried to keep to as few rooms as possible in order to avoid leaving any trace of their presence in the house). The witch had grown exhausted from so many hours of sparring.

She looked to the end of the bed where Ezio was now fastening his belt and armour of his robes. But her body was now both weakened and tired and she rolled over, bringing the blankets around her figure as she did so.

Ezio made his way to where she lay and reached for the thicker comforter at the end of the bed, throwing it over her body to keep her warm, knowing that her body was much more prone to the cold than his. Her eyes remained closed and her breathing had now slowed as her head sank into the softness of the pillow which lulled her to sleep. The man reached his hand out to brush the hair back from her (s/t) complexion before cupping her jaw, leaning down to press his cold lips to her warm cheek which only grew warmer as her nose scrunched up a little and she turned her head into the pillow more.

"Go and get something to eat." She murmured and he hummed, almost not wanting to leave her. It was rare for him to see her so peaceful, he had stood in the doorway for a few minutes just to admire her reading before offering to spar earlier for this very same reason.

With reluctance, his hand fell from her warm skin and he vanished into the Venetian night.

[alexoreality]

This is a story not INRL

Some dialouge

This is a story not INRL

So yeah

Lets go for an emotional ride!

Inspired by: Todoroki's child hood!

"There's something i need to tell you, Babs.." Richard hesitantly said, damn those acting classes were so helpful! "But please make sure you're alone!" he practically screamed, but His bestfriend knew he was just doing a prank.

"Yes i am, what's wrong?" She lied! She was currently Oracle and was about to send the new YJ, Jon, Kon and the Bat Brothers to a mission.

"Well, i'm moving to Russia..." but in truth he was only gonna stay there for a week for a vacation! She faked a gasp, and the team was struggling to stay quiet but they were heard by Richard and he knew then and there, he needed to do it

Initiate: MOVING AWAY PRANK! HEHEHEHEH

"I- i just can't anymore! Okay?!" ohohoo~

Things were getting spicy! The Bat brothers were stunned YES even Jason, Damian, the current Robin, however was listening, trying to see if it was just some sort of joke but since Richard took those acting Classes VERY seriously.

"Batman...I can't even start with him!" as that was said, Batman walked into the room without no one noticing( amazing right?)

"He..He- he's given me the worse childhood anyone has to offer, and up until now, i know he doesn't want me near him, he just took me out of pity!" He cried crocodile tears

Oracle also wanting to spice things up replied "Well, maybe you can like talk it out?" "No! Then there's Jason!" The said person freezed, "He keeps on insulting me and it hurts! Ever since his 'death' i wanted to spend time with him, but he pushes me away! I know i did that to him too, but i wanted to change!" Richard was venting to his bestfriend,

And Jason/RedHood didn't move, his Helmet covering his face but inside the helmet was another story.

"And then Tim.....Timmy...He was so kind and sweet....But then he started to avoid me, i shrugged it off at first, but....He- i..." Richard pretended he couldn't find the right words, while Red Robin's knees sank to the floor, while His elder Brother kept venting

"And Damian" Robin froze, what did he do wrong? Was he gonna get punished? No, this was his Punishment, the only person that could truly trust and love him, was getting hurt by HIM of all people! Why did he always hurt the people that might be able to accept him?

"I can't, everytime i try to look at his face i don't see the boy that would die for any type of animal!" He said as he was 'trembling'. "I only see his Father! Day by day, Night by Night, he's turning more into him! I swear, Babs, i'm loosing my mind!" Richard only used the nickname.

Batman, then walked out of the room to the Zeta tubes and into the Batcave there he sat infront of the Bat computer, he removed his cowl and cried silently, crap

He hadn't cried like this since his parents death.

Robin was being comforted by his friend Superboy as he cried unshedded tears

Red Robin passed out and had needed to be taken to the Medical wing since he be an Insomniac.

Red Hood stood there not realisibg everyone left, Oracle wheelChaired to him and led him to a couch for him to sit down.

Robin the tensed, Jon sensing his friends sudden alertness "Hey what's wrong?" He asked "We- Jon we can still catch up to him!" Robin used his name...."what do you mean?? The plane might've tooken off by now!" Jon reasoned

"He didn't give up on me, I WON'T GIVE UP ON HIM!" That startled the half kryptonian, "Well, whadda you know, He did tame him :D"

Robin was now full of Determination (HELL YEAH, UNDERTALE REFFERENCE!) as he glided yes Glided! He didn't stomp for once (Really me?) "HOOD! Get your ass up, we can still catch up to him!" Red hood doesn't seem convinced. "DO YOU WANT TO APOLOGISE TO HIM OR WHAT?!" Red Hood then jumped to his feet, he wasn't expecting that, espeacially from a 14 y/o kid! "Well, then pull ya shit together and follow my lead!" Robin growled,

Meanwhile

'Did he just use slander-' Jon thought.

To be continued

[timeisacephalopod]

Oh can you do like an expansion of the Celestiall Peter werewolf Bucky and dragon Tony. Like its Halloween and they're talking about what bullshit it is for people to dress up when any other time they'd be scared of what they go dressed as. I love those 3 together. Oh and a Rhodey cameo!!

I think this means as an extension of a story I wrote for my AO3 awhile ago in which the boys all went to uni and lived in the same house called Bad Habits (were you the person who posted a comment on one of my stories the other day? Anyways). You won’t need the original story for context for this! Just know Tony/ Peter Q/ and Bucky are a thing. This is a long boi, prepare!

*

“Can I use you as a costume?” Peter asks and Bucky glares so hard at him Tony thinks its a wonder he didn’t fall over dead. And Peter wasn’t even talking to Bucky.

“I’m a dragon, not a costume,” he says.

“You know with all those ads about humans not dressing up as caricatures of other cultures someone is really missing the opportunity to also throw out that dressing up as another species is not cool. I don’t look like a single fucking werewolf costume idiot humans sell,” Bucky snaps. Tony and Peter stare at him for a moment, not exactly surprised by the outburst by now.

Turns out he’s sensitive to Halloween as a holiday. “Yeah, so anyways can I use you as a costume?” Peter asks.

“I have had a total of three relationships with humans and all three ran off when I told them I was a werewolf and one of them tried to kill me before running. Then humans have the fucking gall to go out dressed as werewolves? I should eat them out of spite,” Bucky mumbles, glaring at the wall across from him.

“What the hell are you dressing up as to need a dragon?” Tony asks.

“Daenerys from Game of Thrones,” Peter says and Tony rolls his eyes.

“So you want me to be your dragon slave for a night?” he snaps.

Peter sighs, “the dragons like her, Tony. Its not offensive.”

He throws his hands up, “it is so and people think its fine to desecrate an entire species because I’m one of five left in the world and the only one who’s pointing out how ignorant that show is! Dragons don’t have mothers! Wait, yeah they do, but there is no mother of dragons!”

Bucky nods, “see what I mean? You owe him an apology,” Bucky tells Peter, who rolls his eyes theatrically.

“Dude, its a costume. Relax about it.”

Tony and Bucky exchange a look and turn back to Peter. “If you don’t get the hell out of my sight I’m going to light your ass on fire,” Tony tells him.

Peter, true to his being an utter dickhead, turns himself invisible because apparently celestials can do that. “Can I use you as a costume?” he asks, prompting a rather loud growl from Bucky.

*

Luis gives Peter an offended look that has Scott’s eyes going wide as he turns away a little, putting his hand in front of his face in a poor attempt at hiding himself. “That is the rudest shit I ever heard- Scott are you hearing this? You can’t just go up and ask dragons to be costumes, he’s a person, not a prop. All those ads we see about not dressing up as stereotypes of other culture but no one points out dressing up as another species is not cool,” Luis says. He takes a breath and, thankfully, Bucky cuts in before his rant can continue.

“Right? Humans hate werewolves except when they can dress up as them and claim its not offensive because they’re appreciating us or whatever. If you appreciated werewolves than you’d lobby for werewolf rights, not wear an ugly ass fake fur mask!” He shakes his head, clearly pissed off about this.

“Guys, I just want a cool costume,” Peter says, hands in the air a little.

Luis crosses his arms over his chest, “then go make one, you don’t need a dragon to make a cool costume. I’m going as a Dorito- totally inoffensive and also a delicious treat.”

“I’m offended by Doritos,” Peter says because he’s a prick. “They’re gross and taste like cardboard, and also they’re in the shape of triangles, which means they’re the product of the Devil and also the Illuminati.”

Luis turns to Scott like he’s about to give backup, which he doesn’t. “Okay you know what, get out of here with that false equivalence- you finding dumb reasons to be offended is not the same as turning a whole species into a joke for your own amusement while also ignoring the harm that comes to those creatures all for the sake of a dumb joke. Also what the hell kind of Doritos are you eating that taste like cardboard? It is not a Dorito’s fault that you don’t know how to read expiration dates or that you leave them out too long. Things get stale Quill, like your stale ass attitude and I will not tolerate this Dorito slander-”

“Ooookay,” Scott says, “someone needs to take a nap, or do some homework, or binge eat too many Skittles and throw up again. We’ll be out of your hair now,” he says, dragging Luis away.

“What? I am not doing the Skittle thing again- I learned my lesson. Scott, they need my help, humans have to do their part to-” his words are cut off by the basement door slamming shut. Tony snickers, pleased that they decided that in a house full of supernatural creatures maybe a couple humans weren’t a bad plan. Bucky had been worried Scott might try and kill him, Tony has no idea why he focused on Scott though to be fair Luis is about as non-threatening as they come, and Natasha isn’t fond of humans either but they didn’t want to be discriminatory.

Now it turns out that had been a pretty amusing choice thanks to all of Luis’ rants about everything from Romeo and Juliet to Elvish and why it was a difficult language to learn. And, apparently, why dressing up as a supernatural creature was an asshole thing to do

*

Peter looks down at Bucky, walking faithfully by his side while Tony perches on his shoulder. “You two are going to learn that humans aren’t terrible and I’m going to win this bet,” he tells them. Honestly, they both made a such a huge deal out of a fun holiday and also Peter now has the best costume ever even if Daenerys doesn’t have a dire wolf. Bucky still makes a cool piece of show authenticity even if he’s not at all happy of being part of a costume.

Bucky, as if hearing his thoughts, glares up at him. “Don’t look at me like that, humans will love you,” he says, patting Bucky’s head. Bucky growls a little and trots a little ahead of him and Peter leaves him to sulk in peace.

On his shoulder Tony reaches out and smacks him with one of scaly paws and Peter wrinkles his nose. “Don’t be like that,” he tells Tony, who promptly smacks him again. It doesn’t even hurt, like when a cat smacks you, so Peter doesn’t even know what the point of this is.

When they get inside he at least gets the recognition he deserves because hello, he has an actual dragon with his costume. And Bucky is cool also he guesses. “Where did you find a lizard that looks like that?” someone asks, smiling at Tony. He looks unimpressed by this and frankly Peter has to wonder who the hell thinks the average lizard his brown eyes and red and gold scales.

“He’s a dragon,” Peter says.

The girl in front of him snorts, “yeah, I got your costume, but what kind of lizard is he?”

Peter resists the urge to roll his eyes. “No, he’s an actual dragon. Like the species. Kinda small, but being pocket sized makes him easier to cart around all night so,” he says, shrugging. Tony slaps him again, clearly annoyed with the comment on his size but Peter can’t help that Tony fits in the hoods of his sweaters and when he’s not being a dick he thinks being carried around in there is fun.

“Aww, you’re so cute!” she says, reaching out to touch him and Tony, predictably, smacks her hand away. Bucky makes his presence known by shoving himself between Peter and his current companion in what he thinks is a bad attempt to defend Tony but whatever. Peter takes a step back though.

“You don’t pet dragons, oils on human’s skin doesn’t react well to their scales,” he says. At least, he thinks, Tony didn’t decide to start screaming like he usually did when people tried to pet him. And what is with that? He’s a damn lizard, not a cat, you don’t pet lizards. Well okay, some lizards are fine with it but still. 

“Well you got him up there somehow,” she says.

This time he does roll his eyes, “I’m not human.” Being a celestial means he can avoid damaging oils and also that he can work as a heat lamp for Tony. He had tested that on a whim and it worked so that was pretty cool, not that it comes in handy now. 

“Then what are you?” she asks, squinting like she can tell just looking at him. Bucky growls, hackles raised and honestly the question is annoying but not worth the growl. Peter flicks his ear and Bucky whirls on him unimpressed.

“A celestial,” he says.

“The hell is a celestial?” she asks.

He lets out a long sigh, “basically a god. Don’t look at me like that, we can build whole planets if we want to.” His asshole dad had one that was really cool before Peter found out about all his dead siblings. Bucky lets out another annoyed growl and Peter flicks his ear again. Damn werewolves, always so touchy.

“I think your dog is pissed off,” she says and Peter grabs Bucky’s snout before he does something he’ll regret in the morning.

“Not a dog, that’s a werewolf,” he says quickly. Bucky growls and Peter doesn’t let go of his mouth.

Thankfully his companion jumps back a little. “Why the hell would you bring a werewolf in public?” she asks, giving Bucky a panicked look.

Peter rolls his eyes so hard its a wonder they didn’t roll right out the door. “Because he’s a North American werewolf and they’re fucking harmless unless people say dumb offensive shit,” he says. The European brand of werewolf? Nightmare fuel, but they also know how to handle themselves. North American werewolves? Usually non-confrontational and lazy. Also very soft even if they shed a stupid amount of hair everywhere even when human. Peter has made peace with the hair and Tony’s occasional shed scale.

“Dumb offensive shit like what?” she asks. “Everyone knows werewolves eat people.”

Peter yanks Bucky back by the snout, which is probably a little mean but its either that or he eats someone out of spite and he’s going to regret that if he does it. “North American werewolves don’t eat people and even European werewolves will try for a damn deer or some shit first. That’s the dumb offensive shit I mean, along with calling him a dog. What the hell do you think werewolves look like, the shit you see on Teen Wolf?” Because they kind of look like Klingons and Peter kind of feels bad for laughing now but Bucky’s offended face had been so funny.

“Its my fault I didn’t know that,” she says and Peter squints.

“Its in literally every pro werewolf anything ever, if you didn’t know that you didn’t god damn Google it. If you’re going to spout offensive shit at least make it true. Like werewolves leave hair everywhere and yeah, they lick their ass sometimes.” Bucky yanks his muzzle free and gives him a look. “Don’t pull that shit, I’ve seen it happen.”

Bucky looks away, ears pulling back a little in shame. He might not be a dog by any stretch of the imagination but Peter is happy they at least share enough in common that their body language is basically the same, if more advanced in showing emotion in favor of werewolves.

*

Bucky curls up on Peter’s bed with Tony in his fur shivering as he tries to get warm but fur isn’t going to help him so Peter pulls him out, tucking him into his chest as his hands light up. Benefits of having godlike powers- hands that double as heat lamps. Tony stops shivering so hard and Peter sighs. “Okay, you two win. Humans are the worst and I honestly can’t believe I had to tell seven separate people that you can’t just pet dragons.” They didn’t even ask.

Bucky lets out an annoyed noise, lifting his head to glare at Peter. “Sorry so many people called you a dog and said you eat people,” he mumbles. “Mind going to get Tony some fruit? He’s been in the cold awhile.” Bucky slinks off the bed and Peter climbs into it, upping the heat going to his hands to warm Tony up faster.

When Bucky returns he’s carrying an assortment of fruits, “I told you this was a bad idea,” he says and Peter nods.

“Yup. And I didn’t listen like an idiot. I maintain that I had a cool costume until humans off and ruined it by trying to pet Tony though. What is he, a cat?” Bucky snickers as he climbs into bed, shimmying close to Peter. It betrays more than his words- werewolves are tactile creatures and when they’re mad they refuse to touch each other. Its kind of funny to watch them all get mad and avoid contact like they’re all repelled by each other.

Still, if Bucky isn’t avoiding contact he’s not that mad at Peter. “Here,” Bucky says to Tony, extending a grape towards his mouth. Tony takes the grape gleefully, destroying it in seconds. Bucky hands him a strawberry next. “I didn’t know you knew that much about werewolves,” he says as Tony destroys another berry. Jesus he eats those things fast.

“Yeah, I Googled them. Not that hard,” he says. Phrase of the fucking night- he swears he explained the most basic of shit to people like twelve times over.

“The difference between North American werewolves and European werewolves isn’t information that’s easy to find. Most don’t even make a distinction anymore,” Bucky murmurs. He hands Tony some pineapple and Tony pulls his head back. Bucky rolls his eyes and eats it himself, handing Tony a piece of watermelon that he happily takes instead.

“Yeah, because European werewolves were hunted to near extinction during witch trials in Europe. Seems kind of stupid considering it was never werewolves starting genocides and lighting people on fire. Except that one time in South Africa but that didn’t go well,” he says. Bucky frowns and he sighs, “I got stuck in a Googling suck hole. Did the same with dragons. Its how I figured out the hands thing,” he says, jostling Tony a little and earning a sharp yell for it. “Don’t be rude,” he tells Tony.

Bucky moves in closer, wrapping an arm around Peter. “That’s so sweet. Don’t ever convince me to be a Halloween costume again.”

Peter snickers, “next year I’ll let you eat people and Tony can light them on fire then we cal all fuck off to a planet I’ve made,” he says.

Bucky frowns, “can you even do that?”

Peter shrugs, “I’ve got a year to figure it out.”

Bucky looks at Tony, who happily takes another grape from his fingers. “Pretty sure he’ll be fine as long as there’s fruit.”

“Well, considering ninety percent of his diet is fruit yeah, I’d say so. I should try and make new fruit, that would be cool,” he says, grinning. Tony looks up at him, eyes wide with excitement and he laughs. “Guess I have a new botany project.”

“Well, so long as you stop pissing off the neighbors with plants that flip them off,” he says. Rude, Peter thinks those are fun and their neighbors are a bunch of uptight assholes.

[onestepfcrward]

inbox. || the world just loves to hate me.

@shadowsceptered​ said: ❛ who did this to you? ❜

— short angst sentence starters. ( no longer accepting. )

   Pointed ears twitch at the voice, but otherwise his silhouette remains still. His hood is pulled down, mask discarded on the desk. Odd, one would think that he’d be a little more concerned about his identity being discovered like this. That, and well... it was hard to remain relaxed when Mephiles the Dark was present. Of course, if anyone was going to discover the hybrid’s true whereabouts, it didn’t surprise him much that the demon had. Tch. Probably here to gloat. Rub the current state of the world in his face, no doubt. 

   Shadow didn’t have the patience right now, for there was a grave he was currently trying to dig himself out of. Everything as he knew it was caving in on him. His face, mascaraed by ineffective copies who slandered what little good reputation he had. And Dr. Eggman nearly had the world in his clutches. This wasn’t just his promise on the line anymore. His livelihood. His team. Sonic. Infinite had gone and made it personal. And Shadow was more than happy to return the favor.

   His fingers pause over the keypad. The large, cracked monitor screen above them showing numerous files and documents detailing some kind of red and purple gemstone. He spares the demon a glance, lids lowered from perpetual mental exhaustion. 

   “ ...Doesn’t matter. He’ll be dead soon enough. ”

[lananiscorner]

Post Crisis Red Hood and Batfam Interactions - Part 3: Tim in Teen Titans Vol 3 29

Next up, we have an issue with Tim. Here’s a fun fact: PCPR!Jason never called Tim ‘pretender’. Or ‘replacement’. Not once.

We start with Tim in the Titans Tower, trying to figure out how to proceed in a mission when Jason appears and all but spells out his gripes with there being a new Robin for Tim: Jason came from nothing, trained as hard as he could, did everything Bruce wanted, and was still slandered as the bad / ‘not tough enough’ Robin, while Tim, whose had a pretty easy life before Robin, gets all the praise. So Jason has come to find out whether Tim is really tough enough.

A fight ensues between the two of them. Jason refuses to accept that Tim legitimately managed to work out Bruce’s identity without Bruce letting him do so. Tim disagrees and he does get in a punch or two, but in the end, Jason is the better fighter. It is at this point that we see that Jason is not just motivated by jealousy here. He openly calls out Bruce on his emotional manipulation of his charges, which is not just made up - he does have a very good point there: Batman, at least in the mid-2000s, frequently manipulates and even mistreats his allies - and also tells Tim that he’s gonna show him what Joker did to Jason. He is warning Tim. It’s tough love and it’s certainly done in a terrible way, but in his own, PTSD-ridden way, Jason is trying to make Tim understand just how much trouble he has gotten himself into by signing up to be Robin.

Jason also brings up another good point: inside the Titan Tower, there are statues of all the fallen Titans. Except Jason. He was only a Titan for a brief time, but he did very good work, helped them out tremendously when other, more experienced heroes like Nightwing failed, and was praised for his work. And yet he did not get a statue when everyone else did. In Jason’s eyes, his death did not matter. He was replaced and forgotten in every way possible, and he clearly says so to Tim. At this point, Tim extends the briefest of olive branches to him and asks him if he wants to be Robin again and tells him that he had had to beg Bruce to let him be Robin, but unfortunately, instead of actually trying to reach out, it’s all coated in a heathy dose of entitlement and victim blaming: he does not want Jason to take Robin away from him, he calls him insane, when he says ‘no one could ever forget you’ what he really means is ‘Bruce considers you a failure that he blames himself for’, and he flat out states that he doesn’t care and he’s gonna take Jason down.

Jason still ends up beating Tim, but he acknowledges Tim’s iron will and determination and leaves. However, first he leaves a message on the wall, letting the Titans know that he was there. To any sane, compassionate person with half an understanding of psychology, this would be considered a cry for help. Sadly, not much comes of it.

What really gets me about this issue, though, is the ending. Jason, hearing news reports about the current events and Robin, admits that Tim is good, and he  wonders: if he had had friends like Tim’s, if he had had that kind of support from the beginning, would he have turned out to be a better Robin, a better person?

Jason regrets. Sociopaths, such as DC likes to paint him as, do not. But Jason regrets. He regrets and he is hurting, but even in that state, he is not above giving credit where credit is due.