#this takes place just after the explosion

[tiyawnyana]

Hey hey heyyy!

I actually love avatar too! I’m counting down the days until Avatar 3 comes out so I can watch it a million times <3

Anyway, I was hoping you could do headcannons of Viktor x councillor!reader who is an advocate for building up the Undercity so it gets to Piltover level if that makes sense. (Basically just wanting equality within the two districts)

Thank yeww!

-🎐 anon

Thank you for the request!!! (I mightve gone a little off track) Gaaaah I love me some good quality characters that wear their heart on their sleeves. Also I cannot wait for avatar 3!! I fear everyone around me will hate me bc that is all I will be talking about

A/N: two fics two days in a row?? A Christmas miracle

Characters: Viktor x Counselor!Reader

Warnings: nothing explicit—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Heart

You took over the counselor position after your Uncle, Torman Hoskel, retired.

You got into politics for the sole purpose of giving equality to those less fortunate. You were a black sheep of sorts, in comparison to your other family members

you were seen as childish- bright eyed and naive, but you played your cards closely and carefully, much like one Medarda (she too realized this)

It was earlier on into the beginning of the age of Hextech, Jayce Talis and his partner, Viktor from the Undercity were becoming the faces of the future.

People mainly only acknowledged Jayce, but you often sought out Viktor as well, including him on the conversations with the progress of Hextech

You gave Viktor the equal respect and admiration as Jayce received from everyone, and that surprised Viktor- a welcome surprise, thankfully

Over time, you built a steady, healthy friendship with him and Jayce, genuinely happy and enthralled with the progress and creations they made over the years

At first, Viktor thought your actions were none other than another counselor wanting Hextech in their pocket-

He was mistaken and he's glad of it, you never came in with that as your goal

You first poach the idea of installing something of good use to the undercity to Jayce in private, hoping for him to take the hint to speed things along.

His best friend, his partner in Hextech after all, was from Zaun. Viktor deserved to see their creations be used to help his people.

You advocated for Zaun more as time went on, acknowledging the name that the people have given their home. You brought in infrastructure ideas, growing more and more agitated as your ideas kept being pushed to the back burner.

This got you into arguments- Many arguments with the other counselors but you refused to bend. Counselor Heimerdinger remained neutral, not able to see that his people were starving in the undercity, suffering and ill ridden despite his prodigy being a product of that environment. You appreciated Heimerdinger for everything he's done, but came to the realization that it wasn't enough.

word of uprisings and crime lords gaining power in the Undercity after all the things that happened 5 years prior (the explosion at Jayce’s, the one down by the southern docks, the death of the ‘Hound’, Vander); it all gained your attention more

You had called for a meeting with the other counselors the night you returned, bringing your own collected vile of what was called Shimmer. The purple, glimmery fluid almost glowed, pulsing with light as you placed it before Counselor Heimerdinger.

“I’m afraid I must be completely honest and blunt here,” you usher to the vile,

“This is the product of our blatant disregard of our people in the Undercity.”

Counselor Salo scoffs, rolling his eyes and spewing some vile insinuations of ‘heathens’ and ‘animals’.

You ignore him, standing in the middle of the circular table,”I commend Counselor Kirammans house for commissioning the pipes in the lower parts of the Undercity to give them safe, proper air to breathe,” you nod to the woman,”But this is not enough. The people deserve more. They need our support, our protection-“

You don’t realize that Jayce and Viktor have been summoned, approaching the room and being let in halfway through your rant.

Viktor is surprised-

“These people have dug their own grave- they start riots and spew violence-”

“Only because they've been backed into a corner, Salo!” You shout, walking closer to his seat and therefore cornering him, despite the barrier of the table,”Anyone will do what they can to protect themselves, their families, from violence.”

You stand up straight, looking around the table. The counselors either look away or face you, a scowl on their lips.

“We are supposed to protect our people, not bury them underground with no hopes to getting out,” you usher to the vile once more,”This is what our lack of protection and equality does to them. Strips them of their lives. They're constantly in fear or struck by illness or addiction, all because we've been turning a blind eye. It's no wonder they've been rioting- it's the only thing that has gotten your attention!”

You glance over to Counselor Shoola, at least hoping she would acknowledge it but you're surprised to see Jayce and Viktor in the entryway.

“This meeting is adjourned,” Counselor Heimerdinger speaks out, beckoning the two in the entryway in.

You send a scathing glare at them all before storming out.

Viktor finds you a few hours later on the terrace above the gardens.

He's quiet, his cane the only form of noise as he approaches. There's a brisk chill to the air, moon high above the clouds cascading a cool glow along the flowers below.

He sighs, leaning against the banister, gazing down below before drifting his eyes back up to the sky

You huff out a soft sigh, head bowing in exhaustion,”They're all idiots.”

He laughs softly, nodding in agreement as he peers over at you,”Yeah- yeah, they can be.”

You bring your head up, frustration in your brow,”I just- how can these people be so stuck up? I get that my head was in the dirt for a while- but I learned and I'm trying to make things right-”

“You're using your status and position to do good,” he murmurs, leaning on his elbow and facing you,”That's more than any of them can say, honestly.”

You glance over at him with a sorrowful look,”What if that isn't enough? I'm doing all that I can, I've started production in the lower mines to clear out the old piping-”

Viktor shakes his head at that, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to place his hand over yours,”Even speaking it aloud does something. Your actions alone have proven that, don't think I haven't heard you giving ideas to Jayce for the undercity while I wasn't there.”

He smirks at you and you huff.

“Just keep doing what you're doing, I'm right there with you and I know Jayce is too,” he reassures softly.

You nod quietly, peering down below,”I hope I haven't squandered my position.”

“I don't think you have, and honestly,” he steps closer,”I don't think you will anytime soon. Your seat in that chamber is important for Piltover's Infrastructure- I'd say you hold more cards than Shoola or Salo.”

You roll your eyes with a fond huff,”Now, I doubt that-”

“Don't,” he speaks firm but careful,”You have what they don't seem to-”

You raise a brow,”And what would that be?”

He's silent for such a brief moment, eyes flicking across your face before he smiles softly,”A heart.”

Your face warms, surprisingly, and you attempt to brush it off with a sarcastic laugh.

“Considering one of them is made of metal-”

“I mean it,” he steps closer, and suddenly you feel his warmth,”You have a heart- full of fire and care for people you haven't even met-”

He cups your forearm,”You were kind to me without scorn, even when we first met.”

You're silent, gaze drifting down to his hand holding your arm. Your heart is thundering away in your chest,”It's not difficult to be kind.”

“For some, it is,” he murmurs, his warm eyes drifting over your face, urging you to look at him,”But you never wavered.”

You bring your gaze back up to his, almost taken aback by the genuine smile on his lips.

He brushes back a stray hair, tucking it behind your ear and cupping your cheek tenderly, pulling you in.

You almost think he's going to kiss you, but instead presses his forehead against yours, sighing softly.

“Keep using your voice,” he murmurs,”They're sure to listen eventually.”

You lean into his hold, hand moving to cup his elbow softly as you nod quietly.

He's the one to pull back, another surprise, but doesn't let you pull away completely- instead peering at you with a soft, but questioning gaze, eyes moving down to your lips before trailing back up to yours.

You nod, nose brushing his as he slots his lips over yours.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

A/N: requests are still open!

[soobnny]

the alchemy — athlete!chan x reader ; established relationship (0.9k words)

where’s the trophy, he just comes running over to me

olympic inspired fic

Chan told stories.

His hands, rough with hard work, held strength and sacrifices. Years of training manifested in his calloused palms, in the occasional cuts and bruises.

They were proof of his passion, his dreams, his ambitions.

It’s almost funny how that entire world he had crafted with tears and sweat and sacrifices all boils down to a single moment, to right now, under the watchful eyes of thousands. Maybe even millions.

On the other side stood a realm, a place he can reap the efforts he’d planted step-by-step. He can faintly see victory from where he’s standing.

The crowd is a blur of color and noise. There are hands with flags waving, faces of anticipation, voices that brewed with support. Chan can feel the weight of the entire stadium pressing against his chest.

There is drumming, and beating, and shouting, and cheers.

And then static.

He breathes in, the space falling away in consequence. There is only the wall of focus he’s just built for himself—only the track, the runway, the pole, the leap.

The bar was set higher than it had been on his first attempt. A podium finish was in his reach with the pole in his hands and the runway in front of him if he would just make this jump.

A sharp breath.

The faintest rustle of the uniform he’s wearing.

And then the low hum of static.

There is nothing but the vault.

His pulse is thudding in his ears, heartbeat echoing a steady beat of anticipation. The sound of his shoes hitting the ground seemed louder than it was earlier.

There was only one thing to do now.

Chan’s gaze falls straight to the landing zone. He zeroes in on the marks, the mat awaiting his landing, the exact moment the pole would bend, how his body should fly above the vault.

That entire world, the callouses in his hands, the roughness of hard work, the countless hours of repetition were all about to be reduced to that one line on the horizon.

His grip tightens on the pole, familiar yet too rigid for comfort. And then he’s at the starting line.

At a last effort of any fragment of comfort, he searches for you where you stand. You were there, always have been, with eyes holding softness, and hope, and comfort. Something no one else could ever replicate.

A flicker of a smile curves at his lips, and then, as if his body has always known the exact timing, his legs start to move. One step, two steps. One after the other. His speed picks up, his hands instinctively tighten around the pole as it digs into the ground beneath him, and then he flies.

Chan flies, and the crowd falls silent in anticipation.

His entire world spins in such a short amount of time, even stills as his body—taught with the thrill of possibility—twists. There is muscle memory in the way he soars in the air, the same air heavy with the taste of victory that wasn’t his yet.

Gravity takes over.

Everything else falls behind him. Flashbacks of late night practices, and crying, and thinking he’s not good enough. Moments when he’d almost given up. Days when he’d felt like his efforts were going nowhere.

You’d always been there to help him back up.

You. You. You.

Thud.

His body hits the mats, and the sound echoes for half a second.

Just like that, it was done. He had done it.

His breath comes back in quick bursts, heart hammering in his chest.

When the mat propels his body back up, he lands on his feet. And before he can really process the victory he’d been working upon, he’s already turning. Sprinting.

The only direction to go now was the stands, the only direction left was to you.

You. You. You.

His legs carried him faster, and faster, and the world moved in a similar slow motion as he was when he was flying. The cheering, the flashing lights of cameras, the explosiveness of the stadium, everything was abandoned in the background.

Chan barrels into you, arms pulling you into the tightest embrace he could muster. For a moment, nothing else mattered—the gold medal, the record, nothing. Except for the fact that he had made it, and you were there with him to see it happen.

“Channie” is the only word you can muster, voice thick as you loop your arms around his neck.

Apparently, it’s also the only word he needs to pull himself back, hands resting on your shoulders as if needing to anchor himself to the moment. His eyes look into yours for a split second.

His eyes told stories too. It was always his most honest and obvious tell. And right now, they were looking at you with so much love.

Yours, with pride.

“Baby—“

Without warning, his lips find yours.

You feel everything in one kiss. The adrenaline, the years of work, his entire world. Chan leans into you, breathing you in, feeling the surge of everything he had accomplished into someone that felt like home.

Fuck, you make him happier than any Olympic gold medal ever could.

Somewhere in the distance, the announcer’s voice rings out his name as champion, but all he can ever see and hear right now is you. It was done. He’d made the vault, now all he needed to do was hold onto you.

There’s plenty of time for the rest later, plenty of time for celebrations, for the podium, for the journalists.

Right now, it was only ever you and the bright smile on your face, and the same smile he’s mirroring on his own.

And right now, in this moment, Chan doesn’t have to jump to know what it feels like to fly.

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: Baker S/O

Characters: Bakugo, Satou, Kaminari, and Todoroki

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo respects your skills but can’t resist challenging you to see who makes the best pastries or bread. It turns into a fiery competition.

Bakugo gives honest feedback, but deep down, he loves everything you make. You can catch his rare, genuine compliments when he thinks you're not paying attention.

If anyone criticizes your bakery, they’re going to get a "stern talking-to". (We all know what I mean by that) Bakugo has no patience for people disrespecting your hard work.

Though he pretends to hate the mess, you’ll find him helping in the kitchen when you’re stressed or behind on orders. He secretly enjoys it but will deny it at all costs.

You make him spicy or explosion-themed treats just for fun. He groans but ends up eating all of them.

Rikido Satou

Your shared passion for baking is what brought you two closer. He loves brainstorming new recipes with you and adding his own twist.

You two are a powerhouse in the kitchen, especially during holidays or special events. People marvel at how smoothly you work together.

Satou is your number-one fan and the most enthusiastic taste-tester. He has detailed feedback about flavors and textures and always encourages you to try new ideas.

He loves surprising you with unique ingredients or kitchen gadgets he thinks you’d like. You once joked he’s a walking baking supply store.

You both fantasize about opening a bakery together after he retires as a hero, blending your skills into something special.

Denki Kaminari

Kaminari always wants to help, but he’s hilariously bad at it. He’ll spill flour or drop an egg, then flash you a sheepish grin.

He’s constantly hyping up your baked goods to his classmates or fans. (Depending on when this takes place) He insists that you’re the best baker in the world and brings your treats to school to show off.

Kaminari adores leaving cheesy little notes or hearts in the flour when you’re not looking. He’ll also try (and fail) to surprise you with his own baking attempts.

You make him bright-colored cupcakes or cookies with lightning bolt designs, which he loves showing off.

Kaminari jokes about being the charming barista at your bakery, flirting with customers while you run the kitchen. He’s dead serious about the idea, though.

Shoto Todoroki

Todoroki loves everything you make but doesn’t always vocalize it. However, the way he savors every bite says it all.

Todoroki is fascinated by the science and art behind baking. He often watches you work with quiet admiration and occasionally asks to learn the basics.

He offers to use his quirk to cool things faster or adjust the temperature in the kitchen. He’s surprisingly helpful when you’re in a rush.

He’ll bring your baked goods to share with his family, especially Fuyumi. They both gush over how talented you are, which makes Todoroki feel proud.

He loves your more unique creations, especially anything with subtle, balanced flavors like matcha or lavender. It’s become a tradition for you to bake him something new to try.

Whenever he has a bad day, he quietly shows up at your bakery for comfort. A warm pastry and your presence always make him feel better.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[am-i-interrupting]

Pleasure of Your Company

Prologue

Summary: You are Singed’s child. It was with the death of his grandchild, that he became the man the Undercity knows. The man Silco hired. With the explosion of the lab leaving your father injured, you took his role until he could fill it himself once more.

You could recall the time you had in Piltover’s prided Academy walls. The first time you set foot in them you were thirteen. It was grand and so very tall.

You gripped your father’s hand, so cold in comparison to your own but it always had been.

A yordle was yapping by your father’s side. He was covered in orange fur that was so soft it reminded you of cream. His nose was small a pink, brought attention to by his large mustache.

His name was Heimerdinger.

You would go to the Academy many times after that. Every day after school. You grew found of the yordle. He was funny, kind, so warm in every way.

That is why when you were seventeen, you wiped your tears as you ran to his office.

He was in the middle of a conversation with a council member but it quickly came to a close. He shooed them out of the room and took you to a small couch.

The worn leather of his gloves wiped away your tears as he asked what troubled you. You keeled over yourself, arms wrapped around your stomach as you told him. Scared and terrified, no idea what to do.

His assurance that things would be alright was the only thing that got you onto your feet. You held his hand the entire way to find your father.

Things did not go smoothly over the next few months. Nothing wrong coming from your father or the yordle who’d been adopted as your uncle. Rather, it was different complications.

Complications that did not end when a screaming baby girl entered the world.

Sick and frail. Those were words to describe her. Like a porcelain doll.

She took to the arts like a fish to water. She loved paint and music and dancing. Oh, how she loved to dance.

Dancing was the easiest way to get her daily stretches in, to help her inflamed joints. Getting her to stop, however, even when she was in pain was much harder.

Every day you took her to a dance studio. You sat in the entire class. Occasionally your father would take off to watch and you’d all go out afterwards and get some indulgent foods. He never missed a dance recital nor did Heimerdinger.

She was obsessed with the yordle. She laughed when his fur tickled her skin and at his constant jovial attitude. He took to her just as well.

He made her toys. A music box that she had to listen to every night with a story in order to fall asleep.

And fall asleep she did but for far too long.

She’d been sick. Illness was not uncommon for her. Doctor visits were at least once a month for check ins. However, she had been burning with a fever and coughing a lung.

When doctors said she’d succumbed to a coma, you’d yelled at them to get your father. You refused to leave her bedside.

He’d managed to take her home. A live in nurse paid for by Heimerdinger for the time being.

The yordle would accompany you at her side. He would say words that were meant to be comforting but brought nothing except pain.

For months she was asleep. You and your father both frantic, trying to figure out what to do.

A fight between your father and Heimerdinger broke out. You didn’t know much about it when Heimerdinger visited you as you packed your bags.

You had no tears left to cry.

A laboratory was set up in the Undercity. A cave by the riverside. A room of her things was set up and given the most care. She was placed in the center.

It was like the stories you’d read to her, of a sleeping princess. However, there was no magic kiss to break the spell.

Years later, a young boy came along.

He was curious and sweet. His eyes full of wonder and his heart spilling as it overflowed with compassion.

You took to the boy. He would fall asleep some late nights beside the mutation known as Rio. You would scoop him up into your arms and carry him to a place to lay.

You found a spark with the boy. It was nice. While it lasted.

The boy would leave nearly a year later.

Back to the routine of experimenting. Failing. Getting closer. Going three steps back. On and on and on. Again and again and again.

A man dressed in a two piece suit walked in about two decades after your daughter fell into her coma. His face was scarred and a bright red eye seemed to glow in contrast.

“I believe we may have something to discuss.”

[glitter-stained]

She doesn't take so well to grief.

Neither does anyone, she thinks. Her mom smiles and plays with the alliance she wears around her neck and tells her time heals all wounds, doesn't erase the pain but makes it bearable, like an old ache in a twisted ankle that never healed quite right. It's been years, and despite her grandma's insistence, her mom refuses to try dating again. She sobs in her bedroom when she thinks Rena is asleep.

Liars, the lot of them.

Rena's dad dies when she's eight in a car accident driving home from work. Her mother hugs her tight and cries into her hair, and her grandmother holds her hand through the whole funeral, and Rena feels a little like she's having a bad dream; not a nightmare, just a very sad one where all the colours are faded. Absurdly, the first thing she thinks is that he'll never take her to the diner on Saturday nights after dance class again, and then she hates herself a little for being sad about this, rather than the fact he is dead. That remorse goes away with time. Grief, she thinks, is a lot of sadness for the joy we thought we'd have, and the memories of things we'll never get again. There's also anger, sometimes, not always. Her dad gets his neck snapped in a car accident because he was driving too fast and some asshole didn't put on his blinkers. That's not fair. It was dumb and cruel and totally preventable, if only one of the two had just been a little more responsible about driving their car. She's angry at her dad, and at the idiot who took him away from her. She stops going to dance class in retaliation.

Rena's grandmother dies when she's twelve, and she's surprised to find she isn't angry. It feels fair, in a sense; her grandma was eighty, and she smoked like a pirate with something to prove (or how she imagines that a pirate would smoke.) She doesn't know what to do with herself in the absence of anger, so she uses all her savings to buy some green wool and a knitting kit. She doesn't really take to it, it's not fun, but her grandma had been in the process of knitting her a scarf before her heart stopped in her sleep. She knits herself a green scarf. It's not too cool, nor too stylish, she doesn't wear it to school or to hang out with her friends. It stays hung on her door, and she hugs it tight when she's sad, when she misses her grandma and her dad, and cries into it because her mother is a liar and the grief doesn't get easier and she doesn't even like knitting anyway. Jason thinks the scarf is pretty, but Jason would think anything is pretty if he knew she'd done it, because he's sweet like that. He says she looks good in green; but again, Jason always seems to think she looks good. She starts wearing green eyeshadow anyway.

Her cute, nerdy, dorky highschool boyfriend dies in an explosion in Ethiopia at fifteen years old under mysterious circumstances. They'll never get to pass notes with little hearts in algebra class or share a milkshake with two straws while he gets whipped cream on the top of his nose or watch a disappointing romantic movie at the theatre while holding hands the whole time again. It takes her a year to find the place he's buried, far from the family plot of the people who adopted him, under a gloomy angel statue. She learns it's custom practice to put angels over children's grave. It looks like a guardian, warding the tomb, protecting him. But he needed a guardian angel when he was alive, not now that she'll never see him smile again, stand on his toes to kiss her on the lips, put her favourite song in the jukebox at the diner. That's not fair. They shouldn't have touched him, shouldn't have hurt him and taken him from her and she'll never know what happened and they dumped his body out like an old worn-down shoe under a heap of dirt. Jason is dead.

There's the anger.

[hyperdaddy4]

He had allowed her to insert them herself…the 6 inch diameter glass spheres….attached to each other by the thin carbon cord….

telling her to squat had made the process much more sensitive…causing her labia to engorge with blood as the weight of her exquisite body concentrated her bloodflow to those areas of her….

‘slowly…feel each one’….he had offered…

her delicate hand took the first…rotating it in her clear cool arousal juices…wetting it well…before placing it against her clit…then using the tip of her finger to put just the right pressure on it…sending it back and in…pushing her soft pink labia apart…wide…then closing around it as her vaginal passage opened up for it and welcomed it…

the thin black cord tight as the next beautiful sphere hung expectantly between her legs….

‘good….slower is better…yes?’..

‘yes….much’…

‘good…continue’…

one by one she pressed them in..until the first was hard against her anterior fornix….the others nestled like owl eggs in a nest…

a soft, wet, warm nest….deep inside her….

the loop just visible…

she adjusted her legs…causing the most divine sensation to fill her core..

‘can I rub my clit sir….please…its aching…and I need to…’

‘come here…’, he beckoned…

she stood….the weight of the spheres heavy in her….a thin teardrop stream of nectar falling from her distended sex….laying itself deliciously onto her smooth pale thigh…

she walked to him…

‘turn around’…

she complied…

‘bend forwards’…

slowly…she folded her body…until her head was near the floor…

‘now squeeze your clit’…he whispered….as he took the loop and slid a finger through it….

he gave her three minutes…pulling just enough on the loop, up towards her clitoris…that the last glass ball distended her …

‘oh sir’…she sighed..as her fingers increased the rhythm and pressure..

‘oh…sir…oh’..

soon, he sensed she was close…and began to pull them out..

taking what seemed like hours to slip each one out of her..

of course, her orgasm arrived…her legs beginning to shake..as sphere 3 then 4 fell with a quiet ‘plop’ from her saturated pussy….

feeling the hot wet spheres play against her thighs..as wave after wave of intense pleasure swept through her….

5 squeezed itself out….her pulsating pussy almost firing it now..

then…6.

He laid the string on his lap as his tongue tip sought out her opening..a spit of saliva into it as he took the first sphere and quickly began to feed them back in…. her explosive orgasm still in motion..

he had to work fast…keeping her here was not easy..:but it could be done….

40 minutes later she fell from him…her pussy sliding up and off his perfect cock as a third orgasm took her quite by surprise…onto the floor at his feet..

‘no more sir…no more’..

he stood….walked to her…his cock glistening with cum and her…and bent down…

‘not your decision my darling…not your decision’.

Find a true master…

they are out there…

waiting, to take you on a journey across the elysian fields of your mind….

and from there..deep into the galaxy that is your soul..

a journey….that will change you..elevate you…

explore you and adore you.

You have been told.

hd4

[acuteobserv4tion]

Idea for a future Shadow, Amy, and Rouge movie/mini series/ TV special that would take place after the 4th movie.

Spoilers: You know the drill

They combine the Team Dark plotline from Sonic Heroes with the Black Doom stuff from the Shadow the Hedgehog game.

I think we all know an amnesia plotline would be pointless in the movies. So instead, how about they finally introduce Rouge. We can't have her working for GUN in her debut since they just keep leaving a stink on the Sonic cinematic universe.

Amy finds Shadow, and she drags him around, kind of like she did to Silver. We dont know where Shadow landed. She reminds him of Maria, and he takes Sonic's advice about new love and finding family to heart. Just taking the natural route for their dynamic that Sega refused to expand on.

He follows her, mostly quiet, mostly observing. Amy engages with him. Just full of energy, being herself. Not a one to one of Maria, but more casual. Amy is just enjoying the world. A world Shadow never got to experience.

And Amy takes care of Shadow, holding his hand, answering his call. She doesn't even know she's doing it. That's just who she is. Shadow occasionally recoils from the light coming off her. Maria's light. The story would be about that connection and helping Shadow adjust.

Rouge gets introduced as someone drawn to the explosion of chaos energy in space like Knuckles and Tails were. My original thought was that she was searching for the Master Emerald, too. But that might have to change.

There was no Space Colony Ark. So, how would Gerald and Black Doom have communicated without a fuss? Maybe Black Doom had an envoy?

Perhaps Rouge's people could be servants traveling across the Galaxy under orders. Minor scouts. Expendable. Only given minimal information for their tasks. But Rouge is a sneaky creature, lasting this long due to cunning and gathering info.

When Gerald's Eclipse Cannon goes off, the Black Arms recognize the energy as their creation. They send Rouge to check it out. Rouge would be the B plot. Keeping track of her progress with Amy and Shadow in the background.

She arrives at the military base. Finds it empty. She doesn't pay mind to the wreckage like Sonic would. She goes through the tunnels.

Back to Amy and Shadow: Eventually, as they traveled the world together (with Shadows' underlying angst), Shadow tells Amy that he needs to get/do something. Something important. Something he didn't think he would need to before. (After all, the plan was for everyone to die, including him and Gerald)

Amy being Amy says she'll go with him. If he'll let her. She knows he's not telling her everything. But she's willing to wait.

When they get to the base, Amy sticks by his side, looking around, because this was his home. Shadow is still pained. Maybe he tells Amy that he had a friend here.

Rouge's presence is made known. This infuriates Shadow like it did when Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails intruded. Like a tormented ghost haunting a grave site. His energy starts bouncing off him, and Rouge recognizes it from what she saw when receiving her mission.

Rouge is caught. So, of course, Rouge blends in, like she always has. She engages with Shadow and Amy.

She plays herself off as a treasure hunter/explorer. Someone searching for rare artifacts and specimens, but was drawn in by the massive energy beam that came from this planet a while back. Saying she came to learn what it was.

Of course, Shadow is hesitant to say anything about that to either of the girls. Though Rouge already suspects that he's the result of Black Arms DNA.

They explore past the tunnels. I believe they would find a robot friend down there. A seemingly unfinished thing that reminds Amy of the metal hedgehogs she fought before. Only closer in design to the egg bots. Almost like a prototype, but not quite.

Shadow knows what it is. Another Gerald Robotnik discovery. (Opens up a future for Gamma and Omega after the Metal Sonic stuff. Personally, I think Gamma)

Maybe they come across the Biolizard down there. Dead or barely alive. Resting, possibly. Or Shadow simply has a flashback of the Biolizard hanging on to life, that he wasn't the only one confined to this place. Possible Shadow feelings on his predecessors?

Rouge is smoothly digging through old Project Shadow files the whole journey, but still being, well, Rouge.

Amy is unsure about the bat. Maybe even confronts Rouge at one point, saying that if this goes bad for him or Shadow is hurt in any way, she'll have to answer to Amy Rose. Protective of this quiet, overwhelmed boy that she found.

Of course, Rouge isn't nearly as repentant(yet) on the other side of Amy's little confrontation

We keep searching. Shadow learns about and recognizes the horrors of Gerald's experiments. What it may have taken to complete him. He doubts his own purpose. Emotional support hedgehog Amy Rose works to put a stop to that.

We only saw his eyes surrounded by rock, and he said he had no memories beyond earth.

We learn about the Black Arms. Why even the doctors looked at Shadow the way they did. Maybe Shadow wasn't fully formed when he crashed on earth. Why? Where did he come from? What did he come from?

Rouge is suave while she guides them in the direction of Shadow's past. Amy tells him he doesn't need to do this if he's not ready. Shadow has no idea where he came from, how he got here.

Well, now is his chance to know.

So, they go run across the world using Rouge's rings. The current GUN doesn't have the answers. They search through Walter's old stuff.

And that's how Shadow would learn about Black Doom. What deal was it that Gerald made.

Maria didn't seem to be sick in the movie, and there was no indication whatsoever that Shadow was ever going to be used for cures or medicine. The only thing we know is that they were obsessed with his energy.

What is Rouge's Endgame? Is she supposed to bring Shadow back with her? Is she meant to trigger something? Is there a beacon? Are the Black Arms coming here?

So yeah, that's my theory.

Hopefully, Shadow will be with his girls at some point, having an arc.

[eretzyisrael]

by Terry Glavin

In Liberal circles, a new ideological construction is gaining ground—one that threatens to destroy all that it touches in much the way Critical Race Theory has done. That new idea is “Anti-Palestinian Racism,” defined in such a way as to place Zionism—that is, the view held by the vast majority of Jews—beyond the pale of polite society, and potentially beyond the bounds of Canadian hate speech law.

According to the Arab Canadian Lawyers Association, anti-Palestinian racism is defined as follows: “Anti-Palestinian racism is a form of anti-Arab racism that silences, excludes, erases, stereotypes, defames, or dehumanizes Palestinians or their narratives. Anti-Palestinian racism takes various forms including: denying the Nakba and justifying violence against Palestinians; failing to acknowledge Palestinians as an Indigenous people with a collective identity, belonging and rights in relation to occupied and historic Palestine; erasing the human rights and equal dignity and worth of Palestinians; excluding or pressuring others to exclude Palestinian perspectives, Palestinians, and their allies; defaming Palestinians and their allies with slander such as being inherently antisemitic, a terrorist threat/sympathizer or opposed to democratic values.”

It is worth reading that twice. It is a definition of racism that makes the most fundamental defense of Israel’s existence racist. It renders it impossible to describe antisemitism without running the risk of being described as racist.

Michal Cotler-Wunsh, Israel’s special envoy for combating antisemitism, has some special insight into Canada. The Jerusalem-born 53-year-old former member of the Knesset spent about half her life in Canada. She went to school in Montreal, completed a law degree at Hebrew University, then came back to Canada for a master’s degree. A decade later, she returned to Israel.

Anti-Palestinian racism is a legalistic rendering of a vulgar slogan routinely chanted at anti-Israel marches across Canada over the past 10 months: “All the Zionists are racists.” Cotler-Wunsh points out the obvious: “APR renders anyone who self-defines or who is identified as a Zionist or just believes Israel has a right to exist as a racist.”

What we’re witnessing in Canada is the diffusion of “a very particular kind of antisemitism,” Cotler-Wunsh told me. The country’s susceptibility to the “anti-Zionist” iteration of antisemitism is partly because Canadians have lost the capacity to identify with strongly held national values, Cotler-Wunsh argued. “Canadians aren’t especially patriotic,” she said. “So there’s a ‘live and let live’ idea, but it results in indifference.” And that has allowed antisemitism to course through Canada’s institutional bloodstream, largely unchecked.

Cotler-Wunsh’s adoptive father, Irwin Cotler, is a renowned international human rights champion and Canada’s former justice minister. A tireless advocate for dissidents in Russia, Iran, China, and elsewhere, Cotler served as Canada’s special envoy on preserving Holocaust remembrance and combating antisemitism until just days after October 7.“I have never seen in all my life such a thing, such expressions from people of all ages, such expressions of apprehension, of isolation, insecurity, foreboding, expressed in different ways,” said Irwin Cotler. (Dan Balilty via AP Photo)

Last December, after he failed to show up at a Toronto event celebrating the imprisoned Hong Kong dissident Jimmy Lai, it was disclosed that Cotler was under 24-hour police protection because of a threat to his life. The assassination plot was hatched in Tehran.

“Seeing that was heartbreaking,” Cotler-Wunsh told me. “The thought that this would happen in Canada, the thought that in this multicultural beacon of dignity for all, that Canada’s former justice minister, a human rights warrior who fought for hundreds of people around the world, is under house arrest—you could say, trapped in his own home—is really heartbreaking.”

Heartbreaking is a word that well describes the way Canadian Jews see their predicament these days. “I have never seen in all my life such a thing, such expressions from people of all ages, such expressions of apprehension, of isolation, insecurity, foreboding, expressed in different ways,” said Cotler, 84, when we spoke last week. “I see it when I meet with students; I see it when I meet with elderly people. I hear, ‘This is not the Canada I know,’ or ‘This is not the Canada I came to.’ Or ‘This is not the Canada I have ever experienced. This is something else.’ And they are afraid to publicly express it.”

In part, that’s because antisemitism is no longer just some protest culture eccentricity. It’s going mainstream, from the bottom to the top.

Consider the fact that the Toronto District School Board has voted to incorporate “Anti-Palestinian Racism” within its overall anti-discrimination strategy. APR has been endorsed by the NDP and championed by Liberal MP Jenica Atwin. Its most senior advocate is the Trudeau government’s own Special Representative on Combating Islamophobia Amira Elghawaby.

Last month. Elghawaby said Trudeau himself had agreed to come up with a definition of APR and put it into practice.

It’s already gotten to the point that if you enter public conversations by saying anything contrary to the APR doctrine, you’d better be very careful. Say anything that contradicts Palestinian narratives, or questions the right of Palestinians to sovereignty in all of “historic” Palestine, or something that could be construed as “denying the Nakba,” and you can end up destroying your political career, no matter how solid your progressive bona fides might be.

[sukuna-ryo]

Aftercare with Sukuna

MDNI

»»———-　....................　———-««

(770 words)

---

Sex with Sukuna is rough, intense, and explosive. But what comes after is surprisingly quiet, almost tender in its own strange way.

He doesn’t move at first. The room feels heavy, the air thick with the remnants of what just happened. His crimson eyes linger on you, unreadable, as if weighing whether he’s even bothered enough to care. But then he lets out a low grunt, shifting to the edge of the bed. “Stay,” he mutters, not bothering to see if you’ll listen.

He’ll get up to grab a warm towel, grumbling to himself about what kind of king he’d be if he couldn’t even take care of his woman. There’s no rush, though; he moves like he’s in control of everything, even this. He’ll clean you up with a precision that doesn’t quite match the grumbling in his chest, his hands gentle but efficient. “Pathetic,” he mutters, but it’s more of a half-hearted insult than anything.

Once that’s done, he’ll hand you a glass of water, the glass cold against your fingers, though his eyes are cold, too. “Want something to eat?” he asks, still glaring at you, looking like he’s forcing himself to be generous. What did you expect?

If you say yes, he’ll scoff, muttering something about how weak you are. But he’ll leave the room anyway and come back with something simple, placing it in front of you without another word, like he’s doing you a favor. He’ll stand by while you eat, arms crossed, watching you like you’re under some kind of judgment.

After you’re done, he’ll finally lie down next to you, stretching out like he owns the bed. He won’t reach for you—he never does. Sukuna isn’t the type to pull you close, but he knows you’ll come to him eventually. You always do. So, he waits, eyes closed, body relaxed, pretending not to care. And when you finally give in and curl up against him, he doesn’t push you away.

You’d think he'd be bothered by the closeness, but as much as he acts like it’s a nuisance, his arm will slip around you when you settle against him. It’s not gentle, but it’s there, and that’s all that matters. “Don’t get used to this,” he grumbles, but his hand moves down to rub circles on your back like it’s nothing, slow and steady. He won’t admit it, but when you cuddle closer, he’ll adjust the blanket, pulling it up to make sure you’re warm. His hand will gently thread through your hair as he grumbles about how ridiculous it is to care, but it’s a soothing gesture all the same. He’ll keep his gaze forward, his body tense, but his hold on you will be steady, and he won’t let you go.

But on the rare occasion you don’t come to him—when you turn your back and stay on the other side of the bed—he doesn’t react right away. He lies there, unmoving, but his jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow at the ceiling like it’s offended him. After a moment, he’ll shift, not toward you, of course, but just enough to make his presence known. If you still don’t budge, he’ll scoff loudly, the sound dripping with irritation. “Tch. What are you sulking for now?” he mutters, though he doesn’t expect an answer. If the silence stretches too long, he might let his arm casually drape over you, not pulling you close but just resting there, a wordless reminder that he’s still the one in charge—even when you’re being difficult.

As much as he hates to acknowledge it, his weakling of a mortal has her needs, and as much as he wants to deny it, he won’t leave you hanging. “Rest,” he murmurs lowly, and though the words are anything but affectionate, the tone is as close as he’ll ever come to showing you that you’re not just some afterthought.

---

Do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my content.

Likes, reblogs, and feedback is appreciated <3

»»———-　....................　———-««

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

fight the future part 1

AHHHHH, i’m so EXCITEDDDD!!!

it usually takes me an hour and a half to write up my initial thoughts on a 45 minute episode, PLUS more time to edit them before posting, so this 2 hour movie is probably going to take all night LMAOOOO

but after having some brief troubles with my laptop’s DVD player, here we are!!!! i cannot wait!!! i’m so excited!! everyone has really hyped this up. but i read the back of the DVD and it didn’t mention gibson at all? so are we just pushing that to the side for now?

okay. yeah. i’ll have to not worry about that little boy. 

oh, and yeah, i'm watching it on a DVD! the quality is... not great. which i suppose adds to the immersion.

post-movie thoughts: i can see shrimp colors and feel their secret emotions.

let’s GOOOOO!

theme music playing……………….. over some oily looking stuff…. YEAH BABY!!!!!

we are in a blizzard. two figures run. wait, it’s texas? oh, it’s ancient texas. a very different time from now.

let us enter a cave together, where we can start a fire and rest. and look around with torches. deeper and deeper into this labyrinth journey the cavemen. it looks like skyrim. i half expect a skeever to jump out

wah! who is this in the ice?

ALIEN ATTACK??? what is going on? alien vs cavemen! place your bets!!! one caveman down!!! the alien escaped?? other caveman wants to know where tf it went!

i get the sense a jumpscare is coming. WHAT IS THAT THING??? it looks like a flounder??????? surviving caveman stabs it and it bleeds. OHHH.... IS THAT THE BLACK OIL STUFF???? YEAH, it is!!! and it crawls all over the caveman!!!! 

wahhhh!!! abrupt jump cut to a boy named stevie falling into a cave. stevie, there may be monsters afoot, please be careful. stevie wants this skull for himself. please alert any local archaeologists of this find instead of stealing it or its historical context will forever be lost to time. NO STEVIE! the goop!!!!! it is upon him!!!

maybe this is what he gets for trying to steal archaeological remains. take notes, children. a lesson was learned today.

it crawls up his legs like evil slugs!!!! and into his eyeballs!! the other kids run!!!

they abandoned stevie in his hour of need… personally, i would not forgive them for this

some yellow firetrucks are here to save the day (and who has ever seen a yellow firetruck?). go, fetch stevie. the fireman up top can’t hear the ones down in the cave through the radio!!!

now, what is this helicopter doing at the scene? they bring out a pod-thing to store stevie in. and this other guy (later revealed to be named bronschweig- simply too many german names on this show) is watching the boy with grave concern.

THIS DUDE LEAVES THE FIREMEN DOWN THERE TO DIE?????

absolutely DIABOLICAL.

a ton more trucks pull in and block off the area while the doctor bronschweig guy calls someone to say that…. the impossible scenario that they never planned for??? well, they better come up with a plan!!

a week later, a helicopter arrives in dallas. the FBI says there is no evidence of an explosive in this building, but this other guy (michaud) says they had better check again. he sees something in the distance….. upon the roof....

SCULLY IS HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i cheered and screamed!

“mulder, it’s me!” “where are you scully?” “i’m on the roof” <- it was her on the roof!! oh, my heart is so happy to see her!!! she says she hasn't found anything. and you know she is good at observing

LMAOOOOO she wants to know what the fuck she is doing there!!! after going up 12 floors of stairs!!! they are not acting in accordance with the data on how to respond to terrorist threats!!! the bomb threat was called in ACROSS THE STREET!! lives could be lost!!! yes diva, monologue statistics!

BOO! mulder scares her LMAOOO LMAOOOOOOO aww. babies.

(her lecturing him on the statistics and terrorist behavioral analysis is so funny because he is the behavioral analysis guy... but i recognize that they are doing a sort of character introduction for the girlies who are just tuning in for the movie, and she is the one who likes to do things by the book)

(he pops a sunflower seed) “what are we doing up here, scully? it’s hotter than hell” <- many are asking this question...

NOOOOO, he’s bored because they’ve CLOSED THE X FILES 💔💔💔 and now they have to follow the rules!!! and do boring things like look for bombs! but at least they get to do it together? that has to be a plus!

“maybe we should call in a bomb threat to houston; i think it’s free beer night at the astrodome” (she glares at him) LMAOOOOO she’s mad as hell!!!! and so is he!!! but in a different direction!

OHHHHHH she pretends the door is locked…. and he goes into open it…. AHAHAHA, OH I JUST GIGGLED!!!

“it’s locked?” “so much for anticipating the unforeseen” (he opens it and turns to her, who is smiling, crossing her arms) “i had you” (he’s laughing) “no you didn’t” “had you big time"

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH i love when they write scully as a smartass!!! THAT IS MY BABY!! <3

SHE’S STILL TEASING HIM AS THEY GO INSIDE, BAHAHAHA! he says he saw her jiggle the handle; “i saw your face, mulder, there was a definite moment of panic” “you’ve never seen me panic. when i panic, i make this face” (he has no discernible expression)

BANTER!!! THE BANTER OF IT ALL!!!

OHHHH, SHE MAKES HIM BUY HER A SODA and she wants something SWEET... AGAIN, i say, that is my baby!!!!!!

15 minutes in and i’m already kicking my feet and giggling at their banter, oh my god… this is going to ruin me

LMAOOO what the hell did he just pull out of his pocket as he is putting the change in for a soda?!!

bro is slamming all of the buttons…. bro is kicking the machine… i have been there too, brother, i promise. 

aha! the machine was unplugged!

this DVD is skipping a little but i think he got locked in the drink room 💔 for what purpose??

he panics and calls scully on his nokia, and her number is 555-0113 btw, for those of you who keep track of these things

he says he found the bomb!!!! and she thinks he is joking, but he is absolutely not!!! 

OH SHIT!!!!! the bomb really is in there!!!! where the vending machine should be!! he starts counting down…….

so scully runs out, saying that she will get him out of there, but first: get everyone else out!!!!

YES, TELL THEM GIRL!!! “i need this building evacuated and cleared out in ten minutes. i want you to call the fire department and have them block off the city center and a one-mile radius around the building” “ten minutes?” “DON’T THINK! pick up that phone and make it happen!” <- YAAAAAAS EXACTLY RIGHT!!!

love when she raises her voice at men who doubt her. it brings me inner peace.

she needs to speak to michaud NOW…. tell him to deploy the FBI AT ONCE!!!!

oh, poor mulder, stuck in a locked room with the vending machine bomb….. he jumps when his cellphone rings. “scully, you know that face i just showed you? i’m making it again” <- NOOOOO his normally cool exterior is cracking 💔

she informs him to get away from the door because they are coming in. is michaud a welder????? or do they just keep one on hand for events like this?

michaud says to get out NOW!!! and mulder doesn’t want to listen, but scully forces him out. now why tf would this michaud guy know how to diffuse a bomb?? but he says he does.

okay, but he lies, because he’s just sitting there looking at it?????

mulder wants to run back in but she SCREAMS IN HIS FACE THAT THEY DON’T HAVE TIME!!!

(this was most pleasing to me as well. something about her screaming in his face to save him made me nod in approval)

they just barely get in the car, when the whole building blows!!!! poor limping agents emerge from the bombing as the place is in ruins. “next time, you’re buying”, mulder says. oh, this man, and his dumbass quips…

back to the FBI headquarters in DC. is scully in trouble??!?! but skinner is here!!!! surely he will defend her! oh no… mulder is here, too. there were 5 deaths in the explosion!!!

mulder rushes in, asking if the bodies really were found in the building, because they were told it was clear. but this lady tells him he was late and he better go wait outside… what is afoot at this moment…? skinner shakes his head ever so slightly

cut to him pounding sunflower seeds outside the door while the meeting takes place.

skinner emerges!!!!! NOOOO he gently informs mulder that they’re being blamed for this!!! he was so careful about the way he worded this news, too 💔💔

“if they want somebody to blame, they can blame me. agent scully doesn’t deserve this” “she’s in there right now saying the same thing about you” <- OHHHHHH……….. i fell to my knees in a walmart parking lot.

(metaphorically, of course. for in reality, i sit here, cozy in bed)

mulder says that he broke protocol by leaving the SAC, so he should take the blame, but she says she was the one who ordered him out. and he denies wanting to go back in.

poor scully :( she emerges

and now the people from the panel in the meeting room want skinner back :( she always calls him “sir” :(

NOOOOO, THEY’RE SPLITTING OUR AGENTS UP??? 💔 

“this is not about you scully, they’re doing this to me” “they’re not doing this. mulder, i left behind a career in medicine… because i thought that i could make a difference at the FBI, but it hasn’t turned out that way, and now if they were to transfer me to omaha, or cleveland, or some field office it just doesn’t hold the interest for me that it once did. not after what i’ve seen and done” <- OHHHHHH… his face while she says this…

and her guilt…. it’s like she wants to atone.

again, scully and her need to Do The Morally Correct Thing at all costs. and at this point, can she say that being in the FBI is the Morally Correct Thing to do? i don't blame her for wanting to go be a doctor instead, even though i am surprised she doesn't want to figure out who got her sick and killed her sister. maybe she thought if she cut her losses now, she could still make a life for herself somewhere else.

she looks so SAD, and she says she’s sorry, and when mulder walks away, she grabs his jacket that he left behind... ohhhhh my GOD, her standing alone in the hallway… someone please kill me

(post viewing note: i think he was trying to blame himself for the whole situation and assuage her guilt with the "this is not about you, scully" line, but it seemed like he was saying that he was the only one being persecuted for the pursuit of the great and noble Truth, which rubbed me the wrong way. i think i know what he MEANT, but when he said they were doing this to HIM, it was like, damn, pretty sure y'all have been a team... again with the hearing 'i' when he ought to hear 'we')

NOOOOO! mulder’s absolutely smashed at the bar. bro barely drinks and tonight he is going for the gold. 

AND THE BARTENDER ASKS WHAT HE DOES SO HE JUST. TELLS HER EVERYTHING??? so she cuts him off for the night. because his alien story seems to indicate his inebriation.

oh my god, it's like it doesn't bother him that he is a joke to his peers when he is getting results, but when he is separated from those results, being belittled hurts

“one is the loneliest number” <- SAID BY THE MAN who never wanted a partner….. oh my god…..

OH, the poor guy can’t even go to the bathroom in peace… which leaves him pissing against the wall… truly an all time low for my best friend mulder

this guy is talking to him while he goes to the bathroom. he says he has been watching his career for a while…….. since he was a promising young agent….. okay, who is this kurtzweil fellow? OH! HE CLAIMS TO BE “AN OLD FRIEND OF YOUR FATHER’S” EEK! i don’t think that will endear him to you 

HE CALLS THEM “FELLOW TRAVELERS”.... RED MR. MULDER CONFIRMED???

he’s trying to get away from this guy. kurtzweil heard he comes in there sometimes. huh, that’s interesting. i feel like we never see him drink. and he said he usually doesn’t, which he stated as much before. maybe he goes there on the tough nights. maybe he gets bored. maybe his general sobriety is being retconned in this film. very interesting.

bro is trying to get tf out of there… but kurtzweil says that michaud never tried to diffuse that bomb!! "they" wanted the medical quarantine office in that dallas building destroyed!! which is where the bodies came from!!! the dead they found were already dead before the bomb went off!!!!

ohhhh, mulder's eyes are alight again… he tells the doctor he thinks he’s full of shit, but i can see that spark in his drunk and pondering eyes.

he is now off to georgetown. where poor scully cannot sleep. in her white robe. sadly looking at the ceiling.

(i know nothing about DC. so scully lives in georgetown? then where does he live? how far away is that? you have to call a cab, so it's probably pretty far... how long are their journeys to work? and most importantly, how far are they from the museums?)

OH she immediately clocks that he is drunk and she is SUSPICIOUS. oh, i want to STUDY this interaction:

“oh, i woke you. did i wake you?” (he stumbles in)

“no”

“why not? it’s 3 in the morning” 

“are you drunk, mulder?” (i find it very fascinating she asks this without judgement- just very matter of fact)

“i… i… uh, was, until about 20 minutes ago, yeah”

“was that before or after you decided to come here?”

“what exactly are you implying?”

(she stares at him) “go home, mulder”

“no, get dressed”

“it’s late”

“get dressed”

“what are you doing?” 

“just get dressed, and i’ll explain on the way” <- ohhhhhh…. will she go with him?

she will, but only after a deep sigh

(post-viewing thoughts: i thought this was so fascinating because it felt like she thought he was going to break whatever tenuous barrier was between them. like, he was either going to try and sleep with her, or beg her to stay, and either one was something she couldn't handle. it felt like she assumed it was sexual, to me at least. and that firm rejection was very interesting. i shall unpack this for decades, i am sure)

back to texas, where the quarantine effort where stevie and the firemen fell in the hole is being resumed. AND CSM IS LIGHTING UP AS HE DESCENDS FROM HIS HELICOPTER!!! sadly and pensively smoking. 

the guy from before who we saw leave the firemen behind- bronschweig- has something to show CSM. AUGH, the fireman that they left in the hole is still alive, but he is very goopy??? why is this???

the black oil alien is eating him away!!! but they managed to slow it down by bringing him back to freezing!!!

he asks if CSM wants him to destroy “this one too, before it gestates” and he says no, no. we need to try the vaccine. and if it doesn’t work… burn it like the others. nasty.

AUGH....... the oil alien moved in the fireman's body a little bit. didn't care for it.

the agents are rolling up to the naval hospital at 4 am. i sure do hope mulder wasn’t the one driving. scully does not seem like the type to allow this.

LMAOOOO he is trying to get into the morgue by pushing around the young and inexperienced guard, and he does that thing where he calls him “son”, which makes me feel so weird, but the trickery of a guy named fox never fails to amuse me. he points out to scully once they're successfully inside that it’s pretty weird a hospital morgue is suddenly off limits on the orders of a general. yeah, seems sus.

mulder is unboxing this corpse, and it is horribly sticky!!! she’s gloving up to investigate. “god, it’s completely edematous”, she notes, and i giggled when she said that. scully using medical words makes my heart skip beats. i even giggled while gagging as she dragged her fingers through the human body that had become gel. and there was evidently absolutely no autopsy, she declares!!! the death report is obviously not true!!!

(shoutout to the props team)

STEALING A BODY with agents mulder and scully! but she is concerned! it takes a long time to conduct an autopsy! she’s worried they'll get caught!! “we’re being blamed for this man’s death. i’d like to know what he died of”, mulder points out, and you know what? i can’t really argue with that logic 

how is she gonna cut the body open if he’s goop?!?!

off to dr. kurtzweil’s apartment, where an outside investigation is taking place, and you bet mulder is going to crash it.

OH SHIT??? the cops who are in kurtweil's place accuse him of a very serious crime??? mulder also found a book he wrote about “global domination conspiracy” um… can we trust this guy? 

earlier when he said he was an OBGYN, my first thought was that he was one of those guys who works in the fertility clinics and makes the clone people… maybe he really is?

(after seeing the film, i think it was just a coincidence LMAO)

mulder make a joke about needing a pelvic examination and cracks the other cop up lmao. he has a way of charming people

GASP! as he tries to leave, he’s being summoned around the corner by kurtzweil!!! he says "they" know that he is talking to mulder. mulder is like how tf did you know all that about the goop guy in the hospital morgue?

well, let me tell you a story about a mouse disease, says kurtzweil.

and FEMA mentioned…. what are they doing in a mouse disease outbreak?? with their newfound powers? hmm.

MR. MULDER LORE!!!! they worked on a bio weapon together. “a plague to end all plagues… a planned armageddon” arranged with the aliens!! that's... not good.

so he says the president will declare a state of emergency when this plague arrives, and all power will come under FEMA/the secret government. and then i think he implies it will be transferred over to the aliens?

he says to go back to texas and dig… or else.

poor FEMA. always being blamed for something.

meanwhile, scully is working on getting an autopsy on the goopy body. but there are people approaching!!!

she hides!!! in the freezer!!!! but no!!!! her phone goes off!!!!

LMAOOOO!!! DESPITE the horrible timing, she picks up and says she can’t really talk right now- but mulder wants to know more about this infection she found. 

he wants her to come to dallas with him, but she says she can’t, she has a hearing tomorrow!!! OH SHIT!!! the army men are approaching, but just in time she hides under the bodies…… very gross

now mulder is in a lab far away. looks like she did not accompany him to texas.

JUST KIDDING!!! SHE DID!!! she walks in right as he is told about some archaeological bone fragments!!

she didn’t want to come, but whatever those men were infected with has a protein code she has never seen before!! and i KNOW scully knows her protein codes!!! it is a serious health threat!!!

time to look at the fossils with a microscope. oh, whatever she sees is crazy, judging by the face she is making

(i thought it was so funny how he tells the dude in the lab he wanted her to explore the bones because it was so conveniently timed AND because they were archaeological remains that were thousands of years old, and i'm thinking, is she trained in archaeology? or is that implied with a training in forensic pathology? at what age is a bone no longer in her area of expertise?!)

back to the texas site…. the scary government people are going to try the vaccine. BLEH, whatever was in that guy has come free through his chest!!!!!!!!!!! bronschweig is looking around all over the place, freaking tf out!!!! where did it go?!!!!!

bronschweig says he can see it?? in a cave.

it looks slimy. and kinda little? he’s loading up a syringe with some sort of liquid that must be the vaccine, but then it vanishes!!!

OH. IT IS NOT LITTLE. NOT LITTLE AT ALL!!!!

GIRL. IT EATED HIM!?!!!! bronschweig stabs the alien fellow with the vaccine, but the other scientists lock him down in the hole because he has been mauled!!!!!!! and they bury him!!!! damn!!! there are truly no alliances in this alien business!!!!

why are we in england now? OHHHHH! IT’S WELL-GROOMED MAN!!! his butler says he has a call….

(okay, yeah, his name is “well-manicured man”, as the subtitles show, but come on!! it’s been 5 seasons of me calling him the wrong name!! i can’t switch it up now!!)

CSM says there is an emergency meeting TONIGHT. and strughold called it- whoever tf that is.

i have a feeling i am supposed to be most sympathetic towards well-groomed man. especially as he runs for what i presume to be his crying grandchild who hurt their knee. he was also the only one to advocate for working alongside the resistance, which morally elevated him above the others. but still. he is IN the alien groupchat, which you do not enter by being a morally clean fellow

syndicate meeting time!! who is this strughold fellow? aww, well-manicured man’s grandson broke his legs :(

so, breaking news: the alien virus has mutated into a new entity! they need to reevaluate their role in the colonization! well-groomed man points out that they have been used this whole time!! and they dismiss all of his wisdom!

so, they are once again going to ignore his advice of trying to have any hope. but there have been complications… allow us to look at a TV to illustrate

it is mulder and scully on the security footage!!! someone must have tipped him off to what is going on!! and they suspect kurtzweil. so he must go. and so must mulder.

but if they kill mulder, they risk turning one man's quest into a wider crusade… so they must take away what he cannot live without… 

cut to scully!!!! NOOOOOO!

ahhhhh!! i left off at 54:52, i feel that this is an okay place to leave for the night, because my writeups take so long. i started this almost 2 hours ago, and i think a break is appropriate here. so! until tomorrow!!!

ahhhh… so many things to analyze. while trying to fall asleep, i couldn’t stop thinking about the following: scully teasing mulder at the very beginning of the film; how she doesn’t want to work for the FBI anymore without him, and how she no longer feels she can make a change there (and how she Needs to make change rather than simply earn a paycheck); how she is trying to find her place in life still; his sadness at this fact; how he went to the bar and got smashed to cope, spilling his guts out to the waitress, clearly crushed that the world thinks he’s a joke when he doesn't have the answers to dull the pain; how he showed up to scully’s place drunk and she was confused, and the careful line of their relationship was being walked upon when he did so, but she still followed him into the hospital; and then how she immediately started nerding out about the goopy guy, and then hid in the morgue to autopsy him!!!!! and then there’s the whole thing with the well-groomed man and the aliens and colonization and blah blah blah, but come on!! i want my babies back together!! kicking ass and taking names!!! so.

part 2 shall commence shortly!

[itsthemorph]

JANAURY DAY 5 - Ashen Pines AU - @rose-of-pollux

January 3rd, 2025 - another surprisingly fun one, lyrics are from All Eyes on Me by Bo Burnham

[normcore-tertiary-character]

Huh, I always forget that the clone episode ends with a fist fight in a junk yard and that the fan convention where they're married is a different episode entirely

Y'all, Xena is a brilliant show and everyone should watch it

[plutotheplum]

Resonance

sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!

summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence

wc: 4.5k

a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3

also posted on ao3!

You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place. 

A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations. 

The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.  

Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair. 

A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.

The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.

“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”

He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”

He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything . 

“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”

Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.

“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.

He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.

A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him. 

He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.

“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.

Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”

“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”

He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.

“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap. 

His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”

“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”

You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.

“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.

Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot. 

“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”

Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.

“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows. 

His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.

Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.

He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .” 

“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest. 

He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push. 

“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”

“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup. 

“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words. 

“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.

You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.

He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.

“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.

He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.

You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.

He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.

“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.

“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”

He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.

“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”

You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.

“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.

There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.

“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.

You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.” 

“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”

A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.

Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.

“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.

You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.

The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.

“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe. 

Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.

“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.

He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.

“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”

He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare. 

Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.

You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties. 

“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.

“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.

He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”

He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers. 

“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.

He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.

Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric. 

“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”

That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 

A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.

“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly. 

His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”

His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.

“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing. 

“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.” 

“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.

The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.

“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”

The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.” 

A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.

“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”

“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.

“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”

“I wasn’t imagining-“

“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.

His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.

You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.

“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.” 

It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up. 

You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.

“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.

You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. 

“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”

You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.

“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”

You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away. 

“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.

He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.

“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”

His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.

“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace. 

“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.

“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.

It’s going to be a long night.

[chaoticwriting]

New Gotham Rouge

Okay, in Danny's defense, it sounds like a very good idea when he thought about it. Danny is currently laying on top of the clocktower looking at the smog filled sky. A few stars can be seen occasionally while he is staring and thinking about his decision.

When Danny is outed as Phantom. He ran away as his parents tried to capture and cut him open. He hid in a nearby cave for a few days as he thought of what to do when he suddenly had a brilliant idea. Let's fake his own death!

Danny stole a few parts and materials around Amity Park and made a makeshift bomb and rushed towards the GIW base. He freed all the ghosts and made a cinematic scene of exploding himself thus taking the whole building with him.

Danny also sends the ghost to set up a few bombs in his house after making sure Jazz, Sam and Tucker are not there. Just as he 'exploded' himself, the house also exploded destroying the portal and all the remaining research paper about anything ghost related.

Danny dove into the ground as the explosion distracted everyone and chose one direction to fly towards. A few hours later, he found himself in Gotham and surprisingly there is a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham. He flies around invisible while looking for a place to stay and he lands on the clocktower to rest after flying for so long.

Now, Danny doesn't know what he should do because he realizes one key component in staying alive for him. Obsession. Contrary to popular belief (Sam), his obsession is not protection. It is love. Love as in any act of love will fulfill his obsession. Him protecting his town is an act of love towards his town people. Him loving and studying space is an act of love towards himself. Him not taking revenge against his family and people that wrong him is an act of love towards humanity.

So, long story short, he needs to find a way to fulfill his obsession. He is laying on top of the clocktower and suddenly a very good idea comes into his mind.

A few weeks later

-Batcave-

Dick: Are you still searching for the glitter thief?

Tim: Yes. And it's driving me insane how little clue there is of this thief. I even tried asking Selina and even she is impressed by this thief's MO.

Steph: Are you sure you need to be stressing about this thief? It's probably a group of kids stealing glitters just because they can.

Tim: Are you telling me a group of kids can do a heist better than Selina? And this thief or group of thieves for some reason only stole biodegradable paint and glitters from all across the city without us finding where they store them? There must be something I am missing.

Suddenly, an alert appears at the batcomputer and catches everyone's attention. A live broadcast is showing Joker standing in front of a switch as Commissioner Gordon hanging from a rope on top of a pool of acid. Every single batfam suits up and rushes into Gotham to find the Joker before anything can happen.

Joker: Hahahaha. Good evening Gotham and Bats! Today, I have a dear friend of yours playing my game. In front of me is a switch to activate a time bomb that will explode a whole district if not dismantled. You have 20 minutes to dismantle the bomb and with every minute that passes, I will slowly lower the Commissioner into the pool of acid.

Joker then walks slowly towards the switch and flips it.

Joker: Your time starts now! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Batman and the crew rushes towards Gotham as they turn Gotham upside down for the bomb. 5 minutes passed and they become desperate enough that they even roped in some of the rogues like Penguin, Harley, Ivy and Croc. But no matter what they do, they can't find the bomb.

Just as the last minute passes, everyone expects a big explosion engulfing Gotham. Except there is no sound at all. In fact, it is eerily quiet. Everyone turns on Joker live broadcast to see even the man is confused. He turns around and sees Gordon having his feet inside the pool of acid like nothing is happening.

Suddenly a giggle appears. Everyone that hears the giggles starts to get goosebumps as suddenly, a kid with a half clown facemask at the bottom of his face, a green leather jacket, black jeans and white hair appears behind Joker. His hands are holding his stomach as his giggles turn into laughter that is eerily similar to Joker.

???:Hello everyone. I am Trickster. And I am here to crash the party.

Everyone: ????

Trickster: Hehehe, it's so funny to see everyone's confused expression. But no worries I am here to have fun. See, I even have your toys with me.

The Trickster phases his hand into his body and pulls out a very familiar brick. He throws it to Joker and the Joker runs away screaming and trips on his feet falling down the stairs.

The Trickster: Hahahahaha. Do you see his face? Hahaha. Oh boy, I should have recorded this. Hey this is a live stream right? Someone clip that. Anyway, I have defused the bomb. And the acid isn't actually acid. It's just colored water with a light beam at the bottom. I still can't believe he doesn't check the acid pool first.

The Trickster then goes towards Gordon and pulls him down from the rope. After Gordon touches the ground, he unties him and pats Gordon's shoulder.

Trickster: Well I guess this is good enough for the apology.

Gordon: Apology?

Trickster: *Rubbing his neck* Yeah, about that. I was the one that glitter bombed your office last week. I mistook your office for another corrupt policeman and accidentally placed it on your desk. I am also technically the cause of you getting caught today. In my defense, you shouldn't startle me like that.

Gordon: Wait, you're the kid that punched me.

Trickster: I'm not a kid. I'm 16. Plenty old if you ask me. Whatever, here is your phone. Go call Batman to pick you up. I want to go back to sleep after having fun tonight. Adios.

Gordon: Wait-

Trickster then disappears into thin air like he is never there in the first place. If not for his phone in his hand and later confirmation from everyone that watched the live stream, Gordon might have admitted himself into Arkham.

That is merely the start of the many incidents involving Gotham's newest rogue the Trickster.

Part 2

[jinwoosbabyboo]

“Why Are You in My House?”

LADS men reacting to you asking this question after you gave them a key/code to your place.

Zayne

MC: Why are you in my house?

Zayne: You asked me to come over and cook you dinner once you got back from your 2 day mission

MC: I did?

Zayne: Yes

MC: I don’t remember that how did you even get in here

Zayne: You gave me a code

MC: No I didn’t

Zayne: …. Did you hit your head while on that mission

MC: I don’t think so

Zayne: I’m surprised you’re even thinking at all considering your memory of the last 3 days

MC: Hey! I remember the last 3 days

Zayne: What did you eat before bed last night?

MC: …..

Zayne: That’s what I thought …. I’ll run some tests on your head tomorrow now sit down

Rafayel

*MC wakes up to Rafayel laying in bed staring at her*

MC: Why are you in my house?!

Rafayel: You gave me a code

MC: For emergencies

Rafayel: This is an emergency

MC: What is it

Rafayel: You were ignoring me

MC: I was sleeping is that alright with you?

Rafayel: How was I supposed to know that?

MC: I almost punched you in the face don’t ever do that again

Rafayel: ….

MC: ….

Rafayel: You’re so hot when you’re mad

MC: Shut up

Rafayel: Even your voice is sexy when you’re mad fuck tell me to kill myself

MC: GET OUT!

Xavier

*MC is startled awake from a loud crash and explosion from the kitchen*

MC: WHAT THE FUCK?!

Xavier: Why did you rush out here like that?

MC: Why are you trying to destroy my kitchen?!

Xavier: I was trying to surprise you with breakfast

MC: Xavier I gave you a code for emergencies please don’t create one by blowing up my kitchen

Xavier: Are you going to take back my code privileges

MC: I’m thinking about it

Xavier: 🥺

MC: Don’t give me those eyes

Xavier: What eyes? 🥺

MC: …

MC: Fine! But stay out of my kitchen

Xavier: ☺️

Sylus

Sylus: Wake up kitten you’ve slept long enough

MC: Why are you in my house?

Sylus: You gave me a code sweetie remember

*Sylus pokes MC in the forehead*

MC: So that means you can just invite yourself over whenever you feel like it ?

Sylus: Precisely

MC: What if I wasn’t home?

Sylus: I’d wait for you

MC: What if I had other hunters over?

Sylus: I’d tell them we’re besties

MC: What if I was getting out the shower?

Sylus: Nothing I haven’t already seen

MC: 😳

Sylus: Get dressed the kids missed you they’re making you breakfast

MC: We don’t have kids?

Sylus: Luke & Kieran

MC: My boys!

Sylus: Why don’t you get this excited for me? 🤨

[kateschi]

get them fangirls away!

synopsis: katsuki’s greatest battle isn’t on the field—it’s surviving relentless fangirls. good thing he has you to shield him

pairing: secondyear!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki doesn’t run away from fights. he’s a fighter—loud, explosive, and always ready for a challenge.

but this?

this is different. this is a nightmare of his own making, and no amount of explosions is going to fix it.

“dynamight-senpai!” the shrill voices echo down the hallway like a siren’s call, and katsuki’s eye twitches.

his palms spark with irritation as he quickens his pace, trying to lose them in the maze of ua corridors.

but they’re relentless, chasing after him like their lives depend on it. why the hell don’t these brats know when to quit?

“dynamight-senpai! wait for us!”

he clenches his jaw. they’re like a pack of wolves, except these wolves ask for autographs and selfies instead of sinking their teeth in. still, they’re dangerous.

his eyes dart around, scanning the hallway for any possible escape route, when he spots you up ahead.

you’re leaning casually against your locker, completely unaware of the chaos barrelling toward you.

a plan clicks into place immediately.

he pushes off the ground, sprinting towards you with quick, desperate steps.

the frantic pounding of his footsteps catches your attention just as he skids to a stop behind you, ducking down to use you as a human shield.

“katsuki—what the hell are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide with confusion as you turn to face him.

“fangirls!” he hisses, crouching even lower behind you, his breath slightly ragged. his red eyes flicker toward the hallway entrance where the fangirls are rounding the corner, their faces lighting up the moment they spot him.

before you can ask any more questions, the first-years come to a screeching halt in front of you, out of breath but still buzzing with excitement.

they don’t even seem to notice you, their eyes locked onto katsuki who is half-hidden behind you like a kid caught in trouble.

“dynamight-senpai!” the leader squeals, pushing her way to the front of the group. “we’ve been looking all over for you!”

katsuki grits his teeth and curses under his breath, barely peeking over your shoulder. his hand grips your shoulder a little tighter, holding onto you for dear life.

“go away,” he growls, but his usual explosive tone is muffled by your presence, sounding more irritated than intimidating.

the fangirls, however, are undeterred. in fact, they seem even more excited by the sight of their idol so close—and apparently, within reach.

“we just want a picture, dynamight-senpai!” one of them pleads, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “just one, please?”

“no,” he snaps, but it’s lacking the usual bite. his eyes dart to yours, desperation flashing across his face for a split second. “damn it, why won’t they leave?”

you bite back a laugh. the mighty katsuki, hiding behind his girlfriend from a group of over-eager first-years. this is too good.

taking a step forward, you square your shoulders and block katsuki from view even more. “I think you heard him. he said no.”

the leader of the fangirls blinks, her enthusiasm faltering just a bit as she finally acknowledges your presence. “wait... are you...?”

you raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a knowing smirk. “yeah, I’m his girlfriend.”

the words hang in the air for a moment, and you can practically see the wave of shock that ripples through the group.

the girls exchange stunned looks, their expressions ranging from disbelief to awe.

“dynamight-senpai has a girlfriend?!” one of them whispers, her eyes going wide.

katsuki smirks as he straightens up a little behind you. “yeah, you heard her. my girlfriend. and if you don’t back off, she’ll beat your asses into the ground.”

you glance back at him, giving him a pointed look. “seriously? that’s your plan?”

“damn right it is,” he mutters, crossing his arms as if he’s made the smartest move ever. “they’re annoyin’ the hell outta me. figured I’d let you handle it.”

one of the girls in the back gasps, clutching her hands to her chest.

“wait, we didn’t mean to upset him! we’re just...we’re such big fans of dynamight-senpai! he’s so amazing!”

“yeah!” another chimes in, her eyes wide and pleading. “we didn’t mean any harm!”

you sigh, looking them over. they’re not bad kids—just... overly enthusiastic.

but katsuki is your boyfriend, and while you’re used to his temper, you’re not about to let anyone, even a group of fangirls, mess with him.

“look, I get it,” you say, your tone softening slightly, though you still keep it firm.

“you’re excited and all, but katsuki isn’t some kind of photo op. he’s just trying to get through his day. how about you give him some space?”

the leader looks embarrassed now, her earlier excitement faltering. “we didn’t mean to bother him...”

katsuki huffs from behind you. “you did.”

you glance at him over your shoulder, shaking your head slightly. “so helpful.”

he grumbles under his breath but stays quiet, letting you handle it. you turn back to the girls, offering them a small smile. “just...be respectful, okay?”

the leader nods quickly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “y-yeah, we’ll leave him alone. sorry for bothering you, dynamight-senpai and h/n-senpai.”

katsuki grunts, obviously relieved they’re finally getting the hint. the group lingers for a moment longer before they start shuffling away down the hall, their chatter much quieter now.

once they are gone, you turn to katsuki, raising an eyebrow. “so... hiding behind your girlfriend now? that’s a new one.”

he scowls, though the faint blush creeping up his neck was hard to miss. “shut up. I wasn’t hiding.”

you can’t help but laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “sure, ‘cause using me as a shield isn’t hiding.”

“tch. you handled it, didn’t you?” he shoves his hands into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “better than blowin’ ‘em up.”

you smile, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “you’re lucky I’ve got your back.”

he grumbles something under his breath, clearly too stubborn to admit you were right, but he takes his hand out of his pocket to intertwine your fingers together.

of course, that isn’t without a side-eye when you grin.

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