#which showed that Five cared about his family more than anything in the world

[eternalnat]

I rarely make tumblr posts, but I am so infuriated by this situation I need to say something about it.

Five Hargreeves, who spent 45 years alone in a post-apocalyptic world, and every single moment of his life since was spent trying to get back to his family. The Five who ran himself dry for 2 weeks straight trying to stop the end of the world, and reunite his family. The Five who slaughtered an entire board of directors just to ensure him family's safety. Who turned back time himself, while bleeding out on the floor, just to save his siblings. You're telling me, that the Five whose entire motivation for living was once saving his family, is the same Five, who in s4 has entirely given up, and in the Subway is the one trying to convince Lila to stop looking after 6 and a half years? The Five who never once stopped trying to return to his family in all 45 years of surviving alone, decides to settle down in a greenhouse and live out a cottagecore life?

Furthermore, the same Five who told Lila that Diego loved her, who reassured his brother that his wife wasn't cheating on him and loved him dearly, the same Five who got on with Lila only due to the fact that they both cared for and loved Diego, the person they had in common, is the same Five who stole his brother's wife, whom he had three children with, just because the writers were excited that Aidan Gallagher was finally legal?

Five who hated authority, who despised when people gave him commands, who wanted nothing more than to retire in s3, is now working for the CIA and willingly calling his boss, 'sir'?

Five who used to be so paranoid and suspicious of everyone and everything, who used to solve problems alone and came to epiphanies that saved the world, who didn't even trust a past version of himself, also didn't realise that his boss of many years had an umbrella tattooed on his wrist?

Everything that once stood out about his character is now gone, as if the writers themselves entirely forgot about his existence until the last moment, and added him in as an afterthought, without thinking of the effect he would have on the story.

[brionysea]

when it comes to the umbrella academy, a lot of people seem to think that the first half is great and the second half is terrible. personally, I think only the first *season* is great, or even good. here's why:

the mission statement at the end of season 1 is fixing viktor, but viktor isn't the only broken one, so you can infer that they're all going to have to fix *each other* - as a family, the one thing their abuser never let them be. and the world's burning down around them because of the most dramatic sibling confrontation to ever grace the earth, but they're holding hands and escaping together and surviving the impossible with the intent to move forward, even if that means momentarily moving backwards. it's a masterful allegory for finally growing up, accepting responsibility for your personal trauma and tragedy and how they shaped you, and the moment you take that power back by choosing to heal your inner child, only after being slapped in the face with the fact that if you don't, it *will* destroy everything you've ever built, ever cared about, and ever could.

and then the rest of the show forgets all of it. as it were, it goes in the *exact opposite direction.*

on the surface, the second season isn't *as* bad as the subsequent ones are. but season 3 and 4's faults can be traced back to season 2 by how it pivoted away from the serious subject matter that the story (not the plot - the *story*) was heavily baked in, leaning hard into the goofier elements instead, without ever understanding the contrast that those conflicting elements served to highlight. it made them both more powerful; the jokes were funnier because you were just devastated, and the trauma was more devastating because you were just in tears laughing. the emotional roller coaster is key to understanding these people, and you *have* to take the serious stuff seriously for it to work. at least half of the show doesn't, and as a result, the emotional moments feel hollow.

controversial opinion: as a character, luther is better in season 1 than he is anywhere else. he's more unlikable, but that's because he's implicitly there to show what *not* to do - even if he'd succeeded narratively by locking viktor up and saving the world, he still failed thematically by emulating their father and continuing the cycle of abuse - so luther's a character that's being very effectively used to add to the core theme of the story. he feels like a real, frustrating person, whose brain chemistry got messed up by years of abuse and isolation, all for the crime of thinking his father loved him and wanted the best for him. not like a made up guy on your screen doing silly stuff solely for your entertainment.

season 2 was also the start of the characters getting love interests instead of storylines, which season 1 never would have *dreamed* of; klaus and dave's tragic romance only served to further klaus's character arc, viktor's creepy boyfriend was actually manipulating him the whole time, five's fractured-psyche-mannequin was a narrative tool to let us see into the head of such an emotionally reticent character, and so on. the romance served the character, but fairly quickly into the show's progression, it felt like the character started serving the romance. five was immune to this curse for a long time due to aidan gallagher's age, which is why he's (for the most part) the best, most consistent character across the show, because they had to use their *imagination* for him and actually *write an arc* instead of falling back on tired romance tropes that any selection of characters could slot into to fill the dead space.

after season 1, the umbrella academy is entertaining, but it doesn't have anything to *say.* which is extremely disappointing when the show initially made such a strong case for what it wanted to be.

[book-place]

Never Grow Up

Warnings: slight mentions of child abandonment, violence, cursing, gunshot wound, weapons, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader

*not my gif*

Summary: Your family might have grown over the years, but your bond always stayed the same

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Your little hands wrapped around my finger

Bruce looked down at you, only a couple weeks old, so tiny. So fragile. So innocent and unknowing to the horrors of the world.

You had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying, so of course he had gotten up with you, especially after Jason threatened to throw you out of the window if you woke him up again.

Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Finally, after what felt like hours of crying and screaming, you seemed to calm down and you looked up at Bruce in an innocent wonder.

He reached down and began to adjust your shirt that had moved to an awkward angle with all of your squirming.

He paused when you reached up slowly and wrapped your hand around his index finger.

Ever since your mother had dropped you off here, claiming to Bruce that you were his daughter and she didn’t want to take care of you anymore, he had vowed he would do anything to protect you.

As he looked down at you with soft features, he couldn’t help but smile softly, “Hi, honey.” He whispered.

And it’s so quiet in the world tonight

It was weird.

All night you had been completely silent, no screaming, no crying.

While Alfred, Dick, and Bruce were all gratefully taking this opportunity to sleep without worrying about having to get up every five minutes, Jason on the other hand, didn’t like how quiet it was, it felt as if something was wrong.

As silently as he could, he snuck through the halls and into the nursery that Bruce had immediately had put in as soon as you showed up.

Don’t get him wrong, Jason didn’t like you at all. Nope. No way, no how. You were just an annoying baby that moved right into the manor not too long after him, which was only about a month ago.

He had still been in the process of adjusting to his new life, and then a baby was thrown into the mix, so if anything, he hated you.

As he opened the door and crept into your room, he didn’t really know what he was expecting. But he certainly wasn’t expecting you to be wide awake, just staring at the ceiling, not screaming and not crying like you always did whenever you were awake.

Even as you watched Jason approach you, you didn’t scream out and begin the waterworks that he was inevitably waiting for.

Pretty soon, Jason was standing right over you, staring down at you with just as much curiosity as you were to him.

Jason hesitated before slowly reaching down and gently picking you up.

All you did was stare up at him, and he continued to stare down at you.

Your little eyelids flutter cause your dreaming

Jason sat with four year old you on his lap, bouncing his knees up and down as you giggled every time you went up, almost flying in the air if it weren’t for his hands holding your sides, keeping you from going airborne.

Dick sat on the other side of Jason, secretly snapping a picture on his phone before turning his head back to the cartoon that the two had put on the tv for you. Though it seemed that they were enjoying it more than you were.

Bruce was out for the day with Alfred and they hesitantly trusted the boys to watch you, after a whole lot of begging on the younger ones' parts.

“Higher, Jay!” You called suddenly, still giggled.

The boy smiled slightly before bouncing you higher, causing Dick to look at the two of you nervously.

“You know, Jay, I think she’s going high enough.” He said, not taking his nervous gaze off of you, ready to leap forward at any moment if you were to fly out of his younger brother's arms.

He just shrugged, continuing to bounce you higher.

Fifteen minutes, and almost a heart attack, later, your giggled stopped and Jason’s leg slowed, and he looked down to see if you were okay, only to see you leaning against his chest with closed eyes and even breathing.

“Dickie,” Jason hissed, trying to get his older brother's attention.

He hummed in return, not looking away from the new cartoon.

“She’s asleep.”

That made Dick look over and he cooed over you in adoration.

“I think she’s dreaming.” Jason continued softly, watching you.

Dick nodded in return, snapping another photo.

So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

“No, daddy!” You screamed, running away from an exhausted looking Bruce.

“It’s way past your bedtime, honey.” He practically begged, just wanting to go and get a nap in before he had to go on patrol.

You ran around the dining room table again, forcing Bruce to try and go after you.

Jason walked into the room calmly sipping a cup of coffee, “Wow, B. The five year old is faster than you.”

“Shut up.” The order man grunted in return, “Or help me get her to bed.”

His adopted son pretended to think about it, “Nah, I’m good.” Before turning on his heel and going back the way he came.

Bruce grumbled under his breath, promising himself that he would give Jason an earful later about respect.

He stopped running when an idea came to his mind, “Hey, n/n. If you get ready for bed then I’ll give you a surprise.”

You slowed your running in curiosity and looked at your father, “What kind of surprise?”

Bruce shrugged, “Guess you're going to have to see.”

The curiosity that you were feeling got the best of you and you quickly ran up the many stairs and got into your pj’s and hopped in bed.

A couple seconds after, Bruce walked in with something behind his back, which made you crane your neck to try and see what he was holding.

He bent down at one of your outlets without saying anything, plugging something in with his back covering what he was doing, then stood up and flicked off the lights.

You looked at him in confusion before he said, “Look up.”

So you did.

The sight above you made you gasp, it was the bat symbol on your ceiling, from the nightlight that Bruce had just placed in.

Batman had always been your favorite Gotham vigilante and you told your family about it all of the time, though your two brothers constantly tried to tell you that Nightwing and Robin were way better.

Bruce was able to slip out of the room unnoticed as you continued to stare up at your ceiling, not taking your eyes off of it until they started to droop.

And pretty soon, you were peacefully asleep.

To you, everything’s funny

You waddled down the stairs, scurrying into the dining room with a large grin on your face, following the delicious smell of Alfred’s pancakes.

When you got there, you were greeted with the sight of your father, Alfred, your brothers, and even your new brother, Tim, who just joined you guys at the manor about two months ago.

Six year old you had been ecstatic to gain a new brother, thinking that you could get away with more than you could with your other brothers.

“Good morning, n/n!” Dick called cheerfully, rushing over and scooping you up in his arms before plopping you down into the seat next to his and across from Tim.

“Morning, Timmy!” You exclaimed excitedly, still in the phase of becoming joyful whenever you would see the new face.

He hummed lazily in return, head in his hand as if he was putting his entire weight into it against the table. There were dark circles under his eyes that insinuated yet another restless night for him.

Sitting in front of him was a bowl of cereal, barely touched, with a spoon resting in it.

Just as you were about to turn to your own breakfast, Tim’s arm fell under the weight of his head and his eyes were closed, making him fall face first into his bowl.

Everyone looked up in surprise as the boy shot straight up in his seat, now fully awake.

Before anyone could even ask if he was okay, you let out a loud laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed.

You were laughing so hard that you had doubled over slightly against the table with your arms wrapped around your stomach, “Silly Timmy!” You exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in between giggles.

He grumbled under his breath, taking a napkin and harshly wiping milk off his face, “Glad someone finds it funny.”

You’ve got nothing to regret

Bruce stood before you with his hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised so high that they were lost in his hair.

“Care fo explain?” He asked sternly.

You shook your head back and forth quickly, trying to put your hand over your mouth as if it would hide your giggles, “No, daddy!” You cheered back, trying to keep up your innocent act.

“You’re six now, Y/n,” He reminded you, “You should start taking responsibility for your actions.”

“But I didn’t do it!” You protested, though your wide grin told a whole different story.

“I suppose the vase just fell over on its own then,” Your father said sarcastically.

You jumped on that story, nodding your head vigorously, “Yeah! It fell over on its own, daddy!”

He sighed, bending down and scooping you up into his arms, playfully poking your stomach, “You’re too stubborn for your own good…” He trailed off before snickering slightly, “I suppose you get that from me.”

I’d give all I have honey, if you could stay like that

“Jay Jay!” You cheered, immediately hopping into your elder brother's arms as soon as he exited the batmobile.

With a small chuckle, he caught you effortlessly before bringing you to a tight hug to his chest, “And how’s my favorite little sister doing this evening?” He asked jokingly.

You laughed loudly, shaking your head at his silly actions, “I’m your only sister!” You accused.

He pretended to think, “Hmm, is that so?”

Before you could try and reinforce that, Tim and Dick exited the vehicle as well, “Timmy! Dickie!” You cheered, causing Jason to scowl at the pair for pulling your attention away.

Dick squealed excitedly, rushing over and ripping you out of his grip and into his own, “N/n!”

Tim reached over and ruffled your hair slightly in affection.

“Daddy! Daddy!” If it was possible, your face lit up even more as your father appeared, shedding off his cowl and striding over to you.

“Hey there, honey.” He greeted with a small chuckle, gently removing you from his eldest sons grip and bringing you into his own, “Isn’t it a little past your bedtime?” He teased, playfully rubbing his nose against yours.

You giggled at the tickling feeling and pull back slightly, “Nuh uh, daddy! Grandpa said I can stay up to see you!”

“Is that so?” Bruce threw a playfully accusing glare to Alfred in the corner of the room, who held his hands up in surrender with a small smile, “Come on,” He huffed teasingly, “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Dickie!” You exclaimed, straining to look over your shoulder at the boy, “Airplane! Airplane!”

With a wide grin, the boy skipped over and carefully removed you from your fathers arms and laid you horizontally so that you could spread out your wingspan and pretend you were flying.

“We should call it the batplane,” Tim snickered.

“Batplane! Batplane!” You chanted in return.

Everyone’s eyes softened as they watched you laugh loudly.

Oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up

“Go fish!” You exclaimed sassily, giggling wildly at the feigned expressions of horror that your entire family wore all around the table.

Dick let out a fake groan, dropping his head into his hands, “How do you always win this game?”

You shrugged happily, humming slightly as you picked up the cards, “I’m awesome.” You giggled again.

“Who wants cookies?” Alfred entered the room with a soft smile, it widening slightly at the sound of all the children’s excited squeals.

Dick, Tim, and Jason all shot up out of their seats and began shoving and tackling each other to get to the tray of desserts first while Bruce just ran a hand down his face tiredly.

“Uh, uh, uh,” The older man calmly sidestepped the herd of boys, “Miss. Y/n gets the first one because she is not acting inappropriately.”

You giggled again at their groans of protest, happily reaching for a cookie and leaning up to plant a quick kiss on Alfred’s cheek, “Thank you!” You chirpped, plopping back down into your seat and munching on the treat.

Don't you ever grow up

“What is this thing?” Damian asked in disgust, looking down at your grinning form.

Bruce sighed, bending down and picking you up, you automatically wrapping your arms around his neck in return, “She is your little sister.” He introduced, “Y/n, this is your brother, Damian.”

“More brothers!” You cheered.

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “That thing is not my sister.” He declared stubbornly, turning a harsh glare your way.

“Don’t talk or look at her like that,” Your father scolded with a scowl, but your smile didn’t drop.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dami!” You giggled a little bit, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes.

“Damian.” He corrected through gritted teeth, “My name is Damian.”

“She’s your sister,” Bruce hissed at him, “You have to learn to deal with that.”

“Dami!” You giggled wildly, making Bruce tighten his grip on you so you didn’t slip out by mistake.

The boy glared at you in a way that promised danger until your father had to step away with you in fear of something actually happening.

“I know you don’t like it,” The man said softly, “But you’re gonna be staying with me at the manor now, and you’re going to have to get used to her.”

The young boy crossed his arms over his chest and began grumbling under his breath. Though, his glare did lessen a bit after those words.

Just stay this little

“What do you think you are doing?” It had been four weeks since Damian moved into the manor, and he had avoided you at all costs.

You whipped around with wide eyes, “Dami!” You squeaked in shock, looking up at your elder brother nervously, “I was just-“

“Have I not specifically informed you not to touch Titus?” He seethed, standing in his bedroom door menacingly.

You looked down guiltily and began shuffling your feet, dropping your hand that had been softly stroking the dog's soft fur from where he was perched on the bed, “I’m sorry,” You mumbled.

The boy scoffed with a roll of his eyes, “I do not want your pathetic apology.” He told you matter of factly.

“Titus is just such a sweet puppy,” You sadly looked up at the dog that had perked up in wonderment as to why you stopped giving him attention.

That made Damian pause, “Oh… yes. He is a good dog.” He replied hesitantly.

“Sorry for bothering you,” You mumbled again, trying to make your way past him.

“Wait,” He surprised both you and himself with his word, but you froze nonetheless, “I suppose it would not hurt for you to pet him for a few more moments.”

A wide grin broke out and your face and you automatically dashed back to the creature and began rubbing behind his ears excitedly.

“I love animals,” You began rambling happily, “They’re so adorable and sweet. I would like to have more pets, I need to tell daddy that we don’t have enough. Maybe I’ll get Jay Jay a snake, I think he’ll like one-“

For the first time, Damian looked at you in a different light. Instead of just seeing some eight year old nuisance, he finally saw a kid only a couple years younger than him that might possibly share some common interests. Maybe having you as a sister wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up

“Where are you?” Jason called in a sing-song voice, fighting off a smile as he pretended not to be able to hear your poorly muffled giggles.

He stalked down the long aisles of the bookcases in the library, where he had heard your little feet scamper off into during the beginning of the hide-and-go seek game.

Even though you were now ten years old, you weren’t any better at the game than you were at four years old, but Jason never had the heart to tell you that.

“Are you... over here?” He dramatically rounded one of the corners, raising his voice as he spoke even though he knew full well that you wouldn’t be there.

The sound of your laughter only increased at his failure and the smile grew on his lips as he strode closer and closer to your ‘hiding spot’.

“Now,” He mockingly thought out loud, “I wonder where she could be…”

Right on cue, he threw open a small closet that was tucked in between two bookcases, emitting a shrill shriek from your lips at the sudden brightness and your brother's face grinning down at you.

“Found ya,” He teased.

You laughed, “I wanna do it again, Jay!” You eagerly jumped up and skirted past him, “Count again!”

He chuckled, but placed his hands over his eyes and followed your instructions.

Don't you ever grow up

“And how was your day today, Miss. Y/n?” Alfred asked with a small smile, glancing over his shoulder to where you sat propped up on the counter, kicking your legs back and forth.

“It was good, I saw a puppy today!” You exclaimed excitedly, seemingly having waited for that very question so that you could share the good news.

“Did this puppy happen to live in this manor?” The man hummed in curiosity.

You shook your head back and forth, getting even more excited, “Nope! My teacher brought it into school today and his name is…”

Alfred just listened and nodded along with your joyful rambling, loving the way you got so excited about small things, even as you got older.

It could stay this simple

Many years ago, a tradition had started between you and your siblings that every Friday night before they went on patrol you would all have a movie night in your at-home theater.

Bruce had joined you that night and you were all lounged around on various different couches and chairs comfortably, watching whatever movie Damian had insisted upon watching.

Your father leaned back in his seat with a contempt sigh, grateful for some time to relax after a long day and what would surely turn into a long night.

The credits began rolling, and instead of hearing you and your siblings begin to chat loudly amongst yourselves, it stayed dead silent.

He quickly snapped his head over in alarm, only for his eyes to soften.

You were leaning your head against Dicks shoulder with his head on top of yours, sleeping soundly on a nearby couch. Tim, Damian, and Jason were also asleep on their nearby pieces of furniture.

A small smile tugged at the ends of the man’s lips and he stood up silently, he would let them all rest. He could survive one night without them.

I won't let nobody hurt you

“I’m gonna kill you!” Your classmate roared, reeling his fist back and getting ready to release it in your face.

Unwavering, you stood your ground with your arms in front of yourself protectively as you stared him down, completely unafraid.

He was a stereotypical mean boy jock that just so happened to make the wrong comment in front of you. And when you called him out on it, he had been less than happy. Everything quickly escalated from there into a full out fist fight outside after school.

Easily, you ducked and side stepped his pathetic attempt at a punch, sending him stumbling forward because he made the rookie mistake of putting all his weight behind it.

Reaching over, you socked him in the face in one swift motion, sending him flying back down.

“You bitch!” He cried, emitting some laughs from the onlooking crowd due to his embarrassed state.

Quickly, he got up and went to lunge at you.

“What is happening?” Damian’s voice made everyone freeze, your older brother having been able to intimidate everyone in the school.

The boy froze at the sound of the older boy and slowly turned towards him with wide eyes, paling even further at the sight of his glare.

“Sh-she-“ He tried to stutter out.

Damian paid him no mind, calmly turning to face you, “What happened?”

“He tried to hit me after I called him out for being an asshole,” You spit out.

Menacingly, your brother turned to said boy and the onlooking crowd held their breath in preparation for what was to come.

A fury seemed to set in the already embarrassed boys gut, because he let out a scream of rage and went to lunge at both of you this time.

“What the hell is going on here?” Yet another booming voice stopped all further action as none other than Jason Todd came stomping angrily through the crowd towards you and Damian.

If everyone was scared of Damian, then they were down right petrified of Jason.

Everyone in the school had heard the horror stories of when your brother ran amok in the halls and reeking havoc during his high school years.

Quickly, everyone scrambled away from the scene, except for the boy, whose collar Damian was holding onto.

“He tried to fight our sister.” The boy informed your older brother calmly.

“Is that so?” Jason turned to him with his eyebrows raised mockingly before he smiled in a similar manner, “We can’t have that, now can we?”

Won't let no one break your heart

“Where are you going?” It was an innocent question, simple even, but it still made you freeze in your steps nonetheless.

Slowly, you turned on your heel to face your brothers, who all now looked up from whatever they were doing in the living room to stare at you in curiosity.

“You look nice!” Dick chirped.

“Thanks,” You tried your best to keep your voice from wavering, failing.

Jason however, wasn’t as easily distracted as your eldest brother, “Where are you going looking so nice?”

From beside him, Tim raised an eyebrow, piecing it together pretty quickly. Unlike the rest of your brothers, who for the most part were slowly but surely getting it.

It was silent for a moment before Dicks eyes widened in horror and he shot to his feet, “You’re going on a date?” He shrieked in horror.

You blew out a huff of air, “It’s no big deal.”

“I beg to differ!” He had begun dramatically doubling over and hyperventilating.

Jason narrowed his eyes, “Who are you going on a date with?”

“A date?” Damian looked back and forth between everyone in confusion, “You all told me that she was only fourteen and therefore not allowed to go on one until she was much older.”

You threw your head back with a groan, “That’s not true! I am more than old enough!”

“We just don’t want you getting hurt,” Tim tried to reason calmly.

“You’re too young to date!” Dick sobbed, stumbling over and throwing his arms around you in a tight bear hug.

Jason stood, crossing the room and looking down at you sternly, “I agree with Dickie-Bird, I don’t think you should go on this date.”

“What do you even know about them?” Tim offered, “Probably not enough to risk going on a date.”

“I do too know enough about them,” You grumbled, prying Dicks arms off of you.

“Tell me their address right this minute and I will judge if they are worthy enough!” Your youngest older brother declared.

Everyone ignored him.

Jason sighed through his nose, “We just want what’s best for you,”

You softened at that, relaxing in Dicks death grip that was intended to keep you from leaving the manor, “I get that,” You reassured them, “But you also have to realize that I’m growing up. And with that comes different things. Like dates.”

All four of them hesitated, “I still don’t like this,” Tim said after a moment, “But youre right.”

“I want you to text me every five minutes so I know that you’re alright.” Jason said, immediately followed by sounds of agreement from the other three.

“No,” You groaned.

“Fine… every ten minutes.” Tim reasoned.

You stood there for a moment, contemplating his words before ultimately deciding that the only way you would be getting out of there anytime soon was to agree to their terms.

“Fine,” You sighed, “Dick. You have to let go of me.”

He just stood there for a moment, sniffling slightly, before hesitantly pulling away with a look for complete sadness overtaking his features.

“Guys, I’ll be fine,” You reassured them with a small smile before slowly backing away and walking out the door.

“She’s growing up,” Tim stated after a moment with a frown pulling at the ends of his lips.

And no one will desert you

“Hands in the air!” A voice boomed through the building, causing all festivities to halt in their places automatically, “We’re robbing this damn joint!”

Immediately, everyone in the room went to the ground with their hands raised, Jason dragging you down alongside him with a soft curse, “I told Bruce this charity gala wasn’t a good idea.” He muttered.

You locked eyes with your father and Damian, the only other two there, from across the room and he silently begged you with his eyes to do as the people said and stay down.

Multiple figures with masks and guns moved up and down the room, shoving anything expensive- looking enough into some sacks that they carried.

Your entire body tensed when one of the people froze in front of you, slowly looking down at you and your brother.

With wide eyes full of fear, you allowed your hand to latch onto your brother's wrist as he shifted his body to be between you and the man.

“Hey, get a load of this!” He called in a mocking way, “These are those Wayne kids!” Clearly he hadn’t noticed your father and other brother on the other side of the room.

A couple of his friends glanced over at him with nods, not stopping what they were doing.

“You reckon they’re worth anything if we take ‘em?” Another one called out, and you had to physically restrain yourself from letting out a whimper, all other gala guests smartly choosing to stay silent.

The first one shrugged and moved as if to grab you, causing Jason to immediately shoot to his feet with a glare that could put everyone in the room six feet under, “Don’t you dare touch her,” He warned dangerously despite the gun pointed to his chest.

Right on cue, the doors slammed open and in rushed none other than Dick and Tim, suited up as Nightwing and Red Robin, quickly taking over the situation and knocking out all the robbers.

Jason turned to you as guests began to scramble out, “Are you alright?” He asked quietly.

All you could do was nod, throwing your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. You had never been in as much danger as you had just been in that day. And it terrified you.

“You’re alright,” He whispered softly, rubbing your back comfortingly, “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

Just try to never grow up

“Shut up!” Jason snapped, elbowing Tim harder than necessary, making the boy stumble a bit from where he stood.

The younger of the two whipped around and glared at his brother, “Elbow me one more time.” He challenged through gritted teeth.

“You wanna go-“

“Alright, alright,” You got between the two with a huff, giving them each a small push apart, “Break it up, we have bigger things to worry about then you two breaking each other's faces.”

“Yes.” Damian agreed with narrowed eyes, “Wait until after we have surprised Pennyworth, like civil beings.”

Dick just kept on humming happily and mixing the ingredients for cookies in a large bowl that rested on the counter, “I can't wait to see the look on his face! Oh, this was such a good idea to surprise him for his birthday!” He gushed.

“Well, n/n is pretty good at coming up with plans,” Jason momentarily let his fight go and walked back to the bowl and carefully watched it.

“Here,” Tim walked over and picked up the bowl, “Let's bring this over here so we can-“

He cut himself off when his foot caught on the edge of the counter and he was sent stumbling forward, making the bowl tip over and land right on none other than Jason.

Silence rang through the kitchen as everyone froze in pace, mortified at what they had just witnessed.

Jason slowly turned his head up, “Why, you little-“

“Hey! Hey!” Dick scrambled forward and grabbed the arm Jason had begun winding up to punch Tim, “Let’s not get into this again. We can remake the dough-“

Using his other hand, Jason took a large handful of dough off of his shirt and flung it straight into Tim’s face, your eyes widening even more at the sight.

Next thing you knew, dough began flying every which way, hitting everyone in its path. Less than a minute passed before you were all covered head to toe with chocolate chips and unbaked cookie dough.

“What is-“

You all froze at the sound of Alfred’s voice, pausing a moment before all whipping in his direction. The older man was looking back and forth between all of you with slightly parted lips.

“Surprise?” You squeaked out.

Never grow up

You yawned, “This is more boring then the time we had to sit through dads speech about the importance of sleep.”

“Agreed,” Damian grumbled from beside you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning down further into his seat, “I suppose father has a knack for talking for obnoxious amounts of time and not once making it of any interest to us.”

The two of you continued to stare at Bruce up on stage, giving a speech about one thing or another and trying not to fall asleep.

“If he tired dragging us to one more of these things,” You mumbled, eyes dropping slightly, “I say we pull a Jason and steal the tires off of his car.”

“Agreed.” Your brother grunted.

You're in the car on the way to the movies

“Movies! Movies! Movies! Movies!” You and your siblings all chanted in sync.

Bruce let out a tired groan, running a hand down his face as he pretended not to notice the way Alfred was chuckling slightly from the driver's seat.

“If you all keep being this loud, you’re going to get us kicked out of the theater again.” He reminded you tiredly.

Jason scoffed, “Don’t act like you can’t just buy the theater so that they can’t kick us out!”

“I can't keep doing that everytime one of you messes up.” Bruce stressed.

It was silent for a moment, then the chanting started again, twice as loud this time.

“Movies! Movies! Movies! Movies!”

And you're mortified your mom's droppin' you off

“Dad,” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands, “I told you not to drop me off!”

Bruce looked over at you sternly, “Is this still about us being billionaires?” He questioned.

“I just don’t want people treating me any differently if they know!” You insisted.

Somehow, you had been able to keep it away from your new, out of school friends that you were the daughter of the Bruce Wayne. And you planned on keeping it that way.

“There’s no reason to be ashamed of who you are.”

“It’s not that I’m ashamed, dad,” You told him, “I just don’t want them being nice to me just because we have a lot of money.”

That made him pause, and after a moment, he pulled over to the side of the road.

You show him an appreciative look and quickly leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before hopping out of the car, “Thanks, dad! I love you!”

He smiled softly, “I love you too, sweetie. Have fun.”

At fourteen, there's just so much you can't do

You threw your head back with a groan, causing Tim to glance over at you sympathetically, “This is so stupid!” You complied with a grumble.

“I know,” He agreed.

“Why do I even have to do this?” You crossed your arms tightly over your chest and sunk farther down into the chair you sat in at a desk in the batcave.

“Cause it’s homework and getting an education is good for you,” The boy hummed.

“Easy for you to say,” You scoffed, “You’re naturally smart. You don’t have to worry about this.”

He sighed, moving his chair over next to yours, “Alright, what do you need help with?”

You perked up immediately, face lighting up like a Christmas tree, “Yes, yes, yes! You’re the best brother ever!” You gushed.

“I said I would help you, not do it for you.” He warned and you waved a dismissive hand.

“Yeah, yeah, same difference.”

And you can't wait to move out someday and call your own shots

You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest, “Don’t act as if they didn’t start when they were way younger than me!”

Bruce rubbed his hands down his face in frustration, “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to be like them.”

“I don’t!” You protested angrily, “I want to be like them! I want to help people!”

He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, “This is not up for discussion, Y/n.” He told you firmly, “It’s too dangerous.”

Your mouth dropped open and you gaped at him, “Too- too dangerous?” You seethed, “So it’s alright for my brothers to go out every night fighting crime as this city vigilantes with you, but not if I do it?”

“Yes!” He finally snapped, “Yes, alright? I don’t want you getting hurt! I will not let you go out there and risk your life every night. The- the boys have their reasons for doing it, but you don’t have any reason. I need you to stay here. Safe.”

You recoiled slightly at his words, “You think I can't handle it?” You whispered.

His head shook back and forth again, “That's not what I said, and you know it. You can handle yourself, I just don’t want you to need to.”

“I want to help people!” You insisted desperately.

“Help them in a different way.” His tone was final, leaving no more room for discussion, “Because I will not let you fall into this life. I couldn’t stop them from joining, but I sure as hell will stop you.”

You stared at him for a moment in an eerie silence before turning on your heel and storming out of the room, slamming the door shut harshly behind you.

Bruce flinched slightly at the noise and dropped his head into his hands.

But don't make her drop you off around the block

“I just don’t want them seeing the car.” You tried to reason, using your fathers excessive amount of money as an excuse.

“You sure about that?” Jason turned his head from the passenger seat with a smirk, “Sure you’re not just embarrassed of me and Dickie-Bird?”

You groaned, sinking further into the backseat and burying your head in your hands, “Please just drop me off around the corner.”

Your brother feigned worry, “But how will we know that you got to the movies safe, then?”

Dick snickered slightly, but pulled over where you asked nonetheless, “Come on, Little Bird. I know you used to hate this just as much as she does.”

“But we love you!” Jason teasingly called as you hurriedly exited the vehicle and slammed the door with more force than necessary, fear of someone hearing him taking over.

Their laughter did follow you all the way through the doors of the cinema, though.

Remember that she's gettin' older too

“What is it- what happened?” A look of complete horror and desperation painted your features.

You had just been getting ready to turn in for the night when you had heard a lot of commotion coming from the batcave, which was rare considering your family wasn’t normally back from patrol for at least another four hours. And even then, they always stayed as quiet as they could as to not wake you.

Alfred sighed immediately moving to gently grasp onto your arms, “Master. Bruce was shot, but-“

“Dad was shot?” You looked like you were about to throw up, but you tried to stumble past Alfred to go farther into the cave, nonetheless, shaking off his grip.

He gently reached out and grabbed you by the shoulders, trying to halt all further movements from you, “But he’ll be fine,” He continued his previous sentence reassuringly, “And I don’t think it’s wise for you to have to see him like that. He wouldn’t want you to see him like that.”

“B-but-dad-he-“ You began to become overwhelmed as you frantically stuttered things out, trying and failing to form a coherent thought.

“He’s right, n/n,” You hadn’t even noticed Dick approach the two of you until he was right in front of you and speaking.

Your head snapped over to your oldest brother, taking in his soft expression as he gently tried to urge you to calm down.

Vigorously, you shook your head back and forth and pushed away from both of them, heading straight for the room you knew they all went to whenever one of them was injured.

You pushed the door open, ignoring the way Tim shot out of his seat beside Bruce’s bed as you did so, your breathing becoming a shaky and uneven pace.

Bruce slowly moved his head to look at you, and when he did, his eyes turned sad in a way you grew to despise, “N/n-“

“Are you okay?” You asked in a panic-filled tone, rushing over to his side.

A blanket lay over his body so you couldn’t see where he was shot, “Yes, I’m fine.” He had the audacity to chuckle.

“This isn’t funny.” You snapped, “How is this at all funny?”

He quieted for a moment, neither of you paying any kind of attention as Tim slipped out of the room after giving you a small squeeze on the shoulder.

“You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry.”

For the first time in your life, your father looked small to you, weak. He was always strong and determined, sure. But never had you seen him look like he did now. And it scared you.

“Dad-“ You hadn’t even realized when tears had began to roll down your cheeks, but they did and you tried to bite your bottom lip to stop sobs from slipping through.

“Come here,” He prompted softly, and you didn’t hesitate.

You rushed over to his side and fell into the chair Tim had previously been sitting in, your hand shooting out and holding onto his tightly.

“I-I don’t want to see you hurt,” You admitted tearfully.

“I know, I know.” He reached his other hand over and softly moved a piece of fallen hair out of your face, “I hate having you see me like this.” He paused, “But I would hate seeing you like this even more.”

Your eyes shot up, “Dad-“

“You know how you feel about me being like this?” He continued, “I would feel ten times worse if it was you out there instead of me, that’s the reason I don’t want you out there. Because I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something were to happen to you.”

Silence fell over the two of you like an uncomfortable blanket for a minute before you slowly nodded your head, “Okay,” You whispered, “Okay, I’ll stop trying to go out with you guys. But only if you promise that all of you will be safe. That’s the only reason I ever wanted to go in the first place, to make sure you guys were all alright.”

He squeezed your hand in appreciation, “I promise you, n/n, we’ll all be safe.”

And don't lose the way that you dance around in your PJs getting ready for school

You sang loudly to the song playing over the speaker as you spun back and forth along the kitchen floor, packing your lunch for the day.

Perhaps the music was too loud, or you were too much in your own world, because you didn’t even notice the way your brothers all crowded in the doorway, laughing quietly at your antics.

Naturally, Dick had his phone out and was recording the moment that no doubt would be used as blackmail later, but none of them could shake the soft smiles they felt unconsciously growing on their faces at the sight of it.

You looked so young and carefree, like you were five again.

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up

“They’re really beautiful,” You admitted with a dreamy sigh, leaning further back into your seat to look up at the sky filled with thousands of stars in complete wonder.

Your father hummed in agreement from beside you, “They are.”

About a week ago, you had been complaining to him that you were hardly ever able to see any stars at night due to the bright city lights, so he decided to surprise you by taking a night off of patrol and bringing you up, over the clouds in the batplane to see them. Just the two of you.

“I can’t believe that I’m seeing them this close,” Your wide, full of wonder, eyes were yet to tear away from the devastatingly beautiful scene.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, each observing the various constellations at your own pace.

“Dad?” The man’s head lulled to the side to find you already looking at him, “Thank you.”

He smiled softly, leaning over and gently kissing your temple, “No need to thank me. I’m glad we did this.”

Don't you ever grow up

They were the loudest in the audience by far. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be even slightly embarrassed. If anything, your grin only widened at their proud features.

Their claps and cheers of your name were enough to make your legs move across the stage as you graciously accepted your diploma before waving it in the air excitedly at them.

All in the front row, your father, honorary grandfather, and brothers all jumped up to keep their clapping, even Damian didn’t pretend not to care.

Tears shone in each and every one of their eyes as they watched you were about to take your final steps off the stage, officially having graduated high school.

Of course, there was an immense amount of pride and joy in their hearts, but there was also a sinking feeling inside that made the tears keep rolling.

The second you stepped off of that stage, you would no longer be a child. You would be off to college. You would have grown up.

Deep down, they all knew they had been dreading this very moment for as long as they could remember, but they never really anticipated what would happen when the day actually came.

But instead of voicing these thoughts and ruining your day, they continued to let their applause boom through the auditorium.

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe @xbergiex @kiyomi-uchiha777

[cordeliawhohung]

In Limbo [Prologue]

mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist

| mafia!Simon x fem!Reader - violence, death, gambling, gang/mafia violence |

Everyone knew not to ask the Riley brothers what they did after dark. Don’t ask Tommy why he looks so skinny, and don’t ask Simon about the bruises on his hands and face; it’s better that way. Even if you did, neither of them would tell the truth, though they lied for different reasons. Tommy lied because he didn’t want anyone to ruin his fun. It was already bad enough with his brother getting on his ass about his addictions, he didn’t need anyone else trying to play hero for him. Besides, he was perfectly content couch surfing, drinking all his friend’s booze, and shooting up in order to numb anything that the alcohol couldn’t. 

Simon only lied because he was ashamed. 

But it wasn’t shame that stuck him in that boxing ring. No, it was something else. Loyalty, most likely. Servitude, more accurately. Whatever word that could be used to explain Simon Riley’s undying need to take care of his family, even at the cost of his own wellbeing. Even if that meant spilling someone else’s blood and destroying himself in the process. 

It was difficult to hear the sound of his own thoughts in that room. Long abandoned, the pool house bounced around the voices of all the men looking down at him and the poor bastard he would have to fight. Nothing but cracked concrete walls surrounded him and his opponent as they stared at one another from opposite sides of the empty pool, sizing one another up. An announcer using a jerry-rigged auditory system mumbled something into the microphone about last call for bets that sent a few people scrambling. Maybe it was the dull, grey concrete prison he found himself in, but the men in charge had a way of making boxing feel like being put in the colosseum. 

In five minutes, one of them would leave a bloody mess. Simon had every intention of leaving in one piece. 

While he waited, Simon adjusted the wraps on his knuckles and the balaclava obscuring his face. He always refused to show his face in that place because the last thing he wanted was for any of that to come back and bite him in the ass. Underground boxing wasn’t the most legal thing in the world, but being a butcher wasn’t exactly a well paying job, either. The only reason he risked his life in that hole was because the winner got to take home twenty percent of the pot, and he had family to take care of. 

Once everyone began to line the edge of the pool, Simon knew his five last minutes of preparation was almost up. Pressing one thick soled boot against the concrete at his back, he pushed himself off of the wall and towards the large spray painted circle that decorated the bottom of the pool. The line was drawn long ago and was so faded he had a difficult time telling the paint and the bloodstains apart. His contender mirrored his actions as he lazily sauntered up towards the ring, oozing a confidence Simon wasn’t sure was well founded. 

The referee was a bored man who looked like he was nineteen going on forty. Out of all the spectators, he was the only one brave enough to sit down with his legs hanging over the side of the pool, despite how easy it would be to snap one of his scrawny legs should he get caught in the crossfire. Like all the other men who were in charge of the fight, he wore all black which made the silver whistle hanging around his neck all the more eye-catching. 

“Alright boys,” he shouted over the commotion swirling around them, “you know the rules.”

Both men nodded before turning their attention to one another where they took their last few seconds to fully size one another up. Simon was taller, but that wasn’t exactly anything new. He was always well aware that his height and size was larger than the average man, but that rarely seemed to get anyone to shy away from fighting against him in the ring. His opponent had forgone his shirt, which was something Simon himself would have done if it wasn’t for the tattoos and other identifying marks he covered with the cloth on his back. Less clothes meant less things for someone to grab onto during the fight, but the man knew how to adapt. He wouldn’t have been alive that long if he didn’t learn to do that much. 

Neither of them wasted any time getting to work the moment the whistle blew. His nameless opponent didn’t bother to wrap his hands, and he flaunted his tightly wound fists as he danced around the ring. Simon, however, was not that flamboyant, and instead chose to keep his arms guarding his face as he waited for either the man to make a move, or for an opportunity to attack. He had no need to show off, to prove himself to the people who bet on him; his only objective was to survive. To win.

The man’s first punch was slow. Sloppy, even. A quick duck of his head and adjustment of his hips had Simon avoiding the blow like it was child's play, and he responded with a quick and sharp jab to the man's exposed abdomen. The move got him a sharp grunt in response, followed by a half-assed punch intended for his face, but was easily blocked by Simon’s forearms. Bit by bit the fight started to pick up momentum. A quick jab on the right. A wide swing that sent one of the men ducking. Each blow was punctuated by roaring applause mixed with slight grimaces and groans from the audience. 

Two minutes had passed and Simon had managed to receive a decent hit to his cheek, but his opponent suffered from a bloody nose that bled profusely, wetting the skin of his chest. His blood mixed with the rest of the stains that coated the concrete floor of the emptied pool, but neither man paid it any mind as they were too busy sizing up opening opportunities. 

The crowd began to grow restless with the match, as fights usually only lasted a minute maximum if the fighters were good enough. They wanted their results. They needed their winner so that they could claim their share of the prize, should they be so lucky. Instead of continuing the fight, of picking up pace and doubling down, Simon’s opponent placed his hands on his hips with a heavy sigh. There was a slight pull to his lips, some sort of twisted grin that Simon refused to trust. 

“Look… I really need that money.” 

Now that was new. Simon was no veteran in the career of illegal underground boxing, but he had never seen or heard of anyone begging to win. Refusing to let his guard down, he stayed braced as he watched the man take a step forward, his movement far too confident to be grounded in good will. 

Though Simon hadn’t been expecting anything friendly from the man, he certainly didn’t expect something as insidious as him pulling a pocket knife from the pants of his jeans. Its edge glistened deadly in the dull lights of the pool house, and he couldn’t stop the way his eyes widened at the sight of it. A deafening uproar sounded from the crowd at the blatant display of rule breaking, and the referee blew his whistle in an attempt to halt the fight. 

“The fuck did I say about following rules?” the man shouted after letting the whistle drop from his lips. “Give that here before you get yourself hurt.” 

Despite the man’s warning, no one exactly rushed to defend Simon. Not that he could blame them. They weren’t the ones stuck in that pool with that man. They were perfectly safe and had no intention of spilling their guts just to save their entertainment.

Ignoring the referee, the man continued to stalk closer to Simon who refused to waver even in the threat of the glinting blade in the man's hand. It was a beautiful knife, obviously well loved and kept without a single hint of rust or other ailment. But Simon knew knives, and he knew them well enough to know that the grip the man used was not the telltale sign of a man who was confident in his abilities. Just as sloppy as his punches were, his grip was that of a novice, someone desperate for an easy way out. 

“Just step outta the ring,” the man said as he approached close enough to Simon that he was within reaching distance. “This doesn’t have to be difficult.” 

Simon didn’t even bother giving the man a reply, and he certainly didn’t wait around for him to make the first move with a knife in his hand. Instead, he grabbed the blade by hand, taking great care to avoid putting the edge along the fleshy part of his palm as he did so, and used his other hand to twist the man's wrist into submission. His yelp cut through the shouting of the crowd around them as Simon yanked the knife out of his feeble grip and then swung him to the side. Blood and bone crunched on the cement of the pool wall as the man’s already tender nose collided with the rough and unforgiving surface. 

“Sorry mate,” Simon said as he watched the man’s face slide down the wall, “shoulda fought harder.” 

Violent cheering and shouts brought a whole new deafening sound to the crowded room as those who betted on Simon reveled in their win. The man himself stood in the center of the ring as a few workers surrounded his opponent, all roughly grabbing him and yanking him out of the hole, certainly to drag him off to teach him a lesson. Boxers dying during fights wasn’t exactly good for business, and those who placed bets usually got pretty sour when their lucky contestant was too injured to play. 

Folding up the pocket knife and shoving it into his pocket to keep as a souvenir, Simon turned towards the pool ladder where he quickly yanked himself up out of that bloody hole. Several people were brave enough to give him a pat on the back as he cut through the crowd, but most others stared at him with slight terror and the respect he deserved. 

He had won, and that was the only thing he cared about. 

Things were significantly more quiet in the cash room. What used to be a locker room had been turned into something of a makeshift bank with large, heavy duty safes that housed all the cash from that evening's bettings, as well as everything left over from previous weekends. As Simon was the victor, he got priority on the dispersal of money, which meant he found himself standing for quite some time in front of a rickety folding table while the banker, so to speak, counted out his winnings by hand. 

Eight thousand was how much he would take home that night. With a minimum required bet of five hundred, and then some choosing to place even higher bets, his payout was always eye-catching, though usually took some time to count out. Not that he was in a hurry or anything, certainly not at that time of night. He didn’t have anyone waiting for him back home, anyway. 

“Ghost?” 

Unlike most of the other fighters, Simon refused to reveal not only his face but his name as well. In fact, he had peeved the sign up rep a little when he refused to give the man his proper name and in some sort of fit of annoyance he was given the name Ghost. It was a name that had gotten him laughed at when he had first stepped in that bloodied pool as he was seen as nothing but some stupid boy who dreamed too much of being in the WWE. After a few matches, people learned to respect both the name and the man behind the mask. 

Simon turned around to face who spoke to him and wasn’t much too surprised to find a well dressed man with an easy smile. He stood only an inch or two shorter than him, which was something to notice, and he could catch a slight whiff of expensive, woody cologne mixed with tobacco. Though that abandoned pool house was meant for the grunts, it wasn’t rare to find the occasional well off business man or two feeding into their gambling addictions with something a bit more bloody than your average horse race. 

“Yeah?” Simon responded as if bored. 

Much to his surprise, the man held out his hand for him to shake. He was quick to notice the watch band on his wrist, though it wasn’t as expensive as Simon had anticipated it to be. Still, he courteously took his hand as he allowed the man to introduce himself. 

“John Price. That was some good fighting you did down there,” he congratulated as they both returned their hands to their sides. It was obvious the man wasn’t from the area based on his accent. London, Simon guessed, which was quite a ways away from Manchester. 

Simon hummed as he quickly glanced over his shoulder. The sudden quietness hadn’t been lost on him as every soul in that room eyed John Price with suspicion. Even the bank guards looked apprehensive despite how obviously armed they were. He turned his attention back to John as he gestured to the table behind him. 

“Too excited to wait patiently for your winnings?” he asked. 

John laughed, and it rumbled deep in his chest as he glanced down at the ground with a friendly smile. “No, my wife doesn’t like it when I gamble. I came here to offer you a job.” 

It was as if the ambiance of the room itself silenced the very moment those words left John’s mouth. Anyone shuffling and counting cash ceased, as did their breathing by the sound of it. There didn’t seem to be any insidious intent or tone behind the man's voice, and yet his offer stopped the very turning of the world. 

“Must be an interestin’ job if you’re scoutin’ in a place like this,” Simon noted. 

“Interesting and well paying,” John agreed. “I think it would be a shame to let those talents of yours go to waste.” 

Talents? Simon nearly laughed at the compliment. He wasn’t a trained fighter by any means, just obnoxiously big and brutally strong in a way that most other people never had the misfortune of being. There were very few reasons why Simon would want to turn to a life like that, a life full of nothing but violence and fighting, and simply being offered decent pay was not one of them. 

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’m interested,” he said as he turned his attention back to the man at the table. Apparently he had finished counting his winnings quite some time ago because he held the stack of cash in his hands out for him impatiently, almost as if he begged Simon to leave. 

Relieving the man of whatever awkward tension had built up in his body, Simon took the cash and quickly shuffled through it before tossing a few bills back as a tip. The man muttered a soft thanks before his gaze turned back to John Price. Whoever this man was, no one else seemed to trust him even with his kind demeanor. 

“Have a good night,” he said to John with a simple nod. 

Just as Simon walked to the side of the man, he put his hand up in front of his chest, forcing him to stop in his tracks. That same hand then slowly snaked into the pocket of his pants, and he half expected him to pull some sort of weapon on him for denying his offer. Wouldn’t have been the first time that night. Instead, John pulled out a small, rectangular card, which he held out for Simon. 

“Take this before you go. In case you change your mind,” John insisted.

Simon stared at the card for a long moment, studying its features. It was nothing but plain white cardstock with a phone number handwritten on one side, which was oddly simple for someone with a powerful aura. It was almost like the man had scribbled it down before he even entered the building, as if he had anticipated Simon’s rejection. Seeing no harm in taking the card, and also wanting to get the man off his back as soon as possible so he could go home, he took the item and shoved it in his pocket. 

“Just know that if you do decide to change your mind, I always take care of my men. Always,” John said, his eyes unwavering. 

Unconvinced, Simon gave the man a curt nod. “Sure,” he responded gruffly before he turned to leave John Price and that dilapidating building far behind him. 

Simon didn’t take his balaclava off until he was halfway home. Well, the house he grew up in as a child wasn’t exactly home anymore, but his mother still lived there, and that was close enough. It hadn’t changed much since he was younger; it still had the floral patterned curtains and the cement stairs with the railing that squeaked as he approached the front door. The inside had changed considerably, though. Significantly less toys than he remembered, and his mother was able to keep it more tidy since the death of his addict father.

When he reached the kitchen, he flipped the light on and did a quick glance around the room. Several hand washed dishes sat neatly in a drying rack next to the sink, and the fridge was adorned with old photographs of him and his brother Tommy from when they were younger. Annoying bastard used to be cute back then. 

Digging his hands into his pocket, Simon pulled out the cash he had earned that night and began to shuffle through the bills. Six thousand would have been plenty for him to live off of for a little while in addition to what he already made at work as a butcher. His mom could use the extra two thousand, although she’d chastise him and attempt to give it back to him. No, maybe he should give her three thousand just in case his brother came around asking her for cash. Begging seemed to be a bad habit of his.

“Tommy?” 

Simon stopped in his tracks when the sound of his mothers tired voice cut across the quiet kitchen. She stood in the doorway with a hand bracing against the wall while she attempted to squint into the bright light of the room. Surprisingly, her hair was kept fairly well despite her having been roused from sleep, though her pajamas had been wrinkled from her tossing and turning throughout the night. 

“Oh, Simon,” she said in surprise. “Everything alright sweetie?”

He felt like a kid again getting caught red handed trying to steal snacks at some ungodly hour, except instead of stealing he attempted to give something. It was too late to shove the cash into his pocket and pretend he was there for some other reason, her eyes had clearly scanned the bundle in his hands as soon as she had made herself known. Instead of drawing more attention to it than had already been done, Simon continued to count out the cash like it was of no importance. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he spoke softly. It didn’t take him much longer to count the amount he wanted to give to her, and once he was finished he set it in a neat pile on the counter before shoving the remaining amount deep into his pocket. “Just droppin’ something off real quick. Go back to bed, mum.” 

Ignoring his request, she continued further into the room as she made her way to the fridge where cold air soon brushed against Simon’s arm as she searched around in the freezer. It wasn’t long before she pulled out a bag of frozen peas and shoved it his way, all but forcing it into his hand. 

“If you ice it now the swelling should go down by Monday,” she said while her eyes watched him meticulously. 

Sighing, Simon turned so that his hips leaned against the counter while he pressed the cold bag of peas against his eye. The pain from the impact was hardly there, and it felt more like a dull throb than anything else, but he supposed nothing could beat a mother’s intuition. Not like it would have mattered if his eye did swell up. There were very few people he visited, and he always hid in the back of the butcher shop when he worked. 

“You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself, Simon,” she sighed as she shut the freezer door. Despite her short stature, she stared up at her son with her hands on her hips to scold him as if he was still a child and not a twenty-six year old man. “Whatever money you’re making from this isn’t worth what you’re putting your body through.” 

“It is if it helps get you through the month,” he retorted bluntly. Crackling plastic sounded as he adjusted the bag on his face. His fingertips already ached from holding the ice cold object. 

“I know your mother is getting closer to being a helpless old lady, but I’m not there quite yet,” she chuckled. “I’m not going to be living out on the streets, sweetie.” 

“You will be if you keep givin’ money to Tommy as often as you do.” 

It was difficult for her to come up with a response because deep down Mrs. Riley knew her son was right, even though she didn’t want him to be. The oldest of her two sons grew skinnier and more pallid every time she saw him, and the only thing he ever seemed interested in consuming was cash. His expensive diet was insatiable, and she didn’t have the fortitude to deny him his favorite meal. 

“If he comes around again, tell him to come talk to me,” Simon continued. By that point his cheek felt completely numb and he hastily pulled the frozen bag of peas off his face in order to offer his skin a little reprieve from the biting cold. “Kick him out if you have to. Unless he’s tryin’ to sit for tea, he doesn’t need to be harassing you for money.” 

There wasn’t much more to be said for their late night kitchen conversation. Sleep pulled heavy at his mothers eyes, and all Simon wanted to do was wash away the filth of that night down the drain. So he placed the bag of peas back in the freezer before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. They quietly muttered their goodbyes before Simon quickly slipped out of the kitchen and towards the exit. His hand had hardly brushed against the dull, brass door knob before he heard her call out to him from the kitchen doorway once more. 

“Stay safe, Simon.” 

Hesitating for only a moment, he continued to twist at the knob until the door swung open and the night air seeped into the entryway. He glanced over his shoulder and looked to where his mother’s small frame stood, blocking the illumination from the kitchen. A small smile appeared on his lips, but his face felt too numb to give her something more proper. 

“Always.” 

The thing about Simon Riley was that his hands were always dirty. No matter how much pink tinged water swirled down the drain, he could never quite get the stench of death and raw muscle out of his skin. But that was alright. Men like him, large and burly and utterly terrifying, were meant to be that way. Hidden in the back of butcher shops, transforming once living creatures into something so unrecognizable that the average person would be able to stomach consuming something that once looked at the same stars as them. 

Just as Simon had finished washing and drying his hands, the small pitter-patter of feet caught his attention. Looking up from his station, he caught sight of Meara, the young girl who ran the register up front. She was kind enough yet always seemed eternally bored with the work at the shop, but her usual dull expression was replaced with one of slight concern. Meara leaned against the doorway and jammed her thumb over her shoulder as she cleared her throat. 

“There’s someone up front asking for you,” she said. “He’s uh… very adamant about speaking to you.” 

Sounded about right. It was a Monday, and for some reason that usually attracted the frustrated white collar workers and the absolute loons. Simon tossed his paper towel into the bin next to the sink before following Meara up front where he was met with neither office worker nor freak but his own brother. Each time Simon saw Tommy, he looked worse with gauntly cheekbones and heavy sunken eyes. His skin was so pale it looked as if it had been rotting for some time, and yet he still smiled at Simon as if nothing was wrong. 

“Simon, hey man,” Tommy greeted as he placed his hands on the counter. His scuffed knuckles didn’t go unnoticed, but Simon didn’t bother to mention it. “How’s work?” 

“What do you want?” he questioned, skipping the pleasantries and getting straight to the point. “Got tired of freeloadin’ off of mum?”

Whatever kind persona Tommy wore quickly morphed into something a bit more desperate at his little brother’s comment and he slumped forward over the counter. He was close enough that Simon could smell his breath; it was as if he had rotting flesh stuck in his teeth. 

“Come on, Simon,” he said, nearly begging, “I know it sounds bad, but I just- this is serious alright? Look, I couldn’t tell mum because she’d freak the fuck out, but I… I owe some guys a bit of  money, and they’re getting a little impatient with me.” 

Feet shuffled behind Simon as Meara not-so-secretly eavesdropped. Papers slapped against one another as she messed about, pretending to be busy when he knew that she didn’t have any work to be done. Ignoring it, he kept his attention on his brother, and more importantly the bit of information he had dropped. 

“How much?” he asked. 

Sweating, Tommy rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I’d just need a couple hundred to keep them off my back for a while.”

“That’s not what I asked you,” Simon snapped. “How much, Tom?” 

Avoiding his gaze, Tommy looked down at the counter. “Seventy five.” 

“Hundred?” Simon pressed. 

“Thousand.” 

Simon nearly laughed at the absurdity of the number. He was well aware his brother was an idiot, but he never imagined he would get into that much trouble. Tommy refused to look at him, which gave Simon the time he needed to get his thoughts together and stay as level headed as possible, lest he scare Meara. 

“How the fuck did you manage that?” Simon asked as he kept his voice low. 

“That’s not important right now,” Tommy retorted, though he backed off when he saw the glare his brother gave him. “I-It’s a long story, I can explain later but right now I need you to help me. Please.” 

A small bell rang with the opening of the shop door and Tommy anxiously turned around to greet the two men like he knew them by their presence alone. Both men were dressed similarly with large bulky coats that Simon knew couldn’t be hiding anything good. Neither brother had time to react before one of the men threw a punch that hit Tommy’s diagram. All the air in his lungs left him with a pitiful heave before he was promptly shoved onto the cold linoleum. Meara’s gasp came shortly after followed by what sounded like a sob when the other man pulled out a knife and pointed it towards Simon in a warning. 

“Let’s not get any ideas,” the man chuckled as his partner sauntered over to Tommy’s crumpled form on the floor. 

Stuck on the other side of the counter, Simon’s eyes flickered between the two men in assessment. Average height and build, neither of them were all too intimidating and yet they both sauntered into the shop like they owned the place. The man who stood above Tommy chuckled as he knelt down to his height like some ravenous beast ready to eat his meal. This was Simon’s work, but this was their territory. 

“Time’s up,” he said as he held his hand out, but all Tommy could do in response was sputter and attempt to catch his breath. “Do you have the cash or not?” 

Suddenly, Simon was in that empty pool again with its cracked cement walls and stained floor. Adrenaline pumped through his body so furiously the only thing he could hear was his brothers groaning and the blood rushing in his ears. He could freeze up. He could stand there and watch his brother get beat to a pulp or stabbed beyond recognition. It was easy to give in to fear, to be nothing but a helpless bystander, but it wasn’t in his nature. No, a man like Simon Riley would do the thing he did best: fight. 

Mimicking his movements from the other night, Simon grabbed the blade of the knife with one hand and the thugs wrist with his other before bending them in opposite directions. A loud crunch reverberated through his hands as the man’s forearm shattered in his grip, causing the man to scream louder than anything he had heard in his life. There was nothing left in Simon’s grip than powdery bone and mushy meat. Yelping, Meara took that as a sign to get the hell out of dodge, and she quickly dove through the doorway and into the back of the shop. 

All it took was a simple shove to get the man to lose balance, and with him out of the way Simon was able to step around the counter. The man closest to his brother was no longer concerned with Tommy and instead turned his attention to Simon. He looked to his comrade who squirmed and moaned on the floor as he gripped his flopping arm, and it was in that moment that they finally realized they should have taken Simon seriously. 

Cursing, the man fumbled with one of the pockets in his coat and Simon’s stomach dropped at the sight. This was the moment where the man would try and level the playing field by drawing his own weapon, and though Simon was strong, no amount of fortitude would stop a speeding bullet. Bracing himself, Simon charged as fast as he could towards the man with his new weapon held tightly in his hand. Strong and powerful steps propelled him forward, and they collided seconds later where they both toppled to the ground right next to Tommy like dominos. 

Ensuring that he was ready for whatever came next, Simon jumped to his feet and looked down at the man he had tackled. His breathing was short and sputtering, and at first he thought that was just because he had knocked the wind out of him; until he realized the knife was no longer in his hand. A long blade had been embedded into the thugs stomach and it fit so snugly as if it had never known any other home. All the man could do was lie there on his back with his hands pawing at his abdomen as if he could will the pain away. But nothing could get the blood to stop oozing from the wound. 

Simon had just washed his hands. 

“Fucking… Jesus fucking… holy shit,” Tommy stuttered, still gasping for air. “Simon… oh my god, he’s gonna fuckin’ die. W-What do… what do we do?” 

Simon’s heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest, and each thump rattled painfully throughout his entire body. Both intruders laid on the ground, one still half conscious moaning in pain over his arm, and the other slowly losing the light in his eyes. It was then that Simon realized he was scared. Terrified, even, but he had a difficult time deducing what had spooked him. The fact that he had killed a man, or the realization that taking a life was just as easy as butchering a pig?

Ignoring his brother, Simon dug around in his pocket where he quickly pulled out his phone and a small card. He wasn’t sure why he still even had that useless piece of scrap that John Price had given him. Maybe he lugged it around because he knew that there was no escaping a life of violence, no matter how fast he ran. He unlocked his phone and hastily punched the numbers on the keypad before bringing it up to his ear. The line rang for so long he was a little worried no one would pick up, but eventually it stopped and the silky smooth voice of John Price came through the speaker. 

“Hello?” 

“This is Ghost,” Simon answered. His voice was terrifyingly calm despite the fresh corpse that rested on the ground next to him. “That job offer still on the table?”

here's our little introduction for the boy. still not quite sure how i feel about it, and updates will be slow to come, but i'm excited to get more of his lore out there. hope you all enjoyed. we'll get to see reader in the next part

[bemusedlybespectacled]

Question: I enjoyed s1 OF OFMD, but for various reasons I never actually got around to watching s2 (pick up most of the plot from tumblr tho). What exactly went wrong in s2 that got so many people upset?

Oh, boy. Very long rant incoming.

So, for context, S2 had a significantly smaller budget, which necessitated moving the filming location to union-unfriendly New Zealand, reducing the number of actors/number of appearances of established actors, and cutting down the number of episodes from 10 to 8. In a show where each episode is only about half an hour long, that last one alone was enough to seriously hamper any character development or plot. I am very comfortable putting the vast majority of the blame on HBO because of these financial decisions.

The short version is that Jenkins et. al. needed to address and build on the problems left hanging in S1 while also getting the characters to the end of their character trajectories in case there was no S3 while also leaving room for additional episodes in case there was a S3, in a grand total of four hours, and failed.

The long version is that there were a bunch of what I'd consider small problems in isolation that came together and exploded in the S2 finale.

The reduced cast necessitated breaking up the crew (ex: having Swede marry Jackie and stay on land with her, so they don't need to pay Nat Faxon for all eight episodes) and not spending as much time on their relationships as S1 did.

The reduced time meant that the entire season was rushed (in contrast to S1, which takes place over at least several weeks if not months, most of S2 takes place in roughly five days), leading both to a lot of telling rather than showing (because they don't have time to show you), including vital character and relationship development.

This includes:

Having the Kraken half of the crew beat Ed to death after months of being abused by him – abuse that is clearly shown to have given them PTSD and a well-justified fear and hatred of him – only for them to be okay with him two in-universe days later;

On that note, having Stede dismiss the crew's concerns about Ed because he loves him and also we only have three more episodes left to fit in everything so we need to get over it really fast, even though Stede is supposed to be well-meaning and caring (even if he's not good at it all the time);

Resolving the issue of Stede abandoning Ed in one day, then having them "go slowly" in their relationship for two days and then have some spur-of-the-moment sex, and then the next afternoon have them break up over their diverging career aspirations, and then the day after that resolve that problem and retire on land while the rest of the crew sails off into the sunset;

Stede becoming a fantastic pirate captain over the course of one day, becoming wildly popular in the piracy world two days later, and then deciding the day after that to never be a captain again because he is retiring with Ed;

Having Ed and Stede decide to retire together as what is implied to be the end point of their relationship arc, when none of Stede's issues from S1, like his poor self-esteem, have been so much as mentioned by anyone, implying that he's either magically gotten over them or they don't matter all that much, actually, even though they were the catalyst for basically everything he did in S1;

Ed having two separate character crises – "I am an unlovable person" and "I want to do something with my life other than piracy" – not spending a lot of time on either one, having moments that clearly indicate he is still working on both problems and they have not been resolved, and then apparently having them both be resolved in the final episode despite nothing occurring to actually make that happen, and in regards to the latter, despite the story actively undermining it by repeatedly showing he can't do anything other than piracy;

Related to the above, Ed ending the series as allegedly being loved by the crew as a family (thus solving Crisis #1) despite this never actually being shown, demonstrated, or even fucking alluded to onscreen. If anything, it shows the exact opposite.

This last point is especially galling to me because of what is probably the most divisive issue in the fandom right now: killing off Izzy Hands after giving him seven episodes of character development.

The show begins with the Kraken crew clearly trying to use the skills they learned as part of Stede's crew to cope with their incredibly shitty situation and care for each other, which includes Izzy. Izzy, on his end, tries to protect the crew and speak up for them, which results in him being repeatedly hurt (both implicitly, as Ed at one point says "that's another toe" in response to Izzy advocating for the crew and we later see he's missing more than one toe already, and explicitly, as Ed shoots him in the fucking leg in front of the crew when he stands up for them).

This camaraderie is shown again and again and again. Frenchie, Jim, and Archie take care of Izzy while his leg is infected, at risk to their own lives. Izzy's misery over losing his leg is what unites the PTSD-ridden Kraken crew and the well-meaning-but-ignorant-of-PTSD marooned crew, who are initially at odds, to make him a new prosthetic leg. Izzy gives Lucius advice about forgiving Ed. Izzy is introduced to drag and opens up enough to sing at a crew party, and the whole crew is having fun together while Ed and Stede are in their cabin having sex for the first time. Izzy gives Stede pirate captain lessons and bonds with him when Ed leaves him. Izzy provokes the season's villain into focusing on him and then gives a big speech about how piracy is about belonging to something, giving the rest of the crew time to try to escape.

Recall that Season 1 had some pretty well-established universe rules, one of which was that it runs on Muppet physics/magical realism. People can jump off yardarms, hit the side on the way down, and be perfectly fine. People can get stabbed in the liver and it's totally okay because it's probably not that important, and even can stay pinned to a mast all night that way with only mild discomfort. Buttons can talk to birds and see long distances without a spyglass and put hexes on people. Good people can be hurt (Stede is stabbed repeatedly), bad people can die (the Badmintons, Geraldo), but no one we care about is ever killed.

This is repeated in Season 2: Ed is beaten into a coma with a cannonball and wakes up like Sleeping Beauty after a spirit journey, with no injuries to his face or body. Buttons turns into a seagull after spending an episode doing a magic ritual and is never seen again (because they couldn't keep paying Ewen Bremner due to the budget cuts). Jackie microdoses her husbands with poison to build up their immunity, so that she can later pull a Dread Pirate Westley and poison the British with shared drinks.

So: in the finale, the villain of the season is taken hostage by the pirates (for reasons? unclear how that fits in the plan), happens to have a gun on him (no one checked??), shoots Izzy on the right side and then leaves with no repercussions. The entire crew stands around silently doing nothing while Ed cries over Izzy and tells him that he's his only family.

And Izzy fucking Hands, the guy who just spent eight episodes bonding with and protecting everyone, uses his last words to reassure Ed that him becoming Blackbeard/the Kraken was Izzy's fault and that the crew is Ed's family and they all love him. No one else says anything to Izzy or tries to comfort him or help him in any way.

I repeat: in a show predicated on the idea that bullies and bigots die stupid deaths while queer people and POC are basically magic, a show that was praised for being kind to queer people by not making them worry about their faves suffering or dying, a show founded on the strength of the relationships between the characters, the guy who went through a season-long arc of learning to embrace his pirate found family and his own queerness is shot for stupid reasons on the side we're told isn't important and dies while everyone just stands there. His last words are about the whole crew loving Ed when the only person that the whole crew has loved all season is him.

Anyway, never mind all that, let's cut to Lucius and Pete getting married and Stede and Ed retiring!

Complicating all this is that people who liked Izzy (or even said anything insufficiently mean about Izzy) were harassed for months in between seasons with insults, slurs, and actual fucking death threats. Izzy's growth was kind of a vindication for liking him: it meant that, despite all the harassment, we were right to like him and care about him as a character. Even people who didn't like him initially started to like him during Season 2.

And then he dies, and now there's a bunch of people saying that Izzy fans are big whiny babies who can't handle fictional death, and actually his death was so meaningful and beautiful and the only logical end to his arc, and it can't be bad writing because people die in real life all the time, and also he admitted he fed Ed's darkness so actually he was a terrible person all along anyway and they were right to hate him (and his fans)!

So, yeah, there are a lot of reasons why it's so hated, and I'm probably only addressing the problems of the pro-Izzy people (from what I can tell, BlackBonnet shippers who don't like Izzy think Ed and Stede's relationship is fine and dandy, but I'm sure that there are other criticisms they have that I have not addressed). I'm not even addressing the issues with Jim and Oluwande's relationship this season (and whooo boy are there issues).

It wasn't a universally bad season. There were episodes I really loved and still do. But the finale was a train wreck, and because it was a train wreck, a lot of people are looking back at what happened before the wreck and realizing that, oh, the train lost its brakes and steering because of the budget cuts and the engineers kept throwing fuel in the engine to make it go faster, and huh, now that I think of it, that part earlier in the trip was really wobbly but I didn't pay much attention to it at the time because I was sure the engineers had everything covered.

[edibleashell]

TUA S4 feels

Pretty sure that Umbrella Academy S4 finale left a permanent scar on my psyche. Still one of my favorite shows but I might just end after season 3 in future rewatches. So many issues with S4.

In like episode 1 we got Ben and Jennifer touching and that started a countdown to the end of the world and the whole season was just junk to fill that time. So many good ideas that weren't done properly at all. Shuffling their powers? Alternate timelines? Hargreaves owning pretty much everything? Abigail just being alive? Pointless.

Luther was just a repeating loop of stripper and home decorating jokes.

Diego should have been a martial arts instructor or something not a depressed delivery guy. A bunch of jokes about him getting out of shape only to reveal that he's still jacked. He throws a potted plant and misses. His arc is just Big Sad for no reason and the relationships he built in the first three seasons were apparently irrelevant, if anyone would have been taking care of Safety Klaus it would have been him.

Allison's character was just an accessory to Klaus, after three seasons of her trying to reclaim the family she lost she ended up spending more time as a tool to Klaus's arc than she did with Claire. And Ray just being casually written out was so disrespectful.

Klaus, oh poor Klaus, my favorite character, what did they do to you? He should have been a nurse or something but instead he was paranoid, then pissed off because the writers decided that Klaus would equate marigold with drugs and just fall right off the wagon? And then he goes to some sketchy guy he owes money to even though S1 Klaus is shown just buying drugs from random people? All to justify his prisoner plot, none of which had any real impact. And he can fly for a second for some reason. Okay.

Five working for the CIA was bad. He should have been the retired fun uncle to Claire and Grace. After spending fifty years trying to get back to his family why did he keep leaving them? Why did he hook up with his brother's wife after only six years? And am I supposed to believe that in every timeline he has the same haircut? That none of the other Fives lost their arm? How did he never notice his boss's blatant umbrella tattoo? He just casually strolls through "his" apocalypse as though he doesn't have ptsd, and why were he and Lila living off sewer rats when they had infinite timelines to scavenge?

I was so excited to see Ben witg the family but one episode in he becomes a bomb and fucks off with a girl who can hardly be called a character.

Viktor was the only character I thought got some form of authenticity and justified growth, his arc kind of seemed like a ripoff of S3 Klaus though. And we missed out on what could have been a really beautiful scene of him drawing the upside down umbrella on his arm.

Lila went from "I don't want to be like my mom" to a motherhood cliche. And what was the deal with her family? She just found her parents and they immediately accepted her or something? Was there another Lila in this universe? That made no sense. If anyone would have joined the CIA it would have been her. Her and Diego should have been weird parents teaching their kids how to fight and kill but instead they got some domestic life that those characters never belonged in.

And there's so much more! Abigail is alive? Hardly relevant. Why did she body snatched Gene, it didn't really seem to change anything. The Keepers existed only to be a minor obstacle in the last episode. And are her and Reggie aliens? Why? How? What's the point?

AND DURANGO? THAT'S A CAR! Harland named marigold and for a farm kid that makes sense (though the retconned acceptance of that word into Umbrella vocabulary was irksome) But Durango? Abigail is a scientist and she names The Bad Dust after an SUV? Why?

AND WHY WAS THERE ZERO QUEERNESS? Each of the first three seasons had some sort of queer arc but not this one. I still wonder if some higher-up didn't intentionally assassinate the show as backlash for the immense respect S3 gave Elliot Page.

One last thing, music is a big part of the show, they've always put such thought and care into the soundtrack and it makes sense knowing who the creators are, so why, of all songs, was Baby Damn Shark the first song to be featured in like three episodes? It seems intentionally disrespectful.

I'm done, rant over, I'll never recover from this.

[gazzistt]

·˚ ༘₊· 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 🧘🏾‍♀️

itadori, sukuna and choso headcannon // here me out…all three of them as siblings. sukuna as the eldest, choso, then itadori.

notes┆︎i usually reference this au when writing my [ itadoriolderbrother! sukuna x reader ], so if you want to know more about that world refer to here :))

⊹˚∘ SUKUNA.

Sukuna grew up spoiled. SPOILED. Being the first and only child of Kaori and Jin at the time, they gave him everything he could ever want.

I like to think that Jin and Kaori were rich as hell. I'm talking about five estates all decked out in multiple traditional-style mansions. They had maids, butlers, attendants—everything!This is where Sukuna spent most of his time and can explain why he acts like he’s better than everyone later in life.

Sukuna was homeschooled for the beginning of his life, never having to mingle with regular people. He learned everything from the comfort of his home, attendants at his beck and call. It was here he learned etiquette, manners and basic liberal skills. Afterward, he was sent to the best schools in the country—his parents only wanting the best for him.

As Sukuna grew older he got a job at his father's company and found out that his parents made him the sole successor to ALL of their assets—only adding to his trust-fund nature.

Sukuna had a very close relationship with his parents, so much so that he was devastated when his mother died shortly after giving birth to Yuji.

This led to his more brutish nature, distancing himself from his father and baby Yuji, going off on a more crude path. He became rouge, got in trouble a lot more, and started fighting. Jin tried his hardest to rectify his behavior, but those attempts didn't seem to work out. So he let him be.

Jin soon found himself growing more weary and left Yuji in the care of his parents, Co-parenting with his father. But, shortly after that, Jin passed away.

Sukuna attended his funeral, and although he wasn't as devastated, it still hit him hard. His grandfather asked Sukuna to visit him and Yuji for some time, seeing as he now had custody over the children as their legal guardian.

However, Sukuna only fulfilled this request during Yuji’s toddler years. After that, Sukuna was as absent as could be. So absent, that Yuji forgot he even had an older brother.

It wasn’t anything personal, but Sukuna was too used to the luxurious lifestyle he grew up with. Their grandfather was a lot more…modest, more simple, more basic. And that was precisely the reason why he stopped showing up.

Sukuna only appeared again when his grandfather died, leaving Yuji without proper care. He decided to take guardianship of the boy and ‘rekindle’ their relationship. Although it was a bit of a daunting task considering he was absent for 16 years of his life. Whoops.

Nevertheless, Yuji eventually came around, the two of them growing close despite their constant bickering and opposing views. Sukuna was family after all.

Sukuna and Itadori lived in a condo in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the area. Itadori didn’t realize it at the time, but his brother was insanely rich. Sukuna never really talked about it, and Itadori never wanted to hear anything about his parents—which Sukuna thought to be a shame, because he would never have the childhood that he did.

⊹˚∘ ITADORI.

Itadori didn’t know what to do when this random man suddenly claimed to be his brother. I mean, how does one even respond to that?

Eventually, Itadori had no choice to believe him. I mean, Sukuna looked exactly like him! It was almost like they were twins, except he had tattoos covering his face, was much older, and had much less face fat too.

It also helped that Itadori could remember Sukuna—faintly, but just enough to know that he met him a couple times in his life.

When it came to living with Sukuna, there were some…difficulties. I mean, he was arrogant, pretentious, and shameless—all the personality traits that made up the people Yuji hated. But Yuji learned how to tune out Sukuna’s voice, choosing not to let his temperament rub off on him.

For the most part Sukuna left him alone. He did have a job, after all. He would fly out for days at a time, coming back home only to chill in his room, and never coming out until he had someplace to be.

At that point Itadori practically made the home his own, the emptiness and barren design choices soon becoming occupied with color and random objects. Like the sudden appearance of a sleeping bag (?), a PS5, clothes, paintings, wallpaper—by the time Sukuna came back home he couldn't even recognize his own home!

“Hey you brat, what the hell did you do to my house?” Sukuna snarled, his briefcase dropping to the floor in his stupor.

“Oh! I thought you were supposed to come next week—”

“You thought?” Sukuna shakes his head, walking towards his brother who was sprawled out watching a movie on his couch. “What? We're you gonna paint my walls too?”

Needless to say, Yuji found himself sleeping outdoors that night.

Amidst the discourse, Yuji did appreciate the little moments he had with Sukuna. Like when he taught him how to fight!

Apparently, to Sukuna, Yuji had a lot of raw strength in him. Whatever that meant. Yuki couldn’t see it yet, but Sukuna insisted to step in to teach him how to punch.

“Kid, what enemies are you fighting?” Sukuna chuckles, throwing his head back with laughter. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing, his own brother—trying to throw a punch with the most dubious of forms.

“Shut it. I don't want to hear it from you.” Itadori tells him, continuing to shadow box in the middle of the living room. “If you don't have anything good to say, then don't distract me.”

Sukuna scoffs, throwing his hands up in his defense. “Whatever. I just can’t watch my doppelganger throw punk ass punches.”

Sukuna then gets up, stopping Itadori from…whatever he was doing. He stands in front of him and throws a punch, showing Itadori a visual of the perfect form.

“Hey, that looked solid!” Itadori said with newfound enthusiasm, bouncing around the room.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, that looked like it would connect!”

Sukuna simply smirks, shaking his head. Of course it looked like it would connect. He was the best fighter he knew—and there would be no way he’d let his little brother embarrass that title.

But the most weirdest moment that happened to Itadori by far was when he gained yet another brother.

⊹˚∘ CHOSO.

One day Itadori got into a little scuffle with some guys. Nothing too drastic—just a slight little altercation.

But, by the time Itadori came home, he was beaten and bruised—clearing losing the fight.

All Itadori knew was that he got absoulety wiped clean by an emo guy with black hair and dark circles. A bit embarrassing to say the least, but Itadori was so sure that he would never see that guy again.

Until…he did.

“You’re not Yuji.” Choso says flatly, eyebrows lifting in confusion.

“Yeah, I'm not.” Sukuna responds, just as confused. “Who the hell are you?”

Currently, Choso was standing outside the door of Sukuna’s condo—how he got there is unknown. All he knew was that his brother was in there and he had to see him.

“I’m Yuji’s brother.”

Sukuna stared blankly at him, a scoff leaving his lips. “The hell you are, that kid was the last one to pop out of my mom, that's for sure.”

“Oh, so you must be his brother? Well, I guess that makes us siblings as well.”

“Huh?”

Sukuna was thoroughly confused. Who the hell was this random ass kid? And why did he claim to be related?—he must be mental.

Sukuna couldn't deal with this so he called Yuji to clarify. That is when he revealed that this was the chump who beat him up.

Apparently, they beat each other so badly that Choso’s injuries led him to believe that Yuji was his brother.

And he was thoroughly convinced. Equipped with shared memories that only Sukuna and Itadori could have known.

Being a kind soul, Itadori decided that they should allow Choso to stay with them—just until he could regain his memories. Although it seemed unlikely, he believed that there really was a chance Choso could be related to them.

Sukuna, however, wasn't too pleased at this idea, since that merely resulted in another mouth to feed. Nonetheless, Choso began living with the brothers—an arrangement that soon became permanent.

Surprisingly, Choso fit in perfectly. Almost as if Sukuna and Itadori were missing a puzzle piece. He wasn’t loud like Itadori, nor was he pompous like Sukuna. He leaned more toward the reserved side, acting as a medium between the two extremes.

He would sometimes chill around the house, playing board games with Itadori and sometimes Sukuna—if he willed it. But the majority of his time is spent taking walks, reminiscing, and listening to music.

Choso‘s friends are kind of shady to be honest, always getting into altercations and trouble. But whenever Itadori expresses his distaste for one of them, he drops them immediately.

I just think Choso is such a family man, always putting their interests first. He is a firm believer of ‘blood is thicker than water.’ Always ready to protect his brothers of any harm should become them.

Thankfully, it hasn't come to that yet—and he enjoys the new home he found for himself.

a/n: finally finished this 😩😩 i need some water. also i just think choso random appearance to be so fucking funny b/c what do you mean your related to me?

© GAZZISTT

[evans23]

I am yours

Pairing : Sinclair Bryant x Reader OC

Summary : Sinclair knows. He knows but he doesn't care because he loves you and you can believe him when he has told you your first time will be nothing short of magic.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : fluffy and smutty puppy Sinclair ❤️ @liviacarol88-blog ; @eccentricchick

A/N : Hello dear 😁 You asked for it, I did it ! Here my version of Sinclair and virgin reader. Tell me guys if you're still up for David's version and I will be more than happy to oblige you =)

Lionel's version is here - David's version is here

Also read on AO3

Sinclair knew. Of course, he knew. Not that he knows everything but that little secret of yours was quite obvious. At least for him.

He has known you for five months now, almost six, thanks to the chance of life. You came from a different world or what you called, for teasing him, the normal world while Sinclair was an affluent man coming from a wealthy family. Not that it matters for him or even his parents. They were happy that their son had found a good woman. Not a venal, never happy and capricious one like his ex. He told you everything about it after one month, when he had understood he wanted you in his life permanently.

You were everything Natalie wasn’t. Beautiful without vanity, intelligent without showing off but also without needing to belittle yourself to receive reassurance or compliment and, even though you were a bit shy and socialising wasn’t easy for you, you accompanied him each time he had a business party and you never complained when he organised a party at his estate, which happened quite often but as long as he was able to do the conversation, you were more than happy to be by his side.

In return, he was happy you could put up with his need to be surrounded by people and how you always did your best to make him feel important when you talked with his boss during a business party. A boss who adored your sharp mind and your ability to use sarcasm subtly.

Yet, despite the fact Sinclair was patient and, if he needed to wait for more months, he would gladly, he wanted you in the more intimate way. His desire was growing more and more since you agreed to move in with him two days ago. You had a tiring weekend, moving all your stuff into his incredible house, with the help of your father who was persuaded Sinclair was the one.

However, Sinclair wasn’t a fool, even though it is true, in the beginning, he had thought you were one of these girl who didn’t want to have anything to do with the intimacy of the flesh before the marriage. Not that he would have minded, he was already too engrossed with you for that but he was clearly not ready to take the plunge again. Not so soon after the Natalie Gate.

He couldn’t fathom how calm he had been after he had discovered the whole affair. Perhaps the fact he had understood everything far before she ridiculed him in front of his friends and colleagues had helped him to refrain from his need to kill Richard or even her. And had he not had the mastery of his emotion, what good would have he earned ?

The divorce hadn’t been too harsh, because when Natalie had tried to get more than what she deserved, he was so worked up that he had threatened her to reveal the truth to the court. A truth that would have sent her to jail.

It wasn’t really him to do something like that but he needed to get rid of her and her brother and he needed to get over the whole situation as quickly as possible. He was so down after his suspicions had been revealed to be true and even more after the divorce. Divorcing wasn’t something we do in his family. We try to work over what is wrong, to mend a damaged relationship. He could have forgiven Natalie for cheating, he loved her enough for that, even if she wasn’t really in love with him to even have just the thought of doing it, but cheating with her brother with who she was related by blood ? No, he could not forgive such an abomination.

Only his mother knew, neither he nor her had dared telling the real reason to his father. The man wasn’t a violent person, but in this case, with all his important professional acquaintances, he would have ruined the woman and as Sinclair had got his way, which meant Natalie was afraid enough to see him use the proofs he had against her thanks to his maid Xiao Mei and Pamela, his parents’ housekeeper who had revealed his mom she had surprised both rascals in the master bedroom, him naked her roughly clothed, that she had accepted all the terms of the divorce and the fact she wouldn’t get a penny of Sinclair’s fortune or half the part of the estate has it had been bought by Sinclair and only his name was on the deed of sale.

And then you arrived in his life, a hazardous, a happy accident. You were like a lighthouse in the darkness of his hazy mind. You met one year after his divorce, but even if he was trying his best to be playful and optimistic with the rest of the world, inwardly he couldn’t forget the bitterness of Natalie’s betrayal. She had humiliated him, slept in his parents' bed with her jerk of a brother, lied to him and in the end, he felt like the one punished, all alone in his big house with his broken dreams for a future with his other half.

Until you. He would never forget that holy day when he had absently darted the crowd while waiting for his coffee. You were in a hurry, your hair disheveled, wearing an inappropriate outfit for the really bad weather, you told him later the forecaster said it would be a sunny day and it was the reason you were wearing a short and a too thin pullover for the day, and you were in an urgent need of a milkshake because in the morning milkshake was for you like the God nectar.

You were beautiful. But too young he thought at first. Looking too young was your curse. Men always thought you were a child of nineteen when in reality you were 33. But then, Sinclair met you again the next day, even though you were absolutely oblivious about the first encounter. You were reading, sat down on a bench in a park under a tree which provided you a shelter for the sun which was finally there. And yet again, you were wearing the wrong outfit. An old grey jogging with the same pullover as the day before. Your hair still an untamed mess. And yet again, he found you beautiful. You didn’t put any effort into your appearance to catch the eyes of others, you were just you. And you were alluring without even trying, at least in his eyes, which very soon became to only eyes that were important for you.

“It’s one of my favorite books,” he told you.

You looked up at him, your hair body bristling at the sound of his baritone voice, and you immediately felt butterflies dancing in your stomach when your eyes dived into his hazel ones. Sinclair was tall, imposing while he was towering over you, with a hooked nose that cast a shadow on his pinky cheeks. And he had the most lovely smile in the world. In one word, you found him handsome.

“Oh really ?,” you answered, “in my point of view, Sense and Sensibility doesn’t match up to Pride and Prejudice. No one can liven up Darcy in my heart,” you added with a smile.

“Darcy is overrated,” he answered, sitting down next to you without bothering to ask you if you were at ease with his presence, because for the first time, he felt like himself, like the heavy lump in his chest was leaving him, letting a feeling of relieve washing over him. And he thought he would never feel like that anymore.

“Oh really ?” you asked, arching one eyebrow, not bothered at all to have him by your side, reveling in his imposing presence, but also a bit self-conscious as the man was undoubtedly looking for your company and you were worried to say something stupid.

“Yes, Colonel Brandon is far more interesting.”

He started rambling about the character and for the first time, he found someone to listen to him without belittling him or telling him he was showing off like Natalie would have done. In fact, for the first time since the divorce, he didn’t think about her once. And after that encounter, you were the only one haunting his thoughts.

But what really enticed him was the fact that you answered him. You always had something to add to what he was saying. And both of you waffled on the whole afternoon about books, films and anything that came up in the conversation. That day, he realised how his ex-wife was uninteresting. She didn’t have any hobbies except for spending his money on shopping spree… and shagging her brother. His parents had been so right when they had told him not to marry the woman so fast just because he was afraid to spend his life alone. Yet, if he had listened to his parents, maybe he would have had the chance to meet you. Life, sometimes, had an odd way to conduct people into the right path, and in this case, towards his soulmate.

He remembered with a fond smile how lovely he had found your accent, thick but understandable and how impressed he was to know you were an English teacher, here in London.

He couldn’t remember exactly when you became more than just a friend to him, when he had understood his feelings were strong and even overwhelming sometimes because he thought he wouldn’t be lucky a second time in love. If he had only been lucky at all in this field.

Sinclair was zoning out, thinking of you rather than focussing on his work, because he didn’t know how to broach the topic with you or if he should. He was ready to wait for you, of course, but he needed to know if you would be ready sooner rather than later. He already knew you weren’t into religion, therefore you weren’t in the wait for him proposing to you for his relief, even though he had already made up his mind about the fact that one day he would have the privilege to call you his wife.

Your reading included some explicit smutty books, so you weren’t really fierce and he wasn’t sure but one day, he had heard a strange noise coming from the bathroom that sounded like a moan, so, he was roughly sure you knew how to please yourself own body and how to get pleasure from your own touch. Therefore, you weren't a prude at all.

But what Sinclair wanted was to be the one pleasuring your body with his hands, his tongue, his cock. He needed to be inside you, to utterly claim you as his.

He was rather an honest, straightforward person in his day-to-day life, yet he didn’t want to make you feel uneasy by being too blunt with you about something you were maybe ashamed of, though he couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t a defect. If truth should be told, he found it endearing. Lovely. Terribly arousing. He was so sure you were a virgin, he would definitely be a bit disappointed learning it wasn’t the case. But he was sure. You were so unsure the first time he languorously kissed you, his hands roaming under your shirt to feel your skin. He had tried thrice to lead you towards the foreplay and what was coming next, but each time you had coyly shied away. Because you were a bit clingy and you liked cuddling with him, something he wasn’t used to but more than happy to learn to do with you, he had arrived to the conclusion you were a virgin and you didn’t know how to display the truth.

However, you knew you could trust Sinclair. He wouldn’t mock you. But how could you explain to him that you had reached the age of 33 without having ever been touched by a man ?

Wasn’t it a bit immature of you ? Maybe he would think finally you didn’t worth the trouble. No, it was not him. You were sure he wouldn’t even laugh, Sinclair was too kind, too pure for that.

When he came back home, earlier than usual as he had a party organised at his house to celebrate a significant contract he and his colleagues had got after hours and hours of hard work, meetings, follow-up meetings and late calls at night with their American partner, he found you in the kitchen, helping Xiao Mei and the caterers he had hired for the party.

You didn’t notice his arrival, and he stayed a bit backward, leaned on the threshold, looking at you with a fond smile. You were always nice to everyone, always helping those who it was the job to work around the estate, and for that, he does love you even more.

He eavesdropped your conversation with Xiao Mei with not an ounce of shame for doing so. Sinclair being always honest with himself as he was with others had started to get some insecurities since Natalie and despite himself, he often needed to be reassured you were completely into him, but also not talking bad about him behind his back. He wanted you to be as sincere as he was and if something was wrong, you must talk with him and not spit out your bitterness to people whose it wasn’t their business at all.

“Sinclair is really happy you have moved in with him,” he heard Xiao Mei said.

“And so do I. Some of my friends think we are going too fast but I don’t think so. When we know, we know and we almost spent all the days of the last five months together. We already have gone through our first argument, therefore I think we are ready,” you giggled.

Sinclair smiled at the remembrance. It wasn’t really a quarrel between you, just a mere disagreement which had been settled as fast as it had begun. However, Sinclair would have liked to settle it under the sheets, with him into you, but at the time he had already understood you were not ready and he already had some suspicions about your virginity.

“And I’m so proud of him,” you added, still unaware of his presence, “he worked so hard for this contract, he really deserves to enjoy himself and his commitment to his work tonight.”

Feeling an urge of pride and affection, he decided it was time to let you know he was here.

“Here is my favorite girl,” growled his baritone voice, reasoning inside the little kitchen.

“Sinclair, your back,” you said with a smile, drawing closer to him to kiss him on the lips.

“I wanted to be sure you weren’t making the whole meal yourself,” he joked, poking your nose with his hooked one playfully.

“Oh ! I almost had to threaten her to cut her hands if she continued to do my job for me,” bantered Xiao Mei.

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny, both of you,” you uttered playfully, “Actually, I arrived five minutes ago, therefore I haven’t even had the time to steal a piece of the desert Xiao Mei made.”

“And how was your day ?” asked Sinclair, sneaking up a salted cupcake from the tray behind you, ignoring the disapproving look of the housekeeper.

“Exhausting. A whole bunch of dunderheads. And yours ?” you asked while preventing him from stealing another cupcake.

“Exciting. I’ve a new client. A very interesting person. He worked with the CEO of Harrods and you’ll never guess about…”

He started to talk about some white powder during night parties, which wasn’t surprising for him, either for you, and he went on and on and on, happy to see you really listening to him and answering him accurately without trying to shut him up or to change the conversation topic because you didn’t care about what he had to say. The truth was that you always cared for Sinclair and his needs and you didn’t mind his incessant talking, it wasn’t as if the man had nothing interesting to say after all, he was so cultivated and everything could catch his interest, something you found endearing.

The night went well. You were glued to Sinclair’s arm most of the time, but he didn’t mind, he liked having you beside him while some of his coworkers were glimpsing at you. Before Natalie, he wouldn’t have been jealous, but since her betrayal, he couldn’t help the feeling of possessiveness which washed over him each time a man looked at you with a glint of desire tinkling. He tried his best to not overwhelm you with these new insecurities of his, but you understood where it was coming from and didn’t mind at all. In fact, you were flattered a man as Sinclair had noticed you and you felt a feeling of protection when he was clinging to your hand, subtly marking his territory.

Your societal abilities weren’t as developed as your other skills and you were grateful Sinclair did all the talking. Not that you were bothered with meeting new people, but you were rather an introvert and a crowded room with too much noise and the need to make some small talk about nothing particularly interesting was a bit exhausting for your mind.

As the last guest had just left, you went to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower. Sinclair, even though he had just finished having his own, felt the urge to join you, to feel your body under his, make his hands run on your skin, kissing your neck…

“Sinclair, control yourself,” he said out loud, shaking his head in a vain attempt to make his thought disappear.

But it was already too late, he could feel his member hardening in his underwear. When you popped up in the bedroom, only wearing a mini shorts and one of his shirts, his desire to take you here and now was burning him from the inside. Yet, he knew he had to be tactful to not frighten you away.

He casually took his place in the bed, patting the other one to urge you to join him, which you did willingly.

You cuddled up, making the best of his warmth to warm up your cold skin. Sinclair put his arm around your shoulders while his other hand was caressing your naked thing with a lingering desire of lust.

You thought it was time for the both of you. You couldn’t shut him down each time he tried something. and you wanted that too. But you weren’t sure if you had to tell him the truth, moreover, although you weren’t a prudish and naive woman, you didn’t know how to initiate it without him noticing your inexperience.

Fortunately, Sinclair, desperate to have a deeper connection with you, began to kiss your neck slowly, passionately, finding that sensible spot that inevitably sent shivers through your whole body.

You made your nails run through his hair, scrapping his scalp, which had for effect of making him moan loudly.

You watched him closing his eyes and you couldn’t deny your own desire for him while he was irradiating so powerfully that you could feel it.

You kissed his cheeks, his neck, then, without being able to fathom what got into you, you straddled him in a swift motion. Sinclair was taken aback by your action, feeling less certain about his assumption concerning your virginity, yet he knew you weren’t completely innocent in that matter.

And, while things became more intense, him patting hungrily your breasts under the shirt you had decreed was yours since you had moved in, he felt your hesitation. It was just a little flinch in your attitude and you continued to kiss him, but less ardently now that you could feel his length pressing against your covered pussy.

Sinclair had the feeling you were ready for that. Everything in your corporal language screamed how you wanted that as much as him. But he feared, you back away again if he didn’t take the lead from now on. Not that he would coerce you if you weren’t in for a treat, however, Sinclair was sure it was the right time for both of you.

He hesitated before eventually deciding to let you come to him if you needed to admit something to him. After all, maybe was he wrong and if that was the case it would be embarrassing for both of you. Anyway, he already made up his mind that he would be gentle and if he was right, he was roughly sure he would be able to feel it by the way you would move under him and by how tight you would be. The blood could also be an indication he thought, though not all women bleed during their first time he remembered himself.

He fidgeted a little bit under you to turn you around with a swift move so that you were under him.

One of his hands was playing with your nipple, making the wetness between your legs worse, while his lips were busy leaving a string of sweetness along your throat to your neck. You will have several little bruises of love the next morning, for sure.

When he tried to remove your shirt, he felt you stiffened and he stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes.

He sat down and forced you to lean up against the headboard with him. You looked at him with a mixture of trepidation and puzzlement.

“Honey, is there something you would like to tell me ?” he asked gently.

You looked down, blushing, something he found enticing.

“I won’t judge you, no matter what you want to tell me,” he added, his tone soft to not trigger you.

You opened and closed your mouth several times, your blush intensifying. The problem wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sinclair, it was that you were so ashamed to admit it. How many times your girlfriends had told you it wasn’t normal and it would repulse any man with who you would want to commit with. You had never accorded any attention at their talking that you always qualified as rubbish, but here you were, more ready than ever to make love with our amazing boyfriend, but also with all your doubts and insecurities.

Sinclair felt he should help you. He kissed the crown of your head, feeling a little bit hurt at the sight of your distress. He sighed heavily and held out his hand to grab your chin to force you to look at him.

“Are you a virgin honey ?” he asked without any mockery in his tone.

You didn’t look away, but tears invaded your beautiful eyes. Unable to answer, you just nodded once.

“Don’t cry, darling. I didn’t ask it to embarrass you,” he said while laying several kisses on your cheek, forehead and head.

“It’s just… I hoped you wouldn’t figure it out,” you whispered bashfully.

“But why ? Don’t you trust me to tell me that ? We are together as a couple now and you told me a couple shouldn’t have any secret for one another,” he reminded you.

Indeed, after having heard the gruesome story of his marriage with Natalie, you told him that a couple should share everything, even more their struggle and their disappointment towards each other. More importantly, you mustn't go to bed without having sorted out any argument between you. You were the one who had come up with that rule and Sinclair had immediately settled on with it. He wanted to build up a healthy relationship with you above the foundation of love and communication.

"I trust you, I swear, it's just..." you shut down one more time, biting your lips so hard Sinclair thought you would eventually hurt yourself.

"But what ?" he asked, his soft tone appeasing you.

"I was afraid you could be disgusted with my state," you said so low he wasn't sure if he had clearly understood you.

"Disgusted with which state ?" he asked, arching an eyebrow, "Do you have a terrible sexual disease that could kill both of us ?" he asked seriously.

You knew the question was rhetorical and you felt more embarrassed than before.

"Darling, you don't have the cholera, you are a virgin, it's not a defect or a shortcoming."

You looked at him, searching in his eyes for any form of deceit despite you. You couldn't stop your insecurities from gnawing at you. Sinclair could see how uneasy you were and he tried to soothe you down a little bit.

"I really don't understand why you give so much importance to it," he said, caressing gently your cheek.

"I don't know... Some of my friends kept telling me how strange it was to be 33 and still not having managed to get rid of my virginity. And my closest friend seemed to think that it was the best way to frighten a man and make him run away from me," you answered without looking at him.

Once again, he forced you to look at him, his hand guiding your head towards him. The tears in your eyes threatened to fall down at any time soon and you felt like a little girl who had just made a mistake and was on the verge of being scolded.

"Your friends are stupid. All of them. Truth be told, I find it arousing," said Sinclair before placing a kiss on your nose.

"Really ? You don't find me weird or something like that ?" you asked, a feeling of relief beginning to wash over your anxiety.

"Any man in the world would find it incredibly endearing, arousing and quite exciting too. But, I can't help but ask myself how a beautiful and smart girl like you has never met anyone, let alone never made love with anyone."

You shrugged, reveling in his soft touch against your neck.

"Maybe because I'm too smart," you answered genuinely.

Sinclair agreed. After all, he had read in a book that the more intelligent a person was, the more difficult it was for the said person to make acquaintances, true friends and to find the right partner because it made you more picky, more demanding and more in the need to be with someone because you were really in love with that person and you could find some peace and relieve with the right one, the one who could complete you.

He could relate to you as, for too long, he had thought Natalie was the right one. The one he needed. Only his parents, at the time, had understood his fear of being alone all his life like his cousin, a wealthy businessman at the head of the largest media company, surrounded by the most beautiful masterpiece of the greatest painters, possessing as many incredible cars as Sinclair, but terribly alone and bitter.

"Also," you started shyly, "I don't really attract men. I mean, I'm such an introverted, bookish girl, socially awkward. It's a miracle you noticed me. Another one that you didn't care about our social differences."

"Darling, please, not that again. You know I don't care about that kind of thing, either my parents don't care. You're such a courageous girl to have gone through all those awful things and still standing, facing the world, living away from your country because it was the only way to fulfill yourself."

You blushed under his praises. He told you so many times before and he will do it again each time you will need to hear it.

"I'm... I"m sorry," you stuttered.

"And now you are apologizing again and I don't even know why," he said half serious, half joking.

"To not have told you the truth immediately. At least, when it became serious between us. You deserved to know. Yet, you knew. You always know everything," you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"It wasn't really difficult to fathom it out, darling. At least, for me. Even though I wasn't sure. It could have been anything else, you could have been in an abusive relationship in the past but the way you act around me left little doubt about the fact you were still untouched rather than afraid of me."

Sinclair, pragmatic and direct as always, explained it as if you were an equation he had resolved long ago. You chuckled a little bit, feeling some reassurance that he wasn't revulsed at all but rather excited about the news.

"I feel so unfit for this world," you said calmly, "And I was so afraid to never meet you. London is quite a big city and I felt swallowed by it, invisible, even though I was invisible in the quaint little village where I used to live too. But here, I was so alone while surrounded by so many people. And then you arrived in my life and I... I just knew. But then, I was so afraid of your reaction. Honestly, I don't think I would have told you if you hadn't guessed it."

"Honey, there is no shame at all to be a late bloomer. Once again, I find it enticing !"

As to prove his point, he started kissing your throat, delving slowly down your breasts, your belly, your thigh, then he climbed up before stopping above your pussy, still covered with your shorts.

"Do you want it ?" he asked, surveying your face to seek any sign of hesitation.

"Yes," you said in a breath. "I"m sure you're the right one, the one I've waited for and I want you to have it."

You kissed him with fervor as if you wanted to prove to him how you wanted him. Again, Sinclair pinned you under his body, leaving a lingering kiss on your face. You put your hand under his shirt, giggling when he hissed at your cold palm on his chest, then, you helped him to get rid of his shirt.

You looked at his chest, musing how he could have a toned stomach with all the food he was eating, not that you mind either what he could eat in a day or if he had or not his hips poking over his pants. You loved him entirely, the in, the out and the in-between.

But when came Sinclair tour to take off your shirt, he stopped to look into your eyes, searching for something you couldn’t fathom.

“Sinclair ?” you asked with trepidation.

Could he have changed his mind, finally ?

“Promise me,” he said in a husky voice, full of desire, hungriness, but also something that wasn’t usual for him, uncertainty.

“Promise you what ?” you asked with concern, caressing gently his face with the tip of your fingers to soften his features.

“Promise me you are not using me to get what you want and then you will leave me.”

At his words, you felt a pang of sadness for the man you loved. Sinclair was always so composed, so strong, and even if you had talked together about his past depression and The Affair, never had he let you think he was living with the fear of you betraying him like his ex-wife. Even though you didn’t have any brothers, you could still go away, trying to see if the grass was greener, but you were too honest with yourself to do something like that and also totally mad about Sinclair.

The love you felt for him was something you had never felt before. Never ever would you be able to hurt such a beautiful person, even least when he was giving you everything you dreamt of and even more. Sinclair had offered you a world full of possibilities, a world you didn’t even now you could walk through.

“Sinclair, I have not saved myself for so long to finally choose to do it with the first man enough interested in me to make love with him and then throw him away like dirty clothes,”

He wanted to talk but you cut him short, putting your hand on his mouth.

“I wanted someone who would love me as I am, the good, the bad, my anxiety, my shortcomings, everything. I have waited for a man who would respect me, with who I would have fun and with who I could speak about everything. In fact, before meeting you, I didn’t know you were the one I was looking for. So, I promise you Sinclair, this is not an evil game of mine. I am totally committed to this relationship and profoundly in love with you, I want you to be my first love but most importantly, my last love.”

The doubts in Sinclair’s eyes flew away, replaced with a predatory look. Your words were what he needed to hear. He already knew that, but he needed you to tell out loud what he represented to you, how important was this relationship for you because for him it was already too late, he was so fond of you that sometimes he woke up during the night with the fear you could leave him.

He was not used to that sort of invasive thought, it had begun after the initial shock of what Natalie had done and it had become worse after the divorce. And here you were, comprehensive, gracious, and in love with him, something he thought he would never get, not after the terrible questioning he had gone through after the divorce. How bad of a husband had he been if Natalie preferred to shag her brother rather than trying to sort out her problems by talking with him ?

“Sinclair,” you said softly, “don’t get lost on me,” you almost begged him, “the past is in the past. I am not her. I am yours.

“And I am yours,” answered Sinclair, resuming his kisses on your body, finally taking off your shirt.

He licked one of your nipples, sucking and biting it playfully. He felt his length hardened at the same time your nipple did in his mouth. With his thumb, he brushed up and down over your other nipple, trying to ease you as much as possible to make it enjoyable for you.

He knew the first time could be painful and he wanted you to forget the pain to bask in the pleasure he was willing to give you. It should be the connection between two bodies, two lovers, two souls, not just him taking what he longed for so long, since he had understood how drawn he was with you.

“Sinclair,” you moaned under his touch.

You arched your body, wanting more, wanting him, which made him laugh.

“Slow here, darling, we don’t want to rush here, do we ?” he said, letting the hand that was brushing your breasts go down to the hem of your shorts.

Before slipping his hand under your panties, he asked you one more time if you were ready for that.

“If you need more time, if you want us to go slower, I’m happy to wait for you. I don’t want this if you are not sure it is the right time for you,” he said, though inwardly he desperately hoped you wouldn't refuse his endearments.

You felt a surge of affection for him and his understanding.

“I want this. I want you Sinclair.”

It’s all he needed. He leaned in, slowly to give you the time to brace yourself and stop him if you had any doubts, but he hoped you wouldn’t do that, his member was almost hurting him as he wanted you so much.

You tussled his hair in your way to pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss he was giving you, your tongue fighting with his while his hand found its way to your pussy.

You pressed instinctively your legs together, but your wetness couldn’t lie, you needed him and Sinclair could feel it.

“Don’t worry honey, I will take it easy on you.”

He started rubbing his thumb against your clit. Sinclair had read once that it was easier to give an orgasm to a woman when she already had one and the best way to relax her was to stimulate her little bundle of nerves. He also read that he would probably do that again once he would be inside you, as it wasn’t easy for a girl to have an orgasm just with her cock partner, even when the said cock was bigger than average. Actually, he was a bit afraid to hurt you as your walls were probably too tight, therefore he would take his time with the foreplay.

His thumb was still working on your clit and his tongue on your breasts when he inserted his first finger inside you, making you gasp in surprise to feel him inside you. Yet, it wasn’t painful. He played with your wall a tad before reaching your opening with his middle finger, pushing it slowly before scissoring you slightly.

You were already wet, but definitely not ready for him. He continued to make his fingers play and stretch your walls before finding what he was looking for. He knew he had reached it when you let out a moan louder than the other ones.

“Sin… Sinclair,” you stuttered, your mind confused amid the pleasure which was invading you.

“Give it up [Y/N],” he murmured in your ear, hitting tenderly your earlobe.

You didn’t need more to come, not as hard as he hoped, but he was discovering your body and how to please you. It will be a patient exploration, one that will not be done in one day, fortunately for him and for you.

You kissed him anew while he removed his fingers from you, looking expectantly at your reaction. The sight of your glimmering eyes should mean you were rather satisfied until now.

“Are you still sure ?” he asked.

You nodded and he gently squeezed your hips.

“Use your words [Y/N], because I won’t do anything if I am not sure here. I won’t do anything you don’t ask me to do, I…”

“Oh please Sinclair,” you cut him off, “yes, I still want you. I want you inside me and now,” you said urgently, which had for effect of making him laugh.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you ?” he said, teasing you with his thumb which he rubbed slightly against your fold.

“Only for you, Sinclair,” you answered in one breath.

He stroked his manhood several times to get harder, then he placed himself between your legs. You shivered at the sensation of his cock tip against your entrance, trembling with a mixture of anticipation and arousal.

“I will be gentle, [Y/N]. But if you need me to stop, just say so.”

“Yes, Sinclair,” you said, your eyes delving into his hazel one.

You kissed his hooked nose which cast a shadow on his cheek and he took the opportunity to slowly enter you. He stopped when your hands grabbed his shoulders, more by surprise than any real pain at this point.

He could feel how tight you were, how careful he must be to make it as pleasant as possible, even though he knew pain was unavoidable.

You stroked his armpit when he resumed his way inside you, always with care for your well-being, surveying your eyes, your face, to catch any sign of discomfort.

You hissed when he broke your hymen, but he blocked your little scream with his mouth, caressing every inch of your body with his lips to make you forget the pain his cock was inflicting on you.

Looking down, he saw the crimson liquid tainted the sheets, yet he was reassured to see you weren’t bleeding too much.

“Can I move, my love ?” he asked you.

You said yes, though you weren’t sure if you could bear having him fully inside you as he was already stretching you so much.

You held his shoulders, shoving your nails in his skin, but Sinclair was so engrossed with his duty of pleasuring you with the least pain possible that he didn’t even notice the pressure of your fingers on his back.

Your body arched slightly when he entirely filled you. Yet again, Sinclair held still to let you enough time to adjust to his cock, brushing your breasts with the tip of his fingers, while he used his mouth to distract you with a string of kisses in your throat.

He felt your inside contract around his cock and it was his clue he could move. He started to move slowly, ensuring your initial pain was ebbing away, at least a little bit. When you moaned at one of his swift motions, he retained a smile of pride at the understanding that he was doing what he should.

“I’m… I’m sorry Sinclair,” you managed to stammer between a moan, “I don’t really know what to do to please you,” you explained coyly.

His face softened at your words.

“Having you in my arms, like this, is enough to please me, honey. Believe me, I am the most happy man in the world right now with the precious gift you are offering to me.”

The twinkle in his eyes matched up to yours. Both of you were exactly where you should. In the arms of one another.

When you moaned louder than the other times, Sinclair speeded his thrusts a tad, determined to make you come first. This night wasn’t for him, it was for you.

Unfortunately, the passion was too intense and he couldn’t restrain himself any longer. With two deeper thrusts, he came into you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

When he straightened his face, all you could see was the sheer ecstasy of his orgasm. He was handsome. The most handsome man you could have met in all the sense of the term. Yet, you couldn’t help too feel a bit frustrated but he reassured you immediately.

“We are not done [Y/N], I’ve enough stamina for a second round and you will have your pleasure too, darling.”

His baritone voice sent shivers through your body, while his thumb found anew your sensitive clit, stroking it in an exquisite slowness.

“Sinclair,” you half-moaned, half-pleaded.

You could feel your orgasm building up inside you and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips, trying to pull him towards you. His chest crushed on yours, though he did his best to bear his weight on his forearms.

“You’re so beautiful, [Y/N],” he whispered in your ear, kissing your cheek.

The pain mingled with the pleasure he was desperate to provide you with.

“Sinclair, faster, please,” you begged.

More than happy to oblige you, he intensified his thrusts and you felt estranged from your own body. What Sinclair was doing to you had nothing to do with the pleasure you were able to give yourself with your fingers. It was more intense and there was that feeling of connection with Sinclair that made you feel complete for the first time since long.

Little did you know that Sinclair had the same thought at the same moment as you. He felt an urge of happiness so throng he could have cried if he wasn’t such a composed person. After the humiliation of Natalie and Richard’s affair, he had thought never would he meet the path of happiness again. How wrong he was and for the first time how pleased he was to not have figured out something correctly.

“Sinclair,” you loaned, his own name like a song into his ears.

He intensified a bit his pace, reveling in seeing your body tremble under his while his thumb continued his dance against your little bud.

“Haaa, Sinclair, please…”

He thrust harsher than the previous times, pressing at the same time his thumb against your clit, and you let go of your pleasure.

“Sinclair !” you cried out while he held your convulsing body against his, kissing your mouth with passion.

He held you until you came down from your high, your body still shaking from your encounter, a satisfied smile and your face and a smug one on his. He pulled out of you with one last kiss on your lips to muffle your hiss of discomfort at the loss of his warmth inside you, but also at a new kind of soreness.

He cradled you against his chest, letting you have the time to bask in the afterglow of the love you had shared.

“I love you,” you said while a sort of calmness invaded you.

“And I love you,” he said, kissing the crown of your head.

He asked you if you were hurt with some trepidation, remembering the little pool of blood in the sheets, worrying more when no answer came. He glimpsed down at you to see you sleeping soundly in his arms and his smile grown wider if it was possible.

He wanted to pamper you after that to make your first time completely worth it. He had planned to run you a bath in which he would have joined you before more cuddles in bed, but everything he had in mind to lavish you with could wait the next day. He didn’t want to disturb your sleep, taking some proudness to have you safe and sound in his arms, to have you at all, entirely.

He looked at you, his heart swelled with affection, knowing that now, no matter what, he was sure to have the perfect one by his side, the one who had waited so long to give herself to the one she thought would be worth it and he couldn’t describe how his entire being was reignited, knowing that he was that person for you because you were definitely his person and he couldn’t wait to see what the future will reserve for both of you as a couple. Because from now on, you were his past, his present and his future.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

I think it's kind of interesting that Viktor is overshadowed by his siblings both in the canon and fanon.

In season one I could understand it. Despite Viktor being the main character that literally drives the entire plot, everyone focuses on the other characters. People make fun of Luther for talking about the moon all the time. Everyone is almost creepily obsessed with Klaus and the Vietnam fling that he had. No one really talks about Allison, but her story is primarily linked with Viktor's since she's trying to heal their relationship (fandom misogyny too). I think that there's a decent amount of talk around Five since he's such a fascinating character. There's quite a lot of talking about Diego too, since he loses Eudora and spends a lot of time trying to take care of Klaus. But no one really talks about Viktor and the amount of shit that he goes through in s1. All the siblings other than Allison completely abandon him too, and Allison only wants the idea of a 'sister' that she's built up in her head since she lost her husband and daughter.

In season two, it makes even less sense to not talk about what Viktor has done. He has a queer love story with Sissy and we get to see way more development and chemistry for, Klaus and Dave had a montage and some sad lines from Klaus as opposed to an entire arc through ten episodes, but no one really does anything with it. Allison gets basically no attention for the same fandom misogyny issues as before. Five gets some attention because of the fact that he's exhausted and still dealing with the Commission (his fight scenes are amazing). Diego gets the same treatment as Luther did but a little more deserving because the plan to save JFK was stupid. Luther gets totally sidelined and ignored too, but people really hated him in S1 so I'm not surprised. Klaus gets all the attention again even though his plot outside of Ben possessing him is honestly really boring and makes me so uncomfortable.

Season three is where Viktor should have gotten the most attention. If we're considering the fact that the TUA fandom has a very queer audience, then they should be super excited and celebrating the fact that Viktor is trans. Not only that, but he's also working his ass off so that he can fix things for Allison and get her back to a timeline where her daughter exists or back to the sixties. I think a lot of people ignore that, giving Five more credit than he deserves for trying to fix the world when Viktor was doing that until Harlan showed up and he wanted to handle that first. A lot of attention during the debut went again to Klaus, which was actually warranted this time since he was plot relevant by showing us things about Reggie and discovering his powers. Diego got more attention since he was parenting Stan and fighting with Lila, which was nice. Five got some meme attention but nothing serious and Luther got a little bit of genuine love. But mostly people just posted the conversation where Viktor comes out to his family and continued to ignore him.

Now Season four is out and no one cares about Viktor. He stands up to Reginald and says all of the things that he needs to say, he fights like Hell to try and save Ben from the Durango and get him someplace stable, he owns a bar and got fucking KIDNAPPED. No one is talking about him, all people are doing is complaining about fivela and the ending.

Viktor moved to Nova Scotia probably to get better trans healthcare, but also because none of his siblings care about him. My man is a tiny trans man that got kidnapped and ransomed off the street and they couldn't care less about him when they show up, Five is taking notes about the room they're in instead of checking to make sure that his childhood best friend is okay. Luther may have made him best man at his wedding, but it was just because Viktor had only just come out and all the other siblings were non options (never been close with Five, butted heads with Diego who didn't even want the wedding to happen, not their Ben, and Klaus was officiating) which was the same reason Lila was Sloane's maid of honor. Diego and Viktor barely spare two words at each other despite their closeness in the comics. Lila and Allison say something briefly to him before they also fuck off further into the plot.

Viktor isn't liked by his family despite them trying to include him in it when it's convenient for them, and he's also disliked by the fandom. I went into the TUA tag and about half of the top twenty posts were about someone else with him tacked on as an afterthought.

[avicris918]

This came to me and I don't know where I want it to go. I had to post it somewhere, hopefully to get some feedback.

"You're right. Nobody will mourn me when I burn in, but that's because I've had nobody for the past 15 years. When I made the decision I did, I lost everyone. I kept a promise and in return I was left, again. Story of my life, right?"

Maverick shook his head, ridding himself of the voices starting to overtake his mind, and turned to leave the room.

Before walking out the door he stopped and said "you got everything you wanted, everyone you wanted, and yet you still hate me."

*****

Bradley was standing there, the anger still coursing through him, when Warlock came into the room.

"He's right, you know."

Rooster sighed and asked "about what?"

"For the past 15 years he's been alone. He made a decision that affected your life of course, but in doing so he effectively ruined his as well."

"How? He was still in the Navy. He was still an aviator. He still went all over the world. I was set back four years. I was stopped from doing what I'd always dreamed of doing. Yeah, I'm here now, but behind where I should be."

Warlock just stared at him, displeasure visible only to those who knew where to look for it.

"Of course, you got here. You got here with so many people backing you up. You got here with a handful of uncles willing to do anything for you. You got here with someone standing firmly in your corner, ready to fight any and all demons that came for you."

"What's your point, sir?" Frustration slipping into his voice.

"While you had all of them at your back, who did he have? The minute it became known what he had done everyone turned on him. Those who had been there through the worst of it, just left. Those who knew him better than anyone, knew he had serious abandonment issues, just turned their backs on him."

"That's not my problem."

"Of course it's not. You had people there for you; you had everyone. He's had no one in his corner for the past 15 years. Every accomplishment, every nightmare, every heartache. He's been alone. Every time he's been injured and in the hospital, he's been alone. Every near miss, he's been alone. All those times he should have had family in his corner, helping to show him there was more to his life than flying, that he was worth more than his injuries, he was alone."

Rooster didn't have anything to say.

"Every trip to the hospital he was asked if he had family or someone they could call for him, he said no. There was no one that needed to be bothered, no one would would care and come anyways. I think after his first hospital visit after everything, he just stopped trying."

"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"Five weeks after everything he was hit by a drunk driver on base. I happened to be at the hospital when they brought him in and heard them ask for numbers to call someone for him. He said he'd call from his cellphone, which surprisingly enough has t been damaged." Warlock narrowed his eyes at Rooster and he instantly knew what was coming. "He tried calling a handful of numbers to call and no one answered. He sent a couple texts and the same thing happened. I called Ice, just to see if he was busy and he answered right away, asking if everything was good. Mav saw he picked up after two rings, and after that he just stopped."

"I…. didn't….but…..why…"

"Why what? Why did he call? Why didn't he keep calling? Why didn't I say anything?"

"He could have called anyone, any of them would have been there for him."

Warlock shook his head. "But they weren't. They weren't because they were so firmly on your side because of all of your hurt, they forgot he had no one on his side. Not one of them was there for him then and since, and he doesn't expect anyone to be there for him now."

Warlock turned to leave and before walking out the door levyed this final shot at the younger man.

"I've been his NOK and POA for 15 years. I've been there, and I know he appreciates it, but the ones he loved and would do anything for, where were they? He would give up his life for his friends, for his family, but where were they? He kept a promise. He did something he knew would tear up one relationship. He did it knowing that nothing would ever be the same. But to be cut off for your entire support system, at the whims and whines of a teenager whom he loved more than life itself, that was a blow. He never thought those who loved him and cared about him and knew him, would do what was done. But they did, because of you."

[80ssuperstar]

Here's another Story I thought of and it's a Mythology Based on my Favorite Horror Stories of all time: DRACULA 🧛🧛🧛🦷🦷🦷🩸🩸🩸 I decided that I'd put regular show characters in them intercourse Mordecai as Dracula himself or should I say MORDRACULA Hee-hee 😅 I know that it's a little early when Halloween begins but you know I just decided to do it a little early so why not?? I hope you love this one. 🩸❤️🩸

**Title: "The Bride of Mordecai"**

### Beginning:

It was a foggy evening as Samantha approached the old, looming castle on the outskirts of town. The air was heavy with the scent of rain, and the trees seemed to whisper warnings with every gust of wind. She had received an invitation to visit, but something about it felt… off. Still, she trusted Mordecai, her beloved, and he had promised her an unforgettable evening.

As she reached the gate, it opened on its own, creaking loudly. Inside, Mordecai was waiting at the grand entrance, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the torches that lined the castle walls. Samantha smiled, relieved to see him.

**Mordecai:** "Welcome, Samantha. I’ve been waiting for you."

**Samantha:** "This place is… incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it."

Mordecai extended his hand, and she took it. His touch was colder than she remembered, but she brushed it off as nerves. He guided her inside, where the castle’s true gothic beauty unfolded before her: dark velvet curtains, ornate chandeliers, and shadows that seemed to stretch unnaturally across the walls.

**Mordecai:** "I thought I’d give you a tour before dinner. This place has been in my family for generations."

As they walked, Samantha marveled at the tapestries depicting ancient stories of creatures that looked both terrifying and beautiful. But she couldn’t shake the strange feeling that something was being hidden from her.

---

### Middle:

After the tour, Mordecai led Samantha to the grand dining room, where the others were waiting. Rigby, Benson, Pops, Muscle Man, Hi-Five Ghost, Skips, and even Thomas were there, seated at a long, dark wooden table, their faces shadowed by the dim candlelight. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, though Samantha didn’t know why.

**Mordecai:** "You look lovely tonight, Samantha."

Samantha glanced down, realizing she was no longer wearing her casual clothes. She was now dressed in a stunning white gown that made her feel like an ethereal angel. Confused, she looked at Mordecai, but he simply smiled as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The butler arrived, carrying trays of food. He set down what appeared to be a steak tartare in front of her, along with a glass of what she assumed was wine. The others eagerly began to eat, their eyes never leaving her.

**Samantha:** "This… this looks amazing."

She took a bite of the dish, savoring the rich, metallic taste, though it seemed a little unusual for steak tartare. She followed it with a sip of the "wine," which had a strangely thick consistency, but she didn’t question it.

As the dinner continued, the butler brought out dessert—a dish of what looked like fingers, arranged with disturbing care. Samantha's stomach churned, but the others devoured it eagerly. Mordecai leaned in, watching her with a strange intensity.

**Mordecai:** "Do you like the meal, my love?"

**Samantha:** "It’s... different. But, it’s good, I think."

The others laughed softly, their eyes gleaming with a dark hunger. Samantha felt uneasy but didn’t want to seem rude. The meal ended with a side of writhing worms, which the others enjoyed while Samantha politely declined. Despite the strange nature of the food, the night was going better than she expected. But as the night grew darker, Samantha began to feel dizzy and tired.

---

### Then:

The butler appeared once more, this time to guide her to her room. Samantha followed, her mind clouded with exhaustion. The room was magnificent—decorated with lace curtains, a canopy bed, and a beautiful nightgown that seemed to be waiting for her.

**Butler:** "Rest well, Miss Samantha. Tomorrow is a big day."

She nodded, too tired to question what he meant by that. She changed into the white gown, marveling at how perfectly it fit her, and lay down on the soft, luxurious bed. Within minutes, she drifted into a deep sleep.

But as the night stretched on, Mordecai made his move. He silently pushed open the door, his dark figure illuminated only by the moonlight spilling through the window. His hunger was too great to resist any longer. He needed her—needed her to be his, forever.

Slowly, he approached her bed, his eyes glowing faintly as he cast a spell to keep her unconscious. She lay still, unaware of the transformation that was about to begin.

**Mordecai:** "You will be mine, Samantha. My bride… for all eternity."

He bent down, his fangs elongating as he pressed his lips to her neck. With a swift motion, he sunk his teeth into her soft skin, the taste of her blood sending a rush of power through him. He drank deeply, filling her veins with his vampiric poison.

---

### End:

As the venom spread through Samantha’s body, she began to change. Her breathing slowed, her skin grew paler, and her heart beat less frequently. Mordecai watched, entranced by the transformation. His bride was becoming one of them—a vampire.

Hours passed before Samantha stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and when they did, they were no longer the soft eyes of the woman who had walked into the castle. They were sharp, glowing faintly with the same hunger Mordecai had felt for centuries.

**Samantha:** "What... what’s happening to me?"

Mordecai smiled, helping her to sit up.

**Mordecai:** "You’re awakening, my love. You are becoming one of us. My bride, my queen… we will be together, forever."

Samantha was confused, but she felt an undeniable connection to Mordecai. The memories of the evening began to blur, and her new instincts began to take over. She felt powerful, unstoppable, and strangely at peace.

The others joined them, their faces twisted into grins of approval. They were a family now—a dark, immortal family that would reign for eternity.

**Rigby:** "Told you she’d be cool with it."

**Pops:** "A most wonderful bride indeed!"

**Benson:** "Welcome to the family, Samantha."

Mordecai took her hand, guiding her to the grand balcony that overlooked the misty forest below. The night was theirs now, and so was eternity.

**Mordecai:** "Now we can be together, always. No one will ever come between us."

Samantha smiled, her fangs glinting in the moonlight. She leaned into Mordecai, feeling a love deeper than she had ever known, and a hunger that would never be satisfied.

**Samantha:** "Forever… I’m yours."

Together, they gazed out into the night, their future stretching before them, endless and eternal. The castle, their kingdom, would be home to their dark love, and nothing would ever tear them apart again.

THE END

For: @fxe4596 , @nicomxm23 , @russthevampireboy , @jgquintelslut , @pinkcandycatmakesart , @anifaz , @isrrael120 , @notadumbdog , @martingeekermmd , @eeveepalooza , @apollothedeity , @sidoresca , @siinhorhy , @insomniacz , @rhyliethecaterfly , @yeetafry , @calledattherndoftime , @breekitty17 , @kiwithekool11437 , @kiko2032 , @orchestralauthor , @untitled14360 , @loudlyhappycupcake, @rigby123, @finn-pot, @konikat1, @moonlighteclipse17, @furrypandacollective, @dbd0812, @issacxjacob, @starwarspurgefan, @pokemonartextreme, @musclemanveryregular, @nastyablossomsworldxclover

[yellowocaballero]

One of the many things that I've been doing instead of writing are these damn manwha binges and Villain To Kill is literally so funny. The comic premise is straightforward action, think Tokyo Ghoul meets Solo Leveling - local Genetically Superpowered Superhero Cop working for corrupt Hero Organization gets #betrayed and #murdered and is reincarnated into the body of a Genetically Superpowered Villain Teenager so now he has to join up with all the other villain superpower people to get justice.

It's so 5/10. Cassian is extremely OP and the story isn't well-written enough to pull that off well. The worldbuilding is so incredibly nonsensical and weak that it falls apart if you think about it for more than five minutes (tried to write fic for it and failed because I would have had to rework the entire world - which, I could have, but that's a lot of effort for Villain to Kill). The plot is mostly any OP action hero plot where guy gets increasingly powerful by fighting increasingly powerful guys. Cassian himself has almost nothing going on internally, to the point of elegance. And it is somehow the gayest manwha I've ever read.

It's the fucking character designs. And like its narrative but it's the fucking 100/10 character designs. The entire cast's design and characters slam. There's not that much depth but we don't care. You know if we don't like somebody if they look vaguely straight, and you know that we like somebody if they look like they were set to tumble dry in the queerness washing machine. The (great!) women are high femme or hard butch. The corrupt institution assassinated a man Cassian loved and framed & murdered him, at which point he was adopted by a rag-tag bunch of flamboyant homosexuals deemed unacceptable and undesired by society who all teamed up and decided to villainize society in exclusively funny ways and spend most of their time gossiping or hacking the Pentagon. An AFAB character dresses as a man and goes by he/him pronouns half the time for no good reason. Cassian is physiologically incapable of thinking about anything but violence so the heartwarming found family scenario's going over his head, but his Painfully Het Hero Foil Indoctrinated Into Homophobia caught the found family ball and now he's dancing in their gay bars and dressing in drag. There's only a few characters who are explicitly gay but this is gayer than that.

I talked a while back about how important a decent supporting cast is to a good story, and this is yet again good proof. Looking at this, I think I'd go further and say - it's an action manwha, we're reading it for a reason, we don't need character-driven story arcs or really complex characters. I think it's just charisma. A story can go really far on characters with charisma.

TV Shows that are carried on the lead actor (Columbo I love you) - it's because the actor has charisma. You watch it to see the actor hang out being himself. That's way way harder to do in fiction, but I think that "a complex character" isn't necessarily a "charismatic character". I'd rather have a cast of only charismatic characters rather than only complex ones. A story of any genre needs a strong cast of charismatic characters. They can be deep or they can just be chaotic lesbians. Charisma invests the reader in the story and the characters. It's simple but it's really powerful. And it is fucking hilarious how sometimes all you need to do on that front is "Rupaul this shit".

I can't genuinely recommend Villain to Kill and this is not a recommendation. But random stuff always interests me like this, and I really had no idea that I would read 120ch of a manwha bc the designs fuck so hard. Also, like, this is queerest manwha I've ever read. Somehow. Fucking somehow.

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go by (Chapter 14) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Chapter 14

When you agreed to be Tenko’s sidekick, playing for keeps this time, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t involve anyone else. You broke that promise almost immediately, but Kazuo made you break it, so you decided it doesn’t count. Your friends who were killed in the Kamino incident weren’t dragged into it by you specifically, but you’re still part of the reason they died, so you have to count them, too. Mitsuru’s stayed out of it by having a girlfriend and being too busy to notice whatever the hell you’re up to, and Yoshimi’s got enough to worry about with her illness. You never wanted your friends to get caught up in this. You thought you’d hidden it well enough to keep Mitsuko and Ryuhei safe, too.

Except now Ryuhei and Mitsuko have met Tenko, and they’ve become the League’s first ever sleeper agents. Every time the two of them show up at your apartment, for any reason, League-related or otherwise, you can’t help feeling like you’ve failed them. You feel like you’ve failed Tenko, too.

Tenko’s not here today. He’s been spending at least some time at the new hideout Overhaul provided in order to keep up appearances, and with Kurogiri on another mission, it’s harder to move people back and forth safely. Toga and Twice are embedded with the yakuza full-time, which means you haven’t heard from them other than a request from Toga to go thrifting and find her a new coat. It’s cold in the Hassaikai base. Compress is usually at the new hideout, too – now that he’s got his prosthetic, your services are no longer needed. The people who spend the most time at your apartment now are Dabi and Spinner. And your friends from before.

Dabi and Spinner aren’t here today, but your friends are supposed to be here at any moment, and as soon as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the secret knock on the door – followed by an order to “let us in, you criminal”, which sort of defeats the purpose of a secret knock. You unlock the door and open it. They both push past you eagerly, only to pause, disappointed, when they realize your apartment is empty. “Come on,” Ryuhei complains. “I wanted to meet the rest of them.”

“Not even your weird boyfriend’s here? Lame,” Mitsuko agrees. “I wanted to give him this.”

She’s holding your high school yearbook. “Why?”

“So he can see all the bad haircuts he missed out on. This –” Mitsuko gestures at you “ – is the result of five years of my influence on your fashion sense. He owes me.”

“Yeah. I’ll be sure to let him know.” You’ll show Tenko the yearbook when hell freezes over. You shut the door. “Do you guys have questions about any of the stuff we talked about last time?”

“No. I don’t care that I’m not fighting,” Mitsuko says. “My quirk sucks for it.”

“Not if you fine-tuned it enough. If you could sense people’s intentions towards you really closely, you’d be able to tell their moves ahead of time,” Ryuhei says. “My quirk could be good for fighting, though. Is he sure he doesn’t want me fighting?”

“Yes,” you say. Tenko was impressed by Ryuhei’s quirk, but if Ryuhei gets captured, he’ll be a potential link to you, and Tenko’s still trying to keep you out of any suspicion. “For right now, anyway.”

“Fine,” Ryuhei says. He sits down on your couch with a thud, and Mitsuko grabs the armchair. You take the other end of the couch. “We got some stuff going. Inada’s been looking into the Hassaikai a little more –”

“We’ll get to that,” Mitsuko says. “Tell her our real idea.”

“Supply caches,” Ryuhei says. You blink. “Storage units aren’t that expensive. We could rent a bunch of different ones all around the country and fill them with stuff you guys need – like medical shit, food, supplies –”

“New information, if we’ve got any,” Mitsuko adds. “Phones aren’t safe. If they’re tracking where your signal is coming from, they’ll find it bouncing all over the place, and that’ll be suspicious from somebody who’s supposed to be in Yokohama.”

“Why wouldn’t I be in Yokohama?” you ask. Then it clicks. “Wait, you think I’m going to be with them?”

“Uh, yes.” Mitsuko and Ryuhei trade a glance. “At some point you have to, right? If you’re their medic, they need you to be with them wherever they are.”

“Kurogiri just comes to get me.”

“What if they need you and he’s not with them?” Ryuhei is giving you a weird look. “What happened with the one guy’s arm – it could have been bad if you weren’t there, right?”

It would have been. Nobody else in the League carries medical supplies, and without you to smooth the way at your clinic, Compress could have easily been reported to the police and arrested. “And it would make more sense for you to be with them,” Mitsuko continues. “Your boyfriend’s a lot more hinged when you’re around. If that’s what hinged looks like for him, I don’t even want to think about what he’s like on his own.”

Tenko’s more grounded when you’re around, or so you’ve heard from Spinner. He and Dabi don’t argue as much, and he’s apparently a lot less apathetic about things. But you’re still taken aback by what your friends are saying. The role they’re envisioning for themselves when it comes to helping the League is the role you’re playing right now, because they don’t expect you to play it for much longer. You hadn’t even thought of that. Are they right?

You’re not going to think about that right now. “I think supply caches are a great idea,” you say. “How many were you thinking?”

“That depends. How much money are we working with?”

Money’s not the only thing it depends on. It also depends on where the League is likely to be, and how easily they’ll be able to travel, and whether they’re more likely to be spotted in big cities with tons of surveillance or small towns where everyone knows everyone, and a whole lot of other questions. Mitsuko points out another benefit of you traveling with the League full-time; the cops still don’t know your face, which means you can move around freely even when the rest of the League can’t. The longer the three of you talk about it, the more it makes sense. You’re starting to wonder why Tenko hasn’t brought you with the League full-time already.

You’re in the middle of looking up storage units when the doorbell rings. The sound scares the hell out of you, like most unexpected sounds do these days, and you rocket to your feet. “Where are you going?” Ryuhei asks. “It’s probably just a delivery. Did you order something?”

You shake your head. “The others might have. They’ve done stuff like that before.”

Ryuhei accepts the explanation, but Mitsuko doesn’t. She follows you to the door. “I’m getting a weird feeling.”

“Like a feeling that the delivery guy is going to kill me?” you ask. Mitsuko shakes her head. “Then it’s fine. It’s easier if I just grab it now.”

You unlock the door and find yourself looking at a man holding a manila envelope. You can see your name written on it, along with your address, in neat but spidery handwriting. You hold out your hand for it. “Do I need to sign for this or something?”

“Nope. Just confirm your name and address.” The delivery guy holds the envelope just out of reach until you confirm both pieces of information. “Perfect. Here –”

He places the envelope in your hand, but once you’ve got it, his other hand comes up, and both enfold yours. The delivery guy is holding your hand, and in the split second before your mind registers just how weird this is, you find yourself feeling sick. Really sick. Dizzy. Nauseous. Another split second later, just as you’re thinking you should pull away, pain knifes through your skull. It’s not just weird. It’s a quirk.

A status effect quirk? You try to pull your hand away, but your arms feel like lead. Your voice comes out strange and slurred. “What –”

“Overhaul requires your presence,” the man says, and your stomach twists. “Come with me.”

“Fuck you.” A pair of arms wrap around your waist and yank you backwards into your apartment. Mitsuko pulls you away from the door and keeps pulling, even when your legs give out and she has to drag you. “Sasegawa, get your shit together!”

The man steps across the threshold into your apartment, dropping the envelope on the floor. “Thought you’d be alone in here. This is going to get messy.”

He reaches for you, but before he can make contact, Ryuhei hops the couch and gets between the two of you. The would-be kidnapper’s hand collides with Ryuhei’s face instead, and Ryuhei’s quirk activates. You’ve seen Ryuhei’s quirk at work before, but it always amazes you just how fast the rebound happens. The kidnapper’s got next to no resistance to his own quirk. Most people don’t. He throws up all over himself and the floor. He’s throwing up blood.

“Okay, what the fuck?” Ryuhei snaps. “What kind of quirk was that? Who is this guy?”

“Hassaikai,” you and Mitsuko both say at once. Mitsuko keeps talking. You’re too busy trying not to retch. “See how his eyes glow green? His quirk’s called Irradiate. It can paralyze people if he wants it to. Or it can kill.”

“So how the fuck did you miss it? You’re supposed to read intentions!”

“His intention was to kidnap her, not to hurt her or kill her! Hurting her is just a byproduct! My quirk doesn’t do what you think it does!” Mitsuko sounds as pissed as you’ve ever heard her. She shakes you. “If you’d just listened to me –”

“We have to do something about him.” You cut her off and gesture at the delivery guy, who’s now having a seizure just inside your doorway. “Emergency services. I have to call them.”

“You want to get him medical help? He just tried to kidnap you!”

“I need him to leave. And I don’t need the cops here.” You know the Hassaikai are under investigation. You’ve already come into contact with them once that the heroes know about. If you’re documented making contact with them again – “This guy is just a delivery guy. We don’t know what happened. When I opened the door and took the package, he started convulsing. That’s it.”

“And what about you? You look like hell,” Ryuhei shoots back. “You’re a nurse. Isn’t helping with shit like this your job?”

Shit. It is your job. If the cops come here, they’re going to ask why you’re not tending to the guy who tried to kidnap you. “One of you needs to call,” you say. You pull away from Mitsuko, fighting the urge to throw up, and head to the delivery guy, tilting him onto his side so he won’t aspirate if he starts vomiting again. “Now.”

While Mitsuko places the call, you try to remember what you know about radiation sickness. Not a lot. You seem to remember that the symptoms correspond to the dose, and that instant vomiting isn’t a good sign. Vomiting blood is never a good sign. But you got nauseous right away, even though you didn’t throw up. If this guy actually irradiated you, you’re in trouble, too. Did Mitsuko say his quirk was radiation, or just that it mimics the effects? You need to ask her, but she’s still on the phone, acting really panicked and hysterical to ensure that the EMTs get here fast. You’ll ask once she hangs up. In the meantime, you’ve got one hell of a headache and a guy having a seizure on your floor. You’re busy.

The EMTs don’t question your story when they arrive. They get the gang member off your floor and onto a stretcher, give you a bodily fluids cleanup kit to deal with the vomit, and book it. Ryuhei’s too squeamish to help you clean, but Mitsuko isn’t. The two of you work on taking the stain out of the carpet while Ryuhei opens the envelope the Hassaikai member brought with him. “I should be the one to open it,” he says when you protest. “If there’s a quirk in here it’ll bounce off of me.”

“Why would there be a quirk in an envelope?”

“Why would the Hassaikai send a delivery guy to kidnap you? These people are insane.” Ryuhei rips open the envelope. “No quirk. Just a letter. It’s – well, fuck. This is bad.”

“Don’t just say ‘this is bad’. Read it,” you say. It’s quiet for a few seconds. “Well?”

“It’s not addressed to you. It’s for Shigaraki,” Ryuhei says. Your stomach lurches. “I guess the guy was supposed to leave it here for Shigaraki to find after he kidnapped you. Overhaul’s saying he doesn’t trust Shigaraki to behave himself just for Toga’s and Twice’s sake – wait, are they hostages? – so he’s going to hang onto you, too. And – fuck, this guy is a freak.”

“Wait, let me see.” Mitsuko strips off her gloves and goes to investigate. You come over, too, but she shoos you back. A moment later, she swears. “We can’t let him see this.”

“See what?” You’re not done with the bodily fluids cleanup, but you peel off your gloves and step around Mitsuko. “He was going to kidnap me. I should get to –”

“You don’t want to,” Mitsuko snaps at you. You’ve never heard her take that tone before, and you’ve heard her get really harsh. Then, to Ryuhei: “We can’t let him see this. If he sees this – look, I’ve been around the yakuza before. I’ve seen some shit. This is fucked up even for them.”

“What is it?” you say, exasperated. You’ve met Overhaul. He creeped you out plenty in person. You doubt a letter could do the same thing.

“I think we should show him,” Ryuhei mumbles. “Let him see what he’s up against.”

Your phone starts buzzing in your pocket, and you pull it out to find a text from Tenko. We got him. We’re on our way over.

They got who? And why are they coming here? How are they coming here without Kurogiri? Are they really traveling through Yokohama on foot? They’re going to get caught. You can’t think straight. Your head hurts. “Mitsu, is that guy’s quirk actual radiation or just the symptoms?”

“Actual radiation.”

You might be screwed. The thought that your would-be kidnapper is even more screwed than you are isn’t much of a source of comfort. You put on a fresh set of gloves and go back to cleaning up the mess of guess-it’s-radioactive bloody vomit on the floor.

Tenko and the others don’t arrive until half an hour after you’re done cleaning, when you’ve switched clothes and showered off and you’re sprawled on the couch, reading the Wikipedia page on acute radiation sickness and trying to decide whether the continued urge to vomit is the result of anxiety or whatever dose of radiation you caught from the kidnapper. You hear the secret knock, but Ryuhei’s at the door before you can even get up from the couch. The door opens, and a moment later you hear Compress’s voice. “Who are you?”

“New ally. Who are you?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Tomura says impatiently. “Let us in.”

Ryuhei lets him in, and the rest of the League piles into the apartment after him. The entire rest of the League – Twice and Toga are back, looking extremely pleased with themselves, and everybody else looks like they’ve had a great day, too. “Overhaul’s fucked,” Tomura announces. “Turn on the TV. I bet they’re covering it.”

You switch on the TV, and everyone comes to settle around it. Twice plops down on the couch next to you, only to scramble up a moment later when Tomura comes over. Tomura’s not shy about being affectionate with you in front of the League. He pulls you against his side, not quite into his lap, and you lean against him, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t want to tell him about the attempted kidnapping, and now you don’t have to. It’s a relief.

It turns out that the League’s revenge against Overhaul is just the final piece of Overhaul’s worst day ever. The heroes moved against him at last, destroying his headquarters and capturing his lieutenants, effectively destroying the Shie Hassaikai for good – and on top of that, Tomura, Dabi, Spinner, and Compress attacked the convoy that was transporting Overhaul to a villain-specific hospital. A hero’s dead. Two cops are badly injured. And Overhaul himself is now short both his arms, and his quirk.

“I was thinking,” Tomura says, “somebody who hates quirks shouldn’t have one of his own. We got revenge for Compress –”

“I took his arm myself,” Compress says proudly. Twice high-fives him. “And in revenge for Magne, we took everything else that mattered to him.”

“Those quirk-destroying bullets he had? Those are ours now,” Dabi says. “Smug bastard. He had it coming.”

“You have no idea,” Mitsuko mumbles. Dabi gives her a weird look.

“We messed with them during the heroes’ raid,” Toga sings out, grinning her sharp-toothed grin. “And I got to see Izuku! He’s so cute when he’s covered in blood. Ochako and Tsu were there, too! I wish I’d gotten to talk to them more – they’re so pretty –”

At least Toga likes the idea of having age-appropriate friends. She’s got a few screws loose already, but only hanging around with you and a bunch of older guys probably isn’t helping. On the TV, there’s another alert – something about a girl the heroes were trying to rescue from Overhaul, who’s since gone missing. “And on that note, Saintess,” Compress says over Twice’s crowing about just how badly they pissed off one of Overhaul’s lieutenants, “we have a present for you.”

He extracts one of his spheres from his pocket and uncompresses it on your coffee table to reveal a messily severed arm. Mitsuko yelps and recoils. “Wrong one,” Compress says hastily, and compresses it again. “This is for you.”

You have a bad feeling about it, and once he uncompresses the second sphere, you’re proven right. In place of the arm, there’s a tiny girl sprawled out on the table. She’s wearing a hospital gown, her arms and legs heavily bandaged. She has greyish-white hair, just like the girl in the picture on TV, and just like the girl in the picture, there’s a horn on the right side of her forehead. She’s also asleep, or maybe unconscious. There’s a hectic, fevered flush in her cheeks, and her breathing is rattling and uneven in a way that raises a whole host of red flags.

“This is Eri,” Twice says as you stare in horror. “Isn’t she cute?”

“She was the key to Overhaul’s plans,” Tomura says. “Her quirk’s Rewind. It activates when she touches someone, and it turns back the clock on their body, or parts of their body. Overhaul was using it in the deleter rounds to turn back quirk factors until they no longer exist.”

“He was being so gross with her,” Toga says. Her mirth from before is gone. “He kept cutting her and using his quirk to put her back together again. We could hear her crying if we went down to that level.”

“The heroes were trying to rescue her, but we nabbed her when their backs were turned,” Twice adds. “And we brought her back here! She should be with us, don’t you think?”

You can barely think. “Can she control it?” Mitsuko asks. “Like, is it active right now?”

“Maybe. Why?”

Mitsuko doesn’t answer. She grabs your hand away from your side, yanks it towards the coffee table, and slaps it down on top of the little girl’s hand. Your entire body jolts, and you struggle to pull free, but Mitsuko leaves your hand there for a second, two seconds, three. When Tomura grabs you and pulls you back, she lets you go. “What the hell was that?” Tomura demands.

Mitsuko doesn’t answer him. “I can Google shit just as well as you can,” she says to you. “Feel better?”

You do. Your headache’s completely gone, along with the nausea, and it’s easier to think – and now you get why she did it. The exposure to the little girl’s quirk Rewound you, past the point where you were exposed to the radiation quirk. You’re not irradiated any longer, which means that by bringing Eri back here, Compress and the others have saved you a lot of trouble. But they’ve also caused a problem. A really big problem. “We can’t keep her.”

The League stares at you. “Why not?” Spinner asks.

You’d expect that question from Tomura or Dabi. Not from Spinner, who lived at least adjacent to the real world until four months ago. “She’s a little kid,” you say. “Kids need stability. They need a roof over their heads and to know they’ll have food and a safe place to sleep every night. And if one of you is about to say that you didn’t have that and you turned out fine – no, you didn’t.”

Dabi snorts. “But she’s so cute,” Toga complains. “Look at her little cheeks. I just want to bite them!”

“No biting the kid. If you’re going to bite the kid we’re definitely not keeping her,” Tomura says. You can’t believe he’s still thinking it’s a good idea to keep her, and when he turns to look at you, you can see that nothing you’ve said has sunk in. “She could stay with you. It’s safe here.”

“No, it isn’t,” Ryuhei says, and you glare daggers at him. “Don’t. I’m not going to act like there wasn’t –”

Whatever he was going to say, it’s cut off when the girl on your coffee table startles awake. She pushes herself to seated with shaking arms, glancing left, then right. Her eyes are bright red, like Tomura’s, and as you watch, they begin to fill with tears. Her mouth is trembling, and so is her voice when she speaks. “Where’s Deku?”

“Oh, come on,” Tomura complains, and the girl cringes. “You want Midoriya? Really? I – hey!”

You’ve elbowed him into shutting up. The girl is curling in on herself, arms wrapping tight around her knees. “He was going to save me,” she whimpers. “Him and Lemillion and the man with the glasses –”

“They did save you. From Overhaul. Then we saved you from them!” Twice chirps. “It was no trouble. Say thank you!”

“Hey,” you warn. They brought Eri to you. It’s your job to help her. You turn to her and soften your voice. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re safe here. Nobody here is going to hurt you. I promise.”

She shakes her head. “Nobody here will hurt you,” you say again. You don’t even want to think about what it must have been like for this girl to live under Overhaul’s thumb, being tortured by him to manufacture the quirk-canceling bullets. “You aren’t in trouble. You’re not going to be in trouble, and even if you were, there’s nothing you could do that would make one of us hurt you. That’s not what we do.”

“Overhaul –”

“He’s gone,” Tomura says. Eri looks at him. “We got rid of him. I took his quirk away and left him for the heroes. He’s not coming back.”

“We’re not him,” Spinner adds. “He sucked.”

Eri’s shoulders relax slightly at that. Then her face crumples. “I want Deku.”

You preemptively elbow Tomura, then start strategizing. If you touch her, you might get rewound further than you want to be, so you need to find a different way to comfort her. You hand her a box of tissues first, pluck a few out to show her that it’s okay to take them, and get to your feet. “The rest of you, stay where you are,” you order. “I’ll be right back.”

Your apartment doesn’t exactly have kid stuff in it. You find a spare blanket in your hall closet and come back, unfolding it and settling it carefully around Eri’s shoulders. She’s picked up the tissue box, but instead of using it, she’s hugging it. At work, you keep a box of cheap stuffed animals to give to scared kids, for them to hold during their appointments and take with them when they leave. You don’t have any stuffed animals here, so maybe you can give her a pillow. Or –

You head to your room on autopilot, dig into the box of things you brought from your parents’ house, and come back. Tomura’s eyes go straight to the object you’re holding. You know he recognizes it. He wouldn’t be staring like that if he didn’t. “Is that –”

You nod and crouch back down next to the coffee table. “Eri,” you say, and she looks at you. You hold up the plush corgi Tenko gave you for your sixth birthday. “I’ll trade you for the tissue box. This is way more fun to hug than that is.”

Eri’s red eyes brighten ever so slightly, but she’s hesitant to reach for it. Maybe she thinks you’re going to take it away. You set it down on the table and push it towards her, making sure to pull your hand away so she knows you aren’t planning to snatch it back. You feel the smallest sense of relief when she drops the tissue box and grabs the plushie with both hands, hugging it tight against her chest. It’s really cute. Or it would be, if you didn’t know why this is happening to her. If you didn’t know why she’s in your apartment in the first place.

She peers at you from between the plushie’s ears. “Who are you?”

“I’m Saintess,” you say. You’ve never called yourself by your code name before. You feel twenty kinds of dumb. “It’s really nice to meet you. But I know it’s probably not comfortable to sit on the coffee table. How about you go sit in that chair –”

Dabi’s in it. Tomura glares at him until he moves, and Eri stumbles over to it, trailing the blanket and clutching the toy. “And get comfortable,” you tell her. She burrows into the blanket, watching all of you with enormous eyes. “Do you feel okay?”

“Cold,” she says. Chills, then. Probably a fever, too. “It hurts.”

All those bandages. You don’t want to know what’s underneath them. “Okay. I’m going to put on some gloves so it’ll be safe for me to touch you, and then I’ll take your temperature and check to make sure you’re okay. Is that all right with you? It’s okay if it’s not.”

Eri hesitates. “Will I feel better?”

“You won’t feel worse,” you say. She nods, and you go back to the hall closet for your first-aid kit.

You try to tune the others out as you tend to Eri, but you can’t quite make it stick. Dabi is asking Toga and Twice about which heroes they dealt with during the operation against the Hassaikai, Compress is raiding your kitchen, and Spinner is way into your personal space, wanting to know what’s going on with Eri. Tomura is, too, at first. You catch him watching you more than once, a weird look on his face. You know him well enough to know most of his expressions, and that one’s new. You wonder what it means.

Then, while you’re waiting for the thermometer you just put in Eri’s mouth to beep, you glance back to check on Tomura, and he’s gone. He’s over by the kitchen table instead. There’s an envelope in his hands.

No. No, no, no. You grab Ryuhei, order him to take the thermometer out when it beeps and memorize what it says, then race towards Tomura – but you’re way too late. The envelope and the letter inside it crumble to dust as you reach him, and when he looks up at you, his jaw is clenched so tightly that the tendons in his neck are standing out. “What happened?” he snarls.

“Lower your voice,” you beg. You don’t want him to scare Eri. “It’s not a big deal. Nothing bad happened. It’s just –”

“Don’t fucking lie,” Mitsuko says, coming up beside you. You don’t have to warn her to keep her voice down. “That yakuza bastard sent a hitman here to kidnap your girlfriend. It would have worked if Ryuhei hadn’t been here to give him a taste of his own quirk.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “The Hassaikai’s been dismantled, right? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“They knew where you were,” Tomura says flatly. “When I find out who told them –”

“Nobody had to tell them.” The pieces are coming together in your head, slow and ugly. Overhaul saw the bandage on your hand at the warehouse. He’d have known that the League would need to seek help for Compress, and the free clinics are the only place where an injury like that won’t result in immediate police involvement. “A Hassaikai member showed up at my clinic. He asked about my hand.”

“Overhaul brought it up, too.” Tomura’s right hand lifts, clawing at his neck – lightly at first, then harder. “You – Inada – why did you use the kid’s quirk on her?”

“She got radiation poisoning. That’s the fucking hitman’s quirk.” Mitsuko ignores you when you tell her to shut up. “My guess is, Over-fuck knew he could fix whatever his hitman did when he got ahold of her. Him fixing it wasn’t an option. So I used the kid.”

“I owe you.” Tomura is still scratching, and now he’s focused on you. “They knew where you were. They’ve known since we made the alliance. It – fuck!”

“Hey, keep it down,” Spinner calls anxiously. “You’re scaring the kid.”

“Her temperature is 40 degrees,” Ryuhei adds.

Shit. “We need to table this,” you say to Tomura. His eyes flash. “That girl is really sick. It’s not safe for her to stay here, and I can’t help her the way she needs. She has to go to people who can help her.”

“The heroes? Fuck that.”

“She has to,” you say again. “They can help her. We can’t.”

“What makes you think they’ll do anything?” Tomura’s expression twists. One of his nails digs deep into the side of his neck and pulls up blood, and just like you did before, you cover his neck with your hand. “They won’t give a shit. They didn’t when it was – when –”

He breaks off. You wait, and he looks away. “Forget it.”

“They’re running her name and picture on the news,” Mitsuko says. “They care about what happens to her, and you all are in enough trouble without another kidnapping on your record. They’ll look for you twice as hard.”

Tomura’s fingernails scrape lightly across the back of your hand before his hand comes to rest over yours, index finger raised. “I’m not just dumping her on the street.”

“You won’t be,” you promise. “I’ll take her to the police station. I can say I found her wandering around –”

“So they’ll think we just dumped her on the street.”

“Or that she got away somehow. I don’t know.” You don’t have time for this. “Her fever’s high enough that she might not remember anything. If she does, she’ll remember we didn’t hurt her. That we took care of her while she was with us. She’ll know we aren’t him.”

Tomura’s shoulders relax slightly. It matters to him to be better than Overhaul. It matters to you, too. “Hang on,” Dabi says from where he’s leaning against the wall. “Maybe we shouldn’t send Saintess to drop the kid off. She’s had one run-in with the Hassaikai already, and the police already know about it. Her turning up with the kid is too big of a coincidence. Inada should be the one.”

“Two run-ins. Overhaul sent somebody here for her.” Tomura’s hand tightens around yours. “Her identity’s compromised. When we leave this time, she’s coming with us.”

Your stomach drops. “The kid trusts her,” Tomura continues. “And she’s a nurse. It’ll look like we left the kid by the clinic or something.”

“Why does it matter where we drop the kid off?”

“So we don’t end up looking worse than they do,” Tomura snaps. “What’s the point of revealing their hypocrisy if we just throw someone away?”

It’s quiet for a second. “Wait until nightfall, then,” Dabi says shortly. “So we can at least keep a lid on the number of people who see Saintess wandering around carrying a missing kid.”

“She’s sick,” Spinner says. “Doesn’t she need help as soon as possible?”

“Not if it gets us caught!”

You’re on Spinner’s team here. “What if Compress uses his quirk on me and Eri both? Then he can bring us near the police station, so we won’t have to walk as far and risk getting spotted. We won’t even show up on camera until we’re right there.”

“What kind of distance can you release your quirk from?” Tomura asks Compress, who shrugs. “If it’s far enough, you can give the sphere to Inada or Sasegawa to carry.”

That’s the plan they settle on, eventually. Compress will use his quirk on you and Eri, Mitsuko will carry you both to the police station and text when she’s there, and Compress will deactivate his quirk from a distance. Eri’s breathing is raspy. You need to hurry. You roll her up carefully in the blanket, making sure she doesn’t touch you. “The puppy,” she mumbles. “Can I keep him?”

“Of course,” you say. You were too old for it, and you don’t need a keepsake of Tenko when you have the real thing. “He’ll take good care of you as long as you take good care of him. Are you ready to go?”

She nods. You pick her up. Rolled in the blanket like this, she’s unwieldy but light. You turn to face Compress. “Okay, let’s do this. We –”

You get compressed mid-sentence, and the next thing you know, you’re standing in an alleyway a block and a half from the police station, face to face with Mitsuko. “Be careful,” she says. She looks pissed, and you’re not sure why. “Look, me and Ryuhei are activating the sleeper thing right after this, and you’re going with them. We’re not going to see each other for a while.”

Oh. “I’m going to miss you,” you tell her. Mitsuko laughs. “They still don’t know my face. We’ll see each other.”

“We’d better.”

“Keep an eye on Yoshimi for me,” you continue. “And Kazuo. I worry about them.”

“We all do,” Mitsuko says. “And now we have to worry about you, too.”

You feel a surge of guilt, one that melts into bemusement when Mitsuko leans in and plants a kiss on your lips. “Go on. I’ll see you around, Saintess.”

Saintess. That’s your name now, isn’t it? It’s the one everyone’s going to use. Mitsuko leaves the alley first, heading in one direction. You stand still and watch her go, watching a piece of the life you had before disappear around the corner. Then you adjust your grip on Eri and aim for the police station.

[silenttale22]

THERE FOR YOU |JJK|

Idol!BestFriend!Jungkook x Reader Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, hurt/comfort Warnings: Only Swearing Note: Hi sweetheart, thank You for being here! Let's celebrate for our lovely clingy bf Jungkook and his new song (stream SEVEN btw) Mv made me even more delulu than I was… Damnn, okay, hope u will enjoy! Both - my shot and song ;)

“She broke up with me. I just can't fucking believe it,” you jumped on the couch at the sudden voice filling semi dark flat.

Your eyes widen, as you raise your head above a bowl full of ramen to see your best friend drop - he literally drops his leather jacket on the floor and heads toward the kitchen. You could have heard the boy slam the door of YOUR fridge right before the sound of the can opening reached your ears. You scoffed to yourself, knowing it was probably the last pear beer left that was so rare to get, perfect for those evenings after hard hours at work. And for a while, you could think about when and where you are going to buy the next one.

You got up from the sofa, still holding the bowl, tears pouring into the corners of your eyes from too much spicy noodles. You approached the intruder in the kitchen, scrubbing your slippers on the floor and muttering countless curses under your breath. As soon as you stepped through the door, you noticed black hair on the table. The white shirt contrasted with the hair color, and the hands covering his head with rolled-up sleeves emphasized the tattoos, almost every one of which you could easily recall from memory.

You'd be making eyes at him if it weren't for the mixture of wrath and irritation running through your veins right now. You always thought he was lovely on the inside as well as the outside. Even though many people believed he was just a pretty face, yet how much he did for you, made you think otherwise. And it irritates you not once how the "fans" objectify him. Jungkook appeared in your life pretty out of the blue and it wasn't a friend from childhood or something like that.

You bumped into him about five years ago while looking for your high school journey group. The trip to London was one of the best you've ever experienced, and who'd have thought you'd accidentally fall into someone's chest - especially someone famous - in the middle of Trafalgar Square when you walked out of The National Museum, terrified of being late. That day, you thought one of his bodyguards, who almost seized you by the collar of jacket, would literally toss you to the ground, but Jeongguk stepped in and helped you, and it was the first time when seeing him made your heart beat faster.

He quietly asked for your phone number, saying he'd undoubtedly get in trouble but doesn't care. That was the first time you heard him laugh, and you saw a lovely smile. Yeah, the one where his nose wrinkles with joy, has been your favorite ever since then. From then on, despite multiple fights, you never even thought of leaving him on his own. You both promised to stay by each other side.

Jeongguk in fact showed up at one of your toughest moments. A trip to London was meant to provide brief comfort and let your hair down but it brought you an extra angel with you. Yes, even though the boy hated this word as it always led to an argument - if I'm an angel, you're mine as well - but you couldn't call him anything else. Your family life was a disaster, and the funeral of the most important person in your life, along with a failed effort to save him, drove you to despair. The days were filled with void, so you became cold and distant as a result.

After disappointing everyone, you believed that no one needed you anymore, that your existence was so miserable that it didn't deserve to be continued. Boy made you feel far more comfortable, and you could even say he made you feel loved. Thanks to his support, the dark fog that wrapped around your eyes slowly disappeared into thin air, allowing you to see again - see how colorful the world is, how much is still ahead of you, and, most importantly, how much you deserve.

That's what it was about him. He would help everyone around him, support whomever he could, only to eventually lock himself away with all his problems alone. After a whole day of smiling at everyone and extending a helping hand, boy would end up on the couch in his apartment - often crying because he was afraid to ask for support. He considered it somehow weak, however, just for his own sake.

You had a tough task explaining to him that there was nothing wrong with seeking help. He couldn't understand at first that more drinks or beers drank wouldn't suddenly make all problems disappear. You were one of the few people - besides, the members of the group he belonged to - who knew how boy's life was outside the curtains and bright lights. Sometimes you also had the impression that the fans forgot he was only human just like them, forget that he also deserved rest and, most importantly, privacy.

There were already too many times when boy hid panicked with spasms of crying in your arms, saying that again thousands of pictures were taken of him when he was at the gym, or that it's hard for him to leave the studio because he's surrounded by crowds. And yes - he's famous, he should realize that this is how it's going to be - but there are limits.

Boundaries that are too often crossed, often threatening his life.

From one conversation, when you told your boy that you were always there for him and he could come to you with any problem, the visits became more frequent than you could have imagined. He was able to come at different times of the day, in different moods, more than once dragging you out of bed and begging you to make him something to eat. The number of times you wanted to curse your friend for feeling too comfortable is now uncountable.

The moment when he just so happened to start taking the extra keys so he wouldn't have to wake you up or distract you because of the fact that you were working from home, was pretty groundbreaking, and you probably wouldn't have found out it if not for the one time you broke your key in the lock trying to lock it down from the inside. The other pair wasn't on the permanent hanger so you started to panic and called none other than Jungkook, who turned out to have the key with him - announcing it to you as if nothing ever happened.

You had a fight with him that day and maybe you were selfish, or maybe not because you are also entitled to a moment of peace, the silence between you lasted a week. A sense of guilt began to eat you alive inside, but nevertheless, your inner struggle continued - it would have been different if he had asked for those keys, but no - he had just taken them like that, without permission. It was a whole long week when you focused on nothing else but Jeongguk, yet you were prideful enough not to call or ask if he was okay. Only one day he came alone, sobbing, breaking your heart into millions of pieces. He apologized to you then, promising not to do it again.

And you believed him, because, after all, he is your friend.

“You must be fucking kidding me right now” you grunted, seeing on the counter already opened packages of jellies, which were for worse of worst occasions “When did you take my second pair of keys to the apartment - again. I thought I clearly told you to not take them and burst here whenever you want ”

“Yeah, yeah” quiet murmur gets to your ears making you even more mad. You threw the bowl on the counter, and with frustration painted on your face, you looked at the boy.

“Jeon Jeongguk stop acting like a child - again. What's happening to you? What was that with the jacket? There was only one day, one freaking day when you weren't here over the past two weeks - and it was because your mom called to meet with Bam! And I'll make sure you buy back everything you've eaten out of my fridge this week.” He groaned , got up from his chair and out of spite poked you with his shoulder, to get walked past you.

You were about to speak again when boy picked up his jacket from the ground to place it on hangers, but his heavy body falling on yours and his arms wrapped around your waist immediately took your speech away. The gentle cologne got into your nostrils, and boy's nose snip made you sigh softly and embrace him. Jeongguk curled up in your arms, appearing tiny - if that's possible for someone who's almost 1.80 and has steel musculature.

And that was it, his arms that could turn the greatest anger into blissful silence and peace. You could have started arguing again, however, what was the point? He would come here anyway, and you could only wonder why.

Yes, you offered it to him when he needed support or a break from the world without being left alone, but boy almost lived with you. You had already thought more than once about renovating the second room, which theoretically stands empty, to make a bedroom for him. Jeongguk, however, would insist on sleeping on the couch in the living room, or on a chair in your bedroom when he was afraid of being left alone, but still not invading your space. You adored him, you could say you even loved him. But his behavior wasn't the behavior of an ordinary friend, especially a friend who has a girlfriend - had a girlfriend.

“You better have an amazing explanation for all of this Jeon Jeongguk” The boy groaned frustratedly burying his head strongly in the crook of your neck.

“Stop calling me by my whole name. It makes me feel even worse,” you roll your eyes at his words and tried to pull him away from you to look at his face but he stuck to you again, not letting you free from his grasp. “…please stay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't but I have nowhere to go. You're my only safe place. I'm sorry” You stopped wiggling and sighed quietly, hugging the boy back. Stroking him reassuringly, you felt his body relax in your arms

“What happened Googie…” you could feel his small smile at the nickname, but you just rolled your eyes again waiting for the story.

“I had a fight with her. As always happened anyway.”

“We're fighting too yet I never kicked you out - maybe I should?”

“NO! It was…kind of different type of fight. I mean, you, we, ugh…when you usually start a fight it's because you want what's good for me and for you, it's like - you're always right, but with her I dunno. She said I don't have time for her.” and now you groaned because uh, he's an idol, he's not going to spend every second with you…

“But she knows how tight your schedule can be…” he hummed and there was a moment of silence “And you met with her pretty often these days”

“Yeah, but she said that I talk too much, too much about you, I mean, But…I don't think it's true, tho. I mentioned once or twice about our going outs and about how you always play with Bam, and how you sing with me when no one wants to, and this when you get up at night to run and help me in slippers when I called that my apartment is on fire - you remember? When I was drunk then and it was only the projector with fireplace. And how you always put my favorite move when I'm sad, also how you cooked for me every time in the middle of the night - not kicking me out because I woke you up and I know you just like Yoongi hyung when someone wake you up - but you never even shouted at me, never when I needed you.” you listened to him and your heart just beating faster

“Kook, that's definitely more than once or twice”

“She said that she knew from the beginning.” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the boy, brushing his hair away from his face to finally look into his doe sparkling eyes. His cheeks were flushed, dark brown irises shimmered like the night sky and you felt like you were looking at the entire universe. “That I always think about you. That I never imagined her when it was necessary. But I didn't, you know, think she, she would just break up with me like that. I expected I don't know…something, different. And when I came here downright, filled with wrath I couldn't understand why - because she broke up with me or because she was right. ”

Your heart once again pounded faster when Jeongguk's gaze wandered over your face, still supporting you steadily with his hands. You, however, fled with your eyes, and for the first time in his presence, you felt so flustered.

You never acted differently in his company, most of the things boy mentioned you often did impulsively - but he was right, you didn't do that towards everyone.

Sometimes you had a hard time getting out of bed to do something easy for your own family yet you were able to make a plate of pancakes for him at three in the morning. You never paid attention to how well you filled each other out, how many things you had in common, or how often you understood each other without words - this was your Jeongguk - your stupid bunny friend who got on your nerves like no one else, but just that - he was yours. Always was.

“Listen, I don't know what should I say…” you started but still flustered in your words, you shut down

“And that's something new, let me admire it for a while” he chuckled quietly when you send him a death glare, and again pull you closer to him.

“Oh, shut up rabbit or I'll kick your ass already” you huffed but he only laughed again, and smiled at you wider - if that's even possible. The wrinkles on his nose were visible, which made you smile as well. That meant he was happy. “As for someone who just get the brush from his girlfriend, you're pretty happy”

“Fuck the girlfriend when I have my whole universe in hands now” You could feel your cheeks turning hot and thousands of thoughts running through your head. You melted under his touch, his voice calmed you like no one else, and his scent was addictive like the best drug.

“Stop it!” You slapped his shoulder when again tried to snuggle into the crook of your neck, which only boggle him and by the expression on his surprised face you almost burst out laughing.

“Who gave you the right to slap me?” He sent you a puzzled look, which turned into a sneaky smirk a moment later. Not a second passed when the boy picked you up to carry you out of the kitchen and attack you by tickling you on the living room couch.

“Naa-haa, Koo, stop, shit…” you laughed along with him, trying to fight, coming up with the idea already to attack him with the fluffy pillow “Revenge bitch!” you shouted and smacked him again, making him die with giggles until he grabbed his own pillow to hit you back.

“Thought you could win pretty one” he smiled down at you when you lay tired on the couch.

Messed up and tangled hair was sticking a bit to your forehead through sweat, but for Jungkook it apparently didn't change anything when, with the same softness and love in his eyes, he gently brushed it away so that he could look into your eyes and moments later nuzzled his nose against yours making your heart leap with joy.

You couldn't count the number of times you mentioned to Jeongguk that the love of your life should do that with you once you managed to find that someone.

And here you found, as it turned out, five years ago, only you yourself didn't realize how much affection grew inside your chest every time you saw him. Only now you were thinking back to how happy you were, still living in your hometown, when he would text you every moment or how you spend hours on video calls when your boy's schedule wasn't so busy. At first, you didn't even hope that this friendship could last - such a long distance between you looked like a challenge, but when you managed to move to Seoul after 2 years of finding a job, things might have seemed easier. And indeed it was at first, but when you start spending a lot of time together and arguments started because one wanted better for the other. Now you could have thanked those fights because they nevertheless showed that you both cared.

“Lost in words again, what am I doing to you, hm?” The boy squeezed in next to you on the couch, trying to arrange himself so that you were both comfortable. You, however, only rolled your eyes and looked at him again, looked into your private universe, and almost stopped yourself from sighing - he was right, what was he doing with you…

“I think you exactly know what you are doing - wishing for death from my hands”

“From yours? Sure I can take that, as long as it's you, then fine”

“Koo we cannot do this” you murmured, making the boy groan

“Why not? We know each other for so long.” yeah, of course, you do but it's weird for you, the longing for him and being scared to lose him was ripping your chest apart.

“We were friends for so long it's…it's weird” boy hummed with agreement, but it didn't stop him from stroking your hair gently “And it's not I, I don't feel anything, I'm just scared. What will everyone think?”

“They will think that you are the best girl ever. Because you are.” you gasped, reaching out your hand to stroke Jeongguk`s cheek "And we will take it slow, I promise. Not that everyone around us didn't already love you."

“Fine. But slowly.” He send you the prettiest smile in the entire world again and with his nodding head hugged you tighter.

“My family is thinking that we are together anyway” he whispered, making your eyes widen

“Jeon Jeongguk!”

The quiet music played from the small radio standing on the countertop as you were swinging with your hips, mixing the ingredients while making the lunch. Humming quietly the sounds from the speakers, you were about to grab some seasonings when a sudden loud bang echoed through the apartment, making you jump and burn slightly your hand that was still stirring the soup.

A hiss left your lips, and you tried to rub down your hurting palm, as you made your way to the living room from where the sound was heard. And all you saw was one of your plants lying on the floor, all together with the dotted dirt and parts of the pot. Now it was a crying whine that left your lips, as you quickly came back to the kitchen to grab the small broom.

“Jeon Jeongguk you are fucking dead to me!” you screamed, as you came back to the living room and popped a squad to sweep off the residue of your lovely plant.

But firstly, as an answer, the muffled bark came to your ears altogether with the subtle tapping of paws. It took seconds as the long tail was wigging next to you, hitting you slightly and the wet nose start to tickle your face. You sighed quietly, knowing that Bam is always the first one to calm you down or protect you whenever you were together but this time even this couldn't help.

“I'm fine baby, your dad is just driving me mad today.” you huffed, petting the dog's head as he let a muffled bark again. “Jeon Jeongguk!” you yelled again, as whole dirt was on the spatula. This wasn't the first time singer got a smack in the head, as he unusually gets into trouble from hour to hour since morning, starting by kicking you out of bed and a while before that hitting your face while sleeping.

“Oh for fuck sake, it wasn't me!” he yelled back, coming back to the room but as soon as he appeared, Bam let out a growl standing right next to you. You patted the dog with your free hand, but it did nothing as he still was sizing Jungkook as if he could do something more than leaning on the doorframe.

“Yeah, then who this time? Because if I'm not mistaken you were the only one playing here and jumping around when you couldn't shoot the right one point in game.” you squinted your eyes, putting a hard expression on your face.

“It was Bam,” the boy said confidently, and when you looked up at him and then at the dog who was constantly walking around you, still protecting you from getting hurt, you come back with your glare at the boy and snorted as you knew perfectly well that the dog was lying on his bolster, observing you, until you left the kitchen.

“It was you, my baby wouldn't do that.”

“Did you just choose my dog over me?” you scoffed at his words and as the boy was trying to come closer, Bam barked making Jungkook stop immediately with confusion drawn over his face

“Didn't I a long time ago? Besides, he was with me the whole time, you liar.” you looked with a raised eyebrow, to which the boy just rolled his eyes

“Then maybe marry him and not me” he snapped suddenly with a groan which only made you scoff again

“I'll think about it and you better look for the same pot to buy it back” you added leaving the kitchen with the spatula and Bam, who escorted you to the kitchen and took his place again on his bolster.

“I've always known this dog likes you better than me, but to growl and bark at me?” Jungkook said, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the countertop right next to you, when, after throwing away the dirt and the remains of the plant, you returned to cooking the soup “Unbelievable” he snorted, sending a death glare to Bam, to only meet with another bark.

“If you had been nicer and more careful then maybe this wouldn't have happened, but you decided to kill my Felix” you tempted, pushing him slightly to get some seasoning that was stored in the cupboard behind his back

“You should stop getting your plant's names”

“You should stop playing your games unless you tie down your ass to the couch”

“You should…” he stopped suddenly, which made you look at him but it took a second when your hand was in his, closely looked out “When did that happen?” Boy pointed to a burn covering the whole side of your palm, making you just roll your eyes

“I get startled when the plant has been knocked down, I was taking some ingredients and my hand just touched the pot” you recalled with a shrug of the shoulders, though, the boy didn't take it so lightly and quickly disappeared behind the doorframe to return with an entire first aid kit filled with all sorts of medicines and supplies “Kook I don-…”

“Nah, shut up and give me your hand” he interrupted you right away, pushing you gently away from the stove and turning down the gas after which he sat you on a chair and began to apply some kind of burn lotion on your hand, then wrapping it in a bandage. “You should be more careful”

“Said who” he groaned at your words, but said nothing more

“I'm sorry okay” he mumbled, putting the supplies back into the first kit after a long silence

“Still want my pot back” he pouted but you only chuckled and get from the chair to pinch his cheek “But I love you, you ass”

“I love you too” he answered, hugging you from behind as you get back to the stove again and stealing a quick peck from your lips

“But blame our baby one more time, and you'll get your head snapped off” he groaned something under his breath again, keeping his head hidden onto the crook of your neck which muffled his words, but apologized at the end

As an apology Jungkook helped you also with finishing the meal, proposing meanwhile to spend together the whole evening watching tv series, and as at first, you weren't so up to it knowing how many books is waiting for you to read, you agreed at the end being a sucker for his doe eyes.

And now you've been watching him, hiding behind the frame door as he was getting ready the couch with thousand of pillows and some plushies he get from your shared bedroom. Head leaned gently against the wood, and your eyes followed every move with adoration while listening to the popcorn in the microwave burst out with more grains. It was not long after Jungkook's throwing of plushies was joined by Bam trying to grab flying objects in his teeth, and you just laughed at every shout from the boy who approached the dog to pick up a toy or pillow he caught but only ended up wrestling with him on the floor. These were the carefree moments you loved so much.

Your gaze dropped down onto your right hand, and the ring resting on one of the fingers brought tears to your eyes. You never expected that you could end up in this place. Engaged to your best friend, on top of that, an idol you couldn't get rid of for years to come. A smile painted itself on your face, but the sudden silence in the room, which only moments ago had been filled with screams and the occasional woof of a dog, forced you to raise your eyes to meet it with Jungkook, who was still grabbing the pillow held by Bam with one hand.

You sent him a brief smile, which he was probably planning to return if not for the stronger pull of the Doberman, that caused boy to land on the ground, and an uncontrollable laugh escaped your lips, to which only your boy groaned, and the dog happily ran towards you dropping the pillow under your feet.

"Of course. You guys are always laughing at me, betrayers." Jungkook muttered under his breath, which made you laugh again and pick up a pillow from the ground to toss it in the boy's direction but you didn't think that Bam would run right after it, crashing impetuously into the sufferer sitting on the ground "For fuck sake Bam, could you move your ass from my face please" you just nodded in disbelief at the howled words and disappeared into the kitchen to put the already made popcorn into the bowl.

You came back into the room a moment later, seeing Jungkook still fussing with the dog like two children on the floor, but the moment you set the bowl on the table and your body slumped on the couch, hardly a second had passed when Bam curled up next to you, leaving no space for the boy what was a reason of a loud whine escaping his lips.

“You must be kidding me right now. This is my wife, not yours!” he complained, trying to push the dog from the bed

“Not wife yet”

“Shut up Mrs. Jeon, that's an argument between me and our child.” you rolled your eyes and took the tv remote to choose something to watch, completely ignoring the wrestling happening right next to you, as it is your everyday life for years.

In the end, Jungkook made it and squeezed in next to you, holding your waist tightly and sticking out his tongue which made the dog bark at him. And you only rolled your eyes, shushing them both down as you already put the series on the tv.

“Come here baby” You patted the small space that was between you and the backrest of the couch, and couldn't even wait long to Bam take his spot, half on your legs.

“I swear, you love this dog more than me” Jungkook mumbled, tightening his grip on your waist but you left a sigh, and with one hand now you were petting Bam, and the other one was stroking the boy's hair.

“And what with that? You both behave like big babies I have to look after.” you said quietly, hearing how both of them let out a loud huff “That's what I'm talking about, but I guess like father like son”

“But we are always there for you, loving you, and caring as well, so don't complain and watch what you choose” You let out another sigh, but agreed quietly to the boy's words, and leaned your head against his, listening to how his steady breathing with his arm still wrapped around you brought a sense of safety. A warmth you thought you would never experience was filling your chest with each passing moment.

And before you met Jungkook, you always wondered about what love actually means. Watching all those relationships shown in books or movies, they seemed literally unreal to you. You never thought something similar could happen in real life, and sometimes you even hoped they didn't happen. Love may be beautiful, though never simple. It's not just a feeling, if you find that other soul coming on the same frequencies, it's something much bigger. And before your boy, you thought that something like destiny simply couldn't exist, that nothing can be written in the stars, and that a happy ending doesn't really happen. Yet, it all hides in different corners and shows up at the right time, as it turns out, and love itself keeps trying multiple times, if not this time then the next.

Jeongguk came into your life at a moment when you did not expect it to happen at all, but that is how it goes. He appears out of nowhere, slowly filling your inner being with warmth, wrapping you in stable arms of security and endless trust. And how could you have known that your heart would choose this person and not another? You couldn't, because you never know who will show up for you at the right time. We never know with whom our soul, lost in the vast world, is connected.

[hahasuchagarbage]

Do you have any liquiroot HCs you would like to share? 👀👉👈

OH BOY DO I

headcanon №1: Movie nights.

Image that Bushroot has huge collection of cassettes with all sorts of classic films that he likes to watch with Spike and other plants on his free time (which he doesn't get that often with the whole criming stuff and constant responsibility for taking care of his plant companions). Since most of the greenhouse inhabitants spend all their lifes inside their cultivated habitation and aren't able to see the world beyond its walls, Bushroot tries to compensate it by showing them all sorts of movies, series, documentaries etc. He even has a little area with TV, video player and cabinets with shelves full of the said cassettes to keep them all entertainment.

A special love of such ways of time spending remained with him from the time of his “former life.” When he felt especially lonely, he loved to watch various films, be it comedies, dramas or romantic films (last ones still having a special place in his heart), didn't matter as long as it helped him take his mind off things.

Ussually this whole thing is like a "family movie night", but Bushroot sometimes makes exepcions and let's them watch anything they want when he has "guests" (like members of fearsome five), cause the plant life of greenhouse can get TOO exited when outsiders visit, which can lead to them distracting everybody with their "curiosity". And so it's a deal of free TV time and at least an hour of behaving.

One time however when Bud was around to discuss their next heist, the plants started to argue about what they shall watch and it led to a stir. It got a bit too loud and Bushroot had to deal with it himself. That's when Liquidator got curious and snuck in to see what the whole fuss was about.

Long story short, Liquidator got interested in a couple of films that he had noticed, and overall surprised that Bushroot was interested in something other than gardening and unsuccessful attempts to improve his love life, so he asked him abour it and the dialog just began by itself. It was quite awkward at first, since those two weren't close at all at the time and almost never talked about anything other that crime planning. But they quickly warmed up to the new "unusual" atmosphere of it all and from then on more and more often raised other topics of conversations/discussions: films, music, business, even fashion. This was something offbeat, but quite pleasant, a change in their “working relationship”, which soon turned into a friendly, closer one. In a world where you don't have many people you can trust, having someone like each other was a breath of fresh air for both of them, no wonder they became close quickly.

During one of their heart-to-heart conversation, Liquidator noticed that Reggie was "spending too much time in the greenhouse recently" and was definitely in the need of some fresh air. They went for a walk late at night in their disguises, but were still recognized by a couple of police officers. They ran into the first building they came across, which turned out to be movie theater, where they decided to wait until the policemen left, but quickly got distracted by watching a random film that was showen on screen at the time they got inside and began to comment it while watching (mostly about how awful it was (was movie actually bad or it was just a lack of context understanding, since they started watching it from the middle? Doesn't matter, they had FUN shittalking it!)).

It definitely left a pleasant impression, that led to a new “tradition” between them randomly going into movie theaters on their free time (mostly late at night to reduce the chances of being recognized), (they sometimes invite other fearsome five members with them, but it's mostly just the two of them enjoying their best life and having hella fun together).

headcanon №2: The first one of them who made a major impact in their newly established relationship and Bud himself was Bushroot.

In one of their many conversations Bud briefly mentioned the company of other salesman who greatly annoyed our water villain, as he represented serious competition in the market. But Liquidator did not have a worthy plan in mind at that time to eliminate him, which would not draw attention to him as the most obvious suspect who would benefit from such an outcome. That's why Bushroot took it upon himself to create a solution, since it was getting closer to the date of Bud's b day and would make quiet a nice gift.

So, a few experiments + some successful mutation achievements + supply shipment manipulations and boom! By the time it's Liquidator's big day the news are loudly announcing the collapse of that said salesman company, whose bottles of water began to bloom with mutated eichhornia crassipes right on store shelves, attacking customers and creating CHAOS throughout the city.

Would be a lie to say Liquidator wasn't pretty damn impressed and happy. That day they spent together, gloating, celebrating and overall just having fun while people's careers collapsed.

Bushroot showed many signs of responsible and reverent attitude towards the desires and interests of his partner when it came to presents or gifts before (wasn't easy, but he worked hard on himself in order to correct the mistakes of his past “romances”), but that day was the day Bud's vision of their relationship "changed".

Mostly because before Reginald Bud obviously had other romantic relationshis, but the dynamic he had with his exes is something completely different from the one he has now, in a way he actually wants to do something for his man genuinely.

When he did something for others he did it "automatically", thanks to his observation skills and intelligence he was always able to understand what people around him wanted to see/hear/receive, what they needed and what actions he should make to win them over and make the desired impression on them. No real feelings stood behind it in the time.

But now? When it comes to Bushroot, who showed him so much attention, understanding, love and support; when Liquidator sees that Reggie does all this just to make Bud happy?

Now he has more sincere motives and doesn't want any of his previous dispassionate attitude towards partners affect the one he really cares about.

The whole thing is too different in a good way, too dear to him to lose and so he tries his very best to put as much love and affection to any aspect of it as possible.

headcanon №3: Bushroot is aware of all Bud's hideouts, so if you want to find Liquidator it'll be easier and faster to find his bf first (quit small one compare to the previous two lol);

headcanon №4: 90's Bushroot loves being carried by his Luquidator because of tactility, reboot Bushroot loves being carried by his Luquidator because of touch-starvation.

90's one doesn't have that problem, since he is always surrounded by his plant-buddies, spike and members of fearsome four (even Dr. Fossil I'm sure won't be agains a hug or two from bis bestie). But reboot Reginald looked so lonely in "Let's Get Dangerous" episode, they didn't gave him any plant minions or Spike, not to mention the whole mood of the ff team that was a bit awkward (?), there was no real feeling that these idiots had been working together for years. They barely interacted with one another! (I mean, come one, Megavolt and Quackerjack are the killer duo of the original series and yet didn't get ANY interaction, they say nothing to each other and that alone shows much T -T).

So yeah, with such "formal" relationship with his team mates and the lack of friends in general (+ his appearance that definitely scares most people away) I imagine he feels kinda f-cked up.

If he and Liquidator start dating at some point he would crave even the smallest physical intimacy he can get. Is it good? Is it bad? Can't tell, who knows what plans my brain has for reboot Liquiroot.

(speaking of appearance and "loves being carried", reboot Bushroot does have a not so healthy look + the way he now needs a "support" tail like vines structure to hold his lower body, I think it's fair to assume it's hard for him to move around in general. So our man will need someone to carry him around after the exhausting fights, bride style, no real effort needed - be real, dude looks thinner than a toothpick).

[laurrelise]

me when i meet someone for the first time and i want to say:

“have you ever watched the umbrella academy? it’s a great show, you really should. it’s about a dysfunctional family of childhood superheroes who underwent serious trauma from their emotionally absent father and grow up to be insanely dynamic and interesting individuals who have to save the world but just keep failing over and over. my favorite character is five, a 58 year-old man in the body of his 13 year-old self who can teleport and time travel but got it wrong the first time and had to survive for over 40 years as the last living human in an apocalyptic wasteland before being recruited by an organization that exists outside of time that keeps the space-time continuum in harmony with itself to become the most lethal assassin known to man for not only his learned talents but also his superhuman abilities. he cares about his family more than anything and sacrificed just about everything he’s ever had to save them time and time again to go under-appreciated by everyone around him. he has a witty charm to him, but just about zero social skills due to several decades which he spent alone but is so extremely smart that at times it’s even difficult to conceptualize just what spending time inside his brain would entail. i find his character so complex and interesting that i’m sure if motivated, i could write several essays on each of his arcs, virtues, and traits. the show is also very loved, especially by myself, due to its beautifully selected soundtrack with some of my favorite songs and such beautiful vocals from artists all throughout time including some of the cast members from the show itself. i especially love ‘stormy weather’ covered and recorded by emmy raver-lampman, featured in season one episode eight, as her character, allison hargreeves, drives through a rainstorm to help save her sister while she thinks about how her entire life has been a lie due to the curse that her abilities inevitably cast upon her. the song gives me chills every time i hear it, from its beautiful vintage-string sound to emmy’s phenomenal vocals, it’s truly an underrated classic that i believe should be talked about so much more. i also love ‘stay with me’, covered and recorded by mary j. blige, also featured in season one episode eight, as her character cha-cha, a ruthless time-traveling hitwoman, seeks unfair revenge on her work partner who chose humanity to go live out his last days with the love of his life. both of these songs push the limits of the musical talent and power these women hold. i could truly go on about the show for hours, but i absolutely can’t recommend it enough. the first two seasons are some of my favorite pieces of film i’ve ever had the pleasure of enjoying, as even though the show isn’t artistically-shot or critically acclaimed, it’s so well-written, produced, and acted that it creates a spark of excitement deep within me that my words simply can’t describe.”

… but i have to say “hi, i’m lauren. nice to meet you.”