#ROODE: REPLIES

[gcholdtrops]

       something  so  enticing  in  the  way  femme  managed  to  make  him  so  easily  filled  with  desire,  wishing  to  pause  anything  he’d  be  possibly  occupied  with  to  simply  give  all  his  focus  to  the  femme  —-  however,  lives  on  the  risk  if  he  didn't  pool  primary  focus  to  the  road  they  were  driving  on.  yet,  multi  tasking  came  in  handy  in  situations  like  these.  a  sigh  emits  at  the  friction  her  nimble  fingers  gave  to  his  clothed  groin,  own  slender  digits  finally  also  running  along  dampened  panties,  circular  motions  in  a  painful  slow  pace  to  simply  return  the  favor  of  how  painful  she  was  making  this  experience  for  him;  prominent  how  hard  he  was  in  this  moment  and  yet,  with  nowhere  to  pull  aside  to.

       her  voice  sent  chills  down  his  spine  in  that  very  moment.   "  i  know  you  are  ~  which  only  makes  this  harder  for  me.  "   breath  is  heavy  as  his  hand  is  removed  and  from  the  corner  of  his  eyes  watches  black  laced  panties  being  presented,  pearly  whites  biting  harshly  onto  his  bottom  lip  as  he  adjust  himself  in  his  seat  —-  simply  too  uncomfortable  wearing  his  pants  right  now.   "  so  cruel  of  you,  baby  girl.  "   and  the  glint  in  her  eyes  only  verified  that  she  was  having  fun  with  this,  having  the  upper  hand  on  him.  however,  strong  hand  reached  back  down  to  its  proper  place,  urging  her  legs  apart  with  a  grip  on  her  thigh  before  returning  to  massaging  the  bundle  of  nerves  he  knew  would  drive  her  insane;  switching  down  to  rub  along  her  entrance  as  well.   "  always  dripping  so  much  for  me,  aren't  you  ?  "   pleasuring  sooji  was  enough  to  take  his  mind  off  of  his  own  confined  erection.

a devil-licked smile lifts upon noting his reactions, how she can tell he wants to pull over so this little teasing of hers can be put to an end. she'd like that, too, the backseat is looking so inviting ---- but this is enjoyable once in a while. having all the control while watching him squirm under her touch. she's rubbing his dick through the boxers, sneaking her fingers in through the zipper for a better angle and at the same time shifting in her seat to give him easier access to her. getting her wet isn't hard, not when it's eunwoo and his god-like fingers that do magic in minutes; she'd already curl her toes if they weren't tucked in tight red heels.

"i know you do, daddy .." she leans in with a whisper, letting her tongue wander around his neck and up his jaw to meet his ear, licking along. "but you'll just have to wait .... i'm already wet just thinking about it." she's sure he can feel it with his fingers --- pulling back for a moment and retrieving her hands, sooji pulls down her panties ( black lace ), holding them up. "see ?"

[thefastestaround]

I'm not playing nurse for you after this fight

Pietro bit his lip a little, just imagining Deb in a sexy nurse outfit. "What were you saying? Oh right, you won't have to since I'm going to win, Flacără mică."

[fluentmoviequoter]

As One

Venom!Jason Todd (tiny hint of x reader at the very end, past the double break)

Inspired by this incredible, amazing, breathtaking Jason as Venom art by @ciricearts!!

Summary: Jason receives more than life in the Lazarus Pit, and when he returns to Gotham and meets Venom, they must learn to fight as one.

Warnings: angst, brief suicide ideation/threat, minimal spoilers for Under the Rood Hood and Venom, fluff, banter, translations in double parentheses

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

It’s quiet, but not silent. Dark, but not black. Something like floating, but there’s a weight settling deep inside.

Jason’s eyes snap open, burning against the phosphorous-green liquid surrounding him. His lungs burn as his hands break the surface. Gasping as he rises, Jason has only one thing on his mind: revenge. His mind races, his head spinning with thoughts of what was, what will be, and untraceable ideas that are in no way his. With the weight in his chest, a storm has settled in his mind, a fierce tempest that throws the new world off its axis as Jason thinks of Gotham.

Twenty-Four Hours Earlier

Jason closes his eyes as the bomb ticks down. High above the warehouse, a shooting star draws the attention of children. As the alien disguised as a star crash lands, it braces itself against the fiery descent in what is left of its ship. Earth is a target, but as the heat and the wind race by, Venom is unconvinced that this is the perfect planet for his people to inhabit. It’s loud and hot, and so far, the view isn’t even all that nice. It’s a snowy night, so the world is white, and war echoes through the night. A lone explosion makes Venom shriek, but when he finally lands on a mountain, a pool of liquid reminiscent of his home beckons him closer.

Present

Jason refuses to look down as he dresses. He stole clothes from a drying line, but the scars on his skin are hideous, jagged lines that will take him back to the warehouse with the Joker if his gaze lingers too long. While he prepares to find his way across continents to locate Batman and the Joker, Jason doesn’t even try to control his thoughts. The pit that brought him back to life has caused his thoughts to be disjointed, bringing memories to the forefront when he least expects it. There’s something wrong, a presence in Jason’s mind that he knows isn’t his, even after the unexpected changes brought on by his resurrection.

“Ho bisogno di un trasporto per la Francia,” Jason tells a fisherman on the coast of Italy. ((I need transport to France.))

“Solo pesce. Non sei un pesce,” the old man replies. ((Only fish. You’re not a fish.))

Jason understands the man, but Bruce’s foreign languages will only get him so far. Without thinking, he adds, “Forse sono un pesce. O forse sono un mostro.” ((Maybe I’m a fish. Or maybe I’m a monster.))

Jason blinks, and suddenly, he’s on the fishing boat in the Tyrrhenian Sea. He doesn’t remember boarding or convincing the fisherman to agree to give him passage. When he looks over his shoulder and sees the man shrink away from him, Jason knows that the pit changed more than his height and the beating of his heart. There’s a war inside him, and Jason has no idea he is losing.

“Portatelo in America,” the fisherman tells another man at the docks in Spain. “Sii veloce, stai attento.” ((Bring him to America... Be quick, be careful.))

The Spanish man shrugs, unable to understand the warning.

“Tráelo a Estados Unidos. Sea rápido, tenga cuidado,” Jason translates. “Deberías escuchar.” ((You should listen.))

“¿De dónde eres, hijo?” the Spanish sailor inquires. ((Where are you from, son?))

“Soy de Gotham,” Jason responds. “¿Puedes ayudarme e llegar allí o debería hacerte llegar?” ((I’m from Gotham… Are you going to help me get there or should I make you?))

“Yo te ayudaré. Pero mantén al demonio adentro.” ((I’ll help. But keep the demon inside.))

Jason boards the ship to return to America, unaware that his funeral is over, the dirt still settling over his coffin. As he keeps his eyes on the horizon, Jason flexes his hands beneath his stolen gloves and wonders if it’s possible to keep the demon inside or if he’s let it stay too long. Maybe the pit finally broke its cage, he thinks.

Earth isn’t quite as hideous as Venom expected. The ocean sparkles beneath the sun as he travels around the globe. Humans are exactly as he had been taught, and Venom observes them, waiting for the right time to begin the takeover. It starts with a single body, and he is sure he’s found the perfect one.

So many languages, Venom grumbles to himself. He knows them, and understands them, but looks forward to a future where there is only one type of communication on this planet.

“New customer?” Jason asks, stepping out of the shadows and into the dark Gotham night.

“Who are you s’posed to be?” the drug dealer replies. “Don’t tell me you’re another cosplay freak!”

“Sixteen,” Jason says, his voice muffled by the tin helmet he created for himself.

“What?”

“Sixteen years old. That’s how old the boy you just sold to is. If there’s one thing I can’t tolerate, it’s selling to children.”

“Oh, so you’re some kinda Robin Hood?”

“Not exactly.” Jason pulls a blade from his left hip, twisting it as he raises it so it glints in the moonlight. “You work for Sionis?”

“Yeah! That means I’m protected!” the man yells, stepping back.

“You don’t look very safe to me. You’re just one of eight.”

“You’re crazy, man.”

Jason smiles beneath the red helmet. As he lunges forward, he feels something shift inside him but ignores it as crimson blood spills beneath his blade. One down.

Leaving Black Mask’s hideout, Jason presses his hand to his shoulder. One of Mask’s goons got in a lucky hit; pure chance allowed him to pull the trigger at the precise moment the barrel lined up with Jason’s side. When Jason pulls his hand away, his glove is spotless.

“I shouldn’t have walked away from that,” Jason admits under his breath.

He’s ignored it since he fought his way out of the pit. The signs have chased him through hemispheres, but it took until tonight to understand that something is wrong. No, Jason realizes, there is someone in his mind.

As Robin, Bruce taught Jason that there were metahumans, homo sapiens with unnatural powers, and some of them could get into his mind if he gave them a chance. Now, it seems that one of these powered creatures is invading Jason’s life and, for some reason, protecting him.

Jason pulls his pistol from his side, presses it beneath his chin, and removes the safety.

“Last chance,” he murmurs.

His finger slides onto the trigger, and then the gun clatters to the ground as Jason is enveloped in an inky black substance.

“Stupidity,” its voice growls.

Jason can see, but his movements are limited. In the reflection of a window in the alley, he sees the creature looking back at him.

“You’d travel 4,400 miles to kill that clown only to finish what he started?!”

“Who are you?” Jason asks carefully.

The alien melts away and disappears into Jason’s skin without an answer. Jason looks around, trying to understand what, who, and where it is.

“You’re inside me,” he realizes aloud.

“Not much company in here,” the voice says in his mind. “Your plan for vengeance is pointless.”

Jason retrieves his gun from the pavement and repeats, “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” the voice echoes before silencing.

“Great,” Jason grumbles. “Unless you’ve got anything useful, stay in there.”

“It won’t work,” the alien in Jason’s mind argues.

Jason adjusts his grip on the gargoyle and tries to ignore it.

“You need help,” he adds. “Storm in too early and he’ll kill you… again.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay quiet?” Jason snaps.

“You can’t get rid of me. And you can’t get rid of him like this, either.”

“You’ll understand if I don’t trust you.”

Several moments pass in silence until the alien says, “Venom.”

“Won’t work.”

“I am Venom.”

Jason’s brows pinch, and then he murmurs, “Jason.”

“I know.”

After a long sigh, Jason asks, “What do you suggest I do? To kill the Joker?”

“Stop being stupid.”

“Forget I asked.”

“He has more at his disposal.”

“So, what? I need a utility belt?”

“Let me do it.”

Jason launches off the roof, noting that Venom falls silent as he freefalls through the Gotham sky.

Only after Jason uses a grappling hook to land on solid ground in an alley does Venom's head appear before him. Jason jerks backward, then pulls his weapon and shoots Venom until his magazine is empty. Venom draws himself together, living tendrils reshaping into his previous form.

“You can’t kill me, Jason,” Venom growls. “Not without killing yourself, and I need you.”

“You need me?” Jason repeats incredulously. “No, there is no we here, alien.”

“Oh, don’t hurt my feelings,” Venom deadpans. “I only need your body. Give me one more excuse and I’ll send your mind back to that glow-stick pool you crawled out of.”

“If you don’t need me, why did you save me that night with the dealers?”

Venom disappears, returning to Jason’s mind. As he takes over Jason’s thoughts one by one, he begins to plan how he’ll use a capable body like his to aid his leaders’ invasion plan. Jason, however, feels his mind clearing with each moment Venom is gone. Each thought that Venom takes over weakens the storm in Jason’s mind.

“What did you do?” Jason asks.

“It’s the beginning,” Venom replies cryptically.

Jason remembers the silence Venom fell into during the fall and smiles before he shoots his grappling hook straight up, weightless as he soars above Gotham with a clear head and the first step of a plan to not only kill the Joker but show Bruce why he should have done it before.

“Bruce,” Dick calls. “You have to take a break. Yes, we know that Red Hood is causing issues, and there’s a giant black alien terrorizing people. What do you expect to do about it?”

“Find them both,” Bruce answers without looking up. “Stop them both.”

“That was the stupidest-“

“Stop,” Venom interrupts. “I saved a life, you didn’t kill anyone, we’re good.”

“We’re good? You did it in front of Nightwing! Dick will tell Bruce and Batman will hunt us down before the plan is in place.”

“Todd,” Venom begins, “that’s not my problem.”

“It will be when he finds a way to debilitate you and your little plan to take over the world goes up in flames!”

Venom’s head moves back nearly imperceptibly, but Jason moves forward to continue, “Yeah, you’re in my head, too, so I know your plan. It’s not my priority right now but know that all of your weaknesses are clear. So, if you don’t help me, Batman will stop you.”

“And if I do help?”

“We both survive to fight another day.”

“One condition.”

“I’m not feeding you another drug dealer.”

“Buzzkill,” Venom growls. He encompasses Jason’s body and folds a nearby dumpster before agreeing, “Fine, yeah. But I want to go to the new bakery.”

“Deal,” Jason replies. “Now go away.”

Jason travels through the shadows of Gotham to get to his hideout. He isn’t followed - he makes sure of it - and as Jason strips out of his leather jacket and carefully crafted helmet, he looks into a mirror for the first time since his death.

Jason inhales as he raises his eyes to trace the map of scars, the autopsy marks he was sure would have survived his dip in the Lazarus Pit, and the childhood shadows of scraped knees and skinned elbows. Yet, his skin is smooth and blemish-free when his eyes meet his reflection. It’s all wrong, Jason thinks. There isn’t a single mark, not from his childhood, time as Robin, death, resurrection, or the endless battle he’s fought since returning.

“You’re welcome,” Venom says from inside Jason.

“Why?” Jason whispers.

“I could have killed you,” Venom states. “But we achieved symbiosis, and you need my help more than I need yours.”

“I don’t-“

“It’s easier this way. The scarred boy didn’t come back, you did, Hood.”

Jason turns away from the mirror to pull a shirt over his head. “We finish this, and then I’m going to kill you, parasite. These people may not like me, but this is still my home.”

“Parasite!?” Venom screeches.

“I’ve got a meeting with Batman, you stay quiet,” Jason says as he exits the warehouse.

“You haven’t lost your touch, Bruce,” Jason calls as he dodges a punch.

Bruce’s surprise gives Jason the perfect opening. He spins on his left foot, planting his right foot against Bruce’s chest and sending him backward.

Standing over Batman with his gun aimed at Bruce’s throat, Jason says, “We need to talk about the Joker.”

“He’s the least of our concerns, Jason,” Dick says, tapping his escrima sticks. “But we do need to talk.”

“Thanks, J’onn,” Bruce mutters before ending the intergalactic call on the batcomputer.

“Well?” Dick inquires.

“The alien parasites on Mars are killing their hosts,” Bruce explains, turning toward Jason.

“Are they… are they the same species as the thing in Gotham?”

Jason ignores Venom’s complaints at being called a thing as he remembers what Venom said about being able to kill him.

“Killing their hosts?” Jason repeats. Venom doesn’t make any argument against this, and Jason clenches his fists at his side.

“We need to find the one in Gotham,” Bruce says. “Get some answers.”

“Can you help, Jay?” Dick asks.

“Later,” Jason mumbles. “I have something to do first.”

Bruce nods, and Jason stalks out of the Batcave.

“That went well,” Venom says as they exit Wayne Manor. “He told you he can’t kill Joker and yet you stayed. Brave-“

“Are you killing me?” Jason demands. “No more jokes, no sarcastic little comment, tell me now, are you killing me?”

“I was,” Venom admits, extending from Jason’s shoulder. “I reversed the damage.”

“Why?! Why would you start something, then save my life just to kill me later?”

“You are the only human I’ve ever matched with.”

“That’s sweet,” Jason snaps. “But get out of my way. Go back to whatever corner of my mind you’ve stolen.”

“You can still trust me, Jason. This doesn’t change anything.”

“Hood!” Nightwing warns as Killer Croc turns toward Jason.

“What, Croc, did they miss feeding time again?” Jason taunts.

Killer Croc roars, then swipes his arm toward Jason, his claws catching on Jason’s leather jacket. As Jason moves back, Killer Croc swings his arm again, pinning Jason to the brick wall.

“Venom,” Jason says through gritted teeth, failing to push Croc away from him. “Now might be a good time to prove I can still trust you.”

“Oh, me?” Venom asks in Jason’s mind. “You want my help?”

“Venom!”

“But what if I kill you by saving you from those bullets?”

Killer Croc shifts his weight, and Jason’s ribs creak under the increased pressure. He asks Venom once more for help, and just before his vision blackens around the edges, Venom’s powerful tendrils extend from Jason’s torso and push the creature’s scaly arms backward.

“Thanks,” Jason pants, catching himself as he falls to the sidewalk. “Argue with me again and I’ll put a bullet in you.”

“I’ve seen your aim, I’m not concerned,” Venom bites back before turning his attention to the Arkham patients roaming the streets.

“Pull back,” Bruce demands through the communications system.

“We’ve got them,” Jason argues.

“Pull back!”

“But, B,” Dick tries.

“The aliens are moving toward Earth!” Bruce yells. “J’onn just sent out a red alert.”

“We can’t do both,” Venom reminds Jason.

Jason hesitates, then says, “Yes, we can. You like Earth, admit it. And you don’t want to be alone now that you’ve achieved symbiosis. If we work together, we can do both. But if you go back to your kind and take my planet… I will kill you even if it kills me too, V.”

Venom’s inky substance snakes around Jason’s arm, covers half his face like a mask, and obscures the bat on his chest.

“We’d have to fight as one,” Venom points out.

Jason and Venom disappear as one into the shadows before Bruce realizes he’s moved.

The door to Roman Sionis’s office breaks in half, sending splinters flying as the Black Mask rises from his chair.

“What are you supposed to be?” Roman asks, eyeing the black tendrils around Red Hood’s already imposing frame.

“I’m Red Hood,” Jason replies as Venom growls, “We are Venom.”

Their voices overlap, so Roman hears, “We ‘m Venom Hood.”

“Well, Venom Hood,” Roman begins, moving backward from his desk.

That makes no sense, Jason thinks.

Shut up, Venom demands, you died.

Jason prepares to retort, but Roman lifts an automatic rifle that causes Jason to delay the argument as he rolls out of Black Mask’s line of sight.

“I have to save the world-“ Jason says, nodding to himself as he corrects, “we have to save the world, so I’m going to have to keep this short. You’ll miss Gotham where you’re going.”

Venom pulls the trigger, and though Jason knows he’s trying to keep him from getting more blood on his hands, the world's fate hangs in the balance, and there is no time for either of them to make penance for the sins.

“Where are we going?” Jason asks as he enters the Batcave. He’s changed from his uniform, wearing a red hoodie instead of the armor he’s grown comfortable in. It makes me claustrophobic, Venom had argued.

“The watchtower,” Bruce answers. “Boom tubing now.”

“Where’d you go?” Dick asks.

“To see a friend.”

“Batman,” Superman greets as they enter the watchtower. He glances at Jason and asks, “Who is that?”

Jason waves, his red mask concealing the bottom half of his face. “Red Hood, Venom Hood, I’ve got a lot of names.”

“He’s with us,” Nightwing assures the Justice League.

“About that,” Jason interjects. “These… aliens, parasites, whatever you want to call them. They’re trying to take over the planet-“

“We know that,” Martian Manhunter interrupts.

“One of them is not,” Jason continues.

“How do you know?” Wonder Woman inquires.

“Perimeter breach,” the automated ship alerts.

“Nobody shoot me,” Jason demands. He tilts his head, then says, “The red ones are stronger, they’re leaders, if we get them down first, the rest… we can handle the rest then.”

“How did you become an expert on them faster than Bruce?” Dick whispers.

“Remember my worth in twenty minutes.”

The alien ship ports on the side of the watchtower, and within minutes, the aliens are moving throughout the ship without pattern or reason.

“Fire and noise,” Venom tells Jason. “Keep it away from me, but it weakens them.”

“Are you stronger?” Jason asks internally.

“Stronger than some,” Venom replies. “Why?”

“Come out.”

“No.”

“V… we need you.”

Venom sighs, then says, “I don’t like red.”

“Deal with it.”

Venom does just that, ripping the red sweatshirt in half as he encompasses Jason. Several members of the Justice League turn toward Venom, so he quickly pulls back. Venom separates fluidly, exposing half of Jason’s face and most of his torso. Jason feels Venom moving across his biceps and chest, and Venom moves his fingers by controlling Jason’s joints. Venom fits against Jason like a second skin, like a suit, highlighting his muscles and causing Jason to look more like the monster people have come to expect.

“He’s with me!” Jason yells, stepping toward Superman. “I told you one of them was on your side. It’s him. Focus on the fight!”

Another group of aliens seeps through the air vent, and the horrified leaguers work to save the planet with an enemy at their sides.

Jason stretches his neck to the side as Venom recedes into his back. The superheroes before him suddenly have excuses to disappear, leaving the watchtower as quickly as they can, while Bruce and Dick watch Jason as if he’ll explode.

“I should have known,” Bruce murmurs as he removes his cowl.

“Can I meet him?” Dick asks. “What’s his name?”

He’s too happy, Venom complains. And you promised a trip to the bakery!

“Later,” Jason tells Dick. “And his name is Venom,” he adds over his shoulder as he walks toward a boom tube platform.

Venom’s head bounces against Jason’s shoulder as they walk down the dark alley behind the coffee shop. Slurping as he drinks the blended coffee in Jason’s hand, Venom smiles.

“You should go see her,” he says after licking powdered sugar from his lips. “The girl you think about, who you should have kissed before Bosnia, but you chickened out.”

Jason hums and twirls the cup in his hand but hesitates to drink after his body companion. “I think my chances are gone… with any woman, thanks to you,” he responds.

“I could get into her mind and let you know for sure,” Venom offers.

“That won’t be necessary, thanks.”

Venom pulls Jason to a sudden stop, spreads over Jason’s arm, and pulls him onto a fire escape to reach the roof. He inhales deeply, then looks up and down the nearby roads.

“It’s Gotham, not all of earth smells like this,” Jason mumbles.

“No,” Venom replies. “There is another of my kind.”

“Great.”

Venom watches in silence, allowing Jason to text his brother and offer some explanations.

Jason.

“Venom,” Jason replies aloud as he sends another message.

Venom snaps Jason’s head up, and they both watch, mesmerized by how your hair falls back into place as the blood-red amorphous protoplasm melts into your skin. When you look up after landing on the roof, as directed by your symbiote, you smile at Jason Todd.

We’re in trouble.

Jason nods, and Venom insists, No, actual trouble.

Ex of yours? Jason wonders.

I wish. She kicked my-

[thunderblessedhero-old]

———

[Attached: A short clip of N and Blake at the birthday party. Fairy lights are strung up in what looks like a small backyard, and there’s soft, pleasant music playing from a small radio. You can notice some familiar guests moving about the tables of food in the background- Cheren, Alder, Bianca, Anthea, Concordia, to name a few- as well as Sage Rood and a few individuals who are likely ex-Plasma grunts. At one point you catch August and Hugh running by, chasing after a familiar little Zorua carrying a hotdog in its mouth.

Blake and N are swaying together along to the music, underneath the warm glow of the fairy lights that paints both their forms gold. Blake is wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts, and N has on a silky black dress with a ribbon tied around the waist. Their conversation is a little drowned out by the sound of the music and the guests chatting over each other, but you manage to pick up a little of what they’re saying.

“Does the dress fit okay?” Blake asks.

“Yeah-” N pauses to look down at his outfit, seeming to admire it for a moment before returning his eyes to his partner. “You said you helped pick it out? Is that why you were checking your phone so much earlier?”

“Yep,” Blake replies with a bit of a sheepish grin and a shrug. “Your sisters ran over to the local thrift store right after we left. I knew you’d been wanting your own dress for a while, so…”

He smiles down fondly at them, before reaching a hand up to cup their cheek. “I love it, strawberry. It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad,” Blake’s smile grows, and their face turns a few shades warmer as they clear their throat. “You- you look beautiful in it.”

The two giggle at their own cheesiness for a few seconds, before continuing their relaxed sway. After a while, though, a contemplative look crosses N’s face and his eyes drift to the ground. “Sorry I, um… earlier…”

Immediately knowing what he was talking about, Blake simply sighs through their nose and gives him an understanding nod. “Hey, it’s okay- nothin’ to be sorry for. I know this is all so… new. For both of us, and- especially you.”

“I think I… kinda get too caught up in trying to be a good partner sometimes,” they admit. “-that I might come off a bit… overbearing? After everything we’ve been through together, I just really want you to feel happy and comfortable around me- I don’t want you to still feel guilty about the last two years. But I… I know firsthand those feelings don’t just go away overnight, so… if I ever come off as too much or overstep any of your boundaries, don’t be afraid to let me know, okay?”

“I know,” N assures them, running his thumb along the back of their hand. “I actually really enjoyed today, honest. Just still… fighting back those feelings of hesitance and self doubt all the time. I don’t mean to make you feel like you’re not doing enough- like you said, this is all still so new… But I do appreciate everything you do for me. Truly.”

Blake chuckles, before resting their head against his chest, finding comfort in the sound of his heartbeat. N leans into to affection, one arm winding around their waist and the other still holding their hand.

“You know what?” Blake murmurs. “I’m really glad you’re the one I get to go on this little journey with. No matter how messy it gets sometimes. I’ll fight off a million angry, lettuce-hungry Swanna if it means I get to be by your side through it all,”

N hums in agreement, holding them closer with a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. “You know it was my bird call that made that Swanna back off, right?”

“Okay yeah, but I helped.”

“Sure you did,” N chuckles, before tilting their chin up to press a kiss to their lips. It’s short and sweet, and as they pull away the two heroes of Unova look at each other like they’re the only ones in the world right now.

“…I love you.” N whispers after a moment, resting his forehead against theirs.

“I love you too.”

End video.]

———

[ashton-ryder]

Ash offered Beau a small smile to his assurance of the good the bad and the ugly with Ashton. He's tried to keep all the bad and the ugly away from people as much as he could. But knew Beau was always genuine with his words, when he says anything, Ash knows he means anything. There was always a comfort in confiding in his close friend, far away removed enough from the whole Sada mess of it all, close enough to trust that he listens, and cares, without judgement. It was a simple smile, complicated in its own right but simple in encapsulating two words, I know. Before he really caved in to the temptation to let go of the guards, letting kind words and the warmth on his back convince him.

"I'm.. trying," taking care of himself was a tall order, knowing he's more useful elsewhere. The garden, the water supply, the runs, the hordes, the raiders, his mind never stops running either. "Well someone said some fresh air and sun would be good for me after the quarantine," Ash couldn't help cut in the nagging with his own joke, cut through with a lightness with a reminder that Beau was the one to invite him up here and see the new garden. He won't be held responsible for getting to work when he sees there's work to be done.

But he lightly shook his head to dismiss the apology, "then aren't we the same? Just can't help but worry all day long." Beau was always the personification of soft, can't even get nagged at by him without him apologizing for it. "Thank you then, for worrying, really." Ash exhaled keeping his gaze down at the soil, Ziggy always called him a superman but he certainly doesn't feel like one. Broken, useless. "I'll try, I just- I wouldn't know what to do with my time. There's so much to do, it's hard to turn it off." And silently he saw it as a solution to finally getting some sleep, work himself to the bone until his body has no choice but to break down and give in to his hopes at slumber.

It caught him off guard off when Beau continued, offering, asking for anything to help him with, Ash was never good with things like this, being asked if there was anything he wanted, anything he needed, his mind always draws a blank. He blinked and let a soft smile do the talking, of thanking him for the gesture, while his mind tried to grasp at something useful. Thinking for himself was hard for Ashton Ryder. His eyes darted around the roof, "um.." dismissing that he didn't need anything felt like a lie and Beau didn't deserve a lie from him. "if-.. could you just, help me look out for Ruth?" his words were slow and cautious, as if afraid to make a request to burden the weight of someone else shoulders. Ash still avoided thinking of a request for himself, but this was close enough, "she just got back and she's already stretched thin. I'd help her out but.. she wouldn't let me, considering this," gesturing to himself and the condition he's in.

for a moment, beau wonders if his friend intends to dismiss the question. there's a silence that lingers between them for a beat after he asks it, but it is starkly dissimilar to the familiar, comfortable quiet that had fallen over them in the midst of their shared task ; no, it's as if ashton is almost hesitant to answer. that, or he's surprised that beau's even asked him at all. maybe both. ( if beau thinks that ash should know him better by now, he doesn't say as much ― even just a lighthearted joke , one made with good intention, feels out of place here as they teeter on the precipice of a potentially vulnerable moment. ) when he lifts his gaze, beau meets it, his own eyes both concerned and imploring. he's not asking to be polite.

in spite of this, ashton starts to answer him and beau can hear it in his voice even when he's not said more than a single word ― the casual dismissal. the only problem is, beau doesn't buy it. not for a second. and, without being pushy, he intends to tell his friend as much. he's not given the chance, though, before ash is trailing off himself, rethinking his answer. beau wipes the soil from his hands and sits back on his heels and gives the other man his undivided attention. ❝ yeah, really, ❞ he says, an encouraging nod tilting his head forward. ❝ c'mon, man, y'know you can talk to me about anythin', right? ❞

there's something about the way he says alive that just doesn't sit quite right with beau, even if in his heart, he knows it's all anyone can well and truly hope for these days. the bar shouldn't be set so low. all the same, when he offers a soft, ❝ well, i'm glad for that, ❞ he means it. he reaches out then, and where he might normally clap his shoulder in a show of support, his friend's injury has his hand hovering awkwardly for a second before it finds his back instead. there's sympathy in his gaze, softening the concern. there it is. the truth behind the instinctive defense ― even if he does try to ease the sting of it with a reassurance.

❝ ya gotta take care of yourself, ash, ❞ beau says. ❝ even if you're not sleepin', you should be tryin' to rest. and look at you, up here workin' on the garden with your one good arm. y'ain't never not doin' somethin', are ya? ❞ he sighs, pulling his hand back and dropping it in his lap, but his gaze remains on ashton. ❝ i'm sorry, i don't mean t'scold ya, i know it ain't my place, it's just ― well, tellin' me not to worry is like tellin' a moth not to fly into a porch light. i ain't fixin' to listen, and i'm gonna do it 'til i'm dizzy. i can't help it. ❞ beau chuckles then, a little self-depricating in his own right. ❝ if there's anythin' i can do for you, brother, anythin' at all, you just say the word. i mean it.❞

[delusinalandpassionate]

if we're talking about don moments we cant stop thinking about, that bit towards the end of canto 2 with the mariachi gang. When don goes to dance but they stop her and mention that her heart is unpure or something. And all the emotion and energy leaves her voice when she replies that she finds that assessment of her disgracious. It hasnt left my head since, like to my knowledge she never speaks like that again, so it drives me crazy. Tell me your secrets Don Quixote, i need them

This moment is kinda hard to stop thinking about, but I have to admit when first played, I missed it because I turned off volume. But then I returned to it and yea what was that Don???

Also fun fact but meaning of her answer differs a bit in English and Korean text. In English she says that task is disgracious, and in Korean she tells to gang memeber who criticized her that they are rood, and that's kinda a significant difference no??

Also it's intresting that she doesn't drop her specific manner of speech at this moment. Mask slips, but not completely???? Don, please give us something, I begging you

[oflostinfound]

@intxlligentminds replied to your post “|| 🖤 ||: ❝ An awful situation but I have to admire...”:

>:c rood

[songsofghetsis]

🕯️RUBYCON🕯️

SONGS OF GHETSIS must go on!

This is about Ruben and Ghetsis. A young boy and a young adult, but it's the latter to be subjugated by the first and his charisma.

A passage of age and a new name are waiting ahead...

The birth of Rood.

📰Missed the other chapters?

🔗 SONGS OF GHETSIS - INDEX

✴️ Prefer AO3?

🔗 RUBYCON (AO3)

🇮🇹 Sei un lettore italiano?

🔗 RUBYCON (EFP)

Otherwise, read the chapter below ⬇️

RUBYCON

Title inspired by the track Rubycon by Tangerine Dream

The rain tapped lightly against the broken, dirt-streaked windows of the abandoned Pokémon Center.

A flickering light barely lit the benches and counter of the building, long since left to rot.

The jagged cries of the gray Cromoròn pierced through the cracks in the bare walls.

The floor was covered in a thin layer of mold, and beneath the overturned vending machine, old Pokéballs lay scattered, cracked or emptied.

Once, lives had been saved here. Now, only the shadows of the Cromoròn, and perhaps a timid Banette or two, remained.

A distant creak, maybe a footstep, or the wail of a door that no longer existed.

“Are you sure this place is safe?”

A boy who looked much older than his twenty-something years sat stiffly on a gutted couch in the center’s lobby.

“What, are you afraid of the Cromoròn?”

The newborn Ghetsis, once Happy, stared at him with an unreadable expression. He lay semi-reclined on the central counter, watching the older one from above, eyes half-lidded.

“No... I mean yes... I mean I don’t know. Happy—”

“Don’t call me that.”

The boy’s gaze hardened. For a moment, the sound of the rain seemed to grow louder.

“Alright, alright.” The older boy looked away, as if he’d burned himself petting a wild Growlithe.

“Sometimes you seem like one of those flying things.”

Silence expanded between them like the fog that had ruled outside the center, now replaced, 

though not entirely, by the fine rain.

Ghetsis didn’t reply immediately. Or perhaps he didn’t reply at all, he simply spoke.

“The Cromoròn,” he said, sitting up straight on the greasy counter,

“are Pokémon like any other. The rest is just legend. Fairy tales for people with hollow eyes.”

He stepped down slowly. The squelch of his mud-caked sandals echoed through the foul air of that place forgotten by gods and men.

“But there’s something I like about them.”

He walked toward the overturned vending machine, crouched down, and picked up a cracked Duskball.

“They don’t strike blindly, like frightened Woobat. They calculate. They choose.”

He let the modified Poké Ball fall. It hit the floor with a wet, unpleasant thud.

“Lucky chosen ones. I hope they don’t like me.”

A sharp laugh escaped the older boy, who glanced around nervously.

“I chose,” said Ghetsis. Flat.

“You mean... your name?”

A Banette peeked from the archway leading deeper into the building, then vanished again.

“I mean my path. And you? Are you staying here, staying Ruben?”

Ruben shivered.

“Uh...”

Ghetsis had turned to face him. Despite his young age, his face was already scarred, his missing eye barely covered by a makeshift bandage.

“I followed you into this hellhole, didn’t I? Why would I go back?”

Ghetsis didn’t respond.

Ruben shifted, the sound of fabric scraping against the fake leather of the couch.

“Uh... the name... I don’t know.” He coughed a little. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. I’m no good at this stuff.”

The rain had stopped. A few stars peeked through the grey-black sky.

The cry of a Vulpix echoed in the distance, maybe from a house, maybe from a den it had fled to after escaping careless owners.

The peace didn’t last long. A flash of lightning tore through the horizon. After what seemed like an eternity, thunder followed, making Ruben flinch. Dressed in only a light jacket, he curled into himself, shivering.

Ghetsis walked away, leaving him alone in the cold room for several endless seconds. Then he returned from the storage room with an old, moldy blanket, still usable. He stared at it for a moment, as if weighing his options, then tossed it to the older boy.

Ruben looked at him, unsure whether it was an act of kindness or something else entirely.

“I don’t want you getting sick,” the younger one muttered, almost annoyed, like Ruben’s suffering had been an entertainment he was now forced to end for practical reasons.

“Thanks,” came the quiet reply, as if the word itself was forbidden.

“Don’t thank me,” Ghetsis warned him. “We’re not friends.”

Another flash tore through the sky, closer this time. The building trembled, as if remembering something it wished to forget.

“Then what are we?”

Ghetsis didn’t answer right away. Then, in a flat tone:

“Fragments. Remnants. Pieces that might still be useful. Or end up in the trash.”

The silence grew heavy.

“...Okay.”

—

Night had long since fallen. The rain had returned, now hammering at the windows, more insistent in seeping through the cracks in the walls and the shattered glass.

Occasional lightning flashes painted the room in ghostly light.

The Cromoròn had taken shelter inside the Pokémon Center, but kept their distance from the boys, much to Ruben’s relief, as he huddled on the couch, sinking deeper into its exposed springs.

Ghetsis sat in a metal chair, legs crossed, silently whittling a piece of wood he’d found under the counter.

His movements were mechanical, repetitive, using a small Swiss knife he had stolen from his father before running away.

The older boy stood, his tall, lanky figure casting jagged shadows along the abandoned walls. His shoulders drooped under the weight of the blanket and the mold, making him look like a poverty-stricken superhero, or a junkie’s ghost.

He walked over to his companion. Each step squelched on the crusty floor.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he murmured, cautiously. “About the name.”

Ghetsis looked up.

“So? Have you decided?”

“I... don’t know. I don’t want to choose it myself. I told you, I’m not good at this stuff.”

The rain showed no sign of giving way to the night.

“You want me to do it.”

Ruben didn’t reply. Not right away. He glanced around. Two Cromoròn stared at him from the corner of the room, behind a pile of poorly stacked stretchers. He lowered his gaze, then turned again to Ghetsis.

“Why Ghetsis, anyway? It’s a weird name.”

The younger boy’s gaze returned to the sharpened, worn wood.

Another bolt of lightning split the air, followed by thunder like a faithful Lillipup trailing its master.

“On your knees.” Ghetsis straightened in the chair, solemn.

“What?”

“On your knees, I said. Before me.”

Ruben obeyed.

“Good.”

Ghetsis placed a hand on his head, as if enacting an ancient ritual that had never existed.

“Ruben is dead now.”

He looked down from the chair for a moment. Ruben’s red hair danced in the stormy air filtering into the broken shelter.

“From now on, your name is... Rood.”

“Rood? Like rude?”

Ghetsis looked at him as if he was a particularly dense toddler.

“It means red.” He declared.

“Like your hair. Like blood. Like your name.”

The words fell on the kneeling boy’s shoulders like a sentence.

The Cromoròn drew back slightly, perhaps out of boredom, perhaps out of respect.

Rood rose. “Alright,” he said, serious and composed, then returned to his place on the couch.

Ghetsis spoke.

“Welcome to this rotten world, Rood.”

[a-hazbin-spider]

“Right! Hey, no worries Big Guy. I ain’t rushin’ ya. I’m not goin’ nowhere.” That was distasteful he supposed, to make this sound more like a schedule than anything. Not his intention, but, he can see well enough that his questions on his needs in that quick succession could sound immediate. He’d kick himself mentally for that one.

As time progressed, the allowed touch grew more comfortable. Working out knots in Alastor’s shoulders had graduated to caresses and warm comfort over top skin and scarring alike. It wasn’t like he was unfamiliar, hell he’d been adamant to keep up on a ‘flawless’ appearance himself. But, Alastor had seen so much of him now, seen a kind of wound that heals. No doubt he’d spotted his other blemishes too.

However cruel or unfair he might have been on himself in that regard. There’s nothing but kind touch from his fingers over the expanse of his shoulders.

“You want to listen t’me talk about… uh. Okay. I can’t promise it’s interestin’, fair warning. Specially seein’ I been tryina’ go clean.” Almost sounded a bit sheepish, but he was otherwise cooperating.

He isn’t sure when, but somewhere where task turned into tenderness, that secondary set of arms had crept closer and closer to what was now nearly a loose hug, while the rest of touch had all but turned to petting. Even getting familiar enough to occasionally brush back a stray lock of hair. His body close enough to cushion at his back.

“Granted most of my time is spent at work. But I get a lil borin’ sorry t’ say. I get t’ eat more n’ once though, an’ I always use my off time t’ spoil my pig. Nuggets gets walks and if I got tha energy t’ cook I always make ‘em somethin’ special. Otherwise I sew shit together, give my guns regular maintenance, and get to wear comfy clothes. Unless I’m drinkin’ or causin’ a ruckus, I guess I’m turnin’ to a tired ol’ man.” Sounds like he can laugh about that at least.

Fingers find their way over the muscles of his neck and down the shoulders, just running his hands over before, almost as if he were warming the skin underneath. It doesn’t take long at all, to find a little tension to start soothing out, his secondary hands doting over where the shoulder’s joint meets the arm, brushing his thumb over top. It was pretty good Alastor didn’t seem to mind how the massage was going.

Aha. That was a bit of information. Not bad. Not even necessarily a surprise. But it was sating some of his curiosity. As there wasn’t much he knew at all, aside from what was told inside the hotel.

“Yeah? So it’s like a preference. I see.” It probably is a plentiful source. Sinner isn’t exactly a rare or nonrenewable source. But maybe for Alastor it’s no concern. Maybe some of them just had a better taste. He had heard rumor as a human that a person would pretty much be pork. He never cared to try, his cracked skin never tasted great. But then again it often tasted of weaponry. Hm. Alastor made a point he often forgets, that he needs to do that and whatnot. It really baffled him when he first started getting clean why he was so hungry all the time. Turns out that it was normal to have needs more than once in a day.

“Well, good thing that’s tha case. I can get non-contraband ingredients in here way easier than chunks of otha’ sinners. Maybe I could getcha somethin’ to eat if ya needin’?” If he weren’t already a bit awkward, the nurturing thing he had going on would have hit him like a ton of bricks. He forgets just how embarrassing it is to get all soft. “How’s it feel, Al?”

[ryusxnka-moved]

why i don't rp with you----LISTEN IT'S NEVER YOU, IT'S ME AND LIFE BEING A BITCH. I WANNA RP WITH YOU AGAIN AND ALWAYS !!!!

Give me a reason why you DON'T rp with me.

SORRY BOUT LIFE BEING UNFAIRLY ROODE TO YOU!! JUST KNOW THAT I WILL ALWAYS BE WILLING TO RP WITH YOU. I ACTUALLY OWE YOU A REPLY FOR KAKU AND I SCREAM.

[kawaii-night666]

17-Kageyama turns into a kid!

Tobio playing volleyball with Kenji, Akinori, Kiyomi, Tadashi, Yuki, Naoyasu, Tachi and Shigeru while others were jealous but practicing volleyball with each other to get better for tournament. Shigeru and the others were breathing heavily (damn they act old) Tobio look at them tilt his head asked "Are you okay?"

Kenji said "Yeah we fine, but let's have a break yeah." He smiled at Tobio as Tobio nods and goes outside the door to go lay down the grass where the sun shines brightly while Kenji mumble loud for the others to hear "He totally have a good stamina at his age alright."

All of the nod but follow Tobio out as they saw him as they blush at the sight as the sun shine down on him with a glow where all flowers are there surrounding him that makes Tobio looks like a goddess of Aphrodite.

They all thought 'God sure knows how to create this angel. Like damn his cute as a cute and when he be back to normal his hot and handsome.'

They all go sit down where Tobio is as Tobio said "This sure is fun!" Tobio raise his arms up with excitement. Some give small smile or nod in agreement until they hear what Tobio say next "Wish nee-san and Oji-san could come to play as well." Tobio pouts cutely.

Yuki asked "But, what about your parents Kageyama?"

All of them thought it was weird that Tobio never mention about his parents even though he did say that they always working but is there more to it than that.

Tobio sits up and look at Yuki and reply "I don't know, all I know that they always working from what I hear from Oji-san." 

They let out an 'Ahh'

Shigeru said "Well we can come to your place and play with your nee-san and oji-san."

Tobio blue eyes sparkle as they smile at the sight wishing they could capture it on their phones but they will have it in their memory to keep in their minds. Tobio said "Really! I can't wait for that to happen." 

Tadashi remembers the times in Karasuno during our team bonding time, when we talk about our families but Tobio never mention them or feel like we left him hanging, Tadashi understands maybe this is either karma back in middle school or something who knows but he sure and the others will be by Tobio side through thick and thin no matter the obstacle. But Tadashi not the only who will make this promise everyone that Tobio and Karasuno knows will protect Tobio.

All of them were busy with their thoughts they couldn't comprehend that Tobio made flower crown with different flowers on the field that they are sitting, while with the others who are practicing....

"Iwa-chan I want to see Tobio-chan!"

"Shut up shittykawa!"

"Samu, Suna we need to take Tobio-kun."

"Damn you Daishou! Your teammate better not do anything to Kageyama."

"Please shut up Kuroo."

"I want to spend time with Yamayama!"

"Shut up shrimp!"

Back to Tobio

Tobio finishes making flower crown he then place it on top of Tadashi head as Tadashi look up and saw Tobio smiling cutely as he said "There you go, I made you a flower crown!"

Tadashi touch the flower crown that is on his head as he said "Thank you Kageyama."

Tobio did it to the others as they can't help to want to die of cuteness and wanting to take Tobio to their team or home. 

➶➶➶➶➶ //////////////////////////////// ➷➷➷➷➷

Author-san: Hello everyone chapter 17 is here 🤗

Hope u guys enjoy-

Everyone: See u in the next chapter!  

Author-san:....

Rood 😒

Daichi: Anyways everyone log off now, we have practice to go too

Author-san: HEY! 

DON'T U DARE

Everyone logs off  

Author-san: Unbelievable  😤

[antiquorumanimarum]

"Afraid of returning to the star-?" Styx repeated uttered words with a blank tone and a hint of contemplation; he lingered upon the very thought for a smite over a moment, a hum following ere he shakes his head and shrugs idly; "Why would I be afraid? I started as naught, and I shall return to being naught. It is the natural way of existing and not existing. Our time here can only be fleeting, it is as it is- there is little point denying the fact. In fact, in some ways, I believe the promise of it to be a relief. Someday, you won't have to deal with all of the bullshit of being here."

Acidic eyes watch as his company accidentally cuts himself 'pon the blade he carries, a deep frown following swiftly behind. There is very little movement to the entirety of his person as he reached into a pocket and offered a handkerchief - the softened shake of his head following;

"Its sharp. You should be more careful to not place yourself in its way." It could do far more than a small slice, after all; the blade itself could rend aether from soul and part each one back to the sea- one had to be careful to not accidentally do so to ones self. "Dumbass."

"What about you-? Do you dread your end?"

Themis sat on the ground next to his companion and while he knew his words were the hidden truth behind their creation magicks, a part of him still wondered how Styx could accept these things so easily. Themis himself was training to become an emissary for the Convocation of Fourteen, and even though he was quite talented when it came to picking up and mastering new spells, he doubted that he would ever be in need of picking up a blade to defend himself. As Elidibus he wanted to help people, he did not want to fight, yet alone end a life.

“To be born is to.. die”, Themis repeated and a slight shudder ran down his spine. Die. The word sounded so absolute, almost hopeless, it did not sound as beautiful as the tales the elders told him about returning to the star once one’s journey has ended. Death. It was awaiting all of them one day, and even though Themis knew it was not supposed to be scary, one would be reunited with lost loved ones after all, but looking at the sharp blade in Styx’ lap made his stomach turn.

“Styx? Are you afraid of it? Afraid of returning to the star, I mean..”

The white-haired youth sighed, a deep sadness in his aquamarine eyes. He had only just met Styx, yet his new companion already managed to cause Themis to question the beliefs he grew up with. Reaching out his hand he ran his thumb along the edge of Styx’ blade and he hissed in surprise when it easily broke his skin. Themis was unaccustomed to knives and blades, but as he watched the blood drip from his finger he finally understood that yes, this blade could erase a being from existence just as easily as someone could create a new life with magicks.

[stygicniron]

fadedpath asked:

❛ i think that’s the worst thing i’ve ever heard. ❜ ( from hektor lol )

Lost Meme -- @fadedpath

"The worst idea would be taking a giant wooden horse into your own city," Nico replied dryly, giving the spirit a look. Yes, he knew that technically wasn't Hektor's fault, seeing as the guy was already dead when that happened, but that definitely meant Nico's idea wasn't the worst thing he'd ever heard.

That didn't mean Nico's idea was great though, and he sighed. "So maybe the second worst thing you ever heard." He wasn't thrilled with the prospect of wandering around the ancient fields of Troy looking for a random ghost that had been stuck there for millennia, but he didn't see a better option.

[hopeshoodie]

Ok but I've decided the headcanon to make me okay with Rahim being rude to MC on their supermarket date and on the last days of the season is that he's just incredibly exhausted and is lashing out.

Like they've been filming for months and he's an introvert so he's so overwhelmed with being around people 24/7 and being 'on' all the time that he's snippy with his partner. He's not like that irl and apologizes after the show.

[constance-rutherford]

FMK: Andrew, Johnathan, Happiness

Didn't she already make this choice? Fucked Johnathan, married Andrew, and killed her own happiness. Nailed it.

[flxshy]

He could sense the amusement from the other, despite the fact that his body was concealed under the thick blankets that kept them safe from the world.

"You wouldn't even make me breakfast in bed? Bully."