#also kita no pressure to reply to this if u don’t want to I just know u also love talking about flash

[symbiotic-slime]

Hi I heard you really like Flash and I've been meaning to learn more about his character for a personal story I'm writing, do you have any reading recs for Flash?

hi!! sorry it took me a couple days to get around to this but omg I’m so happy that I’m known as the guy who really likes Flash and yes I would love to talk about it!!

not sure how much you know so I’ll just give you a quick rundown of what Flash is like in the comics! he starts as Peter’s high school bully before becoming friends with him in university. he then joins the US army and fights in the Vietnam war, goes back to being a civilian, then joins the army again and loses his legs overseas. after losing his legs, he bonds with the Venom Symbiote and becomes Agent Venom. he stays in the army for a bit and then goes to space to fight with the guardians of the galaxy (pretty insane lmfao). after that, the Symbiote goes back to Eddie and Flash becomes Agent Anti-Venom. he dies fighting the red goblin but then gets revived during the King in Black run. honestly I haven’t kept up with much after that— he’s still Agent Anti-Venom but I honestly couldn’t tell you what he’s up to right now lmfao.

I’m not the most informed on Flash pre-Venom so imma tag my friend @kitausuret who’s definitely more of a Flash expert than me to tag in and fill in some of the gaps in my recs :D

if you’re specifically interested in Flash as Agent Venom, the Agent Venom run (Venom Vol. 2 #1-41) is a pretty great place to start! it follows Flash through his first bonding with the symbiote and working as a covert agent for the US government. the symbiote isn’t much of a character and is more so a tool (much to my dismay) but the run really handles Flash’s character, relationships, and alcoholism incredibly. The first half is mostly focused on him in the army/running from the army and the second half is him trying to live a quiet life in Philadelphia. he pseudo-adopts an edgy teenager named Andi Benton and she becomes his sidekick.

The Space Knight comics are also really well done! it follows Flash and the Symbiote fucking around in the galaxy and doing little side quests for a bit before the real plot kicks in. I really love how Flash and the Symbiote’s relationship and also Flash’s disability! they don’t tackle it head on iirc but they do show him using mobility aids casually and not just relying on the Symbiote to create legs for him which is nice to see. the concept is a bit nuts— Flash and the Symbiote are agents of the cosmos (basically symbiote good guys™️) and are doing odd jobs to help the citizens of the galaxy and making a little ragtag group of friends as they go— but it’s a really fun read!

for more Flash as Agent Anti-Venom, the smaller part of Costa’s Venom run Venom Inc. (Venom Inc. Alpha, Anazing Spider-man #792, Venom #159, Amazing Spider-man #793, Venom #160, Venom Inc. Omega) is very cool! it’s how he gets the Anti-Venom Symbiote in the first place and it develops his relationship with Eddie. they move from like actively hating each other to being mildly okay with the other person.

there’s also Venom Vol. 4, which is also called the King in Black run due to its heavy focus on Knull, the evil symbiote god. as a Venom fan, I can’t recommend this for how it handles the symbiote and Eddie, but Flash is a pretty big part of it and I like how he’s characterized. they try to do a brothers-in-arms dynamic between Eddie and Flash, Flash turns into a dragon at one point, it’s decent from a Flash fan perspective (I’m aware that this run sounds insane— it is lmfao).

I haven’t read a whole lot after KiB— from what I know he got involved with the Venom War stuff and is human again (he’s been debatably not human since KiB)? but yeah. hopefully there’s some useful info in my ramblings about the comics Flash is in :D

[myelocin]

Hello! (I dont expect this to be done right away so no pressure! it just suddenly entered my head i dont want to lose it) May i please request an osamu x reader: he's quite jealous that his s/o has been staring at his brother lately, but he didn't know that he's been on their mind the whole time; imagining all the faces osamu could make if he were as boisterous as atsumu.

hi hi! this is so late but i suddenly got the motivation to write fluff lmaooooo,,, also thank you for this it was super fun to write :D

Not So Identical | Miya Osamu, You, Miya Atsumu

Fluff | 1k+ drabble

-

Miya Osamu liked to think he was a pretty calm guy.

He didn’t lose his temper much—if he were around you, anyway. So that’s why when Osamu finds himself standing on the other side of the counter staring at you, blatantly gawking at Atsumu—he’s at a loss of words.

Atsumu had decided to stop by Osamu’s new branch in Shibuya for lunch; a usually a regular thing for him to do, but this time the supposedly calmer of the twins wanted nothing more than to deck Atsumu in the face and somehow hypnotize you to forget his existence.

But instead, he stood in his spot from behind the counter as he prepared lunch for the three of you, pouting, and you’re sitting next to Atsumu looking a little too absorbed in whatever story he was telling. From what he could hear, something had gone on during practice and Bokuto decided to take on the both Atsumu and Hinata’s dare that had him puking in front of Sakusa, of all people, in the middle of drills. To be fair, the louder of the two had quite the expressive behavior, so his storytelling always caught the attention of his audience. Still, Osamu inwardly huffed, slapping the nori a little haphazardly on the ball of rice, he looks fuckin’ weird.

I’m still the superior twin, Osamu thought, nodding to himself, I can cook, I have a thriving business, and Kita likes hanging out with me.

“Tsumu, you’re great!” He hears you from across the counter, and snaps his head in time to see you clap your hand on Atsumu’s shoulder—your eyes tearing up from laughing. Osamu rolls his eyes and slaps another piece of nori on another rice ball in the same haphazard fashion from earlier.

Y/n, he thinks, you get an ugly onigiri, too.

-

“Oi.” Atsumu says, eyebrows pinching together and bottom lip puckered out as he stares at Osamu. “Why does ours look shitty n’ yours look good?”

Osamu stares at the two of you seated across from him and bites into a perfectly prepared onigiri. “Don’t know what ya’ mean.”

“Anyways,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he turns to look at you, “Did I tell ya’ about that one time Bo’s kid cried because of him last week when he brought him over for practice?”

You shake your head no, and the smile you give Atsumu doesn’t fly past Osamu. For the next few minutes Osamu’s eyes dart in between the two of you as he angrily stuffs the remainder of his onigiri in his mouth. “I’m goin’ to get a drink.” He mumbles, standing up, and later shoots a glare in yours and Atsumu’s direction when neither of you bother to offer him a response.

I’m the superior fuckin’ twin. Osamu thinks to himself, as he yanks the refrigerator door open and grabs a can of beer.

“Oi, ‘Samu get me one too.” Atsumu yells, finally looking at his direction.

“Get your own restaurant.” He replies, but still grabs an extra can and a bottle of your favorite juice anyway.

Atsumu laughs and catches the can tossed at him. “Oi-“ Atsumu begins.

“—You’ve said oi three times, ya’ scrub, do you know any other words?” Osamu bites back.

“Osamu, no need to be so harsh.” You say, reaching over to grab the bottle he offered you and squeezing his arm in the process. Osamu huffs and takes a large swig from his can and Atsumu smirks, automatically understanding the look.

You’re jealous.  He mouths silently towards Osamu, and gets an exaggerated eye roll as a response.

Fuck off. Osamu mouths back.

You jump at Atsumu’s sudden laugh, “Well, gotta go back before I’m late. Thanks for the lunch.”

“You’re a pro athlete yet you never bother payin’ up.” Osamu yells towards Atsumu who’s halfway out the door. Atsumu looks over his shoulder, flipping his brother off, “You own three branches of you’re restaurant and ya’ can’t even buy your loving brother some lunch? Y/n, ya married the wrong twin.”

You laugh even as Atsumu leaves, then turn to finally face Osamu who glowers at your reaction. “Babe, why are you extra prickly with ‘Tsumu today?” You ask, walking around the counter with the empty plates on your hand.

“You’re starin’ at him too much. Does he look better?” He asks.

“You’re identical twins, ‘Samu.” You respond, turning to face him.

“Still,” he huffs, character suddenly shifting, “he’s a lot more built than I am, he still plays pr-“

You cross the room and tiptoe to peck the corner of his lips. “I was staring because I’m wondering what you would look like if you made all those expressions ‘Tsumu did.”

“Do I look boring?” He asks and you let out a laugh because Osamu acting this way wasn’t strange when it was just the two of you.

“No, babe, you don’t ever have to worry about looking boring, I married you for god’s sake.”

Osamu pecks your cheek, seemingly content with the answer you gave him and moves to wipe the counter. You turn on the faucet from the sink and snicker, still thinking about Osamu’s mini outburst.

He was always the calmer of the two, and you both acknowledged and adored it. You adored Atsumu like the family he is to you, but true to your words, Osamu was the one you married. Atsumu may have a different persona than his twin but along the years you’ve spent knowing them you realized even if they are completely identical, they still looked different from each other.

Atsumu’s eyes sparkle when he’s on court, and Osamu’s when he’s standing behind the counter watching a kid eat the food he prepared well. But you wouldn’t tell him that, for now, you think as you peer over your shoulder and watch Osamu rolling his eyes at a text on his phone. Probably Atsumu teasing him, you figured.

“Plus,” you call out, to which Osamu looks at you curiously, “The way you look in bed is an expression that I exclusively wanna see from you.”

You snicker even more when you hear Osamu uncharacteristically gasp and drop his phone.

-

a/n: also that sakusa incident atsumu talked about is from my previous oneshot which u can read here (it’s a dad!sakusa scenario uwu)

[archiveddvrpg]

Congratulations, KITA! You’ve been accepted for the role of CORIOLANUS. Admin Minnie: Kita, I genuinely don’t think we’ve had a Cyrus like yours join us in Verona. The way you capture both Cyrus’s beauty and his ugliness both. All that entitlement, all that arrogance, all that charm — you’ve grasped it masterfully. You understand Cyrus on a deep, personal level; but that’s not why I was so excited to accept your application. Ultimately, it was this line that really won me over: “But mostly, I am here because of this: if I do not stand witness to a falling star, if I do not love him as he is–, then I fear no one ever will.” I’m already in love with your Cyrus for who he is, and all the potential he has to ruin my life! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER Alias | kita Age | 20 Preferred Pronouns | she/her Activity Level | I think I can be fairly active. I am a full-time student, so my priority will always be there, but I always aim to get my replies done within a week. 6/10 or more? Hopefully more. Timezone | EST 

(also English is not my first language so pls be kind)

IN CHARACTER Character |

Cyrus Vicente Sloane ; CORIOLANUS FC: Lorenzo Zurzolo

Alt fc: Wolfgang Novogratz

What drew you to this character? |

oh Gods, where do I begin? Of all Verona’s monsters, Cyrus Sloane has to be one of the worst. At once, spoiled rotten, cruel and innately duplicitous, Cyrus is an arrogant princeling whose tyranny knows no bounds. And yet, as soon as I finished reading his biography, I knew it was over. He materialized in my mind like some sort of phantom, flashed that winning smile at me and visions of him haunted me ever after.

I saw his head across Brigette’s lap on a lazy summer afternoon. Sipping champagne out of long-stemmed glasses, wearing filigreed gold masks to cover their ugliness inside, the two of them are tyrants, fickle and fiendish things about to wreak terror on a city that has only known it.

———— “do you love me, cyrus?” she pouts. he smiles. when he kisses the petulance from her lips, there is no answer needed.

I saw his lips tilt upward into a smug grin as he and Lawrence meet up in a dingy bar. When the time comes, he throws his head back with laughter, he leans in, whispers something just loud enough for the other man to hear. This is a dangerous game to play, Lawrence knows. Nothing, after all, is ever given freely. But one look at Cyrus, at that indigent boy who seems not at all concerned with his traitorous tongue nor the consequences of it, and his fears are momentarily assuaged.

———— “all of this is just talk between friends, signor vernon,” cyrus says, waving off worries with an unconcerned shrug. lawrence pauses, raises an eyebrow, “is that what we are?”

I could wax poetic about why Cyrus is the way he is, why he plays at being charming, demands to be worshipped. But, in the end, it boils down to this: the rot in Cyrus Sloane is that he could not find it in himself to be forgiven. The anger he has in his heart, the revenge he plots– it is all because he cannot find anyone to blame but himself.

In Capetown, he learned to make weapons out of fleeting sweet-faced grins and honeyed lies. Barely into manhood, he won the hearts of his countrymen, had the ear of a kingpin, sat poised for an easy throne. But, though he had everything one could ever dream of, he still gave it all up in order to return to the place of his first and most terrible failure. Look, I have no doubt that he tells himself that he hates his mother. I have no doubt that he even believes that. However, I know that if you cut him open, you would see that he only hates that he does not hate her, not really. He hates that he cannot fault her for anything that she has ever done.

He had always idolized her, had always thought her the paragon of perfection, of stoic and unbending strength. He had never even blamed her for being cold to him– after all, his mother was never anything but pragmatic. She must have had her own reasons to toss him to the wolves. He blames her only for this: for propping up a mirror to his nature, for casting a light on a part of him that he would rather have never acknowledged… for reminding him that he was weak enough to be unwanted, that no matter how hard he tried to be beloved—he would only ever be left behind.

Yes, he is a sharp and cutting thing, hard to look at. He burns so bright, my icarian boy. He fashions himself so easy to be loved and flies so close to the sun, taunting it to shoot him down. He will ruin Verona, if he has his way. He will almost certainly burn himself up to do it. And I suppose I have applied— in part, to try and stop him, to save him from himself. But mostly, I am here because of this: if I do not stand witness to a falling star, if I do not love him as he is–, then I fear no one ever will.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

1— Nothing short of a prodigy in politics + war, this princeling figures some form of leadership to be the most natural application for his talents, and, as it seems, he seems destined for it. Impressed by Cyrus’ verve and natural aptitude for diplomacy, Cosimo has promoted the young man to an emissary and holds Cyrus in high regard. But, while Cyrus seems content in his position and its upwards mobility, he does not intend to take orders forever.

In his biography, there are inklings of a betrayal from Cyrus to the Capulets written throughout his biography. His position to Lawrence as an informant is an obvious clue of lack of loyalty, but it definitely goes far beyond that. Cyrus pays no mind to any man (nor God). He is only concerned with his own interest.

While the possibility of Cyrus becoming a Montague is tantalizing, I think Cyrus hates the Capulets for what they have done to him, but he hates all of Verona the same way. Trading loyalties to the Montagues, to another mob family with a rigid hierarchy isn’t how Cyrus sees himself. He wants to be King, not just a soldier with a different perspective of the Castelvecchio Bridge. Right now, Cyrus does his best to play at peace. But, as the war in Verona streets escalates, the number of neutral sanctuaries decreases, I intend to make Cyrus prove himself loyal to a side, once and for all— whichever one that may be.

———— “Do you not trust me?” Cyrus grins. With his teeth bared and the whites of his eyes glittering in the dark, he looks like the Cheshire cat. You think you have never trusted him less.

2— Earnestly, I think that Cyrus probably wouldn’t betray the Capulets for the Montagues. However, I didn’t say Cyrus wouldn’t betray the Capulets altogether. In fact, for his goal (just like… enacting revenge on all of Verona), I think it’s more likely than not that he will betray them at some point. A thread I’ve been following through the biographies is Cassian’s ties to certain neutral parties (olivia + mona in particular). I could be misreading, but Olivia has her eyes on him. Mona knows his secrets. Like snakes, they cut through the grass, wrap themselves around the prey and they squeeze. Pressure mounting, Cassian might crack sometime soon. And Cyrus— well, he’s nothing if not an opportunist.

In the biography, it is explicitly stated that Cyrus seeks to overtake Cassian. Though Cyrus plays the part of being his dutiful student, he has no real affection for his mentor. Ever since he has been in Verona, he has tried to get closer to his mentor. However, when he spots Olivia’s watchful gaze on the man, I think Cyrus will jump at the chance to act– to finally show that he is not someone to be underestimated. I think this is a perfect opportunity for him to stumble.

I would love to see him team up with Mona and Olivia to amp up the pressure on Cassian. And moreover, I would love to see Cyrus’ loyalties be swayed to them entirely. In my eyes, Mona Chen is someone who thrives in duplicity, whose mother (and father) has not been kind to her and someone who Cyrus knows- will never bow to anyone. It is those things that Cyrus respects. It is those things that will make Cyrus vulnerable to her.

Perhaps Cyrus just passes information about Cassian to Mona and Olivia at first. he offers his assistance from time to time. But maybe things go deeper. Maybe he sees Mona as the coming storm, as someone who will brings the winds of change. Maybe Cyrus can be even convinced to follow her entirely. In any case, this is a perfect opportunity for Cyrus to make a misstep, for him to reveal too much about himself and having that be his undoing. Mona is a woman who deals with secrets and has no problem weaponizing that. It would be awful for him, if she had some dirt of him.

———— “You cannot think that I will let you crush my mentor,” he says, “at least, not without my help.”

3— What is Cyrus without his mother? What is a list of plots without Cyrus and Vivianne on it?. Honestly, I don’t even know where this is going to go. I just know that it’s going to hurt so exquisitely. If you asked Cyrus about his mother, he would laugh. I have your love, he would say, why do I need hers? There is no hard feelings between the two of them, he says. What she did gave him a better life. I mean, just look at him. He was spoiled in Capetown, given everything he ever wanted. And now that he is back in Verona, his good fortune has only followed. Right?

In the years since Cyrus left Capetown, Vivianne has only thrived. She has married Cosimo, become the underboss of the city’s best crime family (fuck u, montagues). She has even found a surrogate daughter to replace him, one that she loves in ways that she never could with him. It is clear that the problem was never with her. To a layman’s eye, Cyrus is nothing but an indigent boy who aims to make Verona his playground. Reveling in every waking moment in the city, he’s a reckless and terrible thing, content to leave caution to the wind so long as he conquers these streets. But the truth is– he has no appetite for ambition without her as an audience, no desire to prove his happiness and success if the news will not travel somehow to her ears.

He hates Vivianne. But what he hates most about her is that—while he would have done anything for her attention, she never seemed to care for him. ———— “You have the world, Cyrus,” she says, calm as ever. He laughs. ”Does it matter? I would have given it all up if you had just been there.”

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | not yet.

IN DEPTH In-Character Para Sample:

//// I WROTE THIS LITERALLY ALL TODAY BC I WANTED TO GET MY APP IN PLS DONT JUDGE TOO HARSHLY

Mass had only ended an hour or so ago. The candles lit for the service still smoldered from having been snuffed out. But Cyrus held no pretensions—sanctity had left this house of worship far before that.

There was nothing holy about this place, he ascertained.  

Perhaps there never had been.

Of course—he would not deny that, as a child, Cyrus had found the Cattedrale di Verona impossibly beautiful. A feat of architecture like no other, it had filled his chest with wonder to see the golden mural that arched across the vaulted ceiling, the reverential way sunlight passed through the stained glass. However, he had long since learned that the spectacle was only a clever ruse. Just like most things in Verona, beauty existed only to hide the rot that so often lurked beneath.

As he walked through the empty pews now, he felt a visceral disgust with himself. How had he not seen it? While he sat in these very seats, knelt on this very floor, sought out something bigger than himself, looked in every corner to find out why the room always felt so empty, he had been blind to the cracks in walls, the chips in the paint. The priest had said once to him that “in god, he would find all answers”—but there was no salvation to be found here.

Even when he had needed it the most, he had never found any salvation here.

Yes, you see he understood now. There was only one reason why he came to the Cathedral now: to drink in his bitterness, to remind himself of the debt he was owed.

The Cathedral was his, just like this city was. Not in that he believed in it or that he loved it more than anyone else, but because he had paid for it ten times over. It had promised him mercy and benevolence and safety, but, when every alley had looked like fear and every corner had held another terrible surprise, it had denied him of all of it. When he was weak, they had cast him aside, and he still remembered that casual cruelty, still felt the sting of rejection and could not bear it.

With no one around to stop him, Cyrus clambered atop an empty pew and went to light a cigarette. While the puff of smoke rose ever upwards, caressed the faces of Abaddon and John, St. Michael and Magog, he laughed. How prescient of them, he thought to himself, to paint a picture of their own reckoning.

He stubs his cigarette out on the pew. It leaves a scorch mark, but he does not seem to care. He offers a rakish smile to no one in particular. He laughs.

“You would forgive me,” he says to the empty air.

(And look- look at that winsome smile, at that careless leer. You could try to fault him for something. He would dare you to. But you would still forgive him anyways.)