#anyone know a way to block without having to view their page?

[tomatosplat]

it's fucked up that to block a porn blog you have to click onto the porn blog

[letoasai]

dp x dc Chronos part 2

Part 1  and Part 3 

The Justice League sat in the Watchtower, some of them at least. The meeting was meant to be a quick one, only certain members in attendance to make sure they were all on the same page after the debrief of the last mission. Not all of them were necessary and most were usually busy. 

Today Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash and Green Lantern were in the middle of wrapping things up when the alert sounded. The siren blared twice before the red lights in the corner of each room flashed in an emergency.

“What in the world…” Flash grumbled but was obviously the first to the controls to look for the problem. None of the main alarms had been triggered, none of the doors messed with. No unusual motion noted in parts of the station that were currently vacant. “Weird.” 

“What is it?” Batman was next beside him, arms crossed as he peered at the screen with narrowed eyes. 

“It’s the sensors.” Flash said. “We’re picking up some kind of  interference.” 

“Way up here? What kind?” Green Lantern asked, he’d moved to one of the wide windows of the viewing deck as if he would be able to see something approaching. As things were, there was nothing but the normal vastness of space with Earth to one side.

“No idea.” Flash said. “Never seen something like this before.” 

“Any idea on a location?” Superman asked, appearing by Green Lantern’s side. 

Flash just clucked his tongue, hitting buttons much faster than a normal person. It was almost an irritation that he had to wait for the computer to keep up with him. “I mean, there’s nothing exactly to track yet.” 

“An anomaly then.” Wonder Woman said, leaning back against the conference table they’d all just been sitting around. “Something natural?” 

“There’s nothing natural about this.” Batman said, tone skeptical as he gazed at the screens. 

“Gonna side with that bat on this one.” Flash said, “It’s more like a warning before anything happens. Something setting off the sensors but nothing else? Feels like it was on purpose.” 

Green Lantern rolled his eyes. “What, like something’s knocking before they make themselves known?” 

Before anyone could even offer their opinion on what they thought of something so ridiculous, a spark of green ripped through the air like lightning. Just as quickly it spread out into an obvious portal. Every member of the Justice League sprang into position, circling the phenomenon to block it in from every direction. Things like this shouldn’t have been possible, but it wasn’t the first time an intruder had gotten creative to get inside the Watchtower. 

Without any fanfare, a man stepped out. They presumed it was a man anyway. He was dressed in mostly shades of purple other than his leather boots and gloves. He was covered by a cloak and hood, but when he looked up, it was hard to say what about him was the most unsettling. The red eyes. The blue skin. The pendulum clock that set back into his chest so far that he could only be missing crucial organs. 

“Who are you?” Superman demanded, quickly trying to assess if there would be a fight or not. 

“How did you get here?” Batman said right after, gravel tone somehow more frightening because he was calm. 

The intruder just gestured with his thumb at the portal behind him. “Thought it was rather obvious.” 

“Your purpose?” Wonder Woman asked, looking relaxed but her body was tense and ready to react in a moments notice. 

“My purpose?” He chuckled quietly. In his hand was a staff they’d almost missed before, the top of it cradling a clock. It seemed to be a theme given the number of watches and clocks he wore. “I’ve come to call in a favor. The Justice League owes me several.” 

“We owe you? Ppfff. Yeah right. We don’t even know who you are.” Flash rolled his eyes.

The intruder turned to the Flash, his brow raised. “Speedster, with the amount of times you’ve dabbled in the time stream, you alone owe me your life a fair few times.” 

“Time, huh?” Green Lantern looked him over. There were a lot of clocks... “Guess that’s your schtick.” 

He chuckled again. “I go by many names, only one will be relevant to you today.” He turned his attention onto Wonder Woman who squared up under his gaze. If she was going to be his focus then she’d take him head on. 

“And?” She arched a brow at him. “What name may we call you?” 

He looked amused, red eyes filled with mirth. “You, Diana, may call me grandfather.” 

The room stilled, the others looking around in varying degrees of confusion while Wonder Woman just paled. 

“Chronos. God of time…” she muttered, making it very clear to the team what they were dealing with. A God. 

“I go by master of time these days, but yes. I am that Chronos. I have a task for you, Diana. One i do not think you will turn down but i’ll give you the illusion of choice.” Chronos said, the minute and hour hands on his staff moving strangely. 

“You’re a god, and you come to us for help?” Batman asked, unimpressed no matter the glowers he was being sent by the others. 

“You are the Justice League, aren’t you?” Chronos looked pleased. “Righting wrongs. Defending Earth. Justice is in the name and everything.” 

He didn’t talk like a god. He didn’t even talk as formally as Wonder Woman herself tended to occasionally. 

“Doing tasks for you is asking for trouble.” Wonder Woman muttered. She’d heard stories, so many stories. 

Chronos shrugged. “Time is messy. Keeping it in line is difficult. Especially when there are those who mess with it who should not.” He was not above verbally throwing speedsters under the bus.

“What do you want?” Green Lantern asked, obviously suspicious but paying very close attention. 

“Simple.” Chronos answered, still looking at his granddaughter. “You will take custody of your uncle for a time. He needs a safe place to rest and live.” 

The silence that followed was loud, no one knowing what to make of that. Wonder Woman herself looked puzzled. 

“Are you claiming a sibling of Zeus needs a babysitter?” 

Chronos hummed. “He is my son though he holds no biological relation to your father, i suppose.” 

“Then how is he her uncle?” Flash asked, with a hint of sass. 

“You can ask Batman how it works.” Chronos mused, saying all he would say on the matter but that was enough. 

Wonder Woman couldn’t fathom what kind of person her grandfather would see fit to adopt. “Are you going to tell me more?” 

“Telling you more would imply you were agreeing to the task.” 

She tsked. “None of your word games. I want to know what i could be walking into.” 

Chronos never once looked threatened or put out, he did however, appear to look a few years older than he had when he’d first appeared. “He recently needed to be removed from his home for his safety. He can easily visit me but staying with me long term at this time is not beneficial to him for health reasons.” 

Superman frowned. “Removed from his home? How old is he?” 

“Sixteen. If that is all you need to know, i will fetch him. It may take some time for him to regain consciousness.”  Chronos said. 

“He’s been hurt?” Batman was frowning at the thought, looking more and more unhappy as the conversation progressed. 

“I did say he was removed from his home.” Chronos said, almost flippantly as he stepped back into his glowing green portal. It remained open, everyone exchanging looks. 

“Diana, is this a good idea?” Superman asked, willing to accept her judgment. Greek gods were more her wheelhouse. 

“Chronos was a titan. Is a titan?” She frowned. “His power is immense for a being thought to be killed.” 

“Something about him is off.” Batman agreed. “He was not worried at all. That is someone aware they have the upper hand.” 

Wonder Woman just nodded her agreement. Chronos was the god of time. There was no telling what he knew. “I’ve never met him before.” 

“Hell of a time for family reunions.” Flash snarked, heading back to the controls to see what readings they could get on the floating portal. It was obvious each of them wanted to study it in their own way. Scans and samples were first on their minds but it was clearly some kind of magic they weren’t familiar with. 

It was almost a shame there wasn’t a single member from JLD currently in the Watchtower. They might have been able to provide answers. 

Before much of anything could be done, Chronos returned, somehow looking several years younger than when he first appeared. In his arms was a lanky teen, cradled carefully as if he were fragile. He was equally a sight that left the League speechless. He wasn’t blue, in fact he looked more or less human other that the freckles that shined. 

Superman was the one to immediately note they were constellation patterned. 

His hair was a stark white that wisped and flowed as if he were under water. His clothes were strange, a detailed variation of an old hazmat suit, all done in black and white. Floating above his head was a crown that didn’t seem to know if it wanted to be on fire or covered in ice. It bobbed back and forth and even did a slow flip in the air but never left the area about the boy’s head. 

When no one uttered a word, Chronos took that as permission to begin the introductions. “Diana, this is your uncle. Danny Phantom. Son of the Stars. The Personification of Balance. The Ghost King. High King of the Infinite Realm.” 

“He’s a king?” Batman frowned. “He’s a boy.” 

“He could be both, Bats. He’s got a crown.” Flash chuckled softly. 

Chronos shared his amusement. “I did say he was only sixteen.” The god paused for a moment as the teen twisted in his arms, his face pressed against Chronos’ shoulder and a hand lightly pressed against the door of the clock embedded into the man’s chest. 

The fact that, even asleep, the boy was comfortable in the gods arms didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Is he injured?” Wonder Woman asked. They’d gone over this already but he didn’t look actively wounded. He seemed to be sleeping only. 

Chronos grunted once. “One form heals faster than the other. He needs rest, ambient ectoplasm which he knows how to get on his own, and food. He can answer your questions if he feels like it.” 

“If he feels like it?” Green Lantern frowned. 

“He’s the King.” Chronos’ lips twitched in amusement again. “If he decides to tell you more, or seek help, that is his decision.” 

“Seek help?” Batman’s eyes were narrowed. “Seek help for what?” 

Chronos approached and shifted the teenager into Wonder Woman’s arms. His crown shifted back and forth but never left the teen. The grip he had on the god wasn’t noticed until he tried to pull away and Chronos needed to carefully extract the boy’s hand. 

Ignoring Batman, he pressed on. “He’ll need to follow up with his doctor by the end of the week. He’ll know how to do that. If he doesn’t, his doctor will come to him. That should be incentive enough.” 

“Does he know you’re dropping him off here?” Superman asked, brows knitted together in concern. The heroes had been expecting a fight, not to be handed a royal teen. 

“He has a fondness for for space, so you might want to let him wake up here.” Chronos said instead, ignoring that question too. He was growing older again, a short, white beard starting to form.

“How long will he need to be in my care?” Wonder Woman asked, noting the boy weighed very little in her arms. In sleep his features were soft, hopefully he was as sweet as he looked. 

“Good luck.” Chronos said, staff reappearing in his hand now, turning back to the portal without giving her an answer. 

“Hey! Wait!” Flash yelled but for once, he was too slow, the god and the portal disappeared. 

Five members of the Justice League just stood in a mild stupor, their attention shifting to the sleeping teen. 

“Well…” Superman muttered. 

Wonder Woman looked at the boy, floating hair and crown moving in tandem. “I’ll set him down. We’ll see if he can answer any of our questions when he wakes up.” 

“You gonna call him Uncle Danny?” Flash asked, not bothering to hide his smile. 

Wonder Woman just ignored him and turned to stride off towards the med-station. -------------------------

------------------------- No idea at all if i’ll continue this. If anyone else wants too, go for it. ^_^

@markus209

[maximwtf]

“The perfect silence. ”

Tighnari x Valuka Shuna! Reader

Words: 1430

Google Docs Pages: 2,5

Warnings: Established relationship, implied neurodivergent reader but nothing specific, overstimulation caused by noise, angst-ish/comfort

Opening: Valuka Shuna have exceptional hearing, but at times that feature becomes a little too much. Thankfully you know someone who understands. 

AN// G/N Reader. Erm, okay I said I wouldn’t write for him again but this is an exception…but don’t quote me on that if I write more after this. Also yippee, finally posting all my "left in docs to rot" works that I thought were somewhat worth it to finish :"D

“The perfect silence. ”

The whole day every noise and sound had felt amplified, bothering you while working. Having one of those days where you had to collaborate with other forest watchers hadn’t helped, the noise of their chatter having started to bother you as well at some point of the day. But it wasn’t like you could leave them and your work undone, having had to endure it. But that meant that at the end of the day you’d just been worn out, mind overwhelmed. Mindlessly making your way to a place you knew you could find some sort of solace at. 

Tighnari’s office had become somewhat of a familiar place for you, not to mention the relations you had with the man himself. Trusting that he if anyone would understand how you were feeling, if not to the exact extent. But having someone to understand felt better than being surrounded by people who you couldn’t ask to be quiet, without getting odd looks and questions you didn’t have the energy to answer. 

Reaching his office at last with a rather pained expression on your face, ears pinned down in an attempt to block out sound. Though, it hardly helped if there were enough people around. 

Ending up here in this state definitely not being the first time either. Having known from the start that he was possibly the only one close to you that experienced heightened hearing to a similar extent. Even if it didn’t overwhelm him in a similar sense, he had still always seemed to understand in his own way. And you’d been willing to explain it to him in the past, giving him insight on how you were feeling at moments such as this. Seeing how interested he was made you less worried about him viewing the topic as a bother. Making sure you didn’t ever worry about being a disturbance, when he wanted to be there to help. 

You walked up to one of the beds his patients usually laid in, in the corner of the room. Sitting on the very edge of it, curling your tail around your legs for comfort. Pinning your ears further down in agitation. Knowing Tighnari would sooner or later question what was going on. So before he was able to break the silence, you whispered ‘loud’. Which thankfully more often than not was enough for him to catch up with the situation. 

Tighnari had keenly followed as you’d arrived and sat on the edge of the bed. Worried after seeing the distressed expression on your face, not daring to say or ask anything about it before you’d explained the situation a little. But after catching up, understanding what had likely happened. 

Though, fortunately he didn’t seem distressed himself. More so rather understanding and careful, not wanting to make the situation worse. This not being the first time you’d come to him for help, and likely not the last time either. Or so he at the very least hoped, knowing you trusted him and this being a sign of it. 

Even if he knew he couldn’t do much to help, he was still willing to try. 

Tighnari walked up to the bed, carefully sitting down on the edge but not saying anything. If he was correct to assume every noise was amplified for you, he didn’t wish to be an add-on to everything else. 

Luckily for him, you explained the situation a little further. “I had so many group projects today, so many people chatting and moving around”, you whispered. A lot of the forest watchers often coming to you for help, due to knowing how much longer you’d been doing the work. Having had time to learn close up from Tighnari himself, so your help was always appreciated. 

Clenching your jaw after finishing, not liking the sound of your own voice. Thinking it better to not talk before you were able to calm down properly.

Tighnari wasn’t exactly the best at comforting others emotionally or supporting them mentally. Seeing logical conclusions as more effective and easier to come up with. But that didn’t mean he’d just sit and watch you, especially when he knew what was wrong. Knowing how easily his ears picked up noise, he could only imagine how much it must have bothered you. 

Tighnari placed his hand on your shoulder, lowering his own ears in sympathy. A rather unreadable expression on his face while deep in thought, thinking of possible ways to ease your mind. Gaze quickly checking that the door was closed so no one could intrude to make the situation worse. As of right now, the space was almost fully silent. Knowing that it was usually enough for you, but in truth he didn’t feel like it was. Wishing there was something else he could still do. 

His eyes spotting the spiked up hairs at the base of your ears, thinking it must have been due to today's work and the distress. Attempting to gently brush them back in place, mind still racing. Logically speaking, if noises were too loud maybe focusing on something else would help. Something that didn’t make noise but ultimately got your attention for long enough to get the overwhelming feeling off your shoulders. 

Tighnari’s caresses against your ears had somewhat of a calming effect, the subtle sound of it soothing. Yet, the thought of speaking up sounding horrid. Hearing any loud sound did for that matter, making you frustrated. You’d at last gained the silence that you’d been craving for for half of the day, not wishing to waste the chance to breathe. 

Raising your head to see what Tighnari was doing, eyes pleading for an answer or a solution that even you couldn’t name. 

Tighnari responded to the look with an understanding one, pained due to how little he could in truth do. Though, your gaze had returned him to the thought he’d just had. Carefully moving over to his belongings by the table. Pulling out a small bottle of liquid, swirling it around for a moment to see how much of it was left before returning to you. 

Hearing a frustrated sigh from you, knowing how tiring this always seemed to be for you. But understanding exactly why. Watching every now and then as your eyes followed his movements while he opened the bottle. 

A pleasant scent intruded the surrounding area. You soon noticed how familiar it was, it taking a moment to figure out why. It soon coming to you that it was the same scent of the oil Tighnari often used on his ears and tail. And due to its familiarity it got your attention, ears raising a little at the notion. 

Tighnari smiled to himself, cheering internally as his hypothesis seemed to have been correct. Gently moving to apply some of the oil to the base of your ears, combing the messed up parts back in place with care. Combing your hair in place while at it. 

You lowered your head, focusing on the familiar scent of the oil. Only now truly realising how much energy all this had taken out, finding yourself exhausted. Yet, somewhat relieved you were able to notice that, coming back to it. The aroma of the oil being more overpowering than sound for your mind.

You lifted your head to watch Tighnari fiddle with the small bottle. Scared of breaking the perfect silence, but thankful for Tighari for continuing to find ways to help you. And you were well aware that he knew how you felt, yet there was always a deep need to express that gratitude to him time and time again. 

Moving carefully closer to him before placing your head at the crook of his neck. Hands gently holding on to his shirt before moving on their own to wrap around him. To which he cautiously answered to, grateful you seemed to feel better and not so tense. Aware you’d told him that his presence was enough, yet it never felt so for him. Feeling the need to figure something out to do more. 

You moved your head up, knowing you’d likely doze off if you stayed still for too long. Even now feeling your eyelids get heavy from the peace and quiet. A pleasant scent in the air, Tighnari’s form warm against you. Staring at him from a rather close distance, almost mouthing the quiet words, “thank you.” Knowing he could hear it. But also aware how little words meant in these moments, actions being much louder. Watching as Tighnari’s ears drooped a little, calm. Happy to see you doing better. 

[loullofficial]

@bucktommypositivityweek || prompt: house hunting

rating: g

word count: 1,365

contains general spoilers for 8b

Buck was officially out of places to stay. He’d been bouncing around couches since Eddie officially moved back. Of course, he’d offered to let Buck stay until he found a place, but after a few sleepless nights, Buck decided it would be best if he slept somewhere else. Since the fight he and Eddie had, the house didn’t feel the same. It used to be like home to him, but now it felt cold and unwelcoming, no matter how settled Eddie and Chris got. It had been over a month, and he wasn’t any closer to finding a place that he could see himself settling down in. He was frustrated, but he couldn’t pick just anywhere. He wanted a forever home. Somewhere he could have a partner and kids and probably a dog or ten. That kind of place was hard to come by.

After his third showing that week, Buck drove himself a few blocks away before absolutely shutting down. The world kept spinning when Tommy left again and when Bobby died, but Buck couldn’t move on. How could he? He hadn’t spoken to Tommy since the funeral, and he’d tried the whole church thing for Bobby and none of it worked. Even surrounded by the 118 he felt alone. It was like life went on for everyone else and they all left him behind.

When Buck started to drive again, he was on autopilot. He didn’t even really know where he was driving to until he was suddenly turning down a familiar street. No, he thought, shaking his head as he pulled up behind the truck in the driveway. It was just as old and red as ever. I can’t do this. His body and his brain were clearly on different pages though, because Buck was getting out of the car, walking up to the door, and knocking on it. By the time his brain finally caught up and he’d turned on his heel to go back to the jeep, the door was opening.

“Evan?” Tommy looked confused or surprised or some mix of both. Buck was tongue-tied. He couldn’t exactly explain why he was there because he didn’t even know. “Are you alright?” Tommy saw that kind of distant look in Buck’s eyes. It was the one he got when he was so deep in his own mind that he couldn’t find his way out on his own. “Do…you wanna come in?” Buck nodded almost desperately, stepping inside as soon as Tommy moved out of the way.

Tommy wasn’t sure exactly what this was, which made it incredibly hard for him to figure out what Buck wanted from him, what Buck needed from him. He just knew he needed something, and that was all he needed to know. He’d bend over backwards for Buck, no matter what. That much was obvious considering the two times he’d broken the law with him, both when they weren’t even together.

“I’m sorry for just showing up here…I just didn’t know where else to go and I was driving and saw your street and…” Buck paused, his breaths heavy as he tried to keep himself calm enough to talk without completely falling apart. He was still trying to embody Bobby’s last request to him, to be strong and be there for everyone, but no one needed him and he didn’t know what to do. He was being strong, but had no one to be strong for which just left him feeling numb. “I had another house viewing today because Eddie moved back and it’s been weeks and nothing feels right. I put in for a transfer at work, I’ve been bouncing around on couches and I can’t talk to anyone because they all have their own stuff going on right now and the last thing anyone needs is my shit on top of it.” Buck couldn’t seem to stop the words once they started. “Maddie had her baby, Hen and Karen adopted Mara, Eddie’s back with Chris and I’m…” Alone. Buck’s voice wavered and that was all Tommy needed to hear. He stepped forward and pulled Buck into his chest, his arms wrapped firmly around him with one hand rubbing small circles on his back.

“It’s not crap, Evan.” Tommy hummed, wondering to himself who had put that thought in his mind. He wouldn’t put it past Buck to convince himself of that though. “They’re your family, you said it yourself. You guys have each other’s backs.” Tommy had no idea just how wrong he was. At least at the moment. What used to be Buck’s support system had all but disappeared when he needed it most. Everyone grieved in their own ways, but when it came to Buck, everyone found his coping to be selfish. “I’m sorry. About the house situation. And your transfer.” He wondered why Buck wouldn’t just stay with Eddie, but after their last conversation about him, Tommy didn’t want to ask. The transfer either. None of it felt like his place.

“Doesn’t really feel like a family right now.” Buck shook his head. “Without Bobby the 118 is just…it’s just a number now. They don’t need me there so it’s better that I just go for a clean break.” Tommy was shocked. “I want to be able to move on like everyone else has, but I feel so stuck.” Buck was still pressed against Tommy’s chest, his eyes shutting as he let out a quiet sigh. Without thinking, Tommy pressed a kiss to Buck’s hair, squeezing him a little bit tighter to his chest. It felt natural, like most other things did with Buck. It was only when Buck shifted to look at him that he realized he’d even done it.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Tommy started to pull away, but Buck didn’t let him move. He felt Buck’s eyes burning through him as they stared at each other. Buck didn’t say anything either, they just stood like that until he finally made a move. Buck leaned into Tommy, pulling him into a slow kiss. He’d always found comfort in intimacy with Tommy. It was the only thing that did feel right anymore.

“It’s okay.” Buck said quietly as he pulled away with a smile.

—

Tommy helped Buck after that day, offering to let him stay in his guest room which lasted all of one night before Buck was in Tommy’s bed. Buck was still looking for houses and figuring out his transfer, but he had Tommy. After another couple of weeks, Buck felt like he’d toured every vacancy in LA and still he didn’t find the one. It wasn’t until one night, while he was curled up against Tommy’s chest, that he realized something. Eddie’s house hadn’t felt like home until he was there with Tommy. He realized that maybe home wasn’t a place, but a person. He was terrified to talk to Tommy about it, knowing that the idea of moving in together was the reason they broke up in the first place. Before he could ask though, Tommy surprised him.

“I would love that.” Buck nodded quickly. He’d realized at that time that home wasn’t a place, for him, it was a person and that person was Tommy.

[autosuns]

Of Ambulon and Pharma and doomed amica endura

I'll preface that I'm the last person to try and explain my ships by how canon they are and this is very much the same case of me just entertaining the idea and what their relationship represents and what role they play in a wider story, this is not an invitation for discourse or a debate. It's just me rambling on why I like the ship so much, think Pharma and Ambulon are narrative foils, while using some canon stuff and word of god.

Jokes about hamburger or hot dog or literally anything regarding Ambulon's death will end in block idc I think it's obnoxious 👍

CW for robot gore, discussions of torture, you know, the package that comes with DJD and Decepticons and MTMTE.

When it comes to Ambulon and Pharma's relationship, I think it's fair to start with bare bones, yeah?

I'm going to start with each character individually, what my take on them is, so we're all on the same page.

Ambulon

So, the basics are:

Ambulon was part of the failed combiner project of decepticons, the first combiner at that. He has horrible alt mode, that brings him a lot of shame, so he prefers to keep it a secret. He switched to the Autobots, eventually.

We don't know for certain if he was created for the project, or was one of the "volunteers". What we do know though, is that he's an MTO specifically, not just constructed cold, and MTOs were a concept of war.

Meaning, he cant be older than the war. Meaning, in my personal opinion, he was either made for some operation, then snatched by Shockwave for the project, or was created already specifically for the project.

There, I think, comes a timeline conflict. It feels unfeasible, to me, that MTOs were made this early into the war, by Decepticons. What I think happened, is that Shockwave did try to experiment on other Decepticons to figure out and develop on Jhiaxus' research, but once MTOs as a concept came into the picture, it became infinitely easier to just have an alt mode pre-made for a mech.

Unless when Shockwave said he was going to give Megatron a gestalt he meant he'll postpone it for 4mil years and do it a little before he succeeded with Devastator so Ambulon deserting LITERALLY as he is picked out for the combiner project JUST to avoid it makes this line from him especially funny:

Boy for all we know you're not even 15 years old.

Also the idea that character like Ambulon did that out of some sort of cowardice, that THIS was his breaking point to join Autobots, feels wrong.

In-text it becomes even less likely Ambulon had a life before the project, as his name "Ambulon" seems to be the only one he ever had (judging by his statue post on Necroworld).

I think why I'm getting a Little long-winded explaining Ambulon is to draw a better picture on his experience with Decepticons, Specifically Shockwave.

That to say, he had a horrible one. He knows better than anyone what Decepticons are capable of and how far they will go/what Megatron would allow. Especially once DJD comes into the picture.

And it just emphasizes the way Ambulon in the end of it all chose kindness. The first issues he appeared in cement it very well, especially since most of his intro we get from First Aid's point of view.

Ambulon is tetchy, can be a gearstick sometimes

Ambulon took pity on the Decepticons he thought were hunted down by the DJD

Ambulon convinced Pharma to let them stay

The Genericons showed their scars to Ambulon specifically

Ambulon gets passionate about hate crimes concerning one's shape/alt mode

Ambulon is "tetchy" and rejects First Aid's idea because he's concerned that it's too risky

For Ambulon to put your own life on the line to save a single life is an act of selfishness (also stemming out of his concern for First Aaid, imo)

Ambulon let the Genericons share a cell

To sum it up: Ambulon is very greatly concerned for the greater good and treating people without bias, Decepticon or Autobot, especially when there's any sort of discrimination involved.

(Using Genericons and Triple M as a tool with Ambulon was a very clever foreshadowing for Ambulon's situation, but it is a general theme that runs in these issues and Ratchet's/medics character arcs, it's the functionism, one's shape and purpose in life, but it is a completely different post to make. Just let's keep the theme of one's shape and purpose in mind.)

The thing is, Ambulon is who he is by choice. His Decepticon past is always showing, whether he wants it or not, but all he wants, essentially, is to help people and treat them with kindness. He's a "gearstick", but he's a gearstick with a big spark. He saw the greater cruelty in Decepticons and made a choice to never participate in it.

Ambulon is an MTO who made his life and became what he wants to be despite everything: Decepticons, his alt-mode, biases, all of that. He's true to himself and his intentions.

I'm gonna also get this out of the way that Ambulon's established character is continuously ignored, dumbed down and twisted: the point is that I do believe JRO didn't think about him that much or that deep, and what he did with him did not retain with him into further issues. That is to say, "You're gonna let Dr DJD cut us in half?" is a dumb fucking line to come out of Ambulon specifically, makes no sense, too snarky and cruel all things considered, and while I think it's also very funny it jsut shows Ambulon's accidental insignificance. Ok. That's all.

Pharma

Oh boy this one's a doozy. Okay, listen, I'll try to get more brief with it, try to get straight to the point, but Pharma has so much nuance around him on a greater scheme of things that it might also just be it's own post. SO we'll just try to focus on his persona and relations to others.

Pharma is a doctor of talent on par with Ratchet, if not actually better. He used to be friends with him, he's implied to have used to do medical service in the new institute, and eventually was stationed on Delphi by Prowl, practically abandoned by Ratchet. There, he ends up being blackmailed by Tarn, ending up killing his patients to meet the increasing quota, being led to the brink of creating a virus that he exposes the facility to in hope to close it down and escape it scot-free. Obviously, because of Ratchet, it didn't work, the rest is history.

Unlike Ambulon with his 3 panels and a half of screentime worth talking about character-wise, Pharma is a combination of multiple things at once, his place as an Autobot, his connection to the DJD, his act, and most of his actual character we get from very few shots of him from the past and what people say of him, and just a little of his behavior at Delphi before his crime is revealed.

So I think we'll focus specifically on the Decepticon part when it comes to Pharma cuz it's much easier to talk about.

Pharma vehemently, without hiding it, hates Decepticons.

It will go into even bigger field of speculations than trying to piece Ambulon's character together for why he hates them so much. It could both just be a thrown in line for the story to flow (Genericons) and act as a foreshadowing (DJD blackmail), the fact of the matter is, he hates Decepticons, he does not have pity for Decepticons, and if DJD did not play into his hatred, years of war for sure did.

(Also worth mentioning that in the issue #4, the paralleling story is Tailgate learning about the war and backing off on his decision to be a Decepticon. The entire build up works very well, imo, and plays into just how much it should hit you when Pharma turns out providing for DJD, along with the choice of Ambulon to not be a Decepticon anymore.)

You see, I think Pharma is incredibly caring person. He cares for his patients and he cares for his people. He takes his work extremely seriously. He's willing to be a donor for his patient and he's still conducting research to cure illnesses when there was no legitimate point for him to do that anymore. He's not just a surgeon, but he's a virologist/epidemiologist.

But, probably when we ask ourselves, "So if he was such a wonderful doctor, equal to Ratchet, someone Ratchet recognizes, why wasn't he the Chief Medical Officer in the first place?"

I think it's mostly his personality. It's his hubris and ego. It's also the inherent societal bias of Cybertron when it comes to jets - though this part of worldbuilding isn't that consistent, he is a forged jet AND a doctor.

And that's also why I think he doesn't believe in that "forged" functionism bullshit. BUT thats another post of its own (take a shot every time i say that in this post).

Let's just bullet point this:

Pharma is a talented doctor who's good and dedicated to his job. Practically nothing is impossible for him and it becomes a focal point of his conflict with Ratchet, too.

That said, Pharma's shape is what, I think, is responsible for his hubris. He's a jet, he's forged, he's a doctor, but he's a doctor because HE, PHARMA, is good. Nothing to do with some God. (which is different from Ratchet's internalized functionism)

Pharma hates Decepticons, he tried to kill the DJD, and it may seem like he pushed it all on Ambulon because he was a Decepticon, but I don't think that's the case. Specifically because of this:

He does not see Ambulon as a Decepticon, and it was just panicked shitty lie he had to quickly come up with on the spot.

Pharma feels guilt for his actions, and after killing Ambulon, he's actively taunting First Aid to kill him.

Pharma is a jet doctor trapped in the loop of self-sabotage after being exploited, psychologically tortured and left for dead, after a poor attempt of saving face. Pharma is a jet doctor who embraced his new look, but couldn't live with it, far from accepting it. Furthermore, his body is used by Adaptus himself, where the only thing he could do is trying to get his body back, to help his comrades, only to end up dying, again.

That's where I'm going to use a single word of God that makes, all in all, a lot of sense.

"Grurdging respect" is about best way to describe Pharma and Ambulon.

Now since I've reached the image limit on this post it's relentless rambling and speculations time!

You probably can already tell where I'm going with this. I think Pharma and Ambulon direct inversions of each other.

Decepticon gone Autobot as a choice - Autobot gone rogue out of blackmail and fear of failure

MTO doing what he wants to do and taking control of his body and life, disconnected from a gestalt or his "purpose" - A forged jet trying to continue his career of a doctor despite all the odds but who's agency is continuously taken, not only by others but by his own ego

Where they overlap, is their desire to do what they want. Where they differ, is one's sincerity and other's toxicity.

Ambulon is someone Pharma would never be, and someone he, on meta level, wishes he was more like. He doesn't want to be Ratchet, even if we think a little about his obsession and desire to prove to Ratchet that he's better, he wants to be someone Ratchet would respect. And in the end of the day, it all didn't matter anymore, because clearly Ratchet never respected him enough in the first place: "waging a war on his body", taking body parts for his own gain (hands), that Pharma didn't even really care about anymore. It was personal. He wanted Ratchet to hurt.

All of this, ultimately, is justified. Little who would respond to knowing someone who betrayed you (and whom you, also, betrayed) also breached boundaries of your autonomy. It's just basic decency. I don't believe TFs never heard of that or don't follow it, in some fashion. Maybe it's more loose, but for the purpose of drama and villification of Pharma, it was convenient, I guess.

See, Pharma is just inherently, like anyone, very flawed. The circumstance he's put in and the war led to the worst of his qualities spike. And in relation to Ambulon, it's the inverse of a person who, having seen the horrors of the war, having been through the horror and the existential dread of being in a gestalt, chose kindness anyway.

"Grudging respect". A jet doctor, a genius, and an ex-soldier MTO, who made the choice of helping people. An ex-Decepticon, too, no less.

See how it could've developed into something more?

Both eager to do their job, Ambulon is a perfect stabilizer for Pharma's general emotional response to things. He may be a good doctor, but he's prone to acting and saying things before really thinking about it. Ambulon is capable of convincing him and giving a good argument, without it being personal.

"Grudging respect" with Ambulon working with one of the best doctors out there, who's work is going to be invaluable even after his death.

And if things worked out differently? Do you think Ambulon wouldn't be there to sympathize with Pharma's trauma regarding DJD? Do you think Ambulon wouldn't pity Pharma for what Tarn put him through? Ambulon? The Decepticon who was there? The one who even should fear DJD the most? The one who might've even triggered DJD once he was so close on the radar?

He might've confided in Pharma in the first place, as someone literally second in charge after him.

Pharma and Ambulon are defying Adaptus as a societal concept, among with the existential idea of your shape dictating your purpose. And within the text they don't just defy, they end up suffering the most out of it - Pharma ends up in a position where his hands are praised more than he, as a person, is, Ambulon dies by these hands, and his death dooms Pharma as well.

I hope it was comprehensive enough, i WISH i could include more images to prove my point. The amica endura would've been insane. If only the circumstance was different.

[skullcfusher]

FIRST AND FOREMOST THIS IS NOT A CALL-OUT POST OR TO ATTACK ANYONE REMOTELY AT ALL!!!!

Buuuut I wanna speak a little about how I feel about the crp fandom, cuz a few things have been on my mind lately :P I just feel like there's kind of an unnecessary trend of hate happening or like, a crazy form of vague posting or whatever like people randomly going on about how they don't like a particular head canon, a particular creator, a particular ship, a particular way a character is being portrayed and so much more and inherently that's not bad, obviously when someone is erasing things like sexuality, ethnicity, disability, etc etc... like obviously that's a huge problem but my bone to pick isn't with those but just with smaller things like how a character is dressed, or they might act differently in someone's au and what not, and it's just like auuugghh how could you hate someone's creation soooo much that you gotta post about it??? Like nothing wrong with it, nothing hateful or offensive or taking away from anything like just something someone made and you're like gritting your teeth frothing at the mouth basically smashing your phone with how hard your typing in your phone like woaahh.. firsttt of all the didn't make that post for you, they didn't create their headcanons or au or Remotely anything with you in mind, you are not their target audience and they just wanna make things because they love the media and shit their working with and they just view it differently than you do and that's totally okay, you can't have a fandom this big with characters and stories put together so messy and not expect anyone to fill in the gaps of their stories or swap anything around, and really you can just not follow canon, like it's not illegal to do that and no one is a bad creator or artist for not following canon either, it's like we all have to publicly announce that we don't fw something when really if you don't like someone or something you can just not indulge in it like just block their page it's not that serious and again this doesn't include anything of serious matter like hateful discriminatory evil freaky erasure, like none of that but just the little things like dissing someone's au because they HATE the way a character looks like okay go make your own then like that's cool and then I'm going to see the difference between the way I make the character and you make your character and then absolutely fucking love it because I love seeing people create and I love seeing people think differently than I do, I will forever be a supporter of people who make things differently than me because like holy shit I never thought about it that way you freaking genius please tell me more I want to see more and I have to know about this, and I just wish we all could do that, I wish we all could enjoy each other's creations and make our own without having to tear each other down, like we're all in the same community why cant we all enjoy it together, there's no need for meaningless hate and evils why do that whyyy do that when we could support each other and uplift each other and love and share there's too much talent and personality in this fandom for us to constantly be at war with each other hehe okay peace

[whisperingmidnights]

Down Called the Night

Series: We Shall Become Monsters

Pairing: Azriel x reader

A/N: Nobody ask me what this is about, I've decided I don't really know. And the things I do know are a tad unsettling.

     The city of starlight did not sleep.

     The booming capital city sprawled beneath the endless, yawning dark, so brightly lit I could not escape it, not even with the curtains drawn. Nightly, I paced the length of the foot of my bed, heavy curtains drawn to block out the noise, my heart raced in time with the clicking of heels on cobblestone streets. By the time my eyes grew heavy enough for me to consider sleep, it was morning and my sister was at my door to help me dress for the day.

     True to her word, Feyre did not allow anyone to so much as breathe in my direction without my consent. She hovered at my elbow during the meals we took with the rest of her new companions, and every time she had to be up at that palace carved into the mountainside, someone ensured I was there too. Even that far north, the pale sunlight was too harsh for my eyes; while she trained with the brute that brought me here, I wandered the dimly lit hallways of this ancient house of stone.

     My searching yielded a wide variety of rooms with doors I could not open, their handles so cold I only dared touch them once. I could smell the magic pouring from the wood, the way it hummed against my skin in warning was deterrent enough. Once I found the library with its ever-crackling hearth, I stalled my mindless wandering to pour over centuries-old tomes, some yellowed and brittle with age. I feasted on an encyclopedia of poisonous plants I knew Elain would have loved, and absorbed what I could from a primer on healing. It was strange, the way their abilities could sometimes bypass biological differences, yet in the next breath could be rendered useless by the patient’s innate magic, dependent entirely on the species. For instance, nearly all water-based fae could not withstand any sort of cauterization or other fire magics, but a fire-based faerie might ingest up to a moderate amount of water without lasting negative effects.

     How strange it was, to view basic diagrams of faerie anatomy written for the fae to study, as opposed to the experiments performed by foreign surgeons to gain the barest shadow of an idea of how these creatures functioned. Creatures, could I truly continue calling them that if my sister had become one of them? Would I call Feyre a creature?

     No, never. She may have looked like them, moved like them, but in her heart she was not one of them. She was still good. I did not know what that made me, then. Something else, some other sort of monster. I didn’t allow myself to dwell on those thoughts, nothing good would grow in such soil.

     Reading was a good distraction, but not good enough that I forgot my surroundings. Every whistle of the wind or echo of doors opening and closing reverberating through the carved halls made me jump. I should not have been surprised the day the shadows began to move, but my blood ran cold when the first one flickered independently of the flame that cast it. Then it began to slither.

     I froze as it stretched across the table and wound like a viper towards me, ready to strike. My palms grew clammy against the ancient pages of the book as the shadow rose and coiled around itself, its form began to bob as it sat there, watching me as I watched it. How it looked puzzled me, but perhaps I should not have been surprised in a land such as this that the shadows could see without seeing. As we sat with one another, I remembered the darkness that had come to me on the stairs of my family’s home, how I had not been afraid then.

     But I’d had a sense of control then, hadn’t I? I’d been in my home where nothing had physically harmed me before. In Velaris, I controlled nothing, not even myself. I went where Feyre instructed. I only wandered the halls of this house because I’d been promised safety; and I’d only been permitted as far as this library. No matter how it was presented, a cage was a cage. I could not call my existence here freedom…but I had not come for freedom, had I?

     I had come for my sister.

     Then that serpent formed of shadow slithered onto my empty palm, and I forgot what it was to breathe. There was a heaviness to the shadow I hadn’t experienced before, and I could not tell if the rapid pulse against my palm was the beating of its invisible heart or merely an echo of my own. I exhaled a slow, shaky breath and it rose higher, stretching until we were nearly eye to shadowed eye. It smelled cold and damp, like the corner of a forgotten dungeon or water flowing beneath stone. I wanted to be repulsed by it, if I had been normal I would have been.

     Instead I drew closer until it brushed against my cheekbone like a kiss, sending a shiver down my spine that I refused to call a shudder.

     Then the door opened.

     I had expected my sister, or perhaps the High Lord that followed at her heels like an obedient pet. Instead, it was the winged male with hands so heavily scarred, I could not imagine withstanding the pain that came with such an injury. Dressed in black clothing seemingly designed for slipping in and out of the shadows, he appeared freshly washed and, once he drew closer, I smelled the faintest hint of a cologne I could only describe as cold and vaguely woodsy. The shadow in my hand twitched once before it flowed through my fingers like water and returned to its master, melting into the darkness wreathing him that danced like void-black flames.

     This male was not like the ones who called him brother. He reminded me of a beast prowling its cage. I got the sense that the bars of civility that held him would do nothing to dull the sharpness of his teeth or claws should he strike, and the unspoken promise of violence sang to something growing from the rot rooted deep within me, something I dared not look at for too long lest I dare find beauty in it. Then what would I do?

     It didn’t matter if I looked at that vile decay. In the end, he called to it all the same and I, like a moth, felt the pull toward that unholy fire.

     “Feyre requested I take you home,” he said after a nearly unbearable silence. I blinked back at him, unwilling to break the silence I’d shrouded myself in. His dark eyes danced over the books that littered the table and he took in the titles with an interest that did not feel feigned. Perhaps he was not the sort of male to waste his time with pleasantries, unlike the men who had pursued my sisters. They had been dull to the point of irritation. “If you aren’t finished reading, I can come back later. Or send someone else, if you prefer.”

     I shrugged and flicked the cracked cover of the book I had been reading shut. He came at the behest of my sister, meaning something must have come up and she trusted this male to see me home. Had she seen the way I’d watched him over dinner, or whenever he entered a room? He had been an endless source of fascination for me, as well as deep discomfort. Needing to move, I rose from my chair and the shadows flared in a way that might have been intimidating if they hadn’t reminded me so much of a fan of peacock’s feathers. I noted flecks of muted blue and purple within the black, lending depth to all that darkness. I suppose it took light to cast shadow, after all.

     “You have an interest in healing?” he asked and I gave an idle shake of my head. His eyes narrowed as he looked over the titles once more. I was inclined to speak, how could I tell him, or anyone, that piecing anyone back together never truly held my interest? The act of taking them apart, however, studying firsthand the way the body functioned: how muscle met bone, the way a still-beating heart would pump blood through the veins that fed each organ? I found that to be endlessly fascinating. My eyes drifted to the dark hilt of the blade at his side and traced the beautiful, brutal silver runes on the leather scabbard. It was, perhaps, the loveliest casing for a weapon I’d ever seen.

     How sharp was that blade honed? Did it slice through flesh and sinew like a hot knife through butter? Or was it merely decorative?

     When my gaze eventually wandered up the long line of his body and took in all of the muscle beneath the dark clothing, I decided a male who kept his physique so well-maintained was not likely to neglect his other weapons, either. By the time my gaze met his once more, the predatory gleam in them told me he’d taken measure of me as well.

     “No,” he said simply, the words falling from his lips like a promise made to a lover under the shroud of night. “Not healing, then.”

     A terrible smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, begging to be set free.

     “If you wanted to train with your sister-” I shook my head slowly and edged around the table, heading for the door. The moment I was within reach, his hand darted out to rest upon my wrist and I paused, looking up at him from beneath my lashes. He tried another angle. “If you wished to learn to defend yourself-”

     "I do not wish to learn how to fight a man,” I confessed, my voice rasping with the effort it took to break the silence I’d been so comfortable in. “I wish to know how to take one apart."

     “One might argue they’re almost the same thing. Cassian could teach you that,” he said so lightly as his copper-flecked eyes darted to my mouth and back. “So could I.”

     “Would you?”

     “Tell me why you want to know.”

     Why? Because some monstrous beast stole the other half of my soul away in the middle of the night and stripped her of her humanity- no, her mortality. Even now, Feyre had more humanity in her little finger than I possessed in my entire body. Because I wanted to know how to make them suffer and bleed in recompense for everything I might have been before the dark crept in and twisted what was left.

     “Because it interests me,” was all I said before I slipped away from him and strode through the door, the beating of my human heart a siren song that called to him from the cold, empty corridor I wandered down. Shadows stretched from the dark, unlit corners until they nipped at my heels like eager, disobedient pups. I finally unleashed that smile as I felt him there in the cover of dark, following in my wake. The steady beating of moth wings fluttered past my ear before I heard the brief sizzle of it barreling headlong into a nearby torch.

     How had the inferno felt before its life extinguished, how beautifully had it burned?

     Which of us would next fall prey to such glorious temptation?

     I emerged from the depths of the house onto the balcony we always landed on to discover the sun had long-since faded. This high up, I could see the way the streets glowed beneath an endless expanse of starlight and how the river curved so sweetly on its way towards the sea. It was enough to leave me breathless. Out here, I no longer felt the press of an invisible cage, but I did not feel free. Was that what I was seeking in the study of blood and flesh and magic, a sense of freedom? Or some modicum of control I had never truly possessed?

     When the male that haunted my heels stepped up to my side and offered me his hand, I knew the answer to one question. At the press of his bare palm against my own, I had the answer to another. There, in the heart of night, I stood on the precipice of something more. Within the rot that had begun to consume me, a delicate, growing thing began to bloom, and I smiled at the stretch of it. Slowly, tentatively, he smiled back, and I realized which of us would be the next to burn.

[keep-a-eye-out-for-this-scam]

Hello again,

Another lure that these Chuffed.org scam bots/scammers are using is hiding links behind text for example they might put "Chuffed: HERE" or any other donations website and under "Here" there is a line under the word or another example I been getting "PLEASE CAN YOU DONATE HERE?" also with a line under it.

This means there is a link attached to it. However, this feature on tumblr isn't 100% safe. As anyone can put any type of link behind it, including malware links of any kind of malware.

This is because Tumblr doesn't check the links that are attached to these messages,

For an example, there was bots going around stealing Tumblr Artists's art, putting them through a shady website since you can see a website linked to the reposted artwork and putting "Read more" under it with a link attached to it.

Many Palestine people and people in horrible situations who use Gofundme they put the gofundme page for everyone's view so people know they aren't going to get their banking information stolen, they never hide the link or page under other text as it can come off as shady due many bots and scammers/hackers have done it in the past.

This makes me think that these Chuffed.org scam bots/scammers might be using Banking Trojans links behind these texts.

If you don't know, Banking Trojans are malware designed to collect online banking credentials and other sensitive information from infected machines. This information, once exfiltrated to an attacker, can be used to steal money and commit other forms of fraud, such as identity theft.

Now, I don't have any proof of this since I'm not risking my computer getting a virus. However, I find it very shady that hiding links behind text and not giving a website link to a website. I think it's makes it pretty too obvious because other scam bots do put website links to shady websites, which get them a block and report in most cases. Also, people are catching on this scam, too, so giving them a website link might be out the window now. So hiding it makes it easier to scam people or people malware.

They are using a Genocide of Palestine, stealing Palestine people's photos and cries for help as a way to get victims because people will press the link or reblog it without a second thought.

If you do see it, please don't click on it. You don't know if it's a malware or a real website. Please block them!

[kotls-unveiled]

CHAPTER 1: The Police is Not Looking for me, obviously.

Oomph! Owwww... That hurt.. Pathfinders are hard... Anyway. I shook my head and sat up, scanning my surroundings. I think I'm in... What did dad vall this place again? The... United Kingdom? Yea! The United Kingdom! My feet found ground as I shakily stood up. I had landed in some sort of alley, a big tower was nearby with a clock on it. That was, if I remember correctly, big ben? Why would they name a clock...

Shaking my head, my feet moved forward to... Somewhere. I dunno. I paused for a moment and dug through the leather messenger bag dad had given me, pulling out a device called "tablet". It had this map application that elf tablets didn't need. Elves had pathfinders, so maps weren't really needed.

I clicked the application and it opened up to an aerial view of the location I was in. The tablet nearly slipped out of my hands. There was no way I could possibly read this. It was just a mess of green, blue, dark green, dark blue, and a bunch of names of places that I didn’t even know how to pronounce.

“Lon-dan?” I mumbled to myself, trying to remember what my father told me this place was called. It was smaller than I expected. Cramped, with so many more people than I dreamed of existing, walking around as if they hated the world. I was glad I landed in an alleyway; those people looked like there ready to argue with anyone, no matter what they did.

The air was was crisp and earthy; which was strange, since everywhere, it was paved. I pulled on my jacket as a gust of wind inundated my senses. It was too cold here. Only a few minutes, and I already missed the controlled temperatures of the Lost Cities. Of home.

I stepped out into the street. As if on cue, I felt raindrops on my head. Immediately, everyone around me started saying an unintelligible, angry string of words. I had the urge to do the same. I reached into my bag, digging around past my notebook to no avail. Oh Mallowmelt, I thought to myself. I forgot to bring that thing that blocks rain… What’s it called again? Oh! An umbrella!

Regardless, I couldn’t stay in an alley the entire time. I had a mission to do: to find the girl. I reached in my bag again, this time for my notebook. It was a simple, leather bound notebook. Small enough to fit in my bag that it wouldn't take up much space, big enough to write notes and doodle on without any problems. When I opened the notebook, my hands immediately started flying across the pages *“Strange world. Many people. Big tower with a clock that has a name (Why does it need a name?)“*

After, I shoved the notebook back into my bag and sauntered forward to finally start my quest. Hmmm, where should I start? The application was pretty useless, since it was just blobs of green and blue and names I couldn't pronounce. Right! I was surrounded by other people! I could ask them! My eyes immediately scanned for a person that I could talk to. I settled for an old woman with kind eyes that didn’t seem to busy.

I sprinted up to her, flattening myself against the outside of a store, eager to keep away from the rain. The woman didn’t notice me, so I sighed and abandoned my comfortable shelter to talk to her.

She smiled at me kindly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

She bent over to acomodate my lack of height. I nodded vigorously, finally glad to have someone to help me out. “I’m looking for a girl who can read minds. She’s two years younger than me.”

The woman laughed raucously. When she looked down to see me earnest, she shook her head. “Oh, you silly lad. People can’t read minds! Where would your parents be?”

I stumbled over my words as I spoke. “They’re busy.”

I tried to be convincing, but the woman was suspicious. “Are you in some sort of trouble? Is someone following you? Young lad, you need to come with me to the police station. They’ll get you all sorted out and home with your parents.”

My stomach churned. How do you explain to a human that actually you’re an elf and reading minds is normal and elves have existed a good long while until they cut off contact and went into hiding because humans become power hungry without tipping the delicate balance that was the world? I didn’t know, so I made a much more reckless decision. I ran.

My legs were too short to actually get very far, but the old woman only sighed and shook her head defeatedly at me, which I counted as a win. But I realized that whatever I was doing right now wasn’t working. Apparently, humans didn’t react too well to threatening their idea of science. So, I had to be subtler. But, as I stared at the massive, highly populated city in front of me, a fear that I was never going to find the girl washed over me.

I brought out my notebook, ducking into another alley to avoid splattering the pages with water. In possibly the messiest handwriting possible to elf, I wrote, *“Do not mention telepathic children. Humans will laugh and you and possibly call the police.”* I smiled, satisfied with my writing. I knew no one else could read it, even if they peered over to see what I was writing. The elven runes were a secret code that only I could understand. Though, they'd probably think I was weird.. Since humans are… Humans.

I shivered and rubbed my hands together, the cold raindrops finally soaking through my supposed to be thick coat. Even in the cold weather, I was determined. Sure, this mission had become a million times harder now that I’d actually met a human, but I had a plan and a goal, and that was more than enough.

—Luna and Alex

[isolaradiale]

POLICY UPDATE (02/02/25)

Hey everyone!

As it's the beginning of the month, we thought now would be a good time to make a few policy changes and reminders! Some of these changes are a direct result from the survey we ran at the end of last year, while others are all new!

GIANT CHALLENGE CHANGES

Going forward, challenges for ranking up to the Giant tier must be submitted by the member looking to rank up and won't be written by a staff member. You'll use a modified version of the original form to submit the challenge you'd like, and staff will either approve it or recommend changes if it wouldn't be feasible! This also applies to Hypergiant challenges.

This does not mean you need to write your own challenge concept, however. You could get a friend or someone else in the group that knows your character to either come up with something or help you brainstorm! We'll also be adding a new channel to the Discord server specifically for help, where members or staff could weigh in. There was a vocal minority of members who wanted the old system retained, so we hope this can serve as a middle ground.

Anyone who has not been issued a challenge that submitted the form before January 1st, 2025 is eligible to move up to Giant without completing a challenge. The requests we have in the box range from 3 months old to 7 months old, and so this is to make up for that wait since it wouldn't be fair to wait for months and then have to do the work themselves. If you have a challenge you've been given that you haven't done, you'll still have to do it, but you could also apply for a new challenge using the new system instead. If you are eligible to move up without completing a challenge but would still like one, you're free to submit your own under the new system instead. Either way, please send us a message so that we have it on record that you chose to rank up on your own or not.

GENERAL POLICY CHANGES

We will now accept other Tumblr RP blogs as OOC contact so long as they meet the following requirements: they aren't affiliated with Isola already AND they have at least six months worth of posts on the blog. We've also been accepting Bluesky contacts since the end of last year and will continue to do so.

There is no longer a penalty for losing a character if you have more than 10. Slots 11 and 12 aren't being used enough by the general member base to justify having the additional penalties, so we've decided to remove those penalties.

If you find yourself having complaints about another member of the group - and these complaints cannot be solved by simply unfollowing / blocking that member - it needs to be sent off-anon going forward so these cases can be properly investigated and resolved, and so we know who to follow up with! We'd like to discourage people using the masterlist inbox as a place to put complaints and concerns that can't be worked through properly, but we do want to make sure genuine concerns are taken seriously.

We've removed the age section off of the application form as the group is currently 18+. We will be adding a reminder that the group is 18+ on the forms page itself instead, and if you join as someone under the age of 18 and we find out, you will be permanently banned.

OOC POSTING & TAGS

In November we made a post about group etiquette so we'd like to remind you guys to read it here! We're specifically still having issues with members going back and forth in quick succession on the dashboard by posting and reblogging posts that would not qualify as IC under the guidelines in that post. As a related reminder, shortform posts without formatting, like this example, are not considered IC regardless of the tag used. This is so it makes clearer if something should be reacted to ICly from a member point of view, as well as easier for staff to tell if a post is IC or not (especially if replied to by another member for the activity check).

We've added a new official tag: #isola things. Please use this if you're just making a silly or commentary post that doesn't actually reflect something your character could be canonically thinking or doing in the group! Think things that you would usually use "crack" tags for. These do not count as IC posts however, and we ask that you do not do reply chains with them. Remember that the #isola dash commentary tag also exists for commentary specific to what's happening on the dashboard!

In a related point, we'd like to ask everyone to please do not use the term "crack" to tag or describe posts that would fall under the above point. While we understand it has commonly been used in RP communities for years, we want to be considerate of the drug-based implications of the term and those who may be made uncomfortable by it being in a commonly used tag.

We have added a new page to the masterlist that lists all of the tags, their uses, and whether or not posts in that tag count towards activity. You can find this page here! You can also find it on the important links page, where we have removed the old tags category beneath it. We ask everyone gives it a read, as there as been some confusion lately regarding what should or shouldn't be tagged as commentary.

Going forward, we'd like to ask members to begin using the "reply" button underneath an OOC post if you need to weigh in rather than reblogging it! That way you can still have your OOC back and forth conversations without cluttering the dash for others! We're looking to strike a balance between letting everyone have their fun while also being more respectful to members who may find it frustrating to sift through OOC posts!

POLICY REMINDERS

For characters that require specific accommodations to survive, these items will always be provided in the group setting. If they require a specific type of food to live or maintain their body (blood, oil, etc.) or even a medication, it can be found within the group setting. You can choose to either forage it or buy it in stores, whatever is most convenient for you! If your character needs a specific accommodation in terms of things like prosthetics, wheelchairs, medications, etc. please include them on your app!

-- the island stars.

[runa-falls]

cat and mouse - 4

summary: every time you try to convince people it was an accident, you immediately get ratted out to the Spider. but really, it was! you don't know why you're being hunted, you didn't even do anything wrong. except, now you did...

warnings: angst, short chapter

w/c: ~1k

a/n: this gif but mig and reader -- i've been busy with a bunch of other fics/blurbs and i've been out of town so i haven't been writing as much. i know i've been neglecting my miguel o'hara fics but i just haven't been very inspired lately

part 1 part 2 part 3

masterlist

----

“This you?” Your eyes squint at the newspaper.

He’s practically shoving it in your face. 

You were once again swept away against your will and taken to the top of a building. This time from the middle of the street as you were making your way to a sandwich shop a block or so from Feli’s. You desperately needed something to subdue that horrible acidic feeling of a hangover. 

It’s already 3 o’clock, but the ache in your bones has only worsened, not to mention your irritated attitude.

You don’t get why Spider-Man couldn’t have just met you at a coffee place. In fact, coffee is just what you need right now. 

“Hm, I don’t think so. I’ve never been to…Mama Jane’s pizzeria.” He flips it over and realizes he turned to the wrong page. 

“Dammit,” He ruffles through the paper then turns it back around. “No, this.”

The headline is hard to miss: ‘Mysterious ‘twin-kissers’ break into the Nueva Bank of America’

You scrunch your nose, “Twin-kissers? They really couldn’t have chosen a better name?”

“What’re you doing blasting holes into buildings?” 

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean’?!” 

“Ok, ok, chill.” Your head is already pounding from the night before, and his impatient tone isn’t helping. “Calm down. Or at least be a little quieter”

“Calm down? You’ve got the whole PDNY after you! You’re lucky they have shit cameras at banks or you’d be toast.” 

You ignore him and walk over to the edge of the roof. You don’t want to look at him right now. Or have him look at you. 

“Please, as if the PDNY has caught anyone without your help.” 

“That’s not the point!”

There’s a ghost of a feeling itching the back of your mind reminding you how you used to have a horrible fear of heights before the accident.

Now, you wouldn’t even care if you fell and smashed into the pavement like a moldy pumpkin. You’d actually welcome it.

Your head already feels like it’s about to implode, so why not speed up the process?

It wouldn’t happen anyway. Spider-Man is with you. He’s too good, he wouldn’t let it happen no matter how many banks you blow up.

You sit down on the ledge, letting your legs hang over the bustling city below. 

He sighs, god he’s dramatic. “Look, Blaze.” That name. That dumbass name that started it all. You look up at him, eyes tired – body tired. “I just want to know why you’re acting like this. We both know this isn’t you.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. We? There’s a we?

It’s your turn to sigh. 

You look back down at the street below you, under your idly swinging chucks. Little people living their little lives, always on their way to or from somewhere. With purpose.

Your purpose blew up alongside the reactor. 

“You don’t even know me, Spider-Man.” 

“Miguel.”

“Spider-Man.” You tilt your head upwards and look at the skyline, the world around you. A view you can only see from a certain height. What he’s always looking at. What he’s trying to protect? 

You turn to him and he’s looking at you, standing tall next to your seated body. You hate how he looks down on you even though you put yourself in this position. 

But it’s not just him, it’s everyone. The world’s against you and you have no idea how to fight back. 

“What’s changed?”

“What, you thought this little charade of cat and mouse would go on forever? That I would be your little villain-of-the-week my whole life?” 

He shakes his head then softly says your name. Your actual name. You haven’t heard it since you’ve turned into this…monster. “I mean, what’s changed between us?” 

“There is no us.” You mean to spit it out, lay it on him like acid on paper, push him away, but you only sound defeated. Done. “There was one kiss fueled by adrenaline at the height of a heist – well, an attempted heist – and now there’s this.” You let the words settle into the silence. “A Spider-Man and a girl.” 

You hear him approach and take a seat next to you, but you don’t look over. His skin-tight blue and red suit contrasts sharply with the pale rust of the brick, and even more, the dirty grey of the pavement down below. 

“I don’t believe that.”

You scoff, staring at the cars, taxis, and buses stopped at a traffic light. It’s easier to look at the red light than his concerned crimson eyes. You’re scared you’ll betray yourself and get lost in them again. Lost in him. Because you know this time, you won’t hold back. 

 “You don’t have to believe anything. It is what it is.” 

“No, see I don’t get it. You were never a villain, barely even a criminal, but because of some words, some stupid narrative, you’re trying to be someone you aren’t.  Because it’s the easy way out.”

Your head snaps to him, “Easy? You think this is easy?”

“I think you’re letting yourself get pulled into a life that isn’t yours. I-I’m sca–...concerned you’re going to lose yourself.” That I’m going to lose you.

It sits unspoken in the air and fizzes against your skin. You decide it’s… uncomfortable.  

You think about how you got to this point. The fear and betrayal that had you bobbing for apples in that vat of fluid, the instant rejection you received from the city once you got out, the push and pull that you’ve had with Miguel, and the first real friend you’ve ever had, Feli. 

She’s a criminal, that’s for sure, but she’s always had your back. Helped you to embrace the new you. How could you deceive her and take what was once hers? 

You get up without another word. There’s nothing to decide, you already know what you need to do. You make your way to the door leading to the stairs. 

“Blaze…”

“We don’t owe each other anything, Spider-Man. Just get out of my way and watch the city burn.”

[joyful-witch]

Besties I strongly dislike Scott Cawthon but the fnaf movie was good and I’m annoyed that it was good. Like. The joy I felt watching the movie (and also cried like twice cus it hit way too close to home as an older sibling) is unparalleled. But also. Scott Cawthon is an awful person and supports people who want me dead? And also doesn’t believe women should have the right to basic medical care? And. My feelings are so conflicting rn. I want to separate my love for the series from Scott Cawthon. But if I did that I wouldn’t be any better than HP fans.

I think it’s okay to have these complicated feelings and talk about them. I’m still trying to figure it out myself?

I guess the big difference between JKR and Scott is that he avoids talking about his opinions and the only reason we know these things is due to his voting record and who he gives money to (which btw I don’t believe donating to lgbt charities makes up for voting for the party that wants to commit genocide against us. It’s still shitty. Like yay he’s donating to the Trevor project but also. Damn voting for these people that want us to not have rights and don’t want us to be alive really hurts).

He is still actively harming the community. Even if he isn’t outwardly spewing hateful rhetoric (unless he’s gotten worse. Or unless his opinions have rapidly changed over the past couple of years. If so please feel free to correct me, just not without sources).

But his series has basically transcended his control. It’s not controlled by him. It’s controlled by the fans. Half the shit that’s canon now wouldn’t be canon without the fans and it’s this big collaborative effort and that’s what’s so beautiful about it. Unlike jkr whose views and specifically racism are baked into her properties.

But he still gets money from it.

And he could be using that money to support some really awful people.

Idk. It’s complicated.

I don’t like or support Scott Cawthon. But I love fnaf. I grew up with it. I love the community. And it really influenced my love for horror media. And gods this movie was great. I had such a good time watching it.

I don’t know what point I’m trying to get at.

I guess I’m just sorta venting.

It sucks loving something when it’s creator who actively gains money from it supports some truly awful people.

I want to be able to put my feelings aside so I can joyfully rant about this movie without mentioning “gosh I wish Scott wasn’t involved” but that obviously isn’t the case.

I don’t expect any response to this post. Im just sorta putting my feelings out there into the void. And if someone relates I hope they know they aren’t alone.

And if you’re gonna say something hateful or something that outwardly supports conservatives I will gladly block you. There is no excusing the active genocide being perpetrated by the Republican Party against the queer community, but more specifically trans people. And if you support that then you can gladly get the fuck off my page. I will not tolerate bigotry.

Also don’t harass anyone mentioned in this post. I really don’t want their fans to harass me and don’t want them to have a reason to. I’m not very popular but last time I posted about Scott I got a bunch of death threats from a bunch of middle aged white men and trolling teenagers. And I do not have the mental capacity to deal with that right now. I’m dealing with a nasty bout of Covid and a nicely sized second degree burn from a cooking accident on top of my chronic illness I don’t need to be harassed.

K thanks bye

[overtaken-stream]

C0ok Me a Meal, Make Me Starve.

Akutsu Nagisa x Gn!Artist!Reader

This goes out to all 5 Akutsu fans bc I love jerks. + It's been a while since I've read Ao Ashi and I apologize for any mischaracterization. Akutsu is one of my favorite characters in the whole wide world of sports manga/anime. Also, it's a self-insert which I feel slightly embarrassed about and It's my experience as an artist. If you find any pronouns that aren't gn please feel free to correct me.

Warnings: Negative self-talk, artist pain, art block(?)

He's somebody that you would consider closest to you, an individual who one would not consider describing with pleasing words, he looks ragged like a cheap brush on all sides sealed with plastic and packed in a tight box, his personality dry, in need of honey water. The long lips spew honesty like no man you've seen, it drags the pigment picked by the brush across a thin paper, dooming it to dissolve under the colors.

He carries no kindness in him. Is what one would say, without knowing more than the outer layer of the said individual. You on the other hand would say that he emits honesty with no kindness. Some would describe truth without empathy as brutality.

His rugged exterior is a shell that you're able to barely imitate on a piece of paper, the pencil sketches of the defender (that are nowhere near good enough compared to the real example) cover the pages of a notebook, messily erased pencil routes divide and combine to create what you consider to be the best replica among other failed poses and portraits that're left unfinished.

You sit alone on a bench, outside the practice domain of footballers, with knees touching under the uniform as the gentle breeze of spring dances in the meadows, carrying with it the sounds of laughter and gazes of interest, all directed at the field where ball means the world to boys with big ambitions.

Among them lies the prey to your infatuation. Your observing eyes are left overlooked between the other groups crowding around the fence, it lays low as the sportsmen exercise, and the scratches of pencils go unheard by anyone who isn't looking directly at them.

Erasers are doing a poor job of concealing blunders, little missteps that continue to pile up as time passes and whistles blow. They stay, becoming a part of something you never wanted it to be a part of, unnerving eyes stare at the scratchy lines. The sounds around you flatten, continuing as the pencil rests between your fingers, shouting comes from behind the fence signaling the start of the game, however, the world is subtle, and blurry colors of the background slowly disappear from your view, until the notebook and you remain. A notebook whose pages contain countless figures of one particular fellow, in all the directions you could manage to witness. A slow sigh leaves your lips as you turn the pages.

One page;

Two;

Three.

The ringing in your ears picks up its intensity, heartbeat fastens.

It's hard to put the feelings into words, the bubble of disdain that engulfs you only shrinks as you think. Why is it that you are lacking? Was it the months that went by with the notebook collecting dust on the cover? Forgotten on a shelf with the same pencils that await you? Was it the texture or have you finally reached the deep end? Is it alright for you to blame the school for your idleness?

The tip of the pencil drags down the side of the paper, it leaves a lame stripe behind.

Are you an artist? If you are, then why can't you draw a line? Why is it so hard to even the space between the eyes? Why is the jaw drawn the way it is? Why is it that cheeks seem high and mouth too low? Why the thick lines? Why are those ugly features consistent in your art while the beauty and inspiration of others, that you try to sow in your style always fade away?

You conclude. Akutsu is beyond your skills to portray, even if he was the person who pushed you out of your art block, who motivated you to pick up the pen again, who you proceeded to sketch when the lesson was too monotonous to pay any attention to. He'll never know of your thoughts, you hope he'll never know, after all, Akutsu was never one to meddle in others' privacy too much. There's a line friends don't cross and Akutsu makes sure to never stay too close to it, for too long.

There should be boldness inside of you, and ambition to pursue art more, but the countless lessons and rules of reality, of adulthood leave no fuel for effectiveness to take place. Your notebook eats away at you, spitting nothing but guilt on the way, years of work and practice are slowly slipping through the gaps of muscle.

It's painful losing yourself, betraying it for something you're not even sure brings you happiness on this planet. It's a simple wish to be bold, more angry, like Akutsu, to prove something and be someone who does one thing expertly. but it seems so far away from you, who did nothing as the light of ambition gave out somewhere along your development.

You wish you had a heart like Akutsu, forever shackled by hobbies he'll never get tired of. But as always, there is a welded fence in between, keeping a distance, thus forever dooming you to goggle over a man you admire.

Is it love? Why does it not feel like it? Are you in love? No... Or are you? It's a question you will not know the answer until you spend more time with the fellow. Even then, you're certain of the rejection. This one-sided obsession will only be a negative trait, that will prove just how unacceptable your behavior truly is. An eerie attitude towards (who you consider) your friend, could only give birth to a quicksand of shame that'll swallow you whole before ever confessing your feelings.

A loud chatter of voices infiltrates your depressive bubble, slowly yet sharply passing by your eardrum until the gloaming atmosphere you got lost in fades away. With no extra weight, the air seems easier to take in. The colors slowly bleed back into your vision as the wind blows gently across your school uniform.

With a clear head, you stare at the unfinished draft presented on the paper, all with shaven heads and tense looks. The silhouette of number four adorns their chests and stretches over the fold of a football uniform like a prize, all in different positions. Where you're sitting, everyone would guess his identity. Nervousness aside, you should leave before anyone calls you out for being a creep.

Even if you forgot to take into account that the crowd has disappeared, only few remain to watch the players do their post-game stretches, you're unsteady, fearful of the hidden eyes. Gathering the energy to stand up and trying not to mind the electric pain that sprouts through your knee is becoming harder and harder to conceal every time you stand, legs demand exercise but your hands hold the evidence, persuasion of a dream you're trying to relive using the digits you were born with.

By the time you close the two halves of the notebook a hand lands on your head, it relaxes between your hair, heavy and bigger than average, their fingers are separated, thumb lands on your temple as the middle finger touches your forehead from behind. Its grip strengthens for a couple of seconds before letting go of the pressure and tension lifts off of your shoulders, the rough grasp it had left behind slightly messy strands for you to fix. You can't bring yourself to correct it.

``Where do you think you're going?`` The flat voice would send butterflies in your belly if it weren't for the expression adoring the holder's face, stable and shielded, anger is nowhere to be seen. You scramble for words to answer him.

``Don't tell me you were leaving.`` Because of course, you would forget that the reason why you were here in the first place, was to wait for him. He with a blue uniform and a heavy bag on his shoulder that has nothing but hard work to show.

His long eyes stare down at you with sharpness, awaiting your answer.

``I was... Trying to stretch my legs, I spent a lot of time sitting and watching you... A-and your team play y'know.`` so much yous in one sentence. How does The Akutsu deal with you...?

His eyes close before letting out a loud sigh. Akutsu must be annoyed, in his shoes you would certainly be if a friend almost left and forgot about you.

``C'mon, let's go.`` His voice is much softer as your eyes watch him turn without looking back, however before he can call out once again, you follow after his lead, walking just behind him. Akutsu was never a patient man.

You stare at his back as you always do, wondering, eyeing. If only he knew how much you think of him every day, dreaming about scenarios that have almost no chance of coming true, with a speedy heart and red hue to your face. Maybe he knows but doesn't tell. In that case, you're thankful for his company, you merely wish you had the bravery needed for this type of stuff. Tolerance if your specialty.

His broad shoulders stop and so do you.

``So.`` confusion overtakes your features as his face slowly turns back to you, a soft grin in tow.

``Where to now?``

Oh. You were the one who wanted to go somewhere weren't you? The amount of time it takes for you to open your lips for an answer, his eyebrow is already raised. You just keep digging your own grave.

Even trying to remember it is difficult, the title of the place is blurry, and the way to it is unreachable. How irresponsible of you.

``I... Forgot, the places name...`` Embarrassment is an emotion you know inside and out. It's a word that describes all of your interactions outside of family members. It's what you feel as you watch his small smile die. You turn to another word that has made home in your vocabulary.

``... I'm sorry.`` disappointed is what you are, in yourself. Surely Akutsu must also be let down, the time you guys spent together is becoming rare these days, and memories are coming to be cherished.

``You seem out of it today, you're alright?`` Akutsu has never had a filter.

``Oh, yeah, it's just...`` That you have been crossing my mind for a couple of days, you are all I think about as I draw a male figure, you are making me blush each instant I replay our moments together where you showed me little bits of yourself.

The excuse that stumbles out of your mouth is a lie you don't even believe in.

``You're a terrible liar.`` Neither does he.

``...`` A sweat travels down your cheek, carrying with it a shiver that dismisses comfort, the color red blooms over your face.

``... Sorry.`` You wonder if you can love someone despite feeling uncomfortable with yourself.

``Stop saying sorry. It's getting on my nerves.`` Barely are you able to hold in another apology as chasms of anxiety overtake your mind, swiftly seeping into your fingertips and making them shake with heartbreak. His harsh words are no foreign from a jab in the heart, making the muscle twist itself as your ribs fail to defend it from your mind. Your tongue is dry, lips are fixed in a line. So ruthless.

As always, you don't have a tongue, it's deep in your stomach somewhere hiding from the real world.

A soft exhale is heard as he straightens his back.

``Have you eaten yet?`` His eyes turn to the road ahead before continuing to move, your body moves along with him, never showing the hurt his harsh demeanor brings. Your silence is accepted as an answer.

``I have some leftovers we can eat.`` He always has ingredients lying around waiting for you to come over so they can be cooked. Never can he find any leftovers to warm up and eat. It's a harmless lie, a manner he developed when you slipped into his life. A simple gesture that he only shares with you. Seeing you enjoy his cooking is pleasing.

``... Alright...`` He doesn't want you to hide away, doesn't want you to apologize for being messy and clumsy. It's a dance he knows by heart, a dance you are not even acquainted with.

He hopes that someday you acknowledge it.

[winterwitch-trash]

"The calm after the storm."

Author's Note: Excuse the mini - break on this story. I just hit a major writer's block and I was not happy with what I had written so I kept going over it until it was perfect. So we're looking at 4 pages of pure fluff. Happy reading ladies <3

Summary: Rumlow is dead, and the threat posed by the HYDRA mob ceased. Bucky and Odette get away for a much needed holiday, where they get the surprise of their life.

Word Count: 1.815

Chapter Warnings: Absolutely nothing BUT fluff and sweet moments because we all desperately need them after our girl went through hell..

In the days that followed after Rumlow’s demise at the hand of Odette, Bucky and the rest of the Barnes Clan, kept on waging the war on HYDRA sympathizers. Word had gotten out that Brock Rumlow, the head of HYDRA was dead, so it caused quite a stir amongst the mob clans across the city. Some could say that this was a prime example of what awaited anyone who even dared thinking of crossing Barnes. Half of the smaller mobs that were operating in the city were contemplating their allegiances; most of them decided to side with the Barnes Clan while others would still side with HYDRA.

Odette decided to simply take it easy and just focus on herself. No need for her husband to worry about her going out, especially now that Rumlow’s supporters would be out for blood. She just couldn’t go through this kind of pain again. Instead, she would just work from home until this whole situation smoothed out. There was only one request from her that Bucky made sure to fulfil and that was to keep the innocent civilians out of harm’s way. Some would say that the awful predicament she had found herself in the past weeks would have awakened some kind of monster within her. But no. She just preferred to hold on to her humanity. And Bucky felt immense relief to see that she was slowly coming back to her old self. Sure, the scars still served as a reminder that he didn’t protect her, but she took it upon herself to show him that she was doing better day by day. Of course eventually she returned to her business activities, only this time she would make sure to take Clint and Nat with her. They were her friends so she was trusting them completely. Not that Bucky didn’t. He was the one to suggest them taking over her protection.  And they accepted without a second thought.

So for the weeks that followed, Bucky devoted himself managing devastating blows against allies of HYDRA, effectively making a statement that whoever dared cross the Barnes Mob would suffer grave consequences. That was enough for the smaller mobs to pledge allegiance to him… However Odette could see that this was taking a toll on her husband… And she didn’t like that. Maybe a small getaway was what they needed. Just the two of them. No interruptions. Just them, and a magical view of the Eiffel Tower or wherever she chose. Bucky was hesitant at first, not because he didn’t want to spend some quality time with his wife, but because he didn’t want to have any unwanted visitors…

“I know you want to be here and be in charge of the whole operation love, but even you need some rest…” She whispered kissing his jaw, as they laid there in front of the fireplace, just enjoying a long overdue embrace.  The brunette found himself leaning into her touch, contemplating on whether he should just take her away for the next two or three weeks. “I love you for trying to take care of me. Just give me until the end of this week, and then we can go wherever you wish. How’s that sound?” He proposed looking down at her fondly, a sweet smile briefly playing on his face.

Well, the idea wasn’t so bad, Odette thought to herself… “Of course. I have appointments with Dr. Raynor too for this week, so…” She finally agreed. As for the brunette, he kept thinking of the progress she had made over the course of the past few weeks. He knew she was doing everything she could to come back to her former self and it would be an awful lie to say that he wasn’t proud of her. Odette noticed how he was looking at her, and she wondered what could be going on inside Bucky’s mind. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked him timidly. Sometimes, it was  still hard for her to comprehend how he could take in her scars and not run the other way.

There was a simple answer to this question. “I love you.” He whispered tightening his arms around her.  Three simple words from him were enough to cause a small blushing crawl on her cheeks. As she stared up at him, she realized that this was what she missed the most; sharing loving touches in front of the fireplace. Why was it that in this moment she began wondering what it’d feel like to have a little girl running around?

 Such a thought warmed her heart… But she wasn’t sure if he would be willing to entertain the idea of starting a family given the kind of work he did… If his enemies were to find out that there was a little girl, they would do anything in their power to hurt her and he wouldn’t bear that thought… No. He needed his wife more than anything. Despite the horrific ordeal she suffered, she managed to turn things around, even if there were days that she was lost in her on thoughts.

“I love you too…” She muttered capturing his lips in a slow, tentative kiss to which Bucky was eager to reciprocate in the same manner; he kissed her back with no sense of urgency. But soon the need for air became apparent, forcing her to break away, snuggling against his side, while he ran his fingers through her long ginger locks, listening to her heartbeat evening out, signaling that she had fallen asleep. And he couldn’t contain his excitement for the mini getaway in a few days. She deserved it after all.

Over the next days, he made sure to spend as much time with the woman he loved, sharing lazy mornings with her, showering her with small gifts. Odette couldn’t get enough of this side of him. She also let him know that she appreciated everything he did for her. But deep down, there was an unpleasant feeling that nagged at her. HYDRA lost her leader, and there was no retaliation? Something didn’t feel right about this… But she didn’t want to ruin the good mood. After all, her husband had everything under control.  

And so, they found themselves in a cozy hotel suite in Paris, enjoying the most spectacular view of the city, and in the distance, one could make out the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Bucky was shirtless and asleep, while Odette took in the beautiful scenery, wrapped up in a thin blanket, a mug of warm chocolate resting beside her. 

The mobster soon stirred awake, yet when he reached for his wife, he was only met with an empty spot. Quick to throw a pair of black boxers, he soon noticed her figure by the large window, but she didn’t seem to sense his presence behind her; only when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, she grinned widely. “I didn’t mean to wake you up…” She trailed off before she turned to face him. This disheveled look he was sporting suited him so well… “Oh, you didn’t doll, don’t worry.” The man responded, placing his lips over her neck, causing goosebumps to erupt all over her body. “I never thought I’d get the opportunity to witness this..” She said gesturing to the scenery around them. Light sheets of snow and dimly lit streets made it seem like the place jumped out of some sort of magical fairy tale. “I promised you I would give you everything… And I meant it.” Bucky replied, cupping her face, drinking in her beauty.  Odette simply offered him a smile, unable to come up with words. The way he was treating her made her heart thrum a little faster inside her chest.

It was like they were living a second honeymoon. The rest of their getaway was spent with them locked in the bedroom, engrossed in the throes of passion, exchanging soft, explorative kisses, and when they were not pressed up against each other, they were enjoying the city, visiting museums and indulging the best food Paris had to offer. Until everything changed. Odette had exhibited symptoms of dizziness, nausea that wasn’t going away… Despite her assurances to him that it was nothing, Bucky was not taking any chances with it. So he arranged a flight back to Brooklyn, and immediately he asked for the best medical staff to be brought to the mansion. This had to be kept under wraps since he didn’t wish for the media to pick up on it. Odette was slightly put off that the mini getaway had to be cut short, but she understood. Had it been any other woman, she would have caused major drama. But not her, and that was what Bucky appreciated in her.

Seeing the couple back in the mansion alarmed everyone of course, but the doctors had explained that it was nothing to be worried about. Bucky didn’t pay attention to anything since he was quick to join his wife in their bedroom, curious to know what she had to tell him.

“You shouldn’t worry too much sweetheart.. You’ll get wrinkles if you keep freaking out like this..” Odette teased, seeing the agitation painted in her husband’s face.

To that, Bucky rolled his eyes. “You know I can’t not worry when it comes to you doll.. What did the doctor say?” He asked noticing the playful glimmer in her eyes.  She was up to something for sure, and he didn’t know how to react.

“I’m alright.. In fact I’m more than alright love..” She grinned, resting her palm over her stomach. Now, that gesture did not go unnoticed by the brunette mobster. “Um, doll?” He shot her an inquisitive glance, not daring to utter the words in fear of it being a mean joke. He did notice of how she was glowing but he never really thought much of it; he always believed that it was the result of her beauty routines that she performed from time to time.

But no… It was a different kind of glow.

“The doctor said that we are in perfect health…” She trailed off, not wanting her bubbling emotions to cloud her voice. “We..?” He enquired further, until she nodded, a stray tear flowing down her cheek. “I’m pregnant…” She affirmed, before she felt his lips pressing against hers. “You’ve made me the happiest man on this earth.. You and our little princess in there…” He whispered, trailing kisses across her features and down to her stomach, the sweetest words leaving his mouth. “I love you already little one..” He muttered before pulling his wife into his arms, feeling the happiest he’s ever been.

“We love you too daddy…” Odette grinned back, laying in his arms content. Bucky was going to be the most loving father… She was sure of it.

@world-of-aus It's so fluffy I wanna die. I want to hear your thoughts on the chapter now it's complete.

[wheelerpilled]

Reminder that if you're pro-israel block me. Dni. Or even if you are remaining neutral!!!!!! 🇵🇸

There is a genocide still ongoing! Read this post before interacting with my page as it's important.

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And no. By supporting Palestine I don't mean supporting Hamas.

I mean supporting the civilians who have been bombed, killed, and displaced by Israeli attacks. The innocents who are being slaughtered. Those who are the victims in this horrific genocide.

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Block me if you remain neutral. I just can't fathom how anyone can remain on the fence after hearing about the one-sided onslaught in Gaza. Stand with Palestine or stay away from my page as you are not welcomed here. Please, if you don't know alot about the situation that well- ATTEMPT to educate yourself! It is not an excuse to remain neutral due to not knowing the extent of the situation. The resources are readily available.

Sorry if this sounds blunt, my intentions are just in support of spreading awareness for Palestine.

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here is a link to a useful masterpost of ways you can educate yourself about Palestine and support them.

Please take a look.

While most of us sit privileged and comfortable there is a GENOCIDE ONGOING. This is not meant to be rude or come across as aggressive. it is just a fact. Alot of people (including myself) will probably (and hopefully) never have to firsthand experience such horrors that Palestinians are going through. the fact that innocent people, including innocent CHILDREN AND INFANTS are suffering in such unimaginable ways is vile. it's heartbreaking how cruel the situation is.

I am forever grateful that I am not in such a horrible situation and it's so important that we never take it for granted, so please, all of us can contribute in some way shape or form, no matter how small it may seem. Every contribution helps. Even if it's supporting in free ways without donating.

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Remember to DO YOUR CLICK EVERYDAY. IT TAKES A SECOND AND IT IS FREE.

-i understand some people can't donate. But there is no reason not to take a moment to CLICK A BUTTON everyday. Everything adds up and helps.

even if you don't, just remember to engage with any pro-palestine posts you come across in your feed. Please, spread awareness no matter how you do it. Educate yourself and others on what's happening in the world and about the conflict if you are able to.

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Yes I am aware I'm a ST blog, a show of which has Zionist cast members- I would like to make it clear now that I do NOT align myself with such vulgar and cruel views and neither should you!! I have no respect for Brett Gelman, Noah Schnapp or ANY other Zionists. I pirate any content I wish to watch from big streaming sites and I will not be streaming ST5 on Netflix or funding a subscription that will benefit Zionists. I won't shame anyone for doing otherwise but I advise people to look into alternative ways of seeing content... especially content of which could POTENTIALLY fund Zionists!!!

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That's all, thank you- please remember to stand with and support Palestine 🇵🇸🇵🇸.

[soupfilledbrain]

HEY! Welcome to my blog! Here’s some things you should know before interacting with my page. :]

Mwe or Yve

21 years old

NSFW PAGE!!

FTM

He/him (she/her ONLY in kink)

In a relationship

DMs are open but I’m the worst texter ever so pls don’t take it to heart if I don’t respond.

NO MINORS ALLOWED NO MINORS ALLOWED!! ONLY VIEW MY PAGE IF YOU ARE ABOVE 18!! I BLOCK MINORS!!

I am a trans man. My pronouns are he/him. I interact with a lot of content that conflicts with my identity but in no way does it reflect my ACTUAL gender expression or identity. I ask that you always please respect that I am a man and am uncomfortable with any feminine terms outside of kink.

I am also in a closed relationship. Please respect my partner and I’s boundaries and know that some things I will not be comfortable to engage in or do out of respect for them. Do not bring them into our kink discussion please.

As you probably figure, this is a NSFW PAGE. I do interact with content that may be triggering for some, I ask that you take care of yourself and please check through this list of content before you scroll any further:

Some not safe content I engage with:

Detrans, Misgendering, force fem

Misogyny

Hypnosis, brainwashing, dumbification

R*pe play, non AND dub con, as well as somno

Intox, being drugged or under the influence

Breeding, pregnancy, oviposition/egg laying, ABO, lactation, etc.

Occasional gore

etc, not excluding some dark and heavy topics, so please be mindful.

None of these kinks reflect my actual real world views!!

It goes without saying I support lgbtqia+, women’s rights and the right to have an abortion. None of these are debatable and if any bigotry finds my page you will be blocked immediately.

Keeping that in mind, always take breaks and feel free to block me if any of these are harmful to you! I am not hurt, I just don’t want to bother anyone :3

If you are worried, some kinks you will NEVER SEE on my page and are on my DNI, include:

Scat or Vomit

GENUINE ACTS of doxxing/exposure/stalking/ etc. please stay out of my business.

Death or snuff

Beastiality/zoos/k9 (if you interact with me and you have content on your page that reflects this, I will block you)

Anything involving minors (if you interact with me and you have content on your page that reflects this, I will block you)

As well as other content not listed. You are free to ask if it isn’t specified here!!

As always, feel free to reach out to me if you are confused of some things listed here! I am generally friendly and like talking about a lot of things outside of kink! :D

Thank you for taking the time to read! Have a lovely day!