#from friends to enemies to lovers

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

[criminalamnesia]

Stay

warnings: enemies to friends, hinted enemies to lovers, Tyler’s sister!reader, mean!scott, bickering, very real tornado danger, mentions of a car crash and physical injuries, not proofread, f!reader

summary: the three time you see storm par’s one and only scott, including the one in which he saves your life.

author’s note: look at me, finally writing something again! I’ve been extremely busy and, truthfully, in a writers slump. I started writing this after seeing twisters, and I just got the motivation to come back and finish it. I’ve been obsessed with this man since that movie, and good lord do we need more fics of him. anyways, enjoy! (also, for my traitor fans— I haven’t forgotten about you! I hope to work on the next part soon!)

the first time you’d seen scott, you’d wanted to break his jaw, and you hadn't even gotten his name.

“get lost on the way to the hillbilly convention?”

his tone is snarky, his eyes full of disdain as he watched you slide out of tyler’s truck.

your eyes had widened, your spine straightening as you registered his unprovoked hostility.

“the fuck is your problem?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you come back to your senses. you look him up and down, huffing a laugh at his clothes.

“you look like you’re going to a fuckin’ business meeting.” you say, coming to a stop in front of him. your cowboy boots dig into the dirt, and the sun beats down on your face.

perfect day for storm chasing, as your brother had said. darkening clouds rolled in the distance, and the wind was steadily picking up. according to lilly's drone data and tyler's instincts, your first chase would occur sometime within the next few hours.

you had been away at college when tyler’s tornado-chasing YouTube channel took off. you’d always loved the thrill of being close to the storms, but even when you came home to visit during summers, tyler refused to let you tag along.

until now, that is. now that you’ve graduated with a degree in meteorology, just like him. he had always accused you of wanting to follow in his footsteps.

“don’t mind storm par over there,” comes your brother’s drawl as he appears beside you, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. “the stick up his ass seems to have been lodged a little deeper recently. you’ll get used to it,” tyler grins, barking a laugh at the brunette's scowl.

"haven't seen you before," another man moves to stand beside the brunette. he's also wearing storm par gear, and you watch as him and the taller man share an unreadable glance.

"she's new," tyler responds for you, his wide grin still present as he acknowledges the shorter man with the tip of his hat.

"i'd run while you can, sweetheart," the taller one says, a look of pity in his eyes as he looks back to you. "fucking him isn't worth dying over."

you stare at the man for a moment before bursting into laughter. the storm par pair's eyes both widen, their stares moving from your hysterics, to tyler's rolled eyes, and then to each other.

"you two are supposed to be scientists, huh? the guys who are gonna 'tame tornadoes?'" you throw the last two words in air quotes as your laughter subsides.

the shorter of the two men nods, while the taller opens his mouth once more. "that's right. while you morons are out trying to get yourselves killed, we'll be busy doing shit that actually matters."

"right, right," you nod along, glee shining in your eyes as you stare at the taller one. "you must be so smart, then. where'd you get your degree?"

"MIT," he says smugly, popping the gum in his mouth.

"MIT, wow," you whistle, your eyes finding your brother's. tyler just shakes his head, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

"you got a degree from MIT, and you're too stupid to tell that he-" you jab a finger towards tyler. "is my fucking brother?"

the man's smug grin instantly falls as his eyes scan you, then tyler, and then fall back onto you. tyler steps forward, smacking a hand on the man's shoulder with a laugh.

"meet my little sister, storm par. may not have gotten a degree from MIT," he says, tipping his cowboy hat to you. you mime tipping an invisible hat back at him. "but she seems to be a hell of a lot smarter than you."

the second time you see scott, you still don't learn his name.

"jesus christ, this thing is huge!" you yelp as tyler swerves the truck back onto the dirt road. he scowls as the storm par truck ahead of him jerks back and forth on the path, blocking his approach.

"how's the wind lookin'?" he asks, his words clipped as his hands grip the wheel tighter. wheat fields ripple on both sides of the road, an ocean of tan as the sky continues to darken.

"pickin' back up," you tell him, glancing down at the laptop in your lap. it was displaying real-time data of the atmospheric conditions. the software had cost a pretty penny, but had been worth it. plus, it had been more than covered by tyler's t-shirt sales. cheesy or not, tyler’s face on a shirt was worth his weight in gold to his followers.

tyler groans as the white truck in front of him cuts him off again.

"ty, just go around!" you yell at him, your eyes widening as you stare out of the passenger side window. the clouds overhead were beginning to swirl.

"i'm tryin' to drive nice," he tells you through gritted teeth. "don't wanna make you sick-" he begins, but you roll your eyes and reach over, jerking the wheel. the car swerves off the road and into the ditch beside it, and tyler scrambles to avoid hitting a wire fence as he swats at your hand.

"what the fuck?!" he yells at you, his eyes cutting to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"stop tryin' to baby me!" you tell him. "show these storm par pricks what we're made of."

tyler falls silent, clearly debating his next move. you're about to grab the wheel again when his foot slams down on the gas and the truck lurches forward. you cheer, throwing a fist in the air as you laugh with glee.

"just don't tell mom!" he says to you, laughing along.

as the truck speeds forwards, tyler lets off the gas just enough to keep speed with the storm par truck. you lean past him to get a look into the cab, and there's the brunette you'd had the displeasure of meeting a few days ago.

you can see his scowl from here, and your grin is wide as you hold your middle finger up, waving it around to make sure he couldn't miss it. his scowl deepens, and before he can even think of responding to the gesture, tyler hits the gas again.

"what was that for?" your brother asks as you lean back into you seat.

you shrug. "just havin' fun."

the third time you see scott, he saves your life.

it's a week after the middle-finger incident. although storm par and your brother's wranglers have been following the same storms, you haven't had the pleasure of bothering the tall brunette, much less seeing him. you’d caught glimpses, but he seemed to be keeping his distance. you supposed he’d finally grown tired of your constant teasing.

you don't know why you find yourself caring. he's an asshole. an asshole who hates you, your brother, and everything the two of you stand for. who constantly underestimates and looks down on you.

and yet you miss his scowl and the unmistakable pop of his bubblegum.

"hey, you okay over there?" boone asks as he leans over the center console, his head peeking out between the two front seats. you know the question is directed at you, as boone is watching you like a hawk.

"yeah, fine," you shrug, your eyebrows furrowed as you lean down, getting closer to the screen of your laptop.

"ty, turn the music down for a sec," you tell him, and he listens without protest. a rare occurrence, but now wasn't the time for bickering.

what had first appeared to be a measly EF1 had begun to grow. it wasn't dying out, and things were starting to get scarily real as moisture kept feeding into the funnel miles ahead of you.

"this thing isn't stopping," you tell the two men. "you need to tell the rv to turn around. hell, we should turn around."

boone shakes his head, leaning further into your space. his eyes scan your computer screen, and although he's learned a lot from tyler, he still doesn't see what you see.

"nah, it's gonna be fine. ty said it's gonna die out anyways, right? we just need to get in it before it does."

"boone," you warn, turning in your seat to face him. "love you, but shut the fuck up right now." you reach out a hand and grip tyler's arm.

"ty, I mean it."

rain starts pelting the windshield. you can hear the wind howling outside of the truck, and you shudder as hail begins to pound against metal.

tyler mumbles something under his breath as he kicks the windshield wipers up to maximum speed. "you sure?" he finally says.

he turns to look at you as you nod, and those precious seconds are all it takes for the world to spin on its axis.

a fence post slams through the windshield as rain and hail continue to obscure the world around you. you scream and tyler jerks the wheel out of instinct. the truck turns sharply, running off the road. your stomach drops as the truck drops and rises again- your own personal rollercoaster from hell.

"tyler!" you yell, gripping the straps of the harness holding you in.

"workin' on it!" he responds, jerking the wheel the other way. the truck rights itself back on the road, and you close your eyes as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

fuck, the others-

"boone, tell the others to turn around now!" you yell at him, and he's nodding frantically from his seat in the back, his hands fumbling for the walkie talkie in the floor.

"so much for an EF1!" tyler says, and although his tone sounds easy, his face betrays him. you can see the glimpse of fear in his eyes. it mirrors your own.

"yeah, ri-" you begin, but the sentence never fully forms.

you black out as another car slams into the passenger side of the truck.

"c'mon, get up!"

everything feels fuzzy. your head is pounding, and your ears are ringing. pain shoots through your body, engulfing every inch of skin. you think something has to be broken, judging from the numbness you feel on the right side of your body.

"get up!"

your eyes begin to crack open, but your vision is blurry. someone is a few feet in front of you, but you can't make out who it is.

"for fuck's sake-" the voice growls, and you can just hear the faint crunching of glass before your hearing comes back in full force.

the wind is an unbearable howl, and the rain and hail pounding down around you make hearing your own thoughts almost impossible-

your thoughts. what had happened? one second, you're driving and then-

fuck. tyler. boone. where were they?

your eyes shoot open, your body jerking against the harness still keeping you strapped to the leather passenger seat.

you look to your left- to the driver's side- but tyler isn't there. you try to turn you head to see into the back, but a sharp pain in your neck quickly stops you.

"tyler?!" you yell, but your voice is carried off by the wind. you can't even hear your own words.

"boone?!"

"they're fine!" a voice calls to you, and your gaze shoots back to the driver's side. you can see a man crouching by the driver's now blown-out window— which is upside down.

you were upside down. the truck had rolled with the impact of whatever had hit you. everything comes back with devastating clarity, and even though adrenaline pumps through your veins, the pain is beginning to become unbearable.

“can you move?” the voice says. you can’t tell who it is through the spots in your vision and the sheets of rain still coming down.

“I-” you start, pushing your chest against the harness. “I think so.”

“good,” you recognize it as a man’s voice. “then hurry the fuck up and get out!”

under different circumstances, you would’ve scoffed at the order, but now wasn’t the time for defiance. your life was literally on the line, and if you didn’t get to shelter before the tornado engulfed you—

well, you didn’t want to think about that.

you force your brain to gather itself, directing your thoughts toward moving your aching limbs. your left arm is the only one that responds, coming to fumble with the metal buckles of the harness.

the first one unclasps and you swear you could cry from relief.

“any day now!” the man calls, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. you reach your left hand across your torso, working at the clasp on your right side.

“im trying!” you call back. once you get it undone, your arms fall downward as gravity claims them. you groan in pain as your right arm shifts. something is definitely broken, but you can’t afford to give into the pain at the moment.

you reach for the lap belt, tugging at it with a shaking hand. the wind continues to howl around you, and you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. hopelessness begins to eat away at you as you try and try again to undo the lap belt, to no avail.

“it’s stuck!” you call out, hoping the man can hear you. “I can’t get out!”

your breathing is picking up. your chest feels tight, and the feeling you still have in your left hand ebbs as you begin to panic.

you don’t want to die. you know that. it scares you shitless.

but you don’t want anyone else to die, either.

you’re stuck. whoever is outside of the truck isn’t. he should run while he can—

“hold on!” you’re jarred from your thoughts as a figure begins to crawl through the hole left by the blown-out window, and that’s when you register your savior.

it’s him, the brunette from storm par. the man who belittled you, who rolled his eyes at every sentence you spoke, and who you somehow found yourself missing.

he’s crawling into the cab, his arms no doubt suffering cuts from the shattered glass littering his path. “I’ve got you,” he calls to you, and when your eyes meet his, there’s no look of disdain. there’s thinly veiled terror.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him, and you can’t tell if the wetness on your face is from your tears or the rain that’s now blowing sideways into the destroyed truck.

“shut the fuck up,” he tells you, groaning as he slices his forearm on a jagged piece of metal.

“im serious,” you reply, your left hand still fumbling with the belt restraining you. “I can’t feel my right side—”

“will you shut up? please?” he heaves out, his face inches from yours now as he reaches for the lap belt.

you fall silent, but not because you’re heeding his demands. no, you’re too busy examining his face. he’s never been this close to you, and you’re taking in every little detail before death comes to sweep you up.

can’t blame a girl for wanting to gawk at a handsome man in her final minutes, can you?

“stop staring at me,” he grits out, his forearm flexing as he tugs at the lap belt. something has the fabric trapped, and although he’s freeing it inch by inch, you’re not sure if—

the belt gives, and his arms leave your lap to cushion your fall, protecting your head from slamming into the metal below you.

he doesn’t say anything, but you watch as his gaze flits over your right side. stone cold as ever, his expression gives nothing away regarding your physical state. you can’t bring yourself to look down.

“im gonna pull you out, okay?” he says, and you absently nod your head. the pain is heavier now— harder to push away. your vision swims as he hooks his arms under yours and shuffles back on his knees.

agony spreads through your thoughts as the numbness gives way to excruciating pain. your eyelids flutter, but the man doesn’t stop. he grunts as he pulls you forward again, slowly but surely removing you from the truck.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him again, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to stifle a scream of pain. “im not going to be able to walk. I’ll just slow you down—”

“jesus christ, you don’t listen, do you? im not leaving you here to die.”

he finally makes his way out of the wreckage, pulling you with him. once you’re free of the ruined truck, he stands on shaky legs— fighting to maintain balance as the wind whips across his figure. he reaches down, scooping you up in his bloody arms, and starts to run as best he can. the rain is so thick you can’t even see a foot in front of you, let alone where he’s taking you.

lightning cracks overhead, followed by thunder so loud it shakes your shattered bones. your head tilts up to the sky, and you watch in horror at what was once an EF1 tornado races toward you. it’s got to be an EF4 by now— maybe even a 5 based off its sheer size.

“drop me!” you screech, your working hand clutching the soaked fabric of his storm par shirt.

if he hears you, he pays you no mind as he continues to struggle against the wind.

with your eyes focused on the impending doom behind you, you don’t even realize when he reaches his destination. he jumps down into a deep ditch, and you hear him groan as his feet hit the ground. he must be hurt, too.

“is she alright?” a voice calls, and your eyes widen as boone comes into view, a large cut across his forehead that looks like it definitely needs stitches.

“not the time!” the storm par man shouts, ducking behind your friend. your eyes catch boone’s over his shoulder, and you give your fellow storm chaser a weak wink. boone’s lips crack into a wide smile, even amidst this horrible storm.

the brunette carrying you falls to his knees, laying your back against muddied dirt. he refuses to let you go, his arms cradling you against his chest as he shelters you with his own body. there’s nothing to hold onto except for him, and you know if the tornado gets any closer, you’ll both be goners.

you close your eyes tightly, welcoming your end despite your overwhelming fear— but it never comes.

you pry your eyes open as the sounds of wind and rain finally begin to subside. the body above yours still clutches you tightly.

“are we alive?” your voice comes out a whisper. your left hand flexes against the man’s chest, and sure enough, it meets a solid body. he’s not an imagination— he’s real. you’re still here.

“yes,” his chest rumbles with the words, and his arms slowly snake out from under you as he sits back on his haunches. his eyes are locked on yours, his icy blues unreadable as he watches your face.

you don’t say anything for a moment. and then,

“you’re the stupidest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

his eyes widen in surprise, and his stern facade cracks for the first time— at least, that you’ve seen— and he chuckles.

the bubble surrounding you two quickly pops as tyler’s voice meets your ears. you turn your head and there he is— your brother, running towards you with relief written all over his face.

“oh, thank god,” he says, throwing himself to his knees and scooping you up in a hug. you hiss in pain and he pulls back, his hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down with a grimace.

“you took the worst of it. those storm par pricks—” his eyes cut to your savior, who is still sitting nearby, watching the two of you. “hit us. you and boone were knocked out, and you were stuck, so I got him first and was coming back, but—”

“ty,” you interrupt, your left hand landing atop one of his. “it’s okay. im okay. we’re okay.”

tyler takes a deep breath and nods, his eyes flitting back down your body, focusing on your right leg. you follow his gaze, grimacing at the unnatural twist of the limb. no wonder it had gone numb.

“I’ve had worse,” you tell him, taking notice of your limp, lacerated right arm.

“now’s not the time to play hero,” your brother chastises, standing up before reaching down and picking you up. your eyes meet your savior’s once more. he’s standing now, too, his arms crossed over his chest as he matches your gaze.

“guess we owe you a thanks, clipboard. and you owe us a new truck.” tyler says, to which the brunette rolls his eyes.

“ty,” you roll your eyes, too, as you keep your gaze locked with the brunette’s. “ignore my brother. thank you for saving my life….” you trail off, realizing, truly realizing for the first time that you don’t know his name.

“scott.” he tells you. you nod.

“thank you, scott.”

he nods back, turning his back to you as he starts to limp back to the road your vehicles had been abandoned at. you doubted they would still be there.

just as you’re about to look away from his retreating form, he glances over his shoulder and gives you a true, sweetly small, smile.

maybe storm par isn’t so bad after all.

[rosenr0tten]

Meljay isn’t boring. Most people are just unwilling to discuss or engage with them in a meaningful way because of their own biases + inability to think of ship dynamics beyond their cookie cutter tropes

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny couldn't really explain why he always answered this specific summoning ritual. It was like a feeling. One of warmth. Of a mug of hot cocoa in your hands and a nice weighted blanket dropped around your shoulders as a fire blazed in the hearth in front of you, keeping the chill in the rest of the room at bay.

Danny always lost himself in the sensation and found himself back in that stupid circle of protection with that same wierd guy demanding answers. But Danny didn't know anything about a "Lazarus Pit" or a "Pit Madness" let alone a cure for it. Even if he did he wasn't going to tell Red Robin anything after all the times he'd used the marriage summoning spell to get him here.

Earlier on Red had explained it was the only spell known to thier universe that could summon an entity from "The Lazarus Dimension" Which he guessed was another name for the ghost zone and Phantom was the only one to ever be summoned.

Danny couldn't help but wonder why...

After escaping Bird boy and his supernatural pop quiz (oh look, another test for him to flunk) he returns home only to discover his parents had seen him get summoned and accused him of being a ghost that replaced thier baby boy.

Naturalally the next time Red Robin had summoned Phantom he was angry. He was tired and dirty from being on the run from his parents, his worlds US government, and Vlad. Not to mention his own rogues gallery didn't exactly cut him any slack.

So Danny decided that if Red Robin wanted to abuse the power of a marriage ritual than the very least he can do is put his money where his mouth is.

Danny grinned and exited the magic circle, taking delight in Reds widening eyes before he lunged. A kiss sealed the deal, making sure Danny had a safeish place to stay.

After all, married couples in the infinite realms were obligated and even compelled to protect and care for eachother.

[unoislazy]

Promises

Vi x Reader (Part Two)

(Childhood friends to lovers…)

Love will drive you crazy.

A/N: Leave it to a woman to inspire me to write again. <3

“And promise you’ll come back?”

If only you’d known how long those words stuck with Vi. 

For years she had been kept in this prison, her age passing by faster than she could keep count as the days moved on. The gray walls and dreary interior she had become so accustomed to  would be her undoing, she thought. The constant torment by the guards, being forced to live with those she always opposed, every reminder that she needed to get out, all of it in the end would amount to nothing. She feared she’d become nothing more than a statistic among the rest of the previous lane's residents.

She feared she’d never get back to you.

That was, of course, until a strange enforcer came to her rescue. Well… rescue was a strong word. In her eyes it was as if she was being taken from one cage to another.

“In what mad world would I trust someone like you?” She remembered the girl saying. 

“Someone like you.” 

They were all the same.

But she knew this girl was her best bet out of this place. Back to her sister and back to you. 

So, with a slightly wounded ego and a more hopeful outlook on life, given her two goals were now closer than ever, she left with the enforcer.

It was as if she appeared from nowhere. When she showed up, Vi truthfully thought she was going to get another “talk”. Instead, however, she was set free. With a price of course. She knew better than anyone than to trust an enforcer, so she kept her distance. Although, she couldn’t help but be thankful for her help even if it meant giving some kind of information in return. 

For the first time in years, Vi was able to move freely, hear the sounds of people bustling about, and see actual colors other than the dismal gray that engulfed the entirety of Stillwater. She wasn’t going to let some enforcer stop her from at least stretching her legs as she got reacclimated to the world around her. It wasn’t until the enforcer caught up with her once again did she realize she wasn’t going to just leave her alone. 

“Where are we going?” The enforcer asked. Vi had learned her name to be Caitlyn, and honestly she was just trying to lose her but somehow she always found her way back. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, not even bothering to turn back towards her. 

“We’re going to visit a friend.” She answered simply, her hood pulled up to cover her tattooed skin and her ever present pink hair.  Although the crowd of the people of the lanes was a diverse bunch, someone like Vi would still be easily recognizable for those who knew to look for her, and she was sure there would be a few. 

“Will this friend help us?” Caitlyn questioned skeptically, quickening her pace for a moment to catch up with Vi before slowing her pace once again. It was clear she was unsure of Vi's methods, probably letting what she had “learned” about the people of the undercity make her imagination go wild. She too kept her hood up, but less out of keeping her identity hidden, and more as if she was trying to shield herself from the strange new world around her. She had never been to the fissures first hand… and it was a lot to take in. 

With her hands tucked into the pockets of her new, freshly stolen jacket, Vi sighed.

“If I say yes will you hurry up?” She asked with a sarcastically sweet smile on her face as she turned slightly to Caitlyn. The blue haired enforcer, now left with little options given that Vi was her only sense of direction, simply nodded in response and followed wherever Vi was headed with a hastened pace. 

Luckily for Caitlyn, their route didn’t contain any parkour. 

Vi hurriedly made her way through the streets of the Undercity with one place in mind. She had no idea where you could be after all these years, if you were even still here. So, to keep from losing her sanity all at once, she started at the place where everything used to make sense. She couldn’t help but feel her heartbeat quicken ever so slightly, fluttering with even a tinge of hope that things would be just as they once were. With you waiting outside the door, wondering when she’d be free to hang out. Just like how it used to be.

But instead of being greeted with both the nostalgic warm glow off the sign outside of the bar, and you waiting by the door, she was met with a jarring bright green neon eye that framed the sign. People hung around outside, some clearly drunk off their ass, while others picked fights. Two guards stood outside, keeping people out of the, what seemed to now be exclusive, bar. 

This wasn’t right. None of this was. 

Vi’s grip on the bar that he hands rested on tightened as she looked at the scene before her. If this had changed, she couldn’t imagine what else had happened. 

And now she hadn’t a clue in the world where to look for you.

Little did she know, you really weren’t that far from her. 

You, like many others in the Undercity, had to make ends meet. 

You had to learn to survive.

And as a kid who lost everyone close to them, you really didn’t have many choices. So, you started from the bottom, working in the mines as many other kids your age did and worked your way up. Unfortunately, working in the mines meant you were working for Silco. The kingpin of the lanes. You couldn’t escape him if you tried. No one could, it seemed. The more you worked up and out of the mines, the closer you got to the man himself. Of course you never got to any influential role like his right hand. That title was reserved for Sevika.

But you didn’t need anything like that. You just wanted to survive, you didn’t want to have any real influence. 

Who knew from starting out in the mines, you would one day work your way up into working in the bar that you once thought to be a home of some sorts. In your eyes, everyone but Powder had died in that accident all those years ago. You never did find out exactly what had happened and you figured it would be for the best not to ask. That was the best way to get around in a place that involved such sketchy business. 

Keep your head down and don’t ask questions. 

That’s how you got as far as you did. 

What’s the point in asking questions you probably don’t want the answers to.

Every day you came into this bar to work, you couldn’t help but feel an unfathomable weight of guilt on your shoulders. You felt as if you let this happen. You felt as if you could’ve done something to stop Silco from practically desecrating the one thing everyone had left of Vander, other than the statue that was built in his honor. You felt as if you had done a disservice to Vi.

You knew how much Vi cared about those around her, and of course you also knew how much her sister meant to her. You never directly told her but you always knew that if anything had happened to Vi or Vander, you’d help out Powder. 

But when the need arose, you realized far too late.

The first day you had come in to work at your new position, just as a regular busser, you hadn’t expected much. You had no interest in the company Silco kept so you never made it your business. Until one day, you were cleaning off a table when a blue haired girl came waltzing in the front door. Her demeanor was cheerful but… with a noticeable edge. There was something off about her. You simply ignored it, figuring it was not worth asking questions until you heard her laugh. 

It was as if a strike of lightning struck through your entire being at that moment.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

You slowly turned once again to look back at the blue haired girl. A blue haired girl with even bluer eyes. Her laugh was identical to the one you had come to know very well all those years ago. It was then it clicked with you, that girl was Powder. She was here all along and you never knew. She was alive this whole time. You could’ve done something. You could’ve helped. And instead, here she was under Silcos care when she should’ve been under yours.

But then again, what could you have done? You too were just a child barely able to scrape together enough to make a living on your own, let alone take care of another altogether. Clearly that's not what mattered, what mattered was keeping Powder safe, what mattered was doing what you had secretly promised to Vi. What mattered was-

“Did you hear me?” A low voice broke you from your train of thought as you fluttered your eyelids and shook your head. You then looked up at the women before you who had spoken up just moments prior. You panicked a bit, immediately recognizing the woman to be Sevika, Silco’s cold hearted right hand. She grumbled under her breath knowing damn well you hadn’t heard a single word she just said before repeating,

“Clean this up.” She huffed, her eyelids lowering slightly as she stared at you. 

“Right.” You replied quickly before quickly moving to grab your bucket and practically scooping all the dirty dishes into it to bring back to clean. You tried not to draw too much attention to yourself by just doing what was asked of you quick and easy, but it was hard not to let your mind run away from you when being in a place such as this. A place that meant so much to you and you could do nothing but sit back and watch it burn. 

As you went back to clean the dishes, you noticed Sevika had gotten up and began to follow you. Great, you upset one of the three main people you never wanted to get on the bad side of.

Good going. 

You braced yourself to be ridiculed or fired before you heard Sevika speak up.

“Hey, you.” She called out, to which you turned around, a questioning look on your face as you looked behind you before looking back at her. “Yes, you. Come here.” She called out, now very clearly looking directly at you. If you were wearing boots you’d be shaking in them by now. You listened, of course, and walked towards her, leaving behind your container of dishes on a counter nearby. 

Once you made your way towards her, you simply made a gesture of acknowledgement, not speaking up as you waited for her to continue. 

“I need you to handle something for me. You don’t talk much, that’s good.” She spoke, her voice low and gritty as she leaned towards you as if trying to keep, whatever she was about to let you in on, a secret. You were just a busser, you weren’t supposed to be involved in any of the bigger things, this isn't what you wanted. 

Then again, you were just a busser, so there was no possible way that whatever Sevika wanted to suddenly burden you with was going to be all that damning, right?

“I have a ‘meeting’ tomorrow and I need someone else to go with. Don’t talk, don’t play, don;t do anything, you just have to be there. Got it?” She asked, well actually more like demanded. Then you realized, this ‘meeting’ was just another one of her gambling sessions. She must be playing something that involves two players and as someone who clearly doesn’t want to be in the way, she wouldn’t have to worry about you trying to snuff her out while playing. 

You felt as if the entire weight of the world lifted off of your shoulders. 

“Got it.” You responded. 

“Rotten luck boys.” Sevika gloated, throwing her deck onto the table as the two men before both of you huffed and growled having now the last majority of their money that they likely had saved for this occasion.

Just before she could say anything else, the sound of a sudden impact flew through the air, and before you could ever process what had just happened you watched as a streak of pink flew past your vision. The two men that had once been sitting before you had scurried off, grabbing some of their belongings in the process, clearly not wanting to be involved. 

You looked over to Sevika who was now partly on the floor as she grasped her jaw before looking up at the culprit. 

“Vi?” You whispered at the same time as Sevika as you both gazed upon the pink haired woman who currently had her back turned towards you.

Vi quickly turned back around to face you both, her eyes quickly glancing at you but her gaze didn’t linger as her focus was clearly on Sevika. Without another word shared between the two of them, punches were thrown, blows were dealt, and the sound of faces hitting concrete became more frequent than you ever would have liked it to.

You backed off, staring at the scrap before you as your eyes remained locked on the pink haired woman. There was no way that was Vi. It couldn’t be, she was killed with everyone else right? Perhaps, this was just a woman who just happened to look like Vi..? You racked through your brain with a million reasons for this to somehow be possible. None of which involved this truly being Vi. You didn’t want to let your hopes up like that. 

It wasn’t until you tuned back into the fight had you realized that Vi had kicked Sevika through a wall and was now holding her to the ground.

“Where’s my sister, where is he keeping her!” She demanded, holding her fist to Sevika’s face. It was then you realized, this really was Vi. From the voice, the fighting ability, the hair. You couldn’t deny it, it truly was her.

Your heart raced with excitement as you realized she was alive. She was really alive.

But if Sevika had her way, that wouldn’t be the case for long. 

She drove her clawed metal hand into Vi’s abdomen, wounding her greatly. 

You didn’t know what to do, if you spoke out against Sevika and lived you would be hunted for sport by Silco’s men, or Sevika herself. If you didn’t do anything, Vi was right on track to die. 

Before you could make a decision, you heard the whirring of Sevika’s arm as she stood once again, grabbing Vi and holding her in place.

“Hm, oh. And I almost forgot, a friend of yours wanted to say hi.” She taunted as she tilted Vi’s dreary face towards you. You watched as her face that was riddled with pain changed ever so slightly with shock as she recognized you. 

“Sunshine…?” She said quietly. The nickname that she had given you all those years ago.  before you both turned back to Sevika as the sound of her arm powering up filled the air. Vi looked as if she had given up by this point, having no more strength in her to fight. 

You had to help, you had to do something. You weren’t going to sit by and let this happen.

You weren’t going to lose her again.

------------------------------------------

Tag list

@bigbangxd24

[pinacoladamatata]

this should have been a steam achievement

[arithebard]

Reading the captive prince series when you know both German and French is low-key kinda torturous cuz it’s like:

„Here is the main character named Women, being sent to his enemy country ‚drinking glass‘“

[damienshaas]

#they really did that

[oonalovesastarionssimpleplan]

[prince-liest]

Thoughts on radioapple as a qpr?

I'm of two opinions on this... forewarning that I'm giving my general and genuine opinion in this ask. Insert disclaimer about "not all radioapple," this is not a judgment on those that like what I dislike, don't come for me, etc, etc.

I'm not a huge fan of radioapple as a ship, QPR or otherwise. A lot of this comes down to how they're characterized in that ship on average. I love Alastor and Lucifer as characters independently from each other, but radioapple has pretty broad mass appeal and thus a tendency to see their characters simplified into personality and relationship tropes. (I remember being genuinely very confused when I realized that radioapple is more popular than radiostatic, to a degree that is really funny in retrospect.)

That said, there has been radioapple that I've read and really, really enjoyed (check out my AO3 bookmarks). Generally it's been slowburn as hell, genuinely dedicated to portraying Alastor as aroace (and usually sex-repulsed which is my preference in this context; I also feel like non-QPR radioapple has higher rates of "wow this Alastor is definitely not ace" vibes than other ships from what I've anecdotally noticed), and taken a lot of time to dissect both of their personalities, goals, and the ways in which they'd clash and subsequently build on them both individually as characters and in relation to each other.

A lot of my issues with radioapple comes from not being a fan of typical "enemies to lovers (or QPRs)" tropes, which I think in turn ties into my being very aro and very ace. If you give me an enemies to partners then you better be very fucking dedicated to proving to me why these two end up actually liking each other, because there is nothing I find less relatable than horny hatefucking or a relationship built on humiliating or putting down your partner (in a non-kinky way, or in a kinky way that disguises genuine poor treatment). A lot of the "they take turns humiliating each other" or "Lucifer puts Alastor in his place" flavored fics that are intended to be shippy just put me off entirely. Especially given radioapple's intended endgame flavor most of the time is that it's not a toxic ship.

This extends to them in a QPR. Any kind of emotional connection between these two for me would require writing dedicated to the emotional legwork. I think this is why I don't enjoy a lot of radioapple art, too - by the nature of the medium it's hard to capture that in a single image.

Tl;dr: 99% of the time, hard pass. 1% of the time, fucking amazing work, good job, love it, can't WAIT for the sequel.

[ppg-shamed-dedecance-au]

Strawberry and Apple Sweetness (Shamed Dedecance AU)

Despite the dark nature of the AU, believe it or not I do add wholesome parts to this AU. I figured I should post a cute one considering the angst I've been either pulling out of my words or drawings. I have a lot of dark ideas but I enjoy the light moments every now and then. In case you are wondering, yes Blossick is canon in this AU. However in the current timeline they are in, they remain purely platonic. Romance does happen but I honestly feel like it would only happen when they are way older teens/adults. Before you ask, no Boomubbles or Butchercup is not canon at all. In fact uh Blossom and Brick is the only PPG and RRB pairing in this AU. However I do have Boomer and Robin in this AU as a pairing as well, same logic though, they are friends right now until way older. The sketches are meant to be concepts or ideas of what their relationship/friendship is like. As I'm trying my hardest to work the best as I can to canon personality wise as possible. Oh ya side note- Brick has a fear of ladybugs in my AU. (It's not canon but I wanna add that in for fun lol) I also liked how Brick try to convince Bloss to swear but she don't wanna XD- Anyways hope you guys like it! Shamed Dedecance AU owned by me. Blossom and Brick owned by: Craig McCracken

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 145

I'm gonna be real with y'all, I have not seen the netflix show. I do not wish to see the netflix show. I don't like how it handles the characters, and changes things around. However I do know that Jaskier gets tortured by a man named Rience ("Firefucker") and then Yen saves him and whatnot, and I cannot for the life of me find fics where it's Geralt that saves him instead. He wants to make up for what he said on the mountain and tracks down his bard only to find him being tortured. So this is your calling, my darling writers, feed me, won't you? Go.. Off into the wind... write me my hurt/comfort... write me my rescue missions......

Geralt slams the door open, splinters of the wooden door flinging through the air. The first thing to hit him is the smell of burned flesh. He stomps in, and glances around, seeing a man looming over another man, the second is tied to a chair. A single inhale of the air, and more of that burned smell, but Geralt also smells- .. Jaskier. He knew he was here. His tracking hadn't failed him. "Look, songbird, the man of the hour is here." Firefucker practically coos, locking eyes with Geralt.

[demaparbat-hp]

I am loving your Hunters AU!!!

I really like how Zuko's motivation to hunt Aang is less about going home, but more about wanting to end the war by taking the throne.

And having Zuko not play Pai Sho because he always wins was GREAT! Is not that he is bad at it or impatient (Maybe a bit impatient). He just finds it boring and can guess the next 10 moves just from looking at the board.

I wonder how a match between him and Sokka would go.

I also love seeing Katara in Fire Nation red.

Question: I know that Zukoi is pretending to be evil, so he can dismantle the Fire Nation's plans from within, as he is part of the White Lotus. But does he tell Katara of the plan from the start, or does she just know the "Capture the Avatar to end the War" part of the plan?

I feel that the "Capture the Avatar, Make Zuko Fire Lord, End the War" aspect fits better at the start for her misguided and idiotic decision of joining Zuko on his hunt.

Yes, I know that the decision stems from her trauma and the betrayal she feels from Aang's lying and leaving her. And she sees Zuko as the fastest way of ending the war that took her mother from her.

So I was thinking that maybe by the end of Book 1, after some self-destructive actions taken by Katara, Zuko tells her the WHOLE plan. The parts of sabotaging the Fire Nation, the White Lotus missions, and wanting Aang fully realized to defeat his father.

You know? He can't just tell all his plans to the girl that he just met.

Also, how does Katara learn waterbending if she with with Zuko? Does Zuko buy her the Waterbending Scroll during one of Iroh's shopping sprees?

Also, how would the whole Hama and Bloodbending develop in this universe?

You put everything into words so wonderfully! I'm in love with your thoughts on this AU. Hunters is really special to me, so reading your ask made my day.

Katara only knows about the "Capture the Avatar, Make Zuko Fire Lord, End the War" part of the plan—at least in the beginning. As time goes by she starts suspecting that something else is going on (Zuko's escapades as the Blue Spirit can only happen so often before someone notices), but she doesn't know exactly what it is.

Zuko has no reason to trust her. She's just a waterbender who knows the Avatar and has the right means to track him down and ensure he'll be willing to come along quietly. She can also make sure Zuko's mission goes along smoothly, as her waterbending talents would be greatly appreciated by his seafaring crew.

One thing I'm passionate about in this AU is the idea that no character is perfect. They all make mistakes that they need to learn from and fix if possible. Such is Katara's case! She made the wrong choice and has some awful coping mechanisms, and growing out of them is part of her character arc.

I like to think that Katara wasn't entirely honest with Zuko either.

She was desperate for a way out, for a way to end things, and Zuko held everything she could ever want on the palms of his hands. But what could Katara offer him in return? Knowing Aang and being able to reason with him wasn't enough, so she placed all her bets on something else: her waterbending.

Katara didn't exactly lie—she just forgot to mention her waterbending expertise. Which is near to none. It's not her fault that Zuko assumed, based on her instinctive control over several ice shards when she first threatened him, that she was a master.

Right?

*cough*

Katara keeps up the ruse for as long as she can, but Zuko is always five steps ahead on the game board, so he figures her out before a month goes by.

It's a miracle she lasted that long, honestly.

(She trains with the firebenders after that—it's her punishment. Training and studying and pushing her body to the extreme. It takes her a while to see that Zuko, despite his militaristic asshole-ness, only wants for her to learn and be able to defend herself. It takes her even longer to earn the right to train with him, and admit to herself that she's thankful for not having been tossed overboard the moment her ruse was up.)

It's hard for Zuko to fully trust Katara during Book I, and viceversa. This is something I find awfully compelling because they're not friends immediately. Hell, they don't even like each other at first. But they acknowledge the advantages of being allies, and eventually come to respect each other. Their trust is something tentative and fragile, yet no less pure because of it.

Which is the reason I wonder how Katara would take it when Zuko reveals his entire plan, and in which conditions this would happen. Was that trust broken, or did it finally turn into something much stronger because of the struggle?

(What was her mistake? Did she put the entire operation in danger? Did she follow him on one of his missions because she was tired of waiting in the sidelines and not being trusted? So many possibilities...)

By the time Book I ends, Zuko and Katara have finally, finally smoothed the rough edges between them. Now their connection is deeper, and they move forward together.

As for the bloodbending, your guess is as good as mine! I'd love for Katara to learn bloodbending earlier and have a different connection with it. She understands the dangers involved in bending someone's blood, but is also curious about the advantages it could have in healing or as a last resort in battle.

[morgaseus]

A little brainrot abt Dr. Ratio (he is kinda giving ‘archmage of the mages tower’ vibes. He acts like he doesn’t care about you but deep down he does! He just doesnt know how to act like it😞)

Not even a year in the relationship yet you already want to divorce him. You can’t stand him! That haughty arrogance of his! It feels like hes belittling you with every chance he gets! Its getting in your nerves! He even acts like you both arent married. Not even a simple greeting. What happened to hi, hello, goodbye, i’ll be away for a while, i’ll be home late. The food that you you leave for him for dinner always goes cold and uneaten. He just comes and go and do as he please! You know its a marriage of convenience, it probably means nothing to him, its just empty promises written in a paper after all. But you still want to be civil with him, he’s the man you married after all. But you couldnt take it it anymore! So, when the chance presented itself, you stormed in his office slamming the divorce paper in his desk.

“I want a divorce” you crossed your arms “i’m done with this marriage, sign it”

He looked at the paper for a moment and then at you. You gripped your left arm, feeling nervous under his stare. But you feel hopeful, he’ll probably sign it. There’s no strings attached anyways. But to your dismay he merely put the paper to the side and went back to whatever he was working with

“I wont sign it and as you can see I’m quite busy, please see yourself out”

Yep. You feel like you’re going insane

[sov666sov]

In my RaiLao agenta era

When i second watch mk1 this two boys just take my heart and smash into small pieces iiii- i love them so much

And i love this two skins of them so i did this kinda Halloween vibe art haha

[sunwayholm]

I usually try not to post more than one drawing a day, but I loved this pretty man's design too much to not draw him again immediately