#Theme: System

[militantcoining]

Skull Crusher - A term for a headmate that is antagonistic, aggressive, apathetic, and defensive. As well as holding beliefs of misanthropy towards external people.

Skull Crushers are always the first (or one of the first) to react in situations where the system and/or a fellow headmate may feel attacked and will react with hostility always. Their idea of a solution in moments such as these may be to piss the other person off more than them and make them hate you, purposefully, to ensure they’ll never hold the idea of contact again.

Said headmate can fall under roles (all simultaneously) such as prosecutor, anger-holder, aggressor, protector, apathy-holder and guardian.

Kinda cluster b-aligned, though, wasn’t intentional and is for anyone to use.

Tagging - @radiomogai

[ghosted-jazz]

Soldier, Poet, Kings

Bonus wallpaper version with just Joel:

[emacrow]

The baby god.

The world was in panic as Justice League couldn't do anything, a glowing green metorite ball the size of Neptune was heading directly toward Earth.

The green lantern corps couldn't do anything to move the direction of the metorite, Superman couldn't even get near without feeling faint, believing that there was kyptonite on the metorite stopping him.

Not even John could make any deal that involved that metorite at all.

Many city panic, started fighting, crying, and broken down. Many religious groups accept their fate.

Gotham City refused to go out quietly as everyone was throwing a simultaneous party. Even the villains went all out, even Joker didn't cause harm to anyone, much less made a joke at all..

Joker tremblingly held a very old playing joker card that Batman had since their first fight years ago while his eyes, one still black from earlier look to the last live being recorded with Batman's voice speaking on the live, He stayed along side in gotham even when end of the world was here.

Clark Kent stayed with his ma and pa house, lois Lane, holding her hands.

The world stood still as the seemingly the end was close by.

Only for the glowing green metorite was rapidly slowing down, nearly the same length by as the moon even if it was gigantic in comparison.

A gargantuan hands seen to have grasped it, the hands itself were covered in stars and dust as a loudest chirp could be heard around the earth.

Bright bluish green eyes the size of the sun slowly blink with curious, a gigantic toddler the twice size of Jupiter, a chubby face covered in dwarfs star made freckles, a glowing green necklace that held the tiny dwarf pluto, hair the covered Most of the darkness that was the night sky like strains clouds made from the heaven themselves.

A massive deep blue puff escaped the gargantuan being's mouth, raining down all over the earth, where tiny pure crystalized ice was the size of a baby pearl that never melted.

Everyone who was watching the live or was watching outside could see the being clearly.

The metorite threatened to end all life on earth as they knew it was stopped by a god.

The god slowly turned, the bright white hair swaying star dust everywhere in the sky as they were turning to someone and floated away, the joyous young laughter of a toddler echoing on earth.

[leecheedoodles]

G-G-GHOSTS?!?!?!!

[i-gwarth]

btw we do *get* that the worldbuilding of DE parallels the character's arc right? We understand that, right? That Our Guy commits all but a sliver of himself to the oblivion of amnesia in a moment where the only alternative he could see was suicide. And at the other end of that tragic attempt at self-annihilation he gets the chance to reinvent himself and overcome the longstanding, persistent habits that brought him to the cliff's edge to begin with. And that the world itself is presented as approaching an equally definitive precipice, with one of the richest characters in the cast even remarking that Capital is dead, and everything else being 20-odd years away from being swallowed by the pale

And we understand that the pale is forgetting, right? Right? It's informational entropy applied to the world, facts and events and places and memories being destructured and obliderated, reduced to an indistinct soup of whispers, past present and future. That it emerges from humanity's collective inability to imagine a future beyond moralist capitalism, and that this inability to see the horizon inevitably metastazises into Mesque's accelerationist nihilism that ultimately destroys the world. [starts shaking you] WE UNDERSTAND THAT RIGHT??

That the game's splash screen is a view from the bay of Revachol, from the deserter's island. And we know what it shows, right? Revachol, in the distance. And beyond that what? A horizon? No! It shows Pale. Because that's his perspective. Because he has abandoned all hope, lost all sight of the future and has committed to self-annihilation. For him the entroponetic collapse is imminent. We see that, don't we?

That the game is a thesis on hope. That the world has the chance to reinvent itself from the precipice of oblivion just like Harry does, and that the only thing that can do that is imagining the future. A future. Any future, and making it. Piece by piece, day by day, committing to it, and refusing to give in to despair and nihilism. We understand, don't we, that there must be no truce with the f-

you know what, nevermind...

[lyss-butterscotch]

Hades style portraits for the doomed siblings

[teratomatica]

you always land on all fours

[nibbelraz]

Gaza aid prompt for @fae-kat!

The peak lords seeing Shen Yuan's original body! They all think he's quite adorable!! Thank you so much for your donation, I hope you enjoy!!

[stil-lindigo]

motherhood.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At your side [End of Season 2]

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[fulcrums501st]

the way Jayce ordering the bridge blockade in s1 led to Viktor calling him out on Piltover’s classism but when Cait GASSES zaunites with Vi and later establishes like a MEGA-blockade for months under marshal law to brutally police zaun even further, Vi isn’t allowed to have any opinions on it. We montage through it, and Vi later yells at Caitlyn for working with Ambessa, not enacting systemic violence against her own people. Only Ambessa = bad ig. the show totally shifts the blame onto Noxus. only, noxus = bad ig. nothing about Piltover’s own classism and oppression.

[misperceived-monotreme]

these bitches got bad luck ions out the wazoo

[bonehymns]

super funny to me how fuinjuutsu specialists are functionally the wizards even among the ninja wizard populace of naruto. give them some paper and prep time and they start playing with reality like it's made of dough. anyways, some things iruka does with his fuinjuutsu that are cool and fun and thematically resonant:

he gains the most renown for his seals, of course, but has carved out a niche for himself in learning how to enchant weapons and clothing. for iruka, who does everything he can for others, this was a natural progression. (fuinjuutsu, like anything else in this world made possible with chakra and grit, is about intention, and will, and some healthy disregard for the laws of reality. iruka's only desire had ever been to protect as many people as he could, to let them be as safe as they could be, to come home. of course he would learn to make their clothes tough enough to deflect blades. of course he would gift weapons that don't break, that could cleave mountains in two if the wielder tried hard enough. violence is the way of this world, and iruka has learned about survival since he was a child; he will give others what they need to survive, until the world no longer needs such things. it will be considered a kindness until it isn't.) his fuinjuutsu mastery becomes so refined and covetous that the daimyos have received enchanted items by him, as well as the other kages, but iruka gives away most of his craft to the general populace, and most often for free, because they are the ones who need it most, and the most deserving besides.

if cursed seals exist, then surely the opposite can as well? iruka is willing to experiment and kakashi is more than willing to be the test subject. it's desire and willpower made manifest into ink, put onto skin, but instead of kakashi carrying around the remnants of ambition and greed, he has iruka's love for him, writ large and deep, so deep he can feel it to his marrow. there is no pain, just warmth and a soft pressure, like a kiss, like a hand on his shoulder. that blessed seal, like many other things kakashi carries on his body, will come to save his life many times. and if nothing else, it serves as a beautiful tattoo, inked on his left arm, covering his anbu mark. call it a shedding of the skin, at last, for a man who's worn too many it became so heavy. let it be a start to him writing a better ending for himself, with iruka's hand to help steady him, his generous heart reminding kakashi that he can want better for himself. iruka always could see the potential in everyone.

[idiot-mushroom]

white lillies are a symbol of devotion

me and @si-li were on w whiteboardfox together and were talking abt how ctommy is super religous and it inspired me to make this piece!!

[toastytrusty]

i think it finally clicked what about cassian and luthen's relationship i find so compelling. when cassian officially joined the rebellion at the end of season one, he effectively surrendered all of his autonomy to luthen. "kill me or take me in." he literally put his life in luthen's hands. he clearly had very little will to live, and beyond giving luthen the choice to kill him, he gave luthen the choice to give him purpose again. and not Just purpose, either, but full control over the rest of his life, as well. he became part of the cause because he felt he had nothing else left, and was either going to effectively kill himself, or let someone else dictate every single thing he does until he dies anyway, now with a reason behind it, now able to plausibly deny it being wanted. it's simultaneously an admittance of defeat, where he is telling luthen that he won, and an act of defiance, where he is challenging luthen to discard him rather than use him. and obviously luthen would rather use him.

but then there is the bix aspect. cassian's hopelessness at the end of s1 implies that he did not, at that point, see bix as an adequate reason to keep going. not as a reason to stay alive, not as a reason to stay present in anyone else's life. it was not worth remaining an individual, for her sake or his own. and obviously a lot of that is from the insane depressive grief that the whole Ordeal of s1 + losing maarva was. but still. he was very closed off, and singlemindedly thinking about his own ability to give himself to the rebellion. which makes his protectiveness over her in s2 all the more compelling. he is repeatedly getting worked up over her well-being, and acting out in ways that are possibly jeopardizing to the rebellion. it's such a fascinating transition, and regardless of how they got there again, i think in season 2, cassian sees bix as his last place to be human. the one person in the galaxy he can be an individual with, rather than a tool. which is why, in my current, ever-evolving understanding of these characters, i think he gets so contradictory and confused about what he wants from her. he wants her to be strong and a soldier so they can go to war together, because the war is so terribly important to him, but he also wants her to prioritize her own safety over anything else and never put herself at risk, because if he loses her he loses himself. this is necessarily the conflict between them.

which comes to the incredible exchange between cassian and luthen about bix in episode 6 of s2, where we can see how much this conflcit is affecting cassian. he can't stand that luthen is potentially putting bix in danger, and can't stand that luthen is treating them like droids, rather than people. but then. then luthen Reminds cassian. he reminds cassian that he already surrendered his autonomy. he already surrendered his individuality. "we're not who we were when we started." cassian chose this; chose to change for this, chose to give up being a person for this. he doesn't get to now choose to put bix, his one haven, over it. she needs to be able to handle herself, because cassian asserting himself by worrying about her compromises their entire system. "you will have to decide when it becomes too large a problem." but cassian's response is the most important part: "no. that's gonna be up to you." he's essentially turning it back on luthen. if luthen expects him to remain compliant in the way his role calls for, then luthen needs to be fullfilling his side of it, and making sure cassian has an environment that he Can remain compliant in, without compromising anything. "you want my blood? you help me solve this." he is finally standing his ground on something to luthen, asserting himself in a way that is basically begging luthen to let him submit again. he wants to be part of the cause; he still wants to be able to lose himself in it, but he also needs bix, and will not give up the life he knows is possible to share with her.

[clairewritesfanfics]

Villain Creation System Chapter 8

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

Warning: mild suggestive themes

CHAPTER 7: My Mama Done Tol' Me a Man… Series Masterlist <<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>

This was your first time leaving campus grounds since you entered this universe.

Your schedule was open today. No classes, no tutoring, and thank God, no parties.  You were free to get on a bus and go anywhere you wanted.

You were in no mood to speak with anybody who even remotely knew you, so you did something you always wanted to do but couldn’t when you were alive: you shut off your phone.

It was liberating. 

As much as you appreciated your phone’s many utilities, you never did enjoy how easy it was to be found.

The system was in no position to protest. A perfect affinity score was not a requirement in completing your mission, only the darkening, and it was happy with the increase to Mark Grayson’s corruption. It was also too terrified to incur your wrath, so it sequestered itself in a corner to read romance novels.

Without the system’s intrusive voice, the soft whirring of the bus AC was the only thing you could hear. You were alone with your thoughts, and for the first time ever, you hated that.

You haven’t spoken with Mark since the cafeteria incident. It took you several showers to get rid of the stench of meat and grease from your hair, but no amount of cold water could soothe your frayed nerves.

Mark’s guilt-ridden face haunted you, appearing behind your eyelids every time you tried to sleep. The image flashed in and out of your mind, constantly tagging with the memory of the night he aired out his grievances towards you and your alleged coldheartedness.

You were too old to hold a grudge towards playground level insults. 

…that’s what you kept telling yourself, anyway.

In reality, remembering his expression and his looming frame as he said those horrible things scraped at your heart; pinched off small pieces every single time you relive the night.

Relationships tend to leave you discombobulated. 

You loved learning, but educating yourself in social interactions was done out of necessity rather than genuine interest. You like to think that you’ve gotten better over the years at reading the room and giving appropriate responses, a solemn nod, a polite smile; but it would seem that you still had room for improvement.

The bus slowed to a stop and you got off.

You were a five minute-walk away from the mall. It wasn’t technically your choice. You didn’t know where to go, only that you wanted to leave your dorm, so you spun a Wheel of Names containing random hangouts and it gave you the mall. 

Might as well. Maybe some good old window shopping can alleviate your mood.

Well, this was unexpected. 

You carried shopping bags in each hand. You saw a really cute jacket and while it was a little pricey you figured you deserved it, and you did need a new jacket.

One purchase. It’s okay, you told yourself. One expensive but practical jacket is an investment. 

But then you caught a glimpse of a shiny pair of cat ear noise-cancelling headphones. It was in your favorite color and its price would have been way beyond your savings in life, but it was on sale and your bank account here was surprisingly big and the ears were too cute to ignore.

This was also an investment, a steal even! You reasoned.

You were on your way to the food court when you passed by your biggest weakness: a stationery store. 

You spent way too much time inside and ended up buying way more than you could delude yourself into believing was pragmatic or reasonable.

On the bright side, you felt better, especially when you examined the notebooks, highlighters and pens you bought while sipping a fresh fruit smoothie. Nothing beats the feeling of unwrapping a present, even if it’s technically not a present or even wrapped. 

You held a notebook to your face, pressing the page to your nose and inhaling the scent of paper. 

“Mmmm…” No tablet or laptop can hope to replicate that scent or replace pen and paper in your heart. 

You overheard a child’s voice from the next table: “Mommy, that girl’s sniffing a book.”

“Shh, don’t point, don’t even look.”

Recovering from your drunken bliss, you closed the notebook and put it back inside the shopping bag. 

You were considering changing tables when someone called your name. It was Rick, dressed too fancily for a simple trip to the mall and holding a cup of bubble tea.

“Small world,” he laughed. 

Too small. “Hello.” You nodded. You chose this specific mall because it was quite far from the campus. The chances of running into someone who knew you was small, but lately, fate has been working against you. 

“Free day too, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Meeting someone?”

“No, I just did some shopping.” You put your purse over your lap. “You?”

“I was supposed to meet someone. Blind date. But he’s over thirty minutes late.” He sighed.

You wanted to sigh, too. He looked like a kicked puppy. “Did you eat already?”

“I was going to but it’s lunchtime and I couldn’t find any vacant tables. I was thinking of going home.”

“Do you want to sit with me?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He put down his milk tea and shrugged off his suede jacket before taking a seat. “You know, I spent the entire night thinking of what to wear and I haven’t eaten anything and I’m pretty sure I already ran out of tapioca pearls.”

“I get that.”

“Someone stood you up before?”

You tilted your head. “No. I don’t know why I said that, actually.”

He laughed. 

“If it’s any form of comfort, I think you look nice today.”

“Thank you.” He scratched his jaw. “I hate that I have to ask this so soon, but are you okay?”

You grabbed your smoothie. Knowing exactly what he was referring to, you replied, “I am, thanks for asking. I’m much better now than I was yesterday.” You patted the shopping bags sitting next to you, a proud smile overtaking your face.  

“By the way,” he said, pointing at his own eye. “Your makeup’s kinda smudged.”

Gasping, you turned away from him and opened your phone’s front camera.

The concealer you applied to cover your black eye must have rubbed off and onto the paper. You reapplied until the shiner was barely noticeable.

“Are you–”

“I’m fine.” You threw the concealer stick back into your bag. “Can we change the subject?”

“Uh, sure thing.” Rick tapped the plastic cup. “...you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but are you and Mark a thing?” 

You stopped sipping and looked at him. 

Rick raised his hands up. “I just, I've never seen him react that way before.”

“You know him?”

“I know of him. My ex-boyfriend used to be friends with him, not to mention he was Mister Popular back in our high school, and I’m not just talking about the students, the teachers loved him.”

“Really…”

“Uh-huh. He was part of a lot of orgs, he actually mellowed out a lot when we started college. I expected him to be part of the major–”

“Hold on.” You reached into your shopping bag and took out the notebook you sniffed and clicked an apple-scented pen. “Go on.”

“Are you planning to write his biography or something?” 

Rick meant it as a joke but you weren’t kidding when you informed him, “More like a research article.” You paused. “Also, can you keep this a secret between us?”

He thought for a moment, then he laughed. “All right. I’ll help you.” In his mind, he was convinced he was playing Cupid when he stuck up his pinkie finger and began counting, “Debate team, book club, wrote a few feature articles for the school paper, was a camp counselor for four consecutive summers, volunteered at homeless shelters and what else… he was always in the top five performing students and…for some reason, he never played any sports.”

Apple green ink filled the page as you wrote maniacally. “This is great. Do you know any long-term girlfriends?”

“Please, Mark Grayson and girlfriend? Long-term?” He chuckled, then he stopped and hurriedly added, “He was young, we all were, but maybe now he’s thinking of something more serious, people change. He’s a nice guy, I swear. I think. I don’t actually know him, know him–”

Your hand moved faster when it wrote “no serious relationships.” You then cut off Rick’s rambling about a man’s ability to change for the better, “How about his parents or family?”

He shifted in his booth uncomfortably. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you that.”

You leaned over the table. “Please?”

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to ask him that. My lips are sealed.”

He was stubborn. You doubted that you could get him to talk about more, but his silence told you plenty. 

You jotted “bad home life” on the paper and then retreated into your seat. You stared at the words. You thought of Mark, confident and always smiling Mark. You then pictured a little Mark experiencing all sorts of horrible things that little boys shouldn’t go through, causing your good mood to plummet.

It didn’t take long for a new distraction to arrive though, and this one came in the form of a cutesy dog mascot holding a tray of bite-sized desserts. 

“Cake samples?” The voice was a forced higher pitch, meant to emulate a kids’ cartoon character, but you recognized it easily. You’ve been replaying that voice in your head and from the clip recordings in your phone. 

Rick didn’t though, and he reached for a mini cupcake. The dog smacked his hand away.

[Ding. Darkening: 26.4%]

“Hey!”

“The cakes are for the lady.”

“What?”

“Bakery policy. For today. If you want a taste you need to go visit the store.”

“I never heard of that kind of policy before.”

“Ever heard of ladies’ night? It’s the same, a promotional thing.” The dog turned its comically large head back to you and held out the tray. 

“What are the flavors?” You asked.

“Um… this one’s clearly chocolate, and this one is strawberry, er, raspberry I think–”

“I can’t really have any?” Rick interrupted. 

You heard the dog take a deep breath before answering, “I don’t know what to tell you, pal.”

You picked up an orange-colored cake. “What if I take two and give him one?”

“That’s–”

You were going to hand over the cupcake to Rick but the dog snatched it from your finger and forced it into Rick’s mouth.

“Whampf!” 

“What’re you doing? He’s going to choke!” 

“He’ll be fine,” remarked the dog as it gave Rick a not-so-gentle pat on the back.

Rick swallowed hard and coughed. He took big gulps of his milk tea, grateful that he didn’t have to worry about swallowing any sticky pearls.

When he recovered he glared at the mascot. “What is your problem, man?!”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

A young man wearing a sando shirt and sweatpants ran into the food court, a security guard right behind him. He glanced around and when he saw the dog he wailed, finger shaking, “There he is! That’s the thief!”

The mascot muttered, “Crap.”

Before anyone could move, the system dinged and a loud BOOM followed, shaking the whole mall and causing the ceiling behind you to collapse. Thick, black smoke crept into every space.

You and Rick were dragged from your booths by the mascot. “Get out of here.” 

Not wasting time, you grabbed Rick by the wrist and urged him to run.

“What was that?!” He yelled.

“No idea, but I know it’s something we can’t handle.”

You two were several steps away from the exit when another piece of the ceiling fell. 

You shoved Rick forward and stepped back before the debris could hit both of you.

He shouted your name.

“I’m fine! Just run!” You shouted back. “I’ll find another way out.”

You were about to sprint to a different route when a hulking man with a cybernetic arm was sent flying over you, hitting a nearby support beam. 

That was close. 

But before you could breathe in relief, the man groaned, pushing himself up by the elbows. He blinked and turned to you. He gave you an icky smile.

Double crap. 

Invincible shot like a bullet, slamming into the villain and sending a shockwave that had your knees collapsing beneath you.

The sound of rushing water multiplied as the two broke more and more pipes and triggered the sprinklers.

You put your hands on the corners of your lips and yelled for Invincible.

A blur of black made threw the man to the wall and made its way to you. 

“Are you hurt?”

His voice came out muffled because of the giant mascot head he wore. 

There was no time for any smart remarks as you pointed at a hole they created leading to the basement parking lot. “You gotta take the fight outside before you level the whole mall.”

“Good idea–” 

He pulled you into an embrace and spun around just as a red beam sliced the air and hit the chairs and tables behind you.

More thick smoke covered your forms.

Invincible held you by the waist. “I’m getting you out of here first.”

“If you get us out of here do you think he’ll follow you or destroy the building?” 

You didn’t wait for his reply and pushed against his chest and he reluctantly let you go. “Take the fight somewhere else, drop him in a pool or the river before he hurts more people.”

[Host, the miscreant’s about to fire another laser.]

You gestured again towards the basement. “Go.”

“But you–”

“Now!”

He flinched but was already in the air. “Okay. Promise me you’ll get out in one piece.”

You smiled wryly. “I’m tougher than I look.”

[Ding. Affection: 57%]

Once Invincible dragged the villain elsewhere, the rescue team arrived in no time. You didn’t even have the chance to get your purchases because the firefighter was already carrying you out the food court and to the mall entrance, where Rick was being interviewed by a cop.

When he saw you his shoulders rolled slumped when he sighed. You could tell he wanted to give you a hug but you raised your hand placatingly. “I’m fine.”

A paramedic sat you at the back of their ambulance and began taking your vitals. 

You obediently offered your arm for the blood pressure cuff and glanced at the mall.

There was more destruction than you anticipated. The windows of top floors were shattered and angry red flames licked the sky. Sirens screamed from everywhere, but even they couldn’t cover the cries of surviving loved ones.

***

You stepped out of the shower and changed into a pair of loose pajamas. 

There was a tapping on your window.

[Invincible is here.]

I can see that.

You walked over to unlatch the lock and push open the window.

The dog head was replaced with a pink motorcycle helmet with cat ears. He sheepishly lifted your soaked shopping bags. “They were like this when I found them.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You took the bags from him and smiled. “But thank you.”

“Just part of the job, miss.”

You stared at each other for a while.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, enjoy your night–”

“Do you want to come in?” 

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” 

“You…”

“What’s wrong?” You asked, laying down your purchases over your bed to air them out.

“I just…don’t you, I mean, are you fine with letting strangers inside your room like this?”

“Not typically, but you saved my life and you did go out of your way to bring me my stuff. Come in, take a seat, let’s–” mhhhmmmhm “–chat.” You weren’t even going to bother asking how he, Invincible, could have located your current address as a so-called “stranger.” 

[Ding. Affection: 58%]

“Um, okay.” He floated inside and landed softly on a flower-shaped rug. The helmet glanced around. “Nice room,” he said, standing awkwardly and looking out of place in your tiny dorm. 

“Thanks. I didn’t design it though.” The credit goes to the World Consciousness.

“Roommate?” 

“Don’t have one.”

“You lucked out then. It’s really hard getting a compatible roommate, usually you get freaks.”

“You in college?”

“Ye–no, no, no.”

You chuckled. “Do you want something to drink? I can make you some tea or coffee. I’ll turn around so you don’t have to worry about the secret identity thing.”

“You’ll make me something?”

“I’m not actually going to make anything, I’ll just be putting a teabag or instant coffee in hot water.”

“That’s fine!” He jumped lightly and began levitating. “I’ll have some tea.”

“What–”

“Any flavor.”

You walked over to your kitchenette. Your fingers traced the drawer containing your collection of tea and then you realized something. 

“Sorry,” you said, moving towards the electric kettle instead. “I ran out of teabags, are you okay with coffee?”

“Sure!”

The comforting aroma of coffee filled the room in no time as you stirred the powder. You then searched your cupboard for any snacks and found two butterscotch bars.

When you turned around, Mark was still in the air, examining your bulletin board and desk. 

You returned to his side and handed him the mug and candies. “You can take a seat.”

“Does my flying bother you?”

“No, in fact, it fascinates me.” You held up the coffee mug and butterscotch bars. “I still can’t get over the fact that some people can fly here.”

“Here?”

“It’s weird.”

“Not really?”

“It is for me, for us regular folks, I mean.” You watched him stare at the mug and asked, “I have to ask, how do you fly?”

“I dunno the science behind it, I just do.”

“You never felt the need to find out how?”

He shrugged. 

Flight was relatively normal in their society so it made sense how blasé he was, but if it were up to you, you would cut him open and see which parts did what. 

Invincible rotated in the air, flipped open his helmet and took a sip of the coffee.

You crossed your arms. “I’m surprised caffeine even works on you.”

He laughed, sliding down his visor before facing you again. “It doesn’t, but I like the smell. Great coffee, by the way, what brand do you use?”

“Nothing special.”

He flew a little closer. “I doubt it, I–” He looked over your shoulder. “What’s that?”

You followed his gaze and saw that the pages of the notebooks you were airing out have flipped. Without hesitating, you made a swan dive towards your bed, but Mark was faster. He snatched the notebook with green stains.

[Ding. Affection: 40%. Darkening: 35%]

“What is this? Why do you have notes on Mark Grayson?”

You pushed against the bed and tried to shuffle to a stand, but he was right in front of you, pushing the pages towards your face.

The back of your head hit the mattress and Invincible seized your wrist. 

“Did Cecil send you?”

You can’t believe your beloved stationery would betray you like this. 

Stay calm, you told yourself. 

“Answer me,” he hissed, he dropped the notebook and grabbed your other wrist, pinning you down.

“Why do you care? Are you friends with him?”

“I-I don’t need to be friends with anyone to worry about a possible stalker.”

You were grateful for his helmet. You would’ve caved instantly if someone did this to you while making eye contact. Also–

“If you want to intimidate me, maybe lose the kitty helmet,” you said. This tactic would have worked better if you didn’t know who was Invincible. It was like watching a sheep cosplay a wolf. 

“They’re not cat ears.” 

“They’re triangular.” You were certain you saw this exact helmet on display in the mall between one in bubblegum pink and another colored sparkling blue. 

“Enough!” He was straddling you now. “Tell me the truth, are you part of Cecil’s team? You already know that I’m–”

“Fine, I will tell you.” You faux sighed. “The reason why I have notes on Mark Grayson is because he interests me.”

Half a beat passed before he said, “Are you trying to say that you…like him?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you have those creepy notes?”

“Creepy is in the eye of the beholder. Love follows knowledge and vice versa.” If someone went out of their way to learn about you, you would be flattered. 

You turned your head and glanced at the pens and highlighters littered next to you and added quietly, “I’m good at studying.”

You could sense him thinking under those cat ears and opted to stay silent as you observed him. What was going through in his skull right now? You wanted to cleave it open and take a peek. 

You shifted under him, your knee accidentally brushed against his thigh and his breath hitched.

He pulled back and rose into the air. “Sorry,” he mumbled before vanishing out the window. 

[Ding. Affection: 65%]

You lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Was he being polite when he complimented the cup of joe you served? 

Or does his kind not register bitterness the same way human tongues do?

You got up from the bed, picked up the notebook he almost ripped apart and sat at your desk. 

You then wrote: “Doesn’t taste/unaffected by dishwashing liquid (?)”

Truly fascinating. Your blood heated up at the prospect of learning more. 

***

The tap squeaked when Mark turned it.

Hot water washed over his hair and back. It was a relief to be rid of that helmet, and that awful mascot head. The entire day he was reminded why he opted out of a mask for his costume.

Humans have a tendency to ignore what’s in front of them; that’s how he and Eve and so many other pros managed to keep their secret identities. 

Still, knowing you, he couldn’t risk showing his face.

Mark leaned his forehead on the wet tiles. 

That coffee was weird, but at least the butterscotch was sweet enough to cover the uber-bitter aftertaste. 

He closed his eyes.

Your room was more cluttered than he imagined. Books and printouts were on every surface, even the floor. There were a few posters of singers and bands and TV shows and movies, he even spotted one for Seance Dog. Clothes were haphazardly strewn over the furniture. He had to avert his gaze when he found a bra strap peeking from under your pillow.

He groaned, remembering how cold it was tonight, and how your nipples pressed against the fabric of your shirt.

His fingers twitched.

The lips of your ghost brushed his ear. “He interests me,” you whispered. 

He ran his right hand over his belly.

He tried to recall the feeling of your knee on his thigh and crotch, tried to picture you beneath him, but then he saw your face. Your pretty face was bare and he saw the bruise around your eye.

His knuckles turned white as he grasped the tap.

Ice-cold water rained over his hair and neck and down his chest and stomach. 

He thumped his head against the wall, cracking the tiles. “Shit.” 

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Author's Note: I feel like I missed something...mmm. Well, whatever, I need to grind for Skirk WAHAHAHA

Disclaimer: The images used in this post do not belong to writerclaire. They were lifted from the following sources:

Invincible flying

Alternate Invincibles

CHAPTER 9: Coming soon. Series Masterlist

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