#and has weird mind control powers

[macospersonalhell]

thinking of making a Bioshock tma AU. this in fact appeals to only me and maybe one other person.

[bayetea]

I already finished my tlh reread and I'm rereading it again because I'm nursing some Thoughts about jason 🤔

[supersecretmetalocalypseblog]

they never mention how the revengencers came to figure out mind control via DK songs, but I just realized where they might've gotten the idea. The Teenager

After that scene where the Klokateers play the 'I downloaded your soul' song (too loud), the kid never talks again, doesn't really seem motivated to do much of anything, and kinda doesn't respond when spoken to. I had assumed it was because his hearing's shot now, but it could also be that he's like, i dunno, half mind controlled or something like that. But, my point is, that Edgar could've noticed "boy yeah there's something not right with this kid" and then further deduced that using the power of DK songs you can mind control people? Like does that make sense? Because a lot of the other Revengencers are the same way (don't really do much, don't really say anything) but I will say the Teenager seems to emote slightly more than they do, like he smiles when he shoots Charles, so i think he's acting out of self motivation/desire for revenge and not mind control. I dunno, I'm tired I just thought of this.

[tuxxydo]

thinking about how the hadouken is the first step for disciplined ki control. How ryu's ki manifests similar to electricity and ken's manifests as fire. thinking about how blanka and birdie shares these affinities (lightning for blanka. fire for birdie), albeit undisciplined.

blanka—through constant consumption of electric eels and having to face the harsh jungles of Brazil—was able to manifest his ki as lightning. Birdie—thanks to prior wrestling experience, most likely frequenting bar fights, and already being a hot-headed individual—his ki naturally manifests as fire.

[mothofmyth]

DC x DP

The Justice League summons the ghost king.

Unfortunately, the safest way JLD can find requires a host body to contain the being.

Obviously Superman, Wonder Woman, and Flash are out - who knows what this being would do with a super-powered body. They have no idea how Captain Marvel or Green Lantern type magic would interact with the summoning, so not them either. They need Constantine and Zatanna to perform the ritual.

Basically it's down to the bats.

Batman tries to volunteer - better him than one of his kids if anything were to go wrong.

That gets vetoed. As do a lot of his offspring. The safest options (ie the least contaminated by magic, lazarus water, time shenanigans, and everything else) are Red Robin, Spoiler, and Nightwing.

Nightwing pulls rank.

After a lot of arguing, everyone at least agrees to tolerate the arrangement.

Nightwing removes every possible weapon from himself, allows himself to be tied to a chair in the middle of a summoning circle, and waits for JL Dark to complete the ritual.

It's not long before he feels a surge of cold burning through him.

He expected to be unconscious while the Ghost King took over. That's what Zatanna said had been reported the last time this ritual was performed many years ago.

They had all expected a lot of things.

Pariah Dark was supposed to be terrifying to behold - a massive, cruel, FURIOUS dictator who turned to violence at the smallest sleight.

This was... definitely not that.

Dick was present. He had no control over his body, but he could see and hear in an almost dream-like state. Foggy and indistinct, maybe a little warped, but definitely present.

He felt his heart rate and breathing pick up in panic even though he felt mostly calm (or at least no more anxious than he had been, waiting for an angry deity to possess his body and all). It was a strange sensation.

He felt the vibrations of his own voice as it left his throat, high and confused.

"Wha... Where..." It asked, warbling and afraid.

He felt his eyes blink and his limbs struggle against the bindings.

His head tilted down without his say so, and he looked at his own body as if through rippling water, warped lenses.

"I'm not..." His voice came out, still confused. Still afraid.

"Your Majesty?" Zatanna asked from beyond the limits of the circle.

His head whipped up, and he felt his neck click at the abrupt motion.

His breathing picked up again. Dick felt the ghost (pun not intended) of anxiety, like it was leaking from the other consciousness inhabiting his body.

"We mean you no harm. Our associate has agreed to lend you his body for the duration of this meeting." She continued.

Dick felt the king's anxiety again, stronger this time. Other emotions too, guilt, sorrow, anger, and a strange sort of pressing-tugging sensation.

Suddenly, Dick was back in control. He could still feel the king's consciousness, stronger now than before, but he could also move and speak freely.

"What just happened?" He mumbled, speaking to the ghost, not the audience of heroes.

"Nightwing?" Someone called from outside the circle, but he ignored them for the moment, feeling instead the consciousness inhabiting his body push back fear, guilt, and apology.

"Yeah, it's me. He's still in here, though." Dick frowned, trying to figure out how to interact with the being.

He heard a voice in the back of his mind. It sounded like him. It sounded different. It was younger than him. It was small and afraid. It was neutral and quiet and him. But it wasn't. It was speaking. It was silent. It was emotions and thoughts and nothing.

"Oooookay, this is really weird. I think we're communicating. I don't know how to talk back, but if he's in the same situation I was a minute ago he should be able to hear us just fine. Is that right?" Nightwing tried.

The 'voice' (he figured he'd call it a voice for now. He wasn't sure what else he could call it) responded in the affirmative. Like a hand outstretched, flipping up and down in a 'kinda' type of gesture. Like a nod and a hesitant smile. The feeling of victory by default.

Dick beamed.

"Okay yeah he can hear us." He announced for the benefit of their audience. "Why didn't you stay where you could speak? Wouldn't that have been easier?" He looked at his own chest, as if he could somehow find a way to see the presence inside of him.

Disgust. Guilt. Fear. An unexpected step at the bottom of a staircase. Falling off a pier into tempestuous water. A stranger pinning your hands above your head.

"Oh." Dick breathed. "Thank you, but I can handle it."

Guilt. Guilt. GUILT.

"Okay. It's alright. You can speak through me or we can manage like this." He soothed.

"Nightwing, report." Batman demanded.

"Uhh, right. I think he's trying to be courteous? To me, I mean. From what I can gather, he doesn't want to possess me or take over. He seems pretty repulsed by the idea, to be honest. I think he can see and hear and generally experience everything I'm experiencing, he's just more passenger than driver? I can feel him, and he's communicating, he just can't speak through me without taking my autonomy again, and he really doesn't want to do that." Dick explained, looking at the various states of thinly-veiled bewilderment across the faces of the heroes.

"Ask him if he's Pariah Dark, High King of the Infinite Realms, Ancient of Rage and Destructio-" Constantine begins, before Dick cuts him off

"I just said he can hear everything we're saying. Ask him yourself."

Constantine huffs. "You heard me, mate. Are you him?"

Denial. Contemplation. A battle. Single combat. A crown made of black thorns and green flames. A throne too big for he who sits in it. Victory. Desperation. Insufficiency. A question.

"I think..." Dick starts, trying to understand. "I think he's the King... but he's not Pariah Dark."

Agreement. Apology. Questioning.

"He wants to know if we're looking for Pariah Dark, or if we're looking for the High King of the Infinite Realms." He glances between Zatanna and Constantine, uncertain of the answer himself.

Constantine pales.

"Whatever is inside you defeated the ancient of Rage and Destruction in single combat, Nightwing. It's a powerful motherfucker, and a total unknown." He warns cautiously.

"Get him out of there, now. Send it back." Batman demands.

TERROR. Pleading. Unbearable suffering. Shiny metal dripping with green blood. The end of love. Unfathomable loss. Death without release. Unending torment. Begging.

"NO!" The voice tears its way out of Nightwing without his consent.

Cowering. Apology. Apology. Guilt. Apology.

Dick clears his throat. "I don't think he wants to leave."

"All the more reason to send it back." Batman growls.

"Don't." Dick protests. "I know it's a risk, and there's a chance it's manipulating me. But, something doesn't feel right about all of this."

"Ghosts are well known for their skills regarding manipulation, mind control, and emotion tampering." Zatanna cautions.

"According to those dehumanising rags maybe," Constantine scoffs.

"Every source we have-"

"Two sources, Love. Both of which have a bit of a vested interest, wouldn't you say?"

Fear. FEAR. Frustration. Heartbreak. An unheard voice in a crowded room. A layperson lecturing an expert. Mockery. A spectacle of suffering. Lies. Hurt. Fear.

"He agrees with Constantine." Dick pipes in.

Exasperation. Reluctance.

"I don't think he's too happy about it." He laughs.

"Of course he agrees with Constantine, he's giving him what he wants." Red Robin huffs.

"He's afraid." Dick's voice cuts through the argument and the heroes turn to look at him. "I don't know exactly what's happening, but he's terrified of being sent back."

Zatanna sighs. "Let's do what we came to do, and then maybe we'll talk about letting him out."

(Something goes wrong and Dick and Danny end up stuck like this for a while.

Dick moves back into Wayne Manor while they try to figure out how to remove Danny from Dick's body without hurting either of them.

Everybody starts referring to Phantom as Dick's little passenger.

Eventually they repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts and find out all of the trauma Danny's been through via talking and dream/memory bleeding between him and Dick.

When Danny does finally manage to tumble out of Dick he is promptly adopted into the Batfam (what did anyone expect, he's a traumatised young teenager with black hair and blue eyes and barely any sense of self preservation).

In the meantime, however, Dick is happily going about his daily life with his little passenger, and Danny is still very traumatised but he's also contentedly curled up in Dick's chest, thrumming with happiness whenever Dick takes care of him.

Once or twice when Dick gets into Big Danger while vigilante-ing, Phantom forcibly takes over Dick's body to save him, using his ghost powers to fight the bad guy and escape the scenario. He cries afterwards because even though he needed to save Dick's life, he knows how terrifying and violating it feels to have someone else controlling your body (thanks Circus Gothica) and never wants to put anyone else through that.)

[layla4567]

Something for you

Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n doesn't know that Bob likes her, but she wonders why he acts weird when she's being nice, maybe she has a sneaky suspicion

Warnings: fluff, a little bit suggestive, ex-avenger reader (no superpowers), curse words, Bob being a shy pookie (muah), beta read, no appearance of The Void (just mention)

A/n: I haven't seen the movie yet lol, I just started playing with my imagination and what I remembered from the trailers/TV spots

It was an open secret that Bob was attracted to Y/N. A lot, to tell the truth.

Well, the only person who didn't seem to notice was Y/N herself. In the small complex where everyone now lived, they constantly watched the small interactions between her and Bob.

The little ex-avenger always, always showed herself to be extremely kind and empathetic towards Robert, but it was because she perfectly understood everything he had been through and despite the fact that everyone saw him as a powerful man with the strength of a thousand men capable of leaving the whole world in shadows, for her it wasn't like that. When y/n laid eyes on Bob she only saw someone vulnerable, someone who needed to be contained and supported, like a lonely puppy eager for love.

On the other hand, the brunette man felt a deep affection and respect for her. Y/n was the only one who was patient with him and always showed understanding. Yelena was also a great help by listening to him and not judging him, but the almost maternal warmth that Y/n radiated was incomparable. If she were metal, he would be a magnet; he couldn't help but always be close to her or follow her as if she were a planet and he were a satellite orbiting around her.

Of course, this generated some suspicion among the other members of the group. Everyone knew about Y/N's kindness, but some thought it was excessive and she was actually hiding something more. Also, Bob's attitude toward her was nothing new, but they even found it a little blatant how obvious his feelings for her were.

The memories of that mission with Bob are still fresh in everyone's minds...

..Some time ago..

After the others learned of Valentina's true plans to use Bob as a weapon, the group hatched a plan. They would rescue Bob at all costs.

They still couldn't believe they'd been tricked like that, or maybe they were; Valentina's bitch-like attitude wasn't anything new. But Y/N was the angriest and most hurt. It's not that she trusted Valentina; she wasn't that stupid, but imagining the torture they inflicted on a poor, innocent man made her blood boil.

She was always a reserved person, able to control her temper and not explode; in fact, it was rare that she get truly angry. But this time, that was one of those times; she hated injustice. The others perceived it, her calm face was wrinkled by her frown.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the laboratory where they had the brunette locked up.

He was on some kind of stretcher, he seemed asleep. Y/n approached carefully, his chest rising and falling peacefully, was he unconscious? She moved a lock of hair out of his face and he frowned, waking up in fright.

Please don't be scared, we won't hurt you, I promise, calm down" Y/n crouched down and raised her hands in surrender. He looked at her, not only was she pretty but something in her serene features told him that he could trust her. Robert aka Bob got off the stretcher and let Y/n gently guide him. She always had a hand near him, on his bicep, his wrist or his back, guiding him and giving him security and comfort, and he thanked her for it with silent glances full of affection.

As we left the building and dodged several guards, a person dressed as a chicken suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a sign ready to attack us. Bob, scared like a child, covered his head with his arms and hunched over slightly. Y/n stood in front of him, serving as a shield. The chicken-man was fighting with Bucky but suddenly seemed to turn his attention to Bob. He moaned in fear, and that's when something woke up inside the girl, an anger never seen before, a strong protective impulse to take care of that brown-haired boy who had suffered so much in life. She wouldn't let a creepy son of a bitch ruin everything.

"OH HELL NO"

Before the stranger could get any closer, Y/n gritted her teeth and, growling, landed a strong punch in the middle of his mask, which knocked the man out and left him unconscious on the floor. Robert, seeing himself out of danger, slowly and cautiously lowered his arms, watching the scene in bewilderment. His gaze wandered from the fainted man to Y/n's, a little in shock. She, afraid that he was now afraid of her, spoke to him gently and sweetly.

"Sorry about that, are you okay?"

He gulped. "Yes, thank you." She smiled in relief, and they got into the truck. Y/n sat in the back seat next to Bob, watching over him. She occasionally glanced at him until she slowly slipped her hand over his, holding it firmly. He looked at her in surprise.

"You're safe now, we won't let anything happen to you" she smiled

He nodded and blushed slightly. They both stared out the window. Bob's thoughts were now troubled, and not exactly by The Void, which seemed like a miracle. No, now he couldn't get that benevolent face that had saved him, his guardian angel, out of his mind.

..Present..

The complex was pretty quiet that time, almost everyone had left except for Yelena and Alexei and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of the TV.

Bob was sitting on the couch in front of the television, his body upright and his hands in his lap, looking calm as usual. They were playing a comedy show he'd never seen before, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, smiling at the screen from time to time.

Y/n was in the kitchen with Alexei, helping him dry the dishes. He cleared his throat and, with a smirk, said, "How are things going between you and Bob?" She looked at him a little confused "What do you mean by that?" He laughed. "Oh, nothing, you know, do you like him? He seems to like you more than the others."

Y/N blinked and stopped moving her hands over the plate. "Uhm, well, yeah, I like him. He's kind, friendly, and sweet." The girl's gaze softened when she mentioned Bob, causing Alexei to raise his eyebrows with a mischievous smile. She noticed and shook her head. "But that's all. You know I'm always nice to others, and if he approaches me, it's simply a reflex action."

"If you say so... just don't be surprised when I yell in your face: I told you so!! when you're making out and groping him," Alexei finished with a laugh.

Y/N gasped in disgust and hit him affectionately on the shoulder as she finished drying everything and headed into the living room. There she saw Bob with his back to her, focused on the TV, with only his broad shoulders and wavy brown hair sticking out of the couch. She came up behind him, touching his shoulder.

"Hey, can I sit down?"

Bob jumped and she giggled softly, then nodded several times "o-of course" She sat down next to him with a kind smile, crossing her legs comfortably. Now the boy's body was no longer relaxed as before, but very tense and rigid. He secretly glanced at the girl next to him, admiring her profile. His eyes fell on her long eyelashes, moved down to her nose, and rested for a few seconds on her lips, so soft and rosy.

Suddenly, Y/N turned her head to look at him, and he quickly looked away to the TV.

"Have you seen this show before?"

"Uh no, this is the first time" He swallowed

The minutes passed and her laughter filled the room. He smiled at times, but all his attention was on her, on her melodious, cheerful voice, or on the way her nose wrinkled in a smile. Suddenly, she leaned closer to him, and Bob's breathing quickened. The brunette boy tried to calm his nerves, but with her so close, it was difficult work. Y/n was focused on the TV, waiting to see what would happen next, unaware of Bob's reaction. At one point, she burst out laughing as she bent forward and placed a firm hand on his thigh. Bob gasped loudly, his mouth open as his face turned red, and his hands gripped the seat of the couch as if he were going to fly away. The warm sensation of her hand on his leg sent an electrifying shiver through his body, especially his lower stomach.

The former Avenger continued laughing, amused, not noticing anything until she turned to look at him and realized his hand was on his leg, and he seemed uncomfortable. "Oh shit, so sorry!" she exclaimed, embarrassed, and quickly pulled her hand away, much to Bob's relief.

"N-no worries, I-it's okay" he stuttered nervously. Then he exhaled all the air he had been holding and his body momentarily relaxed again.

Now an awkward silence settled between the two and they didn't know how to break it. Y/n felt confused and a little embarrassed for having made him feel uncomfortable although she didn't know why, when she was very close to him Bob seemed to almost reject her or appear a little indifferent, was it that he didn't like her? But if so, why did he always seem to follow her around like a dog? On the other hand, Bob felt so embarrassed and shy as to tell her the truth, but he hated to imagine that she thought he couldn't stand her and he didn't want to make her feel bad either.

Just at that moment Yelena came out of her room to go to the kitchen where Alexei was still cleaning, only to see that scene and roll her eyes. "How long are they going to keep this up, huh? I swear if they don't confess to each other right now, I'll punch them both in the face." She said to Alexei

He let out one of his characteristic laughs. "Patience kid, I'm sure something will happen today," he concluded mysteriously.

In the living room, Y/n didn't know how to make things better. Resigned, she sighed, "Fine, uhm, I think I'll go. I won't bother you anymore. Sorry."

Bob, surprised, watched her get up with puppy dog ​​eyes. Before she could completely walk away, he raised his hand and gently brushed his fingers against hers. Y/n turned to look at him, confused. "Wait, don't go... you weren't bothering me" he said shyly.

"So why do you act so weird around me?" She crossed her arms.

He stood up hesitantly, standing near her, swallowed, took a breath and sighed "uhh well, it's just that..." he didn't know how to find the courage to confess "It's just that I think I like you..."

y/n opened her eyes in surprise and he got more nervous and blushing he blurted out "Uh well actually I don't know if I like you that way, I'm not saying that you're not pretty so that he wouldn't like you!, I mean you're very beautiful and very kind to me and uh" Bob seemed to stumble over his words and she just smiled tenderly. He realized he looked like a fool so he closed his eyes and said "The only thing I know is that when I'm with you I can be myself, well, almost. You know, sometimes The Void wanders around my mind and it bothers me but when I'm with you he seems more... silent. And, and it makes me feel good, with you I feel good and it's something I haven't felt in a long time. Yeah, just that"

He finished with a nervous smile and stared at her expectantly, praying that she wouldn't run away or hate him or something. But no. She would never do that and deep down he knew it. The girl simply gave him a sincere smile, one of those that don't come so easily to others, a smile that radiated warmth and shone like the sun itself. Y/n approached him and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her back and rested his face in the hollow of her shoulder, feeling safe.

"I.. I didn't know that you felt that way for me. And I thought you were scared of me maybe" she giggled

Bob laughed softly, and she could feel his smile against her skin. He pulled away slightly. "You could never scare me, especially knowing that you don't fear me" he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Y/n smiled compassionately and placed her hands on his cheeks, giving him a kiss on the cheek very close to the corners of his lips. Bob froze, surprised, not expecting that sudden and sweet gesture. She laughed amusedly and softly asked him "May I?" looking at him with doe eyes that made his heart pound hard as if he could faint at any moment.

He nodded vigorously and she closed her eyes and placed her lips delicately on his. At first he blushed and she felt the heat of his face but then he closed his eyes and let himself go. The kiss was tender and sweet, not wanting to rush things, she didn't want to pressure him, she just wanted him to adapt to the rhythm. But quickly, as if he had wished for this a long time ago, he slowly lowered his hands to her waist, holding her firmly in place and his mouth opened to speed up the pace. When things started to heat up, she brought her hands to his hair, caressing the back of his neck while he leaned closer to her, not wanting to let her go.

Unfortunately, before they could move on to the next level, a cough and a clearing of the throat put them on alert, quickly separating and looking at the person who had interrupted them. Yelena had a serious face and her nose wrinkled slightly in a disgusted grimace.

"I swear to God, if you start doing it on the living room floor, I won't be cleaning anything up the next day. In fact, I'll make you clean up your mess."

Alexei arrived right behind the blonde laughing but then seeing Bob and Y/n far from each other his face turned into disappointment "Oh c'mon!, I missed the fun"

Y/n looked away blushing and trying to hide a smile, Bob smiling shyly asked her "so that means that I... I mean that you, feel the same way?"

She caressed his face "I thought it was already clear" and laughing she gave him another kiss on the cheek and said goodbye going to her room.

As she passed by Alexei, he shouted, "I told you!!!" She walked down the hall and simply stuck her middle finger above her head.

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[ushas42]

Bringing this back because, yeah, it is looking more and more likely to me that Klaus is back on the castle of his own free will and as a prearranged part of the plan. My best guess is that he intends to scuttle the ship on Castle Heterodyne as soon as the time stop is lifted.

So yeah, I think quite a few people are going to have to decide very quickly if their loyalty to the empire means loyalty to Klaus or loyalty to Gil. In that respect, the group chosen to infiltrate the castle are, by sheer coincidence, very aptly chosen.

The Jagers? 100% loyal to the Heterodyne first and foremost. The Vespiary Squad? Would probably be delighted for a chance to wring the Baron's neck after what he did. Martellus? If he's given a diplomatic excuse to slit the Baron's throat so much the better.

Boris? Well, he's loyal to Klaus unto death, but he already suspects that the Baron is a revenant, has put thought into what to do if that were the case, and his definition of "loyal" might well include "putting the Baron down like a dog if that's what he would have wanted in his right mind".

This will be interesting.

I'm not sure I agree with Martellus's assessment here. Yes, I think he's right that this is an attempted attack on Mechanicsburg, but I don't think the Queen of the Dawn is behind it. I think it's much more likely that Patel is acting on standing orders from Klaus himself, regarding what to do if it looks like the timestop is about to be lifted. It being the Queen of the Dawn requires that Patel be either a revenant or loyal to Lu/Zola, neither of which I think are likely. It being Klaus only requires that Patel be more loyal to Klaus than he is to Gil.

Because we haven't really been dwelling on all the conflicting loyalties that are about to pop up once there are two Baron Wulfenbachs running around. I can't imagine that Gil hasn't given it a lot of thought, but what's the plan? How are they going to prevent Vole's predicted "messy, terrible, civil var"? I know Gil doesn't *want* the empire, but as things are he can't safely hand it back over to Klaus. They'd better have a way to yeet his ass back to Skifander or some such or this is only going to get worse.

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[evilminji]

Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?

And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!

Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???

JUST SOME DUDE™!

Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?

On the SURFACE!

This place seems utopian!

No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!

Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!

Cause see?

There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?

Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)

Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.

Through the Zone.

Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.

They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?

And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!

If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.

No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.

Just? Imagine~☆

The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"

Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.

He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.

They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏

I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.

As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.

I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.

He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.

And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.

Either, Or.

I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.

There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!

@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation

[orphicsun]

⟢ 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐯𝐢 + 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⟢

warnings: 18+ content, powerbottom vi/slightly bottom vi, whiny subtop reader, bush mentioned bc i'm a huge bush enthusiast, different headcannons so just beware of filthy stuff.

⟢ Has the wettest pussy known to womankind. Gets wet thinking about your whines as you fuck her over and over again, and drips enough to create a huge wet stain in the fabric of her panties. During sex, she uses it to make a point.

"Look, baby. You've got me dripping down your hand.."

⟢ Likes receiving a lot, but is far from a pillow princess. She loves telling you what to do to her, making you needy with her words, then burying her face between your thighs after you take care of her. You pretend like it's the worst torture, but a part of you loves curling your fingers up into her walls for hours until she can't take the overstimulation, then being rewarded with her tongue splitting apart your sticky folds before she devours you.

⟢ Likes riding the strap because it gives her more control. She doesn't mind laying down and taking it, but it gives her more power when she can be on top of you while receiving. She likes teasing you when you get flustered, and loves it when you get too needy and have to grab her hips and fuck up into her because you get so desperate to make her cum.

⟢ Eye contact while you fuck is a must. She will stare you down when you can't quite meet her gaze while you're on top of her and she is telling you how fast to go, how nice you feel inside her, noticing how your cunt is dripping arousal down your legs. She encourages you to go faster and grind your hips against her to make your own cunt feel good.

⟢ Rare times when powerbottom Vi is just...bottom vi. Sometimes, after a long day or when she is feeling vulnerable, she just lets you fuck her. She will whine for you and tell you how much she's needed this all day. Just spreads her legs for you and asks you to eat her out until her thighs are shaking and your poor head, squeezed between them, is in need of some oxygen. Oxygen isn't as much of a need as the taste of her cum, though.

⟢ More reader orientated, but Vi loves when you fuck her for your own pleasure. She just lets you use her as if she were a pocket pussy, laying on her stomach and feeling you grind against her ass as you tend to your own clit. Why? She is a huge whiner enthusiast. Loves hearing you whine and gasp and huff while you're close to orgasm. Naturally, the only friction you get from grinding against the base of the strap (and her ass) is not much, so you get frantic with it. Vi likes control, sure. But the part of her that likes being fucked loves being used in a very sweet and loving way.

⟢ Loves when you finger her from behind because it makes her squirt every single time..she gushes around your fingers, her orgasm explosive. Her favorite part? When she falls back into the bed on her stomach, in a weird half-bent, half laid position, and your body just flops onto hers. She feels your tits pressed against the firm, broad muscles of her back, she can imagine the way your nipples trace her tattoo..immediately finds herself wanting round two. (this one is based off of this art but reversed).

⟢ Boxers are her idea of lingerie. In nothing but a pair of classic flannel boxers and a white wife pleaser (sometimes shirtless if she is extra horny), she just walks around the house very casually. Her pussy is dripping but you can only notice that if you're looking there. If she isn't satisfied enough with the attention you give her, she just wraps her arms around you from behind while you're busy and leaves sloppy, wet kisses all over your neck.

"I'll be waiting in bed if you wanna be a good girl tonight and fuck me. Wore this just for you."

⟢ BUSH ALL THE WAY. Hasn't shaved and doesn't care. She knows you like it, too. She likes the way you moan on her clit when you eat her out and your nose brushes against it. She gets off on tangling her fingers through your hair and humping your face. If she isn't in a pair of boxers, the front of her underwear ride low enough for you to see reddish pink hair peeking out from the hem.

⟢ Loves kissing while fucking. She shoves her tongue into your mouth while you bottom out in her. She likes swallowing your whines, and pulling away from the kiss with a trail of saliva connecting your lips. She likes kissing while you cum together, too. She loves the usual, praising or degrading you while you're on top of her, but something about just the sound of your lips smacking together during the peak is more intimate. It's quiet and loud at the same time.

⟢ Vi praises and degrades depending on her mood. If the sex is slow and sweet, she tells you how good of a job you're doing. She tells you how good you fuck her, and how she wishes you could feel her squeeze around the strap. She whispers it into your ear like a secret, too. If it's one of those times when the sex is rough and she gets wound up enough, she tells you how pathetic you are. She points out how you whine as you fuck her and how gross you are for getting off rubbing your clit on the strap. It's all consensual and she knows it turns you on, though.

taglist: @witzs, @bewareofmyglock, @ruelezz. taglist form

YESS IM SERIAL POSITING TODAY finally got out of my small writing funk

[moonsaver]

AE!Sunday getting nightmares while everyone's asleep and unable to sleep again because of them

AE!Sunday who checks if you're awake by sending you a small text, getting a silly response back and making him quietly chuckle.

AE!Sunday who quietly tiptoes to your room when you invite him in after he tells you he can't sleep – neither can you and what better joy is the one that's shared joy?

AE!Sunday who learns how to play the numerous videogames you and stelle do on your phones, makes an account for himself and lets you do most of the work to kill the op bosses. He tries to use his weird mind control powers on the videogames when it doesn't listen and it backfires because now he's dizzy and the game restarts all over. You laugh at him and he sends you a warning glare before zoning out in his dizziness again.

AE!Sunday who you practically have a sleepover with,, you make horrendous tea for the both of you, he tells you his wing-care routine, both of you braid each other's hair, you play around and tease some of the angels that follow him. They stick cute little stickers all over him; nevermind the contrast of the hello kitties all around the eye in the center of his outfit.

AE!Sunday who you do skincare with. You choose to do the horrendous animal face masks with him and take photos. Turns out he's wearing one upside down. But it doesn't matter now because you have blackmail material... nevermind the fact he has the same photos, too.

AE!Sunday who tells you childhood stories of him and Robin – but the solemn mood is shaken out of him when he looks up to see the angels sprawled over you while you listen attentively, with that dumb animal facemask still on, making him chuckle again.

AE!Sunday who confides in someone else for the first time. He tells you his nightmares and his fears and you tell him your insecurities. You both have a heart to heart, and eventually end up laying down on the floor with scattered pillows and puzzle pieces about you when the words start flowing out of your mouths like you two were old friends.

AE!Sunday who lets you brush his wings while he talks because it calms him down. Its a soothing feeling brushing through them, too.

AE!Sunday who falls asleep then and there; maybe even you too. But before your heavy eyelids close, you peek out to see his sleeping face and the various angels comforting him even in his sleep.

AE crew who find you two sleeping on your room's floor in a mess, because you two slept in and missed breakfast. March is a bit salty, but takes a photo anyway.

[see-arcane]

There is so much to love about Sinners, but one of my favorite parts was the running theme of flipping the table on static storytelling tropes. And my favorite out of that pile?

Christianity is not the Magical Universal Good That Keeps the Monsters at Bay, and Hoodoo—or, nodding to cinema history, [INSERT ANY NON-CHRISTIAN FAITH HERE]—is not the Weird and Wicked Supernatural Scary Evil, Only Here for Curses and Pearl-Clutching Taboos.

In Sinners, Christianity isn’t held up as an evil in itself, but it is held up as itself, specifically as it actually came to be when it was introduced (forced) onto those people who never asked for it, didn’t want it, and had gods and cultures of their own which were largely crushed underfoot by colonialism and doctrines that generations were forced to choke down to the point that modern descendants now follow and spout a religion their ancestors had to have slaughtered or beaten into them. Remmick, an Irish vampire revealed as being old enough to have been a young man in an era before Ireland had been overtaken by Christianity, at the cusp of having it forced on them while their land and rights were stolen, can recite the Lord’s Prayer verbatim. Those words not only do nothing against his vampiric nature, but he admits the words give him comfort, even as he still hates the men who forced those words upon him and his father.

That scene coupled with Sammie’s interaction with his own father in the church was so beautifully and insidiously vindicating. Because Remmick and Sammie’s father are both leading congregations. They both have these groups of people following along, reciting what they want those groups to recite—even as they both come from groups that this religion was forcibly grafted into, they stand in places of power and command, and therefore it has become good! They both want Sammie to use his musical gift for their purposes, not his own wishes. They both disregard his fear and pain as they lay hands on him before staring crowds who wait to see him bow to their will.

Vampirism is the greater existential terror, especially as it is under Remmick’s rule. A potentially eternal undeath that traps the spirit and has one single controlling mind puppeteering their body and will. But Christianity as it’s framed in the reality of Sammie’s life is shown explicitly not to be the savior of the story, having so many of the same bones as the nightmare he barely escaped with his life.

Give up your gift and your desires and your free will to the Church, son, it’s the only way! Be a lesson for my followers and then we can acknowledge your torn face and the blood on your clothes and the absence of your cousins! Drop the guitar and give yourself to worship and leave behind all the evil sin that is joy not taken from sitting and reciting the Bible! Drop the guitar, son!

Then we turn to the Hoodoo and to Sammie’s musical conjuring. Annie’s magic and expertise is the only reason anyone survived the night as long as they did, and the only reason anybody was lucky enough to die as a human being. Her mojo bag saved Smoke’s neck from Stack twice, whereas everyone who went outside and got jumped by Remmick—or, in Grace’s case, rushed out in a literal blaze of glory to stake her turned husband—who might have worn a cross or been some manner of churchgoer, all got taken out by the vampires. Sammie’s power is not part of a Christian magic, but as the film points out, it is sacred. Those strings and his song pulled reveling spirits from the past and the future to dance with the present. That passion, that talent, that joy, that humanity, was so magnetic that it cast a spell...

…and it did so in what his father and many aghast others would deem a den of sin.

Sinful because of dance. Because of games at a table. Because of sex had for the sake of pleasuring each other—notably, each time with a miserably married woman, both getting to experience lovers who actually wanted them to enjoy themselves (sorry about that climax, Stack), rather than rote marital rutting for its own joyless sake. Because of nocturnal jubilation, separating oneself from the labors of life and the constriction of ‘polite and upstanding’ society.

Raucous joy is sin.

Faiths other and older than Christianity are sin.

Refusing to let yourself be absorbed into a coercive collective, no matter how well it sings or friendly its smile, is sin.       

Sin, sin, sin. The movie sins in this way, and so many glorious others, if only because these things which are not evil are painted with the label of ‘sin.’ Things that ‘are not done’ in a civilization choked by white supremacy and an increasingly puritanical Christian lens that leans deeper and deeper into disdain for empathy while championing strict control and obedience to patriarchy, bastardizing itself even as its original messages of love and goodwill are stretched so far and thin as to be nonexistent.

It’s sad to know how timely this story is. Here we are in the 21st century, strangled by conservative overreach on so many monstrous levels. But the story of Sinners does exist and it is being played like a loud and joyous song. A thousand thanks to Ryan Coogler for doing this all so artfully and so powerfully. I honestly can’t recall the last time I’ve seen such a thing on screen, if I’ve seen it at all. Here’s to more of it.

[ancientnapdragon]

Not sorry everyone but I have more Jiuyuan brainworms. Scumcum be upon ye

This flavor: Yams has been reading Too Many "I accidentally saved the villain?!" Style stories.

On my phone as usual so forgive my weird typos

Shen Yuan wakes up and is told he's been transmigrated into Proud Immortal Demon Way. He has no idea what in the hell that is.

SY isn’t ignorant! He loves to read! But usually his standard fair involves mystery and is more grounded in reality. The only stuff he knows about the Cultivation Genre is what little his sister has shown him and some general cultural stuff.

A System appears to tell him that he has been given a powerful new body and his duty is to save the protagonist from his horrible suffering backstory... Then the System fucks off. He is given exactly one Systen-issued power: the suffering meter. With this, he can look over people's heads and see how "blackened" they are. The closer to 100% the worse off they are- and the more likely to do bad things!

SY has been given the body of a Demon Lord; he's part Death's Pure Butterfly and is as pretty as he is deadly. He has some vague memories and senses from his Original Goods. The guy was feared for his skills as an assassin and was quite crafty with poison, on top of being able to control all sorts of insects from the common grasshopper to huge demonic wasps. He was sent out here to kill... some... cultivator guy? A Peak Lord? What was that?

(The Original Goods was supposed to take Luo Binghe hostage during a mission early into his disciple stay. The Original Goods thought that Shen Quinqiu would surely take the bait to protect one of his students, which would allow him to kill the Peak Lord... instead, it was one of the first chips in LBH's mind that his Shizun maybe didn't care about him. The Demon Lord was killed and LBH only survived the powerful poison thanks to his hidden Heavenly Demon bloodline.)

After getting his bearings he spies his target: a very pretty man with a gaggle of kids, all looking to be in the "preteen/early teenager" stage. Most of them seem to just be fucking around while the smallest kid is being forced to dig up some roots with his hands. The man is sitting in the middle with his eyes closed and a fan out, ignoring them all. SY uses his Meter ability and... woah...

That guy has like... a 97% full meter. Some of the kids have like maybe 15 or 20%, the kid digging even has a 32%, but the Cultivator guy...

That must be his target! Don't worry, Protag, SY will keep you from turning evil!

(This SY, not understanding genre conventions, does not seem to understand that the Tragic Backstory has already happened to SQQ. Which is why his Blackening is so high.)

SY ends up being clever and using his insect controlling powers and a less potent poison to knock out the kids and the guy. Feeling bad for leaving the kids out here, he finds an emergency talisman on the man and uses it before flat out just kidnapping him.

SY ends up taking him all the way back to his palace in the demon realm. He's the last of his bloodline and his people are really loyal to him, so this should be the safest place to be! When he gets back and orders some of his staff to help him make SQQ comfortable they're all very confused but go along with it. One of the staff has the foresight to put a Spirit Dampening Bracelet on SQQ. It doesn't seal his Cultivation like binding cables but it does weaken it to be near useless and has the bonus of being a tracking device.

When SQQ wakes up he is very confused and even more mad. He's been laid in a huge bed and is basically being treated like a princess. After bullying one of the guards outside of his room he realizes where he is and who did it. He very quickly realizes a few things. The most pressing, however, is that he has very clearly been Bridenapped. If he can't escape (or be rescued, but he doesn't hold his breath for that) from here within the next 90 days, the Demon Lord that captured him will marry him...

Cue a very confused SY trying to give this very angry and combative man things to heal his damaged Cultivation, make him happy, and just generally being nice to him to try and bring that Meter down. Meanwhile, SQQ thinks they're playing some 5d chess mindgame and he REFUSES to lose.

(The System finds this all very unconventional, but it does look at LBH who seems to be having a much better time and shrugs this off. YQY is frantic and tearing himself apart trying to find ANY clue on where Xiao Jiu is. SQH is really confused since he knows he didn't write any of this. MBJ is wondering if he should Bridenap his own Peak Lord; he is the only one who actually knows where SQQ is because of the trade agreements with SY...)

[baskeigh-ball]

posting some mind swap doodles to prove im still alive, so have a few headcanons :D

- Leo in Mikey's body is pure chaos, he has no boundaries when it comes to modifications to "his" body in order to feel more comfortable in his own skin. For example, he gave himself his old markings to cover up Mikey's spots (only around the eyes tho, the arm and leg markings would take way more time.) He loves using Mikey's mystic powers/weapons at first, but eventually feels too weird about it and switches to his own weapons/gear to cope

- Mikey reins him in whenever he gets a little too confident in using his mystic powers though. Mikey is always hovering nearby to make sure Leo doesn't decide to go overboard, fully aware of Leo's lack of awareness when it comes to his physical limits, let alone when he's in someone else's body

- Raph is on the opposite side of the spectrum as far as modifications go, only willing to give Donnie his tech back and wear arm wraps to feel more like himself.

- The only tech he has to keep is the battle shell, especially after realizing just how fragile Donnie's body really is. He becomes refuses to take it off for days at a time, and when he does finally take it off, he's extremely paranoid and puts himself in the safest spot possible: his own room, bundled up in pillows and blankets.

- He also is woefully ignorant in how the battle shell is operated, so it goes haywire pretty often in the beginning. Donnie has to be nearby and ready to be damage control for a long time before Raph becomes confident enough to operate the battle shell's most basic functions.

[codnasties]

mafia!price x mafia!reader 🚬 (🌽 link)

a lot of times, mafias end up operating in the same areas, and that inevitably leads to fights over territory. that's what's going on between your and price's corresponding mafias. and it's been going on for quite a while without apparent solutions.

because the two of you are way too different to see eye to eye, to leave your egos behind for the sake of peace and maybe prosperity. it for sure stems from having different backgrounds. you had been born into it, your father was in this mob life, and so was your grandfather and even your great-grandfather. on the other hand, john had built it from scratch. a young kid with an obscure background that got taken in as a teen, quickly climbing up the other mob's ranks until he got named

that difference is precisely the reason why he sees you as a spoiled bitch with a severe lack of manners. and the thing is, you seemed to prove him right every single time. like tonight, both of you present at a charity gala - good public image is also business - and you didn't even have the decency to talk to him, not even acknowledge his presence.

it made him mad, it was not only about manners, it was the way you didn't openly recognise him as your biggest adversary. it made price's blood boil. it bothers him so much that he ends up snapping - which is extremely weird in him -. quicky pacing to you, the useless things you have as bodyguards not even stopping him, grabs you by the arm and starts pulling you out of the venue. dragging you all the way to his bedroom without being interrupted - because no one dares to -, people looking at him worriedly as you keep screaming at him to unhand you.

he won't hear you out, it's about time someone teaches you manners and respect. throwing you onto the bed and climbing on top of you. grabbing one of your hands and forcing you to wrap it around his throat in a desperate attempt for you to finally perceive him as an equal.

when you refuse to put some strength on your hand and at least try to choke him, he snaps. his own hand around your jewelry adorned neck, his thumb pressing down on the artery running along it, cutting down the blood flow to your head momentarily and also feeling how fast your heart is racing and pinning you onto the bed.

in that second that your mind takes to come down from the lightheaded state, he has already flipped you over and bunched up your dress and gotten himself a good bite of your juicy ass. his face sliding lower until his nose is bumping against the wet patch forming in your panties, taking a whiff of your sweet aroma.

this can only lead to one place: hot steamy hate sex.giving you a good spanking to teach you a lesson before he rips the black lacy thong off your body and kneels himself at your feet, his tongue now exploring the inside of your sweet cunt. his lips latching around your clit as you push his head even further into it.

he makes you believe you are in control, until he almost snaps the straps of your dress getting your tits out just so he can grope them, pinching your sensitive nipples. making you suck on his hard cock, your tongue swirling around his flushed tip. pushing him onto the bed so you can pleasure him better while giving him a good view of your cleavage.

because that's what all of this is about, making you believe you are the one in a position of power between the two of you. and he shows you how easily he takes it back. grabbing you by the waist, pushing you onto your back on the bed, and ripping that dress off your body, leaving you fully naked with the exception of your glinting necklace and earrings.

bullying his bulbous tip into your tight cunt, your walls squeezing trying to not only trap him in but also get more of his thick cock into you. and he fucks mercilessly, using your body however he likes. harsh deep thrusts making you cum as he starts spurting his thick seed in your pretty cunt.

maybe all that will finally teach you a lesson