#but apparently the powers that be decided that nope

[bluerosefox]

Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

[schwarz-san]

A Revenant for The Red Knight

Your typical Dp x Dc Summoning AU, but with a twist.

Jason is having a bad time.

The most of the family to be honest.

Why? Cultist. In Gotham.

One that worship some kind of All Powerful Eldritch Death Outer God from Beyond and plans to summon the Thing to this plane of existence.

The worst part? Most of the bats are being use as sacrifice. Wait no, the worst part is that Jason is the main sacrifice.

They did contemplate whether to use Jason or the Demon child, but end up deciding to use Jason instead. Something about being having essence of Death and the Multiverse in his veins and you know what? He's not gonna touch that with a ten foot pole. Nope.

The demon child is lashing out like the unvaccinated feral racoon that he is, Dick is trying to escape and so does Bruce as well as trying to make sense of the Summoning circle that the cultist were using. The replacement is snoring, the asshole.

Hah. Thats what he get for drinking five mugs of expresso instead of sleeping then gatting tranq.

Also, fuck Bruce for not calling Constantine or Zattana the moment they smelled something supernatural.

God, he hates magic.

The cultist started chanting by then, speaking in a language that no one understood—huh? Well look at that. He could apparently. He could hear them chanting in that unknown language and english at the same time, its over lapping. Weird, its like it was being translated especially for him since the others didnt seems to show any recognition with the words the cultist was using.

Except maybe the demon child, but the others? Nada.

"—Ruler of the inbetween, Heed our call. Defeater of the Dark Tyrant. Master of Space, The bridge between Every Realms, The Great One, The Balance—"

Thats a fuck ton of titles.

The circle began glowing green and fucking Lazarus waters began to pour out and thats not fucking good.

Pillar of unnaturally Neon Red Fire emerge from the Circle and destroyed the ceiling and shook the entire ware house.

A tall armoured figure emerge as the pillar of fire began to settle out. It was floating above the circle, looming over everything in a terryfing manner. Temperature began to rise as the being's Unnayurally white gaze fell upon them.

It was… a knight? A knight cross over a biker??? It also had guns which is weird and is that a fucking Bat Insignia on its chest?

Pressure from all side crash over them as the beings gaze intensified before vanishing all together the moment its gaze fell on jason.

After what seems to be eternity, the being finally spoke.

"Huh. His majesty was right, I really was that stinky and fuck up before he find me."

???

The knight biker then remove his helmet to reveal his own face with a domino mask with his color pallete just inverted.

The doppelganger then pull out his gun and began shooting down the cultist all against the other bats protest. One by one the cultist vanished in to tin air as if they didn't exist all together.

He snapped his fingers and the rope that tying the burst in the same crimson flames and vanished all together.

"What the absolute fuck is going on here?!"

Or cultist used kidnap batfam and use jason as a sacrifice to the ghost king to summon him.

They summon Alternate version of jason who is a halfa and work as one of Danny's Fright knight: Red Knight.

[madschiavelique]

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : after the mission, all you can think about is Miguel, up to the point where you can't sleep because of all your thoughts. so you go to the strength and conditioning centre to try and exhaust yourself. but miguel pays you a visit there, and the training takes another turn...

content warnings : mentions of blood, (if there are any others please do tell so i can add them !), reader is obsessed, no use of y/n word count : 3,9k

note : this is dedicated to the beautiful @gollygothgal , with tension and hot miguel hehe. here's the 2nd part of the miguel 3shot thingy ! i hope you'll enjoy it. i am currently thinking about opening up requests for miguel, so if anyone has got a juicy idea they'd like to see written, don't hesitate to send it !! <33

chapters' list : 1 - lovebite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission (nsfw) 4 - shameless (nsfw)

One punch.

He did it to help you, nothing more, there was nothing behind it, nothing unprofessional, nothing at all.

Two punches.

No, nothing, not even when you pulled on his hair and the moan in his throat vibrated into the bullet that was lodged in your flesh.

Three punches, the bag rocks.

Surely you're not the first person he's done this to, right? Dealing with this kind of wound in the middle of a mission must have been part of his daily routine after all.

Fourth punch, the impact spreads across the knuckles of your hand.

What if it wasn't? What if he'd deliberately decided to give you the special treatment of losing his time on the mission to take care of you?

Fifth blow, you were breathing hard. You stood back, your hands aching as they sponged your sweaty forehead with their backs.

It had only been a week since the last mission, and all you could think about was Miguel. Every five minutes the whole thing would start up in your head, sometimes so strongly that you felt it defined you. The spadassin of your logic kept chasing your imagination brazenly, it was trying to foam hollow ideas about him.

Was this scene really intimate? Or in your cruel lack of physical and sentimental affection had you simply imagined meanings for certain gestures that were pure delusion?

After the mission, while the anomalies were being properly stored, you went to the infirmary. There, you were asked questions that were still stuck in your head.

"What's that bite?" they asked about the two incisions Miguel had left in your skin, "and why is it all blue here? There's more ruptured blood than there should be..."

Apparently, the nurses had very rarely seen incisions of this kind on the bodies of other spider men or women, the only cases so far being on Miguel himself. The news had a strange effect on you. As for the clouds of bruises Miguel had left around the impact, the mere sight of them turned you into a red poppy.

So Miguel had never bitten anyone else on a mission to administer his painkiller... nope, let's not jump to conclusions!

Maybe gunshot wounds just weren't frequent on missions, haematomas or cuts were commonplace here.

After that, you were brought together with the others to report back. You hadn't been much help to the mission, apart from freeing Miguel from that foam. And after that? Too little contact and far too many thoughts.

The few times you saw Miguel, you only had time to say hello before he went about his business. The few words he'd say were "How's your wound?", and then he'd be off, busier than a minister.

And every day, as if you were watching the sky for a shooting star, you hoped. You hoped for a twinkle, a smile, just the possibility that your eyes might meet.

And every night, you would go over and over these tiny things that seemed gigantic in the eyes of your heart. And tonight, the same thing.

It was the hour when memories flood back, just when sleep goes on strike. You were trying to sleep, but you were tossing and turning, your mind replaying the whole scene like a power-point with multiple explanations attached to the images.

Just an focus, on the too pale clichés of a love story, on the state of mind of a woman without an alibi who dreams every night of a man whose existence you didn't even know existed until recently. Just a focus, for a little wink of survival, for all the fools, the love-sick, for all the victims of romanticism. Just a little wink, a focus.

You were tired of this perpetual propensity of your thoughts to redirect themselves to Miguel. There was nothing you could do, it was like trying to stop the sun from rising and setting. Because even with adamantine force, you can't stop the natural from happening.

You're more insignificant than the dust under his fingernails, you thought. Pull yourself together! Miguel has to look after a company of at least seven hundred people like you.

And it was true, Miguel had much better things to do than have anything other than a professional relationship with you.

You huffed and puffed in bed, sleep really not coming, so you put on your everyday clothes, prioritising comfort, and headed for the Strength and Conditioning centre.

If sleep didn't come, you'd wake it yourself. And so you found yourself boxing a sandbag. And honestly? It was harder than what you'd seen in the movies. Or at least, you felt some pain in your fingers as you punched, knowing full well that something was wrong, but not knowing what. The job of Spider Man wasn't new to you, but you had to admit that when it came to hand-to-hand combat, you missed some of the basics.

You glanced down at your hands, their knuckles reddened, and for a few seconds you remembered the ridiculously large size of Miguel's hand resting on your waist, then how it had felt when he had held your thigh in place, and you could have sworn that at that moment his claws had come out, sharper than a quarter of a strawberry.

If only it were possible for your mind to go on holiday, just to get away from the real Miguel City that had settled in your mind a little too quickly. You let out a grunt of frustration.

But your hair stood on end for a second - someone had just come into the room.

"What's wrong?"

You immediately turned your head towards the entrance, Miguel coming towards you. Your heart skipped a beat and you froze. For pity's sake, was this a dream?

The terrible thing about this mental affliction was that, although you visualised him more often than you should because you found that you spent less time with him, when the time came for you to interact as you would have dreamt of, the image of his red eyes went straight to the edge of your heart and you had the sudden feeling that you wanted to leave immediately.

If you come at any moment, I'll never know what time to dress my heart. Perhaps it was the extent of your desire that made you feel ashamed, and for fear that he would see it, hear it, feel it, you preferred to leave. But you stood your ground, giving yourself a mental slap in the face to pull yourself together as he came within a reasonable distance of you. There weren't enough moments with him, so you were going to make the most of them.

Your eyes widened slightly, because you'd never seen Miguel in normal clothes before. A hoodie with cut-off sleeves and loose jogging bottoms, simple and relaxed, but how could Miguel be relaxed? After all, he was Miguel.

He didn't look upset, which was a first. You were so used to seeing him frustrated, with that invariable weariness that accompanies him everywhere. On the other hand however, he was looking at you quizzically, and it was only then that you remembered that he had asked you a question.

"Oh, um," you said, resting the side of your fist on the bag, "I've never fought a war this tough, and to think that my enemy is just a sandbag," you smiled.

A sneer stretched his cheek, the thin crack between his lips letting a flash of light shine on his faintly glistening canines, and for a moment the image of them tracing your thigh came back to mind. It had left its mark on your mind, like a stain, and it won't wash off, no matter how hard you scrub your mind.

But a frown settled on his forehead, his eyes lowered to your fist.

"Hmm..." he said simply, crossing his arms over his chest.

You had to stop yourself squinting at them and keeping your eyes on his.

"Show me how you hit," he said.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Training with other spider-men and women was something you were comfortable with, the pressure was off, everyone learned a little from each other without judgement. But training in front of Miguel? The bar had been raised, the pressure of the stare oozing seriousness and criticism weighed on your shoulders.

Timidly then, you stepped away from the bag, and struck a blow with little confidence.

He nodded, the same retentive tt-tt being heard.

"Your fingers are in the wrong place," he raised his to show you, and as you mimicked his pose, he moved closer to you and took your hand to place your fingers correctly.

It was the first time you'd felt his hands naked against yours. They were far from soft, but they were warm, callused by time and effort. It seemed to you that he could lock your fist in his hand with ease, and the vision of his hands rearranging yours gave you the impression that every bit of skin he touched lit up and sparkled with little stars.

It must be that you couldn't mithridate your desires for him, your body and your thoughts returning to the charge to drink it all in, to take any crumb of his presence and his touch that you could get.

His annoyance seemed to return for a moment, his knuckles running over your reddened and cracked joints. He blew out a breath, and the frown disappeared.

"There, try it again", he said, barely moving away.

You came down from your little cloud and struck again. You were almost tempted to disturb your fingers again if it meant he'd put them back into place.

"Keep going," he said, taking a step forward and starting to circle around you.

You swallowed, continuing the task, taking great care not to look too ridiculous. You punched a few more times, Miguel having made an arc and stopped on your other side.

"Your posture is not right," he remarked, and you shivered as his hand came to rest on your waist.

Sliding gently over your belly, applying a minimum of force to better guide you to perfect your posture. You felt his hand come up and pull slightly on your shoulder, putting your arm back in a more favourable position at the same time.

"You need to find a balance in your body when you strike; if you put everything you have into your fist, the rest can be used too easily against you" he said, his tone calm.

But it was a little too complicated to follow his instructions now, especially when you felt his breath landing on your ear and the back of your neck. Every brush of his fingers and skin against yours made your cheeks flush and gave you a real peony look.

His other hand came to rest on your hip, on that famous protruding angle of the pelvic bone, to reorientate your body. You inhaled sharply, but tried not to make it too noticeable. All that was missing was...

"Is everything all right? Your heart rate seems to have increased."

... the same question as last time. This time, there's no way to pretend you're worried about your team-mates who are on a mission. So what's the excuse this time?

"I ate a cereal bar before I came here, must be the sugar, no doubt."

Wow. Beautiful. Brilliant. Fantastic.

You crossed your fingers that Miguel didn't pay any more attention.

"Hm," he exhaled, "just spread your legs a little... there you go, like that," he said as his hand lingered lightly on your waist before moving away from you again. "Show me," he asked, confident that his modifications to your position would prove useful in your training.

Already more confident, you began to strike again. And after half a dozen blows, you turned to him, a satisfied smile adoring his face.

"Much better," he said. He raised his hand to the level of his head, index and middle fingers together, wiggling them, indicating for you to move forward as he stepped back slightly, "Now, show me how you'd do it in real life."

Wait, was he really offering you combat training? The great Miguel O'Hara, who had no time but for the great multi-dimensional organisation of spider-men and spider-women, had just offered you training?

Hesitantly, you moved forward.

"So you want me to fight? With... you?" you asked.

"Who else," he replied, opening his arms to encompass the room, completely empty apart from you two.

"I'm going to get crushed," you smiled as you reached him.

"I'll do my worst," he offered, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to make a fool of me?"

"No, otherwise I'd let you destroy your hands on the bag a bit more," he said, pointing at them, "you'll have to remember to put some ice on it.

Touché.

You felt a little guilty for taking up his free time, he who must have had so little leisure, so few opportunities to settle down without having to worry about anything. But at the same time, what did you have to feel guilty about, when it was he himself who had offered to help you? After all, it was he who had come to you. Was it simple pity then? No, let's not think about personal sabotage, let's just enjoy it.

"Come on, show me how you do it, I'll do it with one hand behind my back if you prefer." He says, not even pretending to get into a fighting stance.

"What an egalitarian spirit," you say, your voice coming out with a half-sigh, half-laugh.

Coming from one of the most capable and experienced Spider-Men in the society, how could you not shudder at the thought of fighting him?

So you positioned yourself, trying as best you could to put in place the investments he had just taught you. The thought of disappointing him was gnawing at the back of your mind.

Once you found your position sufficiently adequate, you dived towards him. With a move that seemed as simple as that, he dodged by leaning to the side while placing his foot against your ankle, so you fell pitifully to the ground.

Well, it wasn't going to be any fun after all.

"Remember what I told you," he said, coming towards you, holding out his hand, "if you put everything you have in your fist, the rest can be used against you too easily.

You looked at him for a moment, his brown eyes slightly crinkled by his little smile. Your cheeks warmed as you took his hand to stand up.

"Do it again," he said.

You breathed in, trying to concentrate and not think about the fact that you'd had more physical and vocal interaction with the object of all your thoughts in the last few minutes than you'd had in a week.

So you tried to balance your strength in your body, and came back to the charge, but you tried a surprise. You knew he'd probably see it coming a mile away, but why not try? So you gave him the impression that you were attacking him from your left, when at the last moment you deflected to the right.

And then you punched him in the cheek. The impact surprised you both, and Miguel took a meagre step backwards, bringing his hand to his cheek with eyes wide with surprise.

"Shit shit shit! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" you moved towards him in a panic, as if to check him out.

You'd just punched Miguel O'Hara in the cheek. But then, just as you were expecting to be shouted at and slammed into a wall in the next few seconds, he smiled, and the smile became a soft laugh.

You looked at him, completely stunned by his reaction. No anger, no exasperation, no threats or insults in Spanish, just a little laugh.

"That's much better," he said. "Don't worry, I can handle punches, but I recognize this is a correct hit."

You fluttered your eyelashes a few times in surprise before just puffing out your nose, a little laugh taking hold of you as well.

"Come on, let's get on with it" he said, this time getting into a fighting stance. He sweated authority, while you sweated... period.

You nodded in agreement, and the two of you began a battle of successive dodges and punches that went wide. He was holding back, you could feel it. He didn't strike a single blow, just tiny smacks with the back of his hand. So you thought for a moment, you were going to surprise him like he had surprised you with his kick. Could you take down a man the size and width of a fridge? Doubtful, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

It's as if, in the middle of the nettles, you'd found a patch of grass where you could put your foot down without stinging yourself. So you placed your leg correctly behind his knee, which surprisingly succeeded in throwing him off balance, and just as he was about to fall with a small stranglehold of his voice, his hand grabbed your wrist and dragged you down.

The shock was less, because you had fallen onto Miguel himself and his body had been used as a landing mattress. Out of breath, and not exactly aware of the situation you were in, you placed your hands on the ground on either side of his body to at least straighten yours and not crush him, your back bent like a wilting flower.

"Hey, is everything all right?"

Miguel grunted slightly, his eyelids reopening. Your breath caught in your throat as you realised the position you were in, and especially how close you were. Your faces only a few centimetres apart, your breaths colliding.

"Mhm," he said simply, "you did well, I must admit."

And as the simple feeling of victory took your heart by storm, Miguel grabbed you by the waist with both hands and rolled you onto your side, reversing your positions with lightning speed.

"But you're going to have to keep practising," he smirked, one of his hands separating from your waist to rest on the ground next to your head.

And your strength turned to water. Your gaze scanned his, and you wished you could see your own eyes just to know how much they betrayed you, especially when they inevitably drifted to his lips. You didn't need to lie to yourself, you wanted to, they looked so soft... It was the sensation of his thumb making a single, simple circular movement on your stomach that brought you out of your reverie on his lips, regaining his eyes.

"Distracted?" he asked, his eyes a little darker than before.

Sure enough, you had metamorphosed into a big red tomato. So your reflex was to bring both hands up to your face to hide it.

"Uh huh," Miguel prevented, removing his hand from your waist to move your hands away from your face, getting even closer. "What's there to hide, hum?"

His eyes seemed very observant of what was being said in yours, and you wondered if he could see all the emotions rumbling in your heart. You could feel the strands of his hair tickling your forehead and cheeks. The tension was so heavy and pervasive that you could have cut it with a knife.

"My desires," you whispered as an answer, clearing your throat and moistening your lips, your eyes moving tirelessly from his to his lips.

You gasp, the closeness between the two of you acting as a veritable truth serum.

"Tell me about them," he murmured.

You bit the inside of your lip, breathing softly. The inner battle was powerful. To remain silent and regret, or to say something and hope? What if it all stopped? What if it bothered him so much that he couldn't look at you any other way than uncomfortable? And what if... what if... And if I don't try anything, I'll never know.

"A... A kiss," you managed to say.

"A kiss?" he repeated, as if testing the taste of that word in his mouth. "Tell me, where."

You squirmed slightly, perhaps you'd be more successful in speaking your thoughts with your eyes closed? But when you shut them for a moment, you felt his nose brush against yours, his thumb on your hip again making circular movements.

"Where?" he asked again, both of you reduced to whispers. Still hearing no answer, he moved to kiss your forehead, "there?", but you shook your head. Then he kissed the top of your eyelid, "there?", and went on to kiss your cheek, "there?", his voice barely a whisper.

He brushed against your nose again, his lips barely grazing the corner of yours.

His eyes had a tender sparkle as he kissed them tenderly. His lips tasted of wood and rain, pulling back : "There?”

"Yes," you sighed, your eyelids half-closed, "there". You moistened your lips.

"I think I heard you wrong," he murmured. "Say it again."

You swallowed, trying to raise your head to kiss him again, but understanding your tactics, he buried his face closer to your neck, his lips brushing your ear.

"Say it again."

A shiver ran through you as his breath spread a wave of heat down your neck, straightening slightly to face you again.

"Kiss me, again."

And he came to kiss you once more, softly, dark and silent as the night. His hand ran down your body, up your side and over your back to push a little more of your body against his. Your hands came to rest on his cheek and back, your fingers snaking through his hair, nails lightly grazing his skull.

A moan bubbling up his throat reverberated on your lips, just like on the mission.

" If only you wouldn't make me want you..." he whispered between kisses, his mouth growing a little hungrier as his fangs nibbled lightly at the skin of your lip.

He came to kiss your jaw, your neck, drinking in your skin, breaths of ease escaping from your lips.

But suddenly, a small cluster of orange pixels appeared not far from your heads.

"Miguel we got a- oh hi there!" said Layla in a tone that was a mixture of playfulness and surprise.

You immediately turned your head to the side to avoid her, your cheeks flushing red. Your heart was pounding in your chest like a bird trying to get out of its cage.

"Go away Layla," he said though, his hand coming to take your chin, his eyes half closed, kissing you again.

"But Miguel it's-"

"It's very important for your future that you don't finish your sentence," Miguel growled as he moved from your mouth to your throat again, letting his canines lightly trace along your pulse line.

"And the situation is just as important for all our futures," Layla insisted.

Miguel grunted, sighing, and murmured softly:

"I'm sorry."

You kissed his cheek and he raised his eyebrows.

"It's okay."

He kissed your lips quickly.

"This is not over," he warned, sitting up and helping you to your feet. "Go and sleep now." Looking at your hand in his, he added: "And take care of this," pointing to your knuckles.

You nodded as he began to walk away.

"Oh yeah, Miguel has been keeping an eye on you!" said Layla, a small smile wrinkling her nose.

"What?" you asked, confused.

"Layla ?" Miguel called dangerously.

"Okay okay gotta go, goodnight!" she said, vanishing into thin air to come and stand next to Miguel.

The two of them left the room, and you looked at the exit.

What had just happened?

next part >> unexpected mission (nsfw)

[aroaceleovaldez]

was thinking about next-gen kids and decided to doodle a couple. elaborated thoughts below:

Iphis is named with the same naming conventions that Sally used when naming Percy - primarily, mythological figure who had a good fate. Nice for Percy to honor his mom by naming his own kid the same way and Annabeth gets a fun nerdy mythology name. Also sending good vibes to their kid. Plus middle name directly in honor of Sally, of course.

Specific myth is Iphis and Ianthe, with the idea that a.) it's gender-neutral so works regardless of kid's gender and b.) not only does Iphis have a good fate, but arguably nothing bad happens to them ever and they get helped out by like three whole pantheons who show up in a literal parade and they live happily ever after. Percy and Annabeth are pushing for the BEST vibes possible.

(Also I am a very strong proponent of the "I don't think they'd name their kids after dead family/friends" so none of them have that)

Iphis of course inherited the Jackson family early grey hairs <3

Virginia is named after Juniper (cause Juniper is specifically implied to be Juniperus virginiana). She's probably been childhood bffs with Iphis since Iphis was born.

Chuck is Chuck. I gave him a Yankees jersey cause you know he's being raised as a sporty kid.

Do you ever think about how OP Frank and Hazel's kid would be. It's ridiculous. Quadruple legacy, including 2/3 of the Big Three. Frank by himself was already so OP the gods had to nerf him. Hazel came back from the dead and Frank kinda just said "nope" to dying that one time. Hazel presumably has every power that Nico has which is. A lot. Not to mention what Hazel has been shown to just be able to do on her own (including but not limited to SINKING AN ENTIRE SMALL ISLAND). Ares/Mars kids can functionally be completely invulnerable sometimes and also have some limited necromancy. Combo that with Hades/Pluto kids also being hard to kill and having necromancy as one of their main powers. Not to mention how Pluto geokinesis might combo with Chloris (goddess of spring) powers? And this kid is 100% being protected by both Nico (who is probably a deity by that point) and probably Pluto himself as well? Hello?

Anyways Hazel and Frank's kid is a total powerhouse. Possibly functionally immortal. Easily strongest demigod of her generation.

I like to think the latent Chloris legacy would crop up (probably in combo with Mars and Poseidon's plant aspects) and give them an accidental Persephone-type theme and that's fun. Frazel's goth daughter who takes after her grandmother (and uncle).

Figured since Frank is Canadian and Hazel is from Louisiana they'd go for a French name. The flower theme was not intentional on their part it just happened. Law of demigod naming conventions appears nonetheless.

I figure Leo might not have kids of his own but he probably still hangs around with Hazel and Frank so of course he's going to make their kid a cool thematic robot pet. He's probably her godfather or something.

Ronan is literally just some kid who showed up at the Chase Space who coincidentally was a legacy of Freyr and could shapeshift. Magnus and Alex obviously can't have kids cause they're dead, BUT some orphan with essentially a combo of their powers just shows up on their doorstep? Their kid now.

The ironic part is of course their shapeshifting powers just happen to be because they're distantly related to one of Annabeth's friends. Ronan finds himself suddenly gaining two parents and two cousins (Iphis and Lily) in rapid succession.

He only picks up Magnus' last name though cause Alex has 100% disowned her mortal parents.

He has a seal flipper cause shapeshifting and apparently "Ronan" means seal. I just wanted to draw those two showcasing their shapeshifting a lil bit.

Might try to doodle the other next-gen kid thoughts I had at some point but idk when. anyways yeah.

[signedkoko]

GOSH, all your writings make me feel all bouncy and giddy I swear AaaAAAA

Feeling slightly inspired by your previous Lucifer and Lilith with a reader who ends up attacked, might I request a Vox X Reader, where while they're both out together, Reader notices someone apparently brave enough to attack Vox and just- autopilot takes the hit to protect him? Turns out afterwords it wasn't an Angelic weapon of any kind, so even though it's nasty and painful, they'll ultimately be okay...

But did Reader KNOW that? Nope. Could Vox have probably handled it himself with how powerful he is? Yep. Did either one of those thoughts even cross Reader's mind until after? NOPE.

Reader just saw harm approaching the one they love so much and just went into instant protect mode...

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which someone attempts an attack on Vox, but you decide to get in the way. Reader is genderneutral.

It was just another press conference, the same as all the others

VoxTek had a new announcement, and reporters flocked to be the ones with the most interesting story or the first, whichever got them more praise from their lousy boss

Both the CEO and spokesperson, Vox insisted on being the face everyone knew and saw, as well as the voice they all followed

You were a not-so-recent addition to his empire, and some cameras were sure to catch a frame or two of you as you waited on the side, smiling and waving to the crowd

You were only here because it made Vox happy and because you would rather be seen than not

VoxTek had some of the highest security, with mostly Vox himself watching over everything

You always wondered how he could keep track of so many tasks at once

But the screams of everyone sounded different, less like a thousand questions and more like terror, incomprehensible yells as someone broke through the crowd

They had a gun; it looked white and gold, you weren't sure if Vox hadn't noticed or didn't care

All you knew was that your body moved, and suddenly you were between the bullet and fov when it pierced right into your side

The space cleared of voices before one of the bodyguards tackled the man and wrestled the gun from his grip

While you stood there, clutching your abdomen, the lava-like pain burst through your abdomen

Before Vox could react, flashes began again, most of the crowd recognizing the occurrence or snapping photos of you stood there, still in shock from the shot

What did you expect from demons? They'd win a bonus if they caught the first image of you being shot

Before you can think much of it, Vox is running, carrying you, and applying pressure with his hand and yours over the bullet hole

Thank god the press release was in the Vees tower, he's laid you on a counter in the lobby, his jacket bunched up under your head and his claws tearing through your shirt to access the wound

There's no time for a hospital; besides, he knows everything, he can be the best doctor in the world in a second, and he's going to be if it means helping you

" Thank go- "

" Thank god what! I could take that shot! Shut up! "

You decide to listen because, well, you can barely speak through gritted teeth

He's calling Val to come down and bring any kind of anaesthetic.

He's able to fix you up more than enough, but just to be safe, he's called in his private doctor to come take a look at you

Once everything has calmed down and you're back upstairs with Vox, he's got a million different questions

Why? I mean, he could take a bullet with ease! hes moslty metal, everything can be replaced!

Even worse if you really thought it was an angel weapon, because that would have absolutely killed you!

" It's not like I had time to think, Vox. I just moved! "

He's frustrated that you'd ever be in harm's way, but it's hard for him to stay mad knowing you just wanted to protect him

Author's Note - I wasn't sure if I should go for an angst or romantic note on this one, but I felt a little humour coping was more like Vox so I went for romantic! Thank you for requesting 🖤

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Okay wait, this is so fucking funny to me.

K. So, stay with me on this one: Wally is dealing with people mysteriously floating away in bubbles that freeze people in time and also dealing with Grodd's army of time traveling Gorillas and also dealing with a bunch of sentient Gods and also dealing with a homicidal Bethesda glitch (aka Porcupine Man Part Two: This Time he's a 15 y/o named Chad) and also dealing with a delusional homicidal Bethesda glitch (aka the Folded Man) WHILE the speedforce is also glitching the fuck out and messing with his powers ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

Typical day in Central City, amiright?

Alright so all of this is going on and Wally is handling it, but no big deal I hear you say, there's like 50 speedsters. Wally has enough family members to handle this whole situation no problem.

Here's the fucking hilarious part. Okay, so, Jay? On family leave. Irey, Jai, Wade and Judy? Not cleared for active field work.

But still, there's always Wally's Kid Flash, his adopted brother and biological cousin, Ace West and Avery Ho, the pseudo sister of the Flash family and the biggest threat to Wally's title of 'Barry's favorite child' since... ever. Surely Wally can rely on them to-

Nope. Nevermind. They decided to do a different thing with Mas y Menos. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.

Well. Okay. No problem.

We can always count on Barry Allen!

I mean, Barry is retired but he sees the massive fucked up hole in reality that Wally is trying to fix (did I forget to mention that part? Yeah that's a thing as well), so obviously he would go help W-

Nope! Okay! Barry locked himself in his room and is sleeping through this apparently.

But that's cool because Bart is there! Bart showed up to help!

Annnnnnnnd they left him there. Okay alright. Cool. Cool. It's so cool. Because Wally called Max and Max is there and two speedsters are better than one and-

OKAY HOLY FUCK YOU GUYS

DC says that Wally is forbidden from having any help and is willing to maintain that rule at any fucking cost apparently

[solarmorrigan]

69 + 27 for steddie :)

I got really stuck on this one for a bit, but it ended up being one of my favorites. Thank you for the prompt!

From the Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up list: 69. Flirting Under Fire + 27. Sick/Injured Fic

cw: canon-typical violence, mentions of injury

-

It’s a little bit like date night, really.

Like, in a twisted sort of way.

They get some time away from everyone else, they’re doing something together, they get to appreciate each other’s skills and competency – so what if the activity in question is patrolling Hawkins’ cracked and monster-infested streets? Times are tough, they take what they can get.

In any case, Steve has found he very much appreciates the chance to watch Eddie snipe demobats out of the sky, or take demodogs out with a well-aimed shot to what could dubiously be called the head (curly-haired brunets with guns; apparently Steve has a very specific type. Go figure). Eddie, in turn, has made no secret of how he enjoys seeing the power and strength in Steve’s swings when he takes on all manner of beasts with his trusty nailbat (Mark 2. Nailbat Mark 1 had unfortunately splintered some time ago, may it rest in peace).

And if they decide to go to bed immediately after showering off the muck and ash once they’ve gotten home, it’s because they’re tired from patrol. Obviously.

It’s possible, though, that they’ve gotten a little too complacent. They’ve had a string of easy patrols, picking off single demobeasts or taking out small groups with the ease that comes with practice. There haven’t been any surprises or mishaps, almost like the monsters have fallen into an easy pattern of their own.

Or maybe thinking like that is where Steve slips up.

Eddie whistles as Steve follows through on a swing that crushes the ribcage of the final demodog in the small pack, effectively taking it out of commission.

“Nice form, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve drawls, turning a warm smile on Eddie that takes any of the sting out of his teasing, “because you know so much about baseball.”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “Who’s talking about baseball?”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, still smiling. He’s never had someone lay it on so thick with him – he’s never had the blatant flirting and the silly nicknames and the entirely unsubtle once-over glances, and he kind of loves it. He loves Eddie, really, but even in the midst of a mini apocalypse, it’s probably too soon to go around declaring that.

Instead, he glances around at the monsters strewn on the ground, and then at his watch. It’s nearly midnight; they’ve been out for hours, and this is the only encounter they’ve had.

“Think we’re done for the night?” he asks

To his credit, Eddie does a quick check of the area before stepping in close to Steve. “I’m nowhere near done with you for the night, sweetheart,” he purrs, and a shiver runs down Steve’s spine.

“No?” he asks, gaze flicking down to see the way Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Nope. Let’s go home and I can show you what else I have in mind.”

Steve is so distracted by the idea, by the thoughts Eddie’s words conjure up, by Eddie himself, that he almost misses it – the movement right in the periphery of his vision.

Almost, but not quite.

As it is, he barely has time to bark out, “MOVE,” at Eddie and give him a hard shove, getting him out of harm’s way. He doesn’t have time to follow.

The pain of the demodog’s claws raking across his side is so sharp that it burns cold, and the force behind the blow winds Steve and knocks his bat from his hands. He can see it drawing back for another swing—it’s the one he thought he’d killed first with a solid blow to its gaping maw—but he can’t move, can’t force his body to cooperate, and he’s about to die–

The sharp report of Eddie’s shotgun rings out, and the demodog jerks. Its head is gone, black ooze splattered all over everything (probably up to and including Steve’s wound, Steve realizes with a shivery sort of distaste), and then Eddie is at Steve’s side.

“Shit, shit, baby, sit down, you look like you’re about to–” Even as Eddie’s saying it, Steve’s legs start to shake hard enough that they practically go out from under him, and Eddie just manages to catch him before his knees hit the pavement.

Looking back on it later, Steve really only remembers snatches of what happens next: using Steve’s jacket as a compress (it’s ruined anyway), Eddie speaking frantically into the walkie to call for a pickup, Eddie talking to him low and soothing until Hopper’s truck pulls up, Hopper’s many varied and colorful swears as he helps bundle Steve into the back. Steve definitely remembers that he passes out sometime around when they dump the heavy-duty, Upside Down-grade disinfectant over the slashes in his side, and he’s grateful he does.

Eddie is there, sitting by the bed when Steve wakes up, looking like he’s aged about ten years in the grey light of what could either be dawn or dusk.

“Hey,” Steve rasps, aiming a tiny smile at Eddie.

“Steve, what the fuck,” Eddie demands, and it only makes Steve’s smile grow.

It isn’t exactly the first thing he’d wanted to hear, but it’s a very Eddie thing to say all the same.

“Wasn’t gonna–” Steve breaks off with a hiss as he tries to sit up a little further against the headboard, and Eddie darts forward to help support him, to rearrange the pillows and get him a little more upright. “Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Steve–”

Actually, fuck ‘too soon.’ Fuck waiting.

“I love you,” Steve says, and Eddie falls silent.

Steve doesn’t regret saying it—he could never, he’s pretty sure—but Eddie is quiet just long enough for Steve to get nervous before he’s pressing forward and kissing Steve, hard and full and insistent.

“I love you, too,” Eddie murmurs, the words almost lost inside Steve’s mouth, like he can’t even wait long enough to get them out before taking another kiss. “Never do that again.”

Steve kisses back, matching the passion as well as he can with what little energy he has, and makes no such promise.

He loves Eddie, after all. He could never lie to him.

[hugemilkshake]

Hey can you do more uh...self aware cookie run au with anxious reader? Just I can't help but imagine more scenarios of y/n being anxious and thinking 'OH MY GOD IM GONNA DIE!' Buuut end up spoiled by cookies. Here are some examples I thought up but if you think of anymore cute and fun things, I'd love to see em too!

Y/n goes to the hollyberry kingdom and meets pitaya. Thinks they are gonna die to dragon...nope, dragon just wants to encourage y/n to make smores or roast jelly dogs over their flames and if a single one of the cookies who sabotage the competition even think for a SECOND about interrupting that, then they got another thing coming!

Y/n thinks they are gonna die to the licorice sea or the traitor affogato cookie when encountering them....sea acts kind to y/n somehow (or just ignores em...your choice lol) and affogato just wants to spoil y/n with sweets! (Bonus: instead of joining the COD....they go with y/n as something along the lines of 'you know what? I don't want to take over this kingdom anymore. I don't want it anymore, I want y/n! King, I admit to everything, please banish me so I can run away to y/n's kingdom!') Lmao!

Golden cheese kingdom...y/n goes in, thinking glitches are gonna kill em buuuut all the digital cookies make sure y/n is feeling safe, happy, and comfortable....aaaand golden cheese gives em lots of hugs lol! Can imagine being wrapped up in her wings feels really good!

Enjoy the milkshake! I had to give an excuse for writing about affogato cookie- I mean, the dude caused me brain rot. Also I’m not writing any golden cheese stuff because smoked cheese massacred my team and I’m angry at that (my team had way more power than smoked cheese)

Somewhat plot relevant?

-platonic self aware au-

Normally you had means of controlling your anxiety but at this moment, there was no way you could control your anxiety. You were in the middle of a forest! And not even one in your own world! It was one in the game you had recently just gotten into!

You were only on episode 4 in the story mode so you literally had no clue where you were. You just sat on the ground and started to silently panic.

But at some point a cookie you did see once in the cookie unlock screen kinda picked you up and just took you to a palace? You don’t really remember what the cookie said but they weren’t hurting you! So that must mean something!

But you were now having a feast in this palace with a cookie who you learned was actually a dragon- well anyways the dragon said they were Pitaya Dragon, also known as The Red Dragon. You did panic for a moment before Pitaya told you to just chill out and have something to eat.

And you know what? It was actually quite fun! The Red Dragon talked about other dragons and nice fun stories while the two of you ate, you were sad to go but you had too. You got some berries and stuff you could sell as a wondering traveler. Though you did tell Pitaya you’d come back one day so might want to stay close

——————

You had gone from a warm and humid forest to a frozen wasteland. What’s more to say? You had everything you needed to survive and villages were quite nice to you, you had your own gear so you didn’t bother them too much.

But you did befriend a peculiar cookie when you were by the Dark Cacao kingdom…

A cookie who looked quite lavish found you and seemed a little lost and panicked… kinda how you were when you first got here…. You felt bad to the cookie so you went to talk to them

Apparently his name is Affogato Cookie and he was banished from the Dark Cacao kingdom on the grounds of the false accusations of him trying to upstage the king. Poor guy…

Now since Pitaya Dragon was so generous to you when you had nothing so you decided to help Affogato get back in his feet since you should be passing on others kindness!

What you didn’t know was that one Affogato lied to you, two Affogato had connections to Dark Enchantress and three, he would become your travel buddy. So now the two of you travel around as friends :3

[monimccoythings]

Classy Turtle

Okay, here’s part 2. Second parts were never good but I was dying to make this one. Just the mental image of it. Been watching the critics reviews of this glorious movie and every single one I’ve read are just terrible reviews of movies the audience absolutely adored (it’s the freaking Super Mario Movie, it doesn’t have to be the new Godfather) And those people who want to cancel Bowser, the villain of the Mario saga, for acting like a villain and singing a villain song that slaps? Are they okay? Don’t they get the basic concepts of villainy?

Previous Parts: 1

Next Parts: 3,4,5

tags: @loveforfandomsstuff​ @harpy-space​

You kept coming back to the palace to visit whenever you had the time. You really enjoyed spending time with your new friends and learning more about the Mushroom Kingdom. It’s like everyday there was some new adventure!

You also met the famous fearless Toad who had accompanied Peach and Mario throughout their dangerous journey to the Kong Kingdom and were lucky enough to eat one of his even more famous meals. You weren’t sure you had tasted something so divine in your entire life, goddamn it, Toad, drop the secret recipe book.

But if there was also a not entirely malicious ulterior motive for your visits, it would probably be your endearing wittle piano playing turtle that on his free time commited war crimes. It’s not like you were obsessed (liar), you just found yourself completely enamoured by the concept of some tiny musical tot that spoke highly of himself in a high pitched voice.

You were no fool. You knew he was dangerous and that given the chance, he would commit all those atrocities again. But he was SO LITTLE AND CUTE NOW. You just have to be careful with your gushing. The least you wanted is to cause the literal Third World War over a turtle.

It became an habit of yours to bring some gifts for everyone of your friends whenever you came to visit, and that included him, be it a tiny chair from an old house, a Ken doll, that always ended with his head chewed off, some lettuce (or whatever this turtle ate)...

Presenting him your offerings always was a tricky task. Peach and the bros had kindly drawn a perimeter around his cage that was called the “no-no zone”. Anyone that dared to cross that line, would meet their untimely end at the hands of a flame with the burning power of some kid using an aerosol flamethrower. Maybe it was a bit dramatic but he nearly burnt part of your hair last time so better not risk it, as he was an amgery firey boi. Unfortunately for him, you had put your wicked mind to use and had developed a system that didn’t put your hair or any part of your body in danger of suffering third degree burns. You called it “The Salad Tongs Solution”.

You had decided to use them instead of sticking to the classic put them in while he sleeps. Next time you tried to put a blankie over him when he slept he got scared so badly he went inside his shell and started spinning against the walls of the cages like some deadly top toy. Never again. Poor baby needed his beauty sleep.

So today, you were bringing in a special gift. After some rumaging through your old toys, you found some old tuxedo from one onf your dolls, you didn’t remember which one. But hey, maybe he would like this one?

Welp, he didn’t. As much as Mario would have loved to see him in it, nope, this turtle had expensive tastes and apparently this old tuxedo wasn’t up to his standards. Awww, classy turtle. The high pitched voice just made his rant look like an angry smurf that swore like a sailor. It was so adorable, you were not even bothered he didn’t like it. “It’s okay sweet baby!” You cooed to him. 

Bowser was bewildered at your audacity, your nerve! How dare you not praise him like the feared warlord he is! This will not stand! He will get out, and when he gets out the world shall get a taste of his revenge! You will bow to him in reverence! You will- oh, there you go again, looking at him with that dopey smile and those adoring eyes. Disgusting. Embarrassing. He is NOT a cutie patootie, thank you very much. He is KING OF THE KOOPAS, the strongest and baddest there is! That’s why you should look at him adoringly! Not because he is burger shaped!

A couple of days later Luigi sent a message with a photo attached to the groupchat. Opening it was the best decision in your life: there he was, your little buddy dressed in the tuxedo with the most disgruntled face he could make and being held with the salad tongs. A warm feeling spread through your chest, and for the rest of the day a huge smile was plastered on your face. He was such a dapper little gentleman.

[igotanidea]

Quiet: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Stubborn like a mule, Dick would never admit he fell for a teammate. Of course everybody knows and with the amount of teasing it won't take much to push him over the edge.

Inspired by Charlie Puth;s song Charlie be quiet.

Warning: it's long :D (20.971 words!) - that part was not planned :D

Seven years ago

„Stop staring.”

„What?”

„You heard me. Stop ogling her.”

“I am not….”

“Dick.” Donna’s voice was as stern as it possibly could. Despite her best effort she was slowly losing patience with Robin’s childish play of cat and mouse. Everyone, literally everyone, team or not could say he was head over heels in love with his teammate, Y/N Y/L/N, who also happened to posses the power of blue lantern. She was the third one to join the Titans, after the corps decided that the girl, born human, had to be near Earth’s green lantern to get access to her full power. Hal, who was supposed to be her mentor trained her well for a couple of years and despite their differences they become friends. So when the green one left her at the tower, arguing that she needed friends at the same age and with similar capabilities and assuring that she could always reach him if need arises, her heart broke a little. At first she was withdrawn, intimidating and hard to understand but soon her other, lighter side emerged. One thing everyone noticed about the girl was that everytime she was indulged in things that gave her sense of fulfillment the lantern’s blue light surrounded her, making her look ethereal and beautiful. Perhaps that was the thing that quickly caught Dick’s attention. Despite their initial fights and a lot of misunderstandings and communications problem they worked through it. Of course, only for the sake of the team, nothing else. Both Dick and Y/N were individuals who hated being told what, how and when to do, but also knew when to step down. She was the one to make him stop, think and analyze the situation before acting, he helped her in developing her intuition. In no time, he found himself falling for that introverted analyst who always, always had  a plan and was way too much in her own head.

“She’s gonna figure it out. Is that what you want?” Wondergirl mocked, knowing well enough that for the last couple of years Dick was doing everything in his power to keep this infatuation a secret. In his own words, it was not wise to get into relationship with someone who could be called into space at every second. And definitely stupid to love a teammate, which may cause a distraction and damage while fighting. He just kept coming with so many dumb excuses to adore her from the distance. At this point he didn’t even bother to answer Donna’s question since it was obvious Y/N realization of the situation would be the end of him. So he kept it quiet. Y/N was that kind of person who preferred to keep the emotions at bay as well, never giving him any sign she was interested in forming a relationship, more often than not pushing people away when she was scared and worried and stressed and vulnerable. Not really talking about it but separating to gather back her strength and balance. Well, she was the blue lantern, who got power from hope, so what else could you expect.

“Did you guys want something?” said blue one turned around towards her friends “you’ve been standing there for like a quarter now and it’s getting suspicious” she mocked

“it’s fine. We were just trash-talking you” Donna smirked

“Oh thank god, I was getting worried you were saying some good stuff about me. Such a relief” she fake-brushed her forehead. “Anyway, is anyone up for some sparring? I need to keep my spark up.”

“I thought you were  supposed to recharge? I mean… meet with Hal?” Dick frowned and a shadow of disappointment crossed the girl’s face as she shook her head.

“He was called on Oa. Apparently some threat appeared in the north side of the galaxy and Green Corp needs his immediate help. Nothing new, so yeah, I’m gonna go workout. Want to join me, Grayson.”

“Nope.” He felt his heartbeat fasten. Shit, it was getting harder and harder to be around her.

“ Ok. Donna?”

“Sure. I’m game. You can never count on the boys, right.”

“Hear, hear, sister.”

Just as Donna and Y/N left, heading towards the training room, Hank appeared on the other side.

“You did it again, didn’t you?” he let out a laugh “I would love to see you breaking one day.”

“Not a chance.”

***

Four years ago

“You’ve got to be kidding me” Y/N eyes went wide the second she entered the lab at the precinct. “it’s all for me?” it took a lot of strength not to jump out in joy. When, after the Jericho incident, the Titans fell apart and everyone went their own ways, she put all her intellectual efforts into science, biology and chemistry, taking first steps on a path to become a Forensic Scientist. With her stubbornness, passion and insight she soon got to be the best in the field. Last year was spend on working with the best detectives and investigators (including detective Chloe Decker from LAPD), getting hell of a knowledge and experience. And now, she moved to new city and easily scored a job at the best precinct in the whole country.

“Yep. All yours. Take your time and when you are ready, come meet the team. It’s quite big if you ask me, may be a bit overwhelming, so at first you’ll only meet with the best of the best. Those will be your regulars.”

“Good. I’m not exactly good with people.”

Half an hour later, the girl finally left the lab equipment, the books and agents and came down to the main office of detectives. With every step the feeling of something strangely familiar of this place was consuming her more and more and that hope of good things to come made her hand glow blue. A single raise of an eyebrow of one the officers was enough to snuff it.

“Y/N! Oh, you decided to grace us with your presence.” Her boss was talking to some man, whose back was turned to her so she did not see his face. “good timing. I would like to present to you our top investigator. Meet detective Richard Grayson.”

“Wha.. what?” she stuttered a little bit, pure shock reflecting in her eyes as the man turned around his expression being a mirror reflection of hers. “Dick?”

“Y/N?” he hadn’t seen her for two freaking years. Hell, he did not contact her in any way, despite a bit of stalking to make sure she was doing fine. And after all this time his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the girl he was still in love with. Time did nothing. And she was going to work with him, again.

“Hi.” She tilted her head and smiled lightly as the first surprise passed

“You know each other?” the captain caught up on the scene happening in front of his eyes

“From the previous life.” Dick said without looking away from her. It was real, she was real and here. He got her back.

“Should I be worried then? Will your past cause any problems in professional relationship?”

“No, sir. Not at all.”

Dick Grayson was always a good liar.

***

 “Hey.”

She wasn’t even doing anything, just sitting at the desk, covered with document and samples collected from the crime scene. Her eyes were a bit puffy and red,  clear sign she did not sleep much in the last days, her thick h/c hair a perfect mess. Lack of makeup and lab’s soft light mixed with her blue aura made her look young, fragile and innocent. All those adjectives far from truth given her secret identity.

“Hey Dick.” She smiled softly, yawning and stretching “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“You are?” that was surprising. Maybe she did change during the last time he saw her. There was something more gentle in her action.

“Mhm.” She rubbed her eyes in child-like manner “I need to stand from behind this desk like now. I’m way too sore. I’m going to grab some coffee. Would you mind staying here and watching the documents? Can’t risk anyone getting the confidential information about the investigation. And since it’s yours….”

“Sure.” His heart dropped a little but he did not let it show.

“Thank you.” She hopped down from the chair and suddenly lost her balance. Dick’s instincts kicked in and he was quick to catch and hold her before she fell to the ground. For the first time since the Titans she was so close to him, yet not close enough. He wanted to embrace her fully, stroke her hair, feel her heartbeat next to his, feel her. Sad thing he couldn’t.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked instead, unwillingly letting go.

“Not sure. I took a nap yesterday, but…”

“Y/N.”

“What?” she scoffed “to much to do. You know…. the other job…. And it’s not like you are not running around the streets dressed in red and green.”

“You….?”

“Yeah, of course I know. I observe. And did you really think I bought that story about your injuries being the effect of the latest work action? Please, I know you better than that.”

“And I know you. How’s your light doing? Hope still up?”

“Never dying. But I’m not going to lie. Given the condition of the world last two years was a rough ride. I was even summoned by the Blues.”

“You were in space, huh? Why?”

“They thought I was getting weak. Wondered if I deserve the power of the lantern. But you know, the ring know what it does. I was just cut from using it for a bit. Last week of my suspension and then I’m back at my full capabilities.”

“I’m sorry about it.” He took a step closer and grabbed her hand. She didn’t even flinch when he started caressing her palm. It was nice and comforting and moving something inside her.

“It’s fine. We learn from mistakes, right? At least some of us” she shoved him playfully killing the atmosphere in effect.

“Sit down, Y/N. I’ll fetch you coffee and then we’ll talk about my case.”

“Ok, thanks. I want…..”

“Black, no sugar. I remember.”

***

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this” Dick and Y/N were standing at the crime scene. Or rather a battlefield scene. Blood and dead bodies were everywhere reminding of horror movies, especially those where the chainsaw was used.

“I’m not an amateur, Dick and this is not my first rodeo so stop it. I’ve seen worse. In both lifes.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“It’s ok. That little protectiveness of ours is touching. And gives me a reason to mock you freely.”

“Don’t you dare” he hissed grabbing her by the waist “I can always go full Robin on you” he whispered his face centimeters from her, unwillingly leaning in, forgetting where he was, who he was and what he was doing.

“Well than, I’ll go full blue lantern on you” she smirked and wriggled from his arms “but now, I have work to do. Genetic material, my favorite kind”.

As Y/N came closer to the one of the bodies Dick was completely consumed by his own thoughts. He loved her even more now and it was getting impossible to hide it.

Two years ago

Two years of working together did not bring him any closer to confessing his feelings. Even when after night patrol he showed at her apartment to get patched up and stayed the night watching her sleep on the other side of the same bed, unable to even close an eye. Her obliviousness was no help, since she was always calling him a friend, a coworker, a team member, even a mate. It was killing him. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” she muttered shifting her position  a bit. She knew he was awake and there was no point denying “how are your injuries?” she reached towards his arm covered with fresh cuts almost touching it, but stopping a few millimeters away from the skin. Luckily for him, since he knew her single touch would make him burn. He wanted to kiss her, to do more – to make her feel good, to make her his and only his…….. Dirty thought and images was now creeping in his mind “Dick?” she frowned “you are distracted, officer”. That last word and her body so close made him jump out of the bed immediately, terrified his self-control was failing him.

“I’m fine. I’m gonna get some water. Go back to sleep, you need to rest.”

“But…”

“No buts. Sleep. I’m taking the couch.”

He did not get any rest that night. Crazy dreams that could never happen were enough to keep him up.

***

She got hurt. Because of him. Because of his recklessness and distraction. He shouldn’t have left her alone. Y/N was just doing her job, securing the evidences. Every other detective was in the other room of the house when shooters came through the door, firing their guns in every possible direction. Before anyone could react three policemen where bleeding, and one was dead.

“Shit! Y/N!” Dick hissed and rushed to the place where she was hoping nothing happened. He managed to disarm three of the attackers on the way, but judging from the sound she was dealing with the fourth, doing pretty good job. Even if blue lanterns were never considered the fighters, she was an exception, years in Titans and Hal’s upraise giving her exceptional skills in hand-to-hand fight, blue constructs adding to that. She was spinning, ducking and sliding, creating blue daggers and blades, going for the win when she saw him. A second of hesitation was enough for the opponent and she ended up with a knife in her stomach and  blood flowing everywhere. The last thing she felt was a pair of strong arms embracing her and lifting her up, holding close to wide chest whispering the most cliché words – it’s gonna be ok.

And now she was on the ICU, looking small and pale in hospital bed with Dick sitting on the uncomfortable chair holding her cold hands.

“Detective Grayson?” doctor’s voice made him stand up immediately “she’s going to be fine. No serious damage was done, luckily the blade missed the organs by an inch. And this girl, she’s strong, a fighter.”

“You have no idea, doctor. Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.” The MD shrugged but smiled happily “you got couple minutes left, and then she’ll need rest.”

“Ok.” When the doctor disappeared he leaned over girl’s sleeping figure and lovingly kissed her forehead “I’ll take care of you.”

***

Year ago.

 “I need your help.”

“My help of Blue’s help?” she asked “wait, don’t answer. I know what it will be.”

“Of course you do.” she could tell he rolled her eyes on the other side of the phone line.

“So? what’s the case? Go on. I got work.”

“There’s this girl. Her name is Rachel…..”

“Wait, are you talking about the teenager that run away from the house? The one, whose mother was shot straight in the head?” Y/N voice came up an octave.

“Yes. Wait, how do you…..?”

“So it happens I’m at the crime scene, detective.”

“Right.” Of course, he should have known she would be called there right away. And he did not like the fact that he wasn’t there with her to keep her safe. He didn’t trust anyone else with that.

“Relax, Dick. Everyone’s safe and I know how to protect myself. I can’t understand why do I have to assure you of it every time you are not around. I thought you knew my killer skills.”

“I know, but remember what happened last time?”

“It was a year ago, you fool! And it was your fault.” He went quiet for a bit too long “Dick? Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty.”

“I know.”

“But you’re sulking. We’ve been through this. All is forgiven and forgotten. Now, what about this Rachel girl?”

“She’s like you. She has powers. And she’s terrified.”

“she just lost her mother, no surprise with that.”

“Not only about that. There’s something dark about her. Can you come?”

“Give me an hour.”

***

“Hey, you must be Rachel? I’m  a friend of Dick.”

“Where is he?” the girl truly was terrified

“Dealing with paperwork. He asked me to watch over you.”

“I don’t think it’s safe to be around me.”

“I can handle myself. Now, since I work on the case of …. Nevermind. Can you tell me what happened?” Y/N held Rachel’s hand trying to reach for the hope inside the girl.

“I…. I……”

“I won’t push you. But I know Dick promised to help you and I’m going to make sure he keeps that promise, all right?”

“Ok. I need help…..”

***

Today

“What exactly is the case of Dick and Y/N?”  Gar could not hold back the question

“Are you asking me?” Donna raised an eyebrow at the green haired boy.

“Well you are the only one here who knows about their past.”

“Yeah, everyone can tell he’s in love with her.” Rachel added “so why does she keep pushing his limits?”

“Well it’s not my story to tell” Donna scoffed “if you want to know anything you may as well go the subject of this discussion and …..”

“So you are now talking shit about me behind my back?” Y/N leaned on the doorframe and crossed he arms “come on, I;m a big girl I can handle anything. Donna?”

“Nope. I’m out. You can talk to the kids, they seem very interested about your past.”

“Really? Why? Rachel? Gar?”

“Y/N, I love you, but I need to speak with Dick. Gar can explain. Right, Gar?” she eyed him suggestively.

“What?” he frowned but soon the realization dawned on him “oh, yeah, right, sure. I’ll explain.” Rachel and Donna nodded and left leaving Y/N with the boy.

“So, what’s up shifter?”

“Why don’t you love Dick back?” Gar blurted before realizing his words

“What?” she was taken aback “what are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” He tried to escape but she was quick to pin him back to the chair

“Oh, no, no, no, no. You are not running away from me. Talk. Now.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” Gar raised both his hands in surrender “but how can you be so oblivious? Everyone knows he loves you and you miss all the signs!”

“that’s absurd! He’s just a friend. Which is a progress, since we were more like enemies at the beginning. And who’s everyone? And since when you are so gossiping?”

“Donna. Rachel. Kori. Me. Everyone! From what I can tell even Hank and Dawn get the message. And I’m not gossiping.” He sighed “Look Y/N, you are my best friend, you know it, right?” the girl nodded “and that’s why I care about your happiness.”

“But….”

“No, no buts. You are making two people unhappy. Three if you count me. Do you love him?”

“Gar…..”

“Do you?” he studied her face carefully, his tone now gentle. They only knew each other for a while but he already knew talking about and expressing emotions was not her stronger suit.

“I do….” She whispered looking down.

“Well I can assure you he loves you to. Why do you think Rachel went to talk to him?”

“You two are unbelievable.”

“And that’s why you love us” he grinned “now go talk to him.”

***

“Dick? Can we…. Can we talk?”

“I’m actually a bit busy.” He was tensed so his conversation with Rachel must have been emotional

“Come on, Dickie, I bet you have five minutes for me.” She came closer and put an hand on his arm from behind gently stroking his shoulder. Out of instinct he leaned more into her touch wanting more. “So, Gar talked to me.”

“About what?” he turned around making her hand drop and immediately missing the contact.

“You. And well.. um.. me being blind.”

“How so?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“You know what!”

“Well maybe I’m tired of guessing!”

“Putting the pieces of information together is your job! So quit playing!”

Instead of soft conversation they were now yelling at each other. Not how it supposed to go.

“I hate you! All those years I held it back but I hate you!”

“Really?” She mocked “what do you hate about me the most?” she started circling him like a predator

“don’t do this.” He warned, his eyes glistening

“my blue light?” she took a step letting some of the aura out “or maybe my hands?” she brushed her fingertips on his arm causing him to close his eyes

“You’re walking down a dangerous path….”

“Sure, what’s new. Oh,I know” she faked surprise “I know what you hate about me the most.” She leaned close to him “I bet it’s my lips, right?”

He didn’t answer as he could not hold back anymore and closed the distance between them crashing his lips on hers. She was right. He hated those soft pink, plump and kissable lips he was dreaming about for so long. He hated her aura, full of hope. He hated her hands that patched him up so many times and that brought him comfort and sense of safety everytime she touched him. He hated what she was doing to him, how she was messing with his head, how vulnerable she was making him, he hated…..

“I love you” he whispered pulling away, letting his arms sneak around her waist, holding her tight, not wanting to let go. “I loved you since the day you showed at the tower. I wanted you for so long.”

“Why did you hold it back? I really thought we were just friends. You were withdrawing every time I tried to…."

“Stop talking.” He pressed their lips together again, drunk on the feeling of her, craving her, tightening the embrace trying to get her closer than it was physically possible.

“Ouch, not that I’m complaining, but Dick that hurts. You’re strong, remember?” she whined as he started to crush her.

“Sorry. But I love you so fucking much. Feels good to say it.”

“Why don’t you let me try then?” she smirked locking hands on his neck and looking him straight into the eyes “Richard Grayson, I love you too. But you are an idiot! Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!”

“I was scared you would run away. You always displaced the emotions, so….”

“Dick, you dumbass. I am a lantern, I thrive on emotions, I just can’t let it consume me. Don’t want to turn into the red lantern, or worse – a black one. Do you know the latter drive on death?”

“Is that possible? For you to change color?"

“Don’t know, but I can’t risk it.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to provide you with hope if that’s what you need. Hope for us, for starters.”

“Ok, Mr. Grayson, so why don’t you kiss me again?”

“Gladly.” He would never get tired of holding, touching and having her. He was dead set on making up for the lost seven years.  

@somest1 @pinksirensong

[balkanradfem]

So I decided to learn to knit! I've never before found a way to ethically and cheaply get yarn. I found a little ball of yarn outside at some point, as one does, and saved it, but beyond that I didn't have any other tools. Then I saw a video showing how you can take a thrifted machine-knit sweater, and undo it back into yarn, and then just knit with that. Incredible, since I have a full box of old sweaters, I just need to figure out which ones are easily undone.

So I grabbed my little ball of found yarn, and then I needed some needles. I looked up what I could use instead, and found there's plenty of alternatives; pencils, chopsticks, wooden sticks for barbecue. Looking around my room I realized I had some very long paintbrushes; I tried to use them, and immediately realized they need to have a pointy end. I grabbed a pencil sharpener and sharpened them; only this made them very rough and splintered. I needed to sand them down, but I had no sandpaper, and then I remembered that recently someone gave me a flat tool that removes dry skin from feet. I sanded them down with that, and it actually worked, they worked perfectly like knitting needles. They're even the same size.

The knitters probably already know this, but if you start knitting for the first time, especially if it's winter and you're under a blanket, some ancient human instinct will activate and you will feel that you are doing exactly what you're supposed to be doing and everything is well and right with the world. Creating fabric is a powerful thing to do, in a society where everyone needs fabric to stay alive, and go outside, and I like having this power to myself.

I found out there are two basic types of stitches; knit stitch, and purl stitch. I liked the knit stitch better, on the basis that purl stitch had 'bad vibes'.

It knew before that most fabric will be woven, or knitted, or in some cases, crochet, so I got little curious, and studied each layer of clothing on me, and every single item of clothing was knit, and it was all a purl stitch. I got fascinated by this, wondering if this is true for most clothing, or if I just somehow prefer knit things on me because they're nice and stretchy. Looking into other fabrics, I could easily tell that all of the sheets, pillowcases and kitchen cloths were woven, and that they were much sturdier and less stretchy for it.

I looked at stuff in my closet, and found that I had a scarf, hat, and pants that were woven, but in very soft and warm fabric, and they were very sturdy and non-stretchy as well. I then wondered what was the logic behind it, and is there a traditional type of things that will be woven, that isn't just bedsheets and cloths?

I tried to find a video on youtube detailing that stuff, but no female-made video was found, so I'm now downloading several women-written audibooks on the topic of history of textiles. I think we should just take the power to make textiles back to us, because back when women were the maker of the cloth, it was just something we 'did out of the goodness of our hearts for our families' but it was also environmentally friendly, practical, sustainable and a beautiful, powerful craft. Now that m*n decided it's something to make money off, they created fast fashion, tons of waste and environmental damage, new types of slavery for workers, and the clothing isn't even practical anymore, it's made to fall apart.

So, back to my knitting, I have to say it's not happening very fast, I thought by the end of the day I would be done with that little ball of yarn and be able to tell how much fabric it can make, nope, did not happen, in fact I've been working on it two days and by this time I've barely made any progress. Apparently the 'purl stitch' is faster, well, I'm still refusing to do it. Boo purl stitch. The yarn I found outside is some of the worst quality yarn I've ever seen, not only it's different in thickness everywhere, but in some places there are 3-4 different threads distangled from each other, and it confused me so much while knitting that I kept adding stitches on the brush unnecessarily, until the entire thing could barely fit on one.

One thing that surprised me was how incredibly soft, stretchy and comfortable the fabric feels when made. I genuinely expected the fabric to be as horrifying as the yarn quality, nope, it's nice and comfy I absolutely love it.

There is a movement in online spaces for being mindful of environment when purchasing clothing, and making our own wardrobes, which is absolutely delightful; seeing people gain new respect and fascination for clothing, sewing and textile making, and then doing it themselves and becoming non-dependent on capitalism, it's the change the world needs. I didn't think I would try to join in, because I get so much discarded and unwanted clothing from others, I wouldn't need to buy any ever, but I did get fascinated by looms, natural fibers, and women doing all that work, that I can't resist trying it out.

[evilpenguinrika]

Okay so I had another thought about Descendants Rise of Red

Under read more cuz it's gotten a tad long. Also spoilers.

Throughout the movie, I legit thought that Uliyana was a red herring with the whole horrible prank on Bridget that made her turn from a sweet girl into a tyrannical leader because of what Ella said about it when QoH was staging the coup.

Like I DON"T KNOW to me it felt like they were setting up Ella as the person who actually did the prank (maybe against her will or was just part of a group that decided to do it and she just stayed quiet and went along with it despite not vibing with the prank at all).

And then we got introduced to Uliyana and her group and like they very clearly obviously had her set up as the one responsible (even though I was still under the impression that she was still a red herring and it was actually Ella)

But no

It... It was Uliyana

I felt like the writers had such a perfect opportunity to dive just a little deeper into the complexities of high school drama and high school cliques and teenagers. Because yeah, teenagers can be so incredibly cruel and so incredibly mean. And like, I kinda also assumed it was like your typical dumb love triangle bs with Bridget Ella and Charming as well and maybe that's why Ella did the prank idk. Like the two girls are interested in him but it's also a little more apparent that Charming is interested in Bridget and maybe Ella got jealous. And with how horrible her home life is, she just wanted something for herself for once and had a horrible lapse in judgment in playing a mean prank on Bridget.

And like if you think about it, how horrifying is it to discover your one and only friend stabbed you in the back and humiliated you for selfish reasonings (or maybe other reasonings) and that's how she became the QoH, which could tie back into that song about how love ain't it or whatever it was called, like it would further emphasize just why QoH is the way that she is and why she finds the notion of love and trusting humans/humanity so asinine because she had something horrible happen to her, a trust and betrayal, that has since hardened her heart.

Idk if this made any sense I'm just word vomiting at this point

like IDK THEY HAD A PERFECT SET UP. ULIYANA WAS LIKE A CLEAR RED HERRING (kinda like first movie with snatching of the wand and ppl thought it was Mal but nope it was Jane. See? Red herring. Kinda. Probably.) like it was an obvious choice but then the reveal that it wasn't Uliyana would have been juicy

Oh, I also wished they had more of a clear consequence of time travelling at the end. Like I was holding my breath the entire time anticipating some sort of time-travel consequence

But

There was none

Which makes no sense because when you time travel and change the timeline, there's gonna be consequences. It's sort of an important story beat to have (one example I can think of right now is the first Life is Strange game with Max's time travelling powers and how the more she uses her powers, the more fuckery shit happens where you either watch your best friend die to save an entire town or sacrifice an entire town to save your best friend). I wish they gave us something, because then it would definitely help set us up for the next movie since apparently people are saying Rise of Red is supposed to be a two parter? Or maybe not have it so blatantly obvious but still have something there to let us know "oh, something ain't right" (like I get QoH having that drastic change is already like its own thing, but idk give us more. I want more.)

ANYWAYS again, idk, just word vomiting don't mind me

[randomnameless]

The quintessential problem with Claude and the deer is that they should not have been involved in the war at all, or at least not Claude. What does he have to gain participating on it? Nothing, and he makes it even more explicit in azure moon when he dissolves the alliance. He could've pretty easely given the power to Lorenz or Hilda and nope out of there (what he does in silver snow), as it is clear througouht white clouds that he doesn't have as much of an attachtment to Fodlan as he does Almyra. And it isn't like the devs couldn't take the deer studients out during post-TS, when Marianne unless recruited is pressumed dead, and Lorenz unless recruited joins the imperial forces and dies helping the empire.

Outside of the problems with racism and the bigoted tropes related to "savage cultures" the Fodlan games perpetuate, the devs did not know how to use one of their house leaders for the main plot of "church vs empire", and idk if that's because they bit more than they could chew, or if it was intentional taking into account who gets the short end of the stick in both games happens to be mixed and from one of those "savage cultures".

TBH...

It's on the devs for having wanted to add a third lord to their game, but failing to, well, link him to any of those plots.

Supreme Leader's war of unification?

Well, Nopes gave him a part this plot - and yet there's no third choice in this plot : you bend the knee or you die. Nopes' wise, Clout decided (in his route) to bend the knee with his "alliance" that is totally supposed to make Supreme Leader reconsider her desire to roll over Leicester and make it part of Adrestia again!

(Granted, Nopes don't tell us how his plea to stop the war after killing the evil lizard lady will play out and leaves an open ending...)

In Houses, well, he doesn't want Leicester to be flattened, and goes on the offensive (counter offensive?) when Billy pops up with basically what is the plot events of Silver Snow (down to using the same strategy with disguises) with the Gronder Map.

And that addition radically changes... well, everything regarding Claude's relevance : he cannot form an alliance with the Blue Lord or the Kingdom to get rid of the Empire because "plot convenient myopia" and apparently Dimitri BaD enough that he attacks Alliance troops for no reason.

Forget SS, GW (and AM, in a way) is just using plot contrived excuse to... not have an united from to face the Empire. Why? IDK. Each Lord must be the hero of his story, or the unification boner means only one of them can "win" an unified Fodlan i'd guess.

Nabateans and the plot ?

No one gives a fig about that "plot", so it's basically pursuing a side-quest for no payoff.

Now, as @fantasyinvader wrote, Claude's story and journey as one who is ignorant and gets to learn and clear his misconceptions + the background of the land we're living in could have been interesting, doubly so given how Billy is voiceless and cannot play the "protag discovers the world at the same time as the player does" role.

But it has... no payoff.

Much like Rhea's infodump about the World, Relics and Nabateans... Claude reacts to the mention that Billy has a rock for heart, and not about his crest, his shiny bow or the fact that Rhea also had a vested interest in, uh, getting rid of prejudice against people who are perceived as "different" because her family was genocided for that.

Hell, the entire "prejudice" angle from Supreme Leader's war is swept under the rug, so we can have the Deers say nonsense like wanting to rekt Thales for Supreme Leader's sake, while only Flayn and Seteth can hear her "nabateans shouldn't have power over the people"...

There's no parallel drawn in the game about Claude and Rhea's situation - since she's at the center of this subplot - about being perceived as "outsiders" and not being able to do various things from existing to "rule over the people" because of what they are, or even faking their identities and building metaphorical walls between them and the people they're living with because they are afraid of rejection.

Nah, we can't have that, Rhea must be irrelevant to the possible, while also being the biggest scapegoat/dragon of this saga at the same time as a nebulous red herring to sell pots of tea.

Ihthe "fight against prejudice and make people accept each other" angle was that relevant to his route, Claude would have most likely talked or interacted with Dimitri and learnt of his plan to cleanse Duscur's name in his Father's assassination, raised a brow at Petra being a hostage and done something else than give a surprised pikachu face at Rhea's infodumps.

He could have reacted at her reveal that if you might want to live in peace with some people, if those people don't want that and label you as nothing more than fodder or things to be looted, it's not going to work.

And of course, gave a reaction at your second in command (unofficially?)'s reveal that, uh, her house keeps identured Almyran children as war prisoners?

Some people already made some AUs or "what ifs" routes for a proper Claude route and not the nonsense that we got in FE16 where it's basically "I react to the same plot events that happen in the other routes but top it all with a zombie".

The Deers could have been "better introduced" in a plot about getting rid of prejudice, or learning the causes of this prejudice : Marianne was/is hunted because of her blood ties to Maurice - not because what she did, but because what Momo did back then! - Lysithea was treated as a guinea pig and her house rolled over by Adrestia who has a less than rosy views about the "offshoots" that are called Leicester and Faerghus, Lorenz could explain that prejudice, just like piety, are tools used by people whenever they're relevant, like, some people being pissed at foreigners and some who aren't because they make money through international trading like Margrave Edmund does, Hilda justifying her House's animosity towards Almyrans because they lost many people in those pointless skirmishes (maybe a closed ones? Her mom or Uncle or whatever?) which would make Claude realise that "ending prejudice" is a much more difficult quest than, idk, just killing one or two randoms.

The commoner trio might share Claude's views about prejudice and welcoming foreigners, but have more "mundane" worries like being able to have a roof and food to eat, which might be the case of some people in Leicester, or tell us more about Leicester and how it works (give us more insight about the different countries if Fodlan ffs).

Maybe we could have add a Claude who learns and discovers Fodlan, and along the way, starts to love the land as much, if not more, than Almyra and really wanting to protect this land from whatever Supreme Leader's cooking, or becoming an Almyra v.2.

I don't think making Claude the third wheel of the plot was maliciously intentional because of the, uh, implications with RL cultures and Almyra, but more like they didn't know where to put him.

I noticed you wrote the conflict as one that is "the church vs the empire", but I do not really agree - if that was the case, the war would have stopped in VW/AM/SS the second Rhea was caught.

The main conflict is Supreme Leader's war of conquest - with the twist that the devs were really banking on their brilliant idea of making the red emperor the titular waifu of the game that each person/lord/whatever Rhea is must find a way to excuse and/or justify her actions.

With this in mind, AM is basically Dimitri's fall (and rise!) because of his ties to Supreme Leader.

In VW? The game cannot explore too much outside of the Supreme Leader scope so we're left with.. well, what VW was.

Claude cannot go on a journey to discover Fodlan and get rid of his misconceptions... because part of those same misconceptions are used by Supreme Leader to start her war, or the sheer concept of a conquest, aka a nation being rolled over by another is anathema to his, supposed, ideal of wanting people to accept each other despite their differences.

I ranted about it since day 5, but the Nabatean subplot (and Fodlan in general) is accessory to Supreme Leader war, there is no point aka no payoff for learning all of that, because you cannot challenge the one who wants to unify the continent.

As such, Claude cannot deviate too far from this plot - while receiving infodumps about "the lore" - and we end up with third wheel of a bike and characters who, at first and second glance, appear to be irrelevant.

Fodlan ends up unified despite starting as three separate countries, we feel bad for Supreme Leader and mourn her unknown ideals, Rhea is gone and the Agarthans aren't a problem anymore.

the second the devs said leicester was a republic, claude was doomed. Merchant republics are always irrelevent or straight up useless in the FE series!

[beels-burger-babe]

Late Night Talks

*I was going through my drafts and found this. Apparently I wrote it at 3 a.m. because my brain wouldn't be quiet. I decided to finish it off, since the original draft ended in a key smash mid sentence when I passed out 😅 Enjoy while I work away on a new fic for ya'll! This is mostly just crack. -B.*

"Belphie?"

"Hmm?"

The two of you laid on your backs, staring up at the attic ceiling. It had been a while since either of you came up, but now ...

"Use your powers on me. Knock me out."

Belphie snorted and raised an eyebrow at you. "I don't need magic to knock a crumby human like yourself out. Besides, it takes effort."

You huffed, wiggling on the stiff matress. "But your bed freaking sucks and I can't sleep."

An offended gasp instantly came from the space beside you. "Don't insult Anthony,"

"You name your bed? What-"

"Anthony is a marvelous bed. I, of all beings, would know."

You clicked your tongue. "Nope. If anything you're the worst person to ask about bed comfort. You can sleep on a cement block! How can I expect you to choose a mattress?"

He hummed, and with the telling sound of shuffling blankets, shifted onto his side to face you. "Just because I can sleep anywhere I want, doesn't mean that I don't know how to value comfort. Here. Try this." That was the only warning you got before his cow-print pillow was thrown into your face. You groaned and arranged it under your head before pausing. It was, undoubtedly, the softest pillow you had ever slept on.

Belphie smirked from beside you. " Amazing right? It's made from celestial swan down clusters and feathers. I had it smuggled in shortly after the fall."

You hummed, barely acknowledging the demon as you closed your eyes. "It's like being on a cloud."

"Hence," Belphie said smugly, "why I can sleep anywhere. Not because I can sleep on cement," you yelped as he suddenly ripped the pillow out from beneath you and claimed it as his own once more. "Now shut up and go to sleep."

"Belphie!" You whined. "That's no fair! You can't just show me the heavenly existence of your pillow and then strip me from it! Please! Let me use it for just one night!"

"Nope. It's my pillow. I'm using it."

You groaned loudly as you flopped back onto your own flat, worn pillow. "So mean," you muttered in the dark.

The room would've been silent after that, if it wasn't for you tossing and turning, attempting to find someway to make this lumpy bed and ancient pillow comfortable. The blankets rustled and the bed creaked with every movement you made.

Belphegor finally broke, "Fuck. Just come here," he tsked before reaching out and grabbing your waist. Before you could even shout in complaint, you were tugged tightly against his chest, head planted on his beautiful, beautiful pillow right next to his. "Now," he whispered against your ear. "Go. To. Bed. And stop fucking around."

You didn't have to be told twice! The warmth of his arms and the comfort that the pillow provided was more than enough to lure your mind into the depths of unconsciousness.

Belphegor watched as your breathing evened out and you finally fell asleep. He rolled his eyes, nuzzling ever-so-slightly closer to you, and purposefully ignored the heat dusting across his cheeks and nose as he drifted into sleep.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Do you think since killer has alot of mental illness he would use substances to cope? Or would Nightmare not allow it to happen since it's a way for him to cope?

To be honest, I’m of the belief that Stage 2 wouldn’t even use any substance just to cope: what would he have to cope with? Everything’s fine, he’s absolutely fine, hed tell you.

Instead he’s more likely to use substances in Stage 2 because he’s curious, at least at first. He wants to know his limits. And if any substances make him feel anything at all, I think he’d become addicted to that high instead.

But also. I think he’d realize pretty quickly that getting attached or addicted to anything just gives nightmare more control over him, more ways to torment him by withholding any substances the body becomes dependent on.

Given that Murder canonically drinks, I absolutely wouldn’t be surprised if Nightmare uses that against him—probably forces him to get sober and only allows access as some type of “reward”—and killer would notice and decide to go ‘nope.’

Killers whole thing is needing to remain attentive and vigilant, aware of whats going on. It’s already completely difficult when he struggles to tell what’s real and what isn’t, when he frequently forgets things hes supposed to do and struggles to pay attention already.

I’m sure he’s gotten in trouble with nightmare a lot for the things hes forgotten to do or things he’s forgotten about nightmare’s wants and routines and preferences.

Killer knows nightmare so well not only due to observation, but because he has to.

If Killer engages in substances while in Stage 2, under Nightmare’s control, it likely means he’s decided he doesn’t care about trying to remain useful/functional, maybe he even views this as a way to reclaim his control. Stage 2–and even Stage 1–could even be drawn to substances if it drowns out his internal voices—the voices of his stages.

Basically allowing the risk of getting addicted to something that gives Nightmare further power over him in favor of chasing a high and something new and the possibility of feeling something, or in an attempt to regain control by deciding what happens to his body. Just shrugging his shoulders and allowing nightmare to replace him again.

Hed probably eventually get bored of drugs as he gains more tolerance and resistance to it, and probably just keeps going for the hell of it. Maybe he even forces himself to go throw withdraws because that means he gets to feel something again and kills his constant boredom.

I think the idea of Killer struggling with substances in Stage 2 is actually more likely to become a concern when he’s with Color. Because nothing is like it used to be, he can’t react or do the things that make sense to him because it’s illegal and apparently he’s supposed to care about that.

At least substances allow him to feel something and gives him an excuse to do things like..start a bar fight. And with Color he may even use substances to not only feel some control in this new unfamiliar environment, but when exposed to so much new, perhaps he instead uses substances to numb out and further detach himself from his environment and his emotions. Clinging desperately to his apathy and belief in emotionlessness.

Meanwhile, he’d probably only start substances to cope while in Stage 1. Likely because he already started and got addicted in Stage 2, and now he’s suffering the consequences while in a different stage. Hed probably try to go through the withdraw, try to get off the substances, but the pain is too much and eventually caves.

And that’s probably where he realizes that, while in Stage 1, substances seem to kill or lessen the constant, overwhelming pain and fear and guilt and grief and shame without having to rely on Stage 2–which always come with risks of hurting someone. It’s easier to ignore Chara, to not care about Nightmare. To let himself live and he’s almost confident even.

Until he probably has a bad trip or substances make his derealization even worse, and then just becomes trapped in a cycle of being in pain with substances and being in pain without them.

So while Stage 1 would probably only do substances because he was already addicted to it due to a choice made in Stage 2–who was bored and wanting to do something new, perhaps wanting to feel something, regain control somehow—Stage 1 leans into it to cope explicitly.

They both probably use it to drown out those internal voices, and both have capacity to use it to further detach from emotions and the world. For Stage 1, its to lessen the overwhelm into something manageable, while for 2 it’s simply to avoid feeling at all.

I also feel like Stage 1 is more like..a weepy, crying drunk. And Stage 2 is the guy who manipulates an entire bar into escalating into an all out brawl because the peace was too unfamiliar—or boring, as he’d say.