#he can distinguish them by appearance and by call

[umbra-mayhem]

141 and their fav birds

I'm a bird photographer, so here's some thoughts (lol I know nobody else thinks about birds like this but whatever, just let me have my fun)

Price - Eurasian Goshawk! Feels a kinship over their shared fiercely protective temperaments. These birds have the strength and power Price wants to emulate as a captain.

Gaz - Hooded Crow! He rescued and raised a baby hooded crow when he was a kid. He appreciates their intelligence and easily makes friends with any he comes across.

Ghost - Barn Owls! He likes the dichotomy of their near-silent flying and scream-like calls. Also Turkey Vultures, for their visual and dietary aesthetic of course.

Soap - Eurasian Oystercatcher! They remind him of home (I headcanon that he grew up on the coast). And their color palette is a bit reminiscent of a certain Lieutenant's...

Roach - Pheonix! Technically not a real bird, but I think Roach likes the idea of rebirth through fire. But I also think he might be scared of birds lol.

Pics of the birds below!

Eurasian Goshawk:

Hooded Crow:

Barn Owl:

Turkey Vulture:

Eurasian Oystercatcher:

Pheonix:

[chuluoyi]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄

- sylus x reader

more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)

note: loosely a sequel to strictly (un)professional. how this snowballed into 3.8k... i don't really know :')

“Missus, please spare us!”

You shot an unamused look at the twins before you, who clasped their hands together, pleading for you to let them go.

“Why is it so difficult for both of you to say?” you hissed, crossing your arms together. “I’m not asking for much—just a recount of what happened!”

“Boss will have our tongues for this!” Kieran looked up at you, quivering. “No way, I want to live!”

“He’s terrifying…” Luke shuddered in fear, hugging himself. “You don’t know how frightening he is!”

You were holding both Luke and Kieran hostage, the tender preys, all because Sylus refused to reveal what you had been wanting to know these past few weeks.

“So you’re afraid of Sylus…” You fixed them with a steely glare. “But have you ever thought that if you don’t spill it now, I will be the one taking both your tongues?”

“—?! Missus, please!”

“Why are you bullying the twins?” A deep voice cut through the twins’ pitiful laments, and you let out an exasperated huff as your chance slipped away once more.

Speak of the devil, and Sylus shall appear. He looked at the scene before him as if you were all a bunch of kindergarteners.

Luke and Kieran immediately flocked to him. “Boss! Save us! She’s scary!”

And now you were suddenly the scary one. You rolled your eyes. "Your henchmen are useless."

Sylus glanced at you with a half smile, knowing what information you were squeezing the twins for. "Sweetie, just give it up. You'll find peace faster that way."

Was it wrong to be curious about what Sylus had been up to during the three weeks you were unconscious after the attack that literally took your life? Why was he being so secretive about it anyway?

“I know, you were so worried sick you didn’t even eat or sleep,” you taunted your lover with a wicked smile. “That’s why you won’t tell me about it.”

Sylus laughed outright. “Pftt. You’ve got quite the imagination. Good to know.”

Nothing much changed after that night of his confession—if you could call it that—to you. You were indeed no longer strictly his bedwarmer, but your banters stayed the same, if not even more sarcastic now.

“Chop chop, we have an auction to go to, sweetie.” Sylus placed his big hand on your head, amused. “Stop being a hissy kitten towards the poor twins and get ready, hmm?”

“I’ll definitely uncover it,” you shot him a resentful glare. “Just you wait and see.”

Such were your days with your true kindred-spirits lover. He would tease you during the day and turn you into a hot mess at night, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

In tonight's auction, you had one target: the broker for a new rising star firearms dealer. Sylus had been eyeing him, deducing his goods could be a nice addition to his armory.

And so, you went up to him. However...

“...Are you single, miss?”

Here we go again.

You forced a tight smile. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if we can stick to subject at hand.”

The man blinked, then quickly plastered on a wide grin to mask his surprise. “Oh yes! Yes, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted— well, I’d say this is a pretty solid MoU... but I’ll need to contact my boss first.”

This weirdo... you thought with boredom, is so transparent.

This wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with a situation like this. Granted, you were pretty and you knew it, but usually, more distinguished men would be a bit more subtle about it.

“Take all the time you need,” you encouraged smoothly, your eyes crinkling in an attempt to look friendly. “As you can see, Mr. Sylus has proposed the perfect bargain for this kind of dealings.”

“I wouldn’t argue with that. I assure you we’ll certainly try to accommodate his request.” The man nodded and gave you a meaningful look, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, what was your name again, miss?”

Your faux smile remained perfectly still as you replied, “Mephisto.”

The man’s eyes roved over you, and he grinned roguishly. “Right. Still, I never expected Mr. Sylus’ secretary to be as beautiful as you, Miss Mephisto...”

This was tedious. Your patience was tested with every leering look he gave you. Sylus must know this already, and he's somewhere laughing at the sight of you dealing with this creep.

“You flatter me too much, I’m average.”

“No, no! I mean it!”

He knows... yet he wouldn't do anything about it. Not that you would expect Sylus to barge in like a man blinded by envy, but still, he was insufferable for not coming to you just like he had for Miss Hunter back then.

The man kept droning on and on about himself and everything else that had nothing to do with the business deal, and you were this close to dropping him and using your Evol to shut him up when—

He then turned to you expectantly. “Oh, there is a dance! Miss, would you mind if I have your first dance?”

“Oh...”

And it occurred to you... why not spice things up a little?

Sylus’ dark crimson eyes narrowed silently as he watched both of you from the island table while savoring his glass of wine, before he let out a loud snort.

That vermin doesn’t have a clue he is playing with fire.

For most of your interaction, the firearms dealer’s broker kept giving you suggestive looks, and occasionally brushing his hand against yours on purpose. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and it was amusing to see how aggravated you looked the entire time.

Adorable. Sylus found you incredibly endearing these days, from your pouts to your glazed eyes whenever he thrusted into you—

You were oh so delectable… at least until he saw you holding that lesser man's arm, as he led you to the dance floor.

A deep frown immediately formed in his forehead.

“What are you scheming now?” Sylus scowled, half exasperated and half in disbelief. “You naughty cat.”

He was even more irked when he saw how casually you wrapped your arms around that vermin, twirling and pressing yourself against him in a waltz. Seeing him trying to hit on you was one thing, but for you to reciprocate was just plain unacceptable.

—and to his ire, your audacity continued throughout the night.

. . .

“Miss Mephisto, do you play pool?”

“I do.”

“Then, will you play with me?”

Sylus was now burning with tendrils of anger, watching you from a closer corner. He had seen the broker put his hands on you so many times that he had lost count—during the dance, mingling with other guests, and while sharing hearty laughs. All in all, you were acting as if you had forgotten he was even here.

You were threading on a very thin ice and whether you realized it or not... you didn't seem to care.

"Ah, I think your stance is a bit off..." And to make it worse, the broker was definitely seizing every chance he could, as there was nothing wrong with your form—you often accompanied Sylus playing pool, so you were a pro—and yet he still got behind you, trying to drape his arms around your body.

That was the last straw. Enough is enough.

Before Sylus realized what he was doing, he stormed over to where you were, yanked your arm forcefully, and effectively separated you from him. He didn’t give a damn about the horrified shout from the broker or the judging looks from other partygoers as he dragged you by the hand out of the ballroom.

“Sylus!” you nearly shrieked when he kicked open a door to a meeting room and locked it with his black-red mist. He pinned you against the wall, and crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Mmph!” You tried pushing him back, but he was stronger and held you in place, his tongue forcing your lips open as he pressed the back of your head toward him. His other hand slipped inside your dress—between your legs— two fingers in—

“—!” you couldn't even squeal as he devoured your mouth and the shock set in, feeling yourself getting aroused by the minute when his fingers did that scissoring thing and edged you further.

After he was done with your mouth, his hot lips trailed down to your neck and shoulder blades, sucking hard on several spots, making you gasp and moan.

"Hah... this... is the price to pay for testing me, sweetie," your lover growled his nickname for you with satisfaction as he noticed you trembling body, nibbling on your shoulder. "You want to get punished so badly, huh?"

"Ahh..." you threw your head back, clinging to him, grinding yourself against his fingers.

"Is it funny to you? Watching me see him touch you?" Sylus' unforgiving ruby eyes stared down at you like a lion eyeing its prey. "What an insolent little kitten you are..."

His fingers kept moving and thrusting inside you in an alarming speed, mercilessly hitting that one spot that could make you cry. He was seriously teaching you a lesson by forcing you to come undone right then and there.

"I-I...!" you tried to refute, but then you felt the knot inside you burst, and in the next second, you could feel yourself coming all over his fingers, shuddering, your breaths coming in pants.

Feeling faint, relief washed you when he pulled out his fingers. You leaned and clung onto him, pulling him closer, and Sylus finally saw what a mess he had turned you into.

Your glassy eyes focused solely on him, seemingly pleading—and those swollen lips, as well as the sizzling heat creeping up your cheeks—

“Ha,” he let out a low chuckle, a wicked grin curling his lips. “If I can still make you look like this, then I suppose I can forgive you.”

“You’re a meanie,” you mumbled breathlessly.

“You’re the mean one,” Sylus tutted with narrowed eyes, starting to pull away from you.

But then you pulled him close again and pressed your lips to his, this time with a gentleness that surprised him.

There was no malice or burning desire in your kiss. Strangely, it felt far more intimate. You pulled away, the heart-stopping swirls of his red eyes captivating you as you pressed your foreheads together.

“Needy, aren’t you, sweetie?” Sylus whispered, holding your gaze, his breath hot against your skin.

But right now, all of a sudden, you looked so vulnerable to him, as if any wrong word from his lips would shatter you. It made him almost feel guilty for manhandling you so roughly.

You didn’t respond, just wanting this closeness with him. Behind your snarky words and little schemes, this was what you wanted more than the release you just got. Sometimes, you still worried—did he want this too?

“What is it?” Sylus asked with a frown, seemingly concerned. “Talk. Tell me.”

“Nothing…” you replied in a small voice.

“Do you feel sick? Want to go back?”

You shook your head.

You weren’t usually this quiet. Sylus couldn’t help being restless at your sudden change. It felt awkward for him to do what he was about to do next, but instinctively, he figured it would comfort you a bit.

You felt a pang in your heart when he pulled away, but in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped you as he pressed you to him, burying your head against his sturdy chest.

For someone who deals with blood and gore, your body felt too soft and fragile, yet still fit perfectly in his arms. Though he had held you and made love to you many times before, it was only now that he truly noticed how small you were.

“You’re warm…” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of a whine.

So needy and pliant… for him.

“My woman is such an enduring mystery.” Sylus mused, sounding almost as if he were lamenting. “Sometimes she’s a brazen kitten without a shred of shame, but then she pulls stunts like this.”

Your heart picked up the pace. You are... his. That was right. You were his woman in every sense of the word now, and he wasn't shying away from it.

But to cover your embarrassment, you could only come up with, “Can you not refer to me as cat...?”

He shot you an irked glance. “No.”

“He calls me by your bird’s name.”

“...”

“Sylus, you can’t murder him. Your deal will go down the drain.”

“Tch.” Sylus blew out an annoyed sigh, glaring at you. “By the time I get back here, you’re going back with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes.”

Honestly you were exhausted, and you wanted to nothing more than a good sleep. But you couldn't just leave the broker without preamble because this deal depended on him, and Sylus too had some loose ends he had to tie before the two of you left.

Strangely, all eyes were on you when you returned to the ballroom. You wondered why as you navigated the crowd until you met the broker you had fooled in so many ways.

“Oh, Miss Mephisto, you’re back!” he was visibly and utterly drunk, and you cringed at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. But then you noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated on your—

Neck. You realized in horror.

“Oh... hic, t-that... I-I see,” he blabbered, coughing awkwardly as he stared at the marks on your neck. “Miss... so that man is... y-your lover...?”

“Uh...” It was a wonder he didn’t recognize Sylus at first glance. Perhaps it was because he was so infamous, but it astounded you how this person couldn’t even tell that it was him.

"I-I thought... w-we..." he hiccupped again heartbrokenly, before snatching a glass on the table. "Oh, I need more drink!"

You observed him, half cringing. "Sir, I just want to remind you that once the documents are signed—"

"Yeah, yeah! It will be done by the end of the week!" he yelled at you. "Miss, how about you have a drink too!?"

Suddenly, a glass of gin was shoved into your hand, and you let out an irritated sigh. Yeah, he might be right. A glass of alcohol would help you sleep better tonight, you figured, so you chugged it down.

"Huh...?" And it didn’t take you long to realize something was amiss. The dizzying sensation set in far too quickly, you felt so hot, and you had to lean on the table next to you to keep from falling.

“Are you okay...?” a waitress asked you with concern, but the only sound you could hear was your own violent heartbeat. Before you knew it, the glass in your hand slipped from your grasp and crashed into the floor.

"Oh, miss! Are you okay?!" the broker suddenly got a hold over your body. "Oh! It seems you aren't feeling well! Let me escort you to you room!"

Room? You barely discerned what happened when he led you out of the crowd. Your head spun terribly, and then suddenly throbbed, making you clutch it and cry out in pain, "Ah!"

It didn't make sense, no matter how you saw it. You had a pretty good tolerance, so for you to get hungover from a gin was just—

“Oh, does it hurt much?” he suddenly asked in your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t worry... it'll be bearable soon enough... I’ll make sure you will feel good…”

It's him! You realized. He spiked your drink!

His arms were now locking yours, steering you to go into the elevator. You took a deep breath before directing your speech manipulation evol on him— "Let go!"

He was immediately jerked away from you, but as a result, you almost crumpled, your vision swimming and your head pounding intensely. The pain made you feel close to passing out, and yet you managed to trek forward, leaning on the wall for support.

You had to get away from him before he could catch up to you. Panic set in, and when strong arms caught you, you convulsed, thinking he had grabbed you—

“Stop thrashing!”

“S-Sylus...?” You looked up, trying to focus on his face, but everything was so blurry.

“I’m here.” His voice was ragged, and you’d recognize it anywhere. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”

“M-my head...” Your voice came out as a broken whimper, clutching at your throbbing head. “Hurts...”

You were feverish, trembling against his hold, and you reeked of alcohol. Sylus instantly realized something was seriously wrong and pressed your head into his chest to provide comfort. “Just a little bit longer—” his deep voice carried a subtle hint of alarm as he hoisted you up to his arms. “Hang on, alright?”

But just as he was about to bring you back, he caught the sight of a fleeing silhouette in the corner, and realizing who it was, his right eye blazed, black and red mist swirled in the air and restrained the broker, engulfing his screams.

“S-spare me! P-please!” the man pleaded tearfully, pinned on the ground, and Sylus approached him silently, looking down at him with so much spite in his eyes.

“A roach that doesn’t seem to know his place…” The corners of his lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Whether you survive or not depends on you. Best hope you’ll last.”

Despite his pleas, he paid it no mind as he walked away with you in his arms.

When you awakened, your head was no longer pounding.

It took you a moment to realize there was a cool compress on your forehead, you were now in a clean oversized sweater, and someone was holding your hand.

Sylus. You looked up to find him asleep, sitting with his back against the headboard beside you. It was rare to catch him sleeping. In this moment, he looked defenseless, yet a faint frown lingered on his handsome face.

Has he been waiting for you like this, holding your hand all night...?

You tried to get a better look at him, but the rustle seemed to wake him up instead, as his eyes cracked open.

“You awake?” he asked, voice so sultry it woke all your senses up. “I was just shutting my eyes.”

“Aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping like that?” you asked.

Sylus turned toward you, his eyes still hazy from sleep. “What about you? Feeling better?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently.

“Really, you...” His stare was so withering it made question marks appear in your head. “I took my eyes off you for one minute, and you ended up with alcohol poisoning?”

“—? I didn’t know! But wait, what happened to that bozo?”

Sylus gave you a deadpan look, and you gasped. “You… didn’t kill him and have his body secretly disposed of, did you?”

“Just who do you think I am?”

“…a kingpin of an illegal syndicate?”

Your lover’s scowl deepened further at your response. “Nah, he got lucky. I only returned him with a broken jaw, broken hips, and two missing teeth.”

“Sylus!”

If he looked sleepy before, now he definitely looked wide awake. Sylus always sleeps at dawn, and you wanted him to rest more than anything, but now you were itching to ask him...

“Say... were you waiting for me while sitting like this too when I wasn’t conscious for three weeks?” You avoided his gaze, the question burning on your lips. Sylus had never given you a straight answer whenever you asked him about this.

This time too, he grumbled, “Why do you keep asking that?”

“Because I can’t ask Luke and Kieran, they look as if you’d set them on fire.”

Sylus went silent, not giving you any affirmation at all, and you huffed and unclasped his hand, pursing your lips together. “I see. You don’t care about me at all. Noted.”

You heard him sigh, before his red eyes squarely landed on you.

“When I was shot, you worried about me even when you know I’m going to be alright,” he suddenly posed the question on you. “Didn’t you?”

You nodded, and he tousled your hair again—the action alone somehow made you feel warm.

“Whatever you felt that day, that’s the same to what I went through during those three weeks. Multiply it by ten.”

“Huh!?” you rose up from the sheets in surprise, facing him.

Sylus then turned away from you, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. “That’s it, sweetie. I’m going back to sleep now.”

“Wait!”

You scrambled into his lap, clinging to his shoulder. Sylus begrudgingly opened his eyes again, a look of irritation on his face. “What?”

Multiply it by ten…? Heh. At this moment, you felt light and giddy, knowing that the two of you were now true lovers in every way that mattered even when you were faced with his sourness.

“Don't scowl too much!” you giggled merrily. You placed your fingers on the corners of his lips, gently lifting them to force a smile. “Honesty suits you much better, Sylus. It’s recommended.”

This cheeky woman... Sylus never thought the day would come for him to experience these myriad of emotions, much less for them to be incited by you.

He pulled you close, one arm around your hips and the other around the back of your head. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss that left no room for further conversation, only parting when you both needed to catch your breath.

“If you want me to, then don’t make me relive those nights,” he said with a sly smile, his crimson eyes glinting in the light and his voice like silk against your ears. “Can you?”

His tone softened your gaze, a warm sensation spreading through your chest. You responded with a playful snort, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him another peck on the lips.

After your innocent make-out session, you nestled closer to him with a contented sigh, savoring the reassuring warmth of his embrace as you both drifted off again into the morning.

Epilogue

"Do you hear anything?"

"No, nothing..."

Luke and Kieran whispered amongst themselves as they tried to hear anything of importance beyond Sylus' bedroom. After their boss went back home with you passed out in his arms last night, they had totally expected the worst.

“Seems like she’s alright then…” Kieran concluded, stepping away from the door. “We should just go. If Boss catches us, we’re dead.”

The twins backed away from the door and went back to the living room, sighing in relief.

"But honestly, Boss has changed lately, hasn't he? He looks kinder, somehow."

"Are you sure, Luke? Maybe it's just when he looks at the missus. With us, meh."

“I still get chills thinking about when he destroyed the Protofield to dust after he found her following the explosion,” Luke gazed off in wonder. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was also heartbreaking—especially when he tried to wake her and realized she was beyond help because the steel had pierced her heart…”

Luke and Kieran went quiet at the memory.

“Anyhow!” Kieran suddenly exclaimed. “All’s well that ends well! To be honest, I totally saw it coming that they'd end up together!”

“Ooh, you're right! They did a bad job of hiding it too, no less! I mean, one time, the missus came out of his room while—”

As the twins gossiped about their master and mistress, they were unaware that Mephisto the crow, perched nearby, was dutifully recording their conversation and would report it all to his master later.

[fukashiin]

attractive things they do #2 !

— w. housewardens

⤷ "yuutapdatass tweeted: malleus pls stop dming me to rub our feet together as a nightly custom"

cw: hinted suggestive content for malleus, vil and leona. passive reader! enjoy ♡

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

shushing others so you can focus.

pens and textbooks alike cluster along your designated study table, accompanied by the riddle rosehearts as his knee brushes against yours wordlessly. he's utilising this free period, toiling out and about to aid you in your, regretfully, pointless revision. finals season starts to get rigid around this time, so he's more than content to lend a hand if you're willing to put in the effort. except—the students abounded at the table diagonal to yours start getting chattier than what's socially allowed in the library, so riddle calls them out without a pain. one "they're trying to focus." and their mouths are zipped. he turns back to you, unperturbed, and smiles. "shall we continue?"

SO patient with you it makes you cry.

riddle may be a bomb of ire waiting to burst at any given moment, but you believe that his patience shouldn't go uncredited. a tireless awardee, a distinguished laureate, going sleepy in your eyes, although he's wrestling to win over the urge just so you can get the hand of the concept he's cramming into your head last-minute. the scent of white petunias could really alleviate his fatigue, and you make a promise to bring over a few of those in favour for his devoutness to your study sessions. for the time being, he'll make sure you pass, for him, and for yourself.

vows that he'll outdo your stupid ex in every way.

whatever your ex did wrong, riddle will do better. that's just in his nature. he swears with each and every fibre of his body, nuzzling his head in the dip of your shoulder, that he'll love you in ways that your morose ex never bothered to think about. a muttered pledge that couldn't compare to the pious burn that lit in his eyes, like a withstanding candle refusing to go out. his confessions are firm, where he'll be the betterment that you wished for on an astral night, so please, don't put him in your doubt.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

pressing you against the nearest wall he spots to kiss you.

there are numerous attributes to this man that renders you hopelessly drunk in love. one of them is his maddening habit of pressing you flushed against the nearest surface in his sight, and the most poorly lit areas when you're in stranded in a public space to guise the both of you. he executes this with the softest hint of care, ensuring that the landing wasn't too harsh, and advancing when given the green light. wispy strands of hair stroke your skin like a feather, as fine lips come crashing down to yours in a heartbeat, in paradise. he gives you a sheer once-over, bringing up the following statement: "grab onto my vest if you need to."

breathes the confidence into you.

downgrading oneself may be in his dictionary, but it won't appear in yours. he'll clasp any opportunity to brandish his infamous eye-roll to those whose comments about you stray a bit too loud. you may be a bit thrown off by the audacity and aimlessly think about the ways of which you could live up to his—your standards. you take a bit to reorient yourself when you hear your name being called out, sluggish hands circling your waist, as you're unable to finish your thought about how beautiful he is until he asks whether you're actually sparing a single thought for those nobodies. he casually states that you're leagues better than them, whether you think so or not, and won't mind giving you a physical demonstration if you can't bring yourself to accept it yet, because he knows it.

just knows what you want without you having to tell him.

eyeing an accoutrement that could accent your main outfit? longing for a new stand-alone book after the last one you buried yourself in was a letdown? leona has the prices covered. despite your incessant denial, that you don't actually need those, he tells you that a little spending wouldn't hurt. he doesn't need verbal expression to know what'll satisfy you, the flit of your gaze is the only opening he requires. you're embarrassed by how easily you're read, but the hearty smile that blooms on your face will be all the excuses leona needs to keep spoiling you.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

drapes his coat over your legs if you're cold.

sometimes, you swear that he has the whole "affection capability" of a wooden plank. his actions aren't entirely faultless, nor was there not a single second of err in the delivery of his speeches, but he does haul around that handy coat solely for moments like these. perched wordlessly on top of mostro lounge's signature high stools, azul rebukes your rash behaviour after spurting out in the rain without an umbrella, clothes weatherworn and all—not to mention the lounge's benevolent addition of its AC. the chills rack your body from head to toe, not noticing that a fuzzy warmth starts to blanket your legs, as azul pats it down creaseless. he says that you can pay him in return at a later date, your declining health is his utmost priority at the moment.

sets you straight when you need it.

his prized coin collection seems to blur boorishly, bleeding into the soft jazz playing in the back. the thirsting need to word-vomit all over the place, thanks to the hours of ennui you've been experiencing ever since you've trudged yourself back to azul's room, threatens to tip over the edge. he notes your irresolute responses to his (nearly) bombarding questions while he's planted over at his desk, and takes the initiative to make you open up to him. he wants you to look at him, commit his words to memory, as he caresses your shoulder under the twinkling lavender glow of his night lamp with a sure look in his eyes, guaranteeing that you're going to do fine.

has a secret album dedicated to pictures of you in his gallery.

azul tries to get accustomed to the revolutionising tricks of technology just for you. fine, if he has to pass through every single hyperlink and learn unfamiliar terms, that's on him. other than owning a booming magicam account promoting #mostrolounge, he saves a single, peculiar file in his gallery that hoards all the pictures he's taken of you when you're together, on a date or not. he can't tell if your lovely visage is the sole cause to the rapid change of pace in his heart when he's dealing with a mounting workload, but if you ever drag yourself down after taking a quick glance at them, he'll bring you right back up.

KALIM-AL-ASIM

clears the hair out of your face when its windy.

you may be a tad bit hesitant to ride the magic carpet every once in a while, but kalim's sparkling serendipity puts your heart at ease. he takes you for a midnight rendezvous, golden embroidery flashing and sheening at every twist and turn you direct with the tassels with aplomb—as he compliments. his headpieces jangle merrily like a thousand bells in the breeze, up until he notices your sight being blocked by the troublesome hair whirling all over the place. chuckle as he may, he shifts it to the side of your face with a deft hand, tracing the last strands down to your chin. "there. seeing better now?"

interlaces your hand with his in your sleep. (the physical touch GOAT)

wrinkled bedsheets rustle under the weight of your movements, coarse, and even a bit sullen as the morning ooze of sunlight drenches through your curtains, as if it prohibits you to sleep in the entire day. kalim's newfound ailment forces the two of you to be separated indefinitely, so colour yourself surprised when you feel the taut clutch of your hand in another, holding onto the remaining pieces of you that he needily ached for all night. sun-kissed fingers wove between yours like silken ribbons, his eyes pleading for you to stay, as a minute—a moment without you in his world—would be infallible torture.

purchases a piece of the moon for you.

you know those moneyed, wealthy fans who purchase a piece of the moon for their favourite idol? kalim gets influenced, and is driven by his conviction that you deserve something more extravagant than rowdy parades or a hallowed mansion (regardless of how many he wishes to buy). he takes it upon himself to surf across Lunar Registry, registering your full name and gifting its stated amount for approximately...5000 sq ft of land of the celestial body that hung high in the sky, radiating its extraterrestrial luminance on your nights of sobriety. you chide him for such an impulsive act in return, but soften up when he states, upright, that he would gift you all the stars in space if he could.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

brings you to touch him himself.

no use if you're cowardly in the bold language of physical touch, vil will simply make you oblige into feeling him, whether its physically or through minds. oftentimes you find yourself hastily straddled on his lap, him decked in his satin-sewn pajamas, as you prod and poke his hands nervously while scrutinizing every area of skin that screamed of his unyielding years of care. there's a teasing lilt that lurks behind his voice, questioning if you're seriously taking your time trying to figure him out where you're aware that he's less than patient. he seizes your hand in his grip, and leads them to his chest—shamelessly. if he needs to remind you of who you're with every day, he'll be more than committed to reel you closer to his body.

demands full eye contact.

tsking and huffing is, an unsurprisingly normal habit for him to adapt. and this includes moments of when you're shying away from him, heaving under your tense breath about how unfairly attractive he is. slick in his latest outfit tailored specifically according to his calibrated measurements. high stilettos bests your height, and he almost seems disappointed in the lack of praise he's receiving (although he knows exactly why). you feel a manicured finger tilt your chin upwards, as your teetering praises come to an abrupt halt. he smiles, demanding you to look him in the eyes throughout every second you're worshipping him.

tells you to ready yourself before he showers you in his love.

vil wants you to experience each and every slide of his nails against your feverish skin, whispering pure promises and cherishing you, affirming that you're worth much more to him than a million grand. if you ever throw yourself below the bar lower than necessary, he waves your deplorable behaviour away, and asks if you truly believe that you're tumbling down that route of thinking when you're with him. vying arms enclose your figure like a velvet blanket, surrendering your chapped lips a centimetre away from his, as his refined scent tickles your nose until he advises you to prepare yourself to revel in his untiring devotion. all your worthwhile priorities were put on hold until further notice.

IDIA SHROUD

leaning back in his chair after finishing a game.

you arose from your sleep, previously dozing off while perusing written tales of the past propped up on idia's bed. the culprit of your awakening is off cheering in the same vicinity after speed running a round and emerging victorious, unmanned, of the latest version of a first-person shooter game he recently installed on his computer. he starts to recline in his chair as it creaks off his weight, arms slackened behind his head and his sweater gliding off of his stomach, exposing the barest bit of delicate skin that indulges you to run your hands across. he emits the heaviest of sighs while he runs a sore hand through his hair, as the disorientation of your mind starts to scatter all over the place.

"i thought it'd cost more."

Idia Shroud will not have you get scammed by lowly, needling scammers surfacing online websites like newborn piranhas. his head begins to split when you spout about the official item being too pricey and that you won't be able to milk a single penny out of your derelict dorm, so he insists that he pays for the item for you himself. you send him a link of the mentioned item, and he felt like he was dragging himself through wet cement throughout the whole mire. he remains indifferent to the price overall, and goes "oh? i thought it'd cost more." with a brazen smirk etched on his face that it almost gave you a whiplash.

discreetly orders things to your front door.

quivering lips settle atop of your shoulder for the last time before he sends you back from his room after the intimate amour that had you two wondrously occupied for the entire day. you pilfer a single gummy worm from his desk, and cloak yourself further into his jacket that intoxicates every one of your senses as you streel into the night air that reeked of petrichor. your steps begin to feel like bricks, whilst your eyes were betraying your wish to stay alert. as you approach the front door welcoming you to your dorm, you gauge the sight of a small box placed on the carpet with a small note plastered on it that follows the lines of "for you, pretty thing."

MALLEUS DRACONIA

cushioning your head with his hand.

bony fingers sail through the pleasance of your hair, twirling each and every tendril that it meets and bringing them to his defined, pillowy lips. amusement cracks through the ominosity that sits in his eyes, shielded by his bangs as he beams a smile your way before grasping your shoulders in a split second. he pushes you down onto the mattress with a thud, cushioning your head with a single hand, and tells you to save your yelps and complaints before he endows you with the ability to sing for him all night. he reassures you that he does in fact, know how to secure the deadbolt on the door.

doesn't bother with any potential contenders whatsoever.

malleus but it's "okay, and?" personified. yes, he's heard of the towering sovereign in the neighbouring country who was recently appointed. yes, he's heard of the lucrative salesman nearby situated in town whose attention you captured after visiting his booth. yes, he's heard of Leona Kingscholar. but he could not give Two (2) flying tamagotchis about whoever has been swaying your way, tossing cheap and low-grade courtship in an attempt to earn your affection. he notes that he does have some cheesy pick-up lines of his own to use, but unlike the others, he knows you inside and out. he has no use for the mainstream ways of love and is eager to please you to his own liking, further revealing the unparalleled reverence he maintains for you and only you.

brushes his fingers over your collarbone.

once you step across the threshold of his bathroom, adorned in his nightwear, malleus can't help but dim the lights with the flick of his finger after catching the sight of your collarbone that peaks out from underneath. he's in front of you the moment you blink, and hums in response to your addled self. he brings his ice-tipped fingers to your neck, padding it with caution, and sliding them down to the V-shaped collar that hides the rest of your warmth. stark fingers ghost over the structure of your collarbone, and malleus asks whether you think the gibbous moon will be kind enough as to not set so early.

[medusaesque]

Kim Kitsuragi and the pale-

Kim has a unique relationship to the pale, I tried dissecting it and making sense of it. Reposting with more thoughts after some good conversations with @binomech.

Warning- it's insanely long.

1. After life, death

One of the first thing you can learn about Kim is that he would hurl himself in death's way to save you. From the very first moment, Kim is related to sacrifice and death, it follows him wherever he goes-

The slaughterhouse.

He lost his parents at two years old. He worked a year in Processing (here's good post about that by @renmorris and @spilledkaleidoscope). He lost his partner, Eyes. People have taken a bullet that was meant for his more than once. His survivor's guilt is insane. He's killed six people. He's afraid of killing recklessly, and has a deeply unhealthy relationship with his gun (made another embarrassingly long post about that).

Kim also hears pale 'ghosts' on the police radio all the time, talks about it like it's normal, and says he doesn't believe in ghosts.

If harry is with Noid during the Moralist dream quest (more on it later), Harry can even wonder if Kim himself is a ghost, prompting this beautiful exchange-

And he's not entirely wrong. When Harry gets shot, after Kim fulfills Espirit's promise and stands in death's way for him, you can ask as you fall into darkness what will happen to you-

It's the living who are ghosts. You can leave them behind and rest. Go into the wild pale yonder, along with everyone else Kim has ever cared about. Or at least you can try to.

When death is at the door, you have two options-

2. After death, life again

Kim might associate himself with death, but Harry associates him with life again and again- Death is darkness, Kim has a light bulb halo. Death is a sunset, Kim is a sunrise. Death is where you are when the game start, it's ready to take you, and then- a clarion call, the sound of a motor carriage, a detective arriving on the scene, and you open your eyes.

Of course Kim is no actual saint, no guardian angel, but it's really telling that even in harry's deification the symbols of Kim's holiness are worldly, almost mundane, the matters of every day life- a celling's fan lightbulb, the engine of a car..

Or the way @binomech said it when discussing Kim's portrait: this is the only thing keeping you from the full brunt of the world in your mind #but truly you are already in the world #and he is just a man #and that's just a car and that's just a ceiling fan

The game is very clear about Harry being a ceaseless agent of the world, but he's not the only one. Harry stands at death's door twice, and Kim is his way back to the world both times.

3. After the world, the pale

So what is Kim's relationship with the pale?

As casual as he might try to appear, Kim is clearly uncomfortable with the pale, afraid of it even. When Harry brings up the pale, he intervenes, genuinely worried for the fragile stability of his mind, trying to protect him-

It's no more terrifying than water or death or that we're stuck behind our eyes for all eternity?? Sounds pretty terrifying Kim...

I think the key is in the moralist vision quest, When Harry attempts to reach the Committee of Responsibility, and he hears the pale crosstalk coming through the radio, when suddenly-

"Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything." You could hear anything, but you hear Kim. Soona even says that the odds of us hearing him, out of all the voices in the pale, are astronomically low.

We know the past has not been harmless to Kim, we know it's full of ghosts and cold winters, but that's not the thing that's eating at him-

Kim is afraid of forgetting. He's constantly writing, he thinks through his notebook, always recording, so he wouldn't lose anything. That's why the pale is so terrifying to him.

4. After the pale. the world again

The world is what it is. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

That leads me to the expeditions through the pale-

Volta do Mar is a skill unique to Kim, according to the stats of this pilot jackets, and it's a Physique skill.

It's driving me crazy to think how Kim wanted to be revolutionary pilot as a kid, and is walking around dressed like a pilot as an adult, to give himself the ability to navigate the pale. To return from the sea-

DISTANT ENEMY OF HIMSELF?? kim....

Seeing how Volta do Mar is strengthened by his jackets, and the items' descriptions point out that most of the people who used to wear this jacket are long gone (alongside what they represented) and considering that the only real advance in pale transit is the speed with which an aerostatic craft can pierce it, is seems fitting that returning from the 'sea' requires the kind of armor that ghosts wear- the ghost of who you wanted to be but never could, of a home that was never yours. Glory to them.

@binomech said it best in this conversation we had about Kim's skills: "your traitorous race. your traitorous job. your traitorous parents. your traitorous senses. distant enemy of yourself: seolite, communist, cripple, faggot. and you wear it as armor"

Kim is equipped for Volta do Mar, he armors himself for it every day, for the thing that makes it possible to return sane, and discover a new world-

This is one of the most touching Kim moments in the game to me- putting his hand in the rain, looking up to the sky, mouth open, welcoming the spring rain, even knowing it'll bring death and destruction with it. He is devoted to this world and the role he has to play in it, or at least the role he thinks he has to play-

But we know Kim has a bigger role to play, he's trying to do his part right there, getting Harry to stay-

His connection to Harry can keep him on this world once again- keeping the two of them together. Their real work is down here, him and Harry are Revachol's only hope. If they stick together they might be able to keep her on this earth.

UNITY AMONG THE RANKS IS PARAMOUNT.

I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT.

I LOVE YOU.

[physalian]

Your colloquialisms are ruining the immersion (or, non-contemporary dialogue)

I am no expert here! Whenever I wrote historical fiction it was anachronistic historical fiction. This advice is from a reader’s perspective and from my experience writing high fantasy.

So what’s the deal with immersive dialogue? I’m going to ignore writing dialects and accents and so-called “old English” with the thee, thy, thou and such. Solely focusing here on the narrative telling me this isn’t set in present times, and yet the dialogue being painfully colloquial like present times.

This is coming from a book I had to read set in HRE times. In it, characters were spouting modern curse words, tacking on verbal tics and crutch words like “or something” and “um” and drawing out words like “daaaamn” and “nooooo”. Rip out the dialogue and toss it in a script with zero context and it would read like two high schoolers from 2009, not two adults from the Holy Roman Empire. Which is a problem, because it completely shattered the immersion. —

1. On so-called “formal writing”

Everybody knows that nixing contractions doesn’t do a damn thing to help your writing look more “formal”, it just looks robotic and stiff, right? We’ve gotten past this as a society? There’s a time and a place for replacing contractions with the full words, but not for every single sentence.

I swear this show keeps creeping into my writing advice but here we go. Transformers Prime. The context for Optimus’ dialogue has a lot to do with his aging voice actor, Peter Cullen, and the perception of the character over the decades from the corny 80s paragon hero everyman type leader to the grizzled and wizened old soul type leader. Optimus isn’t “one of the guys,” he’s old. Very old. He’s the dad of the group (one dad, his grumpy medic is the other dad).

So he gets lines like:

“I fear Megatron’s ambition is at its zenith.”

“But if his return is imminent as I fear, it could be a catastrophic.”

“I bore Skyquake no ill-will.”

He doesn’t curse like the other Autobots. His voice only raises in surprise, horror, or rage. He doesn’t go “um/ah/so/but/eh” and always thinks about what he’s going to say well before he says it. Despite him, Ratchet (the dad medic), and Megatron all being very old, Optimus is the only one who’s “proper” and collected and dignified with his lines. The writers didn’t achieve this simply by omitting contractions, he gets them where necessary and removes them when effective (e.g “We do not.” / “We don’t.”)

2. Thesaurus Rex

Continuing with the Optimus example, no other character in that show would use “zenith” unironically. Or “ill-will”. This doesn’t mean crack open and abuse a thesaurus but there’s a huge divide between:

“Megatron’s gone crazy and he’s going to implode soon” and “Megatron’s ambition is at its zenith”.

I can’ think of a better word to use than dignified, perhaps distinguished to describe his dialogue.

He doesn’t say “what?” when he’s confused, he pauses and says something like “please elaborate”.

This is both word choice and a syntax issue so if you’re struggling to fit a non-contemporary vibe for your work, pay attention to both.

3. When to abstain from cursing

There’s something very special about the dialogue in the Lord of the Rings movies: It’s PG-13 so they can’t curse, but if they had, it would have probably ruined the trilogy. These characters are able to yell in rage and anguish, spit vicious insults at their enemies, and stare down armies that are determined to kill them, all while never breaking the immersion.

Insults like:

“Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear.”

“Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth, you witless worm.”

“Your words are poison.”

And all three were said by or about Grima Wormtongue.

Characters aren’t dumbasses, they’re fools, with the exception of Gollum’s insults toward Sam, the “stupid, fat hobbit”.

Even devoid of name-calling, Denethor absolutely trounces his second son by asking (and I’m paraphrasing) “Is there any man here willing to do his lord’s bidding?” right after Faramir expresses some apprehension about a suicide charge with his remaining soldiers, completely ignoring him and implying that he’s not a real man.

LOTR is full of juicy lines beyond curse words, too. One of my absolute favorites is: “Dark have been my dreams of late” as opposed to “I’ve been having nightmares lately.”

Do you see?? It’s poetry. The motif of Shadow and Darkness as if they’re real, physical things, all the lines of poetry pulled straight from the books like Theoden’s “where is the horse and the rider” monologue just before Helm’s Deep.

It’s dignified.

—

This one was a bit harder to, ironically, put into words without doing a full-blown case study into either franchise’s ability to write dialogue and monologues. I didn’t even talk about Ratchet’s several monologues (one of which was done perfectly in the sound booth on the first take) because Jeffrey Combs has a voice like ambrosia.

TLDR: Immersion goes far beyond your vivid setting descriptors and the clothing or the names and languages. I mostly write fantasy and sci-fi and whenever I read or watch fantasy and sci-fi that isn’t meant to be a world different from our own, or about characters who don’t speak modern English, and they go off with modern slang, syntax, and verbal tics, it just feels sloppy and weak. Pay attention to the following:

Syntax

Modern slang and jargon

Filler words/verbal tics

Curse words/curses

Flat, unmotivated vocab

*All of the quotes were from memory because I watch both of these franchises way too often. So apologies if I got any wrong.

[cartierre]

CHIHIRO | lh44

synopsis: and if all is too late, is there still a way to salvage what we once called love?

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader (formerly), theo james x fem!reader (mentioned) warnings: angst, heartbreak, (some) vulgar language, lots of dialogue, no use of y/n word count: 2.1k

author's note: yes this is inspired by billie eilish's song 'chihiro' and also a bit by nicole's and lewis' relationship/break up! tried to be experimental, please give me your honest opinion about this i beg you. this is also not proof read since i hate reading my own stuff!

You’re fine. 

Everything’s fine.

You’re so close.

No one can take this away from you now.

Taking a deep breath, the only thing you could concentrate on were your shaky hands in front of you, the many voices behind you overlapping and blurring into each other. You couldn’t distinguish your mother’s voice from your sister’s, or your bridesmaid’s from your friend’s. Your dad was out there somewhere, getting everyone to take their destined place to take one worry off your mind. 

The dress you picked out months ago suddenly starts to suffocate you, the white blinding your eyes in an uncomfortable manner. You couldn’t decipher what happened. A minute ago you felt like the most beautiful woman on earth and the next you felt like ripping off your own skin. 

You have cold feet.

No, no I don’t.

“I think I need some fresh air.”

The voices behind you stopped at once. There was a split second of awkward silence before you could hear some feet shuffling over to you. Your mother’s concerned face appeared in your view. You could tell she tried to hide her worry. 

“Are you sure my darling?” She asked. You just nodded without looking into her eyes.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry, your daughter is just having a panic attack.

“Should Savannah accompany you?” She looked at your sister, waving her over to help you up. You shook your head no. 

“I just need a moment to calm down from all the excitement.” You lied to their faces, sending them your most believable smile you had in store. You were a great liar, the perks of being an actress. 

Throwing over a soft robe to at least conceal some of the wedding dress, you hurried out of the suffocating room. You smiled and nodded at some of the people you passed by, trying to hold up your act of a happy bride. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life after all.

Getting out of the small house next to the main one, you fled the eyes of the guests and escaped into the big, blossoming garden, finding your way into the massive maze that adorned the centrepiece. The old mansion behind you disappears from your sight and with each step away from the buzzing preparations of the wedding, your breath starts to normalise again. 

Bending over and holding yourself up by your knees, you caught your breath. The heavy feeling started to disperse, your mind clearing up. Closing your eyes, you tried to focus on your surroundings.

The mild wind breezed through your hair and caressed your face, you could hear the leaves from the many hedgerows making up the maze and the water splashing softly against the fountain. Birds chirped in the distance and you could faintly make out some people’s voices up at the mansion. 

And some footsteps approaching you.

“The centrepiece of the hedge maze might not be the most convenient hiding spot.”

You tensed, your eyes snapping open and you straighten your back. He was behind you, so he couldn’t see the shock written clearly all over your face.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You still hadn’t turned around. 

“It would be rude to turn down a wedding invitation without a good reason.” He answered, and you could hear his steps getting louder and louder behind you.

He slowly came into view. You had yet to turn your head into his direction, but from the side you could see him sitting down on one of the stone benches next to you. 

Finally, you turned your whole body to him. He wore a black suit, classic yet he made it seem so chic. His hair was braided back, his beard trimmed neatly and you could see some of his tattoos peeking out from underneath. Gold jewellery adorned his ears, his neck and hands.

He looked absolutely ethereal.

“And I figured if you didn’t want me to be here, you wouldn’t have invited me.”

You felt your body burn out of embarrassment. You didn’t answer him, you just kept staring at him with your most neutral face you could muster. 

“Theo was the one who suggested it.” 

He chuckled, and part of you wanted to melt right there. 

“He’s always been a gentleman.”

Silence. Birds chirping, leaves blowing, water splashing, the occasional yell from someone up the mansion. 

“I see you’ve got the venue you always wanted.” He looked around. “The waiting list must’ve been long.”

“They made an exception for us.” You kept your answers to a minimum.

“Right.” He nodded and kept admiring your surroundings. “The perks of being rich and famous.”

His eyes found yours again, you felt your heart stop for a second before returning to a rather fast speed. You hoped you kept your cool at least from outside.

“You look beautiful.” His eyes soften, the smile on his lips genuine.

“Thank you.” You gave him a nod.

“Theo is a lucky man.”

You could’ve been that lucky man.

“So they say.” 

He chuckled again. “You used to be more talkative.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to hold a conversation with you.” He laughed at your words, shaking his head.

“Say the words and I leave.”

You kept silent. He smiled.

“You have cold feet.” You felt like an arrow just entered right in the middle of your guts. “That’s why you’re out here and not up there.”

He analysed your body language. 

Fuck, he’s always been good at reading you like an open book.

“You’re scared.” He finalised his conclusion. “I’m just figuring out why… You always wanted this. Big engagement, great wedding, grand marriage…” He placed his chin on his hands, his arms resting on his upper legs. “What are you scared of?”

You bit your lip, your arms felt heavy on your sides, your fingers started to fiddle with the material of the robe. You felt so naked in front of him, so insecure and exposed. Your breath starts to pick up again.

“What are you running from, my love?”

He felt your body language change up in pace, your neutral stance completely flipping over. He stood up, his face painted in worry as he approached you. “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“Fuck you, Lewis!” You took a step away and he stilled instantly. “Don’t fucking call me your love!”

You breathed heavily, as if you were close to exploding from all the emotions flowing inside you. Maybe you were.

You’re fine. 

Everything’s fine.

You’re so close.

No one can take this away from you now.

You calmed yourself again.

The birds are chirping.

The leaves are blowing.

The water is splashing.

The wedding is happening.

“I’m sorry.” You apologised. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Lewis looked at you, you avoided his gaze. You could sense him sitting down again. 

“I think you swearing at me is the closest I’ve seen from the you I know.”

“Well, you don’t know me anymore.” You snapped. “You haven’t in years.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t.”

You sighed too, your hands dropping to your sides again. You know you should just leave and return to your girls. They were probably already looking for you. 

Yet you took one step after the other and sat down next to him. 

“I am scared.” You confessed. You didn’t know why you were telling him this. Maybe because you felt like he was the only person you could talk to. “It was supposed to be you.”

Your mother would kill you for having such thoughts and your friends wouldn’t understand. Your sister would roll her eyes at you and god forbid your future mother-in-law knows about any of the doubts you had about marrying her son.

“I know.” His words made you smile sadly. 

You looked at him and he looked at you. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you the way he did. No one, not even Theo.

“You were always meant to be a bride.” He twirled a strand of hair of yours between his fingers. “I just wasn’t meant to be a groom.”

You looked away and he let go of your hair, his hand lingering for a second in the air before dropping onto his lap. 

“I know.” Now he was the one smiling sadly.

You fiddled with the bow holding together your robe. Your thoughts were racing, but none made sense. 

“You shouldn’t be scared.” He took your hand in his, his fingers playing with your engagement ring. “You wouldn’t be wearing this if it was wrong to marry him.”

“Sometimes I catch myself thinking what ring I’d be wearing if you had been ready at the time.” You breathed out, leaning back against the bench. “And then I feel silly thinking that way about a man who has broken me in a way I thought I was never going to recover from it.” You snatched away your hand from his grip.

You heard him sigh next to you. He held his face in his hands and you could tell he was ashamed of his past actions. “I was an asshole.”

You chuckled at his words bitterly. “Yeah, you were.”

There was some understanding silence between you. This time it didn’t feel uncomfortable, no, more reassuring. He knew, you knew. There was no need to focus on your surroundings.

“I don’t think I want you at my wedding.” You breathed shakingly, unsure how he’d react to your words. You looked at him on your side. He was already staring at you. His eyes were sad, yet he understood you. He always did.

“Can you do me a favour?” He asked. “Can you show me your dress?”

Without any further words, you stood up and unveiled yourself from your robe. He sucked in a breath.

It wasn’t particularly extravagant. The simple cut hugging you perfectly as if it was custom made for you. Maybe because it was. The designer of your choice had outdone themselves, keeping it the exact same way you had envisioned it. 

Elegant, modern, ethereal.

It took Lewis a minute to compose himself. He never thought he’d see you in a wedding dress. Part of him regrets that he asked you to show yourself to him.

“You’re an angel.” You don’t look like an angel, you are an angel. You blushed.

You took your robe again, covering yourself up as much as you could. “Thank you.”

For a second you stood there and took a deep look at him. The way he sat there, it had changed. Before, he looked so confident, so sure of himself. After he saw you in your dress, you weren’t sure what to make of him.

He looked small.

“I should go.” You couldn’t bear it any longer. You’ve already talked too much to him.

Why were you still here? 

You turned around without waiting for his response. Taking the ends of your dress in your hand, you made sure to not get any dirt on it as you stepped away from the man you once loved. Once.

“I think-”

You staggered, halting in your movements. You were a few feet away from him, already at the entrance of the maze to make your way out of it. Turning around, you saw him as he stood up. 

“I think maybe I would’ve been ready.” He nodded unsure. “At one point.”

You stared at him, your lips pressed against each other. 

“I think I was overwhelmed by it all. My career, my team, you… That’s why I ran away.”

You kept staring at him without uttering a word, your dress still held up slightly. He continued.

“I think I see that vision of yours now.” He took a shaken breath. “It’s really beautiful.”

You felt your stomach twist and your hands grabbing the material of your dress more aggressively. Why did he tell you all this now? Was he trying to sabotage you? He’s done it once, you needed to make sure he wouldn’t do it again. Not this time, never again.

You cleared your throat. “I meant it, don’t come to my wedding.”

“Wait, I-”

“Lewis,” You interrupted him. “My love isn’t yours anymore. You’re the one who needs to let go now.”

And with that you turned your back to him, your face looking up at the mansion that stood upon you. Your future lay there. He couldn’t stop you anymore.

You’re fine. 

Everything’s fine.

You’re so close.

No one can take this away from you now.

You’ve never looked back again.

[teaboot]

holy moley the idea of alexander skarsgard as murderbot is irreconcilable in my head lol. when i read the book for my scifi class i pictured murderbot as more feminine in appearance tbh, and i thought it was weird that no one else in that class seemed to. i feel like i mightve missed something in the text bc i find it wild how widespread "murderbot looks like a man" is. or is their physical appearance more fleshed out in other books?

Murderbot (it/its so far as I've read) has so far been definitively described as having:

A Humanoid figure, with two arms and legs

A human face

Explicitly no genitalia, with none desired, and no primary or secondary sex characteristics noted

(In book one) Having hair only on its head, then eyelashes and eyebrows, being smooth everywhere else

Nonhuman features on its arms/legs that can be concealed under pants and long sleeves

Some kind of mechanical port on the back of its neck that is not uncommon on "augmented humans"

No distinct freckles, moles, or markings

An incomplete internal digestive system

By what isn't described I imagine we can safely assume that it has eight fingers and two thumbs in the usual formation, though wearing shoes I'm not sure about toes.

I also haven't heard anything apropos of scarring, except that it heals rapidly, so I imagine any distinguishing marks from injuries likely wouldn't last long.

Nobody as far as I've read has referred to it by any assumed binary or neo-pronouns, and as relatively progressive as the setting is in terms of queer and poly relationships I can easily imagine that agender humans with it/its pronouns wouldn't be too terribly strange in common company either.

So far, no third party characters have called it a "he" or "she", which could either mean that nobody in this universe adheres to our current rigid social view of the gender binary and masc/fem appearances, or that Murderbot is simply incredibly androgynous. As a reader, I like to think the reality is both- a secunit doesn't need to look distinctive or gendered or have any features it doesn't strictly need outside of its function. As it says in the book, it's not a sex-model, so it doesn't need sex-parts, and it wasn't made to be looked at.

I feel like the only reason anyone would read that and ascribe to it a male face and body is because our current western society tends to treat "white male" as the natural default setting, and anything else as "other".

We expect Murderbot to be a conventionally handsome white man because that's the popular view of neutral.

But there's no reason it couldn't be performed by an actor who is female, or Indigenous, or Korean, or anyone else from anywhere else

If our Pretty White Man isn't the default neutral in Murderbot's universe, and if there is no default neutral, then the Default Neutral Murderbot was designed to look like could be anyone

Provided, of course, that they 1. Have a human face 2. Have no freckles or moles (for book 1 at least) 3. Have two arms and legs, of some manner, and 4. Don't flash their junk on screen

Aa far as I'm concerned, that's all we need.

And you know what? I think the prospect of getting to choose any actor at all, point to them, and say "This person? They're the norm! They're unremarkable! They are a version of True Neutral, and they aren't a small-nosed blue-eyed white guy with abs!"... I think that's kind of exciting, and I sort of fear that it may be an overlooked opportunity to say something interesting

[sweemmy]

Relationship with Bill Cipher.

Being in a relationship with Bill Cipher is like walking a tightrope suspended over chaos. You never know what’s coming next, and that keeps you in a constant state of alert and fascination. Bill has no concept of human or emotional boundaries, which makes every moment with him intensely unpredictable. One second, he’s laughing maniacally in your ear, his voice booming in your mind like a distorted cacophony, and the next, he’s whisking you away to dimensions that defy logic and time.

Sometimes, his physical appearances are grotesque, as if he enjoys showing you his most unsettling form just to watch your reaction. One night, he might approach you with arms that stretch unnervingly long, his eye flickering with a mix of mischief and malice. To him, it's all fun and games. To you, it’s a constant test of your nerves.

Romance with Bill is strange, bizarre, like a cosmic game no one else could ever understand. He’ll give you flowers that wither as soon as you touch them or take you to dinner in a place where time flows backward and the food looks like something from a Lovecraftian nightmare. His way of showing affection is twisted, but deep down, you sense there’s a spark of something genuine, though corrupted by his chaotic nature.

He whispers secrets in your ear that no one else knows, but those secrets are often too dark, too ancient, and they weigh on your mind like an unbearable burden. He warns you not to repeat them, yet tempts you to, just to see what happens. For Bill, human emotions are just another experiment, and you're his favorite test subject.

Sometimes, you feel like you’re losing yourself in his madness, as if the lines between your reality and his are dangerously blurring. But just when you think he’s dragged you too far, when you're on the edge of losing control, he pulls you back with a manic grin and reminds you why you stay by his side.

Bill doesn’t distinguish between pleasure and pain; to him, both are just tools to manipulate your emotions. In more intimate moments, his touch is a mix of fascination and torment, his fingers—when he has them—glide over your skin, leaving behind a burning sensation, as if he’s marking you in some invisible way. He relishes your reactions, your shivers, and whispers in your ear that pain is just another form of love.

When you’re alone, Bill amuses himself by twisting reality to his will, creating illusions that toy with your senses. One moment, you're trapped in his embrace, but the next, it feels like something is pulling you into another dimension. He laughs at your confusion, feeding off the fear that radiates from you. For Bill, fear is as exhilarating as any other emotion, and he loves to push you to the edge of the unknown.

Sometimes, he leaves marks on you, invisible scars only you can feel. He calls them "souvenirs" of your encounters, trophies of his mental and physical games. He loves the idea that you carry a piece of him with you, a constant reminder of who’s really in control. And the worst part? You start to crave those marks, longing for the twisted pain only he can deliver.

Bill is a master of contradictory sensations. One moment, he's touching you softly, almost tenderly, but the next, his nails—or whatever he has that day—dig into your skin with a pressure that borders on unbearable. He delights in your gasps and your attempts to hold yourself together. He loves when you surrender, when you embrace the chaos he brings.

In his most grotesque moments, Bill blurs the line between the physical and the mental. He plunges you into disturbing visions while his intangible presence wraps around you. What you see is as grotesque as what you feel, warping your perception of pleasure and pain. He makes you watch as your own body deteriorates, distorts into impossible forms, while his laughter echoes in your mind. And when he pulls you back, you're left trembling, fully aware that nothing you experience with him is truly real… and yet, it feels as real as you want it to be.

[justmeinadaze]

Inescapable Part 2 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Yes I stole the Jack Skellington thing from Fargo and yes I'm aware its not Halloween but I need this damnit so :D.

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie (Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie) & Young (Early 20s) Fem Sub college student Y/N, SMUT, Dom/Sub dynamics, home invasion role-play, degrading, light slapping, spanking, choking, overstimulation, DP, LOTS of dirty talk, squirting, aftercare, I think I got everything. This is all consenting and a safe word is established.

ANGST, they did break out of prison to see her, the do play with her a bit (taking pictures to show they're watching), they do get jealous and she does what she can to egg that on (brief), cliffhanger ending because I'm me and I love yalls reactions😈 😉.

Enjoy!

Word Count: 4095

Chapter 1/ Tip me <3

How? They can’t… Are they just trying to intimidate me? Scare me? What…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell startling you three feet in the air. After hastily hiding the letter in one of your drawers, you tiptoed to the front door and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw your friends on the other side. 

Gathering some chairs, you all sat outside as the evening began and you prayed none of them would notice how on edge you were. With every snap of a twig or smell of cigarette smoke, your head would quickly turn in that direction to see what was coming for you. 

Normal people would have been scared at the thought of two convicts threatening to appear at their house but you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were excited to see what they had planned until you remembered they were stuck in a cell and your head would hang. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N? You look sad.”, one of your friends asked as he tilted his head to find your eye line. 

“Huh? No, I’m just tired. With school, work, and everything else…I just need a break.”, you giggle as you try to brush off his worry. 

As the boy nodded, his palm reached out to pat your thigh but when it lingered the disgust that filled your eyes was replaced with curiosity. If they really were watching, they would hate that this boy was touching you but more than anything they would be pissed you didn’t push him away. 

Without fully weighing the consequences, you grabbed his hand and threaded your fingers between his. The boy smiled before scooting his chair closer to yours.

I shouldn’t be doing this… There’s no way they are even here to see me doing something I shouldn’t be. Fuck what the fuck is wrong with me…

“Hello.”

A small child dressed like Woody from Toy Story smiled your way as he held out his little pumpkin for you to give him his candy. 

“Trick or Treat!”

Grinning, you gave him two pieces of chocolate and he beamed right back before handing you a red envelope. 

“What’s this, sweetheart?”

“Jack told me to give this to you.”

“Jack?”, you ask but the little boy just giggles as he runs back to his group of friends. 

Continuing to smile, you shake your head as you glance over the piece of paper he gave you. There were no distinguishing markers or anything indicating who it was from. Finding a couple of Polaroids, a shaky breath leaves your lips when you turn them over. 

Within the photos were images of you from outside your window putting on your dress for the evening. Rising to your feet, your eyes scanned around the neighborhood in search for any sign of them or anything that stood out but all you saw were kids and adults trick or treating. 

“Y/N? Are you—”

Powerwalking into your home, you made a beeline for your bedroom as you looked around and found nothing. 

“Y/N? What’s going on, baby?”

“Don’t call me that, Justin.”, you snapped, slightly annoyed that they had successfully rattled you. 

“I’m sorry. I just…I know you’ve been through a lot these past few months with Derek, the internship denial, and then overworking yourself. I’m here if you ever need anything.”

You needed something but it wasn’t anything this man could give you. However, he may be able to help facilitate what you actually needed…

Roughly grabbing the collar of his jacket, you brought his lips to yours hoping he didn’t feel the cringe in your face at the fact that he tasted nothing like Eddie or Steve. Justin’s hands went to work, pulling your waist to his as he backed you towards your kitchen counter and lifted you onto it. 

The sound of something crashing pushed you two apart and you quickly ran outside to see your friends giggling as someone had drunkenly fallen out of his chair and broke the glass in his hand. 

Nervously laughing, you leaned against one of the cars and wiped away the stray tear that had fallen. 

“Ok, guys. I think I’m worn out for the evening.”

“Oh come on, nana.”, one of your friends teased. 

“No, no. I have a class tomorrow afternoon.”, you lied.

Smiling, they helped you gather the chairs, placing them back inside and you watched as everyone left but Justin lingered behind.

“Do, um, do you want me to stay with you? We don’t have to do anything. You just seem a bit jittery.”

“I’m ok but I do appreciate the offer.”

Your friend seemed to buy your smile and you watch as he gets into his car and disappears down the street. As you turn to head back inside, something on your windshield catches your eye. With a shaky hand you grab the Polaroid that was stuck under the wiper and turned it around to see the image of you making out with Justin on the counter in your kitchen. Underneath were big bold letters written in black marker.

“Bad Girl.”

########################

Running through your home, you double checked to make sure every window was locked and bolted your front and back door shut. You weren’t going to make this easy for them and as the adrenaline coursed through your veins you couldn’t help but smirk. 

This is the most alive you had felt in so long.

“Come on, boys! Is that all you got!?”, you shouted into the void. 

A knock on the back window made you jump before sprinting in that direction as best you could in your dress and bare feet, annoyed when no one was there. The lights in your house abruptly turned off and you squeaked as you realized you were now at a disadvantage. 

Tiptoeing backwards into your living room, your calves hit something hard making you wince when you realized it was your coffee table. Something fell in your bedroom down the hall and you quickly ran to the front door with the plan to cut around outside to your backyard but as soon as you turned the handle you were met with a tall, broad figure donning a Jack Skellington mask. 

Fear froze you only for a moment before you tried to slam the door in his face but he blocked it with a loud slam of his palm and you turned to run towards your bedroom to hide. After shutting and locking the door, you turned in circles debating on where to hide, finally deciding on your closet. 

He’s not trying to bang in the door. Why isn’t he trying to come in?

As soon as you opened your closet door, you got your answer as another figure in a Ghost face mask wrapped his arms around you and covered your mouth as you tried to fight him. With little effort, he dragged you with him as he let his friend in who had been waiting patiently on the other side. 

Casually striding forward, the man invades your space and removes his Jack Skellington mask to reveal Steve underneath. 

“H-How?”

Calmly smirking, his strong fingers pinch your cheeks as his forehead presses against yours. 

“You don’t speak unless you’re spoken to or you need to say ‘Red’ to stop. Do I make myself clear, little girl?” 

When you didn’t immediately respond, he pushed your head against the other man’s shoulder who ripped off the Ghost Face mask revealing an equally annoyed Eddie.

“If you want tonight to go smoothly it’s best to say ‘Yes, Daddy’ or ‘Sir’ when you’re asked something and do what we fucking say.”, he growled between clenched teeth. “Now, was what Daddy said fucking clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Fingers threaded roughly through your hair and pulled back. 

“Not to me, little girl! To him!”

“Yes, Daddy, I fucking understand!”

“So is this what you’ve been doing with your time, huh. Trying to get your needy hands on any fucking man you can. First the picture you sent us making out with some asshole and now we see you dry humping some asshole in your kitchen. Fucking whore.”

“What picture—”

Steve’s palm collides with your cheek making you gasp. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember asking you anything.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

As his angry eyes scan you over, he chuckles as he notices your wiggling in Eddie’s arms start to become less forceful. 

“You don’t even remember sending that polaroid to us do you, little girl?”

“No, Daddy. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”, you mumble as a tear falls down your cheek. You genuinely never wanted to hurt them. 

“Don’t worry, little girl. You’re going to make it up to us.”, Eddie declares before pushing you to your knees between them. You watch with wide eyes as they pushed down their prison sweats and their cocks spring free. The anticipation of the evening had them hard the entire time they spent watching you and as your palm barely makes it around their girths, they hiss and breathe a sigh of relief at the contact. 

Your lips take in Steve first making him grunt as his palm balances on top of your head. 

“Fuck, Y/N. Do you know h-how fucking long we’ve waited to feel your mouth on us?”

Moving to Eddie’s leaking tip, he groans as your head begins to bob while your hand continues to pump the other man. 

“You can f-finally live out your fantasy, Harrington. J-Just—shit—hold her hair like this and…” Gripping your hair tightly, the metalhead thrusts his hips allowing his dick to hit the back of your throat as you gag and squeeze your eyes shut. “That’s it, fuck, and a little whore like her can really take it.”

Yanking you off him, Eddie practically pushes you onto Steve’s cock barely allowing you time to breathe as he fucks your face. 

“And she fucking loves this shit. Don’t you, baby?” After bunching the bottom of your dress around your waist, he aggressively slides his hand under the waistband of your panties and glides his fingers between your dripping cunt. “Yeah ya do. Say it.”

“Yes, Sir, I love it.”

With a smug smile, they take turns using you till your make up and drool streak your face. 

“Goddamn! Her throat feels so fucking good.” Grabbing your neck, Steve pulls you to your feet as his lips roughly crash to yours while Eddie removes his clothes behind you. 

After placing himself on your bed, the long-haired boy wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you on to him, maneuvering your body until you were sitting directly on his face. His fingers rip at your panties, tossing them haphazardly on the floor before shoving his nose between your folds. 

“Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about eating this sweet pussy till you’re begging me to stop.”

You loudly moan as his tongue licks a stripe through you and your fingers promptly cling to his hair beneath you. A hand suddenly touches your side as your dress is lifted over your head and your eyes meet Steve’s before scanning his naked form. God, they both looked so good. 

“Does his mouth feel good, little girl?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

Pinching your cheeks, he glared your way but his eyes soften as they drifted down your neck to your breasts and to your tummy. Sweat was sticking to your skin as your hips rolled and you mewled, shuddering against Eddie as you came. 

Wrapping his arms tightly around you, the metalhead held you still as he continued to devour you. Tears fell down your face as you continued to cum on his tongue but he wouldn’t allow you to leave. You squirmed to get away from him, succeeding only for a moment when you pulled his hair a bit too roughly and he let you go. 

As you fell onto your stomach on the mattress, Steve reached over and pressed his palm against your shoulder blade to hold you down and spank your behind. 

“Hey! Where the fuck are you going? We aren’t even close to done using you.”, he growled as he spanked you again much harder than before. “I would have thought a little slut like you would have wanted to cum on his face some more.”

Lost in his need for you, Eddie pulled at your ankles and lifted your ass till you were exposed for him. 

“O-Oh fuck!”, you groan as he gradually guides his cock into your aching core. 

“How does she feel, Munson?”

He didn’t verbally respond but his palm yanked your hair so your back was against his chest. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. Your pussy is just squeezing my dick. Y-You like this don’t you? Bad little girl letting us stretch out her cunt. I-If someone caught us, you’d be in so much trouble.”

“Oh my god.”

Eddie’s hips slammed into yours and your head leaned against his shoulder as his palm clung to your throat. 

“We—fuck—we jerked off to this moment so m-many times, baby. Do you still want us to fill up your little pussy?”

“Y-Yes, yes Sir, please.”, you whine as his cock continues to punch into the spongy spot inside of you. 

“Beg me, Y/N. Beg for my cum.”

“P-Please, Sir. Please fill me up. I need it!”

You don’t see it but Eddie winks towards Steve as he pushes your face back into the mattress and pounds into you till your body shakes and the coil snaps. As you wait to feel the metalhead’s release, the other boy roughly lifts you off the bed and places you on top of him as he lays back flat with his head on your pillows. 

“Wait, but—”

Fingers wrap around your throat as Steve pulls you down till your nose is to his. 

“What, little girl? You thought after everything you’ve done that we would just give you what you want? You thought you could get away with it because we were locked up, didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy. I’m so sorry.””

“Not yet but you will be. Now…put my cock inside that little pussy.” Releasing his hold on you slightly, he allows you to move just enough to lower yourself down onto him, both of you groaning as he sheathes inside you easily. “Goddamn it. You’re so fucking tight. Don’t move…I just want to feel you…shit.”

Your head fell back as you did everything you could to not move your waist. You could feel him deep inside you and any little twitch had him hitting that now over stimulated spot inside you making you desperate to cum again. 

“Hey. What the fuck did I say?! Don’t. Move!”, he growled as he spanked your ass again hard.

“Oh, Steve, you can’t blame her. Little slut like her is just so desperate especially with a cock so close. Right, baby? Say it. Say you’re a desperate little slut.”

“Please… I want to cum.”

“Now she wants to cum. She was just running from it earlier!”, Eddie scolded as he pressed his face to the side of yours. “You wanna cum again you listen to what we say. Good girls do what they’re fucking told.”

“I-I-I’m a desperate little…little slut…” 

At your words, Steve’s palms hold your hips and guide your movements allowing you to grind against him. 

“Good…good girl. We’ll make you deal, Y/N. If you cum again on Daddy’s cock, we’ll fill you up just like you want. We can do it at the same time…” As you bounce harder on top of him, Steve’s hands roam your body and roughly knead your tits. “Has anyone ever taken you here, sweetheart?”

At Eddie’s question, he guides one of his fingers inside of your ass and it takes all of his friend’s energy to not cum on the spot when he watches your mouth fall open in a silent moan as you come undone.

“I’ll take that as a no.”, he chuckles. 

“N-No, Sir. C-Can…fuck…can I have water please?”

After nodding, you watch as he disappears out of your room and Steve searches your bedside drawer before producing a bottle of lube. As you wait you can’t help but reach out to run your palm delicately down his chest. You could feel his eyes watching you as you traced the faded scar just below his neck and down to the darker ones on his side. 

When Eddie came back, he threw his body in front of yours and handed you the glass you asked for, thanking him, and chugging it back. His scars were much darker but like Derek said in his interview with them, they were similar to Steve’s. Just as you had with him, your fingers traced fading marks and every tattoo you passed with fascination. 

When your eyes met his chocolate ones, you rushed forward to capture his lips with yours and without hesitation he took you in his arms, cupping your face to bring you as close to him as possible. 

Mewling, you sink down on to his cock, capturing his own moans on your tongue as you roll your hips. When you freeze, Eddie’s waves tickle your face as he looks behind you to see Steve lathering lube between your cheeks before stroking it along his length. 

“Remember, just say ‘Red’ if you want to stop.”, he whispers.

“Yes, Sir.”

Straddling his knees over Eddie’s thighs and your feet, Steve exhales and guides himself gradually inside of your ass. Your nails abruptly dig into the metalhead’s shoulders as you bury your face into his neck. 

“Hey, hey. You’re doing so good, princess. Look at me, pretty girl.”, he coos as he lightly but firmly tugs at your hair. “There she is our beautiful girl. Are you alright?”

“Hurts, Sir.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, Sir.”

Next to your ear, you hear him run his tongue along something before a jolt of electricity runs through you as his thumb slowly circles your clit and Steve inches a bit more forward. 

“Fuck—Good girl, honey. I’m almost…I’m almost all the way in…you’re doing so good.”

“I love you both…so much…I’m so sorry for hurting you…trying to make you jealous.”

When Steve’s hips connect to yours, you shudder as his breath ghosts your shoulder. 

“We—mmm—we love you to, Y/N. Fuck, Ed, I’m not gonna last long.”, he quickly pants out as he hangs his head and does small thrusts to allow you to get used to them both inside you. “Are you ready, baby?”

As you nod your head, Eddie pulls on your hair again a bit more roughly and you know what he wants. 

“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready. Please…I need you both.”

The metalhead’s arms hold you to his chest and Steve’s fingers dig into your hips as they both pump into you in the same rhythm turning you to jelly as you melt into their embrace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck you feel so good. Taking us so fucking well. Who do you—mmm—who do you belong to, little girl?”

“Y-You and…and—fuuuuuck—”

A palm wraps around your throat, pulling you till your nose was squished against Eddie’s.”

“Finish that fucking sentence. Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

“You and Steve.”, you moaned.

“Say it louder, whore, so we know you fucking understand.”, the man behind you growled roughly as he pressed his chest into your back, pushing him impossibly deep inside you. 

“I belong to Eddie and Steve! Fuck, harder, please.”

Both men thrust aggressively into you, Eddie holding you flat against him as Steve’s palm gripped your headboard for more leverage.

“Some…something’s happening…” Your body shook as an overwhelming feeling of pleasure coursed through you and the rubber band in your belly snapped. 

“Oh my God.”

As your arousal warmed him, Eddie grunted loudly in your ear as his pace faltered and you felt him warm your insides. Steve soon followed, circling his arms around you and clinging to your slightly limp form as he emptied inside you. 

##################

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep for but you woke up to the soft feeling of their lips and fingers roaming your skin. When your eyes found Eddie’s in front of you, he gently smiled your way before rolling out of your bed and comically falling to your floor making you laugh as Steve shook his head behind you. 

Bouncing to his feet, the metalhead collected you into his arms and waited for his friend to finish getting the shower ready. After the three of you climbed in, you watched them as they exhaled pleasantly at the water pressure.

Opening your different soaps and shampoo, they inhaled each and every one, even the ones they didn’t use as if trying to capture your different smells in their memory. 

Lurching forward, your arms wrapped tightly around Eddie who promptly tangled his fingers in your hair as he pressed your face into his chest. You immediately felt it within his energy…he didn’t want to let you go and you didn’t want him to. 

Steve gently but firmly pried you two apart, turning off the shower, and guiding you out to dry you off. After placing you on the edge of the bed, he found one of your shirts and playfully pushed it over your head with a big smile that you tried to return but struggled through the tears that were beginning to fall. 

As they began to reach for their prison uniforms on the floor, you couldn’t stop yourself as you ran to grab what you could of their clothes and hugged them to you as you pressed your back to a corner. 

“Please…”

“Y/N, we have to go back. This was for one night.”, Steve sighed as he tried to sound authoritative.

“Make it longer.”

“How? By putting you in danger? Your name is in all our visitors logs and the guards fucking know you by name, Y/N. If we don’t go back, this will be the first place they look.”

“Then let’s leave, Eddie! We can go to Canada or Mexico.”

“And you’d give up your dream of being a lawyer? Just like that?”, Steve responded sternly. “No. We’ve been accused of ruining plenty of lives. I won’t actually be guilty of one.”

“That’s my choice to make, Steve. I can be a lawyer anywhere. Plus, Dustin Henderson and his girlfriend are good with computers. I’m sure they can do something to help.”

At their friend’s name, both their eyes darkened as Eddie took a confident stride towards you.

“If we find out you asked them to do anything, Y/N, I swear to God. Like Steve said, we won’t be responsible for ruining more people’s futures.”

“How Martyring of you, Edward.”, you spit. “It’s ok for your futures to be destroyed as long as everyone else is fucking happy. What about me?!”

“Do you think we want this, Y/N?! Do you think we actually want to leave you?! We spent everything, fucking every cent we had to come be with you tonight! It fucking kills me that we can’t fall asleep with you and hold you. That we have to go back to that bullshit with actual murders and men who have done unspeakable things but… we have to. We have to do this right, honey.”

Sobbing, you slide to the floor and they follow you down, kneeling in front of you. 

“I love you both so much.”

Steve pulls you to his lap, rocking you back and forth as they try to comfort you. 

“Hey, sweetheart. We don’t have to leave until 6 am and it’s only two. How about we lay with you till you fall asleep, baby?”

After nodding, they tuck you under the covers and you promptly lay your head on Eddie’s chest while Steve cuddles your body to him and kisses your shoulder. 

“I love you, Y/N.”, the metalhead coos as he kisses your forehead, his heart breaking as you continue to quietly cry. 

“I love you to, pretty girl.”, the other man tries to sooth as his fingers caress your skin. 

#################

February 5th, 1998

Eddie and Steve, 

I’m sorry I haven’t answered your calls. 

I know after our last visit you both were really worried about me. 

There’s something I’ve been keeping from you… I lied. The prison doctor who looked me over after I passed out did find out what was making me nauseas and dizzy. I thought it was stress but…

I’m pregnant. 

What…what are we going to do?

I’m scared. 

--Y/N

#################

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @rockmusiciscalming12 @mikeyswifie @poofyloofy @eddiexmunsonlover @dreamliners

I think I got everyone but if I misses anyone please let me know!

[yyawnjun]

GETTING USED TO US

biker!mingyu x reader ; summary an unexpected confession between really fast beating hearts ; 1k wc ; fluff !! ; third date w mingyu, nd they're so wipped for each other 🗣 ; likes comments and reblogs are really appreciated ; hope y'all like this mwah ♡ @kflixnet

the wind tickled your face and moved your hair back, you took deep breaths in all your lungs. you moved your arms up, stretching them as much as possible, closed your eyes, and breathed.

with these breathing control exercises, and combined with other concentration activities - you tried to concentrate just on one object and describe it as much as possible - you wanted to occupy your attention while waiting for mingyu. it would be your third date, and he promised you that he would pick you on the motorbike. his motorbike. the one that not even his closest friends (according to wonwoo) had ever managed to even touch. that's why you were nervous about that night, along with the fact that you really liked that boy.

you were waiting for the boy outside your house at 9 p.m., dressed comfortably but elegantly (mingyu promised to take care of the necessary clothing on the motorbike). you were trying to focus on the background music of the bar next door to block out the distracting thoughts that were racing through your head.  

all your stoic resistance suddenly collapsed when you noticed from afar a tall boy, with dark and slightly long hair, waving at you with a smile. he arrived carrying a bag and one with a motorcycle helmet. before you knew it, he came close to you, and looked at you through eyes that were filled with a thousand different emotions, shining through like lights in a completely dark sky. you were briefly startled back to reality by the gleam in his eyes, but it was short-lived as he called your name. "hey yn, sorry for my late. have you waited a long time for me?"

"not much. you gave me time to prepare me psychologically" you replied, nodding and looking towards his helmet. he smiled at you, and shortly after you naturally started walking towards where he had parked the motorbike. "is this your first time on a motorbike?" he asked you "I remember I had tried it once, but it was less powerful than yours"

"oh I see, you scared?"

"no," you replied convinced. "look, I see you smiling and opening your eyes wide. now I know how to recognize when you're lying" he replied amusedly. you were about to answer him, but just then you noticed that your eyes were really wide… you giggled and agreed with him. a few seconds later, you arrived at the motorcycle. it was bright red and appeared much larger in real person than in the pictures. mingyu instantly gave you a motorcycle jacket and a helmet that fit you perfectly.

“here, let me help you close it,” he told you while you were busy fixing your helmet. then you saw the boy leaning down and gently pulling the laces to close the helmet. he was almost on his knees on the ground, checking that the helmet was not too tight and that its length was right for turning on the headphones that would be connected to it during the trip. you remained stayed and barely swallowed so as not to make too much noise. just proximity had already allowed you to detect the pleasant and refreshing perfume that distinguished him. "perfect, we can go," he said as he immediately got up and put on his helmet. (it's pointless to recall how enchanted you were watching him as he closed his own helmet...)

he got on first and signaled for you to get on, so you did. lifting your left leg first, and helping yourself with your hands resting on the saddle you quickly climbed up. he still had his legs on the ground and the motorbike was spent. after getting in, you instinctively lean against his back. due to the poor visibility given by the helmet, you hadn't realized how big his back was and how well-defined his muscles were, despite them being hidden by the motorcycle jacket. “you can hold on to me…” you heard directly in your ears. you immediately understood that it was due to the Bluetooth headphones that connected the two helmets. “…or there is a handle behind which you can hold” mingyu finished the sentence.

"all right," you replied placing your arms around his waist, and your hands gently on his hips.

"are you ready?" he asked you. "let's go" you replied convinced and unconsciously squeezing your hands at his sides making him give in to that contact.

noise and lights. mingyu lifts his legs from the ground, lowers his helmet visor, and takes off. and so you left. You went through the city, till you reached more rural places and long trails between the fields.

the speed increased as soon as you arrived there. you felt your heart racing, but you were getting used to the adrenaline-fueled sensation. the tension in your hold had gradually relaxed, and the wind on you made you feel more alive than ever. "woah," you said without realizing it, out of joy.

in response, you heard his laugh and a slight increase in speed. that speed made us feel it, but your feeling of safety returned as soon as you leaned on the boy with your helmet. you wanted to talk and express the thousand emotions that had gripped you at that moment. "MINGYU THIS IS FANTASTIC OH MY GOD" 

"you'll have to get used to it," he replied

“yeah...I think I might get used to it"

"is that a yes?" the boy asked you with a seemingly confident voice. "are you asking me to get used to your bike or you?"

"to us"

and for the umpteenth time that day, that boy made your heart beat wildly.

"yes mingyu. it is a yes"

And as you rushed through the night, the stars witnessed that lovely first manifestation of you both.

[semisomnosres]

I'll try to throw in a little bit of lore

A mysterious disease that only the Norisu clan could resist at the cost of their lives. Unfortunately, it was not possible to completely eradicate it and it terrorizes the city to this day, and only a ninja, thanks to the mask, can fight monsters without being absorbed by this filth. The disease is called the “Sorcerer’s Curse”; in ancient Japan it was believed that all illnesses and misfortunes were the fault of demons/yokai/punishment of the gods and other evil spirits. It all started with the fact that one of the first infected was mistaken for an evil sorcerer who cast a curse on everyone, which was completely wrong, but rumors spread like wildfire, and somehow, imperceptibly, this name stuck. (The First already has a shitload of things to do, he is one of those people who, if he could, would not blink so that he could work more, but coming up with an adequate name and then accustoming people to it is clearly not what he wants to spend his time on.)

Mutated beasts appeared just as unexpectedly along with the infection. Ugly, evil, hungry creatures, wreaking chaos and eating everyone they find. They usually live and hunt in their own territory, but at the same time they have the audacity to sneak into the city to hunt. The curse had a strong impact on the environment, poisoning the land for years and changing it over so many years so that some places resemble nightmares. (For example: Trees that look like a trypophobic hell, boiling swamps where even the steam burns to the point of pain, living pieces of meat growing straight from the ground and other delights that an adequate person would not want to see in person)

It’s relatively safe within the city, except for moments of monster attacks (which a ninja can handle) and shitty weather: hail of icy needles, acid rain season, etc. This is already common and people have adapted to such conditions over so many years. But there are also truly dangerous places where only a ninja or a complete idiot would go. (the level with the swamp from Dark Souls says hello)

From time to time, Randy has to go there voluntarily (forcibly), because only there can he get ingredients for some drugs (like those cones for creating smoke bombs) Infected people - It is quite easy to distinguish from animals - by preserved human features, personal belongings, hair, and the ability to speak humanly (but usually it turns out something incoherent, or the infected person repeats the same word) Over time, their consciousness and body will change more and more: they will begin to forget about themselves, become more aggressive and experience constantly incessant pain from body deformation and insatiable hunger (The speed of development of the virus depends on the person, some can retain their sanity and control over their actions to the last, while others They immediately break down and begin to attack those around them)

Although there are difficult situations, it will be possible to reverse the transformation, but there is an exception. - if they eat a person, or simply taste blood, then they are immediately classified as beasts and belong to extermination. (there is another point of infection, which I will talk about a little later). As in the canon, they are also called Abominations, but for a slightly different reason. In origa, their breath simply stinks, here the unpleasant odor appears due to the decomposition of cells by parasites. They smell like rotten meat in swamp soil and metal.

Logically, I decided to make changes in the approach to battles. (combat medics) They also use weapons/magic, etc., but in the original the ninja has a choice of how hard and how deep he will push the nunchucks into someone’s insides, there are more choices of poisons and types of heals.

Another idea is that it depends on the character of the ninja whether the treatment will be painless or even the feeling of an injection will be the same as being hit with a knife

And I will mention a person who has an important role in the city - McFist. As a true smart-ass capitalist, he managed to make money from the epidemic. (And more precisely, selling all sorts of devices for home protection, umbrellas against acid rain, alarms, etc. And his second profitable industry is the funeral home) Not to say that he is a straight-up villain here, he rather has the vibe of an annoying neighbor. It infuriates him that a ninja, in the heat of fulfilling his duties, can (accidentally) ruin some of his stores, and the ninja is annoyed that it’s up to him to clean up the consequences of some of his awesome ideas (for example, he will build a plant right near the borders of the city, where in the end the pipeline became for monsters highway directly to the city sewer system.)

[cheegu3]

Can you do yandere!3racha (han, changbin and chan) reaction to you trying to escape?

P.S. English not my first language, soryy ^-^

note; not sure if u wanted them all together in one scenario but I wrote them all three separate, hope u still like it, ur english is good dw <3

pls ignore the little 2/8 thing on chan's photo I got it from pinterest lol

warnings; yandere themes, poisoning, unhealthy relationships, knives, handcuffs, anxiety

3racha - reaction to reader trying to escape

Bang Chan

You felt like you were suffocating inside that stall. The ringing in your ears had long disappeared only to be replaced with a head dizzy with anxiety, making the outside noise appear muffled instead. Yet you tried your hardest to strain; distinguishing the voices outside to count how many they were.

How long had you been in there?

You remembered that your boyfriend had taken you on a rare outing, to a festival he was invited to. He had been smiling from ear to ear while telling you it was ' a date '.

The contents in your stomach mixed with the cheap alcohol threatened to make its way up again at the thought of the memory.

As soon as the pair of you had arrived, you knew that was it - the day you try to escape. It was the perfect setting. The festival was huge; having so much land that fans could decide which artist to flock to as they were all spread out over the area.

He of course wanted to go to the one that was the furthest away. For a moment you were struck by a paranoid thought, did he choose this one so it would be harder for you to run away?

But you shook it off, telling yourself that he must like indie artists since he was an artist and producer himself.

Midway, you told him that you had to use the bathroom. It was preplanned by you begging him to buy you alcohol so you could use that excuse.

He agreed but looked at you with a suspicious frown when you said you could go alone. Hurrying to cover your tracks you quickly said he could stand close by and still watch the concert while waiting, to which he agreed.

You waited and waited. The clock was ticking too slowly. You were beginning to panic thinking that he was going to call you or bang on the door.

But you were extremely lucky.

Just as the numbers on your phone told you that it had been twenty minutes since you left, you started hearing several voices. You opened the stall and stood next to the entrance to hear better.

The voices got louder. Several people passed by, chatting and cheering loudly. You made the assumption that another concert close by had ended which was exactly what you'd hoped for.

A few more minutes passed. You remained in your spot, pressing yourself against the tiles, contemplating what to do. However, the voices got fewer and they seemed to start to fade away.

It was now or never.

You pushed the door open and made a run for it. A loud ringing sound almost made your attempt to seamlessly blend into the crowd difficult, but you managed to silence your phone just before it got too loud.

The crowd moved towards the main entrance and you followed, thankful that there were so many people that even if your boyfriend tried looking for you, he'd have a hard time.

Thinking about him again made your breath hitch. You brought out your phone. His name flashed back at your widened eyes under the text that read missed calls.

Shit, that meant he was looking for you. You felt trapped. It was impossible to make the group move faster; it almost had a mind of its own, the people in front didn't budge when you tried and you were surrounded with no gap to slip to the side. You just had to accept that it would keep going incredibly slow while Chan stalked closer.

The phone called again, the haunting ringing echoing in your head even as you pressed to turn it off for a second time. Then you heard a voice. At first, you thought it was your mind playing tricks on you, but then it came again, louder.

'' Y/n! ''

You froze for a second. People pushed against you, making your body jerk forward, and others complained loudly. You hurried to collect yourself before continuing to move, fearing that causing a commotion would attract his attention.

'' Y/n, '' he said, this time his tone was much lower, sending a shiver down your spine, '' I know you're in there.''

Changbin

You regretted it the moment he lifted his spoon and gave you an ominous look; like he knew exactly what you were up to.

Your hands felt clammy as you watched him put the cutlery down again and shuddered when he crossed his arms over his chest.

'' Come here, babe. ''

You wanted to ask why and play the innocent card, but his narrowed eyes and his face lacking amusement told you that you had no choice but to obey.

So you shuffled over and lowered your head when you arrived right next to his seat at the table. Even with you not looking at him, you could hear the sound of fabric moving and saw in your peripheral vision how he patted his lap.

Swallowing thickly you yet again obeyed without a word. As soon as you had sat down, he tried to force a spoonful of soup into your mouth.

Instinctively you turned your head away which only seemed to confirm his suspicions. He wasn't dumb, you knew that. But it was pretty obvious now; he was a lot smarter than you'd thought.

'' You took a lot longer than usual to cook dinner today. '' he sighed disappointed, '' Had second thoughts, huh? ''.

You held back the bitterness that rose to the surface at the sour realization that he knew you so well that any sneaky attempt to go behind his back would immediately be noticed by him.

Still, you refused to admit what you had done. You tried putting on a brave face; a chin held high and a curious look on your face.

'' What do you mean? ''

He scoffed. '' Still playing a game? ''

'' I'm not. I was just looking up a recipe. ''

'' For this soup? That you've made a thousand times? ''

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to come up with a cheap lie on the spot.

'' I- had some drinks before making dinner actually. So I didn't really remember the recipe. ''

An uncomfortable silence passed between you. You felt too scared to look at his face, knowing that the chance of your facade crashing down was a lot higher if you did so.

Stubbornly you kept your gaze fixated somewhere in the distance, at the end of some hall facing your way.

'' I will go easier on you if you come clean. ''

Despite your mind screaming at you that it was a trick, you thought this time it was surely different.

'' I put poison in the soup,'' you weakly admitted.

Changbin hummed again, making goosebumps appear all over your skin in anticipation and fear. He was definitely mad, you knew he was. Who wouldn't be mad if they found out someone tried to poison them?

He kept a poker face even though you could guess pretty well how he was feeling inside. What you didn't know, however, was the severity of his anger.

But it was something you'd notice quite easily when he got up quickly, forcing you to be pushed off his lap. You watched as he picked up one of the nicely carved knives on the decorated dining table.

He chuckled, '' You're so naive, baby. Always trusting lying men's words. ''

Han

It was getting late. You were standing in the bathroom hoping to get a few minutes to yourself, away from your clingy and overbearing boyfriend.

The door rattled and you rolled your eyes. It had been what? Twenty minutes, yet you could hear him almost hyperventilate while trying to unlock the door.

It eventually did. When the click sounded you took a deep breath to prepare yourself. It only took a few seconds after that sound before the door pushed open and he ran to you; wrapping his arms around you from behind like it was second nature.

Your body reacted the same way it always did, it wanted to squirm out of his grasp, make his skin unglue from yours, like every part of you that was in contact with him made you feel queasy.

But naturally, you had to bear it. A fake smile appeared on your tired lips, tired from smiling so much when it wasn't real - just to satisfy the psycho man you had accidentally gotten yourself involved with.

'' Let's go to sleep now, hm? '' he hummed contently.

His breathing had regulated now that he was with his favorite person. The anxiety disappeared and he looked like he was on cloud nine. You were his drug, after all, he couldn't live without you.

'' Sure, '' you answered in a mumble.

He didn't let go of you even as you attempted to move towards the bedroom so you were stuck waddling with him clinging to you.

Yet again you bit down the fury. At least in your dreams, you got an escape from him. You couldn't wait to get into bed.

Except there was one thing that wasn't exactly ideal. Han went to his side of the bed and pulled out the drawer, bringing out the metal thing that made panic surge through you every night.

Handcuffs.

He didn't trust you enough yet. Or maybe it was rather that he knew deep down; if you had the chance you'd run, because you weren't actually in love with him.

Tonight you didn't put up a fight. You were so tired that you only showed him your wrists so he could make it quick. It shut and the coldness made you suck air in through your teeth. You moved so Han could attach the handcuffs to the bed.

He gave you a wide grin and climbed in on the other side, immediately gluing himself to you again. Reflexes made you yank on the handcuffs when his hands roamed over your body.

But something felt off. The handcuffs didn't make the loud clanking sound they usually did when you tugged on them, and the previously tight hold around your wrists had become much looser.

With blood racing in your ears, you pretended like nothing was wrong and forced your stiff body to relax in Han's arms. He sighed and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep. Not with the sweet temptation of escape.

You waited. It took a long time, but finally, his breathing turned heavier and his hold around you became softer. Slowly and step by step, you freed yourself from being under him. When you were fully free and sat up, you kept glancing at him to see if he'd woken up.

Seeing as he hadn't you then stood up and with the uttermost concentration you opened the handcuffs while trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your hand slipped out easily, almost too easily.

But you wasted no time in pondering why he had forgotten to lock it properly tonight, and instead went for the door. Outside the bedroom, it felt like everything sounded ten times louder than usual.

You somehow made it to the hall and were just about to put on your shoes when you froze. The light turned on.

Petrified with fear, you didn't dare turn around. For a minute you thought of running for it anyway; the door wasn't far away, only within arms reach.

Han didn't give you a choice, however. Noticing that you weren't moving to face him, he put himself between you and the door, forcing you to look up at him.

The look on his face conveyed heartbreaking disappointment. He felt sorry for you but betrayed as well. You winced away, the bright light felt too much like you were being interrogated.

His lips twitched, barely concealed anger visible in his eyes. He looked like you had committed the most horrible atrocity ever, and yes, in his mind you had.

You had failed his experiment of trust. In a voice that broke with each word, he cried, '' How could you do this to me? ''

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do Part 24

WC: 3102, Masterpost

Danny stared up at the towering facade of Wayne manner from its front steps.

Yep, clearly cursed.

Jason didn’t seem much more cheerful from where he stood next to Danny.

“We can still run,” Danny offered.

Jason just sighed, “No, we came through the gate so Alfred knows we’re here. If we left I’d get the eyebrow next time.”

“Ah,” Danny said with a sage nod. “The eyebrow, of course. Very scary.”

“Just you watch, once you’ve been around long enough and stop being an esteemed guest, you’ll get the eyebrow too,” Jason warned.

The warning just made Danny grin.

“What?” Jason asked, eying the smile wearily.

“You planning to keep me around long enough for me to stop being an esteemed guest?”

Jason huffed out a laugh and leaned over to brush a kiss to Danny’s temple. “You bet I am. You’d have to die to be rid of me. Oh wait…”

Danny laughed and bumped his shoulder against Jason. “Okay, well, I’ll fear the eyebrow when it gets there. First I have to get through tonight.”

“You did fine with the horde of annoying siblings.”

“Yeah, well, they got to kick my ass repeatedly in Mario Kart and Party. I don’t think that’s going to work with your dad or the guy who’s basically your grandfather.”

“Not really, Bruce is surprisingly bad at video games and Alfred would never.”

“Shame, getting beat up and getting back up is my best trait,” Danny said with a dramatic sigh.

“Just be yourself. It was enough for me,” Jason said.

Danny felt a blush crawl up his neck and cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, sap.”

Jason chuckled, pressed one more kiss to Danny’s temple, and finally took the last few steps to knock on the door. It opened almost instantly to an extremely distinguished older man in a tailed suit and white gloves.

Danny swallowed nervously.

“Master Jason, it is very good to see you tonight.”

“Hey Alfie,” Jason said. He stepped into the manor and pulled Danny in by their linked hands. “Alfred, this is my boyfriend Danny Nightingale. Danny, this is Alfred Pennyworth.”

Alfred gave a little nod. “A pleasure to meet you Master Daniel.”

Danny couldn’t help but wince at that. With the manor it brought back far too many memories that Danny didn’t want to think about. “Um, I prefer Danny, if… that’s not a problem, Mr. Pennyworth?”

“Of course not, Master Danny. But you must call me Alfred then.”

“I can do that, Alfred,” Danny said with a relieved smile. As he was handing over his coat and scarf, he picked up some noise from the stairs and tried not to turn that way.

“Remember, Bruce tonight, not Brucie or you know who,” Dick whispered in a way that Danny wasn’t supposed to hear. The benefits of death.

“Yes Dick, I think you’ve said that enough,” someone who must have been Bruce answered. At least he sounded mostly amused by his son’s harping.

As much as Danny was very aware that the Bruce Wayne was Jason’s father, it was still something to see Bruce Wayne coming down the stairs. He looked nothing like the public figure, not dressed down like he was in a dark shirt and a cozy looking cardigan.

It was almost worse because now Danny felt completely wrong footed.

“Jason,” Bruce said with a smile. “And you must be Danny.”

“Yes sir,” Danny said as he reflexively shook the offered hand.

“Just Bruce, please. That’s quite a grip you have,” Bruce said.

Danny’s blush deepened and he quickly released Bruce’s hand.

“He said he trains with a xiphos and a dory,” Damian said from the side of the room where he basically just seemed to appear.

“Greek weaponry?” Bruce asked with a raised brow. “That’s unusual.”

“My teacher’s Greek and a fan of historic weaponry,” Danny said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m not very good with them though, as much as she hopes to change that. I prefer hand to hand.”

“He’s pretty good at that. We spar once a week,” Jason said. He stepped to stand beside Danny, which Danny was grateful for.

Even aware off all the eyes in the room tracking his movement, Danny couldn’t help but lean into Jason’s side. It helped ease some of his nerves when Jason instantly draped an arm around his shoulders.

“Who else are we expecting?” Jason asked.

“Just Tim and Duke, they’re upstairs,” Dick answered as he finally came forward. “Hey Danny.”

“Hi Dick,” Danny said, “and hello Damian.”

“Yes, hello,” Damian said with a sniff. “Did you bring your xiphos?”

Danny did his best to stifle a smile. “Sorry, I don’t have one at my place, you’ll have to wait until I can make a trip back to Illinois.”

“Is that where you’re from, Danny?” Bruce asked as he waved them towards a room to the left.

“Born and raised. I came from a little city called Amity Park,” Danny explained, as if Batman didn’t already know that, especially after Tim’s digging.

Jason steered them over to the the two seater sofa in the sort of sitting room only rich people had. Once they had settled in, he took Danny’s hand, rubbing his thumb across Danny’s knuckles in a grounding touch.

“Gotham must be quite the change.” Bruce took an armchair for himself while Dick nudged Damian to the other couch.

“It is, I’ve never lived somewhere so big. I won’t pretend it hasn’t been overwhelming at times, but it’s also really nice that the city has so much to offer. I’ve been enjoying living here.”

“You’re here for school if I remember correctly?”

“Aerospace engineering at Gotham U,” Danny explained. “It’s my first year, but I’ve got all my gen eds done so I’m somewhere between a sophomore and junior.”

Bruce gave a little nod and leaned back in his seat. “Are you considering a masters or doctorate?”

“I am, opportunities get so much better with one, but I’ll just have to see in two years. I’m, um, on scholarship so it will depend if I can get a stipend for grad school,” Danny said, once again reminded of how awkward it was to be on a Wayne scholarship while knowing the Waynes. (Sitting in their manor only made the feeling worse.)

“I hope that it works out for you. Wayne Enterprises has an aerospace division, you know.”

“I do,” Danny said. He really wished he could stop blushing over everything behind said to him. “It’s somewhere I’ve strongly though about applying too. If I want to stay in Gotham, it’s really my only chance too.”

Jason’s hand tightened around Danny’s for a moment.

Bruce seemed to catch it, of course he did. It made Danny very aware he was in a room with Batman. With lots of other Bats.

“Are you hoping to be able to?”

“Yeah. There’s…” Danny gave in an glanced at Jason. It wasn’t as if the others weren’t going to pick up on it anyways, so he might as well act honestly. “… a lot to stay around for, right now.”

“Well, I think you can at least be confident you’ll get an interview,” Bruce said with a chuckle.

It made Danny shake his head a little. “I mean, I’ll take that, but I don’t want a job unless I’m actually good for it. I get that networking is a real thing, but that should only get me in the door. If I get to work for WE, I want it to be because I worked hard, because I am working hard at this, and because I deserver the job.”

Bruce smiled. It was a slight thing, but for the first time that night Danny felt it was completely real. “That’s noble of you. Don’t worry, none of the family sits on hiring boards at that level.”

“Um, that’s good,” Danny said, realizing that he just basically told a family made from nepotism that he didn’t want to accept nepotism. He shot a desperate look to Jason.

The jerk just laughed at him.

“Don’t change,” Jason said before pressing another one of those soft kisses to Danny’s temple.

Danny was really starting to like them.

“Hey Danny, good to see you again,” Duke said as he came into the sitting room. It sounded honest coming from him. “Sorry I wasn’t down when you got here.”

“Hey Duke, homework?”

“So much homework,” he lamented.

“Yeah, the end of this semester is going to crush me,” Danny said. “I’ve got, like, three projects starting next week.”

“Good luck, dude,” Duke said, leaning over from where he had sat on the couch to fist bump Danny.

Danny looked up as someone cleared his throat to see Alfred in the doorway. “Master Tim is still missing?”

“You know how he is,” Bruce said.

“Indeed,” Alfred said, sounding like he wanted to sigh but was too proper to. “I shall fetch him in a moment. Dinner is served, sirs.”

-

“Stick a fork in me I’m done,” Danny said right before he face planted dramatically onto the couch.

“You did great,” Jason soothed, hanging up the coat that Danny had discarded mindlessly next to the door.

“Eempfatinerifatmn mone.”

“You’re going to have to stop making out with the throw pillow if you want me to understand you,” Jason said before having to duck the aforementioned throw pillow as it was thrown at his head.

“I said I just had dinner with Batman, I’m done,” Danny said as he rolled over. He blinked up at the ceiling. “Oh, we’re at your place.”

“How out of it were you on the ride?” Jason asked. He sat on the arm of the couch and brushed back some of Danny’s unruly hair.

“Dinner with Batman,” Danny reiterated seriously.

“Point taken. But really, you did great.”

Danny grumbled.

“You did. You have Damian curious about how you fight. Duke and Dick think you’re funny. You even talked shop with Tim.”

“Tim still doesn’t trust me, or Dick,” Danny pointed out.

“Tim doesn’t trust anyone,” Jason said. “And Dick likes you, he just needs time still. It was a scare for him and it hasn’t been that long. Alfred thinks you’re darling, I’m pretty sure, and Bruce smiled; real smiles.”

“I just…”

“You’re just over thinking it. Why don’t I take you to bed before you fall asleep,” Jason said. Then he realized what he had said. “That’s, I mean, just to sleep. If you’d be comfortable with that? If not I can drive you home or…”

Jason trailed off as Danny snagged his hand and kissed his knuckles gently. “Now who’s over thinking?”

Now smiling softly, Jason asked, “That a yes then?”

“As long as I can borrow a shirt to sleep in, that’s a yes.”

“You’ll be swamped,” Jason warned as he stood. He bent down and picked Danny up in one easy motion.

Danny gave a little squeak and quickly wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck. “I can live with that when I get first class service like this.”

“Lazy fish.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

-

Jason stopped in surprise as he entered his office after a meeting on Monday. “Bruce?”

“Jaylad! I thought that we would go and grab lunch.”

“I, sure,” Jason said, confused despite himself. “Just give me a moment to finish up a few notes from the meeting?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you in the lobby in… five? Ten?”

“Ten,” Jason agreed, moving around to sit at his desk.

It was only his training to focus that stopped him from being distracted by the fact that Bruce wanted to get lunch. It’s not that it never happened, just that it was rare enough to be odd. For all of the Brucie persona (though that had been toned down ever since Damian showed up), Bruce was actually very busy at the company and Jason had thrown himself into the deep end of the foundation. It was hard to find time even without the rest of their lives getting in the way. And it would be a lie to say things were never awkward between them still.

Exactly ten minutes later he was meeting Bruce in the lobby.

“I was thinking that cafe down the block, the one on Polk,” Bruce said.

“Yeah, that works, they’re pretty good,” Jason agreed. He let them get out on the street before he asked, “So is this lunch for a reason?”

“Somewhat. I wanted to talk with you about last night’s dinner.”

Jason’s heart jumped a beat.

“Danny seems a very nice person,” Bruce said. Jason braced himself for the ‘but’. “And I’m glad that you felt comfortable bringing him to the manor for dinner. It means a lot to me that we’re in a place that you’re willing to do that.”

“You don’t have concerns?” Jason said, honestly shocked at how easy Bruce, the notorious over planner, was being about this.

“Of course I have concerns, Jaylad, I’m a parent. I’m concerned how you’ll do if it doesn’t work out. I’m concerned if it does. I’m concerned for you having to deal with the press, both of you. And I won’t pretend I’m not concerned about his parents, they sound one step away from being evil scientists. It makes me concerned about what Danny had to go through growing up,” Bruce said, “but none of that stops me from being happy for you that you’ve found Danny.”

“Oh,” Jason said, at a loss for any other words. He had honestly expected to have to go over the same issues and worries that Tim had again with Bruce. Maybe Timbit briefing Bruce had really worked… or maybe Jason was still too used to expecting the worst of Bruce, even when it wasn’t fair. It was a little easier these days to see where they had both messed up. “I’m happy with him, Bruce. He… everything is just brighter since I’ve known him. And I don’t want to have to hide that from you all. I mean, I did at the start because it was all new and I was still figuring it out, but… I want you to be able to know him too. He’s important to me.”

“Well, he’s welcome over at the manor whenever, barring emergencies of course,” Bruce said, alluding to the night life. “I think Alfred is determined to feed the boy after the way Danny praised the meal last night.”

Jason chuckled and held the door to the cafe open for Bruce. “Yeah, it’s easy to feel that way about Danny.”

They were seated quickly and both spent a few minutes looking over the menu. After they had ordered, Jason fiddled with his glass of water, wiping away a trail of condensation. “Hey Dad?”

Bruce looked up right away. It was rare for Jason to ever call him ‘Dad’ these days. “Yes son?”

“I’ve been thinking about going to college?”

“Okay,” Bruce said, folding his hands and giving Jason his undivided attention. “Tell me your thoughts?”

-

“So,” Jason said as soon as Danny picked up the phone. “You can officially consider yourself to have the stamp of approval.”

“Huh?” Danny tried to pull his thoughts away from the equation he was staring at.

“Bruce cornered me for lunch. You are formally welcome at the manor any time.”

“Oh, wow, okay. That went better than I thought,” Danny said.

“I told you you did great,” Jason said.

“I guess at least not badly,” Danny said.

“Fish.”

“Fine,” Danny said with an exaggerated sigh. “I did great. I am amazing. I am the very best there ever was.”

“Damn right,” Jason said. “How has your day been?”

Danny flopped back onto the floor. “Ugh, project one is already eating my soul.”

“Anything I can do to help in these dark times?”

“Make sure I see the sky every now and again?” Danny joked. “And maybe… we can repeat last night?”

It was the best sleep Danny had gotten in a long time.

“Of course we can.” The noise on Jason’s end changed, and Danny had to assume he stepped into his building. “Speaking of the end of the semester, are you leaving Gotham for the break?”

Danny tried not to tense. “Maybe around the new years but I thought I’d just take it easy before. Sleep off the semester.”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

Yeah, there it was.

“Um, really I thought I’d just hole up and watch a bunch of really bad movies like Sharknado Five.”

“They’ve made five of those things?” Jason asked. He sounded mostly horrified and a little curious.

“Six, and three spin offs.”

“Huh. Well, I know it might be, a lot, but if you want, you can come over to the manor for Christmas?”

Danny frowned down at where he was absentmindedly picking at the seam on the couch. “I don’t… really like Christmas? The whole season sorta gets to me so I would really rather just… not.”

Here it comes. Three, two, one…

“Okay.”

What?

“What?”

“Okay,” Jason said simply. “Can I give you your present for, I don’t know, Solstice instead? Just since I already have it.”

Danny couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face if he tried. Jason didn’t mind. He wasn’t pushing or bullying or guilt tripping about it. It was just… okay. “Yeah, Solstice sounds perfect.”

“Good. And I’ll make you something to stick in the oven for food.”

“You don’t have to,” Danny said, even as the very thought warmed him.

“I want to. Also it might butter you up to say yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“Going with me as my plus one to the Wayne New Years Eve Gala.”

“A gala?”

“Just, the press already knows about you. It might be weird if you don’t come? And I… it would be nice to have you there.” The nerves were clear in Jason’s voice.

Danny really couldn’t say no to that, could he? Besides, he could visit Jazz after New Years still. “Okay, but you have to make sure I look alright.”

“Done. You’ll be the prettiest orca there.”

Danny covered up a snort of laughter. “Isn’t it supposed to be penguin suits for tuxes? Besides, orcas aren’t even fish, they’re really big murder dolphins.”

“I could put you in a gold suit, then you’d be my goldfish.”

“Jason, no,” Danny said, trying hard not to keep from laughing.

“You’d be the talk of Gotham.”

“You mean the laughing stock.”

“I wouldn’t let them, not about my fish,” Jason said. “Can we bargain for blue? It would match your eyes.”

“Maybe, we’ll see,” Danny said. “I’ll be watching for you adding in fish references.”

“I would never!”

“You’re a liar.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

-----

AN: Danny has survived meeting the family! He is very sleepy, but he survived! Sorry for the people waiting for a pissed off Bruce, but that's not my Batman ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tim's research and questioning last week did its job to let Bruce feel prepared and Bruce really does want his children happy.

And a gala on the horizon for the next part! How exciting!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost!

[ranticore]

bugs big ones from Thera! the transcript for the top image is under the cut below.

There is a big lie in this which is that the caterpillar pictured in the top image is in fact Nettlerove who is a beetle of the species Cryptostenus oculatus. But he is a brood parasite of these caterpillars, and appears almost identical to one prior to pupation. They emerge as imagos earlier than the true butterflies around them, and then eat their defenceless colonymates. Life's rough for insects. i really wanted to draw baby (and young adult) Nettlerove sooo much so that's why it's him.

The Tithe tree is one of the reasons our bugs are so big. These trees are gigantic and their leaves are incredibly nutrient rich, and their huge hollow trunks are perfect for building colonies in. The social behaviour of these caterpillars is based off of Eriogaster lanestris, a moth which has eusocial silk-tent-spinning caterpillars :) Their true 'child' stage (instars 1 and 2) lasts a single spring and summer, while the subsequent instar stages last several years each. At pupation the individual can be up to 14 years old. The kids are basically left in their tent entirely unsupervised, and in fact it's an intentional strategy to have them on a lower branch than the main colony; any terrestrial predator looking for food will hopefully eat the kids first and leave the main colony alone (Life's ROUGH for insects!!).

Because the caterpillars are considered adults post instar 3, the winged form is not called "the adult" it's just the imago.

[Transcript: Neonymphalid Caterpillars

The life cycle of the eusocial caterpillars from the Theran butterfly family Neonymphalidae. At hatching they are roughly 13cm long, and at their largest they grow to be approx. 2m long.

They are considered to be adults at instar stage III. At this stage they enter the mature colony and begin to train into their life-long 'careers'. At instar stage IV they are close to pupating, and will make the trek out to their proving grounds for the final growth spurt as caterpillars. The quest is a difficult overland trek, often the first time any individual has touched the ground, and at its end is a forest that they must set ablaze to liberate the nutrient-rich fruit they need to eat. Eggs are deposited on a lower branch of the Tithe tree beneath the adult colony

Instar stage I: They hatch among peers and immediately form a juvenile colony on their host Tithe branch, a group of up to 100. Together they encase the branch and its leaves in a silken tent. At this stage they do not speak, they only eat.

Instar stage II: They begin to grow their distinguishing bristles but remain in their juvenile colony

Instar stage III: Not all caterpillars will reach this stage, as autumn draws in and the leaves become less numerous. Caterpillars who reach stage III will leave their silk tent and travel up the main trunk of the Tithe tree, entering the large, permanent structure of the adult colony. They now have a pair of more specialised binocular eyes.

Instar IV: They have begun to develop some of their adult facial features, including more complex eyes. This individual is a scribe, using a thorn to write on a wax slate in a frame.

Prior to their journey to the burning forest, a final molt occurs which increases the number of bristles. This will protect them from aerial attacks during the rough journey.

The pupa is laid out in a specialist chamber within the main colony once the caterpillars return home. They hatch when temperatures reach a summer range again.]

[peachesofteal]

Fae!Price/female reader This is a little piece of Long and Lost from this world.

Inside the pub on main, there is a girl. 

She’s a normal girl, to most, perfectly ordinary in nearly every way. She works her job, sees her coworkers, visits the darkly lit bar for a pint every now and then. Within the throngs of people drinking and eating and laughing, she appears like any other. Dark eyes watching the television with mild interest, glancing across other people’s faces politely. A brown coat, dusky orange scarf, a pair of blue jeans. Black leather boots that are scuffed at the toe. She orders a beer, keeps to herself, and minds her manners. She blends in so seamlessly, you’d never take a second look her way if you were in this bar, drinking with your friends, having a laugh. 

The only thing that could possibly distinguish her, is the black ribbed turtleneck. The bartender has never seen in her any other shirt, even in the summer. He assumes it’s because she’s a creature of comfort who likes what she likes, the type who enjoys a staple piece. It’s how he thinks of her, whenever she settles herself at his bar. The turtleneck girl.

He doesn’t know the turtleneck hides the most unique thing anyone in this town would ever see. He doesn’t know that the skin beneath her jaw glows with a sea glass green mark, one that calls to a world beyond a veil, that shines like a lighthouse guiding its lover home through treacherous seas. A mark unique in its shape, size and power, unlike any of this realm, or any realm, save for one.

It’s nearly midnight when they arrive. 

Almost everyone has gone home for the evening, and only the bartender, the turtleneck girl, and the old man linger. 

When the bell chimes, they all glance at the newcomers, and only the girl does not say hello. She does not say anything in fact, choosing to look immediately down into her half empty pint, turning the options over in her mind. The bartender welcomes them, directs them to choose a place a sit, wherever they like, hospitality their kind does not deserve, a truth no one here could know, except for her. The back door is so, so close to where she’s perched, and she could make it, if she ran. If she flew, she could be outside the pub and over the rooftops in seconds, leaving this town to the ash, to the destruction that the 141 will surely wring from its bones, as they do most places, in most realms. 

A trace of power slithers across her skin. It’s a probe, an inquiry of some kind, scratching at the shell surrounding her magic, tapping against the ethereal light that sits trapped inside her chest. Her muscles tense, thighs shaking with the effort to hold still, hold her breathe, hold herself at bay. She wants to explode, wants to Shine inside this pub and shred the Fae hunters to pieces, wipe them from this plane of existence and send them back to their own. 

They’re war addicted, hungry beasts. They don’t belong here. 

But they’re not the only monsters in this room. 

She shoves the power away, shoves it as hard as she can, a pulsing shockwave that rattles the foundation, and leaps from her stool, sprinting out the back door, run, run, run-

She makes it as far as the alley before she feels the Prince’s sun kissed whip around her throat, jerking her backwards like an animal, restraints wrapping around wrists and legs, forcing her to her knees. 

Maybe if she begs, if she cries, they’ll let her go. They’ll spare her. 

“It’s not me.” She croaks, flexing against the sun searing rope that stays taut around her neck. “You’ve made a mistake. Release me.” 

“I don’t think so.” The Prince croons, smiling in a sick, sadistic way that turns her stomach. She rails against the binding, straining with everything inside of her, urging her power up through her pores, wings screaming beneath the sinew at her back. Shine, they cry. Shine and blow them all back to Faerie.

It’s no use. She’s no match for a single Fae in this world, let alone four of the most powerful, not with how weak she’s grown. 

The Captain settles himself on the pavement, bending at the knees, still straight backed and proud, blue eyes meeting her head on. He’s not afraid, does not tremble, does not falter before her like the others who have tried to collect their bounty have. 

“Fuck you.” She sniffs, turning her face away. The other three loom in the background, unmistakable now that they’ve dropped their Glamour. 

The Ghost.

The Chaos.

The Prince.

The 141, in the flesh. 

The Captain rises to his full height, motioning for the Ghost, some sort of magical bond sizzling through the air, communication that burns in the breeze on this cold winter’s night. “You’re in a lot of trouble, little angel. And so far from home, too.” He cocks his head, arms crossed across his chest, and she snarls, snapping her teeth.

“Keep your cretinous fucking hands off me.” She spits, and John Price only smiles, cupping her jaw in a wide, warm palm. 

“No.” 

[wsdalt]

i rewatched the felps prison stream and here's some fun facts that people who didn't watch his stream might not have known:

-the stream starts in media res with the saint music playing and him silent

-there's no facecam or chat on screen (a stylistic choice for qsmp specifically because i'm pretty sure he streams again after the priosn event is over and he has both)

-he was very shocked about the fact he's been asleep for months

-he has difficultly distinguishing dreams from reality/real memories he has, and often throughout the stream isn't sure if he's actually awake

-he calls himself a saint a lot but when empanada asks if he's god he says he's not actually sure what he is. later he also admits he's not sure what his powers are exactly

-the saint music emanates from him without him necessarily choosing for it to--as seen when he was playing hide and seek, and it kept playing even though he was trying to tell it to stop (ooc i think this was just felps trying to be found while still roleplaying, but in-universe this appears to be canon)

-sometimes before he blesses people the saint music plays and he stares silently at whoever he's about to bless for a few moments before blessing them. this isn't the only way he can bless people though--it can also be more casual

-is constantly trying to be taken to the heavens as a way of escaping prison

-vaguely mentions his death during fuga again! During the scene he's been taken to the interview room and is told to wait: "i think i will die. again." (i believe the fuga death is the one he's talking about because most qsmp deaths aren't significant for players and he's mentioned cellbit killing him in prison twice beforehand while on qsmp. but as i said, it's vague)

-his response to the question "if you disappeared for a few days where would you go?" was "I think, um… I went to an experiment? In an ice block? (suddenly intense) That's what happened to me before! So, I don't know if it would happen again! (calm again) So, I don't know, I don't know… Maybe to heaven?"

-loves pasta

there might be more fun facts but this is all i can think of right now \o/