#if you're still struggling once i'm off my secondment reach out and i may be able to plot-jam with you if you wanted as well!!

[38riku]

𝐁𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐓.𝟐 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🎂 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

includes ace and deuce (i was gonna add more but i hate it when i have a lot of drafts) this is part two. you can read part one here

warnings // none.

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀

Hey, Prefect, guess what day it is. I'll have you know it isn't an unbirthday—it's MY birthday! Which means I'm the star of the day. Wonder what kinda fun things are in store.

to his surprise the two of you had a similar idea of fun. in hindsight it isn't that much of a shock. you guys are together 24/7! as a group, not one on one like now.

there's really nothing different about it.

sure, it's nice having your undivided attention without a pesky feline hogging it. plus he can actually hear your laugh when he jokes. was it always like that? a funky yet endearing sound? probably.

he's starting to notice things that he should've a long time ago and it makes him feel weird.

you're thoughtful, to the point it makes him wanna gag.

"this place better be good. it's my birthday after all so i'm head honcho!" he exclaimed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the booth you shared.

"cater recommended it. i asked him what place in town had the best burgers and viola." you were too busy looking over the menu to see his face, and thank the seven you were, otherwise, you would've notice him gaping like a fish.

"oh! and they serve cherry pie! you think it's as good as — what's wrong with your face?"

jaw on the floor.

he was positive he only mentioned his favorite foods once or twice, yet, you remembered it.

and for a second time, he brushed off the odd feeling bubbling in his chest.

the last time was hard to ignore. you sprung a gift on him last minute before entering campus. it was, ironically, a deck of cards.

"learn a new trick other than a basic sleight." you joked, nudging him slightly. "oh! and don't let riddle see these. all the aces are an ace of hearts." winking, you bid him one more 'happy birthday' before leaving.

they were just a deck of trick cards. it wasn't anything special.

so why was his heart racing?

𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐄

Do you have plans later? Actually, no, I should get straight to the point. We're celebrating my birthday at Heartslabyul today. Would you come to the party?

he did it! he asked you, personally.

it may not seem like a big deal but riddle threatened to off his head if he didn't stop pacing. apparently it's against the rules to have inner turmoil on your birthday.

ace asked him why he was nervous. 'it's the prefect, we hang out all the time!' and yes, why that might be true, deuce had never invited done something like that.

delinquents don't have many friends. let alone birthday parties.

"happy birthday deuce-y!" the nickname ricocheted off the walls as you successfully stole the spotlight. "sorry i'm late but riddle said i had to be properly dressed or whatever."

your rant went in one ear and out the other.

he's never seen you dressed up and wow, you cleaned up nicely.

was it shock? freezing up, cheeks flush, trouble speaking, sweaty palms — his symptoms all align with shock. that has to be it.

"thanks for still showing up." he spoke after regaining basic functions. it didn't last long because you hugged him. arms around torso, face to face, lasting more than three seconds hug.

friends hug all the time. he's shared a similar embrace with ace, albeit riddle forced them to, but this is was not like that.

"course I showed up! fancy clothes wasn't gonna stop me from celebrating one of my best friends." your smile reach ear to ear and he struggled to remember if it was always that bright and pretty.

"we both know you're more tenacious than that."

deuce now understands why he was nervous.

© 2024 — 38riku. Do not copy or repost or plagiarize my work. All Rights Reserved.

[hazelvrr]

Punished

Pairing: Hazel callahan x fem reader

Summary: You beat Hazel at practice, which she doesn't like, and then things get heated in the showers

Contains: fighting, smut- stripping, scissoring, strap on, top!hazel

Word count: 2.7k

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As hazel slams you into the ground and climbs ontop of you, you imagine what it would feel like to have her ontop of you for a different reason. The way she straddled you as she pinned you down made your heart race and your head spin out of control; although you didn't want to admit it, you could feel your pussy begin to throb, getting wetter by the second as she's pushing her body down onto you to keep you on the ground, her face getting awfully close to your neck. The sound of her heavy panting didn't help, all you could think of is what she would sound like if those weren't sounds of struggling but sounds of pleasure, writhing under your touch.

Unfortunately for you, you had decided to put on a thin pair of linen shorts this morning, and so it became very obvious what was happening when they started to become see-through from your arousal. You could feel it as your pussy soaked through your panties and you knew you had to do something, so before she punches you in the nose, you quickly grab her arms and flip her over, holding her to the ground face down with her arms in the air as your sitting ontop of her.

"1..2..3! Winner," pj says and you stand up as everyone claps. You look over at hazel who is standing up and brushing herself off. She looks over at you with an intense stare, almost piercing your skin with her deep sapphire eyes. You look back at her, still breathing heavily from the exercise and she reaches her arm out. You look down at her hand and reach to shake it, the cold sensation of her rings touching your palm as she shakes your hand vigorously, not taking her eyes away from you once. The handshake seems to go on for just a few seconds too long before the bell rings and everyone is packing up to leave. You are in a trance staring at her and only realise what is happening when you feel her large calloused hand attempt slide off yours as you loosen your grip.

You decide to head to the showers after that and you start washing your hair. You're rinsing the shampoo out of your hair when all of a sudden you're being slammed against the wall, hands against your shoulders. It takes you a minute to see because of the suds in your eyes but once your vision clears, you recognise that its hazel holding you against the wall, "what the hell are you-" you say but before you can finish hazel gets up close to your neck and say "i didn't like that stunt you pulled out there, embarrassing me like that, oh and by the way, nobody else may have noticed but I could feel you dripping through your shorts, you thought you would be able to get away with that and nobody would notice?"

"Hazel I'm so-" you reply, feeling extremely embarrassed, "I guess we will just have to finish what we started later tonight" She interrupts in a cocky tone, still holding you up against the wall. You look her up and down realising for the first time since she basically attacked you in the showers that you were naked. You were both naked, pressed up against eachother. You look at her standing there, taking her in as she watches you squirm. Thank god for the running shower because a tear dripped down your leg and you don't know what would have happened next if she had seen that.

"So tonight, my place, 8 o clock, got it?" She says firmly, looking you up and down once more before backing away and walking back over to her shower, leaning over, giving you a full view of her ass as she picks up her shampoo bottle and conditioner and walks out into the changing room.

You're still standing there, frozen, from the shock of hazel speaking to you like that, you barely even knew eachother and now you were going to her house tonight? You had always had a thing for her but she never seemed to notice you until now,so you definitely weren't complaining.

You spent the rest of the day thinking about your plans with hazel, wondering what she was going to do to you, imagining hundreds of scenarios. You started to get ready, putting on makeup, curling your hair and putting on a nice dress and by the time you were ready it was nearly 8 and you were going to be late.

You arrive at her house at 8.05 and ring the doorbell, she answers almost straight away and stares at you, looking at your dress for way too long. "Um im freezing my ass of out here can i come in?" You say shivering. She snaps out of it and moves out of the way, letting you in, "you look great, it's really a shame though," She said grinning. "Why? What's wrong with it?" Yoj ask confused. "I'm about to ruin it all," and before you can say anything she wraps her arms around your hips, lifting you up as you wrap your legs round her as she kisses you aggressively. "What about your mom?" you ask concerned, pulling away. "She's not here, on a trip with this random guy she met called Steve or Mark or something," She shrugs, "so are you going to stop talking or am I going to have to make you stop talking?"

Okay now you were dripping. You just nod to her as she carry you up the stairs and into her room slamming you down on the bed and crawling ontop of you, "now, do you remember why you're here?" She asks you looking down at the hem of your dress and running her finger along the bottom. "Because you asked me to?" You reply looking down at her finger starting to breathe heavier. "No. Because you embarrassed me and now you need to be taught a lesson," She says slowly beginning to touch your thighs. "Oh yeah? We'll see about that," you say as you pull her hand away and flip her onto her back, pinning her hands behind her head, straddling her.

You don't know what came over you but you were there holding her hands above her head with one hand and with the other you reach up your dress, pull your panties to the side and began to play with yourself, forcing her to do nothing but watch. You began by gently circling your clit. with your index finger, and then inserting a finger inside, sighing at the sensation. You felt her breaths quicken as you begin to make circles with your finger, throwing your head back and whimpering, you're slipping another finger in your pussy and curling them, feeling your walls clench around your fingers and push your juice out. Your poor whimpers soon turn into loud moans as the wet slapping sound fills the room.

You open your eyes to see what hazel is doing because she's suspiciously quiet and when you look at her, she's almost sobbing with her eyes closed. "What's the matter hmm? I thought you were going to teach me a lesson, all I've learnt is how wet I make you," you say as you run your fingers along her trousers, showing her the wetness that had completely soaked through. She whimpered looking away so you grab her by the chin and make her look at you. You continue to pump your fingers in and out of your pussy until you began to feel a familiar warmth growing in your stomach and then your whole body began to shake, you throw your head back once more, giving in to your orgasm and you moan hazels name as you reach your climax whilst sitting on hazel as you made her watch as her pussy ached.

You climb off her and lay down next to her trying to slow your breaths down after. Hazel took advantage of this and quickly climbed back on top of you, "guess fight club comes in handy sometimes," She smirks as her eyes light up, "my turn."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask, scared of the answer you were about to receive, but instead the only answer you got was, "strip." You look back up at her, "what?" You ask, she replies in a serious tone, "you heard me." That sentence sent a shiver down your spine as you began stripping, removing your dress and hazel snatches it off you and throws it into the corner of the room, "hey that's my favorite dress," you tell her, annoyed that she had just thrown it. "Shut the fuck up and strip," She said, completely unsympathetic.

You listen and remove your blue lace panties you had put on to match the dress, to seem put together for hazel, although you don't think hazel noticed at all, she was too focused on when she was getting to fuck you. Finally you remove your bra and drop it on the floor and look to hazel, who had just unzipped her jeans, pulled them off and removed her boxers.

"What are you doin-" before you could finish hazel pushes your back down on the bed so you're laying flat, completely naked. "After that little game you tried to play, you deserve a punishment, im going to ride your tits and use you as my toy and when I cum all over your tits, you are going to apologise for embarrassing me and tell me how much you need me."

You begin dripping on the bed sheets but don't even notice because hazel has just climbed ontop of you and rested her clit over your tit. She waited a second to make sure she was in the right spot teasing her own clit with your nipple and then began to grind downwards, using your hard nipple to get herself off. You watch as her hips move up and down right infront of your face, reaching out to wrap your arms around them. You slide your hands round to her ass and squeeze, "naughty girl, did I say you could do that?" She asks in a breathy moan as she is dripping in arousal on your chest. She grabs your hands and moves them towards her tits, signaling for you to play with them. You grab them and start moving them round in circles, watching hazels face as she is getting closer to her climax. You take her tit in your mouth, licking in circles round her nipple and sucking it gently, this brings hazel over the edge as she yells, "im gonna cum, im gonna" and spills out all over your tits, still moving up and down chasing her orgasm.

Her breathing slows and she shuffles backwards leaning her face down to your stomach, making eye contact as she licks you, cleaning you up, tasting her own juices on her tounge. She continues licking further up, licking around your nipples in circles, making you sigh as she makes her way up to your neck and starts marking you. "This is so everyone will know what a naughty little slut you are," She whispers into your ear, nibbling on it softly. She starts kissing you passionately and you can taste her cum on your tongue, "mmm you taste so sweet hazel," you moan into her mouth as she pushes her body further into you, searching for friction.

You move towards her and turn so that both of your pussys are touching and then you both begin to rub your clits together, at first it feels weird but once you find a rhythm, it's all pleasure. Both of you have your eyes squeezed shut from the sensation as it becomes easier to grind because you're both dripping wet now. You start to feel a trembling feeling in your thighs, as your whole legs begin to twitch, so hazel puts a slight amount more pressure which sends you over the edge cumming all over hazels pussy as you moan her name, your cum spilling over hazels clit brings her to her climax, as she cums all over you, the both of you still grinding at a slow pace until you have both finished.

You both lay down for a moment looking at eachother in awe of one another, "that felt so good," you say to her, still slightly out of breath. "Look at the absolute mess we've made of my sheets, such a good girl," her words swirling round inside you, turning you on even more if that was even possible.

Hazel takes a deep breath and gets up from the bed, crouching down to reach under her bed, you get a good view of her tits bounce as she does this and you lick your lips. She pulls out a box, opens it up and inside is a blue 6 inch strap on and it's belt. You look at her, shocked, "you just have one of those lying around?" You ask. "Nope bought it especially for you for tonight," she replies, "what do you think?" You look at it, your mouth watering imagining what she could do to you in that. "I like it. I like it a lot." You quickly say, almost too quickly. "Don't be so eager, don't you worry, I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to walk tomorrow, nevermind beat me in a fight," She says, looking very pleased with herself, "now, be a good little slut and bend over."

You quickly stand up and lean forward so that your entrance is accessible from behind. "Now spread those legs for me and we will see just how much you need me," hazel says as she is strapping the blue strap to her. She lines it up with your entrance and circles it round, coating her strap in your arousal. She continues to rub around your clit but not going in. "Stop teasing hazel," you say annoyed as your pussy throbs in anticipation. "Tell me how much you want me, how much you need me and maybe I will consider it, she replies with a menacing grin on her face," you turn to look over your shoulder but she pushes you back to face towards the door. "Hazel please, I'm begging you, I need you," you say desperately.

Apparently that worked because 5 seconds later she was wrapping her hands around your hips and sliding into your entrance. You moan at the sudden sensation feeling it pump so far inside you. "I can't quite hear you, I'm gonna need you to moan as loud as you can for me," hazel moans into my neck before slamming into me once again, making me moan even louder. She continues to buck into me with her strap, stretching out my pussy as my walls tighten around her, getting closer to cumming.

Just as you were getting close, she stops her movements, "what are you doing I was so close," you try to say to her but it comes out more like this "what mm u I so close." She turns you back around, without removing herself from you and places you on the bed as she straddles you. She spreads your legs even further then starts to buck into you again, able to hit even further in this new position. She reaches your g spot and tries to move her strap round your pussy in a circle, "Wow you're so tight, such a pretty pussy," She says to you in admiration watching your whole body shut down, trembling then slowing down, then you release yourself all over her cock. She pulls it out allowing more of your juice to spill out all over the bed.

You look at her and move over to the strap, beginning to suck it, collecting every last drop of your juices before she removes the strap, flinging it on the floor from being so tired. You both lay down together, eyes meeting and kiss, tasting eachother on your tongues then lay there cuddling until you both fall asleep in the mess you made.

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@iloverubycruzz on wattpad

@hazelcallahansgirlfriend on a03

@sltfr on tiktok

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Thank you @infernally-fond for the idea, this was super fun to write!

Read on AO3

-

As naive, foolish, and ludicrous (read: dangerous) as it may be, it's easy for Tav to forget that Raphael is a creature of evil, born from the Hells; ancient in comparison to anything or anyone she's ever known. He's good at pretending to be human, his facade so carefully crafted like the glow of an anglerfish's lure in the abyss. Come closer, it beckons, let down your guard.

She forgets he is a predator, and she is prey.

She forgets he is a monster.

When the bell rings through the House of Hope, it's dinner time. Tav makes her way to the dining area. Something doesn't feel right. The fireplace roars cosy as usual. Debtors fill their seats. Yet the table is empty. Raphael sits at its head, in front of the fire, his hands steepled. He smiles at her. His soft brown irises look black in the shadows that play across his handsome face. Flickering shadows that warp and stretch into grotesque shapes.

"There you are," he purrs. "We've been waiting. We couldn't eat until you arrived, and we are ever so hungry."

"Sorry, I..." Tav trails off. There's nowhere for her to sit. Every chair is taken.

"Is something the matter, dear?"

All of the debtors stare at her in silence. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rise. The room feels like it's slowly shrinking. The air is thick and hard to breathe. Her instincts shriek and holler. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!

"Actually, you know, I think I'm not hungry," Tav stutters. "I'll just. I'll go back to my room..."

She tries to leave. The doors close on their own before she even reaches them. She whips around to look at Raphael. Confused. Horrified. He's amused. Gleeful, almost.

Ravenous.

"I think you'll stay right here," he declares. He's still smiling. "You're the main course, after all."

Tav gets but a split second to comprehend those final six words. The devil clicks his fingers and she's on the table, on her back, naked and spread out like a choice cut. There are no chains, but she can't move. Can't struggle. Can't escape.

"No! Please!" She begs, eyes wide. "Please, stop! Let me go!"

She looks to the debtors, tries to implore them for help. For anything. They start laughing. All of them, like a murder of crows, and as they laugh, their skins slough away from their bones. Their eyes melt in their skulls. Their teeth shatter. Their tongues swell and burst and still they laugh.

Silly little girl.

Raphael looms over her. Wicked horns jut from his forehead. Eyes reptilian and yellow. His lips pull over glistening fangs. Red bleeds into his tawny skin. His hands burn as he drags them across her bare flesh. Long fingers end in sharp black claws that leave bloody welts in their wake.

"So beautiful," he croons, catching her tears on his fingertips. He puts them in his mouth, sucks them clean. "So delicious."

"Raphael, please," Tav sobs. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The Devil cups her cheek. He strokes it tenderly with his thumb. His other hand makes a cage above her heart. Five knife points pushing into her skin. "Because you let me."

Tav screams as he pulls out her heart. Effortlessly breaking through flesh and muscle and bone. He rips his prize free with brutal precision and holds it up, shows it to her as it keeps beating, dripping blood and tissue, swallowed by his huge palm. By his will, she realises, she isn't dead. He truly intends to eat her alive.

"Remember, little mouse," he says as she gapes in shock. He squeezes her poor heart, and he just keeps smiling. "This is mine."

Tav jerks awake. An aborted scream still in her aching lungs, thick in her throat. Body damp with cold sweat.

Just a nightmare. Vivid, but imaginary. She'll feel alright in a minute, when she's calmed down. Those familiar yellow eyes she can see glowing in the dark will disappear once she's properly awake. Only, she keeps blinking and they don't go away. In fact, they even blink back. As her eyes adjust she can make out the silhouette of someone sitting at the end of her bed. She inhales, sharp and stagnant, scrambling to light the lantern on her bedside table.

It's Raphael. Perched like a gargoyle. Human, though, eyes brown as if they always have been.

"Apologies," he coos, sounding anything but sorry. "Did I scare you?"

"Wasn't expecting to see you, is all," Tav mumbles. The nightmare has unsettled her. Raphael's presence, the idea that he's been watching her sleep, is setting her nerves on edge, but she won't tell him. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," he promises. Could be the truth. For some reason, Tav doubts it. "I thought I sensed distress, so I came to check on you."

"I'm fine. Just...a bad dream."

"Ah, we all have those from time to time." Tav briefly wonders what a devil's nightmare looks like. Decides she'd rather not know. Something about his tone is faintly suspicious. "Perhaps you'd feel better if I stayed here with you until morning, hm?"

"That's - you don't have to. I'm sure you've got better things to do..."

"Nonsense." The devil is already undoing his cufflinks. Tav watches helplessly as he shrugs out of his coat and boots. At the end of the day, he will do what he pleases. "Scoot over, won't you, pet?"

Tav reluctantly makes space. Raphael settles his hard, warm body up against hers, strong arms circling her waist, one heavy leg thrown over both of hers. Holding her down like she'd been pinned in the dream. It doesn't mean anything. One of his hands absently comes to rest over her pounding heart. Coincidence, surely. He presses his face into the crook of her neck and Tav can feel him smile.

"Go back to sleep, little mouse," he whispers into her ear. "You'll have sweet dreams this time, I promise."

Tav stays awake for the rest of the night.

[azaracyy]

to the next stage of our adventure! digimon survive week 2024 day 7: post-game / future personal thoughts under the cut - less about the artwork and more about shuuji and lopmon themselves. a long rambling containing major spoilers and heavy topics. will cause whiplash. proceed with caution.

other than the fact this may be boring and long-winded, cw and tw: there will be mentions of self-harm and suicide. if these topics make you uncomfortable, please step back. if you're sure, then alright. i'm aware this is a weird place to ramble about shuuji and lopmon considering the notorious highlight of their story would match the themes of day 5 (villains) and day 6 (dark & loss) better. unfortunately (ironically?) i never planned to feature them for those days, so... pretty sure i'm not the only one feeling this, but when i discovered that a good part of the fandom seems to loathe shuuji with utmost passion, even after they claimed to have completed the game, i was confused. the way his death happened and (understanding) the cause made me uncomfortable for a while, but never drove me to the point of hate... once i recovered from the initial shock, what i felt towards him was more pity, then respect (on truthful route). i feel shuuji should have been one of the most appreciated characters in survive. yet it was the opposite that happened. (between you and me though, knowing there was this discourse with the fact digimon survive is a visual novel, i'm not that surprised it turned out this way...) from my point of view, lopmon evolving into wendimon then killing shuuji symbolizes suicide, the act of taking one's own life. it was the climax of shuuji's mental breakdown, leading him to basically self-destruct, causing damage to everyone around him and ultimately himself. lopmon evolved, just like he hoped. but failed to do it like other kemonogami partners (maintaining control of themselves and fending off enemies). the next and final outcome was death, through his own partner actually eating him alive too. it reminds me how when someone thought they have prepared well for something important yet it failed spectacularly, the devastation and frustration would eat them in the same way from inside. and they probably would for one second think, "i'm better off dead". the more i pondered about it, the more it hit home, so of course, the last thing i could do is hate him, when his struggles sound similar to my own - having to rely on consistent achievements to prove your value, to feel you are worth living and not a waste of resources. the part where shuuji went all abusive on lopmon felt like the equivalent of pushing yourself to the extreme to reach your goal, to the point of neglecting your own needs. it's like a student so absorbed in their study, sacrificing food and sleep, until their body eventually snaps and shuts down for good (...this in fact happened to one of the students at my previous workplace. she was in her last year of high school. life was just about to truly start for her when her classmate informed us of her sudden death). even in truthful route where shuuji and lopmon survive that point, things aren't immediately nice and easy for him. you can see that he still has self-doubts, and what i think is impostor's syndrome. he could be making a great contribution to the team and still put himself down for having done "nothing". i have found it interesting that artists and writers tend to be especially fond of shuuji. so perhaps it's not just the matter of one's upbringing - whether you were raised in a harsh, competitive environment and/or with family with (unreasonably) high standards so you can relate more easily to him - but also whether one can see just what every struggle shuuji and lopmon went through symbolizes shuuji's mental state. out of all survive characters, i think shuuji and lopmon pulled off this thing called "surviving" the hardest, no joke. which is why i almost always gravitate to drawing them happy because that's what they deserve :') after all this, what i also would like to say is, it's okay if a character makes you uncomfortable. it's okay if you hate a character. but never, ever bring down the character to people who like them or even consider them their favorite or comfort character. if you must, do it in your own space and only with like-minded people.

[damianbugs]

Hi!! First I just wanted to say your fics have been an inspo for me to write my own fics and I enjoy them immensely. Second, I’ve been wandering something and I want to ask something about how Jason Todd is portrayed after his death.

I don’t really understand why so many just kind of lie? Or exasperate who Jason Todd is and isn’t. Like the Cass and Bruce scene in front of Jason’s grave, or that scene in Gotham Knights where Alfred tells Bruce “Jason was determined to disobey him.” I know out of universe it just has to do with the mischaracterization of Jason but I’m having a hard time on finding an in universe explanation. Is it out of guilt? Out of misplaced love? It’s confusing me a bit

first of all, thank you!! i'm so glad i could inspire you that is truly the highest complement i could receive <3

secondly, this is a really interesting discussion! you're right about how in a meta way it's the deeply routed classism in jasons writing, as well as many writers (example: grant morrison) just really hating jason for some reason and doing everything they can to make him absolutely insufferable. not even in a cool evil villain way, but in an embarrassment point and laugh kind of way.

for the purpose of this discussion lets (with much difficulty) ignore the writers predispositions and implications and just focus entirely on what this means for the characters. it's good you mention the cass and bruce at jason's grave scene, because i think that example alone is a good way to deconstruct some of character's (for this post: bruce's) perspective of jason's death.

to summarise before dumping a billion paragraphs developing the point; let's not dance around it and accept that much of people's understanding of jason's death falls into the victim blaming variety, but in such way that the characters don't seem to realise that's how they perceive him, which is almost worse than them purposely retelling it in such a way. as well as that, aside from this indenial misunderstanding of jason, i think this shows the sort of flaws the other characters have.

Detective Comics #790

at first glance this seems like a really touching and emotional moment where bruce is sharing his grief with cass (especially when the entirety of #790 is about bruce struggling to do just that), but then you really read it and you're like what the fuck... why are we standing in front of this kids grave slagging him off? not only are we hearing all of bruce's regrets about how he raised jason as opposed to his son's actual death, but we are dragging steph into this too.

to bruce, jason's death is an accumulation of everything he let the boy get away with finally reaching it's tipping point. that jason's ambition to "prove something" lead to his seemingly inevitable demise.

now i do think it's important to note that WE (the readers) know jason died saving sheila. that despite being beaten, betrayed and left for dead, he tried to save someone and paid the price for it. no one else knows that, because the two people that did are dead. as a result, bruce is left with the facts that;

prior to his death, jason was acting uncharacteristically (<- important point) violent and aggressive towards himself, borderline passively suicidal. bruce himself acknowledges this.

that jason ran away from home in search of someone who may or may not be his mother. this is because losing his parents is a hurt jason has still not healed from and a topic bruce has handled badly in the past (example: willis todd). jason does not trust bruce enough to tell him about this.

once they find his mother, jason is instructed to not get involved in the joker related problem. to the extent of bruces knowledge, jason reveals himself as robin, and decides to get involved despite the instruction not to. either because he again, didn't trust bruce to believe he would handle it, or that jason was trying to prove something to bruce, to sheila, or to himself.

sheila dies, jason dies and bruce is the only one alive from the tragedy with only half the story.

All of this can be found in A Death In The Family, but I don't feel comfortable sharing panels of it given where the story takes place right now.

bruce spends the next few years blaming himself at any given point, but the blame is misplaced. bruce feels as though HIS negligence of JASON'S personality and HIS allowance of JASON'S freedom as robin is what allowed JASON to go and die. instead of seeing what he knows to be true about jason (his empathy, his kindness, his grief and loneliness) bruce can now only see how his allowance of all these things played a part in JASON disobeying him (whether maliciously or not) and dying.

in short, bruce is projecting big time onto his dead kid.

bruce is, as per usual, coping with loss by antagonising it. he did the same with babs, with steph and later on with damian. for a character like batman, who upon failing immediately turns these losses into lessons (for himself and all those forced to comply), it's the only way he seems to 'move on'. if he can understand that jason died because of all the things bruce let him do wrong, then he can convince himself that the guilt he feels for it is necessary. that jasons death is on him and that it mattered.

unfortunately, in order to do that, bruce is indenial about what he LITERALLY KNOWS ABOUT JASON! it's not like he was an absent father to jason in the slightest. but hey, if he can vitiate jason's enthusiasm to help people as jason's impulsiveness to fight (two things that can be true but not in accordance to the context he describes them in), then the blame is on jason for being brash, and on bruce for being lenient.

he shoots jason in the foot and himself in the knee to keep them both down. because, well, jason's dead anyway, and bruce unfortunately isn't. this is the closest thing they'll get to sharing the truth bruce knows he's missing and he knows it's his fault for favouring the mission of his son — so at the expense of jason, bruce lets them both be the lesson to learn from.

it is why jason is used as a cautionary tale, and why bruce is so unstable on allowing people (especially children) into his life emotionally. the second robin is a lesson for any young vigilante eager to join the mission, and batman's part in the death is a lesson for bruce wayne to... be even more emotionally untrustworthy? instructions unclear.

the final part of the grave scene is also important, because bruce is admitting that he is not so different to jason. that "for some of us [Bruce and Cass] there is no turning back". he is projecting these flaws about jason not only because that's the only way he can cope with jason's death, but he is projecting these flaws because regardless of what actually happened, he (and cass) are destined to meet the same fate. jason died for a multitude of reason that bruce may or may not have caused knowingly, and these reasons only exist because bruce knows them to be true in himself and anyone else damaged enough to find themselves on his side of the blurry line.

so, now looking a bit less zoomed in, i think it's unfortunate that jason's time as robin is often perversed by the people who should know better (bruce & alfred), and while it is bad writing on jason's character, it is great writing to show the flaws in the characters around him.

especially how it shows that grief is not always something that can become healed. bruce's guilt about his parents death amounts to something hopeful (batman), but his guilt about jason's death makes bruce cruel and childish.

tldr: no one knows the true story, so they compensate from what they do know — but by doing so they project and misinform existing characteristics of jason in order to compartmentalise the gravity of his tragic death. bruce is unable to cope normally and everyone is forced to follow the same fate, because batman's lessons are rarely wrong, even if they cause ten other problems and misunderstandings to understand.

[actuallyadhd]

hi, sorry in advance if this isn't the kind of thing you are open to getting in your inbox, but i just don't know what to do with my feelings. i really hate my adhd. i spent my youth cruising through school and high achiever programs, being told i was going places, and nowadays i am nothing short of completely useless. i'm early in diagnosis to where i'm just starting with medication (15mg of ritalin twice a day at this stage) and haven't effects yet. it's already clear that the dose i'm going to need will be embarrassingly high.

ever since i told my friends, it's obvious that the diagnosis came out of left field for them and that they see me differently. i keep catching them giving me sympathetic looks after zoning out, fiddling with something, or presenting some other stereotypical symptom. i tried mentioning to them how i'm not getting results out of meds yet as a means of whinging since it is making me anxious and a little impatient, and their response was completely uninformed medical advice about how i should be taking them. they're also all talking about how they all probably have adhd too since we 'tend to glom together'. they're all straight-A students with no symptoms or functional issues, so i find this a little condescending. i might be imagining how they've starting talking down to me/talking slower. the diagnosis made me feel stupid enough without them acting like this, and now i just feel like a human joke.

i don't really know what the point of what i'm writing is anymore, but i'm struggling to get any assignments in, failing all my tests, my friends treat me different, my parents are unabashedly disappointed, the meds are taking too long to work, i'm lazy, dysfunctional, getting dumber every day, and my head is too fucking loud to keep living in.

i'm sick of how trying to have a thought feels like being a sentient pile of spaghetti wading through tar, and of not being able to read if my brain decides a particular paragraph is not to its liking, of not remembering anything, of struggling and not even being able to remember and articulate what with, and all the other bullshit. i probably just have to wait this out while we figure out meds, but i'm sorry for using this inbox to vent because i think that's what i'm doing as i can't really go to my friends. feel absolutely no pressure to respond, i might have just needed to wright this down and see it sent off somewhere. any advice is welcome if you have it though, lol.

Sent August 16, 2024

Oof, I'm so sorry you're feeling this way. There's a lot here, so I'm going to try and go through it a bit at a time and tackle everything as I go.

First, this is absolutely the kind of thing I'm here to try and help with. No worries at all on that.

Second, this is a long one, so I'm putting in a cut.

I understand hating your ADHD. You feel how you feel, and that's okay. Reaching out for help is a fantastic way to deal with those emotions.

It sounds like you were a gifted student, and now that you have less of a schedule being imposed on you, you're struggling. That is totally normal, but it also sucks a lot.

You aren't "achieving your potential" or meeting expectations, and at this point they aren't just others' expectations, they're your own. I spent several months working through this issue years ago, and it still comes up for me regularly! The friend who walked me through it was incredibly patient with me, and their job in this case seemed to mainly consist of "why do you think you need to do this thing?" and then just continually asking why until we got to the bottom of it all.

Once you know what's at the base of the expectations, you're in a way better position to decide whether they're expectations you want to try to meet.

One of the good things about getting diagnosed is that it gives you information. Now you know why things are hard, and you can start looking for solutions that will actually work with your brain. You may find some of those solutions here, and you can always ask for help with specific issues.

Now, it's possible that Ritalin/methylphenidate isn't the right medication for you. It is also possible that the dose is too low; I don't know a lot about doses for Ritalin (I was initially put on Concerta but it was Very Bad so we switched to Dexedrine/amphetamine) but I used to know someone who took 150mg Ritalin every day, so that's a thing.

As for your friends, talk to them about how they're acting. Tell them that you don't appreciate the jokes or the different treatment. Explain that ADHD has been there all along, it just wasn't discovered earlier because your giftedness hid it. You are not a different person.

Having ADHD doesn't make you stupid. We've already established that you're gifted. I know what that's like; I was this flavour of twice-exceptional, too, and I was 28 with my ADHD was finally diagnosed. I know that doesn't help how you feel right now, but it is true.

For your school stuff, talk to your instructors about getting extensions so you can try to get caught up. Go to your school's disability services office and talk to them about what you can access in terms of accommodations. Set yourself a schedule for studying and working on assignments that you stick to no matter what.

I'm not sure why your parents are disappointed. If it's your school performance, I get it. Showing them that you're doing your best will help a lot with that. If it's the ADHD itself, that's not your fault. ADHD is hugely genetic, so it's just a thing that happens and probably you have relatives who also have ADHD, or at least people who would probably qualify for a diagnosis.

Medication can take a while to figure out, and it can be difficult to deal with waiting while you get the right medication and the right dose. At the same time, you may not notice a difference right away; so much depends on the person and the medication.

Now, you are not lazy or getting "dumber" every day. You have ADHD, which means you have executive dysfunction. That is hard because the world is not set up for people like us, so when we struggle we compare ourselves to other people and that's never a good idea.

I have a suggestion for helping you feel better about yourself, and then I have some resources for you to look at.

Start a scrapbook that's just about good things about you. Make a page for things you're interested in (or a page per interest). Do something about your favourite colour, things you have done for other people, etc. The idea is that then you can look at this book and remind yourself of the good things about who you are as a person.

As for resources, here are a couple of posts over on the main Actually ADHD site that might help with some of what you're struggling with. Most of the posts there include printables, so do have a look and see if those might help you at all.

Followers, do you have any other suggestions for this anon?

-J

[probably-writing-x]

Enough

Summary:

Warnings: Discussions of body dysmorphia, eating disorders, self image issues. If you, or anyone you know, is struggling with these thoughts or illnesses, please seek the help needed. I have linked some international helplines and support below for any of you who may need it. You are loved and worthy, always.

International Eating Disorder Treatment Information & Resources Help (eatingdisorderhope.com)

Email Helpline – BDDF (bddfoundation.org)

Professional Help And Support - Body Image Movement

Author's Note: I hope I’ve done this idea justice, I love you all and thank you so much for reading my work <3 You are always enough

---

It was just an Instagram post, wasn't it? Just a photo of the two of you. A photo of you and Drew from Chase's film camera - you both sat at the table at dinner, a beer bottle in Drew's hand, your head on his shoulder, a grin across his face. Innocent.

But the comments were far from it. The words were forcing a clench into your chest, a tightness in your throat, a tremble in your bottom lip.

What does he see in her?

I'm sorry but he can do so much better

This girl is not it, Drew

You were sure someone had just taken your heart from your chest and ripped it up in front of your eyes, broken off every band-aid you'd used to heal it, peeling them and tossing them aside.

Drew had been the person who helped to heal you, since you two had started dating eight months ago. It took him a while, but he broke down the walls you had built to protect yourself. He healed the pieces of yourself that you thought were broken beyond repair. But, now, it seemed the world was out to destroy all of that.

You can't help the tears that spill down your cheeks, dropping in blurring patches over the words on your phone screen. Your fingers fumble to lock the screen quickly, trembling in their movements.

"Babe? Are you ready to go?" Drew calls out from the other side of the locked bathroom door.

You take in a shaky breath, dragging a hand under your eyes to try and pick up any of the stray tears. You clear your throat.

"(Y/N)?" He's closer to the door now, his shadow visible under the gap at the bottom.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second," You call back, raising your voice so it masks the break in your words, the way your throat is still constricting.

You drag a hand over your eyes once again, smooth over your hair, shift the material of his baggy hoodie around your shoulders, another deep breath, and you open the bathroom door to see him.

He frowns a little, "Everything okay, honey?"

"Yeah, yeah," You shake your head, "I just couldn't get my contacts in."

Drew nods as if believing you and reaches out a splayed hand to wait for you to hold it, "Shall we go?"

"Sure,"

You grip his hand a little tighter so that he doesn't notice the way yours are still shaking, noticing your appearance in the mirror just before the door to your apartment - tired, but in the drained of all energy sort of way.

~~~

"I just think objectively I dress better," Drew defends himself, his arm sprawled out on the back of the couch behind you.

"Yeah but that's because you have (Y/N) telling you what looks good," Chase points out, though their argument seems to blur in the space between you and them, their words not sounding clear.

"Oh come on!" Drew scoffs, "Babe, will you tell them that I actually am capable of dressing myself?"

You can't bring your mouth to respond when your brain feels like it is running a thousand miles an hour.

"Hey," Drew drops his hand from the back of the couch to squeeze at your shoulder, like he's making sure you're still there.

"Oh, sorry, yeah, yeah, he does," You glance up from your hands momentarily to where the rest of the group were all looking directly at you.

They know you better than to try and pry, instead turning amongst themselves and chatting about an event they had coming up. Drew waits until he is sure that everyone's attention is away from the two of you before he makes any move. He shuffles himself a little on the sofa and brings his arm down so that it envelops around your shoulders and he can pull you into his grasp a little tighter - drawing him into you.

"What's up babe?" He asks running a hand up and down your spine, the delicate feeling making your skin tingle.

"Nothing, I'm okay, I just zoned out for a second, that's all," You encourage, staring down at the material of his joggers so that you don't have to look up and meet his eyes.

You can only imagine the frown on his face as he says, "Are you sure?"

"Of course," You try to inject a little more energy into your words then, hoping he'll believe them just a fraction more.

"Okay, I'm going to get a beer, do you want anything?" He kisses the top of your hair.

Your mind flashes back to the comments from before, one in particular - She needs to lose weight if she wants to be good enough for him.

"Just a water please."

Drew narrows his eyes at you, "Who are you and what did you do with my girlfriend?"

You laugh and it seems to satisfy any worry in him as he disappears into the kitchen. You shift your weight on the couch and pull his hoodie around you, making sure it didn't sit too awkwardly around your stomach. You swallow the lump in your throat and try to blend into the room you now felt completely separate in.

~~~

There was always that half an hour of procrastination after you had a shower where you would sit on your bed and let the time just pass. You'd been scrolling aimlessly through TikTok with no real attention, until you came across a video of your own boyfriend. It was an edit of him from interviews with the cast recently, that brightness in his eyes that never faded.

You're not sure why you do, but you click onto the comments. And it's practically flooded.

How (Y/N) managed to get him is beyond me

She's never going to be enough for him

He'll realise it eventually.

She was better looking when they first got together but she's let herself go.

The last comment has a video response attached to it and it's simply instinct when you click onto it. There's a montage of photos of you just before you and Drew had got together, and when the music changes, it's photos of you now that you and Drew were eight months in. Sure, your body had changed. You were comfortable, and healthy, and you were no longer as concerned with counting your meals like they were all crimes against you. He made you confident in a way that let you see your body as more than its image. But that didn't seem to be enough for his 'fans'.

Your eyes drift up to the outfit hanging from a clothes hanger on the door of the wardrobe in front of you, the one you'd been so excited to wear tonight. It was black and tight fitted, a low neckline and a lower back that dipped to the bottom of your spine, two thin diamond circled cut-outs on either side of your torso. When you'd first put it on, it felt like a dream, and you felt like you couldn't wait for the event when you could wear it. You imagined the photos they'd take of you and Drew, the way he'd look at you in awe like you were the best thing he'd ever seen. But the thought of wearing it now is bringing a sick feeling to your stomach that you are sure won't leave.

"What are you doing here?" Drew laughs when he walks into the room, snapping you out of your daze, "And what are you watching? I've heard that song playing like ten times in a row."

You look up from your phone and lock it quickly before he can see the screen.

"What are you hiding?" He narrows his eyes at you jokingly, "Is it your secret boyfriend?"

"One of them," You return sarcastically.

He walks over to the edge of the bed and stands between your legs, where you were sat with your towel wrapped around your drying skin.

"You know if you sit here longer you'll be complaining that we're going to be late," He comments, running his fingers over the water droplets that are lingering on your shoulders.

"Yeah, um, I hope you don't mind," You take a deep breath, not making eye contact with him, "I think I might take a rain check on tonight."

Drew steps back a little like he's genuinely taken aback, before crouching down in a squat in front of you so that his eyeline meets yours, "Okay, what's going on babe?"

"Nothing, nothing," You smile a little, trying to reassure yourself as much as him, "I just don't really feel like going out."

"Do you feel okay?" He brings a hand up to brush some of the damp hair away from your face, the back of his hand pressed against your skin like he's checking for your temperature.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I'm fine, I'm just not up for going out," You nod, smiling so that it hides the weakness in your eyes.

"You know these events are boring when you're not there," He squeezes your shoulder, leaning forward to kiss you.

You're cautious at the touch, something you'd never felt before with Drew. He draws one hand up to cup around your head, his long fingers sprawling backwards to grip you close to him, drawing you into his kiss. When you feel the contact of his hand against your thigh - nothing more than a gentle grip like he normally would - you can't help but flinch away.

He looks at you with a flash of worry over his features, "I didn't mean to-"

"I'm just tired," You cut in quickly, pushing yourself back a bit on the mattress, "I think I might take a nap."

Drew swallows the lump in his throat and tries to mask the concern on his face, worried he'd just done something he shouldn't have done, "Yeah, okay, get some sleep. I'll let you know when I'm leaving."

He stands up and drags a hand through his hair, looking at you again like he's trying to break through a wall without knowing why it was there, or what he'd find on the other side. But there was a strange air of uncertainty when he looked at you, like he was finding it just slightly more difficult to see you recently - and he just couldn't figure out why.

"I'll see you soon."

~~~

Over the next few days, you try to use the excuse that you're ill to avoid Drew asking too many questions. So that he doesn't overthink when you don't want to get up to make breakfast with him, or when he goes to cuddle you in bed but wakes up an hour later to find that you were no longer in his arms. But he recognises all of it. He's making mental notes of every time he sees you skip a meal, or eat barely enough to constitute as one. He lays awake when he feels you pull away from him, knowing you're laying away from on the opposite side of the bed, neither of you sleeping. He notices the way you pull awkwardly at your clothes, and how the tighter fitting things you normally wore had all been seemingly discarded in a pile at the bottom of your wardrobe. He saw it all because he wanted to see you.

You snapped him from his thoughts as you came into the kitchen. You looked tired, and the colour seemed to have drained from your face, your body drowned in one of his hoodies, your eyes focused on your phone.

"So that's where all of my jumpers have gone," Drew comments, stirring aimlessly at the eggs in the pan.

"Did you post a photo of us?" Your voice sounds hoarse, not the sort of thickness that would tell him you'd slept well.

"Yeah, yeah," He beams, "Just one of us from our holiday, I think Madison took it, we're by the pool."

He's sure he can see a tremble in your hands when you look up at him.

"What's up?" There's a frown washing over his face, one full of fear.

You shake your head, "Nothing, it's nothing. What are you making?"

He looks down at the pan and turns down the heat, "Eggs, bacon and toast, do you want some?"

"No, no, I'm not hungry."

It's like something switches in him then, a final straw in him as he was watching you slip away from him.

"(Y/N), what's going on?"

You look up at him and your gaze meets his for the first time, it already evoking a bubbling in your chest that you were sure would result in tears.

Drew crosses the space of the kitchen island and comes to stand in front of you, "I can tell something's wrong, and I've been trying to give you your space but it's so hard - this isn't you."

He stands in front of you and holds one hand of yours in his, his other hand moving to your other one, but your phone is still gripped tight in its grasp. Drew's eyes flick down and then back up to yours, taking the phone from you like it was going to tell you an explanation of everything going on behind your eyes.

When he looks at the screen, it is flooded with your message requests on Instagram - all of them hurling various insults at you, telling you of your lack of worth, how Drew must be blind to be with you, how disgusting you were, how you'd let yourself go. There's a sickness in his stomach, and he finds himself gripping your hand tighter as if he needed something to steady him.

"How long has this been going on for?" His eyes haven't left the screen.

"A while now but the past couple of weeks have been really bad," There's a quiver in your bottom lip.

"And this is all of it? Or is there more?"

"There's comments on my photos too, and I've seen some stuff on TikTok as well," You continue, watching his every move like you didn't know what he'd do next.

"(Y/N), why didn't you say anything?"

"I'm sorry I-" You stumble over your words, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"No, no, you don't need to apologise. I'm not mad at you okay?" He tosses your phone onto the couch and uses his free hand to cup your cheek, "I just want you to be able to tell me these things, and I'm worried about why you felt like you couldn't."

"I-" You try to swallow down the nerves blocking your throat, "So many of the comments were about not being enough for you, and I kept seeing them and every time I did, I just got scared that you'd see it and you'd believe them."

"Not enough for me?" Drew's voice cracks at the thought, "(Y/N) you are everything to me."

Your tears start to fall down onto his hand but he doesn't move it from your skin.

"I don't care what these people think, I don't care what they have to say, but I do care about how it's made you feel like this. You've been losing yourself because of this, and that can't keep happening. You were so confident (Y/N), it's one of the things I love about you," He smiles reassuringly and you can't help but smile too.

There are no words now that were going to feel right for you to say.

"I don't expect you to think of yourself as perfect. Hell, there are things about myself that I don't like, but I need you to think of yourself as enough, okay?"

You nod.

"You're more than enough for me, you're always going to be," He kisses your nose, "But you also need to be enough for yourself."

When he wraps his arms around you, it's like he's breathing a new sense of love and life into your tired limbs. You look over his shoulder and can see the reflection of the two of you in the long mirror that occupied one wall of your lounge. Drew is crouched down to your height, his head dropped down to your shoulder and his arms long enough to envelop around you. He holds you like you’re the most precious thing on the planet, like he’s kissing every single one of the stars that made up your body. He makes you feel loved, and, more importantly, he makes you feel like you could love yourself. And that felt like enough.

[tofics]

The Pact - Part 2

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader

Summary: It's always been you and your dad. A tough duo, tackling life's challenges together. Not even an outbreak can change that. It's you and your dad against the world, doing whatever it takes to survive. But one day, tragedy strikes. You get separated from your father on a supplies run. By now it's been months, and you're losing hope. That is, until a strange man appears, looking weirdly put together for someone who's years into an apocalypse. There's something off about him. The weirdest part though? He seems to know your father...

Word count: 2781 words

Warnings: Cursing, losing a loved one

Previously: "My name is Elijah Mikaelson. Are you Y/N L/N?" If anything, you should have shot him right then and there. It would have been the smart thing to do. But instincts and smart-things-to-do don't always go hand in hand. Instead of shooting him, you lowered your rifle as you stared at him in bewilderment. "Now how the fuck do you know my name?"

If it had been anyone else, Elijah wouldn't have tolerated Y/N's behavior. Not this stand-off, and certainly not the language. But this was Y/N. Steve's daughter. He had made a promise, and Elijah was a man of his word. He owed it to Steve. And, by extension, to you. Even up until a couple of minutes ago, your paths had never crossed before.

Elijah sensed the fragility of the situation. This could go either way: your surprise would either lower your defense, or send you over the edge. He was hoping that it wouldn't be the latter. It would make things a lot more... complicated.

"Your father sent me. Steve." He watched his words sink in. The brief flicker of hope in your eyes, your bodily response of your heart skipping a beat and then beating even faster. The seconds it took for you digest his words and the struggle to find your own.

"I - how do I know you're not lying?" To anyone else, the wavering in your voice might have gone undetected. Elijah's supernatural hearing had no trouble picking it up though. He knew this was his win-or-lose moment.

"I'm going to reach into my pocket, if I may." You started to object - "Hey, hey!" - but before you could do anything, Elijah reached into his front pocket where he kept the picture neatly tucked behind his handkerchief. He deliberately made his movement a little too fast for you to react, but not too fast that you'd grow suspicious. He was here to win your trust, after all, not to scare you.

He held the picture up so you could see. He was still too far away from you for it to be recognizable at this distance though and he saw you trying to peek at it through the scope. A creased line appeared on your forehead when you were unsuccessful.

"Walk that up here. Real slow. No shenanigans, I dare you." You pointed the rifle at the ground between you two and then focused it back on him. Elijah nodded and slowly closed the three fourths of distance between you and him until you interrupted him again. "Ah ah ah, enough. Put it down and then back it up, buddy. Right back over there."

Klaus would have had a field day if he saw how she was ordering him around, he thought. "A puppet, are you now, brother?" He could almost hear his younger brother mocking him in his mind. But it didn't matter. He had a duty to fulfil. Elijah walked backwards to where he'd exited the woods. Once he was at a certain distance, you left your position on the porch. You matched his speed while you kept the barrel steadily pointed at him. When you reached the photo on the ground, you squatted down without taking your eyes off of him.

'She's well-trained', Elijah thought to himself. He wondered how much of it had been Steve's training and how much of it you'd had to learn on your own out of necessity. How much had you had to endure on your own? The thought was upsetting to him.

He watched you carefully retreat to the porch and then unfold the picture. One glance, and a whole array of emotions played out on your face. A small sob escaped your throat and with it, any hostility you'd previously exuded.

"How... how do you have this?" Your eyes found his over the distance and Elijah could read the silent plea in them. You were begging him to have answers about your father, answers that you hadn't found so far. He saw the build up of hope and worry that had accumulated over the last months behind your eyes. And it broke his heart.

"May I?" He gestured at the cabin. He was reasonably certain that he'd earned enough of your trust to let him approach, and he was right.

You gave a single nod of approval before you slumped down in your rocking chair. You couldn't believe it. There, in your shaking hand, was the picture your father had always carried with him. It showed you and him when you were still little enough to be carried on his arms, the both of you cheesing at the camera, smiles glistening in your eyes. It was his favorite picture of the two of you and it was one of the few things he'd kept on him when you had to leave your home. As far as you knew, it was the only picture of the two of you that still existed. You know your district went up in flames just hours after you made it out. You and your dad had watched the flames from afar, holding on to each other.

The past months had been the longest you'd ever been without your dad. Seeing his face again on the picture felt like drowning and coming up for air at the same time. You knew you were supposed to be paying more attention to the stranger that was coming up to the porch, but you couldn't help it. Your eyes were glued to the photograph in your hand.

"Your father and I met a couple of months ago. We decided to travel together for a while, but he... we got separated." The man spoke quietly, but even so, his words barely registered with you, coming to you in muffled sounds like being pressed through cotton candy. Moments passed before their meaning sunk in and with it, your heart. Separated.

You had just begun to try and accept the idea that you'd never see your dad again. It was the most painful thing you'd ever had to deal with and trying to come to terms with it seemed even more impossible than the idea of your dad no longer being alive, but the more time had passed, the less plausible it seemed that he could still be out there. You didn't want to ask, you didn't want to know for sure, but you had to. If it meant you could see your dad again, you had to know. Even if the answer might kill you. To know for sure that he's gone. It took a deep breath to find the courage to ask what you had to ask.

Elijah had stopped in front of the porch, just a little off to the side of its steps. It was for both of your sake's; a gesture of respect for your personal space that he didn't want to intrude on as someone you didn't know, and as a favor for himself. He hadn't fed in some time. Not out of choice, but because of a lack of opportunities. Blood banks had long since gone out of business, and people were not as easy to come by anymore. It was also a matter of simple calculation: the rotten ones seemed to outnumber the living by a large amount. If he mindlessly gorged on whoever he came across, he'd be an active contributor to the dwindling numbers of living humans on this planet, thereby slowly cutting off his own food supply. No, he'd had to resort to a 'vegetarian' lifestyle for quite some time now. His diet largely consisted of a variation of animals he came across, but even so, he did not feed on every feathery of furry creature that crossed his path. It was for the same reason he could not feed on just any human he came upon. So, it had been a minute since he'd had a proper chance to fill his hunger. He hadn't meant to meet you on an empty stomach, but there was no changing that now. When he realized he was coming up on you, he'd paused and dipped fingertip under his nose, applying no more than a drop of perfume beneath each nostril. It wouldn't be noticeable to you, but a great help for him in keeping his hunger in check.

He watched you drink in the picture he'd carried with him for so long with a hunger that seemed to almost match his own. It didn't take long though for the sadness to reach your eyes. It snuffed out every spark that had lit up when you first laid eyes on the photograph. A few moments passed before you took a big breath.

"So he's still alive? When did you last see him? When did you get separated?"

'She's going to ask about me. Be evasive. Just gain her trust. That's the most important thing. Make sure she trusts you. She might never forgive me for hiding the truth from her, but it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that she'll be safe. Promise me that you'll keep her safe. Promise me!' Your fathers words rang in Elijah's ears as he contemplated how to answer you.

He could see the battle within you, it was visible in your eyes. Hope was almost winning, but the despair that had grown within you over the last months was trying to keep grounded, to shield you from the pain that a confirmation of death would ultimately bring.

Elijah was not a stranger to lying. Many of the battles him and his siblings had fought over the centuries had been won through deception and deceit. Despite that, he prided himself on being a man of his word. Over the long, long course of his life, he had perfected the art of 'omitting the truth', as he preferred to call it. Words were binding and constricting. There was so much more freedom in what wasn't said.

"I believe it has been a little over a month since I last spoke to your father." He waited, giving you a chance to process. You slowly nodded and softly ran your thumb over his face on the picture. When you looked back up at him, the look in your eyes asked him to continue. "We formed an... alliance, if you will. He was on his own, I was on my own. It seemed only sensible to travel together. I agreed to aide him in his search for you."

This much was true. He could only hope she would not repeat the one question he promised he wouldn't give an answer to. Not yet, anyway.

"Why?"

Elijah shifted on his feet. "Pardon me?"

"Why did you agree to help him? What do you get out of it?"

Omit the truth. It's not yet time.

"I know what it's like to try and find a lost family member."

That seemed to strike a cord with you. In what appeared to be a flash-wave of shame, your cheeks lit up as the blood rushed to your head. It became apparent to Elijah that you had jumped to the conclusion that he had lost someone in the same way you had. It wasn't an uneducated guess, grief over a lost one had become a common denominator.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize... I apologize." It left him feeling sickly. Unlike you, he had very little reason to believe that his siblings had suffered the same fate as Steve. To impose shame on you, when he was feeding you lies. Alas, in the grand scheme of things, he had done worse. And he was doing this for a greater cause after all.

"I gotta ask." You sat your dinner down in front of you: a can of cold beans, served with a side of stale crackers, both of which were way beyond their expiration date but still edible. In front of you, the man who'd introduced himself as Elijah was nibbling on some beans himself, his pack of crackers still untouched. You'd literally needed to talk him into eating. It was one of the many strange things about him. Who in their right mind turned their nose at food that was freely offered? You'd have thought he'd be grateful, considering he'd arrived without so much as a water bottle on him.

Come to think of it though, he didn't appear malnourished in the least. If anything, he looked a bit sickly in the face, but that could've just been the heat. He'd finally taken off his jacket when they sat down for dinner - how he could walk around in a suit in this weather was beyond you, never mind the questionable fashion choice in general - and it became very clear that Elijah had not missed a meal in quite some time. Moreover, he was not only well-fed, he was clearly well-trained too. It was hard to miss how his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt tightly whenever he lifted the spoon to his mouth.

It was hard to miss, but you'd still looked twice. Quick glances, ones you hoped he wouldn't notice. You also hadn't failed to notice that his trained body came with a rather handsome face. Quite handsome, in fact. If you added the suit into the equation, it was almost ridiculous just how handsome he looked. Still, as much as the suit did for him, it also weirded you out.

"What's up with the fit?" You gestured at him from top to bottom with a raised eyebrow. It could have been just the way the candle-light danced over his face, but you thought you saw a small smile flutter across his lips.

"Old habits are hard to shake, I suppose."

"Huh. I guess." You mused over it for a moment. "Must be kinda hard to keep clean though, no?"

Elijah put his can of beans down and leaned back on his chair. There was a look in his eyes you simply couldn't put a name to - cold? Calculating? Yet you didn't feel threatened. On the opposite. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as his gaze wandered from the top of your head down over your body to your feet. It was as if he was seizing you up, but it was more than that - judging you? You tried to keep as clean as possible, but hey, tap water was a luxury you could no longer count on, much less a shower head. Still, you did fairly well. Compared to him, however, looking like a damn model in his pristine clothes - it was like day and night.

His gaze wandered back up and met you at eye-level. You tried to meet his eyes with defiance. However he had achieved to look the way he did, clearly, you hadn't been granted the same miracle. 'Bite me,' your face was saying, your attitude a lot cooler than the heat that was burning in your cheeks. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling like there was more that you were just not catching up to yet.

"I try my best," Elijah finally replied, a small smile playing around his lips. He held your gaze for just a moment longer before he redirected it to the tin can hin his hands. As his eyes went down, so did the tension you had felt from his ever-lasting gaze.

A couple of hours later, you were sprawled out on your makeshift cot, tossing and turning. Although the sun had set hours ago, there hadn't been a significant drop in temperatures. It wasn't just the unbearable heat that was keeping you up though. You'd decided to trust Elijah - more out of necessity than choice - but he was still, by all means, a stranger, capable of anything, as far as you knew.

You had insisted on keeping watch for the first few hours. Strange as he was, appearance-wise and unpreparedness in terms of supplies or weapons, he was still your only lead in months in finding your father. Whether he was just reckless enough to wander through this version of the world unprepared, you didn't know, but you would make sure to do your part in keeping your only lead alive and well. And that meant sleep. For him, not for you. Until he rose just two hours after you'd ushered him to bed and insisted he'd take over watch.

So here you were, plagued by the heat and the uncertainty of the stranger keeping watch outside of the hut. 'If he wanted to kill me, he'd have already tried,' a voice in your head insisted. It was hard to argue with, but still. And there was another thing on your mind too. You kept going over it in your head until it suddenly dawned on you.

He hadn't been judging you for your poor hygiene. He had been checking you out.

You couldn't help but snort about the ridiculousness of it all. What a strange day you'd had.

[philistiniphagottini]

I’m actually so nervous typing this rn it’s sad😭 this is literally my first ask and I FINALLY GOT THE FRIGGIN CURAGE TO ASK- AND YOU TOTALLY DONT HAVE TO DO THIS AT ALL😭 but If you don’t mind doing Dante from dmc for this ask? SO, I’m a big cryer, which is apart of my adhd, and sometimes I cut my hair when I’m upset, and I just kinda wanted to know how would he react to us just randomly crying over nothing or sorta realizing our hair is getting shorter and shorter whichever one you want. THIS SOUNDS SO WEIRD IM SORRY-

-💧(if this isn’t taken do you mind if I be this? I’m hoping to be a regular asker 😭)

Aww, I'm glad you got the courage to send in a request, I appreciate it :) And it doesn't sound weird at all, don't worry, you're doing fine :D Sure, I don't mind, choose whatever symbol you want. I'm happy to hear that you want to come back. Hope you enjoy~

cw. hurt/comfort

"Hey, did you get your hair cut again?"

Dante’s voice cut through the air, catching you by surprise as his voice raised over the soft music playing on the old jute box tucked in the corner of the Devil May Cry. The sudden question almost made you drop the fluffy duster you had been holding, a small cloud of dust kicking up when your foot abruptly collided with the bookshelf. You sputtered, waving your hand through the air to disperse the little cloud as the dust irritated your nose. You spun on your heel to face your boyfriend, catching his scrutinising gaze over the top of the magazine he was currently reading. He quirked an eyebrow in your direction, patiently waiting for you to compose yourself. You awkwardly cleared your throat.

"Why do you ask?" you responded with your own question.

Dante’s eyes narrowed as you were further scrutinised, his sharp gaze narrowed as his eyes roved up and down your body. Your eyes nervously flicked away, hands slowly constricting around the duster you were still holding as you dug your fingers into the fluffy material. Dante cocked his head to the side, a small noise bubbling at the back of his throat.

"It looks like your hair got shorter...again..." Dante murmured, his voice suddenly dropping and you almost missed what he had said.

Your nervous gaze flickered back to him. It was hard to supress the surprised look that painted your features. You were mildly shocked that Dante had even noticed. Due to his carefree and lackadaisical attitude, you had been fooled into thinking that the finer details usually went unnoticed by him. You had been, evidentially, proven wrong. Your fingers twitched as you reached for your hair, pinching a few locks and twisting the soft wisps between your digits.

"Does it look bad?" you questioned.

Dante immediately shook his head. "No, not at all."

A frown tugged at your lips; brow furrowed as you shot him a quizzical look. You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly closed it once more as Dante spoke once more.

"Is something wrong? Is everything okay?"

You opened your mouth but it quickly snapped shut as you swallowed the words back down your throat. Upon second thought, you weren’t exactly sure how to respond to his question. Part of you wanted to say yes, another part wanted to lie and say no; to tell him that everything was alright. And another part was still in disbelief that Dante was able to notice that something was bothering you. Were you that easy to read? Were your eyes still swollen and puffy? Had he noticed the frayed edges of hair that you had desperately tried to shear off with your crappy, plastic store-bought scissors as a way to cope with the sadness welling up inside of you?

You were struggling to articulate your thoughts and Dante could see the inner turmoil behind your eyes. If your brain started spinning any faster, he reckoned steam would start puffing out of your ears. With a small huff of effort, he pushed his chair out from his desk, heavy boots thudding against the wooden floorboards with a dramatic groan. He threw the magazine he had been reading to the side, swivelling his chair in your direction and turning to face you. He pat his knee, beckoning you to come closer to him with his other hand.

"Come, sit. Come over and tell me all about what’s been bothering you" he said.

He pat his knee once more, further trying to coax you to come and sit in his inviting lap. You could already feel the tears welling up behind your eyes as the duster in your hands clattered to the floor and you ran straight into Dante’s open arms. He grunted loudly as you fell into his lap, the chair squealing loudly in protest at your sudden weight. You clung to him desperately as a throaty chuckle breezed past his lips. You sniffled against the collar of his shirt, his warm breath tickling your cheek as you coiled your arms around his waist and squeezed him tight. He gently wound his arms around you, placing his hands on your back and running his fingers along the curve of your spine to soothe you. His hugs were always so warm; the scent of his cologne filling your lungs with each deep breath you took as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"Shh, it’s okay love. I’m here. Why don’t you tell me all about it, huh?"

[itsohh]

I Can Be Your Angel Or Your Devil

A/N: Female reader, I don't write anything alcohol based or noncon (as intoxicated is noncon) and requests for like specific things are still off for r6s (open for kinktober day requests) but I did this one considering it fit this day and I didn't have anything planned.

Day 9: Stripping

Word count: 1054

Warnings: smut

AO3 Kinktober Masterlist

The keys in your hand rattled slightly as you slid them into the lock. A moment later you had turned them and pushed open the door to your shared apartment. Those keys were placed on the side table nearby and your eyes lit up at the sight of your partner. It was rather late and you had originally thought he would have gone to bed. The image of him there told you otherwise.

He was sitting on the sofa in the living room with a book in his hands. It was completely in Russain and while you had managed to pick up a bit verbally, you still struggled with the written word. Then again, it did give you an excuse to get Timur to read to you. The thought of raising that activity crossed your mind but another one forced that out and claimed your mind. Only when he made eye contact with you did he put a bookmark into it and close it. "Have fun?" 

"I did! Anya wanted to stay out a bit longer and I'm not going to lie my feet are killing me just a bit. But it was fun. That being said if I  had a dollar for every time someone gave me an angel-themed pickup line…It got old real fast but…" You shuffled your way over to him as your heels clicked through the kitchen floor. His eyes glanced towards your shoes as the sound caught his attention. Timur would never say, but you knew he loved the sight of them. 

"I missed you though." Your eyes landed on his and he gave you a warm smile. 

"You were only gone a few hours."

"Yeahhh but I still missed you." You made a direct line towards him and didn't stop when you were in front. You mounted his lap with both knees on the side of him. 

"Can I have a kiss?" You asked, your voice rather low. 

"You may have a lot more than that." His eyes flickered up your body before they held your gaze. 

Your lips brushed against his for a second before you firmly pressed them against his. Slow and steady, they moulded with his and his tongue tasted your bottom lip. Timur's hands settled on your hips and you started to roll your hips down against him. 

"Mmm." He hummed as you pulled apart. "You certainly did miss me." His hand found the back of your dress and slowly pulled the zip down. Yet, when it reached the bottom you slid off his lap and stood up again. Timur's brow raised and you clutched the dress to your chest, preventing it from slipping down. 

"Now who said you could go and do that?" There was a cheekiness to your voice and he leaned back on the sofa. His arm extended out as he got comfortable, rather content to watch whatever you had planned. 

"You know I don't think I've seen that dress very much. Show it off for me why don't you?" There was an edge to his voice as his eyes examined everywhere but the white dress. Mainly your exposed legs. 

With a hand still pressed to your chest, you turned to show off the different sides, the open zip showed off your entire back and he let out a sound of approval. 

"Think I've decided I'd like to see it from a new angle."

"Yeah?"

"On the floor." 

You rolled your eyes with a smile and locked your eyes with his. You removed your hand and it dropped to the floor without a bra, your entire chest was bare while your underwear barely covered your ass. You turned for him and he watched the way your legs moved, still with your heels on. 

You turned to the side and slowly bent over before you pushed your underwear over your ass, showing it off to him. "You're going to be the death of me one day." You straightened yourself up and strutted up to him, your knees found their place once again on the side of his thighs. Once again you slid into his lap. His shoulders were perfect for you to stabilise yourself on as you rocked your hips. 

“So…” Your voice rang out as you smiled wickedly at him. “How's the book?”

The question had Timur blink a couple of times before his eyes glanced towards the book that had been discarded on the side table nearby. 

“What book?”

You rewarded the man's answer with your lips, slow and wet against his. Your lipstick formed a print on his that you didn’t dare tell him about. Your tongue came into contact with his for a moment until you caught his bottom lip. Seconds ticked by and you slowly released his lip. As you kept eye contact, you deliberately ground your hips rather harder than your usual pace, your bare cunt rubbed against his clothed crotch. With a slight adjustment, you were able to feel the outline of his ever-hardening cock that stuck to the side of his leg. The jeans gave him little room for movement and you knew that the pair became tighter with every second that past. 

His fingers dug into your thighs and you leaned in so your mouth caught the side of his throat. You nipped and kissed his neck and slowly moved towards the side. The perfect location for you to suck on, to claim him as your own. Timurs hands settled on your ass but still allowed you to pick the pace. He would let you have your fun. 

“Your gorgeous you know that?” He breathed out. “My own personal devil.”

“Devil?” You pulled back and raised a brow. “I would have thought I was your angel.” You tapped his chest with a finger and gestured to the fake halo above your head.

“An angel doesn’t tempt me like this.” 

You pouted playfully at his words and batted your eyes at him. “Aww baby I’m sorry.” You raised yourself off his body and back onto your feet. Despair crossed his face aligned with regret but that was quickly washed away when you grabbed his hand and pulled him off the couch. Spellbound, you pulled him along towards your bedroom with a wicked grin on your face.

“Let me make it up to you.”

[ambisweetiepie]

Love Live SIF2

Don't mind me while i rant about Love Live.

I'm so annoyed!!!

I already knew I wasn't going to enjoy SIF2 as much as All Stars, because I had downloaded the japanese version to try it out.

Now that the global version is here, I was able to link my all stars and SIF account. SIF2 is only going to be around until May, but it's supposed to be available afterwards as basically just a gallery for the cards you got. You won't be able to play it at that point.

So I linked my old accounts, and they give a nice gallery for your old SIF cards, but nothing for All Stars??? Just give you some gatcha tickets??? You couldn't at least give me a gallery for my All Stars cards that I loved and cherished?????? You were able to do it for SIF, so why weren't you able to do it for All Stars???

Also! I know All Stars' game play wasn't for everyone. It relied on having good cards rather than having skill. You could play and switch between teams while not actually doing the rhythm game part. I really liked that!!! Even with the rythym game, there was a lot to keep track of (swapping teams, your SP gauge) but as a result they only made you tap left or right sides of the screen for the rythym game.

This was great for me because I can't actually play SIF's dumb rhythm game layout. It has nine buttons all over the screen. It hurts my hands if I try to do it much. It may have been more playable when the game first came out, because phone screens were smaller at the time. None of the buttons were a reach. But screens have gotten bigger and so there's no comfortable way to hold my phone and reach each button. They could've changed things to be like other rhythm games. Bandori, Proseka, and D4DJ all have the tapping section at the bottom. They've all managed to implement gameplay in that that still makes it fun and engaging.

More complaints:

When chatting, the text from the person you're chatting with goes by very fast. There's no way to adjust the speed of this. Once they're done talking and it's your turn to reply, everything other than the reply screen is dimmed out. So you have to struggle to finish reading what they just said.

My BIGGEST PET PEEVE OF THE GAME is that when picking out songs, they give you 8 seconds of song audio. So while you're deciding, and picking out your team, it's replaying over and over and it's so obnoxious. The only way to turn this off is to turn ALL background music for the entire game off. I'm not asking much, I think LLAS had it be like 15 seconds? Just a little longer makes the loop a little less annoying.

Small annoyance, is they tried to improve the mouth movements while talking to make all sorts of different shapes? This was unnecessary, and more immersion breaking than the simple open/close mouth movements they had previously.

Also, the old card art. I understand you don't want to have to start from scratch for cards, but including the old art means a few things: 1) You're asking people to try again for cards they already got in the past 2) A lot of that artwork is OLD OLD. And it makes things look less cohesive, and cheap. 3) When adding Nijigasaki to SIF, they never bothered to draw regular cards for them, instead just using their in game sprites from the visual novel sections. This also looks cheap. Other games have done the same thing (Like Obey Me) and it looks cheap and lazy there too.

I really liked everything about All Stars. It really improved a lot from SIF, but was different enough to warrant keeping both around.

They could have just had SIF2 be a replacement for SIF. If they're going to keep everything around from SIF (playstyle, cards, etc), that would've been acceptable. They've improved they UI by a lot and added features SIF didn't have. I stand by what I said from the "it's rude that people have to re-earn cards they already had" but other than that, it more or less seems an improved version of SIF. If they had let SIF players transfer their accounts over, and not closed down All Stars, I don't think they would've gotten near as much backlash as they did. Since All Stars was such a different game, and had those nice 3D graphics, it can't be considered a replacement the way it can be for SIF.

I like the texting with girls feature, even though it has issues. I like the "Daily Life of School Idol" feature, it's a cute alternative to the normal visual novel style and has nice illustrations.

All of that being said, some of my complaints are things that could be fixed. The game didn't have to close down. It's so disappointing to play a game knowing I'll only have until May. While they've mentioned this publicly, they haven't mentioned it in-game. I feel like it's important for anyone who plays to know that we're already months away from EOS. I don't want people spending big money in a game without knowing that it's not going to be around for much longer.

All of this being said, even though I'm upset, I don't want it to go. It fills that love live shaped hole in my heart. It's not the same having a PNG of Kanata tell me hello, compared to the 3D version of her saying hello, slightly being able to interact with her. But it's something. I don't even know for certain if they plan on making a new mobile game at this point.

[thesoulesscollection]

(Request) Crack The Mask

Request: Angst Dmitri; maybe something that involves why he runs the complex the way he does, or maybe something from his past before being the warden? Perhaps whatever it is, it triggers him and none of the employees know why. 

Post Fleeing the Complex, Henry and Ellie team up but I did leave it ambiguous kinda what happened afterwards. 

I don't write much for Dmitri or well, any of the characters in the wall so I was happy to finally be able to do so. This may have gone a little astray of what you may have requested but I hope this is good. As well, I'm a big fan of writing stuff where Dmitri is vulnerable. 

Held up in his office, finally alone, Dmitri kept the door closed by pressing up against it as he took in long, dragged breaths. For once in his life, career path, both that led him to see many gnarly things, he was actually scared to death. It was stupid, humiliating, that he was feeling this way. 

Dmitri shouldn't be seen as weak around his men. He was a warden, after all, meant to be tough, no nonsense, serving with the Wall for over fifty years, everyone gripped in his tight iron fist, he's never supposed to have a bad day. Until recently, things went to shit, as the recent prison riot was anything to go by, and now he's in a frenzied panic. Many prisoners were able to slip through the flagrant cracks while others, his guards and him thankfully were recaptured in a short matter of time. 

"Hello?" Sat on the floor he heard the voice, crisp yet polite call out on the other side of the door. 

"I'm busy, Grigori" In a brittle tone Dmitri can't be bothered to keep a mask of indifference or brisk impatience. "Let me be" 

"They're worried about you. You know that, yes? I am too" Grigori cuts in. Despite what he was told to act in his youth, the threat to weep, loudly, like some snot-nosed child is becoming evident. He struggled, wiping his red rimmed eyes haphazardly to rid the pesky tears. 

"They shouldn't" He draws out unintentionally on some of the words, cheeks warming up at the embarrassment, hands covering his face. 

"We should. As a friend I've known you for decades. I understand what you're feeling. I've been there plenty of times and so has everyone else. But it's going to be fine" 

Unwilling to move from his spot on the cold floor, Dmitri breathes deep, shallow breaths, as he hardly believes the man for a second. 

"You're not alone" 

The warden cracks, casted his head into his hands, bites his lips, an attempt to muffle out the pathetic sounds. "I never had a massive failure like this in my entire career. Not when they came along" He dryly heaves, sobs are choked back. "They ruined me. Everything I have ever worked hard for. I had a reputable career and in a flash they dismantled it"  

"I know" In his teary haze Dmitri was still able to hear the shuffling from the other side of the door and the other man's sympathetic tutting afterwards, "Could I come in?" 

At first, Dmitri vehemently denied the idea of allowing anyone, including his best friend to enter the office, see how broken he is, and change their whole viewpoint on him. It will reveal his weaknesses to the open where in a lifetime he deliberately hid underneath the multiple secretive layers. Then he surmised it, deeper, this was Grigori after all, who he could trust with his life if needs be. 

"... Okay, y-yes…" He concedes, scoots from the door, hand on the wall so he can clumsily stand. In a particularly bad mood with temper flaring wildly, he hides within his office, where he throws an explosive fit, unable to keep his cool. For all he went through came a period of tense uncertainty, he is without control, in a vulnerable spot. 

As his hand reaches toward the handle, the sinking dreadful sensation returns but Dmitri swallows his pride, dusts off the muddy grime from his wrinkled jacket, and wipes the tears with his fist. What worsened it was seeing his friend, battered up, arm in a sling, and looked plainly put darn awful. It was his fault after all, he allowed two prisoners, escapees amongst much more to do that to his right hand and to his men. Hot faced humiliation racks his mind in its entirety, riddled with guilt he could have done more. Furthermore, he hated himself as his eyes stung, his face flushed, and his body started to shake. 

"Thank you" Grigori thanked him for whatever reason when the door opened and the man took his time to enter then closed it behind him. "Everything is going to be alright" 

Stiff and awkward, his posture impeccably straighter than it ought to be, Dmitri looks away as he bites his tongue, not knowing what to say. 

"It's okay to be upset, Dimi. To cry too" Slow to lock the door Grigori continued to cut past the unnecessary small talk. It did manage to both comfort and terrify Dimitri in a way he would usually shut himself away. "Feeling these emotions don't make you weak" 

Grigori steps forward, cautiously, done out of respect, into his personal space, a very thick and large bubble. "I am not weak" He says in a low grumble. "Nor am I going to cry. I'm an adult man" 

"Never said you were weak. I'm saying that you shouldn't be afraid to feel things. Even the bad emotions" 

"Y-You. You don't know what I feel. You don't get to tell me how to feel either" Dmitri albeit weakly orders, he isn't going to allow anyone to dictate him. "I won't stand by and let them get away with this" 

"We know you won't" Calmly reassuringly like always when they're alone, Grigori takes the initiative to have Dmitri sit down in his seat to relax. A hand lays on his tense shoulder as the man continues, "You're an incredibly stubborn man"

At the comment lightly poked at his expense Dmitri rolled his eyes with a huff where his old friend just smirks in return. 

"I know you very well. We've been friends for a long time since childhood. I've helped you through thick and thin and you did the same for me" Grigori pats his shoulder a few times until pulling away. A mild twinge of sadness, perhaps washes over Dmitri though he can't detect the causes behind it. 

"I suppose. Between the two of us. Someone has to be found responsible" Dmitri shrugs then adds, "That is why we need to make a pla-"

"Uh huh. Before we make any rash decisions there's something important to be discussed here" 

"Then this? Recapturing them is our main priority" 

"It is. You're right. Though that's for a later on discussion" Grigori reassures, matter of fact, with the knowledge that when Dmitri gets his attention on a project it's hard to get him off it so he is quicker to divert Dmitri to the major topic, "It's about you" 

 "What about me?" 

"One of the guards. They told me you weren't yourself. You were staring blankly at nothing, unmoving. It scared them"

Dmitri wanted to melt into the seat at the idea someone else outside this office saw him in a disrepaired state. 

"They asked if you were alright. You didn't respond so they presumed otherwise, trying to shake you alert and you do acknowledge how you reacted in turn, yes?" In reluctance Dmitri nods, "Good. Because you began to cry. Why I said it isn't good to bottle this up" 

"I… Uh, I got something in my eye. That's why. I said I was fine" 

"Don't pull the wool over my eyes. We had this talk a second ago" Grigori sternly states. Arms crossed over his chest, cold gray eyes bore down at the warden. Only Dmitri keeps quiet, grips at the chair's armrests. "You can be open with me. Don't hide behind the thin veils that you can't feel these things. Cry if you must. Let it out"   

It was like a cue for the dam to break, tears unwillingly staining his cheeks, he attempted to dry them. "I can't be a failure… I won't let it happen" He angrily shakes the arms, almost to the point could rip them off. "I will get them and show them what I can do to criminals who dares to defy me"

"You're not. We will get over this. A simple yet fixable hiccup in the system" Thankfully, he's helped by Grigori to settle the frenzied panic. "You're not alone. I'm here for you" 

He hoped that was true. Failure wasn't an option in his opinion. The glee he would feel after so long without nearly takes him. Once he gets the two escapees who tarnished his pristine reputation in his grip again, he'll be happy.  "Thank you…" Dmitri gritted out, a crooked smile forcibly stretching his worn face. 

Happiness may be a stretch. 

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x reader)

Words: 1250 (chapter 6)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that?

UPDATES EVERY FRIDAY Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad under the same name <3 ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012 wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012

6. Strange Thoughts

After leaving Nelson and Murdock, you returned home, briefcase full of papers, laptop under your arm and a bag of groceries hanging on your forearm, you struggled to press the code on the front door, until a pleasant voice of a dark haired woman reached your ears, "Please, let me."

You step away from the lock and let the woman press the numbers of the house, noticing how luxurious she looked. Quick overview, and you know - you've never seen her in the building. "Oh, thank you, I didn't want to drop anything." You laugh, still trying to figure out who she was. "I don't think I've ever seen you in the building."

"Oh, it's because I recently moved in. Temporarily. I'm Vanessa." She smiles, stretching out her perfectly manicured hand with quite a number of rings. Then she notices that your hands are indeed full, and awkwardly lowers the hand, "Sorry."

"No, it's alright." You laugh, "I'm y/n."

Now it's her turn to observe you - white blouse, black jacket and pencil skirt - "I've seen you somewhere, right?" Vanessa asks, squinting a little.

"Uh, I'm not sure-"

"Oh, the billboard in the other side of the city," she nods quickly yet elegantly, "you're one of the lawyers, right?"

You sigh, plastering a fake smile on your face, "yes, yes, I'm one of them." You glance at the open door and Vanessa gets the clue, quickly opening them wide for you.

"How exciting, I've always wanted to be a lawyer, but life made me choose differently." She follows you into the lobby, and you both take the first step on the stairs together.

"Really? What do you work now?" You ask, somehow interested in that random woman's life, but it was not your fault that she's feeling super chatty today.

"I'm an art dealer." She says proudly, and you get the feeling that she's feeling superior towards you. Of course, talking stuff about the paintings is not as exhausting as having to read a person's life file and decide whether they are right or wrong under one day. You roll your eyes to yourself.

"Interesting!" You say a little too excited, and hope that she didn't catch you pretending. "I never found time to enjoy many things in life, including art, but I've always felt some sort of pulling from it." This time you didn't lie - many things in your life became a part of your 'black list', especially after the big accident and your departure to law school.

"Then, may I suggest you to come to the exhibition sometime? If I remember correctly, there's a big one happening this weekend. What do you say?" She smiles, and you notice the teeth of a perfect shade of white. Do art dealers really get paid so much?

"Oh, I... Would love to, actually. I'll try to clear my schedule." You laugh awkwardly, caught off guard by the suggestion when you were actually trying to get rid of her.

"You can bring someone, the more, the better." She says, already pulled the keys out of her white purse, so second floor it is.

"Yeah, definitely, of course. Uh, thank you, Vanessa, for the offer. And it was really nice to meet you." You say, quickly collecting your thoughts that have already wandered to the other side of the city.

"Great, the pleasure's all mine, y/n, I'll see you then." She waves once and disappears in the darkness of the hallway.

You, alone again, with the burden, getting heavier with each step, sigh loudly, loud enough for anyone on your floor to hear.

***

Matt and Foggy separate at the door of Josie's bar. Drinking a couple of old-fashioned never hurt either of them, no matter the day of the week. Matt planned to go to church, for another confession, the one people wouldn't even dare to call a confession. It was more likely a heart-to-heart chat with Father Lantom, who never failed to clear Matt's head. But Foggy was persistent on having a couple of drinks, sort of celebration for the new case they got. Tomorrow, they will meet Walter, although, from your reaction, it was clear that you don't want to face him again in the court. Why? You were full of mysteries, a real treasure for poets who write about brooding and broken women. 

From all that Matt has managed to gather, there was a defence mechanism in you - a sign that something has happened in the past, and now you find it hard to open yourself to others. He smiles to himself, his cane gently hits a street sign, he has met you like five times, and each time you manage to leave an impression on him. He could tell a lot about you now - you, just like him, cared for justice, and weren't the type to be easily bribed, unlike those other losers at Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz. That's what Matt appreciates most, although he hated to admit it to himself, he felt that powerful pull from you, the femininity that you radiated all over the place was getting into his head, he knew that every man in the courtroom was watching you, imagining you in various scenarios, favourable to them only. And every time, he felt the need to stand before you and shield you from everyone's eyes, or take a punch to his face. Why did this bother him so much all of a sudden? Maybe it was the alcohol talking to him, destroying his brain cells and critical thinking, making him one of them from the crowd. 

He shakes his head, gently pushing the doors of his flat and breathing in the smell of the apartment. Home. But home began lacking something - someone. A noise outside made him turn his head to the side - apparently thugs never sleep.

*** 

Spinning the almost empty glass of wine in your hand, you flip another page of Sally's divorce papers, but feel like you can't do anything today. That mysterious Vanessa has been in your head the whole evening, more specifically, her invitation to the exhibition. You laugh to yourself. Getting worked up over such a silly thing was definitely your character trait. You could go alone, it was not a big deal, just some stupid paintings and stupid rich people looking at them, pretending to be the experts of visuals and the storylines behind the paintings. And most of these rich people know you - that's the problem. You could call Pug, but he's too busy anyway. No other options were suitable, unless you could talk to Benowitz... But going in public with your boss would be too weird. 

Matt was the first person to cross your mind, but you immediately crossed him out - your gut has been telling you to stop whatever you were doing with him and get a better option... Option for what, though? You sip on your wine again. Why all of a sudden Murdock was all over the place in your tidy, clean life? It was stupid and childish, no matter how saint he might be, those cases against him almost cost you your career, and no one in their right mind would easily forgive that. 

Now you had a personal task - crush Murdock in court with Sally's case. Sally must divorce that freak Walter, and get good money for that too. 

What can you say, the feminism in you was still brightly burning. As well as the feeling of loneliness. 

[anerdquemoraaolado]

Better than Expected

Chapter 17

Spider felt like he'd chosen well to be with the Ash Clan now, despite how they were known among other peoples and his decision to stay with them had, in a way, made him the enemy of his former friends. The boy believed that they were still his friends and that an agreement could emerge between the clans and the people of the ash, he had to have faith in that, after spending time with them and getting to know them in depth.

There was something comforting and nostalgic and right about Spider being there, in Miles's opinion. The first thing was that he was with his family, the second was that by spending more time together he finally felt like he was making up for lost time. As Ash Warriors, they spent much of their time training and hunting, but also exploring the places Varang had once introduced Miles to.

-So, what do you think of Varang? - the father asked his son, in a calm moment in front of the Tree of Souls.

-Why the question now? - Spider was suspicious of the questioning.

"Because I wanted to hear from you," Miles explained.

-But you can deduce how I feel, right? You're not stupid! - the boy snapped.

-Look, a compliment for a change, that's very good to hear - Miles laughed openly - if you want to know, I'll say what I think, you feel good with her, despite her being very scary.

"No, she didn't scare me at all," Spider denied smugly.

-Oh yeah, smart guy? Because I know it's good to be afraid of her - Miles advised.

-That's exactly what she told me about you - the boy confessed, even more arrogantly - but I can't blame you, she's the boss and she orders everything around here.

-That's right, but what I mean by all this is that she really cares about you, like a son - the eldest assured.

-I know, I'm grateful to her for that, but mother is a very strong word - Spider took a more serious posture - as much as I didn't know mine, I don't think anyone would replace her anyway.

-Your mother is irreplaceable, you're right - Miles sat beside him, reflective - I always feel guilty thinking about her, I felt… now I feel that I did the right thing for Paz, for having you around and protecting you, the three of you.

-That's very good, Dad - Spider gave him a sincere smile in response.

"It is," he agreed.

-Varang may not be my mother, but she is a good foster mother, stepmother, anyway… - the boy shook his head - if she is the mother that Eywa gave me, I'm happy for that, I like her, even though she is scary sometimes.

-But she's funny and very sweet and affectionate when she wants to be, isn't she? - Miles completed.

-Yeah, I think you miss her a lot, isn't it right? It's even cute - the boy commented.

-I'm a powerful warrior, I'm not cute, son - Miles joked with him, even projecting himself forward and showing his fangs.

-Maybe we better go back, thanks for the chat - Spider thanked and led the way back home.

The return awaited them with some disquieting surprises.

As she said goodbye to Miles and Spider that morning, Varang felt more restless and her baby just as active. She knew her birth wasn't too far off. She then knelt down, asking Eywa that things would be different this time, and that just as the Great Mother had once promised her that she would bear her child, whatever happened at that moment.

Chanting an ancient chant of good fortune, Varang decorated herself with ash from the volcanoes that surrounded her home. Lines and curves around her eyes, forehead, chin, chest, arms and legs. Without delay, the tsahik of the tribe, with a group of midwives, came to attend to their leader. At the first cry of pain, they went to Varang, positioning and reassuring her. For the mother in labor, it was hard to ignore the fear she might have of losing her child again, but she would have to trust Eywa once more.

Varang could feel her child's struggle to get out and finally see the light on the other side, until the tsahik's hands reached for her child and pulled her out, giving relief to her mother's body and heart at the same time. Crying filled the place, she was a strong and healthy girl, with a peculiar characteristic, she had an extra finger on each hand and foot, like her father.

She was handed over to her mother, who kissed her on the head and thanked Eywa that everything went well after all, only wishing that Miles had been there to witness the moment. Her request was granted when his ears recognized the child's cry coming from his hut.

-My son iss born, your brother is born, Spider! - he said completely euphoric and emotional, running to the place.

He found the group of women, who made way for him and the boy. His vision filled with Varang and the small package in her hands.

-He's born, is he okay? - Miles questioned, approaching.

-She's fine, we're fine - Varang assured - she's a girl, she looks like you.

Looking closer, he realized what she was referring to.

"I hope that's not a problem," he worried, wondering if his daughter wouldn't be called mixed-race either.

"She is not, she is indeed a blessing, her father's daughter," Varang said proudly.

-What's her name? - Spider asked, looking further away, more quietly.

"I thought of Mawey," the child's mother replied.

-Who brought us calm and peace - Miles understood the meaning immediately - is very beautiful and perfect.

"I thought you would like it, live well, live bravely, live proudly, ma'ite, heir of fire and ash," Varang declared to her daughter, Mawey's father and brother silently agreeing with her.

[cookinguptales]

Hello, hi! I read your year in review post, and it inspired me to come say hello. I fell off Tumblr a few years ago and have tentatively crawled back over the last few months (honestly, it was the Goncharov craze that got me nostalgic for Tumblr again - I love Tumblr memes). I was really happy to see that you were active here and still writing fic for a new fandom that I also love!

I wanted to let you know that I'm a huge fan of your work and still am even after all these years! Your writing is so thoughtful and detailed, with a warmth and sincerity that makes it far too easy to consume a lot all at once, like a big mug of hot chocolate that you finish too quickly. Not just your creative writing, but your nonfiction blogging on fandom and health accessibility and travel too! I still go back and re-read some of my favorite fics you wrote when I'm feeling the itch to indulge in an old fandom! I had a big Muppet deep dive because I loved your fic so much, and now I go to work every day at a desk covered in Kermit stickers!

And I should have told you all of this a while ago. I regretted not reaching out for a long time. But now I have! And I hope you're okay with me being all mushy and earnest (how cringe!) out here in the open. If you don't want to post a response, I'm fine with that. I'm happy to just say hi, and I hope that my message brings you some joy/pride/whatever you need right now. Wishing you Merry Holidays and a Happy New Year!

Sorry for the delay! Life has kind of been a lot lately!

This is very sweet to hear, especially because... yeah, things have been a lot, and I've been struggling with feeling really down on myself. So thank you. Hearing that my fic feels like that makes me really happy. ;;

My dad literally just emailed me about a Bunsen & Beaker ornament set he found, so clearly I'm still into them. (I... bought it, too. haha. This is not even my only Bunsen & Beaker ornament.) The Muppets are a real comfort canon for me, so I'm really happy that I was able to share some of that with you.

Honestly, there's something that feels very... idk, genuine about writing and posting fanfic for me. I think fiction only works if you really give yourself over to it, whether that's getting really engrossed in the emotions of fictional characters as the writer or as the person reading it. I don't think it's cringe to be earnest about your feelings. What's the point, really, in being anything but earnest about them? I think it's nice to be able to be genuine about these things. So thank you for being genuine with me. I know that can feel a little vulnerable sometimes.

As for your second ask, which I also saw, anyone is free to DM me whenever they want. I'm not always... super great at responding promptly, especially right now. But yeah, we may not be friends yet, but talking is the only way to get closer. :)

(And you'll have to tell me what the new fandom we share is!)

[botheringlevi]

Hi Captain! I had some spare time yesterday and so I created a little playlist for you, based off the song recommendation I made the other day. I know you probably don't have a lot of time to just sit around and listen to music, so I tried not to add too many songs. I thought maybe you'd like to listen to them while you work or do chores, or maybe if you took a walk to clear your head.

I hope you're well. Take care.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4NYOMmgPzqOtbG2iMEfAow?si=lkmGoh-eTkCsJkL6lPTWrQ&utm_source=copy-link

I see. You didn't have to do that... but since you took an hour of your time, I should at least review them. I have too much time on my hands right now.

You already sent me the first one, so I already made up my mind about it, but one more time listening doesn't mean much considering the countless other times I've listened to it already.

Onto the second, the piano isn't bad. All the instruments combine once the song reaches its height, and the key-change isn't bad either. Average. Vienna is better.

The Admin shrieked when they found out I was listening to Another Love. A tearjerker for sure, as far as they're concerned. I'm not letting them read this... but it may be on par with Vienna. *Looks away* I guess I rank this one pretty highly.

I'm not from Iceland, so. As far as lyrics go, I'm at a loss. But the sound of the whole thing makes up for that. This could be an instrumental and still be worth my time. Same thing as the next one, but that makes sense with it being by the same artist.

(So far, these are all pretty depressing. Are you trying to say something about me?

...Nevermind.)

The next one almost put me to sleep—but not in a bad way. Not my thing, but it’s fine. The next one by Snow Patrol resides in that similar vein, but the piano is still a fine touch.

Next I see 'piano version’ on here, next to all the unmentioned pianos in these songs. You really took what I said to heart, didn’t you?

Letting Go. The lyrics especially are… *Hesitates* poetic. All the violins reminds me of an orchestra. It’s brilliant.

All in all, most of these are just my speed… As long as no one’s wailing into the microphone like in Particles. After Letting Go, my opinion more or less stands, so I won’t waste time repeating myself. They each sound... *Struggles* Tch. They're fine. Fine music to relax to.

All in all, I enjoy the playlist enough. So good job.