#that being said I know they have a potential replacement so I shouldn’t feel *that* bad

[iman-92]

handing my notice in tomorrow and i literally can’t eat thinking about it 😭😭 i know my manager is going to be shocked loool which is what I think makes it worse, this feels like 2020 again why are such small inconsequential things so anxiety inducing to me 🥹🥹🥹

[shycoconutt]

The Fallout

pairings: gojo satoru x reader (gojo pov)

synopsis: your best friend, gojo satoru, comes back from a mission to find out that nanami kento has resigned from being a sorcerer and has left you.

content: (2.5 k), SFW, comfort, fluff, and whole lot of angst. ex-boyfriend? nanami, best friend gojo, and brother geto. contains jjk anime spoilers.

a/n: and here we have the ripple effect series! this is the aftermath of this fic. i’m going to continuing writing this story over time so strap in y’all! staying away from chapters as we'll be jumping around the timeline.

<3

Although he would never be quick to admit it, Gojo Satoru loves being home. Even with all of the memories that flood his mind as he walks through familiar spaces — hallways, classrooms, the gymnasium, the sparing field, the courtyard — many are all too painful to think about for too long, but he can’t help but indulge in the familiarity. Satoru is not quite sure if he has ‘loved-ones’, but the people that are close to him, those that could potentially fill that void, he knows are here at Jujutsu Tech.

On his way home from a week-long mission, Satoru knew who to look for first, as he owed two specific sorcerers a very happy graduation. He didn’t know how exactly he was going to go about it at first. Obviously he would try to give Nanami a hug, no wait, maybe he will leap into his arms and shower his face with kisses. No, he wouldn’t be able to get that far before Nanami shoves him off. Maybe he shouldn’t scare him off, as it was highly likely that Nanami would become his right-hand man.

You, on the other hand, were a little different. Satoru couldn’t help but think about you every moment he was gone, as he couldn’t shake the guilt of him, your best friend, not being there for your graduation ceremony. The moment the mission paperwork was placed on his desk, he cursed the higher-ups for being so careless. The smile you gave him in reassurance that you understood only made him feel worse.

Making his way inside the main building, Satoru can’t help but notice the lack of cursed energy around. He feels you somewhere in the distance, in your dorm maybe? Are you alone?

He feels the familiar cursed energy of another quickly approaching, and turns to give Yaga a quick wave and a smile as he turns around the corner. Although Satoru’s eyes are currently covered in white wrapping, his six eyes allow him to see Yaga’s puzzled expression clearly.

“Gojo,” Yaga approaches him quickly, and Satoru begins to worry that he’s going to be sent out on a mission just as quickly as he returned, “you’re back, good.”

“What is it?” Satoru is worried, but his tone doesn’t reveal it, “You sound more serious than usual, I didn’t know that was possible.”

Satoru notices the way Yaga nervously pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and how his eyes are focused on the wood floor beneath their feet. Whatever this is, it’s not good.

“Some… events have transpired since you’ve been gone,” he starts, “have you heard the news?”

“I-uh.. no, I haven’t.” What on earth could this be about now? Satoru’s eyes widened slightly, a terrible thought crossing his mind, “Everyone is okay right?”

“Everyone is safe, Satoru, don’t worry about that.”

Satoru notices how he replaces the word okay with safe.

“I’m surprised she didn’t contact you,” Yaga begins, “I’m afraid I have some news about what transpired after graduation.”

Satoru stays silent, letting him continue.

Scratching the back of his head, Yaga lets out a deep sigh before speaking, “Nanami Kento has resigned. He is no longer a sorcerer and has vowed to not use any cursed energy any longer. He had a meeting with me before the ceremony, said that he would graduate, but his time with us would end there. He’s going to return to… normal life. We were told to not try and contact him, which includes you, Gojo.”

Instinctually, Satoru unravels the wrapping around his eyes, needing to be able to see everything, to absorb all the information. This couldn’t be.

He first looks for Nanami. No, he’s not here on campus, he’s somewhere else, he’s in… Kabutocho?

His eyes shift to you, pinpointing you more directly than he did before. Yes, you’re here. In your room, on your bed, in the fetal position, alone.

Alone.

Satoru feels a familiar pang in his chest. His grip tightens around the white fabric in his grasp, threatening to stain red.

Him. Yaga. In the hallway. A decision made without him, without considering what he’d have to say. What he could’ve done to make it better. How he could’ve helped. How he could have made him stay. Why didn’t he stay?

“I’m sorry, Gojo, but it was his decision, and he has the right to have the final say over his own life.” Yaga’s words are softer, trying to calm him down.

“To hell he does!”

-

Satoru slowly makes his way to your room, taking his time to gather his thoughts, not exactly sure what he plans to say to you. He tries to think back to before, the days and weeks after Suguru left. That situation was much different, so many layers, so many people affected by the loss. Although it’s hard to imagine, if anyone was hurt more than himself by Suguru's actions, it was you.

It was so much worse for you.

Suguru Geto, in an act of self righteousness, slaughtered his own parents, who were your own parents. A brother and sister who once shared the same home, the same beliefs and sentiments, the same blood, only to have one betray the other in one of the worst ways imaginable.

You tried to stop him, but you were weak then. When they found you, you were sprawled out on the floor unconscious in a pool of your parents blood. All of your limbs were broken, and you had severe head trauma. The only reason why you were still alive was because you were a sorcerer. Suguru would have finished the job otherwise.

When Satoru heard the news, and confronted Suguru on the street that day, all he had to say about the state he left you in had Satoru reeling.

“She’s a damn fool.”

Shoko spent days healing you, and you were in recovery for weeks. Satoru would visit, but no words would be exchanged. You already knew what the other was thinking. From then on, Satoru vowed to always take care of you, but he didn’t anticipate how close you two would become in the process.

Maybe it was a trauma bond, maybe it was just growing up, either way, he cherishes your friendship completely. You were like Suguru in so many ways, all of the good ones at least.

That’s probably why he was so quick to notice the way Nanami would look at you, the way he would act around you. How every word spoken to you was underlined with want. Much like the way he himself would act around Suguru.

So why? Why the hell would he leave you too?

Finally, he makes it to your door. Not sensing any movement, he figures it’s best to let himself in quietly.

It’s midday, but the room is so dark. Your curtains are drawn and the lights are off. Just a small sliver of light makes its way through, the line resting over your body on the bed in the corner of your room and up the wall of posters. Your eyes are closed, but Satoru’s gut tells him you’re not sleeping.

He steps closer, letting the door close behind him with a faint click. That’s when your eyes quickly snap open to find Satoru at the end of your bed.

Your eyes are bloodshot. There are black smudges over your eyelids, makeup probably. Your hair is a mess. And you're wearing… a dress?

Oh. Oh darling. It’s been days.

Satoru can’t help the way his head tilts to the side when he meets your gaze.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, trying his best not to let his despair for you seep through.

That’s when he sees it, the accumulation of the past three days, and maybe even a bit of your past, boils and bubbles out of you.

“Toru,” your nickname for him falls from your mouth in a gasp, then you start to sob. He watches as you curl into yourself more, gripping your sheets tighter to your chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Satoru moves around the bed and leans over you, fingers brushing the hair from your face to get a better look, “shhhhhhhhhh, hey, shhhhh, it’s alright, it’s going to be okay.”

His heart breaks for you. This world, being a sorcerer, is often so cruel. He just doesn’t understand why it always has to be you on the receiving end.

Satoru watches as you look up to meet his concerned stare, and he can’t help but notice how similar you two look. It’s not specifically your features that remind him of Suguru, it’s how you try so hard to hide your emotions behind your usual calm facade. When his eyes meet yours, he can tell how hard you're trying to shove your pain back inside you. For who’s sake? He’s still unsure.

Satoru was too dumb, too caught up in ensuring he became ‘the greatest’ to notice how far Suguru had fallen from grace. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

He doesn’t wait for you to explain. Kneeling down on the floor of your bedside, he rests his head on the mattress, face inches from yours. His fingers play with the ends of your hair as he looks in your eyes.

“Yaga told me what happened,” he starts, “I wish you would have called me, but I understand why you didn’t. I just got back not too long ago, I was expecting to find you two together.”

Finally, you speak again.

“Did he… did he say anything to you about leaving?” Your eyes leave Satoru’s as you ask this, probably afraid of what you might hear. Gojo smiles internally at the way you begin to fiddle with the end of his sleeve.

“No,” Satoru’s tone is unwavering, “he never said anything to me about leaving. I’m led to believe that this is a decision he made in his mind not too long ago.”

Satoru and Nanami were not close, per se. But Satoru knows him to be a good man, and he would have never strung you along like this if he knew he was leaving from the jump.

At least, that’s what he hopes.

He watches as your body relaxes a little, sinking deeper into your mattress. He knows that you’re probably not ready to talk about everything just yet, and that’s more than okay. What wasn’t okay was that state you’re in right now.

“I know this is the last thing you want to do, but how about I take you to the showers?” His hand comes up from the ends of your hair to cradle the top of your head.

“Do I really smell that bad?” you fake pout. Your lips curl up just enough to relieve just a little of Satoru’s worries.

“Ha, no, I just think it would make you feel better.”

“Hm, yeah okay.”

Satoru gives you space as you rise up from bed, walking to your drawers to pull out some new clothes to wear. He notices how you dig far down into the drawer, obviously looking for something specific. His heart sinks when you pull out a familiar pair of large black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

How strange that we still find comfort in those who have hurt us the most.

Satoru walks with you to the communal showers, leading you just a step ahead with his hands in his pockets. His head hurts a little from having his blindfold off for so long, but he doesn’t want to put it on just yet. Maybe it’s his way of letting you know that you have the floor to be vulnerable with him, to look him in the eyes and know you have his undivided attention.

Satoru hears you softly clear your throat before speaking.

“What are you going to do now?” you ask timidly.

Please don’t leave me yet. That’s what Satoru knows you really mean.

He thinks for a moment.

“Well since I just got back, I think I’ll have a quick shower as well, get this curse stench off of me. Then, I'm going to take Megumi and Tsumiki out to dinner since I haven’t seen them in a week. Probably check up on their place too, restock the fridge and whatnot.”

Satoru watches as you shift in your stance a little, hugging your fresh clothes to your chest.

“Of course, they will want to see you. If you’re up for it.”

Your face lights up, just a little. Good.

The kids, especially Megumi, are absolutely smitten with you. Ever since Satoru told you that he became the benefactor of two young kids, one to be sold off to the Zenin, you asked him if you could tag along to visit them.

Saying yes was the best thing he’d ever done, because he quickly realized that he’s kind of a terrible parental figure. He handles the finances and the fun, you take care of everything else. You help them with their homework, brush their hair, pick out their clothes, cuddle them, read them stories, teach them how to cook, and so much more. Although you both are relatively young yourselves, you’re like their parents.

Heck, after this, Satoru thinks it might be best to get you out of living at Jujutsu High. He’ll buy a house for you and the kids, so you can all be together. Yeah, it might be weird in the future if you bring a romantic interest home, but you can cross that bridge when you get there.

“Yeah, I want to see them. It will help take my mind off things.”

“Then it’s settled,” Satoru playfully claps his hands together, “we’ll hit the showers, change, and head out of here.”

Satoru turns on his heels, but before he starts to walk away, he feels you grab him by the elbow. Turning his head back at you with a confused look, your eyes are shield by the hair fallen in front of your face. In one swift movement, you’re hugging him from behind, one arm wrapped around his torso, holding him close.

“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you mumble into the fabric of his jacket.

Satoru places his hand over yours.

“I’ll always be here for you, sweets.”

-

Both of you walk together in matching sweats, owned by the man who once was the only thing you had in common, towards the apartment. It is late afternoon, the sun now behind the mountains to the west. It’s warm with a light breeze in the air. If circumstances weren’t as they were, you’d be so happy right now.

The silence was nice, comforting. You look over to watch Satoru’s hair ruffle in the breeze, getting a whiff of his sickly, sugary-scented vanilla shampoo.

It crosses your mind for a moment how thankful you are that he’s here with you right now. Without him, you’d still be rotting in bed, picturing the back of Nanami’s head as he walked away from you in the courtyard that day.

Nanami.

Your heart lurches a little. You bring your hand up to your chest, clutching the fabric there.

As if on cue, you feel Satoru’s arm sling over your shoulders, holding you closer to him as you walk side by side.

Right, Satoru’s here and you’re content.

Content is all you need.

[lizzyscribbles]

You know what I realized yesterday through an event that I desire to never deal with again in my entire life?? Toga’s parents really did suck.

Today’s Rambling Thought: Toga, and why her parents deserve hell.

Picture this, it’s the evening, I’m getting ready to get on a discord call with my friend because we’ve been watching MHA together and we usually chat between episodes (it’s their first time watching the show, we’re in season three). I go to use the bathroom and what do I find?? Remnants!!! Of a bird!! I’m not talking about a few feathers here, I’m talking bones, a pile of internal organs, and a half mutilated wing covered in blood and God knows what else. Completely dismembered. Of course, there are two potential culprits in this crime scene, both cats. (I should mention these aren’t my cats, I was watching them for a friend), but I’m pretty sure the one circling my feel and meowing proudly is the one. So, I get to clean up bird guts at like 8PM, trying my hardest not to gag.

AND YOU KNOW WHAT I DID TO THE POTENTIAL CRIMINAL??

Nothing. I patted his head and gave him a scratch.

All this delightful context to put into perspective this realization that came to me later that night, how is it that I - someone who actually had to clean up a mutilated bird - nicer to a cat that ISN’T MY OWN than Toga’s parents were TO THEIR OWN DAUGHTER. Now I’m no saint, and I realize a cat and a human are completely different, but come on, for real guys?

I don’t think we’re told how old Toga is in the scene where she’s offering her parents the bird (if you know please share) but we know she’s a little kid. Like I’ve said before, I’m studying psychology in college and I worked with kids in foster care, so if I know anything at all it’s this: Children are little sponges, and they automatically want to do whatever it is you tell them not to do. It’s a natural part of development, and actually something we don’t really lose as we get older (the specific term is rebel psychological reactance I think). So it’s really no surprise that after years and years of being told nothing but no when it came to these urges she had, she eventually just snapped. The kids I worked with were the same, the longer they were in the shelter I worked at the less they felt inclined to listen when we told them no, and I don’t think I need to explain why that’s dangerous.

Now, I’m not saying that consuming another’s blood as a child or gnawing on yourself in your sleep is normal behavior or something a parent shouldn’t be concerned about, but there’s a reason therapy focuses on replacing negative coping skills with positive ones. Did they ever go beyond just calling her weird and creepy? Did they take her to a doctor get a blood test and find out if maybe there’s a reason she was doing this beyond just being freaky? Does she have an iron deficiency?? I’m just rambling now and that’s pure speculation, but no, they just kinda insulted her over and over, told her not to, and sent her to quirk counseling which IS NOT a substitute for actual therapy I’m sure. The bottom line here is that you can’t take something away and not add anything in. You can’t tell someone not to do something and not supplement it with something else.

It’s little wonder that once she snapped, she went straight to “I just want to do whatever I want”, because she spent her whole life being told not to be something. I think it’s easy to forget that Toga is still legally a child at the start of the series, one who has not been taught how to safely deal with her urges. No wonder she felt more at home with the league of villains, they gave her what she never got. No wonder Ochaco’s actions in the final chapter shocked her so much. She was never accepted for who she was until then. She was never treated like she was a normal person.

The people who were supposed to love her most in the world saw her as a disease to be rid of, and I that disgusts me more than a dead bird ever will.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk, I’m gonna go ramble about how, as an author and a fan, I love her end even if it makes me so sad, and Ochaco’s part in it.

[humbledragon669]

S1E1 – In The Beginning Write Up P3

– Five Years Later (allegedly) and The Present Day

Alright so let’s address the elephant in the room here shall we? The signpost tells us, in no uncertain terms, that the story line has moved on by five years. I have a serious issue with that assertion, and it’s not just because this is in direct contradiction to the storyline in the book. It goes a little something like this:

I cannot believe that Aziraphale and Crowley have left the Antichrist alone for the first five years of his life.

Even if we’re generous here and say that Crowley steps in to replace a nanny that has been present for Warlock’s early years, it simply doesn’t make any sense that they would have sat back and let him develop on his merry way for the most influential years of his life (sorry Neil, but I will die on this hill). The book’s timeline here makes a lot more sense – that both Aziraphale and Crowley are inserted into Warlock’s life within a week of his birth, Aziraphale as the gardener and Crowley as the nanny. At the age of five, they both leave and return immediately as tutors for him, ensuring that they are both present for his entire childhood. With that in mind, I’m going to do something potentially controversial and adopt the book timeline as fact. It just makes more sense. Also that will make my fanfic ideas not only possible but genuinely really feasible. Honestly, I don’t know why the timeline deviates from the book here – this matter aside, the series is a truly excellent adaptation of the book (judged by the fact that I never said “that’s not how it happened in the book” for the whole of series 1. There are a lot of media writers that could learn a lot from Neil on this point – I’m looking at you Discovery of Witches series 2 creative team).

There are two things I find interesting about the short scene that follows (no, one of them is not how well David carries off a skirt, though I do really appreciate the Mary Poppins reference with that costume). Firstly, the positioning of Aziraphale as a gardener. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that the idea of a garden is brought up again, but I can’t quite make the connection myself. Perhaps there isn’t meant to be one. That said, I would have thought, given his character, Aziraphale might have been more suitable as something like a butler (it would even give him the opportunity to steal food!), which would likely give him more opportunity to interact with Warlock throughout his childhood, so I do feel like there’s something here.

On a tangential (and impossible-to-be-related) note, I saw Nye a few days ago (a play about the founder of the NHS, starring Michael, for those who don’t know what this is) and there was a line in it about Nye and his wife believing their love to be like a garden – he planted the love and she tended to it. It was truly beautiful and touching. I felt like I had a sort of light bulb moment about gardens in GO and then realised that the two productions have nothing to do with one another!

The second thing I noted about this sequence is more something of note than something that has meaning. Having discussed the music/soundtrack for this series in a previous write up, it should come as no surprise that there is a cute little parallel here: the melody Crowley uses for the lullaby he sings to Warlock is the same as the melody for the second motif in the theme tune. It’s slowed down quite considerably, but still recognisable.

Original theme:

Lullaby:

I have to say, I’m a little disappointed we don’t get to hear the rendition of “Three Little Pigs” that we’re treated to in the book. I am not ashamed to say that I laughed very long and very hard when I read it – I have a pretty dark sense of humour. Perhaps this was a little too much for the good ol’ BBC?

Quick item of note from the next scene at Heaven/Hell HQ – this series has escalators instead of an elevator. I had originally assumed that this was the same building as we see being used in series 2 to gain access to Heaven but looking at the background when Crowley and Aziraphale enter the building, it’s clear that it’s a completely different building, which just makes me wonder where exactly the HQ entrance is. There’s a really clever piece of editing at use here too, one which I actually didn’t spot until I was doing this write up.

I hadn’t noticed previously that the duplicate image of the escalator on the floor of the lobby ISN’T a reflection of the physical escalators. On the left, we can see Crowley’s image on a set of escalators going down, whilst we see no reflection of Aziraphale. We even get to see Crowley approach the escalator in the “reflection” after he disappears through the floor, whilst Aziraphale’s reflection disappears from the floor as he approaches the stairs, and both of these things happen as they walk across an area that ripples like water under their feet. I don’t think there’s any hidden meaning in this, I just think it’s a really cool piece of film.

When we see the angel and demon giving their reports to their respective head offices, it’s made clear to us that neither authority has any awareness of their collaboration. In fact, Aziraphale is still held in high esteem by Gabriel and Michael (though perhaps not Uriel and Sandalphon – those two always look like someone just pissed on their nice suits) and is even given permission to continue on his apparently futile mission. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of Crowley, but as Liggur said earlier in the episode, it would be a funny thing if demons could trust one another anyway.

It’s nice to see that Heaven isn’t so busy that it can’t produce a newspaper for its earthbound agents, complete with weak headlines, worthy of any local rag:

I do not think it a coincidence that the newspaper has been given the title of “Observer” – after all, it’s pretty much all they do up there isn’t it? Watch people? Other than planning Armageddon I mean…

The short scene on the bus also shows us a little more of the dynamic between Crowley and Aziraphale when it comes to planning. It’s clear that the angel is relying on the demon to lead the way and he looks really worried when it’s made apparent that Crowley doesn’t have a plan for a potential emergency situation.

Quick note about the Hell Hound – he’s being housed in a room with a number on it – 2549. Does this mean there have been 2548 Hell Hounds before him? Hastur certainly indicates that he isn’t the only Hell Hound they have (but he is the biggest). Where are the rest of them?

The conversation (which takes place in the grounds of Crystal Palace Dinosaur Park - the repeated reference to dinosaurs being a big joke in this scene is not lost on me) on the park bench is the first time we hear Crowley call Aziraphale by the name “Angel”. Neil has confirmed (here and here) that this isn’t anything other than a factual name to use but I can’t help but feel like it’s affectionate. It’s certainly very familiar and it’s interesting to see that Aziraphale doesn’t repay the favour; perhaps this is to do with the meaning of the words – after all, calling someone “demon” doesn’t feel very polite, does it? Or perhaps it’s just that “Aziraphale” is a bit of a mouthful to say. This is also the first time we are let in to the secret of them having their own side:

AZIRAPHALE: And if he does name it? CROWLEY: Then you and I have lost.

The conversation around the potential murder of an 11-year-old boy presents an interesting side of the relationship between the pair. I don’t think I’m alone in thinking that the suggestion that Aziraphale is capable of killing an innocent child (even if he is the Antichrist) is nothing short of laughable, and Crowley would know this. This suggestion is shared with a rare occurrence of Crowley communicating “secretly” with Aziraphale where the angel doesn’t get the message, and the irony is that Crowley isn’t even being that subtle about it. There’s no doubt that Aziraphale really doesn’t get the drift though:

It’s painful to watch Aziraphale’s thought process here. He knows that Crowley’s logic actually makes sense but he can’t tally that with his own moral compass – it’s a struggle that I think the vast majority of us would go through if put in the same position. Sadly, it’s not like Crowley has much other choice than to suggest Aziraphale does the deed – if he were to do it himself, the repercussions for him would be unthinkable. It’s clear that this is the first time he has raised this idea in the eleven years they’ve been doing this job together and he can’t even say it without his voice breaking (see “one life against the universe”), and once it’s clear that Aziraphale isn’t open to the idea he doesn’t push him or lose his temper. He watches Aziraphale carefully for the whole exchange, without changing his expression, which I take to mean he’s watching for any signs that he’s pushing him too far.  All of this tells me he’s only done it because they’re getting desperate.

Alright, it’s time to move on to the little “magic” routine. I find this whole sequence adorable - can we say 1941 vibes? I do find it interesting just how quickly Aziraphale’s mood changes with the idea of him being able to perform some magic again – he’s gone from the contemplation of the ethics of an actual trolley problem (see here if you don’t know what that is) to a smiling, bubbly angel complaining that his companion is “no fun” in mere seconds. For someone who lives their life in eons of centuries instead of years or decades, he’s a remarkably fickle being! It’s pretty blurry in this shot, but just look how happy this angel is:

The hidden communication thread is resumed at normal operation here as Crowley knows exactly what Aziraphale means when he says he could “entertain” – he knows exactly what he means by this and is not amused by the implications.

I also find Crowley’s use of the word “demeaning” an interesting choice here. Usually we might say embarrassing; in fact the dictionary definition of demeaning is to lower the character of somebody, or to make them feel less respected. Whilst I can fully understand why Crowley might be embarrassed by Aziraphale’s pathetic attempts at illusionary magic, I am less clear on why he would find it demeaning. UNLESS. Unless my suppositions about the state of their relationship are correct, in which case they would have already been together (romantically) for almost eleven years at this point. Then it makes a weird sort of sense.

The comic little squabble that follows also makes perfect sense in this context. This couple are in no mood to compromise on this matter; Aziraphale will not be told that he’s a shit magician because he has too much fun doing it (this despite the fact that we know he and Crowley agreed he shouldn’t do magic anymore, but unlike in 1941, there’s no risk of anybody getting hurt if he drops a coin on the floor) and Crowley will not concede that he’s being a killjoy (which goes quite against his character). The spat concludes with Crowley delivering a passive-aggressive threat to Aziraphale, which you can see he instantly reconsiders with a head tilt - probably wise considering how unimpressed the angel is with it.

Side note: the watch that Crowley is wearing (seen at Warlock’s birthday party) appears to be a Devon Tread 1 A, coming in at a cool 18.5K (dollars). The book does make mention of his watch being fucking fashionably expensive but it was custom made for him, with an extra time zone for “Another Place” where the time is always “Too Late”.

Another side note: how many dens did you make as a child? A fair few I’d bet if you were anything like me. Did they ever look as cool as the one that The Them has? Me neither. I mean, just look at all those guns and skeletons used for decoration:

Once we’re back at the book shop, I find it interesting that Aziraphale is intending to imbibe (we don’t actually see him drink any of it) whatever spirit he’s given to Crowley. I’ve no doubt it’s good quality, it’s just unusual to see him drinking hard liquor – perhaps this is simply due to the seriousness of the situation he finds himself in. Their conversation about lying in memos to head office also suggests that Crowley might not be the only one lying to his bosses:

CROWLEY: Everyone stretches the truth a bit in memos to head office, you know that.

Is it me, or is there a sense of “I told you so” to Aziraphale’s lack of sympathy towards Crowley’s despair? Some might say it’s reminiscent of the way a stereotypical nagging wife speaks to their long-suffering husband when he’s done something wrong…

In amongst the dark threat of impending Armageddon, we’re still treated to a little comedy (and perhaps another Clue as to the current status of the relationship between the angel and demon). Crowley’s snappy, and ill-considered, outburst in response to Aziraphale’s almost apologetic confession that he’s wearing a new cologne is well worth a word or two. Let’s say for a second that this pair are not romantically involved at this point in time – is it not a bit strange to think that the person you’re with knows you so well that they would detect that you’re wearing a different perfume than usual? I would think you’d have to be spending a LOT of time in VERY close proximity to that person for that piece of information to be anywhere near their radar. And what’s with the angel’s apologetic tone? Why would you feel the need to be sorry about trying out a new cologne? Aziraphale doesn’t look particularly shocked when Crowley announces that he knows what he smells like, and Crowley’s tone and facial expression suggests he thinks this piece of knowledge is a pretty obvious one.

Here’s my last observation for this episode. Check out just how earnest Crowley is in this delivery:

Despite Aziraphale’s response that he thinks he obviously would, I don’t really feel like he believes this stance, and he’d do anything not to believe that what Crowley is saying is true.

And so concludes the first episode! If you’ve made it this far through my write-up(s) so far, I commend and thank you. I’ll start work on the next episode over the next few days, but in the meantime I’ll also write a master post that I’ll add to as I go along. As always, comments, questions, discussions and any other engagements are welcome.

[lake-archive]

Scene 50

AO3 Link

Fandom: Persona 5

Character (main): Anja / Luka (OC), Goro Akechi

Scene 49 - Masterlist - Scene 51

Goro didn’t know what exactly had overcome him. Sure, he was certainly not going to sit there idly and let this idiot rest on the ground, especially not in her condition. Even when already seeing them from afar he had assumed the worst yet when it happened it had hit him like a sack of bricks. Everything came crashing down, just around the moment they were crashing down. He had not hesitated for even a second, dashing over and yelling without thinking. “What the— Anja!? Get up! Anja! I said get up! You idiot!”

Goro didn’t know why but it had him  panicking pretty much instantly. He didn’t know how to respond to his own thoughts..Images flashed back, in his mind he was screaming for a short moment. Rationality had been thrown out the window entirely and replaced with whatever had been going on inside his head by then. He didn’t know, the thoughts were all jumbled up. There was not much he thought of back then, even if it was just for a few minutes. Without thinking he had carried them away, back to his place. Though he had arrived before knowing it and the damage had been already done. He would have to explain this later if anyone had even paid attention to it, though he prayed that this wasn’t the case.

And yet it was all hard to believe, even after they had left. Goro didn’t know where his head was these days. Well, at least when he was spending time around them… Which he pretty much had to do nowadays. There was less and less of an escape. At least alone it was difficult to keep his cool. Was there some weird fascination? Because there were times where they just plopped up… Ah, he didn’t understand it yet he wanted to. He had his theories yet none sounded plausible. This was just stupid. Of course he dropped those thoughts pretty quickly in favor of other things. All of this kept him distracted from something so unnecessary. Yet it would hit his head again and when it did it became hard to focus. Luckily he was used to keeping his act up so it wasn’t so bad at the end. Even if he just… Didn’t understand it. What was it with them in particular?

Hah… Dwelling on it won’t work. Even Goro wasn’t this stupid. This wasn’t just about them being a potential threat to him anymore. Of course that was still there. The sharpness alone had him on the edge so he had to try his best to conceal certain evidence from them or they might be on his trail soon enough… If they bother with it. But if it was just that he could have gotten rid of them… Right? That was the part which had not added up for him. 

If he wanted it would not be too difficult to dispose of them without a trace. But why didn’t he? Why did he keep them close? A person where he is always a few moments away from cracking, even now. "Were your parents even alright bringing me over here?” – A question he couldn’t bear. The circumstances were something he didn’t want to think about, especially in regards to his own mother. It was odd. Despite this uncomfortable feeling overcoming his body at that moment he just wanted to crack and fill them in. He wanted to tell them the circumstances with his mother at least. How she was no longer around… It was odd that he wanted to open up to them of all people.

But he didn’t. No, he couldn’t. He needed to keep the distance. He shouldn’t tell them something like that. He wanted to but he wasn’t going to. They needed to know their place, that the two weren’t that close. He couldn’t be that close to someone. He wouldn’t allow himself to do that. He had to resist the temptation, not cracking… He was playing this game for years, he can keep it up a little longer. Yeah. They shouldn’t change that.

And yet, even now it had crossed Goro’s mind. He was just sitting at his desk inside the room he had dedicated to his work. Yet he couldn’t focus, he knew that. The thoughts were all racing and he just couldn’t keep himself focused, at all. It was annoying. He felt like punching in the next best wall or something, anything to let out his frustration. This pain in the ass… How dare they shoving themself into his life and make an utter mess out of him? He hated this, all of it. But even if he hated it he couldn’t get himself away from them. Something made him stay in the end, much to his own dismay. And that was what made this so irritating. 

“This idiot messes up everything even without being around…” He mumbled out loud, though obviously to himself. He was all alone at his place after all, he always was. There was no one else. 

Goro sat back in his chair, looking in front of his desk, feeling the grimace on his face. “I’ll call it a day.” He had no other choice here.  Or so he told himself. Then again, with a lack of focus it was not a good idea to keep going.

He closed the laptop in front of him and stood up, heading out of the room. He was greeted with an empty sight, as always, the living room being as vacant as it could be. There was not much around, he didn’t need it. Besides, he was too busy with work as well as shaping his image, being the ideal person the public wants to see. There was little time for him to indulge in personal things. And yet… This empty feeling… Hah no, whatever. Who even cares?

He sat down on the couch for a moment, not doing anything at all. Though it then crossed his mind… Right, the condition they were in earlier. He should check up, shouldn’t he? That idiot better not have collapsed anywhere as promised…

‘Hey. Are you alright?’

‘Akechi–Kun! What a surprise! You’re still awake!?’

Upon receiving this text he noticed his eyes widen for a moment and an odd sense of relief washing over him. Yet he brushed it aside quickly, wishing to ignore it. No, he wasn’t doing this because he was being genuine. He had to do it. Yeah, it was just that… An obligation. Nothing more. 

‘Work doesn’t do itself, does it?’

‘Well, I suppose it doesn’t. 

You should go to bed though!’

‘Look who’s talking.

Don’t you stay up until morning?’

‘Ah– Not this time! I promise!’ They promised huh? He could only look skeptical at the screen of his phone with that one. Though soon enough he received another message from them. ‘I want to recover quickly so I can get back to work again! You’re busy enough as it is!’

He clicked his tongue for a moment. This behavior is the one which irritated him the most. Why do they have to act as if they cared? ‘Thank you for your concern. But I’ll manage.’

‘No buts! I’ve accepted so I’m in this too! 

I gotta do my part, deal or not!’

‘You’re sure dedicated.’

‘I don’t want to be a burden is all.

Anyways, no holding anything up. go to bed!’

‘I think that’s my line.’

‘I will I will! 

Night!’

‘Good night.’

He then closed the message app, staring at the screen of his phone a few more moments before being about to toss it aside… But no, he just placed it down, staring into the empty space he was in.

“What is this idiot doing to me?”

Scene 49 - Masterlist - Scene 51

[aurosoul]

I just had a thought looking at Starfucker Super Trans 2000! A lot of the stuff I’ve seen you work on in AR has been human scale—I assume for practical reasons.

But theoretically, there’s no real reason you shouldn’t be able to create something and then scale it up to be big, right?

My first thought, of course, being that you could theoretically draw a version of Starfucker Super Trans in Figmin XR and then scale it up to actual size! (Though depending on the scale of the game you might need a nice field or parking lot for that XD)

My second thought being that if AR does become more commonplace like you dream, what an educational opportunity! I mean, it’s one thing to say “a blue whale is as long as two school buses put together”, and another to actually take your kid outside and plop down a life-sized model right in front of their eyes!

I think you’re right, AR really does have potential to make a lot of things more accessible. After all, technology tends to become cheaper and more available over time. Maybe someone can’t travel across the country to see a big museum, but they can rent an AR set and plop down a smithsonian dinosaur skeleton in a nearby parking lot!

And going back to the blue whale; giving kids these experiences with animals they might not be able to see otherwise can help give them an appreciation for nature, so they’re more motivated to preserve what’s right around them as they grow up! Say, draw them in with whales, and then show them the kind of fish that live in rivers around them and how beautiful they are too! Make a field trip of it!

AR just holds so much potential as a tool to introduce new experiences, I think. The way you use it especially gives me hope; your work has a feel of wonder to it.

One of my biggest concerns about AR is that it will have a similar effect as the internet, where we rely too much on it, moving too much from the physical world to the digital. You see studies as well that are finding developmental problems coming from not having enough interactions with the physical world. But, the way you mix your work with nature, talk about how while it could be used to replace some toys—making it easier to fulfill the remaining demand sustainably—it also can serve as an introduction for people to find interests they want to pursue more seriously with physical components… I really think we can introduce it to good effect.

I've been sitting on this ask for ages because I wanted to record a video showing a life-sized mech in response to it - but I just wanna say

YES, YES, A MILLION TIMES YES to ALL of this!!!!! 😭💖💖💖

messages like these are what makes my work so worth it, because every word of what you said here is EXACTLY what I'm trying to communicate with everything I do.

early on, the founder of Figmin XR (Javier Davalos) understood that people can't just be told that this technology will change the world for the better - they have to realize it for themselves. so he applied for the first Magic Leap grant, won it, and then got to work creating a software to help people do just that.

everything you've mentioned above is either already in development or already starting to be implemented in schools, museums, workshops - even summer camps!! and I know this because I've been working directly with the people organizing these things, helping to teach them how to use Figmin to teach others. :)

the future will be more digital than it already is today, yes, but that doesn't automatically make it a dystopia. I've said it before and I'll say it again - technology is just a tool, and there are many, many people creating new ways to use it for good.

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter)- Ch. 13: Chit Chat

“Mom said ‘if a boy can’t see the beauty within then he’s not worth it.’” Jane complains from across the room.

We’re in Mal and Evie’s dorm, with Mal flipping through her spellbook on her bed and Evie sewing a new dress at her desk.

I try to give some comfort. “Believe me, Jane. Magic is not always the answer to getting what you want. If anything it can sometimes make things worse. Trust me, being your true self without magic is the right way to go.” Without using siren magic!

“Boyfriends are so overrated,” Mal says smugly. “You don’t need one.”

“How could you know, Mal? You’ve never had one,” Evie points out, then suddenly gets a wild look in her eyes. “Oh no! I forgot to do Chad’s homework!” She scrambles up to grab her backpack while Mal just rolls her eyes.

“And that is what I mean.”

“Evie, I’m telling you- Chad is just a dumb jock who’s looking for someone to do his homework!”

“But he says that once I’ve got all the work done then we’ll go on a date,” Evie states dreamily.

I throw my arms out. “He’s just saying you might go on a date so you’ll do his homework!”

Evie crosses her arms and pouts, while Mal looks at me with a respected nod of agreement.

“What about you, Magica? Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Evie asks.

I scoff and wave it off. “Definitely no. I’ve never had time nor the patience for love.”

“Really? That is so sad!” Evie runs over and gives me a hug. 

“No it’s not. It’s smart,” Mal drones.

“But if you had to find someone now, who would it be?”

Evie’s question comes out of nowhere and takes me off guard. My brain fizzes for a moment and I say the first person who pops into my head, the only person I could ever see making me happy.

“Carlos- wait!” I slap a hand over my mouth just as I realize what I’ve just said. Now Evie has a giddy look on her face while Mal’s jaw has dropped in surprise.

“I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! You always have that look when he’s around, and-”

“Shush!” I hold a finger to my lips. “You cannot tell anyone! Especially Carlos! It’s bad enough I’m letting these… feelings get the best of me. If Carlos finds out he’ll think I’m a creepy flirt!”

“But what if he felt the same?” Evie suggests.

I roll my eyes. “Do not insult me with such false hopes. I’d sooner be dead than find love, much less be fortunate to have a nice guy like Carlos love me back.”

Now Jane gets into the mix. “Magica, why would you say something like that? You’re such a nice, amazing person! If any guy can’t see that, he’s blind.”

Evie nods. “Just tell Carlos how you feel and get it off your chest, and if he doesn’t feel the same then we’ll bully him into feeling guilty about it.”

I quickly wave my hands in denial, already panicking. “No, no! This is exactly why I shouldn’t have friends-”

The door flies open, and Lonnie comes bouncing in to save me from anymore embarrassments.

“Hey guys! I’m Lonnie, Mulan’s daughter! I heard from Magica that you did her hair, and then did Jane’s hair. And I know you hate us and, well… you’re evil… But do you think you could do mine?”

Mal frowns. “And why would I do that for you?”

Lonnie holds up her purse. “I’ll pay you $50?”

“Good answer, I need more material!” Evie grabs the cash and starts contemplating what new style to give Lonnie while I watch Mal flip through her spellbook again, hoping to catch a glimpse of any other spells- potentially dangerous spells.

“Beware, forswear, replace the old with cool hair,” Mal chants from the book. Sure enough Lonnie’s hair grows into curls with highlights, and when she sees her reflection her smile widens.

“I… I love it! Just one more thing-” She grabs her skirt and rips the edge, almost causing me to cry out in protest. “Now I’m cool!”

In a few minutes she and Jane leave, saying that they had to go show off Lonnie’s new look.

“Ok ok, now… Back to Chad’s homework…” Evie stresses as she goes back to her desk.

I go to stand in the corner and shake my head. “Evie, Chad is bad news. Just let him go!”

“Yeah, Doug tried to warn me too.” Evie sighs.

“Wait, Doug? Hm… So tell me, what do you think of him?” I start to smile.

“He’s… well… Oh, Mal! Doug said that they use the wand at some coronation thing!” Evie completely forgets my question.

The door opens again and Carlos and Jay bound in, with Carlos carrying Dude with him.

“Check out the new jersey!” Jay proudly presents his Auradon Prep tourney uniform.

I clap my hands excitedly. “Fantastic job, Jay! And Carlos, what did coach say?”

Carlos comes over with Dude, and it’s all I can do to avoid looking at Evie’s teasing glance.

“He says I can play! Ben must’ve told him about my training, and Dude’s been helping me with my cardio! Isn’t that right, buddy?” He scratches the mutt’s ears.

“Congratulations! I can’t wait to see-”

“Guys, remember why we’re here,” Mal calls from her bed. “We don’t have time for all this school stuff.”

I frown at Carlos. “What else would you guys be here for?”

All the VKs suddenly get very anxious looks, and I’m starting to think they’re keeping something from me. But what would VKs know-? Oh no. No! They couldn’t… Do they know who my mom is?

“We’re here to… get a better feel of Auradon,” Mal tries to explain. “And… we can’t really do that when we’re trapped in this school, can we?”

“Um, no. I suppose not.” This is freaking me out- what are they hiding?!

“We got this…” Jay tries out the new style of encouragement. “...If we all stick together.”

“And we won’t go back until we’re done, because we’re rotten.” Mal smirks. “To the core.”

“To the core!” The other VKs echo.

At attempts to contribute something and not be another third wheel, I say the first piece of wisdom that comes to mind.

“Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.” 

All the VKs look at me as if I’ve sprouted wings, and before I can blab anymore I try to start walking towards the door. But Carlos grabs my hand and pulls me back.

“That’s really good. Where did you hear that?” He says with a curious smile.

I look at the floor and state with a small, prideful voice: “Ecclesiastes 5: 9-10.”

“From the Bible?” Jay asks. “I thought you witch folk weren’t too into that stuff.”

Evie gasps. “Jay? Why would you say that?”

I wave my hand. “No no, it’s fine. I know that sorcery gets a bad rap in the whole religious department, but the Holy Book actually has a lot of good teachings. I’m trying to be a good witch, remember?”

“Why would they let a wicked witch into Auradon Prep?” Mal asks smugly.

“Good point.”

“So what does it mean, trixie?” Jay asks.

“It means that having friends is important, that they’ll always have your back.”

Jay smirks. “Sounds just like what coach said about teamwork. But when you whip one of those out at least try to say it with normal words.”

I hang my head. “I know, I’m sorry. Sometimes I speak differently-”

“I like it,” Carlos interrupts, giving me a kind smile. “It sounds nice. Have you got any more quotes?”

I stifle a laugh. “I’ve got one for Jay. ‘He that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with silver; nor he that loveth abundance with increase; this is also vanity,' from Ecclesiastes 5:10.”

“And that means…?” Jay looks at me with a lost expression.

“Money isn’t everything. When you set yourself with a wanting mind, enough is never enough. You need to accept what you have.” I point a finger when he tries to argue. “Don’t look at me like that! I saw you trying to smuggle things into your dorm!”

Mal slaps her books shut and gets a serious look on her face. “Ok guys, it’s time to talk business-”

“Hey, what about Magica? Maybe we could let her in on this-?” Evie starts to say.

“Zip it!” Mal cuts her off with a harsh look, then gives me a shooing motion. “Ah, trixie? We’ve got some goodness class stuff to work on, so would you mind just closing the door on your way out?”

If I’m honest, I’m a little disappointed that my new friends want me to leave. But after what Carlos said about Mal thinking I’m “too good” then I should’ve expected this would happen sooner or later.

“Are you sure, Mal?” Carlos tries to change her mind, but I know she won’t reconsider.

“No, it’s ok, Carlos. I’m used to being left out. I’ve got some stuff to do for Ben. I’ll just let myself out.”

I awkwardly stride over, open the door, and give Carlos one last smile before closing it. Afterwards I give a deep sigh and lean against the door, and hear a muffled conversation taking place:

“But Mal, she’s got magic!” Jay inputs.

“She could help us-” Carlos suggests.

“No!” I hear Mal state. “She’s a goody-two-shoes with magic! I don’t know where she gets it from, but there’s something about her that makes me uneasy.”

“Think it’s a spell or something?” Evie asks.

“Maybe. For all I know she could be a real witch!”

I give another heavy sigh and start walking back to my room. Typical- even the villain kids don’t trust me! But at least they still don’t know about who my mom is- I hope. 

Further down the hall I see Ben coming my way, looking a bit dazed.

“You ok, Brother Ben? You seem a bit… out of it.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! I was just going to check on the villain kids!”

I grunt. “Good luck. Seems like sometimes they’re just as friendly as Audrey!” I say with cheery sarcasm.

He’s still acting dreamy-eyed, so he ignores my upset mood and keeps walking past me.

“I’ll have the list of family day plans by the end of the day!” I call.

“Um, yeah. Yeah…”

I just shake my head. Great, now Ben’s put me on the pay-no-mind list too.

[all-things-fandomstuck-writes]

A Night to Remember - Muerte x GN! Reader

Hi guys! I meant to get this posted on Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t quite finished yet. This a Muerte (Death) x Reader from Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, but, it’s set during Shrek 2. There had been talk about Muerte being there for Lord Farquaad’s death, but I thought there was a missed opportunity with Fairy Godmother’s death. And, since I don’t know any other way apparently, yes, this is an x Reader. And this is more of a drabble than an actual fic. Well, at least by my usual standards. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.

Also, just a quick reminder, I do you (Y/N) in my fic, so if that’s not your cup of tea, well......

Oh, and forgive me if I mangled the Spanish. I don’t speak it, and therefore, I used Spanishdic.com and Google Translate.

TW: I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this one, especially if you’ve seen Shrek 2, but Major Character death, probably mangled Spanish (please correct me if you speak it)

I also apologize if Muerte seems a bit OOC. I’ve only been able to watch the movie once, and don’t have the money to watch it through Amazon until payday, and my usual site doesn’t have it yet. So, I haven’t been able to do several rewatches to get his character set.

Anyway, without further ado, the fic:

Muerte wasn’t one for dressing up. Not that he couldn’t, but rather, his job made it hard to do so. It’s much easier to blend into a crowd when you look like everyone else. Not that Muerte had the need to, as most people couldn’t see him, save for the dead or dying. That, and the occasional mystic who happened to be attuned to death. Truly, there had never really been a need for him to look nice. Not until today.Today, Muerte had a promise to keep. While he could never truly take time off, he did try to spend as much time with his partner, (Y/N), as his job allowed.

Ah, (Y/N). His heart and soul. The very thought of them brought a smile to his face. Muerte stood in front of his bedroom mirror, taking the time to make any and all necessary adjustments to his black dress tunic, no matter how minor or trivial they seemed. While he recognized that he still had a job to do, he was determined to make this night special. After all, it was the first time in a while his work load had reasonably lessened to allow for a breather. It had been too long since he had gotten to spend a significant amount of time with his beloved (Y/N), and he was determined to at least spend the night out with them. They had insisted on meeting him there, given the potential hecticness of his work. Muerte straightened the last of the creases from his outfit before grabbing his sickles, and opening up a portal that would take him to a special evening with the love of his life.

The night was just getting started with Muerte stepped out of the shadows, which worked well for him. He hated to keep his amor waiting. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of them. It didn’t take long to find them, as they were conveniently, and perhaps even predictably, near the spot where her arrived.

(Y/N) felt Muerte’s presence before they saw him. There was a certain chill that their lover brought with him that seemed to cling to the atmosphere around him. A smile crept upon their face as they felt their wolf’s arms wrap around them.

“Mi Vida”, Muerte spoke in their ear. (Y/N) snuggled against him, finding comfort in his coolness.

“Mi Corazón”, they replied. “I’m glad you could make it!”

At this, Muerte briefly released them, only to grab them by the hand and spin them out and away, as if in a dance, before spinning them back into his replace.

“As if I’d miss the chance to sweep you off your feet.”

“Alright”, (Y/N) said, before pulling away and turning to look at him. “Let me get a good look at you before you waltz me into a stupor.” Muerte let out a small chuckle while they smiled as they drank in the sight of him.

“My, my, we are going to have to get you dressed more often,” they said playfully. A smirk made it’s way onto Muerte’s lips .

“Don’t get used to it, Mi Vida”, he said as he held out his arm. (Y/N) graciously accepted, and allowed themselves to be lead onto the dance floor. It wasn’t long before the couple of the evening, Princess Fiona and her husband, Prince Shrek arrived, prompting Fairy Godmother to launch into a rendition of “I Need a Hero”. The crowd of onlookers, all too excited to see the couple, goaded them to dance. If (Y/N) had been paying attention, they might have noticed the look on Fiona’s face, and think that something might have been amiss, but they were too focused on the wolf next to them to care. The royal couple began their dance, as the sweet melody pour from Fairy Godmother’s lips. After the first verse however, and with a cry of “Hit it!”, the choir joined in the song, and the tempo increased rapidly. Other couples, including Muerte and (Y/N), joined in. (Y/N) held Muerte’s gaze as he expertly spun them around on the dance floor. His ruby eyes held their (e/c) ones captive, as they enjoyed the feeling of being secure in his arms. ‘How odd’, they thought to themselves, ‘that one could find comfort in Death’s embrace.’ The irony was not lost to them. The moment didn’t last long, however, as a new figure bound into the party atop a white stallion, and brought the whole affair to a screeching halt.

“Hey, you”, the newcomer said as dismounted his steed and strode towards the couple, specifically addressing the new prince. “Back away from my wife”

“Shrek?”, Princess Fiona questioned, recognizing that the man in front of her was her true husband. In an instant, Fairy Godmother came flying through the crowd, and in that moment, (Y/N) felt it. The familiar spine chilling tingle that announced someone was soon to pass. They had spent more than enough time in Muerte’s presence to know the feeling. One look into his eyes was more than enough to confirm it. He gave them a silent nod in response to the question they dared not ask.

“Looks like this night just got interesting”, they heard him say. The ball quickly dissolved into chaos from that point, as a desperate struggle for Fairy Godmother’s wand began. Eventually, it was caught by a ginger cat both (Y/N) and Muerte recognized as Puss in Boots. (Y/N) felt their lover tense slightly under their touch, clearly unhappy with the cat’s appearance.

“Ese gato estúpido”, he muttered, grip tightening on his partner’s waist. Muerte had collected Puss a few times in the past, and he hated the blatant disregard he seemed to have for his lives. The glare that was present on his face soke volumes, as he watch the cat, who now stood atop the stallion, which he then declared a donkey, and held high the Fairy Godmother’s wand in his hand.

The Fairy Godmother spun in the air towards the man who was clearly not Shrek. (Y/N) would later find out that he was the infamous Prince Charming, though that didn’t seem to matter at the time.

“She’s taken the potion!,” the fairy shouted. “Kiss her now!”

Charming swept up from behind Fiona before grabbing her by the shoulders, and planting a firm kiss on her lips.A cry of “No!” was heard from Shrek, and the party goers looked on, unsure of what was happening. Charming, hopeful that whatever plan was laid worked, briefly caressed Fiona’s cheek, as if he were being careful not to overplay it.The crowd watched with bated breath as Shrek looked away and sighed. Fiona took Charming’s face into her hands, and with a resounding cry, headbutted him to the ground. A chorus of “Ohs” and gasps rang through the crowd, before falling into a stunned silence. Charming hit the ground, and Fairy Godmother raced towards the King, and began to give him a rough scolding.

Unfortunately, Charming was quick to recover, and with a shout of “Mummy”, which confused many people, ripped the wand from Puss’s paw and threw it towards the Fairy Godmother. She caught it effortlessly before rising higher into the air.

“I told you, ogres don’t live Happily Ever After!”, she shrieked. With that, she hurled a bolt of magic towards the recently reunited couple. In a flash, Shrek pushed Fiona away from himself, and out of harm’s way. But, the King of Far Far Away was faster. Despite his old age, or possibly in spite of it, he threw himself in front of his son-in-law, and took the full brunt of the blast. The breastplate he wore bounced the beam back towards it’s origins, blasting Fairy Godmother backwards several feet. She spun heels over head, until she was able to right herself, and check for damages. Satisfied that she herself was alright, she prepared for her next attack. But, it never came, as the moment she went to strike, Fairy Godmother burst into a shower of sparkles and bubbles. Her glasses and wand hit the ground as Fiona and the Queen rushed to wear the King had once stood.

“Duty calls, Mi Vida”, Muerte softly spoke, slipping away from his partner to reap the soul of the now deceased fairy. (Y/N) bowed their head, out of acknowledgement or respect for the dead, they weren’t certain. The guests began to mourn their fallen King, before a frog crawled out of his breastplate. From their position, (Y/N) could see that it wore the King’s crown, and the royal family seemed to confirm it as well. They seemed to have a massive heart-to-heart, though (Y/N) was now more focused on their boyfriend to truly care. They loved watching him work, even though it was a rare sight for them. Considering that he’s “Death, straight up”, as he often liked to put it, Muerte didn’t want (Y/N) getting too close to his job. It was a better way to protect them, he had reasoned to himself. Not that they couldn’t handle themselves, but still. Better safe than sorry.

Muerte returned to (Y/N)’s side as Shrek was asking Fiona if she wished to remain human. Muerte’s arm snaked around their waist as the pair watched the tender scene unfold before them. They snuggled into his side, as Fiona chose to return to her ogre form to be with her husband. The royal pair, and the stallion, were lifted into the air in a swirling stream of light. As they returned to the ground, there stood two ogres, and, much to (Y/N)’s amusement, a single donkey.

The crowd cheered as Shrek dipped Fiona into a kiss. However, the sweet moment was cut short by Puss reminding the crowd that they were there to party. Both Puss and the donkey launched into a stirring rendition of “Livin’ La Vida Loca”, as fireworks lit up the night sky. Muerte scowled, clearly not over the annoyance the cat’s presence brought. “I’m gonna kill that cat”, he muttered to himself, but (Y/N) was quick to drag him out of his thought and onto the dance floor.

Pulling him into a dance, they reassured their lover. “Oh come on, Mi Corazón. For once, el gato has a point. Besides”, they shrugged, “He’s got a couple more lives. You could always hunt him down later.”

Muerte chuckled and shook his head. “That is true, Mi Vida” He smiled as he pulled them closer, eyes meeting theirs. “There’s always tomorrow.”

“There’s always tomorrow”, (Y/N) echoed, wrapping their arms around Muerte’s neck. “But for now, I have the Big Bad Wolf all to myself.” That earned then another small chuckle from their boyfriend.

“Yes, yes you do,” he replied as their (e/c) irises locked onto his crimson ones. (Y/N) was quick to notice the mischievous glint within them. Suddenly, their body was tilted backwards, though they had no danger of falling. Muerte’s grip on them was firm as he kissed them senseless.

Yes, there would always be other days. But, for now, the pair would revel in the warmth and joy of the evening, and in each other, as they continued toward their own Happily Ever After.

~

Translations:

Muerte - Death

Amor - Love

Mi Vida - My Life

Mi Corazón - My Heart

Ese gato estúpido - That stupid cat

El gato - The cat

[theinsanecrayonbox]

X-Force #48 time!

Spoilers: Arkady has no lines, but isn’t knocked out for the remainder of the arc and/or dead

Got to love how everyone else’s line art from later in the issue icon boxes are somewhat dignified, but Arkady’s is him getting shot. He’s got better panels later here geeze. Also thanks for the reminder of when in the timeline this is since publishing books in order is for nerds apparently.

So it starts with Beast breaking into the Green House to steal…

A vegan mech suit…ok…

Sage ran off to protect something else though, so the rest of X-Force (minus Ark since he got knocked out because Beast really hates him for some reason) watched Beast ft off with said suit. What was she protecting? A Beast clone.

So it’s time for a team meeting! The clone has memories up until the 80s for some reason (why keep copies of memories that are incomplete?? The point of the memory copies was so the respawns would be up to date so when you died on your missions they’d replace you without anyone noticing a difference). The idea is to wake up the cane and pick it’s brain to help them stop Beast Prime. Not everyone is on board with this idea for very valid reasons.

Once again Sage is the only one who cares about the fact that Beast keeps murdering Arkady

Anywhos, they go to wake the clone

Again Sage being the one to use the brain cell…however it’s interesting that they give a specific time stamp for Beast 2’s memories. New Defenders #142 came out in 1985; when did everyone on X-Force first appear;

Interesting, he’s only be potentially familiar with half of them.

Anyways, clone wakes up, little fight, he says the catch phrase…and I admit I heard it in the 90s animated voice from then on, which I have not heard any of the war criminal diatribes. Tom is put in babysitting duty. Beast 2 breaks containment then googled himself to find out how evil Beast Prime has been, so he runs away…probably to go hook up with Wonderman if the cover to the next issue is anything to go by.

Now, I’m split at the moment about this. It feels like a cop out to have a new younger/not evil Beast that will probably stay around after we kill off the evil one and then pretend it never happened. The trend of doing this is really annoying. Sure no one liked this twist yo evil, but it happened and it mattered to the overall story, and shouldn’t be ignored. Could this be a great parallel storyline about how Beast 2 has to work to repent for things he never did but everyone still sees him as a villain, thus mirroring what the other reformed villains are put through; oh heck yeah but it probably won’t. Because everyone wants him to be good again and doesn’t want to see him bad; it’s why Wolverine can get away with murder but Sabretooth can’t lead a team with good intentions. Writers these days don’t care about overall character growth and the world advancing as a whole, they only focus on the story they want to tell at that moment and don’t bother considering how it affects other parts

So idk. Arkady probably won’t get to kill the man who keeps murdering him, so whatever I guess. At least we know who survives the arc I guess.

[dishtothedeath]

Class Action Settlement

There was a lot presented to them that they needed to address and to say. The room was vibrating with energy but as a message comes through from her tablet, she knows there’s not that much time left and they deserved the truth or as much as they could give.

So though she asked, Araceli knows better than to expect Tsuki to immediately comply so she can take the lead. Let’s start with an easy one.

“The staging of this finale is Severin’s handiwork… I’m not entirely sure how everything works but I do know that there were no plans to execute us. I… can’t tell you why it might be that he just ran out of time.”

She shouldn’t regret that that was the case. If anything she should be thrilled to live but it’s weighing on her. They wanted their justice, whatever form it took, but would have to wait.

“In any case, while what you’ve experienced here is real… the world at large does not think that is true. It was framed as a show and HDQ Entertainment bought out the broadcasters, networks, and internet providers along the way… There are people who have tried to voice concern but they are far and few between. Though I suspect that the proper authorities have already been alerted so… It’ll be easier for you to share your experiences if you so wish to.”

She had considered if her manager or dad were part of those people who cared enough to speak. It feels just as sick saying it as she remembers hearing it for the first time. Worse, actually. Back when she had convinced Basile to follow her lead even at the detriment of Tsuki.

Araceli stops her talking and keeps her eyes on him, nodding to signal that he should start. 

“Everything is a broad ask you know… besides I already said it early on… there was no good reason. The person in the pod, my brother, was just a bonus once I realized I could potentially use him for all of this too. 

The short of it is I was at a company party and happened to have a chance to speak with the boss about my future career… one bad faith joke after another lead to me saying that with how desensitized people are to the media these days we could likely get away with actually killing people on a show. I get along with some of his tech support staff who were sharing details of a new VR project going on since the environments fucked, so I added that we could use the people we kill to further the project. Honestly I thought it was corporate banter at first, but he liked the idea… This is where I’d love to say I’m a better person and I called him a freak, but once I saw he was genuinely invested… I mean honestly I was curious about it all.

So why? It was a sick joke between two corporate bigwigs that became real because neither saw an issue with it. We toyed with you like all reality celebrities are toyed with. And to be honest for most of you… you’re getting bodies back and will have full control, so there’s really only emotional damage.”

It was quick, clinical, and painless, at least on the Producer’s end. A clear lack of guilt in his words, in his tone, in his expression, save for a small glance towards Araceli before he closes his eyes and continues.

“I put Haruki into a coma when I tried to get him out of the picture… oh over a decade ago? Since then my mother made me replace his existence, as she could live without her second son existing, but her dear precious first born needed to live. Add some resentment, some wanting him dead, and now I have a chance to put him, or a version of him back so she’ll finally leave me alone. Like I said… he was just a bonus. If anything, the fact that research can at least potentially help other coma victims… is an even further bonus?

Despite the lack of chip in his brain initially, the combination of it, and some time has lead to his AI self being a one to one with how he was, and I never added any blanks in for him… it was just the system itself. The new issue is figuring out how to get my idiotic brother’s consciousness back to his physical body, but clearly I don’t have time for that anymore, so I’ll probably just shove him in a robot too, he’d probably prefer starting at 18 again instead of his atrophied body.”

As long as his brother was back so his mom could leave him alone, it was clear at this point that was all he cared about. Shallow, just like everything he claims.

“So, most people think this show was actually a performance by all of us, once you’re all in new bodies it will be like this never happened, and you can have as many chances at further life as you want until you’re done. Even us who never died, that chip can still be used down the road if wanted. Optional of course.”

Tapping the side of his head, the Producer continues.

“Orrrr you can stay in the servers. Love the whole virus idea, but you’d be just that. A global virus and I really don’t care to have several governments after me just because you want to hack Tesla’s. Soooo… those are the choices. Oh and to keep things from being all how do we know you didn’t add mass self destruction, I’ll work on Sunny first with him overseeing me. Then once Sunny’s back we’ll work on everyone else…

Until I get bored, then it’ll just be Sunny. He’s a fast learner he’ll probably figure things out, and if he really needs advice he can contact me. If anyone who is currently alive and wants a backup body since you also want a second life, you’ll have to let me know now. Otherwiseeee I can’t really do much, oopsie.

Feel free to pitch other ideas that don’t involve me dying though. Maybe I’ll consider them. Any cool special features you want your bodies to have like built-in roller blades.”

Thumbs up.

Araceli… doesn’t know how to possibly follow all of that up. There were bits and pieces she didn’t know and information being put into a different light. Whatever picture she had of Tsuki warped into a different form. She didn’t have enough fight left in her to scream or even get angry. It just hurt. 

“Right. You may not need it depending on what HDQ is going to have to spare, but Sweethearts can and will provide you with money, legal services, or.. connections but I doubt many of you would want to be involved in the entertainment industry.” She hadn’t gotten approval from this but Araceli knew the names and faces of all those who attended the meetings. This was only part of what she was owed. “Public Relations will also be handled on our side. Even if you want to disappear from the public eye, that can be arranged.”

She looks down at her tablet, carefully sending a message and looking to make sure that none of the dead glitched out more than they already have been. She receives a message in turn. There’s relief on her face.

“The rescue will be here soon, with medical staff for those who need it… Wherever you want to go, they’ll take you. You should pack your belongings, if you still want them. They’ll take you when you’re ready to leave.”

The Producer takes a moment as his tablet beeps at him and nods to confirm Araceli’s words.

“Meanwhile I have work to do. Please give your last requests of what you want so I know where to focus my efforts. If you don’t make one, I’ll choose for you. Perhaps I’ll see you all again, though, probably not since none of you really want that, if you really want to… I don’t know. Add that onto the requests because I’m assuming no otherwise?? You guys really are all so mean, making Sunny have to do extra work.”

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

Like a Worm on a String | Erik A | Trial 5.2 | Re: Kenshin, END, Byrne, Akito | ATTN: Akito

First, Erik A looks to Adrik with a small frown at the mocking look on their face for That of all things, instead of the actual awful shit the hosts had done. But… for now, there were more important matters to figure out. He shakes his head in particular to some of what Kenshin says first.

  “I do have one thing to correct there, in that… I’m not sure if all of us were being tested as a potential ‘Vessel’, because it sounds like they already found one, and the woman who was picked was lying in the cell room. I guess she was also in the VR, and Jae-min said something about… her knowing about things that ER1K4 had done…? 

Point is, I still think that she might be the replacement ‘vessel’ they found, so the experiment they were doing NOW is… to find a replacement for all of the other color coded subjects that were raised for the project maybe? They seemed to want that same ‘ideal’ number, so… I can only assume at least. We didn’t find a clear explanation for WHY that’s happening, but… I mean, I can assume some things based on who’s running this.” 

He also gives a glance to a bit about what END said the post before last-

  “And thanks for the explanation- I wasn’t kidding when I said that that taser only has one tase between charges though, I’ve messed with it some before I passed it on to Erisu. So… if there were two uses, and the charger was THERE… was the pillow other people mentioned being burnt just… a test use of it then??? In the lobby???” He’s not sure if that makes sense, but it’s his best guess. Not like he saw it himself.

And then there’s Akito talking and… oh. Everything that Byrne says hits hard, and he can tell that even just expressing this much is painful for him to. Erik A gives a nod, acknowledging what he’s shared. Breath, Byrne…

  “...I can’t say I can defend everything that Akito’s said before, so I’m not going to try about that. I know… I know there’s been a lot of heart between you both and I’ll admit, that does sound suspicious to know, so it makes sense that you’d find it that way. I could say it could have been from other things or him just getting lucky, but I… would hope that now of all times we can get a real answer for that, for my peace of mind too if there is one. I know that I also knew shit about Eureka that I probably shouldn’t have, right? So… I dunno, it’s not impossible that it’s for a more benign reason too. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, especially when I was also able to get at least… part of that myself, even if not anything as detailed as that.”

 He takes a deep breath.

“Personally, I don’t think Akito did this. Or, at the very least, I don’t think he’s Az-8, and I’d… Like to trust be able to trust him on more than that too because I’m not sure how a third party would have gotten into things to kill Erisu otherwise. Because… I mean, it’s almost glaringly obvious that he’s suspicious, right? With the clues that we found. I don’t want to speak for him too much here, but the receipt for those items were about things I did in fact get in the gacha. The fact that… something that looked like his thermos and breath mints were by the surveillance cameras. The fact that the letter that Jae-min saw in VR by apparently matched Akito’s handwriting, and what END already said about who the ‘Vessel’ is supposed to be. It feels almost too easy, like they were left out on purpose. But I know we need to figure out more anything else about that.”

“If I’m wrong, if he has been stringing me along this entire time, I… I guess I’ll accept that if there’s actually way to prove it. But fuck, as it stands, I think it’s a hell of a lot more likely that he’s being framed for this for a number of reasons, and I’ve been trying my best to have some kind of level of faith for a while now because of a couple of things. I know we’ve talked about the possibility of this happening before, too.”

And a lot of those reasons, were… things that were personal too, weren’t they? Erik A turns to Akito, 

  “Do you remember what I told you once? About… letting more people in on whatever things you want to take on by yourself, because it can look more suspicious for you to not?? I know you think it would be more suspicious to let people know more things, and it can be sometimes, but now of all times where you’re already being looked at with it, some truth would be real nice.”

There are things he can say, but… coming from Akito himself with what he’s actually willing to say, Erik A thinks it’d be a lot better. 

Finally, he turns to END again, and gives a somber nod. He knows what she means, having talked about it already 

  “Yeah. The Kaleidoscope Project… It sounded like for all of those test subjects raised from before they were even born, it was intended for all but one of them to physically die, the last to have their mind presumably altered to house everything else. I don’t know how much they knew about all of that before recently, because it’s clear from TEXTS and interaction that Weiss… definitely only found out and tried to get away before of it in more recent years, before the Erika Foundation clearly caused what happened to him and then kept him in a medical coma for quite a fucking while.

An… and Calluna, and probably Az-8. I can only assume they were trying to escape that fate for themselves by bringing other people into it. Whatever the cost for survival, right? But now, we’re stuck in the same mess because of that.”

A rat in a maze making other rats run a maze, as he’d talked about with An once. Of course he can’t blame them for wanting out of that. But he can still be pissed about being dragged in alongside them.

[lucyhorner1]

Can we Guess if You’ve Discovered The One

Honesty, belief and integrity usually are not the virtues which have gone hand-in-hand with on-line dating for a very long time. In case you are searching for a mail order bride from a sure nation, then you definately probably know about all the peculiarities and cultural options of your potential bride. נערות ליווי בתל אביב You then fill out the qualities that you're searching for in a mate with the intention to slim the search. He simply says they're jerks after they drink and he overestimated them. ” she says. “I was trying to catch myself in a doom scroll of taking a look at folks and simply feeling discouraged.” Unfortunately, that doomscroll occurred far too often, more so than Guiser’s optimistic experiences on the apps. If she says something to the impact of, "They sound so funny/sensible/interesting, I'd like to meet them," then you may know it is time to take the next step. It's like rolling your eyes at their conduct (with out tipping your hand to your mates). Taking some time to ruminate about what she said will supply clues about whether or not it is time to convey her around your pals. Whether home is Boston, Seattle, Houston or wherever in between, at EliteSingles we offer regional dating guides to help you meet local singles who you’re compatible with.

During the large introductions, don't forget to offer a little public display of affection (PDA.) A PDA shouldn't go overboard (we're talking holding palms, not tongue-hockey), particularly in entrance of your buddies. And, in case you suspect your favourite man's evening hangout is just a little too lowbrow on your lady, suggest a compromise: Invite everyone to fulfill at a casual restaurant. Benny is upset, as it is Steff's occasion and Blane shouldn't be allowed to ask "just anybody." She claims Andie will spoil her night time - she curses and insults Blane for bringing Andie into the group. According to a later tradition, the Book of Documents was compiled by Confucius (551-479 BC) as a selection from a a lot larger group of documents, with a number of the remainder being included in the Yizhoushu. Soon after your buddies develop into acquainted with your girlfriend, you'll need to fly solo and do something with your group of guy buddies.

Let's minimize to the chase: How much time do you have to wait earlier than introducing your girlfriend to your buddies? You'll wish to bring your girlfriend to the place the place you'd normally hold with your buds, like a neighborhood sports activities bar. David Archuleta, like most celebrities, prefers to maintain his personal and romantic lives personal, so check again often as we are going to proceed to replace this page with new dating news and rumors. We'll continue to replace this web page with new dating news and rumors as IU, like most celebrities, tries to maintain her private and love life private. There's at all times the danger your mates will not like your girlfriend. Although you do not need to be clingy, it is a present of solidarity when your friends see you and your girlfriend present a united entrance. We're cool, however we never see each other anymore. Or, they could see her unfavourable actions and intentions slightly more clearly than you do.

Plus, if your mates get slightly boisterous with either their language or matter of dialog, you can give her hand or knee somewhat squeeze. It's sufficient to make you sequester your gal until your life collectively has progressed somewhat. Suppose you're excited about long-term relationships and finding a life accomplice. He sees it as him and her in opposition to the world, as they are the poor and odd youngsters, and he hopes that she's going to see they have the whole lot in widespread and so they're a match made in heaven. When Steff and Benny see Andie at Steff's celebration, Benny insults each Andie and Blane. Blane takes Andie to a social gathering with the rich kids, who're stunned and repulsed that she is there. Lizard Lick Towing co-manager and wife of Ron Shirley, who stars within the TruTV reality series that bears the company’s name. He remains to be reeling from his spouse abandoning the household.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?

So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....

Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....

So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.

And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”

And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”

And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”

And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.

Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.

“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.

“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”

Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”

“Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids. 

“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.

“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”

“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint? 

What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?

Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower. 

“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”

He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”

As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes. 

“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”

Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.

“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”

He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”

Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”

Signal just snorts.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”

“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”

“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”

“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”

Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”

“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”

“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”

“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”

“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.

“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”

Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”

“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”

“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer. 

“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”

“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”

“You did what?”

“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”

Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.

“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”

“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.

“Plus he bribes better.”

“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”

Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”

“Its called an homage, 4chan.”

“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."

Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.

“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”

Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”

Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.

“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”

“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”

Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”

“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”

“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.

Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”

“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”

“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.

“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”

“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”

Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest. 

“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”

“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”

Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”

“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”

Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.

“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.

She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”

“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.

“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.

“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”

She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”

“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.

Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.

Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.

“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”

Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”

“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.

“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”

Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”

“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”

“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.

Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.

Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:

“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”

[marvel-trash-bin]

Taking Risks.

(Not my Gif.)

Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*

Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4.2K

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44

A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.

And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.

Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.

It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.

Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”

You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”

You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.

“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”

The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.

“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”

You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”

He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.

“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”

The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.

“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.

His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.

~

The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.

He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.

He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.

“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.

You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”

And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.

So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.

By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.

“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.

You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”

He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.

“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”

The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.

~

By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.

He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.

“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”

You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.

“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”

He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.

“For teasing you.”

“And?”

You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.

“For embarrassing you.”

There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.

“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.

Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.

“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”

You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”

Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.

“Proceed.”

Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.

“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.

Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.

“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.

A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.

Powerful.

Strict.

However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.

He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.

After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.

“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”

You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.

It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”

You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.

He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.

“Turn around.”

As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.

“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.

“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.

“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”

He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.

He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.

One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”

You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.

“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.

Then a bite.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”

And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.

“I’d let you do anything to me.”

He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.

“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.

The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.

It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.

You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”

You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.

His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.

“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”

And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.

As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.

He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.

His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.

“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”

This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

------------------------------

+ Childhood

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Hades

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades

Lucifer

Well… this is awkward…

He’s actually met Hades multiple times for business reasons (Underworld-Devildom relations are amiable if not a little odd. Hades was something of an uncle figure to Diavolo as a wee demon lad, which should speak for itself really). He’s a gloomy fellow and not much for chit-chat, but he never thought they’d end up taking one of his kids by accident…

He had to send a formal apology letter to the Lord of the Underworld immediately, but thankfully he didn’t seem very concerned for his offspring - if anything he appeared to think the Devildom would suit them nicely which was… concerning.

And he was not wrong. The darkness, demons, ghouls, and frights of the Devildom hardly seemed to faze the MC, if anything they fit right in. He’d dare say they were thriving if not for one thing…

They were So. Damn. Bleak.

Getting a smile out of this one AT ALL was rare. For once he felt the need to check up on someone constantly just to be sure they were alright... They’d keep assuring the House that they’re not actually as sad as they look but it’s hard not to assume…

He was a little mortified at first when they first met Cerberus cause… well they called him “Cerbi” and the massive demonic guard dog rolled over for them like a Golden Retriever! 

Apparently he and the Cerberus that they knew are from the same litter and they must have smelt familiar... He would have probably limited their interactions just to keep his dog on his side but after seeing the MC smile for once while they played with the big oaf well…

Cerberus got a new playmate and the MC got a massive, three-headed therapy animal. Win-win. 😌

Mammon

Do ya really gotta be such a downer all the time, MC…? 😔

He thinks they’re nice, like really nice. They’re always super concerned when his brothers attack him or when he gets injured, but he’s pretty sure it’s because they’ve seen people die before so…

At first, he had no idea why he had to be saddled with this depressing wisp of mortal but over time he started to understand that they weren’t all that sad. They had… Resting Gloom Face? Is that a thing? 

They also had a different way of seeing things. He could win the lottery and they’d tell him to stay inside so he wouldn’t get hit by lightning or if he pissed off the wrong people, they’d joke about him keeping his fingers and toes. Dark stuff, but not intended to be so… well morbid.

However, what he eventually found out that the REAL advantage to having a Hades kid in the Devildom was that nothing scared them. Literally nothing. Not even the ghosts - which to reiterate, are terrifying!

Cue Mammon getting dragged to horror movies nights with his brothers and pulling the MC along to be his personal security blanket. He’ll hold onto them for dear life as they just pat his head or something, watching and not even flinching at the jumpscares.

The first time the House had an unexpected power outage he clung onto the back of their shirt like a lost child while they calmly looked for the circuit-breaker...

If he could jump into their arms every time something scary happened like Scooby-Doo, he absolutely would. His brothers make fun of him, but after seeing the MC handle Cerberus like a puppy any time something frightens them they hide behind the mortal as well…

Leviathan

In some ways, he totally relates to their moodiness but come on! Who can still look so sad when watching The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl?? Ruri-chan can make anyone smile! 😠

When he first met the MC, he was a little confused about why they didn't find him intimidating at all. He even reverted to his demon form and showed his fangs but no dice! All they said was, "I've walked along the edge of Tartarus. You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that, buddy…" 

That was probably his first sign that the "human" wasn't normal…

After Mammon told him who their Dad was, things made a lot more sense. A child of Hades in the Devildom? That's ironic enough to be its own anime plot!! They certainly felt like an angsty protagonist at times. 🤷‍♀️

Truth be told, they could relate to each other in a lot of ways. You wouldn't think that an offspring of the Underworld and a demonic shut-in would have much in common but the one thing they share between them is that sense of never really fitting in.

Turns out that Hades kids are black sheep, even among other demigods, and Levi? Well, he's had trouble relating to others since his angel days. He and the mortal were like off-beat kindred spirits!

Which, I mean, you wouldn't get just by looking at them together. Levi being the impassioned super-otaku rambling their ear off while his somber companion would just go along with him quietly, but hey, there's more beneath the surface. Probably. 

Now if he could just get them to cosplay as the Lord of Emptiness with him… They'd be perfect! Perfect he says!!

Satan

Highly considered drugging their food with antidepressants for a while… 

This was before getting to know them better, of course, but for the first couple months he honestly couldn't shake the feeling that the mortal looked miserable! 

Now, he's one to particularly care for the comfort of strangers, but just looking at them like that every day would sour his own mood quite considerably. It was very irritating...

It was only on closer inspection that he realized there was something else at play, though.

The mortal was different - even for a demigod he imagined. They took to the Devildom easily and the realm almost accepted them right back!

The flora looked better in their presence, the hellish beasts that roamed the wilds would roll over for them, and they even seemed to be welcomed in by the never-ending shadows… 

It was fascinating. Like the effects of the Underworld were baked into their DNA and mingled with the environment around them… Two layers of darkness coexisting within one person.

I mean, what other creature - other than Lucifer - could ride Cerberus around like a pony??

Had they not been so kind, they'd probably scare him shit-less... Their potential power was too great to ignore. But after getting used to their gloom, at least they made for pleasant company. 🤷‍♀️

Satan likes them well enough, but even still he has to wonder just what they were capable of… you know?

Asmodeus

Oh. My. WORD. What a buzzkill!!!

Really, the new mortal was no good at parties or pictures for that matter!

Not because they looked bad, or even because he couldn't get them to smile, but because GHOSTS would always photobomb any pictures they were in!! 😫

One time he got a selfie with them on the couch and a creepy ghost child could be seen hiding behind the cushions so NOPE. No more photos with the mortal around!!

Aside from that, he couldn't say the mortal was all bad or anything…They were pretty friendly, despite their general look and feel. 

Though, personally, he thought they wore far too much black... Even in the Devildom, there's normally a pop of color, you know? Was that just the Hades dress code?

And you want to know the weirdest thing? Despite everything about them screaming "Doom and Gloom," they're straaaangely popular among the RAD dating scene…

Like. Not as some heartthrob, "Love'em and Leave'em"-type, but he's found that there's a LOT of his demonic classmates who think they're cute or have a crush on them in some way…

Naturally, he can see the appeal of the mysterious, moody demigod with a dark, troubled past. It's just the demigod in question is completely oblivious to it! 🤷‍♀️

He tried to give them dating tips or play matchmaker from time to time but eventually gave up when it was clear they weren't interested. Alas, students of RAD, this is one forbidden fruit that refuses to be shared…! Such a tragedy… 😔

Beelzebub

They remind him of Belphie… like. A lot.

The similarities were obvious. They had a similar feel, made similar jokes, and even the same somewhat dreary attitude about them...

If he were being honest, at the beginning there were times when he'd open up to them a lot more than he intended because he'd forget that he wasn't actually talking to Belphie…

Thankfully, he knew better than to try and treat them like his replacement or anything. They were two different people after all. But it didn't stop him from feeling extra protective around them for a while.

Besides, there was ONE thing that set them leagues apart from Belphie and that was the fact they were a shit cook. Not quite as bad as Solomon but uh… Actually no, that's a closer call than it has any right to be...

Apparently, Hades kids don't need to eat as much and when you hang out with shades and skeletons for most of your life, you don’t really worry about making food that's any better than… "Well, technically it's edible." 🤷‍♀️

Their food won't kill a person like Solomon's, but you WILL start seeing stuff you probably shouldn't. He tried their "soup" once and swore he saw the ghost of his mother… and he doesn't even have a mother!!!

He swears that if he ever sees the MC and Solomon working together in the same kitchen he's skipping town… Whatever culinary abomination the two of them could create would probably gain sentience and eat HIM instead. He's always figured he'd go out with Death by Food, but not like that!! 😫

Belphegor

Ever meet someone who’s like looking in a mirror? Yeah, he’s getting those vibes…

He never expected the "human" to be so similar to him, it was kind of uncanny.

Upon first laying eyes on each other there was a pause… then a squint… and then… a nod.

Honestly, their combined dry wit, dark humor, and pessimistic outlook played off of each other surprisingly well. Too well for him to hate, really.

Not that it mattered because they didn’t believe him for a second when he tried to trick them (they had dealt with loads of lying monsters before). He hated to admit it, but they had a good head on their shoulders and knew better than to trust a locked up demon…

And yet, they seemed to stick around with him anyway. Because of the good conversation or just empathizing with his loneliness was anyone's guess. 🤷‍♀️

Sometimes they'd come up and sit outside the door in comfortable silence… Or they'd talk about whatever:

MC: *sitting out by the attic with their back against the door* So what happens to demons when they die…?

Belphie: *laying on the floor on the other side, staring at the ceiling* Depends on the kind. If I die, I'll just reform later.

MC: Like a reincarnation?

Belphie: Eh. *shrugs* Maybe. Haven't died yet.

MC: You could die in there, you know.

Belphie: *throws a side glare* Well thanks for bringing that up…

MC: *shrugs* What? It's true. But don't worry, I won't let you. *small-ish smile*

Belphie: *stares at them wide-eyed and pink-cheeked before turning on his side quickly* Ugh… whatever…

They did their word, somehow. They eventually got the door open and let him out, but by that time the anger was gone and he was just happy to finally talk to them face-to-face...

And good thing too, because apparently it's not smart to fight a death-child in what is essentially their element - as he saw when they summoned an army of skeletons to kick Levi's ass when he cheated them in Devil Cart...

He would not have lasted in that fight... Dodged a bullet there.