#this and the whole. using his blood to hit crocodile.

[fandomtrash-16]

this is not talked about enough, what is wrong with him

[thus-spoke-lo]

Sexy Scumbags Series // Crocodile x reader, Doflamingo x reader Masterlist // Prompt List

CW: afab!reader [no pronouns used]; toxic relationship dynamics, incl. reader cheating for attention [reader is a scumbag too!]; degradation [reader receiving] vaginal fingering; ment. of oral sex [m receiving] and unprotected vaginal sex; dubcon/noncon elements, incl. implied abduction/imprisonment [i.e. reader is going home with someone whether they like it or not] WC: 940

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, you know,” Doflamingo purrs, his long tongue leaving a warm, wet streak along your jaw.

“I know what I’m doing,” you reply, moaning softly as his hand settles on your thigh and squeezes it, harder and harder until you yelp.

Crocodile had been ignoring you for days, inattentive to your needs—or at least, not as attentive as you had come to expect and demand. He was consumed with preparing for this gathering, a meeting of the rich and the dangerous and the utterly insufferable (Doflamingo chief among them), and your copious wants and needs went largely unfulfilled. And as it went whenever Crocodile failed to make you feel as special as you thought you ought to feel as the darling of a warlord, you sought out satisfaction elsewhere—usually with a low-level lackey or some poor, confused Marine who thought it must have been his lucky day. But tonight, you hit the jackpot, catching the eye of the man that made Crocodile’s blood boil, a preening pleasure-seeker who wasted no time in pulling you into the nearest empty room once you had piqued his interest.

The door to the darkened lounge creaks open, a strip of light illuminating your transgressions, and you grin at Crocodile’s imposing shape looming in the doorway. “Are you trying to make me jealous, doll?”

You bite your lip and offer him a coy grin as you recline back against Doflamingo’s chest and let out a particularly wanton manufactured moan. “Depends—is it working?”

He doesn’t answer, only shakes his head and avoids your gaze in favor of glaring at Doflamingo, his eyes narrowing as he crosses the room and stands mere inches from the two of you. Crocodile already knows what he’ll find when he lifts the hem of your skirt with the sharp tip of his hook—Doflamingo’s motions aren’t exactly subtle and the lewd squelching sounds are hard to ignore—but he still growls and bites down on his cigar at the sight of Doflamingo’s long fingers lazily pumping in and out of your wet pussy.

Crocodile’s rising anger makes your heart pound and your hands tremble, your whole body grow warmer at the thought of what he’ll do to you later. You already can taste the pre-cum on his cock, hard and throbbing as he shoves it down your throat, tells you the only thing you should be using that smart mouth for is pleasing him. You can already feel the cool wood of his desk against your bare skin as he bends you over and ruts into you from behind, demanding that you tell him who owns you, who it is that you belong to. You can already feel the possessiveness and the love and the desire coursing through him as he pumps you full of his spend, and he growls mine into your ear, before he collapses on top of you and kisses away your tears of pleasure.

But Crocodile’s anger begins to fade, an eerie calmness settling over him, one you’ve never quite seen before. He smiles at you, not the way he always does before he kisses you and tells you that you’re trouble, that you’re a pain in the ass, and that he doesn’t know what he’d do without you—no, this is different, this is frightening. “Is this really what you want?”

“I guess it is since you won’t pay attention to me anymore,” you pout, squealing as Doflamingo shoves his hand up your blouse and pinches your nipple.

Crocodile closes his eyes for a moment, then smiles and lets out a low, long laugh. He places his hook under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him, then places a gentle, chaste kiss on your lips. “Have fun with your new friend, doll. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

Doflamingo’s cackle echoes in the room as you watch Crocodile leave and close the door behind him. The panic begins to set in—he’s never left without you before. Sure, he gets loud and he gets mean for a moment, but he always punishes the man who dares to have a hand on his property, and leaves with you tucked under his arm or thrown over his shoulder, muttering all the ways he’s going to fuck some sense into when you get home. And he’s turned away, walked a few paces as though he’d abandon you but not this, never this.

You wrench yourself from Doflamingo’s grasp and start to race for the door, calling for him, begging and pleading through teary eyes to come back, that you’re so sorry, that you’ll do anything he asks if he’ll just take you home. As your hand reaches for the doorknob, there is a sudden feeling of ropes being tightened around your body, yanking you backwards; you land in Doflamingo’s lap with a huff, your back hitting his chest hard enough to almost knock the wind out of you.

“Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you, my pretty little bird,” he coos as he moves his fingers and tightens the strings around your midsection, pinning your arms to your sides.

“Like hell you will,” you grunt, straining against his string, feeling them start to cut into your flesh like razor blades the more you move. “He’ll come for me—he always does.”

“Not this time, he won’t.” He grabs your face in his large hand and turns it towards him, squeezing your cheeks until it feels like he’s hitting bone. “He doesn’t tend to like his toys back once I’ve broken them.”

[aceandurmom]

Harlequin Hearts: The Archivist's Swordsmaster Affair Chapter Four

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\Only on Tumblr under ACEANDURMOM////////////////////////

This was the first time you had ever seen Mihawk up close. 

He was gorgeous like this. 

His hat billowed out around his head like a dark halo. The plumage fluffing out behind him. Facial hair neatly trimmed to perfection and eyelashes that fluttered against his cheekbones everytime he blinked. Eyebrows furrowed and serious, underneath were his namesake. Golden ringed eyes that could pin down anyone with only a glance. 

He was frowning even now. Not once have you seen his lips upturn into a smile; even when Buggy made his jokes that made Crocodile huff in amusement. 

Perhaps it was the blood loss making you think such things. 

Yet you couldn’t help but ponder the man in front of you. 

He was walking a tad bit faster now, almost to the infirmary. 

Hand reaching out, you grasped at the hairs near the base of his neck. You twirled his hair in between your fingers, the strands surprisingly soft.

He glanced down at you. 

“Whatever are you doing, dove?”

“Your eyes are beautiful.”

Choking, his eyes widened before hurrying faster to the medical tent. You were clearly delirious.

Entering, he announced his need for a doctor. After securing you in an empty bed, he turned on his heel. 

“I’ll go fetch Buggy. Be good for them, dove.”

Reaching out, you grabbed for his flower patterned maroon sleeve.  

He stopped for a moment. Eyeing you, he contemplated sending someone else to receive the man. But Mihawk knew better, if anyone else said such a thing to the clown he would blow a fuse. Mihawk would have to do so as Crocodile was also busy. 

No matter how much he wanted to stay by your side. 

Turning on his heel, he planted a firm kiss on your knuckles.

“I will return as soon as I have your Captain with me.”

You pouted, but you didn’t have enough time to retort before the nurses were poking and prodding at your open wound. 

He left when you winced. Both not wanting to witness you in pain and to go get the aforementioned man. 

–

Mihawk hurriedly approached the main tent, where Buggy had been busy all day. Trying to sort through every member of his crew while simultaneously handling Cross Guild business. It was difficult juggling the two, but he had done more in the past. 

It was troubling that he didn’t know his own crew as well as he thought. 

There was a frightened shriek outside. Head whipping up, he faced the sound. Going to stand, Buggy went to go check it out before his questions were answered. 

“Clown.”

“What. What happened!?”

He jumped up, ready to fight whoever the hell had made Mihawk himself seek him out. 

“The Archivist has been attacked in the Records Room. Crocodile was the one who found them first.”

“When!?”

“Just now. Hurry, they’re already being cared for by your nurses.”

“What are we waiting for then!? LET’S GO!”

“After you, Clown.”

And Buggy ran off, leading the way back to the tent. 

Mihawk followed, wondering where exactly Crocodile was. The man was efficient, so what was taking him so long? 

Pushing the thought away for later, Mihawk pushed through into the tent. Buggy had already been hovering nervously around your form. You had only just started being sewn together. He had thought they would’ve been further along by now, but perhaps the damage was worse than he initially observed. 

The Clown constantly turned every which way, desperate to be useful and help however he could. Finally laying eyes on Mihawk after their brief separation, he rushed the swordsman. Fingers tagging into his jacket lapels, the Clown got in his face, pushing him back and forth. 

“The whole story, tell me the whole story!”

“There’s not much to say. They allowed the woman to stab them. After, they got her on the floor. She hit them across the face and that was when we stepped in.” Purposefully omitting the part where he had been the one in particular to intervene. It had been too much for him to just stand there and watch, especially when that distant look appeared back in your eyes. It significantly dulled their beauty, a haunting look. 

Buggy’s eyes flashed in understanding. If it was a woman and had something to do with Arlong you had more than likely felt responsible for whatever happened. Not to mention your natural affinity to sad women. Huffing in frustration, he ignored the growing worry. 

Buggy released him, pushing him back to return to your side. 

Sighing, the swordsman went to grab a chair off the side. Relaxing back against the wood, Mihawk allowed himself to shut his eyes. Rubbing against his temples, he tried to dispel the growing headache. 

Hours passed just as such. No sight of Crocodile in the time it took for you to be sewn and bandaged. 

Buggy had been in and out, not staying stationary for very long. If idle, his thoughts wandered and he would grow frustrated with you and himself. You knew better than to let yourself get hit as such. You were strong, a fact Buggy knew firsthand. To have gone and let some random woman stab you…even if you felt guilty, there was no reason for you to have gotten injured so severely. 

Glancing back at Mihawk, Buggy asked the question of the hour.

“Where is Crocodile?”

Mihawk cracked open his eyelids, peeking from under his hat. 

“I told him to take that woman into custody. I do not know where he is at this moment.”

Buggy grumbled, turning on his heel and flourishing his way out of the medical tent. 

Turning to you, Mihawk spoke again. Raising to his feet, he approached your side.

“He’s gone now. Though I recommend you make it quick, he is incredible with Observation. You cannot avoid his questions for long.”

You slowly opened one eye, flustered at being seen through so easily. 

“I do not wish to disappoint him. He is a brother to me, the only family I have.”

Mihawk crouched to meet your eyes. Hands reaching up to clasp your own between his palms. 

“I also have questions, dove.”

Grimacing, you tried to avoid looking at him. He kissed his teeth in annoyance. One of his hands released his hold to clasp it on your jaw. Turning your head back to meet his prying eyes, he held your gaze.

“Why allow yourself to be harmed in such a preventable way? You are on a Yonko’s crew, and I may not have witnessed it myself, but I do know you are not weak. Even if just by watching you interact with Buggy and Crocodile.”

Sighing, you tried to find a way to explain yourself in a way he may understand. 

“While under Arlong, I created many contracts. One of which impacted this woman without even knowing. Her lover was the one in the bind, but it caused such a strain that she killed herself. I remember hearing about it after she did so. Arlong had come in looking too smug the next day. So I had asked why he was in such high spirits.”

Voice cracking for a second, you sucked in a breath before continuing. 

“He had said he was proud of me…”

Mihawk watched closer as you closed your eyes once again. 

No one had ever been so happy with your actions before. Never had someone been proud. Even thinking about it now your throat closed up in emotion.

“What was he to you.”

And that was the real question, wasn't it? Why did you stay under him for so long when he treated you like that. Why not run away the first chance you got? In truth, you...

“I don’t know. I didn’t particularly like him, and it certainly wasn’t love.”

“Do not mistake my questions for judgement. I am simply trying to understand.”

He smoothed his palm over your hair, fixing the strays back into place. You laughed humorlessly. 

“So what do you truly think of him then?”

“...I…He was like a father to me at times.”

Frowning, Mihawk grasped at straws, trying to the pieces together.

“Did you not have one.”

You shook your head.

“I do not, especially not after I left.”

Trying to put this in a less harsh way, Mihawk tried to explain. 

“Fathers are not supposed to put their hands on their children.”

Coming closer, Mihawk bumped his forehead to yours. Eyebrows furrowed. 

“But-”

“No.”

You quieted, no response to his statements. He backed away to look at you once again. Standing up, he let go of his hold on your hands. 

–

Mihawk had explained your explanation to Buggy, but not to the full extent of the entire conversation. He did not want to betray your trust after receiving it so recently. 

He had, of course, went off on you once seeing you awake. But the worried tears in Buggy’s eyes had calmed you down during his rant. After that, news had spread of you being alright again. With that Crocodile had reappeared. 

Strutting into your tent, the man smirked at you. Patting your head with his hook, the strong wannabe conqueror loomed over you.

“Finished worrying us, Plover?”

Huffing, you glared at him. Granted, once he looked down at you, you couldn't help but smile at him. Cocking a brow, you covered your mouth and tried to cover up the laugh. 

“What is that nickname, anyways, huh?”

This time Crocodile blushed, trying to avoid looking directly at you. Coughing into his fist, he diverted your attention somewhere else. Desperate to circle around explaining where the name came from. 

You watched as he danced around the topic, discussing literally anything else but. 

“Alright, alright, keep your secrets, Reptile Man.”

He shot you a playful glare, flicking your head. 

“You worried me, bird. Especially when everyone knows that you can take care of yourself. What are you stupid, letting someone stab you like that.”

Groaning, you dramatically threw yourself back. Arm thrown over your eyes, you continued to make obscure sounds conveying your distress.

He smiled at you, trying to laugh as discreetly as he could. 

Face softening, you watched the man.

“Crocodile.”

Humming, he jerked up his head.

“What.”

“Thank you. I’m glad to have someone like you as a friend.”

His eyes wide, he gaped for a second. Quirking an eyebrow, Crocodile answered. 

“Friend?”

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes. Crossing his arms, he postured his way out towards the door. Pretending to be enraged at being talked about in such a way.

He stopped at the entrance, hesitating. 

“Likewise.”

–

The weeks went by, with you strengthening your connections to the surprisingly soft hearted men. 

Buggy was your Captain and brother, a man you admired more than anyone else. He was nothing like Arlong, a kind man and an even better comrade. Not to mention a genius the likes the world was yet to be prepared for. 

Crocodile was a gruff one, but opened up with a little whiskey soothing his throat. He was a wonderful friend, always there for you when you needed advice. Brutal. Advice. But also when you needed a pick me up. He was a great pep talker, there for you when you were stuck in your own head. 

And then there was Mihawk. 

Since your little incident, he had been beside you constantly. Lingering, but always productive to look as if he was there for a reason. You could feel his eyes on your back, every other hour he would look up and check. As if he was waiting for something. 

You decided to approach him about it. 

“Mihawk?”

He continued to flip through his book, but made it apparent he was actively listening. 

You grew anxious, worrying if you were overthinking everything now. 

“I…nevermind.”

Sensing the hesitation, the man marked his page before shutting it. Making sure you saw his eyes, he began to speak.

“You can be honest with me. What is it you wanted to ask, dove?”

“Forgive me if I am being too forward, but…”

Scratching the back of your neck, you gathered the courage to ask. 

“May I ask why you are following me around recently?”

Resting his head on his hand, he closed his eyes in thought. Seeming to find his answer, Mihawk took off his hat and placed it on the table along with his discarded book. 

Growing nervous, you started to back up as he rose to his feet. 

Walking nearer and nearer, Mihawk entered into your personal space. 

Before making any kind of move, he glanced at you for permission. 

Trusting him for some damn reason, you nodded.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he drew you in. His other arm came in your field of vision, fingers grasping your chin and directing your face to his. 

“I find myself worrying about you every second I am away from you. Since you let yourself get hurt so carelessly, I have decided to watch you so that it does not happen again.”

“I can take care of myself-!”

“That is not the reason I am here. It is because I care for you that I am. You may be able to take care of yourself, but you choose not to. I want to be by your side, if you would have me.”

His voice was melodic, floating and meeting your ears with bliss. He was kind, there for you, attractive, and he worried. Truly worried for you. 

Despite the act of being cool headed and put together, you wavered. Trying to cough to divert his attention from the rising blush. 

But, that was all for not. After all, he was Hawkeyes for a reason. 

He chuckled, lips quirked up at the corners of his mouth in amusement. His thumb caressed your cheeks, admiring the blush adorning your features.

“Embarrassed? I am only relaying my affection for you, dove. I thought I was rather obvious.”

Noses touching, he tilted your face to meet yours perpendicular to his own.

Pressing his mouth to yours, he tried to convey how honest his feelings were for you. His facial hair tickled against your lips, but you ignored that in favor for the bliss you were feeling instead. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes were watching to find any source of discomfort. Seeing none, he closed his own and leaned in further to you. 

Humming, you pressed harder, licking against the seam of his lips. Chuckling, Mihawk parted from you. 

“Dracule.”

He breathed, voice soft and genuine. 

“Dracule.”

You tested out the foreign name.

Dracule moaned quietly, gasping at the way the word rolled off your tongue. Admittedly, he had not expected for it to have such an impact on him. Without realizing, both his hands were grasping the sides of your face, pushing you once again against him in earnest. 

And who were you to deny such a man?

[beanghostprincess]

Adding on to generalized chronic pain issues, specifically Devil fruit users-

The human body is about 60% water.

There's water in bone too, sorry Brook, no saving yourself there.

DF users have to keep up on hydration, but what if their inability to tolerate water includes ANY kind of water.

Luffy v Crocodile last fight in Alabasta, fighting with his blood - it affected him.

Tears? Big impacts.

Humidity? Rain? Storms? The affects are relatively minor but they are Still There. Most DF users, after an overexposure to water/rain/heavy humidity, will at best have a slight headache. At worst? Those old wives tales of staying out in the rain leading to sickness are REAL.

With my Buggy obsession, I am leaning heavily into impacts to him and those around him. So Buggy's immune system is WACKED out, both bc hus nervous system never quite got with the program of his powers and genetic predisposition. It's one of the reasons he got sick just before Laugh Tale. Fevers weren't uncommon for him AT ALL which is why none of the other Rogers were very concerned.

Shanks, though? He knew. He and Buggy had a whole ass SYSTEM for dealing with it. ((A system he drunkenly regaled Mihawk with often enough for the swordsman to have it committed to memory.))

Buggy studies medicine a bit, and so any Devil fruit users on Karai Bari have a specialty medicine made specifically with their abilities, biology, etc, in mind - including Crocodile. He doesn't let them suffer alone, bc he knows how it is and he refuses to let any of HIS be subjected to that.

Buggy just also doesn't reach out himself when he isn't doing well - enter Mihawk being like "Hello, I - stop screaming - I brought you your tea. Shanks waxed poetic about your teas for hours. Yes, I am aware of the time. No, I do not care that you are under dressed. Lay back down. I brought medicine for your headache."

Cue goth swordsman awkwardly going through the motions of caring for a sick, needy but very hesitant clown. And eventually he even finds the other... rather cute, all sleepy and smiling and soft spoken.

Gross.

Crocodile eventually catches on and swings by, intending to bully Buggy a bit, but then he ALSO get charmed and reminded of the balms for his scars, the specialty drinks Buggy had made for him, and he just... can't.

It becomes p normal when Karai Bari has a higher humidity level or rain incoming for even the regular, standard officers to remind the DF users among them to take it easy, not push it, and it's silly and over the top bc they can't he expected to do anything less.

((Bonus silly idea, Buggy is out helping with muscle work before a big storm hits, even the typical human mercs can feel the moisture in the air, and one dude just. Scoops Buggy up, all sunshine smiles like "let us handle this, Chairman Buggy! Someone as incredibly kind and courageous as yourself can rest easy with us here!"

Buggy is both flattered, offended and flustered in one go. Flattered bc "oh they DO care...", offended bc this guy did NOT just baby him did he???, and flustered bc aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaBeingHeldHELP?????

Croc would either choke on his cigar or just scoop buggy up from the other guy like "i got this, carry on"

Mihawk thought would probably shatter his wine glass, expressionless, and grab n go.

No they are NOT jealous, no they did NOT think the blush was cute on their clown- THE CLOWN, no, everyone shut up, the rain is getting to their heads, fuck off.))

This is awesome. The whole concept about DF users being affected by regular water too is great because it just adds more angst to the whole thing and it becomes more of a risk to eat the fruits. Gonna skip directly to the Cross Guild thing and say that I am SO soft and weak for Croc and Mihawk to end up smitten by Buggy somehow when they weren't planning on it. And they're so protective and take care of him and,,,, That's their boyfriend idc idc idc.

[shadowfear-art]

I saw your one piece animated for terror au and it's amazingggg!

But could you maybe tell more about it? Is there gonna be a fic of it? (It there is it'll be awesome-)

Sadly no fic cause I can't write a full story to save my life... Anyway-

Ah ye! If you are new to the Au itself (because I've been using the concept for other fandoms so there are established rules and world building that carry over) I'll give a quickest general background summery then the story itself.

Future me note: This ended up being more than a summary.

There's a ancient eldritch pen that turns anything into a toon/living drawing, usually with the needed help of a human hand to wield it.

Basically pen finds a vulnerable human, tempts them to draw out their woes or wants (whether they want to or not), leaves them with the consequences and fate of creating a living cartoon character with all the chaos that happens in between. There's an abundance of good, bad, ugly, and bitter sweet endings to these "stories".

Toons tend to dissapear sometime after as they have a place to dwell.

Now for Luffy, age 5, modern universe setting, living on Windmill Island (but not for long). Tho this story deviates from the normal formula.

Luffy has always been surrounded by people and his two close 'brothers' for the short 5 years of his life it was perfect. Until it wasn't and does what it always does, life changes. The people around the boy had begun to move on as they were needed elsewhere.

Garp was called over seas, something military? Luffy didn't really pay attention.

Shanks travels the world as an occupation.

Funny enough both of his brothers were involved in a custody battle and were required off the island to attend.

And so on and so forth, all promising to return.

Leaving Luffy alone in the care of Makino, as time went on a large ache began growing in his tiny chest. Taking the notice of something sinister.

"...Follow me... follo... me..."

"... I have... Something to... show you..."

A dark pied piper began singing it's deceitful tune into the childs dreams and eventually lure him out at night.

---

On the other end of this trap is two murder toons Crocodile and Doflamingo, both sent from toon world to take care of a certain annoying goup of intrest.

Toons are chaotic creatures thats no secret but thier existence is due to how crafty and dangerous they can be as a whole (not that humans haven't tried to let the world know about them just always seemingly fail from coincidence) so obviously there's an agency out to take care of these creatures, N.E.T (Neutralization and Extraction of Toons) Is their codename.

The more violent toons are sent out remove the growing annoyance.

And this night was no different, NET agency was taking root on the island so the duo are there to be an effective deterant... And relive some violent needs. Win-win.

Then Luffy walked right in to the situation.

Crocodile knew a trap when he saw one, just was figuring out what type... Or the boy actually wandered into a massacre in the middle of the night, ALONE.

Right.

Needless to say he had the right approach, scare the child and inflict a small "scratch" to cement he's not supposed to be here, if everything goes right the boy will run away bawling his eyes out. A better option than what Doflamingo had in mind.

What he didn't account for was the half dead agent behind his distracted self shooting right through him unable to see the small human due to the toons large size and cloak. It didn't hit Luffy but splattered him with ink, which is essentially the toons blood, new problem for the child.

The black liquid is 99% lethal if it entered a living beings blood system and just having inflicted a wound across the boys cheek Crocodile can now count the minutes before the tiny human collapses.

Unfortunate but perhaps the boy may appreciate the large toon return the favor to another neglectful adult in his short life.

Quick work.

Doflamingo was the first to catch that the kid wasn't dead after.

For the first time in years Crocodile felt his ink run cold, it was a trap.

It was always a trap for him.

The 1%, only if the two are compatible, instead of dying forces beyond understanding would convert living creatures into what they are.

White and black splotches have already begun to appear across the boy's skin, hair, and clothes with increasing speed.

Unsurprisingly both boy and tthon start to show two types of panic, Luffy being the louder soon becoming disoriented with confusion and Crocodile's mind racing to find a option that didn't involve killing a kid... That being said It wasn't off the table.

Before he could come to a conclusion both large toons noticed that their time was up and had to leave immediately.

All three of them.

The last thing heard were echoing wails for those who promised to return to the child's side now gone to a place they could never reach.

End. And the Beginning.

(This au has a B plot)

[crocwearingcryprid]

I have no Idea how to name this au guy's....

Summary: Elias Bouchard knew a lot about Jonah, that's kinda what happens when you're stuck in the guy's subconscious for more than twenty years unable to move or say anything while the bastard uses your body, he couldn't even see all that great since the silvery bratty eyes in his skull weren't actually his.

Needless to say he was not a fan of Jonah, so when Melanie throws coffee in the guy's eyes making him temporarily subdued while blinded Elias takes the chance and removes Jonah the way he came from.

By carving out his eyes obviously.

What next you ask? Elias didn't think that far, but hey! He's rich now with a hot lonely sailor around in the area, sky daddy supplying him with weed and two of his employees' who need help with coming to terms with their fat gay crushes on each other and a whole institute to run wild.

Oh, and Jonah watching from the jar, maybe he'll add glitter to it, bet it would sting.

Chapter one:

Elias smirked, stirring the coffee just finishing his remark about poisons. Children these days knew nothing on how to kill people it seemed. Suddenly the cup was snatched back from him, spilling some of it onto his lap and desk. He hissed looking up at the woman ready to speak but just as he opened his mouth Melanie threw the coffee straight at his eyes and it was such a fast movement without conscious thought even beholding didn't predict it. Slaughter was like that, instant and burning. His eyes were burning, his eyes- Something in the back of his skull pressed forward and Elias let out a whine world going black.

Elias took a breath, snapped his head towards Melanie and pushed her away, walking forward grabbing the door handle in order the flee the scene as fast as he could… but before that he looked in her direction which was a blurry mess right now and said as loudly as he could;

"You're fired." Melanie gasped and Elias was gone.

He still had the tiny spoon clutched in his hand.

His fingers brushed against the tiled wall of the bathroom squeezing his eyelids tightly, only one thing spinning round in his mind.

Don't wake up, don't wake up, fucking please-

His hands gripped the sink and he turned on the water rinsing out the spoon. He opened one of Johna's eyes with his thumb and pointer finger keeping the eyelid as wide as it was possible, then he aligned the spoon against it taking a long breath.

Time to carve him out. He smiled in panic, feeling the man pressing against his temple from inside, not yet conscious, their vision was too fucked up for the Eye to have enough power to keep Jonah awake in this state. The eyes would soon heal though, they always did no matter how hard Elias tried. Not this time though.

He pressed the small spoon underneath the eyeball, biting his lip bloody, with a whimper he split it as far as he could and pulled.

The eyeball fell into the sink with a loud splat making his stomach recoil. Jonah screamed, he could feel his trying to pull himself back up front but he was too slow. Elias already dug the spoon into their second eye.

The world went black, his face flushed and sticky from blood.

His face, his face, his own again, his, his, his…

Elias started laughing because there was nothing to cry from anymore.

The eyeballs were moving, he could hear them splashing inside the sink like two little shrimps. Elias didn't know how long he sat there on the floor but he hadn't heard anyone approach the door which was good.

"Shut up Jonah." He muttered through the pain briefly, wondering If he could just flush his down the toilet, no, no Elias didn't want to give the guy any chances, the last thing he needed was a Beholding crocodile with very human eyes and vendetta against him. He needed a jar but there was no way he could go to the kitchen like this, would Rosie help without asking any questions? Elias wasn't sure.

Garbage bag for now it is. He extended his foot looking for one of the small trash cans, he hit one and took out the bag leaving the interior on the floor.

It was weird moving his body, for years he just watched but the vision was like looking through a wavy glass, they weren't his eyes after all, the only thing he could do was listen and listen… Maybe that's why the blindness came easier to him. It was still fucking terrifying but manageble.

Jonah wiggled, grabbing Elia's hand with the eye's exposed nerves trying to bury underneath his skin. Gross.

"I can still squash you with my shoe!" He shoved the eyeballs into the trash bag and took a breath. Time to come back to their office and find some sunglasses.

-¹-

"Wait, he really fired you?"

"You tried to poison him!?" Marin hissed in panic, his round eyes going even wider. He couldn't help but glance at the coffee staining Melanie's shirt.

"If all it takes is splashing Elias with a hot beverage- I can't believe I'm going to say this but Marin; make us some tea." Tim grinned. Jon winced not looking too convinced.

"Did you test it?" Jon asked as always the bringer of bad news. "Do you feel any… Different?"

"No, but- shit I just told you I got fired."

"Yes, but…"

"I'm fired!" Melanie screamed then smiled like a mad woman. "See? It worked I can fucking say it."

"I got fired." She continued. "And Elias can shove it up his twink tight ass!" She started gathering her things and putting them back inside her bag. "Sorry guys but I'm gonna go before he changes his mind or something… Would say see you later but I would rather not." She laughed again.

"Wait." Jon extended his hand looking Melanie up and down, his pupils did that twitchy thing they did when he was concentrating.

"Try to say the Q word." Jon continued. Martin let out a small sigh, getting tired of this conversation. Tim was far too close to Melanie looking at her like at a science experiment or Jesus reincarnate sent to save them all.

"My fucking God Jon."

"Just do it."

"I Qu-" She choked on the word. "I Qui-" Melanie's face went red and Marin decided to make tea before tables went flying. "This little fucking bitch-!"

"Way to get our hopes up." Tim looked like a kicked puppy, he muttered. Jon flinched a bit at her outburst which made Martin feel sad, it wasn't Jon's fault but everyone seemed to think It was for some reason.

"I'm going to kill him."

"Yeah, pick something better than drugged coffee next time." Tim waved a hand, then brightened. "Hey I'm sure If Martin brought him a poisoned tea bastard would actually fall for it.

"Tim…" Martin rolled his eyes. "No. Just no." He shook his head. "We can't kill our boss, have you all forgotten that? And even If we could, what the hell? Can't we do something like I don't know in ATLA take all his bad guy powers- Like, like they did with the fire lord!" Jon's face did something weird at the reference but Tim and Melanie seemed to get it even If they didn't approve.

"That's a kid's cartoon." Jon said after a while, everyone ignored him.

-²-

Elias didn't know how to go back home, there was no way he could work his phone, completely blinded and he couldn't get out and walk there in this condition either. He barely got to his office unnoticed.

Jonah was currently occupying a very fancy jar filled with water. Elias could hear the eyeballs clanking against the glass every now and then.

The adrenaline rush was starting to go down and it hurt so fucking much, still less then when Jonah inside Wright's body did it to him. A shiver ran down his spine.

Don't think about it.

He sat down on the floor next to his desk and started slowly undoing his shirt taking off all the layers. He pressed the soft material to his eyes to soak up the blood. How was he even going to clean it when he can't fucking see? Jesus that was going to be harder than Elias thought. He needed to go home and get high and maybe put Jonah's jar into the microwave.

His office door creaked. Fuck. Whoever it was didn't make a sound just stood there, he jerked his head up a little trying to think of something. If they weren't screaming or calling the ambulance it must be someone from the Archival crew, If it's Melanie again he's screwed. He could hear their breathing accessing the scene and… There was a faint smell of tea.

"... Yes, Martin?" Martin made a choked noise like he was swallowing down his own vomit. "Martin…" Elias got up on shaky legs clenching at the bloody spoon before pointing it at Martin.

"If you tell anyone about this i'm going to fuck your mom."

"W-what?"

-³-

[ohc-and-the-music-tapes-archive]

Article in Flagpole, 18 May 2005, about Olivia Tremor Control playing at the All Tomorrow’s Parties Festival. 

[source]

transcript:

JUMPING FENCES

The Olivia Tremor Control Was Briefly Resurrected At Two Shows In England; Multi-Instrumentalist John Fernandes Offers His Take On The Festival Experience.

Friday, April 22

I wake up and walk around the compound to figure out the layout. The All Tomorrow's Parties festival (34 bands and approximately 3,000 people) takes over this holiday park on the off season and the stages are in a Family Fun Center with big plastic smiling crocodiles, an arcade, cafeteria, pub and bars at both the upstairs and downstairs stages.

I'm glad we are going to play upstairs, because the stage downstairs is along the long wall of a slightly narrow room, usually causing a little of a bottleneck to get to the bar on the far end of the room, and it seems like the lights from the stage are shining right in the audience's eyes when they are trying to watch the shows. The upstairs room is huge, must have been where they had ballroom dances or something back in the day. They have rear speakers facing the back part of the room, supposed to give a cranking mix to those sitting on the risers back there, if the risers weren't full, and most people were sitting down, it would tum into a big slap-back chamber. It would make a standard rock band sound interesting if you walked around back there, but I want to get them to face those speakers inward for when we played so that we could do quad sound like we did at the 40 Watt.

I start wandering through the chalets to find my way to the beach; I should have brought a map because I keep hitting fence. I finally ask a guard, find the exit for the compound, and it’s only a short jaunt to the beach from there. And what a beautiful beach, but a little too chilly to swim.

We came with a full lineup—Will Hart, Bill Doss, Pete Erchick, Eric Harris, me, Scott Spillane, Julian Koster, Hannah Jones. I find my way back to the compound and spot Will and Scott talking to (actor, musician and festival curator] Vincent Gallo in the lobby of the main center. He’s in the middle of thanking the band for playing the festival. He says that he’s followed The Olivia Tremor Control for a long time, and had seen us play at Spaceland in Los Angeles years ago. He also comments that there were five bands that he really wanted to play, and we were the only one of those five who confirmed, and that he was actually quite surprised that we said yes. Magazine was one of the other bands that he wanted, but some of the members had started fighting and they ended up not being able to do it.

I head upstairs just in time for the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion; they haven't changed a bit from when I saw them in New Orleans at the Howlin’ Wolf more than 12 years ago.

Merzbow is intense, but Will thinks it could have been even louder. My friend Omar had given us big expectations because he said that when he saw Merzbow in New York, it was massively loud two blocks away, and that when he got into the club he blacked-out and woke up under a table. I remain upright at this performance, but am impressed by the tidal wave of sound.

AfriRampo is a crazy energetic Japanese duo, and I know a few people who thought they were one of the best things at the festival.

I only catch a little of Peaches, but end up staying up really late exercising to Belle & Sebastian's deejays, who are mixing it up at the downstairs stage.

Saturday, April 23

Vitamin B-12 on the downstairs stage is a lot of fun. This gang pretty much transported their living room from Brighton to the stage—very improvisational, 10 to 13 people sitting on the ground playing balloons, bells, etc. Brings back fond memories of Dixie Blood Mustache or the Claybears. I miss many of the other things today because we are preparing to play.

A highlight for the whole trip for me is when Julian asks Ted Curson and his band to march with us on “Grass Cannons”—and they say yes! I mean, this man played trumpet on the classic Charles Mingus Presents Charles Mingus with Eric Dolphy and Dannie Richmond, as well as killer sessions by Cecil Taylor and tons of great records under his own name. He is a legend to me, and there he is soloing out over the top while we hold the chords and snake our way through the crowd towards the stage just like we did at the 40 Watt. The show feels great!

Afterwards, we're talking to Bruce Cox, the drummer with Curson’s band, and he says that he really enjoyed the show, and that the march had brought him back to the days when he played with the Sun Ra Arkestra! Turns out he lived in the Arkestra’s group home in Philadelphia, and played with them for a number of years. Bruce is a really cool guy, and we have some pretty special times hanging out with him this weekend. I only catch a little of P.J. Harvey, and take off after her stage manager accuses me of stealing when I pick up a water bottle from the dressing room backstage. Suicide is good—from what I gather this duo laid the framework down for the bass-heavy, synthy-electro-style that is still quite popular today.

Sunday, April 24

I have juice and coffee in the morning after staring at the sky all night. Make it to the compound just in time for Ted Curson’s smoking set. In addition to his fine trumpet playing, he starts singing on lovely versions of “Round Midnight” and “Georgia on My Mind.” I later catch a song by Jayne County, an over-the-top trans-vestite rock and roll'band from New York. They are wrapping up a version of “California Uber Alles.”

Next on the main stage is a Vienna-based trio named Trapist. I thoroughly enjoy this performance. The band has an upright bass and a guy with a table full of stuff that he is using (o modulate his guitar and lap steel, as well as tweaking out lines that he had run from the drummers kit. Texture masters. Good to watch up close so as to appreciate the subtleties of their techniques.

James Chance & the Contortions are a blast: his brother as the dancing foal to his wicked persona. The guy is still sporting a pompadour, and skronky as ever on saxophone. The Zombies throw me for a loop, really just Rod Argent and Colin Blunstone from the original band. I mostly end up hearing some really stick songs from their later solo careers, then take off.

Yoko Ono has small flashlights handed out right before she plays, with a card printed with a concept piece pertaining to sending love into the universe. The crowd is supposed to blink, “I love you” in Morse code during the final song. It's a little sad because I think most of the crowd pocketed the flashlights and I see the cards lying all over the ground. Yoko is still seriously wailing even though she’s 72 years old!

I end up staying out late while deejays are happening downstairs. I get back to the chalets and who comes walking up but Pete with some Welsh friends and Kevin Shields from My Bloody Valentine. What a perfect way to end the weekend, staying up till dawn talking music. Kevin says that last time he was in Athens was when My Bloody Valentine played the 40 Watt with Dinosaur Jr. I say to him, “If Dinosaur is back rocking together, why doesn’t My Bloody Valentine hit the road?” He laughs and says that they were a year behind back then, so their comeback might be a year behind as well. When they do return, he talks about wanting to line the walls of clubs with amps, with a delay running in between each one of them, so that as you get further back the sound is more delayed, a wave of sound.

He jokes about how his ex-girlfriend is always making fun of him for the fact that he’s always talking about the late ‘80s, and we laugh because we are always saying “remember the late ‘90s” when things come up that remind us of the era of Olivia Tremor Control. We talk about mastering, because I tell him that my friend Derek has remastered Loveless for our own enjoyment, and he says that he hadn't even heard the vinyl reissue because Warmer Bros. licensed it without telling him, and that he’s never even seen any money from Loveless sales in the States. He is working on a collection of b-sides and rarities that should be out soon.

I ask him about working on the soundtrack to Lost in Translation and he says it was weird because other than a few of the actors and actresses, most of the crew producing it was pretty lame. He was really happy with the mastering of the stuff he contributed, and the way it was mixed with the sounds of the movie. He seems fascinated by the way they could pocket a snare hit right under the dialog when the voice comes in etc. Eric’s alarm goes off because we are flying out early, and Scott starts yelling, “Bar's closed!” and telling everybody to leave. Kevin just smiles and chuckles about how familiar it all seems. The flight home is a real daze, that’s for sure.

John Fernandes

[ilaikyuu]

2. "I'll protect you, I promise" with Gojo

here u go sweetie:

🥀Yandere! Gojo Satoru x reader🥀

Warnings: blood, slight mentions of violence,

 gaslighting, manipulation

You were feeling cold, not only in the outside but in the inside as well. The night breeze was blowing into your bare skin making you shiver in agony. The air was going through every single one of your cuts, making it almost impossible to not quiver.  You didn't want to admit defeat, but even the smallest, simplest move was too painful, it was too much. Screaming and crying wasn't going to help either - no one was there to hear your blubbering except for him…and no, no you didn’t want to struggle anymore, you were almost done for. You couldn't endure more of this. 

There were loud, slow paced steps coming towards you, you were still on the garage floor, whimpering from the aching bruises located almost everywhere on your body.

 Just as he expected you were there waiting for him, what a good girlfriend you are.

The man crouched over your body, biting deeply into his soft lip. There was something he was holding onto, but your couldn't see what it was. His hand was coming closer to your body, moving just an inch under your ear to caress the upper part of your neck. You wanted to fight, you wanted to spit on him, but your body just….wasn't moving. You didn't have the strength anymore, your body gave up, you were giving up.

“ Gojo…p-p-pleaA..AHH '', the wound on your leg starting to bleed again making you cry in pain. Your body was trembling, at this point even breathing was hard. It was too much to bear, you couldn't do this anymore.

“Why did…did you d-do this to..to me”, a steady stream of tears started falling on the ground, you were stuttering, your voice was breaking, your heart was broken. It’s over. 

He gently moved his hand from your neck, trying to wipe the big crocodile tears from your puffy eyes. You were ugly crying. You were crying so ugly, even his face scrunched a bit from the pleadings that came from your mouth. He put on you the thing you saw him hold onto earlier, covering almost your whole body besides your head.

 It was a blanket . The cotton blanket you gifted him. You hated it, you didn't want this.

“Honey, please”, his voice almost as gentle as ever, concern giving the gentle note an even more angel-like appearance to the ears. 

“Stop doing this to yourself, to us.” 

His hand was once again stroking your left cheek, wiping every tear that was coming from your eye.

“It's dangerous outside…I…I don't know at this point…”

He shifted his head looking outside the garage at the big hill located at the left side of the house. He really loved playing there as a kid, but he did fall off a few times. It was dirty and steep, he never came back feeling good after falling there. 

His gaze was once again shifted on your messy face.

“At this point you are a danger to yourself, don’t misunderstand me…’’

The angles of his mouth curved.

“....I told you not to go there, I told you about all the times I fell down there. Look what you did to yourself.”

You moved your head a bit so you could look directly into his oh so beautiful vibrant blue eyes.

“Fell…down….a hill?” you felt so heavy. His hands were on you, not even a second passing and he was holding you in him.

“I didn’t….no I…”, the light touches you felt on your body felt soothing. You were just like a little kid getting comforted from his mother after hurting itself. 

“But of course you did, don’t you remember? You did hit your head really hard when you fell...”

His hands were softly touching your back, his head coming closer to you, a pair of lips whispering into your ear making you shiver once again:

“It’s okay now. You don't have to worry about anything, I’ll protect you, I promise.”

That’s right. You probably fell down. This was all a really bad nightmare. And it was okay, he was going to protect you from all the monsters that wanted to hurt you, even you.

[realcube]

how they use their quirk during sex

navi | masterlist | taglist 

thank you to anon for this request 

characters ♡ bakugo, kirishima, kaminari, dabi & tamaki

content warning ♡ slapping, electrostimulation, fire play, masturbation, mentions of voyeur, choking, oral (giving + receiving), blood kink, mention of knife play, unconventional organism eating & vagina-having reader - minors dni

katsuki bakugo 

♡ he likes to ensure that his slaps leave a mark

♡ just so everyone knows that you’re his

♡ just seeing you all marked up from his explosions and hand just gets him so hard tbh

♡ also, he loves squeezing you - it makes him feel powerful and dominant - so sometimes he just grabs a handful of your tit, squeezes it then proceeds to make you yelp by setting off a lil’ explosion in his hand 

♡ he’s no villain, but he definitely wants to hear you scream in pain or pleasure - either or both works 

♡ so whenever he is hitting it from behind and you feel a zing through your body after he spanks your thigh, mentally prepare yourself for trouble in regards to sitting down - for the next week or so 

♡ it’s a hard thing to do though because he needs to be 100% that he won’t seriously burn you or harm you, or else he literally wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror for the rest of...his life 

♡ so yeah, if he’s not completely confident in the fact he’ll be able to smack you without burning you, he just won’t do it 

♡ also, the little crackles and pops from miniature, involuntary explosions going off as he approaches his climax not only entertain you, but they also drown out his moans 

♡ not that he’s ashamed of the sounds he makes - he’s loud and proud - it’s just that the explosions help balance out the noise so it’s not just his grunts echoing throughout the room

♡  plus, they add ambience 

eijiro kirishima

♡ he hardens his back to avoid getting scratches on it lol

♡ it’s not that he doesn’t like getting marked up by you or anything, it’s just a hero instinct tbh

♡ but honestly, you like the feeling of your nails digging into his back then suddenly, the skin becomes sniffer around your fingers

♡ sometimes he accidentally employs his quirk while he is choking you because he gets so into it 

♡ or just as he is about to slap your thigh/ass

♡ he also has a bad habit of hardening when you are trying to give him hickeys

♡ so yeah, you’ll probably be left with bruises, hand prints and bite mark scattered across your inner thigh and torso after sex with kirishima and he leaves unscathed 

♡ also, idk if this is apart of his quirk but his pointy-ass teeth definitely come in handy - especially if you have a blood/biting kink

♡ kiri is willing to go full vampire for you <3

♡ also, you don’t need knives to do knife play with kiri - he is the knife (well, his teeth are) 

♡ he says sternly that he doesn’t enjoy knife/blood play but then he gets oddly aroused when drawing blood from your thigh or nibbling at your slit while he eats you out 

denki kaminari 

♡ i am so sorry but i can’t stop thinking about kami playfully zapping you during sex AAAA

♡ like if you are into electrostimulation- kaminari is basically your sex soulmate 

♡ also if you aren’t like super into electrostim but you give consent for him to lightly zap you from time to time, he will take advantage of that

♡ like just as you’re approaching your orgasm, he’ll shock you slightly so your moans are even louder and your pleasure is escalated 

♡ or sometimes during the foreplay, when he is just fondling with your breasts, he’ll give it a lil’ zap so you perk up and whine for him 

♡ he just loves seeing the way your whole body juts in reactions and how your nipples erect at the shock

♡ whenever he slaps your thigh/ass, it’ll always send somewhat of a current through your body, which arouses you even more 

♡ tickles your clit with electric sometimes just to add some flare 

♡ he might make you beg for his touch if you’re needy enough, then simply run his charged hand over your body teasingly

♡ but if you’re into full-on electrostimulation, he’s extreme picky about the times he is able to utilise his quirk bc now he’ll have to send larger currents (instead of just lil zaps which i assume are easily to control) so ofc he needs to be in the right headspace or he could potentially harm you and obviously, that’s the last him he wants to do

♡ so yeah, he probably trains his quirk extra to ensure that he can produce exactly the right amount of electricity for you

♡ omg and he is probably into mutual masturbation/voyeur !! bc you are like his goddess so ofc he gets off to seeing you touch yourself even if he isn’t the one providing the pleasure. also it really brings out his inner perv 

♡ so if you like to use toys when you masturbate, literally do not worry about any of them running out of charge/battery while you’re pleasuring yourself, kaminari has you covered bb 💅 

♡ also, outside of sex he probably playfully zaps you all the time - like if he is standing behind you, he’ll tap your shoulder followed by a little electric shock. which makes you jump and turn around to see him standing, whistling and averting his gaze unsuspectingly

♡ ‘what, kami? and ouch.’

♡ his eyes widened as he inhaled sharply with an offended look on his face, ‘eh, what?! i didn’t do anything!’

♡ you blinked rapidly, ‘who else has an electricity quirk nearby?’

dabi

♡ he mostly uses his quirk during the actual act of peneration

♡ he rarely uses it during foreplay 

♡ maybe just to set the mood by using his finger to light the candles on his bedside table or sumn 

♡ or, if you’re into fire play, he’ll drag his glowing finger across your chest to trace your curves while leaving a pale marks behind, shooting an erotic burning sensation through your body 

♡ or LORD he (lightly) burns his name into your skin !! so everyone knows you are his >:)

♡ i believe that - unlike the other boys - dabi is able to control his quirk pretty well all throughout sex, no matter what mood he is in

♡ so angry make-up sex with added fireplay isn’t completely out of the question

♡ though, he is a bit cruel so if he’s got your ass in his hands while he’s approaching his orgasm, he will purposefully burn marks into your skin

♡ however, everything comes with a price

♡ so although he can control his quirk at almost all times, he does not know how to deal with the aftermath pffft

♡ he’ll look at your bright red ass and how you are struggling to sit down and be like ‘put some aloe vera on it idfk 🤷‍♂️’ 

♡ anyway, just expect there to be burn marks on every part of your body that dabi touched

♡ the most painful ones are probably the ones he leave on your hips, while he holds your pretty figure in place and drills into you from behind

♡ or perhaps the ones he makes on the back of your head as he forces you take more of his cock into your mouth 

♡ then again, the burns on your neck once he has finished roughly choking you like a slut while pounding into your cunt, were also problematic  

♡ but the handprints he leaves on your torso as he feels around the bulge his massive cock makes in your stomach also hurt quite bad 

♡ god knows, but you’re just generally in pain after sex with dabi tbh

tamaki amajiki

♡ suneater more like pussyeater amarite

♡ this might be a lil bestiality-esque bc he is like a human who develops features of an animal but like..he is still a human, after all, so he can consent 

♡ but anyway, tw for anyone who doesn’t want to read anything of the sort !!

♡ ok, so, let’s get this out of the way first - tentacles 😍 KJVDKFVZDI

♡ he uses them exactly how you imagine he would; he simultaneous holds you down, massages your breast, covers your mouth, chokes you, slithers one up your cunt and one up your ass - just..everything...

♡ like if the tentacles are out, you know you are getting overstimulated that night

♡ also sometimes - if he’s feeling especially bold - he’ll slip one of his tentacles under your skirt while in public then just watch as you desperately try to stifle moans from how good he feels squirming inside you  

♡ you both like it a little more than you’d like to admit tbh

♡ also, one time he ate goose just so he could manifest wings and try fuck you mid-air lmao 

♡ that would’ve brought a whole new meaning to ‘flying fuck’

♡ unfortunately, it didn’t work as well as he had hoped as his wings couldn’t support both of your weight so it was more like him hovering over the bed while drilling into you from above 

♡ it was definitely a new angle though, so you couldn’t complain

♡ he’ll pinch your clit and squeeze your tits with his lobster claws but that’s about it - he generally doesn’t tend to manifest those during sex

♡ one of his dirtiest secrets is that one time, he paid crazy money for a dish with elephant meat in it, in hopes that he’d get a monster cock

♡ (no, the thought never occurred to him that perhaps horse would be a better, cheaper alternative)

♡ bc he highkey has a size kink but you’ve already kinda gotten use to his size so he needed to amp it up...

♡ but no- all he got was a trunk 😭

♡ however, it wasn’t all bad bc at least he made good use of that trunk- 

♡ (he shoved it so far up you, he hoped to see it come out your mouth 🥰)

♡ anyway, rapid-fire round:

♡ he once ate rabbit so he could develop bunny ears and a tail so he could be your cute lil’ bunny boy 🥺 while you peg him 

♡ buffalo wings get him riled up tbh - only top energy after he has buffalo wings 

♡ honestly, the beak he manifests after eating chicken lowkey destroys your cunt- 

♡ the leathery skin he gets after eating crocodile makes him feel badass

♡ oh! and the sharp teeth too- like kirishima, he will go full-vampire if you want him too

♡ his quirk is so versatile, just let your imagination run wild lmao ✨  

♡ plus, he is pretty whipped for you so he's basically down to try anything

[marauderundercover]

Day 6: Party

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE 

Continuation of days two and three

Marinette grins at her reflection in the mirror. The costume was perfect- close enough to the original that you could tell who she was, but also with her own touch so that she didn’t hate looking at the costume. She’d even curled her hair slightly. The knock at the front door makes her squeal in excitement, knowing exactly who it is. 

“Cass!” She cheers, opening the door and grinning widely at her best friend. Sure, Cass didn’t talk a lot (she was like Luka in that way), but she always seemed to know when Marinette needed help out of her own head. And she was eternally grateful for that. She was even more grateful that Cass had agreed to do a duo costume with her since Jason apparently didn’t want to dress up. He was ‘too old’ or something. Well, Marinette wanted to have fun and wear a damn costume. 

“The suit is amazing! I’m not sure the cowl I made will be good enough for it.” Marinette says worriedly, examining the stitches on Cass’ costume. “Where’d you say you got this?” She asks, frowning. It was definitely higher quality than the Halloween store downtown. Cass just smiles, the one that basically says ‘not telling’. Mari just grins, used to it by now. She passes the cowl to Cass and grabs her own domino mask, sliding it on. Posing next to Cass in the full length mirror, Marinette takes a picture and sends it to the group chat that Jason had recently added her to. Dropping her phone into her purse and grabbing her keys, she turns to Cass. 

“Ready?” She asks. 

“Ready.” Cass says. Marinette grins. Look out, Gotham, Batman and Robin are out on the town. 

---

Dick squeals as the picture comes through on the groupchat. He was beyond relieved that Jagged had scheduled his Halloween party two weeks before the actual holiday. It meant that he, and the rest of his brothers, could actually go instead of being on the extra patrols they always had to schedule around the holiday. Grinning, he opens twitter. 

@flyingrayson

Look at my little sisters! Aren’t they the cutest?! #halloween #Waynefam #jaggedstone

[image description: One girl stands with a hand on her hip, dressed in what is obviously a spin on a Robin costume, including: a domino mask, black tights, dark red tunic with a Robin logo, gold belt, knee high emerald boots, and a dual sided cape black on the outside and gold on the inside. Another girl stands next to her with her arms crossed over her chest, dressed in what is obviously a Batman costume, including: black catsuit, yellow utility belt, black cape, and a redesigned black cowl.]

---

Marinette pecks Jason’s cheek and grins. 

“What, not a Robin fan?” She asks teasingly at his frown. He huffs. 

“Not really. More of a...Red Hood guy.” He says, and she snorts. 

“Of course you’d like the one with guns.” She says, shaking her head with a smile. “His costume is actually probably one of my favorites. Well, besides the whole helmet thing.” Jason grins, pulling her in and giving her a sweet kiss before he glances behind her and groans. 

“My brothers just walked in.” He says and she smiles. 

“Go say hi, I’ve gotta go ask Uncle Jagged a question really quick. I’ll be right back and Cass and I can show your brothers our awesome costumes in person.” She says, pecking his cheek before walking away. She looks around for Jagged, but frowns when she doesn’t see him in the main room. Pulling out her phone, she sends him a quick text asking where he is. 

In the garden with Fang!!!!!!!

She shakes her head fondly. Of course he skipped out on his own party to spend time with his crocodile. Smiling, she heads out to the garden to try and get to him. She’d wanted to see if the man planned on being in the US around Thanksgiving. Bruce had already invited her (probably to get Jason to show up) and said she could invite any of her family as well. Since her parents and superhero partner were both dead and her grandparents didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, she decided she’d really love Jagged and Penny to come instead. As she walks outside, she’s shocked that Fang doesn’t immediately run up to her. 

“Uncle Jagged?” She calls, frowning. Where was he? And why was it so dark out here? Fang was scared of the dark. Jagged never would have brought him outside without more lights on, he was too protective of him. She tenses when she notices a slumped figure next to the bench Jagged had put in the gardens for when she visits. It was one of her favorite places to sit and design. 

“Hello?” She calls, watching the figure for any movement. Seeing none, she steps closer and her stomach drops. Immediately she runs over and checks her Uncle for a pulse. She sighs in relief when she feels it, but the gash on his head is worrisome. How-

“Hello, Birdie!” An amused voice rings behind her, making her blood run cold. She whirls around and manages to catch a glimpse of the man’s pale face before a thick piece of metal flies at her head and the world goes black. 

---

“Jaybird! Where’s Mari and Cass? They’re blowing up on twitter, even MDC liked my tweet!” Dick says happily, making Jason scowl. 

“Did you seriously post my girlfriend all over your twitter?” He asks grumpily. Dick nods. 

“Oh yeah. Her and Cass looked too cute to keep it to ourselves. Where are they anyway?” Dick asks, scanning the room. 

“M said she needed to go talk to her Uncle about something. Personally, I think she was just avoiding you guys. You all crowd her every time you see her.” Jason reprimands, crossing his arms. Replacement rolls his eyes. 

“It’s ‘cause she’s so much cooler than you. And she’s not an asshole like you are.” He says. 

“Something’s wrong.” Cass says, suddenly appearing at Jason’s side. He jumps slightly, but then frowns at her. 

“What?” He asks, surprised to see the deep scowl form on her face. 

“Don’t know.” She huffs. 

“Well if Cassandra believes that something is wrong, we should investigate.” Damian says, looking relieved that he wouldn’t be asked to socialize with anyone. A startled scream from outside makes the five vigilantes tense before running towards the noise. Jason curses when he realizes it’s Penny Rolling, Jagged Stone’s….something. She’s kneeling by a slumped figure, shaking it until a groan escapes it. Jason feels his blood run cold when the figure’s hair catches the light. It’s Jagged. Then where-

“Where’s she? Where’s she at?” Jagged slurs out, blinking wildly. 

“Who?” Penny asks, gently holding the man’s face. Jason frowns at the gash. 

“M. He wanted ‘er.” He says, and though the man is looking around crazily and slurring his words, Jason can tell he’s completely serious. And M-

“Do you mean Marinette?” Jason asks, stepping forward. Jagged frowns, but nods. 

“Crazy clown.” He adds before turning and throwing up in the grass. Jason growls and turns on his heel, ready to go hunt the damned clown down. Out of everyone in this damned city that he could’ve targeted, why did he choose her?

“Jason, wait.” Dick says, grabbing his wrist. “We need to have a plan. Come on. You can’t just go out like this.” He reminds him lowly, Jason’s eyes narrow but he follows anyway. Might as well use the good tools. That fucking clown won’t make it to morning. 

---

Ice cold water falls over her and Marinette sits up, gasping in shock at the sudden temperature change. 

“Little cold, Birdie?” A voice asks before walking around and standing in front of her- a huge smile on his face and a thick piece of metal in his hands.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Marinette says, trying not to let her voice shake. This was the villain. The one she never wanted to meet. The one that gave her boyfriend nightmares that he couldn’t explain to her. And now she was alone with him. 

“If you’re sure, we could have some...fun before Batsy arrives.” He laughs. 

“Why would Batman show up?” She asks. “You do realize this is just a Halloween costume, right?” She flinches as the piece of metal- a crowbar, she thinks shakily- stops inches in front of her face.

“How stupid do you think I am? Of course it’s a costume. A costume posted by one Dick Grayson. You’re a Wayne, somehow. And Batsy always shows up when a Wayne is involved.” Joker says, his twisted grin making her sick to her stomach. 

“I’m not a Wayne! Batman isn’t going to come for me.” She argues, cursing her decision to not wear her earrings today. Some days were harder than others, especially leaving in a mask. Even if the mask was a costume. Every time she tried to put on her earrings today, she shook and started to panic. Granted, it was probably for the best. Because she would definitely be tempted to transform and she did not want to give Joker that kind of knowledge. 

“Wayne or not, one of the bats will come. You have friends in very high places, Birdie.” Joker tuts, twirling the crowbar in his hand. She flinches as it nears her face, making Joker laugh. “If I wanted to hit you, I would.” He says. She doesn’t even have time to figure out what he means because her shoulder explodes in pain. The pain is blinding and she wants to scream but no sound will come out of her mouth as she gasps for breath. 

“That’s no good. A silent bird is a dead bird. So sing, Birdie.” Joker demands, and he aims slightly lower this time, shattering her left arm. And she screams. The pain tearing at her throat nothing compared to the pain in her arm, her shoulder. She sobs, the shaking making the pain worse, but she was unable to stop. It hurt. 

“S-stop!” She manages to yell, nearly biting her tongue when Joker grabs her chin and forces her to look up at him. 

“Hmm. You’re right! The internet should definitely see this.” He laughs, pulling a phone out. She shakes her head, flinching as he whacks the crowbar against the floor near her chair. He points the phone at her, and she knows he’s recording. The bastard. 

“Hello Gotham! Look at this little Birdie. I’m afraid she flew too far, and now we have to clip her wings.” He says, sighing as if he’s actually apologetic. He sets his phone up on the table and stalks over to her before turning and waving at the camera. She watches him move the crowbar around warily, her breathing shaky. God, she hoped Jason wasn’t watching this. Hoped he was somewhere safe, not trying to go do something stupid. She winces as Joker acts like he’s about to hit her, only to stop before the crowbar actually connects with her good arm.

“I told you, I’d only hit you if I wanted to.” He chuckles. 

“Go to hell.” She spits out, ignoring the voice in her head (that sounded suspiciously like Tikki) telling her to shut up. To not antagonize the crazy man with the crowbar. 

“Gladly.” He says with a grin, rearing back and swinging the crowbar out to hit her in the ribs. Her scream echoes around the room and she has no time to catch her breath before he’s attacking her ribs again. Tears stream down her face, but she can’t scream, she can’t even catch her breath. I’m going to die, she thinks, and the thought is terrifying. She didn’t want to die, she wanted to live. 

---

“Do we have a fucking location or am I about to go shoot up every goddamned warehouse in this city?” Jason growls as he zips through the streets on his bike. He knew Babs and Alfred were back at the cave, watching the livestream and working to locate Marinette. And even though he couldn’t see the video, the audio playing through the comms was enough to make his stomach churn. 

He didn’t give one singular fuck what Bruce said. He was going to kill that goddamned clown the minute he saw him. 

---

Marinette glares at the Joker, barely able to keep her head up. For some unknown reason, he’d decided to use his fists on her face instead of the crowbar. Not that she was complaining. She wouldn’t have survived multiple hits to the head. Not with the force he had. She watches him, and she knows he’s saying something, but she can’t tell what it is. She’s too tired, too hurt, to care what he’s saying anyway. Unless it’s some magical cure to stop her from feeling like she’s broken into a million pieces, she doesn’t want to hear it. 

Eyes wandering behind him, she’s relieved when she notices the costumed figure. The cowl, the cape- Batman did come. How strange. Though, she had assumed that Joker was live streaming. So that could definitely explain that one. Deciding she was out of immediate danger, she lets her eyes droop shut, reveling in the darkness that surrounds her. She let’s it stay, and she can feel things slipping away, some of the pain lessening. It’s nice, until someone is poking her and talking much too close to her. She lets out a whine as the person forces her eyes open. 

“‘m tired.” She mumbles, wincing at the pain that comes with breathing, with talking. 

“I know, kid, god I know. Just keep your eyes open.” A voice says. She blinks, the blue marks on the suit in front of her helping her to identify the vigilante. 

“Couldn’t fight.” She spits out, tears springing to her eyes as her attempt at conversation makes her chest ache. 

“But you’re fighting now, you’re staying awake. You’re doing such a good job, I’m proud of you. Stay awake kiddo.” Nightwing says quietly. She vaguely feels the ropes slide off her wrists and ankles. Fighting to stay sitting up, because slumping will hurt more than she’s willing to allow, she sighs. 

“Jason’s gonna worry.” She mumbles, and Nightwing hums. 

“Ambulance is almost here, kid, just stay awake.” He says instead of asking about Jason. She hopes Jason is okay. Hopes he isn’t mad at himself for letting her go talk to Jagged alone. Suddenly, sirens are close and she lets the world finally slip away.

---

The pain is the first thing that clues her in. She isn’t dead. Which is a relief. But the way her entire body aches, is not a relief. Forcing her eyes open, she sighs at Jason’s slumped form in a chair next to her bed. She wished she knew how long she’d been in the hospital so she could scold him. Because he was still wearing the outfit he had on at the party. Which meant he hadn’t given himself a break. Just as she’s trying to decide how to ask the nurses for pain medicine, Jason’s eyes open. 

“Marinette!” He gasps, starting to lunge forward, then stopping himself. “I thought, god, M, I thought-”

“‘m okay.” She says softly, and he frowns. 

“Okay? You were nearly beaten to death with a goddamned crowbar. You’re not okay.” He argues. She sighs. 

“I’m alive, and I’m with you. I’m okay.” She insists, wincing. He looks like he still wants to argue, but stops himself. He scoots closer and holds her hand, kissing the back of it softly. 

“I’ll never leave you.” He promises. She smiles softly, before falling back asleep, finally safe.

Tag list:  @maribat-october-rarepairs @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess 

[raya-rhaenyra-ahsoka]

Why Daenerys Should've Stayed Longer in the North Than Attack Cersei Too Soon (Which is a dick move, really) PART 1

I have said this before and I will say it again, D&D f*cked up Season 8. Honestly, there were a lot of missed opportunities with regards to plotlines. And don't even get me started on why they boycotted the Reeds, that's another story.

Also, we're gonna be talking about the possible strategies against an invasion army that has actual people in it, not ice zombies with super-speed and pyrophobia. We're way past that. The stabbiest of the Starks had already defeated Ice Darth Maul, so let's move on.

Anyway, I still think that Dany should've stayed in the North. Not permanently though, just until she has enough allies and armies to scare the living daylights out of Cersei's ass. And here's why:

WINTERFELL IS IN A STRATEGIC LOCATION.

Defense. In Max Brooks' The Zombie Survival Guide, Winterfell falls under the fortress category under the types of defense. Technically, it's a castle rather than a fortress. It is an impregnable structure with all the facilities to supply probably the whole population of the North. It has a greenhouse to grow food, which is appropriate for Westeros' long winters. According to Ned Stark, the castle can withstand a siege with only 500 men manning it against an army of 10,000. Plus, Dany's remaining dragons could easily barbecue an invading army what she did with the Lannister army in the Reach after defeating the Tyrells and taking Highgarden.

Here's a map of the North for reference: (You can pretty much see where Winterfell is, right?)

Source: awoiaf.westeros.org

Terrain. Winterfell is easily accessible since its location is in the heart of the North both literally and figuratively. It has its advantages as well. The North is the largest of Westeros' 7 Kingdoms. It is vast (it takes weeks to travel from the Neck to Winterfell, wtf?!). With regards to Sun Tzu's Art of War, Winterfell's strategic location can easily spot an approaching enemy, and if they come unprepared, its forces can easily defeat them. Thus, a Southron army wouldn't know how to navigate the lands they're not familiar with (let alone get into the North itself and past its defenses, but that'll be discussed later). Let's take into account Stannis Baratheon's failed siege on Winterfell, and how easily Ramsay Bolton's army defeated them down to the last man.

Climate. The North, in general, has a cold and temperate climate. They even get snowfalls in the summer. A Southron army wouldn't be accustomed to its climate, let alone the dangers of the wolves that roam the kingdom. Plus, if they run out of supplies, like food, there aren't many crops because most of its lands are barren due to the cold and snow. (So yeah, good luck with that!)

So yeah, Daenerys is technically at a place where it's appropriate to say:

AN ASSAULT BY LAND IS A DEATH SENTENCE.

The Riverlands. If Cersei orders her army to march North, they would have to pass the Riverlands. Like literally, here's a map:

Blue lines are the borders of the Riverlands, while the Red line is the Kingsroad. (Source: pinterest.com)

And everyone pretty sure remembers that the Great House or the Overlords of the Riverlands are the Tullys of Riverrun.

Now, this is where it gets interesting. The remaining Starks in Winterfell namely, Sansa, Arya, and Bran, have Tully blood through their mother, Catelyn. So technically, because of their family ties, they're likely already allies.

Debts of Gratitude. With Arya massacring the Freys of the Crossing, she had supposedly freed her uncle, Catelyn's brother, Edmure Tully from their grasp. Now, I don't know how that scene would've gone, (because D&D decided to focus on other things), but it would go something like: Hi Uncle! I killed the Freys, you're free now. Go back to Riverrun, call your banners or something and tell them you're back!

Edmure to his bannermen:

Because of that, I think Edmure would have this huge debt of gratitude towards his sister's children. And with the Tully words being family, duty, honor, Edmure wouldn't hesitate to gather an army. So if the Starks go, Hey, Uncle! Cersei is harassing us, send help!

Edmure's response would be:

The Vale of Arryn. I think the Vale would've joined the Starks as well, the same way they aided Jon Snow in the Battle of the Bastards. Because again, they have family ties. The current lord of the Vale is Robin Arryn, and his mother, Lysa Arryn, was of the Tully family-she was Catelyn and Edmure's sister. With the Starks killing that annoyimg smooth-talker, Littlefinger, they had basically saved Robin from his manipulating ways. With Yohn Royce as the witness on Littlefinger's trial, he would eventually tell Robin the truth about who really killed his mother. So if the Starks will ask for his help to join their cause, Robin will very much likely help his cousins.

So once they march up North, Edmure with the Tully and Vale Armies will be waiting at the Trident.

SWAMPS + CRANNOGMEN + MOAT CAILIN = IT'S A TRAP!

The Neck. Let's face it, if Cersei's army managed to get past the Rivermen and Valemen, there's no way they'll get past the Neck. This southernmost region in the North is known for its swampy terrain, with lizard-lions (basically crocodiles/alligators) lurking in the murky waters.

Here's a map of the Neck for reference:

The Green areas are the swamps, the Red line is the Kingsroad, while the Yellow line passing through the Green area is the Causeway. (Source: awoiaf.westeros.org)

The Crannogmen. Call them what you will, frog-eaters (yes, they do eat frogs), mudmen, bog-devils, but you must never underestimate the swamp people because you'll never know what'll hit you. They are called such because of their habit of living in small villages formed from reeds and thatches and that sit atop floating islands. And despite their short stature, the Crannogmen are talented hunters and warriors. Thus, they have adapted to the harsh environment and have learned to use it to their advantage.They use guerilla tactics and apparently a notoriously difficult people to conquer. In other words, they are the perfect example of the small but terrible type of people. The Crannogmen are ruled by House Reed with its current lord, who is none other Ned Stark’s bff, Howland Reed, a.k.a. Meera, and Jojen’s Dad, who holds court in their floating castle (yes, you read that right. A castle that floats.), Greywater Watch. Yep, the one who delivered the fatal blow to Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning was a f*cking Crannogman, this guy:

Since Ned’s children (Bran and Rickon) and Howland’s children (Meera and Jojen) are also good friends, there’s no doubt that they’ll definitely back them up when they have to. The Reeds are their bannermen after all. Though I think Meera would have to push Bran out of his chair to get even, but still.

The Causeway. The only road that connects the North to the other kingdoms is the Kingsroad. The causeway is the only dry road, the only navigable passage, and the only safe route for armies to travel through the swamps of the Neck. (Refer back to the map) It is also narrow. In the Art of War, narrow passes can be used to your advantage. With the Crannogmen familiar with the terrain, all they have to do is garrison it and wait. You can imagine being ambushed by short people hiding in the trees with poison darts or step on the traps they placed on the road and drag the horses and men into the murky waters to be eaten by the lizard-lions. If they have steel armor on, they’d have lower chances of survival. They might not get eaten, but they’d drown, so yeah, good luck!

Moat Cailin. Still, if they get past the wrath of the Crannogmen, they’ll meet their end at Moat Cailin. These ruins of an ancient stronghold command the Causeway as it passes through it. So anyone who travels North by land has to go through the causeway and Moat Cailin. It is an effective natural chokepoint that had protected the North from southern invaders for thousands of years. Its three remaining towers are usually manned with bowmen who’s ready to shoot a rain of arrows to enemies who will dare pass. And with the Starks back at Winterfell, it is most likely garrisoned by the Crannogmen. 

A Southron army would have no chance at all and would never get past the Neck, thanks to the small but terrible and lovable crannogmen of the swamps. Also, only two women were known to ever kill a White Walker and one of them lives in the Neck.

I’d watch out for her too. Shout out to our girl, Meera Reed! Because all she got from Bran was a lousy thank you after she dragged his Stark ass across the frozen tundra.

That's it for Part 1, you guys. This turned out to be longer than expected. The link for Part 2 is here.

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Paramount War (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

ace’s execution is, in a way, the exception that proves the rule when it comes to one piece’s themes of blood and family. ace is set up to die for the crimes of a father he never knew and never wanted, and he does die here, but in the end he dies for the family he did choose, in the form of luffy, rather than the one he didn’t. 

god do i wish we knew more about ms portgas d. rouge. with ace’s storyline pretty much wrapped it looks unlikely that we’re going to be learning more about her than what we got, which in my opinion is an absolute tragedy, because what little we do know about her is amazing and she’s an absolute badass. oda give us more female ds please.

whitebeard’s power is so cool. it might be one of the visually coolest devil fruits we’ve ever seen, in my opinion. he he causes earthquakes and tsunamis while far past his prime; he pulls the sky apart with his bare hands. this whole arc is world-shaking, and whitebeard’s power is perfectly appropriate for it. 

doflamingo’s speech on justice and rightness is one of the most well-remembered quotes from this whole saga, and rightly so. i’ve always found it fascinating, myself, because he’s right. he dead-on hits how the one piece world works- the world government and the marines rule the world not because of any inherent actual goodness or justice or right, but because they won a war a very long time ago. 

in a way, this reminds me of blackbeard’s line of “people’s dreams never die” from jaya. i like how oda isn’t afraid of letting his villains be right about the themes of the story, sometimes even having better awareness of them than the protagonists. 

man, if i had to pick a single favorite spread out of the whole manga, it might be luffy’s marineford entrance. it’s so epic, and so completely unexpected for everyone else there. absolutely nobody was expecting strawhat luffy to drop out of the sky with a posse including two former warlords. it just makes me grin!! so much!! 

it also gets followed up by a solid two pages of just people’s reactions, from smoker’s “what the HELL is he doing with CROCODILE” to moria’s immediate incoherent rage, and i just love that the world and cast of one piece is so well-established and built up that we know exactly how all of those people know luffy and why they react the way they do. 

going back to what i mentioned in the last post about marineford being luffy’s conflict of interest arc, i’d say it’s also the only time where he isn’t the future king first and foremost. in this arc, before anything else, he’s a little brother.

there are a lot of what-if moments in marineford. moments where you kind of have to ask “what if this specific thing hadn’t happened, had gone differently?” would things have turned out differently? squard’s betrayal is one of them. does this change the outcome? would whitebeard have been able to survive if not for this injury? there’s no way to know. marineford is a lot of little tragedies, and they just pile up and up.

marineford has just so many incredibly striking spreads. all of the momentous moments (and there’s a lot of them, in this arc) are done full justice. this is such an image heavy post just because marineford is such an incredibly visually strong arc. 

conqueror’s haki is so cool and i love the way it’s set up and built up throughout this saga, with luffy’s constant inadvertent uses of it, from duval’s bull to marigold and sandersonia to the wolves in impel down, all leading up to this moment. 

i’ve heard people complain about conqueror’s as kind of a deus ex machina, but i honestly love it, it’s very cool and honestly i think it just seems to fit luffy as a power. if there was ever gonna be a character who turned willpower into a weapon, it would be monkey d. luffy. 

i’m gonna take this chance to talk about garp, because this sequence of panels is heavily implied to be garp’s thoughts just before luffy punches him down, and it hurts. garp is a flawed person who makes some bad choices, and there’s no arguing that, but i think it’s very obvious he really, really cares about his grandsons, even if he never could understand them as people and that they never would have been happy as marines. and that’s just tragic, really. 

the moment ace gets freed and the brief span of time where he and luffy can fight together feel so triumphant, and i think it’s one of the reasons the final tragedy of marineford hits so hard and feels so cruel, because luffy succeeds, here. he saves ace. he gives absolutely everything he had and makes it, and saves ace. the ultimate failure isn’t his. there was nothing more he could have done. 

the first time i was reading one piece, i hit this page (which is also the last in the volume) and had to put the book away, take the bus downtown, wander around for a few hours, and buy myself some candy and some new books before i started feeling okay again.

the thing about ace’s death, i think, is that it’s a tragedy, but it also feels so completely essential to the story going forwards and luffy’s character growth specifically that it’s really, really hard to imagine one piece without it. there are a lot of (really excellent!) fix-fics out there for marineford, and although those are often really good and their authors super talented, i think it’s really hard for them to ever hit the same way canon does with regards to this. 

i always think of this scene specifically in contrast to zoro and mihawk’s fight, back on baratie. zoro and mihawk are both people who believe in honor in battle, true victory or death, and that’s reflected in their fight, in zoro’s refusal to turn and run even in the face of imminent death, and mihawk’s respect for that resolve. whitebeard, too, is an honorable man. he refuses to turn to run, even when facing certain death. 

the blackbeard pirates, however, are not. 

i do enjoy how, just like roger’s, ace’s execution backfires tremendously on the marines. this was entirely a predictable outcome, too! this exact thing happened twenty years ago! the marines don’t learn. they don’t change. they’re so assured of their own rightness and power that they make stupid mistakes like holding a massive public execution after the last one blew up in their faces. 

(this is why they need coby so badly, for the record, and why it’s important that he still decides to become a marine after witnessing their corruption firsthand in shells town. the marines are long overdue for a reformation, one that orients them towards real justice.)

i really, really enjoy crocodile in this saga. mostly because he hasn’t been redeemed at all, he’s still pretty much the exact same kinda awful person he was in alabasta, he’s just on luffy’s side this time, and it lets us see him in a better light, when he gets angry at whitebeard for nearly dying or when he helps luffy and jinbe escape to keep the marines from getting their way. few of one piece’s characters are truly so one-dimensional as they can seem, and i really appreciate that. 

i really really love all the interactions between luffy, ace and sabo as kids. they’re so fun and bounce off of each other so well. even though we only see them together for a brief time, they really feel like siblings. (which of course only makes later events hurt so much more.

i’ve always been a little fascinated by the fact that it takes us this long to get luffy’s full backstory. it’s almost a fakeout, because we get part of his backstory in the very first chapter, and we’re kind of led to believe that’s all there is. it’s not until ace’s introduction nearly two hundred chapters in that we’re given any indication there’s more.

but at the same time, it makes sense. marineford is luffy’s focus arc, as arlong park to nami or thriller bark to brook. he hasn’t had a focal arc that’s really about him before this, while all his other crewmates have. it makes sense that this would be when he finally gets his flashback. 

i think it’s cool that dragon and the revolutionaries show up at the grey terminal fire, because it’s one of the only looks we’ve gotten so far into what their actual regular operations are like. and, of course, they’re saving people. i really like this about the revolutionaries, that helping people in trouble is basically their modus operandi, when pretty much everyone else in one piece’s world mostly does saving on an incidental basis if at all. 

i think a lot about how the last line of sabo’s letter to ace is also both of their last words to the strawhats. 

death in one piece always feels much realer and more impactful to me than in most other series, and i think this is part of the reason why: in one piece, we are always shown the mourning. nami at bellemere’s grave, carrot grieving pedro, ace and whitebeard’s funeral. 

there are fewer deaths, comparatively, than most other series, but they’re given so much room to echo. we’re still feeling the impacts of ace’s life and death in the most recent chapters of wano. it ties into the theme of inherited will and all the way back to hiriluk’s final speech, of men not being dead so long as they’re remembered. 

the picture of luffy at marineford always kind of strikes me. he looks so young and so solemn, and yet much more himself than he did when we last saw him losing his mind on amazon lily. i really like it. 

sometimes i just think about the sheer depth of trust and love the strawhats must have in each other to separate for two years, far longer than they were ever together, to solely dedicate themselves to improving for the sake of crew and captain. none of them even hesitate, and none of them ever doubt that the crew will be reformed at the end of it.

after all, luffy keeps his promises. 

[jazz-keeps-the-sadzz-away]

another au!!! it's my favorite, the one where tom (voldermort) is killed by harry but instead of just dying he's isekai’d into a fantasy world and learns morals while his siblings try and end each other in the background; its great. anyway! merope is the empress, and because of tradition, all her children have different fathers because the more variety, the better for the future of the empire. she has more than 9 children, but these are the Superior children who have proven their worth, either by themselves or because of the valuable family they come from. this is why they have such different ages. 1st & 2nd: ginny and ron are twins! they come from a noble family of assassins. of course, they still have their older siblings, but from a different mother. they're loved by molly even if they're not hers. putting aside the whole assassin thing, they're a cute family. at the beginning of the fic, they're 17. 3rd: hermione! her father is also a noble, and he's a powerful informant with a whole guild of spies at his disposal. hermione picked up his knack for gathering information, and so shes pretty valuable. she's 16 at the beginning of the fic. 4th: draco's father is not only the duke but he's also Bankin' rich because of all the entertainment companies he owns along with the adventure guilds that act as a police force. draco is lacking in keeping a cool head but the intellect to direct massive businesses is there. he's 14 at the beginning. 5th: harry's father is the pope of the empire's church, and has a lot of control of the inner works of the empire. however, harry proved himself because of his strong magical prowess. he's takes after merope more than james because the circumstances of james loving his and lilys children more. understandable, the imperial family is hunger games but siblings. he's 13 when the fic begins. 6th: myrtle. now, myrtle comes from a rather bleak background. her father is a farm noble, but he is quite rich and controls a surprising amount of the empire's crops and farming and husbandry industry. she proved her worth out of sheer will to become something better than a farmer nobles daughter and is very good at scheming and making it look like an accident. she's 11 when the fic begins! 7th: our boy!!!!! here he is!!! tom is pretty Special, as a good protag should be. tom sr is from another country and is from another race. its a big controversy for merope to have had a child with another race since imperial are quite proud of themselves. because of tom's lineage, he has no magic. but yknow, when you have the bite power of a saltwater crocodile and the exoskeleton of a tank, it's pretty alright. of course, our boy special little man hates he can't use magic. he proved himself with his knight skills because he's useless in the magic field like his other siblings. jokes on them, it takes less to slice someone than chant a spell. hes 9 (rather tall for one though🙄) when the fic begins. 8th: neville!! this poor boy. he comes from a typical noble family, with nothing but his absolute unit magic. of course, neville cant use his magic well because he's been sick since birth, so hes the highest on the sibling hit list (can you tell from his face?). hes 5 when the fic begins. 9th: cedric's father was the empire's war hero, and so cedric automatically gets a better life. it doesn't help that even at a young age he's both great at magic and knightsmanship. hes 4 when the fic begins. also for the horns, all imperial royalty have them. its a genetic trait with nothing else about it. its rumored its because the imperial family has dragon blood in them. this is also a tomarry au, which is hilarious because it doesn't even come up until way later into the story lmao

[sohotthateveryonedied]

No Matter What

Read here on AO3!!

Summary: 

Bruce figures out that his son isn't straight from an early age.

That doesn't make him love him any less.

- Eight Years Old -

Bruce is finally starting to get a hang of this parenting thing.

The first few months were rough, there’s no disputing that. Bruce lost track of how many times he panicked and called Leslie Thompkins whenever Dick burst into tears over something and Alfred wasn’t home. Not to mention all the times when Alfred would leave Bruce on his own for dinner, insisting that one must learn how to raise a child without a butler to help. Bruce fed the kid burnt chicken nuggets and garlic bread for two nights straight. Now, though? Bruce is immensely proud of how far he and Dick have come. He’s even taken to attending PTA meetings, if only for the free coffee and doughnuts. He hears the front door open right on time, then wet boots hitting the floor. Dick had a half day today to make room for meet-the-teacher night later. Bruce isn’t looking forward to spending two hours sitting in a chair made for eight-year-olds, listening to a teacher in plastic pearls talk about an elementary schooler’s oh-so challenging curriculum. At least he’s only got the one; he has no intention of having more kids after Dick. Bruce busies himself with his mostly unburnt slice of toast, one ear trained on the footsteps through the foyer accompanied by unceasing chatter that Bruce has grown quite fond of over the months. “—and then they let us outside for recess even though it was raining, and I went on the swings and my hair got all wet and it was so cool.” “That explains the muddy clothes,” Alfred says. “Sorry, Alf. I’m not immune to mud puddles.” “It would appear so, Master Dick.”

The two of them enter the kitchen, Dick working his elbows out of his yellow rain slicker to reveal the school uniform beneath. His cheeks are rosy, his eyes bright. “Hiya, Bruce!”

“Hey, champ. How was school?” “It was awesome. It was raining all day and at recess there were a ton of puddles all over the playground and a million worms. I didn’t touch them though, ‘cause the teacher said not to.” “What snack would you like, Master Dick?” Alfred asks, taking Dick’s discarded raincoat and folding it over his arm. “Can you do ants on a log?” “Coming right up, sir.” Dick heaves himself up on the bar stool beside Bruce, his sock feet kicking against the lower cupboard. Bruce spreads marmalade over his toast. “Tell me more about school. Any fights today?” “Nope,” Dick says proudly, flashing his gapped teeth. Dick and another boy got into a scuffle on the first day over a comment about whether Dick’s parents being from the circus meant they were part monkey. It’s a miracle Dick only gave the kid a nosebleed and didn’t break anything. The principal let Dick off with a warning since it was his first time at a normal school, but Bruce has a feeling the only reason he wasn’t expelled was because his guardian is the most powerful man in Gotham City. Bruce had a stern talk with Dick when they got home about the importance of controlling one’s actions. Traveling the world in a circus train car doesn’t do much to help one’s impulse control. He also banned Dick from watching television for the rest of the night, but Dick’s crocodile tears swayed him to balance it out by letting him have ice cream before dinner. That’s good parenting, right? “I even made a friend,” Dick says. “Oh? What are they like?” “His name is Caleb and his desk is right next to mine, so we talked during reading time. Then he gave me some of his chocolate during lunch and we played on the swings together at recess.” “Ah, the wonders of childhood friendship,” Alfred says from where he’s slicing up a celery stalk at the other end of the counter. He sounds relieved, and Bruce finds himself matching it. Dick has been at Gotham Elementary for almost a week and hasn’t made a single friend until now. Bruce can’t tell if that is more because of Dick’s circus background or because he is a tan-skinned boy with the barest of Romani accents attending a predominantly white private school. Sometimes (all the time) Bruce loathes being associated with Gotham’s high society. If you’re not white, straight, and rich, you are automatically shunned in their minds. “He sounds great, Dick.” “Yeah! And he’s got really pretty eyes too. I can’t tell if they’re brown or green, but they’re sparkly like glitter.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You must like him a lot.” He takes a bite of his toast, making eye contact with Alfred over the boy’s head. Alfred doesn’t react but for a twitch of his mustache. Dick nods, focus switched over to the plate Alfred slides in front of him. Dick takes a celery stick and picks off the first raisin coated in peanut butter, licking it off his thumb. “I hope he talks to me again tomorrow. Alfred, can I bring an extra snack to lunch tomorrow so I can share it with him?” Alfred smiles. “Of course. I will pack a second cupcake in your lunchbox tomorrow morning just for him.” “Thanks, Alf.” Dick goes right back to eating his ants on a log, cheerful as ever, completely unaware of the swarm of question marks buzzing around in Bruce’s head. Huh. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Eleven Years Old - Bruce gets home from a three-hour business meeting, his sandpapery eyes aching to close and stay shut for...let’s go with ten years? That should be enough. He loosens his tie and prepares to go upstairs to his bedroom where he’ll spend the next decade of his life hibernating, until he sees his ward on the living room sofa. Dick is lying on his stomach with his face buried in a throw pillow, as if he’s waiting for the sofa to swallow him whole. Must have been a bad day if he’s not sliding down banisters and flipping over chairs like usual. Sighing, Bruce goes over. “Dick? You alive over there?” “Mmph.” At least he’s conscious. Bruce sits on the arm of the couch, shaking Dick’s thin shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. Use your words.” “Mmph.” “Bad day, then?” Dick nods. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Dick shakes his head. Bruce sits back with a frown. “Alfred?” he calls. Alfred pokes his head in. “Yes, Master Bruce?” Bruce gestures to their anguished preteen. “It would seem that our lad had a rough day at school. He wouldn’t tell me what, but I’m making his favorite casserole for dinner. Hopefully that will perk him up.” Bruce turns back to Dick, who hasn’t moved. “C’mon, Dickie. Sit up so I can see your face.” Reluctantly, Dick forces himself upright with one last groan into his pillow. His hair is mussed, standing up on one side. There’s a pillow crease on his cheek. He sits back against the sofa, miserable. “Better.” Bruce prods Dick’s ribs which earns him a giggle, goading the kid into sliding over a few inches so Bruce can sit beside him. Dick leans into his side immediately and Bruce puts his arm around him. “Now, tell me what’s got you down.” “I want to transfer schools.” “How come?” As far as he’s known until now, Dick has loved middle school. His childhood took a bad turn when his parents’ ropes snapped, but preteen life is at a good start. Until now. Dick’s gaze is trained on his sneakers, kicking them where they hang over the edge of the couch. “Some kids in my science class were talking crap about me.” “Don’t say crap.” “Can I go to a new school? Please?” “What did those kids say about you?” Dick picks at a dime-size hole in his jeans. “They called me gay,” he says quietly. Bruce tightens his arm around the boy, his heart panging. Of course someone had to bully Bruce’s kid. As if his life hasn’t already been hard enough without stupid teenagers making it worse. “I wasn’t even doing anything wrong. I was just talking to my lab partner, and the guys at the next table over started whispering about us. Then they started throwing papers.” “Did you tell the teacher?” “No. But I know she noticed. Everyone did. She just didn’t do anything about it.” That sets Bruce’s blood to a boil. Teachers have a responsibility to protect their students, no matter what. What gives her the right to turn a blind eye to bullying, just because a couple of students might not fit the agreed-upon standards of “perfect” upper class society? “I’ll set up an appointment with the principal,” Bruce decides. Dick’s eyes get wide. “Bruce, no. Please. It’s fine, really. I don’t want this to turn into a big deal.” “What did you do when it happened?” Dick shrugs. “Nothing. My lab partner stopped talking to me, so I just asked to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back until the bell rang.” Bruce sighs. Middle schoolers are the worst, every last one of them. (Except for Dick, of course; he is perfect.) “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Kids can be cruel—especially at your age, when they start learning new words that they don’t understand the way they should. They think some words are insults or something to be ashamed of when they’re not. Most kids grow out of this. Too many don’t.” “People suck,” Dick mutters. “I don’t even know why they were saying all that stuff. I’m not...I’m not like that” Bruce bites his cheek. He’s going to have to be careful about this. “Dick, do you know what being gay means?” “Duh. It’s when two guys date each other. I’m not stupid.” “I know you’re not stupid. But gay can mean a lot of things. Men can like other men, just as women can love other women. Like Kate, for instance. Then there are bisexual and pansexual people who love all genders, and asexuals who don’t like either.” Thank god Bruce thought ahead and read some LGBTQ+ research books all those years ago when he first began to suspect that Dick wasn’t heterosexual. “And transgender is when someone doesn’t identify with the gender they were assigned at birth. Sometimes people feel more like a man, a woman, neither, or both.” “...Okay?” “I just want to make sure you understand these things, because part of being a respectful person means respecting others for who they are. And if you don’t completely understand the label they identify as, then it’s your job to try and understand it the best you can.” “Why?” “Because too many people in this world judge others for things they can’t control, and that’s not right. No one should have to feel like they were born wrong. And I want to make sure you know this, that way you can be better than those who choose to hurt others for things they can’t control.” “Does that mean the guys who made fun of me are bad people?” “I’m sure they aren’t. They might just be confused because they don’t understand that being gay isn’t anything bad or dirty. The people in this part of Gotham...they don’t accept a lot of things. They think that being queer or a person of color means you don’t deserve respect, and that’s wrong. It was wrong of those kids to tease you and your lab partner the way they did.” Dick nods slowly. “I’m not gay.” “I know. I just want you to be aware of these things. And if you ever have questions or need to talk, you can always come to me.” He ruffles Dick’s hair. “Even when other people are nasty, remember that I love you no matter what, got it?” Dick shoves Bruce’s hand away and smoothes his hair back out, grinning. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Thirteen Years Old -

What’s the difference between a growth spurt and a shark? 

Dick doesn’t have any sharks. “We’re home!” Dick announces. He and Alfred stumble into the house, their arms filled with all kinds of shopping bags. With Dick shooting up half an inch nightly these days, he’s growing out of his clothes at a rate even Bane would gawk at. Bruce and Alfred can barely keep up with the kid. “Want to see what I got?” “Show me, pal.” Bruce sets aside his tablet and pushes his reading glasses up on his head. (He does not have poor vision, thank you very much. Leslie just made him get a prescription as a precaution, that’s all. He’s still young by anyone’s standards, just ask Selina.) Dick starts pulling clothing out of the boutique bags, showing off every one of his new sweaters and pairs of Alfred-approved jeans. After ten minutes that Bruce desperately tries to look interested during, Dick pulls out what looks like a t-shirt that’s been sliced in half horizontally. The fabric is bright pink with a chibi whale on the front. “This one is my favorite,” Dicks says. His grin is blinding. Bruce stares for a long moment, his brain a lagging computer drive. “What is it?” “It’s a crop top. You know, like a belly shirt?” Memories from Dick’s Kim Possible phase flash in front of Bruce’s eyes. “Alfred let you buy that?” “Yeah?” Dick’s smile flags. He lowers the crop top, suddenly self-conscious. “Do you not...like it?” “You were supposed to get winter clothes, Dick. For cold weather.” “So?” “That’s clearly something you’re supposed to wear during the summer.” Dick pouts. “But I like it.” He holds it up against himself, twisting this way and that like an amateur model. “Sorry, kiddo. You’re not leaving the house in that until springtime.” “Oh, so Robin can wear tiny shorts in the winter, but Dick Grayson can’t wear a harmless crop top? I smell hypocrisy.” “Yes, because Robin has thermal leggings and a built-in heater in his uniform.” He looks back at the pink monstrosity, at Dick’s pleading eyes. “I would be open to negotiations if you’re willing to wear a sweater under it.” “That’s not how fashion works, B.” “I don’t care. You can wait until it gets warmer out to wear it.” “You’re such a drag,” Dick whines. He lifts his dozens of shopping bags and goes to leave, then turns right back around. “What if I wear a jacket over it and promise to keep it closed whenever I’m outside?” Bruce considers that. “Fine. But not below fifteen degrees, got it? And if I see you outside for even five seconds without the jacket, I’m confiscating the Xbox. Deal?” “Deal.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Fourteen Years Old -

Something is different about Dick today. You’d think his boots were made of helium with the way he floats through patrol, and then smiles into his late-night milkshake like it did his homework for him. Bruce sits beside his Robin on the roof of Wayne Tower, silent for as long as he can bear before he can’t hold it back any longer. “Did anything interesting happen today?” “Huh?” Dick looks up as if Bruce pried him and his thoughts apart with a crowbar. “You’ve been...different. Happy.” “Am I not usually happy?” “No, you are. Just seems like you’re...extra happy, for whatever reason.” A blush dusts the kid’s cheeks. He sips his chocolate shake and shrugs. “Dunno. It was just a good day. Nothing special.” Yeah, and Bruce is a goddamn unicorn. Still, he knows better than to pry where Dick doesn’t want him. It’s a delicate thing. “If you say so.” “I got a hundred on my English essay,” Dick offers. It’s a start. “Was that the one on Grapes of Wrath?” “That was last month. We’re on Animal Farm now. It’s not my favorite.” “Yeah, I wasn’t a fan of Orwell either. Shakespeare was okay, but I preferred his tragedies over his comedies.” “Of course you did.” That makes Bruce laugh. He’s not worried; the two of them are high enough that no one can hear it. Bruce even has his cowl down, his face exposed to the cool air. “They had quinoa burgers at the cafeteria today.” “Mm-hm.” Dick is dodging something, beating around whatever bush he wants to talk about. Bruce can be patient while he figures it out. “And I spent some time with Barbara after school.” “Oh?” “Yeah. We walked home together and we took this old path through the park. Then we kissed.” Bruce chokes on his milkshake. He coughs, his sinuses burning and eyes watering. When he recovers, he says, “That’s...that’s great, chum.” “Yeah.” Dick can’t stop smiling, a true schoolboy in love. “And she asked if I wanted to patrol with her tomorrow night, but I said I needed to check in with you first.” “I don’t see why not.” It’s not like Bruce hasn’t patrolled without Dick before. Sure, he misses the company on the few days a week he’s alone, but he’s not about to deny Dick the thing he clearly wants. “You sure? You look...freaked out.” “No, no. That’s...great, that you kissed. Congratulations.” Awkward. He’s so fucking awkward. Stop being awkward right now. He doesn’t know why this is messing with his head so drastically. Bruce has listened to Dick moon over girls for the entirety of his pubescence, talking about them like they’re goddesses he’s forbidden to look upon, Barbara included. And Bruce has seen the way Dick and Barbara interact with each other in between muggings, always talking with their heads bent close like they’re the only two people in the world. Who would have thought Batman could be a third wheel? “I’ve liked her for a while now, but I didn’t know if she liked me back and I was too nervous to ask.” Dick’s face goes even pinker. “Kissing her was cool.” Part of Bruce’s brain jumps at the realization that, holy shit, Dick just had his first kiss, my little boy is growing up, what a milestone. The other part is far less happy about this new development. Yes, Bruce has seen Dick win brawls with men three times his size. He can fly the Bat-jet on his own, knows six languages, and is even leading his own superhero team. And yet, all Bruce can think is, no, not my little boy, he’s just a baby, Batgirl is corrupting his innocence and She Must Be Stopped. With great effort, Bruce holds it all back. He’s read the parenting books, he knows that it’s important to be supportive when they’re at this age. “Good to hear. I’m happy for you.” He pats Dick on the shoulder. “Thanks, B.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Sixteen Years Old - “Hey, Bruce? Can I talk to you?” Bruce doesn’t look up from the metal flakes he’s testing. “What is it?” “I can come back later if you’re busy.” “No, I’m just analyzing some samples. I’m looking for residue from one of Zsasz’s blades.” Dick steps forward, tentative for once. “Need any help?” “I would like for you to come out with whatever it is you clearly need to tell me.” Dick snorts quietly. “Nice phrasing.” “What?” “I think I’m bisexual.” Bruce turns around, forgetting about the samples entirely. Dick’s arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes skipping between everything that isn’t Bruce’s face. At sixteen years old he’s finally tall enough that he doesn’t have to crane his neck to look at Bruce anymore. “You...think?” “I am. I’m bisexual.” “Okay.” “Is that cool with you?” The question shocks Bruce. “Of course it is.” Did Dick honestly think this would change anything? Has Bruce done something wrong, made Dick think that he wasn’t loved unconditionally? Dick squints, appraises Bruce’s reaction. “You knew, didn’t you.” “No.” “Bruce.” “I knew a little bit.” Dick rolls his eyes. The tension slips from his shoulders. His arms uncross. “Of course you did.” “Well, you weren’t exactly subtle about it.” “What the hell does that mean?” “Language,” Bruce chides, more out of habit than anything. “And do you realize how often you would come home after elementary school complaining about stupid pretty boys?” “That was just me being dramatic.” “I’m not disputing that. But they were still crushes, pal.” “I figured you thought it was just a phase.” Bruce shrugs. “Maybe for the first few days. But trust me, I have known you liked boys since you were a kid.” “Then why didn’t you just say so? It took me years to figure this all out, and you’re telling me you’ve been sitting on this info the whole time?” “Because this is your truth, not mine. I knew that you would tell me about it when you were ready. And you have.” Dick is clearly fighting a smile. He bites his lip instead, runs a hand through his mop of black hair that not even Alfred can wheedle him into combing anymore. “Well, I’m heading to the tower for the night, so don’t wait up, ‘kay? Kay. Good talk.” He goes to leave, but Bruce stops him. “Hang on. Why choose now to tell me?” Dick stuffs his hands in his pockets—an obvious tell. “No reason. I just...wanted you to know. Just in case.” “In case of what?” “Oh, you know.” Dick waves his hand in a gesture that clarifies absolutely nothing. “Life happens. People meet each other. You know how it is.” Bruce’s soul implodes. “You have a date?” “I never said that.” “You implied it.” “Real detectives rely on evidence, not theories.” Dick winks. “Tell me who it is. Are they a civilian? A hero? Do they come from a respectable family?” If it’s Roy Harper, Bruce might have to bury a body tonight. Especially after learning about Harper’s drug problem. Dick is too pure for someone like that. Or—heaven forbid—that Wally West kid. Dick is already walking away. “See ya, Bruce!” “You come back here, Richard John Grayson! Do I know him? Does he know your father is Batman?” Dick’s cackle echoes around the cave. “It had better not be a speedster!”

[cocastyle]

Robin — Prologue

Pairing - Joel Dawson x reader

Word Count - 2,756

A/N - and here is the prologue! this series is going to be so much fun and I hope everyone enjoys it as much as me! comment how you think it’s going so far and any theories you think may happen during the series!

if you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

R O B I N

Robin Series Masterlist

⭒❃.✮:▹   PROLOGUE   ◃:✮.❃⭒

"I didn't really have your typical upbringing. I mean, I did at first, but then the world ended. I mean, I don't think anyone was really shocked. We always thought it might, and then it just finally happened. But how it happened, now that's where it gets interesting."

"Agatha 616."

"Hey! I wanted to be the one to say that. You totally just stole my thunder, Robin. As disappointing as that just was, she's right. Yep, an asteroid heading straight for Earth. I know. So obvious. So, humanity came together, and we did what we do best."

"We shot a bunch of rockets at it!"

"And we blew it up! And it was great!"

"But it wasn't."

"Once again, she's right. You see, the thing that makes rockets rockets. . .chemical compounds, a lot of 'em. Which rained back down on us, and everything changed."

"And by 'everything,' he means cold-blooded creatures. And by 'changed,' he means mutated and started eating us to death."

"Ants, lizards, roaches, crocodiles. You name it. There's a lot of 'em. Actually, we knew this one kid who was eaten in his sleep by a goldfish he won at a carnival."

"Poor Todd."

"He loved that goldfish."

"And that cat of his that got eaten."

"Rest in piece, buddy. So, for most of human history, if you wanted to kill a cockroach, right, all you needed was a shoe. Well, suddenly you needed a shotgun. And sometimes even a tank. And sometimes even that doesn't work. Especially if you don't stay in the tank, Bob."

"Bob?"

"I was just saying a random name. I don't know if his name is actually Bob."

"Then why—?"

"Y/N."

"Right. Your speech, not mine. Sorry."

"Eventually, the really big creatures and our military took each other out. We lost 95% of the human population in about a year. That's a lot of Bobs."

"And a lot of Todds."

"Exactly. Those of us who survived we hid anywhere we could — bunkers, caves, panic rooms, all around the world. So for the last seven years Y/N and I have been living in an underground bunker. And it's not as bad as it sounds. Really. It's a great group of people, and we all love each other. You know, it's kinda what I imagined college would have been like."

"Definitely not, but believe what you want. Anyways, like Joel said, we've been living in an underground bunker for the past seven years. It's not always been the best at times, but we do what we need to in order to survive. But for you to understand our story, we need to go back to the beginning. . .to the day it all happened."

"Seven years ago, back when we were sixteen."

- - -

Seven Years Ago

Fairfield, California

The last thing Y/N wanted was to wake up at 5:30 on a summer morning, yet that was exactly what happened on the day the world ended. The annoying beeping sounds filling the air were all Y/N could focus on as she came to, her eyes squeezing shut as she groaned in annoyance and shoved her face into the pillow she was laying on.

She lazily shot her hand out and attempted to reach for her alarm clock, but hesitated when her hand hit what she knew to be the lamp that sat on the table in her living room. Y/N let out a sigh before slowly opening her eyes and looking around. It took a moment for her to realize what was happening, but once she saw the tv that was still on, the pizza box laying on the table with only one slice left, and the figure beside her on the couch Y/N knew what had happened.

Groaning as she looked towards her best friend Joel Dawson who had passed out on the couch beside her, the girl lifted up a pillow before saying, "Joel. Joel, wake up." The boy didn't respond, the only noise escaping his lips being the sound of his own snores. His watch was beeping on his arm, but he didn't seem to be fazed by it.

Y/N frowned before taking the pillow she had picked up and whacking Joel with it. The boy jumped in surprise and fell off the couch and onto the floor. Y/N fell back with a satisfied sigh while Joel groaned on the ground.

"What was that for?" Joel complained, lazily sitting up and rubbing at his eyes while the two looked tiredly at each other.

"Shut that stupid watch up before I do it myself," Y/N murmured. "And by 'do it myself' I mean I'm going to destroy that little fucker so it can never beep again."

Joel cracked a small smile at that before looking down at his watch and turning it off. His eyes flickered over the time and he frowned. "It's 5:30 in the morning? Wasn't it just midnight?" he asked.

"I think we fell asleep during the middle of Civil War. That's what we get for trying to watch all the Marvel movies in a row with no sleep," she said with a yawn as she closed her eyes once again.

"We were behind anyways," Joel pointed out as he pulled himself up off of the ground and back onto the couch so that he could put on his shoes. "We wouldn't have finished before I had to leave. Speaking of which, I've got to go. Aimee should be picking me up soon and I smell like pizza and tears."

"It's not my fault you cry during almost every movie," Y/N retorted.

"They're just so good!" Joel argued making Y/N smile softly as she let her eyes open up long enough to admire the boy. He was tying his last shoe, so didn't seem to notice as she slowly ran her eyes over the features of his face. However, the moment he was sitting back up, Y/N closed her eyes to make it seem like she wasn't watching him.

Joel looked towards her and stared at her for a moment before smiling and reaching out for the blanket that was already falling off of her and onto the floor. He picked it up and shook off the crumbs from the food they had eaten before laying it on top of the girl.

"Why do you have to leave?" Y/N whispered, opening her eyes up a bit while Joel finished fixing the blanket and kneeled onto the ground in front of her. He leaned against the edge of the couch so that the two could be face to face. The lack of distance was enough to make Y/N’s heart skip a beat, but she knew Joel wasn't thinking anything of it.

"I'm just going to go see Aimee for a little bit so that we can watch the sunrise. I'll be back after, okay?" Joel said. Y/N studied him for a moment before nodding her head. The boy grinned and pulled away to get up onto his feet again. "You try and catch up on some z's while I'm gone." Y/N nodded again and Joel leaned down to press a quick kiss to her forehead, an action that made the girl close her eyes in a moment of pure bliss. "I'll be back soon, Robin."

Y/N smiled softly at the nickname Joel had given her. He liked to refer to themselves as Batman and Robin and seeing as he had insisted he was Batman in their friendship, Joel had grown to call her Robin so much over the years that it now flowed off of his tongue naturally. Y/N had never bothered arguing with Joel about who was actually Batman, instead relishing in the way Joel would flash her that goofy grin of his when he called her Robin.

Y/N got too lost in her thoughts to notice Joel walking away until she heard the sound of the front door opened and closed. She opened her eyes for a moment, her heart sinking slightly as she thought about how Joel was leaving to be with his girlfriend Aimee. However, not wanting to dwell on the fact for too long, Y/N just closed her eyes and willed herself to go back to sleep.

Even after she fell asleep, her dreams were filled of nothing but her best friend who she had found herself falling for more and more since the second grade. Not that she was complaining. This was what her life usually was like. Y/N secretly pining over Joel while he dated other girls. It was hard to see, but Y/N knew that as long as he was happy, she would be happy even if it meant they didn't end up together.

Y/N slept for quite a while, hoping she would wake up to Joel returning and hopping back onto the couch with her. However, what she wasn't expecting was for the sound of an explosion to send her jolting off the couch while her whole house shook around her.

The girl fell to the ground with a groan, but her eyes shot open wide as the ground shook again and another explosion filled the air. "What-?" she whispered before slowly pulling herself up off of the floor and looking out the window. Her eyes widened at the sight of fire in the horizon and she felt a surge of panic wash over her as she heard the screams of people filling the air as families started running out of their houses.

"Mom! Dad!" Y/N called out, her parents running down the stairs not too long after that with their pajamas still on and their eyes still fighting away the sleep that had taken over them only a couple of moments before.

Y/N could barely process what was happening after that. The next thing she knew, they were all dressed and throwing their stuff into their car. Her parents were running around and arguing over what they actually needed, so the brunette took the time to look next door where Joel's house stood. Her eyes flickered over the scene, attempting to find her best friend but only seeing his parents.

"Y/N!" Mrs. Dawson exclaimed as she caught sight of the girl. She frantically ran across the yard to her, her hands grabbing onto Y/N’s arms as she asked, "Where's Joel? Where—Where is he?"

"I-I don't know," Y/N admitted, her eyes wide with panic as she still tried to process what was happening. "He left to go see Aimee earlier this morning. He didn't tell me where they went."

Mrs. Dawson frowned and was just about to say something more when a red jeep came barreling down the road and stopped in front of the house. Mrs. Dawson released Y/N immediately while the girl let out a sigh of relief as she saw Joel stumble out of the car.

"I'm sorry!" Joel exclaimed, barely getting his feet onto the ground before Y/N was running at him and practically jumping into his arms for a hug. Joel didn't hesitate to hug her back, his grip tight as he looked towards his mother.

"Thank God! Where have you been, Joel?" his mother asked.

"We have to go right now. Say your goodbyes, get in the car," his father told them.

Y/N then seemed to noticed Aimee who was watching her warily as if she could see right through the girl's facade. She let go of Joel and squeezed his arm before nodding towards Aimee. "Go say goodbye to her. I'm going to finish packing up and then we can talk," she told him.

Y/N didn't give Joel time to respond before she was running back over to her house where her parents were now throwing the last of their things into the car. She helped toss a few more things into the car before closing the trunk with her father. "Go say goodbye, Y/N. We need to leave. Now," her father said causing Y/N to blink in surprise.

"Goodbye? Aren't we going with the Dawsons?" she asked.

"Honey, we don't know where we're going. Our priority is keeping you safe, not trying to stay with the Dawsons," her mother told her.

"But—" Y/N began.

"Y/N," her father sternly said. Y/N frowned slightly and then with a shaky breath turned to begin her way over to Joel who was staring after his girlfriend as she walked towards her jeep.

"Aimee!" he called out causing Y/N to slow down her steps as she caught sight of the look in his eyes. "I love you."

Y/N went rigid at that, the sound of Joel saying those words to someone else making her feel like she may be sick. Tears begin to spring in her eyes and she desperately tried to stop herself, but she couldn't help it. She knew Joel had dated other girls before, but hearing him proclaim his love for one was something she had never had to witness.

And it hurt.

"I love you too," Aimee told him.

"I'm gonna come find you," Joel assured her.

"You better," Aimee said before hopping into her jeep and driving away.

Y/N was still frozen in place, her tears now falling freely down her face while Joel looked her way. His heart broke at the sight of her and he didn't hesitate to run over and wrap her up in his embrace. "Hey, we're going to be okay," he whispered, thinking that her tears were because of them having to say goodbye and not because of the interaction he had just had with Aimee.

Y/N seemed to snap out of her trance at that and she gripped onto Joel tightly, her tears becoming worse as she realized this could potentially be the last time she saw her best friend. "Joel," she whimpered. "This can't be goodbye."

"Hey, hey," Joel said as he pulled away enough to wipe way her tears, his hands cupping the sides of her face. "It's not. We've survived everything together. I'm not about to let this stand in our way either. We're Batman and Robin, remember? We'll always find our way back to each other."

Y/N let her eyes flicker over Joel's face, a few more tears rolling down her cheeks before she held her hand out. "Batman," she said with a small nod.

"Robin," Joel whispered, nodding back at her as he clasped her hand with his own. They held onto each other tightly before Y/N hugged him one last time.

"I love you," she whispered, knowing very well that he didn't understand the true meaning of her words.

"I love you too. We'll find each other, okay?" he said before he noticed Y/N’s parents anxiously staring at the pair. Sighing, Joel squeezed her tight one last time before pulling away and leaning forward to press a small kiss to her forehead. "Bye, Robin." And then he gave her that small goofy smile of his that only made her heart ache more.

"Bye, Joel," she whispered, allowing herself to look at him one last time before turning and running to the car her parents were already climbing into. Y/N didn't dare look back, knowing that if she did it would only make it that much worse.

We're Batman and Robin, remember?

We'll always find our way back to each other.

- - -

"Long story short, I was right and we did find each other again. Granted it took two weeks, but—"

"Well, sorry. I didn't exactly have the colony there to pick me up when my parents died. I had to find you guys all on my own."

"And I see my mistake and I apologize. You did better than I ever could and I love you for it. You see, Y/N’s been my best friend since we were in kindergarten. Some jerk named Harley thought it would be funny to shove me off the swing set and take the swing from me. Y/N thought differently and punched him so hard he flew off the swing as if he had purposefully jumped off."

"I got sent to the principal's office right after, but I gained Joel as my best friend, so it wasn't a complete loss."

"We've been practically inseparable ever since and not even the apocalypse was able to keep us apart for too long."

"And now that you all know how our story began and a little bit about us, we can skip ahead to where we are now, seven years later in an underground bunker."

"This is where our story really begins.”

[s1ut4harrypotter]

savior complex

George Weasley x Fem!reader

this is based on savior complex by phoebe bridgers, my favorite song. it’s not my best work or anything but i sorta liked writing it. I haven’t been able to figure out endings on any of my wip’s so i might put a bunch of stuff out this week but idk. yet another without a happy ending because as usual i’m a piece of shit.

Warnings: sad, angst, mentions of canon character death, not proofread. If there’s anything wrong with it let me know lolz

word count: 2.5k

lyrics in italics/bold

tags: @amourtentiaa

Emotional affair, overly sincere

It’s been almost a year and a half since Fred died. George seems to be getting better, but also more distant. He is happy and joking around again, but he has been going to see Angelina more often. You and George had been dating since your 6th year at Hogwarts, you were going to be together forever. But now, as the days go by, he is getting farther and farther away from you. 

Smoking in the car, windows up. Crocodile tears

You were there for George, through everything. You didn’t shy away from any of it, the nightmares, the rage, the sadness, you were there. You helped him, he had started smoking, you’d find him in his dad's old Ford Anglia, smoking a cigarette, sobbing. you got in, rolled up the windows, took the cigarette, and took him on a drive.

Run the tap til its clear

 We pulled up to a small cliff we used to hang out at during the summer and held him while he cried. We had talked for the whole night, we only left when the sun started to come up. 

Drift off on the floor

You tried to keep him involved with the rest of the world, so you started having monthly movie nights with the rest of his siblings. One night a month, everyone would go to one person’s flat and watch a movie or two. One month, it was your turn to have everyone at your flat, the two of you lived alone in the flat now, since Fred was gone. George hadn’t been sleeping well and ended up falling asleep halfway through the movie. Once everyone was gone, you cleaned up and decided not to wake him. 

I drag you to the shore

Just as you were about to walk into your bedroom, you heard him. George had been having nightmares since Fred died. Some nights you’d make him a potion for dreamless sleep, but tonight the two of you forgot. You sighed and walked back to the living room,

You’re gonna drown in your sleep, for sure

“Georgie” you whispered. “Georgie it’s me, y/n you gotta wake up darling.” he was sweating buckets and breathing heavily. You gently coaxed him awake and walked him back to your bedroom, he started to cry. “I’m so sorry darling” you cooed, as you stroked his hair, trying to get him to fall back asleep.

Wake up and start a big fire, in our one room apartment

He wouldn’t stop crying now, he was hiccuping and mumbling incoherent things into your chest. You were so tired, you were the only one with a job at this point, not that minded, you had just had a long day and needed to go to sleep. 

But i’m too tired, to have a pissing contest.

“George, darling, you need to breathe, take deep breaths, you’re going to throw up if you don’t calm down Georgie.” he had a bad habit of crying until he threw up, then passing out and falling asleep. 

“He’s gone. It’s my fault. I should’ve been there. It should’ve been me.” He hiccupped out, crying harder now. You were on the verge of tears too, you hated how sad he was. 

“No George. You can’t think like that, it wasn’t your fault. Fred wouldn’t want you to feel this way.” you spoke softly into his ear. 

“Don’t tell me what he would’ve wanted y/n” he suddenly got serious. “You didn’t know him like I did.”

“Of course I didn’t know him like you did George, but I like to think that I knew him pretty well, and I don’t think he was the kind of person to want you wallowing in your bed, wishing it had been you instead of him.”

“God y/n can you just go? Please? I want to be alone tonight.” he said, you scoffed. He couldn’t be serious, but you were tired and you didn’t want to upset him more. You slept on the couch that night.

All the bad dreams that you hide.

You were grieving too, you had met Fred first at Hogwarts, then he introduced you to George. You felt like you had been really good friends with Fred, so it really hurt when George said things like that, but you knew he didn’t really mean it. Sometimes he just said things like that when he was upset, you understood, he was hurting. Sometimes he wouldn’t tell you about his dreams, he would just change the subject whenever you asked, you had dreams about Fred’s death sometimes too. You were with him and Percy when it happened, you’d constantly beat yourself up for it, all the things you could have done differently to save George from this pain, but what’s done is done. 

Show me yours and i’ll show you mine

You wished that George would tell you what was going on with him. He had been going through different stages over the past year, at first he didn’t talk at all. You’d walk by his room at night and he’d be mumbling things to himself, never anything you could make out. Then he started telling you how he was feeling, anything and everything that he felt, he’d tell you. You liked it then, even if he was sad and there wasn’t much you could do about it, at least you could be sad together. Now he didn’t tell you anything, he just brushed you off.

Call me when you land, i’ll drive around again.

You loved him so much, there wasn’t much he could do that you wouldn’t take. You were willing to wait for him to get better. You knew he was hurting, you knew it would take time for him to get back to the ‘old George’, if there was even any of him left. You’d never say it out loud, but you knew everyone else was thinking it. When Fred died, he took a big piece of George with him. It brought you so much heartache that he was in pain. You wished you could just bring Fred back, then maybe you could get your George back. But you were willing to wait.

One hand on the wheel, one in your mouth. Turn me on, and turn me down.

You and him hadn’t been intimate in months, you knew George was hurt, and he would only ever think about it on his good days, which were now few and far between. But it was ok, you were willing to wait for him. You loved him. 

Baby you’re a vampire, you want blood and I promised. I’m a bad liar.

Lately you felt as though you never saw the happy side of George. He’d go out during the day, to meet friends from school he said. He’d never say who it was if you asked, but you figured it was just Lee Jordan or someone else he had been close friends with. He was physically and emotionally exhausted when he got home. It was like he used up any energy he had to be happy wherever he was during the day, then when he got home, you were left to pick up the pieces when he shattered.

With a savior complex

You were beginning to get burned out. You had finally gotten some time for yourself to meet up with some friends, and they suggested you break up with George. You simply couldn’t do that. It may be slightly exhausting to keep up with him, but you knew the old George was still in there. They kept telling you it seemed like you had a savior complex, and that George was a lost cause. Deep down, you knew you were probably the only one still holding on to the relationship, but you still loved him so much. You wouldn’t know what to do without him, even if you knew it was practically already over.

George had been getting further and further away, figuratively and literally. He was almost never home, and when he was, he was back to barely talking, occasionally giving you one or two word answers. You’d ask him how his day was and he’d reply with just “good” not even bothering to ask about your day. 

You were fed up with how things were, you wanted to know if at least he was back to his joking self around his friends. You knew it was wrong, but you followed him one day. Turns out he had just been going to the Leaky Cauldron, at first you were worried he just spent the day drinking. But, you waited a few minutes and went in, only to see him kiss Angelina Johnson on the cheek. 

Ok, maybe they were just catching up, they were good friends at school, you knew that. But the longer you watched, the more you realized you weren’t watching two friends catching up. You were watching your boyfriend, the man you had spent the last 5 years of your life with, with another girl. Deep down, you knew your relationship was over, it had been for months, you were just dragging it out because you didn’t want it to end yet. But you didn’t want it to end like this. 

You wanted to scream, cry, hit him, do something. You had thrown away the last year of your life, devoting yourself to helping George feel better. You spent long nights rubbing his back, whispering comforting things in his ears as he cried into your chest. YOU did that, not her. How could he do this to you? After everything you’ve been through together, everything you had done for him. He threw it all away. 

You were distraught. You were thinking irrationally, sending yourself into a spiral. You called in sick for work and walked back to your flat in a daze. You needed to think about this. For a few minutes, you contemplated obliviating yourself, maybe if you just forgot you saw it, went about your relationship as it was before this morning, it’d be ok. But you knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. So you did the only other thing you thought you could do, you conjured some boxes and started packing. 

You spent the day packing every last trace of your belongings, you called one of your friends and told her something happened with George. You didn’t give her any specifics because the optimistic, or stupid, side of you was holding on to hope that you were overreacting, maybe you saw wrong. Maybe, this was a big huge misunderstanding and you could unpack your stuff with George when he got home and live happily ever after. But you knew that wasn’t the case, so you told her you’d tell her when you got there. You finished packing the last of your stuff a few minutes before George got home, it was later than usual. You didn’t want to face him, you thought about leaving him a letter, telling him you saw what he did and not to contact you ever again. But you needed to hear it from him.

He walked in and saw the boxes, confused he walked into the living room and saw you sitting on the couch, just staring off into the distance. 

“Y/n darling? Are you alright.” he asked, confused.

“No Georgie, but I will be.” you whispered back, sadly.

“What’s with all the boxes? What happened?” he asked again. It was like you were a ghost, or someone else. You were there but not really, he could see you’d been crying. 

“What did I do wrong Georgie? What could I have done differently?” you asked, you could feel the tears starting again.

“Darling I don’t know what you’re talking about, did something happen at work?” he said, he was worried maybe you got fired.

You scoffed. “No George, nothing happened at work. I have been so worried about you lately, you seemed to be getting worse and worse. Coming home from god knows where, in a mess of tears. Just coming home for me to clean up, then going out again the next day.”

When he didn’t reply you continued, “I have spent the last 5 years of my life with you George. Completely devoted to you, through everything I supported you.” you laughed bitterly, “I spent all day packing today, trying desperately to figure out where I went wrong. What I did to you, what I could’ve done differently, to make you love me enough. But it wasn’t me was it?” 

“What are you talking about dear? Why were you packing.” he replied.

“God George you’re just not seeing it are you?” You looked at him, bewildered. “I saw you. You and Angelina.”

“Oh” he whispered.

“OH! THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY GEORGE? OH?” You shouted, he could feel himself starting to cry now too. 

“I have spent so much of my time cleaning up after you, taking care of you, loving you. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. I should’ve known. When you started going out more, I told myself, maybe you were just out with friends, when you came home after a long day with Angelina, using up any happiness that you did have with her, who was there to pick up the pieces? ME!” you yelled. 

“I just can't do it anymore George. We’ve been over for a long time, and I need to let you go now.” you trailed off, the last part coming out in a mix between a whimper and a whisper.

“No, darling please let's talk about this!” he begged.

“What is there to talk about George? I saw you, with my own two eyes.” you replied.

“Please baby it was a mistake. I love you so much, please please don’t leave me.” he was begging you, he needed you.

“I can’t George. I’ve spent so much time caring for you, I need time to care for me. I need to get better too. I just can’t do this anymore, there won’t be anything left of me if I keep giving it all to you.”

He broke down next to you, crying. You stood up, ready to disapparate with your things, but he ran up to you and hugged you.

“Please don’t leave me y/n. I’m so sorry! It was a mistake I love you so much.”

“You need to let me go Georgie, I'm sorry. I need to go.” you whispered, calmly removing his arms from their tight hold around your waist.

You whispered a quiet, final goodbye, before disapparating from his flat and to your friends home, you both needed to move on.