#IT WAS TOO DARK SO I MADE IT BRIGHTER LMAO

[atlabeth]

greener grass | luke castellan

i recommend reading bleedin me dry before this as this is the au to that!

summary: what if you left with luke that day in the woods?

a/n: would just like to give a HUGE thank you for the massive amount of support on my luke fic!! and another huge thank you to all you angst demons because why do you want more of it. i mean i get it but why. anyways here’s a different path of actually accepting luke’s offer like so many of you said you would instantly fold lmao i hope you enjoy

wc: 3.2k

warning(s): fem!daughter of demeter reader. luke is his own warning. kind of unhealthy relationship, weird vibes all around

The stars were brighter than ever tonight. 

It was one of the first things that stuck out to you when you got to camp, and it was one of the first things that you noticed when you first got on the road with Luke. 

You’d always loved the stars. They were a rare sight coming from the city, such a sign of nature and purity that it honestly shouldn’t have been a surprise when you were claimed. You still remembered the shock that went through you when you first saw what a night sky free of pollution could be, and you still remembered the first time you risked your life with the harpies just to spend the night star-gazing. 

And you could never forget the first time you dragged Luke along with you, his wry protests falling on deaf ears though he grinned the entire way down to the beach, his hand laced in yours.  

Gods. 

Luke. 

Even the thought of him these days was enough to make your heart clench, a slight shiver run down your spine, and you weren’t fully sure as to why. 

You loved him. You ran away with him. Every path that led you here, you willingly chose to walk down. 

But you still questioned every second of every godsdamned day if they were the right decisions. Especially now, as you sat alone in front of the fire, carefully stoking it with one of the few dry sticks you’d been able to find after taking shelter—in your own haphazard tent made of vines and tree trunks and any other bits of nature you’d managed to sprout from the ground with your powers—to wait out a rainstorm. 

You decided to spend the night, deciding that traveling through the darkness was too risky after the last monster attack, but the minutes couldn’t have been creeping by slower. If being in nature didn’t quite literally fuel you, you knew you would be far more miserable than you already were.

You loved Luke with all your heart, and if he was willing to potentially throw off his entire plan just so he could bring you with him, then he had to love you the same. You owed him this, at least, to not abandon him. 

You— you didn’t want to serve Kronos, but you didn’t want to serve the gods, either. Your mother abandoned you before you were old enough to know what the word meant, leaving you on your father’s doorstep swaddled in blankets and with a note that he still had to this day. 

Demeter left your father to raise you on his own, left you to live the half-life of a half-blood, and hardly paid attention to you since. She didn’t help you when you were on the road to camp with your satyr, wondering if every bump in the night would be your end, and she let you feel worthless for an entire year before she finally decided you were deserving of her claim.

Or maybe she just finally remembered you existed. 

You understood Luke’s anger—you felt it yourself more than you liked to admit—but the path he was on was a dangerous one. You doubted you could take him off of it, but you could keep him safe, and you could prevent more damage. That was all you cared about at this point. 

How long you could walk this line was an entirely different question. 

You sensed him before you heard him even lost in your thoughts, but the snapping of twigs still made your breath catch for a moment. You kept your gaze on the fire as you spoke. 

“Anything?” 

“These woods are surprisingly bare for the time of year,” Luke said as he set his backpack on the ground, kneeling down to rifle through it. “I feel like Artemis is punishing me.” 

“Well, she doesn’t exactly have a reason to help you,” you said wryly. You gestured with your head towards the miniature orchard you’d been making at each one of your camps—one pro of your parentage was that you—hopefully—wouldn’t ever starve on the road. You’d been growing plants since you realized you could, so it was practically second nature at this point. “Fruit’s on the menu, if you’re interested.” 

Luke chuckled as he walked over, and as he plucked a perfectly ripe strawberry, he glanced at you. “Feeling nostalgic?” 

You shrugged. You wondered which of your siblings would be in charge of the strawberries with you gone. You hoped Mr. D wouldn’t give it to one of his kids. “Do you blame me?” 

“Not at all.” He popped it into his mouth then took an apple from the smallest tree you’d been able to grow. “It was home for us both, for a while.” 

You bit your lip. It still was your home—it had been for the past four years. You wanted to go back eventually, but you felt like you had sealed your coffin by going with Luke. Would they ever welcome you back, knowing you willingly followed him into the darkness?

“How long do you think we’ll be on the road?” you asked, finally looking over at him as he sat down across from you. “Not that I don’t enjoy being with you, but… it’s not exactly the safest.”

“At least another week or two,” Luke said. You tried your hardest to keep your expression even as he settled the full force of his gaze on you—you couldn’t deal with the scrutiny. “I need to make sure they’ve lost our trail. The last thing we need is a questing group on our asses.”

You huffed a laugh. “You think they’ll actually send anyone after us?”

Luke shrugged. “If all went well, camp is in total disarray. If it didn’t, they still know I’m with Kronos. I can’t imagine Chiron would take that lightly. And,” he inclined his head, “I did kidnap you.”

You scoffed. “You didn’t kidnap me.”

“They’ll probably think so,” he said, and there was something strange in his eyes. “Doesn’t make sense for you to come with me willingly.”

This again. “Luke—”

“I know,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. There wasn’t much heart in it. “You don’t have to explain yourself again.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m not with you,” you said. “I— I am. I’m only here for you, Luke.”

His eyes softened. “You mean it?”

“I do,” you nodded. “I couldn’t just leave you.”

“I don’t take any of this lightly, you know.” His eyes never wavered from yours, the orange light flickering across his face and casting a devilish shadow. “You being here means the world. Nothing’s gonna happen to you—I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m not just gonna lay you out to dry, either,” you said wryly. “We’ll protect each other. Like we always have.”

“Exactly,” Luke affirmed. He bit into the apple he’d seemingly forgot about, and you looked up at the sky in the resulting silence.

It felt like your mind always drifted back to camp, back to your siblings and friends and the victims of Luke’s crusade.

Your summer siblings who would come back next year and wonder where you went, your year-rounders waking up the next morning and all the mornings after with a discontented glance at your bed. 

How long would it take for them to forget you? For you to just be another lost demigod in the camp files?

And poor Annabeth Chase. Luke practically raised her, and he walked out on her without a word—you considered yourself lucky he didn’t do the same to you, and you had no idea what awaited you on your path together. 

The gods had never been one for listening, and certainly not to you, but you hoped at least one of them would look down on you. Maybe your mother could provide some of that wizened second child advice, shine her favor on you for the first time in your life.

Well. You doubted Demeter would very much appreciate your quasi-support of the titan that ate her. The thing you should have considered yourself lucky for was that your powers still worked. 

Luke brought you back to Earth by saying your name, and your gaze snapped back down to meet his. His scar seemed especially grisly in the firelight, at odds with the softness of his expression—something that felt all too rare these days. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asked. 

“What else could possibly be on it?” you asked wryly, tossing the stick you’d been fiddling with into the fire. It crackled as the flames devoured it, something so out of its realm thrust into it anyways. 

“Stupid question,” he admitted. 

“We’re practically fugitives, Luke,” you said. “We have monsters after us, and possibly people from camp. We left everyone behind. I’m with you, trust me, but— but I can’t just get over it all as easily as you.”

“And I get that,” he said. “This—” he sighed and shook his head— “you really don’t know how much you being here means to me. I thought I was going to be out on my own on all this.”

Your throat bobbed. You’d never tell him, but you didn’t even know what your answer was going to be until the words left your mouth.

“And you’re telling me that you’d still choose them over me?”

“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t.”

Luke’s eyes softened and your throat felt like it was closing up.

“Then come with me,” he whispered. “We will change the world together.”

“I can’t,” you asserted. “I can’t just leave everyone behind— I’d be leaving my entire life behind, Luke!”

“You’ll help them more this way,” Luke insisted. “The gods aren’t on our side—we’re here so they don’t have to pay attention to us. If we want anything to change for the better, we’re gonna have to do it ourselves.” 

You bit your lip, and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. 

“I wouldn’t ask you this if I didn’t think you were right for it,” he murmured, tilting his head as he gazed into your eyes. “Your mother’s never bothered to see you before. I’m gonna make her see you.” 

“How?” you asked, hating the hints of desperation coloring your voice. 

“You’ll see,” he said. “But we’re gonna do something so big that no one’s going to be able to ignore us.” 

Memories of the past four years flashed through your mind, but the two at the forefront were ones with Luke and ones without your mother. 

He’d always been there for you, even when Demeter—especially when she wasn’t.

You couldn’t just leave him on his own. Not when he was baring his soul to you—not when his quest for greatness included it for you too. 

Not when he was the first boy you ever loved, the one who brought you back from the god-induced edge. 

“…Okay,” you said, the word feeling like an ultimatum the moment it left your lips. “Okay. I’ll go with you.” 

He stared at you for a second like he didn’t hear you, or rather like he didn’t actually believe it. And then he broke out into a grin. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really,” you said. “Have I ever lied to you?” 

“Go to your cabin and pack your bags,” Luke said, still unable to control his exuberant expression. We’ll meet each other at the top of the hill.” 

“Right now?” 

Luke nodded. “Only a couple hours until we’re harpy feed. Everyone’ll think we’re just leaving for the school year.” 

“You’ve always been a year-rounder,” you said. “Won’t people—” 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “No one’ll think anything of it. We just have to get out before anyone asks any questions.” 

“Luke,” you murmured, “are you—” 

Luke cut you off with a blazing kiss, the same kind of fire in his eyes when he pulled away, a slight smile on his lips at leaving you breathless. 

“I’m sure,” he whispered. “You’re not going to regret this. I promise.” 

It was all you could do to stare up at him, his grip on your arms the only thing keeping you upright for a solid moment. 

“Go,” he said. “Take your time—don’t draw any suspicion. I’ll meet you there.”

“You’re really sure?” you asked, finally able to form words. “Really really sure? About this, a— and me?” 

He cupped your cheek, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I am about you.” 

Leaving camp was insane—when Luke told you of Kronos’s plans, it was even more insane—but it had always been you and Luke. He’d been such a huge part of your life, ever since you first came to camp, that you couldn’t imagine yourself without him. 

And when you looked back at him, illuminated by the fire, you were sure of at least one thing. 

You weren’t leaving any time soon. Not when you could still fix all of this. 

A yawn got the better of you, and you felt Luke’s eyes on you as you covered your mouth with a fist. 

“You should get to sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day.” 

“It’s been a long day for both of us,” you said. “We both had to get here—and you were the one who wandered around in the woods for two hours trying to hunt.” 

“How do you know I wandered?” Luke asked, setting the apple core down on the ground next to him. “You weren’t there. Maybe I had a very respectable saunter and just came up with nothing.” 

You chuckled. “The trees speak to me.” 

“Really?” he asked, clearly amused. “And what did they say?” 

“That you’re an awful hunter,” you mused, “and you should be very thankful that your girlfriend is good at everything.” 

Luke smirked and got up to start walking towards you. “Your ever-knowledgeable trees should know that I already know.” He kneeled down in front of you, a slight smile curling on your lips. “And that I am very thankful.” 

He pressed a heated kiss to your lips, and you reciprocated, looping an arm around him to keep him close before you pulled away. 

“It’s always good to hear it,” you murmured. 

“I’ll say it as many times as you need,” he assured. Luke stole another kiss then gestured towards your makeshift tent. “But you do need to get some sleep. We’re picking up at first light.” 

Your smile wavered. “We’ve been moving break-neck for a week already. Are you sure we can’t ease up?” 

“Soon,” Luke promised. “I told you, I just want to make sure we’ve lost any tails. We can’t afford that right now.” 

He must have seen the change in your expression, because his eyes softened and he took your hand. “It won’t be like this forever, babe. You can handle it.” 

“It doesn’t mean I want to,” you said dryly, but you sighed as you squeezed his hand. “I’ll turn in if you do too.” 

“Anything for you,” Luke said with a smile. You chuckled and shook your head as you stood up, and Luke grabbed his backpack before he went over to the tent with you. 

Your meager belongings weren’t much. You’d stuffed all the demigod essentials, some outfits, and a sleeping bag in your pack before hightailing it to Thalia’s tree, and Luke hadn’t packed much more—but at least it was light traveling. 

Every night had been spent in the same way, sharing your sleeping bag as you got what precious sleep Luke allocated before you were back on the road again. You were sure the only thing that got you through each early rising was his soft touches and easy murmured words. 

You laid down, staring up at the roof of brambles and bark, and you twisted your hand just so to make them twist away from each other for a small opening. 

Luke raised an eyebrow at you as he zipped his bag up, still crouched on the ground. “What’s that for?” 

You shrugged. “I’ve always liked sleeping under the stars.” 

Again, that small smile. It could still make you melt, even now. “I remember. I just hope it doesn’t start raining again.” 

“Like rain’ll be the worst thing we’ve dealt with,” you said wryly. “Besides, I can feel it in the air. We’re gonna be fine.”

“Yeah,” he said. “We are.” 

You glanced over and he was looking at you. You patted the spot next to you. 

“C’mon,” you said. “I’m cold.” 

“Oh, we can’t have that,” he said, amused, and he huddled in next to you. You let out a contented sigh as his body heat sunk into you, and he draped an arm across you to pull you closer. 

“That better?” he asked. 

You hummed in response. “Thank you.” 

“Always.” 

You closed your eyes as you exhaled deeply, trying your best to unwind the tension in every part of your body. You weren’t used to trekking miles every day, eating rations you’d packed from camp or gas station food from whenever you ended up close to town, only having the woods and the sky and Luke for company. It was starting to wear on you, but you weren’t going to let Luke know. 

“I love you,” Luke said suddenly, breaking the silence, his breath tickling your neck. Your eyes snapped open. “You know that, right?” 

A moment passed before you murmured, “I know.” 

You could feel some of the tension leave his body, and he adjusted his position to be closer to you. 

“Good.” 

His curls brushed against your skin as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. Luke was a comforting presence behind you, like an anchor in the choppy waters you’d thrown yourself into, but it… it just felt different than the countless other times. 

But that was only natural. You were back on the road, living the way you did when you first made the trip to Camp Half-blood with your satyr. Of course it felt different than the crowded chaos of the Hermes cabin, or the beach underneath a tapestry of stars, or your own bed at the behest of your siblings. The only thing that stayed the same was the scent of nature, and the scent of Luke. 

Things were different, yes, but you knew that would happen. Luke was different, but you knew that would happen—half the reason you came along with him was because you wanted to make sure he had a lifeline, a way to come back to shore when he decided his crusade was over. 

Because it had to be over eventually. He would decide that there was no way you could beat the gods, that it wasn’t worth killing himself over some meaningless mission. The gods had never cared about you before—you didn’t know why they would care about some half-baked rebellion by two of their least favorite kids. 

You loved Luke. He loved you. You told yourself that was all that mattered, because you were in this together now. 

For better or for worse. 

#damn girl you really are a demeter kid the way you're planting these seeds of distrust #also he hasn't told her what he did to percy so this is clearly a very stable and good situation for both of them #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

[enha-stars]

✧ take a break, angel

pairing: soft!jay x reader (fluff)

summary: it’s midterm season, and jay wants you to take a break. if not for you, then for him

warnings: mentions of stress, food, kisses

a/n: lmao this is sooo self indulgent it’s crazy. i am currently writing this during my 20 minute break. i look like gollum

staring at his phone, jay let out a long sigh. he had texted you four times today and you hadn’t responded to a single one.

he knew you were studying and you had specifically told him that you would turn your phone off, but it didn’t stop him from texting and checking up on you.

he shook his head and pocketed his phone, smiling at the cashier as he relayed your food order, having memorized it after the third date. he paid and stood by the door, foot tapping unconsciously.

he wished he could do more to help you; ease your burden somehow, but this was all he had. all he could do was make sure you were eating and taking breaks, even if you specifically told him not to bother you.

you had a really hard time focusing whenever he was around, regardless of how small he made himself. there was just something distracting about him; about his presence and his pretty face and broad shoulders.

once the food was done, he made his way to your apartment. he could already picture how he’d find you; hunched over the dining table with papers and textbooks spread out. he was sure that he’d find a bunch of coffee cups in your sink and cans of energy drinks hidden in the garbage under the sink.

he wasn’t sure why you bothered hiding them, he could always tell you’d have one by your eyes. they were always slightly brighter, a tad bit shinier. although he advised against them, he knew how important certain indulgences were.

he stood in front of your apartment door with bags of food. he felt a sliver of doubt as he stared at the brown door. he wanted to help, but he didn’t want to make you angry or frustrated. still, he took his chance and knocked on the door with his foot.

he knocked five times, lips turning upwards at the familiar beat. it was something you both had come up with early on in your relationship, a secret code that he’d tap on his heart whenever he missed you.

he heard shuffling on the other side before your voice, slightly breathless and slight annoyed spoke against the door.

“jay,” you sighed out, head leaning against the door. “what are you doing here?”

jay laughed, a goofy smile overtaking his face. it didn’t matter what you said to him, he loved your voice.

“open up, angel. i brought food.”

he didn’t mind having a conversation with a door between the both of you, as it had become a normal occurrence you both during this time of the semester.

jay grinned at your groan and raised an eyebrow as you slowly unlocked the door and pulled it open, a frown on your lips.

his heart began beating faster as you slowly revealed yourself to him. he hadn’t seen you in two days and it was already too much to him. you were so beautiful.

his eyes trailed your body; taking in your eye bags and tired features. his heart warmed when he recognized his shirt and sweatpants on you, knowing you missed him just as much as he missed you.

“jay,” you frowned. “you can’t be here. you promised.”

despite your words, your heart warmed at the sight of him, soft and bright. you wouldn’t admit it, but you were so glad he was here. you had missed him greatly.

instead of answering you, jay pushed past you and smirked to himself when he eyed the dining table, littered with papers just like he knew it would be.

he set the food down on the corner of the table, making sure none of the containers touched any of your work. he slowly turned, taking in your dark apartment. he eyed the candle and smiled when he realized it was the one he had given you all those months ago.

you sighed and shut the door, knowing that there was no way you were getting rid of him now. as he scanned your apartment, you bit your bottom lip, trying to hide the smile that threatened to grace your lips.

jay turned and faced you, a hand on his hip as he raised his eyebrows. he knew you were trying your best to stand your ground, but he didn’t miss the twitch of your hands or your soft smile.

“we should eat while the food is warm, angel.”

feigning annoyance, you crossed your arms. “jay, i have to study. thank you for the food, but i don’t have time right now.”

jay simply stared at you and you felt your hard exterior crumble, wanting nothing more than to eat something other than packaged ramen.

he spreads his arms and tilts his head. you let out a long sigh before shuffling over to him. he gently wraps his arms around you, one hand on your lower back and the other on your neck. you limply wrap your arms around his waist, and breathe him in.

he smells like home; like comfort.

he rubs your back and presses a kiss to your forehead. “take a break, angel. you’ve been studying all day and i promise you that a small break will only help.”

your hold on his waist tightens and he smiles against your waist, glad he had listened to his gut. you both stand there for a few minutes, just holding each other. well, he’s holding you and you’re clinging onto him.

your stomach grumbles and jay laughs as you frown at him. he kisses your cheek and pats your butt, ignoring the way you rolled your eyes.

“go sit, y/n. i’ll grab some plates.”

he unwraps his arms from around you and steps back but you grab the front of his sweater and pull him towards you, smashing his lips against yours, swallowing his noise of surprise.

jay blinks before his hands immediately cup your face, kissing you deeper. he lets you control the pace, glad to be used in any way you want.

you pull away and breathe heavily, smiling at his pursed lips and closed eyes, before pressing a softer kiss to his lips.

“thank you.”

hazily, jay opens his eyes and nods. he’s still trying to taste you in his lips so he doesn’t notice your wide smile. “anything for you, angel.”

you pat his cheek and it snaps him out of the daze your kiss had pulled him in. he blinks and quietly walks to the kitchen, a giddy feeling in his chest.

he finds you sitting on the sofa, organizing the food the way he always does. dry items on one side and everything else on the other.

you smile at him and he’s very glad you’re taking a break. he missed you, and with the way your eyes crinkle, he knows you missed him too.

taglist: @karinasbaby @pprodsuga @ak4e7a @moon7jay @jaeyunluvr

#enha!writings #╰┈➤ park jongseong #BYEEE I WROTE THIS IN 15 MINS IF IT SUCKS LEMME BE #i need jay so badly rn #like #pls take care of me hahaha #enhypen jay #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen headcanons #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #jay enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #jay soft hours #park jay x reader #jay park x reader #jay x reader #jay park fluff #jay fluff #jay enhypen #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong fic #park jongseong #enha jay #enha x you #enha fluff #enha soft hours

[evilyodastwistedworldofevilness]

Ermm...What the flip is a "Will Wood?"

Awhile ago I made a Will Wood LEGO set in the program Studio 2.0 based off his album "In Case I make it," and just never posted it anywhere. Contains a bunch of references to his songs, his albums, those tapeworms that he has, stuff he has worked on with other people, etc. Some of the character's are based off preexisting stuff while others is more original I guess. Still not the best with captions cuz I got nothing else lmao

More photos below!!!

Some dark lighting here. This is how it's supposed to look but when I showed this to my friend they said the images were too dark and like fair it is pretty dark so I made a bunch of more renders but with brighter lighting so you can see better

Ahh! so bright!! so so bright!!!

I'd probably make some changes to this like changing the designs of some of the figures and maybe add other designs but I don't got it in me to rerender everything so oh well it is what it is lol

Can you guess the references? First person to name all of them wins a photo of a scary monster!!!! ahhhh!!!! so scary!!!!!!!!!

Okay here's the answers lol

I feel like i complained a lot in the caption of this post but I actually do love how this came out and I really enjoyed doing all the fancy posing for all the figures and I really want to do more stuff like that

(and I already did get ready I got more of this stuff lmao)

For a lot of the character's I had trouble finding good parts that actually matched with the design so some of them are just real wonky looking. Part of me sorta wishes I made an original design for SELF-ISH but at the same time I think just having the actual art from the cover being placed on top of a LEGO dude is really funny.

like look at this shit lmao

I'm probably going to make a followup to this post showing off like the 800 wip renders I did of this anyways follow for 800 reblogs of random ass shit and NOTHING ELSE

#shit what was my art tag FUCK #EvilYodaArtCool #I remembered it yippee #Will Wood #wwattw #lego #will wood and the tapeworms #camp here and there #oh god is there a tag limit #cuz im bout to fuck shit up here #Everything is a lot #SELF-ish #self ish #the normal album #in case i make it #in case i DIE #a verbal equinox #jamface #big day for the jamface community #the real will wood #insert tag for obscure band that only like 5 people know and would require me to commit horrible atrocities for me to even know about #shit someone give me more tags

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: mentions of death, anxiety attacks!

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

you GUYS this CHAPTER is a DOOZY. I’m so excited and also kind of jittery lmao. you wanted the secret keeper’s story? you got it fam

part twenty-eight

❝ THE TRUTH ❞

MONDAY — AUGUST 17 — 7:52PM

ON MINUTE ELEVEN, WHEN THE WHOLE CABIN WAS QUIET APART FROM THE STORM OUTSIDE, BENTLEY STEPPED TOWARD THE TRAPDOOR.

“No! Please don’t leave me up here by myself,” Nico begged, lurching forward and latching onto Bentley like some kind of leech. His fists were balled up in the left sleeve of the redhead’s jacket so hard his hands were shaking. (Or maybe they’d already been shaking, which was probable.)

Bentley met his big blue eyes, half hidden by his blonde hair, which were properly watering now. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be fast. You can come if you want.”

Nico sniffled even though his tears hadn’t fallen yet. “I want to go home.”

Bentley said nothing, but attempted a reassuring smile like Bruce always did. He, too, had nerves buzzing beneath his skin, threatening to vibrate him across the floor, but Asten was right; they couldn’t give up now. They’d come so far (literally.) and this might’ve been exactly what they were looking for. The key to taking down the Secret Keeper, to becoming a Wayne, to saving his family. So no matter how (not) scared, (not) anxious, and (not) desperate to go back to the Manor Bentley was, he was going to do it. He had to win.

“Guys…” Asten’s voice floated up from the dark abyss. Bentley could see the light from his flashlight go brighter and darker, like he was moving it around the room. 

Bentley went for the stairwell, and, because Nico’s grip wasn’t letting up, he shuffled along behind him.

They took the dark stairs one step at a time. Bentley heard Nico gasp every time a piece of wood groaned under their weight. There was no telling what was down there — what Asten was seeing. There could’ve been people tied up. The newly missing citizens whose bodies hadn’t been found yet, or people that were… dead. There could’ve been dead bodies down there.

Bentley swallowed thickly, his heart whamming in his ribcage as they neared the bottom of the dimly illuminated staircase. All he could really see were plywood walls and a concrete floor.

And then Asten came into view.

He was standing with his back toward them, completely still, his flashlight aimed right ahead. The basement was big — the parts Bentley could see, anyways — and he was pointing the light at the farthest wall; a concrete wall. 

It was long, and seemed to be full of… square doors? At least two dozen, lined in two rows. It reminded Bentley of something Alfred had in the butler’s kitchen — tall metal fridges with a bunch of square doors. But these weren’t those, these were made into the wall. Each door had a sticker on the front, some green, some yellow, and some red, but Bentley couldn’t read them from where they stood.

“Ah merda,” Asten muttered under his breath. Nico made a strange little squeak, and while Bentley couldn’t quite see him in the dark, he thought he felt what may have been his forehead land against the back of his shoulder.

He was obviously missing something wrong. What was it?

“What is that?” Bentley whispered, hardly audible. Asten opened and closed his mouth a few times, eyes not leaving the doors. 

“It’s a morgue,”

Bentley said nothing. What was a morgue?

Asten cleared his throat, not looking back at them. “You… know what that is, ginger?”

“No…” Bentley muttered. Nico was crying. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what a morgue was.

Asten ran a hand over his blue hair. “It’s where they put people. After they… die. Morgues are… only supposed to be in hospitals.”

Bentley took a deep breath, his brown eyes bouncing across all of the metal doors. There were dead people in there?

They were in the room with a bunch of dead people? 

Bentley fought away the slight vertigo that threatened to take over as he stared at the doors. Tons of them. Dozens of them. With dead people inside.

In an attempt to distract himself in absolutely any way possible, he kept looking around the room. He couldn’t see much from the flashlight’s beam, but he did catch a pile of boxes to the left, and a large desk with a computer monitor to the right.

He felt Nico’s grip leave his arm, and the telltale rattle-rattle-rattle-hiss-hiss of his inhaler came from over Bentley’s left shoulder.

They were in a basement full of dead people.

Bentley’s mind was only brought back to him when Asten dared to step closer to the doors, shining the flashlight on the closest door’s red sticker.

The words came into focus for Bentley in the light — OLIVIA WRIGHT, THE VOID.

Bentley blinked. He knew that name; both of them. Olivia Wright was a girl that went missing after seeing the Secret Keeper — presumed dead. The Void was a portal-shooting metahuman that the Wayne’s fought on patrol not too long ago.

Bentley heard Asten let out a puff of air, moving the beam of light to the door to the left, another red sticker. This one looked like someone had attempted to rip it off. Half of the words were missing, but the name THE SECRET KEEPER was still clearly visible.

The next sticker was green, with a yellow one haphazardly placed on top. Bentley stayed rooted to the concrete floor as Asten carefully peeled the yellow one up to read the green one.

DAVIS HENDERSON, THE REAPER.

Bentley breathed out. Davis Henderson. The waiter from the bar.

The yellow sticker on top only said one word: COMPROMISED.

Asten moved to the next one, a red sticker with a yellow one beside it.

TITUS LANCASTER, PATHFINDER, the red one said. COMPROMISED, replied the yellow.

Titus Lancaster — the twelve-year-old boy who went missing. Whose parents…

Bentley took a breath, blinking a few times to steel himself.

The next sticker was green. AMANDA TODRYK, THE RAVEN.

Asten froze there.

Bentley’s own thoughts seemed to startle him enough to make him flinch. It was her. It was Mandy Todryk — they’d found her. They’d actually, legitimately found her.

It didn’t feel near as good as he thought it would.

Asten grabbed the handle.

“What are you doing?! Don’t you dare!” Nico ordered in a violent whisper muffled by his crying, brushing past Bentley’s shoulder toward their friend. “Are you insane? Are you insane?! We have to go, we have to call the police!”

Asten’s hand just hovered there. He was staring intently at the door, and Bentley couldn’t see much of his face, but he could imagine his signature stormy eyes.

“Asten!” Nico pleaded. Like his near-shout was a pulse of adrenaline, Asten jerked on the handle, and the door popped open.

All three of them froze.

The square hole was deep, almost the size of a coffin, and vapor billowed out when the door was opened like it was refrigerated. Laying in that coffin-like-hole, the top of her head facing them, was Amanda Todryk. Amanda Todryk. She was staring at the ceiling of the box she was in, her light eyes unseeing, her skin whiter than a ghost and lips a ghastly blue. 

Bentley’s hand found his mouth before he told it to. It was really cold in there. Asten didn’t make a sound other than a slow exhale, his green eyes focused, frozen. 

Amanda Todryk was dead. They were staring at her body.

Bentley felt like he was going to pass out.

His mind — God, he couldn’t focus, he couldn’t focus on anything — drifted and wandered and only floated back when Nico turned on a dime, took maybe a half step toward him, and threw up all over the floor.

Bentley couldn’t move. Not when the quiet thunk of Asten closing the door came, not when Nico sat down in the concrete and started well-and-truly sobbing. Bentley felt like he’d swallowed a bee hive. Like he was vibrating into numbness, like he was in some dark, cold place and he couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hear anything.

He wanted to go home.

A few more clicks and thunks came from the wall. Some distant part of Bentley’s mind told him that meant Asten was opening and closing the other doors. 

A blur of time passed. Asten was at the computer — when had he walked over there?

For a while, the only occasional sounds in the basement were Asten typing, and periodic rattling from Nico’s inhaler. 

They’d broken into a house and found a dead body. They’d broken into a house and found a dead body. They’d broken into a house and found a dead body.

“Ginger, come look at this,” Asten ordered. Bentley’s legs numbly carried him over to the desk without much thought — he wasn’t thinking very well anyhow. He wanted to go home.

There was a folder of videos pulled up on the screen. Each one had a different title, starting at SUBJECT ONE and ending at SUBJECT SEVENTY-NINE.

Asten clicked on subject one.

The video began to play, and a sterile white lab appeared on the screen. The only thing in the frame besides the floor, wall, and ceiling, was a large, white machine that stood probably two Bentleys tall. A conglomerate of machinery sat on top of it, as well as a button panel to the side covered with multicolored, glowing buttons.

“This is Dr. A. R. Keene. The date is March twenty-ninth, year two of the genome sequencing study. This is video number B101,” Their teacher’s voice came through the screen, though they couldn’t see him. “The Synchronizer, after it's year-long trial phase, is in complete working order. Now, the human testing will begin.”

The camera angle moved slightly as though the device had been bumped, and someone chuckled behind the camera.

“Charlie has ever-so-willingly offered herself up as test Subject One,” Said Dr. Keene, sounding a little exasperated. 

A gasp came from off camera, and then a female voice chimed: “C’mon, dad! I can’t let you rise to scientific fame without me! And why are you sounding so proper? You said these recordings are just for you.”

Bentley blinked when a girl came into the frame — young, probably around Jason’s age. She had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and large, piercing blue eyes. She crouched down in front of the camera and crossed her eyes, sticking her tongue out with an audible blegh noise. She was wearing a royal purple dress that, oddly enough, Bentley thought Steph owned, too.

“They’re also for my boss. He wants complete reassurance that the process is safe for his son. That’s quite enough, Charlie,” Dr. Keene sighed, and she stopped making faces and rolled her eyes instead. “Recent blood and DNA work goes to show that Charlie does not have the genetic mutation which turns common people into, what the press call, metahumans.”

The screen of a tablet appeared on the monitor when someone (supposedly Dr. Keene) held it there, full of charts and notes Bentley couldn’t really read. It disappeared just as fast.

Charlie sighed, glancing down at her nails. “Blah, blah, blah, science, science, science. Can we do this thing now?”

Dr. Keene sighed, and a few sounds came from behind the camera. “The internal Neuron Amplification System has been implemented inside the Subject for seventy-two hours. She’s reported minimal pain, and responds immediately to orders. The Subject has no memory of actions taken when the NeuroAmp is active.” 

“I forgot to tell you, I woke up sore yesterday from all the hurdles you made me run. Maybe you can mind control me to go workout. Then I won’t remember hating it!” Charlie chuckled. She leaned forward and began to twist at her blonde curls like she could see herself in the camera.

“It’s Neuron Amplification, Charlie, not mind control,” He deadpanned. Charlie flicked a hand toward the camera.

“You make me do whatever you want and I don’t remember it. Pretty sure that’s mind control,” She said with a sarcastic smile. “It’s fine; I trust you, dad. Just don’t read my mind.”

“I can’t read your mind,” He replied with a sigh. “Shall we begin?”

Charlie jumped to her feet, only her legs visible in the frame. “Heck yeah!”

Dr. Keene moved onto the screen. He looked normal — maybe a little younger? — and he was wearing a stark white lab coat that fell to his knees. There was a symbol on the back of the coat, small and subtle.

“That’s the symbol that was branded on the Secret Keeper’s head,” Asten whispered. Bentley watched in silence as Dr. Keene tapped buttons on the keypad next to the big machine. A loud whirring and beeping came, and the whole front of the machine was lifted up and out of the frame, revealing a yellow, padded interior shaped like a person. There were metal clamps on the wrists, ankles, and torso.

“Please enclose subject,” Came a robotic female voice.

Charlie hopped inside like she was excited to get in the thing. She lined up with the person shaped padding, and the metal clamps closed around her.

“The full DNA exchange process takes anywhere from half an hour to three hours, depending on the genetic makeup of the subject,” Dr. Keene continued to speak. “My guess is that Charlie’s will take more around the forty-five minute mark. I’ll continue the recording then.”

He pushed a few final buttons, and the machine closed around his daughter.

The video cut, and Dr. Keene’s face was suddenly right in the camera, his light eyes boring into their souls. “Charlie’s exchange is nearly complete. We’ll see how she reacts when she comes out, if the NeuroAmp still activates under her altered DNA, as well as testing if her newfound abilities come forth as predicted. In the future subjects, the NeuroAmp will be administered inside the Synchronizer,” He gestured to the machine.

“Exchange complete. Releasing subject,” Came the robotic voice again. Dr. Keene stood up and turned toward the Synchronizer, getting out of the way of the camera as it opened. What looked to be smoke plumed out of the opening, making it impossible for them to see Charlie.

And then she stumbled out.

Bentley inhaled sharply at the sight of her ever-familiar, stringy, platinum blonde hair. Charlie was breathing so hard he could hear it through the camera, and her eyes were squeezed shut so tightly it probably hurt.

“Charlie?” Dr. Keene questioned.

She snapped her eyes open, and Bentley gasped: “Oh my God.”

Her eyes were amber, and glowing.

Dr. Keene… had he.. he had turned his daughter into the Secret Keeper.

“Dad?” She blinked, looking around the room. “Did it work?”

“I’m activating your NeuroAmp now,” He replied. Bentley watched as Dr. Keene merely stared at Charlie for a solid five seconds, before she stilled and stared back. Another person came into view — a man in what looked to be a white janitor jumpsuit on the other end of the room.

“I can use verbal commands to activate the NeuroAmp, or simply think of the actions I wish for her to undertake. For example; kill him,” Dr. Keene ordered.

Without any hesitation or awareness, with a hauntingly blank expression on her face, Charlie — the Secret Keeper — turned to the janitor-looking man. She cocked her head slightly, and his eyes turned amber. Blood began to run out of his nose, then his ears, then his eyes, and he collapsed without a sound.

“Internal NeuroAmp is functioning at full capacity. Subject has lost all free will,” Dr. Keene recorded. “Transition from human to metahuman is complete and whole — no visible genetic mutations or diseases recorded. Metahuman abilities confirmed to act just as predicted. I will take a full blood and DNA panel.” 

Charlie turned toward Dr. Keene and held out her arm without hesitation, like he was about to take her blood. “I will email you the panel results and new DNA makeup, Mister Whittaker. You were right — we’re having a breakthrough. As of our first full conversion, the metahuman DNA exchange seems safe for Bentley. More tests and subjects will be sent to you for further analysis. We will destroy Batman — I can assure you that.”

Bentley froze.

Mister Whittaker was the boss Dr. Keene was talking about?

Bentley’s father was the one who’d created the Secret Keeper? Who was turning normal people into metahumans?

He didn’t even realize he was falling over until Asten caught him firmly by the shoulders, ordering: “Nico! Get that chair!”

Nico must’ve been nearby, because Bentley was sitting in a chair he didn’t even know was down there what seemed to be a half-second later. 

His dad had been the man behind the Secret Keeper.

He was never going to get away from him, was he?

Bentley could feel arms on him — small ones that looped around his neck from behind.

He only snapped back to reality when Dr. Keene’s voice came again: “This is Dr. A. R. Keene, video B1701, coming to report urgent findings — Subject Eighteen is reacting rather negatively to the DNA exchange.”

When Bentley worked up the willpower to look at the screen, there was a hospital bed sitting in the center of a solid white room, with a very small person laying it. They had black hair on their head and ghastly pale skin, but Bentley couldn’t pinpoint their face.

“Subject Eighteen’s body seems to be rejecting the newly transformed DNA. Symptoms include: fever up to a-hundred-and-five degrees, severe vomiting and abdominal pain, delirium, fatigue, vertigo, periodic loss of consciousness, severe sweating, and bouts of severe and intense pain described as burning,” Dr. Keene explained. “Titus Lancaster is our youngest subject, therefore we are getting our hands on a few younger than him to see if they share the same reaction. As for right now, we are keeping close tabs on his condition and caring for him as best we can. Sickness ensued as soon as he emerged from the Synchronizer, and has remained constant over the past ninety-six hours. His abilities have yet to be tested. His NeuroAmp is unresponsive in his current delirious and/or unconscious state.”

The screen went black, then a white wall with a large window appeared.

“This is Dr. A.R. Keene, video log B2301, regarding Subject Eighteen’s recent health issues — the sickness, after five days, seemed to resolve itself. Titus’s NeuroAmp is still unresponsive, so he’s scheduled for surgery to implant a new one on August twenty-ninth. As of now, since I am unable to control him, we have him in an enclosed space suitable for someone with his abilities. Titus, if you would, make yourself visible to the camera,” 

After a few moments of silence, Titus Lancaster appeared out of thin air with a whoosh on the other side of the large window. A white hospital gown hung loosely on his small frame, starkly contrasting his deep, nearly black hair. He had large, gray eyes that were bloodshot, and his face was lined with tear-streaks. Where had he come from?

“Please — perform your abilities so Dr. Whittaker can witness them,” 

Titus looked straight into the camera through the glass that was keeping him enclosed. Directly into it, like he was staring into Bentley’s very soul. ‘Please help me.’ He mouthed.

“None of that, boy. Do as I say or you’ll be punished,”

On command, there was a whoosh and a blur of color, and Titus appeared a few feet away from his previous spot. Then again, a whoosh, and he was back where he’d started.

“As you can see, he has the ability to teleport anywhere in the world, so long as he’s seen it before. We have him enclosed in a box of electromagnetic pulses that he can’t travel through until we get his NeuroAmp implanted,” Dr. Keene explained from off-screen. “We’re keeping a close eye on his health and wellness. As of now, he is the fastest Metahuman to grasp their abilities. Besides Charlie. Other young children have undergone the exchange without health issues, so we aren’t quite sure what caused his sickness. Thank you, Titus,” Dr. Keene said, and the boy whooshed out of sight. “Bless him; he prefers to stay in the rafters of his enclosure like some kind of bird at the zoo.”

The video ended.

Asten moved the cursor around and clicked on one of the videos at the bottom. The screen came up, and the camera was pointing at the floor and shaking so badly Bentley couldn’t even tell what was happening — like someone was running with it.

“This is Dr. A.R. Keene, video log B5301. This is regarding Subject Seventy-One- no! Don’t go back until Charlie gets here!” There was a muffled shout in the background, but the camera kept shaking. “Subject Seventy-One suffered extreme emotional trauma by seeing another subject he once knew — his NeuroAmp is unresponsive to me, and his abilities have grown dangerous and deadly. He’s killed at least twenty-five…”

There was muffled running footsteps. “He is attempting to escape the facility. Charlie! I need you to knock Davis out, cold, and keep him down until I can fix his NeuroAmp.”

Davis. The waiter.

“Yes, father,”

“Abilities seem to grow more powerful, volatile in the presence of extreme emotional stress. This is common knowledge, as a natural metahuman’s powers typically surface under extreme circumstances. Davis holds the power of death — he can kill anything living just by touching it! But-but under such stress, death seems to radiate from him like a slow-moving shockwave. People who can’t even see him are dying rooms away as his radius of death gets bigger. I… I’ll send you more tests with severe emotional stimuli with other Subjects who aren’t quite so deadly!”

The video ended, and Asten navigated to another one.

“This is Dr. A.R. Keene, video log B8601,” Their teacher was actually in the camera this time, sitting ahead of a solid white wall, the camera trained on his face. “Regarding Subject Seventy-Nine, Amanda Todryk. My initial DNA scans revealed that she already had the genetic makeup of a metahuman whose powers hadn’t surfaced yet. I would typically dispose of her, because I avoid messing with the DNA of already established metahumans, but I put her in the Synchronizer just for research's sake.”

He looked down, like he had a clipboard or tablet in his hand. “And she responded very pleasantly to the DNA exchange. It didn’t destroy her former DNA like I thought, but actually fused itself into it. The synchronizer endowed her with the abilities I chose for her — the ability to fly — and after the fact, I had Charlie work her magic in Amanda’s mind; traumatize her enough to awaken her natural metahuman powers. Funny enough, they’re the most cliche superpowers of this age — the ability to commune with animals. Now, Amanda is in good health, her NeuroAmp is working, and she has two fully functional abilities. The ability to fly, and commune with animals. She lives in an enclosure with a flock of Ravens.”

Dr. Keene tapped a few times on the tablet they couldn’t see. “Since she’s so stable, I’m sending her to the cryogenic waiting facility on the outskirts of Somerset to await release. You know the address.”

Cryogenic? Cryogenic meant… freezing stuff, didn’t it? Was Mandy just frozen? Not dead?

“Give me the word when you want me to release her into Gotham and I’ll let her out. I use-“

The video was suddenly drowned out by a wham! that came from upstairs. Asten’s hand flew up and closed all the tabs on the computer, flicking the power button.

Someone was upstairs. Upstairs where the cabin was a wreck. Upstairs where the rug was moved and the trapdoor was standing wide open.

Asten hardly looked at Bentley and Nico before he had ahold of each of their wrists, pulling them across the room. “Don’t make a sound,” He whispered almost inaudibly, so quiet Bentley didn’t even know how he’d done it. 

Bentley obeyed. There wasn’t much he could do, anyways. His mind was nothing more than panic and sadness and fear and anger and rage and terror all mixed together in a loud static that made him feel… nothing. Empty. There were so many things floating around in his head — Charlie, Dr. Keene turning normal people into metahumans, Davis, Titus, Bruce. It was so much that he couldn’t focus.

Asten pulled one of the fridges with a red sticker open, and Nico flinched away harshly — but much to Bentley’s surprise, there was no body inside. “Get in. Now.”

Footsteps thudded around the cabin above them, dust falling from the hardwood and settling on the concrete floor.

Nico, terrified, climbed in, and Asten shut the door. Then he opened another one with a red sticker — empty. Maybe that’s what red meant.

Bentley climbed in without hesitation. It was cold — the concrete box. Really cold. It went pitch black when Asten closed the door with a thump.

And he sat. 

He couldn’t hear anything very good anymore, but he thought he might’ve heard footsteps. He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His hands — no, his whole body was trembling but he couldn’t make it stop. It wasn’t from the cold. Colors were swirling in his vision even though all he could see was black, and if felt like someone was tying something around his throat  — like he was going to choke and die.

He wanted to go home so bad. Why couldn’t they just live normally? Why was his father, Dr. Keene… why were they doing this? 

His heartbeat sounded like a gong in his ears. His lungs seemed to be spasming for air, but he forced them with every bit of willpower left in his whole body to stop so he wouldn’t wheeze, so he wouldn’t give himself away. Everything just needed to stop. It all needed to stop. How was he supposed to make it all stop when it was spinning so fast he couldn’t see?

He heard someone thump thump thump down the steps.

He could hardly make out the difference between their footsteps and his own heartbeat. It sounded like explosions in his ears, in his head, boom, boom, boom, deafening to everything else. He pulled his knees up close to his shaking body, wrapping his arms around himself, too. Something icy streaked across his face, and that’s when he realized he was crying.

God, he wanted Bruce. This was a terrible, terrible idea, and now they were going to die from it. They were literally going to die and Bruce would have no clue where or when or how or why until Bentley was nothing more than a memory.

There was a slam.

They were going to die.

Bentley didn’t dare let himself move, not an inch, until the door to the box was whipped open again.

“C’mon, Bentley. We’ve gotta go,” Asten’s voice was near his head, and suddenly he was being touched, tugged. He forced himself out of the box, and as soon as his feet hit the floor, he fell.

“Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey,” 

Bentley hardly noticed the strange maneuver Asten had to do to keep him from hitting the floor. He was on his knees, being held up by a pair of arms that were around him but were definitely not his own. 

“Hey, buddy,” Asten patted him on the back firmly, but he barely felt it. He barely felt anything besides his own trembling and the sobs tearing their way out of him. (It wasn’t helping that Nico was standing to their left, absolutely crying his eyeballs out, too.) “I know this sh- this stuff is scary, but you have to stay with me so we can get out. Please breathe.”

It was pitch black in the basement apart from the flashlight that was laying on the floor — where Asten had dropped it to catch him, he assumed. There was no light streaming from upstairs, which meant the trapdoor was closed.

Asten stood up, dragging Bentley with him. “Can you run?”

Running, right now, was the last thing Bentley felt like he could do. But it was also the only thing he could do to save his own life.

He nodded jerkily.

Asten grabbed their flashlight and turned to the staircase, creeping back up the stairs with his bag and light in hand.

Bentley glanced over at Nico, whose right hand seemed glued over his mouth. His face was flushed red and he sounded more like he was choking than actually crying. 

“C’mon, guys! He’s out back, I can see the beam of his flashlight!” Asten ordered. Both Nico and Bentley, both varying degrees of numb, pushed themselves forward.

Bentley couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe when Asten shoved them up the stairs, couldn’t breathe when they ran as fast as they could out the front door, couldn’t breathe when they bee-lined for the woods instead of the road they’d come down.

They were going to die.

“Bentley. Bentley, c’mon dude. Breathe. We gotta go,”

Bentley was trying to breathe, but he couldn’t. The air he managed to suck in was coming out as nothing more than painful wheezes, and his heart felt like it was going to rip his chest open. They were in the middle of a forest on the outskirts of Somerset, and not a single Wayne knew about it. The only sounds that came to his muffled ears were the crunching of leaves and the clinking of the crowbar against other tools in Asten’s toolbelt. Everything was a blur of black and dark and he could hardly see.

Nico was lagging behind, crying too hard to run properly. That was fine, because Bentley’s inability to breathe was making him pretty slow, too. 

“He’s freaking coming, you guys,” Asten whispered anxiously, whirling around and trying his best to keep the panic off of his face, for the sake of his younger friends. The crowbar hanging on his belt nearly hit Bentley in the stomach with the speed he pivoted. But Bentley was too focused on trying to get air into his lungs through his wheezy sobs and splutters to see Asten’s green eyes flick nervously between the two of them.

“Jesus…” He muttered, and Bentley felt Asten’s hand land on the side of his head. “Are you having a panic attack?”

Bentley was pretty sure he absolutely was. 

He wasn’t able to respond between the ragged breaths and cries that were forcing their way out of him, so he didn’t.

“Nico, can you-“

“I’m getting it!” The blonde exclaimed through sniffles and sobs of his own. He dug around in the pocket of his blue jacket, and Bentley heard the telltale shake of his inhaler right before the hiss of the medicine being released a couple times.

“Here,”

Bentley saw the quick exchange of the inhaler from hand to hand, and Asten started shaking it, leaning down farther so he could see Bentley’s face. His hand had moved from his head to his shoulder and stayed firmly there.

“You gotta breathe deep when I shove this thing in your mouth, Whittaker. It’ll help you breathe,”

Bentley nodded quickly, and Asten promptly put the inhaler in his mouth and pressed on it. He sucked in about as much air as he could force into his rebelling lungs.

“Perfect, just do it one more time,” Asten stated, moving his hand from Bentley’s shoulder to the back of his neck to keep his head in place. “Nico, you see anyone?”

“No,” He whimpered, his voice obstructed by his near endless crying. Asten pressed on the inhaler again, and Bentley made himself suck in what felt like a gallon of air. (It wasn’t actually that much air at all.) The medicine made him feel kind of woozy for a moment.

Asten kept his hand on Bentley, but stood up straighter and looked around the woods, behind them at the cabin they’d come out of. “We have to go. You think you can run? I will not hesitate to give you the most terrifying piggyback of your life.”

Bentley forced a few more breaths in and out, and while the inhaler wasn’t making his stomach stop cramping or his panic fade, he wasn’t gasping for air so much anymore. 

Nico squeaked, a high noise in the back of his throat, and jerked on the sleeve of Asten’s jacket and choked on a few more sobs. “I see him coming.” 

Bentley turned back, and the unmistakable ray of light coming from a flashlight not that far behind them made him want to curl up and die.

“Run, go,” Asten ordered, ushering Nico out in front of him. “You got it, Bentley?”

“I got it,” He murmured. Running from Somerset to Crime Alley probably wasn’t ideal for someone still in the midst of an anxiety attack, but he didn’t really have a choice at this point. Asten shoved Nico’s inhaler in Bentley’s jacket pocket, and they started running.

The cracking and crunching of leaves under their feet was nearly deafening in the pitch black, vacant forest, and the dim light from the moon and stars were their only source of vision, as Asten’s flashlight had been abandoned when Bentley wasn't paying attention. Asten stayed in the back, behind them like some kind of bodyguard. 

Bentley was so focused on not falling and not throwing up and not hyperventilating that he shouted in fear when there was a loud metal CHINK! and Asten screamed.

Like actually screamed. Bentley hadn’t heard a sound like that since he’d been poisoned, and definitely not from Asten. It sent both him and Nico pivoting backwards instantly.

Asten was on his hands and knees in the leaves and dirt, heaving for shaky breaths, and there was a bear trap on his right leg.

There was a bear trap on his right leg.

“Oh my God!” Nico shouted, dropping to his knees next to him. Bentley stood in a mixture of shock and terror before Asten forced out the words:

“Get it off,”

He wasn’t crying, but he was batting tears out of his eyes. How was he not crying? How was he so okay? Bentley dropped down into the dirt on the other side of him, fighting to keep himself present.

Even in the dim light, Bentley could see the blood soaking through the leg of his pants. A lot of blood. And Asten was trembling, so Bentley put a hand on his side to give some kind of support. He had no idea how to remove a bear trap.

“These are freaking illegal-“ Nico was muttering (and still crying, now harder than he had been.) as he examined the trap, trying to figure out any way to get it off. 

And there were footsteps coming. Bentley had only just heard them, glancing up, and he could see the beam of a flashlight panning through the forest.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Nico murmured, bringing one hand up to his mouth and sobbing into it. 

“Just…” Asten cursed under his breath, leaning into Bentley slightly. “Just take it out of the ground, and… and we’ll get it off later.”

“You’re going to drag a bear trap on your foot where? Onto a bus? A taxi maybe?!” Nico squeaked. Asten reached for his toolbelt and pulled out the crowbar, holding it out to Bentley. The footsteps and flashlight beam were getting closer, and they wouldn’t be able to get away in time.

“Bentley,” Asten said seriously, grabbing his shoulder with one hand and attempting to hide a grimace of pain. Bentley looked down at the long, cool piece of metal he put in his hands. Wasn’t getting beaten by a crowbar how Jason died all those years ago?

He didn’t have much time to think about it, because the footsteps were getting closer, and they weren’t going anywhere.

Asten was hit by a wave of trembling, and he squeezed Bentley’s shoulder. “When he gets here, beat the hell out of him.”

Bentley looked back at the flashlight in the woods. Nico was crying hysterically, hands hovering and gently touching the bear trap.

“Hey!” A voice came — Dr. Keene’s voice. A voice that would’ve been reassuring if Bentley’s life was normal. “Don’t move!”

He held tight to the crowbar, bringing it up in front of him, ready to swing. He’d never hit anybody like that before. What if he wasn’t strong enough?

Something thudded and bounced on the ground next to Asten. They all looked at it.

Was that a grenade?

The world went white.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

#batfamily #batman #batboys #oc; bentley whittaker #oc; bentley #mb; a hundred ways to become a wayne #oc; asten #oc; asten evans #oc; nico allen #oc; nico rockefeller #oc; nico #ov; the secret keeper #ov; secret keeper #ov; charlie reins #oc; titus lancaster #oc; titus #oc; davis henderson #oc; davis #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #oracle #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #cassandra cain #orphan #tim drake #red robin

[mvshr00m-1]

Future!Leonardo and Future!Donatello ref sheets!

These took way too long, so please interact and reblog lol

Alongside the two character sheets (which shows two front face versions, one in full gear and one that's more casual. And also some other stuff around them, like Leo's sword & arm and also Tello's tech bow and battle shell)

I did also do a lil height comparison thing cause I can, tello would be a little taller than Leo. Prove me other wise.

Some design things to point out:

For the most part Navy's (F!Leo) design is pretty similar to his canon design in the movie, except for some of the marking being moved or added, and of course I edited some of his clothes to fit better with my style.

But since Tello (F!don) doesn't have a canon design, I was able to get a bit more creative with him!

Aka i used Navy as a base, but gave Tello both arms, made his trousers longer (and purple of course), and edited the belt thing to fit his design more.

I also gave Tello two plastron cuts on one side (like in my og design), but inside of having the other side of his plastron have just a cracked off piece or having it covered with a metal plate, I just made it look like it got filled in with a plastron like filler.

He does have the same arm gloves like Navy (minus the bandages).

Of course since Tello is THE science lad, I have him a lab coat with the Donnie tech logo on his upper arms, and made it pretty long cause that would look cool af.

I did end up making a proper battle shell design that is a mix of all his other battle shells that he used when he was younger! It having holes on the side where his metal hands come out, and the purple part being able to open up and inside would be some mechanism that can look like his little jet pack thing, which he would make with his mystic, attaching it to his physical battle shell

He also has a more detailed upgraded arm gauntlet thing.

And he does actually have purple chin marks (which aren't visible due to his metal plate chin implant), and also has little purple marking under his eyes. Both resembling the markings Navy has!

In my og design for Tello he had a different style of leg prosethics, but I ended up changing it since it was hard to draw, and the idea of Tello saying fxxk you to the kranng and using their robot legs as a prosthetic just speaks Donatello lmao

Tello also has very similar goggles to his past self, but the metal being much darker and stronger. And of course its been upgraded too.

Finally both Navy and Tello have bright yellow eyes... One, cause it's cool as fuck. Two, cause I would say present Leo and Donnie would have brown eyes, but due to the radiation and apocalyptic environment their eyes would get a lot brighter and would glow in the dark a little. Small cool concept I have.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #art #leonardo #digital illustration #rottmnt future leonardo #future leo #donatello #future donnie #future tello #rottmnt future donnie #designs #character #character designs #peepaw multiverse #refrence

[axel-skz]

hey hope ur having a great day!

could u possibly write an angst request with skz? (any member)

something along the lines of the reader having a terrible childhood and having to go through trauma and really dark days and maybe opening up to them about it? or maybe the member finding them unconscious due to something and then opening up about it?

ONLY IF UR COMFORTABLE PLZ

ig I'm asking for it is cause I'm not doing so good and just need to feel something lmao

A/N: AWH! I will do it, since you asked soo nicely. Hope it makes you feel better 😘 AND for everyone else. I haven’t done it in a bit so let’s do the song roulette today. Im gonna shuffle all of stray kids music and we shall see what song we get. We get… HaPpy (Han)!

It felt so common now a days to hear people joking about childhood trauma. Mental health was this big thing and people were so open about their problems.

You wished you could be that way but every time you thought to tell Minho about even a pinch of it, the sweat broke out. You would start heaving and the panic would overtake you. The dread would take control and you felt like you were in a dark cave. Left alone where no one would ever find you.

That only ever happened when you thought about telling someone though. The easy solution, never talk about it.

You had a few triggers that reminded you of the cursed day and that would usually cause you to spiral till you passed out. But it had been years since you had last dealt with it.

You had a false sense of security cloaking you. Little did you know, the veil would be lifted soon.

You were making dinner an hour before Minho was going to come home from work. You had the radio playing and it was a whole fun little dance number. The cats were running around somewhere in the living room. You were having a great time. You saw your goofy dance moves in the mirror and it made you laugh. The fact that you’re with such an exceptional dancer and you couldn’t put two good looking steps together. Funny.

Your mistake though, you had gotten too comfortable.

You were having a lot of fun but it all came crashing down when a song started to play on the radio that reminded you of that night. You dropped the wooden spoon you were holding and you tried to grab the counter to keep balance.

Maybe you could work through this. The blood rushing to your head, making you dizzy, losing control would somehow stop. The tunnel vision came not too long after with the inability to breathe. Before you knew it, you were out like a light.

You had no idea why your head was throbbing. The light behind your closed eyelids slowly getting brighter.

No, I’m comfy, let me go back to sleep.

The words you couldn’t get out of your mouth because it was being stubborn and wouldn’t do what you wanted. You felt paralysed until slowly you started to regain control of yourself.

First order of business, open your eyes. And you did. But then regretted it because there was a lightbulb right there and now you were having a staring competition that you definitely were in no shape to win.

You came to as the room slowly stopped spinning. Everything was blurry until it wasn’t. You could see a very concerned Minho looking down at you. He seemed so flustered and out of breath.

It took all the energy you had to try and get up, not without him trying to stop you either. But since you were so stubborn, you got up and hugged him. He hugged you back immediately.

After some time and him looking after you, you were sitting on the sofa with him. He had put the cats into the bedroom so they wouldn’t be jumping everywhere around you.

It was a little awkward but he really wanted to know what had happened so very carefully, he asked.

You weren’t sure how to answer so you quietly started to open up.

‘I was home one day with my mum. We were making food and the radio was on. We were dancing when suddenly… there was banging on our front door… she went to go check, carefully. But no amount of care could help us. I was… Terrified when I heard yelling. There was gunshots. I don’t want to get into all of it but thankfully, my mum and I survived.’

He had held you tighter and closer the more you talked. You had gotten shaky and the tunnel vision had come back a little but he was like a grounding presence.

‘I can’t believe that happened to you,’ he seemed utterly shocked.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it before. I have a very hard time talking about it,’ you felt terrible about not being able to tell him anything.

‘No! It’s alright. You never have to tell me anything. It’s completely up to you how much or how little you share.’

You couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was.

‘Now, I think it’s probably best we take our mind of things… you wanna watch a movie and eat overly greasy food?’

You laughed, ‘how could I ever say no to that?’

He got up after kissing your forehead gently, ‘I’ll order 3 pizzas right away!’

You stopped him for. A moment by grabbing his hand, ‘I’d like to tell you more about what happened… one day… if you wanna know…’

He kneeled down in-front of you and held your hands as he looked into your eyes with adoration, ‘I will be here for anything and everything with you. Whenever you’re feeling confident enough to talk about it, I’ll be right here.’

He went and let the cats out of the room. Then he made sure to order the food. The rest of the night was spent cuddled up on the sofa with the love of your life and your fur babies.

You never quite thought about it but you loved your life now. You had all the love you could need. You had a home.

A/N: I HOPE YOU LIKED IT! Please like and reblog and share and smile and be happy or ELSE!

See you soon with our sweeet boy, Felix!

See I would make my work longer but my brain just doesn’t wanna do that 💀

So you either get too much dialogue or too much detail.

Lee know: can’t we have the best of both worlds?

I turn to look at him: um… 1, didn’t peg you for a Hannah Montana fan. 2, this is my moment… you got a whole story… go away…

He gets up, sets his chair on fire and walks away nonchalantly.

I turn back to look at you with wide eyes: I’m gonna pay for that tonight…

I chase after him frantically.

WAIT! I’LL BUY YOU ALL THE CAT TOYS YOU WANT! DON’T BURN MY HOUSE DOWN!

#stray kids #skz #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #love stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids angst #stray kids minho #stray kids fanfic #stray kids lee minho #stray kids x reader #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz lee know #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know comfort #lee minho #lee know x y/n #hurt/comfort #skz angst #angst #skz minho #minho x reader #stray kids lee know

[oneforthemunny]

I am curious to know, do you think rockstar!Eddie gave nepo!baby push presents with all of the girls and if so what would they be👀👀

yes and I haven’t elaborated much besides a few things bc here’s the thing: as much as yes, he’d spare no expense like the more expensive it it doesn’t mean it’s better for her. like shes got everything, grew up with everything she ever wanted, and money just isn’t gonna impress her. out buying or stupid shit like that she’ll just be like… ok???

it has to be something sentimental ya know? so I’ve said eddie started getting the flowers pressed and framed from the three wedding bouquets and then kept it going with the baby shower ones too. I really think each girl would have a different flower and then eddie gets it pressed bc he’s sappy and sweet and she decorates her office with them. they just mean the world to her bc they’re preserved and just remind her of the important dates.

I think he’d get her something unique after they decide to start naming the girls after places that they were conceived.

like he’s insane so he bought the ‘return of persephone’ painting bc some art gala person told him it signified a bond between a mother and daughter so he was sold pretty easily lmao. proudly told you that and it’s hung up in your living room (bc I really picture the house to have like a dark art deco kinda vibe a little eclectic).

for kensington, the inspiration came later. you were always saying you wanted to remodel the backyard and have it look brighter. more homey now that you had babies. so he learned that kensington palace was famous for its gardens, and he found the plants that they had and had it replicated (on a very tiny scale) in the back yard. forget me nots, tulips, dahlias, lavender all planted in rows that mimicked the gardens and lining a little path. it’s still there today even as the kids are grown.

for the twins… it was fucking hard lol. bc italy is gorgeous but it’s really difficult. he ended up getting a gold necklace with four tiny pendants (added two more for the other girls later) each with their birthstones made in italy. it was a finer and pricier item but you loved it. you still wear it a lot.

zahra was easier bc eddie quite literally bought the egyptian perfume for you in bulk lol.

vega was the hardest for eddie bc it was your last baby. he decided to take your wedding band, and have the birthstones of the girls added a long with diamonds to fill in the rest. it wasn’t the best, in his opinion, but you thought it was sweet bc it was more symbolic and touching.

those are just a few 🫶

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #rockstar!eddie munson

[sorcerous-caress]

Don't worry I'm definitely not rushing!! There's so much content and I'm still learning- stuff like wizards and warlocks scare me since they seem so complicated so I've been using Karlach and Lazael since they seem more straight forward for now. Astarion is definitely my favorite playstyle though- I've always loved Ninjas so being able to do 2 bonus actions is...*so* nice! Yeah- I can't say I'm surprised at the fixation 😅

Admittedly, I do absolutely adore him and am looking forward to writing for him; already have a fic in progress in fact- but I've seen a very similar thing happen to another character where he's either made entirely negative and insane or entirely positive and has to be "protected" when it's really a mix of both. Some parts of fandom I think are just like that 😅 Glad I found here and other more indie blogs who focus on npcs and niches though too so I get a wider variety!!

I'm so weak to being patronized and being talked to all condescending like and I just imagine this mean, bully male drow just targeting this crybaby Human in camp. They try to act all tough, but the drow just knows they're being a brat so he'll put them in their place. He's so damn *mean*- and he only gets worse when they run to their camp mates for help, or to hide. He steals your diary, telling you to "come get it" in a note he leaves them and they have no choice but to reluctantly leave their camp mates tent to go into the forest. It's dark- and even with their weapons, the Human's hypervigilant- but they still get taken off guard. Pulled back against a tree by their fragile little throat. Reading their most personal thoughts to blackmail them- ugh. Their crush in camp- how desperate they are, maybe even their secret kinks and desires? Gods, I'm so weak.

Oh God- or imagine a Human who's *scared* of the dark? Or a Drow who makes them scared of the dark by constantly frightening them during it? The predator/prey dynamic? *Please*. Also, self-indulgent(like all this *isn't* lmao-) because I'm sick atm and can't take large pills but Drow watching a Human work themself up to taking the medicine and just- taking it himself and then kissing them to force it in their mouth, not breaking it till they swallow, purple fingers dragging down their throat to make them shiver and raise thier shoulders. You've ruined me author. I can't do this. 😭 When I transfer my side blog to my new main blog I may have to write something for this dynamic because of you. So glad I could make your day a little brighter like you do ours lovely! Thank you for all that you do, as always! Sorry this is so long- the writer inspiration hit out of nowhere lol ❤️ -S

Fuck yeah ninja Astarion, let's fucking go!

That sounds wonderful anon, feel free to share your fic whenever you're finished <3 I'm sure it will be amazing.

And god yes, you get it, the whole human kink thing. Especially how condcending the elves would be with it, fuck especially the drows who already think they're above other elves.

Like maybe the other species keep their restraints a bit while in the party with the human, as much as their mind runs wild, they attempt to show some decorum and dignity. Only act like the perverts they are when the human isn't watching.

But once the male drow joins them? He's picking on the pathetic little human on his first day. Pulling and picking at your clothes, asking if humans really just walk around wearing slutty clothes all day?

He probably gets off on tormenting you, reminding you how he's hundreds of years older than you so you should shush your pretty little mouth and let him do what he wants, afterall aren't you humans so obsessed with showing respect for age? Then show him the respect he deserves whenever he pulls you on his lap, out of the blue and without a care to whoever is watching.

It's like second nature to him how casually he demeans your entire being, everything you ever hoped to achieved he probably has already, every place you wanted to see or travel to he has already seen, most historical events you read about he has lived through himself.

So in every way, he tells you that he clearly better than you. So don't go whining whenever he steals your diary and taunts you with all of your embarrassing secrets, or whenever he takes something precious from you and make you beg for him to give it back.

He teaches you some words in drow elvish, excepts they're completely not what he told you they meant. Watching you confidently call yourself his personal slut when you thought you were saying something else. Refuses to give you his name, makes you use all of these titles that are so humiliating to yell outloud midbattle, but he won't help you if you don't use them so poor you.

#♡human kink #♡drow kink #♡male drow #♡human reader #♡-S

[divinegrey]

𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 / 𝚛𝚎𝚢𝚗𝚊 𝚡 𝚐𝚗!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

yeah idk what happened here LMAO just have it

prompt: On an assigned mission from Brimstone, you and Reyna are sent to scout the party. You just want to complete the objective and go home. Reyna has... other ideas.

words: 1769

warnings: sexual themes, reyna being reyna (which is to say, flirty as hell), drinking

This is certainly out of your comfort zone. 

You clear your throat, leaning against a wall as you survey the party in front of you. On the basis that you’re fluent in plenty of languages, Brimstone chose you to come to this… gathering. You’re not exactly happy about it, considering these kinds of things aren’t your scene in the first place, but whatever Brimstone says is final. 

“Seen anything interesting yet, pequeño?” 

There’s the other part of your problem. Brimstone made Reyna go with you. 

“No,” you reply, your voice drifting to the earpiece plugged in. Adjusting the velvet of your blazer, you glance over to where Reyna is sitting. By herself, on a plush red sofa, overlooking the dance floor as heavy Latin music fills the space. “People are getting drunk. That’s about it.” 

“You must not be looking hard enough, then. Don’t you feel how alive this party is? How everyone is dancing? The way their souls smell so good~” 

“Can you focus, please?” You say, feeling a little uncomfortable at the way Reyna all but groans on the couch, followed by some sharp laughter. There are dozens of people here, chatting and talking and dancing to the music, but it feels like you and Reyna are the only two people in the room, the way her piercing radiant stare never leaves yours. 

The way she holds herself is a mark of how powerful she is. The people gathered know that too, knowing well enough to stay away from her. Power is something Reyna holds at her fingertips, something that cascades along the dark ink of her shoulder in an ombre of dark to pink, then back to dark again. 

You bring your drink to your mouth, finding respite in the ice and in the burn of the alcohol going down your throat. 

You don’t have any problems with Reyna, per se. She has problems with you, given the fact that you’re just a plain old human compared to her Radiant gloriousness. More or less, though, she likes to hold it over your head. It’s infuriating, and you wish— you just fucking wish you could walk over and knock her down a peg. 

“If I have something on my face, you could at least tell me,” Reyna says, her voice cutting through your thoughts. You exhale, pulling your eyes away and going back to your drink and surveying the atmosphere. “Oh, don’t be coy. It’s okay, you can admit it. I’m beautiful, I know.” 

“You’re full of yourself,” you bite back. 

A chuckle. You watch Reyna raise her brow, leaning back on the sofa and spreading her bare arm out. The gold cuffs around her wrists sparkle, and you watch as pink light slides up her arm, through the dark lines of her tattoo, and to her chest, where light flares underneath the rich purple fabric. 

“Oh, am I now?” Reyna cocks her head to the side. “Come here.” 

“No.” 

Her eyes grow brighter. “I won’t ask again, pequeño. Come. Here.” 

Fucking hell. You hate this. 

You hate that you’re pushing yourself off the wall, you hate that you’re walking over to her. The music beats harder, filling your veins with something heady that you can only blame on the alcohol you’ve been drinking all night to avoid having to think about the stupid mission you’re supposedly here for. Reyna’s maroon-painted lips quirk up as you approach her. You hate how she looks so fucking smug when you stand at the foot of the sofa she sits upon. 

“Do I have to tell you to do everything? Sit down.” 

You sit down. A respectable distance from her, but you feel her finger dip into the collar of your blazer. 

“Why so far, pequeño?” Reyna whispers, the pink ends of her hair sliding over her shoulders with her head twisting to look at you. 

In response, you say, “No me llames así. Are you allergic to using my name?”

She laughs. “No, but it’s fun seeing your face get red. So easy to anger, are you?” 

“We’re here for a reason.” 

“A shitty one. C’mon, do you think we’re actually going to learn anything at this party? Brimstone hooked onto Cypher’s lead too early. Now we’re both here, and you’re having a piss-poor time when you should be dancing,” Reyna says. She leans over, puts her hand on your thigh, and (damn her Radiant strength) pulls you closer to her. She crosses her leg over the other, locking in your leg with her calf. 

“This doesn’t feel like dancing,” you whisper, keeping your eyes straight ahead. You clutch your drink tightly. 

“I didn’t say you had to be dancing right now,” Reyna says, her voice on the shell of your ear. You shut your eyes, willing yourself to keep your hands still (instead of the alternative, which is strangling her). “You can dance later. At least keep me company, cariño.” 

Reyna and her stupid, stupid nicknames. 

“There are a dozen people at this party who would love to keep you company,” you remark, not noticing Reyna pulling out your ear comms until there’s the faint pop of the seal breaking. You say nothing about it. “Don’t you see them frothing all over you?” 

“They’re boring,” Reyna replies, throwing the earpiece onto your lap, into your hand. It’s followed shortly thereafter by hers, and you hear the faintest sound of someone talking to you both through it. Brimstone, maybe. Or Cypher. Either way, you don’t care. Not one bit. You curl your fingers over them. They’re not needed. 

“Boring? And I’m not? I’m just a mortal to you. A human,” you say, keenly aware of how close your faces are to each other. She smells like the expensive brand of whiskey, the stuff you could only ever buy one glass of before your wallet hurts.

Her hand rests on your chest, then moves down, pulling the button on your blazer to open it. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head— you didn’t wear much underneath the blazer due to the temperature, but Reyna doesn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about it. Her palm burns on your stomach. 

“Don’t you know?” Reyna tilts her head to the side, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up at the sensation of her breath. “You’re the only one who can keep up with me, cariño.”

“Am I?” The question comes out breathless. The tension is electric, racing down a livewire between the two of you, so much so to the point where you think if you don’t look away, you’re going to combust. 

You turn your head, bringing your drink to your lips. The cold liquid is a balm to how fucking hot you feel everywhere. This isn’t even close to what you were expecting to happen. You feel like you should hate yourself because Reyna has always not liked you, and yet, here she is, curled over you like a predator on top of her prey. 

“Reyna…” you whisper, fingers gripping the glass cup. The condensation runs down your wrist, dipping under the sleeve of your blazer. 

“Quiet, cariño,” Reyna says. “Looking downright sinful in this jacket.” 

“People are looking,” you say, doing your best to keep from squirming under the attention. 

“Don’t care.” Reyna’s curt reply shoots up your spine like ice. “What was poor Brimstone thinking, sending you with me when you look like this?” 

“What happened to glaring daggers at my head every time I showed up anywhere?” You ask softly, recounting all the times Reyna would turn her nose up at you. You know you’re not Radiant, but you’re still a valuable agent regardless. Reyna just… made you feel less so.

“Do you know how difficult it is to be near someone who always smells so good? Whose soul I want a taste of so, so bad, cariño?” 

The words are like a spark to a fuse. 

You turn your head, abandoning all thoughts of everything else around you. The only thing that becomes important is the feeling of Reyna’s lips on yours, and god, she’s devouring you whole. Easily, she dominates you, controlling the pace of the kiss with just a hand on your stomach, her nails scraping red lines into your skin. You clench your hand around the ear devices, opening your mouth when Reyna’s tongue slides across your lips. 

You give in, and it feels too good to be true. 

The bass from the music pounds in the back of your mind, almost in time with the quick beating of your heart. Reyna is everywhere, infiltrating every pore of your skin with that rich smell coming off her tan skin. She’s a duelist in every sense of the word; when you push, she pushes right back with more force, keeping you pinned to the sofa. So, you simply surrender and sink into the material, letting Reyna devour you in a different sense than she normally would. 

You hope. 

Reyna pulls your head back, her teeth scraping against your neck. You open your eyes, inhaling harshly, realizing just how many people are glancing over at you right now, watching this brazen display of heated passion. Reyna has that natural ability of drawing eyes toward her. No matter the situation or context.

“Reyna—” You exhale forcefully. “Lots of people. Don’t like it.” 

Her trump card lies in the fact that Reyna is terrifying. 

Reyna growls, pulling her head from your neck to scan the room. Like a wave, people turn away, fear trickling out into the room like a heavy blanket. Suddenly, everyone goes from being interested to giving you a ten-foot radius. You can’t help but be a little thankful for it, but then Reyna goes back to sucking your neck, and now you’re simply ascending through the clouds. 

“I’ve got half a mind to call this mission quits,” Reyna says into your ear, brushing back some of your hair to tug on your earlobe with her teeth. “What Brimstone doesn’t see, he doesn’t need to know.” 

“Wanna go somewhere quieter?” You say. She gives you a sharp grin and releases you from your prison. 

“No, cariño, we’re going to go dance, and then I’m taking you back to the HQ to fuck you until the sun rises,” Reyna says, every word a drawl from her mouth. It’s accented by some laughter, very classic coming from her, and you’re sure your entire body might as well just burst into flames. She stands up, and now you’re looking up at her. 

You take her hand, because who are you to say no?

~~~~~ A/N: listened to pa' mala yo by natti natasha for most of this. it was good as hell

#reyna x reader #valorant reyna x reader #reyna #reyna valorant #valorant imagines #valorant fanfiction #valorant x reader #valorant

[zalewaves]

I’ve seen people taking that Soldier, Poet, King test. I’d listened to The Oh Hello’s song before, and I loved the song so I planned to give it a try.

My partner always calls me a poet, the way I twist and shape the ugly and turn it into something beautiful. It’s something I’ve done all my life. So when I received Poet as my result, I wasn’t all too shocked. However, the description tore me apart.

Lots of people were finding out who they are, but they wished to be the Poet? I assure you when I say, you don’t. We all have fought our battles, maybe we won or maybe we lost, we all find out who we are in this world, but it is the Poet who never stops fighting. To feel like you must fight endlessly for your place in this voidful wasteland of a world. To feel trapped in an endless room, alone with no one to hear you, only darkness- So you try so hard to create your own light. You fight to maintain that light, to shine it on others, hoping to be seen- hoping to secure your legacy. You just want to leave the world brighter than when you entered, but this world is covered in bloodshed and death, and the more your light touches, the more it burns. You turn the pain into something beautiful- something like a fuel to keep burning onward. You just want freedom from the loneliness, freedom from the fear, and a secure ground beneath your feet one day. An earth that will hug your body and love you for all that you are.

We all are pawns in this great dance of life. Instead of filling your heart with envy, or trying to will your own destiny, follow the path. The light will always be waiting on the other side, I promise. It does not fade, it does not waver. Even some days if it is covered up, it still exists, waiting for you around each obstacle. Follow your light, and it will find you: in just the right place, at just the right time. I can promise you that.

Credit to the creator of this quiz: @atlanticsea you’re freaking brilliant, but your quiz made me cry lmao - good work <3

#The Oh Hellos #soldier poet king #poet #solider #king #motivation #self care reminder #cw slight vent #uquiz #tiktok

[ben-the-hyena]

Also remember my post where I remark the King without his gloves has huge claws ? Well the Queen is seen several times without her gloves and she has normal human-like hands, a bunch of cousins, who all are kids, are gloveless and have no claw on sight, but the Emperor always has gloves on too

So with @papabirdurskeks we concluded again that adult males grow big claws, it used to be to defend their families when they were feral looong ago but now it is kind of useless now they are civilized and live like humans they hide them with gloves to prevent themselves from accidentally popping them out and clawing someone's head off. Like even when he takes a shower the king keeps his gloves on

Now if we remember that we see that when he is very angry and menacing his usual human-like teeth suddebly become pointy fangs, @papabirdurskeks provided the explanations that they can be retractable, and in that case could exist in females too. Unless that is too just an intimidation parade for males only or a tool to defend

If it is for both tho, it means that that alien species used toxbe predators. Which makes them being bigger than planets even scarier. And could explain how the King can chew on katamari to make them stars, super hard fangs... and TEETH HARD ENOUGH TO CHEW ON THE CHORE OF A STAR OR A PLANET. MAYBE THEY USED TO BE A MALEVOLANT PLANET DEVOURING SPECIES WHO FORTUNATELY TURNED BENEVOLENT THROUGH HISTORY

The more this series goes the more I agree it is a cosmic horror story lmao

Mat also pointed our what I never noticed, they have a tongue slightly longer than ours. Possibility that they used to groom themselves or needed to reach theeir food in tiny places

She also remarked that even though they are plantigrades they don't seem to need shoes the same way we do, they can wear them sure the Queen does and the King does in Katamari Forever but they are fine with softer fabrics that are continuations of their leggings most of the time. Meaning they have harder feet than ours, and since we never see the adults berefoot and the kids are too chibi with fingerless balls for hands and feet in the games' style we can't know how they are exactly

And she also made the headcanon adult males have a bigger triangular orange nose that appears more visible than on females because bigger and the color contrasts more with their skin because it used to be a way to attract the females with brighter colors like mandrils do in real life with how much red and blue their noses can be (and funny when you remember a mandril eating ramen is the main illustration for the OST of Touch My Katamari lmao)

When you add to that the previous' post aboit how she and I concluded they have dark animal eyes...

The Katamari aliens are not just giant adults and tiny babies and weird head shapes but also predatorous animals who grew humanoid through time and evolution

#alien #anatomy #biology #papabirdurskeks #moi #katamari #gif #post #tumblr #king of all cosmos

[coffeewritesfiction]

WIP Questionnaire

Tagged by @bee-barnes-author, thank you!

Gently tagging: @slenders1ckn3ss @kmlaney @bardicbeetle @astras-rambles @meerawrites @musingsbycaitlin @andromedaexists @dyrewrites and an open tag! Blank questions below the cut

For "Farewell Vesperos":

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created? For the Runner Owen series as a whole, it was all spawned by a single image of a gothic city floating in the sky. It's changed a lot since then, over five years ago I think. I don't remember the first part I came up with for Farewell Vesperos itself, but it was probably the Vesperos family it's named after.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be? For Runner Owen? Instrumental, for sure. Owen, my protagonist, walking through the foggy, crystal-lit streets of Theris. Being watched by people in brighter windows, or following him in the darkness. He turns around and lifts his lantern to see... Cut to the title screen.

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why? I adore Owen and his two enemies/LIs, Aurum and the Scarred Man. Explaining why is hard, but they and their chemistry just make me happy. There's also Locke and Nora, who are dear to my heart - I think some people I've talked about this with like Locke a little too much, but I don't blame them. For Farewell Vesperos in particular, GOD, I am loving how Lawrence Rhyne is shaping up. He's such a charming fuck.

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share? Kind of a confusing question. But uh, I've been told [combining the comments of different people] that Farewell Vesperos reads like Jane Eyre with an Agatha Christie type plot, so if you like either of that, you might like Farewell Vesperos. People who like darker fiction - hell, maybe even dark romance specifically! - might enjoy the dynamics between Owen and his two LIs. We'll see how that shapes up though.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP? Settling on the plot. This is the third edition of this story I'm writing and if it evolves on me again I might just scrap the whole fucking thing.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them! Not at this point, but the vampires in it can turn into animals. The Scarred Man in particular can become a raven.

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.) There are trains, powered by crystals, a la Victorian steam trains. Most people get around with the draconics that humans have allied with, those being small dragons that cooperate with humans for their own reasons. They function like horses, except some of them can fly.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now? Right now, I'm trying to figure out the villain's motivations. I have a terrible habit of imagining awesome things happening and then going 'but wait - I know this character would do this, but why?' Kind of annoying at this point.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in? Well, there's the murder mystery! Lost heirs, arranged marriages, malicious vampires with dreams of conquest, wicked vampire hunters led by callous royalty who will do whatever ruthlessness needed protect humanity, enemies to lovers extreme slow burn [I'm talking over several books], spooky Victorian houses, lots of racially diverse characters, a transmasc protagonist navigating a society with specific gender roles for trans people... And just. Gothic fantasy in general.

10. What are your hopes for your WIP? I don't expect to get a lot of money writing this lmao, but I'm not writing it just for the money. I'm writing it because I know there's guys like me out there who want and need to see themselves as wanted - both as men, and as romantic and sexual partners. I want transmascs like me to feel desired. And I want people that aren't transmasc to really get that we are desirable, and attractive, as any other person. Ultimately though? I just hope people enjoy reading the damn thing and don't rip it to shreds over some stupid plot hole I missed pffft

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

#writeblr #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #runner owen series

[rahleeyah]

i know you've talked about it before, but why do you think svu is lit so badly when oc does a much better job with it? do you think the literal darkness is intentional/stylistic? i'd be interested to hear your thoughts! (inspired by me fighting for my life in photoshop - for context, the top corner has no edits done, the bottom has maybe around 12 adjustment layers. if the scene were lit like that in the show, i'd want it brighter, as is its hard to push it too much further in ps without the image starting to degrade)

It is wild how different the two shows are and it really becomes apparent when trying to make gifs!!! I don't know why they're so different but I do think it's stylistic/intentional. OC tends to be very blue, and svu tends to be more brown, and that's down to choices in how the shots are set up. I talked about the lighting recently with the trauma in a pear tree hotel, and with that scene and this one I think maybe an argument can be made that the (imo v poor) lighting is meant to convey a sense of intimacy; it's late, it's dark, the spaces these conversations are taking place in is private, and the dim lighting may be intended to pull the viewer in to that moment. It doesn't; the struggle to make out facial expressions/details is alienating and unsatisfying. In both those scenes you know the actors involved are putting their whole pussy into their facial expressions and we can't see them!!! It's incredibly frustrating. But it's the same thing with the camera work around s21-22; it's so shitty and difficult to watch (some episodes literally made me sick to my stomach) but there's a school of thought that says the jerky motions of the camera are intended to make the audience feel like they're walking alongside the characters. Again, it doesn't work, and I spent all of last season grateful that they'd moved on from that (I will never, ever forgive the shaky camera work in rotps we deserved better). So yeah I think it has to be intentional and I would love to have a chat with the person responsible for making those decisions lmao

#asks #s.vu #e.o asks

[magicstormfrostfire]

I'm in pain right now, and it's your fault. I'm reading Rose Drops, which is amazing, but I'm four chapters in and already on the verge of tears...

Anyways, I was wondering how you get inspiration for these fics? I love how you write and I just can't go without knowing the source of these wonderful ideas.

Lol sorry about that; honestly that's what I was hoping for though! Since that happens so early in the story, I wanted to show that that kind of thing happening isn't always 'the end' of a tale. It can lead to so much more.

As for inspiration....hm. Well, I've always been a storyteller; I used to make tons of comics in highschool and college, though I never showed them to anyone.

I can at the very least say that Rose Drops i wrote during a very difficult time in my life. I was homeless, couchsurfing, jobless, and my cat, who was my closest friend, died. there were so many things I was losing and leaving behind. Sonic has always been a comfort for me since I was a child, so I wrote a story about change and loss to cope with my own, and my hopes for a brighter future.

As for Blizzard Bedfellows, that one was a mix of talking to friends on Discord about Sonadow, and experimenting with the Boom universe for fun. Also i just really wanted to make a sonadow hibernation fic for the winter!

Equinox is sort of a mix of my fascination with vampires, werewolves, dark romance, blood and gore; stories I wrote a lot in highschool and are still fun. But I also thought Silver and Scourge would make an interesting dynamic and MAN do I enjoy writing them together. Equinox is a guilty pleasure in a way.

Lastly, Heavenly Bodies is from my Cardigan AU; where everyone is in their 30s-50s and just being cozy. I was inspired by Scragony's 'Vampire Husband' on webtoons. A comic about an immortal vampire and his elderly human wife. A very cute and cozy story. Sonic and Shadow kind of mimic that; an immortal hedgehog and his crunchy husband lol.

I have another idea mulling around in my head from a dream I had, which im tentatively calling Fractured AU. though nothing is concrete yet. Essentially Sonic Shadow and Silver go missing, and pieces of their personalities are copied and split and/or fused into sentient beings. Amy and the others try to find all the copies to solve the mystery of the hedgehog's disappearances.

And a Host Club AU that I made 2 years ago, thay is REALLY not put together beyond a rough draft lmao (it was originally a template for a Silver/Scourge fic, but I ended up going the Werehog route and made Equinox) the host club AU is technically centered around BlazeAmy, Sonilver, and Scourge/Vanilla, among other ships I like...but its so rough, man. I dont even talk about it because its not a full idea lol

In any case, im rambling, but I thought id that the opportunity to talk about all my ideas since you asked! It also gives a rough frame of things im working on for the future too. I hope you have fun reading Rose Drops! ^.^

#magicstormasks #asks #sonic the hedgehog

[sprout-fics]

‘You realize then, dimly, that this is going to end someday.’ OH NUAR please ghost and brat reader are my babies don’t subject them to loss and angst (I love angst hehe) but I love happy endings after the angst more :,) you write ghost and reader incredibly well I love their little world, also poor soap lmao.

So fun fact; I actually had a breakdown last night as I realized how this story ends, and then made some friends cry with me when I told them. I was genuinely so upset I considered discontinuing this series.

Fortunately I had help in figuring out a better ending, but since we're talking angst I might as well share what the original concept was

You leave him.

You leave him for Soap.

He let this happen. He decided to share you, just once he said. Once was all it took. Ghost sees the way Johnny looks at you, sees the way his eyes light up with a spark he's never seen before. And you, you smile around him, brighter than any star. There's an easiness between you both, and it's dazzling, effortless in a way he can't replicate.

Ghost sees it in your eyes. He knows. Loving him is hard, and he knows that. There's things inside him he can't reveal. Things you so desperately reach for even as he pushes you away. It isn't fair to you, the way he refuses to bare himself, but he can't help it. With Ghost you have to try, and it's hard. You have to push so hard he cracks and only then you get scarce reward for it. He's just not ready, he's too broken and bitter inside to completely let himself open to you. He doesn't deserve you.

So when he sees you and Johnny he knows then too. And it hurts. It hurts because as much as he can't tell you that darkness inside him he still fucking needs you, needs someone he can rely on, even for just a moment. It hurts more than anything he's ever known, the thought that he needs you, wants you, but that he's not good enough for you. He's not the man you deserve.

With Soap you're more alive, you're less sorrowful, you aren't pulling at the pieces he can't show you, seeking him out only to get a sorrowful void in return. Simon sees him, sees Johnny and he can tell just at a glance that his best friend is in love.

So he sees you with Johnny, doesn't interfere even when your gaze strays further and further away from him. He whittles himself down where the pain can't hurt him, further and further until the fissures inside him crack and splinter outwards, until there's no room left for you at all.

Because at least this way you, you and Soap can be happy. As long as he can give you that much. He doesn't deserve anything else.

#ANGST #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #sorry for being horrible #This is no longer the ending thank goodness! #Something happier is planned now #It will still hurt but nowhere as much as this #Brat x ghost

[hlvraik]

Just coming in to say thank you for being my one constant reminder of my love for these funky characters from a G-Mod improv rp!

I have a fun question: nap time with the kid!Science team (including kid!Gordon cuz why not) how do they all sleep? I'd imagine Kid!Benrey sleeping in a nest made of an object or two from the other science team members

Oh no problem-o, lmao! These funky little characters and my silly AU have been constantly rattling in my skull like a single marble.

Also, I'm really glad you and others like my silly AU as well! :))

Gordon sleeps in a curled-up position, whether he's lying down or being carried; he just has the habit of curling up into a little ball. Not to mention his habit of always holding onto something while sleeping, such as a typical stuff animal, though this can easily be replicated if one isn't available. (For example, with a bag of chips, someone's hand, his own glasses, or a very small headcrab.)

He just wants to ensure that someone or something's always there with him. :))

Bubby's a restless sleeper who would constantly shift in their sleep or simply sprawl out in unhuman ways. The tube certainly didn't provide much wiggle room, and God forbid it provided comfort. So they can finally stretch once they're out of the tube and no longer constrained by the once tight, suffocating glass walls. Though, from time to time, they'd unconsciously fall into the habit of sleeping exceedingly straight and tense.

On a brighter note, any blanket becomes a heated blanket thanks to the heat radiating from them.

Coomer is the most normal sleeper of all the Scientist Team most of the time. He's fast asleep in one place one moment, and the next? He managed to climb to the top of a vending machine while still sound asleep. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, it throws everyone/anyone for a loop.

While asleep, he'll use one of his robotic limbs to hold onto Bubby's hand, no matter the distance. (Do not separate them.)

Tommy would always sleep with Sunkist, if she's present. While they will occasionally lie beside her or rest their head against her, Tommy prefers to sleep on top of Sunkist. Sunkist doesn't mind, and instead of sleeping, she'll often stay awake to ensure no harm comes their way. She will, however, fall asleep if the coast is clear and she feels safe.

Besides being another obvious pair, do not separate; if it's too bright, Tommy will lower their propeller hat over their eyes so it can be dark enough to sleep.

 Benrey, no matter if they're an egg with legs or a full-blown toddler constantly blowing Sweet-Voice bubbles into Gordon's face, they sleep the same way. Besides often taking materials from others and, DEFINITELY not asking first, proceeding to make a man-made "bed-nest," they're sort of like a cat. Before settling down, they would pat it down and even do a little spinning before settling down.

Similarly, when a cat is content, sometimes they even purr! Gordon should obviously know this since they used to be the "bestest of friends!" according to himself

#long post #like really long lol #sorry for responding so late ive been a bit sick but im feeling better!! #hlvrai #hlvrai au #kid!au #gordon feetman #benrey #benry #tommy coolatta #coomer #bubby #hlvrai bubby #hlvrai tommy #hlvrai gordon #headcanons #half life vr ai #hlvrai benrey #hlvrai coomer