#he would hate crawling out of a grave a second time

[rubydubydoo122]

As much as I hate to say it, and as much as I love Jason ToddI'm gonna need DC to kill him again, and keep him dead this time.

Now before you come at me, let me explain why I think this. Jason Todd is a character that while alive will always be connected to Gotham, and because of his differing morals with Batman, he will always be in a cycle of conflict with him. We saw it in UTRH, we saw it in RHATO, we saw it in Gotham Wars. Because Jason isn't a villain (I feel like in UTRH he was an anti-hero, and any actions that didn't align with the morals he set during that time is because he was villainized by Batman) Bruce's actions feel overtly brutal (batarang to the neck, beating him so har his helmet broke, chemically altering him to feel fear) especially since it's towards his SON the one he claims to have mourned. It's a vicious cycle that isn't fair to Jason, and it's major character assassination of Bruce. It's overdone and I am sick and tired of it, but I do not see either characters backing down from their moral stances.

Now you might be thinking, just because Bruce and Jason don't get along doesn't mean they can't make up-- they've tried. Multiple time. Every time Jason and Bruce take a step in the direction of being close to each other again, Bruce becomes a control freak and abuses Jason like he's his own personal punching bag, and there's only so many times someone can forgive someone before enough is enough.

But I still haven't explained why specifically I think Jason should die again. And it's because of two reasons. Jason deserves peace, and as long as he's a ghost walking on earth, he won't be able to get that. Also because it would make Great Angst. We all know Bruce would break if he lost Jason again. He's going to push everyone away, and if you're going to have Bruce push everyone away, give him consequences for his actions.but we saw how protective Dick got during Gotham Wars. Just imagine Dick walking up towards Bruce and saying, "It might've been my fault last time for not picking up his calls, but this time, you can't deny that this, is all your fault." "How dare you! He was my son!" "You lost him once, and when he came back you treated him worse than any of the loonies in Arkham. You don't miss him at all. You only feel guilty because of your goddamned savior complex. You only treat him like your son when he's dead."

and while we're at it, maybe Tim can have a complete crisis. He had to pick up the pieces of Bruce in the aftermath of Jason's death last time, and look where that got him. All of his friends and family died. He was never truly recognized for guiding Bruce out of the dark, and we all know that Tim is one inconvenience from killing a bitch. Maybe this is it. I actually think it would be hilarious for Tim to take up the Red Hood mantle, Only to screw with Bruce. Because he knows that's what Jason would've wanted.

Have Damian afraid of what Bruce has become in guilt. Have Damians castle of worship for his father come tumbling down, because Damian always knew his father loved all of the previous Robins more than him, and if his father no longer wanted them, what was stopping Bruce from sending him back to the League.

Like DC if you're going to use Jason as a catalyst for an event, kill him off again. last time it was on a whim. This time, do it on purpose. This time, give his death a purpose. This time, make sure his death changes something, because god, Bruce has fucked up so much.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #dead jason todd #bad dad bruce wayne #dc comics #I triple dog dare you DC #let my boy have some peace #let Jason RIP #maybe cremate him this time #he would hate crawling out of a grave a second time #unhinged tim drake #protective dick grayson #insecure damian wayne #rhato #utrh #gotham wars

[rboooks]

DC X DP fic: Legal Compensation

Bruce Wayne doesn't know what sick monster would think it is funny to ruin Jason's grave, but when an alert arrives at the cave, he's flying towards the cemetery intending to find out.

And teach them some respect.

Of course, he knows Jason's not in there- not after his son returned with more hate and rage than a person- but it was still his last resting place.

He barely acknowledges Tim and Damian pulling up beside the Batmobile, each on their own bike while Dick, Steph, and Cass fly above him. They all got the alert. None of them are happy.

When they arrive, it's to see a teenager happily whistling as he shovels away layers of dirt. The stranger is in a white and black hoodie, a neon green ghost crossing from the front to the back, and his white hair with glowing green eyes lets them know it's not a human.

Or if it is, then not an average human. Meta, based on how he picks up way more dirt than he should be able to lift with his glowing green shovel.

They also see Jason get there first, his eyes glowing in Pit Rage and .points a gun to the back of the teenager's head. Bruce opens his mouth to shout, Damian manages to throw a ninja star, but they are far too late.

Jason pulls the trigger. A large bang is heard across the cemetery. The teenager drops into the deep hole he is making.

The family can only watch as the Pit Rage disappears from Jason's mind, and horror creeps onto his face as he realizes what he has done. It's too late now, though. The child is dead.

Bruce feels sick to his stomach- and then The teenager stands up, his head reforming in terrible familiar green liquid. The family forms a protective circle around a frozen Jason as the teenager turns around to look at them with Lazarus' green eyes and smiles.

Smiles at Jason with far too bright eyes. "I found you! I didn't realize you already left your grave, but that makes things easier. Jason Peter Todd, yes?"

"Who are you?" Bruce demands, stepping before his second oldest.

The white hair boy's smile becomes wider- if that's possible. "I'm Phantom. I'm working on behalf of the Ghost King."

Damian hisses, "What does the most powerful being in the multiverse want with Todd?"

"Baby Bat?" Dick asks without really asking.

"The Ghost King is the ruler of the Infinite Realms. The place where grandfather harvests the Lazarus Pit."

That's not good.

The teenager laughs. "The very same. He wants me to offer Legal Compensation to Mr. Todd."

"Legal Compensation? For what?" Tim asks this time.

"The glitch. See, Mr.Todd wasn't supposed to die- he was supposed to break the door and crawl to safety while the bomb jammed. At the same time, the Master of Time was preoccupied with another dimension saving the lives of six very important people to the Ghost King from a junk food explosion. Because of that, he was not there to control time correctly, creating a glitch in this universe's time flow. It speeded up certain areas, in your case, the location of the bomb's jam, making it explode earlier than it should have. He corrected it by bringing you back, but you were in a grave by that point. The Master of Time realized the grave injustice this was, so he sent me as legal Compensation."

That.... was a lot.

"How are you legal compensation?" Jason growls.

"Well, those people were just as important to me as the Ghost King. Since you lost your life due to the incident, I will give you my natural life here as a human for you to use." The teenager's form shifts after an ample bright light, and suddenly they are looking at a perfectly black hair blue eye average looking human who smiles happily at them. "Ta-da! So what do you want me to do first, Master Todd?"

"No." Jason hisses, looking angrier than he's ever looked before. Bruce can't say he doesn't feel the same way. "No, the Master of Time does not get to kill me. Go oopsie-daisy and then send me a fucking slave as an apology!"

"Not a slave- more of a- ugh Bulter!" The teenager argues, trying to crawl out of the hole and falling down, into a heap as he oversteps. "Wow, being a full human is going to get some getting use to."

"No!" Jason yells, turns around, and walks away.

"Wait! Wait! Master Todd, wait for me!" The teenager calls desperately, but Jason disappears into the shadows of Gotham without a backward glance. The boy slides into the mudd, voice muffled as he screams.

Steph takes pity on him offering her hand to help him out of the hole. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Phantom." The teenager says with a grateful smile taking the hand and climbing out. He gives the rest of the family an awkward smile "Danny Phantom"

Bruce ends up with another son by the following day. Jason ends up with a restless wanna-be butler who follows him everywhere, trying to serve him. The fact he cure his Pit Madness didn't seem to even register with him.

Jason wants Danny to leave him alone and quit the "I must spend the rest of my human life providing for your every whim". It's getting creepy.

#dc x dp crossover #Legal Compensation #Part 1 #Clockwork stepping in for Danny messed up other timelines #The glitch that brought Jason todd was that #Danny is now a full human meant to serve Jason as a sorry #Or is he????

[starflirts]

NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN (I'LL CRAWL HOME TO HER)

in which luke is determined to keep you close to him forever. luke castellan x fem! reader, wc: 1.36k, warning: swearing, note: first post dedicated to my favorite villain... enjoy !

"Wha-... what the fuck are you talking about Luke ?" From the edge of his bunk bed, your boyfriend avoids your stare, looking anywhere but at your face. "Look at me ! You can't just drop this upon me and act like nothing is happening !" He can hear the hurt and the confusion in your voice and decides to get closer to you. He wants to hold you tight and never let you go but settles for holding your hand.

"Babe, listen to me. please." He’s the one to look at you with pleading eyes this time, one hand circling yours and the other resting on the nape of your neck. "You know how much I hate Olympus and how they toy with us just for their own benefit. I know you feel the same way, watching kids barely getting here safely only to never be claimed or only when their parent deems it convenient ! Do you think it's fair ? To be used as a puppet so you can finally be worthy in the eyes of mom or dad ? Risking your life to fix their shortcomings ?"

His emphasis on dad doesn't intrigue you, you already know. Everyone knows. His eyes are full of resentment and his scar seems so red, a stark contrast with the unmarred skin. Luke goes on and on about his supposedly great plan and you can only watch in horror as the boy in front of you looks nothing like the one you fell in love summers ago.

Hand reaching for the one still laid on your nape, you look up, brows furrowed. "Does Annabeth know ?"

These three words are enough to make him flinch. He opens and closes his mouth and that tells you everything you need to know. Your face twists with disgust and anger as you shove his shoulder enough for him to stumble back, away from you.

"Fuck off Luke !" you spit, tears cornering at your lash line. "How dare you turn your back on your little sister, on me ?" Your voice cracks but you try to put up a brave front, wiping the corner of your eyes. You can only stare at him in disbelief, even though your hands itch to bring him closer to you, to hold him and to at least try to understand his sudden change of heart.

Luke attempts to step forward but you pull back and he can hear his own heart breaking. He runs a hand over his face before answering you with a shaky sigh: "Look, I’m doing this for everyone at camp, for us ! I want us to live free of that burden. We deserve so much more than what the gods have to give !" His voice falters and he clears his throat. "I don't want to wake up one morning and find out you're gone because of them, because you went on a stupid quest for the sake of your parent who can't even bother to acknowledge you !" He looks at you fondly and sighs. "Do you remember the time I came back from the quest Hermes sent me on ? You were so scared something had happened to me. I can't let that happen again. I can't let that happen to you. I want to protect you, to protect us ! You- you're all I have."

Tears fall freely as you shake your head, hugging yourself in an attempt to calm down. "There’s got to be another way, you can’t… You can’t do this Luke ! I-" you sob.

And you feel so afraid yet you don’t know whether you’re more scared of Luke himself or of the thought of losing him to something this insane. The cogs in your brain turn and turn but you can't bring yourself to drive him out of your life, not when you've seen him at his best and at his worst, when you've been by his side for so long you can't even remember.

In a few steps, Luke is engulfing you in a hug and all resolve you had to push him away crumbles within seconds. He rests his chin on the crown of your head while you cling to his shirt. He holds you tight, as if the mere thought of you walking out of his cabin would become true and you might vanish with the wind.

"Hey hey, it’s okay, we’ll… we’ll figure it out, we still have time." he whispers in your ear and you want to believe him, you really do.

Slightly pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours, hands coming up to cup your face. With a sad smile, Luke's thumbs wipe your tearstained cheeks.

"There, don't cry," he tells you softly, "my pretty, pretty girl. You know I'll never let you go right ? I love you too much to be able to live without you."

His smile is genuine as his hand cautiously takes your own to place it on his chest, right where you can feel his heartbeat. "You’re here, always and forever, no matter what."

Luke's world had crumbled a long time ago, ever since he realized the gods were monsters in disguise. But now that he has you in his life, whatever's left of that sparkle of hope he had when he was fourteen (and when the world seemed so big yet so full of chances) shines brighter. You were the one who rebuilt everything from scratch, who fixed the gaping hole in his heart.

Your free hand comes up to brush his cheek, thumb trailing his scar. You wish you could close your eyes and pretend that the world isn't on the brink of disaster, that your Luke isn't about to change its course.

The love of your life starts again: "I'll be with you at any cost, believe me. And if anyone, so much as the gods or that new forbidden kid attempt to separate us, I'll walk- heck I'll drag myself back to you !"

His promise is sealed with a kiss and you're certain you'd follow him in a heartbeat: "for better or worse ?" you ask in a small voice, lips hovering over his.

He answers you with a smile and shiny eyes: "for better or worse."

#luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fic #percy jackson imagine #pjo imagine

[clareguilty]

Ghost/f!reader - Possessiveness, Edging

Second kinktober prompt! If anyone is interested in commissioning another Ghost or MWII prompt pls let me know <3

Ghost/f!reader | Possessiveness, Edging, Uniform, Size Kink Rating: Explicit | No warnings Word Count: ~2000

You should have woken up at the sound of the door.

The fact that you don’t even stir until the padding of the too-small bunk is sinking under sizable new weight means that you’re in way worse shape than you originally thought.

Still, the only person who would be trying to squeeze into your bunk in the dead of night is pretty low on your list of threats to watch for.

“L’t’nant?” You mumble, scooching closer to the wall so he’ll have more room. Not that it would make a difference. The bed is barely big enough for you. Ghost would hang off the edge at every end even if he had the whole bunk to himself. “What’re ya doin’?”

“Heard they had to pull you out of a hole earlier,” he manages to settle in behind you — not comfortable, but at least close. “Came to see how my girl was doing.” His voice is low, more of a rumble than anything else. You can feel the rough material of his vest against your back, and you want to grumble at him for not even dressing down before coming to bother you, but it’s nice to feel his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Bad,” you groan. “Medical has me off the field for a few weeks at least.”

Ghost makes an inquisitive sound low in his throat. You aren’t sure what he’s asking, so you just ignore it, choosing instead to bask in the comfort of having him here with you. It’s dark and quiet in your room, and even being cramped on the smallest bunk the SAS could offer is nice compared to the shitshow you just crawled out of.

He shifts slightly, trying to keep from falling off the damn mattress, and his fucking gear pokes you in the side.

“Could you take that shit off?” You want to jab him with your elbow, but you can’t. You settle for kicking at his shin with your heel.

“Can’t,” he sounds apologetic. “I’m heading back out as soon as they get a bird ready.” He has nothing to be sorry for. This is the way it’s always been. The two of you catch each other for hours at a time — passing moments — in between missions.

“How long do we have?” Your voice sounds small and you hate it. Now is definitely not the time to be weak. 

“Hour? Maybe two?” He runs a gloved hand over your side. “You should sleep.” He starts to move, to pull away, and you can’t have that. You can’t even reach for him.

“Wait,” you kick him again before he can stand. “Stay. I’ve got plenty of time to catch up on sleep after you leave.”

Ghost doesn’t say anything, but you watch his silhouette step away from the bunk. Before you can even try and protest again, the fucker has flicked the lights on.

“What the fuck?!” You curse, shielding your eyes with your good arm as you jolt upright.

“What the hell happened to your arm?” Ghost is kneeling by the bed before you can blink, inspecting the sling on your arm and the concerning amount of tape and bandages beneath it.

“Just a strain,” you would shrug, but you can’t actually move your shoulder. “Some fucker wrenched it out of place, and then a beam fell on it when the building came down.”

He’s still got his mask on, but you can see the tension in his jaw. “Someone touched you?” He growls. His hands are hovering over the sling. Too scared to hurt you.

“Graves’ men.” You reach out with your good arm and lace your fingers between his. His gloves make his hands bigger than they already are, but you make it work. “They got some kind of code or something and turned on us. We couldn’t send a signal out. I was trying to fight my way out when someone had the brilliant idea to blow up the entire base.”

“Please tell me you killed the fucker.”

“With his own fucking gun,” you spit. Piece of shit.

“That’s my girl.” Ghost brushes a hand over your hair. He trained you to be able to take care of yourself. The touch is sweet, but then you realize how closely he’s watching you. The way his eyes flit across your body, calculating.

“I’m fine,” you promise. “Just the arm. Nothing else. It’s not even that bad.” You pull up your sleeve to show him.

That turns out to be a mistake.

There’s a dark purple palm print, bluish at the edges. It wraps around your arm in the exact place that the American soldier had grabbed you earlier. You didn’t even notice the bruise before. It was all the same throbbing pain.

Ghost is gentle, surprisingly so, as he lifts you off the cot with strong hands beneath your hips and lays you on your back, splayed across the bedroll. “Absolutely not,” he hisses. “No one gets to mark you but me.”

There is the screech of metal on concrete as he yanks the cot away from the wall, giving him more room.

He can’t get your shirt off without destroying all of the medics’ hard work, but he yanks your pants around your ankles and tugs them off before tossing them aside.

Honestly, you like this turn of events. There will be plenty of time to sleep after Ghost has shipped off to wherever he’s going. You’re going to be grounded and on bedrest for at least a few days, the least you could do is kick it off with a bang.

“Fuck yes,” you hiss, shifting your hips to get more comfortable on the bedroll. 

He runs his hands over your thighs, and you wish he would take his damn gloves off so you can feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

Instead, he takes his time. Seeking out the tension in your muscles and kneading in with his thumbs. It feels heavenly, but it’s not what you want right now.

“Ghost,” you warn, “hurry the fuck up.”

He responds by pinching your ass, and it’s so cheeky and childish that you can’t help but giggle. “Don’t rush me, Dove,” he orders. There’s so much command in his voice that you have no choice but to obey, and he knows it. He trained you, after all.

He does finally remove his gloves, and you all but melt at the heat of his hands. His thick fingers drag through the wetness between your legs, and you arch your back, hissing in pleasure when he drags his thumb over your clit.

Usually it’s so quick and rough between you, those heated collisions after a firefight or the rushed scuffles in the dark. This is more time and quiet than you’ve had with Ghost in weeks. He knows it too, because he refuses to give you exactly what you want.

“Please,” you gasp, reaching for his wrist with your good arm to try and direct his fingers where you want them.

He catches your hand, pinning it to the cot and leaning in to growl in your ear. “You’re going to be patient.”

You want to tell him that patience isn’t on the table when he has to ship out in less than two hours, and that he better make you come before then, but you know better than to talk back to your lieutenant.

He doesn’t even give you the chance to speak, because he chooses that moment to increase the pace of his fingers against your clit until you’re hurtling toward that peak. All you can do is gasp and moan as he brings you off.

Except the bastard doesn’t. He pulls away at the last possible second, pinning you in place with his hands on your hips so you can’t even move as the overwhelming pleasure disappears in an instant.

“Ghost!” You cry out. “Fuck! You piece of shit!”

The fucker just has the audacity to laugh. You want to punch him straight in his stupid mask, but your good arm is currently in a sling.

“Patience, Dove,” he warns you again.

By now, the aching pleasure has receded back to a humming need, and Ghost slips his fingers back between your legs. You nearly kick him when he presses two slick fingers inside you and curls them, the stretch and shock of pleasure overwhelming after his previous torture.

“Yes,” you breathe.

It’s slower this time. He doesn’t rush as he works you over. He drags his rough, thick fingers over that same spot again and again until you’re shaking and whimpering before increasing his pace and pressing his thumb against your clit.

You’re so close, and it’s so much stronger this time. Every muscle in your body is tensing, and you don’t even mind the pain from our injuries when every other sensation feels so good. You can’t even keep your eyes open.

And then it stops. Again.

You actually do kick him this time. At least you try to. He catches your foot before it can connect with his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You demand.

He leans over you, cupping your jaw with his clean hand.

“We’re going to do this one more time. And you’re going to behave. If you can do that, I’ll let you come on my cock. Understood?”

You lay there panting, staring up into his mask and the burning intensity in his eyes.

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

This time, you don’t fight. He doesn’t waste your time like he did before, bringing you right to the edge and holding you there, fucking you on his fingers as you bite your lips and dig your fingers into the bedroll.

And when he pulls away just before you can tip over into an absolutely mindblowing orgasm, you hold yourself back from trying to wrestle him to the ground with his own knife.

He wrestles with the fasten of his trousers, freeing his cock before settling between your legs on the bunk. “You’ll stop me if it hurts?”

You dig your knee into his side. “Just fuck me already.” You don’t care if it fucking hurts. You just want to actually get off.

He’s still gentle as he lifts your hips and lines up his cock, sinking in to the hilt in one blinding motion.

At least he’s done dicking around at this point, because he actually fucks you like he means it. And he doesn’t knock your hand away when you reach between your bodies to rub your clit.

“You wanna come?” He asks, and you feel your blood burn white hot at the question. “Gonna come on my cock?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer automatically.

And then it crashes over you, all of that built up pleasure. Every single touch. You’re absolutely sure you’re going to need to go back to the medics because you definitely just fucked your shoulder back up again. But it’s so worth it when Ghost is making you feel this good. You almost regret trying to kick him. Almost.

“That’s right,” he says, thumb tracing over your spit-slick lips. “Who makes you feel this good?”

“You, sir,” you pant, chest heaving and heart thudding as you come down from the blinding rush of sensation.

“And can you give me one more?” He doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s fucking into you again harder than before. You know he’s going to make you come again.

You don’t stand a chance, already clenching around his cock as he forces another orgasm out of you.

It’s only when you’re limp and absolutely fucked out beneath him that he lets himself come. You want to be angry about the mess, but you’ll clean it later.

Ghost doesn’t bother trying to get your pants back on. Just half assedly wipes up the mess between your legs before climbing back onto the tiny cot and curling around you. You don’t even mind the roughness of his vest and the way all his gear jabs and pokes you.

“How much longer ‘til you leave?” You ask.

“Not long.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then: “I’ll wake you before I go- if you want to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when you’re gone.” You grab his hand that’s draped over your waist. He hasn’t put his gloves back on yet, and you trace all of the scars and marks on the rough skin.

#ghost/reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #kinktober 2023 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mwii #ghost mw2 #simon riley/reader

[melimelissa998]

A Favor.

Bang Chan x Reader

Summary: while having a night out with your friends, you end up saving a stranger's life from being drugged, but little did know you'd end up with a mafia member owing you a favor...

“Oh! look who showed up today" I hear Vernon say. I roll my eyes trying to hide a smile knowing he was talking about me. “Yeah, yeah don’t get too excited, I’ll crawl under my rock soon” I joke and he smirks. 

The thing is, I really do love going out with my friends, but sometimes work makes me too busy or too tired to meet them on a weekday night. 

“Wanna play this round?” Mingyu asks handing me a cue stick “Loser buys first round of drinks” he adds and I raise my eyebrow “I’m in” I agree and he has a big smirk on his face “You just digged your own grave man” he informs me, I roll my eyes again and playfully push him out of my way. “I’ll set” Mina starts setting the table with the pool balls in place, when she finishes, she asks if we’ll play one against one or teams. At the same time, I suggest teams and Vernon and Mingyu say one against one, “Why?” I ask confuse “Because you’re going to lose” Vernon says and Mingyu agrees “Excuse me?” I was outraged, I look at the 3 of them but none say a word, I saw how they were trying not to laugh at my face “Oh, okay, so that’s how it's going to be” I challenge them with a small nod to myself. 

But little did I know maybe 30 minutes after that, I would in fact be the loser... 

“I hate you, all...” I tell them as I walk to the bar for our drinks. “Hi” I greet the boy behind the island “So, you lost?” Lee Know asks as if he knew what was going on, but I wasn’t surprised. We were kinda frequent. They had good beer, good nachos and cute guys working here. I nod with a little grimace on my face, he chuckles and smirks “Give me a second” he tells me and starts serving a drink to the man a stool away from me. When Lee Know finishes, he looks at me “Six beers? he asks but I shake my head “Just four” I raise 4 fingers in the air so he can see in case he didn’t hear me. He nods and turns around to get them from the cooler. I wait bopping my head to the music and from the corner of my eye I can see the man aside me shoot a look my direction, he quickly takes something out of his pocket and drops it in the glass, he turns to my direction again, as if he was making sure I didn’t see what he just did. Lee Know turns to hand me the beers “Hey!” he says in a firm tone making the man jump “Go give it to the boss” he orders and the man nods nervously, I follow him with my eyes as he passes behind me to walk up the stairs that were on my right side. “Anything else?” Lee asks, I turn my attention to him and raise my eyebrows for a second “Nop, that’s all” I smile and thank him. I go back to the pool table and hand my friends their beer, “Free beer taste so good” Mingyu jokes after the first sip. We all laugh at his comment and I can’t help roll my eyes, again. As I did, my eyes stay looking up at the second-floor, it is right above the bar, and see a slim man with blondish hair sitting in a chair, talking to a black head boy standing next to him. I see the guy from the bar walking to him leaving the glass on his table. 

What were the odds of... 

I laugh to myself for the stupid idea that came into my head...yeah surely, he put some type of drug in his glass. 

“What are you looking at so intensely?” A wild Jungwoo asks popping out of nowhere, he blocks my view and follows my gaze, we were both looking at the blonde man “Oh, I see you” he slightly pushes me with his shoulder, I laugh and shake my head. “I think I zoned out” I lie and he smirks. Jihyo appears behind him and greets me with a hug. 

We all walk to sit in the booth and start a conversation to know how we’ve been, but then again, I look up, just to recheck I’m not sure what. He still hasn’t touched the glass.  

“Are you okay?” Jihyo asks in a whisper “Why the question?” I turn to look at her “You are foot tapping me” she looks down to our feet and I realize just then that I was stomping on her shoes “Shit, sorry” I apologize and she laughs “What’s wrong?” She asks again and I shrug my shoulders “I think I need to go to the restroom” I try to sound casual. They all nod and I go off. I walk slowly and look to the direction of the restroom and then the stairs, which were both on opposite sides of the place. I close my eyes for a few seconds. “If it were happening to you, you’ll like to know even if it’s a false alarm” I whisper to myself. I take a deep breath and just pray for the best. 

As soon as my foot touches the first step, Lee Know’s hand is on top of mine on the handrails, “Sorry, it’s private area” he uses a firm tone but not as the one he used before, it was a little nicer. A cold wave ran through my body, I debate on telling him what I saw or just make a run and act fool. I fake a laugh “I was just curious, to, see from upstairs” I point to the celling and he seems sense something weird. 

I’m not going to risk him thinking I am in crazy for saying bullshit like ‘hey, that boss guy you mention, yeah, he might get drugged’. 

“You can’t go up” he repeats. “I’m sorry” I apologize for what I’m about to do. And I know he knows it was not a ‘sorry it won’t happen again’ sorry. I shake his hand off of mine and run to the top of the stairs. “Shit!” I hear him curse. When I get to the second-floor I see a tall boy right in front of the door frame, he looks surprise and confuses seeing me, he’s also blonde and I stare at him in panic. He opens his mouth to say something but I feel a hand grip my arm from behind, I turn to see an annoyed and out of breath Lee Know. I try to take a step further in the room but the blonde boy stands in front blocking me “Let's go back down” Lee Know suggests and tugs my arm. “I, just, the thing is I saw.” I look around the room to see if I can find the guy from the bar and when I do, I point at him “Him, he was down and the drink he put something in it” I try to explain. Lee Know and the other guy look at each other confused “Don’t make me kick you out” Lee says again using a low voice. “I’m being serious Lee Know” I look at him straight in the eyes. 

“Lee Know” the 3 of us look at the direction the voice was calling him. It was the slim blondish man that was sitting in the chair a while ago, now he’s standing with the drink in his hand. “DON´T, DRINK THAT” I try to walk to him and take the glass away but the blonde boy once again blocks my path with his body. We stare at each other for a few seconds trying decode our intentions, and I notice his freckle face. A small chuckle comes from the other blond man and I turn to look at him. 

He’s maybe an average height man but is definitely taller than me, he’s dress in a nice black suite. “Why shouldn’t I?” he questions and raises an eyebrow at me. I notice a slight accent. “I, I, when I was down at the bar, he put something in it” I feel really stupid stuttering but this situation has me going dumb. “Something like what?” He asks walking closer to me, there goes an accent again. “I didn’t see what, I just know I saw he put something” I answer, the same guy from the bar takes a step closer to the accent man “Boss, that’s not true, she’s lying” he defends himself. 

With that answer now I know my crazy thoughts were not crazy after all. 

“I know what I saw” I state looking at the guy, he looks at me so pissed, he starts walking at my direction and for an instant I thought he was going to punch me in the face, I back up scared but the man they kept calling ‘boss’ stops him by being a body shield between us. “You sure there doll?” he asks me but is looking at the drug dude. “Y-yes sir” I confirm. He smirks and nods. 

Was he really believing me? or was he just playing along thinking I was a crazy psycho? 

“She’s fucking lying” he repeats and that comment makes me angry “I am not a fucking liar” I really want to punch him in his stupid face now. I hear a laugh from behind me and I guess it’s coming Lee Know. The suited man turns his body to face me and smirks again. “What’s your name?” he asks, I suddenly became nervous again “Y/N” I answer; There’s something about his aura that made him intimidating. 

He raises the glass in the air and he sinks in his right index finger. I frown not understanding what’s he doing, but then I see how his white nail polish turns to black. 

Changing nail polish? Oh. It’s the one that changes in contact with drug. He didn’t need my help from the beginning... 

“Guess Y/N is not a fucking liar” he smiles to the guy that did try to drug him. “SPEARB” he calls out and a wide shoulder, brown hair man steps out of nowhere “Walk him to the office, we need to have a talk” he tells him and the SPEARB guy nods, he passes beside me and I follow them with my gaze. “Thank you there, love” the blonde boss guy puts a hand on my shoulder to draw my attention to him “It-it was nothing” I say not actually knowing what else to say “Lee Know, her bill, courtesy of the house” he informs and I notice then his scare on his right cheek. “W-what’s your name?” I dare ask “Ah, you can keep calling me sir, I liked how it sound” he says but I can distinguish a mockery in his tone. I slightly nod my head and hear Lee Know call my name to follow him back down. He lets go of my shoulder and with his head he points to Lee Knows direction “I guess now I owe you a favor, baby girl” he whispers with a smirk on his face, he walks pass me and walks the same way SPEARB and the other guy went. 

I stay in shock for a moment trying to process the tingling feeling he left me with...  

2

#bang chan #stray kids #stay #fy #imagine #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagine #skz bang chan #skz scenarios #bang chan x reader #my writting #kpop imagines #stray kids mafia au #mafia #mafia fanfic

[birrdies]

at the kitchen table (third life fic, 891 words)

Grian sits at grief’s kitchen table. It used to be his— theirs— but something far greater occupies it now. He can’t call it his, even though the birch is well worn with use. Beaten from dumping battered weapons and armor at the end of the day (before they started sleeping with it, before they forwent sleeping all together), far more than any shared meal. 

The table’s empty. The last of their slim pickings is buried outside in the sand with Scar’s body. Grian sits inside, protected from the howling wind and pretending like he can drown out the spectators. One more death, they insist. This isn’t over yet. 

Give me a second, he barks back. 

He’s never been one for outright cowardice. He knows there’s no avoiding this fate. He practically wrote it himself. But Scar taught him a thing or two on how to delay the inevitable. How to buy yourself time, how to become slippery and escape all things that are meant for you. Bitterly, Grian can’t help but wonder why he hadn’t done it for himself in the end. 

This is all Grian needs— a moment, a brief reprieve, a second to be untouchable— it’s all he asks for. Himself and the kitchen table, the empty chair across from him. Normalcy, or as close to it as he can reach.

Elbows propped on the sandy wood, Grian hides his face in his hands and chuckles. How ridiculous it is: a hollow kitchen standing around him, dusty and vacant and haunted. Grian never cooked anything in here. They never shared a meal at this table. It was always scraps over a fire, stale bread stuffed in their pockets, endless days in the blazing desert heat. Too scared to sit and eat properly. Too restless. 

Why even build a kitchen at all? Grian’s laughter possesses him now, broken and shrill and hollow without Scar here to cause it. He presses the heels of his palms against his eyes until his vision splotches and his head spins. How stupid could he have been? To build a kitchen, to hope to use it? 

He had wanted nothing more than to be free of the madman bound to him by nothing more than Grian’s misplaced guilt and a few meager promises. Weak strings, really. He could’ve left anytime he wanted. And Scar would have let him.

But he built a kitchen for them anyway. Before the loyalty set in like a fever. Before this was it: him and Scar and the vacant dunes.

Before Scar had made the choice for him. 

There was room for love here, Grian thinks as his laughter turns to tears— a more silent affair.

The spectators nag in the back of his mind, more a sickening chill crawling the length of his spine than any kind of coherent voice. Goosebumps pepper his skin, but he refuses to move. He sits like a sentinel over this empty kitchen, the bleeding heart of their home, with nothing but his own anger as a weapon. 

Anger can only do so much. Grian wipes his tears only to realize there’s still blood on his fingers, now smeared on his cheeks. Trembling fingers curl into fists. Grian studies the way they move, counting his shaking breaths and knowing they’ll be his last. 

He’s hurt. It won’t take much else to finish the job. A cut on the crest of his cheek bleeds sluggishly, stings in the gritty air, but there’s no point tending to it. The bruises around his middle ache terribly. 

Scar could’ve killed him. If he pushed a little further. Hit a little harder. If he wanted it enough. 

But, no. Scar went down with a smile. He got what he wanted and Grian got this. Grian’s never hated him more. 

Slowly Grian rises from his seat at the kitchen table. He runs his fingers over the sanded wood one last time before stepping back out beneath the desert sun. The hair on the back of his neck stands up. A chill swoops through him, nearly takes him off his feet. There are eyes on him, somewhere, but he’s never felt more alone. 

He steps over Scar and Pizza’s shared grave and treks through the cactus ring to get to the edge of the hill. The part where the drop is steep and the base is rocky. It’ll be quick. It’ll be painless— at least, infinitely more painless than everything else he’s felt at the mercy of the game, at the mercy of the desert, at the mercy of Scar. 

He’s the last man standing, but what exactly is it that he’s won? It’s hard to feel like a victor when all he feels is cruel and beaten. When his head is heavy with the crown of eager eyes and his legs shake with the burden of keeping the rest of him upright. When there’s nothing to stand over proudly except for unmarked graves and a lonely desert hill. 

It doesn’t feel like much of a victory at all. There was room for love here. There was room for a lot of things. But none of it matters in the end. Because Grian doesn’t want to be left to haunt a kitchen Scar never even stepped foot into.  It doesn’t matter, because Grian won. He takes a step over the edge.

#third life #third life fic #life series fic #desert duo #grian #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #desert duo fic #birdie writes #back at it with my BS

[comatose--overdose]

I really hate when people write Tim to be afraid of Jason. I mean, you do you, but I'm not gonna read it.

First of all, Jason was NOT trying to kill Tim, and honestly Tim knew that. Second of all, even if he had been, Tim does not care about that. At all. It's not something he bothers holding grudges for. Half the people he knows have tried to kill him at some point, NBD. Hazards of being a Bat. Tim also talked shit the entire time Jay was kicking his ass, he had no fear WHILE IT WAS HAPPENING. He certainly wouldn't be scared of him after.

Tim is fucked up. He's weird. The are very few things that would make him afraid. There are many things for which he would hold a grudge, but his attempted murder isn't one of them. Now, Jay takes his last fruit roll up? Oh Todd's gonna wish he never crawled out of his grave.

He's petty. He's an asshole. His moral code is more a list of suggestions Bruce left taped to the fridge.

But he definitely isn't afraid of Jason.

#jason's just his fucking annoying older brother whenever he even bothers to think about him #i don't even fucking like Tim but his /stans/ are doing him a disservice and ain't that fucking sad #tim drake #jason todd

[thenotsoholyspirit]

Holding (Pt 4/5)

Matt Murdock x reader (angst)

(Here for part 1, 2 , 3)

AU: Hey, I know it's been a while since I've posted on this series but writers block has been a real deal for me these past days. Although, I still have a lot of ideas and a whole other series to end so stay tuned 💙 (and yes that includes the Foggy fic :3)

Summary: A conversation in the roof may offer a change in the situation. After all, sometimes all you need is faith.

I've never been quite the best catholic. 

From making a fuss in my baptism, to refuse ever to marry, I was quite the shame in a family of faithful believers. 

“Sometimes you have to believe without seeing” 

I always hated that idea, blind faith. And yet in spite of everything I still accompanied my mother every Sunday to our city's chapel. Soon after I moved out, that routine was still ingrained in me, and despite not having a logical answer to it, I kept going to mass. 

That’s how I met him. The one that would soon become both my salvation and my perdition. The one I was risking it all for in spite of everything. 

“He can’t be that far, please he can’t be that far

As the day progresses, I feel a sense of desperation crawl on me, noticing how the streets get busier and I haven't yet found any clue to His whereabouts.

Not a sight of him close to his old apartment or even old hangout spots.

He had indeed erased every trace he could have left

As I feel the day progress, I sigh. Maybe these extreme circumstances also required extreme decisions. I decide to head down to the Presidential Hotel.

————-——

When I arrive, I immediately notice the multitude of police cars and security guards surrounding the building. It couldn’t be more obvious that someone important was brought to this place

Sneaking up, I try to see if there’s any entry, but it’s obviously closed up to the public.

“Well I may need to broaden my definition of entry then”

As my attention catches  some fire escape stairs attached to a building not far behind, I can’t help but let out a small grin. After spending so much time with him, knowing Matt’s way of thinking had become almost a second nature.

It was probably too early, as I will surely need to wait for him hidden on some rooftop, but to simply think about the vertigo was enough to make my stomach turn.

“C'mon (y/n) remember just have faith.”

I start then to awkwardly climb up the ladder making sure not to startle the whole neighbourhood.

For a moment, I feel comfortable, pacing my steps and taking deep breaths, until I hear the crackling sound of a metal piece falling from the wall.

I gulp

“For God sake I'm a vet not a gymnast”

Yet the top doesn’t seem too far now and the idea of returning was worse. I decide to keep climbing.

Suddenly, I lose my equilibrium, feeling the void as I fall from my back until I feel the grip of a hand on my arm, saving me from a surely fatal fall.

“(Y/n) ?”

I look up, noticing a man dressed completely in black with only a beanie covering his face, and some cords attached to his wrists. He seems genuinely surprised to find me here. 

“Matt”

“I…” I’m short of words as he pulls me into the safety of the rooftop. I fall down the floor deeply breathing, “How did you know I was here”

“Well.. He tries to give me a small smile ,  “You were lucky I could basically hear your heartbeat explode streets away” 

“.. I must sound like a cacophony in your ears… but I’m sure there are also thousands of New-Yorkers being deeply worried at this very moment”

“ I guess.. I just became good picking up yours in particular”

I cannot help but to slightly blush as he tells me this. There is a tense silence now between us, too many things that should be said or should’ve.

“Don’t go” 

My tone is grave, letting him know I know his reasons for coming down here.  He slightly clenches his teeth, as I feel an anger I haven’t seen yet in him.

Something had happened.

Something felt broken

“I need to do it (y/n)” 

His tone was direct. Cold. He turns his back from me towards the Hotel. I imagine him trying to analyze the best way to get in, reading into each heartbeat , each voice, each movement…. But I wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“You aren't saving anyone by doing this..please..” 

Matt immediately snaps, turning again towards me. I was still on the floor and the bare light coming from the light poles made him appear even more intimidating.

“You don’t understand”…

“True… it’s true I don’t, I’m not you… “, I sigh, accepting it, “I’ll never fully understand this vigilante double life you live.. but I do see the man behind it”

I now stand up, letting us face to face as I continue to talk.

“I and see him and care enough about him that I’m not letting him commit a mistake he’ll forever regret” 

I see Matt keep his facade, but I notice the way his hands now slightly tremble holding his billy club. When he talks again, his voice is weaker.

“He has hurt so many people… and I’'m not meant to simply go and enjoy this life after all that has happened”, He takes his beanie off as I now see  his eyes “After hurting so many others... me.”´

I shake my head. I couldn’t lie, or deny the hurt of past decisions, but it didn't mean I could simply let him go.

“I'm not denying that it’s not easy but.. I’m here tonight for a reason… “ 

I look up to him, hoping he could sense the sincerity of my words

“I can’t let you do this.. this city needs its hero.. and well.. I do still need you”

I let these last words settle as I’m now a bit shy. I see Matt is about to reply, when we’re suddenly interrupted by some police sirens demanding civilians to clear up the space. His face drops.

“He can't be here already….”

I’m now a bit confused.

“Who ?”

Matt sighs, he seems tired but tries to explain to me the best he can. 

“I’m not the only one in this city holding a grudge against Fisk..” Matt leans again his attention towards the building “ There is a dangerous man looking for him” 

I notice the way his body tenses up, the same way it has always done when he senses a danger nearby. His grip becomes stronger, his face almost scarily stern, yet the voice he uses to catch my attention seems softer than usual.

“That night I.. I was sure I had lost you forever.. and who could blame you..” He gives me a sad smile, trying his best to hold his emotions. “I had to live with the fact that I had hurt you.. forced you to pull away from me..this loneliness.. it was my crux to bear”

I shake my head at his words, trying to be as direct as I could knowing time was running out.

“Matthew… I love you.. I still do..” I slowly approach him , caressing his cheek with my hand as I clean away some tears  “I just need to be sure you do as well” 

Almost as a reflex, I go grab his arm, feeling my own insecurities resurface as the fear of being abandoned twists my heart. He seems to pick up on this as he pulls me closer. I can feel the breeze on his words.

“ I swear.. “ Me murmurs against my ear, his voice now taking a more protective tone “That I’ll never let go of you again… “

I’m now the one letting my own tears stream down my face 

“You promise ?” 

My voice was so small, barely a whisper , as I use the tone I knew only Matt could ever hear

“I won’t stop even if you never forgive me”

I can’t retain myself any longer.

I dive in, pulling him into the deepest of kisses as I feel my whole body give in. The desire that has already been pleading for him could not no longer keep on waiting. 

Matt seems slightly surprised at the beginning, almost nervous at my reaction, but once he notices my unwillingness to let him go, he puts his hands around my waist our foreheads now touching. I need to hang on to him. 

“I’ve missed it so much” , he murmurs for just a moment, forgetting the world around us. I give him a little smile, slightly curious at his choice of words as he continues, “ I mean the feeling of you… your heartbeat, your smell…you've always been my safest place…I thought I’d never get to sense you from so close again” 

As I’m about to respond, the noise of police sirens shakes us up as we hear  the sound of gunshots down the building. Of course, Matt has more insight as he clenches his teeth and steps back.

“Go,” I look at him with a knowing look “I know you have a job to do”

I come a bit closer for a moment.

“Just promise me you will come back home tonight” 

I keep holding his hand for a second, sensing his flow of thoughts coming against him. He mutters again. 

“All this anger..”

“I know.. but you don't have to be alone anymore Matt” I take deep breaths as I try to send him some peace too, “I’ll be here”

He walks to the edge of the ceiling, pulling his mask back on. I give him a last reassuring look.

“I’ll leave the living room window open.. in case you come in late” , my tone is slightly hesitant “Of course if you want to come by I-“

I notice the corners of his lips curl into a little smirk.

“I will… and don’t worry”, he slightly tosses his head as he smiles, letting me admire his toned collar bone for even just a second., … “I promise I won’t take too long sweetheart” 

Before I can even protest his cocky words, he jumps off the next building, leaving me alone again, but now completely blushing. I may have also missed that pet name and his way of flirting.   

Some things really don't change after all.

#daredevil x reader #matt murdock x reader #marvel x reader #daredevil x reader angst #matt murdock x reader angst

[star-girl69]

Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of guns, injury, brief violence, mentions of death, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Nineteen- After

—-

“Don’t you dare touch her!”

Grace’s voice is the first you hear, and the first thing you feel is the stale air of the base. The second thing you feel is hands. Not like hers, not even like his, unknown and wrong and the sensation almost makes you sick.

“Put her down!” Grace shrieks again, and you cannot even move. You let them pull you up and drag you, stand you on two unsteady feet that don’t feel like yours.

You suffered years without Neytiri, but you heart learned to grow around the empty space of her, until you had her back again and you were overflowing with her.

Now, it feels like your heart is exploding in your chest, like you’ve been hit with shrapnel, blown apart by the fire that still causes Hometree to burn.

You’re kept ablaze, and it’s the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced.

You want to go back to how it was before, to that one night where you mated, where everything was happy and okay and you were safe.

“You… murderer!” Grace spits, her voice cutting through the physicality the air has taken on. Like the air is filled with the bodies of the dead, and you’re wading through it, but the temptation to sink under is almost too much.

You lost Jake, and now you lost Neytiri.

What is left for you anymore?

You know nothing but the ache in your chest, and if you close your eyes hard enough, it’s like she’s what you’re sinking into.

—-

“I was trying to protect you. You know that, right? You can be as mad as you want. You can hate me for the rest of your life, but- I did it for you.”

The cell has been silent for some time, like the marks of the graves in the soil are also on your skin.

Jake sits in the middle, hunched over in his wheelchair, Norm is sprawled out on the bench next to you, and Grace has her knees pressed to her chest next to you.

It was silent, before she spoke, and it let your mind run wild, let you imagine another reality where this never happened- and the three of you were happy.

You look up at Grace, but you eyes stop on him.

Maybe, if this was before, he would be sitting next to you, and you could press your ear against his chest and hear his heartbeat and everything would be alright for just that moment.

But it’s not, so your eyes continue to Grace.

She’s no longer tucked into herself, now her feet rest on the floor, legs spread as she digs her elbows into the top of her thighs. She stares at you, mouth parted like she might speak again, and if you squint her eyes are a little shiny.

“Protect me from what?” you hiss, bitter and miserable and yearning for something you will never know again. “You knew, Grace. You knew I was falling in love with him and you knew what he did.”

Jake doesn’t even look up. Is he even listening? You almost want him to, you want him to know how much you loved him and how much he hurt you. You feel it all like a thousand stars, and you want him to feel it too.

Your skin is raw with the memory of his touch, of hers.

“I wanted to be wrong,” she bites back. “I wanted to believe that you could be happy, that you wouldn’t end up like- like me.”

Josephine, the air seems to sing.

You remember just earlier, when she tried to explain herself but you wanted to know betrayal, and she told you that you were so much like your mother. The memory stings now, but maybe she was right.

Here you are, the last woman standing, with nothing but memories to feed you. You know all that you have lost and you know you will never feel it again.

“I didn’t want you to feel pain like that.”

You had been staring hard at her face, like you could burst her into flames, but when her eyes meet yours it feels so much like before you have to look away.

“Like what?” you ask, looking down at the floor like she will crawl out of it. Like the before will.

You can imagine her smiling softly, how she always smiles when she talks about your parents. “Like loss,” she says, and this is the after.

—-

The sound of the door sliding open is faint, but the four of you hear it anyways, and perk up immediately. Neither of you know who this means.

“What going on, brother?” Trudy greets, and you immediately know something will happen. “Long time no see.”

“Hey,” the guard greets, and she walks forward, pushing a cart in her hands.

“Personally, I don’t feel these tree-hugging traitors deserve steak,” she smiles.

“They get steak?” he asks, and Trudy chuckles as he leans down, hand out to open the compartments of the plain gray cart. “That’s bullshit. Let me see that.”

Then, faster than you can even see, she pulls out her gun and presses it against the side of his head.

“Yeah. You know what that is. Down,” she hisses, and with a gun to his head, the man follows.

“Trudy!” Norm gasps, standing with Grace and running for the door. You hesitate. It’s almost too good to be true. Some part of you feels like you’ve had too much luck in this lifetime, that you shouldn’t push it.

“All the way down,” she guides, and you watch as the guard is forced flat onto the floor. Then, she raises the hand with the gun and brings it down hard on the back of his head. He jumps, before going still.

You gasp and stand, but Trudy only pockets the gun and shouts Max’s name.

He comes running through the open corridor, around the abandoned cart, pressing a key chain to the lock on your holding cell.

You take one quick look around the cell. Boring and grey, with two black benches on the opposite walls, this is no place to live a life. However briefly, this place is nothing like the forest, like Pandora.

Besides, even the smallest chance of seeing her again is worth anything.

—-

The next thing you know, you’re running through the underground halls of Hell’s Gate. This place, the fake place, feels nothing like where you were raised.

You’ve never been down here before, never been so deep and dark underground. You feel almost claustrophobic.

The wheels of Jake’s chair spur against the rough floor, but he pushes through it, and you find yourself trailing behind him. Grace runs next to you, and you can’t look at her, can’t think too much about what’s happened.

“Trudy, fire up the ship!” Jake calls, before sparing a look over his shoulder to urge Norm to go with her. “Go!”

They run forward, going a different path, while you follow Jake out of this underground mess. You listen to the sound of the wheels, footsteps against metal.

Grace runs past him, and you let out a soft pant as she opens the door, following her quick. Jake and Max stop at the door, and you look at them out of the corner of your eye as you fix your mask on.

Jake puts a hand on his shoulder. “Max, stay here. I need someone on the inside I can trust.”

The more time you spend with Jake Sully, the more he confuses you. Sometimes he has a plan down to the last detail, and other times he is running into action.

You still don’t really know if the night you mated was a spur of the moment decision, or he has been wanting to say that, even planning to. You almost want to ask him. But you don’t. You can’t, not after what he did.

“Okay,” Max agrees, looking around. “Go.”

You watch as Grace hands Jake a mask, and he puts it over his face. You can still see the bruise where Quaritch punched him.

You remember how his eyes darkened when you called for him, when he saw you restrained by that faceless soldier. You want it to be like that again, you want to feel him again, but he betrayed you and you can’t.

His eyes meet yours, and for once, you don’t look away. He stares at you like he sees your pain, like he wants to hold your pain and your happiness and take the bad away and kiss the good. He stares at you like he loves you. And maybe he does, but that doesn’t change the fact that he betrayed you and The People.

“C’mon,” he mutters, hand on his wheels again, and his eyes tear away from yours.

This is the after, and it burns like you have never known. It burns wrong. This is the after.

—-

taglist:

@eywas-heir @kitkat1690 @tiajk @reallysparklychaos @behindthearcane @neteyamforlife @aeslenya @ghoulbli @luvvsnae @personapersonally @bubble-blu @ameriesworld @itsyoboysparkel @ok-boke @arschbohrer @ambria @ssc7514 @w3ird11 @vane28282 @littlexscarletxwitch @erenjaegerwifee @myheartfollower @simp-erformarvelwomen @maevirago @n7cje @aerangi @minkyungseokie @disaster-in-waiting @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @hot15936 @noname2246 @fanboyluvr @ara-a-bird @fussel9913 @iwaslikeblah @hai-kbai @rosymccheese @itszzmoon @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lovekeeho @ducks118 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @milf-lover-23

everything taglist:

@monsterwasstolen @fanboyluvr @artologia-blog1 @tulipatheticee @elvyshiarieko @fluffisalliwant @fluffi19 @jeizllz @myheartfollower @fy-fy-world @minkyungseokie @ivy-plays @blueberryfailureclinic @cryingwhilereading @thatratprincessforever

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

[dual-fantasy]

i also think chester is just. an untapped comedy market. if people even remember he exists they never talk about him. hes literally the funniest one and i stand by that. he fucking hates cameron back in his day they'd eat pure unfiltered radiation. cameron had a sip of diet coke and he was hospitalized. back in his day if you were thirsty you'd go to the swamp and suck the water out of the mud. cameron almost died cause he stepped in dirt. they hate each other(in a way. camerons scared of him. he wants cameron dead)

vito and svetlana try to be friends with cameron but any time they hang out he gets violently hurt. any amount of physical activity and he needs to be put on life support. the same goes for manitoba. hes trying to be friends with cameron but hes allergic to dirt and running. i think mal and cameron would actually be friends. in a special way. cam has to cover his ears and eyes whenever mal opens up twitter but other then that they tolerate each other. cameron got near a Scike Fight and was found barely breathing in a ditch 50 miles away. hes accident prone in a way thats literally impossible. he needs to be put back in the bubble. he was contained in there for a reason. putting cameron near any of the mutant maggots is like throwing a squeaky toy into a crowded dog park. he barely survives every social gathering. Grave Dog

so real people who don't write chester are cowards. it's peak comedy. back in his day there wasn't this fancy pronounce or anything there was only one gender and it belonged to the queen. Cameron gets into a car crash and he's like back in my day there wasn't cars or bikes you had to get onto all fours and crawl. they literally despise eachother so much. he looks at Cameron and starts shaking with rage and Cameron looks at him and starts shaking with fear. peak dynamic

Vito and Svetlana try to be nice. they try. they don't succeed but they do try. Svetlana tries the hardest but she also doesn't really care. she just doesn't like doing first aid because she finds it annoying. Vito and Manitoba dont want Cameron to get hurt but they have literally no idea how to do things without it being dangerous. Vito takes him to a repair shop and he gets flung into the wall and leaves a perfect outline of his body as he breaks it because he got hit by an opening car door. Manitoba asks him to go on a quick walk and ten hours later they just arrived at the beach and Cameron collapsed literally ten seconds in. Manitoba carried him the rest of the way there. mal is friends but in the way that someone on Roblox is mean to him and mal immediately doxxed and sends death threats to their family. Cameron has to remain completely unaware of this otherwise he'll get upset and his heart will explode.

Jo raised her voice at him one and he shriveled like paper in water. he accidentally trips into the scike fight and the next time they see him he's on the news for the most injury they've ever seen on a living human. just in general. maybe the bubble was good for him. now that he knows how to talk to people hes normal so maybe we can stop letting lightning accidentally crush every bone ever when he says hi. squeaky toy is right. please get him out of there it's so bad for him. they keep inviting him because it's funny but it's very bad for him

#total drama #td #td roti #td revenge of the island #revenge of the island #total drama roti #td mal #td svetlana #td chester #td vito #td cameron #🪦🐕

[phorolytte]

Lily Flower

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39120108/chapters/97866888

Relationships: Platonic, Pure Vanilla & the Cookies of Darkness

Summary: Seeking the fleeting shadows of his old friend, Pure Vanilla joins the cookies of darkness. Unknown to him, they are a group of ragtag outcasts and damaged people, held together by mirrors and faded strings. His presence just happened to be the tipping point.

Everything begins to fall apart.

Excerpt (what you’ll be getting into):

This is the truth I had sought all along. The secret to life. 

The little girl dissolved in front of her eyes. She had been reaching out to White Lily as if the mage could save her.

On the shelf, a forgotten staff wilted. 

How utterly meaningless! 

White Lily had not felt the initial burn. She had been in shock, but it was only a second delay. The liquid seared against her skin, and she screamed, but more liquid entered her throat. She snapped her mouth shut, but resisting made no difference. Melting was inevitable. She watched as her legs boiled and crumbled into the mixture. Her vision seemed to flatten as part of her head joined the melting pot of the dead. 

But… 

What a pointless existence. She spent all her life learning the secrets of magic, but had yet to apply them. Her curiosity led to dissolve in the bottom of a witch’s cauldron. She will die alone, her life cut short. There was still so much in the world she wanted to do, so much to experience. She wanted to try one of Golden Cheese’s infamous baskets, lose in Hollyberry’s drinking competitions, join the Make Dark Cacao Laugh group. She wished to see Pure Vanilla again, his angelic smile and hidden mischievous streak. If only he were here with her. 

I want to live… 

The liquid tasted sweet. 

A monster rose from the primordial soup, far larger than any singular cookie. She was the amalgamation of all the lives tossed into the cauldron, warped half-living cookies consumed by a singular consciousness. 

The Dark Enchantress clawed her way out of the boiling liquid amidst gasps and cries. Witches screamed and fled as they were lifted off their feet by powerful magic, spells woven together from a lifetime of research. A dead staff flew into the monster’s grasp, useful beyond the grave. 

These are my gods? She sneered at the heaving, ugly creatures, as they screeched in an incomprehensible language. No, I don’t accept that. 

Plants broke through the ground, ensnaring witches and plunging roots through them, new life growing where they wasted space. Light and dark magic flooded the space, twisting in tandem, the cumulative reactions they caused with each other far stronger than they would be alone. Witches wailed as their bodies were replaced with sugar. Unable to sustain flesh and blood, the sugar crumbled and the witches crumbled with them. Cold, efficient magic stopped hearts and burst blood vessels. 

She threw her hand into the air. Normally, large crystals were catalysts for opening rifts in the world, but the dark enchantress was powerful to the point where tools did not matter. Magic crystallized at her will, dense enough to substitute. She waved and the crystals burst, opening doors to new possibilities. 

Creatures stuck within the burning fires of the ovens came through the rifts, ready to do her bidding. Cake monsters and summons crawled out of the depths of hell as she cackled. She flew above them, freer than she had ever been. 

The Dark Enchantress hated the truth. She hated the fact that she was born to be eaten, to die. She refused to accept her fate; this time, she will create her own truth and the world must bend to accommodate. 

Guilt no longer chained her down, starlight no longer haunted her every move. White Lily had finally given up, fading along with the scores of others in that cauldron. What monster took her place feared not the darkness, the forbidden nature of magic. What could compare to the horrible reality she had seen? 

The Dark Enchantress was worse than the fallen heroine’s nightmares. She embraced the darkness, for she was darkness itself. 

“Come, my monsters, my dear abominations!” she cried, pointing her dead staff at the fleeing creatures. “Tonight, we have a witch hunt!” 

And the shadows danced, no longer smothered by light.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cookie run fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #pure vanilla cookie #dark choco cookie #pomegrante cookie #dark enchantress cookie #licorice cookie #strawberry crepe cookie #cookie run fanfiction

[tiredgoodomensfan]

GOS2 opening title analysis

spoilers ig?? idk

AAAAA S2 CONTENT YIPEEE

so, again, this is gonna be long, rambling, and will prolly make 0 sense so stick with me here I'm feeling a lot of feelings. im gonna go thru each thing in as much depth as possible so buckle up, this is gonna be like twice the size of my poster + hillywood dissection.

OK THE WAY CROWLEY LITERALLY CRAWLED UP FROM HELL TO MEET W AZ IS LIKE :((( and like on their way out from the tunnel thing I saw like a figure with wings?? I reckon it might be Micheal (the angel not the sheen) but I'm not 100% sure. whoever it is, they're holding a box or smth?? so do with that what you will idk

Im pretty convinced we might be getting Moses stuff, cuz the shining light at the top of the hill? seems like mt siani (sianai? idk) and the fact we haven't seen that type of light before and Moses is supposesdly the only person to have a direct face-to-face interaction with god makes me think we'll be getting stuff from that era (catholic upbringing coming in handy for knowing this stuff) ALTHOUGH, there are lots of animals, and they seem to be like in pairs as well?? so maybe more Noah and the arc? which like MAYBE ALL THE FANFICS ABT THEM COMFORATING EACH OTHER ON THE ARC WILL COME TRUE??? YIPEE!!

ok everything bursting into flames is a lil random but after a while of thinking, maybe sodom and gamora? (idk how to spell that either) which like, MORE SANDALPHON?? Don't get me wrong, hate the guy, he's awful and creepy, but he's SUCH a good villain. the actor doesn't get enough props online for how well he plays him. sandalphon had like 3, maybe 4 mins of screen time in s1? and from that, he's become one of the most HATED characters in the entire fandom. That is just like, wow, well done, I hate the character you play, but that's because your acting is amazing. ANYWAYS, sodom and gamora. aziraphales gonna be having some *feelings* about that, because why would heaven hurt all those people? even if they were sinners? similar to noahs arc situation with Crowley giving the most comfort this time <3

WOOOO GOTHIC SHIT!! the pickled herring cart makes a return and it is as confusing as ever. they're in a graveyard, so that's fun times. maybe more hell? cuz that's where they met up when the antichrist got delivered. anyways, does anyone know the period this is meant to be in? it's gone out of my head. anyways, I tried looking up pickled herring carts to see if they had any significance thru history but na. like they were there, and popular, but no, no huge significance. ALSO, in the graveyard, they go past a gravestone with 'every day' written on it??? girl wtf does that mean?? the running theories I have so far are that it's either like, the death of the everyday, meaning that what they used to do (hate each other??) isnt.. happening anymore?? idk?? or that it's just Neil being edgy and emo. my bets on the latter (love u mr. gaiman <3) ALSO ALSO OH MY FUCKING GOD?? Another one of the gravestones says JANE AUSTEN ON IT!! ARE WE GETTING JANE AUSTEN CONTENT??? OMFG??? YIPPEE!! maybe we'll get to see where az gets some of his first editions from :D aslo rq, religious imagery in the background, an angel carrying a cross, more heaven looming over Az?? ALSO HOLY SHIT?? I just accidentally paused it at onde of the graves and i swear it says 'here lies *insert another couple words here* BEELZEBUB?? HUHHH?? is that gonna be the explination for beelzebubs new corparation?? but that wouldnt make any sense?? idk atp but that gravestone DEFFIENTLY SAYS BEELZEBUB

(if you think this is long pls know we're 22 seconds into a 1:44 video, i want lying when I said this was gonna be BEEFY)

SO. HELL. WOOO!! more hell content which could go one of three ways. either we get more goofy Crowley giving more presentations, CAN I GET A WAHOO?? or we get him being given more assignments and we get more of an idea of the whole structure of hell, uncomfortableness but nothing horrendous. OR ALL THE ANGST FICS COME TRUE AND WE SEE CROLWEY GETTING BEAT INTO A PULP BY HIS SUPERIORS!!! maybe all three! can't wait to see :D but as much as my angst-craving self would love to see the last one, I think the reality is it's gonna be the first two. it looks like there's a desk and office chairs, so we'll probably be getting scenes that are like the equivalent to what we see of aziraphale and the archangels in s1

so we already knew we were getting more ww2 scenes but.. MORE WW2 SCENES WAHOO!! maybe we're getting post-church scenes? tender love confessions in the back of the Bentley? or maybe angst? maybe edosian orchids 901s (I LOVE THEM SM) fic about Crowley having a breakdown after being forced to report on the horrors of war will come true? or maybe one of them has to conscript cuz... idk dude just cuz. The bomber plane makes me think of the blitz so maybe Crowley is comforting Azi while they hide from the bombs in the shop? whatever happens, ill love it :D

a quick google told me fuck all about the ladies of camelot, just that theyre often overshadowed by the guys. WHICH LIKE WTF?? anyways, apparently its like king arthur times, so maybe we see the arrangement being born?? YIPEE. other then that, they seem to be like a dance group? so like, idk? could be suppourting acts maybe? could the merlin fandom help with this maybe? whats goin on with the ladies of Camelot my dudes.

MAGIC AZIRAPHLE MAGIC AZIRPAHLE MAIGIC AHVDSAKJ YAY!! I love the idea of aziraphale pulling a snake from his hat as part of the act and Crowley pretending to be pissed but internally freaking the fuck out because 'HOLY SHIT HES HOLDING ME HES HOLDING ME HES SO SOFT WHAT THE FUCK'

I HAVE. SO MANY. THOUGHTS. ON. SPACE. SO, SO HEAR ME OUT RIGHT, SO, the only time space has been mentioned really is when Crowley was talking abt how he made certain planets and the Alpha Centauri stuff. SO MAYBE WE'LL BE GETTING SOME PRE-FALL CROWLEY?? cuz like, the only thing close to space is heaven, but that's meant to be transcendent, and by definition exists outside of space and time. SO THEREFORE, PRE-FALL CROWLEY?? PLEASE?? NEIL IM BEGGING, IM ON MY KNEES, PLEASE!!

the... the hearts.. the love hearts.. the.. the hearts falling from the sky when they.. when the.. when... DNCBKHFVYEWIQUKLDWHJNX I'm feeling such normal feelings rn haha. anyways they're in love and :D the way they're sat on the roof together as well? like aw :( the jukebox and the vinyls (are those vinyls?) make me think more 60's content? and the Bentley as well? friendly reminder that Crowley goes too fast for him!! maybe we'll see him drinking himself into oblivion after he gets brutally rejected by Az :D oo or maybe him contemplating offing himself with the holy water! or maybe more lighthearted stuff, like the discovery of the queen curse :)

(also OO ninas shop!)

the lifts make me think more heaven content, which we knew was happening anyway but I'm thinking more Az giving reports and getting verbally abused and humiliated :D also, the steam makes me think industrial revolution for some reason? idk tho

THE ARRIVAL. is that the title for ep 1? Probably. but on the posters there's like a locked box? (getting fnaf 4 flashbacks) i've no clue what that means, like at all. but its prolly smth!

and thats it! this will probably be updated and edited, but these are all my thoughts as of the day it was released.

if you read this, there must be smth wrong with you mentally, but me too, me too. give me any thoughts you might have, ill be really interested to hear them! (these guys have consumed my brain)

friendly reminder that it'll be quiet, gentle, and romantic. and they like holding hands!

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable hubands #aziraphale #crowley #david tennant #micheal sheen #im going insane #haha im a bit obsessed

[red-riding-wood]

OC: Charlotte Griffin

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Summary: Charlotte Griffin, on a quest to emerge from her family's dark shadow, becomes a spy in a gang war that puts her loyalties and desires into question as she grows closer to the man who is meant to be her enemy.

WARNINGS for whole story: eventual explicit sexual content and references, explicit violence and gore, mentions of physical abuse, language, ethnic slurs (mainly because of Alfie)

A.N. Been sitting on this chapter for a while because I honestly hated the second scene but I think I've finally come to peace with it!

Blood painted the shattered windows of the old greenhouse and soaked deep into the mosses and weeds that sprouted from the remnants of the floor. Though the bodies had been taken away by police the night of the vicious occurrence, their viscera must have fed the greenery that grew in something that once only gave life, that never took.

Investigators roamed about, though Polly had granted us both access to the crime scene from her name and association with the Blinders. I still had yet to understand what exactly she had taken me here to see and why, but I could’ve gotten lost in examining the carnage.

The Blinders, I realised now, were violent out of necessity. People like Arthur, people like Thomas. I’d seen it in the grave look Thomas had worn ever since. He looked as if he’d come home from the war yesterday rather than a near decade ago.

Men like Arthur and Thomas, they fought like animals because they had to survive. Because it was in their blood. Etched into their hearts.

Luca, on the other hand, he claimed to only wish to settle a vendetta, but something darker brewed beneath his flesh. I could practically sense it. But he did not fight like an animal. He thought himself above them. Everything that had happened here was meticulously orchestrated, planned to the most finite detail.

There were no men I’d met like Luca.

“Have you gotten a nice, long look, yet?” Polly asked, rousing me from my thoughts. I found them drifting to the serpent-gazed man far too often than what was comfortable to admit. Even when faced with the calamity of his devilish mind and my reckless actions.

“I don’t know what I’m meant to be looking at, Miss Gray,” I told her. My arms had been clutching the buttons of my coat, trying to hold the fabric in place so that the cold wouldn’t consume me.

“You’re looking at Tommy’s doing. And yours.” Her dark gaze turned to me sharply, an iciness in its depths that pierced my heart.

“Arthur and Thomas lived,” I told her, unsure as to why she concerned herself with such morality all of a sudden. She didn’t strike me as the sort to lose sleep over a few fallen soldiers.

“For now,” she said, lighting a cigarette. “But their time will come.”

I turned to her now, my arms falling as the wind buffeted the side of my face.

“Why did you bring me here? To guilt me?” I cocked my head slightly, and said, “Or stop me?”

Dark optics settled on me as she blew a gout of smoke. It was carried away by the wind. “I have a son,” she said. “His name is Michael.”

“So I’ve heard. He was with John when he was shot.”

Though I tried not to think of the body I had seen in the casket that day, his name could not be avoided. I hadn’t even known him, yet his likeness to my brother was forever etched into my memory. My mind used to have a much harder time picturing what Alexander’s corpse would have looked like, before I’d stepped foot in Small Heath.

“He’s still in the hospital,” Polly said. “Bedridden. Utterly defenseless. I know that Changretta will come for him. Perhaps you will even lead him straight there.” Her brows cocked in a silent challenge.

My flesh crawled, and my gut clenched, though I didn’t entirely know why. I hadn’t defied a single order of Thomas’ or gone behind his back. I had proven my loyalty.

“Are you insinuating that I might be working with the enemy, Miss Gray?”

Polly shrugged, but trapped me in an intense stare. “I wasn’t, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen a spy show her dark side.”

This was not the woman who had invited me into her home and had given me advice on how to deal with Luca. This was a woman who was lashing out, like an animal, because she was scared. I could see it gleam in the dark pearls of her eyes.

“Miss Gray…” I took a step forward, invading her space as Luca often did to mine. “With all due respect, you have not seen my dark side."

As it seemed, not even I had properly glimpsed my dark side.

She regarded me from an unwavering gaze, cigarette held elegantly by one cocked wrist.

“I did not decide to work for the Devil himself so that I could play games,” I continued. “I came here because I have ambitions. And I do not wish to squander those ambitions by betraying the very man that can grant me what I seek.” I straightened, and said, “So, I repeat: why did you bring me here today?”                  

Polly took a long drag of her cigarette, and blew its smoke into the wind. Her gaze darted only briefly to the greenhouse before settling on me with that familiar crease of stress in her brow.

“Michael is my only child,” she told me. “I will not see him slaughtered like these men here today.” She blew another quick puff, and added, as her gaze darted away again, “Or John.

“And I want you to get something straight, Charlotte. You do not work for Thomas. You work for me. He may be the face of the Blinders, but I’m the only one with a lick of sense around here.

“So what I’m about to tell you is an order. Not a request. And if you tell Thomas, I’ll cut your tongue out myself. I’ve never liked spies. They talk too much.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, but listened.

“I want you to make a deal with Luca. Offer Thomas, for Michael’s life to be spared. I can set up the date and the time. You only have to do what you spies do best. Talk.”

I eyed her with an increasing wariness now. A betrayal, from his very own aunt? I wasn’t sure if I could be surprised, after he had left her to hang in prison. And I couldn’t be surprised, I suppose, for her to value the life of her sole son over her nephew’s.

But she was mad if she thought I would turn against Thomas Shelby.

“If this is another test of character, Miss Gray, I can say that I have had quite enough of those,” I said, though I knew she was dead serious by the fear in that dark gaze of hers. And so I told her, “But this isn’t a test, is it? You wouldn’t have brought me here if it were.” I leaned in just a tad, just enough so that she knew she was not speaking to someone who would bow so easily. She did not frighten me in the way Luca did.

“You wanted to guilt me. Appeal to my humanity,” I said. “But when that doesn’t work for you, what then?”

Cigarette smoke blew in a puff, each tendril seeming to have a life of its own as it weaved through the air.

“The others don’t know that you set up the funeral ambush,” she said. “They wouldn’t be very happy if they found out.”

“And I can’t imagine they would be very happy finding out you chose to only spare Michael.”

“And just who do they think they’re going to believe?” Polly countered. “Like I said, I run this operation. I hold it together. I’m family.”

Something about her last words pierced my heart again, fractured it straight through to my soul.

Family.

Family, Luca had said, was the most important thing.

And it was the one thing I would not find here. Not with the Blinders. They thought me no more than a lowly spy.

But if this was all I would ever be to them, I was determined to do my job well. And I would not cave over petty blackmail.

“I will take my chances, Miss Gray,” I told her, before stepping away, the edges of my coat swishing against her legs as I made my departure.

Family, I thought the word again, nearly parting my lips to utter it. Ruminating on it. And I brought my fingers to brush the tail of my ribbon.

What was family, really, if you could not trust one another?

---

Polly Gray was not an easy woman to shadow.

She had left her house in the late evening and since then had been elusive, never taking a predictable route. On top of that, she was keen, and had her wits about her; her gaze swept across each corner of the street as if she owned the ground on which she walked, and those within her vicinity were only there by the grace of her good will.  I had needed to keep a ways back, and I wore black, indistinguishable clothing and my hair tied into a bun beneath the hat I wore that tipped downwards just enough to veil my gaze.

I was much more at ease when she entered the pub, when I was swallowed by the throng of bustling drunkards. They made much more commotion than I did, and I was able to blend seamlessly with the well-dressed ladies whom they courted.

What caused my state of alarm was the overwhelming amount of Italians that I quickly found myself surrounded by. Déjà vu hit me like a train as my eyes roved across the bar stools, searching for a black hat and a toothpick.

Polly sat at one of the stools, a mink fur wrapped elegantly around her shoulders and her earrings glinting in the glow of the chandeliers.

“Signorina.”

Startled by the word, I spun on my heel, my heart lifting in my chest as I recalled when a green eyed man had woven the same syllables with his silver tongue.

And though I knew that it wasn’t him, I couldn’t help but deflate when I glimpsed his chocolate gaze. Dressed in black, he was one of the Italian mobsters, and perhaps it was this that sparked the familiarity as I studied his clothing and his features.

“May I have a dance?” he asked me, extending a hand.

I eyed his hand cautiously, but with another glance cast to Polly, I decided to take him up on the offer. He brought me in close, but not as close as Luca, and his touch did not send shivers through me, nor did the heat of his breath flutter my heart.

And it was then that I realised I had never once compared a man to another, never wished for a stranger’s touch to be someone else’s so intimately. 

“What brings you to Birmingham?” he asked me, accent more lilted than the soothing New York tones of Luca’s. “This city, it does not suit you.”

“Is that so?” I said absently, only half-intrigued by the man’s statement. As we danced, I tried to sneak glances through the converging crowd, but he had led me into too many people.

“These streets are filthy,” he said. “Not like my hometown.”

“And your hometown would be better suited for me, would it?” I said, tipping my head back to look him in the eye.

He chuckled, and said, “A woman such as yourself, yes, I can picture you much better walking down the streets of…” His brow furrowed at me, eyes squinted, and his tonality changed on a dime. “You look familiar.”

My spine stiffened, and I downcast my gaze almost immediately. I had been too absorbed thinking of all the ways he wasn’t Luca that I hadn’t taken the time to uncover why I knew him.

He was one of Luca’s guards.

“Well, then I suppose I’m not all that special,” I purred out over his shoulder, so that he would not be able to glimpse my face.

As we turned, Polly’s earrings winked in the glow of the chandeliers. Next to the gold rings of slender fingers that placed a felt hat on the bar before her. Next to the inked black hand that poked from his sleeve.

“I must disagree, amore. Perhaps I know you from the silver screen. Let me take a look at your face.”

My heart could’ve stopped. From the man’s words, or from his boss’ arrival, I couldn’t tell.

“Maybe I prefer not to be recognised,” I told him. “There is an allure to mystery, is there not?”

We turned, and Luca and Polly disappeared from my gaze. I tried to speed up, tried to guide him into quicker, longer strides.

“Let me look at you,” he said, more pressingly, his finger prodding at my jaw.

Every instinct in me screamed to pull away, though I tugged him close, my lips grazing his neck as I brought him around to see Luca chuckling around a toothpick and Polly smiling as she wrapped her fur tighter around her shoulders.

My gut clenched with something wicked.                             

Suddenly, I hated her smile.

“Careful,” I whispered into the man’s ear as Luca and Polly disappeared from view. I dropped my voice into a purr again and said, “I have been known to bite.”

“All the more reason to have a look, then,” he murmured against my scalp, and my stomach knotted.

And yet, I cared more about coming around our next turn than I did convincing him otherwise.

Luca was close to Polly. Too close. His arm brushed hers as he reached for his drink. I couldn’t read either of their faces anymore, but I could only imagine her wearing that smile for him.

“Show me that pretty face,” the man said, his fingers cupping my chin once more.

“It’s not yours,” I snapped, jerking my head away in one quick motion. His thumb unhooked a blonde lock from my bun.

I could do nothing but stare into eyes that widened with recognition as he fully took in my face, and the world seemed to undulate in my peripheral and morph into lurid streaks of colour.

“I have to go,” I breathed, my stomach churning, and I shoved my way through the crowd as I left the Italian stunned.

Fresh air was both a welcomed luxury and a frigid curse as it filled my gasping lungs. I twisted and wove my way around the brick walls of the alleyways, the cars on the streets, never running but always casting a glance over my shoulder. I must’ve wound my way through an entire borough before I gauged that there was enough distance between me and the pub, and I slipped into the nearest telephone booth.

The transfer didn’t take long, but I still cast a wary gaze around as my heart began to calm and my breaths came more steady in my chest. The adrenaline was waning, leaving my shoulders and calves tense with ache.

“Matteo? Yes, hello, this is Charlotte. I would like to speak to Luca, please.”

“What is this regarding?” Matteo asked me over the line.

I rubbed my temples, nursing a burgeoning headache, and said, “I just need to speak with him. It’s urgent.”

“Luca is out on business.”

Business.

My stomach clenched again.

Was Polly making the same deal she tried to make with me?

Would Luca no longer have a use for me in this war?

Why had she been smiling?

“Charlotte?” Matteo spoke after what must’ve been a long silence, but for me, had been a frantic tide of cruel thoughts.

“Yes. Thank you. Tell him I need to speak with him as soon as possible.”

I hung up halfway through Matteo’s farewell, and I sank to the floor of the booth, the poorly constructed glass groaning against my weight and the metalwork biting into my spine. I dug a cigarette from my pocket and, with shaking fingers, held a lighter to the end.

I nudged open the door with my shoe for ventilation, and took a deep drag. I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining the notes of citrus and jasmine entwining with the smoke.

And when I opened them, I stared into my faint reflection in the glass, and the eyes that stared back at me were a pale, ice blue, and their frigidness warmed my aching heart, tugged at the bright of my soul.

And I watched, slowly, as they morphed to a green past the gout of smoke I blew, and a dark hat swept across the reflection’s forehead and the bright of citrus turned to the dark of ambrette.

And I stared into the reflection until the beating of my heart had finally lulled, and the smoke had swallowed the serpent gaze.

NEXT CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST / FULL MASTERLIST

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#luca changretta #luca changretta x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #my writing #alfie solomons #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #polly gray #arthur shelby #peaky blinders fanfic

[readerimagines]

Prideful (2/?)

She woke up when the fine thread of the tent she resided in allowed the thin ripples of the pale sunlight to hit her shut eyelids, producing a low, airy mumble as she stretched lazily and yawned, filling her lungs with the clean air that the location of the Legion Camp provided.

The Legion camp.

That's when the realization of where she still was hit her like a train right on her face as she sat up in an instant, immediately going for her bag. Her makeup bag in particular. Once she opened it, dread washed over her as her eyes fell on the emptiness of the container. Maybe it wasn't as genial as she thought hiding her smaller weapons and bullets in such a frivulous place would be, but the idea of someone actually sneaking in the tent she was so foolishly snoozing in, basically welcoming anyone who tried to do anything to her after all the troubles she caused to the cause of her hosts, made her slap a hand on her forehead. Mentally, to prevent any noise to come from the action. The idea of going out and dealing with the consequences of her little stunt was still too unpleasant for her drowsy self.

As much as she hated to admit it, sleeping on a decent bedroll after such a long time felt heavenly, without even speaking of the soft animal fur blanket the Legion made sure to provide for her as they set up her tent.

With a sigh, she rolled out of the makeshift bed and shivered at the contact of her warm skin with the air coming in from the closed tent's entrance. Still, giving up an occasion to wash herself with clean, not irradiated water was inexcusable, so she absolutely savoured it when one of those poor women left a bucket of warm water and a cloth right inside the tent a couple of minutes before.

Finally scrubbing and taking off all the sweat and grime accumulated during her journey to the Fort, Six mentally prepared for the worst as the absence of weight in her improvised weapon case still lingered in her stomach, choking her breath more with each passing second. Every clang of the straps of her leather armor being secured on her body sounded deafening in the silence of her improvised abode in which her mind kept repeating scenario after scenario in which she needed to find a way out to prevent the wrath of Caesar to unleash on her a barrage of punishments for disobeying his orders and bringing weapons in the camp. Six wasn't one for fights, no matter how harsh and unforgiving the wastes were, she was still a person who woke up with no memory inside of a nameless grave not even a month prior. Acting though and mean wouldn't have brought her anywhere good considering her position in a camp full of men who in average would have been able to crush her in a matter of little to no effort, so acting, at least for now, would have been her best bet. Until she got her weapons back and a clearer image of the state, layout and inner workings of that place.

Another sight left her gritted teeth and she swallowed the knot in her throat, only then crawling out of the tent.

The first thing her eyes got immediately greeted by was a woman being slapped so hard she barely could keep herself up on her feet, eyes meeting with the Courier's in a silent plea for stillness. "Don't" she mouted to Six, who shivered hard. So distracted by the scene she tried so hard to ignore to prevent worsening the condition for the poor stranger, the obstacle in front of her felt completely invisible. Not so much when she bumped on it with a gasp.

“Ah, sorr- Ah… It's you. “ She apologized initially, partially from genuine habit of being polite, partially because that place was starting to feel suffocatingly oppressive. She was no hero, if anything all she wanted to do right in that moment was leaving as soon as possible and find a way to free the slaves. When her eyes met instead with Vulpes', all of her gentle disposition was instantly vaporized, a scoff leaving her when he responded to her peevish attitude with one of his shit-eating fake smiles.

“Apologies accepted, now, will you allow us to humor you with a meal? We have some fresh milk and roasted brahmin. Oh, and caramelized fruit too. “

“What did she do to deserve that?“ Her voice nearly reduced to a whisper, instantly regretting outing her concern regarding the slaves in the camp right to the Legion's ruler's right hand. She bit her cheek.

“Don’t avoid my questions, Courier. She, before you insist with your petulance, was a Nipton survivor who tried to flee the Fort.“

“You know that Romans had an ounce of respect towards slaves at their time, right? “

“At the time, they worked hard to deserve such benevolence. Because I can also say that there have been records of slave/owner relationships, but not only it was rare, the slaves themselves revealed themself useful, contrary to these pitiful whores who come from the worst the Mojave has to offer. Nothing special, just a waste of time, even if some of the men married a couple out of their looks. Frivolous, but keeps providing the Legion with future men. Now, will you please follow me? Caesar has a favor to discuss with you, we can skip the breakfast if you desire to keep up the petulance.“

“Do you really think all of that? Stop it with the formalities then, I am a woman too. “

“Whose under Caesar’s protection.“ He specified, then turned around to fully glare at her with a stare that didn't allow any more denials. “I’m repeating myself, will you please follow me, now, Courier?“

She gulped, but a little smirk curved her lips. “Or what? I'm your "favourite Courier", how would Caesar react if you damaged his precious little tool of New Vegas' and the Dam's conquest?“ Still, she started following, not really planning on finding out what that psycho had in mind in case she didn't intend to attend his "glorious" Caesar's call.

He smiled back, weirdly amused. “I thought Nipton was a pretty clear example of what I'm capable of. You, however, would probably prove to be more interesting than those depraved morons. You try so hard to have a dignity it's almost convincing. Such a blessing for your kind. But enough talking, Caesar awaits.“

One thing she had to give to him was his ability to get on her nerves so badly her hands itched with desire. One of ripping his teeth out and wipe off that fastidious grin from his pale face, the mere idea consoling enough to satiate her for as long as an occasion to make her desire come true came around. Still, the way he spoke to her in such a manner made her feel… small. Ridiculous, even. Such condescension dripping out of each syllable he spewed in his long and slow rants about the beauty and radiance of the Legion or his ideals and morals. Ironic, she wasn’t the one wearing a Roman skirt with sunglasses and a dead dog on her head, but maybe his calm and collected composure was what actually got through her and made him look more than he really was. She sped up, gnawing on her cheek as they walked through the second gate of the Fort.

“How old are you? You seem pretty young for your position.“ She asked in a question that genuinely wanted an answer to by the first time they met. He looked too young to be such a cruel and ruthless resource for the Legion. Not that she thought young people weren't capable of atrocities, but he almost looked experience in such matter. Too cold, too calculating and damn precise, despite the scale of his operations.

“Why do you care to know? I speak Caesar’s word to you, age isn’t something that should change the importance of what I tell you, now.“ “I'm curious. I don’t believe in age proportioned respect, don't care about whatever weird hierarchy you're running here, so I don’t mean to undermine the scale of your… let's call them achievements. “ “That’s not something you should say in here, someone could really try to pass through me just to slit your throat while you sleep. “ “They can try. A bullet in the head wasn’t enough to stop me.” He allowed a small chuckle to fall from his thin lips. “Fair enough, but that Benny didn’t look exactly like an ace. Or any bright, to be completely blunt.“ “You don’t look that terrifying either, with a dog's head and all, but you had the guts to put an entire town on their knees. What can I say, appearances can be deceiving.“ The way she spoke her mind so freely in that moment almost fooled herself and her barriers she always kept up in such a harsh environment like the Mojave, but his way with words and approach surely was an asset. Suddenly, it wasn't so hard to understand how easily the mayor of Nipton trusted that guy, at least on a first sight. It wasn't that hard to see through all of it either, but politicians weren't exactly renowned for their smarts or critical thinking, so she simply cleared her throat, trying to recollect herself. “Snake tongue that you have today. What about a piece of bread to fill that empty stomach of yours? Will the wits go away?“ He asked again with that condescending tone that started to almost appear as mirth.

Six decided there and then that she didn’t stand him, but in a weird way. His mannerisms didn't suggest any violent tendency towards her despite the absence of any gentleness and the fact that his politeness did sound like a well crafted act and her curiosity towards his disposition only grew in a twisted game of pushing buttons and seeing what it took to actually manifest a dangerous reaction out of him. Maybe he was just great at self control and Caesar gave him such important role because of his calm and cold nerves of steel that guided his every calculation. Maybe he was just an asshole and Caesar too preoccupied with his grandeur tendencies to accept anyone less self assured and collected to take Vulpes' place.

"Caesar awaits." She repeated with a smug smile, before finally entering the main tent of the camp.

Caesar was sitting on his throne, like always probably, and she crossed her arms, looking at him and at Vulpes that reached his place next to him, rigorous as always.

“Have you thought about that chip? Know that once you get out this camp, you will not get it back unless you do what I asked.“ The older man spoke so differently than the man standing at his side, or any of those fanatics around them, she wondered if they even were part of the same group. “I… I need more time to understand what it does. Mr. House too is still alive, operating like this would probably be a danger for the whole plan… Trying to get past his defenses without debilitating security would mean losing the chip once he retrieves it back once I go down there… “ “Courier, I'll be honest with you. Don't mistake my patience for naiveté and see that you find a way to blow up the content of that bunker soon. Trying to stall on what will bring civilization to the Mojave is the worst blight you could do at this time. While I believe you still need to find a solution, I highly doubt you're completely blind to the whole ordeal. I give you a week. I expect you to finish before that.“

All things considered, she knew he was right. The decision was more about what was less worse than what was the best for the Mojave at that point. The NCR was corrupt, each and every citizen dissatisfied and kept miserable by the condition imposed by the higher ups who just ate away all that the working class produced in order to continue the ongoing war and expansion, while Caesar's Legion… it did keep roads safer and inhabitants disciplined, but through fear and a life absolutely devoid of any other meaning that wasn't a single cause, for a single man, while slaughtering and stepping on everything he didn't stand for, no matter how good and useful. While the prospect of working to live in a tin can and paying enormous taxes with so much bureaucracy it was impossible to do anything or get any form of justice wasn't so appealing, the Legion's idea of future was so grim she didn't have it in her to condemn anyone to that life. “I'll come up with something then. I'll get it done, Caesar.“

“Good. Now go. This fucking headache… “ He muttered silently as he got up from his throne and left sluggishly towards his room.

The Courier made her way out of the tend replaying the whole exchange in her head when she realized no one mentioned her hidden weapons. Maybe she hid them too well and now she couldn’t find them? Call it wishful thinking, but another look wouldn't have hurt, at least to make sure nothing else was missing. Each step contained all of her willpower to not just sprint and retrieve all of her stuff, but letting relief over something she wasn't sure about take control of her was like setting herself up for disappointment. That she still felt once after emptying her bag on the bedroll under her and finding that the weapons were still missing.

“Are you looking for these?“ She didn't need to turn around and see whose voice was that to roll her eyes. Did he need to follow her like a shadow? Hardly containing her annoyance and discomfort in being caught red handed, she finally allowed her gaze to linger on his presence, before dropping on his hands with a nervous exale full of a mix of panic and rage at the recognition of her gun and knife. Joshua's .45 to be precise, because of course she brought such a recognizable piece of work in a camp full of men who wanted him dead. “Give them back.“ “Didn't the guard confiscate everything? That's not good. Caesar is pretty serious about this. Everyone is, except you. And the guard, apparently, but I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and guess you possess hands fast enough to be able to evade our men's eyes.“ “How can I leave my weapons when all I see is a terrible treatment towards women and hear your men wanting to "try me out"? I don't think it's some unexpected event, me wanting to keep myself safe, now, is it?" Her voice wavered slightly, but she stood her ground. At that point, hiding the truth, was quite useless and probably counter productive. Plus. she hated lying. No matter how dangerous the situation, if they discovered any lie behind her word, at that moment, she would have been done for, together with her plan of saving the army she could have had for Vegas in the underground bunker of The Fort. “Guess you don’t trust me either? What a pity, and here I thought you were pretty comfortable chit chatting with me this morning.“ Vulpes laughed so slightly, his voice devoid of any finality or sincerity towards the words he himself pronounced and he threw her pistol on the mat with half box of bullets, keeping the rest and her dagger in his own sack before raising his chin, a serious expression on his sharp features scrutinizing her. “Use it with any unworthy reasoning and I will personally make sure you won’t leave this camp.“

Six looked at the pistol for any signs of tampering within or on the pistol, finding none. It was just there between her hands, perfectly fine. She looked up at him with very poorly concealed confusion before nodding and hiding her weapon in her beauty case, then back in her backpack. “I have to say, that placement would have fooled many. Although pretty predictable, I cannot deny it's slightly ingenuous, I'll give that to you, Courier. I hope tonight will serve your slumber well once you'll come back. Not that you seemed to have any problem, last one.“ With that subtle warning, he abandoned the tent, leaving behind a flustered courier that just smacked herself on the forhead for real now that she knew for sure he was the one behind all of that situation. And her stomach ache for the whole morning.

Now that she knew for sure he was keeping a close eye on her, sleeping wouldn't exactly come easily or sharing the same serenity the tiredness of the previous day bestowed upon her the night before. Although she still wondered, as she closed the tent, why did he leave her that pistol or why he didn't tell Caesar about it. All was promptly discarded as his way too big ego. That man knew no humility or whatsoever anyway, so it didn't come as a surprise he thought her skill with guns wasn't enough to best him or whoever she decided to fire upon. Backpack on her shoulders, she decided not to dwell on matters of the Legion any longer for the day and leave to complete more of her duties as a courier. After all, no matter how dire the situation was, everyone seemed short of one single man to do some kind of job and the caps in her pockets didn't really hurt.

#fallout new vegas #vulpes inculta #vulpes x female courier #fnv

[lizzy-pop]

Blasty Christmas Laughs

Summary: Kirishima noticed a certain Pomeranian was down in the dumps, in Christmas month!! He won’t let this stand, so he takes it upon himself to cheer up blasty!

Lee: Bakugou. Ler: Kirishima

Kirishima was hanging Christmas lights outside when he noticed Bakugou sitting on the porch listening to music. He was wearing black pajamas and a big, fluffy red winter jacket. Kirishima crawled down the ladder and sat next to him. “Whatcha listening to, blasty?” Kirishima asked, pulling out one of his earbuds. “None of your business, go back to your Christmas shit.” Bakugou commands as he snatches back the earbud. How could anybody be so grumpy at this time of year? It was terrible! “What’s up, dude? Nobody should be this upset during Christmas time!” He says this with a jab to Bakugou’s ribs.

Then, to Kirishima’s surprise, he flinches. Kirishima could’ve sworn he saw a smile for a second. “B-Back off, shitty hair!!” Bakugou shouts, scooting further away from Kiri. “Dude, there’s actually no fuckin’ way.” Bakugou hated how he could feel his cheeks heat up. “The big, blasty Bakugou? TICKLISH?!” He was invested, and Bakugou hated it. “SHUT YOUR BIG ASS MOUTH!! You don’t need to say it THAT loud!!” He scrambled to the side to make sure nobody heard. “Ohoh I’m so telling Mina.” Kiri teased “NO!!” Bakugo grabbed his arm, squeezing tight “Don’t.” “Okay, jeez!” He snickered, then pinned Bakugou down with his arms above his head. “Too bad you wore this big fluffy jacket, it’d be a lot easier without it” Bakugou began to panic, but- he had a little secret. He kinda sorta maybe liked being tickled, so that explains why he pulled his arm slightly out of the jacket so Kiri could get to his weak spot if he wanted to. He was subtle about this, making sure Kiri didn’t notice. “Don’t touch me, shitty hair!!” He tugged at his arms, not like he would try and run. “Don’t worry, I won’t murder you~” Kiri teased as he began spidering up and down Bakugou’s sides. “Fuhuck off!!” Bakugou barked, biting back a giggle. “Was that a lil’ giggle I heard? Hm?~” the teasing, it was awful. Teasing is the one thing Bakugou hated with a passion. “Shut the fuhuck uHUP—“ Kiri snorted at the reaction he got when he squeezed Bakugou’s hips. “SHIhihiHIT!!” He yelped, bucking his hips instinctively. “Tickle tickle, Blasty~” he jabbed as his ribs, earning a fucking 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐚𝐥 from Bakugou.

“AIEEEE!!! FAHAHAHACK, GEHET OFF, *ʜɪᴄ* SOhohOMe oHone will *sɴᴏʀᴛ* hehEHEHeaR!!“ his face almost matched his ticklers hair at this point. “aww, thats a good thing! You need to laugh more anyways!“ Then he felt it. He felt Kiri’s fingers find their way to that terribly sensitive spot. If he was worried somebody would hear before, he was terrified now. “KIHIHIIIRIII!!! EEEK!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAT *sǫᴜᴇᴀʟ* THEHERE“ Bakugou writhed underneath Kiri. “jackpot! You do realize you havent told me to stop omce right? If i hadnt known better i’d think you like this!“ Bakugou may as well dig himself a grave now. “FAHAHAAHAHHAAHAHAHCK OFF, SHIHITTY HAHAHAHHAIR!!“ Bakugous laughter suddenly turned silent, and Kiri took that as his que to stop, leaving Blasty to curl up on himself, giggling at the phantom tickles. “fuhuhuck...yohou..“ he panted, still smiling. “there we go, all better! Its christmas time, cheer up!“ Kiri commanded, before returning to the ladder.

Bakugou grabbed the doorknob to go inside, and murmured a barely audible ‘thank you’ to Kiri. He acted like he didn’t hear, but couldn’t help the grin on his face after. Let’s just say Bakugou was in the holiday mood after that.

#tickle content #tickle fic #mha #bnha #mha tickle #bnha tickle #christmas #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou

[peninkwrites]

📓!!

OKAY. I've talked about this AU before but I'm gonna go into more detail. It's an AU for this cancelled BBC show about gay zombies called "In the Flesh".

Essential need-to-know about the world:

The Rising happened a few years ago, it was a zombie apocalypse in the sense that everyone who died in the year before crawled out of their graves. Zombies did eat people's brains (and sheep brains) but bites did not "turn" you, there was a finite number of resurrected. Zombies are now treatable, so the dead can go home to their families.

But of course there's mistrust and conflict because the things that were eating people's families are now just waltzing back into society.

As for plot: (some stuff carries over like directly from the show when I say this show was sooo c!Wilbur core. whew)

Wilbur killed himself and was resurrected during the Rising. He's been treated and can now go home to his small town with his family. His family includes his dad Phil, his dad's best friend who moved in with them during the Rising, and his little brother Tommy.

Tommy joined the militia during the Rising. He hates zombies, and he especially hates his brother for abandoning him. Most militias are shut down, but Tommy and some others are still patrolling the woods, killing zombies, and of course led by Dream, who Tommy seriously looks up to. (I'm thinking Sam and Sapnap are also part of the militia, Sapnap stops though once Quackity comes home, Tommy doesn't stop when Wilbur does because he's mad at him) Sam isn't like, bigoted against the resurrected, just obsessed with keeping people safe.

Quackity is also resurrected. He came home from the treatment center to find that his two fiances got married without him (because as far as they were concerned, he was dead, they were trying to live again) but he's still hurt and feels like he doesn't belong there anymore. He's more radical, he doesn't try to hide he's resurrected, so he gets a lot of shit in this tiny town. (Schlatt is a fanatical preacher claiming the resurrected are demons from hell)

Tubbo is new on the town council, assisting Schlatt, but he's not one of the fanatics, instead he's volunteered to serve as a nurse helping the resurrected with their treatments in secret, something that if found out would lose him his job and probably worse. In his rounds, he befriends Ranboo, a resurrected who is desperately trying to hide what he is. He doesn't remember his life before the Rising, and he doesn't have anyone.

Some fucking Insane scenes from the show I intend to carry over:

(SPOILERS for the show in the flesh and this AU if I ever get around to it lmao)

Wilbur disappearing for a few days and scaring the shit out of his family, because the last time that happened, well. Techno goes after him, they have a talk, and when he returns Phil is too calm, so Wilbur goads him into yelling at him so Phil finally breaks down and screams himself hoarse about finding Wilbur's body and carrying him home. Genuinely, the scene from the show is one of my favorites of anything ever.

Quackity is having some tension with Sapnap and Karl, he's resentful, they're unsure. (Okay, in the show, it was this guy who came home to find his wife remarried with his best friend, so polyamory wasn't the solution. I haven't decided if I'm going that route or making it them all being engaged but it still being complicated because Feelings) But basically, Quackity and Karl (maybe Sapnap? I haven't decided) accidentally get locked in a garage. At which point, Quackity's watch starts beeping reminding him he needs his shot. Because the Resurrected Need to have their medicine administered once a day or they Will go rabid again. At which point Quackity is freaking out, he gives Karl a wrench and tells him if he starts acting weird he needs to be ready to bash his skull in, Karl is freaking out because he doesn't want to do this, and at the last second, Sapnap breaks down the door and tackles Quackity to the ground. But after that, Quackity is the one who doesn't feel like he should be there, because he thinks he's too dangerous (that, or I think in the show the guy was arrested and sent back to the treatment center which is so bad, haven't decided yet)

Dream gets pissed off and defensive when Tommy starts to forgive his brother, so he kidnaps Wilbur and drugs him with something that negates the effect of the treatment, hoping he'll go rabid and Tommy will be forced to kill him, but Tommy can't shoot his brother, and Wilbur somehow manages to stop himself from attacking him until. Idk maybe Techno tackles him before someone else can shoot Wilbur.

#ask games #utlana #AH love this show #in the flesh au #this is so much and basically spoils everyhting I might have planned but I'm not writing this any time soon so #thanks for the ask!! #my writing #(sorta)