#NO BUT SERIOUSLY LIKE SAME BRAIN!!! THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS THE SILVER A D BIG ONE LIKE AHH 💖💖💖

[churchdunlap]

free dating lovepedia

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#chat

[mushtoons]

I'm back from raiding my pantry. Here's some more headcanons and a friendly nudge to go to bed lol

1. I think Shadow would make an excellent ventriloquist. Something about him makes me think "now that guy can throw his voice."

2. Amy is colorblind. I think that's the only way she could realistically mistake Shadow for Sonic in broad daylight.

3. Before he was turned into a weapon, Shadow had aspirations of being a house husband, with a white picket fence and two young kids.

4. Silver tried really really hard to make a restaurant last long enough to make it to his future because the food was so good. Now he can only enjoy it when he visits the past.

5. Eggman leaves a gift on Shadow's doorstep every year for his birthday. It's both very sweet and annoying, because it's mostly Eggman-themed, like a jacket with his logo on it, or a card with money asking him to please join his empire so they can rule together, or a can opener shaped like his moustache.

6. Shadow and Big are best friends and they go fishing regularly

7. Sonic is really good at using the Five Finger Discount cause he grew up impoverished. He tries not to do it anymore but sometimes his stomach will growl and his first instinct is always to sneak some food.

8. Shadow will sometimes ask to spar with others in an effort to teach them different combat methods and make them less predictable in a fight. He doesn't tell them that he's doing it because that would force him to admit to thinking about/having concern for people that aren't omega and rouge, so to the others it really just feels like "Shadow showed up and made me fight him for half an hour."

yes,,,,yeS,,,,YESSS!!!!!!! I LOVE ALL THESE AND OKAY ITS HONESTLY SO WEAR HOW LIKE ALMOST SAME HAT FOR MOST OF THESE EXCEPT URS IS BETTER WORDERED AND THOUGHT OUT 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

#NO BUT SERIOUSLY LIKE SAME BRAIN!!! THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS THE SILVER A D BIG ONE LIKE AHH 💖💖💖 #IM SO GLAD IM NOT ALONE #AND OKAY FOR THE HOUSE HUSBAND ONE THAT REALLY STICKS OUT TO ME CU #CUZ LIKE I SAID ONCE I HAVE A LOWKEY SLOWBURN SONKNUXADOW FANFIC IN MY HEAD AND LIKE #A HEADCANON I ALWAYS HAD AS TO WHY SHADOW AND SONIC DIDNT WORK OUT WAS SHADOW WANTED THE CLICHÉ FRONT PAGE MAGAZINE LIFE #WITH WHITE FENCES HOME COOKED MEALS AND JUST THE RUN OF THE MILL FAMILY WHILE SONIC DOESNT WANT TO SETTLE DOWN LIKE THAT AND DHDJDJ #IM RAMBLING LMAOO #I ABSOLUTELY FUCKING LOVE THESE AND AM NOW PUTTING THEM ON THE LIST (dhdjdjd even if i sort already had then but ur versions are better) #wood wide web

[sukirichi]

acquainted

You had no intentions of becoming acquainted with the clan your family had cut ties with, but when Naoya Zenin himself is willing to teach you a lesson and you’re determined to show him what you’re capable of, it becomes a silly game of power and dominance.

REQUEST. naoya putting reader back to her place

WARNINGS: Naoya Zenin, rough sex, orgasm denial, face fucking, slight voyeurism, degradation, slight bondage, cowgirl riding, manhandling, spanking, hate sex

WC. 5.4k+

NOTES. Because Naoya is my favorite, his fic is the only one I’ve ever edited, LOL. Even though this is requested, this is written out of self-indulgence, purely because I love Naoya and even though he’s nasty, he’s my comfort character. And freaking FINALLY I have written more for this man. I worship this King 👑

There were so many ways this day had gone wrong. First, your shower broke. Second, the maintenance men couldn’t come until late in the afternoon, so you had to drive all the way to school looking like a half-mess. You weren’t a slob, of course, but you were beyond irritable at the thought your hair felt greasier than most.

So when an unfamiliar mop of blonde hair sat at your place, the sight of pierced ears meeting your gaze as you smiled at the young man, you had to clutch your bag tighter. No need to be harsh to anyone; you reminded yourself.

“Hi,” you greeted as politely as you could.

The young man in your seat was handsome — terribly so — feline eyes emphasized with an eyeliner, and stunning green eyes that peered up at you with utmost boredom. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you’d seen him before.

“I believe you’re in my seat.”

You expected he’d kindly take another seat since the hall was empty, but he only leaned back in your seat, brow raised with a slight smirk. “So?”

Your mouth fell agape, hands falling at your sides. Who was this guy? “What do you mean, so? Get the fuck out of my seat.”

“Women,” he rolled his eyes, “Always so tempered and dirty mouthed,” the words felt like stinging slap in your face, and he easily read through you when he snickered to himself, waving a hand in the air as if he was swatting a fly away. “I’m already sitting here, so go find someplace else. I came here first.”

“You little — who do you think you are?”

“Who do you think you are for speaking to me? Did I give you permission?”

His condescending voice made you lunge at him if not for your friend’s hand wrapping at your arm, shooting worried glances over the guy. His smirk deepened when your friend pulled away, the words mutter under her breath. “Come on, let’s go,” she tugged you away despite your protests, pushing your shoulders down to make you sit. Once out of earshot, she rolled her eyes. “I seriously hate that guy. Don’t you ever involve yourself with him.”

“Who’s that prick anyway? He acts so high and mighty like he’s some rich daddy’s son. Look, he’s totally claiming my seat as his!”

“That’s Naoya Zenin, and yeah, he is some rich daddy’s son,” she confirmed, shivering at the mere mention of his name. “He’s an absolutely big misogynist. Don’t be fooled by his pretty face — he’s the worst fuckboy to ever exist. That dick of his isn’t worth getting fucked over. He’s already made half the women in school cry and run after him like a horde of lovesick zombies,” your friend gagged with a shake of her head, “It’s terrifying, actually.”

“Fucking asshole,” you hissed under your breath, sending side glances at the corner of your eye.

That stupid guy was still in your seat, a bored expression on his handsome face, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks at every blink. He just had to be a sexist pig with that gorgeous face — no good men existed anymore. “Whatever. He’ll get a taste of his own medicine soon.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“I’m doing this for all of us,” you announced with your spine straightened. “I’m not letting a man walk like that acting like he’s got the whole world at his feet. I’ll teach him a lesson or two.”

“You do know he can sue you if you punch him right?”

“Who said I was going to punch him?” a smirk painted your lips at the same time he felt your eyes burning holes at the side of his face, your expression even more triumphant when he tilted his head to the side, eyebrow cocked at your gaze. He must’ve assumed you’d fallen for his looks judging by the satisfied smile on his face, making you laugh because it would be fun to teach him a lesson.  “No, I have a much more interesting plan in mind.”

It turned out that Naoya wasn’t that much of a stranger.

You had his reputation to thank for — people spoke his name left and right that it was nearly impossible not to know of him. It had you wondering how you managed to live through university so long without knowing him when the name drowned you; he was a Zenin.

No wonder that name was so familiar.

The Zenin’s were a close business partner of your family, but they cut off ties with their company years ago due to them having an intolerable attitude. Clearly, it ran in the blood, and their heir manifested it so well.

Thoughts of Naoya and his stupid face were soon drowned out by expensive champagne, the golden liquid sparkling in your hands. You had to attend this dinner gala where businessmen and powerful families alike conjoined for a formal opportunity of forming connections and solidifying deals, pressuring you to be at your best behaviour lest you wanted your black card to be cut off.

You made your way through the crowd to get another one of those hors d oeuvres, opting to just sit in the corner while you watched your family plaster on big, fake smiles with even louder, faker laughter.

It was quite sad, really, that people had to do stuff like this, but who were you to complain when it was what fed you on a silver plate all the time?

For now, you just wanted to enjoy the new dress your mother had gotten you, the silk black material hugged around your curves delectably. Pearl drop earrings hung to frame the sides of your face, legs lengthened and accentuated with stiletto heels.

You felt sexy — especially when you got lingering gazes from men who were slightly older and definitely richer, though you made no move.

The last thing you wanted was to become someone’s trophy wife when you could become so much more.  Plus, only your parents had the task of befriending people and building trust with others. You were only here to help represent the name somewhat with your pretty face, not really having much of an intention to be acquainted with anyone.

You swiped another glass of fizzy alcohol from the waiter that passed by, glossy red lips pinched around the glass when a sultry voice mused at your ear, “Still can’t find a seat?”

Swirling around so fast that the contents nearly poured out the glass, you weren’t surprised to see Naoya fucking Zenin stood before you, his tall stature draped in only the finest and hand-stitched three piece suit.

He looked absolutely delectable this way, earrings glimmering under the golden chandeliers and eyes lined with kohl, the aura of elegance that perfectly concealed his less than pleasing personality excessively charming.

You were beyond appalled.

“Still can’t find a brain?” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, eyes still narrowed at Naoya’s displeased ones as you dunk your drink in one go. “What are you doing here, pig?”

“I’ll let that comment slide once — only because you look hot tonight,” his predatory gaze ran over your form, the careful pattern of him pausing at the swell of your breasts sliding to the curve of your hips heating up each inch of your skin. “And it’s Naoya for you. Naoya Zenin, the rightful heir of the Zenin Corp—”

“What’s that scent you’re wearing? Baby powder? Fitting for your cute face, actually.”

Naoya’s jaw clenched, clearly unaccustomed to people cutting off his holiness, and you had to bite down on your lip to prevent the chuckles from slipping through. “It’s Tom Ford.”

“Hmm, why am I not surprised? My horrible ex also wore the same scent. Maybe it’s a trademark for all limp losers, huh?” Naoya opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, stepping forward to grab at the space between his tie to pull him down. His face was mere centimetres away from you, close enough that his breath ghosted over your lips, the intense anger flaring through those eyes hot enough to burn you. “You act so smug and defensive, Naoya. Trying to have a big man personality to conceal a small dick?”

“I have nothing to prove to you.”

“You don’t need to prove me anything,” you glanced down at his pants with a smirk, ignoring the heat pulsing in your veins because the sight contradicted your words. There was a noticeable bulge inside those shiny black slacks, though the last thing you wanted him to see was the way your mouth watered in anticipation. “I already know what I need to know.”

“Yeah? You and your shitty girlfriends can’t stop talking about my dick?”

You shrugged sarcastically, “You know women. We’re tireless complainers.”

Naoya’s jaw ticked upon you using his words against him, his hands coming up to caress at your neck, his nails scratching behind the thick silver chain you wore.

From afar and in the eyes of others, people would’ve thought you and Naoya were simply getting a little too heated, his lips dipped to graze your ear while his slender fingers pressed a little tighter into your air pipe. Your positions could easily be mistaken for Naoya seducing you, and you supposed he was, since your body responded differently from your verbal protests.

“You should watch what you’re saying,” he warned, voice low with warning. “I could easily dump your body into a river and no one would even notice. In fact, maybe the world might even thank me for doing them a service and ridding them of a spiteful woman like you.”

“Oh, pretty boy,” you chuckled back and stood to your tippy toes. One of your hands wrapped around his neck to forcefully tilt his neck to yours, nose pressed above his collar to inhale the intoxicating masculine scent he wore. “You’re all bark and no bite. Why don’t you show me what you’re capable of? If you’re as awful as they make you out to be, maybe I’ll shiver enough to drop my panties for you.”

You didn’t miss the way Naoya’s hands gripped at your waist to pull you close, enticing you to continue with your insults because maybe Naoya liked this a lot more than he let on. Could it be his superiority complex didn’t always like submissive women, after all?

Well, it would make sense; everyone always liked a little challenge, didn’t they?

If that was what he wanted, then you’d be generous enough to grant it to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to get a chance to put me in my place, to teach me a lesson for defiling the oh-so-mighty Naoya Zenin?” you purposefully toned your voice down to a more breathy tone, your chest swelling with pride when Naoya sucked in a sharp inhale beside your ear.

God, he sounded beautiful — and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. Now, you were eager to hear what else those disgusting lips could be capable of other than degrading you.  

Pulling away from him just to bat your lashes at him, heat pooled straight into your core when Naoya’s gaze had completely darkened, dark orbs pooled with lust and anger. Only he could make such an expression look so good.

“You don’t scare me, Zenin. You’re nothing but a small boy wearing big man pants.”

For a moment, your smile widened, believing that you’d won this time around. Naoya was still breathing hard at each brush of your stomach to his now hardening erection, but then he smirked and gently pushed you away from him. “I’m not fucking you here,” he stated calmly, not even bothering to keep his voice low. “You’re a lot dumber than I thought you’d be if you really think I’m whipping my cock out during this dreadful dinner.”

“This dreadful dinner you speak of is an opportunity for people like us to establish connections. I would’ve assumed you wanted nothing more to impress others but it seems I was wrong. If you hate this event so much, why bother coming here in the first place?”

“Just had a feeling I was going to meet a little minx,” he watched you seductively, his smirk adorned with his tongue peeking out to lick his lips — in turn wetting you in places he promised to make his by the end of the night. Curse him, you chanted in your head, curse him for being so attractive. It would’ve been easier if he was ugly. “And as always, I’m right.”

You tilted a brow, slightly impressed. “So you’ve done your background check on me. That doesn’t explain why you’re still here though. Surely a woman couldn’t be enough for a reason to make a man like you go all this way?”

“You’re right, a woman would never be a good enough reason, but I wanted to put you in your place,” his eyes flickered back up to you, now twinkling with danger and something else entirely. “Bad little girls need to be a taught to a lesson.”

“So what’re you waiting for? Go ahead and show me your ways, Zenin.”

“I will,” he nodded to himself, “I’m about to,” Naoya was nothing but confident as he strode your way until his arms was locked with yours, his breath tickling your collarbones that had unknowingly exposed itself at each heated touch. “You’re not that bad for a slut. You look like one, smell like one — I bet you also feel like one.”

A dry laugh left your lips as you fisted his shirt, mirroring his smirk to show that if a match was what he looked for, then a match he’d find indeed. Only this time, you would be worse.

“Why don’t you go ahead and find out?”

Naoya, despite being an absolutely poor excuse of a human being, was somewhat redeemable for being a man of his words. Find out he did, and he wasted no time into shoving you inside his McLaren, barely able to keep his hands off you the whole way up to his penthouse.

It was a blurry mess from there.

Moans spilled from your lips while he ripped your clothes off, not bothering to apologize that he’d just ruined one of your most prized possessions, his lust-clouded haze mumbling that he’d just buy you another one.

It was the last thing you expected to hear from him, but you couldn’t protest, not when he’d angrily snapped the buttons of his shirt away, a low growl mixing with your breathy whines as he loosened his tie.

Your eyes widened at the sight, legs rubbing together as you imagined what else he could do with that pretty tie of his.

Would he tie you to his bed, fuck you stupid and call you useless? Or perhaps, you could do it?

Naoya cut off your train of thought by pushing you back to his mattress, his hands tugging at his belt before he pulled his boxers down, his thick length slapping at his abdomen. Your mouth immediately watered at the sight. You were beyond wet from nothing but your sloppy make-out sessions, but would he fit?

Just the thought of him giving you that burning stretch made your legs spread beside his sides, the sardonic laughter ripping from Naoya’s lips absolutely disgusting.

“Fucking pathetic. You’re just like everyone else; submitting to me at the sight of my cock, but that’s not true, is it? Moment you saw me, I knew you were clenching around nothing,” he gripped at your jaw to force you to look at him. You glared up at him from his bruising hold, your cheeks squished under his rough hands. “But that’s okay; wanting me is not something you should be ashamed about. Although you should be thanking me I’m even letting you near me like this.”

“I’m so honoured. Come on, Naoya, let me feel you — let me make you feel good.”

Naoya, too lost in his ego, missed the sarcasm dripping in your voice. “So eager to be my cock sleeve, huh?” he grinned, tugging at your hair to push you deeper into his mattress.  “Get on your knees. Now suck.”

He was too harsh in his pace, determined to exert his dominance over you. You could feel every ridge of his vein as he continued fucking into your mouth, his abs rippling above you. It felt like witnessing a Greek god come apart, and you took pleasure in being his ruin, prompting you to hollow your cheeks and bob your mouth up and down on his cock harder.

Naoya’s chuckles were broken and often mixed with curses of fuck, you feel so fucking good, his nails now scratching at your scalp.

Soon, Naoya stilled inside you, his hold around your head deadly to keep you in place. Tears flowed down your face as he kept thrusting inside, making sure to hit the back of your throat before his muscles tightened. Spurts of warm cum followed after that, but instead of swallowing it like you expected he’d command you to do, Naoya whipped out his cock and came all over your face, his seed shooting all over your cheeks and lips.

You took it all obediently, just enough to give him the false pretense of submissiveness that he was so willing to force from you.

While he was occupied pumping his still rock hard cock, eyes closed and massaging your scalp almost soothingly, Naoya failed to notice your hurried movements of standing from the bed, fingers looped around his tie.

A small wail resonated from him when you shoved him down onto the bed, knees locked at either sides of his waist before you tugged at the cloth wrapped around his neck. Naoya kicked his legs behind you as you tied his wrists to the bed hard enough that Naoya winced, the tie only forming tighter at each lame grapple of his.

You looked back at how he got more beautiful laid out in front of you like that, chest heaving up and down while he struggled against the restraints, face flushed with anger — no, this wasn’t anger anymore — he was furious.

“What are you doing?! Get this off me — how dare you!”

“How dare you,” you spat back, discarding your lace bra off to wipe his cum away from your face, gagging when the bitter cum left a tang on your lips. “I just got my skin appointment last week and you came on my face like that?”

Naoya kept fighting back before he realised it was a futile attempt, leaning back down onto the pillows, though that didn’t soften his heated eyes on yours. You cooed at how adorable he submitted to you, running a finger down the sides of his jaw. “Aw, don’t look so angry, baby. I’m just starting my fun,” you purred, “You should’ve known better than to mess with me, Naoya. I’m not as nice as the others. And I’ll show you just how awful I can be.”

Naoya’s breath hitched when you shimmied out of your underwear, a dark glint in your eyes as you stretched the elastic into a fake arrow until it snapped into his face.

“You fucking bitch,” he growled, turning his face away from your panties soaked with arousal. “Once I get out of here, I will ruin you.”

“Huh, yeah, sure,” you mumbled incoherently, too lost in the pleasure as you sunk down on his cock. You were right, he was fucking thick, stretching you out better than any of your toys could. Plus, he was warm and leaking with pre-cum that he slid in easily, erotic groans leaving both your mouths once he was finally seated inside you.

Naoya was growling at you to let go of him when you laughed, lifting your hips up slowly before sliding back down on him just as slow, almost as if you made love to his cock the same passionate way you did with a lover. “You do have a wonderful cock, though. I’ve never felt this good in my life,” you leaned down to lick a stripe down to his neck, allowing him to hear the needy pants you graced with him. “You feel so good, Naoya, oh. If you weren’t such an asshole, I might even fall in love with you.”

“Go faster. This is unfair!”

Naoya tried thrusting deep into you, evidently unsatisfied at this torturous pace you set, but you only gripped at his thigh in warning, your eyes no longer sweet as you glared at him.

“Nothing’s ever fair in this world, sweetheart,” you reminded him, shivering every now and then as you bounced on his cock, his length slipping past through your walls magically. “Like how such a gorgeous face and amazing dick is paired with the most disgusting personality ever. No, it’s not fair, indeed...”

You closed your eyes with your head thrown back, placing your hips flat on his pelvic bone instead, fingers rubbing at your clit while Naoya throbbed inside you, desperate for release.

The little whines you gave were nothing but mocking. You knew that Naoya suffered through this position, but did you care? Absolutely not. With Naoya’s cock stretching you full and his tip kissing your most sensitive spots, in addition to your fingers rubbing and tweaking at your clit, this was the most pleasure you’d ever gotten from sex.

You were stimulated everywhere, your other hand reached up to tug at your hardened nipples.

Your walls clenched around him, signalling him that you were close and you let out a broken moan, falling forward to gyrate your hips around his cock to push you over the edge. It wasn’t enough to get him off since you were mostly still fondling with your clit, the sounds of your moans like torture to his ears.

“No, don’t you dare cum, I swear if you—” Your orgasm washed over you comfortingly like a warm blanket. Instead of seeing white, it was like your vision cleared, the sight of the sweat that made Naoya’s hair stick to his forehead in clumps crystal clear. You prolonged your orgasm by thrusting your hips in a sickening rhythm of thrust, pause, thrust, stop ­— and by then Naoya was losing his mind.

Naoya lost control as he snapped his hips upwards inside you hard enough that you winced in pain, pushing off his dick until he’s left humping the empty air, his body drenched with perspiration. “No, no, no, fuck you! Get back here you useless slut!”

You lay beside him, giggling in post-orgasm bliss. Just to tease him, you rolled to his side to press a kiss to his cheek, laughing harder when your lips came in contact with his flushed skin.

“You’re so adorable like this,” you cupped his face tenderly, perfectly aware that Naoya had begun to growl, his wrists almost bruised from how hard he brawled against his tie. “If I didn’t hate you so much, I would’ve let you cum inside me,” you offered with a pat to his chest, moving off the bed with wobbly legs.

“Well, whatever, that was fun. I would say we both had the most sensual sex of our lives, but that would be a joke for you, don’t you think?” you snorted as you inserted your arms to his discarded suit jacket.

Naoya stayed still on the bed, his cock still painfully hard and slick with your cum. “Don’t look so angry, Naoya. You had it coming for you. Don’t worry, though, as a thanks for letting me cum that hard — though I mostly did all the work — I’ll keep this between us so you at least get to keep whatever’s left of your dignity,” you blew a kiss his way, “Bye, sweetie. At least now I know people weren’t exaggerating when they called you a good fuck.”

Not bothering to slip your heels back on, you looped your shoes into the curls of your fingers, about to button Naoya’s jacket as you made your way to his door.

You never got halfway across the room when strong arms suddenly lifted you off the ground, your vision transitioning from his door to the pads of his feet, your body slung across his shoulder. Naoya gripped at your ass in warning when you kicked your legs, leaving him with no choice but to hug your thighs with one arm.

The next thing you knew, he slammed the balcony doors open with one hand and slammed you on the pool table. His rough hands yanked his jacket away from your body, the chilly night of the air bringing a shiver down your spine as it hit your drenched core.

Naoya had pinned your arms flat on your back in a painful angle, making you cry out just as he kneed your legs open, his free hand that wasn’t pinning you down aligning his cock against your hole. You were a moaning mess underneath him, the pain only an intoxicating addition to the pleasure he was pounding into you. Naoya then leaned to whisper your ear, the sudden movement making his cock slide deeper into you, the pleasure overwhelming.

“Oh, Naoya, fuck—”

“I am not just a good fuck,” he corrected you, “I am Naoya Zenin — and you will do well being silent and submissive while I fuck you, do you understand?” You were too lost in the feeling of him rutting deep into you that he had you seeing white this time around. When you didn’t answer, Naoya slapped your ass, your yelps echoing from the dead night. “I asked you a question.”

“No,” you bit back, “I refuse to—” you were silenced when Naoya hit your sweet spot, laughing at your state that you were too fucked out to give him a proper answer.

Naoya’s pace was merciless as he fucked deeper into you, the hand on your ass moving up to grab at your waist to keep slamming you back to his cock. He watched as your lips sucked him in so tight that he didn’t know whether you were pushing him out or refusing to let go. Turning your head to the side to gasp for air, you opened your eyes, only to be met by the sight of men crowding on the building across yours to witness your undoing by Naoya’s hands.

“I’ve barely started and you’re already so wet for me,” he mocked in your ear. As if on cue, squelching sounds accompanied your desperate moans, hands grabbing at nothing in particular. “Shall I try upping my speed?”

“N-Naoya- there are people looking.”

“Let them see,” he seethed, using one arm to lift your other leg up to the table to gain him more access into your warm, wet cavern. The sudden stretch made your muscles ache until you lay there limp; jaw clenched at the pleasure Naoya drowned you with. “Let them know how much I’m making this pussy mine. Gosh, can you hear yourself? You sound like a dirty fucking slut,” another slap landed on your ass, hard enough to leave a mark there for tomorrow. “You claim to hate me, so then why are you dripping all over me, huh? Pathetic whore. You women are nothing but cum dumps to me.”

Naoya spread your butt cheeks open, laughing at the silly way you clenched around him every time he pulled out, your puffy lips sucking him back again until Naoya buried himself to the hilt. His dick did wonders in letting out the most erotic whines and whimpers you never thought you’d be capable of, leaving you a drooling and panting mess under him.

“You little fucker, don’t even think about cumming inside me, I will literally castrate you and feed your balls to yourself.”

“Such a dirty mouth. Though that’s expected of a nasty woman like you,” he sassed, his thrusts faltering while his hand clenched your flesh tighter. That was enough to send you over the edge when Naoya slammed his hips harder and more desperately this time around, his cock twitching against your walls. “You wish I would cum inside you. But I have a better plan in mind.”

All it took was one rough hand for him to pull you before him, pushing you down into your knees again as he came inside your mouth. You could feel your cum and his dripping onto his dark marble tiles, the white pool of liquid shining.

Naoya thrusted lazily into your mouth, a sickening grin on his face while he kept you down there. His glare deepened when you tried to pull away from him. “Swallow, you slut. Or I’m fucking your face until I break your jaw.”

Furiously, you swallowed around his cock, Naoya groaning at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him. The moment you gagged from when his tip poked the back of your throat, Naoya pushed you off him until you were left choking on the ground. You gasped for air, hands clasped around your neck, sure that you were going to have a sore jaw and a fucked throat tomorrow.

You kept glaring at Naoya, but this didn’t deter him from gripping your chin down, humming to himself upon seeing that his cum was now gone in your mouth. “Hmm, so you did swallow it like a good girl. I’m glad I’ve disciplined you well.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’m King there already, baby,” Before you could retort, his arms encircled your waist until you were heaved in his arms again. You pounded against his back because you were too done, you couldn’t do another round. Naoya sighed as he threw you in the bed as if you were a ragdoll, disappearing in the bathroom for a while before coming back with a wet towel, which he rudely flicked your way. “Clean yourself up and then leave. Take the back elevators. I don’t want the staff to see a whore leaving my place.”

“You’re the one who brought me here.”

“Only because I had a duty to put you in your place,” He stared at you with his smirk now permanent in his face, admiring the bruises he left on your body.

“We’re not over yet, Zenin. I’m going to break you one way or another.”

You rolled your eyes at him, walking to his closet to wear one of his shirts. Naoya was silent the whole time as he watched you button his shirt with trembling hands, his presence hot on your heels as he followed you out the large room.

As you were about to leave, you picked up the towel you used to clean your cum with and threw it right at his face.

Naoya dodged it easily, eyeing the towel with a scoff. “Still resilient, I see,” settling down on one of his lounge chairs like it was a throne, Naoya rested his cheek on his fist as he stared you down. “But fine — I accept your challenge. A true man never backs down from a challenge, after all.”

“Oh, honey, I’m more than just a challenge,” you sneered.

Naoya’s gaze left your eyes to stare at your perky nipples that poked through his shirt, feeling his cock swell all over again. But he was a man of control and dignity — he wouldn’t do anything more with you, not when it was clear you’ve had enough for tonight.

It didn’t bother him though, he knew he’d have more opportunities to put you in your place.

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be the one to decide your worth,” he declared oh so smugly, the mere sound of his voice pushing you to slam a fist to ruin that pretty face of his, though you held your ground, far too tired to move a muscle. Naoya saw this too, and he smiled to himself, head tilted to the side as he studied the mess he’d made of you. “Tomorrow, same time same place?”

There was no telling what pushed you to agree, but the words left your lips far too confidently for you to even wonder why.

“Be ready for me, Zenin.”

“I always am.”

All the way back to the back elevators that Naoya had directed you at, you pondered on how you’d be able to tell your parents you suddenly needed a ride home when they had no idea you left the dinner gala in the first place. But most of all, how were you supposed to tell them you’d acquainted yourself with the Zenin clan all over again?

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin #naoya zenin x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #naoya zenin imagines #naoya zenin x reader imagines #naoya zenin x you #naoya x you #zenin naoya #jujutsu kaisen naoya zenin #naoya zenin x you smut #naoya zenin x reader romance #naoya x reader romance #NAOYA SUPREMACY #suki: 500 milestone event #ayyyy i swear all of my naoya fics are my favorite like DUH #suki: queued

[team-cap-for-the-win]

So I want to start reading Marvel comics, but I honestly have no idea where to start. Online? Paper copies? Do you read them in order or is it ok to pick and choose?

Anyway. Any advice?

OH HI JINX!!!

Very good question over here :D

First off, I am broke and comics aren't even sold where I live and I would have to order them... no thanks. I read all of them online on pirate sites, whoops. I mostly use readcomiconline.li, it's a pretty good database (only downside is that there are ads and a lot of them are lewd, it's like pirating a movie you gotta close them and then it's ok)

So! Comics! It really depends on what you want to read! I mostly read Avengers and Captain America comics, plus sometimes Spider-Man and all the different crossover events, so I'm not the best if you're not looking for those specifically.

However! When I first got into comics, I looked up some reading guides and stuff and they usually pointed me the right way. One of the first (if not the first) of Marvel comics I read was the original Civil War, which is only like 7 issues without the tie-ins (some of the original comic runs go for even hundreds of issues! Spider-Man from the 60s is like 800 issues).

I think Civil War is a good one to start on when you know the events from the movies, just to compare them if not anything else. I have to say I was surprised by some of the things that went on in there oof, and be ready for some really wild shit haha.

As for order, it doesn't really matter when it comes to individual runs (By the way a run is a collection of issues usually by the same writers and artists and it follows one cohesive story). Only within a run you should read them chronologically because that's how the events unfold in the story too. Different runs might mention previous events from other stories but those are usually small references, unless it was a big big event that affected all of the marvel universe.

Not sure if you're aware of this, but the main comic plotline and universe is called Earth-616, that's where all the main things go on. Alternate universes have different numbers assigned. Most notorious is Earth-1610 aka the Ultimates, which reimagined the heroes in a more serious, modern setting. The MCU is based off of these, combined with 616. I read some and I didn't like them all that much (very edgy and some stuff was seriously messed up like: Hank Pym beats his wife Janet, Hulk ate the chitauri leader, Tony has a sentient brain tumour, Red Skull is Steve's son, and I'm pretty sure Pietro and Wanda were in an incestous relationship, ew...). But! It did give us Miles Morales so. Silver linings.

Anyway. Just to throw out some suggestions of comics I either enjoyed reading or saw recommended a lot:

Matt Fraction's Hawkeye (2012) (deemed most iconic version of Clint)

Captain America Vol. 5 (2005) (this is the one that redefined the character, had the Winter Soldier storyline, and goes all the way to Civil War + Bucky as Cap)

Captain America (2017) (but ignore issue 25# and go straight to #695-#704. This one has references to Secret Empire /hydra cap storyline/ because it happens right after it and it's just. nice short stories that i absolutely adore)

Captain America: Sam Wilson (2015) (Sam Cap! This one follows the events of the 2014 Cap run and eventually Pleasant Hill... and then Secret Empire, which is uhh problematic but not a bad story over all and Sam Cap is always a win!)

Spidey (2016) (This one is just a delightful collection of Peter teaming up with other heroes and having misadventures! It's quite short too, just 12 issues)

Avenging Spider-Man (2012) (Also Peter teaming up with various characters but like, more serious)

Miles Morales: Spider-Man (2019) (The latest Miles run and I'm not all caught up yet but I like it a lot!)

Jonathan Hickman's Avengers (2013) (I haven't finished this one because it has a ton of characters but a lot of people consider it to be THE Avengers run)

Marvel Adventures: The Avengers (2006) (Unrestrained summer fun. If you're looking for light-hearted stories, this one is perfect)

Avengers (2018) (Current Avengers run. I rather like this one! It does reference a ton of stuff so I wouldn't start with this one)

Phew, that took a fair bit of googling haha!

Then there are also crossover events, which unsurprisingly cross over a LOT of the characters (bigger than Avengers). I cannot vouch for these because they are usually very hit or miss but they're not too long. Those that I've read include: Civil War I. and Civil War II., Secret Empire, Avengers vs. X-Men, Avengers Disassembled + House of M, Absolute Carnage, King In Black, War of Realms, Empyre... there is a lot of these lol, it's best to look up the descriptions and decide whether you want to read them or not.

There are also countless What Ifs and alternate universe stories. Those usually have to be specifically searched for and 90% of the time they're absolutely bonkers.

And I think that about covers it! Wow, that was a mouthful. I hope it was helpful! Really I think you should pick a character and look up reading orders, there are a lot of people who organised those a lot better than I ever could haha.

Good luck and happy reading :D

#asks #comics #jinxquickfoot #long post #recs

[straightfacedstrangeness]

Not that anyone asked (but seriously I’d LOVE for someone to talk to me about PokeSpe (just no spoilers past vol 13)) but since I made an offhand remark about my Top 5 favorite characters, it occurred to me that I actually DO have approximately 5 top favorite characters, and I’m procrastinating on work, so I’m gonna ramble

**just in case, note that a lot of this will revolve around my childhood experience with gender in a “I’m AFAB (and present-day me still identifies as a cis girl) but I don’t fit in with what media is telling me girls are like” way, a brief childhood feeling of homophobia, and probably general TMI about my opinions and emotions throughout my life, haha

1. Yellow

Okay, so, I was a little kid when Pokemon Adventures started coming out in English, back when manga was released as single-issue monthly comic books instead of complete volumes.  So I was rereading the same chapters over and over while anxiously awaiting the rest of the story (and wound up missing a bunch of issues anyway)

I enjoyed the RGB arc, I thought it was fun, but I didn’t LOVE the series until Yellow showed up.  At that age my ideal crush was “a cute boy my age who would be nice to me” and Yellow was presented to the reader as a cute boy my age who was sweet and kind and gentle, but also good in a fight, as all shounen protags must be.  Extra bonus points because they had just a few physically weak Pokémon and tried to fight battles in a way that minimized damage to their own and the opponent’s Pokémon, which meant they fought in a particularly smart and clever way.  And I was considered “smart” for being good at school, so being a SMART cute “boy” my age who would be nice to me, Yellow was PERFECT.  I mean, I loved the arc in general because of the clever battles, and the mystery of what had happened to Red, why these people were after Pikachu, why Yellow was so secretive about themself and their mission, etc was really engaging.  But also I adored Yellow as a character and partly in a “I wonder if ‘he’ would like me??” kind of way X’D  So to my tiny child self who didn’t even know it was possible to like-like someone of the same gender (because I hadn’t read Cardcaptor Sakura yet XD ), the reveal that Yellow was a “girl” was devastating—I had to cross out floating hearts on at least one drawing of us holding hands (scandalous!) and, while kind of stunned and shaken for a while, decided that what I’d felt all along was a deep, intense desire to be friends X’D (which probably wasn’t too far from the truth since I was pre-puberty and later turned out to be asexual)

(Also note that I never got the RGB issue that had the chapter where Red helps a little ‘girl’ capture a Rattata—later proven to be Yellow’s backstory—so the gender reveal really came out of nowhere for me.)

But anyways, I still love Yellow as a character for all the above reasons, without the crush aspects because I’m way older than them now.

Also when I reread the series ten years ago, I finally realized “wait, aside from surprising the reader, there’s no real plot reason for Yellow to pretend to be a ‘boy’ except that Green told ‘her’ to—so why did ‘she’ do it?”...and because at that time I didn’t even know that nonbinary genders existed, I decided it was cus they had low self-esteem and pretending to be a different person gave them courage (the same reading I had for Mulan at the time).  These days I’m more inclined to “yeah, I think Yellow’s nonbinary,” but that other interpretation was deeply relatable to me and only made me love Yellow even more.

2. Bill

Bill’s definitely a character I’ve grown to love more as an adult, since I’ve gone from seeing myself as “a protagonist doing cool things” to “a side character just living their life who hopefully gets to do something once in a while.”  But as a kid and now, I like him mostly for the slapstick and goofy expressions and the (early chapters Viz translations) outrageous accent  X’D  My brain desperately craves endorphins and the best way to get em is through a good laugh.

But also, I liked that he was introduced as a goofy character-of-the-week who got into ridiculous trouble and had to be rescued, but then kept being brought back, was slowly built up to be the “smart sidekick who explains things,” and eventually got to the point where he was participating in big battles (the Yellow finale on Cerise Island).  I rambled about this in the tags of another post, but I liked that he was a character who was “weak” without being “useless.”  As a kid who was good at school, I was obsessed with being good at things and had developed a black-and-white view of the world where either you were “strong/smart” or “weak/stupid” to the point that failing or just being not-so-good at anything was devastating (it still kind of is), because that meant I was actually “weak/stupid” when I was supposed to be “strong/smart.”  So it was kind of awesome that this guy who kept getting into trouble and having to be rescued—and didn’t even want to BE part of the final battle—managed to hold his own and get through it and help out instead of being a burden that dragged everyone down.  Seriously, he used a MAGIKARP effectively—the Pokémon everyone makes fun of for being “useless” and he used its one attack to save his life!

(Bonus points for all this happening in contrast to my devastating childhood experience of stanning The One Girl Character in every popular shounen series, waiting desperately for her to get to do something in battle, and then her one spotlight episode revolved around her struggling because she was so weak...not only was that actually happening to a boy for once, it was actually happening in a more satisfying/empowering way :’D )

3. Gold

I have extremely specific tastes when it comes to “the dumb shounen/action movie protag,” because as a kid I hated it when the main character was “dumb” because I was “smart” (re: good at school) and people who were “dumb” shouldn’t deserve to be the main character and have all the cool powers and save the world and stuff.  As an adult, I hate it when male characters are dumb and/or jerks but it’s treated as fine or even sexy(??) and the other characters fawn over them, and I generally still kind of hate it when characters who are dumb and/or jerks get the big important role when there’s a female character RIGHT THERE who’s more competent (and OF COURSE she has to wind up falling in love with him)

But anyway, I have extremely specific tastes, and Gold is it  X’D  He’s the perfect combination of “unshakably confident in his own stupid/egotistic views” and “treated as annoying and/or comic relief by the rest of the cast” with a bonus dash of actually being really clever in battle (so my inner child goes “Ah yes, technically, he is ’smart,’ and therefore...worthwhile“)  Making me laugh while also impressing me is like the key to my heart.

4. Crystal

I’m too lazy to look it up, but when Viz was publishing Pokemon Adventures as monthly comics, they must have switched to publishing it as trade paperbacks only and/or had a huge gap between the end of Yellow and the start of GSC, because for YEARS I’d thought Yellow was the end of the series and was shocked the first time I saw later volumes.  (My dad was buying us the monthly issues at the local comic store, and either they wouldn’t have ordered the trade paperbacks or he wouldn’t have thought to check those shelves.)

Anyway, that’s a long lead-in to the statement of “Crystal would automatically be my #1 or #2 if I’d read her arc as a kid.”  She’s a girl, she wears pants, she’s EXTREMELY smart (genius-level “book-smarts” about every Pokémon’s behaviors and weaknesses PLUS being clever in a battle), was tough as nails (she KICKED her Pokéballs!!), had no interest in romance or her appearance, AND had a short arc about losing her confidence and training herself back up to full power.  I would have KILLED for a character like that when I was a little girl being told that “girls don’t like action shows like Dragon Ball Z” (but I was a girl and I did???) and that girls were supposed to be pretty and obsessed with fashion and dating, and that girls were never the main character of action series, just side characters who either did nothing or got one chance to do something and were pathetically weak (see above, and/or Sakura’s fight against Ino (Naruto), those couple filler eps where Téa/Anzu played Duel Monsters (Yu-Gi-Oh), Videl getting pummeled by Spopovich (DBZ), etc).

So anyway, she’s awesome, she’s exactly the type of character I would’ve loved as a kid.  The only reason she’s behind Gold here is because at my age, “makes me laugh” > “the kind of main character I used to wish I could be”

5. Green (the girl trainer...I’m just too loyal to the Viz version to call her “Blue”...)

I’m trying not to rehash the same “I’m a girl but none of the girls in my shows/comics are like me!” childhood woes over and over, haha, but as much as I always enjoyed Green for being extremely clever and outsmarting the boys and being funny when she did so, she always lost points with me for being “pretty” and flirting to get her way, because that put her in the box of “girls are supposed to be pretty and desired by boys and obsessed with their appearance and romance” that was so foreign and disheartening to me as a kid.

But her staredown with Ho-oh at the end of the GSC arc TOTALLY got me.  As a sad adult with anxiety, watching characters who are absolutely terrified overcome their fear, watching characters who are completely beaten down struggle back to their feet and keep fighting, is like my ultimate power fantasy.  That sequence genuinely had me in tears.

Also her bond with Silver is super precious, especially since that’s like the first time in the series we’ve seen her be genuinely emotional and vulnerable with someone instead of teasing or manipulating them.

Honorable mention: Sapphire

I haven’t gotten up to R/S in my reread yet, and I only read that arc once over like a weekend ten years ago, but I’m pretty sure she’s gonna be a Top Fave cus again there’s that “I'm not like other girls!” childhood feel  (last time I’m saying it, I promise)

It’s a story arc where one protag wants to fight the gyms and the other protag wants to win the beauty contests, but the one who wants to fight the gyms is the girl!!  And she’s the typical “dumb but extremely good at fighting” shounen protag but she’s the girl!!  She’s feral and illiterate and a total tomboy and wins all her fights and she’s a GIRL!!!!

--

Anyway, those are my kids and my dude and my probably way-too-personal reasons why.  If you wanna reblog, reply, or send an ask about your own faves...please

#pokemon adventures #rambling #crackpotawesomes #spent like an hour and a half on this oops

[reddrobins]

the shadow [d.wayne]

Older! Damian Wayne x Reader

Summary: A new vigilante in town is starting to get on Damians nerves. After telling his friend about them, he soon finds out that maybe working with ‘the shadow’ isn’t as bad as he thought.

Request: Aldkwkddkwj i love your writing sfm,, could you please write a damian x reader where he rants to her alter ego about her? Like he's in love with her civilian self and he asks for advice without knowing its them? Idk if that makes sense rip

"They are insufferable, (Y/N). I cannot stand to be around 'the shadow' for longer any longer than 5 minutes. I mean seriously, what name is 'the shadow'?"

You currently sat on the floor of the Batcave as Damian put on his armor, ranting about Gotham's newest vigilante. "I dunno bird brain," You started, calling him the now overused nickname (which he hated by the way),"I kinda like the idea of a girl vigilante. It's empowering."

"Tt.:" Damian gave, slipping on his domino mask, "But, we already have a female vigilante, Batgirl."

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from your spot, "Yes, but, Batgirl doesn't work alone. The Shadow does. I respect her."

Now in full Robin get-up, Damian walked towards the weapons cabinet, grabbing his katana, "Well, I don't. She's an annoyance and a distraction, Gotham would be better without her." The teen vigilante got on his cycle, putting it in gear. "Whatever the verdict, I do have to go on patrol now. Feel free to stick around the manor. I shall be back in two or three hours."

You waved goodbye to Damian, then took out your phone - checking the time.

11:30. Perfect, you thought, just enough time to go home and change.

Taking the elevator back up to the first floor of the manor, you gave a rushed goodbye to Alfred (and of course Titus too!) then sped out the front door.

You made it home just in the nick of time. 12:00, you thought, enough time to patrol and be back before Damian.

Dawning your silver and black costume, you tiptoe through your house's hallway, as to not wake your mother.

You unlatched the front window and jumped out of it, landing on the nearby fire escape. You checked your phone, which also served handily as your data pad.

'Two reports of armed robbery, one home invasion and three homicides' your phone reported.

Deciding that Damian and Bruce had the homicides covered, you went towards Gotham National bank, ready to take down whomever had thought tonight was the perfect night for crime.

As Bruce finished putting cuffs onto the suspect of murder number 3, he turned to Damian, "I have this covered, there’s still an active robbery at the bank - I need you to head over and report back to me who it is. Do not instigate, Robin."

The teen nodded and with his gun, grappled onto the closet building. Luckily, the bank wasn't too far from the location of the homicides and Damian made it to the robbery in no time.

He jumped down from the scaffolding of an apartment complex and raced over to the back of the bank, where he could easily sneak in unnoticed.

That was until he bumped into someone.

Swiftly, Damian rolled back, tripping the mystery person as he did and unsheathed his sword, pointing it at their neck.

"Whoah, Rob - chill out dude." His victim whisper-yelled.

Damian almost groaned, he knew that masked voice all too well.

"Shadow? What the hell are you doing here." He hissed, putting the sharp weapon away.

You dusted off your costume and stood up, narrowing your eyes at Damian. "I could ask you the same thing, bird brain. But if you have to know, there's a robbery in the works. I'm here to end it."

Though on the outside you seemed calm and collected, you were freaking out internally. Crap. you thought, I cannot have him figure out who I am. He'd never let me go out again.

Breaking you from your thoughts, Damian continued, "Tt. Sure you are. That's why I am here. To do a job that's much larger than the means of you." He pushed past you, checking your shoulder, and reached the back entrance.

"It's locked," you hollered. "I already tried that genius."

Damian glared at you, then took out a batarang, swiping it up and down in between the door crack until a click sounded. The boy-wonder turned towards you, smirking, "But you don't have batarangs. Genius."

As he snuck into the bank, you quickly followed after him, closing the door behind you.

Robin looked at you in disbelief, "Why are you still here?"

Angrily, you said, "Excuse you, but this was my case. I was here first and I plan to finish it." You may have loved Damian, but Robin sure was an ass.

This time, you pushed past him and into the main centre of the bank.

"Two-Face." You whispered.

There him and his goons stood, bags filled with money in hand as they pointed their tommyguns at the tellers and unlucky patrons.

"Alright!" The rouge yelled, "On the count of three I'm going to flip this coin, Tails, you all live and heads," He said darkly, "My men shoot you all."

Somewhere in the commotion, a woman cried out, begging for mercy - this didn't sit well with Dent.

"To show you that I mean business, Roy!" He yelled at one thug, who nodded before lifting his gun.

Oh my god, you thought, He's going to kill that woman

You had already seen enough and before the shot rang out, you lunged at the armed man, wrestling him for the gun.

"Shadow!" Robin yelled out, watching you struggle to unarm the thug.

Two-Face had a different plan. This time, he raised his gun, aiming it at you.

However you were too enthralled with trying to save the sobbing woman from Roy, thus Harvey's actions went unnoticed by you.

But not by Robin.

The teen vigilante jumped out of the shadows, throwing a batarang at the chamber of the gun, blocking the shot.

"Gah!" Two-Face yelled out in frustration, "You little brat!" The man spun around, failing his gun about - trying to land a hit on Robin, who easily dodged all of the attempts.

You on the other hand, were fighting a losing battle. You had successfully gotten Roy away from the women and were now on his back, trying to get a grip on his neck.

The man was big, much bigger than you - maybe even stronger. But you were more agile, and were able to block most of his hits.

You however, couldn't stop the goon sneaking up behind you until it was too late.

Red stained the front of your costume and you were thrown to the ground.

All the while Robin had long knocked out Two-Face, now his focus on getting the people to safety, that was until he heard the shot.

"Shadow, No!" He screamed. In his fit of rage, he charged the two goons, easily neutralizing both of them.

"Batman!" Damian said into the coms, "The Shadow has been shot. Everyone else is neutralized and tied up. I need the batmobile."

His father gritted his teeth, "I thought I said not to instigate."

Damian was in disbelief, did he really wish to start this argument now? "I didn't. The shadow did, who by the way, Batman - was shot. I need help urgently."

"On my way." Bruce answered. "Until I'm there, do not let them sleep. How bad is the wound?"

Damian looked over to your bleeding form, "Bad enough." He then added, "But not fatal."

As you were bleeding out, you couldn't help internally scolding yourself. How did I not hear him? You thought, Now I am never going to make it back in time. Even through your haze of pain, all you could think about was making sure Damian, though he stood in front of you, never found out.

Damian came into your peripheral view and he reached out to you, cradling your head in his lap. "Shadow can you hear me?"

You nodded, giving out a pained laugh, "I'm not dead yet D-Robin. Of course I can hear you."

Yet. Damian's body clenched at the notion that you were going to die. "You are not dying. Not on my watch, (Y/N)." He said forcefully.

Your eyes widened, He found out. He's going to kill me before this bullet does.

"Damain I- How'd you know?"

He gave a light chuckle at your surprised face, "Beloved, You're the only one who calls me bird brain. How would I not know it to be you?"

You shrugged, accepting your stupidity of trying to fool the world's best detective's son then winced in pain, "I guess you're right..." Then, "So, then this means the end of vigilantism." You said solemnly.

The boy shook his head, dismissing your thought. "No. You're an excellent fighter (Y/N). Hell, you've bested me a few times prior. Though I'm not fond of 'the Shadow' per say, I am fond of you and I will not stop you from doing what you wish."

Smiling weakly you have Damians hand a comforting squeeze. "From now on though, I'll take your lead, don't feel like getting shot again."

The other teen nodded. "Yes. This experience was far from enjoyable."

#damian wayne #older!damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #older!damian wayne x reader #older! damian wayne x reader #robin #robin x reader #batfamily #batman x reader #batfamily imagine #batman imagine #batman

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Stories, Tales & Facts (Part 1.) (Sriracha, Part 36.)

Series description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Hopper was about to speak up about his past - from where his trouble had started to where it ended just before few weeks. But you didn‘t know how much shit he was through.

A/N: Let‘s face it. This chapter contains huge spoilers for Hopper‘s which is completely named in novel Darkness on the Edge of Town. So it should be at least partially cannonical.

Word count: 3.8 K

Tagging:  @nemodoren​, @creedslove​, @missdictatorme, @ysljordy​

Master list: H E R E

The next morning, you had woken up pretty early in the morning. At least, you fell asleep - Hopper was awake the whole time, just staring into the ceiling before he got out of the bed to eat something, make you a coffee and breakfast. Which made you smile a bit. He was still as thoughtful as he was before.

But you didn‘t even let him take a short breath before you asked the first question of the day.

“So, you said there‘s a lot.” - You mumbled and gave him a look as you sat down, gently pulling a bit away from him. - “That means you have to start from the beginning. Every tale has a beginning, the middle, and an end. Do you understand that friends don‘t lie?” - You asked Eleven‘s most favorite sentence. This sentence was bugging Jim off a lot back in the day. When you told him the sentence, you made him feel a bit better. It was a thing so known and nice.

“If you want to start from the beginnin‘ of my trouble, we will go way down back to the sixties.” -  Hopper told you honestly. At that, you chuckled.

“Jim, I already know that you were in Vietnam. That isn‘t anything new.” - You told him ironically. At that, he looked into your face.

“You know that I was there once. Wrong. I was there twice. The first time, it was in ‘62.” - Jim told you straight in your face. At that, your breath hitched in your throat. He was... Eighteen. He was fucking eighteen when he first was transported to that hell. - “And for your information, I went there voluntarily. Nobody asked me to go.”

You were looking him into the eyes. The questions in your eyes were completely vivid. Your lips were just opening and closing as you tried to tell him something back, but nothing hit your tongue.

“You don‘t understand how was it like in here back in the sixties. I didn‘t know what to do here, I was kinda... Lost. You‘re a psychologist, you should know what I was feelin‘. I wanted to feel like I‘m useful, not like I‘m just spendin‘ my life in the biggest asshole in the USA.”

“Then I went back for turnus number two in ‘68. After that, I met Diane. And believe or not, I was really happy with her. Not too long ago, in ‘71, Sara was born. And we left for New York, but you already know what I‘ve been doin‘ in there.” - He said without explaining to you any further.

Yeah, you‘ve heard that story already. How he was the big detective in Brooklyn‘s sixty-fifth district and how he went after something he called the card-murders, He almost killed a man back then. After that, Sara had died and Diane left him. Except for the Vietnam news, you hadn‘t known about any of that, you knew about everything. But the biggest shockers were just coming your way.

“I was hurt. Hurt. And then you came by and for a small while, everything seemed to be right. I felt good about myself for a time. That was when Will Byers disappeared." - Hopper took a deep breath, giving you a look. - "Promise me that no matter how crazy everythin' seems to be, you'll believe me. I won't ever make up anythin' like this. You promise?"

That was when you got quiet again, only drinking coffee while eating the mashed eggs he had prepared you. - "Friends don't lie. Tell me and we'll see how crazy this seems to be."

So Hopper did as you wished and told you about the November of '83. About Eleven, Papa, and the Lab. He didn't leave out a single detail. Jim didn't leave out any gore, he told you all about what Eleven can do, which was the first thing you weren't able to come around.

"Jim, she's a normal kid. I had raised my daughter for more than just a week. If there would be any red flags, believe me, I would notice." - You said a bit more aggressively than you anticipated. But you were sure that Jim is just fucking around with.

“You remember that one time we had a fight in the cabin and I fell flat on my ass? You thought I just lost balance.” - He told you rather seriously and you uncomfortably shifted into a different position. How would you be able to forget that argument? You were yelling, screaming, crying that night until Eleven came out of her room. - “Blood was drippin' out of her nose, which made you worried, remember?” - Jim whispered and you needed to look away for a second. You haven't noticed a single weird thing about your baby, she was just a normal, twelve-year-old girl when you met. But it all checked in, according to what Jim had told you.

After that, Jim proceeded to another part of the story - explaining why Will was getting worse and worse (that was because of a thing called the Mind Flayer), which you had noticed, what happened with the veins under Hawkins, the Demodogs, what Steve Harrington did which resulted in him and children being best friends, which you also knew. In detail, Jim described what happened underneath the Lab and that Eleven went to see Terry Ives, her biological mother. In the middle of the story, you had to take a short break to think about everything and to have another cup of coffee.

You started crying when you finally got to know what even happened to Joyce's Bob. You didn't believe a thing Jim said, it was so surreal, but you finally got an explanation. It didn't mean that the explanation would make you satisfied, but it was a piece of information with which you could fill the blanks you had in your head. He was eaten by some fucking Demogorgons, whatever that thing was. You had an idea of how did the monster look - once, you played D&D with the kids and something like that was in the game.

And when the Russians came to play, you couldn't understand anything anymore. You were just sitting there, listening to Hopper talking about Starcourt mall being invested with Russians living in an underground base. At the same time, the Mind Flayer got Billy Hargrove, that son of a snake who was Max's brother. It was literally - Mind Flayer got him. Because of the beast, the boy was dead. Jim didn't know that Billy was dead, but then you told him with a terrified expression.

When Jim finished Billy's part of the story, he proceeded to tell you what happened to him. The events happened to both you had met at one point - the moment when Eleven got out of the mall. Each one of you was there - you were hugging El in front of the mall while Jim and Joyce were trying to blow up the massive generator under Starcourt. That was the moment he had presumably died. That was something which Dr. Owens had come up with since they didn't find a single clue that Hopper had died in the generator room. For Hopper to have some time to catch some breath, Owens had decided to pronounce Hopper dead for the time they were searching for him - he found himself being in Russia, working in a gulag. He told you about how he had got out and contented Owens again, Sam helping him back into Indiana so Hopper could start a search for you once again. And because he was in such mental and physical state when he came back, he was taking Tuinal again.

You were back to the square one. Hopper was taking drugs, he was a stranger and on top of that, he was lying to you for almost three years in a row, which was quite impressive. You were slowly getting fed up and mad when you realized that three years, basically thirty-six months, every time something unnatural happened, every time some monster appeared, he figured out some lie to tell you. He was wrapping you in a silver lining after silver lining, again and again. Which had blown you away.

It was almost midday when he had finished - you were preparing some lunch so Hopper would have to eat something. You were just cooking some meat with vegetables, while Hopper let you get your mind sorted.

"I think that the drugs made something to your brain, Jim." - You snorted all of a sudden. It was one of your typical, ironical snorts. You put the potatoes into the oven, put your elbows over your chest, and looked at him. - "Because a single word of what you've said... These are all illusions and hallucinations. If you plotted all of this the six months you were God knows where it's really impressive. Hands down to you, my dude, you got me in the first half."

Jim looked at you. You weren't even crying. But... You cried when he told you what happened to Bob, you believed him, right? If you wouldn't believe him, why would you cry?

"And bringing almost everyone into that, the kids, Joyce, Steve, Bob, Powell, and Callahan... Dear Lord, you even put it onto a precise timeline. You are sitting here, in front of me, looking me dead in the eyes, telling me... All of this, expecting me to believe. Oh, God, James Hopper. You have disappointed me." - You put your palms on your hips, turning away from him with a burst of unbelieving laughter.

"You don't believe me? Fine, let's visit Mike and ask him. Ask Harrington about it. Even that Henderson boy would tell you that this is the truth. Not enough? Fine, Imma take you to the Lab. I will show you everything. Imma ask Nancy Wheeler to give me the photos of Demogorgon." - Hopper stood up in front of you, having his faces just inches from yours. His face was deadly serious and for a second, you thought about if you had poked some sensitive spot or what did you even do. You thought he went mental in the last six months.

"I hadn't told you because the government would be after you and if somethin' happened to you or her... I mean... Anythin'... How would someone like me even come across losing his loved ones? Once again?" - He took your shoulder to his palms, making you look into his eyes.

"In New York, a special agent of a secret state organization named Gallup showed me, how easy is for someone to disappear in a manner of an afternoon. And I'm sure that he would make Diane and Sara disappear the same, just as he told me he would in case I wouldn't want to cooperate with them in the Card murders case." - Hopper shook your shoulders, making you furrow a little.

James wasn't aggressive at that moment, no, he was just making you listen. And not just to register information that was coming out of his mouth. He wanted you to listen to what he was saying with the tone of his voice. It was really important for you to understand. But he was shaking your body as if you were a rag doll.

"And I know that if I would tell you a single thing of what have I told you just now, they would make you disappear, maybe they would deport you into the Russian hell I was in, they would get rid of you just like that." - One of his fingers snapped, making you even more scared than before. Your heard was pounding loud and quick, you almost didn't hear a word he had told you.

Was he serious? Was some secret state services spying on you and him, on your home, even your family perhaps? You haven't noticed a thing. Nobody ever had followed you, your phone wasn't monitored, there weren't any weird guys or women in your neighborhood. Ever. But... Jim seemed kinda serious, which made you gasp for air.

"I couldn't do that because I love you. And trust me, Tuinal didn't cause any of the things I've just told you. I'm not shittin' you, I'm not sayin' weird shit, it's just how it is." - Jim slowly let go of you, letting you step away from him as you started to panic again, covering your mouth with your palm. It wasn't the usual panic attack, this was... You were horrified.

It was hard to believe since what he had told was straightaway King-novel fanfiction shit. Hardcore eighties sci-fi and horror at its best. But... What would you do if Hopper had a chance to prove each of his points? What would you do then?

A fucking creature from which crawled another dimension was getting your girl, who had telepathic abilities by the way, and her friends in danger. And your fiancé was there both times, trying to keep your world and family safe.

"Look at this from my point of view, Jim. This is... Wild. This is more than fucking wild. Even if it would be a work of your imagination, which would be kinda incredible when I think about your imagination, it still would be wild. But you told me that there is... Proof, right? You can show me, that what you said?" - You asked again, pushing him away from the stove to continue with cooking the lunch.

"It is slightly illegal and can be called a trespassin', but I can show you everythin'." - Jim nodded and lit up a cigarette, taking one out of the pack you had there. You knew that you'd have to open up the window since both your mom and your dad were non-smokers. They wouldn't be very glad if they'd somehow find out that you or James smoked inside.

"I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and I'm willing to go there... Whenever your damn Lab even is. But if it turns out to be all just one big lie, I swear to God, Jim. You're on thin fucking ice and if that ice breaks under you..." - You rose your eyebrows, looking out of the window. Jesus, you were torn apart into two halves - one wanted to believe him, you wanted to believe Jim so, so, so fucking bad. You were still in love with him, which was undeniable.

In the end, you lived together for... About two years? You couldn't even count it since Hopper was disappearing rather frequently and was gone... For sometimes a week, something three months, sometimes half a year. It was hard to establish how much time from those three years, two and a half years specifically, you had a normal relationship. Were you even in that phase? In the phase of having a normal relationship?

The other half inside of you was fucking sure that Jim had gone insane. Because using shit from D&D, tying up all the people you knew into the story, telling you that it always happened only when you weren't around... Jesus fucking Christ. You took in another deep breath and lit up a cigarette too, trying to keep your head straight. You were shaking. Your muscles were spasming and letting go at a pace so fast that your body was burning up.

After serving Jim the lunch, you both dressed up to be at least warm and able to move in the winter outside. Jim had taken your dad's splitters along with an old flashlight and put them on the backseat while he made you sit behind the steering wheel. You were a bit nervous, which was leveling up adequately with your inability to start the car.

"God fucking damn it, this dumb old car, I swear." - You mumbled under your breath when the engine didn't want to start working. Without further ado, Jim got off the car and opened up the hood, looking inside of it. He still had the same expression had when he was trying to start your car. Your car was a moody machine, especially in winter. Hopper breathed out a bit of fog on his fingers, trying to warm them up before he started to play with the cables.

"Kick it." - He looked at you with his eyebrows risen. You did as you were told and turned the engine key, making the engine yell loudly. You would be lost in the winter when it wouldn't be for Jim. Nobody except him and your dad had the skill to start that old crap. Jim sat back to you with a shit-eating grin, making you grin as well.

You were driving while he was telling you where to take a turn and where you should drive in the woods. Not too long after that, you were parking the car near an old facility which seemed to be empty and abandoned for quite some time. The snow was reaching up to your waist and thighs, so it was quite hard to even get in front of the Lab. The glass door were shattered, from squatters or someone like that you assumed, so getting wasn't too much trouble either.

That was when you saw it - blood on the ground and walls. That made you cover up your mouth and hope that you won't throw up.

"That's where Bob had died. Owens had to leave the place so quickly they barely packed everythin'." - Jim said behind you quietly in a mourning voice. That made you stand up. There was no body, but the tracks of blood, even if someone was trying to cover them up with paint, were still visible. - "You doin' good?" - His palm gently patted and then smoothed your back, making you a bit more comfortable. Tears were coming up to your eyes again when you watched the spot.

As you told, you didn't know Bob that well - you knew that man only from Jim's and Joyce's stories and from meeting him less than five times. But the man was a genuine good person. That was why you were so fucking moved by seeing the exact spot where he... Passed away. Or where he was eaten to death. Dear God.

When you nodded, Jim took you further into the facility. The windows were shattered so the ice-cold winter evening wind was howling through there, the walls were graffitied, but to your surprise, some of the lights were still working.

Documents marked as super-secret were scattered in the ground, even if most of the text was blacked with a marker. There was a lot of equipment left behind, medical and research tools just scattered around on the ground and in the empty rooms. Jim really meant what he told you; the government basically made Owens clear the building in two days - which was why there was all the stuff still here. Owens only packed the necessities, pushed them into three loaded military trucks and left the place as if nothing ever happened there. Or that was at least what Murray was telling.

It maybe was looking scary, but it still wasn't anything unusual. It was just the vibe of the place that was off. Until you tripped over something. Before you fell into the ground, Jim caught you, but your eyes widened in realization. You tripped over a pile of bones. Something had died and rotted there.

But it was too small to be an adult human bones. First, when you squated, took a paper from the ground to cover your fingers, you thought that maybe it could be bones of a child. But when you picked one up and looked at it closely, your breath hitched once again. Back in your day on highschool, you studied medicine and anatomy a lot, since you didn't know if you want to be a normal doctor or a psychologist when you grow up. You liked to have a back up plan and medicine was quite interesting as well. So you knew how human bones should look like; you once even saw some.

But that structure, shape, the color... Nothing seemed to be even close to how should human bones look like. First, you thought that maybe, it could be some animal bones of an nimal which was dragged there or tried to escape to safety - you would be sure since veterinary medicine wasn't really you thing.

Then you noticed it. It just hit your eyes - small spikes on the bones. You knew that birds had their bone structure practically full so they could fly... But an animal with spikes on their bones? No. Any known animal had spikes on its bones as far as you were informed.

"This... Jim..." - You gasped for air and put the bone back on the pile. Slowly, the things he told you about Bob, these Demogorgons and shit... It seemed to be more and more real with each passing second.

"We ain't endin' here." - Jim told you and led even further into the facility; specifically under it. You needed to take a few staircases which were quite long, but you were at least one or two levels under the surface of land. The door was locked with a chip reader, so Hopper just broke in after a few tries.

That was where the shit got wild. Some lights were working, some were just lighting up just to go dark in the next second, flickering and making the atmosphere darker and darker.

You were in something that could be called an observation station with a few machines. There was a monitor that was showing something when it was working, a lot of buttons and a microphone. A wheelchair was thrown on the ground just few feet away from you. The place was giving you chills.

On your left, something like a decontamination chamber could be seen, the automatic door now being opened and not powered by the electric circuit.

"Where are we, James?" - You asked in a whisper, being really unnerved at that second. Jim didn't respond, the only thing he did was that he walked further in.

So you followed him.

#jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x reader #james jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things hopper #stranger things netflix #jim hopper stranger things #eleven hopper #hawkins lab #hawkins #hawkins indiana #sriracha

[magicianapprenticelyra]

Q: ✨ If your OC were a deity of some kind, what would they represent? What do they look like? How are they worshiped and what offerings would they expect? What are their places of worship like? Their followers? Their teachings?

@vesuvianoak sent in this ask, and then helped that ask helped to get the ball rolling on the following.

Lyra, as a Goddess, would be known with the following epithets:

The Great Librarian; The Patron Goddess of Literature and Folktales; Our Weeping Lady of Ink; Patroness of Crossroads, Storytellers and Difficult Paths; The Ink Lobber; Guardian of Written Works; Exalter of Spoken Words; The Humble Archivist of the Muses

Traditional Warning/Cautionary Rhyme: "Be aware of the Great Librarian's tastes, for if you should violate them and are a writer there is no other curse so great.”

What she represents: Think of her as the librarian of the pantheon she’s situated in. Most myths are claimed to have been recorded by her, and then sent down into the minds of her oracles and/or great storytellers elsewhere. Differing retellings of all the myths, tales and legends are an often occurrence. No one story is a wrong story in the public; it just depends on the tastes of the region and the times they crop up in.

Depictions: With her statues, Lyra is dressed elegantly in either áo dài-like attire, or the region’s simpler day-to-day attire.

Her statues would be carved from obsidian, having silver plating or having silver-esque paint over and/or around her eye(lid)s. Her eyes themselves are either opened or closed, depending on what the artists are depicting her doing. In one of her hands is a stack of parchment, with lines of text. In her other hand is a book or a sort of writing tool [be it a stick of charcoal, a pen, or an inkwell with a feathered quill coming out of it]

Her motifs in more tragic tales typically show her face dripping silver ink and/or paint coming from her eyes or from the bottom of her eyelids. 

How She’s Paid Respects: In each region there is only one ‘big’ temple dedicated to her. All the regions argue where which of their locations came first, but somehow all the buildings were erected at about the same time.

If a place of worship is not within those temples, if depicting her in statuette form, they can be no bigger than the standard size of a person. Any massive monuments dedicated to her, outside of the one temple dedicated to her in each region, have always come across bad luck. Examples include walls shattering to pieces in the initial stages of construction, the land intended for use eventually becoming unsuitable to place a foundation on, ink on construction plans becoming illegible or the charcoal getting smeared, and so on.

Have you ever seen the Little Libraries people make? It’s like a birdhouse for books on their front lawns or in front of several different locations? A take a book, leave a book situation? That can be a little altar or a way to pay tribute to her. She is big on literacy (especially in modern times), after all.

Rule of thumb: she prefers small monuments, or a small place on people’s personal altars. Mini statuettes of her are popular among literary students to have on their desks as they write.

Types of Offerings: They can be dollops of ink on some parchment {so long as said parchment isn’t too ratty/been previously scribbled on before, it is fine}, personally decorated bookmarks, stamps… basically most stationary artfully created in her honor is enough of a tribute. Several of the temples dedicated to her have a whole floor dedicated to displaying all sorts of offerings.

If you're feeling truly brave, slip some book suggestions into a ceremonial pyre in her honor. If she really likes the suggestion, one will be blessed with either literary creativity or you may stumble upon a tale/book/story that will stick with you for the rest of your life. If she doesn't but is thankful for the suggestion, a book or a spoken tale will nudge you to another story within your preferred genre(s). If she is displeased, all your ink will get everywhere you don’t want it to be. How bad the ink will stain varies, as well as how long.

[Someone sent her something of a poor draft of an extremely graphic erotica once. The offerer was cursed for about a year with ink stains on EVERYTHING and EVERYWHERE INCONVENIENT.]

Basically, don't send her porn. Don't make any art of her in the erotic lenses either.

Additionally, if any attempts are made to do so with the myths she is said to have had relationships with people and/or celestial entities it'll disappear eventually in some way, somehow.

Offerings by children are always accepted. Seriously, if there is such a thing as a refrigerator on the celestial planes, she's got oodles of doors full of all the drawings kids have done for her.

Her Followers: Lyra is one of the few among the pantheon she is a part of that isn’t exactly an organized religion [I am not so sure about how religions focused on a deity within a pantheon works overall, but she’s more of a celestial entity than an actual religious figure(?)]. Still, at each temple, there is a Head Oracle that orates many of her stories. Their subordinates are typically librarians-in training or are experts in various literary genres within the region. They don't have to be explicit followers of her, but having the love of stories, treasuring them, and keeping them safe is just a few of the mandates in paying her due respect.

What Angers Her/What Manifests in Her Rage On the Physical Plane

Book burnings are what incite her wrath the most; seriously don't do it unless you really want her to make an appearance with divine fury. Any ink in the vicinity becomes more acrid and chemical and will come to a dangerous boil. The boiling ink eventually gives way to exploding and doing some serious damage to people.

One written record of an organizer orchestrating a book burning years ago states that they gained boils not long after committing the heinous act. The pus that was embedded under their skin somehow also contained hardened, sharp flecks of ink mixed in as well. They died a painful death from the infections.

Do not disrespect a book. Even if you heavily disagree with the contents within the book itself, do not disrespect it. There have been stories of the books coming to life and chasing the culprit until they apologize to the book in question.

The longest any person got without apologizing to the offended text went across three continents; the book had worn itself out by then. The criminal thought they were safe, until they got paid a visit from the goddess herself in their dreams.

When they woke up they were covered in inky burns roughly in the shape of the base of their inkwell. They had to pay a penance in the nearest temple in her honor for about seven years until the burns went away.

Oddly enough she does not mind if you annotate in books or dog-ear the pages.

This is as much as my brain can handle with this AU at the moment. If you wanna know more, just send some asks! :D

(thank you @fire-fira for the cautionary rhyme in the beginning of the post, @sunrisenfool of the addendum to the epithet after Our Weeping Lady of Ink, and to all the people across a number of discord servers that helped me to put all this together. Thanks so much you guys!)

#The Arcana #fan apprentice #AUs #Celestial Sanctum AU #magicianapprenticelyra

[artificialqueens]

And So We Run (ch.5) - Traumathicc

A/N: Here’s what was supposed to be the rest of chapter 4! I really hate tumblr sometimes.

”GaaaAAAHAAAH-”

”Try to stay quiet-”

”AaaaaAAAAAOOOW-”

”-Try to stay quiet, PLEASE.”

”But you’re hurdinnh meeeeeeEEEH-”

”-SHHH! Calm down! The wound isn’t even that deep!”

”You’re just saying thaAHAA-”

That’s it. She has no choice anymore. Adore takes one of the spare rags and stuffs it into Willam’s mouth. She can’t risk them getting discovered again. Besides, it’s getting dark, which means it’s easier for a assailant to sneak up on them.

”I’m sorry, but you’re making too much noise. I’m almost done though, don’t worry.”

Willam gives off a muffled whimper as Adore dabs another piece of fabric in the remainder of one of the bottles. She presses it against Willam’s arm, wiping off the last of the dried blood around the wound. Willam bites down hard on the rag, but she manages to stay quiet this time.

Adore then proceeds to wrap the fabric around the wound like a bandage.

”There! That should do it!”

Willam gets up from the log immediately and pulls the rag out of her mouth. She dry heaves a few times, spits dramatically into a bush and throws it on the ground. Then she looks over at Adore.

”Thank you.”

She pauses and bites her lip.

”Y’know… that whole nurse mode you went into… was kinda hot…”

Adore’s face turns beet red in about 0.5 seconds. She manages to squeak out a ”Don’t mention it!” Before walking off to get the potato sack.

She picks up a potato and studies it thoughtfully. She realizes she has no idea what to do with them. Eat them raw? Out of the question. Just the thought is enough to make her heave. Maybe they could boil them? They have nothing to boil them in, and water is a precious resource. Well, if they want to cook them they could always just roast them. Adore picks up two spare sticks from the pile of spare firewood she gathered earlier and gives one to Willam.

“Put a potato on this and hold it over the fire.”

The minutes that follow are spent in relative silence. The potatoes are extremely tasteless, but Adore supposes flavor is a luxury now. She’s almost done roasting her third one when Willam suddenly speaks up.

“So… what’s your deal?”

“My what?”

“You still haven’t told me why you were crying when I found you. Something bad happened to you? I mean, aside from, y’know, the situation with the game.”

Adore takes a deep breath.

“I saw someone die today. Or, more like, heard someone die. I didn’t see it because I was hiding. But I was close. And I heard everything.”

Willam gives her a surprisingly soft look, followed by a small “Oh.”

“And do you know what the worst part was?” Adore didn’t really mean to continue but it’s like someone’s opened a faucet in her brain. “I couldn’t even do anything! Even if I wanted too… I was so scared I couldn’t move my body… And they were laughing… What kind of person laughs at death like that?!”

“Alaska.”

Adore almost jumps at the sudden seriousness in Willam’s voice.

”Well, not really” Willam continues. ”She’s always taken her… craft, very seriously. But she does tend to surround herself with people that are just in it for sport. They’re all pawns, of course, poor things. Though I can’t really say I feel that sorry for any of them…”

Adore doesn’t say anything. There’s something strangely profound about this new side of Willam.

”Alaska cares about one thing and one thing only. Winning. She and the people who shaped her into the White Reaper will do anything to ensure her victory in the games. It’s kind of why a nobody like me was chosen as her partner.”

”You didn’t train with Alaska?”

Willam laughs bitterly.

”No, no, no. The higher ups back home were cranky about the fact that there always has to be two girls from each district. And since they didn’t want anyone to outshine their rising star they handpicked me from one of the tent slums in the outskirts of the city. Y’know, near the diamond mines? Yeah. As you can probably imagine, it’s not like I had any other choice, I have no family and was practically living on the street. I guess they figured I’d bite it pretty quickly and that’d be the end of it.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Why? It’s not like I was living it up or anything. Plus, this game does have its benefits. Like free booze, excellent food and-“ She gives Adore a wink. “- Extraordinary company!”

Adore laughs. “You sound like you’re from the capitol!”

“They made me practice A LOT.”

“High districts and their finery, I suppose.”

“Where are you from, anyway?”

“District 11”

“Holy shit! Then maybe we aren’t so different?”

“Hey! I had a house! And a mom… and friends…”

The burning behind Adore’s eyes is coming back. At least sob stories make for good television.

“What if I never see them again? If Alaska really is that dangerous… oh god, what if she finds Laganja before I do?”

The possibility had never even crossed Adore’s mind until now. She can practically feel the color draining from her face.

“Wait, hold on, who’s Laganja?”

“She’s my part- my friend. She’s the other 11. I haven’t seen her since the bloodbath… fuck what if she-“

“Shhhhhhshhshhhhhh~” Willam grabs her arms. “Calm down. Take deep breaths. That ceremony thing is soon, right? Now, I can’t guarantee that she won’t be up there, but there’s a greater chance that she isn’t!”

Adore feels tears hitting the back of her hands. The minute spent on that podium was one of the most horrifying things she’s ever been through. She remembers standing there wanting nothing more than to live.

She just wanted them all to live.

Why did she tell Laganja to run away from her? She’s not a coward, with Adore’s help, surely she could hold her own in a fight against most of the others.

Then she remembers the slash. The gurgles. The screams. The laughter.

Maybe there was no other choice?

“-dore? Adore? A d o r e??”

She’s suddenly jolted back into reality by a hushed “It’s starting now!” From Willam.

She forces herself to look up at the sky.

~FALLEN TRIBUTES~

The hologram is white and glittery, and accompanied by the capitol anthem. Then it bursts and proceeds to rain down on the arena like snow.

Then the pictures.

A tall girl with short, silver blonde hair and a surprised expression standing against a silver frame and the name MAX MALANAPHY in the same white snowletters.

Adore finds herself taking Willam’s hand.

TRIXIE MATTEL.

A bundle of pink and blonde with a big smile and huge round glasses.

SHARON NEEDLES.

An unnaturally pale girl with black, wavy hair and glowing contacts.

JADE JOLIE.

A know-it-all smile clad in jewelry and a jacket with way too many buttons.

Then the hologram bursts again and the music fades out.

Adore almost collapses against the log in relief.

Her and Willam fall asleep together that night. Adore dreams about a clearing in the woods, a bouquet of hepatica and a blue eyed smile.

She’s alone again when she wakes up.

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #willam belli #laganja estranja #alaska thunderfuck #max malanaphy #trixie mattel #sharon needles #jade jolie #adore x lajanga #adore x willam #hunger games au #cisgirl au #and so we run #rare pair #traumathicc #tw blood #tw death

[dowagerintraining]

Fanfiction: QE does Hogwarts

I hope, I pray, that if this does come across their attention, that none of the QE Fab Five will take offence to being immortalised in my little fanfic for Harry Potter. Guys, if you do object, by all means get in touch and say so. But it really was just for the lols and written with love. 

I can’t put this on ffnet, because one of their rules about stories is not to use any ‘real’ people in your stories. So I am going to post it on tumblr instead. I hope people enjoy it. 

If you don’t, you know where the door is. 

--

The Fab Five from QE are brought to London for an extra special UK episode. They are used to having weeks where they change lives. They’re in for a week which will change theirs too. A headmaster has nominated his old friend and long time colleague for a makeover. There’s just a few problems. 1) He teaches at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and 2) he’s currently in 1995... 

“Oh my God oh my god oh my god, this place is just soooo amazing! I mean it’s so old, really old, and you know I never use looking old as a complement but this city is just owning the looking old thing…”

Karamo smiles to himself as Jonathan goes into autowitter in the background. Tan drives ahead, focusing on the road, the only member of the Fab Five permitted to drive in London traffic, as he learned to drive on what the rest of them refer to as the ‘wrong side of the road’.

He has to admit though, London sure is pretty. There are streets here which are older than anything he’s ever seen in the southern states of America. It’s like driving around a movie set, you half expect people in frock coats to come around the corner at any moment in horses and carriages.

“So who are we doing for this ultra special UK makeover?”

The cheering ripples throughout the car as Karamo pulls out the folder. This application arrived in style, written in green ink on old parchment, with an immaculate hand drawn pencil sketch of the person who had been nominated.

“OK, so, our next guest is a Professor.”

The cheers from the back of the car intensify.

“A Professor? What, like at Oxford or something?”

“No, no, not at University, he’s a school teacher. But I don’t have the name of the school here, so I can’t see what subject. He’s been in the position for more than twenty years, and has been nominated by his boss.”

“So what’s the dude’s name?”

“Professor Filius Flitwick.”

There’s a moment of silence. None of them have ever heard a name like it before.

“Ok…” Jonathan tilts his head to one side like an inquisitive bird, turning to share a glance with Bobby, who pulls a confused grimace with high eyebrows. “So … Phil, then…”

“I guess we can go with Phil, we’ll ask when we meet him.”

“So who’s his Boss?”

“Professor Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore.”

“Oh my Gaaaad,” Bobby rubs his forehead, “You just have to love how the British do their names.” 

“Well, apparently Filius, or Phil, is turning sixty five this year, he’s been working at the school for over twenty years, and he’s an amazing teacher, the students love him and he’s been very successful. It says here is a boarding school, so the school is pretty much Phil’s life’s work. He adores his job, but Albus is aware that he has had no time to spend on himself, and his appearance makes him look a lot older than he actually is.”

“Ahhhh, poor baby. We all know teachers work too hard,”  Antoni is full of sympathy.

“Have we got a photograph, Karamo.”

“We’ve got a sketch…” Karamo hands back the immaculate pencil drawing.

“Oh wow…”

“Um…”

“Yeah…”

Tan’s interest is piqued. He’s never heard the three in the back seat reduced to silence so swiftly. Spotting a parking space to the side of the road, he indicates and pulls in.

“Alright, this I have to see … hand it over…”

Like the others, he is stunned into silence. Firstly because the picture is a masterpiece. He’d almost swear it was alive, it could nearly live and breathe. But secondly, Filius doesn’t look sixty five. He looks closer to one hundred and sixty five. His face is obscured behind an enormous and wizened old beard. His mustache had grown out and merged with the beard, and his face, which was framed by hair which had to be snowy white, was so lined and wrinkled that he looked ancient. A pair of old fashioned half moon spectacles were perched on the edge of his nose. He was dressed in what looked to Tan liked a dressing gown, the sheen of which appeared to be worn velvet, the sort usually seen on the curtains in old school halls. Perched on his head was a bent pointy hat, which seemed to be the same material as his clothing.

“I … “ Tan passed a hand over his face. “I can’t tell, because it’s a drawing obviously, but … does this guy look a little, short? To any of you?”

“I was thinking that,” Bobby said seriously. “It might just be the drawing, but … he looks like he might be a dwarf. Like, he might be an actual dwarf. Like, what’s that actor? The famous one in Game Of Thrones…”

“Peter Dinklage!”

“Yes! That’s it exactly, like him.”

“So … we need to tread carefully here then.”

“But are we not going to talk about the rest?” Jonathan’s voice is shrill with confusion and something approaching outrage. “How on earth does this guy look so old? I mean, sixty is not old. Not these days. Not when you look at someone as dreamy as George Clooney.”

“Well,” Karamo struggles to be fair, “It’s like Antoni said. Teachers work hard, and if he’s teaching at a boarding school, he might not have time to take care of himself.”

“Where is the school, anyway?”

“It doesn’t say, but the headmaster, Albus, is going to meet us in London. Perhaps he lives here during the holidays.”

“Where are we meeting him?”

“The directions are a little confused, but he says to come to King’s Cross Station, and he’ll meet us between platform 8 and 9.”

“Ok, Karamo, are we sure this isn’t production playing a prank on us? We’re not going to end up being mocked on some late night show are we?”

“No, I talked to them, they absolutely swear it’s a real gig, but they are as confused as us. But you know, they’re always looking to include a more diverse range of guests on the show, and the money finally got sorted for us to do a UK special…”

Tan starts up the car and indicates, pulling out into traffic once more. “OK, well, we’re not far from King’s Cross, so we’ll stick the car in short term parking and go pick up Albus.”

“What do you think is with those clothes Tan?”

“Well, maybe it was a dress up day at school or something, the guy looks like some kind of wizard.”

The guys all chuckle, as Antoni and Bobby start exchanging stories about their favourite high school teachers, and the ones who definitely needed to have some kind of makeover. Karamo smiles to himself and listens without a quarter of his brain, as he scans through the flimsy file. There’s not a lot to go on, but maybe Albus can shed some more light on the matter. He’s heard that the British are a lot more reserved, so maybe the guy is just shy, and Albus doesn’t want to hand over too much incriminating evidence to embarrass his friend. That does happen from time to time, and it’s often lead to some of the most fun experiences they’ve had, helping people to blossom and come out of their shells.

“OK, everyone, we’re here!”

Parked up and car secured, the five friends head over to King’s Cross station. Jonathan skips, having overcome his jet lag considerably more quickly than most of the others. He causes a slight stir as the staid and conventional British commuters turn to see which tourist is causing all the commotion.

He doesn’t have the attention to himself for long however. There’s a far more eccentric personality standing on platform 8 who is drawing open mouthed stares from everyone around him.

“Oh my good lordy lord, who on earth is that?”

“Karamo, is that…”

“Do you think…”

“Oh my God…”

“Excuse me, are you … Mr Dumbledore?”

The man is tall, with long flowing clothes which could only be described as robes, of rich scarlet, which hang down to his ankles. His hair is silver white, reading down below his belt, and a tall pointed purple hat is perched on his head, similar to the one Filius was wearing in his portrait, only without the bend in the middle. Tan finds himself remembering snatches of a poem about an old woman, wearing purple, with a red hat, which doesn’t go, but all of those recollections flee from his mind when Albus turns to greet them.

His beard, as impressive as his hair, hangs down past his waist, and is tucked neatly into his belt. His eyes are so blue, they stand out from his face like chips of best bone china, and his smile dominates his face, which is impressive considering the impact of all the white hair. He stands with his arms wide open.

“My friends! My dear good friends, thank you for coming all this way to help an old man sort out his dear friend. I am indeed Albus Dumbledore.”

His voice is sonorous. Tan is reminded of a school trip to Stratford Upon Avon, to watch the RSC perform a Shakespeare play. He thought that only classically trained stage actors could ever speak so perfectly and so correctly.  He looks across at Jonathan, who he suspects has fallen head over heels in love at first sight with this imposing, impressive man who is absolutely in command of himself and comfortable in his delightful eccentric self.

Karamo, the first to recover, extends a hand for a hearty shake and begins the round of introductions. His experience of being the big, black, southern queer has given him a deep respect for those who stand out and proud in their difference, and an ability to take anyone at face value regardless of how the present themselves to the world.

“I cannot tell you what it means to me that you have all come so far, but I am afraid our journey is not over yet. We have a long way to go and in more ways than one.”

“So why are we meeting at Kings Cross, Albus? Is Filius here?”

“Oh, no no no, my good chap, he’s not here. We shall have to take a journey to go and see him. He’s up at the school, deep in preparation for the next year. The staff return a week before the students, to set everything to rights before everyone arrives.”

“Great, so where is the school?”

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you. But I can take you there.”

“Wait, what did you … I mean...?”

“Do not be perplexed Bobby. All will become clear. In the mean time, you will all need one of these.”

Albus is handing out tickets. But they don’t look anything like the train tickets that Tan remembers from when he lived in London. These aren’t small, orange and white striped cards. They are large, golden in colour, with immaculate copperplate writing. The destination is listed as ‘Hogsmeade’, and the platform is emblazoned across the front as ‘Platform 9 ¾ ‘

“Albus is this some kind of joke?”

“A Joke? Not at all Antoni. But I confess it will be a little confusing and will require some explanations as we go. But for now, we have a long journey to make. Could you all come with me please…

Albus leads them over to a wall between the platforms 8 and 9. He puts an arm around Jonathan, who is clearly delighted.

“Are you ready to go on an adventure dear boy?”

“With you Albus? Anywhere…!”

“Good, good, That’s good. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re scared.”

“Do what at a bit of a run?”

“This…”

Albus suddenly, forcefully takes Jonathan by the shoulders, turns him to face the wall, and shoves him towards the wall, hard and fast.

The others move to call out, remonstrate. Karamo has a vision flash before his eyes of Jonathan lying bleeding on the floor before them. Except he isn’t. In fact, he’s nowhere to be seen.

“What… what did you … where did he go?”

“He’s on the platform. Waiting for us.”

“On the platform. Beyond the wall.”

Karamo blinks, turns to the others, who can’t explain the very simple thing they just saw happen before their own eyes.

“Beyond the wall?” says Bobby.

Albus smiles. “Yes. Beyond the wall.”

Bobby suddenly turns. Looks at the wall. Before Antoni can reach out and stop him, he runs full tilt at the wall.

And suddenly, he vanishes. Nobody can quite explain how it happens. But now Bobby is gone too.

“Albus… is that wall real?”

“Absolutely read, my dear Tan.”

“Then how did?”

“Let me ask you this … do you believe that your friends are standing on the otherside?”

“... Yes.”

“Then you are half way to believing yourself. And therefore, half way there.”

Tan turns to Antoni and holds out a hand. He turns to Karamo, repeating the gesture.

“Yes yes, that’s good. Now. After three.”

The three men all link hands.

“All together now. One, two … three!”

Feeling like school children in a playground, all three of them, alongside Albus run full tilt at the wall …

*

Bobby just has time to pull Jonathan out of the way from his skipping and cavorting routine as Karamo, Tan and Antoni crash through the wall behind them.

“Oh my God, Oh my God… guys! GUYS! You have to see this…”

Suddenly Karamo finds himself being dragged bodily around a corner. A strange sound fills his ears, a puffing, almost like a wind blowing, before a shrieking whistle fills the air. Standing before him is a scarlet steam train, the sort that used to appear in the old wild west films, apart from its startling colour. In large golden lettering, the words ‘Hogwarts Express’ are boldly embossed across the front.

“Well gentlemen,” Albus strides ahead, throwing a gleaming smile over his shoulder as he checks and snaps shut an impressive golden pocket watch. “That’s our warning. The train is about to leave. We must make sure we are all aboard…”

#QE #Harry Potter #Fanfic #Hogwarts #Albus Dumbledore #Filius Flitwick #Crossover #Fanfiction #The Fab Five

[akaluan]

WIPs And Me

Hahahahahaha... ... hah... ha...

Okay so. I’m basically sitting down and taking an accounting of what I have in progress RIGHT NOW (as in have words written for) and then I’m going to try to prioritize things so that I actually get things done.

(Y’all can weigh in a bit on priority, but keep in mind that I’m probably going to be pretty firm about the rankings I initially pick.)

(Doing a cut cause this is huge)

(Also, permanent link to this list HERE. since I decided to turn it into an actual page that I can more easily update and not lose.)

Dragon Eclipse Verse WIPS

Dragon Eclipse itself. 100% S Ranked priority, top of my list, I’m working on this every weekend at the very least.

A Dragon Flaps Its Wings. Probably B-Ranked priority? I really do want DE main story done first.

Shattered Eclipse. E-Rank. I’m not thrilled about this verse, it’s hard to write, it hurts a lot, it deals with themes I’m not always capable of facing. Just... definitely not a priority to me. I’ll get it done eventually, because I’ve got nearly 10k words written for it, but... eck.

Dragon Eclipse Side-Stories: lots of these, lesgo:

Karakura Crew Viewpoint: S-Ranked, second only to DE itself. I’d like to get it caught up to current DE chapters soonish. I need to finish Uryuu’s viewpoint during the training, then a scene during dinner, the early morning discovery of jinzen, and the moment Kaito separates and what the others do after that point

Learning Shinigami Sealing: B-Ranked, I need to consider if this actually needs another part or not. It feels pretty good where it ended, but there’s other things I could add

Shiro + Sewing: B-Ranked, cute little scene, not very long, needs finishing. This one actually shouldn’t be too bad to finish off

Tatsuki Requests Training: A-Ranked, I really want to get this done and out. It’s already like 3500 words, but there’s a whole lot of stuff I’d like to cover in this side story, including the friendship that grows between Tatsuki and Kaito that eventually results in her calling him “Kai” during the xmas scene

Kaito Napping Around the Teens: D-Ranked, just a cute little scene that shows Kaito trusting the crew enough to fall asleep in their presence, and the things some of them notice. Not really a big deal, just something cute

Relaxing Together: A-Ranked, I want this scene done, it’s already basically done, I just need to find a good end point

Meeting Ryuuken: B-Ranked, not quite as high priority as the rest cause I haven’t posted any of this, but... this is Kaito meeting Ryuuken for the “first” time. It’s... not a particularly happy moment. I feel it’s important tho.

Kisuke Confronts Ryuuken: B-Ranked, follows from Meeting Ryuuken scene. It’s uh... Angry!father confronts Annoyed!Ryuuken, basically. Look Things Happen in the previous scene and Kisuke is Not Happy.

Kaito Discovers Kurotsuchi’s Death: C-Ranked, follows from Tiger Protects. I like this one, but as I haven’t posted any bit of it, not quite so high on my priority list.

Christmas Fluff: A-Ranked, I’d like this DONE. WHOOPS.

The Zanpakutou Rebellion: D-Ranked, there’s some important stuff going on in this one, but I need to know a bit more about how Kaito interacts with a few Shinigami before I can really focus on this, also it’s probably going to turn into a proper full story arc instead of just the “reveal who I was” oneshot that I posted

Dragon Wings/Dragon Eclipse AU Crossover: C-Ranked, super awesome, I love this so much, but it’s literally an AU that’s not canon at any point? It’s purely self-indulgent hilarity that’s turning into Deep And Meaningful Content and WHY IS THIS MY LIFE.

Shattered Eclipse Side-story, Outside Looking in: E-ranked, I need to be working on SE before I want to work on this one at all, since it’s Ryuuken and Isshin’s POV (currently, more chars might be added as I write) that follows SE.

Things Unrelated To The DEVerse

Unnamed Werewolf AU: A-Ranked, honestly. I’m really getting interested in writing this via all the reading I’ve been doing. Unfortunately this means I need to find a title, whoops

Our Attain[AB]le Dreams: B-Ranked, I love it to pieces, but I need to sit down and do it right if I’m going to continue this

Drunken Uryuu: A-Ranked, basically done, needs tidying up. Takes place before the crew gets teleported into the Nier: Automata world.

We’re Listening This Time: B-Ranked, I feel like this is going to end up being a long one, but I’d like to end NOEL on a happy note finally, for those who want a bit of optimism in their lives after me ripping their heart out in NOEL.

Soul Gifts AU: B-Ranked, I’m actually really interested in this too, especially since Tatsuki gets a major role in kicking ass and taking names.

It’s Only A Small Dragon: D-Ranked, I know this was a drunken oneshot I wrote, but the idea’s been festering a bit in the back of my head and I’ve been making a couple random notes here and there about it. It could be pretty fun.

Unnamed Epilogue Fix: D-Ranked, Uryuu goes mad-scientist and goes back in time because seriously screw the epilogue. Potentially very fun, but not a big deal to me at the moment since I have all of about 300 words written for it

Unnamed Kid!Fic: E-Ranked, Ichigo awakens as a Quincy at his mother’s death, Uryuu finds him, cue childhood friends who no one else realizes are friends.

Unnamed Theater Kid!Fic: E-Ranked, making an assumption on early schooling and putting Ichigo and Uryuu into the same theater club together. This becomes theater-trained-from-young-age teenagers coming face to face with Shinigami shenanigans and basically being little shits about everything because why not.

Things Unrelated to Bleach Fic

Oh look, I’ve branched into the MCU too, whoops.

Clouded Silver Wings: A-Ranked, it’s fun and a different style of writing than my Bleach stuff, so it’s basically a good gear-switch. Also it’s sitting on AO3 unfinished right now so I should probably stop being a dork about it and write more.

Unnamed Fireborn/MCU crossover: C-Ranked, BUT DRAGONS! But basically I haven’t written much to this, so it’s not really a high priority on things to get off my plate, also it’s gunna be long because it’s starting before Iron Man 1 so yeah.

Unnamed Breath of Fire/MCU Crossover: E-Ranked, what even is my brain, why do I keep doing weird crossovers, I’m so exasperated at myself. Is there a switch I can turn off to stop this from happening? And why am I only doing crossovers in MCU, wtf brain.

And then my poor, lonely HP/Loz fic.

Scholarly Savior: E-Rank, probably pretty fun, but I’m not quite on the same HP kick as I was when I started this, so it’ll be a while I think.

#akaluan rambles #works in progress #fanfiction #fanfic #masterpost #this is everything i remember having right now #i'll probably come back to this and edit it at other times #we'll see #but for now this is it #gods i remember the good ol' days #when i fretted about what would happen when I finished DE #HAHAHAHAHAHA #akaluan was naive #so naive #also if i could stop doing MCU crossovers that'd be cool #especially crack crossovers #like wtf #Fireborn trpg? #breath of fire? #legend of dragoon? #how is this even a thing

[inhumansforever]

Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #25 Review

spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers

The Fantastic Three story-arc starts here, from the creative team of Brendan Montclare, Natacha Bustos and Tamra Bonvillain.  Quick recap and review following the jump.

The tale starts off in Lunella’s underground laboratory where The Thing (Ben Grimm) and Human Torch (Johnny Storm) have brought Lunella some of the many boxes of storage that had previously been collecting dust in the old Baxter Building.  The boxes are loaded up mostly with memorabilia, but also a number of Reed Richards’ old intentions and Ben and Johnny thought that a fellow big-brain like Lunella might find some use for it.  

While Ben and Johnny bicker and banter with each other, Lunella discovers an old H.E.R.B.I.E. unit and accidentally switches it on.  The robot comes to life some time later and is likely to show back up some time down the line.  

Lunella takes Ben and Johnny up to her listening outpost on the roof of her apartment building.  There she explains that she has been monitoring different frequencies across the cosmos and multiverse in search of some sign of Reed Richards.  She has been dedicated to finding Reed, Sue and the kids not only because the world needs them, but also for her own reasons.  As the current smartest person in the world, Lunella is left feeling quite lonely and pines for the chance to meet and talk with the former smartest person in the world.  

As much as Ben and Johnny appreciate her efforts, they see Lunella’s search for Reed, Sue and the kids as being in vain.  It’s still not entirely clear what Ben and Johnny know about their family’s disappearance; what exactly they recall from the conclusion of the Secret Wars event.  Do they know that Reed and the others remained behind to help the Molecule Man recreate the multiverse, or do Ben and Johnny simply believe them to have died?  In either case, neither seem to feel Lunella has much of a chance of reaching Reed and the others.  

Elsewhere, a mysterious set of forces has been thieving various items as part of some sort of sinister scheme.  An experimental isotope of anti-yellow quarks is stolen, as is a large cache of gold, barrels of toxic waste and a huge amount of electricity.  To what end these items have been pilfered and who or what is behind the thefts remains to be seen.  The thief or thieves remains just out of the panel; yet what we do see of them bears a good deal of resemblance to the Fantastic Four (one is invisible, another has massive strength, another appears to have stretching powers, while the fourth seems to be composed of fire).  

Back at school, Lunella offers up a bunch of the old Fantastic Four comic books to Eduardo, who is very excited to receive them.  Eduardo and Zoe are Lunella’s friends, but not really the kind of friends that she can feel she can talk to, whom she can relate to on a deeper level.   

Lunella’s parents come to pick her up after school and are met their by Ben and Johnny.  There is something Ben and Johnny need Lunella’s help with, but Mr. and Mrs. Lafayette want nothing to do with it.  They’re done with Lunella’s dangerous super hero adventures and want her to come home.  Johnny is crestfallen that Lunella’s parents barely even remember the Fantastic Four.   No one bothers to ask Lunella whom she would prefer to accompany.

This whole argument over who Lunella is going to go with is interrupted by The Silver Surfer, who arrives above the school to deliver a dire message.  Ben and Johnny both assume The Surfer’s message is for them, but it is actually meant for Lunella.  

Ben and Johnny don’t take tio kindly to the matter and before you know it, yet another fight breaks out between The Thing, The Torch and The Surfer.  A fight that only comes to an end when Lunella threatens to obliterate them all with her latest invention.  

This stops them all in their tracks, whereupon Lunella reveals that her latest innovation is actually just her leftover sandwich from lunch.  Still, it sufficed in getting the trio to quit fighting and The Surfer is finally able to deliver his warning.  The Surfer no longer requires words to relay this warning, all that is needed is a mere gesture.  He points to the horizon where the enormous figure of Galactus looms, peering out over the Lower East Side.  

Lunella is of two minds in considering the world-ending threat that Galactus represents.  On the one hand she is daunted over the prospect of having to face this threat without her trusty pal, Devil Dinosaur.  On the other hand, however, she also feels solace that if the world is to come to an end at least Devil D will be safe back in his home dimension.  

And it is here that the issue comes to an end with he promise of continuation in the next installment.  

My ability to offer up at least the semblance of an unbiased review for this issue is all but entirely undermined by the fact that I am a huge Fantastic Four fan and so very much miss getting to read their adventures on a monthly basis.  And if missing the FF is a kind of itch, then this issue of Moon G and Devil D definitely helped to scratch it.  It is such a treat to get to see Ben and Johnny bickering again… and Lunella worked out great acting in the dual roles of Sue and Reed.  This Fantastic Three might not be quite as good as The Fantastic Four, but it is an excellent consolation prize.  Although what it most achieved was to remind me just how much I miss the FF.  

It seems a good bet that The Galactus who appears at the end may not be the real Galactus.  Instead of wearing his traditional mauve and blue armor, this Galactus is donned in armor of gray and gold.  My guess is this being may actually be an artificial Galactus composed of those various items that were shown as being stolen earlier in the issue.  Yet who might be behind this all?  Is it some evil version of the Fantastic Four from another dimension?  Is it the U-Foes?  Some other dastardly threat?  Whatever the case, I’m looking forward to finding out.  

Although it is a minor complaint, I was a little confused by Lunella’s motivations for searching out the missing members of The FF.  Clearly Lunella is very much missing Devil Dinosaur and I can get that she is longing to be able to talk with someone on the same intellectual level as herself, but this thematic was already very well addressed in the ‘World’s Smartest’ story-arc and it feels a touch like returning to the same well.  Besides, Lunella could have just taken to searching out Reed, Sue and the kids simply because it is a challenge worthy of her intellectual prowess.   It was nice to see Lunella’s mom and dad again, although I continue to wish we could see further development of their characters.  And where are the sentient robot duplicates Lunella made to cover for her when she was off rescuing Illa the Girl Moon?  Again, these are the kind of complaints that are merely a product of my having become so invested in Lunella and this comic.  These are good complaints… the kind of complaints I never have for comics I don’t really care about.  (but seriously, Mr. and Mrs. Lafayette need some more screen time…)

There’s also a neat little side-joke for longtime Fantastic Four fans.  Johnny shows contempt for the little robotic H.E.R.B.I.E. unit that Lunella uncovers and Ben jokes that Johnny doesn’t like him because he’s jealous of the time that H.E.R.B.I.E. had replaced him.  

What Ben is referring to here is actually took place in a cartoon.  The first Fantastic Four cartoon was produced in 1967 by Hana Barbara and was actually pretty terrific, with character designs by Alex Toth and stories derived from he comics themselves.  

A second, more ‘kid-friendly’ series was produced in 1978 by DePatie-Freleng Enterprises.  At the time Hana Barbara still owned the IP rights for The Human Torch so this new cartoon opted to replace him with HERBIE, an annoying Robot who was meant to be cute but was actually quite grating.  

This cartoon was just terrible and hating HERBIE is pretty much a badge of honor among big time FF fans.   

Anyways…. It is awesome to get to see Natacha Bustos illustrate The Thing and Human Torch.  The Kirby-esque elements of her style are highlighted, but the over-all look remains very much her own.  I have become such a huge fan of her and just love the way she draws The Thing and The Torch; her knack for fun and animated facial expression perfectly capture the playful banter between Ben and Johnny as well as Lunella’s exasperation over their nonsense.  I especially liked how Bustos chose to depict Johnny in his flamed-on form.  She opts for a minimalist approach, maintaining the expressiveness of in the face whilst also creating the illusion of dynamic flames dancing about.  It’s quite well done.  

As always, Bustos’ art is augmented and brought to life by Tamra Bonvillain’s expert colors.  Bustos and Bonvaillan work so well together, I could just gush over it all day.  The aesthetic they have created for this comic has been a key feature to it being a comic easily enjoyed by older and younger readers alike.  It’s… well, it’s fantastic!

Definitely recommended.  I’m biased because it met my FF jones, but keeping that in mind I’m going to go headband give it Five out of Five Lockjaws anyway!

#Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #fantastic four #Brendan Montclare #Natacha Bustos #Tamra Bonvillain #spoilers #Inhumans #review

[not-house-wives]

Prequel

(So this chunk is just to give you all an idea of how this will be. It’ll be a little rough or dry at times, simply because this is a roleplay taken and reshaped into fanfiction.)

The flight from Canada to Australia was long, to say the least. The time zone changes were brutal without the layovers. Jenna just had kept reminding herself why she was going.

When the plane finally touched down she dug out her phone and messaged, 'Landed! I'm here! :D '

As jet-lagged as Jenna was, she still managed to fly through the security and foot traffic at the airport with her suitcase barely keeping its wheels on the ground.

'I'm in parking. Had to leave the house early because of a certain smoke incident.' Caitlin typed back before she pulled out from her spot and went somewhere that was easily noticeable from the main building. She got out and waited for Jenna.

Getting out the doors Jenna scanned over the parking lot. She didn't know what car Caitlin was driving but if she could spot her....There were a few groups of people, but only one single female with blonde hair. Taking off towards that person the closer she got the more certain she was. Her face split into a grin as she called out, "Yo, Scribbles!" They hadn't done the description checkup before Jenna’s last flight. So, picking Jenna out amongst the crowd was a little difficult. But her internet name being called labeled her easily. She smiled and hurried, pulling Jenna into a hug, "Finally! You get to see my ugliness in person. You look terrible. We'll stop by somewhere to get you a coffee. How was the flight?" Jenna giggled and held Caitlin in a near death grip. "You shush, you're not ugly, you're hot as hell. Me, on the other hand, yes. I am a wreck. That was the longest amount of time I've ever been flying. I'm glad I don't have to go back right away. Coffee would be a godsend right now. I can't believe it's just 11:30 am here. I feel like I've pulled two all-nighters." Caitlin chuckled and lead her back to the car. Taking her bag so she could put it in the boot of the car, "Nothing a coffee and a nap won't fix. I'm sure you'll get used to-" She yelped as she opened the trunk of the car. NateMare smiled up at her from inside the small compartment. His legs and arms nearly folding in on themselves. "Hi! You left without me." He smirked and she glared down at him.

She slammed the boot shut and turned to Jenna, "Other than a few forced meetings, you haven't met Mare properly, have you?" Jenna could have sworn she heard a voice just before she closed the trunk of the car. At Caitlin’s question, she quirked a brow, "You mean the pain in the ass freeloader that you hang out with? No, I've never met him. Why?" Caitlin sighed, looking down at the trunk and then gestured for Jenna to stand next to her. She opened the trunk again, but Mare had disappeared. Caitlin frowned and rolled her eyes, picking up Jenna’s bag she put them in the car. "Never mind. I'm sure you'll meet him when we get to my place. Sorry if he gets a little… flirty." "We talking Dark's silver tongue flirty or frat boy, terrible pickup line, flirty?" Jenna asked before getting in the front passenger seat. She couldn't help but throw Dark's name at Caitlin. She knew she'd been horrible, siccing him on her a few too many times, but teasing her with him had become a great source of entertainment. "Depends on what you like, Sugarlips." Mare said from his, new, spot in the backseat. "Though, I'd like to think I use honey in different ways" Jenna startled at his voice while Caitlin yelped and glared at Mare through the rearview mirror. When Jenna spun around in the seat to see the source, she felt her brain slightly frizzle. He hadn't been there when they had entered the car. Sometimes Caitlin hated his ability to disappear and reappear. Caitlin had told Jenna that he was a flirt, pain in the ass, and a bit of a womanizer. Nowhere were his looks mentioned. In particular that he was almost entirely a duplicate of Nathan Sharpe. She was an idiot for not putting two and two together.

Caitlin sighed and gestured to Mare's smirking face, "Jenna, meet Mare. NateMare meet, off-limits, Jenna." She made the last bit sound a little firmer than was necessary.

Mare winked, making a clicking sound with his teeth and leaned forward to shake Jenna’s hand, "Charmed." Going with the defensive friendly approach, Jenna shook his hand, "Startled. Thanks for the wake-up, I was just about to fall asleep." The warmth from his hand was far too nice. She'd been freezing on the plane and if she recalled from Caitlin right, this guy was living smoke. "I'm happy to help. But if you need a more effective wake-up call I co-" Caitlin cut the guy off with a loud "Ah!" As if scolding a dog, "None of that. Not in the car. Save it for when she can at least match your wit with sass." She shot Jenna an apologetic look. "Anyway, was the flight was ok? Just ignore him. He’ll smoke out soon." "I don't know." Mare shrugged, his eyes moving over Jenna’s body. "The view here is rather spectacular." The more he talked the more his looks meant squat to her. Shuffling down in the seat with a yawn, Jenna reassured her, "The flight was good. No screaming babies and my seat neighbors were quiet."

Closing her eyes she waved a hand lazily at Mare, "As for you, look all you want, but as Caitlin said, off limits. There's a guy back home that has the touch permission card. Hugs only. Anything further and I will make you regret ever thinking about it." Mare pouted, even his shoulders sagged. Caitlin had to bite her lip from giggling at his puppyish display,

"Aww man. But cuddles are ok, right? They're just horizontal hugs." Caitlin shook her head. She couldn't believe he was starting the sad guy routine already. "Please, make him regret it. Any pandering to his bullshit and you're stuck with him for life."

Mare smirked and shrugged. Still keeping his eyes a little sad and glazed. Jenna kept her eyes to the front, she could tell from his tone alone that he was aiming for attention. She sent Caitlin a side smirk and asked him, "Either Caitlin never told you or you're cockier than I thought, when I said I'd make you regret it, what I should have said was Darkiplier will make you regret it. Just ask Caitlin, she's been regretting a lot of things lately. Haven't you?" Jenna snickered. Caitlin shot Jenna a side glare, rolling her eyes as she finally pulled out of the airport parking lot and started driving, "I wouldn't say regretting. But would Dark even want to deal with Mare? I doubt they've met." She said as Mare shrugged.

Giving up on his pout, to plaster a lazy smile on his lips, he laid back against the seat, "Here and there. But I haven't officially met the guy. I'd prefer not to. His ego would smother me to death before he can do anything." "There you go, hands to yourself and we're all dandy." Jenna wanted to watch out the window and see whatever there might be to see, but she was truly worn out from the flight. By the time they'd hit a couple streets away from the airport she was fighting to keep her eyes open, "Shit, I don't think coffee is gonna work to keep me up. Sorry to be a deadbeat on day one." She really did want to hang out and talk with Caitlin, in person. "Don't worry about it. I know how bad flying is. We can go straight home and get you settled in so you can sleep." Caitlin reassured before Mare tapped her through the cord.

His voice rang in her head from the smokey connection they shared, 'Just so you know, I'm staying. For, you know,... protection purposes.’  

'Fine. But seriously. Hands off Jenna. Or else I will call someone to chase you off.'

"Mmmm, thanks. I'll try and stay conscious till we reach your place, at least. The last thing you need is to haul my luggage and my fat ass inside." Jenna pushed herself back upright and rubbed at her eyes.

To try and keep herself awake she decided to poke at the smoke man in the back, "So, Smokey, it true you can sing people into submission or whatnot? And no, that's not an invitation for a demonstration." She knew how entities could think. You had to be blunt and cut them off before they even had the thought. Mare smirked at her quick correction. He nodded and ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it as he spoke, "Sure can. Million and one uses, me. But I prefer to use it on people when I have no other choice or if I'm lazy. The chase and interrogation phases are the sweetest part." He winked then continued. "I use my voice to project misery or pain more than turning people into slaves though." "You don't need to use your voice to project misery on people Mare. Just be in the same room and people start crying." Caitlin said and Mare leaned forward to flick her ear playfully. Jenna had to laugh at the banter between the two. It was just as good as a comedy show. "They're so in awe of my looks it brings them to tears," Mare said dramatically. "And what of you? Little, miss Canada has a contract with big, mean, Dark. Spoopy. Is he as much of an ass as everyone says?" Thinking of Dark Jenna felt the cord in her mind, forged of shadows and darkness, wriggle with his attention on what was happening. She shook it off and tried to use her fatigue to muffle the connection, "And then some. It's all hidden meanings, discreet lies, and chess games with him. The only reason I keep him around is because of his looks and to study his personality in order to develop my writing." As she spoke she also made sure to make mental notes of everything Mare had listed for his ability. She never knew when knowing something about someone might give her an edge. Mare nodded with a chuckle,"Sounds a little bit like why Scribbly made a contract with me. Good looks and an abundance of entertainment." "Also, because you wouldn't leave my house and kept eating my food," Caitlin said. "But yes. The looks are a plus. Especially when he forgets to wear shirts." Mare beamed happily and did a little bow. "I aim to please. You got it, flaunt it. That's my motto." Internally, Jenna crossed her fingers to get one of those shows herself. Out loud, she shrugged, "Better than what most men prefer to flaunt, at least. Going shirtless won't get you a ticket for indecency. That's one thing I'm looking forward to while I'm here. Sunbathing! It's snowing back home right now." She made a face at the thought of the cold. "That's the one good thing. He'll flaunt that, at least, once and then move on to making his muscles bulge." Caitlin said with a chuckle, slowing down as they neared her street. "You never complained about that being flaunted. Whatever that is." Mare said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. A yawn running through his body as he slouched in the backseat. "Fuck! Now I've got the yawns. Thanks, Jenna. You've only been here five minutes and you're already affecting me." Mare pouted. couldn't resist turning in her seat and giving him a large grin, "Give me a couple days and I'm sure I can have you crawling up the walls to get away from my influence." Mare laughed and tilted his head, a playful smirk curling his lips, "I'll be happy to experience that." Caitlin made a loud gagging noise and pretended to hold her chest to stop herself from throwing up, "Eww, if this is what you two are gonna be like, I'm sending you back to Canada in a box. And he can go with you."

Jenna sat upright and held her hands up in surrender, "I'll stop, don't send me back to the freezing death trap. You know it's a reflex." "Enclosed space in a freezing cold airplane during long hours of flight? I won't complain." Mare teased.

Caitlin sighed heavily, "I swear to god, I'm going to be wishing for Dark just to get away from you two." As Caitlin pulled into her driveway, Jenna spoke through a massive yawn, "Look I'm going to be dead for a good five hours, so it'll definitely stop." Caitlin chuckled and turned off the car. Getting out just as Mare turned to a cloud of smoke and reappeared behind the car, removing Jenna’s bag from the trunk and smiling at her, "I'm not a total asshole. But that offer for a cuddle buddy is still up." Caitlin rolled her eyes and lead the way into the house. Peeking inside to see that the smoke had been cleared but the scent was still heavily embedded.

"Sorry for the smell. Mare.... tried to pull a prank and it went wrong." Mare caught Caitlin’s gaze and grinned appreciatively. Jenna didn't know the full extent of Mare's personality yet, but throughout the night Caitlin had soothed a trembling demon from a night-terror. Smoke had poured from his open scars and to see him so ruined made her chest clench.

"I didn't think it through properly." Mare had a sheepish grin in place before she had finished speaking. "Lucky you I grew up with a dad that smokes. I'm not bothered by the smell," Jenna gave him a small smile and held her hands up to show that she didn’t mind him taking her bag. "Neat trick by the way. Handy means of escape when you go and piss someone off I bet. As for the cuddle buddy, that does sound like a good idea now that I’ve thought it over." Jenna turned on her heel and went over to Caitlin, looping her arms around her shoulders she asked, "Be my cuddle buddy?"

Caitlin laughed at Mare's pout. It was very rare he'd find someone that didn't fall for him right away. When this happened, however, he was quick to sing them under his influence, if he liked them a lot. However, due to Jenna being off limits, Mare kept his mouth shut and moved to put the bag into the spare room. "I don't know if a certain somebody would like us spooning," Caitlin said with a chuckle. "But I have to stay up and keep an eye on the frat boy until you wake up. I'm sure he won't do anything, but better to be safe." "He's seriously so bad that you need to hover over him?" Jenna asked incredulously. His flirty behaviour seemed innocent at least. Maybe it was those brown puppy eyes he had going for him that was deceiving.

"He is definitely that bad." Caitlin replied. Walking through the front door Jenna took in the place. Roomy with a comfy looking couch and definitely homey feeling. Another yawn hit her, "Your place is amazing. Much roomier than what I have back home. Give me a tour after my nap, okay?" Jenna said this while slowly heading up the stairs to see where Smokey had ended up with her luggage. Caitlin smiled with a shrug at Jenna’s words, "I had to clean it twice before your plane landed, but I'm glad you like it. Have a good sleep. And yell if you need anything."

Mare was very interested in learning more about Jenna. And he found that luggage was always a good place to start. The way it was packed, what was brought, and what her taste in fashion was. But she had followed him pretty closely so he barely got the bag on the bed before she entered the room, "I'm not gonna frisk you while you sleep, Sugar. Despite what that little blonde thinks, I have a few morals." He winked before he left. "Those morals didn't include privacy of possessions though, I saw that side eye. Keep your mitts off the goods!" Jenna called after him before closing and locking the bedroom door. She moved the bag off the bed, laid down, and groaned. The pillow smelled faintly of smoke and she rather liked it. She passed out fairly quickly after.

But her sleep didn't go peacefully at first. As soon as she was unconscious the cord of shadows hummed to life with his voice, "You're rather far from home." "Go away, Dark. I don't need you." With the cord, she could sense an odd touch of interest to his words. He didn't care that she was somewhere else, it was the somewhere else he was interested in. "You know I don't actually need you to go where I please. You just make it easier." His words were a taunt, a reminder of the fact that it cost her energy to send him places and he didn't mind that part of it at all. "I just spent too many hours on a plane with very little sleep. Come back and harass me when I can actually make it entertaining for you." The hum died in her mind and she fell into proper sleep.

While Jenna slept, Caitlin continued to clean and do all sorts of things throughout the house. Including, keeping a very bored Mare from trying to annoy the other occupant upstairs.

"Does Jenna even know he's here?" Mare asked and Caitlin shook her head. "No. And she won’t. He's promised not to make himself known unless I call him or something bad happens." Caitlin assured him.

Mare glanced at the hatch that led to the basement, "I'm still staying to make sure nothing happens."

#Natemare #Darkiplier #roleplay #fanfiction

[2x4swrites]

ig this is Stan/Bill though it can be read platonically - IT 1990 

'Comfortable' was not the word most people would use to describe Stan Uris. 'Odd,' 'quiet,' 'distant,' and 'cold' were sometimes used by adults. Kids were harsher, crueler in their descriptions- kids didn't hold back for the sake of appearances. If Bill Denbrough had cared at all about appearances, he wouldn't be going to Stan Uris for comfort.

Now, it's not that Stan's particularly comforting- Ben was comforting, he worried about all of them and gave the best hugs and made sure to bring bandaids everywhere. Stan was comfortable, like coming home after a long day. He was patient and organized, and where often the other Losers would crack a joke or finish his words for him, Stan simply listened to the end, as if it was a normal conversation. It made Bill feel normal where most people did not. Stan was also willing to quietly carry a conversation alone when Bill just couldn't open his mouth. Every other kid Bill knew would've demanded some interaction, but Stan did not.

It's not that the others aren't kind, of course. All of them are, Richie Tozier included. It's just that they're kids, and kids aren't very patient, and they're not entirely sensitive to others either. Having to listen to the others finish his sentences for him as he chokes on simple, stupidly simple words is getting under Bill's skin for reasons he couldn't tell you. Any other time Richie's affectionate jab and the accompanying 'mushmouth' would've gotten just as many laughs from Bill as the others, but Bill is also a kid, and he is not very patient himself. His jaw snaps shut and, tired of feeling horribly incompetent and annoyed for no real good reason he can see, Bill grabs Silver, climbing on and pedaling off without so much as a word to the others.

Before he's even sure where he's going, he finds himself at Stan's house. Bill leaves his bike on the grass, walking up to the door and knocking politely. Somehow, when Stan's mother opens the door, he manages to ask if Stan's home without stuttering. As soon as she points him in the right direction, Bill's off. He knocks just as politely on Stan's bedroom door as he had before, walking over and sitting down next to Stanley when he invites him in.

Stan fixes him with one calm, studious look, one Bill had only seen on adults otherwise, before saying hello and asking him how he is. Bill shakes his head, and Stan nods understandingly.

"That's alright. Would you like to look at one of my books with me?"

Bill nods, and while Stanley goes to get the book, Bill looks around. Stan's parents had decided to move away, and Stan's things were almost packed up, in neatly-labeled, taped-shut cardboard boxes. If this had been another kid's room, Bill would've thought an adult had done the packing. Bill is suddenly filled with the urge to hug Stanley and never let him go. 'No,' he'll say. 'You can't leave without taking me with you.' It's not that he loves Stan or anything, but... it's not that he doesn't, either.

Stan sits down next to him, both of them leaning back against the bed, the bird book in Stan's lap. Stan starts to talk, showing him the different birds and telling him all about them. Bill has the unexpected thought that Stan would make for the kind of teacher who took no nonsense but still kept you engaged. He flashes Stan a warm smile, and Stan, amused, offers his own small smile in return.

Another curious thought enters Bill's mind as Stan starts to talk about a different species of bird- he wonders how old Stan really is. If, maybe, he was sent to them because in reality he's ancient but just doesn't know it, and that was why Stan acted like an adult when he's just a kid. Bill thinks Stan might be an elf. It would make sense, wouldn't it? The seriousness, the tidiness, the affinity for nature... yes, Bill likes that thought quite a bit. Besides, elves are supposed to be beautiful, and while Bill's heard plenty of people call Stan ugly, he happens to think his friend is quite pretty. Not that Bill would ever admit it aloud, mind you.

At some point while Stan talks, Bill ends up resting his cheek on Stan's shoulder. Bill thinks if it had been anyone else, except maybe Eddie or Bev, Stan would've pushed them away. Bill knows he's going to miss this... this everything, when Stan moves away. They'll all miss him, duh, but this is special. This is Stan-and-Bill, not Stan-and-the-Losers. Bill's becoming more and more convinced he should follow through on that urge to hug Stan, if not forever then at least for a couple minutes.

When Stan closes his book they both turn, as if thinking the same thoughts, and pull each other into a tight hug. When they separate, Stan smiles and fixes Bill's rumpled shirt.

"I hope you feel better, big Bill."

"I d-do, thank you St- St- Stan." Bill smiles back, brightly.

"Don't let Richie cause too much trouble when I'm gone."

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye- an- an eye out."

"Good." Stan nods approvingly. "Don't let the others bug you too much, either. Rich doesn't have the patience to read without doing one of his voices."

Bill snorts when Stan rolls his eyes, both of them well acquainted with just how awful Richie's voices are. "I'll b-be okay, pr-promise. You don't h-h-have to- to worry about anything, Stan."

"Nothing'll stop me from worrying. Who better to get in a heap of trouble than the Loser's club?" Stan smirks, full of good humor. Bill is suddenly, accutely aware of how much older Stan sounds, and not just... not just in the ancient fairytale elf way. Bill feels it too, like his brain's suddenly outgrown his body. When they meet each other's eyes, Bill knows Stan understands him perfectly- Stan always does.

"I'll r-ruh- r-really m-miss you, Stan." Bill says, and Stan nods.

"I'll miss you too, big Bill. Keep in touch, will you?"

"Promise. Cross m-my heart." Bill said, solemn, one hundred percent truthful. Their gazes meet and Bill desperately doesn't want to look away. He's afraid if he does, Stan will vanish.

As if on cue, Stan's mother knocks, both boys turning towards the door. Stan returns to packing, at his mother's request, and Bill takes Silver and heads home. The next day, Bill will apologize for riding off and the others will apologize for pushing a little too hard. A week later, Stanley Uris will move with his family to a state far enough away it might as well be another country. Twenty eight years after that, Bill Denbrough will find himself wishing he'd held on tight and demanded Stan stay. Irrational and childish, he pushes the thought away. It is replaced by the thought of elves and birds, and Bill doesn't think he's missed someone more in his life.

#IT 1990 #fanfic #Stan/Bill #but also: #no ship #however u want to read it

[mittensmorgul]

Mandroids, Meta, and Subtext

Rewatching 2.12 (which is such a good episode on so many levels), and rambling on at @elizabethrobertajones about subtext and how it’s not some Seekrit Layer that isn’t inherently part of the text, and how we all read subtext whether we realize it or not... And somehow these two lines of thought sorta... merged together.

What follows is a loosely-cobbled-together and edited for continuity chunk of our conversation:

I'm thinking about a very old meta about reading the subtext, and how we all literally do it all the time (even in real life). We read between the lines to find meaning in everyday things ALL THE TIME. And how it's just how human brains work and not some obscure science you have to learn. There's this faulty assumption among people who read meta as if it's some obscure and mystical science that the average person doesn't do all that time. We're just like... better at explaining it, because practice.

I think some of the mystery about meta is that some folks don't trust what they believe they're seeing in the subtext, because it's been built up into some sort of secret code buried in the text, but it's just how storytelling works and always has. And meta is just us holding the curtains back and pointing it all out clearly. I wish people didn't think that only certain gifted people can pull back the curtains. We all do it, all the time, whether we realize it or not.

But the subtext isn't some obscure layer of the story that the casual viewer can't see, or that they DON'T see. They just don't spend much time or effort THINKING about it. They subconsciously react to it, allowing it to inform their feelings or reactions to what they're seeing on screen.

Take for example Ronald Resnick, and his Mandroids. He read the surface text aaaall wrong. And yet he was still mostly right, just wrong frame of reference. Just, monsters instead of mandroids, but every other detail... spot on. He was reading the wrong genre, because that was his personal leanings (the alien robot conspiracy stuff vs literal monsters). Wrong genre, Ron... but the rest of the story matches up. And all his problems arise because he started out from the wrong baseline assumption. If he'd gone in LOOKING for monsters instead of robots, he would've been 100% right.

Also, Sam read Ronald all wrong too, thinking he could keep him safe and out of trouble by crushing and utterly dismissing his theories... which only led to Ronald putting himself right in the middle of all the trouble. I love Dean's reactions through this whole episode, like, TOLD YOU SAMMY. All Ronald wanted was for someone to believe him.

That's all it took for Ron to trust Dean, Dean being 100% sincere that he believed him, validation that he'd read the subtext and come to the (mostly) right conclusions. And despite the horror of his whole situation, and finding out about shapeshifters, Ronald can't stop grinning, because DAMMIT HE WAS RIGHT.

I mean, it just depends on the genre, but EVERYBODY knows how to read subtext. It's how we form opinions and interpret clues while reading a murder mystery or watching a cop drama, and why we make guesses about who the culprit might be. 

(sure some people are better at it... some are surprised when the real killer is revealed, while others are genre savvy enough to see through the red herrings)

(or they just put more focused thought into it as the story unfolded)

(and some people LIKE passively watching the story because it makes the surprise twist or the big reveal more satisfying to them if they haven’t already placed mental wagers on whodunit)

(or else someone's inherent bias led them to overlook a character as a potential suspect, or to focus on another character too hard as a suspect)

In order to correctly interpret all that subtext, you need to recognize when shows are going to be like, look at this harmless nerd, in the first 10 minutes, and then spend 20 chasing his shifty looking boss. But all of that comes from reading the subtext, whether the viewer groks that they're doing it or not. We're not doing anything particularly obscure here in writing meta about it all.

We're just trying to be objective, not going in with preconceived notions aside from an understanding of past canon, a good grip on the genre, some insight into the characters (which isn't obscure, again, but it's something WE think about far more than the average casual viewer).

In 2.12, poor Sam was so locked into his expectations, he failed to adapt when the situation changed. He just kept mocking Ronald, while Dean found a way to connect with him.

DEAN: (quietly) Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted, SAM: (shouting) Understatement! DEAN: But if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away, probably never find it again, okay? [RONALD is peering out the window, in plain view, and SAM gestures at him in exasperation.] DEAN: Ron! Out of the light! SAM: Seriously?! DEAN: Yeah, Ron's game plan was a bad plan, I mean, it was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now crazy's the only game in town, okay?

And in the middle of all this plot and character drama subtext, here comes poor old Henriksen, who's working from the wrong playbook ENTIRELY (and therefore can't even BEGIN to interpret what's really going on). He thinks he's dealing with a couple of crazed serial killers, because he has zero frame of reference to even think about "mandroids" let alone shapesifters or the supernatural. So he's come to the entirely wrong conclusions about the Winchesters (and even what genre they’re operating within :P).

Even the Winchesters get confused when the shapeshifter "plays dead" and nearly tricks them into killing an innocent woman... their little game of looking back and forth between the two identical bodies on the floor and trying to make sense of what they're seeing, nearly gets Dean killed...

And now a brief interlude for lizbob commentary that’s entirely on point (and personally amusing after discussing all of the above):

elizabethrobertajones I think this episode might be a wee bit meta :D

mittensmorgul EDLUND!!!

(/interlude)

All the while the Winchesters are distracted by this whole other thing going on outside the bank with Victor and the SWAT team, but they power their way through that by (as they often do) blending in with expectations (disguising themselves behind fake badges and bravado. ACTING!)

I don’t think Ben Edlund ever imagined I’d use this episode as a lesson in pointing out the text, the subtext, and why not every reading is equally valid OBJECTIVELY, while at the same time, multiple readings are possible but they are not inherently equivalent.

Victor Henriksen is the “casual viewer” in this metaphor, if that wasn’t clear. He thinks he has the facts, but he’s surprised over and over even when he thinks he’s got the Winchesters pinned down.

Ronald Resnick at least sees more of the big picture, more of the truth of what’s going on. Sure, he’s working from the wrong baseline assumption and has no idea how to implement what he believes he knows correctly. He doesn’t understand that when he discarded Dean’s silver blade down the trash bin that he’d essentially put their only weapon against the monster out of reach. He’d charged in with the mistaken belief that he was the only one who could even SEE there was a problem, let alone have a plan to stop it. All because Sam tried to convince him that his entire theory was wrong.

Sam and Dean understood it was a shapeshifter all along (based on Ronald’s evidence that he’d misinterpreted as mandroids), and in order to keep him safe and out of the way, Sam believed that dismissing Ron’s theories entirely and playing Authority Figure was the best way to go about this, while Dean was rather incredulous about this tactic:

DEAN: Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up. I mean, you tell that poor son of a bitch that-- what did you say, remand the tapes that he copied? Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation? (Laughs) That's messed up. SAM: (sitting down to watch the tape) What are you, pissed at me or something? DEAN: Nah, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fed you are. I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here. SAM: Mandroid? DEAN: Except for the Mandroid part. I liked him. He's not that different from you or me. People think we're crazy. SAM: Yeah, except he's not a hunter, Dean. He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive.

But of course Ronald wasn’t going to stay in the dark. He’d seen too much, he was personally invested because the “mandroid” had hurt his friend Juan. He couldn’t let it go, and Sam’s dismissal of him-- instead of making him back off like Sam had hoped-- had only served to push him harder to find answers, to prove his theory and vindicate his friend. Sam failed to recognize Ron’s personal investment in all of this, much to Dean’s disbelief... Explaining the context to Ron DID eventually work, and it’s how Dean gained his trust, but it was already too late for Ron. His failure to understand the same signs Sam and Dean saw for what they really were eventually led to his own death. His lack of understanding of how things work (stay away from the windows, keep out of the light, etc.) got him shot by the feds staking out the building from outside.

(have I mentioned just how meta this episode is?)

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean DID understand the situation correctly, and had formulated a workable plan for resolving all of it in their usual idiom, but their earlier missteps with Ronald made those previous plans unworkable. They’re hampered at every turn (Ronald disposes of Dean’s silver knife, then they have to hobble Sam’s ability to help with the hunt by securing him in the vault with all the other people in the bank because Sam was still resisting working with Ronald. Unlike Dean, Sam didn’t want to even take the effort to win Ronald’s trust, didn’t want to adapt their plans to take out the shapeshifter to include Ronald and had dismissed even the possibility of Ron being able to understand the situation if presented with a few small pieces of truth, even when it was clear that they were far beyond the point of keeping Ronald out of it and safe...)

But explaining that one small detail he’d got wrong in his construction of his Mandroid theory would likely have been enough to convince Ronald to stay out of it from the start. Sam and Dean could’ve infiltrated the bank, killed the shifter, and been out without anyone being the wiser or the swat team having been brought in. (But that would’ve been a rather boring episode to watch, even without being able to apply this sort of meta-level thinking to it :P)

Just flat-out putting everything into the surface text and having the characters just say everything that’s otherwise conveyed through the subtext would’ve been the equivalent of that. IT MAKES FOR TERRIBLE AND BORING STORYTELLING. It’s not engaging at all, because there’s zero subtlety to it. So to the argument that if the subtext was really important to the story, why would they “hide” it in the subtext instead of being obvious about it... yeah. It would be boring as hell. The whole story would feel “flat” because it would require absolutely no mental interaction with the text at all, and in good, engaging storytelling, at least SOME active participation is required of the consumer.

This is how I see it, character by character:

Victor: entirely misinterprets the subtext because he thinks he’s in a cop drama when he’s actually in a horror genre show

Ron: reads the subtext, but has the wrong context and therefore isn’t able to come to the correct conclusions or formulate a viable plan

Sam: Knows exactly what the subtext is saying, but fails at reading Ron (as a character) and his motivations correctly, therefore inadvertently setting the entire plot in motion, but his mistaken assumptions about Ron lead to a lot of complications (culminating in Ron’s death by misadventure)

Dean: Gets the subtext entirely, understands that all Ron wanted was to be heard, understood, and validated. Shifting that ONE MISSING PIECE of information into place for the guy could’ve saved a heck of a lot of trauma (and an innocent guy’s life). Because of all the outside situations affecting and changing in real time around him, Dean adapts his plan but he’s still at the mercy of the narrative (the Victor Henriksen level of the story). He can’t just... override the blatant textual stuff. He’s got to work within that framework still, blend in, and sneak out the back door in disguise.

Me: Sits here wondering if this is still too obscure for people to understand.

BONUS MATERIAL:

2.13 is pretty much about the same thing... seeing one thing but expecting something else. It's a ghost, but even the ghost thinks its an angel, and the expectation of the people he "chose" was also ANGEL so that's what they chose to believe. The “angel” was always only just poor old Father Gregory who didn't understand how to move on. And the WISH for it to be a real angel was strong enough that Sam and the other "victims" couldn't (or didn't want to) see the truth. They’d been willing to commit murder in the name of their mistaken assumptions. At least Sam was willing to test Dean's theory, and not just blindly follow what he believed at the time were obvious "signs."

2.14... poor Dean is the one without proper context in this one, and he's like Exposition on How To Read Subtext as the story unfolds. Presented with problem: Sam is missing, then found covered in blood with no memories. Putting the clues together: because Dean is GOOD at reading the clues, and understanding what's "in character" for Sam, and correctly interpreting what's "not in character" as CLUES that help him eventually uncover the truth, instead of dismissing them without any other consideration because they don’t match up with his preexisting understanding.

As I’m editing this mess of metaphors, I’ve got one more to add. Looking at the story is like seeing the picture of the kid on a box of Cracker Jack. Seeing the subtext is like realizing that kid’s holding a box of Cracker Jack and wondering about the picture on THAT box... Even if you don’t realize you’ve noticed that little detail (I mean, it’s right there, and your brain sees it whether or not you choose to look at it more closely to see what it’s showing you), it doesn’t change the fact that the kid on the box is still holding that box with a picture of himself holding a box... You don’t have to acknowledge all of that, but it doesn’t change the fact it’s there, on purpose, and a part of the whole that’s just as valid as the physical box it’s printed on. To me, this post is the equivalent of me cosplaying the Cracker Jack box kid. Just bringing it all out one level further.

The entire key to reading the whole story is printed right there on the box. Sometimes it just requires a bit of turning the box over and thinking about what it’s implying to understand the whole picture.

#spn 2.12 #spn meta meta #spn 2.13 #spn 2.14 #revenge of the subtext #actual quote i just used elsewhere: Damn Ben Edlund #it's spirals all the way down #on the meta level of the individual episode and throughout the entire series as a whole tbh