#goddamn I forgot how many tags this is gonna be

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link: A Robin’s Song Chpt Six

Two months ago

“I’m moving.”

The words shot through him like a bullet to the heart, leaving him stumbling back. All their after high school plans, their college coordination, everything that had gone unsaid that would now never be. 

He made a choked noise and dove for him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Jon gripped him like a lifeline, shaking.

“Gonna miss you…so much.” he sniffled, feeling the hot tears gather where Damian was hiding his face.

“Don’t say that, please don’t say that…” Damian’s voice was muffled, hands bunched in Jon's shirt.

His world was breaking, his everything was gone. Jon was being ripped away from him despite his best efforts. He was desperate, clinging to his friend as if any second he would disappear.

“Thank you for being here with me, through everything.” His voice cracked and he curled in on the smaller boy, tears dotting their clothes. 

“You’re moving, not dying, idiot.” Damian muttered, eliciting a broken little laugh from the other boy.

“I know. Just…promise me. Promise me we’ll still be friends.” He held out his pinkie like they would do as children.

“I’ve been invested into this friendship for too many years to let it go out now.” Damian felt a pang in his chest, and an odd feeling of dread as they shook their linked fingers.

They wouldn’t know how quick the years’ bond could come crashing down, memories aflame.

Jon leaned back, pulling the shorter boy to his chest in a cuddling position. Damian’s cheeks flushed, and he blamed it on the tears, ignoring the flutters in his stomach. This was a moment for them, a moment to soak up every last memory that they could make in the time left. 

If he had looked up, just for a moment, he would have seen the rush of emotions on the other boy’s face, and the conflicting pink to his cheeks.

One day ago

“Two tickets for the 5:30 showing, please!” Damian snatched up the tickets, bouncing on his toes as he waited outside the theater. 

The girl manning the booth grinned at him, saying teasingly. “Got a date?”

He flushed, before waving his hands in the air. “N-No, he’s my best friend.”

“Sureee.” She waved him in. “Hope you enjoy it.”

He waited awhile, the clock ticking further and further towards the time of the start. He pulled out his phone, texting him again, deciding he might as well get concessions. 

Fifteen more minutes passed and he was on the edge of a seat facing the entrance and ticket booth, eating the popcorn.

There was no sign of him and Damian was starting to worry. This had been planned for months, and Jon had promised he’d be there. 

He called him once the movie started, still outside. It rang and rang, ultimately going to voicemail.

“Jon, you’re late, are you okay? Don’t tell me you forgot, we’ve been planning this for months!” 

“J, this is really messed up.”

“I’m not watching this movie without you and you know it.”

“Jonathan Samuel Kent-Lane, answer your goddamn phone!” 

Thirty minutes of calling once the movie was well underway, and he was still alone, the phone ringing and ringing, slushies melted and popcorn cold. 

The sympathetic looks were painful and the moment his phone buzzed, he jolted, clicking on it. 

A notification from Haisley’s instagram tagging Jon lit it up and he clicked on it nearly crushing his phone in the overload of feelings, looking at the high-quality picture of the two of them in the park, Jon flushed pink as Haisley kissed his cheek.

His jaw clenched and with shaking hands he pressed the call button again, waiting for the voicemail.

“You DITCHED ME for your GIRLFRIEND?” His voice was wrecked, an example of himself in the moment.

“Screw you, honestly. I can’t believe you, you said this was important to you and that you’d tell her and she’d understand!”

He screeched into his hands as the voice limit cut off, not caring that he was in public and getting several concerned glances. 

Damian pocketed his phone and began picking up, tossing the empty stuff into a trash can and taking the rest home. At least his siblings could enjoy them. 

“Hey, kid!” The booth manager beckoned him over and curiously, he went. “That was a shitty thing your boy did. Take this, and bring him back when he comes to his senses.” 

It was a voucher for two and he smiled a bit, thanking her for her kindness. She waved to him and he made the walk back home, tired and emotionally drained..

The heartache blossomed in his chest, the lull of the painful longing swirling together and coming out as something so hideous that he was ashamed of himself for feeling it.

                                                   Present Day

“Damian?” Tim prodded at his brother. “Damian, get up, you slept through the alarm.”

“Mmpf.” He mumbled, blearily rubbing at his eyes. Tim still had his bedhead and Duke was still searching for his hoodie, so he hadn’t missed much. 

Zombie-like, he stepped out of bed and dressed, slipping on his shoes and leaving the bedroom in search of the rest of his siblings.

His father was in the kitchen, still in his PJs, and when asked why, he responded that Dick had woken with a fever and was going to stay home.

The rest of the morning went by as usual, and despite the sick feeling at the bottom of his stomach, he shoveled breakfast into his mouth and walked the rest of the way to school.

Duke avoided conversation, opting to stay silent but presenting a comforting air that made Damian’s fists clench.

His first few classes of the day were spent avoiding Jon in the hallways, ducking his head if he noticed the blue eyes sweeping the long rooms for him.

He heard his name called a few times but brushed by, pretending he had not heard anything. It was petty, but he felt it was well deserved. 

The bell rang for lunch and he slunk out of the room, dread coiling in the bottom of his stomach. 

Just get your lunch, and go to the library. Damian chanted in his head, trying to evade the worst of the line and Jon’s eyes

He was nearly out when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, causing him to twist into a defensive stance and swing, narrowly avoiding Jon’s nose.

“Whoa, whoa, D, it’s just me!” he yelped, ducking.

“Sorry.” He said, avoiding his gaze. “You scared me.

Jon crossed his arms, waiting for him to look up. “Dames, you’ve been avoiding me all day. What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”

Yes.

“No.” Damian grit out.  Clutching his tray harder, he tried to walk past him, what little appetite he had gone.

“Then what is it?” He scowled, blocking the shorter boy’s way, the tray spilling its contents on the floor.

“Oh my gosh, i’m sorry-”

“Don’t.” Damian hissed. His self-restraint had been chipping away the last few months, the heartbreak and the longing and the anger swirling together and spitting filth at the one who was rooted in the cause.

Although, deep down, he knew it was really himself who was to blame.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t apologize for things you don’t mean.” Jon’s face twisted into an unreadable expression, grasping that they were no longer talking about the fallen lunch.

“Dames, what’s going on with you?”

His fists curled at his sides and he looked up at him. “Jon, do you know what yesterday was?”

“N-no..” He pulled out his phone to check, clicking in his messages and visibly falling as he realized everything going on.

“I’m so sorry, Dami, i didn’t mean to-”

His nails dug into the soft skin of his palms as his eyes itched. “You went out with Haisley yesterday, knowing that it was the day we were supposed to watch our movie.”

Jon huffed. “That’s not fair, Damian, I forgot! My phone was at home, and you know that I have to spend as much time with her as possible now so that we can stay together when I move.”

His eyes watered at the implication but he blinked them back and held his stance.

“You told me, months ago when we planned this, that she’d understand. Why is it, that this girl you’ve been dating for a max of six months, who you don’t even like , is more important then someone who’s been with you your whole fucking life?”

The taller boy scowled, eyes reflecting hurt. 

“Shut up, you don’t know how I feel, and you don’t get to tell me who I can and can't hang out with. Are you jealous? Is that what’s happening right now? Because that sure sounds like it. You don’t like that I'm with someone else who’s not you, and that’s why you’ve been like this since Haisley. That’s real fucking selfish.”

Right on the money, but not in the way you think.

The rare curse from the boy made the quip die on the tip of his tongue, only further solidifying what they knew.

Everything, the years and memories and the hidden feelings had been lit aflame and would soon be crumbling to ashes over the simplicity of something missed.

There was more to this than either of them would dare to admit, and this would be the downfall to haunt them for the rest of their lives.

They stopped, watching each other. Damian’s anger and hurt were spilled on his face and mannerisms, curled in on himself but still rigid in a defensive position. 

Everything about Jon screamed defensive, from the way he was standing to the expression on his face, eyes guarded but still watching.

Tearful eyes stared down, circling each other while staying in the same spot.

“I was your best friend.” Damian spoke into the tense silence. “I gave you everything I had. I let you vent and offered advice and gave up the things that would have brought me nothing but joy because I wanted you to stay happy and stay with me .”

“I don’t care that you have someone, that you have other friends than me, or we would have been done a long time ago. I can’t….”

He inhaled shakily, heart wrenching out of his chest with the way Jon’s eyes overflowed, his own voices dangerously close to wobbling.

“I can’t do this anymore. This isn't an ultimatum, because I'd never make you choose. But I don't think that I can keep playing second fiddle and being ditched left and right because your priorities switch in a bat of an eyelash.”

His eyes shut as the pain-stricken voice he loved rang in his ears. “The ice cream and the songs and the jackets and nights out on your porch just all mean nothing to you?” 

“They mean everything to me.” Damian’s voice broke, hot tears burning his eyes. “And I will never be able to let them go…never be able to let you go, no matter how hard I try.”

“Then don’t let me go.” Jon pleaded pitifully.

“I have to. I have to for my own sanity, and for you, because you need to l et go. Let go of me, and this place, because you’re going to do amazing things, Jonathan Kent. You’ll move, and you’ll forget, i swear you will-”

“I won’t.” He sobbed. “I will never forget you, and I'll stay here and we’ll make up, and everything will be fine-”

“YOU WILL!” Damian screamed. “I’m replaceable, forgettable, and this only proves it. I’m leaving, even if it's just for now.”

“Damian, please -” 

He couldn’t hear the rest of the plea, whipping around and letting his feet take him somewhere far away, out of the halls and the schoolyard and down the streets until he wound up at his door, stumbling through with barely contained wail.

His father stood from where he was sitting on the old chair in the living room and rushed to pick him up. 

“Damian, Damian, are you okay? Can you hear me?” 

He choked on a sob and buried his face in his father’s chest. Bruce scooped him up and held him like he were five instead of the nearly eighteen.

When he was calmed enough, he began talking, wobbling through the events of the past few months, allowing himself to be rocked gently and held.

“I left school…I’m sorry.” He rubbed his eyes nearing the end of the story.

“I’m sorry, Dami, so sorry this is happening. It’s fine, I'll call you in, and you can stay home tomorrow too, if you want.”

He sniffled and nodded, sliding out of his father’s grasp but leaning against him on the couch.

A black-haired head bobbed up and into the living room, clutching a blanket. Dick’s nose was red and his eyes were puffy, and out of it enough to not question his elder brother’s appearance at home instead of school. He climbed between them and fell back asleep, warm from the fever.

The heat, no matter how worrying, was controlled enough that Damian’s eyes began to flutter shut as well.

He woke to a door slamming shut and sobs coming from whoever had just entered. The couch was empty, Dick back in his bed and his father in the doorway.

Looking around, he saw Tim in his father’s hold, crying. “I-I knew they were going, b-but it’s too s-oon, I d-don’t want h-im to l-leave-”

“Tim?’ Damian got up and went to the other side of the couch. 

“D-Dami,” He hiccuped. “It-s next w-eek-”

The words sunk in and the world around him crumpled. Rushing blood pounded in his ears, his breathing erratic.

No, no, no, no, please please please don’t let him leave me, he can’t leave with things like this between us still-

“Dami? Dames?”

Please. Please not like this-

“Damian? Damian, can you hear me?’

Oh, God-

The world spun, the tears he didn’t realize were running down his face, the sobs sucking the air from his chest. 

“Damian, breathe with me, okay?”

His emotions were consuming him whole, swirling around him as his surroundings blurred and he tasted the bile rising at the back of his throat. He clamped a hand over his mouth, barely reaching the trash can before his stomach lurched, emptying its contents.

He fell on his knees, the vile taste in his mouth the last thing he remembered before the world went dark.

Damian woke up a few hours later in his bed, Tim curled into his side. A disgusting taste was left in his mouth and he slid out from under Tim, slowly and painstakingly trying to avoid waking him. 

He made his way to the restroom and rinsed out his mouth, brushing his teeth twice to rid himself of the taste. He padded into the kitchen, the smell of cooking food making him nauseous.

“Hey Dames. Tim still asleep?” Duke’s voice came from behind him, his brother sitting on the table with a stack of homework. 

“Yeah.” He slid next to him, despite the angry rumbles of his stomach.

Duke ran a hand through his own hair, offering a tired smile. “You want something? Some ginger ale, toast? A hug?”

Damian shook his head. “I’m thinking I'll go back to bed.”

“Okay.” He leaned over and gave him a quick side hug in thanks before making his way back to the room.

Tim was slightly awake now, curling back into Damian as he laid back down.

“I think I loved him.” Tim whispered, eyes shimmering. “In some way. Platonic or other, but I know I did.”

“I know, Tim.” He inhaled shakily, tears burning his eyes. “I did too.”

“We’re all like birds, you know? A flock, and when some try to fly away with the others, most end up staying anyway.”

Damian buried his nose in Tim’s soft waves, humming softly. “I suppose so.”

The imagery stayed with him the rest of that day, and the next until words pieced themselves together and by the weekend, he had a whole new song. This one, titled Two Birds, would be the most painful for him yet.

He refused to open his phone at all, terrified of missed messages and calls from a certain someone. He wanted to leave it and pretend none of it had ever happened, but that would be impossible. The small flicker of hope telling him to fix what they had left before Jon left was small yet persistent. 

He was unprepared to let go, not ready to lose the steady constant in his life. For the thousandth time, he cursed his feelings, screaming, begging, for the past to be changed and to feel these things for someone else.

When he finally went back to school, he avoided everyone he knew at all costs, hearing his new song coming from more than one direction.

The time dragged on, but was simultaneously too fast. Too much time staring in his direction, too little time to say what he truly wanted to.

School ended much too soon, for that day. He dragged himself home, knowing that up the road was a big white truck, taking one half of his childhood with him.

“Damian?” Tim’s voice was small, having just come from the Kents with Bart and Cassie to give Kon their goodbyes.

“They…they’re still there, for now. If you wanted to…?"

In a fit of courage, he nodded, picking himself up from the couch and slipping on his shoes. The closer he got, the more desperate he got as well, pushing himself farther, too far. He paused, panting, before turning on his phone for the first time in a week and calling Jon's number. 

The phone went straight to voicemail, no matter how many times he called. He picked up speed again and realized with painful horror, that his number had been blocked.

Please, please, please-

He was almost there.

So

Close…

Damian saw the cars pulling out of the driveway and with his last bit of strength he chased after, dropping onto the pavement as they exceeded his limit, away from the house, way from the block.

Away from him.

And they would not be coming back.

Two birds on a wire

One tries to fly away and the other

#damian wayne #jondami #jon kent #Damijon #A robins song #Bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #duke thomas #unrequited love #my writing #angst #Reverse robins #no capes au #Batkids age reversal #Batfam #A Robin's Song #a ROBIN mixtape

[danwhobrowses]

nothing to see here just a crazy shipper guy going crazy over Callowmoore under the bit, if that's not for you then go about your business

So fellow Callowmoores how we feelin' this morning/evening? Because it's evening right now and I'm still bouncing off the walls in my mind

The one post could not keep me contained! No seriously the amount of tags I put in hit a limit and doesn't show them all

I mean yes we didn't get a kiss (yet) but goddamn we got so much, it has possessed me, deranged me, it's leaking outta my brain I gotta talk about it, so either jump out or buckle up because this overflow is gonna be long

First off I just gotta talk about how so many things almost lined up how I imagined them because it just makes it feel like they looked into my head and thought 'hey that's kinda good'. Like, I wanted Fearne to take the shard at Mori's, it was a safer space for her than the Ziggurat which is tainted by bad memories (this and other campaigns), I just didn't expect it so soon, thought they'd at least have a full rest first. In fact I had a whole scene in my mind where in a desperate gambit Delilah took over Laudna while she slept and just knocked on Ashton's door in a form of dread going 'where's the shard Ashton?'. It's key to this I promise not only because I enjoyed the idea of Ashton not taking any of Delilah's shit (plus for you Imodnas out there the mental scene involves Ashton whispering 'Imogen's in danger' to wake her, they also ask where Paté is because they still have that 'Paté is Delilah' theory) but it also expanded on the possible helplessness Ashton would have being unable to assist Fearne with taking the shard

'You're a child, Ashton. A blunt instrument that charges blindly into harm, would you really risk Fearne's life to earn her forgiveness? You know what it can do, what happens when you can't protect her from it?'

Of course, Ashton would never give Delilah the shard, which would frustrate Delilah since she can't manipulate them, but the comment weighs on Ashton a little. Which is when the whole waking Laudna happens and she leaves, but Fearne is in his room (the Vox Machina bathtub scene being inspiration), having asked to sleep there for comfort and asks them if it worries them. Which is where I often got to use this quote

'I don't believe in fate, but I believe in you'

And it sticks with me because it's super romantic, but also on-brand for Ashton, there were variations like the longer 'things only affect our path if we choose to believe they do; fate is complicated, the gods don't give a fuck, and I don't wanna even think about legacy anymore, I don't believe in them, but I believe in you' but then the next morning comes and Ashton gives her the ring, since I forgot about attunement there were instances where it was a sneaky sleight of hand thing, and Fearne completes the process. Of course, with weeks to go on there were a lot more scenarios like Fearne pickpocketing the Ashton doll to practice talking to and putting it back, Ashton seeking Mori for advice, herbal tea visions where Ashton entered their own mind and encounters the empress while on the outside Delilah possesses Laudna to try and drain the power from them, one where the shard having been reshaped through Ashton is less intense on Fearne for the first 4 rounds (since they blew up on the fifth) because Ashton's essence is containing and dissipating the hostile energy, and one where the group secretly vote against Ashton being there for Fearne taking the shard (Imogen, Laudna, and Chetney 3 to 2 against Orym and FCG) but Fearne as the decider pulls them over because she needs them there, stuff like that I'm sure fanfic writers could consume to their heart's content (and are free to, go nuts). But these scenes stood out because it had elements of stuff that are linked to or actually happened in the episode; Fearne does take the shard, Ashton endorses that Fearne is the only one who can take it, Ashton gives her the ring and Shattered Vigor is apparently a thing where Ashton is practically taking Fearne's pain to protect her, that alone is enough to go insane over.

And can we talk about the ring for a moment, because like THE RING. I'm not talking about generically either I mean that this ring has been significant to the shard saga ever since Ashton claimed it. It was found on the corpse of someone infused into stone, into the earth, right between the whole eidolons stuff where Ashton connected with an Earth elemental and then the Grau Dashari stuff with the crystals they merged with their hammer and then the Bor'dor incident, that could've easily been a titan-based punishment. Also, Ring of Volcanic Flesh, like Ashton's stone arm? And if that wasn't enough, what was the first thing Fearne stole from Ashton when they reunited? The ring, the act that broke down Ashton's walls as they let out a most heartfelt 'I missed you, so much' the ring that Fearne stole right off of Ashton's fingers only for them to willingly put in her hand to protect her, because just as they said at the clock tower, everything they have belongs to her. And while legacy and hubris had a part in the shard incident, part of it was also for Fearne. I don't believe there's any situation where if Fearne said she wanted the shard at the clock tower Ashton would've said no; Ashton knows that Fearne was key to the shard dislodging in the lava, they sensed it was in a way key to both of them, but there was no reality where Ashton was gonna force Fearne to take the shard if she didn't want it. And yes it blew up in their face, much like Fearne they saw an image of themselves they didn't want to be, their soul broke with the realisation that they hurt the one person they never wanted to hurt, but thanks to Percy they also realised that they had to change. It wasn't enough to see everyone else having someone at the reunion and internalizing 'if someone has to not come back it's gotta be me' they had to make steps towards being the person the Hells needs them to be, someone who can come back with them.

Which is where last episode started setting it up, and I didn't speak much about it at the time because other than the pretty plain 'I would've rather died than hurt Fearne' insinuation (which in turn was confessed to save Fearne from falling) there was only crumbs that could be interpreted other ways; for instance Birdie's tale with Athion and Olly being somewhat of a parallel to Tevan and Ashton, the formers wooing Birdie and Fearne with temptations of indulgence while the latters drawing their attention by being subjects of intrigue, defiance and kindness, plus they saved the latters (Birdie literally via escaping the prisons and Fearne emotionally and literally), or before the Orym conversation when Ashton takes 'one last look' Taliesin looks towards Ashley last. But I knew there was poetic significance to Ashton failing the communication trial, Marisha sensed the vibe too, but even though Fearne was nervous about guiding Ashton, the fault fell to poor dice rolls (and Liam not keeping shtum and summoning thunderwasps) and once again Ashton in an attempt to prove themselves falls flat on their ass in front of the person they most want to prove it to. And that did break my heart a little I must admit because as poetic as it was who hasn't been there? Ashton's journey of proving themselves has been laden with failure too; being unable to protect anyone from Otohan led to them almost being TPK'd, being unable to keep the group together at the Malleus Key led to the group being scattered, and then Team Trauma's stuff - Orym was despondent and Laudna's a wreck, got a random 'shepherd's boy', a powerful Cobalt Soul teen prodding about the solstice and all of Deni$e here added as mainly combat support, loners but no leaders, Dawnfather angel thinks them insignificant, dark spirits trying to consume their only leads about the Hishari - and the moment Ashton started to trust Bor'dor after the pipe vision what happens? Betrayal, Hunger of the Shadow and Delilah is let back in, Ashton couldn't even keep Laudna safe from herself, they reunite, try to sort out their shit with their past, discover that they might have a destiny to fulfill and end up being too willing to die in place of others, and unable to protect their new family from themselves, because of these recent failures it was important that Ashton proved themselves in the trust trial.

And thankfully they did, there was no way to prove that anyone was a Doppelganger and yet, Ashton still trusted Fearne; twice saving her from the flora even when told to leave her behind. And they were close to another failure when the branch was snatched - after their attempts to keep it safe by throwing it in the pool alone - but they trusted Chet and Orym (father/son duo) to cover more ground while they helped Fearne. And even when FCG told Ashton 'I think it's Fearne', and when Imogen was untrusting of Fearne, Ashton abandoned their held action to save FCG from the brambles because they knew Fearne could be trusted. They trusted Imogen to connect to Ruidus and as mentioned endorsed Fearne to take the shard.

And sure, in my mental scenarios Ashton gives her the shard, doing the same she did for them, but I did say almost like how I imagined. And Ashton still did everything they could, plus Imogen comforted their visible worry, but once it's complete they're just in awe, and then their own spark awakens through her touch, a touch they were unafraid of even at the threat of newfound fire, and now for the first time ever they feel whole. She saved them, and now they finally feel complete, and now this time Fearne is agape, Fearne is in awe, and everything she had hoped Ashton would gain from taking the shard before has come to fruition through her, and it's just, joy, pure incorruptible joy, a kindred connection that belongs to just them. Plus a big piece of paper for all the new powers they are excited to learn about from each other, with each other, and while Matt can talk about there being risks to them because you gotta balance the combat the narrative significance is still there.

But dammit they need to kiss, I've yelled it enough times in my head; like the lava, the clock tower, before and after Fearne took the shard, the only times they did kiss was before the solstice (the forehead kiss) and the ziggurat and both preceded bad times, they deserve a proper one, not one at risk of being a goodbye, something precious, irreplaceable and theirs to have, to share. And I don't know if they should use the patented 'can I kiss you?' or take a tip from BeauYasha and use 'I wanna kiss you so bad right now' or find something else to make their own but I desire it so much, had it happened this ep I probably would've melted out of my seat. They're awkward and nervous but they gotta take the leap, Ashton needs to realise they're loved and maybe even be told that they deserve it even when they feel they don't, and Fearne has to take a risk too, the shard put doubt to her decisions but that doesn't mean she can run from her strong emotions. It doesn't fix everything of course, but sometimes people heal better together than apart. As a currently vorbed half-elf once said 'drink the courage first'.

Curiosity continues to send me after the ep, and while some people are attempting to blemish or rain on the parade (I mean, I try not to speak ill of other ships in general, but if you're gonna be negative about it you can at least do it in your lane, your tags not ours) I am still just riding the high of the possibilities. True, the unknown can make me nervous, and I will admit the group has to give Ashton and Fearne space (they're just excited, and with the bloody bridge hinting to be a final moon-based battle there is that sense of urgency) Imodna had nudges sure but they have been a bit heavy-handed and kinda chaperoned around them, Fearne and Ashton seldom get time alone, one can hope they can get that time with each other next episode.

#critical role #cr 3 #cr 3 spoilers #c3e80 #callowmoore #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #ashton x fearne #fearne x ashton #rockwild #bells hells #for anyone who read the whole thing props to you I understand I unloaded a lot of crazy onto you I'm sorry #I have questions about the new powers too; does Mister get an upgrade? Can elementals be summoned? Is it like a Sorcerer multiclass? #do primordials have a equivalent to divine smite? Can it be used on other champions or Predathos? #how do the divines react to this? Asmodeus wanted them for the Calamity and Dawnfather does seem to hold grudges...Wildmother not so much #and do the titans themselves feel adverse to stopping Predathos? Since it aids their enemy that essentially colonized on them #I fear fuckery next episode of course but today's a good day and I will not let anyone ruin that #I will ride this high as long as I can though but I do also need to sleep I got a travel weekend to do visiting relatives #I am so consumed by this ship that it rivals my own birthday as the best thing to happen this week #I am absolutely unashamedly not normal about them #tag bonus: matching shirts! Precious/Irreplaceable and Adorable/Ignorant also all the Hells have 'if lost return to Nancy' shirts #taliesin jaffe #ashley johnson

[sardonic-sprite]

Rocks Under Tide

written for Whumptober 2022, days 1, 27, 29 (see tags)

author's notes on ao3

"Hey, Dad," Tim called, sloughing his backpack off his shoulder and onto the kitchen table. "I'm home!"

No answer, which was unsurprising. Jack wasn't one to acknowledge Tim's existence unless that existence was beneficial.

He wandered into the living room, frowning when he found it empty. The TV was off, which meant his dad wasn't on a simple bathroom or snack break. 

Tim slid into a fighting stance.

"Dad?" he tried again, creeping out of the living room and hoping he wasn't about to find his father crumpled on the floor, "Are you here?"

The study was empty, but it looked the same as when Tim had last seen it. All of the rooms looked the same, actually, which fairly debunked Tim's Intruder theory.

"Hello!" he hollered. "Dad?"

"Timothy?" 

Tim would have sighed in relief if not for the ice in his father's voice.

"Come up here, now."

Tim swallowed tightly. "Coming!"

He tried to stifle the flood of anxiety, telling himself Jack was just... volatile, and was probably annoyed Tim hadn't cleaned his room or something. Maybe today had been rough for him physically. It didn't necessarily have anything to do with Tim himself.

Tim's bedroom door was wide open, light on. 

He took a deep breath, pressing his hands against his thighs to keep them from shaking.

He probably just saw my report card or something.

Tim had meant to get help with English, really, but his essay - which would make a good 35% of his grade - was supposed to be on To Kill A Mockingbird, and the one time he brought it up, Dick cried and Bruce could only explain that it was one of Jason's favorite books. Tim couldn't ask them to pore over it with him after that.

He meant to go for a casual What's up?, but when he stepped through the doorframe his voice died.

His room was utterly, completely trashed. Dresser drawers all open, contents strewn around the room. Posters torn down, hamper overturned, even his mattress yanked half off the bedframe. His desk had been pulled away from the wall, and everything down to his pencil case had been spilled on top. His laptop was open to his browser history, blessedly clear of anything damning.

Only, that didn't matter.

Because Jack was holding Tim's Robin uniform. 

"What. Is. This?" he hissed, brandishing the kevlar at Tim.

"A cosplay." Tim didn't know how he managed to keep his voice even. He couldn't quite stop himself from blinking too many times. "Forgot I had it, I haven't worn it in--"

"Bullshit."

Tim flinched as the uniform made a loud thwack against the wall. Jack stalked closer, and Tim backed up, tripping over a broken picture frame. Jack pulled him back up by his shirt collar, and Tim had to force down the instinct to strike his attacker and break free.

"Robin, Timothy? What the hell do you think you're doing? At least if it was a gang, there's ways to get out of jail, but--"

"If... what?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you sneaking out of the house every night? For god's sake, how blind do you think I am?"

"I don't--"

"You explain to me, Timothy, you explain to me right the fuck now, what the hell were you thinking? Running around with a madman every night, getting into fights, and getting fucking shot at?"

Tim swallowed hard. "I think I'm helping people."

"'Helping people?'" Jack sneered. He kept walking, pushing Tim in front of him until Tim's back hit the wall. "How naïve are you, Tim? No, how stupid are you? Is that what Batman's been filling your head with?"

"I'm not naïve. And I'm not stupid. I'm saving lives." Under his breath, Tim added, "Some people call me a hero."

"I call you a goddamn idiot! So puffed up on the glory you can't fucking see that that... thing is just using you to give the freak club something else to shoot at. How long did you think you were gonna last, boy? The last Robin fucking died! You're just gonna throw your life away to save one drunk from another?"

Tim tried to blink away the sting behind his eyes. "Batman didn't want me to fight at all, let alone to use me. But I wanted to do something worthwhile, and if I do die--"

"You're sixteen, Timothy," Jack snapped, shoving Tim harder against the wall. "You will not say another word about dying or so help me--"

"Don't tell me you'd miss me," Tim hissed. "Be honest, Dad, you'd be glad if you never had to deal with me again!"

A burst of pain against Tim's cheek and his head whipped to the side. He was still frozen in shock when Jack grabbed his chin and forced them face to face again.

"Timothy Jackson, don't you ever speak to me that way again, do you understand me?"

Tim... Tim... slowly nodded, staring at his father's white face. His cheek was starting to throb. It would probably bruise.

Jack finally let him go and backed away, shoes crunching on several CD cases.

"Good. And this Robin nonsense ends now, do you hear me, Timothy? You're grounded indefinitely. You go to school, you come right the fuck back here and you do not leave this house until school again. If you ever try to sneak out again, I swear to god I'm going to take a belt to you. Count yourself damn lucky I'm not doing it now."

Jack was half out the door when Tim found his voice.

"No."

"No?"

Jack slowly turned around. His eyes were darker than Tim had ever seen them. Tim stepped away from the wall, fists clenched at his sides, and this time when Jack stalked closer, he stood his ground.

"No," he repeated. "I'm not going to stop being Robin."

"This is not a choice, Timothy. I am your father and you will obe--"

"No!" 

This time it was Tim who stepped forward. His breath was coming fast, and his body felt hot and flushed. 

"You don't get to call yourself that. Maybe you made me, but then you left me. You never once acted like a father unless it benefitted you, so don't expect me to give up the one thing that's ever made me feel worth something just because you say so!"

"You will never," Jack roared, spit flying, "go out at night and play superhero again!"

"I'd like to see you stop me."

Tim saw the shift in his father's eyes a second too late. An unnerving mixture of resolve and calculation piercing the pure rage.

And he didn't react in time.

Jack lunged, tackling Tim to the ground. Tim's head struck something hard, and by the time he blinked the stars away, Jack had turned him over, knee planted squarely between Tim's shoulder blades.

"You want me to stop you?" he muttered. "Fine. I'll stop you."

"Get off!" 

Tim bucked, trying to throw Jack off, or get his hands planted to lever up. Jack dug his knee deeper into Tim's back, grabbing his wrists hard as he flailed. He wrenched Tim's arms behind him and shifted to pin them against his back. Tim grunted at the weight.

"You will learn to respect me, Timothy," Jack growled, accompanied by the jingle of a belt buckle. "And I don't care what I have to do to get through to you!"

"Newsflash," Tim snarled back, still squirming and kicking, looking around at the debris for a weapon, "if beating me worked, I'd have quit the first time I ran into the mob!"

"Dear god, boy, do you fucking hear yourself?"

Tim yelped as Jack yanked his wrists back even further, and froze for a fatal second when he felt leather wrapping around his upper arms. His heartbeat kicked up five gears as his father wrapped the belt around and around his arms, tying it off around his palms.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"If this is what it takes to protect you from your own idiocy--"

"FUCK you!"

Tim finally landed a kick against Jack's back. He grunted and toppled right, and Tim tried to roll left only to be blocked by the mattress. He scrambled to get his feet under him and stand, swaying for a few precious seconds before he could stumble towards the door.

He made it a quarter of the way before a sharp tug on his ankle felled him with a cry. Jack clawed his way closer, despite Tim's continued kicking. 

"You... Will never... Go out... there... again!"

Tim's knee jabbed Jack's throat, making him gag, but he was too late. Jack had one hand fisted in Tim's hair. He jerked his head up, then backwards, slamming it into the dresser, and everything went dark.

Tim's head was pounding. His arms and shoulders ached, and the rest of his body felt stiff and sore. He lay on a hard floor, pitifully cushioned by... a blanket?

He opened his eyes, seeing nothing but a sliver of light just in front of him, coming underneath a door and illuminating a hardwood floor identical to the hallways in Drake Manor.

Oh.

Fuck.

Tim bowed his head against the ground, making the throbbing worse. 

That had really happened.

His father had found out Tim was Robin, Tim was stupid enough to openly defy his order to stop, and... and Jack had attacked Tim, tied him up with his belt, and locked him in a closet.

Tim bit his lip, not sure if it was to stop a sob or a scream.

His dad was never supposed to know. Never, because Tim knew he would be livid, knew he would go completely off the rails. 

Yet he'd never imagined something like this. Being kept prisoner in his own home under the excuse of protection.

How had it gotten so bad that Jack locking him up to 'keep him safe' was the only way he could show something like love?

Tim's eyes burned. He bit his lip and kicked at the door, then kicked it again, over and over until his toes were throbbing.

"Stupid," he hissed. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Yes, Dad. Whatever you want, Dad. I'll quit, Dad. Then wait for nightfall and go out anyway.

Then maybe he'd at least be tied up by somebody he could hate.

He shut that thought down, following it immediately with Robin's thoughts, with the process Bruce had drilled him on over and over and over again: what to do if you're captured.

Tim knew where he was, and that he was alone. He didn't know how close his d- captor was, or what his plan was. Keep Tim locked up until he broke? Even after? Forget he ever existed and then stumble on his corpse years later looking for spare linens?

Tim took a deep breath. That line of thought wouldn't help anything. The next step was to determine what was keeping him trapped, and how best to get out of it.

The belt was his most immediate problem. It was tight enough that his arms were starting to tingle. His fingers were already numb. 

Tim closed his eyes and breathed, focusing on what he could still feel. The belt was actually fastened just above his elbows, with the tail wrapping around his forearms and hands until it knotted in his left palm. He picked at the knot with his fingers, hoping it was big enough and loose enough that he could pull it free. 

It took longer than he wanted, but Tim did manage to untie the knot at his hands. The tension around his forearms slackened, and he was relieved by the sting of bloodflow coming back into his fingers.

Only, he could do nothing about the buckle. Tugging the belt's tail failed to do anything other than hurt his arms, and the blanket confounded any attempt to drag the loop against the ground. And not even Dick could have contorted himself to undo it with his hands.

And just like that, Tim was powerless again. The only answer Robin had was endure and wait for rescue or for a better opportunity. 

So Tim waited in the dark, unsure how long it would take for anyone to realize he was missing. Unwilling to hope anyone would, because it only ever made his disappointment worse. Unable to turn off the memories of everything that had gone so wrong.

Uncaring to stop the tears streaming silently down his face.

By the fifth time Bruce checked his phone and set it back down with an anxious Hn, Dick had had enough.

"For the love of God, just call him!" he pleaded.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Tim never answers phone calls, you know this."

"He would for you!"

Bruce's next hum was considering. Dick waited for a short eternity before one of Bruce’s anxieties overrode the other, and he opened his phone to contacts.

After a minute of ringing, the line beeped and Tim's voice said, "Hey, you've reached Tim's cell. Please leave a message, or text if it's urgent."

Bruce sighed and hung up. His eyes slipped to the seat across from him. The empty one where a different boy would sit. Until he stopped answering his phone. Until he was too far away for help to reach him. Then too far for any force on earth to reach him.

Dick stood up.

"I'm going over to check on him," he said.

Bruce looked up at him and nodded silently. Dick didn't wait any longer before hurrying out the back door from the kitchen and starting across the lawn. Logically he knew getting a car or his bike would be faster, but he needed to move.

Speed-walking became jogging became running became sprinting, until he reached the wall between the properties and had to brace against it, breathing hard. He wished he could go up and over, climb in through a window, but with Tim's father around (for once) that would raise too many red flags. So he walked along the wall until it turned the corner and the driveway came into view.

Drake Manor was as imposing and forbidding as ever, too white and square and filled with priceless things to be anything but a museum. Certainly not a home. Dick didn't know how Tim could live alone there so long and not be insane.

He rang the doorbell, bouncing slightly on his heels while he waited. And waited. And rang again. And waited some more, worry building with every second. He was about to go around and find a window when finally footsteps beat towards the door and it swung open.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Jack Drake snapped, glaring.

Dick didn't like the look in his eyes. Fortunately, he was good at charming people he didn't trust.

"Hi, I'm Dick Grayson. My father owns the house next door? We took care of Tim while you were, ah, unable."

"And?"

 Drake's expression shifted from outright hostile to wary, probably triggered by the aside to Bruce Wayne. Every so often Dick was glad to have a famous father.

"Well, traditionally, Thursdays are game night. I just came over to see if Tim was planning to come, since he hasn't been answering his phone."

"Timothy is grounded."

Dick blinked. "Grounded."

"Yes." Drake started to close the door. "Some other time, perhaps."

"Well, could I just say hi?" Dick tried, very nearly sticking his foot in the doorway. 

"No."

And with that, the door shut and the lock clicked. 

"Damn," Dick whispered. 

He didn't like it. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly was setting him off, but there was an uncomfortable twist in his stomach, which only got worse as he turned back down the driveway. 

Was it so impossible for Tim to be grounded? No. Dick loved the kid, but he was wild. He was reckless and independent and never quite knew when to shut up. All reasons Drake could have grounded him.

Taking away Tim's phone with the grounding also made some kind of sense, and Dick knew Drake didn't much like him or Bruce, so it wasn't surprising he'd shut Dick out, but...

The nagging feeling wouldn't go away, whispering over and over that he needed to see Tim safe or risk failing him the way he'd failed Jason. By not being there when his brother needed his help.

Dick waited until he was out of sight of the house, then doubled back around the side towards Tim's room. He climbed up the oak tree outside the window and dropped down onto the eaves to look inside.

Tim's room looked like a hurricane had hit it. There wasn't a single surface not littered with personal debris. Clothes, books, papers, CD cases, school supplies. The furniture had been yanked away from the walls, and the mattress was half off the bed frame.

The pit in Dick's stomach sank deeper.

He pulled open the window and slipped inside, consciously calming his breathing. He had to stare at the ground to avoid tripping on or breaking anything, and the view showed him that other people had not been so careful.

"Tim?" he called softly. "Are you here?"

He knew Tim wasn't. Tim wasn't a neat freak like Jason, but even he would never just leave his room in such a state. Dick could try to hope he was just... getting a trash bag or dust cloth, or, or in the bathroom. But then he saw an all-too-familiar shade of red.

Robin. Robin's suit just crumpled against the wall, and Dick could feel his heart speeding up because Tim would never treat his and Jason's legacy that way.

"Tim!" 

Dick yanked open the door and started into the hall. He didn't much care if Jack Drake found him. In fact, he'd like to ask the man a few questions. 

Timothy is grounded. No, you can't see him.

Was he trying to cover up that some villain had found out Tim's secret and kidnapped (not killed, not killed) him?

Or was he the reason Tim was nowhere to be seen?

"Tim, can you hear me?"

"What the hell?" 

Jack Drake came storming up the stairs, face scarlet when he saw Dick.

"How the hell did you get up here? This is private property!"

"Where's Tim?"

"I'll call the police--"

"And explain to them why your son is missing and you're not doing anything about it?"

"What are you talking about?" Jack sneered.

"This!" Dick pointed to Tim's open door and the trashed room inside. "It's nothing short of a warzone, and Tim would have been right in the center of it! What are you hiding, Jack? Where is Tim?"

"My son is not your problem anymore. Leave. Now."

"Tim!" Dick hollered, staring Jack in the eyes and daring him to make a move. "Tim, if you're here, answer me!" 

"Dick?"

The horrible twist in Dick's stomach finally relaxed, even as he narrowed his eyes at Jack.

"Dick, I'm here!"

Tim's cry was distant and muffled, but Dick could tell he was farther down the hall, behind Jack. Jack clenched his jaw and curled his hands into fists as he hissed, "Get. Out."

"I will fight you," Dick warned. "And I will win."

Jack yelled and threw a punch. Dick pivoted and let Jack's force carry him on, sweeping his legs out from under him with one kick. Jack snarled and tried to get up, but Dick pinned him with one foot against his back.

"If Tim has been hurt or violated because of you," Dick murmured, "I will make you pay for it, no matter what it does to me."

"Who the fuck do you think you are!?"

Dick leaned down, Jack grunting at the shifting weight, and whispered, "Well, if Tim is Robin..."

Jack went utterly still. He didn't move even when Dick let him go. Dick scoffed and turned back down the hall, running towards Tim's voice.

Tim kept yelling, "Here! Dick, I'm here!" and kicking the door until he could hear Dick just outside calling, "I got you, Tim, I got you!"

He stopped kicking and a minute later the lock clicked and the door swung open.

"Tim?"

"Down here," he sobbed.

Dick's knees folded to reveal his face. Tim had never seen it so tight and angry.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, voice incongruously soft with his expression. "Let's get you out of there."

He took hold of the blanket and backed up, sliding Tim out of the closet. He snarled when he saw the belt binding his arms.

"I'm sorry," Tim stammered, "I couldn't get it off--"

Dick shushed him, leaning over to fuss with the buckle. Tim bowed his head to rest it against Dick's knee, soaking his jeans with tears. He felt the tension give, and seconds later was swept into a bone-crushing embrace, Dick stroking his hair and whispering, "It's ok. It's gonna be ok."

"I didn't... I... How did you...?"

"You weren't answering your phone," Dick breathed. He pulled back, taking Tim's face in his hands and turning it side to side, then taking his arms and squeezing his hands to warm up his fingers. "We were so scared, baby bird."

"I'm ok," Tim tried, "really--"

But Dick was shaking his head.

"Tim," he said slowly, forcing Tim to meet his gaze. "Has your dad hurt you like this before?"

"It's for his own damn good!" 

Tim jumped at his father's voice, shrinking behind Dick as he stood up, squaring off with Jack, fists clenched.

"He's a child, my child, and I refuse to let him out on those streets again."

"Tim hasn't been your child since you took that first flight to Cusco," Dick hissed.

Jack flinched.

"And if you hadn't given up your right to him then, you sure as hell did when you tied him up and locked him in a goddamn closet."

Dick reached down a hand to Tim, never breaking his stare as he pulled Tim to his feet and nudged him behind.

"I'm taking Tim home now."

"You can't just--"

"For his sake we'll give you the chance to sign over custody quietly."

Jack gawked, mouth hanging open despite the fury in the rest of his body. Tim shrank against Dick as he carefully led him around his father and down the hall, never letting go of his hand.

"You're gonna be ok," Dick promised again.

"Did you really mean--"

"I'll tell!"

Dick yanked Tim behind him again as he whirled to face Jack, recovered from his shock and with the same crafty look in his eyes that had ended with Tim bound and imprisoned. 

"You take him away, I'll tell the whole city your secret!"

Tim's breath caught, but Dick squeezed his hand.

"Try it."

Jack's smugness faded to confusion. Even Tim glanced up at Dick anxiously, not knowing where he was going.

"Tell the whole city. See how many Rogues and mobs all come after you, asking how you found out and what else you know. See how long they'll bother to ask nicely. See how long it takes them to recognize Tim and go after you as bait. See if he saves you after everything you've done."

Tim shivered. When Jack's eyes slid to him, suddenly fearful, he wanted to throw up. He pressed even closer to Dick to steady himself.

After a minute of silence, Dick scoffed, "That's what I thought," and gently tugged Tim onward again, leaving Jack standing stupefied in the hall.

"Dick, I-"

"It's gonna be ok, Tim. We'll make sure he doesn't--"

"Did you mean it? About taking me back?"

Dick stopped and turned to him, putting his hands on Tim's shoulders and looking straight into his eyes.

"Tim, we never wanted you to go in the first place. Bruce was ready to adopt you outright before your father woke up." Dick tugged him into another tight embrace. "And you have always been my baby brother."

Tim blinked hard, but it still couldn't stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks.

"Oh, sweetheart," Dick sighed, brushing away the tears. "C'mon. Let's go home."

#whumptober 2022 #no. 1 #no. 27 #no. 29 #unconventional restraints #this wasn't supposed to happen #muffled screams #pushed to the limit #defiance #batman #fic #child abuse #tim drake #dick grayson #angst

[lunaticus-platina]

I'm only gonna talk about this once in ted tag cuz I don't wanna muck up the tag. Any other stuff related to the whole incident goes to the contedversy 2022 tag. 🚬 Oh almost forgot. Cheers to @verat9c for the awesome tag you go peep.

Hey folks. I've had a long day. I usually get long days. My days are busy. I come home, stretch my joints, try not to let all the trapped screams inside my lungs leak out of its chambers. Or fall into the sweet temptations of substance abuse. I mean coffee. I ain't a smoker and forswore alcohol a year ago. Tho the urge for a cancer stick grows every week. Especially after smth like this.

Only other addiction of mine is simpin. I open tumblr as usual and what do I see? Yeah. I peeked into Twitter all those years ago and said 'Yeah-ap. Not staying a single second longer in this hell.' And booked it. This place? At least it's fun here. But I keep forgetting most of social media's the same. But I gave away all my fucks I had in me some years ago........I'm just high on caffeine.

@tedraimisimp If ya reading this. I know you deleted your blog. I respect your decision. And no, what you did wasn't exactly wrong, you just shared your experience and ranted abit. We all do that. But you forgot, that this is tumblr.

I know you didn't ask but just so you know...that wasn't the best move. Deleting a blog after that post. People are just gonna pile on speculations and things are gonna go conspiracy level real quick. I know how it goes. Seen enough drama in my time. They already say you deleted blog because you felt threatened or some shit. You planted a ping-pong ball sized molehill, and look at em building mountain over it!

Every single social media that I've been on. Exact same pattern. Never fails once. Whether popular and well-known platform, or not. Doesn't matter. There's faintest blood in the water........piranhas gather.

What breaks my goddamned heart is a fan who excitedly prepared for an event and shared their sweet experience with us now deleted their posts over this shit. Do people not think about the consequences of their actions these days? No I ain't bashing tedraimisimp I just said what they did wasn't wrong. It's those who are blowing this outta proportion and making ops uncomfortable.

For those of you who didn't have an actual experience with Ted. Shut your goddamn trap. Fucking shut it. Let the ones who actually were there talk. I need more evidences to hear from both sides to decide what is valid or not, and all the noises are not helping.

Now the ones who posted about their actual, real, positve/negative experiences, not the 'oh someone posted and mentioned this this and this' idiots, are getting uncomfortable. Just shut the fuck up for once and learn to listen.

Someone shared their experience. That's all. Op wanted to rant because they thought this fandom was safe to talk about stuff and their concerns. You are not making it safe. Yes I like Ted Raimi as an actor. No accusing him of things when there is no actual proof is wrong. Stop making him sound like a predator.

You don't know how many people got their lives ruined over false accusations. Over here it's hella common. All I need is an evidence and I'll gladly shove all my words down my throat. It's innocent until proven guilty.

I was personally a victim of witch-hunting style bullying. One person started a rumor, things snowballed into 'That kid is mentally disabled and carries contagious disease. An orphan. They are a virus. Yuck! Hope they die so we don't have to deal with them in our class. They also steal stuffs. A thief. Check your bags!'

I never fully recovered from it. I was called a 'plague'. Reason of bullying was simple. I was a quiet bookworm. Never talked much, not smiling much. They called me a psychopath and jokingly said one day I'll bomb the school. My best friend now had a similar experience. Those who throw accusations have no idea what the fuck they are doing. People commit suicide over that shit. Fucking shut it, christ.

Now if any of you personally had an unpleasant experience with Ted. Sorry to hear that. But thx for sharing. I needed to hear more 'cuz no person is perfect and I wanted to know more flawed side of him too. If he really has a darker side, and if it's serious, it'll be revealed sooner or later. You don't get to call him terrible stuffs just because he follows someone on social media or flirted with people. Watch your language, don't say what you don't mean, although now that I think about it, that motto that I live by don't mean much on internet does it.

God, fuck, gah my social battery is dying. All I wanted was to chill over wholesome stuffs but now I got this. Imma go watch horse feeding or smth cuz this just proves animals are better to deal with than humans. I can't even write fics in this state godhelpme

#ted raimi #why can't people be neutral and fking listen quietly before jumping to conclusions in another dimension #just gonna hope ops the best wishes and thank them for sharing experiences #the contedversy 2022

[trent-seven-army]

Believe Me - Chapter 1

A Real Man

Pairing: Pete Dunne x OFC

Other Main Characters: Matt Riddle, William Regal

Category: Angst

Warning(s): Swearing, domestic abuse, implied self harm, implied non-con

Tags - Let me know if you want to be added!!: @sldghmmr

Authors Notes:

I posted this a while ago on my A03, but I deleted my account oops. So I’m gonna repost on here! Chapter a day ;) Also, whilst I know the real names of Pete’s wife & his daughter.. I decided to change them for the sake of this story. Hopefully that doesn’t bother anyone, and I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

~~~~~~~~

Pete had spent hours there - sat alone, TV on, though barely paying attention. Honestly, he was bored out’ve his mind. He thought about playing some music, finding a book to read, or throwing some trainers on and going for a run. Anything. But at least the boredom came with a silver lining; there was no chance of him doing something wrong; it wasn’t the most fun, but it was the most safe.

Noticing how dry his mouth was, he glanced towards the sink.

For Fuck’s sake, just get a drink. She can’t be mad at you for drinking water. Just stand up, you’ll be fine.

Despite the mental pep talk, Pete’s body sank further into the cushions. They weren’t comfortable, he wasn’t comfortable. They were okay at first, familiar if nothing else, but the corners awkwardly dug into his back, and he was beginning to cramp. Still, he wouldn’t dare move them. Creasing them was bad enough.

The clock ticked, as it did every minute, and every time Pete slightly flinched. By this point, he’d muted the TV (He can only watch the same Peaky Blinders episode so many times). The quiet was half refreshing. Opportunities to clear his mind were few and far between, and the silence made a change from the tedious background noise. That being said, it also left room for Pete’s imagination to fill in the blanks, which wasn’t always kind to him. Every tick became a bang, every breeze a howl.

Mercifully, Pete’s phone started ringing; it was an excuse to move, and his tense muscles were more than grateful. Straightening his frame, he pressed accept without bothering to check who it was.

“Hey Bro!”

Matt. Of course it was.

“Hey..” Pete replied, a surge of relief overtaking him.

Though he’d never give Matt the satisfaction of saying it out loud, Pete had really missed his voice. It’d been a few weeks since they last spoke, which should be understandable - Riddle was a champion now, and NXT’s schedule wasn’t too light either. Deep down though, Pete knew he could’ve tried harder to see him, or even just called him. He had all the excuses ready, that being a good boyfriend and father meant less of a social life. But they were just that. Excuses.

“I almost forgot what you sounded like bro, have you been okay?”

“Yeah, course.” No. “Just busy.”

Matt was the closest thing to a best friend Pete had; he genuinely wanted to be more chatty, indulge in random conversations and laugh until their sides hurt. God, it’d been so long since Pete laughed.. But Matt could read him like a book. If he said too much, he’d find out.

“Are you sure..? It’s just, I heard you missed promo class at the PC again? I’m worried about you..”

He knows. You let it go too far, and now he fucking knows. He’ll tell Damian, because of course he will, and the whole locker room will find out. They’ll all see how pathetic you are.

“M’fine.” Pete grumbled. “I don’t fucking need promo class.” He flared.

Matt sighed down the phone - it wasn’t quite anger, not even frustration. It mainly echoed concern, not that Pete deserved it. He’d love to give a logical reason for missing class, like fatherly duties, or a measly temperature. The truth however? Last week, he was lying in the bath, and couldn't bring himself to get out; the week before that, he was too exhausted after sleeping on the goddamn floor for two nights.

“You know Pete, I don’t think Regal would like hearing you say that.”

“Regal’s not here, is he?”

Most people were used to Pete’s aggression; not everyone could handle it, but expected it nonetheless. Everyone besides Pete that was. His abrasion was never intentional, yet somehow became inevitable.

“Do you wanna.. talk?” Matt asked sincerely.

Yes. “I’m good mate, seriously. Guess I’ve just been a bit cranky.. April’s not been sleeping great.”

What kind’ve man blames his daughter? What the fuck are you doing?? Just tell him! TELL HIM!!

“Well Stallion, it’s your lucky day - it’s my night off, so I’m taking you for a beer.” Riddle said, and Pete could just hear the goofy smile on his face. “No arguments.” He added.

Two friends grabbing a beer; it sounded simple, because it was, or at least should be. The offer was unknowingly weighted however, and Pete’s stomach was knotting. Too much could go wrong. What if he got drunk? He might start talking, start revealing things that were better left unsaid. As sad as it was, Matt was the only real friendship in Pete’s life - he couldn’t risk fucking that up. No one could know.. But Matt especially.

“M-mate.. I can’t leave April on her own.”

“Won’t Millie be home? They can have a mother/daughter night while the Broserweights take over Orlando!” Matt laughed.

If literally anyone else was asking this, Pete would shut it down in seconds. Not that anyone else would bother asking - years of distancing himself meant people stopped trying - Matt just had this annoying habit of being loyal. Pete was thankful for that really.

“...Fine. Text me which pub, I’ll meet you at 8.” He gave in.

“That’s my guy!!”

“One beer, you hear me? Just one.”

“Whatever you say Bro. See you later!”

“Bye..” Pete said shakily, despising his nerves for creeping through his voice. Just tell him. “...M-Matt..?” He began, before realising he’d already hung up.

Sighing deeply, Pete once again peered towards the sink. And once again, he stayed put. That was enough bravery for one day.

Whatever you do, don’t let Matt know. He’s only inviting you out of pity, he doesn’t actually care. What good reason does he have?? You stopped calling him, he probably hates you. He hates you just like everyone else does. If you told him, he’d laugh in your face. Don’t fucking tell him.

The clock ticked, he jumped.

****

What felt like years later, the front door unlocked, and Pete’s breath simultaneously calmed down and sped up. Only a second passed before his beautiful little girl was toddling towards him, still dressed in her butterfly coat and wellies.

Leaning backwards, Pete lifted April onto his knee, his eyes lighting up from her perfect smile. Of course, he looked forward to seeing Matt later, despite the unrelenting nerves. But nothing made Pete happier than a sweet hug from his baby girl. April was easily the best thing about him; championship reigns paled in comparison to being a father.

As he unzipped April’s jacket, Pete blew a silly raspberry onto her tiny forehead, causing her to laugh hysterically.

“You haven’t seriously been on that couch all day?” Millie said mockingly, grabbing his attention.

Mustering a smile, Pete suppressed the embarrassment. Her judgmental eyes were a sting to the ego, but they were mostly understandable. What kind’ve man just stays in one place the whole fucking day?? Besides, Millie looked like she’d endured a long day herself; her blue orbs were sunken in, and she was weighed down by heavy-looking grocery bags. She deserved some slack.

“W-was April alright at daycare?”

“Well your girlfriend's day was lovely, thanks so much for asking.” Millie answered sarcastically.

“..M’sorry.” He bowed his head.

Don’t make this worse. You haven’t even told her about Matt yet. Don’t say anything stupid.

The blonde woman carried their shopping bags into the kitchen, rolling her eyes as she passed through the living room. Again, Pete did all he could to ignore it, focusing his attention onto April - at least she looked happy to see him.

Keeping an eye on his girlfriend, he let April playfully tug on his hair whilst mentally building up courage.

“Mil..? Please can you get me a drink?”

“Christ’s sake Pete, can you not do anything for yourself?” Millie snapped, slamming a cupboard door shut.

Pete flinched, more visibly than he would’ve liked. Not in front of April anyway; she deserved a daddy like Superman, not the scared little boy he often felt like.

“It.. it’s okay, I’ll come do it.”

Lifting April onto her play-mat and passing her a teddy, Pete cautiously walked to the sink. This was the first time he’d moved in about six hours. Thinking about it now, he was so stupid; anyone can fill a glass with water. No wonder he only had one friend left, the rest of them probably got tired of his bullshit. What kind’ve man braves wrestling matches, but ends up frightened of a fucking drink??

Taking a gulp, Pete realised just how dehydrated he must’ve been. Between that and the muscle cramps, his body really didn’t thank him. Nor did his mind to be honest.

“Give me your wallet.” Millie instructed, holding out her hand expectantly.

Without hesitation, he reached into his jean pocket and passed it over. Maybe he ought to question her motives, but ultimately, he didn’t want the argument - he was too run down, too drained of energy. Besides, April was in the room; above anyone else, she didn’t need to see how their arguments ended.

Gleefully taking two £20 notes from him, Millie handed back the empty wallet.

“For the shopping.” She stated.

“I.. I thought you were-“

“You thought I was paying? Wow, I really found a gentleman, didn’t I?”

“You know I don’t mind!” He defended, his guard raising. “It’s just.. well, that was for tonight.”

Bracing himself, he knew Millie wouldn’t like this.

“Tonight?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Um.. yeah, I was gonna tell you. Matt asked me out for a few beers.”

Instinctively, Pete took a few steps backwards, his shoulders leaning inwards. Her face said it all - the arched brows, that scowl which could make anyone feel uneasy - she was pissed. Look what you’ve done now, you really can’t help fucking up can you?? Now April is gonna see, she’ll see how useless her dad is, and soon everyone else will too. Well fucking done.

“Please don’t be angry..” he shivered, mumbling under his breath.

Millie scoffed. “You make that frickin’ difficult. I thought we were gonna spend the night together?”

“I.. I won’t be out for long. I’ve promised him I’ll go.”

“Oh, well if you’ve promised, that changes everything - who cares if you have a girlfriend and daughter at home, right?”

Just don’t look upwards, don’t let her see you frightened. You’ll make it worse, you always do. Stay quiet, stay fucking quiet, don’t you dare move a muscle. You’ve been still on that couch since waking up, you can stop fidgeting for an extra five minutes. Even someone like you can manage that. Just stop. Fucking. Moving.

“Do what you want Pete, you always do.” She huffed, barging past his tense body to go upstairs.

Once Millie’s presence left the room, Pete’s chest nearly exploded from his exhale; he didn’t even know it was possible to hold so much breath. Feeling dizzy from the sensation, he lowered himself onto the floor, hunching over to help with the breathing. Dark thoughts were creeping around his brain; they did everyday, it was nothing new. But they also progressively got worse.

Pete struck himself across the side of the head. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic.

“Da-ddy?”

Eyes flickering upwards, Pete was mortified to see April stood there. The thought of those innocent eyes watching him smack himself.. what if she copied him?? However, rather adorably, she held out her beloved teddy bear, offering it to her daddy. With a soft smile, he accepted the gift, and held Mr Cheesecake (April’s choice of name) close to his heart. Suddenly , he didn’t feel so bad.

****

Avoiding eye contact with the mirror, Pete dragged a comb through his hair. Millie was putting April to bed, and the quiet felt no less intimidating than before. Soon enough, he’d be in a busy pub atmosphere, with enough hustle and bustle to stay distracted. Besides, the entertaining stories of Matt Riddle would be a welcomed change from daily life. Even so, the dread of coming home afterwards was stronger than any kind’ve excitement Pete had.

Clunkily standing up, the reflection of Pete’s torso caught him off guard; he wasn’t sure where the wrestling bruises ended and the home-life battle scars began.

Why do you let her do this? She’s barely 5’4, you’re the goddamn Bruiserweight! You could stop her if you tried, but you just take it! Imagine what people would say, how hard they’d laugh at you. Nobody would ever take you seriously in WWE again, not if they knew your pathetic little secret. Regal, Hunter, Shawn; they’d all lose their faith in you. Hell, their belief in you now is nothing but a fucking scam.

Embarrassed from the sight, the wounded man scrambled to hide the evidence, throwing a shirt on. He looked at the clock, 7:26pm - time to set off.

Turning around, Millie was stood in the doorframe. Strangely, her expression was.. Soft? Dare he say, close to apologetic? She walked over, delicately wrapping her arms around Pete’s waist. Despite intuitively concealing a flinch, he was genuinely grateful to have this; it minimised the fear of returning later on. Above anything else though, at one point, Pete fell in love with this woman. Maybe she wasn’t gone completely..?

“I’m sorry about earlier.. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” She whispered, squeezing him tighter.

With a sigh, Pete lightly hugged her back, tracing his hands along her back. Once upon a time, this was how they always were; a picture perfect, intimate, beautiful couple. There wasn’t anything Pete wouldn’t give to start over, to stop himself from screwing up their relationship into whatever it’s since become.

“I’m sorry too..” He said, kissing the top of her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Millie repeated. “..We need to start being better, Pete. I don’t want to lose you, and April deserves us both.”

He wasn’t lying; he did love her; this version of her anyway. But he still couldn’t relax in her embrace. Of course, the uncommon apologies and tender affections were nice while they lasted, but they soon ended. It wouldn’t be long before Pete fucked up and caused another fight. Granted, it was never intentional, but always somehow his fault.

“Come on.. I wanna make it up to you..” Millie smiled, taking his hands and guiding them both to their bed.

I don’t want to.

“I.. I have to go, Mil. I’m going out, r-remember..?”

There it was: their next fight.

As she folded her arms, clearly upset by his rejection, Pete’s breath hitched. Hardly ever did he refuse her, usually to keep the peace. Tonight would’ve been no different if he didn’t have plans. Not knowing what to say, he just kept stuttering, which visibly fuelled Millie’s temper.

“We haven’t spent the night together in weeks, and you’d rather go out and get wasted??” She spat.

“When I get back.. We could..”

What are you doing?! Any man would kill to be in your position - having a beautiful woman who wants him so much. Why are you turning her away? Because you’re just not in the mood? There’s something wrong with you.

“When you get back? Why should I play second fiddle to that stoner freak??” Millie continued. “Awww Pete, is that it? Do you fancy him? Would you rather fuck him than me?” she said in a sarcastic baby voice, seemingly to humiliate him.

“I.. Please, Mil. I’ll bring home some wine or something. We can watch a film, make a real night of it!”

Please don’t make me. I don’t want to.

Then you’re pathetic.

“Are you cheating on me?” She asked coldly.

“What? No!”

Hysterically, Millie grabbed Pete’s collar and began shaking him; the fear in his eyes was obvious, not that she paid attention. There were mumbled, stuttered pleas for her to stop, but they fell on deaf ears.

“I bet you’re not even meeting him! You’re meeting some random slut!”

By this point, Millie was crying wildly; Pete wanted to sob too, he just wouldn’t let himself. The shaking got worse, and he fell to one knee before her. Denying the accusations meant nothing - they weren’t true - but Millie’s mind was fixated and couldn’t be changed.

“You don’t want me because you’ve found a bimbo to fuck?!”

Being shaken turned into repeated smacks around the head. He attempted to cower away, but she was cruelly incessant.

“Please.. Stop.” He begged in between the strikes.

“Why should I??”

Her voice was scratchy, like her vocal chords were drenched in tears. An accusatory tone was evident in every little thing she said, like all of this was Pete’s own doing. Taking a fist of his hair, Millie yanked his head back, and raised her opposite fist to punch him.

“I’ll do it!” He screamed, completely terrified. “I.. I’ll do it.. I’ll stay home..”

With a demeaning, bitter chuckle, Millie untangled her fingers from Pete’s hair. He was whimpering, hiding his face away from her. Frightened tears threatened to pierce through his eyelashes, but he swiftly blinked them away. Don’t fucking cry, you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.

“Fine.” Millie said. “But you’ll have to do a lot of work to get me in the mood after that.”

Her glance felt so degrading, but he was used to that. At least the hitting was over. Walking to their bed, Pete mentally prepared himself. You’ve done this so many times before. You’ll be okay. Just close your eyes, imagine you’re somewhere else; it’ll be over soon, and she’ll fall asleep. We can get through this..

God, you’re so fucking broken. Pathetic.

~~~~~~~~~

Hopefully I’ve convinced you to give the rest of this story a chance! ;)

#wwe #wwe fanfiction #fanfic #nxt uk #british wrestling #wwe nxt #pete dunne #matt riddle #angst

[lyrebright]

Over the past two work days, I got through the last chunk of TMA S1 episodes I had left, and got through the first two episodes of S2.

Those S2 episodes will get their own post about my thoughts, but here I just want to ramble about how I felt approaching the season finale.

MAG033: I actually posted about starting this episode a few days back; I won't reiterate my thoughts on the opening when they're already there in my liveblog tag.

That said: it's still really funny.

The actual content of the statement actually did manage to live up to the absolute banger of an opening though; in a stunning display of memory that I rarely possess I do in fact remember the Lukas family being mentioned and involved in another statement and it seems they are, indeed, just That Fucked Up.

Rumour come out: Does Institue Sponsors Is Spooky?

How badly did I just age my online presence with that.

MAG034: another live statement!

Finally, I have context to the anatomy students I've had mentioned. I've literally had no context except that there are anatomy students in TMA somewhere and my friends stan them, apparently, so this was a big moment for me. Very exciting.

Idk what the teacher's problem was I support these inhuman monstrosities getting an education.

Could've done without the teeth apple maybe.

ANOTHER FUCKED UP BOOKS EPISODE (minus fucked up book?)

omg baby gerard. little shitty teen gerard.

Knowing things I know now from the season finale I am looking back at it like Hmm because honestly outside of 1) baby gerard and 2) the closing statement it didn't really stand out that much to me?

(A friend informed me that Mr Smirke was like a real dude tho so :0)

Speaking of the closing statement: I see you delivery guys. I see you.

I know we literally get it confirmed that these delivery guys are Those Delivery Guys but I sussed it out immediately!! Prommy!! I am very smart.

I was listening to MAG036 as I was doing a second coat on a door frame I'd painted the day before and a little beetle was very determined to crawl into my fresh paint and that did not help my experience with this episode.

Might have enhanced it in a way, though?

Just a solid spooky Ugh from the statement though Jon in the closing statement bringing up Vampire Guy and saying that his female companion seemed familiar...i was not given enough of a description of her in any way to lay claim to that same familiarity so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

spiders. Hmm.

And that table. God. I'll get more into my thoughts about it later. It'll be more relevant around the actual finale.

MAG037: confirmation about the delivery men! Good to have

Gertrude FR What Was Up With You

(The finale has only given me more questions)

Jon's repeated stating of how tired he is across the past few episodes has me ):

MAG038: this episode was so mean

I can't believe this cursed piece of monster furniture literally stole this man's husband.

if you or a loved one has been victimised by homophobic furniture, you may be entitled to

trauma

I'm gonna be upset about this forever.

This is the npc statement I'm choosing to Stay Mad about

God I was so caught up in homophobic ceramics I forgot: hello third mike.

I've been helpfully informed there's only like, four Mikes I need to keep straight, but that is still honestly entirely too many Michaels.

What Jonny Sims has in writing talent he lacks in the ability to name characters things other than Michael (or some variation of)

The ending to this episode blew my goddamn eardrums out I swear

Time for the fun stuff though!

:D

Actually you know what. The finale episodes get their own post. Hang on.

#lyre does tma #tw: furniture that hates you and your husband so so much #honestly this entire run of episodes minus my good pals The Anatomy Students just felt like #a sprint to the finale? #like the statements were as well written as ever and some added important Hinty Tidbits #but the opening/closing statements were the real star of the show #anyway #it's worm wife hour gang

[wanderingpages]

Chapter 6??? Already?????  Im gonna cry…but also i trust you peach…not to leave this on hiatus indefinitely ahem 🥰😛

“when it started as a tease, but he kept quiet after seeing the panic and distraught look on my face.” aww he eased up that day… i love the small tidbits we get from that day ngl its like a little puzzle fr

“Like I had wished back then, I wish now to open the car door and fling myself into oncoming traffic.” omg Jude, no!

I love that he just lets her fuck around and be nosy with his car like thats couple behaviour sir u better stop before i propose.

“One is shaped like a curved hardware nail, the other like a star with a pearl dangling from it. ” curved nail - girl he got cartier just layin in his car??? ( i got side tracked and tried to google the other earring bye i know that bitch not from target) wait omg 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 he said u like em? Keep em 😌😌😌😌 and she said bet

Aww jude said fuck the money - you literally lived this close to me for HOW long????? Noooo this is so sad like what if they really had met before asha and madoc???? Like whattttttttttt naurrrrrrrrrr i am so sad about this new set of information 

🙈🙈🙈 anyways damn whats up w asha treating cardan like glass or smthn feels fishy 😠👀 (Trust NO one ..Not even YOURSELF) god my skin has goosebumps like jude is really calling him dad and cardan really calling her mother and those two are really married and yall kids is finger poppin each other in diners like wow. I forgot this was tagged taboo lol u got me there peach… we love sinning and being sinners 👁️👄👁️

“If I think about it too much now, I’ll see the erratic behavior for what it is and maybe stuff Cardan has told me before, about how unfit his mother was, would start to make sense. But it was her way of coping, which is no worse than my scarred fingers or my willfully ignorant father.” — ohhh not her her just slipping in her madoc being a dick right here.

Goddamn  asha’s betty homemeaker getup grinds my gears i know shes hiding something!!! If cardan dont trust her neither do i !!!!!!!

Wait shut up peach not the three stuffies she had in the books awwwww i love all the easter eggs 🥰

Oh wow asha keeping cardans room like a shrine is insane considering this is the first time hes stepped foot in this house (hot girl math time ) one year since the wedding, one year of engagement and im just gonna assume one year of dating, so 3 years abd this si the first time mans is stepping foot in the house wow. Peach i think Asha might be delulu. 

GIRL NOT THE BIBLE IN THE DRAWER LMAO

Peach is it the same cross from the dressing room thats in their kitchen?? Peach… peach. lmao

Damn not cardan doing a jumpscare, sir it is 3 am (Im lying idk what time it is but for my own headcannon it is 3am)

“His thumb reaches towards me, and he swipes down the corner of my lips, rubbing away the smear of red and brown, making my knees feel weak because suddenly, I'm in that booth at the diner again and I want him to paint me as red as those cherries.” - stoppp peach…. Your writing…. Ugh

“I stick my middle finger up at his back, annoyed that he can switch his emotions around so easily, annoyed that he plays this game better than I do, annoyed that I had even given him the green light so many months ago, thinking I could best him somehow.” - omg i … TEA🤪

Omg i love her friendship with Vivienne bless her

“At the end of the day, Asha isn’t my mom, but she’s done more for me in three years than my real mom has done in five.” first, my hot girl math was right!!! Im so slay for that fr! But second TEA but i knew . cus i read between th e lines. I pick up what u put down. 😌😌

““Don’t ‘what’ me – the car ride, you dick,” Vivienne huffs and it’s funny, so I can’t help but giggle. “With Mr. Oh-no-step-bro-I’m-stuck-under-a-table,” She elaborates. “Dude… I can’t help but live vicariously through you right now – like are you guys fucking? In the same house your parents are fucking? That’s so gross,” She snorts, and I make a face.” I SCREAMED! ALSO JUDE UR A LIAR TO SAY NO ONE IS FUCKING ANYONE cus … YET OK YET

““Just be safe, ‘cus it’s going to be super weird when Jude Jr. pops out and you have to explain that her daddy is also her uncle.”” - so vivienne is my everything absolutely unconditionally 

Aww babygirls a runner shes a trackstar 🥰🥰 i also like this tidbit of character. Send that bitch to the olympics peach

Oh mentions of Fand…foreshadow? 

Jude being sad about her fingers 😔😔😔😔 baby….baby gurl….

“Therapy might help, but Dad is against it. I guess he doesn’t want to know what the root cause of it is – doesn’t want it said out loud, at least.” oh its on site madoc… ON SITE ACROSS EVERY UNIVERSE 

“Why had I put myself through torture to steer clear of him when I feel so at peace now next to him?” – girl we wondering the same things fr twins.

““Why is it that we live together now, and I see less of you? Are you avoiding me?”” – hes so blunt about everything involving her lmao its truly incredible

“”I am. Avoiding you. My heart beats faster around you. My palms get clammy and my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. It hurts to breathe sometimes,” I explain my anxiety, twisting the joint to read the words, wondering if it says something profound. “Can’t mean anything good,” I mumble. “It’s like walking across a narrow bridge with nothing beneath to catch my fall.”” – I GOT THIS REFERENCe !! – “ “Are you scared of me, dear sister?” ” AHHHH

““I think you’re prettiest when you're honest.” Cardan reaches his hand to ruffle my hair. I try to bat it away, but his fingers dig in a little tighter, weaving through and under the bun I’ve haphazardly attempted earlier. He doesn’t really need to tilt my head to face him, I do it for him. If the stars are bright tonight, his eyes are even brighter. “I’m not avoiding you,” he tells me after a long while. “And you’re not, by the way,” he is so close to me now, that our breaths mingle and turn to fog between us, “Out of my system, I mean.” My eyes widened at the answer to my question that seemed like eons ago. He releases my hair and tweaks my nose almost affectionately. He takes the roll from my fingers, but I catch a few words where our fingers touch, morbidly reminding me of Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam.” – THIS IS SO GOOD EVERYTHING THE HAIR THE HONEST LINE THE FACE TILT THE STARS THE ANSWER THE CREATION OF ADAM!!!

Shut up omg she said you cant smoke bible pages and i had to reread the last two lines bc “Oh my god!” and him responding “Yeah, i guess so” is INSANE WHAT

BIG G???  - 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 hell. Thats were were headed.

Stop the nose kiss???? Freckle under the eye?? Putting the joint in her mouth the moment she breathes in lmao hes a whole clown and im the circus w how much i want him in me 🙈

““Something in Proverbs. Keep your mouth free of perversity; keep corrupt talk… far… from your… lips.”/ “God, you’re sick,” I tell him. “Jesus, Cardan,” I manage; I feel unnerved and his lack of reaction makes me feel like I’m going crazy.” - peach i am actually going into cardiac arrest oh my god why are they so unserious 

“You’re a fucking menace,” I mutter. ” – she says wstill pulling him into her room girl u just as delulu ❤️❤️❤️

Also… hush,hush ref? : “id love to hear you scream.”/ “I dont scream” like so patch and nora coded fr 

Lol him being nosy in her room but her reaction being nervous while when she was in his car doing the same thing he was like so blase about it lmao the duality… beautiful. Also he totally just wanted to smell like her. Bet hes never washing that shirt now, weed scent and all 😌

Lol not jude comparing her fear of the exorcist to her anxiety around cardan and realizing her fear of the movie is UNPLEASANT as opposed to how she feels w her big step bro 🥺🤪

I love him playing with her hair yOUR HONOR HES IN LOVE also “I can have you screaming in other ways” SIR THIS IS A WENDYS (ur parents house!!!??)

Omg not her saying fuck off but the getting on top of him, judes so real for this

God not him being a lagged and high and groggy and just letting her have her way with him!!!

““What if,” I continue, softly, “I want to make you scream?”” BITCH ME!! IM SCREAMING ME ITS ME!!

““Look at you,” I say in a hushed tone as our fingers interlace. ” - SKIP THE APPLICATION INTERVIEW SWEET LIKE MARABU

““Look at my big brother,” I bite down on his earlobe, tugging the metal loop he’d left in tonight. “So needy…and …all… for… me.”” JUDE !!! MAAM!!! ….do continue😃

Lol not him being fixated on her not telling him that she missed him before lmao boy!!

You know dry humping shouldnt even be called dry humping if we out here getting WET

Oh my god peaccchhhh pls foreplay shouldnt be this hot im sweating (I am under three blankets)

NOOOO THAT WAS THE END???

Ok I lied THIS might be the longest ask 😭

lol no not a long hiatus, I do have a substantial amount written, I just am not in the mood to edit/rewrite these days 😔

lol other earring is Dior 🤭

Actually her rummaging through his car was so I could highlight the lighter and rolling paper so ur not toooo bamboozled when he’s smoking a joint on the roof 😭

U know my friend said the same thing about them living so close, I didn’t realize how heartbreaking that sentiment actually is 😭

Lmao not finger poppin 😭😭😭 but yes this is in fact a taboo fic 🤭

Anyways no that’s not the same cross 💀 yess those are the same stuffies lol, your hot girl math was totally right, viv is my fave too lol

Sending Jude to the Olympics is a completely different book now 😭

I wouldn’t call fand a foreshadow but more like a set up, so it doesn’t feel left field when she’s actually introduced

The creation of Adam was insane of me next to the Bible blunts 😭😭 I am going to burn in hell

Lmao not the circus bye

Yes!! Hush hush ref lmao you got all my references ❤️❤️❤️❤️

lol Jude comparing her actual fear w her preconceived fear is when it hit her sense ass fr

🎶give me a call if you ever get lonelyyyy ill be like one of your girls or your homies🎵 (i love troye and he fed the blue neighbourhood girlies with that)

Anyway yes thats it for now 😭 thank you for your commentary it really made my whole week lol

#asks #your reactions were everything to me

[elendsessor]

hi welcome back to me talking about megaten demon designs and if you follow me or have went through the megaten tags you probably noticed i’ve been on a dsrk kick, specifically with the lone marebito since i unintentionally gave it a reread. i’m sorry if you’ve seen nothing but that shit from me i swear i’m almost done rambling about it.

first time i read it was before i finished dsrk2 so i held off on talking about different designs of reappearing demons since i thought maybe they’d appear in 2 but. nah they didn’t.

a lot of these designs are really cool, redesigns or otherwise.

BRW THIS POST IS LONG I’M SORRY-

i’m gonna toss out a spoiler warning since it’s not likely many people in the megaten community has given the lone marebito a read. there’s an english fan translation here if you’re interested!

quick shoutout to @/eirikrjs since they and @/yamayuandadu made a couple of posts a few years back about the origins of jatou ouhanshin aka this badass motherfucker.

i love giant reptiles in any media and goddamn i love this and yes i want ouhanshin to be included in a future megaten game :D

of course there’s likely some demons i missed/forgot to include so don’t expect every instance.

first up are some redesigns since they mostly appear at the beginning.

now with gremlins! they’re definitely a lot different than any of the previous variations, being a lot more goblin-like + a fat fuck one for good measure. it does more closely represent the pre-soul hackers gremlin design (which is a lot better in my opinion). as silly goofy as they are they do much better fit the general idea of what a gremlin is. this was likely a choice based on the overall tone of the manga, which gets really fucking depressing and a bit more body horror-y/gory than most megaten material, but the smaller gremlins should’ve been the silly goofy with the big boi being the gross monstrosity. idk gremlins are popular enough that having such a vast deviation used in this way doesn’t work.

i think the manticore is actually a complete upgrade from the og designs and is a prime example of the more horror part of tlm improving the original.

idk man i really do not like the og manticore designs. given how the beast itself’s name means man-eater and the fact that it has the body of a lion, the thinner body doesn’t really give that same fear (and the sickly green kinda worsens it). nor does the head??? yeah it’s supposed to be ugly but it looks like a last minute decision and not part of the beast itself. the second one is a bit better but neither of them look that good or scary. (i think they’re more heavily based around a certain latin bestiary depiction but that one sucks too sorry 13th century latin guy.)

even if the manga manticore’s body wasn’t buffer the face is fucking amazing. first it has an actual mane like a couple other depictions do, but turning the normally “ugly” face into a skull is sick as hell. oh and the teeth help it a lot. fantastic demon design all around.

this one is less of a total redesign since it’s character specific. there have been minor alterations made to demons throughout the devil summoner franchise especially with dsrk in order to fit that imperial japan vibe, such as high pixie basically being a pixie wearing a kimono. shiragiku’s design is more based in the soul hackers nekomata design though without being a calico. i wanted to give her a bit of attention on the design part for at least one thing because it’s pretty interesting to me and that’s having a normal cat form. yes because of shiragiku’s backstory it makes sense that she regained her pre-furryfication body. however, when it comes to looking at it from a folklore angle it’s pretty interesting.

all nekomata start off as bakeneko, aka monster cats. they can shape-shift to look either more house cat-like, human-like, and everything in-between. they can also mimic voices. nekomata are basically just stronger bakeneko, symbolized by the split tail (which is how they get their name). in megaten, we don’t really see that often, some of which is understandable. what i find so interesting is that it’s kinda defied in some ways? as in, normal bakeneko are glossed over, unless morgana counts since he pretty much is one. the most commonly used nekomata design in smt is the one from nocturne who only has one tail despite being in a non normal cat state. i’m guessing for the sake of simplicity both bakeneko and nekomata are one in the same due to the heavy similarities. idk it’s pretty confusing but basically this was all an excuse to include cat girls and shiragiku is the closest we’re getting to a truly accurate nekomata.

what if i told you though that behemoth is technically original.

gonna be quick about this since basically aside from devil children behemoth has no original design. it’s mostly just recolors of other demons, mainly elephant/hippo/rhino-like ones. in fairness, behemoth is a warped shouten but it’s so different it’s basically its own demon that goes bye bye before getting any real action. still looks cool af but i’m sorry behemoth.

here’s a weird one. despite maintaining the horn, yato no kami is completely different from the game counterpart and is another much better design (wasted on a character that was pretty underutilized despite the potential). in actual japanese folklore, yato no kami are snake deities (and also some hot anime dude from a game i never heard of thanks google). pointing that out because, while cool on its own, yeah looks too much like a parasite and not what it’s supposed to be.

now for a side note on a couple more demons exclusive to the manga

clarion is interesting to me for one reason and one reason only: it heavily resembles the great will aka the universal will aka existence itself.

this one’s a bit of a stretch but i still find it interesting.

this guy was only in last bible, specifically the game gear version, but is referenced and named dropped a ton. every yhvh avatar is something this thing popped into existence. an equivalent exists in the 4 duology aka the axiom but since both games were a bit of a soft reboot of the traditional mainline style plus is pretty much the exact same thing this counts the axiom. it’s important to note that, as it’s technically a concept and not a physical being, it relies on avatars to get shit done. aside from that, there’s not much info on the great will but it’s considered either equal to or potentially the creator of yhvh.

most of the big time avatars that relate to the great will and yhvh, including yhvh himself, are either a big human face or a circle. while it’s stated in the manga that clarion is a goddamn alien the fact that it keeps so many of the design motifs of the great will, yhvh, and all their ocs, i honestly think it just might be another avatar. i mean it also knows shit like god’s wrath so that has to count for something. it’s just so fucking interesting i love it.

on a final, simpler note, touda is cool. i’m 99% sure it just morphs into ouhanshin but still i love snakes. there are so many serpents n noodly things in tlm it’s cool they’re attached to badass imagery even if they’ll likely never show up in any other official material ever again.

#I DIDNT THINK THIS POST WOULD BE AS LONG AS IT WAS #I’M SORRY #all cool and interesting demon shit tho #to me anyway #shantien rambles #devil summoner #megaten #i’ll shut up about the raidou manga now probably

[pundachen]

A carnival date with BNHA characters

Request: hi, i requested the sharing food hc and i loved it, it was sho cute! exactly what i meant hehe could i request what a carnival date w mirio, kiri, bakugo and izuku (separate) would be like?

A/N: I've never been to a carnival before so Imma just go off on what I've seen in movies- This would be so fun to do with bnha boys, if only it were possible :< Wonder if I should do this with other characters..?

Mirio Togata

I can’t really imagine Mirio going on many rides, only really goes on one if you want him to

He’s a big fan of the rides for couples though, more love for him

You drag him into the optical illusion building because he’s never been in one, he bumps into glass a few too many times for his liking and decides that he’s never going to enter one again

Runs off after a while to play with kids somewhere, comes back with his face painted and some snacks for you

Ends the day playing in an arcade with you

"One more game please baby :("

Eijiro Kirishima

Haunted mansion all the way, wants to protect you from the scary stuff and hold onto you

Will make up for scaring you with some food

Drags you with him the entire time to try out a bunch of rides, if you say no then he won’t go on one either though, he doesn’t wanna leave you alone

Will end the day with a peaceful ride in the ferris wheel where he holds you near him the entire time

"Sorry for scaring you in that haunted mansion, do you still love me?"

Katsuki Bakugo

Aggressive bumper cars, do I need to say more?

Some kid beats him in a shooting game and he plays the game multiple times until he wins, you run off while he’s playing and come back with some snacks for when he’s done

Keep him away from the arcade games, he will never leave

He’s gonna win you a giant teddybear, you can’t tell him not to, you don’t have a choice

Goes in a ferris wheel with you later because you begged him to go, while you’re looking at the area around you, he’s just staring at how your face lights up with amazement

"You better not replace me with that teddybear!"

Izuku Midoriya

Not the biggest fan of crazy rides so he just sits on the sidelines while you ride rollercoasters

He does try to go on a few rides with you though, regrets going into one of the rides because it went really fast

After begging him to go on the huge carousel he eventually gives in and goes on it with you, enjoys seeing you all happy like that

Rather than ending it with the ferris wheel he’s gonna end it with a walk around the place and something nice to drink

"I had fun with you today p-puppy..."

#BNHA #MHA #mirio togata #goddamn I forgot how many tags this is gonna be #eijiro kirishima #Katsuki bakugo #izuku midoriya #Mirio x you #kirishima x reader #katsuki x reader #izuku x you #While writing these tags I saw many tags related to shipping and got concerned

[hellotherepaul]

Huh apparently there's limited research but Adderall can apparently induce hypomania

Which would track with my experience today fjdjjsjsjsjsjsjsjsnsnsn

#ok ed tw for later in the tags #but like yeah lmao took my short release meds that 'last 4-6 hours' at like 11 am #it is now 11 pm #i am still buzzing with energy it very much FEELS like hypomania but like its cool its a fun one #but also my ed was already acting up and Adderall is an appetite suppressant #and cause just my goddamn luck #and ofc ibs was already fucking my tummy up #and shit i had to take my waist measurement today and talk a lot about it and buy pants #which ok when i guess i say all that its obvs why but yeah barely eaten today lmao #trying to get myself to have a third protein shake before bed and i did have a bagel but like ekjdjdjdjdjdjsjdjjsjsjsj yeah if u know u kno #oh yeah also forgot to say when im hypomanic or manic it tends to make my appetite even worse so like yeah wow ok i guess that all tracks #but god the things we deal with with adhd meds #is it worth it?? idk but i did get so so much I've been meaning to do done and had the activation energy to start (and even finish one!) #new projects #and my mental health is doing great cause of that cause ive basically been languishing in my apartment too depressed and dissociaty to do #anything and like God I've been wanting to do things and I've been needing to do things and i did things today a lot of things :-) #also to my credit: i havent had any alcohol tonight and im not gonna say how many nights it's been since i did that cause its not great and #i dont know #but i havent had any tonight and not counting the mania and Adderall lmao but i was sober most of the day and dealt with my brain #and yeah the bar is low but I'm proud of myself I've been in a bad slump #which like i guess if youve read all this youve probably read all the other shit so like....yeah #hi like max 5 people that will like this thanks for listening to these medication induced manic rambles :-) #i will delete in the morning i know no one really cares about this shit but ive been tormenting yall with my personal posts for years #and yall have stuck around so thanks again :-)

[from-a-reckless-writer]

RE: the tags about being tempted to post a half finished fic and guess the ending, well you are a reckless writer for a reason

this is long overdue, so here have a fic.

It has come to the point that nothing fazes her anymore.

A kidnapping? Been there, done that. It means calling Sam Arias to intimidate the board of members into temporary submission.

An explosion at the office? Just a typical Tuesday. It means relocating to the 23rd floor and sharing the desk with two other interns for 2 months tops.

An assassination attempt? It means bracing herself for at least 3 deliveries of donuts and coffee for the two following weeks that Kara Danvers would be protectively hovering over L-Corp, until her boss snaps and shoos her away back to CatCo.

She’s seen it all, endured it all and she sure as hell is prepared for it all. She’s got three different ironclad statements ready to publish for whatever PR disaster will most likely turn up that week. She’s got contacts from the FBI, DEO, CatCo, Daily Planet, Gotham Gazette-- hell she even has Lillian’s personal cell (just in case the Luthor matriarch ever tries anything y’know? ) and yes, even the number of that 'Mexican place at 5th and Spring, you know the one Kara likes, Jess?'

She’s got two pairs of heels, a raincoat and four sets of outfits neatly folded in a duffel bag, at the back of the office, reserved for any emergency that requires a change of clothes.

The point is, she is an independent Asian-American woman who has worked her ass off for the better part of the decade and has long learned to take no shit from anybody.

Not even stupid superpowered Kryptonians.

See, it takes a lot to be her. It takes unlimited patience to put up with a woman like Lena Luthor, not because she’s a terrible person. Oh no, no, the complete opposite, actually. She is so overwhelmingly kind to a fault, and she doesn’t want nor let anybody see it. It’s infuriating to see sometimes. Okay, fine, she sides with the Krytonian on that one matter. But oh, ho, ho, not today. Today, she’s mad.

She’s livid, actually and it’s all Supergirl’s fault. (and Lena Luthor's too.)

Jess has had her fair share of ‘I-Should-Not-Have-Been-Here’ moments, like that one time she forgot to knock and stumbled unto Lex mid-yell with Lena whose eyes were shimmering but was still keeping a rigid posture.

Or that one time when she thought her boss had long left the office, only to be greeted with quiet sobs and an empty bottle of scotch rolling on the floor. Or that time she happened upon Lena, skirt and sleeves on fire with fumes rising from a green solution.

Apparently, her staff from the lab refused to let her in after three days of their CEO holding herself in isolation with the experiment. Lena had gotten the great idea of smuggling the chemicals to her office instead. Luthors are nothing but determined. Jess still remembers the adrenaline rush of holding a fire extinguisher—as if she were the chosen 5th grader for a school fire drill—and shoving her boss out of the way.

Like she said, nothing fazes her anymore she’s seen it all, except maybe, this one. Yep, definitely this one. This one just made a hot ball of fury unfurl at her very core. This one might just take the cake.

Jess was just going about her day, returned from a hearty lunch and feeling reinvigorated from that dose of sunlight and fresh air. It was a quiet day today, she noticed, which should’ve been a foretelling.

Nothing really is ever quiet. Well, when it comes to L-Corp, at least.

She’s been sitting on her desk for about a good fifteen minutes and finished with screening a few papers from their new contractors, when it occurs to her that the latest blueprints from R&D are still on her desk instead of already being reviewed by her boss.

She grabs the drawing tube and quickly makes for her boss’s private office. They’ve spent enough time with each other that Jess could just come and go as she pleases, instead of having to knock each time. Saves both of their time, that way.

Although, usually, she buzzes through the intercom first to double check, but it was 1:20 P.M and she knows Lena doesn’t have anything scheduled after lunch. So, she pushes the door, confidently strolls in and promptly stops in her tracks.

Jess stops breathing for a moment, blinks once, twice, stares at the scene before her.

Lena Luthor sat atop her work desk; blouse open, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, neck currently being ravaged by Supergirl with legs wrapped around the waist.

She probably should’ve just turned and left while they haven’t seen her yet. That would’ve been the smart decision, right? Yes. Yes, it was so very clearly The Right Decision.

Of course, she doubts she could look Lena in the eye for the next few weeks after that, but at least she wouldn’t know that Jess walked in on them during an er- make-out session? Office tryst? Oh God, she shudders internally. It sounds even worse.

Incident? Yep. Yeah. She’s sticking with incident. Indecent incident sounds more apt really.

She should’ve left. Would have left, if her eyes didn’t just land on the desk—well, more like Miss Luthor’s as- backside—and felt the stirrings of rage make itself known. Because there, underneath Lena’s ass (Backside!! Jess, that’s your boss!) is the squished—probably crumpled—pages of a contract.

A contract they’ve spent 5 months securing!!

Jess decides to do what everyone else would have done in a situation such as this; she clears her throat. Loudly.

Classic move.

Supergirl’s head immediately shoots up and Lena’s eyes snap open.

“Jess!” Supergirl squeaks and she sees the exact moment the realization hits Lena. Her eyes widening at her girlfriend’s exclamation, whips her head to the side, spots Jess, hands scrambling to a panic to close all the buttons of her blouse.

She hears Lena hiss, “Fuck, shit. Oh my God. Shit. How did she even- You have superhearing!!!” as she pushes Supergirl—who lets herself be pushed, stunned by the intrusion, face redder than a tomato.

Lena gets off the desk, fixes herself all the while to futile results. Her hair is tugged down from her usual ponytail, her neck and chest is marked, her lips swollen.

Supergirl's hands twitch at the sides and Jess sees her gulp as blue eyes frantically dart to Lena and her, and then Lena, and then back to her.

Lena finally turns around after those few awkward beats.

"Jess," she begins, clearly trying hard to put on her business bitch persona, but come on, there's a hickey under her jaw for fuck's sake.

"It's not what you-"

Jess doesn’t let her finish, she stomps her way across the office and forcefully puts the drawing tube on the desk. It makes a hollow thump.

“Jess I-”

“Supergirl, do you know how long it takes to finalize a business proposal, pitch it to the board, persuade the board and finally have a contract drawn?”

Supergirl gulps again. Lena’s eyes are wild next to her, she doesn’t like not knowing what the next best move is, Jess knows this all too well.

“Uhhh- no?”

Jesus Christ, you’d think after years of shadowing Cat Grant, she'd had at least learned a thing or two. Then again, if somebody is full on glaring at her after getting caught red-handed, Jess doubts she could answer coherently too.

“That’s right,” Jess says, “You don’t.”

“Jess,” Lena repeats pointedly. She knows that tone. It’s a warning.

“Ms. Luthor.”

A period not a question mark. It’s a challenge.

"I've spent all my evenings working late on that, do you know how many dates I've had to cancel? Just so I can secure a meeting with Qatar and simultaneously sync it with Beijing's time? My boyfriend hasn't seen me in two weeks!” Jess bursts out.

“Two weeks, Supergirl!” She gets close enough to jab a finger to the Girl of Steel’s chest. A feat she will gladly tell all her coworkers later when she’s calmed down enough.

“Not to mention, the 10 other people who worked their ass off trying to make sure that Miss Luthor's presentation is airtight, bulletproof and waterproof!” Lena has the decency to look a little guilty at this point, nothing big though, just a slight tug at her lips, but it was enough for Jess.

“IT TOOK ME 3 FUCKING MINUTES TO PRINT THAT GODDAMN CONTRACT WHICH MIGHT NOT SOUND LONG—” Jess raises a finger in emphasis, “BUT BELIEVE ME WORKING IN L-CORP? A 3 MINUTE DIFFERENCE CAN MEAN AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT OR PSYCHOPATH PRESS!”

Supegirl of all people should already know this! For fuck’s sake!

Jess’s chest is heaving. She takes a deep breath, kneads her knuckles to her eyelids, “So, please if you're gonna have sex in the office, please, pleaseeeee clear the desk first. And at least, lock the door.”

She stares them both down, till Lena gives her a solemn nod; cheeks and ears still red. Supergirl squeaks out an, “U-understood, Ma’am.”

“Good. Glad we’ve come to an agreement.” Jess gives them one final nod before finally fulfilling what she came in here to do, “Miss Luthor,” She turns to Lena, “here are the R&D blueprints. Good day, to you Supergirl. I'll be going now. "

When she finally goes home, tells her boyfriend, and wonders aloud if she’ll still have a job the next morning, he tells her she’s such a badass.

And well, Jess can’t disagree with that.

*****

"Did I just- Did I just get yelled at by your secretary?? D-did she just chew us out?"

"She did, and she deserves a raise."

#i call this fic how many commas can i use in one sentence? #i think this is by far the most crack thing ive written #poor jess #in this house we worship and praise jess the secretary and her thrity second cameo in that ONE scene #if u see a typo no u didnt #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts

[lord-explosion-baku]

Trident Tale part 2

Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader

Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)

Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Original image by @maewoahoah

Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.

By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.

It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.

The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.

It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.

It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.

Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.

“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.

“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.

“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.

“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.

“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”

“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”

“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”

“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.

“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s gonna see you…”

“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”

“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”

“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.

What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”

“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”

Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.

He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.

Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.

“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.

In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.

“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.

“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”

God.

“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”

He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”

After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.

“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”

Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.

“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”

“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.

“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”

Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.

“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”

Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.

“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  

What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.

The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.

Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”

Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.

Tricky, magic fish-man.

“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”

The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.

They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.

Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.

“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”

“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”

In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.

“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.

“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”

“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”

“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”

You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”

“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”

“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”

“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.

“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”

“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.

“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”

It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”

“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”

“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”

“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”

“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”

Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.

I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.

Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.

“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.

At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”

“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.

“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”

“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.

Hitoshi frowns.

“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”

“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.

“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.

“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”

“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”

“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”

“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.

“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”

Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”

“He’s a fish, Denki.”

“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”

“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.

“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”

Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”

“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”

Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.

“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.

“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.

“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.

Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.

“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.

“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”

And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.

“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”

“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”

“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”

“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”

“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”

Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”

The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”

Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”

“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.

“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”

“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”

Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”

“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”

This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”

“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”

“Which would be?”

Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.

“Romantic rendezvous.”

“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”

Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”

You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”

Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.

“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”

Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.

“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”

“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”

Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”

To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.

There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.

“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”

At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.

“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”

“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”

Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.

“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?” You ask.

“That the two of you are going to help me.”

The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”

“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.

Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”

Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?

Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”

“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”

“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.

On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.

“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”

Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”

“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”

“So good at questions,” you murmur.

“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.

“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”

“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”

“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”

“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.

“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”

Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.

“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”

Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.

However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.

“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”

The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.

“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”

“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.

“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”

“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”

At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.

“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”

Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.

“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”

“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”

“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”

“I have a boat.”

“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”

“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.

“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.

“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.

“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”

There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.

“So if we help you find these gems—“

“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.

“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”

“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”

“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.

“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”

Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.

“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”

“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”

Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.

“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”

Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.

#bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #reader insert #mha x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha imagines #mermaid!shinsou x reader #bnha mermaids #trident tale #tt

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 13. Flames

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(we using the same gif cause I couldn’t get the bridge gif to work sorry no sorry)

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Soon the camp was left near barren. The saviours had made up more than half the work force and as far as it seemed you were the only one left. You spotted Daryl sitting in front of a white tent eating an apple. You bee-lined past Eugene and Rick to him, sitting on the chair just opposite from him.

“Hey” Daryl greeted you warmly. You just smiled at him then went back to staring in the middle ground, leaned down in the chair and your arms crossed. You sat there in peeved silence for a moment, just not wanting to be alone right now. “Heard the yelling match you had-”

“Don’t” You said, closing your eyes and shaking your head in annoyance. “I feel stupid enough as is.”

A hand landed on your knee and Daryl’s gruff voice said “You ain’t stupid, Darlin’”

That made you smile whether you liked it or not. You looked at him through the side of your eye, leaning forward and looking at you with so much love. “Darlin’, huh?” you commented on the new pet name. You uncrossed your arms and took his hand in yours, ignoring how sticky it felt from the apple he was eating. “I could get used to that.”

“Anything I can do for you? You name it, I’ll make it happen.” Daryl said.

“Just sit with me a while.” You droned, clearly exhausted. “Before you gotta up and go again.”

“‘Course” he reassured you, kissing your knuckles. You detached your hands so he could finish his apple and you were happy to sit with him. The noise of the camp was gone and there wasn’t anything you could do, but with Daryl you always felt at ease. Though something seemed off about him. A kind of anger was boiling under your skin. Maybe he was pissed the Saviours up and left too.

Jerry arrived back on horse and was talking to Rick. You didn’t bother yourself with it but Daryl’s interest seemed to be piqued. Especially when he walked by talking rapidly into a walkie talkie. You tuned into the conversation out of curiosity.

“I need you to get an urgent message to Alexandria… If Maggie Rhee shows up, delay her at the gate and alert Michonne right away. Do not... repeat… do not let her in without an escort. Over”

“What’s happening?” You asked Daryl. He didn’t look at you as he stood up. You stood up after him and walked behind

“And, Maggie, if you're listening… let's talk.” Rick tucked the walkie back into his belt.

“Hey. What’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked as he approached.

“Maggie's headed to Alexandria.” Rick explained.

“Is that bad?” You asked.

“She's about do something she might regret.” Rick explained further, grabbing the horse.

“Hop on. I'll take you.” Daryl said.

“You sure? We got enough fuel?” Rick asked, already moving to Daryl’s bike

“Yeah. We’ll get there quicker.” Daryl said, climbing onto the bike. “I’ll be back soon, Darlin’” he called to you.

“Better be in one piece” you shot back.

“I’ll make sure of it, Y/N!” Rick replied. You watched as they took off down the road, leaving you in a crumbling camp.

You wandered around the camp, finding the Alexandrians had left too and what was left of hill top and oceanside were scattered with talk of leaving. You eventually came upon Carol. She was packing up with a group you recognised as the kingdom's people. “You leaving too?” You called, grabbing her attention. You settled onto the heel of your feet and placed your hands into the back pockets of your hips, watching as she asked a nearby man to finish packing up the crate.

“This place is bust, Y/N” She said, walking towards you. “I know you tried earlier but-”

“Yeah” you hissed through your teeth. “I get it.” She looked away, seemingly embarrassed. “You're going back to the kingdom I see.”

“There’s room on the wagon if you want” Carol offered, seemingly remorseful.

“No.” You replied “I told Sanctuary I’d be back.”

Carol shook her head in disbelief then chuckled as she threw her head to the sky then back to you. “I don’t get it. You hated it there!” She expressed while you nodded along in agreement. “But you wanna go back?”

‘I was trying to cover my ass but now everyone who knows me is dead’ you thought. Though that wouldn’t fly. Your childhood made you an adept liar though. ‘No granny those aren’t vomit stains on the carpet I just spilled my porridge. Yes, I eat porridge now.’

“I was scared. And lonely. But in time it got less so.” you explained, not breaking eye-contact. “I don’t know the Saviours you knew, but the ones I know appreciate my work. And they’ve got nothing. I had nothing and Daryl came to me, gave me a shot. I wanna extend that to them.”

“We won’t help,” Carol said. “Too many people were hurt.”

“Well if you’re gonna turn away starving children and hard working people,” You retorted. “We’ll go elsewhere.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” Carol chuckled.

“Right back at ya,” you turned to leave and pack your things when Carol called you. She came up to you and offered you a revolver and a belt holster.

“You’ll need it,” she said. You took the belt and weapon.

“Thanks, Carol.” You said. She pulled you into a hug that you returned with gusto then parted so you could pack your things.

You didn’t have much, mainly your knife and the clothing on your back but Enid had forgotten some valuable supplies in the infirmary. Between that, the change of clothes you had and a couple apples you had hidden away in your tent for later, your bag was bare.

You were about to set out and start dismantling one of the tents to bring back when you heard bullets fly. You immediately got low to the floor and pulled out your gun, checking if it was loaded.

The rounds sounded too rapid to be one sided. You walked out the back of the tent and noticed the shoot out. It was a small group of saviours going after Carol’s group. You took a deep breath and ran out of the tent and behind a nearby tree, then peered out the side and took two quick shots at the group. You managed to hit one and the larger group was now caught off guard. In the time it took you to unload the barrel you downed another two and the fire fight had ended with Carol’s group victorious and a number of the Saviours running back into the woods. They disappeared as quickly as they appeared. You ran over to Carol’s group.

“Is everyone alright?” You asked.

“They got Fred!” one of the hilltoppers yelled. You looked at the armoured body and knew in an instant he was gone from the axe wound alone.

“You gotta come with us,” Carol said to you. “The shots would’ve attracted the herd.”

“Alexandria’s the safest bet with the way that herd is moving” Jerry put in.

“Alexandria it is then,” you agreed, helping load up now. The tents were abandoned. Someone from Oceanside radioed that the camp wasn’t safe but no one checked for a response. Everything was loaded up and the carriages were moved.

Off in Alexandria, in someone else’s world. Maggie entered the dark basement cell. Her face was illuminated by what little light creeped between the shutters. Negan chuckled.

“Aw, she just gave up the keys, huh?” He jested “It's a shame. She got the blade, but you...You got the fire. My money was on you.”

Maggie looked into his cell. He sat on his bed, shrouded in darkness. “So you remember me.” She spoke into the darkness”

“'Course I do.” Negan Replied “It's why I thought you were gonna win.”

“Good.” Maggie swallowed hard, emboldening her resolve. This was it, she was going to give this monster what he deserved. “Get on your knees.”

“You know, I remember you screamin' in that clearing.” Negan muled aloud, standing up and walking closer to the bars yet not completely out of the darkness “I remember how much I broke you breakin' open your husband's head like I did.”

“Glenn.” Maggie snapped “His name was Glenn.”

“So now what? You finally come for…” Negan paused for intentional dramatic effect “revenge?”

“Justice.”

“Damn.” Negan gasped “Thought you'd do this a hell of a lot sooner. It take you this long to work up your nerve?

“I was always gonna settle this,” Maggie retorted, her voice growing in volume “what you did to my husband. Get on your knees.”

“What I did to him?” Negan pressed “You mean how I cracked open his skull and popped out his goddamn eyeball? How I bashed his big, beautiful brains into the ground over and over while you and his little friends watched? Is that what you mean?

“Ah, I used to say that I didn't enjoy killin'.” Negan sighed with satisfaction “That was a lie. Your old man… Christ, I forgot his name again. But he was different. Killin' him the way I did, ooh, now, that was fun.”

Maggie pressed the key into the lock, the teeth rolling over the internal mechanisms echoing in the dark cell. Negan took to his knees, as had been requested of him.

“Get to it. Have your justice. Kill me. It was worth it.”

“Lemme see you in the light.” Maggie demanded.

“Come on.” Negan beckoned her on “Kill me.” She turned the key, the lock clicking loudly. “You not have it in you?” Negan teased “Don't you punk out like Rick.”

“Come into the light.” Maggie demanded again.

“Kill me. This is what you came here for!” Negan demanded, his tone becoming desperate “You kill me!”

“Move into the light.” Maggie spook through her teeth, peeved.

“Kill me.” Negan’s head went down and he began to cry. Maggie finally lost her patience, pulling the door open and tearing Negan from his cell and into what little light there was in the room.

“Please. Please.” Negan began to beg. He was disheveled and cowering on the floor in a useless pile. “Please kill me.

“Why?” Maggie asked

“You have to. Just do it.”

“You tell me why!” Maggie began to yell at him “Tell me! Why should I?!”

“So I can be with my family!” Negan cried out “So I can be with Lucille! And with my Y/N!” Negan sobbed silently.

“I should be dead.” He began to ramble “I have to be dead. And it's supposed to be you. It has to be you, because I can't do it. I can't do it. I've tried. I can't. I can't be like this. Please, please don't make me stay like this. It's... Settle it.” He was so distraught every other word he was gasping for air. “Settle me. Kill me. Please.”

“Get back in your cell.” Maggie ordered

“No.” Negan protested from the floor where he lay “No. No. No.” He sobbed “Why?”

“I came to kill Negan,” Maggie said “and you're already worse than dead. That settles it.” Negan hid his face as he sobbed “Go.” she ordered.

He knew better than to argue with her, especially how she pulled him out of the cell without breaking a sweat. “It wasn't supposed to be like this.” He protested weakly, “It wasn't supposed to be like this.”

With that Maggie locked the gate and left the cell, content that her husband’s murderer was suffering.

“What the hell was that?” One of the kingdom’s people said when they were far enough away, clearly talking to you. In their eyes you were the last saviour. They strode up behind you.

“I don’t know” You muttered, pulling one of the horses along the road

You were walking as fast as you can, basically dragging the horses and carriages and this man wanted to fight. “What do you mean you don’t know!”

“I don’t know!” You yelled back, continuing to move. “People do stupid shit when they’re scared!”

“They killed Fred!”

“We killed them!” You finally let go of the horse and turned around to face the man. “And you’ve been killing them for a long time!”

“You don’t know what they-”

“The war?” You cut him off “I know that there is a factory full of people who are starving, working their ass off to get you ethanol, and have no protection.” You were too caught in the moment to notice the wagon train had stopped moving and too angry to hear Jerry and Carol calling to you “Not fighters! Workers! People who didn’t get a chance to defend themselve in your precious fucking war and are paying the price for it!”

Horses trotted up to meet you halfway in the road. You recognised Maggie, Eugene, Tara, and Michone and a few others. Daryl rode up from the back of the group on his bike.

“What happened?” Maggie rode up to the group and asked Carol.

“Saviours jumped us. Ended up shooting each other.” Carol explained. “The gun fire could’ve attracted the herd so we left.”

“Where’s Rick?” Daryl asked.

“He’s not with you?” You shot back.

“What if he headed back to the camp?” Beatrice, a girl from Oceanside, pitched. You could feel the panic set in the group. Daryl disembarked from his bike.

“I know a shortcut. Come on!” He lead the way into the forest. You and a large group instantly took off on foot, following him closely. Within minutes you were back at the bridge to a horrifying sight.

Countless walkers were crossing the bridge. The herd was so thick no sunlight was travelling through and standing at the end of the bridge, with all those walkers heading right towards him, was Rick. Daryl already had his bow out and was picking off the walkers that got too close to his friend.

“What is he doing?!” Maggie yelled.

“He's hurt!” Michone cried. You noticed his clothes were soaked in blood

“That herd that went right through Hilltop.” Daryl gasped “He's trying to bring down the bridge.”

In the next instant Michone had her sword out and was running towards the herd. You called after her and ran after her.

“We turn them around. Fight 'em back.” Maggie followed close behind you

“Fire your guns.” Carol ordered “Try to divert them.

Michone called to Rick as you all ran to the herd, but a moment later the herd caught in flames. Michone stumbled back as the orange heat climbed above your heads. She stood there a moment, shocked into place. You looked through the flames and felt yourself thrown back into your army days.

Rubble and sand were all around you. The air was heavy with debris. It was you, five other servicemen and countless civilians trapped into a crumbling building while bullets flew outside. Children were crying and parents could do nothing to calm them. There was a moment of calm. A moment to get the group through a gap in the rock fall near the back of the building. You got them through while the others lay down ground fire, keeping the enemy at bay. You pulled yourself through the hole after the last of the civilians made it out and went about helping your fellow soldier. They were nearly clear when an explosion went off in the building and you were both sent backwards. You could feel the heat from the explosion on your face, but your ally could feel their life seeping out of their lost leg. He screamed out in complete agony.

The same way Michone screamed out. When you felt yourself come back you noticed Maggie and Carol were holding her back and you had fallen to the ground.

“Y/N!” Tara yelled to you, pulling the rest of you into the present “We have to go!” You nodded rapidly and pulled yourself to your feet. You all retreated back a ways so the herd wouldn’t come to you right away.

“I need to find him,” Michone sobbed. “I need to help him.”

The smoke was rising above them in thick clouds. The radio was going crazy with people who were seeing the smoke.

“What was that?”

“Was that the bridge?”

One of the people with you got on the radio. “Rick!” he called breathlessly “He blew it to stop the herd!”

Everyone around you was in shock and crying horribly. These people had followed Rick, and now they seemed lost. You were in no way a leader but-

“We can look downstream.” You spoke up. Pale and contorted faces looked back at you. “If he fell in the water he’ll be downstream… If he got hit by the blow back he’ll be on the road bu-”

“You heard her.” A man with long hair in a bun and a beard. His face was red but he was already tired of crying “Downstream.”

“I gotta-” Michon spoke, shaking as she got back to her feet. The man beckoned her. In the next moment a small group had run past to look downstream.

“I gotta go to Sanctuary” You announced to those left. Carol nodded, tears streaming down her face. “They gotta know what happened here.”

“Go,” she croaked out, “and bring them back to kingdom.” Beatrice immediately got angry at the notion but before she could speak Carol silenced her. “Without that bridge they’ll starve. Rick didn’t fight for that.” Carol looked back at you. “Go.”

~Tag List~

@felicisimor​ @bodeckersbitch​ @lauren-novak​ @aestthete

#AJ's Negan's Daughter AU #daughter reader #daughter x negan #daughter reader x negan #daryl dixon #negan x daughter reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl imagines #daryl dixion imagine #twd rick #twd fanfiction #twd tv #twd #The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead Rick #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction

[canonicallysoulmates]

Just saw your post about the post phase 1 Marvel movies and the meme you used for CA:CW. So I'm here to ask and get you cancelled. What did you think about the movie? Are you Team Stark or Team Rogers?

........................................................I knew this day would come......okay, let's get me cancelled!

I hate this movie, I hate this movie with every fiber of my being. Watching it was torture, it as the longest 20hrs of my life. It was like living out one of those very confusing math problems I started this movie at 10am somehow 6pm rolls around and there are still 2hrs left! Coño cómo?! I watched this with my mom, and when we checked how much time was left we were left looking at each other like 'que carajo what twilight zone bullshit is this?' It's one of those Marvel movies that I am so glad I did not waste my money on, I wish I could get a refund for my time but I made my choice and I shall now have to deal with it.

I hate this movie for many reasons but I'm not gonna make y'all wait any longer for what you're really here for because I know what y'all really want to know is whether I am Team Iron Man or Team Captain America. When it comes to the political aspects ie. the Accords, I am Team Neither.

Now, I cannot get into a comprehensive debate about the Accords because the writers did a shitty ass job, in a 2 and a 1/2 hour movie that felt like a lifetime, at explaining what exactly the Accords are in the movie universe. Emphasis on the movie universe, because I have seen debates go on in this motherfucking fandom where some people will bring up aspects from the comics Registration Acts but we're not talking about the comics okay, we're talking about the movies! And they're two fucking different things! And the movie did a shitty ass job at explaining what the Accords are, and that's one of the reasons I hate this movie: that it's so badly written.

But back to the point, which is where I stand on the teams when it comes to the politics, I am Team Neither because ultimately they were both idiots on how they handled this, and I think they both have good points like yes the Avengers and other superheroes should 100% be held accountable if they fuck up, the fact that they are superheroes and the "good guys" doesn't mean that their actions shouldn't have consequences but at the same time Steve's mistrust of the government and concerns that the team and others could be weaponized are also valid so I think they both have good points when it comes down to it and the smart thing to do - and in my opinion what would have made a much better film- would have been to come together and make like a counterproposal, decide on amendments, try to ensure they can get a representative so they have a voice on the table.

So, there you go when it comes to the Accords I am Team Neither however when it comes to the characters and their actions I am 1,000% Team Tony. At the end of the day he wanted to do what was best for both people and for his team, he wanted to keep the team together because he knew they were stronger together, and he was thinking long term not short term.

And then there's Steve who is an asshole in this film and completely lacks self awareness, cause there's a scene in the film after they've found out about the Accords where Steve goes "that's because he already made up his mind" about Tony and I'm just like bitch so did you, pot meet kettle, Rogers you knew from the get go that you weren't going to sign those papers don't go acting different and then like- here's the thing Steve has some very good points when it comes to the Accords but one of his points is that the UN is filled with people with agendas and agendas change which true but also motherfucker you yourself have an agenda! The whole Sokovia mess is an example that they cannot be trusted to hold themselves or each other accountable because inevitably the time will come where they'll want to protect their team mate like we see in this movie Steve do with Bucky, or how he wanted to protect Wanda because he looks at her as if she were a child not an adult. Steve, you lot are not exempt from having your own agendas and biases.

And through pretty much the entire movie, he has this whole my way or the highway attitude like this man does not know the meaning of compromise in this film, and he has such tunnel vision for Bucky- and listen! listen, listeeeeeen, I get it, I don't judge Steve for making his bestie a priority; I understand that Bucky is incredibly important to Steve, that he's the one person who's gonna look at him as just Steve and not as the Steve Rogers, I get that he carries a guilt over what happened to his friend, I understand he misses him, I understand all of that and respect the ride or die game but goddamn he was so focused on being a good friend to Bucky that he forgot about everyone and everything else and was a shit friend to Tony.

Actually a lot of people in this film were shit to Tony for no goddamn reason but Steve was such a shitty friend not telling Tony about his parents, that was a shitty ass thing to do and listen! I know what some of y'all are thinking you're thinking some version of 'he wanted to protect Tony' shut the fuck up. No, no, that's an excuse and it's a cheap one, you know damn well that was a shitty thing for Steve to do and y'all know damn well you would have reacted the same way Tony did if someone who you thought was your goddamn friend knew about something horrible that happened to people that were important to you and they never told you; that kind of shit hurts, and finding out someone you thought of as a friend doesn't care about you as much as you care about them hurts.

And y'all know goddamn well how emotions work, you know emotions aren't gonna wait for the rational brain to kick in don't some of y'all go playing dumb as if you didn't know this shit. Same way deep down all of y'all know Tony was holding his punches, that man gave Thanos a fight and got some blood if he had wanted to kill Bucky he would have. Don't none of y'all motherfuckers try to play games and act like you don't know this info.

Steve was a shit friend to Tony. Period. The least he could have done is have some empathy or compassion towards Tony when he saw his parent's being killed- and I swear to motherfucking god to the person who is getting close to their keyboard thinking of saying he showed compassion by not killing him back the fuck away from your motherfucking keyboard what did I tell you about playing stupid, this is properly tagged, stay in your fucking lane. Some of y'all be acting as if it were still 2016 and we're gonna be talking about that too, anon wanted my opinion on this film so now I'm going off.

Back to what I was saying, in some ways Steve wasn't a perfect friend to Bucky either cause he kept looking at Bucky and thinking of the guy he used to know but Bucky's not that person anymore, he's been through a lot of shit and it feels at times like Steve didn't fully realize that.

I hate Steve in this movie, I wanna punch him in the throat; he's an ass, he thinks he's above the rules, he's unaware of his own flaws, he might be a good friend to Bucky but that's it. I don't blame Steve though I blame the writers cause they're the ones who wrote him this way; moving on from Steve, I wanna talk about Wanda real quick, I don't hate the character of Wanda but I do hate the way she was written in this film, I hate that the writers expect us as an audience to look at this adult and think of her as a defenseless child who should be exempt from consequences, I hate that instead of actually doing something with her and exploring some interesting dynamics they just give her an AI boyfriend and a pinterest quote which sounds nice but falls flat especially considering she says said quote as she uses her powers (which is what people are afraid of) to send her love interest down several floors of a building. They could have done so many cool and interesting things with her, shame they didn't.

Another thing I hate about this film is what it did to the fandom, and how it was promoted because it was very much promoted as a pick your fighter, pick a side type of movie and after this movie came out I feel like the divide between Tony fans and Steve fans grew toxically and the effects are still seen to this day like some people really do be acting as if it were still 2016 and attacking others for what side they went with or for who their fav between the two is, and I'll be very honest a lot of the hate I have seen has been directed towards Tony and Tony fans. I hate that, I hate when TPTB deliberately pits fans against each other cause it just encourages a toxic environment.

Let me think was there anything that I liked about this film- wait, oh my god talking about all these other things I hate almost made me forget the thing I hate the most about this movie: it's pointless. Its existence is unnecessary; the biggest aspect of this film isn't the politics of the Accords, it's Steve and Bucky and how far Steve is willing to go for Bucky and have him by his side...but Endgame exists. The end of Endgame turns this film pointless, because the only true point of this movie is the relationship between Steve and Bucky that's the biggest takeaway from the whole thing, but then you have the end of Endgame where Steve just leaves Bucky.

I hated this film before I saw Endgame but after.....I never plan to watch Civil War again but if I did I'm pretty sure I'd self combust cause I'd be so angry I'd scream every time Steve appeared cause that son of a bitch ends up leaving; tears the whole team apart only to end up leaving his friend behind in the end.

I hate this film, I hate everything about it, well that's not true I love the Tony and Peter stuff, but aside from a couple of things I hate this movie, someone give me time stone I'm eliminating it from the timeline.

So, there you go those are my thoughts on CA: CW.

In conclusion, I am Team Neither on the Accords, Team Tony on everything else, Steve I still like you but this movie demoted you in my eyes and makes me wanna punch you in the throat.

#i clearly had a lot to say #anon do you see the pandora's box you've opened #anti captain america civil war #anti civil war #anti cacw #steve rogers critical #pro tony stark #mcu negativity #mcu fandom critical #wanda maximoff critical #anti steve rogers #i'm not anti steve but i did say this post would be properly tagged #non spn #anon #ask #long post