#I needed to write down some thoughts to feel better

[meticulac]

I have been thinking about constructing a language around the idea of a sort of human-computer pidgin, which isn't quite the same as binary cant due to not being designed for a dystopian setting and for attempting to accommodate the human side of things a little better, but close enough that I have thoughts on this. First, if I were to guess at what such a system would use, my first thought would be a dual-tone multi-frequency keying like in phone landlines, though if single-tone encodings are easier for humans to distinguish by ear I can get why that would be recommended instead. Another thing is that it might be fun to look at the Sarus and Solresol languages, which not only lean further into the musical angle offered by a two-octave range but also, by having seven written characters, can fit into three bits with room for a space, or maybe an escape character in case you want to have the option of throwing control codes in there or something. Now, three bits is less than four, and including parity in the fourth bit doesn't really make much sense in this case because you'd just be dropping the use of certain tones altogether. I guess the easiest way to handle that would be to encode pairs of character in base64 to use ASCII like you would for English? And if you're using ASCII, that could allow for using data-serialization formats encoded in it (most of the ones marked as human-readable ) to structure statements something like {YOUR-MISSION:{DESTROY:{COMMUNICATIONS-TOWER,GENERATOR,AERIAL-LIFT}SECURE:{LANDING-SITE}}} depending on choice of serialization format, which is presumably up to either whatever seems appropriate for conveying the type of nerd a given admech is or just whatever's easier for you to deal with personally. Binary formats would presumably also be used, but I'm not sure how useful they'd be in a roleplaying context. Some type-length value protocols might also be useful to look at.

Also, incidentally: If you want a more machine-looking writing system to go with it, post code style barcodes like POSTNET and RM4SCC use tall and short lines for one and zero instead of wide and narrow lines, which could make them easier to jot down by pen if you want to do that. I have been working on character sets which take barcodes like that and connect the lines in a character with squiggly bits so that the grouping of them is a lot more readable, but I don't know if that kind of thing would fit with the tone of adeptus mechanicus or if they'd prefer to either use the unmodified barcodes or just directly write 1 and 0s, base64 characters, Morse code dots and dashes, or whatever. But since I don't mind if anyone else uses, adapts, or alters these scripting systems, I may as well share it here while I'm at it. Note that I haven't really thought about certain details, like what kind of endianness is most appropriate and stuff like that, so if that's something you care about, feel free to remap in addition to any other changes that you feel might be needed:

I still didn't remake that direct adaptation of RM4SCC that I forgot to save earlier, so I'll have to remember to post that in a further reply later.

I'm also thinking about pronunciation systems that fit the human-computer intermediate language I'm going for, but I don't think anything I have in mind is particularly admec flavored, so I'll save that for another time.

I’m curious how binary cant work for admech since day 1. At first, I thought it’s just high speed alternation in frequencies of sounds to denote 0 and 1, just like how computer cable does with voltage. So I wrote a python script to convert natural language to binary code then to sound based on the idea (so that I can curse in binary in ttrpg). However, since the human auditory cortex can only distinguish sound about 20ms apart, the current commonly used binary coding method (Unicode) that requires 8 bits to encode for one letter (16 bits for one character in Mandarin) would make binary cant less efficient than natural language through the bare ear. As a result, binary cant users not only need vocal implants but also auditory implants to receive info (or perhaps cortex implants to decode). Based on these assumptions, binary cant would be able to happen in sound frequencies not perceivable by the original human cochlea so techpriests conversation can be extremely quiet. And more efficiently, just through data cables.

Or it could be the other way around, scientists might develop more efficient binary language without basing it on the symbol system of natural languages (I’m not that familiar with linguistics so I don’t know if this is possible or not).

However, the sound techpriests made in the game mechanicus doesn’t sound like my assumption. There are definitely more than 2 pitches used in the conversations (which makes it less binary...) and they seem to be faster than natural language. I still couldn’t figure out what’s happening here. Do the twisting pitches actually encode more than one bit? Is binary cant actually an analog signal encoding a digital signal? Or is the sound effect just mean to sound better for the game?

The binary curse program (turn the sound on!):

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello 👋 if requests are open do you think we can get another of The Summoned Demon? I've never seen a take on Danny being misunderstood and speaking a different language after a summoning and I'm really excited to see where you wanna take this. If not don't worry about it I have a vivid imagination hahaha

Take care of yourself man, this is also your mandatory water and food break ❤️

Danny runs for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, attempting to find the exit of the caves. This would be easier if he could go ghost, but for some reason, his powers were disrupted when he tried to change into Phantom back in the cell.

He didn't know how, but the weird lights had messed with his core. It was almost like an invisible hook had attached itself to his navel. The thing yanked his power into the floor and walls, causing them to explode.

Thankfully, when the strange writing had vanished, a bit of his strength had returned, allowing him to tear through the stone bars. He couldn't go ghost, but at least some of his powers were accessible.

He had super strength, night vision (which would have been really helpful the day he was kidnapped!), and a few energy beams. It could be a better skill set, but if needs must. If only his Phantom stamina could transfer over.

Right now, he was using Fenton Stamina. There was a reason he was failing P.E. It showed how he was gasping for air, kneeling by one of the stone walls.

"Must...huff...find...exit....huff huff....escape!" Danny pants, attempting to crawl forward. "Must....check with a doctor about possible asthma...leg cramp! leg cramp!"

It wasn't going well.

Danny grips the meat of his calf, curling into a tight ball and silently screaming at it. The pain is annoyingly rippling across his whole body, causing his muscles to tense to the point he can only sit there and wait for it to go away.

All the while, he was mentally swearing up a storm.

After a few minutes, the muscles relax enough for him to feel some relief. Slowly unclenching his hands- afraid that if he got too quickly, the pain would return- Danny stretches out his leg. The ache is a distant echo as he slumps against the stone.

"I'm going to die in here," He whimpers. "I'm going to die from a kidnapping cult that thought it was a great idea to wait after my math test to take me."

While Danny wallows in misery, two glowing figures flout out of a nearby wall. A woman who looks to be wearing an outfit straight from the pilgrim's age and a man who may have once been a gentleman in the early ninety-thousands.

Danny's eyes widen at the blood staining the woman's head and dress. It's evident from the crack that runs along the right side of her skull. The man, meanwhile, looks more normal if it is not for the way one of his legs is twisted sickeningly.

"This one is young, " says the woman, shaking her head in pity. "It looks like he hurt his leg."

"I know how that feels," the man sighs, flouting until he is mere inches from Danny's face. "It doesn't seem he's been down here for long. Maybe there is hope someone will find him before the starvation hits."

"What do you mean starvation!?" Danny yelps. The two glowing people flinch.

The man gapes at Danny. "You can see us!?"

"Yeah? You're ghosts, right? I'm part ghost on my mother's side." Danny jokes, only seeing the woman cross herself before doing a slight hop and pointing at him with clear disgust.

"Witch!" She stretches, dragging out the syllables. He a bit impressed by how she puts her whole chest into that yell. Hell, he's even a little envious with how low she got her voice too.

"Not now, Mary," The man hisses at her. He reaches to touch Danny, but the boy avoids the contact, afraid of being overshadowed. That earns him a smile that seems oddly approving. "It's nice to meet you, lad. My name is Harold McConnell; I was an explorer attempting to map out Gotham's caves when I was separated from my crew. I broke my leg in the dark and starved to death. This is Mary, no last name. She and her family were moving from different American colonies when they passed over Gotham, and their carriage fell when the ground gave way. She died upon impact."

Dang, okay. Harold is oddly forward. Danny knows most ghosts are well aware of the specter's unwritten rules: Never bring up another death or share yours until a deep bond has been made.

A bit flustered Danny placed a hand on his chest, ensuring his fingers were spread so that they know he was a friendly ghost. He was not after their haunt or territory. "I'm Danny Fenton. Yesterday I was kidnapped by a cult from my classroom. They had me in warehouse then in a stone cell in a near by cave I escaped them but ended up gettng lost."

Marry lowered her hand, eyes wide. "A cult brought you down here?"

"Yeah, and I'm afraid they will find me," Danny mutters, looking over his shoulder. He can't see or hear anyone, but that does little to reassure him.

Harold's face tightens. "There are many monsters in this city."

"We can show you the way out," Mary offers, flying closer. Danny does his best not to stare at her gruesome features. It would be vulgar. "Does being half ghost- or a witch- make it possible for us to carry you?"

Danny blinks. "I think so, but I can walk-"

"Nonsense," Harold grunts, reaching out and lifting Danny from the floor. He throws him over his shoulder like he was picking up a flour sack. Danny squeaks. "Goodness, I forgot how it felt to hold something. I miss this."

Danny starts to protest, but Harold merely bounces him with a laugh, twisting around where Mary is flouting. "Onward!"

Mary smiles, floating alongside them. "We can go through the west caves to where my skeleton is. There is an opening that should lead to the center of Gotham's suburbs."

"Good idea, Mary," Harold compliments, flying right behind her at a much faster speed than Danny's running. "Listen, lad, we can't leave the blasted caves, but we can stare through openings. The suburbs are the safest place for you to pop out of."

Considering that his only other option is a mad group of cultists, a kiddy pool of blood, or a full ghost status from being lost in the caves, Danny doesn't mind.

He is saddened that they are anchor ghosts, though he suspected as much from the way neither had noticed his Infinite Realms mannerism. It means they are doomed to only wander the areas of their death, forever trapped in their sudden and abrupt demise.

"Thank you for helping me," He says, staring down at his hands. He can see the ground past him back, aware of the way Harold's muscular arms wrap around him without any warmth but not lacking in kindness. "I wish I could take you with me."

"That's a sweet thought, little one witch, but it's alright." Mary says, "We've come to terms with our fate. We even found love."

Danny peaks at her, noticing how adoring she is regarding the ghost, and she can't help but smile. "You two are together?"

"Aye. Mary comforted me in my final hours." Harold responds in a voice as fond and adoring as Mary's: "She was my reward for how I perished."

How romantic.

"I hope I find love like yours," Danny tells them just as they round a few corners and come to a deep drop. The remains of a carriage and five skeletons rest at the very bottom, making him heartache for the fact she had likely been alone with their bodies for centuries.

Mentally, he makes a pack to come back for the bodies and give them a proper burial—once he has his powers, of course.

"I pray that you do," Mary says, keeping her gaze away from the pit. She points upwards to a whole in the cave's ceiling, a few streaks of light peaking through. "Up there, my love."

Harold obediently flies upwards, twisting Danny so the boy's back is to his chest and his hands are supporting him on his bum. Danny's face turns red. "Sorry, lad, but something is covering the exit. I can not touch it, but you should be able to. Kick it until it breaks. It should only be a few layers of grass."

Danny coughs. "I'll try my best."

He kicks upwards, pressing himself into Harold so he has more leverage for throwing his legs upwards. They make contact with a heavy thump, his super strength giving him an edge.

"Donkey kicks, lad!" Harold shouts, "Both legs, nice and even."

He pulls his legs back again, putting more strength into his second kick. It shakes the ground above him as bits of dirt fall through, and the light streaks grow. Danny's legs go through once, twice, and on the third kick.

Danny cheers as the ground above him collapses, falling into the pit below. It's a reasonable-sized hole, just big enough that he will be able to squeeze through, but thankfully, the rest of the ceiling seems sturdy enough that he won't accidentally cause a sinkhole.

"Good job!" Mary cheers, clapping her hands. Harold lets out a deep and joyish laugh, helping Danny straight up by holding his waist and lifting him up through the hole.

He struggles to keep Danny upright when Mary swoops in, lacing her fingers and supporting Danny's feet. Her added assistance allows the ghosts to push him upwards, away from the darkness and into the light.

Danny rises from the ground with a laugh so cheerful he doesn't think he's ever been this happy to see sunlight, even when it blinds him.

It takes a couple moments to adjust his eyesight, stepping out of the ghosts' hold onto solid ground, but he can smell the sweet grass below his feet. He hears the tender psss of a meat on a girl. The alluring aroma of hotdogs-

Wait a minute.

Danny's eyes finally come into focus, and he stares into the faces of a surprise family just about to sit down for a BBQ. His eyes find the face of a very familiar teenage boy looking increasingly horrified by the second.

"Hey, you're the cult pants guy!" Danny shouts at him, twisting around to look down at Harold and Mary. "One of the cult sacrifices is here! I think he escaped, too!"

"Solitary!" Harold yells back, "You have more strength in numbers!"

"I don't know how he can help me since last time I couldn't understand his language- oh! Er, hello?" Danny looks down to where the teenager is once again, clinging to his feet, babbling in his fast-paced language. He presses his face against Danny's leg, rubbing himself there, and the Halfa is quick to try to push him away. "Dude! Dude! Personal space!"

"My word!" Mary calls up, scandalized. "Danny, will you force this young one into being your bride?"

"What!? No! Wait—" Danny looks back at the scene where Mary is once again making that same disgusted face while Harold is offering him a thumbs up and an eyebrow wiggle. "You can understand him!?"

"Yes, can you not?" Harold responds.

"Not even a single word. Would you mind translating for me?"

"I can let you know what he is saying, but I'm afraid the living won't be able to hear us." Marry cautions, sounding strangely apologetic and relieved in the same tone. "He's attempting to bargain for his family's lives in exchange for being your bride."

"Why would he assume I even want their lives or him!?" Danny yelps, finally untangling himself from the teenager and putting in some much-needed details. He makes a x with his arms, hissing when the other guy makes a move to follow him.

"Hard to say. He's not making a lot of sense- it's just pleas for a bargain.," Harold shouts, speaking louder now that Danny has moved away from the hole's edge. "It is best to put some distance between you and him."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about us; we've been here long enough. Escape while you can and be safe!" Mary yells over the cries of the rest of the family, who seem to have finally snapped out of their daze.

Danny looked at the two adults, the one pre-teen and a crying five-year-old, and decided he did not want to stick around for more screaming in a language he could not understand. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Harold, Mary!"

"You're welcome!"

"It was a pleasure lad!"

Quick as a whip, Danny twists on his heel, racing for the fence and leaping over it. He's suddenly grateful for all the times he would sneak into Tucker's house as he clears over the wood in one smooth tug up and over, hitting the ground running.

He ignores the cries of the other humans behind him as he sprints down the surprisingly lovely suburban street.

___________________________________________________________

Jack Roux's hands shake as the demon disappears from view. He thought Batman had a handle on the cult and was free. But obviously, that wasn't the case.

When the ground first started to thump, he thought their garden had a mole or something, only to have his blood turn to ice when the ground gave way. Rising from the ground was the very demon that he had seen only two days ago.

His mother quickly ran to his side, wrapping Jack in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. His dad stood in front of him, likely wanting to be a shield between Jack and the demon. His little siblings crowed around crying in fright.

It had come back for him, even though he had assumed it was kind and likely was going to go after the others.

If I had been alone, Jack thinks, thankfully his father's quick thinking and fast-paced prayers had scared the thing away in time, I would have been taken again.

It's a bone-chilling thought.

[nightxcreature]

Do You Wanna Touch Me?

18+ ONLY

Summary: Part Two to Hotblooded, Reader can't help herself. She needs Dean anyway she can get him.

Warnings: Smut, Masturbation, Spice, Dirty Talk

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

A/N: wow. I did not expect that last one to get so much love and attention! Thank you all for being so kind! This is only my second ? time writing smut, so I hope it meets your expectations. I may keep this one going for at least one more part if you guys are interested. :) As always, comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

do not copy and share my work anywhere, you don't have permission.

I had been trying to fall asleep for hours now, and yet here I lay, half naked and clinging to a pillow for dear life. The ingredients in my drink from earlier were still running their course through my system and had left me panting at the mere thought of Dean. I’d rid myself of my T-shirt before Sam had even left my room, heat emanating from my body at a rapid pace. Sam had awkwardly averted his gaze before locking me in and reminding me that I should feel better after I rest. And yet even hours later, I feel like I’ll die if I don’t see Dean soon, speak to him, touch him…

                I groan as I shift to snag my phone from the nightstand, my hips rolling deliciously against the pillow below me. Feral thoughts of the hunter a few doors down rack my brain and I quickly pull up his contact before pressing the call button. His ringtone echoes down the hall from where I assume he is in the library before he answers.

                “Hey, Darlin’,” His voice alone causes my heart to race, a gasp leaving my lips, “Are you okay?”

                I shuffle to straddle the pillow below me as he speaks, the worry for me in his voice sending me into a frenzy, “No. I need you.” I practically cry into the speaker, “Need you so bad.”

                He sighs deeply and I can hear papers shuffling in the background, “You should be asleep, Sweetheart.”

                “Can’t sleep.” I mumble, rolling my hips against the pillow as he speaks, “Can only think about you. I don’t think I’ll think of anything else ever again.”

                “I’m trying to find something to help make it easier for you, I’m sorry.” He whispers, papers shuffling again, “I promise, it’s got to wear off eventually.”

                I let out a frustrated sound, my bottom lip jutting out as I whine, “I’m going to die in here! I’m going to die from needing you so bad and you wont even come in here to help me.”

                “I can’t come help you, Baby. It’s not you that’s asking for this.” He whispers and I can hear the frustration in his voice. One part of me is yelling for me to shut up, to hang up the phone and go to bed, try to somehow go to sleep and forget this ever happened…but the other part of me is ravenous, feral for the man on the other end of the line, and she is not going to lose this battle without a fight.

                “It’s your job to help people, Dean.” I cry out, a low blow I know, but the desperation coursing through my veins won’t let up, “Are you really going to leave me here like this?”

                “Don’t do that.” He growls out, “I told you before that we could talk about this when you’re not drunk off some god-level fuck juice. I want to talk about this. I do want to help you, but I won’t go in that room.”

                His take-no-shit tone goes straight to my core, which I know is the exact opposite of what he’s looking for, but I can’t stop imagining the firm look on his face as he scolds me. My hips roll quicker, a ravenous feeling overtaking my thoughts, “Please keep talking.” I whisper as my eyes close. I hear his breathing hitch, but he doesn’t speak for a moment, and I bite my lip nervously. Did I make him upset? I don’t think I can live with myself if he’s upset with me, “I’m sorry, I didn’t-.”

                “Don’t apologize.” He cuts me off quickly, “What are you doing?”

                Embarrassment should flood my system, but the idea of being caught getting off to his voice just spurs me on. I lift off the pillow to roll my shorts down my legs and then position myself over it again, “What do you think I’m doing?” I whisper seductively into the speaker. Hoping, practically praying, that he knows and he’ll throw whatever righteousness he has left out the window to come help me reach my goal. Sweat pours down my forehead and a heaviness sits in my hips, I rut against the pillow again to try and alleviate the feeling, a small moan leaving my lips as I do.

                The rough sound of his chair sliding across the library floor and his heavy boots thudding as he walks stills me. I sit with bated breath listening to the sound through the phone, waiting to hear him outside my door, “Where are you going?”

                I hear him chuckle quietly before his voice finally graces my ear again, “Where do you think I’m going?” I hear his boots come to a stop, but no sound comes from the hallway in front of my room.

                I groan in frustration, rutting against the pillow isn’t bringing the amount of relief that my body needs and the thought of Dean not being here to help me brings a sinking feeling in my stomach, “Where are you?”

                A door clicks closed on his end before he speaks, “What are you wearing?” He whispers gruffly, sending a shock to my core. I stay quiet for a moment before he whispers a bit softer, “You told me to keep talking. I won’t come in that room with you, but I am going to help you. Now, what are you wearing?”

                Though he can’t see me, I nod quickly and glance down to my torso. Thankful for the black lace panty set cladding my body so I don’t have to lie…I don’t think I could lie to him right now, “My underwear.” I whisper, holding my breath while I wait for him to speak again, “It’s black and lacy and I think you’d really like it.”

                He groans quietly and I can hear him lay down on what I assume is his own bed, “I’d like to see that.”

                “Come here and you can.” My breathing is heavy, anticipation building throughout me as I beg him, “Please.”

                “Please? You gonna beg me, Sweetheart?” He whispers lowly, the teasing tone spurs me on and I roll my hips against the pillow again, moaning louder as I do. I hear him suck in a breath before he continues, “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Touch me. Please, touch me.” I cry out, “I need you all over me.”

                He chuckles darkly, “I can’t right now, can I? But, you can.”

 At his words my hips stutter, I glance down at the pillow as I slide back toward my headboard, “You want me to…”

“Touch yourself, Baby. Where do you want my hands?” His voice is low as he instructs me and I dust the hand not holding my phone across my chest as I listen to his breathing, “Where do you want me to touch you?”

 “Everywhere. My chest, my legs, my….” I gasp as my fingertips rub over my clothed nipples; eyes still closed, I imagine his fingers being the ones ghosting across my frame.

I can practically hear the smile on his face when he speaks again, his voice quiet and heavy, “Yeah, I wanna touch you there, too. I can’t stop thinking about the things I want to do to you.”

“What else do you want to do to me?” I whisper, my hands making their way down my body at a slow pace. I play with the hem of my panties, imagining it’s his thick fingers there teasing me as he speaks slowly into my ear.

“I wanna spend all day between your legs, Baby. Wanna fuck you so good, you forget your name.” He whispers huskily, his breathing is heavier and I almost cum at the thought that he must be touching himself, too. I slide my hand into my panties and moan breathlessly at the feeling of relief that rushes my system. I circle my fingers around my opening, brushing my fingertips over the bud at the apex every so often

                “You drive me crazy,” I groan, throwing my head back against the headboard as I picture his face between my thighs and all the filthy noises he would be making while he eats me, “I need more. You make me so wet.”

                He curses into the speaker and I can hear his breathing quicken, “Take off your clothes.” The harshness in his voice causes my eyes to snap open and rushes me to strip bare faster than I ever have. I remain quiet as I lay alone, listening to his rapid breathing on the other end of the line, “You want me to fuck you, Baby?”

                I nod dumbly before realizing that he still can’t see me and quickly recover, “Yes.”

                “I want you on your hands and knees. Arch your back and touch yourself.” I nod again, rolling quickly to my hands and knees to do as he asks, “I can’t see you, Sweetheart. Are you listening to me?”

                “Yes, Sir.” I mumble as I rush to put the phone on speaker and roll my hips against my fingers, “I’m listening.”

                “Good girl.” He replies, chuckling as I moan at the name, “You like that?”

                “Yes. I love that.” I pant, rubbing faster against the bundle nerves between my thighs. My eyes roll back at the feeling and I try my best to focus on Dean’s voice as he continues to talk me through this.

                “All those little sounds your making are getting me so hard, Darlin’. I can’t stop thinking about how good you must feel, about how good I’d make you feel.” His husky whispers sends my imagination into overdrive as I raise up to sit on my heels. A single finger sinks into me and I moan out at the relief, “I’ve been thinking about being inside you all day. Whatever you want me to do to you, I’d do it. I want to be so deep inside you.”

                My eyes roll at his words, my breathing becoming heavier and I barely hear him when he asks, “You close, Sweetheart? Want me to make you cum?” The teasing lilt in his voice urging my hands to move quicker, my fingers rushing in and out of my opening like lightening. My toes curl and my vision goes blurry as the orgasm crashes into me suddenly. His name leaves my lips like a prayer as I come down and I hear him grunt, whispering my name quietly against the phone speaker.

                My breathing is heavy when I finally speak, “Thank you.”

                He chuckles awkwardly and I can imagine the way a blush covers his cheeks when he replies, “No need to thank me, Darlin’. I think I got just as much out of this as you did.”

                I laugh a little in response, feeling the hint of a blush rising in my own cheeks. The relief I feel is insurmountable and I can feel exhaustion taking over my body in exchange for the rabid horniness from earlier. “Do you think this is over? The potion, I mean.” I ask, waiting for the intense feeling of want to return.

                “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” He mumbles, “If you need me again though, just call.”

                “Will do.” I reply, “We do have a lot to talk about when I’m feeling better though…”

                He laughs nervously before trying to hide it as a cough before agreeing, “Yeah, uh, we do.”

                “I’ll see you after my nap, Dean.” I answer with a slight smile, “And then we can see just how quickly I forget my name.”

                He snorts and I can hear the smirk in his voice, “Set a timer, Sweetheart, it won’t take long.”

______________________________________________________________

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[cliosunshine]

𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐬

Jason Todd x dragon trainer!reader

Summary: after a portal mysteriously opened in your world, setting all of your dragons loose, you must find a way to take them all back home before it's too late and before you catch feelings for a certain cute guy in a red helmet

Warnings: none; some mild cussing, reader wears glasses and jay's a bit awkward lol

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: first fic ever yay! I was rewatching HTTYD and this idea came to me and who am I to deny the muses of writing

Jason knew this patrol was going to be a tough one.

The usual gloomy Gotham night had a sort of electric tension to it, putting everyone on edge.

As he finished securing the guns on his holsters, a deafening roar made him jump out of his skin.

It was nothing like he had ever heard before: the sound seemed like it came from above his building complex, akin to that of a thousand lions. A loud thump shook the whole building and Jason peeked his head out of the window, watching as people on the streets were running away from flames, screaming in terror.

He sighed warily, grabbing more magazines than usual and hurrying down the fire escape, too preoccupied to reach his bike and go to the Batcave to tell them what the fuck was going on than to look back out of the kitchen window, where a pair of giant eyes was watching him leave his apartment.

As he rounded the corner of his building in a hurry, so close to reaching his bike in the garage, he abruptly stopped as he was face to face - or better yet, face to snout - with the humongous muzzle of a giant lizard.

Or at least that's what he thought it was until the creature opened his mouth and emitted scorching flames too close for his comfort.

Jason backed up, his mind running a hundred miles an hour.

"Hey there, buddy..." He tried to coax the thing, whowas eyeing him with a blood-lust gaze.

Jason gulped, not too sure about his helmet's fire resistance anymore.

The thing was at least 10 feet tall and just as big, if not more. The scales on its body reflected the streetlamp light, giving it a more menacing look and steam seemed to come out of every pore on its body.

As both of them kept looking at each other, none of them relenting, Jason swiftly pulled out his gun, aiming it at the creature just as quickly.

Frightened by the sudden movement, the giant lizard thingy that he didn't want to call a dragon but that looked scarily similar to one, screeched, causing Jason to let go of his gun and clutch at his helmet in pain, the noise unbearable.

The dragon -yes, he was going to call it that- stumbled again and zeroed in his fire breath directly on his garage door, melting the metal panel.

"Shit!" Jason took several steps back to shield himself from the heat.

The dragon kept at it for several seconds, but all the damage was already done. As it took one final look around, it flew away, its huge wings taking out the flames.

Jason stood there in silence, the chaos of the outside world drowning out all of his thoughts as he stared at his bike, just the two silver handles barely visible in the otherwise pile of melted metal and burnt leather.

His chest heaved uncontrollably, just know realizing what he saw.

Suddenly, his comms activated, the shrill of Dick's screaming making him frown in irritation.

"Everybody, we've got dragons in Gotham!"

"No shit, Dickhead," Jason deadpanned, still looking at what remained of his bike.

"Oracle, I need a ride to the Batcave. Now."

You had spent the whole day tending to your dragon, Obsidian, as he had quickly gotten bored of his play buddies that he usually hung out by the lake with and had decided to bother you while you were studying.

"You big baby," you cooed at him, scratching his chin with your left your hand as you continued typing on your laptop, one paragraph of your final essay almost finished.

After completing your bachelor degree, you had decided to open a dragon sanctuary with your best friend from college after seeing so many of them getting mistreated and abused.

In the area where you lived, dragons were sadly thought as being more of a nuisance than loyal companions, thus leading everyone to think that they weren’t worthy of love and shelter.

The first dragon you had ever rescued was Obsidian, discovering him near your local park after a morning jog.

His little paws were sticking out of the half-burned box he was laying in and you couldn't resist his big amber eyes staring at you, so you took him home, much to your parents' chagrin.

Now here you were, nearly two years later and almost finishing your thesis with a huge, sassy dragon resting his head on your lap and demanding scritches behind his horns.

"You're so cute, Obi," you smiled down at him.

The dragon responded by gently nuzzling his head further into your lap, a low purring rumbling through your whole body.

"So cute, such a cutesy, lovely-" your cooing was cut short by a large swooshing sound and screeches coming from the lake.

You furrowed your brows as you felt the way Obsidian's body tensed up and started growling at the direction the noise came from.

You set your laptop aside as you made your way towards the lake, your dragon hot on your tail, his black scales reflecting the moonlight.

"What the hell's going on?", you muttered to yourself as you reached the premises.

Your eyes widened as you saw all the dragons of your sanctuary lose their minds, their wings flapping erratically as they screeched in fright.

Slowing approaching the flock, you noticed how they were huddled around a sparkle of some sort.

You took your utility belt and your trustworthy lasso from the nearby hut in case something came out to harm you.

The sparkle was emitting blue light and it kept keeping bigger and bigger, opening up like some sort of portal, and as it grew in size, the dragons freaked out more and more, to the point where you had trouble controlling Obsidian as well.

"Easy now, easy, Obi," you tried to reassure him. Your bond with him was extremely solid and transcended everything you had felt before, so you could calm him down enough for him to still listen to you, but it was too late for the rest of them.

Now too far gone, they became skittish and as the both of you approached them, they ran through the portal, one by one.

You ran after them, swiftly getting on Obi's back as you saw the portal getting smaller again.

"Shit, Obi, run faster!"

As you shouted at him, you felt his wings sprawling out and you took flight, passing through the portal.

You looked around as you took in your new surroundings, but you quickly had to clutch your nose at the pungent reek of smog and overall dirt that seemed to cling to the city below you.

You furrowed your brows in disdain as you saw skyscraper after skyscraper, not a single ounce of green in sight.

It all was so different from your home, but you quickly had to regain your composure as you saw your dragons already wreaking havoc through the city, squishing cars under their weight and setting things on fire.

"Obi, fly low," you instructed him.

He grunted in acknowledgement as he slowly lowered himself from his previous stance and you instructed him to land on a rooftop.

Getting off, you took a once over at Obsidian, checking for anything out of the ordinary that might have happened as he flew through the portal.

Reassured that he was all set, you released a breath you didn't know you were holding.

Everything here seemed so...strange.

It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck the city and you could feel the static that was left in its wake.

Where were you anyway?

You didn’t have much time to ponder on the question as you saw one of your wind dragons, Helix, making his way towards the outskirts of the city, gusts of wind quickly encircling him as he flew away. The white dragon couldn’t have been too far away from you, so you decided to follow him in attempt to lasso him back and tranquilise him. You hated carrying the tranquiliser gun, but you knew that it was better to be safe than sorry when dealing with these giant creatures.

As you hopped back onto Obsidian’s back, a light caught your eye.

It was being shone from a near-by building, and it represented a…bat?

You contemplated on the image a bit, but then got pulled back to reality by you dragon suddenly taking flight.

You yelped as you reached for his horns, trying to hold onto them, completely caught by surprise.

“Whoa, Obi, what has gotten into you?” you screamed at the dragon, who huffed in response, tailgating Helix.

You held tightly to your dragon’s back, the absence of a saddle not bothering you, as that’s how you first learned to ride.

You quickly approached Helix, the white dragon’s movements erratic and confusing you.

As you got closer to him, you let go of Obi’s horns and unravelled your lasso, positioning yourself upright, ready to catch one of his legs or, more hopefully, one of his wings.

The pursuit lasted several minutes and you couldn’t get a clear opening.

Just as you thought you had a car view of his hind legs, Obi suddenly stopped and remained still, his black wings still flapping to keep the both of you in the air.

You were about to question him but the words died in your throat as you saw that Helix was headed straight to what seemed like a manor’s rooftop.

Your eyes widened in shock, but you knew you couldn’t do much and just looked with your mouth agape as he made full contact with the building, the great force of the collision seemingly rattling the manor.

Meanwhile, Jason and the others were in the Batcave, contemplating what to do.

“You know,” chimed Damian, “if these dragons are anything like Goliath, we’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said as he looked up at his pet dragon, who was lazily lounging next to him.

Both Dick and Jason deadpanned at that.

Dick was the first to speak up, his arms moving all over the place, “Have you seen them?” he asked, incredulous at his little brother’s words, “they’re freaking huge, much bigger than Goliath and much, much scarier,”

“One of them set my bike on fire.” Was all that Jason said, his arms crossed in irritation, wanting to get rid of them already.

Stephanie wheezed, holding her stomach as she doubles over in laughter, “Is that why you asked Barbara for the Batmobile to be brought to you?”

All she received was a dirty look.

“If that’s of any consolation, another one of them almost stomped me to death,” added Tim, shivering at the memory of almost becoming a human patty mere minutes ago.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a contemplative sigh as he thought on what to do next.

Before he got a change to open his mouth, a loud crash with a following roaring sound shook the Batcave and the manor, making everyone brace themselves onto the console so they wouldn’t fall.

Jason locked eyes with Cass as he shouted a “what the fuck is going on?”, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

Bruce put on his cowl and gestured for them all to follow him, not waiting for them as they all put on their domino masks and helmets and got out of the cave as well.

“I hope to God that wasn’t a fucking dragon crashing right into the manor because if it is-”

Dick’s threat fell on deaf ears as they all reached the left wing of the building and saw a huge white dragon trying to wiggle out of his spot on the rooftop, as it had completely caved it in when it crashed.

All they could do was watch in horror as the creature seemed to flap its wings trying to escape, sending bricks and debris flying everywhere.

They all swiftly dodged the moving objects, when all of a sudden, a person’s screaming voice pierced through the chaos.

Jason looked to the left right of the manor and could hardly make out the silhouette of another dragon, this time pitch-black, who had…a person on its back??

He had to do a double take to confirm that what he saw wasn’t something his mind was conjuring up: on the dragon’s back there was a woman with a lasso in her hands, yelling something at the white dragon who continued to thrash on – or should he say in – the manor’s roof.

Her yelling stopped as she spotted them on the ground, all of Gotham’s vigilantes staring with a mixture of confused and awe-struck expressions on their faces as she told something to the black dragon she was on and quickly landed on the manor’s grounds, the dimensions of the creature really showing when its horns brushed against the top branches of one of the oak trees planted by the entrance.

“Fucking hell…” was all that Jason could mutter as he took in the creature’s large body, covered in black scales that reflected the garden lights in hues of metallic blue and purple. Its spiked tail swishing back and forth as it started down at the group with its beady amber eyes, almost as if it was challenging them to try and come closer to you, now standing in front of it.

You held a hand to his snout and whispered something to the lines of “calm down, bub, I’m just going to talk to them”, and the dragon visibly relaxed but still kept a guarded stance.

You hesitantly approached Jason and the others, who were all sizing you up to determine if you were a possible threat or not, but upon reading your relaxed and submissive body language their shoulders slightly sagged.

You walked until you were a few meters from them, then stopped and pointed back at the creature on the manor’s roof with your thumb.

“My dragon’s on your roof,” you said with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your head.

No shit, Jason thought, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth nonetheless.

He was admiring the way you purposely carried yourself with a calm and composed, albeit quite awkward, demeanour, having probably realized that dragons weren’t an everyday sighting here.

Your eyes sparkled behind your glasses as you latched your lasso back onto your utility belt. Jason noticed how you were wearing civilian clothes, quite similar to the ones you could find in most stores here in Gotham, so he wondered how on earth did you look like some sort of dragon-cowboy back there, up in the air, with the lasso hovering over your head as you swung it with expertise.

Bruce was the first one to talk, taking a few steps towards you. You widened your eyes in surprise, not having noticed the black-clad man until now. A shiver run down your spine as you saw the menacing cowl he was wearing.

“Who are you and why are you here.”

You released a shaky breath as you started talking, feeling everyone’s eyes on you.

“Listen, I don’t know where I am but I was just minding my own business when all of a sudden, a portal bigger than my house opened up in my backyard and that may have heavily triggered my dragons and they kinda went through it and are now here and I know they are wreaking havoc and are overall being so naughty I’m so sorry-” you said all in one breath, your apologetic nature getting the best of you as you pleaded them not to hurt them.

Dick held his arm up, shutting you up, “They’re yours?” He said, an incredulous look clearly shown on his face despite his domino mask covering his eyes.

You nodded as if that were the most normal thing ever, giving him a strange look.

“Uh, yeah?” You said, looking back at Obsidian, pointing at him, “Well, he’s technically mine, but the others are, too, since I’ve rescued them and they’re now staying at my sanctuary-” you got interrupted again, this time by Damian, who received a concerned gaze from you, shocked to see a kid.

“You have a sanctuary for dragons?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling very excited to have someone to talk about dragons to.

You smiled in excitement, your sudden change in body language not going unnoticed by Jason as he kept quiet, memorizing your every feature.

God she’s pretty.

Jason caught Cass’ gaze and felt himself blush as she gave him a knowing look, having clearly read his body language as well.

He was so grateful to have his helmet on at that moment.

Your laugh pulled him out of his thoughts and he caught you answer to one of Bruce’s questions.

“-yeah, so I don’t know where it exactly was, I only was some skyscrapers after I passed through it,” you quickly explained.

Bruce nodded in contemplation, lowering his gaze to the ground, before your next question made him snap his stern eyes back at you.

“So, what’s up with the costumes and the masks?” You asked, slightly confused at the funny looking people in front of you. Maybe they were having some sort of party?

“You don’t know who we are?” Asked Stephanie in slight surprise.

You chuckled, looking at her, “Should I?”

“Duh, we’re Gotham’s best – and only – vigilantes!”

“What’s a…vigilante?”

Uh?

“UH?”

Everybody’s incredulous gaze snapped to you and sensing your discomfort, Obsidian growled in warning at the group, still not getting too close to them per your command.

“Easy, Obi,” you reassured your dragon, smiling to comfort him. He huffed and turned his head to look at Helix, who had since stopped struggling and was looking at you curiously from his place on the manor’s roof.

“Uhm, so…” you continued, staring back at the group, “where I come from, we don’t have vigilantes…so, care to explain what you guys do, exactly?”

Jason huffed a laugh at Dick’s defeated expression, his pride noticeably shrinking by the second as you stared at him as he were a lunatic.

“We fight crime,” he said, turning your attention to him. He noticed your perplexed gaze, probably caused by the helmet he was wearing, “but we do it in suits and masks to conceal our identity since, you know, we have day jobs and carry normal lives during the day.”

You mouth opened in realization, bashful for having mistaken them for randos but also relieved to have struck conversation with people who might be able to help you.

“So, you’re like dragon protectors!” you said in awe, “they basically do the same stuff you guys say you do, but while riding dragons so they can cover more land.”

“Wait that’s actually so cool-”

“I know, they’re the coolest people where I come from!!”

“Wait, where do you come from?”

You furrowed your brows, thinking of an answer that will probably help them understand your world better.

“Earth.”

“What do you mean Earth, this is Earth”, said another one of the vigilantes, a quite lanky one with black bangs falling on his eyes.

You shrugged in response.

“We call it Earth, so I don’t know what to tell you, really”

“Well, then, we must figure out where the signal of the portal came from so we can understand if it was opened from your Earth or ours, and then we’ll help you bring the dragons back-” Bruce’s plan was interrupted by Helix’s roar, this time in desperation as he wanted to be freed by the bricks that were digging into his scaled body.

You signed, turning back to them with an apologetic smile, “I’ll get that.”

“Do you want us to help?”

You shook your head, thanking them, apologizing for the dragon-sized damage.

Bruce dismissed you with his hand, telling you not to worry about it.

As you walked back towards Obsidian, he turned back to the others, his tight-lipped expression evaluating the possible outcomes this situation could bring upon Gotham.

“So, what do we think?” said Tim, his gaze not leaving your figure as you hopped onto your dragon’s back.

“She’s nice, I like her.”

“We’re not talking about that. We need to know if we can trust her not to use the dragons to turn the city to literal ashes,” said Damian, receiving a groan in response by Stephanie.

“You’re awfully quiet, Todd,” Dick jabbed his little brother with his elbow, earning a stomp on his foot.

“What do you want me to say?” he responded, truly at a loss of words, “I mean, dragons? In Gotham?”

“What about Goliath, then?”

“Well, he isn’t from here as well, you know,”

“I should show her him! Maybe she could tell us why he’s been itching like crazy for the last few weeks-”

The banter stopped as Tim’s “Guys, look!” made everyone turn back around and watch with wide eyes at the scene before them.

You were now a good 15 feet from the ground, the wings of your dragon flapping steadily as you got up to your feet, positioning your body sideways to stabilize your core.

You took the lasso into your hands and started rotating it in a circular motion at the white dragon in front od you, who had begun to wriggle again out of fear of staying stuck there, his frightened gaze unable to clearly see you.

It was safe to say he’d never been the sharpest dragon amongst your flock.

Jason stared in awe as you swinged the rope one last time before flinging it at the dragon, catching him by one of his crooked horns. You secured your hold on it, tightening the rope quickly and then putting it in Obsidian’s mouth, who pulled once, twice, and at the third time successfully released his friend, setting him down onto the ground with a loud thump that shook the trees and bushes surrounding the premises of the manor.

You quickly got off of your dragon’s back and with some sort of weapon in hand, made your way towards the creature. Jason furrowed his brows in confusion at your “I’m so sorry buddy”, thinking the worst when you aimed the gun at his throat, but taking a breath in relief when he saw it was a dart gun.

The dart now jabbed in Helix’s throat had a quick effect on his, as he slumped over, his chin squishing a finely shaped topiary, turning the squirrel-shaped bush into a sad blob of leaves.

You smiled to yourself and petted Obsidian’s snout, praising him for a job well done.

Turning back to the group, you shouted happily, waving your arms to attract their attention but stopping mid air as you saw them all already staring at you.

“Can he stay here for a while?”

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag angel babies @guiltyasdave & @eupheme & @elflutter<3 18+ under the cut!

wip #1 • he's a good time, cowboy casanova!

a cowboy and the governor’s daughter walk into a barn...

cowboy!logan...that's literally it.

“Hang on, baby.” Logan’s hands fall to your hips, stopping you just as the tip of his cock brushes against your dripping pussy. “You wanna ride, you gotta look the part.” He drags his hands lower, calloused palms rough against the soft skin of your thighs. It’s enough to make you shiver, hips twitching down with the desperate need to be filled. “Got the boots,” he murmurs idly, thumbs sliding along the back of your thighs. “Just need the hat.” Logan reaches up to grab his hat by the crown, pulling it off his head to drop it on yours. You left out a soft breath, feeling the worn felt settle on the top of your head, still warm from his own. It’s too big, slipping down to shadow your eyes. Logan’s gaze darkens as he adjusts it, tipping the brim just enough to frame your face. “Much better,” he says, flicking the brim once before his hands fall back to your hips. “Alright cowgirl, give it to me good.”

wip #2 • baby if you love me you would call me your bunny (tell me that i’m just a baby honey)

logan wants to keep you pure for as long as possible, you have other ideas…

this is a half-alseep idea i had for old man!logan...not wanting to take your virginity...so you come up with a compromise!

You press him for it constantly, insisting you know what you want, that you've made up your mind. That you’re a big girl who does know what she’s dealing with despite him thinking otherwise. You're sure you want him to be your first, sure that you want him to take your virginity. Just the thought has a shudder running through him every time, something dangerous stirring deep in the pit of his stomach, white hot and all consuming. But he can’t shake that voice in the back of his mind—the one telling him it wouldn’t be fair, not to you, not to himself. He knows the very second you'd lie back on the sheets of his bed, legs spread as you bare yourself to him, that he'd never get enough. He’d lose himself, ruin that sweet, untouched innocence that clings to you like morning dew. A part of him—hell, maybe all of him—wants nothing more than to make you his, to leave marks on you in a way that makes sure you’d never look at another man the same way again. Logan's done a lot of things in his life he can't take back, a lot he probably should regret but doesn’t.  That won't be the case. Not this time. Not with you. He's not about to let himself make this into something you'll regret in the morning, or the next year, or twenty years from now when you’re sitting across from someone your own age while he rots away in an unmarked grave, wondering why the hell you wasted your time with some angry old man who couldn’t let you go. And yet, you're making it so damn hard to keep saying no.

kisses!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing @silverskyeline @ovaryacted @moonlight-prose @raeinyourdreams

[swrkn]

Hihi! I see you have blue lock in your fandoms you write for, do you have any ness headcannons? thank you <3

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Alexis ness x g/n reader

Genre ; sfw , fluff

Author note ; hii , that’s my first request for blue lock so i would like to thank you for that ! English is not my first language so im sorry if there are mistakes, my request are open !!

⇨ Thoughtful Supporter

Ness is the ultimate doting partner, almost to a fault. He's incredibly attentive, always noticing the little things that make you happy, like your favorite snacks or how you prefer your tea. He's fiercely loyal and seeks validation in the relationship, similar to how he idolizes Kaiser on the field. He wants to feel like he's your number one supporter.

One evening, you casually mention craving something sweet while you're both texting. You don't think much of it and move on with your night. The next day, there's a knock at your door, and when you open it, Ness stands there with a box of pastries from your favorite bakery. "You mentioned these yesterday," he says with a shy smile, his cheeks slightly flushed. "I couldn't let you go another day without them." You're touched by his thoughtfulness, and as you both sit down to enjoy the treats, you realize how much he pays attention to even your smallest remarks.

⇨ Your Biggest Cheerleader

He's deeply invested in your personal goals and will do everything he can to support you, much like how he supports Kaiser on the field. He'll be your biggest cheerleader, no matter what. In return, he appreciates when you show interest in his soccer career, even if it's just attending his games or asking about his training.

You're working late on a project, and Ness texts you: Don't forget to take a break, okay? You're doing amazing. A few minutes later, he shows up with a coffee in hand, ready to cheer you on.

After one of his big games, you greet him with a proud smile. "You were incredible out there," you say. His eyes light up, and he pulls you into a tight hug. "Hearing that from you makes it even better," he murmurs.

⇨ The Peace Maker

Ness hates conflict and will do his best to avoid arguments. If a disagreement arises, he'll try to resolve it calmly, often prioritizing your feelings over his own. He's quick to apologize, even if he's not in the wrong, but he appreciates it when you acknowledge his feelings too.

A minor disagreement arises when your schedules don't align, and you end up snapping at Ness out of frustration. He takes a deep breath, choosing not to escalate the situation. "I'm sorry if I upset you," he says calmly, his eyes soft with concern. "I just want us to work through this together." His willingness to approach the issue with understanding rather than anger helps you cool down, and together, you find a solution. By the end of the conversation, the tension has melted away, replaced by mutual understanding and affection.

⇨ Romantic Gestures

He's a romantic at heart. Expect surprise dates, handwritten letters, and spontaneous compliments. Ness loves making you feel cherished. His favorite thing is to cook for you, insisting that he knows all your favorite dishes. Even if it doesn't turn out perfect, he'll put his heart into every meal.

One weekend, you find a small envelope on your pillow. Inside is a handwritten note from Ness, detailing how much he appreciates you. "I just wanted to remind you how amazing you are," it reads. "Thank you for being in my life."

Ness surprises you by setting up a cozy picnic at the park, complete with a blanket, snacks, and your favorite playlist. "I thought we could use some fresh air and time together," he says, beaming.

⇨ Jealousy and Insecurity

Ness is prone to jealousy but tries to hide it. If he sees you getting close to someone else, he'll quietly fume but won't confront you directly. Instead, he'll subtly seek more of your attention to reassure himself. In moments of insecurity, he'll need you to affirm that you love him for who he is and not just for how much he supports you.

After one of Ness's matches, you find yourself talking with one of his teammates, complimenting his skills. From a distance, Ness watches, his smile faltering slightly as he sees how much you're enjoying the conversation. Later, when it's just the two of you, he hesitates before asking, "You seemed really close with him... Do you think they're funnier than me?" His voice is soft, almost uncertain. You immediately cup his face, looking into his eyes. "Ness, you're the one I love. No one else comes close," you assure him, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. His expression softens, and he pulls you into a tight hug, his insecurities melting away in your embrace.

⇨ The playful Competitor

He's surprisingly competitive when playing games with you, especially if it's something like board games or trivia. He loves teasing you when he wins but takes it gracefully if you beat him.

During a trivia night, Ness surprises you with how competitive he can get. "No way you knew that answer!" you laugh after he correctly names a random historical fact. He smirks and says, "What can I say? I'm full of surprises." When you finally beat him in the final round, he dramatically clutches his chest. "You've defeated me, but I'm proud of you," he says, making you both burst out laughing.

✵

[antifainternational]

I'm 14 and I really want to do more antifa advocacy than posting about it on social media, but I live in a decently conservative area (part of the us state of georgia where if you said trump sucks half would cheer half would shoot you). And my parents don't let me go anywhere really & I don't think they'd like me being antifa. They aren't fascists or anything, they are american left (pretty much centrists), I think they would say it's too dangerous and honestly, they're right, I could easily get myself killed. And they do still say that good cop exist. What are some down low/sneaky ways to participate?

Homie, first off apologies for taking so long to write you back. We're glad you're here. You're not alone. We get tons of messages from people just like you, in the same situation of seeing how messed up things are and wanting to do something about it, but not knowing where to start or how to be safe doing it. Some thoughts/suggestions: -there have to be other people around you that feel the same way you do. Think about the kinds of people that bigots and fascists target and victimize - women, disabled people, LGTBQ+ folk, migrants, racialized people, religious minorities, etc. Look to see how those groups are organized in your area and then reach out to those organizations to ask how you can volunteer or support them. There might not be a mob of antifa black-bloccing their way around your town, but there's probably a migrant support group doing work, or an abortion rights network, or queer-support organizations, or racialized people doing good political work. Find them, reach out to them, see what they need and how you can help. -Anti-fascism doesn't have to be some big, scary, dramatic action. Truth is 99% of anti-fascist work are small things that, when done repeatedly, have a bigger cumulative effect. We've published a list of 30 antifa actions that we believe just about anyone could pull off, maybe with the help of a couple of friends. Find something you think you could do, do the thing, assess how it went and what could've gone better, and do it again or move on to the next thing! Let us know how it goes! Don't like any of the 30 ideas we listed? Well then check out Pop Mob/Spencer Sunshine's 40 Ways To Fight Fascists (print version available here). Now you have 40 more ideas! Another thought: maybe you could start an antifa student club (whether or not it's named somethign like that) - read our thoughts about starting student clubs for some ideas and tips! We hope this is useful and we hope that you find ways to get active in the fight, because the fight is about to get very, very real!

[lasandra]

Oh boy. Someone out there really thinks the reason some fans aren't happy with the writing... is because Veilguard wasn't written to be more morally grey? *blinks* Okay. So I am one of the people who was not happy with the writing in Veilguard and I can 100% confirm that when I say, "I am not happy with the writing," that is me being unhappy with the quality of writing. I happen to be perfectly fine with a good old fashioned story of good vs evil, if it's well written. Inquisition was definitely a good vs evil story, especially when compared to its predecessors, and I love Inquisition. And I suspect that most of the DA fans that are not entirely pleased by the writing feel very similarly. The criticism about Veilguard's writing and the wanting of a more morally grey story are two separate issues. One person might not be satisfied with the writing quality but can perfectly well enjoy a story of good vs evil. While another may be content with the writing quality but feel the story would have benefitted from more moral nuance. Some people feel both and others feel neither. If you are someone who is perfectly content with Veilguard's writing quality and story direction, then great! I am seriously happy for you. I do not exist to be the enjoyment police. Especially over something as inconsequential as a singleplayer video game. I did NOT find the writing quality satisfactory. And I know they can do better, because they've DONE better. I don't even lay the blame the writers necessarily. I've seen enough posts to feel pretty confident that the writers were not given the free reign to write the Dragon Age they wanted to. Not to mention the layoffs. If you don't think the layoffs affected the writing of this game then you, my friend, are living in delulu land. Stuff was clearly going down behind the scenes at Bioware/EA and it shows in Veilguard. Not being satisfied with the writing quality also doesn't mean that one didn't find enjoyment in playing the game. There was plenty of stuff I thought was done well and I loved. But I and many other longtime Dragon Age fans still saw the flaws, and were baffled because of ALL the areas we could have expected there to be flaws with this game, the writing was not one of them. And it's not wrong for us to speak out about it. If the layoffs or one (or multiple) of the higher ups stifling the writers caused the writing issues we are upset about, they need to be made aware of what a MASSIVE mistake that was so that it can be corrected in future games. If you can't handle hearing about criticisms over something that you enjoyed then I must lovingly tell you, you need to get past this or life is going to kick the ever-living shit out of you and I don't want that to happen. We live in a difficult world, with real and important issues, with people who, at times, fundamentally disagree with us. You can block someone online but what are you going to do offline? People are not so easily blocked IRL and I want you to be able to handle this sort of thing and be fine.

“dragon age fans are getting too upset about the writing in veilguard, not everything needs to have areas of grey, sometimes it’s okay to just be good vs evil” imagine having the brainpower of a goldfish

[strandnreyes]

thanks @nisbanisba @heartstringsduet @thisbuildinghasfeelings @carlossreaders @paperstorm !!

“The Ryders are hosting a game night this weekend.”

TK’s voice cuts above the rumbling of traffic outside. Carlos stays facing away, but he opens his eyes to stare at the dresser across from him. “Did we get invited or did you overhear that?”

“We were invited. Saturday at seven.”

Slowly, Carlos rolls over onto his back. He bunches the blankets up in his hands and he can feel TK staring at him. “We should go,” he says, because there’s no other option. They haven’t had too many group opportunities lately and though it’s what they should do, it’s what they’re here to do, Carlos has become attached to the quiet nights spent at home with TK.

He has work to do though. He knew TK was a distraction. He’s always known that.

“We haven’t been in their place yet,” TK reminds him, and Carlos finally looks over at him. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It would be a good time to snoop.”

“What do you want to snoop for?” he questions. Has there been something about them that he hasn’t picked up on yet?

“Nothing in particular.”

“Okay,” Carlos says slowly.

“This case is getting boring,” TK groans, and Carlos’ heart plummets. Here he is wishing to never leave and TK is counting down the days until it’s over.

“Oh.”

TK’s eyes widen briefly. “No, I mean… I’m having fun. More than I thought I would. This is so much better than drinking break room coffee and making rice-a-roni when I get home from the precinct at seven, but the case itself is so dry I’d think we were working over in the white collar division, not homicide.”

While Carlos’ heart rate returns to a normal pace, he has to consider that TK is right. “Yeah. We need to start making some headway.”

tagging @reyesstrand @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @whatsintheboxmh @tellmegoodbye @theghostofashton @ironheartwriter @orchidscript @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @alrightbuckaroo @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-tk @carlos-in-glasses @basilsunrise @bonheur-cafe @butchreyes @mikibwrites @nancys-braids + open tag!!

[prettyinpikk]

Just like that baby~

This is a longer version of the Nasty thought 🤭. But to be honest guys, I'm not the best writer, so I'm really nervous about how this will do but I hope you enjoy it.

Hana♡~

Terry is a man who is well disciplined and very put together. He has this dominant ora to him when he walks into a room. Everyone tightens up but can't help but take a glance at the gorgeous man that stands in front of them.

And it wasn't any different for you.

Terry and you have been together for a while now, and it took you some time to get used to his dominance not really used to men in your past being this way it made you feel things that no man till now has made you feel.

He was usually the one who did most of the things around the house, like paying the bills, fixing up around the place, and doing most of the cooking. He wanted you to feel like the princess you are when you're with him, and that also came with the sex.

"Give it to me mama give me one mo, and then you can rest."

He says this as he's deep in your guts, tears falling out of your pretty brown eyes, and moans flow through the air as he hits that one spot that drives you crazy.

"You heard me lil girl you better not fall asleep on me I want that nut out y' and Imma get it." He leans down to give you a rough kiss, his big hand wrapping itself around your neck, squeezing enough to turn you on.

"Ouuu baby, I'm cummin' please it's too muchhh~"

"Give it to me just like that baby~"

For the rest of the night, it was him pampering you and taking care of your needs like massaging your sore spots and giving you kisses.

Omggggg I really hoped y'all liked it like I said I am not Maya Angelo but you know I tried😭☠️.

♡~

@persethegawd

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @pocketsizedpanther @kimuzostar

[daiskiii]

hi diva, saw that y you're taking requests and had to think of something with anya x reader :3

would you be comfortable with writing anya x non-binary! reader where they're together and she takes care of them after getting ill on the ship? reader feels like a burden yey anya reassures them that she's thei girlfriend and will always take care of them no matter what :3

Authors note: Hii i hope this is what you were looking for! thank you for the request :3 Let me know if theres any mistakes !

Anya mouthwashing x Nonbinary reader

Fluff, established relationship, lmk if i missed anything!

You, Anya, Daisuke and Swansea had met up in the main area during your breaks simply just to talk about how everything’s going and listen to Daisuke talk about his favourite pokémon’s, thats all you gathered anyway as your headache was unbearable and making it hard for you to listen in on what they were talking about.

After a while Anya noticed something was wrong and at first she thought you were probably just tired and wouldn’t want her to make a big deal out of it but after seeing you caress the side of your head groaning slightly out of pain it hit her that it was more than just tiredness.

“Are you okay?” Her words slapped you out of thought as you groggily averted your gaze towards her “Hm? oh yeah i’m fine, just didn’t sleep that well” She hums in acknowledgment even though her expression tells you she knows somethings off, but decided to take your word for it and leave it be for now.

As you all went back to work you couldn’t help but rest your back against the wall, eventually sliding down as you hid your head in your knees, taking a small break from work as your headache was not only getting worse but also making you cough every five seconds.

You sigh in annoyance while attempting to massage your temples hoping it would ease the pain. You heard footsteps approaching as you sat there contemplating whether you should look up and see who it is or stay on the ground and pray it isn’t Curly or Jimmy while trying your best to calm your headache down, you decided for the latter.

“Oh god y/n are you okay?” A familiar voice caught your attention as you looked up only to find Anya looking down at you anxiously, her face full of worry and concern. “I’m fine just needed a little break” you said as you closed your eyes, the lights only worsening your headache.

“y/n i wanna believe that i really do but i could hear you coughing all the way down the hall- are you sure you’re okay?” she asked as she crouched down to your level, slowly raising her hand to your forehead. “Jesus y/n.. you’re heating up!” she yelped, helping you stand as you leaned your back against the wall once more. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a little headache it’ll go away” she looked at you unconvinced as she held your hand and brought you to medical despite you insisting you were fine, laying you down on the bed while she looked through the cabinets for some medicine.

“You don’t have to do this you know.. i’ll just walk it off” You said as you slowly sat up, holding your head as you groaned in pain, it felt like the whole room was spinning. “Y/n, you’re ill, i’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing.. i care about you, not only as your nurse but also as your girlfriend. Take these, they should help ease the headache” She said softly as she handed you some medicine and a glass of water.

“Anya, really, you don’t have to do this.. i don’t wanna be a burden. I’ll just ask curly if i can take the day off or something..” you said as you swallow the pills she had given you, handing her the glass when you were done, groggily getting up to leave before Anya stood in front of the doorway, blocking you from leaving.

“You’re not a burden, y/n. Lay down, please. I can’t go around knowing you’re sick and not do anything about it.. lay down and let me make you feel better, please.” she pleaded as she looked at you, holding you hand and raising the other one to your cheek, softly rubbing her thumb back and forth.

As much as you didn’t want to be a burden your headache was getting horrible and the thought of laying in a bed with your girlfriend holding you company didn’t sound so bad, it was either that or work your ass off for the next few hours. “Okay, but don’t over work yourself, the headache will go away after a while” You said as her gaze softened, pressing a kiss to your cheek before laying you back down and making the lights more dim so the brightness wouldn’t worsen your headache.

“I’ll go tell Curly you’re not feeling well. I’ll be right back, okay?” she said softly as you turned to look at her “Mhm, love you” you said as she turned to walk out the door, quickly turning around and saying “i love you too” before strolling down the hall, leaving you feeling tired. Taking a nap sounds pretty nice right now. Closing your eyes makes the headache a bit more bearable as you end up fall asleep not soon before Anya came back.

She walked into the room barely able to make out your sleeping figure in the dim lights, smiling at you as she kissed your forehead and muttered a quiet “i love you” before turning around to continue her work, your light snores like lullabies to her as she took a deep breath, relaxing her tense muscles knowing you’re resting still in her reach, knowing she can keep you safe.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

I'm going to write a yandere x oc fanfic. So it's a bit of a slowburn where they start off as friends. What i'm focusing on rn is the fact that while they're friends, my oc never 'felt' like she cared for him, or at least formed an emotional connection. She lacks empathy and feels guilty for it, but she does her best to fulfill her role as a proper friend out of obligation. She only starts truly caring for him 2 years into the relationship after he communicated that he did care for her.

Sooo I think that she has an avoidant attachment style? So that's basically what I'm asking about, please. Or any idea what other labels you think might apply to her? (They're gonna be co-defendant asf)

Writing Notes: Avoidant Attachment Style

Some signs of an avoidant attachment style can include:

Avoidance of emotional/physical intimacy

Strong sense of independence

Uncomfortable when expressing feelings

Dismissive of others

Sending mixed signals

Hard time trusting

Commitment issues

Often spends more time alone than with others

An unrealistically positive picture of their attachment figures

A failure to build long-term relationships due to the inability to engage physically and emotionally on a deeper level

In a romantic relationship, avoidant individuals may:

Appear distant or emotionally detached

Often avoid deep emotional connections and intimacy

Emphasize boundaries

Use distancing strategies (emotional or physical)

Prioritize independence and self-reliance above emotional intimacy

Need to get away or "explodes" during a disagreement

Not make his/her intentions clear

Devalue their partner

Struggle to express their feelings or offer support to their significant other during times of distress

Suppress emotions and maintain distance in their relationship to avoid vulnerability and potential harm

This can lead to feelings of neglect or emotional abandonment on either side of the relationship.

While they might do well in maintaining boundaries and independence, their hesitance to engage emotionally can undermine the development of deeper relationships.

If your character finds themselves struggling to express their feelings or show physical affection, they may identify with an avoidant attachment style.

On Deciphering Attachment Style:

Determine whether s/he seeks intimacy and closeness.

Assess how preoccupied s/he is with the relationship and how sensitive s/he is to rejection.

Don’t rely on one “symptom,” look for various signs.

Assess his/her reaction to effective communication.

Listen and look for what he or she is not saying or doing.

Common Avoidant Thoughts, Emotions, and Reactions

THOUGHTS

All-or-nothing thinking: I knew s/he wasn’t right for me, this proves it!

Overgeneralizing: I knew I wasn’t made to be in a close relationship.

Malicious intent: S/he’s really out to annoy me, it’s so obvious…

Fantasizing about having sex with other people.

"S/he’s taking over my life, I can’t take it!"

"Now I have to do everything his/her way; the price is too high."

"I need to get out of here, I feel suffocated."

"If s/he was “the one” this kind of thing wouldn’t happen."

"When I was with (phantom X) this wouldn’t have happened."

"S/he just wants to tie me down, this isn’t true love."

"I’ll be better off on my own."

"Ugh, s/he’s so needy! It’s pathetic."

EMOTIONS

Withdrawn ⚜ Frustrated ⚜ Angry ⚜ Pressured ⚜ Distrustful

Unappreciated ⚜ Misunderstood ⚜ Resentful ⚜ Hostile

Aloof ⚜ Empty ⚜ Deceived ⚜ Tense ⚜ Hate-filled ⚜ Restless

Self-righteous ⚜ Contemptuous ⚜ Despairing ⚜ Scornful

ACTIONS

Act out ⚜ Get up and leave ⚜ Belittle their partner

Act hostile, look disdainful ⚜ Make critical remarks

Withdraw mentally or physically ⚜ Minimize physical contact

Keep emotional sharing to a minimum

Stop listening to partner. Ignoring him/her.

POSSIBLE CAUSES

Primary caregivers were emotionally distant or dismissive of the person's needs in childhood. An avoidant individual often then learns to cope by suppressing their emotions and developing self-sufficiency.

Initially it was assumed that adult attachment styles were primarily a product of our upbringing. Thus, it was hypothesized that our current attachment style is determined by the way in which we were cared for as a baby (e.g., if parents/caregivers were distant, rigid, and unresponsive, the child should develop an avoidant attachment style).

Today, however, we know that attachment styles in adulthood are influenced by a variety of factors, one of which is the way our parents cared for us, but other factors also come into play, including our genes and life experiences.

Here are a few tips you can incorporate in your character's storyline to potentially change this style of attachment:

They start with communication (open communication is the foundation of a strong relationship)

Establish boundaries with their partner

Write down their own emotions and feelings throughout the day

Approach their relationship as a team and work together

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: On Attachment ⚜ Writing References

From what you described, avoidant attachment sounds about right. But as the writer, you know more about the character, like their backstory. Do you think they fit this attachment style? A good reminder when we use these psychological models: Attachment theorists assume that the relationship between early experiences and subsequent outcomes is probabilistic, NOT deterministic. Use these notes as one reference/guide as you develop your characters. Hope this helps with your writing!

[moonlit-imagines]

I Know The End

Eternals x reader

warnings:

a/n: wait this song is kinda perfect for this

prompt: @the-kinnie-in-me: “Hi! I saw the extension for your 8k event (congrats btw) and wanted to participate with “I know the end” by Phoebe Bridgers + Marvel’s Eternals + Familial and reader is an eternal too if that’s okay 😅 tysm in advance 💕”

It happened to be that you left the Eternals long before the rest felt the need. Something just didn’t feel right as you spent some thousand years protecting humanity and regardless of what the others thought or their devotion to the mission, you knew you wanted out.

You snuck away in the dead of night feeling a massive sense of guilt the further the distance from the only family you’d known all these years. Ajak, Druig, Sersi, all of them would be so hurt you left without a word—but would they have let you leave if you told them?

You didn’t want to be found, not for now. Maybe not ever. But those memories would always haunt you and urge you to go back and you couldn’t drown them out.

Now it was the 21st century and the Eternals were at your front door.

“Found you.” Druig chuckled, inviting himself and the others into your little apartment. “The end is here, y/n.”

“No ‘hello,’ huh? What do you mean? Why are you here?” Your voice chock-full of frustration and embarrassment.

“There was no ‘goodbye.’” Sersi replied, lightly stepping on your creaky hardwood floor, observing some of your collection. “Six hundred A.D.” She pointed to an item on your shelf. “Egypt without us?” You sat down on your couch and shook your head.

“Why did you guys come here? ‘The end’ isn’t good enough.” You demanded as Sprite sat beside you.

“Deviants are back.” Ikaris explained and you rolled your eyes.

“You can handle those. I saw them on the news.m already.” Your guard hadn’t dropped yet, but you felt tears welling just from your family being present in your home.

“A new Celestial is being born.” Sersi added, something they should have led with. “From Earth. It will destroy everything if we don’t find a way to prevent that.”

“You want to kill it?” You asked, completely horrified.

“Merely put it off until a better option presents itself.” Druig continued the conversation and your eyes widened, not understanding how that would even be possible. Your life flashed before you and you just felt lost—you had no idea what happened between when you left and now. Fifteen hundred years passed and now they were asking for your help as if nothing had happened.

“Will you come with us?” Ikaris asked and all eyes fell onto you. You felt a lump in your throat when the question was presented, and Sprite grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

“We need you, y/n. Goodbye or not, we want you there with us when we figure this out.” Sersi assured you, and you smiled lightly.

“Yeah. If you don’t, everyone might die.” Druig added and Ikaris glared at him. You chuckled out of amusement and discomfort and nodded.

“Yeah. Why not…”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @mymelodymia // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Can you please write a classic trope of reader overhearing black album/load James calling her “clingy”? Like guys in the band joke about it and he is fed up? So she stops coming over to studios and bringing food over, stops asking him to pick her up from work, if he wants to go to a bar, she always has a “headache”? Maybe it’s not until Bob Rock mentions that he likes when she’s over cause James always does a better job in her presence? - that’s when he gets that something is off???

I hope you like it❤

Hurtful Word

The studio has that same familiar smell—beer, lingering cigarette smoke, and the electric hum of amps running hot. I balance a bag with burgers and a beer as I push open the door, knowing James has been holed up here for hours. I just wanted to show up, bring him something he’d actually eat, something other than junk food and coffee. It’s a small thing, but I’ve always thought it meant something.

But as soon as I walk in, Lars glances over and smirks at Kirk. Their eyes flick to me, exchanging that look they always get when they’re about to make a joke.

“Damn, man,” Lars says, his voice loud enough to carry. “You got yourself a personal chef now? Can’t even get a sandwich without her delivering it?”

Kirk snickers, crossing his arms. “Yeah, dude, she’s here more than we are. Got a whole support team working for you, huh?”

The teasing makes my chest tighten, but I keep my head high, hoping James will laugh it off. But instead of a joke or a roll of his eyes, he glances at me, looks away, and mutters, “You don’t need to keep doing this. It’s kinda… clingy.”

Clingy. The word slices through me, and I freeze. I don’t even hear the guys teasing him further because the room goes silent in my head. Clingy.

Lars laughs. “Oh, she’s clingy now?” he grins. “Better watch out, man, she might end up moving in next.”

“Yeah, at least keep some space, Hetfield,” Kirk chimes in. “You don’t want to be tied down yet.”

My smile falters. I feel my face heat, and I force myself to nod. “Right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hover.” My voice is too tight, too fake. I turn to leave quickly, wanting to get out before anyone can say anything else.

I don’t even make it to the door before I hear James mutter something, but it’s too late. I’m already out.

____

James Hetfield POV

The next few days are strange. She’s not at the studio, hasn’t called, hasn’t stopped by. When I wanted to go at bar she said that she had a headache. I figured at first she’d just been busy. But by the second day, I realize it’s more than that. She’s actively keeping her distance. I try to shake it off, thinking it’s just her way of taking some space, but there’s an unease gnawing at me.

My concentration is shot. The guys are noticing. I can’t get anything right during practice.

Bob Rock finally pulls me aside one evening, looking at me like he knows something’s wrong.

“You okay, James?” Bob asks, his tone casual but concerned. “You’ve been off the last couple of days. It’s like something’s not clicking.”

I rub my face, trying to avoid admitting it. “Just tired, man. It’s been a long couple of sessions.”

Bob gives me a look, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I get it. But, uh... I’ve noticed something, and I’m gonna be blunt with you, alright?”

I look up, a little surprised. “What’s that?”

Bob leans in slightly, his voice dropping. “When she’s here, when she’s around, you play better. Hell, the band’s tighter, too. There’s something about the way you focus when she’s here, like she brings out the best in you. But now that she’s gone... it’s like you’ve lost your spark.”

I stare at Bob, the words hitting harder than I expected. She makes me better? I never thought of it that way. But Bob’s right. Every time she showed up with lunch or a little note, I’d felt more grounded. More centered. The music flowed easier. And now? It’s like the fire’s gone out. The sessions feel lifeless. I’ve been distracted, unfocused.

Suddenly, I feel a deep pang of regret. I hadn’t realized how much she was actually keeping me grounded, how much her quiet presence affected me. I’d taken her for granted, pushed her away with my stupid, careless words. I can’t take it anymore. Not the silence. Not the distance between us. I’ve been calling her all week, and every time, it goes straight to voicemail. It’s eating me alive. I don’t care how bad I fucked up—I need to fix this. I need to see her, to hear her, to make sure she knows that I’m sorry. 

I jump in the car, my hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly. My thoughts are a jumbled mess. “Clingy” I said that word to her. And now I can't stop hearing it echoing in my head. The guys had joked, but I could see it in her eyes—she wasn’t laughing. I pushed her away, and now I can’t reach her. 

I don’t even think as I pull up to her building. I park quickly, my heart pounding in my chest, and rush to the door. My breath catches in my throat as I knock, then ring the doorbell. There’s no answer. I knock again, harder this time, and then… nothing. 

I press my ear against the door, and I hear movement inside. My stomach tightens. I don’t know if it’s hope or desperation, but I feel the overwhelming need to be with her, to fix what’s broken.

Finally, the door opens just enough for her face to peek through. Her eyes are tired, and she looks… fragile. Like she’s been holding herself together, but just barely.

I swallow hard. “Can we talk?” My voice cracks a little, betraying the anxiety twisting in my gut. “I need to talk to you.”

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even step aside at first. For a second, I think she might slam the door in my face. But then she opens it wider, just enough to let me in. I walk past her, my heart hammering in my chest, and she follows me in silence.

The air between us is thick—heavy with everything that hasn’t been said. I turn around to face her, and for a moment, I can’t find the words. The look on her face… It breaks me. It’s like she’s shutting down, like she’s already made up her mind to walk away.

“I was stupid,” I blurt, the words tumbling out faster than I can control. “I shouldn’t have said that. "Clingy". What the hell was I thinking? You’re not clingy. You’re—God, I don’t even know how to fix this. I can’t take it back, but I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

She just stands there, her eyes cold and distant. I hate it. I hate seeing her like this—like she doesn’t care anymore. The silence between us stretches out, making the weight of what I said feel heavier than ever.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice is quieter than I expect, almost like a whisper. “You made me feel like I was too much. Like I wasn’t even wanted. I was just trying to be there for you, and you… you pushed me away. In front of the guys, James. You made me feel like a joke.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I can see it now—how badly I hurt her. How wrong I was. She’s standing there, so small, her shoulders slumped like she’s carrying the weight of everything I’ve said. 

I feel my chest tightening, my throat burning. “I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean to do that. You’ve never been too much, not for me. I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re everything to me, and I—God, I don’t even know how I got so fucking stupid.”

I take a step toward her, my hand reaching out, but she pulls back slightly. “I don’t know if you even understand how much you hurt me,” she says, her voice shaking now. “You made me feel like I was suffocating you. And I can’t keep trying if you’re not going to see me. If you don’t want me around…”

The words trail off, and I can hear the tears in her voice. My heart shatters, and before I even realize it, I’m moving toward her, pulling her into my arms.

“I didn’t mean it,” I say, my voice breaking. “I don’t ever want to hurt you. I was a fucking idiot, okay? Please, don’t walk away from me.”

She stands still for a moment, then gives in, her body relaxing as she buries her face in my chest. I feel the wetness of her tears against my shirt, and it kills me. I never wanted to make her feel like this. Never.

“I miss you,” I whisper, holding her tighter. “I need you. Please don’t leave me.”

Her hands clutch the front of my shirt, and for a moment, we’re both just standing there, tangled up in the mess of emotions between us. The silence is raw, but it feels real.

She pulls back slightly, just enough to look me in the eyes. “You’ve gotta promise me, James. Promise me you’ll never do this again. That I’m not just some fucking joke to you.”

“I promise,” I say, my voice steady now. “I swear to you, I’ll never make you feel that way again. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what I had until I almost lost it.”

And then, suddenly, I feel the need to say something else. Something that’s been weighing on me for a while. I pull her back into my arms, my hands gripping her tightly as I press my lips to her hair. “You know, I always appreciated you showing up at the studio. I never said it, but you always brought something with you—something that helped me focus.

When you’re there, I can think clearer, the music just comes to me better. It’s like I’m myself again, you know? And when you weren’t around these last couple of days, I realized how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I need you there. Not just because I like having you close, but because you make me better.”

She doesn’t speak for a moment, but I feel her body soften against mine. “I didn’t know that,” she whispers.

“I should have told you sooner,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I need you in my life. Not just in the studio, but everywhere.”

Her hand rests gently on my chest. “I need you too, James. But you’ve gotta prove it.”

“I will,” I promise, brushing my lips against her forehead. “Every day, I’ll show you.”

We stand there in the quiet of her apartment, the weight of everything between us slowly lifting. For the first time in days, I feel a sense of peace. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know that as long as I don’t let her go again, we’ll find our way through it together.

[half-dead-ham]

Tim Drake's I.E.F Chap 5

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Mmmmm this is probably gonna be the last chapter I link to Tumblr tonight. It's like, 2am? Yea I deserve some sleep. I'll hopefully get some more out tmrr. But who knows? Certainly not me.

Also. I have never pulled a prank on my sib and this chapter displays that fully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking over the plans on his laptop, Tim can't help but smile. It may be slightly maniacal, but with the plans he has, he couldn't help it.

Only a day has passed since Jason came to check on Tim, and since then he's been putting together a series of plans for his siblings. We're they good plans? No, not at all.

Tim, with the ready help of his new friend that could go both invisible and intangible had prepared a set of pranks specifically for each family member -minus Bruce and Alfred- in order of who needs it most. A few times while writing in the document he titled 'the shit list' he could hear his friend giggling from over his shoulder, the soft reverb sending chills down his spine that had nothing to do with the familiar cold his friend gave off. It was distracting, but it showed that Tim had gotten a bit closer with Arcturus, even if just a little bit.

"Alright," he nodded, giving the list one last look over before turning to where he could feel the epicentre of the cold.

"I have one last thing that'll make this perfect." Tim turned to rummage in his bedside table, absently noting the lack of strain such a movement had on his wounds. His hand brushed what he was looking for, and he pulled it out to show to Arct, laying the object on the palm of his hand. A compact surveillance camera sat neatly on his palm, perfect for watching the chaos unfold from the safety of his hospital bed in the medbay while his friend enacted righteous vengeance.

Arcturus must have grabbed the camera because it floated off his palm over to the bedside chair, turning every so often for his friend to get a better view of the device.

"Cool isn't it? We use these to keep tabs on some of the regular rogue hideouts, and sometimes infiltrations if we need a wire." Tapping a few things on his keyboard he brought up the camera's feed. A grainy image appeared, jumping and lagging every few seconds. Odd, this was supposed to be a newer model, there shouldn't be any interference with the signal, especially this close to the cam itself.

To his left Arct made a trill that sounded like clinking icicles and a feeling of understanding that wasn't his own washed over Tim. Frowning and looking over he watched his friend bring up the camera to what Tim thought would be about chest level, and just to its left sparked to life a green flame.

No, that wasn't quite right, the green pulsed and warbled, but it stayed mostly circular, not pointed like a candle's flame. The light moved closer to the camera and Tim could just make out the silhouette of his friend's pointed claw before it made contact. Touching the light to the camera seemed to affect it somehow, as he watched the camera absorb the light fully, glowing slightly before that too faded into the device.

Tim wondered just what Arct had done to the device until the laptop in front of him notified him with a ding! 

'New power source detected, convert?' He'd never seen that pop-up before. Cautiously glancing back over to the chair, he clicked the 'accept' button and watched as the program closed, then opened back up a second later. The camera feed now had a slight green tint to it, but the glitching and static had stopped. 'Whatever Arct had done to the camera probably counteracted the interference his aura gave off,' Tim figured.

He turned to his friend to give his thanks, but the words died on his lips as he watched the small figure of the camera flicker and disappear. Trying to find them was useless, his friend could obscure the cold feeling he gave off when he wanted, even Tim couldn't find him. Tim turned back to the footage on his laptop only to get jumpscared by a closeup of his own face.

A ghostly giggle echoed in front of him as Tim groaned. Arcturus really did fit perfectly in this family if he was already scaring him like that for no reason.

"Okay, okay, enough playing around. Ready to start a war?" He grinned, sharp and feral. He could only imagine Arct was doing the same as the camera came back into view to bob up and down rapidly.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny first tracks down Stephanie in the library. The blond Danny's come to know as Spoiler is lounging on one of the many couches in the large room with a book in hand and a glass of water on the small table next to her. Too focused on her book, she reaches over to get her drink without looking. She frowns, she knew she put her glass close by, but she can't find it by touch alone.

Frowning, she finally tears her gaze from her book to the end table beside her, only to find her water, sitting innocently where she had left it. Taking and inspecting it reveals nothing out of place with the glass or the table. Stephanie says nothing as she looks out to the rows of bookshelves, then behind her and the couch, trying to find anyone to place blame, but she was alone. Or so she thought.

Turning back, she shrugs to herself and tips the glass to take a sip, only to yelp as a large ice cube slid out of the cup and onto her nose. She jumps back in her seat, startled, at the solid chunk of what used to be her drinking water now sitting in her lap. Hesitantly, she pokes at it, expecting it to seemingly explode. Once, twice, three times all come up with something cold but solid. The fourth time her nail lightly grazes the side and suddenly she's drenched from the waist down in room temperature water.

She rushes to her feet, pants soaked and dripping onto the carpet. Again, she looks around for anyone in the room, even glaring at the high tops of the bookshelves, expecting one of her family members to jump out and tell her she just got pranked. But again, she's alone in the library. Danny lets a breathy chuckle escape him as he watches Stephanie glare accusingly at nothing, then her soiled pants, and finally storming out of the library, book now forgotten. He makes sure the book is left on another couch in case she comes back. Then floats off to find his next target.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian is in his room working on that day's portion of homework when he feels a presence. An all too familiar presence that reminds him of a time before he lived in the manor.

A dangerous presence.

He spins around in his chair, previously concealed dagger now in hand. The room hasn't changed, his weapons are still perched in their displays on his wall, the curtains sway lightly in the mid afternoon breeze. Paranoia runs through him like electricity as he crosses the room to close the window, certain of what he felt. Pit demons could not be seen by normal men, they were monsters spawned by the Lazarus pits to bring chaos and madness for all those trying to use their powers. If there were a pit demon in the manor, they would all be dead before long.

Moving back to his desk in slow movements, Damian tried to pick up on that familiar feeling. The feeling of unchecked desire and death. He found an empty room.

This did not comfort him.

Damian took another dagger out of its hiding place just as he heard the door handle rattle. Tearing the door almost off its hinges he raced after that presence through the house, down corridors and ballrooms, stairways and secret passageways. The presence finally stopped in the main foyer. Damian scanned the entrance room with daggers drawn, trying to sense where the thing had disappeared to.

Just as the tension started to leave his shoulders with the thought of 'needing more sleep, lest he end up like Drake' a snowflake landed on his nose. He looked up just in time to see a mound of snow fall on him in a whump! leaving only his head and neck exposed. With his body restrained, Damian could do nothing as the pit demon's presence glides back up the main staircase and disappears down a corridor, static hissing conveying its glee in its wake.

-

Damian returns to his room cold and damp, a blanket on his shoulders and mug of warm cardamom milk in his hand. Swinging the door open Damian is outraged to see all his weapons, hidden ones included, painted and arranged on his floor in the forms of several different flowers. He growls and glowers at nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim made sure to save Duke for last, as his powers might give Arct some trouble. Danny doesn't know exactly why a guy like Duke is on 'the shit list' but doesn't question it if it means getting to prank someone.

The meta is currently using the training space in the cave to practice grapples and throws in a simulation.

A cold chill runs up his spine and he blocks a punch. Duke knows no one besides Tim is in the cave, and he shouldn't be up and running around yet, so otherwise Duke is alone. The simulation ends, Duke bent over with hands on his knees as he tries to steady his breathing. Something passes behind him, cold and charged, like a broken power line in the middle of winter. He glanced behind him, breathing having levelled out some, but sees nothing. Looking over his other shoulder provides similar results.

Suspicious, Duke calls out to the empty room.

"Hello?" His voice echoes in the silence of the cavernous room. Something else replies, a cold haunting whisper of a laugh. It has no source that he could see, bouncing off the stone walls and seemingly coming from every direction. The black and white streak from the corner of his vision is the final straw, he needs to nope the heck out of here.

Taking quick strides out of the training room, he only makes it past the threshold when something grabs his ankle. He tries to jerk away but the thing's grip is strong, keeping him bound to that spot on the floor even as he's leaning back with his full weight. It's grip on his ankle loosens ever so slightly after a moment, and Duke hopes he's able to get away with that smidge more wiggle room.

His heart plummets as a sensation radiates out from the grip, cold like spearmint and chilled water. It envelops him, and for a second Duke feels weightless.

Then, the thing pulls.

Duke is pulled through the floor, scream caught in his throat as stone and dirt pass through him and the unseen being. He tries to see what has him, but this darkness doesn't respond as it would normally. His X-ray vision doesn't help either, as it just shows him more earth and the sewers below Gotham.

A sinking feeling slips into the pit of his stomach as he wonders if he'll be left down here, were the thing that has him let go. That thought was jerked away with him as the being dragged him up up up and breaches land. It was all he could do to not cry from relief at seeing the late Gotham sky when gravity reasserted itself and the pressure on his ankle vanished. He dropped face first into the grass.

"Owww…" Duke groans. Laying there seems like the better option as he tries to get his heart rate under control for a different reason than before. Rolling over takes more energy than he'd like, but it's worth it if it means he's not inhaling grass. Cracking one eye open he does not expect to see a shadowy figure leaning over him, it's green eyes peering at him, inspecting him like a specimen. He lays as still as he can, not wanting to breathe as this creature's eyes wash over him like a tiger watching an antelope.

The things eyes travel up to his face, and a cheshire grin manifests itself in the roiling black of its face, stark white in contrast and with too many teeth. 'Ah, I'm going to die' was all Duke could think before the thing lunges. Screwing his eyes shut might have been the last thing he ever does…

A few minutes pass and nothing happens. No pain or cold could be felt anywhere on his body, so he cautiously cracks an eye open. Blue sky overhead, trees and the manor in the distance, but no sight of the black thing that literally dragged him here. Duke sits up slowly, turning his head to try and see the thing.

It's gone.

He could almost think it was a dream if he didn't have to walk all the way back to the manor in his workout gear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The prank war—more of a slaughter really—went on for the next two days. At random hours strange things will go on around the three siblings still in the manor, things disappearing and reappearing in other locations, water turning to ice when they blink and back again, strange noises or cold spots in empty rooms. It all leads up to dinner.

Tim had been given the okay from Alfred to exit medbay and eat solid food. Alfred had marvelled at Tim's speedy recovery—no one heals from a bullet to the lung in a week and a half—but made sure to drill into him that he wouldn't be doing any strenuous work, during the day or night.

Tim was okay with that, he thought as he sat down and watched as the others set the table around him. The three targets were haggard and paranoid, jumping at shadows (in Duke's case literally.) Arcturus was around somewhere close, he had hidden his presence as Tim hobbled up the stairs with Alfred's help, and Tim wondered if he'd be able to get away with anymore pranking today.

With the table set, the three sat across from Tim, stiff and uncomfortable. Tonight's dinner would be soup, mainly because Tim still had to recover, but there was a side of steamed vegetables and buttered bread to be dipped if preferred.

They sat in tense silence, Bruce late again, as always. Smirking, Tim tried to make conversation with his three siblings.

"So, anything interesting happen around here while I was rotting in bed?"

Damian scowled and glanced to his left, towards Bruce's chair. Duke paled by at least two shades, and Stephanie's eye twitched.

"Nothing happened Timmy, we're all just peachy." Steph ground out. Man she was really on her last straw.

Good.

He watched absently as a piece of steamed broccoli dropped into the plate. 'So Arct was hiding under the table' he thought as he tried making more small talk with his siblings.

"Y'know I've been hearing some strange things down in the cave, I'm almost starting to believe it's haunted." He says with a chuckle. Not like he was wrong.

The elbow to the shin both confirms where Arct is and tells him maybe that joke was in bad taste if the ghost doesn't want to be noticed.

Damian's glare told him he didn't miss the minute flinch he gave at that. Neither did Duke apparently, as his brow furrows. Damn detective training. Luckily Steph is still trying to burn a hole through her bowl with her eyes like Superman.

After that they eat in silence. The sound of clinking cutlery and shuffling in seats fills the room. At one point Duke seems to notice Tim's disappearing veggies, despite Tim not eating them. He drops his spoon, and it clatters off the table with a sound that could have been a gunshot in the quiet dining room.

"Ope, sorry,'' he mutters sheepishly as he scoots his chair back enough to bend down and get it.

As he's bent over, Duke looks over to Tim's side of the table. He nearly jumps out of his skin as he watches the thing, just sitting against his brother's legs, pulling a carrot through the table and putting it in its mouth. He must've made a noise or something, because the thing snaps to look at him with those toxic green eyes. A black appendage lifts for it to wave at him, that Cheshire grin curling out of its face with too many teeth.

Duke jumps back, hitting his head on the underside of the table and falling out of his seat. He scrambles out from under the table to see his three siblings staring at him. Pointing a shaking hand at the thing at Tim's feet he croaked, his voice cracking in fear.

"Something-" He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, "-Something's under the table."

Damian shoots to his feet, newly revealed dagger in hand. Stephanie bolts up too, backing away slowly from the table like it might eat her if she moves too quickly.

Yeah, Tim might have just screwed up.

The frosty sensation pressing against his leg vanishes and he could see Duke gaping at him from the floor. Right, Intangibly, Arcturus probably went through the floor and is gonna hide out in the cave for a while until dinner is over. Tim inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Time to cover his ass.

"What's wrong Duke? Saw a spider or something?" Tim grins down at the other boy from his seat.

"What? No! I saw this, this thing! It was this smokey black thing with green eyes and way too many teeth!" Duke is still pointing at his legs under the table, like Arct will just come back for funsies.

Tim absently wondered if that's what Jason saw, looking at Arcturus. He never gave a description of his friend, even though he came back a few days later. Though he did get pranked by them. They got found out pretty quickly and started talking about other ways to mess with the family after that.

"Tt, so you can see the pit demon then, unsurprising." Damian scowled in Tim's direction, was he taking his anger out on Tim like that? Maybe.

"Wait, hold on-" Steph points at Damian. "-You know what this thing is? And you haven't told us?" She accused.

"I had it under control, it did not seem important as it had not yet tried to harm anyone as of yet." Damian retorted.

"Harm anyone? That thing is violent?!"

"Normally, those of its species are, yes."

Their shouting soon devolved into bickering, their feelings of suspicion and paranoia finally being released in the form of a shouting match as Duke remained frozen on the floor staring at Tim from under the table.

Tim propped his chin on his fist, elbow on the table as the show went on. Honestly this could use some popcorn.

Just as he was getting comfortable Duke squinted at him.

"You knew about that thing, didn't you?" The suspicion was palpable in his voice.

"Knew about what?" He asked innocently.

"The thing! It was up against your legs, you would either have noticed it and tried to get away or you already knew about it!"

Oh, shit. The other two had died down in their shouting match to look at him now. Not good.

Tim tries deflecting, "Duke, I've been tired and sore for a week and a half, you really think I'd be noticing if my legs felt a little chilly?"

The arguing turned into a four-way match. He tried valiantly to deny all accusations thrown at him, but he was up against three other bat-trained detectives, he was bound to let something slip.

"Are you telling us," Damian ground out, "that you just let a dangerous supernatural creature follow you to the manor? Not only are you an imbecile, but you are suicidal as well."

"I didn't let it follow me, I was unconscious. Dick let it follow him." He countered, full face in his hands. This really did not turn out the way he wanted it to.

"And so, what? You just decided 'well they didn't believe me about this, so let's get back at them a little?'" Stephanie had stopped shouting, but the anger was still hot in her voice.

"Basically," he shrugged.

The three across from Tim were about to start berating him, again, when Bruce finally showed up. He looked at the three angry teenagers on one side of the table, then Tim trying to disappear into the chair cushions on the other.

"Did I miss something?" He asked.

His siblings wanted to regale Bruce with his stupidity, but Tim cut them off before they could start.

"They were just telling me how stupid it was of me to try and have coffee with dinner so soon into my recovery." He lied.

Bruce shot a stern look at Tim as he sat down. "And they're right, you're barely out of medbay Tim, coffee won't do you any good right now."

Tim gave a noncommittal hum at that.

The dinner moved quickly after that. Glares were not so subtly shot his way and he no longer felt the same joy he did at the beginning. He decided to cut his losses and retire to his room early.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'This did not go how I thought it would,' Tim thought as he not so gently shut his door and flopped onto his bed. At least he could hole himself up in his room now, so that's a positive.

A cold presence nears his right and gives a small hum, the noise conveyed concern and regret. Arct felt sorry for leaving him? It was his own fault he got himself into that mess. He turned his head from where it was smashed into the mattress to look at where his friend sat, the bed dipping slightly at the invisible weight.

"Not your fault," Tim mumbled through the sheets. "I thought of the pranks, you just did them for me. You still don't trust me enough to even show yourself, and I put you in a dangerous spot for some fun."

He glumly turned his head back into the sheets. He knew his friend didn't trust the bats, he knew Damian knew about pit demons from Jason, yet he still thought using his friend and possibly outing him to his family was a good idea. Stupid, stupid! Tim let out an anguished groan, wallowing and repeating depressing thoughts like a mantra in his head.

All thoughts screeched to a halt when something ran over his scalp. He looked up, expecting not to see anything but instead found a floating white glove carding its fingers soothingly through his hair. Tim felt his eyes flutter as he practically melted into the mattress, his previous thought spiral completely forgotten.

A Trilling chirp sounding of a connecting audio jack moved a question through the air, one simple enough Tim could decipher clearly; better? Leaning into his friend's touch he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Thanks for helping me get out of my head. Sorry I had to tell them some things about you, Dami will probably try and stick around me now to make sure you aren't going to hurt anyone."

The fingers continued their paths through his hair as a trill of understanding filled him. Man, he'd made a great friend.

They continued like that in silence for a while, a floating white glove carding through Tim's hair, and Tim condensing into a puddle on the sheets from the comforting ministrations.

At Tim's yawn, the fingers stopped. Tim groaned at the loss. He looked hazily to his friend, silently urging him to continue. His friend responded with a cold wind rustling branches, the meaning of rest drew another groan from the puddle of teen. Ever so slowly he got up to go to the bathroom and get ready for bed, swaying slightly on his feet occasionally. Arcturus was still there when he got back, with clean pyjamas and a washed face. Tim crawled back into bead and was delighted when the fingers returned to his hair, accompanied by the purr he'd heard on the first night he'd met Arcturus, promising safety and sleep. The petting didn't stop until soft snores could be heard in the dark bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was feeling hungry. His stomach had been roaring since he smelled dinner and it only got worse since stealing the veggies off Tim's plate. Maybe not attending to his human needs for a week and a half wasn't the greatest idea in retrospect, but the need for safety came first. He was currently in a house filled with highly trained and suspicious heroes and hero adjacents, he needed to be more than careful here, or he'd get caught by someone less friendly than Tim and Jason.

Still, he was hungry, and he probably needed a shower. After making sure all the vigilantes' returned from their patrols and tucked themselves safely in their beds, Danny used one of the furthest of the many spare bedroom ensuites (seriously how many rooms does this mansion have?) to scrub all his built up grime away. Not that he sweat or got dirty in ghost form, really, he just phases all the dirt off him, but nothing felt better after a week of stress than a shower.

It was heavenly.

Phasing the water off while in the tub would save the suspicion of a damp towel in an unused bedroom. He got dressed in his most recently washed clothes, thanking his past self for going to the laundromat before all this went down as he stuck his stuff back in the wall.

Danny crept down the winding halls of the manor towards the kitchen, remembering each turn from when he'd explore invisibly while Tim was asleep. Adding a little ghost power aided his steps to be deathly silent.

The kitchen was dark, not that it bothered Danny, as he made a B-line for the fridge. Opening it revealed a treasure trove of ingredients, fruits and veggies, meats and cheese, truly a fridge fit to serve five to twenty people at a time.

He grabbed a carrot and shoved it in his mouth, satisfied he had that to munch on. Danny started cherry picking other snacks, trying to make sure he could get somewhat of a balanced meal out of his pilfering.

The slight rustling of fabric made him stiffen, then a voice behind him had his core sink to his stomach.

"Master Jason, I do believe I have told you to send an advanced notice before you decide to come for a late-night snack," Alfred scolded the large silhouetted form.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Danny didn't move from his hunched position, unsure of what to do. He couldn't lie to the butler, he knew Jason much better than Danny did and would be able to smell the lie as soon as he turned around. Running wouldn't help either, Alfred had seen him. In human form. He'd tell Bruce as soon as he could. 'A mysterious man had bypassed all the detection alarms and raided the fridge early this morning' would send the bat on a search of the manor, top to bottom.

"Master Jason? Are you alright?"

Ah, he'd stayed quiet too long, shit.

The rustling of cloth came closer and in a panic Danny went invisible. A sharp inhale was the only indication of Alfred's surprise, and turning showed the man searching the room with eyebrows raised. Slowly the butler walked to the fridge, taking graceful, sturdy steps as he glided across the kitchen, expecting an attack. As he grabbed the handle of the open fridge door Danny turned intangible to let the door pass through him.

Alfred jerked his hand back as it went through Danny's chest, feeling as though he'd just stuck it in a bucket of dry ice. He'd tried to find the cold spot again, but by then Danny had already flown through the ceiling to Tim's room, the food in his arms forgotten.

Dropping his snacks to the floor as he made it to the correct bedroom Danny rushed to the sleeping form before him and shook him.

"Tim, Tim wake up!" He whisper-shouted, not caring if he was speaking English instead of ghost speak. "Tim, I need your help!"

Tim rolled over, groggy and half asleep.

"Whazzap?" He slurred before yawning.

"Your butler saw me."

"What?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[kj-yikes]

Do you personally like Andrea Rojas as a character?

I honestly wasn't a huge fan at first, but I think with some rewatches, I've changed my tune.

On my first watch of S5 when she's first introduced, I think I kinda brushed her off. She was fine but not the most compelling to me. She seemed written as kind of a means to add depth to the Kara/Lena rift (Lena needed to get away from CatCo, Lena needed more backstory for why betrayal hurts her so much, the weird way they wove in Lena's magic and how she needed the medallion to stop Lex) and Andrea really shakes things up at CatCo, so I was kind of annoyed about her at first. And then Crisis happened and honestly I fucking hate Crisis because I feel like they handled it so poorly on Supergirl (idk how it was for other arrowverse shows) and she just kind of seemed confusing post-Crisis, so I didn't really give her much attention.

But now that I've watched Supergirl, like, so many times, she's grown on me and I get a little upset about how they introduced her as a character just to totally underwrite all her character development with crisis. Andrea is actually a really tragic character, to me. Here are some moments that really shine for me pre-crisis, and I wish we had gotten a little more depth especially post-crisis:

(putting under the cut because wow, maybe I need to read/write some Andrea fics? I clearly have a lot of Thoughts?)

I do like her backstory with Russell and it adds to her character. Their meet-cute is adorable. And she's definitely a "you jump, I jump" kind of gal even with Russell. "Don't kill Russell, he's useful to you." Andrea is super smart and strategic. We don't get a "please don't kill him, I love him, what you're doing is wrong," change your mind/inspire hope kind of speech like we'd get from Kara. Andrea doesn't know a lot about Leviathan, but she knows enough to realize that showing that Russell could be useful is a better tactic to saving him than begging for his life. And it kind of works, sort of. He's alive.

Andrea fiercely loves. Lena asks her to drop everything and go pretend to be explorers to find some medallion that may or may not exist, during a very tumultuous time in Andrea's life, and Andrea does it. She accepts some mysterious bargain for her father's life, then kills when she has to to continue protecting her father. She reasons with Leviathan for Russell's life. Truly, she will do anything for those she loves.

But that's where the tragedy happens. She loves Lena. She loves Russell. But when she has to choose, she chooses her father first, and it destroys her other relationships eventually. (And the fact that her post-Crisis, Earth Prime father blames her when Obsidian tanks is heartbreaking, but I guess we'll get there.) She says it's the biggest mistake of her life, that she never wanted to betray Lena, that the medallion is a burden. I honestly want to know why the medallion unlocked her powers. What does that mean? I have so many questions.

Andrea pre-crisis is a pretty sympathetic character too. She doesn't kill because she's evil. She does it to protect the people she loves. Yeah, it's for evil Leviathan, but honestly I think that's what makes Eve a sympathetic character to me too. Getting blackmailed to do evil things because you love someone? That's some interesting shit, and I do think we kind of get some payoff on this post-crisis.

The scene where Andrea asks for Lena's help to break into the DEO is delicious to me. Andrea just wants to fix her mistakes. She wants to do good, too. ("Honey, when I look at you all I can feel is pain." Why can't queer people have normal breakups??) Lena says she's tired of people hurting each other. She reluctantly agrees to help Andrea (which is, in a way, betraying Kara for Andrea) and then turns around and betrays Andrea (she seems to be all bark and no bite though. "Russell, put down the scalpel" LOL Katie's delivery is so good there). Lena's hurt (she just wants to be someone's #1 for once) and she lashes out like she normally does. It's so deliciously messy and heartbreaking and makes for a good story. There's no doubt that all three characters (including Kara in this, because it's hard to talk about the theme of betrayal without her) are motivated by love, and they all choose to handle it in such different ways.

Idk. I could go on. They really packed quite a bit into the 7? 8? episodes before crisis and I think it pays off pretty well. And then crisis happens, and Earth Prime Andrea is there and....??? They let us lean on knowing Andrea's character pre-crisis but do nothing to distinguish her or tell us what her Earth Prime backstory and motivations are (this just seems to be the common theme with crisis. Like, how does Kelly react to crisis? I think she gets her memories back, but like, she doesn't even know Kara is Supergirl at this point, so??? Anyway this is about Andrea not Kelly).

They get rid of the Russell backstory completely (? I think?). She still has the medallion, so I guess she betrayed Lena, but Lena seems over it because Andrea is useful, so they don't even really get a good reconciliation since Lena brushes it off (not that they ended pre-crisis on good footing, but at least everything was out in the open?).

The only real scene I think has some substance is when Andrea is tasked with killing Supergirl, but even then, I feel like this scene does much more to show Lena's character arc than Andrea's given that we're given practically nothing about Earth Prime Andrea. If you think of it in light of where we know Earth-38 Andrea ended up, it's kind of beautiful to watch Andrea make the choice to be the person she really wants to be (@fazedlight has a really great post about this).

I also think the scene where Kelly finds Andrea crying after the Obsidian debacle to be quite poignant, but only through the lens of knowing Earth-38 Andrea. Earth-38 Andrea sacrificed everything for her father, and her Earth Prime father is so quick to push her under the bus.

I'm getting things a little out of order in my head and I don't have time to go watch, but I think after that, Andrea chooses to kind of rescue herself, make sure she's set up when everything falls apart. I think this is an interesting choice for her. I love that she's choosing herself for the first time, and not doing something self-sacrificial for someone else. But it's still pretty morally gray of her to break into her father's account to buy up her shares of Obsidian. And then, later, she tries reconnecting with Lena for what seems to be the sole purpose of getting a scoop, which Lena doesn't appreciate.

Are those examples of Andrea being who she wants to be? It could go two ways: one, yes, this is her being who she wants to be, and that person is someone who's gonna do anything to get to where she wants to go. I could see it, but it's kind of a sad way for Andrea, who loved so fiercely in Earth-38, to end up as a character. Two, it could be that choosing to do good is hard, and sometimes we slip up. If that were the case, I wish we had gotten more from her as a character at the end of S5 and into S6. Lena and Andrea do somewhat reconcile I think (I’m not quite remembering exactly how, but I remember they’re friendly by the time Lena goes to Newfoundland), but we don't get a lot of them after that.

SO. Do I like Andrea as a character?

Yes? Earth-38 Andrea is certainly an interesting and tragic character. Earth Prime Andrea? Eh. Earth-38 Andrea was kind of set up to be an interesting comparison to Lena and Kara’s falling out and then they were like, well I guess she’s on Earth Prime but we don’t really care to redevelop her backstory. It’s a shame, because I think they could’ve done so much more, especially with her relationship with Lena.