#appreciate that they're all a week apart gives me some time

[curetsun]

Cure Bdays for May (2024)

May 9th: Suzumura Sango (Cure Coral)

May 11th: Omori Yuko (Cure Honey)

May 13th: Inukai Komugi (Cure Wonderful)

May 21st: Yuunagi Tsubasa (Cure Wing)

May 28th: Yotsuba Alice (Cure Rosetta)

additional graphic under the cut, for people who'd rather see it laid out like that

the picture includes itsuki, whose bday is unnoficial, and it didn't include yuko*

[acid-ixx]

How do think readers relationship with each of the batfam would be had they not been neglected?

what if...? ft. domestic headcanons w/ your family

series masterlist &. request masterlist — long post ahead !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 6400+ words, no beta i'm genuinely insane. help i literally thought abt this yesterday !! i may or may not post a drabble about this one specific dream the reader had about where they had a normal relationship with the batfam but at the same time i want to implement it in the next chapter instead so have food for thoughts instead! slight spoilers below. also please do comment and reblog if u like this ! ^^ supporting my writing just makes me further motivated to write even more !

if you were never neglected by your own family, then i could say that the process of them turning yandere would be a tad bit better or worse. i'm saying, because of your past and because of an incident during your elementary years (that could've been avoided if your family actually never ignored you; so let's assume that that incident actually never happened but it opened a gateway for an even more protective family) the batfam could easily be either a dream or nightmare.

let's say it was bruce and dick who had picked you up from the police station. the moment he sees his own firstborn child, all his thoughts would circulate from just how broken and hopeless you absolutely looked, how the injuries litter throughout your entire body, the way your empty eyes stare at anything.

the child, his child, looked exactly like him all those years ago. he knows just how painful it is to bare losing all your loved ones.

he wouldn't hesitate to approach your form, immediately picking you up and letting your head lean on his shoulders as dick follows in tow, cooing about his significantly younger sibling.

that would be the first time dick would call you his baby bird, with the way you'd stare at him with mixed emotions in your eyes.

if him and dick were to hear about what happened to you inside your old apartment from the police (drugged and abused by the same men who took your mother away from you), then be guaranteed that batman and nightwing would be more brutal during their patrol afterwards (dick would even take more weeks off from bludhaven just to care for his younger sibling), even going as far as formulating a plan for your captors, having oracle stalk each and every person involved in your life.

if anyone thinks the vigilante would abide by his no-kill rule then they're wrong, because he'd turn a blind eye for once if dick were to brutally stab someone at any moment. why? because batman will not settle until his own child's attackers are thrown into putrid prison cells with no guarantee that they'll see the light of the day. the criminals should be grateful that red hood isn't even in the picture yet.

your father would be more perceptive of your emotions if he had never neglected you. he will always be the one giving you rides, he'll shield you away from the mass media trying to take photographs of you— and you're getting carried throughout the manor if your little body were to even express fatigue.

bruce wayne wouldn't admit it, but he absolutely cherishes you and your youth. he had adopted dick and grayson when they were above the age of ten, when they were already growing some sort of consciousness about the world they live in. but you? you're so small and you have so much to learn, your innocence is something bruce would protect. you'll be absolutely coddled by your father, your grandfather figure, alfred, and your oldest brother, dick. even future members of the family knows just how important you are maintaining their sanity.

that means you have the manor in the palm of your hands. you had a nightmare tonight? don't worry, your dad would always be one step ahead of you and would immediately be in your room. hell, if you were comfortable enough, you'd be sleeping in the same bedroom as your dad for the first few years you'll live inside the manor. he'll read you bedtime stories if you want and even have alfred prepare you warm milk or chocolate before you go to sleep. his entire schedule would also be centered around you, making sure that he would always arrive on time from business meetings to have dinner with you, and coming home early from patrols. if he leaves the manor before you're set off to sleep, then he'll be giving you a good night's kiss whilst alfred would be the one substituting for your nightly bedtime stories.

you may call him overbearing once you start to notice the signs the more you grow older, but your father will always track your sleep schedule - he even makes you wear a watch that records your heart rate - from the moment you drift into dreamland to the times you get nightmares— he makes sure the food you eat before dinner is light, booking appointments with nutritionists to make sure you're healthy. he even does specialized training with you, for self defence and to also maintain a healthy lifestyle.

and dick grayson? his visits to gotham would be more frequent. even if his relationship with bruce is strained, he'll always be in the manor faster than you could say 'i miss you' to your older brother on the phone. he loves coddling his baby bird, especially since you were adopted right after jason's death; dick doesn't want a repeat of the past, always making sure you get proper cuddles and affirmations.

spending time with dick means you get all the power to draw on his arms or face or make arts and crafts with him. he enjoys it when his baby bird is at their comfiest state so even if you were seated on the floor, there would always be cozy blankets that count as your chairs and snacks right beside you. you could ask him to get something for you and he's right at it.

he would be the older brother who normalizes physical affection in the household. dick would constantly kiss your cheeks, your foreheads, and any injuries you would obtain (a habit that even bruce adopted once your dad realized how it's an effective way to soften your cries and ease your heart). he's not afraid of picking you up even! always tossing you to the air under alfred or bruce's supervision whenever you feel down. dick would always hold your hand, too, as an assurance that your beloved older brother is always there for you.

you'd probably ignore all the red flags he carries around because of how early he shows off his signs of obsessiveness. so don't question it if him and bruce wouldn't allow you to go to sleepovers with your other friends or if sometimes, just sometimes dick feels the need to just have you in his arms for hours without end after particularly brutal patrols. you're the only person holding him up and if he doesn't breath in that reminder then he might just lose himself.

your brother would literally prioritize you over anything else. he can and will pick you up from school, he makes sure nobody in your class is there to bully you, he'll spoil you with sweet treats whenever bruce is too busy with business meetings. he wants to be seen as your favorite ever since he's discovered himself to be your idol, so he'll always show off his acrobatic skills for your eyes only.

whenever dick would say "i love you!" it always translates to, "if you want me to, then i will give you the world." which means he'll drop anything he's doing right now the moment you invite him over to design your diaries or sketchbooks.

your talents very early on would be heavily acknowledged by your family. that means any single drawing or craft you'd do, whether poorly done or not, would be stored in very protective places or shows off in every crevice of the manor. any father's day gift from you would be framed in bruce's personal office, a personal reminder to him that you are the light at the end of the brooding tunnel he puts himself in. so even if he can't always be there for you, he will always have you in his mind and in his heart.

your existence in the manor would prove to be a healthier way for bruce to cope, for him to get his mind off of the loss of his second child. whenever he looks at you, he'll always be filled with a determination to protect gotham from any further danger, to save the city - if not himself, then for your sake, for his baby to feel safe whenever they would walk on the streets, for his baby to feel protected whenever you two would eat in fancy restaurants or go shopping for your diary's supplies.

criminals would immediately get the message that messing with you means getting on the bad side of both batman and nightwing. you may be the child of bruce wayne, (name) wayne, but if they even think of kidnapping you for ransom then they should pray; pray because if batman's baby even gets a single nick, a single droplet of blood on their body then they're gone. there's no such thing as holding back if it comes to you.

now, your older sister figure, barbara gordon, despite her constantly being busy because of her role as the oracle, would find ways to at least entertain you whenever you would visit her in the batcave. if you feel like your father's overprotective nature and your older brother's coddling is too much, then she will be offer you solace by her side. she may not always be physically there but you two are as close as you are to the other members of your family because you're a creative one. it's not often barbara gets to spend time with someone like you who enjoys having her as a muse for your art pieces. she allows you to also style her hair, and if you like to design clothing, then she'd be your model for as much as you want.

barbara is also your go-to for when dick and bruce are both unavailable. she lets you watch her hack through multiple security systems, explaining concepts that you don't understand. and, because she's the most emotionally stable out of all of them, you'd prefer gossiping to her about your school's drama compared to dick, as she actually gives you helpful advice!

well, little do you know that she had already hacked your school's camera footage and wired multiple recorders on your bag but you don't have to know that! after all, barbara wants to keep the only sane person in the household safe and happy. she's not openly obsessive towards you, but whatever secrets you have that don't compromise your safety are secrets she promises she will bring to the grave. that means if you ever have a crush on a someone then she will hide it from the others.

... that is until you actually end up trying to get into a relationship too early for even her eyes then she won't hesitate sending out the signals to bruce and the others. she can't afford exposing her younger sibling to heartbreaks and emotional attachment towards strangers! so do forgive her if there are times where you feel like there's someone constantly watching your back, because she is that someone; with all the intentions in the world that you wouldn't have to go through what she did with the joker or any other villains who could whisk you away from their arms.

it's obvious that, of course the oracle will use all the power in her hands to guarantee all eyes are on you, so that there would never be an opening for any danger towards you. even if you do know that she's the one in-control of the strings, there's not much you could do but accept it.

then there's tim drake. your brother who had stalked batman and nightwing just to prove a point. his parents are alive and he's fine being on his own, but fuck it if he prefers being in the wayne manor! once you're introduced to tim, he's immediately researching about the first biological child of bruce wayne. and thank god bruce requires the two of you to become familiar with each other because you're just so interesting to him, you and your curious eyes, your small habits— the way you shift in your position as your father's hands are clasped on your shoulder protectively.

tim can already feel himself blast off in excitement just solving the mysteries about you! yet he doesn't know it in himself that the longer you spend time with him, the more the urge to just stitch himself into your very life grows stronger.

if you were never neglected by your own family then you would instead be analyzed constantly. tim is just another set of eyes constantly watching you, but unlike the others, he picks off every single detail about you to a T.

you, your interests, your hobbies, your favorites, your friends, you name it; he will have an entire collection of case files on everything, picking apart your very mind to the seams. it's like he's eating up the information about you, spending sleepless nights researching about a movie you two would watch soon, because the look of amazement in your eyes feeds the growing love he has for his sibling.

at first he'd never understand why bruce and dick seems so smitten towards you other than the case regarding your mother. but he slowly starts to understand why— because just like him, you're perceptive of his well-being. if dick isn't around then you're always the one hanging around his room, visiting him with snacks in your arms or an invitation to watch a cartoon show.

he likes doing your assignments for you, especially your projects even if he neglects his own duties for his own school. and despite how emotionally constipated or unaware he seems, he's obsessed with your personal life. that means you don't even have to rant to him about school drama or your friends or crush because he can and will know it. what he doesn't like, though, is when your attention is towards anything but him. he may not be the most physically comfortable to cuddle but he will offer you his jackets which he would end up not washing right after you use them, instead he wears them, feeling closer to you than ever.

it even lulls him to sleep for the times you're unable to sleep over at his room.

tim may not know how to comfort you like dick whenever you wake up from nightmares but he does know ways to avoid them; he knows a lot of strategic methods to get you drowsy after a moment's panic.

bonus points if you cuddle him afterwards! he loves the warmth that you emanate, loves it when your body leans against him and makes him feel so important. tim loves it when you snuggle him unknowingly, tightening your already bruising grip on him, he loves reciprocating it too, feeling a special bond with his sibling that not even his parents could offer.

though he doesn't openly tell you that he loves you, he does so in his own ways! you don't want to see an entire photography room dedicated to his younger sibling— most pictures contributed by tim. you don't want to see the terabytes of files that are all about you and your interests, millions of video imagery of just you sketching or writing diary entries, sometimes eating or rambling senselessly. you don't know it but tim loves playing the videos of you in the background, especially the ones where you're humming a tune or singing a lullaby; those are his favorites.

it's not his fault that you're just so interesting to him, that your presence is so comforting, that you're the only person closest to him that has the ability to make him melt into you, unknowingly succumbing to your spoiled wishes.

jason todd comes into the picture later, and he is a very enraged man. he's mad at his replacement, at bruce, at you, at the entire universe.

at first he just doesn't understand anything. he doesn't understand why bruce finds it so easy to not only replace his status as robin but to also bring in another child, who's valued and loved more despite not taking the mantle of robin. he's mad at just how quick he was replaced, how it seems like bruce never avenged him, and yet if he threatens your safety then the old man suddenly turns violent towards him?!

jason wouldn't bring you into the fray, because you're unaware of the entire situation, but fuck, he doesn't understand why you are just so cherished when he'd watch the news and sees your picture plastered all over the reporters' walls, talking about the child who bruce never allowed to separate from his side. they talk about how you're the sheltered one, the hearthrob of all media with just how clingy the billionaire is towards his supposed younger sibling.

he's not jealous, he gets why bruce is protective and smothers himself all over you; but he hates feeling replaced, feeling discarded and forgotten by the very man who'll avenge your death if that ever happened.

hence why he has to see it for himself, has to see you for himself. it's a coincidence, a miracle actually that he just seems to easily find you by the kitchen of the manor— a manor whose aura is now different from last time, it seems like it now reeks of life, of personality. clearly you were the main cause of all of this.

you could simply be reading a book and sipping your nightly tea, but jason would soon realize just how... vulnerable you are at the moment. you find him hiding in the shadows and all you offer is a wide stare with no sense of self defense whatsoever. it's the same vulnerability that he sees off the cruelest streets of gotham. you're exactly like the innocent kids who get brutally murdered without justice, just like the children who have never once gained penance for the torture they had to experience just living off of personality.

jason isn't a dumbass, living near the crime alley means hearing the gossips of every citizen. your name, or preferably your last name is famed even in the underground. your mother is infamous for catching the attention of most crime lords by running off with their cash, successful staying hidden to care for her child, just right until she met her untimely demise. you lost her early just like how he lost his mother early as she had fallen victim to drug overdose.

he'll discover why gotham's vigilante seems to be so protective over you. the way you carry yourself, the warmth you give off as you offer him your leftover dinner despite not

you told him that your dad taught you to never talk to strangers— but clearly he's not because "how else would you be able to trespass the millions of security alarms in the manor? you must've lived here before." you'll state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, sipping your drink before you offer him a seat next to yours, unafraid of the dangers that lie ahead of you—

"you must've really been pampered by the old man, huh?" is all his reply, the voice changer of his makes him sound naturally intimidating, like he's ready to attack but no, that's not his intentions with you. he'll take a seat beside you, try to make out what book you're reading and that's when he knows that you truly have no idea that it's your dead brother who's talking to you. you have no idea of his resurrection whatsoever as you start to mumble off about the novel— he finds it quite amusing that, finally, he's not the only guy who enjoys literature in the family, even going as far as to recommend his own fair share of favorite novels to you.

once he leaves out of the window after a seemingly long session of talking, definitely aware that yes, bruce does have a microchip inserted under your skin, and the watch you're wearing has a voice recorder that sends recordings straight to the batcave's system; jason takes note to visit you more often, finding the normalcy you offer very welcoming.

he likes it, likes your mellow behavior. he'll even admit that you're the only proof that bruce can, in fact, raise a child right, even if that means tracking their entire life. but that's the old man's love language, and jason knows it in himself that he's already planning for a way to take you to ride his motorcycle at night without bruce's knowledge; just so his angel knows the feeling of gotham's breeze flowing through their hair since bruce seems to love dictating your every move.

once he does form a solid plan to take you away, even just temporarily, you don't have to worry about the criminals who litter the streets because jason made sure that nobody's gonna mess with him and his angel's bonding time together.

the youngest, damian wayne, and the second biological child of bruce is a special case. his upbringing as an assassin makes him susceptible to his fits of tantrums. the first time he steps foot into the manor is the same time he will threaten anyone around him; and that includes you, the bastard child. quite frankly, your first greeting with him would be the same as the one in the original storyline, you'll greet him with a tray of sweets in your hand and a small smile and he'll reply with a sword on your neck. but the difference would be the undeniable fact that dick and bruce immediately stopped him from even nicking your delicate skin.

dick's swearing was shut down by alfred's scolding and you, again! pulling on your oldest brother's sleeve with an assurance that you're okay.

that's the very first time he sees his father truly reprimand him with nothing but rage in his eyes. despite damian's annoying antics towards his father the entire day, it seems like you were the snapping point.

his father, bruce wayne, made it very clear that he can mess with anyone and everyone in the family but you. that you have nothing to

his only reply would be a sneer as he demands they take him to his room immediately, unable to shut you down when you offer to help bring his luggage despite bruce's firm unwillingness and dick's hesitant request that his baby bird should instead spend time in his room instead.

but it was always your word above everybody else's and damian hates that, hates that everyone just seems to succumb to your request as long as it doesn't compromise your safety. the bitterness that keeps resurfacing in his heart whenever he sees you wearing tim or dick's jacket, or if he caught sight of bruce giving you affection was a feeling he tried to convince himself wasn't jealousy.

not jealousy towards you, no, but towards them. your behavior towards him was nothing but kind, a kindness that was taught to him as weakness. he thinks you're weak and undeserving of being spoiled and yet he hates it whenever he sees his blood sibling (whom he called a bastard child so many times) become too close with anyone but him.

he hates it, he hates you and his conflicting feelings. he hates it when he pushes you away, hates it when he sees you pout after another failed attempt at trying to have your youngest sibling talk to you.

and as the days or even weeks pass by, with all your effort to try to bond with him, with the days where he can feel dick's energy drain because you insisted on spending time with damian instead of dick again, with tim's intolerable treatment towards the him because you chose to bother damian instead of that loser— are the days he feels himself actually becoming closer to you because he relishes in your insufferable behavior towards them, because you just seem so sweet to him.

damian feels that it's right that you make him the exception.

so it's inevitable that damian will eventually discover both your talents towards art and the love for nature. it's a mistake, really, when one day as he stalks through the hallways he'd find you in your own atelier, painting a portrait of a robin with a color scheme that matches his vigilante suit. the beams of sunlight seems to hit you just right because you looked so at peace with your surroundings, humming a tune, unaware of your youngest brother who has found himself at your most natural state.

he'll budge in without moment's hesitation afterwards, steering clear behind you as he analyzes your art. it would only be after a few minutes would he announce his presence in the room, expecting you to scream at him to buzz off but all you did was jump in your seat, looking back to eye the intruder only to find out it was damian all along, offering him a smile and a seat beside you.

after he does so, you'll both end up spending the entire day bombarding each other with art tips and animal facts. he'll give you comments about the bird's proportions and you give him guidelines on how to properly mix your colors without it looking muddled. it's like you two are meant to be siblings because damian swears he ended up clinging to your side after your painting session, refusing to even seat beside anyone during dinner time if it isn't you because he's not done rambling about the rainbow eucalyptus you had told him you'd seen in a nature documentary once— so it's rightfully his place to be beside you and not drake's or grayson's or even his father.

eventually you two would be as close as peas in a pod because you're seemingly the only one who knows how to calm him down, the only one with the right to raise your voice at him and to ask him of favors because you're his blood sibling. and because you both share the same blood, that means you both should share clothes that complement each other, share snacks and treats, share matching bracelets and necklaces and any jewelry, you're the only one allowed to hang around his room and him in yours.

the others find it annoying that you let him be, but what choice do they have? unless they would like to hear an earful from damian then they should stay silent because you both aren't done painting each other's nails yet!

stephanie brown is shortly introduced to you after her incessant insistence on meeting you right after stepping foot into the manor. she knows of your internet fame for being the beloved bruce wayne's 'favorite' child and she's not afraid to admit that you are indeed adorable in person! unlike your first meeting with damian, steph would immediately coddle you at first glance, insisting you call her by 'steph' and that

due to the short period of time as her robin and her being constantly reprimanded for her antics, you'd take it in yourself to become closer with her, and she accepts your offer without any complaints. she's also one of your muses for your art and it's a good thing she has a sense of style unlike your brothers who are either too flashy (you had to stifle a laughter looking at the discowing costume) or too dull. damian's fashion sense is good but he's often out during the time period you spend with steph, and even if she often doesn't stay still, you at least hsve someone to talk your ears off whilst you try to sketch the poses she chose.

her obsession towards you stems from your willingness to "match her freak" or whatever internet lingo she finds that day, but she's a fun company to be around! she's always there for you when you need to rant about anything regarding your feelings, especially since you're at the age where you're a teenager and your emotions towards your family would be all over the place and she'd relate the most towards that.

so other than barbara, you'll find yourself speaking up about any concerns you have to steph, and she turns your 'favoritism' towards her her entire personality.

but if you think of even spilling your secrets about a highschool crush to steph or news that someone had asked you out for prom them then spoiler alert! don't. like her mentor, steph will drop signs and clues and your brothers would promptly deal with that. awe, don't worry about feeling alone though or if you weren't permitted to go to your highschool prom because steph and babs will be the ones to convince bruce to throw you your own very elegant gala where you would dance with only your siblings!

see, isn't she so strategic that way? psht, you don't need a boy or a girl acting as your temporary reprieve when your entire family is there for you! steph is here for you and you did technically promise to go out with her today to go shopping so...

it's not that she isn't on your side, no! but you're very much the entire family's baby and she doesn't want you losing your attention on her, definitely not! her goofy personality towards you really does cover her intense urge to be by your side really well. unlike damian, it's not obvious that she's trying so hard to monopolize your time for herself but you're just so fun to be around and she's at her best behavior when it comes to you.

so what's wrong if she ditches her other friends to bond with her beloved sibling? it's not like they'd understand what it's like having someone who actually looks at her for her rather than just the surface level.

don't question why most of the gifts she had given you (which ranges from attires like jackets and shles, to matching bracelets, even little fidget toys) all don a shade of purple and blue! and don't also question why her gallery is filled with cute selfies of you and why your phone's lock screen wallpaper is now suddenly matching with hers.

after all, steph likes making it known that you are her favorite!

cassandra cain, when she first saw you, is, of course, silent. but she makes her presence known quickly after she has enough proof that you've no fight in your body. she may not be the most expressive in words but she is through actions.

you were actually the one who had first approached her after bruce initially introduced you two to each other, offering her a handshake and a greeting in sign language. albeit it being crusty, and her insisting that it's alright if you do the talking, it seems like you were more than willing to learn sign language just for the sake of your new sister and she likes it.

she really, really likes it, appreciates how there were no signs of malice in your movements and just how comfortable you seemed with someone who could potentially end your life with just a snap of her fingers. and yet you treat her like she's not a weapon of murder but rather another sibling who is welcomed into your own world.

you ask her if she wants to hang out with you and steph in your own personal sleepover inside your room and she accepts it because of just how comforting your presence is. it's been so long since she had last felt like she was treated as a human and you were proof that she's glad she never took the path to human carnage like her father intended her to because then she wouldn't meet someone who would soon be so precious to her.

cass may not talk a lot but she is a listener.

a listener to both your words and your body language. it's quicker for her to notice if you ever needed a hug or a catalyst for comfort. she knows your boundaries and when you need space the most. she knows it when you want to open up to her about how stuffy the manor is beginning to feel, how it feels as if they're becoming more sensitive about your social life, how you wish your friends aren't distancing themselves from you because of how intimidating your family is.

and you can say all that to her because cass, alongside duke and sometimes steph, would be the only ones keeping your deepest darkest desires to their grave. although she may not understand your reasonings on why you even felt like your family is coddling you too much (because they're not! they love you very much and she does too) in the first place, she's always the one offering you to hold her hands whenever you're going through a momentary panic attack or a shoulder to lean on whenever dick would scold you for something impulsive you've done.

unlike your neglected counterpart, cass would always be by your shadows, watching every one of your moves and to abide by bruce's order to make sure you wouldn't escape, shall you ever feel rebellious during your teenage years. you may be older than her but she's stronger than you, more experienced and can even combat your dad if she wants to.

yet she always seems to let her guard down when it comes to you because you just seem to have that alluring effect on everybody. can't you understand just how important you are to everybody? you're the most important to her, you're one of the first few people who had treated her like a human so she swears on her life to protect you from harm's way like you did her whenever she's often in a pit of despair.

cass isn't the most expressive, so she makes up for it by instead leaving signs that she really cares for you, or sometimes hiding little trinkets for you to find in your room. it's like her very own message that translates 'cass was here'.

whenever you sit beside her at the dinner table, she always slips in extra food by your plate without you looking or sometimes even filling your glass bottles with extra juice and you'll never know why until you realize that it's her way of telling you to eat more. sometimes, your clothes would go missing until you see your sisters wearing your own collection of jackets and hoodies then swapping them in your drawers for their own— you'd realize that cass got that idea from steph and you can't get mad at her or anybody else as it soon becomes tradition that you'll have an entire closet dedicating to the missing clothes you have that your siblings have replaced to their own attire.

cass really does love you and although she can't always say it out loud, you'll always have a constant reminder instead. as long as you're safe and sound then you don't have to witness the darker sides of her that she hides from you.

then finally, duke thomas. he may have been introduced to you the latest but you could say in terms of every trait, he'd be the brother you'd like to keep close for every situation. your first meeting with him is quite frankly the most normal one of them all, introducing yourself to duke through dinner. although he may be temporarily under bruce's guardianship over anything else, he's incredibly comforting to be around as he's quick to catch on your emotions but unlike the others, he doesn't push you to open up to him, but he won't leave your side at all either.

duke is the only metahuman you're probably allowed to be close with because your dad absolutely refuses you from even trying to talk with the superfamily. and duke heavily prides himself with that information, often secretly showing you his metahuman skills and answering whatever questions you have about them.

like jason, duke wouldn't fully delude himself into thinking you're innocent, that you need to be babied to the point they feel the urge to track even the food you eat— so he's your reliable source for any video games you were forbidden to play or any movies dick would consider too gruesome for you. he's chill, he even sneaks you unhealthy chips once in a while which makes him automatically one of the top in your tier list.

but don't think he's entirely on your side, because whilst duke seems the most normal to you - the only sibling who wouldn't smother you in blankets the moment you accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife - he's also batshit crazy for his own sibling and he'll sacrifice a lot for you two. so if you even dare try to suggest an idea that duke knows would risk not only him, but especially you, then that idea automatically is relayed to your dad and you wouldn't really want your father's gentle scolding anymore.

you can try to find a loophole to go out with him though! if you want to eat batburgers outside then you can do so when he's at his patrol, seeing as how he's the only batkid who does daytime patrol and that's way safer than eating at night, no?

so do expect spending more time with him the most outside, other than with dick and damian, but you'll be forced to sit in the sidelines where nobody can lay their hands on you whilst duke would be busy fighting crime and afterwards treating you to ice cream like he didn't just 'accidentally' and brutally body slammed a criminal into the wall for giving you heart eyes.

'most normal member of the family, my ass' would be the first thing that pops into your mind, but hey! at least you didn't have to be always locked up into the stuffy manor, right...?

at least you get to spend time with all of your siblings and a very loving and attentive father..!

little did you know that the only reason they allowed you out is to give you this false sense of independence, slowly but surely planning for the ultimate day where they truly would lock you up away from the world.

but they just can't help it, you know? the media's greedy hands are starting to take more than they could; so many eyes are on you and danger awaits at every corner in gotham— they can't afford having their beloved being pried away from their arms.

so is it truly a blessing or a curse in disguise? you don't know anymore.

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

(pt 2)

[ssahotchnerr]

need me some domestic aaron where maybe reader hasn’t moved in yet with him but he keeps all her favorite food / necessities stocked up for when she comes around 🥹

your favorite

god please i need an aaron cw; mentions of food

friday nights were notorious for movie nights.

it was the perfect way to unwind after a busy work week, and to kick off the weekend. you would find yourself at aaron's apartment, snuggled with him and jack on the couch, surrounded by blankets into the night. jack especially loved the 'no-set bedtime' rule on these particular occasions- you'd never forget the look of shock and joy on his face when aaron first introduced it.

currently, jack had been really into star wars, and so the three of you were slowly yet surely making your way through the saga.

and with movie nights, of course came the snacks.

tonight, you had come from work directly to the apartment, meaning you hadn't stopped at home. and while aaron would offer you some of his clothes to lounge in, it meant you hadn't been able to retrieve your favorite snacks from your pantry. you could've stopped at the store on the way, sure, but you were too eager to see your boys and quickly dismissed the idea.

it was the easiest sacrifice to make if it granted you more time with the pair of them, after all.

"i'll be right back."

about halfway through the movie, you threw back your end of the blanket to allow yourself to get up, tossing it gently overtop jack who had been sandwiched between you and aaron. his muffled laughter followed you as you scrambled off the couch, as well as the sound of droids firing away coming to a stop as aaron paused the movie momentarily.

you had originally been in search of another drink- the popcorn had been generous on the salty side tonight- when you noticed your usual snack of choice laying on the counter. it was a variety bag, the contents containing a combination of pretzels, sun chips, cheetos, chex-mix.

"c'mon, we're waiting." aaron teased as he entered the kitchen soon after you, grabbing a juice box from the fridge for jack.

you turned to face him, evidently about to voice something. and when you hadn't, he arched an eyebrow in question, prompting you to approach the bench.

"you have my favorite snack mix?"

"yes...?" he answered hesitantly, as if it were obvious, but also as if he didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing.

you blinked in surprise, warmth flooding through your body. “you didn't need to do that.” your voice fell on the softer side, an endearing tone.

"of course i did, they're your favorite." aaron answered easily as he approached, giving your cheek a chaste kiss in the process. "it's been in the cabinet for a while. i pulled it out earlier when i noticed you hadn't brought any."

you stared at him in astonishment. "really?"

just when you thought he couldn't get more perfect.

"yeah." aaron nodded his head, a sweet boyish grin painted on his face. his arms securely wrapped around your waist, pulling your front flush to his. "i want you to feel at home here."

you smiled up at him, lifting up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. “i appreciate it. and you. so much, i don't think you understand."

aaron returned the favor, but prolonged the kiss for a few seconds more. "anything and everything for you."

you couldn't help but kiss him again, as it was all too easy to get lost and melt into him.

the perfect man, truly.

the two of you could've stayed there forever. especially when aaron backed you up against the counter, each of you being completely consumed by the other. but jack's voice echoed from the living room, calling for the two of you to 'hurry up!'

with a small, yet still satisfied sigh, aaron forced himself to pull away, while you pouted slightly at the loss. but to quickly make up for it, he grabbed ahold of your hand. "c'mon, time to go save the galaxy."

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine the red hair pirates helping you with your depression

Unfortunately, it's that time of year when seasonal depression, and regular depression team up and beat my ass. So new content will come slower than usual, and I'm sorry about that, but appreciate your patience and understanding.

Shanks: *enters your room* are you gonna get up anytime soon.

You: *in a cocoon of blankets* I don't want to.

Shanks: *stares at you for a minute* are you okay?

You: no

Shanks: should I get Hongo?

You: there's nothing he can do for me.

Shanks: *thinks back to Roger's illness* ... What sort of illness do you have exactly?

You: depression,

Shanks: oh... Well staying in bed isn't going to help

You: I don't have the energy to get out of bed

Shanks: then let me do it for you, *scoops up your cocoon and carries you outside* sun light ought to do you a lotta good.

Hongo: what's going on?

Shank: they're depressed.

Hongo: oh, I have just the thing for that *goes into his office*

Benn: hmm, I suffered from depression as a young man.

You: back in the Stone Age?

Benn: *playfully rolls his eyes* yes, back in the Stone Age. My life kind of fell apart because I couldn't care for myself. I could not wash my clothes, or bath, or brush my teeth.

Shanks: that explains the state of their room then.

Benn: elaborate

Shanks: their laundry bin was overflowing, trash on the floor, and the whole room was dark and smelt bad.

Benn: ... Cleaning it would probably help them recover.

Shanks: would you go evaluate the room and see what needs to be done.

Benn: we're probably gonna have to clean it top to bottom, I will go get some volunteers.

Hongo: *comes back* no I need you to eat these supplements, and this mushroom.

Benn: how come they get to have some of your hallucinogens.

Hongo: multiple studies have shown they're very effective at treating depression long term and because they're mine, and I get to decide who to give them to.

Shanks: *pulls open your cocoon, and hands you a cup of water.*

While you are tripping

The crew: * cleans your room, does your laundry, and puts said laundry away*

Hongo: I think the main cause is seasonal depression, they were fine a month ago when the light was at its fullest.

Shanks: hmm, would installing another window in their room help?

Hongo: probably.

Shanks: okay, while the shipwright does that, (y/n) can stay in my room.

Benn: you just wanna fuck them.

Shanks: A few orgasms would probably do them some good. Plus I can help them better if they're close to me.

Hongo: he's right, but you need to make sure you're not taking advantage of them.

Lucky Roux: we also need to make sure they're eating, I noticed a while ago that they're only having one meal a day.

You: eating is inconvenient, and having a corporeal body is like being stuck with a pet you don't want.

Shanks: *pulls your head into his lap and strokes your hair and shushes you* sh sh sh, I know darling, I know.

Hongo: we should also make sure they exercise more, in fact we all should.

Benn: we can take up daily training practice.

Shanks: totally

You: I dun wanna

Benn: well I expect you to at least try it out for a week, if it doesn't help then you can quit.

You: really?

Benn: no

You: aww

Benn: we'll find a nice activity you like, or don't mind.

You: ugh fine

Shanks: thank you

You: ... You have pretty eyes, kinda like storm clouds

Shanks: we should get you high more often.

You: do we have any music snails?

Shanks: *pulls out his collection of Uta's music* Yes we do.

List of Up-and-coming works || Masterlist || Twitter

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.2

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Summary: Reader gives friendships a try, and the first signs of Daryl changing start showing after unexpected tragedy.

Notes: I love writing Merle and early season Daryl, I hope they're in character!

"I'm ten seconds away from blowing his goddamn brains out."

"Not worth the wasted bullets." Daryl watched as Shane stalked back up towards the Greene house. You scoffed and rolled your eyes when you saw him stopping himself from slamming the door, at least needing to respect Hershel gave him some restraint from being a complete piece of shit. You weren't sure how long that would last though.

"Can't fucking stand these people Daryl. He looked like he wanted to kill me."

"Ya called 'em a homewrecker. The hell'd you expect?"

The days would go by without pause, no matter how you all screamed and cried for just one minute, one minute to get it together and breathe. Everything was constantly changing, and it ended up making you colder. 

The Greene farm was a nice place. You enjoyed the chores you took on there, you got to work with the horses, the cows, and the old barn cat. He'd end up passing away after a while, which would have really upset you if it hadn't been such a peaceful death, he just fell asleep with a stomach full of deer stew and never woke up. 

Andrea's strange half admiration and half disturbed likeness to you strengthened at the time on the farm, which you didn't know how to handle. You'd always wanted a girlfriend, ever since your first one in 6th grade ended your friendship. Your mother had shown up to pick you up from school, so high on Percocet she could barely keep her eyes open. She rear-ended the father of your friend, he got pissed, she spit in his face, and he called the police. ‘My daddy says I can't hang out with trailer trash like you anymore.’ She'd told you the next day. 

You secretly liked the way Andrea looked up to you. It was nice having a woman think highly of you, or any adult for that matter. She would often ask for shooting practice, and you even let her try out your bow a few times. 

She kind of fucked up your budding friendship when she shot Daryl. If you hadn't been so busy helping him get up into the house you would have shot her in her foot, and that's not an exaggeration. You wanted to stay up in that room with him until he fully healed, willing to sleep on the floor just so you'd be with him at all times, but the insecure fear of being seen as weak and clingy prevented you from doing so. You were out in the woods most of those days, hunting or killing any dead you ran across.

It was almost humiliating the way people would update you on Daryl’s condition. At first it was just Rick letting you know he’d be okay, but then it was Maggie and Hershel updating you on his eating habits, how much he ate, when he ate, he was only in bed for a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. Each time someone would tell you the miniscule details of his day you’d respond the same way, ‘Why’re you telling me? I’m not his mamma’. If you could look past the embarrassment of feeling like a worried child, you would be grateful. 

Andrea unknowingly made it up to you when you heard her bitching at Lori in the kitchen once, apparently having enough of her ‘a woman's place is in the kitchen making life worth living, leave the guns to the men' spiel. You complimented her afterwards. 

“Been real sick of that shit.” You had said as you loaded your Ruger pistol. “She's lucky it was you who said it, I think I would've punched that bitch in the face if she said that bullshit to me.”

Andrea was almost too stressed over the Beth situation to fully appreciate the gravity of your praise. She nodded as she looked over the field, eyes squinting against the bright afternoon sun, her arms crossed over her chest. “All my life I've heard that kind of thinking from men. It's different when it's a woman telling you that you're not worth the same as a man. Especially when said man lied about her husband being dead and got in her pants right after.” 

You smirked, stuffing your gun into the back of your jeans as you looked her over. “Wanna go kill some dead people?” 

“Oh, god.” She groaned dramatically. “That's the best idea I've heard all week.”

After you lost the farm, you wound up at an old prison. That was one of the rare times you had allowed yourself to try and be positive, and forced yourself to make friends, although it was obvious all your relationships were strained. Andrea was the only person who had ever made an effort to get to know you, and she was gone. 

Shane’s death didn’t affect you much, truthfully you were glad Rick killed him. The constant tension and heated arguments drained you just as much as Dale’s annoying humanitarianism. You attempted being friends with Lori, Hershel, Carol and Beth, despite the young girl being your polar opposite. She was soft, pretty, sweet and bubbly, you were hard, mean, vulgar and distant. 

Which might be one of the reasons your relationship with her had started to work. Beth saw you as a challenge, like a mean feral cat, and deep down you saw her as a possible redemption. If you could become friends with Beth, the sweetest girl with the kindest heart, you could do it with anyone. 

Lori never trusted you, so you never got far with her. She would look at you with this look on her face, like you were always seconds away from cutting her baby out of her stomach or some twisted shit. You had cursed her out once for said expressions, calling her a stuck-up bitch who thinks every woman that isn't her is beneath her. She died a couple days later, and a part of you that you couldn't push away felt like shit about it, for a very long time.

The whole Governor shit was a pain in your ass. But it was a blessing in disguise, because he was the reason you were reunited with Merle. 

“I want to come.” You stood your ground, grabbing your Ruger AR-15 from its spot on your cell wall. 

“I said no, we’ve got enough concerns, we don't need to be worrying about you.” Rick tried to speak in a hushed tone, his intentions good, not wanting you to feel embarrassed if the others heard you being denied. They knew you seethed at the prospect of being told what to do. You didn't work well with others, that was glaringly obvious.

“I don’t need you to worry about me.” You hissed, tugging the heavy gun over your back so the strap dug into your shoulder. 

Rick repeated your name, using his angry father tone, and that seemed to work. Your shoulders drooped and you growled out a few insults under your breath. You missed when the group members had more say in the way things were. Rick had become more authoritarian after Lori died, and it never affected you until that day. 

When they got back you were waiting at the door, pacing like a mother in those movies whose children had stayed out too late. Your eyes brightened as they filed into the prison, you saw Maggie and Glenn were back, and Michonne had returned as well. 

Your anxious smile slowly faded as the door closed behind them, counting two missing bodies. 

“Where…?” You breathed, looking between Rick and Maggie, your heart racing. 

Rick started having a goddamn mental breakdown after that, screaming at the walls and pointing his gun at things only visible to him. Tyrese, the newcomer, and his group fled, and a part of you considered it as well. If Daryl and Merle were dead, you had no reason to stay. Especially not with Rick behaving like a fucking maniac and no one speaking to you. 

True to your nature, you abandoned the prison in search of the Dixons. You knew they couldn’t have truly left, they would never do that, they'd never leave and forget you. Especially Daryl. He had promised to you one night after you fully secured the prison, that he was the one thing in your life that would never change. He’d never die, he’d never leave, he would always be there. Not in those exact words, of course, but in his own way.

He had stayed true to his promise. You found the two of them on their way to the prison, traveling through the same trails you’d originally used to find the place. 

“Thought I’d never see you two assholes again.” The apocalypse had made you more skilled at hiding your true emotions. You came off as playfully irritated, a contrast to the way you were barely keeping tears at bay. 

“Awww,” Merle teased in a condescending tone, faking a pout, “You miss us?”

“No. Rick’s group makes you seem like a peach though.” 

“Our group.” Daryl’s voice had taken on a strange edge as he walked ahead of you down the trail. “Those are our people now.”

You glanced at Merle to see he was outwardly displaying your same reaction, rolling his eyes and silently mimicking his brother's words. 

No matter how happy you were to see the two of them, Daryl’s reply echoed in your head for a long time. He meant what he said, you could tell by the way he spoke. He was changing, you hadn’t noticed it until that day, he wasn’t the same Daryl from Atlanta, the Daryl you knew. You swallowed your retort and followed him back to the prison. 

The Governor shit was really a pain in your ass after that day, making your earlier experiences a walk in the park. Through the tense days you found yourself around Merle more, the two of you discussing the prospect of just getting the fuck out of there in hushed voices, despite you both knowing Daryl would never abandon Ricks group. It was like he had some sort of unknown obligation to them, something you couldn't decode for the life of you, no matter how hard you tried.

“You're gettin’ real close to bein’ a bonafide pussy, boy.” Merle had said one day, shoving his finger in Daryl’s face. You stayed silent as they argued, biting at the soft skin inside your cheek. 

“Why? Cause I ain't jus’ lookin’ out for myself no more? Cause I actually give a shit about these people?” Daryl standing up to Merle wasn’t a familiar sight, and it made you feel emotions you really weren’t comfortable with. 

“It’s making you weak, brother.” Merle urged, nearly slicing his own scalp when he went to put his hands on his head, the heat of the moment causing him to forget his right hand was now a weapon. “Can't you see it? I ain’t gonna let you die for these sheep.”

Daryl would soon come to regret his last interaction with his brother. You, on the other hand, were lucky enough to have had some peaceful final moments with him before he vanished. 

“Dude, that's my fucking bed!” You shoved Merle away from your mattress, groaning when you saw it shredded and ruined. You’d have to go to the other cellblock and get another, if he hadn’t already paid those cells a visit. 

Merle sat on the floor breathing heavily through his mouth, resting an arm over his propped up knee.

“The hell you do that for?” You grumbled, kicking a chunk of bedding out of your cell and into the hallway. 

“Hopin’ to find some contraband.” 

“Dude, you could’ve just asked me. Holy shit.” You grabbed one of your bags from the corner of your room and began to dig through it, finally pulling out Merle’s old stash bag. HIs eyes lit up and he practically jumped for joy, snatching it out of your hands.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He grabbed your face with his hand and noisily kissed your cheek, making you groan and shove him off. “Oh sweetheart. Whooo! Daryl know about this?”

“No, didn’t want him to know. I’m better at making shit last than him.” You replied. Daryl didn't like drugs the way Merle did, he had his run in with meth and its consequences and he was strong enough to quit and not touch it again. Other drugs were a different story though, you suspected the speed and painkillers would be gone by now if he had known you were the one who stole it.

He fished out the group of smaller baggies he was looking for, full of various shades of white in different textures. He groaned like he just creamed his pants and leaned over, planting another dramatic smooch to your forehead.

You stayed with him on the floor of your cell as he got high, and eventually he left to go ‘clear out the walkers in the tombs’, something you were happy to sit out on. He told you to stay back and you laughed, teasing with a ‘it's all yours, tweaker’. 

Even though your last moments with him were pleasant, you never forgave yourself for not accompanying him. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

[solaris-amethyst]

💫Ice Cream?💫

✨Pairing: non idol!Hongjoong x gn!reader ✨Prompt: The two of you get stuck in the elevator together ✨Word Count: 1.1k ✨Genre: fluff, you're partners, stuck in an elevator ☀️Authors Note: I'm trying to become better at writing people flirting and being cute together and idk if I managed or not😅 What is your thoughts on this oneshot?💓

"Well shit..." Hongjoong uttered staring at the little screen that now was stuck between the number 4 and 5.

"Yeah you could say that again... Did the elevator seriously break right now?" You muttered irritatedly.

The two of you had been out shopping for a nice evening inside watching a new tv series you had started together and eat delicious food.

Hongjoong squeezed your hand, trying to calm down his own nerves at the thought of being stuck in an elevator. You made the call to press the emergency button and let it ring until someone down at the reception finally answered.

"Hello? What seems to be the problem?" The man down at the reception asked.

"Me and Hongjoong are stuck in the elevator, we're between floor 4 and 5. Do you think you could call someone to come fix this and get us out of here?" You questioned and you could hear the person picking up another phone and making the call to the janitors office. After a while the receptionist came back to you and Hongjoong.

"I've spoken to the janitors and they will be here in about 20 to 25 minutes. They're at another complex right now fixing a leak. They're almost done and will get here as soon as they can. Try not to panic and just stay calm until then okay?"

With that the call ended and your boyfriend let out a loud groan when he realized how long the two of you had to wait for the janitors to come.

"It's gonna be fine Joongie, it's not that long I promise! Then we will be back in our apartment, in our cozy sofa with our food and snacks and tv serie." You tried cheering him up by bringing his hand up to your lips giving it a small kiss.

"I know but now my surprise for you is ruined." He whines complaining looking like a kicked puppy with his big sad eyes and pouty mouth.

"Surprise?" You questioned raising an eyebrow at him

"Yeah I had gotten a surprise for you." He sighs and instructs you to close your eyes stating that he cannot allow it to be ruined.

Hongjoong rummaged around until he found the two ice creams he had bought without your knowledge earlier. The two of you had seen them earlier last week and both had wanted to try them someday and he had hoped that today would be the perfect day to end it with eating some ice cream.

He opened your ice cream first and made sure you had a steady grip on it before opening his own.

"You can open your eyes now love." He said and his smile grew as you opened them and saw the ice cream of your choice.

"You got us ice creams!! Hongjoong!!" You couldn't believe he managed to buy them without you noticing it. You were beaming at him, elated he had bought just the flavor you had wanted to try after skimming through all of the flavors the first time you saw all of the ice creams.

"I wanted it to be a surprise for after dinner but I guess it will be a before dinner surprise." He said as he bumped his own ice cream against yours.

"Cheers!"

"Cheers!" You chuckle mirroring his action before taking a small bite out of the ice cream.

"Oh wow this is really good!" You say with wide eyes and your boyfriend just shrugs

"I think I can do better." He admits before holding his ice cream towards you with a motion asking if you wanted to try his which you do, leaning forward to take a little bite, humming in appreciation.

"Yours were great as well! And what you think you can make better ice cream than this?" You question as he tries yours, humming in delight as well.

"Well yeah, it can't be that hard to make good ice cream. Just tell me which flavors you want and I'll make it for you." He says with that slight cocky smirk on his face.

"Is this some sort of challenge towards me or do you just want my attention?" You question wondering if this was his way of saying he wants to spend more time with you doing silly stuff.

"Maybe."

"Okay then how about you make me a good blueberry ice cream and also another one which has the flavor of a mango?" You tell him.

Hongjoong nods as he finishes his ice cream, putting the stick in the bag for now. He takes some step forward so he's close. You look at him as you finish your own ice cream, no matter how many times you see him his beauty never fails to stun you.

Especially his eyes, they're always so kind and filled with so much love each time he looks at you that it almost takes your breath away.

"May I kiss you?" He asks shyly.

You nod towards him, that's another part of him that you absolutely love. He always asks if it's okay for him to kiss you before he does.

He leans in capturing your lips in a heated kiss pushing you back towards the wall of the elevator. Your arms sneak around his shoulders as the two of you enjoy the silence and the intimacy of said kiss.

After a while the two of you ended the kiss, Hongjoong resting his forehead against yours, his eyes looking at you with so much love.

"You're so beautiful you know that right? The love of my life, my inspiration, my muse." He whispered lovingly causing you to break eye contact with him for a second.

"You really have your way with words Joongie. I really adore you so much, I wish I could show that more."

"You already do my love, you showcase your love when you bake me cookies when I'm overwhelmed, you show that when you read me stories when I need to unwind after a long day at the studio, you show that when you open your arms and let me sink into your warm embrace and allowing me to be vulnerable when I need without making me feel small. You make me feel loved." He whispered quietly to you.

"You really mean that?"

"I do, every single word."

The two of you ended up sitting down cuddling together on the elevator, sharing short but blissful kisses whilst sharing sweet and loving comments towards each other. Hongjoong continued to shower you with love and you did your best to reciprocate his wonderful comments, wanting him to truly understand how much he means to you.

Eventually the two of you could hear the janitors outside working on opening the doors to get the two of you out.

"It is finally time for us to get out of this entrapment and have our cozy evening my muse." Joong said as he helped you up from your sitting position.

"Finally, I cannot wait to cuddle you whilst watching our series together."

You gave him a quick kiss before the doors opened for the two of you to get out.

[hermetiqa]

What advice do you need for your current situation?

Daily Message: 21.08.24

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS | TIP JAR | FEEDBACK | MASTERLIST

I'm offering my paid readings so I can save some money for my tuition fees this year, as well as for my checkups (for health problems). Any tips in my Ko-fi would be a huge help for me and would be highly appreciated.

Pile 1

I'm getting some student energy from you here, Pile 1. It's either you're a graduating student or you already graduated. You're thinking and planning to move out of your house/parents' house with someone here, I'm hearing a friend or someone you're in a relationship with. You're planning to move out with them and rent a place together, specifically an apartment. You've been thinking about this a lot and you're willing to take the risk on this one. But I'm getting that you should be patient with this and don't rush it. I'm hearing that you want to start anew here because you might have some bad relationship with your parents and family, and you will, just take things slow and don't act on impulse. Ask for some help from people who were in the same situation as you and now they're happy and stable with their own lives. Make them your inspiration.

Pile 2

So you're thinking of walking away from your relationship. You might have had some conflicts or arguments and for you, it's not working out anymore. This person might be apologizing to you now but you chose to take a break for a while, have a cool off, and reassess the relationship. I can see that you're reassessing this relationship and you're thinking that maybe it really just won't work out, but you still might be hopeful about this. You're trying to heal from all the pain that this person had caused you in this relationship. And now, after reassessing for a while, you're thinking that perhaps it's best if you break up with them. And I'm getting that yes, it is. It's starting to get toxic and unhealthy, it's not good for your well-being. So it's time to start anew on your own. You don't need them in your life anyway. You might still be in some kind of in denial stage, you might be trying to convince yourself that this will still work out, but it won't anymore. You took some break from this relationship to see things clearly, and now you shouldn't gaslight yourself for something that will not happen. Take some time to look back in your life without this person and think how happy you were without them. Go on, start anew without them and heal yourself from what you've been through in this relationship. Don't let this person manipulate you and convince you to give them another chance and they say that they'll change because with all the chances you had given them, they didn't change. This time won't be any different.

Pile 3

You're anxious about the school year coming up. It's so near and this is making you anxious. You might be a transferee student and you're scared that you might not do well in your new school/university, perhaps you're a freshman. Either way, I'm getting that you need to do some advance study now. Set your hobbies aside for a while and include studying in your daily schedule and routine. You're scared that the teachers/professors won't recognize your efforts this year and you need to protect yourself from this feeling. Don't let this fear take over and control the way you manage your day-to-day life. Don't let it hold you back from actually improving and doing your best because you're thinking that it might not be enough. You've already went through a lot here, especially when it comes to your studies, you already learned a lot and you're even done with all the school drama. Now, it's time to get yourself and your life together, welcome this school year with passion and be interested in what you have to learn this year.

[talkfantasytome]

Glasses

A teeny, tiny drabble so that I could participate and do something for @nestaarcheronweek despite my crazy, hectic life. I've always imagined that Nesta wears glasses for work or reading or something, and that it drives Cassian absolutely nuts. I wish I had more time to make this more, maybe some day, but for now, I give you Cassian appreciating Nesta in glasses. 💕

Am I still good to swing by to bring your key back?

Yep! Working from home and have no more meetings today. Come by whenever you want, no need to knock.

Cassian smiled at the words flashing across his screen as he reached the windowed door that revealed the doors to the two apartments in Nesta's converted townhouse. Nesta had already told him twice that he could come by any time after noon today, but he let his nerves get the better of him and he had to check just one last time. Even if he was already on her street.

"How are you already here?" the silky sharp voice of his girlfriend asked, carrying easily down the stairs as he opened the door to her apartment.

Cassian chuckled, closing the door and locking it behind him. "Couldn't get to you fast enough, sweetheart," he called up as he began to climb. It was a steep staircase. And dark. He hated it. Nesta could really hurt herself on it, and that was something he wouldn't be able to handle. Cassian dreaded the day he got a call telling him she'd fallen down these damn stairs.

Reaching the main floor, he set the keys down on the tall table in front of him just as a large, cream furball let out a loud hiss.

"Even after feeding you for a week, you still hate me?" he muttered, bending down to see if Ataraxia would sniff at his fingers. The furry little beast lifted his nose up and sauntered away from Cassian like a little prince. "Your cat is a spoiled brat," he said, walking down the small hall toward where he knew Nesta would be working in her large living room.

"As he should be," she replied.

Cassian walked into the room and suddenly the world felt lighter as he laid his eyes on his girlfriend for the first time in a week. Staring intently at the computer screens in front of her, all he could really see was her delicate frame and the golden brown hair tied back in her typical coronet style.

He took a step toward her, going to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, and then paused in his tracks as Nesta turned in her chair to look at him.

There, resting on top of her perfect nose, was a pair of rounded-square glasses in a dark frame. They weren't exactly hipster glasses - too small for that - but they were a similar shape that sat perfectly in Nesta's face.

Nesta was always the most beautiful woman in the room, always sharp and stunning and obviously intelligent. So Casssian wasn't sure exactly what it was about these glasses, but they took his breath away. Perhaps he was more attracted to librarians than he realized. Or maybe it was just Nesta, looking absolutely stunning in everything, and adding new fantasies about glasses Cassian never thought he'd desire.

"Wh…what are those?" he asked like an idiot, pointing to her face.

Nesta let out a small laugh. "My glasses? I wear them for work. They're just blue-light lenses, they keep me from getting a headache when staring at a screen for a long time."

"They're-"

"A necessary nuisance."

"-phenomenal." Nesta blushed at Cassian's last word, turning back to the computer screen.

Cassian wanted to riot, just as he always did when Nesta looked away from him. It should be illegal, for him not to be able to look upon her face. But especially now. Who knew wen he'd get to see her in glasses again? He needed to find a way to save himself from this withdrawal, and he knew just the thing. "Don't you get a lunch hour?" he asked softly, stepping closer to Nesta and leaning his chin on her shoulder.

"Yes…" she answered slowly, turning her face to look at him.

He grinned. "Great. So why don't you log off but keep those glasses on and join me in the bedroom?"

Before Nesta could answer, Cassian left a kiss on her neck and sauntered to the back of the apartment, smirking as her heard soft footsteps following him.

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, let me know!

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @imsointobooks @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @shinya-hiiragi @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red @wannawriteyouabook @dealfea @bridgertononmymind @daydreamer-anst @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @hiimheresworld @c-e-d-dreamer @kale-theteaqueen @charming-butt-insane @charliespringsleftconverse

[cowgurrrl]

Playing the Game

Pairing: Javier Peña x CIA!reader

Summary: The Aftermath [4.0k]

Warnings: interrogation setting, language, description of injuries (NOTHING GRAPHIC), discussions of nightmares, short dialogue in Spanish, Chekov’s gun if you squint really hard, some smutty thoughts and happenings, a little bit of backstory, canonical violence

"I understand that the events from a few months ago are still fresh in everyone's minds," you say, looking around the room of higher-ups. It's a big mix. CIA, DEA, military personnel, and even Ambassador Noonan. That's standard, you think. It's not every day an undercover CIA agent gets made in the streets of Medellín, kidnapped, and tortured for three days. "But my health has improved over these past few weeks, and my doctors have cleared me to return to the field. Given the grace of the board here today, I would like to return to work and finish the job I came to Colombia to do." 

You accepted the transfer to the United States Embassy in Bogotá a little over two years ago and did desk work for a few months before committing to an undercover job to collect intel on the cartel. It was safe enough. Most days were uneventful as you tuned into the codes and subtle behaviors of those involved. Still, you almost always carried your service weapon with you. You made the right friends. You kept your head down. You checked in with another CIA agent once a week and regularly relayed information to two DEA agents, Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. You were fine until you weren't. 

You still don't really know how they found out you were undercover or exactly what happened over those three days after they snatched you from the sidewalk. Sometimes, you're able to string together conversations had between them beating the shit out of you, but it's a lot of you repeating yourself. "No sé nada. No sé nada." You said over and over again as they accused you of lying and went back to torturing you. It wasn't an official ruling, but the people who stormed into the building collectively believed you were dead. When they stumbled in to find you sitting there, beaten but breathing, they thought it was a small-scale miracle. Upon further investigation and questioning, they were even more surprised you didn't give up any information. Instead, you threw out false leads to buy yourself and the embassy time. This wasn't your first rodeo. You knew better. 

All in all, you walked away starving and dehydrated with a perforated eardrum, deep lacerations from your own pair of handcuffs, a broken wrist, countless cuts and bruises, a concussion, a fucked up knee, and cigarette burns on your arms. Guards parked themselves outside your hospital room and your apartment until they were sure the threat to your life was suspended. Since then, you've been stuck at home, bored to tears, doing physical therapy exercises to regain strength in your leg, and reading declassified files sent to you. You're up to date on the latest happenings in Medellín and more than ready to come back. 

"Agent, I appreciate your willingness and courage to return to work, but how do you know the sicarios won't try to come after you again?" Colonel Wysession asks, and you shrug.

"How do we know that they might not try to come after any of us?" You ask. "You made a statement when you killed everyone involved with my kidnapping. They should know not to fuck with government agents, especially after Kiki Camarena's death." 

"'Should' doesn't mean they won't try it again." Ambassador Noonan chimes in. 

"You're right. They're still out there, wreaking havoc on the country and innocent people, which means you need all the hands you can get to catch them. I know firsthand how they operate and communicate with each other. You won't be able to get that information again, especially after the raid." You say. Agent Jones, the CIA representative, sighs as he flips your file open and looks over it. The interagency cooperation is nice and all, but it really comes down to him and Ambassador Noonan to make the final call. 

"You have an impressive record here, Agent. You were one of the top graduates from Camp Peary. A stint overseas to surveil communist groups in Eastern Europe. Assistance in multiple criminal investigations at home. Your information and skill have helped your country in innumerable ways," he says. "They even gave you a code name for your successes undercover: The Swallow."

"To be clear, I didn't approve of that name." You say quickly, and Agent Jones looks up from your file. 

"It's rare to get a code name anyone approves of." He says, and you nod, deciding to play nice.

"I guess that's true." 

You know exactly why you got given that name, and it will never not make your skin crawl. Years of work in the Agency, months spent undercover, and enough bullets fired in the name of democracy to haunt you for a lifetime, and in return, you get that name plastered to your record forever. So much for respect, right?

"Agent, our main concern right now is that in bringing you back to the field, we are putting a target on your back. Now, you've made it very clear that is a burden you're willing to carry, but that doesn't mean the United States is willing to carry it as well." Ambassador Noonan says.

"Ambassador, with all due respect, the second we put American agents on the ground here in Colombia, the United States not only carried the burden but also condoned it. Other Agency personnel are all aware of the immediate threat of being here and doing this work, and many, many men have disappeared because of it. I've made it back more than once. I can do it again."

"Are you sleeping well, Agent?" Agent Jones asks out of the blue, and you turn to look at him. The question throws you off guard. You were prepared to defend your work and skill, not your personal habits. But, your mind immediately jumps to the other night without your permission. 

It started how it always starts. Flinching in your sleep at phantom hits and talking to no one in particular. Random mumbling at first but then clearer, louder, until you were screaming. You shot up in bed, shaking and crying and swearing you could smell burnt flesh again. You didn't know where you were at first, but old habits die hard, and you instinctively reached for your gun. Someone grabbed your hand to keep you from hurting yourself and shushed you when you cried louder at the grip on your wrists. "It's me," he said gently, turning you around to face him. "It's me."

"I'm sleeping as well as anyone in my line of work can." You tell Agent Jones, pushing the memory from your head. "I'll sleep much better once Escobar's in the ground or behind bars."

"You're really dedicated to this, huh?" Colonel Wysession says, eyeing Noonan out of the corner of his eye, and you nod.

"A couple of loyal men with guns don't scare me, sir," you say. "After the show of force at the recon, I doubt they'll come after any one of us again. But if they do and it's me, I'll get on the first flight home. No questions asked." You know it's a good offer. You know they love to take risks with their agents and then act like they're doing them a service by taking them out. You know how to play this game.

Jones, Noonan, and Wysession talk quietly amongst themselves as you sit there, your hands folded calmly in front of you. It takes them all of two minutes to come to a decision. 

"You're cleared to return to four weeks of desk duty. After that time, we will reevaluate your position and see if we can't get you back in the field." Ambassador Noonan tells you decisively, and your jaw clenches. 

"Four weeks?" 

"I can make it six."

"Four will be perfectly fine, ma'am. Thank you, Ambassador." You say as you stand up and shake her hand.

"Welcome back, Agent." 

You almost forgot how mind-numbing desk duty is. If you hadn't been made, you definitely would've. All day, you watch agents from other agencies come in and out with intel and stories from the streets while you're forced to sit there and file reports on a typewriter that may be older than you. You want to gouge your eyes out when you catch wind of a planned tactical pursuit. The gun sitting in the top drawer of your desk feels like it's burning a hole in your brain, and all you want to do is go back out and do actual work. You didn't graduate top of your class to be a fucking secretary.

You don't know what's worse: desk duty or being chained to your desk when a familiar voice calls your name.

"Well, if it isn't the biggest pain in my ass," you greet as Javi parks himself in front of you. He doesn't object to you calling him a pain in the ass. It even seems to amuse him. "How can I help you, Javier?" 

"What makes you think I need somethin', huh? Maybe I just wanted to see how you're doing." Javi says, and you chuckle, shuffling especially important files away from prying eyes. He rests his hands on your desk and leans forward, his billowy shirt opening enough to give up a nice view of his chest. You glance between him and his collarbones and level him with a knowing look. 

"Call it intuition." You say. You wait another second for him to fess up to what he needs before lifting your hands to start typing again. He sighs and slides you a picture of a sicario, looking around to ensure nobody's watching the interaction. 

"What do you know about him?" He asks quietly. You furrow your brows and shake your head. 

"Who's that?" 

"C'mon, I know you have intel on all these fuckers. I just need to know where he hangs out. We need to ask him a few questions." 

"And when Noonan asks where you got the information? Because you know she will ask."

"I'll say I got it from an especially beautiful high-level CI."

"Enticing," you say. "I don't work for you, Javi. If you want information, go out on the streets and get it yourself." 

"Nobody's willing to acknowledge that this guy is the reason a CIA agent got kidnapped." He says. You stiffen in your chair and look at the picture again. You know you have information on him and remember seeing him around town when you were undercover. You also know you're not supposed to give classified information to the DEA until it is declassified.

"How do you know that?" You ask, and he shrugs as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"If I tell you, are you gonna give me something in return?"

"If you make it good." 

"We have reason to believe one of Pablo's informants caught you sniffing around for information and started tracking your movements. We still don't know how he found out you were CIA, and we need to find him to understand how," he says, pointing at the picture to emphasize his point. You take a deep breath and debate your options. "Look, all I'm asking you to do is… misplace a few files. It happens all the time. There's no way it would come back to you. Plus, I know how bored you are. Live a little."

"They've still got you on desk duty?" Steve asks as he comes down the steps, and you look away from Javi's intense gaze to smile at him. Steve, Javi's partner and DEA's golden boy, has always been kind to you. You're friends with his wife, Connie, and you've spent many a drunken night at their apartment. He's a good man. You give it a few more months here before that changes. 

"Couple more weeks." You say before looking back at Javi. “Sabe lo que me estás pidiendo que haga?” Thank God for white men who move to a country with no understanding of the language. Javi gives you a look and chews on the inside of his cheek. 

“Por supuesto que no.” He shakes his head and you scoff. 

"Eso es que piensaba," you say as you sigh, tear off a corner from a scrap piece of paper, and write down the name of a local bar. "His name is Jorge Alemán. He hides from his wife and mistresses at this bar downtown. He's gonna be armed, so be careful." You hold out the piece of paper to Javi but pull it back before he can grab it. "This doesn't come back to me."

"Course not." He says. You finally hand it to him and look over your shoulder to make sure nobody's watching you give him information. Steve looks confused but willing to go along with whatever as Javi memorizes the name. 

"Do me a favor?" You say, forcing his brown eyes away from the paper. "Don't pull your punches with him. They certainly didn't with me." It's the most you've talked about the kidnapping at work since it happened. You catch both Steve and Javi looking at the thick scars around your wrists, but you don't pull them away. If anything, you hope it inspires them to get a little creative with their interrogation. 

"Yes, ma'am," Javi promises. With that, he takes the paper and the picture, and the two of them disappear up the stairs to do whatever they need to get information. It's better for all three of you if you don't know the exact details of how the other does their jobs. You've each seen the aftermath of each other's training. You don't need to imagine much, but it's a nice boundary in a time where there seems to be none.

When Steve and Javi come back a few hours later with "important intel" for the Ambassador, you pretend not to know anything about it. Thirty minutes later, you're called in to get the information for the first time, and you tell them what you already told Steve and Javi. They agree to fly CENTRA SPIKE over him for a few days to see if they can pick anything up. "Is there anything I can do to assist with this investigation, Ambassador?" You ask before she can try to dismiss the three of you, and she shakes her head. 

"A few more weeks, Agent. I need to ensure your safety before I let you loose again."

"Ambassador, it might be helpful to let her return fully to the field. It could inspire Alemán to reach out to his contacts about her, and we could get more information about how she got made." Steve suggests, and Javi nods.

"He's right. We have to give CENTRA SPIKE something to pick up. Why not details about her?" Obviously, your absence has impacted them, especially if they're going to bat for you. Part of you warms at the thought of them caring so much about you, but the other part worries about what the Ambassador will say. 

"Her work is also valuable to the Embassy as a whole. It would be a mistake to sideline her any longer."

"Okay, gentlemen, you've made your point," Noonan cuts Steve off before he can continue, and you have to fight your smile when she looks at you. "Can you handle this?" She asks, and you nod.

"Yes, ma'am." You say. She shakes her head before reaching for what you're assuming is your file behind her and writing something down.

"The second I think it's too much for you, I'm pulling you back out. This time for two months and there will be no negotiations to be had unless you want to get on a plane home. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," you agree. "Thank you, Ambassador."

"Don't make me regret this." 

You'd be lying if you said you didn't go home with a little extra pep in your step. You got two weeks taken off of your mandatory desk duty and got your badge back. You've had much worse days, most of which ended with you drinking one too many and smoking until your small apartment is hazy. Today, you feel much better despite your apartment being a mess.

Mail has piled up on the counter next to your medical discharge paperwork and physical therapy exercises. Letters postmarked from the United States bore into you as you do your best to ignore them by plopping your bag on top of them. Half-open rolls of gauze are scattered around, so you could always have one on hand when changing your dressings. Your breakfast dishes are still in the sink, but you are not motivated to wash them. Besides, you're just gonna make a bigger mess once you start making dinner. 

You'd been thinking about what you would make all day and only settled on it once you left the Ambassador's office. There's not much you get to control during your day, so you take special care with the food you eat. You like cooking. You always have, and you're not half-bad at it. It's one of the only times you can call the shots and turn your mind off, worries about cartel numbers and communist groups in the jungle pushed away for a time. You're stirring a big pot on the stove when the knock sounds at your door.

He's late. He's always late. He'll claim it's deliberate so nobody can track his movements, but you're convinced he has no sense of time. His work habits can prove as much. You can't count how often you've been working late with him and had to pull him away from his desk because he didn't realize it was midnight. "Just let me do one more thing, and then we can leave," he's always tried to negotiate. You barely manage to get him to stop every time, but he relents after so much convincing. 

You turn down the radio in your kitchen and walk over to the door to let him in, a smile already tugging at your lips. You barely have the deadbolt unlocked before he's pushing through the door and stealing air from you. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes (a nightcap with Steve?), and your hands reach up to play with the curls at the nape of his neck. He hums against you as he shuts the door behind him and presses you against it. 

"Somethin' smells good." He mumbles.

"I'm making dinner. Figured it was a special occasion." You say, but he's already ducking his head down to mouth at the column of your throat, his teeth grazing the spot he knows makes you dizzy.

"'M not hungry." He says even though you know for a fact he's been living on cigarettes and coffee all day. You push him away and give him a look, but he feigns innocence, his fingers sneaking their way up your shirt.

"I did not cook all this food for you to tell me you're not hungry," you say. He opens his mouth to argue, but you kiss him before he can, and he, predictably, melts into you. "Dinner first, and then I'll let you do whatever you want me to do. Deal?" 

"Whatever I want?" He echoes, and you nod. "Must be a damn good dinner."

"Mm, the best." You say as you push him off you to return to the stove. He sighs and lets you pass, but he quickly settles behind you, his hands dangerously roaming over you as you stir the pot again. You smack his wrist when his hand tries to duck under your waistband, and he groans. "You made a deal."

"Deals are broken all the time," he kisses the back of your neck, insatiable, and you shiver as his mustache brushes against your skin. "I've also been thinkin' bout this since you pulled that shit at work."

"That really did it for you, huh?" You ask, a smirk pulling at your lips, but it quickly fades when he grinds his hard cock against you. He nips at your earlobe and successfully manages to unbutton the top of your jeans, your breath hitching when his fingers trace the waistband of your panties.

"You don't work for me, huh?" He breathes, and you laugh as you rest your head back on his shoulder.

"My security clearance is higher than yours." 

"Y'know, sometimes I think you like terrorizing me."

"Who says I don't?" You know you're treading thin ice with him, but you don't care. You always like to rile Javi up just to see what he'll do. When he reaches around you to safely turn off the stove, you know you've got him right where you want him. Something in your brain complains about the dinner you made, but it quickly shuts up once his fingers push your underwear to the side and graze your clit. You sigh in relief, already putty in his hands, and he's barely touched you. 

He draws tight circles around the little bundle of nerves, and you grip the edge of the counter to try to keep your balance. His other hand rests lazily around your throat, not enough to restrict your breathing but enough to keep you upright with the promise that he could. This— the desperate need and no time wasted— is more familiar than anything else.

Since the kidnapping, he's treated you like you're made of glass. He tried a few times to come to take care of you, but every time you argued about something, you would make him leave. You'd rather heal alone than have someone staring at you like a kicked dog. You were the one practically begging him to touch you the second you felt well enough, and you were the one who had to convince him you wouldn't break. Later, he would tell you he was scared to even kiss you because he just kept seeing you chained to that chair, bloody and beaten. It's taken a lot of adjustments on both sides, but him pressing you against the counter and taking control is the most reminiscent of the beginnings of your relationship when it was still "one more time," and you could barely stand each other. 

It was stress relief. In a lot of ways, it still is. Nobody knows about you two, and neither of you is ready or willing to disclose to Noonan. She'd immediately send one of you home, but it definitely wouldn't be Javi. So, you're completely fine sneaking between apartments and fucking catastrophic days away. It's enough. Unlike the way he's touching you.

"Javi," you whine, arching into his touch, and he shushes you. His middle finger barely pushes into you when a loud boom sounds nearby, followed by blaring car alarms. You jump, and he quickly withdraws and shields your body with his as the floor shakes. It might not have been in the neighborhood, but it was really fucking close. You wait out any aftershocks or additional bombs, and both your phones start ringing, not even five minutes later. 

A car bomb planted in Jorge Alemán's truck exploded when he put the keys in the ignition. He died before the bomb was even done exploding. Whoever found out you were CIA not only sold that information, but they killed Alemán before he could talk. They must've seen Javi and Steve poking around. They might know you're back at the Agency. They might try to kill you as a way of tying up their loose ends. Steve warns you as much when you show up at the scene, uncomfortably turned on and annoyed at the same time. 

"This could get real ugly," Steve says, and you nod. 

"You regret coming down here?" You ask. He gives you a look as Javi walks around the vehicle's wreckage but shakes his head.

"Do you?"

"No," you say. "I came here to nail Escobar, and I'm not going home until we do. If it has to get ugly for that to happen, that's fine." He looks like he wants to say something more but stops himself. Instead, you join Javi next to the car and talk with the local police about what happened, completely aware that bystanders have seen your face and the gun on your hip. They know you're with the United States government, and they know what you're worth.

Yeah, shit was gonna get real ugly, and you thought you were ready for it. But then again, everyone did in 1992.

TAGLIST:@abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia (let me know if you don't wanna be tagged for this series!)

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

To Play Hide And Seek With Jealousy

Pairing: Yandere!Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Stalking, murder, general psycho yandere behavior???

Genre: it's dark it's kinda angst technically

Summary: you have a stalker, what happens when you can't take the anxiety anymore // inspired by: To Play Hide and Seek With Jealousy by Famous Last Words

***

The first time he saw you was at work. It was late and the library you work in was just about to close when he happened to catch a glimpse of you through the window. You'd been resting your chin in your hand, reading a book. He stared for quite some time from across the street, watching you close up. He even followed you a few blocks, not all the way to your apartment, but far enough to be reprimanded if anyone found out. You didn't see him, didn't even know for sure there was anyone around but you felt it. A strange inclination that something was amiss. It went on for weeks. You'd feel just the vaguest sense of unease sometimes. When leaving work, or going to work, lunch with friends, even running errands became stressful. You were always looking over your shoulder and your dear boyfriend, he tried everything to calm you down. Started walking you to and from work, or at least calling you when he couldn't, installing extra locks on your apartment door, anything he could do to ease your anxieties he did. It helped, slightly, but even now you still get that odd chill at the back of your neck sometimes. 

Unfortunately these days it's usually accompanied by flashes of green and gold. You know for a fact someone is following you, the piercing pair of eyes you often catch peering from the shadows while you're working is enough proof for you. You'd thought you imagined those eyes at first, a side effect of your growing paranoia, but you've seen them too many times, taken pictures, in fact, today you'd be able to draw them how regularly you see them during your late nights at the library. And working day shifts doesn't help, no, those eyes still peek at you from the shadows of the nearby high rises and at this point, you only wish they would do something.

It's exhausting, the constant unease, looking over your shoulder for glints of gold, or glimpses of green, or that pair of eyes. You've barely been able to sleep most nights, even with your boyfriend around literally all the time to try to dispel your nerves.

Your boyfriend. A problem. He already didn't know how to approach you but worse was that- pathetic mortal you kept around. You could do so much better than him, deserved so much better than him, and if he could just get your boyfriend out of the picture he knows he could give that to you. And getting your boyfriend out of the picture is exactly what he plans to do. First anyway.

He's not mean with it. Although he could be. He sees no reason to prolong the torture. It won't win him points or anything. One night, before your boyfriend can pick you up at work he grabs him. So quick the boyfriend can't even scream before he's in a cabin in the woods.

"I appreciate you taking care of her for me, but you can't keep her anymore, and with you around she'll never have me. So you have to go." He tells your boyfriend calmly.

"Y-you're the one who's been stalking my girlfriend?"

"Stalking is a- dreadful way to put it. I suppose it doesn't matter though seeing as I'm about to kill you. Don't worry I'll be quick. I have to get back before y/n gets off of work." A dagger appears in his hand and your boyfriend's eyes widen. He lets out a yell as the blade is plunged through his heart. Luckily they're far away enough from the city that no one will hear him out here. A few moments of pained groans later, your boyfriend slumps over in the chair and he knows the job is done. He waves a hand and magic disposes of the body, cleans his clothes and returns him to his hiding spot to watch you for the remainder of your shift. He even sends a text on your boyfriend's behalf apologizing that he will not be able to get you after all. Step one complete.

When your shift ends you're so nervous about walking alone by yourself that you call a friend to keep you calm. The feeling that you're being watched doesn't go away but you can ignore it slightly while on the phone. In your apartment, you're even more unsettled to realize your boyfriend isn't here. He's always here. Sure he still has his own place but the last few weeks he's hardly left yours because of your concerns. Something is wrong. You feel it in your bones but what can you do exactly?

It's pure coincidence, the video you see the next day on social media, those same eyes you see in the shadows all the time now on your phone, attached to a face, with a name. Loki. You wouldn't be so quick to say so definitively if those eyes were not burned into your memory and if not for the green and gold that seems to be his signature. There's something comforting about having a name and face to the ominous shadow you've... accrued. It doesn't completely eliminate the fear you feel leaving your apartment but it definitely lessens it even if only slightly.

A week. Another week goes by before you resolve you can't let this go on any longer. It's a bit impulsive, you're walking home from work, and after the sound of a window closing makes you jump you decide right then that you have absolutely had enough. You stop in your tracks and turn around angrily. You can't see him but you know he's there somewhere.

"LOKI! I am so over this shit and I know you can hear me so whatever fucking game you're playing it's over! Either show yourself now and tell me what you want or leave me the fuck alone!" You're only glad it's late so no one's around to see you shouting at the air. Moments later Loki materializes in front of you and you steel your nerves, not letting your anger waver.

"Bold choice, threatening a god." He says with a smirk.

"Bold?! I am tired and angry and sick of always looking over my shoulder because the god of mischief ain't got shit else to do. Are you that bored? Can't you find a better use of your damn time than following me around like fucking a psycho?! You are driving me crazy! I'm not bold I am just tired of your games. I'll threaten you all I want, I haven't been able to let my guard down for months!" You snap.

"I don't see why, I've only been protecting you." Loki shrugs.

"Protecting me?! You're out of your mind! You're a stalker! The only thing I need protecting from is you!" You scoff.

"There's that unpleasant word again." He kisses his teeth.

"What do you want from me Loki?" You sigh.

"I love you y/n. I want only to cherish you as you deserve." He says calmly. Your eyes widen as you consider something.

"Have you- have you done something to Andrew?" You ask. You knew the text about a family emergency was suspicious but you had no reason to suspect something was amiss until this moment.

"It's best you don't ask me about that." He says.

"What?"

"Ignorance is your friend. If your Andrew has disappeared, you cannot be implicated as long as you do not know anything about the alleged disappearance. I cannot lie to you though, if you ask me I will tell you the truth, but it puts you at risk. To know. And I do not wish to do that. I will never wish to even potentially harm you." Loki's words send a chill down your spine. Though he hasn't told you what he's done you know in your heart that Andrew will not be coming back to you. Ever.

"H-how could you do this?" You can feel tears sting your eyes.

"I did it for you. You would regret spending your life with him, I know you would, he didn't deserve you and I will not let anything come between us."

"Loki there is no us. I do not know you, I do not love you. And you took my Andrew." You shake your head.

"No you see- I've done us both a favor. Now you can love me. You will, we have all the time in the world." Loki says with a smile on his face so unsettling you have to force yourself not to shiver at the sight, though you do take a step back.

"You're not listening-"

"No, you aren't listening. We're meant to be y/n. I'm sure of it and you will be too. Soon." Loki grabs your arm and in a blink, you're both gone.

***

[triumphantbass]

Dawntrail Retrospective

Okay, it's been two weeks since Dawntrail launched, a bit over a week since I've cleared it and have had time to think things over, wanted to do a big dump of my thoughts, a non-scored review of it all.

Full spoilers after the break.

So, I want to give this all a nuanced look; I know this has been a polarizing expansion; I did very much enjoy my time while still having some qualms, and I'll try to highlight both sides of that here.

Overall, while it would be low in my expansion rankings, that's not to say it's bad. Just as I probably bump Heavensward up a bit in my rankings because it did so much with so little (in terms of budget, gameplay tools available, story to build on, cast, etc.), Dawntrail takes a hit because I know what they're capable of these days.

But a 10 year saga is a tough act to follow, and I know if this was my first FFXIV experience (it might be a lot of people's one day, if the 'second saga starting point' for new players they mentioned ever gets implemented), I'd be going 'oh wow'.

Anyways, before I pick things apart, I'd like to highlight what really worked for me.

Sphene was my problematic fave. I know Artificial Intelligence tropes can be overdone, but I have a fondness for them because when done right, an AI is clearly authored by someone. Just like a biography, even an autobiography, paints the subject in a certain way, an AI really reflects the creators' biases.

Just as the soul technology was shown as a mechanical version of the aetherial sea, Sphene really felt like a sort of digital primal for Alexandria, the people's desires latched on to her, sort of a vtuber Zodiark.

I loved the development that her compassionate personality (taken from the OG Sphene) was distinctly incompatible with her unsustainable primary directive, protecting and preserving Alexandria's way of life (the directive from the people)

And I appreciated that part of the thesis statement of her character is "a Garnet who never traveled with Zidane would become a tool of Alexandria, her kindness taken advantage of as a figurehead''. Which makes it nice when Wuk Lamat breaks through during The Interphos to appeal to her.

She can feel like a bit of a rehash of Hades and Metion, but I do enjoy the contrast of her valuing life too much to Metion not valuing it enough; it's important to know how to live in spite of despair, but it's also important to accept that even memory is not forever.

Also while I'm here I have to say I absolutely respect the zone change of Living Memory from stunningly beautiful to hauntingly somber. I hope that change is not reverted in patches, as it's absolutely the starkest environment change in the game.

I like the idea of casting aside nostalgia to care for the living, and I thought this zone was a welcome surprise from the "Golden City" imagery a South and Central American expansion invokes.

(PS, massive Simulated Twilight Town vibes)

And I thought Cachuia was well done in this zone; I was a bit antsy earlier with how they made her into just a drone, but I liked the resolution between her and Erenvelle

But one thing I want to stress as I sing the praises of the last zone and change, is that neither half of this expansion works without the other, because unlike other split expansions (SB having the Gyr Albania and Yanxia halves, EW having Islabard then the Ancients), it felt clear in why it had both halves, and that was for the contrast of the same theme, Namely, the ideas of culture, tradition, and history, and how they affect the living.

When Wuk Lamat is giving her speech during her ceremony, she notes one of the societies taught her "they believe death is not the end, and we live on so long as we are remembered", which Sphene says almost verbatim of her people later, menacingly polite as that same belief is twisted.

There are some roots of this conflict in the first half too, with Koana's disinterest in culture and tradition, before realizing progress and culture weren't incompatible.

While Alexandria instead takes it to a logical, Black Mirror extreme, discarding culture and history, literally forgetting anyone who passes (while assuring themselves anyone who is lost still lives on) and living purely in the present moment; death itself removed from the public circle.

I don't think the Alexandria half, the modern, present-focused society works without first setting up a region with a rich culture and history.

In the first few regions, you see how those who walked before led those who walked after, while in Heritage Found... you see a heritage lost. On both sides of the divider there are abandoned buildings; a sidequest in the graveyard has the keeper note that memorials have fallen out of favor due to regulators, Alexandria had a perfect record of history (data, people, all stored in the cloud), but didn't use it; specifically keeping it away to prevent painful memories from affecting the present. While Yok Tural had an imperfect history (a lot in legends, retold/inconsistent oral history), but that history distinctly affected their day to day; even the painful memories, the tragedies, all played a part in shaping the present.

Even though it could make the pacing clunky at times, I did like that Wuk Lamat's basic setup of "learn about these people and understand why they make the choices they do" extended to Solution Nine and even Living Memory.

Garool Jaja was also a very good character, loved his performance, do kinda wish his solo duty where he confides the true nature of the contest was the very start of the expansion; I feel like it would have set the tone for this being the "The WoL is a mentor arc" better.

Also to wrap up the good side: every single dungeon and trial was ace. Dungeons finally hit a good level of difficulty for normal content, and were well designed and very pretty. Vanguard and Everkeep in particular were delights, as was the postgame dungeon Tender Valley.

------------------------------------------------------------------

And on to my more mixed feelings.

Wuk Lamat- I don't hate her, but I don't like her that much either. I tried to keep an open mind for the full MSQ, but ultimately she's not a character I really vibed with; I do get the shonen protag/Naruto appeal, but it's really not for me. She's been described as 'Lyse 2.0', and while I admit I have similar feelings about Lyse, I do think Wuk Lamat has a more natural progression. Lyse started Stormblood feeling like a 20 something on a mission trip, while Wuk Lamat feels like a reasonable candidate who just needs a little encouragement.

I don't mind too much our WoL taking a mentor role and taking a backseat, while downplaying their powers; but what I struggled most with was fatigue. Wuk Lamat was always there, like the memes of "Talk to Wuk Lamat" say. Like Shadowbringers was the expansion where Graha was the main character, and a lot of the time he was away doing city stuff or being mysterious. Wuk Lamat would have benefited from more time to breathe, especially in the back half of the game. She should still be there in the back half for sure, for the expansion to work she needs to be a player in all this, but I'll admit I sighed when I got to Solution Nine thinking I'd explore by myself (probably bumping into her at one of the locations) but instead needed to escort her. As I noted earlier, I don't mind the Interphos interruption (though I did appreciate the chance for the WoL to be at full strength) because Wuk Lamat appealing to Sphene's humanity fit the expansion themes well.

Succession- I'm happy this didn't go into my worst fear: a retread of the Azim Steppe where we actively interfere in another nation's politics by being their champion; but it left a bit to be desired. Notably, while I knew the Scion Civil War was a bit of a misdirect, it felt kinda pointless? Like Thancred and Urianger are here helping an alumni from their university out as he applies for the same job, but they're totally chill with you. And honestly there are no stakes to him getting the job, he's the only other qualified candidate to the point where you hire him later yourself.

I didn't want any longstanding inter-scion conflict, but for a character as frequently duplicitous as Urianger and driven as Thancred it just felt like a waste.

Also, GJJ clearly told the WoL that the keystones didn't determine the victor; he would pick a successor that was worthy- I kinda wish they just stuck to that. Having the "good' rulers and "bad" rulers paired together for the cooking challenge felt like a bit of a cop-out, , plus needing to win back a stolen keystone, etc. just felt like missed opportunities.

Zarool Ja and Bakool Jaja - I get what they were going for in the end with each of these: ZJ being the "impossible son of an impossible son, the weight of expectations causing him to shun those around him, and that loneliness twisting him", BJJ being desperate to help his people, feeling the major survivors guilt of his own life costing so many others.

but neither of their narrative arcs are smooth, and in the first half, especially during the trial, they seem to be doing comically evil Wacky Races Dick Dastardly behavior with no regards for a continuous arc. BJJ releasing Valigarmanda was the icing on the cake for me. He could have done this in a reasonable way, weakening the seal in an attempt to sabotage the trial, then feeling guilt over what he did in desperation, but no he walked up to the gate keepers like 'no I'm evil, I'm gonna destroy that now' any hints of ZJ sympathy come like, during his trial and from the Wandering Minstrel, who even notes most will see him as a one dimensional tyrant

I also think they could have distinguished both more from just being warmongers; in the same way that Wuk Lamat and Koana are somewhat aligned but have different visions, personally it would have made more sense to me if BJJ had a different brand of conservatism; putting a stronger emphasis on defense and isolationism rather than world conquest. It would fit his background better too, as someone who wanted to protect his homeland

--------------------------------------------------------------------

My most negative thoughts are really just pacing. I would like to not have so many quests just running around talking to people, not learning much of note. I know there are only so many things you can do (stand in purple cloud and kill 3 enemies isn't great either), but at this point I'd honestly just take a shorter MSQ if it meant better story pacing.

I know the first half is meant to be like an abbreviated ARR, and I don't mind it being low stakes, just wish it had a bit more polish.

I will also say I felt a lot more limited in my dialog at times? Like I don't need every box to have "I'll kill your god if I have to, maybe even if I don't", but there felt like a lot of instances where you had two ways to say the same sentiment. I like it when the game lets you have opinions, even if the opinions are objectively bad (you can straight up tell Noah the Allagans were visionaries) A lot of that pacing was more actual story content than the quests though; the first three zones could feel like extended allied society quests (solid enough ones), which wasn't bad for a 'fresh start', but Shalooni is where things felt off. I liked the vibes but frankly the quests left barely any impressions at all.

(loved the trolley dig though)

------------------------------------------------------------------

Overall, like I said, I enjoyed my time. While it may not be a favorite expansion, it sets a good baseline for another ten years, and I hope they can refine it in the patch series and beyond.

There's a lot more I could probably say, I realized I didn't have a chance to touch on Erenvelle (very glad he tagged along) and Krile; but I feel I'll have more thoughts on both of their plotlines after the patch series.

P.S. though I rolled my eyes at some of the running jokes I genuinely got a chuckle out of Wuk Evu always freaking out then snapping back to polite with "well I won't overthink it then" and similar. Felt very Chocobo Racing GP.

P.P.S. Wood-carved owl nouliths are the best idea. A+ weapon.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The car door shuts and jars you from your daze. You look over, your head bobbling as you squint at the empty seat beside you. You lean against your side of the car until the door opens suddenly and you're only kept from falling out by the restraint of the seat belt.

"Oh, dear," Jonathan's voice startles you.

You frown up at him, rolling your eyes to clear the fog. The last few days, the last weeks, months, and years all flow over you. The displacement of it clutches in your chest.

Just a minute before, you thought it was Andy who left you in the car alone, that you'd just sat through another of his lectures, more a dressing down. No, you're divorced now and that was a very long time ago. You wince as your shoulder thrums and give a pathetic wine.

Jonathan reaches across you and unbuckles the belt. He catches you as you slouch towards him, his proximity suffocating. He is your boss. You need to be careful.

Careful or what? You'll lose your shitty job and your shitty apartment. Big deal.

"Come, darling," he helps you stand, keeping an arm around you, "we can't have you falling now."

You set your feet, your body heavy and stiff. Your hips ache from the waiting room chairs and that persistent soreness that never seems to go away. You lean on him as he shuts the door.

He angles you around and you look up at the building before you. It's not what you expected. You're not at your apartment, instead walking, nearly stumbling, towards the sleek modern architecture of a detached house.

"Where..." you garble around your dry tongue.

"Well, the doctor did advise you not be left alone and you won't be using your arm any time soon. I figure for the time being, you might do well with some supervision, rather assistance."

"Mmm, but..." your voice trails off as he slows and takes the steps with you one at a time, they're low and long, a rather tedious design.

"But what?" He wonders lightly.

You blink as he stops you again, keying in the code on the pad beneath the door handle. You groan and shake your head. You should go home.

"I'll be fine," you argue.

"It is only one night," he counters smoothly, "I couldn't in good conscience--"

"You're too polite, you know that? And so proper," you mutter and let him usher you inside. You couldn't stop him if you tried.

He turns you and sits you a leather bench next to the shoe mat. Of course, his place is luxurious and immaculate. God, what he must think of the broken glass in your front door.

He bends to remove his leather shoes before he comes before you, kneeling to unlace your black orthopedic sneakers. The ones from Walmart with the memory foam. They don't do much for your arches.

"Why are you so nice to me?" You mope, brain fuzzy as your thoughts escape before you can filter them.

"Am I? Or am I just decent?" He scoffs, "darling," he stands with a grunt and bends over you, looping his arms around you to lift you, "I won't presume to know much of your previous entanglement but it might be that you've accepted treatment lesser than what you deserve."

He guides you through a broad square archway and into an equally refined room. You dare say your ex-husband might just drool at the aesthetic. He takes you to the couch and eases you down, pulling several cushions behind you before lowering you gently.

You tisk and look away from him, staring at the black and white portrait of Big Ben on the wall. You don't want to be here, it just reminds you of how pathetic you are. Look at you, broken and beat down.

You close your eyes and groan. You wait, refusing to look, until you sense him back away. You let out a long breath and try to relax. The tension is just making your arm throb and you don't have the energy to maintain it.

He returns and drapes a blanket over you.

"This should do for the time being. I've brought some lounge clothes you may borrow when you feel up to changing out of that uniform. Those things are not very comfortable," he chuckles, "I might make you some tea?"

"I'm fine," you grumble, letting your eyes open just slightly. Your head lolls as you feel ready to doze.

"If you'd rather sleep, that is probably best," he aquiesces.

"Hm," you sniff.

He lets out another soft laugh, "what? You disapprove of something?"

"No," you growl.

"You must. If it is some flaw I possess, I don't mind changing--"

"You," you snip, "you're too handsome and rich to be doing all this for me."

"Handsome?" He repeats coyly.

"Don't even try to pretend you don't know," your eyes close as you babble, "tall and blonde and... strong. I'm a divorcee who can't afford brand name mac and cheese." You yawn and sink back into the pillows, "I know it's only pity. Rich guys just wanna stroke their egos."

The words blaze in your mind as somewhere deep down, you know you shouldn't say them. You can't worry about your rambling as the painkillers mute any strand of sense left in you. He is right, sleep is best, sleep is your only escape.

[i-like-art-and-spiderman]

Double date prequel

I thought I would make a prequel to my last post.

The Spider trio after reuniting decide to take their Harry's all out on dates. Peter 1: Wait we all want to take our Harry's out on at date, right? Why don't we make it a double date. Peter 3: Oh my God that sounds like so much fun. Peter 2: Hmm I don't know; you really think they would get along. Peter 3: Aww what do you mean. Peter 2: Well as much as I love my Harry to bits, he can be a All Peters: Stubborn jackass sometimes. . . . Peter 2: Yeah. Peter 3: And Harry doesn't exactly have the best view of himself. Peter 1: They're working on it though, and I'm sure that if were around it will be fine. Peter 3: I mean yeah, like what's . . . Peter 2: Don't say it. Peter 3: the worst thing that can happen. Peter 1 and 2: oooooooooh All: . . . No, it's probably fine.

Raimiverse: After Harry gets back from Oscorp and Peter just returns home.

Peter after getting changed: Hello. Harry *sitting on the couch*: Sup, dinner is in kitchen. Peter: You are a sweetheart * kisses Harry*. And speaking of dinner * peter lays his head down on Harry's lap* You, me, Friday night, Peter one's universe, double date with Peters 1, 3, and their Harry's.

Webbverse/TASM universe: * same time as Raimi verse*

Harry: No. Peter: Why not? Harry: I'm gonna be busy? Oscorp has a big business meeting Saturday.

MCU: * same time as the other universes:

Peter: They are making you work on a Saturday? Harry: I know right. It's so stupid. But dad is going to have a cow if I don't go. Plus... All three Harrys: I don't think that me and my other counterparts would get along very well. All three Peter's: I beg to differ; you all have things in common. Your all Ceo's, you are all creative, rich. All Harry's: *mumblin* Self pretentious assholes. All three Peter's: HEY! We talked about that self-talk.

All Harry's: . . . I know.

( The Amazing Spiderman)

Peter puts his arms around Harry's shoulders, hugging him from the back.

Peter: Don't talk about yourself like that. Please. Harry: . . . Peter: *Peter stands in front of Harry taking both of his hands* And I would really appreciate it if you and I go. You haven't met the others yet, and they are like siblings to me. Harry: * sighs* I'll see what I can do. Peter: Thank you. Now anything you want for dinner. Harry: Pizza sounds nice. Raimi Peter: You know I don't like it when you talk about yourself like that. Harry: I know. Peter: If you really don't want to go, we don't have to. But it would be nice, when was the last time we went out since we got married? Harry: A week before our wedding a month ago. Peter: . . . Harry: Fine I have been waiting for an excuse to go on a date. *walks away* Plus, it would be nice to see the others again as they are basically you but somehow more adorable and are pretty much babies. Peter: . . . I'm not adorable! Harry: Liar! MCU: Peter: Please. Harry: No. Peter: Please! Harry: No! And stop giving me those puppy dog eyes. Peter: Look I know you are very busy taking over some work for your dad at Oscorp, but this is really important to me. I really want you to meet them. Harry: . . . Peter: * Stares at Harry with puppy dog eyes* Harry: * Sigh* You are the most stubborn man I met Peter Parker. * starts texting his dad* * minutes later* Dad okayed it, he'll go to the meeting instead. But if he scolds me later it's your fault. Peter who is ecstatic: * Kisses Harry on the lips* I know.

First one

[thelittleliars]

Love Forever? | Pt. 2

Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader Yelena Belova x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: cursing, yelling

Words: 2.1K

AN: This one has more interactions with Yelena than Natasha but it's all a huge part for the full story! Also the 3rd part is going to take at least 1-2 weeks since I'll be traveling to Budapest in the next couple of days! Gonna visit all the Black Widow filming locations there 🔥

Part 1 , Part 3

"Cyka" Yelena cursed in russian before she cursed you in english again. "You bitch! Why would you travel to Russia without me?" She shook her head in disappointment, you saw a grin on her lips tho when she turned her head to the side to see who walked in. You didn't see who it was since you were on FaceTime with her and only she was in the frame. "Who is in Russia?" You heard her voice in the background asking Yelena.

"Your ex-wife." Ex-wife, it was still something that pained you but the separation did you good. Your anxiety with all the worrying whenever Natasha went on a mission was gone now. You felt more at peace thanks to the break up. "Anyways, have you visit mama and papa yet? Last time I heard they were going insane to see you again. Apparently they can't wait to spoil you rotten with russian culture and stories of us as kids ugh."

"Don't forget about the baby pictures they're gonna show her." Nat reminded Yelena who's expression looked a mix of embarrassment and panic. "Yours gonna be there too Natalia. Can't wait for Y/N to see your awful blue hair phase."

You saw a shadow coming closer to the blonde widow, then a hand came into view hitting the back of her head. "You little bitch! Next time I'm there I'll burn all of them."

"Let's just burn the whole place down yeah?" A gasp escaped your mouth, even though you knew she was kidding it was something she'd really do. "Yel NO! Also Nat please don't burn any of them." You said sadly. "I wish I had at least a single photo of myself as a child. Hell I don't even know where I'm from, apart from being held by hydra for half my life."

"Guess we're all in the same boat. None of us knows where exactly we come from. Oh oh we can be the lost daughters buddies." The younger sister screamed out in pain after her older sister slapped the back of her head once again. "Try sheering her up instead of ruining the mood with some sad shit from our past."

Suddenly your screen went black, you were about yo look at your wifi to see if the connection was lost but before that could even happen you heard a chair screeching. "What gave you the right to give me that fucking advice huh? How about you stay out of my business with her since you were the one who destroyed your relationship." Yelena was mad, no she was furious with her sister, that's why you weren't surprised that she hung up on you. This was a great time to start driving towards your (ex) parents in law.

You took your bags, threw them into the car you rented, then jumping into the drivers seat and made your way towards Melina's and Alexei's little farm outside of Saint Petersburg. Not long after, you arrived your destination, Melina and Alexei both stood outside already as if they were expecting you. You did not call or text them since it was supposed to be a surprise.

"Ahh finally, my daughter is home again." Alexei walked to you and immediately his arms around your body, squeezing you to death. "I need to breath big guy." He let you go but still smiled at you happily. "Come on inside. I'll show you your room. We decorated a bit, hope you'll like it."

The decoration he was talking about were only new curtains and a stuffed penguin animal. You appreciated their effort.

Later that day when you were outside feeding the pigs, you heard and saw a Quinjet coming. Of course Yelena had the nerve taking a jet and flying to russia. But she wasn't alone. Natasha also tagged along. You gulped at the sight of her standing there in casual clothes. It was actually your first time seeing her in six months. The last time was after the divorce all those months ago. Alexei of course was the happiest, now that all his daughters were home. Melina was happy to see them too but she was more worried about you. At times she was more protective over you than Yelena and even though it was heartwarming, it pained you too. She was like a mother figure that you never had. The longing and grieving of a life you could have had nearly destroyed you whenever you think deeply about it.

"Natasha I need a little help in the kitchen." Was all she said before going inside and the red head trailing after her like a good god. Yelena and dad catched up on stuff while you sat down on a bench near the front door that had a great view on the animals. You had no clue how much time had gone by until your friend and sister sat down next to you. "What is on your mind Y/N Y/L/N?" She tried to get you talking by saying your whole name as teasing but you were starting to feel numb so nothing would bother you anyways.

"As you'd say my ex wife." Seeing her after all this time stirred up a lot of thoughts in you. "What about her precisely?"

You sighed quietly. "I don't know. I guess it's just us in general and how we ended up here." It wasn't a lie but also not the whole truth either. You didn't want to talk in details since you knew it would get you in a vulnerable state. "She was a bitch for demanding that divorce.."

Out of reflex you started to defend your ex. "She got trigged Yel-" "No. Don't. Don't you dare make excuses for her." Yelena cut you off fast. She hated you for defending Natasha in this situation when you deserved so much better.

"It's just the truth. Plus I'm not as innocent in this situation as you think I am." You could have fought more for your wife but instead you signed the divorce papers quick. Probably because of the things that happened before the accident. "Natasha and I had a pretty nasty fight right before she got called on a mission and got her head injury." You paused for a minute. "If I'm being honest.. our marriage was falling apart anyways."

Yelena gaped at you. "I don't understand Natasha always talked so highly of you." You wished that was true, you wished all the good she found in you was actually good.

"I told you this was going to happen!" You yell at her, feeling angry and betrayed that she didn't listen to you. "And yet you ignored me and continue doing it anyways." Natasha hates herself for not listening to you but she'd never admit that out loud. Instead she blames you for everything, she knows it is wrong but it's difficult for her being truthful and vulnerable right now. "This wouldn't have happened if you were more open to the idea of being more affectioned in public. Maybe then he'd have known that I'm not single!"

"He kissed you. Because you kept flirting with him to get what you want.. you're an avenger for gods sake! You can get anything you want just by asking Tony or any of us." You stop yourself from getting even more louder. A deep breath and a few seconds is all you need to be more calm. "You know what? Maybe they all were right when they said you are a monster. Because right now, that's all I see."

The fight didn't leave your mind, it stayed and harassed you daily on repeat. You knew you guys covered up a lot of your problems. A marriage is a piece of work and you guessed you both weren't just ready for that huge marriage step. "Would you ever take her back?" She asked you softly. You were looking so hard for the right words to say but you fell flat. "I'm not in love with her anymore so I don't know." Though you didn't know for sure you constantly told yourself you'rw not in love anymore. If that was the truth then why did you panic when a knock came from the door frame? Why did your heart beat faster when you saw it was Natasha who knocked?

"Dinner is ready." Her voice was quiet but still so damn soft. While you stood up and walked towards the front foor, Yelena's gaze lingered on you for a while before she rushed after you into the house. At dinner you all fell into a comfortable conversation. It felt very awkward at first especially since you were convinced that your ex-lover overheard what you told Yelena. You were also anxious but it got better once Alexei started talking about his new tattoo shop. He had opened it two months ago and was fully booked out already. You were happy for him, tattoos were something what he was extremly good at so the demand was so deserved. After dinner was over you all three went to the bedrooms which you all had to share.

The next morning you wondered why 'dad' was still here. He explained that there was a new girl who worked at his tattoo shop, helping him out for all the appointments. Then he joked about how he'd set any of you three up with her. The blonde daughter just snorted, not wanting anything to do with romance, but he was too excited for an introduction to notice Yelena's obvious disinterest. Maybe he did notice since he showed a photo of her only to Natasha and you. And that was when something struck in you, you didn’t know how or why but you had to see the girl personally. You asked him where his shop was located and after giving you directions you stood up, turned to Yelena asking her to drive you there. Natasha felt irritated at how fast you wanted to see that new girl.

As soon as your eyes met hers, everything around you stopped, you felt a pull to her, a magical pull that you couldn't control. Your arms came around each other and somehow nothing on the world made more sense than this moment.

"Voi herranjumala." (Oh my god.) She said something in a language you thought you knew yet you didn't understood a thing. You pulled away, still standing close to her, she then put your face in between her hands. "Kaipaan sinua, kaksos Y/N." (I missed you, twin Y/N)

"Please don't tell me this is some long lost love reunion." Yelena groaned in misery. You looked at her cluelessly, hoping she'd also pick up your silent plead to help you out in this situation. "Don't look at me! You were the one who rushed me here and hugged her like no there's no tomorrow."

The girl next to you cleared her throat before speaking up, this time finally in a language you all could understand. "Ohh right.. I'm sorry I forgot you don't understand Finnish anymore." Anymore?? What the hell did that mean? "We don't have much time, I'll explain everything later. Twin Y/N do tell me, have you found your one and only?"

You blinked at her. "My what?" She cursed in Finnish, huffing and what seemed beating herself up about something. "Your, what humans would call here, Soulmate." You didn't question her 'what humans' and just shook your head. "I thought I did but no."

"Tell me, what happened?" Her gaze turned extremly intense, you started to feel uncomfortable. "Well we started to fight at one point and then she got a head injury and et voila we were divorced."

Yelena had enough of this conversation, the pulled you backwards and stood in front of you, giving the other girl a death stare. "Whatever you're doing to Y/N has to stop right now or otherwise I'll beat you up." You knew she was dead serious about it, your sister in law was super protective over you. "I'm not doing anything, it's all her doing. We do have to stop talking so slowly, we need to hurry."

"Why hurry? I don't understand?" She visibly got more restless which stresses you out. "You're out of time soon. We have to find your soulmate now." You shock your head at the lady and her crazy words. "I'm sorry this has to be done." And with one finger snap, both of you were gone.

Tags: @iamthescarlettwitch , @dark-hunter16 , @marvel-fan-2021 , @myfturn , @natsxwife , @wandanats-goodgirl , @supaheroine , @00alycia , @xxsekhmet , @franfrolix , @lonewalker17 , @newawakening9 , @marvelwomen-simp , @automaticwizardnerd , @wifeofnatasharomanoff

[changingplumbob]

Little Tiny Update

Details below the cut but trigger free version I was busy today and will likely be busy the rest of the week. I've got stuff queued but eventually there might be a few days gap. Please keep sending me the asks, I will get around to them when I can. Possibly be slower responding to things just because they take brainpower. Much love

Results of the vet visit for my fluffly sister, the cat, today (Tuesday) show she has kidney disease. My IBS nausea was intense all day and taking her there and back took energy. Tomorrow (Wednesday) I'm getting up early to take her in and they're going to flush her with fluids to try get better kidney numbers. Normally it would happen over 2 days but here our Thursday is ANZAC day so public holiday so vets closed. So I'm glad she won't have to stay there overnight, don't want her thinking she's got another long cattery stay, but it does mean a whole pile of busses tomorrow, thank the lord they let us take cats in carriers on buses here now. Then Friday it'll be another trip in for repeat bloodwork and discussion of how we can change her diet to help.

Probably still in a bit of shock, the vet was saying her physical examination looked good apart from her weight loss from her reduced eating. She has to stop the arthritis pain meds which I'm hoping improves her appetite. The vet doesn't seem to think we need to think about palliative care just yet thank goodness so fingers crossed we'll still have some time with her.

Friends what would really help me is if your posts contain pet illness (realistic illness not the ones that give them glowing red noses etc) or pet death you put a trigger warning and/or put the death below a cut. Scrolling through and seeing a cat passing on is not what I need right now, even if it is a simple sims representation. Obviously I can't tell you how to do your content but it would be appreciated.