#but it’s natural. it comes with the territory

[letsquestjess]

The Bad Batch and Crushes (TBB x GN!Reader)

Summary: The Batch have a crush on you, and want to tell you how they feel.

Warnings: None.

-- -- -- -- --

Hunter

Hunter gets fussy when he develops a crush, even more so than when he is around his siblings. Throughout the day, he will check up on you, asking if you need anything, if you slept well, and find any excuse to be in your presence. You often chuckle at his worrying of you, and you assure him you’re fine, but the one time you gently lay your hand on his arm while reassuring him, his heart skips a beat and he freezes. You’re a little too busy to notice, but Hunter is having a profound moment of realisation. He has a crush on you and there is nothing he can do to change it. 

The situation had come to a point where he wished to get everything out in the open, but he wasn’t sure. You were fleeing the Empire, and it wasn’t exactly the most opportune moment for any kind of romantic involvement. However, the more he considered the circumstances, the more he understood there may never be a perfect moment. He resolved to tell you when you were next alone. It took several weeks before the opportunity arose, when the team made repairs outside the ship and the two of you were tasked with monitoring the cockpit readings and ensuring that none of the levels ventured into dangerous territory. Despite his doubts and nervousness urging him to reconsider, he overcame them and began the conversation as smoothly as he could. As he relaxed, talk flowed, and he shared some amusing remarks he knew would make you smile. When he confessed his crush, he anxiously observed your reaction, hoping you wouldn’t pull away or reject him. Much to his relief and surprise, you confessed you felt the same way and had secretly wondered how long it would take for him to realise your affection for him. 

Echo

Echo has had crushes on others in the past, particularly during his early days as an ARC trooper, but what he feels for you is more than just a crush. He always manages to bring a smile to your face and ensures you have a drink and regular meals. He takes to sharing things with you he knows will make you happy, such as books, holo-movies, and artwork that reminds him of you. 

While you were assisting him with the dishes after dinner one evening, he inquired if you had eaten enough and offered to make you a dessert if you wanted some. He rambled a little, asking if you’d had enough to drink and if there was something specific that you might like. Jokingly, you remarked that with how attentive he was, anybody would think he had a crush on you. He posed the question of how you would respond if he told you he did, speaking hypothetically, of course, but his serious tone suggested this was anything but speculative. You were caught off guard because you’ve been interested in Echo for quite some time. Assuming your silence meant rejection, he kindly reassured you that there was no pressure to respond. He couldn’t understand why he said what he did... and then you confessed your feelings for him as well. He made an attempt at three different sentences, each one faltering as his mind caught up with what you had said. When it finally sank in, he made sure you were certain. Without a single second of hesitation, you gave him a bashful nod and the two of you spent the rest of the evening discussing your feelings and making the decision to embark on a relationship.

Wrecker

Wrecker does not do subtlety. He tries, but it’s just not in his nature. He enjoys being near you and despite the teasing from his brothers, he will happily take any chance to assist you, all while making you laugh until your sides hurt. His only desire is to see you smile. He is interested in a relationship with you, and has often wondered what it would be like, but he is unsure about your wishes in that area and is afraid of making you uncomfortable.

There came a time when you began to notice what was going on. You suspected Wrecker’s crush on you, Crosshair and Hunter had both confirmed as much, but you wanted to hear it from the man himself. In truth, you also liked him, and you couldn’t keep evading the subject. You made sure that you were both alone before you asked him if he might have a crush on you. Despite feeling sheepish, he was completely honest and admitted that he did. Before you could respond, he hurriedly reassured you it was all right if you didn’t feel the same way and that he valued your friendship above any romantic feelings he might have. Seeing the sweet relief on his face upon learning that you felt the same way about him, you couldn’t help but pull him into a tight embrace. A true romantic at heart, Wrecker instantly squeezed you back and nuzzled against your hair. Get ready for the most enchanting relationship you’ve ever experienced, because all he wants to do now is fill every single one of your days with love.

Crosshair

This man despises having a crush. It’s not just about the uncertainty of the other person reciprocating his feelings, but also about his own internal struggle. He convinces himself that you will never feel the same, that he is not suitable for you, that you deserve someone better, and he starts to spiral. 

It was definitely a surprise when he suddenly revealed his feelings. Following an extended period on the ship, you both decided to take a walk, wandering in complete silence. He was often quiet, but not to this extent. You checked he was okay, and the words poured out of him with no restraint. Before allowing any more negative thoughts to persuade him he had no chance with you, he had to remove them from his mind and get a clear answer. Despite being taken aback by the confession, you reassured him you shared the same feelings, but hesitated to say anything before because you were unsure about his feelings. The slight chuckle he gave you was raspy and low, but it was so wonderfully him you couldn’t help but smile. After spending the evening by a crystal-clear river, the two of you decided to take your budding relationship one step at a time and venture into that unknown together.

Tech

Tech doesn’t really notice his feelings for you until one specific moment, when you are assisting him with a project and make him laugh with a clever comment. It’s like a light switch goes on in his head and every thought is occupied by you. He attempts to focus on the amusing tale you’re sharing, but he finds himself captivated by the way your lips move and the subtle gestures you make while speaking, and he desperately needs to hold you. Damn, he wants this feeling forever. 

He kept it locked away for a long while. It was not practical and could jeopardise your safety. He was a fugitive clone evading the Empire, his situation couldn’t have been more dangerous. However, he had a genuine affection for you. You provided him with a sense of security, and he felt desired and cherished, all those extraordinary things those cheesy holo-novels spoke of. One night, while engrossed in his latest project, he confessed everything, using his tinkering as a distraction to prevent himself from retracting the words he wanted to express. After he finished speaking, a quietness descended upon both of you, and he questioned aloud whether pursuing a relationship would truly be the wisest choice given your circumstances, even if you felt the same way. As you moved closer, asking him what he would say if you said yes, he caved. He wanted to be with you, and he was unwilling to deny you both a chance at happiness for the sake of practicality. 

[littleredwing89]

FAMOUS [PART SEVEN]

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Summary: As the camera started rolling, you could feel Jason’s gaze burning into you. The male model’s hands grazed your waist as he leaned in for the shot, and you could practically hear Jason grinding his teeth.

Warnings: Some coercive nature, nothing too extreme. Language. Friendly banter.

A/N: Sending all my love to you wonderful readers & please enjoy the next chapter - Elle xoxo ❤️❤️

———

NO MEANS NO

———

The drive to the set was quiet, tension filling the air like static. You drummed your fingers nervously on the edge of your seat, stealing glances at Jason every now and then. He hadn’t said much since you left the apartment, but you could feel the weight of his presence, steady and solid. The shoot today was different—more provocative than you were used to—and the idea of it was gnawing at your nerves.

“You good?” Jason’s deep voice broke through your thoughts, startling you.

You gave him a tight smile, nodding. “Yeah, just… you know. A bit nervous.”

Jason glanced over at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “It’s just a shoot. You’ve done this a million times.”

You sighed, chewing on your bottom lip. “I know. But this one’s a bit more… raunchy.”

Jason’s grip on the steering wheel tightened imperceptibly, his jaw clenching. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know, but it’s part of the job.” You shrugged, trying to play it off, though the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle. “It’ll be fine. Just… more skin than usual.”

Jason didn’t say anything, but you could tell he wasn’t thrilled. His protective side had always been strong, but when it came to you, it seemed to go into overdrive. As much as you appreciated it, there were times—like now—when it felt like too much—this was just your job. But you couldn’t deny that a part of you found comfort in knowing he was there, watching your back.

By the time you reached the set, the pit in your stomach had grown, but you pushed it down, slipping into professional mode. The lights, the crew, the chaos—it was all familiar territory. You could do this.

Jason lingered on the outskirts, his eyes following your every move as the makeup artist prepped you and the director went over the shots. He looked more on edge than usual, and you could tell it was because of the male model standing way too close, rehearsing a scene that involved a little too much contact for Jason’s liking.

As the camera started rolling, you could feel Jason’s gaze burning into you. The male model’s hands grazed your waist as he leaned in for the shot, and you could practically hear Jason grinding his teeth. His jealousy was palpable, a simmering tension that made your own nerves feel even more frayed.

After a few more takes, the director finally called for a break. You stepped off the stage, relief washing over you—until the director approached.

“Alright, for this next shot, we’re gonna need you to strip down to your underwear,” he said, his tone casual as if he was asking you to grab coffee.

You froze. “I’m not comfortable with that.”

The director sighed, clearly annoyed. “Come on, everyone does it. It’s just for the video.”

You shook your head firmly. “I said no.”

Before you could take another step back, he grabbed your arm, his grip tight. “Don’t be difficult. You’re not that special.”

That’s when everything happened in a blur. Jason was there in an instant, his hand locking around the director’s wrist, pulling him away from you with a force that left the director stumbling. Jason’s face was a mask of barely-contained fury.

“The lady said no,” Jason growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You stepped back, heart pounding, but the moment Jason was between you and the director, you felt a surge of relief. He stood like a wall, his broad shoulders blocking you from the world, and in that moment, you were grateful for every inch of that protectiveness.

The director’s face twisted in anger. “You can’t just—”

“I don’t care who you think you are,” Jason interrupted, his voice icy. “She’s not doing anything she doesn’t want to do. Got it?”

The director straightened, his chest puffing out as he tried to regain control of the situation. “I’ll have you fired.”

Jason smirked, his eyes cold. “Try it.”

You stepped forward, placing a hand on Jason’s arm, feeling the tension rippling through his muscles. “Jay, it’s fine. Let’s just go.”

Jason’s gaze flicked down to you, softening slightly, but his grip on the director didn’t loosen. “He shouldn’t have touched you,” Jason muttered, still seething.

The director huffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Whatever. Go ahead and leave, both of you. You’re done here.”

Jason released him, stepping back but keeping himself between you and the director as he led you out of the set. The ride home was tense, Jason’s knuckles white on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Neither of you spoke, the adrenaline still thrumming in your veins.

———

When you finally reached your apartment, Jason hovered by the door, guilt flickering across his face. “I shouldn’t have blown up like that,” he muttered, glancing down.

You shook your head, stepping closer. “No, Jason, thank you. No one’s ever stood up for me like that before.”

Jason looked at you, his eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world felt quiet, the tension between you from earlier lingering but now mixed with something else—something deeper.

“I’m just doing my job,” Jason said softly, but his usual cocky tone was absent.

You smiled, your hand brushing lightly against his arm. “Well, you’re pretty good at it.”

Jason’s lips twitched into a small, rare smile as he looked down at you. “I just… I don’t like seeing people take advantage of you.”

His voice was low, rough with emotion he wasn’t used to showing. The space between you felt impossibly small, your heart pounding in your chest as you took in the way he was looking at you—protective, but something more. Something that made your breath hitch.

Your hand lingered on his arm, fingers brushing his bicep, the tension between you thickening. Jason took a step closer, closing the distance, his breath warm against your skin. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and for a moment, everything around you faded. It was just the two of you, standing in your dimly lit apartment, the air charged with unspoken words and possibilities.

Just as Jason leaned in, your phone buzzed loudly in your pocket, jolting you both out of the moment.

You blinked, startled, quickly pulling it out. Harley’s name flashed on the screen, her timing as impeccable as ever. You let out a sigh, holding the phone up for Jason to see. “It’s Harley.”

Jason exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a grin that was both amused and frustrated. “Of course it is.”

You answered the call, trying to ignore the heat still simmering between you and Jason. “Hey, Harley.”

“Babydoll!” Harley’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Just checkin’ in to see if you’re okay after that scumbag director tried to pull a fast one on ya. I swear, next time we’re gonna break his kneecaps, Gotham-style!”

You chuckled softly, glancing over at Jason, who was standing by the door now, arms crossed but eyes still locked on you. “I’m fine, Harley. Jason handled it.”

“Good ol’ Jaybird,” Harley chimed in, her voice loud enough for Jason to hear. “Always knowin’ how to make a statement. Anyway, just wanted to make sure you’re alright. Ivy’s threatening to plant rotten prawns in that director’s office. We’ll keep you posted!”.

You thanked her and hung up, sliding your phone back into your pocket. Jason’s gaze was still on you, but the intensity of the moment had been interrupted. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly still on edge from earlier.

“Well, Harley has your back too, it seems,” Jason muttered with a soft smirk, though his eyes were still stormy with everything unsaid.

You walked over to him, standing close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “Seems like I’ve got a whole team looking out for me.”

Jason’s expression softened. “You do. Always.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the evening hanging in the air. Finally, Jason exhaled, his hand brushing your arm lightly before he stepped back. “I should go. You need rest after today.”

You nodded, though part of you wished he would stay. “Yeah, You’re probably right,” you said softly, even though you didn’t want him to leave. The warmth of his presence was comforting, and the thought of being alone after everything that happened on set felt unsettling.

Jason lingered by the door, hesitating for a moment. He looked at you, his expression unreadable, a mix of concern and something more that neither of you seemed ready to voice. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Thanks, Jay.”

He took a step toward the door, hand resting on the knob, but before he could open it, he turned back. His eyes met yours again, and for a split second, the tension from earlier resurfaced, thick and undeniable.

“Listen,” Jason began, his voice lower now, as if he was struggling to find the right words. “About earlier… I didn’t mean to overstep. I just—” He paused, jaw tightening. “I care about you. I don’t want anyone hurting you or pushing you around.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you took a step closer to him. “I know, Jason. And I’m really glad you were there.”

For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything between you hanging in the air like a taut string about to snap. Jason’s eyes flicked down to your lips, but instead of leaning in, Jason just nodded, his usual cocky demeanour softened by something more vulnerable. “Get some rest,” he said, voice gruff. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving you standing in the quiet of your apartment, heart still racing from the closeness of the moment you’d almost shared.

As the door clicked shut, you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence and the unspoken promise of something more hanging in the air.

Whatever was building between you and Jason—it wasn’t over yet.

————

Jason sat on the edge of a bench outside the coffee shop, absently stirring a cold brew in his hand. The morning sun was just starting to peek through the clouds, casting a warm glow on the world around him. There was a nagging feeling of conflict settled in his stomach.

“Earth to Jay!” Roy called, approaching with his usual exuberance, a bright grin plastered on his face. “You look like you just got hit by a truck. Or maybe you finally got your ass kicked by a squirrel?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Funny as always, Roy.”

“What’s eating you? It’s not like you to be so… contemplative.” Roy leaned against the railing, his posture relaxed but his eyes keen.

“I think I’m falling for her,” Jason admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Roy’s eyes widened in exaggerated shock. “Wait, you mean you’re actually having feelings? That’s a plot twist I wasn’t prepared for!”

“Shut up,” Jason muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean it. I really like her, but I’m supposed to be protecting her, not… I don’t know, trying to date her…I’m not right for her anyway...”

“Ah, the classic ‘I can’t love you because I’m a tortured soul with a dark past’ dilemma,” Roy said, shaking his head as he feigned seriousness. “How original”.

“Dude, it’s not a joke,” Jason snapped. “What if something happens to her because I’m too close? I can’t stand the thought of her getting hurt.”

Roy raised an eyebrow, the teasing tone softening. “You’re a good guy, Jay. You’re going to protect her regardless of whether you’re dating her or not. And besides, wouldn’t you rather have her close? You know, where you can keep an eye on her and shower her with affection?”

“Right, because that’s not going to complicate things at all,” Jason retorted, crossing his arms.

“Complicated? Please, that’s the foundation of every great romance!” Roy grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “Besides, have you seen how she looks at you? Like you’re the last cookie in the jar, and she’s ready to fight anyone for a bite.”

Jason couldn’t help but chuckle at the image. “That’s… oddly specific.”

“Hey, I’ve been known to get creative with my analogies,” Roy shrugged, then turned serious again. “Look, if you really care about her, you owe it to yourself to figure this out. Don’t push her away just because you’re scared. That’s the kind of thing that leads to a lifetime of regret.”

“Yeah, but what if I screw it all up?” Jason sighed, looking away. “What if I’m not enough?”

Roy placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Look, you’re a total dork, but you’re also one of the best guys I know. If she makes you happy, go for it. Just make sure you bring your A-game. I expect romantic gestures, flowers, maybe a serenade?”

Jason laughed, shaking his head. “No serenades. I’d rather face a horde of angry thugs.”

“Suit yourself, but just know that I’ll be expecting updates. And I’ll also be taking notes for my own love life,” Roy said, grinning. “So, when’s the first date?”

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “But I’ll figure it out. Just… thanks for the pep talk, man.”

“Anytime, buddy. Just remember: love is like coffee. Sometimes it’s bitter, sometimes it’s sweet, but in the end, it’ll keep you awake at night thinking about it.”

Jason chuckled, shaking his head again. “You really are full of shit, you know that?”

“Yep! But at least I’m your shit,” Roy said, winking. “Now, go make a move, Romeo.”

***

[eclipse-has-come]

- Every step you take, I'll be watching you

part 1

A/N: Hello, I’m back with another part! Once again, i have no beta reader and i’m not a native english speaker so there might be some weird mistakes 😭 This chapter is mostly John’s past and his feelings about reader! I thought it was important to see things from his perspective, i hope you enjoy! Warnings: There are desriptions of murder, guns and war in this chapter (but that kinda comes with the territory). John might come off as a bit creepy but he's just a lonely guy :(( also parasocial relationship vibes

When John Price first died, he didn’t even realise what had happened until he heard his footman’s yell. Poor Kyle, seeing his captain with a bullet between his eyes must’ve been quite the traumatic experience.

Price wasn’t expecting the general to go this far but- well, he was playing with fire wasn’t he? Three years ago, in 1857, when the rebellion started, the queen sent out her best soldiers. John was included in the bunch. Loyal to the crown as he was, he rushed to battle, defending his country.

During his service, he got acquainted with three other men who were unfortunate enough (they wouldn’t agree with that statement) to be placed under his command. Simon Riley (a man so mysterious that one could even call him a ghost), John Mactavish (a Scottish warrior with a loud disposition) and Kyle Garrick (a young man looking to prove himself). The four of them bonded, ‘brothers in arms’ - that’s what Mactavish called them anyway.

Half a year into their service, a skirmish changed the trajectory of their lives forever. General Shepherd’s poor decision led to Johnny (“Aye, with the two of us, one of you’s bound to make a mistake callin’ us nae? Call me Johnny!”) getting heavily injured. ‘Two days’ the medics said, that’s how much the poor man had to live. 

In the end, he spent two months in the nurse’s care.

By some miracle the bullet just grazed his skull. Captain John Price didn’t consider himself particularly hotheaded, better to be patient and make calculated choices than to end up with regrets or a bullet through his heart. He was raised to be obedient so even as a child John had great respect for and would never dare to deliberately disobey his superiors. This, however, was a step too far - even for him.

For the first time in his life, Price cut his strings and made his own choice.

When Johnny was cleared by the nurses, they did not join Shepherd back on the battlefield. Instead, John took his men and sailed back to Britain. All of them received a less-than-happy letter from the General but it was easy to ignore (at first) with how peaceful their life got.

Simon took on the role of the cook, his previous experience of being a butcher making him quite an extraordinary fit for the role. His dishes would make anyone salivate, they were always perfectly seasoned and prepared, Kyle would say that Simon makes meals fit for the queen.

Johnny became the Head Gardener, as the injury caused him too much trouble to do anything physically taxing. Everything man made was either too loud or too bright, so the peacefulness of nature was a great reprieve. So with the help of the Scot, the desolate and grey garden soon took on a new look, filled with lush greenery and colourful flowers.

With his need to please and earn praise, Kyle made a wonderful footman. He knew John’s schedule down to the smallest details, such as only taking his tea at 7:06 sharp or refusing to eat anything other than an English breakfast as his first meal of the day. He would accompany his lord on any outings, his handsome looks and open nature made it easy for him to strike up new connections or better deals.

Price would never admit it but he had grown quite fond of his men. He had accepted that he would never have a family back when he first joined the army (what woman would wish to live in constant uncertainty?) so when the boys came along, he felt as if he suddenly gained three sons he never would have expected to have. The once too-quiet-and-empty halls took on a life of their own and everywhere you went you’d hear Scottish yells or quiet grunts.

That happiness- it made him soft. Too soft, so much so that he failed to realise just how fucked he truly was. Turns out Shepherd wasn’t too happy with just sending them a few scolding words. No, the general was much too cruel to let them off easy.

The fog was heavy the morning It happened. When John lit his cigar by the window, he couldn’t see anything but grey for miles; Kyle knocked on his door and informed him that breakfast was served. The routine went as usual, thus it made the next thing that happened even more shocking.

When Price sat down at his desk ready to read the newspaper in peace, he was greeted by a gun at the back of his head.

“John.”

He recognised the voice immediately.

“General” Putting down the paper gently, he folded his hands on his lap. He heard the perpetrator behind him grip the gin tighter.

“You couldn’t have truly expected to get away with it- right?” Shepherd paused, as if contemplating what’s left to say. “You were better than this John.”

Price merely hummed, not willing to entertain the other man. “We both were”

“If you want to beg for your life, go ahead, I’ll gladly wait.” 

Price let out an amused huff.

“Wouldn’t do me any good.”

The general stayed quiet and raised his gun higher; John heard a loud shot and then-

Silence.

-

His funeral was beautiful, his boys made sure of it. The only ones present were them but still, that was more than enough. The coffin was surrounded by flowers, John laughed about the fact that it was probably the first time he ever received any.

His first week as a ghost consisted of him following his men, making sure the estate was in good hands. They took their duties seriously, sometimes they even spoke to him as if he were there with them. He always replied but- well, no one ever heard him.

When the boys started getting older, he would try to make their lives easier. Move the cane closer to Johnny’s bed while he sleeps, rattling the cupboard to make sure Simon remembers to take his pills or even picking up items since Kyle can barely bend down with his bad back.

He knew they couldn’t see him but they still thanked him out loud every time. It’s as if they could feel his presence, as if they knew he was there, watching over them. His heart was happy and when their time came, he waited with bated breath for them to join him but-

They never did.

Price was left alone. His men moved on but he couldn’t seem to do the same; and with them gone, his purpose was lost too. He spent years occupying the empty home, thinking of a solution. 

No one bought his home after the late soldiers departed from this world, he wondered whether that was because of who it belonged to or just because of the sorry state it was in after the boys died.

Years of lone walks and no one to talk with made John realise that being a ghost was plain lonely. He felt miserable wandering the empty halls and knowing that he might never see his close friends again made it even more difficult. 

Losing track of time proved easy in such a desolate building. His only companions were bugs crawling on the walls and his own thoughts, he had no way of keeping up with the world. Not that he really wanted to, his time had been over for a long, long time.

Finally, after an unknown number of years, a man and his family joined him in his residence. He overheard that it was now 1939 and a second World War started (there was a first one?). John’s first instinct was to pack up and fight but- he wouldn’t be much help in his state. He could already imagine bullets passing straight through him and hitting some poor sod behind him.

John watched as the head of the family left for war, wishing it was him instead as the wife and son cried after him. The scene broke his heart and he knew that if he had gotten married and started a family, this is what it would have looked like. He knew he made the right choice to not start one back then, as he could never imagine himself leaving his hypothetical wife and child behind. 

In the end, the man never came back. John was the sole man to witness the son grow up, start his own family and continue the legacy.

Time passed and before Price knew, he had witnessed generations live and die in his home. He didn’t know how much he missed the hustle and bustle in his home until it came back. The chains around his heart lightened their load when he heard the giggles of children and conversation in the kitchen.

Over the years, he tried to subtly signal his presence to the different residents of his home but all of them were met with fear or disbelief and so, he stopped. He would rather have the families be comfortable and unaware of him than be left alone again, his heart couldn’t take it. 

The years passed, the world was slowly growing too unrecognisable for John. New inventions seemed to appear every day but he could still barely comprehend the existence of phones (and they were invented back in his time!).

The latest owner of his building was the lone descendant of the poor lad who never came back from war, a grumpy old man (who rivalled even John with his impressive moustache) that was convinced the house was haunted. He wasn’t wrong of course but John didn’t purposely make his presence known so it was curious that the elderly gentleman was sure of his existence.

He rarely visited because of that fact, causing the place to slowly grow into poor condition. Mold-covered walls and broken floorboards was an everyday sight now, which saddened Price greatly. Although the residence hadn’t been truly his for a long time, he was still the one that built it; and he would much rather see it fall into capable hands than to grow into disarray.

His silent fuming seemed to have been answered when a lone woman entered through the front door one day. Still young but too old to be the old man's grandchild, so who was she? Price was both curious and cautious, as the owner hadn’t visited for a while before her arrival.

The beginning of their relationship (if you could even call it that) was rocky, to say the least. 

At first, John was convinced she was a squatter and was determined to run her out, scaring her by creaking the stairs and pushing objects off of tables and desks (he did however feel a smidge of guilt when something shattered in one of the boxes he nudged; he was taught to never disrespect women's belongings after all).

It was only after she bought the paint and tools, that he realized what was really happening. The poor girl had bought his home and was intending to renovate it back to its original state. Instantly his guilt skyrocketed to insane heights, never before had he felt this embarrassed for misjudging a person. 

John had a new mission now: to help the wonderful lady as much as he can; starting with trying to assist her with her projects. What John didn't expect is the he seemed to fumble like a school boy with a crush. The woman was beautiful, with her lively eyes and quiet remarks. He particularly enjoyed her habit of talking to herself, it made him feel as if he was a part of this, as if he was real, at least to her. 

His crush admiration caused him to become soft for her, evident in his inability to focus. When he tried to move the heavy paint can closer to the wall, he got his foot stuck in the handle and proceeded to fling the whole thing on the wall while trying to get it out- not his proudest moment, he admits. He was even more embarrassed when the lady seemed discouraged after seeing the mess.

After a few more tries which ended in disaster (lodging a stray pebble into the front window- plus a few others he'd rather not name), he decided that his attempts to help her were only making her life harder. He ceased his unhelpful ministrations and decided to observe her progress, silently encouraging her.

She made quick work of the place and before he knew it, the first floor turned into a cozy antique (well, modern to Price) store. John walked through the aisles of beautiful trinkets, they reminded him so much of his previous life and how it used to be.

He didn't realise it until now but he missed his past more than he thought; years of loneliness made him numb to just how good he had it and what he lost.

This quiet epiphany gave him food for thought, about how he didn't wish to be alone once more. Sure, the families filled the home but they didn’t truly care (or even know) about him. He wanted someone to acknowledge his presence, to treat him like a person and not a silent observer.

He wanted it to be her.

The woman who stumbled her way into the empty house and made it her own, she didn’t know it but it meant so much to him. Over the months of her getting used to the new environmet, he had grown fond of her quirky nature. He didn’t even know her name and yet, he knew exactly how she took her tea or how much time she spends on laundry since she doesn’t enjoy doing it.

He felt a bit guilty that she was unaware of his silent observation but his happiness outweighed that. Besides, he would apologise to her soon enough.

He won't- no, he can't take another hundred years of loneliness. He promised himself he wouldn't interfere with her affairs anymore but the urge is too strong. She wormed her way into his head and heart with her endearing determination and kind eyes. He knows she’d make a good friend.

He made his move a week later. The poor lady was tired after seven days of hard work ('That should be your husband's job Darlin’.’ he thought to himself) and decided to enjoy a nice hot shower. Now, John is nothing but a gentleman; sure, he might be entering a woman's bathroom but it's for a good cause! He’ll make it up to her anyway.

He had been selfless his whole life: serving his queen and putting his men's safety above his. His afterlife was the same, consisting of helping his home's tennants and being a quiet observer. He was done pretending to live in the past, living in the moment is all that matters to him now. His whole life he wanted to have a domestic life but his sense of responsibility wouldn’t let him commit to anything other than war.

John is tired; tired of being a leader, tired of being a mere trick of the eye and most importantly, tired of being alone.

He just hopes the kind woman will see it that way too, he thinks to himself as he writes on the fogged up mirror.

[manchasama]

Idle thought about King of Ghosts Danny and another interpretation of what that role is.

So a common theme I've been enjoying lately is that ghosts have a desire/need to brawl. It's a nice twist so that fan favorite ghosts can be on the "good" side, be an ally to Danny, despite the fighting they've done in the past.

Another idea is that ghosts are very territorial. They all have their haunts in the ghost zone. They are protective over their haunts and those that live in it. A full ghost would not be able to change their haunt, and losing it would be devastating, damaging, and might even end them.

Also there is Right of Combat succession idea, where by defeating Pariah Dark (either as in the show, or through a seen/unseen rematch), Danny has the right or automatically becomes the King of Ghosts.

And I was just thinking, what if the brawling was the duty of the King. What if the King was supposed to ensure the health of their subjects by engaging in these fights regularly, to give the ghosts an outlet as well as be a safe target (on account of being the strongest). Because Pariah was both a tyrant, then absent for so long, the denizens of the Infinite Realms are actually in a very unhealthy, manic state.

The reason they come out swinging as it were, is that they have been driven half mad due to the lack of the King and outlet for their fighting instincts. They can't battle each other healthily, because that goes against their territorial haunt nature. Those kind of fights are not outlets, those are real attacks on their very beings.

Then this little half-ghost starts standing up to them, starts battling them in a catch and release manor (which while novel, is similar to what the King should do). Perhaps Danny was already unconsciously moving into the role of King before he ever made an "official" move on it. Perhaps that is another reason why his rogue gallery is willing to support him being King, as he stepped up when no one else did, when no one else could.

[suchawrathfullamb]

GET THE WILL GRAHAM VIBE

Since so many of you are obsessed with the idea of being Will and dressing like him ain't working out, because it's not about aesthetics, but about aura...Here's an analysis of his energetic configurations, with a practical advice on how to actually embody that vibe:

The first thing to understand is that we analyze the energetic components of characters based on the actor's charts, because if we look at life as one big play, and theater/film being a micro reflection of that concept, then the director or creator of the movie/play/show acts as a god, casting a specific actor for a specific role. Therefore we do not need to know a fictional character's date of birth or anything of the sort, as the actors are always being cast in characters that mirror the spiritual stage they embody.

Hugh Dancy shares the same archetype of Jared Padalecki, hence why Will and Sam have almost identical arcs: fighting with two sides of their nature, emphasizing the dualistic nature of reality (good and bad, wrong and right), going through tumultuous and torturous trials, and having an abiding love for someone that drives their actions. They also share funny similarities such as loving dogs, wearing plaid, being intellectual and having hair that calls attention lol.

They both have "special abilities" that are a burden to them.

Both Hugh and Jared were born under a specific Lunar energy that is ruled by Rudra.

The name "Rudra" itself comes from the Sanskrit root "rud," meaning "to cry" or "to howl." This suggests a deity connected to emotions, particularly pain, anguish, and a primal longing.

It's not at all random that both characters are known for crying, suffering and even Will always being "soaked"!

Sam and Will were transformed through pain, and Rudra symbolizes both the terror and beauty of destruction that leads to transformation.

And his association with grief and destruction gives him a complex and paradoxical nature: he is fierce yet tender, destructive yet deeply compassionate.

This particular constellation is called Ardra, the "star of sorrow," symbolized by a teardrop and represents the stormy aspects of life, including intense emotions, challenges, and upheaval. This constellation brings forward the power of Rudra, channeling his energies of anger, grief, and eventually purification.

Ardra is under the influence of Rahu, the "head of the dragon", and is a shadow planet, often associated with desires, illusions, materialism, and obsessions. According to myth, Rahu was originally an asura (demon) who, during the churning of the ocean (Samudra Manthan), managed to steal a sip of the nectar of immortality by disguising himself among the gods. When Vishnu discovered this, he beheaded Rahu, but since Rahu had tasted the nectar, his head became immortal. Rahu represents the severed head, while his counterpart, Ketu, represents the body.

Rahu symbolizes the relentless drive to achieve one’s desires, often leading one into uncharted or forbidden territories. He is associated with illusion (maya), hidden ambitions, taboo-breaking, and transformation.

Under Rahu’s rule, Ardra becomes a place where the individual seeks knowledge and experience beyond the traditional boundaries. This can manifest as a search for the truth behind illusions or a confrontation with uncomfortable aspects of life.

Rahu is a seeker, often looking for what is hidden or forbidden. Under Rahu’s influence, Ardra natives are known for their quest for truth, curiosity about life’s mysteries, and a tendency to probe deeply, even if it means challenging established norms.

Rahu’s energy in Ardra encourages the exploration of the shadow, things that are hidden, feared, or unaccepted. People influenced by Ardra often have the courage to face difficult truths, both within themselves and in the world, which can lead to personal growth and transformation.

Those with a strong Ardra influence may challenge societal expectations, explore unconventional paths, or engage in activities that push boundaries.

Together, Rahu and Ardra form a nakshatra that is both turbulent and transformative, focusing on a path where one must confront illusions, fears, and inner darkness to attain deeper understanding and freedom. Rahu’s influence on Ardra makes this nakshatra a place of karmic learning and powerful change, where the storms of life (symbolized by Rudra) bring both destruction and the possibility of rebirth.

In this way, Ardra and Rahu teach the lesson that confronting and dismantling our illusions, fears, and attachments is essential for spiritual growth, even if it involves pain or hardship. Through the intense journey of Ardra, Rahu ultimately leads to the breaking of old patterns and the emergence of a clearer, more authentic self.

What you really want to exude though, is Will's magnetism that comes from him embodying duality so perfectly (hence the "gender envy" you guys talk about). You want that yin-yang, magnetic aura.

Well, you can get that by chanting the HRIM mantra.

Chanting "Hrim" can make a person more magnetic due to the mantra's deep association with Shakti—the divine feminine energy that embodies attraction, creativity, and transformative power.

When chanted, Hrim produces a sound frequency that subtly shifts one's energetic field, making it more harmonious and balanced. This resonance aligns the practitioner with cosmic forces, increasing their natural charm and appeal, as they are attuned to the fundamental energy of creation and attraction.

By connecting with the energy of maya and transcending illusions, Hrim helps one cultivate inner radiance or tejas (spiritual glow). This inner radiance becomes visible to others as an attractive, magnetic quality that draws people in on an almost intangible level, as they sense a vibrant, vital energy.

This mantra is amazing for anxiety, also. It generates a sense of space/void so it clears the mind.

Also, his expression number is 3, deriving from 21, which means he embodies major arcana The World and The Magician, birthing the Empress.

The Empress is the verb, the ternary, plenitude, nature, fecundity, generation in the three worlds. She is wisdom. Discernment. Idealism. Intellectual solar influence. It is the arcane of Sacred Magic, an instrument of divine power.

The Magician is the Creative Impulse and The World is the closing, the manifestation being completed. So we have, essentially, the creative impulse of completion that generates sacred magic. This manifests an individual who exudes a sort of surreal magnetism that is very tender and feminine in nature, at the same time that it triggers a feeling of wanting that individual's dominance over you, but not through force, but through love/care. Which explains why most fans want to "baby" Will but also crave for moments where he acts unhinged.

[chasing-faith-and-fate]

hello! Sorry to ask, but could you give me an idea of what a taker is? Sorry, I’m a bit new around here and probably wasn’t around for the explanation

Yeah sure!

So takers are semi (read very very loosely) based off of mythical creatures I grew up with such as Huldra and Nøkke!

What Takers do is that they inhabit the hollowed out skins of the dead, either after they've passed themselves or by a Taker killing them. They strive to cover their whole body (which is a black void like being that comes in whatever shape they desire) if they cannot cover their whole body with one skin, they find other bodies to take from to create a patchwork.

They only take what they need, and leave the rest for other Takers.

They're very allergic to water, a bit of dew won't do anything but if they step in a puddle the skin they inhabit with start to corrode, and if water touches the void part itself- they will start smoking and burning away. This is the only way to kill them.

Takers are not intelligent, they're not sapient, they're barely sentient at all.

The only feeling they really have is anger, greed, and very rarely something akin to fear. They mirror and copy living cats if they somehow manage to live among them.

A Takers one goal is to live like sentient beings, to be a part of a community- not because of loneliness, but because that's simply what they do. It's what they've evolved to do. This is also why they're sticking around the clans, because that's the biggest collection of communal life in the area for miles upon miles. (Good thing as they could wreck human populations very quickly if given the chance).

They learn and grow as any species does. They've learned not to go after the younger members of a species, or the very old ones, because if a Taker has taken someone, that someone isn't alive anymore and therefore doesn't grow or die naturally.

There's a lot of Takers stuck in the rift because the older days the clans threw their taken members down there because they couldn't otherwise be killed.

Takers come from the Chasingclan lands, it's not been discovered why it how yet, but they do have a mirror world that only exists within the Chasingclan territory.

That should be everything? I believe so?

[yaut-jaknowit]

I really love "The Wrong Secret to Hold". Can I request the yautja in that fic ? He and reader are just enjoying their day and reader is an artist and Ahtaal(?) is very intrigued of readers creativity.

An Artist's Touch

Character: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Summary: As an artist, a talent not many Yautjas possess, you are seen commodity like no other. There are few humans on Yautja Prime. Let one's that are under the empress's protection. Being different, you strayed away from the palace with her permission to stay in a town far in the world. Ahtaal's town. He's intrigued to see someone make something out of nothing.

Author Note: This is what I wish my life to be. I want to be resting on Yautja Prime, sketch book in hand, and just enjoying the deadly nature. Gods, I wish!

Masterlist

Ao3

Underneath an awning that offered plenty of shade a pencil and sketch were hand. Despite the credits you hold, you’ve found a spot within a tribe that resides in temperate area on Yautja Prime. It’s small. Less than fifty Yautjas are strewn across the territory, But it was perfect for yourself along the clan. They accepted you due to your talent.

Creating art. Murals painted on walls in important Yautjas houses. Including the empress all the way in Kov. She tried to offer you all the riches to stay at her palace. But, your wanted to explore, see the planet from a deep, inside look. Being inside the empress’s palace, practically trapped, offered you none of that. A city filled with Yautjas. What you wanted to see was the outside world. How they hunt, how they think. It made the murals you created come to life.

A morning dew softened the air that would soon turn hot. This area was considered temperate to them. To a human, it was far too hot for you to stand directly in the sunlight. The suns themselves would turn your skin red in less than five minutes. A planet that wasn’t meant your kind. That didn’t stop you from being out in a designated spot that had been crafted just for you.

The thatch on top plenty thick to prevent a single strand of sunlight from slipping through. You were sitting on a plush bean bag like chair. It was soft and body conforming. The furs used to cover it came from a creature you couldn’t even try to say the name. But their fur was so soft, it felt like being on a cloud. You enjoyed the calmness that floated through the air. The sketch book and pencil in your hand is all you needed for the morning.

Nearly silent footfalls had you picking up your head and finding a familiar red figure walking into the shade. A bright smile graced your features. “Ahtaal,” you greeted. The strong male strolled up to the foot of the plush seat you’ve taken and gazed down at you. “What do I owe to be graced with your presence?”

After picking a tribe to live with, Ahtaal had made a blood oath to the empress to ensure your safety. Though humans and Yautjas are an uncommon sight to see, you were one of the very few to be allowed to live freely. There were no ifs, ands, or buts to your presences amongst the Yautjas. Your talented hands ensured you had a place. The empress gracing you sanctum anywhere on the planet. Here you choose to be, of all places. But the face of Ahtaal was one you’d never pass up on.

The lumbering giant squats down in front of you and peers over the edge of the book. “I see you working away on another project,” he explained, eyes curiously running over the sketch you’ve started. Another commission for an ancient somewhere on the planet. Maybe she was up north? You let the book fall flat on your lap. Your artwork wasn’t something you hid, let alone from him.

The sketch book is turned around to face Ahtaal. “Yep, someone up north I think commissioned me. Got some more credits in the pockets.” Even as someone protected by the empress, you still liked to work for your own money. There was plenty you had since you had little to spend it on. No clothes, food, shelter, or supplies. It was just there so when anyone commissioned you, they could pay for your work. Though, gifts were another way for them pay you. There are a few trinkets you enjoyed happily every since you got them.

Carefully, Ahtaal ran just the side of his sharp claw over the pages. He traced over some of the darker, more permanent lines that marked what you truly had in mind. A deep hum rumbled from his throat. The male focused on what you’ve created on paper. A talent he will never possess, no matter how many times you egg him in.

“What do they ask for?” he questioned and brought his bright eyes up to yours. The contrast was stark. Calm, soft verses fierce, predatory. He wished there was a way to capture the beautiful color of your irises and color it somewhere in his dwelling.

The way they brightened at the question. “That snarly beast that reminds me of a carnivore looking horse that lives near the north pole.” The hairs on your arm raised at the thought of the creature. It was beyond ugly and terrifying at the same time. It looked completely unnatural when you try to give it a logical look to it with earth creatures in mind.

Ahtaal snorted, mandibles twitching with a few slow nods. Then, his gaze drops back down to the sketch book. The pages were nearly full. A constant thing for yourself.

For such an advanced species… their entertainment was limited to mainly hunting. As a human that can’t participate in such a thing, you have limited ways of filling the time. You wield pencils, not swords.

“Is this your last sketch book?” Ahtaal was responsible for your wellbeing. That includes taking care of all needs and wants under the order of the empress. But, it wasn’t only just because he was under oath.

The hand on your book lifted off. A sharp, black ended talon tipped your chin back up to meet his intense stare. You licked at your suddenly dry lips and swallowed hard. You felt mushy. “I-uh…” you cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah, it is.” Your heart stuttered in your chest while gazing into his eyes. If only you could look into them all day.

“Then, I shall go get more when time permits. I cannot have my little ooman without paper to draw on,” he grunted. The back of his shiny claw was dragged across your jawline, all the way up to your ear. With a swipe, it left your skin. More goosebumps rose across the skin on your arms. “Will you survive until tomorrow for me to get more?”

Your throat was dry. His words had soared over your head. All you were able to focus on was his gentle, mind consuming touch. You melted.

When you found your voice, you speak in a tiny voice. “Yeah.” How could one person reduce you to a school girl in front of her crush? You gnawed on your bottom lip and pulled on the skin harshly. Blood painted your tastebuds.

Red finger grasped your chin and lightly jerked down on it. “Don’t,” he warned and stopped you from mutilating your lip again. You licked at the new wound, unable to look away from his eyes. Ahtaal swipes over the moisten skin with his thumb. You weren’t able to stop yourself from licking at the deadly, pointed claw that tipped the end of his finger.

All the muscles in his body tensed up in the same manner as your own. You couldn’t believe you had just done that. It had only been a thought. Yet, apparently, your body had a different thought of its own.

At first, your mouth opened and closed. Your brain couldn’t figure out a way to make up an excuse for the stupidity you had just pulled. “Shit, I-I didn’t… Fuck, why did I do that?” you whined to yourself and pulled away.

Except, Ahtaal tightened his grip on your chin and tugged you in closer. Your lips were parted, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Stars sparkling in them. Something changed within his gaze. A darker, heavier tint to the usually light colored irises.

“You… play a dangerous game, little ooman,” he growled out and emphasized his point by tugging you an inch closer to him. The warmth of his breath fanned over your face. “And I don’t know if you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You wettened your lips again. A habit hard to break. His eyes darted down to watch the action then seemed to soften. Like a whine was on the tip of his tongue.

Everything he said… Your heart continued to thunder loudly in its cavern. You swallowed hard and raised a hand to just touch at the column of his throat. The scales soft under your touch. A vulnerable place for any creature. Ahtaal lets you freely run your finger pads from his jaw down the front to where his collarbones meet.

The texture of his scales weren’t like anything you’ve felt before. Tough in a fight. You let your dull nails to trace a pattern through the spaces of the scales. Your hand continuously moving even if the two of your don’t look away.

“And what if… I do know,” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear. The surrounding space didn’t need to listen in on your conversation. “What if I want to play this game?”

A deep bellow vibrated throughout his chest. The tone so low you felt it more than heard it. You whimpered. Goosebumps covered your forearms. His eyes darkened. “Are you sure? Are you willing to let me have that power?” To hand over your power to him is a huge sign of trust. Let alone to someone who wasn’t event he same species.

“Yes,” is all you needed to say. Ahtaal towered over you, body leaning over your curled up form. His hand had shifted down to your fragile throat. Just enough pressure, just a flick of wrist and you would be nothing but a memory. Your eyes drifted close. Everything you were doing made the Yautja go wild. Every sign of submission to him. You, someone of high talent, was allowing to take that power from you.

Ahtaal growled from the back of his throat. His thumb ran along the pulse point on your throat, feeling the way it rapidly fluttered just under the skin. “Such a delicate thing under my hand. You are letting me have this.” You only gave a subtle nod, not wanting to move too much. The moment was thick with tension yet soft like clouds. You didn’t want to break a thing.

“Oh little ooman,” he cooed in a husky voice. Your eyes gently open to find him still so close to you with a low whine. His hand drifted up to cup your cheek. The large, dark red male leaned in to press his forehead to yours. “Mine?”

More of a question rather than a statement.

A smile graced your features. “Yes.” An artist and their hunter.

He finds himself scooping you off of the lounge chair and up into his arms. A surprised yelp escapes you as you clung to his neck. The sketch book and pencil you once held fell to the ground with a subtle thump. Ahtaal takes your seat and sets you down in his lap. You glared at him with no real heat in your eyes then leaned over his knees to grab at your fallen supplies.

“Well, good sir, I could’ve moved all by myself you asked,” you huffed. One of your hands was able to pick up the items off of the ground. As you go to sit back up, Ahtaal hooks an arm around your midsection and pulls you flush with his chest. The things in your grasp nearly fall back to the ground. You whipped your head to the side and narrowed your eyes on him.

All he did was chuckle from deep within his chest. The tension in the air has passed now. The soft clouds were the only thing left in their wake.  

His arm flexed around your torso and kept your lower back snug to his stomach. You could only wiggle without a chance of escape. “Ahtaal, at least let me get into a more comfortable position then this.” Ahtaal listened to you. You gave him a pointed look before twisting into a position that you were able to still draw in.

Only your butt was planted firmly in his lap. You lounged sideways and used the side of the cushion to keep yourself slightly upright. Just enough to have the book on your lower thighs and draw. You peer up at Ahtaal with a pointed look that turned into a soft smile. The expression on his face was at ease, relaxed, and gentle with the sight of you.

Ahtaal placed a hand on your knee and rubbed his thumb against your skin. “How’s this?” he purred in a tone that made you want to smack him. Somehow, you refrained from fulling such a thought. Instead, you scoffed and started back on the project in hand. Ahtaal watched an artist at work, amazed the way you create something out of nothing.

[yellowsubiesdance]

that actor thing when you catch feelings for your scene partners when your characters are in a romantic relationship

[violent138]

HC that Superman goes public about his lack of American citizenship and over a hundred countries offer him either broad diplomatic immunity or honourary citizenship since he's demonstrated a willingness to help them out in times of trouble/generally is a good human being.

[deoidesign]

quick traditional piece for fun ^^

[hajihiko]

Your tag saying Mikan is gonna have it rough has me worried. She’s already been through enough! I mean they all have but especially her! I don’t even want to imagine what her haunting is like!

there's no metric for suffering so it's not like she literally has more bad than the boys. I just mean that, to me, things pertaining to childbirth and the menstrual cycle is horror in itself so it hits harder

[dirtypuzzle]

say a button exists that, when pressed, says it would cure all of humanity of human nature. you are then asked if you would press the button. if you say anything other than “fuck no” then you will fall for eugenics as long as it’s pitched to you appropriately. unfortunately, eugenics is one of those cockroaches that never dies no matter how many times it gets stamped out.

[nutelloona]

btw is anyone else also in love with the fact that Jim, Oluwande and Archie naturally evolved into a throuple no announcement no questions asked no big deal????

[notbecauseofvictories]

nosferatu is a beautiful movie, amazing choices by everyone involved---except the main actors. they were terrible.

[clowndensation]

now i don't know who irelin or strife are, so far be it for me to question why they think the way they do. but. you would assume that two dalish elves would, upon hearing about the return of two of their gods (gods who fought against fen'harel, who is currently causing so much trouble), express some sort of happiness or perhaps hope at what this could mean for the future of their people. "elger'nan and ghilan'nain were NOT known to be good gods" is like. not tracking. for me. personally.

[djsangos]

//"average inkfish is very aggressive" factoid actually statistical error. Captain Violence, who makes one billion threats of bodily harm a day, is an outlier and should not have been counted