#but would it be so hard for literally any one of them to be ... not cool with atrocities? or even ambivalent? just a thought

[ofbatsandballads]

Yay! I’m so glad you take requests. Feel free to decide if you want to write this or not, it’s fine either way :)

So, I was thinking about Jason dating civilian!reader, and her coming home all disheveled and horrified. Since she knows about him being Red Hood, she can confide in him. She had just killed someone for the first time, whether it was an accident, self defense or whatever, you decide.

I was just wondering how Jason would handle this situation since usually he’s the one doing the killing.

Thank you <3

oh, this is amazing food for thought. I actually think he’d be the very best person to come to in such a situation because he has experience with killing. who’s gonna understand you better than him? literally nobody. had something similar to this in my drafts but now my mind is whirling in a whole host of directions. excellent prompt, nonnie!

jason todd x f!reader. warnings include graphic depictions of violence and killing (in self defense), attempted and failed sexual assault, the aftermath of both events (reader’s in shock), hurt/comfort. this one’s got heavier subject matter so please do mind the warnings, folks. i did way too much research of the Gotham Knights map for this, but it’s my favorite depiction of the city so so be it. also reader and Jason live in the Belfry bc i said so (personal hc that i may or may not elaborate on some time). and one last thing! the romanized Arabic at the end is “حياتي ” which translates to “my life”. I love the idea that Jason picked up Arabic terms of endearment from Talia calling Bruce just about every one she could.

Jason wakes up to soft afternoon sunlight shining on his face. He grumbles out a gravelly hum and scrunches up his face in protest against being awakened when he was sleeping so nicely. He reaches out to find the comforting warmth of his beloved beside him, to pull you in and bury his face into your hair so he can hide from the morning for a bit longer.

All he finds are cold sheets and an empty pillow.

He bolts upright. Something’s wrong. You never, never wake up before him. He doesn’t even register the way that the sudden abundance of light stings his eyes. He takes stock of his surroundings, his training executing on autopilot. The open layout of the Belfry lets him get his bearings in seconds. He doesn’t see you anywhere from the bird’s eye view of your loft bedroom. There’s no smell of food in the kitchen nor any mess that would indicate you’d been working in there. The living room space, fully visible below, is empty too. The only enclosed space in your home, the bathroom that’s just around the corner from your bedroom, is dead quiet. No running water, no sweet singing, no familiar coughing from swallowed toothpaste. And without so much as leaving your bed, Jason’s already come to a conclusion that sends his heart pounding and dries his throat. You’re not here.

He’s up and grabbing the 9mm taped under your bedside table in the span of a few breaths. He moves through your home methodically, like he’s clearing one of Gotham’s criminal hideouts. There’s no sign of a struggle. Nothing’s been disturbed. He’s not surprised by this—barring Wayne Manor, the Belfry is the most secure building in Gotham. That’s precisely why Jason had moved you both here once you decided to live together. He checks the coffee table and sees that your phone and wallet are gone. A different type of fear takes over now. One that makes his heart ache. What if you’ve finally had enough, finally seen that he’s not good enough for you, not worth sticking around for? It makes him sick. He swallows hard and tries to clear the blistering thought from his head. No, that’s not you. You’re not cruel. You’re kind and gentle and loving. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. And you wouldn’t hurt him.

The sight of gears turning in his periphery catches his attention. He sees the cables pulling and the security panel go green, and he’s running to the elevator doors damn near ready to pry them open. He hastily tucks the 9mm into the waistband of his pajama pants, easily within reach if he needs it. Relief floods him when the huge metal doors grind open and he sees your pretty face on the other side. Then his heart drops when he realizes that that pretty face is scraped and splattered with blood.

Your hair is tangled and wet, dripping dirty water down your neck and staining the bright red of his your favorite hoodie. Your hands, which shake as they reach blindly towards him, are stained crimson and battered too. But it’s your eyes that haunt him. You look broken.

“Jay,” you croak out, unable to summon anything but a plea for the one person who can keep you safe.

The tears fall from your eyes at the same time that you collapse into Jason’s arms. He drags you inside and locks down the Belfry. Jason wants to panic but feels a strange sense of calm about himself. As loathe as he’d be to admit it, he finds himself falling into Bruce’s habit of assessment and action.

“Baby, what happened?” he asks, voice steady and assured.

You don’t even hear him. You’re digging your hands into his shirt, clinging on to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth. He may very well be. He feels you going rigid and cold and he knows he has to get you stable before you descend further into shock.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, adding on and enunciating your name for emphasis.

That sparks some semblance of lucidity. Jason hasn’t called you by your name in months, much preferring you be his baby or his sweetheart or his doll, or simply his. If it jars you back to reality, so be it.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” he demands gently.

It all pours out of you like a flood.

You’d woken up early by chance this afternoon. Normally you’d just close your eyes and snuggle closer to Jason to catch a couple more hours of sleep, but you wanted to do something nice for him. So you’d gotten up and gone to Lemay’s Flower Emporium in Gotham Heights. You’d bought him the prettiest bouquet of red and pink roses, so big that you had to hold on to it with both arms. The taxi ride from the Heights back to Coventry Station went fine. You were almost home. So close that you could see the clock tower where your heart was sleeping peacefully.

Then you stopped at Commerce Avenue Station. You just wanted to get him some pastries from the little bakery tucked away on 3rd Street that you both love. It was a decent walk; you knew that. You also knew that Jason wouldn’t want you to go out of your way by yourself. But it was morning and you were a grown woman and you could handle yourself, right? Well, that’s what you thought until a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulders and yanked you violently into a side alley.

Jason had prepared you for something like this. You’d spent countless evenings with him teaching you self defense techniques in the training area of your home. None of it mattered because the man that had you by the shoulders slammed you so hard into the brick wall that all your thoughts went hazy. Before you could regain your footing, you were shoved to the ground. The bitter sting of your palms scraping open pierced through the fog, as did the crushing weight of the vile man on top of you. Fear shot through you as the man started tugging at his belt and you realized that this wasn’t intended to be a mugging. You tried to scream but a grimy hand clamped over your mouth, hitting your head against the ground and soaking your hair in dirty rain water and blood.

Your eyes darted around in search of someone—anyone. But no one was coming. You felt fingernails scratch against your stomach as clammy hands curled into the waistband of your sweatpants and suddenly you saw your savior. A brick from the damaged alleyway laid within reach. You didn’t even think when you grabbed it, when you swung it as hard as you could into the side of the man’s head. The corner hit his temple and he crumbled to the side. You rose to your knees and hit the man again. And again. All you could remember were Jason’s firm instructions: if someone makes it a choice of you or them, you make sure that it’s you no matter what it takes.

“I don’t r-remember anything else,” you sob into his chest. “There was so much blood, Jason. And his head—oh, God.”

Jason shushes you gently. He holds you tight in his arms like he’s terrified that if he loosens his grip even slightly, you’ll fade away on him.

“Don’t think about it, baby. You did what you needed to do. You protected yourself. I’m so proud of you.”

“I killed someone, Jason. I killed someone.”

You look at him wide eyed—afraid, horrified, guilty. No. Jason won’t have that. You will not feel guilty over some lowlife scumbag who wanted to hurt you, who probably would have killed you. Jason can’t even stomach the thought. He wants to put a bullet into whatever’s left of that predator’s head. No, the only shame in you killing that man is that you got to him before Jason could.

“I need you to listen to me,” he says, repeats your name again for emphasis. “You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.”

“Someone’s dead because of me, Jay,” you argue, gripping him tighter as your panic rises.

“Baby, do you know how many people are dead because of me?” he asks. “Far, far more than I’d ever want you to know. Do you think I’m a monster, honey? That I did something wrong?”

He knows it’s an apples to oranges comparison. But you’ve used this same tactic on him so many times that he also knows it’s effective. Every time he demeans himself for something, you ask if he’d treat you the way he treats himself for the same thing. The answer is always no.

“No!” you reply emphatically. “You protect people. You do it to keep people safe.”

“You did it to keep yourself safe.”

“But—”

“No buts. Or ifs. No ands, either, just in case you get any ideas,” he says lightly, brushing a speck of blood off your cheekbone.

You smile at his stupid little comment and he feels the tension in his body release just slightly. As long as there’s light back in your eyes for even a moment, he knows that you’ll be okay. He picks you up, lets you cling your arms around his neck and bury your face in his chest as he carries you to the bathroom upstairs. He runs you a bath and, after asking repeatedly if you were okay with it, undresses you and washes the blood and grime from your body. He wraps you in a big fluffy towel, dries and brushes your hair, and tends to your injuries before he bundles you up in his comfiest hoodie and pajama pants. He soothes you when your tears make their return and never leaves your line of sight because he knows he makes you feel safe.

The thought gnaws at him throughout the day. It outright scalds him as he lies in bed with you after deciding to skip patrol. He’s failed you. Failed to protect you, failed to ensure nothing harms a hair on your head. He’s failed at taking care of you, the one thing that matters more to him than anything else. He’s seconds away from spiraling into self hatred when your sweet voice comes calling, soft and pleading.

“Jay…please stay with me,” you say softly.

Your eyes are clear and focused again. You squeeze his waist tight where your arms are wrapped around him, like you’re physically trying to anchor him in place in your bed. The look on your face says that you know exactly where his mind was headed. You see right through him. It makes him feel more vulnerable than anything else, and it surprises him how much he loves the feeling. And Jason, as always and for eternity, can’t bring himself to deny you. So he pulls himself together and shoves all his self loathing down. He can deal with it later—you need him more right now.

“I’m right here, hayati. Not goin’ anywhere, I promise.”

He kisses you gently and feels some of that self hatred wash away when you chase after him for more goodnight kisses. He feels it dissipate even more when you fall asleep in his arms with a soft smile on your face. It’s all but forgotten as he drifts off too, safe in the knowledge that you’re here with him, that he can feel your heart beating pressed tight against his own.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

not for bunnytine but lil request about SWEETHEART! ANI on a beach day with his kids and his wife. Just do your magic bun bun

he’s absolutely the type of dad to go diving to see colored fishs then make sand castle with his kids and lose the key of the car in the sand 😭🫶🏻 he’s so precious.

PAIRING: sweetheart!anakin x f!reader

𝓕𝓛𝓤𝓕𝓕 ❦

Warm sun shined down in long strands on your body, the waves rolling in with a gentle hush while your eyes followed Anakin, who was knee-deep in the crystal-clear water, with Luke and Leia squealing beside him. He’s been out there with them for almost an hour now, diving under the surface every time they ask him to find ‹more fishies›, coming up with exaggerated gasps and splashes, so the twins would burst into constant laughters

“Daddy, did you see a big one?!” Leia bounced excitedly, running up to him to clutch onto his shoulders

“Oh, sweetheart, I saw the biggest fish. It was this big.” Anakin spread his arms dramatically, to which Luke only furrowed his brows in deep confusion, as if he wasn't really believing his father.

“That’s not real,” Luke mumbled, acting skeptical, yet still wide-eyed.

“Of course it is,” Anakin grinned, leaning closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “I even asked if it wanted to come home with us, but it said it has a big fish family here.”

Leia gasps. Luke's thinking.

“Can we see it?” Leia asks, almost getting ready to throw herself into the water

“Not unless you can hold your breath for ten whole minutes,” Anakin teased, tickling under her chin before hoisting her up. “Now, who’s ready to build the biggest sandcastle in the world?”

The answer comes immediately. The three of them rushed to the shore, to which you shook your head, laughing softly as Anakin flopped onto the sand next to you, water dripping down his curls.

“You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I told them I fought off a sea monster,” he grinned, leaning down to kiss your lips gently as Leia and Luke started gathering shells for decoration.

“You’re gonna turn them into little liars,” you teased

“Storytellers,” he corrected with a playful smirk, before standing up to walk back to the twins. Then, twisting his neck to look at you, he waved his hand towards you “Come on, baby, you’re on moat duty.” he called

So, you couldn't just ignore that. Joining in, you let Anakin guide the twins with all the seriousness of an architect, brows furrowed as he taught Luke how to properly shape the turrets and Leia how to build the bridges. You chose to just listen, letting Luke sit in your lap and help him make a small sandcastle

It’s seemed like the greatest family day. The kids are giggling, having fun, Anakin’s smiling so hard his dimples ache, and you’re soaking in the warmth of the moment—until...

Anakin's grin falls slightly, expression getting serious “Hey..uh..where’s the car key?” Anakin patted his pockets, blinking.

You pause. “What?”

“I… I think I…” He lookrd at the massive stretch of sand around you.

Oh no.

“Anakin.”

“Okay, nobody panic—”

“Daddy, did you lose the key?!”

“I—technically, yes.”

Luke groaned dramatically, flopping onto the sand as Anakin tried to calm everyone down

You press your fingers to your temples. “Anakin—”

Anakin sighed, rubbing his face before finally looking at you with his best sheepish grin that hopefully was supposed to fix everything. “Babe. Sweetheart. Love of my life. How mad would you be if I said we might be stranded here forever?”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @nikiloveshayden

[juyeoz]

SOFT SPOT — HAN TAESAN

SYNOPSIS — To the eyes around you all, you and Taesan are enemies. You hate anything to do with each other and recoil at the mention of your names. However, behind closed doors, you two are completely different — inseparable. Clearly, Taesan and you will go to an extent to keep your relationship private.

PAIRING — fake-enemy-but-boyfriend!taesan x gn!reader

CONTAINS — kissing, corny love birds Likee i kinda recoiled when writing some lines, and literally just fluff.

WORDCOUNT — 1007 words

NOTE — soph sent that taesan pic and our lives were changed……..and this fic was born duhhh!!!!

“Absolutely not!” You exclaim and spin around in your chair after hearing a few words leave your superior's mouth.

Mr. Lee looks taken aback by your response. Yes, everyone knows about the ongoing battle between both Taesan and you, but your reactions to each other’s names being mentioned never fails to catch them all off guard. 

In the office, you and Taesan never get along. It's been this way since the beginning of your careers. 

Yes, you two have taken a liking to one another since you met, but you couldn’t let anyone else at work know about it, so you played it off as enemies. 

Well, you two at least pretended to want to do nothing with each other to make things less obvious. 

The “enemies” title was given by your coworkers.

Therefore, working with each other is never an option. You “can’t” even stand being in the same room as him, making working in the office a “terrible” experience.

“I won’t work with him.”

“Please, the two of you are the only free ones. We need this proposal by tonight.” Mr. Lee explains with a pleading gaze.

“Then I’ll work on it alone. I don’t need his help.” You say while collecting your scattered papers on the surface of your desk.

“That won’t do.” 

“And why is that?” 

You stack your papers into a pile and turn off your computer in a swift motion as Mr. Lee sighs from behind you.

“It’s too much for one person to handle. With his help, you’ll surely get it done.” He crosses his arms over his chest as you snicker.

Is he looking down on you right now?

“Whatever that means,” you begin and stand up from your seat, with your papers in hand. 

“I’ll work overtime. It can’t be that hard.”

Although it has only been three hours since you uttered those words, you surely are regretting them now.

There you sit, staring at a blank document showcased on your monitor. No matter how long you sit in silence, nothing is coming to your mind. 

Brain fog is after you, and clearly, it doesn't need to try so hard to catch up.

The longer you waited for something, a starting sentence, words — even an overall idea to come to your mind, the more and more workers left. The sun is starting to set, casting an orangey light on your belongings.

In distress, your hands pull at your strands as you let out a groan of frustration. 

You should have listened to what Mr. Lee suggested, but you couldn’t let your relationship become known.

Everyone is used to both you and Taesan rejecting any projects that have to do with one another, so, if you switched up, would they have questioned it?

It sucks, really. You want to spend time with your boyfriend at work, but there are too many eyes on the two of you. To be honest, you can’t even recall why you chose to keep your relationship a secret. It could be because of the awkward tension that would come if you two ever break up and everyone knew about it.

That is a possibility.

The only times you two interact romantically are in the break room when you coincidentally both end up there at the same time. The teasing glances that make your eyes lock with one another and break out into a smile. Or when he secretly leaves anonymous sticky notes on your desk belongings.

Other than that, there is nothing. However, despite that, things will be seen eventually. 

“What’s worrying your pretty mind, love?” A voice approaches you from behind, instantly calming your tense figure due to the familiar warming tone. 

It’s Taesan — your loving boyfriend and so-called workplace enemy.

“A proposal.” You inform as Taesan’s hands slide down from your shoulders and his chin rests on your head.

“Is it the one Mr. Lee suggested we do together?” He asks and you hum in response.

“Why’d you say no? I would be more than glad to help you.” 

“It’ll draw too much attention if I agree, no?” Your head begins to turn to look his way, causing him to rise from his resting position. He looks down at you and smiles while you look up at him.

“That’s too bad.” Taesan begins, then leans down to give you a short and sweet kiss on the lips, which you happily return. 

“If it didn’t, then I could’ve done that many times during work hours instead of after hours.” He teases while your face becomes slightly flushed.

“Why don’t I just help you now? I mean, there’s nobody around…” The boy suggests as your hands lower into your lap.

“Would you actually?” 

“Of course. Here, let’s have a food break first. You seem too overwhelmed by everything to even continue your supposed brainstorming process.” 

You roll your eyes at what he truly meant — your flustered expression — and rise up from your seat for him to lead the way to the break room. 

“A coffee will do?” Taesan questions and you nod. 

“That and your presence, of course.” You reply, giving him another kiss on the cheek once you reach his side.

“Hey.” He stammers out because of the sudden warmth on his cheek. Now, it’s his turn to be left a blushing mess.

“Only I can catch you off guard with a kiss.” He says and you laugh while interlocking your hand with his. 

Out of nowhere, his thumb rubs against the skin of your hand — a reflex he has whenever he intertwines your fingers with his own.

You hum at his words, pondering on his new sudden rule.

“Doesn’t that seem unfair?” Your brow raises as you say your question and look over at the boy interrogatively. Taesan looks back at you, holding eye contact with no signs of breaking it and smiles.

“Not at all.” Taesan replies to your question.

Best believe, after his words, you earned yourself another kiss on the lips for him to prove whatever point he had.

© JUYEOZ

BOYNEXTDOOR PERM TAGLIST — @ancnymcnzjy @miumura @ilovedallywinston @i03jae @borednia @s0shroe @leehanwish @sol3chu @en-dream @ribbeoms @itsactuallylina @macapunoz @hollxe1 @r1kification @mensisim @mydearyeseo @sunghxxnie @taesanfav @wonzzziezzzz @ijustwannareadstuff20 @tanghuyuj @ranjupotato @mimimimiaa @ningizuo @hyunjinslongasslegs

[fear-is-truth]

Hi Jackie:), in your husband+fiancé namgyu head cannons (thank you again for accepting my request) you said if he had kids he would never fully step into the father role, and I’m curious if you have any other father namgyu head cannons. Like how he would act with his kids and stuff🩵

PARENTING HEADCANONS ──

CONTENT. what it’s like raising kids with nam-gyu (player 124). headcanons

he’s all for being the ‘fun dad’, but only on his terms. he’ll toss the kid in the air, let them ride on his shoulders, play peekaboo, the whole shebang. but the second they start crying or fussing, he’s out. literally just disappears from the situation and acts like he was never there.

falls asleep with the baby on his chest. it happens all the time, but it’s never intentional. one minute he’s lying down with them, next he’s knocked out. baby’s just curled up on him like a tiny heater. cute.

gets jealous of the attention you give them. if he walks in and sees you rocking the baby, whispering to them, he just kind of stands there for a second like huh. then suddenly he’s sitting closer, making it weirdly obvious that he’s there. might put a hand on your thigh or your shoulder, casual but possessive. worst case, he straight up just goes, “how much longer you gonna be doing that?”

actively avoids any situation where the baby is crying. the moment there’s screaming, he’s suddenly busy doing anything else. if you call for him, he just pretends he didn’t hear.

traditional views, but mostly out of convenience. he expects you to do the heavy lifting with the baby—feeding, changing, night shifts—because in his mind, that’s just how it should be. he’s the provider (even if you’re also working, he just… ignores that part).

ideally prefers a son, but wouldn’t really mind having a daughter.

when the kid gets older, he becomes a bit more involved. toddlers are more manageable. they don’t need diapers, they can talk, they can walk away when he’s done with them. he likes that. teaches them dumb tricks, probably lets them stay up too late watching cartoons.

definitely the type to bribe them. if they’re whining or throwing a tantrum, he just straight-up offers them money, snacks, whatever gets them to stop. “okay, okay, here, just—shh. don’t tell mom.”

often gangs up with the kids against you. if you tell them no to something, suddenly he’s on their side. “c’mon, it’s not that big of a deal.” if they want ice cream before dinner, guess what? they’re getting ice cream.

absolutely encourages bad habits. swearing? “just don’t say it around your mom.” playing video games all night? “as long as you don’t lose.” talking back? if it’s funny, he’s laughing. you’re the only one actually trying to teach them manners.

doesn’t really do discipline. if the kid messes up, he brushes it off. “they’re just a kid, it’s not a big deal.” but if they really piss him off, he gets snappy.

discipline is mostly your job. he refuses to be the bad guy. if the kid messes up, his go-to response is “go ask your mom” or “what did your mom say?” he lets you handle all the serious stuff so he gets to be the favourite parent.

if they come up to him and ask for something, he just nods while scrolling his phone. doesn’t even think about it. you have to be the one to shut it down later.

plays rough but knows how to hold back. he’ll wrestle, let them throw punches, even pretend to lose, but the second they get close to actually hurting themselves, he switches. catches them mid-fall, stops them before they knock something over.

he’s lazy with parenting but still gets all the love. doesn’t do any of the hard work, doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night, doesn’t deal with tantrums. but somehow, he’s still their favourite. drives you insane.

[villainousauthor]

"This might be a new low for you." Hero's voice is firm, unwavering. Villain looks up from their delicate work, crossing of wires and fuses. They were hoping to get this explosive planted quickly and efficiently, though Hero's presence may delay their goal.

"I didn't know you previously held such a high opinion of me. I'm flattered." Villain's speaks in a deadpan tone.

Hero crosses the room, standing before Villain, arms folded in irritation. "A government building? Really? I thought my opinion of you couldn't get lower, but you dropped the bar into hell." Villain looks up, meeting their stern glower. Their fingers drum across the wooden desk the explosives sit on, holding Hero's gaze.

"Is this supposed to have any effect on me? I'm used to your scorn." They stand up, rising to Hero's height. "Either try to stop me or get lost. If you try to fight me, though, know I won't go easy on you this time."

This was too important. They didn't have time to play their usual games with Hero, or worry about their disappointment.

"I can tell." Hero speaks, sitting down on the desk, as if uncaring about the literal ticking bomb inches away. "You have that look on your face. Like you're thinking hard about something." They sigh as if exhausted. "Trying to fight you when you get like this never goes well."

"So leave-"

"Nope." Hero crosses their legs, uncrosses them, and leans back, meeting Villain's stare again. They're forcing a show of relaxation, but Villain doesn’t miss the way their limbs shake, or the way fingers won't stay still. "I have a better idea." They continue.

"Do go on."

"You go ahead and finished setting up these explosives and high tail it out of here like a coward, and I'll stay here." Hero's tone is like that of someone discussing the weather, or the latest sports game.

Villain blinks, opens their mouth, and closes their mouth before finally finding their words.

"What? You do know what a bomb is, right? I know your skull is a bit thick, but you do realize what would happen in that case?"

Hero makes a show of a fake explosion with their hand, complete with an auditory Woosh.

"I'd be turned into paste. Probably. If your weapons skills are even that good." They try to keep their voice in that same casual tone, but yet again, Villain doesn't miss the slight tremble. They're frightened. None of this makes sense.

Villain pauses for a moment. "Are you suicidal? Is this a cry for help because I'm sure this Hero gig of yours pays well enough for some therapy-"

"Nothing like that." Hero interrupts with a shake of their head and a laugh devoid of humor. "I appreciate the concern, but no, that's not what's going on here."

Staying quiet for a moment, Villain waits for them to elaborate.

"I'm calling your bluff." They say simply. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "It's easier than trying to fight you and getting my ass kicked."

Frowning, Villain speaks a bit firmer, still confused though. "You're what?"

"I am calling your bluff. You can go ahead and blow up this building, but I'll be right here when it detonates." Hero smirks, like they've figured villain out.

Standing up taller, they lean over the wooden table and grab one of Hero's shoulders harshly. Their face becomes something wild.

"Are you really so self-centered, so arrogant, that you somehow- somehow in that stupid mind of yours think-" They exhale harshly through their nose and let go. "You think that your stupid threat of self destruction is enough to make me change my mind? You think your life matters to me, at all?" Their voice gets harsher as they speak, volume raising slightly. Why would Hero even try this?

"Okay then. So prove how worthless my life is to you." Hero shrugs. "You go ahead and set the bomb off, and I'll stay here." Hero tries to hide their smug smile. Despite their fear, they know they've caught Villain off guard.

Pinching their own face so hard they worry their nails may cut skin, Villain breathes loudly.

"You realize I could turn this back around on you, right? I could call your bluff. You wish to risk your life like this?"

"Call my bluff then." They challenge. "Unless you defuse this bomb, I'm not leaving." Hero raises their chin defiantly, eyes dagger sharp.

Villain rounds the table, grabbing Hero roughly, jostling them with a grip hard enough to ache. Hero's face doesn't change. "You think I can't drag you out of here? That I couldn't possibly knock you out and take you with me?" And then give them lecture filled with ire boarding on something violent later.

"You can certainly try," They keep that rebellious smile on their face, "but I'd fight you tooth and nail the whole way, and is that how you want to spend your precious escape time?"

Sneering, Villain can't decide if they want to shove them away or grip them tighter. "I hate you. I hate you so much." They all but snarl at them. If the imminent threat of explosion didn't kill Hero, they're sure the look on their enemy's face would.

Still, Hero pushes. "No, you don't. If you did, you'd already be out the door. You'd be killing two birds with one stone." Hero's hand reaches for the beeping package of wires, hand trembling, but they grab it nonetheless. They shove it to Villain roughly.

"Prove you hate me. Or defuse the bomb." They keep on the act of confidence, but that underlying dread is still in their eyes, the deep seated fear of what will happen.

Idiotic as always, Villain decides. Like there was any chance Villain would do anything else but spare them. Their stupid, infuriating Hero.

"I can't stand you." They growl, ripping one wire from the fuse.

[thedissonantverses]

This is absolutely me being petty and feel free to ignore but as it concerns THE Scout Lace Harding and this fandom’s raging misogyny I’m gonna indulge:

Harding’s character was ruined in DATV is a take you could have sure. It’s not a good take but ya know. Oh you want reasons? Okay!

“Why couldn’t it have been Dagna?”

Because the literal entire point is that Harding didn’t have magic and that magic is returning to the dwarves on a broader scale. Dagna wasn’t relevant and that’s okay it’s cool there is more than one dwarf with magic out there. It’s expanding the universe. Again, in my opinion which feel free to take or leave, this is a good thing. It would have been cool to have Dagna but again I’m really glad Veilguard didn’t shove every unnecessary character they could to cameo and focused on telling a good story. Veilguard is purposely setting up a future where the dwarves have magic again.

“Harding’s character is different!”

Yes. It has been ten years. And she was a secondary character in Inquisition with barely a background because she wasn’t relevant. When you did interact with her you were doing so as one of the most powerful people on the continent. Now she’s a fully realized character and on much more equal footing with the team. Again, this is a good thing. Her story in Veilguard is wonderful and while I am incredibly biased toward her, her romance is a delight.

“She isn’t empathetic enough towards Solas.”

Ah here it is. Here’s the actual reason I made this post. Cause see there are people centering Solas’ feelings and character at every turn. Harding has EVERY fucking reason to be mad at Solas. I’d go so far as to say she can hate him but she doesn’t. He lied to everyone they knew and his original plan was to kill them all and tear down the Veil immediately. He’s responsible for the Inquisitor being forced to even be the Inquisitor and this includes needing to amputate their hand because his magic is the reason they are dying.

Yet Harding still gives more grace and empathy to Solas than just about anyone would in her shoes and yet people are still pissed at her for…telling him off? He killed her friend. He’s the reason her people don’t have magic. He’s the reason their empire fell too. What were you expecting????? People aren’t just mad they’re actually livid over this. They hate her and the writers.

It just comes off like you’re centering a man’s feelings over a woman’s because she has a spine and isn’t falling to her knees thanking him for wanting to destroy her world. Her entire arc is dealing with generational trauma and her story matters a lot to both the dwarves and Thedas as a whole. It is incredibly poignant and beautiful and it was so nice to explore the dwarven part of the lore through a woman who represents so much of what Thedas has become.

Once again it’s any excuse to hate Veilguard. Any excuse at all.

[bathroomcryptid]

The Real Housewives of the Imperium

A/N: This is just some bullshit my brain vomited while I was procrastinating other things. Enjoyyy

Lore Drop™️ before we begin: In my personal headcanon of whatever the fuck this is, the wives of the Primarchs definitely act as a political arm of their respective legion/Primarch. They are the ones that involve themselves with the administration and nobility and royalty of the Imperium, and this is a role the Primarchs are happy enough to dump on them while they’re off fighting wars. It also means that the wives run into each other a lot.

Who Hates Each other?

-I would say no one really hates each other, but that’s a lie. The Red Lady and the Wolf Mother cannot under any circumstances be in the same room together, they will absolutely kill each other it’s not pretty.

-The Raven Mother, while not generally having any disagreements with anyone, is just around so rarely it’s hard to say she has any really good friends amongst the wives.

Who are friends?

-First, The Khatun has some freaky superpower that lets her get along with literally everyone and everyone loves her. She is literally everyone’s best friend and she loves it.

-Lady Lupercal, The Mother of the Salamanders, and The Khatun have seen everything. These were the first three spouses and the only Primarch spouses for a long time. Not only were they the first, but they were also the only three to have been with their husbands prior to the Emperor’s appearance. These three wrote the book and have a deep friendship because of their circumstances.

-The Lady of the Hydra, the Dark Lady, Lady Guilliman, Lady Lupercal, and the Lady of the Emperor’s Children are all somehow extremely good friends and it’s so bad for everyone’s health because these women SCHEME. If you fuck with them or their husbands they will have the entire Imperium legitimately thinking you sacrifice babies to pagan gods in your free time by the next cycle do not mess with them. They also will pull up to the function with the best gossip.

-A surprising friendship here - the Mother of the Salamanders and Lady Curze. Everyone was expecting the Red Lady and Wolf Mother round two with these two, but noooo, they get along like a house on fire and that’s what they’ll do to yours if you fuck with them. Whereas our Quintet of trouble up there will spin you around with their words, these two are more of the “corner you in a dark alley with a knife and threaten you within an inch of your life” type.

-The Lady of the Death Guard, Lady Aurelian, the Khatun, and Lady Kurze also float around each other because they are four of the genuinely nicest people you’ll ever meet and they subconsciously bond over it.

-The Wolf Mother and the Dark Lady are drinking buddies

How do they complain about their husbands/step-children to each other?

-Now when it comes to complaining? The Lady of Iron is there, first in line to start complaining about her husband and you know who’s right behind her? The Lady of the Iron Hands because I know in my heart of hearts she’s beefing with her step-children. Between these two there are literal hours of content.

-Even though those two are in a league of their own, most gatherings between these women usually devolve into complaints about their husbands.

-Fun fact: It’s actually during one of these complaint sessions that Lady Guilliman got the idea to ban paperwork from the bedroom.

-Although, some of these women are putting back breaking work into these men, so honestly, they deserve to complain a little

Who is talking up their husbands/step-sons?

-You know who’s not complaining? Lady Aurelian and the Lady of the Death Guard on god they love their husbands more than anything and no one knows why because they are so hot. Deadass, they pulled up to the function looking like goddesses with baked goods and everyone else was like “…sorry, the Imperium’s Next Top Model is like two doors down”, but no they were in fact in the right place and everyone is still surprised.

-Also, be careful when it comes to mentioning the step-children because there are some *cough* The Mother of the Salamanders *cough* who keep a whole book of all their kids and their accomplishments on them at all times and they will yap on about them for HOURS. The Mother of the Salamanders is like one of those dads that have pictures of their kids accordion style in their wallet and they open it up and a whole string of pictures falls out but she has too many kids so she needs a book.

-It’s also a perilous topic of conversation around The Lady of Angels and The Lady of the Emperor’s Children because they will pull out their step kid’s artwork and they will make you look at it and compliment it. For. Hours.

-It’s not unheard of for particularly these three to be at events with the step-children and not shut the fuck up about them.

…

The Mother of the Salamanders: *to the person next to her* This is my son [insert Salamander name here]. He is just the most wonderful son ever. He just got back from defending a planet from Xenos! Look at this picture of him right after they claimed victory! *holds up a picture of said Salamander covered in blood looking majestic on the battlefield* And look at this sword he just made! He’s so talented! *proceeds to open a whole scrapbook, flip to said son’s page, and fold out a ton of pictures because they wouldn’t all fit on the paper* And look at this-

Salamander: *blushing under his helmet*

…

The Mother of Angels: *to the person next to her* You know, my son here [insert Blood Angel name here] is quite the performer.

Random Noble Probably: Ah, really-

The Mother of Angels: Yes! He’s just so talented! *pulls out a stack of photos* You see, this is him playing the piano, his first instrument, and then here you see he decided to try out the harp. He’s absolutely excellent at both and then- *continues chattering on and on*

Blood Angel: *flattered that Mom cares so much*

…

The Lady of the Emperor’s Children: *sits down next to someone* Hello, lovely, how are you?

Random Noble: Ah, My Lady, I’m well and you?

Lady of the Emperor’s Children: Ah, I’m spectacular. Say, have you met my son [insert Emperor’s Child name here]?

Random Noble: We have not had the pleasure.

Lady of the Emperor’s Children: Well, this is [insert name again]. You know, he’s quite the talent, almost perfect at anything he tries his hand at. You know, he recently picked up painting. *starts rummaging and pulls out a stack of photos* See, here was his first one. I was so surprised at how good he was on his first try, and then he followed it up with this one and I was absolutely blown away! *Off she goes on a tangent*

Emperor’s Child: *can’t tell whether to be flattered or concerned that Mom has that many pictures of him*

…

-Though they aren’t the only three culprits of this, most of them have done this, the rest of them, though, usually shut up after about an hour or two and only have a few pictures on them of their step kids.

-cuts over to the Lady of the Iron Hands and her step-children who are trying to growl at each other around a very tired looking Ferrus Manus who is sat between them.

-though, most of these women love to brag about their step-children and how great at everything they are.

-The Lady of Iron is also another big culprit, she loves showing off her step-kids. She has also threatened Perterabo within an inch of his life when he’s ragged on his kids.

-The mental health of the Iron Warriors rose significantly once the Lady of Iron was apart of the picture.

-Almost as much as they like bragging about their husbands.

-As much as they complain, this is a group of the most fiercely loyal group of women you’ll ever get in a room together.

-They hear a whisper of a complaint about their husband? It’s over for you, you’ll be dead or wishing you were by dinner. They hear you praise their husband? You’re not leaving until they’ve told you every amazing thing their husbands have ever done in their lives.

The Ultimate Uniting Factor:

-There is one person, one man, in the entirety of the known and unknown galaxy who has the ability to bring these women, even the Red Lady and the Wolf Mother, together like nobody else: Big E

-If you mumble under your breath anything that could possibly be construed as a complaint against the Emperor of Mankind then you may as well have shined the Batsignal in the air because these women are coming out of the woodwork.

-Now they are all here and they have all involved you in a conversation that couldn’t be construed as anything but absolute treason if it were to come out of anyone else’s mouth

-If you were to put these women in a room together and point a camera at them and let them talk for a few hours, every single time it would devolve into irate ranting about Big E. You would never catch a kind word about Big E falling from their lips.

-The Emperor won’t step foot in the same zip code as these women because he understands that they are down every second of every day to literally evict him from life.

-The Emperor literally started a crusade as an excuse to leave Terra because he got word that the Khatun was on her way.

-Say what you will about the Emperor of Mankind, he’s smart enough to know that these women will end him where he stands if they ever get their hands on him.

[acphengene]

Little dove

₊ ⁺ pairing: Jake x afab!reader

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate!au, sweet asf fluff and the tiniest bit of angst

₊ ⁺ wordcount: 3.2k

₊ ⁺ note: this can be read as a standalone but also as a part of my enhypen soulmate series. let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺

When Jake woke up at his 13th birthday, he frantically searched his whole body for any type of physical mark. It was generally known that it was a little easier to find your other half when your mark literally could count down the seconds until you met them.

And right there on the inside of his bicep it said ‘bite your lip one more time’ in fine red letters. He had wondered just why his soulmate would want him to bite his lip, because in the eyes of a child that caused pain and nothing else.

His family had celebrated, and he had been nothing short of excited and hopeful that he would get to meet you sooner rather than later. But as most people he would have to wait.

When he traveled to Korea to live his dream, he hoped that it would bring him closer to you. And when the dream took him to a tv-program he hoped with every bone in his body that you’d be watching and cheering him on.

The tattoo, he made sure stayed hidden, he had no interest in people who weren’t you, saying those words to him.

When he and the guys had debuted, they shared their marks with one another, there was no reason not to, and he felt lucky that he didn’t have to hurt like Heeseung, somewhat jealous that Jay had known his soulmate since he got the mark. And despite him feeling bad for his platonic soulmate, he couldn’t help but be thankful that he wasn’t markless like Sunghoon

Engene loved theorizing when it came to them and their marks. There was no doubt in the fandom that Jake had a physical mark, also no doubt that it had to be somewhere on his arm. He had a habit of almost always grabbing on to his bicep whenever he was nervous.

They could however not agree on which mark it was, but he enjoyed seeing people’s theories on social media. He felt grateful that most of the fandom was so acceptable of it, not all groups were that lucky.

One afternoon he threw himself onto Niki’s bed once again scrolling on weverse to see what their sweet fans were up to.

“Dude seriously? With your outside clothes and everything?” The young man said as he looked at his hyung with judgement in his eyes.

He only rolled his eyes. “Do you think they’ve ever posted on weverse?”

Niki shrugged. “No idea, if I’m being honest I try not to think about it too much. In the end mine is definitely not close by”

“I hope mine is close” Jake said with a far away look in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t that be korean if that was the case?” Niki said as he pointed to the red words.

Jake looked at his arm and sighed. “Fuck, I didn’t think of that”

Niki laughed. “Obviously. But don’t worry too much okay? You’ll find them when it’s time”

“How’s the string?” Jake asked as a diversion.

Niki looked down at his left pinkie, where a red string was neatly tied with a little bow. He followed it out and through the window of the room. Where it’s stretched all the way to the horizon.

“Still tight as ever, wherever they are, they’re in no hurry to get closer” He shrugged. Niki had always had a very casual way of seeing the world, and once in a while Jake needed to be reminded to take it easy.

He was right after all, the Universe had given them a soulmate for a reason, and would pull you together when it deemed fit. But sometimes that could be a little hard to accept.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust that, it was more so that he was impatient, he wanted to get to know you, sooner rather than later.

As they traveled for their tours he frantically searched every face in every crowd hoping someone would draw his attention, that he would feel that pull and calmness people so often described.

In a new city, he found himself in a Prada store, looking at a new collection, as they all were picking things out.

“What do you think?” Jay said as he held up a bag.

“Pretty sure that’s a woman’s bag” Jake said with a chuckle.

As the fashionista Jay was, he only sighed. “First of all fashion is gender less, plus it’s not for me… it’s for her. I think she’ll like it”

Jake shook his head with a smile, as he tried to avoid that sting of jealousy he always felt whenever Jay talked about his other half. He knew it was most likely harder than he ever admitted. To know her, but to not have her would be torture in and of itself.

“Do you have this with gold hardware instead of silver?” Jay asked one of the sales assistants.

“We should have one in the back, give me a second and I’ll see if I can find it”

That. Voice.

It stopped Jake's entire world as he quickly turned towards you. And as he saw your eyes and that sweet and polite smile, it was as if the world stopped spinning, and everyone around him disappeared. For a second there was only you.

You went to the back to go and fetch the bag Jay had asked for, and for a second he almost followed you behind the counter.

He stood there as a puppy waiting for its owner, eyes locked on the door you had disappeared through. His fingers drummed on the glass as his heart beat frantically.

“Jake?” Sunghoon said as he tried to get his friends' attention. When he didn’t answer, he laid a hand on his shoulder, but his eyes never left that door.

“Not now” he whispered, and it almost sounded like he was in pain, and then you walked back through the door with the dust bag and set it almost right before him.

His breath hitched when you finally looked at him. He saw how your eyes widened, how your mouth fell open in almost chock. And for a second he thought: my first words can’t just be hey.

Instead he bit his lip nervously, he had always done it. Maybe it was because of the words you were to one day say to him, maybe it was just who he was. Your eyes fell to his mouth, and he saw the subtle twitch of the corner of your mouth.

“Bite your lip one more time…” you almost whispered the words, and as if you just realized what you said your hands flew up to cover your own mouth.

A gasp filled the room from both the guys, but also their bodyguards, and the whole room stilled.

“God I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud”

Jake just smiled like a maniac, as he felt the tears prick in his eyes. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere” he said as he opened his arms for you to meet him if you wanted.

You threw yourself over the counter, not caring for the bag you had just put down, not caring for what your manager in the corner might think, not even caring for the horde of people with cameras outside the large boutique windows.

At that moment he had never felt happier. He chuckled as he pulled you as close to him as humanly possible, and the two of you stood like that until your heartbeats had calmed.

He didn’t want to let you go, so as he sat back down his hand reached out for yours and he smiled wider than he ever had when you took it and gave it a squeeze.

“You’re beautiful” he whispered and he saw you turn red almost instantly, he hoped his words would always have that effect on you.

“And you’re a romantic aren’t you?” You asked and he answered with a shrug.

You looked towards your manager who just gave you a smile and a little nod. As to say; “I understand, just go”

Jake held out his arm, and you quickly went around the counter to grab on to him. He pulled you close as the guards made sure to escort you out of the store safe and sound.

In the store behind the two of you stood Sunghoon with the biggest smile as he looked after the two of you. Sunoo was laughing in a corner as he kept repeating: did that just happen?

Jungwon smiled and said: “Finally, he was getting unbearable”

“So this is where I’m staying” Jake said as he opened the door to his hotel room. The two of you had decided it might be best for you to go there, there was no reason for you to dox yourself.

You looked around the room, but your eyes kept finding him, and every time they did his smile got wider, if that was even possible.

“C-can I see it?” you asked as you took a step closer to him. He nodded and got rid of his jacket before pulling up his sleeve, revealing the now golden words etched into his skin.

You laughed as you let your hand trace the words. Jake shuddered beneath your touch. “Oh I’m sorry, is it too much?” You stepped back to give him space, but he quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to him.

“It’s nice, I’ve been wanting this, waiting for this for so long. My hitching breath and shuddering is in nothing if not from happiness and excitement for having finally found you”

The heat once again flushed to your cheeks, and he, that cheeky bastard, he bit his lips once again. You placed your hands on your face.

“I had an idea you might be a hopeless romantic” You said turning away from his gaze.

He laughed. “Why?”

“When you have ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere’ etched into your skin from the ripe age of 13, you cant help but hope”

He felt how your words fucked on his heartstrings. “Tell me everything”

So you did; you told him how excited you were when you saw the words. How lucky your mother had told you that you would end up being because of the sweet nature of them. How your friends had fawned and been jealous.

“I know it’s not a given, and I know not all soulmates are made to be more than just platonic, but I would love to give this” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “Us a real shot”

Your cheeks were blazing hot, but you wanted to say them. In case he felt differently, you’d rather be disappointed sooner rather than later.

His hand snaked up and rested on the back of your neck, firm enough to make sure you knew he wanted you close, but still loose enough for you to get away from him if that was what you wanted.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. “I want nothing more” as if he had done it always he rubbed his nose against yours, the gesture so soft and subtle it stole a whimper from your throat.

In that very instant his eyes shot open, pupils dilated, the love he had always felt for you on full display.

“Can I kiss you?” He whisperd. His lips so close to yours he almost did by saying your words.

Instead of answering him, you closed the small gap between the two of you. His other arm snaked around your waist as yours traced his shirt, up his stomache, over his shoulders and around his neck.

You pulled him as close to you as physically possible. And he smiled agains your lips at the way you responded to him.

A knock on the door pulled you from losing your minds, hearts and souls to one another.

“Yo, love birds… wanna grab some lunch? Get to know one another?” Heeseung said on the other side.

The two of you looked at each other and laughed. Jake only raises a brow, and you nodded as a response. You couldn’t wait to get to know him and those closest to him.

Once again he stretched out his arm for you to grab on to and you did without a doubt.

“Let’s go little dove” he said with a wink.

“Wait so I’m the first?” You said with a shocked expression.

Jake had his arm around your shoulder, it felt like his heart would physically break if he were to not touch you when you were so near.

“Yeah, hopefully the rest will come soon…” Jay said with a far away gaze in his eyes.

“You miss her?” You asked him.

“Every waking minute of every day” he answered with a small smile.

Nothing short of pure torture. You thought to yourself and leaned into Jake’s embrace. He kissed the top of your head instinctively.

“God the two of you is gonna be unbearable, aren’t you?” Niki said with a groan as he took another spoon full of the broth standing in front of him.

“Especially when we leave in two days” Jungwon said, trying not to sound to harsh.

The eyes you looked at him with broke his heart. He would have to leave you behind, go on on the tour. He would be in contact sure, but this would end up breaking him and in extension you.

It was common knowledge that the first few weeks, if not months were the hardest to be without your soulmate. It was as if your souls needed one another, after being separated for so long.

“The tour isn’t don’t yet, but I’ll be back as soon as possible. Okay? I promise” Jake said as he pulled you into another close embrace.

Jungwon stole the attention by spitting out his noodles. “Why would she think now is the perfect time for chocolate pudding. I swear it’s her hobby to ruin my meals” he pushed away the bowl, as the guys laughed.

You were thankful for the change in subject, but you couldn’t help but wonder just why the universe would set you up with someone whose job was to travel the world and leave you behind.

“Hey” Sunghoon said, “why dont you just ask if you can bring her along?”

Jake remained quiet as he thought it all through. It was not impossible, he knew that it was impossible to tear some soulmates apart, and Hybe had to accommodate that, but still… you had a life, a job and friends and family. He would hate to pull you from it all.

“Let’s talk about it when we’re alone, how does that sound?” You asked him with a little squeeze of his thigh. The mere sound of your voice calmed something inside of him, and his worried eyed softened.

“As Niki said, unbearable” Heeseung said right before he was snacked in the back of the neck by Sunoo.

“As if you’re gonna be any better than them”

He only shrugged.

“I don't wanna assume you have the possibility of just leaving” Jake said as he fiddled with his fingers. He did want you to come along. He wanted to sleep with you in his arms and wake up to your kisses.

“I don’t think that I do, sure I have a few weeks of vacation left, but it’s just so short notice” you said with a sad smile.

He nodded, “I know… what if I called Prada, or maybe if one of my bosses did?”

You smiled as you stood between his legs as he was sitting on the bed, you pulled lovingly on his long hair as he looked up at you with pleading puppy eyes. God he was beautiful.

Instead of answering you kissed his lips slowly, and his arms pulled you closer. “As much as I would love that, that wouldn’t be fair. Come back to me when you’re done, in the meantime we will just have to figure something out, okay?”

And figure something out you did. Every time you had the chance you were FaceTiming, you fell asleep talking about your childhood, and while he was training you caught up on the hours worth of content.

Hybe had been kind enough to leave you with a bodyguard of your own, but so far you hadn’t needed it. It had, however, calmed Jake’s mind a lot to know you were taken care of.

“When I can’t do it, I need someone else to, okay little dove?” That had been hard to argue with.

He had been gone for a few weeks now and it felt as if your heart had been ripped from your chest, as if you were no longer whole.

You hated every second of it, you hated your stubbornness. Why wouldn’t you take him up on the offer of just going with him? Integrity… fucking pathetic. You thought to yourself as you got the store ready before it opened.

You heard the door open, and as you turned to tell the early customer you weren’t open yet you froze.

“Sunghoon” you said before giving him a bow, you had spent the weeks reading up on Korean etiquette and culture.

He bowed back before he held out an arm just as Jake did. “Come, he’s unbearable and none of us can take it any longer… he needs you” he sent you a smile that never really reached his eyes.

Instead of bolting out the door you found yourself hesitating. You had a life and a job you had worked so hard for. Sunghoon rolled his eyes as he laughed. “Don’t worry about it, we’ve taken care of it”

And for once you chose not to second guess it, and grabbed his arm.

You knocked on the door to the room, despite what the two of you did most days, you had ignored his calls all day. Jungwon had warned you, he had been sulking and sad and as good as impossible to get to do anything. Even eat.

“Go away!” You heard his voice groan from the other side. You knocked again.

“Hee, I’ve told you all day I’m just not in the… mood” he swung the door open without even checking who was on the other side.

In your hand you had a bag of food, he would need something before the concert tonight.

“Surprise?” You said with a unsure smile, cause he only stared at you.

“You’re here?” He said as his voice cracked.

You nodded. “I’m here”

And as he heard your voice once again he broke down in the door to his room, you quickly gave the food to one of the managers in the hall as you joined him where he had collapsed.

He snaked his arms around you as he sobbed into your shoulder. And as painful as it was to see him like this you had also never felt more like yourself now that he was near.

He looked at you as he stroked your cheek. “You can’t leave me again, okay?” He said as he both laughed and sobbed at the same time.

You smiled at his words, as a single tear escaped your eye. He kissed it away as quickly as it had fallen. “I won't,” you whispered.

The two of you heard a groan further down the hall and saw Niki there. “Fucking unbearble love birds” he swore under his breath.

“Language young man!” You both yelled in unison, and a laugh quickly followed.

Neither of you minded being unbearable love birds, as long as you weren’t apart.

Hi! Thank you sm for Reading! Please remember to like and reblog, and let me know if you have any theories about the others or these two sweethearts. Feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏼

[arcaneorphic]

A New Addition

Pairing: Sirius Black x Wife! Reader

Genre: Slice of life, Domestic fluff, fluff

Summary: Sirius and his wife navigate the ups and downs of parenthood.

Chapter One | Chapter Two (For Them, Always)

Word Count: 2,190

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper night’s sleep. The days blurred together in a way that felt like some kind of cruel hazing into parenthood—a relentless cycle of late-night cries, nappy changes, and the kind of exhaustion that settled deep into his bones. He had faced battles, had endured sleepless nights on the run, had fought wars both literal and personal, but nothing had prepared him for this.

And yet, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Even with the exhaustion clawing at him, Sirius took it upon himself to do whatever he could—any task, any chore, anything to make things easier for her. It was the least he could do, he reasoned. After all, she had spent nine months growing their child, bearing every ache and pain and discomfort while he had only been able to stand by, helpless to do anything but watch. His wife—the absolute goddess that she was, is, and always would be—deserved rest, deserved to sleep peacefully knowing that he was here, by her side, ready to shoulder as much of the burden as he could.

And so, he powered through.

When their baby cried in the dead of night, Sirius was already moving before she could stir, whispering for her to go back to sleep, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before slipping out of bed. When their child refused to settle, he would pace the nursery for hours, rocking them gently, murmuring nonsense and lullabies and quiet promises of I’ve got you, little one, you’re safe.

It was hard. It was exhausting. But when he looked down at their tiny, perfect baby—the child he had never imagined having, let alone deserving—none of it mattered.

Because this was his family. His home.

And there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them.

It was late. If asked, Sirius couldn’t say exactly what time it was—only that it was some ungodly hour of the night, when the world outside their home was silent and still.

He could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones, weighing down his limbs with every step he took back to their bedroom. It was a tiredness unlike anything he had ever known, a heaviness that settled into his muscles and refused to let go. He had been exhausted before—sleepless nights spent running, hiding, worrying—but this was different.

This was the exhaustion of parenthood. Of nights spent pacing the nursery, whispering to their newborn, rocking them back and forth in the dim light until they finally drifted off. It was the kind of tired that came from love, from responsibility, from the overwhelming need to be everything his child and his wife needed him to be.

And yet, he didn’t mind.

Because when he finally reached their room, when he slipped into bed and felt the familiar warmth of her beside him—his wife, his partner, the love of his life—some of that exhaustion eased.

She stirred slightly, reaching for him even in her sleep, her fingers brushing against his chest before settling.

Sirius let out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

No matter how exhausting the nights were, no matter how long the days stretched on, he wouldn’t trade any of it.

Because this was everything he had ever wanted.

Sirius wasn’t sure what had roused his wife from sleep—surely it wasn’t the way he had practically flopped onto the bed, nor the not-so-gentle kiss he had pressed to her head. All he knew was that one moment she was sleeping peacefully, and the next, he was met with a pair of tired, droopy eyes blinking up at him in the dim light.

“Christ, doll,” he started, voice low and rough from exhaustion. “Thought you were asleep. You should be asleep.”

She hummed, barely awake, shifting just enough to nestle closer to him. Sirius felt his heart squeeze at the sight.

Merlin, he loved this woman something fierce.

It wasn’t just in the grand, sweeping gestures or the way he would throw himself into a fight if it meant protecting her—it was in the quiet moments, too. The way he watched over her even when she insisted he didn’t need to, the way his hands instinctively sought hers, the way he memorized every detail of her face as if it might slip away if he didn’t hold onto it tight enough.

Gently, he brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ve got everything handled.”

And he meant it. Whatever exhaustion weighed him down, whatever chaos the night still had in store for them, he’d take it all—gladly, willingly—if it meant she could rest a little easier.

“I’ve got the next one,” she murmured, her voice so soft, so thick with sleep, that it made Sirius’ heart ache.

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he ran a gentle hand down her back. Of course she’d say that. Even half-asleep, she was still thinking of their son, still trying to share the weight of parenthood despite everything she had already done.

“Course, doll,” he agreed easily, though he had no real intention of waking her when the baby stirred again.

She had done enough. More than enough. And if he could spare her even a few more moments of rest, he would.

So when her breathing evened out, when she melted against him with the kind of trust that never failed to undo him, Sirius pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, letting his lips linger for just a second longer than necessary.

“Sleep, love,” he whispered against her skin. “I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you.”

And with that, he settled in, prepared to take on another sleepless night, for them. Always for them.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

He woke up the next morning to the sound of music playing softly downstairs. He shot up in bed, ignoring the way his sore body protested. 

How had he not woken up? 

Panic flickered through him for the briefest of moments. He had meant to take the night shift, had sworn to himself that he would be the one up with their son so she could get the rest she deserved. And yet, here he was—waking up late, tangled in the sheets, with no memory of the baby stirring at all.

She let me sleep.

The realization settled over him like a wave of guilt. As much as he had wanted to take on everything, as much as he had convinced himself that she needed the rest more than he did, she had seen right through him.

Sirius ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on the nearest shirt he could find—one of his, oversized and soft from wear—and padded toward the door, following the sound of music downstairs.

And there she was.

Standing in the kitchen, swaying slightly with their baby cradled against her chest, humming along to the song playing on the record player. Their son—so tiny, so impossibly perfect—was resting peacefully against her, completely at ease in the warmth of his mother’s embrace.

Sirius felt his heart skip.

He should have been the one up with the baby. He should have been the one rocking him through the early hours, making sure she got the sleep she needed. But this—seeing them like this, wrapped in a quiet, gentle kind of love—made him pause.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching them for a long moment.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” he finally said, his voice thick with sleep.

She turned to him with a soft smile, eyes still heavy with exhaustion but filled with something so warm it made his breath hitch.

“You needed sleep too, love,” she murmured, adjusting their son slightly in her arms. “Figured I could handle a few hours on my own.”

Sirius let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he pushed off the doorframe and made his way to her. He wrapped his arms around them both, pressing a slow kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin against her hair.

“Still think you should’ve woken me,” he muttered, voice low.

She only hummed in response, pressing a kiss to their baby’s tiny forehead before looking up at him. “I don’t want our baby thinking their father always looks like a sleep-deprived madman, letting you sleep in is a courtesy for us both”.  

He saw it then. The woman he’d fallen in love with, the one who gave as good as she got, who never failed to have an answer, retort, or correction to whatever he said. 

Even now, exhausted and running on fumes, she was still her. Still strong, still unrelenting, still the woman who had captured his heart so completely he had never stood a chance.

Sirius shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Doll, I hate to break it to you, but I think our kid is going to figure out I’m a madman sooner rather than later. Might as well let me look the part.”

She rolled her eyes, but he could see the way her smile softened, the way the weight of the night eased just a little.

And Sirius? He knew then—just as he had known every single day since she had come into his life—he would never love anyone the way he loved her.

She pretended to weigh her words before responding, “True, but I married the pretty boy, not the madman. We do need to keep up appearances.” 

Sirius laughed, something surprised and honest at her teasing, “Is that so?”

She looked at him as if he asked the most asinine question, “Yes? Darling, I thought you were aware that you were my trophy husband.” 

Sirius gaped at her, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Trophy husband?” he repeated, voice full of faux indignation. “I’ll have you know I bring so much more to this marriage than just my devastatingly good looks.”

She hummed, as if humoring him. “Oh, of course, love. You also bring unmatched levels of dramatics and a very specific talent for waking up the baby every time you insist on declaring something loudly.”

Sirius gasped, eyes wide with exaggerated betrayal. “You wound me.”

She smirked, leaning up just enough to brush her lips against his. “Oh, but you love me for it.”

He exhaled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her and their baby, a slow, lopsided grin spreading across his face. “More than anything,” he murmured.

And Merlin, wasn’t that the truth?

“Mhm, I thought so,” her voice was softer as she responded. She pressed her lips to his and even now, even after all this time and his ‘supposed’ play-boy persona, he melted. Because, if it were not for her he would have none of this—a home he longed to return to after a long day, a love so deeply embedded into his being that he hardly remembered a time before it, or even the gift of fatherhood. The very notion had once been unthinkable to him. In his youth, he had sworn off the idea entirely, laughing at the absurdity of bringing another Black into the world. He had once declared, with all the arrogance and conviction of a teenage boy, that it would be a plight against humanity to continue his family’s bloodline.

But that was before her.

Before he knew what it meant to love someone so deeply it altered the very foundation of his existence. Before he realized that it would be a disservice to the universe itself to deny it the privilege of having another piece of her in it.

So, he would ‘endure’ her teasing, take it all in stride, because he knew—deep in his bones—that every word she spoke to him, even in the midst of a disagreement, was laced with love. A love so profound, so unwavering, that it had reshaped the very foundation of his life.

She could tease him, challenge him, roll her eyes and call him a trophy husband with that knowing smirk of hers, and yet, at the end of every day, she was his, just as he was hers. They had built something together—something real, something good—a life that was once unfathomable to him.

And if her love came with sharp wit and playful jabs, Sirius would gladly take it. Because beneath every remark, every teasing insult, every deadpan look, was a devotion that ran deeper than words could ever express.

So, he laughed, shaking his head as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"Enduring this kind of suffering," he mused, voice low with affection, "might just be my greatest achievement."

She huffed a laugh, curling closer to him. “Well, at least you finally understand your place in this marriage.”

Sirius grinned, holding her and their child just a little tighter.

Yeah. He understood his place just fine. It was here. 

Always here.

[utilitycaster]

to me i feel like the hells were meant for a campaign more like cr2, which i feel like that's been discussed before even on your blog? like idk orym and braius were the only characters who actually fit this campaign, maybe imogen for obvious reasons. but laudna, fearne, ashton, chetney all felt like they belonged in a lower stakes, more personal campaign

Yes, I have talked about this extensively: honestly, either a Campaign 1 or Campaign 2 structure would have served them better. For what it's worth I feel like everyone other than Laudna managed to make something of it - Fearne and Chetney frankly did a lot of work to explore their concepts, it was just never rewarded or frankly in many cases revisited in any way (again, consequences do not mean punishment; they quite literally just mean that one's actions lead to results that follow from said actions), and while I ended up not caring much for Ashton as a character, I actually think Taliesin played them with a strong logical throughline. But it is true that the plot really, in the end, served none of them, not even Orym or Imogen (Braius it kind of did, but he was developed so late in the game that he was designed around its flaws). There was just never space to really explore the dark fairytale Ashley talked about early on; Tuyen and that other toymaker back in Marquet were never revisited nor was Ruidus's impact on Chetney nor was there an appearance of Doreo, and even Drixlich and the offers to the pirates vanished (side note but Travis is perhaps actual play's best plot thread generator and I think it's telling that he kind of gave up on that eventually because it never fucking went anywhere, after two campaigns where it consistently did). When it comes to Imogen I am reminded of the possibly apocryphal theater review for King Lear that went "the lead actor played the king as though he momentarily expected someone to play the ace;" she was a great concept but at no point inhabited her decisions meaningfully on the rare occasions she made them. Orym was never really given the opportunities Caleb had to explore grief and while I personally am okay with his deal with Morri being canceled, it plus the whole Vax thing really feel like a thumbing of the nose at Liam's RP choices across the decade. Ashton's temporary growth and then regression honestly feel very real, just deeply unsympathetic, though the ending of the story where nothing about the All Minds Burn or his talk with Shady Sally or the titans or the Hishari came up and the genuinely great moment of sacrifice turned into another "and then Essek fixes it for you" was narratively empty. But the more I think about it, the more this was largely a failure of Matt to tell a different kind of story with any measure of success. I think this campaign in many ways played hard to Matt, Marisha, and Laura's weaknesses in particular (and a little bit of Liam's if I'm being honest in the end) whereas the others embraced their strengths, and this is what happened; the rest of the cast kind of made the most of it.

[lesbianherald]

No because they’re both going through corruption arcs!!!!!! I think all the time about how S1 arc 1 Jayce and Viktor are the comic relief characters - their scenes are always a source of hope and levity when everyone else is going through the horrors of impending war and how intentional it is for when they eventually fracture. The story is literally set up so that you fall in love with these characters and then watch them lose themselves.

This is a really interesting way to look at it! I hesitate to call Viktor's a corruption arc in the traditional sense of the word because so many of the choices he makes I think are so rooted in this base desire to survive.

ok more below sorry for yapping so much today

To survive in piltover first and then just to survive in general. I think part of Viktor's arc is so interesting because he's not necessarily making all the right or safe decisions, but he's making decisions I think most people could see themselves making in his shoes.

His fatal flaw i think is his inability to see himself as someone who has support. He thinks he has to shoulder this alone. Shoutout singed! His mentor essentially signs off on his death. The bridge scene happens which makes him feel like he can't rely on Jayce. Sky is present, but he completely doesn't recognize (or want) her affection for him or her ability to help in a way that's so extreme it results in her death. Piltover doesn't give a shit about him. (Every scene in the council room with Viktor, and the scene with mel, jayce, and the weapons conversation are so important in illustrating this)

I also think his desperation to live + a bit of his internalized ableism play a huge role in Viktor's arc as we find him going back to the hexcore before having any shimmer that would guarantee his survival. He's 1000% responsible for his own actions but his own actions are so based in his lack of power in so many ways so its hard to view him and Jayce's arcs as the same type of corruption at least.

I see a really interesting thread between Viktor's arc being tied to isolation and Jayce's arc being tied to being surrounded by the wrong people (!!piltovian high society in general!!). Viktor's arc being what happens when you feel you have nobody and Jayce's arc being what happens when you have a lot of people and feel you have to please everybody.

I also see Jayce's arc as one of what happens when power you don't want gets handed to you and Viktors as what happens when no matter what you do you can never obtain the power you need. It puts them at really interesting odds.

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

here’s the OTHER leaker translation I would explode out of existence

listen.

I know, okay?

I know everyone loves this. I know everyone lost their shit for it. But I hate it.

I will admit honestly that it is 70% abject fury over the misuse of one word. Another 20% is frustration over how the fandom reacted to the official translation with such vitriol and how the leaker fueled it with their smug comments. That final 10% amounts to what some might consider pedantic or nitpicky. But I don't care.

This translation sucks. It doesn't sound cool, it doesn't sound threatening, and the leaker's rookie mistakes ruin what makes this moment great for me.

Allow me to elaborate.

The emphasis is on the wrong part

I’ve talked about some of the pronoun differences in this line before, but did you know Katsuki also changes the particles every time?

‘Cause I sure don’t think the leaker noticed. Grammar particles are what determine the relationship between words in a sentence. They pack a lot of punch, denoting subject, object, indirect object, purpose, location, time, origin point, direction of movement, means or method—and a bunch more shit that can be hard to describe.

Word order and particles work together to direct our attention to specific parts of a sentence, emphasizing the importance of what is being said. They are some of the most difficult parts of Japanese for learners to grasp and use with the same ease that native speakers do. I’m acutely aware of this weakness, so I often pay particular attention to them. Let’s break down how each iteration shifts the meaning and emphasis of the base sentence.

First time

Chapter 322 おまえが拭えねぇもんは俺たちが拭う omae ga nuguenee mon wa oretachi ga nuguu

Katsuki uses ga with both the second person pronoun for Izuku and the first person plural pronoun for himself and Class 1-A. Ga emphasizes the word that comes directly before it, so this focuses not on the verb itself, but the persons doing the verb. Katsuki's first person plural pronoun oretachi of course means "we," but if you wanted to highlight his literal meaning, he's saying: "the things you cannot handle, me and the people with me will handle."

Second time

Chapter 323 てめーが拭えねーもんはこっちで拭う temee ga nuguenee mon wa kocchi de nuguu

Here, Katsuki retains ga for Izuku’s second person pronoun, but changes both his first person pronoun and its particle, giving us kocchi de. This shifts the implication of who is doing the act—the first time, Katsuki's "we" pronoun highlighted the classmates who accompanied him and acted with him to help save Izuku. But by the time he says this line again, a number of people outside their class have stepped forward to defend Izuku’s return to UA.

Unlike distinctly singular pronouns like ore, kocchi both refers to oneself and something greater than oneself. By switching to this, Katsuki expands that narrow “me and the people with me” into “our side,” presenting the people who support Izuku as a unified force.

You see, kocchi de subtly shifts the verb to being executed by subject(s) defined by a specific characteristic or condition.

Explanations of particle de from Mainichi Nonbiri. The heading and explanation read, "Subject: 'De' is used to denote the subject who deals with or engages in the action expressed by the predicate."

The first example uses jibun de (by oneself) to describe the conditions under which the listener is asked to execute the verb. The third uses gikai de (in the parliament or by the parliament, as a governing body representing many people) to explain the plurality and nature of the subject executing the verb.

The second example uses socchi de, which is the second person "you" version of kocchi, meaning your side. With this, you can see the purpose is to highlight division: "you did that over there on your side of things without any input from me."

Kocchi de as Katsuki uses it likewise creates "sides" by highlighting connection.

These details emphasize Izuku as the person who cannot handle these things and the relationship he has with the people supporting him, a collective Katsuki aligns himself with.

If we maintain this emphasis and the conditions in a literal way, we have: "The things you cannot handle, our side will handle for you."

Third time

Chapter 405 OFA(あいつ)に拭えねーもんはこっちで拭うってなあぁああ！！！ OFA (aitsu) ni nuguenee mon wa kocchi de nuguutte naaaa!!!

I want you to look really close at the particle ni.

Then look at the way the first word balloon ends with the particle wa.

And hear me when I say that this does not emphasize Izuku.

Ni is not a particle for emphasis. If Izuku's personal inability to handle AFO were being highlighted, Katsuki could have used には, which I talk about briefly in this post:

The combination of the two particles ni and wa are used to emphasize, compare, and contrast. This is extremely telling just on its own. Izuku is emphasizing the fact that, compared to everyone he could possibly tell, he cannot tell Katsuki this. He might be able to tell other people, but when it comes to Katsuki, he cannot. Ienai does not specify where the limitation stems from, but ni wa sure implies it.

If Katsuki wanted to disparage Izuku in comparison to himself, like "that guy obviously can't handle you, so I'll do it," he would have said something like this. He even could have slapped his own singular pronoun and ga in there (俺が拭う) to emphasize himself as an individual actor. But that's not what he did.

The particle wa tells us what the topic is. Neither Katsuki nor Izuku are the topic in any iteration of this line; they are subjects engaging with the verbs. The topic is "the things OFA (that guy) can't handle."

Now, because every other time Katsuki said this line had ga in it too, wa wasn't quite as strong as it is this third time. If ga emphasizes what comes before it, then wa emphasizes what comes after. It tells us, "this is the topic, now hold onto your seats."

Katsuki is emphasizing the predicate and the verb. What's gonna happen and how it's gonna happen.

He's saying, "our side is gonna fucking crush you."

The wa particle and the separate balloons build tension, suspense, and excitement—which the leaker instantly deflates. By front-loading Katsuki as both topic and subject ("I'm the guy"), the emphasis is no longer on the promise of destruction he will deliver on.

The emphasis is indisputably on the part after the balloon break, so the mention of Izuku ("when that nerd can't handle it all on his own") reads weirdly like an insult. Hell, most of the words the leaker uses are about Izuku's inability to handle the situation, which bloat the second half of the line and effectively kill the momentum.

Fumbling the flow of a line is a common mistake for amateur translators. Sometimes, it's hard to avoid because Japanese grammar is often the inverse of English grammar; maintaining the original order may render it awkward or even unintelligible.

But that is not the case here.

pikahlua's literal translation

There's no reason to reorder the clauses. You can spruce up the wording, but the lines are perfectly understandable and effective in this order even at their most literal.

The leaker chose to reorder the lines this way, and their translation is worse for it.

Viz Comparison

Official translation by Viz

After what I've said about particles, pacing, and emphasis, I think you can plainly see that the official translator understood these details and made his own choices to highlight them.

Any time you get text with furigana (explained here), you have to decide how to incorporate those dual pieces of information into the text. He could have translated this as "that guy couldn't keep you in the ground," but instead he prioritized the reference to OFA.

By doing this, Viz's translation avoids the implication of insult towards Izuku that the leaker falls prey to.

He also made the choice to translate kocchi as "we."

First, I’m bringing this post back around to remind people that kocchi is a pronoun of ambiguous plurality. This means that an interpretation of “we” is just as correct as an interpretation of “I.” Readers may interpret it differently, but on simply linguistic grounds, they are of equal validity. You will often see this kind of ambiguous language used in Japanese, even with characters that are forthright. The reason is one part cultural expectation that the listener will read between the lines, and one part a willingness to accept two things as simultaneously true. This exists and is frequently found in English as well, there just isn’t a direct parallel for kocchi itself.

A number of people were infuriated by this, because they felt some sort of bkdk moment was erased by Katsuki saying "we" rather than "I."

Yet it seemed like these same people were also mad one week prior when the leaker and the official translator worded Katsuki's rallying cry slightly differently.

Chapter 404. Leaker, left. Official, right.

The claim there was apparently that the official translator was ignoring Katsuki's character development.

And like, which is it, guys? Do you want him centering the collective or himself?

The fact is that the official translation's characterization of Katsuki in the final battle is internally consistent with itself, while the leaker's is all over the goddamn place. Let us never forget that the leaker was just straight up WRONG here while the official got it exactly right.

Chapter 408. Leaker, left. Official, right.

People were losing their shit that Viz made Katsuki "insult himself" and "expect failure" as though he's never used temee to refer to himself self-deprecatingly before.

And then the leaker just had to pretend that didn't happen in the next fucking chapter, while the official got to correctly reiterate their interpretation like they were taking a victory lap.

Chapter 409. Leaker, left. Official, right.

All of this makes it unbelievably rich for the leaker to go and say shit like this:

The leaker is an amateur translator. They spent ages stealing an artist's work and releasing it illegally for a profit with shoddy translations and misleading, even outright false "summaries."

Based on the nature of their translation mistakes, it is obvious to me that they are not fluent in Japanese, yet here they are bragging about their inability to understand how kocchi could mean "we."

Right before the line in question, Katsuki emphasizes himself as an individual in declaring himself to be the final boss.

Chapter 405 俺がラスボスだ AFO!! ore ga rasu bosu da AFO!!

And then, by using ってな, Katsuki is basically quoting himself.

"I said we were gonna handle what that guy couldn't, didn't I!?"

This suggests he is repeating the established meaning for emphasis, not changing it. If kocchi was plural when he said it in chapter 323, it's reasonable for it to still be plural here. Katsuki is not ignoring himself as an individual by doing this; he is rubbing it in AFO's face that neither he nor Izuku are solitary actors fighting this battle alone, they both belong to something greater than themselves.

I'm gonna step up on a soapbox for a bit.

I am kinda tired of people calling Japanese vague. I often see it used to imply Japanese is inherently hard to understand or that doesn't have the capacity for specificity. Like any language, Japanese can be used to express specific, clear, and direct information. While it is true Japanese culture values indirectness as a way to maintain harmony, I would like to challenge the ethnocentricism I feel sometimes goes unaddressed in this topic.

Japanese is less tolerant of repetition and verbal excess than English is; information that has been established should only be repeated for a purpose. Japanese speakers expect their conversation partners to maintain awareness of context, social expectations, and specific interpersonal information to grasp the intended meaning of their words. Specificity is doled out when it is warranted or desired.

Specificity divides one thing from another, drawing lines in the sand and saying "this is this, and that is that." English often requires repetitive specificity to even be grammatically comprehensible. And while this might not be directly related, many English-speaking countries tend to have a more individualistic outlook on society than collectivist countries like Japan.

To me, "vague" often smacks of a value judgment: "there should be division here, and there isn't."

I said earlier that kocchi creates division by highlighting sides, us vs. them, but when people press on and ask, "but did he say we or I? which did he REALLY mean?" I just want to say that really? truly? he meant both. all of the above.

I think it is unproductive to think of Japanese as vague just because it doesn't exclude possibilities as often or as strongly as English does. I think it is a lot more useful and interesting to think of Japanese as expansive.

Why should there be division between Katsuki and the people fighting by his side? Why should he separate himself from the people who saved his life and risked their own in relentless pursuit of their common, heroic goal?

Why is it unacceptable to imagine an "I" belonging so sincerely and wholly to a "we" that their voices are one?

Katsuki's words reflect the fact that this fight being fought by a collective, a team.

In this context, OFA is a weapon in their arsenal, just as Katsuki himself is.

He is a force of nature, an agent of their willpower.

Chapter 404

He rode upon the winds of their prayers, ushered on by Izuku's hopes

and his own regrets,

to change the course of fate itself.

For much of the series, Katsuki is our beacon of individualism, of defiant refusal to bend to the will and expectations of others.

But Katsuki is also our image of victory. He shows us how to face our failures and change our hearts. He is our proof that rejecting others only hurts us in the end—his love for Izuku and Izuku's love for him is the story's greatest proof that as human beings, we are not better alone, we are better with each other. Other people change us, inspire us, and we do the same for them.

We need each other. We belong to each other.

It is in this final battle where Katsuki becomes his truest self, overcoming every obstacle in his path, making up for every painful regret in his heart, and utilizing every single thing in his grasp to save and win.

If Katsuki ever truly belonged to something bigger than himself, it is in this moment right here.

English divides the one from the many, and while that has its benefits, I think there is real, honest beauty to be found in a word that smooths those lines in the sand until there is no distinction at all.

That's who the fucking "we" is, rukasu.

Now onto my next gripe.

Katsuki is supposed to sound badass here

Frankly, the fan fury surrounding Viz's use of "we" completely overshadowed the fact that the phrase "One For All couldn't keep you in the ground" is fucking metal.

It rules. I'm fucking jealous I didn't write those words. It is such a good translation and it packs so much punch and I wouldn't have thought of it in a thousand years.

The official translator focuses his efforts on genre-specific tone translation, and sometimes he really nails it. I will freely admit that I find his style grating or overwrought at times, and indeed, one of his key weaknesses is that the flavor of comic-book dialogue he pulls from can sound one generation too old to be cool.

One of the most damning examples of this is him having Katsuki utter the word "bub"—

Chapter 406

—which I think no English-speaker under the age of 30 had actually heard before Deadpool & Wolverine came out.

Honestly, if you just read Wolverine comics from the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s, you can see the character archetype he leans into for Katsuki's dialogue. 405's tagged-on "—and then some!!" is straight out of American action movies.

But the main point here is that Katsuki is taunting AFO and threatening him. He blows up AFO's face, announces himself as the final boss, then vows to kick his ass to death on behalf of everyone. It's amazing.

The line sounds cool as fuck in Japanese. The "naaaa" flourish at the end is nearly untranslatable in any direct way that still captures the appeal and impact of it.

I tend to think of sentence enders like this as flavor text or tone tags. To properly convey them in English, you may have to add a bunch of words, and you have to choose them carefully.

All of this is to say, the official translation tries pretty hard to make Katsuki sound cool. Do they succeed? I think to an extent, they do.

I actually think it's possible the translator did recognize the callback, but wasn't satisfied with the effect of repeating it. You can see that "finish the job" is supposed to link Izuku's actions to theirs, while also sounding grandiose and final.

The Viz translator might've simply prioritized showcasing the cool-guy threat while maintaining the collectivist angle, rather than matching the callback word for word. I don't really think that's the best choice, but I can see why it might be made.

The leaker's translation doesn't make any real effort to up the ante. Maybe this line is cool to somebody, but it ain't me.

In fact, are we ever gonna acknowledge that the leaker's translation just scoops up most of its wording from the official release of chapters 322 and 323?

"I'm the guy who steps in when that nerd can't handle it all on his own!!"

The leaker was not responsible for these translations, but just look at how other people tried to grapple with Katsuki's metaphor.

In fact, the only person whose choice of words prophetically matched Viz was pikahlua, four days before the official release:

And even then, you can see that "step in when" is unique to Viz.

I'm not saying that similarities in translation are unacceptable or that directly referencing the official release is bad, but I do find it truly incredible they had the gall to shit-talk the official translator after cheating off his damn homework.

The leaker basically contributed six words: "I'm the guy who" and "that nerd." I personally disagree with "the guy who" as a translation addition, just because I think it too strongly isolates him in a way that using "I" and "I'm" by themselves do not, but it wouldn't have been terrible if they had also maintained the original clause order: "One For All couldn't handle you... but I'm the guy who—", something like that.

This brings us to my final gripe.

Katsuki did not say “that nerd.”

The leaker made that shit up, they inserted it for no reason and ignored the two pronouns the original text actually provides, OFA and aitsu (that guy).

In the manga, Katsuki has never called Izuku a nerd to villains, not once. It is rare for him to use it while speaking to someone other than Izuku, period. It’s an insulting pet name he uses towards Izuku or while muttering angrily to himself about Izuku.

To be clear, the narrator who uses "shitty nerd" is not Katsuki, they merely validate the accuracy of his nickname for Izuku. Yes, I just linked to my tag for the whole damn 348 chapter, because I've argued against this theory a lot, just read 'em all, it's a good time.

By my count, he only uses it once while talking to Todoroki in chapter 42 and once to Ochako in a 5-page bonus chapter for the first character guide, set shortly after chapter 65. Both take place very early in the series and both are examples of his intense grudge against Izuku.

Did you know that the last time Katsuki uses "nerd" towards Izuku directly is in chapter 320?

Who's ignoring Katsuki's character development again?

The fact is the word doesn't exist in 405's text, and there just isn't precedent for him to say it to All For One.

Trash-talk doesn’t work if your opponent has no clue what the hell you’re talking about. AFO would have no idea who “that nerd” is even supposed to be, because they were not already discussing Izuku, unlike both canon instances of Katsuki using it in conversation with others. The audibly-pronounced aitsu just means "that guy over there (physically near neither you nor me)" and you could argue that is unclear, too, but it's relatively neutral and context clues everyone in to the fact that he means Izuku, with whom he just did an explosive, flying duo move.

I think some bkdk fans were keen to see him use the tsundere insult we all love so much, but it just doesn't read right to me. Writing an insult towards Izuku into this kind of line, even an affectionate one, misdirects the aggression and fails to highlight how Katsuki makes a mockery of AFO during their fight.

I really do think it undercuts how, in his big moment of taunting the greatest villain in history, Katsuki brings up making good on a vow he made to Izuku.

And let's not forget that there is a definitive moment where Katsuki references his relationship with Izuku while taunting AFO:

Chapter 406

To roast the villain for his stupidity in misidentifying him, Katsuki loudly announces himself to be Bakugou no Kacchan.

Katsuki proudly identifies himself with the cutesy nickname his childhood friend has used for him their whole damn lives. That's a far cry from somebody who'd insult Izuku just to hype himself up.

So, no, I don't accept "that nerd." I think the leaker just added it to make their translation sound cooler, but they did so at the expense of Katsuki's character. It's tacky, cheap, and not based in any honest reading of the text.

Put the nickname in your fanworks however brings you joy. Really, go for it, I know I sure do!

But let's not pretend Katsuki said it here.

In conclusion

Katsuki's dialogue offers a unique array of challenges to translators. I would never argue that he is easy to translate, and so much of his characterization is expressed in the minutiae of what he says. Much of his dialogue contains layers of meaning, and any translator is going to have to make a call about how to interpret those layers and what to highlight.

I made this post to say my piece about a translation tons of English-speaking fans love. In the process of dissecting what frustrated me about it, I researched and studied and learned so much.

And to be honest with you, I don't know that I have a solution for this line. I thought of a ton of options:

One For All couldn't keep you in the ground... but we're here to step in and finish the job once and for all!!

I promised we'd step in when that guy couldn't handle it on his own... and I fucking meant it!!

After all, what One For All can't handle... he's got us here to handle for him!!

One For All couldn't stop you… so it's a good thing that guy's got us here to step in and finish the job!!

If the guy with One For All can't get it done alone... then we're here take you down for him!!

Maybe One For All couldn't handle the job alone... but our side is still gonna kick your ass!!

Some of them are very fun, and each highlights a different set of priorities: collectivism, connection, coolness, intimidation, and so on.

But you could pick apart my words the same way I picked apart the leaker's and Viz's.

There will never be a one true translation. There can't be. For as many readers as there are, there are just as many interpretations to what Katsuki's words mean and what is important about them.

In every translation, you face loss—loss of information, loss of specificity, loss of ambiguity, loss of emotionality, loss of cultural meaning. Your job as a translator is to lose as little as possible, and to make sure you can stomach the things you do lose.

You also gain things in translation. New meanings, new layers, new cultural implications. By showing the audience what you see and choosing how you say it to them, you add something of yourself to the work. You can't not.

As a translator, I want to keep learning and trying and going beyond. I want to do right by the things I translate. I want to share the things I love with other people and figure out, as best I can, how to make them see what is beautiful about it.

Unlike Bakugou Katsuki, we translators can never achieve a perfect victory.

But it's always worth trying.

[gayofthefae]

Know how I know payoff moments of love go before or after the big battle not during? Not just because that has been the case for every other one (Milkvan s1, Jancy s2, Lumax s2, Jancy s3, Jopper s3, Milkvan s3, Jopper s4) but because they have a different major payoff "I love you" EXACTLY where Mike and El's WOULD have gone if they were endgame.

That's right. I've said it before, if they were endgame, he wouldn't have been interrupted by Argyle and would have said it. Because those moments need to have no stakes or incentive to say what needs to be said, need to be able to be a dialogue, and be without too much urgency so that everything feels entirely voluntary - the main issue with the ily speech as is. He should have said it there, when all those things were true. But instead they gave it to...

Will and Jonathan. They cut Mike off, making him laugh using that only to prompt Will's sadness that alerts Jonathan to tell Will he loves him. People talk about Will being in service to Milkvan, but Mike seemingly almost saying it here only existed to PROMPT Will's!

They put it right there. Where we all know it's supposed to go. Big loving payoff to his season arc. Literally RIGHT before the big battle. It is the last thing they do before leaving that conversation to tell El they're ready to start. It is the last thing ANY of them do before. Lumax are the same, the movie date established then interrupted by Erica's signal to start.

Which means they know damn well the rule. They know so deeply that they won't cross the line into saying it during the battle that they go right up to the edge but NEVER past. They clearly and consistently demonstrate the limit being hit and stopped by it. It is a hard line. They know what it implies to cross it, to add stakes, to add incentive. And they crossed it.

They know exactly where to place it in the episode. We know. Because they gave it to somebody else.

They did what writers love to do in these situations. They purposefully wrote two options to be mutually exclusive then acted like their hands were tied when they only chose one. But they put Will in Mike's spot. They used Mike's seeming-attempt to PROMPT Will's ONLY.

They put both Lumax and Will and Jonathan's payoff the scene leading directly into the battle. They could have put Mike and El's too. They were never limited to one. Need separate locations? Have them prep the glasses in the car, where he grabbed them from! Many many ways to write.

But instead, they wrote themselves the perfect opportunity for it, so much so that they INDICATED THAT TO THE AUDIENCE VERY HEAVILY...then gave it to somebody else.

"I just wanted to say that..." El looks hopeful- he doesn't say it and they cut to Jonathan telling Will he loves him.

That knew damn well where to put it. They didn't.

[yellowcry]

You know what time is it? It's time to yap about the new solarballs episode because I loved it

Uranus, please, calm down and think for a moment. I feel so bad for him tbh. For the first time he had a chance to become something other than a joke and unfinished parody of Saturn with weird tilt. Just for reality to smash it into pieces. And the last scene, where he threatens to leave... like you can see he just begs for attention. But, just as always, the ice giants are forgotten...

Mars seems as the most conflicted. Well he did admire Jupiter. Honestly I'm glad the planets aren't all immediately jump to hug one another but seem to have pretty hard feelings in case of the rocky planets. Saturn and Neptune are probably the only ones genuinely happy. (And be real, we all could expect this from Saturn)

"Let's not pull this stunt with heading into the sun again" MERCURY I'M GONNA THROW YOU INTO THE SUN MYSELF RN this is literally the best way to make suicidal person even more suicidal why did you have to say this. 😭😭/hj No but I understand he's probably stressed too. Pretty nice to see Mercury putting his feelings first. This isn't right, but just as Uranus, it all makes a lot of sence. And the way Mercury got unsulted at being called 'a moon' bro weren't you told not to treat them as inferiour? Honestly, this kinda returns to the point where planet, while they DO love their moons, they see them as lesser.

But seriously can anyone put earth to therapy again. And jupiter. And sun. And honestly the entire solar system.

Low-key dissapoined that they called past Earth 'Proto.' Proto is kinda shortened of Prototype. And prototype of what he was? The current Earth? They couldn't even be aware of his existence? (Say I as if the fact their names before humanity make any sense at all). I am a deep Gaia believer. (Or at least Terra)

Jupiter reunited with his moons! Finally! I've been waiting for this for the past ten years lolz. 'Wait that was real?' The best reaction one could have. But omg they are so wholesome. And seing Europa tear up wasn't on my 2025 bingo card. The entire scene was honestly so sweet. Solarballs for real let Ganymede be hurt. (Fair, Jupiter wouldn't have to question his state. Question is only WHY is he healed in the patreon previem like it takes place right after the episode??). But dang it, nice to see that despite everything they love one another.

'Are you really saying hi to me or is it another one of your lies?' Sun, are you okay? Like mentally/j i know he is not. But this is the weirdest reaction one could have.

The fact planet X didn't lose suddenly makes a big mess. I mean, Jupiter won't be ejected again that's for sure. But damn, it would be so easier if moons had actually won. Bro, Ganymede looks so guilty when sun reminds planet X won the challenge. But Sun I am still pissed off at how you made them play an asteroid dodgeball. Kinda hope he would be confronted on this fact in the next episode.

[vintagesimstress]

Northern & Southern European Dyes Palette(s)

It's been almost exactly two years since I made my Iron Age Palette. To celebrate that anniversary... No, you know what, actually not, it's a total coincidence 😅 I was working on a new thing and started wondering about this and that; to not bore you with the details, let's just say that one thing let to another and of course I ended up revisiting the very basics. So here it is! Not one, but TWO new colour palettes for our oldtime-y sims. Based on the lives of my Britons at some point in 1st century CE, shortly before the Roman conquest.

An important note: the southern palette is actually rather an add-on than a separate palette. As in, Romans would surely have access to the dyes from the northern palette as well. But as stated above, I made this whole thing from the viewpoint of a British Celt, hence we have two palettes: one with dyes which he could just obtain from native plants and the other with those he'd have to import. The southerners were more blessed in this aspect :]

You can download PDF files for both of those palettes and .txt files to be used in Paint.net (put them in Documents\paint.net User Files\Palettes). If anyone wants to help me out and make them useable in Photoshop too, please go ahead!

DOWNLOAD them on my Patreon! (always free, no early access etc.)

Apart from a bunch of visual changes (maybe the font will actually be readable this time? Gasp!), there's some new stuff in the palettes themselves (duh). Let's take a quick look, shall we?

undyed wool - hard to call it a dye, lol, but ofc it had to be here. The so-called primitive sheep of the Brittonic era looked quite different from what we imagine when we think 'sheep', and they most certainly came not only in white, but also in many shades of brown or even black. Perfect for making a colourful garment even without any dyes;

birch leaves - easy to obtain, easy to dye; almost no changes here, other than one added shade which used to be under 'mixed ingredients' before;

birch bark - OK, I don't remember where I took the old colours from, but I'm afraid I was being too optimistic. Birch bark gives rather pinkish than reddish shades; actually, it needs a looooooong soak and proper pH to turn anything but very bright, subtle pink. But it seems you can get them and they don't wash out that easily, so - there you go;

elderberry - here I was for sure being too optimistic, especially with that one pretty, saturated blue shade which got thrown away. From what I've read (and seen in photos...), elderberry is a very tricky dye, not particularly water- and lightfast. 'Not particularly' is mildly put - it just washes out in no time, leaving you either with a very pale or very greyish shade of the once vibrant colour. Adjusted accordingly (and they're still too pretty tbh);

apple leaves/twigs - that's a bit of a tricky point, because the Internet claims it was only Romans who brought apples to Britain. But at the same time apple cider was Britain's national drink allegedly already during the Celtic times. Heck, Welsh mythical island of Avalon literally means 'isle of apples', and mythology tends to be... you know... old. Huh? After a bit of research on the topic I'm inclined to believe that what Romans really brought with them were big, sweet apples and their organised cultivation; but small, tart, 'untasty' varieties did exist in Britain even before, growing in the wild. Perfect for making cider - or dyes 😉;

nettle - no changes here. Easy, cheap, grows everywhere, just that the colours are probably not something you'd wear to a party;

hedge bedstraw - seems it's growing everywhere in Britain, so it's plausible the ancients would've made use of it;

lichen - aaaaalriiight, now, that is a big discovery! Beautiful shades and absolutely possible to obtain from the varieties growing on the British Isles. One of the most crucial omissions from my old palette, here finally in its full glory.

That was it for the northern palette. And the southern? Glad you asked:

weld - previously called 'dyer's rocket', but no one in the whole wide natural dyeing Internet calls it that. Beautiful, vibrant, very steady yellow; won't give away even if you overdye it with indigo or woad. It's native to the Mediterranean and while it was cultivated in Britain in later centuries, I have no reason to believe that was also the case in 1 c. CE. I dub it imported;

madder - I keep reading that it's giving saturated red shades, but I have yet to see anyone dye a skein of yarn deep red with madder only. All that keeps popping up in pictures are gentle, pinkish reds, so that's what I included in my palette too. The orange comes from changed pH of the water;

woad - OK, that's my most epic fail of all. To make a Celtic palette and not include woad?! Putting aside the whole matter of Britons possibly maybe but actually maybe not using it to paint their faces (a very controversial matter, let's not go there 😅), woad was the blue dye in those times. Indigo was far away and while it was being imported to Rome, afaik it was used mostly for painting, not cloth dyeing; and besides, as crazy as it may sound, woad seems to do the job better. Seriously. Higher water and light fastness. The question is, was it cultivated in Britain or imported? Just like weld, it's native to the Mediterraean. There is a British find of a bunch of woad seeds, from 1 c. BCE - but then again, it's just one find. So... Mostly imported but slowly being introduced to the Isles? Maybe?

mixed ingredients - the ingredients specified in the PDFs are given in the order they're used - that makes a difference! My biggest discovery of this whole natural dyeing research is that, surprisingly, vibrant green is the absolutely most difficult colour to obtain. That dark green you see at the bottom - so-called Lincoln green - requires super high levels of both weld and woad, and you must put your yellow skein in the blue dye asap - if you're too slow, you get a lighter shade, e.g. like the one above it. The Hightowers surely knew how to show they're rich, huh...?

and last but not least, the luxury dyes! Some imported from far away (turmeric), some from nearby lands (Tyrian purple), some even grown locally (there were saffron plantations on Sicily. True story), but nevertheless, all super duper expensive. Tyrian purple was actually legally reserved for the emperor only - even if you could, by some miracle, afford it, you'd probably get arrested if you dared to dress in that particular shade of purple. Good that lichens could always come to the rescue!

Guess that's enough of behind-the-scenes trivia, isn't it? Props to you if you managed to get to this point, lol. Have fun with the palettes and happy recolouring!

***

Sources:

dzikiebarwy.com - in Polish, but the pictures should speak for themselves. Here you've got a post about dyeing with summer plants, including birch leaves, here - elderberry, here - apple leaves and twigs, here - nettle;

https://woolandpalette.com/blogs/news/making-vibrant-green-with-natural-dyes was my first step in finding out how to obtain a proper green shade with natural dyes;

wooltribulations.blogspot.com - dyeing with birch bark (here), another failed elderberry experiment (here) and overdyeing weld with woad for a deep Lincoln green shade (here);

www.jennydean.co.uk - an absolute godsend, especially two posts: 'Dyes of the Celts' (here) and 'Colours of the Romans' (here);

https://craftinvaders.co.uk/making-dye-from-lichen/

https://earlychurchhistory.org/fashion/colors-dyes-for-clothing-in-ancient-rome/ - on the posh dyes for the rich;

https://www.butserancientfarm.co.uk/gallery - except for the general vibe (*chef's kiss*), the 'animals and nature' section of the gallery has pictures of the 'primitive' sheep which they keep at the farm;

...and a bunch of others which I didn't save in my bookmarks 🙃

[hapuchika]

Machiavellian

Part 1

Warnings: Just detailed injuries

Summary: honestly I can’t think of a summary. It’s just villain reader.. or maybe antihero reader. Idk check AO3

A/N: this has not been proof read and I just kinda word vomited this thing. Anyway. Hope you enjoy, byeee

X—X—X—X—X

You checked your watch and sighed. Twelve minutes left until showtime. You looked around the safe, the door wide open, while the staff sat tied up. You were sitting in a less-than-comfortable chair, your feet on piles of cash lined up.

You told the receptionist, “You know, for a team that has a literal speedster, they sure do take their time.”

She merely nodded wide-eyed, still unsure whether her life was in danger or not.

Five minutes left. You stood up, stretching, contemplating whether you should take down the initial barrage of guards or not. It wouldn’t take much work, but you didn’t want to be sweaty when they arrived.

You walked around the inside of the safe, trying to decide which position would look the coolest. You glanced back at your watch and realised they should have entered the building by now. Quickly sitting back on the chair, you got your daggers out. Smiling at the faint purple and red hue.

It had taken you two years to finally make these daggers that suited you. Imbued with magic and poison, these daggers were perhaps the most lethal ones in this universe, capable of killing gods. Well, only three so far, but maybe another one soon enough.

The sound of footsteps brought you back to the present. Ten men in black armour brandished some fancy guns, all of which were pointed at you.

You slowly stood up, chuckling when you heard those NPCs cocking their guns. It took a mere wave of your dagger to start shooting, all of which missed. You moved too quickly, almost as though you knew exactly where each bullet was headed. Deflecting any bullets you could not dodge in time; it looked nearly practiced.

It took a little under three minutes before the guards had their tendons sliced and passed out, save for one guard who received the purple dagger delivered straight to his crotch. You grinned at him, pulling your dagger out, the serrated part ripping parts of his genitalia out with it.

You basked in his screams until you heard the voice you had been waiting for all along.

“That’s enough, Y/n. One more move, and you’re going down. Hard.”

You turned around to find the black widow pointing her fist towards you, her widow bites waiting to be launched.

You raised your hands in surrender, the two daggers vanishing into thin air.

Natasha’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before darting to the hostages, her shoulders imperceptibly relaxed when she found them safe in the corner, not a drop of blood on them.

“Don’t make this har-“

“I surrender”, you interrupted, a mocking smile taking over your features.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed; she tilted her head as Tony said something into her earpiece.

Your smirk widened. “So… we’ve got five more minutes before our foreplay is interrupted? Let’s enjoy it while we have the time.”

If the assassin was surprised, she didn’t show it. You ran towards her, dodging the first widow bite. You grinned as the both of you got into the rhythm of the fight. You ducked a punch, getting into her space as she was about to kick. You saw a hint of a smile as your breaths mingled. Quickly jumping back, you narrowly avoided the knife that slashed where your chest would have been.

“Sweetie,” you tutted, “if you wanted my clothes off, you could’ve just asked.”

She huffed, struggling to hide the smile beneath her cold exterior.

The both of you stared at each other for a moment, and your eyes snapped over her shoulder for just a moment as you smirked and nodded.

Natasha whirled around, cautious of an attack, only to find herself staring at a blank wall. Her gaze snapped back to the space where you were supposed to be. Your laugh trailing down the corridor.

Cursing under her breath, she chased after you to the main entrance of the bank. She snuck behind you, seeing as your back was facing her.

“About time… You wouldn’t happen to be skipping cardio, would you, Tash?” You asked without turning around.

Indignation flittered through her as she lunged at you. The two of you tumbled and rolled on the ground until Natasha found herself on the floor, her hands and legs pinned by yours.

The widow did her best to hide the heat crawling up her neck at the sight of you straddling her hips.

She stared into your eyes as you leaned closer, your lips nearly touching her earlobe.

“Any moment now…” You whispered softly

It took every ounce of willpower to prevent her eyes from fluttering shut.

Seconds later, red whisps enveloped your body and flung you towards the wall.

Natasha remained where she was, the sight of you slamming into the wall echoing in her head.

“You’re welcome.” She heard Wanda say as the witch gently landed at the entrance.

“I had it handled.” The assassin retorted, standing next to Wanda, preparing for their next attack.

The two of them knew fighting you was an ‘all hands on deck’ situation, but there was something about the energy between you three that was downright intoxicating.

You stood up, stretching and popping the cricks in your neck. Groaning in satisfaction at the release.

You looked at the two of them, smiling in delight.

“I have to say,” you said, your grin widening. “I certainly appreciate you cushioning my fall, gorgeous”

Natasha didn’t need to look at Wanda to see the blush rising in her face.

“However,” you continued, “Just to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

You clicked a button on your wrist gauntlet, and a low buzz emanated from the device.

As soon as the buzz stopped, your body shimmered for a moment.

“Now then,” you started, summoning your daggers, “Shall we continue?”

Thus, the three of you got into yet another fight that looked almost choreographed.

Wanda quickly realised she wasn’t able to summon her whisps directly onto you, so she resorted to throwing them as concussive blasts along with whatever debris or furniture she could find.

Not that it did either of them any good; you always dodged every attack as though you knew exactly what they were going to do before they did it.

It should have annoyed Wanda, yet it just made her enjoy the fight more. She didn’t need to restrain herself with you. Didn’t need to risk anyone getting too injured.

Natasha was experiencing something similar. She had given up long-range attacks and stuck to hand-to-hand. Your moves were not identical to hers but instead complemented hers. You seemed graceful, never putting too much pressure or force, almost as though you’d practiced this fight hundreds of times.

She shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help enjoying the movement. Her and Wanda’s attacks were well-timed; there was no risk of Wanda’s attack hitting her.

The three of you got lost in the fight, trading blows and quips. You flirted your ass of, while they may or may not have reciprocated.

Suddenly, you froze, your head snapped towards Natasha. Catching both of the Avengers by surprise, Wanda’s attack caught you, flinging you across the room.

Still staring at Natasha, you throw the dagger in your left hand midair, narrowly missing her shoulder.

For the second time that day, you were thrown across the room; this time, however, you hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

Wanda gasped, eyes wide in shock. She immediately ran to check on you, her supposed enemy.

Natasha spun to your target, knowing your aim could rival Clint’s. She saw one of the shield agents with her knife in his hand. There seemed to be a sizzling hole in his crotch; what shocked her was the dagger in his chest. His body was seizing, mouth foaming.

She knew the dagger was poisoned; that much was clear. She did not know which poison it was; she could not think of a single poison that made the victim’s skin bubble, not just at the entrance of the wound, but his skin everywhere seemed to be bubbling, his eyes had rolled back as his body finally stopped seizing.

She turned back to you only to stop in her tracks. With this angle, there is no way the agent could have aimed at you. The only person he could have hit was… her.

There was no way you could have seen him… Just what were you?

Meanwhile, Wanda approached you. You were already starting to get up from the ground; there was a hint of blood coming from your scalp.

You looked at her with a soft smile. “I’m okay, darling. You didn’t hurt me,” you said.

Wanda’s shoulders relaxed at the reassurance; she did her best to ignore the way her heart fluttered at the endearment.

She stood tall and cleared her throat, “You’re under arrest, Y/n.”

You stared at her, a slight smirk making its way across your features.

“Is that so?” You challenged, “You think you can catch me all by yourself, printcessa?”

Wanda rolled her eyes, a smile breaking through her façade.

Your eyes flickered to where Natasha knelt towards the guard you had killed. You knew she would notice it soon enough; you needed to leave by then.

You returned your gaze to Wanda, breath hitching at the position the both of you were in. You, on your knees, while she stood tall.

Wanda seemed to realise the same, her eyes looking at you with a slight predatory gaze.

Good Lord, these women would be the death of you.

You shoved your arousal as far away as you could. Slowly summoning the poison dagger behind you so she wouldn’t see.

You tried the ‘looking over her shoulder’ trick, but her gaze remained on you throughout.

“Wanda…” You said slowly, a slight tremor in your voice.

“Y/n..” She replied, her voice husky.

“I have to go.” You told her, your eyes never leaving hers.

She didn’t reply, her gaze heated. She took one step towards you.

You braced your heart and lunged at her, nicking her with your dagger. Wanda’s eyes widened in shock as she jumped back. But it was already too late; the blade had cut her.

She stared at you in shock, her vision going hazy. Her knees buckled as you quickly held her, slowly laying her down comfortably.

The last thing she heard before everything went dark was your voice.

“Come find me... both of you.”

Wanda felt a soft kiss on her forehead, and then everything went black.