#his story his parents his family all that

[queen-of-the-avengers]

An Enigma

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: angst, blood, threat of violence, unwanted touching, harassment

Summary: You and Bucky are in an arranged marriage set up by both your parents. It’s a way to keep the peace between your two families. You thought Bucky didn’t care for you, but when someone from your past comes back into your life, Bucky makes it known that all he ever thinks about is you.

Square Filled: au: no powers (2024) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You step into the kitchen but keep to the wall in intimidation. Your husband is standing there with his back to you. He’s shirtless with only a pair of slacks on. You’re not sure what is more hot. Him being shirtless or dressed in a three-piece suit. He has his phone to his ear so you don’t dare interrupt him, scared of what he might do or say to you. It’s not that you’re scared he’ll beat you, it’s just that he’s always so stoic and rarely shows his emotions.

There’s something you want to ask him but you’re scared of what he’ll do when you ask it. He’s your husband for god sake. Just go up to him and ask him! Your inner personality isn’t as scared of him as you are. You wouldn’t be this way if you had married him out of love. No, this marriage was arranged by yours and his parents. You were forced to be his wife, so you’re not even sure he loves you much less likes you.

Still, your marriage meant a truce between your family and his, but that doesn’t mean he stopped hating your family.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in and say something?”

You snap out of your own thoughts and look at Bucky who is now facing you. His shirtless back is almost as delicious as his shirtless front, but you’re too nervous to appreciate the sight in front of you.

“I just wanted to ask you something.”

Bucky looks you up and down, studying your behavior and body language. You’re jumpy, your hands are sweaty and shaky, and you can barely meet his eyes for more than five seconds.

“Why do you look so scared?” He smirks. “I won’t bite.”

“My dad called.” His smirk is lost. “He’s having a family dinner next week. He wants both of us there.”

“I see.”

“I’d be really happy if you came. He won’t try anything, I promise. They’ll be on their best behavior.”

“Okay,” Bucky says after a moment.

“Wait, really?”

“You’re my wife. If my father-in-law is asking for dinner, then so be it.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you. It’s next Friday.” You take out your phone. “I’ll let him know you’re coming.”

You turn to leave but Bucky’s voice stops you. “One move.”

“What?”

“If he tries one move, my knife will be lodged in his throat.”

Your eyes widen but you hear the threat loud and clear. You nod and scurry off before he can make any more conditions. Your father is part of one of the biggest crime families New York has ever seen. He has power in every single corner of his jurisdiction. No one can do anything without him knowing about it. Bucky’s family is the other family that has ties to mafia dealings, making them just as powerful as your family.

Both families split New York in half, but they’re constantly fighting over drugs, property, clubs, money, etc. If it can be used to manipulate and exert power over people, both your families are greedy for the taking, especially if those businesses live on the border of both jurisdictions.

One day, your father met with Bucky’s father about a truce, something they both will want to agree to. This was when your mother was pregnant with you, but he loves to tell the story so you feel like you were practically there. If you were to marry Bucky, then both families would be able to come to agreement on those petty fights.

A truce would be made. The cost? Your freedom. Any children that you may will bear will be part of the biggest crime family this country has ever seen.

When you were old enough, you met Bucky through a family dinner. He came off as stoic, cold, and calculating. He didn’t let anything get under his skin. Then, his nieces and nephews joined the party and he became a different person. His hard resolve started melting, giving you a show of who the real Bucky was. It’s different when he’s in front of business partners and your family, but you have a good idea of who the real Bucky is.

He’s a mystery, something you’re desperate to solve.

To prepare for the dinner, you decide to go to the gym and hopefully shed a few pounds. You’ve always loved doing cardio, so the treadmill became your best friend. You go so often that the front desk lady knows you by name.

“Welcome, Y/N. Have a good workout.”

“Thank you, Betty. I will.”

You walk over to the treadmill and start with a walk to get your blood pumping. You put your headphones in and listen to your favorite podcast. You listen to all sorts of things when you work out but lately, it’s been about the podcasts. You’re an hour into your workout when someone touches your shoulder. You take out your headphones and look back to see someone you never thought you’d see again.

“Vince. What are you doing here?”

“It’s a gym. I’m working out.”

You look him over and notice he’s not sweaty or red. If he’s been here as long as you have, he hasn’t been working out.

“Right. I’ll let you get back to it.”

You’re about to put your headphones back in when he steps onto the treadmill next to yours. He leans over and rests his elbows on your handlebars, and you immediately stop your machine. It’s a good time to call it a day.

“I came over here to say hi.”

“I should get going.”

You step off the treadmill and walk over to the cleaning station to grab some paper towels when you feel him standing behind you. You used to feel so safe with him but that all changed when your father discovered a hole in your wall that came from his room which was right next door. He was your bodyguard, supposed to protect you from creeps, and ended up being one. He was truly a pervert.

The only reason why your father didn’t kill him was because you didn’t want to deal with it. You convinced him to just fire him, so he did. Now he’s back but you’re not sure why. Your father made it very clear that if he tried to come near you again, he would do more than fire him. You turn and find him standing closer than he should be.

“What do you want, Vince?”

“Just to talk. I’ve become better. I’ve worked on myself. I’m ready to go back to work.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to be your bodyguard again.”

“Like hell, that’s going to happen. You shouldn’t even be here. This isn’t even your gym. Just go home.” You step around him to clean your machine but he grabs your upper hard harder than normal. “Ow, you’re hurting me.”

“Oh, sweetie, you have no idea what pain is. I’ll do more than hurt you if you don’t give me my job back. I’m a good bodyguard. I kept all the creeps away from you.”

“Yeah, except for you. Let me go.”

He does but he doesn’t move away from you. You have sensitive skin so you know you’ll have bruises on your arm from his grip.

“Don’t be so shocked if one day you find me inside your house. I know you don’t have a bodyguard now.”

You don’t need one. You have Bucky. He’s very possessive and protective over you. You’re not sure what he’s going to do when he finds out about this, but you can imagine it’s not going to be kind. Crew cleaning your machine. You drop your supplies and rush out of the gym in a panic. During the ride home, you think of ways to lie to Bucky. He’s going to take one look at your face and know something is wrong.

You’re a terrible liar, but you can’t think of anything because you’re too scared. Scared to the point of tears. Maybe if you sneak inside and run to your room, you’ll be able to calm yourself down enough to come up with a convincing lie.

You park in the garage and rush inside knowing Bucky has cameras and sensors for when someone enters the garage. You’re about to book it up the stairs when you run smack into Bucky’s chest.

“Where’s the fire?” He sees the panicked look in your eyes and immediately becomes on alert. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just an intense workout. I’m going to take a shower.”

You go to leave but Bucky grabs your arm in the same place as Vince did. You wince and he lets you go immediately thinking he hurt you. His eyes narrow on the bruises Vince let, and the fire in his eyes tells you he’s not going to believe anything but the truth.

“What. Happened.”

You have no choice but to tell him the truth before you get in trouble for lying.

“Before you, I had a bodyguard. He was caught spying on me through a hole he created in my bedroom. He was fired and my father made it clear never to bother me again. Well, he was at the gym. He… threatened me… saying I shouldn’t be surprised if I find him in this house because I don’t have a bodyguard now. He… wants his job back.”

“Okay.”

Bucky moves around you to go to the garage but you jump in front of him and put your hands on his chest. He looks calm but you know he is fucking pissed. It’s taking all of your strength to keep him from entering the garage.

“Bucky, stop.”

“If you think I won’t pick you up and move you out of the way, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Bucky, please. I will bring this up to my father tomorrow at dinner. Please let my family handle this. He worked for my dad. He should deal with it.”

Bucky looks down and he sees the desperation in your eyes. It doesn't do shit to calm him down but he backs away knowing this is what you want.

“Fine.”

Bucky retreats to his office for the rest of the day. Before you know it, Friday has come and you’re walking up the steps to your father’s mansion. You’ve been dreading this moment since the gym but you know you have to tell your father about this. Bucky was supposed to ride with you but you hadn’t seen him all day.

“Oh, sweetheart! I’m glad you’re here!” your mother says when you walk into the house.

“Hi, mom.” She pulls you in for a crushing hug. “You just saw me last week.”

“I know, but it feels like a lifetime. Where is Bucky?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure he’ll be here. He said he would.” Your father walks in and you smile when you see him. “Daddy!”

“Princess,” he smiles.

You bounce over to him and hug him tightly. He’s a very tall and muscular man but he has always been gentle with you. You’re his princess. You’re his only daughter, so he takes your health and well-being very seriously. You have six brothers but he’s not the same with them as he’s with you. They’re just as scary as your father. You’re not sure why you ever needed a bodyguard when you had six living at home with you.

You join your family in the dining room and greet your brothers. The family butler brings out the food until there is a plate in front of everyone. You look beside you at the empty chair and wonder where Bucky is. He’s supposed to be here. He said he would. If he had to work, he would have told you.

“So, Y/N, when am I getting grandbabies?”

“Mom!”

“I’m not getting any younger over here.”

“You have grandbabies. Tony and Luke both have children. Gio has one on the way.”

“None from you, though.”

“Okay, well, when I get pregnant, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Where is Bucky?” Stefan asks, shoveling food into his mouth as he speaks.

“Stefan!” your mother scolds. “Don’t eat like an animal.”

“Sorry, mom,” he says with his mouth full.

“I don’t know. He said he’d be here. He’s probably caught up with work.”

Once your brothers are finished with their meals, they eagerly go for seconds. The dining room is filled with chatter about people’s plans, kids, and trips they have coming up. You never talk about work while you’re eating. That’s reserved for after dinner and always over a glass of top-shelf whiskey.

Suddenly, all chatter ceases when someone walks into the dining room. Bucky. Only he’s covered in blood. Blood stains his nice suit and spatters his smooth skin, but he acts as if he has nothing on him. His hands are clean though. He sits next to you and accepts the food the butler brings. He takes a bite of the meat and moans at how good it is.

“Is it taken care of?” your father asks.

“Yes, sir.”

Chatter returns as normal as if Bucky isn’t covered in fucking blood. Even your brothers don’t seem to care that blood is now on the table. Your mother doesn’t care that blood is getting on her nice white dining chair. You lean closer to him and grab your napkin. You grab his chin and start wiping the blood from his cheek.

“What the hell is the matter with you? Where were you? Why are you covered in blood? Whose is it?”

“Vince.”

Now everything makes sense. He must have called your father to tell him what you told him who then told your mother who then told your brothers.

“I told you I’d handle it.”

“He touched what’s mine.”

“Excuse me?”

“He touched my wife.”

You throw the napkin down knowing it’s useless. “Last I checked, Bucky, you don’t own me.”

“No, you but own me.” Your eyes widen in surprise. “I’d do it again and again to protect you.” He grabs your chin with his clean hand and kisses you. He pulls away from you and wipes away the drop of blood he got on your skin. “Eat.”

It takes you several seconds to wrap your brain around what just fucking happened. You grab your fork and take a bite slowly. Maybe there is some warmth to that cold heart.

x

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[thedeadtalker]

-my grandfather was 8 when he and his family were rounded up on the Oregon coast, kept in a livestock pen for 3 very rainy days, then put into a cattle car to be carried out to the reservations in the east.

-my grandmother had two brothers and sister who were sent to mission school and never returned. They said they ran away. They lied.

-My mom remembers when Indians got enough citizenship to vote in Oregon. She describes her parents and their friends discussing if the should do it -vote -or if it was trick to register them.

-My friend took his grandmother out for her 100th birthday. He asked her what she thought were the most important things to happen during her lifetime. She told him: free wifi and the legal end of segregation.

-I remember those fucking nuns in mission school. I only went 1 year when the laws changed and we could go to other schools. We could live with our parents and ride a bus to school and back again and sleep that night in our own home. I remember that, you fuckers.

-I remember that my mom and two of her sisters gave birth in a hospital connected to the mission, and they didnt know for years that they'd gotten botched steralizations against their wishes and without their knowledge. I remember my parents desperatly trying to have more children. Theyd always wanted a bunch of kids. The house my dad built had many empty guestrooms. Eventually they sold it. I remember my mom having to have a hysterectomy 2 years ago because of all the health problems caused by the fucked up surgery. I remember sitting in a meeting and one of the nurses there having to put me through a fainting protocol because i got a text from my stepfather that during the hysterectomy they discovered one of mom's damned ovaries was just fucking gone. I wonder sometimes if some sick fuck retired doctor kept a genuine Indian ovary in a jar in his office. I wonder if his nazi kids and grandkids pull it out to show to guests as a conversation point. I think about how whites were paid piecework for Indian scalps amd seeing one dried out and leathery in an antique store in a small town in Idaho. There is evil in the Americas. The nazis were here long before they were ever in Europe.

- I remember my highschool history teacher showing us the number tattooed on his wrist. I remember him showing us all these recordings of ordinary German citizens talking about how they didn't see anything wrong happening. How there must have been some sort of perfecrly mundane reason for the endless smoke pouring from the ovens in the camp up in the hill. How it was all just politics. How they were reassured that all the people who were taken had just moved in the night, or were much happier wherever they'd gone to. "But you saw them all: the Jews, the other prisoners going into the camp. But you never saw them leave. Didn't you think that was odd?" "We just figured they'd moved from the camp in the night while we were sleeping." "Where?" "What do you mean?" "Where did you all think they went -in the middle of the night?" "Oh. We didn't know." "Didn't you wonder?" "Why would we?"

- I remember that same teacher explaining how the nazis had gotten a lot of their ideas from the US government's Native American policy. The death camps were modelled after our reservations. The dehumanizing and the stories of savages/gremlins that ate white babies and were less than human were based on the clever marketing campaign set up to not just enable the settler take over, but used to unite the fragmented people of newly forming colonial nation. He fucking showed us. There is publically available documentation of all of this.

-I remember getting put on the no fly list. I remember finding out about it because when we tried to buy tickets for the whole family to travel down to New Mexico for my granduncle's funeral the whole purchase was bounced. We were told why that might be the case so we tried seperate purchases for everyone. Me. It was me. Several years later my roommate's family friend -an old white guy with some pull, found out why. I was teaching K-3 and moonlighting as a computer programmer back then. And I'd printed some photos of holidays around the world to share with my students on the same computer I wrote code from. My own computer, in my own office, in my own home. He said it also didn't help that I wasn't white.

-I remember that fucker's first time in office: I remember seeing my coworker snatched from the elevator by ice agents and shoved into an unmarked van. He was a 3rd generation American.

-I remember having to warn the non-white, non-abled, non anything a nazi would want to gas you for residents of the dvsat shelter we worked with to not go out at night, not go out alone, not walk on these specific streets or go into these specific shops. I remember the time a native Hawaiian chick on my caseload didn't come back when expected and everyone was out of their mind with worry. She came back, tear-streaked and shaking, and told us about how she'd gotten lost (not in Hawaii any more, Dorothy) and ended up in one of the neighborhoods she was supposed to avoid, and being chased by some of the proud boys that patrolled our city streets in their ridiculous be-flagged pickups, and how some nearby restuarant diners had rushed her into the restuarant, and the staff there had hid her in the pantry, and all the diners lied and said they hadn't seen her. My teacher read Anne Frank to us in 6th grade. Do they still read that in schools?

-I think about that time I went into a DMV and the woman behind the counter told me to "sit over there," next to two men, and well away from the other patrons. Then a highway patrol officer came over and told us to go with him. In the parking lot he explained that he'd been called to take us to an immigration detention center. But instead he directed us to a "safe" DMV 40 miles away and walked away muttering about having had it up to here with those idiots in there. The two American Samoan men started laughing. Honestly, I didn't feel like laughing. I didn't feel like anything. I was thinking about the mission school and wondering if the detention center looked like it had.

-I've spent the last couple of weeks handing out flyers in different languages. I don't use an interpreter. I have no way of knowing if I can trust them. But somehow I manage to convey to the people I visit in field hand huts and steamy laundries that they are in a sanctuary state and what that means. That no one in our offices will turn them away or turn them in. At least I hope Im conveying that. Then I tell them, using paper language dictionaries if needed (librarians are superheros) how to get away, who to talk to, how to find the big dipper. I think a lot of my high school history teacher and those faded numbers on his wrist.

Oh I know they're coming for me first. Im your canary.

[leviathansmistress]

Begging Heart

Jurassic Park AU: Divorced Wife!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Tags/warnings: angst, fluff, divorce, rawr

Part 1 | Part 2

A back story about how it all ended.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

" 'S okay," your daughter mumbled, playing another dinosaur figurine Natasha bought for her. "It's mommy you need to be talking to though, mom."

"I know dino." She then placed a kiss on Shane's temple as she trailed behind you, pushing the stroller of your youngest.

Shane was 6 when you and Natasha divorced and your youngest, Ashana was just months old. As funny as it sounds she always has been choosing dinosaurs over you, the last straw was when you gave birth to Ashana, she wasn't there because the hybrid dinosaur they experimented was also laying eggs, giving birth to some shelled dinosaurs. When she went back home, she didn't see any sign of you and your first born, all your clothes and personal stuff was gone.

She filed for a leave for 1 year straight, no questions, to find you and fix what she broke. But upon knowing you were in your parents house, days after you disappeared from your shared home that's when she knew you gave birth. She cried to your parents, kneeling in front of them, apologizing over and over. Begging to see you and her children but she was only able to see Shane. You told your mother that you won't let her see Ashana until she turns 1 month old.

Natasha went back to her lab, lashing out. "This is your fucking fault!" She cried, hands banging on the eggs of the hybrid dinosaur she had to watch over instead of your family. All of a sudden, one egg cracked a baby dinosaur peeking out of the shell. Without waiting, she opened the incubator and gently took the baby dinosaur, bringing it to its mother. Natasha sniffed, watching as the mother caressed her baby. The image of you and the kids flashed before her eyes—she has to fix her family.

Natasha has been nothing but respectful and patient. She doesn't know when she will see you or your newborn but she is grateful already that your parents still allowed her to see Shane and be accepted in your home. She would always visit, driving 2 hours back and forth, hoping that it was you opening the door for her. She could only spend time with Shane and she would always ask her about you.

"How is mommy doing?"

"Mommy not eating and she is crying always, always sad. When will we comeback home, mom?"

"Soon, baby. Okay? Soon."

When Natasha knew about it she made sure to bring you your favorite take outs whenever she visits, which is everyday. It varies, she would ask Shane what you're craving for and Shane would tell her.

"Ice-cream sandwich!" Shane shouted.

"Are you sure it's what mommy wants? Or it's what you want?" Natasha asked her daughter teasingly, her daughter could only cover her face in embarrassment.

Natasha never failed to ask what your youngest daughter would need but your mom would reassure her that everything is covered by them, so she would just bring her little dinosaur toys. She makes sure to bring food for the entire family as well. She would also leave a letter on your food before your daughter or your mom takes the food to bring it to you.

"Hi detka, I miss you. I love you."

"How's mama dino and baby dino doing?"

"I will take sister dino out, is there anything you want mama dino?"

"I miss you, detka. Please, I want to see you and our baby."

"Hi baby, I had a rough day )): I miss you, rawr."

"Baby this is a toy set dinosaur family I had ask to be customized. It's you, Shane, Ashana and me <3 rawr."

The day came, Ashana is finally 1 month old. Your father was just slowly coming downstairs but Natasha already saw the thick white cloth he was carrying—she started tearing up. When your father handed her Ashana, Natasha sobbed, cooing and mumbling sweet words to your youngest. She has Natasha's hair and nose, the eyes and her skin are yours.

"Wh-where's Y/N?" Natasha asked your father, wiping the tears out of her face.

"I'm afraid you will not see her for a while now." Natasha frowned, it has been a month since she saw you. And it was in your home when she left you alone in your bed during your sleep since there was an emergency in the lab. But what she didn't know is that you would go to labor and give birth to Ashana on that very same day.

"No. It's…it's been a month, sir. I need to see her, we need to get back home. I need her." Your mother took Ashana from her arms and then your father handed her a piece of manila envelope.

"No, no, no. I will not sign this, sir." Natasha tried not to choke and compose herself. She stood leveling your father. "Please, let me see her." She started getting hysterical, wanting to go upstairs and see you but your father quickly blocked her way. "Y/N! Baby! Please talk to me!" Your father took a hold of Natasha's strength. She has no shame crying in your father's grasp, she wasn't able to control herself and pushed your father out of her way but he quickly grabbed her by her arm.

"She needed you too, Natasha. But where were you? Sign the papers and you will see her. If not, you will not see them ever again." Your father firmly threatened Natasha. A tear fell down her cheek, nodding defeatedly—she will not risk not seeing you and the kids. She will give this one to you now if that's what you want, but she will win you back.

[magpiepills]

Take It Easy

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x virgin f! Reader

Word count: 4k

Summary: you’re a virgin with a crush on your best friends dad and you’re determined to make him your first.

Warnings: SMUT! PWP, PIV, fingering, tiddy stuff, oral (f receiving) virginity loss, alcohol, dubious consent on a little of this, age gap, tiny bit of daddy, creampie, Joel is kind of a creep, fetishization of youth, big dick Joel. Dirty talk, sweat pants, Sarah lives, idk what else. Typos galore, not edited, hardly beta’d at all, straight up pornorgraphy. Don’t read smut for the morals.

A word from the author: well, here we go. Big dick Joel getting real nasty with his daughter’s virgin friend.

MASTERLIST

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At 9 AM a bead of sweat trickled down Joel’s temple. It was a cold day, highs only reaching into the 40s. Rain was expected and he had called Tommy to take over the job site for the day, blaming a terrible migraine triggered by the weather, probably.

With no one else home and no place to be, Joel could devote himself to the task that had been hanging over him for two weeks.

You had the day off too. Classes didn’t start up again until after the new year, despite everyone heading back to campus with their clean laundry and gifts from their parents and grandparents. Sarah included. You and your best friend since 11th grade had arrived home on the same day and spent days together at your parent’s house making cookies and wrapping gifts and watching movies and drinking too-sweet amaretto sours in her and her father’s kitchen. Now she’s gone and you’re left behind, one more thing to finish up before you could get back to college life.

Joel was focused and diligent, careful and patient, but determined. His tongue slid across his bottom lip. “Just relax,” he reminded you. How could you, at a time like this?

You hadn’t been relaxed since the first night back at Sarah’s dad’s house, since you first saw the width of his shoulders, the size of his biceps, or his big dark eyes. There was no relaxing when you saw him size you up as he grabbed himself a beer from the fridge, when he spoke to you and Sarah, but only looked at you when he said to be good. All you wanted was to be good for him.

You campaigned hard. Arching your back, ass out, bright pink fabric of your thong showing above the waistband of your sweatpants while you leaned over the counter eating pizza and flipping through Sarah’s stack of magazines in the Miller family’s cozy kitchen.

“Save me any?” Joel asked, sidling up behind you, reaching for the greasy pizza box and letting his hand drag over your exposed skin, the side of his pinky finger just barely reaching under the waistband of your panties. Your cheeks heated as he smiled at you, chomping his pizza and, unbeknownst to you, semi hard in his jeans.

Of course Joel didn’t mind Sarah bringing friends home, especially little things like you, with bodies like yours that played havoc on his self control. Ones that were eager to flirt with an older man, ones who didn’t know what they were asking for.

You thought you knew. Sure Sarah was your friend, but you were still human and her dad was hot. You might not be experienced, but you had a whole treasure trove of dirty stories you read between classes and studying about how an older man could treat a younger woman. Those stories occupied your mind. You masturbated, imagining a handsome man who took charge of you like the imaginary ones, you whispered “daddy” as you came, just like the women in the stories, thrilled with the naughtiness of it all.

Now, here you are with this handsome older man, already going gray, and you wondered if he would like it if you called him daddy. You imagined how the word would sound if he said it.

You’d harbored a little crush on Joel since you first saw him at Sarah’s high school graduation party. You’d watched him from across the yard all night, wanting him to see you, but not wanting him to all at once. You never imagined he might look at you with the same carnivorous hunger in his eyes.

Of course he’d seen you, how could he not? You’d shown up looking way too beautiful for your own good then made eyes at him all night. He’d spent the entire party avoiding you so he wouldn’t be tempted to drag you up to his bedroom and wipe that fucking temptress look off your face. He knew he couldn’t.

When Sarah called to tell you about the date she had planned with some guy, you encouraged her. Told her to see a movie, dinner, anything. You helped her pick an outfit and did her eyeliner for her. When her date picked her up at seven, you were on her doorstep at seven thirty, playing dumb and looking for the jacket you’d left behind. Of course he invited you in to get it, and offered you a drink.

“You’re twenty one now, ain’t ya?” He winked at you as he poured two shots of whiskey and slid one over to you.

“Close enough,” you mumbled, low so he didn’t hear.

He watched as you swallowed the burning liquid, fixated on the way your throat moved as you obediently swallowed what he gave you. You grimaced, shaking your head and sputtering at the taste. Joel grinned and poured another and put it in front of you. “Second one goes down easier.” He was right. It went down easy, and it made you feel warm and relaxed.

You leaned close to talk, tilting your head, your eyelids heavy. “I didn’t really need my jacket,” you confessed. “Kinda just wanted to see you again.”

Joel held his liquor much better than you, but he played along, feigning ignorance. “Yeah? What do you want with an old man like me?

Of course, after that it wasn’t safe to let you leave, so you sat with Joel on his couch, a movie playing in the background. Joel pulled your bare feet onto his lap and spread a blanket over you both. Your eyelids were heavy, and you couldn’t help but stare at his profile, the curve of his nose, the fullness of his lips.

He turned to look at you, and smiled. “You gonna keep statin’ at me all night?” You licked your lips and nodded. “You can do more than look if you want to, pretty girl.”

Joel’s arm reached across the back of the couch, making the room feel smaller, the air warmer, and what happened next inevitable. He leaned over, taking more of your space, and tilted your chin up. The kiss started tender and soft, something sweet, not innocent but with no hint of how reckless he would be with you. He was so big and strong, and you felt so vulnerable and small with his arms around you, his hands roaming over your body and his tongue slipped into your mouth.

He took your hand in his and guided it to his lap, letting you feel the size of his hard cock, straining beneath the fabric. “Look what you did,” he panted, breaking away from your lips. “That’s all you. You keep comin’ over here teasing me and then I gotta go take care of it on my own.”

You gasped at the size of him, feeling the length, the thickness through his worn denim. You’d only seen pictures, and having a cock in your hands was thrilling and new. You went to unbutton his jeans, eager to take it out and see it for real when he stopped you. “Uh-uh. You ain’t ready for that yet.”

He knew you were a virgin. He’d heard you telling Sarah how frustrated you were, poor thing. The thought of being the first to have you had given him two weeks of fantasy material to jerk off with. He thought of you on your knees, mouth open obediently. He thought of you bent over the back on his couch, bare pussy showing under the hem of a short skirt. He thought of the way your cry his name when he filled you all the way up and came in your tight little snatch. He was ate up with his dirty ideas.

Sarah’s dad lifted your shirt instead, pulling it up over your tits and kissing the tops of each breast, silently reminding himself to not rush. You made soft sounds of pleasure as he worked slowly, kissing, licking, nibbling gently, pulling the cups of your bra down so he could circle your nipples with the wet point of his tongue, flicking them, sucking them, making you whimper. You’d never felt a mouth there before, and your panties were soaked already. Joel seemed to know they would be.

“You makin’ a mess for me? Let me have a look.”

“Mister Miller,” you warned him, giggling and nervous as he unbuttoned your jeans and tugged down your zipper. You held your breath as his hand slipped down the front of your damp panties. He felt the soft strip of hair you’d left over your mound, the rest of you bare and inviting.

Joel chuckled when he discovered how wet you were. His fingers were immediately covered in your slippery wetness.“Goddamn, sweetheart. All this just ‘cause I played with your tits?”

His teasing embarrassed you, until he put your hand over his erection again. “Think you can take him?” You nodded, wide eyed and he thrust against your palm. Joel laughed again. Even for an experienced woman he knew he was a lot to take. He never got tired of the whines and hiccuped breaths as he drove his cock into them for the first time. He twitched at the thought of you, eager and new, dripping wet but tight as a vice around him.

You kissed him again, pulling him down on top of you, but his hand never left your pussy. He rubbed over your slick vulva, and delved between your folds to draw out more of your arousal, spreading it around, circling your clit, teasing you into a panting mess. You closed your eyes and gripped his tshirt in your fists as you came. It was even better than when you do it yourself.

“That good, baby? You like coming like that for me?” Joel watched your dazed, loopy smile drop in surprise when he brought his wet fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean and hummed at the flavor of you on his tongue.

He had his middle finger poised to slip into your pussy, beginning the task of opening you up just enough to let his cock do the rest when a pair of headlights swept across the room. Sarah was home.

Suddenly feeling much more sober, you and Joel scrambled to right yourselves and you grabbed the jacket you’d accidentally-on-purpose left behind to help explain why you were here, alone with her father. He grabbed a beer and turned on the tv, feigning interest in a show about crab fishing.

Sarah was confused by your presence, as you’d expected.

“What are you doing here? Is everything ok?” She was so sweet and concerned, and what you really wanted to do was ask her what she was doing here, wasn’t she supposed to be on a date? You waved it off, holding your jacket up as explanation.

Sarah shrugged. The two of you went to her room, closing the door behind you for a post-date recap while Joel was left alone on the couch, cock still hard.

Two days passed before you saw him again. When you came over to help Sarah pack up for the drive back to school he was there, in the same place on the couch where he had pushed you further than anyone else ever had.

As your best friend of the last almost two years tried to decide what she needed to take back with her and what she should leave in her room, you excused yourself to the bathroom. Joel saw you go in and waited behind his bedroom door for you to come back out. When you passed, his hand reached out and grabbed you, pulling you into his room and held you against his warm body, letting you feel the bulk of his erection in his sweatpants as he kissed you.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back,” he whispered low in your ear. “Me and you have some unfinished business.”

You instantly burnt with your need for him, nothing else was as important as feeling him, kissing him, touching him, finding out what else he might do to you.

Joel’s breath was warm and his mustache tickled your ear. “I want you here first thing in the mornin’ you understand? I’m not done with you,” he palmed your ass roughly, pulling you against him. He had a mind to just toss you onto his bed and sort you out right here and now. He was certainly hard enough, and he was sure if he checked you’d be dripping wet for him.

Down the hallway Sarah called for you, snapping you out of whatever was happening or could happen with just a little more time. You should feel guilty. You let your best friend’s dad finger you. You almost fucked him. He’s twice your age and she’s your best friend, but your traitorous pussy didn’t care. You wanted to find out what else he would do. You helped her finish packing, and went home to touch yourself under the covers in your own childhood bedroom.

You’d been nervous, barely sleeping all night, horny and excited and worried that you didn’t have any way to contact Joel to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind.

When you woke up you showered and put on the cutest panties you’d packed, a soft cotton bikini with a heart on the back that said “Lucky You” in bold letters. You hoped they wouldn’t be soaked by the time he got his hands on them. You misted yourself with vanilla body spray and practiced looking cool, which was the opposite of how you felt. You felt like a goofy, awkward teenager. You were acutely aware of your inexperience. You dressed in a snug pair of jeans that hugged your ass and a soft white sweater, and tamped down the guilt of driving to Sarah’s house with the intention of fucking her dad.

Sarah was already gone when you got back to her house the next morning. You arrived at eight thirty, just as Joel had instructed.

Any lingering nerves or doubt vaporized the instant he opened the door. It swung open, warmth and the smell of coffee rushing out. Joel was still in his sweatpants and a soft white tshirt, obviously slept in. He filled the doorway, looking you up and down, practically licking his chops like a hungry wolf. It was reassuring to see the way his pants were already beginning to tent. It made you feel bolder.

“Good morning, Mister Miller,” you batted your lashes at him, tilting your head flirtatiously.

“Get your ass in here,” he grumbled, checking the street for any boring eyes. Luckily most of his neighbors were at work. He shut the door and locked it before turning his attention back to you.

There was no formality or polite small talk before he was on you. His lips on your neck, sucking hard enough to mark. His hands pulling impatiently at your jeans, tracing his fingers down the back seam to cup your pussy.

“You smell good,” he said. “You get dressed up to come over here and fool around with an old man?”

“I came over for you.” You rubbed your nose against his shoulder, leaning into him, feeling his warmth and strong, sturdy body.

“I’m old enough to be your daddy.”

As if you needed the reminder.

“I don’t care, Mister Miller. I like it,” you said, emphasizing your point by grinding harder against the thick curve of his cock.

You reached for his waistband, eager to see and feel everything that was promised. You were ready to drop to your knees, but he stopped you again. “I told you you’re not ready for that.”

“Can you get me ready?” You asked so sweetly that Joel thought he thought he surely must be dreaming.

“Yeah baby. I’ll get ya ready. Come on.” Joel took you to his bedroom and sat you on his freshly washed sheets. He took off your sweater and tossed it onto a chair in the corner where his own laundry was already piled. He kissed you and unsnapped your bra. He took off his own shirt and threw it behind him. You covered your chest with your arms, but Joel pulled them away.

“Uh-uh. Don’t be shy now. You like teasing older men, walking around my house looking good enough to eat, looking at me like you do, I’m gonna take my time.”

Your body lit up when he climbed over you and pushed your tits together with his big, rough hands. He licked across your nipples, teasing them to firm points with his tongue, sucking each one, squeezing and kneading your breasts. When he had enough of that, when you began to roll your hips, he popped the button of your jeans with ease. He tugged them down your legs and held your thighs open wide. You knew you’d soaked your panties. The look on his face told you.

“Are you nervous?” he asked. You shook your head no. “Has this pussy ever been licked?” Another shake of your head. “No? Well I’m gonna fix that right now. Hold your knees up for me, baby.

You bit your lower lip and held the back of your knees. You could feel your pussy blooming with need. Joel hooked his fingers under your panties and pulled them off. He read the words aloud. “‘Lucky You,’ he laughed. “Yeah. Lucky me.”

On his tired knees, he licked your puffy cunt. He sucked and slurped and hummed happily as you panted. His tongue pushed into your entrance, a hint of what was to come. He flicked his tongue quickly over your asshole, then through your slick, sticky folds to suck your clit. You moaned and thrashed, you dug your heels into the edge of the mattress until he shoved your knees back up and looked at you pointedly from between your legs.

You could have come from this alone, his lips and his tongue, but he pushed one finger into you, then another. Even when you fingered yourself it wasn’t this intense. Your orgasm came quickly, radiating over your body, seizing your muscles.

Joel stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand and smiling proudly down at you.

“Did good, baby. Pussy’s so sweet I could eat it all day.”

You laughed. Feeling almost as buzzed as you did from the whiskey. “Will you?”

“Is that what you want?” Joel stroked his cock through his sweatpants, a wet spot had darkened the gray fabric near the tip, and he seemed even bigger than you remembered.

“No,” you sat up on the bed and looked up at him. When you tried this time, he let you reach into his pants. His cock was hot and firm, with smooth, soft skin, you pulled it from his sweatpants and stared. Your fingertips didn’t touch when you held his cock in your fist. You slid your hand up and down in a gentle, timid stroke, quickly gaining confidence and Joel watched you explore him with glassy, half lidded eyes and a bead of precum leaking from the thick, blush pink head. In a daring moment of impulse, you licked it up, savoring the forbidden taste of him on your tongue.

Joel had to stop himself from holding your hair and shoving his cock into your throat. Patience, he reminded himself. He had to give you time. He knew you’d be taking him in every hole soon enough. An eager girl like you. A bad girl. A cock hungry little slut in the making and you were his to mold.

“That’s good, baby. That’s real good, but if you keep that up I’m gonna come and we don’t want that, do we?” Joel stepped back and kicked off his sweatpants.

You were both naked now, fully bared to each other, his body graying now, with scars and years of wear and tear, yours, young and new and untouched by anyone but him.

He got into the bed beside you, pulling you up to kiss him, the smell and taste of your pussy clinging to his mustache. He deepened the kiss and rolled on top of you once more, the time positioning himself between your legs. You felt his cock, heavy and long against your folds. He slid against you, rocking your hips, and you mirrored his movements, coating his turgid member in your wetness.

His deep, husky voice was so sexy, low and rumbling against your lips. “You feel so good. Can you feel me? Feel how bad I need you?

“I feel you Joel,” your voice strained. “You’re so big.”

“You can take him, baby. You’re ready. You did so good for me. You want it? You want daddy’s cock? You gonna be a good girl and take it for me?”

“Yes. I want it. I want it, please,” you begged in a haze.

Joel dragged his cock head through your folds again, gathering your slick, and nudging against your tight, virgin hole.

“Relax for me baby. Let me in,” Joel urged impatiently and you tried, but he was so big. That word floated in your head. Big. Everything about him was just so big. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply until he managed t fit the first inch and a half inside.

“Come on, you’re doin’ so good. Focus right here.” He sucked his thumb into his mouth, wetting it with his saliva and pressing it against your clit. It helped a little, but you couldn’t ignore the stinging, overwhelming stretch of him in your impossibly tight little cunt.

It took several beats of your heart pounding in your ears to work him all the way in, inch after throbbing inch filling you completely. You didn’t dare move. You let Joel take control. He had to focus too. You weren’t the first virgin he’d ruined but he wasn’t as young as he used to be. He inched out, and pushed back in. Out, then in, keeping a steady pace as you got acclimated to his size.

You did, slowly relaxing, relishing in the warmth of his body, the pain washed away into pleasure. Each stroke of his length into you stoked your growing orgasm. It was nothing like you’d ever felt. You began to feel crazy over it. You slipped your hand between your bodies and rubbed your clit the way you did when you were alone.

“Fuck yeah. Make yourself come. Let me feel you,” Joel encouraged, his temples glistening with sweat. He needed to come. He wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to make this good and keep you coming back but you felt so damn good. He wanted to mark you with his cum like no one else ever could.

You whined, his words, his voice were what did you in. You came hard on his cock. It was a smooth, rolling, heavy feeling, instant addiction. The feeling was soon followed by Joel’s orgasm. He didn’t stop to ask where, he just pushed deep and released inside, cum held in place with his softening cock and the weight of his body collapsing on top of yours.

What now, you wondered. You’ve fucked him, what now?

He rolled off of you and kissed you, then for a few moments you lay side by side in silence. His cum dripped out, adding to the mess between your legs.

“You ok,” he asked. “I didn’t hurt you did I? I know it’s a lot. You’re not bleeding are ya?”

“I’m fine, Joel.” You wondered if you should leave now. You went to the bathroom and cleaned yourself up. You didn’t look any different in the mirror now that you weren’t a virgin. You didn’t look like someone who would have sex with their friend’s dad, either.

You went to find your clothes and purse so you could leave, but Joel was still in bed, holding his arm up for you to get back in with him. He had no intention of letting you leave soon.

“I thought I could make us some lunch before we try again.”

[currentfandomkick]

Is it bad i kind of want Jazz to drag everyone else attempting serious calls to the JL into a meeting and they straight up send a whole video with evidence only for it to end with her parents breaking in, a lot of ‘fucking Fenton adults’ commentary the cameras caught with her parents shooting and it Clearly Injuring Someone (i’m thinking second degree burns minimum) with Jazz snapping at her parents?

Maybe have Dash snag the camera and dropping it as ‘hi Phantom!’ Fanboy kicks in as Phantom is seen shushing a glowing green… tank sized angry dog, clearly trying to separate Floating Meta from the Fenton Parents.

Phantom is seen getting said pooch to chill out, shrink down and carried around like a purse dog while Phanton is shushing the pup with baby talk and asking why this many people are here.

Dash just says ‘oh, Jazz wanted to try and get you help for the ghosts and the hunters after you.’

Phantom, humming. ‘That would require them to use their brain. Yes it would, and if they call reports pranks, then they pranks! Yes they do!’

‘… does this have something to do with the scary clock guy screaming about ‘the Allen line is a blight to his existence and stories’ last week?’

‘Eh? One of us tries to respect privacy, and we all know clocky’s biggest rivals in voyuerism is the eyeball brigade.’

‘Tried to End you again?’

‘You’d think after the fifth failed assassination, they’d stop, ya know? hey, i gotta go before Red comes for Cujo—let me know how this pans out—are they threatening to make the town hop dimensions. Again?’

Dash turning the camera to the Fenton Parents being scolded by a pissed off Jasmine Fenton.

“And another thing! All future dimensions hops are to be cleared by the town or Phantom in an emergency!”

“Must i be a part of your mortal family drama?”

“Yes!” “No!” “Spook!”

“Yeah, i’m dipping. Tell Danny the upgrades worked like a charm on the thermos!”

“Wait a minute—give that to me! Technus right?”

“…yes and you are not giving him to Foley again. I don’t care about the bet and fifty years of service, that can be done after death and when this guy is not trying to take over the internet the wrong way. Go viral like the rest of us and then i’ll leave him to it.”

“No, if we send him in the thermos to the JLA maybe they can help!”

“No, they made their bed. If they want pranks, they will be gifted pranks. Maybe they’ll realize we aren’t lying. Or not—other than a few assholes things are mostly under casual chaos and frankly i dont want whatever the GIW got going on to spread, ya know?”

“Phantom i can and will tell Sam.”

“And? She’s liminal and not suicidal.”

“She is murder-y,” Dash muttered under his breath.

“About why you can understand animals?”

“Here’s the thermos, i am keeping my dog and please leash the town’s pet mad occulists.”

“Scientists!”

“You’re too colorful for science. Plus i have seen the wards on your home.”

“They never hurt to add!” jack yelled at Phantom flew off. “Now Jazzy-pants, give us the ghost!”

“Nope. This is for the JLA. He should arrive in a week, his name is Technus and he is a ghost that likes to try taking over the world in a looneytunes fashion mostly as he likes finding new ways to use technology. If you need to, trap him in a glitch and call Danny Fenton. Phantom likes to steal his phone.”

“He does what!”

“I told you to just get Phantom a second line. Its not his fault he’s an alternate Danny that died.”

“Phatom is WHAT!”

End of video.

JL member watching did flag it as possible worry.

Booster and Ted Kord see it and go ‘ph, that’s a Baby Danny Schordinger. He shows up at the Time Police’s place on occasion to yell at us and other agents. What do you mean he’s a prank? He mostly calls everyone out on an embodiment of Timelines’s behalf and delivers lectures for it. What do you mean—what do you mean prank calls?’

Like let these two be the ones to connect dots and poke the JLD with ‘so an embodiment of the timeline has this kid we call Danny Schrödinger. He may have called for help with his non-existent town. Which may have been dropped into out universe and timeline or be a pocket dimension city—unclear—but uh. Ghosts are involved. And the JL now has a ghost in a thermos on the space station. Help.’

The Justice League originally got a ton of emergency calls and emails from Amity Park: a town that doesn't currently exist on any sort of database, record set, and can't be traced at all. So the JL decides to ignore them.

This turns out to be a bad decision because now the calls and emails (including personal contact info) turned into a never ending, untraceable virus of a white haired teenagers parody of Rick Astleys Never Gonna Give You Up.

[4mrplumi]

ZERO : SCAVENGERY . (ms/next)

-> plot synopsis - you don't think you're as odd and horrifying as the news makes you out to be. but you have never much cared for the validation of others, and certainly not theirs.

-> batfamily x serial killer reader. playlist (wip) ask 2b added to taglist

-> tw; gn reader, guns, referenced assault, violence, toxic relationships, eventual fem love interest, bug taxidermy, unhealthy coping mechanisms, murder, sociopathic tendencies, full on master list.

-> a/n; horribly in love with the idea of a self-sufficient classy mean judge. reblogs and interactions appreciated!! a lot (●'◡'●)

in fact, you are grateful for their ignorance. you do not need their recognition, their thanks.

you won’t say you’re not petty, not childish, not absurd and not disgusting for what you’re doing, but you’ve heard it innumerable times before, and don’t mind it now. in a matter of days, the limits you’ve placed on yourself have become the bane of your existence.

bright, technicoloured posters with you favourite bands and characters hang on the walls, music playing merrily on a small portable speaker you’d bought with your self-earned pocket money. it all provided the perfect image of a regular teenager, to the extent that you weren’t really creating a civilian identity like your family, but living through it. normally.

it makes you giddy, and you know it shouldn’t, to be so unsuspecting. your grades are mediocre, but your teachers praise your work, you’re not popular enough to go be invited to every party, but enough to be friends with three quarters of the grade, not dedicated enough to a franchise to know it super well, but still enjoy it through multiple perspectives. normal, exceptional, and normal.

that’s what makes it all the more rewarding to do what you do. since being adopted at eleven, you’ve pieced together the caped identities of the monolith you call your family with lovely colour-coded pin boards and pictures. you know they escape into the night to fight not criminals, but fight crime, beating and getting beat in the process.

you think it’s tedious, but you never comment. there’s not much you remember prior to coming into the manor, except the raw experiences from fleeing cheerfully down unkempt, spray painted, molding stairway chambers with your friends away from an angry neighbour, laughing the whole way down. sharing fries for one among six to seven people, since money was hard to get by and harder to go around and listening to the one person who could afford school talk about it. pushing your friends on the swings and them tying your laces in return, since the swings were too far from the ground to push yourself, and scratchy velcro was for “sissies”.

you could say your childhood was rugged, but fairly kind for a gothamite. you weren’t given the life of a gilded richman’s son like tim, or the hard street crime life of jason. you weren’t raised by assassins or masters like damian and cassandra, not clever and determined like duke, not gifted with athleticism like dick. normal, incredibly. lucky, even.

you cannot think of anyone when you think of family. you considered your group of friends (acquaintances does your relationship better justice, but at ten, everyone was a friend if they didn’t wear a badge and a cap) family, but you knew that’s not what the word meant. they’d go back home to fighting parents, single mothers, thieving fathers, earning siblings or aging aunts and uncles. you would go home to a quiet one-room apartment and a poor quality mattress.

it’s not fair to say you weren’t cared for. the neighbourhood considered you their darling child, your friends’ parents sending you food, aunties reading you stories and elderly residents providing comfort when you wanted the rare support of an adult. but you had no family because by your accord, you would have to return home to them for someone to be family.

it’s the opposite now. you return home from school to bruce wayne and his entourage of misplaced children, but your interactions are stiff as stone. you go out to diners and have the most soulless conversations, stay in the house and refuse to partake in their exchanges.

because you are different. their morals are aligned to your guardian’s, of justice and strength and so on, so on. your morals are aligned with your survival, no one else's, selfish, scavenging. you cannot get along on a base value, because you don’t belong to their nest of canaries. you are, as a silly buzzfeed quiz at five in the morning said, a shrike.

yet still, you seeked the warmth of family. the resurgence of that feeling you once had in your old life. you could never return, having now experienced the fruits of luxury, having lived too far from “home” for far too long, with the added weight of a bruce wayne shaped shadow that followed you. the immense danger it would bring to yourself and those around you would be preposterous, unimaginable, but no more horrifying than the awkwardness you'd receive from you old not-family. scrutinising stares, untrusting glances, forced waves. no, no, it wouldn’t do. you don’t want to feel miserable. 

it’s enough that your presumed family already gives you those looks. sneers from damian, concerned glances from cassandra, brief unease from dick, ignorance from tim, you could go on and on and on. and you’re not stupid. you only have yourself to blame.

your vanity, as the buzzfeed quiz had said, in curling cursive font that sometimes turned to boxes on the ui, presented itself as a horrifying ignorance. unlike a peacock’s gushing beauty, your pretty-factor extended only as far into first impressions. when someone gets closer, enough to see the white of your eyes, they shrink away.

crude comments, satirical dismissal, and sharp judgement are things that have, in air quotes, made you unlikable. when watching a documentary about bug-taxidermy on one of the tvs, damian had walked in and commented on the generous “inhumanity” of it. instead of justifying the practice with explanations of how ethical it was, you’d scoffed and called him dramatic. he antagonised you, and you couldn't care less.

mean things left your mouth without hesitation, “who cares” and “you’re doing too much” at the simplest things. but you didn’t do it on purpose. growing up, kindness was reserved only for people in your circle, barterers of goods and generosity. you were polite to the old ladies who brought you food, nice to the new kid who looked at you for guidance, and offered support to people who’d offered that to you too.

you had no obligation to be kind to the wayne household. they had done nothing for you, other than pulling you out of a blood stained alley and providing you a home you didn’t ask for. you weren’t let in on their family bonds and not given the chance to create mutual trust with them, and were not keen on it after their whitewashed kidnapping either. 

perhaps you had the frayed edges of low-class living from gotham’s alleys, but you also had firmly set, stich, stern and strict guidelines about your behaviour. you would not make the first move, and you would not do more than fulfill debts. one favour for another, never more.

that’s what makes your secretive secret side job exhilarating. you have no need to do what you do, except for a sense of duty. the term itself, obligation, is unfamiliar, exciting. like many, but not the majority, the batman and his menagerie’s morals seem too high standing for the crevices of gotham’s underworld. only the red hood can relate, and even he is too far from the truth in your eyes.

death was a permanent solution to the wrongs of people. but you could not simply just wipe out a criminal from the street and call it a day. the only striking similarity between you and bruce wayne, was that the two of you didn’t fight criminals, but fought crime. you snuffed it out as it started hinting at the surface, not waiting for a track record or a ticket list on a license. nothing was forgiven, because you were not obliged to forgive.

you did not forgive, but did excuse. the theft of food, the death of someone too touchy, the fractured ribs of a parent too cruel, were excused. because like you, the suspect, the criminal, was also simply bartering. a favour for a favour, a wicked death for a wicked life. they would be let off from your radar, until someone else got to them. you were not obliged to save them. you are duty-bound only to rid. 

out of habit really, you resorted to violence. seeing a lady bothered by a fellow too close a few months back, you did what came naturally without the supervision of domineering adults and officers and shot him point blank. for a second, the woman stilled, painted in blood from the spray that arced to her, before screaming in horror and fleeing, without so much as a glance in your direction. 

you were unperturbed by the lack of thanks, with a hint of humour at the thought, since it meant you were not indebted to her and she was not to you. 

but it’s the realisation that comes shortly after, that a fine or a scolding would not similarly scare away the man, and he was now well taken care of. and you think of the other scummy people hiding gotham’s crowded basements, and think of their freedom. it makes you angry, it always has, truly it does. death was not an uncommon occurrence in gotham, the murders and abductions, cruelty and pain all as abundant as the trash, poverty and crime within the city. why was it only an offense when it came to the people who perpetuated it?

comfort does little to save victims. a bag of cash and a pat on the back will not rid them of their memories, sadness, or their losses. you are neither sympathetic nor can you relate, but you are angry. have been angry. on their behalf. the world is a rotten and sick place, and this city is especially so. and while batman is a poor janitor, the red hood one too late, and the monolith of your family too distant, you are decided. you’ll wash this place clean like a broken truck, knowing it’ll never work again, but look pretty as it remains.

and you, a good-for-nothing, always scorning, useless kid, are unsuspecting. you are grateful for their ignorance. you do not need their recognition or their thanks.

-> a/n i think this is a solid part one for a prologue bit. the crow choir series is getting a bit neglected because i want to think over its intricacies a bit better. in contrast, this is a very kick and throw kind of plot line, more fun to write for.

i've been super nervous to post on tumblr but am enjoying it. hopefully will upload the next bits soon, interactions so very very appreciated! esp ideas in comments or asks, because it makes me feel like i'm not wiling away the time i should use for other things (T_T) overall just feels nice too.

thank you for reading!!

[rosegolden13]

Hiii your hc of the TF141 is so so so cute hahahaha can you imagine how TF141 handles the reader's father when they are being introduced?

HIII!! Tysm for the ask!! 💗💗💗 I love this idea! i bet someone out there has done this better than me but here’s my take on it!

Simon is nervous. Can you blame him? The whole concept of a decent father is new to him. He won’t tell you he’s nervous but it’s obvious in how stiff he is on the way to your parent’s house. Your father is likely a bit unnerved by the thought of his daughter dating this beast of a man who wears a mask almost all the time. You and your father will probably have to do most of the talking at first. But once he warms up a bit, he’ll probably crack one or two of his classic dad jokes and that’ll be the start of their bonding lmao. Painful for you likely. Practice your fake laugh now.

Gaz is a charmer, always good with people, so you don’t need to worry for a second. Parents love him, always have. Even in elementary school, all the pta moms were pinching his cheeks. He will bring flowers because he’s a gentleman like that. Your mom think he’s a doll and your dad, though he gives him a hard time about being in the military and not being there for you enough, does come around. Tbh, you might get jealous because your parents seem to love him more than they love you… “Maybe you can get our girl to the gym more, eh?” “Oh, absolutely, sir. I’ll get her on my training schedule.” And then you jab him with your elbow.

Soap is also a bit nervous but he gets chatty when nervous so you won’t ever need to fill an awkward silence. Just hope he doesn’t bring up that particularly bloody work story- oop, nevermind, there he goes. Your dad absolutely makes a passive aggressive comment about his mohawk (“what are you? In an 80’s rock band?”) that you’ll have to diffuse somehow. Later, in the car, Johnny’ll ask you, “you like ma hair, right, pet?” Clearly, he wants to leave a good impression. And he does eventually! It might take a few visits but he’s a family oriented guy and your dad comes around. He’s great with aunts, cousins, uncles, siblings, your mom, but he’ll always be a bit tense around your dad.

Price… Your dad is instantly not a fan of simply because of the age gap. It feels like an interrogation with how tense that first meeting is. Your dad asks about a million questions, about his job, his age, his intentions. But Price has handled much worse and he maintains his composure the whole time, not at all shaken. Honestly, he understands why your father doesn’t trust him so he can handle a little awkward grilling. His hand rests on your knee the whole time because he can feel your nerves, a silent reminder that he won’t leave you even if this goes poorly. Once they start talking about football… you’re in the clear. He slowly but surely gains your dad’s trust, especially because they root for the same team (and that’s somehow a show of character?? Men are bizarre).

Hope you liked this!! 🫶

[sukinapan]

hi!! i really really love your art and specifically rental! i'm a mac user so unfortunately i won't be able to play it but for this reason i was wondering if youre able to share more screencaps & excerpts from the story/game for those of us who won't be able to see it?

umi arrives at the vacation house with her family. you can hear seagulls and the ocean in the distance, though umi herself can't...

the door to the house is already open? mom says the rental man must be inside with the keys, why not go check for him.

trapped inside, there's nothing left but to look for the dental man

forget about your parents! you'll never see them again anyway! unless... unless?

unless you find the artifacts hidden within the house, for the ritual only a young girl can do:

a new door appears....

leading to the mirror labyrinth where you can find the last ones

finally, time for the ritual

something seems to be coming to get you but before you know it you wake up outside again, before everything happened.

was all that real? it's not clear, but if you grabbed the rosary necklace that was lying in the house before, it'll still be on you when you wake up:

playing again will result in a slightly different ending as you seem to have gone back in time even further

that's it for the story of rental. sorry that you're not able to play, hope you enjoy this~

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[burst-of-iridescent]

tlok inadvertently showing you that these characters are flawed is not the same as the show actually intending to do so. take aang for instance — though it’s clear that he favoured tenzin over bumi and kya, the resolution of these years of resentment and neglect doesn’t fall to aang, but to his children. the same episode that introduces this conflict ends with the three children reminiscing over a family photo and agreeing that they were a happy family after all. the implication is that it’s bumi and kya who had to get over it, not aang who was wrong for treating them that way — and tenzin affirms this later on when bumi says he never felt like he was part of the family till he was an airbender & his own brother tells him “you are now”.

i cannot give the writers and the story credit for something they did not do. when did aang have to own up to being a bad parent? when did tenzin or katara — the other members of the family — recognize the emotional harm inflicted on bumi and kya as a result of what their father led them to believe? without any other characters acknowledging aang’s flaws as a parent, and the characters who take the brunt of it seemingly overcoming it all on their own, the narrative seems to imply that aang was never at fault after all & that cannot be accepted as any sort of meaningful character building or exploration.

you know what, i still find it beyond weird that atla — the poster show for championing cross-cultural harmony and finding similarities in differences — chose to have katara and aang’s cultures remain not only diametrically opposed but separate throughout the entirety of its three seasons.

you’d think for a story all about understanding and respecting different backgrounds that its main romantic relationship would exemplify that, right? why don’t katara and aang ever bond over similarities in their cultures? why is their huge shared trauma of being genocide survivors forced to carry the legacy of their lost people just brushed under the rug and never talked about, even between the characters themselves? why go out of your way to establish that everything from their food to their sense of community to their moral values are so disparate? why was there never a moment where they found consensus on any of these things, or learned to love each other’s heritage despite those differences?

or if i’m getting to the actual point, why did we never have aang learning to appreciate katara’s culture?

i get that it was supposed to be humorous but it isn’t funny that the only times aang refers to katara’s cultural…anything is either as a joke or with disrespect. he jokes about her food being disgusting twice — once to toph (when she’s trying food made by a genocide survivor who is singlehandedly keeping her people’s culture alive in the land that tried to wipe it out, no less) shows no consideration for the fact that her morals don’t, and have no need to, adhere to those of the air nomads, and honestly is just downright insensitive to bato, sokka and katara in the entirety of bato of the water tribe.

i’m not saying you have to love everything about your partner’s culture, but aang doesn’t seem to love, learn from, or find value in anything. and it would be one thing for him to all but ignore his future wife’s heritage, but another entirely for him to treat it with such condescending superiority — especially when katara has never done the same. why would you make any of these writing choices when they so flagrantly contradict the themes of your story?

in the meantime, the country they do choose to show has cultural similarities with the water tribes in terms of both diet and community is — go figure — the fucking fire nation. oh yeah, there’s definitely nothing to read into there. no implications at all :)

be fucking fr, man.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

fág slán leis an dúshlán a bhí againn an mhí seo mar go dtí seo, i'm on the upside of the sea-saw 🎵

say goodbye to the challenges we have had this month, because so far i’m on the upside of the sea-saw

[obeymeluv]

We Had a Baby! (For a Grade?) - PT 1 -Malleus

Putting a divide up and a notice that Malleus' part WILL reference what he looked like in his younger fae form. For those that have made it through book seven, you know. For those that haven't made it to book seven, well...maybe skip this part.

Also...I thought these would be on the shorter side and I'd fit in multiple people but I guess Malleus is special. I'll try to be shorter with the other parts to get more people in.

Finding "Mal" names were hard, man.

Note: in this piece, book seven hasn't happened so this is the first time that Silver and Sebek are seeing fae eggs.

I'm trying out a hybrid style for this because it would be waaaay too long if I just typed it all in story form. Some story, some bullet points.

Not proofread. Need to give my eyes a break. Will review it later.

Malleus

The idea seemed positively strange to the Dragon Prince--people of your world treating sustenance as children? That didn't seem very productive of society at all! How were you to thrive as a species? What would a bag of flour do for you when you fell ill in old age? How could a potato assist you if you could not eat it?

Professor Crewel was also intrigued with the idea, so much so that he made it into an assignment. The puzzling introduction of your society's fondness for turning food into family quickly became a monologue on culturing fortitude, overcoming challenges, and assuring the class that this assignment met the 'general life skills' criteria expected of NRC and their excellent mages.

Crewel wouldn't admit it for anything less than a foolproof spell that could make Crowley competent, but he, Trein, and Vargas had bets on what the children would look like. They also had their preferred parents, of course. Given that he was the instructor of the class, he could pick as he pleased.

And he would. And he did.

He was very intrigued with the idea of fae offspring, as he had encountered (and rescued) only smaller species over the course of his potion-making career. Malleus was of impressive size and rare lineage so what would a baby version of him look like?

Like the rest of the class, Crewel was silent and stunned when the two of you stepped out of the summoning circle to see five shiny, pebbly eggs. The eggs were quite large and they had an iridescent sheen to them that could almost pass for a trick of the light. Upon closer inspection, the eggs had almost a geometric, scale-like pattern to them. Some spots thinner than others, giving a suggestion of something curled up inside.

Something warm and joyous roared in Malleus. A jolt of...something...struck deep at his core and all his nerves sang at once. Was this the parental instinct? He felt his eyesight sharpen, honing in on his clutch. His pointed ears flexed, somehow taking in the myriad of sounds around him to the point where he could tell Epel's nose was stuffed and Trey had a dry throat. Magic radiated off of him, sensed but unseen as it seeped into various objects around the room and things began to jump and float.

You picked up the nearest egg and he found it positively endearing. It was nearly as big as your torso! "We got eggs?" you were absolutely confused and held it out to him as if he could explain.

"Indeed! A fine bunch!" Malleus scooped up the other four and excused himself. The specks of green magic had just died when he returned with a basket woven from black briars. Humming and glittering with magic, Malleus gestured for you to put your egg in the vacant spot. The briar vines were alive, curling carefully around the other eggs--thorns facing out--and acting as individual holders.

Something in you said no and you weren't sure why. You just...didn't want to let it go. The egg seemed to pulse against you. "No," you shook your head as Malleus re-wove the briar vines to wrap around his body like some sort of vest, "my egg."

He let out a peal of laughter, head tilted back. Fae were nothing if not protective of their young. Dragon fae were a league above. Perhaps the eggs had cast an enchantment on their magicless parent? Or were his tendencies rubbing off on you? Either way, it was precious.

He'd want nothing less out of his partner.

Anything Crewel said was lost on Malleus, the future king looking over his shelled children as if they were the most precious jewels. His attention was recaptured by the sight of Deuce helping wrestle the assignment binder into your bag. Realizing this was the class that didn't have Lilia, Sebek, or Silver, he requested the class NOT breathe a word to the other Diasomnia students.

It was meant as a request but it came off as more of a decree. A command.

He wanted to give Lilia a proper scare. It was only fair, given his constant nagging and fretting over eggs. The old bat was more than due for a good startle.

"Come, Child of Man!"

You were surprised Malleus wanted to walk to Diasomnia instead of teleport. He explained that dragon eggs were nurtured by the same things that created them--magic and love. The basket was steadily infusing the eggs with his magic, strengthening the children aiding in proper growth. Teleporting may startle them and bursts of magic weren't really suitable for egg development. "So, wait, you love me?"

Your smile was teasing but no less beautiful to him. "Of course," he said with an honesty and ease that hinted at his sheltered upbringing, almost bewildered that you couldn't understand that yourself. "Ceaselessly. That's why Lilia separates us. It would be far too easy to make eggs. Advantageous, though. You can never have enough dragon fae!"

All you could do was blush. Malleus was quite happy with himself. The eggs wiggled and clattered softly against each other, their version of bouncing with delight. You were quite a fertile partner! It was rare enough to sire one egg every few hundred years but you had five!

If you became fae, how many clutches would you have? Malleus wanted a big family, personally. Perhaps one day a Draconia would rule each dorm at NRC! He at least wanted enough that no one felt sick trying to eat a birthday cake.

Malleus flung the door to Diasomnia open with enough force that it ricocheted off the stone, unable to control his strength in his excitement. "Behold, I have sired!"

Sebek was the only noticeable victim, midway through a sip of tea. He practically sucked the cup dry and began to choke. He didn't know whether to lean between his legs and let things drain or throw himself over the back of the couch and clear his throat. Lilia dropped his cup and saucer, tea spilling onto the couch and cup splintering on the floor as he took to beating Sebek on the back. The poor boy was basically being ground into the stone.

You wondered if Lilia looked terrified at the idea of Sebek choking or the sight of the eggs in the basket. His hair was more pointed than usual, seeming to float in distress. Silver had been jostled awake but couldn't quite understand what he was looking at.

These three didn't have potions until later on in the week so Malleus spoiled the lesson for them. Poor Lilia still looked like he wanted to have a heart attack. "We should tell Queen Maleficia."

"Perhaps when they hatch," Malleus was already looking for things to make a nest. It was imperative that his children were comfortable and guarded. You as well! He actually had the brilliant idea to build the nest with you at the center so the children could feel the love you emitted. Yes, you may be a different species and there would be many things to discuss about handling fae but he had no doubts of your capacity to love them.

Your nest was finished off with a fine, fluffy blanket that was surprisingly warm. Far warmer than it looked. "It is made of dragon scale," Malleus explained as he fanned it out over you and the clutch until he was satisfied, "we dragons can repurpose our shedding into things with magical properties."

"These blankets are usually familial gifts," Lilia added as he swept up the pieces of his broken cup. "They're handy for fighting the hibernation instincts when the colder months come."

"What if it's too warm for the kids?"

To hear you say the word 'kids' sent his stomach curling and churning in a way that left him oblivious to your worries. He's surprised a sixth egg didn't spawn, honestly.

What if they couldn't handle the heat as well since you were human? Wouldn't it, like, cook them?

"Fear not, my child of man. Draconias require heat, as we are a fire-breathing variant of dragon fae. They will be fine."

You hummed interestedly and resigned yourself to laying there for a while. It was weird to feel the eggs wiggling and pulsing around you. When you slipped out to grab your binder and see just what this assignment entailed, you were delighted to find Malleus almost stubbornly sticking himself under the blanket. It was for a constant infusion of magic, he said, but you were sure he just didn't want to leave the children alone. He looked obscenely happy to be around the eggs, squishing his lanky form down to touch all five.

The assignment was pretty basic---watch the kid (or kids) for a week and fill out some pages on height, weight, favorite activities, foods, and have them work on a few worksheets so Crewel could review their cognitive development. There were even spots to put handprints and footprints!

"How long do dragon fae even take to hatch?" you asked as you flipped through the assignment. "What if they're not hatched in a week?"

"It's an advanced spell so I'm sure the incubation process will be sped up, too." Lilia rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But dragons hatch at different rates. There's a lot of factors involved."

"Which is why you should come back to the nest. Maybe they'll hatch faster if we're together." Malleus peeled back a corner of the blanket for you, eggs already clustered in his lap. You humored him, sliding back in and taking two of the eggs. The blanket was pooled around you now, eggs on full display. Silver and Sebek hovered at the edge of the nest, wanting to touch the eggs but a little hesitant.

"Only a little," Malleus cautioned them, his eyes bright. "I don't know if they would funnel your magic."

"Nonsense, my boy," Lilia returned with a thick book and tapped it on Malleus' head gently. "I held you plenty and I was fine. The eggs need to be exposed to all kinds." his clever ploy of handing Malleus a book of names in exchange for an egg almost cost him an arm.

"Instinct," Malleus apologized, letting go. His cheeks were tinged with pink.

"Likewise," Lilia gave him a cheeky smile, egg now cradled to his chest. He held it with both hands and bounced it a little. "This one might be a boy. Feels as heavy as you did!"

The book fell open to the 'M' section and you found it a bit curious. It was even weirder when you realized it fell open to MAL as if this section had been searched for a thousand times. "We Draconia have a tradition with our names," Malleus explained, pointing to his. "As followed by my mother," he pointed to 'Maleanor', "and her mother before her," he pointed to 'Maleficia'.

Thus began a discussion of names. Sebek and Silver were more than happy to give their input. They were quite handy in making sure the names weren't TOO weird. After hearing some of the ones that came out of Lilia's mouth, you could tell Silver was happy to get off with such a simple name. "I was actually thinking of renaming you at one point, you know," Lilia looked at the silver-haired boy, "too many people thought your name was too close to 'iron'. They thought you'd be unlucky."

"I like my name." Silver mumbled quietly.

After what felt like hours, you settled on five names: Malachite, Malum, Mallar, Malchus, and Malric. Lilia had picked up all the eggs and was convinced they were boys. You weren't sure how fae could judge gender from an egg, but he'd been around a lot longer than you. Malleus was so engrossed in the name exchange that he hadn't noticed Lilia sneaking the eggs off his lap to give them to Silver and Sebek. The sight of everyone holding an egg was sweet, you thought.

And realistic. If Malleus ever did have children, Silver, Sebek, and Lilia would be crucial in their lives.

The egg in your lap began to rattle. A deep crack formed at the top. Malleus quickly put it next to his. Three eggs hemmed the two. Hatchings usually happened together, you supposed, because the cracking of the first egg seemed to cause small cracks in the one next to it.

These little eggs were practically hatching in your lap and you were too scared, to in awe, to move them. You saw glimpses of wet scales, tiny horns, little claws, and maybe a tail before they started climbing out of the eggs. It was a very slimy affair. "A double! OH SEVENS, A DOUBLE!" Lilia practically inhaled a piece of eggshell when two little dragons climbed out of one egg. Malleus separated them gently, holding one each by their tender little bellies. He cooed at them.

"This one smells different," Malleus narrowed his eyes at the one in his right hand. Lilia gave it a cautious sniff.

"It's a girl!" Lilia, Sebek, and Malleus gave the others another smell in case the missed the gender. End result: five boys, one girl. 'Malin' was a maybe name that became a real one. Lilia ran off to tell Maleficia--somehow? You weren't sure how. Couldn't imagine a Queen having a cell phone--while the four of you started trying to get...claw prints...for the assignment.

Human babies, you had an idea of. Fussy when hungry, wet, and practically anything else but dragon babies were on a different level! You felt like you were wrestling a big cat! They were on the playful side, thankfully, but touching their claws and tiny pads earned gummy nips and a lot of writhing.

Silver was having the easiest time, somehow. Sebek had already been tail-slapped and gummed. A second dragon was climbing up his back and pawing at his hair. You had huffy, smoky protests and some scratches from the one in front of you; the other was currently chewing on your shirt and pulling at it. Malleus was locked in the growl version of a 'yes-no' as his dragon baby rolled every which way but onto the paper correctly.

This was going to be a long week.

Your week consisted of:

Trying to find a way to differentiate them. You tried painting their claws a certain color but that went as well as trying to get a print for the assignment. Tying cute little bandannas and things around their necks just caused a bunch of shredded mess to be cleaned up. You finally learned to tell them apart by the slight color difference in their bellies

Malric and Malin getting into fights consistently, tangling themselves into a big ball of scales and snarling and nipping at each other. The other three were usually a casualty. Malachite figured out he could separate them by flopping on top of them when they rolled by.

Malum was a biter and Mallar was a head-butter. When the twins turned on Malachite (as they often would), Mallar would come out of nowhere to headbutt Malric. You don't know how Malin escaped practically unscathed when she was literally half the problem. Malchus was your 'they're doing it again!' alarm child.

Lots of baby dragon ambushes. You're only holding ONE of them? HOW DARE YOU! You will soon find yourself besieged by baby dragons as they crawl over each other to cuddle and get attention. It doesn't matter what you were doing or holding before the onslaught.

Finding random piles of equally random things. Malleus says they're trying to build their hoard. Random 'hoards' you've found include: socks, silverware, pens, pencils, buttons, and several Diasomnia hats.

They learn to blow smoke at each other when they have their dragon arguments and it's not uncommon for windows to be opened to air Diasomnia out. Malleus is highly amused.

Zoomies at night. Because they're dragon fae, they're nocturnal and they don't understand you need to sleep. They usually sleep in a supervised pile in Malleus' room but will cause an UNGODLY amount of noise if they're not entertained.

They have cuddle piles when they sleep. Silver is main cuddle pillow. He's practically smothered by baby dragons but they all make these tiny, happy chirps when they nap with him. Sebek tried to wake Silver up and got three clouds of smoke blown at him all at once.

Taking them to NRC on Day 1 was a terrible, terrible idea. They were after anything that wasn't nailed down (for the hoard), wanted to climb everything, and would randomly squirm out of your arms to follow the students if something interested them. Idia about pissed himself when he noticed one had followed him to flying class.

Making it through a day of classes was almost impossible. Lilia, Sebek, and Malleus were constantly texting each other to do a kid count after Idia brought Malachite back. You didn't even know that Mallar had disappeared (you had Malin and Malum) until you heard about Sebek interrupting one of Cater's lives to snatch the baby dragon from him! After nearly giving Trein a heart attack and politely rescuing Lucius from Malin, the teachers agreed to make all of your assignments 'take home' until the kids were more...controllable.

You want to try socializing them again on Day 2 but Lilia insists they're still too feral and he doesn't want a repeat of Day 1. He has found immense joy in the laser light Idia gave him. It keeps him AND the kids occupied!

You and Malleus are doing constant kid counts. More than once you've only found five instead of six and Lilia is usually the culprit. Malchus is the number one victim.

They get their human form on day 3. You're not too hurt that they look like copies of Malleus. It's a spell and he's the one that has magic. He argues that some of the kids have your eye color, though. Malum has your hair color.

After Day 3, things get considerably easier. Feeding them is no longer a thing where you might have to write your will in advance. They're more open to trying things and quit trying to eat off of each other's plates like they'll never see food again. You think you see some sharing!

They speak in small sentences and prefer to point to things they want. Their favorite thing to do is to hang off of someone's shoulders (usually Malleus) and just guide them to what they want.

Malric likes spicy food, Malin prefers salty things, Malum is your unexpected sweets kid, Malchus devours all things citrus and sour, Malachite will eat a whole loaf of bread if you don't watch him, and Mallar is the pickiest eater.

Malum is your gentle cuddlebug

Mallar has physically fought Lilia over dinner because he didn't want to eat what Lilia cooked. He was the first one to breathe fire and almost burned Lilia's nose.

You measured the children for the assignment and was surprised to see that Malum was tallest. He spent so much time cuddled up to you that you didn't notice. Malachite is second-tallest, Malric just after him, with Malin and Mallar being tied for shortest.

Silver takes them on a walk through the woods every afternoon. He makes everyone hold hands. Malleus isn't far behind and usually steals one to ride on his shoulders.

Despite how loud he is, none of the kids really listen to Sebek. Malleus and Lilia make them listen. Malachite is the first to leave room when Sebek gets loud. Malin is most likely to comfort him and make an effort. She coaches him, to your surprise ("People would like you more if you weren't so loud.")

Lilia invites Baur over to see the children because he just has to brag. Something about the intimidating crocodile fae sends Mallar into a hissing, gouging mood and Baur is most amused. He play wrestles with them (as much as a stern-faced ex warrior plays) and thinks they'll make fine fighters one day.

Malin accidentally scratched a scale off of him and got a little worried. Baur and Lilia were in shock. "A fine princess! You'll take after your grandma one day!" Lilia smiled.

Day 4 is a visit from Queen Maleficia herself and you don't know what to think. The kids have all huddled around you--protecting you--as they assess this new dragon. You expected her to be much harsher, getting the anti-human warnings and all, but she's nicer than anticipated. The most she said to you was 'Impressive clutch size' but that counted, right?

Malchus, your favorite kitchen helper, caught what he thought was a look from her. One aimed at you. He looks her dead in her face and says, 'If you don't like them, I won't love you for a thousand years."

She laughed so hard you didn't know what to think. Neither did Lilia.

Queen Maleficia brought them little trinkets and snacks from Briar Valley. Their favorite thing was a back-scratcher. They sat at her feet for hours, just letting that rough weird brush go over them. The dragon vocals were in full swing and she answered them in dragon speak. She was impressed with how they helped Lilia set the table and had a good laugh at Mallar saying, "If you don't let Lilia cook I will love you for a thousand years."

It was an unexpected visit but it couldn't have gone too badly because there was no lightning involved (according to Lilia).

Day 5 saw you trying to integrate the kids into NRC. It went much smoother this time but there were still disappearances. And favorites.

Malin seemed to like hanging out with Jack and Trey the most and got in trouble more than once for trying to pick pieces of fur off of Crewel's coat.

Mallar liked Cater and Kalim; Mallar was actually one of the more outgoing kids.

Malchus found company with Epel and Jamil. He'd go on and on about how Epel talked funny and Jamil made the most delicious food ever.

Malachite thought Idia's hair was cool and wanted to know what all of his 'strange stuff' did. That discussion led to Rook butting in and saying how cool Science Club was, so Malachite ended up following Rook around to learn things after Idia's people battery was drained.

Malric was heavily influenced by Ace; the two had gotten in trouble for letting the flamingos out but he didn't care because he got to ride one. He promptly stole Riddle's tiny crown while the redhead attempted to lecture him and only gave it back after Malleus literally dragged him to the throne room of Heartslabyul and held him up by the back of his shirt like a sad puppy.

Malum liked to stick with Silver but was encouraged to get to know Riddle while learning to ride horses. The young dragon was impressed by what Riddle knew and asked him a million questions. Riddle suggested he get to know Azul, but Malum quickly decided that friendship was not for him. Azul smelled funny and he had an overwhelming urge to bite him. In the end, his favorite person on campus was Lucius (even though that doesn't count).

They wrote down who they hung out with, what they liked, and what they did for Crewel before taking their assessments.

The end of the assignment saw you and Malleus with an A; the kids were healthy and strong. Their assessments were all above average but Crewel could see that only Malachite and Malum actually tried. Malric did it because he was nagged, Malchus was told he'd sit there for however long it took (no interest whatsoever), and Malin did it with such disdain her papers were actually singed.

Before the kids disappeared, you were presented with a bunch of scales and shedding. It was heartwarming. Lilia did say the sheddings were familial, after all.

They disappeared in a puff of smoke and you let everything settle. You survived five days with dragons! That was impressive! As if he could read your mind, Malleus said, "Grandmother was impressed, too. She looks forward to her great-grandchildren coming around again."

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

👶 The Doctor's Children – A Surprisingly Crowded Family Tree

The Doctor's family tree is quite confusing, and they've gained a few, whether through biological means, paradoxes, accidental adoption, or being forcefully handed a kid by a machine. Here is a whistlestop tour of the Doctor's children.

📜 The One Everyone Knows: Susan Foreman

The Doctor's most famous (and only consistently acknowledged) child connection is Susan Foreman, their granddaughter, who travelled with the First Doctor.

But where did Susan come from? That depends on which version of the story you believe:

In the simplest version, Susan was the Doctor's biological granddaughter, a fact reinforced by nearly everyone who knew them.

One account states Susan's father was the eldest of thirteen children the Doctor had with a woman named Patience. (Thirteen! The real mystery is how the Doctor ever found time to travel.)

Another version claims Susan was actually the last womb-born child on Gallifrey before the Pythia's Curse and was sent away by the Other (a mysterious figure some believe to be an ancient version of the Doctor).

The Curator later cited Susan's existence as proof that the Doctor had not been "a virgin," reinforcing the idea of a biological lineage.

However, some sources claim Susan was actually Lady Larn, a Gallifreyan contemporary of the Doctor whom he had rescued from civil strife. Meanwhile, the Book of the War suggests "Grandfather" was just an honorary title among Loom-born aristocratic families.

The Fifteenth Doctor recently hinted that he had "not yet" fathered or given birth to one of Susan's parents, strongly implying that time travel played a role in how Susan and the Doctor met in the first place.

And if that wasn't confusing enough, some stories claim Susan was the daughter of a Lord President, while others say her parents ran a concept shop.

🔬 The One Created by a Machine: Jenny

Some children are planned. Some are accidents. And then some are force-grown from your DNA by an alien military machine in the middle of a war zone.

That's how the Tenth Doctor got Jenny, a fully armed and combat-ready daughter created by a progenation machine.

At first, the Doctor refused to acknowledge her as family. Then she immediately died (which, in classic Doctor fashion, was the fastest way to get them emotionally invested). Fortunately, she survived, stole a spaceship, and went off on her own adventures.

👶 The One Who Might Be a Time Paradox: Miranda Dawkins

The Eighth Doctor adopted Miranda Dawkins, a girl with a mysterious past, enormous intelligence, and an uncanny ability to make all the wrong people very nervous.

Turns out, Miranda wasn't just any kid—she was the daughter of the Doctor's own future self, known as the Emperor. Which means the Doctor raised their own daughter from the future.

🌱 The One That Was a Literal Plant: The Sapling

Because why stop at humanoid children?

The Eleventh Doctor and Alice Obiefune ended up accidentally and technically parenting a sentient tree child called The Sapling.

The Sapling, part of a species known as the Planting, could absorb memories. Naturally, spending time with the Doctor meant absorbing some of the strangest experiences in the universe before setting off on its own path.

🌀 The Ones Who Might Have Existed (Or Maybe Not)

The Doctor has made many cryptic comments about having been a parent, but they're frustratingly vague.

The First Doctor confirmed he had children—'sons or daughters… or both'—which is about as helpful as saying 'I own a number of shoes.'

The Eighth Doctor outright admitted to having 'at least one' child, which is refreshingly direct (if still wildly unspecific).

The Ninth and Tenth Doctors both referenced having been a dad, usually while making a dramatic point about loss.

The Twelfth Doctor refused to answer directly, but his incredibly defensive reaction probably says it all.

The Fifteenth Doctor recently hinted that he hasn't yet had children… which raises even more questions.

🏫 So…

How many kids does the Doctor actually have?

Confirmed? At least a few.

Implied? Several more.

Accidental adoptions, paradox children, and weird plant offspring? An alarming number.

For someone who claims to prefer being alone, they sure keep accumulating children... and then forgetting to check in on them.

The real question should be: Doctor, where are your kids?

Whoniverse Facts for Friday by GIL

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[ameliathornromance]

With the Prophecy drawing near, you sighed as you watched a bunch of the Usurpare Knights clank their tankards together.

They all jeered and as the rest of the Tavern drank in resolute silence. You always hated serving the Usurparian forces.

Since their take over, forty years ago, they’d been nothing but trouble. You’d seen them mistreat your father – a half Fae man – for over twenty years and now with the Princess of Lemuria’s prophecy drawing near… You didn’t even want to think about the consequences of what would happen if they were victorious in their battle.

Half of the patrons in this Tavern were Creatures, and while the Tavern sat on the Usurpare and Lemurian border – leaning more to the Lemurian side – if the Usurpare forces won, that would spell the end of your families business. Being mostly run by Creatures, the Tavern would probably be forced to shut down.

Which would also mean that the Creatures who came to the Tavern for comfort, would have no where else to go and then, would be forced into unsavoury work.

The other patrons, all shot the Usurparian men dirty looks as they laughed loudly and drunkenly.

You sighed, cleaning a glass in your hand with a dish rag.

Other Side above, what you would give for them to be quiet.

The Creature Patrons all gave you sympathetic looks as one of the Knights approached you. “Darling, would you give me-” but before the Knight could finish, he had fallen face first onto the wooden floor, earning a roar of laughter from his fellows.

You didn’t bother to look over the counter as the Knight clambered back up to his feet, the red feathers pluming out of his golden armour helmet, matching the glow of his cheeks.

He could hardly suppress his drunken giggle as he asked, “c-could you… ahaha! Could you please- please get me and my- my friends some more of that delicious nectar you- you have?”

With one glance over at the other soldiers, who were all still chortling and barely keeping themselves together, you replied, “no. I think I’m going to cut you guys off, as a matter of fact.”

Partly, you were bitter about who they worked for. The King of Usurpare – or the Usurper King as the Lemurians called him – was well known as quite a cruel and unforgiving man.

You’d heard stories about how he’d treated his mother when she was still alive. He routinely used her as target practice for archery and demanded that she always be the one to help him collect his arrows, before he’d order her to stick an apple on the top of her head and resume her ‘rightful position’ as the King would say.

It was only a matter of time before he missed the apple on his mothers head. And one day, he did.

Who would willingly pledge their sword to a man like that? Who slaughtered his own mother for the sake of becoming a better aim?

If you were going to be cruel, at least put someone in the position who deserved it. Like a murderer or thief who stole from charities. Even a servant would have been better than his own mother.

The other part of you despised the Knights on the basis of what they did to your parents. Your father was beaten more times than you could count, just because of his Fae heritage and your mother was forced to watch.

Some of the Knights, at least seemed to be apprehensive to their behaviours… but more often than not, it was the malicious kind of person, who just wanted to beat up Creatures because of their own prejudices, who joined the Usurper King’s forces.

You had served these Knights on the basis that they would have one drink and then would have gone back to their camp, which was based a few miles out from the Tavern.

But nope. They had decided to outstay their welcome.

At your refusal, the drunken Knight’s face fell. He no longer chuckled like an idiot, and instead, slammed his fist down on the counter. “Look, darling,” he slurred. “I’m not playing games! No games!” He flung his arm out like he was swatting at an invisible fly. “So, stop with the joke and gimme more drinks!”

“You still haven’t paid for your first half,” you said, coldly. “And look at the lot of you, I don’t even think you’ve even got a Jule to share between the lot of you.”

The Knight’s face contorted. “Thatss not true!” He snapped. Turning on his heel, he called out to his fellows, “oi! Do you guys have any more Jules?”

“Tell her she can get fucked if she thinks we’re paying!” One of the Knights shouted. “His Majesty will be running this land soon enough, and then we won’t have to pay for drinks!”

You rolled your eyes, “sorry. Guess that means no more drinks for any of you.”

“Now listen here, bitch.” The Knight snarled. “You are gonna get me and my friends-” he hiccuped. “More drinks, so help you Prophet Lilybeth, and we won’t pay for them…”

“She said no.”

Both you and the Knight’s heads whipped around to face the other end of the bar. Shrouded in darkness, but still visible thanks to the candle light on the table, a cloaked figure turned to face you.

“Look, while you’re here, this is the bar keeps land.” The figure said. He rose his own tankard and gestured to you. “Not Lemurian, not Usurparian; Hers. Now why don’t you back off, and leave her be? She’s trying to save your Usurper assess from getting liver failure.”

You search your mind for the figures appearance. He’d been in the Tavern since it’d opened that morning, one of the first Patrons to walk in… of course, you met a lot of people while working this job, but why couldn’t you remember his appearance?

From the place you stood behind the bar, you could tell he was descended from Orcs, no thanks to the green skin and tusks sticking out the bottom of his jaw. But there was something else that made him recognisable, apart from his Creature appearance.

“What did you just say?” The Knight at the bar asked. “’Cos I could’ve sworn you were telling me to fuck off? Did I hear that correctly lads?”

The other Knights stood, and joined their companion at the bar.

“Well,” the Orc paused, looking up to the roof of the Tavern as if in deep thought. “Sure, that’s one way to put it.”

Before things would get too out of hand, you spoke up, “look, I don’t want any issues here. You guys can just leave and no one has to get into fights or anything like that.”

But the Knight’s ignored you and headed for the Orc on the opposite side of the room.

Sighing, you reached under the table for your own dagger, kept exclusively for this kind of situation. It was by no means a weapon meant for long fights, but it could do some damage if it had to.

While you hated the Usurpare forces, you weren’t just about to question their abilities as soldiers. If you were going to strike, it would have to be hard and fast.

But it turns out, you didn’t have to worry about that.

Before you could even wrap your fingers around the handle of the dagger, the Orc had stood. His arm shot out like a hunting snake and gripped the first Knight’s throat.

As the man choked, the Orc lifted the man into the air, his feet dangling off the ground. “Look, I’m just trying to enjoy my drink before I set off into the Lemurian bollocks freezing snow,” the Orc sighed. “And the lady behind the bar is just doing her job, so as kindly as possible,” the Orc swung the man and knocked all the other Knights to the ground with one swing.

Their armour clanged as they fell on top of each other. The Orc dropped the man in his hand and bent over the group of cowering soldiers, “fuck off back to your King. I hear he’s in for it regarding trying to take the Fortress Imbolc. He’s going to need all the support he can get. And if you want free drinks,” the Orc glowered, “I suggest you get going.”

As if commanded, the Knights all scrambled over one another and darted out of the Tavern without a word. “This isn’t over, Orc!” The first Knight who spoke to you shouted. “We’ll have ya head!”

And with that, they vanished off into the snowy wasteland outside.

The Orc huffed, dusting off his arms. He grabbed his tankard and came over to the bar, where he sat in front of you. “I’m sorry about that lot,” he grumbled. “Usurparian soldiers are just such bastards.”

You pursed your lips as you took the tankard from him and refilled it. “I know. Thank you for that.” Placing the tankard back on the bar, the Orc took it and gulped it down in one go.

After that, he sighed, and wiped the foam off his top lip. “You alright miss?” He asked you.

“I’m fine. Takes a lot more than that to scare me.” You assured. “Believe me, they’ve done worse before.”

He looked down at the tankard, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He mumbled.

You shook your head. “It’s just how it is, isn’t it?” You sighed, returning to your glass polishing. “They come in, push us all around and then expect to get everything handed to them on a silver platter for it.”

The Orc chuckled. “That is true.”

He looked up at you again, pulling down his hood. “I’m Kaus.”

When you looked back at him, his hair shocked you. It was clipped short at the sides, leaving only a healthy mop of it on the top of his head. It looked like it hadn’t been washed in days, weeks maybe.

“(Y/N).” You returned. “… What happened then?”

Kaus sniffed and pushed his hair back. “Got asked to come up North by the Dux. Invite from the Undying Lord.” He clarified at your confused expression. “’Cos the Princess is about to make her great venture into the East to kill the Usurper King, the Lord said that we could stay with him until the fights over.”

“And then something happened?” You asked.

“And then something happened.” Kaus confirmed. “So, I did what you do when that happens, I cut all my hair off and now just wander.”

You didn’t want to pry into what had exactly happened. It probably wasn’t pretty and he didn’t seem like he was open to talk about it any more than you already had.

So, you took his tankard, refilled it and placed it back in front of him. “Don’t worry about paying. Seems as though you could use a break.”

Kaus took the drink and looked at the foamy liquid. “Great, more alcohol to drown my sorrows in.” Despite his sarcastic remark, he still chugged it down.

“You didn’t have to drink it if you didn’t want to.” You told him. “No ones forcing you to.”

“That wasn’t me saying no to alcohol, barkeep.” Kaus gave you a lopsided smile, leaning on his hand. “But right now, this is all I got.”

You pursed your lips, uncertain if it was your place to say what you were about to.

But this Orc seemed to be in a really bad headspace. And you didn’t want to contribute to making it any worse.

“Look,” you said, leaning forward. “I don’t know what happened that made you come here, but… please don’t drown your sorrows in alcohol. It’s not like that will solve anything. It won’t bring anyone back, it won’t undo whatever’s been done and it won’t make you feel any better if you’re already spiralling.”

The Orc’s smile faded. He stared at you for a moment, contemplating his own thoughts. “Alright,” he said. Sitting up right, he dug into his cloak pocket and threw a few gold Jules on the table. “I’ll stop but only because it’s you asking,” He gave you a smirk. “And you seem very kind, (Y/N).”

He finished his tankard and stood.

“I said that you didn’t have to pay-”

“It’s a tip.” Kaus said. “Do you mind if I come back tomorrow? Just to keep an eye out for those guys again. I won’t be drinking this time.”

You nodded at him, “I’d like that.”

And the next few days, he kept coming back. He sat at the bar and chatted to you when you weren’t seeing other customers, gave narrowed glares to any Usurpare soldiers who walked in and also helped see out drunkards who just didn’t know when to stop drinking.

You felt bad that he was doing all this to help you out and receiving no payment for it.

During his time spent in the Tavern, you learned that he was an only child, was an expert at using a battle axe and had once out-drunk an Fae at their own game.

He also got along well with regulars, and would often entertain them once they were drinking, cracking jokes and playing cards.

The whole place just seemed more lively when he was around and people regularly came to the Tavern looking for him if they needed cheering up.

When the Tavern was closing one night, he went to bid you farewell, but you stopped him. “Wait, hold on.” You’d grabbed his wrist as he had one foot out the door. “I wanted to offer you something.”

Kaus raised an eyebrow. “Offer me what?” A smirk crossed his lips, “a place in your bed?”

Grown used to his teasing now, you swatted him on the arm, to which he laughed and you rolled your eyes. You let go of his wrist and turned your back on him. “Well, I was going to offer you a job here, but if you’re going to be making jokes like that-”

“No, no, no!” Kaus pleaded.

When you looked back around at him, his hands were pressed together. He lowered his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” He looked up at you. “Do you really want to give me a job?”

You nodded. “As bouncer. But I doubt that you’ll have to do anything other than drink and play cards with the other patrons. People really seem to like you here.” You smiled. “And I like you being here too.”

Kaus’ face lit up at your words. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.”

And so, you started to give the Orc a pay check, week after week.

You noticed as well, that after being given this job, his whole outward appearance had changed. His hair was now washed, and styled to that it feathered upwards to the air.

He got rid of his cloak and exchanged it for a beige tunic and brown vest, which he matched with blue trousers.

Sometimes he made drinks – with your super vision of course – and made a whole show of it for guests.

It seemed as though he had really enjoyed working here for you.

And one night, after closing up the Tavern, he said to you, “do you know, I think I really feel happy here.”

You snorted and laughed as you closed the shutters. “Well I should hope so.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Kaus said, smiling. “I meant… before you allowed me to come in here and pester you, I really didn’t have any direction to go in. I was just drinking and hoping that it would drown out the awfulness of my existence… But with you,” He looked at you. “You drown out all that badness… I’ve actually started thinking about growing my hair back.”

You tried to imagine the Orc with long hair. He’d kept it short the whole time he’d been under your employment, but when you imagined him with it… He didn’t look half bad.

He gave you a smile. Not a smirk or smug grin, a real, genuine smile. “But… agh sorry, that was a really weird way to go into this. But I was wondering, if-”

A knock on the door interrupted him.

Kaus sighed and rolled his eyes as you called out, “we’re closed!” You grabbed the plank of wood you kept next to the door to lock it, but just as you were about to set it in place, a voice from the other side responded: “This is the Lemurian Guard! We need to speak to the Orc.”

Whipping around to look at Kaus, he gave you a shrug.

The Lemurian guards were always better customers than the Usurparian. And because they’d always been good to the Tavern and it’s other patrons, you opened the door to them.

Their silver armour glinted in the Taverns candle light as they stepped inside, tracking in snow from the cold darkness outside.

“Why do you need to see Kaus?” You asked, frowning. “He’s not done anything wrong. He’s a good Orc.”

The soldier shook his head, “he hasn’t done anything wrong, the King and Queen request an audience with him.”

“What?” Kaus peered his head around the door, “why?”

This baffled you as much as it did him, including the Lemurian soldier. “I’ve just been sent to come and get you. According to a report we’ve had filed, you share a distaste for the Usurper and his forces. And as far as I can gather, that’s why the King and Queen want to see you.”

You and Kaus looked at each other. “And I’m assuming I can’t refuse?” Kaus asked, finally.

“No. You can’t.” The soldier said. “Now please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is, and come along quietly.”

Kaus gave you a furtive glance. “… Is it okay if I take some time off?” He asked you, smiling sheepishly.

“Looks like I don’t have a choice but to give you some,” you sighed. “Be safe, okay?”

He nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder. “I promise I will.” Kaus stepped outside the Tavern and into the darkness, following the soldier.

He was only a few steps ahead before he turned and called to you. “How about we share a drink when I get back?! Like a date!”

You were stunned by his question, but given that he was getting further and further away into the darkness, you called back, “yeah! That sounds great!”

You heard Kaus’ whooping from as he vanished deeper into the darkness.

Smiling, you continued closing up the whole Tavern. You couldn’t stop your grin as you blew out the candles and made sure all the windows and doors were locked, before proceeding upstairs to your room, where you fell into a deep sleep, smile still plastered on your face.

You only really began to worry about Kaus, when he wasn’t back the next morning.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

If you’re not sure about signing up, I have a 7 day free trial enabled on my £2 tier so you can see if you like my work written there!

Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[vampire-oc-lover]

SWEET CREATURE

Alfred Pennyworth x reader

⚠️: This was written with a translator :)

(This is my first story)

Alfred has been sitting on a chair listening to classical music for some time now. The mansion was cleaned, Bruce and his children went out on a mission and all Alfred had to do was wait for them to return or for them to report that they need some kind of help.

During these lonely nights when he stays alone in the mansion, he starts to remember the past, the long goon past when he was still young. He would remember his family, which has been dead for a long time, verius merchants and people he met in his life. Bruces parents as well as that terrible night when they were killed.

And in the end he would remember her.

He would remember her beauty, her gentle touch and her soft voice calling him.

Alfred was never a man who would bet on anything, but that her eyes were attractive, that they lured him to her, he would bet everything he ever had on that.

It was hard to forget her, in truth he never did. She was always on his mind and in his dreams, most things reminded him of her.

What he would give to see her one more time.... Touch her one more time.... Hear her voice one more time, everything. But now he is an old man, often thinking "whats the point of wishing when everything is almost over, she is most likely already dead.".

Alfred is old, maybe a little too old to understand or notice that she was watching him all this time, always a few steps behind him.

After all, what's a few years to a vampire when they live forever?

[bwat5-blog]

It Was Never Jinx's War

**Spoilers For Arcane**

I have written quite a bit about Jinx, and touched on this topic briefly, but I felt that it deserved more than my sarcastic blurbs. Today I wanted to talk a little bit about Jinx, and her being forced into the role of a revolutionary by her people and fans alike. So what do I actually mean?

I mean to address statements like these from fans:

Jinx should have lead Zaun in a civil war!

Jinx should have ripped Caitlyn apart!

The writers are coward for making Jinx apologize to Caitlyn!

What did they do to Revolutionary Jinx?! She was meant to lead the uprising!

I'm not going to spend time going through her whole story again. I have done so many times in various forms as have many others. And I have to assume if you are on Tumblr reading some grouchy nerd's rambling about Jinx, you already know her story. So first let's discuss one question.

Does Jinx hate Piltover/The Enforcers?

OBVIOUSLY. And she has every reason to. Growing up as a Zaunite means she grew up suffering under Piltovan oppression. And the Enforcers took her parent's lives. Take Silco and his teachings totally out of the picture and Jinx still has every reason to feel how she feels. I don't deny that at all. But feeling that way is not the same as being a violent revolutionary for her own reasons and choices. So let's discuss the moments from season 1 that created this false idea that the Jinx we know was fighting for her people's freedom with what she did.

SEASON 1

As A Kid:

It probably seems silly to most of you, it certainly did to me. But I have legitimately seen the example used that Powder was making bombs and had filled one with nails for the Enforcers to justify this idea. Listen folks, she was 11. I'm not saying she didn't want to help her family or wasn't willing. But equating that with wanting to be part of a violent revolution is foolish. In fact we see that childish (not said negatively just honestly) enthusiasm without consideration of consequence play out when she tries to help save Vander.

2. The Theft:

Okay. So this is her first real act as Jinx that I have seen attributed to her being a revolutionary for Zaun fighting the system. Most of the justification for this comes down to the simple fact that she stole from Piltover and hurt Enforcers. Jinx lights a building on fire, drawing Enforcers in using a fake child's voice, then blows it up killing six Enforcers and stealing the hex-tech gemstone. What does that mean?

Stole a source of power from Piltover that gives Silco and opportunity to study hex-tech

Killed Enforcers

Okay. I can see the revolutionary point for sure. Except for one problem. Jinx didn't do any of this for Zaun. Let's roll the tape!

Our reintroduction to Powder who has now become Jinx is the fight between Silco's people and The Firelights on Progress Day. During that incident Jinx sees a firelight that resembles Vi and loses control. This leads to conflict with Sevika.

Later, Sevika and Silco are discussing what happened. Sevika is angry:

Sevika: "She's a problem and we all know it" Silco shuts her down. It is then revealed Jinx has been listening the entire time and she talks with Silco: Jinx: "one of those firelight wackos was a girl with pink hair" Silco: "todays screwup will set us back weeks" Jinx: "I'm sorry" Silco: "I need to know I can rely on you..... Sevika will clean up todays mess" Jinx: "Sevika? That ogre couldn't clean a dust bunny with a blow torch" Silco: "Take some time" Jinx: "I don't need time" Silco: "Take it anyhow"

Jinx is quite visibly upset and leaves

We rejoin Jinx later in her hideout. She is upset, convincing herself it wasn't Vi, talking to the specter of Mylo, justifying the incident that it was just her getting confused. then she says some key dialogue here:

"Now, he thinks I'm weak...I'm not weak... and I'm gonna show him. Oh, I'm gonna show him. You'll see".

And the explosion and theft are how she does so. How she proves to her adoptive father that she isn't weak. And it works! It gives her the validation she is desperate for. When he first comes in he is the most outwardly angry with her we ever see him on screen.

Until she shows him the stone:

Silco values strength above all. We see him espouse this over and over. Jinx has certainly heard it plenty although unless I'm mistaken we don't see him preaching it directly to her until later. She is worried he sees her as lacking the most important quality to him, so she goes out and proves it and now she feels accepted and safe again. Not to mention the fact that her early childhood trauma left a very real mental scar in her regarding feelings of being weak/not ready/a Jinx. I mean come on, it isn't exactly subtle that the specter we see tormenting her more prominently than any is this fucker (calling the delusion that not the dead child. Don't yell at me lol)-

She didn't do any of this for Zaun. She did it because part of her is still a little girl that's terrified if she isn't strong enough she is going to be all alone.

3. The Bridge:

Alright moving on. The next big one that gets mentioned frequently is Jinx attacking the bridge. Again, I can see the argument to a point. Killing the leader of The Enforcers and reclaiming the stone. Definite points for the "Zaunite Revolution". Except for a few things.

She is watching the bridge when Vi says goodbye to Caitlyn & Ekko. Mostly just arguing with "Mylo" about Vi.

2. She doesn't look angry until she sees the stone. The stone that symbolizes Silco's acceptance and recognition of her strength, and therefore his love.

3. She doesn't attack when she sees the stone. she doesn't attack when Marcus shoots Ekko. She is overwhelmed by her mental illness and attacks when Vi "leaves her" again, running back toward the bridge after the gunshot.

4. The symbol of Silco's love is in jeopardy, and she feels like Vi is leaving all over again. Once more she is a little girl facing the terrifying prospect of being all alone again and it's quite simply too much. Look how big Mylo is over her.

I mean this just isn't subtle. This was not the act of a freedom fighter assassinating an enemy. This was the act of a mentally ill young woman losing control and unleashing violence in an attempt to hold on to what she is terrified to lose.

4. Abducting Caitlyn:

Not much to say here but it is worth mentioning as it frequently gets filed under the "Jinx = Oppressed, Caitlyn = Oppressor, so Jinx abduct and possibly torture Caitlyn = Okeydokey Artichokey!" crowd. This didn't have a damn thing to do with Zaun. Because of Silco and Sevika's manipulations, Jinx's history with Enforcers, and Jinx's mental illness she viewed Caitlyn as the one keeping Vi from her and she acted out jealousy, fear and rage.

5. Attack On the Council:

Ok. This is in the big one that is probably the most hotly debated. By now we all know the context here. Jinx has abducted Silco, Vi and Caitlyn to host her dinner party. Silco is now dead, and in a moment of "accepting" who she is Jinx strikes at the Council of Piltover, unknowingly during the very moment they are ratifying Zaunite independence.

Silco's words echo over the strike while the hauntingly beautiful "what could have been" plays. It is truly a moving moment and all sarcasm or nastiness aside let me say that I do understand how people are interpreting this scene the way they are.

Jinx sits in the chair seemingly accepting herself as the daughter of Silco and inheritor of his legacy

Vi blames herself for creating jinx. The camera cuts to Vi multiple times during the song.

Jinx gives the whole "I thought you could love me like you used to" speech. Onece again just piling onto Vi and implying Jinx knows who she is now.

Jinx is clearly remorseful for shooting Silco and striking at his enemies would be a logically fitting way to respond

However, it is not that simple. Jinx is not making the first strike for her people in the wake of her adopted fathers death. She is a grieving, enraged, and yes mentally ill young woman in the middle of a breakdown lashing out at a symbol of pain and loss in her world.

I recently wrote a short sarcastic little blurb about this and that was my bad. This topic deserves more. But someone responded that I was implying Jinx was not capable making plans or decisions in that moment because of her mental illness. That is not what I mean. What I mean is that Jinx's heart and mind are an open ragged wound in this moment, and she lashes out at something that has always symbolized loss and pain and anger. Smashing it down into a first strike for freedom is not only illogical based on narrative evidence, but robs the moment of what Jinx is really going through.

"What Could Have Been":

This song narratively takes us into Jinx's pov as this moment plays out. It is beautiful, and haunting. The key however, as we are hearing Jinx's perspective play out, is to remember that her mind is not well.

We have been watching her unravel more and more since the beginning of S1 A2. Think back to when she and Vi first reunite. She is clearly ashamed of what she has done with Silco. Put that up against her shooting at Vi even one episode later on the bridge.

2. She is still extremely fresh from the Shimmer procedure that even though it saved her life was horrific and painful to the point it could have killed her.

3. She abducts Caitlyn nude from her bathroom and tells Vi she be Powder again if Vi will just murder Caitlyn.

4. She kills Silco in the middle of a breakdown

5. Quite frankly. The whole "dinner party" itself. There is not a damn thing in the world about her behavior or mental state at this time that suggests she is level or even. Her sudden calm after killing Silco isn't a patricide induced clarity. It is a breaking.

She is angry, she is grieving, she is ill and she is afraid. She feels that Vi cannot love her anymore because of who she is and she killed the only other person she had. So she lashes out. And in so-doing actually obliterates her peoples chance of independence.

Intent:

Now I have seen the argument made that it doesn't matter what her reasons or intent were. Because ultimately her actions served Zaun. Did they though?

Blowing up the building and killing six enforcers caused the bridge blockade Her attack on the bridge almost killed Caitlyn, which all personal character bias aside, if she had successfully caused the death of a council woman's daughter Piltover would have gone nuclear. She also almost killed Ekko successfully who was actually a champion for Zaunites. Her attack on the council opens the door for Ambessa and kicks off the events leading to Caitlyn's strike team and the occupation. The most obvious and one that should be taken with a grain of salt given the extenuating circumstances. But Jinx was a part of Silco's operations. Piltover's neglect and oppression may have allowed bad men to rise up and take control, but Silco was their chief. He flooded the lanes with Shimmer regardless of the harm and Jinx played a part in that.

SEASON 2

Alright, moving into season 2. This is where people were angry and feeling that the show was throwing away Jinx's revolutionary arc. But as I've stated it is my belief that is never where her story was going to begin with. So let's dig into some points I feel lend themselves to this point.

Aftermath of Jinx's attack:

What is she doing in the wake of her first strike? Leading battle planning sessions? Nope. Wandering the streets while Chem-Barons rip Zaun apart. Why? Because she wasn't firing the first strike. She was breaking down. And now she is all alone. Her adopted father gone, his organization failing, her sister lost to her.

Ventilation Chamber Battle:

Alright so I see this battle mentioned as well because Jinx and Sevika let The Grey loose in Piltover in retaliation. I wasn't sure if I should discuss this or not, since some people like to pretend Jinx never did this and I don't want to confuse them. But better to be thorough.

As I'm sure you know this is the battle when Vi & Caitlyn finally confront Jinx & Sevika down in the pipeworks of Zaun. They all engage in a massive and brutal brawl to some truly outstanding music, and in the end Sevika detonates a series of charges that send the Grey up into Piltover all over the city.

I have spoken AT LENGTH about the hyperbole and nonsense the fandom has engaged in when it comes to The Grey and Caitlyn. I can assure you I'm not going to magically assign it some ultra-lethal quality just because Jinx is now doing it.

"Jinx was acting in retaliation against their oppressors for Caitlyn's strike team poisoning Zaun's air!"-- You get the idea

The issue of course is that this was not some strategic retaliation in Jinx's rebellion. This was intended to be her suicide and end Vi as well. Jinx wants to die here.

Hard to lead a rebellion when you intend to die at your sisters hands. However I will give Jinx partial credit if that makes anyone feel better. She was at least retaliating against Piltover as well.

Becoming A Symbol:

Alright. This is where we get into Zaun trying to force her into this box as well. Let's do a very quick rundown of events leading up to the occupation of Zaun under Martial Law:

1. Caitlyn leaves Vi after the battle and becomes the commander 2. Caitlyn and Ambessa's forces hunt Jinx throughout Zaun, cannot locate her. Place Zaun under Martial Law until she is caught and try to get Zaunites to turn on her 3. Zaunites make Jinx their symbol of resistance. Their flag to rally behind. Even the spy Maddie says "we made them desperate for something to believe in".

And what has Jinx been doing the entire time?

Which by the way. AS. SHE. SHOULD. She finally found some fucking peace and happiness. But she was not in any fashion out throwing Molotovs and getting arrested. She did not become the symbol of the rebellion because she earned it. She became the symbol because she's the one they had when they need something to believe in. Even when she frees all those people from prison she only does so because she is trying to rescue Isha. And by the way the show is not subtle about what this means for her:

She and Isha are living happily-

When Sevika comes in angry and slamming things and demanding Jinx consider what Silco sacrificed (aside from Jinx's second family of course) Jinx starts glitching and yells.

2. Jinx tearfully admits to Silco's chair she doesn't want to mess up what she has with Isha

3. When Isha is taken and Jinx has no choice but to rejoin the fight, the show is quite clear about the tone it sets for Jinx.

Pop Quiz class, does it seem like they are implying its a good thing?

Side Note:

Jinx has too many barbs, comments, taunts and so on to name regarding her feelings for Piltover. I didn't include them because… duh? She hates Piltover and she hates Enforcers. Again. That is not the same as being a revolutionary. Not to mention at the least in the context of her talking shit to Vi for putting on the badge, it should be noted that all you usually have to do is go a few words in either direction or consider the actual context and her clever jabs at her sister lose some of their luster.

"I busted half of Zaun out of prison while you were passed out in the bottom of a mug" INITIATING TRANSLATION FROM JINX-SPEAK TO REALITY….. "While you were in a self-destructive spiral that was probably going to kill you and caused among other things by my actions as well, I was chilling with Isha during the entire occupation until she went full feral gremlin and got arrested. I freed the others while I was there to get her also"

And that isn't hating on Jinx by the way. But people like to use all her clever little comments to really sell this whole image of her character and justify screaming about her not leading the massacre of Piltover or something at the end so it seemed worth mentioning.

Conclusion

So. When it is all said and done, why even touch on this? Because I think people so stuck on wanting her to be a revolutionary for Zaun are missing the point. Sure her feelings were there, but the actions she took were never for Zaun's freedom. That isn't her story, just like it isn't Vi's. People watched this show expecting everyone to follow traditional heroic journeys. But not every character is meant to become the leader on the throne. Sometimes, they are the long suffering victim of a system that doesn't really care about them, and although they can fight for and defend their people, their greatest victory is getting to live for themselves and their loved ones in peace.

Think about "Silco's" final speech to Jinx: Break free from these labels and restrictions. These "prisons". Walk away from the cycle because otherwise it will. not. stop. Like most of you I'm sure, I wanted to see Jinx and Vi together as sisters at the end of the show. And I have seen SO. MANY. comments saying it's bullshit that Jinx had to go off on her own so Vi could have a happy ending but these people are seriously missing the point.

Jinx not only gave Vi a chance at a happy ending, but she set off to find her own. She was never going to find peace in Piltover where no matter the circumstances, there were very real people living with the aftermath of her crimes. And she was never going to escape the shadow of Silco returning to Zaun, either being held to account for her part in his crimes or expected to lead their people. And that is to say nothing of the memories of everything she'd lost haunting every corner of Zaun.

I understand if her story wasn't what you wanted. We all had our own preferences and ideas and theories for how things were going to go. But by trying to force Jinx's narrative into a certain box and being angry at the parts that don't fit, you miss out on the story we were given.

A tortured but loving young woman who reclaims her soul, and sets off into the unknown to find her peace. Fulfilling the dream of a bright and inquisitive little girl who dreamed of better days.

*** Yall Tumblr had a seizure right at the finish line and the formatting got all messed up and I wasn't really able to fix it completely. Sorry if this looks weird***

[andrewminyardslawyer]

The Golden Raven predictions/a few wishful thinking

Last time I got all of them correct so we'll see how this goes! Sorry for the length, there was a lot more detail and explanations this time around lmao I've posted some of these separately and will probably add more after my reread 🤷‍♂️

- Andrew and Neil go with Kevin to Cali. To keep up the childhood friend pretence, and Kevin can't go alone. Andrew talks to Jean about Bee, that she is trustworthy. Nothing extreme but like "talk to Bee" and nothing else but Jean understands (I actually doubt this is going to happen but I think if anyone's going to convince Jean it's okay to talk to her it would be Andrew based off of Jean's thoughts from TSC). I want Wymack there but I don't think he will be with practice already started for the year and the new foxes there. A potential Kevin and Renee combo because Jean needs support and Kevin can't go alone but Andrew and Neil need to stay with the team. Either way Kevin will have someone with him, he won't be able to travel alone

- Kevin and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Talks to Jeremy more about the nest and we get more information on what Riko did to Kevin

- I hope the interview is not live or recorded, it needs to be an article and I want it to be done by Renee's mom even though I have no idea what kind of reporter she is. She would be the kindest option but I don't think we're in for a kind interview. I don't think it'll be completely disastrous though. Kevin knows what he's doing, he's going all the way to Cali specifically to support Jean, the interview is to control the rumors, I don't think it will crash and burn. The Kevin Jean conversation before/after however...

- someone on the team tries joking around with Jean and does something to trigger a panic attack, like splashing him with water or something

- Jean and Shane become friends. Shane is a little chaotic (he's a goalie, comes with the territory) and gets Jean to start changing how he thinks about things, he can relax a little and have fun

- Jean baby please seriously talk to Bee

- Jean crying. Please I need him to let it out!!!

- interesting to me that Jeremy's parents make him stay at the house during the week but he's free on the weekends and during the summer. Wondering if he was missing classes and he has to stay there so they make sure he goes

- mysterious potentially dead sibling is his stepfather's biologically?

- Thanksgiving break. Cat and Laila go to one of their families, leaving Jean and Jeremy alone at the house. Jeremy is required to attend Thanksgiving dinner and Jean is invited so he's not alone and Jeremy's step dad/grandfather wants to "get to know the new teammate"

- Annalise using the term investment for Jean seems like....a Choice. Pair that with Jeremy's meticulous tracking of money and his family restricting how much he gets, it seems like Jeremy has been irresponsible with money in the past

- Jeremy family event obligation. It was mentioned that if "If the Con-gressman needed a picture-perfect family for photo ops, the Knox family was duty-bound to dress up and smile bright for an exhausting number of cameras" (congressman is his step grandfather)

- "but there's bound to be a jerk or two once you pass four kids." Once you PASS for kids. Jeremy has more than Bryson, Annalise, and one mysterious probably dead other sibling. Potentially none dead and just cut contact? Maybe took sides with Jeremy's bio dad

- Jean's parents contact him some how but honestly I think if that's going to happen it will be in the third book. I feel like that part of the story won't really start rolling until then, like publicly.

- a scene with Jeremy talking to his therapist

- I feel like Jeremy's mom didn't marry his stepfather until recentlyish. Like the thing that "tore their family apart" was their parents divorcing after whatever went down Jeremy's freshman year. Or maybe they were divorced before that but still on speaking terms and the Event changed that.

- we find out what Jeremy's stepdad actually does. We know his step grandfather is a congressman but no information about his stepdad

- more of a personal wish but I don't want Jean to drink alcohol, like ever. I want him to learn how to work through things without it, I want him to avoid it because he doesn't want to become dependent on it, doesn't want to risk it

- Jean is average at pottery at first and that frustrates him that he isn't perfect at it immediately but it helps him learn that it's ok to not be good at everything or that slow progress is more sustainable

- depending on the timeline, Jean birthday. One of the team asks him when it is and they make a thing out of it on the day. Or no one knows but the coaches have it marked and one wishes him happy birthday during practice and the team, mainly the main trio/floozies, are like why didn't you tell us ☹️ and get him a few small things

- more Elodie conversations. The trio finds out

- find out what happen with Zane and Grayson but it's because Zane gets in touch with Jean after Grayson dies and they have some sort of discussion about it

- i've seen a million theories about Jeremy's backstory but none really bring his father into it and I think we need to focus on that a little bit more. Jeremy says he doesn't like people calling him by his last name, Knox, which must be his biological fathers last name because his stepdad's name is Wilshire. And he says ' "I've never been to Europe. Dad's been stationed there a couple times, but.." He shrugged and didn't bother to elaborate.' My immediate thought was military but with his mom remarrying a man whose father is a congressman makes me think Jeremy's dad might be more in that type of work than military because how else would she be in the same sphere as a congressman's son. Maybe high level military. Anyway! Jeremy doesn't want to use his father's last name either so something definitely happened with him as well. Whether it's two different things or all the same as the "scandal" Jeremy's first year. I don't really have a set theory about it but I do think he is involved in some way