#i figured act 1 or could be act 2??

[bladewarde]

❝ unhand me ! i do not need your help. ❞ / @moonache

Shadowheart's voice cuts through Laera's determination; the cleric's arm wrenched from her gloved hand and for a moment, they stand off against each other. Swivin' clerics… The thought passes through a torrent of other curses, practical strategies and behind both, an increasing swell of anger. Her scarred brow twitches as the fighter heaves a quiet breath. The silence stretches on longer than what would be deemed comfortable, and she wonders if they're about to come to blows. While knocking some sense into Shadowheart would be welcome, it would only add more difficulties to their already dire situation.

❝ Aren't you supposed to be the pragmatic one, Shadowheart?! You aren't acting like it. ❞ Laera questions, her voicing raising to meet her companion's. ❝ Insisting you can go it alone because your faith in us is wavering; it's reckless, and it will get you killed. ❞ She can feel the heat crawl through and up her breastplate, the back of her neck beginning to sweat. ❝ So, is that what you want? Do you really 'ave a death wish? ❞

[rosifire]

Obligatory “I don’t have a problem with CaitVi” but I think, for me, their story (separate from their own personal character arcs) would/will be more compelling if it ends up being irreparable between them.

I think Arcane is good at subverting expectations and tropes; the most memorable example I can think of is in S1E3 where Powder follows after Vi and the boys to save Vander. We’ve all seen the “friends are in trouble, but the plucky young hero comes in at the nick of time to save them against all odds” plot twist—but Arcane subverts that. In fact, Powder’s involvement and her monkey bomb finally working is the thing that, tragically, leads to Claggor and Mylo’s death, Vi’s injury, Vander’s death(?), so on and so forth. It worked, but it didn’t work. And to me, that's the tragedy of it. That good intentions weren't enough.

So, personally, I see a setup between Caitlyn and Vi: the Romeo and Juliet archetype, two initially-begrudging people working together amongst classism and prejudice, and finding companionship against all odds. Class, wealth, opportunity separates them; Caitlyn is a scion of one of Piltover’s most influential and powerful families, and Vi is… a nobody from the Undercity, wrongfully imprisoned, when they first meet. It’s a way for them to both see that the “other side” isn’t as bad as they’ve always been told. That there are Good People on either side of the bridge. That, hell, love can be found, too.

But oftentimes, I believe this trope in particular ignores a lot of the real-world factors that could come into play with a friendship or relationship that “defies” station. The fact is, Caitlyn does come from a world of privilege, and Vi is treated differently by Caitlyn’s peers. The whole of Season two, Vi has been referred to as one of the “good ones”. Maddie explicitly says that it's good to know that there are still "good ones" around. The implication that you’re not like them. Time and time again, Vi is treated like an Other. A “good” other, but an other all the same. She's welcome in Piltover, but only just - and only when Caitlyn vouches for her. And at the climax of their story thus far, Caitlyn outright says to her, “I keep telling myself that you're different. but you're not. It's [Jinx's] blood in your veins”. I'm sure grief and anger are a part of why she says this, but that's becoming a catalyst for the discrimination she seems to be steadily believing in more and more. Whether or not she ends up meaning this, it's a ghastly thing to say.

And with the way things are developing with Caitlyn, who is actively weaponizing her privilege and power, and who is very quickly going down a very dangerous and fascist path, I don’t know if their relationship could — or should! — be rectified. She's a cop, and a very privileged one at that. I don’t know if this is a love that could “defy all odds”, and in my opinion, I think it would be more interesting, and more compelling, if it didn’t.

[enchantrum]

Secrets of the Obscure is alright and all but am I the only one kinda miffed that they ripped off a lot of it from Dragon Age: Inquisition and didn't really add or change enough to be it's own unique thing?

even the rift hunting mechanic is Exactly The Same, because you Open the rift, then fight something then close it. the animation is almost 1-1 and even the eye in the rift looks like the Inquisition eye. if it wasn't for the fact that Even The Mechanic is the same I might not have noticed it so much, but the more I play the more blatant it feels

and then their wizard lore also just feels like how demons come out of the Fade in Dragon Age to possess mages. it's almost exact

disclaimer that I'm still enjoying it because it's fun and I like that we get to see Zojja again and have a better map for practicing skyscales for those who don't have one yet, but uh...this whole plot was stolen!

and yes I know there are certain fantasy tropes that re-occur in fantasy over and over, but this doesn't feel like that. it feels like the writers legit just snapped the base ideas from DAI and then barely added or changed anything to make it uniquely Guild Wars

imo it's definitely the weakest of all the packs

which is a shame because I LOVEDDDDD the intro. the whole sequence of having to defend yourself and run for your life was so ridiculously tense, I really felt like I was playing a horror game

but now I'm on Ep. 7 and all the potential feels wasted because I feel like I'm playing the underwritten fanfiction of another game that I already played 10 years ago and didn't like that much the first time

[todayisafridaynight]

We rlly don’t need another majima game 😭 please give other characters a chance he already had the spotlight in 0😔

lord if i speak on goro majima.

[clowndensation]

do think it's funny that the current roman theories all have to do with him literally fucking people. like i'm not saying it's not possible, the show can do whatever it wants and i trust it'll make sense. but. while there is something oedipally intriguing about the idea of roman replacing his father with another man and then literally fucking him, that doesn't... sound all that likely?

in the wake of "smart people know what they are" it makes significantly more sense to me that he's going to fuck over matsson (who's attempting to buy his father's legacy, and so, his corpse (the company + atn)) and get in deep with mencken as an ally (because the last good conversation he had with his dad was him telling roman that atn and mencken are where roman belongs), and the show is going to continue on it's very consistent path of making all relationships psychologically entangled to a fucked up degree, with no true physical release for anybody.

like. in a show where fucking someone has almost never been literal, i genuinely don't see why they'd stray from the metaphorical now.

[trans-yllz]

when ursa died a few weeks ago I had to put her in a plastic bag in the freezer for a Day until I was able to bury her at a friend's house and my housemate just sent me this text??? like. not really sure what the wants me to do? keeping a dead animal just in my room could attract flies, which she would also get upset about, and no one is going to be on call to have me bury a pet in their yard day of, especially if I discover at night like I did with ursa. like it would be unreasonable for me to demand one of my friends let me bury my pet in their yard with less than a days notice so why is it reasonable for her to ask that I come up with a magical solution that I can employ day of in every scenario? I can understand not wanting a dead animal in the freezer but also there's this thing called compassion and understanding thats generally appreciated. it's not like she's coming up with alternate solutions either lmao. also, sort of fucked up to ask this two days after she knows I brought one of my rats to the vet. like can you at least wait a week or something before implying that my sick rat w a very treatable illness is actually going to die soon? like is she being as insensitive as I think she is or am I just being unfairly irritated about this

[capinejghafa]

Colleges, friends, Romans... I think I've read enough contemporary romance novels for the summer. Here ends my night (afternoon).

If you see me reading another contemporary romance, no you didn't.

[marblerose-rue]

Could you draw Halsin as a warrior cat? I've been kinda craving that bear as a cat

YEAHH for sure!! starting now! ^_^

meant to draw the origin characters as warrior cats but then i never did AJHNDFGHB so maybe this'll start something

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 13: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should just start crying whilst being robbed in the abandoned barn ...

~

(----- tw for mild violence (he gets into sort of a fight) until after the next orange text section in parentheses -----)

Not sure what else to even do, The Adventurer simply collapses into a ball on the floor and starts sobbing, screaming, and rolling about. The hooded figure pauses in confusion at first, but.. apparently is not very sympathetic to his plight.

They rush over, grappling with him as he cries, fighting to pry the backpack out of his hands. The Adventurer continues screeching frantically, and during some of his flailing accidentally swings his arm up, elbowing the hooded figure in the face. They let out an exasperated sigh, knocking him against the wall then firmly yanking him up by the hair, securing their arm around his throat to restrain him as they grab for the backpack. He kicks a few times, struggling, clawing at the hooded figure's arms, but just isn't strong enough to free himself.. There's a thwack and a sudden sharpness in the side of his head, the backpack pulling away from his shoulders, cold ground, and then… nothing at all..…

(------------------- mild violence tw over -----------------) ...............

The Adventurer slowly opens his eyes to a quiet foggy morning.. Tiny particles in the dusty barn air gently flutter to and fro, dancing around in the streams of early sunlight trickling through the slight crack of the front doors. With a groan, he rolls over, suddenly feeling every ache in his body. His head, his wrist, his leg injury from crashing the raft.. He spends a while just laying on his back, watching the dust and gazing hopelessly at the moldy boards of the roof, mustering the strength to sit upright… What can he even do next? He's failed.. His first EVER actual quest of his adventuring career, and he can't even keep a stupid egg safe for more than a few days! What type of adventurer is that?? Maybe he should just give up.. Go back home and do nothing with his life, just as he was meant to... He sighs, turning back onto his side and curling into a ball to sulk even more dramatically. The cat trots over to him to interrupt his swirling thoughts, pawing at his face, then directing him towards a small stack of hay in the corner where... there it is! His backpack!! He scrambles over, immediately digging through to check for his belongings.. To his surprise, everything it still in it's place. His food, his money, all of the cool shiny rocks he's collected so far.. And tucked away in the very bottom, the Mysterious Egg box remains, completely undamaged.. somehow with the egg still inside! And... a note? He shakily unfolds a crisp sheet of pale yellow paper dotted with a few scribbly letters: "I took care of her for you. Be more careful next time. Just get where you have to go."

Well...... He supposes that if there's apparently going to be weirdos following him around anyway, maybe he's lucky at least one of them seems nice. Better than trying to ROB him, at least.. Even if it is a bit creepy. He realizes now that his injuries have been bandaged as well, and that when he woke up, he was wrapped in a blanket, and.. where is the hooded figure? What does the stranger mean that they "took care" of her?? He turns to the cat for answers, as if they'd be able to clear up his confusions, but they simply make a "mrrp!" noise and stare blankly in response. Figuring that it's all far too much to think about first thing in the morning (especially with the headache that he has), he just decides to be thankful he at least still has the egg, and thus can continue on his grand adventure!! He will NOT let himself fail again! Sore and limping but full of renewed motivation, he leaps up (at least as best he can) and continues back onto the road. After walking only a few hours, he comes to a clearing at the top of a large hill, overlooking the next stop on his journey (then double checks the map just to make sure it actually IS the next stop). This is a much bigger area than the previous villages he's been to, possibly large enough to even count as a small city. With a wider variation of shops and attractions available to him than usual, he wonders if he should just take a break and relax the rest of the day.

He's too tired to walk much today anyway, soo.. maybe it'd be good for him to spend some time in a safe public space, doing something to help take his mind off of this morning's drama… But, what should he do?

-

-

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[highraccoon]

when you explain that you're looking for compassion and believing in the best in each other in a relationship and that you felt it was inappropriate to bring up how someone else's issues (they are unrelated to the problem) were worse and more valid than yours and that you have no right to be upset because you're the villain for things that they misunderstood you doing or just did themselves and blamed you for. they also accuse you of being codependent with your needs. so you try to repeat yourself on your expectations and boundaries in friendships (i will accept no less than someone at least putting in the effort or having the desire to have a healthy friendship) and that there was so much she did that i never asked for nor wanted but i accepted it because i didn't want to seem ungrateful so whatever codependency she felt we had must have been one sided because i explicitly remembered that i never made her responsible for my mental well-being, i did not actually like that she treated me like a child and i had been complaining about that for years in our friendship especially near the end of it. i was an adult and didn't appreciate being treated like a child. but i went along with it because i was willing to let her get away with it if that's what she felt she needed from our friendship. so i sent her a basic infographic about healthy relationships and how they work and noted that the things i had asked for were just basic healthy relationship things and that i have never at any point in our friendship wanted her to take care of me. i wanted us to be equals. she told me that she wasn't willing to put in that amount of effort for anyone and how her boyfriend is her family and her life and her purpose and how friends just weren't really a priority at all and they certainly never got close to the level of importance as her romantic relationship. like... she literally disagreed with treating people with basic respect because friendship wasn't worth that effort. so i told her i hope she heals that wound in her heart and that she can eventually move on from whatever caused it but that i refused to settle for less than a healthy friendship just because she doesn't know how to love anyone fully or put aside her pride. that i genuinely hope she heals and has a good life but to never contact me again because i don't care to see it. that whatever is going on with her that she's been running away from isn't my problem for her to project onto me. she doesn't get to assume my intentions or thoughts or feelings about anything when she never asked me once. but fine, she has every right to think whatever she wants about me regardless of how true it is because I'm not responsible for her feelings, especially not now and i would genuinely appreciate it if she never spoke to me again.

people in the thick of amanormativity who haven't deconstructed relationships with others who are strict monogamists are so fucking exhausting.

[neverheardnothing]

took a dangerous day trip 😱

[mostly-imagines]

So This Is Love

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.

You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.

But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.

You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.

“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.

“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.

You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.

He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.

You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 

“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 

“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 

“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”

All he can do is nod.

You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.

“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.

“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”

He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.

The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.

But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.

There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 

He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 

He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”

“No, I do not.” 

But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.

The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.

His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.

“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.

You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”

He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”

You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.

“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 

“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 

You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  

“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.

In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”

“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.

You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”

Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”

You turn your head towards him, “No?”

He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 

“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”

His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.

You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    

“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.

He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.

You laugh, “Really?”

He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”

“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.

“In my shirt.” He confirms.

You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 

“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”

You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”

He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.

You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.

You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.

He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.

“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.

“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 

“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.

He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”

He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 

“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 

He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.

He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”

You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 

But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 

He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   

Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.

Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   

Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.

This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 

You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.

It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 

You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.

“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.

You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”

He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”

You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”

He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  

You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”

“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.

“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  

“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.

You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    

Jason didn’t get it at first.

Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.

Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.

Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.

It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.

You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.

You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.

You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.

His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.

“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.

He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.

“What was that?”

You look at him, “He dropped his books.”

“Yeah, I saw. But why—”

His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”

You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.

A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.

He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.

“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.

Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”

The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.

He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.

He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.

It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.

“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.

He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.

He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.

He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.

Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?

Do you?

There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.

He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”

The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.

You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

[confused-wanderer]

The villains are utterly confused.

They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.

The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.

But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:

The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.

SCENE 1

Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.

Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..

Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?

Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*

Red Hood:

Two-Face:

Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?

Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!

Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?

Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?

Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?

Two-Face:

Goon 1: I mean.. yeah

Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!

Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??

Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.

Red Hood:

Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones

Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-

SCENE 2

Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!

Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!

Nightwing: .. robin?

Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?

Nightwing:

Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after

Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.

Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.

Nightwing:

Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 1)

pt 2

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don’t go as you imagine.

a/n: wicked was really good, i love jonathan bailey, and we're coming up on finals season which means im writing about how stressed i am. also halfway through this i realized reader is lowkey paris geller coded lmao. this got away from me so im splitting it into 2 parts, i had a lot of fun writing it so enjoy! also im high posting this so if there's any editing issues im sorry lol!!

wc: 5.5k

warning(s): reader is stressed to the max constantly. she is kinda mean to fiyero but he's into it so it's okay. mostly fluff

Your fingers were beginning to cramp. 

You should have been used to this by now with Doctor Dillamond. You’d been in his class for a few months now, and you graded essays for him often. He often had a propensity for verbosity, but this lecture had been an especially hefty one in preparation for your midterm projects.

He would be announcing partners before the end of class—much to your dismay, for you worked far better on your own than with others holding you down—and you figured you would want to have as much of a head start as possible. 

Great Oz, how you hoped you would be paired with one of your friends. Coralie and Ezura were your only contenders for top of the class—Elphaba had potential as well, not because of the magic she couldn’t control but because of the brain she very well could—and anyone else would frankly slow you down. Doing a large research paper with someone who didn’t care as much as you did would be a drag you didn’t care to go through. 

Midterms were only the most important thing, for they set the track towards finals and affirmed your skill with your assignments, and your first midterm was potentially the most important thing for, when completed successfully, set you on the correct track altogether. 

You tried not to think about it too much (though you failed almost immediately), for you were sure Doctor Dillamond would honor all the work you’d done for him by putting you with a suitable partner. 

“I see some of you are getting restless, so I will cut class short today.” Your eyes snapped up from your paper to see the professor smiling, and you could hear sighs of relief around the room. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know your partners for the midterm paper.” 

The sighs of relief turned to groans, and you had to agree. Assigned partners should have been considered archaic at this point in time. 

Doctor Dillamond trotted back to the projector and, with a bit of difficulty, replaced the image with a piece of paper. Everybody in the class was paired off in groups of two—you immediately started searching for your name, squinting slightly to see despite your spot in the front, and the furrow between your brows deepened when you realized you couldn’t find it. 

You searched instead for your hopeful options. Coralie was with Mayara, Ezura was with Nicholas, Elphaba was with Galinda—of course. You let out a slight huff of annoyance, not just at your disappointment but at the continued lack of your name. 

Perhaps he’d merely forgotten. You didn’t know how Dillamond could have forgotten you, seeing as you were only his best student and literal TA, but things happened. Your anxieties only grew as you heard the beginnings of whispers throughout the room as your classmates saw their pairings, either excited or dismal. 

“Class is dismissed,” Doctor Dillamond said. The room began bustling as students gathered their things, already talking with their friends or searching out their project partner—you heard Galinda squeal and saw her grab Elphaba’s hands out of your peripherals. You could only worry your lip between your teeth as you swept everything in your bag, hardly waiting a second before rushing up to Dillamond’s desk. 

“You didn’t call my name, professor,” you said, managing a smile as you tried to act like it wasn’t killing you. How could he have not called your name? Was there something wrong? Great Oz— had you been somehow moved out of the class? Was your work not exemplary enough? Your assistance not assisting enough? “I don’t have a partner.” 

His mouth opened, but you only found yourself continuing, the words practically tumbling out of you.  

“Of course, if you intended for me to be on my own then I am perfectly alright with that!” Your smile widened as your fingertips dangled over his desk. “I— I prefer it, in fact, so if that is it then there is really no issue at all—”

“Mr. Tigelaar!” he interrupted, and your head turned on instinct to see the eponymous boy arm in arm with Galinda (who was arm in arm with Elphaba) just in front of the door. “I hope you are not about to leave.”

Fiyero flashed a look at his companions before offering one of those easy smiles he seemed to always have up his sleeve. “You dismissed the class. I believe I am part of your class, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, “but you were not assigned a partner. Surely you wouldn’t be trying to get out of the project.”

Your free hand clenched as the threads started to connect. Doctor Dillamond wouldn’t do this to you. Would he?

That easy smile remained on his lips as he turned to Galinda and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before she walked out, pulling Elphaba behind her, and Fiyero sauntered over. 

“Of course I’m not trying to get out of it,” he said. “Whyever would you think so?”

“Your attempt at a quick exit before you could be assigned a partner,” the professor said. “But it is no matter, for your partner is right here.”

You blinked. He would do this to you.

Why would he do this to you?

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Fiyero Tigelaar.”

You ignored him, for you couldn’t look away from Doctor Dillamond. Would it be mad for you to strangle a Goat?

“Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why?”

“Mr. Tigelaar’s grades in my class have not been satisfactory, as I’m sure he is aware.” Dillamond moved away from his desk, prodding the chalkboard with his head to move it out of the way. “I care about all my students, even if they seem not to care for my course. I believe a partnership for the two of you would be beneficial.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re forcing me to tutor him because he hasn’t got a brain.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Not tutoring, just working on your midterm together,” he said. “And if you end up teaching him a few things along the way, then we would all be better off, wouldn’t we?” 

“Professor, with all due respect, this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Why should I have to risk my grade, my midterm, my standing altogether at Shiz just to help him?” 

“Should you perform the way that is typical of you, there should be no issues.” Doctor Dillamond gave you that professorly look and your teeth grinded against each other. How dare he try to take the moral high ground. “Now, the two of you better hurry off. You haven’t got forever to work on this project.” 

“Professor,” you whispered, determined to not let up, “why are you punishing me like this?”

“I’m not punishing you, my dear.”

“Fiyero couldn’t care less about any of this,” you insisted. “I’m going to fail my midterm and it will be all his fault!”

“If you believe he can make you fail, then you haven’t got as much faith in yourself as I believed.” Doctor Dillamond looked at you. “Trust me—and yourself—that this will all work out.”

You stared back—it was rather difficult to have a staring contest with a Goat. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“You’d be correct.”

You huffed and glanced away. “Fine. But expect those test scores to take an extra day.”

He let out a bleaty sort of laugh while you walked away. You considered it a credit to yourself that you held back the childish tantrum you wanted to throw as you moved back over to your desk to gather the rest of your things. You shoved your books into your bag with a bit more anger than necessary, and you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over to see Fiyero sidled up beside you, leaning against the desk next to yours. 

“Surely you won’t be this irritated at me the entirety of our project.” He still had that unbothered smile on his lips, and it made you want to hit him. “It might make this a much more miserable partnership.”

You let out a mirthless laugh as you shouldered your bag. “Don’t act like this pains you. You’re just going to ride my coattails the entire time.” 

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Fiyero mused. “But now that you bring it up, I just may have to.” 

“For the love of Oz,” you muttered to yourself before mustering the strength to look up at him. “I have a myriad of things I need to do today. Why don’t you go bother your girlfriend for the rest of the day, and then you can meet me at the library first thing tomorrow morning so we can discuss all of this.” 

He shrugged. “Sounds alright to me.” 

“Good,” you said. “Because I meant every word I said back there. I will not have you ruining all my progress thus far because of your absolute refusal to think.” 

“It looks as if you could take a page out of my book,” Fiyero said. “You seem awfully stressed.” 

Your lips tightened into a mirthless smile. “I’m stressed because of you, Fiyero, and we have hardly even interacted. I dread to think of my mental state after a week of working together. Now, good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You swept past him and walked out of Doctor Dillamond’s classroom. You felt his eyes on you until you turned the corner, and you had to resist the urge to look back. 

Oh, how you loathed group projects. 

-

The rest of your day was far more demanderating than it should have been, and you blamed Fiyero for it. You swore the clock went by half as quick and your lectures twice as long—it didn’t help that you were so distracted in chemistry that you nearly burned your eyebrows off from a potion gone wrong. 

You’d practically thrown yourself onto your bed when you got back to your dorm, and you didn’t get up until your roommate got back and demanded to know what had gotten into you. She didn’t exactly give you the response you wanted. 

“The prince is your partner?” Coralie sighed dreamily. “Oh, you are so lucky.” 

“Lucky is not the way I’d put it,” you mumbled, words muffled by the sheets. You finally tore yourself up off your bed and picked your nightgown up from atop your dresser. You went behind your folding sheet and began to change. “And I didn’t know you had eyes for Fiyero.” 

“I hardly have eyes for him,” she said wryly. “I just have eyes—anyone can see that he’s attractive.” 

“It doesn’t matter how attractive he is if he makes me fail this midterm,” you said. You straightened your nightgown then folded your school uniform while you walked back into the open, passing a glance at your roommate as you placed it on your desk. You then settled on your bed with a huff. “I just don’t understand why Doctor Dillamond is punishing me like this. It makes me reconsider all those late nights spent grading papers for him.” 

Coralie shrugged. “You’re one of his best students, Fiyero is probably one of his worst. I bet Doctor Dillamond figured you would be happy to take him on, what with how happily you take on everything else he throws at you.” 

You grumbled as you laid back against your pillows. “I just don’t know if I can take him on. Fiyero seems to care more about flirting with every student at this school than any actual material.” 

She gave you a mischievous smile. “Maybe he’ll turn the full force of his affections on you in return for your studiousness. Oh, how that would be a sight to see.” 

“Don’t even put that idea into the air, Cora,” you scoffed. “Besides, he’s clearly involved with Galinda. Even if I was interested, which I’m not—” you emphasized with a pointed look at her— “that isn’t something I want to touch.” 

“Well, you can’t deny that he’s dreamy,” she said. “He just showed up at Shiz and people started falling left and right. It’s more impressive that you haven’t.” 

“Because I’m here for one reason,” you said. “His whole… thing doesn’t fit into any of it.” 

“I know,” Coralie mused as she fell back onto her pillows. “You’ve told me your whole plan ten times over. I just think you should also try to enjoy your life instead of bulldozing your way through it.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’m enjoying my life just fine, thank you.” 

Interestingly enough, Fiyero was going through something similar a myriad of rooms away. 

He laid on Galinda’s bed, his head in her lap as she trailed her fingers through his hair. She’d been going on about something for the last couple of minutes, but he hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it. 

“Dearest, did you not hear what I said?” 

Fiyero blinked at the sound of Galinda’s voice. He hadn’t indeed. 

“I’m sorry, beloved.” He absentmindedly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze once he found it. “I was thinking.” 

Elphaba laughed from across the room. She sat on her bed with a book in her lap. “That’s a first for you.” 

“It is,” Galinda said, though with much more concern laced in her voice. Her hand moved from his hair to his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just fine,” he assured. “What was it you were saying?” 

“Just lamenting on how awful it is that we’ve been separated for this project,” she sighed. “I’m sure I could persuade Doctor Dillamond to put us in a group of three.”

“You can’t even get him to pronounce your name correctly,” Elphaba said wryly. “How could you get him to do this?” 

“Well,” Galinda huffed, “maybe you could do it. He appears to like you more than me.” 

“I’m sure that really hurts,” she said. 

Galinda placed her hand on her chest. “It does!” 

“It’s fine,” Fiyero interrupted. “I’m alright with my partner. She’s nice.” 

“Nice?” Elphaba scoffed. “I heard her lecturing you the whole time we were out in the hallway.” 

“She’s passionate,” he decided. “Besides, I don’t really care. I haven’t thought about it since she left.” 

That was a complete lie. In truth, Fiyero hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left. Very strange for someone who preferred to go through life with less thinking and more doing. 

He honestly didn’t know why his mind was so occupied with you. 

He’d always been aware of you, obviously—all your professors adored you, your name was always brought up when talking about top of the class, and he was sure you held the record for most time spent in the library at once—but he didn’t know anything about you other than your academic record. And for someone with such strong opinions, especially about him, Fiyero found himself with the strange need to know more. 

He would be at the library tomorrow. Maybe not on time, but certainly there. 

Fiyero would make this the beginning of a beautiful partnership, one way or another.

-

True to your word, you were in the library bright and early after a quick stop at the dining hall. You went through the effort of gathering everything you thought you would need—a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, your well-weathered notebook and another one for Fiyero because you doubted he had one, and enough writing material for the two of you.

You sighed. You had to do so much just to even the ground between your groups and the others. Coralie was always so prepared whenever you worked together. 

Fiyero, to your surprise, was only ten minutes late. You already had your head buried in a book when he said your name and scared you witless. 

Your eyes widened as they darted up to look at him, and he chuckled. 

“Sorry. You were in the zone.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you said. “You’re late.”

“Hardly.” Fiyero took the seat across from you, his eyes sweeping over everything you had on the table. “You’ve got quite a collection.”

“I doubt you know your way around the library,” you said. 

“I know my way around a lot of things.” 

You leveled your gaze at him. Leave it to Fiyero to make everything an innuendo. “And is a library one of them?”

“I’m sure I could make it one.”

“If you bothered to think at all.”

“Darling, you know I’d never,” he said with a smile. “Now, what are we doing here?”

“Do you really not know what our midterm is?” you marveled. 

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said. 

You scoffed and shook your head. Ridiculous— it was ridiculous that you had to put up with this. Maybe Doctor Dillamond really did hate you.

“Our assignment is an extensively researched ten page paper on any great Ozian,” you said. “Anyone who has contributed to our society in a relevant way and made our lives better for it.”

“A ten page paper?” Fiyero frowned. “That seems a bit much.”

“Between the two of us, it’s just five pages each, and we’ve got two weeks to get it done,” you said. “I’ve written five pages in a few hours of inspiration.”

“Your life truly sounds thrilling,” Fiyero said. “We could do the Wizard.”

“Half the class is going to do the wizard,” you scoffed. 

“Because he’s a great man,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

“There is absolutely shame in copying half the class,” you said as you pushed over a sheet of paper to him. “Now, I’ve already got a list going. Look it over; see if there’s anyone you like or anyone worthwhile you want to add.”

You looked back down at your encyclopedia, opened to your personal favorite choice, and continued scribbling down basic notes. You glanced up a few moments later to see Fiyero’s gaze hadn’t wavered from you. 

You frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re awfully prepared,” he said instead. 

“I figured you wouldn’t be,” you responded.

Fiyero’s lips quirked in a smile. “Then I believe that means you deserve to choose our subject.”

Your frown deepened. “Really?”

“Are you always this suspicious of everyone?”

“Just you.”

“Then consider this an olive branch,” he said. He slid the paper back over. “Who’s your top choice?”

“…Ilara Mayfair,” you finally said as you pointed at her on the top of your list. “She was a historical linguist, responsible for half of what we know about Ozian languages and how they connect and differ. She’s…” you cleared your throat and shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, “she’s kind of my hero.”

“Your hero?” Fiyero’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want to do?” 

“…It’s always been my dream,” you admitted. “I grew up helping around my parents’ bookstore and her mark was on nearly everything. I really admire it. I want to make that sort of difference in the world.”

“How noble,” he remarked. What surprised you was how genuine he sounded. “It’s impressive how much of your life you have planned out already. All Galinda knows is that she’s majoring in sorcery—she hasn’t really got anything else worked out.”

“What are you majoring in?” you asked.

“Undecided,” Fiyero said. “I was kicked out of my last school before I could declare, so I figure there’s not really a point in doing it here.”

“Not really a surprise,” you said. 

“Really?”

“On your first day, you snuck off campus with half of Shiz to go dance at Ozdust,” you said. “That’s not exactly a good first impression.” 

“I’d argue the opposite,” he said. Fiyero tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you for a moment. His gaze made you uncomfortably aware of yourself. “I don’t recall seeing you there.” 

“That’s because I wasn’t there.” You looked back down at your encyclopedia to avoid his eyes. “I had more important things to do.” 

He frowned. “Do you ever take a day off?” 

“Of course,” you said. “There isn’t any class on the weekends.” 

“I mean with this,” he said, gesturing at all the books around you. “It doesn’t seem like you allow yourself a single moment of respite. When you’re not in class, you’re studying. When you’re not studying, you’re doing work. When you’re not doing any of it, you’re probably dreaming of your future assignments.” 

You felt your skin heat. Surely you weren’t that transparent. 

“...I don’t dream of them,” you defended. “Not— not always.” 

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?” 

You frowned. “How am I ridiculous? You’re incapable of taking a single thing seriously.” 

“And you’re incapable of not taking everything seriously,” Fiyero said. “It can’t be good for your health.” 

“I plan to get out of here a year early,” you said, looking back at your books. “I can’t slack off like you do if I want that plan to come to fruition.” 

“Oh, I’ve gotten out of every school I’ve been in a year early,” Fiyero said. “Sometimes two or three— Oz, sometimes I don’t even make it through the first semester.” 

Your eyes snapped back up to him, widened in instinctual panic. “What?” 

He burst out laughing, and it grinded every one of your gears. “Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face! It’s priceless— truly priceless!” 

“You’ve been kicked out of every school you’ve been to and you think it’s a joke?” 

Still laughing, he shrugged. “It is. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m still having the time of my life wherever I go.” 

You just shook your head as you stared at him, eyes still wide. “Are you always like this?”

“Utterly charming?” 

“Entirely insufferable.”

You didn’t understand how he laughed. Everything rolled right off him, like oil off a duck’s back, no matter how many times you insulted him. 

“You know, there are other things to life than your studies,” he said.

“Not while I’m here, there isn’t,” you said. “It’s the whole point of university.” 

“The point of university is to have fun,” he said. “You’ve seen how this place has perked up since I’ve gotten here, haven’t you?” 

“Not really, no,” you said. “I’ve been more focused on other things.” 

“Like?” 

“Like my studies.” 

“It’s like I’m talking to a broken record,” he marveled. “Have you ever had fun in your life?” His eyes widened comically. “Do you even know what the concept of fun is?” 

“Ha ha,” you said dryly. 

He tilted his head. “Do you?” 

You frowned. “Of course I do.” 

“Okay, then.” Fiyero leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”

Your frown deepened. “We aren’t doing a research paper on me.”

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Is it a crime to want to know my partner?”

A muscle worked in your jaw as you stared at him. He stared back, entirely unaffected. 

“If I humor you, will you actually work with me through this?”

Fiyero held up his hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Finally, you broke. You folded your arms with a short sigh then glanced away. “Fine. I’m from a tiny village in Gillikin that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m here on scholarship with the plan to graduate, become a historian, and make a name for myself.” You looked back at him. “Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s excellent,” Fiyero said with a smile. “Dare I say I’ve learned more about you in one short day than I have in the entirety of my time at Shiz?”

You gave him a fake smile as you tapped your book. “Open your textbook. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to ask about me?”

“I mean this with all due respect—what could there possibly be to know about you?” You raised an eyebrow as you counted off on your fingers. “You’re from the Vinkus, you’re a prince, and you’ve never read a book a day in your life.” 

“Oh, that’s not true,” he chastised. “I’ve read at least one—I just choose not to.” 

“Well, how about we make that two?” You reached across the table and opened his book for him. “Unless that prince’s honor isn’t worth a thing.” 

“Oh, it’s worth everything,” Fiyero said. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Then prove it.” 

“Very well,” he nodded. “I believe I can be serious for the next… fifteen minutes.” 

“You won’t even get through a chapter,” you said. “Thirty.” 

Fiyero frowned. “You set awfully high expectations.” 

“Why do you think Doctor Dillamond forced me to help you?” you asked. 

“Because you’re oh so nice and charitable?”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. If you’d been looking closer, you would have seen Fiyero’s smile grow, his eyes soften. 

“Of course. Now, go to the glossary, find Ilara, and start writing. I know practically everything about her already, so you need to catch up.”

“I don’t have—”

You held out your extra notebook and fountain pen and cocked your head. “Don’t have what?”

Fiyero chuckled as he took them from you. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you said with a satisfied smile. “Now get reading, my prince.”

He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “At once, my lady.”

-

You looked at the clock on the wall. Fiyero should have been here by now. 

Granted, he was ten minutes late to your first meeting, but that was before he’d changed your expectations ever so slightly. Almost an hour had passed, and there was still no sign. 

Of course, it wasn’t as if it hindered your progress. You kind of always expected him to fall short—if he showed at all, that was a credit to him—so you already had half the outline done. But a small part of you that you’d never admit to might have actually been looking forward to his presence. 

You enjoyed the bout of verbal sparring he engaged you in. A lot of your classmates thought you were mean, and it never bothered you. Like you told Fiyero, you were here for one reason and one only, and the amount of people that liked you at university didn’t influence that at all. Your professors liked you and your grades were perfect—that was all. 

But you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t… nice. For Fiyero to take everything you said in stride, with a smile and a retort of equal measure.

It was nice. But that was all. 

You were jarred out of your thoughts by someone calling your name. You looked up to see Fiyero sauntering over, bearing his usual smile and not much else.

“This is a library,” you said once he got closer. “You aren’t supposed to shout.”

He took the seat across from you. “I’d hardly call that shouting.”

“You aren’t meant to be loud,” you decided. “Why are you so late?”

Fiyero shrugged. “I lost track of time?”

“You know, we are partners,” you emphasized your last word, “so it would be helpful if you could try to put in the same amount of effort as me.”

“That seems impossible.” He gestured at your notebook with his head, your current page already nearly full. “You’ve got me beat on nearly everything.”

“It’s not that difficult,” you intoned. “I mean, just do some research outside of class.”

He stared at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what I expect with you, honestly.”

“Exactly what you see, darling. Now,” Fiyero's gaze drifted over to the window, then looked back at you as he stood up, “what do you say we put a hold on things and enjoy this beautiful day?” 

Your brows furrowed. “What, you mean do our research outside?” 

“Is your work truly all you think about?” he asked in exasperation. “I mean leave the books and your notes and your stress here, and take a stroll around campus.” 

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was ten years old,” you said. “Of course it is. I am not going to have some— some—”

“Some what?” Fiyero interrupted. He still looked remarkably unaffected by your outburst, that sideways smile of his infuriatingly charming. 

“Some ridiculous, pompous, self-absorbed, lazy Winkie prince ruin it!” you exclaimed. 

“Lazy,” he mused. “That’s a new one.” 

“Of course you’re lazy! Why would we take a break when we have a project to do?” 

Fiyero looked at you like you were crazy— no, like he was worried about you. He shook his head. “You really do have a one track mind.” 

“When we’re in midterm season, yes, I d— what are you doing?”

Fiyero had started stacking all of the books you had on the table away from you, then he grabbed your notebook and your pen out of your hand.

“You need a break,” he said. 

“I don’t need a break, and give that back—”

You reached for your materials but only just grazed his hand before he pulled them back and set them on top of the pile. “When was the last time you saw the sun?” 

You scoffed. “I see the sun all the time.” 

“Not from a window in the library or your dorm.” 

You bit your tongue. Fiyero smiled and held out his hand. 

“You need a break.” 

You stared at his hand. He gave you a cloying look. 

“It’s not a good sign that you’re this against self-care,” he said wryly. 

You sighed and reluctantly placed your hand in his. “Fine.”

Fiyero grinned and he pulled you close. You yelped at the unexpected speed and you tumbled into his chest. Fiyero’s hand dropped to your waist, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him, wide eyed. 

“Shall we?” he murmured. 

You jolted away from him once you came back into yourself, your skin burning where he’d touched you. 

“We shall,” you said, a bit too forcefully as you started walking a bit too fast. 

Fiyero chuckled. He matched your pace easily, soon coming up beside you. “You’re already that excited?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bit out. “You’ve already gotten what you want. No need for more.”

He feigned naivety. “What would I possibly be doing?”

You shook your head with a huff. “I’m not entertaining that with a response.”

Fiyero simply hummed. You glanced over at him, still staying even with you, and then you let out another huff as you stopped. He didn’t miss a beat, pausing at the same time as you, then met your flustered expression with a smile. 

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” you said, gesturing in front of you with a hand. “So lead the way.”

“Gladly,” he said. “I’m very good at taking the lead.”

Fiyero started walking and, though you had half a mind to take the opportunity and dart back to the library, you found yourself following him. 

Cora’s words spun around your head as you and Fiyero walked together, about him turning the full force of his flirting on you in return for you being such a stickler for your midterm. 

That was the embarrassing thing; you didn’t even think this was half of it, and he already had you blushing—and for what? It was as if you’d never even talked to a boy before. 

You’d had plenty of experience back home. Village boys coming into your parents’ store to flirt at you, leaving notes in your desk in class, offering to walk you home at night—plenty of experience. 

It didn’t matter that you denied them all and never went anywhere because you had a one track mind even then, and that Fiyero had done what no one else had and gotten you take a break simply because he asked nicely—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Fiyero’s arm suddenly pressed against your chest, stopping you in place. Your head snapped up to look at him, mouth already open with questions loaded, but he gestured with his head before you could ask any of them. 

You’d nearly barreled right down the stairs from being lost in your head, without care nor consideration for actually taking the steps. 

“Mind the gap, darling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you damaging that brain of yours.”

“…Thank you,” you said once you’d regained the ability to speak words again. “One of us ought to have one.”

Fiyero laughed as he took his arm away. “Certainly.” He used it to gesture down the stairs. “Ladies first—unless you’re unsure of your ability to conquer them.”

“I’ll be just fine, Fiyero.” You started the descent, Fiyero right behind you, and you let out another short sigh. 

There had to be something wrong with you. That was the only explanation for why you were acting this way.

Maybe you really did need to start getting more sleep. 

[sunflowerwinds]

hers | s.a

summary: your bright personality unexpectedly draws in sevika and she can’t help but fall for you. when finn makes a comment that he can’t take back, sevika reminds him and you how much you mean to her.

pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane

contains: mature language and content (18+), set sometime between act 1 and act 2 of season 1, established relationship, sunshine!reader, sensitive!reader, reader is described to wear more feminine outfits and makeup, finn being a WEIRDO to reader like omg, minor violence to men who deserve it, smut including — no foreplay, strap-on (hex-strap <3) r!recieving, sevika calls reader pet names such as sunshine, pretty girl, baby, sweet girl, angel, rushed ending.

word count: 4.4K

a/n: i’m ready to bear her children. a little treat before what we might endure in act 2. muah muah i love you angels <333 i am so sorry for posting this so late within the day. i had a hectic day at work but i pushed through for yall!

Sevika would never be described as a bright person.

Her position as Silco’s right-hand woman made her eerily unapproachable. She wore a poker face, gambled with ease, and was expertly skilled in combat. Fear struck in those who dared to try her.

Except, well, you.

When you first took the position as a waitress at The Last Drop, you were immediately drawn to the so-called scary woman. You heard whispers amongst the customers of her actions but all you saw was a tall, gorgeous woman.

Chuck, at least you assumed that was his name as the little 12-year-old girl with bright blue hair repeatedly called him in when she was lingering around, noticed your longing gaze at the woman. He warned you that someone as preppy as you is not someone Sevika would enjoy in her presence.

You were aware of your bubbly personality that, to most, was a bit overwhelming to be around. Your outfits drew attention as you enjoyed more frilly and bright things, always wearing jewelry or makeup or both to color coordinate with your outfits. It brought you joy and you weren’t ashamed of it.

You ignored him as you thought he was being ridiculous. How could she judge you so quickly without even getting to know you?

“I’m going to say hi!” You state with a nod to Chuck. “Do you know her favorite drink?”

You lean against the counter, beaming charmingly at the man. He hesitates as he doesn't want you to get yelled at or scoffed at for even trying.

“I-I don’t know. Sevika’s not… fond of being interrupted during her poker games.”

You blink as you turn back around to watch her shuffle the cards with one clawed and flesh hand, a cigar hanging from her beautiful lips. As much as you wanted to go over there and admire her up close; Chuck was right.

You didn’t want to be rude.

“I’ll just wait until she’s done then,” you nod to confirm.

And that’s what you do. You watch as her opponents angrily toss their forfeit onto the table, muttering curses at the woman. The larger woman keeps her cool composure, a winning smirk on her face. You grin happily at her now empty table, grabbing the drink Chuck had reluctantly handed you to deliver to the woman.

You control the pep in your step as much as you can as you didn’t want to spill the drink. Sevika gathers the coins into her leather pouch when you first approach her table.

“Hi!” You smile warmly.

Sevika, much to your surprise, doesn’t ignore you as Chuck made you believe she would. In fact, she sits back in her seat, her gray eyes trailing up and down your figure as you set down the drink.

“I thought I’d bring you a celebratory drink and introduce myself,” you beam as you clasped your hands behind your back. “You’re Sevika, right?”

And she was even more devilishly charming up close. That was a given but you were able to admire her little marks much closer now. You even noticed blue scars running up the side of her face, trailing down the side of her mechanic arm.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Sevika hummed as she moved her gaze to your awaiting eyes.

You nod, trying not to burst out with excitement so you wouldn’t scare her.

“I am! Just started a week ago, I think. I saw you when I first started and wanted to go say hi and Chuck told me not to,” you wave off like the man was ridiculous with a lovely chuckle. “Everyone says you’re scary but you don’t seem scary to me.”

Sevika’s eyes had flickered over to the bar where Chuck was avoiding her sharp gaze as you unknowingly ratted him out. She decides to let whatever he said slide and focus on the vision that is you right in front of her.

With one more once over your frame, Sevika actually grins at you.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to scare someone as pretty as you, angel.”

Sevika takes her cigar from her lips to blow out the smoke away from you and reaches across the table to grab the drink. You were obsessed with the way she called you ‘angel’, wanting to hear her voice on a loop forever.

“You think I’m pretty?” You swore your face was stretching due to how much you were smiling.

Sevika hums as she takes a slow sip from the slightly rusted glass.

“The prettiest,” she affirmed your question before leaning in close so she could look you in the eyes, admiring the shimmer over your eyelids. “I hope to see you around.”

You nod with an overwhelming flushed face, practically bouncing on the soles of your shoes. You left the table with an overwhelming amount of confidence. Sevika watched you walk back to the bar counter to gush to Chuck about how nice she was.

That was only the beginning of Sevika’s infatuation with you.

She tried to ignore the bubbling feeling of yearning for you but every time she came into the Last Drop, you were just the sweetest girl to her and never made her feel like just a crime lord. Every outfit you wore had her on the verge of begging on her knees for you to let her make you feel so good because that’s what you deserve.

You asked her random questions about her and her life when you would bring her drinks, slowly emerging into Sevika’s life. Sure, it was the bare minimum and you acted this way with most. But when you stared at her as she spoke, nodding to show you were listening and taking in every word with those lovely eyes, she knew she was fucked.

Within the first month of meeting, Sevika built up the courage to ask you out after your shift at the Last Drop. You, of course, were as sweet about it as ever. After that first date, everything shifted in the bond that you two had made over those weeks.

You quickly learned how obsessed and protective Sevika would be over you. Her arm — mechanic or not — would be draped over your soft hips, signaling to everyone that you were hers.

Word quickly spread about you and Sevika’s relationship.

It seemed like out of the blue the men and women would give you dirty looks and make passive-aggressive comments in the Last Drop became significantly nicer to you as well. When you would beam to Sevika how you all of a sudden started getting tipped more at work, she would congratulate you, showering you with kisses.

Little did you know it was because everyone was afraid to rub you the wrong way and that you would tell the intimidating woman. If you were upset, which was rare, you could guarantee Sevika would be just as upset if not more than you.

Just as she had treated you like the princess she saw you as you were just as loving to her. There was no shocker there as you didn’t seem to have one malicious bone in your body. When you weren’t at work, you were right next to Sevika. Whether it’d be at Silco’s office or helping her babysit Jinx, you’d happily be right by her side to help or just be there for support.

The little blue-haired girl would constantly tease Sevika about being a ‘big old softie’ when you came around. You thought she was the cutest thing and Sevika would simply tell her to shut it.

Like any other day, you were sitting on her lap during her poker games, leaning over her shoulder to stare at the hand she had. The opponents across the table were gawking and staring at you, clearly getting distracted by your beauty and outfits. Even after almost a year of being together, Sevika would get so flustered when you would place a kiss on her cheek or jaw when she won a match. She couldn’t — and would never even try — to hide her love and admiration for you.

She called you your good luck charm as if she hadn’t already become a pro at poker before you popped out of nowhere.

This particular match was different though. Her opponents were ones that you knew — Finn and Smeech. You had seen them a few times when you swung by Silco’s office to drop off some treats for your girlfriend and whoever wanted some as well.

You didn’t mean to but you made eye contact with Finn while you were simply gazing around the surrounding space. His bright luminescent green eyes catch yours and you immediately look away. Sevika notices the tension in your body and clears her throat, her strong arm settling around your waist to try and ease you.

“Your eyes are getting away from your cards, Finn,” Sevika quipped, eyes narrowing for a moment before focusing on your breathing that was picking up.

Her thumb rubbed at the revealed skin. You place a gentle hand on her larger one, trying to distract yourself. Most that were played against Sevika didn’t even dare to look you in the eyes; you were Sevika’s and they knew better.

Turns out, Finn was not aware of this.

“Well, something is distracting me, Sevika.” Finn’s off-putting comment made your stomach turn, looking at you with an almost predatory look.

Sevika’s nostrils flared for a moment, puffing out some of the smoke from the cigar dangling from her lips. Your hand tightened on hers, blinking and looking away from him.

“You sure picked a pretty one,” Finn continued and you looked up at him to see him wink at you. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You are taken aback by the question, glancing at Sevika as you mutter out your name. Usually, you were able to converse with the opponents to distract them from Sevika with your effortless charm but you wanted to do anything but talk to Finn.

“Focus on the game or get up from the table,” Sevika warns the man.

You hated seeing Sevika get angry as you knew her as anything but. Sure, she was grumpy and had a stone-cold face but she was the most attentive and loyal girlfriend to you.

“Sev,” you whisper to try and ease her clear anger with the man.

Finn chuckles at her obvious irritation with him. Sevika’s lip twitches at the sound and she sucks in a deep breath, glancing down at the hand of cards.

“Are you done or can we get this going?”

You look back at Sevika with an awkward smile. You felt like you were on display at an exhibit with his eyes on you and not in the way that Sevika looked at you.

No, she was so tender and loving with you.

“You know what? I, um, I forgot the muffins I made in the office. I’ll be right back, baby,” you pat her hand that was gripping onto your torso.

Sevika’s gray eyes found your gaze, watching as they anxiously darted from eye to eye. You were uncomfortable. Finn made you feel uncomfortable. From the moment you weakly smiled at her, Sevika knew she had to deal with him the moment you were out of her eye-line.

“Okay, sweet girl. Be quick. Need my good luck charm,” Sevika curtly nodded, plastering on a grin for your sake.

“I’ll be quick. I love you,” you ignore the obvious stares from the two across the table as you lean down to place a lovely kiss on her lips.

The taste of your lips fogs Sevika’s brain for a moment, reluctantly releasing your waist so you can leave her presence. “And I love you.”

You send her one more darling smile before keeping your distance from the two opponents as you make your way to where the office is located. You wave to Chuck as you pass by him handing a drink to Jinx at the bar in her signature cup.

You pat her on the head and flick one of her collarbone-length braids, watching her whip her head to find your awaiting grin. She leans forward to capture the straw between her lips, waving to you. You chuckle at her mean face before she realized it was you.

Sevika watched you walk away until you were completely out of sight before she reached over the table to grab onto the hair on Finn’s head and slammed it down thrice onto the wooden table. Her large hand held him down, watching him struggle to let himself up after the impact it had on his head.

The thud mixed with his pained grunt echoed, the few people within the bar pausing their movements. Objects clattered and chairs scooted to see where the sound came from. She uses her mechanic hand to take the cigar out of her mouth to rest it on the little ashtray that you sculpted for her.

“You really just couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut,” Sevika snarled at the man who was getting small splinters embedded into his skin from the old wood.

“He didn’t mean it,” Smeech proposed after being silent throughout the entire match up until now. Fucking coward, Sevika thought to herself. “We could… work out a deal to make this go away.”

Sevika scoffed as she started up her mechanical arm, the blade within it revealing itself and extending to push against the small jaw of Smeech’s fury face.

“A misunderstanding is all,” Smeech sputtered out, glancing at Finn’s smashed-in face.

Sevika stood up from her seat to grab onto Finn’s hair and ram him up against the nearest wall, head pounding against the tough wood. The man had yet to say a word about his over-the-line actions. A bloody smile was all he wore. Her hand held him up against the wall, her chest heaving from anger and her hand tightening to watch him writhe under her touch.

“Complete forfeit and that’s it. We’re gone. We’ll never look at her again,” Smeech rushed out

“And what would Silco say to this reckless behavior? We’re partners, you know?” Finn coughed out, spitting some of his blood out onto the ground. “Would not be too keen on that now would he?”

Sevika glanced over at Smeech’s trembling figure, carefully lowering her blade. He was right. As much as she wished she could beat his face until it was black and blue, nearing death, Silco would have more than a few words for her. She retracts the blade back into the arm and releases Finn from his throat, watching him pant and rub at the sore area.

“Leave the money,” Sevika grabbed the still-lit cigar and pressed it onto Finn’s free hand when he wasn’t paying attention. He gasped at the burn seeping into his skin, unable to react as Sevika grabbed him by the collar to push him toward the exit. “And get the hell out here.”

Smeech kept his distance as he nodded in understanding of Sevika’s anger. He released a frantic chuckle as he, along with Finn, left the building without looking back. Sevika shook out her hand and stretched a bit. When she takes a look around, the paused customers instantly continue their previous actions.

“Sev?” She hears you call from behind her, your footsteps growing closer. “Wait, what happened?”

Sevika shook her head as she turned to face your confused expression at the now-empty table. She glanced down at the small tray of muffins that you and Jinx made.

“They had places to be.”

“Aww. I was going to give them a muffin to try before they left. They’re not like ones that’d be up in Piltover but I think we did a pretty good job.” You motion to the berry muffins. “Have you tried one yet? I can’t remember.”

Sevika hums with a shake of her head before grabbing one off of the tray.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” She insisted with a hand out for you to take.

You nod happily at her suggestion, intertwining your fingers with yours as you leave out the door of the Last Drop.

Entering Sevika’s apartment, you rambled about the muffins you made. You were yet to notice Sevika practically undressing you with her eyes.

“I just think if you know if I was able to get a different kind of fruit,” you examine one of them in your hand, letting Sevika lead you by your hip around to the kitchen so you could set your muffins down on the countertop. “You know? Next time you have a transportation, can you stop by a fruit vendor or something up there so that I could—”

“Baby,” Sevika chuckles at your rambling as she rests her hands on your waist, squeezing the plush skin to grab your attention.

“Oh, right. Tell me about the rest of the poker game,” you shook your head and patted her bicep, looking up at her with a sweet smile.

Sevika could take you right there and then. She presses a loving kiss onto your lips before using her non-mechanic hand to cup the side of your face, keeping her hunger for you at bay for now.

“Did I ruin it when I left? Is that why everyone was gone when I came back?” You question, your face wincing at the idea that you may have altered the game. “I-I know I was… being distracting to Finn and I didn’t mean to.”

Sevika shook her head at your words, shushing your insecure thoughts creeping into your head.

“No. No, you did nothing wrong. Finn was the one out of line,” Sevika sneered, rubbing her thumb along the apple of your cheek.

“Are you sure?” You checked in one more time.

“Yes, angel. I mean it,” her voice is assertive but reassuring.

You nod, sighing as you lean into the comforting feeling of her palm. The feeling of discomfort from half an hour ago still lingered in your mind. You release an awkward chuckle, staring up at Sevika’s comforting gray eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just never felt that weird before.”

Sevika’s brows furrowed at your confession. Once you realize how depressing you sound, you shake your head as you reach up to cup her stern face, running your thumb over her blue scars. She wished she would’ve just finished Finn off right there and then seeing you contemplate who you are because of him.

“You… are perfect. Everything about you,” Sevika breathed out, leaning in to place kisses on the under of your jaw.

You gasp softly at the feeling, running a hand over the length of her shoulder. Her hand cupped at your neck, her thumb pressing underneath your to get you to tilt your chin upwards. You pant as her lips trail down the length of your neck, barely ghosting her lips to draw the neediness out of you.

It didn’t take much for you to get riled up for Sevika. Because, well, it was Sevika. She learned every spot that drove you wild and made it her mission to take advantage of that.

“I-I’m really okay, Sev,” you assure her but your slack jaw gave away how much you wanted this.

“Do you want me to stop?” She questions, pausing her movements but still heavily panting against your neck.

You shake your head rapidly, hand cursing up the back of her head into her hair.

“No, no. Please don’t.”

And how could she not give you what you want? Especially when you’re so sweet.

“Such a sweet girl, baby,” she breathed out before backing out of the comforting crook of your neck.

You preen at the praise, looking up at her with dazed-out eyes. Your hands were clamped down on the counter behind you, the ledge digging into your back. She traced the wet mark on your skin before delving back into your lips.

You ‘hmph’ at the attack on you but recover quickly, falling into a rhythm against her. Her hands settle back on your waist, her real hand sneaking up your top to run her fingers over your ribcage. You shiver against her, the sound of your lips smacking and the feeling of her tongue grazing over your bottom lip increasing your arousal.

“Wanna get up on the corner for me?” Sevika hums between kisses, her hands gripping at the meat of your thighs.

You nod with a hum, releasing the counter. Sevika lifted you with ease, hoisting you up on the counter. You couldn’t but giggle at the motion, still not being used to the fact that she was that strong. Her muscles were a constant reminder but when she was able to effortlessly move you around, you swore you were on top of the world.

“Need you, Sev,” you whisper against her lips, a smile creeping onto your lips.

Sevika's eyes shut at the sound of you asking for, needing her.

“Say that again, pretty girl,” she mutters as her grip on you tightens.

You smile against her lips as you peck them a few times before tilting your head up at her.

“I need you, baby. Please.”

Sevika released a near growl at your begging for her. She nearly knocks you back onto the counter as her lips find yours once again. Your bodies press up against one another, grinding your crotches. Your eyebrows raise at the bulge in between her legs.

You were not expecting her to be wearing the strap-on around. A pleasant surprise, nonetheless.

Sevika must've noticed you slowing down, pulling away with a slight smirk.

“You want it?” Sevika hummed, slowly grinding the bulge against you once again.

You nod again with greed, clawing at her back. With quick and hurried movements, you helped her move your panties down from underneath your rather short skirt. Sevika runs her hands up the plush of your thighs as her lips kiss your collarbones.

Growing impatient, you take matters into your own hands and reach for the button of her pants. Sevika hummed at the feeling, in fact pushing your hips into your hands to encourage the neediness. You took the strap out of her briefs, not wanting to take the time for foreplay.

You were positive that you were wet enough for Sevika to just ease into you. She chuckles at you angling your hips so she could line herself up to your aching pussy.

“Needy girl,” she teases.

You flush at the mocking, loving any sort of attention she was giving you. Your mind had completely blanked on why you were feeling so weird in the first place. Sevika was all that was able to make its way through your thoughts.

Her rough yet tender hands, her addicting lips, her toned waist, her ever-so-loving voice.

Just Sevika.

“Should’ve killed him for staring at you,” Sevika mutters against your skin. “For talking to you like that, angel.”

You shake your head at her words. “Just want you, Sev.”

Sevika nodded, knowing how much you hated seeing the violence. You, of course, knew it was a part of her job but when you saw people physically get hurt, you could feel it too. You would hate to know someone got hurt on your account.

“I’ll take care of you,” Sevika says out loud as if she’s trying to get herself back on track.

You were a waiting mess for her and she was thinking about killing that fucker. She blinked and looked at you, really admiring every curve of your body. Your hands were running over her broad shoulder, glancing down at the dildo in between you two.

Her hands push your legs apart, a smile growing on her face. You pant as your patience is wearing thin, watching her grab the base end of the strap to glide the tip through your folds. She was still teasing you, an evil smirk on her lips.

“Baby, don’t be mean,” you whine, looking up at her with desperation written all over your face.

Sevika whispers an ‘I’m sorry’, placing a kiss and soft bite underneath your dropped jaw. She held your hips still in place as she carefully inched herself into you. You gasped and moaned at the stretch inside of you. Sevika’s head tilts back as she curses under her breath.

You swore at times she acted like she really could feel you through the strap.

“Fuck,” she groans, humming as she bottoms out inside of you.

Your nails were digging into the scarred skin of her neck, emitting another moan from the woman. Without wasting another second, Sevika, once she was sure you were okay, began thrusting inside of you.

Your tits bounced with every thrust, nearly popping out of your top from movements. Sevika shamelessly watched your face twist in pleasure, your beautiful skin glistening with her saliva from her wet kisses and your sweat.

“Baby,” you moan out, shivering when she thrusts hard up into you.

Sevika grabbed underneath your jaw with her real hand, making you make eye contact with her as she fucked into you.

“My perfect girl,” she praises as her thrusts continue, slapping against your inner thighs.

You preen at the praise, wanting to look away but Sevika wouldn’t let you. Your stomach tightens at your overwhelming fast orgasm approaching. It was creeping up your spine, burning in the best way possible.

“Just like that, baby,” Sevika nodded as she released your face to focus on your soft hips.

Your breathy and whiny moans drive Sevika to speed up her thrusts into you. Your legs were hiked up around her toned waist, brushing deliciously at her v-line.

“Sev, please,” you beg.

For what? You weren’t sure anymore.

“Say you’re perfect. Say it for me, angel,” Sevika groaned as she continued her thrusts inside of you, one of her hands cupping underneath your jaw.

Your mind was foggy, barely able to focus on what she was asking you what to do. Your hips stutter as you try to match the pace of her thrusts.

“I’m… p-perfect.” You sputter through your heavy breathing, reaching and holding onto her strong forearm.

The metal of her mechanic arm made your skin shiver as she shifted your legs to somehow reach deeper into you. Your painted nails dug into her skin as you tried to adjust to the angle change.

“You’re my perfect girl. My angel, my sunshine,” Sevika praises you as her thrusts become sloppier, a shiver running down her spine.

Nothing, not even Shimmer, could compare to the euphoric feeling of being with you like this. Nothing was as addicting as you.

“Yours,” was all you could whimper out.

You were sure your makeup was smudged, most of your eyeshadow faded from the heat exuding from your body. Sevika wouldn’t let you even try to think about anything else but feeling good.

“‘M yours too, angel. Don’t you forget it.”

TAGLIST: @eilishxo @prettydeeryess @hauntedclaudio @maaaaaaaaaaari @prettysuplicant @twlaei @soodle-noup @xayn-xd @fict1onallyobsessed @lamiadrowned @asmrgirll @lovinglynny @kylorey25 @kissyslut @archangeldyke-all

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.

Chapter 1:

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Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Dark pupils watched from the ceiling, their gaze affixed upon you. You sighed, deciding to ignore its presence.

An aggravated chitter interrupted you. Pausing, you watched as a little green bird jumped out of the bat’s shadow. It paced towards you, making a small leap to land on your outstretched finger. You smiled, extending your hand to pet the top of its head. The bird took a moment to consider the moment, head tilting with its beak outstretched as if it intended to bite you. It seemed to decide on sparing your finger, allowing you to give the bird some pets on the head.

However, it was time to resume your work. You turned back to your computer, a dismissal. The bird didn't like that. A quick flash, and the bird tittered about on your keyboard, messing up your setup.

“Robin!” You snap, reaching out as if to push the bird away.

You sighed. You disliked calling the bird Robin. It was the correct species, despite the bird being green, so it made sense to use the name. But.. you hated the connection it created between your soul bonded animals and the vigilantes of the city. Unfortunately, the bird didn't answer to any other name. You've tried.

The other robins were so much more agreeable than this newer one. Well, not that you could even call those three robin anymore. The newer robin was very possessive of the name, and you'd rather not have to search your room for more stray feathers that flew off in their next fight. Your soul animals were such a pain.

The flutter of wings distracts you from your musings. You look up, finding the very bat you had been so cautiously avoiding earlier descend onto your desk. The bat chirped a little, with the robin occasionally replying back with chirps of its own. They were having their own conversation.

You decided you were owed a break already, so you gave up on your dreams of getting work done in lieu of watching the ongoing conversation. It was rare for soul animals to talk. They didn't need to. Due to the nature of a soul bond, soul animals act on the innermost feelings of the soul they represent. The bond connects souls, so soul animals, which are a manifestation of the bond, are already intune with their soulmates.

The only instance in which soul animals did tend to talk, was if the soulmates themselves were talking.

Robin chittured with a snap, the bat in return giving a controlled chirr.

Oooh. You thought to yourself. This sounds like an argument. You wondered what it was about. Maybe Robin pecked one too many victims, or caused a mess again.

Ah. You were thinking of your bonded as just animals again. To be fair, it was fairly easy. The only things you knew of your soulmates were because of how the animals acted. Anything else, and you were in the dark. That's how you wanted to think, anyway.

Maybe while they were distracted… You scoot back a little in your chair, until you figure you’re out of their line of sight. You make for the door, tipping out of your seat as quietly as you can. You're almost out the door when a weight settles itself on your head.

You sigh.

“Robin. Get off me, please.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the presence doesn't budge. Obliging, you reach up to your head, feeling the bird’s little feet jump onto your hand. Bringing Robin to eye level, you stare at it, unimpressed.

A nearby bat of wings draws you out of your faceoff. Guess sneaking out on your own was too much to ask for, as always.

“Ughhh.” You whine. Your soulmates were going to push you into complete isolation at this rate.

“Fine. You two already know the drill.”

You point at the Bat. “You can never follow me, I mean it. A bat is way too ominous of a soul animal to be flying around. It's just asking for trouble.”

The Bat remains silent, watching. Always, watching. You really hated it sometimes.

In all honesty, a robin wasn't too great of a soul animal to have with you in Gotham either. But your robins came in odd colours, so people didn't always clock that the bird was actually a robin. Sometimes you said that your soul animal was a greenfinch or a swallow. It tended to work, as long as no one looked twice.

A bat was much harder to hide.

“So..”. You give up, gesturing to your bag. “Just get in already, I'll make the trip quick.” You always had to make any outings short with this particular robin. If you spent too long with someone it got snippy. Very, snippy.

The other three robins tended to be a bit more accommodating. Well, not by much.

Robin glides into your bag, a movement of precision and grace. Not for the first time, you wonder what your bonded was like in person.

Deciding to dismiss the thought, you unlatch your door, heading out.

Just another day, with your soulmates.

~ ~ ~ ~

Your parents told you about your birth. You were born to a bat watching your window. It wasn't such a red flag, at first. The maternity ward was flush with newborn babes, so your parents figured that the bat was bound to another child. It was what they had hoped for, anyway.

Plenty of children weren't born with soulbonds. It wasn't a concern. They could be the elder of a bond. Or, they could have a delayed bond. They weren't concerned.

But… then it followed you home. Your parents settled you down, snug in your crib. When they next came to check up upon you, it was there. Perched upon the crib, watching you. When they next blinked, it was gone.

The very next day, your parents awoke to the Bat watching you again. But this time, a smaller bird was snuggled to your sleeping face. It clung to you all day, refusing to disappear when they appeared like the Bat did. It was… very mouthy.

They had assumed this to be a good development, everyone knew The Night worked alone. They were happy.

They were happy, even when another robin appeared the subsequent day. A scruffy one, snappy. Its feathers were still growing out. Young.

Perhaps they should have expected then, that the dawn the next new day would bring another little bird to your crib. The youngest one, a nestling still developing pin feathers. Despite its age, it held a keen gaze at them.

There weren't any more animals that appeared after that. So they hid any evidence of the Bat, and instead allowed you to grow up freely with your three birds.

The Bat was evidently the oldest in your soulbond. It was protective, almost parental, in its movements. It had a sixth sense for when you were in any danger, always emerging from the shadows with perfect timing. If a bat wasn't such a symbolic image in Gotham, you'd probably be more appreciative of its efforts.

The eldest bird was silly, performing aerial tricks and jumps that always brightened your day. It was keen, focusing on you whenever you felt down. It had the uncanny ability to appear whenever you were under the weather. When you said the word robin, it snapped to attention.

You decided to call it Robin.

The second bird was protective. It wasn't as loud as the eldest, but there was a spark of kindness in its gaze. Originally the bird was a lot rougher, but it started to calm down a few years in. Became stable. It always seemed to find you when you got stuck on homework, or landed on your shoulder whenever you flipped through a book.

The third bird was small. You assumed it was only a year or two older than you, due to how the bird’s feathers grew in. It wasn't as affectionate as the other two. Solitary, it often lingered in the shade. It watched you. It watched your other soul animals too, when they appeared. It seemed a little tired. It took you a bit, but eventually you realised it was lonely. After that, you always had a comforting word.

That is… until the Batman gained a partner. A boy decked out in green and yellow, the same feathers on your eldest bird. The vigilante called itself Robin.

As the duo gained notoriety, you were hidden more and more. There was danger in soulbonds, and nothing was more dangerous than vigilantes.

Robin became Nightwing. Your eldest bird grew in blue feathers. The bird stopped responding to its name. A new boy became Robin. You spotted green and yellow feathers growing in on your second bird. It started answering to Robin.

You knew who your soulmates were. After that, it was no secret. Not to you, not to your parents.

Your parents weren't happy anymore. But you were safe. They could be content with that. They considered reaching out. The evidence was obvious, they knew it, and you knew it. Maybe you could be even safer, if the Batman knew where you were.

And then you watched your Robin die.

The little bird had been stuck to you recently, seeming to be in an argument with the Bat. When in conflict, soul animals gravitated to those they weren't in disparity with, and this was nothing unfamiliar to you.

You had been stroking the little bird, as it rested on your lap. But then it jumped. It started shaking. It started crying. Bleeding.

You panicked. You tried to comfort it, to whisper caring words, to give a reassuring touch. You were young, you didn't know what to do. There was nothing you could do.

When a soulmate dies, the soul animal dies too.

The little Robin died, crying in your lap.

You had never looked at vigilantes the same way again.

There was no point in denial, not after that. Your bat became the Bat, the eldest robin named Wing. A few days later, your youngest soul animal developed new feathers. Green… and red. You didn't have a name for the bird, but you suspected you would soon.

You took a week off school.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Please be quiet, this time.” You muttered down to the green bird resting in your bag. It started at you with a condescending gaze. Ugh. Younger soulmates.

You'd sigh, but you've been doing that far too much lately as is.

Time to get this over with.

You enter the supermarket, one of your very few weekly outings. You start perusing the shelves, picking out what was in your list. As you're walking though, you hear a frustrated bark. You peak out from the shelves, spotting a lone woman tugging a leashed dog along.

Ah. You knew what this was. Everyone did. The other shoppers in the store paused too, staring at what was going on.

It was a rejected bond. When feelings between single soulbonded individuals become too bitter, the soul animal dissipates. Well, it was supposed to, and then reappear when feelings improve. But if the animal was constrained in some manner, then the animal can't disappear and is forced to remain in a physical form.

Judging from the leash on the dog’s neck, this was that same scenario. It was rather bold of the woman to bring the soul animal out in public if it was rejecting her like this. Almost brave.

Gothamites rarely helped each other, but things became a little sensitive with soul animals. You wouldn't be too surprised if there wasn't at least one attempt to free the dog today. It certainly caught attention. It could even catch.. vigilante attention.

You frowned. It was a shame to cut one of your few outings short. Sometimes there was no alternative though. You certainly wouldn't be sticking around.

You jumped at the sound of a shriek, eyes darting down to your bag where Robin rested. Robin glared venomously at your shoulder, and you glanced at it.

Your shoulder where… Ah. That would do it. Your shoulder where Red rested. Your third robin. You felt like crying. Why, why this pair?

You didn't even feel the bird as it appeared. Was that a testament to Red's stealth or your lacking observational skills?

Robin glared daggers at Red, practically hissing. You didn't even know birds could hiss. Red paid him no mind, instead looking very settled on your shoulder. The bird even snuggled your face a little. What a smug guy.

Another bark caught your attention. You glanced forward, remembering the scene. Your soul animal’s squabbling would draw too much attention. If any of the vigilantes were watching, you'd be in trouble. One robin soul animal was potentially excusable. But two? That would get you caught.

You tried to shush the two, a small signal for them to knock it off. Naturally, because it was these two, they ignored you. You groaned. This was far too public.

You grabbed Red, snatching him off your shoulder as gently as you could. Placing him gently into your shoulder bag, you tried your best to pretend the resulting screech from Robin wasn’t noticeable. The flap of your bag was closed, so no one could spot them… They could certainly hear if they came close enough though.

Time to leave. You paid for what you picked up and dashed out. The sight of rejected soulmates was generally considered disturbing, so anyone watching could just attribute your rush to that.

Were you paranoid?

Mayhaps a little.

You've justified it by the fact that you're probably soulmates with Batman and 4 robins, so paranoia is practically a requirement for your soul.

____

Hello ^ ^ welcome to my soulmate au! I do hope you enjoyed.

If you have any questions about the au, please feel free to reach out :D