#it's because to care is the only way to survive

[sttoru]

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. dad!toji x wife!reader. fluff, just pure fluff. reader gets called ‘doll’ once.

toji sits on the edge of megumi’s bed, arms casually draped over his knees, watching with an amused grin as you fuss over your son. you’re lecturing him about being more careful when playing with the other kids at daycare, replacing the bandages on his arms that had gotten scuffed from a tumble.

megumi sulks, his little face scrunched up, but he doesn’t dare to say a word. his gaze is cast downward and he knows better than to challenge you when you’re in your ‘mom’ mode.

toji chuckles to himself. the little brat—just like his old man, he thinks. neither of them ever have the guts to talk back when you’re laying down the law.

with a lazy smirk, toji reaches over and ruffles megumi’s hair in an affectionate and teasing way. “it's fine, doll,” he says in attempt to reassure you, “shit happens. ‘n it toughens up the kid.”

you shoot him a look over your shoulder and toji just shrugs. “he’s just like you, ya know,” you mutter as you brush a stray lock of hair from megumi's face. indeed, the little boy resembles his father in looks but also in personality. “stubborn, hard-headed. thinks he can take on the world without a scratch,” you sigh.

on one hand, you’re worried that megumi will get in real trouble one day because of it. but on the other hand, your son got an overprotective man as father. you know he will never let any harm befall either of you.

toji raises an eyebrow at your comment. oh, he knows and he’s proud of it. proud of his son, of the family he's created with you. “i mean—he needs to learn to take a few hits if he's gonna survive this world.”

you scoff before hugging megumi one last time. “mm, mama,” the toddler snuggles up to you, small hands clutching your shirt tightly. you feel the weight of his tiny form press against you while his cheek rests against your chest.

there’s something about the clingy way he holds you that melts something deep inside you. you press a gentle kiss to his messy hair, brushing a hand down his back as you breathe in the sweet, comforting scent of his shampoo.

“good night, sweets,” you murur, your voice barely above a whisper. “i love you.”

megumi’s small fingers tighten once more on your shirt as if reluctant to let go. his breathing is steady and you know he’s almost asleep. but then, your son shifts lightly. he pulls back from the hug enough to look up at toji, who’s leaning back against the headboard of the bed. he doesn't say a word, but there’s a clear look of expectation on his face, as though he's waiting for something only his dad can give.

toji meets his gaze with a blank expression that doesn’t give away a thing. he's clueless for a good couple seconds before picking up on what megumi wants.

your husband murmurs something incoherent before relenting. “yeah yeah, c'mere buddy,” he hums, his tone softening. he can't help it—even if he tries not to show the vulnerability in his demeanour.

“yay,” megumi's face brightens up a little and he eagerly reaches up with those tiny hands. toji pulls the kid into his arms, hugging him tighter than expected. the action is a little awkward, but there's no denying the warmth in it.

your heart melts as you witness the adorable scene before you. your son doesn’t seem to mind the tightness as his small arms encircle his father’s neck. it’s a simple moment between father and son, but it’s enough. enough for both of them.

toji pulls back after a little while. his eyes are softer than usual as he pinches megumi's button nose. “good night, kiddo,” he mutters, the words rough but warm, “don't let the bedbugs bite.”

megumi grins sleepily at him as he rubs his eyes. “i’ll kick their ass, papa,” he declares proudly, looking and acting more like his dad with the second. you roll your eyes and stand up from the bed. toji simply snorts, realising his son has picked up on the phrases he uses.

“tha’s right,” your husband nods after standing next to you, “you tell ‘em bedbugs to eat shi—”

“toji ,” you shush him with a swat to the bicep.

megumi lets out a small giggle in reply before laying back on his pillows. you pull the covers up to his chin and watch as his eyes slowly close, his body beginning to relax. the quiet rhythm of his breathing is the only sign of him settling down for the night.

toji lingers by the door and is simply content to watch you. you're always like this—so nurturing. he follows your every move as you leave a final kiss to your son’s cheek. the warmth that radiates in your presence, your affection, the simple yet tender moments are all things that make him fall in love with you over and over again.

you straighten up and turn towards toji, catching him staring. you can see the warmth in his eyes, the way his shoulders are completely relaxed, how that signature smirk of his seems more like a smile in that moment.

you chuckle to yourself before stepping out into the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar. toji follows with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. the silence hangs between you two for a bit. it’s comforting and. . . secure.

“y’know, you’re a real softie, toji,” you comment to break the quiet atmosphere. you tilt your head back to look at the dark-haired man who’s now next to you. you know he still struggles with being vulnerable around your son. the sentimentality is still an aspect he's working on.

however, you see it; the emotional side of him. the warmth in his eyes, in his touch, in his words - even if he’s not all that soft spoken.

you can see right through him.

“don't worry though. your secret's safe with me,” you tease with a soft grin.

toji doesn’t say a word for a few seconds before he chuckles under his breath, “just keep that between us, aye?” he responds to your teasing. he’s just glad that he’s married a woman who understands him and accepts him as is.

you both head to the living room. the weight of your day finally seems to lift. the quiet house and the soft breaths of megumi drifting from his room, feels like the calm after a storm. there are challenges ahead, no doubt, but for now everything is alright.

toji wraps his muscular arm around your shoulders as you both sink into the couch. the television playing something in the background, but neither of you pay it much attention. you lean against him and sigh, eyes closing slowly.

“you think he's gonna… turn out okay?” you ask softly. you’re not really sure how to word your worries. your voice holds an uncertainity that causes toji to hold you tighter.

your husband doesn't answer right away. instead, he glances down at you and strokes your hair with his free hand. he nods and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

toji leans his head back afterwards, closing his own eyes. no matter what the future holds, he's sure megumi will grow up to be a strong young man.

“yeah. that kid’s gonna be alright.”

[palmerzy]

NSFW! - incl. themes of nursing

spencer reid’s infatuation with breasts needs to be studied, and there’s no better candidate than the person with his favourite pair - you.

it starts off innocent, falling asleep with one another, bare, in a mess of tangled sheets after a particularly draining session. spencer’s head is atop your chest, nose nuzzled perfectly against the underside of your breast so he’s still able to inhale your scent. it grows to be not enough, and his sleep-riddled body loses any sense of dignity, his lips lazily wrapping around your nipple as he suckles and suckles, the sensation helping his slumber deepen. it’s his soft mewling which stirs you from your own sleep, groggily wiping at your eyes to make sure you’re seeing this right. and you are. he’s out like a light, mouth open against your nub and drool pooling onto the skin, his tongue occasionally flicking out for a taste.

when you gently alert him and rouse him from his sleep, he’s a blubbering mess of wide eyes and rosy cheeks, desperately trying to justify himself. evidently, by the way this behaviour persists in his sleep almost every single time he falls asleep above you, he’s not quite embarrassed enough to stop.

it gets to the point where you simply just ask spencer if he’d like to do it when he’s awake. get it over with as you’re heading to bed, rather than having the both of you awaken to a surprise. his brows shoot up and he thinks you’re joking, looking entirely exasperated. ‘what?’ ‘are- are you serious?’ ‘don’t you think it’s weird?’ he’d repeat over and over, calmed by your reassurance. ‘just when we’re sleeping,’ you say.

that doesn’t last very long. not long at all. you start to realise just how appealing it is having spencer’s lips tightly wound around your nipple, suckling as if they literally leak some kind of magical comforting essence into his mouth - which, obviously, they don’t. it’s a little entertaining to see a grown man so desperate to latch on, guiding your hands into his hair as he whimpers and whines, his noises dying down and his tongue stilling only once he’s drifted off to sleep.

and then it’s no longer limited to the bed, in the early hours of the morning. a case unsettles him, deeply, and he’s practically begging you as you sit on the couch to just let him have a taste whilst you watch tv. ‘just for five minutes’. he promises. you give in, because how couldn’t you give in to those big brown eyes, so desperate for the comfort and nurture of your body? with haste, it becomes routine for his lips to be attached to your breast any time he feels a rush of desperation to be cared for.

most of the time he lays on top of you, your shirt pulled just below one boob, his mouth perfectly wrapped around it, his tongue occasionally swirling the bud. other times, you’re straddling his lap, and he can’t get enough of having his face buried between the valley of your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth like a puppy, needing it to survive. of course, there are a few times where he drags you into a storage cupboard at the BAU headquarters, begging you to help him out. ‘just a quick taste, please?’ ‘i’m just- i miss you,’ ‘it’s been a week,’ he’d whine, scratching at the back of his neck and pushing his glasses up his nose, ever so awkward, even as he literally pleads his partner to let him nurse on them at work.

once he gets a taste, spencer reid can’t get enough. having your nipple in his mouth is almost as good as having his head between your thighs, and he humbly decides he loves those two things the most in his life. you know he’s heavily anticipating for when you swell with his child, and your breasts engorge with nectar.

requests open! 🌶️

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Away From You For The Holidays

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: unstable family relationships, please don't take offense this is completely fictional

Since Lando and you are not from the same country, this is another holiday that the two of you spend apart from each other. You still haven't gotten to the point where you spend the holidays with his family or he with yours because during the year you're both on the road all the time and spend little time with your families, so when Christmas time comes, your family wants you to spend that time with them, just like Lando's family wants to be with him.

You came home to your hometown a week before Christmas, and now that it's already the third day after Christmas, it's becoming difficult for both of you to be so far away from each other.

Now, your family can be tough sometimes. You've never had the warm and close relationship with your parents that Lando has always had with his. You love your parents as much as they love you, and you can thank only them for everything you've achieved in life, but the truth is that growing up, they weren't always fair to you, and you never had the emotional support from them that you wanted and needed as a child.

For example, your mom always has to add something a little negative to every compliment she gives you. Always. And if you mentioned to her that her comments sometimes, most of the times, hurt you, she would somehow find herself offended. It's just always been that way, and that's why you don't like spending too much time at home with your family anymore.

It was the same today, your mom made some inappropriate comment that threw you off balance and it just all came together and became too much for you. You missed Lando, so you retreated to your room and started crying quietly longing for his warm comforting hug. Lando seemed to sense that you needed him because not long after tears started to fall down your face, your phone rang showing his name on the screen.

You quickly wiped your tears trying to hide that you were crying knowing it would upset Lando before you answered.

"Hey, baby" You spoke, sniffling a little.

"How's my most beautiful girl in the world?"

"I'm fine, I'll be even better when I see you." Your eyes water and you sniffle again.

"Baby, are you crying?" Lando notices immediately.

"I'm not.."

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asks worriedly. "Turn on the camera, let me see you."

"I'm okay, don't worry. I'm just a little emotional that's all."

"Can you please turn on the camera? I want to see you." He pleads.

You hesitate for a second, but when he asks you so tenderly, you really can't say no.

"Hey" You smile at him, but your red eyes betray your sadness.

"My baby..what’s goin on?"

"It's nothing, I'm just tired of being home and I can't wait to be with you again."

"I'm getting on a plane tomorrow and I'm coming to pick you up." You expected this from him and that's why you didn't even want him to know you were crying because you didn't want to disturb his family time at home.

"No, no! We're both flying to Spain in two days anyway so I'll survive until then, don't worry." You reassure him because you definitely planned to spend the New Year's together in Spain.

"I know, but I don't want you to spend a single second sad, especially not during the holidays. I can't sit still at home knowing that you're crying miles away from me."

"Don't worry, love, I'm fine, you already know how it goes during the holidays at my house."

"I really want this to be the last year we're not together for Christmas. Next year, I don't care if anyone gets mad, but next year on Christmas Eve I want us to be together in our home in front of our Christmas tree and under our blanket. I'm tired of being miles away from the person I love most in the world on such special days of the year."

"I know, baby, I want that too more than anything, but-"

"No but's, no, I know what you're going to say and I don't wanna hear it. You're my priority and I want you to be next to me at all times." He says and you sigh knowing it's easier said than done. "Baby, one day we'll have our own family and we'll most definitely want to spend Christmas at our home with our kids, and then later come everyone else. And I want it to be like that next year as well, you and I at our home for Christmas, and then we go and visit our families together. Okay?"

His words brought a smile to your face and warmth around your heart already fantasizing about what it could be like next year. You wanted it more than anything. You and him. Together.

"Okay, baby. I want that too and I honestly think that's the only right way."

"It is. No more crying, okay?" He says and you nod. "Ugh, I wanna kiss you so bad right now” Lando sighs tilting his head and looking at you with nothing but pure love.

"Trust me, you won't be able to get rid of me in two days."

"Baby, in two days, I'm not letting you out of my arms anymore."

[ihavenoideahowtodream]

My bio father is on the board of directors for one of these in Kentucky, at one point being the head of it.

- My father was grossed out by mine, my sister's, and our mother's periods

- on the morning i was born he told my mother she would keep having kids till she gave him a son. I have known this most of my life.

- him and my mother are terrified that my birth control will make me infertile, and therefore will not have the ability to be a mother (also my phone on my stomach Will send radio waves to my uterus to make me infertile. Adoption is not the same as having bio kids)

- led the purity culture programs in all of the churches we were in

- the only present i got from them on my 13th birthday was a purity ring

- are generally homophobic and transphobic

- one day he came home from the PCC excited because after over a decade of the center being operational they were finally financially able to begin the process of hiring a part time RN

- if a pregnant person/new parent comes in they make them "earn" the things they give out for "free": diapers, baby formula, baby clothes, and if they are well funded then mom might get vitamins and nursing clothes with a huge emphasis on nursing modestly. They earn by sitting through videos and devotions and other propaganda. Similar to that clockwork orange (book) scene, except the thing that keeps the parent coming back is the need to feed/clothe their kid. There are strict limits on what a parent can get. Like seriously its maybe a days worth of supplies for the kid.

- he doesn't have any medical training. My siblings and I rarely went to the doctor as kids. (Sister had a headache from tooth pain for six months ma said it was just her period. It was a cavity that fell out in 4 pieces after a root canal. Also periods aren't supposed to give anyone six months headaches)

- i didn't get the gardasil vaccine till almost 30yo cause they were convinced it would make me infertile. I actually never got any vaccines after 3rd grade cause thats when they fell to the antivaxers. They would prefer you have a dead kid to an autistic kid. My adhd ass and my brother's autistic ass can confirm.

- this clinic thinks my parents are one of the best things that has happened to the Pregnancy "Care" Center. Their strong leadership and conviction has saved thousands of babies (they don't keep up with the children and parents after the kid is 6 mo old usually.)

Even as a young teen i thought it was super weird that they didn't have nurses at least on staff or a doctor.

Conclusion: every one of these places should be shut down by the FDA and CDC and you should disrupt their "walks for life" and "choose life banquets" (their two largest fundraisers)

They are destroying people's lives and preying on people in their most vulnerable state. They especially feel the conviction to encourage teenagers to keep the children saying that god will find a way to help their kid survive.

Anyway if i ever raise kids they will never know and I got new parents who's sex ed beyond the general birds and bees consists of "condoms and consent" my dad now keeps telling me i need to go to a dyke bar and get laid.

Pregnant crisis/care centers are a poison in our society. Stay away from them.

Is anyone else just... exhausted?

[replicafatale]

Just realized that Drifter never needed to use transference on Lettie when saving the Hex because her fate is so intertwined with Eleanor's survival.

Eleanor rips out her own tongue to save not only herself but Lettie... to show Lettie that she's always been "here" and is more than the technocyte. The first thing Lettie says in 1999 is how they need to cut off Eleanor in order to "cauterize a wound" because of the extent of Eleanor's infection, and yet Lettie hesitates the second she's faced with the real prospect of killing Eleanor, cementing her own death.

Lettie can't let Eleanor go no matter how much she tells herself she needs to. She's compartmentalized the death and disease of her loved ones for years both as a field medic and taking care of her dying relatives growing up. She expects this to be no different. Lettie suppresses her affection for Eleanor over months and months, pushing her away, only for it to bubble up twice as strong at the end.

"Making sure you're still... you," comes WAY too late for it to make a difference. Eleanor is already completely consumed by the technocyte. By her own loneliness. A longing for acceptance that only comes from the infested after Lettie abandons their relationship.

It kills her. It kills them both.

In the next loop, after Drifter uses transference, Eleanor's last attempt to remind Lettie how much Eleanor cares for her is what saves them both the second time around. How they were "thick as thieves for a while" (Eleanor's words), and how even months of indifference didn't erode that sentiment.

They always end up in each other's arms whether they're dying together at the bottom of an infested substation or curled up on the sofa in the backrooms eating pizza. They are literally inseparable and eternally fated to live and die together no matter the loop. im fine

[billloveshushu]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟏, 𝐏𝐫𝐭 𝟏,𝟐━ 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲.

✦━━ ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕔 𝔹𝕒𝕥𝕗𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝕩 𝔹𝕒𝕓𝕪𝕆ℂ.

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˚✧˙ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ━━ A baby was rescued by Batman on one of his missions, feeling responsible, Bruce decided to adopt her. But the question is that the baby knew she was in the comic book world, not knowing how to react or why, will she survive in this traumatized family?

✦ ( "" ) Thoughts ( ━ ) Dialogue ✦

English is not my original language, the translation was done by Google Translate, só sorry for any spelling mistakes.

Only two days have passed since that night, the baby is still amazed at how much has changed in such a short time, especially Bruce, she knows he is quite busy with his duties as Batman and playboy Bruce Wayne so it wouldn't be surprising if he doesn't show up at the mansion every day, but somehow now he always finds time to spend with her even though in that time he learns how to take care of a baby, she still laughs when she remembers that day.

Bruce's hands were shaking as he held her, he was so focused that it seemed like he was dealing with a time bomb, and Alfred was by his side teaching him how to hold a baby without hurting him, the baby looked at the man who is the biggest nightmare of all Gotham criminals and started to laugh.

She was laughing and mocking Bruce, but in his vision it was different, he only saw a baby smiling and letting out sweet laughs with her pink cheeks. It seemed like a sun that warmed his insides, illuminating him with each laugh that came out and Bruce without realizing the corner of his lip rose.

From then on, Bruce didn't need much help from Alfred since he learned quickly, so his sense of overprotection began to grow. Every time he held her in his arms, he realized how much more fragile and defenseless she was. She wasn't like his other children. She wasn't trained from the beginning for combat and she wasn't super intelligent. She was just a regular baby. That's why Bruce stayed around the baby, even if it was through the mansion's cameras, and he regularly found himself worried about her, often calling Alfred to ask how she was.

Besides the fact that she is weaker compared to other babies, because in the orphanage where she lived, which was actually a front and a place for human trafficking, the children did not receive the necessary care and most of the time they went hungry, Bruce felt his veins pulsate just thinking about it, there is also the lack of records, he tried in many ways to find information about her birth or parental records but found nothing, so it was obvious, they planned to traffic her.

He regrets not beating up those drug dealers more, which is why Bruce had to resort to DNA testing to at least find out her ethnicity. Barbara applied to help and said it would take at least two days for the results. Meanwhile, Bruce prepared the other arrangements for the baby; this week would be quite long.

Then on the second day something strange happened, that day the baby tried to imagine what her past life was like, was she happy? What was her childhood like? Did she have parents? What was she like as an adult? And most importantly, how did she die...?

These questions had been going around her head all day, so that night, the baby tried so hard to remember more memories that she ended up falling asleep in the process, then she had a disturbing dream. She couldn't feel anything and all she saw was an immense darkness, it wasn't scary but rather sad and melancholic, it was nothing but darkness until in the sky she saw a little red dot, which gradually turned into a drop that fell to the center.

Then everything changed, she realized that it wasn't just a red drop... It was blood. It spread like a virus, the intense color shone in the place, she no longer felt sadness, she felt anger, a deep hatred but she had other feelings, fear... anguish that suffocated her, that trapped her in this red hell.

Like blood...

The baby woke up desperate, she was sobbing and short of breath, but she could still feel... those overwhelming emotions eating away at her flesh, her tears ran down her cheeks, she wanted to scream, get someone's attention, but she couldn't, as if it was registered in her body to suffer alone.

"Someone.. Ah... Please... Help!" he thought as his shortness of breath worsened.

At that moment Bruce was returning from patrol and heading towards his room, until he heard a sob and looked back realizing that the noise was coming from the baby's room, he immediately ran towards the noise, frustrated by the distance from his room, when he arrived and opened the door he was able to hear more clearly, they were small sniffles and a contained sob.

If he wasn't a person trained to hear the slightest noises he wouldn't have even noticed, getting closer he saw a distressed little baby with tears running down his face that was red trying to breathe heavily, Bruce quickly shouted calling Alfred and tried somehow to find what was wrong.

He gently picked up the baby feeling even more distressed, she wasn't crying like a normal baby, who screams and makes a fuss if something is bothering her, she was curled up like a shell letting out only small sobs and her mouth was tightly closed with only her tears coming out.

Bruce checked to see if any part of her body was hurt until he realized that she was holding her breath━ No no, please breathe! ━ he held her little head as he desperately tried to make her breathe.

Amidst so many tears, the baby managed to see Bruce's face blurry, who was desperate, seeing that someone was at his side to help, her breathing began to return slowly, her mouth opened and closed trying to make some sound, she stretched out her arms towards Bruce, touching his face and becoming calmer.

Bruce caressed her little hand and said ━ It's okay, I'm here ━ He wiped her tears and hugged her to his chest, lightly patting her back. Alfred soon appeared, out of breath from having run. With him were the boxes of medicine.

After taking her temperature, Alfred said that she had a fever but that it wasn't serious and that she just needed to take some medicine. Bruce was confused. How could it not be serious?! He saw her losing her breath as if she was in extreme pain. Bruce told this to Alfred, who was extremely worried and recommended that the doctor's appointment be rescheduled for tomorrow. Bruce agreed and looked at the room. It was a decent room but it showed his neglect of her at the beginning. It was far from his main room and he was completely unprepared in case something like what happened today happened.

Bruce turned to Alfred━ She will sleep with me tonight this place is not safe━ Alfred was surprised but did not disagree━ What are you planning sir?

━ I'm going to renovate the room closest to mine, and I'm going to install the security system in it━ the baby they thought was sleeping on Bruce's shoulder looked at him with wide eyes " what!? "

"Wait a minute! I know today was tense, but it's not that bad!!"

She looked at Alfred desperately "You don't agree with this nonsense, do you!?" and breaking her expectations Alfred said━ I completely agree, Sir.

The baby with her puffy cheeks looking like a pufferfish while drinking her liquid medicine thought "It's not fair..." Bruce couldn't help but pinch her cheeks as the baby slapped his hand away in irritation.

The next day it happened exactly as Bruce said, the baby spent the night in his room, she slept peacefully on his chest as if nothing had happened, he on the other hand, couldn't sleep and spent the whole night worried about her, and sometimes he just watches her sleeping perhaps envying her for her peace.

It was only in the morning that Bruce managed to sleep, but he was soon woken up by Alfred opening the curtains. He saw the baby already awake playing with his hand. He kissed her on the forehead and got up. The people Bruce had hired to do the renovations soon appeared. He comforted Alfred by saying that they were trustworthy people.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, Alfred answered it and came back accompanied by a woman in a wheelchair, she was beautiful and wore glasses, her hair was red and she was carrying a purse, she greeted Bruce and looked around as if she were looking for something, then her eyes shone when she found the baby.

" Bárbara Gordon?! " the baby was surprised by the woman who approached, it wasn't every day that she met the esteemed Barbara Gordon, daughter of Commissioner Gordon, the iconic Batgirl herself and one of the most intelligent people in DC, while thinking the baby suddenly felt in the air and realized that she was now in Barbara's lap.

Barbara was smiling beautifully ━ Good morning princess ━ ​​she said and kissed the baby's cute little cheeks who blushed, Barbara already knew her? But she doesn't remember meeting her.

The baby doesn't know, but when Bruce wanted to do the DNA test Barbara decided to come personally to collect the samples, but she was curious about the new child that Bruce adopted, when she found out that it was a baby she thought the decision was irresponsible, taking care of a baby is difficult and more dangerous with the lives of Punishers that they lead, the proof of this is her legs, the memory of the attack was still engraved in her mind.

Thinking that this could happen to a baby irritated her.

And when she arrived at the mansion she planned to leave quickly, that's when she saw her, Alfred showed the sleeping baby in the nursery so it was easier to get the sample, Barbara found her appearance quite rare, especially her red hair, she acted carefully so as not to wake her up and collected a bit of her beard, when she was going to take her hand away the baby grabbed one of her fingers probably thinking it was one of her stuffed animals.

Barbara stopped and watched the baby hugging her hand, her little cheeks around her transferring their warmth to her cold palm, Barbara couldn't help but find this very cute, it somehow eased her fleeting anger, realizing that this adoption can't be that bad.

That day Barbara felt comforted.

Now Barbara noticed that she had smeared the baby's face with her lipstick, she laughed nervously and wiped the baby's face with a tissue until she heard a dry cough behind her, she slowly turned to receive Bruce with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow ━It seems like someone woke up in a bad mood today━ she commented as she looked at Bruce's messy appearance.

He sighed━ Did you come to play with my daughter or hand over the documents I lost ━ he held out his hand waiting for the file, Barbara snorted━ It's here, you bore!━ she said taking the folder out of her bag and handing it over.

━ Isn't he annoying, baby?━ She asked the baby who raised his arms trying to grab the locks of her hair. Barbara laughed when she saw the baby enchanted with her hair. ━ Yes, dear, you're not the only redhead in this house ━ The baby managed to grab one of the locks and smiled, showing her dimples. Barbara felt her heart melt at the sight and couldn't hold back and kissed her little face even more.

Bruce sat in an armchair as he read the files. Through the sample, he discovered that the baby's ethnicity is Latin, her parents were probably immigrants and had the bad luck of falling into the wrong hands. He flipped through the pages and found nothing else of interest ━ Didn't you find anything else? ━ Barbara shook her head. ━ Unfortunately not, it's as if she never existed.

━ Hunn ━ he put his hand on his chin, that was impossible, the batcomputer had access to thousands of pieces of information, both confidential and public, not having even his parents' information was suspicious. While Bruce was thinking, Alfred appeared with a tray containing coffee and a bottle, he left the tray on a table and politely asked for Barbara's baby, who complained a little but let him, and he took her to another room, she looked back at Bruce ━ I heard what happened, Alfred told me, I'm glad she's okay ━ Bruce nodded ━ I'm taking her to the hospital today, I hope it's nothing serious.

━ You haven't given her a name yet, have you?

━...

━Bruce!!

He sighed━ I don't want to give her just any name, I want it to be special, with a meaning, that reminds her of her origins━ he shook the papers in his hand━ This might help, thank you very much Barbara.

She gave a small smile ━ No problem, but what about the others? You know it won't be long before they find out about her, I think even Tim already knows.

Bruce drank the coffee that Alfred left ━ Don't worry, I'll introduce her at the family dinner, until then I ask you not to tell anyone, and about Tim, he won't tell or simply doesn't care ━the family dinner, an occasion that Alfred plans every month, with the purpose of bringing the family together, even if it's a disaster with the frequent fights or an absurd silence that could even hear the flies buzzing.

For the first time Bruce found this meeting useful.

━ Oh yeah, I almost forgot ━ she turned on the TV at the exact moment the newspaper was on, Bruce was about to ask until the girl on television spoke━ Breaking news, apparently historians have discovered more about the greatest mystery in history, the Red Empress.

The newspaper continued talking about this, the red empress, a historical phenomenon that is a mystery to this day, whose existence was only discovered through reports from other countries, is considered a symbol of freedom and hope since it was through her that slavery in her country ended.

To reinforce the title historical mystery, not even her name was discovered and there was even a time when they thought she was a man, and her 'nickname' came through a report from a king who described her as having vibrant red hair, not even this was confirmed with certainty.

━ It's impressive, isn't it? Even after so many years we still know little about her ━ Barbara commented, Bruce never really paid attention to this subject, but he had to admit that it was fascinating.

Then Barbara had to leave, she had to take care of some unfinished business, the baby had a sad look as the woman left, she just wanted to spend more time with Barbara ━ Ó╭╮Ò ━ seeing the baby's eyes shining Bruce kissed her on the head━ No need to cry, you'll see her soon.

Soon the appointment time arrived, Bruce dressed in his usual casual suit and as the baby was wearing a pink jumpsuit and was wrapped like a taco, Bruce didn't want her to get sick again on the way. He took her to see Dr. Leslie Thompkins, even with their misunderstandings and fights in the past Bruce couldn't deny that Leslie is one of the best doctors he has ever known and at least she is a trustworthy person to take care of a baby.

Waiting in a private room at the hospital, the baby looked and recognized the old lady who opened the door, being one of Batman's old allies but for some reason she couldn't remember her name.

━ Good afternoon Dr. Leslie, and good to see you again ━ Bruce greeted her with a handshake, "Oh yes! That's her name! Leslie didn't appear that much in the comics, maybe that's why I forgot her name"

━ I'm glad to see you too Bruce━ she looked at the baby ━ Was that the child you rescued?━ Bruce nodded and she sighed.

━ I saw the news and read about her case, it really was a miracle, but today is not the day of her treatment, what happened? ━ Bruce told about what happened and also reported about the slight fever she had last night, she said she was going to do some tests and see if there was anything wrong.

Leslie took the stethoscope off the baby's back━ There's nothing wrong with her, but maybe I have a theory about it━ she pulled out some papers showing an x-ray of a head━ From what I saw the most concentrated injuries were on the head and maybe because of that some trauma arose.

She pointed to some spots in the photo explaining that some were not yet healed and others needed extensive treatment, the baby saw Bruce's hands close into a fist after Leslie spoke of the injuries, so she placed her little hand on top which Bruce responded by squeezing them making the baby laugh, Bruce gave a small smile to the side forgetting his anger.

Leslie stopped for a moment when she saw this scene. It was rare to see Bruce so emotional. She hadn't seen this side of him since her parents died. She shook her head, pushing her thoughts away, and continued her explanation. In the end, she decided to do some tests with Bruce's permission, and most of them were about locomotion and intellect, like playing with a brick cube and fitting it in the right place, or moving her arms and feathers when the doctor asked her to.

The baby put the last cube in place and Leslie wrote it down in her notebook and she turned to Bruce who was in the background watching━ The test went normally, there were no peculiarities━ Bruce sighed in relief.

"But of course, I had to pretend to be wrong on purpose so they wouldn't suspect me." The baby knows that faking the test is wrong, but if they knew about her having an adult conscience or that she knows that this world is made of comics, there's no knowing what will happen to her if they find out, so it's better not to risk it.

━ Since we didn't find anything wrong, the injuries probably don't affect her now but they could affect her in the future, so stay tuned ━ Leslie said as Bruce picked up the baby from the floor, if there's nothing wrong then what was that? Was it really just a nightmare? But would a nightmare cause such a reaction? Then he asked Leslie ━ Can this leave psychological trauma? Cause some kind of anxiety?

Leslie replied ━ She's very young so she can forget what happened, and that's good, she won't carry that trauma with her for the rest of her life ━ Bruce agreed and caressed the baby's face, looking into her eyes, it really is good news, the last thing he wants to see is this little angel suffer and lose the sparkle in her eyes.

In the end, the doctor prescribed some medicine if this happens again, but asked Bruce to wait a little while to talk━ I'm glad you entrusted her to me, but dare I ask, do you plan on making her-

━ No ━ Bruce interrupted her knowing what she was going to ask ━ I don't plan any of that for her, you don't need to worry about it.

She smiled and caressed the baby's face━ She is special Bruce, she was a warrior for surviving in those circumstances.

Bruce looked at the baby━ I know ━ and kissed her cheek━ She's a little ray of sunshine.

Three days have passed and the renovation of the baby's room is still not finished. Alfred even put a temporary nursery in Bruce's room, worried that the baby would start to depend on him to sleep, and she was shocked. "Alfred! It's not me you should be worried about, it's him!!!" she thought, pointing to Bruce. Not that she was complaining, Bruce's chest was a wonderful pillow but it was very tiring. Every time she slept in the nursery, Bruce woke her up in the middle of the night to sleep with him.

Apparently this is part of one of his overprotective paranoias, with her in his arms he can hear her heartbeat and protect her, this is comforting to him, even Alfred noticed that Bruce was sleeping well lately and he was quite happy about it, he doesn't even remember how much of a lecture he gave Bruce about his terrible sleeping habits talking about how a good night's sleep could be good for your health, but if he knew it was because of the baby he wouldn't be so happy.

The day started with the baby being woken up by Bruce kissing her forehead, she grunted trying to push him away because she was ticklish, he let out a little laugh and hugged her ━ Good morning sweetie ━ and got up to get ready while the baby tried to stay awake.

Alfred came and got the baby ready for breakfast and Bruce had to go to work to resolve some negotiations. In the kitchen, Alfred fed the baby a mixture of milk and medicine, as recommended by the doctor, since the medicine was too bitter for a baby.

Then Alfred took the baby for a walk in the garden, over time this became a pastime between Alfred and the baby, he showed her the flowers in the garden and enjoyed the calm and cozy time together, the baby in Alfred's arms looked at the beauty of the garden until she realized that in the background there was a vegetable garden.

The baby tugged on Alfred's sleeve and pointed to the vegetable garden, wondering what it was. ━ Oh, little miss, this is the vegetable garden your brother and I made together. ━ he said, coming closer and showing some freshly cleaned vegetables.

The baby tilted her head in confusion, "Brother? Which brother?" She approached a plant and realized something, "That's just like Damian. Even though he's an angry guy, he has very calm hobbies." She loved the fact that Damian likes to draw and is an animal lover to the point of becoming a vegan. It's no wonder he's her favorite Robin, even though he's annoying.

━Master Damian liked to water them early in the morning━ Alfred, even smiling, looked sad ━But now he's too busy for that...━ Alfred turned towards the mansion and the baby looked at the vegetable garden behind his shoulder.

Alfred had to do his job so he had to place the baby around several pillows in the living room, soon the baby got bored and moved uncomfortably, she hated being a baby and always being stuck in one place just waiting for someone to come by and ask for help so she could just get up.

She watched her little feet dangling and thought, "What if I try to stand up?" So she tried her best to get into a sitting position, but then she fell flat on her stomach on the couch, panting and sweating. "Wow! Just moving around made me so tired!"

So she gave up and took the opportunity to lie down on the couch, not knowing that someone was watching her through the cameras. Bruce, who was in a minimally boring meeting, took the opportunity to check the baby on the cameras on his cell phone and saw her get up, fall on her stomach on the couch and fall asleep. He had to hold himself back from laughing in the middle of the meeting.

At night, Alfred, after feeding her, gave her a bath and changed her clothes, putting on bunny-shaped pajamas. He had white fur with pink gloves and shoes and a hood with bunny ears and a bow.

This time it wasn't Alfred who bought it, it was Bruce who saw it in a shopping mall window and bought it almost automatically thinking it would look cute on the baby. After taking a photo, Alfred wrapped the baby in a blanket and sat in an armchair with her on his lap to read a story.

Just a second later the baby was already yawning with her eyes watering, Alfred noticed and quickly put her in the nursery, saying goodnight and giving her a kiss on the forehead, then he turned off the light and left Bruce's room.

The baby, as her eyes were about to close, lamented, thinking that she would soon be woken up by a certain person.

The next morning she woke up shocked realizing that she was still in the nursery, no one woke her up in the middle of the night and that meant that Bruce wasn't here, she should have been happy that he didn't disturb her but the opposite happened, in fact she was extremely worried.

Was he so hurt that he couldn't come? Or was he kidnapped by one of his enemies and is being terribly tortured? There were so many possibilities and situations that Batman could be in, that the baby was crying and let out a small cry calling Alfred's attention who came quickly.

In the butler's arms she let out grunts, pointing to the bed clearly asking where Bruce was, Alfred seeing this let out a small laugh and wiped her small tears with his thumb ━ Don't worry little one, I'll take you to Mr. Bruce ━ Alfred took her out of the room and walked through the corridor to the last door where Bruce's office was.

" Hun? He spent the night there, but why?"

Alfred knocked on the door but no one answered, he knocked again but again no answer, then he opened the door finding Bruce with glasses totally focused on a book and with other books around, you could see that he didn't sleep last night with his dark circles and tired look on his face.

Alfred coughed, attracting Bruce's attention, who finally looked up to see the two at the door. He sighed tiredly, taking off his glasses and pinching his eyebrows with a headache. He asked for the baby and Alfred handed it over ━ I never thought choosing a name would be so difficult ━ He caressed the baby's face, who was clearly angry with her eyebrows raised. Bruce looked at Alfred in confusion, asking for answers.

━ The little lady is upset because she couldn't find you this morning ━ Bruce gave a small smile and kissed the baby's cheeks apologizing "That's a lie! I was just worried" but she quickly forgave him now knowing that he did it thinking about her name.

Bruce showed the names to Alfred, most of them were from Latin America so that she would remember her origins but so far nothing pleased him, while they talked about looking for other names, the baby looked at the page of the book that Bruce was holding.

She looked through some names until one caught her attention, "Suyana..." somehow that name seemed familiar to her, as if a voice sounded in her mind, it was a soft voice calling her, she without realizing it placed her hand on the page attracting the attention of Bruce and Alfred.

Bruce held her and looked at the sheet finding the name she was pointing to━ Suyana, meaning hope in the Quechua language of South America ━ he thought the name suited her, hope... something he didn't imagine he would have in his life but now...

Alfred added, ━The meaning fits little miss, don’t you think, Mister Bruce?━ Bruce nodded, ━You’re right, and it’s quite unique like her.

━Did you like your name? Suyana━ the baby smiled happily, she finally had a name, she buried herself in Bruce's arms who hugged her too, she put her ear to his chest listening to his heartbeat, understanding now why Bruce likes that, it was relaxing to know that someone was by her side.

Bruce kissed her on the forehead but the baby pushed him away uncomfortable, he suddenly rubbed his chin realizing the problem ━ I should start cutting my beard.

Continued...

About the tag list, I don't know how to do it, so put in the comments who wants to be tagged in the next chapter. That way it'll be easier for me.🙂

Taglist : @fantasyhopperhea @daddysfangirls-dc @cruzerforce4256 @mallowryblog @ jsprien213 @kore-of-the-underworld @bookwarm0-0 @nxdxsworld​

[fairycoures]

a little very self indulgent, but intimacy struggles with simon riley.

18+ minors do not interact — very vague descriptions of thoughts and negative past experiences with the topic of sex. nothing extremely detailed.

this was written with very little sleep and i've never written for the fandom before so let's see how this goes. also not written with a specific gender in mind but may lean more towards feminine i have not proofread this.

something about the beginning of the relationship, everything is fresh, all those feelings are new and neither wants to shatter that porcelain figure of perfection that this has all felt like so far. kissing, the bits of physical intimacy shared here and there, but nothing past light makeout sessions that always seem to get interrupted by the buzzing of simon’s phone for one reason or another.

the thing is, you could go past that. the barrier that divides the delicate from the ravenous, feral underbelly waiting beneath heated touches when things start to get heavier. but ironically, it’s for the same reason that both you and simon are utterly terrified of even bringing that up.

in simon’s mind, he doesn’t want to damage you. you’re the bloody fucking sun, and what is he? scarred hands that can never truly wash away all the blood, all the things he’s done in his life. how could he be the one to taint one as pure as you?

not to mention, it’s already set in stone that you’re going to run off once the novelty fades. once the idea of having this big, strong shadow always lurking, always protecting. always terrified that you’re the next thing that he’s going to have to lose. every little thing like yourself always dreams of having someone like him until they actually get him. once the honeymoon phase fades and you inevitably realize how damaged he is.

and if he lets you in, if he brings down those walls and grants you a side of himself that he doesn’t even show around his bloody team—the ones who have been by his side through so, so much—and then you leave? he’s already been torn to pieces time and time again and survived. he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to live a life without you in it if he lets you see behind the mask.

it would ruin him.

and you.

you, who have had awful countless experiences with men where, every time you show that side of yourself, the side who isn’t all pretty and perfect and wants to be ruined and put back together with gentle hands. every time things get into sex, they never come back from that.

every conversation has to be turned into a scenario. what were once sweet, affectionate words turn to the sole focus being your body. those rose-colored glasses come right off and you realize that yet again you’ve given your time to someone who was just holding off on showing you that the only thing he cares about is what you can do for him in the bedroom. how good you can make him feel. it was never about you.

simon has been all you knew you needed and everything you couldn’t have fathomed. even with the leaves, the inability to contact him on missions except for rare moments where he can get a cell reception, even with the way the man so far has showed very little of his past to you, it’s never mattered. he has made you feel seen in a way that no one has ever come close to doing.

and if it all turns out to be a facade, you don’t know if your heart could take that type of hurt.

neither of you wants to cross that line for fear of being left, of being hurt, and it’s not like you don’t want each other because god you do. who wouldn’t want simon? the man has arms as thick as tree trunks and thighs to match, he’s built like a brick house and the voice on that man is enough to make your head turn to warm syrup, warmth pooling between your thighs. and who wouldn’t want you? you’re an angel sent down to earth, sent to either bless or curse simon because with the way you plague his every thought, he has to wonder which is which.

but it’s also so much more than that for both of you, it’s just that it’s so bloody hard to look past what has been into what could be.

[tuttle-did-it]

I've spent almost 40 years giving her many, many chances. She could have been completely removed from the majority of episodes and they would barely change.

Yes, that's a general failure of TNG in particular, but especially for Troi. Nearly every one of her storylines revolved around with whom she was fucking. The show never took her seriously, the show never allowed her to turn into anyone more than that, and that's is a terrible thing.

But they had many similar storylines for Tasha and Crusher, cos sexist writers. But I cared about Tasha. I was devastated when Tasha died. I cared about Beverly. Beverly was the primary reason I continued to watch the show. Gates and Denise managed to imbue their roles with something more. Something beyond the sexist stories and four words they were allowed to say. Because, frankly, I think they were far better actors than Marina. All three women had way too many moments where they were over-sexualised. They all deserved so much more. But Beverly and Tasha managed to move beyond that, for me. Because of Gates and Denise. And Troi never did.

There are a handful of episodes where Troi is significant-- that don't include her in lingerie. Where her existence matters to the story and I vaguely care if she is in the story. Maybe one or two where I cared if she was in the room. But for the most part, I couldn't have cared less if they killed her character off when they killed Tasha. In fact, I probably would have been happy about it. And almost nothing would change except a very cringy romance with Worf that never should have happened.

As far as I'm concerned, Troi was a cringy character who only *started* to get a personality was when she was forced into a Starfleet uniform by Jericho and started to have any ambition or... anything of value to offer. Yes, it helped that she was less sexualised in these episodes, but at least she started to do... something. Something besides saying 'well what do you think?' And 'how did that make you feel?' And telling the captain that a screaming person in the view-screen was 'angry.' So glad we have a betazoid. Thanks. Could have never known the screaming alien was angry or the Romulans were untrustworthy.

After nearly 40 years of watching ad nausea, I just couldn't get the energy to care about her. And I still cannot. I have rewatched TNG dozens and dozens of times. I've tried to like her. I've tried. I've tried to care about her. But more times than not, I honestly wish she was not in the show. I think the majority of the episodes would have been better without her there.

I have nothing against Marina, and I think she did as much as she could with the nothing she was given. But I don't think she was a strong enough actress to layer the character with more the way Gates and Denise did. The way Michelle Forbes did for Ro Laren. Or hell-- even the way Diana Muldaur did for Pulaski. You know, I knew more about Pulaski, And liked her 10x more in her single season than I ever cared about Troi in her 7 years plus movies plus Picard. Same with Ro. The vast majority of the time Troi was on screen, I wished it was any other character because she was almost as annoying her mother. If I could have traded to keep Ro and get rid of Troi, I wouldn't even think twice. Or Pulaski to drop Troi.

I'm glad you like Troi. Keep liking Troi. We can all agree all the women on the show deserved so much more. I am glad she has defenders, and I'm glad she has people who see her value. But I'm never going to come around on her. I'm never going to care if she is there. There are episodes where I dislike her less. And even a few where I don't care if she is there. But I cannot think of a single episode where I enjoyed her, was glad her she was there, or felt anything for her character more than annoyance or just downright dislike. And's especially if her life was in peril, not a single episode where I cared or hoped she would survive.

Again-- I am glad she has defenders, and I'm glad you enjoy her. Yay! Honestly, I really do-- not being sarcastic. But after dozens of rewatched-- maybe hundreds-- I just cannot care about her.

Oh-- PS- Picard made me hate her so much more. In fact, it made me hate all of them so much that I never want to watch TNG again. But I was apoplectic when they fridged Ro Laren. As in, I can never forgive them. Troi? Couldn't have cared less if they'd killed her.

star trek characters will literally go through the most life changing traumatic multidimensional extrasensory eldritch hell torture imaginable and then they're fine and the next episode they gotta deal with a guy who is bald

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

still fresh l Joel Miller

Summary: another expedition in search of supplies, this time with company

Warnings:  fluff, maybe a little bit of jealousy, two infected, a few shots, generally boring

A/N: I'm trying to use my days off. sorry if I'm boring.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"You should be more careful."

Shane winced as you pressed the alcohol pad to the palm of his hand. The large cut had stopped bleeding, but it still needed a bandage.

"You have very delicate hands." he murmured, smiling at you.

"Thank you." you reached into your backpack for a bandage. "Maybe we can do without stitches."

"I think I could survive if you did it."

Someone cleared his throat loudly and you both raised your heads. Joel stood over you with a rifle slung over his back, looking around the area.

"We should go now." he mumbled, frowning.

"I'm almost done." you replied, tying a bandage on Shane's hand.

Everything was still fresh. Not only Shane's wound, but you and Joel as well. 

It had only been a few days and you had already gone on patrol together. You had the impression that you were getting along better than before, but when Tommy asked Walsh to accompany you to check out buildings outside your normal area, you saw Joel's face darken.

Shane walked ahead and now he was directing you to the indicated location. The area was peaceful and the sun was pleasantly warming.

"I don't like it when he looks at you that way."

You turned around and looked at Joel walking next to you.

"And how does he look?"

"Oh, don't pretend you don't see." he sneered, raising his eyebrows. "I probably looked the same way."

"You're not looking anymore?"

"That's not- That's not what I mean." Joel snorted and you giggled.

Your fingers found his, much larger than yours, and intertwined. Everything was still fresh. Even though you had known each other for a long time, you had the impression that you were learning each other all over again.

It wasn't just about sleeping in the same bed, because that seemed almost natural to you, but about being together on a completely new, emotional level.

Joel felt like he was learning everything all over again, he had the feeling that you saw his helplessness and it scared him, but your presence was soothing. 

And God, he loved your closeness. Not just in bed, when you were lying close, or when you made love, savoring each other's bodies, but also in everyday activities. Just coming home and thinking that someone was waiting for him - he missed it.

You rummaged through cabinets and drawers, looking for something valuable, something that could be useful at the clinic in Jackson.

"I've got some bandages."

Shane threw you a bundle, and you quickly stuffed it into your bag.

"Needles would be good. Or syringes." You mumbled, opening another drawer. "Or some antibiotics. I'll take anything."

Shane peered into one of the drawers. "Dead mouse?"

"No thanks." You laughed. "But I appreciate the effort. Where's Joel?"

"They're checking the room in the back."

You nodded and looked around at the empty cabinets. You didn't find much, but you didn't want to give up so easily.

"I think I saw a sign for the storage room." You said.

"Yeah, I passed it. Do you want to go there?"

"Maybe we'll find something."

The pharmacy building you entered was quiet and peaceful. Too quiet and too peaceful. Years of experience told you that if nothing bad was waiting for you in the first room, it was definitely lurking in the last. 

You adjusted your grip on your gun and followed Shane. You could count on him. Joel knew you were safe with this man and no matter what he said or think about Shane, he couldn't deny it - Walsh knew what he was doing.

The heavy door creaked but opened smoothly. Dim light shone through the windows placed high under the ceiling, the shelves were already cleared out, but there were still many packages lying on the ground.

"What a fucking mess." he muttered, pushing a container with his shoe. "Ready for a shopping spree, sweetie?"

You smirked and entered the first aisle. After a few minutes, you already had some antibiotics and penicillin, gauze and a few more bandages in your hands.

"Painkillers!" Shane threw a few boxes your way.

Your bag was slowly filling up. You stood up and adjusted it on your shoulder, then glanced at another door in the back.

"Maybe they have medical equipment there." You said, Shane looked at you from behind the shelves.

"Be careful."

You touched the cold doorknob and gently pushed the door. The room was dark, there were no windows and you could barely see anything inside.

"And?"

"I think it's..."

A sharp screech almost paralyzed you. The silhouette of an infected man appeared from the darkness. You raised your gun, but when you took a step back you slipped on some empty packages and fell hard to the ground.

"Shit!"

A second monster appeared, they must have been hiding in the warehouse for a long time. You crawled as fast as you could, trying to reach your weapon.

"Hey, asshole!" Shane's scream distracted them and they stopped for a moment.

You noticed your gun lying under the cabinet and quickly crawled there. The first shot was fired and something fell to the ground with a thud.

"What the fuck!?!"

"Joel!"

Attracted by the noise, he ran into the warehouse and aimed at one of the infected. The shot was accurate and the creature's head splattered on the wall behind him.

Joel immediately looked at you and then at Shane, who was breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You nodded. Shane nodded as well, and then carefully entered the room the infected had come from.

"You should have waited for me." Joel said quietly, approaching you.

"They surprised me, but I'm fine. Look." You opened your bag. "Look how much I found."

"If you had paid for this with your life, it would have been worthless."

"I'm fine, really." You tried to smile, but it didn't seem to convince Joel because he just shook his head in helplessness.

That was Miller - caring and protective to the extreme. Ellie would sometimes remind him of that, but that was how he showed his feelings towards others. He knew you would handle it, but he preferred to keep an eye on you. Especially now, when it was all so fresh.

"Sweetheart?" Shane's call reached you from the dark room, and you immediately noticed the look Joel gave you - "Sweetheart?!"

"Do you have anything?" you asked, ignoring Joel's face.

"Yeah, something you really want."

When Shane brought out the containers with syringes and needles to you, you almost jumped for joy. It turned out that the two infected were good at deterring other snoopers from entering this part of the building, and you only gained from it. 

The bag you were carrying was full, and soon you put some of your things in Shane and Joel's backpacks too.

All of you wanted to get back to Jackson before nightfall so you just ate something in a hurry and set off. 

Joel looked at you as you walked ahead. What you found clearly improved your mood and despite your tiredness you walked briskly forward. He didn't even notice when Walsh caught up with him.

"That was a good day," he said.

Joel nodded "Yeah, it was."

They took a few steps in silence. Finally Shane cleared his throat.

"Listen, I like her." he said pointing at you walking in front of them "She's a great chick, if you know what I mean."

Joel knew, he knew perfectly well. However, he wasn't sure what Shane was getting at and decided not to say anything until he revealed all his cards.

"I know you're living together again so I assume you and her..."

"Mhmm." Joel grunted.

"You're lucky, you know that?" the man smiled "No offense, but if I didn't know she was totally into you, I wouldn't hesitate to steal her from you."

Joel still didn't say anything. His gaze went to you, you were adjusting the strap of the bag you had slung across your body.

"You have nothing to worry about, Miller. She's safe with me. I'm keeping an eye on her because I like her, that's all."

Joel cleared his throat. "Thanks for today." he finally said "If you weren't with her..."

Shane nodded and smiled "But I was, so don't think about it that much."

It was already late when you reached Jackson. You ate a late dinner at Tipsy Bison and feeling the whole past day on your shoulders, you went back to your place.

"I need a shower." you mumbled, taking off your jacket and shoes "Ellie's probably staying at her friend's again, huh?"

"Yeah, looks like it." Joel replied and before you could escape him he wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled into your back.

You sighed quietly and reached back to run your fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry..." you said quietly as warm lips brushed your neck "I'll be more careful next time."

"I know." he whispered in your ear, turned you around and put his forehead against yours "Damn, I've wanted to kiss you all day..."

"Oh, that's long!" you chuckled.

"Mhm. Too long."

You took his face in your hands. His beard tickled your skin pleasantly, his strong body pressed against yours. Maybe it was all still fresh, but you felt it was right.

You kissed his soft lips. You missed this too, all day.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

[candyskiez]

Remember when slay the princess said "it's completely impossible to make a world without change or pain. It's completely impossible for a relationship to always stay the same or to never have conflict. By trying to avoid ever displeasing your partner you are actively making it less healthy." And "You need to care about other people. You do not have to forgive them. But you still have to care." And "The only way to get out of this cycle is to realize when someone else is a victim of it too, even if they aren't someone you will ever like." And "At the end of the day, most people are just trying to survive." And "The line between toxic and victim is borderline on invisible." And "Change and stability aren't mutually exclusive." And "You can grow, you can change, you can fix this conflict, but you have to be alive to do it. No matter what, you have to live." And "There will never be a perfect victim. Even the kindest person will snap under the right circumstances. Judging whether or not someone deserves help based on how they handle extreme pain is kind of fucked up, actually." And "It is never going to be possible to stay the same. This is a good thing." Because personally I'm eating my own hands

[thelien-art]

Arafinwë, Eärwen, & Grandchildren

-and great grandchildren

Latest portaits

Sons of Fëanáro - Fëanor, Nerdanel & Celebrimbor - Children of Ñolofinwë - Ñolofinwë, Anairë & Grandchildren - Children of Arafinwë

Now for Finwë and wives!! And daughters!

HC:

Finarfin: I like to think he was sent to Olwë´s court when young and also sees Olwë´s own sons as brothers, and that he befriended them before meeting Eärwen. Finarfin is said to be the wisest and fairest of Finwë´s sons, which I think is because of the rivalry between Feanor and Fingolfin. As all of Valinor´s eyes were turned to Feanor and Fingolfin, with Melkor pulling strings too, Finarfin had the possibility to look at everything from above, after all he is the third son, there is no possibility he should ever become king, why would anyone suck up to him in the hope of winning his favor when he becomes king, or try to tear him away from his people? This also made him able to just not care if someone says something to him he finds hard to believe, instead of wondering over it and letting it grow, he will simply shrug it off, also after becoming king. I think Finarfin cared deeply for both his brothers. Still, when they set off to follow Melkor, with Finarfin´s own children, he already knew how this would end, as he had already seen everything in Valinor, and therefore knew it was doomed with no hope. However, this was also what made him fight at the War of Wrath, his love for his brothers and family, only to be shattered in the destruction before him.

Normally his hair would look something like this

Eärwen: After the doom of Mandos and Finarfin leaving for Tirion to become high king I think Eärwen left for Alqualondë for at least a good age where Anairë later joins her before they both decide to move back to Tirion and Eärwen then gets crowned as queen, although she never really bent for Noldo modesty even if some of the people would have liked it.

Orodreth: I HC Orodrth´s mother as Noldo, and while I think he took a lot after his father Angrod in his quite nature I also think that when meeting his wife he slowly begins leening more over to the Sinda side, meaning while he still braids his hair he slowly begins braiding it under Noldorin customs, which also weakens his hold on his people in some way, which makes it even easier for Celegorm and Curufin when they come. I don´t think he´s weak, he was just used to being a counselor and then suddenly his father dies, and his uncle leaves him to take care of a kingdom, we all know how that went, and before he knows it his daughter is standing side by side with a human who have grown up in Thingol´s court, survived the wilderness, and who´s own father is taking captive by Morgoth, and Finduilas trusts him, so why shouldn´t he? After all, Túrin can understand some of what he feels.

Finduilas: As she is born her father already leans more into Sinda culture so I don´t think she ever really tasted a Noldo upbringing, except when with Finrod, who I think first really entered her life when she was close to an adult as he was busy traveling with the Edain. I do think she was in love with Gwindor until the end, and she cared for him when he returned, although when she meets Túrin she sees everything Gwindor was before his capture, mixed with hate and despair that is easy enough to look over. I think she stands as a symbolic pillar of hope for all the free people of Beleriand up to her death, which also made her extremely sheltered as she was meant to survive, she was meant to be protected, so when she falls a lot of hope falls too.

Celebrian: I think Celebrian had a peaceful life, she was only young when Celebrimbor died, and while she was a child when Annatar was present and she was undoubtedly sorrowful of the fall she never saw it, so all she had was stories from the first really. While Elrond loved her in secret in many years, I think she was quite loud herself about her interest in him, even if it took very long to pick up on it. She cared for her children deeply and did a lot to spend as much time with them as possible and show them all of their mixed heritage as well as she could, she also taught them how to hunt, although she was never a master at it, it was just something she did for fun, in the later years a lot with Glorfindel, and soon enough Elladan and Elrohir outdid her in it. I do think she tried to stay as much as long as possible after her capture but at the end had to accept her only choice was to sail unless she would rather fade slowly. In appearance, she takes most after Celeborn, only inheriting her mother´s curls and lips.

[vacz]

I present to you my idea of a alternative bad ending for Wirt...

THE HUNTER

Instead of Beast!Wirt is Woodsman!wirt

After accepting the deal with the Beast, Wirt became the new lantern barer in hopes to keep Greg alive. He took the job to cut down the ellewoods and make them oil to feed the lantern so Greg's soul would never turn off, exactly what the woodsman used to do with his daughter. But as different from the woodsman, Wirt does know where the ellewoods truly came from, so the Beast has decided to take advantage of it and included him a little bit more into his chase for new victims. Now having Wirt helping the Beast to guide lost souls to the wrong path, it has become so much easier for the Beast to trap new souls

Wirt's role was this for a time: Becoming the new woodsman and finding lost kids to give them wrong directions or ideas. Despise how much he refused in the beginning, soon the Beast made him understand that this was the price for his mistakes, unless he wanted to Greg pay the price instead...

Until one night, Wirt had to confront a travel soul. A boy like him, wanting to save his little brother from the cruel breaches of the tree growing on his helpless body, and finally leave the woods with him, like Wirt himself once did. However, the Beast pressured and demanded him to take action himself, but unlike the old woodsman, Wirt did cut the boy down.

And since that incident, Wirt now has a new task to commit every time a new soul enters into the unknown.

He could barely sleep at night before, now he can't sleep at all. Wirt has stopped taking care of himself, at least he washes his hair and clothes once in a time but time itself seems so uselessly long for him until the point that things don't seem to matter anymore, nothing matters for Wirt, not even himself and his feelings... except keeping the lantern lit

The Beast knows better than anyone that Wirt's mind has become so weak until the point that he can't even survive by himself. He had succeeded in destroying this boy whole identity, only leaving a white paper to work on, so now he tries mold Wirt according his own twisted needs. Ironically, thanks to the Beast's influence, Wirt remembers the reason why he has to keep going with this but also he slowly starts to see people in a similar way that the beast's twisted perception does; trees to feed the lantern, not ready to burn yet but they must be prepared.

It's not surprising how much he has given up to the Beast. But unlike him, Wirt doesn't like to "play" or manipulate their victims, because he doesn't want to know them at all. Wirt already knows how these people will end, and he doesn't want to feel worse than he feels now, so he mostly tries to make his interactions shorter or cut them down directly, the quicker the easier it is for him to adopt this 'human dissociation' mentally

Of course, when he chooses violence, people tend to run rather than do what he plead, so he has to chase after them. Running after someone is exhausting for Wirt because he isn't that athletic in that aspect, and it's frustrating when he can't reach them. There are times when they manage to escape and some others that they don't

Wirt hates running after them, because it makes the situation more torturous and he gets exhausted. But if they don't start running, he is the one who tells them to do so. He doesn't understand very well why he does this but he likes to think that is a way to give them a chance to escape so he doesn't have to be the one to end with them, after all Wirt wants to believe that he is not evil

And yet, at the same time Wirt finds some kind of satisfaction on it... He is scared of what he is becoming.

Of course, he has this little duality inside his brain. The Beast has done a good job to keep Wirt in his role but still that doesn't make Wirt's guilt disappear at all

At least, his guilt has been manifested into a voice, represented by the rock fact. Even if the rock fact was meant for Greg to make silly but un-true facts, Wirt's interpretation of his own rock facts are the cruelest truths he refuses to believe. The rock fact represents that honest and logical part of him that is still there, under the tone of the self hate Wirt has grown on himself.

Of course, when he is around people for a longer period than he feels he should, Wirt stops trying to act normal and let himself to act a little... dramatic, in hopes to scare them or "prepare" himself mentally to go and chase them down with the axe

For this, he likes to use the rock fact. He always keeps it in his hair and uses it to try to re-create a rock fact like the ones Greg used to make, but instead of charming or adorable he looks insane, and he already knows that. Of course, he tries to re-create them seriously when he is alone but still fails miserably

Wirt does this in a poor intent to feel in touch with Greg, even tho they usually talk a lot with each other

Jason Funderberker has been gone for a long time by now, so the Beast is the only company Wirt has left, but most of the time he is alone.

He doesn't devout that his brother is there anymore, after all, Now Wirt can hear Greg's voice coming out of the lantern so what would be a better proof than that?. Greg is the only person left who seems to not hate him or is scared of him, the little ray of sunshine in his poor cruel life. If you tell him otherwise, Wirt won't want to believe you, even if deep down somehow, someway no matter how delusional he may be... He knows is true

Of course, I wouldn't recommend saying this because after having a nervous breakdown he will absolutely go after you with all pure rage.

Now here are some questions and its explanations:

Where does this idea come from?

Where does the name "The Hunter' come from?

What's Wirt and The Beast's relationship?

Wirt, The Woodsman, The Hunter and The Beast

Where does this idea come from?

It's no surprise that it comes from the idea of a bad ending for Wirt, one that is more fitting with the logic of the series. Because let's be real;

If he accepted the deal he wouldn't turn into the new beast because The Beast's motivation was to survive, he doesn't seem to want a replacement or transpass the role to anyone. In that case he would have already done it with The Woodsman.

The unknown was completely fine with the Beast gone so is not that he is THAT important for the forest to need a replacement.

Also, remember this little scene? it's from chapter 1: The Old Grist Mill. When Wirt and Greg just entered the unknown and suddenly heard the Woodsman cutting wood, before talking to him, Wirt said:

"Do you think it's some kind of deranged lunatic with an axe waiting out there in the darkness for innocent victims?"

So I thought; What if in the bad ending... He became that deranged lunatic?

Where does the name "The Hunter" come from"?

In the concept:

Since there are times when Wirt's victims escape, those who survived spread the word of a maniac who is wandering around the woods, looking for new victims, and once he finds them he will chase them until he can cut them down to the bone with his axe

They named him "The Hunter"

Wirt knows about his new reputation, since the travelers call him that once he reveals his real intentions, but he isn't really aware of all the rumors and stories people of the unknown had made about him, he knows that he will not like them but at the same time he is very curious about it. Some of them are true and others are just exaggerating. But at this point, Wirt Hunter had accepted that now he is one of the particular characters of the unknown.

In technical explanation:

In Over The Garden Wall we saw that most of the characters are named by "the what" for example: The Beast and The woodsman, they had no name by their own outside of their archetype. So I thought that in Wirt's case he would have a name like that, losing his own as a representation of how he has lost his own original identity. Wirt is no longer "the worthy one" anymore because he is more lost than the woodsman ever was, and there is no chance to bring him back, so he became "The Hunter" for the unique faction that makes himself distinguish from The Woodsman: The killing

The woodsman is just a man who lives in the woods and cuts trees, it just happens that the Beast used one to keep the lantern on. However.... The Hunter is someone that hunts, the whole point of a hunter is that he chases living beings and strap them, mostly for need. That is something The Beast himself does in his own way, which makes Wirt and The Beast more similar and unionite than the previous dynamic with The Woodsman, or even I dare say they are just alike; The Creature and The Man who hunts for surviving

Also, more into Bad End Friend's territory; Every evil alternate version has their own unique name, for example the icon trio, Bipper and Ice Finn (Also officially named "The Snowman") but then we have just "Beast Wirt" and until now NOBODY has come up with an actual name that fits him. I remember that someone already suggested the name "The Hunter" for Beast Wirt but it didn't make much sense (At least to me). However, in a woodsman context I think it could work better.

What's Wirt and Beast's relationship?

In Wirt's perspective

Basically a case of Stockholm Syndrome: At first he felt more like a prisoner, The Beast was a figure who he should follow if he wants to keep Greg alive, he is more than Wirt and his power overcomes his young self. However as the time passed, Wirt realized that the Beast can also be very merciful and at the same time rightfully ruthless as his monstrous nature allows him, as he has 'shown' him acts of trust. For Wirt, The Beast is a dark but fair being, not as evil as everyone told. The Beast acts similarly like a father would do towards Wirt, but without that human openly caring love. He is strict and cold, but is for Wirt and Greg's own good

In Beast's perspective:

Wirt is nothing but an interesting experiment. The Beast has been manipulating every little detail of Wirt's surroundings, so he decides to obey him by own choice, which worked out way better than expected. He has seen Wirt changing to fit into his needs, becoming more useful and useful than last time. Anytime the Beast has thought he reached the limit, Wirt proves him wrong and finds a way to pass it and go on anyway. His determination is so fascinating to the Beast that he continues to see how far he could go

Their dynamic:

Naive teen being manipulated by his father figure to be useful for his plans or desires (but even more mess up)

Examples of this kind of dynamic are Rapunzel and Mother Gothel from Tangled (2010) or Hunter and Belos from The Owl House (2020)

Wirt has been alone for so long to the point that he holds tightly to anything that could give him a minimum sign of love, and The Beast knows that more than anyone

He has taken advantage of this, so by convincing Wirt to isolate himself and showing barely love, Hunter would listen and obey him without any doubt. It doesn't matter if The Beast is the main responsible for his situation, things have been twisted so much to that point that Wirt fully believes that this is all his fault. He must do the right thing at any cost, after all, he would do anything for the ones he loves right Gregory?

Wirt, The Woodsman, The Hunter and The Beast

These are the four identities Wirt adopts in the time on the unknown, like states of his sanity slowly decaying

Wirt

The anxious teen we all know and love, the guy he has been during his journey until the point where he faced the Beast face to face

The Woodsman

Wirt post-deal

At first:

He doubts that Greg may be in the lantern, and now he regrets his decision. However he doesn't know what to do now because the guilt for Greg will not leave him in peace, and so Wirt feels like he doesn't deserve to go home, he can't go back, no without Greg. So he still lives in the forest, feeding the lantern and hearing the Beast's words, however The Beast insists that Greg is indeed in the lantern, but Wirt isn't sure whether to believe him or not

Even if Wirt knows he needs the ellewood, like the woodsman, he tries to help and warns about the Beast to those who came into the unknown

The Beast warned him about helping people, but he didn't listen to him until one night. There was an incident where he almost lost Greg's light forever for the lack of ellewood. Since then, Wirt finally cooperates with the Beast

At last:

Wirt knows what he must do. He misguides those who pass through the way in forms to get enough ellewood for Greg, always making sure to keep himself distance and not get too close with them. However there are times where he can't NOT sympathize with the travelers and so he offers his genuine help

The Beast wasn't comfortable knowing that Wirt still kept helping people.

The Hunter

Wirt post-murder

At first:

After his first kill, Wirt felt so guilty that he stopped taking care of his health (He stopped eating, bathing, and stuff) and encaged himself inside the house with all the bottles of oil, fearing that he would hurt someone again

At this time Wirt started to hear the voices of Greg, the rock and the crying of the lost souls, and talk to them until he ran out of oil

When he finally went outside, his body was too weak to even walk and he fell on the grass unconsciously. At that moment the Beast thought Wirt died and so he was about to take off the lantern, but the boy's hands wouldn't stop grabbing it with all the fury. The Beast kept trying until suddenly Wirt woke up and said to him that as long as his brother needs him he would be still here. For his stupid unbreakable determination, the beast didn't see any other option but to take care of the kid

As he recovered, The Beast started to convince him of the idea of taking people as nothing but ellewoods he needs. Wirt didn't like it at first, but the Beast's kind act and the poor health state he put himself into finally made him accept the new task.

At last (actual state):

Most of the time he is alone, searching around the forest for more ellewood to feed Greg with, day and night. He doesn't fully sleep, he takes naps in the afternoon so he can be wake up all night as he wants. To eat he hunts animals, fish, rabbits and some other birds or frogs, whatever living being he finds. To entertain himself he recites poetry and sings songs that the Beast has taught him, all loud like someone would listen to him. At home he writes his poems and composes his own music, mostly for clarinet.

At times the voices are louder and other times they are quiet. If it's Greg then it would be a nice time, if it's the rock fact it's a guarantee he would be at least pissed off, and if it is the distant crying of the lost souls then paranoid it is.

When someone crosses his way, it depends on how things are going to see how things will end. When he just indicates the direction you'll better leave as soon as you can, because the longer you stay and talk to him Wirt will act weirder in hopes for you to leave him alone, otherwise, if you cross the line with your words, he probably will run out of patience and starts to prepare the axe

But it also depends on how likeable he finds you. He could not care and warned you before he attacks you as usual, he could hate you so much to the point that he attacks you with no warning, he could like you and give you five seconds of advantage, and if he likes you a little bit more he would become obsessed with you and will maintain you inside his house so the Beast will not know about your existence as long you don't go outside

The Beast

The Beast (According to the Woodsman's words) is the death of all hope. How low would you have to go so you lost your whole humanity to become the living embodiment of one of the darkness concepts in human kind?

If Wirt ever became the Beast, he should have been falling in grace until the lowest point a person could go. So in my idea of The Hunter, I like to imagine that the differences between The Beast and Wirt would slowly fade away until they are one in the same

Inside The Hunter, Wirt has not only become lost in life but he has also lost his identity, his spirit, his desires and his home. The one thing left to lose is his humanity... His soul

The only thing that separates him from The Beast, is him holding on to the last piece of humanity he has left; Greg

Day after day his sanity is drifting away, but it's because of Greg's existence that he is connected with his humanity, because his actions are meant for Greg's surviving, not his

If Wirt descends to absolute madness and forgets completely about Greg but also openly enjoys his cruelest actions, to the Unknown's eyes, he would no longer be worthy of humanity, and as a punishment he would be cursed to be the successor of the Beast

And becoming worse.

Like I have been having this idea in my mind for a while now and I wanted to share it. I hope you liked my idea and the drawings I made because it really took me a lot of time trying to finish this post because you know... Christmas and happy new year (ah yes, what a happy post to show in these lovely times, yeah!)

SO WHAT YOU THINK?

[thedemoninme141]

Her Heartbeat; Chapter 18: Her Hope.

Summary: Wednesday shows you that she understands and that's when it finally happens.

Warnings: EmotionalOutOfCharacterWednesday!

Parings: Wednesday x Fem reader. Wordcount: 4.3k-ish?

Chapter 1 ------- Previous Chapter

Her Heartbeat's Chapterlist.

Worklist

Wednesday adjusted the cuff of her sleeve, her fingers lingering on the familiar texture of her blazer.  Parents’ Weekend. A pointless ritual, in Wednesday’s opinion, yet another chance for society to revel in shallow pleasantries. Enid had already left to meet her parents, and for that, it was quiet. And the quiet gave her room to think—a dangerous pastime she had indulged in far too often over the last few days.

It had been a week since you were discharged from the hospital. A week since you insisted you were fine, brushing off Wednesday’s concerns with that maddening smile of yours.

After you were discharged, you had been taken home to recover. It was only logical. You were still fragile, still regaining your strength.

As soon as her classes were done each day, she had gone straight to your house. The walk to the edge of Jericho had become a part of her routine.

She never announced her visits; she simply appeared on the porch like a shadow, silently stepping through the door you always left unlocked for her.

The swing outside became her refuge. You insisted on sitting there most afternoons, wrapped in a blanket. She had brought her notebook, intending to jot down notes for her novel, but the words never came. Instead, she’d found herself watching you.

You would talk about nothing and everything. You told her about your childhood, your love for old movies, your love for animals, your love for flowers and she had listened, not just listened but absorbed every detail, filing them away as though they were critical to her survival. Somehow, they had become just that.

Your laughter, faint but still vibrant, would be there... You’d tease her, call her "Angry Bird" with a cheeky grin that no longer made her want to throttle you. She wanted those to last, just last till...lifetime.

Against her better judgment, you had begun to infiltrate her thoughts, her routines, her life whenever you had not been beside her. You had a way of breaking through her carefully constructed walls, making her see things she’d never cared to notice before.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she thought about the moment you had asked to return to Nevermore. “I miss them,” you had said softly, your eyes distant. “I miss my friends. And I miss... the life I had before all this.”

She had wanted to argue, to insist you needed rest, but the conviction in your voice had silenced her... though she felt something similar to.. Relief, because... you would be closer.

You had changed her. That much she couldn’t deny. In your presence, she felt something she never thought she would feel, an understanding that the world was not entirely cruel and soulless. It used to irritate her at first. But now? She wasn’t sure she could do without it. Without you.

Thing snapped his fingers sharply from his perch on her desk, breaking her reverie. She glared at him, though the hand only gestured impatiently at the clock.

“Yes, I’m aware of the time, I just do not care.” she muttered before heading out... Time for torture, and not the good kind.

The quad was alive with activity. Parents and students mingled, the hum of laughter and chatter grating against her nerves. She scanned the crowd, her eyes landing on her parents near the center.

“Wednesday,” Morticia greeted as Gomez grinned broadly beside her. Pugsley waved awkwardly, his face lighting up at the sight of his sister.

“Mother. Father. Pugsley,” Wednesday said, her tone clipped but not unkind.

Gomez spread his arms wide. “Mi querida, look at you! As stoic and menacing as ever. Have you started any fires recently? Poisoned anyone’s tea?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Wednesday replied dryly. “My schedule has been occupied by less homicidal pursuits.”

Morticia’s dark eyes gleamed with amusement. “Surely you’ve found some way to entertain yourself?”

“I’ve managed,” Wednesday said, her voice as flat as ever, though her mind flickered with memories of you—your laughter, your presence beside her.

Pugsley stepped closer, looking up at her with admiration. “Have you been teaching anyone new torture techniques?”

Wednesday’s lips twitched, the closest she ever came to a smile. “Not recently. But I’ll pencil you in for a lesson next time you visit.”

As Gomez laughed heartily, Morticia’s expression shifted, her gaze

piercing in that way only a mother’s could be. “We heard about the hospital, Wednesday.”

Wednesday stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “Who told you?”

Morticia arched a brow. “I called Principal Weems. She mentioned a... significant event involving you and someone else. A friend, perhaps?”

The word hung in the air like a blade. Wednesday’s throat tightened. “And what exactly did Weems say?”

“That you were remarkably devoted,” Morticia said, her tone carefully neutral. “And that this friend of yours has been unwell.”

Wednesday’s jaw tightened. “Her name is Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Morticia repeated, tasting the name as if it were a fine wine. “And what, my darling, does Y/N mean to you?”

There it was, the question she had been dreading. What did you mean to her? You were everything she didn’t understand, everything she couldn’t control. You were infuriating, reckless, and entirely too important. But how could she say that? How could she explain something she barely comprehended herself?

“She’s...” Wednesday began, her voice faltering for the first time in front of them. “She’s someone who matters.”

Gomez’s brows shot up. “Matters? My little viper, you’ve never admitted that anyone matters before. This Y/N must be extraordinary.”

Wednesday was quiet... and that told everything.

Morticia’s gaze softened, a rare warmth breaking through her usual cool demeanor. “Do you need us to do something for her, Wednesday?”

“No,” Wednesday said quickly, her tone firm. “Not yet. I’ll... talk to her first.”

Morticia nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Of course. You will introduce her to us, won’t you?”

Wednesday didn’t reply, her gaze drifting over the crowd as if searching for you. But you weren’t there. Of course, you weren’t. You had told her last night that your father won't be here because he was working overtime at the garage, taking on more cars than he should for your sake. The thought made her stomach twist, a feeling uncomfortably close to guilt.

Morticia followed her gaze, her expression thoughtful. “She’s not here, is she?”

“No,” Wednesday said softly, her hands clenching at her sides.

“Then you’ll tell her what we discussed,” Morticia said, her voice gentle but firm. “And Wednesday?”

She turned to face her mother, her dark eyes unreadable.

“Don’t wait too long to tell her how you feel,” Morticia said, her voice low enough that only Wednesday could hear. “Life has a way of slipping through our fingers.”

For once, Wednesday didn’t have a sharp retort, her mind already drifting back to you.

She slipped her phone from her pocket, she detested the necessity of this device yet here she was, compelled to use it.

Where are you?"

The reply came quickly—a picture. The pond near the academy.

Without another glance at her parents or a word of explanation, Wednesday turned on her heel and began walking.

Before she had taken more than three steps, a smaller figure trotted up beside her. “Wednesday, where are you going?” Pugsley asked.

“To the pond,” she said curtly, not breaking stride.

“Can I come too? I want to meet your friend!”

Wednesday hesitated, the idea of introducing you to her brother an odd one. But as she glanced back at Pugsley’s hopeful expression, she found herself unable to refuse. “Fine,” she said, though her tone carried no warmth.

The walk wasn't long, but Pugsley filled the silence with his usual chatter.

“So,” he began “how did you two meet?”

Wednesday’s lips curled into the faintest of smirks, the memory as sharp and vivid as the day it happened. “Kidnapping,” she said simply.

“Kidnapping?”

Wednesday didn’t elaborate, leaving him to puzzle over her answer. Silence stretched between them for a moment before Pugsley tried again.

“Do you want to go grenade fishing later?” he asked, his voice eager and boyish.

Wednesday sighed, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Not today. I have something to do this afternoon.”

Pugsley tilted his head. “Something more important than grenade fishing?”

“Yes,” Wednesday replied simply, her pace quickening as they neared the pond.

The walk felt both agonizingly slow and all too fast. Her thoughts raced as she considered what she would say when she saw you, she stopped abruptly, her breath catching in her throat.

There you were, sitting cross-legged on the wooden platform, the light breeze teasing strands of your hair. The sight of you, so serene and entirely yourself, made her chest tighten in a way that was as infuriating as it was inevitable.

You looked fragile and strong all at once, the memory of the raven came back to her mind. The thought of how close she had come to losing you made her stomach churn, but the sight of you now, alive, here, with her, eased something deep inside her that she hadn’t realized was knotted.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, the urge to go to you overwhelming. But she stayed rooted to the spot, her mind waging war against itself.

How had you come to mean so much to her? How had you managed to weave yourself so deeply into the fabric of her life?

“Is that her?” Pugsley’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Wednesday blinked, her focus snapping back to the present. “Yes,” she said, her voice quieter than usual.

She started forward again and Pugsley followed closely.

When she reached the edge of the platform, you turned at the sound of their footsteps. Your smile was faint but genuine, the kind of expression that made Wednesday’s heart clench painfully in her chest.

“Hey,” you said softly, your eyes flicking between her and Pugsley.

Wednesday stopped a few feet away,“This is my brother, Pugsley,” she said, gesturing toward the boy at her side.

“Hi!” Pugsley said brightly, waving a little too enthusiastically. “You’re Y/N, right?”

You nodded, your smile widening just a fraction. “That’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Pugsley.”

Pugsley beamed, clearly delighted. “Wednesday’s told me... well, not much about you. But she doesn’t usually bring people up, so you must be special.”

Wednesday shot him a warning glare, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care.

You laughed, the sound soft and melodic. “I guess I’m just persistent.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. “Annoyingly so,” she muttered.

You patted the spot beside you on the platform, your gaze fixed on Wednesday. “Sit with me?”

For a moment, she hesitated. The vulnerability of the gesture, the simplicity of your request, made her chest tighten. But then she stepped forward, lowering herself onto the wood beside you.

Pugsley lingered for a moment before plopping down on your other side. “Do you like grenades?” he asked suddenly, his face lit with curiosity.

You blinked, caught off guard by the random question. “Uh, I’ve never used one.”

“Pity,” Pugsley said, shaking his head solemnly. “They’re really fun.”

You glanced at Wednesday, a bemused smile playing on your lips. “I can see the family resemblance.”

“He’s the less refined version.” Wednedsay said flatly.

Pugsley didn’t seem to mind the jab, his attention already drifting to the water. You, however, were focused entirely on Wednesday.

“Did you have a nice time with your family?” you asked, your voice gentle.

Wednesday hesitated, her eyes flicking to the water. “It was tolerable,” she said finally. “Until they started prying into my personal life.”

You tilted your head, “Prying about what?”

She turned to meet your gaze, her expression unreadable. “You.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but you said nothing, waiting for her to elaborate.

“They know about the hospital,” Wednesday continued, her voice low. “And they know about you.”

“Oh,” you said softly, your hands fidgeting in your lap.

“They wanted to... meet you...” Wednesday added, her tone quieter now, almost hesitant, her fingers twitched slightly as she processed your reaction.

But the way your expression softened into a warm, unreserved smile immediately soothed the tension coiling in her chest.

"Of course, I’d love to meet them," you said, your voice gentle and sure.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice almost cracking from the weight of her own uncertainty. She couldn’t believe the vulnerability in her words, couldn’t believe that it slipped out so easily, but she couldn't take it back now.

You nodded, your eyes warm, and Wednesday’s heart skipped another beat. “I’m sure,” you said with a quiet smile, so simple, yet so potent. “It’ll be nice to meet your family, Wednesday.”

Wednesday’s usual cool demeanor flickered for just a moment, and she quickly looked away, her hands still clasped tightly in front of her. The thought of her family meeting you, of you becoming a part of that strange, twisted world of hers, filled her with a strange feeling... She didn’t know what that meant, but she didn’t feel the need to dissect it just yet.

Pugsley, oblivious to the undercurrent between you and his sister, grinned. “I think they’ll like you! Especially Dad, he loves meeting new people. Mom’s... a little intimidating, though.”

“Thanks for the warning, Pugsley,” you said with a laugh, glancing at Wednesday. “Any survival tips?”

“He's the last person you would want survival tips from.” Wednesday deadpaned.

“Do you want to go grenade fishing with us sometime? It’s really fun.” Pugsley asked out of nowhere again.

You laughed, clearly not sure if he was joking. “I’ll think about it.”

Wednesday sighed, her eyes flicking toward you. “He’s serious.”

“Of course he is,” you said, your grin widening.

As the two of you continued to talk, Wednesday found herself leaning back slightly, watching the interaction. You and Pugsley seemed to get along effortlessly, your laughter mingling with his in a way that felt almost... natural.

And for once, Wednesday didn’t feel the need to correct it.

The three of you sat there for a while longer, the afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the pond and Wednesday found herself stealing glances at you. She isn't the one to be sure about her feelings... but she was sure about this, she wanted you here, by her side, in her life. But how could she possibly explain that?

Finally, she broke the silence. "We should head back," she said, standing abruptly and brushing nonexistent dust from her blazer.

Pugsley groaned but got to his feet, brushing off his hands. “Fine, but only if we can do grenade fishing later.”

You laughed, your gaze flicking to Wednesday. “Do I even want to know what grenade fishing is?”

“No,” she replied flatly.

As you walked, the quad came into view, still bustling with parents and students. The sight of the crowd made Wednesday’s jaw tighten again, but she pressed on, her gaze flicking briefly to you.

“They’re over there,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

You glanced at her, your expression soft. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said curtly, though the slight tension in her shoulders betrayed her. “Come on.”

Gomez spotted her first. His face lit up, and he waved enthusiastically. “Mi querida! You’re back!”

Morticia turned, her gaze softening as she saw Wednesday. “Darling.”

“Mother. Father,” Wednesday said, her tone as composed as ever. “This is Y/N.”

Morticia’s dark eyes swept over you, her lips curving into a faint smile. “So this is the infamous Y/N.”

Gomez stepped forward, his grin wide and genuine. “Ah, the one who has captured our Wednesday’s attention. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young lady.”

You smiled politely, extending a hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Addams.”

“Gomez, please,” he said, shaking your hand enthusiastically. “And this is Morticia, my beloved.”

Morticia inclined her head gracefully. “I must say, you seem to have quite the influence on our daughter.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said modestly, though the way your eyes flicked to Wednesday told a different story.

“She wouldn’t admit it if you did,” Pugsley chimed in, earning a sharp glare from his sister.

“Enough,” Wednesday snapped, though her voice lacked its usual venom. “We’re here. Now what?”

Morticia chuckled softly. “Patience, darling. We merely wanted to meet the one who has... intrigued you so.”

“Mother...” Wednesday’s tone was low, warning.

Gomez clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Tell me, Y/N, do you like fencing? Or perhaps dueling? We have a wonderful family tradition—”

“Father,” Wednesday interrupted, her voice sharp. “Stop.”

Gomez raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “All right, all right. But you should join us for dinner sometime."

“That sounds... lovely,” you said, glancing at Wednesday, who looked like she wanted to sink into the ground.

Morticia’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before she turned to Wednesday. “She’s charming, Wednesday. You’ve chosen well.”

“I didn’t choose—” Wednesday began, but Morticia silenced her with a look.

“You’ll learn, darling,” Morticia said, her voice laced with amusement. “Sometimes, the heart makes choices before the mind catches up.”

Wednesday stiffened, is there any place she can put her family up for adoption?

“Tell me, Y/N, how do you handle our little viper? She can be quite... intense.” Gomez asked.

You smiled, your eyes flicking to Wednesday. “I don’t handle her. I just... understand her.”

Wednesday’s breath caught at your words. Understand her?

Morticia’s gaze was knowing as she addressed you. “You must care for her deeply.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded. “I do.”

Wednesday had nothing... no retorts... no comebacks... no sharp answers. She simply stood there, the weight of your words settling over her like a warm, unfamiliar cloak.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of conversation and laughter. Morticia and Gomez were Morticia and Gomez.

Through it all, Wednesday remained by your side, And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the quad, she prepared herself. Its showtime.

"Come with me. I have something to show you." She said

You blinked, intrigued by the sudden request. "Lead the way," you said, a smile tugging at your lips.

From a distance, Morticia and Gomez watched as Wednesday lead you towards the forest.

Gomez squinted slightly, watching the two of you disappearing further into the trees. "She really has changed, hasn't she?" he remarked.

Morticia’s gaze remained steady, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Our little viper was trying so hard to not be like her mother, she ended up becoming like her father." She let out a soft, almost satisfied laugh.

Gomez chuckled "She’s got that same look in her eyes. Reminds me of when we first met."

“You see it too, don’t you? Where this path ends?” Morticia’s voice was quieter now, but her words carried a weight that neither of them could ignore.

Gomez’s grin faded, and he nodded, his hand resting on Morticia’s arm. “Yes. But it’s the path she has chosen, isn’t it? We can’t change what’s already in motion.”

“No,” Morticia agreed, her eyes distant as she looked toward the woods. “We can only watch.”

You walked beside Wednesday, your gaze occasionally flicking toward her. She had been silent, her dark eyes fixed ahead as if lost in thought.

It wasn't her quietness that bothered you, it was the way her fingers twitched slightly, as though wrestling with a decision, the way her posture, usually so rigid, seemed just a fraction less guarded.

You glanced around, the trail feeling strangely familiar. A flicker of recognition sparked in your mind as you took in the surroundings. It was leading to the same clearing where she had gathered fireflies for you before, fulfilling one of your bucket list wishes: to catch light. A soft smile tugged at your lips at the memory. What could she have planned this time?

What could she have planned there now?

Right then, you felt the faintest brush of her fingers against yours. It was so subtle, you almost thought you imagined it. But her hand hesitantly slipped into yours. Her grip was delicate, as though afraid you might pull away. Your heart swelled at the gesture, a warmth spreading through your heart, and it felt... like it was beating just as it should.

You tightened your hold on her hand slightly, a silent reassurance that you welcomed her touch.

But for Wednesday, the simple act of reaching for your hand had felt monumental. She had debated it for the entirety of the walk, her mind torn between logic and the overwhelming pull of her emotions. The thought of rejection had briefly crossed her mind, but the warmth of your presence, the sound of your steps aligning with hers, made her brave enough to try.

Her heart raced in a way she couldn’t entirely explain, perhaps it was anticipation, or maybe the weight of what she was about to do.

She had visited this spot last evening to ensure everything was perfect. It was as she had envisioned it, though she owed part of that to Eugene’s assistance. The boy had grinned proudly when she’d inspected his work, and, for once, she hadn’t chastised him for the enthusiasm.

This was for you. It had to be perfect. She hoped you would understand what it meant, what she was trying to say without words.

When the clearing finally came into view, she paused, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“Almost there,” she murmured, her voice quieter than usual.

The two of you stepped into the open space, and your breath hitched at the sight before you. The scene was just as magical as the last time Wednesday had brought you here, but now, it was even more enchanting.

The fireflies were there, just as they had been before like tiny stars.

But now, there was something more—something that hadn’t been there last time.

Blue Butterflies. Dozens of them. They danced around the trees, alighting briefly on leaves and branches before taking flight again. It felt otherworldly, almost like a dream.

You gasped softly, your eyes wide as you took in the sight. “Wednesday…”

She stood beside you, her hand still in yours, watching your reaction intently. “I did it for you,” she said quietly, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“I know it wasn’t on your list, not exactly. But…” She hesitated, her dark eyes meeting yours, her usual confidence faltering. “I wanted to show you that I understand. That I’ve been listening.”

“Listening to what?” you asked, your voice just as quiet, as though afraid to break the spell of the moment.

“To your wish. "Save A Life" ” she admitted, her gaze unwavering. “I know now… you didn’t mean it literally. You wanted to save me. And in your own strange, infuriating way, you already have.”

Your breath caught in your throat as her words sank in.

“You’ve changed me,” she continued, her voice growing steadier. “You’ve made me see the world in a way I never thought I could. In color. In light. In… beauty.” her eyes glimmering with an emotion she rarely let show. “You’ve done something no one else has ever managed. You’ve made me feel alive.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t look away from her, not for a second.

Her words hung in the air, and for the first time, you saw a vulnerability in her that she rarely, if ever, allowed herself to show.

“I love you,” she said finally, the words tumbling out as though she couldn’t hold them back any longer. Her voice wavered just slightly, betraying the depth of her emotions. “I’ve tried not to, but it doesn’t matter. I love you, and I don’t care if that makes me weak or irrational or—”

You didn’t let her finish. Closing the distance between you, you cupped her face in your hands, your touch gentle but firm. “Wednesday,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I love you too.”

And then, you kissed her.

The world seemed to fall away in that moment. The only thing that mattered was the feel of her lips against yours, soft, hesitant, but filled with a passion that left you breathless. Her hands found your waist, holding you as though you might disappear if she let go.

She felt your warmth seep into her, chasing away the coldness she had always clung to. She wanted this moment to last forever, to hold onto you in a way that felt eternal.

When she finally pulled back, her dark eyes searched yours, looking for confirmation, for reassurance. And she found it. In the way you looked at her, in the soft smile on your lips, she knew. This was real.

She took your hand again, her fingers brushing against your palm before gently lifting it. She led you closer to the butterflies, holding your hand steady as one of them landed on your outstretched fingers.

Wednesday’s gaze was fixed on the emotions in your eyes as you watched the butterfly. In your eyes, she saw wonder, joy, and something deeper, something that made her chest ache in a way that was almost unbearable.

If this was her world now, she decided, it was one she wanted to live in until the very end.

And as the butterfly flew away, you turned to her, “Wednesday,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “Save a life… it wasn’t about changing you. I love you for who you are—every dark, twisted, brilliant part of you. I wouldn’t want you to be anything else.” You hesitated, your eyes searching hers. “It’s about something else. Something… you’ll understand when the time comes.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across her face. But she didn’t press you, sensing that the moment wasn’t right. Instead, she nodded, her grip on your hand tightening as though to anchor herself to you.

And as the butterflies continued to flutter around you, the fireflies casting their golden glow, Wednesday felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: Hope.

[Author's note: I promised and I delivered! THE FIRST KISSSSS!!! Soo How do you guys feel about this chapter? We have maybe 5-6 chapters more... before the end...]

[amoebab22]

Hard agree on this. Also wtf is Bellara's class?? Mage? Rogue? Why can't she do mage stuff in battle?? Does she just have a cool magic pip boy or....

Really only Davrin, Bellara, and Harding's personal quests make sense.

Analysis of each in no particular order below the cut.

Bellara has to go do calibrations initially (classic Bioware) but you get the sense she does this on the regular because of Cyrian's death, so the fact she "waits" for Rook makes sense because it feels like she does this weekly or whatever so we could just tag along one time. We also find this magic archive with important knowledge which somehow is not a Chekov's gun, but initially I was like okay this is a little forced BUT this could be so useful!!! (But then it's just like, not at all.) So of course we're gonna go help her figure it out but then we run into Cyrian and he's working with yet another evil ancient mage and well, shit, we should probably take care of that. Sure, his funeral might not be necessary, but because he sacrifices himself to defeat the forgotten one, I can see Rook feeling an obligation to him.

(Also, what happened to the Dalish burying their dead because it was more like uthenera? Also why are the Dalish up in Tevinter and Antiva where they could be enslaved? Also why are Tevene magisters not up in Arlathan forest doing their fucked up magic PhDs by stealing Elvhen shit??)

Anyway, then we have Harding, who can SUDDENLY CONTROL ROCKS??? Yeah, that's PRESSING to figure out. And yeah of course she's waiting for Rook to come in case she needs help cuz fuck if she knows how this rock shit works. Going to Kal-sharok (sp?) also makes sense cuz well fuck they've somehow survived the Blight alone for a thousand years (side note, the dude says they had to do terrible things to survive but then I didn't see that explained? I assume cannibalism. But did I miss that explanation? I was ready for some Broodmother shit. I was READY. That quest fucked me up in DAO), which hey, the Blight is different now, but these guys are the Legion of the Dead on steroids. If I was Rook I'd be begging for their help.

Then her whole quest kind of unravels for me. I admittedly got bored. Once she could control the stone it just felt like a ton of exposition that could have been done in a more engaging way. Also why is she going camping in Ferelden with Emmrich when the entire country is basically dead? It would make more sense for us to use her powers to rescue her parents or something? Something hyper personal that's really urgent.

Finally we have Davrin, the most obvious choice to join up. He's a goddamn Grey Warden (Wardens, my morally grey beloveds), and Wardens are sworn to fight the Blight at any and all costs. That's why Clarel could be convinced to do what she did. That's why Isseya was ordered to blight the griffons and ultimately did it, despite hating it and knowing it was evil. That's why the Wardens forced Hawke's father to do blood magic. And that's why a few Wardens followed First Warden Genevieve into the Deep Roads in The Calling to find her brother (which, good book other than the fact that Maric has a weird elf fetish and had never learned not to think with his dick. Loghain was holding Ferelden together tbh). The Wardens are compelling because they're the ultimate "the ends justify the means" group, who are unknowingly weakening the Veil each time they stop a Blight, which could ultimately unleash all of the Blight.

And Davrin is up against this Architect-like blighted creature so yeah, he's not taking that shit on without some back up. And Rook really doesn't want the Gloom Howler or her calling-addled Wardens rolling around. Seems bad when the gods control the Blight. So waiting for Rook makes sense, and a harder fight when you ignore his shit also makes sense.

We could have had Emmrich join up and speed up his timeline on being a Lich supposedly because the power would help the fight, only to find out it's really because he's terrified of dying.

Lucanis should have been more like Zevran: an unwilling Crow who volunteers so they can have some goddamn agency for once in their life and because fuck it, they were gonna die anyway. Much like a Warden, they would have accepted death.

A Shadow Dragon would be down to kill Venatori and super powerful mage slaveholders. I mean, my Shadow Dragon Rook killed slavers too hard for the group. We could take another one of those. A former slave Shadow Dragon would be extremely conflicted about fighting Solas (if he'd been characterized correctly and not retconned into an asshole) because Solas is a former slave who freed slaves. Hell, without sufficient loyalty to Rook, they'd JOIN Solas in a final battle.

Or, frankly? Dorian could join us again. Solas made Dorian a better person. Dorian has an amazing, genius level understanding of the Veil and magic. He kept up with Solas's discussion of magic every time. Yeah yeah, it has to be a new leader, but uh, Lace is there. Dorian would immediately be like oh, another world threatening evil mage? Two this time?? Well, looks like I'm coming out of retirement. Dorian would *struggle* to kill Solas. Solas is the reason (along with possibly Inky) that Dorian is fighting to end slavery in Tevinter. Solas maybe wasn't his friend, but Solas was *right* about so much. And Dorian would have felt the Veil weakening. He'd know. And I think he'd really sympathize with Solas's story of being coerced into being something he's not, into doing things he doesn't believe in, by people that say they love him. That would hit home. And without high enough loyalty to Rook, an Inquisitor who vowed to save Solas and Dorian could turn on Rook in the end. They could side with Solas, see that his place actually makes sense (because it does, in an 'ends justify the means' way. In a 'this is inevitable, and doing it in a controlled way is better than a chaotic collapse' way).

But then we'd have to sympathize with Solas and we'd want to take down the Veil. Which would end the story, and by god EA and Bioware are gonna milk that IP until it's a desicated corpse.

Ok fine you guys twisted my arm (I say to a completely empty room) here's why I think Mass Effect 2 worked and Veilguard tried to copy it and failed.

First up is the complexity of the goal/plot. In ME2, the end goal was simple: Stop the Collectors from harvesting humans. Blast off through the Omega 4 Relay and probably die. Take down as many Collectors as possible before you die. Basically, shoot stuff until it explodes. It made sense that half of the squadmates were just "legendary badass", "legendary badass (green skin version)" and "legendary badass (huge tits version)." You need to kill dudes, so you pick people who are good at killing. There are a few who are better at tech or science, but they use tech and science to, you guessed it, kill dudes. Then you have a few who join due to aligning goals (Legion) or loyalty to Shepard (Tali, Garrus) or humanity/Cerberus (Jacob, Miranda), or they're literally getting paid to be there (Kasumi and Zaeed). But all of them have reasons to stick around, of various importance.

The specificity of the main plot is also relevant here, because everybody in the galaxy is like "oh humans are getting kidnapped? sucks to suck dude rip in piss ://" so it makes sense to recruit whoever you can get. You need help for an issue that (according to everyone who would otherwise help) only concerns you. So you're like "hey are you good at killing? and do you mind dying?" and most of those freaks go "yeah lmao whatever." They're self-selecting, because the cause is so specific and explicitly suicidal.

The suicidal thing also helps explain the loyalty missions, btw. They're not presented as "hey can you umm help? or I'm gonna be distwacted 👉👈" but as "hey man, these people are willing to die on your command, you should probably help them with their unfinished business at the very least." And yeah, the mechanic of "if you don't help they'll fucking perish" remains the same, but the framing is different. In ME2, you're basically helping a bunch of professionals to do this final thing before they die for your cause. It's both a sign of respect and of consideration for them as people, and strengthens your bond with them and their loyalty to you. The way it's framed means that you don't have to do this in order for them to do their job, but doing it helps strengthen their belief in you.

And because the stakes are relatively low (as far as everyone knows), of course the squadmates will respect and appreciate a Shepard who takes care of them more. Of course it builds loyalty. This person isn't just using you as a meat shield for their pet crusade, they're genuinely trying to do what's right and don't want you to die for nothing.

In Veilguard, you're literally told multiple times that you have to do their dumbfuck busywork or else they're gonna throw in the towel. Hey man can you do this thing? Or else I'm not saving the world :3c The stakes being SO HIGH while their issues are SO NOTHING makes most of them look really immature and incompetent, which clashes against the whole "gang of experts" thing. You're telling me this couldn't wait? I have to go into Lucanis' mind and figure out his traumas or else he won't ... hold a knife good? And that will doom the world because he's the only guy who can hold a knife? Okay???

ME2 presents everybody as professionals and experts in their field, but at the end of the day, they're just there to kill stuff. Remove one, and another will be found. The mission is (as far as everyone in power knows) not galaxy-threatening yet, so finding new guys to help would be easy. That's why Shep taking the time to solve their final issues means something and why it earns their loyalty. It shows that Shep cares about them as people.

Veilguard presents these people as experts in their fields, too. They're considered irreplacable in this conflict. And the conflict is saving the whole entire fucking world. And YET, that has to take a backseat to them figuring out what happened to a work colleague or Lucanis' grandma, because none of these experts can take a fucking chill pill to SAVE THE WORLD.

ME2 offers "low" stakes for the conflict and high stakes for the characters, so when it focuses on the characters' stories, it makes sense. You get the impression that it's character drama with a common goal that brings them all together. Veilguard offers high stakes for the plot and low stakes for the characters, but still focuses on the characters, so you get the sense that we're fucking around playing therapist while the world is on fire in the background, and it's presented as totally logical, because these guys can't save the world without a clear mind!! Despite being ... experts in their fields.

That's why, to me, Rook feels like a therapist while Shep feels like a leader.

Anyway, this is the formal end of the post but I wrote more on the specific character motivations of the Veilguard and why they don't work/feel trite to me and how that adds to Rook feeling like they're a therapist but it didn't fit with the rest of the post so under cut.

Another thing is that, while sometimes the problems of the Veilguard are technically higher stakes than the problems of the ME2 squad, there is a sense of "Hey do you actually need me for this?" And that I think is in part to the lacking motivations of the Veilguard. It's so unclear why some of them stick around that it becomes difficult to justify why they wouldn't just leave to fix their own issues.

(For example, Garrus asks us to help kill a guy. The guy isn't dangerous, he's not out there killing people or in possession of a superweapon ready to destroy a city. He's just an asshole and Garrus wants revenge. He could, technically, leave and just kill the guy himself. He knows where the guy is, so what's holding him back? Well, the job is. And Shepard is. Garrus wants Shep's help, because he doesn't trust himself to finish it on his own. He needs somebody to rely on, but he also knows that he can't just leave without Shep's permission, and that Shep needs him, too. Everything is on Shep's schedule, and there's no real time limit. His revenge can wait until Shep is ready to offer their help.

Neve is hunting an old rival who is a blood mage threatening to enslave her favorite city in all da world. It's pretty damn high stakes. But in my playthrough, Neve wasn't counting on Rook's help at all. In fact, she explicitly mentioned several times that she didn't. Yet, she still sat around and waited for their help. She didn't leave to deal with this on her own, didn't even consider it. But why not? What about Rook or this cause is keeping her there, especially since there's canonically time before the next big move and the issue is so high-stakes and pressing? People will die if she doesn't do something, yet she's sitting on her ass waiting for Rook, whose help she isn't counting on, to step up? What???)

Neve is introduced as being hired by Varric to find Solas, which she does. In the tutorial mission. She sticks around after Varric dies because ... she's in too deep now, I guess. She has to help save the world, you see. Even though all she wants is to go back to Minrathous and protect the people there. She wants your help to. Figure out some stuff. The famous big city detective needs the help of a person who's introduced as somebody who "thinks in straight lines" and whose nickname is probably a play on "rookie." She is not getting paid for this. She's doing this out of the kindness of her heart, even though most of her time on screen is spent dreaming of her favorite city in da world. She's not an expert in anything that has to do with the current plot, so she's in-fiction not really vital to keep around. Her role as a mage is made entirely pointless by the existence of Bellara and Emmrich. Supposedly her area of expertise is in blood magic ... despite hating it and not actually practicing it, on account of it being bad and evil. So she's an expert in killing blood mages, then?

Well, no. That's Lucanis. He's the resident mage killer ... who we find in an underwater prison, guarded by blood mages. I get there is a reason for why he was defeated, but the optics aren't great, ya know? We don't really free him as much as we lightly distract his guards, so he can bust out of the prison fully clothed and armored. He's suuper eager for revenge, but he's also been forcefully possessed. But that's okay, because we need his expertise for um. Killing mages. Which is what the Evanuris are. So this random possessed human guy will know better than anybody else how to kill the Evanuris. Sure. He decides to stick around on account of ... the Crows always finishing a contract. Who is paying him? Who is paying the Crows? His gam-gam ordered him to stay, she's basically offering us his services for freeing him. Guy is an indentured servant but acts like it's his choice, like it's an honor thing and not his grandma putting him in the toilet. And when it's time for him to show/offer his expertise in the field, he says "How am I supposed to fight a cloud?" which is fair enough, sure. But have you not fought mages before? Do you not have any reference for them doing weird shit at all? Do you not know how to disrupt rituals, break barriers? In the end, all he can practically do is hold the special knife and attempt to stick the pointy end into his target. Which my rogue Rook or Davrin or Taash chould've done. But gam-gam says to sit so he sits! It's not a very compelling motivation for this epic expert mage killer to just kinda. Stick around out of obligation. It could've been interesting, if he chafed against it or had to be won over, but he's just fine with it. It's treated as natural that this dude, who isn't even slightly an actual expert and is just a glorified knife holder and who isn't practically useful in any sense of the word, is still in the group. It's treated as natural that Rook has to go out of their way to help him clear his mind so he can hold the knife better next time, instead of just finding another guy to hold the knife. Maybe the spirit in him makes him stronger and more capable of fighting mages? No, the spirit is what made him miss in the first place, actually! So you have to help him figure it out or he'll miss again. DON'T ask somebody else to hold the knife though. It HAS TO BE Lucanis. Because he's the mage killer expert. Who missed. And can't handle mages.

Then we have Taash, who we need to kill the blighted dragons. They're the only dragon hunter around and have an encyclopedic knowledge of said dragons. Unfortunately the blighted state of the dragons that are actually necessary to kill are behaving in unexpected and different ways from normal dragons. They're literally manipulated by the Evanuris to be harder to kill. Making Taash's expertise moot. I didn't even have them in my party when I took on two dragons at once, and in fact the only dragons that Taash is presented as capable of killing are ones that they want us to kill. So this expert we recruit mostly introduces more dragons for us to kill that aren't actually threatening us in any way. The main time Taash has to show off their knowledge is when we use the dragon trap ... which was fashioned by Wardens. Who are all trained specifically to fight Archdemons. Who are dragons. That are blighted. Do you uh. Do you see my problem here. Taash also sticks around the Veilguard for inexplicable reasons. Mostly it seems they don't want to go home to their mother, which is fine, but this is a whole-ass adult, supposedly. They could go back to hunting dragons for the Lords, because they're written as too self-absorbed to really care about stepping up to the fight just for the sake of it. So despite them not really being useful in any way to the overall plot, we still have to help them figure out their gender identity, or else they won't be able to ... fight the blighted dragons. Which they couldn't fight. On account of the blight. Cool cool cool.

Then we have Emmrich, who is a professor and has shit to do. He is also presented as a Fade expert, while Bellara is somehow not, despite doing most of the Fade-related and artifact-related magic on-screen. Emmrich joins the Veilguard on account of um. Well we asked nicely, and he's a good guy, so he has to help save the world. Despite the fact that he's terrified of dying. Which he's far more likely to do after leaving his job. And the thing is, yeah, "the world might end so we need to stop that!" is a valid motivation, but if we accept it as the motivation of a central character whose plot we must find compelling, then why is it that it's only a few guys trying to save the world? This conflict is prestented as bigger than all the previous games combined, bigger than (the) Inquisition, which had literally entire armies and different branches and infrastructure for it's "smaller" conflict, and people were still volunteering and joining in droves, but here we're 8 guys? Are we meant to believe Emmrich's willingness to join the Veilguard is somehow unique to him, and that nobody else in the world would volunteer to join? When Harding exists, on the same team?

Speaking of, Harding is a character who can really get away with "I wanna save the world", because her joining the Inquisition is literally how she got into the plot in the first place. She's a joiner. She joins heroic causes. So her having this sort of bare-bones but noble motivation works. Same with Davrin. Bellara seems to join out of both curiosity and guilt, which are interesting enough reasons and come through visibly in her subplot and characterization, but more importantly, she doesn't have anything holding her back that might take priority until she finds out her brother is alive. Her sticking around also makes some sense because she's ya know. An elf mage Fade expert. Or sorry an elf artifacts expert.

I'm not saying "somebody's gotta do it!" or "it's the right thing to do!" aren't valid motivations, they clearly are, but there's gotta be more to it, especially when it comes to characters who have something to lose like Emmrich. My guy is terrified of death but he's such a good dude that he jumps into this life-threatening conflict without a second thought? But then gets so "distracted" by his wacky scientist former colleague that he needs our help figuring it out? Huh???

Um. I didn't have a conclussy for this part of the post so. bye

[astrobydalia]

This is like very random but I’m working on a post about Scorpio Moon and I was thinking that Optimus Prime from Transformers is a good example of healthy Scorpio moon or at least his character reminds me of that energy for some reason

The way he was so skeptical of trusting humans at first because he was firm about protecting his people. And even after he saw not all humans were bad he only fully trusted those who proved themselves to him and his friends and he was always very careful and observant about the deals and alliances he’d make with others as well as their intentions. I think all of that is a very balanced manifestation of scorpio moons’ cunning and “suspicious” nature while still being empathetic as well as their deep protectiveness.

He’s also very mysterious like we hardly know any about this character but his people still trust him blindly as a leader cause he gives his friends hope that they can start over and keep going despite planet being destroyed and scorpio moons are good at mobilizing people through something emotional like that (rebirth)

Also this character’s personality revolves around war and this whole idea of survival and reinvention. Not saying scorpio moons are obsessed with conflict but they tend to live a tense life where they are forced to change and reinvent themselves otherwise they won’t “survive”

I didn’t wanna include this in the post that im doing cause Im not confident the interpretation is fully accurate or insightful lol and also I thought it was a random character to choose 😭

Also lmk if you want me to do this with more fictional characters cause I’m enjoying that very much!

[fayecreates]

I Will Die Your Daughter.

Premise: uhhh totes not a self insert because my day left me a few weeks ago and im now only coming to terms with it… you and sevika have daddy issues and y’all talk about it. The reader is an errand runner for Silco around S1. Also fem reader, Sevika doesnt like men, sorry.

A/N: 100% inspired by robotxm’s edit on tiktok, please go watch it it’s the best edit ever. I’m also making this bc im tired of all Sevika fics, as beautifully constructed as they are, are all smut. also its not a crime to make stuff up so dont be mean to me… i may or may not be taking requests…

Warnings: mentions of abandonment, allusion to harmful habits/behaviors (kinda leaning towards self harm), daddy issues i guess?? Probably a bit ooc Sevika

It was late at night, the new moon up in the sky barely allowing sight. You were tired to say the least, not only physically from all of stupid small yet tedious tasks from Silco, but also just your life. Nobody thought it was easy growing up in Zaun, at least compared to Piltover. Sure you had food, a roof over your head, and a blanket to keep you warm at night, but a part of you still felt like a desperate little kid. Dad was not around much, staying for a few days, taking some cash and then leaving to go do whatever he wanted. It sucked for sure, but it was a routine at least. Once he really left, not on some vacation but just for the fun of it, it just felt weirdly empty. Today being the five year anniversary of these untouched emotions didn’t help work go by faster either.

Being Silco’s errand-girl also meant being up for his beck and call. sleep weighed down your eyes, it was only one in the morning but it felt like six already. Staying in the little ‘home’ with all Silco’s goons was weird, it was like living with all your estranged cousins who you couldn’t tell if they hated you or not, well all but Sevika. She wasn’t the stereotypical ‘nice girl’ but staying by her for a while now wasn’t so horrible as the rest. Maybe it was trust, maybe it was some weird friendship, either way Sevika was the one and only girl you could call to for help.

Walking towards the kitchen, deciding that maybe a glass of cold water would wake you up miraculously, you saw Sevika sitting at the usually empty breakfast nook. Giving her a small nod, barely having enough energy to muster up the ghost of a smile, you walked towards to cupboards. Grabbing a shitty mug, you just get some water from the sink, sure it probably wasn’t the best for you considering Zaun, but it didn’t matter all too much. Standing at the counter, a ways away from Sevika, you take moments to sip then stare at the wall.

“Something wrong?” Sevika’s voice rang out, her voice was rough but not in an emotional way. You glanced up at the sudden question, looking at her with a semi surprised expression. You knew people didn’t care, i mean could you blame them? People down there spent their lives working to just barely survive, caring or even asking was rare. You shook your head slightly, it was a lie of course. How could anything be right? Everyday just felt like the knife dug deeper into your chest. She simply hummed in response, she didn’t buy it but she wouldn’t pry anymore.

“…he left me five years ago today.” You spoke up after a second, like a rush of adrenaline just to say something so simple. Your eyes stayed locked with the chipped paint. She glanced back to you, her expression not moving much but the movement alone showed her attention was on you.

“Some boyfriend or something?” Sevika asked, sure the statement was unclear but you had already wanted to just yell sorry and run off. “My dad.” You say, your voice hinted with a sort of apathy. “I dont know, i dont really miss him to be honest, it just sucks i guess…” You continue, it wasn’t honest, it didn’t just ‘suck’ it felt horrible. Keeping up a constant unfeeling mask felt like living in the wrong skin, you felt things so deeply but you couldn’t risk showing it.

“…i get you, dads suck.” Sevika says, snapping you out of your headspace. You looked towards her, her arm was relaxed, holding a cup of god knows what. Her expression was the same as always, but she looked at you in a way no on else bothered to try. She was simply understanding, connecting even, but it was such a strange surprise. “…they really do.” You respond, a look of almost happiness if it weren’t for the context. “You wanna talk about it? I can tell it’s a bit more than just ‘it sucks’.” Sevika says, her tone a little joking, only to keep the lighter mood.

“…its not like that was the first time he left me, he’d do it like once a week. He’s done it on some of the most important part of my life.” You explain, your body turned towards her, your hand grasping the handle of the mug, but your eyes never met her as though it would make you really understand each word. “Sometimes i wish… i wish he’d like me enough to just come back. He never wrote to me, he never dropped by, it’s like i never existed to him.” You continue, anger growing in your voice just slightly.

“I want him to just stand me, im not asking for the world!” You say, growing a bit too agitated over the long over issue. “I hate him… but i loved him too. I was always a daddy’s girl, y’know i was a tomboy, a girl who loved all the stuff he did. I dont know what i did wrong, i was just a kid. When did i just become not good enough? I got better, i stopped hurting myself, i got better grades in school, i was a good person!” You yell even if it wasn’t super loud, your tone changing from anger to just sadness and confusion. Your eyes finally met Sevika’s, she was just look at you, giving small nods when you finished talking. She didn’t even have that pitying expression everyone had when you even mentioned feeling down. You stayed silent, really realizing that you weren’t just speaking in your head.

“It’s not your fault.” Sevika said as though it were basic knowledge, not in a condescending way though. “No matter how hard you change, he’d probably still stay away.” She says, her tone was a bit comforting.

“…i know… it just pisses me off, sorry.” You apologize, you just felt bad for wasting her time on something she didnt really care about. “For what, answering the question I asked?” She asked rhetorically, putting her forearm on the counter and leaning forward. “Stop saying sorry all the time, you’re not wrong.” She reprimanded, looking at her with the same semi soft look. All you wanted to do was say ‘sorry’ again.

“…okay…” you muttered, knowing you needed to respond but not in a pathetic way. You shift your weight on your feet, leaning a bit to the side. “I won’t like and say i know how you feel, but i didn’t always like my old man either.” She says, taking a sip of her drink. “We’d fight, we’d make up, but never once did he try to leave me.” She says simply. “Ouch.” You respond, taking it as a jab to your lack of present father. “Not what i meant, I mean your dad’s a douche. No real man would leave their child like that, especially not you.” She continues, giving you almost a compliment? Your expression changed again, it was one of surprise and maybe a bit flushed.

“… i dont know how to feel better, its like everything i try fails.” You admit, your tone quiet instead of its usual projection. You take a sip of water, hoping it’ll do something for you. “It won’t feel better.” She says bluntly, standing up from her stool and starting to slowly walk around the counter. “It might feel less bad day by day, but thats if you stop avoiding it.” Sevika says placing her hand on your shoulder in an attempt of comfort. “And saying that you don’t care, when you so obviously do, is avoiding it.” She says leaning down just a bit.

You didn’t know what to say, your eyes started to tear up a bit, definitely not by choice. You let your head fall, refusing to meet Sevika’s eyes. You just started crying, it was rare, every once in a while you’d spend hours sobbing and punching till it felt fine, but this was different. It was a moment of vulnerability, you didn’t know why Sevika chose you to give a moment of her little time open. You felt guilty, you always felt guilty though. Her hand pull you closer for a small hug. It was for sure awkward, but you wrapped your arms around her waist, burying your face into her shoulder.

You cried probably a bit too much, tears stained her shirt. Either way she kept patting your back as you attempt to not make an awkward noise. Sevika didn’t care though, no matter how awkward or weird the things you did it was no big deal.

She cared, unconditionally and irrevocably.