#it's just one of the obvious facts of life

[iydiamartinx]

THE TODD-LER PROBLEM

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader ft. batfam

divider by: cafekitsune & omi-resources word count: 2.9k synopsis: Jason gets hit with a magical regression spell during a mission and ends up… five years old. Still foul-mouthed. Still somehow armed. a/n: Don't ask me how or why I wrote this, it just happened... warning: This is utterly unhinged, its a crack fic

There were many things you expected when you opened your apartment door at 3 a.m.

Your boyfriend, Jason Todd, in full gear. Shrunken to approximately three feet tall. And trying to pick your lock with a paperclip. was not one of them.

You blinked once. Twice. “…Jason?”

The tiny figure looked up, scowling, with his tiny leather jacket zipped to the chin and a modified red helmet under one arm. His helmet was clearly a custom fit because of course someone on the team had taken the time to resize his gear. Probably Tim. Or Alfred. Or Jason himself while he’d been cursed into a fun-sized menace.

He tilted his head. “Took you long enough.”

You stared. “You’re three feet tall.”

“Yeah?” he snapped, voice high-pitched but filled with all the rage of a war vet denied his nap. “Well you’re late, an’ I’m cold, and some guy in a sparkly cape turned me into a—” he waved a tiny hand wildly— “a frickin’ gremlin!”

You stared.

“I mean child!” he corrected, stomping past your legs and into your apartment like he owned it. “A frickin’ child. I have to use a stool to pee. I’m livin’ in hell.”

“Excuse me—”

He pushed past your legs like an angry little linebacker. “Also, someone tried to feed me carrots at the manor. Carrots. Like I’m a damn rabbit. I had to escape.”

“Jason, are you seriously—”

“—And Alfred was this close to making me take a bubble bath.”

You raised a brow. “You love bubble baths.”

“Adult me loves them. Toddler me has dignity.”

You shut the door with a sigh, already regretting every life choice that had led to this moment. “Fine. One night. But if you pee on anything, I’m calling Bruce.”

30 MINUTES IN...

You stared at the miniature version of Jason Todd standing dead center in your apartment. You still hadn’t gotten over the fact he was now a child.

He stood with his arms crossed. Eyebrows furrowed. Scowling so hard his little nose scrunched up. The resized red helmet was sitting crookedly on his head, and somehow, somehow, he was still wearing a tiny leather jacket like it was battle armor.

“Jason,” you said slowly, kneeling down to his eye level, “where did you get the gun?”

His eyes narrowed, suspiciously smug. “Trade secret.”

“Jason.”

He pouted. “You left your sock drawer unlocked.”

You blinked. “My sock drawer doesn’t have—”

Realization dawned.

You groaned, standing up and rubbing your face. “You hid weapons in my sock drawer?”

“Of course I did,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What if you got mugged doing laundry?”

You turned on your heel, already pulling out your phone. “Zatanna needs to reverse this spell immediately. How is his five year old self more dangerous than his adult one.” You muttered to yourself. 

From behind you, Jason stomped his tiny boot. “I am not five! I’m five-and-a-half!”

You didn’t even look back. You just sighed and started texting Alfred for backup.

And possibly restraints.

Or duct tape.

Maybe both.

ONE HOUR IN...

You found him in the kitchen standing on the counter—barefoot, wild-haired, and determined. His tiny arms were stretched high above his head, fingers pawing at the top shelf with the sheer willpower of someone who believed they could reach it if they just tried hard enough.

“What,” you asked slowly, “are you doing?”

“I want Oreos,” he said, like it was obvious.

“There are Goldfish crackers right there,” you offered, gesturing to the open box on the counter beside him.

He looked at you like you’d insulted his ancestors. “I’m not a toddler. I have standards.”

He took them with both hands, giving you a small, pointed sniff of derision—as if your earlier suggestion of Goldfish had been not just offensive, but a personally insult.

Then, without another word, he hopped off the counter and disappeared down the hallway like a sugar-fueled cryptid preparing for war.

TWO HOURS IN...

You finally managed to corral him in front of the television, queued up some harmless cartoon with talking animals, and tiptoed into the kitchen to make yourself a much-needed snack.

When you came back, the cartoon was gone and you found him watching John Wick 3 with unblinking intensity.

You stared in horror. “You are not allowed to watch this.”

He didn’t flinch. “Too late.”

You snatched the remote from the armrest. “You’re five.”

“Five an’ a half!” he shouted, voice pitching up in outrage. “An’ I know all ‘bout vengeance! I lived it! Lemme watch Keanu!”

“No.”

“I will bite you.”

“You already did!”

He smiled. “And I’d do it again.”

You lunged for the remote.

He let out a feral shriek. The sound pierced the air like a banshee’s war cry. There was a flurry of motion, limbs, and one elbow jabbed directly into your ribcage. The remote went flying.

Somehow… you lost.

And there he was, not ten minutes later, curled in a blanket like a smug little gremlin, happily finishing John Wick 3.

You sighed, already pulling out your phone to call in reinforcements.

Alfred picked up on the first ring.

“Please tell me patrol is over,” you whispered, glancing warily toward the living room. “I need backup. Immediate. Preferably armed with sedatives and maybe a priest.”

There was the soft clink of a teacup on saucer before Alfred replied, calm as ever. “Master Grayson and Master Drake should be available in a few hours.”

You groan, “Anyone sooner?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” He said.

You hung up and returned to the living room.

Jason was kicking his feet now, reclined like royalty, humming the John Wick fight music under his breath. Every few seconds he’d mutter something like “yeah, get him, Keanu,” or “double tap, baby,” as if he were part of the director’s commentary.

By the time 300 started, he had risen.

He stood on the couch with all the solemnity of a war general addressing his troops, fists clenched at his sides. Then, with zero warning, he let out a piercing battle cry—“SPARTAAAAAA!”—and began hurling Goldfish crackers across the room like they were flaming javelins.

You didn’t bother trying to stop him.

You just slid slowly down the wall, sat on the floor beside the fridge, and accepted your fate.

THREE HOURS IN...

You were gone for five minutes.

Five.

You’d left him watching Love Island.

He’d finally—finally—fallen asleep, sprawled across the couch. The soft drone of British contestants filled the apartment, and for a precious, fragile moment, there was peace.

Just enough to sneak off for five minutes. That was all the time it took to use the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face in the vain hope that you could survive another hour of this gremlin-sized Gotham menace.

When you returned, Love Island was still playing on the TV and Jason was nowhere in the living room. 

“Jason?” you called out.

You heard a noise come from the kitchen

Your stomach dropped.

You rushed in, skidding to a halt just inside the doorway.

The drawer was open.

That drawer.

The one that held the scissors.

The duct tape.

Your spare burner phone.

And, apparently, your last shred of peace.

You turned around slowly—already feeling the weight of regret in your bones.

Tiny Jason stood proudly in your hallway wearing a cardboard chest plate, duct-taped shoulder pads, and your colander on his head.

He raised a wooden spoon like a sword. “I’m Red Hood 2.0,” he declared in a voice that was both too high-pitched and far too serious. “Call me… Lil’ Death.”

You stared at him in exhausted horror.

“…Where’s the rest of the duct tape?”

He gave a wide, toothy grin.

“In mah hair.”

Of course it was.

FOUR HOURS IN...

Alfred had finally sent backup.

It was Damian.

By that point, you didn’t care—anything to give you ten minutes of silence and the chance to remember what breathing felt like.

And for the first ten minutes, it was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

You froze in the hallway, a familiar sense of foreboding slithering down your spine.

Then came the scream.

“YOU LITTLE DEVIL!”

Tiny battle cries echoed from the living room, followed by the unmistakable clang of steel meeting something very much not steel.

You ran in to find Damian standing on your coffee table, sword in hand, while Toddler Jason swung at his legs with a plastic baseball bat wrapped in duct tape and thumbtacks.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!”

“He challenged me,” Damian snapped, breath steady as he parried a wild swing with the flat of his blade.

Jason bared his baby teeth, eyes gleaming with chaotic glee. “He tried to steal my Oreos and called me a baby!”

“Because you are,” Damian barked, deflecting another spoon-wrapped strike. “This is undignified!”

“I’m a toddler, you rich goblin!”

You slapped a hand to your forehead. “Jason, drop the bat.”

“NEVER!”

“Damian, he’s five!”

FIVE HOURS IN...

Damian was still on the windowsill, arms crossed, radiating hatred like a heat lamp.

He hadn’t spoken in nearly an hour. Not a single word since the incident—the one where he lost to a sugar-crazed toddler wielding a thumbtack-wrapped baseball bat and unyielding vengeance.

You knew that silence. Knew it too well.

He was plotting something. You just didn’t know what.

Not that you had time to dwell on it—because that was when backup number two finally arrived.

The door swung open and in walked Dick and Tim, both dressed down but wide-eyed, scanning the wreckage of your apartment like first responders to a war zone.

Jason—still pint-sized, still radiating the unholy combination of espresso and anarchy—lit up like a demonic Christmas tree at the sight of them.

“Well, well, look who finally showed up,” he chirped, spinning once in his little leather jacket and cardboard armour. “The Backstreet Boys of Disappointment!”

Dick froze mid-step. “I—what?”

Tim looked at you with the tiredness of a man who’d seen too much. “Is he still feral?”

“Worse,” you muttered. “He’s refueled. He ate three cookies and found my instant espresso jar.”

Dick’s eyes widened. “You gave him caffeine?!”

“I didn’t give him anything! He’s a damn toddler who still retained his lock picking skills!”

Across the room, Jason twirled dramatically and pointed at Tim. “Timmy,” he sing-songed, “wanna play hide and seek? I’ll hide… you seek therapy.”

Tim blinked slowly. “You’ve created a monster.”

You pointed at him with your coffee. “He was with you all when this happened.”

Jason pivoted toward Dick, eyes glinting. “Hey, Disco. How’s that permanent sidekick gig goin’? Still doin’ flips no one asked for?”

Dick narrowed his eyes. “You wanna go, tiny man?”

Jason smirked. “Bring it, Jazz Hands.”

And that’s all it took.

Two minutes later

Jason darted between them like a pinball on fire.

Tim lunged with a blanket like he was trying to trap a wild animal. Jason bit straight through it.

Not metaphorically—actually bit through it.

Dick went in next, trying to cut him off with a broad lunge, but Jason hurled a half-full sippy cup at his face with terrifying accuracy. It burst on contact. Sticky apple juice everywhere.

From the windowsill, Damian observed the descent into madness with narrowed eyes and smug silence. Like an evil cat waiting for the moment to pounce.

He chose his moment well.

With a cry of, “FOR HONOR AND BLOOD!” Damian vaulted from the sill into the fray.

He mostly landed on Tim. But the intent was there.

You stood in the doorway, clutching a first aid kit in one hand and your last shred of sanity in the other. It was unclear which would run out first.

Jason popped up from behind the couch like a goblin jack-in-the-box, eyes gleaming with the unholy thrill of chaos. In one hand, he wielded his modified bat like a sword. In the other, a full roll of duct tape, raised like a grenade.

“I DECLARE A BLOOD FEUD!” he roared.

Tim yelped and ducked just as the tape roll whizzed past his head and smacked into the wall with a dull thunk. “He almost took my eye out!”

“WHO GAVE HIM NEGAN’S BAT?!” Dick yelled, backpedaling fast as Jason swung in his direction with surprising force for someone who barely cleared three feet.

“He made it,” Damian grunted, trying to deflect the strike with a throw pillow.

The swing knocked the pillow clean out of his hands.

In the scramble to dodge the next blow, Dick and Damian collided—feet tangled, limbs flailing—and crashed to the floor in a graceless heap.

“WHO’S THE SIDEKICK NOW, SUCKERS?!” he cackled, arms thrown wide like a gladiator demanding cheers from the crowd.

On the floor below him, Damian and Dick groaned in tandem, still tangled in a heap of limbs and wounded pride.

You stood safely behind the armchair, one hand gripping your phone, filming the chaos. Might as well have some blackmail for later.

“You’re going to regret this when you’re big again,” you warned, deadpan. 

“I’LL REGRET NOTHING!” Jason howled, launching himself into Tim’s back like a rabid possum.

Tim shrieked, flailing. “GET HIM OFF! HE’S IN MY HAIR—HE’S IN MY HAIR!”

“He’s like a feral koala,” Dick muttered, as he untangled himself from Damian.

Jason clung tighter, teeth bared, voice giddy with power. “Say sorry for the replacing me and I’ll only ruin your eyebrows!”

“Are we seriously doing this now?” Tim, flailing, shouted, “I didn’t replace you! You died!”

Everything stopped.

For half a second, the air went dead silent.

“TIM!” you and Dick shouted in unison, horrified.

Jason’s response was to let out a piercing shriek of righteous indignation.

“YOU VOTED ME OFF THE ISLAND!”

“WHAT DAMN ISLAND?!”

From the floor, Dick wheezed, “We need to start a support group.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “You’re all weak.”

“I don’t see you winning against him, demon spawn!” Tim barked, still trying to dislodge Jason from his spine. “You surrendered three minutes in!”

“I did not surrender,” Damian snapped.

Tim finally managed to pry him off with a desperate twist and a shove, sending Jason rolling back onto the couch in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

Everyone froze.

Jason huffed, catching his breath where he lay sprawled on the couch. His curls were tousled, cheeks flushed, eyes glittering with unspent mischief. For one brief, shining moment, it almost looked like the storm had passed.

Dick rose to his feet slowly, warily, hands lifted in surrender.

“Okay,” he said, breathless but hopeful. “Can we finally all just… relax—?”

You took a cautious step forward, narrowing your eyes as you noted the look on his face. “Jason. What are you doing now?”

He turned to you slowly, far too slowly, a smile already creeping onto his face.

Dick glanced over, confused, just in time for Jason to pivot on his heel.

“THIS! IS! SPARTAAAAA!!!”

And then his tiny foot shot up and kicked Dick square in the jewels.

Dick dropped like a sack of bricks, letting out a high-pitched strangled wheeze as he crumpled back onto the floor.

“…Who let him watch 300?” Tim groaned, not even pretending to be surprised anymore.

You winced, trying not to look at Dick who was curled into a fetal position.

Jason raised his arms, victorious. “TONIGHT, WE DINE IN—WHAT’S THAT PLACE WITH CHICKY NUGGIES?!”

“…McDonald’s,” Dick croaked weakly from the floor.

Jason nodded solemnly, his reign unquestioned.

“McDonald’s.”

SIX HOURS IN...

You were exhausted.

The apartment looked like a toy store had exploded. There were still thumbtacks embedded in the coffee table, juice stains on the ceiling, and possibly a spoon lodged in the bookshelf. You didn’t want to know.

The others had practically fled—limping, muttering, and swearing.

And Jason? Jason had finally agreed to get ready for bed after a long, drawn-out battle of wills that involved one timeout, two bribes, and exactly ten minutes of him growling about how “Peter Parker wouldn’t last five minutes in Crime Alley.”

Now, he sat on the couch, arms crossed and sulking in a pair of oversized Spider-Man pajamas—the only ones you’d been able to find. His curls were still slightly matted from duct tape, and there was a Band-Aid on his cheek from another brawl he’d got in with Damian.

He glared at you over the rim of his sippy cup.

“This not over,” he mumbled darkly. “I know where you sleep. I’mma get payback.”

“Sure you will, Jason,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“I’ll put ketchup in your shoes.”

You tucked him in on the couch, pulling the blanket around him as he curled up like a tiny, angry cinnamon roll.

He muttered something else under his breath, unintelligible, mostly grumble. “…Night-night,” he muttered, already half-asleep. 

THE NEXT MORNING...

Jason woke up full-sized, shirtless, confused, and sprawled across your couch.

 He blinked up at the ceiling, brow furrowed, throat dry.

“…What the hell?”

You strolled in, far too cheerful for someone who had survived a toddler warlord just a few hours prior. You tossed your phone into his lap.

You strolled in, tossing a phone into his lap.

“Morning, Lil’ Death. I made a slideshow.”

He looked down at the photos. There he was—pouty, covered in crumbs, mid-battle with his brothers, wearing  cardboard chest plate held together with masking tape and colander strapped to his head like a war crown. One had him dead asleep with his face smashed into a pillow, cuddling a stuffed penguin.

Jason groaned into his hands. “Kill me now.”

“I’d rather show Bruce.”

His head snapped up. “You wouldn’t.”

You grinned. “Wanna bet?”

[tobesolnelyx]

Hi!! I'm a huge fan of your blog!! Just wanted to say you make every day of my life so much better💗

Okay, so we’ve got the fratboys Shauna, Lottie, Jackie, and Nat… but how do you think they would react to a pregnant R? Who’d be the most excited? And… could someone have been careless on purpose? 👀 I’d love to hear your thoughts!

— juno || fratboy!yellowjackets x pregnant!reader 🌫️

a/n: thank you so much anon! that’s so sweet <3. read that and immediately thought about juno by sabrina carpenter 😭

summary: your girlfriend accidentally knocked you up! fluff. unexpected pregnancy. g!p yellowjackets girlies.

warnings: none! pure fluff!

shauna shipman who is terrified at the begging. you come to her, pregnancy test is in your hand and before she have a chance to greet you, you push small thing into her fingers. she stares at that, then at you, and you see how colours just drain off her face. you don’t have to say anything. of course she’s smart enough to understand. for once in her life she’s serious. thoughts are racing in her head, wondering when you two forgot about protection. well…you had many occasions, actually.

but once she’s used to that thought? she goes insane. she insists to do everything. she cooks, cleans, brings groceries. you try to tell her that you’re fine, you’re able to do things by yourself. not like she’s listening. she nods, acknowledging it, but still do all that.

she reads every single article in internet about being a mom, how to take care of someone pregnant, how you’d know if it’ll be girl or a boy…she even adjust diet for you. she doesn’t orders you what to eat or do, but she’s always there with advice. she actually might know more about pregnancy than you.

not to mention that she absolutely panics at first, when your waters breaks down. fortunately, she’s smart enough to get her shit together in time. overall? she’s going to be a great parent. maybe a little bit overprotective but still.

lottie matthews who laughs at you in disbelief at first. she acts like it’s all a good joke and you’re just messing with her. once she get used to thought that you’re really pregnant, she needs solid ten minutes to proceed. she sits on your bed and stares at the wall. later that day, she wraps arms around you, gently caressing your belly.

“i’ll take care of everything, i will,” she murmurs into your neck. and you know that no matter what you’ll decide, she’ll be there to help. to make things better.

the next day, she wakes up early. she goes around the apartment, studying it. at the end of this weird journey, when you’re in the kitchen, she lets out a small tsk, and hitting dad pose, she says:

“we need a new one,” she states and you furrow your brows.

“new…?” you stare at her.

“apartment,” she sighs like she’s talking about something obvious. “with another room. for our kid.” she explains. “unless you decided that you don’t want to…?”

and with that, she buys new apartment next week. not like it’s much for her dad to pay. even if her family is usually totally shitty, her parents are more than ready to give you financial support. so lottie decides to spoil this kid before it’s even born. of course, she arranges room, she buys furniture and assembles it. like proper baby daddy.

jackie taylor who offers you support immediately. of course she’s terrified. it’s not something she really planned in her life. not that early at least. but she guesses you might be way more scared than she is. god, at the end she’s not the one carrying her baby. and jackie is always there to take responsibility. she doesn’t know how she’s going to explain all that to her parents. or how she’ll manage to be a parent, but she’s there.

so she gives you kind of a pep talk. well, sweet pep talk. she reassures you, tell you that you’ll be great, that you two gonna get through this together. and she really means it cause… in the inside she’s excited. something about the fact that she managed to impregnate you is extremely hot to her.

she starts making plans. obviously she makes sure you’re okay, that you’re ready to keep this child. then, on those late evenings, she curls at your side. she spreads kisses all over your belly and rambles to this kid…well, fetus more like.

“you’re gonna play soccer,” she states and you shake your head, giggling softly. “or not. it’s your decision,” she adds sheepishly. “but if you do, i’ll make you a star player.”

“jax,” you say, brushing her hair. “you know that they can’t hear you yet?” she huffs only at that.

“shhh, im creating child-parent bond,” she says seriously like it’s the most important mission right now. with that, she keeps talking about everything she’s planning to do as a parent.

also! she’s on instant by your side when you say you need massages cause your back or your legs hurts. she can gently loosing knots for hours. everything for you. and it’s pretty much godly experience — her hands are stronger than they seem to be.

natalie scatorccio who denies it. you tell her that, and few minutes later she’s outside, taking a long walk. she doesn’t go drinking, but she just leaves. for a moment you’re scared that she won’t come back. regardless, she does. she always do. after few hours of pacing around the campus and trying to proceed everything, she returns to you.

she slips in your sharing bed, her hands gently wraps around your belly and she spreads kisses all over your neck. her fingers are tracing your abdomen. like she’s scared to hurt something so fragile. this little life growing inside you.

“we’ll get through this together,” she murmurs into your skin and you finally relax after hours of uncertainty. “i’ll be there, i promise, i just…” she presses another kiss and you melt. “needed a moment.” she finishes quietly.

natalie is scared — no wonders. not like she ever had proper parent figure. and sure as hell, she doesn’t exactly knows what to do. her eyes widens anytime you grimaces because of pain or discomfort. her hands are tentative, careful and soft. especially when she touches your stomach.

she’s stubborn to do everything for you. only to keep you well and happy. and even if she doesn’t exactly know what to do, or god, how this whole being parent works, she tries. she helps you to pick clothes for kid. she’s there to soothe your doubts and fears. sometimes you see her in the bathroom or living room, when she reads on her phone one of those articles how to raise a child. she won’t be like her parents. she can’t be.

[yanadolls]

ONE OF YOUR GIRLS TONIGHT ✧˖°.

||| FEATURING: REO MIKAGE X FEM READER

||| 18+, MDNI ── .✦ drunk sex, semi-public sex, praising, degrading, petnames, slight obsession, spanking, breeding kink, almost being caught

||| SUMMARY: reo attends yet another boring party with his parents, but when he meets you and learns how uninterested you are in him at first, he immediately yearns for you.

-

reo adjusted his tie in the bathroom as he stood in front of a mirror, head a bit fuzzy from the alcohol he consumed. it was really the only way he could handle these gatherings- they were so lame! he hated that his parents forced him to attend to keep up the mikage image even in his adult life, and he grew pretty exhausted already of the long business conversations. however, he knew he had to go back out there so with a grumble, he pushed the door open and exited. as he was rounding the corner to head towards the ballroom, he felt a body collide with his chest.

"oh, sorry."

"it's okay, i'm sorry as well. i wasn't looking where i was going."

upon hearing the feminine voice, his purple eyes roamed down to see who he bumped into, only to find out it was quite as beautiful girl. from your dress to your makeup, you were breathtaking and even he could admit that. considering reo was tipsy already and not very interested in going back to the party, he decided he might as well flirt a bit. a charming smile came to his lips as he took your smaller hand in his and placed a chaste kiss to the back of it.

"my, my. you're a beauty, dolly. which family are you attending with?"

'she shouldn't be too difficult.' the thought ran through his mind.

although when his eyes trailed back up to you, his smile faltered a bit. he wasn't met with the typical blushing face any other girl would've had- no, instead, you looked at him with a look that screamed how weirded out you were.

"thanks, i guess.. but i don't think i'm gonna give you that information. bye."

the shock was obvious on his face as you yanked your hand out from his and walked off. this was something reo was NOT used to. did this girl seriously just reject his advance? well, screw you anyway! he only wanted a distraction.

that's what he told himself as he grumbled back to the ballroom, getting another glass of champagne.

the more reo drank, the more bothered he was by the fact he actually had gotten rejected. it wasn't long before he was pretty drunk, and found himself eyeing you from across the room way more than he should've. the longer he stared at you, he felt an odd feeling bubble up in his chest. you were really gorgeous, and the tight dress that hugged your pretty curves and showed off your thighs was making the room a bit hotter for him.

the whole night reo continued to try to make moves on you, but they were all brushed off or shut down swiftly. he grew evermore frustrated as time went on, but he refused to give up. it just wasn't in his nature.

after a couple more drinks of your own, you were quite drunk as well, stumbling out of the ballroom to get some air. reo followed you and before you could rush down the hall from him, he grabbed your wrist tightly, spinning you around and bringing you to his chest. he glared down at you.

"am i ugly or something?" he started, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

you were unable to get out of his hold as his other hand moved to grip your waist- not tight enough to hurt, but enough to make you stay put.

"that's not even the problem! i just don't want some rich playboy trying to make me one of his toys!"

reo growled at your words. "that's not what i'm trying to do. is it so hard to believe i'm just interested in you?"

"yeah, it actually is."

"then let me prove it to you! i'll show you it's worth it to take a risk with me."

reo didn't know why he was so desperate to have you, considering the fact he had only just seen your face for the first time two hours ago. maybe it was the fact that you were so different from other potential sweethearts he had in the past, or that you didn't give him what he wanted from the start. whatever it was, reo didn't care. he needed to make you his.

a large hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him. without any warning, he crashed his lips against yours, alcohol swimming in his mind. to his surprise, you actually reciprocated, moving your hands to hold his face as your tongues pushed against each others. you were giving him a chance, and reo couldn't be happier.

was it inappropriate to be making out in the middle of a hallway in someone else's estate, where both of your families could see you? 100%. although, it didn't seem like either of you cared as reo gently pushed you against the wall, hand hooking under one of your thighs and lifting it to hold against his hip.

"fuck, m'gonna make you mine."

reo grumbled on your lips, his much taller body caging you against the wall. it was a blur how or when you both moved into a nearby closet, but it happened; and now reo was sitting you on a heavy box, spreading your legs open hungrily.

"to think you tried to keep me from this.. gonna fuck you so hard for that."

you felt embarrassment rush to your face at his words, arousal pooling between your thighs at the mere thought. his thumb pressed against your sensitive clit through your damp panties, eliciting a moan from you. reo's cock twitched in his pants as he harshly tugged the lacey panty down to your ankles, revealing your glistening pussy. he couldn't help but groan at the sight, pressing his free hand roughly against his aching and throbbing hard-on.

"sooo fucking pretty. gonna ruin you for anyone else, princess."

"c'mon, reo.. just fuck me already.."

reo hissed at your words, unbuckling his belt in a rush. normally, he would've teased you for hours on end just for doing what you did tonight, but he was too drunk and horny to care. all he wanted right now was to be deep inside your gummy walls. he let out a small sigh as he released his dick from his boxers, only pushing his pants down to his thighs before he grabbed you and held you in his arms. your legs instantly hooked around his waist as you prepared yourself for what was about to happen. reo was big- bigger than anyone you had ever been with.

"oh, fuck!"

your legs trembled as he slowly pushed into your tight hole, the stretch from his large cock making your mind go blank. it hurt like hell at first, but once he was fully in, your pain turned to pleasure. reo pressed your back against the wall as he fucked you with experience, mouth sloppily biting at your neck to scatter dark hickeys across your smooth skin. moans spilled from your pretty lips as you felt your guts being totally rearranged by the handsome rich boy, your hands scratching at the back of his suit.

"pussy feels incredible, baby." he groaned out, "like it was made for me and only me."

his words made you clench around his dick, giving more pleasure for the both of you. reo continued abusing your poor cunt, silencing your whines and moans by kissing you passionately.

however, even in such an intoxicated and heated state, reo faintly picked up on the sounds of footsteps coming down the hallway. his movements halted in you, much to your dismay.

"ugh, asshole! why'd you stop-"

reo quickly covered your mouth, although he didn't pull out of you. he brought your body closer to his, dropping his head down beside your ear so he could whisper.

"don't make a sound."

before you could question why he was requesting such a thing, sudden voices could be heard approaching the closet. your heart fell to your stomach.

"someone said they heard weird noises coming from this direction.. what could it be?"

"darling, it could just be from outside."

the couple who were throwing the party in their own home were one door away from finding THE mikage reo balls deep into a girl he just met. you bit down on your bottom lip harshly, but a part of you couldn't help but feel more aroused at the thought of being caught getting your pussy pounded by the purple haired man. unintentionally, you clenched around reo, who held back a noise at the feeling- but barely.

"the hell are you doing?!" he whisper hissed at you, "you trying to get us caught?"

no, you weren't. honestly, it would be a horrifying situation to be placed in if the two discovered what was happening in their unlocked closet just a few feet from them. maybe it was because of the alcohol you consumed, but you weren't even thinking about that consequence you would face as you clenched down on reo again, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the door handle jiggled as you both held your breaths in horror.

"..excuse me!"

a sudden voice called from further away, and the doorknob was released.

"there's a stray cat in the bathroom down the other hallway! it appears to have snuck in through the window!"

what a lucky coincidence. footsteps backed away from the closet you were both hiding.

"oh..that must be what the noises were. come, honey. we have a cat to catch!"

only did you sigh of relief once the footsteps had totally faded, leaving you in the clear from being caught. however, what you weren't in the clear from was the little stunt you had pulled during the tense situation. reo suddenly pulled out and flipped you around, pushing you to bend over the box as he yanked your dress to your waist, placing a harsh slap on your ass.

"you some kind of slut? the fuck were you trying to do back there, huh? did you want that poor, old couple to see how well i fuck you? how well you take my fat cock?"

he spanked you again, both the action and his dirty words going straight to your core. reo slammed into you again, setting a more brutal pace than before.

"yeah, you'll get what you want. take my dick like a good girl, cause you're not gonna be walking for days once i'm done with you tonight."

his hands roamed everywhere on you, no longer caring about how much noise you two were making. you had only fueled reo's growing obsession with you, and he wasn't planning on letting you go. he wanted to claim you as his, keep you for himself. his heavy balls slapped against your backside with each thrust as he fucked into you like a madman.

"aah! ohmygod, reo!" you cried out, "m'gonna cum, gonna c-cum so hard!"

"f-fuck- me too, princess. gonna fill you up so much till you're leaking with my cum. take it all, ugh- take it!"

with one last cry, you clenched down and came around his thick cock, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. reo hugged your waist tightly as he twitched in you a couple times before painting your walls in white. you rode out your orgasm with him before he pulled out of you slowly, collapsing onto your back. heavy breathing was the only sound that filled the small closet now.

"think i love you already... yeah, you're all mine, now." he pressed a kiss behind your ear, although it was more gentle now. "just wait till i take you home. you're now my girlfriend."

AN: i think this was my longest write yet KEKW, i love reo sm <3 also my requests are open!

[johns-walker]

change (pt. 2)

john walker/f!reader

one small mission for val changes the course of your life, and your relationship with john

cw THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS, injuries, mentions of trauma, shame rooms, death/murder, and mental health but also FLUFF!! I PROMISE!! | wc 4.7k

so as i promised i have returned! i meant to post this at a reasonable time and not 3:30am but here we are. if you know me on ao3 you know this is supposed to be four parts and the next part is lowkey just smut ngl. but anyway! please enjoy. i love you and i love wyatt russell defenders :)

The aching new bruise on your shoulder and the constant sound of desert bugs in your ears were the only concrete pieces of evidence that you had to substantiate that what you were experiencing was real, and not some messed up dream that you had after getting knocked out cold during a job. 

It was one thing to be assigned to do a job by yourself - in fact, it was something that you did often. It was true that Val would assign you to work with one other person, and that said person was always the same. But a lot of the time, you were working on something relatively simple, by yourself. But to be assigned a job, and run into the person who you often collaborated with, only to find out that you had both been there separately under the expectation that you would take part in a group slaughtering event was something that you weren’t sure you could wrap your head around even now, about two hours after it had happened. 

As far as you were concerned, there was an individual who had phasing abilities who you were sent after. You were informed that another agent was also looking for this individual, but that it was imperative that you were sent separately. You had arrived shortly after Taskmaster had, only to find that John was also there - and that he was sent to kill the other agent who was sent to kill Ghost, who you were sent to kill. Ghost killed Taskmaster, some guy named Bob showed up, got shot, and flew into the sky, and made your stolen Humvee crash off of the side of a cliff, and now here you were. 

There was a bit more to it, of course. But you didn’t want to think about some of the more painful aspects of the entire thing. The prospect of being burned alive by the person who employed you certainly wasn’t a pleasant thing to think about, and then there were the personal things that bothered you about everything. John, who you thought had been making at least some sort of decent progress toward moving past the people and situations that haunted him, had begun and was now perpetuating the lie that he was going to go home from this to a loving wife and child. But you knew that wasn’t the truth, and you had hoped that he had at least made some sort of progress toward moving on from that. 

Granted, you knew as well that he was still having trouble processing it simply because he knew it was his fault - or, you figured that he knew it was his fault at this point. He seemed to blame himself, and you knew that he needed to because it was something that he caused. But, he couldn’t seem to blame himself for long enough to move past it. It felt wrong judging his coping mechanisms, but lying and hoping that you would just go along with it was something that irritated you to your core.

There was more selfish reasons behind you not liking it, too. You hated hearing about it, about the fake life that he was making everyone think that he lived. It made your closeness look strange, it made you look like a worse person than you knew that you already are. You knew he wasn’t married, so when you checked in on him and let him put his hands on your face to look at your bruised cheek and cut up lip, you knew that you weren’t doing anything wrong - hell, you weren’t even doing anything inherently romantic since you hadn’t put a label on anything you two got up to. But, to the others, it looked like you were strangely close with a married man, and it was obvious that you looked at him in a way that would be inappropriate if he was married. 

But John didn’t know about your feelings toward him, as far as you were aware. So how could you possibly blame him for not being considerate about something that you hadn’t even bothered to tell him about? You figured that you couldn’t, so you tried your best to keep yourself from taking it out on him. Especially since you really needed to conserve that energy, considering the fact that stopping was something that you had no ability to do at this point. You all needed to get out of this desert. Val was destined to find you at some point, and you couldn’t stop moving even for a second if you wanted to prevent that. 

“You still good?” 

Your eyes moved from the ground to the man beside you, taking note of the small distance between the two of you and the two women that you were traveling with. 

“I’m fine.” You responded, though you were missing your bed and wished that you were anywhere but here, you were fine. Physically, you were going to make it through this, even if you weren’t going to have the best time trying to do so. “Are you good?” 

There were a few questions in what you were asking him. You were curious about his physical form, obviously, but he was a super soldier and could take a punch – and massive fall – a lot better than most people could. But you knew that he was going through something. Whatever happened to him after he touched Bob’s hand had clearly rattled him, you’d seen the way that his feet were inching towards the edge, and you knew that if he fell, something would kill him. If it wasn’t the fall, it would be the fact that there was no reliable way for anyone to get him out of there. It looked like he wanted to die, and that was enough to deeply concern you. 

“I’ll be fine.” Was his response, and though you weren’t sure if you exactly believed him, you highly doubted that he had any interest in elaborating on his feelings in front of two other people. 

With a sigh, you let your hand reach out toward him. His fingers within your own sent a bit of relief through you, though you hated that a little bit. You hated that it relieved you to touch him, that it made everything seem just a little bit more okay when you had him close. But you also liked that he was someone who you could turn to when you needed it – even though he was also the only person who you could turn to when you needed it. 

That was the thing about the deathtrap, though. Every single one of you were, in some capacity, sort of bad people. You killed people, you did bad things from time to time, and you were all quite miserable and rather lonely. Each and every person you had spoken to for more than a second seemed to have the same rather empty look behind their eyes. Each of you wanted some sort of clean slate, as promised by Valentina when the clean slate was really just killing you all. But none of you got what you were promised, because you were never supposed to even survive. 

You had John, but you had nobody else. When you went home from a job, you went home to a few dead plants and ended up hanging out with him an hour later anyway. You practically lived together at this point, though neither of you were willing to admit to each other that you had gotten that close. You weren’t sure when the physical affection stopped being something that you only showed to each other in the confines of an after-mission ritual, and started being something that you showed to each other on a day-to-day basis. Holding hands wasn’t knew, hugging, holding each other – they were all things that you were used to, at this point. 

Even so, you still had this emptiness in you. You wanted something more, and you weren’t sure that you could ever have it. You would never tell John how you felt about him, not until you had any sort of confirmation or idea that he was ready to move past his divorce. You had yet to receive that confirmation, so telling him was something that remained off the table. Even so, he was the only person you really had who you trusted, the only person who you ever confided in. He was the only person who was really in your life, and you found yourself simply grateful that you had someone to turn to when things got rough. 

“How did you two meet?” Yelena asked, finally allowing you to take note that the two of you had caught up to the others at some point. “You seem close.” 

“Work.” You responded, simply. It was the truth, you met him through work. You wanted to say more, you wanted to elaborate on the fact that you don’t hold hands with married men all the time, but you didn’t want to embarrass him. As far as she and Ava were concerned, he was a married man, and you didn’t want to be the one to end his facade, even if it deeply, deeply annoyed your mind to think about it. “We usually work together.” 

“You assigned jobs with other people?” Yelena asked, her eyebrows furrowing. You wondered how long she had been working for Val, how many jobs she had to do by herself. You often disliked doing jobs alone because it felt isolating, because one of the few people who you trusted and seemed to trust you was John.

“Only him.” 

John nodded in agreement, signifying that he also hadn’t been assigned another work partner. But that was really where the conversation ended, despite your remaining closeness with the man beside you. Your fingers remained intertwined with his, even when you got tired – more so, especially when you got tired. It made you more comfortable to remember that he was there with you, that your close friend was going through the exact same thing that you were.

Though, as you continued your expedition throughout the desert, you couldn’t help but wonder why Val had even thought it would be a good job to put the two of you on the same mission. Did she have no other way to kill you without leaving a trace? She knew that the two of you worked well together, which led you to wonder if she simply had such little faith in him that she believed he would’ve been dead before you even showed up. Or, maybe she had little faith in the rest of the people she assigned to do this, believing that you two working together wouldn’t mean that either of you escaped being burned alive. Just the thought of the fate that you escaped had you shaking your head, but you pushed those thoughts away. It would be a long night if any of you lingered on the events of it in your minds, and it was bad enough that it would be a horrid night regardless. 

At the very least, you were reminded that it got quite cold in the desert late at night halfway through it. It felt like a reprieve from the scorching heat that had been lingering from early on in the night. But as the sun started to rise after hours of walking, you knew that you were going to have to start going faster. Val had eyes everywhere, and while you could disappear into a populated area without detection, the four of you were sticking out like four insanely-sized thumbs in the empty desert with no other people in it for miles. 

At least, you thought there were no other people in it. 

The sound of a car that seemed to be coming right to you had you all ducking for cover, but it became increasingly clear (from the man who emerged from the car and what he was yelling about) that this man was someone who knew Yelena; that he wasn’t a threat even though she seemed horribly embarrassed by his antics. 

By the time that you were actually in the car, everything else begun to feel like a blur. One moment you were listening to what sounded like a both deeply personal and deeply unserious conversation that was happening in the front seat, and the next moment you were being shot at, seemingly being saved by Bucky, and then ultimately also being shot at by Bucky. 

It wasn’t until you were cuffed and sitting beside John that you actually had a moment to process what was happening. A currently sitting Congressman was threatening you to testify, a Congressman who you – if you weren’t mistaken – had met before. It wasn’t until he spoke up about John’s little lie that you finally made eye contact with him. You had met him before, briefly. They weren’t friends, but him and John had kept in contact. Bucky checked in very briefly after he found out that Olivia left, and you… well, you were honestly relieved that the others knew.

A part of that relief was selfish. You were glad that people didn’t think that you were somewhat flirting with your friend who you, theoretically, would know was in a relationship if he still was. But you were also relieved for reasons that benefited John. For a good long while, you’ve been the only real friend that he’s had, just like he’s been the only real friend that you’ve had. Pushing people away was what made his relationship end in the first place, and lying to the people he’s just met because he’s ashamed of his past isn’t ever going to help him recover from it. 

As much as you wanted to unpack that with him, to make sure that he was doing okay even though everyone now knew the truth about him and his former marriage, there was no real time for that. Bob was still out there, and apparently he was being manipulated and used by Val. The Sentry Project, whatever Val wanted out of it, it was clearly the reason for Bob being able to survive being shot at well-over a hundred times and then quite literally fly away, even if he came crashing back down just moments later. 

He was a good person, but he was a deeply wounded person who was now being manipulated by the same person who had manipulated everyone in this room in one way or another. Everyone except for Bucky, who had seemingly been privy to her misdeeds for far longer than the rest of you had. You all knew that you needed to do something, Bob needed help, and for once in your lives, you all needed to do something that mattered for someone else. 

It was unfamiliar. Unfamiliar to all of you. But you knew it was the right thing, for Bob and for whoever Val might use him and her manipulation of him to hurt. 

The journey to Manhattan in the back of the truck felt lighter than the prior journey, because you all knew what your purpose was here. There was no apprehension about doing the right thing and helping Bob, there was no underlying motivation to get as far away from all of the new people you had just met as quickly as possible because that was what you were simply used to doing. And there was no need for you to shy away from how close you sat to John, even though that last part raised a lot of questions in your mind that you didn’t feel like you had enough time to answer. 

Of course, you knew that you had feelings for him, and you knew that these feelings for him had started long before this one particular day when everything seemed to be shaking up in your life. But you also didn’t know how to deal with that before other than just not acting on it. John hadn’t chosen to be forthright about his divorce, but he didn’t shy away from it or talk back when Bucky said something. There was an acceptance on his face, a defeated expression. He seemed not welcoming to the fact that he was divorced, but no longer surprised by it, either. 

Through and through, your promise to yourself had been for him to be the first one to make a move because he was the one that was struggling emotionally and he was the one that needed to decide when the time was right. But you also knew that you acted like a couple a lot of the time. You shared beds, and held hands, and spent almost all of your time with each other even when you weren’t working. But when you were working, it shifted that bond. Because when you were doing dangerous jobs, you needed to remind yourselves that you trusted each other with your lives. 

That reminder, that trust, was something that you didn’t realize you were going to need until you did. 

Rescuing Bob was one thing, knowing that Val could be a master manipulator was another. But you weren’t fully prepared for what you saw. In what little time she had to mold him, to make him into a puppet and feed into the issues that he struggled with in his mind, but fighting him was something entirely different. It felt like they’d all failed when they walked away, utterly defeated. Val had somehow won, and she had been able to take the person they were all there to save with her. She felt wrong about it as she followed the rest of the team down the elevator, because she knew firsthand – like they all did – that Val would disregard him and try to get him killed the moment she decided that she didn’t need him anymore, or the moment she decided that he was some kind of a liability to her political career and the power that she had been able to obtain from it. 

Everything happened so quickly, one moment Yelena was insulting everyone and running off – only to be followed by Alexei. Meanwhile, the rest of you lingered. Nobody really said anything, nobody knew what to say. You hated what she had said to John, but you also knew that she didn’t mean it, because she was hurt. Because for once, you had all tried to do something meaningful and important and she failed, you failed, every single one of you had failed. Because you weren’t superheroes, and only one of you had any real superpower, and what could you even do? 

Hope and pray that one of Bucky’s super-powered friends would come and save the day? It didn’t feel like there was any real option here, and you were almost ready to start walking home in defeat, counting your lucky stars that you had at least evaded being burned alive, a mile deep into the ground just so one woman can cover her tracks. But things were never that simple, and before you could even think of proposing the idea of leaving to anyone, a helicopter came crashing down from the sky. Bob. It was his silhouette, but he was entirely consumed by darkness. His eyes seemed to be glowing, but the rest of him was a black shadow. 

The thoughts looming in the forefront of your mind took the backburner as you ran off to help someone who was about to be hit by the weight of debris, grabbing the young woman who was barely aware of the piece of an engine coming straight for her until she was out of it’s path. Everything seemed utterly chaotic, people running and not knowing where they could go or what they could do. You felt like you were acting on instinct as you joined the others, helping to keep the piece of concrete from falling until it toppled over to the other side. And just as quickly as you all came to realize that you’d stopped a crisis, another one began. 

From up above, Bob – or, rather, The Sentry in this form – was turning the people on the ground into shadow’s by the moment, and the only thing that any of you could do was get people out of his path. At least, it was the only thing that most of you thought to do, most of you except for Yelena. Yelena walked face-first into it. 

As much as you wanted to imagine that she was insane, that she was doing something utterly insane and choosing to die for reasons that you couldn’t quite grasp, you knew that wasn’t the case. You had known from the very beginning that John had seen something when he touched Bob’s hand, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. It seemed to be your only hope that, in some twist of fate, if you walked into the darkness you would be able to do something to stop this, something to bring him out of this form that he was in. 

Stepping out from the small roof that kept you safe, you turned to face John. Your closest friend, the one person who you seemed to care about more than anyone else – the only person who you figured really cared about you, at this point. His hand stretched out to yours, and you took it. Your fingers wrapped around his as you made the decision to do the only thing that you had any hope could fix this. From what he said, this wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience, but if it was the only way, you would just have to endure it. 

The moment you stepped into the shadows, you found your hand empty. No John beside you, nothing except for a familiar sound, a memory. 

Turning your head, your felt your breath hitch in your throat at the sight of the person in front of you. Your best friend. The person who you had met in middle school, and went to college with. The person who was there for you when you went through anything good and anything bad. Until this day. You wanted to reach out, to stop the younger version of you from pulling the gun from her bag, but you couldn’t stop what was happening. 

It was the first time you’d ever killed anyone, the worst day of your life. An assignment. Of course, your close friend had to be someone who was working against the agency you were working for – the agency you would later come to know was headed by Val – and she just happened to be your first real assignment, the first real test to see if you were capable of doing this job. 

Room after room seemingly just became more and more traumatic, but in the end, you found yourself being smacked in the face by a flying blanket. It wasn’t your blanket, though. You were in an attic, but it wasn’t your attic, and you were no longer going through rooms of your past traumas by yourself, reliving every single moment that you had wished you were able to forget. 

There was no real time to focus on that, though. You were all quickly entering another room, and just as quickly being pinned against a wall to stop you from fighting back against the dark version of Bob that seemed to be taking his physical form hostage – his Void. The darkness in his mind that threatened to consume him whole. 

Fighting it almost seemed like the correct, natural, response for a moment. But it became clear to you, as Bob himself became consumed more and more each passing moment by the darkness, that he couldn’t do it this way. Fighting himself, allowing himself to hate his own mind and feed into the darkness, it was what it wanted. One by one, you were able to break free and help him. To remind him that he didn’t have to do this alone, that you were all here to free him from what he was being subjected to. And when it worked, when you found yourselves back in the streets of New York, the darkness that had begun consuming the city was beginning to fade away. 

But there was Val, shameless as ever and seemingly pulling you all into another one of her traps as she walked past the curtain. You were inundated with lights, cameras, and reporters as you crossed the threshold of the white curtain that you had walked through. Your eyebrows knitted together as you listened to her, as you pieced together what was happening. You knew that this mean that Bucky wouldn’t get to testify against her, that in the end she got what she wanted and was now entirely unimpeachable. But, it also meant that you had power. You had power over her, and you didn’t have to worry about her subjecting any of you to missions that you weren’t comfortable with. 

Once you were able to leave the impromptu press conference, you found yourself ushered into a black SUV with John, your eyes darting away from the floor as you felt his hand on your cheek. “You got a pretty bad bruise, you know.” 

You brought your hand up to where he was touching, right below your eye. You honestly weren’t sure when, in the heat of the moment, you had gotten bruised. 

“You’re pretty cut up yourself.” You responded, though your voice was softer than you intended it to be. You really didn’t know what this meant for you. You knew that you liked the feeling of his hand on your cheek, though. And you also knew that you really didn’t want to have any sort of discussion about what it meant to be a New Avenger until after you got to sleep a little bit. 

John was seemingly debating something in his mind for a good couple of minutes before he cleared his throat, a small smile covering his lips. “Would it be too forward of me to kiss you?” 

For a moment, you were certain that you must’ve gotten hit too hard in the head at some point, but this was very much real, and he was very much asking for permission to kiss you. And every apprehension that you ever had be damned – if he was asking, then you were ready for it. “Not too forward at all.” 

With the permission he needed, he leaned forward and captured your lips within his. It was soft, delicate, careful not to hurt the small cut that you had sustained on your bottom lip at some point. But you let your hand press on his face as well, keeping him there and running your thumb over his skin. Regardless of what all of these new developments and new changes meant, you were happy. Happy to feel in control of your own life, happy to be able to kiss the one person who you seemingly could never stop thinking about kissing. 

There were a lot of things that you would need to discuss later, but for now, you were happy to sit comfortably in the backseat of this car, gently almost-making out with your best friend. Though, you would be remiss if you didn’t get one little honest opinion in there.

“John?” 

“Hmm?” He seemed almost dazed as he unwillingly pulled slightly away from you, a smile covering your lips as he tried to chase the kiss. 

“Since you were asking about it earlier, I kinda hate your hat.” 

He seemed stunned for a moment, almost offended even though there was a smile fighting it’s way onto his face. “No…”

“It’s not flattering, people deserve to see your pretty face.” You nodded, brushing your fingers through his hair. “You can still have a hat, just like… a better one.” 

He didn’t stop himself from smiling now, even as he shook his head in faux-disbelief that you would dare say something bad about the helmet that he had been wearing. But you didn’t let him respond as you kissed him again, letting his hand rest on the back of your neck as he held you close. For the first time in a while, you felt genuinely happy – and strangely beyond glad for all of the change and near-death-experiences that you had been forced to live through if this was to be the end result of it all.

[anonymous-dentist]

I get that trRos blowing up the castle was her more or less trying to get one up on Green, ending the prank war by destroying the one thing Green always pranked and stole from (and because she’s depressed and suicidal and stuff)

But I’m not sure if that’ll stop trPangi? Because yesterday he moved on pretty quickly from pranking Yellow back by messing with the castle. He almost immediately decided that he had to fuck with Ros personally: “What can we do that would hurt Ros the most?” “What if I stick her and drop her into the Void?” “I’m going to kill Ros for this.”

“Whoever did this is dead to me.”

Like, yeah, it’s a severe escalation on his part, but this is also how it works back on Lifesteal. Pranks are cool and all, but the retaliation is always 10x worse and much more personal in nature.

So of course he was going to take a prank against his team personally, even if he thought it was funny at first. But what really pissed Pangi off wasn’t the prank, and it wasn’t even necessarily the extremely torturous cleanup. It was Ros and Aimsey’s reactions towards him being upset. That’s what made the water prank personal, he felt personally betrayed by the fact that the two people he considers his best friends weren’t even trying to see his perspective on the matter

Like, from Pangi’s pov, he expressed extreme annoyance and genuine agony over having to clean the water up, and Ros immediately said “Oh, I’m doing it again btw” so she can get back at Pangi’s teammate. And then Aimsey, as usual, took Ros’ side and tried to downplay his emotions- his very obvious upset- by attempting to defuse the situation.

And then Aimsey said it, they said “But we just got you back…”, which, to Pangi, probably shows that neither of them really know him. They think they do, but they only really got to know the softer side of him. Every time he would do something Lifesteal-y, like killing Pili 2 at the ball, Ros and Aimsey would act like he was out of character. Admittedly, Aimsey seems much more chill with his violent and emotional side, but Ros doesn’t want to look at him like she did in January when he was making her life a living hell. That’s understandable, but it also means that, to Pangi, she isn’t willing to accept all of him; she only wants the good parts, not the messy ones

And so Pangi walked into the Yellow Castle yesterday with a pvp kit prepared and his pvp texture pack on. He had moved past the idea of pranking Yellow back, not because he dislikes pranks, but because, to him, it was personal. Lukey and Bad could prank back all they wanted, but Pangi? Nah, he’s gonna do his own thing

[vodika-vibes]

🐚 if I may drop something in your requests for mermay🐚

I was thinking, like, Merman Wrecker x visually impaired fem reader, who’s recently been turned into a mermaid by her mate, but upon realizing the extent of her blindness, deciding that it makes her more of a burden than she’s worth he just, left her in the middle of the sea, and she’s hurt and lost and alone, and he Wrecker finds her.

Idk I just feel like you’d feel really safe with him holding you as he swims because he’s so strong. Plus apart from the obvious angst it would still be really sweet

Love Is A Choice

Summary: After your mate abandons you, after turning you into a mermaid and leaving you leagues from your new home, you think you’re SOL. Luckily, Wrecker finds you.

Pairing: Pre-TBB Wrecker x F!Reader

Word Count: 1741

Warnings: Reader is not in a very good situation at the beginning of the story.

A/N: So, there's not a whole lot of romance here, but I hope you like it anyway. I had too many ideas, lol

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You were a child when you lost your eyesight, only 12 years old. Or, maybe you should say, already 12 years old.

It’s not like you were born blind.

One morning you woke up in pain, and your parents rushed you to the ER, where a doctor told you, and them, in cold and unfeeling medical jargon, that sometimes the human immune system stops recognizing your eyes and that you were going blind.

It was, quite possibly, the worst thing that ever happened to you and your family.

Your parents divorced, and your dad refused to have anything to do with you—something the judge was not happy about when she found out—though he still visited your siblings. You lost all of your friends, not all at once, but slowly. Over the period of six months they stopped inviting you to things, and then stopped talking to you, and you woke up one morning and realized that you no longer had any friends.

Sure, you eventually recovered.

Mom met a new guy who adopted you after your father surrendered his parental rights to you specifically. With his help, mom enrolled you in a private school for children like you, a school for the blind and deaf. And while there you made new friends. Better friends. Friends who became like siblings to you.

But the memory of how people abandoned you when you first got sick remains. To this day, the memory and the hurt remain.

Those memories made you a careful woman.

You never entered a relationship without making sure that the person you were dating knew just how blind you are and how difficult life can be for you.

Which is why you feel so stupid right now.

Your friends and your parents warned you. They all said the same thing to you when you introduced him to them. “There’s something not right with him.” They said, “He’s going to hurt you, I can tell.”

You wish you listened to them.

Because if you had, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

What is this situation? Oh, well you’re a blind mermaid. A newly minted mermaid, at that. And your mate, your husband, your partner, the merman you chose as your life partner, has abandoned you.

You have no idea where you are.

The water is a little warmer than you’re used to, which suggests that you’re farther from home than you originally thought.

But without being able to see or without having a guide, you have no way to return home. If you can even call that small village home anymore.

He made it very clear that he wasn’t interested in you anymore.

How cruel.

It’s not like he didn’t know you were blind, after all.

Carefully you slide your hand over the top of the flat-ish rock you’ve been sitting on, and as soon as you’re sure that you’re not in danger of falling off, you lay back, press your arms over your eyes, and take a deep breath.

Slowly, you breathe through the anxiety threatening to strangle you, and you relax on the rock.

Your situation is bad, but you aren’t completely helpless. It’s not like anyone can sneak up on you in water, swimming is surprisingly noisy after all. In fact, the biggest threat to you is running out of food.

In truth, you’re not sure how long you were laying there when you hear the sound of a merperson approaching. The way a merperson swims sounds differently than any other sea creature, due to the shape of their fins.

And the person approaching you sounds big.

Well, bigger than your ex, at least.

The sound of swimming stops, and you know the merperson saw you. “’lo there,” It’s a man, “What are you doing in the kelp forest?”

“Ah, well—” You pause, trying to think of a way to ask for help without being too honest, and then you give up, “I’m afraid I was abandoned here.”

“By who?” You hear him swim closer, and then there’s the sensation of him stopping close to you. Not so close as to be in your space, but close enough that you know he is there.

“My mate.” You shrug, as if you don’t care. “He wooed me, talked me into becoming a mermaid and then abandoned me because I’m too much work. Or something.”

“How long ago did you become a mermaid?” He asks.

“Oh, it’s been about a month, I think.” You pause, “I’m blind, you see—”

He’s silent for a moment, and then you feel him sit on the rock next to you, “Did you magically become blind when you transformed?”

“What? No!” You pause, “Wait, is that possible?”

“Nope. The only change is human biology turning into mer biology. My brother could explain it better than me, though.” He shifts slightly, “My point, though, is that he would have known that you were blind before you went through the transformation, right?”

“He knew, yeah.”

He clicks his tongue, “So he’s a fucker, you’re better off without him.”

“I mean, my parents and friends will likely agree. And I’ll get there eventually.” You make a face, “But I’m still blind, and I’m still lost, and I’m pretty sure going back to the house I’ve been living in for the last month is a bad idea.”

“Oh, yeah. If he’s okay with abandoning you here, he’d have no issues killing you. Probably.”

“...cheerful.”

“I mean, I don’t know him, obviously. But since he abandoned his mate after a month, I’m inclined to blame him for everything. Up to and including the Atlantean war.”

“Didn’t that end 50 years ago?”

“Yeah, and?”

A small laugh falls from you, “I’m sure I’ll get to a point where I can agree with that too.”

He bumps his shoulder against yours, “You alright?”

“I feel...stupid. I should have known he was too good to be true.”

“He conned you. That’s on him, not you.”

“Kinda feels like it’s on me. I feel like I should have known.”

“People like him, they know how to pick their targets. He probably didn’t see you so much as your disability, and he saw an easy target.”

“Ugh, but what’s the point?” You hold your hands to the side, “What does he get from tricking me into becoming a mermaid?”

“Well, if I had to guess, I’d say his plan was to leave you here for a day or two, and then return and act all apologetic to convince you to stay with him, and then turn you into some kind of slave.”

“I beg your fucking pardon?”

“Yeah, it’s a con that’s happening more and more often in the small villages.”

Your hands curl into fists, “Oh. Okay. Okay. Now I’m angry.”

His large hand claps your shoulder, “That’s a step up from sad, don’t you think?” He squeezes your shoulder, “Now, as for what happens to you. How do you feel about relocating to Atlantis?”

“Um…”

“There’s a shelter for merpeople like you, people who were conned into becoming merfolk. Not to mention, the Royal Prosecutor is going to want details from you so she can throw the book at your former mate.”

You hesitate for a moment, “I’m scared,” You finally admit.

Strong arms wrap around you and your crushed against a, surprisingly, solid chest. “Don’t be. It’s easy to be afraid when you’re alone, but you’re not alone. You’re going to be surrounded by people who will understand the position your in, and the Royal Family already vowed to help people in your situation.”

Hesitantly you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s warm and, for the first time since becoming a mermaid, you feel safe. That must be his super-power.

“Besides, when you get to Atlantis, you’ll already have at least one friend!”

“I will?”

“Yeah, me!”

“I don’t even know your name…”

“I’m Wrecker, a member of the Atlantis Royal Guard.”

You huff out a breath and drop your forehead to his chest, “Nice to meet you.” You mumble, before you introduce yourself as well.

“Likewise.” His arms tighten around you, “So, what do you think? Wanna come to Atlantis?”

“Mm...can I still visit my parents?”

“Course! I’ll escort you personally.”

You hum thoughtfully, and then slowly nod. “It sounds like it’s probably a good idea, then.”

“That’s great news!” Wrecker sounds delighted, like a child on Christmas morning, “Now, how do you normally get guided around?”

“...my ex used to take my hand and drag me—” You admit.

“Wow, what a dick. So, I’m not doing that,” Wrecker pauses, “Alright, I have two options for you. A fast and a slow option.”

“What’s the fast option?”

“You wrap your arms around my neck and I carry you to Atlantis. My tail is longer and my fins are bigger than yours, so we’ll get back in about half an hour.”

“And the slow option?”

“You hook your arm with mine and we take our time to get to Atlantis. This will take about an hour and a half. Simply because you’re unfamiliar with the area.”

You purse your lips, “I suppose the fast option is the best one.”

“I think so, too. I can give you a proper tour later.” He finally releases you and takes your hands in his. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like he’s manhandling you, so much as guiding you to where you need to go.

He helps you wrap your arms around his neck and makes sure you’re secure, and then he takes off, causing you to yelp and bury your face in the back of his neck.

“Everything good?”

“It feels a little weird, but I’m okay.”

“Great! While I swim, allow me to tell you about some of the services you’re going to be getting due to your circumstances. Starting with the service Octopus you’re going to be gifted—”

As Wrecker rambles on about Atlantis and how you’re going to be much better off there than anywhere else, you can’t help but smile. After you were abandoned, you had been ready to give up hope. You likely would have accepted your ex back simply because you had no other choice.

You’re glad to be wrong, in this scenario.

You hope that Wrecker keeps his promise about being a friend. You could use a good friend. And if he turns into something more? Well, that’s a worry for later.

@heidnspeak

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[apiswitchcraft]

psephoi: greek divination tiles

a while ago i made this post about astragalomancy, a form of divination using four-sided knucklebones. in that i mentioned another post that my friend fritz had made about psephoi. since then, fritz has deleted his tumblr blog so i decided to repost these tiles he made (with his permission) and their interpretations!

BACKGROUND:

psephoi is a method of using 24 tiles each inscribed with a greek letter (much like norse runes and celtic ogham) and chosen randomly. it wasn't just used for divination, of course, as with astragaloi (which were used as dice), but in this case we will only be considering the divinatory method.

THE TILES:

psephoi tiles can be a number of things: pieces of ceramic, wood, or pieces of paper. you can put them in a cup or bag or whatever and draw blindly, or you can swirl them around in the vessel until one/some fall out.

if you don't feel like making your own or want something quick and easy, check out these tiles fritz drew up!

you could cut them out and just use them as is, or paste them onto pieces of wood/stone/whatever you like!

(btw fritz says y'all can feel free to screenshot and print these out to use)

whether or not you make your own tiles, below is a list of the interpretations for your divinatory usage!

INTERPRETATIONS:

Alpha: “The God [Apollo] says you will do everything successfully.” Your entire project will turn out well and you will meet all your goals. You will have good luck in all your activities, or prosperous business transactions and negotiations.

Beta: “With the help of Tychê, you will have an assistant, the Pythian [Apollo].” You are at a critical point, but if you are fortunate, Apollo the Far-shooter will help you if you call on Him. Even with luck, the God will only assist; ultimate responsibility is yours. “Pythian” refers to Apollo as the God at Delphi (which was in Pytho), one of the most important oracular sites. Therefore the help to be expected might be of a prophetic nature.

Gamma: “Gaia will give you the ripe fruit of your labors.” You will have a successful harvest, or you will reap all your profits from the Earth. The Mother of All will bring your labors to a fruitful conclusion. Gaia will give you your just deserts.

Delta: “In customs inopportune strength is weak.” Ill-timed force will be ineffective; act with precision; timing is everything. Knowing where and when to strike is more important than strength; misapplied ability is disability. Blind conformity to customs is spineless; overly strict adherence to rules is self-defeating. Unreasonable or undue force will defeat itself; a tyrant must fall.

Epsilon: “You desire to see the offspring of righteous marriages.” This is a statement of fact, not a command or prediction. The obvious meaning is that the querant wants children or grandchildren from suitable marriages. However, it can also mean he or she is in love with seeing this, that is, obsessed by the idea. The “rightness” of the marriage admits many interpretations; it could be a terrible marriage if that was fitting and righteous (i.e. deserved). The oracle may also refer to seeds, other than children, sown by the marriage (e.g. family alliances, marrying into wealth or influence). Finally, marriage may be taken metaphorically to refer to any alliance or union.

Zeta: “Flee the very great storm, lest you be disabled in some way.” Don’t make a sea-voyage in bad weather. It is futile to fight the force of the ocean; likewise, bucking the inevitable will weaken you and hinder your progress. Avoid raging storms of any kind; save your energy for when it can be effective. Sometimes flight is wiser than fight.

Eta: “Bright Helios, who watches everything, watches you.” The life-giving Sun will care for you. Helios is an enforcer of oaths and promises, and He knows the deceit in your heart.

Theta: “You have the helping Gods of this path.” The “way” may be a concrete road, a plan of action, a spiritual path, a way of life, etc. In any case, the Gods who oversee this way will help and defend you, so you may go forward with confidence; you are under divine care because you are following your destiny.

Iota: “There is sweat; it excels more than everything.” There will always be hard work; work is never done. Hard work is the surest means of success. When you have lost all other possessions, you still have your labor as an asset. The oracle recommends elbow-grease.

Kappa: “To fight with the waves is difficult; endure, friend.” In time, the force of ocean waves can grind down anything; they can be a metaphor for repetitive, unstoppable processes. It is difficult, dangerous, and painful to try to resist them; the sensible thing to do is to wait until they abate, or if that is impossible, then to endure the inevitable with courage.

Lambda: “The one passing on the left bodes well for everything.” Since the left is traditionally the sinister side, the oracle may mean that an apparently sinister thing or event may be a blessing in disguise. The left is also associated with the unconscious, lunar mind, and so unconscious processes or intuition may signal a favorable outcome. A promising sign comes from an unpromising quarter.

Mu: “It is necessary to labor, but the change will be admirable.” Through toil and distress a change will be made for the better. Hard work will result in a good return.

Nu: “The strife-bearing gift fulfils the oracle.” Something will be given (to you, by you, or from one to another) that brings strife with it; this will discharge the force of the oracle. The import seems to be that this gift will be the answer to the question asked of the oracle. So, for example, if the querant asked when something will happen, the gift is the sign that it’s immanent.

Xi: “There is no fruit to take from a withered shoot.” There is no good to be gained from an angry young man or woman. The frayed end of a good line. Harshness and stinginess will achieve nothing. You can’t get blood from a turnip; you can’t get water from a stone. Don’t polish a turd.

Omicron: “There are no crops to be reaped that were not sown.” What we spread about, comes back to us. What goes around comes around. You must plan ahead in order to achieve anything.

Pi: “Completing many contests, you will seize the crown.” If you persist in your struggles, after many trials you will succeed. Perseverance through adversity.

Rho: “You will go on more easily if you wait a short time.” If you will hold your ground for only a short time, you will be able to proceed (more easily or with greater cooperation). You will go faster by waiting than by going now; on the other hand, delaying too long may provoke reckless action. By standing fast you live recklessly. By remaining where you are, you live life thoughtlessly.

Sigma: “Phoibos [Apollo] speaks plainly, ‘Stay, friend.’” Neither advance nor retreat; wait or hold your ground, as appropriate; the best action is inaction. “Phoibos” refers to Apollo as Bright and Pure, which also characterizes His advice in this oracle.

Tau: “You will have a parting from the companions now around you.” This may be an unwelcome parting from friends or a welcome release from enemies; in either case they are now around you. This may also mean a growing apart or forced separation of a person from his or her family, peers or fellow travelers on the path.

Upsilon: “The affair holds a noble undertaking.” There is some issue to be resolved, or some deed is under consideration; it involves high-mindedness, either in commitment, deed, or professional pursuit. The oracle may tell us that the affair is admirable due to this noble element, or that the situation may guide us to seek the appropriate noble undertaking or profession. The hero’s quest. On the other hand, the oracle may mean that the situation hinders this fine undertaking. Thus you should try to understand the situation: does it demand an excellent undertaking or impede it.

Phi: “Having done something carelessly, you will thereafter blame the Gods.” Take responsibility for your actions (or inactions); don't blame the Gods (or the universe, or fate, or society, or nature) for your own failings. The ancient Greeks said, “Hermes will help you get your wagon unstuck, but only if you push on it.”

Khi: “Succeeding, friend, you will fulfill a golden oracle.” “Golden” may be a metaphor for rich, noble, excellent, etc. This admirable oracle will be fulfilled by you attaining your ends, or a mere chance meeting could constitute the golden event.

Psi: “You have this righteous judgment {Psêphos} from the Gods.” Literally, a psêphos is a stone used for divination, voting, counting, and similar purposes, so this oracle refers to collective judgment rather than individual judgment. This implies that the majority of the Gods concur in this judgment, and that this judgment is appropriate, fair, and righteous, though there is no implication that the result is that desired by the querant.

Omega: “You will have a difficult harvest season, not a useful one.” Concretely, there will be a poor harvest, or autumn will be difficult; the harvest will be too early, before the fruit is ripe. More abstractly, too early grasping of the fruits of your labor (whether voluntary or necessary) will yield a poor return; the rewards will not be suitable for their purpose. Your youth will be rough; you will have to grow up before your time.

SOURCES:

patheos.com

for the interpretations

[suzukiblu]

Iirc you've said before you don't mind being asked about stuff like this, would you be willing to tell us whether “the one where omegaverse fucks up Red Hood’s life” going to end up happy? It is just precisely the kind of flavor of upsetting that I love when it ends well and is a little much for me if it doesn't

You are correct, I don't mind! Kinda think it's fair of people to ask me that kind of thing since for obvious reasons I can't really tag WIPs on here as effectively as I can tag a full fic on Tumblr and I'd rather people go into stories that they might be a little wary of with all the information they would like to have available. Forewarned, forearmed, all that kind of thing.

( god I REALLY gotta finish that one content warnings doc for all my WIPs one of these days, note to self, get back to that when you get a chance. )

Anyway, spoilers for "the one where omegaverse fucks up red hood's life" behind the cut here, obviously, for anyone who does not want nonspecific but vibes-related spoilers for that fic:

In the outline as it stands and, like, therefore my intended plans, I would go with the fic ending on "optimistic" more than "happy", I'd say? Because Jason is not really in a position for getting to what I would consider a full "happy" place and Dick and Bruce also have, like, a whole-ass League to take this shit out on before THEY can get to that place either, and also there is def still some p a i n yet to come both in the narrative and in any implied aftermath to the story. But also I have zero intentions of ending on any "and then Bruce hit a fucking at-max-nineteen year-old kid who is in fact HIS KID in the neck with a batarang so the JOKER would live" kind of note either, CANON.

So like yeah, tl;dr: more familial/pack-dynamics pain that I intend to hurt y'all with lies ahead but on an out-of-ten "ends well" scale for the full fic, I'd say . . . mmm, seven point five?

( well, maybe eight point five. depends on how good the Dick is, full pun intended. 💙 )

[catgirl-for-hire]

Girlfriend Ianthe Headcanons

There seemed to be a need for this and it was in my head so here ya go. Toxic girlfriend Ianthe, just beware

--------------------------------------------------------------------

 I’m not going to pretend any of this will be nice, so just be prepared

(but we don’t love Ianthe bc she’s nice, we love her bc she’s awful. So have fun you fucking freaks <3 )

Obviously I can’t imagine Ianthe ever having any sort of remotely healthy romantic relationship, for a myriad of reasons, but primarily because you will always be second to Coronabeth

No seriously, every tiny mistake you make would be compared to Corona. You trip, Ianthe snaps that Corona had better balance than that when she was a toddler. You cook something mediocre, Ianthe insists Corona’s spit tastes better than this. Even if you try and get dressed up nice for her, Ianthe only muses on and on about how Corona’s hair is shinier, figure fuller, style more tasteful. 

She’d never get over this habit even if you begged

But she doesn’t drag on and on about Corona all the time. No, Ianthe always has plenty of breath left to remind you how lucky you are to have her. 

Lover of strange pet names, as we know. Like “Harry” is such a downgrade from “Harrowhark” it's obvious that Ianthe just spits out whatever she thinks of as a nickname. Gonad, anyone?

There's standard ones like “babygirl” and “pet” which are diminutive but not outright bizarre. But if there’s any way to abbreviate your name she will, no matter how odd it sounds. Or like with Gideon, she will replace your name with any other word that starts with the same letter. Bonus points if it can double as a degradation for when she’s pissed. 

Loves sharing a bed. It’s one of the softer things about her, and you really have to squint to see it, but she takes great pleasure in having someone sleep next to her. It’s probably a subconscious need and loneliness being filled, but she’ll insist it’s because it keeps her from sinking into the center of the mattress and making a permanent dent. 

Not much of a cuddler. She’d absolutely have a quiet obsession with you clinging to her, though. 

This kinda goes for the whole relationship, actually. Like she’s not one to offer up much in the way of affection but if, for any reason, you stopped prompting it, she’d get all weird. Probably would very aggressively pester you asking what’s wrong, and if you do tell her, she just wouldn’t say anything and walk off again. 

Assuming she actually does care, though, she would fix problems for you without saying a word about it. And if you notice and bring it up, she’d tell you that the stress was giving you wrinkles and she can’t walk around with a wrinkly partner so she just cut it off at its source. This is in fact true to her, even if she also did it because she cares. Two things can be true at once. 

She’s just an attention whore at her core <3

Ianthe is actually very insistent about maintaining your appearance. She’s very materialistic, so if she feels like your wardrobe has gotten boring or your skin is dull, she’ll go out and buy you new things or ship you off for a spa day. She’s never nice about it, it’s always as if it's some moral failing on your par. But it’s almost worth it to have her fawn over you and dress you up. 

When she’s pleased with you, though, she can be a real delight. Attentive, touchy, she knows exactly how to push your buttons and get you comfortable quickly. It’s a skill she reserves for when she feels it’s truly merited. Every affection in her life always had to be earned despite her being born into apparent privilege and absurd wealth. So why would she be any different with you?

[yustardino]

BELIEVE IN THE SIGN OF ZETA

Wow what an episode and alot to ramble, so yes this will be disjointed. First off, Macchu is privelaged and alot of people have mentioned that. What I dont think people have mentioned is how clan battle and the idea of Shuji loving her has got her to isolate away from her parents and the good life she had and because she's isolating herself, she gonna be alot more vulnerable to manipulation from other adults. She's not gonna have this good life for any longer, with all thats happened this episode, Macchu is gonna learn the horrors of war soon herself and be scarred for life. Same goes for Nyaan, whose in an even worse position than Macchu due to her being a trench kid living in a tiny apartment with no parents or any adult who gives a shit about her. Of course she maybe manipulated if it means survival or even some affection of love, something she craves which is why I believe she loves the idea of Shuji. She wants love she desperately craves. Chailla and Annqi's negotiations, we are seeing the seeds of war be planted as they discuss the fact the construction is to prepare for war. Chailla and Annqi also seem to know eachother somewhat considering their reactions and mannerism when negotiating for the GQux. also BASK OM GTFO... if you're here, please dont tell me that purple haired shithead is coming too cus the fear of god is put in me considering the writers also worked on a show with a purple haired shithead who did awful manipulative things to kids also. Aight back on track. Gates from Zeta is also here, a character I remember giving zero fucks about cus the Rosamia arc of Zeta is lets be honest, trash and really brings down Zeta's last ten episodes but perhaps Gates can be a much better character here cus he's not living in the shadow of repeated plot points. We also got a new cyber newtype, hello Deux.... we already have a grave prepared for you but you're cute and gonna see alot of fanart I suspect. But from what we can gather, Cybernewtypes are being developed just like in main UC but likely with lower budgets and lower tech available since Zeon won the war and the Federation are renmants atp. and the Murusame lab is where they're being made, Four likely also exists then. Perhaps evidence we may get Kamille and Fa later in the story. (Copium cus my faves are Kamille... if it wasnt obvious) It also seems Zeon hasnt been willing to fix the destruction the war they caused considering the city Gates and Bask were revealed to us in are in ruins. I haven't anything to say about Shuji this episode except he seems art is likely the one thing that is an outlet for the true shuji to use. I dont think he's a cyber newtype though, way too mentally stable by the standards of Cybernewtypes. Then we have good ole Useless Xavier, the babygirl of the year for real. Can we keep him alive just as a joke atp but Xavier is now getting distrustful of Chailla and for good reason considering how in the dark he and the crew are kept about everything. Then we have Chailla saving him with a jetback and shotgun and you gotta wonder how Chailla knew where Xavier was and to come with equipment to save him at just the right time... perhaps this was a set up to keep Xavier dependent on him. (Who knows, its just very coincidental unless he has a tracker on that poor boy) Next episode, we're finally get into more usual Universal Century battles with alot at risk now with Shuji, Nyaan and Machu in danger and the Psycho Gundam getting piloted meaning the Izuma Colony is gonna have major casualties. This is the turning point, we're gonna see the war spark next episode and my theory is, we're gonna see the GQux go fucking berserk like EVA Unit 01 would. (and I do wonder if I can try ediitng The Beast into that fight next week if I'm correct) Sorry this was majorly disjointed.

[writingrose787]

A Warlord's Guide to Parenting

Summary: Megatron discovers that Sari is his daughter. Offended by that fact that an offspring of his is allied with the Autobots, he takes it upon himself to right this wrong. Kidnapping Sari and trying to turn win her over.

Ao3 link

Chapter 1:

Megatron is sat on his throne staring at his data pad. There’s no denying what’s on the screen. The small organic pet of the Autobots is no mere organic. She’s techno-organic. Half-cybertronian, half-human.

But her cybertronian half is not just half of any cybertronian. She’s half of him. Her CNA profile matches Megatron’s almost exactly.

“Is this correct?” he asks Shockwave, who is on one of his monitors.

“Yes, my lord. It appears that the young techno-organic is indeed your offspring,” Shockwave says in a disaffected tone.

He had asked Shockwave to investigate Sari. There was something about her that set Megatron off-balance. A small part of his spark telling him that she was familiar. That he needed to protect her from all harm. Including the other Decepticons.

His initial belief was that this was some sort of organic defense mechanism. Some part of human evolution to prevent any harm from coming to their young. Yet he could not ignore the nagging that there was more to it than he initially suspected.

“Do you have any idea how this could have happened?” Megatron asks. Primus knows he doesn’t. By all accounts something like this should be scientifically impossible.

“I do have one theory, my lord.”

“Well, what is it?”

“As I’m sure you remember, several stellar cycles ago you had me install a failsafe in case you were too injured to be fully repaired.”

Megatron vaguely remembers asking Shockwave for something like that. It had been so long that the details had become vague. “If you would indulge me, remind me of what exactly that failsafe was.”

“Of course. If you were too injured, a protoform would emerge that was already pre-programmed with your CNA. All you would need to do was make contact and you would be instantly repaired.” Shockwave looks bored as he’s saying this. As if he believes this entire reminder is unnecessary. Greatly over-estimating Megatron’s memory.

Megatron rests his head on his fist. “And how exactly would that lead to the creation of the techno-organic?”

“The protoform would have been receptive to any contact. If the protoform were to be touched by a human, then it is entirely likely that the protoform would have taken that human’s DNA and combined it with your CNA.”

Megatron thought about this for a second. Isaac Sumdac had been carelessly tinkering with his body for the last fifty stellar cycles. He wouldn’t be all to surprised to find out that he had some something to cause the protoform to emerge. And of course, he would not have been able to resist touching it.

Had Sari not been formed, would Isaac have experimented on the protoform? He doesn’t know, but something about that doesn’t sit right with his spark.

“Thank you, Shockwave. That will be all.” He waves off Shockwave.

“Of course, my liege.”

The screen turns off leaving Megatron alone with his thoughts.

In hindsight, this should have been obvious. During his brief, yet terrible, time with Issac Sumdac, he could tell that Sumdac was not a popular man. Completely anti-social. The closest thing he had to a friend was his own daughter. It should have been completely doubtful that anyone would be willing to make a child with him.

From what he has seen, Isaac Sumdac is completely incapable of taking care of a child. He is completely inattentive to her. Never spending any time with her or doing anything in the way of caring for her. Treating her as if she were an afterthought.

How Sari has made it as far as she has with a father like him is a total mystery.

To make matters worse, it appears the Autobots are filling a much needed parental role in her life. She spends almost all her time with them. They’re likely filling her head with their “ideals”. Warping her way of thinking. Turning her against him.

No offspring of his should ever work with the Autobots. If this got out, he’d become the laughing stock of the universe. All the fear and respect that he worked so hard to achieve would be undermined by one child.

Something must be done.

To keep his offspring from being an Autobot, he must be the one to raise her. He will make sure that she will be well versed in combat, knowledgeable in strategy, and feared by all those who know her name.

Most importantly, she will have a total hatred of the Autobots.

In time, she could end up being the perfect heir to the Decepticon throne.

There are still some preparations that must done. The base will need some modifications to accommodate Sari, if she is to live here. She’ll need her own room, for one. And he’ll have to acquire food for her organic half and clothes. Maybe she’ll have a throne next to Megatron’s.

Once preparation is done, then Megatron will acquire what is rightfully his.

[jonathanspenguinboxers]

Valentine raising little Sebastian and Jace headcanons!

You guys are too sweet to me with all of these good asks

I think Valentine is an extremely conventionally-revolved man and everything in his head must be a certain way and fit a certain mould. Therefore, he wants the typical Father-Son dynamic with Jace, so he would be very hands on, teaching skills, going outside, involving them in everything.

I also think he brought Sebastian to all of his meetings or war councils or whatever that psycho did. Just dragged him along, sat him in a chair, and then picked his brain at the end for what he learned, trying to probe a good business man/male manipulator out of him.

I think besides the obvious horrifying and terrible things he did to them, he could also be very contradictorily fatherly, and with Jace's obsession with classics, they would have a bookclub sort of thing where he would read something with Jace and then pick his brain/ hold a conversation (steering him in the way he wants, obviously)

I don't think Valentine and Sebastian got along because Sebastian was too obeying and Valentine doesn't like that. In Becoming Sebastian Verlac Sebastian mentions that he did everything Valentine asked and excelled, and I'll have to do a whole other post on Sebastian psyche because lord do I have thoughts, but Sebastian doesn't struck me as disobedient, and if he was, he was obeying a higher order to get Valentine's attention back, because Valentine ensured he'd be the most important person in his life (Only I can love a monster) So I think that's something that they'd conflict over.

Valentine was the most doting after he abused Sebastian. It's a very conflicting push and pull and I know Cassie said that the demon blood would eventually burn out all humanity, but I do think he still has it for most if not all of TMI. He still craves love, attention, affection, connection. And getting that after the fact when hes most hurt is whats going to bind him to that cycle. Theres no time to hate Valentine for it, because the switch is already flipped and he can be convinced it was for his greater good because clearly Valentine loves him. Sorry to go dark omg 😭

Nicer ones to make up for that: He takes Sebastian to look over Alicante in the mornings and tells him stories, he read all of the shakespeare plays to Jace and thats why he has them so memorized, when Valentine is chastising them he speaks in Romanian thats why they both know it, Sebastian is a very needy kid and is one of those to constantly show Valentine to look at him or look what he can do and Valentine doesn't gaf. Commence the Romanian yelling. He also gives them haircuts, and its really bad for the first few years.

[70yearsofwinter]

ㅤThere would come times when Bucky needed Steve to move slowly or go for small things, but this wasn't one of those times. He was drunk enough that any attempts at hiding behind his usual stoic restraint just weren't an option and Steve meeting that energy once Bucky went for it was the real relief right then. Steve's grip was enough to bruise, not that it would last long on Bucky, and he savored that. He also appreciated that even once the desperation had quelled just a little, Steve came back in, and Bucky loosened his own arm around the man but didn't let go.

ㅤThe fact that Natasha seemed at all capable of not realizing that this was her moment as well, that she was just as much of a part of this as either of them despite the fact that Bucky had told her that he thought Steve was attracted to her, seemed almost like she just didn't want to think about it. He could relate, because he'd been utterly stupid in much the same ways - denying himself the possibilities of having either of them (because he'd absolutely hidden the fact that he remembered his history with Natasha) because he genuinely didn't believe that either of them loved him like that. If they had once upon a time, surely they didn't still love him now that he was a shadow of who he'd once been when Steve knew him or even when Natalia had. It was easier and hurt less to just accept what he couldn't have than to try and find out the hard way that he wasn't wanted.

ㅤNatalia had proven him wrong first, and a little violently with her showing up to kiss him, slap him and then yell at him until they could talk about it like slightly more normal people. The fact that Steve was the guy who jumped out of planes without parachutes and somehow managed to take the exact opposite approach with him in being too gentle was somehow fitting, but Steve really surprised them both with his approach to Nat. Bucky knew they had history, so that wasn't at all a surprise, but he might have expected more of the same kind of approach as Steve had initially taken with him, perhaps even more hesitant. Instead, he went right in for that kiss, and Bucky's eyebrows quirked up in amusement at the way Natasha went still. Even drunk, he didn't think he'd seen her do that since the 50's.

ㅤThe humor was fleeting because watching them was something else entirely, though not in a way that he really would have expected. As a general rule, Bucky didn't have overly high opinions of himself outside of obvious skills he possessed, and that was more fact at that point than opinion. He'd been a wreck in Europe after Steve had tore through a base to get to him, and seeing him with Peggy Carter had been difficult. He'd been jealous, both of Steve taking her attention entirely and suddenly being everything that he'd once been (only better) and Peggy for having Steve's full attention the way she did. He'd felt invisible and inferior, and due to absolutely nothing that anyone in that room had done, violated in a way he didn't have words to explain, like his skin was crawling and nothing he could do would fix it. He'd gotten used to some of it but only felt worse in other ways thanks to the foundational work for the serum they'd started him on. He wasn't as fast or strong as Steve and didn't heal as fast, but he was a little better at all of those things and a little more durable, and he probably ate the least in the whole group without realizing that his metabolism required more calories suddenly. Eating less made getting drunk easier, but even that felt like more of a fight for him than it should have been.

ㅤDespite the extended time between then and the current moment, it was the best example of both drinking heavily and seeing someone he cared about (or in this case two someones) in a romantic situation excluding him, and he expected something of that to rise up sick and prickling inside of him. It didn't. Seeing the two loves of his life kissing right there in front of him was actually one of the hottest things he'd ever seen, and for a man who often struggled with the concept of what he wanted at any given time, he wanted both of them. He wanted to savor the view, sear that into his memory forever where they both belonged like a lantern in a window to guide him home. When Nat looked over, he couldn't have known what his expression was doing because his brain was pinging all over the place, but the want had to show through. She'd know better than anyone how he fought with himself unintentionally over needing and wanting affection versus knowing how to accept it and initiate it, but he was beyond needing and gone right on to starved then. He just hadn't known.

《 @xlianovna, @wavellites 》

Look, he was starting small because he didn't want to make a big move and scare Bucky away, but he really shouldn't have worried about that. The response was immediate and emphatic, and Steve responded in kind, holding Bucky in a grip that could probably crush a normal person. Their kiss was all hunger, teeth and tongues and decades of longing and denial, of loss and reconciliation all wrapped into one physical interaction. This was everything he'd wanted to do so long ago but had never allowed himself to consider, to bid Bucky farewell with a kiss on the eve of his departure for the front, or when he found him again in that HYDRA base, or when they were reunited after Bucky regained his memories. It was a long time coming, in short.

Even in all of that, Steve hadn't forgotten that Natasha was there, too. He squeezed her hand tenderly, not wanting her to try and slip away. This was also her moment, even if she didn't realize it yet.

With the eventual parting of lips (plus one more slightly less intense kiss for good measure), Steve turned his eyes to Natasha. There wasn't any hesitation now that the proverbial ice had been broken--he dipped his head to catch her next, kissing her in a way he hoped would quell her doubt about his abilities. Maybe it was greedy for him to want them both, but Steve had never asked for much in his life. If he could just have the two of them, then he could be content.

@70yearsofwinter @xlianovna

[my-archived-blog]

"Your Mr. McNeal was pretty insistent!"

poirot: do not be ridiculous 😤 that man does not belong to me!!

"It's your Captain Hastings, Monsieur Poirot! He's got us all organized."

poirot: yes my hastings is wonderful is he not?? 🥰

[cortex-rampage]

I find the way that BBC Merlin set up Merlin's powers in the first episode to be quite funny. I mean, we see this sort of lanky guy and it is established that he is Merlin and (according to our own common knowledge) therefore he is the most powerful warlock ever. Okay, cool. One might assume that he has come to Gaius to develop his powers, that maybe he's only in the beginning of his magical journey. But instead the exposition shows Merlin, in the pilot episode of this 5 series show, stop time and employ levitation to save someone's life with magic, and then it is announced that prince Arthur is essentially his soulmate, and their joint power will create the most glorious age Camelot has ever seen. Quite an exciting set-up. And then for the rest of the entire show this man who we know possesses TIME-ALTERING POWERS mostly uses them on-screen to do common chores and annoy and prank THAT SAME Arthur. Like that one post said, "All of it's destiny and all of it's his fault." :p

[artgletic]

case study of the self-identified god