#it's so hard to tell who's who with these costumes

[five-one-two-station]

At this point I am convinced some people are watching this show solely via the subtitle files, because that's the only thing that explains drastically misunderstanding everything that's not spelled out in dialogue to this extent.

Honestly some of the most embarrassing mass failure of media literacy I've ever seen. It's not even complicated stuff, it's basic text comprehension and story fluency.

- No, Caitlyn's "I know!" is not anger at being called out; she's saying she is very, very painfully aware of what she's done wrong. Watch it again.

- No she didn't take the guards away or go to the cell to have sex with Vi. TF?!?

It was Vi who initiated; Caitlyn was surprised she did.

She pulled the guards away to help Vi if/when she chose to do what she knows her well enough to know she probably would. Vi makes her choice - Caitlyn doesn't "let" her, she just supports it, because it's Vi's choice to make.

Vi has no idea she's done this until after, it doesn't affect her "agency" at all. That's not what any of those words mean!

- She did this as a direct acknowledgement of and response to Vi's previous criticisms.

You are supposed to be able to make the very, very minimal leap of imagination required to understand what the show is telling you here; that she is genuinely sorry, genuinely committed to getting her shit together, and that she has heard and received every word that Vi has told her.

The reason this gesture is so important is that it demonstrates she's now going out on a limb to put herself, her resources, and her privilege to work for the greater good.

And the reason Vi reacts the way she does is that she understands all of this immediately.

You should not need the show to sit you down and spell this out to you step by step Barney the Dinosaur style.

- She works very hard and sacrifices quite a lot to try to do right by people after fucking up so badly before, but not before very explicitly acknowledging that she can't undo the harm she's already done. And this isn't even an inference thing, she actually even says this bit out loud twice, and you still somehow missed it.

- For $5, what do you think the show was suggesting by having Sevika take up her seat, her final costume have no Enforcer uniform elements, and having her allude to an ongoing struggle. Come on, guess.

I am loathe to call people stupid just because some tv show stuff sailed over their heads, but... y'all are legitimately testing that. This is not exactly The Holy Mountain or something, it is very straightforward storytelling.

And just... I mean why would you be this loud about anything without making sure you didn't have it ass backways first?!? In public!?!? 💀

You guys, you have to watch shows to know what is happening in them.

[venuslarkspur]

Teen Hero Shenanigans

(The Prologue)

Fall Of Girl Wonder

Summary: Your Damian’s Twin Sister who arrived 3 years after your brother, because of your late arrival you’re never excepted to become Robin, until your brother runs away and you volunteer to take his place in his absence, things are going well until Damian returns and you are thrown under the bus completely by being told you can’t be Robin anymore, after bottling up your anger you decide to go solo by running away and stealing a Batgirl costume. But you’re not alone, your sort of boyfriend joins you; which would be okay if it wasn’t your brother’s best friend of all people.

Pairings: Batfam x Batsis (platonic), Jon Kent x reader (romantic). Very bittersweet tbh, you love your bf but you’re also proving your worth to your family.

Notes: Reader and Damian are very on and off but do love each other ofc. (they only really had one another growing up in the league) To clear things up Bruce has a genuine reason for discharging reader of the Robin mantle but that’s an epilogue thing I fear, Reader is 16 so is Jon. I’d give this series maybe a 15+ rating as there will be be some heavy topics involved and some “problematic” language icl. Reader also is closest with Cass and Jason specifically, all of this isn’t at all comic book accurate but does include elements from the comics. (Also very fanony when it’s comes to the Batfam and Superfam) (I don’t own any of the characters this is fan-fiction 💙)

Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, Damian runs away from home for a bit. Unless count Bruce being a semi shitty father then not a lot of warnings tbh. This is just the epilogue we haven’t even got to the real drama yet. 👏

Words: 1.4k

6 months, 2 weeks and 3 days. That’s how long you’ve held the Robin mantle, you trained none stop before even having volunteered for it. You wondered what your plan even was, as long as Damian had it you couldn’t. Then he ran away and it was all too convenient, you got the mask, the gloves and the cute boy. Were you worried about Damian? Obviously, you had panic attacks about it mid patrol, which meant whatever member of your family that was unlucky enough to be awake at that time, had to take your shift. You knew Barbara and Tim would track him eventually and were doing everything in their power, but that didn’t ease your worry, you even considered alerting your mother but you knew if she got wind of this she would force you to come back with her for your own safety, and you didn’t feel like going to back the small, sad, isolated girl you were before.

You had also gotten closer to Jon Kent, a best friend of your brother. In truth, you were lovesick, so is he. But it came as a bit of bittersweet shock to you both that over your course of searching for Damian you had given up along the way and became invested in one another. Eventually it become so much more than just a mutual love for Damian, soon the Damian questions become You questions. Things progressed quickly, it went from “Do you think my brother’s close by?” to “My dad and siblings aren’t home, do you wanna come over?” He makes it over every time, Alfred knows and you know that he knows. You begged him not to tell your father or anyone for that matter, he respected your decision to wait for the right time but would occasionally come in asking if you wanted anything. (You know it’s a ploy to check on you two) Clark and Lois 100% know and they approve but have been sworn to secrecy by you, you weren’t ashamed; of course not. It’s just that if you told even just one of your siblings, knowing them they would spill and accidentally tell another one of your siblings until the cycle continues and eventually reaches Damian. Though you were sure Cass already knew and you suspected Jason was catching on, but you weren’t even surprised that he was beginning to find out. He knew you well, after a good three years spending time and training with him and his group of people it became hard to keep secrets, although your weird duo did start off as a result of you being upset and jealous of Damian’s close relationship with Dick, your sure you’d still pick being Jason’s dysfunctional- unofficial sidekick.

As for Cass you knew there was a mutual appreciation for the fact you were both less outnumbered in terms of Bruce’s female children, sure Barbara was like an old sister to you and she always supported you over the com line on missions. But it wasn’t the same as having an actual sister, but it was unusual to call any of them your siblings, not just Cass. It took a while but the first time you remember calling one of them your brother or sister was when Dick had to come all the way and pick you up from school because of a “skiing accident” with your father, you knew immediately something must of happened because Alfred was always on time to get you, So when Dick came along you told your teacher your brother was here to pick you up instead, she waved you goodbye and as your entered the car you noticed the slight grin of his face, looking like he wanted to tease you, but knowing you weren’t like Damian and wouldn’t even deny accepting him as a brother. You adapted much quicker than Damian, even if you have to get used to having 5 more siblings from now. (Yes I included Duke. <3)

It was the start of Christmas month and you were just doing your rounds with Stephanie and Barbara around the mall, Steph had gotten distracted a couple of times whilst window shopping but you and Barb managed to tug her along. You were nervous as your 16th birthday was also approaching, Jon had already turned 16 and you got to see him on his birthday; by masking it as going on patrol. It was fun but the question was popped at the party on when you were planning on telling your family about your relationship, you tensed up but luckily Lois took your side and encouraged you to tell Bruce and the rest when you were ready. This is why you like her. But right now you couldn’t think of that, you had to look for a present for Jon without being suspected.

Luckily Barbara had gone in the nearby cafe to get you guys some drinks, but that still left you with Steph. Maybe if you played it calm she wouldn’t even notice, so you started searching around looking at stuff and you thought you were safe. “Whatchu got there?” She bubbled, you took about a 5 foot jump backwards before blushing intensely. “Nothing?” You said calmly whilst shoving the item back on the shelf, she put her hand on her chin as if she was inspecting you. “Sooo who’s the lucky guy then? Or girl.” She smirked, “There’s no use lying is there?” You asked, “Absolutely not, so spill.” She leaned in and studied your face, “I can’t tell you who, but I’ve been seeing someone and before you ask I’m not in any trouble.” You confess, she shrugs as if wanting to ask more but Barbara called out to you both drinks in hand, you swiftly looked back at Steph just for her to do a zipping motion with her lips, which satisfied you enough. “What have I missed?” Barb asked, you let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in and spoke up. “Well I was just wondering-“ You were cut of by a notification sound on Barbara’s phone, “We need to get back to the manor, now.” She said without a hint of warmth in her voice. What has happened now? You had quickly all changed into costume excepting the worst.

——————————

You hastily made you way through the manor, Steph and Barbara in tow. Tim was waiting at the entrance to the kitchen and he tried to stop you, “Hey-don’t go in yet-“ you shrugged him off and continued on and Barbara eyed him suspiciously. You wished that you had waited, you weren’t prepared to see your newly found twin brother sitting on one of the stools with an ice pack above his brow, deep cuts layered across his arms and bruises across his neck. He must of put up a good fight against whichever one of your siblings found him, you assumed it was Dick as he was in costume and had slashes of his own. Alfred sat next to him tending to his wounds whilst your father was stood next to him checking out the marks Alfred wasn’t attending to, the room had now fell silent as everyone had now realised how awkward it was for Damian to see his twin sister in a Robin get up, this is the worst. You simply only stared into each others matching green eyes until you made the first move and ran over collapsed into him giving him a bone crushing hug, he sat all tensed up before slowly returning the hug. “I’m sorry brother-I-I just.” Tears welled down your face before you threw off your mask and let it land on the other side of the room, you had never felt so relieved and guilty at the same time.

——————————

That night you stayed with your brother as long as possible, you had so many questions but right now you just wanted to embrace his return. Since it was an uncomfortable situation for everyone, most of the family decided to stay the night. You had crossed paths with Jason mid kitchen trip and he checked in on you first, but you couldn’t pin why it felt like he was holding something in. “You know you could forget all about this Girl Wonder thing and just join me like old times.” He proposed, you looked at him puzzled. “By old times you mean a couple months ago? Also why are you asking me this? did something happen?” You questioned but watched as he couldn’t meet your gaze, “Bruce wants to see you downstairs, but you don’t have to go-“ “Okay fair enough, I’ll go see him now.” You interrupted and walked past him and ignored his muffled rejections as you were now approaching the main office.

You should have listened to Jason, you should have gone with him. You’d regret not listening to him.

————————————

“Good news, you can put away the Robin costume for good now.”

————————————

Taglist: @waterwyne @venusmorning

(Part 1 is out!)

[rd0265667]

Irene X Reader: Stupid Human

shakespeare would be dead on the floor if he saw how good this was~@seullovesme

Tags: Tsundere, Genie Irene(she just reached through the screen and slapped me for calling her a genie)

There were 3 things you knew were absolute in this world, the chapter you did not study will be tested, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, and that if you made it out of this alive, Jimin was going to kill you. With a sack of potatoes, all the while telling you that she had told you so. “Stop walking home at night yourself.” She’d insist. You nodded in faux agreement, mostly to placate your best friend. Listen, Taxis are expensive, and you’d gotten self defence training, not just that, you kept a pepper spray on you, an item that Jimin seemed to have in spades. See, it’ll be fine.

Except, yeah. No. The so-called universe clearly had other ideas, because here you were, hands tied, a thick, uncomfortable blindfold over your eyes, and the scent of incense hanging around you like a curse. The blindfold ripped off with a tug, and there they were: three figures in dark robes, all with candles, strange charms, and enough assorted witchy knick knacks to look like a shitty halloween costume. Bound by a chalk-drawn circle on the cold stone floor, you realised the truth. You’d been kidnapped. By a cult.

Of course you had.

"I know, I know," you muttered under your breath, almost amused despite it all. Of course they were a cult. That’s just your luck. “Honestly, blame the author. Cliche little shit.”

“Hey, umm, fellas, can we talk this out?” You look around, trying desperately to get one of the cultists to look at you, but to no avail. “Let us begin.” The one most clad in regalia spoke, the other two nodding, as they began to chant softly.

You look at them in light amusement, despite the predicament you found yourself in. This all seemed ridiculous. This stuff didn’t exist. As if the world was on an agenda to prove you wrong today, from a small amulet lying on the table emerged a smoky figure, a cute but seemingly sinister smile on her face as her arms stayed close. Seeing the figure emerge, the three cultists immediately bowed down. “Who awakens me from my slumber.” The deep and husky voice of the figure boomed, her voice as smooth as velvet and twice as dangerous. “Oh exalted one, we bring you this fine sacrifice as an offering for your great power.” The main cultist spoke.

Sacrifice. Yeah, that word did not sound good. Panicking, your mind began to whir, neurons firing, trying as hard to think of something, a way to get out of this. “Wait! May I speak?” You quickly say, forcing the words from your mouth. All three cultists glared at you like they wished they’d gagged you sooner, one of them even moving to push you down. But with a snap of her fingers, the spirit stilled them, her gaze settling on you, curious and amused. “Speak.” “Oh exalted one, I bring you these 3 cultists as an offering for your great power.” You quickly say. There was a beat where you weren’t sure she’d respond at all, and then, she laughed—a low, husky chuckle that filled the room. “I accept.” She said, fingers snapping once again, the 3 cultists disappearing, the ropes around your wrist going free.

The spirit stood with her arms crossed, watching you with a gaze that was sharp but softened at the edges. She tilted her head, considering you, and then gave a faint, almost reluctant sigh, as if this entire situation had been some unnecessary hassle she couldn’t quite bring herself to resent.

“Well,” she said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully, “I guess you did offer those cultists. So, I owe you.” She paused, the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. “Three wishes. Don’t get too excited.” Her tone was cool, but there was a flicker in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or the barest hint of a smile she hadn’t meant to let slip. Her arms dropped from their crossed position, one hand falling casually to her side, as if relaxing just enough to test the waters.

“So,” she continued, studying you with a mix of amusement and intrigue, “what’s it going to be? ”

You raised an eyebrow. “A little excited, aren’t we?”

A tiny snort escaped her, and she gave you a look somewhere between exasperated and amused. “It’s my duty, I don’t have a choice… but I’ll admit, you’re… a little more interesting than most of the mortals who’ve tried summoning me before.”

You couldn’t help but grin, sensing you were maybe, just maybe, getting through her walls. “Guess that’s something, right?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “So,” she said again, her voice a touch less frosty, “let’s hear it. What’s your first wish?”

You raised your hands, giving her a quick shake of your head. “Look, Genie woman-” “I’m not a genie! And call me Irene.’ Irene said almost indignantly

“Alright, Irene, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t actually need any wishes,” you said, surprised at your own words even as they came out. “I mean, sure, it’d be nice to have a few things, but I don’t want to get into any of this business.”

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Excuse me?” she replied, her voice cool but laced with an edge of irritation. “You dragged me out of slumber, and now you’re… passing on your wishes?”

You shrugged, feeling strangely casual despite her intense stare. “In my defence, I didn’t wake you, the cultists did. And in the end, you got the cultists; I got to walk out of this situation without a scratch. So, no harm, no foul?”

She let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s not that simple.” Her voice softened, but you could still hear the exasperation there. “Without the wishes, I’ll be… bound to you.” Her cheeks flushed a faint pink, which she tried to hide by looking anywhere but at you. “Until your wishes are granted, I can’t sever the connection. It’s… an inconvenient rule.”

You paused, processing that, and she gave you an indignant look.

“Before you get any ridiculous ideas,” she added, her tone defensive, “this isn’t some arrangement I chose. It’s an ancient pact, one I’m obligated to follow.” She shifted uncomfortably, almost as if she were embarrassed to admit it. “So, if you have any decency, you’ll make your three wishes and let me be on my way.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise it was that serious,” you replied, trying not to smile at how put out she seemed. 

“Can’t I wish for your freedom?” 

“For the last time, I’m not a genie!” Irene said, her indignation now in full force

“So if I don’t make these wishes… you’re stuck with me?”

Her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing. “Unfortunately, yes. And trust me, the last thing I need is to spend my time… babysitting a stupid human.”

There was a faint, grudging warmth to her tone, like she was trying to convince herself she didn’t mind either way. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t entirely against the idea. But the flash of vulnerability was gone in an instant, and she folded her arms, looking at you with an expectant glare.

“Well, give me some time to think about it, is that okay?” You ask with a sheepish smile.

“Fine, but you’d better not make me wait.” Irene grunted, rolling her eyes before she snapped her fingers, her form turning to mist, absorbed into a spiral, flying towards the amulet.

You stared at the amulet dumbfoundedly, scratching your head. This was going to be a tough sell in therapy

“Finally here to make your first wish?” Irene grumbled as she appeared in a swirl of smoky tendrils. But when she took in the sight of you—cross-legged in a bright blue monster onesie, surrounded by enough snacks to feed a village, her confident smirk immediately faltered.

Her gaze swept over the scene, and she raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “What is all this? Some weird human ritual? Or are you trying to summon a spirit with all this… junk food?”

You rolled your eyes, catching the way her lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “No, no, nothing like that. Jimin was supposed to come over for a sleepover, but she got called into work at the last minute. And… Well, the food was for her. She eats like a bear.”

Irene huffed, crossing her arms with a look of supreme indifference. “And that concerns me why?”

“Well…” you looked up at her, trying out your best pleading eyes. “I was hoping maybe you’d help me out with it?”

“Help you out?” She arched an eyebrow, her look turning sceptical. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to waste one of your precious wishes… on food?”

You nodded, trying not to laugh. “It’s my wish, right? So technically, I can do whatever I want with it?”

She crossed her arms, lips pursed, clearly torn between annoyance and disbelief. “Fine, whatever,” she muttered, snapping her fingers. “But don’t blame me if you regret it.”

With a flash, her elaborate robes transformed into soft, striped pyjamas in muted blues and browns, her hair pulled back in a neat braid, with a scrunchie around her wrist. She looked down, then let out an irritated huff, tugging at her sleeves as if they were a personal affront.

“Um… what exactly are you doing?” you asked, biting back a laugh.

She scowled, face flushing slightly. “Look, you weren’t specific, okay? So this is what you get. I’m ‘dealing with the food,’ just like you asked.” She added the last part in a mumble, like she was thoroughly unimpressed with herself, her indignation less befitting of a supernatural power and more fit of a teenage girl stuck at home, eliciting a chuckle from you

“Uh-huh. Well… have a seat,” you said, patting the couch beside you. “And, for the record, you look amazing.”

Irene went rigid, her cheeks taking on a noticeable pink hue as she shot you a glare. “D-Don’t say dumb things like that! It’s not like I dressed up to impress you, okay? Besides, I’m a supernatural being, of course I look amazing” she snapped, but despite her protest, she slowly sat down beside you, folding her arms and turning her face away.

You just chuckled, hitting play on the remote.

A few minutes into the movie, you noticed Irene sneaking little glances at the screen. She was practically rolling her eyes at every line, but you could tell she was getting into it, her lips starting to move along to the songs.

“Seriously? Aladdin?” she asked, voice laced with mock disdain. “I’m not a genie, you know.”

“Hey, I just wanted a way to explain you to Jimin. Aladdin was the closest thing I could think of.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Irene groaned, lying down as the movie started. As the movie played, you couldn’t help but chuckle. Irene wasn’t fooling anybody. She was acting like she’d rather be anywhere but here, but she was the one humming the songs, the one bobbing her head. She seemed almost human. “What’re you looking at, stupid human.” She mumbled the last part, blushing, clearly realising that she had been caught. “Nothing, nothing, you just look really cute like that.” “Shut up!” Irene grumbled

When the movie finally ended, she cleared her throat, fixing you with a glare that was more defensive than angry. “Alright, I have to know—why would you waste a wish on something this ridiculous? You have all this power, and you just… use it on snacks?” She sounded incredulous, as if your choice was somehow a personal offence to her.

You shrugged, the humour fading from your voice. “I don’t know… I just think this kind of power doesn’t belong in anyone’s hands. ‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely,’ right? I don’t think anyone ever did the world any good by trying to play god.” “That’s….new. Most of the people who used my powers just used it for their own selfish gain, but you’re different.” Irene pondered “Well, like you said, I’m an interesting mortal.” You quipped with a smile. “Stupid, but an interesting mortal.” Irene grunted. “So how does this go, does the wish just consume itself.” “Well, no, you need to say, my first wish has been granted.” Irene explains. “Alright, umm, my first wish has been granted.” You say, causing Irene to slip back into the amulet

You’d been pacing your room for nearly an hour, turning over your next wish in your mind. You were conflicted on this one. On the one hand, you didn't want to make wishes that were just made to benefit you, but…on the other hand, how much harm could this wish be? And this got Irene one step closer to being unbound from you anyways

In a swirl of smoke, Irene appeared, arms crossed, her gaze flicking over you with that ever-present mixture of annoyance and exasperation. "Another wish already?" she drawled, her voice dripping with boredom. "This had better be important. I’m busy."

You winced a little at her tone but pressed on, determined. “I—uh—I’ve got my high school reunion coming up, and, well... I don’t have a date. I was wondering if you could, you know, help out? Just, like, make sure I don’t show up looking like a total disaster?”

Irene raised an eyebrow, not a hint of sympathy in her expression. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to pretend to be your date? For a whole night? To keep up the charade for your high school buddies?" She scoffed, her voice thick with mockery. "Honestly, humans are so pathetic sometimes."

You shifted, feeling the familiar sting of her words, but held your ground. "I don’t need anything fancy. Just someone who won’t make me look like I’m still living in the basement."

Irene rolled her eyes. “Honestly, humans are so pathetic sometimes,” she muttered, but her gaze softened just a touch. With a deep sigh, she snapped her fingers, and in a swirl of light, her usual flowing robes were replaced by an elegant black dress, sleek and understated yet somehow breathtaking. Her hair was swept up in a loose, casual style, a few strands framing her face, and there was a faint flush on her cheeks as she looked you over with barely-concealed irritation.

“Wait,” you stammered, staring at her in surprise. “You… you’re my date?”

Irene scoffed, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her shoulder. “What? You thought I’d conjure up some random person and just send you off? That’s not how this works,” she said, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m your wish, so I’m the one going.”

You struggled to keep a smile off your face, but she must have caught the glimmer of excitement in your eyes because she immediately turned away, feigning exasperation. “Don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show,” she muttered.

The reunion venue buzzed with familiar faces and old classmates, some of whom you hadn’t seen since graduation. The moment you walked in with Irene on your arm, heads turned. Her cool, detached beauty drew immediate attention, and whispers trailed after you as people cast curious glances in your direction.

Irene’s expression remained perfectly unreadable, though you noticed her eyes darting around, subtly assessing the room with a hint of wariness. You leaned toward her, whispering, “See? You’re already the most intimidating person here.”

She huffed, but a small, self-satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Hardly a challenge, considering,” she murmured.

The reunion was in full swing, the laughter and chatter echoing around the grand ballroom as old friends and classmates reunited. Irene stood beside you, her presence commanding attention in a way that almost made you forget your nerves. She was cool and collected, her eyes scanning the room as if nothing could faze her.

“Everything okay?” you asked, still a little self-conscious as people gave you curious looks when they saw Irene on your arm. It was hard to ignore the whispers floating around.

Irene turned to you, her expression unreadable but softening just a fraction. “Why wouldn’t it be?” she asked, her tone casual but with a hint of something else—a little amusement at your discomfort. "People just like to gawk at anything different, don’t worry about it."

You nodded, unsure how to respond. It was obvious that she didn’t care about the stares. She never did. But you weren’t quite as unaffected. Still, the fact that she was here with you helped ease the tension. In her presence, with her arm looped around yours, the room didn’t feel so intimidating.

The evening passed by in a blur, with Irene at your side, casually deflecting people’s attempts to engage with her with a polite but icy tone. Her reactions ranged from curt one-liners to complete disinterest, but something about the way she carried herself made everyone respect the boundaries she set. They knew better than to push.

You caught up with some old friends, and every now and then, Irene would lean in close, offering a dry comment or two. When someone mentioned an awkward moment from high school, she would casually toss out a sarcastic remark that left the group laughing in spite of themselves. It felt almost like she was part of the conversation, even though her presence remained otherworldly.

It was when the slow music started playing, and the floor cleared a little, that Irene surprised you. She didn’t flinch when you tentatively extended your hand, as if she hadn’t even thought about it. “You’re going to make me look bad, aren’t you?” she said with a raised eyebrow, her lips curling just slightly.

You couldn’t tell whether she was teasing or genuinely reluctant. But either way, you didn’t have the courage to let the moment pass. You gently took her hand, feeling the softness of her skin and the coolness of her touch. “Just for the night,” you said quietly.

Irene nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Fine,” she muttered, but you saw the look in her eyes. There was something real there, a quiet warmth that surprised you. Something that said she didn’t mind it as much as she let on.

The music drifted through the room, the melody slow and soft, and you both swayed to it with an ease you didn’t expect. It wasn’t a grand, ballroom dance—just the quiet movements of two people trying to blend in.

Irene’s grip on your hand was firm but relaxed, her other hand lightly resting on your shoulder. The faintest glow of the room’s dim lights made the curves of her face softer than usual, and for the first time, she didn’t look like she was trying to escape.

“You’re not half-bad at this,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper as her gaze met yours. The teasing edge was gone, replaced by something else—something almost vulnerable. “You should get used to it. People will start thinking we’re a real couple.”

You tried not to let her words throw you off guard, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Is that so?” you teased, feeling a little emboldened. “Would that bother you?”

For a split second, Irene’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—something deeper, more genuine—before she straightened, letting the mask fall back into place. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said firmly, though there was a softness to her voice that didn’t quite match the sharpness of her words. “This is all for show.”

You wanted to laugh but held it in, not wanting to break the fragile moment between you, though you had to admit, you’d been enjoying yourself, and hearing that it was all for show hurt a little. Instead, you just nodded. "Of course," you murmured, your eyes lingering on hers. She quickly averted her gaze, but there was still a softness there that hadn’t been there before.

For the next few moments, you both continued to sway together, caught in the rhythm of the music. You could feel the tension between you, the space between what she wanted to be and what she was allowing herself to feel.

And then, just as the song was about to end, Irene squeezed your hand—a fleeting touch that almost felt like an accidental intimacy. Her gaze met yours for the briefest moment, a look that spoke volumes, but she quickly pulled away, her cool, aloof demeanour returning in full force.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she muttered again, but the glimmer of a smile was still present, hidden behind her usual sarcasm. 

You watched her for a moment, noting the pink in her cheeks that she was desperately trying to ignore. “Thanks, Irene,” you said, your voice soft but sincere.

She rolled her eyes and took a step back. “Whatever. You’re welcome.” Irene said, unable to contain a blush as she looked away

The rest of the night passed in a similar rhythm. Well, you hoped it would, but clearly not.

As the night wore on, the buzz of the reunion picked up, and more familiar faces came and went. The wine flowed freely, and the tension between past and present felt less like a weight and more like a strange mix of nostalgia and regret. You were starting to relax, enjoying the unexpected camaraderie of having Irene by your side. It had become clear she wasn’t just tolerating the evening anymore—she was leaning into it, in her own subtle way. Her usual sarcastic quips were still there, but they had a bit more warmth, a bit more playfulness.

It was then that the moment you’d been dreading—Jackson—finally made his appearance.

You hadn’t seen him in years, but it didn’t take more than a few seconds for him to spot you. His face twisted into that familiar smug grin, the one you’d spent high school trying to avoid. He sauntered over, drink in hand, his eyes immediately darting to Irene. It only took him a moment to size her up, his grin widening into something far too pleased with himself.

“Well, well, well…” He looked at you first, then back at Irene, his gaze lingering longer than it should have. “What do we have here? I didn’t think you’d ever get a date for this thing, but, well, it seems you’ve outdone yourself.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the old sting was still there, the reminder of high school’s worst moments rising to the surface. He wasn’t just an ass, he was an expert ass—a master at making people feel small.

Irene, however, didn’t flinch. Her eyes flicked over him, cool as ever. But the way her lips twisted, just slightly, into something that wasn’t exactly amusing caught you off guard. She wasn’t about to let him ruin your night. She wasn’t about to let anyone do that.

“So,” Jackson continued, taking a step closer to Irene with a suggestive grin, “did you get roped into this too, or are you the one with the real taste in men? Because, I gotta say” He motioned toward you, still grinning like he had the upper hand. “You could do a lot better.”

You tensed, but before you could say anything, Irene stepped in, her voice suddenly colder than the temperature of the room.

“Excuse me?” she cut in sharply, her tone dangerously sweet. “You think I’m here because I was roped into it?” She looked him over like she was inspecting a particularly repulsive insect. “No, darling, I’m here because I wanted to be. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone like you if I were paid to. And trust me,” she added, her voice turning slightly mocking, “I can do better than someone who thinks their charm is something worth showing off.”

The asshole’s smug expression faltered just slightly, his confidence wavering. “You can’t seriously think—” he began, but Irene cut him off again, her voice sharper than a whip.

“Oh, but I do.” Her eyes flashed with an icy intensity that made him take a step back. “But here’s the thing, buddy—you might want to look in a mirror and reconsider who’s really the joke here.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was the kind of smile that made people feel small. “I’m here, because I want to be here, and there is no one else I’d rather be here with. You talk a big game, but you’re just a sad sack, at least Y/N is a good person, someone who doesn’t make me want to smoothen out my ears with sandpaper”

Jackson blinked, clearly stunned by her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but Irene didn’t give him a chance. Her voice, calm and controlled, broke through the tension like a blade.

“If you’re really trying to flirt with me,” she continued, “you might want to step up your game. You might have been cute back in high school, still I doubt it, never had a thing for bullies with a Napoleon complex bigger than their little peanuts, but now? Well, it’s clearer now that nothing about you’s changed. You’re still the same pathetic little boy trying to prove something that doesn’t matter.”

His face turned a shade of red you couldn’t quite describe. He opened his mouth again, stammering, but no words came out. Finally, he turned on his heel, muttering something under his breath before practically running away.

You stood there, blinking in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. That had been… unexpected. Irene was usually so detached, so indifferent, that seeing her actually stand up for you—really stand up for you—felt different 

She stood there for a moment, arms crossed, her usual confident mask still in place. But when she turned to you, her eyes softened for just a moment, concern, care, maybe even a tinge of affection, all wrapped in one, just enough that you could see the faintest glimmer of something like… pride?

“You’re not a complete disaster, you know,” she said quietly, looking at you as if she were trying to convince herself more than anything. “That guy was pathetic, but you? You’ve got more going for you than you think.”

You blinked, not entirely sure how to respond. “Thanks,” you said after a beat, your voice soft but full of sincerity.

She rolled her eyes, the typical Irene sarcasm flooding back. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t about to let him run his mouth. Someone had to shut him down.” Her gaze flickered briefly to the spot where Jackson had since retreated, and she smirked. “Honestly, he deserved it. Can’t believe people like that still exist.”

You could see her trying to hide the fact that she did care, that she hadn’t just defended you out of duty. But the way her gaze lingered on you for a second too long gave it away.

“Let’s just get out of here,” she muttered, her hand brushing yours as she moved to leave the crowd behind. But before you could walk away, she glanced over her shoulder. “And don’t think for one second I’m doing this for you. I’m only here because I’m bored. Remember that.”

Just as you were about to leave, however, you heard a soft song began to play. “May I have one last dance?” You asked, bowing your head as you extended your hand to Irene. Irene didn’t immediately respond, and for a moment, you thought she might dismiss you or make some sharp comment. But when you looked at her, you saw something else—something subtle in the way she relaxed, just a fraction. She sighed, eyes flickering from you to the floor and back again, and for the briefest moment, you saw that tiny spark of warmth she usually hid so well.

“Don’t make me regret this. You’re lucky I like this song.” she muttered, her voice soft but steady.

With a small, almost imperceptible smile, you led her to the centre of the ballroom. The music swelled around you, filling the space with a gentle rhythm as the two of you settled into the dance. The movement was slow, effortless—just the two of you, caught in a moment of quiet connection. Irene’s hand rested lightly on your shoulder, and hers in your hand was warm, soft, but her fingers still held that quiet, guarded strength that reminded you who she was.

Her gaze stayed just slightly averted, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. It wasn’t something you were used to seeing, and it made your heart skip a beat. You’d seen her icy exterior so many times, but here, in the privacy of this slow dance, there was something else—something less perfect, less guarded.

“I didn’t expect you to dance like this,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft, the teasing edge in her tone barely there. “I thought you'd be a disaster.”

You chuckled quietly, not wanting to break the delicate silence between you. “Well, I’m full of surprises.”

Her lips quirked, so subtle it was barely noticeable, like a wind in the storm. "I guess so." She shifted slightly, her other hand resting gently on your arm, her movements smooth, as though she was slowly letting go of her usual defenses. For a moment, you felt her melt into you, and it made your chest tighten with something you couldn’t quite place.

The song continued, and the two of you swayed in perfect rhythm, as though you’d done this a hundred times before. You couldn’t help but notice how close you were now, how every little movement seemed to draw her nearer. The smell of her perfume lingered in the air, warm and comforting, and you couldn’t resist stealing glances at her—just a quick look at the way her face softened in the quiet of the dance.

Irene’s gaze flickered toward the ground for a second, but when she looked back at you, it was with a rare, almost hesitant warmth. "I don't do this," she said, her voice almost a whisper. 

“Hmm?” You hum in curiosity as you continue to sway.

"Letting people close. But…"

"But?" you prodded gently, your heart thumping just a little faster.

Her eyes met yours again, and for the first time all night, you saw something different—a quiet acceptance, not of you, but of the moment. “But it’s not the worst thing.” She looked away quickly, her cheeks flushing a deeper pink now, but you caught a smile tugging at her lips.

You both danced in silence for a while, the music winding down, the world outside of the ballroom forgotten.  Her hand tightened around yours, just a fraction, as if to hold on to this fleeting moment, a moment she’d never admit to wanting.

As the final notes of the song drifted into silence, you weren’t ready to let go. So, you didn’t. You held her for just a little longer, letting the stillness of the moment settle between you. Her breath was steady, her chest rising and falling against yours, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed for a second. It felt peaceful—almost perfect.

But then, of course, Irene cleared her throat, breaking the moment with her usual sharpness. “Well, that wasn’t terrible,” she said, voice laced with sarcasm, though her tone was quieter than usual. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m not turning into some sentimental fool just because you managed to stand on your feet without tripping.”

You smiled at the playful edge in her voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Her lips twitched, the faintest sign of a smile, but she quickly masked it again. “Good. Let’s get out of here before you start thinking I actually enjoyed that.” But there was something in her voice—a softness beneath the teasing—that told you more than her words ever could.

As the two of you pulled away from the dance floor, the night seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a quiet understanding between you. Irene, despite all the walls she’d built around herself, had let a little bit of them fall tonight. And in that moment, with her hand still resting lightly in yours, you knew this was more than just a dance. It was the start of something new—something neither of you had expected, but both of you felt deep down.

But Irene? She would never say it. She simply looked at you, rolling her eyes, and muttered, "I’m not a damsel in distress, so don’t go getting any ideas about saving me, okay?"

You grinned, your heart full in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. “I’m not,” you replied, but the unspoken truth hung between you two—there was something here, something that went beyond what either of you would admit.

“Well, the night’s over.” Irene said, her usual matter of fact tone, but you sensed a lower, almost unspoken tone to her voice, as if she was almost disappointed. “Yeah, I guess it is. My second wish is granted.” You say, Irene vanishing back into the amulet. You rest your hand on the amulet, allowing your hand to linger. You hadn’t wanted Irene’s power, you still didn’t, but you had come to value her presence, and this night had just left you wanting for more. Too bad you only had one more wish left.

You let out a long sigh, stepping out of the shop with your groceries clutched in your hands. You had to make your last wish soon. It was always part of the plan—the last step, the one you had promised yourself to fulfil. It’s what you wanted at first, and it’s what Irene had said she wanted, too. But now that the moment had come, the hesitation clung to you like a weight around your chest.

You couldn’t shake the thought that something wasn’t right. After everything that had happened between you two—after everything you had gone through together—the idea of letting her go felt more and more like an impossible choice. She might’ve wanted her freedom, sure, but now that it was so close, you weren’t sure if you were ready for the finality of it.

Your footsteps echoed in the cool evening air as you walked, the weight of the decision pressing in. Distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed the soft sound of footsteps trailing behind you. It was too quiet, too deliberate. Your heart skipped a beat as a cold shiver ran down your spine.

You glanced over your shoulder. Figures. Three men, walking too close. They emerged from the shadows with knowing grins, their eyes narrowing as they stared at your bags.

"Hey, you!" one of them shouted, his voice thick with menace as he sized you up. "Looks like you’ve got some nice bags there. Why don’t you hand ‘em over?"

You groaned. “Of course, first a kidnapping, then a mugging. The writer needs to get some new material.”

The leader stepped forward, his face twisting into a grin that made your stomach flip. "Shut it. Empty your pockets. Now."

The second man—tall, broad-shouldered—took a step closer, and the third, a wiry figure, pulled out a knife. The metal gleamed menacingly in the dim light, sending a chill down your spine. Your pulse quickened. This was bad. So bad.

You needed a way out. Anything.

Panic clawed at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you reached up to your chest, hand on the amulet resting on your neck. 

The air around you shifted. A swirl of light filled the street, and the men froze, confusion flashing across their faces. In the blink of an eye, Irene appeared, stepping into the scene with effortless grace. Her presence was like ice—cool, calculating, and impossibly beautiful. She didn’t even look at the men as she turned her sharp gaze toward them, her eyes narrowing in distaste.

"What do you think you’re doing?" Her voice was low, smooth, but underneath it was something far more dangerous. She didn’t move, only stood still, her cold stare cutting through the group.

The leader’s bravado faltered just for a second, but it was enough. He took a step back, eyes wide with fear. "What the hell are you supposed to be? A freak?" he spat, trying to sound tough despite the growing unease in his voice.

Irene didn’t even blink. Instead, she flicked her wrist. The knife in the leader’s hand was torn from his grip with a flick of her fingers, sent spinning across the pavement, clattering into the street. His face twisted with shock, eyes widening as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

"Didn’t see that coming, did you?" Irene’s voice was syrupy sweet, dripping with sarcasm. She turned her attention to the second man without missing a beat. Before he could react, Irene was on him, her hand wrapping around his wrist in an iron grip. With one fluid motion, she twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him face-first into the pavement with brutal force.

The third man, seeing the others go down so easily, hesitated, his eyes darting around as if looking for a way out. But Irene was quicker. She raised a hand, and in an instant, the man was yanked off his feet, his body jerking toward her like a puppet on invisible strings. He flailed uselessly as she pulled him closer, her expression unchanging.

"Running?" Irene’s voice was dark with amusement. "How pathetic."

She lifted her hand higher, and with a final flick, she sent him crashing into a nearby dumpster with a sickening thud. The man groaned, crumpled against the metal, barely conscious but too dazed to fight back.

The leader was the last one standing, his face pale, eyes flicking nervously between Irene and his downed companions. Irene stepped forward, her gaze steady and dangerous. "You’re lucky I’m in a good mood," she said, her voice smooth and cold, "but you do not threaten my human."

The man stumbled backward, his legs trembling. But Irene didn’t let him get far. With a swift movement, she grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground with a terrifying ease.

"Get out of here before I make you regret it," she warned, her voice colder than the air around you.

The man’s pride shattered as he scrambled to his feet, his resolve gone. He turned and fled, leaving his comrades behind, their groans the only sounds as they slowly regained their senses. Irene let him go, her shoulders relaxed but her eyes never leaving the spot where he had disappeared.

You stood there, still processing what had just happened. Your heart was hammering, your legs shaking slightly, but the adrenaline was slowly starting to wear off. You couldn’t believe what you’d just witnessed..

Irene turned to you, her usual cool mask still in place, but there was something different in her eyes. Something almost... soft. "I... I don’t know what to say. You just... saved me."

Her eyes flickered over to you, and she let out a sigh, her usual nonchalance slipping back into place. "Don’t get all sentimental," she muttered, crossing her arms in front of her. "It’s not like I did it for you."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, a nervous sound, but a laugh all the same. The tension was melting away, replaced by a strange warmth. "I know. But still, thanks. You really... protected me."

Irene’s gaze flickered away, and her cheeks flushed just a little. "It’s not a big deal," she grumbled, the sharpness in her voice fading. "Just don’t go getting yourself mugged again. You’re a pain in the ass to deal with."

You chuckled softly, stepping closer. "I’ll try not to. Promise."

She shot you a sideways glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yeah, you better."

The two of you walked in silence for a moment, the street around you quiet once again. The world felt a little less heavy now, your body still shaking but comforted by her presence.

You glanced down at your Amulet, then back at Irene. "I guess this is it, huh? My last wish?"

Irene froze. For a moment, she looked like she’d been struck by lightning. Her eyes widened, and she blinked, mouth parting as if she was about to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she stammered, the icy coolness in her voice replaced by something... far less composed.

"That wasn’t a wish!" She snapped, her face flushed with embarrassment. "That was—! You—you didn’t wish for that! You’re—!"

You raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by her reaction. "But this is what you wanted, Irene. You're free now, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?"

Irene opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. Her hands clenched, and in a flash, she bolted—vanishing into the amulet in a swirl of light, leaving you standing there, confused and left alone.

The apartment door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing in your ears as you stood there, groceries still in hand. It had been weeks since you’d last seen your family, and you hadn’t been looking forward to this visit, but you couldn’t keep avoiding them. Not anymore. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you walked further into the dimly lit hallway of your childhood home. You had enough on your mind as it was, Irene having refused to emerge from the amulet

The place was just as you remembered—dusty corners, faded pictures on the walls, the smell of old furniture and lingering tension. You could feel it in the air before you even heard the voices.

"...You always do this, Mom. It's the same damn thing every time!" Your younger brother, Noah, yelled from the living room. "You never listen to anything I say. You just—"

"Noah, I told you, this isn’t a damn democracy! I’m the one who pays the bills here!" Your mother’s voice was strident, her temper rising as usual.

"You think you’re the only one who has problems, huh? You think it’s easy to get by in this house when everyone expects me to be some perfect kid?" Noah snapped back, his voice laced with bitterness.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, dragging you back into memories you had long buried. The fighting, the yelling, the way they always pulled you into the middle of it. You’d spent your whole childhood walking on eggshells, trying to soothe the chaos, but it never worked. It never made them stop.

And now here you are again. As much as you tried to get away, you always ended up back here. The familiar pain crept back into your chest, an old wound reopening, threatening to consume you.

You swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away.

In the living room, your father’s voice cut through the argument, trying to mediate, but it was no use. His calm was as fragile as glass, and you knew it wouldn’t take much to shatter it. “Both of you need to calm down! This isn’t helping anyone!” he shouted, but no one listened.

You stood at the edge of the hallway, the tension in the air pressing down on you like a heavy weight. You wanted to go in. You wanted to be the peacekeeper, the one who fixed everything like you always did. But you could already feel the familiar panic creeping in, the suffocating sense of being caught in the middle. It was too much. It had always been too much.

You froze, the words slamming into you like a wave. The argument wasn’t directed at you, but it didn’t matter. The noise—sharp, accusatory, rising and overlapping—burrowed into your chest. It dragged you back, pulling you under, to a time you couldn’t seem to forget.

The yelling. The anger. The helplessness.

When you were a kid, this was the soundtrack to your life. You’d spent countless nights hiding under your blankets, trembling as the walls seemed to shake with their shouting. Even now, as an adult, the sound didn’t just echo in your ears—it lived in your body, burrowing into the spaces where fear and pain had carved out homes long ago.

The voices got louder, blending into one another until they were an unintelligible roar. Your hands tightened around the bag of groceries until the plastic handles bit into your skin, but it wasn’t enough to ground you. Your chest tightened, your breaths coming too fast, too shallow. The hallway around you seemed to blur, the walls closing in as your heart pounded harder, faster.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

And the worst part? You knew this would happen. You knew. But you came anyway, thinking this time would be different. It never was.

Your vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling hot and heavy down your cheeks. A small, broken sound escaped your lips—a plea, a whisper of desperation, before clutching your chest.

The words barely left your mouth before the air in front of you shifted. A sudden rush of cold, then a plume of silvery smoke, shimmering faintly in the dim light. From the haze, Irene emerged.

Her figure was unmistakable, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. The usual air of superiority that clung to her was still there, but it softened the moment her gaze landed on you. Her expression changed instantly, the sharp edges melting into something you’d rarely seen from her—concern.

“What’s happening?” Irene asked, her voice low but urgent as she crouched down in front of you. Her hands hovered near your shoulders, unsure for a moment, before finally settling there. “Hey. Look at me. What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t do anything but shake your head as the tears kept falling. Your breath hitched, caught in your throat, and you gasped, clutching at your chest.

“Shit,” Irene muttered, her voice tinged with panic. “Okay, okay. Listen to me. You’re safe. You’re okay. Just breathe. Can you do that for me? In through your nose. That’s it.”

Her hands moved to cup your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears streaking your cheeks. Her touch was cool, grounding, and her voice—low, steady—cut through the noise in your head like a lifeline.

“Focus on me,” she urged, her tone softer now. “Whatever’s happening out there doesn’t matter. None of it can touch you. You’re here. You’re with me. Just keep breathing.”

Bit by bit, the tightness in your chest eased. Your sobs turned into shaky breaths, though your shoulders still trembled under her steady hands.

When you finally managed to meet her gaze, her usual sharpness was gone. The Irene looking at you now was softer, her eyes filled with something warmer, more protective.

“They were yelling again,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely audible. “It just—it reminded me of when I was a kid. I couldn’t stop it then, and I still can’t... I just...”

Irene’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering toward the muffled argument still raging in the living room. When she looked back at you, there was a quiet fury in her expression, like she’d burn the world down in an instant.

“You don’t have to stop it,” she said firmly. “You don’t have to fix it, or even deal with it. That’s not your job. And it’s sure as hell not worth tearing yourself apart over.”

She pulled you closer, her arm wrapping around you protectively. “Whatever this place took from you, it doesn’t get to keep taking. Not while I’m here.”

You leaned into her, the warmth of her words wrapping around you as much as her presence. For a long moment, you just let her hold you, her steady breaths anchoring you.

When the tension in your body finally eased, you pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze. “Irene...” you began, hesitating. “Why haven’t you taken my last wish yet? You just disappeared...”

Her expression softened, but only for a fleeting moment before she crossed her arms and glanced to the side, her cheeks faintly pink. “I—I didn’t disappear. I was... busy. Important genie things, you wouldn’t understand.”

Your brow furrowed. “Important genie things?”

“Yes. Very important,” she shot back, her tone defensive. “Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of moping around all day.”

You tilted your head, a small, teasing smile forming despite yourself. “Irene, you’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

Her blush deepened as she snapped, “Avoiding you? Don’t flatter yourself! Why would I avoid someone like you?” She turned her nose up, but the crack in her voice betrayed her.

“Then why?” you pressed gently, your gaze steady on her.

Irene hesitated, her sharp facade faltering as her eyes darted away again. She muttered something under her breath, too quiet for you to catch.

“What was that?”

“I said…” She huffed, her arms tightening over her chest as her blush spread down to her neck. “I didn’t want you to use up the wishes, okay? Are you happy now?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You didn’t want me to use the wishes? But I thought you wanted to leave. To be done with humans. To be done with... me.”

Her eyes snapped back to yours, wide and flustered. “Wha—Why would you think that?! I never said that! Don’t just go putting words in my mouth, you idiot!”

Your grip on her forearm tightened, grounding her. “So you don’t want to leave?”

Irene froze, her lips pressing together before she let out a groan, dragging a hand through her hair. “Maybe—maybe it’s not so bad,” she admitted begrudgingly, her voice dropping to a mumble. “If it’s with you.”

The vulnerability in her tone caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help the small, teasing smile that tugged at your lips. “Of course. I’m your human, aren’t I?”

Irene’s eyes widened before her blush turned scarlet. She immediately buried her face in her hands with a muffled, “Oh my god, I can’t believe you heard that.”

“I did,” you said, unable to suppress a light chuckle.

“Don’t you dare read into it!” Irene snapped, lowering her hands just enough to glare at you. Her face was still bright red, her pout far more endearing than intimidating. “I am not some lovesick little puppy, got it? I’m still an all-powerful genie, and you—y-you’re just a ridiculous human who happens to need a lot of supervision, that’s all!”

“Whatever you say,” you replied, your tone soft as you leaned closer.

Her breath hitched as you reached out, cupping her face and pulling her in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“W-What—” Irene spluttered, pulling back with a glare that was more flustered than furious. “What do you think you’re doing?! You can’t just—you can’t just go kissing me like that without warning!”

You grinned. “I thought you were all-powerful. Shouldn’t you have seen it coming?”

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again as she struggled to find a retort. Finally, she turned away with an exaggerated huff, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Ridiculous,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “Completely ridiculous.”

“Not bad for a stupid human, aren’t I?” You tease, hugging Irene tightly

Irene rolled her eyes, but by now, she could do little to stave off the smile on her face. Seungwan would laugh at her, of that she had no doubt, but you were her stupid human now. And she didn’t mind it.

[slayfics]

You make Hawks a coffee.

900 words

Keigo watched from your balcony as you sauntered around your kitchen and living room. Tending to various tasks, while scrolling idly on your phone in between.

It occurred to him this was stalking but he couldn’t bring himself to knock and announce his presence yet. Even though he was on a short schedule he lingered a few more moments watching you.

It was captivating to see you in your house clothes, being a regular citizen. It was such a contrast to the hero you were to the public.

Feeling the moment was becoming too intimate he knocked on the glass, causing you to jump and turn your attention to the balcony.

Keigo threw his hand up in a wave, his signature “Heyo,” recognizable even through the glass that muted his voice.

You slide the baloney door open allowing Keigo to come inside. Before you could even ask, he was explaining his unexpected visit.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, I just need to pop in really quick to ask your help with something,” he announced.

You looked him over still startled and confused. He wasn’t in his hero costume, just a plain white shirt and comfy joggers.

“Yeah of course, what do you need?” You asked your surprise wearing off but interest peaking.

Keigo sat down on your couch as you eyed him expectantly.

“That villain we ran into yesterday, could you tell me what he looked like?” Keigo asked.

Your head tilted in curiosity, arms crossed, “Uh yeah, but you were there, you saw him too. Is everything ok?” You replied, wondering why Keigo would need your description of the villain.

“I know, I’m just trying to make sure I have all the accurate information. Still working to track them down, so anything helps.” He explained further, gold eyes locked onto yours.

“Sure,” you agreed looking over him again. This time you noticed how exhausted he looked. Dark circles formed under his eyes, and the whites of his eyes were plagued with redness. It was plain to see he had been straining himself. “Well, the villain was pretty average-looking. I’m not surprised you’re having trouble. They had black hair, brown eyes, and an average height of probably 171cm… Oh! But they did have a scar on their nose, it looked like it had been broken before,” you recalled.

Keigo flung his face into his hands, “Why didn’t I notice that,” he called out frustrated. Running his hands over his face. The redness in his eyes grew with exasperation.

“There was a lot going on in that encounter-,” you tried to rationalize with him, but he quickly cut you off.

“I’m fast enough to observe everything in a fight, I shouldn’t have missed that detail. I could have tracked him down by now if I was more alert.” He said sternly.

“Hawks, it hasn’t even been 24 hours since that happened.” You argued.

“That’s way too long. Who knows what damage they could have done by now. Who else they could have hurt. Alright, I’m off, thanks for the help.” He said standing up from the couch.

“Wait!” You called out before he could make it back to the balcony.

“Hm?” He hummed, turning around.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” You asked softly.

“Don’t be ridiculous I’m fine. No need to worry about me,” he said with his signature smile. But it didn’t shine the way it used to, and the stress he was under was all too apparent.

“Keigo, you need to rest.” You said more authoritatively, daring to use his first name even though he completely outranked you.

His smile vanished and his eyes squinted piercing through you, but he didn’t scold you. “I told you I’m fine.” He said dryly.

“You’re not fooling anyone. You’ve been taking on too much."

“Hey if I don’t who will. Besides, this is lightweight. Just for a few more things to finish up on and I’ll be done for the night,” he said dismissing your concern.

“You haven’t slept since that encounter yesterday, have you?” You questioned.

Keigo let out a sigh, “I’m sorry but I don’t have time for this,” he said sliding the balcony open.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard. I understand people need you, but that’s exactly why you have to take care of yourself. You can’t keep this pace up without collapsing soon,” you said following him out to the balcony, stretching out his wings and preparing to leave.

Keigo looked at the ground processing your words before speaking, “I know…,” he admitted quietly. “I promise I’ll rest after I get this villain alright? I can’t rest when there’s a job to do.”

You huffed unsatisfied with his answer, “Fine. I understand… but at least let me make you a coffee first? I can make it sweet.” You said trying to entice him.

Keigo smiled, “Alright fine. You make it hard to say no. But I got to take it to go, ok?”

“You got it, come sit down inside while I make it,” you suggested, walking back inside.

It wasn’t much, but you got Keigo to sit on the couch for a moment while you made him up a coffee in one of your tumblers. Deciding that getting the hero who moves too fast for his own good to relax for one moment was a win enough.

sinners: @unofficialsapphire @mintsbubbletea @starieqqq

[lady-ashfade]

Mha Characters; Waitress/Waiter Au!!

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo

WARNINGS: Waitress au, cute, I love this job but it sucks, smoking[Bakugo and you]

GENRA: Hcs/Concepts

Izuku Midoriya

He’s the type of co worker to be the helper if you need it, like working twice as hard along side of you. Not the half ass ones. Will sweep so hard and quickly- “Just trying to get us home as soon a possible.”

You honestly are jealous of his people skills, he smiles and it’s like money just appears in his pockets. He barely messes up, and some of the times he is even getting the plates off of the tables you are to busy to get.

“I can’t believe it’s so dead in here,” you whisper as you look around at the empty tables, only one table in the past hour.

“I enjoy it, gives us a break.” Izuku leans on the counter, sighing as he relaxes himself.

you stare at him. he is so pretty, uncanny how one person could be so perfect. You often find yourself messaging him, using random things for excuses to, and when you are paired together it makes the night so much easier.

You blink twice before looking away quickly to not get caught, clearing you throat before make sure everything is straightened and in place. “I didn’t know Superman needed a break.”

Izuku titled his head and opened his eyes, giving you a questionable look, “Superman?”

“You are unstoppable, Izuku. Honestly sometimes I swear you are too good at your job, makes the rest of us look like newbies.” you chuckle and grab the check for the table.

“So you think I’m charming?” He teases with a blush creep on his cheeks.

“Nauseously so,” you walk away with a giggle.

Katsuki Bakugo

You trained him, or at least partially. You have been there since a teen, and he joined when he entered college. He had no people skills, and even though he has grown he still gets prissy with costumers.

You still find yourself pushing him aside and talking to his table, then going up to him and yelling at him. But he makes it up with cleaning, like I mean he can carry so much and it’s so helpful.

Maybe you forget what comes on a meal, he will just walk by and say it, and walks back off. You write a order wrong? “Dumb ass, it doesn’t come with onions” since he knows the kitchen well, you are trying to get him to work back there.

“What the hell was that?” You shout as you push the door open, the cold air hitting you hard. Katsuki is leaning on the hard wall, a cigarette in his hand.

“She was a bitch, who yells at their waiter/ress for things you have no control over?” you groan at his words and glare at him.

“Katsuki, I can handle them. I’ve worked here a lot longer then you. Not only will you get in trouble later, i could also get in trouble. I appreciate you trying to help, but we can’t cuss at costumers.”

“I got it, don’t worry about getting in trouble. I will gladly get fired for cussing her out,”

You slap his shoulder, “I wouldn’t let you get fired, because I’ll miss you too bad.” You smile slightly up at him.

He chuckles deeply and rolls his eyes, “Yelling at me, then tell him you’ll miss me…You’re so confusing sometimes.”

you swipe the cigarette from his hands and take a drag of it, feeling the intoxication and burning, “Not exactly you, more like how much plates you can carry. My own personal bus boy.”

[bleaksqueak]

just wanted to say, as a fellow artist, THANK YOU for talking about shortcuts 🙏🙏 ive had baggage over not doing art """properly""" (re: the repetitive frustrating way just to prove i can), and im finally letting myself use tricks like warping and textured brushes and such, but i still feel weird sometimes. then i see a batshit amazing artist like you uses them, and i feel better. so thanks 😭 (and yes aye-eye is not included in this, mass theft isnt a shortcut)

The great thing about baggage is you can and absolutely should work up to just checking that crap in at the front desk and then conveniently forget to ever pick it back up~ Seriously though, it's no problem, and I'm glad to hear you're loosening up with it! If it helps, shortcuts are drilled into you if you work professionally in art. The only people who don't use shortcuts who work professionally are people who simply don't want to (be it stubbornly or out of enjoyment) and people who can afford to (names so big that deadlines will either be lenient or are dictated by the artist themself) The urgency to do everything the painstakingly hard way is, weirdly enough, a mindset most common in hobbyist spaces. People who want to do it that way (out of enjoyment, out of pride) are more than welcome to do it (as I'll sometimes just do slow crosshatching, no special brushes, because I find it relaxing)... but those who insist others do it or they aren't a real artist are often speaking from a position of bad faith, or are repeating what they had drilled into them by another hobbyist or their childhood/teen year art teachers, *or* are doing it to place themselves on a pedestal competitively. So, basically! Do things manually if you feel like it, but also know that there's hardly a "pro" out there that doesn't utilize a lot of fun little tricks and shortcuts. We still do it by our artistry, which is where the line is drawn with generated bullshit (also, you know, it's theft), but I guess a good way to look at it is like this: When you're drawing a piece of storytelling art or a comic page and the character has an elaborate costume with chains (my own character's lapel pins... we can look at Spawn, or a Nomura character and their department store of belts)...What's more important? The intricate detail of the chain, proving you can do it (again and again and again, since every angle would need to be drawn anew) Or the character acting, the composition, the atmosphere? It's the aspects that tell something about the character, the action, and the story that are always going to win out and matter, meaning that chain is just busy work-- a prime candidate for a quick swipe of a chain brush, or if you're me, this little friend:

So, yeah!! At the end of the day, the most important thing is to do what brings you joy or what meets your goal. I do love drawing clothes and I love details (love patterns and gold details especially)... but I also love finishing my work and shortcuts allow me to focus on the charcter acting and the atmosphere instead! Go forth and don't feel guilty. So long as you're not stealing from anyone and having fun, you're not doing anything wrong.

[trollprincess]

Hey, you. Come here.

Closer.

Cloooooseeeeer.

*rests hands on your shoulders*

It’s the holidays again, and the argument is going to start up about whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie. And I want to tell you, as someone whose mother ADORES Christmas, and who has seen every traditional Christmas movie seventy bajillion times over the last forty-seven years, that I would rather watch John McClane walk across broken glass to save his family for the holidays than see Ralphie in a pink bunny costume and Clark Griswold’s Christmas lights one more goddamn time. Give me Geena Davis flashing Samuel L. Jackson so she can rip off his bandage, give me a bunch of college girls being murdered one by one at Christmastime, give me the episode of “Tales from the Crypt” where Mary Ellen Trainor goes toe to toe with a serial killer in a Santa suit.

Give me ANYTHING that is not a traditional Christmas movie before I finally see Rudolph get used and abused by everyone around him ONE MORE TIME and I fucking SNAP.

I cannot DO this anymore. Let me have my nontraditional Christmas movies where shit blows up and terrorists get shot. I have strode through Santa’s workshop in a dozen different versions far too many times over the years, and I am TIRED.

[rmbunnie]

I'm reading A Lonely Place of Dying and Alfred latching immediately onto Tim is NASTY work. Tim shows up and is like "I never aimed to be Robin! I mean I did karate my whole life to emulate Robin and just so happen to have sought you out and grabbed this costume in my size out from that case and really you should be calling me Robin just for now and let me come with you as Robin but I never dreamed it would specifically be ME being Robin. You have a lovely house and home btw :) Now go back to being 10." And Dick's understandably like "No I am a grown man now who are you" and Bruce is not here for this one, but later on is like "You aren't Robin, you're some kid dressed up like my dead son." But Alfred?

IMMEDIATELY Alfred is implying Dick was trying to subtly ask Tim to be Robin (simply not true in in NTT 61, when the implication is made, although he changes his mind in Batman 442) and that Bruce should be grateful for this young man's profound bravery and immense natural skill and maybe show him a few pointers or something idk we'll see :) Like let's be clear, the idea that Tim didn't want to be Robin is simply not part of this story outside of like two lines of dialogue where he's like "oh I didn't consider it could be me!" after which he immediately goes "Wow so you ARE gonna let me be Robin right?" the second he sees the opportunity. The guy essentially makes himself Robin once Dick makes it clear he isn't gonna be. Dick tells Tim nobody should be at first (until he changes his mind) but is ignored because Tim doesn't get why and goes with what he understands, his own stance.

I'm of the opinion that the whole "Tim understands that being Robin is an arduous task full of suffering from the start and chooses to bravely yet sadly martyr himself for the cause" thing I see sometimes is strongly disproven, at least in the beginning of his Robin career, by his "Batman NEEDS a Robin (to love and care for and to watch out for him in return :) )" line of reasoning, his subsequent willingness for Anybody to be Robin whether or not it was him (unless he was consciously okay with other children suffering for his benefit which I find really hard to believe,) and his active glee at anything involving being Robin and persistent smiling pursuit of Doing So against Batman's strong disapproval, because he hasn't officially said no (he did several times, but you can't blame a kid for being excited.) Like, I think he said he never dreamed of being Robin just because having a kid come in begging to replace Batman's dead son because it was a personal aspiration would be extraordinarily rude and arrogant and they wanted people to like this one. He was NOT in any way adverse they just couldn't make him THAT presumptuous, and he is by nature of what he's doing already moderately so.

But say it was true, that Tim was actively opposed to being Robin? Alfred would be pushing this shit HARD onto this thirteen year old kid like what the fuck bro. And "From what Master Richard said, he follows your orders." is HEINOUS but let's not get into that.

[latenighttalkinqwp]

kk arnold x dancer!reader, maybe some smut too

kk arnold x dancer!gf

as they finished calling your entry number and the applause quieted down, the walk onto the stage felt like forever. your eyes darted across the room, looking for a specific pair to meet yours. the first few beats of your song began to play, and your mind immediately went quiet. this was your last time competing on stage before college, and you knew you couldn’t risk it. you have put every bit of your soul into perfecting this solo for this exact moment, and everyone in the room was able to tell. weather it was your technique being near to perfect, or the story being told with your body, the judges were loving it.

as you knee-dropped to the floor, you slowly looked up and met her eyes across the room. her smile was wide, and her phone was recording this moment for you. the emotion on kk’s face was evident, and it gave you the motivation to continue performing to the best of your ability. she has been with you training all these months, and she’s one of the few people who know how hard you have wanted this. being on the stage at nationals your senior year has been your forever dream— and now you’re finally here. “bum roll up…hold this leg. dear god hold this leg baby.” kk whispered, having every moment of your choreography memorized.

the angle of your body shifted, and your leg slowly began to come up into a développé for five counts. your toes were pointed, and your back slowly began to arch as you fell into a back-walkover. the audience cheered, as you began to walk off stage. your eyes were watering, and your team ran to hug you as the audience was standing to applaud you. “that was so beautiful.” your teacher whispered in your ear, hugging you tightly. you muttered a quiet thank you, just trying to get out from backstage. as the next number was called, you were finally able to break away and start looking for your person. kk was doing the same thing, looking around the convention center looking for your navy blue costume.

“kk!” you waved, speeding up your walk as you noticed her in the distance. she smiled, pushing past a few other dancers to finally pull you into a tight embrace. “you did so amazing baby.” she immediately said, wrapping her arms around your waist. you could feel your cheeks heat up, her compliments still having that affect on you. “thank you.” you mumbled, pulling back from her embrace slowly. you began to look around for a more quiet place, the constant flow of people overwhelming you. “i found a place we could go when i was walking over here, cmon.” she said, knowing what you needed. her arm wrapped around your waist, as she led you to an empty meeting room that the convention center had left open. you immediately sat on one of the couches, pulling kk down with you. she laughed, handing you a bottle of water she had bought for you earlier.

“i’m so proud of you.” she leaned in, pressing a small kiss to your red lips. you pouted, “what kind of kiss was that?” you said. “i didn’t want to mess up your stage makeup.” you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for a deep kiss. kk’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into her lap. your emotions were still going haywire, the adrenaline from performing still surging through you. “you looked so good up there.” kk mumbled, pulling away to start leaving kissed down your neck. you let out a quiet moan, throwing your head back. her hands ran up and down your open back, and your body covered in chills. “kamorea..” your eyes flutter shut, as your body begins to melt into hers. “what is it baby?” she pulls you back in for a kiss, her hands wrapping your waist firmly. “mm..need you.” you say against her lips, still kissing her intensely.

“are you sure? so many people could hear us..” she leans up to whisper in your ear, then kisses down to the nape of your neck. “fuck- yes kk. please” before you could even finish your sentence, she had begun pulling your costume off, and leaving kisses down your your bare chest. your breathing picked up, as you pulled her shirt off quickly. she began to pull the rest of your costume off, and pulling down your tights gently so they didn’t rip. “you looked so good up there baby-“ she rubbed her hand up to the inside of your thigh, feeling the heat coming from your core. your hands come out to hold the back of the couch, as kk slowly begins to take off your underwear. it all happens fast after that- her slim fingers sliding into your core, while her thumb rubs circles on your clit. “fuck- oh my god.” you moan, biting down on your bottom lip. “you feel so good baby- so wet f’me” she rasps out, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a fast pace.

you can feel the knot in your stomach forming, and your hips begin to grind against her hand. “i’m so close- kk. oh my god.” your hand comes up to your breast, as you throw your head back. “that’s it baby, come for me” her fingers slow down for a moment, as you slowly come down from the high. kk slides her fingers out slowly, pulling them up to her mouth. your slick had covered her pants and nearly her entire hand- but that clearly didn’t bother her as she licked off her fingers. “you did so good baby.” she kisses your cheek, trying to find something to help clean you off. your chest is still heaving as you are trying to catch your breath, and your mascara is definitely running. “i can’t believe we just fucked at a dance competition- kamorea!” you giggled, pulling her back down and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “what? don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” she laughs, helping you put your costume back on.

“you’re lucky i love you.” you both laugh, trying to make each other look presentable again.

- thank you so much for reading all the way through!

- guys this has been in the drafts for a hot minute… but lmk if this is good pls ( im not much of a smut writer so be kind 😣 )

[d-lanx]

[gazkamurocho]

Happy Halloween from our favorite Yakuza family! 🎃👻

[kinokoshoujoart]

the coolest kids in forgotten valley!!☆

(…it seems there may have been a stretch of time where rock and lumina were the only kids in forgotten valley…🥲)

poseref

[anna-scribbles]

h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

[lesbianphan]

anyone up and wanting to cry about Dan Howell and how much he's changed over the years or is that just me

[c00kiesart]

((OUTDATED DESIGN))

After months and MONTHS of coming up with stories upon stories with my bestie @needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves

I think it is finally time I start to introduce my MHA oc’s! Alongside some other arts I have stored!

Starting off with an obvious self insert-

[puppyeared]