#leaving it here for someone else to continue

[checkeredflagggs]

Money Bags

pairing: sugar relationship!charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: everyone is pretty sure charles has a sugar baby girlfriend — why else would she be posting so many photos of gifts?

a/n: the start of my week of romance! This was requested by a lovely anon and I hope you like it!

a/n2: I don’t know any actual shops or restaurants in Monaco so generic names it is! Please pretend it’s those exclusive places for the rich and famous. I also don’t know what type of Ferrari it is 🤷🏻‍♀️

Masterlist | Taglist

Bluesky

user1: …so it’s definitely charles and his girlfriend right?

↳user2: honestly they might as well as posted their faces

↳user1: Right? Like it’s so obvious

user3: you know you can just write their names? It’s definitely leclerc and his new girl

↳user4: it’s hilarious to me that they think it’s a secret?

↳user3: seriously! It’s been nonstop photos of gifts and trips and fancy dinners since they got together

user5: you mean charles and his gold digger?

↳user6: usually I wouldn’t promote that kind of language but in this case…

↳user7: I agree — she’s gonna drain him dry and move on to someone else to do the same

user8: don’t be coy deuxmoi — just say its the gold digger and charles leclerc…

↳user9: 😂😂

cl_gossip

liked by user, user, user and 982,349 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

cl_gossip: shocking absolutely no one — this Valentine’s Day is going to be a bank-braker. This massive bouquet was seen heading into Leclerc’s apartment building

view all comments

user10: 😂😂😂 god just keep roasting her

user11: honestly how long does she think it’ll last when she blows his money so fast??

user12: … 😱 …🙄🙄🙄

user13: what a slut honestly.

user14: my money is she moves on to max next…

↳user15: oh same

↳user16: ohh that would be an ideal threesome…

↳user15: seriously?

↳user16: am I wrong?

↳user14: …no I guess not

user17: tagging them though…

↳user18: right? I could never…

↳user17: I hesitate to even comment sometimes and they’re just out here tagging them on a post that’s dragging his girl…

↳cl_gossip: sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do

cl_gossip

liked by user, user, user and 992,184 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

cl_gossip: continuing with the apparent theme of the day — Charles and y/n were seen Bijouterie Jewelry Store, which is one of the most exclusive jewelry stores in the continent

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user20: wow…a new way to spend Charles’ money

↳user21: Jesus leave them alone

↳user20: we’re just calling it like we see it

↳user21: you’re just being a bitch

user22: oh to have a boyfriend like Charles to spoil you…

↳user23: right? Ignoring everything above — she’s got the jackpot. He’s so attractive, kind, seemingly caring, and rich?

↳user22: I’m so jealous

user24: man I’ve always wanted to go to Bijouterie Jewelry Store…

↳user25: same! I’ve seen pictures but I just know the aura of the place is unmatched

user26: leave the drivers and their personal lives alone challenge FAILED

↳user27: oh thank god I’m not the only one to think that

↳user26: they’re famous yes but we don’t need to know everything about their personal lives — and they have the right to privacy!

cl_gossip has posted a story, yourusername has posted 2 stories

[I don’t even know where to begin with this one…that is a mega yacht —not one of Charles’…][ today is only the best ♥️ | what a lovely lunch with charles_leclerc ♥️♥️♥️]

user28 replied GOLDDIGGER!

user29 replied god leave them alone

user30 replied what a bitchy move

user31 replied Charles please RUN

charles_leclerc replied Mon soleil, aujourd'hui a déjà été le plus beau jour de ma vie...My sunshine, today has already been the best day of my life...

↳yourusername Attendez, car ce n'est pas encore fini! Just you wait then because it's not over yet!

↳charles_leclerc mon soleil…my sunshine

↳yourusername 🥰🥰🥰

francisca.cgomes replied you guys are setting the bar absurdly high…

↳yourusername of course 🥰

↳yourusername but just say the word and we can run away baby

↳francisca.cgomes 🤯🤯🤯

pierregasly replied stop trying to steal my girlfriend

↳yourusername never

↳pierregasly 🙄😑

user32 replied jealousy activated oh my god…

user33 replied i want your life…

user34 replied please post some more photos of Charles queen!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly, and 2,923,91: others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: a new car and still a passenger princess 👑

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charles_leclerc: Je ne le ferais pas autrement, mon soleil. I wouldn’t have it any other way, my sunshine

↳yourusername: 😍😍😍

user36: RUN CHARLES

this comment has been deleted

user37: a whore and a gold digger…

this comment has been deleted

lilymhe: the prettiest passenger princess ever

↳yourusername: no that’s you!

↳alex_albon: why must you always flirt with our girlfriends?

↳pierregasly: i know

↳francisca.cgomes: 😘

↳yourusername: stop having such babes for girlfriends then? liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes

↳alex_albon: 🙄🙄

user38: he bought her a BRAND NEW FERRARI???

↳user39: I’ve never been so jealous of a bitch in my life

user40: ok but is anyone gonna say anything about the FUCKING HUGE ASS pile of gifts?

↳user41: I KNOW! Like damn…

↳yourusername: spoiling is the name of the game girlies…

↳user40: are you guys looking for a third? A maid? A dog? liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 3,128,183 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: a last minute trip with my baby…

view all comments

charles_leclerc: ♥️♥️♥️

↳yourusername: my love 🥰

user42: leo!

↳user43: always a good day with a leo leclerc picture liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc

oscarpiastri: have a good trip dad!

↳charles_leclerc: thank you son!

↳yourusername: …yeah no. Thanks though osc! liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri

maxverstappen1: Air Max is still better

↳yourusername: stop being jealous!

↳maxverstappen1: 😑

↳charles_leclerc: mon soleil…

user49: god imagine being so entitled that you demand an expensive trip…

↳yourusername: lol

↳charles_leclerc: 😂

↳user50: ok but what does this mean…

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly, and 2,723,183 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: Mon soleil, tu as mon cœur et mon âme depuis le jour où je t'ai vu pour la première fois. Je t'aime infiniment, avec ferveur, vraiment. Votre beauté, votre gentillesse, votre générosité sont exceptionnelles. Merci pour cette journée si merveilleuse aujourd'hui. Je n'aurais jamais cru qu'être gâté était si agréable.

My sunshine, you have my heart and soul and have since the day i first saw you. I love you endlessly, fervently, truly. Your beauty, your kindness, your generosity is outstanding. Thank you for such a wonderful day today. I never knew that being spoiled felt so good.

(Also stay mad and stay jealous but mon soleil is not the sugar baby in this relationship ☺️)

comments have been restricted on this post

yourusername: Charles my love…

yourusername: you cannot imagine how happy you make me everyday

yourusername: meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me

↳charles_leclerc: Mon soleil…🥹🥰♥️

yourusername: oh and to those judging us? Definitely stay mad and jealous

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @voidvannie @sturmatt @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478

[genjyoandgojyoandhakkai]

Answers under the cut!

I'd already started thinking about most of this because I want to continue Rook's story past the Veilguard ending. If you are interested to read a one-shot that goes a little into Xiqaa's backstory (tattoos and origin), you can find that here.

I haven't even STARTED on Xi and Emmrich yet but I certainly will. 💚⚡Hints are all throughout Despite Everything.

I'm not using Rook's name a lot in my Rookanis story, to leave room for everyone else to make their own Rook the LI, but I use it liberally below. It's pronounced "Zika" or "Shika" depending on your accent and Xi is pronounced Z by Rook herself.

Xiqaa Rook Laidir

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them?

🌻36. She was born a galley slave so she knows her birth year but doesn't care about birthdays. That miiight change if her friends decide to surprise her with gifts or a party - she is learning new things about herself all the time. She got her first piece of leather armor from Fia, someone she was with for a while after she escaped slavery. It wasn't given to her on her birthday, but that was the day she started commemorating her new life, and it is what she considers her birthday.

🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred?

🪻Xiqaa got her lightning from touching an ancient artifact she shouldn't have. (You know, like Rook do.) It was the most painful thing to happen because she injured herself over and over before she learned to control it. She's got lightning scars all over her body, but she's proud of them because she learned a survival lesson and they look bad ass and scary.

🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

🌹Rook and Lucanis don't really fight, and that's problematic. Both of them tend to internalize the problem as something they did wrong. This does come to a head once in a while, and I haven't worked far enough into their future to see what their first real fight would be. It is pretty far out there, when the two of them have no one else to run interference between their stupid misunderstandings/assumptions and lack of ability to articulate feelings. They obviously haven't resolved this yet, but it's a process, as long as they come back to each other.

🌹Rook and Emmrich fight over his fear of death (kinda); she doesn't believe in letting your fears win, and giving away your fate so easily. She is stubborn about this to a fault. Emmrich is much more open with thoughts and feelings than Lucanis, so there's potential for them to clash over more clearly stated feelings and preferences, but Emmrich is also better at mending situations so it's rare they go to bed angry with the other. They are still working on things. Rook promised not to judge Emmrich so harshly, and Emmrich promised to try and live in the moment more. (Heaven only knows what Lucanis and Emmrich will fight about...I'm really not to that point with them yet.)

🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard?

🌸 As a former slave, mercenary, and rebellion fighter, she is used to dropping in and out of situations - that's why she trusts and is trusted so quickly, but she didn't allow anyone to get too close. Her closest friend from her early years was a slave named Chek, and when they got to the benches, he showed her how to survive differently. From him, she learned that their masters kept them fighting against each other to prevent them planning rebellions. From Chek she learned to share, to work on a team, and to open up to another person. He escaped before she did, and she found out later he was recaptured. His status is unknown. She's been on her own for a long time, and Varric was the older brother/mentor figure she needed, after Isabela, who showed her that you can let your guard down once in a while. We all know where Varric was during Veilguard.

🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold?

🌾 Rook's demon would probably be Pride. She's proud of her ability to survive on her own, and the temptation to never have to ask for help again would be strong. Breaking their hold would require someone else to show her how strength doesn't equate to solitude. Her friends drag her back from that brink all the time, without demons involved.

🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

🌱 Rook's first relationship as a free person was Fia, a mage living on Seheron. Fia was bold and swaggering, a fire mage fighting qunari twice her size. Xi was drawn to Fia, wanting to be someone (and be with someone) who looked tough and talked tough, and they had a few flings here and there. It was chaotic; lots of drinking and fighting and fucking. Rook discovered she didn't actually enjoy being with someone who wanted to fight at the drop of a hat, so they just kinda grew apart. It was definitely a situationship of convenience, and Xiqaa left Seheron for Rivain soon after.

🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say?

🌼Sea salt and sunshine. For those of us with physical senses, it would be a hot spring afternoon when the plants are blooming; the earthy scent of green things with an indistinct floral background, and a tang of salt like sudden tears.

🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse?

🌷Rook would go to the old Warden fortress on the Rivaini coast to get away from her responsibilities and just watch the world. (She's not really the type to just get away from it all; when she needs to get away she just finds something else from her long list to do.) She has an affinity for open spaces and clear sightlines, and she loves the sound of the ocean. Her safe space, though, is her apartment in the Hall of Lords. She's never had a home before, and she loves having a space of her own. The floor is made of old deck planks and it's her favorite thing about the apartment.

🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison?

🥀Xiqaa's galley benchmate, Chek, would definitely appear in the regret prison. He was a kind person, and he taught her how to survive differently; less fighting amongst those who were already prisoners, more generosity of heart. He escaped a year before she did, and she always regretted not going with him - she loved him like a brother. Later she found out he'd been recaptured and sent to a magister who used his life force to power their spells, and Xi has always wondered if she could have gone back for him.

🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater)

🪷 Rook doesn't have any phobias that she knows of. Her flaw in this regard is that she believes facing your fears makes you stronger, so she's likely to work herself into a terrible state if she discovered a phobia. There's still time to find one, though.

🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments?

🍀 Rook's life is made of near-death experiences. Mostly she would just close her eyes for a second and think "Well, shit. At least it's on my own terms." The first time living and not just dying free mattered to her, though, was after she found the Veilguard. Fighting for her friends became more than fighting for a cause. She truly hoped to see the next sunrise and discover more life everyday. Since she fell for Lucanis, her fear of dying without telling him how special he is to her is foremost. Also top on that list would be never having her romance with Emmrich bloom into what she envisions they could have.

💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like?

💐Rook and Isabela have an easy relationship for the most part. Rook prefers the raunchy jokes and tough talk that Isabela uses, so it was easy to make that their shared language. They also share a similar devotion to wealth, doing the right thing, and a disdain for political figureheads. When a well-connected noble double-crossed Rook on their attempt to take an artifact for the Venatori, Isabela wasn't surprised at all. She also wasn't surprised that Rook wasn't sorry for killing the Venatori scum, so temporary exile was pretty much the only solution. Isabela told Rook that she went through something similar (an exile of sorts) in her past, and maybe someday they'd share stories over drinks. Rook was annoyed that politics were stronger than her new allegiances but she just shrugged it off and threw herself into the next job. That upset Isabela more than she let on, so they had some frosty moments when reuniting.

🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food)

🌺 It's more like a compensation for not having one, but Rook just likes food. The fancier and more expensive the better. It's not a childhood memory, but a response to not having much when she was younger, and food is comforting as well as an experience with culture.

🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish?

🌿Rook has a ton of tattoos, but no vallaslin. She's elvish, and grew up hearing the legends and songs in whispers at night, but she's not Dalish. For her, tattoos they are a way to tell her life story and to choose how she appears to others. She got her first one, a pair of wings, on her shoulder after she escaped from the galleys. It was exciting to her, to have control over her entire body and even the pain meant freedom. She added a rook piece between her breasts after becoming Varric's second in command...it distracts Lucanis and Spite to no end 🤣

🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

🍂 Rook's first time killing someone was when she was around twelve years old. Slaves were chosen for the benches based on physical characteristics, but the smaller ones were given a chance to fight their way in. Those not selected would be sold to other houses, usually industrial work like tanning or slaughterhouses. The galley bench meant you had three meals a day and a full shift of sleep, which was an almost-human experience for a slave. A wiry kid thought he could take Xiqaa because she was slender, and he fought with all his strength and cleverness to take her life. She didn't want to kill him, but that was her only choice if she wanted to have any existence that wasn't drudgery, so she did it. She felt anger at him, more than anything else, because she was forced into taking his life. It made her sick, but she wasn't one to give up, even then.

Woe! Rook ask game be upon ye!

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them? 🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred? 🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved? 🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard? 🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold? 🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end? 🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say? 🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse? 🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison? 🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater) 🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments? 💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like? 🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food) 🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish? 🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

[jiminomenon]

what is jimin’s reaction to assistant yn threatening to quit?

from my series: the devil wears prada

the penthouse was silent—eerily so, considering the shouting match that had just taken place. the air between them was thick, charged with lingering frustration and unspoken words. jimin stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, expression locked in a stubborn scowl. y/n was a few feet away, breathing heavily, fists clenched at her sides.

neither of them had meant for it to escalate like this. it started with something minor—an argument over jimin’s impossible demands, her bratty attitude, the way she acted like y/n was hers to boss around twenty-four-seven. but then, words were thrown like knives, sharp and cutting.

and then y/n snapped.

“maybe i should just quit, then!”

the words ripped through the space between them. jimin stiffened instantly, her brows drawing together.

“what?” her voice was dangerously quiet.

y/n exhaled sharply, still fueled by frustration. “if you’re just gonna keep treating me like this, maybe i should just leave, huh? find another job where i’m actually respected.”

jimin scoffed, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “you wouldn’t dare.”

“why not?” y/n challenged, eyes blazing. “give me one good reason why i shouldn’t.”

jimin opened her mouth, but for once in her life, she had no comeback. no smug remarks, no bratty retorts. because the idea of y/n actually leaving—actually walking away—felt like a punch to the gut.

her jaw tightened. “you’re being dramatic.”

y/n let out a bitter laugh. “of course you’d say that.”

jimin hated this. hated the way y/n looked at her right now—like she was tired of her, like she was done.

“you’re not quitting,” jimin said firmly, like it was a fact, like she refused to acknowledge the possibility.

“and why not?”

“because—” jimin’s voice faltered. she wanted to say because i need you—because she couldn’t imagine her life without y/n constantly by her side, keeping her in check, understanding her in ways no one else did.

but that wasn’t how she worked. she didn’t admit things like that. she didn’t let people know how much they mattered.

“because i said so,” she settled on instead.

y/n’s expression darkened. “you don’t own me, jimin.”

“i never said i did.”

“but you act like it!”

the silence that followed was suffocating.

jimin hated the thought of y/n leaving, but she also hated feeling like this—out of control, vulnerable, on the verge of losing something she refused to name.

so she did what she did best.

she walked away.

but before she could fully disappear into her bedroom, y/n’s voice cut through the air.

“you don’t even care, do you?”

jimin froze.

“if i left, it wouldn’t even matter to you, right?” y/n’s voice was quieter now, but still laced with hurt. “you’d just find someone else to boss around.”

something snapped inside jimin. she turned around, storming back toward y/n, eyes burning with something unreadable.

“it would matter,” she said, voice low. “it would matter a lot.”

y/n blinked.

jimin exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair, frustrated—at y/n, at herself, at the entire situation.

“you think i don’t care?” jimin continued, tone softer now but still firm. “you think i’d just let you go that easily?”

y/n didn’t respond.

jimin sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i’m sorry, alright?”

y/n’s brows shot up. “what?”

jimin groaned. “don’t make me say it again.”

y/n stared at her, searching for any sign of insincerity—but, for once, jimin actually meant it.

a small smirk tugged at y/n’s lips. “wow. never thought i’d hear those words come out of your mouth.”

jimin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “don’t get used to it.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. her frustration wasn’t completely gone, but… jimin had apologized. and for someone as stubborn as her, that was a huge deal.

“you’re impossible,” y/n muttered.

jimin smirked. “and yet, here you are. still not quitting.”

y/n sighed dramatically. “unfortunately.”

but there was a warmth in her eyes now, and jimin—though she’d never say it out loud—felt like she could finally breathe again.

[musemeadow]

pic;

what inevitable change awaits you?

please choose what pulls you in and remember, nothing in life is permanent. trust in yourself and your judgement before all else ౨ৎ

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂☆

pile 1;

on the surface, everything may seem to continue as normal, but deep down, you’ll know it isn’t the same at all. someone in your circle is worried about the path you’re moving towards–for better or for worse. there is no maliciousness in their concern. still, if you continue, this relationship will surely fall. as it falls, you will come to a grand realization about yourself and your path moving forward. it is up to you to decide between the comfort of this relationship, or your growth as an individual. here, there are no incorrect answers, only choices.

# natural change. belonging, lucid dreams, water, childhood toys

song; love, my world is full - rio ┆ colors; bistre, terracotta, baby pink

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂☆

pile 2;

you are stuck in limbo–a state neither here nor there. the feeling won’t go away as long as you keep doing what you’re told. once in a while, there might be a voice calling to you from beyond the horizon and it’s longing for a response. listen to it, if you wish, but stay cautious. they only want what's best for you, but at the end of the day, they too want your agency for themselves. you won’t find what you’re looking for externally. looking inwards, there are things in your life that feel completely unsolvable. it’ll take years to ultimately find it in your heart to leave limbo for good. rest assured, it’ll be worth it. there will be more voices like the others. which are worth listening to depends on your will.

# personal change. identity, lukewarm yet flavorful tea, air, mammatus clouds.

song; ww - other nothing ┆ colors; cream, linen, grey.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂☆

pile 3;

change isn’t something you’d pursue naturally. you’re content with the routine you’ve set for yourself, the people you know, and the life that you lead. change will not happen to you–it will happen around you. as time passes, your relationships may not be as tight knit as they might have been. it’ll fare well to keep an eye on this delicate balance of closeness or run the risk of feeling more disconnected than ever before. your favorite people notice your distance and it upsets them. don’t worry, they will take good care of your fragile heart, as long as you let them.

#  passage of time. sincerity, out of tune piano, earth, cracked sidewalks

song; grown up - leith ross ┆ colors; claret, sepia, honey

[mamawasatesttube]

6 or 17 for TimKon? :)

6. "Don't move, you're still hurt." 17. "Can you hear me?"

Consciousness slams into Tim like a breaking wave. It knocks the breath from his lungs and leaves him spluttering, gasping for breath—an instant mistake, because painpainpain explodes in his chest so hard he nearly passes out again.

"Whoa, Rob, chill out! Don't you dare move. You're still hurt!"

Kon, Tim thinks woozily, trying his hardest to blink the stars from his vision. He can't breathe from the agony. But he... he needs to protect Kon. A vague sense of impending doom floats through his mind, something green, something...

A tower. Why is he thinking of a tower? And blood. So much blood.

He has to protect Kon—

He can't move. He tries to sit up again and he can't move. A gentle but immovable pressure surrounds his whole body, keeping him in place, and he can't move. Panic floods him. He needs to protect Kon and he can't move and—

"Dammit, Rob, I said keep still! Can you hear me?"

...Oh. For the first time, Tim realizes that there's a reason that "blinking the stars out of his vision" didn't work. He never actually opened his eyes.

With effort, he forces his eyelids up, squinting against the dust in the air. He coughs. Pain lances through his chest.

Kon swears under his breath. He's—he's here? He's not hurt? He's... crouching in the rubble, bodily shielding Tim, and... and he's okay. He isn't bleeding, his body is whole and not twisted and broken and bloodied, and... and...

Emotion wells up in Tim's chest, underneath all the pain. He clears his throat and rasps, "Kon?"

"Hey, hot stuff." Kon flashes him a quick smile. "Hold still. You've got four broken ribs. Maybe a concussion too. Hard to say this soon, but..."

Oh. That would explain why breathing hurts. Tim squints up at Kon, then around him, trying to figure out where everyone else went. Weren't they fighting some... guy? Guys? Some Intergang guys... Right, and they were armed with Apokoliptian, um... thingies. And...

Now Tim remembers the reason for "green". Someone had a Kryptonite-tipped rifle round. Musta paid a fortune to Luthor to get that, or else they were doing the bastard a favor. Ugh...

"Your spine isn't damaged, thankfully," Kon continues. He tilts his head and narrows his eyes off into the distance, listening to something Tim can't hear, watching something Tim can't watch, and then looks back down to Tim. "Okay. Coast is clear. I'm gonna get you to the hospital."

Hospital? Eh. Everyone knows broken ribs just need a few weeks of rest. Tim grunts. "Hn. 'M fine."

Kon gives him the flattest look known to mankind. "You need a CT scan to check if you have a concussion. Also, need I remind you, four broken ribs?"

He exhales shortly, raking a hand through his hair; he only does that when he's stressed. He rests his hand on Tim's hip, and suddenly they're both floating into the air. It's odd, because Tim is still laid out flat and can't actually move, but he's used to Kon by now.

Still, though. "S'only flesh wounds." He just needs to sleep it all off. It's fine. They can watch Monty Python while he rests.

Kon, though, doesn't seem to appreciate the humor. The sky is a brilliant blue around him; the wind whips his ponytail around his face. He looks unimpressed. "Tim, your suit might be made of kevlar 'n' stuff, but it's not made to stop rifle rounds! Seriously, what were you thinking?"

Tim frowns. Isn't it obvious what he was thinking? "Had to protect you."

Kon stares at him for a long moment, flying effortlessly towards Metropolis General Hospital without even having to look. Several emotions flicker through his eyes too fast for Tim's dazed mind to follow, until finally he sighs, rakes his free hand through his hair again, and mutters, "What am I gonna do with you?"

That's another question with an obvious answer. Tim grunts again. "Mmph. Cherish and love me forever. Duh."

This time, he wins—Kon smiles despite himself, shaking his head as he starts descending towards the hospital rooftop. "Yeah, okay," he says, and leans down to brush his lips to Tim's dusty cheek. "Guess I'm okay with that."

Tim smiles.

[starzify]

ready — sam winchester

pairing stanford!sam winchester x fem!reader

warnings smut | handjob | sam is inexperienced | dom/sub undertones

SPN MASTERLIST

Sam had been your tutor for months, patiently guiding you through your college coursework. In return, you started tutoring him in something he’d never had the chance to learn—something he’d barely even let himself think about.

It started as a joke, a passing tease about his inexperience, but the way he fumbled for a response—how his ears burned red, how he couldn’t meet your eyes—told you the truth. Sam Winchester, all six-foot-something of him, had never been touched. Never felt a hand trace his skin with intent. Never been taught how to lose himself in someone else’s warmth.

And maybe, just maybe, you were going to be the one to change that.

You look at the time and notice that you only have a couple of minutes before he arrives so you decided to take a quick shower.

In the middle of turning off the water, the sound of a knock hit your ears. You grabbed the white towel and dried your body, quickly moisturizing your skin before hurrying to the door.

Leaving your hair wet, you went to open the door. Standing tall at the door frame was Sam Winchester, a bag over his shoulder and your laptop safely in his grasp.

He finally met your eyes and realized that you were only in a towel as he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were busy.”

"Come in, just give me a few seconds to change.” You let him in, allowing him to sit on your bed.

You quickly grabbed some pyjamas and shut the bathroom door, dropping the towel to the floor to change.

When you exited the bathroom, you threw the towel in the hamper beside the door. You found him looking over to the stack of books you’ve chosen for him to read.

"I realized that reading is more of your thing, so I found some really good books I've already read for you to read. Why watch porn when you can just read it?" You go over and pick two steamy ones out and hand them to him.

He turned the book to read the description in the back, when his eyes slightly widened, you knew that you picked out the perfect books.

"Here, I read one and you read the other. Alright?" You took one of the books from his hand, leaving him with your favourite one.

"I think you'd like this one more" You sat on the chair near your desk, opening opening book.

You would often peek up at him to see him turn a page and Sam’s eyes never left the pages once. A cherry-like blush crept its way to his face and his lips opened a little bit before closing it, finally noticing that his mouth was open.

You let him continue reading for another thirty minutes, but you hadn't read a single word since you opened the book. You were too busy watching his innocent eyes read such dirty words.

You shut my book, moving in front of him. You used your index finger to lift his chin and admire his flushed face.

"It's a little hot in here, let me help"

You unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt, showing the silver chain around his neck "Better?"

He sat up a little bit more with a nod, fixing his posture and that's when you slowly glanced down at the hard-on in his slacks.

"My favorite part of the book is.." You run your hand up to his thigh, barely touching the side of his groin.

"When she slowly undresses herself and doesn't let him touch only watch as she touches herself and moans his name" You play with the collar of his shirt before going back to place your hand on his thigh.

"Or when she doesn't touch him until he begs her too" His hands fall to his sides.

"Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you, Sam? I need you to use your words or I won't know what you want" He gulps, biting his lower lip as your hand only slowly creeps its way close to his covered dick before moving away back to his thigh.

"Y/N…please.. can you touch me?" You almost moan just by the desperation in his voice as you begin to unbuckle his belt, running your hand over his bulge before taking him out of his slacks.

You sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of his cock. He was big. So fucking big and perfect. "I-Is this alright?" You switched your eyes to him, almost like he wanted to hide himself away because you had been staring for far too long. 

"It's perfect, so damn perfect" Sam relaxed a little bit but that didn't stop him from blushing harder.

"I wonder, would you like it if I ran my tongue along here?" You use your index finger to run up the base of his dick, letting his mouth fall open with a nod.

"Or if I were to take you all the way down my throat?" You squeeze the head of his dick, making him release a moan that could make anyone wet.

He followed your gaze when your got down on my knees, the strap of your flimsy shirt sliding down your shoulder which caused him to take a peek at your boobs. You pushed out your breasts even more, causing his entire face to go red.

"Do you fantasize about them? How soft they would feel in your hand, massaging them? Or having them wrapped around your dick while I look at you with such innocent eyes until you cum?" You softly asked, stroking him with an occasional twist of your hand.

“Or how good they'd look in your mouth?" You wanted... no. You needed to touch yourself but this was about him.

"Oh my.." You watched his chest heave up and down, your nipples pushed against the fabric of your thin shirt.

"I bet you would love to feel my lips around you, sucking and letting my tongue tease over your tip. The feeling of coming over my tits or deep down my throat, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you, love?" He quickly nods his head and you don't think he's realized he's admitted to it.

“You're so hard, Sam. You’re doing so good for me right now.” his hips bucked up, his muscles bulging in his shirt which allowed you to make a mental note that he likes to be praised.

“Y/N... I'm— I-I.. oh please keep going" His words became a complete mess as he grew closer, throbbing in your hand.

"Cum for me, Sam. Let me make you feel good." You sped up the pace of your hand, making sure to run my thumb over the tip before using his pre-cum as lubricant to squeeze the base of him.

Sam bit down on his lip but you tapped on his thigh to make him stop his actions. "I want to hear you, baby." he never looked away. Even when you thought he would, he didn't.

With each twist of your hand, you knew only one thing would set him off completely. Almost as if he knew something was coming, your eyes shined with a devious glint.

You placed a peck to the tip of him which set him off, making him bundle your bedsheets with a grip that made his veins nearly pop. You placed another one on the base of his dick, the second kiss making him lean his head back on his shoulders and his thighs tense on both sides of you.

You were pressing your thighs together painfully to where your knees dug into the wooden floor, watching him unravel in your hand.

The pain was worth the sight.

His shaggy bangs were now slightly wet due to sweat, sticking to his forehead. The v-neck of his shirt further showed a few sweat droplets running down his chest that you so wanted to see.

When he finally calmed down, he stayed silent. You got up from the floor and wiped your hand with napkin and disposed of it in the trash can before going over to him and leaning towards his ear.

"Maybe next time, I'll let you fuck my mouth" You pressed your lips a little below his ear, feeling his hands clutch the sheets again.

“I-I can't handle it when you say things like that" he admitted as you fixed his shirt for him.

"Why do you think I say them?" Your faces were close. One more inch closer and your lips would have touched.

"Because I know how hard it makes you" You let him fix himself and his pants. You pick up the books that had fallen to the floor.

"Take them with you" you give him both books. "I can't help but notice that you've taken a liking to read dirty literature" He places the books in his bag.

You walk over to the door to open it for him before stopping and peering up at him.

"Think of me when you try to study." You step up to his height a little bit and kiss his cheek.

tags: @ultravi0lence14 @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @deanangel @beausling @deanswidow @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @florchids @sunsbaby @sunsettsam @deansbeer @soldiersgirl @h8aaz

cassie chats: YUMMY IN MY TUMMY

[simpingforbots]

hiiii i hope you're fine,I'm really intrigued to know what the tfone transformers think about their silly human being in the sun for a few hours and getting burned, like.

The human is on his robot's shoulder, but from one moment to the next he turns his head to see the little friend and they see that his color has changed a little.

personally because I burned a lot this summer.

(I'm sorry if something is written wrong, English is my second language, I love how you write)

Hello! I am doing alright, hope you are doing fine your self. I knwo the feeling as i burn quickly as well and i know how it is to deal with it.

Sun or no sun?

Leaving underground is not much of a trouble to creatures that made out of metal as they do not require sunlight to function, but something that is organic - it was one of a few necessities just to be able to function properly. First time Orion found out about it, he panicked and kept thinking that he was hurting you by keeping here, with him. It was already dangerous for you to be in mines, let alone surrounded by someone who’s bigger and harder then you. Hell, he even considered to give you up to some reach snob so that you be safer, but the idea of you being in hands of someone like them made his spark churn with disgust and D-16 quickly shut it down, not wanting to even hear Orion’s worries. So to “subsidise” the lost light you needed, he did a little research and got you a small fake sun light lamp, that sort of provided necessary “D” vitamin. On top of that he made sure to get other supplements and that you took them daily. You such a weird little thing, needing so much just to be able to function, and yet they still cared about you very much, no matter how hard taking care of you can be.

When they managed to get up on the surface and survive the train crash with only few scrapes and bruises, you were finally on the surface. D-16 and Orion wath you run around for a bit, enjoying the life of the surface no longer confound to you small den and the limited places they could take you, able to move freely and breath without trouble before Orion picked you up and steeled on your shoulder before continuing on their journey for the Matrix of Leadership, pondering out loud about what will happen afterward. You seamed to also enjoy your natural sunlight, leaning back a bit, not worrying about anything and letting warm sun light land on your skin. At first they did not notise anything, but after some time B-126 was first to see the change in your skin colour.

“Hey, is your little organic pet thing always able to change colour?! This is so COOL? How are they doing it? Can they be yellow? I thingk yellow will look good on them! Can they change their eyes to? What bout the strange thing on their head?” Bee waltz in front of Orion, his eyes glowing with curiosity as he pointed at you. Scared, D-16 quickly grabbed you and held in fron of him self, staring at you and trying not to panic. Your skin was a bit darker, lightly, but noticeable when your little fabric on your body shifted, showing a lighter tone line.

“Is this normal?” Orion asked, looking at you as well, moving your hair away from your shoulders to able to see a strange condition that you seamed to be indifferent to.

“Do I look like I know?” D-16 grumbled a bit, lifting your little hand to see anything else. “Maybe it’s normal for them. But I think we should hurry up”

And back on the shoulder you go, this time under carful surveillance of your “caretaker” bots, who seemed to be warry and did their best to shield you from to much light, but they can only do this much. Sending entire day in direct sun, with no protection, caused your skin to became red and by the night fall you seamed to be going in and out of conciseness. The trouble did not end here as the very next day you were letting chirps of distress and any touch, even light one, caused you a lot of pain and a strange bubbles that appeared on your body to pop, leaking some kind of coolant. D-16 got very concerned with this, trying to carry you while shielding from the light, refusing to let you rest on his shoulder now, grimacing every time you shifted, making your self hurt even more. Orion tried to brain storm what could be causing this yet he can only guess as he did not had access to any research and only hope is that you can push through, with only breaks coming at nights and cold air cooling you a bit. When they reached the green area of the planet, hiding beneath the shade of huge trees, you seemed to relax even more and it was decided to have a little break. B-126 tried to play with you, yet you were in to much pain to even move on your won, just wanting nothing but rest and try get better. D-16 could see it and had to shoo B away so that you can rest all while Orion disappeared off to somewhere, babbling about trying to find somrhitng he read in archives, promising and praying to Primes that he is correct. Another whimpered escaped your little body as you shifted, wrapping your self in the fabric you had on your body, shivering and letting another pained moan. Grumbling to him self, D-16 tried not to move you to much. You are so small and fragile, it’s a miracle that you were able to survive on your own planet. The thunder on the gorund signalled that Orion found what ever he was looking for, quickly kneeling down showing his findings – some water and a leaf that leaked a lot.

“It will help them. I remember reading that organics need liquids to be able to function. Back at Iacon we had enough of it, but not here. I hope this helps” he mumbled on, breaking the leaf even more and lifting your covers to smother the sticky substance al over the red areas. D-16 shuddered at the feeling of it on his servo alone, yet seeing you relax a bit and no longer in much pain, decided to suck it up. Orion quckly finished up, tossing the leaf aside and brought another leaf with water in it to you, slowly making you drink it, with two bots making sure that you will make it and you will be alright, finally letting two bots pet you.

[keepingitformyself]

older (and wiser): iii

A/N: well here we are! the final chapter of “older (and wiser).” this will not be the end tho! i plan to write a prequel series going more into depth about wanda and readers past, how they came to be, how they fell apart and what not. i do want to to make one more thing clear before you continue reading; this story is meant to be as realistic as possible. meaning the ending may not be for everyone. i specifically wrote this with intent of giving these characters an emotional arc they deserved. so, without further ado, enjoy this final chapter!

synopsis: wanda comes over for dinner one last time.

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst

warnings: it’s gonna be sad lowk. get the tissues ready.

MASTERLIST series masterlist

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

wanda spends most of the night back at her hotel, staring out the large window that overlooks the city. neon signs flicker in the distance, their glow casting fragmented patterns across her room.

she leans her forehead against the cool glass, letting the city hum around her, lost in thoughts of you. she imagines what you could be doing right now. if paul’s arms were wrapped around you, if he makes you laugh the way she used to. a hollow ache settles in her chest as she lets herself sink into the deep loss of not having you anymore.

the next day, early morning, wanda’s phone buzzes on the nightstand. she reaches for it groggily, only to find a message from you at the top of her screen.

come by at 6:30? here’s the address: 150 west 26th street, new york, ny 10001. see you soon!

for a moment, wanda just stares at the screen, her thumb hovering over the message. she exhales slowly, closing her eyes as a wave of uncertainty washes over her. part of her wants to pack her bags right then and there, to book an early flight and leave you in this city behind.

she doesn’t know which is worse. never facing you again or having to sit across the dinner table from you and your husband-to-be.

she spends the rest of the day mentally preparing herself for how this evening could go, running through endless scenarios in her head.

what would one talk about when having dinner with their ex’s fiance? especially when said ex is someone you’re still seemingly in love with.

oh yeah, your fiance used to look at me the same way.

or

of course, i know what her favorite song is. ‘do i ever cross your mind?’ by dolly parton. i performed it for her on our eighth month anniversary.

yeah, i paid the tech guy in the theatre department extra to let me use the theatre after hours.

the thoughts make her cringe, but the bitterness is hard to suppress. she tries to bite back the small, unwarranted hatred she’s developed for paul. everything she’s learned about him—despite her best efforts not to—has been nothing but positive.

he’s generous, patient, successful, and clearly loves you. and wanda knows you wouldn’t be marrying someone who didn’t treat you like you deserved the whole world.

it’s all pathetic in its nature. she should have been over you long by now. but she doesn’t know how to explain to you— to explain to herself—that leaving you is still something she’s trying to process. that even when she didn’t appreciate you enough, you felt like everything to her. you still do.

and she doesn’t know how to make sense of any of it.

by the time the sun sets, wanda’s resolve is still fragile. she dressed carefully, standing in front of the mirror for far too long, fussing with her appearance. she wants to look composed, unbothered. as if seeing you happy with someone else doesn’t feel like dagger to the heart. one that you keep twisting without trying.

at 6:15, she steps outside her hotel and hails a cab, clutching a bottle of wine she bought earlier as a polite gesture. as the cab weaves through the bustling streets of new york, wanda wonders what kind of expression you’ll wear when you see her. will it be warm, nostalgic, indifferent? she braces herself for anything.

when the cab drops her off in front of a sleek residential building in tribeca, she lingers for a moment before buzzing in. the door unlocks with a soft click, leading her into a quiet corridor toward an elevator. she steps inside, pressing the button for your floor with a hand that feels unsteady.

the walls feel too close. the air feels too thick.

by the time she reaches your door, her nerves are frayed. she knocks twice, her heart hammering.

four seconds later, the door swings open, and there you are, beaming at her like no time has passed.

"hi! it’s so good to see you."

before wanda can say anything, you pull her into a hug, warm and familiar. she exhales sharply, caught off guard, but she lets herself sink into it, just for a moment.

when you pull away, she notices the man standing just a few feet behind you, a cat in his arms. he watches the interaction with a patient, kind smile before gently setting the cat down.

“sorry about that,” paul says, laughing as the cat immediately tries to sneak toward the door. "he bolts every chance he gets."

then, without hesitation, he steps forward and grasps wanda’s hands in his own. his grip is firm, his smile genuine.

“it’s really nice to meet you, wanda.”

for a second, wanda is stunned by the ease of his kindness. she had spent so much time building him up in her head as an obstacle, an enemy, but standing here now, faced with his warmth, she almost felt guilty for ever resenting him.

“thank you for having me,” she manages, recovering quickly. she glances around, taking in the space. "you have a lovely home."

then, as if suddenly remembering, she reaches into her bag.

“i brought some wine,” she says, handing it to you. “the expensive kind. i know my stuff.” she huffs out a small laugh, forcing some lightness into her voice.

paul chuckles, taking the bottle from your hands to examine it. “i like her already.”

and just like that, wanda knows this is going to hurt more than she thought.

dinner passes in a blur of polite conversation and well-meaning smiles. paul is gracious, effortlessly kind, and wanda hates how easy it is to like him. she hates that there’s nothing about him to hate at all.

she watches the way you lean into him when you laugh, how his hand absentmindedly finds yours on the table. it’s second nature, the kind of comfort that only comes with time, with certainty.

and wanda knows, without question, that she has none of those things with you anymore.

paul has made it a habit to ask about how you and wanda met. even though she’s sure he already knows most of the story, he’s always genuine in wanting to hear more, especially the parts you tend to leave out.

“you got any funny stories about this one?” paul asks, flashing wanda a pointed smile. “something embarrassing, please.”

wanda huffs out a quiet laugh, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. she has plenty. but as she glances between you and paul, there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. some memories feel lighter than others. some carry more weight than she knows what to do with.

still, when she sees the way you’re watching her; curious, amused, trusting, she decides to tell it.

“oh, i’ve got one,” she says, leaning forward slightly. “back in college, we tried to break into the theatre department after hours. it wasn’t really breaking in, technically, the door was open, but we definitely weren’t supposed to be there. they had this whole wire rig set up for the upcoming peter pan production, and somebody—” she tilts her chin toward you “—thought it would be a great idea to try it out.”

paul turns to you, amused. “why am i not surprised?”

you groan, already bracing for the rest of the story. wanda smirks but continues, her voice softer now.

“so, there she was, strapped into this ridiculous harness, so sure she was about to soar across the stage like some theatrical prodigy. but the second she tried to lift off, the harness jammed, and instead of flying, she was just—”

“i was dangling there,” you chime in, groaning at the memory. “like some tragic shakespearean ghost.”

“and then, of course, security walks in,” she says, shaking her head. “and instead of, i don’t know, explaining, she panicked and yelled, ‘i have done the deed. didst thou not hear a noise?’”

paul bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his drink. “you did not.”

“she did,” wanda confirms, laughing softly. “the security guy just stood there for a second, like he was reconsidering every choice that led him to that moment, then sighed and said, ‘get down.’”

paul grins, shaking his head. “so, what happened next?”

“i had to help her out of the harness before we both got kicked out,” wanda says. “and then we ran. fast.” she pauses, her smile dimming just a little. “ended up at that all-night diner by campus instead. sat there for hours, drinking burnt coffee, still laughing about it.”

her voice drifts for a moment, lost in the memory. you swallow, feeling something heavy settle in your chest, but before the silence can stretch too long, you force out a small chuckle.

“i could’ve flown,” you say, shaking your head. “i just needed a little more time.”

wanda looks at you then, and there’s something in her gaze. something paul doesn’t quite catch, but you do.

“yeah,” she murmurs. “maybe you just needed more time.”

paul laughs again, unaware of the way wanda’s fingers tighten around her glass. “you two were absolute menaces, huh?”

and just like that, the moment passes. the air lightens again, and Wanda takes another sip of her wine. but the memory lingers between you, heavier than it should be.

“did she ever tell you that we watch some of your movies sometimes?” paul cuts in, his eyes bright with genuine curiosity. there’s an eager energy to him, the kind that makes it clear he isn’t just saying it to be polite—he actually wants to talk about her work.

wanda raises an eyebrow, glancing at you. “oh?”

you offer a small, sheepish smile, and paul continues before you can respond.

“i mean, seriously,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “i’m already a pretty emotional guy, but your movies? they wreck me.”

wanda lets out a soft, amused laugh, her fingers absently tracing the stem of her wine glass. “that’s very kind of you to say.” she takes a slow sip before adding, almost offhandedly, “i guess i just have a thing for playing characters in distress.”

paul barks out a laugh at that, shaking his head. “yeah, well, you do it very well. it’s almost unfair.”

wanda smirks, but there’s something thoughtful in the way she tilts her head, as if considering his words. then, with a teasing glint in her eye, she leans in slightly and says, “i take it you’re a crier, then?”

paul places a hand over his chest in mock offense. “absolutely. no shame.”

that earns a more genuine laugh from wanda, and for a moment, the tension in her shoulders eases. the air between the three of you feels a little lighter.

when the plates are empty and the conversation slows, paul pushes back his chair with a contented sigh.

“i’ll start on the dishes,” he says, already stacking plates. “you two should catch up.”

you smile at him, appreciative, and wanda feels something twist in her chest. she shouldn’t be here. she doesn’t belong here.

still, she doesn’t move.

you refill your wine glass and lean back in your chair, watching her carefully. wanda swirls what’s left in her own glass, staring at the deep red before speaking.

“maybe i should’ve tried to convince you to run off with me,” she jokes, her voice light, almost teasing.

but when she finally looks up, she sees the way your expression falters, just for a second. you know, both of you do, that it isn’t really a joke.

you let out a small breath, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. “that wouldn’t have changed anything, wanda.”

“wouldn’t it?” she asks, a little too quickly.

your eyes search hers, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like the past is sitting between you, untouched, waiting.

wanda wonders if there’s a universe where you had run off together. if there’s a version of you out there, tangled up in her arms instead of in someone else’s.

she swallows hard. “i wish i had tried a little harder.”

your face softens, but it’s not enough to undo the distance between you. “you couldn’t help it,” you say, voice gentle.

"i could have," she insists, her hands gripping the stem of her glass a little too tightly. there’s frustration in her voice, but beneath it, there’s something raw. regret, maybe.

you don’t argue. you won’t. because the truth is, she could have.

"yeah," you admit, barely above a whisper. "maybe."

silence settles between you. wanda watches as your gaze shifts toward the window, toward the street where people pass by, oblivious to the ache sitting between you both.

she doesn’t know what she was expecting. maybe some kind of reassurance that she still lingers in your mind the way you linger in hers. that if things had been different, if she had been different, this could have been her home, her life.

but you don’t give her that.

paul’s voice calls from the kitchen. “babe, where’s the dish soap?”

you blink, turning toward the sound, and the spell is broken.

wanda forces a smile, downing the last of her wine before standing. “i should get going.”

you don't question it.

you grab wanda’s coat from the rack and walk her to the door. she doesn’t ask you to, but neither of you are quite ready for the night to end without one last moment.

“leaving so soon?” paul asks suddenly, his voice light but tinged with something unreadable. both you and wanda turn to face him.

she nods apologetically, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “i have an early flight tomorrow,” she admits, offering a small, regretful smile.

“oh.” paul’s disappointment is subtle but there, it flickers in his eyes before he shapes his expression into something more polite. “well, it was really nice meeting you, wanda.”

you glance at him, catching the way he shifts slightly, rubbing his thumb over the inside of his palm. a small habit of his when he’s holding something back. you wonder, briefly, if tonight was difficult for him too, if he’s been carrying the weight of this evening the same way you have. you decide you’ll ask him about it later.

stepping forward, you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling the way his jaw relaxes at the familiar gesture. his hand finds yours easily, his fingers warm and steady against your own.

“i’m just gonna walk her out,” you murmur, giving his hand a small squeeze.

paul nods, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he offers wanda another polite smile. “safe travels,” he says, his voice kind, sincere.

as you lead wanda toward the door, you feel the weight of paul’s gaze lingering on you, as if he knows that this goodbye is heavier than it appears.

the air outside is crisp, carrying the distant hum of the city. wanda stands beside you on the curb, her arms wrapped around herself despite the warmth of her coat. the streetlights cast long shadows, and for a second, it feels like you’re standing on the edge of something you’ll never get back.

her uber is a few minutes away. that’s all the time you have left.

she exhales softly, eyes fixed on the passing cars. then, as if she’s been holding it in all night, she finally asks, “do you think we could have worked things out? if we had been different people? under different circumstances?”

the question hits you. you open your mouth, but nothing comes out. because the truth is, you don’t know.

maybe in another life. maybe in a world where you didn’t leave the hotel before she could see you, where you both didn’t have to love each other from a distance, where you didn’t have to wonder if loving her meant waiting for something that wasn’t enough.

but this isn’t that world.

you swallow hard, staring down at the pavement. “i don’t know, wanda.”

she nods, as if she expected that answer, but the sadness in her eyes deepens anyway. “me neither.”

the uber pulls up, headlights cutting through the night, and you both turn toward it. this is it. the real goodbye.

wanda hesitates, then reaches for you, pulling you into one last embrace. you don’t know who’s holding onto who tighter. when she pulls away, her hand lingers on your arm for a second too long before she finally steps back.

“take care of yourself,” she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

you give her a tight-lipped smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you too, wanda.”

she slides into the backseat, and as the car pulls away, you stand frozen on the sidewalk, watching until the taillights disappear around the corner.

and then it hits you.

the weight of it all crashes down at once. the grief, the finality, the understanding that there are some lives you’ll never get to live, some love stories that will never get their second chance.

you press a hand to your mouth as your chest tightens, eyes stinging, but you force yourself to turn back toward the building before you fall apart completely.

when you step into the lobby, you’re not surprised to see paul waiting by the elevator. he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t have to.

the moment you reach him, you break.

a choked sob escapes you as you fall into his arms, and he holds you without hesitation, one hand smoothing over your hair, the other wrapped firmly around your back.

“i’ve got you,” he murmurs against your temple. and you believe him.

because this was never about leaving him.

you love paul. you’ve never questioned that.

but love doesn’t erase the what-ifs. it doesn’t quiet the ache of knowing there’s a version of you out there who loved wanda differently, who had a life that was beautiful in its own way. one that you’ll never get to live.

paul presses a kiss to your hair and just holds you, letting you mourn what could have been.

and when you’re finally ready, he walks you up.

[fioredeciliego]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟔

𝐖𝐂: 𝟐.𝟖𝐊

ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲, '𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔢

The corridors of the castle were quiet in the early morning, save for the soft padding of Y/N’s footsteps against the marble floors. The storm from the previous night had left the air crisp and fresh, but the tension lingering in Y/N’s chest had nothing to do with the weather.

She hadn’t slept well. Not after what had almost happened between her and Minjeong under the stone archway. Not after the way they had nearly kissed—only to be interrupted at the last possible moment. The memory had replayed in her mind endlessly, leaving her restless, her thoughts tangled in something she wasn’t ready to name.

She was lost in those thoughts when she turned a corner—and froze.

Minjeong stood just a few feet away, exiting a noblewoman’s chambers.

The woman in question—a lady of high standing from Argoriath—stood at the doorway, dressed in a robe of deep burgundy, her hair slightly tousled as if she had just woken up. She smiled at Minjeong as she spoke, her voice too soft for Y/N to hear.

Y/N’s stomach twisted painfully.

Minjeong, oblivious to Y/N’s presence, nodded at whatever was said before offering the woman a polite bow. Then, without another word, she turned, heading down the hall.

Right toward Y/N.

Minjeong barely had time to register the storm brewing in Y/N’s expression before she spoke. “I see you’ve had a busy morning.”

Minjeong frowned, her steps slowing. “What?”

Y/N let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Didn’t take you for the type to warm someone’s bed and then stroll out like nothing happened.”

Minjeong’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked it with a scowl. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Y/N folded her arms, her nails digging into the fabric of her sleeves. “I saw you, Minjeong. Walking out of her chambers.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Was this all just a game to you?”

Minjeong’s patience, already frayed from lack of sleep, snapped. “Are you serious right now?”

Y/N’s jaw clenched. “I trusted you.”

Minjeong let out a sharp exhale, stepping closer. “And yet, you’re so quick to assume the worst of me.”

Y/N didn’t back down. “What else am I supposed to think? You’ve been getting closer to me, acting like you care, and then I see you leaving another woman’s chambers at dawn?”

Minjeong ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident in every movement. “I was discussing politics, Y/N. Nothing more.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she didn’t let her expression waver. “And I’m just supposed to believe that?”

Minjeong’s eyes flashed. “Yes, you are. Because if you actually knew me—if you actually trusted me—you wouldn’t be standing here throwing accusations at me like I’m some unfaithful lover.”

Y/N flinched, but she masked it with anger. “Maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought.”

Minjeong let out a bitter laugh. “Apparently not.”

The silence between them was deafening, charged with unspoken words and emotions neither of them were willing to name.

Minjeong exhaled, forcing herself to stay composed even as frustration burned inside her. “Do you honestly believe I’d betray you like that?”

Y/N shook her head, but her voice wavered when she spoke. “I don’t know, Minjeong. I don’t know anything anymore.”

Minjeong scoffed. “You think I’d throw everything away for a meaningless fling?”

Y/N’s expression tightened. “I don’t know what to think! I saw you leaving her chambers, Minjeong! What else am I supposed to believe?”

Minjeong’s nostrils flared as she fought for patience. “You’re supposed to believe me when I tell you the truth.”

Y/N let out a sharp exhale, running a hand over her face. “You don’t get it.”

Minjeong shook her head, her voice rising. “Then explain it to me!”

Y/N’s gaze snapped to hers, her eyes shining with something dangerously close to heartbreak. “I care about you, Minjeong.”

Minjeong’s breath caught. The words hit her harder than she expected.

Y/N swallowed hard before continuing, her voice quieter now. “And it terrifies me. Because just when I think we’re finally on the same page, I see something like this, and it feels like I’m just setting myself up to be hurt.”

Minjeong’s expression softened for half a second before she steeled herself again. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Y/N let out a broken laugh. “I want to believe that.”

Minjeong shook her head, stepping back. “But you don’t.”

Y/N remained silent, and the lack of response was louder than anything else.

Minjeong clenched her fists at her sides. “You know what? Forget it. Believe whatever you want, Y/N. I’m done explaining myself.”

Minjeong turned sharply, her boots clicking against the marble floors as she stalked away, her shoulders tense, her movements stiff with barely contained frustration. Y/N watched her go, arms still crossed over her chest, but her hands trembled slightly, fingers digging into the fabric of her sleeves.

Minjeong didn’t look back, but the further she walked, the more her anger twisted into something heavier. Hurt. Disappointment. The lingering echo of Y/N’s words looped through her mind, over and over.

Y/N cared. But she didn’t trust her.

And Minjeong wasn’t sure which one hurt more.

As she reached the end of the corridor, she found herself gripping the wall for support, inhaling sharply as frustration warred with something dangerously close to heartbreak. Y/N’s accusation had cut deep, deeper than Minjeong had expected. After everything, how could Y/N believe she would betray her so easily?

A servant walking past hesitated at the sight of Minjeong’s rigid stance, but one sharp look had them scurrying away. Minjeong didn’t have the patience to be seen like this, to be vulnerable in the open.

Y/N, meanwhile, remained rooted to the spot. Her anger simmered, but beneath it was something worse—regret. But she couldn’t bring herself to chase after Minjeong, not when she was still so unsure. Because if she was wrong… if Minjeong was telling the truth… then she had just hurt the one person who had been proving, again and again, that she was worth trusting.

But if she was right?

She clenched her jaw, her heart aching in a way she refused to name.

Neither of them slept well that night.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The castle had never felt so suffocating.

Y/N threw herself into her duties with an almost reckless fervor. Meetings, council discussions, diplomatic briefings—anything to keep her mind occupied. Anything to drown out the lingering ache that settled in her chest every time she thought of Minjeong.

And she thought of her often.

Minjeong had always been an unavoidable presence in her life, but now, with the sharp edge of their last conversation still cutting deep, her absence was louder than ever. The corridors felt colder without their usual bickering. The training grounds felt emptier without Minjeong’s voice taunting her, pushing her to be better. Even meals in the grand hall were dull without the occasional brush of Minjeong’s shoulder or the way her eyes would flicker toward Y/N when she thought no one was looking.

And yet, Y/N avoided her at every turn.

She made sure their schedules never overlapped. If she heard Minjeong was in the library, she would take her work to the gardens. If Minjeong was training in the courtyard, Y/N would conveniently have an urgent meeting to attend. It was pathetic, really, but Y/N didn’t trust herself. Not when her emotions were still raw, not when she wasn’t sure if the anger she had felt was justified or if it had been driven by something deeper—something she wasn’t ready to face.

“She’s been asking about you.”

Y/N glanced up from the endless scrolls of trade negotiations spread out before her. Queen Irene stood by the window, her arms crossed as she studied her daughter carefully.

Y/N’s fingers tightened around the parchment. “Who?”

Irene’s lips twitched in mild amusement. “Don’t play coy. You know exactly who.”

Y/N exhaled, setting the scroll aside. “I’m busy, Mother.”

“Too busy to see your future wife?”

Y/N flinched at the title. It was a reminder of how inevitable Minjeong was in her life, no matter how much space she tried to put between them.

Irene sighed, stepping closer. “You can’t avoid her forever, Y/N.”

“I’m not avoiding her.” It was a weak defense, and Irene raised an unimpressed brow. Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. “I just need time.”

“Time for what?”

“To figure out if I was right,” Y/N admitted, her voice quieter now. “Or if I just… ruined everything for nothing.”

Irene studied her for a long moment before nodding. “Then figure it out. But don’t take too long.”

Y/N swallowed, nodding in return, but even as she turned back to her work, she knew the words wouldn’t leave her alone.

Because deep down, she already knew the answer.

She missed Minjeong.

Terribly.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The sound of clashing steel echoed through the training grounds.

Minjeong moved like a storm, relentless and wild, her blade meeting her opponent’s with sharp, unyielding precision. Her breaths were short and controlled, her muscles burning with exertion, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

“Again,” she demanded, stepping back just enough to reset her stance.

Her knight—an older, seasoned warrior named Sir Baek—exhaled sharply, gripping his training sword tighter. “Your Highness, you should take a break.”

Minjeong ignored him, lunging forward with renewed aggression. Her strikes were faster, harder, driven by something beyond discipline—something dangerously close to desperation.

Baek barely blocked in time, his stance faltering. “Minjeong.” His voice held warning now. “You’re fighting like you’re trying to exorcise a ghost.”

She gritted her teeth, pivoting swiftly and forcing him back. “Maybe I am.”

Baek parried another hit, scowling. “This isn’t training anymore. You’re trying to hurt yourself.”

Minjeong’s blade came down in a brutal arc, colliding with Baek’s sword so forcefully that the impact sent a jarring vibration through her arms. For a moment, she just stood there, breathing heavily, jaw clenched.

Baek took the opportunity to shove her back with his sword hilt—not hard, but enough to snap her out of it. “That’s enough.”

Minjeong staggered slightly but didn’t protest. Sweat clung to her skin, her heart hammering in her chest.

Baek sheathed his sword with a sigh. “Whatever’s eating at you, deal with it outside of the training grounds.”

Minjeong exhaled sharply, running a hand through her damp hair. “I am dealing with it.”

Baek shook his head. “No, you’re avoiding it.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Is this about Princess Y/N?”

Minjeong’s grip on her sword tightened.

Baek let out a knowing hum. “Thought so.”

Minjeong didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because the truth was, the more she fought, the more she pushed herself past exhaustion, the clearer one agonizing fact became.

She didn’t want to fight Y/N.

She just wanted her back.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The night was eerily quiet.

Minjeong had barely settled in her chambers, still restless from the day’s training, when the first distant shouts pierced the air. At first, she thought it was nothing more than the usual disturbances from the night watch—perhaps a drunken noble causing trouble.

Then the screams started.

Minjeong was on her feet instantly, grabbing the sword she had only just set aside. A loud crash echoed through the corridors, followed by the unmistakable clang of steel against steel. The castle was under attack.

She shoved open her doors just as a soldier in unfamiliar armor ran past. No crest of Argoriath, no royal insignia of Mindor—this was an invading force.

Minjeong didn’t hesitate. She strode forward, intercepting one of the soldiers as he rounded the corner. He barely had time to register her presence before her blade found his side, a swift, precise strike that sent him crumpling to the ground.

Another clash of metal rang out from deeper within the castle. Minjeong turned sharply, her mind racing. The infiltration was too swift, too coordinated. She looked out the window, and when she saw the house sigil of the House of Lee, she knew. This wasn’t just an attack—this was a coup.

A coup led by Lord Mark.

Her blood ran cold at the realization.

She needed to find Y/N.

But first, she had to fight her way to her.

Minjeong sprinted down the hallway, her boots slamming against the marble floors as she made her way toward the main stairwell. As she descended, she spotted a group of castle guards engaged in battle against the invaders. The guards, though well-trained, were outnumbered. The enemy’s forces were small, but they moved with deadly precision, cutting through the castle’s defenses with terrifying efficiency.

Without hesitation, Minjeong joined the fray. She parried an incoming sword strike, twisting her blade to disarm her opponent before landing a sharp kick to his chest, sending him sprawling backward. Another enemy lunged toward her, but she sidestepped, slashing her sword across his arm before finishing him with a swift strike to the neck.

The guards around her fought fiercely, but for every enemy they took down, more seemed to appear. Minjeong gritted her teeth, blocking another strike before countering with one of her own. Blood sprayed across the cold stone floors, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

A guard beside her fell, a dagger buried in his back. Minjeong barely had time to process it before another enemy advanced, forcing her to meet his attack. Their blades clashed, sparks flying as she pushed forward, her muscles burning with effort. She could feel the weight of the battle pressing down on her, the reality of the situation sinking in.

This was no mere rebellion. This was an orchestrated overthrow.

And they were running out of time.

With one final slash, Minjeong took down her opponent and turned toward the remaining guards. “We need to push forward! We can’t let them take the throne room!”

One of the senior guards, his face streaked with blood and sweat, nodded grimly. “Agreed. But they’re coming from all sides, Your Highness. We need a strategy.”

Minjeong’s mind worked quickly, assessing the situation. “Half of you, hold the main stairwell. The rest, follow me. We cut through their forces and secure the royal chambers.”

With renewed determination, she pushed forward, her sword slicing through the chaos as she led the charge deeper into the castle.

She didn’t know what awaited her ahead, but she knew one thing for certain.

She had to reach Y/N before it was too late.

As Minjeong and her guards fought their way through the corridors, she heard a scream—one that sent an icy spike of fear down her spine.

Y/N.

Minjeong’s focus sharpened. She cut down another soldier before sprinting toward the direction of the sound, her heart pounding wildly. She turned the corner and froze.

Y/N was fighting, her sword clashing against an enemy’s, but she was outnumbered. Two soldiers flanked her, while a third advanced from behind. Even as she fought valiantly, Minjeong saw the inevitable play out in slow motion—one soldier managed to grab Y/N’s arm, twisting it behind her back, while another struck the hilt of her sword, knocking it to the ground with a deafening clang.

“No!” Minjeong shouted, her voice raw.

She surged forward, but she was too late.

It wasn’t just any soldier holding Y/N captive.

It was Mark.

He grinned as he yanked Y/N against him, his arm coiling tightly around her waist while his free hand pressed a dagger to her throat. Y/N thrashed, trying to break free, but Mark was stronger than he looked. “Ah, ah, Princess,” he taunted, his voice dangerously smooth. “Wouldn’t want to spill royal blood so soon, would we?”

Minjeong’s grip on her sword tightened so hard her knuckles turned white. “Let. Her. Go.”

Mark chuckled, as if the entire situation amused him. “You really think you’re in any position to make demands?” He pressed the dagger just a fraction closer to Y/N’s throat, making her freeze. “Drop your sword, Minjeong.”

Minjeong’s heart hammered wildly. If she dropped her weapon, she’d be vulnerable. But if she didn’t—

Y/N caught her gaze, eyes pleading.

Minjeong exhaled sharply, pure rage burning through her veins. “You’re making a mistake, Mark.”

Mark smirked. “No, Minjeong. I’m fixing one.”

With that, he dragged Y/N backward into the shadows, disappearing down the corridor.

Minjeong roared in frustration, lunging forward, but more soldiers blocked her path, forcing her to engage. Her blade clashed against theirs, her strikes wild with desperation, but she couldn’t break through in time.

She could only watch as Y/N was taken from her, vanishing into the depths of the castle.

A hollow, bone-deep rage settled in Minjeong’s chest.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ; 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 18

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

The next day at work you were exhausted and distracted, almost putting the wrong shade of foundation on two different clients and completely forgetting primer and setting spray on another. You never fell back asleep after you got home that morning and you spent the entire day constantly checking your phone to see if Tom had texted you, even though you told yourself you didn’t want him to. You needed space from him to get over whatever was going on with you. However, the longer the day went on without hearing from him, the more depressed you got. What the fuck was happening to you?

When you went to bed that night, you checked the On Demand Entertainment website to see if Tom’s interview was online yet. Sure enough, the video was just posted. You settled back against your pillow and pressed play. 

Tom was dressed in a classic white button down shirt with a navy suit jacket and trousers. He was also wearing his glasses, which usually meant he was too tired for contacts. Still, you always thought he looked especially sexy in his glasses. 

The interview started with the classically attractive blonde reporter asking about Tom’s latest projects. His face lit up as he answered her, like it always did when he talked about his work. It wasn’t long, however, before she began ramping up to ask him about his love life, at which point, he began fidgeting more than usual, touching his face, rubbing his thighs, adjusting his glasses, and running his fingers through his hair. 

“So Tom, many of your films and series revolve heavily around romance, something you seem to have quite the knack for on screen,” the reporter began. 

Tom blushed. “Well, thank you. You’re too kind, really.”

“But what about off screen,” she continued. “You would have a hard time convincing me that Tom Hiddleston doesn’t have someone special in his life.”

He shifted in his seat, crossing his legs as he laughed nervously. Your heart rate sped up a little bit. You told yourself it was just because you were nervous for him, but the truth was you were genuinely anxious about what he would say. “Actually, I am currently unattached,” he replied coyly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a better answer than that.” He chuckled bashfully.

“In that case, I’m sure our viewers would love to know how you would describe your perfect woman,” she responded without missing a beat. You rolled your eyes. Hear we go, you thought.

Tom furrowed his brow and rubbed the pad of his index finger across his lips contemplatively. “Should have seen that one coming,” he joked. Then he blushed again and smiled, seemingly thinking of something. “I think my so-called ‘perfect woman’ is anything but perfect. Someone who is passionate, almost to a fault, who recognizes the beauty in everyone but herself, and who calls me out on things that no one else will because she sees me for who I truly am, not what the world makes me out to be.” His face lit up again, just like when he talked about his work. That usually didn’t happen when he talked about his personal life. Was he thinking of someone specific, or was he acting? You’d like to think you knew him well enough to know whether he was acting or not, but then again, he was incredibly talented. 

Once the video ended, you set your phone aside and stared at the ceiling, debating if you should text Tom or not. You definitely hadn’t cleared your head of those annoying thoughts and feelings from the night before, and you wanted him to be the one to text you first. Still, you were the one to leave abruptly this morning, and you should still be a supportive friend about his interview. After about an hour of wrestling with yourself, you finally picked up your phone.

Goddammit, you thought. So much for getting some space. 

A few minutes later, you heard Tom enter your house. “Sweets?” he called, looking for you.

“In here,” you responded from the bedroom. You continued scrolling through your phone, wanting to appear indifferent.

Your bedroom door was open, but he gave a courtesy knock on the door frame anyway. “May I come in?”

“I was under the impression that I didn’t have a choice,” you replied, never looking away from your phone screen.

He chuckled lightly and then flopped down next to you on the bed. He gave you a quick peck on the shoulder and then positioned himself so he was laying perpendicular to you, with his head resting on your stomach.  “Hi.”

“Hi.” Your eyes stayed on the screen.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to hold your phone hostage to get you to talk?” 

“You will do no such thing,” you told him firmly, still not looking at him. “You were the one who decided to interrupt my quiet evening.” He swiftly plucked your phone from your hands and tucked it underneath him, forcing you to finally look at him. “Oi!”

“Talk,” he commanded. 

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“You literally just told me that you’re too in your head lately. So what exactly is going on in your head?”

You sighed and rubbed your face. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, trust me.”

“Fine then. Tell me what you meant when you told me to take you out of my ‘rotation.’”

“You know what I meant.”

“Actually, no, I don’t. Do you really think I just have a bunch of women on retainer, ready to come when I call?” 

You raised your eyebrows at him. “You expect me to believe that you don’t?”

“Is that really what you think of me?” He looked concerned. 

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. “I just meant that you could literally have anyone you want. Why wouldn’t you take advantage of that opportunity?”

He sighed. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Care to explain?”

“Not particularly. I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about that?”

“You started it!”

“I just… I hope that’s not what you’re upset about.” He searched your face for confirmation, but you weren’t about to give it to him.

“It’s not. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m sure you’ll find something or someone else to do while I work through my shit.”

“That’s not why I’m concerned. You’re my friend and I want to help you. I don’t understand why you won’t let me.”

You paused, feeling a lump form in your throat as you fought back tears. “Because it’s not something you can help with,” you choked out.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly as he sat up and took your face in his hands. “You’re starting to scare me, Y/n. Please talk to me.” 

You closed your eyes for a moment, causing some tears to fall down your cheeks. Tom brushed them away with his thumbs. You looked back up at him. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” you whispered, your teary eyes darting between his eyes and his lips. With genuine concern still in his eyes, he slowly leaned forward and just barely touched his lips to yours. You brought your hands up to cradle the back of his neck and gently pull him closer to you. His lips caressed yours tenderly, moving cautiously. 

After a moment, he hesitantly broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. “Should I stay, or do you want me to leave?” he asked in a low voice.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” you replied, echoing his own words from moments ago.

“Care to explain?”

“Not particularly.” Though there was still sadness in your eyes, a slight smirk crossed your face from giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He gave a small chuckle. “Then I think I’d like to stay. I’d rather not leave you like this.”

Your stomach filled with butterflies, but your brain told you not to think anything of it. “You really don’t have to,” you told him as he stood up and stripped down to his boxers. “Honestly, I’m okay.”

“While I one hundred percent believe you,” he said sarcastically as he climbed back into your bed and gently brushed one last stray tear from your face. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign that he was just doing this out of pity. When you couldn’t find one, you gave him a small smile. “Then I suppose I have no choice but to let you stay.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, smiling back at you. He’d never called you that before– his girl– and even though you knew it was just an expression, you were sure that if you’d been standing, your knees would have buckled. He kissed you again briefly and then laid down on his side facing you. You turned on your side so the two of you were face to face and he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

”I noticed you wore your glasses for your interview. Did you get any sleep after I left this morning?” you asked him.

“You know me too well,” he replied, running his foot lazily up and down your calf. “No, I couldn’t fall back asleep after you left.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you groaned, hiding your face in his chest. “You were sleeping so soundly before I woke you up.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

You lifted your head back up to look at him. “You were snoring.”

“What? I do not snore,” he argued in disbelief.

“It’s just a soft, little snore,” you explained, trying to hide your smile. “It’s kind of cute actually.” 

He looked at you suspiciously. “Are you sure it wasn’t just that one time?”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh no. You’ve snored every night that we’ve slept together. I can’t believe no one else has told you this before!”

He shrugged. “Not everyone is as honest with me as you are, darling.”

“Well, someone needs to put you in your place once in a while,” you teased.

He laughed. “You’ll have no arguments from me about that.” His expression quickly shifted back to concern. “Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?”

“I’m positive,” you assured him. “Like I said, I think it’s cute.” You tried to fight the yawn that crept up on you, but you lost.

Tom carefully tucked your hair behind your ear. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead and held you close to his chest. You fell asleep almost instantly.

…

When you woke up the next morning, you rolled over to find that Tom was gone and there was a note on the side table. 

Had to rush to a meeting. I would have said goodbye but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. I hope you’re feeling better, and know that I’m always here if you need me. xx -T

With a heavy sigh, you let your forehead fall onto the mattress. This man was not making this easy on you. Why did he have to be so goddamn sweet? And why did you let him stay over in the first place? Even without the sex, you wouldn’t be able to get over…whatever was going on with you… if you kept up all this cuddling, and kissing, and sleeping over. Unfortunately, that meant that you had to set that boundary with him.

He didn’t reply right away, and your mind and heart started racing. Was it just about the sex for him this whole time? Did you just lose who you thought was your best friend over this? You felt yourself about to break down in tears, but then your phone buzzed.

You let out a sigh of relief, but there was still a small pit in your stomach. You desperately hoped that this would work; that the two of you could just focus on your friendship for a while and you would get over your silly emotions, and maybe you would go back to having casual sex one day, or maybe not. The important thing was that you wouldn’t lose him. You couldn’t lose him.

…

Tom threw his phone to the other end of the sofa and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his head in his hands. You wanted to focus on being friends. Of course. Just when he’d finally admitted to himself that he had feelings for you. He wanted so desperately to take a step forward, and instead you took a step back. At least he hadn’t made a fool of himself like Evelyn had suggested he do in Hawaii. 

It was a few nights before you came to visit him, and he and a few cast members had gone out for some drinks. 

“So Tom, are you ever going to tell us who she is?” Evelyn said with a nudge to Tom’s side.

“Who who is?” Tom asked, confused. 

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Do you really think no one has noticed when you get a text and you start grinning like an idiot?”

“I don’t grin like an idiot,” he defended. 

“Oh, you so do,” Lily, another co-star, chimed in. 

He chuckled nervously. “It’s just my friend, Y/n.”

Evelyn scoffed. “Your friend? If she’s just your friend, then why are you blushing?”

Tom felt his cheek with his hand and looked down in embarrassment. “She’s my best friend, actually. And yes, we sleep together occasionally, but it’s casual. Nothing more than that.”

“You sleep together??” Evelyn and Lily squealed in unison. 

He blushed harder. “Okay, tone it down, ladies. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal!” Evelyn contested. “You’re best friends, you sleep together, and she makes you light up like a fucking christmas tree… You’re completely smitten!”

Tom shook his head. “Stop. I am not smitten. We’ve had an agreement to keep things casual and that’s what we’ve done.”

Lily’s face suddenly lit up in realization. “Wait! Is this the friend that’s coming to stay with you this week?”

“Yeah, but–”

“Casual, my ass!” Evelyn accused, pointing her finger in his face. “You are SO smitten!”

Tom hid his face in his hands, failing to hide his ears which were now bright red. “Okay, fine… Maybe a little.”

Evelyn and Lily both let out another squeal, this time reaching a pitch only dogs could hear. 

Tom was actually surprised himself. Maybe it was because he was a bit tipsy, but they just got him to admit something out loud that he’d never even admitted to himself before. 

Evelyn grabbed his arm rather aggressively. “You have to tell her!” 

Tom’s head shot up from the cover of his hands. “Absolutely not,” he protested. 

“Why not?” Lily asked.

“Are you mad? What if she doesn’t feel the same? Then it’s going to be awkward between us and I could lose my best friend!”

Evelyn looked at him like he was stupid. “She’s coming all the way from London to spend a whole week with you!” 

“Because she desperately needs a holiday, and the only reason she decided to take it was because I already arranged it!”

“Dude, you’ve got it bad,” Lily said, shaking her head. 

“I do, don’t I?” Tom groaned, returning his head to his hands. 

Evelyn rubbed his shoulder in an effort to comfort him. “Look, see how the week goes. If you detect any sign that maybe she has feelings for you too, tell her. If she doesn’t feel the same– which I find highly unlikely, by the way– at least you know, and then you can move on. And if she’s truly your best friend, then this little hiccup won’t matter!”

Tom sighed and then turned his head to look at her. “You really think so?”

“I’m sure of it.”

He almost did it. He was going to tell you how he felt on the ride to the airport, but then you suddenly closed yourself off and told him not to come with you, saying you had to “get back to reality,” and it made him question everything he thought he felt between you the night before.

Despite Evelyn’s hopeful sentiment, however, you only seemed to pull away more and more after that. You stopped wearing his clothes, you were texting him less and less, you wouldn’t tell him what’s wrong, and now you just wanted to strictly be friends. He would no longer be able to kiss you, to hold you, to feel you in his arms while he slept, to wake up to your beautiful face. But he’d sacrifice all of that if it meant he wouldn’t lose you. He couldn’t lose you.

Taglist: @chronicallybubbly , @the-princess-of-loki , @princess-ofthe-pages , @darcylikesloki , @kikster606 , @foxherder , @simone818283 , @newtomofgods @christinebloodwrittings @tom-hlover , @lulubelle814 , @kingliam2019

[honourablejester]

In 5e, unless otherwise stated, magic items are assumed to grant castings of the spell at the lowest level the spell is available. A first level cure wounds heals 1d8+casting modifier HP (buffed to 2d8 in 5.5e), so a wand of cure wounds with 7 charges will let you cure 7d8+21 (assuming a spellcaster with +3 to their casting stat) damage for free per day in 5e (around 56 damage on average?) to 14d8+21 in 5.5e (91 average damage). The casting modifier will increase with levels, so it’ll get slightly better with time, and obviously you as DM can choose to grant a higher level casting of the spell (an extra d8 per spell level in 5e and 2d8 in 5.5e). Not too much of a game breaker, I’d say.

For the rest of your response, the guy I was originally responding to was, very much, discussing constructing megadungeons with the aim to encourage exploration within them as the primary activity (as in, you earn XP primarily for exploration), and was specifically talking about the 15 minute adventuring day in the context of stopping them from leaving the dungeon to go back to town to heal up. And, well. My question was, why are we worried about that? Let them heal in the dungeon so they can keep exploring, and it shouldn’t be an issue.

The idea he started out with was a megadungeon that would essentially function as a whole campaign’s adventuring environment, not something you dipped into for something specific and bailed out of again. At least it very much sounded like it when he started. He was specifically talking about using 5e rather than earlier variations of D&D because 5e is relatively overpowered and would allow characters to stay alive and stay exploring longer. And in that context, his sudden swerve to ‘no healing items, here’s how we force people to stay in here without them instead of bailing every day to heal up’ seemed very strange. As someone else in the thread pointed out, it was like he started out in 5e for a dungeon that your players are planned to stay in, and then abruptly swerved back to an older/more OSR system that assumed they couldn’t stay or camp in the dungeon and would have to retreat to heal.

Like, why was he worried about healing items specifically, to the point of banning them, when his goal was to make people stay in and keep exploring? A party who can get back up after one or two extra fights will still need to rest to refresh everything else. Spell slots, rages, action surge, special abilities. Almost every cool class ability in 5e has to refresh on a long rest (or sometimes a short one). And a willingness to go those one or two extra fights before bailing out or searching for a camping location is also part of what he wants to encourage, so genuinely, it seems like healing items would only help what he’s trying to achieve.

Why was he worried about people leaving the dungeon if they didn’t have to in order to keep functioning? If your goal is to set up a dungeon that will take the whole campaign, you can’t be imagining that they’ll have to fully retreat from the dungeon every time they need to rest, because that’s going to get very tedious, and it’s not going to encourage the party to go deeper if they have to be planning to pull fully out every single day. So I would assume you’d have to build some ability for the party to rest into the dungeon itself.

So my question very much was, yes, why is he worrying about the 15 minute adventuring day? The premise we started out with, a campaign level megadungeon designed for a party to continuously explore, would automatically prevent that from a standing start unless we’re going out of our way to make it difficult for the party. Which he then promptly appeared to start doing?

Because, me personally, I would very much enjoy a 5e, overpowered, massive dungeon environment where the idea is that you and your party venture in with the intention to stay in and explore for as long as you’re interested in exploring.

And I don’t object to resource management as part of that. I fully get that it would be a decent chunk of the fun. The logistics of when and how to set up safe resting areas, of having to find or work with various factions to gain access to various resources (food and water, tools, access to new areas), making safe lines of retreat to enable yourself to go deeper from each new ‘base camp’ area, all of that seems very cool. But banning healing items would seem to have very little to do with that?

And a 15 minute adventuring day wouldn’t seem to be a concern that’s too likely to come up either, if your party is doing what they actually want to be doing. Because resting is tedious too, especially long resting. Even if you’re not roleplaying it out every time, like, the party wants to be doing things? How many people want to be all … do one fight, sit on your arse, clear one obstacle, sit on your arse? Wouldn’t that be boring in and of itself? The main reason I would assume they’re doing that is if they’re afraid they’ll die if they do anything else, at which point artificially trying to stop them will only make things worse. If you’ve gotten to the point where you’re punishing your players for doing something they have to do in order to keep functioning, we’ve landed in a very adversarial position.

Past a certain point, I think you have to trust that, if your players are engaged with your game and are doing something they want to be doing, then they’ll push themselves as far as they think they reasonably can in order to keep doing that thing. And if they’re not doing that, maybe it’s because they’re not doing something they want to be doing?

I’m watching a (3hr) discussion on megadungeons as a concept for modern d20 games on a youtube channel called Knights of Last Call, and I’m enjoying it a lot, because it does explore a couple of points that I’ve been very much looking for. Namely, the idea that megadungeons should be there to enable and reward exploration. Which means, among other things, there can’t be a time-pressure meta plot (you have to get to the bottom of the dungeon to stop the lich before he destroys the world), and that the game/DM needs to explicitly reward (with xp, magic items, etc) the act of exploration, not the act of killing things while exploring.

Because the thing I always found enchanting about the idea of massive dungeons and complexes was the idea of going in to see what’s down there. Not being forced in for a plot, but just … because I’m curious, and I want to see what’s there. And he discusses how modern d20 games like Pathfinder and 5e can actually be better for that than OSR-type games because characters are more powerful and sturdy and can survive doing that. You can explore, and (most likely) have a decent shot of surviving said exploration. You can take risks because you’ll survive a broader range of risks.

The thing with a megadungeon is that it’s there to be explored, and so to encourage, enable and reward exploration for people who want to play that kind of game in the first place, you have to a) not penalise taking risks and going exploring by making it instantly lethal to try and go anywhere, and b) actively reward going exploring by making it the main way your character gets more cool things, such as magic items and/or new abilities from levelling up.

(And, he’s less explicit about this, but also making the rewards self-contained to the dungeon, things you find and gain in the dungeon, and not things you’d have to bring outside the dungeon to benefit from. So cool items you can keep and use, experience to level up, knowledge that would allow you to access new areas, etc, not things like gold where you’d have to go back outside to spend it, or quests that you have to go to external parties to be rewarded for).

The discussion goes into some detail about potential ways to do this, and potential problems with various methods, but overall I just really like the tone of the discussion. Because that very much is a thing I’ve been looking for for a long, long time. A game that rewards the simple desire to go somewhere and see what’s there. I don’t want to explore a massive underground complex because there’s a bad guy down there and I need to stop him, I want to explore it because there’s rumours that there’s a vast underground sea down there where creatures that haven’t been seen in aeons are rumoured to still live (blame reading Journey to the Centre of the Earth as a kid), or to discover why there’s a massive dungeon down there and learn who built it, or just because it’s a big strange space and I just want to see what it looks like.

He does talk about how you make dungeons interesting enough to justify that, things like thematically-distinct areas (like the underground lake, or the weird sunless forest, or the ghoul town, etc) so that it’s not one endless slog of ‘10ft wide corridors and stone rooms’, and to make it interconnected so that the players have full choice of where they go and what risks they want to take (enabling them to skip ahead difficulty levels, or retreat if need be, or escape areas that they’re not enjoying). And to possibly put in some distinct … not end goals, but capstone events, like a boss monster very deep down, that might feel like an ‘ending’ if the party wants to ‘finish’ the dungeon. Not something that will ‘burst out and destroy the world’, but something contained to the dungeon that a party could triumph over if they want a ‘final challenge’ sort of feeling. But one that’s optional, a challenge they can take up if they want to, not a prerequisite for getting out of the dungeon or completing a large goal, but just a challenge that exists if they want to take it on.

Because, and I do agree, a lot of the problem with exploring in D&D is not necessarily that there’s no mechanical support for it, in terms of things like skills, etc, but because there’s no reward for it, and in terms of structured adventures, there’s often either narrative or mechanical punishment for it (running out of time on the baddie, or running into something too lethal for your party to handle with no option to nope out). A megadungeon as a concept is a cool environment where exploration is the whole point, and the only point, and if you take care not to put an external pressure on it (‘kill the lich or else’), then then party has time to poke around and decide what they want to see and what risks they want to take (or nope out of). Especially in something so big that there’s no real chance of finishing it, so there’s no ‘100% completion’ pressure, just a big buffet of options for people to pick and choose from.  

(There are so many things in 5e that would be excellent for an exploration game, especially in terms of spells and magic items, but because combat is so much the driving force of the standard mode of play, people are reluctant to ‘waste’ spells known/prepared and/or items attuned on things like Alarm or Water Walk or Purify Food & Drink or non-combat items like Candles of the Deep or Foldable Boats or Slippers of Spider Climbing when those slots could be used for combat spells/items instead. But if exploration gets you XP, and if you can nope out of combat as required because there’s no massive stakes/story riding on it, then you’ve got more room for these things).

There’s also an in-depth discussion on ‘game balance’ and CR, and why megadungeons might not necessarily require them, for the simple fact that everything in the dungeon is optional and not required to forward the story/plot, so you can try challenges way above your level if you’re feeling frisky that day, and just nope out and go a different way if it starts really not working for you. Which I feel is a fun point.

There is a point that this is a specific mode of play and not meant to be the point of the game in general. It’s specifically for people (like me) who want exploration as its own point and reward, without needing a quest or storyline attached, and for whom combat is an element/hazard/complication but not the point. But. If you are specifically doing a MEGADUNGEON, it’s an interesting look at things to consider and what people might want out of a massive self-contained dungeon that’s going to be the whole point of the campaign in and of itself.  

Where he loses me is when the discussion moves to how to prevent the '15 Minute Adventuring Day', where people go in, do a room or two, and then go back out to rest and heal and resupply, instead of staying in the dungeon to keep exploring. And for some reason allowing healing is bad for this? If you want them to stay in the dungeon, how is it bad to let them heal in the dungeon? Set up factions to trade with and potential base camp locations in the dungeon to let them heal and resupply and set up safe areas so that they can stay in there potentially infinitely? Though it’s possible that I missed something about his point there.

But yeah. I love the idea of megadungeons, vast areas to explore just because they’re there, and I love the idea of game modes with all the cool abilities and spells and powers of D&D BUT where the thing that’s rewarded is exploration and interacting with the environment rather than combat.

(There’s also … I think this also reminds me of the story arc vs episodic discussion regarding TV, where I genuinely like episodic series equally to story-line driven ones, and I think that in games it also works, where there’s a BIG SETTING and the point is to go out and have episodic adventures in it. A loose sandbox like a megadungeon where there’s no plot, you’re just exploring and seeing what you encounter day to day (and possibly developing plots as you interact with individual areas/factions and then connect them to other ones) is also an excellent way to play a game).

Anyway. Forgive the sidebar ramble.

[aspenmissing]

Hello my dear! I need to get another idea out of my head. And I know, that it'll be here in good hands ^-^

Wdisappearance (and also Mylo's and Claggor's) death and Vi's disappearance, Powder was her last everything.

So, even though Silco was one of the main reasons all of this happened, she decided to work for him, to be as close to Powder as possible. Even though she knew, that working for him would change her (negatively) as a person.

Years passed and all of the sudden Vi stood in front of Reader, asking for her sister. Both of them started a big, emotional argument. Trying to understand each others side. What happened, what changed - How they changed as a person.

So it's like Sister Reader x Jinx but also kinda Vi x Sister Reader?

ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ

ᴊɪɴx x ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴠɪ (ꜰᴇᴀᴛ. ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ) || ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 4193 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ʙᴀᴋᴀɪ!! ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪᴄᴇ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!! < 3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴠɪ

Y/N stood in the shadows of the undercity, the faint glow of neon lights from the depths of Zaun painting the air around her in harsh hues of blue and red. She had been here for weeks now, lost in the haze of her own grief and guilt. The streets of Zaun had changed since the explosion at the factory, since that fateful night when Powder, the girl she had once shared a bond with, became something else. A bomb, a betrayal, and a fire that consumed everything—Vi, Mylo, Vander, and Claggor were gone, leaving only ashes and broken pieces of what used to be.

Powder was the last thing Y/N had left. Her name was etched into her heart like a scar, a reminder of the innocent girl she had tried to protect, the girl she had failed. But now, Powder was no longer the same. The girl who had once looked at Y/N with wide, hopeful eyes had turned into something dangerous, someone willing to destroy anything in her path for the sake of vengeance.

And Silco… Silco had been the one to take advantage of that. The undercity was his to control, and he knew exactly how to manipulate Powder’s anger and grief. He was the one who kept her close, fed her rage, and used her as a weapon. Y/N knew Silco was one of the architects of their destruction, but there was no going back now. In a way, she had chosen this path. She had chosen to be here, in the heart of the chaos, where the promise of reconnecting with Powder lingered like a fragile thread.

"You're late," a cold voice broke her reverie.

Y/N turned to face him. Silco, sitting in his high-backed chair, eyes glinting with calculated malice, didn’t seem surprised. He never did. He watched her, his posture relaxed but the air around him charged with an authority that commanded respect. He had been patient with her, understanding of her pain, and she hated herself for the way she responded to that understanding.

"I’m not here to talk," Y/N replied, her voice steady but hollow. She had long since stopped fighting the darkness that Silco offered. "I’m here because I need to see her."

His lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "You’ll see her when I allow it. You know how this works, little one. Loyalty has a price."

Y/N didn’t flinch. "I know."

But it was a lie. She didn’t know what she was getting into. She was too lost in her need to find Powder, to make things right, even if it meant becoming something she never wanted to be. Silco knew it, too. He had seen the cracks in her, the way the girl who had once been full of hope and ideals now teetered on the edge of despair.

"I want to help you, Y/N," Silco continued, leaning forward. "But you need to understand that to be close to her, you have to do more than just exist in the shadows. You need to prove your loyalty."

"How?" Y/N asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if she had already made the decision, even before hearing the answer.

Silco’s eyes gleamed as he leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping on the armrest. "There’s someone in Piltover who’s been a thorn in my side. A scientist. You’ll take care of them."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time Silco had made such a request. She had already done his bidding—small things, easy things, things that didn’t matter much. But now, it was different. Piltover wasn’t just some distant city. It was a place she had once dreamed of. The city where everything had seemed so full of promise before everything fell apart. Before Powder’s descent into chaos, before the factory explosion that took everything from her—her family, her sense of self, her place in the world.

But all of that was gone. She couldn’t afford to think about the past now, about the people she used to care about. She needed to focus on finding Powder. She needed to prove to herself, to Silco, that she was worthy of being in the same room as her again.

"Consider it done," Y/N said, her voice hollow, void of any real emotion. She had made her choice. She would do whatever it took.

Silco smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile. "Good. You’ll find your way back to her, Y/N. But remember, nothing comes without a cost."

The mission was simple, but the weight of it crushed her. As she made her way into Piltover, Y/N couldn't help but remember the dreams she once had of the city—the idealistic visions of what it could be, what it should have been. The buildings, so grand and beautiful, now seemed like a mocking reminder of everything she had lost. The city had always been a distant world to her, a place that existed beyond her reach, beyond the walls of Zaun.

Now, it was a battleground. Her battleground. The faces of Piltover’s elite—people she had once admired, people she had once believed were different from the corruption she had seen in Zaun—walked the halls without a clue of what she had become. No one knew the things she had done to survive, to stay close to Powder. No one knew what she had sacrificed, the person she had become.

Y/N found her target, but when she saw the figure before her, something stirred inside her. She hesitated, feeling the weight of the weapon in her hand. The mission was so clear, so simple—one more kill, one more task for Silco. But in that moment, her grip faltered. She remembered who she had been, long ago, before everything had gone wrong. She remembered a time when she hadn’t been consumed by darkness, when she had hoped to change things, to find a balance between Piltover and Zaun.

That person was gone. She had died the moment Powder’s bomb had detonated, when everything had shattered into pieces.

With a swift motion, she silenced her conscience and completed the mission. Her hands were stained with blood, but it didn't matter. The weight of her actions no longer weighed on her. She had buried those feelings long ago.

As she stepped back into the shadows of Zaun, the finality of her choice settled in. She wasn’t Y/N anymore. She was something else. She was a shadow, a weapon, a tool. And in that darkness, she would remain until she found her way back to Powder.

Because Powder—her last hope—was waiting for her.

Y/N’s steps were heavy as she walked through the labyrinth of alleys and shadows, the weight of her mission pressing down on her. The blood on her hands felt as if it had seeped into her very soul, leaving an indelible mark that she could never scrub away. The streets of Zaun passed by in a blur, the neon lights flickering like distant stars in a dying sky, the air thick with the smell of oil, sweat, and decay.

By the time she reached Silco’s office, her hands were still trembling, but her mind was set. The moment she stepped through the door of The Last Drop, the world outside fell away. Everything was muted, dim, as if the bar itself was a place of refuge for the broken, the lost, and the damned.

Silco was sitting at his desk, the same cold, calculating figure she had come to know. His expression flickered with mild amusement when he saw the blood on her clothes, but his eyes gleamed with approval.

“You’re back,” he said, his voice smooth and controlled. He didn’t need to ask about the mission. He knew.

Y/N didn’t speak. Her eyes were fixed on him for a long moment before she turned, as if the weight of his gaze was too much. Silco gestured to a door behind him, his posture relaxed but commanding.

“Go ahead,” he said, his tone almost mocking in its calmness. “She’s waiting for you.”

=

Her heart hammered in her chest as she crossed the threshold. The door creaked as it swung open, and there, in the middle of a dimly lit room, stood her.

Powder—or rather, Jinx—the girl she had once known. The girl who had been full of hope, and now, seemed so far removed from the innocence she had once clung to. Her hair was wild and streaked with colors, her eyes a burning mix of madness and grief, the spark of chaos that now defined her.

Jinx’s gaze locked onto Y/N’s, and for a heartbeat, the world outside disappeared. She stared at Y/N as if trying to place her, as if the face in front of her felt like a memory she couldn’t quite grasp.

Then, in an instant, Jinx cried out, her voice wild and broken. Before Y/N could even react, she was pulled into a tight embrace, the younger girl’s arms wrapping around her like a lifeline. The force of it nearly knocked the breath from Y/N’s lungs, but she instinctively wrapped her arms around Jinx, holding her just as tightly.

Everything else fell away. The blood, the guilt, the distance between them—none of it mattered anymore. In this moment, the world was just the two of them, two broken souls that had lost everything, but somehow still had each other.

Jinx’s sobs were muffled against Y/N’s chest, her small body trembling violently, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Y/N could feel the tremors coursing through her, the weight of the chaos Jinx had carried alone. The explosion, the betrayal, the destruction—it was all still fresh in her mind.

"I thought I lost you," Jinx whispered, her voice a desperate mix of relief and confusion, her hands clutching Y/N’s shirt like she was afraid to let go.

Y/N’s throat tightened as she held her tighter. She didn’t know what to say. There were no words that could make this better. But she didn’t need to say anything.

“I’m here,” Y/N finally whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’ll always be here, Powder. I’m not leaving you.”

Jinx pulled back just enough to look into Y/N’s eyes, searching for something, some sign that this wasn’t just another cruel trick of fate. She found it—found the truth in Y/N’s gaze. Slowly, her lips curled into a small, shaky smile.

"Together?" Jinx asked, her voice almost playful, as if testing the weight of the word.

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She smiled back, her heart aching but full in the same breath.

"Together," she whispered.

And in that moment, time seemed to stop. The blood on her hands, the terrible price she had paid, the path that led them here—it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Because they were together again. The last two pieces of a broken family.

Years passed, each one blurring into the next, as the weight of Silco’s demands continued to shape and redefine Y/N. The girl who had once dreamed of balance and hope, the girl who had once fought for a better future, was no more. In her place stood a shadow, a weapon forged from the fires of betrayal and chaos, with every mission, every task, stripping away the remnants of her humanity.

Under Silco’s watchful eye, Y/N became an extension of his will—a blade sharpened to cut through anyone who stood in his way. She no longer hesitated when the order was given. The blood on her hands had long since dried, and the voices of the past—Vander, Mylo, Claggor, Vi —faded into distant memories, replaced by the cold, ever-present weight of the choices she had made. Every night, she drifted into a restless sleep, her thoughts haunted by the ghosts of those she had loved and lost, yet the nightmares no longer carried the same weight. She had become numb to it all.

She was good at what she did. Silco had made sure of it.

Her name, once a source of meaning, was little more than a faint echo now. She had become a tool, a force of nature working in silence, her hands doing his bidding without question. Whether it was eliminating rivals, infiltrating Piltover’s defences, or securing the loyalty of Zaun’s most dangerous criminals, Y/N was always there, always moving in the shadows, her presence felt but rarely seen. She was a ghost in Silco’s world, and that was exactly how he wanted her.

=

It had been three years since that fateful day when she had reunited with Jinx, and in all that time, Y/N had watched the girl she had once known slowly slip further away from the person she had been. Jinx had changed, and Y/N knew it was because of Silco. He had moulded her into something new, something untouchable, just as he had done with Y/N.

Powder was still there—still the spark of chaos, still the wild and unpredictable force of nature—but now, there was something else in her eyes. A coldness, a hardness, as if she too had lost everything in the pursuit of a dream that could never be realized. Y/N had come to accept that the girl she had once fought to protect no longer needed protection. Jinx was her own force now, carving her path with reckless abandon, and while that terrified Y/N in some quiet corner of her mind, she didn’t have the energy to fight against it anymore.

Tonight was no different. Silco’s voice echoed in her mind as she stood outside a run-down warehouse, the chill of Zaun’s night air cutting through her like a blade. She was to make an example of someone—someone who had dared to cross him. Y/N hadn’t asked for the details. She didn’t need to anymore. She was simply the weapon, not the strategist.

The door creaked open, the faint sound swallowed by the hum of Zaun’s industrial heartbeat. Inside, the dim glow of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows across the floor. Y/N moved silently, her boots barely making a sound as she approached the target—a man whose life was now worth less than the contract Silco had signed for him. He was cowering in the corner, a pitiful mess of desperation. His fear was palpable, but to Y/N, it was just another job.

She didn’t hesitate.

The man was silent before she moved, his terror evident as she closed the distance between them. The faint tremor in his breath was the only sound she heard as she pulled the weapon from her belt. It was quick, and it was clean. No emotion, no thought. Just action. Just Silco’s will made flesh.

As she stepped away, the blood splattered across the floor, a dull reminder of what she had become. Another body. Another life taken for Silco’s empire.

=

Y/N returned to the Last Drop in silence, her hands still slick with blood, her heart still cold. She entered Silco’s office without a word, her face an unreadable mask, her eyes distant and void of any emotion. Silco didn’t look up from his desk, but he knew she had completed her task.

“Good,” he said, the word almost dismissive. “You’re becoming more efficient. I’m pleased.”

Y/N nodded but said nothing. She had long stopped feeling anything about Silco’s praise or scorn. It was all the same to her now. A small part of her—the part that still remembered who she used to be—hoped that one day it would be different. But that part was a whisper now, drowned out by the ever-present noise of her duty.

A sound at the door caught her attention. Jinx stepped into the room, her eyes wild and alive, her smile erratic but real. She was a storm contained in a fragile vessel, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel the familiar pang of longing for the girl she had once known.

“Y/N!” Jinx shouted, her voice high and full of excitement. “Guess what I did! Guess! I blew up a whole damn warehouse, just for fun!” She laughed manically, the sound unsettling in the silence of the room.

Y/N’s gaze softened for a moment, just for a moment. “I’m glad you had fun,” she said quietly, but the words were hollow. She wasn’t sure if she was lying to Jinx or to herself.

Jinx, oblivious to the distance that had grown between them, rushed over to Y/N, her arms flailing as she tried to grab her attention. “You should’ve seen it! The look on their faces, the way everything just went boom!”

Y/N nodded, her eyes distant as she watched Jinx in her wild, uncontained joy. She had always been the unpredictable one, the one who thrived on chaos. But for a brief, fleeting moment, Y/N could almost see the younger girl she had once tried to protect, the girl who had held her so tightly and whispered promises of a future together.

But that was before the blood, before Silco had fully taken hold of them both.

Now, they were just two sides of the same coin—both molded by the same hands, both irrevocably lost in the world Silco had crafted for them.

Y/N looked at Jinx, her heart aching, but she said nothing. The weight of the years, of the choices she had made, crushed the words in her chest.

She was his weapon. She would always be his weapon.

And she would never leave Jinx. But they were both beyond saving now.

The air on the rooftop was thick with tension, charged with the anger and pain that had been simmering for years. The sounds of the city below seemed to fade into the background as Y/N and Vi stood across from each other, fists clenched, breaths heavy.

Vi moved first, lunging toward Y/N with a fierce cry, her fist aimed directly at her face. Y/N barely dodged it, but the force of the punch made her stumble back. She retaliated quickly, throwing a punch of her own, her knuckles connecting with Vi’s jaw with a satisfying thud. The impact sent Vi staggering but she quickly regained her footing.

“You think you can just show up and everything will be fine?” Y/N spat, eyes blazing with emotion. “Where the hell were you, Vi? Where were you when she needed you?” She threw another punch, her anger only intensifying as Vi blocked it and retaliated.

“I was trying to save you both!” Vi shouted back, her voice breaking as she swung her fist at Y/N. “I never wanted to leave you! But after the explosion, I was thrown in prison! Do you think I wanted that? Do you think I wanted to be stuck in there while you—while you stayed with Silco?” She punched Y/N hard in the stomach, making her double over, gasping for air.

Y/N straightened herself, barely fazed, though her heart was pounding in her chest. “I didn’t have a choice, Vi! I stayed because I had to stay close to her,” she snarled, gritting her teeth. “I had to stay with Powder to keep her safe! I stayed for her, and look at what she’s become now. Do you think I wanted to become this? A tool for Silco?”

Vi hesitated for a moment, her face contorting with a mixture of confusion and anger. “You think I don’t know how hard it was?” she retorted, her voice shaking. “I was stuck in that godforsaken prison, trying to figure out how to get back to you. And when I finally got out, all I found was the wreckage. All I found was you—changed. And I couldn’t find Powder. I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fix any of it.”

Y/N stepped back, her chest heaving as she processed Vi’s words. “You left us, Vi,” she said, her voice quieter now, but still laced with bitterness. “You were supposed to protect her, too. You were supposed to help us when everything fell apart. And you weren’t there. You were gone, and I was the one left to pick up the pieces.” Her hands balled into fists again, her emotions rising once more. “Do you know what I had to do to stay close to her? Do you know what it cost me?”

Vi’s eyes widened, and for the first time, she seemed to falter. “What do you mean? What did you have to do, Y/N?” Her voice was low, almost desperate, as she stepped closer, her breath catching in her throat.

Y/N’s gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, the memories rushing back. “I had to bury everything I was. I had to do things I never thought I would be capable of. I did it because I needed to stay with Powder. I stayed with Silco, took on his orders—became part of his world—because it was the only way I could be close to her. To keep her from falling deeper into whatever nightmare she was becoming. I had to.”

The words came out in a rush, like a dam finally breaking, and Y/N’s fists trembled at her sides. “I had to make a choice, Vi. And I chose her. I chose to stay with the monster in order to keep her safe. And all this time, I kept pretending I wasn’t losing myself in the process. But I didn’t have a choice.”

Vi stood still, her breath coming in shallow gasps, her mind racing to process what Y/N had just revealed. She didn’t know how to respond. She had spent years imagining what had happened to Y/N, but nothing could have prepared her for this.

“You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to lose myself, too?” Y/N said bitterly, her eyes locked onto Vi’s, her chest rising and falling with the weight of everything they had never said. “I became a weapon, a tool for Silco’s empire, because that was the only way I could stay in the same damn city as Powder. And I stayed for her. But look at me now. Look at what I’ve become.”

Vi shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “I don’t know what happened to us, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “But I’m not going to let you keep falling. I’m not going to leave you again. You are still my sister.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the words, but she shook her head, a pained laugh escaping her lips. “You think you can save me now, Vi?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of despair and anger. “It’s too late for me. I’m already too far gone.”

But Vi didn’t give up. She stepped forward again, this time slower, more cautiously, her fists lowering at her sides. “Then we’ll fix this together,” she said softly, her eyes searching Y/N’s for something—anything—that could prove her wrong.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, her eyes locked on Vi’s, but her thoughts racing a mile a minute. The fire in Vi’s eyes was strong, but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to believe it—not fully. The girl she once was, the one who fought for a better world, was long gone. The person standing before Vi now was a stranger, shaped by the darkness of Silco’s empire, molded by years of violence and manipulation.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Vi,” Y/N said finally, her voice almost inaudible. She shook her head, her expression softening for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve already lost myself. Who I was—she’s gone. I don’t even know how to be that person anymore. What Silco made me... that's all I know now.” Her words were barely a whisper, but they felt like a weight on her chest.

Vi’s face dropped, her hope beginning to flicker as she saw the depth of Y/N’s pain. She took a step closer, but Y/N took a step back, her resolve hardening again, a wall going up between them.

“I’m sorry, Vi,” Y/N whispered, her voice rough with the bitter truth. “But I’m not that person anymore. And I never will be.”

Before Vi could say anything, Y/N’s hand moved instinctively to her belt. She pulled out one of Jinx’s smoke bombs, her fingers trembling slightly as she held it up, feeling the weight of it in her palm. It felt familiar—too familiar. It was the only thing that had kept her alive through the chaos, the one thing she could still rely on.

With a swift motion, she tossed the smoke bomb to the ground, and in an instant, a thick cloud of purple smoke enveloped them both, clouding their vision and choking the air. Coughing, Vi tried to push through the smoke, but by the time she cleared her lungs and eyes, Y/N was already gone.

The rooftop was silent once more, the echoes of their battle still lingering in the thick fog. And Vi stood there, alone, the weight of everything they had said, and everything they hadn’t, hanging heavily in the air.

[259kmvn]

weakness and strength

– baring your heart to kazuha | kazuha x gn!reader comfort fluff

"you're always so put together, y/n! how do you do it?" "wow, y/n. you've grown stronger." "i admire your enthusiasm to keep going."

every time someone says something of this sort to you, you smile and brush them off. it's really not like that, you say. i've still got a long way to go.

and you really do. you're not too sure how people come to these conclusions that you've got things under control. perhaps it's the fact that you always make an effort to smile regardless of how difficult times are. but times still do get difficult for you.

perhaps it's that you try to stand tall when things get chaotic. if there's nothing stable going on, you might as well be the stable one, right? but things still do get chaotic for you.

it's not always that you ponder upon these thoughts. usually, you would push them down and out of mind. you've got more important things to deal with anyway. but tonight, you sit at the top of a hill, heart heavy with the feelings you've been ignoring for so long. watching the moon and stars and clouds drift by.

the moon and stars and clouds- you wonder how many times they've seen your raw feelings already. you wonder how they've seen you the way no one else has, and still they continue to be there. until now, you've only ever allowed them to witness your heart.

"here you are, dove. i was looking for you."

tonight might be different, your heart whispers. a platinum-blond figure approaches your side, calm and unassuming. "can i sit beside you?"

without looking at him, you nod amidst your thoughts. he sits. as soon as he does, a gentle wind blows, and you're showered by the falling leaves of a nearby tree. a stillness follows and the both of you continue to observe the nature around you. you the sky, and him the bustling world below. if the atmosphere was peaceful before his arrival, it's even more serene now.

kazuha seems to do that to you.

it's been a while since you started a relationship with him. you're both explorers of the world, wandering to see what the universe has to offer. you're the one who approached him first. he's the one who confessed. surprisingly, it didn't take long for him to open up to you. you've heard his stories, his grief and anger, and you've even seen him cry. he seems to be completely in tune with his emotions.

you, on the other hand, still need a bit more time.

"kazuha," you call out the name of your partner. he turns to you; noting the little glimmer running down your cheek. he hums in response, preparing to open his heart to receive yours. "do you.." for a bit your voice shakes and you take a deep breath, "do you think i'm- i'm strong? like i've got things under control?"

kazuha scans your side profile. you're still looking at the moon, perhaps fearful to show him your fully vulnerable self just yet. "it would appear so at times," he answers truthfully, "although occasionally you seem to avoid the 'things' you need under control." he's treading carefully with his words while being honest. you appreciate that. "these are mere speculations, however. why do you ask?"

this time you look down. your eyes may land on the nightlife happening below, but you're really looking into the thoughts that reside in your heart. "i just, people tell me these things, that- that they think i'm strong. and i never know how to reply. i get scared, and i.. i honestly don't know why." your voice trails off in a fragile whisper.

you grapple with a wave of fear that is overcoming your chest. it's the first time you've ever said something like this to him, and although you know he won't ever hurt you (because he said so), there's still that fear. that he'll shut you down. or run away.

but he doesn't do any of that. in fact, he doesn't do anything. you turn to look at him, and he's waiting; waiting for you to continue. you see a small smile form on his lips. an acknowledgment- to tell you he's listening.

shifting in the silence, you continue. "i don't know what i'm scared of. i just, i think 'what if i'm not as strong as they think i am?'. or, 'i'm gonna break down soon enough and i can't let them see that.'" your heartbeat wavers as you speak your very fears out for your lover to hear.

"i'm not strong. i'm not strong at all. look at me," you gesture to yourself, finding that your trickles of tears have turned to rivers, "i'm crying over these little things and i've made so many mistakes and i don't know what i'm doing and i- i can't-"

you start sobbing.

you sob like there's molten lava stuck in your throat, and you sob like the weight of a boulder is lending itself on your shoulders. pulling your knees to your chest, you curl in. maybe it wasn't a good idea to do this after all. you definitely need to apologise to your partner for this.

"i'm sorry, kazuha," you mumble into your knees, "i just-"

"i see no need to apologise," he interrupts. hearing his voice feels like receiving a hug- or maybe it's his actual arm draping across your shoulders. rubbing your arm slowly. you sit like that for a while, crying and catching your hitching breath that only leads to more tears.

and then, when your sobbing slows, he asks, "do you mind if i share my thoughts?"

you shake your head, giving him permission to respond to you.

"it is my belief that you have your strengths and weaknesses, as everyone does. after all, is it not that nature shines when it wills, and cries when it wills?" in typical kazuha fashion, he speaks his truth through his love for beautiful words.

"even when nature cries, i would not call it 'weakness'. believe me, dove, you have not seen the dangers of a storm at sea."

you smile softly at that. his light and genuine tone compels you to look at him as he speaks- so you recollect your composure and turn to him, resting your tilted head on your knees. his hand lets go of your shoulder and he places it on a nearby ground, leaning back as he gifts you a reassuring smile.

immediately you're confounded by the brightness in his face, almost like he's reflecting the moon's shine. it's like the moon is still witnessing you, but through him this time.

"i have seen your smile, dove, and i want to keep seeing it," kazuha lays out his wishes. you nod- that's what everyone says, after all. everyone wants to see you smile. "but i also wish to see you cry and be sad. i wish to witness your anger- well, only if it's not directed at me."

you giggle. is it even possible to be mad at a person like kazuha?

"i wish to witness your every emotion, dove." this time, he looks up- at the moon. "i would like you to know that i envy it." he pauses, and you raise your head. eyes still on him.

"it?"

"the moon. how has it seen more of you than i have?" a shocked blush creeps onto your cheeks. "maybe the trees have too, as well as this hill, and the very walls of your home. ah.. i truly envy them all."

he turns to you in a calm excitement- "you will show me, will you not? your thoughts and emotions, strengths and weaknesses? you need not constrain them when you are with me." before you could respond, he continues, "and i will show you mine."

you immediately recall the time he cried in front of you. his is a promise you know he'll keep, precisely because he's done it before he even promised it. you breathe in deeply.

"i will, kazuha," the whisper in your voice is grateful, "...thank you. honestly... you're like a moon to me. my very own moon. i appreciate you, a lot."

kazuha wipes away the weeping teardrops on your cheek, not to stop you from crying but to let you know he's ready to receive them.

"thank you for showing me, and telling me your thoughts, my dove," he says.

a breeze visits, washing away the weight of your heart along with the fallen leaves around you.

"thank you, for witnessing me... my moon."

[pumpkinsy0]

here to hassle you again. what if i asked very nicely for some papercut interacting with curtis gang/ponys brothers. what then? (aka i miss soda and curly fucking with each other while pony just sits there and darry shakes his head solemnly in the background)

ur wish is my command🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

•the gang uses whipped cream a LOT but after curly comes over and took the whipped cream into the room him and pony were hanging out in, literally nobody wants to even take the can anymore, assuming theres whipped cream LEFT. the gangs swears they gotta b licking whipped cream off each other which look, they arent WRONG but its nothing CRAZY its just off each others arm or something, but the gang wont hear pony out💔💔on the bright side more whipped cream for pony!!!

•if curlys gonna b sleeping over like hes part of the gang hes gonna get “part if the gang” treatment. the first and only time curly slept on the floor was when pony slept w him cause they were watching a movie on tv and fell asleep, the gang took each end of the blanket, and lifted them up to swing them around. curly was so mad he aint even stay for breakfast, he wasnt gonna stay for it anyways but he wasnt gonna stay ESPECIALLY then🙄🙄

•as much as soda would love to b nosey and see what theyre doing in ponys old room, yknow practice his older brother right, when he brought girls over, pony would leave him alone and so he gotta grant pony his own privacy as a “thank u”

•darry likes bringing them snacks believe it or not, but when hes preparing em he can bear some of the things they say and it physically makes darry stop doing what hes doing bc like??????what the hell r u guys on about??????

•nobody else makes curly stop paying attention to pony like dally does, w everyone else, curly messes w them to make pony laugh or if he does pay attention to them fully, its not for long!! w dally tho?? it doesnt matter if dally wasnt even talking to curly, curly will talk his shit and get all in dallys face, most of the time curlys hatred will always run deeper than his love for others i fear

•johnnys the exact opposite, hes the one curly ignores the most, curly will casually forget johnny was even w them and hes the one that actually hangs out w pony and curly the most

•dating someone whos related to soda and darry means u get free repairs on ur car and home, curly constantly jokes that pony is his insurance contract. soda hates to admit it,,,but its a lil funny,,,,darry chuckled at the joke he can give curly his flowers

in the scrapbook darrys continued from his parents, soda and darry make an effort to include curly in it, if their partners have been in it, so does ponys, ESPECIALLY his first relationship. so darry and soda do make an effort to include curly in on their small trips, for their parents sake

•speaking of parents, ponys worst moment was when him and curly partially partially made out in his parents/darrys room. only darry knows about it cause the sheets were rumpled up and pony couldnt walk pass that room without giving it a look😭😭. nobodies brought it up and it will stay that way.

•pony being w curly ALSOOO means that the curtis gang has more street cred and their members wont get jumped bc ppl will think twice about messing w a gang that has closer ties to the shepard gang, curly being around doesnt allwaayyyssss have to mean doom and gloom🙏🏽🙏🏽u get semi scary m/unhinged dog privileges

[iamthelemonlord]

Duke of death and his maid au:

CW: // animal death

Lwj gets cursed where anything he touches dies. He discovered his curse when he went out one the morning to his rabbit hutch.

No one had ever heard lwj scream, let alone cry before. When lqr comes running out to see what had happened, lwj was crying over the dead bodies of his rabbits. Seeing him distraught, they had kept coming towards him to comfort him, only to instantly die when they came into contact with lwj.

Lqr walked towards him to ask what had happened and comfort him. Lwj screamed as he saw his uncle come close. "Don't touch me!" His back hit a tree, causing it to instantly wilt.

"Wangji!?" Lqr exclaimed, confusion and horror clouding his features.

Lwj watched as the tree withers and dies. He falls to the ground, confused as to why this was happening to him. His uncle watches helplessly as the grass in contact with lwj shrivels up, becoming lifeless.

Not knowing what else to do, lqr urges lwj up without going near him and rushes him inside the manor. He sits him down and orders the servants to bring him tea and something to eat but warn not to touch him.

As the servants run about, lqr discovered that before this curse had taken hold, lwj had dreamt that someone had visited him and placed the curse on him, their parting words to him were that now no one will be able to truly love him. He'd thought it was just a dream until this morning. This was all anyone could go on. With no way of knowing the truth and no trace of the witch, there was no known way of breaking the spell. They know of none who are familiar with magic.

As he is only the second heir, lwj is taken to a secluded manor and locked away where there is nothing but wilderness. Someone comes by once in a while to clean, but they never stay, fearful of coming in contact with the lord of the manor. All he can do now is search for answers as he rots away alone. The Lan family would continue to provide for him and help with his research but other then that, lwj was on his own.

Try to imagine if you would, a life where you can never embrace the one you love, never once feel their skin against yours. He takes the life's breath out of anything he touches. That was the curse the witch so cruelly inflicted upon him. No animal, human, or plants were except, of course. Regarding his nephew doomed to live his life without knowing the warmth of another, his uncle only complained:

Lqr: That child is like death incarnate!

(Authors note: The last paragraph above and the character line are not my own. It is an excerpt from the English dub of the show. These are not my original words. This narration goes hard, I swear!)

Then, one day, someone appeared at his door, claiming to be his new butler who would be living there from now on. It was wwx who lwj had grown up with, wwx's mother being close friends with Iqr. He was no butler. He didn't have a title, but his family had some land and prestige. Lwj turned him away, calling him insane for wanting to work there. Wwx tells him not to worry. He knows the circumstances and is prepared.

Wwx: Come on, Lan Zhan! We're friends! Let me work here 😁

Lwj: Get lost!

Wwx: Don't be like that! I received permission from your uncle! I'm to stay here and serve you while researching the curse.

Lwj: I do not need help! I am fine on my own! Leave now!

Wwx: Nope! I'm staying!

Lwj slammed the door in wwx's face before he could take a step into the manor. He left him out there thinking he'd get bored and leave soon. Wwx did not leave and stayed sitting on the front steps playing with a stick in the dirt. As night fell and lwj saw that wwx was still there, he relented. He opened the front door and stared down at him.

Lwj: One night, and you're out by morning.

Wwx: Once I take a step in there, you'll never get rid of me.

Lwj: Wei Ying! 😡

Wwx: Laaaan Zhaaaaan! 🙄

Lwj groans in frustration but lets wwx in. Wwx practically skips inside avoiding contact with lwj. He soon makes himself at home and a week later he's still there. Working. Lwj had contacted his uncle only to find that yes wwx was hired by him to help care for lwj and assist in his research. Apparently wwx was an expert in witch magic, specifically curses.

After a heated back and forth with his uncle, wwx was permitted to stay.

He did everything he said he would: oversees the manor and helps with research albeit late in the day since he isn't an early riser. The only issue lwj sees with the arrangement is that the man gets TOO CLOSE to him!

Lwj tends to wear gloves and long sleeves but the curse works through clothes. The layer has to be thick enough that it is not HIM someone is touching, yet wwx seems to not care! One too many times now their noses had almost touched! The man was courting death.

One night while they were sitting together wwx brought up a new topic.

Wwx: we should hire other people. This place is too big

Lwj: No

Wwx: Laaaan Zhaaaaaan!

Lwj: it is too dangerous. Either way, no one besides you would want to stay here.

Wwx stands from his seat and leans across the table, their faces almost touching causing lwj to almost tumble over his seat.

Lwj: WEI YING!

wwx ignores him: What if they can't be affected by your curse?

Lwj: That's impossible. They would have to be invulnerable or dead.

Wwx: if I find someone, will you hire them?

Not thinking he would, lwj agrees with an eye roll.

The next day wwx drags a man to the manor by the name Wen Ning who had been looking for a job. He was from a branch of a prestigious noble family but has been cast out due to being cursed to continue walking the earth after his death. He had died a year ago and now no one but his sister wanted anything to do with him.

Wwx: Your curse stipulates that they have to be living.

Wwx shoves wn towards lwj. In reflex he catch him. Horrified he looks at the man in his arms who blinks back at him.

Lwj: Wei Ying!

Lwj was furious. He righted wn before facing off with wwx

Lwj: That was completely out of line! You could have killed him... again!

Wwx: and I was sure you wouldn't. There's no breath to take. Now what room should we give him?

Wn became the gardener.

After a few weeks a woman showed up to their door announcing herself as WQ, WN sister. She request to stay so she can be with her brother in return she can be their physician and help with the research on curses. At this point lwj has no say anymore and wq is invited to stay The house used to be so quiet and now noise kept filling the space. He may not be able to touch his friends but he could once again feel their warmth. Lwj had become so accustomed to being alone that he forgot he missed being around others. Now he doesnt feel the least bit lonely.

Fin for now.

Kind of wanna do a longer thing with it either way but it's the general idea.

Notes on things to happen:

-At some point wwx gets bunnies that wn cares for in the garden and lwj can enjoy from afar.

-They solve the curse (duh)

- some magic fuckery. Some friends they make alongb the way are witches

- lots of edging stuff (nsfw)

This is very much from an edging type of anime. The original with the maid (Alice) all she likes to do is tease the Duke (very wx coded)

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Hello! How are you? Can I ask for Jason with a reader who is a firefighter and has a son? Jason went to a city for a mission and he gets involved with the fire department after the reader gets him out of a burning building and starts to get closer and develop feelings?

Reader is hesitant about getting involved with someone because of her son and her job, which most of the time puts them in the hospital. but well what is good does not always last forever, Batfam comes to get him. I got a little excited, sorry about that 😓😓 🌸🌸

On The Rescue

Red Hood x Reader

wc: 5.7K summary: Red Hood starts to fall for a firefighter, however, it's difficult warnings: reader has a son (6-8 years old), no y/n used, fire, injuries, light stalking? a/n: this was suggested to me in december and i just couldn't find any time to write, but i finally finished!! and i love this request!!!!! however i don't really feel like giving this a sad ending, so it's pure fluff and a tiny bit of angst. enjoy!! divider: @carnage-cathedral

Black smoke attacks Jason‘s lungs as he tries to catch another drug dealer, who got caught for selling drugs to minors. Unfortunately, the criminal escapes the warehouse fast enough, leaving Jason to slip up and be surrounded by the toxic smoke and furious flames. He ordered his goons to go after him, considering they are faster than him at the moment. As he gets back on his feet, he almost immediately slumps back down, not realising what‘s causing his sudden weakness quick enough. Turns out his mask let the smoke go through, having filled his lungs up already. With struggling breaths, he manages to get to the nearest window, trying not to inhale too much smoke, but it‘s impossible when everything around him is toxic gas.

This is it. Jason figures he can‘t possibly get out of here anymore, just like the last time. He can‘t escape death this time.

You were checking up on your son through a phone call, talking to him and reassuring him that you will be back home soon. As usual, he whines about missing you, wanting to tell you more about his day at school and what he learned in biology today. Unfortuantely, the call ends short as you hear the alarm go off inside the fire department, signaling an emergency. Your dad takes the phone back from your son, letting you know that he has everything under control, before ending the call.

Arriving at the scene, you get chills at the sight of a warehouse being under furious flames. The exteriour isn‘t as damaged, however spikes of high flames are escaping the open crashed windows. Your colleagues make sure the light forest around it won‘t get affected by it, ensuring a possible chain reaction. Getting your heavy equipment ready, you finally start to eliminate the large spots first. Another worker starts up the ladder to get to the second floor, signalling for you to get up there and continue to extinguish the chaotic flames from inside.

As you go up the ladder, you notice a car being parked next to the warehouse, realising it doesn‘t look like it got abandoned here long ago. A rush of adrenaline rushes through you, starting to work as fast as you can. Finally, once the larger flames are down, you climb inside, ducking to search for someone inside. After getting used to the dark smoke around you, the body comes clearer into your view.

You don‘t waste any more time and start to drag the unconscious person out, managing to throw him over your shoulder and climb back into the supporting ladder.

Once outside and in fresh air, you set him down onto the ground and pause once you take him in. It‘s the Red Hood. With a cracked mask.

While your coworkers are busy extinguishing the fire inside the warehouse, you take the opportunity to cover his face with your own gas mask. You make sure to bring the vigilante into a stable position and wait for more back up, staying by his side. His pulse is weak and his breathing sounds more painful than anything else. The only sounds being the fire crackling and the loud process of extinguishing the fire.

Ambulance manage to arrive quickly, quickly taking Red Hood under their wing.

Jason catches a glimpse of your uniform and name card before being pulled back into unconsciousness, falling back into an empty sleep.

You stay by his side as the paremedics take care of him, giving them space. They take the gas mask off you pulled over his head to protect him, growing worried for whatever reason. Once the situation clears up and he‘s stable, you exchange a look with the medics. There‘s a silent understanding among the group, collectively agreeing that no one will expose him at any cost.

The irritating peeping takes Jason out of his peaceful rest, groaning under his breath as he cracks his eyes open. He takes the room in, realising it‘s the hospital and his lung feels like he smoked sixty packs of cigarettes the other night. He turns his head to glance at the heart monitor, noticing it‘s gradually speeding up. A nurse comes in a moment after, possibly here to check on him and figure out why his heart is freaking out. Coming inside, she stops in her tracks before starting to treat him as usual.

»How are you feeling, sir?«

He doesn‘t respond, instead taking more steady breaths and focuses on staying relaxed. Hospitals freak him out, especially when he‘s in a critical condition like this.

»How long was I gone?«

»You slept through the night, it‘s evening again.« She responds kindly and checks up at the machine, reading off his status and scribbling something down into her files.

»You‘re lucky the firefighters noticed you were in the building fast enough. Without her, you wouldn‘t have gotten out again.« The nurse shakes her head lightly in sympathy, seeming way more talkative than Jason likes. There‘s one thing he still wonders about.

Where did they leave his suit at and how is it possible they treated him without any question?

His eyes shoot back up at her, making her tense briefly.

»We left your… costume back in our ambulance. Your cosplay was really good. It‘s got a hole now, though.« She admits, waiting for some kind of reaction. There isn‘t much of a reaction, getting a simple nod in return before he tries to speak up.

»Can I get it back and leave?«

He croaks out, voice still strained from the amount of smoke he inhaled earlier. The other nods quickly, not wanting to argue in the first place.

»Sure thing. The doc needs a final check up before I ca— «

»No... Now.«

Jason interrupts, sitting up on the bed. There‘s a hint of hesitation until the nurse finally nods and gets out of the room, hopefully on the way to give his suit back.

Finally out from the incredibly white and clean building, Jason makes his way back to his small base, making sure not to overwork his lungs at the same time. He lands with a loud thud back inside, groaning as he stretches his muscles out. His goons notice him, Bob greeting him.

»We caught him, boss. Are you okay, though? Did something happen?«

»Did you lock him up?«

Bob pauses briefly before he finally processes his questions and nods.

»We did. Roger is still interrogating him and searches up all the kids he wronged.«

Jason nods in relief and sighs out, stretching his back out again. He dismisses Bob and gets to his private room first, needing a proper shower and another check up on his injuries.

In the shower, he notices a large wound across his side, being bandaged up and stitches professionally. After a careful shower and carefully putting on fresh clothes, he sets into his office and starts his research about the local fire department and the clinic he spent a night in. There is nothing interesting from the clinic, and the nurse that took care of him didn‘t seem suspicious, if not the most innocent looking person he‘s ever seen. Focusing back on work, he searches up the website of the fire department and hopes to find some name that‘s close to what he remembers seeing that evening. Scrolling through the profiles of the staff and studying the group picture, he finally spots a familiar looking person. It‘s all for his safety. No need to be as paranoid.

He clicks on your picture and analyses it, recognising the uniform and jerks up at the crash outside, It sounded like some kind of glass plate fell down, but he wants to check on it, just to be sure. Stepping outside, he can only muster the sight of another one of his goons and his little niece. The smaller child giggles and hides away behind his uncle‘s leg, peeking out to Jason.

Jason blinks, waiting for Charles to speak up.

»Oh, hey Red Hood. We, uh… you know, I accidentally broke this glass, but I‘ll clean up—«

»Don‘t slice your fingers open. And get the other kids away from sharp stuff.« Jason huffs out, mildly annoyed but would hate to show aggression in front of a kid. Without further argument, Jason enters his room, settling into his squeaky chair and focuses back on his computer screen.

⁛

I‘m crazy, I shouldn‘t think too much of it, she was just doing her job and it‘s so obvious that no one would reveal my stupid identity as a firefighter, they could easily set me on fire or worse if—

His inner monolgue cuts short once Bob appears in his room, an uncosciusness body in his arms. A… familiar one. One he has been worried about for what seems like more than a week.

Jason almost gasps dramatically as he quickly off his chair and approaches Bob.

»Bob, I swear—«

But he doesn‘t let him talk and shakes his head, wearing a stupid grin on his face.

»Boss! I noticed your growing concern, so I took care of it. She‘s all yours,« And with that, Jason‘s goon hands over the limp body of yours, settling you into his larger arms.

Jason stills and holds you almost protectively, not wanting to accidentally hurt you.

»Did you knock her out?«

»Just gave her some light drugs. Should go away in an hour or two.«

So, that‘s why he prefers working alone again. Bob, or his goons in general, had always found a way to try and take care of his problems in hopes to get to his better side. Unfortunately, it doesn‘t always work, and they never learn. This is the proof that he should start setting boundaries with them.

Awkwardly, he paces around his office until he places you down on the couch, making sure to adjust your clothes that were wrinkled up from all the carrying around. With a heavy exhale, he sits down on his chair and runs his hand through his hair. He eventually puts his helmet back on and waits for you to wake up, being slightly nervous.

After some tension filled minutes, you finally seem to stirr awake and groan lightly. He watches you stretch your arms lightly, noticing your eyes blink open. At first, you seem peaceful and calm, as if you are waking up at your own home. That is, until you realise it‘s some stranger‘s office. Tensing up, your eyes meet the white slits of Red Hood and you almost jerk up from the jumpscare. Jason straightens himself in his chair and tries to look less intimidating, recognising the anxious look on your face.

»Sorry about this unwanted location change — a miscommunication between my collleagues,« he holds his hand up slightly, wanting to be as nice as he can, »My apologies. So...let‘s start with a question.«

He tilts his head a bit to the side, taking in your expression again. You still seem tense and watch his every move, waiting for something to go down, but nothing happens. It‘s unusually quiet in his office, hoping he won‘t grow awkward.

»Where‘s my son?«

You ask instead, keeping a steady voice. Now, he‘s caught off guard again. He didn‘t know you had a child at all. He didn‘t stalk you enough for that.

»I can ensure you, we do not have him here.« He tries to reassure you, but quickly realises that probably sounds bad too. Fortunately, Bob storms into the office, trying to hold back a kid by his wrist, his breathing ragged.

»What did you feed him, lady?!« He pants out and lets go of your son, letting him skip to you and settle at your lap. Jason watches with a frown, his strong glare even shining through the slits of his mask as he stares at his goon.

Bob catches the sign and steps out of the office, silently closing the door again. Finally, is gaze settles back to the pair in front of him, feeling incredibly guilty to have dragged you into this. Jason sighs out quietly and starts again, sounding more apologising.

»I‘m so sorry… miscommunication. Again.«

You frown at him and keep a frim grip around your son, keeping him close to your chest.

»You should really work on that, maybe talk to your colleagues.« You retort back, making him dip his head in shame. It quickly fades before he speaks up once more, trying to be as polite as possible.

»Again, I sincerely apologise. I can… i could offer you support with your kid and send you some essentials for a month or two, as a proper apology.« He offers kindly and hopes you‘d agree and not fight him, glancing down at your son briefly. Speaking of, he seems rather fascinated by Red Hood. His innocent gaze stays on his red, shiny mask, studying his cool leather jacket and the work table behind him. It‘s all it takes for Jason to soften his expression, ready to spoil your son with anything. Surprisingly, you shake your head and deny his offer.

»No, thanks. I don‘t need help from a drug lord.«

That hurt, Jason has to admit. But he accepts your response and instead watches your son in your lap. Your son looks up at you before he looks back at him, doing a poor job on concealing his curiousity.

Jason stands off his chair and nods towards the door, finally offering a way out.

»I can drive you back. I don‘t trust my colleagues anymore. Where do you guys live?« Without further waiting, he takes a candy bar out of his pocket and hands it to your son, getting out of his office with the pair of you following.

⁛

Jason didn‘t mean to study or memorise the time you went and returned from work, or at what time your son gets off from elementary school. It just happened, after dropping you off at home that night. That means for Jason to regularely watch your son get picked up after school either from your dad or yourself. And it didn‘t mean anything to him. He just wants to keep his identity safe and your son too, at the same time.

You noticed a large bag just outside your door, the morning after he dropped you off, and you considered not taking it inside for a while, until your son came running by your side to investigate too. And you couldn‘t really deny his pleading eyes to take it in and see what‘s inside, to see what mister Red Hood brought by your doorstep.

Setting the bag on the counter, you check the contents of it and glance back at your son, Adam.

»What is it?«

He asks curiously and excitedly waits for you to reveal it, already on his tiptoes. You take in the contents of it, eventually taking them out onto your counter. It‘s mostly essentials like food or hygiene, but there‘s also a toy of a fire truck inside, possibly for your son. Without thinking, Adam takes it, eyes wide with excitement and light disbelief. He goes on to test it out, discovering the siren mode and the way the tiny lights turn blue and red at the same time. It‘s clear that he‘s more than fascinated, and he tried to convince you to bring it to school with him. Obviously, it didn‘t work, but there‘s a chance he‘ll sneak it into his bag pack anyway.

After sorting the items in, you finally manage to get ready for work, but not without taking your son to school first.

While you are at work, you think about the interaction you had with Red Hood just last night. The fact that you rescued him from a burning warehouse was one thing, but getting kidnapped by one of his goons is another. You don‘t want to imagine how they kindapped Adam, but considering how cheerful and awfully normal he is, you assume they didn‘t do anything to hurt him. At least one aspect about the infamous vigilante is somewhat adorable. But the fact that a so called ‘Bob‘ knocked you out on your way home still lingers in the back of your mind.

Meanwhile, Adam gets out of school and decides to walk back home on his own. It‘s not that far anyway and he has his new toy in his hands, that reminds him both of his mom and the cool guy with a red helmet. Walking his way down a street, he is too busy watching the funky lights play on and off at his firetruck to notice a darker figure on the opposite side.

Jason wanted to see who would pick him up today, but no one showed up. It made him feel uneasy, and the fact that this kid is walking alone is making him feel strange about the situation. Finally, he crosses the street and walks a little behind Adam. It may seem creepy from another perspective — and Jason is well aware — but he just wants to take care of the little kid. He is just glad the sun is out today, or else he would definitely get suspected even more.

But before Jason could accompany Adam fully to his home, the smaller boy glances behind him with an arched eyebrow. Seems like he noticed the bigger guy, who looks like a bodybuilder from any children‘s perspective.

»Why are you following me?«

Jason stops in his tracks, not having expected for him to actually turn around and confront him directly. He seemed totally distracted just a moment ago.

»I‘m your mom‘s friend. Remember? I, uh...«

He hesitates on what to say next, unsure if he can actually trust this kid to keep his identity a secret.

»I actually got you that toy.« He finished his sentence and hopes this won‘t make him end up in a cell. Adam, however, stays stoic, his eyes glancing down at the small firetruck. There‘s a moment of silence and an air of tension until he speaks again.

»If it‘s true, then show me how it works.«

He decides, handing over the smaller truck to Jason.

Not even ten years old and this young man knows how to catch a massive guy off guard. But nevertheless, Jason takes the toy and clicks on the button that makes the lights turn on. He also carefully pulls the ladder out that‘s attached to it, showing it to Adam.

»There. Convinced yet?«

In reality, Jason hopes the kid isn‘t convinced, so he can get out of the trouble he is in now. But by the looks of the kid‘s eyes, he seems more than convinced, if not star-struck. Finally, Adam takes back his functional fire truck and takes Jason by his hand, trusting him fully.

Moments later, the pair is back at your home as Jason gets his ears talked off by your talkative son. He tells him about his day at school and the interesting stuff he learned there while showing him the whole house.

God bless, Jason isn‘t one of the evil drug lords.

Now, he spends his time sitting on the floor with your son, patiently listening to him while fixing his toys that broken through the years. It‘s soothing his mind, if not comforting, getting to babysit a bubbly but nice kid.

»Adam? Who‘re you talking to?«

Jason didn‘t even hear the keys jingle at the door or your footsteps. Now he is trouble. He simply hopes you recognise his face from rescuing him that night and won‘t freak out further.

Once you come into view, he awkwardly waves and gives you a polite smile.

Obviously, you pause and keep your eyes strictly on him, the pieces slowly coming together. Adam is oblivious to the tension in your body language and introduces him to you.

»This is Jason! He knows how the truck works and he fixes all my things. He‘s cool.«

Your son nods to emphasise his words and smiles too, proudly showing his teeth. You simply chuckle awkwardly and keep Jason in your sight.

The bigger man simply finished repairing the toy and puts it back on the floor with the other various stuff.

»I‘ll… be leaving then.« He mutters out, getting off the floor, ruffling the little guy‘s hair before walking past you into the hallway. Adam shoots you another smile before returning his attention to his repaired toys.

You quickly follow Jason into the hallway, blocking the front door before he can leave without another word.

»Jason, huh? Did you stalk us and put a tracker in all of his toys, or what? What do you want?«

You question immediately and cross your arms, showing off the light muscles from your work. He has to snap back, not wanting to get overwhelmed by your questions.

»No, God, no… This seems creepy, but trust me, I never harm children. And I accidentally crossed paths with Adam, he just so happens to be talkative.« He realises that will make you more upset, so he tries to save it.

»Uh— you can take a visit to my base, I let the children of my coworkers live with us. Give them shelter. They‘re all sweethearts.«

He shrugs, also crossing his arms while awaiting your answer. You seem to contemplate it, if not actually consider this option. He sees you shake your head, exhaling lightly.

»No, thanks. I have enough stuff to do. Just don‘t cross paths with my son again. Please.«

You watch him nod quickly, taking his boots on again to leave.

After the rather nerve wrecking conversation for the both of you, you return to the living room and sit onto the couch. Adam glances up at you, laying the fixed toys in front of you.

»Look, he did that. He even fixed my favourite, grandpa couldn‘t do that...«

You remember the day your father gave up on fixing that toy, having left Adam sad for the rest of the day. It‘s refreshing to see it fixed up, looking as good as new. Shaking your head, you try to change the topic.

»How was school today?«

But instead of receiving his usual rambles, he groans and throws his head back.

»I told Jason everything, I don‘t want to repeat it. But it was interesting!�� He shrugs and takes up all his toys, carefully carrying them back into his room. He left you in the living room, making you contemplate your previous hate for Jason.

⁛

The next mornings are spent by explaining your son why Jason can‘t come over every day after school to play games with him or show him what stuff he learned in school. Adam has a hard time accepting it, ending up grumpy and a little more sassy than usual for the rest of the school walk.

It‘s not until your father is too busy to take care of your son one evening while you have a night shift. Sighing out and swallowing your pride, you ask your son.

»Did Jason tell you how we could contact him?«

Adam narrows his eyes before he nods, crossing his arms and tilting his chin up.

»But he said only to use it in emergencies.« That‘s new. Blinking, you ask again.

»And where is ‘it‘?«

»On my fire truck.« He smiles proudly, letting you guess where it is. It‘s almost like he‘s turning the tables by also indirectly telling you “I told you so.“.

»...Is it in your schoolbag?« You take a guess and it‘s unsurprisingly correct, making Adam grow a little sheepish.

Moments later, he shows you the emergency button, built in the bottom of his fire truck, making you a little impressed.

»And what did he say would happen if you press it?«

»He‘ll run as fast as possible.«

Right. Let‘s test that theory, your shift is about to start in half an hour.

Adam presses the button and looks out the window from the living room, waiting not as patiently. You stay beside him at the kitchen counter and also peek into the living room, curious as to how Jason will appear in the next few minutes.

The vigilante gets a notification at his wristband and checks on it, recognising the call name he saved on it. Immediately, he leaves his office and makes his way to your apartment, cutting off cars and running over red lights on his bike. He gets there exactly three minutes later, climbing easily in through the window.

His eyes scan over the living room, noticing your head peek out from the kitchen. He approaches, keeping his hand by his thigh holster. »You alrigh‘?« His voice sounds a little rougher than usual, probably coming from his ragged breaths.

You nod and glance down at Adam by the kitchen table, watching the two of you with curiousity.

»Yeah… just wanted to ask if you could take care of Adam while I‘m at work. Nightshift.«

Jason pauses before he snaps back and nods slowly, glancing between Adam‘s poor concealed smile and your sheepish demeanor. But it doesn‘t take much convincing before he nods, eventually relaxing himself.

»Sure. Scared me with that signal though...«

Once you left him a check list for things to do, he is left alone with Adam. Your son seems ecstatic to hang out together with Jason, which doesn‘t surprise him one bit.

First thing on the list is to go grocery shopping together with Adam and eventually eat food, then try to lay Adam into bed not too late. Taking the challenge as granted, he walks to the next grocery shop with the little one and makes sure to hold his hand. Adam insisted to take a shopping cart together, and ended up sitting inside while Jason pushed him around. They managed to get all the needed items and get back home. The little guy helped with sorting the items back into the shelfs and cabinets, while Jason mostly helps him to get to the high shelfs. Safe to say, your son is already having a great time.

They both reheated the meal from the lunch from earlier, eating together at the dinner table with some youtube on Jason‘s phone. Jason feels proud of his achievement, having done everything and it‘s almost bed time for Adam. He never thought that babysitting an elemntary student would be so easy, if not entertaining. Damian, for example, was never like Adam. But then again, he can‘t compare children… especially, since Damian was raised to be an assassin.

»Can we watch some of my stuff?«

Adam cuts his train of thoughts, making him look back at him at the opposite of the table. Jason shrugs and nods, taking his phone again.

»Sure. What‘ve you got?«

The smaller boy smiles lightly and answers him, watching Jason‘s reaction at the same time.

»Do you know Scooby-Doo?«

Jason blinks at his questions and looks up from his phone to Adam, narrowing his eyes at him.

»You know Scooby-Doo?«

Adam nods eagerly and seems to get impatient, wanting to watch his favourite show.

»My mom loves it, she showed it to me. I think that Shaggy is really funny, and I like his dog.« Your son tells Jason with a nod of his head, trying to peek over Jason‘s phone to see if he is already searching it up. The taller guy chuckles softly and eventually stands off the chair, nodding to the bedroom of Adam.

»C‘mon, get ready for bed, and we‘ll watch some episodes.«

The little boy jumps off his chair and gets to his room, eventually changing into his sleep wear and gets ready in the bathroom. Jason gives him some privacy and stays in the kitchen until he hears Adam‘s excited yell for him to get into his room and watch his favourite show. A light smile grows on his face as he enters his room, sitting on the edge of the bed and props up the phone in front of them, letting a random episode begin to play.

Adam pays attention to the show and stays seated comfortably inside his blanket beside Jason. It‘s peaceful and rather wholesome, and Jason tries his best not to dream of having his own kid some day.

After all of the stuff he has done today, Jason‘s eyes grow heavier and his head lays back against the headboard, slowly falling into a light nap beside the little boy. Adam notices immediately but doesn‘t comment on it, considering that he should rest. He takes his phone and simply lays the blanket over Jason‘s lap, sharing his blanket with him. The show gets cut off as Adam shuts the phone down, laying it near Jason, before he lays down too and gets to sleep.

You get off work somewhere after midnight, getting told to go home from your boss, considering it‘s a quiet night. Finally home, you do your best on being quiet, noticing the silent apartment. Seems like Jason took good care of Adam, but you‘re unsure if he actually stayed for the night or not. You offered him to just go back home once he gets Adam into bed, but he seemed determined to stay by his side. As you walk into Adam‘s room, you notice not one, but two people on the bed. The door creaks lightly as you open it further, jerking Jason awake from his rest.

He didn‘t even realise he was asleep. He carefully gets out of bed and tucks the kid into the blanket before he gets out of the room.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, slightly amused at his rather dishevelled appearance.

»Who fell asleeo first?« You joke quietly, making Jason almost get defensive. He releases a soft huff of amusement, rubbing the back of his neck.

»Probably me. My fault, got too comfortable.«

He admits quietly and glances back at the door, before his eyes fall back to yours. You remain quiet for a moment until you speak up again.

»Did everything go well? Nothing happened?« He shakes his head and smiles lightly at the memory of Adam‘s earlier rants and rambles about everything and anything, remembering how talkative he is.

»No, he was nice. Talked a lot.« He reassures you, taking in you in again, »Need help with anything else? You‘re probably tired after work and it‘s...« He scrambles for his phone in his pocket, trying to check the time. But you are faster than him, finishing off his sentence.

»One-thirty. I know, but I don‘t anything anymore. You can go home.«

He hums softly in acknowledgement and tucks his phone away again,taking a brief moment to collect himself.

»Right, then, I‘ll...« He trails off as he gestures to his shoes by the entrance, knowing he should leave already. You nod and step aside for him, watching as he puts his boots back on. He straightens up again and stands before you, feeling rather awkward at the moment. You hear him clear your throat, taking you out of your thoughts.

»Good night… uhm— get home safe.« You tell him as he reaches for the doorknob, pausing in his action for a moment. He nods lightly and finally steps out of the door, stopping to face you again.

»Next time, call me if you need a babysitter.«

⁛

Bruce‘s frown deepens as he works at his batcomputer, doing his best to come up with any excuse to reason the scene he sees before him. It is pretty obvious, there‘s Jason, holding a kid by his hand as he walks down a street. It‘s not Lian, that‘s for sure, so who is this other child? Did he miraculously adopt one? Maybe he was just babysitting one of his goon‘s kids. That‘s probably it. But then again… he doesn‘t look like any of the kids he saw before.

With a quiet grumble, Bruce shuts the computer off and gets to his batmobile, starting patrol. Hopefully, he‘ll meet Jason on the way and confront him about it.

Jason gets on his gear and starts patrol at approximately the same time, starting off his route at the Crime Alley. On the way to other areas, he stumbles across Batman and tries to find another route, but it seems like the Bat is purposfully getting to him. A light groan leaves Jason, but he stays put, eventually stopping and hopes the next conversation won‘t make him lose brain cells. He

»I have questions.«

Batman gets straight to the point, making Jason roll his eyes under the helmet, but he won‘t show his annoyance yet.

»Right. Go ahead.«

He is already expecting some kind of interrogation about the newest deals he made, but Batman looks less tense than usual.

»Who‘s that kid?«

Jason wants to literally throw himself over that building, but it would only make him break some bones. He visibly tenses up but keeps composed, crossing his arm in a relaxed manner.

»What kid?« He counters, trying to avoid the question as best as he can.

»Grey hoodie, probably in third grade, bright red school bag.«

Batman lists off, watching Jason‘s body language closely.

He is in fourth grade. Is all Jason can think of and tries to remain stoic, eventually starting to walk to the edge of the building, making himself ready to get to another rooftop.

»Know nothing of a kid.« And he uses his grappling hook to get to escape to another rooftop, succesfully escaping this confrontation. Batman frowns lightly and watches his son get away yet again, making him once more disappointed. But he won‘t go after him, deciding to give him some space and try to research more on it.

It‘s not until Jason gets back to his safe house, he checks on his private phone and regrets turning it on. There are a few messages from his older brother, frowning in confusion. He opens his chat and blinks, it taking a moment to register what he sees. There‘s a picture of him and Adam, walking down the street, hand in hand. The height difference is funny, even to him, but he focuses on reading the caption.

Didn‘t know you adopted one yourself. What‘s his name, Jaybird? Am I an uncle now?

Jason‘s left eye twitches, and he realises why Bruce confronted him earlier. And he figures that Dick took that picture as well. How could he not notice that obnoxious bastard that day?

He ends up blocking his number, tossing his phone away into the couch.

sorry for taking so long, i had so many things to do and i usually don't take months for a request, but you also gave me a whole storyline that i had to plan through properly. thanks for the request again, hope you have great day/night!!

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