#let the 'i'm the hero but one of my parents was a member of the Bad Guys Club™' trope & its reverse stay in fantasy

[favslarue]

Pro-hero Katsuki Bakugo NSFW inspired by THE DINNER - Billie Eilish

Warnings: Rough sex, stalking, dirty talk, humiliation, cumming in mouth.

English is not my first language, 100% accept advices and correction in the grammar and vocabulary, but please be nice. 🥹

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

You never thought that you would ever commit a crime worst than stealing to eat or getting into fights with other delinquents.

But then he arrested you after you had beaten the shit out of some rich kid who like to go to your neighborhood and pretend they’re dangerous gang members.

When in fact, they’re just being used by the actual dealers, who know there won’t be big consequences for those kids, their parents will just pay the authorities and they will be free to sell those drugs to their rich friends again.

You knew that, you knew that the criminals you know wouldn’t let those people mess with your family, you knew that they weren’t shit

But for some reason, the moment your little brother came home crying saying they offered him drugs.

That one of them tried to persuade him to sell that shit too, saying that “your thot sister won’t have to sell her body to put food on the table anymore”.

That wasn’t truth, but still, your brother believed him for a moment. That fucking moment tou saw red, you couldn’t control your anger.

The moment you jumped that teenager you weren’t thinking straight, you didn’t consider that your brother had nobody else than you.

And that gang of little pussies didn’t dared to do something to you, so they called the cops.

They called the fucking cops, but the pro hero Dynamight came with them. Your neighborhood had a fame, so they thought it was something way worse.

Next thing you know, you are in the prison cell, after hearing all type of shit from that asshole dad, it really didn’t matter if he was the gang member in the picture, you dared to touch that daddy’s boy.

After at least 2 or 3 hours sat there, still feeling the blood pounding in your chest, you hands and knees sore and bleeding. A female guard opened that cell.

- Y/N? got lucky someone paid you bail - The guard said, she clearly wasn’t happy.

- Me? Are you sure - You said confused, you didn’t had a lot of people who cared for you, and those who did, almost didn’t had money to eat.

- Yeah! Dynamight did, even defended you when that kid’s dad were trying to take you on court - She wasn’t telling you that to be nice, she wanted to know what kind of relationship you had with the pro hero.

- The dad almost exploded when the number 1 hero yelled at his child for being a gang member! - She continued, trying to get something out of you. - He threatened to investigate the teenager and his friends. Do you know him?

- No! Never seen him in my life. - Why would he do that? You asked yourself.

Don't be afraid of me, I'm what you need

I saw you on the screens, I know we're meant to be

You're starrin' in my dreams, In magazines

After that, you stole a cellphone, it was easy considering your invisibility quirk, and connected to a neighbor wifi. You needed to know more about that hero. Just out of curiosity.

You followed all the online forums about Dynamight.

When somebody opened a Live video of him saving someone you ran to the place were it was happening, just to see him arresting the criminals and giving interviews

You're lookin' right at me

I'm here around the clock

I'm waitin' on your block

And after that, you followed him home, every. single. time.

Sometimes you even dared to enter his house. The first time, you managed to get in as soon as he opened the door.

After sneaking in, you couldn’t find a way out, so you just spent the night there, watching him, learning his routine. You even discovered his real name, Katsuki Bakugo. You watched him sleep that night.

He clearly was agitated, sometimes he woke up scared and turned the lights on, walked two or three times around the house, to make sure he was alone, checked if the doors and windows were locked.

He was smart to notice something was wrong, but didn’t figure you were the one disturbing his sleep, or so you thought.

You left at morning, when he opened the windows to let the sunlight in the room.

Some weeks later you had already figured every single way in and out, but he was being more careful, he even adopted a guard dog.

It was a huge one, you even considered stopping your visits, but you realized quickly that it was a gentle dog. It got used to your presence very quickly.

Trying to conciliate your obsession and raising your brother was hard, so sometimes you stole from his fridge. You knew he wouldn’t mind.

I waited on the corner 'til I saw the sitter leave

Was easy getting over and I landed on my feet

I came in through the kitchen lookin' for something to eat

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

You were tired of only watching him, you wanted more. You wanted him.

So when you figured he needed a secretary, you took the chance.

Lying in your curriculum, you knew everything that he needed. And honestly, you needed the job.

You even eliminated the other candidates, you didn’t kill them, obviously. Just scared the shit out of them, some even left the estate.

While I'm away, don't read my mail

Just bring a veil

And come visit me in jail

You got the job, of course. And after all that, you can’t back down. You will get what you want. You will have him.

You were in his office, with other employee who were showing you the company.

- This is Y/N sir. She is your new secretary, I sent you a copy of her resume and…

- You can go now, I want to know her better. - He interrupted her.

She looked at you almost saying “good luck” and left.

- I know you, don’t I? Could you remind me where did we met? - He said, his words seemed truthful, but not his eyes… They were daring you to lie.

- You saved me once, but I don’t think you remember that. - It wasn’t exactly a lie.

- Saved you from what? - Fuck. He remembers.

You decided to gaslight him, you wouldn’t destroy what you fought so hard for. You have to make something up.

- Last year bank robbery, I was one of the people that were held hostage. - You thankfully know every single one of his operations by head.

He chuckled, looking at you in disbelief.

- You’re a good liar, but my memory is way better. - You tilted your head, trying look confused. - If the police station were the only time we crossed paths, maybe I wouldn’t remember, but the last months you have been quite present, don’t you?

But please don't call the cops

They'll make me stop

And I just wanna talk

- I don’t know what you’re talking about

He let out a loud laugh, it was dark and scary.

He got up from the chair and circled his tabled. Getting dangerously close to you. You didn’t move a muscle.

He was taller and significantly bigger than you. It was intimidating, but you and your sick mind were thinking about getting pinned under him, held down by those enormous biceps

- It isn’t a coincidence that you always are where I am at, working. I noticed you watching me saving people, every single time. And you always left after me. - He said in a low tone, if he wasn’t so close you wouldn’t hear him.

I'll go back to the diner

I'll write another letter

I hope you'll read it this time, you better

You don’t know that yet, but Bakugo were just as deranged as you are.

When he paid your bail, it was out of heart, but instead of moving on with his life he researched about you, the schools you went, your family, all of your crimes. Things that not even the police knew.

After that, he spotted you on a crowd of people that were watching him arrest a random criminal, more than one time.

Noticed that you didn’t leave even after everyone did, and that you were trying your best to not catch his attention.

You were waiting for something, you were waiting for him.

And after the third time, he noticed you using your quirk, that’s when everything made fucking sense.

All the nights felling watched, the sensation of being followed,

The feminine perfume that just didn’t left his house, his room, his dog, his uniform.

It was you, this whole fucking time.

Bet I could change your life

You could be my wife

He would pretend to be asleep just to hear your steps around his house.

Just to hear you petting his dog and whispering some kind words to it.

Just to feel you coming closer to his sleeping face and stare.

Could get into a fight, I'll say you're right

And you'll kiss me goodnight

- Mr. Dynamight, I just want the job. You’re confusing me with someone else.

In a quick movement he grabbed your wrists and put them behind your back, bended you over his table, and positioned himself behind you.

You tried to set yourself free, but it was completely useless, you could swear that he would arrest you right there and then.

- You’re fucking insane - He said in your ear.

The cops around the corner stopped me when I tried to leave

They told me I was crazy and they knocked me off my feet

You closed your eyes, accepting your faith. To be honest you didn’t regret a thing, at least he sees you now.

Also, his feelings for you are intense, even if they are anger and hatred, that is enough for you.

But a fucking kiss on your neck and he leaning over you was the last thing you expected.

Your body stiffened, you held your breath.

- What are you doing? - You whispered, shaking.

That’s when you felt his hard dick on your back. What the fuck? Was he excited from all of this? Was he fucking crazy?

They came in through the kitchen lookin' for something discrete

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

- You’re not the only one who has an obsession.

He didn’t loosen his grip in your wrists, and continued kissing and biting your neck and sometimes the back of your neck, the kisses were wet and aggressive.

- And I am insane? - You weren’t trying to be ironic, you were just astonished.

He didn’t saw it that way, what lead you to receive a hard slap in your ass, and a hair pull right after.

- You don’t get to judge me, bitch. - He said in your ear while holding your hair tightly.

- I wasn’t…- Another slap, you took that as a command to shut up.

He lifted the skirt of your office dress and grabbed the cheek of your ass, that were red from the previous mistreatment.

He slid a finger into your panties and felt your wetness, holding your clit between his fingers while you breathed heavily under him, trying your best to not make noises.

Suddenly, your thong is on your mouth and he’s kneeling to face your wet cunt, he blowed cold air against it, which made you tremble. He held your thighs with enough strength to bruise.

You bended even more, and he licked your folds, sucked your clit, his tongue swirling around your wetness, creating a knot in your low belly.

His mouth is hot and ravishing, almost like he liked the taste.

- Mhm… Dynamight… - You moaned, not being able to complete your sentence.

And with that, you came quickly. The tension and need was too much to handle. Your trembling legs gave in, almost falling, if it weren’t his grip on your thighs.

You couldn’t process your orgasm and he was standing again, his tip teasing you folds, sliding from your entrance to your clit, and going back to your entrance.

You throw your hips back, trying to cause some friction. But you were held in place, and received a hard smack in your ass, and you could swear he used his quirk because of the unusual burn and the loud noise it made

- You’re a big girl, use your words.

- Can you… mhm. Fuck me? Why are you taking so long?

He chuckled, mockingly - I see you’re not so stupid, what a surprise.

Shoving only the tip, he started stretching you out, you’re not a virgin, but there’s way too long since you were fucked, and you didn’t saw his dick, so you weren’t aware of what expected you.

Only the tip already hurt, if it weren’t for how wet you are it probably wouldn’t fit.

It was clear that Katsuki was holding back, each centimeter entering you was driving you closer to madness. Your pussy is sucking him even more.

Bakugo decided to stop torturing you and shoved it entirely into you. It made you scream and the piece of fabric felt from your mouth.

He started pounding into you, not letting you adjust to his entire length, which is huge.

- Put it back in your mouth, if people hear me fucking my secretary it will be worse for your reputation than mine.

You obeyed, not because you cared about what people thought, that was the reason you were there anyway. His voice ordering you around made it impossible to not comply.

The table cracking, the friction of your nipples against it. Your pussy burning and throbbing as he fucked you from behind, his grunts and his hand on your hips and ass. Your ass sore from the smacks.

All of that helped another orgasm to grow. One of your hands reached for him, he held your wrist and pulled your other arm, to hold them both as he gripped your hair with his other big hand.

You came with that, held your breath and felt dizzy, almost like you were going to pass out. Your pussy had it’s own heartbeat at this point.

He didn’t slowed his pace, in fact it became more frenetic as you did your best to not keep the oxygen from going to your brain

Suddenly, he pulled out. Turned you around and pushed you into your knees.

- Gonna cum in your mouth, doll.

He stroked sometimes as he stared down at you, face with his usual frown, but his lips were parted and eyes darker.

You opened your mouth in anticipation, he grabbed your face, to keep it like that (but also to caress your cheek while doing it)

As he shoot his loads of seed down your throat some spilled in the conner of your lips, his thumb cleaned your lips and shoved into your tongue.

- Swallow it. - You complied - Good whore.

He stared at you on the floor a bit, you looked away, and that made him smile

He lowered to your level, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Caught you off guard when his lips touched yours, his tongue invaded your mouth, in a dominant yet gentle way. Your whole body shivered.

He broke the kiss and looked at you, without saying a word, he stood up.

- Get up - He circled his desk, without letting you see it, he took your underwear that it was above it, and hided it in his pocket.

You got up, fixing your dress and trying to put your hair in place, looking for your underwear, but you were too embarrassed to stay there longer, so you just decided to left without your panties.

Turning around to leave, not wanting to face the consequences, or him.

- Did I say you could leave? - You just stopped there, still not facing him

You feel him stepping closer, until he is behind you.

He put your hair to the side, exposing your neck and smelling you there. You got goosebumps all over your body.

I memorized your number, now I call you when I please

I tried to end it all, but now I'm back up on my feet

- When your shift ends, come to my house. You don’t need the address, right? - And kissed your neck. - You may leave now.

I saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleep

If somethin' happens to him, you can bet that it was me

–3956

310-807-3956

310-807-3956

[cinnamonsikwate]

i have truly not known peace since i saw someone on twitter suggest that namor/k'uk'ulkan's father might have been a spanish conquistador whom fen fell in love with, and that this discovery regarding his parentage would be what leads k'uk'ulkan to renounce his "i want to burn the surface world" ways 🫠

like. if he ever were to reform, it better be because he actually engages with and hears the perspectives of the maya in central america or other colonized indigenous peoples elsewhere in the world. (this would probably still end with someone somewhere getting set on fire though. it is what it is.)

my guy will never have a "favorite colonizer" or go hashtag not all colonizers, let's be real 😭😭 that trauma is deep-seated!

(and also, were we not meant to understand that the man fen buries at the beginning of the flashback is her husband?? like he's just some guy and that's okay!!!)

[barcaatthemoon]

too good to be true || barcelona x teen!reader ||

you learn not to meet your hero the hard way.

all that you had ever wanted since you were old enough to have ambitions was to play for barcelona. every single day and night that you could spend on a field was spent there getting better. that hard work didn't go unnoticed by those around you, and your community rallied around you to get you to la maisa. and from there, you kept your head down and worked hard to make it to barcelona's senior team with your idol, alexia putellas.

the video package and media done when you were announced to the senior squad played heavily on the fact that you were playing with your idol. pictures of you dressed as alexia for halloween or hero days at school were all over barcelona's social media pages. the country seemed to fall in love with you, and they all rooted for the mentorship and possible friendship they hoped would blossom between you and alexia.

the bubble of happiness and excitement was quickly burst when you met alexia. the few interactions you had with before signing with the team were wildly different than the first time you met her as an official culer. the alexia from before had been warm and friendly, even if she was a bit awkward. this alexia was mean, and didn't try to hide the distaste she had for you one bit.

"hi pequena, what are you doing out here?" mapi asked you. the nickname had been bestowed upon you early on, despite you being one of the tallest members of the team. whenever you were little, your parents had teased you about having to buy a skyscraper if you continued to grow the way you had. you stopped around 13 or so, but by that time, you felt like a giant.

"practicing. they told me that i could start in the game against levante if i bring my conversion rate up a bit more at practice," you said proudly. mapi knew the way that you played well, so she knew who you'd be replacing in that game. alexia didn't want to sit games out for rest, not when she felt like she had finally come back from such a devastating injury. still, this was great news for you, so mapi would celebrate with you even if alexia would hate you for it.

"that's great, pequena. i'm so proud of you. i can't wait to see you walk out as a starter." mapi grabbed your head and pulled you down to press a kiss to your forehead. "don't hurt yourself. no pressure, but i'm counting on you."

"i've got this. i know i do. playing with alexia has made me the best version of myself that i can be."

…

"what is this bullshit! this is an easy win, why aren't you playing me?" alexia was on a rampage. several of the girls looked around the locker room until irene and marta stood up.

"alexia, you said it yourself, it's an easy win. you don't need to be out there for a game like this, so just take the rest day and relax. look, it's pequena's first game, let her have this," marta said. it was reasonable, and that only seemed to aggrevate alexia even more. she didn't want to be reasonable about this, she wanted to be angry. it was like she was being replaced by you, which she absolutely hated.

"of course it's about her! it's always about your precious pequena. she'll never amount to anything if you all continue to baby her," alexia huffed. you watched her storm off, unsure of what to do. alexia was your hero, and for her to speak or think so poorly of you was absolutely devastating.

"don't listen to her. you know what, don't even think of her. come on, let's talk strategy," pina said as she pulled you to sit down. you didn't want to talk strategy or do anything. all you wanted to do was run away and never come back. maybe your legendary barcelona run would have to wait until alexia had retired and wouldn't be there to bring you down on yourself.

"i feed you and caro the balls when i can, and if you're tied up and i have room, i run in myself. it's not rocket science, the same play we've been running all week," you said shortly. pina looked taken aback by your tone, but she didn't mention it. she understood what alexia meant to you, and a part of her felt guilty that alexia hadn't ever snapped at her like she had with you. you had done absolutely nothing to deserve alexia's wrath, and yet, the older midfielder seemed to absolutely despise you.

it was hard, but you didn't let alexia's feelings towards you completely ruin your excitement about the game. you could see your family in the stands, everybody cheering loudly for you when they called your name. the hugs from ingrid and pina definitely helped to lift your spirits, both women whispering how proud they were of you before you all took your positions.

you had the support of the majority of your team, but it was easy to get hung up on what you didn't have when it was constantly dangled right in front of your face. alexia was there for the other girls, but not you, never you. it always loomed over you, threatening to make you cry without a moment's notice. and yet, you still worked hard for her approval. extra training sessions, extra workouts, and more effort than you had thought possible all for nothing to show. you decided as you looked at alexia chatting happily with some of the younger subs that you'd give her a reason to hate you if she was so set on it.

…

"what a goal! i can't wait to see you in a spain jersey," cata said as she pulled you in for a hug. you blushed at the compliments that poured in from your teammates. despite the fact that you had just scored on cata during the scrimmage, she had come up to you to congratulate you.

"you might just have the best left foot in the game." you shrunk back as ona put her arm around you.

"careful, she might get cocky," frido teased. she knew better than anybody how unlikely that was. frido swore that she could give you a million compliments, but you never acted like you deserved any of them. you thought that you were just doing your job, even if your teammates thought it was amazing. you wanted a compliment from one person who was very unwilling to give it to you.

"can we get back to the game now? how do you expect to win a champions' league final if we're all just standing around talking all training?" alexia asked. her tone was harsher than normal. you immediately put your head down and started to walk away when cata spoke up.

"we'll win because we're the best. we have the best players in the world here, and despite what you think (y/n) is one of them. she's part of the squad, and you should act like it," cata said. mapi moved in between the two women as they shifted towards each other. it was very obvious that a fight was on the verge of breaking out, which you didn't want at all.

"it's fine. alexia is right, we should get back to practice," you mumbled.

"no, no it's not fine. pequena, how does the way that alexia treats you make you feel?" mapi asked as she shifted to hold alexia in front of her. she forced the midfielder to look at you as you answered her question.

"i don't understand it. she's nice and friendly with everyone else, but she's cordial at best with me. i try to work hard for an ounce of what she gives everyone else. i don't like it, and i don't think i want to play here with her," you admitted.

alexia looked incredibly guilty as mapi let go of her. still, she didn't even try to apologize. she just walked away with her head hung as mapi and a few of the others yelled at her. a part of you wanted to feel good about your teammates standing up for you, but instead you felt like you had caused a lot of useless tension in the team.

that guilty feeling followed you along for weeks. you let it absolutely exhaust you before you realized that it wasn't really your fault. most of your teammates loved and accepted you, and running from alexia wouldn't garner you anything close to respect. she had just walked away from you whenever the team brought up her behavior, and that seemed to be the last straw for you. it wouldn't be easy, but you had to make yourself stop caring about what alexia thought.

[housetargaryenloyalist]

Oh So Sweet

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Summary: Although married off at age three and ten and sent away from Kings Landing, you never forgot your first love.

Word count: 2.7K

Content warnings: Bad parenting? Some self doubt and sadness, and also fluffy flufness.

Little author's note/disclaimer: (feel free to skip this)

I haven't written anything properly in years, which means I am very very very rusty. I essentially wrote this as bit of challenge to myself and I know it is not my greatest work, but I'm still proud of it.

So I hope you will like this! Feedback is welcomed and very appreciated <3

Happy reading!

Six years, that is how long you had been gone from King’s Landing and now you were back to celebrate Jacaerys Velaryon’s 20th name day. You had come as a representative from your husband’s house. He was currently indisposed due to some nasty fever and was too unwell to make the journey, and although you wouldn't admit it aloud you were all too happy to journey alone. Eager to see the man again whom you had loved since childhood.

Your husband was an insufferable swine four times your senior who had essentially trapped you in his estate after your marriage. Not allowing you to leave unless he were to breathe down your neck, it infuriated you.

However this specific name day celebration invitation had urged you specifically to attend, therefore you could not refuse or you would risk the fury of the royal household. Their fury was not one you wished to invoke.

Although it had been six years it felt as though little had changed in the Red Keep, much still looked the same. The same Targaryen heraldry hung the walls and decorated the castle, reminding you with every step you took to whom this place belonged. In case you forgot the dragons screeches outside. Years ago your father had been a member of Viserys I’s small council and had taken your mother and you with him to reside in the Red Keep.

It had allowed you to grow up with the royal children, and in that time you had grown partially fascinated with the eldest son of princess Rhaenyra. You had grown so close to him, the both of you were practically inseparable. Close in age and proximity, it was no wonder you were such good friends. He would take you to see Vermax and promise to take you flying to wherever you wanted to go. Every time he would train, he wanted you there and every time he won, he wanted you to be the first to congratulate him. You told him legends and stories of heroes and warriors of old. 

On your tenth name day the two of you had snuck out of the party to the Godswood, it is there under the glowing moon you were discussing the future when Jacaerys had let something slip. “I want to marry you,” he had whispered in a soft voice, almost as if he hadn’t meant to speak it out loud. In response you took his hand in yours as you whispered back “I want that too.”

By the time you were three and ten your mother had discussed a potential engagement between your two houses with Rhaenyra, who hadn’t seemed opposed to it. However, this discussion between the two of them had angered your father. He didn’t want his only daughter to marry a, what in his eyes looked like, a “bastard”. It prompted him to marry you off as soon as possible.Not even two months later you were wed to some lord in the Reach far away from King's landing. It was a sad ceremony and it resulted in a sad marriage.

Early in the evening a knock at your door roused you from your sleep, the handmaidens from earlier had come back to help you get ready. They carried several boxes each revealing a different dress, in various different shades.

“What are these?” You asked as you examined the fabrics up close, they all looked to be of highest quality but you recognised none of them, they were not gowns you had taken with you.

“Courtesy from prince Jacaerys my lady,” one of the handmaidens replied, her answer leaving you shocked. Jacaerys bought you these gowns? Your heart fluttered at the thought and you couldn’t keep your smile at bay. You looked through the many options, there were dresses in shades of purple, pink, red, green.

There was even a gown in the signature black and red of the Targaryen’s, no doubt intentional from him. After a while you settled on one, the fabric feeling soft against your fingers and you had a feeling Jacaerys would be pleased with your choice.

“I choose this one.” You turned to your handmaidens, they nodded and helped you with undressing and then helped you put on the new gown. Afterwards you sat at your vanity as one of the handmaidens did your hair and the others put the other gowns back into their respective boxes. It didn’t take long before you were ready, your hair beautifully done and all the gowns put away, meaning it was now time to make your way to the throne room to join the others in the celebrations. 

The throne room looked amazing, there were tables laid out with food and wine, a large chandelier illuminating the room alongside the various candle holders. Nobles from all over Westeros were gathered here today and were mingling amongst each other. You hadn’t seen a scene so grand since the wedding of prince Aegon to princess Helaena, and even then it had not been so grand. Your arrival was announced by a courtier and as you descended the stairs you looked to the Iron throne.

Rhaenyra Targaryen sat on the throne looking as regal as you remembered her, on her left stood Alicent Hightower with her three children. You were slightly surprised the four of them attended the celebrations especially after the usurpation attempt. Although it was a short lived attempt it was still a shock for the entire realm and you were relieved to see that they all seemed to be on decent terms with each other.

King-consort Daemon stood on the right side of the queen alongside his two daughters and his two youngest stepsons. You almost didn’t recognize Joffrey, he had been so very young when you last saw him, too young for him to remember. With a pang to your heart you made your way to where they served wine and asked for a cup.

The servant handed you your cup and as you were taking your first sip the crow dispersed, the servant who had just a few moments ago announced your arrival now announced the arrival of the guest of honour. “Prince Jacaerys Velaryon of House Velaryon and House Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne.” Your eyes immediately darted up to where he stood and as you laid your eyes upon him, your breath left you. 

Jacaerys Velaryon stood in the entrance to the throne room dorning targaryen red and black, standing tall and proud. His brown curls framing his face and making him look all the more handsome. You watched him make his way through the crowd as applause followed, echoing in the large room. You felt your lungs constrict, he looked so handsome, he looked even better than how you had imagined him all these years.

It almost felt as though the Gods were taunting you. It felt unfair, so so unfair. You drank more of the wine, letting the alcohol flow through you in an effort to feel more at ease. However it had much the opposite effect.

The crown prince gave a short speech in which he thanked everyone for coming and wished everyone a pleasant evening. For a short moment you could have sworn your eyes locked but you could not be sure.

Soon the crowd made way for the crown prince and Baela Targaryen, who were going to be the first to dance as was custom. You knew it was illogical but a bitter part of you thought that it should have been you, you in his arms dancing and laughing. It should have been you standing by his side, touching his arm, caressing his face.

You drank more of your wine, before long your cup was empty and the dance had ended with applause from the attendees. The band started a new number as the prince and princess disappeared in the crowd, other dancers swarmed the floor and you felt it to be in your best interest to find some fresh air. No one was paying attention to you as you slipped through the doors, at least, that’s what you thought. 

There was a small balcony not far from the throne room, it overlooked the water and the crashing waves hid any sound from the party. You leaned against the rails as you tried to hold back tears. All these years being locked away in an estate of a man you didn’t love, with no one to keep you company.

Just for you to return to where you had longed to be and feel equally out of place. It hurt, it hurt a lot. The angry waves crashing against the shore mimicked your own frustration, you were so engrossed in watching the waves and their endless assault against the shore, you did not hear the footsteps approaching. 

“I hope you’re not planning on jumping.”

You turned around faster than light could reach earth, the voice sounded so familiar yet deeper and more mature. Your breath caught in your throat

“Jace?” You whispered to the man in front of you, convinced you were dreaming. He looked even more magnificent up close, full lips and strong brows and fair skin. Jacaerys smiled at you before stepping closer. “Yes Y/n,” his hand reached out to touch your cheek and you instinctively leaned into the touch, closing your eyes. “It’s me.”

His hand wiped away the tear that escaped your eye, and as you opened your eyes again he stood so much closer. “I missed you,” you spoke as he stepped closer. “I missed you too.” His arms encircled you and you were pulled in a strong embrace “I missed you so much.”

He buried his face in your hair as he cradled you against his frame. You stood there for a while, clinging to him as though he were to disappear if you let go. The waves continued to crash against the shore, the nobles continued dancing and the music kept playing, regardless of everything at that moment it felt as though time stood still, just for the two of you.

However, you knew this wasn’t appropriate. If anyone saw you two, it would damage both your reputations, yours more than his. You retreated your hand and put it on his chest, intent on pushing him away, although you knew it would be futile.

It was you who pulled away first, although you couldn't go far. Jacaerys’ training paid off because you could not escape his arms even if you had earnestly tried. You looked into his eyes, now it was your turn to cradle his face. He turned his face slightly sideways before planting a soft kiss to your palm, a content smile gracing his face.

“We can’t Jace.” His eyes opened as pressed you closer to him. “Why not?” “It’s improper.” He laughed in response. “Why?” You slapped his chest softly  in jest, and looked at him. “Because I’m married, Jace, so we really really shouldn’t continue.” Instead of pulling away as well, he cupped your face and lowered his own face so he could look deep into your eyes.

 “I don’t care,” was all he said before his lips met yours. It felt odd to be finally kissing the man you had pined after for so long, it felt like a gift from the heavens, and it was gift you were going to cherish forevermore.

He left your lips briefly to whisper something only for you to hear, “I love you.” Before you could respond, his lips went back to yours and his hands cradled your face to prevent you from leaving. The kiss was sweet, sweeter than anything on this earth. Sweeter than the cakes in the banquet hall, sweeter than any fruit you had ever tasted. It was so sweet, you knew you would be addicted before long.

His hands left your face and travelled down to your back, pulling you closer to him. The kiss felt heavenly, his lips soft against your own, it was like life was brought back into you. You kissed back with vigour, your hands reaching for his neck where they crossed over one another.

Jace was quick to deepen the kiss, tugging you closer to him as if he was planning on devouring you. Your heart was racing a mile per minute, and you couldn’t help but let your hands travel. On instinct they found their way into his soft, brown curls. A soft moan escaped him as you lightly tugged on the curls, at this you smiled. In response Jace gathered your skirts and hoisted you up so you were seated on the balcony, your legs crossed behind his back on instinct. His hands travelled up and down your sides, almost tugging at the fabric so hard it would rip.

You pushed against his chest when it felt as though you were going to pass out, you needed to breathe as did he. He parted to let you breathe, and he let his head fall to your forehead. A bright smile on his face as his chest fell up and down in quick succession, mirroring your own. It was he who broke the silence between the two of you after a few moments. 

“Never leave again,” he whispered as he started trailing kisses from your cheeks to your neck, and as you opened your mouth to reply, he sucked on a specifically sensitive spot on your neck. A moan escaped your lips as a result and you could feel his smile widen against your skin. You giggled softly, “I won’t.”

He continued to lavish your neck with kisses as he did so, you could hear loud footsteps approaching, and a variety voices talking over one another. If they passed by and saw you in this position with the heir to the throne, you didn’t want to think about what was to ensue. 

“Jace-” your hands tugged on his hair, which resulted in a gorgeous moan escaping his beautiful lips -” Jace, we should stop,” you said, hand caressing the curls you had tugged on. He grumbled before raising his head, and you let your hands fall to his shoulders. “Why do you want to stop,” he asked, “did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head, “We’re too exposed, anyone could walk in on us.” You glanced to the hallway and now it seemed that Jacaerys heard the same voices that you had heard moments prior, however now they were growing ever closer. He helped you down from your position and straightened his tunic.

“We should continue this elsewhere.” At this you let out a giggle, “bold of you to assume we will continue.” The puppy eyes he threw at you in response were enough to make almost any person swoon and fall for his ploy, but you needed to remain strong. “Jace I’m serious, I am married, continuing this would be most unwise.”

He took your hand in his, and looked you in the eyes, “I promise you this." His thumb stroked over your knuckles as he continued, "I will have your marriage annulled. I will beg my mother to do it and then-” he placed your hands on his chest, ”then we can marry, as was always the plan.” You smiled at him and softly caressed his chest. “I would like that.”

The voices in the distance disappeared and emboldened you to give him a small peck. “I should return to my room now.” He nodded in return, “I shall escort you.” You shook your head with a smile. “You should entertain your guests. They will wonder where you are.” He sighed, because he knew you were right. “Very well then. I shall see you on the morrow.” You smiled and nodded before departing to your chambers.

Once at your chambers you noticed something sitting on your vanity, a small raven scroll. Upon closer inspection it appeared the letter was sealed with the crest of your husband’s house. You opened the scroll and dropped it as soon as you read its content. You followed to scroll in its descent on the floor, shocked breaths falling from your lips. The content from the scroll laid bare for all to see. 

Dear lady Y/n

It is with great sadness that we inform you that your husband has succumbed to his fever, passing away in the late hours of yesterday eve. We pray for you well being and eagerly await your return.

With regards

Maester Tansen

[little-pondhead]

So, for the Supervillain Danny and Everlast Trio Villains Au's....

What about Jazz?

Since I understand everyone's villain alter ego is based around their trauma and becoming their own antithesis and what not, I'd like to think that Jazz's alter ego would be a bad girl, kinda like Ember and Kitty (the former who mind controlled her twice and the latter who almost took her place while slowly corrupting her), maybe with a hint of Spectra (the school councilor thing, the hospital thing, and that one time with all three of them).

Instead of being the nice, normal girl who tries to be perfect, she's a loose cannon who does all the wild teen stuff, doesn't care about anyone accept for those who are in her 'gang', and will absolutely resort to violence the first chance she gets. Maybe she also has some kind of mind control powers, given how these incidents relate to her being under someone else's control.

Maybe she doesn't come around as often, because she has college and the like, but once she does, things get messy as she takes the chance to let out all her school related stress.

you have read my m i n d

Jazz had almost no childhood since she helped raise Danny from a very young age. She's intelligent and respectful and really wants to be an excellent example for Danny, so she acts as such. Therefore, Jazz never got to go through her 'teenage rebellion' phase. She wears modest clothes and upholds a pretty solid moral code. So here I present Nightingale, the punk-rock social justice warrior who comes and goes like a hurricane. She takes on the name Nightingale to avoid confusion, but once the JL realizes she and Fenton are related, some of the members consider going on a very long vacation to another world so they don't have to deal with this shit.

Now for her powerset, I'm not entirely sure if she should play meta or not. It's a common trope in fics that Jazz has been ecto-contaminated from her parent's experiments, thus giving her some sort of body enhancement. I played on that to give her a set of ears and teeth that match Danny's. She may not have ghost powers, but if she's fighting alongside Team Phantom, she must have some freaky abilities, right? (I love the mind control idea, btw) I feel like Jazz would be the Exception, where she's obviously enhanced in some way, but it's not an obvious power she can consciously separate herself from. It's like trying to tell your body to stop using your eyes. Unless other outside forces are preventing it, Jazz can't really not use her enhanced strength or speed. It drives the JL nuts because either Nightingale is a very weak meta or just an Olympic-level teenage athlete, and no one will spill the beans.

Also, this is personal preference, honestly, but I think it'd be really fucking funny if the DC universe is where Jazz and Danny have all their sibling fights. At home, they have to put up a united front so their parents don't get suspicious and the house doesn't kill them. (Also so none of the rogues takes advantage of their anger at each other) But they're siblings. Even if Jazz and Danny are the best of friends, they have to have arguments over the stupidest stuff. That's practically rule number one of having a sibling. So they go there to blow off steam and duke it out like they've always wanted to. It's mostly to release tension and stress, but each fight is getting more and more elaborate, and this whole thing is ridiculous. None of the heroes get paid enough for this. They're just gonna sit back and watch the show.

[cerealboxlore]

Billy Batson related question, as always! How do you think the League would react to Black Adam knowing who the Captain is, especially when they don’t even know? (The relationship between Billy and Teth doesn’t matter, they could be allies or enemies).

Billy Batson related questions are my personal favorites!

The idea of the Justice League not knowing who Captain Marvel's secret identity is always makes me giggle :D it's the layer of mystery and unknown danger that presents itself behind not knowing who the Big Red Cheese is that keeps them on edge sometimes. They admire their friend, but sometimes they do wonder, are they his friend? What is he? An alien? A human? A monster beneath the disguise of a man? Three kobolds in a trenchcoat? Nobody knows... They do wish to get to know their friend better.

Normally, most league members have their secret identities kept, you know, a secret. With the exception that Batman knows, of course. However, even he remains stumped on this mystery. He doesn't enjoy not knowing who Captain Marvel is behind the boy scout smile he often shines, but Batman is determined to find out one day. There's almost some respect for how well the Captain manages to hide his identity and tracks.

Meanwhile, Billy is surprised he's lasted this long with a secret identity. He's working with a braincell, half an oreo cookie, and a dream.

I got sidetracked, ack! Okay, so the relationship (depending on which version of Captain Marvel and Black Adam you are familiar with) is almost always going to be personal. There's their shared relationship with the wizard Shazam, but the one I'm most familiar with and enjoy is Black Adam being the one to have killed Billy's parents. (Also, I appreciate you separating the identity of Black Adam and Teth!)

It would be absolutely amazing and gutwrenching to see Captain Marvel shake hands with a "reformed" Black Adam, possibly during a public setting with the JL in attendance, fully knowing the truth behind his parents murders and still going through with the painful decision to let him go unpunished.

For Billy, this hurts. On a deep level that scars his heart and soul for allowing his parents deaths to go unavenged. For the years of pain, he spent alone on the streets homeless and separated from his twin sister, none of it can be fully healed no matter how hard he tries to forget. Scars fade over time, but to Billy, time is eternity. This pain will follow him for eternity.

However, as Captain Marvel, he understands that there's more to the situation that he can't control, and fighting Black Adam would only make things worse. With the wisdom of Solomon, he knows he can't justify a fight against the ruler of a nation, no matter what. So he just smiles for the camera and shakes the hand of the man who orphaned him.

It is through holding Black Adam's hand that the thought passes through his mind: the hand he's holding right now was once stained with the blood of his parents.

Then, the heroes are given a moment of privacy to be around each other without the public's eyes or ears to interfere, and that's when **** hits the fan.

Captain Marvel is avoiding Black Adam, understandably, but when Black Adam loudly calls out his name among the other heroes, Billy can't help but feel rage boil inside his divine blood.

"William. I thought you knew better than to ignore others when they're trying to talk to you. Such rudeness, I am most glad your parents were not the ones to raise such behavior in you."

Whispers among the league ensues. Was that the Captain's name? Did Black Adam know Captain Marvel on a personal level rather than just a regular hero and nemesis level? Despite the eyes watching them, waiting and prepared to step in case of a fight, the Captain grits his teeth and, through miserable eyes of a broken man, chooses to smile.

"Yeah, they really were good people, Adam. I may not live up to their expectations, but I do live for them. Every day. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

"Your gratitude is most welcome, William. May one day come where you live for Mary and Frederick, as well. They would appreciate you honoring them."

Through a wicked smile, Black Adam chuckles, turning his back to take his leave back to Khandak. Leaving Captain Marvel still smiling all alone, his fists at his side curled with rage, drawing his own divine blood from the intensity of his own strength.

After that, the league would be in all rumors and whispers about Captain Marvel. From the past, they knew that Black Adam was fond of taunting the Captain with strange and mean words during their harrowing battles, but had it all been a personal dig at him all this time? Did Black Adam have a hand in accidentally giving Captain Marvel the motivation to become a hero?

Superheroes like Batman would immediately be looking into any information they learned from this and try to decipher what is the truth behind the Captain. Or should he say, "William," now having a name to the face of the hero of Fawcett. He would also be investigating Black Adam far more closely now, should the reformed man ever step out of line. If he heard right and Black Adam had indeed killed the Captain's parents, then he needed to keep an eye on Captain Marvel, too. In case of a breakdown or instability in emotions.

On the other hand, heroes like the Flash and Superman would take the time to visit the Captain in his city and check on him. They'd be concerned after seeing how pained Captain Marvel was. If a villain like Black Adam knew who the Captain was and specifically chose not to reveal his true identity to the public and just the Justice League, then perhaps there was more to it. Superman knew as well how painful it was to let a guilty man go free because he was deemed "reformed" in the eyes of the public (Lex Luthor, ew).

Overall, there would be a whole range of emotions after finding out Black Adam knows who Captain Marvel is. And I am here for it!

[musings-of-miss-j]

the magician and the sparrow

a lyney x reader fic

notes: fluff fluff soooo much fluff, lots of plot too though and a sprinkle of angst to taste, set in the canon genshin universe but follows a fictional turn of events, they/them pronouns used for reader but they do wear makeup/skirts

author's notes: this was so much fun to write i fear also please don't hate the closing scene guys i'm so bad at romance

word count: 7045 bc i am simply incapable of anything less

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘

You and the other members of the wandering troupe were always awake at the crack of dawn, when the watery sunlight spilled over the edge of the horizon and dappled every surface with a splash of muted gold, when the earliest and most ambitious of birds let loose their melodic cries. Similarly ambitious and hardworking, the troupe’s grandmaster and magician extraordinaire Lyney personally barged into every compartment on the train to make sure the entire crew was ready for the ridiculously early rehearsal he’d insisted on carrying out. You were less than thrilled with the prospect; normally the troupe’s mornings consisted of checking on props and skimming lines over cups of coffee, while a full-on rehearsal brought about a set of much more trying procedures. Like putting on the finicky, elaborate costumes and doing bloody stage makeup.

You stifled a yawn as you threaded your corset with red ribbons, tailored to match the troupe’s current colour scheme of reds, teals and blacks, your fingers constantly missing the grommets and making you considerably frustrated. With a curse, you dropped the corset and ribbons and muttered a simple spell under your breath so it would lace itself up while you struggled with the sheer black tights you wore beneath your skirt. Really, it was a miracle none of the troupe members had killed Lyney for enforcing such senseless appointments, and you were stewing over the inconsiderate nature of his scheduling when he knocked against the doorway of your compartment as you wriggled into the corset and tightened the lacings. You shot him a withering glare through your ancient, gilded mirror while you applied a swipe of lipstain. He grinned back.

Lyney and Lynette had started the wandering troupe, now known throughout the lands as Cirque Extravaganza, when they were only fourteen years old. They were prodigies, plain and simple, and they’d built themselves a considerable reputation and a proper troupe to boot in the past few years. You were one of the oldest members. After running away from the overbearingly aristocratic  Lawrence family in Mondstadt you’d snuck onto their train and bartered with Lyney for passage to Inazuma; one of the rare moments where you appreciated your parents for forcing you to conduct political debates as a child. You were eleven years old on that fateful night when Lyney, only a handful of years your senior, threatened to throw you off the moving train. Now you were, and you quote, ‘an indispensable member of Cirque Extravaganza.’

“Lyney, I hope you’ve been told that you’re an utter ass for this,” you said, pulling on your gloves.

“By the nineteen other people on this train save for my darling sister, who called me a name I’d rather not relay in your presence,” he replied. He never really shrugged off the magician persona, you’d realised; even after a show, the instinct to sweet-talk and smooth over the rough edges of his words with fanciful phrases was always imbedded within him. A stark contrast to your own matter-of-factness; after spending a decade of your life weaving your speech with meaningless niceties you gladly embraced the chance to bluntly speak your mind.

“Your sister is the hero this troupe needs,” you muttered in response, sitting on the floor to lace up your shoes. They were probably your most prized possession after the diamond jewellery you stole from your parents when you ran away; the soles were carefully inscribed with a charm of balance to protect you on the tightrope, one of the first spells you’d ever written, and the laces you’d spun by hand from the finest spider silk that cost you a month’s worth of wages while chanting an invocation of grace that Lynette had taught you.

Well worth their weight in gold.

“Every day you awaken with the intent to wound my heart, it seems,” Lyney mourned. You didn’t miss the hint of amusement in his tone and the twinkling in his eyes; years of travelling and performing together left you as open to each other as books.

With a final tug, you tied the laces of your shoes into place. “Be grateful I only choose to wound it figuratively rather than literally.” You rose to your feet in a fluid motion that came as naturally as breathing, tipping the brim of Lyney’s top hat over his eyes as you walked past. He chuckled under his breath, watching you hop down from the train and scale onto the makeshift tightrope. The little clearing by the train tracks bustled with activity, from stunt performers swallowing swords, contortionists folding themselves into impossibly small boxes, vision holders shaping flames and water and crackles of lightning into beautiful patterns and illusionists practicing their tricks in front of mirrors, making horns grow out of their skull only to retreat moments after and pulling colourful handkerchiefs from their noses.

You stepped onto the tightrope and walked across it a few times to warm up, then began your newest routine while the mechanics of the troupe finalised the model stage. You heard Lyney’s voice calling out advice and instructions, Lynette close behind him tweaking costumes and props and correcting people’s forms as she strode past. They made a fantastic duo, and the Cirque Extravaganza flourished under their guidance. You used to wonder how a pair of fourteen year olds had such a remarkable grasp on magic and leadership, until on the night of Lyney’s eighteenth birthday when he got black-out drunk and revealed that this was part of their ‘training’ to become fully fledged members of the Fatui. You’d stared at him, slightly shocked but mostly worried that he wasn’t meant to reveal this information; to your dismay, he’d kept talking, explaining how their ‘Father’ adopted them before leaving them to fend for themselves once more to prove themselves worthy. He’d grabbed the ruffled sleeve of your old costume and pouted when you’d tried to leave before he could divulge anything more, and you found yourself powerless to resist his drunken pleas. You learned more than you’d wanted that night.

Now, a few years later, you sprinted across the tightrope with the troupe’s yelling and pacing back and forth stretched out below you. You heard Lyney release an ear-piercing whistle, and a flock of snow-white doves emerged from the trees, flapping their wings and chirping back at him. You paused mid-motion to watch them, frozen on the tightrope and eyes glazed with wonder; no matter how many times you saw Lyney pull this exact trick, you couldn’t help but be amazed. How you envied birds and their unfettered freedom; you could swing from a trapeze and dance across a tightrope all you wished, but you’d never have wings of your own to unfurl and take to the sky with. It brought a half-hearted, melancholy smile to your face as you watched the doves flutter across the achingly blue sky in perfect formation again under Lyney’s guidance. You still didn’t know how in Teyvat he’d managed to train them.

The rehearsal went off without a hitch. In everyone else’s opinion, at least; the troupe’s magician extraordinaire insisted that there were still a few wrinkles that needed ironing out. You had to resist the urge to throw your shoe at him when he asked why you did three flips in the air rather than four, and only refrained because they were too valuable to accidentally ruin.

“I’d like to see you stay in mid-air long enough to pull off four backflips,” you’d retorted, grumpy thanks to the post-session muscle pains. The dent in the back of your knees was redeveloping the mottled bruises that rarely faded from the press of the trapeze’s bar, and every inch of your body throbbed. You loved it. You hoped this would be the rest of your life.

“Ah, mon moineau, I’m but a humble magician!” He protested with a grin. “How could you possibly expect me to ever compete with your boundless grace?”

You groaned, lying back on the grass to stare up at the setting sun. Rehearsals were no joke; it had taken almost twelve hours.

“Shut up, Lyney. I’ll give you four flips onstage tomorrow. And a fist to your face right now if you don’t stop nagging.”

“So generous,” he replied, collapsing next to you on the ground. You watched the sky darken from blues to oranges to dusky purple, and he watched the same colours reflected in your eyes. Infinitely more beautiful than any sunset, he thought. The familiar snapping sound of his cards brought you out of your thoughtful stupor.

“Pick a card, any card,” he said in his stage voice, the one that oozed charisma and urged the listener to believe him, trust him and his magic. You reached over and pulled out a card from the deck without looking; this little ritual was something of a routine. While Lyney could easily find the card you picked with his magic alone, he liked to practice genuine sleight of hand in private, with you or Lynette. Lynette, while her magic wasn’t quite as flashy as Lyney’s, was much more skilled in sleight of hand than him and frequently criticised his technique. Sometimes Lyney just wanted a starry-eyed member of the audience to applaud him, and while you were resolutely unmoved by his charm he knew you enjoyed his little displays. So he graciously accepted your compliments when he correctly picked your card.

“The magician extraordinaire strikes again,” you remarked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Yet he can never strike gold when it comes to what he truly covet; the heart of his beloved.”

You cackled unabashedly; that was definitely one of his cheesier lines. With a bracing smack to his shoulder, you rose to your feet.

“You’re losing your touch, old man.” You stretched your arms above your head, then loosened your hair from its elaborate up-do and made your way to the train before night could fall in earnest.

“You wound me so, ma cherie,” he said, putting on a rather good show of looking distraught. Still, the amused twinkle in his eyes didn’t escape you.

Lyney was a chronic flirt, plain and simple. You supposed it came with the trade; magicians were masters of deceit, after all, convincing the audience to see what they wanted them to see and nothing more. Such a philosophy could be applied to many other circumstances; he could make people feel wanted, desirable, with a few well-placed honeyed words. Besides, Lyney liked flirting. He found it amusing, an enjoyable and effortless little pastime that he frequently employed to get what he wanted, whether that be an additional attendant for the night’s show or a dance partner at the latest ball. So you didn’t take it personally; Lyney was a chronic flirt who could flatter the sky into being red if he so wished but still couldn’t get you to blush. It irked him greatly, your immunity to his charm; but it made you all the more attractive. He’d tried to  chalk it up to himself liking a challenge, and you presenting just that in the past; but deep down, he’d always known he wouldn’t be able to fool himself for much longer. Now the box of his feelings was starting to strain at the seams, and you still showed no signs of surrendering to his smooth, flattering whispers.

You smiled at him before sliding the door of your compartment shut. He was a goner. He’d been a goner for a long time, now, and Lynette took the liberty of appearing out of thin air to reinforce the fact.

“Lyney. Focus, you can’t afford to get distracted.” Twins they may be, in many ways Lynette was his polar opposite. Where he lured others into rooms of smoke and mirrors with his sliver tongue, Lynette was blunt and to the point, intimidating where Lyney was welcoming. Regardless, they employed different methods to achieve the same goal; trick the right people into doing what they wanted. Lynette raised her eyebrows in his direction. “Or confess and get it over with.”

Lyney sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Dearest sister. You make it sound so simple.”

“That’s because it is, and you’re just a coward,” she replied unapologetically, dragging him away. “Keep your head on your shoulders, this show is important.”

“Sometimes I forget I’m the older one because of how bossy you are,” he grumbled.

“Not my fault you don’t take initiative and live up to your position.”

He huffed and pinched her cheek until she slapped his hands away.

You slept like a rock and woke up to find the train on a new track; the one leading directly to Fontaine. Flinging open the window, you stuck your head out and relished the familiar sound of the turning wheels and grinding gears, taking in the sight of the lush countryside whizzing past. A contented sigh slipped past your lips, and you propped your elbows on the windowsill and your face in your hands to watch the rows of trees fade to clusters of bushes and miles and miles of flowers. A series of knocks on your door startled you out of reverie, and you grudgingly opened with it complete certainty of who you would find on the other side.

Lyney beamed down at you.

“Good morning, mon moineau.”

You covered your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle a yawn. “Morning, Lyney. When will we reach the city?”

“If old Jacques is right, then we should be eating the finest of Fontaine’s cuisine before noon.”

He was clearly excited; you could tell from the way he couldn’t stand still and the perpetual little smile on his face, one of the genuine upturns of his lips that weren’t merely for show.

“Someone’s excited,” you remarked, running a hand through your hair to tame the mess.

“Ah, can you blame me?” He chuckled, leaning against the entrance of your room. “Nothing compares to the Nation of Justice, truly.”

His enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn’t help the little bounce in your step as you got ready. The show may have been hours away, but there was an infinite number of loose ends that needed to be tied before then. Lyney pulled his trademark deck of crimson cards out of nowhere, shuffling them back and forth absent-mindedly and exuding zeal and vigour; now that they were back in Fontaine, his father could perhaps see how far he and his sister had come. Maybe they’d finally be recruited into the Fatui. His heart hammered at the thought until his gaze landed on you, leaned over the shelf below your mirror and tying up your hair. A strand slipped out of the ribbon you were trying to tie it into, and he was seized by the urge to tuck it behind your ear. He would be forced to abandon the troupe if he was recruited. The thought had occurred to him, countlessly, endlessly, ceaseless and persistent and much more discomforting than he preferred; at some point between you mopping the floor with him in your very first argument where you bartered your way into the troupe and now, where he watched you get ready and predicted your next move without thinking from your tiny gestures and expressions, you’d wormed your way into his life and he wasn’t sure how he’d fare without you in it. The knowledge that you’d adapt without him just fine made it sting all the more.

“Lyney,” you said impatiently, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Quit staring at me like I threatened to steal your wages.”

“Apologies, mon amour. I was entranced by your beauty.” Even after contemplating such a dizzying prospect as not seeing you again, complimenting you came so naturally. He firmly believed it was duty to do so, with how effortlessly you took his breath away.

“Flirt,” you muttered under your breath, half exasperatedly and half affectionately. It made his stomach swarm with butterflies and his brain cloud over with visions of you with him. Archons. You were ruining his life without even lifting a single finger.

“You know, getting to Fontaine was my initial goal when I ran away from home,” you remarked to his as you rummaged through the trunk of clothes by the foot of your bed. “I’m as far as I could possibly be from that life.” You tossed something in his direction, and he caught it without thinking. “I have you to thank for that.”

He opened his fist to reveal a delicate silver chain from which a teardrop shaped diamond hung. He looked up at you, incredulous.

“What… what is this?”

“A necklace, you numbskull,” you replied simply, pausing at the gilded mirror to brush away a smear of rouge from your face. You made your way to him, tugging him down by the frilled collar of his shirt to plant a kiss on his cheek. He was quite certain he caught a glimpse of Celestia when your lips touched his skin. “It’s my thank you. And your very late birthday gift.”

There really was no saving him.

“(Name), wait. You can’t- I can’t accept this.”

You laughed. Every last drop of his easy charisma had completely evaporated, leaving him hot and bothered and flushed to the tips of his ears. It was… cute.

“You think I’m stupid? You’ll be disappearing with your darling sister soon, won’t you?” You said, raising your eyebrows. There was a touch of glitter dusted across your cheekbone, probably from the previous day’s rehearsal. He wondered in a daze how it would look on his lips instead. “And once you’re gone, you’ll need something to remember the person you failed to charm by, no?”

“But- this is an heirloom,” he said, staring down at you. “You told me yourself.”

“Didn’t think you were so attentive.”

As if you could do anything without capturing his complete attention.

“Ma cherie, I-”

“Shut it, Lyney. Accept the damn gift. Maybe you won’t be whisked off after this show and you can sell it and treat yourself. Celestia knows you need a proper pair of stage shoes.”

He watched you disappear into the costumes compartment, utterly dumbfounded. Being  members of a circus, savings were worth double their value due to the erratic nature of the amount and timing of wages. You’d given him a genuine diamond necklace. As thanks. As a birthday gift. Something in his chest wouldn’t stop fluttering.

Fontaine was stunning in every sense of the word, from the meandering streams slicing through pristine strips of greenery to the towering buildings and bronzed mechanical arrays. You understood why Lyney loved it so much, and even Lynette was smiling to herself instead of her usual impassive expression. This show would likely be the grandest one yet; Lady Furina was well known for her love of dramatics and the troupe was eager to impress. Performers, you’d discovered when you became one of them, thrived off two things: an audience’s avid praise and the thrill of a perfect show, and the Cirque Extravaganza was indeed extravagant enough to cater to both. Your life had been a performance, before, but without the inherent whimsy of stage lights and silk curtains and the sheer ecstasy of doing something that made your head spin and heart hammer. You performed for your parents, for other nobles, and unwilling actor on a stage you wanted nothing more than to burn down; the next best thing was yelling a good few obscenities at the cast you so despised then leaping off it, which you wholeheartedly did when you ran away. Nothing, not even the saccharinity of a certain magician’s whispers, was sweeter than the knowledge that you’d well and truly escaped the life in which you were forced to fill a role you had no interest in. Freedom was a drug you unreservedly savoured, waking up on a circus train with its taste on your tongue as the engine huffed and puffed, a place where tattered silk and velvet adorned every surface and the scent of passion and perfume hung heavy in the air.

You and the troupe made a quiet arrival through the gates of the city. The grand introduction would come later that night, when Lyney would take to the stage, captivating the crowd with his magic and mesmerising them with his charm as you and your fellow performers offered tantalising glimpses of your own tricks and left them with dazzled expressions and gossip to last at least a month or two. The familiar buzz of anticipation rushed through your veins as you prepared for that night’s show, and you welcomed it with open arms. The troupe’s yelling, the clattering of props and the faint sound of the classical music Lyney and Lynette always played before a show for good luck formed the cacophony of a chaotic circus, the top floor of the Hotel Debord thrumming with excitement.

Lyney waltzed through the open door of your room, wearing the black and maroon outfit he’d recently acquired and a wide smile.

“Well, ma cherie? How are you feeling?” He asked, leaning against the vanity as you perfected your hair and stage makeup. Superstitious as you were, doing these touch-ups in front of a mirror that wasn’t the old, gilded one in your train compartment was a little unnerving. You were so accustomed to seeing the ornate golden roses frame your reflection, the plain steel of this hotel mirror was… lacklustre.

“How are you feeling, magician extraordinaire?” You countered with a teasing wiggle of your eyebrows. “Looking awfully dapper, that’s for sure.”

He hid his blush behind a gloved hand, laughing. “Why, thank you. I never thought I’d have the honour of bringing you to my homeland. It makes everything all the more delightful.” That was the problem with Lyney; try to tease him with a borderline flirtatious remark and he’d return it tenfold.

“Hope it’s delightful enough to get you through this show,” you said, slipping on your shoes. “Six hours onstage is nothing to turn your nose up at.”

He shifted just behind you to glance at his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his top hat. Out of habit, you reached up and nudged its brim over his eyes.

“It will be the grandest show we’ve ever put on,” he declared with a grin, readjusting the hat. You shot him an amused look.

“Grander than last year’s show during the summer festival?”

Lyney groaned, hiding his face in his hand. You cackled; it was considered taboo to mention that. It had been an utter fiasco.

“Ah, why must you remind me of that, ma cherie? Surely it’s bad luck to mention disastrous events before such an important show as this one.”

“Performers’ superstition,” you muttered under your breath.

“As if you don’t paint your nails red for good luck!” He returned with a chuckle.

“You’ve infected me,” you deadpanned, grabbing the bow on the back of his suit and dragging him with you to the door. You refrained from telling him that red was your lucky colour because it was his trademark, and Lyney was truly the first blessing fortune had bestowed upon you. No doubt he’d never let you live it down if he found out. “Let’s go, magician. This audience won’t dazzle itself.”

And of course, the troupe did indeed dazzle the audience. Cards and confetti flew through the air, vibrant smoke from coloured flames hovered over the crowd, kittens and tigers leapt through hoops and then exploded into clouds of glitter, all while the orchestra played a hauntingly beautiful melody that echoed unnaturally through the Opera Epiclese’s soaring hall.

You did a fair bit of soaring yourself, on your trusty trapeze from one post to another then bounding over the tightrope as though it were a bridge miles wide with the air rushing past you and ruffling your hair, the ribbons tied to your wrists and ankles streaming behind you.

Lyney’s grand finale involved a tenuous dance with Lynette while dodging various pyrotechnics that flared up at random intervals across the stage, stepping through a wall of fire then twirling Lynette into nothingness with a flick of his wrist. From the rehearsals alone, it promised to be a magnificent trick.

One problem: Lynette was nowhere to be found. Or at least, that’s what Lyney wanted you to believe as he watched you perfectly execute the four somersaults you’d promised him and land directly- in his arms?

This wasn’t right. How did Lyney intercept your landing? And so seamlessly, without a single hitch, for that matter? (Quite simple. He’d watched you obsessively every time you rehearsed, terrified you’d slip, fall, topple off the impossibly thin rope and down onto the unforgiving ground. Your pride would never allow for a net, so Lyney took it in his own hands to make sure he could be your safety measure if the need ever arose, to make sure he could protect you from your own determination, your own certainty that you were truly unconquerable while metres up in the air. Sometimes he half-expected wings to burst from your shoulder blades, other times he nearly tore his gloves into ribbons from how hard he clenched his fists, frozen with dread and surety that this time your grace would fail you, that your balance would never come and you’d be yet another body bleeding through the chapters of the book that was his life.) No matter. You were here now, on the stage with the golden lights bathing the two of you in warmth, and most importantly, every eye trained on you. If practice and repetition were the bread and butter of any artist, then as performers improvisation was the layer of jam, the extra sweetness and embellishment that set the art form apart; and now, in this unpractised, unrehearsed position with Lyney’s hands on your waist and the audience’s attention on you and the still-present hum of adrenaline from the tightrope in your veins, you exhaled and placed your hand on Lyney’s shoulder. The opening stance of the dance. His lilac eyes met yours, and you gave him an imperceptible nod. The orchestra swelled once more, and you let yourself relax, muscle memory from hours upon hours in the ballroom of your family’s estate taking over. A searing flame surged up from the floor, and you twisted to only just dodge it. Another pillar of blazing red, dangerously close to Lyney’s top hat; he swept into a bow, hat off, as though inviting you to another dance. You curtsied in response, and the same flame missed your hair by half an inch as your head dipped down. Crackling sparks behind you; Lyney pulled you to his chest. A roaring fire to your right; you led him in a slow, purposeful circle around it. Red, red, red, raging and hot; sweat dripped down the back of your neck and smoke tickled the back of your throat. The audience gasped and cheered as you deftly side-stepped every last flicker, the sound mingling with the roaring inferno and the distant music from the orchestra; a trumpet note here and a skilful bit of piano there, and most of all, Lyney’s off-kilter breathing and faint panting for air. His touch seared your skin, more scorching than any fire. With a final gasp, he lifted you above his head as a tower of sizzling fireworks exploded from where you’d stood a moment before. A last quivering chord from the violin. Lyney’s face just inches from yours, sharing the same smoke-tinged breath. For a brief, horrifying moment, nothing; a curtain of blackness so deep and impenetrable you almost feared you’d never be found again. You supposed this was the part where he made you disappear. Sensations rushed back. Dimly, the eruption of wild applause and his chest heaving against yours.

Archons, he wanted to kiss you so badly. He doubted a more tempting dilemma could ever be presented to him. Before he gave in and crushed his lips to yours, he pivoted on his heel and bowed to the audience with a flourish. You followed suit, and the stage was soon littered with flowers. You could discern Lady Furina’s voice, high and clear, shouting ‘Bravo! Bravo! Magnifique! Enchanteur!”

The greatest of all performances, indeed, thrown in hopes that his Father would witness their accomplishments and take them back. So why was he so relieved that he didn’t glimpse her piercing, unmistakable gaze throughout the whole show? Why could he think of nothing besides your glowing eyes, your features softened then sharpened by the fire, the scent of your perfume mixing with the smoke?

Backstage, you picked at the singed ribbons on your wrists and ankles while the rest of the troupe hurried about, exhausted down to the bone and ashes in your throat. Eventually you gave up on a particularly stubborn knot, leaning your head back against the wall and sighing, only for Lyney to appear at your side and work at the ribbon with his nimble fingers instead.

“Are you alright?” He asked, propping your limp wrist in his lap.

“What happened? Where did Lynette go?”

“Answer my question,” he replied sternly, pulling the ribbon off your wrist and tracing the veins there with his fingertips.

“Answer mine,” you immediately retorted, stubbornness flaring. He chuckled.

“If you’ve got enough energy to argue I suppose you’re fine.”

“Well?” You demanded after a brief pause where you simply sat together in tired silence. “What went wrong with your trick?”

Surprise crossed his face. “Went wrong? I thought it was perfect.”

You lifted your head to shoot him an incredulous look. His fingertips continued to trace the network of veins snaking across your wrist.

“Lyney. You know what I mean. I wasn’t supposed to be involved at all!”

“Maybe it was meant to be, then,” he suggested with a wink. You groaned, running a hand though your hair.

“It’s impossible for you to take anything seriously, isn’t it?” He was inclined to disagree. There was nothing he took more seriously than your safety and presence in his life.

“Is Lynette alright?” You asked next, curling up and leaning your weight against him, tiredness rapidly setting in. Lyney held very still, afraid to make a wrong move and have your comforting warmth removed.

“She’s… she’s fine. Making tea, I suspect.”

You hummed in agreement, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not a very comfortable pillow,” you remarked. “You should eat more.”

“Anything for you, cherie,” he all but choked out, desperately flustered by the way you’d draped yourself over him. He could acutely feel every curve and dip of your body pressed against his. Was death by overheating possible?

You grumbled, pinching his arm. “Shut up, this isn’t the time for flirting.” Any time was perfect for reminding you how wonderful you were and how much you meant to him. “And don’t try to catch me like that again, it scared me. You’re not supposed to interrupt my routine.”

“I apologise.” “Damn right you do,” you retorted, pushing yourself off him and stretching. There was a very unsavoury pain in your lower back, and you hissed as the tender muscle strained. “So.” You turned to properly face Lyney, crossing your legs beneath you and grinning. “Was your Father there? In the audience?”

You were determined to be supportive, to share his enthusiasm at returning to the Fatui, even if your heart wobbled strangely at the thought of him leaving. He faltered in the face of you excitement. Were you that eager to have him gone…?

“…No,” he finally replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You misread the sudden disheartened sag in his shoulders and downwards tip of his mouth as disappointment, and rushed to somehow comfort him.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure word of your incredible performance will reach every ear in Fontaine. It’s only a matter of time,” you said, not unkindly. When his dejected expression didn’t budge, you sighed and pulled sharply at the bow on his shoulder to regain his attention. “Hey. Stop frowning like that. A pretty face like yours shouldn’t be ruined by premature wrinkles.” You didn’t tell him that seeing him so lost and hesitant made your stomach drop, or that the sight of his smile would bring one to your face. A magician who could make your heart disappear the moment he had it in his grasp didn’t need to know that.

“…Is it pleasing to you?” He murmured with a touch of his usual teasing, glancing back up at you while his fingers still lingered on your wrist, tracing an invisible pattern. “My face?”

“To me and every young lady within a five metre radius, I’d wager.”

“But especially to you?” Lyney pressed, smiling in earnest now. You had a terrifying way of doing that, flipping his emotions with nothing but a few sweet words from your lips, and he was quite happy to surrender his heart to your whims if it meant he could have these precious few moments where he could almost fool himself into thinking you reciprocated.

You sighed, turning slightly so you could lean your back against his side. It’d be better if he couldn’t see the way you blushed at your reply, so soft it was almost drowned out by the sounds of the troupe celebrating another successful show. “Yes, Lyney. Especially to me.”

(The troupe quieted down when they saw the two of you fast asleep backstage, propped against each other with your head on Lyney’s shoulder and his fingers loosely wrapped around your wrist. If several Kameras ran out of storage that day, then it was strictly an everyone-knows-except-you-two situation. The particularly adorable photos become a secret currency. Everyone wants the singular copy of the one where you’re both smiling gently in your sleep. Lynette smugly refuses to part with it.)

Life in Fontaine was so jarringly steady, an uninterrupted flow of café visits and wandering the countryside and tossing spare change into the Fountain of Lucine, fields of flowers and an endlessly blue sky forming a mild backdrop for picture-perfect moments. It was so different than what you’d grown accustomed to; the constant rush of being on the move, the train’s constant rumbling and puffing, haphazard memorabilia strewn across every surface and late night drinking and card games with the boundless night as your only witness. The first few weeks off the train find you and many of the other members with wobbly legs, unused to solid land rather than the shifting and swaying you were familiar with. Jokes about being akin to sailors are popular and repeated in every possible iteration during this time, and you were in such good spirits that you laugh at every single one.

As you’ve come to expect, the initial rush from yet another one of the Cirque Extravaganza’s triumphs in conquering a new stage quickly gave way to throngs of over-enthusiastic fans cropping up through the city streets, country roads and anywhere else you decided to venture. The little children are sweet and eager, and you regale them with clumsy attempts at sleight-of-hand when Lyney isn’t there, offering them flowers and candy that they gleefully accepted. Some, those who are sceptical about the validity of your skill, ask you to scale the nearest tree or lamp-post, or do a backflip, or some other trial to prove that you weren’t a fraud of some sort. You humour these requests, and any disbelievers leave in a state of awe with an autograph clutched in their hands. One girl, bolder than most with a grin bright enough to be on stage, asked for one of the ribbons you wore during the performance. Charmed by her confidence, you gave her the least singed one, and in that instance you also left with a piece of paper, one where she scrawled her address with a heart doodled in the corner. Lyney was oddly indignant when he found it, and sulked rather impressively all day until you dragged him to an ice cream parlour you’d heard word of even back in Mondstadt. It was, in a way, a tribute to your older sister Eula; the two of you would often daydream together about prancing freely about in a faraway place and eating desserts with no concern for etiquette or the reputation of your family. You wished you could share this experience with her, but she’d been adamant on staying and becoming a Knight. Although- you cut a glance towards Lyney, who’d ordered a blackberry and cherry mix that matched almost perfectly with the hues he was currently fond of wearing- this is nice too. You took the lift to the highest floor it could reach, then scaled the wall surrounding the city with considerable difficulty, ice creams in hand, to sit on the edge and admire the sprawling view of the water dotted with light from the stars.

Lyney hadn’t quite forgotten the overzealous advances you’d entertained, but being in your company in the City of Love, sharing laughter and smiles and anecdotes over treats every bit as saccharine as the affection he held for you was the most effective soothing balm against the sting of knowing your attention wasn’t solely devoted to him the same way his was to you. The moonlight helped, too; it added to atmosphere and greatly appeased his romantic side.

 (You stole glances at him when he wasn’t paying attention, tucking glimpses of his relaxed expression away in your memory. It was nice to see your Lyney every now and then, rather than the magician extraordinaire of the Cirque Extravaganza.)

You reached over to steal a spoonful of Lyney’s ice cream, and he swerved away to avoid you so energetically that he nearly fell off the edge of the enormous wall surrounding the Court of Fontaine. You grabbed the hood of his cape to steady him before he could tumble down to a painful death.

“Don’t go falling off after all the trouble I went to get us up here,” you said, amused, and Lyney huffed indignantly as you smugly ate the bite of ice cream you’d managed to steal from him.

“I doubt the fall would be half as painful as falling for you, mon amour,” he smoothly replied, even having the unparalleled audacity to shoot you a wink as if he hadn’t been on the precipice of his demise mere moments before.

“That’s it, I’m pushing you myself,” you deadpanned, kicking his foot with your own where they dangled off the edge.

“You’re all bark and no bite,” he accused with a laugh. “You couldn’t survive a day without me.”

You levelled him with an unimpressed look, lifting a spoonful of ice cream to your mouth.

“Every day you astonish me with your sheer arrogance.”

He grinned, leaning forward to emphasise his next words. “You didn’t deny it,” he pointed out in a slightly sing-song voice. “Admit it, cherie.” Lyney’s heart hammered dizzyingly loud in his ears. This felt like such dangerous territory to tread, perched as high off the ground as you made him feel. Should he retreat, let your delicate waltz of quips and flirtations go on?

“Admit what?” You replied, trying to sound dismissive but failing when your breath caught in your throat as he inched closer. Surely you only felt dizzy because of the height. Surely it wasn’t because Lyney’s eyes refracted into a hundred shades of violet, stars reflected in their surface, or because he was so close a strand of his hair brushed your cheek. “You make it sound as if I’m a criminal on trial, about to plead guilty and confess.”

“Maybe you should confess,” he breathed, lifting his hand to your face. You watched his movements raptly, heart racing. “Archons know you’re guilty of stealing my heart, mon moineau, and there’s nowhere for you to fly away and evade your charges.”

Words died on your tongue when his knuckles brushed gently across your cheek, and your heart fluttered like the sparrows he was so fond of comparing you to. This wasn’t like his usual flirting, you distantly realised. He was seriously asking you to confess. His fingers twirled a strand of your hair before tucking it behind your ear, bringing you closer by the nape of your neck. You frowned at him.

“I am not verbally admitting to liking you in this lifetime.” He looked so crestfallen you could almost laugh. “They do say actions speak louder than words, though,” you added with a whisper, then carefully leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. Lyney, to his credit, quickly recovered from his initial surprise and the overwhelming fact that you tasted like ice cream, then made shockingly swift work of trying to deepen the kiss by grazing his teeth along your lower lip, to which you responded with a choked yelp and jumping away. You couldn’t possibly fathom the effort it took not to grab you and drag you back to continue where you left off.

“Archons, Lyney!” You hissed, out of breath and red-faced, fingers carefully pressing against your tender, swollen lips. Lyney subconsciously licked his own at the sight, completely and utterly devoid of any semblance of shame, in awe of how the moonlight set you aglow. He marvelled at how easily it was to exasperate you as one of his hands moved to your waist, trying not-so-subtly to bring you closer again.

His grin could only be described as self-congratulatory. “What?” He asked, not even bothering to feign innocence. Before you had the chance to heatedly respond, he swooped in to peck your cheek, then your lips, flustering you all over again.

“The one time I try to be romantic and you ruin it by being greedy,” you lamented, shooting him a joking glare.

“You’ll have plenty more chances to be romantic in the future, amour,” he replied with a grin. “Just kiss me for now.”

“So demanding,” you breathed. “What makes you so sure there’ll be future chances, hm?”

“Come now,” he coaxed, tilting your chin up just so. “You know you can’t resist me.”

“Shut up, you arrogant magician,” you grumbled, then silenced him with your lips on his, because maybe, just maybe, he was right.

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘

[unboundprompts]

Angst Prompts

↳ a masterpost for writing prompts with angsty themes.

↳ (#) is from my collection of random prompts, (list) contains multiple prompts.

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

I also have a Patreon! Become a member to gain access to a Member's Only Community where you can chat and message other members and myself. Also gain access to my personal writing, which includes completed short stories, chapters from novels in progress, as well as completed scenes.

Romantic Angst Prompts:

God, I'm Going to Miss You (#59)

Don't Say Things You Don't Mean (#61)

Character in Love with Someone who They Think Hates Them (list)

Love Confession after an Argument (list)

Being Shocked After a Kiss (list)

Character that Pushes Away the People they Love (list)

The People Who Don't Care if I Live or Die (#159)

Grief / Depression Angst Prompts:

Faked Death (#37)

Prompts for a Character that is Alone (list)

A Character Dealing with Grief and Drug Use (list)

Prompts for Being Left Out (list)

Prompts for Losing Someone (and having Self-Guilt) (list)

Prompts for a Character Having a Breakdown (list)

Reuniting with a Missing Friend (list)

Unforgiving Fist (#103)

Meaning Without You (#170)

Fantasty / Sci-Fi Angst Prompts:

Bigger than the Both of Us (#5)

Can't Remember My Name (#20)

The Visions (#65)

My Head is Filled with Ghosts (#89)

No-Longer Human Character Reuniting with Friends and Family Part 1 (list)

No-Longer Human Character Reuniting with Friends and Family Part 2 (list)

Character Getting Thrown into a Volcano (list)

No-Longer Human Character Regretting What They've Become (list)

Non-Human Character Revealing Themselves (list)

My Design Was Never Good Enough (#129)

Hero and Villain Angst Prompts:

You're Sick (#1)

Responses to "I'm Going to Kill You" (list)

Not the Best Idea (#62)

Responses to "Let's Die Together" (list)

Alone in the World (#42)

Hero is told by Villain that their Friend Betrayed them (list)

I Can't Control It (#146)

Anger/Argument Angst Prompts:

One Character Has Been Lying to the Other (list)

You Betrayed Me (#97)

Been Like This (#121)

Betrayed Your Kind (#123)

The One to Beat (#171)

Family Angst Prompts:

Different Ways to Describe Emotionally Distant Parents

Single Parenting Prompts (list)

Responses to Finding Out You Have a Secret Sibling (list)

Meeting a Parent After Abandonment (list)

Other Angst Prompts:

Prompts about Re-Entering Society (list)

Character Has Been Poisoned (list)

Describing a Car Accident (list)

You Don't Remember? (#117)

Responses to "I'm just tired." (list)

[sobasluuurp]

Ok. About Tenko.

I understand why so many people are angry that he's dead. I really do. I would've loved for him to live as well. I cried when he died.

However.

Just because he's dead doesn't mean his character has been handled poorly. In fact, all things considered, this ending (even though it makes me real fucking sad) makes the most sense for both his character and his story. Let me explain.

First and foremost, there's the matter of Shigaraki's characterization and arc. It goes without saying, but he's an angry, used, and abused child who grew up into an adult who wants nothing more than for everything to end. His goals have always been destructive to an extreme and honestly, the logical end to "let's destroy it all" is LITERALLY everything, including himself. He's also had absolutely zero agency since the moment his parents even thought of conceiving him, and has been struggling to become his own person since the beginning of his arc. He, against his abuser, who covets immortality and eternity.

What better a way for a person such as himself to assert his agency is there than to go out the way he did? To shift his focus away from the faceless masses and to the (similarly faceless, lol) abuser who caused his pain in the first place? To destroy the control AFO has held over him and prove to him that he was always his own person? To say, this is who you molded me into. And because I am who I am, I will now kill you, and take myself down with you, and be glad for it.

(and in the process, destroy the worldview AFO showed us in the Star and Stripe arc, that the ones who survive are the victors. AFO has completely and eternally lost, but Shigaraki is victorious to his last.)

It's his first moment of complete agency in his life -- acting entirely against anyone else's wishes for himself or his actions. And he uses it to do the one thing he's been itching for his whole life -- to destroy the source of his pain.

It's a negative character arc, in a way. It's not what any of us would've wanted for him. In a perfect world, he would be able to recover and readjust, building a life for himself and his found family in peace. He'd be able to experience life fully for the first time, and see that the world is not so bleak after all.

(I'm choking up just thinking about what's been lost. It's a fucking tragedy.)

But not every character arc gets to end happily. Sometimes people do slip through the cracks. That's always been what Shigaraki's character is about.

....and what every other member of the League's characters have been about.

Because here's the thing. The story of Shigaraki's life and death would be incomplete without his relationship to his found family. He's their leader. Their symbol. Their All Might.

Shigaraki's death is not the grimdark, fuck-the-audience, senseless kind of tragedy. He is a martyr, yes, but the people he stood for will in all likelihood survive. He died for the League. His life -- his existence -- brought them together, gave them purpose, and showed them a bright future. It is my steadfast belief that he will be the only death among the main villains. Because this is a story about saving to win, after all. And given that My Hero doesn't like to kill characters off too often and each one of them still has a path to recovery, I think it's a safe assumption to make. Especially since (especially in Toya's and Toga's cases) each of them had a moment of reconciliation at the end of their fights -- the kind of thing that can help them move forward.

And to be honest, we've known for a very, very long time that BNHA is the kind of anime that likes to turn old cliches on their heads. Kacchan did not become a villain during Kamino. La Brava's literal power of love was not enough to win the battle. Deku fought tirelessly to talk-no-jutsu Shigaraki into redemption, and while he did get through to him, he still couldn't save him after everything that happened. It's nuanced and messy in a way that I've come to expect from BNHA.

So yea, Shigaraki died. But Shigaraki also lived. Despite everything that AFO and Kotoro wanted from him (despite the fact that he was never meant to really be alive in the first place), he lived on his own terms and fought so that the people he cared about would be seen. Because he lived, the old world was destroyed, and from his ashes, a better one can be built. He achieved everything that no one thought he could, and reclaimed his life in the process. What better ending could you ask for a tragic character?

[formyloveoflove]

Characters I Would've Liked to See More than the Faks in S3

I learned too fak'ing much about that family in S3. I loved the Faks in S2. Their increased screentime felt like an over-compensation. Much of the comedy that I loved in S1 came from the staff interactions. The feeling of an ensemble was truly missed for me.

But without further ado and in no particular order-

1. Marcus

Marcus Brooks, I am so sorry that the writers didn't give your story the necessary space it truly needed. You were the only child of a single mother, and you watched her die. I wish we could've seen more of your grief. The little glimpses we saw - your eulogy speech, the way you were inspired to make a dish to honor her, and your thinking about legacy - were so beautiful, but it felt like it had no place to breathe.

The glossing over this tragic loss, the fumbling of showcasing Black Catholic influences (sidenote: did you know that Chicago is home to the biggest African American Catholic population), and the diminishing of his grief were some lows of the season. I would've loved to see more of Marcus dealing with the loss of a parent because no matter how "prepared" you are, that shit will knock you off your feet.

2. Sweeps

If we needed a break from the melancholy of the main plot, I would've loved to see Mr. Gary “Sweeps” Woods go to wine school. It could've been in clips, similar to Tina going to culinary school in S2. Some comedic slip-ups, or maybe somebody else recognized him from his baseball days, or maybe he messed around and got too drunk. Better yet: he and some fellow sommelier get drunk. We've seen this character for three seasons, and we barely see him.

I did enjoy his monologue in Legacy and thought it was very fitting.

3. Manny and Angel

I remember seeing them for a split second in the 30-minute montage S3 E3 "Doors." They are truly the unsung heroes, and it would be good to see them for some comic relief. Maybe they're pranksters? Maybe they could've been the reason the teaspoons and forks were missing. Or maybe they could've been tasked with counting how many come through.

What's their dynamic? What are their personalities? Three seasons, and they feel like cameos.

4. Thee Adamus

One of the things that I wanted from S3 was some more Sydney's mom, and while I was delighted to see she has her mom as her lock screen, I wanted more. I love Syd's dynamic with her Dad whose unyielding support can come off a little worrisome to his baby girl. But Dreamer! Daughter x Practical! Father hits close to home for me. And the Adamus have a healthier relationship with loss and grief, and I want to know more about that process.

When I say more of the Adamus, I mean I want to see why and how Sydney became Sydney. I wanted to see their family dynamics. Why does Syd like to cook? Why is Syd avoidant?

Plus, this was a season about mothers, goshdarnit. More mother content, please.

5. Ebra

Ebra is so funny to me. Like I'm begging on my knees for more Ebra content. He's so cryptic and genuine in a way that only older Black men sharing snapshots of their trauma are. In S1, he's very attentive when it comes to the younger staff members, like when he was sensitive to Marcus gaining confidence in his skills and when he read Sydney's review for the whole kitchen to see.

One of my critiques of S2 was that they just let Ebra fall by the waistside. They didn't fully commit to his journey to accepting change as an older professional. This season, we barely got him at all. I would've had him at least show up to Syd's party. Maybe even via Facetime with the camera all up his nose because he doesn't understand the mechanics just yet.

[cenorii]

Chris Redfield: personality

This is my psychological analysis of the character, which includes important details of the story, an analysis of the decisions they made and the concept of the phenomenon of «Guiding Fear». Contains spoilers!

Even if you know lore 100%, you will be able to learn something new from my thoughts

I did this to practice analyzing personalities and reliably prescribe my own characters.

[These are all my personal reflections that I have been accumulating and analyzing for six months. You can see the same analysis with Wesker here. In Chris' case, I want to dispel the myths that he is unstable and stupid. Thanks to everyone who reads this, I really appreciate it and it's nice to know that my thoughts are of interest to someone!]

Chris devoted his life entirely to the fight against bioterrorism, renouncing normal life so that others could have it. We don't know much about his thoughts and feelings, as it's in Chris' character to hide such things deep within himself so they don't interfere with his work, but his kind and honest nature shines through. His probable motto is «If not me, then who?»

The main theme of Resident Evil is the struggle with fear. We can speculate endlessly about which characters struggle with which fear, but I'm pretty sure Chris embodies the «fear of loss».

In his 48 years of life, he has lost many partners and squad members, as well as family and friends. Death follows Chris, and he is unbearably afraid of his curse. But who is Chris? In the eyes of many he is a hero, famous for his impulsive character and unbending sense of justice, because of which he is ready to argue with his superiors to prove his point. But behind the legend is a sensitive, respectful and careful man, able to recognize the best qualities in people and guide them.

«I'm not a hero» © Chris

Because of his fear of losing his loved ones, Chris needs control and order in his life, he avoids and minimizes any risks. For this reason, in re8 organized his own squad, separated from the organization, to have full control over the situation. This obsession to control his environment and outcomes to avoid the pain or disappointment that he has experienced in the past is a defense mechanism.

Chris is not an overly sociable person or someone who is eager to make new friends. Although he is easy to communicate, Chris still refrains from frequent socializing with people to avoid forming attachments that could potentially lead to losses in the future. He is used to formal communication between subordinates and colleagues, and informal communication only with those close to Chris who have been with him for a long time.

But let's go his way.

Chris and his younger sister Claire lost their parents when they were children, they died in a car accident. Since then, Chris has taken responsibility for his sister and they have become very close. The first major loss in his life.

At the age of 17, Chris joined the United States Air Force, where he stayed for 6 years. From there he has flying skills, and he is also good with various weapons and is known for his hand-to-hand combat skills, which will not once help him in life. A capable man who was fired for disobeying senior officers, because he didn't agree with them. Barry Burton, a friend he met in the Air Force, recommended Chris to S.T.A.R.S. (elite special forces division under the jurisdiction of the Raccoon Police Department), and that's how his fateful meeting with the Alpha and Bravo teams happened. On the team, Chris was valued for his versatility and was assigned as a point man.

There Chris won at least one award as the best shooter and also met Jill Valentine, who later became his good friend and partner.

His desk in S.T.A.R.S.'s office stands out with its perpetual clutter, scattered folders and disks. He tends to bring things from home, decorating his place with them. For example, next to his desk, Chris put a guitar and also hung a jacket with "Made in Heaven" written on it, which is a reference to a song by the band Queen. Did he risk using the guitar in the presence of the Captain?

On holidays, he would often go to the suburbs with his teammates to drink, which sometimes caused riots. At that point, Chris was chaotic, but because of a difficult fate in the future, he had to tame his inner chaos.

All good things came to an end when contact was lost with Bravo's team in the mountains near Raccoon City. Alpha, meaning the team Chris was on, went to investigate and stumbled upon the Spencer's Mansion. But it wasn't an accident, it was just part of the plan of Wesker, their Captain. The mansion was only a cover for the Umbrella lab beneath it. All the inhabitants of the place had become mere shadows of their former selves, turning into zombies. In order for Chris to explore the building more safely, Wesker left supplies for him in some places, which may not be canon, but only a game convention. But this is quite normal for Wesker, he maintained the image of the captain until the very end.

When Chris caught Wesker off guard in the lab, he was finally convinced that his fears were correct... the captain was a traitor. But even knowing that, realizing how many squad members he ruined, when Wesker was mortally wounded Chris didn't hide his excitement for him. In the re1 remake Chris twitches in his direction, but then recoils. Chris has compassion even for those who betrayed him.

Chris lost many friends, including Wesker, during this assignment. And that day left a strong imprint in his mind. It was later dubbed «Mansion Incident». Something that divided the lives of many into «before» and «after» and began an endless nightmare.

Chris, Jill, Barry, Brad and Rebecca survived and took it upon themselves to figure things out. Upon their return, Chris reported the horrific incident to anyone who was willing to listen, but Police Chief Irons hushed up all the gossip, being under the thumb of Umbrella, not to mention that even the government refused to listen to what Chris had to say. Umbrella had too much influence for it to be that simple, but that only fueled the fire of Chris's fighting spirit. He went on «vacation» to Europe to do his own investigation without saying anything to Claire. Chris wanted to keep his sister out of danger, but there were consequences. Concerned about her brother's disappearance, Claire found herself drawn into the chaos of the fall of Raccoon City, where she met Leon Kennedy (events re2).

During his time at S.T.A.R.S., Chris saw his sister often and taught her shooting and combat skills. Thanks to her brother's attention, Claire learned the skills she needed to survive.

When Claire learned enough information about her brother and left the infected city, she traveled to Europe to continue her search for Chris, but found herself caught by Umbrella. She was sent to Rockfort Island prison, which was more like a concentration camp. (Code: Veronica). Thanks to information from Leon, who Claire managed to contact, Chris set out to help his sister. On the island, he encountered a few revelations - Wesker was alive for some reason, and he was also after some Alexia.

The former captain who got Chris's friends killed. The one who was presumed dead has once again cast a shadow over Redfield's life. Their fates intertwined.

Since Wesker's presence has been causing disasters as of late, Chris decided not only to find his sister, but also to investigate the situation on the island to prevent his new enemy from giving him what he was looking for. Upon meeting him, he discovered that the former captain was no longer human. Chris was only able to defeat him by stealth, suffering greatly in the process.

He eventually saved Claire, and they left the place together. Deep in his heart, Chris realized that Umbrella must cease to exist so that people like Wesker would disappear. So that unfortunate people would not repeat the fate of Steve (Claire's dead friend) and the people of Raccoon City.

In 2003, he traveled with Jill to Russia because of reports of infected people in that region. Their visit to a biological weapons factory ended with a victory over a new enemy, T-A.L.O.S., as well as the collapse of Umbrella, because now Chris and Jill had all the evidence against them. It was not without the help of Wesker, who had contributed to this collapse, because he wanted the same thing. Since then, Chris had become very attached to Jill, as if he was responsible for her life.

However, bioweapons and viruses have affected civilians many more times. That's why Chris and his partner joined the young BSAA organization to prevent the disaster in Raccoon City from repeating itself. In 2005 they were drawn into a conflict with the terrorist organization Veltro, in the investigation of which revealed unpleasant information about traitors in their (BSAA) ranks. There, by the way, Chris becomes the partner of a certain Jessica Sherawat, who is clearly partial to him, but he pretends that he does not notice the hints, softly rejecting the feelings of the future traitor. Inside BSAA, the leadership had to be changed, and that was the first seed of doubt that settled in Chris's mind. The first feeling of distrust for the place he was involved with.

Life continues to put Chris on the spot, forcing him to go on various missions with little or no time to rest. Thanks to the huge number of things, he has dedicated himself to, Chris is at the top of the organization. His endless hard work is summed up in his own phrase: «I'm Not Going To Stop Until I'm Dead».

Let's travel back to 2006. DLC for re5 «Lost in Nightmares». Chris and Jill go in search of Spencer, the last remaining bit of Umbrella, its founder. This man is responsible for many things and deserves to be punished, and could help them find Wesker. But when the partners arrive on a tip-off at his mansion, they find only a bloody corpse with their former captain standing over it. The latter in turn was displeased with the intrusion and immediately attacked them, during the fight Chris was caught off guard. A couple of seconds separated him from probable death. But Jill intervened and pushed Wesker through the window, she falling with him into the cliff. Chris could only watch helplessly as they fell, realizing that once again he had lost someone dear to him. Here Chris wonders for the first time if his struggle is worth it.

Jill's body was never found, and neither was Wesker's, so the former was pronounced dead. The empty grave with the headstone that had been erected in her honor was not deprived of Chris's attention. He probably went there often and grieved. What he swore over Jill's grave was unknown to anyone, but it made Chris investigate even more and put himself through even more training.

Since 1998, his body has changed a lot. Knowing that one day he would meet Wesker again, Chris diligently grew stronger, pushing his body to the limits of human capability so that he would be ready for anything.

What follows are the events of re5. In 2009, he travels to Africa to stop a bioweapons deal, where he meets his new partner, Sheva Alomar. Although they don't have the reliving of the past that they had with Jill, they hit it off well, thanks to which they accomplish a lot together. At the very beginning they encounter a new enemy, Majini, the same Ganados that Leon once encountered in re4, only from an improved version of the Plaga parasite. They also meet a virtually immortal mutant created thanks to the new Uroboros virus. After defeating him, Chris gets the data and learns that the deal was rigged to test this virus. In doing so, he lost several more of his men and painfully realized that if he had arrived on the scene a little earlier, his corpse lay with them. The data also contained a picture of a woman who looked strangely like the dead Jill, but with blonde hair. Chris secretly believed that maybe his old partner was alive.

Sheva was disappointed by the deaths of her comrades and frightened. Not wanting to put anyone else in danger, Chris asks her to leave him, but Sheva refuses. She assures Chris that they are partners until the end. Somewhere out there, her people are dying, so she can't drop everything and turn back and leave Chris alone. Then Chris tells her that he's on this mission for personal reasons. His former partner Jill may be alive and she needs his help, so they need to hurry before it's too late. To which Sheva agrees, not doubting her new partner's theory.

Eventually, after going through many trials, they came face to face with Wesker. He revealed that Jill had been with him the whole time, but was under a mind-altering drug. Jill, being zombified, fought on the same team as Wesker against Chris and Sheva. One of the dearest people to Chris had been enslaved for two whole years, which was beyond his mind with horror and sadness. He had almost buried her, almost given up looking for her, but Jill was literally under his nose, in a terrible situation. Struggling with his best friend and partner, Chris never stopped trying to get the truth into her head so she would recognize it, and he's succeeding.

Running away on urgent business, Wesker leaves Jill alone, forcing Chris and Sheva to fight her. During the fight, they remove the injector from her chest that was controlling her mind.

A disoriented Jill repents that she realized everything but couldn't control herself, to which her partners reply that they understand. Jill is back in action and off to the «Desperate Escape» DLC, while Chris and Sheva continue the main plot and head off on Wesker's trail. For Chris, this was already a personal vendetta. Having suffered so much loss through this man's fault, he would no longer be able to look Jill in the eye if he didn't stop him.

While searching for Wesker, the team encounters an Uroboros mutated Excella, Wesker's his ally, on whom Wesker decides to test the virus, to see if Excella will prove to be the «chosen one».

After an exhausting battle, the partners find the man they came for and decide to use the serum stolen from Excella. It is an injection that, under the right conditions, stabilizes Wesker's powers, but when overdosed makes him weaker. A weakened Wesker tries to flee to his plane, refusing to be confronted any further. His partners, who managed to climb with him, cause the plane to crash into an active volcano, where their final battle takes place.

Wesker, having lost most of his powers, finds himself in a difficult situation and decides to resort to overdosing on Uroboros. Against him, Chris and Sheva are once again at odds, but the fragile rock in the volcano plays into their hands, and Wesker falls ridiculously into the lava as the ground beneath him collapses.

This allowed partners to take advantage of his helplessness and fire the rocket launcher twice at the target. Although not shown, it is assumed that Wesker was killed.

After that, Chris finally realized what he was fighting for, realizing that his fight was worth the lives saved. Jill was sent to rehab after everything Wesker had done to her and didn't get back to normal until closer to 2015, causing Chris to change partners again. Chris wrote in his notes, «Defeating Wesker's undoubtedly a turning point for me. Due to this battle, I found the meaning behind what I'm fighting for».

In 2012, during the events of re6, Chris and his new partner, Piers Nivans, were sent to Edonia to prevent the spread of another bioweapon, but things didn't go quite as they expected. Another mission, another loss for Redfield.

At some point, he learns about Jake Muller and the fact that his life is in danger. After learning that he was Wesker's own son, Chris thought deep down, probably about the fate that has been intertwined with this man since the days of S.T.A.R.S.

At the very beginning of the mission, Chris loses almost his entire squad, once again convinced of the curse he carries behind him. And amnesia during the trauma incapacitates him for six months and Chris becomes an alcoholic.

In 2013, Pierce brings his captain back into the service, forcefully reclaiming unpleasant memories in order to continue the mission. The losses that Chris has suffered have affected him greatly, and he worries for the lives of every member of the squad, making foolish and rash actions that put him in danger. It is only after talking with Piers that Chris comes to his senses and becomes his old self again, because being gripped by fear you can't save anyone. And he really couldn't save anyone again, only the two of them survived.

After meeting Jake again, Chris confesses that he killed Wesker, his father, which leads to an argument in which Jake pulls a gun on him. Chris at this point says, "Go ahead, shoot. You have every right to. Just promise me you'll survive. The world depends on it." Jake shoots past and declares that there are more important things at stake than their problems. Chris probably feels guilty about him.

On a mission to protect Jake and many others, Chris and Piers have to face a new bioweapon, HAOS. Piers, sacrificing himself, becomes infected with the C-virus and forces Chris to save himself by being alone with HAOS. In doing so, he became another wound on Redfield's heart. Another loss on the account. Chris had planned to retire, lay down his weapons and turn everything over to Piers, but now he is forced to continue his service, thus honoring Piers's memory. Chris once said he would fight to the end, and he doesn't throw words to the wind.

2017, re7 events. Bakers and Mold incident, which Chris was unlucky enough to be involved in. He once again tragically lost all of his people. Once again, fate has struck a sore spot. And that seed of doubt that had settled in his mind back in 2005 finally blossomed. After this incident, Chris became even more distrustful of the BSAA, because they had hidden the incident from the public, which had never happened before. He formed his own Hound Wolf Squad, gathering people he could trust, and spent the next three years tracking down a certain mother Miranda, with absolutely no authorization from headquarters. He became an outcast in BSAA for this cause and for justice.

As Chris got older, he stopped acting impulsively and began to act more uncompromisingly, clearly following the plan regardless of any interference. He saw no obvious reason why he was obligated to inform Ethan of his next course of action before shooting his «wife» during dinner in 2021. He believed that Miranda would realize that Ethan knew something, so such sacrifices had to be made.

Ethan thought until the last minute that his wife was gone and the baby had been taken away. What loss and stress Ethan went through Chris didn't even take it upon himself to imagine. In the end, it turned out that it wasn't his wife at all, but Miranda, who had pretended to be her, changing her appearance at the expense of Mold's abilities. Chris's plan had gone awry from the start, but it could hardly have been worse if he had prematurely informed Ethan. From now on, Chris tried to keep random people out of his plans to minimize any potential casualties.

On this mission, for the first time, Chris didn't lose anyone from his squad, but he did lose a friend. Ethan died to protect loved ones, and it hit Redfield and his fear once again. He experienced grief and anger at the realization that he would never be able to save those whose lives he held dear. Perhaps he chastised himself for the mistakes he had made during this assignment. Blamed himself for not telling Ethan the whole plan beforehand. He had plenty of reasons to hate himself.

But this small victory over Miranda doesn't mean victory in the never-ending war against bioterrorism. On the way back, one of his squad discovers that the body of the BSAA soldier on their plane was a bioweapon. This is the last straw for Chris, and he decides to look into everything, which will most likely lead to a coup in the organization.

To summarize, Chris is sometimes hard to understand, as he hides his emotions and feelings under a meaningful silence. The kindly man who was the soul of the company, by 2021 looks as if he has lost all hope, but it still burns in him. Every dead person he failed to keep safe feels like they destroyed his heart. Christopher is a huge wound in the fandom that is not easy to heal. His storyline is likely coming to an end, which makes me sad to see Chris meet his old age in sadness and loneliness. At the time of re8 (2021), he's already 48 years old, which is a lot considering he's been fighting bioterrorism since he was 25. Has Chris ever thought of his own wants and needs since then? He has such dedication and concern for others that it seems as if he is completely oblivious to himself. With his endless responsibilities, it would be impossible to take a vacation, but there are indeed moments of calm, does Chris never rest?

On a more personal note, he has always treated his squads like family, "I know it is not any of my business, but I want you to think of us as a family... no matter how this all ends" (Philosophy University Incident 2010). Nothing is known about Chris' relationships, except for one non-canonical instance of dating a girl in «Viral Campaign». Apart from his living friends, he has no one else. It wasn't until Ethan's death that he found something resembling a normal life. Chris helped Ethan's wife raise and educate their daughter Rose, becoming an uncle and father figure to her. It is unknown if Chris ever returned to alcoholism after his amnesia, but I can assume it is unlikely. A lot of things happened to him during that period of his life that affected his view of the world. Surely he no longer allows himself to behave so recklessly, even in the most stalemate situation.

Interesting detail, Chris is constantly contrasted with Wesker, as if he's a better version of him. Both were Alpha squad captains, both have blood type 0, and were once the same weight class and same height. Probably the same eye color, as well as great weapons proficiency. Their encounters in re5 don't look like a fight, it's more like a dance between two people with equally good fighting skills. Sure, Wesker is much stronger than Chris due to his situation with the virus, but he never let himself use more strength than necessary to keep Chris fighting him, prolonging any fight with him. It's possible that Wesker's attempt to kill Chris in «Lost in Nightmares» is just a ruse, and he was going to toss him aside somewhere, as he never seriously intended to hurt him enough. Chris' age at the time of his last official appearance in re8 is 48, which matches Wesker's age at the time of his supposed death. Their conflict isn't over yet, so it's fully expected that Wesker survived and will once again surprise Christopher with his presence. They need to finish what they started, as adults and having already been through a lot. Without the pointless fights that the current Chris is unlikely to get into. There's no telling what the modern Wesker might be like, but if he's stayed in the shadows for so many years, it's not like he's planning to be too reckless either.

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

Due to a misunderstanding, I would like to supplement my text. This analysis is only my personal interpretation and my personal view of the character and his story. I do not claim that it is 100% canon, because canon is so vague and disjointed that it is impossible to fully assemble it objectively. Everyone is entitled to have an interpretation different from mine. Best wishes to all!

[incorrectbatfam]

If the batkids had never become a bat what superhero would they sidekick as instead, in your opinion?

I don't think all of them would've automatically become another hero's sidekick. Think about it: of the nearly 2 billion kids on Earth, only an atomic fraction of them get to witness superheroes firsthand, and even fewer go on to become sidekicks or heroes themselves.

Without Batman taking him on, I don't think Dick would've stuck around Gotham for very long after his parents' deaths. Canonically, he spent some time in the foster system, but I can easily see him ending up someplace else. My headcanon, because I'm a sucker for friends finding each other across timelines: he ends up in Central City and becomes best friends with Wally. They grow up together, but without the burden of superhero responsibilities. Instead of hanging out in Barry's lab, Wally is with Dick that day, so he never gains powers. Dick becomes an honorary West-Allen and instead of being a vigilante or cop, he pursues justice another way by becoming a journalist like Iris. But even with the West-Allens' company, he still goes home to his solo apartment and stays up at night wondering what it'd be like to come home to something different.

Jason still grows up in Crime Alley and tries to steal the Batmobile's tires. Bruce is still sympathetic and takes Jason in. But without Dick, there's no Robin and no mantle to inherit, so Jason becomes Bruce's son and his son only. He goes to school, has his friends and hobbies, and he knows about Batman but Bruce is adamant about keeping him out of danger. He never dies, so that's a plus. Without Dick or Wally as founding members of the Teen Titans, the only times he interacts with Roy are a small handful of corporate trips or galas in Star City. He grows up as an only child, which isn't special in itself. But every time he's greeted with an empty house, he can't help but wonder if things should be different. It's something he can't put to words himself, let alone talk to Bruce or Alfred, so he keeps to himself the pervading feeling that something—somethings—is missing.

Since Batman exists though, so would little Tim's determination to deduce Batman's identity. But as brilliant as he is, it's much more difficult when he can't match the butts Robin's acrobatic moves with the Flying Graysons. He narrows down the possibilities, but there are still a number of people who could fit Batman's profile. And when he finally figures it out... there's nothing else to do. There's no Robin opening for him to blackmail his way into. What I can see him doing is trying to become a new sidekick, but after Bruce turns him down, he just goes and creates his own justice-seeking persona anyway. But there's a different air to it. He doesn't have Robin—a fellow kid—to model himself after. Plus, he's on his own. There is no batfamily or Young Justice. And it's likely his parents would be still alive, so I think that would shape him into a more jaded vigilante—perhaps even an anti-hero. He's got a more different MO, and he's both a valuable ally and formidable opponent. But he still feels like he's not where he should be.

Damian would still be raised by the League of Assassins, but without the Robin precedent, Talia really wouldn't have a reason to send him to Gotham and train with Bruce. I want to be a little optimistic though, so I think instead of growing up to be the League's heir, he starts to see how messed up everything is and makes his getaway, similar to Cass. I headcanon that he crosses paths with Cass and, with their shared background and understanding of each other, they take on the world together. Instead of being assassins or vigilantes, they work together to unlearn their fighting instinct. I see one of two outcomes: their past catches up to them and they have to make a stand, or they're never caught and they open a cat café together instead. I like the latter better. Cass makes the drinks and Damian tends the cats. Despite the tranquility, there's an unspoken agreement between them that what they have isn't the full picture.

Barbara still becomes Batgirl, because that's what Bette was before her, and she works in tandem with Batman and Batwoman. But without Dick, her relationship with the bats is purely business. She still gets shot, becomes disabled, and continues her career as Oracle as well as her relationship with the Birds of Prey. I think eventually, Steph, who starts out as Spoiler as per canon, becomes Babs's mentee as Batgirl, but not Bruce's (again, no Robin). They don't have any connections to Dick or Tim, so instead, they use that time to build a sisterly type of relationship. Rather than dying and then coming back as Spoiler, Steph carries on being Batgirl. But when patrols are done and she hangs up the cowl to work on the latest cases with Babs, she can't help but notice that HQ is too cold and quiet. But she can't explain why.

Harper and Cullen get away from their abusive dad and Harper tries her hand at college before dropping out. Batman still saves them and Harper becomes Bluebird, but because vigilantes aren't as normalized, she's met with more skepticism from her brother. Nonetheless, she pushes on. But it's a lonelier pursuit. There's no one she can call for backup, no one who understands her problems, and the only person to patch her up is an inexperienced Cullen. Without Batman at the center, she turns out a little like Tim—she develops her own moral compass which might not necessarily agree with the other heroes. The victories are bittersweet as every decision is second-guessed, but the silver lining is that the siblings still got each other. Still, sometimes they wish they weren't all that they have.

Duke would never have been part of We Are Robin nor become Bruce's protegé after that. Again, I'm going with the good timeline, so Duke's parents are okay and he grows up normally. He develops his powers, but doesn't get much guidance besides the secondhand information he gleans from reading about other metahumans. He probably wouldn't take to the streets, but instead, uses his powers to trace back evidence and provide the vigilantes help in a behind-the-scenes way. Maybe he incidentally comes across a shard of Nth metal while surveying a crime scene. And since Nth metal allows him to see into other dimensions, that's actually what happens when he takes it home.

But he can't make heads or tails of what he sees. A traffic light uniform, then a blue uniform gracefully flipping from a skyscraper. Teenage heroes gathered with pizza. A crowbar, an explosion, and a red helmet. Cameras and clones and wingsuits. A child getting dropped off by his mother and being mentored by a Batman that looks different from this one. Busier commlinks, Batgirl using sign language, a hero-themed restaurant. Himself, wearing red and green, surrounded by kids he's never seen.

And then it gets weird. All those strangers out of uniform. A kitchen table with a blonde girl and a guy with a white streak arm wrestling for the last slice of pie. A spiky-haired kid switching the salt and sugar, then an older teen putting the wrong one in his coffee. The Waynes' butler feeding two dogs, a cat, a cow, and a turkey. A young woman in a wheelchair trying on new scarves with a blue-haired girl and her brother. A red-headed woman and a woman in a fuzzy cat sweater debating something. The oldest kid and an Asian girl sharing their playlists. And in the middle of it all is Duke himself, sitting in a living room with CEO Bruce Wayne, sipping hot apple cider while making fun of a bad movie.

Then Duke puts the shard down and covers it. He doesn't know what it all means. Should he should go downstairs and tell his parents, or wait to tell one of the vigilantes?

In the end, he does neither. Some missing pieces are better kept secret.

[gffa]

If the batfamily were in the gffa, which ones of them do you think would have been jedis? How quickly do you think they would have joined the nascent rebellion?

Absolutely NONE of them would have been Jedi, I say with all fondness towards the Batfam, but they are emotional hot messes, every single one of them, and to be a Jedi you literally have to have your emotional shit together, that's straight up how the Force works. You cannot act out of anger or fear without slinking towards the dark side, the Force will throw all that right back in your face, and I don't think there's a single Batfam member that doesn't consistently act out of a place of anger. Bruce - My guy can't even keep it together without a psychic energy field in his brain that resonates with his emotional well-being, he would fall to the dark side inside a month. I love him, but he already thinks he has things under control in his brain that he very much does not, he is the definition of being created by fear of loss and the anger that results from it. Dick - My Blorbo may be the definition of hope and light in the DC universe, the most trusted hero right after Superman, but he absolutely has anger issues that he just kind of ignores. Psychics in the DC universe have tried to invade his mind and come out like, "Jesus fuck why is that guy's mind so terrifying!?" because, while Dick chooses kindness and love, he was also forged in anger at the injustices in the world. Jason - Sweet babygirl doesn't even know what he wants, I tend to see Jason as often times deeply contradictory because I'm not sure he knows how he feels about things, does he want to be part of his family or does he want to walk away from them, he wants their love, but he can't tolerate their love, he thinks everyone expects the worst from him and is angry ahead of time, because he's so deeply insecure about his place in the world and in his family, and the injustices of his life are ones that still haunt him, the Joker killing him and still getting to run around would drive him into anger, fear, and despair just as much as anyone. Tim - My guy is ready to tell anyone and everyone to fuck the fuck off at the drop of a hat, that he's often times the one trying to pull everyone back together, but he also is still haunted by the death of his parents, he's still unsure of his relationship with Bruce at times, when things get back and he loses a little too much in his life, he starts pushing people away, he pushed Dick and Steph away while Bruce was dead, he obsessed over bringing Kon back as a way to cope, rather than actually letting go of his hurts, that guy seems fairly even keel sometimes, but, no, he's a hot mess who would have the Force throwing all that back in his face, too. Damian - Baby bat is so insecure in a lot of ways, because he doesn't always know how to relate to his father, he doesn't know how to be a complement to Bruce the way the other Robins did, they're both brooders, they're both the kind who wear their anger on their sleeves, and have a core fear of loss that would have the dark side hissing in their ears. Barbara - In some ways, Babs is more emotionally stable than the others, but in other ways, she is JUST as unhinged as they are, her fury at the Joker is still lingering all around her heart, she still explodes in anger when something pisses her off, she's still a little afraid of commitment because she's scared to open herself up, she still has to deal with her spinal implant not being perfect, Babs probably has a stronger sense of what her problems are, but it's not like she does anything about them half the time. Cassandra - I think she still feels too much guilt about her past, even if none of it was her fault, but that she can't let go of that pain, and it's not just "bad" anger/fear that draws you to the dark side, it's also "good" anger/fear that lures you there, too. And Cass deals with a lot of that and, while I think she'd probably have the best chance of any of them at making it as a Jedi, she does still have a lot of issues that the Force would be throwing back in her face.

Stephanie - I'd give her the second best chance, she at least sometimes recognizes her fears and says, yeah, I'm afraid, I'm just not going to let it stop me. Steph has as much anger and need to punch the world as any of them do, but I think she might have a chance at changing up her thought patterns enough to make it. Duke - Hmm, I'm not sure I've read enough with Duke yet to tell what his underlying issues are and how much he's dealt with them. He seems fairly stable and willing to back off when he needs to, but in general, if you're a Bat, you've probably got some real anger to work on. Kate - Everything I've read of Kate is definitely "wants to punch things in the face" or "feels torn up about her relationships with people" and that she's not really interested in not being those things. Alfred - It depends on how you view him, I guess. If you see him as someone who has made peace with the lives his family has chosen and willing to understand that they are who they are, then I could see Alfred as a Jedi. But if you lean into the idea of a British Stiff Upper Lip where he just doesn't talk about the anguish he goes through seeing his family get hurt night after night, knowing he can't stop them, then no he would be a terrible Jedi. In short: THEY WOULD ALL SUCK AS JEDI, but they would definitely have started their own Rebel cell even before Bail and Mon and Leia started connecting the various individual groups together!

[gunilslaugh]

The One I Like

Hello! Hello! I'm actually really excited about this post because it is a collab with @odesonnets!!! (They're my blog bestie here on Tumblr 💕) part 2 here

Han Hyeongjun

Summary: Seungmin is your longtime best friend and his members are convinced that you two are secretly dating. Little did they know it was one of them who was actually in your heart.

WC:~1.4k

Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Over the course of yours and Seungmin’s friendship the two of you have been mistaken as a couple numerous times. At one point your own parents even questioned you about the true nature of the relationship between you and Seungmin. The truth was that you and Seungmin were best friends. That was it. There has never been any romantic feelings between you two.

Alas no matter how much you both tried to set the record straight it seemed like there was always someone(s) who insisted that you guys were a couple. Right now those someones being Seungmin’s members, Xdinary Heroes.

“Anytime I tell the members that I’m hanging out with you they tell me to have fun on my date and it’s starting to get so annoying,” Seungmin stated as he entered your room and flopped down onto your bed. He grabbed a pillow to rest his head on and let out a huff. 

“Haven’t you told them that we’re just friends?” you checked as you climbed onto the bed, sitting criss crossed and bringing a pillow to hold on your lap. 

“I correct them everytime, but they just don’t seem to believe me. They’re convinced that we’re dating, but don’t want to admit for whatever reason,” Seungmin explained. You let out an annoyed sigh of your own. 

“Hyeongjun thinks that we’re dating too?” you asked in a disappointed voice. Seungmin props himself up on his elbows to send you a sympathetic look. He knows all about your hopeless pining over his bandmate, because he can’t escape it. He always has to hear you go on and on about how much you like him. To which he always teases you for being down bad for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re so lucky.” You randomly told Seungmin. He quirks up an eyebrow in confusion. 

“What?” he asked. 

“You get to see Hyeongjun everyday,” you say. 

“Here we go again,” Seungmin muttered under his breath. Getting ready to listen to you rant about Hyeongjun, yet again.

“You know how lucky that is right? You get to be with a cute, talented, amazing, handsome, cool, heart fluttering.” Seungmin stopped listening by this point, but you kept listing Hyeongjun’s qualities. 

“Y/n if you really think that he’s so great tell him yourself!” Seungmin raised his voice slightly.

“I can’t. I don’t know how to talk to him,” you whined. 

“You’ve hung out with him before,” Seungmin stated. 

“That was a group thing with you and the rest of the members. Plus my heart was beating so fast when I was standing beside him I could barely form coherent sentences.”

“You are truly pathetic,” he told you. 

“I know leave me alone,” you grumbled. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seungmin was currently walking you back home after you had game night with them at their dorm. You were walking with a dopey smile on your face, occasionally giggling as you kept your fingers pressed to a spot on your forehead. 

“Have you actually lost your mind?” Seungmin looked at you with a very judgemental look.

“He flicked me so gently.” You smiled like an idiot. You had lost a game and the other players getting to flick your forehead was the penalty. While some members showed you no mercy, cough Jiseok, other members were much nicer i.e Hyeongjun. It only made you more lovesick for him.

“Ok, yes, you’ve gone completely delusional,” Seungmin declared. You dropped your hand from your forehead and swatted Seungmin in the arm. 

“I have not!” you refuted. “I just really like him,” you claimed as you awkwardly kicked a stone from the pavement. 

“I know you do.” Seungmin patted your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking back Seungmin really doesn’t know how his members think that he is the one you like. Obviously he knows that they are oblivious to all of your helpless pining. They’re never around you to witness your heart eyes when Hyeongjun posts a new selca or hear you talk about how great he is and how much you like him, but how did they fail to notice your pink cheeks wherever you are around Hyeongjun. How you stand just a bit closer to him compared to the other members. The way your eyes seemingly always find their way to look at him. To Seungmin it was obvious that you liked Hyeongjun, but was it not so obvious to someone with an outside perspective?

“I don’t know for sure.” Seungmin tried to give you some bit of hope. “I mean he plays along with the others when they tell me to have fun on my date with you and stuff, but that’s it. He never instigates that we’re dating. He has never asked me if we’re actually dating or not either, so I don’t know,” he explained. You nodded your head. However you’re not really sure what to make out of that information. Was it good or bad that Hyeongjun never asked if you and Seungmin were actually dating? Does he not ask cause he thinks it’s true or does he not ask because he thinks it isn’t true? Does he simply not care if you and Seungmin are dating or not? 

Suddenly a pillow is thrown at you snapping you from your thoughts. 

“I could see the wheels turning in your head. Was probably about to see smoke coming out of your ears any second.” Seungmin teased you. In retaliation you hit Seungmin back with the pillow you had on your lap. Seungmin laughs.

“It’s not funny. It’s bad if Hyeongjun believes that we’re dating,” you pouted. 

“Then how about you just tell him that you like him and end our dating rumors,” Seumgmin tells you.

“I can’t do that. There’s no way that he likes me back, especially if he thinks that we’re dating.” 

“What if I found out what he thinks then? I’ll ask him if he thinks that we’re dating or not?” Seungmin suggested. 

“What if he does think that we’re dating?” you expressed your concern. 

“I’ll very vehemently tell him that we’re not. That you are very much single…..and hopelessly in love with him,” he teased you at the end. 

“You better not tell him the last part!” you yelled, hitting him with your pillow once more. Seungmin laughs menacingly and hits you back with his pillow, turning it into a pillow fight. 

Seungmin returned back to the dorm after spending a few hours with you. 

“Back from your date?” Jooyeon played as soon as he saw Seungmin come in through the door. 

“It wasn’t a date. How many times must I tell you guys that y/n and I are just friends?”

“Seungmin, it's ok. You can tell us the truth.” Jiseok now joined in on the fun. 

“The truth is that we’re best friends,” Seungmin emphasized the last two words.

“Maybe it’s y/n who doesn’t want to say that they’re dating. Maybe they’re scared about Seungmin receiving backlash from it, so they're the one insisting that they are just ‘best friends’” Gunil spoke as he entered the room. Seungmin let out a sigh, bringing his hands up to rub his face.

“No, we say that we are best friends because that’s what we are,” Seungmin spoke sternly. 

“Ok,” Jooyeon said. 

“Sure,” Jiseok chimed. 

“If you say so,” Gunil added. It was clear that none of them believed him. Seungmin was becoming very annoyed with them, but right now what they thought didn’t matter. What Hyeongjun thought is what mattered.

Seungmin went to find Hyeongjun and found him in his room, sitting on the bed strumming on his guitar. 

“Hey Hyeongjun can I talk to you?” Seungmin asked.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Hyeongjun responded, setting his guitar aside. 

“Do you think that y/n and I are actually dating?” he prompted. Confusion came over Hyeongjun’s face. 

“Why?” Hyeongjun asked perplexed. 

“I need you to know that we’re not dating. We are just friends,” Seungmin told. 

“..Ok?” Hyeongjun thought that Seungmin was acting strange. 

“Don’t fall for it, Hyeongjun. They’re definitely dating,” Jungsu said as he entered the room. Seungmin face palms. Why? Jungsu why? He thinks. 

“Ah, is Seungmin trying to convince Hyeongjun that him and y/n are just friends?” Gunil enters the room right behind Jungsu. 

“We really are just friends.” Seungmin feels like he’s snapping. 

“Why does it matter if they’re friends or dating though?” Hyeongjun put to question. 

“Because y/n is hopelessly in love with you,” Seungmin slipped. 

“What!” Gunil, Jungsu and Hyeongjun yelled in unison. Seungmin smacked his hand over his mouth. You were so going to kill him.

…to be continued.

part 2

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

Pt 1.5 of my little one-shot ficlet (maybe turning into a series)

The last time Lydia saw her dad she was four years old.

Everyone knew the story of Steve Harrington. Rich athlete turned good guy, left his family for a bunch of randoms he met around town. Eventually moving out of town with the town freak, if you asked around you got a different reason why.

If you asked Lydia you'd hear that her parents were in love. Still are since her Pa never moved on.

Lydia only remembers a soft smile, hair that resembles her own, and can sometimes still feel the warmth in his hug.

When Lydia was five years old Steve Harrington loses his battle with Vecna but succeeds killing the fucker once and for all. He's a hero. His family has lost a member.

When Lydia is 25 she is surrounded by her family, commonly referred to as the party, on her wedding day. She stares into the mirror, seeing a reflection of her father staring back at her.

"I wish he was here" she states

"We all do, you know I miss him more than anything in the world" her Pa lays his hand on her shoulder, tears welling in his eyes, a streak of gray is seen across his wild hair.

----------

Then Lydia wakes up on a couch.

She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't even know much about the Upside Down. But she does know how it played out. She knows the steps. She knows she wants to see her dad again. So she does. She can hear him from outside the door complaining about something.

"Steve, you have a visitor" she can hear her Aunt Robin whispering, trying to remain calm.

"In the back room...?"

Lydia gasps. She hasn't heard his voice in so long she forgot what it sounds like. Tears well in her eyes, her body shaking.

"You can't miss her...she's the one in white"

"...right"

The door slowly opens up revealing the face she's seen haunting her her entire life. The face she dreamed of seeing again.

"Hello?" He asks quietly, taking in her appearance, shocked "I don't know who put you up to this but-oompf"

He's knocked down, Lydia's arms wrapped around him as she sobs, laughter escaping through. She pulls off of him slightly taking in his shocked expression, the way his eyes softened just a bit when he sees her.

"Are you ok ma'am?"

Ma'am? Ma'am right ok, she's older than her dad that's fine that's totally cool ok ok ok.

"Ma'am?"

"RIGHT!" she clears her throat "right. Yeah I'm fine. Sorry about" she gestures to their current position "all this"

She doesn't think he's blinked once.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" He sounds worried.

"This is gonna be a long story."

------

Author's note:

See the thing w time travel is that you do one thing it changes everything right? So obviously she can't just flat out say "hey I'm your kid btw you're in a relationship with a guy you just met 6 months ago blah blah you died period." So my brain is trying to figure out how to do the rest in a polite fashion. Think about sitting someone down and explaining "Hey you're my surrogate" too. I'm deciding whether to go the surrogacy route or the adoption route.Obviously, next step would be to bring in her Pa and the party yay!

Let me know if you like this! I love interactions :)

[cerealboxlore]

you know those posts where cap’s seen as a dad figure? what if one of the reasons why the other superheroes think that way is because when league members bring up there kids or need cap to cover for them when their kids need them cap is just super understanding, empathetic and gets oddly proud of them for being with there for their kids

the actual reason why he’s like that is because billy just really values those things as an orphan and is proud to work with such great people

Whenever someone mentions or even breathes the implication of Cap being mistaken as a dad or seen as a father figure, I lose my marbles, because, oh cheese and crackers, I just can't express enough how much I adore this headcanon! I'm doin' a little happy dance :D

Billy Batson is someone who has always yearned and wished to be a part of a family again since his experience was cut short due to tragedy and made sour thanks to his uncle Ebeneezer being crusty dusty, so it's easy to see him respecting those who appreciate the family they have. He had to grow up and mature far faster than any kid his age, and compared to most adults, Billy is actually more mature and responsible than they are, unfortunately. It's reasonable to see that this would be reflected in Captain Marvel; someone who's immature at times, but ultimately a good-natured person with a golden heart and good intentions, who others can depend on anytime and anywhere (much to the sacrifice of his personal life).

Billy has been in enough foster homes at a young age to know the difference between a good parent and a rotten one, so seeing members of the league prioritize their family members and kids would make him really happy. He's the type to take on any shift or mission in the place of another member if they had something important to do with their family. What you said about him being very proud and empathetic towards parents in the league made me realize that Billy would have loved to have parents like them had his own not perished. In a way, he's not just proud of them, but a little bit envious.

This also brings up another headcanon of mine, where Captain Marvel is the unofficial designated babysitter of the league when emergencies come up. Because despite not knowing who he is/his secret identity, people trust him enough to let him know theirs. Like, it all starts with the Captain in the watchtower break room drinking apple juice, and is suddenly bombarded with a group of children or sidekicks being thrown at him by the other heroes, saying that the Captain was in charge while they were away before teleporting away.

All these kids and teenagers that he suddenly has to help look after, and while Captain Marvel is calm on the outside, Billy Batson is freaking out on the inside. Some of those kids are older than he is, and there's some hilarity to it. Shenanigans ensue in the Captain Marvel: Adventures in Babysitting day, but it all turns out okay in the end. As a kid, Billy would know how to talk to them and keep them busy with fun/educational stuff. Might even teach them a thing or two about good morals, manners, archeology, or ancient magic stuff.

I imagine some of those kids would want to be babysat by him again, and Billy would welcome it (with warning ahead of time). Captain Marvel is just someone people like being around with his good dad vibes. Some of them even ask if he has kids of his own, but are met with an empty room immediately as the man zooms off whenever people ask him questions about family.

Gosh I went rambling again, but I loved this ask!