#like yes there is still a long way to go and we still have to vote

[six-eyed-samurai]

My eyes narrow. Ah, it appears I am thirsty and I must now go get a glass from the water dispenser despite and therefore closer to this supposed alien killer. Jessica from HR side eyes me, having seen me just finish my cup of coffee; I cough and choke out a little show for her benefit, faking a need for the icy cold water.

The portly man seems oddly familiar in the way all portly men with fedoras, a paintbrush worthy moustache and a pinstripe suit on television are familiar. His loafers, impeccable. His laugh, booming. For all the world he looked like anyone's Uncle Jim, the one who sneaked you a little extra pocket money despite your mother's clear disapproval, drank expensive wine and smoked overlarge cigars. He should not be familiar, however, for this was his first day at my office job.

He's shuffling about, mingling, getting to know the crowd. I have half a mind to warn him not to shake Timothy's hand, not when his statistics were BOOGERS PICKED: 9.5, or to stop him from whispering whatever whisper he was into Annette's ear because RUMOURS SPREAD: 168. But if I go over there....make myself known, a chat or two...no, I don't want him to figure out my secret yet. Not until I figure out his.

Extraterrestrials. It could be a video game thing, I reminded myself as he moved towards the lifts. Or a nickname for a type of new insect pest. Oh, who am I kidding? I must know. I must.

Will you look at the time? It appears I will be late for a meeting with my manager, so excuse me, I think I'll quickly head to level two via the lifts... it's going down?...my bad, Mr. Campbell is waiting in the...parking basement, yes.

We're alone in the elevator now. I'm convinced I know that cough, that ridiculous tie pin, that pig snuffle of a sneeze into an embroidered handkerchief. What was an extraterrestrial hunter like him doing in corporate? Perhaps, like me, we needed mone-

"Why, it's you! I'd recognise that old briefcase anywhere!" He chortles and outstretches his hand. "It's old Watson, old boy! I saw you last at that party at what's her name - Vanessa?"

Ah. Him. I shake his hand vigorously.

"Watson! I almost didn't recognize you without your beard, old chap."

He chortles again and corrects his earlier statement. "Venusia, I meant, that Martian cow who's always got too much to drink."

I nod sagely. Watson was here after all, for the same reasons as me: we needed mone-TR FXX 10073 back at base. I gesture at his statistics. "I see three new additions to your alien elimination score since I saw you last."

"Ah well." He puffs up his chest modestly. "Business as usual."

"Hear, hear." The lift doors ding open and I step out smugly, straightening my coat and shooting him a pleased look. "As long as you remember I'm still one up above you, Cousin, with twenty eight."

You were born with the unique power to see the most interesting "stat" of a person floating over their head. For most, it's stuff like "TIMES WON GAMES OF POKER: 43," or "PROMISES BROKEN: 105." Today, you glance up at someone sitting nearby to see "EXTRATERRESTRIALS KILLED: 27."

[skyedancer-system]

Going into Poppy Playtime Chap. 4 I was not expecting to get halfway decent plural rep but here we are????

Spoilers for the new chapter under the cut, and also cw for all the general Poppy Playtime stuff (child death + experimentation, body horror, if you know the game you get the gist)

SO THIS GUY HUH

Doey the Doughman, the surprise character revealed just days before the chapter dropped and who finally answered the question of the red/orange/yellow hand imagery we’ve been getting teased with for so long

In the chapter himself he’s pretty important to the plot and is an ally to the player, Poppy, and Kissy for (most of) the chapter, and he’s a pretty nice guy just with a bit of a temper, and very overwhelmed by having to keep the Safe Haven together and protected in Poppy’s absence.

But his personal story? How he was created via Playtime Co.’s Bigger Bodies Initiative? Oh god it’s honestly one of the most messed up ones yet other than Yarnaby (and that’s saying something considering this is child experimentation we’re talking about, and Yarnaby lost his entire self and was treated like a straight up animal, isolated so he would love and obey Harley and only Harley)

Where most of the living toys were made from one child, Doey was made from three. Jack, a visitor to the factory that got caught in a freak accident and was taken into Playtime’s care for his medical recovery. Kevin, a problem child in the Playcare known for his anger issues. And Matthew, an extremely kind boy who tried to keep hopes up among all the orphans in the Playcare, and was a sort of leader to them.

And all three of them are still present in some form; at various points in the game you see them switch, speaking and thinking differently, with varying opinions on everything happening. And from the tape of the Jack’s parents seeing what Playtime did to their son, we see that the three have separate memories as well, at least they did when they were first put together.

And this plurality that was forced onto them isn’t played for scary points like you’d expect from a mascot horror game. Yes it is part of Doey’s monstrous design once they get upset, but them being upset is because everything they had worked to protect was destroyed by the Prototype. All of the other kids turned toys that had kept their consciousness and relied on Doey for protection, mercilessly killed. Anybody would be horrifically upset in that situation. And one of the three boys - Kevin - lashes out at the player, the other two trying to calm him down only for all of them to fall into anger and emotion.

You can clearly see the three kids; one angry, two sad, all of their emotions coming together into a grief induced rage, with physical pain only compounding it. And when you eventually have to kill them and put them out of their misery, their last words?

“I’m sorry.”

They were just kids; three kids forced into a horrible situation and having to learn to live with it. And for a long time it seems that they did, working together rather peacefully until their lives were upheaved by the arrival of the player and Poppy’s reappearance.

Kevin’s anger at everyone and the world is completely justified; I mean he and the other two were experimented on and then kept caged like animals, being practically forced to kill! He wanted to protect them; to avenge the countless others that had been killed by the Playtime scientists and the Prototype! And considering things only went to shit after the player and Poppy showed up? Well it’s no wonder that anger got directed at them

It it a super good depiction of plurality? No, not by a long shot. But it’s definitely way better than I would expect from a game like Poppy Playtime.

I was not expecting this post to get this long whoops fbsnbdns; if anyone else has anything they want to add though we’d love to hear it!

[somerandompun]

I was going to put this in the tags but realized I have a lot to say on this.

Anywho, to begin, I am a modern-day Homestuck fan and My Little Pony FIM fan (yes, yes, I hear you, to be cringe is to be free or whatever) but my heaviest special interests rn are Bottoms, Ginger Snaps, and Wednesday, all of which either barely have fandoms due to low popularity at release (Ginger Snaps) or due to the fandom dying off (Wednesday, Bottoms).

I fuel my own fandom, essentially, writing pages upon pages of self-serving fanfic, making headcanons, etc, but I miss the type of fandoms I used to be in. Carmilla was popular when I was in middle school (lol, I'm 22 shush), and that was an insane time to be in that fandom space as it was so new, so full of life. There are still people who write for Carmilla today, though the fandom was never really "at large" due to the fact Carmilla was not very mainstream (YouTube series L).

Similarly, I do not see much of the Orphan Black or Orange Is the New Black fandoms today, both of which I also was a part of during their primes. Sure, people still write for them, but they similarly lack people who held on.

And then there's Bottoms and Wednesday, two fandoms I thought would hold on for a loooooong time given the content and all (everyone's fav nihilist and lesbian fight club), but they didn't. I still regularly read fics from both fandoms, make moodboards, the likes, but it feels hollow, no new content being generated like it used to.

I have a theory about this, mostly that most people stopped sustaining fandoms with the rise in disdain for fans in 2020, especially those viewed as "cringe," think about all the "cringe" tiktok compilations on YouTube, mostly involving kids just cosplaying as their favs. This rise in online bullying to in-person bullying sorta ostracized anyone who liked something "too much." To be quite honest, I was one of those kids in middle school, odd, strange, and "too much," and, at times, I feel like I cannot discuss my interests or share them due to feeling like I will be shoved aside and ostracized yet again.

Similarly, I think we lack heavy fandom spaces simply because people do not wish to or cannot focus that much energy on media anymore. For fucks sake, Yellow Jackets should be much more popular than it is, much like how OITNB was. Bottoms should have been a phenomenon. We MOST LITERALLY used to pray for days like these, days where shows and movies consisted of so much queer content, esp queer women! Do y'all remember how bad it was for a while? What, we had trauma porn show where everyone gets shit on or dies all the time (OITNB), lesbian killer shows (The 100), shows with toxic lesbian situationships/relationships (OB), web series (Carmilla), and fucking kid's shows (Steven Universe). Now, that's not saying those shows are bad (except for the 100, which I have a grudge against bc my Anya, MY SHAYLLAAAA), but God, I would've killed to have Bottoms or Wednesday around when I was still in school.

Anywho, all of this is just a long-winded way to say: please create content, be the change you wanna see in fandom spaces. Make that Pinterest board, be a fandom blog, post shitty fanfic, argue in the tags, make headcanons, watch and rewatch more things you enjoy, engage with things even if they feel cringy, please, fandom space depends on all of us and our passions! Do not bow to people who view creation and passion as cringe!

TO BE CRINGE IS TO BE FREE

personally I think it’s a shame how fandoms “died” too soon these days. I’m not talking in literal sense and I know there are people who stay passionate about their fandoms long after the hype is gone. I’m talking about the “popularity” and how people in general engage with a piece of media they like and how fast they let the hype die down? I don’t know if I’m making any sense, but what I’m trying to say is a fanfic or a fan art of a show that is recently released will get tons of likes, comments, reblogs which is great. but the engagement for fan made content about that same show usually drops drastically — and I mean drastically — once the show is no longer “recent”. and I’m not even talking about when the show is several years old. because you can see the significant drop of engagement a fanfic or fan art about that show receives once the show is like a month old or two. it’s discouraging how most people tend to lose interest and stop engaging with fanfic / fan art once its source material is no longer “new and shiny”.

especially when writing fanfics and creating fan art take time. writers and artists often receive less engagement / appreciation for their works if they take “too long” to create and the source material is no longer “new and shiny” and so people move on to something else that’s new and shiny. it’s heartbreaking to see.

obviously this is in no way to manipulate or guilt trip people into engaging with anything. because yeah you can do whatever you want. this isn’t to force, manipulate or guilt trip anyone into liking or reblogging a fan work or anything. this is just me hoping people will one day take things slower and enjoy things they’re passionate about longer like how we used to in the past.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 4

I may have girl bossed a bit too close to the sun and finished Chapter 5 and 6 too- I'm not quite happy with those so I'll go through them again before posting Ch5 😅

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 4 >>next

Well, we all knew they would never have time for you. They never do until it’s too late. That’s why funerals are for the living to say goodbye, to mourn, to let go of the guilt. It still hurt… It hurt so much to be brushed off by Alfred, to be ignored by Bruce, to be yelled at by Dick. You couldn’t even think of Jason without tearing up, and Tim was just straight-up mean. But at least he was honest. Cassandra and Barbara’s avoidance hurt the most since they were your only female interaction in years.

Everything you tried to do to prove yourself was, at best, ignored, at worst, compared to someone else and diminished. You had nothing in common with Richard besides knowing a few of the same bands. But that wasn’t enough to raise his interest in interacting with you. Every time he looked at you it was like he was angry and sad at the same time.

Jason and you were so similar. Finally, someone you could relate to, who knew how life on the streets was, how terrifying the big space of the Wayne residence was compared to the lives you once had. And yet he was more interested in Dick, no matter how rude the oldest boy was. You couldn’t blame him, you also wanted Richard’s attention. Your heart felt like it was rolled through needles and lemon juice when Jason got everything you wanted just for you to watch him get buried. Dick was angry when Jason first showed up, jealous, but by the time Jason grew up he was just as angry. You hoped that wouldn’t happen to you.

You were a great student, thriving in your classes and finishing middle school earlier than others, what else were you supposed to do when you had no friends? Of course, that was nothing to Tim’s brilliance. And every time you tried to bond with him on that or show him your achievements it would be a tired “I don’t have time for you.” or an uninterested “I achieved that when I was younger than you.”

Barbara is everything you wanted to be when older, smart, beautiful, had friends and the family's attention. It hurt so much to see her get along with Cassandra but not you, never you. And Cassandra… You tried. You tried to befriend her without overwhelming her, but since the first introduction, she had started ignoring you too, downright leaving the room if you entered it. Bruce went to all her recitals, but he never had time for your galleries or competitions. You stopped asking everyone to come when you found the invites and pamphlets balled up and thrown in the trash bins.

By the time Duke and Stephanie came around you had given up, what use was it? It’ll be another rejection, so you just took care of the garden and did more art, your room overflowing with it. You spent at least half of the monthly allowance Bruce gave, and yet you could still be a millionaire.

You gave up on the Waynes, only speaking to them if they spoke to you. You were done with them, with their secrets, with how they would talk between each other in whispers and then get quiet when you stepped into the room. They’d always look at you like you were a stranger, an enemy. And perhaps you were. So, fuck them. Fuck the boys, fuck the girls, and fuck Bruce and Alfred too.

Sneaking out was the best thing you have done for yourself- sure it was a long way from the Manor to the city and back, but it was all worth it. It was worth it to see the other street kids, to hear their stories, to hang out with the homeless and the girls on their smoke break, it was worth everything when you found your mom’s grave. It was nice, it felt like home.

Was it dangerous? Yes. But as long as you stuck to Red Hood’s territory you were fine, his rule of keeping kids safe seemed to also apply to you. He was nice, even if he never spoke around you beyond hums and grunts, but you enjoyed how gentle he was with the other kid, how he ruffled your hair, and how he helped you clean your mom’s grave. He was nice, and surprisingly so were most other rogues.

Ivy enjoyed helping you with tips for the garden, some of the flowers you grew there on every 13th of the month were made into bouquets for her, your mom’s grave, and Jason’s too. Two-face was surprisingly nice about your inquiry of the law and Penguin enjoyed helping you with your business classes. The Riddler made you want to smash your head against a wall most of the time, but boy was he good with philosophy.

You avoided the Joker like the plague. You couldn’t find it in you to care for him when Harley reminded you so much of your mom when she came with a black eye or busted lip asking if you could take care of Bud and Lou for a jiffy. You could never say no to her.

If Red Hood wasn’t keeping an eye on you, it was Bane or Killer Croc, both men letting you climb and swing from them like a spider. They enjoyed seeing a kid not tremble in fear at the sight of them, despite whatever they may tell you. Mr. Freeze was nice too, lonely like you. Sad you simply couldn’t take the cold for long no matter how many layers you put on.

You loved them all to a degree, but Catwoman always made you feel like her kid, not just a kid. Sometimes you felt guilty for wanting to call her mom, you had a mom. But she made you feel all soft and mushy, calling you her kit, crying with you when you first heard her call you that. She thought she had hurt you, oh, how panicked she was. But her hug was so warm, so loving once she found out that no one had called you their kid in so long.  You wish she would steal you away, she does too, but she made a deal with Red Hood. Selina wishes she had just taken you and moved across the country, everyone be damned.

Unknowingly, you had created the garden to hold flowers that reminded you of all of them, even the Waynes. You couldn’t bring yourself to kill their flowers, to make bouquets of them or sell them- you just didn’t have it in you. So, you just kept on growing them, talking to them, and telling those flowers what your alleged family would never listen to. And then Bruce ruined it all.

He wasn’t sure why he did it, exhaustion or paranoia, maybe both? But all Bruce knew he was seeing is his mom’s garden flourishing after years of it being neglected, of Alfred overlooking it at Bruce’s request to focus on what rooms were being used inside the manor instead. He didn’t think twice about grabbing the pesticide designed for Poison Ivy, didn’t think about asking Alfred, about asking the kids, he just reacted.

Bruce was drinking his guilt away in his office, forehead pressed against his desk as one hand held a whiskey glass and the other gripped at his hair. He had never seen his youngest that angry, crying so much-… He wasn’t sure when the last time he saw her smile or hang around the family was.

“What have you done?!” He remembers how pained and angry you sounded as he killed the last flower, his flower. He remembers how he acted, how annoyance rose in him as he explained, and he remembers how his heart fell out of his ass when you said that you took care of the garden and that you spent years building it.

His face remained unmoving as his hands shook, as his jaw clenched, as he could feel the sky crash on his head in tempo with your tears falling down your cheeks. He tried to justify himself, come up with a lie, something that would make him feel less guilty, but- “Yeah?! Well, maybe you would have known if you actually spared a glance in my direction from time to time- You should have left me in an orphanage, no- it should have been you instead of mom!”

You were hurt, you didn’t mean it, he was sure. Even after you went into the manor, crying your heart out, Bruce still sat there. He wasn’t sure what he could do, the pesticide ruined the soil, he didn’t even remember what flowers he saw. The man just went into his daytime office, grabbed his father's liquor, and drank. Bruce knew he should go and apologize and try to talk to you. He poured himself another full glass, instead. Tonight, Batman will be sleeping, and tomorrow Bruce will raise your allowance. If he remembers.

You knew to some degree Bruce didn’t like you, but for him to not even notice that you poured your blood and sweat into that garden when Alfred and even Cassandra did felt like a punch to the gut. You were a good kid, you tried your best to be, so why was this the hand you were dealt? Did he honestly think the flowers in the manor were bought by Alfred? The old man was so busy the last thing on his mind was to buy flowers for the house.

You couldn’t believe him, you could only cry for the lost plants, for one of the three things that brought you happiness. You curled into a ball under the warm duvet, crying into your knees until you could not anymore. The shadows did their best to soothe you, lulling you to sleep as the exhaustion of crying helped them.

Dreams didn’t come easy to you, sure, you had the usual nightmare, but calm dreams were a rare occasion. And this one felt so nice as you drifted in the endless dark space, two figures you couldn’t quite make out helping you stay afloat as they talked… chanted? You weren’t sure. It sounded like Latin, but it also didn’t. No matter, it was soothing, warm, it was what you needed.

You felt light as a feather. You felt free and- you hit your head… The pain not only confuses you but also wakes you up, the throbbing on the side of your head making you groan. Your tired eyes looked around trying to figure out what you hit as your hand rubbed the sore spot.

Maybe you were still dreaming. You must still be dreaming. Panic set into your veins- there was no way this was actually happening, it couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t be a meta- Batman hated metas and he worked for your- he worked for Bruce- You were fucked.

It didn’t matter that as soon as it happened and you panicked your body hit the floor so hard it rattled your nightstand, making a framed picture fall and break, it didn’t matter that you didn’t register the pain, or notice that you broke the floorboard where you hid all your diaries and drawings you made for the family- all your brain knew is that you should leave before Batman throws you in Arkham or GSP.

So that’s what you did. You grabbed your sports bag that you used for art supplies, stuffed it with some clothes, your laptop, phone, the chargers, took a few sketchbooks and pens, and the card with Bruce’s money. Not like he’ll notice, he didn’t notice that you spent thousands every other week at a fast-food joint for the homeless and street kids, didn’t notice that you spent millions every other year at retail stores for the same people, he didn’t notice the donations. He was as blind as a bat.

“Leap of faith” is what Superman once said in an interview about how others with the power could learn to take off. “It’s just a leap of faith.” He was right- you almost pissed yourself, but he was right. You understood why he always was floating above the ground; it felt so freeing to fly, circling the manor to the top, feeling the air around you. It was so nice. You should move, fly away, and yet your eyes can’t leave the destroyed garden. You should make a few stops before fully leaving… just a few.

When each of the rogues found one singular flower in their favorite seat, their window sill, on the weapons and cars they owned, all withered and falling apart, they knew what it meant.

Ivy was the first, she knew the second the plants died. After all, she helped keep the plants alive, nothing could thrive on the Wayne land anymore, almost like it was cursed, as if Death herself lived on the grounds. But seeing the burned and greying orange trumpet vine told her everything she needed to know, that it wasn’t you who destroyed them. Bruce Wayne and the Bats didn’t know what was about to come their way.

You’ll miss your friends, the kids, the rogues. You’ll miss Catwoman, but she always told you to be a bit more selfish. This was the moment for that. Doubt settled in at some point, but you had nothing holding you attached to the Waynes, Catwoman couldn’t or just wouldn’t take care of you, it was time to let go and abuse Bruce’s ignorance, make a new life for you where you don’t need to hide in the night for some social interaction.

New York City should be the perfect place for it.

Tag List: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 12

Danny: Hey Alfred, I was going through some old files and I was wondering if you could explain something to me.

Alfred: Sure thing Master Daniel.

Danny: How long were each of the Robins, Robin?

Alfred: Well Dick was Robin from the time he was 14 till he was 17, when he decided to become Nightwing. After that your father was Robin from the time he was 14 till 16, when the Joker... killed him. He was gone for six months but by the time he retuned Tim had become the new Robin so your father become Red Hood. Tim was Robin from the ages of 14 to 17, Till Steph came to us and he gave the mantel of Robin to her and became Red Robin. Steph was Robin from the age of 17 to 18, she gave up the mantel to Damian when he was dropped off by Miss al Ghul and took the name Spoiler. Damian took up the mantel of Robin upon his arrival at the age of 10 and has been Robin for the last two years.

Danny: Ok, how old is everyone?

Alfred: Dick is 25, Jason is 22, hopefully you knew that one, Tim and Barbara are 20, Steph, Cass, and Duke are 19, Damian 12, Master Bruce is 34, and my age is classified information.

Danny (laughing): How do I gain clearance to access that information.

Alfred: I grant the clearance.

Danny: Can I have clearance?

Alfred: No.

They laughed.

Alfred: I must ask Danny, what brought along this line of questioning?

Danny: It's the way Bruce talks about the former Robins. The official reports state their ages the way you told them, but between the lines, and the way Bruce talks about their times of Robins I imagined they were all around ten when they took up the mantel.

Alfred: That's a reasonable conclusion to reach. Even though everyone, except Damian, were already teenagers when Bruce took them in, he's always talked about them as if they were little kids. And in all honesty he still does.

Danny: Hmm, interesting. Wait so Bruce took on Dick in when he was 24?

Alfred: Yes. Not even a fully grown adult, the brain doesn't fully develop till the age of 25, but yet Bruce decided to adopt a kid 10 years younger than him.

Danny: Our family is strange.

Alfred (sipping his tea): That it is.

Later at Jason and Danny's apartment.

Danny: Dad can I ask you something?

Jason: What is it kid?

Danny: How did everyone react when you came back to life?

Jason: Oh, that is a story! So after I fought my way back to the Land of the Living I woke up in my coffin and dug my way out. I was a bit disoriented, but somehow made my way around the manor to the front door. I remember nocking and Alfred opening the door and that's it. This part I got from Alfred, I feel into his arms, he called for Bruce, and I was sent to a medical bed in the Batcave. When I came to, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick where next to me. They were happy to see me again, but very confused as to how I came back to life. I explained my story, and Dick started laughing, saying only I of all people would fight my way back to being alive. Bruce on the other hand would not stop apologizing for my death, no matter how many times I told him I forgave him. That's also when I learned that Bruce had killed the Joker.

Danny: What about Tim?

Jason: Tim was hiding behind a wall. Poor kid thought I'd be mad at him for stealing my job as Robin. I told him I wasn't mad and that I was done with all the vigilante stuff for the time, and wanted to take a break. He was also a little worried that Bruce would kick him out but we all put a stop to those concerns, he was part of the family and he wasn't getting rid of us that easily. Anyways, the next day Bruce tackled my legally dead status by creating a fake body of me and putting it in the coffin. So when the police asked questions, they saw a very alive me, and a very fake body in the coffin, and Gotham being Gotham, they didn't ask further question, and my legally dead status was revoked.

Danny: Really? No further questions? Like where you've been for the last six months?

Jason: Nope. But I was allowed to keep my death certificate.

Danny: What about Gotham high society and the general population?

Jason: We told this story that some madmen had kidnapped me and that I managed to escape and make it home. Everyone bought it, or at least knew better than to question it.

Danny: Honestly, that checks out.

Jason: Anyways, after that I started helping Tim train, and after two months of rest I decided to jump back to work and took up the name of Red Hood, and started infiltrating Gotham's criminal underground and quickly rose the ranks. Keep in mind I didn't tell anyone, so Bruce got concerned about this new guy taking over Gotham's criminals and sent Tim to spy. I quickly caught him and brought him for an "interrogation." I expected Bruce to send Tim so I prepared an evil monologue and everything. After I was done monologuing I removed my mask and started lecturing Tim about how easily I caught him, and that Bruce, Dick, and I taught him better. Tim got mad and we started having a screaming match. Shortly after that Bruce arrived and saw us. Bruce was not happy that I decided to go back to vigilante business without saying anything, but he was proud of the work I was doing, so I got away with it. And that's more or less everything.

Danny: I love this family.

Jason: Yeah, we're great. I still have a grave, right next to grandma and grandpa. ... Please don't tell Bruce I called his Martha and Thomas, grandma and grandpa, poor guy will start crying and hugging me while calling me his son.

Danny (laughing): Don't worry I won't.

(Master Post)

Current ages

Bruce - 34

Alfred - [Classified]

Dick - 25

Jason - 22

Tim - 20

Barbara - 20

Steph - 19

Cass - 19

Duke - 19

Danny - 16

Damian - 12

[from-the-owls-nest]

mhm. what if you're too broken, in too tiny pieces, even the base too shattered to rebuild from. what if there's too little good left.

*swallow* that... that probably wasn't the most helpful answer. but I know what you mean. and I don't really have a fix or anything.

*drily, like, ironically* should probably clarify that the you in that first sentence meant me and just me. so. before you get any more ideas. because of course for Me that's Different! At least for my chaos brain tangles.

[ooc: Philosophy Below. idk brain ran away with thoughts call me if u find it /silly]

*silence, thinking over the words again* I don't know. All I can hope is that - that sentence from the movie Aria likes. When we can see no future, all we can do is the next right thing. the next little ray of sunlight. the next little moment of peace.

And if none of that is possible... Wait, and hold on, and look for them, and hope they come back soon. This is just my thoughts - my little agreement with myself. I gotta try the best I can, even if the best I can is a break from trying to recover. And then I'll know that Past Me did their best for me now and that I owe it to Future me to do my best for what they might become. Even if they weren't very successful. Like deciding that however I am right now is me too, and so I am all these things and parts, the good and the rough ones, and they all together make the full me. It's these nice little shortcut across the self blaming and infighting that take a long time to work out but help wherever they hold.

But like. I think I owe it my future self to hold on, and to get through the storms. Our past selves have come such a long way, and who knows where we'll go next, what our future selves and lives might be like. So like. I do think that new paths open up all the time, possibilities. Even if the ones now are all bad, who knows where we can still go. And the only way to find out is to try, and to do our best.

*they pull out their diary, and from the front a little calendar page* Look. I... It's one of these pages I'll keep forever and ever because I need the reminder, and give to others when they might need it. I don't know if it's right. I hope so. and I think the only way to find out is to try and hold on.

For me that's enough. That, little hopes, little good moments, even just the memory of warmth and hope and the knowledge that all that was once can come again - in different forms, maybe, but it can. *turning to lay it next to Will's sneaker*

*more silence* But. Well. That's really big thoughts, and hard to see when everything is so dark. Hm. okay just to throw some thoughts out. You don't have to tell me, you don't have to think about it, just... some ideas. Little windows into that maybe, whenever you're able to look.

what do the voices say? can they maybe be talked to, or be both a little right?

is there anything you wish wouldn't stop? or come back? any little thing. ignore realism and context all that. if you were playing make-believe, your own little world, what would it look like? if you want to we can take turns. I play that game regularly cause, well, bad memory, and i probably should start again.

and... does it have to be a *bad* hurt? like. yes. you're different. stuff happened, and it changed you, and that really really hurt. you might not be the same person as before. is that a bad thing? or, you said nasty. sure. right now it's raw and painful and doesnt fit yet. but... could all these little shards grow back together and become something scarred and mended, and different?

I hope they could. I'd really miss you - not you from before, you however you are right now and however you want to be. Idk doesn't make much sense but - people if they change are still that person, right? just... changed, by a situation or because they got to know themselves better or whatever. Like Butterflies. I'd like to see the next chapter, with you if you want or just knowing there was one for you.

Image Credit @thelatestkate and her website

Love love love characters that present themselves as emotionally open social butterflies but the more you see of them the more obvious it is that they’re the most closed off fuckers in the story. Sure, they want to help you with your personal problems and messy emotions, but if you turn that shit back on them, they’ll shut down or deflect every time. Why are you sticking your nose in their business anyway? It’s not like it matters. They’re not a person, they’re just a role being played. They’re the guy who fixes things and saves people. Please ignore the man behind the mask, he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

[kxtsukixoxo]

we should just get drunk and fuck

✮⋆˙ ft. keigo “hawks” takami

“rough day at work?”

he asked as he nursed the alcohol bottle in his hands.

“am i not allowed to drink for no reason?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, breaking your gaze from the TV. he shrugged and focused his attention back onto the tv.

“forgive me for trying to provide emotional support,” he faked a huff and rolled his eyes. you peered at him through the side of your vision. his annoyed look didn’t stay for long, soon enough a smile was back on his face.

“fine. I'm just annoyed today.” you admitted, pulling your legs up onto the couch and resting your chin on top of your knees.

“what, did your boyfriend not text you good morning?” he leaned in and laughed, nudging you with his elbow.

“kei, we broke up a month and a half ago. did I not tell you?” you grabbed the bottle from his extended hand and took another swig. His eyebrows knit together, aureate eyes staring down at you and processing your words.

“no. why didn’t you tell me? i could’ve beat him up or something.” He crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips together. His wings puffed behind him.

“Because I was the one who broke up with him. and it’s not like he cheated or anything.” you shrugged, pushing the bottle towards him. he stared down at the bottle in his hand and slowly trailed his eyes up toward your face.

“so what…happened?” he shifted his body to face you, arm thrown over the back of the couch. he was staring intently at you, golden gaze burning through your skin.

“i don’t know. just lost feelings I guess.”

the two of you sat in silence. keigo's eyes danced across your face, teeth biting down on his lower lip. you could feel your cheeks heating up, and not because of the alcohol this time. he reached over, setting the bottle on the coffee table. his unoccupied hand hesitantly made its way to yours. fingers wrapping around your own.

you were conflicted. scared that if you crossed that line I’d lose him. the man who’s been by your side for years now. yet at the same time, it felt right. the countless nights you’d fallen asleep beside him, the times he’d patched you up after fights. you glanced up at him, his eyes were flicking back and forth from your eyes, to your lips, and back up again. he leaned in, lips brushing against yours. you jerked your body away, hands pushing at his chest. a look of horror rose upon his face, eyes widening.

“i’m sorry…I thought you were into me,” his face flushed, a dusty rose brimming his cheeks.

“i-i,” your brows knitted as you searched for words. “it’s okay. I'm just-” his eyes settled on yours. you stayed silent, your lips parted as if you were about to speak.

“are you?” he cocked an eyebrow at you, egging you on.

“yes!” The word rushed out of your mouth. “but-” his gaze was still fixed on you, unrelenting. “i don’t know,” you sighed. keigo and you sat in a pungent silence. your teeth gritted as your mind blanked.

“for how long?”

There wasn’t even a single doubt about it. from the second you’d  met him you’d had these feelings, the time you’d spent together only made them blossom.

“since we met.” your words were muffled by your sweatpants, head now buried in the fabric.

“why…” he stopped. you peered at him from out of the corner of your eyes. he was chewing on his lip, eyes darting around the room. “why haven’t we…” his words drawled on as if the end of his sentence would never come.

“i like having you in my life and I don’t want to fuck it up.” you sat up, legs dropping off of the couch.

“you’re not going to fuck it up, what is there to fuck up?” his words hit you. you didn’t have an answer, you didn’t even know if there was one. “nothing.”

“kei,” you started, not knowing what there was to say. you felt your heart fluttering as you looked up at him. “kiss me?”

he leaned in, hand coming up to cup your cheek. he paused for a moment, looking you in the eyes before dipping down to press his lips to yours. It was soft and warm, the two of you moved in sync. his warm breath tickled your face with every exhale. you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, edging you toward opening your mouth. you complied. his tongue slithered into your mouth, colliding with your own, moving against the rhythm of his lips. his hand moved to squeeze your hip, thumb pushing at the hem of your shirt. you pulled back to catch your breath. your chest heaved as you struggled to bring in air. a small strand of saliva hung between keigos and your lips, breaking as keigo dipped his head down again, this time his lips began trailing up your neck.

it started out as soft, then slowly shifting to harsh bites and nips at your skin. soon enough he was sucking dark marks into your skin. you squirmed in his hold as he worked away, marking the skin of my neck. your fingers carded through the blonde trusses on his head, tugging gently as he worked. But he pulled away, breaking from your grasp. he worked the fabric of his shirt over his head,working his shirt over the maroon feathers on his back. He tossed the shirt to the side before grabbing onto your knees and pulling your body further down the couch. he was hovering over you, the once bright gold of his iris turned into small hints of medallion tracing along his blown out pupils. he pushed your knees to the side, making room for his hips.

“is this okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your knee. you nodded, biting down on your lip as you watched him lean down. his lips met yours again, the kiss much more hasty and needy than before. his hands began sliding under your shirt, cold fingers pricking your warm skin as the digits pushed higher and higher, stopping around the band of your bra. you pulled your shirt over your head, letting it drop behind you. he pushed the band of your bra over your tits, hands pawing at your nipples. he leaned in, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, teeth gently grazing the skin as he sucked and licked. you let out a sigh as his hand roughly tweaked the skin. his hips ground into yours, even through the fabric of his jeans you could feel his stiffening cock.

you whimpered as he pulled back with a loud pop. you grabbed onto his belt, undoing it and pulling it through the loops of his pants. he fiddled with the button of his jeans, wasting no time discarding them among the growing pile of clothes. his hands gripped onto your sweatpants, tugging them down your hips. you shifted your weight to help him ease the fabric off. soon he was back between your legs, grinding against you. you could feel heat pooling in your core. his lips attacked your neck. bruises sprouting from your skin as his lips drew higher.

“i can feel how wet you are,” he gently bit down on your earlobe. you felt yourself clenching around nothing. he slid his hands between the both of your bodies, cupping your cunt. he groaned as his fingers slid up and down your clothed core.

“stop teasing,” you whimpered, covering your mouth with your hand.

“as you wish.” he chuckled, pulling your underwear down your legs. you hissed at the feeling of the cold air hitting your exposed skin. keigo began trailing his lips down your neck stopping to suck on your nipples once more before lowering even further. he bit into the skin on your hip, earning a soft moan from you. he gripped your legs and threw them over his shoulders, diving in. his tongue flicked your clit. your back arched, hands coming to tug at his hair. he groaned, the vibrations causing you to curse as you bucked your hips into his face.

two fingers circled around your entrance before slowly diving in and slipping back out. his lips closed around your clit, and he began harshly sucking as he penetrated you once more with his fingers. you moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head. he started a steady pace, fingers curling up as he thrusted. your toes curled and the muscles in your abdomen began to squeeze. a stream of moans fell from your lips. with a loud pop he pulled off and returned to flicking your clit. you body jolted, hips moving away from the stimulation. he threw an arm around your stomach, pinning you down.

“fuck! fuck!fuck!fuck!” you moaned, rocking your hips against his face. he thrusted his fingers faster, mouth moving away to bite down on your inner thigh. you cried out, thighs shaking as you neared your peak. and then his tongue was back on you, flicking incessantly at your clit, pushing you over the edge. your back arched off of the couch, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came. your muscles lost tone and fell limp. you collapsed back onto the couch, chest rising and falling as you panted. your vision began to focus, your eyes darting to the blonde between your leg. he was pressing kisses to your thighs and soothing over the bite he left.

“lemme suck you off,” you slurred out through your labored breathing.

“if i don’t get inside you right now I’ll bust,” he pulled his boxers over his hips, cock springing free. pre cum already dripping from the tip.

“let me ride you,” you spoke, more coherent this time. He bit his lip and eyed you down.

“can’t say no to that,” he laid himself down against the arm of the couch and gestured toward himself. He settled his wings behind himself, crimson feathers splayed across the couch like a blanket. you moved to sit in his lap, pressing your lips to him. his fingers ran through my hair as he kissed back, his other hand squeezing my thighs. you pulled back, lifting your hips up and guiding his cock into you. he groaned as you slowly sunk yourself down into him, hands gripping your hips. you bit down on your lip as you gave yourself time to adjust to him. he pressed kisses along your neck, whispering praises into your skin.

you pulled out before slamming yourself back down onto him, starting up a steady rhythm. he cried out, fingers digging into you as you rode him. you called his name over and over until it was a jumbled mess, eyes fixated on his face. his eyes were screwed shut and a deep blush washed over his face. you settled my hands on his chest as leverage to fuck yourself harder onto him, unable to stop the cacophony of moans crawling out of your chest. his thumb brushed against your clit, causing your body to arch.

keigo was quick to pick up the lost rhythm, bending his knees to thrust up into you. you fell forwards against his chest, turning into a moaning mess as he continued his bruising pace on you.

“you like that?” He moaned, fucking up hard into you. you nodded, or tried to. your body had become consumed by pleasure, limbs becoming heavy as you lost yourself. you kissed his neck and cupped my hand over his cheek. your teeth clamped down gently onto his skin before pulling back and soothing over the bite with kisses.

“fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard,” he groaned. you whimpered, gripping onto his arm.

“In me,” you said next to his ear. he moaned and began using his hands to slam your hips down against his own rhythm. your body bounced against him, your insides tightening as you neared your peak.

“fuck, you’re so good,” his lips moved to kiss any bit of skin he could get his hands on. your toes curled and your muscles began to squeeze harder. you cried out his name, clamping down around him as you came, biting down on his shoulder. he groaned, hips stuttering as he spilled inside of you. he thrusted into you, riding out his orgasm before stilling. he let go of your hips and pulled you close, kissing your cheek.

“was that okay?” he asked, stroking your hair.

“you were amazing,” you grinned, nuzzling into the warmth of his neck.

“no I mean, was it okay that we did that?” He gripped your chin, pulling you back to look at him. he looked worried, lips formed into a thin line. but your only thoughts were how you wanted to lie with him forever.

“yeah. i really enjoyed it.” you pressed a kiss to his lips. his lips curled into a smile as he pulled you closer.

“i guess that means i gotta take you out to dinner then.” he chuckled. you could feel the rumble of his chest against yours.

“a little backwards but I’ll take it.”

[casedclosedbye]

The Missing tag

Bucky Barnes x reader

Oneshot

Summary: What started as a simple misunderstanding over a missing dog tag escalates, with both of you blaming each other. You storm out in frustration, hurt by Bucky’s stubbornness and lack of understanding.

The apartment was unusually quiet, save for the sound of the occasional rain pattering against the windows. The kind of quiet that settled into your bones, heavy and thick, the way things did when tension grew thick enough to suffocate the air.

You paced in front of the couch, every step faster than the last, the anger and frustration bubbling up inside you. The argument had started small, a simple misunderstanding—at least that’s how you thought of it. But Bucky’s dismissive attitude had turned it into something else entirely.

“You’re really gonna blame me for this?” you snapped, glaring at him as he stood in the kitchen, his arms crossed. His posture was tense, defensive, and every second that ticked by only seemed to fuel your anger.

Bucky didn’t flinch. “You’re the one who lost it. I told you to give it back, and what do I get? One dog tag gone.” He gestured at the counter with a flick of his wrist, his voice low and sharp. “I’m not sure how you lose something that important, but here we are.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “I didn’t lose it, Bucky! I didn’t even have them when you took them back. You left one of them on the bathroom sink after you took them from me. I didn’t touch it!” You were yelling now, the frustration that had been building finally spilling over.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as if he was trying to make sense of what you were saying, but instead of looking guilty, he looked almost annoyed. "So what? It’s your fault now that it went missing?”

“Yes, it’s your fault!" you shot back. "You took them back from me, then left one of them on the sink when you went to shower! How is that my fault? You think I’m just going to sit here and pretend you didn’t make a mistake?”

Bucky’s face hardened. His expression shifted, that wall of armor he so often wore slipping into place as his temper flared. “I’m not gonna stand here and let you accuse me of things I didn’t do. You were supposed to take care of them.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “I was careful with them, Bucky! I didn’t lose them. You left it there!”

There was a long, drawn-out silence as the words hung between you both, neither one of you willing to back down. But the tension in the room was suffocating, like it was building up to something much worse.

“I don’t need this right now,” you muttered, shaking your head. The hurt in your chest was overwhelming, your voice trembling. “You always do this. You always make it my fault when something goes wrong. I’m so sick of it, Bucky.”

Without waiting for a response, you grabbed your jacket and stormed out, slamming the door behind you. The cold hit you immediately as you walked out into the hallway, but it did nothing to ease the anger or the sadness that twisted your gut.

Bucky stood there in the kitchen, his mind racing, a mix of anger and guilt clouding his thoughts. He had never meant for any of this to happen. Sure, he had taken the dog tags back, but in his mind, they were just… tags. The connection wasn’t something he had verbalized much, but it was important to him, and now… now everything felt wrong.

But it wasn’t just the tags. It was you. It was always you.

Hours later, Bucky found himself alone in the apartment, the weight of the argument still heavy in the air. He had tried to distract himself, tried to get his mind off everything, but it was impossible. The longer he was by himself, the more the guilt ate at him. He hadn’t meant to hurt you, but his pride had gotten in the way. He knew that now.

It was late, far too late, but he found himself walking to the bathroom. He needed to clear his head, maybe wash his face and go to bed. He stood in front of the mirror for a long moment, staring at his reflection as if he could figure out where everything had gone wrong.

That’s when he saw it.

The dog tag.

There, lying innocently on the bathroom sink where he had left it the day before. He hadn’t even remembered to pick it up. His stomach sank as he realized it had been there all along, just waiting for him to notice. He had left it. It wasn’t your fault. It was his.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair as guilt hit him like a punch to the gut.

He cursed under his breath, realizing how much he had messed up. The argument had been petty. The way he’d blown it all out of proportion—it was foolish. But even more than that, he felt the sting of knowing he had let you walk out of the door hurt, all because of his stubbornness and pride.

Bucky didn’t waste another second. He grabbed the dog tag, his heart racing. Without thinking, he rushed out the door, the need to fix things with you consuming him. He couldn’t let it end like this.

You didn’t expect to feel so… alone when you walked into your friend's apartment. The anger was still there, hot and stinging, but beneath it, there was a pang of sadness. You had left because you needed space, needed to think, but you never imagined Bucky would dig his heels in like that. He never really saw things from your perspective, it seemed. And maybe that was what hurt the most.

Your phone buzzed on the counter, the notification lighting up the screen with Bucky’s name. You ignored it. You didn’t feel like dealing with it right now. You needed time to cool off, to let your emotions settle.

But then you heard a knock on the door. You frowned, wondering if your friend was coming back, or if someone else was visiting. It wasn’t until the door opened, and you saw Bucky standing there, his expression frantic, eyes wide, that you realized he’d come to find you.

"Bucky?" you whispered, your heart suddenly in your throat.

“I messed up,” he said, breathless. “I shouldn’t have—" He paused, taking a deep breath as if trying to gather his thoughts. "I shouldn’t have blamed you for losing the tag. It was my fault. I left it there on the sink after I took it back, and I didn’t even realize until now. I… I was too stubborn, and I hurt you. I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t want to admit I was wrong.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your mind racing. He was standing there, his eyes soft and regretful, holding the dog tag in his hand like it was the most important thing in the world.

“You always think you’re right,” you said quietly, the frustration still lingering in your voice, but the edge had softened. “I just wanted you to see it wasn’t my fault. I care about those tags. I care about you, and I hate that you think I’d lose something that matters to you.”

“I know,” Bucky said, stepping closer. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His voice was quieter now, sincere, and the tension between you both seemed to dissipate just a little.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It’s not just the tag, Bucky. It’s about us—how we always seem to fight, and then no one wants to apologize first.”

Bucky reached out, gently taking your hand. His touch was warm, comforting. "I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t want to lose you over something so stupid."

You nodded, squeezing his hand. Maybe things weren’t perfect. Maybe it wasn’t all fixed in one conversation. But for the first time in hours, you felt the anger start to fade. There was hope again, quiet and uncertain, but it was there.

And maybe that was enough for now.

[holyguardian]

The flow of conversation danced around what had happened and the aftermath. Aerith and Somnus seemed to have a silent agreement, such topics weren't for the open air. Instead they filled in their silences with other things, ranging between etiquette when they arrived to how many of the chocobos would stray in their caravan line to snap at overhanging fruit.

With every curious observation, she had a small story to tell. When Alba was reaching the top of a large hill overlooking her home, she pointed to some peculiar white trees without any leaves in the distance. She explained that was their ancient forest, and where her family communed with the Lifestream.

Their conversation became more and more like that. Aerith pointed out landmarks to him whether he asked about them first or not. It only felt right, given this would be their last opportunity for such a conversation. The next time they marched it would be for a war...

... though it was tough to let her mind sink down with such thoughts. Somehow people could still pick her out from the crowd, even though she wore a simple dress in the same style as her maids, and her hair was braided back simply, there was nothing elaborate on her person whatsoever.

She smiled and she waved, ever a friendly face. Though that scream drew out a laugh from her and she nodded 'yes'. It was better that people thought she was riding with her bodyguard for now. It stuck in the back of her mind that not all the faces they would come across would be friendly. Some meant them harm.

That was likely why her father fell back to ride alongside her and Somnus. Shielding that side, while Gilgamesh silently moved to shield the other.

Soon the curious eyes and waving gave way to rows and rows of tents lining the outer perimeter of the castle walls. Their assembling army was so great, the numbers couldn't be contained solely within the barracks. There were rows upon rows of soldiers who stood to attention as the caravan made its slow procession.

The cobblestone streets were lined three rows deep either side with more soldiers who waited for their arrival. The crowds of townsfolk were kept at bay, an order from the Queen, the barricade wasn't usually so widened.

Once they passed under the massive gate, one that divided the castle from the rest of the capital, Aerith cast a look to Somnus. "Follow dad, we will show you the chocobo stables. My family will receive us in the inner-palace, so we have a little time to make sure everyone else is being settled where they need to go." Alba especially. Though she was a brave soul, even her cheeks were puffed out a little curious, eyeing the new surroundings. She must have been able to smell the stables before they even arrived.

No doubt Somnus had a similar feeling stirring. His home? It was open, rolling hills, wide-spread out lands with single storied dwellings. Their castle on the other hand was a massive storied structure, of multiple floors, the spawled out spaces were kept on the outer walls.

"Here we are. Alba can have this stall," Aerith gestured, "It's one that connects to the chocoboyard, she can be cozy in here in the nighttime, but during the day she can stretch her legs in the royal paddock. The gate over there," she pointed, "ride her through that one and you'll come out on the west wall, there's a worn-in dirt path that will lead through the outer fields to Queenswoods. It's one of the best spots for chocobos to scratch around in the dirt and forage, the stablehands often take out our flock for some good old mischief and dirt baths."

Aerith eased down from Alba's saddle with a helping hand. She took her time to explain where everything was kept for Somnus to care for his feathered companion, though perhaps the more exciting part was the varied selection of chocobo feed. Roots, buds, fruits and vegetables, a long-running joke was how 'the chocobos ate better than some of the Kinglands'.

"I think that's about everything. I hope this is okay for you, sweetpea?" she asked as if Alba could speak back to her, offering her fingers to gently scratch the soft fluff of one of her cheeks.

Somnus was a bad liar most of the times. He was simply lucky no one called him out on the looks he gave Aerith after they had been practically dragged from the comfortable spot on the cot by her father.

She was… decisive. She made choices and led by them. She gave ideas and orders.

It was utterly attractive and Somnus was more than happy to just stay back and watch this. Only once did he get a small glare from her father over this. The older man surely knew the way the younger looked at his daughter. But this time Somnus simply had a small smirk and crossed arms left for the king before he readied Alba.

And whatever Aerith had done, it must have broken her father’s grim strictness. At least for now. Because she was allowed to ride on Alba alongside Somnus. The prince was more than happy to accommodate that command. Somehow… this was the best outcome they could have hoped for. He had feared that Aerith would be left with marks on her body and mind from this attack. And yet she seemed to overcome this quite well. Of course… maybe it was a mask, but Somnus intended to keep an eye on that.

And he did. With them both riding on Alba, it was easy to have a current of conversation. Serious topics. Less serious ones. And soon enough, comments from Somnus on tehri surroundings. They had passed the borders to the farmlands. It was obvious. Somehow… the grass was greener. The fields larger. And though autumn was coming, the fruit still seemed so countless on the trees that Somnus was wondering whether they had forgotten to harvest.

He was curious. And a little intimidated. This would be his new home. Only witnessing farmlanders from afar at first – as soon as the capital came into view and the first huts and farms surrounding it passed them by. And thus people noticed and came running to watch the caravan. And catch sight of the princess! As rarely as Aerith had been allowed outside, the same in turn was true for the people: they looked, guessed and little children pointed excitedly to Aerith. Giggling and standing on fences and crates, waving to her. Enough so that Somnus tilted his head a little to hide half his face in his shawl. Maybe they would not notice him. He thought. Until a little girl screamed at the top of her lungs, asking her mother whether that was Princess Aerith's bodyguard - much to her mother's panicked dismay.

[laora-ryn]

Just in case anyone was wondering, I am in fact a federal employee and I am in fact having A Fucking Time Of It

In roughly chronological order, here's all the things that have fucked us over the last two weeks:

Hiring freeze effective immediately, which involved rescinding final offers to people who were about to start their job. A final offer is something you can get a mortgage with btw. It's what you get after months of paperwork. It's something you move cross country for. Eighteen people just at our hospital had a final offer rescinded

A demand for a return to in person work, with no explanation given for why they want this so badly. No explanation on people who have teleworking written into their contracts, or people who have teleworking as a reasonable accommodation

Related to the hiring freeze: no creation of any new jobs in even a preliminary way, even to prep to fill existing vacancies after the 90 days are over

Closing of all DEIA teams groups, webinar series, webpages, department gatherings... Anything you can think of. This included the queer teams based communities that were just a place for people to chat

Related to this: our acting secretary sending out an email that sounds straight out of the fucking Gestapo, where "we are aware of efforts by some in government to deliberately redefine DEIA positions in an attempt to keep their jobs. If you know of this happening, here's an email line we've set up for tips. There won't be adverse consequences for reporting, however, failure to report may have adverse consequences"

What appears to have been trying to be a total freeze on federal spending, which threw literally everything into chaos, I was not able to follow it at all, but the hospital is still running so I'm assuming money is happening somewhere

Two strange emails from OPM.gov, marked EXTERNAL, saying they're testing a new distribution list and to please reply yes. These were considered so universally sus by employees that they had to come down from central office and confirm that yes, these are legit, please reply

A day later, an email from that same external address offering voluntary resignation, which I'm pretty sure is the bit that's been all over the news for (checks notes) being word for word the same email musk sent to Twitter before proceeding to Not Pay Them

A restriction on communication and travel. "No speaking engagements or attendance at public facing events, seminars, or conferences (unless approved by chief of staff) for 6 months. VA only events are excluded." Which was later clarified to mean "well if you're going for continuing Ed, as long as you aren't presenting, it's ok" but then backtracked to "it's probably ok but you still need approval which can take upwards of a month." Why are they restricting speaking at conferences? It's not a money thing because traveling for VA events still costs money. It's like they're looking to prevent staff from interacting with anyone external, for some reason

And today, an email this morning that "leadership has received guidance from the office of personnel management [regarding the EO about "gender ideology extremism and restoring biological truth"] and is working to execute the EO fully, faithfully, and thoughtfully."

This afternoon at 4:30, this began with an all employee email saying that all personal pronouns are being removed from Outlook display names by IT, which was a system implemented several years ago and broadly popular! But nope, we'll need to go back to guessing what genders new coworkers named Quinn, Alex, Morgan, and Taylor are.

(oh I forgot! I can't use the word gender at work anymore. Using Proper Terminology (as interpreted by our ~~~Illustrious President~~~) in all communications at work is now required)

It's been a fucking week and a half and I am so goddamn tired guys. Sorry I haven't been on again but I'm spending most of my energy on Not McFucking Losing It rn

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — golden hours, golden hearts : chapter 017 !

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, head tilted slightly as you debated your next move.

should you put in effort? do your makeup, wear something decent? or should you just throw on a hoodie and go in your pyjamas? 

technically, this was a business arrangement, not a date. just a simple conversation about rules and boundaries. nothing that required anything more than the bare minimum.

and yet ...

with a sigh, you grabbed your concealer and quickly blended it under your eyes. just enough to make yourself look awake. then mascara. a tiny flick of eyeliner. a swipe of tinted lip balm. there. casual but put-together.

for your outfit, you settled on something comfortable but still presentable: bootcut jeans, a long-sleeve, your warm puffer jacket, and a scarf. 

once you were satisfied, you checked the time and grabbed your phone and headed out. the crisp air bit at your cheeks as you walked, but the warmth of your scarf and the quiet hum of the city made it a pleasant trip.

when you stepped inside the café, the smell of roasted coffee beans and cinnamon greeted you. you scanned the room, easily spotting sae at a corner table. 

he sat by the window, casually scrolling through his phone, dressed in a dark sweater.

your steps slowed when you noticed the two cups on the table in front of him.

you approached with a raised brow. “did you meet someone before?”

sae glanced up at you, then at the cups, before shaking his head. "no. it's for you.”

you blinked.  "oh.” 

yeah, oh.

you hadn't expected that.

you slid into the seat across from him, eyeing the cappuccino for a moment before saying, “i could’ve gotten it myself, you know.”

"obviously," he looked you in the eye, "but you recommended it so i assumed it's your favorite drink here."

you sighed, wrapping your hands around the cup anyway. it was warm against your fingers, and you hated how thoughtful it was.

"thank you," you said. 

you leaned back and exhaled, sae eyeing you. 

"so, rules. we need rules."

sae quirked a brow. "rules?"

"yes, rules. it's lowkey a deal, no? i don't want things getting messy."

a flicker of amusement crossed his face, but he nodded. "go on."

"no kissing," you said immediately. "no hand-holding unless absolutely necessary. nothing more than just.. being near each other."

his lips twitched like he was holding back an amused smirk. “okay...”

“you do know couples are supposed to act like they like each other, right?”

"well, some things are fine. just nothing over the top. and if we post about each other, we have to ask first."

sae sipped his drink, eyes never leaving yours. "what else?"

"that's it for now," you said, watching him carefully. "what about you?"

sae leaned back in his seat, fingers lazily tapping against his cup as he regarded you with an unreadable expression. “nothing, really. i'm fine with whatever.”

you blinked, taken aback by how unbothered he seemed. “seriously?”

he shrugged. “yeah. you're the one who seems worried about it.”

“i am not worried,” you scoffed, though the way he was watching you, like he could see right through you, made you shift slightly in your seat.

his lips twitched, this time not bothering to hide his amusement. “right. not worried.”

you huffed, gripping your cup a little tighter. “this is my reputation too, you know. i just don’t want things getting out of control.”

sae tilted his head slightly, his gaze still locked onto yours. “and what would ‘out of control’ look like to you?”

you hesitated. the idea of people actually believing the two of you were in love, of the media twisting stories, of fans picking apart every interaction - it was a lot. but more than that, you weren’t sure you wanted to deal with whatever it meant to be associated with sae itoshi beyond just this agreement.

“just… unnecessary drama,” you settled on, not wanting to over-explain.

he studied you for a moment before nodding. “alright. no unnecessary drama.”

you narrowed your eyes. “you're agreeing too easily again.”

“would you rather i fight you on it?”

“…no.”

“then quit complaining.”

you exhaled sharply, bringing your drink to your lips in an attempt to mask your frustration. this was already exhausting.

sae smirked, clearly entertained by your reaction. “relax. you're making it sound like this is a life-or-death contract.”

“it might as well be,” you muttered.

he chuckled, and the sound was low and brief, but still enough to catch you off guard. you hadn’t expected him to laugh.

you shook your head, pushing past the thought. “fine. since you apparently have no concerns, i'll just assume we’re sticking to my rules.”

“sure,” he said, finishing the last of his coffee. “but i do have one request.”

you tensed slightly, wary. “…what?”

he placed his empty cup down, leaning forward just enough that you could catch the flicker of something  in his gaze.

“if we're going to do this, you have to at least pretend to like me.”

you lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

sae tilted his head, watching your reaction with quiet amusement. “think you can handle that, superstar?”

you stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or just messing with you. but sae didn’t waver, his expression calm, expectant. the flicker in his gaze was something you couldn’t quite place, something challenging, like he was daring you to say no.

pretend to like him?

you huffed, setting your cup down a little harder than necessary. “i think i can manage,” you said, lifting your chin slightly. “can you?”

his smirk deepened, like he had been waiting for you to say that. “obviously.”

your eyes narrowed. “you don’t even like people, sae.”

“i like some people,” he countered.

you scoffed. “name one.”

for a second, he just looked at you, something unreadable flickering across his features. but then he leaned back again, casually stretching his arms along the back of the booth. “wouldn't you like to know?”

you rolled your eyes, deciding not to entertain whatever game he was trying to play. “as long as you don’t make it obvious that this is fake, i don’t care what you do.”

sae tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp but still unreadable. “you think people will doubt it?”

you hesitated, because yeah, you did. you and sae itoshi weren’t exactly the type of people the world would naturally put together. even if your name had been linked before, it started because of him saying that you were his celebrity crush. it wasn't supposed to develop into something more. 

you were stubborn, fiery, and always said exactly what you meant. sae was… well, sae.

“i think people will find it hard to believe that you’d put up with me,” you admitted.

sae hummed, considering your words. then, with the most irritating smirk, he said, “i think people will find it hard to believe you don’t already have a crush on me.”

you choked on air. “pardon?”

he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “you're the one who insisted on rules. you're the one making this complicated. almost like you don’t trust yourself.”

yozr jaw dropped. “you are insufferable.”

his smirk didn’t fade. “and you’re avoiding the question.”

you glared at him. “for the record, i do not have a crush on you.”

sae's gaze softened just a fraction, but his amusement remained. “sure, superstar.”

you exhaled through your nose, trying not to let him get to you. “are we done here?”

sae glanced at his watch before nodding. “yeah. i'll text you details about the wedding.”

“great,” you muttered, standing up and grabbing your coat. “looking forward to it.”

this was going to be hell.

chapter 016 > here > chapter 018

taglist is open ! <3

back to golden hours, golden hearts

a/n: is anyone good at digital art bc im losing my mind at these graduation shirts my classmates did wtf is this

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© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[yenyu1s]

late night snack.. kang no-eul x f!reader

written by @yenyu1s ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)

pairing(s) : kang no-eul x f!reader

contents : fluff/comfort, a droplet of hurt? - minor cursing, mentions of assault

synopsis : kang no-eul would've never expect that her late night run to the convenience store would turn into an unexpected moment of warmth, as two strangers find comfort in each other over instant noodles and canned coffee beneath the store’s fluorescent glow.

wc : 3.05k

(a/n) first sg post in my blog! :3 i took inspiration for the storyline from a c.ai bot of kang no-eul made by @collupz ! i really hope you guys enjoy ♡ i might make this into maybe a 2-part, 3-part series? let me know if you liked this one and give me ideas for the next part if you have some on your mind ^-^

(for more, masterlist)

late night snack cravings was a weekly affair for no-eul.

she'd step out of her makeshift house (that is, her teal minivan..) and would make her way to the nearest, cheapest motel to take a hot, soothing shower. before beelining to the nearest CU.

no-eul drowned out the sound of cars buzzing by. rather, she focused on the crunching and rustling of her combat boots on the pavement. her furrowed eyebrows and chiseled face illuminated by the street light's glow, deep in thought.

the annual squid games was about to start, and no-eul was called in to fulfill her role as a guard. her slender fingers brushed against the fabric as they slipped into the pocket of her jacket, searching for the familiar shape of whatever lay inside before finally revealing a business card. she scanned the odd logo, reminiscing of the first time she was given the business card two years back : a circle, square and a triangle. on the other side of the business card a series of numbers forming a phone number.

she wasn't exactly thrilled at the invitation.. yes, the job earned her enough money to pay for food and daily needs, infact it paid more than her usual part-time job as a pink bunny mascot at the local theme park. she was pretty good at being a guard. she liked the quiet thrill humming beneath her skin, the notch and curves of her sniper felt comfortable and familiar.

but the money wasn't enough to fulfill her utmost desire : bringing her daughter home.

a few days ago, no-eul had barged in to the north korean defector shelter, demanding for information of the whereabouts of her daughter. slapping a decent stack of money on the broker's desk.

"let me be honest with you, how do you expect a one-year-old to survive in north korea without her parents?"

the broker’s words cut deep into no-eul’s still beating heart. she had heard the same thing from every north korean broker she visited—each one worn down, their hope long extinguished. but she refused to let go. she clung to the belief that her daughter was still out there, waiting to be wrapped in her arms once more.

she paused beside a narrow, dark alleyway, her decision finally made: she would join this year’s squid games as a guard once again.

she fumbled with her phone to make the anticipated call, business card in hand.

as she was messily typing out the mysterious number on the keypad, a high-pitched shriek pierced through the quiet nocturne, making no-eul's half-lidded eyes widen, and chapped lips part in shock.

"help! stop it!-"

the helpless scream came from the depths of the alleyway. no-eul didn't know what got into her. she was never the type to be a savior, she would usually turn a blind eye.. heck, she kills people for a living!

however, she felt her legs move, picking up her pace, and she entered the unknown, vast alleyway. passing by shut-down market stalls and abandoned storage rooms. the cold air hitting her face as she sprinted.

she reached the end of the backstreet, slowing down at the sight of the end of the alleyway, a brick wall, with you.. cornered. your body being strangled and pushed up by two large men.

"we told you to pay us back until the end of a week! where's our money huh?!" the huge man strangling you spat at your face.

your dangling legs kicked and kicked as you struggled for air, you tried to slap at the hands that strangled you, but the other thug pinned your dainty hands into the cold brick wall.

your panicked eyes found no-eul's stoic ones, hidden under her baseball cap. the older woman burned with quiet fury. she didn't hesitate.

with a swift motion, she lunged toward the first thug - the one who was strangling you. her foot connecting with his knee, sending him crashing to the ground with a loud grunt. she grabbed his collar and shoved him into the brick wall, her voice low and lethal.

"never lay a finger on her ever again."

you leaped out of his grasp, coughing and gasping for air, hitting the hard pavement. the other thug's attention diverted to the mysterious woman that had showed up in your defense.

"ya! who are you, bitch?" he roared, scrambling forward to land a punch.

in a fluid motion, no-eul took charge and grabbed his arm, twisting it before slamming him to the ground, panting as she held him down.

by now, you had already picked yourself up and dusted off the dirt that sprinkled your stockings. you reach to fix your skirt that had been ridden up as you were being hauled into the wall. your gaze finally fixated at the woman who was kneeing the last thug to remind him of his defeat.

your breath hitched as the moonbeam revealed the woman's face that was hidden beneath her tattered hat. her eyes had something fierce in them, sweet determination. her freckled nose pointed high. you saw as she parted her chapped lips for fresh air, the way she gave the thug a harder shove to the ground with her calloused hands as she scolded him. and, oh, her hands. the muscles under her skin twitch as she held a forceful grip on the thug.

the two men slowly pulled themselves together, not strong enough to pose any threat. they stumbled off to the distance when no-eul loosened her grip on the last man. she ran her hands through her hair before picking up her tall frame from her kneeling position and turning to you.

"you okay?" she exhaled sharply, and brought her full attention to you. her cold eyes scan you up and down, assessing you for any injuries. her demeanor still aloof.

you were.. pretty, to say the least. maybe adorable would be the right word. she was in awe of your doll-like features.. the moonlight gave her the chance to get a better look at you. your hair slightly disheveled from the force those loan sharks brought against you. the way you looked up at her, with admiring eyes.. she felt as if she could have a brain meltdown that second.

"thank you, oh, thank you.." you gushed, snapping out of your trance. you reached for your oversized messenger bag that was left untouched on the ground. "i-i don't know what could've happen to me if you hadn't been there.."

"are you sure you're okay?" the tall woman repeats, more quietly this time. a hint of worry evident in her voice.

"yeah! not even a scratch!.. please, how could i ever thank you?" you assured her as you lift your head to look up at her once again, both of your manicured hands reached for her tense, rough ones. "here, have you eaten dinner yet? i'll buy you dinner at the convenience store down the corner, my treat!"

no-eul scoffed in disbelief as you basically dragged her out of the gloomy alleyway into the sidewalk. you didn't even give her the chance to answer, or think! she squinted and narrowed her eyes at the change of lighting.

"i.. i guess i haven't had dinner yet.." she mumbled, and cursed herself for having no self-control.

i nodded, "me too.. oh, hurry now, noona, it's getting cold outside." you doted, fixing your pink plaid scarf as you picked up your pace, loafers stomping on the concrete.

no-eul mentally facepalmed herself. it wasn't so much that she was being called noona, but rather because she was so easily persuaded by you. she would've just outright refused if it was anyone else, but looking at you.. all sweet, innocent like a lamb, even after getting assaulted. your aura was completely different from hers and it fueled something in her.

the woman sighed softly, she followed behind you into the convenience store, taking in the sight of your short frame and pink scarf, dangling off your shoulder.

the doorbell of the CU rang, welcoming the pair. you dashed straight to the drinks aisle, scanning for cold, crisp water. sighing in relief as you chugged the water bottle.

"you gonna pay for that?" the store clerk joked, leaning against the register.

you shot him an annoyed look before glancing at the woman you had just met a few minutes ago. her eyes scanning the instant food aisle, she picked up her usual cup of cheap seafood ramyun and studied the nutrition facts. her tired eyes indicates for a much needed caffeine boost.

"oh, i really like that flavor!.. tastes like home." you gasped, grinning from ear to ear, standing by her side. reaching over to grab a matching ramyun cup

she could easily feel your body heat and warmth radiating from you as you stood by her. no-eul kept the same stoic look she had in her face when she first looked at you. she wondered how you could be so calm after what had happened. you even offered to buy her a meal!

"thank you.." the woman muttered, her voice light, spinning the canned americano she picked up at the drink aisle on the counter.

"don't mention it, i should thank you! without your help.. i might've been dead by now." you tried to joke. no-eul felt a smile creeping up her face as she leaned against the register, which was rare to see to people who might know her.

you paid for the meal and glared at the greasy store clerk, forcing a smile. you both take turns pouring hot water into your instant ramen cups before plopping yourself on the bar stool by the window. the bright, fluorescent neon sign illuminating the view infront of you.

no-eul sat next to you, her broad shoulders brushing against yours. you shivered at the feeling and you could feel her tense up at the interaction.

"i'm glad you're okay." she said, almost inaudibly.

no-eul could feel your eyes on her. she placed her hand on the rim of the ramyun cup, taking in the warmth.

you played with your nails, nodding. "i'm glad you're okay too, noona.." your voice sweet and low.

you both sat in silence for a minute, waiting for the ramyun to cook and bathe in the hot water.

"how old are you?" she blurted out, unable to hold her tongue.

"s-sorry?"

no-eul grimaced. shutting her eyes.. she probably said that too bluntly. she quickly tried to salvage her question.

"oh, i.. um, wanted to know your age." she said, gently this time. "you.. seem rather young, to be out here alone at this time."

"ah~" you nodded in understanding, "well i just turned 26 a few weeks ago.."

26..? 26..

you were 4 years younger than her, a surge of protectiveness smothered no-eul. "you're young.." she managed to breathe out with a faint smile, unable to get a better response out. her heart thumping in her chest.

"well? how old are you noona?" you asked with a tinge of curiosity before a wave of realization hit you, "oh my, should i even be calling you that? i'm sorry!" you covered your mouth in embarrassment, scolding yourself on being too careless.

no-eul grinned at the question. she didn't mind you calling her noona.

"i'm 30, 30-years-old. um.. i don't mind being called noona." she nodded, looking at your reflection in the window.

she couldn't help but stare at your face. the way you nod your head and puff your cheeks in consensus, the way your face lit up as you realized the ramyun was ready, and how you stuck out your tongue, focusing on trying to split the wooden chopsticks in two.

you were too darn cute for her own good!

no-eul carefully opened her ramyun cup and broke her chopsticks, warm steam fusing with the cold air. she looked over to see you take your first bite before taking a nibble of the seafood ramyun herself.

between bites, the conversation flowed easily, lighthearted with airy laughter here and there. the world outside seemed far away as the pair chatted about everything and nothing— your lifelong dream of being an english teacher, no-eul's pet peeve of people chewing with their mouth open, your embarrassing phone addiction.. no-eul even brought up her past, how she defected from north korea. however, she left the mention of her daughter a story for another day.

she admired how easy you were to talk with, the tension between you two definitely melted away after about an hour of chatting your heads off. unbeknownst to you, heat crept up no-eul's face as the minutes passed by, getting to know you better. she was good at hiding it. however, you on the other hand, would blatantly blush and avert your gaze out of shyness here and there throughout the conversation.

"ugh, how am I going to get home.." she heard you complaining to yourself. your eyes flickered between your phone's lockscreen and the outside world. a gust of wind blew leaves that were scattered on the ground in all sorts of direction, you shiver at the sight.

"do you live around here?" she asked, taking a slow sip of her canned coffee. the ring on her thumb tapped against the metal with a soft clink. in the polished surface of the band, you caught a faint reflection of your own face.

you blushed at the sight of fine jewelry decorating her sleek hands. "yeah.. well i go to school at the university a few blocks down. i was going home for the day but got stopped by those loan sharks."

"..loan sharks?" no-euls eyes widened, shifting in her seat. how could someone like you be involved in something so.. dangerous?

you averted your gaze back to your half empty cup of noodles in shame. "well, yeah.. you know, when scholarships don’t cover enough, and part-time jobs barely pay for daily necessities, you start getting… creative with your options."

no-eul felt a pang of guilt and sorrow taking over. even though you both are polar opposites in terms of aesthetics, you were.. just like her.

"i think we're on the same boat." no-eul chuckled, her comment made you raise your eyebrows.

she continued hesitantly, "mm, my part-time job isn't the best.. the pay is shitty and well, you know.. co-workers." she hummed, no-eul was surprised she was able to open up to someone this easily. gosh, what were you doing to her?

you nodded in understanding, admiring the pretty woman in front of you. your heart softening slightly at the way she was able to ease your mind.

"i get you, noona. sometimes i feel like i'm in my own bubble, i don't really have any real friends or family to be around with that i could pour my guts out to." your soft voice was like a symphony that seeps into the quiet spaces of no-eul's heart, tugging on her heartstrings.

no-eul was glad you both shared a gentle understanding for each other. the sweet smile on her face betrayed her cool, tough outer shell. she felt comforted and seen by you. that was all that matters to her at the moment.

"i'll probably just take the bus home.. i think i still have some credits in my flash card." you thought to yourself, chewing at the last chunk of soggy dried vegetables.

oddly enough, no-eul didn't want the night to end. it was probably due to her being deprived of human interaction, but she was certain she didn't want to leave without catching your name.

you were in the middle of packing your bags when you felt a cold hand reach for your forearm. turning your head, you caught no-eul's saddened eyes.

"when can i see you again?" she whispered softly, her voice rumbling in her throat. her touch lingered for a second longer.

your breath hitched, fixing your eyes on the change in no-eul's expression. is this the same stone cold, fierce woman i met just a few hours ago? you asked yourself. you smiled, your eyes crinkled at the softness that appeared in no-euls demeanor.

without a word, you reached into the pocket of your messenger bag, pulling out a pink glittery pen. you looked for something to write on before taking notice of the business card that peeked out of no-eul's jacket's right pocket.

without asking and knowing the origin of the business card, you snatched the piece of carton and scribbled your name and contact number on it over the cryptic unknown phone number that was inked into the card. doodling a heart next to your name before handing it to the freckled woman.

"if.. if you are in need of someone to talk to.. or a lunch buddy.. i'm one call away." your voice light and full of hope. the hope no-eul needed in this cruel world. it took no-eul everything in her to hold her back from reaching over and pinching your cheeks.. you were too adorable and charming for someone like her!

no-eul's eyes lingered on the business card. once, to her, it had been nothing more than a plain, worn piece of brown cardboard—just another business card sent to her from her higher-ups. but now, with your name and number etched upon it with pink glittery ink, it felt different, it meant something to her.

she watched as you pivoted on your heel, heading towards the convenience store’s front door. you paused before it, your gaze flicking back to her. "i never caught your name, noona."

no-eul pursed her lips into a thin line, before burying her hands into the pockets of her jacket, building up anticipation inside of you. "no-eul, kang no-eul."

you flashed her a toothy grin which made her heart fully explode, "no-eul.." you whispered, testing the name on your tongue, "..pretty."

oh.

no-eul went into full shut down mode at your compliment, her knees buckling, stomach churning.

what are you doing to me? she thought to herself.

you were oblivious to no-eul's breakdown, instead you gave her a small smile and wave before mouthing a cute little 'bye!' as you exit the convenience store into the night.

your name echoed through each and every nook and cranny in her mind, until it became the only thought in her head.

she couldn't wait for the next time her world would collide with yours again.

[amitiel-truth]

River Maiden Pt. 8

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 9,

🔞Groping, Exhibition, Sexual Innuendos🔞

Odysseus and Telemachus stood on the shore, watching as the fleets of ships approached the shores of Ithaca. They could see the worried and angry expressions on the faces of the families of the murdered suitors.

Odysseus clenched his jaw. Telemachus, sensing his father's tension, placed a hand on his arm, trying to calm him.

"Father, we expected this to happen," Telemachus murmured, his voice low enough that only Odysseus could hear.

Odysseus took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I know, son," he replied, his voice tight. "But that doesn't make it any easier to face."

Odysseus and Telemachus waited on the shore as the boats began to dock, the families of the murdered suitors disembarking and making their way towards them. It was a tense and volatile atmosphere, with the families all looking angry and confrontational.

Odysseus and Telemachus knew they needed to tread carefully to avoid a full-blown conflict. With 108 families to deal with, they would have to be diplomatic and tactful in their approach.

Odysseus and Telemachus made their way to the palace, where they found Laertes, Odysseus's father, waiting for them. Laertes was a tall and imposing figure, with a stern expression on his face.

"I knew this day would come," Laertes said gruffly, his voice filled with grim resignation. "I only hope that it will not end in bloodshed."

Odysseus placed a hand on his father's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll do our best, Father." he said, his voice steady and confident.

Telemachus stood beside them, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He knew that his words and actions could either defuse the situation or escalate it to violence.

"Telemachus, go see your Lover and Mother." Laertes orders, dismissing him.

Telemachus hesitated for a moment, but then bowed his head in compliance. He knew better than to argue with his grandfather in serious situations like this.

"Yes, Grandfather," he said, his voice quiet and respectful.

With a final lingering glance at his Father, Telemachus turned and left the room, making his way to the Queen's Quarters, where he knows (Y/N) and Penelope are.

As he entered the room, Telemachus caught sight of (Y/N) and Penelope, who had obviously been discussing the situation. They looked up as he entered, and their expressions of worry softened at the sight of him.

"Telemachus," Penelope said softly, rising from her seat to greet him. "Are you alright?"

Telemachus managed a small, reassuring smile in response. "I'm fine, Mother," he replied, trying to sound calm and unruffled. "But Father and Grandfather are currently in a serious discussion with the families of the dead suitors."

(Y/N) and Penelope exchanged a tense glance, before (Y/N) stepped forward, taking Telemachus's hand. "How are they reacting?" she asked, her voice betraying her own fear and worry.

Telemachus sighed, looking down at his feet for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "They're angry, understandably," he said. "But Father and Grandfather are doing their best to pacify them. They're trying to avoid any bloodshed, but I don't know how successful they'll be."

(Y/N) sighs, shaking her head "blood feuds are long and bitter, they feel humiliated and disrespected for killing their sons, even if they were the ones in the wrong" she mutters, mindlessly playing with his hand

Telemachus nodded in agreement, his brow furrowing in concern. "Yes, I know," he said, his voice quiet. "But what choice did we have? The suitors were a danger to our family and our way of life."

He pulled her into a tight embrace, taking comfort in her presence and her touch. "But we'll have to be careful, love," he murmured, his voice low. "These families are desperate and angry. We'll have to tread lightly."

"I understand, I still have this." (Y/N) showed him the dagger Ioannis, one of her guards in his absence, lent her.

Telemachus's grip on her tightened as he saw the dagger, his expression turning hard and determined.

"Good," he said gruffly, his voice filled with protective affection. "You need to stay safe. These families are unpredictable and dangerous. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"We understand, My Love." (Y/N) nodded, pecking his lips.

"I'll stay here with your Mother, and could you please send in Ioannis and Panagiotis ones more, I don't feel safe on our own." (Y/N) requested the guards Telemachus assigned for her, a small smile on her lips.

Telemachus nodded, his expression softening as he looked at her.

"Of course, love," he said softly, reaching out to cup her cheek with his hand. "I'll go get them right away."

He kissed her forehead gently before leaving the room, going to fetch the guards.

Ioannis and Panagiotis are quickly stationed outside the Queen's Quarters, their expressions serious and alert.

"Guard them with your lives," Telemachus instructed them firmly. "I don't trust these families not to try something."

"Yes, Your Highness!" The guards nodded their understanding, their hands on their weapons. They took up positions outside the doors to Queen's Quarters their eyes watchful and their bodies tensed.

Telemachus made his way back to where the meeting was taking place, mentally preparing himself for the confrontation that was sure to follow.

"Excuse me, sir," Someone calls out as he passed, her voice sweet and soft, with a touch of sadness.

Telemachus turned to look at her, taking in her regal appearance and the grief etched on her face.

Despite her grief, she moves with effortless grace, her flowing chiton catching the light as she walks. Her dark hair is intricately styled, woven with subtle adornments, and her gaze is both commanding and serene.

Telemachus turned to look at her, taking in her regal appearance and the grief etched on her face.

She approached him, her eyes downcast, her body language radiating sadness and vulnerability.

"I'm sorry to trouble you," she said, her voice just above a whisper. "But I recognized you and couldn't help but speak."

She lifted her head, and Telemachus was struck by the depth of sorrow in her gaze. "I am the sister..of one of the suitors you killed."

Telemachus felt a pang of guilt and sorrow at her words, but he held his composure, his expression stoic.

"I am sorry for your loss," he said, his voice sincere but guarded. "But the suitors brought their fate upon themselves. They invaded my home and caused harm and chaos."

She nodded, her shoulders slumped in acceptance. "I know, and I don't blame you for what you did," she said softly. "But I can't help but feel the weight of my brother's death on my shoulders."

She took a step closer to him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm, her fingers ghosting over the fabric of his tunic.

"I was wondering if I could trouble you with a request," she asked, her voice low and melodious, a contrast to her weary demeanor.

Telemachus shifted slightly at her touch, his guard instinctively going up. He could tell that she had something to ask of him, something he might not like.

"What is your request?" he inquired, his voice neutral.

The strange girl looked up at him through long eyelashes, her gaze earnest. "I realize this is a strange request, but I was hoping that you could find some way to compensate me for my brother's death."

She took a step closer, her hand still on his arm, her touch light yet insistent. "Perhaps a favor, a gift, something to ease the pain and the emptiness I feel in his absence."

Telemachus's brows furrowed at her request, his suspicion growing. It wasn't uncommon for families of defeated enemies to seek reparations, but something about her demeanor felt off to him.

"I sympathize with your loss," he said slowly, his voice cautious. "But what, exactly, do you have in mind?"

She took took a deep breath, her hand sliding down his arm to take his hand in hers. "I was hoping you would marry me," she said softly, looking up at him pleadingly. "It would be a way to right the wrong of my brother's death and bring honor and respect to his memory."

Telemachus's eyes widened in shock and disbelief at her request. The very thought of marrying her to appease her family's sense of honor was not only ridiculous but also insulting in some way he can't explain.

"I..." he began, his voice hoarse. "That's...I can't...I'm already betrothed."

Her expression faltered, but she quickly composed herself. "But surely, you could break off your betrothal for me," she persisted, her grip on his hand tightening. "I could make you a good wife, a loyal queen. My family is wealthy and has great influence in several kingdoms. It would be a wise political move for you."

Telemachus shook his head, his irritation growing at her insistence. "No, I cannot and will not break my betrothal," he said firmly, pulling his hand away from hers. "And I'm not interested in a political marriage. I love someone else."

Her eyes narrowed, her desperation becoming more apparent. "You would rather forsake a powerful alliance for a love match?" she asked, her tone almost mocking. "That's foolish and naive."

Telemachus's eyes hardened at her words. "It may be foolish to you, but I won't sacrifice love for power," he retorted, his voice edged with anger. "And I won't be coerced into a marriage I don't want, even if it brings 'honor' to your brother."

Her face flushed with anger and humiliation. "You are an ungrateful fool," she spat, her words filled with venom. "My brother died in your palace, his blood stains your hands and you refuse even to consider my offer? You don't care about honor, or duty, or family. You're just a selfish, lovestru-"

"There you are, My beloved~" Suddenly, familiar arms snaked up from his waist to his chest, hugging him from behind, and a kiss was placed on his neck.

"I was looking for you, how mean of you to drop off the guards and not give me a proper goodbye kiss?" (Y/N) asked over his shoulder, pouting at him.

Telemachus's irritation and frustration melted away at the familiar touch and the sound of (Y/N)'s voice. He relaxed into her embrace, his hand coming up to rest on top of hers.

"Sorry love," he said, his tone softening considerably, as he turned to look at her over his shoulder. "Got into a...discussion with someone."

(Y/N) turns her gaze to the person in front of Telemachus, tilting her head "Who's this?."

The Princess bristled at (Y/N) words, her earlier pleading and sweetness replaced by a cold, hard expression. She shot a glare at Telemachus, before looking up at (Y/N) with a forced smirk.

"I am Princess Cassandra," she said, her voice strained. "And you must be Telemachus's... betrothed."

"Yes, that is I. My, A Princess, you don't look like one." (Y/N) quickly bites back, not bothering to introduce herself, playing with Telemachus's tunic.

Cassandra's eyes narrowed at (Y/N) words, her annoyance growing. She bristled at the insult, her composure faltering for a brief moment.

"And I suppose you're the epitome of a Princess," she retorted, her voice sharp and cutting. "With your disheveled hair and your hand all over his clothes in public."

"Oh, excuse my disheveled appearance, I swear I fix myself up every morning, but the Prince can't help keep his hands off me~." (Y/N) answers with a smirk.

Telemachus's face flushed a bit at Egeria's words, and he tried to suppress a smirk of his own, though he failed miserably.

Cassandra scowled at Egeria's words, her jealousy growing with every passing moment. "I doubt it," she retorted. "I can't imagine someone as...unsightly as you being such an object of desire."

🔞🔞🔞

"Believe it or not, I am~." (Y/N) answered, keeping eye contact as she licked Telemachus's neck.

Telemachus tried to hide a shiver at (Y/N) gesture, but failed miserably, his face turning an even darker shade of red.

Cassandra watched the exchange with growing fury, feeling the sharp sting of jealousy coursing through her veins. She clenched her fist, her knuckles turning white.

"How...vulgar," she gritted out through clenched teeth.

"As vulgar as trying to steal my bethrode using a dead relative?" (Y/N) asked, running her hands all over Telemachus's chest and abdomen, touching every sensitive part she knows excites him, her eyes narrow with a deadly smirk.

Telemachus's breathing hitched as (Y/N) touched him in those spots she knows drive him crazy, and he had to fight back the urge to react to her, to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless right this second.

Cassandra's eyes widened in shock. She hadn't realized that (Y/N) had been listening the whole time, and the princess was now feeling both embarrassed and humiliated.

"That...that's not..." Cassandra struggled to find the words, her cheeks turning red in a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Telemachus, however, was more amused than annoyed, enjoying the show that (Y/N) was putting on, knowing that it's all for his sake. He couldn't help but find her little display cute, and a small part of him wanted to see how far she would go.

"Not what? 'Oh! I'm a distressed Princess who passed my bethrodal age, since you killed my brother, why don't you marry me in retribution? Oh, what's that? You're already bethrode? Well, I'm a helpless Princess, what else do I have to say? Break it off for me, please?' Is that what your trying to say?" (Y/N) taunted, before sliding her hand down between Telemachus' legs, palming his bulge.

"You don't even look like you know how to touch a man, serves you right, since you can't have a man all by yourself." (Y/N) taunted, her eyes slitted with a wide grin.

Telemachus inhaled sharply at (Y/N)'s unexpected action, his body reacting instantly to her touch. He bit his lip, trying to keep a straight face and not react outwardly, but the sensation was hard to ignore.

Cassandra's face went red with embarrassment and anger, her shame and humiliation mounting with every word that came out of (Y/N) mouth.

"You...you know nothing of what I can do," she snapped back, trying to salvage her dignity. "I could make Telemachus happy, and content. I would be a loving and devoted wife."

"Then your eyes may not be working, look at him." (Y/N) points, smirking at him as she continues her wandering hands.

"He's completely happy with me." (Y/N) points out, before biting his shoulder.

Telemachus's breath hitched again at (Y/N)'s bite, and he couldn't help the soft moan that escaped his lips, his body trembling slightly under her touch.

Cassandra's eyes widened in surprise and annoyance at the sound, and anger flared up in her eyes.

"He's...he's just...he's clearly just in a vulnerable state," she sputtered out, trying to find a way to explain away Telemachus's reaction. "Any...any man would react that way to a woman touching him like that."

"Oh, is that so? Then watch." (Y/N) suddenly stops her hands, hovering in front of him.

Telemachus whimpered audibly as (Y/N) took away her touch, his body craving the sensation of her hands on him again. He had a feeling that (Y/N) was up to something, but he couldn't help his body's natural reaction to her.

"(Y/N)...please," he said, his voice strained with desire. "Don't stop. I need...I need you to touch me."

(Y/N) smirked at the princess, before continuing her intimate touches to the Prince, particularly to in between his legs.

Telemachus let out a relieved sigh as (Y/N)'s hands returned to him, her touch sending ripples of pleasure through his entire body. He leaned into her touch, his eyelids fluttering as she caressed his sensitive areas.

Cassandra's face was now a deep shade of red, her ears burning with the combined humiliation and anger. She bristled at (Y/N)'s actions, her fists clenched at her sides.

"I...how...how dare you," she spluttered, her voice shaking with fury. "You...you...harlot!"

"Think all you want, but this one's mine." (Y/N) declares with a smirk, as she fastens her stroking through his clothes.

"You should be even thanking me, for allowing you to see such a sight that I have the pleasure of seeing everyday." (Y/N) taunted, as Telemachus reached his high, staining his loincloth, falling onto (Y/N) arms, his head on her shoulder with his head tilted towards her as she kisses him passionately.

Cassandra stood there, watching in shocked disbelief as Telemachus came undone in (Y/N)'s arms, a mix of emotions rushing through her mind. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, anger, and a touch of envy, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the intimate scene before her.

Finally, she shook her head, snapping out of her daze, and spun around, her gown whipping around her. She dashed off, her cheeks burning with humiliation.

As the Princess ran away, (Y/N) drops to her knees with Telemachus, assisting him with his weak knees.

"Are you alright, My Love? Was I too rough?" (Y/N) asked in worry, running a hand on his hair.

Telemachus sagged against (Y/N), his body trembling slightly as he tried to regain his composure. He buried his face against her neck, taking several deep breaths to steady himself, the scent of her calming him down instantly.

"No, no, love," he reassured her, his voice hoarse. "You were...perfect. I just...I got a little overwhelmed there, that's all."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touch you like that without your permission." (Y/N) pulls him into her arms, her cheek on his shoulder.

Telemachus shook his head, pulling her to his lap. "You didn't do anything I didn't like," he reassured her, his arms encircling her waist. "In fact, I loved every second of it. I just...it was just a bit intense, that's all. And in front of someone like Cassandra, too..."

"It's just...she was trying to take you from me, so I got..." (Y/N) looks away from him, blushing, she didn't want to admit she was jealous.

Telemachus chuckled, his arms wrapping tightened around her. "I know, my love," he said, his voice gentle and soothing. "And believe me, I would never let anyone take me away from you. I'm yours, and only yours. And I always will be."

(Y/N) sighs, leaning into his arms. "I love you, Telemachus, we may always have sex most of the time, heck, we had sex the second day we met, but regardless, I love you, not just for our intimate pleasures, but for everything, and I'll be damned to let anyone take you away from me." (Y/N) professes while stroking his cheek.

Telemachus's heart swelled at her words, her declaration of love and devotion filling him with a warm, fuzzy sensation. He smiled, turning his head to place a kiss on her palm.

"I love you too, (Y/N)," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "Even with our...frequent intimate encounters, I also love you for who you are. You're my partner, my confidante, my best friend, and most importantly, my soulmate. And I would never, ever let anyone take me away from you, either."

"It's such a shame that I...soiled myself." Telemachus blushes, closing his legs as best he could with her on his lap.

(Y/N) smiled, before licking his cheek. "I can clean it up if you want~." She offers with a mischievous grin, making Telemachus blush.

"You can't be saying and doing such things! Especially in the Hall!" Telemachus scolded her as she laughs, her forehead on his shoulder.

She laughed as Telemachus couldn't help but notice that (Y/N)'s hair was a mess, despite the fact that they hadn't engaged in their "routine" yet. He tilted his head, a curious expression on his face.

"Love, your hair looks...disheveled," he noted, running his fingers through her locks. "It's not the usual after-bed head."

"I was running around trying to look for you, I was serious about the goodbye kiss." (Y/N) admits, blushing a bit.

Telemachus chuckled, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"You look adorable when you're blushing, love," he teased, his fingers continuing to comb through her hair.

"But it's good to know that my kisses are that important to you. I'll make sure to give you plenty of them, even when I'm busy."

"You better." (Y/N) pouted up at him, as he fixed up her hair for her.

Telemachus chuckled again, his eyes sparkling with affection as he finished fixing up her hair.

"Don't pout, love," he said, pinching her cheek playfully. "You know I can't resist you when you look at me like that."

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her once more, his touch gentle but possessive.

Suddenly, they heard more screaming where Odysseus and Laertes are.

Telemachus groaned, reluctantly breaking away from (Y/N)'s embrace.

"I wonder what's going on now..." he muttered, standing up and offering his hand to (Y/N).

"I suppose we better go see what's happening. Stay close, and don't wander off again, love."

Telemachus and (Y/N) quickly make their way towards the source of the commotion, hand in hand. As they approach, they see that the commotion is centered around Odysseus and Laertes.

Odysseus is locked in a heated argument with a group of men, while Laertes stands nearby, looking torn between anger and exhaustion.

"You killed our brothers, our nephews, our heirs!" one man shouted. "We demand reparations, a sum of gold for each life taken!"

"That's ludicrous!" Laertes retorted. "Your kin were thieves and traitors, attempting to usurp our throne! Odysseus and Telemachus had every right to defend himself and his family's honor!"

The men just scoffed, their lips curling into sneers.

"Honor? You speak of honor after slaughtering our kin?!" one of them spat, his face reddening with fury. "You think money will make up for their loss? We want revenge, justice for our fallen family!"

Odysseus shook his head, his jaw clenched in irritation.

"I'm not giving you a single drachma," he said, his tone firm and unyielding. "Your kin were given a choice, and they chose violence. They knew the consequences of their actions, and they paid the price."

The men bristled at Odysseus's words, their anger growing with each passing moment. Their demands grew more outrageous, demanding not only gold but also land, titles, and even the freedom to wed any woman of their choosing.

Telemachus scowled, shaking his head at the audacity of the men's demands. He stepped forward.

"This is absurd," he said, his voice sharp and cold. "You have no right to make such demands, nor do you deserve any reparation for the lives of your kin. They were enemies, and they were dealt with accordingly. Your outrage is misplaced."

The men took a step closer, their anger now directed towards Telemachus.

"You dare to speak to us like that, you upstart brat?" one of them snarled. "You think you're so high and mighty now that you have your father's throne? Well, let me tell you-"

But Telemachus cut him off, his gaze steely. "I am the next king of Ithaca," he said firmly. "And I will not be intimidated by your empty threats. You have no claim to anything, least of all my compassion or forgiveness."

Odysseus's thoughts turned dark as he listened to the men's demands. He knew all too well that blood feuds were bitter and long-lasting, and that granting the men's demands would only escalate the violence further.

"Enough!" he finally snapped, his voice booming. "You have no right to come into MY home and make demands of ME! You want vengeance for the deaths of your kin? Fine! But I will not give you gold, land, nor shall you marry any of my people. Your kin made their choices, and they paid the price."

(Y/N) frowns, glaring at the Suitors families, her hand twitching, itching, planning, as a storm seemed to brew outside the palace.

Odysseus's voice continued to rise, his anger and frustration palpable. "You speak of honor and justice, but you know nothing of either. Your kin were villains and cowards, unworthy of my mercy or compassion."

The storm outside seemed to reflect Odysseus's mood, the sky darkening and the wind picking up. A few of the men blanched at the sight, clearly unnerved by the weather.

Suddenly, the air around them stilled, the Families stood in place as if stopped in time, with only Odysseus, Telemachus, and Egeria being able to move.

And with a silent gust of wind, Athena appeared, she turned her attention to Odysseus, her gaze softening slightly.

"Odysseus," she began "You have endured much, and I know your patience wears thin. But violence and bloodshed will not bring you or your people lasting peace."

"And for that, I'll give you my help, once more." Athena raises her hand to the Families, a glow flowed from her hand to their heads

"I wiped their memories of their lost families, once this is over, they go back to their ships in a trance like nothing happened." Athena explains, turning to Odysseus.

Odysseus looked at her in shock, before bowing to the Goddess.

"Thank you, Athena," he said, his voice steady once more. "You have my gratitude once again for your aid."

Telemachus follows suit, bowing to Athena, and pulling a reluctant (Y/N) to bow as well.

"Thank you, Athena." Telemachus says, gratefully.

"Yes, Thank you..." (Y/N) mutters reluctantly with a frown, looking onto the ground, Athena notices it, but doesn't speak out about it, given their difficult relationship.

With a snap, the Families grew silent, and with a trance, they began walking back to their ships, one by one, they began sailing off, like they were never here.

Odysseus watched the ships vanish into the horizon and murmured, "With their memories cleansed and their hearts unburdened, the gods have granted me peace at last."

Telemachus approached his father with a smile and said, "Father, after all these years of struggle, it's time we fill this hall with laughter and song again—tonight, we celebrate your return."

Festivities and celebrations erupted throughout The Kingdom as news of Odysseus's return spread. The people of Ithaca were overjoyed to have their king returned to them after his long absence, and they threw a lavish feast in his honor. Nobles, servants, and commoners alike gathered in the palace courtyard, feasting and drinking, dancing and singing.

Odysseus was the center of attention, surrounded by well-wishers and admirers. Telemachus and (Y/N) at a roundtable near him, watching as Odysseus basked in the adulation of his people with Penelope in one arm.

Odysseus recounts the time when he was on the run from Poseidon, the god of the sea, who had cursed him for blinding his son, the monstrous Cyclops. Odysseus describes his harrowing journeys through treacherous seas, battling monstrous creatures and facing deadly storms.

The people listen intently, enthralled by Odysseus's tale of survival and resilience. Telemachus, too, is captivated by his father's story he never truly knew until now.

"And as I neared Ithaca, Poseidon himself emerged from the depths, vowing to drown the entire island unless I threw myself into the sea. Thinking of you and your mother, I didn’t hesitate—I leapt, believing it would be my end. In that instant, I nearly glimpsed your grandmother, my fallen comrades, and the afterlife itself. But then, the windbag intervened, saving me from the abyss. To honor my lost comrades, I delivered 600 strikes with Poseidon's own tridents, a fitting tribute to their sacrifice." Odysseus recounts, lifting his hands as if lifting the trident once more.

Telemachus listened in awe to his father's tale, his eyes wide with amazement. He had heard stories of his father's adventures, but it was another thing to hear it directly from his father's lips.

(Y/N) on the other hand, nearly toppled her goblet, shaking. Telemachus noticed it.

Telemachus reached out a hand to steady her goblet, his gaze concerned.

"Love, are you alright?" he asked quietly, noticing her shaking hand.

"I-I'm fine, I guess I just have too much to drink." (Y/N) smiles sheepishly, before standing up.

"I'm feeling a bit woozy, It's best I retire to your room for the night." (Y/N) says, still stiff.

Telemachus frowned, unconvinced by (Y/N)'s excuses.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" he asked, looking at her closely. "You're not your usual self, love. Is there something bothering you?"

(Y/N) takes a deep breath, before hugging him over the shoulder

"Nothing, My Love, don't mind me. enjoy the festivities, you didn't get a chance to bond with your Father, I'll just be in your room." (Y/N) pecked his cheek, before turning to enter the palace, to the Prince's room.

Telemachus watched (Y/N) walk away, unease settling over him. He knew something was bothering her, but he didn't want to push her. He turned his attention back to his father's tales, but his mind kept drifting to (Y/N) and the strange mood she was in.

As (Y/N) enters Telemachus's room, she takes a deep breath, hugging herself, before removing her hair pieces onto Telemachus's desk, and walking to the balcony, a tight frown on her lips.

"Show yourself, I know you're watching me, Athena." (Y/N) calls out, leaning out the balcony.

With the sound of the wind, Athena revealed herself. She appeared next to (Y/N), her expression unreadable.

"Why are you here?." (Y/N) asked, barely looking at her.

"Why else? To check on you," Athena replied, her tone neutral. "You seem distressed, more so than usual when I'm around."

"Gee, I wonder why..." (Y/N) looks at her at the side of her eye.

"Cousin."

"Still bitter at me?" Athena remarked. "It's been years, (Y/N). You can't hold a grudge forever."

"How can I not? When you punished my Mother for being defiled by Poseidon in your temple, which she didn't asked for it...she begged for your help...she was your Priestess...but you cursed her." (Y/N) mutters with a tight frown.

Athena's expression hardened at (Y/N) words, her tone turning cold.

"Your mother was a priestess, a devoted servant to me. Yet, she let herself be defiled in my holy temple. She brought shame upon herself and her station, and I could not just let that go unpunished."

"Then why are you here? To tell me what you did was right?" (Y/N) asked, her temper being tested.

Athena's eyes narrowed at (Y/N) tone, but she remained composed.

"No, I am not here to defend my actions, young one. What's done is done." Athena leans over the balcony.

"Your Father knows you're here."

Egeria's eyes widened, stiffening before looking at the ground where the celebration is taking place, seeing happy faces, seeing Telemachus being able to get to know his father, after so long of waiting, she bit her lip.

"What does he want?"

"He wants to see you, to have a word with you." Athena replies, her expression giving nothing away.

"I highly doubt that." (Y/N) quickly answers with a bite.

"For the past 20 years, he didn't bother to see me, when I was Hera's Student, he didn't even spare me much of a glance, he wants something else." (Y/N) points out, looking at Athena seriously.

Athena nodded, a solemn expression on her face. "You're right, Poseidon is a complicated god."

"But you are just as stubborn as your father," the goddess continued. "And you seem to have developed quite the attachment to Odysseus's son."

"Does Telemachus know of your heritage? That you are Poseidon's daughter?" Athena inquired, her eyes watching.

"That's something he doesn't need to know." (Y/N) answers, glaring at Athena

"And why not?" Athena countered, her tone challenging. "He deserves to know the truth about who you are and where you come from."

"Where I come from? From a God who made sure his Father couldn't come home for 10 years after the war? Or from your Priestess who you, His Mentor, turned into a Gorgon." (Y/N) asked, turning her head towards Athena.

"A child of a God and a Cursed human, face it, Cousin, He'll see me as a monster, and he'll...." (Y/N) trials off, looking at Telemachus's smiling face celebrating with Odysseus like he's the only one keeping her sane.

"He'll leave me, force me out of Ithaca..."

Athena's expression softened, her eyes filled with some sort of pity.

"You're letting your insecurities and fears consume you," Athena said gently. "Telemachus loves you, that much is clear. Do you really think he would leave you simply because you are Poseidon's daughter?"

"Not just Poseidon, My Mother, Medusa." (Y/N) points out, looking out at the sea, where Gibraltar is.

"I don't know what I'll do without him...I'll simply die..."

Athena sighed, looking at (Y/N) with sympathy.

"You need to have more faith in yourself, Cousin," Athena said. "You are stronger than you think. And Telemachus is a good man, he will accept you for who you are, despite your heritage."

"Just out with it with your news." (Y/N) walks into Telemachus's bed, laying down on it, not wanting to hear any encouragement from her perceived tormentor.

Athena rolled her eyes at (Y/N)'s childish behavior, but didn't call her out on it. "Very well," she said, clearing her throat.

"Poseidon has learned of Telemachus and your...dalliances. And he's not exactly pleased with this turn of events."

"Be cautious. Poseidon has not forgotten his hatred for Odysseus. And he will use any means to get back at him, even if it means harming those around him."

Athena continued on. "And you, (Y/N), you carry the blood of Poseidon in your veins. Poseidon may seek to use you as a pawn in his twisted games. You must watch your steps carefully."

"...Just leave..." (Y/N) mutters, her back towards her, hugging herself tightly.

Athena sighed, realizing her words had little effect.

"Very well. But remember, (Y/N), the fates are unpredictable." With that, the goddess of wisdom disappeared, leaving (Y/N) alone with her thoughts.

(Y/N) lays and the bed, before curling in on herself, crying, sobbing heavily, as the festivities goes on just outside the palace.

(A/N: I'm bored, ask me anything you want to know about River Maiden! (Y/N))

[wlwsoccerfics]

Locker Room Kisses(StephCatleyXReader)

Warning: none.it's just quite short but cute.

Summary: you and Steph are in the locker room before anyone else...

You were the first one in the locker room, listening to some music on your headphones. Putting on your gym shoes, not noticing Steph walking in at first, only when she sat down in her usual spot next to you.

"Hey y/n!" She said with a soft smile.

You happily return that smile.

"oh hi, Steph!" You replied a little too loud which made her giggle. That made you realize you were still wearing your headphones so you took them off.

"sorry for yelling!" You told her. She put on her Gym shoes.

"don't worry about it! It's all good!" She answered gently. Smiling even more now.

"looks like the other Girls are taking their time today!" You stated. She nodded her head in agreement.

"yeah looks like it! I am surprised Leah isn't here yet!" She answered.

What you didn't know was that half of the Team was on the other side of the door. They were listening to your conversation, hoping one of you would finally make a move. Cause everyone knew that you liked one another. Apart from the two of you.

"what were you listening on your headphones by the way?" She suddenly asked. You grabbed your phone and started playing the song.

"emergency contact by Pierce The Veil." You told her. She looked really excited.

"this Is one of my top 3 Songs!" She answered. Now it was your Turn to her excited.

"omg are you serious?!" You grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. You started doing silly dance moves while still holding her hand. She laughed softly. Knowing you only did it to be funny cause everyone on the Team knew you were an amazing dancer.

"i am very serious! It's an amazing Song! Your dancing on the other hand is far from serious!" She said and was Dancing with you now.

You faked being offended.

"excuse me?! What do you mean?! Those are my best dance moves!" You told her. The entire team was standing outside of the changing room now, watching you and listening to you secretly.

"they are taking so long. Why won't they kiss?" Beth whispered out.

"i don't know. they really are taking forever with this!" Kyra replied, she was so annoyed right now.

"pest is right!" Kim answered. Letting out a soft sigh.

Suddenly the Song ended and it changes to a slow song. So you decided to get it together and pull her closer.

"May i have this dance?" You asked Steph. Steph was getting nervous but nodded her head yes. So you started Dancing with her.

"this Is nice." She breathed out. Smiling at you nervously.

"it is...can i kiss you?" You blurted out the question. She didn't even answer but placed her lips on yours. The kiss was gentle and slow but filled with so much warmth.

"FINALLY!" someone yelled from outside. You knew it was Kyra. So did Steph.

"come in, pest!" Steph answered after pulling away from you. But still holding your hand.

To your surprise she wasn't the only one walking in. No it was the entire team.

"surprise!" Leah said awkwardly as they all stood there.

"you saw everything?" You asked them. They all nodded their heads.

"we were wondering how long it would take you two to admit that you liked one another!" Katie explained.

"well technically they just kissed and didn't say it..." Beth answered.

"right, so Steph. I Like you alot. My feelings for you are strong. So would you like to go on a date with me?" You asked her. Steph kissed your cheek.

"yes i would love to go on a date with you!" She replied and smiled gently.

The entire Team cheered and there even was some Applause.

You went on 4 dates with her before she had asked you to be her girlfriend. Which you happily agreed to.

[chrissssssmut]

CLASSROOM 3-B

Vampire Ahn Yujin x Male Reader

It started with Lee Jiwon.

One day, she was there, laughing with her friends, tying her hair into a neat ponytail. The next day, she was gone. No message. No explanation. Just an empty seat by the window that no one dared to look at for too long.

The teachers told us not to worry. “She must have transferred schools,” they said. “Maybe a family emergency.” But no one had seen her leave. No one had heard from her since.

Then Kim Haneul disappeared.

By the third missing student, panic set in. Police officers swarmed our classroom, questioning us one by one. Had we noticed anything strange? Had they mentioned anything before they left?

I had no answers. None of us did.

And then it kept happening.

Every week, a girl from our class vanished.

The empty desks grew, the halls of our school became quieter. The teachers stopped calling roll. Nobody wanted to acknowledge the truth—our class was shrinking, and no one knew why.

At first, I convinced myself it was just a coincidence. Maybe they all had reasons to leave, reasons we just didn’t understand. But then I started noticing things. Small, unsettling things.

The missing girls all had one thing in common: before they vanished, they had all spent time with Ahn Yujin.

I didn’t want to believe it. Yujin was… different, yes. She had a presence that was both alluring and unnerving, like a beautiful statue that felt just a little too real. She was quiet but never shy, confident but never loud. She had this way of looking at you, as if she knew something you didn’t.

I had always liked her. Maybe that was why I ignored the signs at first.

But then I started piecing things together.

There was the way the missing girls were always last seen with her. The way she never seemed concerned, even when the rest of us were terrified. And then there was the strangest part—Yujin never ate at school.

Ever.

Lunch breaks, class parties, snack time—she always smiled and said she wasn’t hungry.

That alone wasn’t damning, but then I overheard a conversation between two teachers.

“She’s never sick, have you noticed?”

“She has perfect attendance, too.”

“And she doesn’t go on school trips. Not once in three years.”

I had never thought about it before. But once I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

That’s when I decided to investigate.

I started retracing the missing girls’ last known whereabouts. Checking places they used to go. Looking through old messages, old photos. And a pattern emerged.

They had all gone somewhere before they disappeared.

Somewhere after school.

Yujin’s house.

That’s how I found myself standing in front of her home late one evening, my hands clenched into fists, my heart pounding so loudly I thought she might hear it from inside.

Her house was nothing like I expected. No eerie mansion, no gothic towers—just a regular two-story house at the end of a quiet street. But something about it felt wrong.

The windows were too dark. The air too still.

I took a deep breath and stepped forward.

The front door was unlocked.

That should have been my first warning.

The second was the silence. No hum of a fridge, no distant sound of a television. Just stillness, pressing against my skin like a heavy fog.

And then, the third warning—

I found their things.

A dimly lit room at the end of the hall. Lockers stacked against the walls, each containing something chillingly familiar.

Jiwon’s school bag.

Haneul’s sweater.

and many other more things that definitely did not belong to Yujin.

A metallic smell clung to the air. A faint, sickly-sweet scent.

I turned to leave.

SLAM.

The door shut behind me.

The lock clicked.

And then I felt it—a presence. Cold. Watching.

I turned around slowly, my pulse thudding in my ears.

Ahn Yujin stood in the shadows, red eyes glowing like embers.

“You weren’t supposed to see this,” she murmured.

Her voice was calm, almost gentle. But there was something underneath it. Something dark.

“Yujin,” I breathed, my throat dry. “What did you do to them?”

She stepped closer.

“Why are you here?” she asked instead, tilting her head.

My feet refused to move. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run, but I knew—I knew—I wouldn’t get far.

“I had to know the truth,” I said.

Yujin sighed, almost disappointed. “I liked you,” she admitted. “You were different. Curious. Kind.”

She was right in front of me now. Close enough for me to see the way her pupils dilated, the way her fangs glinted in the dim light.

“You should’ve just stayed ignorant.”

And then she was on me.

I barely had time to struggle before I felt it—her fangs sinking into my neck, piercing my skin.

A sharp pain, like fire, followed by something strange, something intoxicating. My head spun. My body shivered. It was like drowning in warmth, like falling into something I wasn’t meant to feel.

She pulled away suddenly, breath shaky. Her eyes were wide, her expression dazed.

“…You taste different.”

Her grip on me tightened.

I gasped, my vision swimming. “W-What…?”

Her lips parted slightly, as if she were trying to understand something herself.

Then she whispered, “I can’t let you go.”

Something in her voice sent a shiver down my spine.

My body felt weak, but I moved. My elbow jabbed into her ribs, enough to make her stumble back.

I bolted.

I barely made it three steps before I was yanked back.

Her strength was unreal. Inhuman. She threw me against the lockers like I was nothing. Metal bent under my weight, pain shooting up my spine.

I tried to crawl away, reaching for the door, but she was already there, watching me struggle.

Her expression was unreadable.

I lunged again, a last-ditch attempt at the window—

She caught my wrist.

Effortlessly.

My heart sank.

Yujin pulled me in, crushing me against her body. I could feel her breath against my neck, her voice a whisper, almost… sad.

“Don’t fight me,” she murmured. “You’ll only make it worse.”

I thrashed, punching, kicking, anything—

But her grip never loosened.

It was over.

Her lips brushed against my skin again, fangs teasing before she bit down—this time, slower. Deeper.

And suddenly, I felt my body give in.

My limbs grew heavy. My fight… disappeared.

My eyes fluttered shut as a strange, blissful numbness took over.

And then I heard her voice, soft and possessive.

“You’re mine now.”

And I knew I had lost.

[howdoyouknowaboutgandalf]

please please for the fluff prompts, eddie munson + "your hair is really soft after you wash it"

Soft.

BestFriend!Eddie Munson x reader blurb

Word count: 637

“Eddie! Are you there?”, I call. He said I was good to come over for movie night, but he hasn’t let me in. I can’t exactly knock on the door with my hands full of tapes and snacks. “EDDIE! Open the door!”, after a few more screeches from me, I hear Eddie running from one end of the trailer to the front door. He, very dramatically, may I add, swings the door open. “I’m sorry!”, Eddie responds, looking mildly disheveled in his pajamas and wet hair. “I was just cleaning up for you sweetheart.”, he finishes with a wink. “Let me in you dork.” he promptly steps aside at my words and motions for me to come in. I set my things on the kitchen bar and turn to see Eddie with his arms wide beckoning me to give him a hug. I oblige, and his still very wet hair tickles my shoulders and sides of my face. I break away and say, “Okay you sap. Poltergeist or Halloween?”. He laughs softy before replying, “Hmm, Halloween?”. I walk to the tv with a nod, the movie in hand. Eddie moves to grab sodas from the fridge. We both finish our task and he plops down on the couch next to me with an exaggerated sigh. A few minutes pass, all the while I can feel Eddie’s big baby deer eyes burning a whole in the side of my head. “Go ahead. I know you want to.”, I say with a roll of my eyes and a (not so well hidden) hidden smile. His face lights up before grabbing a throw pillow and setting it in my lap before aggressively laying his messy haired head on it. “Ahh yes. My spot.”, Eddie says in a weird posh accent that I can’t really place. My hands almost immediately reach to mess with the ends of his still damp mane. “Can I play with your hair?”, I still want to make sure he’s okay with it, even though I have countless times. I can feel his head nod as he says, “Yes. Pet me.”. I pause for a moment, and (jokingly) respond, “I hate you. You make everything worse. I don’t even want to now.”. He laughs in response before grabbing my hand and bringing it to his scalp. I run my fingers across it, admiring him from above. The movie is over halfway done now, my hands still tangled in Eddie’s hair. “Your hair is so soft when you wash it.”, but he doesn’t say anything back. “Eddie?”, I try again. He hums this time. “I fell asleep for a minute.”, he mumbles. My mouth can’t help but turn up into a smile. “Go back to sleep Eds.”, he lets out a little whiny sound at that. “Can you stay the night?”, he asks, his voice is soft. “Yeah.”, I replied with a stroke to his head. He doesn’t move in the slightest. “Come on you big baby, you’ve gotta get off the couch to go to bed.” He whines again before rolling off of me and trudging to his bedroom, with me on his tail. He makes a pitstop at the bathroom while I make myself comfortable on one (my) side of the bed. He enters and all but flings himself on top of me before shuffling around to lay on my chest. My hands find their way back to his tresses. “Goodnight Eds.”, he has already settled, and I assume it won’t be long before he’s out like a light. I don’t expect him to respond, but he does. “Love you.”, his sleepy voice is muffled against my skin. “I love you too.”, I respond with a smile. His arms slither under my waist to hold me while he drifts off. My own sleep follows soon after.

More fluff prompts to request: https://www.tumblr.com/howdoyouknowaboutgandalf/774235908022075392/i-found-this-list-of-fluff-prompts-on-pinterest