#oh agents. my beloved

[tiredassmage]

wheeze. Sorry, Keeper. And sorry, Jadus, that he delivered this comment like he’s half-listening to a conversation in a cantina while he’s sipping on a martini kldafnlsdfdsf.

he’s havin’ a normal one.

[commandertartarsmoocher]

Agent 8 had enough.

The Telephone has been equipped!

[Offense went up by 888!]

[Range went up by 80!]

[Speed went down by 8!]

[chicoryblast-art]

been through the wash a couple of times

[itsjusteds]

My sweet sweet boys 😭😭😭 If curtwen has no supporters, I'm dead

[moeblob]

I met people I knew only online for the first time irl last night and I'm still extremely exhausted cause I am not a social person so here. Take an OC.

Katale (Kitty) is wonderful and I love her and she's a criminal and that's fine. She likes to look cute and so whenever I see a really cute outfit in public with a specific vibe, I'm like "Kitty would love that". So here. Please. Please know that I saw this very pretty woman jogging with her hair pulled back, running shorts, and the CUTEST top with a little scarf from the same fabric tied and wow. It was. So wonderful, please have a wonderful day @ the lady I saw jogging yesterday.

[sun-citadel]

Watching TFA, and this is incredibly relevant

[kellterntempest]

I'm intensely excited to see Agent Stone and Dr Robotnik in Sonic 3 oh my godddddddd

[lavenoon]

...then weirdly silly when they learn they've both just been in closer contact with their estranged brother. (And, uh, wait a second... Some of those stories they share are weirdly similar...)

All i can think about is Robin while talking to Dusk asks how their brother "Eclipse" is doing or asking Sun how "Horizon" is doing, mixing up the names to either of them but neither Dusk or Sun notice. They just happily talk about their brother and how he's doing.

Robin now sitting there going "well shit these three are related to each other" still somehow not realizing that Sun and Dusk are the same body and is just thinking it's one confusing family.

That would be such a dumb reveal because it's like "Oh I know your brother Sun! He's my neighbor. Why don't you visit him?" and Dusk is just a deer in headlights trying to process everything.

Have a nice day/night dear, Take Care!

: )

God okay the sheer hilarity re: this post

So Y/N does their little test, goes "Hm alright weird coincidence that I work with one and one lives with me, but I guess it's fine? Either I'm good at my job or they don't talk much either since they don't know I know the other. Oh well! (:" and then continues on their merry way

So during a mission, when Dusk shares another story...

"So then we - ugh, actually... It's been funny for a while I but I guess I should mention there's also -"

"Oh don't worry, I know about your other brother. He rents from me."

Robin is so entirely nonchalant by that point, having heard so much private information over the past few weeks that they don't mind sharing this much either, and Dusk bluescreens.

So not only does Robin know about Sun, but they also casually revealed their identity, and somehow still don't know about Dawn?

Takes a moment, but then also figures, that, well... Sun mentioned talking to the landlord more often and a lot about Eclipse, and given the situation, it probably was only a matter of time anyway. This might as well happen style.

"... Half the rent is coming from me."

Now it's on Robin to freeze.

"What?"

"Sun and I are one animatronic. Little bird, did you ever see me during the day? Or him during the night?"

Robin buffers for a moment, thinking. Comes up blank.

Hits him with the flat of their hand in indignation.

"Are you kidding me? You two have some sort of - of - are you literally Batman??? Wait. Wait. I never saw you at home either??"

"We live with you and can't drive, do we look like Batman to you? Apparently, the landlord missed me being mentioned due to being severely sleep deprived."

He spares a second to send them a withering (mock) glare.

"So I was supposed to introduce myself, but they always worked nights, and then it became more and more awkward. And it was just you, this entire time."

"Don't you fucking glare at me, Moon man. You were the one dragging out that mission so I couldn't catch any sleep before Sun came by!"

"I guess I can finally say this, please stop using my real name as a tease one day the wrong person is gonna hear and think we told each other from the start."

"As opposed to now being better? Wait." (Robin also is a little shit) "Your name is Moon man?"

"Try that again but with brain cells at work."

"This is gonna be great. Wait."

They think further, using those brain cells.

"What. What does Sun do for work. If you're the same animatronic."

Dusk now metaphorically sweats, because despite the rest of the reveal going over smoothly, this bit was intentional fuckery from his side and he has Regrets

"So, uh, what I originally intended to tell you earlier. I thought it'd be funny for you to find out on your own, but that kinda... Got away from me."

"I already hate everything about this."

"He does undercover missions as Dawn. That's how I get my intel."

Robin closes their eyes, taking a deep breath and mentally counting to ten.

It doesn't help.

"Get down here so I can strangle you!"

"Dove, I'd love to see you try, but can I also just process a little longer? Once I've accepted that Eclipse infected us with the need to reveal confidential information I'm all yours."

They take some time, maybe chilling on a roof somewhere, sitting down at some point and Robin kicks at his leg out of spite before sitting back and taking off their mask.

He's looking, now.

Neither of them are scared, because they also grew closer thanks to how much Dusk shared. They are friends, not just rivals, and no matter what they have that.

Sun gets a very casual reveal too - Moon simply tells him about last night's conversation during the next switch, Y/N already passed out in bed, so it's not a 2 vs 1 situation. Some teasing for sure, but also just amused reminiscing once Sun's shock wears off, and then a seamless transition into "We all know, and we're okay" <3

[warraigoe]

i'm going through emails and found one from myself almost 10 years ago... and it's just the mp4 of the full b/obobo bo b/obobo theme song. nothing else is enclosed in the email.

[grand-line-shenanigans]

Yuri Briar my beloved Rat Man (rant in the tags)

[tiredassmage]

can we hear more about in dreams, hopes to die... 👉👈 those lines are so tasty..

CHOMPING AT THE BIT, AYE AYE CAPTAIN!!!!

Would you believe me if I reveal that this snippet is from the same piece? It's obviously an overall not very good time kind of piece, so I felt a tiny bit bad about it for once and decided to throw Tyr a bone. Valkorian and Tyr's own conga line of bad times couldn't be the only thing in five years worth of dreams, I figured, lol.

Also, that very scene is where the banger In the dark, it’s easier to hide and easier to tell the truth came from, lol.

Don't get too excited though because that's... very short. And also it's mentally set to Eyelids by PVRIS, so uh. It still punches me in the face.

Eventually I'll hopefully throw him another bone and give him and Theron's time on Rishi or Yavin IV a little pass because I'd like to think Theron's at least a little right and something came up. And stars know Tyr needs a fuckin' break, good gods almighty anlkfdnafldsf. Says she who continues to put that man in Situation after Situation after Situa-

And it was very hard to stop at just the first line for that initial post because the three lines that follow it are the meat and potatoes of what is currently the opening sequence of what I hope will eventually be a coherent fic. Or at least kinda coherent. It's still a very nebulous piece and I kinda like that, so I might not really do much more setup because it seems fitting that there wouldn't be a lot of setup and transition in something like the carbonite dreams era.

And, perhaps unsurprisingly given the nature of the setup of that chapter, but a lot of these scenes flirt with the concept of death. Tyr's dangerous dedication to "finishing the job" isn't anything new to those of us who have been here a while, lol, but this is a good character study piece if you're newer to my favorite blorbo, though it's an undeniably heavy one and obviously a bit fucky and nebulous by nature.

Also, fair warning, yes I'm giving you lines, but also I am going to give you a ramble and a half about Tyr lore because this is the piece I'm stuffing some juicy tick-tock workings into because I realized it was good for that and I love my boy so much, he's so fucked up. I love him though.

Anyway, I teased, so the next three lines of that scene, as foretold beneath the cut:

At first, it’s a firing squad. Mud cakes their boots and the rain pelts heavy on worn, drawn faces.

Tyr pushes to his feet unsteadily. A flash of lighting breaks overhead, glancing off of leveled blasters and hollowed eyes.

It will end as it should: without a soul remembering his name. He’d prefer it that way.

Okay, so... this is also not necessarily a piece I intended to write, but I realized there is... almost no better place to do a deep dive into some of the things that tick inside of Tyr that maybe aren't best portrayed in dialogue alone. This also wasn't meant to be in present tense, but it didn't feel right in past, so I ended up caving and that's... been a theme of the week, I guess, lol.

This is also like. I always chuckle a bit in that scene from Visions in the Dark later where Valkorian threatens you to meet his challenge and grow stronger or die alone and unremembered because wouldn't that just be ideal for a former Cipher. Wasn't that how the story was supposed to end? He didn't ask for your bullshit, grandpa.

There's currently two other scenes I have - they're all relatively short as I try to keep with that sort of drifting feeling. But the other one that might [Large Eyes Emoji] be of... relevant interest...

What’s been done has already been done. It doesn’t matter what it was. Maybe it won’t matter to anyone else.

Because it’s going to end here and now. Such were the decrees of the Sith - of the Empire.

Absolutes.

It matters to him that he tried. This is one of the kinder ways this could go - quietly, without the fanfare of blood on his teeth and a fire in his eyes.

“For what it’s worth, sir?” Nine exhales long and slow as he closes his eyes. “I’ve always admired you… You did your best.”

Finally.

No.

More.

Running.

“But I’m not going back.” The old man’s one of the few he could ever hope to ask this final favor. “Finish this - what we started.”

The Minister of Intelligence pulls the trigger.

It’s over before Tyr feels the ground beneath him.

Also topical given the "are others concerned about their sleep schedule" tag post reblogged earlier today, lol, and the idea of chronic nightmares. That Tyr and I haven't talked about. To each other. Or the world. Possibly not with the people he cares about, either. I'm sure Theron knows nebulously that he can have some troubled sleep - you don't share a bed with someone and not notice how consistently they have trouble falling or staying asleep.

But I think the fuckiest part of the whole Castellan Restraints period for Tyr is how he doesn't want to let the old man down. The Minister is more a father figure in Tyr's eyes than his own father, quite honestly [Tyr has a... kind of non-existant relationship with his entire family, unfortunately - and it's not because he went into Intelligence], and there's absolutely a part of that dynamic that is mentor and protégé.

And it's important to me that he sees this scenario with the Minister and not Shara - at least in Chapter Two, where it first haunts his nightmares with some consistency. Because I made a conscious choice in Shara knowing as Keeper about his Restraints - not because that ever comes up in-game, but because it adds something very crunchy to their already doomed narrative. And the background to that decision is that I decided it's... the kind of silent acknowledgement that the Minister can afford to give of their more intimate relationship. It's damage control, mitigation. With a heavy heart I imagine he tells her this in private, off the record, because Nine was her Cipher. And both of them still hold him in high regard.

Nine's given a possibly unusually loose leash to pursue the SIS investigation because of the Minister and Keeper's word; Watcher Three mentions this in broad strokes when he questions you about the blackout in records.

Anyway, the point to me mentioning this is actually that Tyr makes a very conscious effort to not think about this in the midst of the Restraints causing problems. He's reluctant enough to cede that he should hold the Minister responsible for this gross violation of his privacy and trust, but he's even more reluctant to give that the woman he loves has any knowledge or hand in the process - unwittingly or, especially, wittingly. Ultimately, he stubbornly doesn't hold them responsible. It hurts less to place the blame elsewhere. And he never loses the inescapable nostalgic kick to go home in the sense of the old paradigm - him and Keeper and the Minister.

He gave them everything.

And there's something in here about his regret at not being able to say all of this respect in better words or more directly. There's that acknowledgement that there's one person he trusts to understand why this was his breaking point. And, ultimately, there's the acceptance of the likelihood that none of this is going to end well, that he's living on borrowed time stolen from fate or destiny, or hell, maybe the Force. Tyr doesn't give a whole lot to whatever higher powers might be out there - relying on them hasn't ever saved him and he doesn't expect it to.

It makes it very interesting to watch him knowingly and willingly lie about the Black Codex after he lets Ardun walk with it and promises to double for the SIS. In a way, he's committing the greatest failure and throwing away everything the Minister has fought so hard with him to maintain and keep, especially when both of them have spoken of ideals instead of goals, etc. But it's necessary. It's what's best for Tyr, mentally, at that point. And even one of the figures he loves and respects the most can't override that desperate intrinsic need to fight for himself. The old man is, after all, one of the largest advocates of it throughout his career as Nine.

And, I suppose speaking of the nostalgia for Intelligence, my favorite set of lines from the final scene so far:

She’s sobbing against his shoulder. Dust and blood stain an almost unfamiliar uniform - he hasn’t worn uniform on Dromund Kaas in months, maybe years…

Everything’s been such a blur since Intelligence was disbanded…

so YEAH. I uh. I have a lot of feelings and this is where I'm sniffling and sobbing and word vomiting them into one doc but in story format, I suppose, lol.

Also completely unrelated to this particular fic but I am. Still thinking so intently about Eight x Tyr thoughts. They're now living rent free in my head and all of this.... absolute devotion stuff... hrhrhghghghghghghghrhhg. Brain vibrates because this is obviously all related to it because of the few people who could ever possibly understand any part of this series of events and feelings, it'd be another Cipher.

Tyr really does mourn Intelligence like... ghhghg. I'm unwell about it. He gave everything to it and its success. He doesn't regret it. The SIS investigation and the following fall of Imperial Intelligence were some of the worst fucking years of his life and it's destroyed him, really. He's living in and with the ruins like a bombed out city. It destroyed his everything and he'd almost gladly let it finish the job and destroy him to finally get his retribution. And he'd just as gladly let love destroy it all and rebuild it from the rubble when he has the right person beside him. Something something doesn't realize that he doesn't want or need to continue that destruction, he just needs fucking... idk validation or something. Acceptance. Acknowledgement. And then they can work on what "okay" looks like in the aftermath. He needs to be just as responsible for someone else's "okay" to even begin figuring out what the hell it looks like for him. hOUgh anyway.

I'm fucking normal about Cipher Nine, obviously. Thanks for comin' to my TED Talk.

[fictionallyinparadise]

I need to kiss my pretty boys I need to give them many kisses

[squarerooto]

once I finally actually draw my agents and the other group of splatoon ocs I have it's all over for you guys

[undreaming-fanfiction]

My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Family? Assemble!

Reporter: Gotham News, and we have a new supervillain on the line. Mr Phantom, what are your demands at the moment? Phantom with lack of sleep and with tears: I..I want a titanium model of a spaceship! And to get a good night’s sleep and to go to the local school…and some fudge and.. Reporter: Oh, my bad. Just one question for clarification, are you by any chance an orphan or are your parents villains? Phantom: I prefer the term mad scientists Reporter: Okay. So, Gotham news! And with me on the line is the new potential child of Wayne or Batman. Want to know how two serial adopters will share a child leading a double life? Stay with us and find out. Now let's check in with Jessie for our weather report. Phantom: Wait, what?

~~~~~

Danny spends the night running from the Red Hood with a bag of fudge, Red Robin with a pot of coffee, Batman with the adoption papers and, for some reason, Brucie Wayne with an idea of internship at a space station. Ha! The Justice League will never let a ghost into orbit. Not that Wayne can blackmail superheroes or smth. Danny: Fuck you all! I’m done with vigilante activity, I’m not your competitor! What do you want from me? And I’m done with crazy billionaires too. I swear, I’d rather be adopted by a local mob boss just to piss you off! ~Later~ Danny *sees peering out of the corner Matches Malone*: Are you kidding me?! Robbie *jumps off the roof and lands right behind Danny*: Stop running, lil brother, No one’s left the family yet. Minnie: What about Neal? Robbie *shakes a knife with a bow on the handle negatively*: He’s on sabbatical, that doesn’t count. Anyway, it’s a gift for you, cub. Danny: Um, thank you, but my lab scalpels are definitely sterile, and your blade was in who knows who before you brought it here. Robbie: It’s brand-new! And Archie decorated it with a ghost on the handle. Look! It's cute! With a smile and… Dick: Hands up! You’re under arrest for trying to steal our new member! Minnie: Why is he yours, damn cop? Selina: Boys, don’t fight. He’s mine. Schrodinger’s cat is still a kitten. Killer Croc: No way, my niece is staying with me. Danny: Uncle Waylon? Long time no see. Ra's: My grandson needs steady access to ectoplasm. Danyal, come with me. Danny: Over my dead body! Oh shiii…I mean no. Anyway, don’t you think the alley’s getting a little crowded?

~~~~

Killer Croc: Is he still mad at me? RR: Danny doesn’t talk to uncles who tried to eat his beloved brother Red Robin. Killer Croc: He wasn’t even your brother then. What do you want? An apology from me? RR: That would be nice.

~~~~

Danny: I didn’t think the GIW agents would really fear the reputation of Gotham and not follow me. What a relief! Jason *quickly throws the knife into the sink*: Wow, you got lucky. Alfred: Master Jones, why don’t you eat your steak? I thought last week you were complaining to Batman that 'cause of him you got not many prey. Croc *pulls a piece of white robe from the teeth*: Well, now there is a lot of it. Bruce *gives Jason and Croc the side-eye*.

~~~~

Ra's: You do realize that Malone, Wayne and Batman are the same person, right? Boy, you were born into a family of geniuses, don’t disappoint Grandpa. Danny: Triple pocket money, triple gifts for the holidays, the opportunity to complain about the same family member three times. No, Grandpa, I definitely don’t understand. Ra's: Smart little weasel.

~~~~

Selina: Okay. Purely theoretical. Do you like to steal? Danny: I wouldn’t say that. But somehow I stole the sword from the fright knight. And also stole few jewels but then I was under the mind control. I returned them. Well, the crown and ring of the king of the ghost zone I also took without permission. Oh, and the answers to the test once. And I’m really sorry about the last one. Neal: I feel the story behind it but I prefer to know nothing about it.

[liliewrites]

"MY SALVATION."

a/n : hi, so.. uhm, after a long hiatus lmao, i've finally decided to return and stay for good. yay! so this will be a part of a series titled "you who i worship, before you i kneel." which is a three part series featuring arlecchino, raiden ei and furina!:) all of which are NSFW. i'll be posting regularly every week during fridays!! thanks a bunch for reading.

-warning/s ; NSFW (mdni), transfem! arlecchino, maybe ooc?

-pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem! reader (men dni) - where in; these three women worship you, their lover, when hundreds and thousands, even millions of followers would drop on their knees to ask for blessings, for mercy, for prayers - and yet for you, at your beck and call, they would do anything you ask as they kneel for you at the same time , as proof of their devotion to you.

”my l-lord, i didn’t mean to-”

”silence, and shut your mouth. you imbecile.” the knave’s unforgiving tone had shut the fatui agent’s mouth, and a blade had been shot on the ground, just a few millimeters where the agent kneeled in front of her for mercy. it was a warning shot, no- a message telling that agent how badly they fucked up for even letting those treasure hoarders lay a single finger on you.

”incompetent, useless, even my children could do better than you. i made a mistake by entrusting my wife’s safety to you.”

the knave spat once more, turning her back on the agent, and the agent started to beg. he knew, that this could be his final moments as she started to walk away. “lyney, take him away. i shall go see your mother.” she ordered, and her orders were absolute. lyney had taken away the agent, to who knows where, and his cries echoed into the hallway- until they were no more.

arlecchino had walked in the chambers she shared with her wife, and on their bed, her beloved lay. at the sound of the door opening, you immediately sat up to greet your wife with a smile and were about to stand up, but she looked at you with a stare which told you not to, so you stay still on the edge of the bed. “my beloved, what is the matter?” you ask with a tired and worried sigh.

the knave kneels in front of you, gently laying her cheek on your lap.

this was a clear sign to you that your beloved had been troubled and you took it as a cue to start running your hands through her hair, undoing the braids and comforting her with your touch. “my beloved, i was worried..” she murmured, confiding her emotions to you, her most trusted confidante. she raised her head up to meet your eyes, and there, you saw her eyes filled with care, with worry, eyes that she’d never show to anyone else other than you. hell, you were sure that no one else knew or even thought that the knave was capable of even looking like this.

”my beloved, if anything were to happen to you..”

now it was her turn to touch you, her hand reaching up to caress your cheek— softly, gently, complete juxtapose to her intimdating appearance.“i could never forgive myself, my beloved..” she continued, now getting up to meet your lips with hers. oh, how she longed for you— she would always long for you, and how scared she was that she’d never get to do this again. to feel your warmth, the subtle sighs that left your lips, as the kiss slowly became more and more heated, fueled with more fervor, and she had gently pushed you down on the soft bed. her hands ran down your smooth skin, which were much different to her much rougher and bigger hands, and she spread kisses on your neck. “my goddess, my beloved.. oh how i’ve missed you.” she admitted, licking on your skin, craving to taste you. she kept chanting “my beloved” again and again like a prayer against your skin, and her hand trailed down, lower, and lower.

until your breath hitched.

”a-arlecchino, slowly.. please..” you begged, and your orders were absolute. arlecchino wanted to disobey, to ruin you, to rut into you with reckless abandon, but no, your words were her calling. she gently eased a finger in, then looking at you. “is this to your liking, my beloved?” she asked, and your nod gave her a positive sign that she was doing well. slowly, but surely, her finger felt every single corner of your insides, causing you to moan and cry, due to pleasure at first, but then it turned to one of need. it was her cue to start adding another in all while increasing the pace, and you let out a cry, she gently hushed you with a kiss and you looked at her with eyes filled with tears. “my beloved, are you okay?” she asked, and you nodded, unable to answer. her fingers felt so damn good. “then shall i take it that i can lead for tonight, my beloved?” she asked, and you nodded once more.

she got up, kneeling on top of you as she started undoing her clothes with haste as she took in your beauty, the breathtaking sight of her goddess under her, and she strongly believed that no sight in teyvat could rival this. as soon as all the pesky fabric was peeled away, the tip of her dick had prodded at the entrance of your folds, and no more than a little while— were you moaning and crying her name. asking her for more, to go harder, to go faster, and who was she to deny her beloved’s wishes and demands?

the knave’s loyalty does not lay itself to snezhnaya’s archon, no, for it belongs to her beloved. she lives to please you, to make love to you in more ways than one, to nourish life within the house of hearth with you as it was your wish.

arlecchino had let herself free from all the restraint that had been holding her back, her hips raised at a certain angle where it'd hit the spot she knew would drive you crazy. her lips pressing against the most sensitives spots of your skin, painting it with subtle marks that ignited a possessive ember within her chest. you were as much as hers, as much as she was yours. nothing could change that-- and arlecchino made sure of it.

with one loud groan and a sharp thrust, you felt her warmth flooding your insides. arlecchino slowly leaned in to press a soft kiss against your cheek, panting and breathless, with a gentle smile. tonight was a living memory, one of the many testimonies of her devotion for you, and the tsarita be damned. she lives for you, she serves you, and she would die for you. to her, you were her world. her goddess. her beloved.