#so no worries to the people enjoying them

[clockwayswrites]

Bird Cuddles Part 26ish

Masterpost

This is hardly a full scene, though a stopping point. But I'm feeling positively dismal today so wanted to share something. Enjoy, hopefully!

-

Bruce sighed.

It was all that he could do when his two oldest were standing in front of him, both trying to laugh as quietly as possible. Dick’s fist was basically stuffed in his mouth to keep quiet where as Jason was using sheer force of will (and a good amount of smugness) to stay quiet.

“Be nice,” Bruce mouthed silently.

“No.” Jason mouthed back gleefully.

Bruce had the distinct urge to bury his face into the soft wings and simply ignore his sons even being in the room with him. He didn’t give into that urge because he was sure if he did, neither would ever let him live it down. Even as he was thinking that, Dick pulled out his cellphone and snapped a photo.

Bruce felt his phone vibrate a moment later.

He sighed again.

Luckily, Cass swept in a moment later (apparently it was to be a full house at dinner), kissed Bruce lightly on his temple, and went over to her brothers. She looked at Dick’s phone, nodded at the picture, and then took each of the boy’s hands and led them out of the room.

Jason left with one last smirk, but at least the door was closed behind them with a definitive latch.

Bruce still waited a long moment before he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

The picture certainly looked incriminating.

When Danny had fallen asleep, likely exhausted from soothing the boys, the panic attack, and the general drama of the day, he had nodded off sitting upright. When the boys had left, Damian had tasked Bruce with ‘seeing it that Dr. Fenton stayed well’. It was shortly after that when Danny had started shifting, as if trying to get comfortable with the wings, and ended up tilting over.

Once he had settled, Danny had ended up curled across Bruce’s lap with his knees on one side of Bruce and his head on the other. One of the wings was tucked up against Bruce’s chest while the other wing, limp with sleep, stretched out along Bruce’s leg and down to the floor.

Bruce ran his fingers lightly over the white feathers. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his horde of children, but Bruce was completely unbothered by having someone nap on him. The thing that he was bothered by, despite his best efforts to separate himself from the nightlife, is how comfortable he was about that someone being Danny.

Really, there was relatively little that they knew about Danny. The biggest point in Danny’s favor was that Lucius trusted Danny—trusted Danny enough to consider bring Danny in to work with the Bats. The biggest point against Danny were the same wings that Bruce was running his fingers over.

Not that Bruce would ever judge someone negatively for being a meta. Almost all of Bruce’s closest friends were or became metas, after all, even if some of them were now also rogues. The meta status was almost easy to handle. The concerning part were all of the little details that Danny had hinted at about how he had become a meta: neglectful parents, a lab accident at a young age, extensive scaring. Bruce touched the faint Lichtenberg scars lightly. It made Bruce worry about what had triggered the change in Danny. After all, some of Bruce’s closest friends where now also rogues.

It was unfair to compare Danny to Harvey.

It was hard not to.

The fact that it was hard not to compare Danny to Harvey was concerning in itself. Bruce’s track record in the people that he found alluring was far from ideal. It felt almost like dooming Danny simply by the fact that Bruce had taken note of him. Already Danny was getting caught up in the turmoil of their lives and suffering for it.

That was perhaps too harsh. Danny had handled himself more than admirably, wings and all. Danny’s actions made sure that the boys had time to get to the safe room, stayed safe once there, and that the assault ended with minimal bloodshed. Bruce just wished that the change it caused hadn’t left Danny in a state of panic.

Bruce sighed. Maybe he had to remember that Danny wasn’t someone that Bruce was responsible for; Danny was a competent adult who could clearly protect himself from at least lower level threats. It wasn’t fair for Bruce to try and make decisions for Danny, even in an effort to protect him from the craziness of being near the Wayne family.

[hereonlytofeedwormsinmybrain]

Gonna do it for myself just because

It's okay, altough very conditional

My best friend probably. I genuinely love her so much.

Yes and no, but it's somewhat pointless to dwell about. I'm making some small steps to do stuff I'd do differently back then.

Yeah

Single, never been in a relationship beside friendship and I kinda feel I've missed my window for first one. I'm okay with it tho, probably on a aroace spectrum

I feel like I'm gonna age as an old person. I would like to die with clear mind and self sufficient body.

Peach yoghurt with granola

Not really, I started enjoying sports only few years ago, but I'm still insecure about my skills and body. Want to get into boxing next year.

Not anymore

I've never had any physical fight

I like a lot of people, no one romantically so

Yeah, I studied at an art school and have ADHD, so

No actually

Terribly.

Not now. I love pets, but more in an uncle/aunt way. I'm allergic, very sensory sensitive, and leading somewhat chaotic life.

Neutral. I'm procrrastinating updating my CV, so a little bit worried about that

Never made out with anyone, so no

No, I like them, but in the place I live in they are really small and chill, big one stress me a little bit. Not fear tho, and I like cohabitating with them

I was thinking about it lately, when feverish! And: maybe? I would do a lot of things differently if I could go back like eight years, when I was starting my final year of high school. Very different decisions. Would take better care of myself and wouldn't spiral into this years long depressive/burnout episode. Like I said before, I'm trying to do some stuff I should've done before

blank answer

Uhhhhh I have school so probably deal with interior design and graphic programs

I don't want to bring people, either as a birthing parent nor. not sure how to say it? other parent who also made decision? But I would like to adopt one day, if I have this option, preferably older or teenaged kid. Not building my life toward this moment tho

One, cause the other in other ear closed up. I want one in each nostril, but now I'm dealing with allergies and shit so yeah

As in what?

Terribly. Also, kinda repeating question

Nothing really

Don't think so, but I'm also very oblivious. Maybe platonically.

Nope

blank answer

this guy who is guest in my flat rn, really annoying and don't understand "no" in more annoying way, not creepy way. He's leaving tmr morning

My friends, at least my best friend

I like colors in general so baby blue and hues of red maybe

Yeah

Don't remember

Uhhhhhh my therapist probably? I'm not a big crier

Nope, in fact, I'm too fast to cut people off. Working on it too. Only person who got a shitton on chances was my sister up to the moment she broke my heart. We haven't really talked in like. two and half years

Forget

Not really, 2023 was way better, but it was a decent year for sure

Not sure if it counts, cause I've never had kiss with person i actually wanted to kiss, but kissed some friends when I was uhhhh 22?

Nope. Fuckup with question numbers?

I like cooking in general and do it well, but my comfort food I do always when too tired to do anything else is spaghetti pasta with tomato sauce, since I was a little kid

Yes and not, more like life is this huge choices tree, so like every time you make some choice, new options appears. Logical to me

Read some fanfic

Depends on definition of cheating and relationship, but I do believe cheating as in breaking trust of other person who loves you on deep and intimate level is always wrong.

I think I'm more cruel than mean? And often people read me as mean, this the life of autistic person. I feel my core is just leyers and leyers of kind and cruel

No one???? Are you guys okay

Once again, what's definition? But I'm more into bell hooks understanding of love, as set of action rather than feeling, so how do you define realness in this definition

Big summer storm with lightnings and thunder, that brings coolness after warm and lazy day

Yes, a lot! There's not a lot of it nowadays, but I like it a lot when happens

I see marriage more as a buisness/legal thing, but if I'm ever in a long term realtionship, I probably would like one. Illegal for me in my country atm

When a girl or nb person does it. It shortcuts me a little ngl (hoping for someone who would call me this all the time. Spiritually I'm bottom, would love to check it out irl). When guys try it, even in jokes, I got a violent whiplash

Being in mountain. Spending time with my best friend. Sense of calm after big and dramatic emotions or meltdowns. Playing drums!!!! I have my second lesson tmr :)

Yes, I seriously consider this rn! Anecdote: I was a volounteer and I didn't recognized my name on a timesheet and missed my shift (: But honestly I gotta consider it, feels like a lot. Plus gotta check how my parents feel about it, would hate to get hate crimed and cut off financially. You never know with my parents, look point 1.

Yes, cause I fucking hate her and she's my sister's serious girlfriend rn :)

I'm nb, so it's kinda??? but seeing as I'm read as woman societally and describing myself as a lesbian. Well it would be fucking bad, sorry for that man. My guy friend wouldn't do it to me tho, we all have very sibling/familial realtionship and I draw setup for painting for his new girlfriend so!!!! Cute. As to my girl friend, well, would be awkward cause I really don't want to be her "girl-best friends toxic situationship", not gonna happen tho, she's very straight. If happened, yeah but no, love her but she's not great as romantic partner

(Definitions like in 55) Not complete complete, cause I don't act completely myself to anyone, maybe my best friend? But yeah, we are pretty close with my guy friend

Annoying guest

My best friend

I enjoy the idea of and soulmates in media, but in reality it feels somewhat more tragic and creepy. Not really.

Hmmm. Seeing my past suicidal ideation, I would rather live for someone. And I kinda do, actually :)

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika and tarotreader!reader. Reader showing up in Zaun all of a sudden. Basically taking residence in a dark corner of the last drop. Sevika may have seen them from the corner of the eye but never played much mind until rumors spread that their prediction always come true. Sevika, who may not believe in fate, is intrigued.

i love this so much hehehe

men and minors dni

technically, all magic, whether it's derived from the arcane, divination, or religion; is outlawed in piltover and zaun.

technically.

but realistically, you and every other person you know with any kind of magical gift are highly valued commodities for the wealthy families in the city.

you see, good business decisions and solutions to political struggles are rarely born out of human ingenuity. nine times out of ten, if the city of progress is making any progress at all; it's because the powerful and wealthy have double and triple checked with their various psychics, priests, and mages that whatever they have planned will be beneficial to them, too.

for a while, you made some real good money working as mrs. kirraman's personal tarot reader.

you were under the assumption that because you avoided consulting her on any political or financial matter, that your background as a zaunite wouldn't come into question when you give your (sometimes hard to hear) fortunes and advice.

but when the cards started letting you in on secrets mrs. kirraman wasn't keen on letting out ((and yes i'm talking about @micronreadzztuff22 's garnet-- an oc that's having an affair with cassanda eheh)) the woman you once admired for her ventilation systems in your home city shows you a nasty side of herself.

"mrs. kirraman... i don't mean to accuse you of anything... but the cards are asking you to be careful about any secrets you might not want getting out."

"pardon?" the woman asked, her face paling in the candlelight.

"i... i worry your husband's growing suspicious of y-your... loyalty."

"what, exactly, are you accusing me of?"

"i'm not judging you, ma'am, and i promise you all my clients have my full confidenti--"

"who put you up to this?!"

"n-nobody. it's in the cards."

"oh, i should've known better than to trust some scamming sump-rat--"

"ex-cuse me?! mrs. kirraman, i've been advising you for three years, and the cards have never led you or i astray--"

"i recommend you shut your mouth and leave the premise before i call for security." she said as she stormed out of the room.

so, that was the end of that gig. you left the premise in the strong arms of a kirraman guard, muttering about summoning janna and cursing the family and woman. of course, you aren't capable of casting curses, but you enjoyed the spooked look your empty threats got out of her as you were dragged off of her property.

it's for the best. or at least, that's what the cards tell you.

you've got a little shop set up in the undercity now, just across the street from the last drop in the heart of zaun. your busiest hours are the evenings when people stumble out of the bar, a little buzzed and needing some advice.

business is fine. you're happy to be working back at home. you just can't help but feel like you're missing something.

and then you meet sevika.

from the moment she steps into your shop, you know she's gonna be trouble for you. she's all skeptical and guarded, looking at you like she can't tell if you're crazy or scamming her. it's hilarious.

"care for a reading?" you ask.

she raises an eyebrow at you. "...so are you a psychic or...?"

you chuckle. "a tarot reader. i don't read minds, just cards."

"hm." sevika sits down at the counter. "alright, fine. how much are you chargin'?" she asks. you chuckle.

"depends how hard your question is."

"what am i doin' tomorrow night?" sevika asks. you roll your eyes and shake your head, pulling two cards. wheel of fortune and the devil. you chuckle.

"gambling?" you guess.

sevika smirks. "easy guess."

"fuck off. you got a question or what?" you ask. sevika sighs.

"what do you know about silco?"

"i told you i'm not a psychic--"

"no no--" sevika cuts you off with a laugh. "i mean, you've heard of him, right?"

"sure." you say, nodding.

"he... might be interested in hiring you as an advisor." sevika mutters. you chuckle.

"you don't sound too happy about it."

"i don't believe in psychics."

"oh, janna, this is gonna be miserable, isn't it?" you groan. sevika huffs a laugh.

it isn't until you've been working with silco for a full month that sevika starts to respect your predictions' accuracy.

it takes another month for her to start being friendly to you.

and then, by month three, sevika's one of your closest friends.

and she asks for a reading.

"you sure you trust me?" you ask with a giggle as you shuffle your deck. sevika huffs and rolls her eyes.

"i've seen the shit you predict for silco. you knew finn was gonna flip before we even knew he was upset. c'mon, give me your worst."

you chuckle a bit, then flip a card. "huh." you mumble. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.

"what?" she asks.

the lovers. you chuckle and shake your head. "you got a crush on anybody?" you ask, flipping another card as sevika sputters across the desk.

"wh-- do i-- what the fuck are you talking about?" sevika's eyes are darting around the room like she's nervous, or something, and you don't understand why she's suddenly so antsy until you look down at your cards.

the high priestess. "oh." you giggle.

sevika's eyes fly to yours and she groans. "shoulda known better than to ask the fuckin' psychic i'm crushin' on to give me a reading, huh?"

you laugh. "only if you were hoping i wouldn't find out."

"fuck. i thought you were gonna tell me to quit smoking or something."

you snort. "i can tell you that, i don't need the cards for it."

"well..." sevika grunts and flails her hands out.

"well?" you ask. she groans again.

"you gonna charge me double if i ask you another question?" she asks. you grin.

"depends what the question is."

"for fuck's sa-- will you go out with me?" sevika whines. you grin.

"i knew you were gonna be someone special to me."

"oh yeah?" sevika asks with a hesitant smile. "the cards tell you that?"

"nah. didn't need 'em to know that." you say with a shrug.

sevika grins, and your cards flutter to the ground as she darts across the table to kiss you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @greenhazes

[the-tarot-witch22]

How you can love yourself more? - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My year goal post

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - 10 of pentacles, Strength and the moon)

Okay so the very first thing I heard and feel is that you guys need to embrace your true self and leave people pleasing behind, like show who you are to world, if they don't accept it or you, then they are not for you! Your guides were also being like there are things or some lessons that they needs to go on their own, we can give them strength for the same, but what lessons they take it from it, its up to them. I also heard this group might use some self pampering, or self positive affirmation this group might at times worry a lot, I also feel this whoever chose this pile is quite spiritual, or have spiritual powers but some are just not awaken yet, I also feel this group is quite strong, they have gone through numerous things, they just need to accept they are worthy of it ALSO I am hearing stop with letting people who do bare minimum, stop putting them on pedestal, again with knowing self worth, I also FEEL for few of you could have had toxic patterns, friendships or relationships, which left you broken, and what I am hearing is, they made you who you are now, so embrace that part of you, and forgive yourself. You can also love yourself by indulging in activities which gives you pleasure! LIKE yes. this group feel quite rational, the zodiac signs I am getting for this group is air signs, especially Gemini sun/moon/rising, earth signs Capricorn and Virgo. I am also getting that let loose don't control the outcome, go with the flow, live day by day. For some of you I am getting, take proper care of your skin, don't chew on lips, and pick on acne scars. This was so specific and had to write it out for you, I also feel do things which scares you no matter the outcome, just go for it~

That's all pile 1, your pile had such sweet messages and I love it for you guys, love yourself and be you!

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - 4 of wands, wheel of fortune, 9 of swords and the 7 of pentacles)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and hear is you won't be unproductive if you take your time off, and have a gap in school year, job or anything related to career, so stop with being so harsh on yourself, I also feel this pile can love themselves more by being on their own, rather than forcing themselves to be with people who aren't meant for them, or they feel they can't quite fit in, I also feel some of you from this pile have to go out of comfort zone, in order to enjoy or love themselves, by not caring what people think of you or for you. I also feel you can love yourself by gifting yourself things you like, if they are out of budget then save for it, it will bring you immense pleasure. I also feel you can love yourself by enjoying and celebrating small moments in your life, or win, you passed your grade? gift yourself something even a small treat, you got a job? you got work done? gift yourself something, not gonna lie, this group is quite materialistic lol, not ALL of you, but SOME of you! hehe, but its not a bad thing at all~ I also feel you should embrace your uniqueness, this group might have body image or self esteem issues, and it makes sense the message i got for not caring what think of you, even if you embarrass yourself remember , no one remembers, be compassionate with yourself, treat yourself the way, you treat others, with kindness, you deserve it, I also feel this group might have a hobby of reading so get back into it or continue doing it, because its a form of self love for you, I also feel, this pile works really hard, so guys? take it easy you will get rewards soon, and don't doom scroll at night take proper sleep at least 7-8 hours! Take care of yourself and keep yourself hydrated! This group zodiac signs is earth signs and fire signs especially virgo energy and sagittarus!

That's all pile 2, you guys need to beeeelieve in yourself! You got this!

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - knight of cups, page of cups, and the queen of wands)

Okay so the very first thing i sense from this group is you are emotional too emotional and sometimes you let it affect your decisions (not a bad things) but sometimes, when someone step all over you, you need to show who you are! LIKE A BAD ASS PERSON, hehe, Don't let anyone make you think otherwise and look down on you, I feel this group might have had a friend breakup perhaps? which changed you, random. anyways! Let's start, I feel you guys can love yourself more by travelling, by going on random places, even if its close to your place, it might give you a sort of joy, many of you could be here a sort of beach person, or have water signs, Scorpio, cancer, and Pisces, I also feel you need to let your creativity flow, some of you could be quite artistic here, like very creative or might have sort of nice voice? embrace that. I do feel you have it all but at time when you lose it don't let your emotions guide you, but think from rationality or logical side, it will do you good, I also feel, very random but i think or feel some of you here likes to bake?? anyhow! I feel you can love yourself by journaling, meditating, to clam yourself, by spending time with loved ones, I also feel once you start being more confident and love the way you're, accept yourself, work on your flaws it would be you entering your divine era of power, I also got the message, "that you guys are doing great in your life", even if you think you're not i see you guys thriving. You guys can love yourself by a spa session or a cool bath like do what you gotta do baby!, I also feel you should spend time with animals care for them, it will be beneficial for you!

That's all pile 3! You just need to see yourself that you're the most beautiful and amazing person <3, keep going babies~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[silhouetteonpaper]

Thanksgiving

Summary: It was your first Thanksgiving with Natasha. Actually, it was your first Thanksgiving ever. And to make matters worse, you were meeting her parents for the first time. Would this be the best or the worst first Thanksgiving ever? Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Alexei, Melina, and Yelena appearances) WC: 3,019 Warnings/Themes: Fluff, slight angst, mentions of kidnapping and experimenting, drinking alcohol A/N: Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you enjoy this special fic <3

Thanksgiving was right around the corner, or at least thats what Natasha was saying. She was eager to see her family after so long, and share a classic American meal on the lovely holiday. You hadn’t met any of her family, but you’d heard so much about them. Melina, her headstrong mother, Alexei, her stubborn Father, and Yelena, her hilarious sister. The way she talked about them always reflected a little piece of Natasha herself, you were almost shocked to hear they weren’t her biological family.

But that didn’t matter, not to her. They were the only family she knew, and she was looking forward to celebrating yet another holiday season with them. And this time, with you. You wished you had any sort of family; a mother who could've taught you how to sort your laundry, or even an uncle who could tell jokes that would’ve made you laugh. But you knew of none, especially after the tragedy that occurred when you were small.

Entire buildings blown up, your childhood apartment shattered into a million pieces you never realized wouldn’t be reconstructed. Sly faces swooping in to your rescue, their evil plans hidden from an unsuspecting toddler. Their intentions didn’t matter, as there was no one to protect you anymore. Your parents likely passed in the bombing, but all the details were so hazy. Sometimes you wondered if it was all fabricated after spending years in captivity. Maybe you needed a reason to think your parents didn’t give you up, that they didn’t do it by choice.

“Have you ever celebrated Thanksgiving?” Natasha asked from the next room over. Right, thanksgiving was tomorrow. You weren’t back in the destroyed building, or being taken to the next facility for experimentation. You were safe with Natasha.

You hadn’t celebrated Thanksgiving before, and the idea sounded a little too perfect to you. Sitting with those you loved most to relay all that you’re thankful for? That was the kind of stuff you could only dream of. In a perfect life, you’d actually have more to be thankful for. “No.” You responded from your spot on the couch. Natasha had described the food, from homemade stuffing to a perfectly cooked turkey. It sounded delicious, but that wasn’t what you were worried about.

Her family was daunting. Not because they were bad people, but because they were nice. What if they thought you were a bad influence? What if they disagreed with Natasha’s choice to be in a relationship with such a broken soul? You’d only been with her for a year, leaving you to constantly question the foundation of your relationship often.

The Avengers had saved you from the facility after hearing word of all the children captive. But you weren’t a child when they found you, more a brainwashed adult stuck in the system due to being raised there. Advanced in not only combat, but also the interworking of the large corporation, the entire team decided to take you in as their own. Your knowledge of the company helped them take it down once and for all, a huge feat that would prevent more children from being taken from their families.

You were scared at first, in the large compound with all these superheroes. They had so much experience doing good, and you could barely remember the last time you held the door for someone. It took a lot of time to deprogram your mind, all the years of negatives pounded into you like they were the truth. Being told you were worthless, only a weapon to be used on the facility’s whim. That you weren’t allowed to feel, because that would be weak.

Throughout the entire process, Natasha was the one who stayed by your side. She had expressed a time when she went through something similar, which was partially why she felt inclined to help you so much. But after you two got to know each other as people and not as weapons of mass destruction, you saw just how much you had in common. It was only a few months later you two were official, and the entire team was in support of it.

Your progress was coming along nicely, and there was even the chance to join a few missions. Being a superhero was like a dream come true; you were given a second chance after all that happened, your life was truly beginning. But as cities across the world became safer and safer, the Avengers were called upon less and less. The team decided there wasn’t a huge need for a structured, ready-to-pounce battalion. You could all go your separate ways if you so pleased. Natasha felt ready to leave the compound, and you agreed that would be best. The idea of living alone with her was desirable, and after you became comfortable with the life you were living it was finally time to make that change.

But you hadn’t realized just how different a normal life would be. The apartment Natasha purchased was perfect. Two bedrooms—one converted into an office for all of the leftover Avengers gear—the perfect place for you both to start a life. That didn’t just mean living alongside Natasha, it meant picking out couches and bed frames and even kitchen towels. You were starting to question if it was truly the dream life, sitting in front of a computer all day and adding things to your cart.

The online shopping was the easiest bit; being so close to Natasha was the hardest. You couldn’t hide in your own room anymore, not like at the compound. You couldn’t go sit on the roof and watch the stars when you felt the need to run away, because Natasha would easily be able to find you. She had picked up on those certain habits at the compound eventually, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to have the space. In the small apartment, it grew harder to take that distance for yourself when you needed it most.

Natasha was extremely understanding, though, and was more than willing to go out for the evening so you could have some alone time. Eventually, you both got into a rhythm that allowed for the perfect amount of time together and apart.

You quickly learned about holidays, and what ones Natasha celebrated. Easter wasn’t really her thing, but you all were invited to Tony’s easter party where he set up an egg hunt for everyone—including his daughter. Fourth of July was fun; Natasha took you to a park where you sat and watched the fireworks late at night. And now, you were hearing just how great thanksgiving would be.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you.” Natasha walked out into the kitchen, her soft voice bringing you back to the present. It was so easy to get caught up in the past, but she was always there to ground you.

“What gave it away?” You smiled, standing to meet her in the kitchen. She was prepping a raspberry chocolate cake, apparently one she makes every year. You hugged her from behind, wrapping your arms around her waist as she began to stir a few ingredients together. She lightly pressed kiss to your forehead.

“I promise, they will love you. If they don’t want you to move in with them by the end of the night, I’ll be surprised.” Natasha laughed, your worried expression falling. They were kind people, they’ll be understanding of who you are. After all, their own daughter did go through something similar. For now, you just needed to try and relax before the big introduction tomorrow. And luckily, helping Natasha bake would surely make your anxieties lessen.

—————

The car rolled along the rough road, bumping over each rock and dip as Natasha drove further into the secluded neighborhood. Only a few houses were dotted around, leaving the area quiet and peaceful as you watched from the passenger-side window. Maybe you were exuding nervous energy, because Nat’s hand quickly rested on your leg as she slowed in front of the charming house.

“Remember, you are perfect. You don’t need to act a certain way to please them, they’ll love you for you.” She spoke while putting the car in park. You nodded, eyeing the home before you. It wasn’t anything large, but it had an inviting feeling. The paneled exterior was accented with deep woods, and of course lots of plants. You were almost jealous you didn’t live in a house like this.

Natasha grabbed the cake from the backseat as you slowly shut the passenger door. In your reluctant state, you let her lead to the front door of the house. Before she could even knock, the door swung open.

“Natasha!” Melina—you assumed—jumped out onto the front porch with open arms. She wasted no time admiring the cake, asking Nat a million questions before the redhead could even say hello herself.

“And who is this?” Alexei, a gruff man with a large smile asked with his eyes pointed toward you. Swallowing thickly, you introduced yourself and held out a hand to shake. He didn’t accept it, and rather pulled you into the tightest hug you’d ever felt. “So good to have you here. Natasha has told us all about you.” All about you? Did they all know about your troubled past?

There was no time to dwell on the details as Melina practically shoved you inside. “Let me take your jacket, here,” Her hands made quick work of pulling off your coat, nearly distracting you from the blonde bounding down the stairs.

“Sestra!” She exclaimed, her accent making you smile as it matched Melina’s and Alexei’s. Yelena, Natasha’s sister you’d heard so much about. After she hugged her sibling, her eyes turned to you. “I see why Natasha took such a liking to you.”

“Hey!” Nat interjected, hitting Yelena playfully. The two tussled, leaving you to take in the interior of the cozy house. There was a fireplace lit in the living room, worn couches telling stories of the many people who relaxed on their woven threads. A wooden dining table, etched with fork and knife marks from all the times someone slammed their fists down in anger. And the kitchen, where Melina was displaying the chocolate cake on a stand amidst the field of other Thanksgiving dishes.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Here, let me get you a glass. You must be starving—“ You didn’t have any time to answer, as Melina was already pouring you a glass of wine.

“Thanks.” You breathed as she handed it to you.

“Don’t suffocate her.” Natasha smiled, wrapping an arm around you as she watched her mom smother. Although overwhelming, something about it made you smile too.

“Yeah, Natasha already does that enough.” Yelena chimed in, earning yet another punch to the arm from her sister. The playful banter between family members was something you could definitely get used to. Watching as Natasha quipped back and forth with Yelena made you wish you had a sibling of your own, but you knew Nat was more than willing to share.

Melina was flitting about the kitchen, tending to various different dishes before she even realized you were all still standing. You didn’t mind though, as Alexei was already regaling everyone on his last adventure out West. “Oh, everyone, please sit!” She gestured to the set table, complete with flowers freshly picked from the garden.

Natasha sat beside you on one side of the table, Alexei taking the head, and Yelena sitting opposite you. The blonde wasted no time pouring herself a glass of clear liquid. Vodka; although the label was in Russian, it was easy to tell what mysterious liquid sat in side. She downed the glass in seconds, making your eyes widen. Speaking of Russian, you noticed just how much of the house was filled with culture from the other side of the ocean. Books reading in different languages, foods you had yet to try being prepared on the counter, and Natasha’s stories of her home country she used to tell you in passing. The pieces of all these people’s pasts were collected, built into a new form all within the walls of the house.

You wished your apartment was the same; shelves full of tales from your country of origin, recipes passed down from generations you could cook as you pleased—but unfortunately, you had no idea where you came from. “Dinner is served!” Melina called out, lifting a large turkey onto the table.

Everyone dug in as Melina brought more and more food to the table. Eventually, she sat down and joined in the fun, everyone reaching to grab spoonfuls of mouth-watering dishes for their plates. You quickly followed, taking anything that looked enticing… which was pretty much everything.

“So, tell us about yourself. You like to Avenge, eh?” Alexei questioned while bitting into a forkful of food. You chuckled, nodding.

“I do, but the team's on a hiatus for now. Seems the world isn’t in much need of saving these days.” You glanced at Natasha, who smiled. Knowing the world was safe without the Avengers was relieving for the both of you.

Alexei, on the other hand, slapped his fist on the table. “There is always work to be done, ah! No aliens invading town these days?” You weren’t sure if he was asking or just talking to himself, so you shrugged.

“Luckily it’s been pretty calm. We’re always on call if anything happens, though.” You respond. 

Melina was beaming, her eyes glued to you as she took a sip of her wine. “And how did you join the team? Any superpowers we should know about before you blast a hole into these walls?” She laughs. You don’t match her joking tone, instead looking at Natasha once more. She hadn’t told them how you came to be an Avenger. Was that a conversation you should be starting so soon?

You knew this family had been through hell and back, so maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to tell them. Still, you treaded lightly. “Well, the Avengers rescued me from a facility a little while back.” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I was trained in combat there, so they thought I could be an asset to the team.”

Yelena nearly interrupted, her voice flowing with curiosity. “Was it like the Red Room? Wait, Nat, you didn’t tell me she was rescued from a place like the Red Room!” Natasha shot her a glare, leaving Yelena to hold up her hands and hide back behind her meal. You swallowed, taking another breath. A part of you was entertained by Yelena’s curiosity; no one cared that you were a different person before the Avengers, it just seemed they were glad you were here now.

“Uh, kinda of,” You tilted your head. “A similar organization, I guess. Anyways, Natasha helped me get back on my feet, and the rest is history.” You turned to smile at Nat, who of course was already smiling at you.

The rest of the evening went surprisingly well. No one pressed about your past any further, they were mostly interested in your present. Things you liked to do, dates Natasha had taken you on, and any empty space was filled with another one of Alexei’s stories. You learned a lot about Nat and her family, too. How Yelena had a dog back at home, and how Melina had pet pigs. It was an eclectic group of people you were grateful to be beside.

Grateful. Maybe you did have a lot to be grateful for after all. Natasha, her welcoming family, a wonderful life with people you loved. Just over a year ago that all seemed like an unobtainable dream, but today you were living it.

As Melina prepared take-home plates for you and Natasha, you both started to say your goodbyes. “Come by anytime, with or without Natasha.” Alexei hugged you again, nearly squeezing out all the food you just ate.

“You have to come back for Christmas!” Yelena exclaimed, giving you a side-hug. You nodded, looking forward to yet another holiday with the bunch.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? It’s so dark out.” Melina asked for the fifth time as she handed her daughter the plate of leftovers.

Natasha chuckled, hugging her mother. “We’re sure. I’ll see you soon.” And just like that, you two were leaving with plates stacked full of food and hearts full of love. But there was something beneath all the warmth that enveloped you, something tugging at you that was impossible to ignore.

As Nat pulled the car out of the driveway, you couldn’t help but burst into tears. She was taken by surprise, but immediately pulled over onto the dirt. The unknown emotion was bubbling out of you, each sob releasing something you didn’t realize you were holding. Natasha didn’t rush you, she didn’t question it. She just placed her hand on your thigh, moving it up and down until you were ready to talk.

“I want to have a home like that.” You suddenly spoke, damp eyes looking straight into Natasha’s with desire. Not necessarily a desire for her, but for the life you could have with her.

“What, loud and cluttered? Sure, if that’s what you want.” She joked, well aware her parent's house was filled to the brim with random collections and strewn relics.

“No,” You interjected, serious tone unwavering. “I want to fill our home with our lives. Books that explain our past, belongings passed down from family and friends, furniture collected from our travels. Proof that people with a story to tell live within its walls.” Your words leave Natasha speechless, the hand on your thigh suddenly stopping its movement. She never considered that you two didn’t have many belongings to begin with. She never realized that many homes had a meaning behind each decoration, each embellishment. And in that moment, she completely understood your desire.

“Then let’s create that story together.” Natasha’s lips found yours, and suddenly, you weren’t worried anymore.

[asexual-tree-man]

The audience is something for your editor or agent to worry about, if you have one! It’s almost completely a marketing thing. I run a school arts magazine and it is taken on its face that this version is the one the author wants — we may ask them about things (spelling errors, common word mix-ups where we think they meant another but still absolutely must check) or may need to discuss adding an addendum where some technical knowledge may be required for the audience to understand a text. Me and my coeditor have a lot more general knowledge in overall academic topics than like 2/3 of the staff so we tend to know what more niche works are referencing, and one of our advisors is really good with identifying poetry formats, but we’ve had a few conversations recently that some people will not understand a specific work and that is okay! They do not need to! Last year we had a poem comparing sodium and butter, and it confused my at-the-time coeditor and both of our advisors, but I knew what it was talking about and so did my current coeditor. People who don’t know how soft elemental sodium is or don’t know how it burns aren’t going to get it, and that’s okay; the people who did understand really really liked it. We recently had a work come in that was a sort of transcript of a radio show with some specific narrative and design choices that a few people didn’t quite get, but everyone in the room who listened to radio shows knew exactly what it meant and how it was intended by the author. It doesn’t matter! No matter what you do, someone is not going to understand it, and that’s okay! Someone will understand, and even if nobody but you does, that does not stop it from being good art. It does not stop it from being art. Work for yourself, it comes out better in the end and you’ll enjoy it more.

fuck an "intended audience" how about we normalize engaging with new and unfamiliar art pieces on their own terms

[messenger-of-babel]

If I Could Turn Back Time

Summary: Dick wishes he could turn back time, anything to win you back. (Dick Grayson x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: I'm baaacck~! I'm gonna filter out some posts for y'all in between work and prepping for a Christmas countdown. I hope that y'all in the northern hemisphere are enjoying the winter months, and that the heat is manageable for the rest of us in the southern. Hope I didn't make anyone wait too long, and thank you for being patient!

~RiRi <33

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Dick Grayson swore that he wasn't as big of a romantic as people made him out to be. After your breakup he had returned to the manor, unwilling to commit to the long drive back to Bludhaven. He milled around the kitchen, face sullen, telling a concerned Alfred he was just too tired to make the trip and didn't want to drive in the dark. He didn't tell him that he was worried that the image of you crying at the kitchen sink would distract him so badly that he'd either crash or turn back to see you.

He defended himself when Jason came by to drop something off for Bruce and catching the eldest in a state of disarray and blatant bedhead, shambling around in the living room. The younger man rolled his eyes and scoffed, striding past him.

"She break up with you?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"I broke up with her." He said softly. "But I'm fine." he waved off, taking another sip of his coffee.

"You're an idiot." Jason sighed, kissing his teeth and shaking his head as he strode past in heavy footfalls.

He swore that he was able to move on. That it had been for your best interest. It had only been fourteen days, six hours and twenty-three minutes since he'd driven away. Now he was banging his head against the steering wheel, stuck in the late afternoon traffic between Bludhaven and Gotham. He had the persistent itch under his skin to pull out the suit, weave his way through traffic on his bike just so he could get back to you faster. But he knew that was an abuse of his identity, and could raise some pretty heavy eyebrows from Bruce and even Clark if they found out he took the suit just for a house call.

So, he sat there, stewing in his own thoughts. The late sunset flickered off the water and into the interior of his car. His bangs fluttered with a heavy exhale; hands sweaty as they tapped a mindless rhythm on the wheel. He wished he had a clock that wasn't just the digital numbers of the car display. A clock where he could turn back time.

He'd turn it back to your first date, where you both spent hours wandering the park in Gotham. You had dressed up nicely for a picnic, and it was like you had just walked out of the greenery. The only thought that Dick had while watching you that afternoon was how stunning you looked, so natural in the park with a beaming smile. He had seen Poison Ivy in all of her glory, and her deep connection with the green. If he didn't know better, he would have thought you were born of nature the same way, the way you seemed so in tune with the scenery.

You had surprised him by adjusting your clothes with a cheeky grin and racing hand and hand with him through the park, weaving in and out of the trees with a beaming smile. He had to catch his breath from the way you stole it from under him, taking him to what you had dubbed your 'favourite tree'.

"Why is this one your favourite?" he had asked, hands on his hips and eyebrows quirked. You cast him a glance over your shoulder, looking at him like it should be obvious. Fingers deftly pried your feet from your shoes and you tossed them aside, walking in front of him. "Because it's the best for climbing, of course." you chided, like he was silly for even asking. Swiftly, you proceeded to hoist your way into the low hanging branches, graceful as you traced a path you clearly knew. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander, heart warming oddly. As if he was no longer in control, he reached down to undo his own shoes, hands running along the rough bark before pulling himself up after you.

Being a vigilante and circus performer, the movements themselves were easy enough, but despite all of his training he didn't even move with a fraction of your ease. When he caught up you were already nestled in a nook, leaning against a thick branch. You looked at him, late sunset beginning to flicker across the angle of your face. The golden light made your eyes glow, and you wore a soft, lazy smile, like a cat lounging on a bough. "Made it, I see." you hummed playfully, and he huffed.

"Was I not supposed to?" he quipped back, pulling himself up so he could sit next to you. You just shake your head, eyes closing with a gentle smile. "Not 'not supposed to', you've just been the first to follow. Normally my dates either just wait at the bottom or leave. No one really tries to come up, and the ones that do usually struggle to make it this far."

Dick shrugged, heart fluttering as he pushes his hair back with a hand. "Well, I'm used to this kind of the thing."

You give him a sceptical glance and he laughs. "The circus." He explains.

You grin. "Explains the runaway vibe."

"Hey!" he protests, hand to his heart. "I was raised there, thank you very much."

He spent so long up there he didn't realise you had been talking at the top of the tree for hours until the sunset began to filter into dusk, lost in the view of Gotham city park and its skyline.

Well, you might have been. He was too busy watching the way your mouth moved when you spoke or what actions your hands made when you spoke.

The second place that he would turn back time is the day he left you.

He'd take back every emotional scar he lashed you with, every word that cut into the soft flesh of your heart. He'd go back in an instant to pick up the pieces of you that he shattered, stop them from falling into the sink alongside your tears. He wouldn't have left the moment that your broken voice had asked him to leave, to give you space. He'd trade anything to have you in his arms again, to shush you and mumble his apologies into your hair.

The same apologies he was rehearsing to himself as he inched forward in the traffic for two painstaking hours. He practiced the cadence of his sentences by tapping them into his leg as he jogged up the stairs to your apartment. He steeled himself for a slap, a hiss, a scathing remark that would likely greet him when, no, if, you opened the door to him. He'd bear anything you threw at him, as long as he didn't have to see you cry. When you didn't respond to his knuckles rapping against the door, he sucked his teeth. Maybe you were out? Maybe you were ignoring him? He wouldn't blame you if you did.

Frustrated, he kicked the door frame, head thudding onto the door. He didn't know how to keep a relationship alive, if he was being perfectly honest. He had been enamoured with Kory, but the flame they had fizzled out. He and Babs had ended as natural as you could manage between coworkers. Yet, both of them had both ended the same way deep down. The anger that he failed to let go of deep inside that came out when he truly let himself be vulnerable. The little boy in his heart with his little fists clenched so tightly onto that ball of rage. The anger and hurt of losing his parents. It was a ball that Bruce and Alfred had managed to lessen, managed to pry those young fingers off little by little and helping him to redirect it, but it was never fully gone.

All it took was one relationship argument that carried on for a little too long or burned a little too hot, and that little ball moved into his throat. The fear would shake in his hands again, that there was always the possibility that he'd lose them too. Dick Grayson wouldn't really call himself a romantic. He was just someone who always fell in love, who made the person he was with always fall into him without a safety net.

Then, he'd push them off that tightrope, and he'd flee.

Irritated with himself he practiced breathing techniques to calm himself, unclenching his fists and unhunching his shoulders from his ears. He wanted to fix this. For you. For him. For that little boy holding onto that little ball of hurt. He waited another fifteen minutes before he jogged back to his car. He worried his lip in between his teeth as he cruised around, leg bouncing as he visited your favourite spots. You weren't at work, and you weren't visiting the library either. Your favourite bar wasn't open yet, and your favourite cafe had already closed for the day.

He felt stupid. He felt guilty. Stupid for leaving, and guilty for chasing you so pitifully. His behaviour was getting borderline obsessive, but he couldn't help himself. He felt like he was going to go insane if he didn't get the chance to even talk to you again. With an angry sigh he threw the car into park, breaking loudly. He slammed the car door a little harder than he would have liked.

Gotham City Park.

A part of him hoped that you weren't here, honestly. It was dark, and everyone knew Gotham was worse after hours. You were alone, presumably unarmed, and a complete fool if you were. His feet traced the path that he knew so well, but it felt weird without having your weight looped around his arm. Hands shoved deep into pockets he fiddled with the lining, chewing his cheek till he got to your tree.

The massive boughs stretched before him, blocking most of the city light. However, he knew that as soon as he got up there, he'd be able to see almost everything. With a pained exhale Dick ran his fingers over the smooth bark before reaching up for the nearest branch and hoisting himself up. Even if you weren't here, he needed somewhere to gather his thoughts. Somewhere to figure out how to fix his fuck up.

He navigated clumsily upwards, the dark making it hard to see. He hadn't realised how naturally his body followed yours when you climbed up, now getting lost by himself. Branches smacked him in the face as he ascended, dense foliage hiding his next foothold from him. Eventually his head poked through the entrance, and he took a deep lungful of crisp air, eyes closing.

"You looked like an idiot climbing around in circles down there, you know."

His eyes fly open, heart catching as he sees you. You're still in your work uniform, knees to your chest. Your eyes are dull despite the starlight. Dick revered your eyes, telling you many times that you could make even a stone glimmer if you gave it a fraction of your light. Now they were like a dying bulb, burnt out and dim.

"Hey," he said softly, as if you'd disappear if he raised his voice any louder. "I was looking for you."

"Well, you found me." You say, shifting your eyes from him to the city. "What do you want?"

His throat closed up, burning. He could feel that bright little ball being shoved into his throat, and he had to grimace to push it back down.

He needed to do this.

"I'm here to apologise." he said quietly, pulling himself up and sitting a respectable distance from you. His fingers suddenly became interesting as he toyed with them, picking at the skin. "I don't expect you to take me back or anything, but I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." he chokes out, looking up at you. "I was- I was scared. I was scared someone was going to take you away from me, that it wasn't worth it. But I was wrong. I'm sorry-" he swallowed harshly as your eyes met his, and the softening at the corners of yours made him want to fold. "I'm sorry for everything I said, for everything I did. You didn’t deserve that; you deserve something better."

"Dick-"

he held up his hand. "You deserve the world, sweetheart." he said, choked at the softness and pain in his own voice. "If I was Superman, I would fly to your window every morning and take you into the clouds just so you could experience what it's like for a heart to fly, like you make mine do. I'd go across the ends of the earth to find the sun after the sunset just to realise it can't be brighter than the smile that you give me in the morning. So, I came to tell you that I made a mistake." he says, quiet and unable to hold your gaze any longer. "I made the biggest mistake of my life. I want another chance." he takes a deep breath, nose burning as he tried to hold back his tears. "And if you don't want me back, I want you to know you deserve all that. Even if it's not me, never settle for anyone that will give you less than that." His voice cracked as he finished, and he swallowed.

He needed to leave. He had done his piece.

The shame swirled in his veins like a cloud and hurrying him to find his way down. His senses were dulled like he was struck with a concussion, thoughts echoing like they were in a tunnel. It was only when he felt the soft skin of your palm on his that his head snapped up. The moment his face was tilted up the light was blocked, and his face was warm.

It took him a good second to recognise the familiar feeling.

You were kissing him.

With a relieved sigh he let out a sigh straight from his chest, chasing after your touch desperately. He thought he may have been in a dream, but when he reached up to cradle your face with a palm, he knew that it wasn't true.

"You idiot." you breathe out, eyes fluttering as you part from the kiss. "You grade A, boy wonder, spandex clad idiot." your rest your forehead against his. "Tell me next time." your murmur, hand coming down to grip his and place it on your chest. “You’re not alone anymore, you know?"

A faint flicker of a smile danced its way across his lips, and his shoulders shook lightly as he laughed at himself. He leant up and brushed his lips against yours once more and finally, that little ball of rage fell through the fingers of that hurt young boy.

[dalishious]

(I can’t believe I finished this so fast… I basically blacked out and then it was done lol… Anyway, please remember that this is all just my personal opinion, and if you feel differently, that’s fine!)

Dragon Age: The Veilguard Review

Objectively speaking, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is a fun game that the average player is going to enjoy, especially if that average player is coming in without any prior knowledge to the Dragon Age franchise. I believe this is a good jumping-in spot for people who are curious about the world of Thedas. But in contrast, I have seen a lot of criticism from other hard-core fans that I largely agree with. However, it just so happens that most of the criticism I have is not enough to prevent me from overall enjoying the game. That is to say, for pretty much everything I did not like, there was also something I thought was great… Unfortunately, that makes it a little difficult to give a review. So, I’m going to do my best to keep things as clear and concise as possible by splitting up the “good” and the “bad” aspects of DATV.

The Positive

The best thing to come out of DATV is the new cast of characters that make up your companions and supporting associates. While I do think that some of them could have benefitted from more development time to flesh things out further, just judging what we ended up with, is mostly great. I especially found Emmrich and Bellara to be stand-out examples of strong personalities to grasp onto, whose personal stories really touched me in an emotional way.

DATV also has fun with some returning characters. For example, now that Solas is no longer hiding his identity, we get to see a character that both believably honours his part in Inquisition, while also providing a new, refreshing side to him. There are also a number of characters introduced in Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights that appear in the game, like my personal favourites Teia and Viago, who are an absolute delight to interact with!

I think the three act structure is good, albeit with act three being quite short. There are a few sequences that are an absolutely phenomenal mixture of storytelling and engaging gameplay, like all of Weisshaupt! I also really enjoyed stepping out of the main story every once and a while, and into Solas’s backstory through the Crossroads memories – what ended up being extra special about these is how they mirror Rook’s struggle so well, by the end. They are a nice touch.

The locations are beautifully constructed with smooth interactions of climbing, zip-lining, and essentially parkouring your way around, making them fun to explore! They also came with such distinct flavours and character in themselves that influenced a sense of truly experiencing different parts of Thedas, with different cultures.

The mechanic of building up strength with the different factions, and that actually having a huge impact with the ultimate showdown in the end of the game, makes side quests feel far less inconsequential than in Dragon Age: Inquisition by comparison. That, and they number far less.

I like that the story mode actually feels like a story mode; there were only a couple instances where I really had to worry about death, and even then, I was able to just toggle off the death with the customizable gameplay mechanics and continue on.

Finally, it would be remiss not to say that the character creator for DATV is the best BioWare has ever put out. I’d go as far as saying it’s one of the best in any RPG I’ve ever personally experienced. From the flexibility in morphing a character’s head and body between custom shapes, to the little details like sclera colour, vitiligo, and top surgery scars, makes it a shining example of what RPG’s should strive for. (My only critique here is that it would have been nice to have more skin colours.)

The Neutral

I hated the combat for pretty much the entire first act of the game. I found it too hard to keep up with, and too much like Mass Effect bullshit. I can’t say that it’s completely grown on me yet, but I don’t hate it anymore. It’s fine. So, I’m giving this a special little spot before I get into what I didn’t like all the way to the end.

The Negative

As mentioned above, I do think that there is more that could be done with some of the characters to really achieve their full potential. Davrin and Lucanis—while to be clear I still really enjoy as they are—come to mind first, in terms of those who would have benefited from more development time. Most of Davrin’s screen time just revolves around Assan rather than Davrin himself, and Lucanis is so restrained that it takes a while to really crack him open. Both of these characters have intentional personalities that make them harder to get to know, I understand that, but I feel that it would have been all the more rewarding to have more time dedicated to their company after earning their trust and possibly endearment. Instead, it feels like their romance and friendship with Rook are only half-complete, and then rushed to finish.

There are some companion interactions that are just… cringe. There is no other word for it. Now, this is nothing new for BioWare games, but I feel like the “pulling a Bharv” scene for example, was hitting an entirely new low. (If someone misgendered me and then just started doing push-ups instead of just saying “hey sorry about that, I’ll try to do better” I’d be annoyed, not satisfied.) I also felt like most of the temporary rivalries between companions were artificial in nature, rather than organically part of their characters that actually served a purpose. We already knew Emmrich likes books and Harding likes nature; we did not need a whole cutscene with them bickering about camping. (The exception to this is Davrin and Lucanis, who genuinely had room to grow as people out of their multiple confrontations, not just a one-off scene.)

The music in DATV is, for the most part, forgettable and bland. There is one piece that really stands out, and that’s “Where the Dead Must Go”, which is a real banger. I am not a fan of Hans Zimmer’s OST otherwise; I think it is phoned in, just like most of his work. I deeply wish BioWare would have just stuck with Trevor Morris. The best parts musically in this game are just Morris’s work re-used from Dragon Age: Inquisition.

There are certain parts of disjointedness that separates DATV from the past games that are just… bizarre. This is especially the case when it comes to elven lore. For example, Bellara saying she is afraid that elves will be harshly judged for the Evanrus, or Harding saying that elves are “thriving”… as if modern elves are not deeply persecuted across most of Thedas. It made me question more than once if there just was not time in development to do a proper canon-compliancy check with everything, perhaps?

I want finish this part by bringing up again that the biggest flaw in DATV is that it feels very corporate. To repeat what I said in this post: It is as if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance, in an overcorrection to be “safe”. But now that the edges have been so smoothed down to make a block into a ball, it can no longer support anything.

Conclusion

It’s easy to see a lot of creativity went into the creation of this game… but it is also easy to make assumptions on how that creativity was constrained by development hell and corporate oversight. In the end though, Dragon Age: The Veilguard succeeded in being an overall good time, one that I will no doubt be putting just as many countless hours into as the previous installments in the franchise. 7/10.

[lucehe]

Omg this looks cool let's goooo

Yuki

1) Animal Crossing music

2) Grim! Simba and Gino too! :D

3) Yuno is like a dad to her, even she sometimes feels guilty because she still loves her biological mom and dad even they did something wrong before

Yuki is also somehow close to Malleus, she can tell he is happy to be with her, even a lot of people seems to be scared of him a little, she can feel he seems a little.... lonely, she doesn't know why, but she will be nice to Mr. Horns

4) She is scared of being watched by a lot of people

5) Yuki likes to make potions, so alchemy (Don't worry Yuno will keep her safe and guides her)

6) History (she falls asleep sometimes)

7) No club! She needs to nap after classes, but sometimes she will let Yuno takes her to visit different clubs to play

8) Rook, she is kinda scared of him (but not she dislikes it's just Rook is like the uncle who always scares you when you are still small)

9) Mr. Trein! He got a cat too, and he sometimes will bring cute dresses to Yuki. He is also patient and nice to her, not minding that Yuki slept in his class (she make him reminded his daughters)

10) Pomefiore! She really respects Vil and wants to be as pretty as him, he is like a queen to her

11) Gino (even he is the taller and older one, Yuki will protect him!)

12) Stitch, she loves that blue alien, and that's the first time she goes to the beach

13) She will call her dad or Grim to help her, and Yuno will just spawned /hj

She can't really fight with anyone, so she will run if someone wants to fight or hurt her

14) She doesn't really take tests since she is too young, but she got A on the small test Yuno gave her (ABC, some vocabs, and simple math problems)

15) She used to be a little lack of confidence since she got freckles on her face, but she slowly got more comfortable, because noone will talk about how different she is

She isn't really scared of Rook that much anymore after Rook shows his freckles to her, and told her she is still beautiful with it

16) It's scary because many people are watching them, but it's cool because she got a new cat and the mirror can talk

17) They look like floating marshmallows

18) Everyone is older, which made Yuki feels anxious first, but she got used to it slowly, she feels more comfortable when she became friends with Simba and Geno

Also a new environment did make Yuki a little nervous too, but she is also excited about having a new life in magic world

19) She trusts Crowley

20) Chapter 7, she will grow a lot, however, on different chapters, she will learn a little from experiences, and slowly changing herself

Yuno

1) Headlock - by Imogen Heap

2) Grim, Ace, Deuce

3) He wants to make sure Yuki grow up healthy and safe, even she isn't related to him. He doesn't know what gives him the will to help her, maybe it's just responsibility or sympathy. No matter what it is, he will try his best

4) He hates medicines that taste bitter

5) History

6) None

7) No clubs, as a prefect in NRC, he often will work for Crowley, assist the other staffs, arrange the events and guides the guests when they visit the academy. Sometimes he will spend time with Yuki to visit different clubs, which he can let Yuki try different activities to let her discover her interest, while also check how every clubs are doing

8) Yuno is neutral and friendly most, but sometimes he is cautious towards dorm leaders who overblot since these people had cause harm to the others, which nearly made them criminals if something worse happened. He feels odd how Crowley handed the results. Maybe it's just how this world is.

9) Trein, he is a good father, and sometimes he gives Yuno advises about taking care of kids and cats, it worked a lot. Yuno respects him.

10) Savanaclaw, it seems to have a lot of freedom, and the training is alright to him. Besides, Yuki loves the animal people there too

11) Ace and Deuce, they are still young, but they did bring a lot of fun to Yuno, he enjoys their company, it's something he hadn't felt for a long time before getting here

12) Beanfest, even rook is weird, but they are a good team when it comes with hunting (?)

13) He did want to fight Crowley sometimes

He won't fight with the people in school if there is no reason too, instead of fighting, he prefers suppress when it comes with actually harming Yuki and the others safety

14) A+ the most, even being in the magical world, he somehow managed to learn things quickly

15) He is terrible on singing

16) Is this H@rry Pøtter

17) They looked more friendly then he imagined (reference: Japanese ghosts stories and urban legends)

18) Everything is different from the original world, meaning they have no connection here and needs to start everything over, learning the rules here, and stay cautious most of the time

Gladly they had a home now, and most people here are friendly

19) Yuno remained neutral, but he did thank Crowley from giving them a place to stay and paying money to him for working in NRC

20) Chapter 5, he saw how much everyone grow up after seeing them shine on stage (especially Deuce)

He will also have a development after chapter 7

That's it! :D

Twisted Wonderland OC Questions:

Do you have a song that represents your OC, if so why?

Who is your OC’s closest platonic friend?

Tell us about a complicated relationship your OC has with another character?

What are your OC’s minor fears?

What is your OCs best class?

What is their worst class?

Why did they join their clubs? 

Is there a character your OC doesn’t like, if so why?

Who is their favorite staff member? Why?

What dorm would your OC be sorted into besides their current one?

Is there a character your OC sees as a sibling?

What is your OC’s favorite event(s), what was their role?

If your OC could physically fight another character, who would it be and would they win?

What are your OC’s grades like?

What is a secret not many characters know about your OC?

How would your OC describe their entrance ceremony from their POV?

What does your OC think of the Ramshackle ghosts?

What is the hardest thing to adjust to at NRC? The magic? Being away from their family? Ect.

Do they trust Crowely?

What chapter does your OC get the most personal character development?

[luminatricky]

Vampire? In Gotham! (part 1)

Summary: Danny's 19, a prince, a halfa, and tired of being these things. So he jumps on the idea of a vacation as soon he's given the hint of a chance. The only caveat is that he's going to go undercover as a vampire in a big city - Gotham - far from his home dimension. He finds it's easier than he thought it would be. He's already mostly there.

Relationships: Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton), John Constantine & Danny Fenton

Um? Inspired by several prompts and other fanfics. Lost Between Our Needs and Wants AU definitely, with a background Danny's summoned by Ra's as Damian as a sacrifice. Nothing bad happens (to Damian) don't worry. Also, the one in which Danny decided to fight ghosts as a human too.

And John is almost definitely ooc, he's a character I enjoy a lot even though I don't have a firm grasp of his canon.

Danny's afterlife has been way too interesting for way too long. It's gotten to the point that when things suddenly go quiet for months, he hardly hesitates to give his "human" life some over-due attention.

For obvious reasons he's not going to try his "vacation" in his own dimension. Anyone he once might have stayed for know how to get a hold of him, whenever and wherever.

The Amity Park portal is still open. But between the stricter laws on ghosts wanting to use permanent portals he managed to get passed, and the increasingly feral ways the townsfolk have begun defending each other with, Danny feels confident to finally...let go. In his heart, he had always thought of it as still his, despite not being there to maintain it in truth. But now it's not his Haunt anymore, fully and completely.

They don't need him anymore.

And Danny doesn't want to be needed like that again, to be honest. He sacrificed so much to play hero because he got it into his head that he had to do everything alone in the end. As if he was the only one who could kick ghost butt on the daily in town.

Thankfully, a nineteen year old Danny is smarter than a fourteen year old Danny. He's learned the art of delegation. Any tasks that he doesn't need to be present for, he has a whole team of ghostly assistants to handle things for him. The major multidimensional crises have for the most part been solved - his protection Obsession at the very least fed. And quite a few skeleton thralls he freed near the beginning of his reign were suddenly looking for direction. Among them, a decent amount found the talent and fulfillment in positions of bureaucratic power that Danny never will, filling up spots he's unwilling to give out like the candy the various ghosts of nobility treat the roles as. Or ghost nobility. Like the Ancients. Quite a few of the Ancients are assholes.

(At least all the murderous Ancients aren't problems anymore)

With all their help, he's able to occasionally pop in to do paperwork, meet with the High Court for various lawmaking and judicial decisions, and listening to official petitions to the Crown from his people. It's all good. No mountains of unseen paperwork, no audience with the Observants every waking moment, no one across the Realms screaming desperately for help. Even some of the cults have finally caught on that he's not Pariah!

So Danny starts the process of finding a new Haunt for his new, normal, alive alter ego. Staying as long as he has in the Realms couldn't have been sustainable long-term if he didn't want to become a full ghost. As complicated as his relationship with his humanity is these days, he still doesn't want to die again. And Frostbite definitely has been pushing him to finding new territory, in the Infinite Realms or otherwise. Because even for full ghosts going Hauntless for long periods is straining. To say the least.

Although, being just a human again...didn't sit right. Even after all this time. His human form is still one Danny Fenton, in his eyes.

He can never be Danny Fenton again. He accepted that his duties as Crown Prince would keep him away from the identity of the ghost hunter's ghost hunting son, who went to Casper high and had terrible grades in everything but science; the kid who was shoved into lockers and who was addicted to Nasty Burger and played DOOMED with his friends and who wanted to be an astronaut. He accepted that he had to leave that all behind, and be full ghost in all but form. His parents wouldn't want him if they knew everything he lied about, anyways. He didn't actually deserve the name Fenton.

His new Haunt would preferably be in a place where he could reasonably pass himself off as another species, then, and still be safe. Safer than being a ghost at least. Most universes had well-deserved folklore against the Realms. His people are not inherently malevolent...But he knows that they don't play nice and careful with the living.

He would need an ectoplasm rich environment, too. A big city with lots of crime would go a long way for providing the ambient death and fear vibes that would attract Blobs like a bee to nectar. It would also make it feel like the Infinite Realms - hopefully. He's gotten accustomed to that kind of environment. He thinks he may never sleep again in a place quiet and safe.

He'd like a place with a rich history too. Just for fun!

Danny mulls it over carefully, narrowing down universes he could reasonably start his search in. The only universe he can think of with extensive protections for the non-human written into law is one far-flung flavor of an Earth he's semi-familiar with. He's been there twice, both at 16, just starting out and stressed to hell and back with the sheer load of unattended problems Pariah left to rot.

Both times he'd been more than he'd have liked. One Ra's Al Ghul wasn't technically his problem. He was no one's problem now, and that was current Danny's whole issue with it.

John Constantine is an unlamented saint for putting up with a feral teenaged Danny's slap dash attempt at helping the both of them - John with his soul related doom, and Danny with his paperwork related misery.

But. Considering how he handled the contract with Al Ghul, Danny can't blame John for hesitating to renegotiate their terms already. Ra's Al Ghul was an idiot who gave him what he thought was the life of his grandson, in exchange for immortality.

Him. The Prince of the Dead. Immortality.

Thankfully, the wording was imprecise. What he actually traded was the kid's really cool sword - the kid kneeling, terrified eyes meeting his before darting away, offering his own sword to let Danny slit his throat and "collect his due sacrifice", Danny not being able to breathe through his own fear - for pure ectoplasm, with instruction to drink it everyday until he ran out.

This of course killed even him months later from over-exposure.

The man probably felt a mile high in the air, indestructible, right up until he crashed. Al Ghul promptly became a ghost. Which. Closest thing to true immortality the Prince of the Dead could offer him. He kept his end of the deal. It's not his fault that Al Ghul never specified that he didn't want to die to be immortal. It's also not his fault that Al Ghul had so many dead enemies and victims on the other side who were easy to find. It was ridiculously easy - they made a support group around being taken down by the LOA. And who was he to deny the dead their due vengeance?

Right. So John is understandably nervous about Danny owning all the pieces of his soul, no matter how much rapport they've built these past three years. Danny is mature enough to admit that it is his fault for that bit.

On the bright side for Danny, that means one grumpy occult detective in a sad trenchcoat is a guy who lives in his phone. Like an uncle-shaped tamagachi!

He scrolls though his contact list until he thumbs John's number. Surprisingly, instead of going to voicemail, he picks up on the first ring.

"Before you ask, yes I'm cashing in a favor, finally. No, it's nothing evil, I've just got the first actual free time I've had in five years and I'd like to get suggestions on a city to move to."

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

John ended up giving a very detailed list in response. Suspiciously detailed, and hardly prompted. How long had John been thinking on this? And why?

Danny chalked it up to the man's reasonable paranoia when it came to him. John's aware he can pretend to be (fully) human with relative ease, afterall. And the older man knows where he'd need to be able to actually live long term. After-live. Whatever. Point is, John probably made it his business to know where any sneaky invasions would start if Danny ever became a little less morally ambiguous and a little more bloodthirsty.

Entirely fair! Pariah wasn't always a tyrant!

On the very top was Gotham, a city in this world's Jersey, and the crime capitol of the States. Plenty of ambient ectoplasm, and planty of charged emotions wafting from every street corner. He doesn't voice this, but Danny figures that there must be a whole community of ghosts already living there because of that double whammy.

Something about the city's name tickles his memory, but can't quite pin it down. If it was important he'd have remembered. Right?

John is thrown when he asks about his options of other non-humans Danny could reasonably get away with impersonating.

"And why," the occultist half-accuses, "would you of all spooks, want to live in Gotham, as a 'vacation', just to not even pretend to be normal?"

"First of all, ow. John you know just because someone is different doesn't mean they're not normal. I thought you were the cool uncle." He responds half-heartedly. Danny bites his bottom lip, rolling it between his sharp teeth as he tries to think of a part two to that answer that wouldn't get uncomfortably personal.

John doesn't rise to his bait. Danny hears him unscrew something metallic, then the sound of fluid swishing quietly from the other end. Ah.

The silence wears on. Danny should hang up. But winging things have always gotten him into bigger trouble. And John is the guy to call for this. Fuck. And he's bad at lying bold-faced.

Fine.

"I'm half human," Danny responds as if that would explain everything. It doesn't, so he manages to continue in a small voice that he doesn't even remember the last time he'd used. "Sometimes I still pretend to be one when I can't see any other way. But I had my chance at playing the part of both. And I royally screwed it up, literally! I became freaking royalty and I just couldn't anymore. As far as anyone but my doctor is concerned, I'm full ghost. I had a chance - I don't deserve another one. Screw ups don't get nice things."

John takes another swig from his flask, mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like 'of course he's a fecking halfa'. His voice is rough around the edges from whatever cheap booze he just drank a concerning amount of.

"Listen. Sounds like you've got trauma dripping from your ears, kid. But what's the point here, huh? Sounds like you want to be human without all the fuss of it." John drawls out.

Danny takes a deep breath in through his nose. He tries to fight down the feeling of being peeled open for the world to see - being afraid isn't helpful right now. He needs to be silly, nonchalant, like he's always been with John in tense situations. Why do they only talk when things are tense, anyways?

"Essentially. It's more like. I want to have all the human experiences I missed out on, but without having to hide being inhuman. That kinda thing."

"And you can't just be a ghost?"

"I really don't think anyone likes being ghosted."

"Don't you start on that. You know what I mean, Princeling."

"Fine. No, I can't be a ghost. That's boring and no one likes being haunted."

John gives a long sigh. After a beat, he acquiesces. "Alright. You could pull off vamps damn well. Got the hair for 'em. The teeth and claws are only slightly off. There's several clans with different looks the same way humans have ethnicities. Although, I don't think that's the same, now that I'm thinking about it. But subspecies doesn't fit either."

Danny hums, tilting his head in thought. "Like the difference between a banshee and a specter?"

"Yeah, like that. All vamps, just different enough, and no kind older than another to say they're the 'main' species." John clarifies. Another pause. "Unless you count Halfas. Which. Some people do but shouldn't. Bloody idiots."

Danny startles, nearly dropping his phone. "Excuse me?"

John snorts. "What? You didn't know?"

"Musta missed that part in the complimentary instruction manual they gave me for having my molecules redecorated." He snarks. "What do you mean I'm already a vampire?"

"I said people who don't know what they're talking about count Halfas as the original vampires. You lot have been around since the bloody dawn of time, it seems." John sounds exasperated.

"That's not what I - never have I ever wanted to take a chomp on anyone's pulse point, what the fuck?"

John gets that smug tone in his voice that Danny has a love-hate relationship with. "And exactly how many undead folks do you hang out with when you're feeling peckish?"

"...you can't be serious." Danny says instead of denying him. What can he even say to that? He's never met a Revenant or Ghoul.

"As the grave, I'm afraid."

When Danny doesn't outwardly respond for too many beats, John takes another chug. "Phantom?"

"John." He begins, pinching the bridge of his nose as more and more dots connect too cleanly for him. "You might be wrong."

"...What awful lore about your eldritch homeland is going to send me into my weekly crisis this time?" The detective groans out.

"Alright. So you know how part of my whole thing as the Prince makes it my job to stay aware of ectoplasmic diseases?"

John hums in acknowledgement, so Danny sucks in a deep breath. "Then you should know two things. One, that I've been to a few dimensions with vampires in them. And like you said, they're all different from each other. I didn't really pay much attention beyond helping the people survive these world-ending scenarios though.

Two, is that in each and every one of those realities, the vampirism was caused by a virus made by an Ancient - don't worry, they're gone. The disease itself is called False Halfa Syndrome. It was their attempt to weaponize Halfas back in Pariah's time."

"Oh shite." John says elegantly. "Bag o' shite!"

"Good luck on that crisis. Me too." Danny is hardly holding in hysterical laughter. "I can't believe Sam and Tucker were right about this. Holy shit."

"How in the world didn't you piece this together until now?!"

"I don't know! I just thought it was coincidence!"

"Bloody fucking hell, Phantom. Nevermind. You can play a vampire totally accurately because you are one. A ghost one." John growls. "Cause that just had to be a thing."

Danny carefully doesn't think about how Vlad might have legitimate claim to that vampiric aesthetic he's got going on. Instead, he's planning on stealing an aesthetic change for his own ruse.

"Nice. Should I know anything else while we're here?" He asks.

John gave a wry laugh, crackling over the phone's shitty old speakers. "About Gotham or your new undead existence?"

"Both." He says instantly. "Both is good."

"Gotham has vigilantes. The birds and bats are efficient, and they spook easy at unknowns. Batman's technically my coworker if we're gonna call the Justice League a job - we don't get paid for this. He and his family deal with the craziest lineup of human rogues I've ever had the displeasure. It's made him a healthy amount of paranoid. If you're doing anything nefarious, he'll find you. And then he'll call me."

Danny isn't exactly afraid of John. But Pariah wasn't afraid of Danny, either, so the halfa takes it seriously. Internally.

"Yeah yeah old man. You've got your eye on me and all that. Uh huh." He genuinely appreciates the warning, too, but messing with John is his bread and butter.

"Watch it, brat," John says with no real venom, unlike a moment ago. "Or I'll bring out the stakes."

"I take mine medium rare, thank you."

"Piss off."

"...About the vampirism?"

"Normal ghost bullshite applies. It's about the ecto, I think. You go absolutely nutters for the stuff in undead folk. Something about how ectoplasm interacts with the reanimated. Liminals are nutritious too, but I've been told it's the difference between cafeteria food and gourmet. One smells absolutely heavenly, the other is barely appetizing."

Oh Ancients is that why all his exes are Liminal? No, hold on, was part of the reason Vlad was so weird about him just ghost-vamp on ghost-vamp mutual hanger?

"What, I'm not the only Halfa in your life? John. I thought we had something special."

"Please don't make this weird. Do not flirt with me." John instantly scolds. "I know you're just being your little weird brand of playful, but I knew you when you were a kid shaped menace. C'mon."

Danny blinks. He didn't think he was flirting, but apparently he was. "Alright. Sorry, John."

There's a sudden crash on the other side of the phone. Followed by John's muffled cursing.

"Listen, I have to go. If you're serious about this I'll get you some good fakes. Text me with what you'd like your name to be." And then John hangs up. Danny smiles into the lingering silence.

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

PhantomMenace: Dante Nightingale, pwetty please 0w0

God's Favorite Whore: That's the most main character name I've ever bloody seen.

God's Favorite Whore: You're from a dead family in Illinois, farm boy, meta. Had an accident at 14, with a near death experience for believability. You've also been missing since shortly after it. Anyone looking into you will think that's when you got "turned."

PhantomMenace: thats why your the cool uncle <3

God's Favorite Whore: This should count as another favor, don't you think?

PhantomMenace: Yup. I'll be nice

PhantomMenace: 💚 ~2/20 Favors until Soul Return~ 💚

[hobby1008]

Chasing pleasure

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

sullyoon X M Reader

Tags: non-con ,creampie

You are the manager of NMIXX

Now, due to the schedule, you had to move with sullyoon, and you were looking for her.

While you were doing that, you heard a moaning sound from somewhere, and your body moved to the place where the sound came from.

There were two naked people exploring each other. You were staring at the scene as if you were possessed. You quickly started to think about who they were.

The man was someone you had never seen before, but the woman was someone you knew best, the very sullyoon you were looking for. You were surprised that sullyoon was having sex, but you were even more surprised to see the man with her. She had a boyfriend, but the man you were looking at was not her boyfriend. You immediately filmed the scene, and after getting enough content, you left the place.

When you saw what you had filmed, you started to worry. What should you do with this video? Will you blackmail her for money, or demand her body? You found the answer in a very short time.

As long as she had this video, she had to meet all your demands, and decided to get them as soon as possible.

You were driving right after her personal schedule was over the next day. You were supposed to take her to her dorm, but instead, you headed to your house.

After you got there, you turned off the engine, and she said, “Huh? Where is this? Aren’t you going to your dorm?”

“I have something to talk to you about, so can you stop by my house for a bit?”

She looked puzzled, but quickly agreed, and the two of you went into the house.

You prepared a simple tea and gave it to her, and she took a sip of it and said, “But what did you have to talk to me about?”

After hearing that, you thought you wouldn’t hesitate, so you sat next to her, and showed her what you had filmed.

She looked at you with a very surprised expression. “How did you do this?” You smiled at her and said, “Isn’t this a really funny video? A top star having an affair with her boyfriend?”

She then looked at you with a pleading expression and said, “Please erase it and I’ll do whatever you want.” “Really? Then suck my dick right away.” “Oh.. no, please I’ll give you everything else. Money? Do you want money?”

You show her the video again and say with a firm expression “You want your boyfriend and the public to see this.”

She then immediately changes her expression to submissive

and takes off your pants to reveal your dick.

She looks slightly surprised at your size

and you are satisfied with her.

But soon she starts caressing your dick.

She licks your glans lightly and puts it in her mouth right away.

“Fuck,” you moan, feeling ecstasy as her cherry lips wrap around your swollen shaft. Then she sees your reaction and puts your dick further into her mouth and starts caressing it slowly.

“Oh fuck,” you hiss through clenched teeth and run your fingers through her hair. She shook her head, flicked her tongue, and licked you with her saliva while caressing your cock.

"Fuck, so good sullyoon." You felt the urge to put both hands on her head and use her face, and you did it right away. After placing both hands on her head and slightly shaking your hips, you used her face, and she looked up at you with a contemptuous look in her doe eyes. That expression turned you on even more, and you used her face at a faster pace.

She quickly lost her breath and made a gesture asking you to release her. However, you ignored it and used her face for a few more minutes, and then released her. Then she immediately coughed and took a hard breath. "Isn't that what an affair partner does?" She listened to me and gasped for breath without saying anything. You sat her down on the sofa, spread her legs, and put your hand under her skirt, and tried to take off her panties. Then she looked surprised and started begging. “No, please.. I’ll satisfy you with my mouth. Here..” “What? You enjoyed it so much as an affair partner, why can’t I? I thought you liked other men’s dicks, but it’s too bad. I have no choice but to tell your boyfriend.”

Then she released her hand that was blocking you and immediately took off her panties. Then her shaved pussy was revealed, and it was incredibly beautiful and delicious. You immediately put your finger in and caressed her.

Then she squeezed your hand and started to squirt her juice. “Wow, sullyoon, your juice is amazing too.” You immediately put your dick in her pussy because she was ready.

Then she said to you with a pleading expression “Please… Go easy on me, this is my first time with something this big.” Her words were not meant to excite you, but were just a request, but they made you even more excited, and you slowly began to enjoy her pussy as she begged.

As her pussy, which was sullyoon, was filled with your big dick, she struggled to find her moans, and that started to burn your competitive spirit. You decided to take her down and make her a whore panting for your dick.

You first slowly gave her time to adjust to your dick, and then began to move.

It was a small movement for you, but it was a difficult movement for sullyoon, and she was barely holding on. You were so happy with her appearance, and began to humiliate her. “sullyoon.. Don’t you like it too much, I haven’t even started yet.”

You began to enjoy her pussy in earnest. You poked her deepest and most sensitive spot without any effort, and she soon lost her will and started to moan and squeeze your dick even more.

You started to give her pussy even greater pleasure. You filled her pussy at a fast pace, and took it out. And stabbing the best spot, And then she started to moan primitively saying, "Oh my-!", and her body shook under you, and she was surprised by her own moan just now, and said, "Please finish quickly." and. She didn't know what to do. "Words and actions are different, right, Mr. Sullyoon? Your pussy seems to be begging for my dick." She couldn't say anything after hearing you.

She started to crave this pleasure that she couldn't feel, and her internal muscles contracted as if they were waiting for you. You felt her heat, and her love juice wrapped around me, welcoming your dick.

“sullyoon.. admit everything and admit that my dick is good, and I’ll make you fall into the pleasure you want so much.” As soon as he said that, he started fucking her pussy indiscriminately.

“Relax and feel my dick. I’ll send you to heaven.” You continued to seduce sullyoon while muttering in her ear as you increased your speed. You hit her most sensitive part, and sullyoon’s legs were pulled up to your shoulders, and her entire body was arched in a beautiful arc.

You started to enjoy her even more by humiliating her with sullyoon’s reaction.

“You said no, but doesn’t it feel so good?”

She then looked at your dick with a resentful look in her eyes, panting, and you were satisfied with the sight.

“You’re mine, sullyoon. From now on, I can enjoy your delicious pussy whenever I want.” As your low voice echoed in sullyoon's ears, she made a gesture of resistance and said. "No… I can't… I have a boyfriend…" she said, but sullyoon's body squeezed her pussy even more as if pleading with you, wanting to fuck you, and you stabbed the deepest part of her body with your dick again at her attitude.

Then, the traces of resistance in sullyoon's eyes disappeared and were filled with longing. To put an end to sullyoon's increasingly surrendering appearance, you rubbed her clitoris with your hand, and started poking her g-spot with your dick.

Then, her pussy contracted violently as if it desperately wanted your dick, and hot water gushed out, soaking you.

However, you didn't stop even after her orgasm, and you thrust into her with more force, and she began to gasp as she fell into a great pleasure she had never felt before.

Her initial feelings of rejection towards you rather spread into even more longing for you, and she turned into a whore for your cock, squeezing your cock even more.

“That’s right, sullyoon.. You’re just a whore who wants cock, nothing more or less, you whore.”

She started to get even more excited when she heard the insults. “Beg for my cock, you whore, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“It feels so good, cock, this is the first time I’ve felt this way, fill me up and…”

sullyoon was once again in the moment of orgasm, moaning happily, and falling into unprecedented bliss, and you watched her reaction, and your movements became more intense, almost penetrating her.

Her body had already surrendered to your cock and was in pleasure. She was moaning so loudly that you couldn't find any behavior that tried to find moaning before, and every time you hit her like that, she fell into more pleasure, and felt her pussy wanting to pull out all your cum.

As you witnessed her squeezing and becoming a whore, the moment of climax was imminent, and you said to her, "You whore, I'll fill you up with cum."

Then you looked at her eyes and said, "Okay," and you used your last output to spray a large amount of cum deep inside her.

Then she fell into orgasm once again, feeling your cum coming out, and feeling the cum moving inside her pussy, and fell into pleasure.

[sweettoothy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃

╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !

︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex

︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn

NOTE: I shocked myself with this, hope y’all enjoy ^^ also since (y/n) is somewhere in another universe she can’t control this body she’s in, thankfully I hope that helps and doesn’t confuse anybody.

⟣・S2・PAINT THE TOWN BLUE︰

THE SOUND OF laughter echoes in your ears as loud music boomed with constant chatter of criminals and civilians alike. You bobbed your head up and down aggressively as you worked on some sort of machinery, nails long and colored your (f/c) to added to the outfit you were wearing. Your fist aggressively hits the table that you were seated at, your hair dyed an orange color with bright red highlights.

“Pass me another one!” You shouted, arms littered with tattoos and you also wore a pair of goggles, something felt different about you. weird, most likely.

Like a change. And nothing felt good about it either.

“(Y/n).” A woman shouted over the loud music that you played while you drunk from a jug, your boots clank against the floor as you scream the song from the top your lungs, making the woman behind you cover her ears in annoyance.

“(Y/n)!” The woman shouted once more.

The world here looked different, more…ruined and torn. but the city was still active.

You were inside zaun. piltover was taken over and destroyed by the topsiders who went berserk cause of a leak. It was like a zombie outbreak but wasn’t, caitlyn and vi were still alive too but— they kept their distance from you for whatever reason.

“(Y/N)!” The woman shouted louder, throwing the music box onto the ground.

You burst out laughing and slipped off your goggles, turning towards her. “How can I help you dear friend? did you wanna check out my explosives again? or the money I stole from—“

“No!” The woman retorts, “it’s kris to you. do you know you stole from the same people we’re enemies with?!”

You deadpanned, showing off your pearly whites. “And so on, and so on..even if did steal from them, it shouldn’t matter. we’re enemies may I remind you? so what if millions of dollars were taken from them. piltover is gone all thanks to ME! so you’re welcome.”

Kris growls. “You know they’ll be after us, correct? because you couldn’t keep those filthy hands off that launcher. glad your parents aren’t here to see this…I know they’d be disappointed.” She mumbled lowly under her breath.

One of your eyes twitched when she said this, “you don’t know anything about me.” you say through clenched teeth.

“You’re weak.” Kris retorts. “Weak people make mistakes all the time-- they’ll never get it right.”

You tilt your head, your hair falling against one side of your face as your teeth chatter against themselves with impending anger. “I’ve done what I did for us. you don’t see any enforcers bombarding you with any weapons-- now do you?! I’ve done everything I did to get zaun to this point with you. so I’m not weak, you are because you had me do your dirty work! the entire council I killed was for your sake and zauns so get it right!”

Kris gaze softened. “I know, kid. I just..I’m worried for your well-being okay? I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire.“ She says, rubbing the skin above her eyepatch.

You blinked a few times before holding back your tears, “I’ve always looked up to you, Kristy. I wanna help.” you tell her.

Kris opened her arms for you to hug her, and when she did you rushed into her arms and held her close.

This version of you wasn’t as fragile— you seemed strong, headset on ending anything that would get in your way.

A few sobs escaped you.

You felt like the same little girl again when you had witnessed your parents die— Casandra kiramman being the cause of it— sending those enforcers to kill your parents even though they had done nothing wrong.

And then when you first saw her daughter, caitlyn, you knew you had to get your get back. so the fall of piltover was satisfying for you.

Kris wasn’t sure what was going through that mind of yours but she knew you had a good heart. a good heart like yours would say otherwise, though.

“ITS BEGINNING TO FEEL…” You sang in a raspy voice as you spin around in your chair, holding a very dangerous bomb in your hand. “A lot like christmas!” you stomp your foot against the ground hard, the muscles on your body straining as you picked up a heavy box, this version of you seemed stronger, less angry and more..happy. A soft hum leaves your lips as you grabbed your gun, waving it around as you started having visions of a blue haired girl and a pink haired one— her sister wearing an enforcer outfit— the one you didn’t hesitate to kill during the accident in piltover— well, you didn’t kill her, you almost did.

Vi didn’t hate you but she was scared that you might try hurting powder again, her younger sister that was now in a coma because of you.

Caitlyn hated you. despised you.

Of course she hated you. you killed her mother, hurt her girlfriend’s sister— you were a monster, in her eyes.

A monster…her mother created.

A monster she created.

A monster vi created.

They were no angels in your eyes, just demons. the demons you were headset on ending.

“Don’t move.” A soft voice says. “You’re under arrest.”

You don’t turn around as you felt something press against the lower end or your back, it felt like a shotgun but way worse.

Vi stood in front of you, blocking the doorway as she makes sure you don’t leave.

You chuckle. “Wow. what a way to sneak in.”

“Stop talking.” Caitlyn demanded. “Turn around and let vi cuff you.”

You snort, stepping back as you stared at a trembling caitlyn, her gun now aimed at your chest. “I don’t wanna do something I’ll regret. so move!” she demanded.

You stare her directly in the eyes, not bothering to move.

“Just do what she says, (y/n).” Vi pleaded. “You’ve already done enough damage.”

Turning to vi you see she had moved away from the doorway. “You don’t know anything. I thought you understood me, but the second I saw you with her, I thought-- ‘oh she’s just like the rest’. and you are. nothing but a bluebelly in a sock. that’s all.”

“The girl I knew-“

“Knew.” You cut her off. “Yeah. who you knew. that’s not me anymore.”

Caitlyn kicks the bottle of shimmer to the ground, which was full to the hilt. “You’re doing her dirty work again? she’s no savior, (y/n). you killed my mother because of what she had asked you to do?! Kris is just another—“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You shouted, your head beginning to hurt. “You have zero respect, I made a name for myself. so put some respect on it!”

Caitlyn sees you start to lose it as you hit your fist against the ground repeatedly, collapsing to your knees as tears fall down your eyes—

Tears of shimmer.

Voices felt like they were talking to you left and right, telling you to end it all with everyone inside. But you had to finish it.

Standing up slowly you don’t turn to face vi and caitlyn, your fingers twitching. “Get out before I do something I won’t regret.”

“(Y/n).” Vi spoke, hesitantly making her way towards you and placing her hand on your shoulder. “I know you’re in there. I know you have to—“

“VI!” Caitlyn screams when she sees you head butt her heard, vi yelps and clutched her now bleeding nose.

Reaching into your bag, you grabbed your launcher which was colored red and orange, the belt around your pants loop loosened a bit from falling to the ground. “I’m tired of talking to a bunch of hypocrites who won’t listen.” you say hoarsely.

“Just…” You trail off. “Fucking die. get out of my life. leave me alone!”

You were about to pull the trigger but caitlyn tackled you to the ground.

The two of you struggle for dominance but you get the upper hand while using your shimmer that had already invaded your mind and your veins, you grab caitlyn by the hair and slam her head into the ground.

“Cait!” Vi shouted before she rushed towards you and threw you towards the ground, “stop! you—“

Your eyes dilated as you looked at vi, she looked way too much like the girl you had met when you were younger— it’s like everyone in your life either left you or abandoned you— that’s why you were so happy Kristy too you in.

Like a real mother.

She was the only one you had.

“GET OFF ME!” You screamed and threw vi to the ground and off of you.

You straddle vi’s waist and wrapped your hands around her neck, cutting the air from her lungs. Vi struggles to get you off her, thrashing around in your grip— nails digging into her flesh.

Vi starts to cough, face going blue.

The mascara that was around your eyes were smeared from the tears that you had just cried. Caitlyn finally came to her senses and saw what you were doing, hurrying to her feet she rushed towards you and hit you in the face with her knee.

You let out a cry of pain and fell to the ground, blood rushing down your nose.

This was caitlyn’s chance. She had you right where she wanted you— she was ready to take her anger out on you since you were the cause of this after all.

Caitlyn uses her fist and connects it against your face, punching you repeatedly as tears fall down her eyes, vi coughs as she clutched her neck, gasping for air.

You felt tears brim your eyes, legs shaking as caitlyn continued to hit you, the blood from your nose now splattering against your chest and face. You clawed at caitlyn’s face, scratching her cheek.

But then…she stops. Her eyes landing on your orange and red ones as she sees your bloodied face, the tears that were falling down your eyes which was shimmer making her regret hurting you.

“Your mom did this to me.” You cried. “So the way she hurt me I wanted to hurt you. make sure you didn’t have any parents.”

“But why?! I had nothing to do with what she-“

“I SHOULD’VE KILLED YOUR DAD WHILE I HAD THE CHANCE!” You shouted, “then maybe you’d really feel how it felt to lose everything, you bitch!”

Your mouth finds her finger and you bite down hard, feeling something crack.

“Shit!” Caitlyn shouted and pulled away from you, a few tears escaping her eyes as she saw you lay on the ground.

“We have to go.” Vi tells her. “We can’t save someone we’ve already lost.”

Caitlyn stares down at you, anger fueling her. “I’m not letting her get away again.”

You stare at the bomb that lays beside you, “yeah…me either.” You then rushed over and grabbed your launcher, aiming it at the two of them.

“I’m not gonna deal with this again.” You spoke hoarsely, blood still dripping down your nose and onto your face. “I’m done being your puppet.“

Pulling the trigger you see the bullet leave the launcher, vi covers caitlyn and the both of them hurry out the window.

The bullet misses and hits an abandoned building.

“No!” You screamed. “No, no, no! that’s not how it was supposed to go!”

You had missed the shot again.

“Eyes on the target.” An enforcer says from a walkie while sitting on another building.

Caitlyn stares at a bloodied you and turned to vi, nodding.

“Take the shot.” She tells him.

The enforcer pulled the trigger on your gun, aiming for your head. but you saw this and dodged—

Sadly…

Your hand didn’t.

The bullet shoots off two of your fingers, making you look in shock— the blue electricity from the crystal flickering. You stare at your hand, tears escaping your eyes.

Did they go too far…?

You ran off, disappearing from their sights.

This was only the start of something worse

END OF CHAPTER FOUR

[lwh-writing]

If I may (forgive me, I don't know how CPS works, I had to make up names, and it's long):

As a correspondent for Casper County Child Protective Services, Julia is unfortunately used to taking plenty of calls, especially for the city of Amity Park.

Julia is also used to getting calls regarding the Fentons. At least half a dozen of her coworkers have their own personal accounts of the peculiar couple and their children, and Julia has twice had to stop by Fenton Works and assess the situation for herself. What she and her colleagues have found is a well-meaning, but feckless pair of scientists that continue to *just barely* scrape by every evaluation. If it wasn't for the fact that Jasmine and Daniel Fenton weren't so perfectly happy, healthy, and loved in their home, Julia knows that the Fenton family would've long-since been broken up.

None of this prepares her for receiving The Call.

Julia's shift ends in a little over an hour. The phone rings, and she pulls up both a new tab on her organizational software and a new page on her notepad. She hopes that this call is for something minor, and that it's the last she'll receive for the day, as she wanted to enjoy the rest of the weekend in peace.

Unfortunately, The Call is neither of those things.

"This is Casper County Child Protective Services. I am--" Before Julia can continue her usual spiel, the sound of a wailing child cuts clear across the line.

"It's Maddie Fenton," the voice on the other end says, just barely heard over the cries.

Julia sighs and begins to pull up the usual file. "What have the Fentons done this time?"

"I think you misunderstood," the voice continued, "This is Maddie Fenton. I'd like to file a--." More cries drown out Dr. Fenton's words, and soon the light sound of footsteps and a closing door can also be heard. The cries don't quite stop, but they are much more muffled.

"....are you reporting yourself and your husband?" Julia asks. It wouldn't be the first time a parent has called CPS and requested that their children be removed from their own custody. Sometimes, bad parents are just good enough to recognize when their child deserves better than them, and other times, good parents know that they are spiraling or hitting a rough patch hard enough that they cannot continue to give their children what they need. Julia has always respected those types of people the most.

"No, I...." Dr. Fenton said, "It's about my sister's son, Timothy Turner."

Julia searches for the name in the Casper County database, only to find nothing. "I'm sorry, that name doesn't appear to be in my files."

"It probably wouldn't be in Amity Park. My sister Luisa and her husband live in Dimmsdale."

Julia expanded her search to the city in question and found a Turner family living in Dimmsdale.

"Right, then. May I ask how old Timmy is?"

"He's six."

She then asked Dr. Fenton to describe the problem that led her to call CPS.

"My sister and I have not always had the closest relationship," Dr. Fenton explained, "Luisa can be a bit flighty and airheaded, making communication difficult. I'd often make a few calls, only for them to be ignored and responded to a month later. It didn't really bother me much until Luisa had a kid."

"Did you worry that your sister's tendencies would make her forgetful in regards to her child's care?"

"There were a few moments, but I didn't think they would stick," Dr. Fenton said after a moment of thought, "I thought there might be growing pains, but I guess I thought having a child might force Luisa to become more mature. But I was wrong. My sister and her husband are obviously not taking their duties as parents seriously, and I think there might be some major problems."

"Such as?" Julia egged on, grabbing a pen and preparing to jot down notes.

"From the beginning, Jack and I noticed a few odd remarks. Thomas, Luisa's husband, really wanted a daughter. When Luisa was pregnant, he would go on about all the father-daughter things they would do together. But when they had Timmy instead, it was as if Thomas and Luisa were never expecting. Thomas didn't once mention any of the activities or other things, and barely mentioned Timmy at all beyond lamenting the fact that he didn't have a 'precious babygirl'."

"That is very concerning," Julia agreed, "Is there anything else?"

"Yes. Whenever we would visit Luisa for weekends or holidays or such, we'd often find Timmy alone at the house. I took Luisa aside and told her that her son wasn't old enough to stay by himself and that he needed a babysitter. She got him one, thankfully, but when we came over next time, Timmy immediately burst into tears and told us how his babysitter would hurt him."

Julia stopped her writing. "Did you tell your sister?"

"Of course I did," Dr. Fenton said, tone irked, "But Luisa dismissed it out of hand. She and Thomas both claimed that Timmy was just lying for attention. But the way my nephew looked, I.... I just couldn't take any chances. So one weekend, about three months ago, Jack and I took the kids to Dimmsdale a couple hours early to see if we could catch the babysitter in the act. And what we found--"

A disgruntled, grunting noise came from the other end of the receiver.

"It was horrible. That vile witch of a teenager had Timmy tied up like a prized hog at a fair, and had dozens of weapons and torture instruments all laid out. We swung open the front door to see her laughing manically at Timmy's tears, nine-tails whip raised in hand. She tried to play it off, but we caught her red-handed and she knew it."

"Jack and the kids stayed with Timmy, but I took the girl aside and made it very clear that if she stepped within ten feet of my nephew again, I would tear her apart molecule by molecule. Then we waited for Luisa and Thomas to get home so we could explain the situation. They finally arrived just before midnight, the both of them tipsy from a date night out. Jack and I tried to explain the situation again, but they dismissed it. Again."

"Did you attempt to contact Dimmsdale police or CPS when you found the babysitter?" Julia asked, wondering what the fuck kind of trainwreck she was getting dragged into.

"Yes, we did," Dr. Fenton confirmed, "The police were useless. Apparently, the babysitter would sit for the officers, and they all claimed that she was an 'absolute godsend' that could 'straighten out even the most delinquent of children'. CPS wasn't much better, and when we went to try and talk with her parents, they seemed just as terrified of her as Timmy was. So Jack and I discussed our options and finally told my sister and her husband that we would babysit Timmy whenever it was needed, no charge required."

Julia made a note to report Dimmsdale CPS to Internal Affairs, all the while encouraging Dr. Fenton to continue. Not that much encouragement was needed. It seemed as if Dr. Fenton was finally releasing weeks' worth of frustration towards her sister, brother-in-law, and overall situation.

"The first time we babysat, we had to drive the two hours to Dimmsdale and get Timmy ourselves. Neither Luisa or Thomas made mention of what their plans were for pickup, or when they'd be done with whatever they were doing. They just absently told us goodbye and drove off. We packed up a few of Timmy's toys-- all of which were birthday and Christmas gifts from us, mind you --and then went back to Amity Park. It was a fun day, but once we were done with dinner, we started calling Luisa and Thomas to see where they were, and we still didn't receive an answer. We eventually decided to drive Timmy back. We came home to an empty house, and didn't leave until the Turners came in a little after two."

"The second time we babysat, Jack and I ran a bit of an experiment," Dr. Fenton confessed, "We picked Timmy up on a Friday after school, packed him a few changes of clothes, and then took him back to our place. We waited the entire weekend to see if either Luisa or Thomas would notice we had essentially kidnapped their son. They didn't call or text once. The only reason we took Timmy back to Dimmsdale was because he had school Monday morning."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Julia swore under her breath.

"And that brings us to now," Dr. Fenton said, "Jack and I picked up Timmy, but this time, we refused to leave Dimmsdale until Luisa and Thomas gave us straight answers as to where they were going, what they were doing, and when they would pick up their son. Apparently, Thomas has a Pencil Conference in Pennsylvania. They assured us that Timmy would be coming with them. Their flight leaves from the O'Hare airport at six. It is currently a quarter past four, I have been trying to call my sister for three hours and received no answer, and my nephew is crying his eyes out because he is a six-year-old child who misses his parents no matter how horrible they may be. And I just... don't know what to do."

Julia let out a shaky breath before creating a new case file and saying to the defeated-sounding woman, "You've done the right thing in calling today, Dr. Fenton."

"...thank you," she said, "I know this is the right thing for my nephew, but my sister..."

"Your sister is a grown woman who has made her choices," Julia dismissed before creating a new file, "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but it sounds as if you and your husband wouldn't be opposed to housing Timmy as we get this situation dealt with."

"That is correct, yes. The kids love their cousin, and Jack and I just want Timmy to be happy and safe."

"Good. What I am going to do, Dr. Fenton, is contact a judge in Amity Park and tell them to grant you emergency custody of Timothy Turner. I am also going to contact the proper channels to start an investigation into the Dimmsdale CPS, the Dimmsdale police, and the babysitter who terrorized your nephew. What was her name?"

"Vicky," Dr. Fenton spat, "Vicky Carter."

"Thank you, Dr. Fenton," Julia said, writing the name down, "Now, we will try to get you emergency custody as soon as possible, but that usually takes a while. Two weeks, at the minimum."

"Thomas and Luisa said the Pencil Conference lasted a week, and that they were thinking of staying for a while to see the sights."

"Well," Julia said, wondering exactly how serendipitous the events turned out to be, "Well, then that just works in our favor. You will most likely receive another visit from Child Protective Services just to confirm that your household can support three children. After that, it would be best if your entire family could refrain from contacting Mr. and Mrs. Turner, as a legal battle to remove your nephew from their care will most likely follow. Are there any particular charges you'd like to level against the Turners?"

"Child neglect and child abandonment," Dr. Fenton answered immediately.

"Well, then we are of the same mind. Please expect a multitude of emails and phone calls in the near future."

"Of course. And thank you, for the help."

Julia said her goodbyes and rose from her desk. As she was making her way to the Internal Affairs office, a few voices called out from the breakroom.

"Uh-oh, somebody's got their business face on," Tyler teased, "Anything we should be worried about?"

"I got a call from the Fentons."

A few chuckles rose up from the room.

"What they'd do this time, cover the 'Spirit of Clean' mascot with neon green silly string?"

Julia frowned and shook her head. "Dr. Maddie Fenton called to report her sister for abandonment and neglect."

The room went quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"Shit," Tyler murmured, "How fucked up does the case have to be for the Fentons to turn someone in?"

"You don't want to know," Julia said, turning on her heel and continuing down the hall, "You don't want to know."

✨Au ✨ Moms are sisters

[inuxi]

that ask was rude of me, i should've just blocked you instead of telling you about it, i'm sorry. i'm aroace and sex+romance repulsed, and i guess i thought alastor was gonna be something i could enjoy for once like everyone else gets to without feeling like i'm intruding on a conversation i have no right to be part of. i'm on ios so i can't use browser extensions to actually get rid of all the alastor ship posts like i want, and i'm not sure my problem even has a solution short of just giving up trying, because so far i have found exactly zero blogs that are 1.) still active at all, 2.) still post about Hazbin, 3.) aren't actually 12 years old, and 4.) don't post about fucking Alastor ships. i got so excited seeing such good, recent art i haven't nuked yet considering how old every other post i can still see is, and i'm not kidding when i say i sent that ask through tears. it was rude and unacceptable either way, and i'm sorry.

i've blocked over 200 different people and i'm not exaggerating that number even a little bit. i would rather put a gun to my head and pull the trigger myself than see them so much as breathe next to each other ever again. i am so. so so so so so sick of searching and searching and searching and finding nothing.

the thing i've learned from alastor's aroace representation is that not only is the world as a whole not made to accommodate me, fandom space isn't either. i am an alien on a planet i was never made to fit into, and i don't even get to escape that through fiction like everyone else does. no amount of filtering and blocking and searching will bring into existence a community for me that simply does not exist, and it is futile for me to try. that's what this fandom has taught me.

i think the chances of me sticking around in this fandom are slim, so at least it won't be an issue for anyone else anymore. i think being excluded from conversations about an aroace character sting a lot more than just not being represented at all to be honest.

Okay, listen.

First of all, Alastor is officially an Ace, NOT an aroace. That means he can still be interested in any romantic things or finding a couple. No one is stopping you from seeing him exclusively as an aroace. But shaming people who don't share your point of view is a bad idea.

Secondly, I am an aroace artist myself. Romantic and sexual themes are virtually non-existent in my art. I can joke about it, but almost all of my drawings explore completely different things. And you come to me and try to talk about how hard it is to feel socially comfortable being an aroace? I understand your worries, but, again, trying to shame other people because they don't share your point of view is NOT a healthy coping mechanism.

Third, I have done THREE drawings in all my time that include a romanticized Alastor. Two of them were collabs, and the third was asked to be drawn by people. And these three drawings made you give up on my art, which you said you really liked?

The community is too heavily oriented towards romantic and sexual themes, it's true. People like us are often uncomfortable in that environment, that's also true. But aroace people can't just come in and ban others from having fun just because we don't find that fun or interesting.

Man, I'm not even Alastor's artist! What the kind of Alastor shipper am I? And you picked me out of a thousand people to block? Oh my God, that's as funny as it is sad.

In case you haven't looked at my art, I am a Lucifer artist. I very rarely draw Alastor, simply because I don't find him interesting enough. And because of that, I find it so funny to be labeled an “Alastor shipper”

[stylesispunk]

"Hands in the hair of someone named marcus" | part ii

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

previous part

Summary: the cursed blood of Geta and Caracalla runs through your veins sealing your fate. However, General Acacius is willing to fight for you and you become his most important reason to live.

w.c: 6k.

Warnings: angst, smut (if you could call it that), power imbalance, violence, fluff.

a/n: Thank you so much for the love you gave to the first part of this one (I could cry). I literally loved General Acacius so much and he deserves better and all the flowers. With this part I don't know if a third one is necessary, so I hope you like it and enjoy it! Remember, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading. 💌

| dividers by @/saradika-graphics |

by the way, I'm working on some requests, I haven't forgotten about you. I'm just really busy. 🤞✨

“You make it sound so simple,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with deep worry

Marcus smiled faintly, the corner of his lips lifting in a way that made your heart burst. “Love doesn’t erase chaos, my lady,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of years spent in timeless battles. “But it gives you something to dream of”

The peace you had found in Marcus words and presence, was fleeting as a storm passing by during a summer day. The soothing protections you felt under his stare was shattered the moment Geta and Caracalla noticed your absence.

Despite them not being as much loved as you by the people. Servants’ loyalty fell on them and it was a matter of time for them to find the truth intentions behind the demeanor of the beloved General Acacius.

You barely had time to breathe before the heavy doors to the villa burst open, and there they were, Geta and Caracalla, flanked by their guards. Their faces were twisted with fury, their regal demeanor replaced by a feral madness that made your blood run cold.

There you were back the palace, locking gazes with the man your brothers had promised you to. And you barely had time to breathe before there was blood was dripping from the fallen gladiator who had been won the battle in the arena.

Yours felt in your ears, the rush, the bombing and the guilt.

Your hand was a fake prize for a foolish man dreaming of his freedom. Dreaming of belonging to the most powerful family of the empire.

You were speechless, so it was Acacius who stood by your side as a personal armored guard, swearing to protect you from the cruel madness your brothers had descended into.

"Do you think I do not love you, sister?" Geta asked, with a tone that sent shivers down your spine. "I wouldn't allow a man like that to marry you" he said referring to the now lifeless gladiator laying on the floor.

Geta walked closer to you, in a swift moment he raised his hand to caress your face, but before he could even reach your skin. Marcus stepped in front of you, defying the emperor

Geta froze, his hand lingering midair as Marcus placed himself between the two of you. The tension in the air was suffocating, the once-roaring crowd now silenced by the audacity of Marcus’s actions.

"Step aside, General," Geta hissed, his voice dripping with menace, though his expression betrayed a flicker of disbelief.

Marcus met his gaze with unflinching resolve. "With all due respect, Emperor, I will not."

Geta’s eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring as he took a step closer, his face inches from Marcus’s. "You dare defy me?”

Marcus did not waver. "I swore an oath to serve Rome, and that includes its people. Your sister above all. She is not yours to intimidate, Emperor."

The crowd murmured in hushed tones, the audacity of the general spreading like wildfire among them. Caracalla rose from his seat, his expression one of cold calculation as he descended the steps toward the scene.

"Kill him," Caracalla shouted, his eyes burned with anger.

Geta ignored him, his focus locked solely on Marcus. "You think your rank protects you, General Acacius?”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he spoke with measured restraint. "I think my loyalty to Rome and its empire is unwavering. But I will not stand by and allow cruelty you bring to your sister.”

The words struck a nerve. Geta’s lips curled into a bitter smile as he finally dropped his hand, though his eyes never left Marcus. "Bold words, General," he said, stepping back. "Perhaps too bold for a man whose future depends on my goodwill."

He turned to the crowd, spreading his arms as if to dismiss the tension. "Let it be known," he declared, his voice echoing across the arena, "that my sister is under my protection. Any man who wishes to court her must prove his worth, not just to her, but to Rome."

His gaze flickered back to Marcus; his smile venomous. "Are you willing to stake your life on this, General? To face the arena in her name?"

Marcus did not hesitate. "I am."

The arena erupted in chaos, the crowd roaring with approval at the prospect of a new fight. Geta’s smile widened as he leaned closer to Marcus, his voice low enough for only the two of you to hear.

"Then prepare yourself, Acacius," he whispered. "Because I will make sure this fight is the hardest battle of your life."

He turned and strode away, Caracalla following closely behind. Marcus remained still, his shoulders rigid as the crowd cheered for the fight to come.

You reached out, your hand brushing his arm. "Marcus," you whispered, your voice trembling.

He turned to you, his expression softening for the briefest moment. "Do not fear, my lady," he said, his voice steady. "I will win. For you."

Your heart ached at the weight of his words, but before you could respond, he stepped away, his focus already on the battle ahead.

The days passed in agonizing silence, and ahead to the battle at the coliseum, you were confined to your quarters, guarded closely by your brother’s guards. Two of the were stood just outside your door as a warning, even beyond all that, as a reminder of the power Geta and Caracalla held over you.

You hadn’t had news of Marcus since the day you parted ways after he told your brothers he was going to fight for you at the Arena. The fear and worry consumed you, and even your own servants met with a soft indifference and dismissal. It was as if the world had conspired to separate you from the one person who had fought to protect you. You spent your days pacing the confines of your chamber, that now felt suffocating.

You imagined Marcus alone, preparing for the fight under the oppressive gaze of your brothers. Was he thinking of you? Did he share the same fear that gripped your heart? Or was he steadfast in his resolve, his mind fixed solely on the battle to come? 

Would he have regretted it?

Not bearing the questions anymore, you got up from your bed determined to break your brothers’ orders and persuade the only desire fueling flames in your heart.

The moon hung low in the sky, its light spilling into your chambers as you slipped through the doorway, your heart pounding in your chest. The guards outside had been lured away with a clever diversion, and you moved quickly, draped in a simple cloak that hid your identity.

You held your breath, waiting, but the guards remained oblivious.

Wrapping a cloak tightly around your shoulders, you slipped into the corridor, moving swiftly but silently. The villa seemed to be a labyrinth of shadowy hallways.

The night air bit at your skin as you reached the courtyard. The sound of the guards’ boots echoing in the distance urged you forward, and with grace, you mounted the horse, urging it into a gallop toward Marcus’s quarters at the edge of the city.

The journey was risky. The streets of Rome were alive even at this hour, the echoes of revelry and the whispers of the approaching battle filling the air. You kept your hood low, your heart racing with every shadow that moved.

Finally, you arrived at his villa. It was modest compared to the luxuriousness of the imperial palace, but it was guarded nonetheless. Two soldiers stood at the entrance, their posture rigid. You dismounted, your steps purposeful as you approached them.

“I need to see him,” you said, your voice firm despite the tremor of fear beneath it.

The guards exchanged a glance, their hesitation palpable once they noticed who you were. “The general has ordered no visitors, my lady.” one of them said.

“I am not a visitor,” you countered, your voice rising slightly. “Will you stand in my way?”

They hesitated, but something in your tone made them step aside.

“I’ll take you with him” one of them offered.

You nodded. The guard gestured for you to follow, leading you through the dimly lit villa. You kept your hood low, your heart pounding in your chest. Every creak of the floorboards and every distant sound made your pulse quicken, but you refused to let fear deter you.

“This way, my lady,” the guard whispered, stopping at the end of a long hallway. “His quarters are just beyond this door.”

You nodded, slipping a small pouch of coins into his hand. “Thank you,” you said softly.

He bowed his head. “I wish you both the best.”

As the guard retreated, you turned to the door. Your hand trembled as it hovered over the handle, the weight of the past days pressing heavily on your shoulders. You took a steadying breath and pushed the door open.

The room was warm, lit only by the glow of a hearth. Marcus sat at a sturdy wooden table, poring over a map with a furrowed brow. His armor was laid in the table beside him, the metal gleaming in the firelight. The sight of him dressed in a white tunic, so strong, made your chest tighten with longing.

The sound of the door closing behind you drew his attention. His head snapped up, and for a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then his features softened, his brow relaxing as recognition dawned.

“My lady,” he said, rising to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t stay away,” you said, your voice thick with emotion as you stepped closer. “I had to see you.”

His gaze flickered to the door behind you, his shoulders tensing. “You shouldn’t have come. If your brothers-”

“I don’t care what they think,” you interrupted, your voice trembling with resolve. “I needed to see you. To know you’re well.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, his hands settling on your shoulders. “You took an enormous risk coming here. If they find out-”

“I don’t care,” you interrupted, your hands gripping the front of his tunic. “I couldn’t bear another moment without you. Tomorrow feels like a lifetime away from seeing you again.”

Marcus’s gaze darkened with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, and his hands slid down your arms, pulling you closer. “You’ve always been braver than I deserve,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “But you shouldn’t have to be.”

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, as though he needed to memorize the feel of you. The weight of the world melted away in that moment, leaving only the two of you and the quiet hum of the night.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. You were the closest thing he had to touch the moon that shine over you with his own hands, his heart felt at ease at the thought of you and now that he was looking directly at you, he felt alive and braver than ever.

“Tomorrow, I’ll fight for you and for us,” he said, his voice resolute. “And I’ll win. I swear it.”

His words were a solemn vow, carrying the weight of his love and his unyielding strength of power. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and for a moment, the universe seemed to hold its breath, the stars outside aligning for the two of you.

“Marcus,” you whispered, “You’re everything to me. I don’t care about their rules or their power. All I care about is you.”

His lips curved into a faint smile; a softness rarely seen breaking through the stoicism that often cloaked him. “Then you’ve already given me the strength I need,” he replied, his hands sliding from your arms to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed your cheeks, as if memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his calloused touch could save him from his duties and just sacred himself to serve and adore you.

“I’ll return to you,” he said, the conviction in his tone leaving no room for doubt. “No force in this world could keep me away.”

The sheer intensity of his gaze sent shivers through you, and you found yourself leaning into him, finding solace in his unwavering presence. “I’ll be waiting,” you promised, capturing his lips in a desperate attempt to feel like he wouldn't die for you in the arena.

You didn't want to become the wife of a dead husband; you didn't want Marcus to die for you. You just wanted him and all the love he had to offer.

Marcus deepened the kiss, his hand pressing against the small of your back to hold you closer, as if he too feared the distance that tomorrow might bring. His other hand cradled your face with a gentleness that contrasted the ferocity of his actions. For a moment, time seemed to halt, the world outside fading into oblivion. It was just the two of you, locked in an embrace that spoke of love, desperation, and promises yet to be written.

“Acacius” you whispered, feeling the fire burning inside you.

Marcus’s name on your lips was a melody he never wanted to stop hearing. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours, his breath mingling with yours as though he couldn’t bear even a whisper of space between you. The fire you felt inside was reflected in his gaze, a raw, unyielding passion, tempered by the tenderness of a man who loved you more than life itself.

"Say it again," he murmured, his voice low, rough, as if your words were the only thing grounding him.

“Acacius,” you repeated, your voice trembling at the feeling of his hands roaming all over your body as a delicate map of Roma itself, the same Acacius had sworn to serve and protect.

His hands traced your skin with reverence, as if he were mapping the contours of not just your body, but your very soul. Each touch was delicate, as though he were imprinting his essence into every inch of you, claiming you in the most intimate way possible.

"Your name," he breathed, his lips brushing against your ear, "is the only thing I need to hear. The only thing that matters." His voice was like a caress, both tender and desperate.

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath on your neck, of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. “And I, you," you whispered back, your hands exploring the firm planes of his chest, his heart beating in sync with yours.

His actions hit a chord inside you that you didn’t know existed. The weight of his promises and devotion, the depth of his feelings, was overwhelming. You leaned closer, wrapping your arms around him, needing to feel him against you, to feel that he was real.

"I need you, Marcus," you whispered, your lips grazing his jaw, trembling with the depth of your words. "I need you to come back to me. Please, don’t let anything happen to you."

He pulled you into him, his hands framing your face as he kissed you, slowly, deeply, pouring all of his promises into the kiss. "I swear it," he breathed against your lips, his hands sliding down your body, his touch fierce with resolve. "I will come back. No matter what. I swear it on the gods and on my heart."

With those words, he kissed you again, and in that kiss, you could taste the sweet desperation, the love, the unspoken promises. And as the world outside faded away, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. He was yours, and you were his. And nothing, not even fate itself, could break that bond.

“Lay on the bed” he ordered, softly. Still caressing your jaw and neck with the touch of his lips on you.

Under the spell he seemed to have you under, you obeyed him, lying down carefully on his bed, not breaking the gaze between the two of you. He came towards you, with a look that seemed to burn you, but with love and adoration, to which you could give yourself without thinking of the consequences.

With his body over yours, he kept looking down at you as if you were the greatest treasure in this empire. His lips drew maps over you, on your cheeks, on your lips, on your neck. When his hands rested on your breasts, it felt like the air in your lungs didn't know where to go. The feeling was something you hadn't experienced, but you wanted to dive into it.

His fingers worked with your dress, leaving you completely bare under his stare. You turned your head to the side, embarrassed to be seen this way, but he with his fingers held your jaw, delicately.

“You’re the most beautiful woman, my lady” he whispered, kissing your lips, as his hands returned to your breasts, eliciting whimpers from your mouth.

His lips began to move down from your lips to your chest, planting kisses on where your heart was beating rapidly for him and the love you felt. Then, he delicately grabbed one of your nipples with his mouth, savoring the way your body reacted under his actions, your back arched for him, and his hands caressed your waist, trying to hold you in place.

Under him, under his actions, but not under his possession.

“Acacius” you moaned, softly. The way he was making you feel was something foreign to you, something you thought you would never feel.

His hand travelled up to your lips, his thumb tracing delicate patterns on your lips, as you kiss it with the same intention despite the fire burning inside you, your mind felt void and your body felt limb under Marcus orders.

With his hand on your lips, his detached from your breast, planting kisses down, leaving a hot patch down until he reached your stomach.

“God…” you whispered faintly.

His hands intertwined yours in attempt to hold you, as he kept kissing down your stomach, going even lower, until you could feel his breath where you needed him the most.

"I want to give you all I have," Marcus whispered, “But tonight I cannot.”

Before you could even respond, you felt his lips on your thighs, soft and delicate working up on you. Your breathing seemed to catch, until he reached the place where you needed him most.

Releasing a long sigh, your body seemed to gave up to him “Acaius...yes, just there.” you murmured faintly.

His lips seemed to know every part of you and nothing ever felt as good as it felt now. Your back arched as his mouth seemed to be taking you to the stars. In every kiss, in every touch, in every foreign sensation that was becoming familiar.

Acacius was starved, hungry for you. “You taste like heaven, my lady” he murmured.

Your hands let go of his, reaching up to his curls, bringing him even more impossibly close. You could feel his breath on you and how his tongue worked to please you.

Before you could even cry out, he detached his lips from your cunt, grabbing your mouth with his fiercely. His hands roamed over you, pulling you closer to him, as if he couldn’t get enough. Your legs instinctively crossed around his middle, anchoring him to you, and for a moment, the world outside seemed so distant, so unimportant. It was just the two of you, entwined in a way that made everything else fade away.

His lips left yours for a moment, trailing soft kisses down your neck as he whispered sweet things to you, his voice hushed and filled with the kind of devotion that left your heart racing.

“I’m sorry my lady, I shouldn’t have- “

“I’m yours,” you interrupted, locking your gaze with his.

His eyes softened as he gazed down at you, his hands now resting gently on your waist.

“And I’m yours” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm against the delicate curve of your neck. “Every part of me, every breath, belongs to you.”

“I want this” you reassured.

“And I do want this too, my lady. But after I win, after I marry you. I will take you with no fear inside me.” He replied. There was no need for more words; everything had already been said. The love, the longing, the passion was there.

With a final kiss, Marcus slowly pulled away, his forehead resting against yours once more. "I'll be back for you," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "I swear it."

And you, holding him in your arms, closed your eyes, trusting him, knowing that no matter what, you would always find your way back to each other.

You gazed into Marcus’s eyes, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, but his words pulled you back to reality. There was no escaping what tomorrow would bring.

"Rest?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "How can I, knowing what you're about to face?"

Marcus smiled, his expression softening with a warmth that made your heart swell. “Because, my lady, you need your strength for the days ahead. And because I promised you I would return.” He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Sleep, knowing that I am fighting for you. For us."

Your throat tightened as you nodded, unwilling to argue any longer. You needed to let him go, if only for a short while. You kissed him one last time, a lingering promise between you both, before pulling away reluctantly.

"I'll be waiting for you," you said, your voice steady despite the storm inside your chest. "I know you'll win.”

With a final, lingering look, Marcus kissed your lips for the last time. “Go back to the palace before they find out you are gone.”

You nodded, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. The reality of the situation hit you all at once—tomorrow would change everything. Marcus’s life hung in the balance, and there was nothing you could do but wait and trust in him.

“I’ll go back,” you whispered, pulling away from his embrace reluctantly. The cold air of the room seemed to hit you all at once, and the walls felt smaller, enclosing around you as you stepped away.

Reluctantly, you turned to leave. The door closed behind you with a quiet click, and the silence that followed felt like a weight pressing down on you. Every step away from him was a struggle, but you had to return to your brothers' watchful eyes, to the prison of the palace where they kept you safe, yes, but at what cost?

The night felt endless as you made your way back, every sound magnified in the stillness. You slipped inside your quarters, the shadows of the room wrapping around you like a cloak.

The dawn arrived far too quickly, casting a pale light through the narrow windows of your room. The silence of the early morning felt suffocating, the weight of the coming day settling over you like a thick fog. You lay still, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, unable to summon the strength to rise.

What if he doesn't make it out alive?

The day of the fight arrived, the arena packed with eager spectators. The air buzzed with excitement and bloodlust as the crowd roared for their favorite gladiators. You sat in the imperial box, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched Marcus step into the arena, his armor gleaming in the midday sun.

He looked up at you, his gaze steady and unwavering. For a moment, it was as if the crowd didn’t exist, as if the two of you were the only ones in the world.

Geta leaned toward you, a wicked grin on his face. “Enjoy the show, dear sister. It may be the last time you see him standing.”

You ignored him, your eyes fixed on Marcus as the gates to the arena opened, and his opponents emerged.

Two gladiators, seasoned and ruthless, stalked toward him, their weapons glinting menacingly. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices deafening as the fight began.

Geta's smug expression faltered as the fight progressed. Caracalla leaned forward, his lips pressed into a thin line. They had underestimated Marcus. He wasn’t just their general; he was a force of nature, unrelenting and unyielding.

Your heart raced with every clash of swords, every grunt of exertion. When one opponent fell, another rose to take his place. It was as though they were testing Marcus, pushing him to his limits, but he didn’t falter.

A particularly vicious challenger came at him with a spear, forcing Marcus to dodge and roll. The crowd gasped, and your breath caught in your throat as the blade skimmed his armor, drawing a shallow line of blood.

“Do you see how much he bleeds for you, sister?” Geta’s voice was low, meant only for you to hear.

You didn’t answer, your eyes glued to Marcus. His movements slowed for a brief moment as he wiped the sweat and blood from his brow, but when he straightened, his resolve burned brighter than ever. He caught your gaze, and in that instant, it was as if the rest of the arena disappeared.

He fought for you, for the life you both longed for.

The final opponent stepped forward, a hulking brute armed with a massive sword. The crowd fell into a hushed silence, the tension thick in the air.

“Come on, Acacius,” you whispered under your breath, gripping the fabric of your gown so tightly your knuckles turned white.

The battle was brutal, each strike echoing through the arena like a drumbeat. Marcus moved with precision and strategy, using his smaller size and quicker reflexes to outmaneuver his opponent. The fight dragged on, the brute’s strength clashing against Marcus’s endurance.

Then, with a burst of speed, Marcus ducked under a wide swing and plunged his sword into the man’s side. The brute fell to his knees, and the crowd erupted in deafening cheers.

Marcus stood over his fallen opponent, his chest heaving, his armor streaked with blood. The herald stepped forward, announcing his victory to the roaring masses.

Geta scowled, his hand tightening around the armrest of his throne. “So, he wins,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Marcus turned to face the royal dais; his sword lowered but his gaze unwavering. “Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla” he called out, his voice carrying across the arena. “I have won this fight, as promised. Now I claim my prize, your sister as my wife.”

The crowd fell silent, awaiting Geta’s response. He rose from his seat, his face a mask of reluctant acceptance. “Very well, General Acacius,” he said, his tone clipped. “You have proven your worth. Take her.”

The silence that followed Geta's words felt like an eternity, heavy with the weight of what had just been declared. The air was thick with anticipation, and every eye in the Colosseum seemed to be on you. You stood there, still in the royal box, your heart pounding against your ribs as the realization hit you. Marcus had won, but the price was not just his life, it was your freedom.

Freedom was wherever he was.

You had been raised to understand the weight of loyalty, of duty, of family. But the fire that had burned between you and Marcus, the undeniable connection, had created a chasm between you and your brothers’ demands.

With each step Marcus took toward you, you could feel the eyes of the crowd on you, the pressure mounting as Geta’s scowl deepened.

“Don’t make me regret this, General Acacius.” Geta sneered as Marcus reached the steps, his voice laced with venom.

“I will not,” Marcus replied, his voice low. He climbed the steps of the royal box, his eyes never leaving you. When he reached you, he extended a hand toward you, strong and yet gentle, as if offering you not just a way out, but a promise of something more.

“Come with me, my lady.” he said softly, his voice breaking through the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you.

You hesitated for a moment, looking between your brothers and Marcus. Caracalla’s gaze was colder than ever, while Geta’s expression was twisted with frustration. It was clear neither of them had wanted this outcome. But they had given their approval, and now, there was nothing left for you but to make your choice.

Without a word, you placed your hand in Marcus’s. His grip was firm and reassuring as he helped you down from the royal box and onto the arena floor. The crowd erupted into cheers, their admiration for the general evident, but all you could hear was the steady beat of your heart.

“I do,” you whispered, the weight of everything, your family, your duty, your past, melting away under the intensity of his gaze.

“Do you truly wish to be mine, my lady?” Marcus asked, his voice a mix of challenge and tenderness as he gazed down at you, his hand still holding yours.

The days following the battle were a whirlwind of preparations, but not the kind you had ever imagined. While the Colosseum was still abuzz with the echoes of Marcus’s victory, the grand celebration your brothers had envisioned was coming. Servants ran through the villa, gathering flowers, arranging fine fabrics, and preparing for the grand ceremony that would take place the following day. But amidst all the anticipation, Marcus had quietly arranged something more personal, a moment just for the two of you, away from the expectations, away from the people, and away from the watchful eyes of the world.

A ceremony where only the two of you would be able to be part of.

No witnesses, but only the eyes of God.

The morning sunlight poured into the room, illuminating the soft hues of your garments as the servants busied themselves around you, adjusting folds and fastening clasps. You stood still, gazing out the window as they worked, your thoughts swirling between the ceremony last night and the new reality of soon-to-be Marcus’s wife.

The quiet hum of their chatter stopped abruptly, drawing your attention to the doorway. Marcus stepped in, his eyes locking onto yours with a look that seemed to quiet everything around you. He was dressed simply, not in the regal finery expected of a groom, but in a dark tunic that spoke more to his strength than his status.

His presence commanding yet calm. The servants turned to greet him, bowing their heads respectfully.

“May I have a moment with my lady?” he asked, his voice steady but kind.

The servants exchanged glances, then nodded, bowing their heads again before retreating from the room. As the door closed behind them, Marcus crossed the space to you, his steps unhurried.

“You seem a vision of grace this morning,” he murmured, his eyes taking in the sight of you.

You turned to face him, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “You flatter me, my general.”

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the fabric of your dress. “It seems they left a task unfinished,” he said softly, gesturing to the loose lace at the back of your gown.

Before you could respond, Marcus stepped behind you, his hands deftly taking the lace and beginning to knot it. His touch was gentle, yet firm, the brush of his knuckles against your back sending shivers down your spine.

“There,” he said, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. “Perfect.”

His hands lingered for a moment before he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder, where the silk of your dress met your skin. The warmth of his lips lingered, leaving your heart pounding.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his breath sending a thrill through you.

You turned slightly, your gaze meeting his. “Marcus…” you started, but the words seemed to fail you.

He straightened, his expression softening as he cupped your cheek with one hand. "Are you ready?" He asked gently.

You nodded, though your heart beat faster at the thought of what he had planned. “What are we doing?” you asked, curiosity stirring within you.

With a smile, Marcus held out his hand, the familiar strength and tenderness in his grip making your heart swell. "Come with me," he said softly, leading you out of the room and down the hallway, away from the bustle of servants and preparations.

You followed him through the villa’s quiet halls, your feet barely making a sound on the marble floors. Finally, you reached the private garden at the rear of the villa, a secluded spot surrounded by towering columns and vines heavy with flowers. The air here was cooler, calmer, and the scent of blooming jasmine filled the air.

This was where he had chosen to steal a moment for the two of you, where there would be no prying eyes, no expectations, just you and him.

"Acacius, what are we doing here?" you asked, your voice filled with wonder.

He turned to face you, his eyes shining with something deeper than just love, a sense of peace, perhaps, or gratitude. “Before we stand in front of everyone tomorrow, I wanted to share this moment with you.” he said, his tone low and sincere.

He reached for your hand, gently pulling you towards him. “This is our wedding, our vows,” he continued, his words soft but filled with unwavering emotion. “I don’t need the crowds to tell me I’m making the right choice. I just need you.”

A tear welled up in your eye at his words, the depth of his love and devotion overwhelming you. Marcus cupped your face with his hands, the touch warm and grounding.

“I know we can’t avoid the grand ceremony tomorrow,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “But here, in this moment, with no one else around, I want to give you all of me. You are my heart, and I want to vow myself to you, not in front of an emperor, not before the masses, but just to you.”

With his words, Marcus dropped to one knee, the powerful general you had come to admire now humbled by love and sincerity. "I stand before you today, not as a general, not as a man of Rome, but as a man who has found his purpose in you. You are my courage, my calm, and my reason to fight for something beyond duty. I vow to protect you with my life, to honor you with my actions, and to cherish you with every breath I take. Whatever battles may come, I will face them with you by my side. From this day forward, my heart belongs to you, and you alone."

"I..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you stepped closer, your hands trembling as they reached for him. You cupped his face in your hands, your eyes searching his for any trace of doubt. But there was none. There was only a quiet strength that matched your own, a promise you could hold onto for a lifetime.

"Acacius," you breathed, and this time, it was your turn to drop to your knees before him, your heart too full to be contained. You touched his face gently, as though afraid the moment might shatter if you touched him too hard.

"I vow to you as well," you said, your voice gaining strength with each word, your heart swelling with an emotion that could no longer be contained. "I vow to stand by your side, no matter what comes. I will be your strength when you need it, your peace when the world feels too heavy. I will love you beyond all else, in every way, in every moment. You are my heart as much as I am yours, Marcus. And I will spend every day proving it to you."

Marcus took your hands in his, his thumb brushing across your skin in a gesture so simple, so intimate, that it felt like a promise in itself. "You are everything to me," he whispered. "And from now on, your protection is my biggest battle to fight.

[lara-cairncross]

Saw the rottmnt Separated AU with Leo and Mikey and instantly fell in love. Are there any headcanons that ya have avout the AU that ya wouldnt mind sharing with us??

Love ya drawnings! Hopa ya having an wonderfull day/night!!!♡

i'm glad you're enjoying it! :D and uhhhhhhh yeah i have a few ideas i can share that i think are cute, this whole thing is literally just vibes anyway lmao:

Leo still loves magic in this au! his favorite place in the Hidden City is witch town, and a ton of the witches living there absolutely adore him and Mikey

Mikey's stuffed rabbit is named Usagi (which may or may not be plot relevant)

when it’s too cold/dangerous for them to stay outside or in their usual hideout, Leo will take Mikey to the Mystic Library and they’ll stay in the kids’ section, since it’s somewhere warm they can nap without having to worry about being bothered by cops or whatever. they’re technically not supposed to do that, but the Bat Librarian has a soft spot for them and turns a blind eye to it lmao

the Bat Librarian “accidentally” leaves a Japanese sign language guide laying around in the kid’s section after she learns that Mikey is partially mute, which Leo finds and uses to teach them both :>

the only people Mikey feels comfortable enough to talk to are Leo (duh) and Hueso (eventually)

Leo and Mikey picked each other's names :)

whenever Leo and Mikey turn up at Run of the Mill Pizza (usually just to say hello or hide from the police lmao), Hueso will pretend that he made too much food or that a customer didn't pick up their order and give it to the boys so it "doesn't go to waste"

Leo gets sick really easily and it scares the fuck out of Mikey every single time-- especially since Leo is usually the one going scavenging for the both of them, so Mikey has to take over that responsibility to find food/medicine and he's way more likely to get caught (and he won't be able to talk his way out of trouble)

no matter what, Leo always manages to find Mikey more art supplies whenever he runs out of it :)

you have a good day too! 🩵