#there would have to be some reason that the sign was put up

[bi-writes]

What do we think about price x young!Wife reader who is kept away from the team (for obvious reasons) and when she is on base to bring some important files to his office, world collide

I think it would be really cute if she gets mistaken for a recruit

he's not moving fast enough for you.

you roll your window down even more, sticking your head out, and you slide your sunglasses down your nose so you can meet eyes with the muppet standing guard at the gates.

"repeat that for me?"

"you're not on the list," the man repeats. he narrows his eyes at you. "all guest personnel must be approved before they enter. i don't make the rules, but i do enforce them."

you raise a brow. your manicured finger slides down the steering wheel, tracing the leather of it, and you let out a deep breath before laughing humorlessly.

"okay. i need you to get on your stupid radio and get captain john price on there. then, you're going to tell him who exactly is waiting here, and then after he informs you that you will let me through, i'm going to make sure you spend the next two weeks scrubbing fucking toilets." you sit back in your seat. you don't mean to be rude or mean, you're usually very kind and very considerate, but you are about to blow the roof off of your patience after the day you've had, and you just want to drop john's things off and go.

the guard scoffs, picking up his radio. he rolls his eyes at you before he goes back into his little office. after a few minutes, he comes back out. his eyes are on the floor, and he comes up to your window and gives you back your id. you toss it into your purse, and he clears his throat nervously.

"i-i'm so...i-i'm so sorry, mrs. price, i--"

"save it."

you put your car in drive and step on it. the purr of your pretty german car leaves the guard in the dust, and you park haphazard, taking up two spots, but you just grab your purse and john's papers and turn the car off anyways.

you're mrs. john fucking price. you'll park how you please, and they can get over it.

you're dressed more casually. you're wearing dark green cargo pants, a white t-shirt, sneakers, and one of john's army-green jackets. when you see yourself in the reflection of a window, you realize you kind of dressed appropriately for the setting, without even meaning to.

you open the door to the building john texted you about, and you walk in with your sunglasses still on. there's a lot of desks around, offices, an ugly mess of couches around a tv that a bunch of recruits are playing team fortress 2 at. they're whooping and yelling, but you pay them no mind as you follow a sign towards the office number john gave you.

you bump right into a big chest. you stumble backwards, scoffing, and you pull your sunglasses off as you tip your head back and glare up. there's some big, giant bear-man standing in your way, and he isn't moving.

"excuse me," you say firmly. "do we have a problem?"

the big dude tilts his head to the side, like he's sizing you up (which is stupid, since he's probably bigger than anyone). he's wearing a DIY skull mask, something messily sewed and painted with thick fingers, and you really want this halloween-enthusiast to get the fuck out of your way so you can leave as soon as possible.

"we? i don't got a problem."

his voice is deep. all gravel, very low, and his tone is very condescending. you may be smaller than him, but your teeth are sharper.

you're sure of that.

"but you've got one," he continues, narrowing his eyes. "those nails aren't regulation."

"excuse me?"

"you heard me."

"i did, but you must be fucking out of your mind if you think i answer to you."

"listen 'ere," the man spits. "i'm a fuckin' lieutenant, and y'r gonna talk t'me like i'm one before i have y'r arse--"

"get out of my way!" you snap at him. "as far as i'm concerned, i outrank every single idiot in this entire fucking building. i don't care if you're a sergeant, a lieutenant, i don't care if you're fucking royalty! move, or i'll make you, so help me god."

"simon."

at the sound, the bear turns around, stepping aside. when peek around his arm, you see your husband, arms crossed over his chest casually as he leans against the wall. he's got a relaxed smile on his face, boonie hat tipped back a little.

"well, this isn't how i wanted you two to meet," john chuckles.

"what, you know this meathead?" you scoff, and the lieutenant, simon, snarls like a dog at your response.

"simon, this is my wife."

simon steps back from you as if you'll sting him. he swallows, his face relaxing under the mask, and you glare at him. you don't expect an apology from someone like him, but you guess the way he reverts his eyes from you is the equivalent of it. you don't think a man like him ever feels out of place or threatened.

"love, this is my lieutenant."

"the lieutenant."

"quite right."

you let out a harsh breath through your nose. you don't say anything more to simon, just give him your back as you walk past him towards your husband. you don't say anything more to simon; he's saved your husband's life before, so he can be let off easy.

this time at least.

when you lift your hand to give john some papers, simon zeroes in on the giant rock on your left hand, the several carat diamond that sits there.

fuck.

"next time you need something from home, i'm gonna need the red carpet rolled out for me, understand me, john?" you tell him. john smiles, crow's feet deepening, and you narrow your eyes. "say you understand me, john."

"mhm. i understand."

"i don't mean just making sure my name is on some list, i mean an escort and a voss water. in the glass bottle."

"of course, sweetheart."

he bends to kiss you, and you let him. you put a hand under his jaw, thumbing at his beard, and the hat covers the way he lets his tongue slip out and into your mouth. if you didn't have an audience, the taste of tobacco on his tongue would be enough for you to kneel and suck his cock, but he's busy, and you have a hair appointment to get to.

you pull away slowly, touching his bottom lip.

"you better be home in time for dinner," you say. "seven. don't be late."

"won't be late."

his baby blues are so bright, even in the awful fluorescent light. you kiss him again, cupping the back of his neck, and when you pull away, you put your mouth to his ear.

"your office? got ten minutes?"

"no, sweetheart," he murmurs. "don't have it."

"john..." you grip the sides of his tact vest, pouting. "please? please?"

john sighs, shaking his head. he kisses your forehead before nodding behind you, to his lieutenant that still won't leave.

"walk her out, simon. make sure she leaves alright."

"olright."

simon opens your car door for you, and when you get in, you shove your seatbelt into place, angrily starting the car up again. you're having a bad day, and you're horny now.

"goodbye, lieutenant," you say smartly. "by the way, there's some smartass at the front that i told would have to scrub toilets. i trust that you can carry that out for me."

"'ow long?"

"told him two weeks, but i think a day will do just fine."

"'n why's tha'?"

"well, i'm not mad at him anymore, but i'm still a price. and price's follow through on their threats, lieutenant."

you put your sunglasses on, and the window goes back up. simon watches with rapt attention as you pull out with a rev of the engine, and when he glares at you, you smile, raising your hand to flip him off.

the big diamond on your hand blinds him as you drive off.

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ THE BISHOP & HER QUEEN ᝰ! S.L.

your superhero love story with kate bishop sophia!

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ ❪ ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠. ❫ ｡ katebishop!sophia x f!r 𖥔 fluff, hawkeye au ── disclaimers: mentions of violence, trauma, injuries, kissing, harsh language, enemies to lovers, yelena belova!reader ／ ℭatalogue

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, of all the enemies you’ve faced during your time as an assassin/spy, is the hardest to kill for some odd reason. she was one quick, stupid little amateur

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, who was so offended the first time you refused to fight her because you “didn’t have time for it”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, whose mentor was the one you were really looking for in hopes of getting some answers regarding the whereabouts of your sister. when you broke into the underground training facility her frequented, instead of finding him and torturing the answers out of him like you had initially hoped for, you found her eating pizza

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA shot up with her mouth full and her cute chow chow, charlie nibbling on some crusts

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, who scrambled for her bow on the opposite end of the resting couch behind the boxing ring. by the time she had her weapon in her hands, you were already gone, no longer standing where you were mere seconds ago

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, who couldn’t put up much of a fight when you pinned her to the ground in the flash of an eye

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA’s bow and arrow being kicked as far as you could with her under your knee. you leant down, shushing her as her dog barked feverishly at you. once she ceased her grunts of struggle, the hand you had pushing her head into the wood let go. you asked, “where’s barton?”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, “why the fuck would i tell you?”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, who mumbled curses and yelled at you to get off as you looked around for any clue or signs of the man you were hunting. when you noticed a surveillance camera at the very corner of the gym, you turned back to her

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, who promised to not making any stupid decisions when you started playing with charlie, scared you’ll hurt her big, fluffy boy if she made the wrong move

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who shot death glares at you as you sauntered around and examined the place, she rubbed her sore neck as you took in every detail you could, all the while eating a stolen slice of her sausage and mushroom pizza

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA absolutely hating your guts

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA immediately whining to clint about you pinning her to the ground with ease once she warned him of your arrival. for somebody who just heard they were being hunted down, he was very comfortable teasing sophia for her lack of skill when it came to physical altercations

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who started training harder after

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA did lots of research on you, initially finding nothing, you were a nobody with no records and no names (which frustrated her to no end) until she snuck into the cia compound with clint once for a mission and found your file amidst those of wanted fugitives of the nation

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who disliked you more upon reading your file; you were wanted in more than 40 states, for crimes like treason, massacres, and terrorism. not a single police force in any of those states, with help from fbi, cia and secret services has anybody successfully been able to catch you. so she made herself a promise then and there

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA vowing if she ever saw you again, she’d be ready--she was going to put you away forever so you wouldn’t be able to hurt clint, or anybody else for that matter

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who goes to the gym more often

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who forced clint to help her better her agility, her speed and her aim. she was getting much better by the second month since her run in with you

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who found out about the red room through clint. she did her own research, reading about the horrific and tragic simulations young girls and women were subjected to for the sake of creating the perfect weapons. there were two names at the top of the best graduating classes of the programme--natasha romanoff and you, named the deadliest pair of siblings, dead or alive, internationally

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who came home one day to you

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA immediately drawing her bow, her glossy lips pursing at the smirk you threw her way. you had a pot in your hand, stirring whatever was inside casually, as if she weren’t one release away from kebabing you in the heart

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA clenching her jaw, muttering, “what the fuck are you doing here? how’d you know where i live?”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA feeling like just killing you before you can answer when you laughed at the question. you rose the fork, licking off whatever cheese was on it as you stared right at her. you smirked at the visible gulp from her. you set the pot down onto her dinner table, grabbing the bottle of sriracha. you continued prepping your meal, unfazed by the sharp tip pointed straight at you. “you’re cute, baby archer. you should really learn some survival skills, if you had people following you, you’d never know.”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, taken aback by your statement, felt her hands shake at the tightening grip she had on her bow

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who had no choice but to put down her bow when you started feeding charlie some mac and cheese. “you’re a smart girl, laforteza, i trust you know you’re putting more than yourself in danger if you keep pointing that little toy at me.”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA standing still. “what do you want?”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA rolling her eyes at you explaining your grudge with clint whilst playing with charlie. the poor chow chow was a sweet dog, but right now he doesn’t seem to realize he was playing with the enemy. “i’m not here for you, laforteza. i work off an eye for an eye. and barton owes me his.”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA insisting there is another way for you to get even without killing him. you shook your head at her pleads about him having a family, a life, yaddy yaddy yaddah, you kicked the chair opposite to you, gesturing for her to sit

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA obeying your instructions, sitting

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who whistled, finally getting her hands around charlie to keep him away from you. the dog hesitantly leaped away from you, tail wagging and traces of mac and cheese around his lips and panting tongue

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA not being able to do anything when you stood to leave, pushing the empty pot towards her. you gave her a cheeky peck at the corner of her lips, hand patting her cheek. you blow her one last kiss before waving goodbye, dropping out the window and disappearing into the night

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA hating herself for letting you go that night when you left her apartment

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA had a feeling you would be coming by her apartment again one way or another. her and clint were no longer training together because you had tabs on her, which meant she could lead you to him. she could tell you were growing desperate because she was keeping her own tabs on you; she found out the fake identity you used off the id she swiped from you last time, and she tracks your paper trail

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA greeting you with a smile the next time you snuck into her home. charlie immediately pounced to greet you, pawing at your knees and licking your hand. you glanced up at her, reciprocating the smirk she was throwing your way. “well, look who’s all dolled up for me… am i really the special girl in your life, laforteza?”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA kicking her pizza box towards you. “you loved my order the first time we met, thought i’d save you a couple slices.” you nodded, amused at the foreign behaviour

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA leaning over her couch, urging you to sit and you do. what can you say, you loved a woman who bosses you around. her hands grabbed the back of the couch, standing over you from behind as her head dipped to whisper in your ear, “look, cherry gordon,” she spat your fake name like it was venom, “you’re going to stop looking for my friend and you’re going to sit here because shield is on their way. we’re gonna have a chat here, and you’re gonna listen up.”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who thinks she has the upper hand, which you found absolutely adorable, but was so oblivious to the fact you’re always one step ahead. but you thought she was too adorable to ruin the fun for, so you let her feel like she knew what she was doing for another fifteen minutes

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, who was super offended when you asked her if she was done with her little spiel

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who didn’t even have time to react when you grabbed her neck that was over your shoulder. you flipped her over, standing from where you sat to pin her over the coffee table. you had her in a headlock, leaning down to, just like she had, whisper in her ear: “i’ll give it to you, baby archer, you found more than i thought you would when i left those little crumbs for you to nibble at. the thing is, i’ve found barton for weeks already. i’m just here because i couldn’t resist seeing you again--also, i brought you a gift, since you so kindly welcomed me into your home with the best kraft i’ve ever had.”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA sighing in defeat at you managing to pin her again. she wasn’t one to give up, but she wouldn’t want to embarrass herself more by struggling and failing to free herself from your grasp

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA getting tied up, like a good girl

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA being strapped to a chair with a bruise forming around the cut on her forehead. her head hit the table a little too hard, but she was putting up a tough front for the sake of her aura. you grabbed her a bag of peas from the freezer, holding it up to her head as you cooed. “oh poor baby, you bruise like a peach,” you pouted, tending to her head, “if you didn’t try acting all cocky like that, this wouldn’t have happened. i did think it was incredibly cute, but i left more than three hints here and there.”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who was scared you had already hurt clint, but you assured her he was safe--“oh, barton? he’s just fine, laforteza, don’t worry. as long as you sit and listen for the next…” you check your watch, “ten minutes? before the shield team you called shows up? they’re horrible agents, really, just absolutely terrible.”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA unsure of what to do, but obeys

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA not knowing if you were still trying to kill her or if you were just hitting on her so she calls you out on it. you laugh at the suggestion, “kill you? honey, when have i ever tried to kill you? if i wanted to kill you, you would’ve been long dead by now.” she was stupid, she knew you were right

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who couldn’t understand why you were treating the bruise on her head, but you started talking

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who couldn’t help but feel her heart race more than just because of the adrenaline, but because you were practically sitting on her lap as you spoke: “y’know, i really am flattered i seem to be on your mind, laforteza. food is the way to a woman’s heart,” you nodded towards the pizza, “but you’ve been such a delightful nuisance, i can’t have you tailing me and making my life just that bit harder anymore. so as much as i’ve loved this little game we’ve been playing, i’m making it clear it has got to stop.”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA, noting the closing proximity between the two of you, she could hear the blaring sirens in a distance, as well as the helicopter buzzing closer with each passing second. you didn’t fret, very calm and collected

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA who watched you set the bag of peas on her lap before bidding her the last few words; “don’t worry, archer, i’ll be back when i get the agents off my back. until then, take care of yourself and little dani… i named him dani, i think it’s fitting. thanks for the pizza.” you leant forward, kissing her, long and slow on the lips. she didn’t flinch, she didn’t reject you--given, you already knew of her little crush when she acted like a boy picking on a girl on a playground--instead, she closed her eyes, savouring the taste of your lips on hers. deep down, she regretted calling shield now, even though you tried killing clint. she couldn’t wait to see you again

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA looking like a teenage boy who just got his first kiss, jaw dropped and in disbelief as you pulled back, hand tracing from her jaw down to her chest. your nail against the lining of her suit, she felt her skin crawl. you blew her a kiss, folding your fingers in a small wave. “until next time, cupid. try reading a spy 101 book, you might learn a thing or two about being subtle and secret.”

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA feeling her stomach flutter instead of churn watching you leave

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA feeling her bounds loosen

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA realizing you never tied her up in a dead knot, but was still found and humiliated in front of all the shield agents as she wrung herself free. she had to explain herself to the agents, and they were not happy to leave empty handed after the promise of returning to their headquarters with you in cuffs

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA desperately trying to find a way to contact you after, silently praying you’d come by her home, but she knew her place would be heavily surveilled. and she knew you were much smarter than that, you were no novice

✵ KATEBISHOP!SOPHIA misses you… will you swing by?

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ ❪ 𝖈alliope 𝖘peaks! ❫ 。 oh kate bishop sophia, how i long for the day i get to see you… thor!dani is probably next on my list so LESSSGETITTTT anyway hope you guys are enjoying the hero posts so far i’ve had a lot of fun making them. happy reading! xx

@sillymommy6969 © ──────────── Feb 2025

[midnight-mourning]

Love Bites

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 8💘💘

Okay okay okay, back on track now, please enjoy this little diaster i made based on @divinit3a's yeti boys, it was, quite fun >:3c

Prompt: umm letseee... valentines...Typically the Sun is not Out.... (for... Reasons... ahah.) but----loves to hunt, and hunt for the thrill/sport/game of it. And loves to eat & eat & would love a properly cooked meal. preference to high protein meals, very rich, very tasty, salty & fatty. so Im sure if u wanted to tackle him, in particular, could have fun with that..... (Slaps a giant fish on the table. Token of affection. Totally Wont Eat You ) The Moon.......... is a lot quieter and subdued, but actually a far better caretaker. takes care of hurt animals; would probably take care of a hurt human, too. mmm hot cocoa. much pickier eater, he doesnt like much, and he doesnt like to eat meat.... I think overall, a 'meal together' would be the best valentines fhgjsdfghjsdf WITH THESE FREAKS IN PARTICULAR...

Word Count: 2907

Read here if you prefer ao3!

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

The hall is quiet as you step out from your room. You strain to listen for any sign of life, nothing. Must be out. Good. That gives you more time. 

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the shadowed hallway, not nearly as bright as your windowed room. Though, you weren't opposed to keeping the lights off. It saved energy for one—which meant warm floor beneath your feet as you pad through the facility—and two, it kept the not as friendly yeti from making an appearance. Which, yourself and Moon were both in agreement about at least. 

When you'd first gotten here, so many months ago now, your first encounter with the yeti, robot, thing—you still haven't quite figured that one out—was less than, pleasant. Though, that may very well have been due to the state he first saw you in. Which was bloodied, bruised, and vulnerable. And as Moon would later explain it to you, that had triggered something in counterpart. Something more instinct than logical. 

Luckily for you, a ragged chase into a darkened cavern had saved you from suffering any further injury, or worse. 

Instead, you got Moon, and he was thankfully much calmer than the other bot. He also wasn't trying to kill you, so you took what you could get. He patched you up, gave you a place to stay, a nice warm bed out of the cold, and plenty of things to do while you recovered. 

When you'd first ventured out into the snow, having heard the rumors of the 'ice devil' you'd be facing, this hadn't been what you'd expected. 

Delivish upon first glance, sure. Those tusks didn't help anything, that's for certain. Not to mention Sun as a whole, the manic energy he radiated, the wild look in his eyes, the raw strength as he'd pinned you down to "Try a bite"—

But still, with Moon at the very least, the rumors didn't match up. 

He was quiet, even a bit stern in certain cases, but polite. He took his directives very seriously, but beyond that, he held a compassion you wouldn't ever have expected of a machine. Though, maybe it was because he was a bit more than that, they both were. 

Regardless, you owed him for not abandoning you out there in the frozen tundra to die. Much less putting in the effort he had to care for you.

As you traverse the hall now, there's only the slightest pain still left in your ankle as you shuffle. You'd left the crutches behind today, as you had been the past several mornings, despite the lunar-themed yeti's insistence for otherwise. 

That was another thing, the care. For a so-called devil, he had the attitude of a saint. Or well, you didn't know any saints, so a good friend then. A very good friend, at that. 

You found yourself in long conversations that would last hours, either listening to that quiet tone regale you with stories of all his travels, or sharing some of your own experiences prior to meeting them. You enjoyed the walks you'd take together through the caverns, or going with him out into the arctic—on the rare trips he would allow you with your injury—to scout for poachers and the likes. 

And those rare moments you could get him to laugh at one of your jokes, it lit something inside you that you couldn't describe. Something that albeit would be a bit more frightening than it already was if not for your situation. 

You think the combination of getting your foot caught in a bear trap, freed and then chased by a rabid yeti-bot, and then saved by the other side of that same yeti-bot, allowed you some freedom when it came to your feelings. 

But that wasn't the point to what you were doing. Rather, you wanted to show your appreciation for Moon, not your feelings. Nevermind the fact that today did just so happen to be Valentine's, having found out by checking the date on your half-dead phone. 

Besides, You didn't even know if it was even possible for him to return such affections. Truthfully, you preferred not knowing if it meant you could keep this peace you've had for so long now. You were almost afraid for when you fully healed. 

Afraid that the moment you could leave, you'd be kicked out, back into the cold to survive to find your own way back to society. That the past few months were nothing but a ruse, set up by Moon and in fact once you were at a good range, your back turned and unaware, Sun would bear down on you and—

You shake your head, no. Despite your initial encounter, Sun had been fine. He wasn't allowed out much, so you didn't speak much, though you also think he would prefer not to. It didn't necessarily have to do with you in particular, you don't think. 

Whereas Moon was more oriented to stay on task, Sun had his own personal drive to fulfill. You'd yet to figure out exactly what that was yet, however. Besides the desire to hunt and kill just for the thrill of it. Whatever it was, with your injury, you simply didn't fit into it. You had no use—for now—so he left you to your own devices. 

For now. 

You flip on the light to the kitchen area as you enter, dimmed lighting now illuminating the space. 

You'd been surprised to find there was indeed working cooking equipment in the research station. Not originally all in the same space, but with a bit of help, you'd dragged everything functional into one space. 

When it came to ingredients, you didn't have much to work with besides what either yeti brought to you. There was some very old canned food you'd found, and several containers of unopened spices, but beyond that it was slim pickings. The crate of hot coco you'd found had been a godsend. Considering the situation though, you weren't going to complain. 

The idea of making a meal had come from the simple fact of the matter that beyond hunting and protecting, Moon nor Sun did much else. So, providing nourishment would have to be your way to pay back their hospitality. Or at least, Moon's hospitality. If Sun enjoyed something you made, you'd consider that in and of itself a victory.

So, you set to work immediately. Opening the fridge, you pulled out one of the the few items in there, a massive bluefin tuna, which took up the majority of the space. You struggle to take it out, much less carry it with wobbling limbs over to the island. When you put it on the counter, you almost swear you hear it creak under the weight. 

You step back and let out a breath, admiring the giant fish for a moment. While the two really only ate for fuel—a fish like this would just simply be devoured as is from what you'd seen—you knew they could taste, and that when presented with chances to try something that was flavored in some regard, they did seem to enjoy it. Especially Sun, having taken one bite of your beef jerky and snatching the rest away for himself when you'd not been paying attention. 

Though you only had the one fish and just a few other ingredients to work with, you had several ideas in mind for how to properly utilize it. Taking the large butcher knife, you cleaned, gutted, and scaled it, and divided it up into proper pieces. 

The loin you'd make steaks out of, pan searing and basting in fats, utilizing the bit of pepper and spices you had available. You set aside three to cook and stored the rest in the freezer. 

The back you would smoke, creating some jerky from the pieces there. Thankfully, Moon kept firewood around in case the power failed entirely, and you doubted he would notice a few pieces going missing. You'd utilized one of the broken freezers for your smokehouse. 

The belly would be raw, sliced thin and served with a bit of the salty roe that you'd discovered inside the fish initially. 

As for the remaining bits of the fish, you'd stew the bones for a broth and fry the collar and cheeks as one final touch to finish off the meal. 

It was a lot, all things considered, and for them it may very well be next to nothing in comparison to their appetites, especially Sun's. But, that wasn't going to deter you from trying your best to make something from your heart. So, you got to work. 

You had no idea when Moon would return, so you tried your best to work both quickly and effectively. Thankfully, since several items were basic prep, they took very little time to come together. You enjoyed it, the process overall. After all the time being spent on you, being able to give back felt gratifying in its own way, exciting even. Again, ignoring your own feelings about the yeti. 

At some point, you even find a small radio, the batteries still good to your delight. Despite your location, you can just barely catch a signal as sappy love songs play from some far away station. You hum and dance and sing to the music as you cook, the time passing by like nothing to you in your focused state. You even are able to make yourself some hot coco, sipping on it throughout the cooking process. 

You're so focused, even, that you don't notice the towering presence hovering around the other side of the counter until you turn directly to face it. You were just setting down the last bit of the meal, ready to sit and wait for Moon's return, so color you shocked when you find yourself face to chest with Sun instead. 

His head cocked to the side as he looks down at you, expression unreadable as he examines you with that calculated stare.

"You've been busy." He states. 

You come out of your daze, shaking your head. "I-yeah. I have."

"Tore up the meat. A pity. I was going to enjoy that." He picks at one of his claws, you see a hint of red stained there before he glances back up to you, grin wide. "Though, it's not nearly as good as when it's fresh, anyhow."

You both know that fresh isn't quite what he's implying. 

You swallow, while you'd been expecting Moon—and would have preferred him, especially in this case—this was technically a gift for the day-themed yeti too.

Deciding you weren't going to let your lingering fear overtake you, you straighten up, and steady your voice. "This is all for you, actually. And Moon, of course. I, wanted to extend my thanks for, allowing me to stay these past few months." This again was technically all for Moon, but you couldn't exactly say that with Sun standing right in front of you. 

"I—Me?" He questions, eyes widening and grin falling. 

You nod. "Yeah, I um, figured that something made with a bit more care might be something you guys liked. I noticed you never really get the chance to... add more flavor to things, and you seemed to like my snacks in the past so, i just—" You stop when you find that he's eye to eye with you now, baring down on you with a serious expression you weren't anticipating. 

"You made us, me, a meal?" The way the words are half-snarled mere inches from your face makes you flinch. 

"Y-yes?"

Sun stares at you for a bit longer, and if you weren't so alarmed you'd move away. But you don't. 

After a few moments more, he huffs, then starts to chuckle, standing straight again. "Aren't you just so interesting, Little Star?" 

You feel confusion knit your brows only for them to shoot up in shock as Sun's hand suddenly grasps your chin, leaning in again. 

His other hand snatches one of the pieces of raw fish from the table, eating it in one bite. "Such an offering from you is, surprising but, despite your, obvious misconceptions about our relationship, I suppose I can consider it." He tilts your head this was and that. "You're not the worst option I've ever been presented with."

"I, huh?" 

He let's you go again, grabbing one of the steaks with his bare hands. His teeth tear through it like it's nothing. You can only watch as you try to understand what he's saying, not entirely comprehending it. 

When he's finished, he wipes his mouth, snickering to himself. "I certainly can't wait to see what he thinks of your proposition. I'm sure it will be entertaining to say the least."

Before you can respond, he walks over to the light switch, dimming the lights as low as possible, thus allowing for Moon to take his place. 

As the switch occurs, Sun makes one final remark, and it all finally clicks to you. "Something you should keep in mind though if I do accept, Sunshine, is that I don't share."

With that, you're left with an embarrassing realization, and Moon. 

You can't make eye contact with him, instead turning around and starting to busy yourself with cleaning up to distract from the burning feeling spread across your cheeks. 

You can't believe you didn't put together that something like this would mean something like that to them. But it's not like you would have known either! How were you supposed to understand the cultural differences between humans and yeti-robots that lived in abandoned research centers? This feels like something that was on them and not you to be honest. 

Your half-delusioned reasonings do nothing to stop the racing in your heart as you clean, and you just hope to finish up quickly, grab a snack for yourself, and get out of there to keep yourself from any further embarrassment. 

"It's very good, Starlight."

You pause for a moment, then hum. "Y-yeah?"

"Yes. The amount of flavor you've packed into each dish is... incredible." Moon says, sounding genuinely a bit in awe. 

It only worsens your state, mumbling back a quiet response. "I'm, I'm glad you like it."

Quiet between the two of you. The radio still plays softly throughout the space, only disrupted by the sound of clinking as you clean things up, or Moon's utensils scraping against each other. 

"So what Sun said—" "You should eat too—"

You both stop, and looking back to him, you laugh softly. 

You nod. "You first."

"Join me." He pats a seat next to him. "It's only fair after the effort you've put in."

"Oh! Okay." 

You try not to make a fool of yourself as you make your way over and sit down. You can only protest as Moon piles you a plate full of food, depositing it in front of you once he's finished. 

He hands you a fork, chuckling at the scowl on your features. "You need your energy too, if you want to stand any chance at getting better."

"You're not wrong." You sigh, taking a bite of the smoked fish. As you'd hoped, it's delicious, and you appreciate your own efforts to make such good food in that moment. 

"So,"—Moon reaches for a bit of the fried collar—"You were saying?"

You almost choke on the bite you just swallowed. You regain your composure to answer. "I, um, Sun mentioned, that um, something like this was very, very, important to you guys in a specific way. Which, honestly I didn't know and I'm so sorry if I've offended you I just wanted to do something nice—"

You're interrupted by a kiss pressed to your forehead. 

"I would say offended is nowhere close to the feelings you've elicited. Honestly." The night-themed yeti states, amusement between the words. "Rather, I find myself rather interested in your proposal, intentional or not."

Your eyes widen ever further. "Pr-proposal?"

"If I'm misreading, then I am sorry, Star. But I—"

"No!" You shake your head, trying again. "No, you're not um, misreading. But again this wasn't my intent at all. I'm definitely all for it. I mean, to a point you know, sorry this isn't something I ever expected to happen but I really do like you, a lot and—"

Instead of a kiss, a piece of tuna is pressed into your mouth, and with how good it is you can't say for sure that you'd prefer the kiss or not. As you chew, a slight scowl on your features, Moon laughs. It makes your heart flutter for a moment. 

"I really like you too. I wasn't sure that you'd feel the same, so I didn't act on those feelings. But, since you've shown that you clearly feel something,"—He snickers as you shoot him another glare—"For me, I'm more than happy to make it clear to you now."

"Gee, thanks." 

Another kiss is pressed to your hair, arm wrapping around you and you welcome it, snuggling into the warm fur next to you. You grab a piece of tuna, munching on it to hide your fluster in that moment. 

"And since he's already said it, I will too." Moon's voice is right next to your ear in that moment, low but lethal. 

"I don't share either."

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

Thank you for the request @divinit3a!! I had lots and lots of fun with the yetis and i can't wait to see what else you do with them yourself, i may perhaps do a bit more when I find the time hehehehe

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

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[madridfangirl]

But what if?

(Plot: Jude's girlfriend mentioned a threesome as her fantasy during a couple intimacy quiz. He goes mad, loses his shit, and she makes up to him, in more ways than one.)

1.5k words. Mature language.

..................................................................................................

After a rambunctious session on the couch, Ananya laid in Jude’s arms. Exhausted. Like she’d fall apart if even a feather touched her right now.

Jude surveyed her spent form, with a half-satisfied and half-guilty look. Her body bore the signs of his emotional upheaval, more than usual this time. She was still panting a bit, still sweaty, despite him cleaning her as gently as he could.

Both were silent for different reasons. She was trying to regain coherence while he was partly lost in his head.

A few minutes later, she recovered enough to open her eyes and saw his faraway look. Her fingers traced his cheek softly, bringing him back.

‘Hey.’

She smiled lazily at him. Stretching her arms & legs tentatively & sighing at the soreness. His observant eyes watching every move.

‘Sorry.’

She snuggled closer, while continuing to smile knowingly.

‘Liar, you like making a mess of me.’

He did. A lot. It was a reminder of their passionate bouts. He liked her having to use make-up or dress smartly to hide his marks. Or walk funnily a bit. But just a bit. Not too much. Never too much. 

The sincerity & turmoil in his eyes tugged at her heart. She leaned in to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

‘Baby, I’m ok. More than ok actually. Really, don’t worry about it.’

He nodded. But didn’t kiss her back like he usually would have, something she noticed. Plus he was still avoiding her eyes.

She understood he was still not over the threesome comment. In hindsight, it was monumentally stupid of her to even mention it. Especially when it wasn’t so much a fantasy but a random idea she had thought of, just once or twice. For someone so measured with her thoughts & her words, who was supposed to be the smart one, she acted like a complete idiot here & made a royal mess of things. Jude would take it badly, it should have been clear as day to her!

But the damage was done, and she’d do whatever it takes to show him it didn’t mean anything.

Ananya held his cheek and turned him slowly to face her, gazing straight into the deep bottomless pool that were his eyes. 

‘I love you. So much. More than I can explain. You know that, right?’

He didn’t say anything, which turned her more desperate to get through to him.

‘Oh Jude. Have you ever felt anything else but absolute loyalty from me? You’re everything, honey. More than that. You’re so good to me. Just the best boyfriend, hands down. Pls don’t let one stupid mistake play on your mind.’

‘But you don’t make mistakes, not really. You say what’s in your heart, what you really, truly mean.’

And therein lied the problem. Jude always put her on a pedestal - to say the right thing, to do the right thing, to handle things the right way. To him, she was the personification of all things good, pure & real in the world. Something like this coming from her was more than a low-blow or a bodyblow. It nearly shattered him.

‘Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone. Some lesser than the others but no one is flawless. Today was my turn to fuck up. And man did I fuck up.’

‘You really did.’

‘I know. And I’m so so sorry.’

He didn’t acknowledge the apology, not because he wanted to tease her or get something in return (that would have been so much easier), but because he was still stuck on something. She could see that clearly.

‘Do you…think about this….when we….when we are…’

She cupped his face with both hands, mustering all her love in her voice.

‘Jude - I am barely coherent when we are together. When you touch me like that. Can’t think of my own address, how would I think of anyone or anything else?’

Now this assuaged him immediately. Because he knew this to be true. Once they were together in her room, indulging in each other, when Roma had walked in. Their door was unlocked, she heard her walk into the apartment but forgot her name and Jude had to prompt to understand what she was mumbling. So far gone was she with him so perfectly seated inside her. Later, she had begged Jude to never mention it to Roma, else her best friend here would get offended. Ananya had also added that if he does mention it, she’d flat out deny & call him a liar. Her word against his.

The hint of smile on his face was all the wiggle room she needed.

Ananya leaned closer, relishing his breath on her face, and covered his lips with hers. A soft, slow, lingering kiss, which he grew into, finally relaxing into her mouth.

‘My prince.’

When they parted, she rubbed her cheek against his, just the way he liked. Jude relaxed further.

‘It’s just that….the image…of that….can’t get it out of my head.’

She saw that coming.

‘I can help with that.’

‘How?’

‘How about a different image?’

He looked at her, confused, mouth partly open. So cute & adorable like that. She traced his plump lips with her fingers lovingly, slowly, then tapped on them.

‘What if instead of another guy, there’s another girl…’

Jude’s mouth fell open in real time. She could barely suppress her smile at how well she had predicted this. 

‘…another girl, touching me like that, our bodies squished together, naked…..’

It was his turn to pant & sweat now, with that deliciously open mouth. His hot breath fanning her face.

‘…but you can’t touch either of us…’

Jude felt like someone was murdering him & reviving him simultaneously. He was speechless, not even a half-sound out of him, just staring at her gobsmacked.

‘…you can watch though. As we, you know, do stuff. How’s that for an image?’

He was still silent. That sinful tongue of his had made an appearance between his lips, as he tried to process that, mouth still hung open.

She felt particularly playful, strangely powerful in that moment. Ananya leaned in and slowly touched his tongue with hers, then tugged on it lightly with her teeth, quickly breaking away.

That brought him back to reality.

He looked in awe at his girlfriend, who was slowly batting her eyes at him, cheeks flushed, a picture of innocence and demureness. If he hadn’t heard this himself, he would never believe she was capable of saying such things. Or thinking such things.

But the sly smile was giving her away. Fully aware of what she was doing to him.

‘Not such a good girl anymore, are you?’

Oh she was. 100%. Compared to him & everything he had done, she was a saint. But the playfulness from earlier was still brimming in her.

‘Never said I was. You just thought of me as one.’

‘You little vixen.’

Jude looked her up & down. And debated in his head how feasible it would be to show her right now who was in charge. She may have cracked a few levels of this game but Jude was the absolute undisputed king of this dynamic, something he would never let her forget. Something that she needed to be reminded of. Against a wall maybe. 

But unfortunately, she was in no state for such a teaching right now. Jude wasn’t going to miss the chance to make his point though.

He locked his eyes with her, then inserted two of his fingers into her mouth. She was surprised, but slowly got used to the intrusion, and swirled her tongue around them, making him groan gutturally, like a wounded animal.

He grabbed her face, fingers digging into her soft skin. But his voice was calm, even. 

‘Sweet girl, I’m gonna ruin you. I’ll take everything from you. Everything that a man can take from a woman. And you’re gonna want to give it to me. Heck you’re gonna beg. I’ll make you.’

She suddenly felt hot & bothered, like her skin was on fire, making her whimper as his grip tightened further.

‘No man will ever see you like that. Touch you like that. I won’t let them. No one but me. NO ONE. Is that clear?’

‘Yes.’

‘See - I know how to turn you into a good girl. Just like that.’

She wanted to push him away for that patronising tone but somehow it just made her feel even more hot.

‘You can play all you want. Till I let you. Coz when I take my turn, doll, you have no idea the things we’ll do. The things I’ll do to you. This sweet little mind of yours can’t even imagine what all I have planned for us.’

With that, he picked her up slowly, minding her cramps & soreness, and carried her to his bedroom. She clung to him, hiding in his neck to cover her fluster, while all the previous irritation in him was replaced with the thrill of this game he had just discovered her to be capable of.

......................................................

Continuation of Couple Intimacy Quiz and Intimacy Quiz gone Awry. Can be read separately as well.

As always, let me know what you thought of it :)

[myerssimp21]

Iceberg's Jewel pt. 1

This is just another idea rattling around in my head! While this is still yandere Batfam, the premise is slightly different—here, they haven’t quite met you yet. The focus starts with Oswald Cobblepot and the Iceberg Lounge, but trust me, the Batfamily won’t be far behind. Timeline-wise, this would technically come first, even though in my other yandere Batfam fics, Tim and Jason have already had their moments with you. So yes, there will be a plot hole later where they’ve somehow already hooked up with you—just roll with it. Consider it canon-ish, but mostly just me playing around with ideas. tl;dr: This is a prequel of sorts to my other yandere Batfam fics, but I’m mostly here to have fun with the concept. Hope you enjoy! 💙 word count: 3201

Oswald Cobblepot prided himself on running a tight ship. The Iceberg Lounge was a beacon of opulence in Gotham, catering to a clientele that wanted their danger with a side of champagne. When he put out that little “Help Wanted” sign as a joke—an amusing way to signal to the people he was looking for that he was ready to onboard—he hadn’t expected someone like you to waltz in.

You were nervous but bright-eyed, clutching a copy of your résumé (how quaint) in one hand, wearing a Gotham University sweater that screamed student loans and part-time hustle. The smile you gave him when he walked into the lounge floor was disarming—too genuine for this city. You asked to speak to someone about the janitorial position, and Os had to bite back a laugh.

“A janitor? Here? Sweetheart, you might be too good for this place,” he muttered under his breath, too quietly for you to hear, before waving a hand dismissively at one of his goons. “Send her to my office.”

His office wasn’t where interviews were usually held—far too personal, far too… revealing. But for some reason, he wanted to gauge you himself. Maybe it was your naivete; maybe it was the way your gaze lingered on the crystal chandeliers and plush carpets like you’d never seen luxury this close before. You were looking at him as a normal boss, not a criminal mastermind, and he realized he might like that.

By the time you’d been seated in the chair across from his polished mahogany desk for only 15 minutes, he was already hooked. He asked simple questions at first—your availability, your experience—but quickly veered into territory that let him know more about you. Your classes at Gotham U were interesting, but you worked too much to fully appreciate them. You loved your psychology major but struggled with scheduling, hoping that the pay here was more than the measly pay you scrounged from your other two jobs. He listened with great interest as you spoke of your genuine excitement to be working in a "classy place like this."

He didn’t have the heart to tell you this place wasn’t really classy—just good at pretending.

Cobblepot tilted his head, the curiosity in his expression sharpening as he tapped a finger against the arm of his chair. “You’re not from here, are you?” he asked, a sly grin forming. “So, what do you think of our little city?”

“Oh, uh…” You laughed nervously, shifting in your seat. “It’s… something, that’s for sure. Gotham’s kinda like… I don’t know, a scrappy mutt? It bites, like, a lot, but you can’t help but wanna pet it anyway. It’s scrappy and loveable.”

Oswald chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “Lovable?” he repeated, shaking his head. “You’re a strange one. Most people run for the hills when it comes to Gotham.”

“Yeah, well…” You shrugged, the faintest smile tugging at your lips. “I’m already here, so I might as well figure it out, y’know? Plus, it’s not all bad. I mean, the people are tough, and the city’s got… personality. A weird, messed-up personality, but still.”

He found himself appreciating your honesty. It was a rare thing in his world—people who weren’t either trying to butter him up or wring him dry. And that smile… Hm. Something about it didn’t belong here.

Then, the door to his office slammed open. A goon stumbled in without so much as a knock, huffing like a dog chasing its own tail as he fumbled a thick stack of papers in his hands.

Oswald snapped to attention so fast it was animalistic. One second, he was relaxed, bemused by you—the next, his face contorted with fury, his lips curling back in a snarl that made the dim office feel suddenly suffocating.

“What?” Cobblepot snarled, his tone cutting like ice. The very air in the room seemed to turn electric, humming with the promise of violence.

The goon froze mid-step, eyes darting between you and his boss. He looked like he’d just walked into an execution chamber by mistake.

Oswald’s teeth clenched so tight a vein throbbed visibly in his temple. “You knock before coming into my office,” he seethed, voice dropping to something far more dangerous than the initial explosion. Cold. Calculating. A blade slipping between ribs. “You wait. You don’t—”

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw you.

Frozen.

Wide-eyed.

And just like that, the change was immediate.

His snarl vanished. The storm passed in an instant, like flicking off a switch. The barely-contained rabid rage that had been twisting his face smoothed into something almost… embarrassed. Guiltily casual.

Cobblepot glanced back at you, then at the goon, then back at you. For a brief, telling second, he looked—not regretful, but calculating. Then he sighed through his nose, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off an unpleasant thought.

"Handle it later," he ordered, voice abruptly warm. Silk-soft. As if he hadn’t just been inches from taking a man’s head off. His hand flicked lazily toward the door, a dismissive gesture. “Can’t you see I’m with someone?”

The goon scuttled out of the room like a kicked dog, the papers in his hands rustling violently as he clutched them to his chest.

The moment the door shut, Oswald let out a measured breath, as if centering himself. Then, in a whiplash-inducing shift, he turned back to you with an awkward, almost sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that,” he said, voice dripping with artificial sweetness, as if his outburst had never happened. He waved a hand, dismissing it entirely, his gaze keenly watching your expression for any lasting tension. “Some of my employees just don’t have any manners.”

You offered a polite, thin smile, still shaken, but brushed it off with a shrug. You had already figured this place wasn’t exactly warm and welcoming, but the speed at which his fury had vanished was... unsettling.

Oswald noticed.

He noticed everything.

And for the first time in a long, long while… he wasn’t sure if he liked the way your smile still had a hint of nerves clinging to it.

The Batcave was unusually quiet, save for the faint tapping of Tim’s keyboard and the low hum of the monitors. Bruce sat at the console, watching the live feed from Oswald Cobblepot’s office. You were seated across from the Penguin, a mixture of nerves and polite excitement etched on your face. The Iceberg Lounge’s chandelier lights reflected in your wide eyes as you gestured animatedly, your Gotham University sweater and résumé betraying your earnestness in a city that thrived on deception.

“Can’t decide if she’s brave or just clueless,” Tim remarked, leaning back slightly as he toggled between camera feeds. “She walked into Cobblepot’s lair with a résumé. A résumé, Bruce.”

“She’s a student trying to make ends meet. That’s not bravery—it’s necessity.”

Damian’s voice crackled through the comms. “She really responded to a ‘help wanted’ ad? Tt. Typical. Of course that bloated bird would choose a naive one. She’ll probably end up scrubbing vomit out of his VIP lounge carpets.”

Tim tutted thoughtfully at Damian’s comment. “I mean…..he’s probably aiming higher than janitorial work for her. Did you hear the way he sweetened his voice?”

Damian scoffed but didn't reply. 

A new voice broke in over the comms—Dick, speaking from his position on patrol. “You think she knows what she’s getting into? Working there isn’t exactly safe.”

“She doesn’t,” Bruce answered simply, “But that doesn’t make her unique. Plenty of people stumble into Gotham’s underworld without realizing it. We can’t save everyone.”

Tim muttered, “Still doesn’t mean we should ignore it. If Penguin’s targeting her for something, we’ll want to know why.”

Damian chimed in again, his tone slightly mocking. “We already know why, Drake. He likes his toys naïve, optimistic, and disposable. She won’t last a week before she gets a reality check—or worse.”

Bruce’s eyes flicked toward the feed as Cobblepot stood, offering you a hand and gesturing toward the door. “They’re moving,” Bruce said. “Tim, keep the office feed rolling, and find another camera angle.” 

“We won’t have audio and depending on where he’s taking her, I’m not sure we’ll have visuals either.”

There was a moment of silence, the kind that spoke volumes in the Batcave.

Dick broke it. “She’s smart enough to know what Cobblepot is, right? I mean, who walks into the Iceberg Lounge thinking it’s just a nightclub?”

“People who don’t know Gotham,” Tim replied, scrolling through files, soaking in what he can on you. “..She’s a psych major at Gotham U, full-time. She’s been juggling two jobs already, so she’s probably just desperate for the paycheck.”

Damian’s tone turned sharper. “Desperation or not, she’s still a fool. You don’t wear a sweater with your university’s name on it when you waltz into the lion’s den.”

Tim smirked. “Guess she didn’t take Gotham’s prerequisite: Street Smarts 101.”

The screen now displayed the empty office, Cobblepot’s desk abandoned. You were out of their sight, and for the moment, out of their reach. But the Batfamily wasn’t about to let you disappear into the darkness of Gotham without a trace. Tim was scrambling to find a feed that would give them info as to where Cobblepot’s taking you, but at the very least, they have relevant info on you.

Dick’s voice again. “Did you hear her in that interview? ‘Lovable but scrappy.’” He smiled faintly at the words. “She actually likes Gotham. We should keep it that way.”

Tim again, confirming some details. “Transferred to Gotham U from out of state. No criminal record, no red flags.”

Damian’s voice cut in, sharp and dry. “Other than walking into the Iceberg Lounge with a résumé. That’s a red flag for stupidity.”

Dick countered, his tone softer now. “She doesn’t know any better. Give her a break.”

Jason laughed, his voice snarky over the comms line from his own patrol. “Oh, sure, Grayson. Let’s all gather around and shield her from the big bad city. What’s next, care packages?”

Dick sighed audibly, “Don’t you have a crime boss to scare right now?”

Jason chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Already done. You should’ve seen the look on his face. Priceless.” Another faint noise came through, likely the reloading of a gun.

Bruce’s voice cut through before Dick could respond. “Enough. Focus, Jason.”

“Whatever you say, B,” Jason replied breezily, though the teasing lilt was still in his voice. “I’ll keep an eye out, too, just in case our scrappy little friend stirs up any trouble at the Iceberg.”

Damian snorted. “I’ll enjoy seeing Cobblepot’s face when she quits.”

Bruce didn’t respond right away. His eyes lingered on your face, captured mid-smile on the monitor. Quietly, he murmured, “She’ll need another job. A safe one. I’m sure Wayne Enterprises will have something available for her.”

“Keep me updated,” Batman ordered as he stood, his cape swishing as he headed toward the Batmobile. “If she gets in over her head, we’re pulling her out. No debates.”

Damian’s voice came back, quieter this time, reluctant. “She’s already in over her head.”

Little did they know, Oswald Cobblepot’s schemes for you were the furthest thing from exploitative labor. In his mind, the idea of you actually toiling away with a mop and bucket was quickly becoming unthinkable—borderline offensive, even.

The moment he saw the way your eyes sparkled with hope and determination, and saw the way you'd listed your good grades on your resume in a hopeful attempt at impressing him and proving your aptitudes, he’d decided he’d let you sleep on the job if you wanted to. Hell, he’d set up a whole suite in the back of the Lounge if it kept you close and content. You could waste time dusting the empty liquor shelves or filing nonexistent paperwork all day if it made you feel productive. What mattered to him wasn’t what you did—it was that you were here, where he could keep an eye on you.

But of course, Cobblepot wouldn't admit that to himself. Not yet, at least. No, this was just “good business,” he rationalized. You were a valuable asset—your charm and friendliness were enough to lighten up even the Iceberg’s darkest corners. You had a way of making the whole place feel... welcoming and warm, like you were untouched by Gotham’s grime and crime. Plus you wanted to be productive. He scoffed under his breath, amused. Of course one of the first fresh faces ready to work at the Lounge was also someone who he didn’t dream of involving in his actual operations. Just his luck.

So, if you decided you needed an afternoon nap in the dusty janitorial closet? He’d send a goon to bring you a pillow. If you scoured the cleaning supply catalog for hours without actually ordering anything? He’d find it endearing. As long as you were happy and oblivious to the underworld swirling just beneath the Lounge’s polished surface, you could do whatever you wanted.

Unbeknownst to them all, while they debated your safety, Oswald was sitting back in his office, already plotting ways to make your life easier. Sure, he’d keep up the charade of being your boss for now—keep you busy with harmless tasks so you didn’t get suspicious. But he wasn’t about to let you work too hard. Not his sweet, naive new hire.

You didn’t belong in Gotham’s shadows. And as far as Oswald Cobblepot was concerned, he’d make sure you never had to find out just how dark they could get. Or at least, he’d try. 

By the time Oswald walked you to the janitorial closet—a tiny, forgotten room in the back of the lounge—he was already plotting how to keep you close. The closet was practically empty, a detail that normally wouldn’t bother him, but the way your face fell at the sight made him want to slap whoever was supposed to manage the damn place.

"Um… is this where I’m supposed to… work?" you asked softly, your voice unsure as you peeked into the empty closet. Your eyes darted around, taking in the barren shelves and dusty floor, as though you’d missed some hidden stash of supplies. "It just… doesn’t look ready yet?"

"Ah… this won’t do," he said quickly, covering his irritation with a smooth smile. "Looks like someone’s dropped the ball here. Don’t you worry about this, darlin’. I’ll get one of my guys on it—someone reliable. You’ll have everything you need to get started." 

His tone was honeyed, and though he aimed for casual reassurance, his sharp eyes flickered to the shelves like he wanted to set the whole closet ablaze for offending you. For fuck’s sake.

“No, no, this won’t do at all,” Oswald said again, shaking his head and clucking his tongue like he was personally offended by the state of the janitorial closet. “You deserve better than this mess, darlin’. I’ll have it sorted by tomorrow, you have my word.”

You blinked at him, “If you want me on the job today, I can make something work,” you offered tentatively, gesturing toward the dusty shelves. “I’ve been in worse spots before.” You gave him a sheepish smile, trying to seem accommodating.

Cobblepot scoffed softly, waving a dismissive hand. “No, no, absolutely not. I won’t have my new employee starting off in such... subpar conditions. It’s a poor reflection on me, and I can’t have that, now can I?” He straightened his tie with an air of exaggerated importance before leaning on his cane. “Here’s what we’ll do instead. You take the night to get familiar with the Lounge—on the house, of course. Have some drinks, relax, mingle a bit. Consider it my way of welcoming you to the team.”

You blinked again, even more confused. “Oh, um, that’s really generous, but shouldn’t I, like… fill out some paperwork first? Or sign something?”

Oswald chuckled, a warm, low sound that almost made you feel silly for asking. “Paperwork? We’ll handle all that boring nonsense tomorrow. No need to rush into the dull parts of the job, eh?” He gestured toward the door, ushering you back into the main lounge. “For tonight, enjoy yourself. Swing by the bar, meet some of the staff, maybe say hello to the security team. It’s important to me that you feel comfortable at the Iceberg.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was some sort of test, but his expression was disarmingly sincere. “Well… if you’re sure…”

“Positive,” he interrupted, clapping a hand on your shoulder with surprising gentleness. “Now, off you go. The night’s young, and the Lounge is at your disposal.”

As you stepped out of the closet and back into the opulent main floor, you glanced over your shoulder to see him watching you with a smile that seemed too genuine for someone of his reputation. You didn’t know him, but you’d heard some things. 

Unbeknownst to you, Cobblepot wasn’t just offering you free alcohol or a night to relax—he was staking his claim. He wanted you to feel at home, to see the Lounge as a safe haven, a place you’d always want to return to. Sure, there’d be paperwork eventually, but for now, the only thing that mattered was keeping you here, comfortable and unaware of the darker dealings hidden beneath the glamour.

Tim leaned back in his chair, toggling between the camera feeds inside the Iceberg Lounge. He was alone in the Batcave now, the others out on patrol in the city. “Well, there she is,” he muttered, zeroing in on his view of you at the bar. You were perched on a sleek barstool, your Gotham University sweater a stark contrast to the high-end fashion of the Lounge’s usual clientele. “She’s… drinking. A lot.”

Jason, freshly back from patrol—or what little of it he actually bothered to finish—sauntered into the Batcave, pulling off his helmet and setting it down with a thud. “That’s her?” he asked, nodding toward the screen.

“Yeah,” Tim replied without looking away. “You decided to show up?” His eyes flickered to the time down at the bottom of his monitor. "Thirty minutes early? B's not gonna be thrilled."

Jason ignored the jab, stepping closer to get a better look. “Huh,” he muttered, crossing his arms as his sharp eyes drank you in. You were laughing at something the bartender said, your cheeks flushed. You gestured animatedly with your glass while saying something they couldn't hear. “She doesn’t look like much.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, glancing up at Jason. “That’s what you cut patrol short for? To see her in person?”

Jason shrugged, his gaze fixed on you. “I was curious. Heard you and Damian going back and forth about her. Figured I’d check it out for myself.” His lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Didn’t expect her to be… this.”

Tim tilted his head. “This what?”

Jason gestured vaguely at the screen. “This… normal. Sweater, messy hair, drinking like she’s celebrating her midterms being over. Doesn’t scream ‘Iceberg Lounge material,’ y’know?”

Tim chuckled, toggling to another camera feed for a better angle. “That’s kind of the point. She thought she was interviewing for a janitorial position, Jason. Janitorial.”

Jason blinked, then snorted. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was,” Tim said, leaning back in his chair. “She walked in there with a résumé—an actual paper résumé—and asked about cleaning floors or whatever. Cobblepot probably laughed his ass off before offering her a drink.”

“He’s footing the bill by the way,” Tim added, toggling to a feed that showed the Penguin subtly watching you from across the room as he conversed with some guests. “She hasn’t reached for her wallet once. He’s just… letting her.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he studied the Penguin’s expression. There was no malice there yet, no obvious scheme in motion. Instead, Cobblepot looked almost… satisfied, like he was pleased with what he was seeing. “The hell’s his angle?” Jason muttered, his top lip curling in disgust at the possibilities.

“No idea,” Tim replied. “But if I had to guess? He’s trying to butter her up. Make her think the Lounge is a safe place, keep her happy and oblivious while he decides what to do with her.”

Jason scoffed, leaning back against the console.”She won’t last a week.”

Tim smirked. “You’re awfully invested for someone who just met her. Maybe you should prep a care package.”

“I didn’t meet her,” Jason shot back, though his eyes flicked back to the screen almost involuntarily. “I’m just saying, someone needs to give her a reality check before she gets eaten alive.”

“Maybe,” Tim said, watching as you swayed slightly to the music, chatting with another patron who’d joined you at the bar. “But she doesn’t look like she’s in danger. Yet.”

Jason grunted, pushing off the console and grabbing his helmet. “Yeah, well, I’m keeping an eye on this one. If Penguin tries anything, I’m ending it.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re helping? Didn’t you just skip the last half of your patrol?”

Jason smirked as he turned toward the exit. “Hey, monitoring Gotham’s underworld is part of the job, isn’t it? I’m just doing my part.”

Tim shook his head with a laugh as Jason disappeared up the stairs. “Sure you are.”

Back on the screen, you were oblivious to the scrutiny, to the way the curiosities of Gotham's vigilantes were beginning to blossom into something more.

[marlynnofmany]

Spice in Space

“Of course your food is a biohazard,” Zhee said while the security scanner approved our delivery.

“The label’s just a precaution,” I said. “Pretty sure this is mostly pepper.”

“Right, yes, the food flavoring that gives your meals the flavor of fire.” Zhee tilted his head, bug eyes looking at everything at once while managing to roll sarcastically. “Not a hazard at all.”

“I don’t mean the really spicy kind,” I said as the box slid out of the scanning machine. “Just the regular spices to sprinkle over eggs and whatnot.”

Zhee picked up the box in his pincher arms. “Right, because eating fire-flavored unhatched creatures is a perfectly normal thing to do.”

I laughed and followed him out into the spaceport. “It is where I’m from!”

“Absolute maniacs, all of you,” Zhee declared with a flick of his antennae. “Now where is that food stall? The briefing said it would be tiny.”

“Tiny and close,” I agreed, looking around. Once past the security checkpoint, this place was a riot of booths and pedestrians with an artsy wave pattern on the ceiling that seemed to dampen the sound. It wasn’t as loud as most spaceports I’d been in.

“I see a directory,” Zhee said. “Let’s just check that.”

“Wait, there it is!” I pointed to a little kiosk between full-sized restaurants. It only held enough room for tubs of ingredients, a gigantic hot plate, and the guy currently scraping food around on it with flair. The sign said “Earth Fry.”

“Of course,” Zhee said, moving toward it. “I should have just looked for the fire.”

As we maneuvered through the crowd of Strongarms, Mesmers, and miscellaneous others, the guy tossed the food with his spatula, caught it deftly in a takeout box, and handed it to the customer waiting at the side: another human. No surprise there. By the time we arrived, he was ready to greet us.

“Hello! Can I interest you in some Earth Fry?”

Zhee held up the sealed package. “We have Earth ingredients for you. Apparently they are hazardous.”

“Oh! Yes, thank you! That’ll be the hot sauce and other stuff.” He took the box and found a flat surface to put it on, then accepted the payment tablet I held out for him. “Thanks for being so fast. Somebody got a bit clumsy during the lunch rush and knocked over a few things. Paid for ‘em, but I can’t get all of these local.” He signed for the delivery while I tried to place his accent. Australian?

“Luckily we were just coming from a trade hub,” I said. “This stuff is straight from Earth.”

“Excellent. It’s been a while since I was home, and you can’t beat the real thing for spices.” He handed the tablet back.

“Very true,” I agreed. “Where are you from?”

“Melbourne,” he said while I congratulated myself on guessing right. “Still getting used to how little any of that matters out here. To the average offworlder, Earth is one place with one type of person.”

“And we’re all lunatics who eat poison, right?” I agreed with a sly glance at Zhee.

He spread his pinchers. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Hey now, the garlic is only poisonous to some creatures from Earth,” the guy said, pointing to an airtight tub. “And the onions. If you want the real toxins, the alcohol stores are that way.”

Zhee looked at the ceiling. “It’s like you all have a death wish. Or take pleasure in hurting yourselves.”

“Some of the pain tastes good?” I said with a wave toward the hot sauces.

At the same time, the guy said, “There’s a reason they call us space orcs.”

I laughed. “Do they still? I wouldn’t think enough people even know what an orc is.”

To my surprise, Zhee recited, “Mythological creature from your planet, famed for strength, durability, and lack of foresight. Rumors do go around.”

“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” I said.

“Nobody thinks that’s funnier than my family,” said the Australian. “I get no end of jokes about it. Especially from my mom’s side — she’s from the US, and thinks we all say ‘space’ funny.”

“Does she?” I asked. “Interesting word to focus on.”

“Right? She insists that it sounds like ‘spice,’ and I just don’t see what she’s on about. But!” He held up a finger and fiddled with his collar. “That did lead to my favorite shirt.” With a dramatic sweep of his overshirt, he bared a bright red T-shirt that said “Spice Orc.”

I burst out laughing. “That’s fantastic!”

“Mom was pretty proud of herself for this one,” he said. “Gave it to me for my last birthday.”

Zhee declared, “Appropriate. Entirely in character for your species.”

“And we even brought you spice!” I laughed.

“That you did!” he said, resettling his clothes. “Care to try some? The shredded beef dish is particularly tasty.”

I looked at Zhee, then turned back without waiting for a response. “We’ve got a couple minutes. I’d love some. With extra garlic, please!”

“Coming right up!” He spun his tongs like a gunfighter, and began tossing ingredients onto the hot plate where they sizzled madly.

Zhee just grumbled and looked put-upon, but didn’t object. I planned to make a big deal of enjoying the tasty fire-and-poison meal on our walk back to the ship.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[tricoloreddango]

Yandere Phainon sabotaging reader’s relationship

contents: gaslighting / gender neutral reader / mention of the death of the readers’s cat/ word count: 1k

The relationship you had with your boyfriend might not have been the most exciting, but you thought of it as satisfying enough… just the fact it let you live a stable and predictable life was enough to be comforting and not leave you lonely. Your relationship hasn’t started a long time ago, but you assumed it was going into a right direction.

However, Phainon wasn’t having it. He’s been consistently trying to prove it to you that you have settled down just for a bare minimum or has been bringing up things that (in his humble opinion) were red flags. This wasn’t any different when you invited Phainon over for tea.

He looked around the kitchen, noticing a spill of coffee beans on the counter. “Is this his mess?”

You nodded. “Yes, I’m sure he’d clean it any other day. He just had to leave early for work,” you shrugged. You decided to change the topic, before Phainon would start telling you how you shouldn’t have to clean up after your own boyfriend. It was an innocent mistake from him, as he usually did his share of work. Phainon would still probably say something along the lines of “Even if, this is just the beginning—”

“He bought me flowers today,” you bragged to your visitor, sounding happy—not expecting your friend to soon make you lose that feeling. “What flowers did he give you?” he asked curious, smiling for your enthusiasm. “Roses,” you responded.

Suddenly, your friend looked disappointed, killing your smile. “Roses? Look, it’s nice he got you flowers. But aren’t peonies your favorite flowers?”

“Yes, but… he still didn’t have to give me any outside of occasions,” you muttered.

Phainon disagreed, “No, no. If he was buying them he might as well had picked the ones you like. It means he doesn’t really care about what you want but about what he wants and expects you to be grateful. Roses are so cliche and boring. He’s not romantic in any way.”

The look of uncertainty, wondering if you should believe his words, didn’t discourage Phainon. He was ready to prove you wrong furthermore your conversation. “Well… I can always tell him that. I’m sure he’ll understand and will make sure to get me the right ones the next time? He just didn’t know my favorite.” You smiled encouragingly, hoping your friend will agree.

He didn’t. He was ready to debunk your claim. “You really think he’ll listen? If he cared, he’d have asked you about your likes first. Also, don’t you remember when you asked to help you fix a tap? He didn’t,” he said with a slight disgust.

“Yes, but he was tired! He promised me he’d do it tomorrow, I just managed to do it before him,” your voice was now frustrated. Why was he so not understanding?

“I doubt that. You had to ask him to not tighten jar lids multiple times before he eventually had stopped, or had to ask him to stop putting jars on a shelf too high for you. He clearly doesn’t care about your boundaries. Don’t you remember his reaction? You said he raised his voice at you, didn’t you?” he said with worry.

“Right, but it’s because I asked him when he was busy and I wouldn’t stop interrupting—”

“My friend,” Phainon put a hand on your shoulder, his face all soft and apologetic you had to deal with such a bad man. “Even if busy, a right boyfriend wouldn’t raise his voice, as it signals anger issues if he’s snapping at something so simple. He would have remembered to not tighten lids in the first place, and be considerate of you having less strength or you being shorter. A boyfriend who cares is the boyfriend who knows you well.”

Phainon’s words were getting to you slowly, making you have second thoughts. What if you were naive and didn’t notice signs? You trusted Phainon, he’s never given you a reason to sabotage your happiness, so surely there must be some truth to his words… which doesn’t mean hearing it all was easy. You felt self conscious at the idea of letting yourself end up in such a bad relationship or being used. Tears blurrier your vision, threatening to fall.

“But… when I ended up losing my cat, he was there to comfort me! He definitely cares! He listened to me and did things for me so I could rest! He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t!”

Phainon shook his head gently, making his voice more serious, “He was using affection to get you attached in your vulnerable moments. That has to be true, considering he normally doesn’t show you much affection? He even acts all distant.”

“He’s just not that comfortable with being vulnerable, cause he had a difficult childhood! He still gets adjusted to opening up to me but we’re getting there!” you protested, but your efforts were starting to feel useless in your perspective. Phainon might really be right—if he didn’t mind easily showing you affection during your sad day, why wouldn’t he do so any other time?

“Emotionally unavailable people don’t change. They make relationships one sided! Aren’t you tired of making yourself vulnerable while he doesn’t give you anything in return?” he scolded gently, pulling you into his arms when you were finally crying. You didn’t protest, letting him rub your back. Phainon has never let you down, unlike your boyfriend, apparently. “I think you just want to ‘fix’ him. Yet this isn’t your role. You should find someone who makes you happy, rather than someone that you have to be responsible for! Relationship should make your life easier, not burdening. You have to say so many ‘buts’ to defend him; that should be enough concerning,” he added, his voice made cashmere to comfort you.

He felt all joy and relief when you ended up nodding into his chest. He’ll gladly show you what a boyfriend model should be, as no way in any universe he’d let you be with someone else. Phainon wholeheartedly believed that only he was meant for you, and that you can be the happiest with him only—he may as well be your soulmate.

Didn’t he know your needs the most? You could ask him what he thinks you’ve eaten yesterday and he’d have no problem guessing. You weren’t aware of the extent of his knowledge about you.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monsterhunt: Caeldestiir, and her bloodless legions

A titan of ice and sorrow dwells amid the peaks of the far northern mountains, its pained cries summoning storms and avalanches. Most know to keep their distance and leave well enough alone, but the entity's bloody tears bring forth swarms of violent undead that every few years boil off the mountainside like ants from a kicked nest. Something must be done, but how will the party ever hope to challenge such a foe?

The name Caeldestiir originates with the local goliath tribe, meaning "The cold and broken god" in their tongue. In their lore, the creature is the unwanted get of some distant divinity that left it on the mountainside to die of exposure, as is sometimes done with unwanted infants in the harshest of times. Though this legend (and the creature that inspired it) has persisted for generations, the tribe's current jarl Zautho feels somehow responsible for Caeldestiir's recent disquiet, as when she was young she was forced by her family to give up a child deemed too sickly to live. Fear over the gods' judgment and the titan's building wrath has the jarl dispatching runners across the breadth of the tribe's territory, seeking signs, solutions, and allies.

Adventure Hooks:

The party encounters the first of the goliath runners in a bordertown marketplace, being hurried along by the authorities for "causing a ruckous", as they think the emmisarry is some barbarian radical preacher come to lecture them about the sins of civilization. They'll meet another in a noble's court, being given the cold shoulder after being promised a meeting.

After repeated undead incursions across their borders, those of the "civilized" lands will finally be forced to take notice, having ignored the signs for too long and losing their chance at containign the threat. ( Yes, we're doing a game of thrones reference, but unlike GRRM we're not going to take 30 years to resolve it).

Zautho might be the party's greatest ally in facing the frigid threat, but she's become distracted: convinced the rise of the icy titan is somehow the gods' punishment against her specifically. Guilt is not so easy a thing to shake off, so the aparty will have to go questing for knowledge and divine truth to shake the jarl from her despair.

Background:

Few songs are still sung about the dreadmage Feriya , of her plot to force eternal winter on any realm that did not bow to her, of the coalition of unlikely allies that marched north to challenge her army, of the heroes who gave everything to secure her defeat and bring her icy fortress crashing down upon her head.

Centuries since her defeat Feriya's wrathful spirit has yet to fade, trapped as it was in the glacial wreckage that was once the sign of her great authority. Time beyond death has distorted her, diminishing the person she was and leaving behind only her wrath, her power, and the memory of a body being crushed alive. As the distinction between tomb and entombed faded what began as a ghostly stirring has transformed into an elemental colossus, howling with the pain and fury of the north wind as it drags itself across the jagged mountain peaks, phantom bones breaking with each movement.

Mercy would be enough of a reason to put the thing out of its misery, whatever Feriya's ambitions and cruelties she did not deserve such a pained afterlife.

Artsource

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 9th of February, 2025

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 9th of February 2025

Question: How does Harry feel about Prince Louis?

This is a one card reading

Card Drawn: Justice in Reverse

Justice in Reverse is a card of retribution, dishonesty, avoiding accountability, injustice, unfairness.

Harry thinks that it is unfair that Louis was born. He is taking Louis's birth as an injustice perpetuated on him - a personal affront. In his eyes, Louis's birth was unjust, unfair, and should never have happened.

There is a sense of a personal vendetta against Prince Louis that is missing from the other two readings I have done on Prince George and Princess Charlotte. To put it bluntly, Harry hates Prince Louis's guts for no reason other than Prince Louis exists.

It is his birth that Harry has a major problem with, and the hatred he felt at Prince Louis being born has continued without abating as Prince Louis has grown up, and it has deepened with every bit of attention that Prince Louis gets from the press and from other members of the family. There is a deep and personal hatred here that is festering and growing inside Harry.

If Harry could destroy Prince Louis is some way, wipe him out of existence (short of murder), he would. If he could wind back time and stop Prince Louis being born, he would. In Harry's ideal world, the way he thinks the world should be, Prince Louis does not exist.

Underlying Energy: Strength in Reverse

Strength is the card for Leo, and Leo is Meghan's sun sign. It is also the card that some people use for Meghan and Harry together, as the traditional Rider Waite card shows a maiden (a virgin, Virgo=Harry) and a lion (Leo=Meghan) together.

Strength in reverse is the person represented by the card (Harry or Harry and Meghan) being overshadowed in some way, eclipsed, acting out of their baser natures.

This is the reason that Harry hates Prince Louis - he feels that his wedding to Meghan was overshadowed by the birth of Prince Louis.

The energy from this card is of someone - Harry -who thinks that Prince Louis stole his limelight. In Harry's eyes, here he was getting married to a hot American actress, and all the press could focus on was the birth of his elder brother's third child. Harry feels that this is not fair and it is a huge injustice, and he has hated Prince Louis ever since because of when he was born - around three and a half weeks before Harry's wedding. This includes what he wrote in Spare about Prince William wanting to go home to be with his wife and his new baby instead of greeting people outside the palace the night before the wedding (although Prince William did go out and greet people with Prince Harry that night, so this could be another thing that Harry has twisted around in his mind).

Meghan dislikes Prince Louis as well, for the same reason, as she is here with Harry in the Strength card. Both of them have a vendetta against Prince Louis for being born and having attention from the press when all the attention should have been on them and their wedding.

[xesnox]

(Post fall) Ancient builder x Illager toxic old man yaoi when

WIP, was planning on doing a ref for every human race but a mutual of mine practically begged me to post these two on their own so you’re probably gonna see this image again. Colors are not yet where I want them to be so I’ll definitely go over it a few more times.

I’d like to take this moment to point out that the way you summon allays in legends, where you play as an ancient builder, is pretty similar to the way evokers summon vexes.

Design / AU rant below cut, as always.

This one’s a little worse written than usual, I’m just rambling.

I practically have an infinite amount of Ancient builder designs because I draw them differently with every piece depending on how I’m feeling, but for this design I got more genuinely speculative and turned on my pattern recognition.

Steve and Alex are canonically 6’2, both of them, and all undead mobs seem to be the same height, if not taller than they are, so I made them average around 6’5. To add to that, all undead builder mobs either don’t have eyes or have solid coloured glowing ones, so I went with the latter.

Minecraft isn’t a stranger to making lifeforms appearances change drastically depending on circumstance, this render is of an Ancient builder post wither attack, around ancient city time, which meant I could adopt the idea the devs mentioned about villagers/illagers, of human skin turning desaturated if they stay out of the sun for long enough, which, if the single generation of Illagers already show signs of I bet the god knows how many decade long underground escapades of the builders probably hit ‘em hard with that trait.

I also for the longest time for some reason forgot cosmetics were very likely a thing, so they’ve got some protection spells and luck enchantments tattooed, both of them do. Doesn’t work very well, as one can probably guess. But they’re superstitious so it felt in character enough.

For the post wither attack Ancient builders I also tend to think of them as more frail, not only because they had no access to their former overworld food supplies and had to rely on the little stuff that did grow in complete lack of sunlight underground, which definitely wasn’t a lot, but also because beyond the military force that did seem to remain from the nether war (ancient city structure name: Barracks, disk 5 marching.) they definitely were no longer strong enough to properly defend themselves against the wither or the warden/mourner on their own accord.

And because they were cowards and skedaddled when the overworld was in danger AND got beat up by the piglin despite being the main kingdom in power which I just find really funny. So think tall and boney but hiding it under a lot of clothing layers to still appear strong. Definitely can’t put on armor anymore though, that back would snap like a twig.

When it comes to the robes I used some of my older armor template designs for reference, made them black and blue to fit the most well known ancient builder sprite as well as vaguely match the one of the evoker. Because, oh well, you caught me, I do believe the cargo cult theory. Got my own interpretation but I’ll leave it at that till the next bestiary entry.

I generally want the villagers to look more varied, and human, while the builders, both neo and ancient, look more unsettling, as if they’re clearly a person, but something just looks, or moves wrong. They’re too symmetrical. Too far removed from what once was flawed but sincerely their own.

A lot of villager beauty standards are inspired by medieval-renaissance era Europe, like for an example having a larger visible forehead and appearing more boxy in shape being seen as more visually appealing, I think despite the illagers trying to subvert that they do still live in a society, so having grown accustomed to it as children they probably still at-least somehow adhere to the beauty standards they know, whether consciously or not.

They perform similar experiments on themselves as the builders, they’re just ever so slightly worse at it, as they haven’t been doing it for as long, so it leaves marks like scarring or visible stitching, though I believe they wear these with pride.

There’s gonna be a dedicated post about them at some point, as I said so I don’t know how much of my design I want to pick apart for now, but I’ll just leave it at that for now.

Here’s some alternative versions.

[amuseintime]

A Stage of Healing

The Play is Over but the Script Remains/Scriptfrin Saga

For anyone who doesn't know, "Scriptfrin" is a Siffrin who sometimes goes semi-verbal after the loops, (mostly) only able to repeat the "script" from his time in there. I have a bit of it up here, but most of it is in this series on AO3 (though for the general concept, you can just read "Line, Please.")

Months after the loops, Siffrin and their family are walking around a town and Bonnie happens to notice samosas in the window… the thing that they had basically every blinding night in the loops. Siffrin is clearly bothered, but not in the way you'd expect. All this leads to a long talk, a one man performance, and a lot of laughs. Humor and Hurt/Comfort (heavier on the comfort).

Crossposted here on AO3.

(And always, if you like what I do, reblog, leave a comment, or maybe buy me a Kofi?)

“Oh oh oh! Guys! Look, this place has samosas!” Bonnie said, tugging them through the streets of Bagon. Even amongst Vaugaurde, the area was known for its cooking. The smells of food filled the streets, enough to make even the pickiest child consider trying something new, and the outdoor market was in full swing now that it was warming up again!

It was that perfect time of year where spring made it warm enough to travel, but still cold enough to enjoy some nice, hot food (and oh Change, being medicated again made her hungry!), or at least Mirabelle thought so! It was still too cold for Bonnie and Odile, and Siffrin kept pretty warm with his cloak, but she and Isabeau seemed to like it! 

And speaking of Siffrin, he was staring at where Bonnie had seen samosas on the menu. While they were all getting better at reading Siffrin, sometimes it was still a little difficult. This was one of those times. His head was tilted, an odd look in his eye. Not necessarily upset, but not exactly happy either. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but only a breath came out.

It wasn’t just her that noticed. Isabeau put a gentle hand on their shoulder, not minding that Siffrin jumped before settling into the contact. “You alright, Sif?” 

“Huh?” Siffrin blinked owlishly. “Ah, sorry. Was just remembering something.”

Odile’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Remembering what?”

“Remembering loop stuff…

Loop stuff? From samosas?

Bonnie jolted. “OH RIGHT!!! Crab, sorry Frin! I forgot that’s why I stopped making Samosas! ‘Cause you had ‘em every day in forever school.” 

Oh that’s right! Mirabelle had forgotten that Bonnie made samosas that day, but makes sense Siffrin wouldn’t have…

Bonnie took Siffrin’s hand to start tugging him away. “We can go somewhere else-“

“No.” He said it a bit too seriously, which he must’ve noticed as he smiled and mussed up Bonnie’s hair. “I can’t deny my Bonbon TWO of their three favorite foods!” He looked back to the shop. “Besides, I’m pretty sure they sell more than JUST Samosas. Though they might not be as… as…” They scrunched up their eye, glaring at the sign for a moment. Then their eye widened and they puffed themselves up as they said, “DE~LI~CIOUS as yours would be.”

“Why’d you say it weird?” Bonnie asked.

“I was trying to sound like Isa? It’s, uh… been a while. Since I heard that.” He trailed off again, staring into space…

Odile went over to the door and said, “Would you like to have this talk on a chair with some hot food, or would you rather keep staring through the window like an incompetent stalker?”

“Madame!” Mirabelle squealed. You can’t just?! Say that?!

But say it she did, and everyone else was laughing, even as Siffrin also tried to sink into his cloak like a turtle. 

“Yeah yeah, we should go in. But, um… I need time. To get thoughts together first? And not do this in public?”

“Reasonable enough. Now get in, I’m cold.”

They all filed inside. Only Bonnie ended up ordering the samosas, but none of them entirely missed the way that Siffrin eyed them.

————

They were all back at the nearest inn… which was fairly packed, given that spring was here. Mirabelle wasn’t the least bit surprised. After all, Spring was quite important in the Change religion! A time for new growth, a fresh start, and a reminder that while Change was destruction, it was creation too! A lot of people celebrated by picking up new hobbies, clearing out some space for those hobbies and just tidying in general (Spring Cleaning!), travel, and bonding ceremonies. 

All of this to say, there was only one room available… but Madame Odile was pretty insistent on NOT having only one bed, and somehow they ended up with three. Mirabelle made sure to slip extra tips to the poor staff, that was mortifying! Though the space was nice…

“I call Mira!” Bonnie said, grabbing her hand. She could only yelp in shock as they were both catapulted to the nearest bed, making it thunk against the wall. 

“Can I call Sif?” Isabeau said, chuckling at the not-actually-a-question. Even in the days before they saved Vaugaurde, it was rarer that they didn’t sleep together. 

Siffrin stuck his tongue out and, “Nah. Isa…” they trailed, took a quick breath in, and smirked, “Isa has to sleep on the floor.” They looked over to Odile for a moment, then jumped a few inches when Bonnie laughed instead.

“FINALLY! No more being gross!” Bonnie cheered.

“I was just joking,” Siffrin said.

“BOOOOOO!”

“Yaaaaaay!” Isabeau said, even clapping his hands and looking all sparkle-eyed at Siffrin (how had she missed that they liked each other?!) 

“Heh! Heh…” Siffrin trailed off again.

Oh Change. “Hey, Siffrin? Are you okay?” Mirabelle walked over and… wait, crab, what does she do with her hands now? Um… “Pat Pat!” Head pats, sure! Wait… Oh Change, he actually leaned in that’s??? So??? Cute?!?!

Siffrin smiled, eye shutting, and let out a sigh. “I’m alright, just…” He shuffled his feet, looking down, then up again, staring at the ceiling.

“Is this related to earlier in any way?” Odile asked.

Siffrin looked aside. “… maaaaaybe…” 

“We aren’t doing anything too close to the loops, are we?” Isabeau said. “I’m willing to actually sleep on the floor if-“

“NO! I mean, kinda, but also no? You don’t have to sleep on the floor, Isa. And it’s, um… weird.”

“Yeah, well, you’re weird! And we like you that way,” Bonnie huffed. “So out with it!” They scampered over to the door and held their arms out. “No escape!”

Siffrin blinked dumbly. Once. Twice. “Snrk-“ He plopped down on bed and started laughing. “Oh come on! I’m not that bad at talking…” he looked around the room and added, “…anymore!” 

Odile nodded, “I will concede, you’ve gotten better. But Boniface, stay there.”

“Sorry ‘Za! I’m the Defender now! Ehehe.”

“Oh nooooo!” Isabeau said, dramatically swooning onto the ground in exaggerated defeat. Everyone laughed. Some a little, some a lot, but they all laughed, even Isabeau!

Change, she loved these people.

“So then… Siffrin…” Mirabelle stepped closer with the utmost seriousness. Siffrin trembled before her! “You will…” Pause for dramatic effect, hand on her currently missing sword (she was in pajamas after all)… “Talk about your feelings!!!”

“NOOOOOOO!” Siffrin moaned, collapsing onto the bed and snickering. Though he sighed and rolled to look at all of them. “… but okay. Just… promise you won’t find it weird or wrong?”

“Of course, young one.”

“Sif, we aren’t going to judge you!”

“Never! Never ever!”

“I mean, you are weird, Stupidfrin, but tell! Us!” 

Siffrin squeaked and rolled into a ball like a little hedgehog.

Mirabelle couldn’t help but giggle, “Oh no! We came on too strong!” She sat down in bed next to him.

“Scared like the stray animal he is,” Odile tutted.

Maybe it was a little mean to poke this much fun when he was having problems… but it seemed to relax him, actually? She could say from experience that treating it too seriously was anxiety inducing itself!!! A cornered animal bites! 

Siffrin pushed himself up, shuffling close enough that their knees and elbows bumped together, but not much else. “Thanks guys.” In… out. “I dunno how you guys are so sweet when I’m so weird…”

“Like Boniface said, we already know that. It’s going to take more than a few new quirks to scare us off.” 

Blushing, Siffrin tried to bury into their collar, but he was in night clothes. No cloak! So cute! Everyone was nice enough not to mention it.

They continued, “It’s just…” He looked around as though looking for a distraction, but no one was interrupting. “With the samosas, it, uh… Took me a moment. To remember. What you guys said.”

Odile raised an eyebrow. “And that’s… bad?”

“It shouldn’t be…?” Siffrin squirmed. One of his hands found one of Mirabelle’s. She gave it a little squeeze, and he gave one back. “I mean. I… Let’s talking about something. Stars-!” 

Mirabelle squeezed his hand again. “There’s no rush.”

In… out. In. And out. “Thank you.” One more time. Big breath in… big breath out. “I guess it surprised me more than anything. Which is? Kinda dumb???”

Isabeau tried to cut in, “It’s not-“

But Siffrin kept talking, “I was careful! No wishes! No ‘Hi Isa, I need to do the Favor Tree thing!’ Even though I thought I wis- though I wanted to forget. But I didn’t mean those parts!” He held tighter to her hand, breath quickening. “I wanted to forget the King and the Sadnesses and the Head Housemaiden! Not you guys!”

Everyone tried to act at once, tried to protest, but Mirabelle was closest. She took his face in her hands—ignore the way he jumped, the moment of panic, the memory of a slap—and made him look her in the eyes. “Siffrin. You are NOT forgetting us! We’re right here, okay?” 

Bonnie barreled into him, Isabeau showed a little more restraint and just opened his arms for the group hug, and Odile messed up his hair a bit from the side. 

“Yeah! No way you can forget me!!!” Bonnie shouted.

“I would hug the memory back into you,” Isabeau said. 

Siffrin snorted, relaxing into the group hug. “Thanks guys, heh. Sorry, like I said. It’s a little bit weird, but I guess…” he had to stop to breathe again. “I guess a lot of things. I don’t want to forget more. Some part of me’s scared I’ll somehow forget my scripts and just go entirely mute. And it’s- it’s the only proof I have that it happened, because it didn’t! It didn’t happen to anyone else. Not on the loop that stuck!” His grasp on them tightened. Not painfully so, not when spread out across three people, but it was noticeable. “And it’s kind of not blinding fair! I- I… ‘I’d rather you ask everyone else if they need help, first.’ And I did! And- and THANK YOU SNACK LEADER FOR THIS DELICIOUS MEAL! and Fromage and… and it… How can I help you on this wonderful new loop…”

He let out a bitter laugh. “… it didn’t happen.” 

No one knew what to say. What even could they say? There was a heaviness in the air, an oppressive silence. It felt like if something broke it, everything might shatter…

But Change is destruction, and Mirabelle was a Housemaiden. “It happened to you.”

“But-“

“No, Mirabelle is right,” Odile said. “Even if it didn’t technically happen to anyone else, it happened to you for the equivalent of months. And if I recall correctly, you’ve mentioned before that that was your rock bottom, as it were.”

“I don’t think anyone blames you for feeling cheated, Sif,” Isabeau said. “Or for missing good memories, or, uh… wishing things went better.”

Siffrin sighed, resting his head on Isabeau’s shoulder. “I just, I just wish- wait! No. I want you guys to remember too. But I know that can’t happen without, um, actually wishing it. And no thank you. I think sharpening my dagger is the most wishcraft I want anymore.”

“Fair and valid,” Isabeau said. 

“Yeah… though I feel like it’d get confusing, having two memories of the same day,” Mirabelle said.

Siffrin gave her the most deadpan look and-

“Oh Change, I guess you technically do have a lot of the same day huh,” Mirabelle said one quiet breath. 

Siffrin chuckled, “Understatement. Though for better or worse, the fact that I, uh, didn’t change much made parts of it less confusing? Like…” He looked around and his eye widened. “Y’know, if you push that bed off the far wall to be more in the middle, it looks like the clock tower…” He trailed into mumbles as he just… apparently decided to do that! Without much issue! Sometimes Mirabelle forgot how strong they were now.

Isabeau, regardless, decided to pick up the other end and help. “Uh. I am going with this because you started it, but why are we doing a thing that seems kinda tailor made to trigger you, Sif?”

“I have, like, half an idea. Working on it,” Siffrin said as he set the bed down.

“Curious as I am, I’m with Isabeau on this one. This seems ill-advised,” Odile said. 

“That took, like, five seconds. We can move it back!” Siffrin huffed, sitting on the newly moved bed. “Besides. They’re way closer.” The room was quite a bit smaller than the clock tower after all, not really meant to shove all five of them in there.

“Oh! Are we making one BIG bed?” Mirabelle said. “Ultimate bed!!!”

“Gross, Frin! I don’t wanna be next to you and Za KISSING!”

“I agree with the preteen,” Odile said. “Veto’d.”

“That’s not-!” Siffrin huffed and pulled his legs in to sulk.

Oh no! “C’mon, we should probably let Siffrin think! And then tell us, um, what he’s thinking,” Mirabelle said.

“Thank you!” Siffrin said, flopping onto his back with an overdramatic huff. There were a few chuckles, but then they let the poor guy think. 

Siffrin took a deep breath. “So… I know I’ve been, uh, a little skittish. With play stuff.” They’d tried to see one once or twice, but he couldn’t step foot into a theatre without looking like he was just… empty. “But maybe I could act it out…?” His voice hoy quieter until it was a near whisper, eye averted…

And she couldn’t blame him. Isabeau and Odile both looked like he’d suggested going to swim with Sadnesses, and Bonnie looked to Odile and tried to mimic it.

“Sif, I don’t think-“

“Don’t be stupid, Frin-“

“Young one, this might not-“

“I THINK IT’S A GREAT IDEA!” Mirabelle shouted… and jumped, surprised at just how loud that came out. And oh Change, all eyes were on her now! But… oh, just pretend they’re in their underwear… hmm, that doesn’t work as well when you’ve had to wash clothes and bathe in rivers and have actually seen that. 

Deep breath, like Siffrin! They’re her friends, and it’s her turn to help. She walks over to Siffrin, sitting beside him and pulling them up enough to take their hands in hers. “I know it might sound a little counter-intuitive, to do something relating to what scares you, or, um, trauma in your case, but sometimes it’s good to? In little ways where you have control!”

She rubbed the backs of his palms with her thumbs. “It’s kind of like reading horror books? Getting to be a little scared, but safely? Or, hmm… no. Not reading… writing fanfiction! All the control is in my hands! I can make it horrible if I want, or can make them live happily ever after, or can have them face my greatest fears in front of an audience and make out over the gorey remains! And yeah, maybe it’s scary, but it’s safe scary? My, um… some of the other Housemaidens who are good at medicine and therapy and stuff recommended it, actually.”

She smiled at Siffrin, putting a hand on his cheek. The rest are probably staring at her, but this is no grand stage. It’s… “It’s us, our family! Not a whole theatre, not Dormont, or a House or anything like that. You’re safe here with us, and you can stop or break the script whenever you want, okay?“

He was looking at her like she was the one who made the seasons change and sun move across the sky. “Okay.”

She stood up and clapped. “Good!” And then dared look around. Everyone was staring!

“So, did you take a class on psychology, then?” Odile asked. 

“Three. One of which was actually theatre related!”

“Crab yeah Mira!” Isabeau pumped his fist for her. 

“You guys are nerds,” Bonnie said.

They couldn’t refute that! 

“Snrk- yeah, we can’t all be as cool as you, Bonbon,” Siffrin said. “So… if we’re good, do I just, like, do it…? I mean, the scene setting is already here.”

“What, by yourself?” Odile said.

“I’m not writing you a script and having you do it. If I see you guys say and do those things again, it might actually give me a panic attack,” Siffrin said. He stood up on the bed. “Sorry guys! One man show!”

“One! Man! Show!!!” Bonnie cheered. “Should I make popcorn?”

“I mean, yes, always,” Isabeau said. “But how long should this take?”

“Not long. Two minutes or so? Provided you don’t combust, Isa~”

“Wait, why would I combust???” Isabeau was already blushing some, holding his hands up defensively.

“EW! I don’t wanna hear you pretend to be Za being mushy! We get enough of that!” 

Siffrin smirked. “Okay, but, then you can laugh at me being Isa being mushy. And you’re in this scene too!”

Bonnie’s eyes went wide, mouth open in childish awe. “Am I yelling at you?”

“Mmmmmmaybe~” Pause. “Yes.”

“I KNEW IT!”

“Oh I’m going to have to give the neighbors something to make up for this,” Mirabelle whispered to herself. It wasn’t too late though, so hopefully they weren’t in, or at least weren’t trying to sleep.

“Dile! Get the tea heater!” They pulled out a small pan and lid from their bag. “I’m making POPCORN!” 

“Guess we’ve got a few minutes before the show. Everyone take your seats~”

“There is only one chair, and I claim it,” Odile said. 

“Overbooked! A tragedy!” Isabeau said with an exaggerated gasp and hand over his heart. 

Mirabelle, meanwhile, felt some of her theatre classes coming back. Just the rehearsals though! There was a play, but she panicked so hard that poor Junette had to just throw on the bonnet she was supposed to wear and, well, improving that that mother requesting help was the secretly the villain in disguise was sheer genius, actually! 

Wait… “Oh!” She pulled an extra bow from her bag and gave it to Siffrin. “Here! To play me! Um, assuming I’m here?” 

“You were!”

“Hmm, probably better than you attempting to do accents. Because, young one, if I didn’t know you, I’d think your attempt at mimicking me was offensive on purpose,” Odile said, smirking at Siffrin.

“Sorry Madame.”

“Here,” she passed him those weird, opaque glasses that they’d… wait… when did she get those??? 

“What about you, Bonbon. Should I steal your hat~?” Siffrin teased, inching to where it was piled atop their things.

“No. Borrow a spatula.” 

“Bon yes bon!” They pulled a spatula. Brilliant!

“Wait! What can I give you…?” Isabeau said, making a sad puppy dog face. And that was fair! Siffrin’s ears weren’t pierced, and putting earrings on and off would be a chore anyways. And Isabeau’s gloves were just too big for Siffrin’s hands!

It apparently stumped everyone as they just stared… 

Until Bonnie said, “Make your hair stand up like a bird’s.”

That alone got a chuckle out of some of them, and it turned to outright laughs when Isabeau fake cried, “So MEAN! I’m not a bird. I’m buff!”

“The buffest of birds,” Siffrin said, pressing again Isa and standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. 

Bonnie threw some corn at them. 

“Worth it!” Isabeau chirped.

The popcorn was ready shortly afterwards, salted and put in a little bowl in front of everyone. Siffrin was on the bed, stage right. He spit in his hand to spike up his hair, like a bird!

“Sif…” Siffrin deepened his voice, prompting snorts from all of them at his attempt to sound like Isabeau. “Hey… hey Sif. Siffrin. Siffarooni.” 

Siffrin then scooted over and tamped his hair down just to look behind him then quickly scoot back and fluff his hair again. If the ridiculousness of such an act weren’t silly enough, it was clear he was aware of this, trying not to laugh. 

He took a deep breath and got back “in character,” looking at the empty space in front of him with the biggest, puppiest eye he could muster. “Um… Sorry? To wake you? I just have to tell you something. If that’s okay?”

“Oh crab, I didn’t!!!” Isabeau groaned, pressing his hands into his eyes. 

“In front of my Belle?!” Bonnie said, gesturing to Mirabelle like she was an art piece.

Siffrin once more played “himself” and nodded before doing his silly little scoot back to being Isabeau. “Okay, okay, okay. Then I shall tell you the thing! The thing I woke you up to tell you!”

“Siiiiiif I take it back let’s end this!” Isabeau groaned. 

“Quiet, I’m watching the show,” Pdile said, taking a handful of popcorn.

Bonnie seemed considerably more interested in laughing at Isabeau, but Siffrin didn’t seem to mind.

Siffrin continued, unmoved by the begging. “Haha! Um. So.”

“The thing I have to tell you. Is. That…” Siffrin looked off to the side, a snort escaping as he caught Isabeau’s clearly shaded face. Still, he delivered his line. “I don’t have anything to tell you right now. But I will, when, uh, we beat the King, okay?”

“Oh Change and I said this every night, didn’t I? Aaaaargh that must’ve gotten so crabbing annoying!” Isabeau moaned. 

“Now you know how I feel!” Bonnie said.

Siffrin was back in his place, but… “Uh… hmm. Breaking character of, uh… myself? A sec? Eventually I just got quiet but that’s more sad than funny, so we’re doing the funny one. Okay back to it!” He cleared his throat. “That is still SO ominous, Isa.”

Back to Isa and oh Change he actually did a really good impression of Isabeau’s flustered face! “I, uh, just don’t wanna tell you right now when it might distract you! Wouldn’t want that! So, uh, I’ll tell you when we beat the, um, King, okay?”

Siffrin looked at them, opened his mouth to say something, then it split into a head manic grin as an idea hit. Oh Change here we go. 

Siffrin bolted up, snapped, grabbed the spatula and a pillow, threw it, dropped the spatula, and lunged for the bed so it hit him in the face. 

“SIF?!”

“Pfffft, hahaha!”

“PILLOW! THROW!”

“Hahahaha! Oh noooooo!” 

They had to take a short intermission from everyone laughing too hard. Once, even twice it almost ended, but someone snickered and started it again! But third time’s the charm.

Siffrin picked the dropped spatula back up, “I’ll wash this after,” and then got on the middle bed and pointed accusingly at the empty bed, “SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!” 

“HEY I DON’T SOUND LIKE THAT!” Bonnie huffed.

“Oh he’s trying,” Mira said. Though truthfully, the squeaky voice Siffrin had chosen was awful.

“You hit me with a pillow?!” Isabeau said.

“I would’ve used a book,” Odile said.

Siffrin hit the bed and set the bow on his hair. “YEAH ISABEAU! SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP! CLOSE YOUR MOUTH AND SLEEP!”

“PFFFT, Belle sounds like a mouse!” Bonnie said. “Belle’s on my side Belle’s on my side!”

Then Siffrin rushed over to stage right once more, slicking hair in the midst of a fit of giggles. “CLOSE YOUR MOUTH HOUSEMAIDEN! YOU’RE GONNA WAKE UP M’DAME ODILE!”

“How could I have slept through this?” Odile said. 

Siffrin went to the far bed, stifling giggles behind his hand before putting on the dark glasses and somehow managing to be utterly serious as he said, “I’m already up.” He didn’t bother with a voice, but got the tone scarily serious. 

“Oh, so I didn’t,” Odile remarked.

“And if the noise continues, I will stand up. You do not want to know what will happen if I stand up.”

Aaaand right back to the energy. He looked exaggeratedly spooked as he picked up the spatula and dove under the covers. “Sorry.” Then tried to roll over, presumably to be Mirabelle, and-

THUMP! “NYA!”

“Did you-?”

“Did he-?”

“Did Sif-?”

“Did they-?”

“Stars- YES I JUST SAID NYA!” Tangled in the sheets, Siffrin had hit the floor, and now was hiding in the covers, wiggling futilely for a few seconds before giving up. “… for the record. That did not happen. Uh… crew? A little help? Rather not cut these.”

Mirabelle giggled as she got up, helping get the sheets off without having to resort the scissors craft. 

Siffrin brushed the dust off of him, held the bow up, and gave a quick little, “Sorry.”

Then went back to be Isabeau. “Sorry m’dame…” He looked appropriately abashed, but the look turned into one of a familiar, adoring smile. “Good night, Sif!” 

“Aaaaaand scene!” Siffrin said, standing back up and giving a little bow.

They all clapped for him, even if Bonnie was breathless from laughing and Isabeau was still dark-cheeked. 

“Good job, Siffrin!” Mirabelle said, going over and playfully spinning him… and forgetting their current lack of space, squawking as they both tumbled onto a bed, laughing and breathless.

Isabeau must’ve gotten jealous as he scooped Siffrin into his arms and started kissing his cheek! “Mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah!”

“GROOOOOOSSSS!” Bonnie whined.

Siffrin was laughing so much that both he and Isa had to sit down a minute, but eventually Siffrin got back up to put the bed back, then munch on some popcorn. “Mmmmm, good as always, Bonbon~” They mussed up Bonnie’s hair with a smile as more salty snacks disappeared into their mouth. 

“I AM the best chef cooker after all!” Bonnie said, little chest puffed out.

“You are!” Siffrin said. He went a bit quiet for a moment before saying, “Speaking of that, we’re near a market anyways… wanna try making those fritters again? Maybe with a few spicy peppers?”

“YEAH!!!”

“We might wanna grab something for the neighbors too, if only to apologize…” Mirabelle said. 

“And we haven’t been kicked out yet, so to bribe the inkeepers as well,” Odile said.

“MADAME!”

They went into another bout of giggles and finished up the popcorn before going to brush teeth and settle in…

And in the dark and quiet, as she was starting to drift off to sleep, she could hear Isabeau say, “And hey Sif, just gonna tell it this time… I love you!”

“I love you too!”

Mwah!

And that night, everyone slept well.

-----

I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?

[simpingforbots]

Big scary grandpa – part 2

Megatron never expected him self to look though archives to refreshes his memories of the past, scaning though letters with new source of hunger for knowledge, hopping that he will get to see you again. Not that it will be hard as he knew your name and your school, so maybe he can try to convince Prime to organize another school meeting. You will be probably pleased to hear even more stories that he dug up from the “treasury of stories”. He was so deep in the history he did not hear the door open and someone walk in.

“Well this is new” it took a lot of strength just not to turn around and fire straight away, letting a quite grunt as he turned to stared down at Elita-one, who seemed to be very happy that she caught him in such tender moment. “Never took you for someone who would willingly spend their free time in archives. You are ususaly etaher by Primes side or in simulation.”

“I have my own reasons” Megatron took a step aside, letting Elita to see what he was reading. Maybe he can ask if any other social occasions were to be expected any time sooner “any word on other social gathering as of right now?”

“There is one, but it months in to the future” Elita glanced at Megatron, who quickly averted the eyes, grining to her self knowing well what was going on. Ever since that “interesting” school trip so THOUGHTFULLY organised by Karen, he seamed to be out of it a bit, spending time reading and doing his best to spend more time with terrans and Malto kids, learning how to behave aorund them in less threatening ways. "I heard that it could be the same school, even the same grade”

Irish sounding bot quickly perked up, his eyes lighting up just a bit more then they used to, his fingers twitching and his sparked warmed up a bit. Well this is nice surprise. Did school liked Prime and Elita this much to organise another gathering? He really did not care, all he cared is that you will be there and maybe, in near future, he can introduce you to other sparkling and kids, putting you under his wing even more. But for now he had to put his thoughts on the shelf as every one was called as some one reported decepticon activity. Letting a bit of grumble and angry that his ex-troops just can’t enjoy peaceful life like Breakdown did, just going out to race, he followed behind Elita-One for the debriefing.

You hated this. Ever since you had a wonderful talk with Megatron, you seamed to become the black sheep of the school, with every one deciding that just because you talked with redeemed Decepticon leader you were a decepticon supporter. Your stuff got stolen, you got pushed around, tripped and slammed in the walls and lockers, food dumped on you, the whole facade. Your parents did their best to get it fixed, but you did not wanted to trouble them. After all one of few reasons you had to change school was because you were being bullied in last school for reasons you never understood, even so kids never needed any reason to bully someone, nothing significant. You sighed heavily as your class and your rival class “B” were signed up for camping for 4 weeks and today you were leaving today. Your backpack was heavy with all the things your parents though needed – some clothes, spare once, some caned food that was for you and you only, first aid, some books about nature and what is safe to eat and to do, a new tent, sleeping back, inflatable matrass and some other stuff. You grunted as you shuffled to wards the buss, knowing that it will be best to seat next to teacher for your own safety. You begged you parents to not let you go on to this trip but they though otherwise, saying that it will give you chance to maybe try and make some friends. Groaning you set in your seat with Miss Roz, who looked like Roz from monster inc, right by you and the bus soon was driving down the road, entering the lush forest.

When the bus finally arrived to the spot, away from the city and any civilisation, the class piled out and started dividing in to groups and setting up their tents. Some kids were not as lucky as you, having to camp with other kids, though they seemd to be happy as they chose their friends and already hyped up. The laughter and chatter quickly filled the air and you started looking for a spot. You tried to be near the main camp but quickly got kicked out by another set of friends, over and over, until you were basicaly on outskirts of the camp site, alone, with no one wanting to share a tent with you, even if there were some kids who needed space. You sighed heavily, slowly setting up your tent, struggling with metal poles and securing the place, constantly looking down in to instruction, lifting the bucklet up and putting it down, over and over, wishing to your self that some kids were not so hateful and could see thing from your perspective. I mean Megatron was once a warlord, but now he completely changed, becoming soft and even initiated the conversation with you.  And it was a very nice conversation with him. You grumbled, fighting with poles, able to hear other students yapping about you being a “decepticon’s slut” or “decepticon supporter”, but you just sighed, fighting the poles. Though you did feel like someone was watching you, not from the back, not human. You lifted your head, staring in to the forest, trying to see just who it was. You stared in to the depth of greenery, still not seeing anything before shrugging and going back to building your tent.

The mission was successful, the swarm of Mandroid’s bugs were easy to deal and even gave Terrance a chance to train again, with them joking that it was something called “1st levels enemies” quickly dealing with them, leaving the “main boss” – Mandroid to him. Sadly Mandroid was a bit more sly and quickly ran away from the battle. It did upset him greatly and to calm down, after returning kids to Dorothy of course, he went for a flight, enjoying the air and space he needed to cool off, time to time looking down. This is when he spotted buss going down the road, heading deep in to the forest. Ususaly he wont pay any attention to it, yet his “greedy” desire to see you again forced him to. He followed it from above, hiding behind clouds and spying on younglings of the humans. The buss pulled in to one of the less known camping sites and kids piled out with few adults, quickly spreading around and setting up their fragile tents, with him landing a bit further away, as to not get attention and spy on the small organics from afar and behind the leaves of trees. He can see adults moving heavier equipment, clearly setting up the main area for meeting and food hall, all while kids were setting up their little tents, dividing in to small groups or two to three. All but one. He watched this one carefully, trying to see who the black sheep was. It was hard to see as this one was constantly chased away from the spots they tried to take, until they were close to where he was hiding, worrying him a but until he go t a better look at them, and a smiled crept up on to his faceplate. It was YOU. Right here, in front of him.

It took every thing in him to not just swipe you right now, this is how happy he was to see you, but he managed to control him self, hiding behind the trees, watching you struggle with the small fabric that will serve you as temporal shelter in this camp site, faling and fumbling with parts, mumbling something under your breath, time to time looking back at the other kids. He can see that you clearly wanted to bond with other kids, yet he can hear even from here what they called you, getting a bit angry at what they were saying. Not all decepticon were bad, they just had bad press, some were quite chill of they were left alone. After some time you managed to finally managed to put your tent up, heading in to it, staying inside for a bit. Seeing this, Megatron decided to head back to make an appearance so that no one will suspect anything.

[jumpingjoltiks]

Um hiii!! Could I request an x reader for ingo and emmet (seperately) with a reader who is autistic but like. REALLY masks? Like a level of masking where the boys don't even know that they're autistic at first, and they're VERY different when they aren't out in public/don't feel the need to mask. I love ur writing btw >_<!!!

AAAA Thank you smmm! I’m so happy you’ve enjoyed my work! <3 <3 <3

I’ve already written a little bit about the twins being autistic already, so I’m happy to get to finally write some x reader stuff to go with it!

Biiiiig mood. I've spent most of my life masking, so I think a lot of this will probably come from my own experiences. I ended up making this a few different sections instead of just one, all coming out of different ideas I had. :)

The twins with someone who is also autistic, but masks heavily

Ingo Gets It. He understands the fear and the pressure to fit in. Emmet doesn’t, but he tries his best to respect your decision (though, secretly, he wishes you’d be more yourself. Both boys love when you’re being the most authentic version of you, but Emmet really wants to see it all the time).

Being actually comfortable around them takes a while (as it would with anyone) – its hard work to decondition yourself like that, to convince yourself you’re really, genuinely safe being yourself – but the twins’ (especially Emmet’s) refusal to mask is enormously helpful in this regard. Their unabashed devotion to being exactly who they are is inspiring.

Emmet devotedly listens to your infodumping, especially if it’s something he’s also interested in. Ingo is thrilled to find someone else who will listen to him too. Late in the evening, when Ingo is cooking and you’re all three in the kitchen together, you all talk like no one has ever looked at you strangely before – open and honest and genuinely excited just to share knowledge and enjoy this moment together.

There’s a certain amount of bluntness between you three, but none of you really mind. If hurtful words are ever said, you can be sure that they weren’t really meant to be cruel. You can always talk things out. Emmet, in particular, has trouble with his straightforward attitude, and sometimes says things that come out wrong – do you as well? He knows how hard it can be to find the right way to say things.

And if you don’t feel like spending time together right now, the twins understand that too. There have been plenty of days when one or the other will come home and lock themselves in their room for a while, just to cool down. If you should come home from your job or a grocery run and need some time, they’ll handle the rest.

Decompression

Would it surprise you to know that it’s Emmet who catches on first? There’s a good reason for that! He’s had a lifetime of keeping an eye on his brother, who also used to heavily mask.

Your own tells are different then Ingo’s, to be sure, but they’re there regardless.

After a tough day, you’re taking the subway home. He notices that your posture and gait are different & your expression is stiffer. You’re clinging to your sense of self-control.

He’s got things he needs to attend to, but you’re a dear friend… your wellbeing comes first, he decides. Emmet doesn’t hesitate to fall into step next to you as you traverse through the station.

“Good afternoon! Are you doing alright?”

You know he’s not one for small talk… so what is he doing? The flash of a puzzled look crosses your face before you smile up at him. It’s humiliating, but you can’t seem to summon up words right now. This will have to do.

Emmet knows smiles. Yours is tight and strained, not at all like your usual smile. And you haven’t answered. He doesn’t like this at all. All signs are pointing to a systems crash.

“Your engine is overheated. I can tell. Do you need a place to step aside for maintenance? My office isn’t far.”

You stare at him blankly, trying to parse exactly what kind of metaphor he’s making.

But you’re too overstimulated and tired to put too much thought into it. Eventually, you sigh and nod. He leads you through the crowd with swinging arms and legs, and people part before him.

The office is an open space that is fastidiously tidy. A sofa is tucked against one wall, opposite is a set of shelves with all kinds of books and files neatly arranged. A pair of matching desks are stationed toward the back of the room. You’ve never been in here, but somehow you instinctively know that this is a safe place for you.

“I have a mini fridge. You are welcome to any of the snacks and cold waters I have. There are also noise cancelling headphones if you want. I know that Gear Station can be verrrrry noisy when overstimulated.”

You think that’s the longest stretch of words you’ve ever heard Emmet say, and you can only stare up at him wordlessly in response. You didn’t realize he had you figured out. Shame threatens to creep in, but then he smiles as he holds out a bottle of ice water to you. He smiles like he knows. There isn’t a single trace of pity or belittlement in it, only understanding.

You take the bottle of water with a small, genuine smile of your own. It’s the first one you’ve had all day.

When you sit down on the couch, Emmet takes off his coat and places it over your shoulders. It’s pretty big on you… but it’s also really heavy. You hadn’t realized it was weighted this whole time. The pressure feels nice, and you bury yourself into it. Emmet seems pleased, like he knew this would happen.

“I am going to do some paperwork at my desk. Would you like the lights off?”

You nod wordlessly and he flicks the light switch off in response. The only light in the room is the warm glow of a desk lamp, focused down onto his work station and away from you. Even the faint hum of electricity that would usually come out of a lamp like that is silent, which is an enormous relief.

The only sound for the next hour is Emmet’s pen near silently sweeping across the pages of his work. You stay quiet and buried under his coat, eyes closed and dozing somewhere between sleeping and waking. You feel safe.

After what feels like an age, you shift from under the coat and re-emerge, feeling much better. Emmet’s eyes flick up to you.

“Do you feel any better?” he asks. His voice is quiet.

“Yes.” You answer, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

He cuts you off. “Do not apologize. Ingo and I have spent many afternoons doing the same. I’m just glad I was there to offer help.”

From that point on, things are… different between you and the twins. Emmet must have told his brother about what happened, because Ingo is more open around you.

You’ve been friends for a long time, but something seems to have unlocked now. The three of you quickly catch like a struck match.

Parallel Play

You spend a lot of time over at their place, and they at yours. Expect Ingo to politely ask if he or Emmet or both can come spend time with you.

This worried you at first, when you were still friends and not yet dating, but the twins don’t actually want your attention, per say. They just want to be in the same room as you while they do their own thing. Not having to “host” takes so much pressure off of you that you wonder why anyone entertains any other way.

Ingo will be reading, curled up in one of your chairs or on a couch, so still you’d think he was asleep if not for the intermittent turn of a page. Emmet is reviewing battle plans and notes, spread out across your table, one leg bouncing. Occasionally, he gets up to pace and mutter to himself, not looking at either you or his brother. You’re working on one of your hobbies in the living room. Not one of you bothers the others. It’s… peaceful. And nice, just having them unobtrusively nearby.

Do you stim? They have a cache of puzzle-y, twisty toys and clickers in a drawer. You’re more than welcome to them, or to anything else you need.

Eventually, if you’d like, you can curl up with Ingo underneath the weighted blanket he’s got spread across his lap. He’ll swing an arm around you without looking up from his book, and you listen to his heartbeat and steady breathing as you nod off.

Or Emmet might come over to you and quietly offer you a warm mug of hot chocolate. The two of you sit back-to-back in silence, sipping your drinks and working on your respective projects.

How nice it is, you think, to spend time with those who understand.

[call-me-lemon]

I want to build a fort with a sign on the door that reads "No uggos allowed" but I never stop anyone from coming in ever even if they look like a literal eldrich horror so it both promotes positivity in the sense that no one is denied meaning no one is ugly and also that it confuses the hell out of all visitors as to the origins of the sign and to what exactly I consider to be ugly

[nandermoenthusiast]

i dont think i will ever be over nandor tying guillermos cape with such care and focus. that moment its possibly my favourite from the finale NANDOR ACTS OF SERVICE GUY MAKES ME WANNA CLIMB A WALL and the way hes putting guillermo on equal ground now makes my heart grow 3 sizes

and to be honest i dont think they can go back to where they were before. for anyone whos worried. like yeah he told him “now clean up the body” after he reverted back to human but to me that was more like nandors brain going like. “i cooked now you clean”. he went through such a tremendous amount of work to help guillermo. he had the empathy to recognise the problem. he thought it through concocted a plan. he got the robes and the candles and he painted and hung those banners. he held a fakeass ceremony with all their friends and elders so it looked official. he then also comforted guillermo when he couldnt do it and staked derek himself without a second thought. so maybe its was more of a. i pulled you out of a very hairy situation. can you take care of the body now? (also it IS gonna be hard to let go of certain habits so maybe some comments like this are gonna slip out next season, but that is just because they are useless and in guillermos absence the house fucking imploded in one year lmao… maybe guillermo is gonna teach them how to take care of it themselves next season so they can split the workload and cute shenanigans will ensue)

i just dont think it was mean spirited on nandors part tbh. LAZLO even offered to help. i dont think that was just to have him in the next scene i dont think an unusual detail like that could be just for convenience. i do FULLY believe they are gonna all be on equal grounds next season. and thats gonna be so fucking delicious to me specifically

[biblicalhorror]

Thinking about my Rook hours </3