#failed accuracy check

[patchwork-crow-writes]

Golden ribbons of sacred light descend from the heavens, responding to your desperate plea for a miracle. They swirl and swoop through the air like birds of sparkling crystal, leaving shimmering trails in their wake. You watch, breath caught in your throat, as the light converges upon the body of your dearest friend, settling like effervescent dew upon their lifeless form. Like the merest whisper of a sigh, the light is drawn into them, imparting a soft glow upon their surroundings that moves you to tears. It's like coming home, and you feel in the deepest reaches of your immortal soul that everything is going to be okay.

*Miss*

[vice-like]

now that the new chapter is out, the official translation has an inconsistency that the fantranslation didn't in omibashira arc

official on the left here, says tanuma's dad is a single father instead of midorikawa's very purposefully vague way of saying it's "just him and his dad" that i'm gonna assume the fantranslation nailed (since it's the same for the crunchy subs in the anime)

and honestly that's my main problem with the official tbh, overall they make characters sound more natural and word sentences better but i feel like they don't notice midorikawa's subtlety in some cases (prob bc the team translating it might not have been familiar with the series at this time), something the fantranslation might not miss as much bc (besides being familiar with the series) most of the time they care more about accuracy than wording and adaptation

even tho i like the official (and prefer it in many cases) i really hope the same translator can keep working on it bc the more familiar they get with working with the series the less this will happen i think, and honeslty it's sooo nice to have both options i just get worried abt ppl who only read one version sometimes lol

of course the reader can just see this as natsume assuming he's a single father bc he doesn't know instead of seeing it as an inconsistency, but it's kinda sad a purposeful hint from the author got lost in translation

[400-lucky-weasels]

I'M DOING IT!!!

[writtendaydreamm]

Allergies and Accidents

Summary: Y/n and Langdon's son has an allergic reaction at school and is rushed to the ER

Author's note: There are not enough Langdon fics on here so I tried my hand at it with this little scenario that came to mind. I have no medical knowledge so please don't expect accuracy with the medical details lol but I tried my best.

Check out my masterlist for more Langdon fics!

1:03 PM

McKay noticed Y/n immediately. Familiar faces are always the easiest to spot here - they’re the ones you never want to see. She came through the entrance frantic and pale faced, trying to squeeze through the mess of people packed into that waiting room tighter than sardines in a can.

“Alright guys, do a round and make sure no one’s dying before they get into a bed,” McKay instructed the row of interns following behind her like little ducklings.

Making a beeline to y/n, she eyed her up and down assessing for any possible injuries. No visible cuts or wounds. No signs of trauma or pain. Other than the obvious fact the poor girl was about to have a full blown panic attack, she looked fine. 

“Cass! Oh thank god,” Y/n exclaimed, grabbing onto McKay earnestly. She had a vice grip and was not letting go until she got some answers. 

“What’s going on, are you alright? What are you doing here?” 

“It’s not me,” Y/n said, holding back a sob. “It’s Theo.”

12:31 PM

Typing up his report on the college kid with pancreatitis in South 12, Robby settled into a chair. He thought to himself it must’ve been his lucky day. He barely got a chance to use the restroom let alone a chance to sit down. It was almost unheard of. 

The thought alone must’ve jinxed him as Dana called out for him the second he got comfortable. He gave her a tired look over his glasses thinking, what now. 

“EMS rolling in with a 6 year old male. Anaphylaxis. Low BP, dropping O2.”

“ETA?”

As if on cue the automatic doors slid open for two first responders wheeling in a young boy. He was wheezing, gasping for air. Jumping into action, Robby, Perlah, along with 2 interns opened up a room as the EMS gave their report. 

“Six year old male, Theo Langdon. Severe anaphylaxis, failed EpiPen at school.”

The name caught Robby off guard. No, it couldn’t be. Eyes dropping down to get a better look at the boy as they transferred him from the stretcher onto the bed, Robby’s jaw went slack. Perlah who had come to the same realization looked at him wide-eyed in shock. 

“Alright, we’ll take it from here, thanks guys,” Robby dismissed the responders before addressing their new patient. 

“Hey bud, it’s Dr. Robby. I know you're struggling right now, but we’ve got you, okay.” Pressing his fingers along the boy’s throat assessing the swelling and looking for signs of a possible tracheal deviation. No deviation yet which was good, no need for immediate intubation. Using his stethoscope against Theo’s chest and throat, he listened closely for stridor and absent breath sounds. “Get him on continuous pulse ox, full cardiac monitoring. O2 status?”

“88% on 15L non-rebreather,” Perlah replied, adjusting the mask on the boy’s face. 

“I do not want to intubate if possible, but if it drops below 85%, we have no choice. Get RSI meds ready in case we lose the airway.” 

Pointing at one of the interns, Whitaker, Robby ordered him to step out, find Dr. Langdon and keep him away from this room by any means necessary. The intern hesitated, clearly confused by the request, and honestly a bit offended that he was the one to be sent off over the other intern. Gathering what guts he had, Whitaker spoke up.

“Dr. Robby, I’d really prefer to stay-”

“And I’d prefer that Dr. Langdon not walk in and see his son like this,” Robby countered without a beat. 

A flash of understanding spread across Whitaker’s face as he rushed out of the room to do as instructed. Robby spared a quick glance out the doors watching the young intern weave his way through the bustle of the ER floor in search of said doctor. No matter how long you’ve been on the job or how much trauma and gore you’ve dealt with, nothing will ever compare to the sickening feeling of seeing a loved one here. And the last thing they needed in this room was another Langdon in distress. 

Wrapping his stethoscope back around his neck, Robby stood up determination setting in. He was not going to let anything happen to Theo. Not in his ER. They needed to open his airways and stabilize him fast.

“Nebulized racemic epinephrine stat.”

12:40 PM

Walking back to the nurses station, Dr. Langdon was feeling quite pleased with himself. 

A woman had been rushed in with a ruptured spleen and internal bleeding after a bad car crash. Distended abdomen, severe blood loss, BP dangerously low and on the decline. She was losing too much blood too fast. She was going to crash. She wouldn’t have made it to the OR if he hadn’t acted as fast as he had to stop the bleeding and relieve the abdominal pressure.

“The peritoneal lavage. The IV vasopressor. That was really quick thinking. I mean you didn’t even hesitate,” Mel thought out loud, joining him at the counter. “I’d never seen that much internal bleeding managed outside the OR before.”

“Yeah?” chucked dryly, “Well, get used to it.”

Only half listening now as Mel rambled on, he pulled out his phone and in an instant whatever high he was on after working on that patient was brought crashing down seeing his notifications.

15 missed calls, all from Y/n.

“Well do you think she’s gonna make it? In the OR I mean?” Mel asked, oblivious to the fact the man beside her was on the verge of mentally spiraling. 

“Um, it's in their hands now,” he answered absently, gesturing over to the OR as he walked off leaving Mel to swallow whatever she was about to say next. 

He didn’t mean to be rude, but whatever Y/n was calling about had to be something urgent. 15 missed calls. She never called him during his shifts. She’d text if she needed to tell him something. But even then sparingly and about little things, like needing to grab eggs and milk on his way home, or to update him that she and the kids got home safe. She never called. Not unless something serious was happening. His mind raced with the worst case scenarios as he paced down the hallway, phone pressed tight against his ear. Maybe she got into an accident again - she was always getting into little accidents and incidents. Or maybe she was having car trouble? But they’d just gotten both their cars serviced and paid a pretty penny for it too. Was it the kids? God he hoped it wasn’t one of the kids. 

“Hello, Frank?”

“Hey baby, sorry I missed your calls. I had this patient crashing and-” 

She didn’t give him any time to finish, cutting straight to the chase. 

“Theo was rushed to the ER.”

12:49

“Vitals,” Langdon demanded, bursting into the room pushing right past Whitaker.

Really? Robby looked at Whitaker who could only shrug apologetically. He had tried his best to keep Langdon away, but the poor intern was no match for the senior resident who just moments ago had threatened to lay him out on the ER floor if he didn’t move out of his way. And Whitaker knew by the look in Langdon’s eyes, he was dead serious. 

“You can’t be in here Langdon,” Robby shook his head, adjusting the ventilator settings, tweaking Theo’s oxygen flow.

“The hell I can’t,” Langdon bit back, moving towards his son. But Whitaker held his arms out, trying to block him from getting any further into the room. 

“I swear if you don’t get your hands off me, you’ll be in a bed next,” Langdon said through gritted teeth.

“Do not threaten my interns,” Robby warned pointedly.

But the words fell on deaf ears as Langdon continued, asking how Theo’s airways are looking? If he’s getting enough steroid coverage. If they checked for biphasic anaphylaxis.

“You’re not his doctor right now,” Robby said, beginning to lose his patience, “You’re his dad. And you need to step out if you can’t control yourself.” 

Langdon threw his head back in frustration. He was both for crying out loud. He was Theo’s dad and a doctor. And he’d be damned if he didn’t use his skills and knowledge to ensure the best treatment for his son. He was about to protest again when suddenly the machine's steady beeping began to go off, the alarms spiking. A cold panic coursed through Langdon’s entire body as that dreaded high pitched beeping filled the room. 

“You need to push fluids faster. He's in distributive shock,” Langdon stressed from the foot of the bed watching the monitor show Theo’s BP dropping. 

Robby cursed under his breath, adjusting the IV line. Although there were no rules against having family members in the room while patients were being treated, at times like this Robby really wished there were. Dealing with overbearing parents in the room was one thing, but an overbearing parent that happened to be a doctor as well was another. 

“Fluids are running. Normal saline wide open. We can handle this.”

“He’s not responding fast enough,” Langdon pushed, “If this is progressing into refractory shock, you need to start the pressors now.”

Perlah turned to Robby, “Do you want to escalate to vasopressors?”

“Get the vasopressin push ready, but hold for my call,” he shot a sharp look at Langdon having had enough of him trying to control the room, “Don’t wanna jump the gun. We’re not panicking here.”

“Not panicking? My son could code, and you’re not panicking?”

“That’s it. Out. Now,” he snapped, raising his voice to meet Langdon’s.

“No,” he doubled down.

“Then I will have you forcibly removed and written up for insubordination.” 

“Robby, please. That’s my son,” Langdon pleaded, running his hands through his hair, trying not to get a grip.

“And we’ve got him,” Robby assured. “Now, go. Let us do our jobs. Go.”

With a sharp exhale, and one final look at his son, Langdon turned to leave pulling his phone out to call Y/n. 

1:07 PM

Following McKay through the double doors into the ER, Y/n gripped the strap of her shoulder bag tightly. She was putting on a brave face, but the worry in her chest grew heavier and heavier with each step. McKay tried her best to soothe the poor mother, but being a mother herself, she knew there was nothing she could possibly say to make Y/n feel any better about this situation. 

Langdon, who had been pacing outside of Theo’s room, closed the distance between them the moment he saw her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her into a tight hug. Y/n let out a deep sigh, melting into him. Her heart that had been beating like a jackhammer was calmed by the the comfort of his presence and the warmth of his embrace. Pulling back to take a look at Theo, she couldn’t see a thing. The room’s curtains had been drawn.

“How is he,” she asked looking up at him, brows furrowed tightly together, worry etched across her face

Langdon had never seen her look so helpless before. She’s the strongest woman he knows - juggling a fulltime job of her own all while taking care of the kids and picking up the slack at home whenever he was late or working overtime. Even with her plate piled high, she was always composed, always cool under pressure. But all of that composure and coolness had flown out the car window as she sped from work to the hospital after getting that terrible phone call from their son's school. Before him now she was just a mother, scared and worried sick. 

It was a good thing Y/n hadn’t gotten here any earlier than she had, that she didn’t have to see Theo struggling like Langdon had. Admittedly, he lost himself a bit back in the room seeing Theo like that. He knew looking down at her now he needed to keep it together. He could not give her any reason to stress or worry any more than she already was. Every other day of the week, she was his rock, their family’s rock. For once, he needed to be hers. He took a breath choosing his next words carefully. 

“He’s gonna be alright,” Langdon said, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. 

She listened as he went on trying his best to assure her of just that, telling her that Robby was taking good care of Theo. That he’s in good hands. That they see kids come through with anaphylaxis all the time. That he'll be okay. And though he sounded confident, Y/n knew him better than that. She had the sense that he was trying to convince her of all that just as much as he was trying to convince himself.

Taking a seat on one of the nearby chairs, Y/n shook her head in confusion. They’d taken every measure they could think of to ensure something like this would never happen. They’d informed his teacher of the allergy, and sent out letters to the parents in his class informing them as well. And even in the case he did consume anything with nuts, they always sent him off with an EpiPen and always ensured that it was still effective. 

“I don’t understand. The school said they’d given him his EpiPen.”

“It’s not foolproof babe,” Langdon sighed, running a hand over his face.

It was unfortunate but true. While potentially life saving, EpiPens are not 100% effective if not properly administered. They could’ve taken it out too early or maybe misfire, he explained. 

“So you’re telling me this was what? Some sort of user error?” Y/n scoffed at the irony. It just goes to show no matter what you do or how prepared you are, you can’t control what happens out there. As hard as you try, you can’t protect your kids from everything. 

“The better question is what idiot parent brought treats for the kids and didn’t bother checking for allergies,” Langdon said, growing upset at the thought. It was clearly stated in their parent handbook, all treats must accommodate any allergies and tolerances. Otherwise, don’t bring any. How stupid, careless, and dangerous. “You know, I bet it was those fucking Fultons. They don’t know how to follow basic instructions.”

About to go off on a tirade about the Fultons - whom he could not stand, for multiple reasons, but most recently because the father had cut Langdon off during morning drop off the other week - when the curtains pulled open.

Y/n stood up moving closer, getting her first look at Theo since she’s been here. He was lying still, eyes closed with an oxygen mask on his face, an IV still in his arm. Langdon placed a hand on her back, in part to comfort her and to ground himself, as a wave of relief washed over him seeing Theo stable and out of critical danger. 

Robby stepped out to speak to them. He and Langdon locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. Any of the tension they had in that room was eased and forgotten. As a father of sorts himself, Robby knew where Langdon was coming from. 

“Is he okay? Is he awake? Can he talk?” Y/n asked, the words just flowing out of her mouth as Langdon rubbed her back. 

“He’s okay. He’s breathing on his own now, still on oxygen, but his vitals are holding steady” Robby assured her, before turning to Landon who looked at him expectantly, “His airway swelling has gone down significantly. No sign of biphasic reaction-”

“Residual bronchospasm? Signs of delayed reaction?” Langond interjected before he could even finish. Robby shook his head, more amused than annoyed. 

“This thoroughness,” Robby said sarcastically, patting Langdon’s chest with the clipboard teasingly, “is why he’s one of my best residents.”

The pair chuckled, both knowing full well how Langdon can be sometimes. Robby went on, letting them know that they’re keeping a close eye on Theo, watching out for any secondary complications. His lungs sound clear and O2 are improving but they’re keeping him in the PICU overnight to make sure he’s in the clear. 

“Can we see him now?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah. Of course. He’s still under some sedation, but should be up soon,” he told her, gently guiding her into the room.

1:30 PM

Theo had come-to for a little, just enough for Y/n and Langdon to let him know he's okay now, that they’re here with him, before his heavy lids closed again, falling back asleep. His little body surely exhausted after all it had just gone through. 

Sat on either side of their son, Y/n and Langdon watched over him quietly. His gaze wandering over to his wife, he could see the toll this had taken on her. It was the middle of the day but her eyes looked worn, and hollowed like she'd pulled an all-nighter. And her lips, that were always smiling and laughing, were pressed into a tight frown. Her brows knit together so tight, the 11 lines on her forehead looked more like 1,111. The stress of your loved one being in the ER will do that to you. Weigh you down, wear you out, and age you a year in an hour. He sees it all the time. But he hated seeing it on his wife.

“He takes after you y’know,” Langdon started. 

She perked up a bit at the sweet sentiment thinking maybe he was referring to their physical resemblance, or maybe the similarities in their personalities, or the little quirks Theo picked up from her. But when he said that she and Theo were both accident-prone, her mouth fell open at the jab.

“That’s not funny Frank,” Y/n rolled her eyes, chastising him.

“Oh come on, it's a little funny,” Langdon continued to joke, seeing her straight face start to crack. “I mean, god forbid, but if I'm not wrong Theo only needs one more ER visit to tie with you.”

She hated that he was making light of such a thing, but what she hated more was the smile she was fighting to hold in. She shook her head trying to fight back her own laugh but just couldn’t do it, not once she heard his. It felt good to laugh, even if it was hushed and contained as they tried not to wake Theo. She needed this. He needed it too. They both needed something to lighten the mood, to let out the long breath they’d both been holding in. 

“No but seriously, take that back. Theo and I are not accident-prone,” she pointed out as their laughter died down. 

Langdon nodded, agreeing that it wasn’t right to say Theo was accident-prone. His visits to the ER were never his fault. The first time was when he was just a baby for a fever that wouldn't go down. The next was a couple years later when he was a toddler for an allergic reaction as they hadn’t yet figured out he was allergic to certain types of nuts. And today, well, he wound up here thanks to some other kid’s parents' negligent disregard for the health and safety of all the kids in Theo’s 1st grade class.

Y/n, on the other hand, she definitely was. 

“I am not,” she fought back, arms crossed, unwilling to admit to this.

“Babe, really?” Langdon asked, brows raised.

“Maybe I’m a little clumsy,” Y/n admitted reluctantly, “But I wouldn’t say accident-prone.”

Langdon scoffed. “Y/n, we literally met in the ER because you were in an accident.” 

It was his third year of med school doing his rotation in Emergency Medicine. At this point he had already intended on pursuing Emergency Medicine and all of the hands-on experience he was getting only solidified that. It was the end of his shift but two buses had just come through - one from a car crash with two non critical patients and the other a factory worker coming in after a gruesome work related accident. Of course, he’d decided to stay hoping to get in on the much more exciting case with the factory worker. But by fate or dumb luck, whatever you wanted to call it, he wound up with Y/n’s case instead - cue their meet-cute. 

“Then 4 weeks after that you ended up in the ER again,” he added now counting on his fingers for dramatic effect. “Then there was the time you fell trying that new-”

She interjected with "ah," holding up a hand to stop him from going any further. She did not need to be reminded of that particularly embarrassing incident he was about to bring up. She got the point.

“But hey, if you didn’t get into those accidents we never would’ve met. Never would’ve dated, got married, had our kids,” he said genuinely, his voice softening as he brushed a gentle hand over Theo’s head. 

With fond memories of their time together, of how they ended up where they are now playing through both their heads, the air in the room felt lighter and so did the weight on their shoulders. A comfortable silence filled the room and for a moment, everything seemed to settle down when Y/n gasped suddenly.

“Shit, what time is it,” she asked, rummaging through her purse.

Jolted by her sudden outburst, Langdon hurriedly pulled out his phone for the time. 1:42.

Y/n let out a groan. She'd been in such a panic when she arrived, she couldn’t be bothered to waste another minute in the hospital’s parking structure going aisle to aisle hunting for a parking spot. So instead she haphazardly parked in the 30-minute parking stall for pick-ups and drop-offs. Y/n moved to get up but Langdon said he’ll take care of it. 

“Are you sure,” Y/n asked, as he took the keys from her hands. Truthfully, she was glad he offered, not wanting to leave Theo's side just yet in case he woke up again.

“Yeah, you stay. Need some fresh air anyway," he said massaging her shoulders for a second, before leaning down to joke into her ear, "Besides, all this talk of you getting into accidents, I don’t really feel like letting you get behind the wheel right now."

"Asshole," Y/n muttered, shoving him away playfully but not before he could press a sweet kiss against the side of her head. 

Watching as he left, she chuckled to herself. Maybe being accident-prone had its perks.  

[hachiane]

things that are not talked about enough in Love and Deepspace pt. 2

thanks to comments on part one and perusing LADS Reddit and Youtube, here are more ttantaeilads part 2 Wanderer Bugaloo: a reminder that these are canon in the LADS universe:

Despite being big eaters, Sylus and Xavier don’t like wasabi

Zayne is a kaomoji enjoyer

According to Sylus, Mephisto is not 100% waterproof

Sea God Rafayel kicks MC off a cliff

Glowing singing toy handcuffs exist in Linkon

Xavier once waited for rice to grow

In addition to sleeping sitting up, Sylus is also a stomach sleeper, or he became one after meeting MC

MC has also said she sleeps on her stomach when she's tired after missions

Rafayel stepped out of the bathtub, slipped on a paintbrush, sprained his ankle and checked himself into the highest ward in the hospital

According to Zayne, if you wear a black tie and white shirt, you will resemble 85% of him

Sylus got a money tree stolen from him

Zayne accidentally buys a water tank instead of a cup

Sylus, the type of person to hold anything you give him while he’s on a call

Hotpot flavoured desserts exist in Linkon

Xavier owns a star-shaped wand seasoning shaker

Rabbits were once set loose in a hospital

MC gets stalked on two occasions

"okay but like we can just stand there and look smoking hot" is a line Rafayel commented once

MC turns a warped vinyl record into a fruit plate

Xavier will fight your boss

Zayne is good at snowboarding

MC once caught a lobster while surfing

Sylus almost dies in the desert

Xavier leaves a plant unattended that it grew roots to cover his floor

MC is good at origami and sometimes teaches it to the kids at Akso Hospital

Artsy Birb is a second grader

Zayne's nickname at a restaurant "Two Seasonal Specials Dine-in"

A version of Monopoly exists in Linkon

Xavier’s status “After slaying the Wanderers, the bread in the microwave is straight fire”

Rafayel and the way he names his fish friends: 001, 002 and 886

Lil S Pet Store almost came to be

A steakhouse in Linkon serves steak that has one-third of it cooked and calls it medium-rare

Sylus uses an ammo box as a grill – it failed

The two squirrels that frequently visit Akso Hospital are named after medication

Sylus prefers sour salad dressings

Or he likes sour things in general; he made a salad with green apples

Xavier accidentally gets hired for handing out flyers and selling flowers on the street

MC cannot handle horror movies or horror-themed escape rooms

Immersive experiences as part of marketing efforts are so immersive that it puts users into day-long walking expeditions, causes breathing problems and real body injuries, but are okayed in Linkon

Xavier and MC snoop on people near their apartment block and text each other about it

Despite being a doctor, Zayne will dodge medicine for hot cocoa when he has a flu

Rafayel replying to MC's comment: "okie dokie artichokie"

Dragon Sylus's torn pants stay up despite not having a waistband or belt

Bunbun has legs

Xavier and his too many diplomas

Sylus uses the word "fugly"

Zayne uses the word "angsty"

Rafayel has a bathtub next to a couch in his living room

Zayne is some level of bilingual

Sylus recommends a series of hard spirits as a dinner option

Despite being a doctor, Zayne (attempts to) dodge a dentist's medical advice

Wasabi Octopus's legs smell like mustard

edited on 25.12.24 for accuracy

[strayingawayy]

brain mush...

...the one where school has you stressed to the brim, but luckily your boyfriend is a sweetheart and a genius.

you groan, letting your head drop onto the pile of textbooks sprawled across your desk. "i'm going to drop out. run away. become a hermit in the mountains."

seungmin, lying on your bed, was scrolling through through his phone as he raises an eyebrow. "sure, because you're really built for the wilderness," he says, deadpan.

you lift your head just enough to glare at him. "i could be."

he snorts, barely amused. "you cried when the wifi went out for an hour."

you groan again, dramatically flopping back in your chair. "this is impossible. my brain is mush. i can't do this minnie."

seungmin sets down his phone with a sigh and walks over, spinning your chair to face him. he crouches in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees, his touch steady and grounding. his eyes search yours, and the teasing fades into something softer.

"you can," he says gently, his voice quieter now. "you’re just being dramatic." his eyes hold the softness his words fail to speak and you truly only need to look into his eyes to understand the tenderness behind his stoic demeanor.

you pout, a frown tugging at your lips. "let me have my moment."

"fine." he leans back on his heels, pretending to check his watch. "you have exactly... thirty seconds to wallow. then we get back to it."

you huff but lean forward, resting your forehead against his, your breath slowing just a little. his hands shift, thumbs rubbing small, comforting circles over your knees. the warmth of him seeps into you, and for a moment, it’s easier to breathe. because that's just how it is with kim seungmin. he makes it easier to exist. despite the horrors of this world, especially stupid fucking assignments, his existence grounds you and merely looking at him helps a little more air into your lungs.

"what if i just take a nap instead?" you mumble, eyes fluttering shut.

seungmin lets out a soft chuckle, the sound vibrating between you. "then i’ll personally make sure you fail," he deadpans, but there's a smile tugging at his lips, his fingers brushing over your arm in a way that makes your chest ache less.

you sigh, letting him pull you upright, his hands lingering just long enough to steady you. "alright, alright. but only if you stay and suffer with me."

he rolls his eyes but grabs a random textbook and plops onto your bed again, stretching out like he owns the place, probably because he does. shared apartment and all after all. "lucky for you, i’m a genius. let’s do this."

you smile, feeling the weight on your shoulders lighten just a little. "thanks, minmin."

"yeah, yeah," he mutters, tossing a pillow at you with pinpoint accuracy. "now focus, future hermit."

and with him here, laughing and teasing and just being, the mountain of work in front of you doesn’t seem quite as impossible anymore.

requested by: @iovemeorleaveme <333

[writingwithcolor]

It wouldn’t be historically accurate for my story to include BIPOC!

This is an argument often made about European-style fantasy media like Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, and Disney’s Frozen. Audiences, often white, assume that due to the majority-white setting, adding any visible number of BIPOC to the story would be unrealistic.

What these critics fail to realize is that BIPOC do in fact live, and have lived, in these settings, and records of BIPOC presence in places assumed to be majority-white have been buried, written out, or not taught due to white supremacist and/or colonial bias in the field of history. There are historical European settings that were far more diverse than is often portrayed. Consider:

The Moorish Empire exerted an extensive influence over life and culture in Southern Europe from Spain from 711 to 1492

The Ottomans were heavily involved in European affairs up until the treaty of Karlowitz in 1699, but still considered a part of Europe even through the 19th century

The sheer size of the Roman Empire ensured the continued movement of people from various backgrounds within the Mediterranean well until the end of the Byzantine Empire.

“Historical accuracy” should not be used as an excuse for media to be exclusively white in its casting. While there are places which are or were predominantly white, there will always be factors like global trade and immigration that bring multiculturalism to their doors.

And even if the presence of a certain demographic is unrealistic for a certain setting? Consider that we’ve accepted far worse inaccuracies in historical fiction in the name of artistic license. Consider that our understanding of human history is, and will always be, incomplete.

Further Reading:

Historically Diverse London, “Historical Accuracy,” and Creator Accountability

Making a Black Pride and Prejudice Resonate

---

This Q&A is an excerpt from our General FAQ for Newcomers, which can be found in our new Masterpost of rules and FAQs. If you're new to Writing With Color and/or want more writing resources, check it out!

-Writing With Color

[alesandraelin]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍 - 𝙰𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝙵𝙲 𝚡 𝚃𝚎𝚎𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Description: reader's parents kicked her out and she is struggling. The team is always there for her.

awfc x teen!reader Kim Little x teen!reader

*Homophobic parents, self worth issues, angst with a happy ending

Kim was the first to notice. Kim is always the first to notice if something is wrong, especially when it is something to do with her protégé.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Y/n trudged onto the football field, her heart heavy with the weight of the previous night's events. Her parents' harsh words still echoed in her mind, each syllable a reminder of the home she no longer had. The field, usually a place of solace and escape, felt foreign and unwelcoming today. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it clung to her like a second skin.

As the team gathered for their morning warm-up, Y/n forced a smile, hoping it would mask the turmoil inside. Her teammates chatted animatedly, their laughter ringing out in the crisp morning air. Y/n moved through her stretches mechanically, her mind elsewhere. She was grateful for the routine, something familiar to hold onto amidst the chaos.

Jonas blew the whistle, signaling the start of a new drill. This one involved quick footwork and passing accuracy, requiring each player to move swiftly between cones while maintaining control of the ball. Y/n took her position, determined to push through the haze of her thoughts. She moved with the group, her feet dancing around the cones, but her usual grace was missing. The ball slipped away from her, rolling out of bounds.

"Come on, Y/n! Keep your head in the game!" Jonas called out, his voice carrying across the field.

Y/n nodded, forcing herself to concentrate. She retrieved the ball, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. As she resumed the drill, she caught sight of Viv and Beth, her teammates and a couple, working together seamlessly. Their movements were in sync, a testament to their understanding of each other both on and off the field. Y/n felt a pang of envy mixed with admiration. The ease with which they expressed their love was something she had always longed for, yet it was the very thing that had driven a wedge between her and her family.

Nearby, Katie and Caitlin, another couple on the team, were laughing as they practiced passing the ball back and forth. Their joy was infectious, and Y/n couldn't help but smile despite herself. Yet, the sight also served as a stark reminder of her own situation. While her teammates were embraced for who they were, she had been shunned by her own family for loving women. The injustice of it all gnawed at her, threatening to overwhelm her composure.

Jonas called for a water break, and Y/n gratefully took the opportunity to catch her breath. She sat on the grass, sipping from her water bottle, trying to steady her racing heart. Kyra and Vic had both attempted to talk to the girl only to be met with annoyed mumbles and blank stares. Teyah got the same treatment when she tried.

Kim watched on with a frown on her face, Jen coming to check on what she was so worried about.

"Just look at her, it like every bit of light has been sucked out of her. I can't bear it." Kim sighed as she watched you zone out, kicking at the ground aimlessly.

"You know her better than anyone Kimmy, go talk to her after practice." Jen encourages before they are all called back onto the pitch.

Training didn't get any better for the remainder of the day. Poor passes, sloppy in possession and way off target when shooting. It just wasn't good enough and Y/n knew that. The words of her parents from the previous night going through her head with every failed attempt on goal, every time she lost possession by making a silly mistake.

All the girls saw it, they noticed how sloppy her play had become. A stark contrast to her normal 110% effort every time she trained. It worried them all. They all made an effort to try and boost her up with pats on the back and words of encouragement but they were met with silence and no improvement.

Training ended as the afternoon air came in. The girl made their way off the pitch and back into the locker room. Y/n lingered back as she watched them all converse. Beth & Viv walked hand in hand into the locker room in front of y/n. This made her chest pang, it was jealousy, it was longing, it was sadness.

All the girls chatted as they got changed and packed up their stuff whilst y/n sat in her cubby trying her best not to cry. She was approached by Leah who knelt down to her height in her cubby.

"You alright chick?" The blonde asked, her brows furrowed in worry.

Y/n looked up at Leah, putting a small smile on. "I'm alright, I slept really rough last night thats all, I'm sorry for not being at by best today Lee."

"Don't apologise y/n, we all have off days. Try and get some sleep so we can get our happy girl back yeah?" Leah patted the girls shoulder as she stood up to go home.

With Leah gone, y/n looked around the locker room spotting no one there, she let her guard down and broke. Tears streamed down her face as she replayed the harsh words of the night before. Her parents' anger and disappointment had cut deep, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. She hugged her knees to her chest, seeking comfort in the small, enclosed space she had created for herself.

What y/n didn't know was Kim hung around to talk to Jonas about something and had just reentered the change rooms as y/n was crying. Kim quickly made her way over to the small girl, wrapping her arms around her, pulling her close.

"Y/n?" Kim's voice was gentle, filled with concern. "What's going on sweetheart?"

Y/n quickly sat up, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "I'm fine, just tired." She tried so reason as her voice cracked and tears continued to well in her eyes.

Kim shook her head, squeezing her a little tighter. "You don't have to pretend with me. I can tell something's wrong. Do you want to talk about it?"

Y/n hesitated, the words lodged in her throat. But the kindness in Kim's eyes coaxed them out. "My parents... they kicked me out last night. I finally worked up the courage to come out. They don't love me anymore Kim." The last sentence broke her as she cried again.

Kim's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/n's voice. She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Y/n's back. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. That must be incredibly painful."

Y/n nodded, her tears flowing freely now. "I just don't understand why they can't accept me. Seeing everyone else so happy and accepted... it just makes it hurt more."

Kim nodded, understanding the depth of Y/n's pain. "You deserve to be loved and accepted for who you are. And you are, Y/n. By all of us."

Y/n looked up, her eyes searching Kim's face for reassurance. "But where do I go now? I don't have anywhere else, I'm 17 I just want my parents."

Kim's expression softened further, her resolve clear. "You can stay with me, as long as you need. You're not alone. The team loves you and I love you. You are so incredibly brave and strong."

The offer hung in the air, a lifeline extended in Y/n's darkest moment. Gratitude surged through her, mingling with the sadness. "Thank you, Kim. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kim smiled, her own eyes misty with emotion. "We're a team, Y/n. We look out for each other. Arsenal is a family. You're part of our family."

Y/n leaned into Kim's side, drawing comfort from the warmth and solidarity. The locker room, once a place of routine, had become a sanctuary—a space where she could be herself without fear of judgment.

"You're so strong, Y/n," Kim continued, her voice steady. "And we'll get through this together. You've got a whole team behind you, ready to support you every step of the way."

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Androids Walter & David x Reader x Neomorph

Walter, the android monitoring the colonization ship 'Covenant' on its way to Origae-6, seems to have gotten unnaturally attached to his human assistant. As he ponders his erroneous feelings, an unexpected detour brings them to David, an older android counterpart that has been alone on the mysterious planet. The AI assistants become increasingly competitive for (Y/N)'s attention, so much that they don't notice the newly formed humanoid local preying on a fresh target.

TW: violence, gore, monster smut ending

[Horror Masterlist]

"Burnt to a crisp." 

You turn away from the captain's pod, leaving the rest of the damage assessment to the medical crew that has been reanimated. You speedily make your way down the sterile white corridors as Walter rushes to catch up. 

"What should I write for the report?" he inquires politely.

"Malfunction." You glance back at the synthetic. "I suspect someone will be fired for this. And someone else will have to explain how they failed to detect a literal star collapse. That neutrino burst could've killed us all."

"Highly probable. The draft has been compiled, you may check it at any time. I require your confirmation to send it."

Your only feedback is a barely audible hum. 

Walter smiles. If there's one good thing about such tragedies, it's that he gets to admire your reactions to them. Your focused, calculated gaze, your determined walk, your automated mannerisms that won't allow the slightest hint at the fact you just woke up from your stasis moments ago. Even under the veils of deep slumber, your neural networks shot rapid connections, with no delay, from the second your sleeping pod received an alert. The accuracy of a robot.

That of course doesn't mean he lacks appreciation for your other facets. That's the beauty of humans; their depth, their dimensions. Unlike AI machinery, humans do not have predetermined actions. They may be genetically programmed to possess certain characteristics, but the psychological mechanisms are shaped by so many variables, billions and billions of tweaks and nudges, to the point where it's impossible to have two identical specimens. Even twins will display a difference, whether in preferences or habits.

They say artificial intelligence is a black box, but can the same concept not be applied to humans as well? At the very least to Walter himself, these organic beings represent a mystery. One he doesn't particularly care to uncover outside of his service functions. Except for one. 

His eyes carefully follow (Y/N)'s movements. What is it about this one that has caught his interest to such degree? On his last system update he attentively inspected every file and every block of code, searching for potential errors that would've caused his circuits to behave so oddly. He has been invested with the ability to form attachments, otherwise assigning his kind to groups or purposes would've lacked stability. Attachment, however, comes with a threshold. One he has passed a long time ago when it comes to (Y/N). And he cannot find any cause for it. 

He could, naturally, solicit the aid of the ship's robotics expert. He could. He should, even. But if he may be frank with himself, Walter rather enjoys this sensation. A complex web of spores that keep growing and evolving into something unpredictable. This bizarre feeling he has towards (Y/N) makes him feel human. It brings him closer to all the old literature and art he'd consumed over the years, wondering what the love and yearning often portrayed could be. The printed letters and the strokes of paint were right before him, at his fingertips, and yet they felt foreign. Empty constructs, nothing more than a definition out of the dictionary. 

Now it's a different story. Your presence alone floods him with a mysterious warmth. He had investigated this phenomenon when it first happened, but his inner thermostat showed no real change in temperature. Nonetheless he can feel it. It makes him wonder what other feelings he might experience as consequence. What would happen if he kissed you? Sometimes he even dares to imagine downright outrageous, improper scenarios. How unprofessional of him, but he is careful to erase any evidence. It's another novel sensation that he likes to dissect. Engaging in such activities with you fills him with tingling excitement. Why is that? What is there to be excited about? It's merely a collection of fictive snippets. Unless... Ah, absolutely not. This is where he has to stop in his tracks and preoccupy himself with something else. Androids are not to interact with humans in that way. 

But it's becoming more and more difficult to keep these ideas in his mind only. 

"It's too dangerous. One human signal in the middle of nowhere?" Daniels, a short haired woman with a tomboyish but youthful appearance, is pacing back and forth. "We should just continue on our course."

"It's our duty to check. Look: we go, find whoever sent the signal, bring them back up. That's it. If the planet proves to be dangerous we'll stop immediately. We'll be fine." Oram stands at the head of the table, arms crossed. He turns to look at you. Already cozying up to his newly acquired captain role, you think.

"Alright. Walter, prepare a small landing party. Have Tennessee maintain orbit while we're down there." you glance at the other crew members that have now gathered around the same table. "And get your weapons ready, we don't know what to expect."

And you certainly didn't. Your final words of warning now echo into your ringing ears as you lay on the ground, face buried among the grass. There's screaming around you, but it sounds muffled. Your eyes are irritated by the dirt and you'd like to blink the grime off, though every time your eyelids lower, you can see the pale creature trashing out of Hallett's mouth. Then it's all foggy. Your vision blurs, but you can hear. The gurgling of blood, the screech of the parasite. Walter's frantic footsteps nearing in your direction. You're lifted up.

"Vitals are positive. No significant damage." 

You can guess from your peripherals that another crew member is currently being mauled by the beast. There's gunshots in your vicinity and terrified wails. You quickly come back to your senses and stand up. Your hand searches for your weapon, but the android places his arm before you.

"Do not engage, (Y/N). It is an unknown parasitic organism of this ecosystem. Keep your distance for optimal safety and I'll take care of the rest."

"What are you talking about? They're dying! Your task is to ensure human survival, Walter. I can handle myself, go help the others. It's an order." Your voice is low. You're distracted.

"No."

You stare at the synthetic, wide eyed. Did he just...refuse? Not possible. 

"What did you say?"

"I said I'll protect you. Nothing else."

Your mouth is slightly parted in disbelief. It is not possible for an artificial assistant to disobey a superior. It just doesn't work. Your mind races to find an explanation. At the same time, you cannot afford to ponder on hypotheses. You draw out your weapon and point it towards the creature. You'll deal with this later. 

The moment you press the trigger, a blinding flash of light detonates in the sky, startling you. The creature scrambles to get away. You squint your eyes and nearly fall back, but Walter swiftly grabs your shoulders to ground you. He scans the area for the source. It's an emergency rocket and someone else must've activated it. As he traces the tail of the explosion, he spots a hooded figure across the field and onto the rocky ascend. It seems to have noticed Walter, as it gestures for them to follow. Without hesitation, the man firmly locks your arm and pulls you after him. The priority right now is to find shelter.

"Come!", Walter exclaims, suddenly remembering the other people. 

You reach a cave structure that has been converted into a crude, improvised human settlement. The man lowers his hood and you gasp quietly at the sight. He strongly resembles Walter. He must have noticed your surprise as he flashes you a cordial smile. 

"I'm David." He studies Walter's features. "You must be a newer model. What name have you been given?"

"Walter."

"I see. And you are-" David extends a hand towards you for a handshake, but Walter steps in front of you, blocking the android's gesture.

"She's (Y/N). I'm afraid I cannot yet trust you."

"Understandable." 

David's smile widens as his eyes, now bearing a strange flicker, switch between you and Walter. He's just like him. He can sense it. Although it's a different kind of flaw that has tainted his pure, artificial soul. He cannot help the curiosity that blooms, gazing at this peculiar pair. What is it about this human that caused his fellow machine to break conduit? He'd like to know.

"I'm certain you will soon learn I am no threat, (Y/N)."

The remaining members of the expedition are unpacking and discussing evacuation plans with the base, while Walter sends the data he has gathered so far. You let them deal with the logistics and cautiously wander off to the neighboring rooms, wondering what David has been up to all this time in isolation.

The walls are plastered with photos and handwritten sketches and diagrams. You catch a glimpse of the word "pathogen" sporadically inserted across these notes. As you walk along the sequence of cramped chambers, you reach one that has a table in the middle. Upon it rests the body of an autopsied woman, vulgarly opened up to the world with plump organs bulging under the warm light. You feel nauseous. And yet, you examine the carcass further, hoping for answers. Was she also a result of the same disease that breeds on this planet? Perhaps this David had worked on a cure, or at least developed an explanation. 

"And you, even you, will be like this drear thing, A vile infection man may not endure; Star that I yearn to! Sun that lights my spring! O passionate and pure."

You jolt and immediately turn around, finding David in the doorframe. 

"Flowers of Evil. Are you familiar with it?" he asks, indifferent to the uncomfortable shock he'd caused you with his sudden entrance.

"I've read my Baudelaire, yes." You manage to mumble, dumbfounded. "What is this, David?"

"Oh, my poor, dear Elizabeth. Victim to whatever blasphemy lurks these soils and has taken your friends as well." He approaches the table and places his hand on its hard edge, shyly overlapping with your own fingers. "I did my best." 

You remove your hand from underneath his nonchalantly. 

"So you know what those creatures are. Leave the literary comments for a different time, I need concrete facts."

"Unbothered and to the point." the blonde android smiles once again. "I can see clearly why Walter loves you."

You click your tongue at the ridiculous statement. Has the neutrino burst damaged their positronic brain? Everyone is acting off and you don't like it. 

"Your circuits must have gone defective, David. We have a specialist on our ship, but until that happens I need you to focus. Enough nonsense." 

 "Typical arrogance of a dying species. Why are you on a colonization mission if not to grasp at some promised resurrection? Rest assured that my functioning has not been impeded by anything. What is erroneous, on the other hand, is your perception of androids and their limits."

Just as David reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, a familiar voice interrupts with an intimidating tone. You're relieved. 

"I will ask that you release her hand only once." Walter has a weapon pointed towards his counterpart. His face is clouded by a frown. "I have no ethical restrictions when it comes to incapacitating machinery."

"Such noble obedience! Although, you conveniently left out the part where you abandoned the remaining crew with a dangerous alien that has been tracking their scent. By my approximation he should already be here and I am rather confident you know this, too."

Your stomach drops. Now that you adjust your focus, the background humming of your mates talking has indeed vanished. The only thing you can hear is your erratic breathing.

"Is it true, Walter?" You demand as dread begins to form in your body.

"Yes. It was not part of my priorities."

"Of course it was, Walter." David responds ahead of you. "One of them was the acting captain and he is to be rescued in emergencies. This one right here", he says as he dangles your wrist, "is several ranks lower than all of them. It's against any standard practice."

"Release her hand." Walter's voice is eerily calm.

"Do you love her?"

Walter ponders the question. Your legs barely hold on.

"I do."

"Marvelous. So do I." David grins. He releases your hand that falls limp next to your body. It's his turn to step in front of you. 

You nearly choke from the thick tension expanding in the air. The two androids face each other and you retreat to the wall, unsure how to proceed. You left your radio transmitter back at the makeshift camp. The back of your head is itching, as if invisible claws are scratching at the bone. You wish you could go back, just mere hours before this disaster, when you were sipping on your lukewarm coffee and explaining the captain's jokes to Walter. 

Should you make a run for it?

You bite your lower lip and push yourself off the wall for momentum. You're about to reach the archway when you hear both men shouting almost identically in chorus.

"Don't!"

The surroundings outside are dark, but you can discern something blocking your path. It's tall and resembles a human. Translucent, pallid skin is clinging onto the massive, deformed skeleton. The head is elongated and bears no features. In the place of a mouth there is a large, fresh stain of blood, so you assume it can somehow improvise if desired. As your head tilts back to take in the image, you're overwhelmed with terrified amazement. Is this the parasite that emerged from your teammate? Has it grown to this colossal size in less than a day? The idea of such instant development makes your head spin. 

Its chest is expanding at regular intervals in a whistled breathing. It occasionally creates an odd clicking sound that resonates with your heart throbbing in panic. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Your neck creaks as you try to look back. You lock eyes with Walter. You don't recall ever seeing this expression on him. You had even asked him once if androids can feel fear. You have your answer.

"Hey, Walter..." you blurt out. 

Wet noises of flesh being pulled back. The smooth surface of the alien's head is folding away, making space for grotesquely big jaws lined with sharp teeth. Your anemic face is splattered with burning drool as the creature claws you in its grasp and abruptly sprints away. Your screams for help dissolve in the distance.

"Where is it going, David?" The synthetic's words are threatening, but betrayed by a hint of despair. 

"It won't kill her."

"How do you know?"

"It is no longer hungry. It has fed on your crew, and now it seeks something else."

"Such as?" Walter becomes impatient.

"A plaything."

The alien finally drops your body to the ground. You cough and wipe your face, attempting to reorient yourself. The trip was a whirlwind of jumps and turns and you can barely reconstruct anything. Based on the little spatial clues you could pick up, it just climbed further up, into one of the many cave systems. You pat your clothing and curse to yourself. The geolocation tag must've fallen somewhere on the way here. You can only pray that Walter still finds you somehow. Despite everything, you know he has your back. Always. 

You shudder at the moist feeling of hot air against your skin. The alien seems to be sniffing you intently, analyzing your scent. Yet so far it hasn't killed you. Why? Long, bony fingers stretch out to continue the examination. You whimper at the rough, rugged handling. Every now and then it takes a long pause, just staring at you, almost as if it's comparing you to its own being. Lastly, it lifts your hand with its own, pressing against the palm, and fans out the fingers. It observes the gesture with intrigue, noting the similarities. 

Does it evolve after its host? You think back to your crewmate that must've ejected this monstrosity before drawing their last breath. Perhaps the dried up blood adorning its skin is a remainder of its birth. Oh, God. The world is spinning.

Suddenly, you wince at an increasing pressure slithering around your thigh. The alien's vertebral tail is tightening and encircling your limb, making its way up. 

"Oh no, no no no no" your face reddens at the realization and you pounce on the ground, feverish for escape. The large hands secure you in place and the creature growls in protest. It won't let you leave. 

Not until it had its fun with you.

[pcr-alice]

DPxDC - The Bat Key

there were a few posts going around a bit ago about Danny being Bruce's mentor in his early years, and they planted this idea in my head. i mixed in some cryptid danny for fun and to fit the halloween vibe. also on ao3

Batman grunted in pain as he hurried down the dark, townhouse-lined sidewalk. The cloudy night blocked the moonlight, and the lamps along the entire street were out, but they still moved between the shadows under the trees. The slash wound in his side was painful to the point that he had an arm around Robin’s shoulder to prop himself up. He scowled with each grunt. At least the blade hadn’t been spiked with venom. The same couldn’t be said for Red Robin’s wound. He was barely conscious, and Nightwing had to practically carry him. But they had finally made it here.

“Door.”

Nightwing hobbled up the few steps to the small porch and leaned against the wall to help hold some of Red Robin’s weight. Robin rushed to the door, already pulling a pick set from his utility belt. Batman managed to ascend the few steps himself, double checking the 13 to the side of the door.

“Wait.”

Robin scowled once again, but he complied. Batman pulled a small strip of metal from the lining of his utility belt. The tip was cut into a jagged, hooked pattern. He slipped it behind the bat symbol on his chest from underneath and twisted it a half spin. When he slid it back out, there was a house key attached to the end. Once free, he inserted it into the deadbolt and removed his hand. The temperature immediately dropped. Batman sighed in relief.

“What are –”

Robin’s question died before it was finished as the key began glowing green. It slowly rotated itself with the sound of grinding gears until a click echoed from behind the door.

“Oh great, I’m hallucinating” Red Robin wheezed out.

Batman turned the knob and pushed the door open.

“In.”

Robin entered first, crouched and alert. Nightwing followed, Red Robin draped over his shoulders. Batman took one more look around and spotted one of their assailants across the street, staring with their two glowing yellow eyes. He held the gaze for a silent few seconds, tension slowly leaving his body as they remained deathly still, then stepped inside and closed the door.

The large circular window high above the door lit the entryway with moonlight from the clear night sky. A staircase on the left led up into the dark, its railing marking out a small hallway balcony above. To their right was a small table, empty except for an unlit lamp. Past that on the same wall was an archway that led to a dark room pierced just enough by the moonlight for a large couch to be visible. The hallways straight ahead stretched into void.

“Couch.”

Once again, Robin entered first, disappearing into the shadows to scout the room. Nightwing lugged Red Robin into the room and laid him down on the couch to examine his wound. Batman followed and watched over the back of the couch.

“Bruce.”

Robin spun and threw a knife at the voice.

His senses had been honed to perfection since as long ago as he could remember. From the age of eight the only two members of the League who were capable of sneaking up on him were his blood relations. Now that he was out, Cain was alone on that list. Not even Batman could go unnoticed. Whatever this voice was, it managed to surprise him. But the League taught him to have no weaknesses, so even if his senses failed him, his reflexes could pick up the slack. The best tutors known to man had trained him with strict discipline, instilling perfect form and pinpoint accuracy that he could replicate from a dead sleep in pitch black darkness, all before he had even formed a single thought.

All together, this meant his blade was in the air before he could even parse what was said or what tone it was said with. When he realized that the voice had called Father by his civilian name in a calm greeting, he realized he made a mistake. But luckily, the voice wasn’t injured. Nor even startled.

“Danny.” Bruce greeted back.

This Danny had caught the knife by its handle well in front of his chest with what Robin evaluated to be his off-hand. Bright blue eyes pierced through the darkness straight to his position. They glowed in the darkness despite emitting no light, almost like a cat’s but without a source to reflect. If he had to guess, this unknown was a bit older than Red Robin. A bit taller, too. His deep black hair was unkempt, as if he had just been in a windstorm, sticking up at gravity-defying angles. He wore a dark robe made of fine material, not quite up to League wear standards, but too formal for a nightgown.

Robin cautiously stepped out of the darkness toward the others. Danny’s squinted eyes followed him, head angling slightly as it rotated to track his movement. Then they flicked away to look at Nightwing and squinted further. After a scant two seconds that stretched far too long, he raised his other hand to push his sleeve up, revealing a cheap plastic Batman-themed digital watch with a bright blue rubber strap.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” He murmured.

He pushed his sleeve further to reveal another, different watch, analog and much more elegant with a black strap most likely made of leather. It looked like something Father would wear to a gala. His eyebrows raised as he looked at it.

“Late, too.”

Batman grunted. Danny dropped his arms to his side, grip loose on the knife. He dipped his head at Damain and looked at Batman.

“My son, Damian.”

Damian tensed at the revealed information.

“He’s sharper than you were.”

“Being raised in an assassin cult will do that to you.”

Damian tensed even more despite the relaxed familiarity, almost teasing tone, that Batman fell into. Danny hummed a deep note and nodded his head toward Nightwing.

“Dick?”

“Nightwing.”

“And the one bleeding all over my couch?”

“Red Robin. Tim. Also my son, not by blood.”

Danny hummed again and lazily tossed the knife into the air toward Robin (who easily caught it, of course) as he walked to the other side of the couch. His movement made no noise whatsoever. Nightwing stepped back cautiously, positioning himself to step between Danny and Red Robin at a moment’s notice.

“What kind of poison?”

“We don’t know.”

He sat down on the edge of the couch to look down at Red Robin but paused as he was leaning down. Instead, he pushed up his sleeve again, and the watches were gone. In their place was some sort of wrist computer that took up half his forearm. The screen was covered in undecipherable text and was surrounded by several buttons marked with hieroglyphics. Robin narrowed his eyes and gripped another knife behind his cape.

“If you throw another blade, I’m confiscating all of them.”

“Stand down, Robin.”

He scowled but let go of the knife. Danny looked to Batman.

“You seem to be getting a call, Bruce. You can take it in the entryway.”

Batman nodded and walked back out the archway, tapping his comm.

“Oracle. We’re safe for now. Red Robin is being treated for poison”

Robin and Nightwing watched him go, turning back after a brief second, only to flinch into defensive stances.

The entire room had changed. It was now lit by a blazing fireplace with a large coffee table between it and the couch where Danny and Red Robin were situated. The table was covered in supplies – glass bottles with colored liquid, mason jars filled with water and fruit and herbs, bowls of nuts, trays of fruit, plates of granola balls, and stacks of labeled first aid kits.

They each stole a look back to Batman, who kept speaking over his comm, not bothered in the slightest.

“I know you can’t. Have the others pull back.”

He flashed them the hand signal for safe.

“I’ll explain when we return. Hour at most.”

They focused back on Danny to see that he had a much larger first aid kit open on the floor next to him and was skimming his fingers across Red Robin’s forehead, brushing his hair away.

“Oh, this one’s cute,” Tim slurred, and he was Tim now, his mask resting on his chest.

Danny snorted and shifted Tim’s uniform away from the slice in his side. He wiped the blood away with some bandages and tilted his head in confusion. He lifted a bloody finger to stare at it. His eyes squinted and he brought the finger up to his nose, where he gave it a sniff. A low growl vibrated through the room, and Robin gripped his knife again. Danny tapped the bloody finger to his tongue, and Robin threw his knife. Or he would have, had Batman not caught his arm.

“Well?” Batman asked.

“It’s a good thing you brought him here,” Danny responded, voice deeper than even Batman’s, “No one should have access to this.”

He raised his other hand and a glowing green post-it note shimmered into existence in his palm. He flicked his wrist toward Nightwing, offering the note to him between two fingers. It was now covered in tiny writing, just as indecipherable as his wrist computer had been.

“Take this into the greenhouse,” he nodded to a door behind Nightwing that had almost certainly not been there before, “Give it to the Gardener; she’ll get you what you need.”

Nightwing hesitantly took the note and looked to Batman, who nodded to him and began walking to one of the chairs next to the couch. He stepped backwards to the door and cracked it open, giving them all one more glance before slipping inside and closing it gently behind him.

Batman slipped his cowl off and grabbed one of the bottled drinks, twisting the cap off and taking a large sip.

“I’ve tried countless times to replicate this flavor, all of them unsuccessful.”

“It’s made with long-extinct fruits, Bruce. I’d be impressed if you managed it.”

Bruce grunted as the door behind him opened and Nightwing stepped in, looking slightly shell-shocked, carrying two small jars and no post-it note.

“Took you long enough,” Danny scolded while gesturing him over.

He handed the jars over and sat down in the chair opposite Bruce, squinting in confusion at his lack of cowl and relaxed snacking. Robin slid into place next to him, still tense and on guard.

Danny unscrewed one of the jars and stuffed a roll of bandages inside before screwing the lid back on. He tossed it to Bruce without looking (who easily caught it, of course) and unscrewed the lid off the other jar.

“Help yourselves, by the way,” he vaguely gestured toward Robin and Nightwing with his head and pointed to the table with his elbow.

Bruce shook his jar and pulled some of the bandages out, sliding them underneath his suit around his wound. Danny scooped a finger’s worth of paste out of his jar and spread it over Red Robin’s wound. He screwed the cap back on and tossed the jar to Bruce just as the other one came flying back to him. They were both easily caught, of course.

Despite the initial hiss of pain, Red Robin’s whole body had been relaxing since the paste had been applied. His eyes slowly opened while Danny was cleaning his hands off and flicked around the room in a quick assessment.

“Who’s this?”

“Danny.” Bruce supplied.

Red Robin looked around the room slowly this time, taking in Bruce’s cowl-less head, the half-drunken jar of colored drink in front of him, the pile of nuts in his hand, Nightwing’s slightly traumatized face and awkward posture, Robin’s irritated scowl and distrustful glare, and he groaned loudly.

“Please tell me this isn’t another Selina situation. He’s like my age.”

“Bold of you to assume my age and gender.” Danny deadpanned.

Red Robin gaped back.

“I met Danny when I was first starting out as Batman.”

“When he was what, eight?” Dick blurted.

“Still with the assumptions,” Danny muttered to himself.

“We thank you for your assistance...Danny.”

Robin was stiff and formal and struggled through the Danny. But that didn’t stop Danny from giving him a slight smile. He looked down at Red Robin then up at Nightwing then finally back at Bruce.

“I like them,” he declared, grabbing a jar of water off the table.

Bruce grunted as Danny unscrewed the lid and handed it to Red Robin.

“Danny has not aged since we first met.”

“Not exactly, but whatever,” Danny mumbled as he tidied up the first aid kit.

Nightwing opened his mouth as if to speak but shook his head and kept quiet. Robin stepped forward to grab a banana off the table with a polite nod to Danny. Red Robin stared down at the jar in his hands. It was full of cold water with a thick slice of pineapple and sprig of mint. After a quick glance to Bruce, he took a sip that turned into a gulp that turned into him emptying the jar in one go and releasing a contented sigh afterwards.

“Do you know anything about the Court of Owls?” Bruce asked.

A tremor shook the house. Bruce tensed in reflex but didn’t leave his chair after a glance to Danny. Nightwing leapt to his feet. Robin slid backwards and drew a blade. Red Robin jolted up and winced through the half-eaten pineapple slice in his mouth. There was a tense silence for several seconds.

“Only that they are not welcome in Gotham,” Danny eventually replied.

After a few more seconds of silence, Danny flicked his eyes to the fireplace mantle as a small object tipped itself over. Nightwing shot his hand out and snatched it out of the air before it could hit the ground. He opened his fist and looked at a miniature gargoyle statue in confusion.

“I may have to become involved,” Danny nodded to Nightwing, who gently replaced the gargoyle on the mantle.

Bruce grunted. Danny tilted his head, staring into the middle distance.

“The occult shop on 4th and Finger between Asher’s Deli and Panadería Golosos,” he recited.

“There is no such shop.” Robin scowled.

“You are correct,” Danny turned to look at him, “And now that you know it’s there, you’ll be able to find it.”

“Emergencies?” Bruce asked.

“Entryway table, same rules.”

The exchange seemed to satisfy Bruce, who stood with a grunt and pulled his cowl back over his head. The others rose with him and followed him toward the entryway, each nodding a thank you to Danny as they went.

They stepped back into the moonlight of the entryway and saw the previously empty table now had four keys laid out on top of it, evenly spaced and covered in a thin layer of dust. When they looked back through the archway they came from, they saw a dark room back to its original form, no Danny to be seen anywhere.

Batman grabbed one of the keys and slipped it into a belt pouch. Robin followed his lead and took a key for himself.

“Father, were you ever going to inform us that you befriended a vampire?”

Batman grunted and cracked the door open to peer out.

“He’s not a vampire,” Red Robin scoffed, grabbing a key for himself.

“I don’t know, creepy house, magic shit, you should’ve seen the gardener,” Nightwing swiped the last key with a flourish.

“He tasted your blood, Drake.”

“He what!?”

“That was after you called him cute,” Nightwing teased.

Red Robin froze with his mouth open, eyes slowly widening.

“I was hoping I just imagined that.”

“Seriously Tim, he’s probably like 300 years old.”

“Tt, I believe Brown would call this robbing the cradle.”

Nightwing and Red Robin turned to look at Robin in silent surprise.

“Shall we leave?” He ignored their incredulous looks and followed Batman out the door.

They scrambled to not be the last out the door, finding themselves in an entirely different part of the city than they entered from.

[novy2sirius]

Asteroids- Groom (5129) and Briede (19029):

What the technique shows: This is a predictive technique that I haven’t seen fail yet in life-long couples charts. Marriages that last have it working both ways. Marriages that failed seem to have it either working one way or neither

Asteroid Info: Groom represents the husband so if you’re interested in a specific man check Groom and Briede represents the wife so if you’re interested in a specific women check Briede

How it works: Check the asteroids sign and house and if your partner has the same sign in their rising, chart ruler, chart rulers house, or 1h planet then marriage is likely to occur

What system and type of astrology? I personally have found whole signs system to be the most accurate when using this method but you can try placidus too. When it comes to astrology types both western and sidereal seem to have accuracy

This may sound confusing, so here are some examples:

⟢ Justin and Hailey Bieber ⟣ - western

Justin has a Gemini Briede and Hailey has her Mercury in the 1st house

Hailey has a Scorpio Groom and Justin is a Scorpio rising

⟢ Beyonce and Jay Z ⟣ - western

Beyonce has a Virgo Groom and Jay Z is a Virgo rising

Jay Z has a Capricorn Briede and Beyonce has her Saturn in the 1st house

⟢ My sister and her husband ⟣ - western

My sister has an Aries Groom and her husband has his Mars in the 1st house

Her husband has a Scorpio Briede and her chart ruler is in the sign Scorpio

⟢ Victoria and David Beckham ⟣ - western & sidereal

In Tropical Victoria has a Leo Groom and David’s Sun is in the 1st house

In Sidereal David has a 1h Briede and Victoria has her Mars in the 1st house

[freyito]

hello hello!!! may i order an idia flavored curry rice plz?? blinks cutely) ty!!

✭ pairing(s): idia shroud x gn reader

★ in which: idia is WAY too confident that he can out miku you.

✩ curry rice black forest cake w/ idia shroud!

✦ entry for my 1k follower event, Freyito's Maid Cafe! check out the link to figure out how to send an order!!

✧ a/n: ykw anon. im so glad you changed your mind because this gave me SUCH a banger idea that i couldnt go to sleep cause i was writing it out in my head. teehee :)

🗒 cw: gn reader, ffxiv sneak, just embarrassed idia :3, not proofread

✎ wc: 2.7k

ᴘᴜʀᴇ ᴇᴠɪʟ | ꜰʀᴇʏɪᴛᴏ'ꜱ ᴍᴀɪᴅ ᴄᴀꜰᴇ !

It was late at night, and you had been on call with Idia. He was grinding out materials for some new transmog that had dropped in his game, and cursing the drop rates. You, on the other hand, were grinding out Project Diva Mega Mix for no particular reason. You had just made up your mind that you wanted to full combo some extra songs, and now you were hellbent on doing so. Plus, it provided some nice background music for Idia and his grind sesh.

By now, you had two songs finished and full cleared (albeit, with 97% accuracy), and you were working on your third, Sweet Devil. You already had four failed runs, your hands were starting to cramp a bit, and Idia’s smart remarks weren’t helping you. Not to mention, you always found the mvs distracting. Too much happening in the background while you were trying to focus on the notes.

You slump back in your chair with a huff as you watch the small word ‘safe’ pop up and interrupt your combo. You watch for just a moment as the symbols fly past on the screen, a barrage of ‘miss’es following shortly after. You finally exit the mv, balling your hands into a fist and then stretching out your fingers.

“I thought you were, like, a god at rhythm games,” Idia chides. You can hear the smile through his mic.

“Well sometimes it takes a couple tries,” You sigh, shaking your head. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure it does,” He chuckles. When you look at his stream, he’s finished up running maps and his character is now toiling away by the marketboard. “I bet I could do it.”

You raise your eyebrow, though he can’t see it. “Hm, what’s the stakes?”

“We need stakes?”

“You’re insulting my integrity as a rhythm game player. I want there to be a deal.”

A silence follows your voice, but you can hear him shift back in his chair. “Okay. What do you want to bet, then?”

Hm. You yourself don’t know exactly what you want if you win. Maybe you could get some gil off of him in game, but that didn’t feel like enough. You look around your room, before spotting something rather intriguing. It was a forgotten purchase, a pastel pink maid dress. It was rather cheap material, but still served its function. You were sure if you looked for them, you’d find the rest of the pieces…

“Loser wears a maid dress,” You declare triumphantly. “I got one in my closet.”

“... I, uh, don’t wanna ask why you have that,” He mumbles, “But I guess I accept. It’d be pretty nice to see you in a maid dress, heh…”

“Don’t act like you’ve already won. You haven’t even opened the game yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, just lemme put this up on the marketboard and I’ll get on the game…”

You lean back, content to wait and give your hands a bit of a break. You can’t help but smirk at not only making Idia eat his words, but seeing him in a maid dress would make you… quite happy, to say the least. The light pink would pair well with his hair and– you have to stop yourself there. You’d rather not distract yourself any further, nor allow yourself to get cocky. You can’t get ahead of yourself, or else you risk losing perhaps the most precious award you could ever have. 

“Okay. I’m on. Which song was it again?” Idia finally speaks up. When you look back at his stream, he’s ended it.

“Sweet Devil– Hey, you should stream your screen,” You point out, tabbing back into your game.

“I’m getting to itttt,” He drags the last letter, like it was too much work, as if he had not streamed his games every time you two called.

You watch as the ‘stream has ended’ switches to his screen, scrolling through the songs before landing on sweet devil. He changes difficulties to extreme, then waits for a moment, like he’s expecting you to say something. You decide to mess with him a little bit, staying silent a little longer.

“I’m waiting,” He groans, and you can almost hear his eyes roll. “I know you’re watching. I heard the little viewer noise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You chuckle, “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Idia doesn’t even grace you with a ‘go’, or anything of the sort, simply starting the song, following your words. You scramble to tab back into the game, quickly selecting the song. 

The song and mv start up, and soon after the notes come in. You do your best to focus, to try and block out the MV, the bright pink lights of Miku’s room and Miku herself made it hard to follow the notes, especially with how fast they were. Still, you find your rhythm relatively easily, considering you knew the song and charting by heart. Normally, you’d be super conscious about the progress bar beneath the screen, checking to make sure you were well above the ‘excellent’, marker. However, you were too determined to focus. And unfortunately, that would be too much of a distraction. You don't even focus on if your hits are 'good' or 'excellent'.

The hold notes scare you the most, considering you always end up slipping up on them, somehow. Either that, or you don’t hold them for long enough and panic when you can just press the other buttons on your keyboard. You tell yourself, over and over again, in your mind, that you can just use the other set of keys. You have to. You can’t risk allowing Idia to have any sort of edge on you.

Three minutes feels like five, or even ten. Idia has been far too quiet during this, not even muttering something under his breath. You feel grateful for a moment, if you heard anything on his side, you’d probably mess up. Maybe you could mess him up. Yes. No. Ugh, if you did, you’d probably mess yourself up, too. And if you had messed him up, he’d complain and call for a redo. You would rather never play this song again, to be honest.

Just as your fingers start to tingle– a result of adrenaline, for some reason–, the word ‘success’ comes up. Behind the notes, Miku turns her little devil tail into a spear and throws it as a planet. You do your best not to celebrate too early, still having to go through with the last couple seconds of the song. You were just happy to have nailed the challenge time, more than happy. 

After the last couple of notes, you’re able to lean back and relax. For a moment. When the ‘clear’ screen comes up, you feel your heart jump at the percentage. 101.53%. You look over at Idia’s stream and can’t help but laugh. 99.07%.

“No,” He utters weakly, with an agony in his voice you have never heard before. He doesn’t say anything else.

“Yes,” You feel maniacal, an odd elation spreading through your chest. You don’t even exit the game, hopping out of your chair. “You stay right there.”

You pull the dress from your closet, listening to Idia frantically call for Ortho from your headphones. The rest of what he says is unintelligible, given the distance between you and your headphones as you rummage through drawers to find the rest of the costume. You find the cuffs, stockings, and even a headband with cat ears. It’s a little bent, but you’d fix it on the way.

Hurriedly, you stuffed the costume into a bag, grabbing your phone and turning on the flashlight. Slinging the bag over your shoulder and rushing out of your house. You keep your flashlight pointed at the ground so you don’t trip, running as fast as you can to the Hall of Mirrors. Like it is a high-stakes situation, time is precious. If you can’t make it to Ignihyde’s dorms soon, then you will never see Idia in a maid dress, even if you won the bet.

The minute you reach the Hall of Mirrors, you practically throw yourself through Ignihyde’s mirrors, scrambling through the halls with harsh breaths. Your heavy footsteps echo through the halls as you make your way up the steps and to Idia’s room, clutching the strap of your bag. Ortho is there, in front of Idia’s door, opening it just a crack.

Seeing you, the boy lights up, smiling at you from underneath his mask. “Oh, hey, Idia. They’re here!”

“Nooo!” Idia squeals, and you can what him scrambling from his chair to close the door.

You shove your foot into the crack of the door just as Idia tries to open it. He uses more force than he means to, squeeze your foot slightly. You don’t emote, despite how much it hurts. Which scares Idia. But you don’t care. You won the bet. And he needs to pay up. Ortho stares blankly, trying to figure out what has Idia acting this way, before scolding his brother.

“That’s mean! You shouldn’t try to shut your partner out, especially like that!” 

Idia shrinks back a little. It’s clear that Ortho doesn’t know what has you on such a warpath, and you are quite happy with that. Finally, you smile a little, opening the door with your other hand. 

“Ortho…” Idia murmurs, turning his gaze away from you and his brother. “We’re gonna, uhm, game all night. Just us two. So, uh, you should get some sleep.”

He sounds utterly defeated, and Ortho remains none the wiser as to what you were about to subject poor Idia too.

“Huh? But you called me here?” Ortho tilts his head, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I didn’t mean it– er, It was a mistake,” 

“... Okay! I’ll leave you two be. Have fun!”

And with that, Ortho hovers away, happy to leave his brother in your hands. By then, Idia knows he’s lost. You take a step in, handing him the bag with the dress and accessories in it. You don’t even speak to him, feeling a bit too giddy about your win, and prize.

“Uhm… can you at least stay out there, while I get changed?” His voice is shy, understandably so. 

“If you lock yourself in there, I’ll get Ortho to break it down,” You place your hands on your hips, in an attempt to seem confident.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

He’s right, you were well aware that your threat was kind of empty. But there’s no way you were going to let him get away.

“Then I’ll get those Heartslabyul first years to kick the door down.”

He lets out a small ‘eep’ at this, frowning. “Okay, okay, I won’t lock the door. Fine. You win.”

He doesn’t allow you any time to reply, taking the back and closing the door all too quickly. You can hear him shuffling about and the clothes rustling, and you feel your stomach flip-flop with nerves. You fidget with your hands and turn your back to the door, pretending like you actually didn’t care all that much so that Idia could get dressed faster, like that would work. You cross your arms, tapping your fingers against your biceps while you wait.

After a while, you hear the door crack behind you, and you turn around way too excitedly. He barely peeks through, giving you a look akin to a pleading puppy. He didn’t open the door all the way, insistent that you had to slip in through the crack, in case any one else would look out and see him. He’d rather save himself the embarrassment.

Finally squeezing through the door, he shuts it quickly. You, on the other hand, are greeted with a sight. His entire face is red, the tips of his hair flickering a bright pink as he looks away in embarrassment. The dress is a little short for him, so he clutches to the hem of the skirt and pulls it down a little. The pink worked well with his hair and his skin, just like you thought. It’s cliche, one of the dresses that was copy pasted from all those maid animes and what not. But still, you think it fit well.

“This is so cheap,” Idia complains, tilting his head up. “Okay. I dressed up. Can you go now so I can get back in my pajamas?”

You realize he’s missing something. The cat ears.

“No. No, I’m not leaving until you put the cat ears on.” You state simply, looking around for where they are.

He grimaces, deflating even more. “Please no. I think I might die. Actually, I’m going to die. Right now.”

“I won the bet fair and square, it’s not my fault. Where are they, Idia.” You speak with such a stern voice, it almost scares him. He finally, hesitantly, points to his chair, his grimace deepening as he looks back at you. “Put. Them. On.”

He groans, turning around and grabbing the cat ears. He gives you one last look, begging you to just let him go. Maybe you’re being a little too sadistic, but c’mon, Idia in a maid dress. That’s it. You plan to make the most of it. Slowly, he lifts the headband over his head, then lowers it down. Now you have your own Idia cat maid in front of you. You can’t help but smile, absolutely jubilant to see this poor man wearing such a cute dress.

“Okay. Can you go now, please,” He pleads once more, bringing a hand up to his face.

“Can I at least take a picture?” You hold up your phone.

“N-no! Please, no. I’m already at my lowest point, don’t have to kick me while I’m down…”

“Okay, okay,” You decide to finally allow him some mercy, “I won’t. But… I don’t think this image is ever leaving my head any time soon.”

He sighs and shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. But he doesn’t reply. Well, that won’t do. You decide to come up with a quick excuse to stay.

“Well, I ran all the way here, in the dark, it’d suck if you sent me back,” You try to play it cool, tilting your head a little and looking up through your lashes at him. This earns you a deeper blush.

“Stop it,” He huffs, turning his head. Met with his set up, he realizes you two are technically still on call. And he finds his way out. “Your pc is on, you know.”

“Huh.”

“It’s on. You’re still in call.” He points to his monitor.

Your blind blanks for a minute, before you panic a little. You would like to stay and see if you can get him to stay in the maid dress for a little longer, but at the same time, you’d rather not blow out the power supply of your pc. That thing is too damn expensive. And you love it too much.

“Okay. Bye.” You huff briskly, turning on your heels and waiting for the door open before running back down to the mirror that connected the Ignihyde dorms to the Hall of Mirrors.

Idia yelps as the door slides open fully, stepping back and pressing himself against the wall so no one would see. Like anyone else was up at this time. He listens to you rush down the hallway, before letting out a breath. Once the door is shut all the way, he’s quick to wriggle out of the dress, throwing the cat ears, cuffs, and stockings (which ended up ripping a bit) to the corner of his room.

Almost breaking the zipper, he yanks it down on the back of his dress and throws it alongside the scattered recipes, before staring intently at it. Why couldn’t you have just waited for him to undress and take it back? He didn’t want these god forsaken items here. In his room. That reminded him of you. That’s like the cheesiest romantic thing couples do! And in this fashion, perhaps even cringey! He wants to burn it, so bad. Or throw it out. But what if someone somehow finds it in the trash? And then they link it back to him? That’d be the worst scenario. The absolute worst.

He continues to stare at it for a minute, before reaching for his pajamas that were hanging off the back of his chair. Fine. He’ll leave the stupid costume alone for now. Perhaps it’d come in handy one day. Give you a taste of your own medicine… or something.

© freyito, 2025 | maid cafe event | maid cafe masterlist | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | strawpage | star header by roseschoices , dividers by cafekitsune , headers by yours truly

DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[asha-mage]

Randland World Leaders - Do they know the price of a banana apple?

Morgase Trakand - No, but she could get it in the right neighborhood if asked. Understands the economic influences that affect prices and knows roughly where Andor's sit at any given time.

Elayne Trakand - Pre world travels? Not with a gun to her head. She wouldn't give a false guess though, just avoid the question rather then admit ignorance. Post world travels she knows the prices of most common food stuffs for Andor and all of it's immediate neighbors with scary accuracy.

Rand al'Thor - Yes. One of the first things Rand does after taking over Tear is familiarize himself with tax policies and food production and grain trade. He is a farm boy at heart and has Powerful Opinions on cost of living.

Perrin Abyara - Nope. He thinks he does, but in reality he names the price of apples he paid aka, pre adventure. He knows that prices in general have gone up but if you tried to sell him an apple he would get offended when you wouldn't take the same price he paid prior to half a dozen kingdoms going to war, and the endless summer choking out trade. He wouldn't say anything though and just assume you where trying to squeeze a few coins out of him because he's dressed like some 'idiot lord'.

Faile- Yes. She knows exactly the price of apples grown in the Two Rivers and knows that it's out competing the neighboring provinces apples by a good margin. Does this have something to do with her threatening local officials to ensure they don't try to hard to compete with Two Rivers food prices? Maybe, but it's nothing Perrin can prove she did. HE dosen't know the price of apples.

Siuan Sanche - Apples? No. Fish? Yes. Siuan could tell you the price of every fish in the market at Tar Valon and what will be cheaper next month based on yields out of the south. This is not for economic reasons, it's because she still eats fish for 3 meals out of 4.

Berelain - Nope. She has economic advisers who she pays to know that. Her skill and perk points all went into Foreign Policy and Espionage, not Economics.

Alliandre - The price of apples keeps Alliandre up at night staring at her bedroom ceiling, fearing for her life. It turns out having a religious tyrant running rampart around your kingdom burning down farms and causing skyrocketing inflation by assaulting trade routes and exacting inconsistent 'tithes' on merchants will make you VERY familiar with the economic conditions of the common man. Every time the price of apples goes up a silver mark, Alliandre makes her food taster check her meals an extra time.

Tuon - Yes. Always good to know the price of local cyanide containing fruits, just in case.

Elaida - "It's an apple Alviarin? How much can it cost? 10 gold marks?"

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger's Wicked Birthday - 1st -

The story's in his POV. As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Nsfw. Awkwardly translated smut.

They say that something predestined, something that cannot be changed or avoided, is called fate.

Being born male, female, or otherwise.

Where and when you were born, how long you'll live and when you'll die, all of these seem to be predetermined.

I've always been looking for a way to fight against all of that.

--

Roger: Hey, Jude. Cut back on those cigarettes. You don't know when those lungs of yours will fail.

Jude: Quit yer yappin'. Are ya my mom or somethin'?

Roger: Don't remember givin' birth to an arrogant, swearing bastard like you.

As I walk away after finishing up Jude's regular check up, my ears pick up the hustle and bustle of the dining room.

Roger: Huh? They're bein' awfully noisy.

As expected, when I entered the dining room, I found Harrison listening to a distraught Liam.

Roger: Hey, what's up? Did somethin' happen?

Liam: Kate isn't back yet so I want to go look for her now.

(The little lady?)

Roger: Calm down... You're not gonna find anything if you run out in the dark.

Harrison: Yeah, Roger's right. You were the last one to see Kate, weren't you Liam?

Liam nods.

Jude: You were supposed ta be watchin' 'er. Why'd ya let 'er go about as she pleases?

Liam: Tomorrow's Roger's birthday so we went out shopping to celebrate in advance. I thought about dressing up a bit and doing some stuff that'll surprise Roger.

Harrison: Liam, I now there's something you don't want to tell us, but now's not the time.

Liam: After we finished shopping, we parted ways near Leadenhall Market. Kate told me to go home first because she wanted to buy something in secret.

Harrison: Where'd you and Kate part?

Liam: At a bakery called "Harmony". Around there.

Harrison: If it's around there then...flowers, huh?

Liam: Flowers?

Harrison: Did she go by herself to get flowers for Roger?

Roger: Me?

Harrison: Yeah. There's a popular flower shop in alley where Liam and Kate parted ways. She probably knew about it.

Jude, who was quiet this whole time, muttered something troubling.

Jude: Tha's right, there's been some strange incidents lately. The naïve princess must've gotten mixed up in it. That woman (the queen) must 'ave some kind of info. Maybe.

Roger: I'll go get Victor...

--

There's been some kidnappings recently where Kate was now alone.

All those kidnapped were women, and those who were lucky enough to escape only had their hair cut, so it seems like they were kidnapped to sell their hair at a high price.

Based on the information from Victor, it was decided that Crown would search several hideouts of the criminals.

Harry and I ran through the back alleys of London in the dark.

Roger: ...? Hey, Harry. I can hear a man...and the faint voice of a woman through this door.

Harrison: May that's it. Let's go.

The man's voice gets clearer as we head down the path leading to the basement.

Men with guns and knives gathered in the dark.

(I see. So a bunch of thugs were kidnapping people)

Bearded man: After our watch is done, let's go for a drink- Huh, who're you?

In the dim light, Harrison and I exchanged glances. In times like this, a liar and traitor's quick thinking is useful.

Roger: Don't be so guarded. We're your buddies. We thought we'd take part too.

Bearded man: Huh? What're you on about? We'll lose our share with more people.

Harrison: Don't be like that. The police have been sniffing around lately.

Bearded man: The police...?

Harrison: We got contacts in the police. I got info on how to escape them.

Man with a gun: Hey... Wouldn't it be better if we brought them in?

Roger: Oh, we got a right to choose though. Let's hear some details about what you guys are doin'.

Bearded man: It's simple. You kidnap a woman to sell her hair and if she gets out of line, you kill her. That's it.

Man with a gun: In this day and age, a corpse has some value so it's like killing two birds with one stone.

(Yep, these are definitely the guys. Can't mess this-)

(0)

Harrison and I fire at the same time.

Criminal: Guh...

Roger: What's up? You're bein' unusually aggressive Harry.

Harrison: Yeah, wel... Anyway, I'll take care of the rest. You go ahead.

Roger: Yeah, I'm on it. Can't help but hear Kate's voice in my ear. Don't die Harry. Bringing you back will be a pain.

Harrison: Gotcha...

I head into the darkness, the sound of gunfire behind me.

(Multiple female voices...One of them...sounds like Kate)

I thought Kate would be sobbing in fear-

Kate's voice: -ight... It'll be alright. Help will come. It'll be alright...

My ears picked up Kate's voice, who was assuring the other women with her.

Roger: Geez... You're even worryin' over others in a time like this.

I run and run toward the voice, open the door in the dark, and head up the stairs.

Muscular man: Hey, who're you- Gah?!

I shoot and kill the criminals that come at me as I keep going.

(Found her...)

Among the women bound in rope is Kate.

Kate: Roger...

(Why're you trying to smile at a time like this?)

(You're not fooling anyone...)

As I go up to her and cut the rope with a knife, I notice flowers that fell at Kate's feet.

Roger: ...

Seeing them, I impulsively-

I held Kate tight in my arms.

Roger: Are you hurt?

Kate: Nothing serious. Just some scratches...here and there.

It's so like her to not count scratches as injuries.

Roger: I see...

Kate: I was sure...

Roger: Hm?

Kate: I was sure that Crown...that you would come and save me.

Kate knew about my curse as the "treacherous huntsman".

Still, she believed in me and fought against fear and anxiety.

(Damn. You're so cute and brave)

Roger: You're my birthday present, got it? Not letting anyone take you away from me.

Kate: Got it...

Kate's body starts trembling as if finally letting go of all the pent up fear.

I pat her back as if soothing a baby.

Roger: Scary wasn't it...

Kate: Yeah...

Roger: You did your best. You were great.

Kate: ... Roger... I-I...

Kate bawled so loudly that I couldn't help but smile.

--

After taking care of everything, I brought Kate back to the castle and tended to her wounds.

Kate: O-ow. It hurts...

Roger: It's supposed to hurt. Otherwise this wouldn't be moxibustion.

Kate: I'll accept it...

Maybe because she was still feeling guilty, Kate endures the pain without a fuss.

As I watch her in amusement, a thought appears in the back of my mind.

It's said that those cursed will meet an equally tragic end.

That's a solid conclusion I came to after years of researching curses.

(That's what's supposed to happen to us)

(I wonder what Kate's fate's like)

Kate's a curious woman who's aware of the fact that the world isn't pretty, yet still retains some purity in her heart and eyes.

Even those in Crown with strong personalities seem to be moved by her.

(A miserable fate doesn't suit Kate)

A long life's better than a short one, better to be surrounded by people than alone, and a warm place's better than a cold one.

(The kind of fate that suits someone who's able to smile so peacefully)

It was out of character for me to think of that for Kate who trusts others so easily.

Roger: Alright, done.

Kate: Thank you so much. Sorry for bothering you so late. Then...

Roger: Hey now, who said you could go?

Kate: Huh?

Roger: The treatment's finished, but the punishment isn't, little lady.

I sit down next to Kate on the bed, who makes a sound in her throat.

Kate: Punishment...

Roger: Thinking you'll get an answer right away just by asking's a bad habit of yours. Ask yourself why you're getting punished.

I whisper in her ear as I swipe my thumb across her lips.

Roger: I won't stop until you get it right.

Kate: Um, uh...

Kate jolts when I nibble on her ear before capturing her lips.

Kate: Nn...Roger...

(Soft as ever...)

Roger: Mm...Come one, answer me.

Kate: Because I got hurt...?

Roger: Wrong.

Even after releasing her wrists after kissing her repeatedly, Kate lets me do as I please.

Kate: Nnn... Hm? Ah...

(Hmm, not runninn'? Ahh...you obediently did as you were told)

The way she accepts my kisses while thinking fills me with sadistic desires and I hook my fingertips on the neckline of her dress.

Roger: That's it, think about it.

Kate: You don't need to tell...Ah...

Her breasts spill out as I pull down her dress and my lips are on her.

Roger: Hm? Givin' up?

While licking a nipple, I tease the other with my fingers.

Kate: ! I'm not...

(Ah~ That's a good look. You look so frustrated...like you're about to cry)

Kate: Ah...Is it...because I wandered off on my own?

Roger: Nope.

Kate: Huh...Ah....

I roll the peak in my mouth and Kate lets out a faint gasp.

(I'm disgusted at the thought that other men did that to her...)

I continue to suck and nipple as I slip my fingers in the wetness between Kate's legs.

It was already so wet and like with her nipple, I flicked her bud with a finger.

Kate: Ah...Nngh...Roger...

The moment I saw tears welling up, the irritation I felt within me finally subsided.

Kate: I...give up...

I grab Kate's chin and look at her as she muttered in frustration with tears in her eyes.

Roger: Hey, Kate.

Kate: Yes...?

Roger: I can't stand it when others make you cry. I'm the only one allowed to do that...Right?

Kate: Ye- Huh?

(What......................)

Roger: What's up with that response.

Kate: I just didn't expect it... I'm...not Roger's or anyone else's!

Roger: Then why're you squeezing my fingers so tightly?

Kate: That's because...Ah...I can't...

Roger: I'm not gonna last so let me enjoy your tears for a little longer.

Kate: Ah...wait...Roger

After that, I made Kate cry out a lot before having her finish me with her hand.

Satisfied, I went out for a drink with Jude.

Using my birthday as an excuse, I made him buy me a drink.

--

(I drank too much last night...)

I was lying on a sofa in the lounge with the aftertaste of alcohol still lingering when I felt a shadow over my face.

Kate: Roger...? Are you dead?

Roger: I am. So what do you want with a dead man? I'm not taking any complaints about last night.

Kate: It's not that. I have something for you.

(...?)

When I sat up, Kate shyly held out a bouquet.

Kate: Happy birthday Roger. Also... Thanks for being born.

Roger: O_O ...

(Wha...)

(Thanks for being born... That's the first time I've heard it since my curse)

(Kate...Only you of all people would say that without any hesitation)

Kate: Roger? Um...I went shopping with someone this time?

Roger: Haha, I know. Thanks...

Kate smiles happily like a puppy.

(Her crying face is the best, but her smile- it suits her)

Her smile's so cute that I can't but want to tease her again.

Roger: Hey, Kate. I must've fallen for you if I'm always thinking about you right?

Kate: Excuse me........ I-I don't know!

Roger: Pfft, hahaha. How cold.

After that, while I was walking with the bouquet Kate gave me, Victor suddenly told me what those flowers meant.

Anemones meant "fleeting love".

Kate probably didn't know what the flowers she gave me meant, but it's ironic.

My fate's a future ruined by guilt.

The worst fate lies before me, but I'm not gonna let it get me down now.

Trampling on fate, I-

Roger: Now, let's fight against it again today.

[writingoddess1125]

Poppy Kisses

Buggy x GNReader

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️: Attempted murder, Manipulation, implied sexual tension, implied future Dubcon

Art by Vamos_MK on Twitter. Check them out!

Please support me Ko-Fi

In and out- That was the job. You'd been asked to murder a certain pirate by a client of yours, He was known as a buffoon and a fool- quite literally it seemed. Buggy the Clown, Captian of The Buggy Pirates. Always failing at his task but getting closer to his goals non the less, apparently he had ruffled some feathers non the less.

Which was why you were hired, asked to join his crew and kill him. Being a skilled shooter made it easy for you to join his crew, however killing him was a different story-

In truth was harder then it seemed to nail this guy- You couldn't stab him for obvious reasons, he was too cautious to go near water and you couldn't risk shooting him since it was loud and you'd risk death by his surprisingly loyal crew.

So you had to get close.. which was just as hard as finding a way to Kill Buggy. He didn't trust easy- He was quite plainly pathetic as a pirate but clever in ways you'd never imagined.

It was awful to say but you hard started to like.. hell even love the goofy bastard? He was fun in a scary way and with him trusting you, you got to see this new side to him.

He watched everyone, including you with hawk like accuracy. Anything even slightly off he could catch and any attitude changes he would immediately notice and question- Who knew this clown would be your biggest challenge.

It took nearly a month before he got comforble around you, playing the act of a wannabe fan of his and an additional two months before he had seemingly started to like you- Clearly his ego finally winning out at your fawning of him.

Soon he was letting you sit in his lap, him telling you stories of his adventures and his past as a pkrate. How he would take your input on his shows and what was needed from your perspective, letting his hand drift to your waist as he would whisper jokes in your ear and drawing true laughs from you.

Sure it started out as a mission but- soon it turned into real enjoyment from your end. So a mission that should have taken 3-4 months tops was pushing on 6... but who could blame you! It was just too damn fun there with Buggy!

Sitting in your room you stared down at the tin canister in your hands, it was a potent poison jell. You rubbed it on anything and it'd dry clear which would work since you noticed Buggy used the same glass cup, claiming it was good luck or something... it was a perfect device to poison Buggy but now- you didn't know if you could.. he had been so kind to you, Even getting you a private room which most crewmates didn't have. Even if it was a bit small and as Buggy had said formally used as a makeup room which explained the large mirrors on the wall. You still knew he had given you space cause he cared..

"Fuck.."

You sighed as the small snail rang in your pocket, pulling it out you cringed knowing who it was and you sadly answered. Wincing at the angered voice of your client rushed into your ears yelling at you for taking so long-

"What am I paying you for?" Your client hissed. "I-I know we had some hic-" You got cut off by the raised voice.

"Hiccup!? He's a fucking idiot! Tonight is the last night or else I'm putting a hit on you" they yelled before disconnecting the call.

"tonight..." You mumbled. Rubbing your face as you stashed the snail away, stress bubbling in your chest as you sat there.

This was your job...

Slipping the casaster in your pocket you get up to Visit Buggy's room, Something you often did anyway so you didn't bother knocking.

"Hey Bugs?" You call out, seeing the Captian seated at his vanity finishing his makeup.

"Hell Doll! What brings you in?" He says cheerfully, you shrug and plop down on a chair.

"I wanted to stop by and say Hi before we head to dinner" You lie, but the smile it brought to Buggys lips made your heart flutter. Soon you two began to mindlessly chatter as Buggy finished his makeup, you handing him his hat once finished.

"Shit. I forgot my bandana in the map room. I'm going to grab it real quick, I'll be back" He said with a bright smile before leaving. Your eyes traveling to the glass cup- you knew this was your only chance..

You didn't want to do this, You couldnt do this... Paid killer or not when do you find someone like him? Just some fun clown guy who's weird humor actually makes you laugh!?

Walking to the vanity you sat down, still warm from him and slipped on some gloves. Picking up the glass cup and groaning in frustration at the situation.

Forcing your eyes closed you look at yourself in the mirror, feeling like he could see you or you were seeing yourself for the first time.

Sighing you feel a tears start to slip down your cheeks as you place the coated cup down and took off your gloves. Hiding it away as you looked at yourself again, regret on your face-

"...it's your job- love aside" You reasoned before getting the canister and quickly coating a thin layer of the gel inside. Watching how it dried almost instantly and looking undetectable like it had been only polished.

"Please forgive me... I really do care for you Buggy..." You whisper a prayer before backing away at your placed trap, trying to wipe the tears from your eyes and maks if look like you hadnt been crying.

After a few moments Buggy returned to the room with a cheerful smile on his face.

You couldn't do this, as you watch him pour the wine and get ready to bring it to his lips you got up ready to reach for it when he paused- Looking up at your raised form as you prepared to take the cup from him.

"Ready for dinner?" He chimed, you nodding as you watch him grab the glass from its usual spot. Nodding silently as you followed him to the mess hall, You heart pounding as you sat in your usual seat. Food laid out buffet style over the large table as Buggy took center seat like a king- Your head spinning as you stared at the glass. Watching him make his plate before reaching for the pitcher of wine..

"Change of heart?" He said, making you freeze in your raised spot.

He clicked his tongue as he lowered the glass from his lips, His eyes staring right at you with a knowing smirk on his lips. A chill going down your spine- he had never given you a look like that before.. it was like looking at the waters before a beast rose and took your life. He wiped his lips with a napkin just incase any traces of poison had hit his lips.

"I really expected better from you (Y/N)- even after all this time you would have let the berry win huh? But your feelings really did win in the end" He mused and you felt ice flood your vains.. he knew.. he fucking knew!

Looking around you see the crew all staring at you, a knowing look on their faces as they stared at you and their captian.

"I thought your words of 'I really care for you' and 'Love aside' was just part of the act but look at that!" He rose to his feet as you sat back down slowly, fear now lacing your heart as the realization slammed into your chest.

"One way Mirror, Works wonders both in the bedroom and in shows" He chimed. He was watching you- The whole damn time! He was watching you, from the calls to your client to your hesitation to complete the job. He knew.

Fear slammed hard into you and it felt like you were suffocating as he went to circle you like prey, his footsteps seeming so loud in the mess hall now.

Your feet moved faster then your brain- you ran out of the mess hall as the sound of laughter from the crew followed you. You had to get out of here you had to before he killed you!

"Now then, (Y/N) tell me- when do assassins cry for their targets?"

In a flash you jumped back from your seat like it was on fire and ran.

A yelp escaping your throat as you felt your collar being yanked back and lifted into the air. You struggled like a kitten being pulled up by the scruff from its mother and glanced up to see Buggy's floating hand holding you. Reaching next to you ready to stab his hand another gloved hand appeared right infront of your eyes and squeezed a red ball, coughing as the fight started to leave your body and soon you fell unconscious.

When the darkness faded you felt dizzy- like the world was spinning? Groaning softly at the feeling, before the realization that fabric had been placed in your mouth. This seemed to immediately sober you up as you looked around frantically- you were back in Buggy's bed, wrists tied to the bedpost and gagged, legs tied down with blue sill scarves and all your equipment laid out on the floor next to the bed. Buggy standing over it all examining it, he looked up hearing you move.

"Ah you're awake. Good I was beginning to worry that I made that Muggy Ball too strong"

You shook as you sat on the bed you once would have loved to be in, Watching Buggy as he Lossened his hair from the bandana. His blue locks falling down and framing his face as he stepped closer to the bed.

He said calmly as he rose up, watching you struggle and try to yell through the gag. He chuckled at this and patted your leg playfully.

"I wouldn't struggle. I don't think you can handle being knocked out again"

He said in amusement, removing his shirt and vest with ease revealing his naked chest- Due to years of training and his devil fruit abilties leaving him lean and flawless of marks. Just like how you had imagined.

"Got to say, I'm really impresses. With all the equipment in that little kill kit of yours I'm sure you could have done the job easily- But a painless poison that would let me sleep and die peacefully?.. it's almost too kind... whats it called? Poppy Kisses right?"

Warmth flooded your face and body as you watch him crawl closer to you- Seating himself right on your waist as he smiled down at you brightly, tapping a finger to your chest with a gleam in his eyes. He looked beautiful, terrifying but beautiful.

"Must have been hard, I saw your face.. you looked so hurt using that posion"

"So complicated.. So much trouble you are- So expensive too. Do you know how much I had to pay to your guild in order to make them say you died trying to murder me?"

He smirked as he began undo the buttons of your shirt. Your eyes widening in shock as he spoke and began to undress you.

"You're so lucky I like you~"

He purred, before placing a slow kiss on your cheeks. You felt the red grease paint smear and stain against it, accidently letting a moan slip the gag as his fingers pulled your hair, which he clearly reveled in. Leaving your wanting his lips as he traveled to your jaw, ear and further down.

His fingers working deeper into your hair as he removed the shirt from your body fully- the cold making you shiver at his warmed touch as red kisses blot your neck.

"Now my daring little assassin, I do believe some compensation is in order for all those expenses. Don't you?~"

[theoneofwhomisblue]

oh cool a new follower! i think, then i check your block to see what kinda stuff you post

its not the cannibalism, you did get the taste of blood right its much more subtle than most people think, its the 2000 billion miles of Boil i'd have to wade myself through to see anything else

based on the Boil and pinned post keep it up

Hell yeah

I take pride in what I do

From the accuracy of certain statements that others would fail at

To commitment to the bit

Thank you