#YOU GUYS ARE UNDER INFORMATION SPELLS…!!!

[holydongbird]

“i cant navigate tumblr so i just stick around tiktok and trap myself in a hot oven of bad takes and mean people :(“ “i cant navigate ao3 so i’ll just use chatgpt to read what i want :P” you fucks CAN’T NAVIGATE ANYTHING THESE DAYS

[medicinemane]

Ah... I've figured it out!

My brain's been treating Caucasus and Carpathian as the same word and that's why it's been so confusing why this mountain range seems to jump around by a pretty wide margin

Dyslexia did the same thing with Austria and Australia where just like here I knew they were different, but just didn't quite process it, which ended up with me thinking things like "Wow, I wonder why Falco's German is so spot on, like that's pretty impressive for an Australian"

Like my dyslexia just says "These two words are similar size and shape... I think they're probably more or less the same word, I'll file them away in the same spot, especially cause they're the same type of thing"

But I finally caught it seeing Carpathians mentioned being in Ukraine, and me being like "I really did think they were more over towards Georgia... maybe they go under the black se... wait a minute, I finally figured out why I'm confused"

Also see the Balkans and the Baltic where I 100% know the difference and know which one I'm talking about but very much may say the wrong one (and my dad's been like "oh you see, you just need to remember that..." and it's like dude it's dyslexia... also with GK Chesterton I'll often say "J" and my dad'll say similar stuff and it's like dude... there's no mnemonic here, J and G just sound and look similar enough my brain sometimes swaps them in behind my back)

Anyway, finally caught it in the act, finally understand why it seemed like these mountains jumped across a large body of water and no one ever commented on it... it's cause it was my dyslexia filing them away as both mountain ranges starting with C so... basically the same thing... yeah... yeah that's the same thing

[em1i2a3]

Got You (Where I Want You)

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader!

Summary: You walk in on Bob staring at himself in the mirror.

Warnings: Fluff, with some intimacy thrown in there for good measure, because why the hell not, right? The sweetness is cavity inducing lol

Author’s Note: Had this idea yesterday and had to put pen to paper y’all, I don’t know what the hell got into me that made me push aside my other stuff for this idea, but I liked it too much to not go absolutely bonkers on my keyboard lol…Anyways, enjoy <3

Word Count: 4,785

Subject: FINAL HR WARNING - CONDUCT REVIEW (Walker/Starr Conflict)

From: HR Officer Marshall Greene

“Agents Walker and Starr are now under internal review for insubordination, hostile communication, and repeated disregard of team mediation protocols. One more infraction and we’ll initiate temporary removal from field rotation. Val has been informed. There will be no further email warnings.”

Walker (Reply All):

“Good to know HR thinks performance under pressure is ‘hostile communication.’ No wonder no one trusts leadership anymore.”

Ava (Reply All):

“Glad we agree that nobody trusts you.”

Yelena (Reply To: Ava and Walker):

“I swear if you get us all sent to HR group therapy again we are going to leave you both at the next extraction site.”

You choked on your own laugh, face half-buried in your pillow as your tablet buzzed again. Notification after notification trickled in like popcorn kernels catching heat–erratic, chaotic, and loud as hell. The entire thread was spiralling quickly, and all you could do was watch the digital tornado unfold before your very eyes. You sat up quickly, nearly dropping the tablet in your lap as you scrolled through the influx of new messages. One leg was tucked under you, while the other bounced with that familiar blend of amusement and secondhand dread.

Ava’s spelling had deteriorated into pure adrenaline–half her words missing vowels, full of heat and fury and thinly veiled threats. Walker had officially gone full defensive, slinging phrases like “operational leadership failure” and “compromised team integrity” like he was writing a dissertation for Val.

You snorted as Yelena replied again but to everyone this time with a simple:

“You guys are literally down the hall from each other, there’s no need to continue to document the arguing, just kill each other now.”

It was definitely a full-blown HR meltdown, and it was definitely going to warrant group therapy again, but the thread was just too good to keep to yourself.

Your thumb hovered over the screen for one more second, then you grinned, tossing the tablet to the side of the bed, because you knew exactly who would enjoy this as much as you.

Bob.

He was never in these threads–more because he didn’t even think to check them anyways. He was never mentioned, never cc’d. He just floated above the chaos like a gentle cloud of soft-voiced concern. He was never involved enough to be a direct problem, but he was always tuned in enough to notice when issues were brewing. He never participated in the drama, but he loved hearing about it. Only from you, though. Only when you read it out loud with your overly expressive hand gestures and dramatic reenactments–like you were performing Shakespeare in the park…But only for him.

It was a tradition. A rhythm that only belonged to you and Bob alone, because every time a thread decided to spiral into a tailspin of arguing, you sought him out immediately.

Sometimes it was in the kitchen over cereal. Sometimes it was on the roof, sitting hip to hip with your legs dangling in the wind. Sometimes it was huddled on opposite ends of the couch with your legs draped over his lap…And sometimes–like right now–it meant running to his room like you were delivering urgent news straight from the battlefield.

You glanced down at yourself–sports bra, and underwear–and let out a low huff. Bob had seen you like this before, technically. That’s what came with the territory of shared safehouses, mission recovery stations, and walking around the compound late at night when you thought nobody else was awake. Those were different situations though.

You padded across the room and yanked open your dresser drawer, rifling through your exercise shirts until you settled on a worn black t-shirt–oversized and thinning with age. You tugged it over your head in one swift movement, letting the hem fall just past your hips, then you grabbed a pair of navy basketball shorts off the back of your desk chair and shimmied into them with a quick hop-step, tightening the strings as much as possible so they wouldn’t fall as you rushed down the hall.

You scooped the tablet back up in your arms, the screen still glowing with the madness you’d left behind.

HR Officer Marshall Greene (Reply All):

“This is a formal thread, please refrain from using inappropriate language and making unfounded comments on others performances.”

The excitement only grew, as you slapped the tablet against your thigh, and bolted into the hallway.

The compound was quiet except for the distant clack of someone’s boots echoing down from the other wing–probably Ava pacing while she types another scorched-earth reply to the recent email. Regardless, you padded forward, barefoot but quick. The hum of the overhead lights casted your shadow along the wall as you rounded the corner toward the kitchen for a quick pit stop.

The fridge gave a quiet suction-pop as you pulled it open and reached for one of the bottled iced teas Bob always hoarded–hibiscus and lemon honey, the kind he insisted was the best. You grabbed one–already cool against your palm even though you had restocked them an hour ago–and tucked it into the crook of your arm as you shut the fridge with your hip.

”What’re you? A professional basketball player?” A voice from behind you asked.

You didn’t need to turn to know it was Bucky–leaning against the wall just outside the kitchen like he’d been planted there to deliver commentary on your outfit. His arms were crossed, dog tags peeking beneath the neckline of his exercise shirt. The glint in his eyes showed unmistakable amusement as he raised a brow at what you were wearing. You didn’t slow your pace though, you just tossed him a look over your shoulder.

”Careful Barnes, comments like that are how group therapy gets scheduled.” That earned a bark of laughter from him–rough and low.

”I’ll tell HR you threatened me with that iced tea bottle,” He called out as you walked off. You raised it above your head in mock-warning without looking over at him.

”Weaponized refreshments fall under Walker and Ava’s jurisdiction. Not mine.” You heard his chuckle echo faintly behind you, but your attention was already zeroed in on the familiar stretch of hallway that led to Bob’s room.

It was quiet here. Soft, almost. The air always felt a little warmer around his end of the corridor–in heat and in emotion in general, there was less tension, less noise, it was very…Bob. use him, his stacks of books, and the faint sound of whatever playlist he decided to put on.

You didn’t knock, you never knocked.

Your fingers wrapped around the handle and turned it without ceremony, pushing the door open like it was your own room, like it was a shared space you were both too sentimental to label.

“Bob! You are not gonna believe this thread..” You said as you were stepping into the room, clicking the door shut softly behind you before turning around.

And that’s when you saw him…And he nearly jumped out of his skin.

”D-Don’t you knock?!” He stammered, jolting like you’d fired a dart into his shoulder. His hands scrambled for the shirt slung half-off his desk chair, eyes wide, and cheeks flushing crimson, “I-I could’ve been–!”

”Naked?” You offered helpfully, lifting a brow as you stepped more into the room, “I think I’ve survived worse than accidentally walking in on someone mid-change.” Your voice had trailed off a little by the time you got to the middle of the room, because it hit you then–just how good he actually looked.

He wasn’t even trying, and that was probably the worst part–because you didn’t want to see him when he was…

The golden hour light poured through the west-facing window like warm syrup, catching the faint dampness along his skin and the light brown locks that his head sported. The light turned the droplets of water that still trailed down his back into halos of shimmer. His chest was broad and high with clean muscle, sharp and thick, and a bit swollen. There were red marks stretched faintly across his collarbones and the tops of his biceps, fresh from a too-hot shower–evidence of his notoriously sensitive skin. A small pink scar marked the space just under one of his ribs, thinned out from more than a decade of bearing it.

You had always known he was strong–he had to be because of the serum–but this was not what you were expecting.

Bob was built like a cathedral. Sturdy like he’d been carved from something permanent, and yet somehow he still stood like he was embarrassed of that.

”Bob.” You started, but he was already trying to pull his shirt over his head and failing–his arms were moving like they had forgotten how sleeves worked. Then after a second of struggling, he gave up with a frustrated sigh and just pressed the cotton against his bare upper torso like a towel.

“I-It’s really nothing…” He insisted, voice strained and high with shyness, “I-I was just…Looking at something.” Your brows raised as you padded even further into the room, placing the iced tea gently on the nearest stack of books.

“Got a rash or something? I know that Sentry suit probably isn’t a pleasant experience. It’s basically painted on…Probably got chafing in all the wrong places.”

“W-What? No! I–I don’t have a rash,” He sputtered, a nervous laugh catching on the tail end of his words. You could see his ears turning red, then watched as the flush crept down his neck and beneath the top he was holding against him. You grinned, leaning against the footboard of his bed, crossing your arms over your chest.

”So what were you looking at then?”

“I-It’s nothing…I swear…” His gaze couldn’t even meet yours, it just darted everywhere but your face: the floor, the ceiling, the bottle of iced tea, his desk lamp. His throat worked as he swallowed, and he shook his head, “It was n-nothing.” You sighed and, without another word, turned and sat on the edge of his mattress, tablet still in hand as you looked around the room–deliberately taking your time, giving him space to breathe. To maybe cool down a little before you asked him the same question again.

His room was neat, but not in a sterile fashion. He had bookshelves stacked high with paperbacks and limited edition copies of stories–science fiction, poetry, philosophy, he even had a few battered field manuals, but they looked like they hadn’t even been opened. A few of the books had some sticky notes jutting out in soft yellows, greens and blues, all in varying shades. There was a well-kept ficus in the corner by the window, catching sunlight in its leaves. One of his walls held a corkboard filled with photographs of places he had been with the team, with little notes he had kept from you–handwriting scrawled on torn napkins or on the backs of receipts. His Sentry suit hung off a hook like a molded second skin, and a flannel blanket was folded with precision at the foot of the bed.

“W-What are you doing?” Bob’s voice cracked with a soft, almost wounded hesitation. You didn’t look up from the bed right away, instead dragging your thumb along the edge of the tablet as you let the silence sit. Then you finally lifted your gaze, brow raised with soft mischief.

“Waiting for you to move,” You said simply. “So I can see what you could’ve possibly been looking at so intently before I barged in.” He shifted on his feet, his toes curling against the floorboards like he was trying to plant himself there and disappear.

”Y-Y/N, I wasn’t looking at anything…” You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes dropping from his for just a second–slowly taking his body in again from the reflection of the mirror behind him, the long, broad line of his back, the way the light caught in every indentation of muscle like it was sculpted for this hour of the day and no other. Then you looked back at him.

”So why’re you hiding from me then?” You asked softly, “You’ve seen me topless before…Thought you might’ve been comfortable returning the favour.” You joked. His eyes flickered to yours, then away again, lashes fluttering like a startled heartbeat. His grip tightened on the cotton he still held over his chest, the fabric slightly damp now from where it met his skin. You set the tablet down with a quiet tap on his nightstand, fingers curling loosely at your sides as you pushed off the bed and stepped toward him. The floor creaked softly beneath your bare feet. His breath hitched–just barely audible–but you caught it. His whole body tensed, like prey too stunned to run, and yet… He didn’t back away.

“Let’s look together, hmm?” You said, voice soft, it wasn’t a command…It was more of an invitation, “Turn and look in the mirror.” Bob’s eyes darted down to yours, nervous and questioning, the light in them flickering gold just for the briefest moment.

“W-What…?”

”Just…Trust me,” You whispered, inching close enough for your hand to find the edge of the shirt he was still holding to his front. You pinched the soft cotton between your fingers, “Turn and look in the mirror…And move this.” He stared at you, searching your face as if trying to find the trap. But there wasn’t one–not with you. So, with hesitantancy, he turned back toward the full-length mirror beside his bookshelf. His broad shoulders squared, his spine straightening instinctively like he expected to be judged, and slowly, he shifted the cotton away from his chest. He didn’t let it drop–he held it against his side like a safety net–but it no longer blocked his reflection.

You stepped behind him carefully, and rose up on your toes, putting your chin on his heated shoulder, eyes flickering over both his reflection and the way his skin flushed beneath you. The heat coming off his body was tangible, like the golden hour sun had been sucked up by his skin and refused to leave. His damp hair curled at the end where it had dried, and the slope of his shoulder tensed beneath your chin.

Up close like this, with nothing but the mirror before you both, it was impossible not to take him in fully–not just the parts you’d glimpsed, not just what the suit hinted at beneath all that gold-threaded armor and pressure. But this. Him.

The soft curve of his clavicle, just beginning to dry, still slightly pink from the heat of his shower. The small cluster of faded stretch marks that swept just beneath his chest, curling slightly toward the soft ridges of his ribs. They looked like pale lightning, half-silver in the light–evidence of how fast he’d grown into himself, into this body he never asked for. Another quiet mutation to accommodate the weight of what lived inside him. There were more across his lower stomach, ghosting down either side of his abdomen where the muscle swelled thicker. They branched just beside his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his joggers, pale and delicate, like silk run beneath sharp fingers. You wanted to trace them. God, you wanted to press your mouth to every single one.

His skin was smooth in some places, textured in others, but all of it was flushed with heat. And that light trail of hair that you’d never seen before–white blonde, so soft it nearly vanished unless you were this close–drew a path down the center of him that had you unconsciously tightening your arms just slightly where they curled behind his back.

“You definitely don’t have any rashes,” You said softly, voice light with teasing but thick with something warmer. “You’re just a handsome guy…That’s built like a house.” You gave a small shrug against him, trying to diffuse the sincerity with humor, but it still rang true. Bob’s shoulders stiffened immediately, and his reflection turned red so quickly you thought it might spread across the mirror itself.

“S-Stop it,” He muttered, ducking his head just slightly, like that might shield him from your words.

“Why?” You murmured, brows lifting gently. “It’s not like I’m lying to you.” He didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched for a second too long, and then his voice came–rougher, smaller.

“I-I don’t see it… I just see this…This person who’s not themselves anymore.” His jaw clenched a little, eyes glued to his reflection like it betrayed him. “Not like I u-used to be. Everything’s just…D-Different.” Your frown came slowly, spreading across your face with a heaviness that tugged the corners of your mouth down and softened your eyes into something deeply pained. You finally connected the dots.

He hadn’t been admiring himself in the mirror. He wasn’t checking for a rash or even trying to catch a glimpse of some half-healed wound. He was judging himself–tearing himself apart with every second he stared. Comparing himself to the man he used to be. The one he probably thought he lost the day he became more myth than man. Your heart twisted with it. That quiet kind of ache that came from loving someone too much to let them stay hurt.

“…Can I touch you?” you asked gently, voice barely above a whisper.

Bob’s eyes met yours in the mirror, startled like you’d touched a raw nerve instead of just offering kindness. His lips parted slightly, breath catching in his throat.

“O-Okay,” He said, like it was foreign–like no one had ever asked that before. You moved even closer to him, your chest now pressing against his back. You lifted your hand and just…Touched him.

Your fingertips met the warm skin of his stomach, just above the waistband of his joggers, feather-light. He inhaled sharply. Not in fear–just surprise. His stomach tensed for a second, then loosened, like his body didn’t quite know how to receive affection that came without demand. You smoothed your hand upward, tracing the soft rise and fall of his abdomen, the slope of strength beneath the surface. His skin was warm and velvety under your touch—damp in places from the shower, and soft in others from where his skin had healed from stress and strain and godhood.

“You’re so…” You breathed, thumb sweeping just beneath his ribs, “Unbelievably beautiful, Bob.” He blinked like he hadn’t heard you right. Like that word had never belonged to him.

“I mean it,” You said softly, your hand traveling up his chest now, resting briefly over his heart–feeling the beat pounding steady and strong beneath your palm. “You have no idea what you look like, do you?”

His breath shuddered. “N-Not like this…”

“Then let me tell you.”

Your voice dropped, low and tender, like a vow.

“This body,” You whispered, your fingers tracing the faint stretch marks just below his pecs, “This is a testament. To everything you’ve carried. To how hard you fought to stay here. How strong you’ve had to be. You didn’t just survive…You built this. And you built it with love. With the way you protect people. With how gently you hold things, even when you could crush them.” You leaned in, lips brushing the curve of his bare shoulder, kissing him once. Then again, higher, where the tension lived tight beneath his neck.

He shivered.

Not out of discomfort–but because he knew you meant it. Because your mouth on his skin felt more like an affirmation than anything anyone had ever said to him. His skin jumped beneath each press of your lips. Your other hand slipped around his waist, palm resting over his stomach again–feeling the subtle flex as he tried and failed to keep still.

“You’re real, Bob,” You murmured between kisses. “You’re good. You’re so good. And every inch of you–every mark, every muscle, every breath–is deserving of love.”

He made a sound then–a quiet, choked breath like he was holding something in his throat. His chest hitched slightly under your hand, and when you peeked up at his reflection, his eyes were glossed, gold flickering around the rims like he was lit from within. You tightened your arms gently, holding him from behind like a tether, your forehead pressing into the curve of his shoulder. Your lips grazed the top of his spine.

“Even if you can’t see it… I do.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was full. Of breath. Of tension. Of emotion so thick it filled the space between your ribs and his.

After a few long seconds, his hand moved. Trembling at first, like he didn’t know what to do without being awkward, before lowering it to cover yours.

His palm was big, warm, and dampened with sweat, but you didn’t mind the way it felt. He held your touch in place like he didn’t want you to stop. His thumb swept softly along the edge of your hand, nervous but desperate to keep you there.

When he turned to face you, his breath hitched again. His eyes didn’t look away this time. He just stared at you like he was memorizing the moment.

You were still holding his waist. Still close enough that the warmth of him surrounded you like a sun. His hand lifted–slow, hesitant, like the moment might shatter if he moved too quickly. You didn’t breathe. Couldn’t. Not when his fingers brushed your jaw and then curled so gently against your cheek it made your eyes sting.

He held your face like it belonged in a museum among the works of art. His thumb grazed the space just beneath your eye, sweeping along your cheekbone with the softest pressure–as if he was trying to memorize the way you felt beneath his touch. Like if he just held you long enough, maybe he could believe this was real. That you were real. That someone had truly looked at him–all of him–and still wanted to stay.

Neither of you blinked.

The air shifted–thick with something golden and unspeakable, heavy in your lungs but light in your chest. Like standing on the edge of something vast and beautiful and knowing, this is the moment it all changes.

And then he leaned in.

Not in a rush. Not in some burst of passion where your teeth could possibly clash together. But slowly–like the sun melting into the sea. Like a secret unfolding, tender and certain, inevitable as gravity.

His lips met yours with gentleness you didn’t know you were starving for.

It was so soft it almost didn’t feel like a kiss at first. Just a breath of warmth, and a quiet hum of surrender blooming behind your ribs. His mouth moved against yours with cautious wonder, wanting more but keeping his thoughts under control just for this one moment–just so he could display his secret devotion to you.

The world narrowed to the press of his lips, the curl of his fingers that were still on your cheek, the faint tremble in his shoulders, and the heat of his bare skin where your hands moved now–trailing up his sides and over his back. You traced the soft slope of muscles with your palms, admiring, until your fingertips danced along the small of his back.

And that’s when he gasped.

The kiss broke as his body flinched against yours with a startled breath, a laugh hiccuping through the sound.

”I…Sorry,” He stammered, half-flushed, half-laughing, his hand falling from your cheek like he had ruined it. You grinned, still feeling your heartbeat throughout your entire body, your eyes shining.

”Don’t you dare apologize for a kiss like that,” You whispered, and before he could respond back to you–before he could shrink away or stumble over a hundred more nervous syllables–you leaned in and kissed him again.

It was just a quick one. A seal on the moment, something that could contain it. His breath hitched like he hadn’t expected it–like he still couldn’t quite believe you were touching him so freely, so warmly.

You pulled back just enough to smile against his lips and murmur, “Only you would apologize for something that sweet by the way.” Another blush lit his face instantly, rising to the tips of his ears like fire spreading across his skin. You laughed softly and pressed one last kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a proper hug, letting your cheek press to his chest as he melted into your touch.

His arms folded around you slowly, his forearms curling tightly around your waist, his palms flattening against your spine, pressing your body flush to his like he wanted to make sure there was no space between you at all. You melted into the hold instinctively, sighing against his chest as the tension slid out of you like sand between fingers. Your cheek rested against the warm pillow of muscle just over his heart, and there it was–the steady galloping rhythm, thumping firm and fast beneath your ear. You closed your eyes for a moment, just breathing him in.

The scent of his shower was clinging to him and invading your senses now, there was sage, and a hint of pine, he smelled like a forest, or the wilderness–he smelled like the safest place you would ever come to know.

For a long beat, neither of you moved.

His chin dipped until it came to rest lightly on the crown of your head, a sigh escaping him–low, content, full of something that bordered on reverent. When he hummed, it was quiet and barely even a sound–just a vibration in his chest that pulsed through your cheek and down your spine like a tuning fork finding your frequency so he could slip in and be one with you. You smiled against him.

“So…” You started, voice muffled slightly by his skin, “Is there any chance you’ll start walking around shirtless more often now that I’ve thoroughly showered you with compliments?” He let out a soft, incredulous laugh–half embarrassed, half endeared–and you felt it echo all the way through your ribs. His hands tightened slightly at your back as he ducked his head a little further, his voice feathering warmly against your scalp.

“I-It’ll be u-under heavy consideration now, I think…” He mumbled, voice playful but still laced with that soft-spoken sincerity that was so uniquely his. You smirked.

“Hmm,” You hummed back, fingers curling gently against the thick muscle of his upper back before giving him a teasing squeeze. It made him jolt, just slightly–a tiny gasp of a flinch, like you’d shocked him. He barked out another laugh, and you pulled back just enough to look up at him.

“I’ll take that as a very soft yes,” You said, grinning up at him, your fingers still resting against the planes of his back. His eyes met yours–wide and dilated, but glowing now with something unguarded and bright.

“Y-Yeah,” He said shyly, a smile tugging at his lips, “I guess…I-If it’s for you, it might be okay.” He scratched nervously at the back of his neck with one hand as he looked down at you, then added sheepishly, “B-But you have to promise not to look at me like I’m a sculpture again…I-I almost combusted.” You laughed, arms still around his waist, resting your chin on his chest now so you could meet his eyes directly.

“No promises,” You whispered. “You are a sculpture. Just one that happens to blush when I compliment him.”

His face turned a glorious shade of red, and you watched the smile spread helplessly across his lips even as he tried to hide it. His hands came up again, this time cradling your jaw like it was something precious. His thumbs brushed softly against your cheeks, and he leaned in again–this time a little more sure of himself.

And when he kissed you again, it was with a quiet hunger. Still gentle, still sweet, but layered now with the quiet thrill of knowing that you saw him–really saw him–and loved every part you found.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.

“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”

Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.

The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.

“Are you sure?”

And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.

The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.

Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.

“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”

Not ominous at all.

Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 

He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.

Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.

The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)

He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.

One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.

Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.

Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.

It’s… nice. A good break if anything.

They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.

“Hi there! Is he yours?”

Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.

“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.

He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.

“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”

Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)

“Sure.”

Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.

“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”

Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.

“Grayson.”

Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.

Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.

Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.

“Funny guy, huh Dami?”

Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.

“Come here, little guy.”

He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.

“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.

Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.

That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.

“Damian,” Batman whispers.

“Bah-mun.”

The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.

Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.

Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.

Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.

“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”

Danny says it so plainly. So simple.

Batman straightens.

“He isn’t yours.”

He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.

Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.

So Damian says nothing.

“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.

“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”

“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.

They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.

“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”

When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.

The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.

[churipu]

SAY "DADA" 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento x fem! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. toji cries but he doesn't admit it bye

note. i just spent a good hour watching the "glimpse of us" parents-baby trend, it's so cute. i just had to make something family themed for the jjk men :( i'm so sorry for the lack of updates, i just finished work and boy— it was stressful.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"come on, little guy . . . say dada, da . . . da!" gojo nodded his head slowly, in his grasp stood his one year old son.

all he got in return was a loud strained laugh from the little boy, "it's okay, baby. take it slow, come on, dada . . . da . . ." the blue eyed male softly spells out the word.

"satoru, you've been trying for an hour now." you informed him, eyeing the father-son duo every now and then, "he's going to get it eventually . . ."

gojo chuckled, "i know, baby. 'm just so excited, what if he said his first words when 'm out on a mission," a sad smile etched onto his lips as he cradled the baby in his hold.

"dada!"

it took gojo a few seconds to process what his son just uttered in excitement. slowly, the corner of his lips tugged upwards in happiness — gojo cheers loudly, nuzzling his face into your son's little belly, making him craze out in pure euphoria.

"you just said your first word, good job, buddy! 'm so proud of you," gojo muffled out into the baby's tummy, "daddy's so proud of you."

gojo then faced you, "his first word is dada, i'm going to cry . . ."

to which he did, sniffling loudly — making the little boy imitate him, scrunching his face into a big frown before wailing out a loud cry. hearing your baby cry, gojo softly hushed him, patting his back, "no, no, baby. daddy's crying of happiness, not sadness, please don't cry."

"aren't you two just the cutest?" you asked, kissing the baby on his chubby cheek — calming him down almost immediately. his loud cries ceasing down under your touch.

"we are." gojo chuckled, nose raging red from sniffling mucus.

"please get rid of your snot, satoru . . ."

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

"come on, dada. say it." toji mutters, pulling on megumi's little cheek — gently, and the baby seemingly annoyed, swats off his father's giant fingers.

toji scoffed, "huh, wonder where y' got that attitude from."

you eyed him, "what do you mean? megumi's exactly just like you — i carry him for nine months and he ends up being a copy of you," you chuckled, ruffling megumi's hair.

the young ten month old baby crawled his way over to you, settling himself on his lap, eyeing his father sharply, "what're y'looking at, huh?"

instinctively you hit toji's bicep gently, "stop that."

"'m not doing anything . . ." toji replies back, rolling his eyes before crossing his arms, "stupid baby."

"dada!" megumi shrieks out, pointing his small finger accusingly at toji, a cute glare looming over his dark eyes, "dada!"

toji blinked once. twice. thrice, and he ended up scoffing, looking away from both you and megumi, "he said his first word, and it's me," toji mutters into his skin, clamping his palm over his lips as his elbow propped down onto the couch's hand rest.

"good job, 'gumi!" you cheered, raising the boy up in the air, kissing his cheek which made the baby erupt in small laughter.

megumi crunched his legs happily, yelling out gibberish with a mix of "dada dada!"

"that's right, dada!" you parrot happily, gently hopping with megumi in your arms. eyeing toji who had been silent, "toji, are you okay?"

he grunted, brushing his face with his hands, "do i not look okay?"

"did you cry?" you ask.

toji grunted yet again in disdain, "why would i cry because the brat said his first word?" he did.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami sat on the floor cross-legged with his eleven month old daughter on his lap as he scanned the newspaper. at every page, his daughter didn't miss every spot on the dull colored paper, pointing at the paper and muttering out incoherent words.

"mhm, that's terrible news, isn't it?" he replies, sipping on his coffee mug.

you emerged from behind the bedroom door, hair disheveled, "good morning," you mumble out, wiping the back of your finger over your eyes.

"dada!"

you froze and eyed your daughter, and nanami did too. his head looked down onto the young girl in amusement, his gaze softening, "your first word . . ." he whispers, carrying the baby into his strong arms.

"you just said your first word, baby!" your raspy morning voice chirped, it was as if your exhaustion had disappeared in a heap of moments and you trotted down the ground, approaching the father-daughter.

"i'm so proud of you," nanami gently placed a kiss on top of his daughter's head, cradling her small body.

you were pulled into a hug by nanami, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and he pulled you to his side — his cheek leaning on your head in content, "good morning."

"dada dada!" your daughter cheered happily, patting nanami's face with her small hands.

"mhm, i'm dada, baby." he mumbles, letting the young girl do as she likes. you cooed softly at the sight, wrapping an arm around his waist.

a good morning it is.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[mortalityplays]

huge uptick recently in people playing the put-upon martyred voice of reason going "umm are we allowed to point out that 99% of the fundraiser DMs are probably scammers yet or will I be murdered with rocks and knives and called a racist nazi and cast into the street for dogs to eat?" and straight up posting screenshots of spelling errors and translation mistakes to laugh at like we haven't had this basic fucking conversation repeatedly for the last year and a half

I'm not sure you guys recognise that almost every fundraiser I share under my 'vetted fundraisers' tag is one that has been sent to me via DM. the reason you don't recognise that is because I don't directly post the DM I received (no shade on those who do, just pointing out what you don't see!) I go out of my way to individually check the vetted status of the campaign, and then I share the person's pinned post or whatever version I can find that seems to have the most complete information/vetting credentials.

I would estimate maybe 1 in 8 of the messages I investigate end up having no verification source associated with them at all – and that doesn't mean they're scammers, mind you, just that they are unvetted. A few are 'vetted by association' (vouched for by someone in gaza who has been vetted, usually a relative) and I mark these as such. The vast majority are vetted, often by multiple sources. Many of them are names I see again and again, who have been reaching out for help since January or February or even earlier. The gofundmes are donor protected, some have multiple committed supporters who have been in regular contact with them for months.

If you don't see this stuff, it’s because you don't look. And part of the reason people don't look is because this insidious 'hmm why would someone frightened for their life use DMs to promote their fundraiser' 'umm emojis? to catch my attention? something fishy here' 'personally I just think anyone who needs financial aid should speak fluent english first' bullshit keeps worming its way into common discourse and making it acceptable to just assume your prejudices and anxieties are justified.

So yes actually I do think it's racist to reflexively assume anyone who reaches out to you using google translate to beg for their life is a grifter. I do think it's disgusting to absolve yourself of making the effort to recognise real people in crisis just because you think emojis are tacky or AI art is vulgar or whatever. Get a grip. Nobody can force you to care but stop mewling and snickering about something you can't even be bothered to investigate in good faith.

[okwonyo]

ROLLER COASTER ★ spy!enha

✴️ 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍.

❪ 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 ❫ 𝟏𝟏𝟐𝟕 ───── enhypen & female reader 共 fluff action pining ❕ kissing skinship mention of blood ｡｡ REBLOG4AKISS

분지 ܃ i hope you enjoy this one ^^

𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 in your job, as someone who is fighting a lot, hand-to-hand combat is really important. hence why you take most of your free time to come to the agency and train— working on improving your skills and ability. you wouldn’t want to lose because of your lack of expertise.

but training gets really hard and unnecessary when the person you are fighting against barely fights back. yes, the tall muscular man you are combating loses against you over and over. given his experience and how well he fights during missions, you are starting to think it’s suspicious.

today is the third time he ends up on the floor in the spawn of ten mere minutes. he looks quite pretty with his wrists pinned next to either side of his head, his sly smile spreading on his lips as you over him. “don’t start things you can’t finish, angel,” he chuckles, enjoying it way too much.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 he knew it was a bad idea the second you mentioned it. the moment you decided to dish the initial plan to go follow the target instead, here, in the middle of dinner while the enemy is heading to the kitchen, he knew it was a very bad idea. he should have said something about it. alas, he is caught under your spell.

his inner alarm goes off when the target turns around suddenly. there is only a few milliseconds before the rumored mafia member notices that you are both following him around. and your partner can’t even blink before you hold his cravat and pull him onto your lips.

his mind goes blank for a while. there is only the taste of your lips in his mind as his body leans into the kiss and moves in his own— holding your waist to press you closer against him. he almost forgets that it’s a cover, that it is just for the job until your target speaks, “ah! young love.”

𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 he knows he is supposed to be working, as his boss informed him with such a serious tone, but he gets easily distracted. especially in settings like this; a luxurious bar, delicious drinks and incredible dishes. with the music dancing gently in his ears and the alcohol in veins, for a minute he forgets that he is there to find his new spy partener.

but he can’t help it. with a woman as pretty as you are sitting next to him and gracing him with quick glances. there is a smile on your face when he approaches you, your eyes lock and his breath catches in his throat, “may i offer you a drink?”

the entire world fades when he hears your sweet and quiet laughter. his pulse rises when he finally discovers your voice, how well you articulate your words, how good it feels to hear your gentle tone; “they did tell me you were a charmer, agent 002.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 he might be a little crazy. perhaps, he has lost his mind and is going right into an infinite spiral. because, he feels good. really good. a little too god for someone who just fought against three different guys and whose face is covered in blood and fresh wounds.

although he feels good only because your soft hands are cupping his face. you are kneeling down to him who is sitting down, back against the back, breathing heavily. you are scolding him while he feels like he is at the gates of heavens, being welcomed by an angel like you.

“...why didn’t you wait for me?” he leans against your touch, barely listening to you. he straightens himself as you call for his name in a worried tone. then, he falls towards you, his head resting on your chest, “are you okay?” you ask again and he hums, rubbing his face against the soft material of your clothing. he feels perfect.

𝐊𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 he likes to think that is professional, that his mind is always set on work— and work only. alas, the truth is that he often finds himself distracted by you and your body. so much, that there are moments where his body is totally controlled by you.

like when he feels like you are in danger, so his danger sense rises up, as if he were a superhero. he turns his head to see a bullet coming your way and before he can even think about it, his body moves on its own free will.

that’s how he find himself above you, with his arm around your head so it doesn’t hit the floor. he groans into your neck before getting up— but he gets starstruck by the look in your eyes when he is so close to your face like that. for a moment, times stop and danger isn’t imminent.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐍 he feels a little stupid for being so tense at you doing your job. he knows that it is not the first time he witnesses this, he knows you need to use this technique a lot in your job— but, he hates seeing you being flirty and touchy with someone else.

he can feel his jaw tightening, his teeth pressing against each other as you touch the man’s arm. his eyes trail over your interlocutor’s arm, following your finger, wishing it was him. he almost gets mad at how happy the man looks, how he doesn’t notice you stealing his access card.

his whole body eases when you come back to him, leaning the man still in a haze. you hold the card between your index finger and the middle one, showing it for him to take, “thanks to your doll face,” he says like the sour taste doesn’t linger.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 you are the first one to say it: he should never be left unsupervised. he is too slippery, to quick in his decisions to do anything without you having a very focused eye on him. you could feel that he was about to do something stupid when he told you to meet him outside after taking the opponents out.

“hop on, baby girl!” he exclaims as soon as he sees you running out of the building. the cool night air hits you in the face, but is nothing next to the shock that takes over you, seeing him on a big red bike. where the hell did he get this from? “c’mon, don’t be shy.”

you don’t really have time to scold him— to tell him that spies don’t steal other people's vehicles. so you do as he said, jumping a little to get behind him. you embrace his waist tightly, scared of god’s know what, your face rest on his broad back and you shut your eyes close as he starts the bike.

taglist. ( open )

[angel-writes-skz-here]

Pool Day

Stray Kids x 9th member!Reader Synopsis: The guys find out important information about their band member.Warnings: Reader going underwater.A/N: So I want to start trying to do more soft and sweet fics like this one. So PLEASE if you have any idea, send them to me. Thank you for your love and support! Thank you for the request, love! Comment to be tagged in future fics! Xoxo

He didn’t mean to do it, Changbin thought it would be funny, so when he threw you in the pool and you didn’t come back up he started to panic.

Meanwhile you’re underwater, arms flailing and legs kicking wildly hearing a distant sound of what sounds like yelling above water, and before you know what’s happening, two arms are pulling you up to the surface where you gasp for air; eyes stinging slightly from the chlorine.

You wipe the water from your face turning to see Chan, hair and street clothes soaked. He obviously hadn’t changed yet.

“Thank you,” you whisper in his ear as you throw your arms around his neck.

“No problem kiddo,” he smiles.

“But you never mentioned you didn’t know how to swim,” he says cautiously and quietly, not wanting to make you feel bad.

“Didn’t really think I’d need to,” you mumble as you step back from him making your way to the exit of the pool.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry I had no idea you couldn’t swim!” Changbin apologizes as he walks up to you, checking over your body as if you’d been in combat or something.

“It’s fine, Binnie, I’m ok. You didn’t know,” you try to shrug it off.

“We can teach you,” Felix pipes up.

“You’d do that for me?”

“That or we could just tell Stay your weakness and we could all drown you come our next concert!” Lee Know offers and you shoot him a bird playfully, making him laugh.

“Come on, we’ll all help,” I.N says as he dives into the pool head first. You watch as Seungmin and Felix follow after, and the rest of the boys after them.

“Come on, I’ve gotcha.” Chan says as he leads you into the water again.

You’re surround by the guys, their gaze mainly on Chan. He leads out you to where the water is chest deep.

“Ok, bounce off your feet, and let yourself float,” he instructs and you feel Changbin come up behind you.

“It’s my fault so I can help,” he says sheepishly.

“It’s fine, not like I died,” you grin and playfully punch his solid shoulder.

Changbin puts his arms underneath you, helping you float.

“Great job, Y/n!” you hear Felix and Han shout, being your personal cheerleaders. You giggle at them, once they start spelling your name like actual cheerleaders.

“Now, move your arms like this,” Seungmin interjects, grabbing your attention from the Sunshine twins. You watch as he moves his arms and mimic his actions.

“And kick your feet,” Chan reminds. You mimic the motions and they smile at you.

“Exactly like that! Yeah, see and now Changbin can drop his arms,”

“No!” Your voice makes everyone stop.

“I mean,” you say trying to back track.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? You’ll float,” Chan trails off.

“No I know, I just, I was in the pool with my sister as a kid and she did the same thing, trying to teach me to swim and she dropped her arms too early and I sank, I barely made it out.” You admit and the guys give you sympathetic looks.

“I’m not gonna let you go under,” Chan drawls, “We’re right here with you, ok? IF anything were to happen we’ve got ya,” he reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head, signaling for Changbin to drop his arms and you start moving your legs and arms the way the boys showed you to.

They all break out into smiles as you start weakly swimming.

“I’m doing it!” You shout excited about your accomplishment. The guys smile and cheer for you.

“I told you nothing would happen!” Chan says as he swims up behind you.

“Now you just need to practice and you’ll get stronger,” he mentions as he helps you turn around and swim back to the shallower water.

The rest of the afternoon is filled with the guys all showing off different techniques and helping you get your footing in each one, and they promise to help you and keep working with you over the summer.

“Thank you, guys, for you help.” You say sheepishly at the end of the swim practice.

“Absolutely. Stay would freak if we lost you due to drowning. So would JYP,” Seungmin says as he slings an arm around our shoulder. You nudge his side as you smile and shake your head.

-

Later that night the guys are playing chicken while you and Chan are sitting off to the side enjoying a snack.

“I really can’t believe your sister did that you as a kid. She seems so nice,” Chan causally mentions.

“She is, she didn’t mean it, she actually saved me.”

“Thought about committing the crime and then back out last minute,” he nudges you playfully and you both laugh.

“Thank you again for today. I really appreciate you guys helping me, and not laughing at me,” you say while your cheeks dust a bit of pink, “It’s always been a little embrassing for me.

There’s nothing to embarrassed of, y/n. Everybody learns things at their own pace, ok? It’s just like driving, some people learn at 16 some people learn at 26. Some people may never learn. That doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with them or they should be embarrassed. Not everyone has to learn to do everything,” he mentions as he slings a brotherly arm around your shoulder. You lean into him, a small smile present on your face as you watch Lee Know push Han off Changbin’s shoulder’s in a game of Chicken.

Tags:@breakmeoff @thelovelybireader @crystal005 @velvetmoonlght

Do not repost my work

Love notes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[irisintheafterglow]

angst/fluff. minor injuries and swearing

there you are. c'mon, baby. claw your way out.

war is tearing across katsuki's mind, his head telling him that you were an adversary while the rest of him says he needs to get you out of danger. all according to plan, just as his friends predicted.

"i thought he was supposed to be undercover, radio silent until he reported back to the office." your eyelid is sore from twitching in pure irritation; one, that this was happening in the first place, and two, that you were brought to katsuki's work at some unholy hour of the morning. "how the hell did you guys lose someone that loud?"

"that's your boyfriend we're talking about," kaminari points out and you give him an impatient frown.

"i know," you say slowly. "he's also received more noise complaints than property damage reports. you're telling me you lost track of the noisiest pro since present mic retired?"

"we didn't lose track of him," kirishima corrects carefully. "some villain's quirk messed with his head, and now we're not getting any responses for check-ins. he should have been back a week ago, but attempts to send in exfil have been encountering...obstacles." you can tell he's trying to be delicate with you, but if there was one thing you and katsuki had in common, it was a low tolerance for beating around the bush.

"i just don't understand what i'm doing here, eiji," you admit tiredly. of all the people in this room, mostly katsuki's classmates from back in high school, it was hard to direct your anger at your boyfriend's redheaded best friend. kirishima was practically your brother in law considering how many times he'd crashed at your house after a night out with katsuki. "what am i supposed to do except be the worried-sick partner?"

"about that," begins sero, another one of kats' friends from UA. he's the last pro that was sent in to attempt to grab katsuki, and remnants of that battle are still littered across his taped-up limbs. "we want you to test a hunch."

"a hunch," you echo in disbelief. "i'm here at three in the morning on a hunch?"

"from what we've gathered about the villain who captured bakugo, their quirk rewrites brain signals to name everyone but the 'boss' as an enemy, and whoever's in charge has to specify which people they don't want to be annihilated." kirishima's confidence wavers for the first time since you'd met him. "we think that...maybe you can get through to him."

"a villain kidnapped my boyfriend and you want me to bait him out of its spell?"

"basically, yeah," kaminari shrugs a little too nonchalantly and mina elbows him in the sternum.

"i'm sorry, where the hell are you getting this information from?"

"the man himself," kaminari replies with his palms up and you settle back into your seat, not realizing that you'd stood from your swivel chair in your outburst. "there are brief moments when the exfil agents seemed to get through to him, and all he'd talk about is you and how the only thing he remembers is you."

"look, we know this is scary." mina is still in her nightgown, having been summoned at the same time as you, yet she kneels down next to your chair anyways. "we wouldn't be asking you to go in if we had any other choices."

"it's not only us who need you," sero states. "he needs you to get him out, too."

right, and that's how you ended up in a rundown castle in the middle of the mountains with a henchman's knife pressing against your throat.

following the plan, you allowed yourself to be caught by the perimeter guards under the pretense of demanding a meeting with 'the puppet king,' the villain who could subject anyone to become his bodyguard if he touched their body. once captured, you would first be taken to the new second-in-command, your mind-controlled boyfriend.

when you first arrived to the wing of the castle where katsuki was stationed, you knew you needed to grab his attention. before he could address you, you forced the sharp end of the guard's blade to rest precariously against your jugular. his reaction was instinctive, like his body was moving faster than his brain. katsuki threw his arm up fired off a single blast that, at the last moment, curved to the right of the guard's head, leaving your captor paralyzed in fear with his weapon still against your skin. he was in there, but he was still under some kind of mind-control.

because the attack wouldn't have missed otherwise.

"that's it, kats. fight back," you murmur and the henchman's grip on you tightens.

"quiet, you. what are you doing to him?" you make a noise somewhere between a groan and a wince, and katsuki notices. "move again, and i swear i'll--"

"i wouldn't do that if i were you," you warn quietly at the same moment katsuki fixes the guard with a withering glare. his mind may be distant, but his body remembers exactly what it needs to do. "this isn't between us and him right now. it's between him and himself, and i'm going to make sure he wins."

"make him stop or i'll kill you right now," the guard hisses in your ear.

"i'd love to see you try," you counter without taking your eyes off of him. his hands clutch the stone bricks of the castle walls while his neck twists from side to side, desperately trying to choose what unheard voice of reason to listen to. "i know you're in there. come and get me."

"oi, dynamight. you know what to do. take care of them," your captor orders. "shut them up for good."

"you gonna let him talk to me like that, katsuki?" any further encouragement is cut short by the hitch in your throat, feeling the sharp edge ever so slightly start to sink into your flesh. you gasp as a single warm drop trickles down your neck and onto your collarbone.

"open your mouth one more time and i'll make sure you never do it again--fuck!" before he can finish his threat, the guard is abruptly knocked backward by one precise shot to his shoulder. freed, you kick his torso into the bricks behind you and he slumps to the ground, unconscious.

"eiji, i've got him," you announce with your pointer finger to the transmitter in your ear. "go ahead and move to phase two."

in less than a blink, katsuki's expression of concern is all you can see after he tears off his gloves to cautiously take your face in his hands. his gaze blinks rapidly all over your face, scanning and absorbing and assessing whatever it was he missed while he wasn't himself.

"baby," he breathes, practically in shambles when he sees the cut on your neck. "baby, what are you--why are--what are you doing here?"

"i'm getting you out," you whisper back. he swallows thickly, his face more broken than you'd ever seen him. "now we've gotta go before you somehow get put back under. eiji and your friends are taking care of the villain. for now, we've just gotta get out of here."

"did i--did i do this?" his face is pale and he can't stop staring at your neck. "did i hurt you?"

"no, no, no. never," you insist. "i know you wouldn't. you made sure that this wasn't any worse." you tilt his chin so he can meet your eyes. "i wouldn't be here if i didn't trust you entirely, katsuki."

"you're here." you can't tell if he's grounding you or himself. maybe it's both.

"mhmm. i'm right here." explosions shake the foundation of the castle in what you can only assume to be the beginnings of the infiltration. katsuki snarls and tightens his grip around your waist.

"i'm going to kill them for sending you in here in the first place," he declares, a familiar scowl finally making its way back onto his handsome face. "what the fuck were they thinking, sending my damn partner in to save me? those shitwipes and their stupid ideas." there he is.

"ask them that yourself," you reply with a small smile, feeling a little lighter than you had been in a week. "for now, please get me out of here. i never wanna be on one of your missions ever again."

"that makes two of us."

according to the press, there was hell to pay back at the agency when dynamight finally got a hold of cellophane, red riot, and chargebolt, the pros who led the team to extract him. rumors of your involvement never became widespread, but katsuki made sure to keep a picture of you in his toolbelt in the event that he was taken from you again.

[xavistarlight]

My strong girl

you were his baby first ⭑.ᐟ

Pairing - caleb x fem!reader

Your pregnancy had been pretty smooth sailing

Labor however, not so much it was an exhausting , grueling process stripping you of every ounce of energy you had.

Just as you welcomed your daughter into the world you ended up passing out, luckily enough your baby girl was healthy and the doctors amounted your fainting spell to sheer exhaustion although they did need to run some tests on you and etc , kicking Caleb out of the room while doing so .

Caleb’s foot taps nervously hands clenched waiting for the clear to go back in, as he sits he notices Jenna, Tara and a couple of your other friends searching around.

“ hey guys, rooms over here” Caleb waves.

“ excuse me sir , you’re clear to go back In” a nurse politely informs Caleb.

He nods nervously “ thanks so much”

As Caleb opens the door he sees you smiling from ear to ear, a masked exhaustion lingering under your eyes. a chunky baby in hand with the prettiest lavender eyes he had ever seen an exact copy and paste of his.

You’re waving her hand with yours , slightly chuckling, like the idea of the hour old baby waving is the funniest thing you’ve seen .

Your friends funnel quickly around him carefully but swiftly running over to coo , and ahh at the baby.

But Caleb notices you.

Memories flash quickly through his mind .

Like how when you were fifteen you’d found a stray puppy , picking it up and holding its paw fake waving at Caleb

“ Caleb look, isn’t she the cutest”

Or when you were 8 still playing with the plushy he had bought you for your birthday.

“ Mr sparkles introduce yourself to Caleb , don’t be rude !”

You’d said sternly grabbing the soft paw of the plush bunny and waving it around at him.

His eyes softened that little girl still lives inside you he sees glimpses of her in the little mundane things you do everyday, and she deserves to be seen loved cherished and cared for as well.

“ pips you okay honey , you did so good angel she’s perfect so proud of you”

He caresses your forehead, “ my strong girl”

Your eyes meet his , the words oh too familiar

Echoing in your head a vision of you with a scraped knee and Caleb applying a bandaid appears.

“ my strong girl”

Everyone had came to see the baby but your husband came to see you.

you were his baby first.

Every phase of your life he had been there for molded you into the person you are today the person in front of him right now, the mother of his child , the light of his life.

[violettwrites]

dancer in the dark — daryl dixon

fem!reader x daryl dixon — france

WE’RE BAAAACK !!!

i’ve been rewatching the daryl dixon spinoff and i missed my daddy so here you go !! this is heavily based off the vibes of gibson girl by ethel cain so i highly reccomend listening while you read. enjoy !!

p.s i don’t usually write third person but i was kinda writing from daryl’s point of view so it just fit better 😭

the demimonde was a world of its own. the glow of dim red lights bathed the club in something intimate and sinister, like a place where secrets came to dance and never left. the air was thick with perfume and cigarette smoke, the kind of haze that softened edges and blurred reality, making everything feel just a little more unreal.

daryl dixon had seen his fair share of places like this before the world ended— seedy bars, dim-lit dives, places where people went to forget. but demimonde was different. it felt like another world entirely, like he was stepping through a door into something he wasn’t supposed to witness.

he didn’t belong here. he knew that much. his boots were too worn, his vest too rough, and his presence too heavy for a place where people pretended the world outside didn’t exist. but he didn’t care about fitting in. he was here for information— tracking a lead.

and then he saw her.

she moved like smoke curling from a lit cigarette— slow, deliberate, intoxicating. dark lashes framed eyes that held a spark of mischief, lips painted a shade that belonged to trouble. she was just a dancer. no. she owned the stage like she had carved it from the bones of this broken world herself.

daryl had never given much thought to performances like this, but he couldn’t look away. the way she swayed, the way her fingers traced the air like she was speaking something only the lucky ones could understand. it had his breath catching in his throat.

when the song ended, the spell she seemingly had him under didn’t break. she locked eyes with him as she stepped off the stage, as if she had known he was watching all along. the corner of her mouth curled up ever so slightly— not a full smile, just enough to tell him she knew exactly what kind of effect she had.

daryl swallowed hard, fingers flexing at his side nervously. he had seen a lot of beautiful things in his like, but this was different. she was different.

and for the first time in a long time, he wanted to get closer.

she moved through the club like she owned the place. people parted for her without realising they were doing it— drawn in by whatever force she seemed to carry with her. daryl watched, his fingers moving to tighten around the strap of his crossbow, his heartbeat a little too steady for how damn unsettled he felt.

now, he wasn’t the type to get shaken by a pretty face. he’d seen plenty in his time— before, after. but this? this was something else. something slow and dangerous, like the feeling you got right before a storm broke.

she finally reached him, leaning one hand against the edge of the table he was standing at, her nails tapping against the worn wood in a rhythm only she knew. up close, she smelled like smoke and something sweet, something expensive, something that didn’t belong in a world this broken.

“you don’t look like you belong here.” her voice was smooth, low, teasing. she was american. he could tell by her accent, and the way she held herself, like she had seen something of the old world before it burned. it made him wornder how the hell she ended up here, in france, in this den of ghosts and whispers.

daryl raised a brow, his lips quirking just slightly. “neither do you.”

that made her grin, slow and knowing. “maybe,” she shrugged her shoulders, “but i make it work.”

she comfortably leaned on the table, like she had all the time in the world. the red light caught on the curve of her collarbone, the faint sheen of sweat from the stage still clinging to her skin.

“what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this? an american, too,” she asked, tilting her head.

daryl exhaled through his nose, leaning back. “lookin’ for someone.”

her grin widened, almost sinister. “hope it’s not me. that’d make things too easy.”

that made him smirk— just a little. he took her in, the way she held herself, the way she seemed to be measuring him just as much as he was her. he wasn’t sure what he had expected when she sauntered over, but he was definitely not expecting this.

“got a name?” he asked, his voice gruff.

she leaned in, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin. “depends on who’s askin’.”

daryl held her gaze, steady, unwavering. “daryl.”

she let his name settle between them, rolling it over like she was trying to decide if it suited him. then, finally, she spoke.

“nice to meet you, daryl.” she leaned back again, that same teasing smirk playing on her lips. “you can call me whatever you want.”

daryl huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “that right?”

she shrugged, eyes gleaming in the low light. “sure. long as you say it nice.”

something about her— hell, this whole place —felt like walking a tightrope over a pit he couldn’t see the bottom of. but hell if he didn’t want to take another step forward. he wasn’t sure what it was; her confidence, her sharp tongue, or the way she looked at him like she already had him figured out.

“think i’ll stick with the truth,” he said, his voice low, steady. “what’s your real name?”

she considered him for a moment, tapping her nails against the tabletop again. it was a lazy rhythm, but he got the feeling she was testing him, seeing if he was the kind of man worth answering.

then, finally— “(y/n).”

he nodded, letting her name roll of his tongue. “(y/n).”

she liked the way he said it. he could tell by the way her lips twitched, just a little.

“so,” she hummed, leaning her chin in her hand. “who’re you really looking for, daryl?”

he glanced around the club, scanning the dark corners, the clothes of people drinking and talking in low voices. “a man named quinn.”

her expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes sharpened. “can’t imagine why someone like you would be looking for someone like him.”

daryl lifted a shoulder. “got somethin’ i need.”

she studied him for a beat, like she was weighing something in her mind. then, slowly, she leaned in again, close enough that he could see the smudge of her lipstick.

“quinn doesn’t deal with just anyone,” she murmured. “but me? i might be able to help.”

daryl didn’t move, didn’t let himself react too much. “that right?”

she smiled, slow and dangerous. “that’s right.”

a slow song started up, something haunting and sensual. (y/n) stood up straight, stepping back, tilting her head toward the dance slow. “c’mon,” she said. “dance with me.”

daryl scoffed, shaking his head. “ain’t much of a dancer.”

she grinned. “didn’t ask if you were good at it.”

he exhaled through his nose, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. every damn instinct told him to stay seated, to keep his guard up. but there was something about her, something that made him want to throw caution to the wind— just for a minute.

so, against all better judgement, daryl dixon followed her out onto the dance floor.

the moment daryl stepped onto the dance floor, he knew he was in over his head. the red light above cast everything in a slow, fever-dream haze, and the music— low and sultry —seemed to vibrate through the floor beneath his boots.

(y/n) turned to face him, tilting her head, a lazy grin tugging at her lips. she didn’t reach for him immediately. instead, she let the moment stretch, like she was giving him a chance to walk away.

he didn’t.

“relax, daryl,” she murmured, stepping closer. her hands found his shoulders, fingers light but sure, sliding down his arms before guiding his hands to her waist. he tensed— only for a second —before exhaling through his nose, letting himself follow her lead.

“see? not so bad.”

he huffed at her, shaking his head. “ain’t exactly waltzin’ here.”

she laughed, low and sweet, the sound curling around him like a slow burning fuse. she swayed, guiding him into the rhythm of the music, her body moving in time with his. daryl was stiff at first, unused to this kind of closeness, this kind of softness. but (y/n)? she moved like she belonged in moments like this, like she’d done it a thousand times before.

“you’re holding on like you think i’ll disappear,” she teased, fingers brushing over the back of his neck. “you nervous, cowboy?”

daryl scoffed at her. “ain’t my first time dancin’.”

that made her smirk. “no? could’ve fooled me.”

he rolled his eyes, but she caught the way his fingers tightened slightly at her waist. it was subtle, but it was there— that shift, that moment when he let himself sink into the moment.

“you always drag strangers onto the dance floor?” he asked, voice low.

she hummed, pretending to think about it. “only the ones i like.”

daryl didn’t say anything, just held her gaze. steady and unreadable. but there was something in his eyes— something dark and curious, something hungry but restrained.

the song dragged on, slow and hazy, stretching time into something almost unreal. (y/n) pressed a little closer, her lips near his ear now, just enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath.

“quinn won’t trust you,” she murmured. “not right away.”

daryl stiffened slightly at her words. “that supposed to mean somethin’?”

she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “means you’re gonna need me.”

daryl searched her face, trying to figure out what game she was playing. but it this was a game, she placed it well. too damn well.

before he could answer, the song ended, and (y/n) stepped back, her hands slipping from his shoulders like a whisper.

“meet me after my next set,” she said, flashing him one last slow, knowing grin. “i’ll see what i can do.”

then, she was gone, disappearing into the crowd like smoke, leaving daryl standing there, his hands still tingling from where he had held her.

yeah. he was in deep now.

[brucewaynehater101]

Fae Tim AU (plus some non-human Bats):

[Fae lore isn't based on anything in particular. Kind of making it up]

Janet and Jack Drake are high nobles in the Winter Court. Janet, in particular, is a candidate for successor to the Winter Court's throne. The Drake couple spend copious amounts of time strengthening their hold in the Winter Court and thus do not spend as much time in the human realm (or whatever name you want to give it).

Tim is an Unseelie Winter fae as well. This means that plants tend to rot/wither under his care, he's not skilled at healing magic, and he has more control over darkness/winter/death based spells. Unseelie have a more negative/bloodthirsty outlook on humans, but Tim spends most of his time with humans. He was not raised to view them as such unless his parents were around (or the few trips he took to the fae realm).

Tim, as someone who likes humans and mostly knows humans, wishes he was more skilled at healing/life magic. His type does allow him to be more stealthy, though (hence why he's able to stalk Batman at a young age). He's also effortlessly able to maintain a more human-like appearance due to mainly living among humans from a very young age. He brushes off questions about his age since fae age slower.

As Robin, he allows some more of the eerie and non-human qualities to come forward. It's not enough to identify or tell, but it is enough to unsettle humans.

When he's "fourteen" his mom doesn't actually die. She becomes Queen of the Winter Court and unable to travel between realms due to her responsibilities. This happens due to the different courts going to war. Jack does end up in a magical coma stuck in the human realm due to the fighting. When he "dies", he ends up banished to the fae realm.

Tim does not know or is incapable of traveling between the realms. He searches out John Constantine at one point about this, to which he gets informed it would be a one-way trip. Maybe some day he'll be able to see his parents again, but probably not for a long time.

The Bats are aware that mythical creatures and such exist.

Jason actually comes back as a wraith that gets mutated by the Lazarus Pits.

Bruce is, much to Tim's surprise, completely human.

Damian is part angel (biblically accurate version, y'all).

Dick is mostly human but has a small percentage of siren in his blood.

Steph is a quarter vampire. She doesn't require blood, but she is sensitive to the sun. She lives a little longer, can consume blood for nutrients/a power boost, and has increased super human abilities.

Barbara has a percentage of dragon in her blood.

Cass is fully human but comes from a long line of seers.

Duke is a demigod via his dad. He doesn't know which god his dad is cause the guy keeps using an alias.

[widogasted]

fhr/los diablos dashboard simulator

👾moddeddubstep78 Follow

fuck my stupid baka life Marshal Steel just fucking crushed my car AGAIN

#thank god my insurance covers rangers related accidents

rangershqofficial-deactivated Follow

just a reminder to everyone that we don't give a fuck about your health insurance

#THEY GOT OP?????? #FUCK THAT'S WHERE I GOT ALL MY PICTURES OF CHARGE

💉 booooooooost Follow

just a reminder that people fearmongering about boosting are fundamentally antivaxxers!!!!

#not to mention classist as fuck #i will not be elaborating none of you motherfuckers can read #stop sending me anon hate

🛒 unmoddedunbothered Follow

tell me why i just saw someone claim that it's classist and an "antivaxx mentality" to spread actual information about the outcomes of the boost drug

#linking the study again #this is getting ridiculous at this point #and YES it is a valid study!!!! 8 people is literally a normal amount to have

❓ rangerspolls Follow

❓ rangerspolls

GUYS STOP ASKING ME WHERE CHARGE IS. THERE IS AN OVERSATURATION OF CHARGE I'M LITERALLY LEAVING CHARGE OUT OF ONE (1) THING

#ALSO WHO THE FUCK IS VOTING SIDESTEP #THEY LITERALLY WEAR A FULL BODY SUIT AND MASK. HOT BASED ON WHAT??

🚶‍♂️ mrnormalguy Follow

omw to work and i just watched that one guy from the rangers fall on top of the car behind me. only in los diablos fr

🕴 aspiringnonsuperhero Follow

about to stick a fork in my new mod

🕴 aspiringnonsuperhero

hopital

💞 circuitheartbeats Follow

By Your Electric Love (marchal charge x reader)

summary: you get injured in one of the new villain's rampages and marchal charge finds you trapped under some rubble. charge takes you home to tend your wounds and you learn....... the secret under the mask.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: dom!charge, pet names (babygirl), f!reader, swearing, unprotected... >w<

(a/n-- thank u all for 1k follows!!! ^u^)

(story under cut ->)

#los diablos rangers #charge #rangers x reader #charge x reader #charge x f!reader #guys this one was sooooooo hot i kept blushing while i tried to finish it #i hope you like it #1k

💥 dailyblast Follow

can you guys stop fucking tagging your rangers x reader fic with official rangers tags. every time i come on this goddamn website and see the tag is trending i try to check and see what happened and it's just that one guy who can't even spell charge's OLD (!!!!) title right

#it's marshal with an s #by the way a fucking gala was robbed

🩺 ethicalscientist Follow

does anyone think it's a little suspicious that the new villain targeted sidestep's exhibit of all people? like. with all due respect they're dead and were not that important while alive. does anyone think this person might be related to them in some way?

🧬 unethicalscientist Follow

my guy did you not catch that their villain name is anathema

🐸 bugboy2 Follow

stop saying boosts and mods are cool. they're literally tools of the government and a a drug that originated with fucking DIET CULTURE that kill more people than they save. why are we glamorizing this

🍆 bleepbloop78 Follow

stop saying boosts and mods are cool. my brother literally got super fart powers when he boosted himself and i had to move house. why are we glamorizing this

[tenjikufag]

Duration.

Laios Touden x Tiefling!MaleReader

-continuation of PART1 **LONG PART

-typical angst warnings, read part 1 to get the gist of it all. Thanks for reading! Surprised how many people wanted a part two, I hope it meets any expectations //hides

“Laios! Hey! We need to have a plan for this!”

Chilchuck grabbed the back of the blondes shirt, trying to drag him back. Laios had become hard headed and didn’t think one bit about how to find you aside from starting to explore.

“We can ask around first! You don’t even know where you’re going!”

The half foot was exhausted, it hadn’t even been a week of you missing- they haven’t even checked the morgues or even put up missing posters of you!

“Brother, he’s right.. we need to plan something or else we may miss him..”

Falin’s hand stroked her brothers shoulder, making him stop.. he knew they were right but he wanted to find you as quick as he could.

“Marcille! You have spells to trace things right?”

The elfen girl jolted, not expecting to be called on so suddenly. She clutched Ambrosia close to her chest

“I can only trace recent tracks! He’s been gone long enough that the traces would be gone!”

Her brash response made the man frown, he guessed that was a possibility. It wasn’t his only idea but for now he would have to go through the typical missing persons route…

They checked in with their neighbours, any friends they knew that might’ve seen you, checked the morgues, asked around in taverns, consulted guilds… and nothing came up. No one had even seen you leave? He found that hard to believe!

Suddenly a dog barked, happy to see the group walk by, taking the man out of his thoughts. Falin smiled and knelt down to pet the dogs head.

“You guys seem awfully busy, harassing everyone within earshot. What’s got ya in such a mind?”

An older woman leaned forward in her rocking chair, passing a treat to Falin to feed the dog.

“Harass?! I’ll have you know-!”

Chilchuck was about to rant before Laios covered his mouth

“We are looking for someone, he’s been missing for quite some time now.”

Laios informed them, the dog barked and wiggled it’s way to the others in the group.

“Is that so? Well looks like ya found yerself just the guild for the job..”

Marcille and Falin tilted their head, before looking around the surround area of the building.

Dogs were everywhere, inside and outside of the building. It seemed there were many people involved with this and many more leaving with happy dogs in tow..

“Hunting dogs?”

“If that’s what ya wanna call these buggers. They’re also used for retrieval, search and rescue, or just a dog if ya wanted one.”

Marcille perked up, but before she could approach the woman further a hand came up from the woman

“We don’t lend these dogs to people who are gonna kill them for those goddamn roots, just s’yaknow..”

That’s right.. Marcille hadn’t really thought about the vision of an elf lurching for a dog.. and the implications..

“These dogs here are all trained, I’ve trained every single one of them. They’re reliable, if you need to find someone I’ve got just the dog for you..”

She slowly got up, whipping a cane out from under her and trudged her way into the building.

“Come on, don’t make me walk so much- I’m old can’t ya see?!”

The group apologized, Laios had a new determined look on him. What a lucky break!

The woman walked through the crowd, dogs were excited to see her but drove their attention back to the companions they were being introduced to.

“This one right here, it’s been stubborn to other training but it’s good at scent tracking. It was gonna be one of the guild dogs but it would probably be happier working.”

A large black dog sniffed the woman’s hand before circling around her and sitting. It looked quite dopey.. big and fluffy, big eyes and just a smidgen of drool coming from its mouth.

“How much?”

Laios knew they were low on funds but if this was the way to go.. and it had to be, he would sell everything he had!

“Fer this one? He’s hard headed so his price’ll be lower but name a price.”

The group quickly huddled, negotiating what was reasonable for both parties.

“We got this, and it’s all we got on us right now!”

Laios held out their singular pouch of funds..

Chilchuck couldn’t even argue, he knew the situation and didn’t have the heart to discourage the man further…

“Hm? Oh this is too much. Here, lemme take what I think is reasonable..”

The woman took the bag of coins and counted up a handful of them. Handing back the bag, it was barely any lighter than before.

“Are you sure?! You can ask for more!”

Marcille panicked, feeling bad despite not wanting to lose all of the partys money..

“Don’t question it long ears, this one doesn’t seem like it’ll let you leave without em~”

She laughed, watching the dog pounce onto Chilchuck as soon as she let the lead go. The dog was bigger than the half foot and took over him like he was a toy.

Laios smiled, nodding his head and thanking the woman.

“Just give em the scent yer lookin for and it’s gonna find them, guilds promise.”

The woman was happy, she knew the dog would be a good fit for the group and knew they were trust worthy just from the look of them.

They all split, leading the new companion through the town.

“Whatre you gonna make it smell?”

Chilchuck asked, the dog still nudging his arm for pets. Laios already knew what to give the dog..

Your underwear!

“Hah?! Don’t ya think a sock or maybe a shirt would do?!”

“I want him to smell something intimate, a smell that wouldn’t change because of different soaps.”

The group, aside from Falin, protested but once the dog was offered the scent- it completely pulled away from Chilchuck. It began sniffing around the house and seemingly followed a route that you had done before leaving. It began scratching at the closed front door, indicating the scent left the house.

“Woah, didn’t think it’d work that fast..”

Laios took the leash and let the dog drag them, it was strong in pulling on the lead. Despite its determined snout pressed on the ground it managed to evade any passerby and obstacles in its way.

“Good thing we all packed up before giving the scent..”

The dog led them outside of the town.

—

You sat at a table, surrounded by tieflings. Several towns over you’d found yourself a guild, a community of them; they were more than happy to accept you even if you weren’t one by birth..

They were kind. Accepting. Indiscriminate.

Just like Laios.

Your story was quickly shared amongst them all, many eager to hear of your life before the incident. They all held empathy towards you, trying to help you adjust to the new body and life.

“We don’t have any ways of reversing such a spell.. with no traces or idea of what it could have been.. the risks far outweigh the positives..”

An elder spoke to you, pouring tea for you. You’d expected that answer but it was hard to hear nonetheless..

“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, especially losing your mate. We can only help you cope, young one.”

Nodding, you agreed to their terms. It wasn’t anything crazy like devoting your life or anything but simply being able to contribute to the homestead- take care of yourself and be mindful of others.

That’s where you found yourself, amongst other tieflings and learning their ways to make integration easier. You figured you’d lucked out with this and wouldn’t push further.. it was better this way, right?

“You’re gonna make your horns sag with all the frowning ya do!”

A voice cackled, a new friend you’d made walked over and nudged your shoulder. Were you really frowning that much?

“Thinkin’ about him again?”

You nodded, it was obvious to everyone that you were heartbroken in more than one way, not just affected by your change.

“Why’d ya leave if you knew it’d be this hard? Wouldn’t it be easier with him, don’t ya think?”

You really weren’t sure, shrugging towards your friend; she only sighed. She was a mature tiefling, having lived for about 180 years by now so she’s had her fair share of relationships before landing herself a mate.

“Is he hateful? Do ya think he woulda kicked you out anyways?”

No, he wouldn’t. Laios wasn’t like that.. you left because you thought it was the best course of action. What had been done could not be undone, but the guilt and regret ate at you endlessly.

“No.. he was everything to me. The only one I’ll love, kind is an understatement and nowhere near strong enough to describe him..”

Tears pricked at your eyes, you were quick to wipe them away but the soft sniffles still made their way to the woman’s ears.

“Then.. why did you leave.. really? You gotta be honest with yourself.”

You left because it was what was right…. Right? How would he be able to accept you? Why would you subject him to such a horror, and how could you force yourself to watch his love for you change before your very eyes?!

“What I’m hearin is that it was selfish. I’m not gonna sugar coat it for ya love. You don’t know what he woulda said, how do ya think he’s feelin’ right now?”

It felt like cotton was stuffed in your mouth and throat, drying in realization of what you’ve done.. even in the worst case scenario you would never imagine Laios to be a horrid person, it was unfair to think that of him.

You knew he would look for you. You knew how heartbroken he must’ve been..

She was right, it was selfish.. but how could you repent for this? It was done. You were gone from his life and even if he did search for you, it wasn’t like he was going to find you.

Even if he did manage to pass through, he wouldn’t recognize you..

Pulling the hood over your head and clutching it over your ears, you sighed and listened to the woman beside you talk.

“Make sure you’re not late for dinner, sorry for the lecture. Just hate seein’ someone in pain.”

She got up and walked away, leaving you to sulk in the emotions and thoughts.

—

The party had been walking for what seemed like ages, their feet tired and bodies heavy from the week long trek. The dog seemed to have no issue, even trying to forego breaks and sleeping at night!

Sitting at the top of a large hill that overlooked a quaint town, they decided they’d set up camp before traversing the rough terrain below them.

Their dog barked and whined, pulling at the lead Laios tied to a strong tree.

“How does it even breathe with its nose pressed on the ground?”

Chilchuck grimaced, wiping the dogs face of the dirt as Falin readied a bowl of food and water for it.

“It’s a working dog, it probably expects a big reward for finishing its task.”

She smiled, putting down the bowls and watching the dog hesitate before scarfing it down.

“Wish I was that motivated for a damn snack..”

Falin lightly laughed at the man’s words, sitting down beside her brother as he looked over the town in thought.

Laios wasn’t his usual self, he was quiet and almost pensive the whole journey. Everyone had expected some sort of change but this made them uneasy to say the least- he was even more determined than the dog! It was only when the group lectured him (and the dog) that he needed to rest did he relent somewhat.

Pulling out a map, he crossed out another town that they’d just passed through without a sign of you.

“What’s the next town? I hope there’s an inn..”

The elf sighed wistfully, dreaming of a warm bed and a good bath. She looked over the blondes shoulder, seeing where he was reading

“The next town is —! There should be an inn.. and since we didn’t spend all too much getting here we could probably stay there..”

Chilchuck felt himself pale..

“Isn’t that the place with the huge tiefling guild?”

Marcille perked up, double checking the area and the name

“Yes! It is! Oh we should stop there-“

“For what?!”

“They have all sorts of magic that I’ve not been able to study for.. reasons but it will be a great opportunity for my dungeon research!”

Laios furrowed his brows. Tieflings? He’s never seen one in person and never really thought about them..

“Tieflings? What magic would they have?”

Before Marcille could inform him, Chilchuck piped up immediately

“Do you really not know?! They’re all necromancers!”

Marcille smacked the half-foots head,

“They are not! Many are just normal in their magic practices- dead magic is strictly forbidden amongst almost all guilds!”

The two of them argued, Laios was fascinated nonetheless but he still ended up thinking about you.. if you died would he be able to ask them for help?

“Just because the only known Tieflings were necromancers and created the magic doesn’t make them all one! That’s ignorant to say!”

“That’s all I need to know!”

The two of them went at it for quite some time, until eventually cooling off and walking away from eachother.

After eating, they drew straws for nightwatch. Even if they were in safe territories and could sleep peacefully without being ransacked or attacked by monsters; somebody needed to keep the dog occupied. It truly was a stubborn dog.

Laios took the first watch. He sat down by the dog, running his fingers through the soft fur on its back.

Why would you leave? With the quiet and just him alone.. tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn’t understand it.. what exactly happened? What could have been so bad that you’d leave him with nothing but a letter? It worried him sick aside from being absolutely heartbroken..

The dog quieted down, laying its head on his lap and staring up at him in hopes to comfort him.. he smiled softly and wiped away his tears.

He had always wanted to get a dog with you, growing up with them he absolutely adored them and in his perfect vision of your future it would be you, him, Falin, and a dog or two. It hurt that he only got a dog in these circumstances.

—

The town was already busy, even with it just passing the morning sunrise there were people scurrying between shops, door chimes filled the air, and loud chattering busied the groups thoughts.

Their dog started barking.

It began to pull harshly on the lead, wheezing as it practically choked itself of air. The barks weren’t the typical “let’s go!” But more of a viscous sound, like an alert.

“Dog doesn’t like tieflings, eh?”

Laios looked over, seeing a man chuckling lightly at the dog.

“It’s typical from what I’ve heard, somethin’ about the devils sets them off.”

Marcille rolled her eyes, beckoning the male to move along. It was odd behaviour he had to admit but would dogs really have an innate ability to dislike a group like that? He wasn’t all too sure..

The deeper they got into the city, they started to see them.

Long ears, tails, pointed teeth, horns..

Some had typical skin tones, others were grey, red, and other washed out pale colours but stood out nonetheless.. chilchuck slotted himself in the middle of everyone as if he was walking between three protective walls. Marcille on the other hand seemed giddy, already chatting up a storm with a pair that sat outside..

The others had noticed they’d ended up right infront of the tiefling guild, before Chilchuck could protest anything, the dog started to howl.

It made the new friends Marcille found herself, flinch and excuse themselves.

“Hey! Quiet down..”

Laios spoke down to the dog, trying to keep it close to him but it continued to stand on its hind legs to howl and cry. He apologized profusely to the people who moved away, not really sure what he could do to calm the dog.

The guild buildings front door opened and a hooded figure came out, quick to turn away and walk the way they faced. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something made him gravitate towards the person.

Something about the build and way they walked looked familiar but he dismissed it.. but

The dog got loose.

It had jumped and flipped itself around just right to slip out of its collar- the group stood in shock for a moment before screaming and running after the dog.

—

“There’s a dog outside, I’d avoid it if ya can. Can’t say it would do anythin’ but some people train their dogs to attack us.”

You were warned, pulling your hood up over your head. What a weird thing to do.. but you heard the dog and commotion outside, even seeing two of the other residents come in and complain about the dog.

“-and we were having such a good chat with a cute elf girl!”

Elf? Elves weren’t common to see around these parts from what you’d gathered, never seeing one in the time you’ve been here despite seeing essentially all other groups of people.

Patting yourself down, you said a quick goodbye to the head member.

Slinking out of the door, you saw the dog in the corner of your eye and made way to avoid it. Preoccupied with your thoughts and list of what you had to do, you didn’t hear the people behind you start to holler about a loose dog.

That’s when you felt a bite on your tail.

Pain curled up your spine before you whipped around and saw the dog, it then jumped on you and placed its front paws on your abdomen trying to stop you.

“Go on! Get!”

It only gave a dopey head tilt to you before howling.

“Ah! I’m so sorry! It slipped out of its collar and-“

It was Laios.

The two of you made eye contact, ignoring the dog happily circling around you and sitting down proudly- giving one more bark of “I found you!”..

It was like a standoff, you felt the blood drain from your face and stomach start to churn as his gaze shook while looking at you.

“Y/n? Is.. is that you?”

Your throat felt dry, no words coming but your mouth was left slightly agape.. he found you. How did he find you? You took a quick glance behind him and saw Chilchuck, Marcille, and Falin.

They’d all come for you?

The feeling in your chest dropped like a bad of sand and you spun around and took off, much to the protests of Laios who quickly left the dog with his friends and told them to wait.

You ran around the corner, quick on your feet to escape a confrontation.

He wasn’t supposed to find you! Yeah he could have searched and looked for as long as he wanted but you never expected him to find you!

“Y/n! Wait!”

Air was leaving your lungs quickly, you needed to find an escape but with a final turn you found yourself at a dead end in an alleyway.

“Dammit!”

The sound of Laios skidding on his feet behind you made sure to let you know that you were caught.

A feeling of dread filled every cavity in your body, anxious vibrations and chattering in your teeth while his steps got closer.

“Don’t come any closer!”

You hunched over yourself, pulling your hood down further to cover your ears and face.

“So.. it is you?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I said no.. would you?”

Laios felt his heart break, the cracking in your voice and the way your body shook broke him inside; he’d never seen you this distraught.. he scanned over your cowering figure, first noticing the tail that tucked itself under your legs and the faint silhouette of horns on top of your head.. but he smiled softly to himself.

It was you, and you were still alive.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, flinching away and trying to get up and run but he caught you quickly. Wrapping you in his arms tightly despite you thrashing and trying to get out of his grip.

“Let me go! Please! I don’t want you to see me like this!”

He listened to you sob and scream, letting you scratch his skin and almost tears his clothes; all he could focus on was the warmth he held from you, the familiar sensation of you in his arms calmed his once ever growing nerves even in such a moment.

You were in his arms, breathing and safe. That’s all he knew and all he needed for now.

“Laios Touden! Let me go!”

“No, not until you tell me why you left.”

You stopped thrashing around at his words.. with your lax body he hugged you properly and rubbed his face into your shoulder. The tears wetting your cape and shoulder.

“Did you.. did you leave because you wanted to?”

Your breathe hitched, of course not. You never intended to leave him but.. the change..

“I left because I..”

Sighing softly, you tried to pull away again but his grip only tightened with his own soft shaky breathe.

“Can you let me go for just a moment? I won’t run..”

He hesitated, his arms tensing and he squeezed you before he reluctantly pulled away but kept himself close to you.

Reaching up, you raised your head and took off the hood.

Laios’ eyes widened, looking at your horns first, seeing the way your ears had changed and the other new features you’d gained..

“This. This is why I left.. I can’t imagine that you’d still love me-“

“But you’re still.. you, right?”

He grabbed your hands into his, inspecting the long claw like nails.. lacing his fingers with his own with a soft smile on his lips.

You were still you, nothing inside had changed.. it was all exterior as far as you knew. Biting your lip, the tip of one of your canines peeked out and tears welled in your eyes.

“I don’t know.. why are you looking at me like that?”

Laios had seemed like he was hyper focused and already in his own world.. he was still Laios.. you weren’t sure if it was curious disgust or if he was still surprised to see you like this..

“Laios..? Stop gawking at me! Please say something!”

“Can you uh, can you open your mouth?”

Blinking, you went to speak but before words could come up he already had a hand pushing softly on your upper lip.

“Fangs? That’s.. hot!”

You blushed, pulling your face away from his hand. Why wasn’t he saying anything else about you leaving?!

“What are you saying?! Aren’t you scared?! Disgusted? Just tell me what you feel so I can leave! So you can carry on with your life!”

He flinched, not used to you screaming at him.

“What do you mean?”

His puppy eyes watered, hurt that you’d scream at him and a familiar guilt burned at you.

“What do I mean?! Look at me! I left you, don’t you feel any hatred towards me?!”

He shook his head, once again grabbing both your hands in his.

“I could never hate you. I came looking for you because I love you and don’t want to continue without you.”

The man’s voice wavered, a realization seemingly hit him.

“.. do you hate me?”

He suddenly dropped your hands, for once during the whole interaction he took a step back. Without any thought you quickly wrapped your arms around him to keep him from going further.

“No! I don’t hate you! It’s because of me changing that I left and I just thought that you’d be better off without me like this!”

His tight grip on your waist returned, he leaned his forehead on yours.

“I could never be any better off without you. Never.”

You watched his lip quiver, his eyes shut but you saw tears appearing on his lashes..

“I’m.. I’m sorry. I’m sorry Laios..”

He breathed in, opening his eyes to look into yours.

“Is it okay if I kiss you? Or.. do you still want me to leave you alone.. are you happier here?”

Your heart thrummed in your chest, you planted your lips on his and the two of you desperately exchanged kisses. A bite at your lip made you open your mouth and he took claim immediately, you felt him lick along your new fangs. Pushing onto him he backed away and let you explore his mouth, nipping at his lip and leaving a faint scratch- just enough to draw blood. He winced and you pulled away.

He was flushed red, a faint dot of blood on his lips.

“Are you okay?”

Poking out his tongue, he licked the blood off his lip with a smile.

“Never better… come home with me, Y/n”

You wanted to cry.

He still wanted you, despite everything he still travelled and searched for you- the same love in his eyes from all those years still vibrant and glowing. You nodded, before the two of you left the dead end he gave you a much needed confirming hug. Making sure to nuzzle himself into your neck, feeling your skin against his was a much needed relief.. he was happy.

Laios would never think any less of you, his view of you would never change- so long as you allowed him to be, he would be by your side. He hoped it would be forever.

[bleue-flora]

[original post]

@marshymashers hope it's okay to respond to you in a post, my answer was getting too long, so here we are. :)

First off, Tubbo isn't autistic. He has stated on multiple occasions [clip] [clip] that he isn't and it is none of our business to question him or diagnose him. That is incredibly disrespectful to Tubbo and anyone actually diagnosed with autism. He has stated that all the way back in 2022 that he is not, so please refrain from going around diagnosing people in real life and spreading false information. It is none of our business what diagnosis someone does or does not have unless they want to come forward and tell us.

Yes, Tubbo is dyslexic, as am I, which does mean he is neurodivergent, however dyslexia and autism are not the same.

According to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH): "Autism spectrum disorder is a neurological and developmental disorder that affects how people interact with others, communicate, learn, and behave." [link]

According to the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development (NIH): "Some of the most common learning disabilities are the following: Dyslexia. People with dyslexia have problems with reading words accurately and with ease (sometimes called “fluency”) and may have a hard time spelling, understanding sentences, and recognizing words they already know." [link]

In my post, notice I am not talking about neurodivergence as a whole, but specifically autism and the effect it has on communication and behavior. I also did not and have not said that autism excuses behavior nor is any type of shield to be used to paint Dream as innocent. Again, my point here was not about the wrongdoings, but about the communication I have seen over the past few days that speaks to a pattern that I have experienced over and over for 20 years that only after my diagnosis and people willing to hear me out as a result has subsided. I am talking about a 3 hour stream where Tubbo and Dream repeated the same things to each other over and over and couldn't seem to understand each other no matter how many times they said it. That is what I am talking about. Because I believe not that autism should be used as a shield but as a lens to view the situation more clearly.

All I'm saying is if people went into the discussion with the mindset that this could be a moment of autism misunderstanding not malicious or manipulative intent, then it would be more productive. Instead over and over the assumption is that Dream has ill intent so everything that is rumored and hinted at or said is viewed under that lens.

For example, it is a very common characteristic of an autistic person (or person with adhd) to mix up names. So, on one hand, people could see Dream calling Tubbo "Tommy" multiple times in that stream as Dream not seeing them as separate people and only seeing Tubbo as Tommy's best friend, and using Tubbo as a way to talk to Tommy, or whatever. But in reality, I can say with absolute certainty that Dream just screwed up the names on accident, as is common place for autistic people. There was no ill intent behind it in the slightest, it was simply an accident. That's all. Do you see the difference? By constantly viewing Dream under a lens of malicious intention we are mistaking what could just be a more innocent moment of autistic difference for wrongdoing. And all I'm saying is that until people give Dream the benefit of the doubt or grace that it could be an autism miscommunication, things will never resolve or change.

And yes, execution is at the end of the day the result and it doesn't matter whether you meant to hurt someone or not, you still did. But knowing intention is the difference between Dream being an imperfect autistic guy versus a movie villain. And whether rumors about him should be taken at face value to be true or whether we should give Dream the benefit of the doubt first.

In addition, if we don't take into consideration that Dream sees a situation differently because he's autistic and therefore an explanation of his wrongdoing may not make sense to him, then we are going to just assume he isn't taking accountabilty when in fact, he really just doesn't understand. In the same way, that Tubbo doesn't understand his reasoning.

For example, with the perception that Dream and his friends are misongynistic and sexist:

Tubbo's reasoning:

there are multiple accusations you haven't refuted of you calling a woman a whore + you singled out Aimsey and Hannahrose in your stream + you disrespected Caiti in that situation by getting involved and sending hateful fans after her + downplayed your involvement and the situation's point by not including it in your vid => you are sexist and misongynistic and need to clean up your act with how you treat woman.

Dream's reasoning:

there are multiple accusations you don't refute of you calling a woman a whore there is one accusation that I don't remember but don't want to call someone a liar, from awhile ago when I used whore more in my joking slang with my close friends + you singled out Aimsey and Hannahrose in your stream in my stream I mentioned many creators, including Aimsey and Hannahrose, to highlight my points about rumors, misconceptions and mispeaking + you disrespected Caiti in that situation by getteing involved and sending hate after her I provided information as I was a witness of a situation involving my best friend + downplayed your involvement and the situation's point by not including it in your vid I didn't include it in the video as Tommy didn't call me out for doing something in it and the situation is George's and Caiti's to discuss not mine => you are sexist and misgynistic and need to clean up your act with how you treat woman contrary to Tommy's statement I am not sexist or misogynistic, nor are my friends as there is no proof.

I don't think Dream is trying to dodge accountability, because (unlike some creators) over and over we have seen him own up, apologize and admit he was wrong or out of line and try to make things right in a reasonable manner. He has proven that he can and does take accountability, in this instance he just simply doesn't see why he needs to as he doesn't follow Tubbo's train of thought and reaches a different conclusion, in the same way Tubbo isn't following Dream's train of thought... anyways I really hope that makes sense or clears things up for at least someone lol. :)

[asterafroditis]

Hi, could I request Silver with a platonic know-it-all reader? Like they're blunt and always getting on everybody's nerves by flexing their knowledge on others and nobody really knows why Silver puts up with them, but he's always like "wow, that was really informative :)" whenever they talk and they genuinely enjoy his company. Sorry if this is an odd request!

𐔌 . ⋮ quiet understanding .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Platonic Silver x yapper gn! reader

𓏵 910 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 2nd Person POV, they/them pronouns used, fluff

teehee, I definitely had fun writing this, hope it caters to your request! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

If there was one thing people knew about you, it was that you knew things. A lot of things. About history, science, magic theory, ancient spell formations—sometimes even completely random trivia that had no relevance to anyone's life. And you made sure people knew that you knew.

"Actually, that's incorrect," you’d interject, arms crossed as you interrupted yet another conversation in the Diasomnia common room. "The proper incantation for that spell dates back to the late Sorcerer's Era, not the early one. If you used that variation, you'd end up setting your own robes on fire."

Sebek groaned loudly, turning on his heel with a scowl. "No one asked for your input!"

"Yeah, but you'd have burned your eyebrows off. You're welcome."

Lilia only chuckled, amused as always, but the rest of the students? Not so much. You had a habit of inserting your knowledge into every discussion, and it wasn’t exactly winning you many friends. Some people saw you as insufferable, others as a walking encyclopedia that never knew when to shut up.

But if there was one person who never seemed annoyed by you, it was Silver.

"That was really informative," he said as he blinked at you, entirely sincere. "I didn’t know that spell variation had such a history."

You smirked, satisfied. "Of course. Most people just assume the modern version is correct, but they don’t consider how—"

"Are you seriously encouraging them, Silver?!" Sebek cut in, looking completely exasperated. "They never stop talking as it is!"

Silver only tilted his head, clearly not understanding why that was an issue. "I think it's nice. They know a lot of useful things."

"Exactly," you agreed smugly, nudging Silver's arm. "At least someone appreciates my genius."

Sebek let out a long-suffering groan and stomped away while you turned back to Silver, pleased as ever.

And that was how it always went. While most people avoided you when you got too deep into an explanation, Silver never brushed you off. He never mocked you, never got irritated—he just listened, nodding along even when your tangents stretched far longer than necessary. He even asked follow-up questions sometimes, which was practically an invitation for you to keep going.

You liked that about him.

One day, as you sat under a tree with Silver during a break, you glanced at him curiously. "You never get tired of me talking your ear off, do you?"

Silver looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. "No. You always have something interesting to say. And I like learning new things."

You blinked. "...Huh."

That was… unexpected. But nice.

A breeze rustled through the trees, and you hesitated before adding, "Most people think I’m just annoying."

Silver closed his eyes, considering your words. Then, with the same calm sincerity he always carried, he said, "They're missing out, then."

You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "Well, obviously." You leaned back against the tree, folding your arms. "I mean, I know things no one else does. If people don’t want to listen, that's their loss."

Silver hummed in agreement, then after a pause, added, "Still, I think it's nice to have someone who enjoys talking. I spend a lot of time in silence."

You thought about that for a moment. Most people probably assumed he was just a quiet guy, but considering how often he drifted off to sleep, maybe he was just too tired to talk much. If that was the case… maybe he liked having someone around who could carry the conversation.

A moment of silence passed between you before Silver spoke again. "You mentioned something about knight traditions earlier," he said, tilting his head slightly. "Can you tell me more about that?"

Your eyes lit up. "Oh, absolutely! Did you know that in ancient knightly orders, squires would have to recite the entire code of chivalry before they could even touch a sword? It wasn’t just about combat—they had to memorize historical texts, strategy guides, even poetry."

Silver’s lips quirked upward slightly. "I see. I think my father would have liked that tradition."

You paused, momentarily caught off guard. "Huh. Yeah, I guess he would’ve. You probably would’ve excelled at it, too."

Silver blinked at you, mildly surprised. "You think so?"

"Of course," you scoffed. "You're basically already a knight. Just missing the fancy title and dramatic cape."

He chuckled softly. "That’s… nice to hear."

You huffed, nudging his shoulder. "Well, don’t get too cocky about it. I still know more history than you."

Silver smiled faintly. "I don’t mind. That just means I can learn more from you."

For once, you found yourself at a loss for words.

It was easy to brush off other people’s irritation toward you, easy to act like you didn’t care whether they appreciated your knowledge or not. But Silver—he listened. He valued what you had to say. And in a world where people were constantly rolling their eyes or sighing in exasperation at you, that meant more than you wanted to admit.

So, with a quiet hum, you settled in beside him, watching the leaves rustle overhead.

"Alright," you said eventually, voice softer than usual. "I’ll tell you about the old knight tournaments next. You’ll like this one."

Silver nodded, his expression relaxed and content. "I’m listening."

And for once, you felt like someone truly was.