#intellectually fascinating I'm sure

[ardri-na-bpiteog]

I guess at least it has to be a fascinating time to be a political scientist/international relations academic.

[smile-files]

there's nobody nerdier than an archeologist... except for a jewish archeologist

[britneyshakespeare]

Man is saying weird things to me again

[eroticcannibal]

I'm still fascinated by the anti-sex people I saw on reddit and still so mad they wouldn't actually explain their stance to me like yes I disagree but I want to understand the specifics about like. What *exactly* is it about having sex that *requires* you dehumanise your partner. Why is this unavoidable. How does it work. What is making that happen. And instead they're just like "but your comment history says you were raped surely you should understand that sex is bad if you were raped" NO ENGAGE WITH MY QUESTION AHHHH I WANT TO PICKLE YOUR BRAINS PLEASE ENGAGE IN INTELLECTUAL FUCKERY WITH ME IM BEGGING

[other-lxxahazel]

could you do smth with y/n being oblivious to Alastor trying to court them but oddly enough y/n becomes fascinated with his shadows and he uses it to impress them 0^0 if not its okay ignore this, make sure to stay healthy!

✎ I'll take this request as part two of Oblivion because it's like it can be connected to it 😭 many are already asking for part two that's why I'm so FREAKING thankful to this anon for giving me an idea! (I want to add friend you so freaking bad Anon 😭😭)

╰┈➤ Oblivion (2)

The apple tarts, once baked, vanished with alarming speed, a testament to your baking prowess and the hotel residents' enduring sweet tooth. Alastor, to his internal chagrin, had even taken a bite, his smile fixed and unwavering as he offered a polite, if strained, compliment on its "fascinating texture." He'd endured it, savored the proximity you’d offered, yet the fundamental problem remained: your utterly impenetrable obliviousness. He’d orchestrated an entire baking charade, suffered the cloying scent of sugar, and still, you saw him merely as an enthusiastic, if clumsy, culinary student. The thought was enough to make his static crackle with a frustrated snarl.

He was Alastor, the Radio Demon, a being whose will was absolute, yet here he was, reduced to elaborate theatricals for the sole purpose of making a single, delightful soul realize he harbored an unprecedented, maddening affection for her. It was… undignified. It was infuriating. He found himself pacing his radio tower, the air thick with his mounting annoyance, the usual jazz music occasionally interrupted by sharp bursts of feedback. He knew, intellectually, that he was becoming desperate. A sliver of his rational mind screamed at him to simply state his intentions, to assert his claim as he would with any other territory or soul. But then, there was the matter of Pride.

His pride, sharp and unyielding as a freshly honed blade, forbade such a direct confession. To admit weakness, to lay bare such a vulnerable emotion, was anathema to his very being. He was the one who controlled, who manipulated, who held all the cards. To confess would be to surrender a piece of that control, to expose a facet of himself he’d spent eons burying. And then there was the dreadful, horrifying possibility of… rejection. The thought sent a jolt of ice through him, quickly masked by a furious burst of static. No, directness was out of the question. He had to maintain the illusion of casual interest, of detached amusement, even as his internal world churned with unfamiliar longing.

He observed you constantly, a silent, ever-present specter. He’d watch you reading, sketching, even simply tidying up the hotel’s often-chaotic common areas. He noted the way your eyes would light up when you spoke of your hobbies, the gentle curve of your smile when you were lost in thought. And it was during one such observation that he noticed something else, something peculiar and, to his surprise, potentially useful.

You were sitting by a sunbeam filtering through a grimy window, sketching in a worn notebook. His own shadow, always hovering near him, stretched across the floor, partially obscuring the light from your paper. Instead of being annoyed, you simply paused, tilting your head. Then, with a slow, almost curious movement, you reached out and gently, tentatively, petted the amorphous mass of his shadow. You stroked it like one might stroke a particularly docile pet, your fingers ghosting over the darkness. His shadow, a sentient extension of his will, rippled in response, a silent hum of surprise echoing in Alastor’s mind. You smiled, a soft, content expression, and then went back to your drawing, occasionally reaching out to absentmindedly stroke the shadow again.

A nefarious, yet brilliant, idea sparked in Alastor’s mind. He couldn't express vulnerability, or perform overtly affectionate gestures himself. It went against every fiber of his being, every carefully constructed façade of the ruthless Radio Demon. But his shadow… his shadow was another matter entirely. His shadow was an extension, yes, but also a separate entity, something he could command to do things he would never deign to do. It was the perfect scapegoat, the ideal intermediary. He could project his desires, his desperate yearning for affection, onto his shadow, and should you ever question it, he could simply blame the erratic nature of the demonic entity. Brilliant.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The next day, Alastor put his plan into action. He found you in the dining room, attempting to untangle a particularly stubborn knot in a long piece of decorative ribbon for some hotel event. You muttered under your breath, utterly absorbed. Alastor stepped into the room, his form casting a long, distinct shadow. He commanded it, silently, mentally: Engage.

His shadow rippled, detaching slightly from his feet, and flowed across the floor towards you like dark ink. You looked up, startled, but then your eyes widened in fascination as the shadow, instead of merely resting, began to shift. It lengthened, then narrowed into a slender, almost finger-like appendage. It reached out, hovered over the ribbon, and with surprising gentleness, began to prod and manipulate the knot. Its movements were fluid, almost delicate, a stark contrast to Alastor’s usual forceful precision. You watched, captivated, as the shadow patiently worked, subtly pulling here, nudging there, until with a final, almost imperceptible flick, the knot loosened and unraveled.

"Oh, wow!" you breathed, eyes wide. "Thank you, Alastor's shadow! That was amazing!" You leaned down, your fingers reaching out to lightly tap the shadow's 'surface' in appreciation.

Alastor felt a strange, almost physical thrum in his chest as you praised his shadow. He stood stiffly, a detached smile on his face, but internally, he was preening. He offered a noncommittal chuckle. "Ah, yes, my shadow can be… quite resourceful when it wishes to be. Always surprising me, that one." He infused his voice with a feigned annoyance, as if the shadow's helpfulness was an unexpected burden.

Over the next few days, the shadow became his primary instrument of "covert" affection. You had a messy strand of hair falling into your eyes while you worked? Alastor would appear, and his shadow would deftly lift the strand, tucking it behind your ear with a softness that he would never directly exhibit. You'd instinctively lean into the gentle touch, humming contentedly. Alastor, meanwhile, would simply observe, his internal monologue a chaotic blend of triumph and a strange, unfamiliar yearning. Yes, my dear, feel the gentle touch. This is what I long to give you, had my nature not been so… direct.

One particularly chilly evening, as you shivered slightly in the surprisingly drafty lounge, Alastor entered. Before you could even voice a complaint, his shadow stretched out, swirling around your shoulders like a living shawl, seemingly radiating a subtle warmth. You gasped, then giggled, snuggling into the inexplicable comfort. "Oh, Alastor's shadow, you're so cozy!" you murmured, your hand reaching up to pat the shadowy "fabric" wrapped around you.

Alastor felt a pang, sharp and unwelcome. He stood a few feet away, poker-faced, but his mind screamed. She's patting my shadow! She's comfortable with my shadow! She's getting warm from my shadow! He wanted to be the one providing the warmth, the comfort. He wanted your touch, your soft murmurs directed at him. But he couldn’t. His pride, his carefully constructed persona, forbade it. So he merely chuckled, a dry, radio-static laden sound. "Indeed. Quite the… obliging companion, isn't it?"

The shadow, however, seemed to revel in your attention. Alastor often found it stretching towards you of its own accord, almost as if sensing his unspoken commands, performing small acts of service or comfort. It would hold objects for you, shield your eyes from sudden flashes of light, or even, once, untangle a particularly stubborn shoelace while Alastor watched, a rigid smile plastered on his face, a growing sense of disquiet swirling within him.

You, meanwhile, had grown genuinely fond of Alastor's shadow. You spoke to it, thanked it, and sometimes, when you thought no one was looking, you'd reach out and gently stroke its form, as if petting a cherished companion. You'd even given it a silly little nickname: "Shady."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The "Shady" nickname grated on Alastor's nerves more than he cared to admit. It implied a familiarity, an almost intimacy, that you withheld from him. Yet, he persevered, instructing his shadow to perform increasingly complex and oddly tender acts.

One morning, you were humming a forgotten tune as you meticulously watered the hotel’s potted plants – some of which still occasionally tried to bite. A particularly thorny vine snagged on your sleeve, threatening to tear the fabric. Before you could react, Alastor’s shadow darted out. Instead of simply pulling it free, the shadow gently, almost coaxingly, untangled the tendril, its dark form shifting to mimic the delicate movements of fingers. It then lingered, its 'hand' briefly brushing yours before retracting. You looked up, a soft smile on your face. "Oh, Shady, you're so careful! Thank you." You leaned down and patted the shadow's surface, a gesture that made Alastor's internal static buzz with a frustrated mix of triumph and agony.

Another time, during one of Charlie's overly enthusiastic, yet ultimately ineffective, "team-building exercises," you found yourself awkwardly trying to balance a stack of wobbly, oddly-shaped demonic board game pieces. Just as they threatened to topple, Alastor’s shadow flowed around you, acting as an impromptu brace, holding the pieces steady until you could secure them. You glanced at Alastor, who merely offered his usual wide grin, but then turned back to the shadow. "You're always there when I need you, aren't you, Shady?" you murmured, a genuine fondness in your voice. Alastor felt a sharp, unwelcome stab in his chest. I am always there. I am the one orchestrating this!

He even commanded his shadow to do things that hinted at a softer, more protective nature he actively suppressed. If you coughed, the shadow would manifest a tiny, ethereal cup, seeming to offer a silent drink. If you sighed in exasperation, it would gently pat your arm. These were acts of pure, unadulterated solicitude, gestures Alastor would never permit himself to display openly. He watched, always watched, hoping to see a spark of recognition, a flicker of something more than just casual appreciation in your eyes. But you remained, frustratingly, adorably, oblivious. You simply took these acts as quirky, endearing traits of Alastor's unusual companion, attributing them to the shadow’s own, seemingly independent, personality.

This increasing personification of his shadow by you was becoming a serious problem. You’d chat with it, sometimes even confide in it about your day, treating it less like a sentient extension of a powerful demon and more like a quiet, comforting friend. You found joy in its silent presence, its helpfulness, its uncanny ability to anticipate your needs. Alastor heard these soft conversations, watched these gentle interactions, and felt a burning resentment blossom within him. It was getting harder to maintain his facade of detached amusement.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

This was where Alastor’s brilliant plan began to unravel. The thing he thought could be his unassailable advantage slowly, insidiously, became his torment. He found himself being jealous. Jealous of his own shadow.

The jealousy was a foreign, noxious emotion, coiling in his gut like a venomous snake. He, the Radio Demon, a being of immense power and cold ambition, was jealous of an extension of his own being. It was absurd. It was humiliating. And yet, there it was, burning hot and inescapable every time you offered his shadow a gentle touch, a fond word, a quiet smile that you never quite gave him with the same unreserved affection.

He yearned for what his shadow was earning from you. He yearned for your hand to rest on his arm, not merely brush against it. He yearned for your genuine, unguarded smile to be directed solely at him, not the amorphous dark shape he controlled. He yearned for you to lean into his presence, to find comfort and warmth in his proximity, not just his commanded reflection.

One afternoon, you were struggling to reach a particularly ancient, heavy tome on a high shelf in the hotel’s ridiculously tall library. Alastor appeared, as if on cue, his staff resting lightly against his shoulder. His shadow immediately extended, gracefully plucking the book down and placing it gently into your hands.

"Oh, Shady, you're the best!" you exclaimed, laughing softly as you patted the shadow, which rippled contentedly under your touch. "So much more helpful than Alastor sometimes!" You glanced at him and winked playfully, completely missing the flicker of something sharp in his crimson eyes. "No offense, Alastor!"

Alastor’s smile wavered, a barely perceptible twitch. No offense? No offense?! His shadow had just performed a task that he could have done with a snap of his fingers, a gesture that was meant to showcase his protective nature, and his own shadow was getting the credit, and worse, your playful affection. A low, almost inaudible growl rumbled in his chest, quickly covered by a cheerful burst of static. "None taken, my dear," he managed, though his grip on his staff tightened imperceptibly, his knuckles turning white beneath the red glove. His shadow, sensing his sudden, intense irritation, shrunk back slightly, as if attempting to placate its furious master.

The situation was getting… annoying. Beyond annoying. It was maddening. He had created the perfect shield for his pride, but in doing so, he had created a rival, a rival that was literally a part of him. He found himself resentful of his shadow’s successes, even though those successes were entirely by his own command. He wanted to snatch your hand away from it, to demand your attention be solely on him. He wanted to banish the damn shadow to the darkest corners of Hell if it meant getting your unadulterated affection.

He began subtly withdrawing the shadow, making it less readily available. He’d make it appear only briefly, perform its commanded task, and then retract it quickly, hoping you’d start to seek him out for help. But you, in your characteristic obliviousness, simply thought the shadow was busy, or perhaps just having an "off day," or that it was being "shy."

"Is Shady feeling alright?" you once asked him, your brow furrowed with genuine concern as his shadow flickered erratically before vanishing mid-gesture. "It seemed a bit… tired lately."

Alastor nearly choked on his internal scream. Tired? His shadow? It was an extension of his very being, powered by his own demonic energy! He was just trying to subtly redirect your adoration! "Perfectly fine, my dear. Perhaps it merely needed a moment of… quietude," he replied, his smile stretched thin, betraying none of the furious maelstrom churning within him.

The internal conflict raged. His pride demanded he maintain distance, his fear of vulnerability screamed against confession, but his burgeoning, desperate love for you yearned for connection. And his shadow, the very tool he'd designed to bridge that gap, had become a frustrating, affectionate barrier in itself. He wanted to feel your soft touch, to hear your affectionate words, not have them filtered through a demonic extension of himself.

As time passed, the thing he thought could be his advantage became not. He felt a burning jealousy every time your attention strayed to his shadow, every time you spoke to it with a familiarity you hadn't quite yet granted him. He found himself yearning for what his shadow was earning from her. He was Alastor, for crying out loud! The Radio Demon! He didn't yearn for anything, let alone affection from a mere soul, let alone affection his own shadow was monopolizing! It was getting… Annoying. And somewhere, deep within the tangled, unyielding fortress of his pride, Alastor knew, with a terrifying certainty, that his next move would have to be far more direct, far more perilous to his carefully constructed façade. Because if this continued, he might just find himself strangling his own shadow.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Alastor’s frustration simmered, a low, constant crackle beneath his usually composed façade. The jealousy, a bitter, acidic taste he found utterly repulsive, intensified with every affectionate murmur you directed at his shadow. He was the Radio Demon, for crying out loud! The very idea that his own extension, a mere projection of his will, was garnering more genuine, unguarded affection from you than he, the master behind it all, was almost unbearable. He found himself fantasizing about sending his shadow on permanent "vacation" to some desolate, lightless corner of Hell, just to see if your attention would, by sheer force of habit, finally gravitate towards him.

His pride, usually his unbreakable shield, felt like a brittle shell, cracking under the relentless pressure of this ridiculous, unprecedented emotion. To confess overtly was still out of the question – it reeked of weakness, of vulnerability, of a desperate plea for something that should simply be. Yet, the subtle machinations, the calculated displays of chivalry via his shadow, had clearly failed. You remained charmingly, maddeningly dense. He was trapped in a self-made purgatory of unexpressed affection, tormented by the success of his own proxy.

One sweltering afternoon, the hotel's antiquated air conditioning finally sputtered its last breath, sending a wave of oppressive heat through the building. Charlie, ever the delegator, had tasked everyone with finding solutions. You, ever resourceful, decided the best course was to try and clear out some of the dust and demonic cobwebs that had accumulated in the higher, usually ignored vents in the grand ballroom.

Alastor found you there, perched precariously on a rickety, ancient ladder, armed with a feather duster and a determined expression. The ballroom was unusually quiet, most residents having fled to cooler, shadier corners of the hotel. He watched, a faint hum of static building in his ears, as you stretched, reaching for a particularly stubborn patch of grime near the ceiling. The ladder wobbled ominously.

"My dear," Alastor drawled, stepping into the room, his voice sharp with a sudden, uncharacteristic edge of alarm. "Perhaps a sturdier apparatus would be… advisable?"

You giggled, not looking down. "Oh, this old thing's fine, Alastor! Just gotta lean into it." You stretched higher, a bead of sweat trickling down your temple. "Almost got it!"

But the ladder groaned, a splintering sound echoing through the cavernous room. Your eyes widened as it began to tilt violently, slowly, inevitably. Before you could even cry out, before your own reflexes could kick in, Alastor moved.

It wasn't a shadow’s gentle nudge this time. It was instinct, raw and unthinking, overriding centuries of careful detachment. In a flash of crimson, Alastor was there. His staff clattered forgotten to the floor. His large, gloved hands shot out, not to simply steady the ladder, but to catch you. He seized your waist, pulling you off the teetering contraption with a sudden, powerful yank, bringing you crashing against his chest.

You gasped, the air knocked from your lungs, your feather duster falling unheeded to the floor. Your face was pressed against the crisp fabric of his coat, the unsettlingly fast beat of a heart you hadn’t known he possessed thrumming against your ear. Your hands instinctively flattened against his chest, seeking balance.

"Are you quite alright, my dear?" Alastor's voice was devoid of its usual cheerful radio filter, stripped bare of all artifice. It was rough, urgent, laced with a genuine concern that made the hair on your arms stand on end. His crimson eyes, usually so amused and calculating, were wide, dilated, and filled with an intensity you had never witnessed. They bore into yours, devoid of his usual smile, showing a flash of pure, raw fear that was completely, utterly un-Alastor.

For the first time, in that suffocatingly close moment, pressed against his rigid form, the scent of brimstone and something uniquely him filling your senses, you saw it. The genuine alarm in his eyes. The way his hands, still gripping your waist with surprising tenderness, were trembling ever so slightly. The rapid thrum of his pulse beneath your palm. This wasn't the detached Alastor who joked about cannibalism. This wasn't the Alastor whose shadow lent a helping hand. This was him. Exposed. Vulnerable. And utterly, terrifyingly, worried about you.

His shadow, which had darted out the moment the ladder tilted, now hovered nearby, not intervening, but watching, almost with a knowing stillness. It seemed to have faded slightly, its edges less defined, as if its master's direct, unthinking action had momentarily usurped its role.

The silence in the ballroom stretched, broken only by the distant sounds of the hotel and the surprisingly loud thumping of Alastor’s heart. Your eyes, wide with a sudden, blinding realization, slowly drifted from his frantic gaze down to his gloved hands still clamped around your waist, then back up to his face.

The gifts. The constant proximity. The possessive stretches of his shadow. The way he always seemed to be there. The subtle brushes. The baking charade. All of it, every single confounding action, suddenly clicked into place with the sickening force of a falling domino. He wasn't being friendly. He wasn't being peculiar. He was… he was trying to court you. He was showing affection. And you, in your blissful, impenetrable ignorance, had missed every single sign.

Your cheeks flushed a deep, mortified crimson. Not from embarrassment about the fall, but from the horrifying realization of your own monumental obliviousness. And then, a new, exhilarating warmth spread through you, a feeling that had nothing to do with Hell's oppressive heat.

Alastor, sensing the shift in your gaze, the sudden change in your breath, slowly became aware of how intimately he was holding you. His eyes, though still intense, regained a sliver of their usual cunning. The moment of raw emotion, of unguarded vulnerability, had passed. His smile began to return, slowly, almost imperceptibly, stretching across his face, trying to rebuild the mask of nonchalance.

He loosened his grip slightly, though he did not fully release you. "Forgive my… abruptness, my dear," he purred, his radio filter returning, albeit with a faint, trembling undertone. "But one simply cannot allow such a delightful resident to suffer an unfortunate tumble. It would simply not do." He attempted a jaunty chuckle, but it sounded a little forced, a little strained.

You, however, were no longer listening to the words. You were staring at the single vein still throbbing ever so faintly at his temple, a physical manifestation of his barely contained emotion. You were looking at the raw fear that had momentarily consumed his eyes, a fear that was clearly for you.

"Alastor," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes wide with revelation. "You… you like me." It wasn't a question, but a dawning, incredulous statement.

His smile froze. The radio static surrounding him spiked, a harsh, painful screech that reverberated through the ballroom, making the remaining light fixtures flicker erratically. His shadow, which had been observing, suddenly dissolved completely, as if unable to bear the directness of the moment. Alastor’s eyes, now back to their usual, unnervingly focused red, bore into yours. He had been caught. His carefully constructed wall of pride and control had just been breached by a single, simple, blindingly obvious statement.

A long, excruciating silence descended, broken only by the crackle of Alastor’s own internal turmoil. His facade was crumbling, and he knew it. There was no retreat, no witty deflection, no blaming the shadow now.

He cleared his throat, his smile wavering for the first time you had ever seen. He tightened his grip on your waist just for a fraction of a second, a small, possessive gesture that felt less like an accident and more like a silent, desperate confession. His voice, when it came, was lower, deeper than usual, completely devoid of its cheerful filter, barely above a murmur.

"My dear," Alastor said, his crimson eyes holding yours, an uncharacteristic sincerity bleeding through their depths. "It seems… that is no longer a secret, is it?"

And in that moment, as the realization solidified into an undeniable truth, and the Radio Demon stood before you, stripped of his usual theatricality, you knew everything had irrevocably changed. The era of oblivion was finally, wonderfully, over. And the dizzying dance of whatever came next had just begun.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

✎ It's end y'all 😭 but idk if you send good ideas i may continue it UwU

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Gideon's plan to getting Spencer a date

Pairing : Spencer Reid x Male reader Tags : Fluff, Social awkward Reid, Getting a date Word count: 1041

The roar of the jet engines was a dull hum compared to the internal cacophony in Spencer Reid’s mind. The San Diego case, the horror of “The Tommy Killer,” was thankfully behind them. But the aftermath always lingered, a shadow that clung to the edges of his thoughts. He was also a year older, his birthday a mere blip in the chaos of their work– until now.

Gideon cleared his throat, drawing Reid’s attention. "Happy belated, spencer." He held out a small, rectangular envelope. 

Curiosity piqued despite the weight of the case, Reid carefully opened the envelope. Inside were two tickets. Two tickets to see the Washington Redskins play. Reid blinked. Football? He knew the basics, of course, had absorbed the statistics and strategies over the years through sheer proximity to Morgan and, surprisingly, Y/N..

Y/N, who was currently locked in a spirited debate with Morgan a few seats away. Y/N, whose enthusiasm for the Redskins was legendary within the BAU. Y/N, who made Reid’s palms sweat and his vocabulary shrink to a fraction of its normal size.

“I’m just saying, Morgan, their defence is going to be a huge problem for the Cowboys this season,” Y/N argued, gesturing emphatically. “Their linebacker core is completely revamped! You’re underestimating them!”

“Underestimating? Y/N, come on, you know I respect the Redskins," Morgan retorted, a playful glint in his eye. “But the Cowboys offense is going to tear them apart. Romo’s got a cannon, and Witten's always open.”

Y/N scoffed, a playful smile tugging at their lips. "Cannon? Romo chokes under pressure, Morgan, you know this. Witten’s good, I’ll give you that, but our safety’s got him covered this time."

The back-and-forth continued, a familiar and comforting sound amidst the tension of the case. Reid found himself watching Y/N, captivated as always. Y/N’s mind was a whirlwind of ideas, opinions, and observations, a constant storm of intellectual energy that both intimidated and fascinated him. He loved the way Y/N’s eyes sparkled when He were truly engaged in a discussion, the way his hands moved as he spoke, the sheer force of his personality.

Morgan, feigning exhaustion, leaned back in his seat. "Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I concede. For now. But I'm taking a nap. Wake me up when we land." He yawned dramatically, closing his eyes.

A triumphant grin spread across Y/N’s face. “Victory is mine!”

As Morgan settled into a nap, Gideon gave Reid a subtle nod, a silent encouragement. Reid swallowed hard, the tickets suddenly feeling like lead weights in his hand. He knew what Gideon was implying. He just didn’t know if he could actually do it. He knew very well that Y/N probably didn't see him in a romantic light at all..

Taking a deep breath, Reid rose from his seat and walked towards the now-empty seat beside Y/N. The closer he got, the faster his heart pounded. He could feel the heat rising in his face, a sure sign of his rising anxiety.

"Hey, Y/N," he managed, his voice a little higher than usual.

Y/N looked up, His expression softening from playful competitiveness to genuine warmth. "Hey Spence! What's up?"

Reid felt his throat constrict. This was it. Time to put himself out there. He opened his mouth, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. He cleared his throat, tried again. “So,” he began, fiddling with the tickets in his hand, “Gideon, uh, he gave me… these.” He held out the tickets, almost as if they were fragile artifacts.

Y/N’s eyes widened as He focused on the tickets. "Redskins? No way! Are those…?"

Reid nodded, feeling a surge of relief that Y/N seemed genuinely excited. "Yeah. He got them for me. For my birthday."

"That's awesome! You're a Redskins fan?" Y/N asked, their enthusiasm infectious.

Reid hesitated. "Well, not exactly. I mean, I know about them. I know their players, their… their strategies. I just… I haven't really been to a game before."

Y/N’s smile widened. "Seriously? You've never been to a Redskins game? You're missing out! It's an experience." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Wait a minute… Gideon got you Redskins tickets? That seems oddly specific."

Reid felt his cheeks flush again. He was terrible at lying. "He, uh… Wants  me to… experience new things?" It sounded weak, even to his own ears.

Y/N chuckled, clearly seeing through his flimsy excuse. "Right. 'Experiencing new things.' Sure. Well, either way, those are awesome tickets. You gonna go?"

This was his chance. The opening he needed. He took another deep breath, trying to ignore the frantic beating of his heart. “I was wondering,” he stammered, “if maybe… if you’d want to go with me?”

The words hung in the air, thick with unspoken meaning. Reid braced himself for rejection, for the polite excuse, for the uncomfortable silence.

Y/N’s expression softened, a thoughtful look crossing his face. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting Reid's. He tried to read his expression, but it was impossible.

Finally, He smiled. A genuine, warm smile that made Reid’s heart skip a beat. “I would love to, Spence. Are you kidding? I’d love to go.”

Relief washed over Spencer in a tidal wave. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “Really? That’s… that’s great.”

“Yeah, it is! It’ll be fun. We can grab some stadium food, yell at the refs, and I can finally explain to you why the zone blitz is the single greatest defensive strategy in the history of football.”

Reid chuckled, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “I look forward to it.” He paused, then added, “And maybe… after the game, we could grab some dinner? Or something?”

Y/N’s smile widened. “Sounds like a plan, spence.”

The rest of the flight passed in a blur. As the jet began its descent, Gideon turned to Reid, a knowing smile on his face. "So," he said quietly, "did you ask him?"

Reid nodded, unable to suppress the grin that spread across his face. "He said yes."

Gideon chuckled. "Good. Sometimes, Kid, all you need is a little push."

[ozzgin]

Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^

I love me my morally grey wizard ;)

I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)

Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons

Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior

It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).

Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.

Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.

You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.

Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.

After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 ( 𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 !! )

𝟭. improve your writing skills ( ✒️ )

i feel that not everyone has the perception of how important it is to know how to write. you don't have to be a poet, nor the new emily brontë, but fluid, conscious, rich writing makes the difference. really. you could write a page without saying anything at all, but if that damn page is written good and smoothly, then you can be sure that you will get extra points. take the time to improve your writing skills, the best advice i have for doing so is reading. read as much as you can. read novels (non-fiction in this case doesn't help because the content is preferred rather than the form), read contemporary authors – you don't necessarily have to read sophocles' tragedies, but read quality stuff. expand your vocabulary, your knowledge of syntax, learn to use punctuation! and then write, tell stories, write love letters, write reviews of films, books, cultural festivals, open a blog on tumblr and write to practice, reread what you write ad nauseam, until it is perfect, until the form of your essay is pulitzer prize worthy.

bonus some of my favourite authors (tell me in the comments about yours!): ian mcewan, banana yoshimoto, haruki murakami, george orwell, josé saramago, albert camus, khaled hosseini, hanya yanagihara

𝟮. develop critical thinking ( 💭 )

if you have always studied passively by absorbing information and vomiting it onto a test sheet then you have wasted your time. taking on information is not enough, you need to know how to rework it and develop your own idea about it. especially in the arts and literature one may disagree with certain information provided by a textbook. developing critical thinking is not easy, especially due to the school system that teaches us to standardize thinking. always consult all available sources on a given topic, compare them, analyze contradictions. it might be difficult and tiring – our brain spends more energy processing two conflicting pieces of information than processing two pieces of information that agree – but it will be worth it. by practicing critical thinking and improving your argumentation skills, you will not only be able to improve in your studies, becoming able to present complex topics and make interdisciplinary connections, but also in daily life, you will become much less influenced and manipulated by external information.

𝟯. find yourself an interest ( 🌷 )

it could be anything, but find an interest that excites you and you enjoy and do research about it. watch videos, documentaries, read articles. it doesn't have to be school-related, it must be an external topic that you are passionate about and that allows you to rediscover the joy of studying and learning every time school seems to suffocate it. sometimes i'm not in the mood to study for exams, so i dedicate myself to my personal research and finally find my spark, my seek for knowledge. for example, my interest is true crime, it has always fascinated me since i was little, but yours could be wild animals, makeup, comics, ships, planes, ocean flora, literally anything. there is no constraint.

𝟰. analyze your mistakes and recognize your wrongs ( 🫒 )

there is no shame in making mistakes. everyone makes mistakes, we are human, but the real sin is getting bogged down in mistakes, refusing to acknowledge them, and continuing to make them again and again. we should be continually growing, continually discovering ourselves, both intellectually and emotionally. how many of you were the "gifted kid" when you were little and then grew up into burned out high school / uni students desperately seeking academic validation? there comes a time when talent isn't enough, you have to put in the effort, and this doesn't make you less intelligent or gifted, in fact, quite the opposite. dedicating time and attention to your personal and intellectual growth also means having to ruminate on your mistakes. it's scary, but it's the most effective way if you really want to improve. take a notebook and at the end of the day reflect on the highlights and the wrongs, what you could have done better, where you would like to push forward tomorrow, what you achieved today. did you make a mistake? first ask yourself why and then look for a way to solve the problem, make every bad moment a lesson, a brick on which to build the version of you you wanto to become tomorrow.

𝟱. don't be afraid of doing researches ( 🧃 )

the amount of fake news and misinformation online is appalling. opening any app like tiktok or instagram we are inundated with information that is often (not always, but not so rarely) inaccurate. don't be afraid to conduct your own research, if you have time to mindlessly scroll through tiktok you will also have five minutes to read an article regarding that information provided. don't know the meaning of a word? look it up before using it. not sure about a piece of information? check it before using it in your argumentation. in the age of immediate access to data we have no excuse to be superficial.

𝟲. master communication ( ♟️ )

mastering communication is essential in both personal and professional realms. it's the cornerstone of building meaningful relationships, whether it's conveying ideas effectively in academia or fostering connections in the workplace. developing strong communication skills not only enhances your ability to articulate thoughts but also empowers you to listen actively, empathize with others, and resolve conflicts constructively. ultimately, honing these skills cultivates confidence, credibility, and success in all aspects of life.

𝟳. push yourself out of your comfort zone ( 🧸 )

build your confidence. confidence is uncomfortable. don't be afraid of it. you are young, this is the right time to experiment, take risks, discover who you really are. this is the best time for you to do those things that you would otherwise never do, you don't want to regret later in life that you didn't accept that scholarship, that trip abroad, that job opportunity, because you didn't feel comfortable enough. do things that take you out of your comfort zone until everything becomes your comfort zone. go on solo dates, be a social butterfly, tell the girl at the bookstore you love her t-shirt, go to the theater alone, eat at a restaurant alone, take that trip. if it goes badly, you'll only have one funny story to tell.

𝟴. stay informed about the news (but not too much!) ( 🌍 )

this might be controversial, but: stay informed about the news, just don't overdo it. personally, i am an easily influenced person and i realized that being constantly exposed to the bad things happening in the world had drained me and made me terribly depressed. don't get me wrong, you need to be informed about what's happening in the world and in your country, just being constantly surrounded by horrible news repeated ad nauseam on TV programs is of no use. be aware.

[aventurineswife]

Yo yo, do you think you could write hcs about a gn reader who has very sensitive skin who is dating Ratio? I feel like Ratio would love quality time with his lover, and baths together would be one avenue. But what would he do to work around reader’s skin issues? (I have to use special body wash and lotion after bathing otherwise I will literally never stop the itch rip)

Your Skin, My Careful Study

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Domesticity, Established Relationship, Thoughtful Partner, Protective Ratio, Skincare & Self-Care, Sensitive Skin Accommodations, Bath Time, Gentle Affection, Intellectual Romance.

Warnings: Just soft, caring Ratio being incredibly attentive and meticulous about your comfort 🫶💜

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that anon 😭🙏 it must be a struggle

Ratio is incredibly detail-oriented, so the moment he learns about your sensitive skin, he researches extensively. He won’t just look up generic solutions—he'll analyze dermatological studies, consult experts, and maybe even develop his own custom regimen for you.

Since he enjoys baths with you, he ensures that the water temperature is just right and only uses the most soothing, hypoallergenic bath products. He even experiments with making his own bath oils infused with gentle, natural ingredients. If he discovers a formula that works well for you, he considers patenting it—just for fun.

Any clothing or bedding he buys for you must pass his “skin test.” If it’s not ultra-soft, breathable, and non-irritating, he won’t allow it near you. He'll special-order silk sheets and make sure your towels feel like clouds. He’d definitely brag about how your comfort is a top-tier priority.

Ratio enjoys the intimacy of helping you with skincare. If applying lotion or soothing balms is necessary, he does it himself with steady, careful hands, taking his time as if he's conducting a delicate experiment. You’ll catch a soft, almost smug smile when he sees how much better your skin feels afterward.

If anyone dismisses your skin sensitivity, Ratio immediately shuts them down with cold, cutting precision. He has zero patience for ignorance and will lecture them until they regret speaking. He’d also subtly shield you from anything that might irritate your skin—whether that means steering you away from strong perfumes or ensuring no rough materials touch you.

If extreme temperatures trigger flare-ups, Ratio devises a plan. He ensures the environment around you is always optimal—whether it's adjusting room humidity, carrying a cooling gel pack, or having custom-tailored clothing for different seasons. If you ever get too warm or too cold, he fixes it before you even have to say anything.

Since he adores wisdom and academia, Ratio turns self-care into a ritual. He'll light gentle, non-irritating candles, put on calming classical music, and wrap you in the softest robe. He may even wear his alabaster mask, joking that he’s your personal guardian of skin health.

He won’t always outright say he worries about your skin, but you'll find neatly organized lists of recommended products, ingredient breakdowns, and skincare guides subtly left in places you'll find them. If you ever tease him about it, he’ll feign indifference—though the faint smirk gives him away.

While enjoying baths together, he casually analyzes the way your skin reacts to different conditions. “Hmm… so your skin prefers lukewarm water over warm. Fascinating.” It’s half-joking, half-genuine curiosity. If you splash water at him in retaliation, he’ll chuckle and retaliate—gently, of course.

While Ratio has a sharp, analytical mind, he softens when it comes to you. If your skin ever gets irritated, he never makes you feel like a burden. Instead, he methodically helps soothe the discomfort, as if it’s the most natural thing in the universe. And when your skin feels good? He subtly admires you more, brushing his fingers over yours with an unspoken sense of pride.

[kolyasupremanxy]

What do you think would be some non sexual turn ons for Dazai, Fyodor, Chuuya and Nikolai?

—Non-sexual turn ons

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲, 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff ( ? )

𝐀/𝐧: I'm back after 5 months 😭 I'm sorry

— Dazai Osamu

Headcanons: Dazai Osamu's Non-Sexual Turn Ons

• Intelligence

Dazai is attracted to individuals who possess sharp minds and quick wit. He finds intellectual conversations stimulating and enjoys engaging with someone who can match his intelligence. The way you effortlessly navigate complex topics and challenge his ideas with your own well-thought arguments leaves him intrigued and craving more of your stimulating conversations.

• Dark Humor

Dazai has a twisted sense of humor, and he appreciates someone who can understand and appreciate his morbid jokes. A dark and witty sense of humor can easily catch his attention. The way you effortlessly match his dark humor and make him burst into laughter with your clever remarks and twisted jokes is something he finds incredibly alluring.

• Independence

Dazai finds independent individuals incredibly attractive. He admires those who can stand on their own and have a strong sense of self. Someone who doesn't rely on others for validation or support is likely to pique his interest. Your self-assured nature and the way you confidently navigate through life, unafraid to march to the beat of your own drum, is something that captivates him.

• Confidence

Confidence is key when it comes to catching Dazai's attention. He finds it alluring when someone is sure of themselves and isn't afraid to take charge. A person who exudes self-assurance is likely to grab his attention. The way you carry yourself with grace and poise, radiating confidence in every step, is something that leaves Dazai captivated and yearning to unravel more of your intriguing layers.

• Unconventional Thinking

Dazai is drawn to those who think outside the box and challenge societal norms. He finds individuals who have unique perspectives and aren't afraid to question the status quo intriguing and captivating. The way you effortlessly challenge conventional ideas and bring a fresh perspective to every discussion is something that fascinates Dazai, making him want to delve deeper into your mind and unravel the mysteries within.

• Mysterious Persona

Dazai is naturally attracted to people who have an air of mystery surrounding them. He enjoys unraveling their secrets and getting to know them on a deeper level. A person with an enigmatic aura is bound to intrigue him. The way you carry yourself with an air of mystery, leaving him wondering about the depths of your thoughts and experiences, is something that drives Dazai to unravel the layers of your enigmatic persona.

• Compassion

Despite his playful nature, Dazai appreciates individuals who show genuine kindness and compassion towards others. Someone who cares for others and goes out of their way to help those in need is likely to capture his attention. The way you extend compassion to those around you, selflessly lending a helping hand and showing genuine care, is something that melts Dazai's heart and makes him fall even harder for you.

• Adventure and Thrill-Seeking

Dazai enjoys living life on the edge and is attracted to those who share his love for adventure. Whether it's trying out new experiences or seeking adrenaline rushes, someone who can keep up with his adventurous spirit is sure to catch his eye. The way you fearlessly embrace the unknown, always seeking new thrills and adventures, is something that ignites Dazai's own adventurous spirit, making him want to join you on every daring escapade.

• Aesthetic Appreciation

Dazai has an eye for beauty, whether it's in art, nature, or everyday objects. He is drawn to individuals who appreciate and have an eye for aesthetics. Someone who can appreciate the little details and find beauty in the mundane is likely to intrigue him. The way you effortlessly find beauty in the simplest of things, appreciating the aesthetics and the artistry in everything around you, is something that captivates Dazai's artistic soul, making him see the world through a new lens.

• Unpredictability

Dazai is easily bored and craves excitement. He finds individuals who are unpredictable and can keep him on his toes incredibly captivating. Someone who brings an element of surprise and spontaneity to his life is bound to grab his attention. The way you effortlessly keep him guessing, never falling into a predictable pattern and always surprising him with unexpected twists, leaves Dazai craving for more of your exhilarating presence in his life.

—Fyodor Dostoevsky

• Unpredictability

Fyodor is naturally drawn to individuals who possess an element of unpredictability. He finds it exhilarating when you surprises him with their actions or choices, making it difficult for him to anticipate their next move. Your ability to keep Fyodor on his toes adds an exciting edge to their dynamic, keeping him constantly intrigued and captivated.

• Confidence

Fyodor is undeniably attracted to confident individuals. He is particularly drawn to Your self-assurance and assertiveness. Their unwavering belief in themselves and their abilities is a quality that Fyodor greatly admires. Your confidence serves as a powerful magnet, captivating his attention and keeping him intrigued.

• Dark Humor

Fyodor has a twisted and sinister sense of humor, and he finds it incredibly appealing when you shares your affinity for dark humor. Their ability to appreciate and engage in morbid jokes or sarcastic banter creates a unique bond between them. Your compatibility in this aspect allows Fyodor to truly connect with them on a deeper level, making them even more enticing.

• Attention to Detail

Fyodor has an eye for detail, and he finds it incredibly attractive when you shares this trait. Their ability to notice even the smallest nuances in their surroundings or in Fyodor's behavior impresses him. Your keen observation skills and attention to detail make them stand out in his eyes, adding an extra layer of fascination to their relationship.

• Intimacy with Darkness

Fyodor is no stranger to the dark and sinister side of life, and he is drawn to individuals who can embrace and understand that part of him. Your comfort and intimacy with the darker aspects of their own nature intrigue Fyodor immensely. Their ability to navigate the shadows with ease creates a deep connection between them, intensifying the magnetic pull he feels towards them.

• Mysterious Past: Fyodor is naturally curious and attracted to individuals with mysterious pasts. He finds himself irresistibly drawn to Y/n's enigmatic history, wanting to unravel the secrets and untold stories that lie within them. The air of mystery surrounding Y/n only adds to their allure in Fyodor's eyes, making him all the more determined to uncover their hidden depths.

—Nakahara Chuuya

• Intelligence

Chuuya has a soft spot for intelligent individuals. He values intellectual conversations and enjoys the challenge of matching wits with someone who can hold their ground in a battle of wits. He admires those who can outsmart him and isn't afraid to engage in mind games.

• Independence

Chuuya finds independence attractive. He respects individuals who can stand on their own and don't rely on others for validation or support. He appreciates self-sufficiency and values those who can handle themselves in any situation.

• Confidence

Confidence is key when it comes to catching Chuuya 's attention. He is drawn to individuals who exude self-assurance and carry themselves with a certain level of poise. He finds it captivating when someone knows their worth and isn't afraid to show it.

• Determination

Chuuya respects individuals who have a strong sense of determination and drive. He admires those who are willing to fight for what they believe in, even in the face of adversity. Their perseverance and unwavering spirit resonate with him on a deep level.

• Wit and Banter

Chuuya enjoys engaging in witty banter and sarcastic exchanges. He appreciates a sharp sense of humor and enjoys a good verbal spar. If someone can match his quick wit and keep him on his toes with their comebacks, Chuuya finds it both amusing and attractive.

• Loyalty

Despite his trust issues, Chuuya values loyalty above all else. He admires individuals who stay true to their principles and stand by their friends and loved ones. Loyalty earns his respect and makes him more inclined to open up and form a deeper connection.

• Strength

Chuuya is naturally drawn to strength. He appreciates individuals who can hold their own in a fight, but also those who possess inner strength and resilience. Their ability to endure and overcome challenges impresses him.

• Style

Chuuya has an eye for fashion and appreciates individuals who have their own unique sense of style. He finds it attractive when someone takes pride in their appearance and carries themselves with confidence. A well-dressed individual catches his attention and piques his interest.

• Emotional Depth: Despite his own guarded nature, Chuya is intrigued by individuals who exhibit emotional depth. He is drawn to those who are able to express their emotions authentically and are not afraid to show vulnerability. Their ability to connect on a deeper emotional level resonates with him.

—Nikolai Gogol

• Dark Humor

Nikolai has a twisted sense of humor, finding amusement in the darker aspects of life. He is captivated by those who can match his wit and appreciate his morbid jokes, relishing in the shared laughter over macabre topics.

• Intellectual Stimulation

As much as Nikolai enjoys his playful and theatrical personality, he also craves intellectual stimulation. He is attracted to individuals who can engage him in deep and thought-provoking conversations, challenging his mind and expanding his horizons.

• Unpredictability

Nikolai is drawn to individuals who possess an air of unpredictability, those who keep him on his toes and challenge his quick-witted nature. Whether it's through their actions, words, or even their mannerisms, he finds excitement in the element of surprise.

• Confidence:

Nikolai finds confidence to be an irresistible trait. He is attracted to individuals who exude self-assurance, as it showcases independence and a certain level of fearlessness that aligns with his own nature. The boldness and poise of someone who knows their worth is a definite turn-on for him.

• Artistic Expression

Being a lover of all things dramatic and theatrical, Nikolai is drawn to those who possess artistic talents. Whether it's through painting, writing, or any other form of creative expression, he finds beauty in individuals who can channel their emotions and thoughts into their craft.

• Mysterious Aura

Nikolai is naturally curious, and he is intrigued by individuals with a mysterious aura. He is captivated by enigmatic personalities who keep their cards close to their chest, always leaving him guessing and yearning to uncover their hidden depths.

• Unconventional Thinking

Nikolai has a tendency to see the world through a unique lens, and he finds individuals who think outside the box to be incredibly attractive. He is enamored by those who challenge societal norms and embrace unconventional ideas, appreciating their ability to break free from the chains of conformity.

• Playfulness

Despite his sadistic tendencies, Nikolai has a childlike joy within him. He is drawn to individuals who possess a playful nature, those who can engage in lighthearted banter and bring out his mischievous side. Their ability to embrace their inner child and find delight in simple pleasures is something he finds incredibly appealing.

• Passion

Nikolai is captivated by passionate individuals who pour their heart and soul into their pursuits. Whether it's a personal hobby or a grand ambition, he finds the fire within them to be incredibly alluring. Their drive and dedication ignite his own passion and inspire him to reach for greater heights.

• Love for Freedom

As someone who cherishes the freedom he finds in the skies, Nikolai is attracted to individuals who share his love for freedom. Whether it's a thirst for adventure or a desire for independence, he finds solace in those who understand the yearning to break free from the chains of society, just like the birds he adores.

[bitter-me]

Hello!!Haha, I'm very glad that you liked my idea with Argenti! I don't want to impose too much, but I have so many ideas! For example, I have this idea - A reader from the Genius Society who is very interested in Doctor Ratio.

Again, if you are not interested, you don’t have to do it!

-Anon 🌾

A Waste of Talent

Dr. Veritas Ratio | M. Reader as X [Reverse: 1999]

----------

Are you sure you're not a mind reader? I swear I was working on this while making that Argenti one. Where are the cameras?? Did we met before??

----------

The Genius Society is known for many things. Their intelligence, their ambitions, their determination.

Accomplishing things beyond mere humans.

And yet... There is always one odd duckling in every group..

.

.

What a waste of talent...

That is the first thing Dr. Ratio thought when he met [Name].

This man.. this researcher... this brilliant, and intelligent researcher...

Why is he even doing this?! He could be so much more and yet he continues to lay around, doing aimless research, and making useless inventions!

Why?! Why would he waste that genius brain of his?!

"Honestly," He stated, his voice shaking with fury, "You should be ashamed of yourself."

He took a deep breath to try and control himself, but the heat of his anger still burned hotly within him.

"You are squandering a once-in-a-generation opportunity to become an intellectual powerhouse," Dr. Ratio continued, his voice dripping with frustration. "What a shame."

The researcher in question merely smiles at the other's reaction as his eyes drift to the clipboard in his hand. To be honest.. he doesn't care. He doesn't care how he's "not using his full potential" in fact, he's quite happy with what he's doing now. Even if some people branded his inventions as "useless."

Plus...

Dr. Ratio's reactions are always a sight he loves to see~ the confusion mixed with frustration. What a sight to see on a man whose intelligence could rival a member of the Genius Society. [Name] had always found Dr. Ratio to be an intriguing man and even with those harsh words being directed towards him, [Name] still found him to be a fascinating individual.

Getting a reaction out of him had also become a "hobby" of his. Just those clever, witty comebacks and with how expressive he is? It's always a joy to mess with him~

Which lead to their current predicament...

Ever since [Name] became interested with Dr. Ratio, he had made the doctor his personal tester for his inventions and oh... how wonderful those days have been~ the way he gets so worked up with every invention, saying that the Genius is wasting their talent.

Making Dr. Ratio test his inventions had easily became the highlight of his day~

"Are you done talking now? Alright.. shall we proceed with the testing?"

"So... you're next research is about... fried chicken?" Dr. Ratio asked, reading the papers as his gaze darted to the invention once in a while. This can't be real... how come this genius ever think of such a thing? He could be working on some life changing invention or discovery! Why is he dedicating an invention regarding fried chicken?!

"The inspiration came from the explosion.. introducing: The Breadcrumb Spraying Dispenser." The researcher stated as he took the papers from Dr. Ratio and began flipping through them. "An invention which will bring the flavor of your food to a significant level."

"Care to test it for me?'

....That's his inspiration into making this..? This.. thing?

"An explosion inspired you to make this? What explosion?"

"The one back at Herta's Space Station."

.

.

.

.

The day that the Genius Society decided to have their little meet up. [Name] never would have thought that Dr. Ratio is also at the Space Station.

At first, [Name] didn't think much of it. That is... until the whole Annihilation Gang thing happened..

As a kind person he is, he decided to lend them his help not only that, as a fellow Genius Society member he can't let danger arise in Herta's Space Station

.

.

"Go, go! Retreat!"

"Damn... get that ship moving!"

How... interesting..

It's not everyday that the Space Station is being raided like this, especially not from the Annihilation Gang. He thought they were more of a "rush in and kill everyone" type of organization. Who would have thought they have more in mind than to kill him...

[Name] let out a yawn as he casually sat in one of the hidden rooms of the facility as if the whole place isn't being raided or trampled upon by unwanted guests.

"So... the target of the Annihilation Gang is the space ship? But they only sent a bunch of dummies who can hardly accomplish anything." He chuckles in amusement as he continues to eavesdrop on their conversation. It's common for Space Stations to have ships and pods, especially for one as big as Herta's.

"Take all the supplies, the flower and everything! Don't forget the coffee beans!"

"Huh?" [Name] blurred out without thinking.

Standing up from his sitting position, he burst open the door. "Stop right there. You brutal criminals." He said casually as he put a finger gun on the side of his head and did a "fire" motion.

Taken aback by the sudden involvement, the group stood there in shock. Just who is this guy?

"Why don't you listen to the smart guy here, give up your plan and leave. Okay?" He continues, taking a seat at one of the desks as he begins making a cup of coffee on the machine next to him like it's a regular Tuesday.

"What..?"

"This is a gliding ship powered by Arcanum. To start it up... the whole Space Station's electric will be cut off for 5 hours." He explains casually as he made a latte art on his coffee.

Getting fed up with him, one of them pointed their weapon on the side of the scientist's head. "I don't care what you have to do, get this thing moving!"

[Name] merely chuckles in response. "Alright.. at your service.."

"Let the butterfly flap its wings and bring us the hurricane we need.."

BOOM!!

"The ship exploded?! What have you done?!"

"It's just another way to activate it, now say.. thank you, butterfly.." He smiles as he takes a sip of his coffee.

Just because he makes "useless inventions" doesn't mean he doesn't have a trick up his sleeve. Sometimes... [Name] took great advantage of their ignorance..

And Dr. Ratio... is one he takes delight in~

[averalia]

Between Pages and Kisses

| Pairing: Spencer Reid x Black!Fem!Reader

| Summary: A quiet afternoon in Spencer's apartment leads to comfortable silence, shared moments, and tender confessions, all under the soft glow of the late afternoon sun.

| Warnings: N/A

| A/N: This scene focuses on the gentle, loving dynamic between Spencer and the reader, highlighting their shared comfort and affection.

The late afternoon sun, filtered through the blinds, cast long, striped shadows across Spencer's living room. You were curled on the sofa, a book resting unread on your lap, watching him. He was at his overflowing bookshelf, brow furrowed in concentration, muttering to himself as he re-arranged a section of his first editions. The silence was comfortable, punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional satisfied hum from Spencer.

You loved these quiet moments with him. The world outside could be chaotic, loud, and often terrifying, but in Spencer’s apartment, with Spencer himself, there was a profound sense of peace. He was different from anyone you’d ever known – brilliant, yes, but also endearingly awkward, fiercely loyal, and possessed of a kindness that shone through his sometimes-blustery intellectual facade.

"Aha!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling out a slim, leather-bound volume with a triumphant grin. "Found it! I knew it was here somewhere." He turned, holding up the book like a trophy. "Did you know that the first edition of 'The Raven' actually had a different dedication than subsequent printings?"

You chuckled, pushing yourself up to a sitting position. "I can't say I did, Dr. Reid. But I'm sure you're about to enlighten me."

He beamed, already making his way over to the sofa, his eyes alight with that particular spark they got when he was about to delve into a fascinating piece of trivia. He settled beside you, carefully placing the book on the coffee table. Instead of immediately launching into his explanation, he reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch was feather-light, sending a shiver of warmth through you.

"You look beautiful in the sunlight," he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

Your cheeks flushed. Despite how long you’d been together, his unvarnished compliments still had the power to make your heart flutter. "You're distracting me from my literary education."

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that always made you smile. "Perhaps I am. But some things are more important than first edition dedications, wouldn't you agree?" His thumb stroked your cheekbone, his gaze unwavering. "Like... this."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative, sweet kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of tenderness, of a quiet devotion that had grown steadily between you. You leaned into him, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. The kiss deepened, becoming more confident, more urgent. It was a silent conversation, a culmination of all the shared glances, the late-night talks, the unwavering support you offered each other.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "I love you," he whispered, the words a soft caress against your lips.

Your heart swelled. You knew how much those words cost him, how carefully he chose them, and how deeply he meant them. "I love you too, Spencer."

He pulled back slightly, but kept you close, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against his side. He picked up the book he’d found, opening it carefully. "Now, about 'The Raven'..."

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder as he began to explain, his voice a comforting murmur in your ear. You weren’t really listening to the intricacies of Poe’s dedications, not entirely. You were listening to the rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body beside yours, the soft brush of his hair against your temple. You were listening to the quiet symphony of your life together, and it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.

[codex-entry]

Sorry I’m not sure if this is an ask you’re able to answer especially publically due to your upcoming haruspex video. But id love to hear what you find so compelling about the Bachelor and Haruspex’s dynamic or maybe something you like about it you didn’t touch on in your video due to not fitting your thesis. I loved your post regarding the “complementary yet opposing forces” and I was especially in love with your add on to the post and the way you talk about them. It was really fascinating to me I’d just love to hear more from you on that if anything at all if possible

One of the biggest things that stood out to me while working on the new script is that, when Artemy comes into their interactions with the warmth and humanity he has when the player's behind the wheel, he and Daniil actually have a great deal of belief in and compassion for each other. They meet on Day 1 and are close peers from beginning to end. There's this consistent lingering sense that they both believe in each other to make things better, to the extent that they'll each do horrid things in the other's name (you kill SO many people for Daniil, including possibly children).

They represent a very specific philosophical conflict; a tension between the reality of the past and the promise of the future. Within that though, it also kind of demands an empathy and patience for both the past and the future.

Daniil's desperate fumbling towards the future leaves him vulnerable to not even realizing the reality of his past or present in a way that feels all too real, but it's hard not feel sympathetic towards that when the past and present are as horrid and flawed as they are. It's why Artemy may (rightly) roast Daniil, but ultimately works closely with him until the very end. Artemy sees Daniil's humanity, so we see it.

On the flipside, Artemy's fixation on the past is pretty strongly implied to be merely setting a foundation for the cycle of all this to repeat again, a cycle that always ends horribly. However, even if it isn't the Utopian future we were promised, it is still a future worth fighting for, which is why Daniil continues to work with Artemy even as he argues endlessly that 'No dude, trust me, the udurgh is DEFINITELY the Polyhedron'. He does increasingly come around to Artemy's supernaturalist worldview in no small part because he learns from Artemy's success and respects him for it, even if he cannot agree with his conclusion.

They aren't built for the world that the other is trying to build, two dolls from two different playsets, they each stand in stark contrast to the other's wants and needs, but both still believe that the other's future is vastly better than annihilation. They might not always like or respect eachother, but they do believe in each other's desire to create a better world. The tragedy of it all is that neither realize the glaringly obvious answer of 'You need both', which is why Clara (rightly) clowns on them.

Add to that the 'You Are The Only Person Alive Who Understands What I'm Going Through' of it all, and the dynamic has endless layers to it. A perfect blend of emotionally and intellectually compelling.

At least that's my read on it, and acts as a nice personal reminder for me to not get too distracted by either the past or the future. One thing at a time~

[worldsetfree]

Aizen Sōsuke in Love headcanons

I'm so happy that Kubo is so careful with my sexy evil king (god?). He seems to value a lot of the things that I value as a writer/consumer. I really feel his love for this character!

Here are a few thoughts of my own on this beautifully complex man, in the context of romance, because I'm powerless against tall, dark, and handsome. Y'all know me.

Feedback and discussion welcome.

Some spice below. I'm slowly building up confidence...

Contrary to the belief of some, I don't think Aizen's an emotionally vacant sociopath. He's just deeply, obsessively measured in all things, including his own image. We often gain insight into his feelings through Gin, in fact!

I think he's secretly deeply emotional, honestly. INTJ, but the T is not as dominant as people think. People don't develop Aizen's level of conviction and dedication without passionate hearts.

And I would expect the wisest of men to not discard their emotions. It's better to know thyself, after all. Aizen strikes me as the type who values internal harmony.

Plus, he's too good at controlling others to be emotionally out-of-tune. He gets people.

To fall in love...

The first question one must ask: "Is Aizen Sōsuke capable of falling in love?" To me, the answer is yes, but like all things, Aizen has carefully crafted designs and constraints for such a scenario.

Despite his apparent patience, people as ambitious as Aizen are prone to feeling urgency. In the ruthless pursuit of his goals, I would not be surprised if he felt he had to deny himself companionship (especially given his implied struggle to connect).

But Sōsuke, you don't have to have your foot on the gas at every step of your journey!

He can take time to find peace in good company in his time as a Captain, or after he gains immortality. Times when he's been forced to slow down and wait for his plans to unfold.

Honestly, he's probably craving some TLC at this point. Isolation in Muken's a horrible thing, even if he enjoys the silence.

You must have done something to spark his interest and make him see you as something more than a peon. Subverted his expectations, or did something foolishly courageous, perhaps.

Either way, he's going to pay close attention to you going forward.

Intellectual jousting jumps out as a good opportunity to catch his attention! Look how he speaks during Fake Kurakura Town, for example. He's got ideals and philosophy bursting at the seams. He wants people to understand him! Get in there!!

In turn, Aizen seeks to understand all things around him, yourself included. Interest blooms into fascination and captivation, and in time, he admits that you've become a problem.

He is not confused by this feeling, but he doesn't really want to fall in love. Imagine opening himself up to something like that... With an insect like you? Preposterous.

Are you truly an insect, though? Or something he's been craving in a deeply repressed part of his soul?

After some deep contemplation, he'll decide to examine this feeling blooming in his chest further.

But if he has to be open and vulnerable to have you, he's going to make damned sure he still has the upper hand.

To be with him...

Loving this man is not for the faint of heart. Aizen Sōsuke is faceted like a jewel, and in being his, you will see all the colour and reflections he projects.

He's a wild, tempestuous sea, and all but the most worthy will drown in him if not careful.

Expect him to test you and experiment in all manner of ways. Some of these tests will be at the expense of your safety and sanity, unfortunately. But were you ever really in any danger...?

He's the type to play with the heart- roll it around in his teeth, and squeeze.

He's testing himself just as much as he's testing you. Feeling out what makes the knots twist up inside him and what makes his heart flutter.

That's not to say that will only toy with you, though. No, if he's chosen to be with you, he's going to love you. He never does things in half measures. This will become especially prevalent as time goes on.

You'll experience beautiful stillness and tenderness- quiet moments locked away from time and responsibility that he dares not share with anybody else. Think of summer rain, tea leaves, and the way his scent clings to his haori.

This peace inspires reflection, but confiding in you is very difficult for him. I think some part of him would fear the rejection. But he's developed a hypothesis, weighed the risks, and chosen to open up to you. You should be honoured.

Don't betray his decision to share. Be genuine and gentle, and you'll be rewarded with another piece of his ever-elusive heart.

On the flip side, you'll also end up lost in currents that threaten to rip you apart.

Aizen's quite mercurial, and part of being in love means seeing a bit of the mess below the surface (at least, what he allows you to see).

Making you swoon is simple for him, and he'll thoroughly enjoy leaving you breathless. He's going to work you up meticulously with perfect touches and addicting lips, and then leave you craving more.

He's masterful in all things he attempts, and he will prove that acts of hedonism are no exception. Should he deign to indulge in intimacy, he will be your undoing.

Sex is not a successful endeavour for Sōsuke unless you're rendered unable to think. He's going to delight in leaving you ruined in his bed, legs and lungs and consciousness having utterly failed you.

He'll cherish every sound and sight he steals from you. Allow himself to dwell on the taste of your skin, the warmth of your insides wrapped around him, and the feeling your thighs in his hands. You're heavenly to him. A work of art.

To some extent, it will dismantle him, too. He finds succor in the space between your breaths, and strangely welcome surrender in release.

If you catch him in the right headspace, he'll stay with you in his afterglow and succumb to gentle affection. His arms will pull you in and hold you like he wishes you'd meld into him.

But these moments are rare. He's so very busy and ever-focused on the next objective. But you don't mind, right...?

Overall...

Expect Aizen to be a committed partner that lifts you up and sweeps you off your feet in his own wicked ways.

He's going to challenge you, push and pull you, and enjoy the web you will weave together. You will be his prized possession and confidant. In return, he'll be your everything.

He will also be your tutor, your cultivator. Much like himself, he holds you to the highest standards, and he's not afraid to mould you into (what he considers) the greatest version of yourself.

You will be consort to a god some day, after all. He's going to refine you into something capable of standing at the top with him.

Just don't disappoint him, or you'll find yourself discarded when you least expect it.

Wow, I wrote too much for this. Can't help it. He's got me in his hypnosis. How shameful. 😅

Thanks for reading! Writing these out helps give me a backbone for future works.

[tossawary]

A while back, I had a playthrough of the PS5 "Spider-Man" game going on in the background, and I don't actually remember much from it, but it did do one thing that reeeeeally annoyed me at the time. Although, admittedly, I am not sufficiently familiar with the comics to criticize any of the writing choices with citations.

See, in this game, they had a redheaded love interest for Peter Parker named Mary Jane Watson, BUT this MJ was a journalist. In fact, there were a couple stealth sequences where the player briefly played as journalist MJ investigating some organized crime group.

And I had to stop working to squint at the screen for a while, because I couldn't remember anything about any movie, cartoon, or comic MJ ever doing any work as an investigative journalist. I'd thought that she was a model and actress??? I'd been under the impression that MJ had more of a party girl persona, at least outwardly.

I had to stew on why I disliked this choice, but I concluded that I hated the idea that female characters and their ambitions could be interchangeable. Not all people's personal identities are irreversibly intertwined with their careers, but some definitely are, and for others, career choices are still going to say something about their personality and background.

There are some characters who can job-hop across a wide variety of jobs and it doesn't impact their general characterization much. But there are other characters where I'm like, "If they lost their job, they would have an identity crisis and struggle to shift industries." Someone who is an academically minded scientist is not always going to have an easy transition into a profit-oriented sales job. Someone who likes to fix things with their hands is probably going to dislike switching to a job filling out spreadsheets. Someone who hates kids is probably not going to be a good teacher. Someone who was really professionally ambitious may not adjust well to being a stay-at-home parent, financially dependent on someone else and responsible for the well-being of a helpless little human being. And so on. All for various complicated human reasons.

I don't remember enough about the aforementioned game to be criticizing it specifically here. But generally speaking, I disliked the basic concept that a female character couldn't be interesting and challenging if she had a "shallow" and "feminine" career. I disliked the general concept that MJ could be "improved" as a character by being given a more "serious" / "intellectual" career. I disliked the idea that Peter Parker was REQUIRED to have a redheaded love interest named MJ, as per many preceding comics, but who MJ actually was as a person in terms of hobbies she enjoyed, ambitions she dreamed about, her opinions and fears and messy behaviors, could just be swapped out as if none of that internal richness mattered.

In my very basic knowledge, the "Spider-Man" comics have a wide cast of female characters, some of whom have been journalists or employees of the Daily Bugle! Peter has had MANY love interests over the years! And MJ apparently being "shallow" gave her specific (admittedly often misogynistic) relationship dynamics with other female characters like Gwen, which made MJ stand out as a unique personality. Not all superhero love interests have to be Lois Lane, investigative journalist!

To me, it's a little like making Lois Lane NOT a journalist, and making her into a model and actress instead. Like, you COULD do that. In fact, if you were really willing to put the work in for an AU, I'm sure you could do a fascinating character study about what would have to be different about Lois Lane's life to put her on a wildly different career path. But if there was a "Superman" game and you randomly changed Lois Lane's career without a great reason, you would get tomatoes thrown at you.

This game did have a reason to make MJ into a journalist: she became a source of information to move the plot forward and it briefly made her a playable character. Which is... fine. That's fun, even. I think you could have probably written the story in such a way that actress MJ was involved with something that ended up being a front for organized crime, to achieve similar results, but it is easier in some ways to just make her a journalist, I guess.

And hey, for all I know, this game really did a great adaptation of comics MJ into a journalist; maybe the writing had some really solid AU characterization for her. I do not remember it well enough, but I do remember the writing in other areas of the game being pretty solid. As a standalone character, I didn't think that this game's version of MJ was bad or anything.

But, lacking those citations to study her as am adaptation of the comics character, I still feel a little suspicious and salty about it.

I think this came to mind again because I was thinking about fanfiction AUs which change a character's career, and why they occasionally don't work for me. Sometimes, you take a character who is ordinarily fighting genetically engineered aliens in an apocalyptic wasteland, plop them in a Modern AU, and say, "They're a daycare worker now!" And I might be like, "Yeah, that's exactly where they'd be. That's their happy place. Hell yeah." But with other characters, you do the same thing, and I'm like, "I'm gonna be real, I think this would be this character's personal hell."

[axstoria]

Bruce Wayne realizes that in all his intelligence, in all the warps and twists of the natural world, the one thing he cannot stop is time. He can't stop his little ones from slipping through his fingers like sand.

He respects Dick for who he has grown to become. He's a young man with his own city to protect, the founder of several teams, the "big brother" of young heroes, and an inspiration to all.

However, Bruce still sees the little boy who clung to his legs and hid under his cape. The one who did backflips off banisters and handstands while on the roof talking with Gordon. The one who assured him Barbara wasn't a threat, but an ally when she appeared as Batgirl. The one with stars in his eyes and a vengeance nothing could quell.

His boy's grown up. His first son has left the nest. He doesn't know how to cope with it.

Jason is still his baby in his eyes. He still sees the boy fascinated with everything, reading and learning as much as he could cram into his schedule. The boy who, if given the chance, would drop everything to help someone else. The one who baked with Alfred and would fall asleep in front of the Batcomputer. The one who didn't do patrols on school nights. The one who could have been anything.

He still sees his baby in the tall, wide figure that haunts the streets, securing Crime Alley. He sees the kind spirit and loving heart, even if it is buried under mounds of muscle and fury.

Bruce wishes he could go back and fix his early days with Tim.

He regrets the yelling and screaming, the constant attachment. He hates the way he acted back then, Tim standing in as a parental figure, even though both of them never referred to it as that. He was young, he shouldn't have had to take care of a grown adult.

He wishes he could have nurtured that brilliant mind of his from an early age, aiding the boy instead of allowing him to do it all by himself. He wants to go back and make little Tim feel loved and wanted, wants to adopt him from an earlier age—and, yes, he'd fight the Drakes on it. He loves this boy.

Steph was a mistake that could have easily been avoided.

Had he not been so harsh, and she a little more obedient, then everything could have worked out. She would have stayed Robin for more than 2 months, and everything would have been fine.

He wishes he could go back and tell her, "I'm proud of you," after long patrols. And maybe he wishes he could have adopted her, but to this day, she refuses.

He doesn't push.

Damian hurts his heart.

His own flesh and blood that he didn't even know existed until he was 10. Bruce yearns to turn back the clock and hold the infant his son once was in his arms, wants to hear soft coos and harsh cries, aches to watch his little face relax with sleep.

It kills Bruce to know that this is the one child he could have had that he could have seen grow up from stage 1. He could have seen first steps, first words, first laugh—instead, he was forced to retrain his boy to live a normal life. He had to make sure his baby wasn't forever scarred by what he had left him to go through.

The greatest shock of all to him is that he won't live forever.

One day, there will be no more Batman, no more Bruce Wayne. Some day, people will forget his name and his parents and the work he did. The League's members with a longer lifespan will find someone else to fill the space he leaves behind.

His kids will grow up and have children of their own, and his name will get lost in translation. Some day, people will only know his name by the bricks on buildings with Funded by Bruce Wayne etched on them.

Bruce Wayne—in all his intellectual capability and physical prowess, all his resilience and compassion— cannot stand forever, and he thinks that is the thing that haunts him the most.

So, he forces himself to love life as it is now. He'll call Dick and ask how life is, and bump into Jason at the library, and help Tim with cases, and take Steph shopping, and learn Arabic for Damian.

He'll do everything in his power to make the life he has last.