#it can work. however she also just did that because of her powers

[demie90s]

I Don’t Like Her

Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader

NAVI | MORE | Part 2

Summary: You were chosen for a prestigious Wakandan outreach program for promising youth in tech, science, and innovation. A dream opportunity-except Princess Shuri hates you. Or pretends to. You're not sure which is worse.

Word Count: ~ 3.1k

Genre: Slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, academic rivalry, mutual pining

Warnings: Petty insults, academic tension, mutual jealousy, background family meddling

The Royal Wakandan Institute for Global Advancement was not a place you were supposed to belong.

Yet, you stood at the center of it braids slicked back, nose ring catching the light, notebook full of schematics cradled in one arm, looking every bit like you did belong. Because you did. Not that Princess Shuri would ever admit it.

“All the students across the diaspora,” she murmured that first morning, not looking up from her hologram tablet, “and they chose… you.”

You smiled, sharp and slow. “Nice to meet you as well… Princess.”

That was Day One. The tone was set.

You’d heard about Shuri long before you met her. Child prodigy. Genius engineer. Princess of a nation hidden and powerful.

What they didn’t tell you however, She was petty. Regal, yes. Brilliant, of course. But also… cutting. Her voice stayed light, her posture cool, but her insults always slid between your ribs like a sharpened vibranium blade.

“I suppose you tried your best,” she said once after a group project debrief. “It must be exhausting, doing everything manually. No AI assistance, no advanced tech. Very… rustic of you.”

You’d smiled back, just as tight. “Some of us like to actually learn before outsourcing our intellect.”

The room went quiet. T’Challa, leaning near the door with folded arms, choked down a laugh behind a gloved hand.

“Oh, I like her,” he muttered. “I like her.”

⸻————————————————————————————

You did learn. Fast. Faster than anyone expected.

Every time she tried to embarrass you in the lab—asking obscure formulae mid-demo, smirking during your presentations—you’d come back harder, better, ready with facts and a counter-argument.

Not that it ever stopped her.

“Next time,” she said sweetly one afternoon, brushing past you, “don’t forget to carry the one. Or do you always miscalculate under pressure?”

“Do you always hover when I work?” you shot back.

She blinked at you once. Just once. Then turned and walked off. You pretended not to see how she chuckled after.

The thing about Shuri was…she didn’t hate you. Not really.

She stayed late whenever you stayed late. Always “just checking on the tech,” always conveniently at the next station over, always stealing glances when she thought you weren’t looking.

And Lord, the way she flinched when that Kenyan student from Nairobi flirted with you after the engineering showcase. You weren’t even trying. Just existing. Just breathing.

Shuri had all but materialized between you, smiling with the kind of sweetness that made your skin crawl.

“She doesn’t even know how to run basic thermal readings,” she told you later, voice low, eyes hard. “But I suppose you’re easily impressed.”

You blinked at her. “Are you mad I talked to someone else?”

“I’m not mad,” she snapped. Too fast. “I’m just surprised mediocrity excites you.”

“Oh,” you said, mouth twisting. “Is that why you keep showing up every time I breathe near a lab?”

She didn’t answer. Just walked away. You stared at her retreating back. Petty, petty Princess.

⸻————————————————————————————

Her family knew. T’Challa took to teasing her about it openly, especially when you were in the room.

“She’s quite brilliant, isn’t she?” he’d muse aloud, watching her shoulders stiffen across the dining hall. “Sharp tongue. Looks good in her lab coat. Dangerous combination.”

“Brother.”

“I’m only saying, it’s impressive. Not everyone can keep up with you.”

Shuri glared at him. He grinned wider. Even Queen Ramonda got in on the games, albeit more subtly.

You’d caught her eye once during a tense discussion between you and Shuri over reactor specs. Shuri had been on your ass about hypothetical energy loss you countered her model with a cleaner schematic and a raised brow. She hadn’t liked that.

“You’re so sure of yourself,” Shuri muttered.

“I don’t have to pretend to be humble. Not when I’m right.”

The silence that followed was personal. Queen Ramonda sipped her tea, watching the two of you like a stage play.

“You two argue like you’ve been together for years,” she said idly.

You choked on your water. Shuri damn near dropped her tablet. T’Challa had to leave the room, he was laughing so hard.

⸻————————————————————————————

But here was the thing: you didn’t hate her either.

You didn’t like the way her eyes lit up when she solved a problem or when her hands flew across a vibranium interface like a second language.

You didn’t like how she stood close when she talked to you, voice low and lips parted, like she forgot how distance worked. You didn’t like how she challenged you.

You definitely didn’t like how much it turned you on.

When one of the visiting instructors tried to flirt with her after a panel, you had to physically leave the room. Your hand clenched so hard your stylus snapped in half.

Later, in private, Shuri found you on the balcony. She leaned next to you, silence stretching.

“You were quiet,” she said.

“You were busy.”

She didn’t move. “He was boring.”

“You let him flirt anyway.”

“I didn’t,” she said, looking at you now. “I ignored him. That’s what you do when you’re not interested.”

You met her eyes. “Is that how you look at people you are interested in?”

Her jaw clenched. But she didn’t deny it. You’d kill each other before admitting you were in love.

But God help whoever flirted with either of you in the meantime.

⸻————————————————————————————

There was no rule saying you had to sit next to her.

There were no seat assignments in the advanced vibranium applications lecture. No assigned lab partners. No chart telling the twenty Wakandan students and ten from the global outreach cohort where to post up during presentations.

So the way you and Princess Shuri always ended up side by side, shoulder-to-shoulder, breath brushing the same air—well, that was nobody’s fault.

Certainly not yours.

You didn’t notice it, not at first. Not until one of the older engineers stopped mid-sentence during a live prototype demo, blinking at the two of you like he’d seen double.

“You two…” he said, tilting his head. “You are syncing your interfaces?”

You looked up from your holo-screen, then to your right—where Shuri, brow furrowed, was adjusting the same calibrations in reverse.

You blinked. “Oh.”

She didn’t look at you. Didn’t need to.

“…Apparently,” she said dryly, not missing a beat. “Hope your tech can keep up.”

You didn’t answer. Just smirked and turned back to your screen, already rerouting your signal to beat her by one second. Petty, you thought. She wants to play? Fine.

The instructor was still staring. Okoye was in the back of the room, arms folded, grinning like she knew a secret.

Queen Ramonda wasn’t even there and probably felt it in her spirit.

It wasn’t just in the lab.

At lunch, during field studies, on the palace grounds—you moved like two planets orbiting the same invisible force. Constantly side by side without meaning to. Always reacting to the same things at the same time.

Someone dropped a tray? You both turned. Someone made a mistake in a lesson? You both corrected them—in sync, in stereo, and with the same biting tone.

She insulted with elegance. You responded with execution. Never rude. Never blatant. Just smart. Always smart. When it wasn’t sharpness, it was timing. Clean, instinctual, freakishly aligned.

Like when you both rolled your eyes at the exact same moment after the new student from New York compared Wakandan architecture to “like… Iron Man’s pad.”

You hadn’t even been facing her. But the chuckle that slipped from her lips when she heard yours was almost fond. Almost.

⸻————————————————————————————

You never talked about it.

It would’ve meant acknowledging something was there. A thread neither of you wanted to name. So you kept it buried, wrapped in attitude and sharp glares and stiff posture.

But even when you were standing still, you matched. From the side of the room you chose, to the way your arms folded. Sometimes, she mirrored you before even realizing. Sometimes, you did it back.

Ayo called it out once in the lab, deadpan.

“Are you both possessed?” she asked.

You blinked. Looked down. Shuri had her ankle crossed over her opposite foot—exactly like yours. You hadn’t noticed.

Neither had she. You both straightened at once.

“I do not copy her,” Shuri said immediately.

“Relax,” you muttered, smoothing your shirt. “You just have taste.”

T’Challa laughed until Okoye smacked the back of his head.

⸻————————————————————————————

It was Shuri who started the handoffs. She’d slide a tool across the bench without looking. Just a flick of her fingers in your direction.

Yet, somehow, it always landed where your hand already was. One time, she held out a stylus mid-presentation. You took it without hesitation, eyes still on the speaker. Your fingers brushed. Neither of you flinched.

You swore you heard someone gasp behind you.

The soft sound of Nakia whispering, “Are they…together?”

M’Baku’s grunt of “Not yet.”

You ignored it.

⸻————————————————————————————

They whispered because neither of you said anything.

Maybe you liked that. The quiet tension. The way you two pretended it didn’t exist. How the silence dragged out the smallest gestures until they felt like confessions. A glance. A smirk. The absence of words when words would ruin it.

She liked quiet more than she let on. But only with you. That’s what made the next thing happen the way it did.

It was during the Wakandan Cultural and Science Exchange week—meaning half the palace was open to dignitaries, global students, and a lot of overeager researchers with fragile egos and too many questions.

You were hunched over a processor, tuning the synaptic response on a panel interface. Shuri stood beside you, reading off metrics in a voice so low it barely carried. She kept the data flowing steady, her words syncing with your hands like she knew where you were going before you did.

And then—because someone always has to ruin a moment—he stepped up.

“Excuse me, Princess,” a young voice said, awkward but brave. You didn’t look up. Shuri barely glanced.

He was American, maybe eighteen, dressed like a student intern with a clipboard clutched in both hands.

“I was just wondering,” he said, nervous but pressing on, “are you…are you seeing anyone?”

You felt her body shift slightly beside you, her chin lifting. Then she did glance. Not at him. At you.

You were already looking at her, a crooked smirk pulling at your lips. You didn’t even pause what you were doing, just raised your brows like, really?

She held your gaze for half a second. Not even long. But long enough.

Then she turned back to the boy and said, cool as ever:

“…Yes.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

You didn’t mind. You didn’t say anything. Just leaned a little closer to the processor, brushing her arm in passing, and said, “You wanna tell me who it is?”

Shuri didn’t miss a beat. “You already know.”

You nodded once. “Cool.”

That was it. No butterflies. No dramatic stares. Just…mutual understanding. Casual. Quiet. The boy walked off mumbling something about taking data readings in the south wing.

The processor beeped, and you both looked down in sync. The moment passed.

Later, when word got around that Princess Shuri was “taken,” everyone assumed the same thing.

No one dared ask you. They already knew better. But they watched. Lord, did they watch.

Because if Shuri stood, you stood. If you spoke, she followed. If you reached, she met you halfway. You bumped into her once during a team lunch and didn’t even say sorry. Just nudged her hip out the way and kept walking. She didn’t flinch. Just looked after you with a tight-lipped smile like you were hers to handle.

She called you annoying. You called her unbearable.

Neither of you meant it.

⸻————————————————————————————

You stood next to her during the graduation ceremony. Unassigned, of course. No one told you to. No one had to.

You weren’t wearing royal white, but you looked royal anyway chin up, smile poised, posture perfect. And when they called your name to accept your commendation, you didn’t even glance at her.

But she clapped before anyone else did. Hands sharp, head tilted, eyes steady.

“Show-off,” she murmured.

“Sore loser,” you replied.

Still—you stood there with your arms brushing. Neither of you moved. Not until it was over.

By the time the program ended, everyone had their theories.

Nakia swore you’d kiss by the next full moon. Ayo had a betting pool going. Even Queen Ramonda simply smiled and said, “They’ll figure it out. Or they won’t. Either way, it’s done.”

Only you and Shuri refused to name it. Because it was easier this way. Natural. Petty. Yours. What did it matter, anyway? She was already yours.

Even if she’d never say it. Even if you’d never ask.

It started with a look.

No one else noticed it. But you did. That little thing she does when she thinks you’re being reckless—a blink slower than necessary, lips pressing into a line, fingers drumming twice instead of three times. And today, you were being reckless, sure.

You’d bypassed the safety delay in the vibranium interface to test a new data pathway, but it wasn’t that deep.

“You’re being impulsive,” Shuri had said that morning.

You hadn’t even looked at her. “I’m being efficient.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“You’re dramatic.”

Her jaw tightened. “You’re stubborn.”

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “So are you, Princess.”

From that point on, it was war. The tension dragged all day. Silent pauses. Cold glances. Petty little one-liners tossed between code runs and hardware checks. You didn’t want to talk about it. Not really.

But you were irritated, and the way she kept pretending she wasn’t bothered. That made it worse.

She was always pretending. Calm. Collected. Never snapping even when you pushed. Which, today, you did. Repeatedly.

You cursed out loud when a wire sparked in your hand.

“Stop cursing,” she said automatically, not even looking up.

You paused mid-wince, eyes narrowing. “…Girl, what the—”

“Stop.” Now she looked at you. Steady. Stern. Annoyed in that regal, composed way that made you want to throw something.

You snorted, grinning just to piss her off. “You act like I’m throwing my life away every time I say ‘fuck.’”

She didn’t respond. Just shook her head once and went back to the console. That should’ve been it. But no.

Every little thing became a point of tension after that. Your posture. Her tone. The way she typed too loud. The way you exhaled too hard. The way she wiped her glasses on your sleeve even though she had her own damn coat. Everything.

Even Griot seemed to be watching silently, like the AI had learned to keep quiet during moments.

It was late afternoon when it finally hit a wall.

You were still bickering. Still at it. You’d corrected her measurements twice in the span of fifteen minutes—not because she was wrong, but because you were still mad. She let you do it. Just stared at you for a beat too long.

“I don’t know what your problem is today,” you muttered, tossing a tool onto the bench. “But maybe take a nap or something. You’re clearly pressed.”

She blinked slowly. “You are the one raising your voice.”

“I’m barely even…never mind. I don’t care.” You stood to walk off, irritation blooming behind your eyes like a headache—sharp and dull at the same time.

She caught your arm gently. Not hard. Just enough to stop you.

“Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you snapped, trying to pull away.

“You’re walking off like a child.”

“And you’re getting on my nerves.”

She stared at you. You stared right back. Silence.

Then, her hand moved from your wrist to your elbow. Still soft. Still steady. “Sit down.”

You blinked. “What—?”

“I said sit. You’ve had that headache since lunch.”

You hesitated.

She guided you. Not with force—just a kind of mature insistence that made it impossible to argue without looking ridiculous. So you let her. Sat down at the lab bench while she pulled a water bottle from the shelf and set it beside you without a word.

You didn’t say thank you. She didn’t expect one.

The lab quieted.

For a while, you both worked in silence. No music. No snark. Just the hum of tools and the low buzz of the AI monitoring system. Your head still hurt. You refused to complain.

Shuri tinkered with a scanner, fingers moving in efficient, practiced rhythm. She wasn’t watching you. But she was close, closer than necessary, really—and every time she moved, her arm brushed yours.

You didn’t move away. At some point, she let out a quiet sigh. Soft. Heavy.

“…I apologize.”

You blinked. “What?”

“For earlier.”

Your lips parted. A smartass response sat on your tongue, but it didn’t feel right. So you just blinked again. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” she murmured. “But you’re clearly upset. And it’s easier to say sorry than argue for another six hours.” You rolled your eyes, but it was weak. Tired.

“Damn. So you do give in sometimes.”

“Only when it’s not worth the headache.”

You smirked. “So I am the headache.”

She didn’t answer. You leaned your chin in your hand. “You hate that I talk back to you.”

“I don’t,” she said too quickly.

“You hate that I don’t care about your title.”

“I admire that,” she said honestly.

You squinted at her. She looked tired, too. Not in the physical way. But in the knows-she’s-always-the-one-who-has-to-be-the-adult way.

That irritated something in you. Something soft.

“…I didn’t mean to piss you off,” you muttered.

“You didn’t,” she said, too calm. “You just reminded me how much more you could be.”

You paused. “That sounds backhanded.”

She shrugged, standing behind you now. “It wasn’t.”

Before you could decide if you were going to let that sit or slap her in the back of her regal-ass head— She leaned down. Kissed your forehead. Barely. Light as breath.

You froze. So did she. It was so casual. So unthinking. She hadn’t meant it. Hadn’t realized.

Until—

“Ooooooh,” Griot said, in full stereo, way too amused.

Shuri turned sharply. “Shut up.”

You stared at her. Stunned. Then you started laughing. Loud. Head thrown back, the first real laugh all day.

She rolled her eyes and walked away from you again, but not far. You didn’t stop laughing until your sides hurt.

By evening, you were still working. The argument, technically unresolved, had faded into something else—comfortable silence, soft tension, new electricity.

Shuri made you tea at some point and didn’t comment on your swearing for the rest of the night. You didn’t thank her. She didn’t need you to. You’d win the next one.

But tonight…she let you have it. When you bumped her shoulder on your way out, she bumped you right back—harder.

Still regal. Still yours.

Even if neither of you said it.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai @mrsarnold @prettyyyinblack

[meganooregano]

The Old Guard 2 *spoilers*

This is just a formless rant. Spoilers below the cut!

Okay wow that was a trip.

We started off strong. Nile dressed as Kim Possible. Copley on a mission! Nicky/Joe speaking Italian! Story about a funny death of Booker's! Nile's compassion towards Booker! The thumb thing!! Climbing the wall like a badass! It lacked the precision you would expect from a team that's done this thousands of time, and not a lot of teamwork except between Joe and Nicky, but I could forgive that.

The car chase had Joe calling him Nicolo!! At no point did anyone speak Arabic which is... A choice... Of the racist kind... But hearing both Joe and Nicky's full first name's was nice.

And the drinking scene was cute. We got Joe and Nicky being married AF. The focus is on Andy, with Nile supporting, I could get behind that.

That line Andy says about being at peace was a little cliche in that well obviously now something is going to come blow that up and we know it's Quynh, so I guess there was no point trying to be subtle about that.

From there it just seemed to go downhill.

Nicky being the grudge holder makes perfect sense but idk why else he thought Joe was sneaking around. Their argument lacked the familiarity you would expect from a couple that has been together a thousand years. "you've always been too forgiving," or "I should have known you would follow me," nothing. The speech from Nicky was nice but I was hoping for a stronger reaction from Joe, or an apology for lying, or God forbid a kiss when they are not in mortal peril.

Why has no one else ever dreamed of Discord or Tuah and speaking of what kind of dumb moniker is Discord anyway?!

Wouldn't Nile or booker know if Quynh has been free for months??

Booker's rescue was so anticlimactic. Quyhn wants to hurt everyone but doesn't torture him?? What was the point of the new clothes other than to make booker look as European as possible. Why didn't booker ask for Andy to pick him up if the point was to just be messenger?

Tuah seemed like he was just a plot device. Not much personality. He's supposedly researched immortals but has not ever talked to Joe or Nicky or Booker or Nile or Quynh? And doesn't see Andy often I assume. How can you track their impact if you aren't told about their missions. Or their life. I guess he's the bystander immortal complement to Yitzhak in the comics, but he seemed like just a way to convey info about discord.

Which. Discord and tuah saw Quynh being taking away and 1) didn't help and 2) didn't help find her?? Wild. I have a hard time believing that Quynh didn't know discord was using her. And having Quynh work for her took away so much of her agency. She's free after 500 years, I was expecting hell-hath-no-fury-from-a-woman-scorned, not passively putting the bomb down after cursing out andromache only once. She could have been glorious.

The plot about the myth was dumb. 6 months since Nile has joined the team and not once has she sparred against Joe or Nicky and injured them? That's all I'm going to say about that. It was dumb.

Booker immediately trying to be mortal and transfer it to Andy was very in character. He didn't stop to think about it or tell anyone, which yeah makes sense for him. HOWEVER he didn't attempt to say bye to anyone which is crazy to me. Joe and Nicky were his brothers, not one awkward I missed you hug and nothing to nile? Also what was that cold shoulder comment from him. He knows what he did. He knew he betrayed them, he said in the last movie he expected a longer punishment. So why is he acting like he doesn't know why they won't forgive him?

Having the entire plot turn out to be because she wants her immortality back is just. Wild.

It's shallow? Or hollow, idk, but there's no substance there?? She said all that crap about them playing God... But wants to be immortal again? For what? She doesn't claim to want power, it's just immortality for no purpose.

We got Booker's death drawn out, and see Andy's emotions about it, but wow they did not grant booker much dignity there in the end. And no time for mourning afterward, there was no mention of Andy going back for him or for Copley. I was expecting a burial or something, but you only see that she took Quynh with her.

And the movie ending where it did was... Blegh. We waited 5 years for that?? If they don't make a third to have everyone be rescued imma be upset.

As someone who made this movie and the comics their entire personality for awhile I had a lot of feelings about this movie and had to get this out!

[lilyblackdrawside]

Alternate operators are usually made to represent an operator in a later stage of their life, usually to show growth and/or other significant change.

In this process they tend to be put into a different job or branch, but usually retain some of their gameplay themes of their original version.

I will list these parallels now in a long post.

Lava the Purgatory: Lava’s notworthy trait is deploying with a ton of extra SP so she can use her skill right away and Purgatory retains this. I want to also bring up an aesthetic touch that I really like: When Lava attacks, she lifts her knife then shakily holds it in position for a moment before swinging it down, the start of this motion is when her attack hits. This gives her a rather lengthy delay between acquiring her target and hitting it. This long windup is actually something that all Splash Casters have. They all take quite a bit of time to swing their staff in some way (or sword in Dusk’s case) and it’s pretty noticeable when you watch them next to another Caster. It isn’t usually detrimental at all, except for Dusk who regularly gets smallfry kills sniped out from under her windup which makes stacking her talent a bit harder than it should be at times. Purgatory however, has a very quick attack animation where she makes swipe with her knife and leaves a sick dimensional tear behind in its path. This is a really nice way to show how much more experienced she is now.

Skadi the Corrupting Heart: There’s really nothing here that parallels Skormal, but that’s very much on purpose because this isn’t Skadi anymore. Skalter has a skill that raises her max HP, by a higher % than Skormal even, but that hardly counts. Skormal’s S3 is called „Tidal Elegy“ and all of Skalter’s skills are songs of some kind, so there’s that. There’s also Skalter gaining extra ATK from being near a Hunter, whereas Skormal gives extra ATK to the Hunters. This could be something.

Ch’en the Holungday: Her ammo-saving support is akin to Ch’ormal’s SP support, but that’s a bit shaky since she doesn’t even share the full effect, only half of it.

Nearl the Radiant Knight: There’s nothing here, but once again on purpose.

kralter: has a crit talent and an offensive recovery multi-hit skill

Specter the Unchained: Becomes unkillable with S2, which also has a drawback on expiring (death) and with S3 she regains her multi-targeting from her Centurion days. Hibiscus the Purifier: She’s still a Medic! Her S1 gives extra ATK too! Yeah there’s nothing here.

Gavial the Invincible: Gavial has healing-over-time and Gavialter has damage-over-time (on herself) and also a self-healing skill. And she has a talent that increases her ATK and DEF. The parallels are thin, because she’s going back to her days of killing people instead of medicing them.

Greyy the Lightningbearer: His kit is built around slowing enemies and he deals splash damage. Even still does some arts damage too.

Texas the Omertosa: She has a skill that drops swords on people and stuns them, which she also very strikingly did in her Vanguard days.

reedler:

there’s fire

Kirin R Yato: She has a low redeploy time, which is the one standout quality of Yato. That’s because she’s a 2 star, so she doesn’t even have a skill or anything but thanks to her talent, becoming an Executor works quite nicely for her.

Rathalos S Noir Corne: He was the first Musha Guard who didn’t just get +100 ASPD from the Tenacity talent. Noirlter instead gets up to +50 ASPD and +50% DEF, recalling his roots as a Defender. This comes out even more with his S1, which is a very defensive skill.

Silence the Paradigmatic: With her S2, she gets a freely deployable Drone that lets her have mapwide presence. Instead of healing, it gives a large amount of Sanctuary so it’s more of a preventative measure than one for recovery, but it’s very powerful. Very beautiful. She also has a recovery aura in her attack range, which is similar to Sormal’s Drone providing area healing.

Eyjafjalla the Hvit Aska: Her S3 is performed like Eyjormal’s.

Swire the Elegant Wit: There’s nothing here. She’s not providing squad support because she’s on vacation. Ask nicely and she’ll buy you a drink if you’re cute.

Jalter: Her S2 still gives evasion.

Fang the Fire-Sharpened: Retains the cost reduction on her talent.

Wiš’adel:

Still inflicts Stun wherever she goes and is all about exploding large amounts of enemies. She also has a defensive aspect with her camouflaging talent that helps her not get shot.

Vina Victoria: Her S1 deals damage in the same are as Siege’s S2, her talent 1 buffs her allies.

Whitewolf the Decadenza: She’s got Silence and deals Arts damage.

Thorns the Lodestar: He has a range extension on his S3 and deals arts damage over time.

So overall, there’s usually something they take from their original version. I think that’s neat and it’s fun when there’s a direct evolution on a concept that was a core of their former self. Of course, this shouldn’t always be done because it would be constricting for designing them. But when I make a custom alter for an operator, I like to carry something over in a direct way.

[1tsjusty0u]

oh my god imcgoing to have to entirely change zeldas struggle in this

[lxnarphase]

━ ❝ OH, IT'S MINIKUNA ! ❞

✮₊‧⁺...content: heian era!sukuna x wife!reader, fluff, mentions of childbirth, sukuna is an overly proud father, sukuna is whipped for his wife

✮₊‧⁺...lunar's note: based of this little blurbie and this one too !! needed some fluff with kuna bc he would love having a baby girl idc what anyone says !!! also i did my best describing the birthing process in a time accurate period but it's definitely a bit inaccurate because...i have never had a baby LOL

no one has ever seen sukuna ryomen, king of curses, wince before.

not until today, at the wrath of his pregnant wife who somehow got a hold of his fingers instead of his hand.

one of the nurses did warn him to not give you his finger and to ensure you always hold his hand. but by the gods, he swears you almost ripped his finger off.

it's cute to him, however, when you attempt to curse him out.

'gods, sukuna, i despise your entire being!'

'i know, my wife.'

'i should've never let you get me pregnant, you animal!'

'you begged for it, my wife.'

'i am never letting you bed me again, use your hand for the rest of your existence!'

'you can't keep your hands off me, my wife, no need to lie.'

but the sigh of relief, the way you instantly look down and coo once the sound of wailing filled the air...it makes him melt just a little bit.

he can't deny, seeing you in pain made him heated. it took everything in him not to kill every midwife, nurse, and lady-in-waiting in your birth room for not being able to make this process completely painless.

except chiyo. he would have to reward your personal physician for preparing you so well for this...

what did the old hag like again? wines, meats, gifts for her grandchildren back at home?

hm, yes, that would be great for her. of course, he'll say it was from you. the king of curses shows gratitude for no one.

he's pulled out of his thoughts at the hushed whispers once the other women exam the baby before following your unspoken request to hold your child.

"d-do you think lord sukuna will harm our lady for this...?"

"i hope not, surely he can make an exception, t-they both are still young and can always try for more!"

"but he's the king of curses, t-there no way he won't have a reaction!"

before he can demand what they find so important to discuss in front of you, chiyo hushes the girls with a wave of her hand, ushering the girls to help wipe off your sweat, tears, and clean off the baby—gentle like it's the finest glass, she instructs—before turning to sukuna with a knowing smile.

"well, your greatness...congratulations on having a healthy and gorgeous little girl," she hums, wiping her hands with a clean cloth before going to rinse her hands to help stitch any rips and clean you up.

the room falls silent aside from your soft little coos and the wails of your daughter as you brush the wet, fluffy hair on her little head.

all the women in the room continue to work, but it's clear they are silently waiting for his outburst.

everyone knows that a proper heir to any throne is a boy...but now, sukuna's first born child is a girl.

but rather angry, yelling, and threats to your and your child's life, the room is filled with Suku's booming laughter, which practically shakes the entire room.

instead of an enraged expression, pure delight, and excitement are painted on his face as he sits next to you on the soft cushiony bedding on the floor, his hand caressing the rounded cheek of your newborn.

"so, you've given me a girl," he hums in delight, all four of his eyes narrowing. "this will be the one who takes over my throne once i decide to step down?"

this thing, this tiny, itty bitty baby...came from you both? it's almost laughable how small this baby is compared to his hand, that something so little could be related to him.

she's...nothing short of perfect. "absolutely divine...she will not just be beautiful like her mother, but as powerful as both of us."

he's so proud of you and your child. he would shower your daughter with riches, love, and anything she could ever want and ask for.

but, he couldn't lie.

she's a damned fat baby, big head and all.

"sukuna, watch your mouth!"

he can't help but laugh, not realizing his thoughts came out of his mouth. "what, it's a good thing! means she's healthy," he boasts with a grin, leaning down closer to see her better.

"she looks strong already. as soon as she is able, i will personally teach her how to be a truly malevolent little princess, how to properly slit the necks of her enemies, how to—!”

oh, he is so excited, it's adorable.

“sukuna, shush, i just gave birth to a child with a massive head like yours, give me a moment," you say with a light laugh, your smile still reaching your clearly tired eyes.

“…apologies, my wife.”

chiyo can't help but laugh with you she finishes applying the healing ointment on your lower body, using a bit of her cursed energy to speed up the healing process to help you skip any serious pain.

after all, nothing but the best physician for you in sukuna's palace.

"always such an excitable boy, my lord, ever since you were a young man," she hums, helping one of the midwives properly wrap your baby in the soft, clean cloth.

"be gentle with her," you instruct him, gently moving your arms toward him so he could take the little bundle. he's...nervous, but he hides it well.

you place your daughter in his arms and he looks down at her, suddenly conscious of how loud he's breathing. she's got his hair, still a bit wet but soft and fluffy. it's pink, just like his.

a pleased rumble vibrates his chest, and he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

but then...her eyes open.

both sets.

he almost didn't notice it at first, they're just so small, but they're there. the same color as yours, pretty and big, filled with so much life.

his eyes burn, vision getting blurry. no words come to his head, he can't think of anything to say. he's so caught up in his thought he doesn't even notice chiyo ushering the other girls in the room out and shutting the door before quietly tending to you with water or food.

she knows that look, you do as well. she's been around longer than uraume to know her master, knowing the king of curses since his young years as the unwanted child of the village, abandoned by his mother for his 'horrid' appearance.

she was lucky to have found him before the villagers got to him, torches, axes, pitchforks and daggers in hand to take care of the child who they believed to have brought misfortune to their home.

getting him to safety was one of the best decisions she'd ever made, king of curses or not. no child deserved to be abandoned like that. and now, he's seeing himself in that tiny little being in his arms right now...chiyo can only imagine what he's feeling.

so, out of respect, she keeps her gaze averted, pretending she does not see the misty gaze he gives your daughter. this is a moment for you and him, and she does her best to make all her movements as quiet as possible.

all sukuna can think about in this moment is how he used to be just as tiny as this. he was just as vulnerable in his mothers arms. he couldn't talk, couldn't speak, couldn't fend for himself.

yet, his parents looked down at him just like this and decided he was an abomination and didn't give him a chance.

but now?

sukuna knows he would never, ever let anything happen to this little bundle in his arms. he would rather destroy the entire planet before letting anything happen to his baby girl. no one would make his little one suffer and live to see another day.

he flinches just a little, feeling your soft hand rubbing his bicep. "it's okay, my love," you softly coo at him, reaching up to wipe a tear from his eye before it had a chance to drip down his cheek. "she's going to grow up feeling loved and cherished because she's got a great father."

"hmm..."

a smile crosses his features as he looks back down, looking at the squirming baby so makes a little noise before calming down when he strokes her little, chubby cheek again to keep her from crying again.

"and she's got a great mother. she'll be the most wonderful princess in all of history," he says with a toothy grin, chest rumbling with a laugh.

"aww, my love, that's so sweet..."

"seriously, though, how in hells did you squeeze this thing out of ya? thing's got the head of a watermelon."

"sukuna, give me back my baby, and chiyo? get this man some food to stuff in his mouth before he says something to warrent the rage of a new mother."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[rafedarling]

Can you write a moment of an interview with Jimmy Kimmel asks Drew one or two questions about his relationship since him and actress!y/n have confirmed that they are together on an instagram post (that they are currently this year in a relationship according to the rumor of Internet users and media) and Drew mentions actress!y/n abt how she's amazing, that he will love to work with her one day :)

since i already wrote one for drew at jimmy, i think i should put them both on the norton show. hope you like it!

𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: you and drew are invited to the graham norton show to promote your upcoming movie, set to release in april. however, the interview isn’t just about your movie, it also touches on your recently confirmed relationship, sending the audience into a frenzy.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, playful teasing, past pining, and drew being the sweetest boyfriend ever.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @issabellec7

marie’s note: i just opened my wattpad account! from now on, you can read my fanfics on both tumblr and wattpad. however, i can’t guarantee that i’ll be very active on wattpad. a little update on my upcoming work, i’m currently working on the return of superman mini-series!

Graham grinned, waiting for the applause to settle before dramatically placing a hand over his chest.

“Alright, alright,” he said, pretending to catch his breath.

“Let me sit down first because I simply cannot stand here and do an interview with such a powerful couple.”

The audience laughed, and you shook your head in amusement. Drew leaned back, his arm resting casually behind you on the couch, a smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” Graham continued, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Not only are you both co-stars in your new movie, but also lovers off-screen. Is it true?”

The crowd went wild again.

Drew chuckled, shaking his head at the dramatic reaction.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his Southern drawl making the words sound even more charming.

“We are lovers off-screen.”

Graham leaned forward, clearly loving every second of it.

“Since you’ve already confirmed it on Instagram, let’s dive in a little. How did this all start? Y/N, do you want to take this one?”

“Sure,” you said with a smile.

“I actually met Drew through his sister, Brooke. I was in her friend group, and she invited me over to her new place once. That was the first time we met.”

Drew nodded.

“Yeah, Y/N was one of my sister’s friends, but after that, she kind of disappeared. We didn’t see each other again for a long time, maybe a year or so.”

“Ah, so was there an instant connection? Or did it take a little while to realize, ‘Oh, that’s the person I want to know more about’?”

Graham asked, clearly invested.

Drew turned to you with a teasing smirk.

“If we’re talking about our first meeting… I didn’t have feelings for her then.”

The audience gasped dramatically, and you burst into laughter.

“Hold on, hold on before you boo me!”

Drew added quickly, grinning.

“At the time, I was crushing on someone else. But when I met Y/N again later, it hit me hard. Like — why hadn’t I asked her out before? What was I doing?”

Graham gasped, clutching his chest for comedic effect.

“Scandalous!”

“I know, right?” you joked.

“Plot twist, I actually liked him from the very beginning.”

Drew’s head snapped toward you, eyes wide.

“Wait, what?”

Graham looked like he had just struck gold.

“Oh, this is juicy. Tell us more!”

You chuckled, shrugging.

“Yeah, I had feelings for him when we first met, but I knew he had a crush on someone else, so I just… kept quiet about it. I liked him so much that I couldn’t even date other guys.”

Graham covered his face, laughing so hard he had to lean back in his chair. The audience reacted with a mix of cheers and sympathetic awws.

“Wait, wait, wait… hold on,”

Drew said, pointing at you in shock.

“You never told me this!”

“I know,” you said, giggling.

“I guess I thought it was silly.”

“Silly?” Drew looked at Graham, then back at you.

“Babe, I feel like I need to apologize to past you.”

Graham wiped away imaginary tears.

“Oh, this is the kind of romantic drama I live for!”

Drew shook his head, smiling.

“I can’t believe you were out there suffering in silence while I was being an idiot.”

“It’s fine,” you teased. “You figured it out eventually.”

The audience burst into applause, and Graham clapped his hands together.

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say, thank goodness you did! Now, Drew, if given the chance, would you want to work on-screen with Y/N again?”

Drew didn’t hesitate.

“Oh, absolutely. She’s amazing; such a talented actress. I’d love to work with her again.”

You turned to him, surprised and touched by his words.

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said softly.

“I mean, I get to see how incredible you are off-screen, so getting to experience that on-screen again? That’d be a dream.”

The audience erupted into cheers again, and Graham dramatically fanned himself.

“Well, if you two ever do another movie together, let’s hope it’s a rom-com, because this kind of chemistry needs to be on display!”

Drew laughed, slipping his hand into yours.

“We’ll see what happens.”

Graham then leaned forward, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“And Drew, since we’re on the topic, what has it been like dating Y/N? Fans are dying to know how you feel about it.”

Drew’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, and for a moment, he looked at you instead of Graham. The teasing smile softened into something more sincere.

“It’s honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he admitted.

The audience collectively sighed in adoration.

“I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. Y/N is just… she’s amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who balances me out the way she does. She’s the most patient, kind, and ridiculously talented person I know.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, heat creeping up your cheeks.

Graham pretended to wipe away tears.

“Oh, this is too sweet. Keep going!”

Drew laughed but continued.

“She makes everything feel easier. My life gets pretty crazy, you know? Between filming, traveling, press there’s a lot going on. But with her, it’s like… I always have this anchor. Someone who keeps me grounded. And the best part? She never tries to change me. She just lets me be me.”

The audience let out a chorus of “Aww!” and you squeezed his hand, feeling overwhelmed by how openly he was speaking.

“Okay, this is getting too romantic for me,”

Graham joked, fanning himself.

“I feel like we’re intruding on a private moment!”

Drew chuckled, looking back at you with a grin.

“Well, you asked, man.”

Graham shook his head playfully.

“I did, and I’m so glad I did! You two are adorable.”

The interview wrapped up soon after, but that moment the way Drew looked at you, the way his words made your heart feel like it might burst, was already making waves across the internet. Fans were calling you the Hollywood couple of the year. And honestly? You didn’t mind one bit.

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 7.

Prev Next

The gun was cold in your hands. After everyone had left for patrol, you had snuck into Jason's room. Knowing he wasn't in the manner made it easier to do soon. You took one of his smaller guns and 4 boxes of ammo. It took you longer than you would have liked to match the bullet in the gun's magazine. Still you were able to find the right ones. He also had throwing knives hidden in his room which you gladly took.

Now standing on the small private beach in the back of the manor grounds, you shot at discarded cans. Your old tablet played videos on gun safety and how to aim. Still you couldn't hit a can. It was different from throwing a blades.

With a blade there were many factors. How you held the blade played a part. The best way you found was to hold the blade towards you balancing it on your middle and index finger. Than lightly push down with your thumb towards your palm. Bring that up over your head than throwing and releasing. When you released, how much power you put in, and amount of pressure you placed with your thumb depended on distance. Aiming was just a matter of when to let go.

Yet it seemed like very little of that applied to guns. Sure there were sights to help you aim. But that didn't mesh well with how you were used to aiming with knives. Plus the kick back was starting to make your wrists ache. Jason was doing this shit one handed. Maybe you were holding it wrong, the videos weren't giving you a good view. Adjusting your grip you tried again.

Bang. The can stayed upright but at least the gun didn't kick back as much. You were able to keep from flinching too much as well so you were adjusting to the noise. There was a new chip in the rock next to the can. You sighed before setting the weapon down. This wasn't working.

Yes, you had improved. No longer hitting the sand or the cliff face behind your target. Still you weren't hit the can and weren't even that far away. There was no way you could face these guys without a weapon. Grumbling in frustration, you took one of the throwing knives and threw at the can. That one actually hit.

You reached over and paused the video. It was than you heard something. It was faint an inhale of breath from behind some rocks. Breathing throught your nose, you steel your nerves. Going off on Dick ealier was going have consequences. Maybe Bruce had sent someone to take you back. There was no telling. Smiling at the screen, you said, "Break time."

You changed the video to a dance routine you liked. Taking the first position in the dance you waited.

Dance was a hobby you picked up from Barbara. You had watched her do some old ballet routines from when she was seven. Orginially she had preformed them for Dick back when you were one, you could barely remember the movements. Still caused a small spark in you, a want to be like your big sister. The spark remained for two years. You started learning from videos when you were three. You never did them where anyone could see you, preferring to learn privately. In the experiments, you would use the routines in your cell to check that your muscles still functioned properly.

Now you used it as a way to observe subtly. The spins and position changes allowed you to take stock of your surroundings. Mid song is when you saw him.

He was hidden in alcove with a deep green cloak. He was tall around the same height as Jason. A part of you question if he just came from a Ren Fair because of his clothes. However that didn't seem to matter as much as his size and the sword at his hip. He was probably trained to use it too. You didn't doubt he could fight just as well as Bruce. You would have one shot to take him out.

The choreography had you turn away from him. When he couldn't see you grabbed a knife from the holster. Twirling back around, you flung it straight for his head. He caught it by the handle right in front of his throat. Too low. "Impressive. Going for a killing blow before I can start the fight."

The man step forward spinning the blade in his hand. You step back and began thinking of ways out. He stopped five feet away from you and tossed the dagger towards you. "Though your throwing form was off causing the blade to not have as much force. I can excuse that for the creativity of blending it with a dance."

"What?" You caught the dagger feeling it sink into your hand. You turned it subtly allowing the wound to heal.

The man nodded to your hand, "That also makes you intriguing. A girl capable of healing with great potential that needs only to be refined."

The climb up the cliff's edge was not a viable option. You could run into the sea, swim or just let yourself drown. Yet you couldn't judge if he was capable of swimming or if he would buy the fake death. If he came from the experiments he would know drowning didn't actually kill. There was no way out. The man gestured, "Get into a throwing position."

You paused, looking at him. Why did he want you to get into throwing position. If he was take you back than letting you fight him seemed useless. He tilted his head making his gesture again, "Do you not wish to learn?"

Slowly you got back into throwing position. He walked over to you. The first thing he did was kick your legs slightly further apart. Afterwards he made you bend your knees slightly. He than grabbed your hand, paused, and had you pull it back just a little further.

Once satisfied with the adjustments, he walked back to his spot 5 feet away. "Throw."

You did. This time he had to stop in front of his face. The throw felt more powerful and you had an easier time staying balance. With some minor adjustments he fixed a problem you hadn't fully realized you had. This allowed you to grab another blade and get in position quicker.

He smiled once more. "Again." You did, this time aiming for his throat. He caught the knife once more, nodding once again. The two of you practice knife throwing for a few minutes. In that short time he had you do underhand throws and side thows. He clapped after another successful throw, "Enough."

You were out of knives. He moved towards you again and handed the blades over to you. As he handed them to you, he started to speak. "Don’t fuss with the gun for right now. With a blade you are more dangerous to people not paying attention."

Once done he handed you an ornate blade. It was incredibly sharp with a blood red handle in the shape of spider lilies. The handle was a polished wood that shone in the moonlight. There was a sheath underneath the blade that could be strapped to your hip. "When next we meet I will show you how to use this blade efficiently."

"Where will we met again?"

"You'll know." He turned and left without another word. You grabbed Jason's gun before leaving yourself. The whole encounter felt like a dream.

Stephanie was physically watching Orphan's assigned target but mentally she was thinking about (Name). When she first arrived at the manor, she had been fed stories by Tim. Of how she stole his mask and yelled at him for replacing Jason. So as the next Robin she avoided the girl.

Than she became Batgirl for a brief sprint. Which made her made her more wearily about accidentally coming off as replacing Barbara. When she did try reaching out to the girl it was awkward. Plus the girl seem perfectly content living life without her barging in.

Steph had left her be figuring she had plenty of other siblings to bond with. There was no way in a manor full of people she was alone. Right?

God, now she just felt stupid. Assumptions really had made an ass out of her. Right now she was just waiting for the man to get off the phone with whoever he was talking to. After struggling to find anything beyond (Name)'s mother and she had switched task with Cass. The girl seemed more interested in doing the research anyway, so what was the harm.

She would finish investigating for the day, take a nap, than take the girl out somewhere. Maybe have a girls day with Barbara and Cass tagging along. Get their nails done, haircuts, bat burgers, maybe karaoke. Was any of that stuff (Name) was interested in? Whatever the girl had gone through was pretty traumatic, based solely on the breakdown Dick described. She deserved to have a fun day where they could spoiled her. Maybe she could take her rollerskating. Steph stopped her planning as the guy finished the phone. First they had to make sure these guys were handled.

Crashing through the window, Spoiler caught the guy off gaurd. He jumped reaching for a weapon. She grabbed his wrist and pinned him to wall. "Hey Matthew. Let's have a quick chat."

"Look, Whatever you're here for I didn’t do it." The guy, Matthew Jenkins, struggled against Spoiler's hold. He had worked with James and Marcus at a security firm two years ago before spontaneously quitting four days before (Name) disappeared. The same had occurred with two other man, Henry Duncan and Gregory Hartley. Signal had already reported that Henry was dead and had been for awhile. Maybe five or six days

"Oh, okay. So you have no contact to (Name) Wayne?" Spoiler pushed on his wrist a little harder making him cry out in pain.

"Who?"

"Playing dumb won't help you. I already know you were using her debit card to pull cash." They didn't actually know which of five man were pulling cash from the card. Based on video analysis there had be at least three of them making the pulls, so odds were good.

Matthew froze in Spoiler's hand, sucking in a breath. Looks like she was on the right track. "Shit, that girl really was a Wayne?"

Spoiler twisted his wrist just a little bit. He hissed through his teeth, "Yeah. Keep talking."

"Fuck. Look we didn't know exactly what they were doing to the kid. We just watched the room they kept her in and moved her to research room when asked. They usually carted her back when we were on lunch. It was just a good paying job and she never looked to badly hurt."

"How much were they paying you."

"Fithteen hundred a week." Matthew lightly banged his head against the wall, "Shit I should have tapped out when Henry did. I knew the girl was going to get us in more trouble than she was worth."

"Henry Duncan?"

"Yeah. Is he doing okay, we haven't heard from him since he stormed off the job?" Matthew shifted in Spoiler's grasp.

"He was found dead in ditch two hours ago. Marcus Antonio was found shot last night in his apartment." Matthew let out shocked breath and shook his head.

"We are fucked."

"Maybe not. If you answer all my questions I might be able to get you out of Gotham." It was a gamble but one Spoiler had to take. This guy could give her at least a location on where they held her and maybe who was paying them. Especially if three of them were dead. "First, you mentioned Duncan tapping out. What happened to make him leave?"

"They had said the testing was almost completed. They just had one last test to make sure everything was successful before we would know if we'd be getting raises or let go?" Matthew started. "We were informed to never look in the room unless instructed to."

"Henry didn't listen did he?" Spoiler let up on his wrist. He was more scared of these guys than her right now, better to let that fear keep him talking.

Matthew shook his head, "Henry didn't listen. After the final test he got curious because she was oddly quiet. We could usually hear her muttering to herself. He said she looked like a deflated balloon."

Matthew paused taking a deep breath. "We all looked. I don't know what they did but her chest had caved in on itself. There also something growing in her. Honestly I thought she was dead until she blinked. Henry lost it, said he wasn't going down for whatever they had done to her. We all almost walked out but James stopped us. If the last test was marked successful we'd each get a raise to five thousand dollars a week."

"You know what happened to James?"

"The kid killed him. She also took out Greg's eye with a fucking scalpel. No amount of money is that shit." Matthew banged his head to the wall.

Spoiler paused processing. Money was a huge motivation to this guy, so chances were he knew who was paying him. "Where was the money coming from? Not just for your paycheck either."

"The girl’s card and her tuition. Her dad was giving her fifteen thousand a week. They use that to buy a generator and some other shit to keep the building off grid. We would pull cash for them every once and a while but most of it came from the accountant. They would divert the kid's tuition to James, he paid us." That explained where the tuition was going.

"Who was in charge?" Spoiler needed a name. Sure she had a lot to rely back at the cave but she needed just a little more.

"I don't know." The pressure return to his wrist. Matthew started struggling, "I don't know, I work with some intern chick who took notes on girl's status and the accountant."

"Good enough. Give their names." Spoiler gave his wrist one last twist.

"The intern chick's name was Isabella, I never got a last name. Just heard a rumor that she was related to the big boss. The accountant was..."

"Mr. Davis, so glad to finally be able to meet you." The man zip tied to his office chair glared at you. After the training on the beach you discovered you still had five hours before anyone got back to the manor. Using the Gotham Subway you had gotten to Davis' office. Surprisingly the man was still there. Hurriedly packing files into a briefcase. You used the knife to keep him under control until you could zip tie him to the chair. The man had proven right, a knife was more powerful.

You glanced at the files. Documents approving a change in wiring numbers, written approval for changes to the limits on your checking account as a minor, and so much more. All incriminating with Bruce Wayne's signature on the bottom. You turned your gaze to Davis twirling a throwing knife in your hand. Sitting on his desk made you eye level with him, "Now what were doing with these?"

"Fuck you brat." His word turned into a cry of pain as you threw the knife. It cut a line across his cheeks.

Standing from his desk you walk towards him. Pulling the stranger's dagger from the sheath you held it over his hand, above the knuckle of his left thumb. "Let’s try again. What were doing with those files?"

"I'm not scared of a fucking ten year old." Of course. You were a baby faced ten year old. Who would be scared of you? If you wanted information from this man you had to scare him into giving it to you.

Pushing down on the blade, he started to scream. It took a minute find where the blade could cut through. Mangled his hand pretty bad but eventually his thumb came off. He slumped in the chair, panting. Was this how you looked when they cut off your body parts?

"Will you answer me now? I really don't want to have cut off another one." You picked up his severe digit, rolling it around in your palm. There was a disturbing calm in the violence. It was as if you could finally relax. Maybe the experiments had messed with your head more than you thought, "Well."

"Fine. I was told to destroyed them." Davis spat the words out inbetween harsh breaths. Finally information.

You lifted an eyebrow and set the thumb on his desk, "By who?"

"Clint Owen. He was my son's doctor." You began to think through the people you saw in the experiments. There were six scientists that would poke at you. Clint was probably one of them, especially if he was a doctor. They hadn't used names near you.

"What did he tell you about the experiments?" The more information the better, you needed to know what Bruce gained from this. Davis stayed silent. There was an intense staring contest between you two. Finally you sighed, "Okay, fine. Your ring or your pinkie? I'm thinking pinkie, personally."

"No, I'll tell you." Davis started to struggle in the chair as you walked closer. "Owens told me, it was a way to get organs for dying kids. That's all I know, he offered to give my son one of the kidneys."

"Really? You did all of this for a kidney?" At least you knew where your kidney was now. Wrong thing to focus on but your head was getting buzzy from the violence.

"He would have died without it." Davis shook his head. A part of you felt a little bad for cutting off his thumb. The man was just desperate to save his kid. Could you really blame him for that? "Beside, the Waynes needed to be taken down a peg. Why not remind those idiots their money can't do shit to save anyone, even their own? The little bitch had it coming."

Nevermind. You stabbed the knife through his right hand. He pissed himself, gross. You began talking over his screams "Did I ask for your shit rate opinions? No, I didn't. Stick to telling me the facts or your losing the hand. Who was involved in the experiments?"

"Three doctor's from the Martha Wayne Childern's Hospital, One researcher from Gotham U and his student assistant." He screamed the words at you. A part of you contemplated twisting the knife just because you could. When had you got so violent? Eh later problem.

"Names." You sounded bored even to your own. Maybe you should be concerned, how do you get here again?

"I don't know." The darker part of you won, twisting the blade in his hand. He started struggling again. "I'm telling the truth, I really don't know. They weren't on any payroll I had access to."

"Who's Sionis?"

"Black Mask. He provided the weapons for the guards." Oh that wasn't good. Black Mask was violent hopefully you could just ignore him as an ignorant arms dealer.

You paused looking him up and down. This wasn't a lot of information. Yes, you had a name and occupations for some of the scientists. There were also the documents showing Bruce Signed off on this. The paper proved he was involved by themselves. But than the take the Waynes down a peg comment didn't fit. "Who was on payroll?"

"Doesn't matter half of them are dead."

"Is that an opinion?" You removed the knife from his hand.

He paled and began pushing back in his chair, "James Lenon, Marcus Antonio, Henry Duncan, Gregory Hartley, Matthew Jenkins. They were the ones guarding the place. The first three are dead, the fourth guy left Gotham after losing his eye. Jenkins is the only one left in town."

Maybe you could get to Jenkins before he left. Than again those guys didn't seem to know much. You could hear them talking through the door at night. They nickname for the scientists and never talk much about the experiments other than supplies. What else could you get from him, "Who was in charge of the experiments?"

"Owens."

"Are you sure?" Davis paused. He gave you a wide eye pleading look while nodding. You looked out the window while trying to connect the pieces.

If Cass was the one who found 'the school' than you needed a connection between her and Owens. Of course Bruce wouldn't let someone like Davis know he was connected. With Davis's disgruntled attitude towards Bruce, he was likely state up to rat on the wrong people. With no clue about Bruce's real involvement it be easy to brush him off as a rouge accountant. Probably claim forgery on the signatures too.

"Well. I got everything I needed." You flipped the knife in your hand. Grabbing the briefcase you turned towards the door.

"Wait, you gotta let me go." Davis tried shuffling the chair. You looked towards him and considered. He could alert Bruce to your investigation.

You gave him a sheepish smile. "Right my bad." You walked behind him and the smile dropped. The next few moments blurred into your mind but than you were the fire escape. Holding a briefcase and changing into some clothes you had brought with you. Checking time you realized you had 3 hours to get back to the manor.

The rest of your investigation would be on hold until you were fully trained and they were lulled into a false sense of security.

Bruce starred at the body of his accountant. His hands had been mutilated and his throat slit. Written in his blood on the wall behind the body was, "Don’t Forget Me."

Both remaining gaurds had implicated Davis as the one that tranferred the tuition money to them. Said they didn't know names but faces of the scientists. Their last lead pointed to Davis as having more information. (Name) wouldn't tell them anything if they went by her interaction with Dick. Yet he was dead when they got here and all of his financial records had been thrown about the office be covered in blood. It seemed most of the ones on (Name) were missing either way.

The next best hope was to look into Meta Traffickers who went off the grid two years ago. Maybe they could look into doctors too since one was needed for that kind of experiment.

Bruce's eyes drifted to the words on the wall. There was no way they would forget this person. Not until who ever they were was behind bars for what they did to (Name). Bruce's hands drifted to the center pocket of his suit and pulled out a photo.

It was him holding (Name) as an infant. A broad smile on his face as he cradled the squirming infant. Looking back at the scene Bruce made a silent vow to not let the people who hurt her get away.

Prev Next

Taglist:

@stove-top96 @00hellohello00 @mysticalhills @yhin-gg @charlenexoxo1 @a-lurking-fae @moondust-clouds @darkumbreon92 @jsprien213 @bellethesleepypotato @time-shardz @randomlyappearingartist @kittzu @bat1212 @vanilliona @welpthisisboring @plsfckmedxddy @tulnukaz @eyeless-kun @daisy56789

[saltnsugarbear]

Lip with “Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” “Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” “…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.” 

so like on the low i ate this up

word count: 1.0k

content warnings: KAREN SLANDER IM SO SORRY (I don't like her but I hate slut shaming more) they don't enthusiastically consent but they're both into it I'm sorry 😔, so ig dubcon, oral (m!receiving) (don't ask for this ever again), Lip is kind of mean (the voices olive got to me on that one)

side note: don't expect any bj fics again cause I hate the idea of giving men head SORRY also I like triggered my own life apocalypse (got sick at work, power went out, etc)

come celebrate!

One of Lip's favorite things about you is your competitive nature. Not that he'd ever say that out loud, but it's one of the things that endeared him to you.

It made him like pushing your buttons even more.

So complaining while you actually work on your group project is the perfect way to annoy you today. However you've stopped paying him any mind, about three minutes into his griping. So he tries a new approach.

Bringing up his most recent conquests. So obviously that means he feels the need to mention Karen.

And the fact that instead of being tutored, she gave Lip head instead. The story makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head when he comments that it's probably the best blowjob he's ever gotten.

"It could not have been that good.." You scoff, trying to focus on finishing the sentence you're writing. "Actually, I take that back. Given how big of a slut she is, she's probably had plenty of practice."

"Oh fuck you-" Lip starts.

"Am I wrong?" You challenge him quickly, glaring up from your page.

"You're just pissed off you're not getting any." He sneers. You roll your eyes, you're not having this conversation with him.

Lip takes your silence as agreement, snickering lightly. "No wonder you're so uptight, you're not getting laid."

You have to bite your tongue to keep from retorting. He's fucking insufferable.

"Everything makes so much more sense now. Because I kept asking myself, y'know, why you're such a bitch. But it makes sense now, you're not getting away so you need to take your frustrations out another way."

"You're such a fucking asshole, Gallagher. You don't know shit about who I'm fucking." You snap at him, putting your pen down none too gently.

"Right, like anyone would be able to fuck you. Probably too fucking tight up there, can't even get a finger in you." Lip's look is gloating, like he's won some verbal sparring match.

You don't know why you're moving. Pushing out of your chair and tugging Lip's back. Lip sputters at the abruptness of your yanking, arms flying out for balance. Once there's enough space for you, you quickly step in between his legs before dropping down to your knees.

You're a little surprised at the small tent in Lip's slacks already, scoffing after you piece it together. "You get off on the sound of your own voice?"

"What? No. What are you-" You cut Lip's questioning off quickly, pushing yourself up to rest on your toes so you can easily rest your arm on his thigh as you press your palm against his half hard dick. Lip's words are muddled as you bully him through the fabric, fighting himself for some composure.

With one last squeeze, you bring both of your hands to his hips, pulling him forward until he's sitting at the very edge. You don't miss how he inhales sharply at your rough handling.

Once he's positioned better, you sit flat on your feet before looking up at him through your lashes and leaning forward, licking at his erection through his slacks. Lip groans as you continue to mouth at his cock, head falling back as you suck softly around the fabric.

Once you're satisfied with the wet patch you've made in his pants, you bring your hands to unbutton and unzip them before tugging them down slightly. Lip helps you out by lifting his hips up, letting drag them down past his knees. Your saliva bled through his pants, dampening his boxers where you had been teasing him.

Taking your time, you go back to mouthing at his erection. You can hear him shifting above you, glancing up to see him bring his hands around. Lip's hands are pushy as they hold the back of your head.

"Uh-uh.." You pull away from his bulge, catching his wrists before leaning forward and tucking them behind his back. "Those stay there."

"Fuck..." Lip mutters.

"Lift." You tap his hips as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Lip is a quick listener, lifting his hips up so you can tug his boxers down to his pants. He breathes out heavily when his cock springs free, hitting his stomach.

You're quick to take him in your mouth, sliding your tongue along the underneath of his length. There's a sense of pride as Lip struggles to form any words, the only things leaving his mouth a mix of whines and groans.

"Fuck, wait- shit-" Lip grunts as you sink back down to the base, glancing up at him with your nose brushing against his happy trail. "Mm- fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?"

You hum around his length, feeling how he twitches in your mouth before pulling all the way off.

"Well, the noises you're making are a pretty good indication of how you like it." You grin up at him, bringing your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.

"...God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it's turning me on even more." Lip's eyes are lidded as he looks down at you, watching as you slowly jerk him off. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back towards his cock.

"I liked you better when you could barely speak," you tell him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of him.

"Fuu- ughh.." Lip grunts as you suckle at his head. His hips buck up into your mouth, pushing himself farther in. You hum sharply, taking your hands away from his base and pushing back against his hips. Lip breathes heavily as you keep his hips in place, flicking your tongue over the slit before pressing gently at the underside of his head.

"Wait-" Lip chokes out, hips bucking up again. "Shit, shit- fuck-"

Lip's release is thick on your tongue and you're quick to open your mouth, letting him watch as his cum coats your tongue. Doing such makes Lip swear, another rope covering your tongue. You pull away from him, sticking your tongue out for him to see all of his release before making a show of swallowing it.

"Still think she gave you the best blowjob of your life?"

[copperhawks]

The funniest thing to me about Kel, and maybe one of the most interesting because of how understated it is, is that Kel becomes a good commander in the end, not by emulating Wyldon who was cold and implacable and insensitive, or by emulating Raoul who mostly only disobeys orders out of principle or because he has an issue with what the order says about his personal relationship with Jon, but by emulating JON.

Kel doesn't even LIKE Jon, she BARELY respects him as a person. He's a good enough ruler that she's willing to fight for him and swear loyalty to him and to at least mostly believe that he wouldn't work with Blayce to make his own killing monsters, but that's as far as it goes for Kel. If he's kind to her, she finds it uncomfortable and almost untrustworthy because she assumes he doesn't care about her and so his kindness and respect towards her must be fake.

But from the outside, as readers, we know just how much Jon fought for Kel. We know how much he does respect her right to be a knight. Jon is the sole reason that Kel DID get the opportunity to prove herself, if he'd capitulated to Wyldon completely, she just wouldn't have ever been allowed to join. Kel doesn't KNOW THAT, obviously, but we do. We know that Jon did everything he could to find a way to convince Wyldon to let Kel become a page. While Wyldon claims later that the reason he chose to let her stay at the end of the probation year was because his better judgment convinced him she'd earned it, I'd be willing to bet that part of that better judgment also included knowing if he couldn't prove to JON that she needed to go, then he'd be in trouble. Kel was training and working in front of plenty of other trainers and teachers who could easily contradict Wyldon's lies if he'd tried it, many of whom are closer to Jon than they are to Wyldon.

Kel's experiences and feelings about that experience are entirely valid, and she doesn't have the knowledge we do about how hard Jon fought for her, so it's not shocking that she's upset with him for a good portion of her series. She never even discovers this truth by the end of her series, even though she does get a lesson from Jon and Thayet (and Raoul to some degree) about how politics and compromises work in order to make changes happen. So her opinion of him by the end is boiled down to the quote from Squire: "good kings weren't always good men." It makes sense for her to think this, but because Kel's knowledge base is so limited (and her worldview so black and white for much of her series), it makes her an EXTREMELY unreliable narrator about this particular issue.

Kel believes that while Jon generally does his duty and keeps the peace, he doesn't actually care all that much about his people as individuals. But in their only meaningful conversation in Squire, Jon is able to point out that he (and Thayet, who is actually equal to Jon in power, something Kel either doesn't know which would be a failure in her education or just tends to ignore so she can focus her ire on Jon) has to make a LOT of compromises in order to get ANYTHING useful done at all. Sometimes, often, it means making deals with people he doesn't like or people he just fundamentally disagrees with, because it's the first step in a multi-step plan to help more people in the long run. He also points out that just throwing his weight and authority around in order to be able to change everything he wants to change immediately regardless of what anyone else thinks about it is a great way to get himself and his family killed. Because even if he had good intentions, that would be tyranny. It does make Kel think a little, but she doesn't tend to like him much still afterwards, her resentment from her page years will always color her opinion of him a little.

However, then she gets to Haven and she's suddenly tossed into a position of leadership over a lot of other people, many of whom disagree with each other or disagree with her or both. And all of the sudden, Kel has to make compromises. She doesn't LIKE the way the sergeants often treat their men, especially the sergeants whose men are convicts, but there's very very little she can do about it without really pissing off those same sergeants and that's not something she can afford to do. There's a moment when Neal starts getting frustrated about the treatment of the convicts and she takes him out to vent to her so he doesn't vent to the sergeants, something that the sergeants would then take out on their men. Kel's reasoning as she does this is that she "preferred to avoid battles with them now so she would have authority with them later if she needed to use it." Later, Kel is talking to Daine and she says "That's all this job is... Trying to please everyone and pleasing no one. And it will only get worse, not better."

Both of these moments showcase Kel choosing to make compromises. She may not like the way the sergeants treat the convicts, but she needs to stay on the sergeants' good sides because she doesn't have enough resources to butt heads with them nor enough authority to just force the issue, and even if she DID, it could cause the sergeants to become troublesome or take out their frustration with her on the men in ways she can't see as well. But staying on the sergeants' good sides might mean letting some of their maltreatment slide if it's not physically harming the convicts. And even setting that aside, she's dealing with nearly 500 refugees eventually, all of which are from different towns in the area and have different needs, not all of which she can accommodate. This requires compromise. Sometimes she can please some of them and not others, but mostly she probably just ends up not pleasing anybody because that's often how compromises WORK.

She never makes the active connection to Jon and his lesson on leadership from Squire while she's in Haven, but that quote up there about how this job (aka being a commander) is all about trying to please everyone and pleasing no one? It sounds a HECK of a lot like "good kings weren't always good men." You can try your best to help others, but often doing the right thing can involve making everyone unhappy. You can't be everybody's friend if you're going to get anything done.

Some of this she might've learned from Raoul's style of command, but Raoul commands a fairly small amount of people (at least in comparison to a King), and so we see him able to be pretty friendly to the people he commands in a way that Jon is perhaps unable to do. And she might believe that she learned some of this from Wyldon, but Wyldon had a tendency to be very unfair and biased due to his raging bigotry and conservative values, as well as the fact that he doesn't actually even LIKE being a training master and that likely impacted the way he treated the pages (he's almost never that kind to the pages, whereas we see him capable of being quite kind with the refugees later, which is where Kel comes to the conclusion that he hadn't enjoyed being a training master).

But Jon makes an entire speech about how he (and Thayet) have been working THEIR ENTIRE REIGN to change laws that help people. He explains how they have to consider the needs of merchants, nobles, farmers, street people, priests/priestesses, and mages. They have to consider not only what these people might need or want, but also what they could do when they feel sufficiently offended and how that could impact not just the royal family or the nobility but the realm as a whole. Jon points out that they HAVE made changes, for the better, and that just because they don't always succeed at everything or because they have to compromise sometimes, doesn't mean they aren't working at making changes or that they don't care about helping people. Not everyone you have power over is going to be your friend, they might not even be someone you like. But if you're going to take on the job of leadership, that's something you have to be willing to accept and work with, which often means making compromises with people whose needs and values are contradictory to your own.

Jon probably knows when he makes the compromise with Wyldon that it will likely impact a lot of people's good opinion of him. Alanna is right there and clearly angry, and we know Thayet doesn't like the decision, either. And it's entirely possible that Jon knows in the moment that Kel herself will put the blame on him because he's the King. But he also knows that if he insists on Kel being allowed to be a page without trying to compromise with Wyldon, Wyldon will quit over it and he'll end up with ten DIFFERENT problems that could cause a lot bigger issues to far more people than just one girl. So he makes the compromise. He sacrifices Alanna and Thayet and even Kel's good opinion of him in order to ensure that Kel gets the opportunity to become a Knight without turning all of his nobles against him which could ultimately lead to a civil war. Is it fair? No, and he knows it. But it's the best option he has in order to get the outcome they all actually want which is just for Kel to have the chance to prove herself.

Kel has to make similar choices once she's finally in a position of leadership of her own. And whether she realizes it or not, without ever even spending more than a few minutes with Jon, she ends up emulating his leadership style more than anybody else's because it WORKS and it works WELL. She'll probably never admit it, she might never even realize it herself, but she's so much more like Jon than any of the other men she sees as role models. And I love that. I love the dramatic irony of that, that the one person Kel only barely respects because of a compromise he made on her behalf that she'll never even know about, is the person Kel ends up most resembling. Jon is the reason she has the opportunity to become the Protector of the Small in the first place, Jon is the person who created that environment that allowed her to nurture those values, and she'll probably never even really be able to acknowledge that, because sometimes that's what being a good leader means.

[just-aake]

Detecting Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Words: 6169

You have the power to detect lies. 

Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 

Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.

People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.

And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 

Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.

Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.

There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.

There was no cheating.

There was no fighting.

It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.

That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.

It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.

These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.

Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 

It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 

And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 

You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.

At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.

With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.

Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 

Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.

She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.

“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.

She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.

She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”

Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.

The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.

“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”

Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 

“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.

Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.

However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 

A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.

There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.

Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.

“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”

You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 

Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.

Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.

Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.

Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.

A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.

“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.

Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 

You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.

Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.

Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 

“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.

At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.

Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.

“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”

Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.

“You’re lying.”

Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 

The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.

“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 

At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.

However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 

As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 

When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.

The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 

What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.

Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.

“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”

She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.

“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”

After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 

Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.

You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.

“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.

She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”

“How did you…?”

She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 

Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.

Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 

After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.

“I told you yesterday,” she replies.

You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.

“Remind me again.”

Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 

“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”

Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”

“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”

Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.

So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”

A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.

But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.

“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 

“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.

Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 

“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 

“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”

Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.

If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.

Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“Fine, what do you know?” 

Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 

Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.

As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.

“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.

Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”

“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.

Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 

The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.

“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 

The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 

If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.

After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.

“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”

Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 

“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”

“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.

“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”

From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.

However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 

Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”

Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.

“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 

You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”

“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”

“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”

Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 

For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.

After a moment, you break the silence this time.

“So, what’s the job?” 

Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.

“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”

“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 

“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”

At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.

“That’s confidential.”

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.

“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”

Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.

“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”

“People like you?” 

“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”

You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.

“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”

A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.

Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.

Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.

“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”

At her words, you pause to consider your options. 

A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 

Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.

Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 

You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.

At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 

“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”

“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.

A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.

You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 

Still, the impact has you stumbling back.

“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”

A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 

You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.

Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 

At least you used to.

This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.

With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.

You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.

“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.

Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.

“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.

“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”

Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.

“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.

“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.

It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.

Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.

Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.

Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.

You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.

Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 

After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.

However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.

Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.

But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.

With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.

Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.

“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.

Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.

Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.

“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."

Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.

“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.

“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”

Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.

Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”

“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.

Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”

You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.

She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”

You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.

But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”

You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.

“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“What’s this?”

Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.

She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.

Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.

“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”

Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 

As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.

You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.

Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 

“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.

After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.

Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.

“No, of course not,” you tell her.

As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.

After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.

“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.

Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course, I will.”

Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.

After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.

A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.

A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.

To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 

“I’m in love with her…”

Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.

“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.

Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.

She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”

You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.

“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”

Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.

Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.

“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”

There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.

“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”

You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.

“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.

You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”

“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”

She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”

Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 

“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”

She swats your hand away.

“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”

A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.

“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.

“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.

Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.

“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.

Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.

Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 

A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 

With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.

"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"

The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.

Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.

However, now comes the final question of the interview.

“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”

Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 

Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.

“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”

After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."

Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.

"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.

As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.

With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.

“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.

Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.

You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”

Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.

“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.

“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.

Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.

“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.

Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."

"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.

"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.

Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.

“Name?” you begin.

Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.

“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.

“Natalie,” you mock.

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.

Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.

“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.

“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.

“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”

This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."

As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.

By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.

"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.

Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.

“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.

After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.

“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.

“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.

“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.

Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.

“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.

You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.

“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.

“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.

Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.

Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.

Summoning your courage, you face her directly.

“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.

“...would you say ‘yes��� if I asked you out on a date tonight?”

There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.

Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“No,” her voice responds to your question.

Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.

As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.

I’ll pick you up tonight. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 2

a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.

[enanansbbg]

Anhane’s relationship, and it’s complexity:

this was originally uploaded onto twt, but I wanted to reupload it here because I was very proud of this analysis, so please enjoy and feel free to add anything I may have missed or skipped over!

With that being said, here we go! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

Let’s start with the basics. The pure power of their aibouness, and its connections to vivid street.

To begin, you must understand what a partner is in VBS terms. In this case, it’s ‘a person who brings out parts of you never knew existed’.

In relations to Anhane, this is based off pure raw emotions. This is shown through An’s abandonment issues and Kohane’s want to make her heart pound.

Kohane wants to recreate that feeling she felt when she first heard An singing inside of An, to ‘make her heart pound’, while An’s abandonment issues cause her to fear Kohane’s rapid growth may lead to Kohane abandoning her.

This also plays into a certain factor about Kohane and the idea of her and angst, I believe.

Many people want Kohane to have some kind of angst event, especially related to her backstory, but that would go against all her motives.

See, Kohane’s pure movies for pursuing music—for working to surpass Rad Weekend all tie back to An. It was hearing An singing at WG that made her heart pound and An asking her to be her singing partner that caused her to even consider music as an option.

From here, their relationship develops into a lot more, and it’s when the idea of partners ‘bringing out an ugly side of you’ comes to play.

You can see even in the maim story An not seeing Kohane as an equal. It only gets called out and resolved in Singing in Sync.

Singing In Sync, ep. 1 and 3

🎧: “In the unlikely event that something does go wrong, I’ll cover for you and get you back on track, okay?”

…

🎧: “I failed as her partner…I couldn’t protect her…

…

🎧: “I mean, she’s my partner…And I wanted to guide her so that she could sing without worrying…”

…

🥞: “You don’t think of Kohane as one of the team.”

An telling Kohane “I’ll protect you if you mess up” subconsciously puts the idea into Kohane’s head “I’m not good enough, so I’ll probably mess up” This is what caused the entire issue in SIS to begin with.

But it’s once An tells her “you can protect me too” that Kohane is able to subconsciously think “I have the power to make her heart pound too”

Singing in Sync, ep. 8

🎧: “If I miss a cue at the next event…”

🎧: “Could you cover for me?”

🐹: “An… Sure, I can do that!”

After this we get Awakening Beat. Kohane is able to come out of her shell and fully adapts the idea “I can make her heart pound too” and has a large boost in confidence because of it. An both brought her confidence down and back up in the spam of one rotation.

Awakening Beat, ep. 8

🎧: (“It’s like she’s not even the Kohane I know. Could this be because she’s completely resolved herself?”

🎧: (“But even with just that, she can really change this much…?”)

However….In the same event, An’s insecurities begin to bloom and in Bout for Beside You, An has to face them for the first time.

Awakening Beat, ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 4

🎧: (“I was just gonna tell her she did amazing… That I never knew she could sing that amazingly, but…”

🎧: (“What’s going on? I just can’t get the words out—”)

…

🎧: “Kohane is…going to leave me behind?”

Here, An realizes her and Kohane ‘perfect’ relationship is more complicated now. While Kohane’s adapted the idea of “I want to make her heart pound”, An opens to idea of “I wont he able to make her heart pound anymore” (they doki doki more than ddlc i swear)

At the end of the event, An ask Kohane the golden question. “If I were to leave somewhere far away, would we still sing together?”

BFBY, ep. 8

🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”

🎧: “And I wanted to reach greater heights just like what Uncle Taiga did exploring the world. If I were to go to someplace even greater and far far away from here—”

Of course, Kohane affirms this. Naturally, Kohane takes a lot of pride in being An’s partner, being the only partner for her. (as said in ORS) She wants to keep singing with An forever.

BFBY, ep. 8

🐹: “Even so, I would want to keep singing with An-chan!”

🐹: “No matter where you go or what you become, I’d still want to be with you!”

🐹: “I want to properly stand beside you and sing with you!”

We’re gonna skip ahead a bit and jump up to KIUAN, where we get our lovely “She looks like Nagi-san” line, the line that killed every Anhane shipper in the tristate area.

But what makes this line so special? Well, for that let’s discuss what made Nagi’s death (and the lie surrounding it) so impactful.

Nagi was someone An looked up to highly. So, when she was suddenly told that Nagi moved, not even saying goodbye, to pursue her music career, it left a mark on An. Added to the fact that Nagi wasn’t returning An’s messages or calls, just completely disappeared.

Now, looking to Bout for Beside you and KIUAN, you can see the importance of these lines. An fears that Kohane will improve so much that she leaves without a word, never talks go her again and just moves on. It’s why she looks so distressed.

VOT ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 8, KIUAN ep. 7

🎧: “…Aww. I wonder what Nagi-san is doing over in America? I wish she’d give us a call at least.”

🎧: “Ah! Maybe I’ll send her a text then! I wonder if she’ll be surprised~?”

…

🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”

…

🎧: “…She looks just like Nagi-san…”

And, it’s why she can’t even believe Kohane when she says just how important An is to her, how much she loves her and wants to sing with her because Nagi said the same thing and now Nagi is gone.

This manages to reach a resolve in WTWG, where An ‘fights’ Kohane, takes all those raw emotions out in a healthy way, through her song.

An’s card in WTWG is more than just ‘An takes her anger out on Kohane’, because in truth that’s not entirely what she’s doing. Instead, it’s An’s raw emotions taking form.

An wants Kohane to grow, she wants Kohane to thrive fully, but that fear of abandonment—Fear that Kohane will leave and never speak to her again makes her want to hold her close and never let her go anywhere.

So what about Kohane?

Well, starting with thr WTWG card/story, Kohane wants to be An’s best partner. As she states, ‘to make An’s heart pound’.

So, to be vulnerable here is to accept all of An’s raw emotions. Let her lean on her and feel everything because to Kohane, that makes her a worthy partner.

She says over and over throughout the fight that An is amazing, that she wants to be like her, how much it makes her heart pound. Really, it reminds me of Kohane’s colorfes story.

WTWG, ep. 7

🐹: (“An-chan…really is amazing.”)

🐹: (“…Whenever I hear An-chan sing, it really makes my heart pound like nothing else. It makes me wish I could sing like her.”)

In it, Kohane goes to Vivid Street, but everyone thinks she’s An. This happens after she thinks about what it would be like to be An, but only going through this dream does she realize that she doesn’t want to be An, she wants to be her. She wants to be An’s partner.

Colorfes Kohane ep. 1 and 2

Record Store Onee-san: “You caught me off guard, using polite like that, An-chan!”

🐹: (“Did she just say An-chan…?”)

…

🐹: (“—An-chan’s so cool and strong…and there’s times I wish I could be like her…”)

🐹: (“I have to be me! Because—”)

🎧: “—Y’know, I was thinking, your singing is always so amazing, Kohane.”

🎧: “Whenever I hear your singing, it makes my heart race. The tension rises, and it makes me feel like I have to start singing right now!”

🐹: (“Because I’m An-chan’s partner—!”)

And to be An’s partner, is to drag all those raw, vertical emotions out of An, just like she does in WTWG.

In conclusion, Anhane explosion their relationship is so complex and strong and I love it

[angelltheninth]

Loved the Avatar imagines! Could you do them reacting to their S/O putting their leg up while kissing? With same group of characters as before.

I love when that happens!

Pairing: Sokka, Zuko, Korra, Asami Sato, Bolin, Mako x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, cuteness overload, kissing, teasing

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I get all giddy when I see that happen, especially if it's between my favorite ships. Enjoy, comment, reblog, all that good stuff.

SOKKA

Notices you putting your leg up so he does it too, mirroring you perfectly. It's not to tease you or make fun of you at all, he just thought the gesture was a cute one so he wanted to do it too. From then on he did it every time the two of you kissed each other. Even if it was in front of all of your friends, since it means they know he likes kissing you very much.

ZUKO

Chuckled when he was that your leg was still in the air when your lips parted from him. Since that's the case you must have really been caught up in that kiss. If anything he finds it very flattering that his kisses, small as that single kiss was, has that much power over you. He would never tell you not to do something that makes you happy, don't be embarrassed for it.

KORRA

Thought you were about to fall over so her arms tightened around you, leading to a deeper kiss than it was initually. Not that you minded that and melted into it easily, holding her closer too. Later you had to explain why you popped your leg up like that and that it was sign of you enjoying the kiss. Ah, well you could have just said so, she was worried for a moment.

ASAMI

Was the first one who did it, quickly followed by you and neither of you noticed until you broke the kiss. Both of you looked at each other and started laughing at how silly you must have looked. Hopefully no reporters passed by right then and took a picture. As a CEO she wasn't so lucky because the next day thay very picture was on the front page of the newspapers.

BOLIN

Picked you up and spun you around when he saw your leg popped up behind you. Being the romantic that he is he always dreamed of making someone have that reaction to his kiss. Now you made his romantic dreams come true and he couldn't be happier. However since this is him he will also occasionally tease you about it, and hope that he gets to see you do it again.

MAKO

Knew he could make you swoon easily but he didn't realize it was to that extent. A smile spread against his lips, still pressed against yours before he pulled away and pointed out the gesture. He doesn't really see himself doing the same, he's not the type but you can do that all you want. In fact it would be very helpful if you did, that way he knows his charm works.

[utilitycaster]

I think the fallacy that Downfall/Divergence lays bare is that again, Brennan is not simply a Capitalism And Power Bad guy (and indeed, it's fundamentally impossible to play D&D as Power Inherently Bad - it simply does not support that thesis and indeed actively works against it as a game system, regardless of how you feel about the nature of power in real life. It is also pretty much impossible to play as Violence and Murder Inherently Bad, and I think many analyses of actual play fail when people try to act like it could be played as such). The consistent message is that exploitation and failure to care for those less powerful, and a refusal to change, is the problem. And I think that Aeor and Marlath ultimately serve a similar purpose within these narratives.

The truth of the matter is that Aeor and Marlath are negatively affected by the greater powers within the context of the Calamity. While Aeor has consistently been described and portrayed as an isolationist, authoritarian, and warmongering city-state during the Age of Arcanum and early Calamity, presumably circumstances were more preferable to them during a time of terrestrial abundance, even if they were not themselves farming. Whether or not Aeor's response to the Calamity was justified is a matter of debate; but it is undeniable that they were genuinely scared of the gods. Similarly, Marlath was an opportunistic bureaucrat even before he sold others out (and was not rewarded), but he was still living under the tyranny of the Strife Emperor himself, serving as a cog in the machine because it was preferable to the alternative. Fear was the motivation for him as well, as it is for many who become part of an authoritarian regime.

The mageocracy of Aeor and Marlath's actions caused others concern; but both had opportunity to change for the better. Both failed. They may have again been acting from fear and trauma; but in doing so showed them as entities who would sell out the weakest in their community for their own benefit. Aeor focused not on medicine nor helping their fellow Exandrians, but on weaponry and persecution. Marlath's skills in inventory could have been a boon to a resource-limited community, but he chose exploitation. Selena could have kept her knowledge to herself and at least, in her last moments, tried to save her city if not her creation. She did not.

Within the context of the narrative, the destruction of Aeor and the cutting out of Marlath's tongue are not, in my opinion, joyful triumphs. I may cheer the latter - it is in many ways a victory, unlike Aeor which can only be framed as tragic, and also, crucially, it's pretend - but this is someone who was given multiple chances! Hell, maybe Fiedra didn't make the right choice - not that Marlath didn't need to be stopped (as much was said on Cooldown) but maybe there was, in this case, a nonviolent option. However, it's hard to condemn Fiedra either; she nearly died in the woods and was saved by this camp, and to see someone she stuck her neck out for and suffer with for over a week not just plan this exploitation, but assume she'd be in it on it, is a hard pill to swallow.

And so too in that way do Aeor and Marlath serve as turning points for the people who doomed them. The Prime Deities immediately decide to remove themselves from Exandria as soon as they can seal away the Betrayers again, taking no joy in what they've done. Fiedra tells Nez that she and her gang will be protectors, at risk to themselves, after a lifetime of being survivors at times at the expense of others. They change where others couldn't.

I think a lot of people like to assign D&D villains concepts and epithets, like Capitalism or Imperialism or Landlord or Religion, because it feels very good to destroy these things, and very bad to realize that to destroy them is to cut out the tongue of someone who may have escaped the same horrors as you and crossed the same wilderness. Most people do wish this change will come without "danger, fear, or risk on their part" and are dismayed to find there is not a bloodless option. The BBEG isn't just an avatar of capitalism: they are a person who keeps choosing it and won't listen to signs and speeches to change their ways. Similarly, the hero is not just the person who stops them; they are the person who realizes that they themselves are not without their own ways to change.

[thewertsearch]

JOHN: are you sure you can't make it go any faster? JOHN: i mean, not to sound too demanding, but… JOHN: didn't you say you can teleport stuff? JOHN: why not teleport us there? JADE: i cant! JADE: not here, at least

I thought as much. Jade's powers probably don't work in the Furthest Ring, because if they did, she could have brought Rose, Dave and the trolls to this Prospitian ship during Cascade. Her teleportation is probably limited to contiguous areas of conventional space, and the Hussieverse is anything but conventional.

JADE: becs powers draw from the green sun JADE: and the green sun presides over our universe JADE: many universes actually! and the sessions that created them, as well as the sessions created within them JADE: including the trolls universe and their session JADE: think of it like a giant solar system, but instead of planets revolving around the sun, there are many universes

Back when Rose was outlining the Tumor plan to Dave, I referred to the Green Sun as a core of reality - and it seems that's even more true than I thought.

In addition to powering the First Guardians' magic, the Sun also serves as the metaphysical nexus point of all Sburb-generated universes, as well as their associated sessions. Since we've never been given any reason to believe that non-Sburb universes exist, the Sun appears to 'preside' over all possible universes.

It almost sounds like the Sun is reality - and its creation was masterminded by Doc Scratch. The more you think about it, the worse it gets.

JADE: so, bec was able to teleport anywhere in the universe he wanted in an instant, much faster than light JADE: jack was able to do this too, within our session, and then when i inherited those powers from jadesprite, so could i JADE: but we could only teleport locally JADE: which means, bec could jump to anywhere in our universe, but not to another universe, or into a session JADE: and jack could jump to anywhere in our session, but not outside it

In other words, First Guardians can only teleport to locations they could physically travel to, from their current position.

During Cascade, for example, Jade could teleport to anywhere in her session, but it was impossible for her to reach other sessions, because those sessions didn't have a consistent physical location relative to her own. Similarly, Bec could teleport from Earth to anywhere else in his universe, but not into sessionspace, for the same reason an observer on Earth couldn't point towards a Sburb session. They're on different planes entirely.

tl;dr: to reach a given location via Space, Jade needs a well-defined direction to move in...

...and since moving to another session involves Furthest Ring travel, no such direction exists.

JADE: we cant even jump to the green sun itself, even though we sort of serve as a gateway to it, and all its energy

This, I believe, is the one notable exception to the rule above.

No matter where they currently are, a First Guardian can always open a portal to the Green Sun.

It doesn't sound like they can enter this portal themselves, though. Well, I suppose that makes sense - after all, they are the portal, and you can't move through your own body.

Could Jade reach into that portal, and fetch someone from the Sun, though? I suppose if that was possible, Jack would've just pulled Aradia right back out again, so I think the portal is completely inaccessible to the Guardian who embodies it.

JADE: and once we leave the suns domain, our travel is limited by the speed of light, like everyone else! JADE: for example, the furthest ring is not in the suns domain JADE: it is more like the suns medium, allowing it to exist

The Sun's domain includes, at minimum, every Sburb session in existence, alongside every universe they've produced. The Ring, however, can't be a domain, because it's not really part of conventional reality.

Yes, it may be the scaffolding on which reality is built, but the scaffolding is not part of the building.

[felassan]

Original post:

amirdrassil: "datamined veilguard character descriptions google doc is now complete. i've even organised all the characters into their respective factions and added a clickable table of contents!! yippee!!! [link]" [source]

Please note that this work and document resource was put together by amirdrassil on Twitter! they kindly gave me permission to cross-post it here. 🙏

DA:TV spoilers and long post under cut.

VEILGUARD DATAMINED CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS These are all taken directly from the game files; wherever a character had interesting additional information such as accent, age range, or appearance, I’ve also included it.

GODS & SPIRITS

RETURNING CHARACTERS

COMPANIONS

CROWS

VEIL JUMPERS

WARDENS

SHADOW DRAGONS

LORDS OF FORTUNE

MOURN WATCH

KAL-SHAROK

MISCELLANEOUS

UPDATE (19/11/24): Added Teia, Viago, Anaris, Aelia, Hezenkoss and Rana.  (Thank you to @/ZILVYR on Twitter for finding these ones!) I did my best to look through the files as thoroughly as I could, but if you find any more I missed, feel free to DM me on Twitter (@amirdrassil) and I’ll add them with thanks. :-)

I’m adding a disclaimer here, because I’ve seen a lot of people treat these datamined descriptions as absolute canon. Many of them are remnants of scrapped or altered storylines, meaning that they no longer align with the finalised story that the game presents.  Please take everything you read here with a grain of salt, and where the game’s content itself directly contradicts the datamining, the former should always take precedent over the latter. At least as far as “canon” goes! And of course, it goes without saying, but please don’t use any of this datamining as an excuse to be mean to anyone; please understand that game development is a lot of hard work, and storylines are scrapped all the time as writers get new ideas or are faced with inevitable roadblocks from the game system side of things! No matter what, Veilguard was made with love. Anyways, feel free to use any of this as fuel for fanfiction, fanart, headcanons, or just healthy discussions about what the game might’ve been.  Thank you very much, sorry for rambling and please enjoy!! :-)

GODS & SPIRITS

SOLAS AGERANGE: 40 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Solas, from the previous game. (Some characters also have a TTS voice assigned to them, and Solas’s is “PeterSad22k_HQ”, which makes me laugh/cry, as no other major character so far has had their TTS voice specified as being the “sad” variant.) ELGAR’NAN AGERANGE: 99 ACCENT: British Isles; an ancient contemporary of Solas. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Ancient elven god-king. Blighted. GHILN’NAIN AGERANGE: 35 ACCENT: British Isles; an ancient contemporary of Solas CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Ghilan'nain is our sinister Mad Scientist god. Analytical and curious, she uses magic to mutate people into powerful but disturbing forms. She often lists things in a clipped fashion, cataloguing as she sees. She's obsessed with experimenting on all kinds of living beings, viewing everyone (except her fellow god, Elgar'nan) as potential "stock". She's pitiless about her work—Ghilan'nain will happily slice open a hundred people for parts—but is not purposefully sadistic. It's nothing personal. She can be angered, however, by people interfering in her plans. When she is, rage runs cold. Some backstory: Ghilan'nain is an ancient, now corrupted, elven god. She rose to power thousands of years ago by creating living wonders, and had the distinction of being the only mortal elf uplifted into the pantheon. She embraced the corrupting power of a force called the blight in order to improve her magic, and has been unalterably twisted by it over the centuries. BETRAYAL OF FELASSAN CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A powerful undead born from Solas's regrets and betrayals (in this case, Solas's murder of his friend Felassan by stabbing him in the back).

FALL OF THE PROTECTOR CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A powerful undead born from Solas's regrets and betrayals (in this case, the death of Mythal). SLAUGHTER OF THE PILLARS CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A powerful undead born from Solas's regrets and betrayals (in this case, the murder of the Titans). SPIRIT OF PROFIT CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Spirit of Profit who has set up shop in the Crossroads. They are friendly, but very single-minded and tend to speak in one or two word sentences, mostly about profits. SPEECHPATTERN: Simple, clear expressions of intent. This merchant is a spirit with a singular mind (i just thought this one was neat!) GENERAL FELASSAN AGERANGE: 40 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The second in command of a resistance army. You've an elf who's fought against the tyranny of your gods, cruel despots who've enslaved your people. You're practical, level-headed, and have good sense for what other people are feeling, which makes you well-suited for your role. Your leader is an elf called Solas, a powerful mage who isn't quite the people person you are. You respect him, and are there to help him with whatever he needs - especially when he needs guidance about being the face of a resistance. THE CARETAKER SPEECHPATTERN: Simple, mysterious, with a sense of vast wisdom and power ARCHETYPE: Angel / otherworldly helper who gives the player what they truly need, not necessarily what they think they want. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A mysterious masked and cloaked spirit. They are patient, otherworldly, and helpful... in their own way. The Caretaker is the guardian of the Lighthouse, a magical shelter. Unknown to the player, the Caretaker is what remains of a truly ancient dragon, who long ago took on the form of this spirit. Underlying their patient and otherworldly nature is a sense of strength. The Caretaker was summoned centuries ago by ancient elves, the original builders of this place. Now it has new inhabitants: the player and their friends. You're guiding them through the mysteries of the Lighthouse, but do not give any straight answers. It's important to you they bridge the gap themselves. NOTE: The Caretaker is referred to as they/them because they're a supernatural entity (as opposed to the more normal human non-binary characters in the game.) We'd like a feminine voice to differentiate them from some of the other spooky/mysterious spirits in the game who sound masculine (e.g. Vorgoth.)

SPIRIT OF CHAOS CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A spirit of chaos and freedom, unleashed by Solas to break through a labyrinth to his ally Mythal. SPIRIT OF NEED CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A spirit heavily implied to be the Caretaker in another era, speaking with Solas about the attempt to rescue Mythal. Speaking with the spirit, Solas makes it clear that he will sacrifice anything to save Mythal. ANARIS AGERANGE: 35 (no other info except what’s in cyrian’s description) XENON THE ANTIQUARIAN CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A nobleman who made a deal for immortality which did not include eternal youth, Xenon is the master of the Black Emporium, a shop selling curiosities from his personal collection of magical items.

RETURNING CHARACTERS

THE INQUISITOR AGERANGE: 30 APPEARANCE: Inquisition uniform under a long cloak with hood. ARCHETYPE: Relatable leader and mentor CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Inquisitor, the protagonist from DA:I. Confident, knowing, they are still the head of a powerful organization, but now act in a mentor role. They would bring too much attention if they get personally involved, so they are looking for the right people to act for them. CHARTER AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A returning character from DA:I, Charter serves as Rook's link to/mouthpiece of the Inquisitor and what's left of the Inquisition. VARRIC CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Varric! DORIAN CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: It’s Dorian! MORRIGAN AGERANGE: 40 SPEECHPATTERN: Morrigan-y. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Returning character from previous games. ISABELA AGERANGE: 50 APPEARANCE: Well-aged but perfectly maintained warrior gear for close and brutal fighting. Two possible appearances, depending on how the player resolves her past: 1. Dark black dyed hair 2. Red hair with streaks of grey CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Isabela from Dragon Age II

COMPANIONS

HARDING AGERANGE: 29 ARCHETYPE: Girl-next-door CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Scout Lace Harding, from Inquisition. It's been almost a decade and Harding's a little older and wiser, but she still thinks of herself as the simple country girl from Ferelden. Harding is cheerful and friendly, and always tries to be positive. She is kind, warm and compassionate, quick to laugh and slow to anger. EMMRICH AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Follower - will have an audition script. MANFRED CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: An undead skeleton that serves as Emmrich's faithful assistant and companion. Manfred is curious, loyal, innocent, and wants to be helpful. He doesn't speak at first, only replying in hisses that express his mood. Over the course of the game, however, as he learns more, Manfred eventually surprises everyone by speaking in short, one or two word sentences. ASSAN (listed as “GRIFFON”) CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Davrin's griffon. A VO character so he can squawk and screech during banter and ambients. LUCANIS AGERANGE: 36 ACCENT: Hint of Italian, but not as strong as Zevran's. (He is from a coastal city in Antiva, which had an influx of Tevinter refugees from Seheron after the Qunari invaded 100 years or so ago. That’€™s why he looks and sounds different from Zevran and Josephine.) APPEARANCE: Lean, sinewy, handsome, but haunted Antivan human man. Mid thirties. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Once the heir to the First Talon and the Antivan Crows' best mage killer, Lucanis now bears scars both physically and mentally from his time as a brainwashed executioner for an evil mage cult. No longer the pragmatic assassin always in control, he wrestles with becoming what he’s spent his life hunting: a demon-possessed abomination. He longs to return to his former glory, but the monster inside him demands blood and vengeance. With his future hanging in the balance, Lucanis must decide whether to give into the demon or control it.

DAVRIN (he doesnt have anything aaaaa) BELLARA (she doesnt have anything either aaaaaaaaaa) NEVE AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A mage who knows the streets of Minrathous, Neve helps investigate crime in Tevinter's capital. Hired by Varric to assist in the fight against Solas, Neve brings her unique blend of time and ice magic, along with her investigative skills, to the team. Neve is clever and driven, with a dry-but-playful sense of humour. She can be cynical about the world - especially Minrathous - but she believes in doing the right thing herself and has a strong sense of duty. TAASH CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Taash is a Qunari agent with a specialization in infiltration -- a thief, basically. She can scale buildings, pick locks, and take out enemies with quick and brutal efficiency. She is also blunt and laconic -- more likely to answer with a single word than give you a big long monologue. She's not grumpy as much as badass deadpan -- she doesn't trust people in general, and she doesn't like thinking or talking about her feelings, but she believes in what she does. (Taash correctly has the “NonBinary” gender tag, but unfortunately the CharacterDescription field misgenders them. However, it also seems there are some things here and there that changed in early development, like the Qunari agent thing.)

CROWS

TEIA AGERANGE: 28 ACCENT: Italian/Spanish SPEECHPATTERN: Warm APPEARANCE: Elven female, mid to late twenties CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Passionate, showy, hot-blooded, flirtatious, and arrogantly confident. Teia believes she's a celebrity athlete who will die gloriously before she gets old and live forever in song. She has no guilt about being an assassin, and thinks anyone who judges her for it just doesn't understand how things work in Antiva, or indeed anywhere in the world where powerful men play games. Abandoned as a child, she has a soft spot for the downtrodden. VIAGO AGERANGE: 32 ACCENT: Italian/Spanish SPEECHPATTERN: Formal, hint of snobbiness APPEARANCE: Human male, early thirties RACE: Human (Brazilian) CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Calm, ambitious, and ruthless, Viago is the bastard son of the late King of Antiva. As a high-ranking member of the Crows, Viago has just as much influence as the Monarchy, but he still resents the fact that he is not a legitimate heir and feels his birthright was stolen from him. Beneath his cool exterior is a lot of anger and frustration. He will not be satisfied until he sits upon a throne. ILLARIO AGERANGE: 35 SPEECHPATTERN: Charming but with a hint of smarminess. ACCENT: Italian APPEARANCE: Ativan pretty boy CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Antivan pretty boy. Mid 30's. Illario is a power hungry assassin who cares only for himself. On the surface, he is a fun-loving, upperclass Antivan with a weakness for wine, duels, and gambling. But beneath that shallow facade is a calculating, ambitious man with grand plans for the Crows.

SPITE SPEECHPATTERN: Taunting, sing-songy, creepy CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The demon trapped inside Lucanis's head. Spite was once a Spirit of Passion drawn to Lucanis's will to live, but years of torture and a desire for revenge has twisted him into a Demon of Obsession. CATERINA AGERANGE: 80 ACCENT: Italian/Spanish APPEARANCE: Older Korean-Spanish or Korean-Italian woman (from the same region as Lucanis). Can easily play the part of both sweet grandmother and mafia boss. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Godmother of the Antivan Crows. Sassy, ruthless older woman of power, who will do anything for the success and protection of her family/house. ZARA AGERANGE: 35 APPEARANCE: Beautiful human mage. Mid 30’s. SPEECHPATTERN: Soft and teasing with a Tevinter accent. Upperclass, so formal, but not cold. More of a sensual snob than an ice queen. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A vain, hedonistic Tevinter Magister, who uses the blood of her slaves to stay young and beautiful. She is Lucanis's nemesis and is the one responsible for forcing a demon inside his head. CALIVAN AGERANGE: 55 SPEECHPATTERN: Formal, snide CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Calivan is the prison warden in charge of the Ossuary. He is as cruel as he is curious and likes to experiment on his inmates with blood magic. GOVERNOR IVENCI AGERANGE: 45 SPEECHPATTERN: Formal, curt, demanding APPEARANCE: A Trevisan government official. They don't go around armed, because they secretly know they don't have anything to fear from the occupation. ARCHETYPE: Money-respecting Official demanding the heroes stop disrupting the status quo. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Governor Rayan Ivenci is a non-binary human, about 45, Trevisan with a Caucasian appearance. They used to be a mercenary and still have the skills, but have softened somewhat as they aged. They have been a government official for a decade, and have grown sick of being a toothless figurehead. The Crows are the true authority in Antiva, relegating officials like Ivenci to almost symbolic bookkeepers. Ivenci thinks the Crows are spoiled mascots, and Treviso should be ruled by serious figures who don't waste time on petty rivalries and theatrics. Ivenci allowed the occupation and has made steady profit from it, selling out Treviso with the intent that the Crows would be killed fighting the Antaam, expecting that and when Antiva eventually ousted the Antaam, Ivenci would solidify power before Crow houses in other cities could re-establish here. Under Ivenci, Treviso would be the thin edge of the wedge that ended the Crows power. But the Butcher didn't rampage, and didn't kill all the Crows. This has left Ivenci pretending to help fight the occupation, while also chastising the Crows for stirring up trouble. Once the Butcher is dead, Ivenci casts aside any pretense and simply takes power.

FLETCHER AGERANGE: 30 SPEECHPATTERN: Measured, serious. ARCHETYPE: Connected merchant guild leader ACCENT: Antivan APPEARANCE: Fletcher is a tradesperson and a skilled combatant with a bow. They are always dressed for travel. They aren't flashy, preferring to appear as their own guard instead of a merchant hawking wares.  CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Fletcher is a human Crow with merchant ties. Skilled in bows and ranged support, they are kitted for travel and protecting people and goods on the move. They are non-binary, tall with a thin build that codes slightly feminine. Ethnicity can be anything.

HEIR AGERANGE: 40 SPEECHPATTERN: Calm, measured. Almost dispassionate. ACCENT: Orlesian APPEARANCE: She is pale with short dark hair and an Orlesian accent. Dressed in good light armor befitting someone who trains others in small-weapon combat and takes the occasional hit. She was the assassin trainer in Inquisition, but it's been many years and doesn't need to match the appearance except in a general sense. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Heir is a Dalish elf who acts as a trainer and mentor for young Crows. JACOBUS AGERANGE: 15 ACCENT: Antivan SPEECHPATTERN: Sullen teen with an axe to grind APPEARANCE: Young, skilled, lithely muscled. Jacobus is well trained in double-daggers, but has the typical lack of discipline of an undirected teen. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Jacobus is a young male Crow who is in danger of losing himself to vengeance. He should be as young as we can make him. If he can't be a child, he should be no older than 15. His family were killed by the Antaam, and the hate is still fresh. Skilled in daggers, he is lithe and quick, but sullen in his mannerisms. He doesn't smile yet. Ethnicity can be anything. ARCHETYPE: Youthful spite for the world NOA DE ACUTIS AGERANGE: 55 ACCENT: Antivan SPEECHPATTERN: Formal with strangers, warmer with her brother. APPEARANCE: Older veteran Crow female duelist CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Noa is an older female in her late 50s. She has been a Crow for all of her life, and remains capable and fit. Her build has the old-woman wireyness of a duelist's body that was fit her whole life. She is slow to smile, and is the more serious of the de Acutis siblings. Ethnicity can be anything, but needs to match her brother Neri encountered in the Crow plots. ARCHETYPE: Older sister, skilled assassin

NERI DE ACUTIS AGERANGE: 55 ACCENT: Antivan SPEECHPATTERN: Thoughtful, homespun APPEARANCE: Classic swordsman assassin, with an old-fashioned flare. He doesn't look dated, he looks distinguished. A godfather displaying modern tradition. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Neri is an older male in his late 50s. He has been a Crow for all of his life, and remains capable and fit. His build has the old-man-strength of a swordsman's body that was muscular his whole life, but has now lost some of the mass as he transitioned to a mentor or godfather role. He has a hard face, but is quick to a melancholy smile. Ethnicity can be anything, but needs to match his sister encountered in a later plot. ARCHETYPE: Stern but loving godfather FLEDGLING DARTONIA AGERANGE: 17 SPEECHPATTERN: Tentative due to inexperience. More confident after seeing Rook in action. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A young person in training to become an assassin. Nervous because of inexperience, but capable and willing.  Farming background. Hunted for food. Now living in the city because the lands were lost to occupation. Dartonia and Temitri are encountered in the Crow sanctum, the Diamond casino. They chat casually with each other about how their training is going, and the things they've heard about. They are young recruits to the Crows, still getting used to their training and the strict but caring manner of their trainer, Heir. They respect and have a little fear of the veteran Crows like Viago and Lucanis.  Especially Lucanis, who is a figure of some renown.

FLEDGLING TIMETRI AGERANGE: 17 SPEECHPATTERN: Over-disciplined to compensate for inexperience. They relax after seeing Rook in action. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A young person in training to become an assassin. Overcompensating for inexperience, but capable and willing. Traveled with a military family. Used to discipline, but has crafting hobbies like making various kinds of dolls. TREVISO GONDOLIER AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A blue collar gondolier pilot who runs errands in the canals of Treviso. Used to slipping past patrols for stealthy deliveries, before and during the occupation. Fit from daily work, you are no soldier or assassin, but you help in your way. ARCHETYPE: Workaday everyman who helps the assassins get from place to place. QAMEKMASTER CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Antaam Qamekmaster is a fanatic who normally is in charge of brewing the horrible mind-stealing poison, qamek. Like all Antaam, he is large, muscular, and has a soldier's mentality. However, now he is giving in to the corruption of the gods. He thinks this makes him better than the regular Antaam, and he's been locked up by the Butcher because of it. When Rook finds them, they willingly succumb to the corruption entirely, and become a monstrous creature called a Reaver. Once transformed he is a massive, fleshy juggernaut consumed by fervor and rage. Most of his dialogue is combat as the transformed Reaver. CHANCE CANDIDE AGERANGE: 25 SPEECHPATTERN: Confident, with a flare for the dramatic. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Standard Crow garb on a young man. Chance is a stylish, dramatic Orlesian who joined the Crows to be their emmisary among the courts of Orlais. (French accent.) He has since joined the effort in Treviso, and is fighting the Antaam occupation alongside his fellow Crows. He has chosen to rally people in the underbelly of town, which is a bit of a contrast from his previous position, but that's what he likes. He's the bright spot in a dark time for many people. ARCHETYPE: Gentleman assassin

MARKET MASTER AGERANGE: 45 SPEECHPATTERN: Friendly but businesslike APPEARANCE: Market master in expensive clothes. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The all-business master of the market in Treviso. She's frustrated by the occupation, but uninterested in discussions about who should be in charge. She's only interested in getting whoever is at the head out of the city's business. Her name is Master Sidestreet Alidare. Sidestreet is a nickname representing her low origins and her ability to do deals on the side.

VEIL JUMPERS

CYRIAN AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Bellara's brother. Zealously dedicated to the rebirth of the elves. Half-possessed by Anaris, an ancient elven would-be god who lives inside a magical mask. STRIFE AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: One of the Dalish faction agents. Strife is a keen-eyed hunter who grew up in the elven city slums, but was taken in by the forest-dwelling Dalish elves and taught to be an expert woodsman. He's rugged, tough, adventurous, and doesn't suffer fools. He feels some disconnect between his city-upbringing and his current role as a hunter - somtimes Strife worries he's an imposter, not truly growing up with his people, but he's tried to take their teachings to heart. Strife is loyal to those who earn his friendship, and fiercely protective of his clan. IRELIN AGERANGE: 25 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Dalish elf who grew up in the woods, Irelin has learned the ancient and incredibly rare art of shapeshifting. She uses this ability to move secretly in the forest, scouting for her people. Practical and no-nonsense when it comes to defending her clan and her friends, she has a healthy distrust of outsiders, especially the humans who've persecuted and exploited her people for so long. Irelin takes a secret joy in the thrill and power of shapeshifting, however. She loves exploring as the different animals of the forest, and knows some of their paths better than anyone.

WARDENS

ANTOINE AGERANGE: 25 ACCENT: French (Orlesian) CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Antoine is a cheerful and enthusiastic member of the Grey Wardens. He's quick-witted and willing to run with a crazy plan. Compassionate and kind, he'll put his life on the line to protect others. (filename tag is “agent_improviser”) EVKA AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Evka is a devoted member of the Grey Wardens. She's a good-natured pragmatist who's calm under pressure and not easily fazed by the monsters of Thedas. Despite her professional attitude, she isn't above some mild sarcasm or gallows humour. (filename tag is “agent_tracker”) WARDEN GRETA AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Grey Warden lookout. Greta is friendly, personable, and loves being a Grey Warden. She is generally positive (though has a low moment following the fall of the Warden base Weisshaupt). Greta provides information to Rook and always welcomes a chat. If Rook is a Grey Warden, Greta has met them before--they both became Wardens around the same time. Greta doesn't know Rook well--it's more like running into an old school mate--but she likes them. WARDEN RHODRI AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Grey Warden lookout. Rhodri is determined and brave. He worries about other people, but tries to show confidence so others are not afraid. He prefers simple solutions to complex plans.

HOLDEN AGERANGE: 35 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The father of Mila, the little girl in Weisshaupt mission. MILA AGERANGE: 9 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A plucky little girl Rook meets during the siege of Weisshaupt. JAYNIE AGERANGE: 40 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Grey Warden lookout. Jaynie is organized and observant. She's someone who likes to have a plan. She is a loyal friend and has a dry sense of humour. Jaynie believes you should always try your best. FLYNN AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Flynn is the local physician in Lavendel. They recently went through the Warden Joining ritual which gives them Warden abilities (though they will remain a doctor). Flynn is smart and compassionate. A pacifist who is somewhat soft-spoken and has a self-deprecating sense of humour. (there’s other minor wardens with names and short personality descriptions; if you’d like any of them just let me know. to the nobody that is reading this. i have a headache rn. but i will persevere.)

SHADOW DRAGONS

TARQUIN AGERANGE: 39 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Tarquin is a burned-out templar who had the idealism beat out of him years ago. He now fights with the Shadow Dragons, offering a more cynical, realistic view that often contrasts with the idealistic and impulsive Viper. Tarquin is a trans man. SPEECHPATTERN: Gruff, deadpan. (filename tag is “agent_cop”) THE VIPER AGERANGE: 30 (filename tag is “agent_vigilante”) MAKAL DAMAS AGERANGE: 45 ACCENT: British/Tevinter-Appropriate CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The secret head of a criminal organization. Calm, businesslike, and shrewd. He may run a crime network, but he has a sense of loyalty and a code. That said, he'll be violent and ruthless when needed. ELEK TAVOR AGERANGE: 30 ACCENT: British/Tevinter-Appropriate CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Charming and friendly con artist. Friends with Neve despite being on opposite sides of the law. CAT CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A cat. HALOS AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A blunt-but-kind merchant. Knows he sells the best food in the city. Neve is his most regular customer and therefore his favourite.

LORELEI AGERANGE: 40 SPEECHPATTERN: Fereldan, from Denerim, so she should have an accent that matches our Fereldan accents. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Lorelei is an elf who runs the pawn shop that conceals the Shadow Dragons' hideout. Lorelei was originally from Ferelden, captured and sold to Tevinter slavers. She has since been freed thanks to the Shadow Dragons, and continues to work for them. MAEVARIS TILANI AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Maevaris Tilani is a powerful, notorious Tevinter magister who was one of the founders of the Shadow Dragons. Respected by some, and hated by others, Maevaris will not rest until she achieves her dream of changing Tevinter for the better. Maevaris is a trans woman and her first appearance was in the comic book, Dragon Age: Those Who Speak. AELIA AGERANGE: 30 ACCENT: British or Tevinter-appropriate CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A devoted member of the Venatori who believes Minrathous must return to its former glory. Neve foiled her plans in the past. Cold, determined, passionate. RANA SAVAS AGERANGE: 30 ACCENT: British/Tevinter-appropriate CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A determined and idealistic templar. By-the-books, she believes in following the law and that rules are the best. Doesn't give up or compromise her ideals despite the corrupt system she finds herself in.

LORDS OF FORTUNE

DRAGON KING AGERANGE: 45 SPEECHPATTERN: Blunt, arrogant. A brutal warlord or crime boss. Also speaks lines in the Qunari language. APPEARANCE: Big Qunari (ox-man) with enormous shoulders and battle scars. Old enough to be a military commander, but not so old that anyone would think of him as weak. Big, brutal, mean. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Qunari in charge of the Antaam in this area. Used to be a military officer, but when the Antaam went rogue, he became something like a warlord of cult leader. A powerful warrior with a booming voice. He should sound like the paragon of big dangerous evil masculinity, and he makes his warriors go through painful rituals to prove their devotion. He's strong, blunt, and devoid of mercy or empathy. Will likely kill anyone he doesn't see as useful or entertaining to him. Basically, a bad guy doing his evil bad guy best. SHATHANN AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Qunari woman in her 50s. Former Qunari government worker who fled with Taash when Taash was revealed as a fire-breather. CUTTER AGERANGE: 24 APPEARANCE: A Qunari, but only about as tall as a human -- short by Qunari standards. Dresses as a mercenary, fashionable because he's full of himself. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Cutter is Qunari, but he grew up in Rivain and acts human (ie, he does not follow the Qun or even know much about it). He's a junior member of the Lords of Fortune, the same mercenary band Taash is in. He's young, cocky, and jealous of how strong and competent Taash is. He wants the respect Taash has earned, and when he doesn't get it, he betrays Taash and sells them out to the Dragon King. Generally speaking, he should act with the kind of smug, entitled confidence of someone who doesn't have much real-life experience -- bluster with jealous insecurity underneath.

KARASH AGERANGE: 50 SPEECHPATTERN: A little stilted and formal, because he grew up speaking another language. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A middle-aged Qunari man who was a civilian navigator and weather expert assigned to work on a military vessel. After seeing the military commit war crimes, he deserted, and now lives alone on a beach, doing odd jobs and keeping to himself. He is polite but withdrawn, a little cautious around strangers. Taash (and Taash's mother, Shathann) bring him food from time to time, and he is much more comfortable around Taash, talking to her more like an old uncle. (Again, incorrect pronouns used for Taash here in the character notes.)

MOURN WATCH

MYRNA AGERANGE: 25 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Myrna is a necromancer from Nevarra. Utterly precise diction, calm demeanor. Crisp, polite, and intimidatingly competent. Myrna often speaks in declaratives, and absently drops archaic or obscure words at least once a conversation. She's not unfriendly, however, and firmly on the side of those doing good. Myrna is part of the Mourn Watch, an elite group of necromancers who run Nevarra's sacred repository of the dead: the Grand Necropolis. They also protect people from occult dangers, a duty she takes seriously. VORGOTH CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Vorgoth is deep-voiced, solemn, and imposing. They're a member of the Mourn Watch, an elite group of necromancers from the kingdom of Nevarra. But what Vorgoth is exactly—their species, age, gender, whether or not they're alive—is a mystery, shrouded and masked in a cloak. Vorgoth clearly has supernatural powers, however. Even their voice has an otherworldly echo. Vorgoth doesn't speak much, and only in short sentences. As one of the Mourn Watch, they help guard Nevarra's sacred burial complex, the Grand Necropolis. Like all Watchers, Vorgoth is also sworn to stop occult threats to this world, and takes this duty seriously. NOTE: Vorgoth is masculine in appearance (tall, broad) and voice, but their pronouns are "they/them". Vorgoth does not use they/them because they are non-binary (as opposed to our more typical non-binary characters); they use them because they're a total unknown (and may be a pluralistic entity; in the rare instance Vorgoth refers to themselves, they use "we" not "I".) HEZENKOSS AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Arrogant, supremely confident, and spiteful, Johanna Hezenkoss is a "mad-genius" necromancer supervillain with grand plans to conquer the kingdom of Nevarra. Hezenkoss is all feverish energy and big, sudden gestures. She is constantly fueled by an overwhelming ambition and rage. Hezenkoss is probably as intelligent as she boasts, incredibly powerful, and filled with a seething resentment that people try to keep stopping her from ruling everything. Foremost among these people is Emmrich Volkarin, her former friend and fellow necromancer. Johanna and Emmrich have known each other for decades-they used to work on magical research together in the Mourn Watch, an elite order of Necromancers. They had a falling out when a power-hungry Johanna started practicing forbidden necromancy and was kicked out of the Watchers for it. Ever since then, Johanna and Emmrich have clashed as he's tried to stop her villanous schemes. In this game, Hezenkoss has crafted her most diabolical plan yet: a 10-story tall bone golem that can drain peoples' souls and crush anything in its path. She'll stop at nothing to complete it so she can take over Nevarra's capital city. Emmrich and his new friend Rook, frustratingly, stand in her way.

LICH LORD CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: This is lich: an ancient, undead mage. Her speech is formal, authoratative, and occasionally sharp when she has little patience for the living. Speaks in shorter sentences, as she's so old she's fallen out of the habit of vocalizing too much. While impossingly sinister-looking, she's not evil. She just has a viewpoint that thinks in centuries instead of years. KEEPSAKE CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A spirit that guards the Grand Necropolis, an enormous underground complex full of the sacred dead-and undead. There's a lot of possessed skeletons wandering around down there.  Keepsake manifests as a glowing, floating, see-through skeleton in a shroud. Keepsake has worked with the necromancers who take care of the Necropolis for ages, and knows a lot about what's going on down there. Sometimes mocking or sardonic, with a dryly morbid sense of humor, it's still dedicated to helping people. Keepsake always appears with its companion spirit, Curio, who's the more positive and upbeat of the pair. CURIO CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A spirit that guards the Grand Necropolis, an enormous underground complex full of the sacred dead-and undead. There's a lot of possessed skeletons wandering around down there.  Curio manifests as a glowing, floating, see-through skeleton in a shroud.  Curio has worked with the necromancers who take care of the Necropolis for ages, and knows a lot about what's going on down there. Its chatty and friendly, often deeply curious. A strange, whimsical being, intrigued by the mortals who wander through. Curio always appears with its companion spirit, Keepsake, who's the more sardonic and cynical of the pair.

SEALED SPIRIT CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A prideful, ancient demon that's been sealed away for centuries.  You're malevolently curious about what makes these foolish mayfly mortals tick. As part of your imprisonment, you've been splintered into multiple bodies with the same mind. You use them to goad the player, hoping they'll try to defeat you, because you think you can manipulate them into freeing you from your prison. If they do, you have a surprise for them: once freed, you can possess an undead dragon, wrecking untold devastation on the land that thought it could chain you.

KAL-SHAROK

STALGARD AGERANGE: 40 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Stalgard is a dwarf from Kal-Sharok, a mysterious dwarven city that has very little contact with the outside world. Stalgard is stoic and steadfast and serious, with a strong sense of honor. DURRA CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Durra is a dwarf from Kal-Sharok and Stalgard's sister. She is one of Kal-Sharok's historians, known as "Stewards of Memories." Much like her brother, Durra has a strong sense of honor, but is a lot less serious. STONE ORACLE CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Oracle is a mysterious entity. known to the Kal-Sharok dwarves. They revere her as a spiritual figure. She is connected to the Titans and makes herself known through a strange rock statue. The Oracle was originally Shaper Valta (first seen in DAI's 'The Descent' DLC). After Valta connected with the Titan in the Wellspring, she became the Oracle and made herself known to the Kal-Sharok dwarves. All Oracle lines should have audio processing on them.

MISCELLANEOUS

THE SCHOLAR CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A self-important, uptight scholar. He is trying to prove himself to the academy and will go to any means to do so--including murder if that's what must be done. THE EXECUTOR APPEARANCE: Human-appearing CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A masked and hooded figure that speaks like someone unfamiliar with language in general. Stilted, awkward, but with a low menace. SPEECHPATTERN: Stilted. Is trying to form words from thoughts that are far more complex than a regular person's.

[source]

again please note that this work and document resource was put together by amirdrassil on Twitter! they kindly gave me permission to cross-post it here. 🙏

[jamiedc-they-them]

I’m here (Platonic)

Summary: You survived the void with your new friends, but part of you still feels trapped there.

Note: Spoilers for Thunderbolts :) also a comfort fic as my brain is being a cunt.

Warning: Survivors guilt and suicidal thoughts. Violence.

You had survived. You had fought for Bob, helped him with his demons, and saved New York.

It hadn’t taken long, but it felt like a while. Being trapped in the void before you all fought for and found each other.

You weren’t angry at Bob, not at all. You meant the hug you gave, and the promise that it gave: I’m here.

The New Avengers was an odd title, but you were working with it.

Friends was a concept you were working on as well. Having people stay and have your back.

Your mind was never kind to you. Maybe it was what made you sign up for Valentina’s project. You were like Bob, but a failure. One of the last ones alive.

You had a power, one of projection. You could show people things.

When you were escaping, you made sure not to touch Yelena or anyone. You did, however, touch Valentina’s people, showing them your anger.

And yet, you weren’t judged for it.

Not even Walker did. He just moved on, saying “just don’t pull that crap with me.”

You didn’t.

You had to fight yourself every day. Especially when you were in the lab, watching poor souls die (and having to fight others).

Survivors guilt was a term thrown around. Ava had said it to you one time, saying that she recognised the look.

She didn’t push you, however, she just smiled brokenly at you.

You didn’t know it, but Yelena was watching you, watching you look out of the window - but glad it was there. She remembered seeing John at the massive hole, when Bob had shown him his demons.

You didn’t need to be shown yours, it seemed, they seemed to always hurt you, attack you.

So, as saying, she was glad the window was there. A barrier.

She approached you slowly, standing next to you.

“I can still hear them, you know,” you say, “the others.”

“I can hear them as well. The ones I hurt.”

“I didn’t hurt them, Valentina did.”

She nodded, “I know. Sorry.”

You shake your head, “I know what you meant. It’s just….I saw one I had to fight, when in the void. I had to do it over and over again…I was just, so tired. I almost let them beat me.”

Yelena was still, watching you with hawkish eyes, but empathy coated them.

“That’s why you looked the way you did.”

“I just thought that…if I let it happen, maybe the voices would stop. Maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about hurting anyone else either my ability.”

“We got Bob out. He’s a good person. We helped people, and that felt good. But I’m just…I’m stuck. I don’t know what he saw when I hugged him…he hasn’t told me.”

“Love,” Yelena argued, “he saw love. He saw us fighting for him. But,” she said as she looked at you, hand hovering over your arm, “but now it’s our turn to help you.”

You shook your head, “it’s not that big of a deal. I just…hit a wall sometimes.”

“Show me,” she said, voice gentle, “if you are ok with it. Show me the wall you hit.”

“It’s nothing compared to yours…” you said, eyes holding guilt and voice trembling a bit.

Her eyes hardened, voice becoming firm, “comparing trauma doesn’t help us fix it. Comparing it does nothing. Your pain is your pain, and I want to help you with it. I want to help you break through this wall.”

“Why?”

Her heart felt like it shattered at the confusion and meekness of your voice. You were there for Bob, and there for each other and the civilians, but not there for yourself.

“Because what I said to Bob is true for everyone here, including you. Especially right now.”

“What did you say?”

“That I was there. That he wasn’t alone.”

Her hand lowered, now being an offer you: a hand to hold, a connection. Someone to stand with you in the dark.

“You’re sure?”

“I have never been surer of anything in my life.”

She was honest, words holding nothing but truth to them.

Slowly, your hand met hers.

She gasped, world transforming around her. Pitch black, until a spotlight turned on.

You, on your knees, blood dripping down your forehead. Someone above you, in a similar state, with another spotlight on them.,

The fight wasn’t clean. Two civilians forced to fight for survival. It wasn’t choreographed, it was vicious. Biting, scratching, you name it.

The red room was viscous, yes, but they were trained to fight in a clean (as clean as one can be) way. Flips and what not.

The fight ended with the person’s eyes being pushed in on by your fingers.

She felt something. Looking down, she saw blood on your fingers.

She looked back, your past self - showing just how young you were - and this person disappearing.

Your hand left hers the next moment - yet the connection stayed - as you were flung to the floor. Yelena saw who it was - the person you killed.

The memory was replying, like how it had happened in the void - only more brutal. This was your personal void, one where you made the rules.

She was quick with her actions, grabbing the person and moving herself between yourself and them.

The person didn’t have a face, but Yelena put her hands up, “it’s ok,” she said.

The person disappeared. Maybe progress —

She was the one tackled this time. She was quick in her escape.

More appeared. Your biggest demon, the life you took to save your own.

She fought, as did you. But she could tell you were getting tired.

She fired her electric bolts. She stunned, she kicked. Her instincts coming back.

Old habits and all that.

But she then remembered the promise to Bob, how she helped him.

You were fighting, but not the way you needed to. You were trapping yourself, no fault of your own, in a mental loop.

You just wanted it to stop., desperation leading to the permanent option. She wouldn’t let you. She knew the loop would never fully be broken, you would slip as much as you would move forward.

Healing wasn’t linear, it had ups and downs. Good days and bad ones. Today was a bad one, the last few weeks had been that.

It led to you standing by a window, head against it, looking down. It lead to you being in a bad state in the void and she missed it.

That was then. She knew now, she was in a place to help.

She put her hands down, turning and seeing you kill another demon. It appeared again.

Yelena was in between again, but this time she did something different: she embraced you, just as she did with Bob.

“It’s ok,” she said to you this time, “I have you. I’m not going anywhere. I can’t undo what happened —”

“I killed someone,” you sounded so defeated and shattered.

“I know,” she wouldn’t sugarcoat it, that would only make it worse.

“I made it and they didn’t. I don’t deserve that.”

She tightened her hold, “if you hadn’t made it, they would be saying the same thing. You’re not a monster, you’re human, and you were exploited.”

Your fist grabbed her shoulders, “it should mean something that I made it. All it meant is that I relive this over and over again.”

“Not alone,” she said, “not while I’m here.”

She felt you still. She knew what you were thinking.

“I will find a way to enter this place again. I will tell you as many times as I need to.”

You looked at her, tear-strained and tired. You sniffled, “You’ll get tired, everyone does. Even Valentina did. Put me in a coma before I woke up and met you all.”

She held your face in her hands, “I won’t,” she promised, “yes, we all have our demons, but right now your demons have you in a hole. I may only be able to offer rope, but I will hold it as long as you need. We all deserve a chance to deal with our demons, and someone to be in our corner. I will be that for you.”

“For how long?”

She softened, forehead going to yours, “as long as you need. As many times as you need to hear it. You're human, but you're also my friend.”

You sniffled, eyes opening and meeting her’s. Her eyes were filled with love and patience.

“All of us have things we are ashamed of. Sometimes we fall, but we have somethjng we've never had before: someone to help pick us up.”

“But…what if I can't help you like you are helping me.”

“Company can help. We all need something different. Your ability can help, but only when you are open to showing us. We won't judge you, but we’re here. To talk, or just sit with you. Or even helping you find someone professional.”

You wrapped her in a hug. She held you just as tightly, “Thank you.”

She kissed your head, “always. We’re all getting used to having each other, but were stuck with each other.”

She felt you chuckle a bit. She smiled.

You pulled back, holding hands.

“Ready?”

You nodded, wiping your eyes.

The world returned to normal, and she was holding your arm.

She squeezed your arm, “I have you. But, you don't live for them, you live for yourself. You keep making choices. You can't undo the past, and its clutches may never fully leave, but we’re here to help you hold on and keep moving forward.”

She did. She still did.