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fandsart · 1 year

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Steve and Nancy's relationship didn't work out because they had different wants and needs so when Steve starts dating Eddie he tries really hard not to have wants and needs of his own. Knowing that Eddie didn't reschedule Hellfire for Lucas doesn't help with this.

He goes to a few metal concerts even though he always gets migraines the next day from the volume, he lets Eddie talks about all kinds of nerd stuff even if it makes him feel stupid when he can't keep up.

It's not even like he's dragging Steve into things that are actively detrimental to him all that often. Just a couple activities things a week. But Steve also feels the need to hide some of his own interests, knowing that Eddie hates them.

Not that he doesn't love being around Eddie, but now that they're dating he's hardly not around, and it's hard to find time to keep up on the teams that Steve roots for. But it's... it's fine. He's happy with Eddie, so he can make the sacrifice to hide these parts of himself. It's fine.

Eddie doesn't realize this is going on because he's aware that he's pushing Steve out of his comfort zone, what he isn't aware of is how Steve far out of his comfort zone he really is, and how he doesn't want to bother Eddie with it, afraid they'll break up over it.

Then he slips up, just a little bit, when Eddie invites him to a concert on the same day he plans on watching a game. This isn't even the first time this has happened, but Eddie usually gives him more of a heads up for this kind of thing. He thought he was close enough to the date that he wouldn't have to worry about it getting disrupted, and it was a pretty big game, so his disappointment is higher than usual.

Eddie is talking about a metal band and is going on a small ramble explaining the context of where they sit in the metal scene.

"And they have a concert in Indy tomorrow," he grins, "and I really want to take you."

"Oh, I was gonna... Yeah, we can do that."

"You were gonna what?"

"It doesn't matter. It's stupid."

"Steve, it's not a big deal. It's not like I'm taking you to a Dio concert. These guys are actually pretty small and relatively local. I'm sure we could catch another one, it would just be kind of down the road."

"Eddie it's fine. We can go to your concert. Whatever you want."

Eddie gives him a look. "I don't want it to be 'my concert.' If you wouldn't enjoy it, I wouldn't want to just be dragging you with me. And I don't want it to be 'fine' I want it to be enjoyable!"

"I enjoy spending time with you."

"Ok, so what were you going to do tomorrow?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Obviously it does!"

They're fighting and this was exactly what Steve was worried about. If Steve could have just gotten over himself, cut the bullshit, they wouldn't be fighting right now.

"Eddie, it really doesn't. Can we just go to the concert and forget about this?"

"No. If you don't want to go, you don't have to."

"If I don't go, will you go without me?"

"Unless you don't want me to."

"I want to go with you, wherever."

"Ok, you know what, I just remembered I actually have to help Wayne with something on tomorrow."

"No you don't. Look, I wasn't gonna do anything. Can we please just go to this concert you want to go to?"

"Look, I have to go to school. I'm already over 2 hours late." With that, he's out the door.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Steve's not sure what time the concert was even meant to be at, but if he could just get a hold of Eddie and convince him he wants to go, maybe they won't miss it. It's already fairly well into the afternoon and he hasn't heard from Eddie all day.

The first few times he calls, there's no answer, but when he finally gets an answer it's Wayne that picks up.

"You almost missed me," he says. "Make it quick, I gotta to get to work."

"Is Eddie there?"

"Nah, he should be in Indy by now. Did he not tell you? There's some concert down there."

"Yeah, I, uh... Thank you Mr. Munson."

So Eddie went by himself even though Steve told him he wanted to come, and he'd pretended that he didn't even want to go.

Steve watches his game that night, kind of miserable and guilty. He debated not watching it, almost as a point of honor, since he lied to Eddie and told him that he didn't really have anything planned today. They'd both lied about their plans last night and Steve is so ready for Eddie to come back and say that he had a much better time without Steve and it's time they go they're separate ways.

His team loses and he falls asleep on the couch soon after, the tv still playing in the background.

He wakes up in the morning to a knock at the door. Eddie stands on the other side.

"Hey, baby. Did I wake you up?"

"Um... yeah." He wants to bring up what happened yesterday, that Eddie went without him, but he's afraid it will just make things worse. He obviously wanted to go without him if he did so, and bringing it up might just start an argument about how Eddie doesn't need Steve's permission to do things (and he doesn't) reinforcing why he didn't want Steve to come in the first place. He wants to stay with Eddie forever and he's worried the relationship is starting to fall apart. "It's fine. I should be up by now anyway."

Eddie hums almost suspiciously. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." He moves out of the way.

"'Whatever I want,' huh?" he asks, as he walks through the doorway.

"What?"

"Nothing. We'll talk about it in a minute. A few things first. Come on." He drags Steve over to the couch. "So what did you do yesterday?"

"Tried getting a hold of you, mostly."

Eddie chuckles nervously. "Sorry. But did you do whatever it was you planned on doing before?" Steve tenses just a little bit. Is Eddie going to accuse him of choosing baseball over their relationship? He kind of almost did when he first opened his mouth after Eddie first suggest the concert. Is he going to call him out for that. "Relax baby, you don't even need to tell me what it was, as long as whatever it was you were doing wasn't a person."

"No, never!"

"I know, Stevie. I know you're history; I know you would never do that. So I'm not upset. So did you carry out your plans, whatever they were?"

"Yeah. It was disappointing."

"Well, I'm glad you did what you wanted anyway. And since you were busy and couldn't come to the concert, I went and brought you back a tape." He pulls a cassette tape out of his pocket. "You obviously weren't going to admit you didn't want to go, but I still wanted to share this with you, so here. This is yours."

Eddie's more attentive to when Steve seems hesitant to do something after that. Eventually Steve gets comfortable enough to bring up where his reservations stand regarding a lot of these things. Eddie switches up how he talks about his interests, trying to make it more coherent and gets Steve earplugs for concerts. He encourages Steve to talk about his own interests, even when Eddie doesn't fully get the appeal himself. He can go a little outside of his comfort zone too. For Steve, it's always worth it.

#They have a lot of talks about this as time goes on which eventually leads to Eddie apologizing to Lucas btw #about the hellfire campaign #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #ficlet #fandsart

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virgobingo · 5 months

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i wish people didn't try to filter geto's decision through a western lens because they're forgetting a huge part of the puzzle and it's the fact that sorcerers are oppressed by non-sorceres in the world of jujutsu kaisen. geto’s whole thing is "there's so few of us and yet we work ourselves to death for your peace of mind, while you remain ungrateful".

it's all more equivalent to health care workers trying to treat a virus. which also aligns thematically with the subject of labour across the series (jujutsu sorcerers being spread thin to the detriment of inexperienced workers, a job you value vs a job that compensates but drains you of your spirit, the myth of meritocracy) .

which is why controlling the output of cursed energy should be seen as the equivalent of being born with or developing an immunity to a disease. this is why a "culling" sounds possible to geto to begin with— people being pushed to adapt or die in their lifetime to prevent future outbreaks, like one would with a virus. strongly differing to kenjaku, because they essentially yearn for this disease to spread out of morbid curiosity (while geto wants the work to end):

geto is a character you are meant to see yourself in. as, in all likelihood, a laborer yourself or someone that will become one. his story is that of exploitation at the hands of a system that only cares for results. leading to isolation in hopes of achieving high productivity.

tangentially, i think a subject that is often ignored in these discussions is the financial incentive to take on more and more work onto your plate too. mei mei is perhaps the clearest example of this, no explanation needed. nobara, a second, when she explictly tells us sorcerery work is the only way a small town girl like her can make it in the big city. megumi, a third, when we learn the money the school gave him helped keep him and his sister tsumiki afloat.

while gege does not delve into geto's past, we can safely speculate part of the reason geto keeps working day after day, after day— despite his wavering convictions is because there is something that encourages him to do so. financial stability would not be an odd motivater. after all, why do we push ourselves everyday to work jobs that no longer add anything meaningful to our lives? geto is the type of character that forces us to examine such things.

as an aside, when he first dons the robes of a cult leader, money is at the forefront of his concerns. if it wasn't obvious before, gege tells you again— choosing not to be a sorcerer, implies a serious loss of income.

i think, all in all, geto's spiral does not hinge on the fact that he was secretly evil the entire time. it lies in disillusionment of a system that only seeks to preserve itself. note that this is why yuki works outside of it. no doubt her experiences as a former star plasma vessel informed her reasoning. it's also why gojo decides to become a teacher and change the institution from within, wielding his privilege as a shield over others.

#geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk analysis

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itstatartdump · 7 days

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So like most people on here I had been watching Watcher since they started their channel, and like most others I was surprised/concerned at the announcement that they're starting a streaming service. After checking out the site and looking close at their YouTube, this feels destined to fail.

I'll go through my thoughts.

They don't currently post enough to justify the paywall

Over the past year, they have posted between 4 to 9 videos a month. That is a decent amount for most YouTube channels, but for a streaming service that is way to low. For $5.99 a month, getting only 4 episodes is not a good deal when other services give you more for less.

What makes this problem worse it that...

They only produce one show at a time

Whenever Watcher releases a shows, they only have that show running. During a series of Mystery Files, they only upload Mystery Files. During a series of Too Many Spirits, they only upload Too Many Spirits. Now this isn't the case all the time, when they have smaller productions they usually release a similar size production along with it.

If we go back to the issue of only getting 4 episodes, this means that you can be paying $5.99 a month to access 4 episodes of a show that you don't enjoy.

These two issues would be less detrimental if it wasn't for the fact that...

They backpedalled removing their YouTube back catalogue

Lets be real, not only were they originally going to remove their YouTube content, It was the only way I could see this being worth the price.

Yes, they say that they aren't removing it, but if you read the full article it say's that "The company originally told Variety that Watcher would eventually remove all of its videos from YouTube".

Their original plan WAS to make all their content exclusive to streaming, the problem was that everyone new this was a scummy idea and they gaslit their audience into thinking they weren't doing that. But that now leaves them with a streaming service where all they offer is 4 episodes of a show per month and a back catalogue that is free on a more well known platform.

The big question I have is...

How are they going to make more content

This is something that I feel should be addressed, they are a small production studio who are trying to "creating television-caliber, unscripted series in the digital space" (direct quote from their YouTube Description). They need more content per month to make this service worth while, how are they going to do that?

Will they push out multiple small budget, easy to film, YouTube like content that bring up the overall upload count which may cause them and their employees to crunch and burn out.

Or are they going to produce several higher budget, TV-calibre shows that would each be more expensive than they can afford to make.

Not sure if this was coherent but thanks for reading anyway.

(sidenote)

While I agree that Steven is getting a huge bulk of the anger that should also be applied to Shane and Ryan, I also have to acknowledge that the first announced show after saying they need money being his travel show is not helping.

#watcher #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim

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indouloureux · 2 years

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eddie fic where he's sleeping beside the reader after a heated fight and he makes it up by fucking her from behind?

shisjskssj make up sex *faints.* thank you for requesting! <3

18+ mdni — afab!reader, she/her pronouns, fingering, praising, p in v, unprotected sex, light choking, biting, scratching, creampie

he never thought it would hurt to see your back facing him.

usually it excites him. knowing he'd surprised you, hug you from behind, wrap his arms around your waist and place his chin on top of your head as he greets you with messy kisses.

same goes for tedious nights, spooning you, encasing his own body in yours in benign possession; in a promise of protection to the people who thinks of harming you. eddie feels as though he's keeping his own heart against his chest.

but now, your back facing him squeezes his chest. and you're not even beside him — you're by the edge of the bed, curled into the ball with the blanket halfway through your torso, hands tucked beneath your pillow as you breathe unevenly. you're still awake.

it started at work. at some dingy restaurant where you waitered, serving some greedy and sordid men who thought a hand down your ass was enough of a tip. they never got away with it, because your boss knew it was wrong. and eddie knew that none of it was your fault — of course he did. he should.

but an old friend came over. an old boy-space-friend came over at work. sat on the booth right at the corner. and you couldn't help but catch up, because he was an old friend. but eddie got the wrong idea; standing outside the restaurant with a smile that slowly fell as you laughed and smack some other guy's arm as you did so — the way you'd do to eddie when you couldn't breathe from all the laughter.

he wasn't insecure. eddie knew you loved him. but it didn't mean he would trust the guys around you immediately. watching at the way the old friend eyed you like some fresh meat, the way his hand would go on your shoulder as he laughs like a pretentious dick.

jealousy burnt him alive. it put him in a sour mood even as he picked you up, chastised his kiss by placing it on your cheek, but his hand on your thigh was tighter.

and gasoline rained upon him when you went home.

"come on. i saw the way you touched his arm!"

"it wasn't even a touch, it was a slap! i slap my dad's arm like that all the time. what the hell is wrong with you?"

"maybe if you weren't flirting with some guy, i wouldn't have acted this way."

you weren't even the one who poured it.

as the fire died, residues of leaden smoke pervade the bedroom. as well as your irritation towards his irrationality. because for you, though he may not have said it, you think that he's lost his trust by the simple sight of another man laughing harmlessly with you.

it angers you. how he got jealous — even though you would have felt the same if you ever saw him with some other person. but you know you'd never shout at him, or accuse him of flirting, or any other detrimental acts that could break the chain in your tethered hearts.

but you're young. and you're petty. and you have every reason to be mad. so you are mad. sinking into your side, eyes shut even though the dreams refuse to start. you know eddie's staring at your spine, tracing the color of your thin shirt — your shirt rather than his. a detail he's picked up that leaves a pang to his chest that spreads everywhere.

he thinks of letting this go. letting you sit in your own cottage of anger until its wood has been burnt into nothing but lethal ashes. but if eddie sits this one out, there'll be nothing left to fix; what would ashes do if not be swept away by the wind?

eddie sighs. "(y/n)."

no answer. duh.

"sweetheart."

he gently, so gently, places a hand on your shoulder to shake you carefully. you frown at his sudden touch, but you refuse to move and try to trick him into thinking that you were asleep. because you really just want to sleep.

but ever the fighter, eddie makes another sigh before he's scooting closer to you. until the curve of your back hits his chest and he hooks his arms around your waist, his fingers splayed around your stomach. "baby," he mumbles, pressing his lips on your clothed shoulder.

your tongue clicks with the roof of your mouth, the lines between your eyebrows deepening as you try not to melt into his touch. "what, eddie?"

his nose tickles the crevice of your neck, his breath hot as he huffs against your skin. "i'm sorry, baby," eddie pouts, his head lifting slightly to take a glimpse of your eye and cheek. "i didn't mean to yell. or accuse you."

hesitantly, you open your eyes, staring onto the poster that sticks to the plaster walls of his trailer, but your focus remains on the way his hand is lightly massaging your stomach and his lips that stay on your shoulder.

you turn around, the sheets ruffling along with your heavy huff. eddie etches a small, triumphant smile on his face, even though you're still frowning at him.

"sorry doesn't cut it, eddie," you whisper. his smile withers, licking his lips before he nods in understatement. "you yelled at me. you accused me of flirting with someone else. it's like you don't trust me."

eddie puts his hand on your arm, furrowing his eyebrows as he leans closer. "no. no baby, i trust you. it's just that—"

"you don't trust them. i know," you pinch the bridge of your nose. "but that doesn't mean you should yell at me. he was a friend. we were catching up. and i'm sorry if it made you think that way but we should have just talked about it."

guilt showers him. and embarrassment drowns him in this tub; because he knows you're right. eddie should have sat down, or approached you quietly, and maybe he should have just asked who he was and told himself that you'd choose him over anyone. because you would, right?

because you promised. and he believes it because he trusts you.

"princess," he whispers into the thin air, cold and cruel to exposed skin. "i'm sorry. i- i trust you with my whole heart. i swear. okay? i'll never do it again, i promise you." brazenly does he let his fingers dance up your arm to the side of your face where he pushes your hair away, swallowing thickly. "i swear to you. i swear on my hair. on ozzy osbourne. on the hellfire club. even dustin henderson. i swear."

you find the love in you to laugh and smile at him, despite the fact that it wasn't a joke and he knew that he'd actually swear on dustin — the kid he adores the most. you place your hand on top of his, the one on your cheek, and find comfort in the warmth of his flesh in this cold night.

"i still need to see some groveling, though," you half-jest. "i wanna see you on your knees tomorrow. cooking for me. iron my clothes. fold my laundry. everything." eddie grins, his teeth glinting between his thin lips. "that shows then how sorry you are."

"baby, i'd be at your service any time," he takes your hand and kisses the back of it, lips placed on top of a vein. "i'd be on my knees for you anytime." eddie says this with the hand beneath his body untucking itself so that it would travel down your stomach, coz he's a sucker for a great performance.

eddie nudges his nose with yours, his lips hovering in a ghost of a wanted kiss but never truly reuniting. his hand wanders down, cheeky fingertips lingering above your shirt before it comes down beneath to touch your hot flesh. "babe," you warn, letting your eyes flutter shut when his thumb grazes the skin beneath your breasts. "i still- i still haven't fully forgiven you. 'was supposed to give you the silent treatment but—"

"but we're here now, hm?" you gasp at the touch of his rough hand suddenly groping your tit, pressing your hard buds against his palm as his fingers dig onto your flesh, squeezing it like some pillow. eddie smirks when your eyebrows join, lips parted to let out small, quiet whines when his other hand decides to slither beneath your shirt and cup your tits with his thumbs running over your nipples. "gonna let me make it up to you, princess? we can start now, yeah?"

you know he's not fully in control, in the way his hands still stay on your tits and never really where you want him to. his thumbs and fingers that pinch and pull on your hardened buds awaits for your guidance; you take one hand of his, and shove it beneath your sleep shorts to let him cup the pool of wetness created by merely by the fondling of your breasts.

eddie chuckles, each beat drips boastfully. "all that for me? you're mad at me but you're still wet, huh?"

you tsk, frowning still with your eyes closed. "shut up or i'll fuck myself in the bathroom."

"with what?" he queries, fingers tracing the lace of your panties before they press against your slit through the fabric. eddie bites his lip when you moan quietly, subtly grinding against his palm. "your fingers, hm? thought you can't make yourself cum? because your fingers aren't as big as mine, sweetheart. you'll just anger yourself more."

still, despite his teasing, he moves your panty to the side and lets his fingertips drag through your slick folds. eddie swallows the moan that comes out by pressing his lips with yours — a messy, breathy open mouthed kiss that makes your hips stutter against his fingers that they slip to prod on your starving hole. he shoves his tongue in your mouth, flicking it with yours before he closes his lips around you to fully kiss you, silencing your moans.

his fingers decide that sliding them against your cunt wasn't enough, coming up to rub your clit in slow figure-eights. you squirm against him, slowly lifting when eddie's other arm wraps beneath you to push your head closer to him, resting on the side of your head to at least keep you still and quiet.

"eddie," you whine. "you're such- you-ah...you're an asshole."

your glinting slick coats his fingers. your supposed insult makes him press harder to your clit that makes you jolt, eyebrows clenched and raised when he does so. "i know, baby," he hums, smiling roguishly. "i'm such an asshole for touching you after we fight. i'm such an asshole that—"

he plunges his fingers — two fingers, right inside your hole. straight up until he's knuckle deep and his fingertips graze your g-spot when he curls them. you moan loudly against his lips, only to be muffled when he encases your mouth again.

"—i'm only fingering you," he finishes. "that i'm teasing you. because you want my cock, right? i know you want it. gotta give my princess what she wants, hm? but how will i be sure if it's my dick she wants if she can't even say it?"

you're panting, even though eddie's doing all the work by fucking you with his long fingers. he's pressing and tracing your gummy walls; scissoring his limbs in the way he knows you love that has your toes curling. your grip his forearm, nails digging on the bats on his skin until there's crescent indentations on his opalescent organ.

"say it, baby," he nips at your bottom lip, opening his eyes just to stare at your slacked jaw and wrinkled face. you whine and whimper when he picks up the pace and goes fast, a soft squelching noise heard beneath the blankets from your arousal.

"i- i want your cock," you mewl, legs spreading wider. when eddie shoves a third finger, your forehead touches his, greeted by an unsynchronized kiss where you take his top lip into yours. "p-please. i want your cock, eddie. your big, fat fucking cock inside me."

"atta girl," eddie takes his fingers away, shoving three of them to suck out your sweet juices. he moans as he does so, your eyes opening and you feel like you could just cum right there at the sight of it. "turn around, sweetheart."

you go back to your old position — your back to his chest. but this time it doesn't squeeze his chest. it makes all the blood flow down to his hardening cock, begging to be sprung out by his tight boxers and dive into your gaping hole.

still with an arm beneath you, eddie uses the advantage to lightly wrap his hand around your neck, pressing on the sides. your hand moves blindly behind you, searches for his cock that eddie tries to free as he removes his briefs and tucks it beneath his ass. he licks on his palm and jerks himself a few times, groaning when your palm meets his shaft and pumps him sloppily.

"fuck, baby," he pants. "god it hurts. i need to- i need to be inside you right now."

eddie nips at your earlobe, both your hands holding his cock upright as he presses his tip right into your hole that clenches on nothing but the sweaty air. you take a deep breath when he starts pushing in, his hand leaving his cock to push your leg up from beneath your knee, his length slowly pushing in until his thick mushroom bulges almost painfully at your cervix.

he stops then when he's pushed to the hilt; his balls right up at your neglected hole. eddie lets out a short moan, grunts when your nails scratch at his forearm and throw your head back where your hair meets his lips.

"‘y so tight, (y/n)," he sighs. "can feel you squeezing the shit out of me. i'm gonna move now, okay?"

you nod. eddie pushes his hips back, cunt halfway through his length before he slams back in, tip almost bulging out of your navel. your hand comes up to wrap behind his head, letting his lips evade your temple, trailing down to your neck where he removes his hand just so he can suck on your sweaty complexion.

he's slowly pistons himself, though despite the laggard thrusting, skin slapping is heard. eddie's panting on your neck, your moans high-pitched and sometimes mistaken as a whimper when you try to keep quiet as to not disturb neighbors nearby.

"love this cunt," eddie groans, his thrust slowly fastening. "such a tight pussy. pretty fucking pussy jus' taking all of me 'coz you're such a good girl, yeah? a good girl who deserves everything; even my fucking cock. come on, baby, milk me dry."

his grunting exceeds when he fucks himself faster, your ass grinding up against him. you wish to see his face, the way they would always scrunch up into his blissful haze at the feeling of your walls against his bare dick. but you're too cockdrunk, your limbs tangled into this clusterfuck of released anger and make up sex.

you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling his teeth biting at your skin. "shit, baby," you mewl, pushing up against him. "fuck me faster— oh, yes! yes yes, fuck!"

he removes the hand from your knee to rub your clit, almost ripping the seams of your underwear as his hand moves vigorously on the swollen nub. he circles, he rubs it left and right in a quick pace that almost matches his thrusts. his slick and your arousal creating the most lewd and loud squelching noises that the covers can't even muffle.

"oh- yeah," eddie moans, maybe a bit louder than you. "fuck, i'm gonna cum. i'm gonna fucking cum, baby."

eddie doesn't need your approval, anyway, because at one thrust, you're spilling all over his thick cock, painting his muscle in white, salty cream. he moans when he feels your warm substance coat him like the way your hand would. and soon, his tip pushes his seed deep in your pussy, paints you hot white like a blank canvas.

but despite his sensitive cock twitching, he's still slowly thrusting inside you. eddie pulls out when he's had enough, turns your panting into whimpers when his fingers scoop up his cum and push it back inside your spasming hole.

"eddie, i'm still sensitive," you say absentmindedly, eyes dripping.

"i know, baby," he kisses your cheek. "just gotta keep you full, okay? just keepin' it inside."

and when he's pressed your panties back in places and cleaned himself up with his hand, eddie wraps his arms around you once more, pushing you close to his chest and peppers kisses all over your head.

"i'm sorry," he whispers. "i still am sorry for what i did. i'll grovel tomorrow, i promise."

you hum, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. "you're forgiven for like, five percent."

"five?!"

"because you teased me," you playfully kick his shin. "now let me sleep."

rushed bc dude i need to take a shit

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

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incognit0slut · 6 months

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Right Kind of Wrong (15)

She ever thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer is determined to find her whereabouts. wc: 3.5k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

A/n: I want to thank everyone for sticking to this series, don’t worry, I didn’t forget it, life has just been weird lately😔 Also I want to mention there’s like 5 parts left? I think

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"REID, NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT."

Spencer wasn't sure how many times he heard those words. He knew they were told to bring him comfort, something his team members kept on reciting, yet a sense of skepticism gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were nothing more than lies. How could he not when the only thing he could do was blame himself for what happened?

His shoulders slumped, his eyes were filled with anguish, and his heart held a heavy burden of guilt.

He should've deduced the real Unsub.

He should've been the one keeping her safe.

You also should've never left her fucking house, you idiot.

He hated swearing, even if it was in his own mind—which, truthfully, was so much worse considering he despised being trapped in his own head. Possessing a psychology degree enabled him to understand the detrimental effects of being trapped within one's own thoughts, yet he couldn't escape the clutches of his own mind. The knowledge of this predicament weighed heavily on him, a cruel irony that he understood all too well.

"Pretty boy, are you even listening to me?"

He was, he just didn't want to respond. Morgan was the third person to say those words to him. The first came from JJ, who was the first one to assure him when he had a panic attack at the warehouse. Second was from Prentiss, who he met when he rushed to Y/n's house after collecting himself. And now Morgan was cornering him at the hospital as they waited for Sandy, laid in one of the rooms, to recover from her concussion.

"Reid."

"I heard you," he snapped. Then a thought occurred to him at Morgan's sudden knowledge of his involvement with their witness. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"The reason why I'm acting this way." He had to elaborate when Morgan merely raised his eyebrows. "Why I'm... blaming myself so much."

"Everyone knows you're involved with her. Heck, I knew it the first time we met her that night. Remember that? You pretended you didn't know her," Morgan recalled. "You weren't as subtle as you think."

God, that night seemed like it happened yesterday. He couldn't believe how much had happened, and to think she was just a stranger when he first met her, a stranger he would never see again... now all he could think about was her. Her smile. Her safety. His stomach churned. The guilt he felt was a relentless, gnawing ache that refused to let go.

Morgan suddenly pulled him. His sudden, determined grip propelled him toward the vending machine stationed at the far end of the hospital corridor. Irritated, he couldn't help but drag his feet along the floor. "What are you doing?"

"You need coffee," Morgan replied, "you function better with caffeine in your system."

"We need to wait for Sandy—"

"She's not going anywhere, Kid. There's no use hovering in front of her door now."

Reluctantly, Spencer gave in. He allowed his friend to pour a cup of coffee; the warmth and aroma offering a small comfort amidst the hospital's stark surroundings. Slowly, with a nod of gratitude, he accepted the cup from his outstretched hand.

"How are you holding up?" Morgan asked.

Spencer took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding to the question. "It's hard to process everything."

A heavy silence hung between them. Morgan's sigh broke the stillness, and he began, "Look, it's not—"

But Spencer cut him off, his voice tinged with guilt and self-blame. "Not my fault?" he said with a mix of frustration and anguish. "Morgan, I was there before it happened. I was at her house before I left to check the warehouse, just to step into his trap. The Unsub managed to pass through Officer Anderson and hurt her closest friend at the same time. If I was still there..."

"Reid, it's not about placing blame. You couldn't have known what would happen. The Unsub's actions were calculated and malicious, even if you had stayed, we can't predict how events would have unfolded." Morgan gave him a pointed look. "Blaming yourself won't help her, and it won't help you either."

Spencer's head shook with regret as he leaned against the cool hospital wall, his thoughts consumed by the painful memories of that night. "I hurt her," he confessed, his voice filled with remorse. "My words were hurtful, and so were my actions, and the thought of... the thought of her being in danger with the last thought of me—"

"We'll find her," Morgan assured him. "And when we do, you'll apologize to her for whatever happened."

Spencer gazed at him with a sense of desperation. In that instant, he unearthed a deep, previously unrecognized truth buried within his heart. It was a stark revelation, an understanding that struck him like a bolt of lightning amidst the storm of emotions he was weathering.

For the first time, he comprehended the true extent of his feelings. Until now, her presence in his life had been a catalyst, a spur-of-a-moment he never expected. He had taken her warmth for granted, never fully appreciating the depth of his attachment to her.

However, the threat to her safety had shattered his complacency. The fear of losing her, coupled with the regret of leaving their last interaction on such a bitter note, had awakened a realization within him. It hit him with a force that was as terrifying as it was enlightening. It was a moment of clarity, a realization that his feelings were far more significant than he had ever allowed himself to admit.

"You really like her, don't you?"

Spencer looked up, but before he could respond, his brief moment of vulnerability was abruptly interrupted by a sudden commotion. Without a second thought, he hastily left his coffee on a nearby chair and rushed toward the end of the hallway, Morgan following closely behind, as a doctor rushed into Sandy's room.

Between the flurry of medical staff, Spencer spotted a passing nurse and stepped into her line of vision. His voice was urgent, laced with concern as he asked, "What happened?"

The nurse delivered the news, "She's gaining consciousness," before swiftly disappearing into the room.

"We'll get some answers," Morgan reassured him from behind. "Don't worry, Reid, we'll find her."

Spencer nodded, his heart filled with a renewed sense of determination. The fact that Sandy had woken up was a glimmer of hope. It wasn't until a few minutes later the doctor emerged from the room, regarding the two men waiting in front of the door.

"She's awake and stable, but we'll need to monitor her for any potential complications." After a brief pause, the doctor continued, "It's apparent that she's still quite shaken. I would recommend that only one of you Agents speak with her."

They both nodded in agreement as the doctor left. Morgan turned toward Spencer. "You should talk to her."

He hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Morgan confirmed. "I'll go check on Oliver in the meantime."

Spencer's thoughts swirled with unease at the mention of Oliver, their suspected Unsub who had turned out to be a pawn in a larger scheme, who was lying unconscious on another floor. He nodded, and as Morgan walked away, he slowly gathered himself and entered the room.

Stark, white walls greeted him as he stepped inside, followed by the beeping sound of the monitors rhythmically punctuating the silence. Sandy lay in the bed, a fragile figure amidst the pristine white sheets. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling as he called out to her.

"Sandy?" Spencer carefully addressed her, observing the way she shifted on the bed before her gaze slowly met his. "I'm Dr. Spencer—"

"Reid," she finished for him, locking her gaze onto his with a surprising familiarity. "You're the FBI agent she's been talking about."

A moment of surprise shot through him, the realization that she had been talking about him caught him off guard. "She told you about me?"

"On a few occasions," she confessed, and then her gaze sharpened as she looked at him. "You hurt her."

Spencer's heart sank deeper, a heavy burden of guilt weighing him down. "What did she say?"

"She never really told us why she looked so sad that night, and considering you were mostly the topic of conversation when I was with her, I just assumed you had something to do with her mood swings."

His guilt deepened, yet he couldn't help but notice Sandy's choice of words. "Us? You both weren't alone?"

Sandy's gaze held a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What happened?" she pressed instead, her brows furrowing. "What happened after I passed out?"

Spencer took a hesitant step closer to the bed. "What do you remember?"

"I remember inhaling something disgusting."

He nodded gravely. "We suspect the Unsub used Chloroform on you."

Sandy's furrowed brow reflected both her confusion and unease. "What's an Unsub?"

"Unknown Subject, it's a term used when we haven't yet identified a suspect in a crime."

A heavy silence enveloped the room as Sandy absorbed the information. Her thoughts churned, and a growing sense of unease gnawed at her. A thought suddenly hit her. She glanced around the room, her anxiety mounting in the absence of her friend.

The question escaped her lips with an anxious edge to her voice. "Where's Y/n?"

Sandy didn't like the expression that crossed Spencer's face. It was a look that confirmed her worst suspicions, and a wave of dread washed over her as she braced herself for what he was about to say.

"We don't have that information," Spencer confessed, and the shock in her widened eyes was unmistakable. Her lips quivered as her thoughts raced, grappling with the gravity of the situation. She found herself haunted by guilt that this had somehow happened because of her.

"It's my fault," she whispered, her voice a mere breath, but the weight of her confession carried regret.

Spencer now understood what Morgan meant about avoiding self-blame. "It's not your fault," he reiterated. "Listen, there's no use in blaming yourself, what you can do is help us by recalling what you remembered that night."

Sandy's gaze remained troubled, but she eventually opened up about what had transpired, something he didn't see coming.

"I- It was Eric," she admitted, her voice trembling with the admission. "Eric came with me to her house."

Spencer was struck by shock and disbelief, his mind racing to process this revelation.

"Eric Adler?"

She nodded in confirmation, and his world collapsed.

Spencer wasn't perfect. He knew that, like anyone else, he could make mistakes. Typically, he accepted his humanity and the occasional errors that came with it. However, now was not the time for him to make any mistakes, not when her life hung on the line.

He felt like a complete idiot. He was renowned for his intellect and now it seemed as if his stupidity was mocking him. The realization of his own oversight infuriated him and a storm of anger surged through his veins. He was mad at himself, seething with frustration. He hastily fished out his phone and sent a message to Garcia.

Find everything you can on Eric Adler. Now.

Turning his gaze back to Sandy, his features shifted to a more grave demeanor. The urgency in his voice was palpable.

"Tell me everything you know."

Her head was spinning. Y/n groaned at the relentless ache throbbing inside her head. It felt as though a sledgehammer was pounding her skull, every throb sending ripples of pain through her. Her body felt heavy, each limb an effort to move, and her eyelids seemed to be fused.

She managed to shift, and it was at that moment, as her fingers brushed against the coarse bedcover, that she realized she was lying on what appeared to be a bed. The mattress beneath her was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the chaos inside her head. She shifted again, and after countless attempts, she finally managed to blink her eyes open.

"Took you long enough, Sleeping Beauty."

The voice sent a jolt of panic surging through her, eyes widening as she strained to focus on her surroundings. The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the faint, flickering glow of an old lamp perched on top of a crate. Occasional beams of moonlight pierced through the dusty window panes, casting eerie, uneven patterns on the wooden floor.

The unmistakable scent of hay filled her senses, reinforcing the realization that she was in an old, rustic barn, long past its days of use. The walls, rough and weathered, seemed to close in on her, the space surprisingly narrow with the mattress beneath her positioned by the floor.

But that wasn't what surprised her the most. It was Eric, seated on a wooden chair that had clearly seen better days, watching her intensely with a smile on his face.

"If you hadn't woke up earlier, I would have resorted to my own methods," his smile looked even more ominous. "And I can assure you, you wouldn't have liked it."

Her wide eyes remained fixed on him. What happened to her kind coworker? Or her good friend? This was an entirely different man that she knew of. The eerie smile, so out of place in their past interactions, was etched onto his face like a sinister mask.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he pondered, leaning forward, his voice carrying an unsettling calmness. In his hand, she now realized, was a glinting knife, pointed at her way. "It's just me, Y/n, I'm no stranger to you."

He wasn't a stranger then, but he certainly was now. She stared at him, a creeping realization dawning as she slowly sat up, her fingers brushing against something cold and unyielding, and her heart sank.

"I wouldn't move too much if I were you."

Her eyes moved to the chain holding her, the metal bolted securely into the wall. It was a thick, unforgiving shackle, the links rough against her skin, the very sight of it sent shivers down her spine. Fear took a firm hold of her, like a vice squeezing her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She trembled, her voice shaking as she finally managed to speak, "W-Why are you doing this?"

"You're seriously questioning me when you should be thanking me instead?"

Her voice wavered as she responded, her fear making way for a touch of anger. "Thanking you for what? Murdering people?"

"They weren't innocent,” he spat, his anger flaring as he glared at her. "You should know better than to act as if you didn't want them dead."

"I didn't," she assured him.

"You resented them."

She let out a shaky breath. "...maybe, but I would never wish any of them harm." Then she choked out, "Why are you doing this, Eric?"

His features softened, his gaze locked onto hers as he leaned closer. "You really want to know the reason?" He held her gaze with a disturbing tenderness as he whispered, "Because I love you, Sweetheart."

Her heart pounded as his words hung in the air. "No, you don't," she quickly responded, her voice laced with a mixture of fear and disbelief. "If you did, you wouldn't have—"

"I said," he pressed on, the knife still pointing toward her, his eyes locked onto hers with an eerie intensity. "Because I love you."

She knew it was best not to provoke someone holding a knife. Instead, she carefully asked, her voice trembling, "Since when?"

"Ever since you started working with us," he replied with a smile that felt more disconcerting than affectionate. "You've always been very special to me."

"Why... why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I was scared of rejection, I guess. You never took any interest in me, and surprisingly I was fine with that, so the only way I could care for you was to be your friend." He grinned, his smile devoid of any warmth. "And kill people who hurt you, of course."

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over and streaming down her face. Her trembling lips caught them, the taste of her own despair lingering on her tongue, a bitter flavor that seemed to confine the darkness of the moment.

"Oh, stop crying. They were never good enough for you," he chided. He got up and started to pace in front of her, his words steeped in a delusional justification for his actions. "Your scumbag of an ex? He should've seen it coming. That pervert of a lawyer? Should've cut him into pieces. And Jamison? Well, I honestly think I was doing a favor for everyone who hated him."

He gazed at her with a mixture of pity and disdain as she continued to cry, his expression an eerie blend of false sympathy. "Don't worry, I didn't kill them all..." He let out a sigh. "I took pity on Oliver."

"W-What did you do to him?" She cried, her voice breaking with a mix of fear and desperation.

"Gave him a few stabs, but nothing too serious," he replied casually, waving the knife through the air as if discussing a minor inconvenience. "He'll be fine."

Her heart sank at his callous response. "I thought you grew up together."

"I lied about not being close with him the other day, you know? We were best friends, actually. But that's another story to tell," he admitted, his words revealing a chilling aspect of his twisted psyche. He then glared at her, a mix of frustration and hostility in his eyes. "You seriously need to stop looking at me like that. I spared him, it was only a few stabs."

Anger surged within her, ignited by his disturbingly casual demeanor, and she found herself unable to suppress her mounting fury any longer. "You're fucking sick," she spat.

He took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he loomed closer. "You shouldn't talk to me like that," he emphasized, pointing the knife at her once more. "You're chained to the wall, I could do anything to you."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the erratic beat of her heart, though the horror still gripped her like a vice. Her face was etched with a stark, unmistakable expression of fear and disbelief. He rolled his eyes.

"Don't act so scared now, I won't do anything—well, not now, at least," he stated with a laugh, taking a step back, as if he were granting her some temporary respite. "For now... I have yet to finish my vengeance for you."

"V- Vengeance? You think of them as vengeance?" She asked in disbelief. "Oliver didn't even hurt me."

"He kept pestering you when you clearly weren't interested in him, he needed a little lesson," he explained, a chilling justification in his tone. Then he narrowed his eyes at her. "But there is one person who has hurt you recently, and I think we both know who that is."

His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, filling her with a growing sense of dread. Her eyes widened, her voice heavy with desperation. "No! Eric, no, please, don't hurt him—"

"He's not good for you, Y/n. He never will be."

"Eric! Please!" She was beginning to wail, her pleas filled with anguish and despair, as she felt the walls of her world closing in on her. The chains rattled ominously when she moved. "Please..."

"I need to punish him, Sweetheart, he hurt you," he said with a chilling detachment. He gave her a pitiful look. "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows."

"Please—Please don't, Eric," She pleaded desperately, her voice shaking with an overwhelming fear. "No..." She shook her head and sobbed, "Don't h-hurt him... please..."

Her pleas fell on deaf ears, and the disturbing determination in his gaze made it clear that he had made up his mind. He turned around, leaving her in a state of helpless dread. "I'll see you later," he added with a sinister remark. "Don't cry too much while I visit your FBI boyfriend."

As he walked away, the barn's shadows seemed to close in around her. She did exactly the opposite—she relentlessly cried herself to sleep, seeking solace in the safety of her dreams, however fleeting, as she yearned for an end to this nightmare that had somehow become her reality.

>> NEXT PART

a/n: y'all can stop cursing poor Oliver now😭

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sapphic-agent · 1 month

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Let's Talk About How Book 3 Ruined Aang

If you've seen any of my prior ATLA posts, you know that I don't hate Aang. In fact, I quite liked him in Books 1 and 2. He was flawed, as all characters should be, but the show didn't shy away from those flaws or justify them. He was called out for burning Katara and rushing his firebending, Sokka and Katara were rightfully upset when he hid Hakoda's letter, he willingly owns up to the fact that his actions helped drive Toph away, and his entire arc after losing Appa and finding hope again in The Serpent's Path was beautifully done.

(Hell, even in The Great Divide Katara says what Aang did was wrong and he agrees. It's played for comedy, but the show still makes the effort to point out that what he did wasn't the right thing to do. You're just meant to understand that he was fed up and acted off of that)

Those flaws and mistakes were addressed and improved upon and helped Aang to grow as a character.

But for some reason, that aspect of Aang's character was completely flipped in Book 3.

The best examples of this are in both TDBS and EIP. Both the show and the fandom are too quick to brush off that Aang kissed Katara twice without her consent, one of which after she explicitly said she was confused about her feelings.

(And yes, she is angry in response and Aang calls himself an idiot. But after this, it isn't really addressed. They go on like nothing happened for the rest of the episode. Aang's lamentation comes from screwing things up with her romantically, not that he violated boundaries)

The show never really addressed why what he did was wrong. Not only because he wasn't given consent, but also because both times he isn't thinking about what Katara wants. In both instances, Aang is only thinking about himself and his feelings. This is something that persists through a lot of the third book. And by Sozin's Comet it ultimately ruins any character development he had built up in the second book.

One thing I feel was completely disregarded was the concept of having to let go of Katara in order to master the Avatar State.

For me, the implication wasn't that he had to give up love or happiness necessarily. He was emotionally attached to and reliant on Katara, to the point where she was needed to stop him from hurting everyone around him and himself. This is obviously detrimental to his functionality as the Avatar. And the point of him "letting her go" wasn't that he had to stop caring about her, it was that his emotional dependency on her was stopping him from being the Avatar he needed to be and that was what needed to be fixed. I don't even think it's about the Avatar State itself, it's about being able to keep your emotions and duty as the Avatar separate.

(If you look at Roku, he loved and had a wife. It wasn't his love for her that messed everything up, it was his attachment to Sozin. He wasn't able to let Sozin go and not only did he lose his life for it, the world suffered for it. It's the unhealthy attachments that seem to be detrimental, not love itself)

And Aang realizes that in the catacombs, which is how he's able to easily enter the Avatar State and seemingly control it. He let Katara go.

So then why does it seem like his attachment to Katara is not only stronger, but worse in mannerism? He liked Katara in Books 1 and 2- obviously- but he was never overly jealous of Jet or Haru. He only makes one harmless comment in Book 2 when Sokka suggests Katara kiss Jet.

But suddenly he's insanely jealous of Zuko (to the point of getting frustrated with Katara over it), off the basis of the actions of actors in a clearly misrepresentative play. Katara showed a lot more interest in Jet and Aang was completely fine with it.

(Speaking of EIP, Aang's reaction to being played by a woman was interesting. He wore a flower crown in The Cave of Two Lovers. He wove Katara a flower necklace. He wore Kyoshi's clothes and makeup and made a funny girl voice. He willingly responded to Twinkle Toes and had no issue being called that. And for some reason he's genuinely upset about being played by a woman? Aang in Books 1 and 2 would have laughed and enjoyed the show like Toph did. His aversion to feminity felt vastly out of character)

I guess my point is, why did that change? Why was Aang letting go of Katara suddenly irrelevant to the Avatar State? It felt like him letting go was supposed to be a major part of his development. Why did that stop?

Myself and many others have talked about The Southern Raiders. The jist of my thought process about it is his assumption that he knew what was best for Katara. And the episode doesn't really call out why he was wrong. Maybe sparing Yon Rha was better for Katara, maybe it wasn't (the only one who's allowed to make that choice is her). Pushing forgiveness? That was wrong. But the episode has Zuko say that Aang was right when the course of action Katara took wasn't what Aang suggested.

Katara's lesson here was that killing him wouldn't bring back her mother or mend the pain she was going through and that Yon Rha wasn't worth the effort. That's what she realizes. Not that she needed to embrace forgiveness. How could she ever forgive that? The episode saying Aang was right wasn't true. Yes she forgives Zuko, but that wasn't what Aang was talking about. He was specifically talking about Yon Rha.

And that was wrong. Aang can choose the path of forgiveness, that's fine. That's his choice. But dismissing Katara's trauma in favor of his morals and upbringing wasn't okay.

I know it sounds like this is just bashing Kataang. But it's not simply because I don't like Kataang, in my opinion it brings down Aang's character too, not just Katara's. But let's steer away from Kataang and Katara for a minute.

The one thing that solidifies Aang's character being ruined in Book 3 for me is the fact that he- at the end of the story- does the same thing he did in the beginning.

He runs away when things get hard.

Aang couldn't make the choice between his duty and his morals. So he ran. Maybe it wasn't intentional, but subconsciously he wanted an out. And this is really disappointing when one of the things he was firm about in Book 2 was not running anymore. His character went backwards here and that's not even getting into the real issue in Sozin's Comet.

There's been contention about the Lion Turtle intervention. For many- including myself- it's very deus ex machina to save Aang from having to make a hard decision. And that in turn doesn't reflect kindly on his character.

Everyone- Sokka, Zuko, Roku, Kyoshi, Kuruk, and Yangchen (who was another Airbender and was raised with the same beliefs he was and would understand which was the whole point of him talking to her)- told him he had to kill Ozai. They all told him it was the only way. And he refused to listen to any of them, rotating through his past lives until he was given the answer he wanted.

And before anyone says that I'm bashing Aang for following his culture, I'm not. Ending the war peacefully, in my opinion, wasn't the problem. In a way, I think it allowed the world to heal properly. However, that doesn't make up for the fact that Aang refused to make a choice and face the consequences of that choice. Instead, he's given an out at the very last second.

Even if he couldn't kill Ozai and someone else had to deliver the final blow, that would have been better than the Lion Turtle showing up and giving him a power no one's ever had before. It would have been a good compromise, he doesn't have to have blood directly on his hands but what needs to be done needs to still get done. It would also show that being the Avatar isn't a burden he has to bear alone. That when things get hard, he can't run away but he can rely on the people closest to him to help him through hard decisions.

All these issues aren't necessarily a problem with Aang. Aang prior to Book 3 didn't have most of these problems. This is a problem with the way he was handled

#aang critical #anti aang #tagging just in case #i don't want aang stans accusing me of cross tagging #it's really not anti aang tho #long post #anti bryke #this is their fault #look how they massacred my boy #anti kataang #katara deserved better #she's not the focus here #but i thought I'd add that there #character analysis #atla critical #anti book 3 #which is kind of an exaggeration #because a lot of book 3 is great #it's just most of the latter half

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thelibrarian1895 · 1 month

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Bruce is the restraining bolt

Let's say that Bruce "dies" again. Tim, of course, figures it's another temporary thing and bonus he doesn't need to risk another organ to prove it this time. That being said, Bruce isn't around to stop them now. Dick doesn't feel the need to be the dad this time since Bruce will be back. He's the big brother, the babysitter at best. Jason has never felt the need to step up into a parental role for any of his sibs before and he's not going to stop now. Cass won't kill, that is her line, beyond that, she's not anyone's parent either. Tim is one bad day away from being a supervillain, he seriously needs a vacation but at the same time he needs something that will keep him busy or he will get paranoid (thanks B for the trauma) and so he's not going to stop anyone, Duke doesn't have the experience to know when or if he should stop any of his sibs, steph and barbara are staying out of it as while they are family they consider themselves cousins at best no matter what B says, and no one is going to let Damian boss them around.

That being established, B is gone, Alfred is fretting but not inclined to stop anyone anyway, the kids decide that while the bat is away...

When Bruce returns, Alfred is just returning from a spa trip his beloved grandchildren insisted that he go on since he deserved a nice break and they even investigated to make sure the spa wasn't a scam or front! While Alfred was gone and Bruce was "dead", all Black Mask's warehouses had been mysteriously destroyed with large explosions that Bruce had previously forbidden because he was worried about collateral damage since some of those warehouses were sandwiched by other storage facilities and places where people squatted. (Steph and Jason, both very affronted because they are professionals B! And yes, there were also glitter bombs involved, it made the fire extra pretty with the different colors).

Furthermore, Lex Luthor is no longer the majority shareholder of his own company anymore, that would be Tim now, and all of Lex's employees are rejoicing since they're all getting a pay raise that brings them from the legal bare minimum to not just a living wage but twice that plus benefits even for those who aren't full timers (which is basically everyone, lex never wanted to get benefits for anyone). Lex is also being investigated for embezzling, money laundering, domestic and international terrorism, and the trafficking of minors (kon). Lex chose a very bad time to make Kon sad and Tim took that personally.

Bruce also discovered that Tim's childhood home, aka the drake's old place next door for the given value of next door, has been demolished and that whole area is now a botanical garden and registered wildlife sanctuary. (Damian with assistance and permission from Tim since technically the land was in Tim's name, Damian persuaded Poison Ivy to help while also monitoring to ensure she didn't slip in anything detrimental and also breaking up the exotic animal smuggling ring that B had been trying to keep from him to prevent this very thing. Tim, in the meantime, just happened to have a number of people on hand more than happy to work in a botanical garden/wildlife sanctuary and no, none of those people were ever formerly ninja who answered to Ra's before realizing that Red Robin was a far better employer, why would you ever think they were?)

And of course, the Joker is dead. None of his kids are fessing up to this. If pressed, they will cry, even Jason, and say that they thought Joker killed their dad and they wished it had been them because they missed him so much! (It was Dick and Barbara, Babs faked the paperwork for Dick to go in as an orderly, Dick, in disguise, gave the Joker altered medication via injection and made sure to get some air bubbles in for good measure, official COD was a totally natural brain aneurysm, so sad, no autopsy needed, burn the body)

Duke was a bit of a wild card and ended up hanging out with Selina, picking up a few extra skills, and using those skills to break into various mansions and apartments of the filthy rich to steal back stolen art and artifacts and return them to museums in their country of origin so they can be enjoyed by everyone (he watched indiana jones recently and the "it belongs in a museum" popped into his head a lot, he did wear a particular hat while he was committing his heists) It was nice potential step mother and step son bonding time

And finally, Cass causes Ra's Al Ghul to lose a particular appendage, one that the lazarus pit hasn't been able to grow back for him thanks to a little consultation with Constantine beforehand. She then went to hang out at Themyscira and got some very pretty bracelets.

Bruce is thinking very hard about just turning around. He takes a nap instead and then he lectures his beloved nutcases about personal safety, the law, respecting what is essentially dibs on certain super villains, and all the other boring stuff he's tried to impose on them over the years.

#bruce wayne #batfamily #batman #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #signal #stephanie brown #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #crack fic idea #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne

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lolli-popples · 3 months

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The Missing Link in Scott's Characterization

(Wrote this in a random document and I think it's good so I'm loosely transcribing it here)

These are some of my thoughts on a crucial facet of Scott's character in the Life Series that I think is overlooked by the fandom.

From my personal viewpoint, people put a lot of emphasis on Scott's caring about his allies over everything else. I think this is an important characteristic. However, I think this being shown as the most central trait is a detriment to how people read his involvement with the overarching narrative. It might be less of a problem if he wasn't directly involved with the final fight of nearly every Life Series.

Because of this combination of things, his main interaction with fans' reading of the final fight is being willing to do anything to make sure his friends win. It gives people the tendency to attribute some victories partially to him, which upsets people who want main read of the story to focus entirely on the winner. But this also has meant that one of Scott's main traits is overlooked.

Just as much, and often, more than Scott values his allies, he values fairness. To showcase this, let's look at Limited and Last Life, where he had the most control on how the final fight took place.

In Last Life, when it's down to the final four, Scott *could* have teamed up with Pearl, his ally all season, to kill Martyn and Ren. That aligns with wanting either your or your allies to win, no? But he doesn't. He suggests they split to the 4 corners of the map and have a fair fight on equal footing. Very fair.

With Limited Life it's even more apparent. Scott and Martyn have an impressive amount of time. They could both still die multiple times. Impulse is running out, and there's a numbers advantage. They could have killed Impulse and Scott could have let Martyn win, or Scott could have given Martyn his time to fight Impulse alone. But instead, he suggests they all go down to the same amount and have a fair fight.

In both situations, Scott puts fairness *over* an alliance victory. Even though Limited Life didn't end up ending fairly, that had nothing to do with Scott.

Double Life certainly has the strongest claim on Scott "letting someone win". That his death is an apology for abandoning Pearl.

But if you listen to what Scott says in the finale, he never apologizes. He says he didn't think they'd get this far, he says she deserves this more than him, and then he says the iconic "Tilly death do us part."

Scott didn't fight Pearl. But I don't think it came out of remorse. I think that too, came from a sense of fairness. Which is that Pearl, by all accounts, DOES deserve this win. If they fought it would basically be up to a draw. To chance. Scott has every chance of winning. But if you go over the events of Scott's final episode, he mostly runs. He survives. While Pearl 1v2'd two separate pairs and won! The only reason Pearl hasn't killed Scott already, who has been her enemy all season, is because they were randomly assigned to be soul-linked. A concept Scott has fought since the very beginning. He knows that while he never hurt their chances, Pearl is the reason they are here, and Pearl is the reason he is here. It wouldn't be fair for Pearl to lose to what is basically a coin flip. So, he doesn't leave it up to random chance.

So yes, Scott is loyal and does care about his allies, he proves that again and again. But the way he is involved in how the series end shows that his sense of order and fairness are equally important. Also, I think viewing his contributions from this angle help remedy some of the reasons people don't like his usual characterization because of how it effects the agency of other characters.

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lionheartedmusings · 9 months

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i've seen a lot of people talk about pomme being mischaracterised by the fandom, especially when it comes to her design (this one particularly was on the subreddit) and how she's usually depicted as this sweet little girl, which doesn't match up with her warrior side.

i actually… hate this take? now, i totally get that pomme does get mischaracterised by people who aren't usually privy to her for long periods of time, but why is her femininity out of character? how is portraying her as girly and sweet and kind somehow in detriment of her personality in any way?

pomme is kind. she's kind to an extreme, she's communicative and loving, and deeply emotionally intelligent. she's by far one of the genuinely kindest eggs, and deeply understanding of other people and their actions. she's sweet, and caring, and careful of the people around her — she feels horrible about killing foolish, and dislikes being teased about it because it was an accident and she didn't mean it. she'll take other people into account every time, and try her best to have healthy communication at every turn (i.e. her letter to tallulah yesterday).

she's also a warrior, one with the best pvp and pve skills of the eggs, well trained and deadly if need be. i don't think i've ever seen her be downed under any circumstance other than the code, and let me tell you girlie's been in some tough positions where being downed would've been normal. she's loving, but she's not an idiot and she's certainly going to kill instead of being killed.

she's also deeply wounded and paranoid, with her potions and quick switch armor, and reflexes that are frankly only rivalled by bad's. when richas went down, it took bad around 20 seconds to get to him (yes, felps was there but bad didn't know and better safe than sorry) but it wasn't bad who got him up — when pomme realised what was happening, she instantly went to his room. by the time bad arrived, richas was one second from being up. when she needs to tp the eggs, pomme is almost always faster than the parents, because she knows being fast is the difference between a scare and a dead sibling.

she wants elquackity dead. she named her scythe "revenge" because she wants him to pay for what he did to dapper. she's not scared of elquackity for herself, she's pissed the fuck off because no one touches her brother and lives. and this isn't bad's influence on her, mind you, this is pomme being pomme. the only thing that's more important than kindness and survivability is revenge when people harm those she loves — richas canonically had to hold her down in ninho the day dapper was kidnapped, because she wanted to go help the adults.

yes, pomme's the baby, but she's by far one of the most capable eggs in just about any regard. she's traumatised and wounded, but she knows when to put her own emotions aside and focus on the task at hand. she'll dig holes to whine about being called the french assassin, but she wants elquackity's head on a spike. she's gentle and caring and not afraid to talk about her emotions, but she's also cold as ice when need be.

my point being, pomme is a well developed character with a lot of nuance but that doesn't mean portraying her as a sweet little girl is wrong — that's still who she is. there's just layers to her, and i kind of feel iffy on the idea that portraying her in a very feminine way is somehow wrong or betraying who she is. she's the epitome of "don't mistake my kindness for weakness", all in a cute beret and pigtails.

#qsmp #qsmp pomme #when did pomme become my favourite egg? i have no clue actually #dapper and her are tied for first but she's rising fast on the leaderboards #something something femininity as a strength and not a weakness #something something the gentlest people can be your end if you push them

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bookofbonbon · 4 months

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I really love you keep him there/christmas kiss! you mention that it’s common theme amongst polite capitol society children to have known each other their entire lives, did this also include sejanus when he arrived in the capitol? and was she friends with him? 🥺

you'll never belong - coriolanus snow.

Pairings/Characters: Coriolanus Snow x Reader. Sejanus Plinth. Arachne Crane.

Word Count: 1.1k+.

Apart of: You Keep Him There. Christmas Kiss - however, these can absolutely all be read as stand alones.

A/N: I know this wasn't a request but, it does answer your question and it's an opportunity to introduce one of the reasons why she doesn't 'like' Coriolanus. Also, military family = her mother's side; blizzards = father's side (murdoch is paternal grandfather).

Heavensbee Hall buzzes with excitement, every available standing and sitting space filled with Academy faculty, graduates and their parents, bar yours - not that it mattered to you. For the last ten years, July 4th has been a high priority and exceptionally busy day for your family with your parents always personally overseeing the network’s airing of the Reaping for each District - not even your graduation could take priority over that. Not that you’d expect it to either, you had barely scraped a pass; it was with the help of one person that you were graduating at all, one person you were currently looking for and had finally spotted in the corner with his parents.

You quickly tell your grandparents, “I’ll be back.”

But before you can step away from them, you’re immediately stopped by them - the pair acting as eyes and ears for your parents. You didn’t blame your parents for the precaution and if it had been up to you, you wouldn’t have been here at all but, instead with them. Unfortunately for you however, they had asserted that you were to attend your graduation and remain present for the entire ceremony - no exceptions. They’d even gone so far as to inform your Aunt to keep an eye out for you since she’d be present as a guest of honour.

“Where are you going?” your grandfather asks gruffly.

You nod towards Sejanus Plinth and show him the medium-sized gift box in your hand.

“I need to give this to him.”

There’s a look of disdain mixed with suspicion in his eyes as he looks to where you nod, at the Plinth’s, then back at you until finally he relents but, not without a warning to remain in his sight.

You want to roll your eyes, your mother knew what she was doing when she sicked her military parents on you.

Weaving through several bodies to get to him, you catch bits and pieces of conversations here and there. Only one catches your attention however, involving your three elite cohort - the topic bringing you to a halt.

“... I don’t like him, Arachne. I tolerate him. He’s district.”

“No need to guess who the three of you are talking about,” you interrupt Coriolanus, Arachne and Festus.

“Well, well, well,” Arachne drawls with her nasally voice. “So nice of you to actually show but, shouldn’t you be in the Academy Rouge? You certainly didn’t place in the top 24.”

“You know it’s funny you mention that, Arachne, because Murdoch actually offered to buy me your place in the top 24 but, out of the kindness of my heart, I told my grandfather, no.”

Thick tension fills the air, Arachne’s red painted lips dropping into a scowl, furthermore when you lean in close and remind her of her place.

“Never forget, Arachne - truth doesn’t matter, only perception and I control the narrative, always,” you smile, saccharine. “Not you.”

You want to roll your eyes at the stubborn look of hidden terror on her face. As if you’d actually do anything to the detriment of any of them - Murdoch had successfully hammered unwavering allegiance to this little group here - The Old Guard of the Elite - into you but, still... they could use a little reminding every now and then of their place.

Stifled laughter from both boys breaks the tension and you divert your attention to them, specifically Coriolanus; your eyes immediately finding the red rose pinned to his waistcoat, the smallest of thorns still present on its stalk.

“A rose,” you touch the stalk gently. “So, very fitting of you. Beautiful to look at but harmful if you touch.”

You allow the thorn to prick your finger, a little bulb of blood blossoming on the tip. You hold your finger up to show him.

“A shame that not everyone knows this,” you tell him disdainfully.

Recognition flashes in his eye, you’re talking about Sejanus - you excuse yourself from the group, carrying onto your final destination who was already headed your way but not to you.

“Hey,” Sejanus greets you with a small smile when you plant yourself in his path.

You bypass the greetings, “where are you going?”

You already know where he’s going and you’re not surprised when he tells you - to Coriolanus - but, you asked as a courtesy.

“Why?”

“There’s something I need to tell him before the ceremony starts.”

“There’s no need to talk in code, I already know about the Plinth Prize or should I say lack thereof.”

Sejanus looks at you puzzled but, before he can ask how you know, you provide him with the answer.

“You all seem to forget who my Aunt is, she’s the one who told me.”

Recognition becomes Sejanus and he nods in understanding.

“Hey, listen.” You step closer to him. “You should really stop hanging out with Coriolanus.”

“And why is that?”

“He’s not your friend.”

This makes him laugh, “oh and you are?”

“Compared to him? Absolutely I am. Sejanus, you could have all the money in the world and it will never make them- him like you.”

Sejanus bristles at your words, becoming defensive - you don’t mean to hurt him but, you do.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” he tells you bitterly. “As if I needed another reminder that I’ll never belong here.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not trying to remind you that you don’t belong here, I’m trying to tell you that they don’t care about you. Coriolanus Snow does not care about you.”

“And how exactly would you know that when you only care about yourself?” he snaps at you. "He has been the only person who has ever been my fri-"

“Well then you are as stupid as you are willful, Sejanus Plinth because Coriolanus Snow only cares about Coriolanus Snow,” you cut him off.

Irritation seeps into your voice because what he said wasn’t true about Coriolanus or about you.

You were fiercely protective of those you care for and love - your military grandfather said it would be your downfall - and right now, despite your unwavering allegiance to the Old Guard, you were stupidly trying to protect him.

“He’s going to get you into trouble or worse- but you know what? What do I care, right? So, whatever- here.” you shove the box into his hand. “My thanks for your help.”

You don’t give him time to process, swiftly turning and walking away once you feel his hands take hold of the medium-sized gift box - baked goods from District 2.

That would be the last conversation you’d had with Sejanus Plinth before he was hanged for treason in District 12 only two months later.

You’d hardly known him and yet you cared for him; his death still hurt.

The truth of Sejanus's death would find you eventually, haunting your relationship with Coriolanus; unable to completely trust him.

Can you guess where the Blizzard family has made their wealth?

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #arachne crane #coriolanus snow x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #coryo snow #coryo x reader #I’m sorry I don’t know how to tag this #the bulk is Sejanus x reader #but the actual pairing is Coriolanus x reader

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faulterge1st · 3 months

Text

Doing it to Compensate (Not Love)

Now, I don't usually do this, but I wrote a really rough ficlet for any Call of Duty character x reader with a dash of rivals to lovers (younger reader is heavily implied)

It was written with Horangi in mind (blatant favoritism), but you could imagine this with any character in COD that fits the mindset

I don't want it to rot in my documents, so here u go

He resented you, he hated how stubborn you were about how you were right.

He hated how you would preach how much better you were than him at a certain skill, even if he was superior to you in rank. He hated how you would smirk everytime you saw him miss the bullseye during gun training. He hated how you would roll your eyes at him at every terrible unhealthy choice he made during meals, judging his barely sustainable appetite despite you having the oddest cravings he had seen. He despised you, absolutely detested your attitude.

But ever since that day, ever since you clung to him with heavy breaths in need of assistance, he just couldn't help but find you absolutely gorgeous. This was the first time you ever depended on him for anything, gripping his shoulder like he was the only thing that could save you.

He could remember the image of you covered in mud, your untrained fingers coated in your own blood while his rougher hands held your wound closed. It wasn't a pleasant sight, in fact, it was disturbing. But to him? He saw your defeated image as a portrait of a sorrowful martyr painted by a historic romantic, a tragedy cursed by the heavens.

He felt an unfound pity and worry seeing you like this. You were confident, believing in an ability you haven't fully mastered could help you defend in battle, but here you were, met with the reality of war. In that moment, he had just realized how important you were to him, how your confidence didn't make up in your lack of skill. Sure, he enjoyed making you groan in contempt everytime he commented on how much of an amateur you were if you missed a chance to kick him during sparring or how you were a terrible soldier if you missed a practice target just by a centimeter, but those times were accompanied by mischievous grins and amused smirks. They were all in good fun. You genuinely suffering? It wasn't any fun for him. He couldn't handle seeing you hunched over, leaning on his shoulder over a wound that could've taken your life. He just couldn't bear the thought of you being taken from him.

Since that day, he realized that for all the teasing and snarky comments made from good intentions, he'd make it up to you now just by making your life easier.

Ever since that day, he chose to make you your coffee, no matter how painfully sweet or disgustingly bitter it was. He chose to give you a pat on the shoulder every time you shot a straight bullseye, and chose to praise your efforts everytime you sent him flying back on his arse during training. You deserved it. He just couldn't go back to treating you like shit after that day, because it made him realize how he could lose you at any moment. He didn't want the last words he ever told to you to be a criticism of your skills or a sarcastic judgement of how your inexperience made him better than you. He had to make it special, because he loved you.

But he sure as hell will never tell you that. Instead, he'll tell you that you are a valued soldier, that losing you would be detrimental to the team. He would place his hands on your hand, your shoulder, or any place on your body that was subtle enough that you couldn't realize what he was truly feeling. It didn't carry his devotion nor his loyalty to you. It didn't send the message of how much he cared. But, it will always be close enough to an "I love you" that he could ever manage to tell you.

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bagdaddyb · 6 months

Note

Hi!! Oh my gosh seeing you posting again was such a huge joy and surprise for me I’m so glad to read your new work!!!

I was wondering if you could write a wanda maximoff x fem!reader ABO fic where either Wanda or reader are new to the team with a whole bunch of pining where they eventually figure out that they are each others mate? You can make either Wanda or reader alpha/omega!

It’s super okay if you aren’t feeling this request, either way I’m so excited to read more of the amazing work you share with us!!!

Hiiiii! So I got super carried away with this and I originally intended for this to be mean emo Wanda but sweet soft Wanda took over, I hope you enjoy! 💗

Pairing: alphag!p Wanda x omega fem! spyReader

Warning: Sickeningly Sweet, 18+ MINOR DNI NSFW NSFW

AN: Wanda 🥰

You'd only been on the team for a year when the mess with Ultron happened. It all happened so fast, you could barely process everything happening around you before something new would arise. Sitting across from Natasha sipping coffee as you spied on the twin alphas you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks. Natasha kept glancing their way while your focus stayed on her, two people staring was more suspicious than one. You and the red head proved to be a good team over the past year. Two omega spies flying under everyones radar. The world still assumed the Black Widow a one woman show and no one would ever believe her to be an omega. The breeze felt nice on your back, bringing a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before looking down at your coffee.

"This has been a real shit show eh?"

Your voice held a familiar accent one you'd grown used to using under your many aliases. Natasha's eyes returned to you as she sipped her own drink.

"Not anymore than usual."

You hummed in response eyes wondering to the innocent civilians around you. Sipping your own cup you wonder if life would be better among them. Oblivious to the realities of the world to caught up in your own day to day menial task. The weight of this job seemed to weigh a bit heavier on your shoulders everyday, the question of wether the people you save amounts to the people you don't plaguing.

"S toboy vse v poryadke?" (Are you alright?)

The red head ask and you nod eyes returning to hers.

"Tired, it seems everytime we try to relax something detrimental in the world happens. I wonder what it would do without us."

A small chuckle escapes Natasha despite the truth in your words, her eyes shooting to the pair on her right once more. Though not a 'graduate' of the red room you hold your own tramatic story. Experimented on in the basement of Oscorp for years you'd been turned into a lab rat by the corpo bastards that owned the building. You'd escaped only three years ago, changed. Transformed into a human machiene, non-aging, ridiculously strong with a sirens song. You did the only thing you could and played the cards you were delt. Seducing mediocre alphas out of millions before any one even got a whiff of your existence but you could truly only thank Natasha for that. It wasn't until Natasha was taken down but the Black Widow kept striking that shield realized there was more than met the eye. It was Tony himself that went undercover to catch you and honestly had he not been an Avenger with intel he would of ended up caught himself. Another rich egotistical alpha who thought himself on top of the world. You didn't go down easy and spent a week in a cell before even uttering a word. In retrospect it all seems silly now you often think about how much time you wasted fighting the people who wanted nothing more than to help you. Eyes lifting to Natasha's face you can't help but feel greatful for the opportunity she's given you to help others like you.

"They're on the move."

You hum in acknowledgment before finishing off your drink mind finally wondering to the matter at hand. Your mission was recruitment nothing more. Ultron having been made unreasonably strong by the twins he somehow came to be in alliance with. You'd gained enough information merely listening in on their conversation, so you and Natasha retreated returning to the group in order to solidify your advances. Standing in time with Natasha you link your arm in hers smiling before chatting away about absolutely nothing in russian. Missing the way a certain alpha glanced your way when your scent drifted down wind. It only took twenty four hours for everything to go to shit almost a record breaker in your books. Ultron whineded up to be nothing after the male alpha was nere fatally injured the red headed woman taking care of him like clockwork. Luckily your team stood nearby able to quickly extract the alpha towards safety and medical attention. You worked efficiently getting him secured before moving to help the rest of your team fight off Ultron's bots and it isn't until the end when you stand with the support of Thor that you realize the red headed alpha had come with you. Returning to the compound there is tension on the quinjet. The group unsure what to do with the twin alphas who quite literally just tried to murder them and it causes you to roll your eyes.

"You could at least not talk about them as if they aren't right there."

You scold before moving towards the pair. The red head having been unmoving crouched over her unconscious brother.

"Privet." (Hello.)

You say making yourself known as you approach the alpha causing her to glance up at you.

"On dolzhen polnost'yu vyzdorovet'." (He should make a full recovery.)

You speak in a whisper trying to be soft.

"YA uveren, chto on ne khotel by, chtoby vy bespokoilis'." (I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry.)

The woman merely returns her eyes to the unconscious man below her.

"Will you lock us up? Treat us once again like dogs?"

Your eyebrows raise and your posture straightens.

"No of course not, everyone deserves a second chance. You believed you were fighting for the right thing, there are many on this team who have been in a similar circumstance. Do not believe simply because we are labeled supergeroi that none of us have a dark past." (Superheroes)

With that you take your leave allowing the woman to be with her loved one. Upon returning to the compound you go into seclusion, you needed a break both mentally and physically. Just a few days where the world wasn't ending and it was entirely up to you to save it. Six days later you emerge slightly re-energized and fresh ready for the next catastrophe. The first place you visit is the gym already hearing Natasha's scolding on breaking your routine as you pass the common room you see the two twins on the couch alone. In this light you see them both clearly, while they hold the title twin they couldn't look more different. You study them both your eyes lingering on the red head. She was an attractive alpha, very attractive. You hear the tv playing but don't recognize the program they have on. Detouring into the room you catch their attention waving as you approach.

"Hello, I am rather embarrassed to say we never formally met. I am (Y/N) nice to meet you both."

You bow your head in greeting sending them a bright smile and both of them seem to freeze obviously caught off guard by your friendly approach. The male recovers first standing up before bowing his head back and sticking out his hand.

"Pietro, and that is my sestra Wanda."

You recognize his accent reaching to grip his hand in yours.

"A pleasure, I hope you two are adjusting well."

It isn't until then his sister jumps up a slight flush on her cheeks.

"It has been familiar, we are rather alienated but that is how it has always been."

You hum in response fighting back the disappointment in your expression.

"Don't fret, we are a group of antisocial extroverts forced to be in a group setting. Well expect for Tony but it just takes us all time to engage and meet new people, they will come around before long."

You finish with a smile.

"Have you two at least been taken care of? Food, water, lodging?"

They nod simultaneously and its enough for you.

"Good well I'm off to the gym, don't be strangers."

With that you leave not taking note of the full face flush on the woman's face.

"Kto-nibud' nashel svoyu sestru-omegu?" (Has someone found their omega sister?)

Pietro says in a teasing tone and Wanda punches him in the shoulder muttering at him to shut up. The moment you cross the threshold of the gym you flinch.

"Nu posmotrite, kto eto." (Well look who it is.)

"Can we skip past the part where you scold me so I can just apologize?"

You ask turning to meet Natasha's sharp gaze.

"Will your muscles magically regain their mass?"

"No."

You sigh accepting your defeat beginning to stretch as Natasha begins her speech on commitment. It is another four days before everyone finally comes around to the twins slotting them in as if theyed been there since the beginning just as they had you. Walking towards the gym you release a content sigh, a full ten days since the world seemed as though it'd collapse. What bliss. Quickly looking up your eyes fantically search for some wood unwilling to risk jinxing yourself.

"Dobroye utro." (Good morning.")

You hear from behind turning to be greeted by Wanda.

"Good morning indeed. Off for your morning cuppa are you?"

You ask and Wanda merely nods in response fighting back a yawn.

"Not a morning person?"

You ask with a smile walking beside Wanda.

"Not at all."

She says somewhat grumpily.

"Then what are you doing up at six a.m?"

You ask with a laugh and Wanda has to fight back a blush. She couldn't admit that she woke up at this time merely to see you every morning but what could she say.

"I like to cook but I'm not very good at it.... so I practice early before the others wake up."

The words spill out of her mouth quickly unable to think of anything better and you beam your white smile at her.

"Well how about tomorrow you sleep in till eight then I can help you learn, I am an amazing cook. I even know how to make some traditional dishes."

Wanda can't help the flush that comes to her face this time and it makes you feel a tingle inside.

"Okay."

The red head responds and you nod giving her arm a little reassuring squeeze as you come upon the kitchen.

"Good luck dorogoy." (Dear)

You say before continuing onto the gym and Wanda is sure her face matches her hair. Sure enough the next morning Wanda doesn't head towards the kitchen instead she spends the morning pacing her room anxiety ridden. You'd said for her to sleep in but how could she when you agreed to spend alone time with her. She couldn't tell Pietro and deal with his repeated teasing so she kept the information in slowly but surely having a meltdown. As she paced she played with her hair, bit her finger, twiddled her thumbs. God she couldn't do this. She'd literally been an experiment for Hydra and never felt this nervous in her life. The time passed quickly. To quickly. Right as she truly began to spiral there was a knock at her door, eyes shooting to the clock she realizes its already eight o'clock. Brushing off her clothes quickly before taking a few deep breaths and recuperating she opens her door. The moment her eyes land on you it all seems for naught, your hair is tied back. You wear tights and a tshirt covered by an apron. Your eyes spakle matched by your bright smile and Wanda feels herself melt a bit.

"I figured you'd meet me in the kukhnya." (Kitchen)

You say with a giggle and Wanda becomes a tomato realizing its not only eight but eight eleven.

"I'm sorry I slept in and lost all track of time."

You hum with a smile clearly not mad at all before turning to be on your way.

"All is fine I just didn't want to start without you."

Wanda follows behind you closing her door quickly. Her eyes wonder your body not being able to help staring at your ass.

"Ty slushayesh'?" (Are you listening?)

Wanda's eyes shoot up attention back on your voice.

"I asked what your favorite dish is."

"Oh um I love traditional pirozhki, my mother used to make them just slightly burnt at the edges. The taste reminds me of home."

You turn and smile softly her way.

"Perfect then that's what we will make, cooking can seem overwhelming but it isn't as scary as many think. I always recommend learning to cook for yourself first because it is much easier than cooking for others."

In the kitchen you gather the suppiles, you cooked often so the ingredients for this dish were easily found.

"I'll have you make the dough, it is all simply measurements so I'll do no more than verbal instructions."

You say as you prepare the area for Wanda.

"Here put this on, gotta protect your clothes and tie your hair back no one wants hair in their food."

Handing the apron to Wanda while standing by waiting. You bite your lip as you watch her. Running her fingers through silky red locks before pulling it up exposing her neck to you. She wore grey sweatpants and a baggy t. The sweatpants doing little to hide the member between her legs and you press your thighs together pleasurably. Wanda on the other hand was trying to think about how to see this lie through. She was an amazing cook, taking the responsibility of her brother from a young age. How was she going to play clueless. She should of at least said a dish she truly wasn't aware of how to make but when you asked her favortie food she couldn't help but answer honestly. You talked Wanda through the steps praising her for being a natural when the dough came out well. Leaving it to make the filling.

"What did your mom fill hers with? I do a simple meat and rice mixture since it goes along with my bulk."

Wanda nods along as she listens debating a moment before responding.

"Lets make them like yours, I've never had them any other way and I'd be eager to try."

You smile brightly at the alpha before nodding in response. Again you talk her through it always believing hands on with clear instruction was the best way to learn any skill. It gave the student mutiple ways to intake the information and made it harder to forget. Once the process is complete you help Wanda cut and stuff the dough, this part of the process being the longest and most tedious. You leave her to fry them as she likes since she'd mentioned her mom let them cook a bit longer and instead move to clean around her. Never a fan of a messy workspace. You hum as you clean, mindlessly really. It seems a tune that always floats around you. One Wanda is sure she's heard you hum before. By the time Wanda is done cooking you've cleaned the kitchen and are able to sit down and enjoy the meal with her. Of course the moment doesn't last and before either of you can even take a bite the smell of food draws in hungry Avengers.

"Mne vsegda nravitsya, kogda ty gotovish'." (I always love when you cook.)

Natasha says entering first, the smell of traditional food equivalent to a cat with its automatic feeder. Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Sam all slowly trickle in after stomachs growling audibly making you laugh.

"I suppose if I didn't cook every once in a while no one would eat around here hmmm?"

The group shares a laugh as they line up one by one to make plates.

"But in all honesty this meal is thanks to Wanda not me, I merely talked her through the steps."

Wanda can't hide the pink that dust her cheeks and all is going well until a certain twin walks in.

"Pirozhki! You always cook the best food sestra."

The blonde kisses his sisters head as he passes by and you can't help the eyebrow that raises in response.

"Always hmmm?"

You hum and Wanda is saved by the entrance of Thor who could of eaten the entire helping had he got here first.

"Mighty (Y/N) your meals are always most invigorating."

You smile at the God and try not laugh when you see his downcast face once he realizes he is the last one to show. Wiping your face after you finish you excuse yourself it was already nearing noon and you still hadn't even looked at the moutain of paperwork on your desk. Wanda watches you go. Over the next three weeks you and Wanda grow closer she begins training with you and Natasha in the mornings and you read with her sometimes in the afternoons, you don't question her about Pietro's comment after your cooking fiasco and Wanda never says anything about it because that woukd mean admitting to you that she was desperate to spend time with you.

"Soo?"

Natasha ask as the two of you jog around the gardens. It was early afternoon in fall, the cool winds combating your rising body heat making the jog enjoyable.

"Nothing."

"Yebat' will she ever make a move?" (Fuck)

You merely shrug.

"I don't know, I'll start showing signs of heat by the end of the week if that doesn't trigger her there's no hope."

Natasha laughs at that.

"Tak khochetsya al'fu, da?" (So eager for an alpha eh?)

"Not just any alpha, Wanda."

The week passes slowly and as the weekend gets closer your pheromones get stronger. The team knew your heat was approaching as they kept a calander for the Alphas so they could know when to distance, well everyone except Wanda apparently. Its Thursday night by the time she's had enough of your distance and decides to ask why you aren't at the table for dinner with the rest of the team.

"Where's (Y/N), I swear I haven't seen her all week."

Natasha sends a small smirk Wanda's way before Steve speaks up.

"Her heat is approaching so she is keeping extra distance for everyones saftey, she should come back around a week or so from today."

Pink hue coats Wanda's cheeks as the thought of you in heat takes over her mind and the pink only gets darker as her hard on begins to form in her pants. Her mind plummets into thoughts about your slick, and body. Thoughts about filling you with her seed and you being full with her pups causes her to be embarrassed by how hard she's become. If not for the table her bulge would be hard to miss. Wanda remains in a fog for the rest of dinner try as she might she couldn't get her mind off mating you and as everyone stands to part ways she remains seated making the excuse that she'd clean up the kitchen. Wanda strained painfully against her pants she could almost smell you now.

Rubbing your sides you walk towards the kitchen dinner should be over by now and you're starving. You need to get as many calories in as you can before you succumb to your heat tomorrow. The pain was slowly starting to set in and you'd be lying if you said you were looking foreward to the next seven days. You let out a groan as you turn the corner a sudden sharp pain stabbing your side. As you enter the threshold of the kitchen goosebumps rise on your skin the familiar smell of Wanda infultrating your nose before your eyes lock with the alphas. You're almost sure you see Wanda begin to tremble but you quickly begin to back away.

"I'm sorry I thought everyone would be gone by now."

You go to retreat from the kitchen and Wanda stands so quickly her chair falls behind her. In a second she's in your face grabbing you softly by the jaw making you look at her.

"Omega."

She whispers as she sniffs at you rubbing her nose against your cheek before falling to your scent gland.

"Mate."

She whispers again and you chirp. Your omega finally satisfied being acknowledged by your alpha. For a few minutes nothing happens, the two of you stand there relishing eachothers presence. You chirp at her as she lightly growls at you and you feel satisfied, whole even. Then you are painfully reminded of your situation causing you to sharply intake air and groan. Wanda growls louder at the noise of your distress and you whimper.

"It hurts."

Wanda's grip on your jaw becomes tighter, pushing you into the wall before pressing her own body against yours.

"Tell me where it hurts, I'll take care you shchenok." (Puppy)

You groan again, your heat suddenly over taking your senses as a result of having your mate so close. Your hands raise to grip Wanda's arms tightly, nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her shirt.

"Need you, please. Alpha. Mate."

Your words come out as little whimpers. Your panting, you don't know why but suddenly you can't get enough air for full breaths. So caught up in Wanda you don't even process you're about to be mated in the tower kitchen but honestly you don't care either. Wanda however does she feels territorial, primal even. She needs you to herself, needs privacy with you. She'd attack anyone who might see your bare body if she mated you here. Her room was on the other side of the compound, the alpha side far from the omegas and living area but your room was just down the hall. Wanda releases your jaw hands moving down your body till she reaches the back of your thigh. You bite your lip enjoying the electricity you felt from her touch. As she picks you up you wrap your legs around her torso tightly. Her hands against your thighs causing your sex to tingle. You wrap one hand around her neck before running the other through soft red hair. You return to chirping at her, the feeling of finding your mate an overwhelmingly happy one. You rub your cheek against hers softly and the alpha lightly growls in acknowledgment. You are consumed by Wanda's presence unable to focus on anything but her. When she lays you lightly on your bed you aren't even sure where you are, you just know you're there with her. Wanda bends over you, tucking her nose into your scent gland once more and growling loudly. She needs you, needs you marked, claimed. Needs everyone to know you belong to her.

"Mate."

The word is once again a whisper but you hear it all the same. The time to romantically strip you would have to be later gripping opposite sides of the loose shirt you wore the alpha literally tears the cloth off of you exposing your bra cladded torso to her. Your breathing speeds up the intimacy of the moment undeniable as you feel Wanda begin to run her lips down your body. It was like electric shock, the currents Wanda's touch sent through your body. She magiced your bra away completely exposing your upper half and growling as her soft lips wrapped around your nipple. You moan loudly in response, it felt good too good. You could get lost in this sensation alone.

"Mine."

Wanda growls against your skin before moving along to your other nipple. Your hands grip at Wanda through her clothes before you whimper.

"Need to feel you alpha."

Wanda growls in response, her eyes glowing red as she magics away her own clothing her skin now pressing against yours. She moves back up your body mouth hovering close before she lays claim to your own. The kiss is magical, the locking of your lips causing what you could only descibe as bliss throughout your whole body. You felt like you were glowing arms and legs wrapping around the alpha tightly you were sure this must be heaven. Wanda began to grind against you through the fabric of your pants, your underwear gliding against your excessive amount of slick. You blush, embarrassed by how wet you truly are from so little foreplay but the feeling doesnt last long when Wanda growls above you. Wanda pulls your pants off your waist guiding them down your thighs just enough to expose your slick and shudders when the smell of you tingles her nostrils. She's overcome with the need to knot you, breed you as she makes her mark on your neck. But she also feels the feral need to take you, to have your slick dripping down her chin as she causes you to come apart on her tongue. Starting with the latter she pulls your pants off quickly. Breaking away from your lips to slowly kiss down your body. You take a long gasp of air eyes dialating as you watch Wanda work her way down. Your hips begin to twitch unable to stay still at the excitement of what was about to come. Wanda's hands move to firmly grip your waist holding you in place as she kisses your stomach moving lower and lower your stomach muscles flex, a wave of arousal flowing through you. When she reaches her destination her hands move to your thighs lifting them up to hold you wide open for her. You're leaking, literally and Wanda can't wait to have a taste. She dives in slurping up the excess before moving to your center. Sucking on your clit then tongue fucking you like a woman starved. Your slick quenches a thirst Wanda didn't even know she had tongue lapping at your clit before quickly moving towards your hole eager to drink up the slick as a result. It doesn't take long and under normal circumstances you're sure you would of been embarrassed but none of that matters when your muscles spasm. Back arching in the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, your thighs shake, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream. Wanda doesn't stop eagerly drinking up your orgasm before wanting, no needing you to do that again. You whimper in overstimulation but don't stop your alpha, just as turned on by her need for you. You squirm against the red heads mouth a little towards her a little away, this time you last longer if only for your slight sensitivity causing time before the feeling was pleasurable again yet you cum all the same. Wanda moans loudly as you release into her mouth again. She could do this all day she's sure of it. But now as her precum begins to soak her boxers she knows its time. Lifting onto her knees between your legs red eyes glow as her pants disappear and through your haze you see her in all her glory. You reach down gripping her in your hand moaning at the size while she moans at the sensation. You pump her, an overwhelming feeling to suck her down your through the way she'd done you comes over you but Wanda quickly grabs your hand removing you from her.

"You're going to make me bust shchenok." (Puppy)

Wanda hesitates a second if only to allow her own incoming orgasm to subside, she needed to bury herself in you and it wouldn't look good for her if it ended just as quickly as it started. In the meantime she leans down over you meeting your lips in a hungry kiss the taste of you on her lips causing another wave of your own slick to pool between your legs. You push at her lower back willing her to enter you but she resist. Kissing you eagerly before breaking to kiss to move towards your scent gland, you pant quickly. Wanda's kiss having stolen all the air from your lungs.

"Mine."

Wanda whispers against you, hips beginning to grind against your slick in order to lubricate herself. You shudder in response.

"Yours alpha, take me. I want to be yours."

Wanda reaches down gripping herself in order to slowly slide into you. She's thick stretching you out in ways only she can, the burn sends waves through you and by the time she's completely sheathed you're a whimpering mess.

"Yebat' you're so tight." (Fuck)

She pulls out only to slam back into you, her pace is brutal, hips slamming against yours hitting a sweet spot you didn't even know you had repeatedly. Your moans are as loud as the sound of your wet slick sucking Wanda back in. You claw at her wanting her impossibly closer as she fucked you into next week.

"Holy fuck I'm cumming. Alpha. Alpha."

Your eyes roll back as you arch. The orgasm makes you see white and Wanda doesnt stop. You squirting fueling her ego.

"That's right shchenok. You love the way your alpha fucks you, love how deep I am in you. Look shchenok can you see me."

Wanda brings your gaze down the visible bulge in your stomach when the alpha bottoms out causing your stomach to tighten.

"I'm right here."

Wanda says as she pushes down on the bulge and you spasm again another light orgasm washing through you.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill you up, get you pregnant with my pup."

Wanda pumps into you harder, her knot slamming against your entrance as she nears her own release.

"Alpha. Alpha."

You whimper to fucked out to form any other words.

"You're gonna look so pretty swollen with my seed all mine."

You moan again as Wanda bends towards your scent gland the feel of her canines against your neck enough to almost send you over the edge. She sinks her teeth into you right as you hear a pop. Her knot having settled inside you easily combined with the blackout orgasm of your mating bite. When you come to Wanda is still knotted deep inside you. Nuzzling at your cheeks with a low growl. You chirp back to weak to do much else and Wanda hums.

"My mate, my omega."

10 months later.

You were exhausted, to say the least. A new born was a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep. Wanda wasn't here, literally dragged away for a debrief she was required to attend. If you were honest you didn't mind, she'd been slightly smothering you since you gave birth and while you loved her for it just because you gave birth didn't mean you were no longer a functioning adult. You'd been picking petty arguments since your third trimester which you always felt bad for. It was the hormones combined with being put on bedrest so you didn't get to do your job combined with sexual frustration since the doctor said it was no longer safe for intercourse. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, now with the added insecurities about the changes in your body since pregnancy and child birth you weren't sure you even wanted Wanda to touch you. Ignoring the mirror you dry yourself before wrapping a towel around you. Exiting the bathroom right as your little baby boy woke up with soft cries. You coo at him lifting him out of his crib you lose your towel throwing it over the side in order to hold your baby against your bare chest. You were barely one month postpartum but glad to be past the part where you were in a sense literally wearing a human diaper. Your son instantly calms at the sound of your heart beat as you bounce him lightly moving to sit in your bed you lean against the headboard letting out slightly pained noises as you try and relax your overworked back. You cover your lower half with the blanket already feeling the chill of the room as you begin to hum at your son. You don't hear the door open to focused to the little boy in your arms, getting comfortable as you move him to breast feed. You hiss as he begins to work at your sore nipple but eventually relax becoming accustomed to the pain. You rub his little head of hair softly smiling at him a fullness in your heart only created by the birth of your child as Wanda makes her pressence known.

"You're so beautiful dorogaya." (Dearheart)

You bite back your own insecurities at her comment humming in response. Looking up you meet Wanda's piercing eyes before meeting her lips in a kiss.

"I mean it dorogaya or have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts."

You can't help but frown not used to not being able to keep secrets.

"But...."

"Ah ah ah no buts, you're even more beautiful now than the day we met. Pregnancy and childbirth has given you a glow nothing else can."

You sigh a familiar warmth filling your chest in response to Wanda's love.

"YA tebya lyublyu." (I love you)

You whisper your free hand coming to rub against Wanda's cheek.

"I ya lyublyu tebya. Forever and always." (And I love you)

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