#[ Guess who's going to try to be active again? ]

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you think you might update the Adopted Son Au soon, maybe ?🤔 i just can't with that cliffhanger, i need to know what happened next.

Plz

Dick trying to figure out how he is going to escape from his cell when the door opens again. This time, it's not Drake but a group of children who walk in without saying a word.

They surround him, and Dick prepares himself for some torture when one of them presses a button on a controller, releasing him from the retrains, keeping him trapped in the chair.

The metal slides off his wrists and ankles, allowing him to flip up from his seat and away from the group. He wobbles a little, having gone a few weeks without much exercise or movement due to his bad mental state.

He can still take them to the ground, but he won't be at his best, which irks him fiercely. It will also make this fight a lot more dangerous. Surprisingly, the children don't react to his flip or fighting stance.

They stare at him with blank expressions, the single light swinging back and forth as Dick had anciently hit the edge of it with his hip. Four of them are cramped into the surprisingly small room, but none look like they are there for a fight.

Dick frowns. "What's going on?"

" You didn't have Danny, "the oldest one, the boy the Parkers had apparently been taking in, says. "We have no reason to keep you."

"What, you going to let me go? Just like that?" The disbelief drips from his words as he tightens his fist, searching for the surprise attack that will surely come.

"Just like that." The boy agrees, clapping his hands. A little girl throws a bag at Dick, who catches it in an instant. The thing is heavy, but it doesn't feel like a weapon. The teenager claps again, and suddenly, the ground underneath him vanishes.

Dick is free-falling before he knows what's happening. The rush of the wind nearly drowns out his screaming as he tumbles downwards. He watches the apparent cargo plan hangar close as the children stare at his descent.

Twisting around and trying to get his wits about him, Dick realizes he doesn't have a lot of time to figure out what to do because he is far above the ground. He will not survive hitting it. The bag in hand beeps before it springs open.

Wire cords warp around his torso, yanking him to the side so the bag can rest on his back. Another beep goes through before a loud whoosh can be heard, and Dick's body jerks again as a parachute bursts to life from the bag.

He gasps as it catches the wind once it fully opens, stopping his free fall into a gentle flouting. Dick's heart is hammering away in his chest, even when he starts the breathing exercises Bruce taught him to keep calm. He glances up at the plane, but it shimmers out of sight once a clocking device is activated.

He can only guess which direction it ran away in. It must be one of Crowne's inventions.

A few minutes go by when he falls some clouds- and it stings to feel the water bit dig into his skin.- before he finally realizes where he is. Drake had him thrown right over Wayne Manor. The little shit.

Carefully testing the turning cords, Dick realizes that they are much simpler to drive and directions his landing towards the ground behind the Manor. He is nearly there when a flash of red races out of the window, aiming right for him.

"Dick!" Kori shouts, wrapping her arms around him. He sighed gratefully and said she was mindful of the parachute. His friend tucks him into her arms, one hand under his knees, the other on his upper back, and flies him safely back down. "You're okay! We were so worried when you vanished."

"How long was I gone?"

"Just one day. What happened?"

Wow, Drake doesn't mess around. It was alarming that he could not only take him from his own room but return him without any of the Bats being the wiser. "Let's get everyone grouped up. This is going to need some explanations."

The two fly through the same window Kori was excited about. The minute Dick's feet touch the floor, the bag beeps and unclips, yanking the fabric up his parachute back into the little bag as it slides off his shoulders.

Crowne would be so excited that it works so smoothly. He thinks almost wistfully.

"Dick!" Jason yells, racing forward to throw his arms around Dick's middle. Not far behind, Damian joins them though he seems more willing to hold onto Jason rather than Dick.

"Hey guys." He mutters, bending down to hug back. "Sorry about the scare."

"Dick," Bruce's baritone voice has him snapping his head up. There, he realizes his family and the teen titans are all sitting around a conference table, papers scattered in front of the relieved people. A large screen was sitting behind Bruce, displaying the latest news in the Crowne trial. "What happened?"

Dick takes a deep breath, locks everything that man him, the fun circus child, in a tight box inside his chest. When he opens his eyes again, all that's left is Nightwing.

"Let me tell you," And he does

A while later, Dick learns that while no one had known where he had gone, they had all been able to find enough proof that Dick was taken. It had left everyone in great unease, especially Bruce, who had always been proud of the Manor's defenses.

They were in the middle of discussing Timothy Drake's new danger level when the noise of the reporting news anchor cut off mid-sentence. The image changes from a business street of Gotham's police headquarters, where Daniel Crowne is said to be held, to a dark room with a person wearing a glowing green skull mask.

The person is sitting at a table, the angle getting them from the chest up. They wear a hood that does not hide their black wavy hair, curling around their ears. As the camera focuses, the figure plays with a piece of it.

Everyone at the table tenses up as the person speaks. They use some voice modifier that disrupts the words, making it sound robotic -it's hard to tell whether it's a boy or a girl. The body shape, however, points to them being young. "People of Gotham. I have taken control of this and every screen within the city to speak to you about Daniel Crowne. Many of you have cheered the last few days over his imprisonment, unaware of the hero he was. Tonight, I wish to enlighten you. Watch and repent."

"Where is this broadcasting from?" Bruece demands at once. Babs is already tapping away on her Crowne laptop, attempting to track down the signal.

"I don't know. It's bouncing from all over the city." She huffs.

On the screen, the stranger continues. Dick thinks he knows who that is. He recognizes the mindless habit of playing with the hair near the right side of his neck. "That's Drake."

At his words, everyone tenses even further.

"It's true Crowne broke the law. He took it into his own hands when CPS failed to protect the children they claimed they worked for, much like a specific group of Bats." Drake continues, tapping one finger on the surface of his table. "Unlike them, Crowne kept a record of everything he's done. I will present it all to you."

The screen changes to show documents, videos of abuse victims, and some testimony of missing children. For an hour, every screen showcases everything Daniel Crowne has done since he appeared from his adoption. The Waynes and the Titians are left in awe by the sheer amount of evidence that showcases.....Crowne saving children.

Dick legs give out under him some time around the proof of the Foster system failing children and how Crowne had personally swooped in to save them. None of it is legal, but no one cares.

Not when Heather Gobb's case is shown that she has been locked up in juvie for years for being a poor orphan. Not when her neighbors' old video of them pleading with the public to find information on her is shown, as they had thought she had gone missing five years ago and were still looking for her today.

Not when Max Smith- the same one that released him- case of being a human traffic victim was rescued and given to the Parkers. The Parkers had been rejected five times as foster parents due to their age. But the Martinez another case shown here- was even after three different girls reported sexual assault.

Every contact. Every move. Every single street kid is given a home. All of it was shown here, even the way he did it. Daniel Crowne was a hero.

"No," Dick gasps, watching the proof of Danny secretly busting trafficking rings and helping the victims find their way home. He had worked on one of those cases. Cindy, a fifteen-year-old girl, had been secretly rescued when a tip came through. Among her bags was a map of the rest of the cages that she claimed she had never before seen.

Crowne- Danny- had planted it.

The tears are rolling down his face, blurring everything in sight, but Dick can't look away. His chest feels like it's caving in as memory after memory plays behind his eyes.

Memories of the man he betrayed.

Drake, in his eerie glowing skull costume, returns. "That was who Daniel Crowne was. I speak in the past tense because his body had been discovered earlier today. He was found stuffed into a waste bin near Gotham's dump. A funeral will be held for the public in a week within Gotham Park at this same time, open casket, and he will be buried with honor somewhere no one can reach him. It will be the only time to say goodbye."

Dick feels like his world has shattered. The room starts to spin; multiple people are speaking, but he can barely hear them over the roaring in his ears.

He can only see Drake's green glow as the boy continues. "Lastly, I have a message for Officer Lucas Black of the 99th. We know what you did, and as much as I want to end you, he wouldn't have wanted that. Instead we will send you a gift. She was found in the last ring Crowne managed to track down. Protect her well this time. And never forgive yourself for what you did to her savior."

The screen cuts. Dick turns to the side, throwing up until nothing but acid comes out. His friends and family gather around him, trying their best to offer him comfort, but they can do nothing.

Danny is dead. He's gone, and he never even knew it was Dick that helped kill him.

_________________________________________________________

Life is a blur, worse than when he had Danny arrested. Dick isn't even sure he's alive. Bruce and the rest of the police have managed to verify all of the presented evidence. Crowne had legally kidnapped children, but no one could claim him a monster.

It was like the city was collectively drowning in guilt and mourning. Not even the rest of the Rouges dared to cause trouble. For the first time in centuries, Gotham was experiencing a cease-fire, and peace fell upon the civilians.

It hadn't stopped raining since Danny's death, almost as if Gotham herself was sobbing for the loss.

Dick had never felt this empty before, not even at the lost of his parents. He had nothing, no one to be angry at as Drake had covered every track of Danny's killer.

A single letter with a glowing green ghost circled around the familiar D arrived at Wayne Manor the day following the broadcast. All it read was You will never find out who took him. Remember him for the life he lived and not the violence he suffered.

Bruce was working non-stop to bring Danny's killer to justice, but there was even less to go on than the death of Thomas and Martha Wayne.

Somehow, he finds himself getting dressed for Daniel Crowne's funeral. Jason and Damian help him walk out of his room, wearing black, and into the car. Bruce is riding in the passenger seat while Alfred is driving.

They had forgone the expensive vehicles and instead rode in a small black car. This was not an event that needed a showy entrance.

The drive is long and silent. Pity and pain make him almost choke, as none of the other four seem to know what to say. They only glance at him, looking torn up.

Bruce is the worst. He likely blames himself for the whole honey pot plot, and Dick wants to blame him, wants to lash out and rage against his father, but he can't.

He had agreed to the plan. Dick had been the one who went to Danny's office, the one who held him and spoke to him. The one that stole kisses and whispered sweet nothings.

The one that falls in love with the person he destroyed.

Dick stares out the window, wishing he was sobbing like he had been just a few days ago. He wishes he could feel the headache of dehydration from all the tears he cried. Anything other than this numbing pain that rests on his chest and keeps him from feeling anything.

His eyes have remained dry since he heard the news of Danny's passing. What kind of monster did that make him?

"Dick..." Bruce tries, but his words fall short. With a start, the first Robin realizes they are at the park. The car had been parked, and everyone was outside waiting for him.

He unclips his belt, stepping out and ignoring the hand Bruce offers him. All of Gotham has come for Daniel Crowne. There are so many marching by in black clothing. Some are sobbing, others are whispering, but all Dick sees is a sea of strangers that once cheered for his death.

Who are you? He thinks as his family walks into the park. Did any of you even know him?

A nasty voice sneers in his mind. Did you know him, Grayson?

Jason's warm palm slides into Dick's, helping him to the front where some seats had been put aside for those that were personally saved by Danny. Drake wanted them front and center; he had sent a message with a confused Sparrow.

Damian now seemed to regret presenting the letter as he held Jason with getting Dick to sit.

The coffin was surrounded by flower arrangements and shoes—the ones from the people he had saved. Some adult sizes were mixed in, but the majority were of children—it didn't seem real.

None of this does.

But Danny is gone, and Dick can not cry.

Next to the Waynes sits Officer Black, who is sobbing so hard it sounds like his chest is being cut apart. His sister is holding him, crying into his shoulder and whispering assurances.

The Ghosts- a new group that has risen in place of Crowne's fall- had delivered her home mere minutes after the Broadcast. She had received free treatment in one of Crowne Corp's hospitals outside of Gotham. She, along with seventeen other victims, had been personally rescued by Daniel Crowne only a month before.

Dick was happy for them. After years of being apart, the Blacks were finally whole once more.

Phantom- the head of Ghosts- walks up to a podium. His glowing green skull mask hides his expression from the crowd, but Dick can see how hard it is for Drake to stand there and speak.

"Gotham is no stranger to tragedy. We live with grief and joy. We dine with hope and sorrow. We walk with fate and death. In the five years since his arrival, Daniel Crowne had done everything he could to protect Gotham without asking for anything in return. He was deeply devoted to those he loved, and though not religious, he believed in Gotham." Drake says, addressing the crowd. "He found the flame of hope in the darkness of Gotham's streets. He stood tall when others lay broken by her crushing weight, bearing the burden of her attention. His mind illuminated that darkness, his heart warmed those in the cold wind, and with every fiber of his being, Danny fought for the betterment of mankind. His inventions saved thousands and have carved history with a chisel of his own making. We say goodbye to our cherished brother, friend, and noble son stolen from us far too soon. Remember him for the life he lived and not the violence he suffered. Daniel Crowne may no longer be able to walk with us, but his spark will forever live within us."

Drake pauses, turns to the coffin, and places a flower inside of it. "May you find the peace you were searching for, Brother."

Dick bows his head feeling tears gather in his eyes, but none spill over as Drake encourages everyone to pray in whatever belief they hold and allows people to go up to offer their own flowers, stones, or gifts. His line is the first to go up, but he can't move. His legs feel like lead, shaking his head when Bruce whispers his name.

Officer Black passes him, clutching his sister's hand as they walk to Danny's coffin. To his body. It's odd.

Danny is of that wooden stature, but nothing is in it—it's just a box. Officer Black placed his badge inside, whispering that he was leaving the force. Dick is close enough that he can hear his sister adding a ring that Danny had given her when he visited her during her recovery and wonders how bright Danny's smile might have been to see the siblings together again.

The funeral continued, with a long queue of people wishing to say their final goodbyes. Dick sat through the whole thing, aware of time passing but not entirely sure what was happening around him.

All too soon and not fast enough, the service ends. The Phantom claps his hands. A significant plane shifts into view, and its cloaking device falls. It lowers a platform as some Ghosts carefully lift the coffin.

The pallbearers march onto the plane's platform as a haunting melody bleeds into the air. With a start, Dick realizes it's an instrumental cover of their song, the one Danny and he used to dance and sing to. Danny had been playing it the day they were unpacking his home before Dick had found the journals that same night.

Drake really wants him to suffer, doesn't he?

No one speaks as the group rises into the air, taking with them Daniel Crowne. The plane vanishes from sight once more, and slowly, everyone tickles home. Gotham's rain—absent for the funeral—returns just as the Waynes manage to get into their car.

The drive home was even shorter than the one to the event. His family tries to speak to him, but Dick hears nothing. He merely walks up to his room and crashes on his bed.

Exhaustion, one deeper than his very bones, drags him under. He's out before Bruce can find the courage to enter his room.

_________________________________________________________

He's not sure if it's a dream or not, but the next thing Dick knows, he's blinking his eyes open to a soft white glow. His eyes are drawn to the bottom of his bed, where a figure sits on its edge, hunched over and staring at its hands.

His breath caught in his throat, causing the person to turn towards him. He looked different. His green eyes were glowing like a light was lit behind his eyeballs. His hair was snowy white, and his body seemed nearly transparent, but there was no denying who it was.

"Danny" The name is spoken like a gospel.

The love of his life smiles at him in that same adoring way. It feels like a slap and a hug all in one. "Hello Darling"

He stares, unsure of what to do, until he blurts, "You're dead."

Danny throws his head back in a familiar, impish laugh. It's the one, only Dick, had been privy to, as his boyfriend had always been so regal laughing loudly seemed to be against his very image.

Danny crawls from the bottom of the bed, still laughing, until he lays right next to Dick, who can't stop staring at him. Once he settled, the two were mere inches away, staring into each other's eyes as if they could drink each other's features.

"Yes," Danny's voice is soft as freshly fallen snow. "I'm dead. I never thought about that happening. A part of me always hoped I wouldn't form a complete ghost when my time would come. It's rather silly when you consider Dan."

"Ghost?"

Glowing green eyes soften just a bit as a cold- never will it be warm again- hand wraps around his own. Dick can hardly believe he can feel the hold as he continues to stare. "Yes, Darling, I'm a ghost."

"I'm sorry," He whispers, and then a sorrow overcomes him. Dick feels his eyes water faster than anything this past week. Silent tears rolled down his face as he choked, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Oh, Darling." Danny comes, reaching out to wipe his tears away. "I don't blame you. I love you."

"Danny you can't love me. You don't know what I did."

"I do know. You were a honey pot to find evidence of me trafficking children." Danny says as if though nothing. As if Dick hadn't betrayed him to the very core of their relationship. "I'm hurt by it, but I do not hate you for it. You were doing the same thing I was. Trying to protect children; after all, I did make thousands vanish. It looked suspicious."

"If I had been a better detective, I would have found the truth." Dick insisted, self-hate clouding his words.

Danny sighs, tracing the side of his cheek. "No, you wouldn't. Darling, you and Bruce had spent months investigating me without finding anything that could tie me to the case before you had the idea of the Honey Pot. I ensured no one would have found the truth unless they got close. I didn't even tell Tim. He just found out on his own."

Dick's tears flow faster. "I could have done more."

"I could have told you," Danny counters, smiling sadly. But to do so, I would have to tell you about my Halfa status, and I was never quite brave enough to disclose the subject. We both kept secrets, Darling and are both to blame."

"But you're dead." Dick chokes, reaching out his arm to bring his lover to his chest. He lacks the warmth that he once associated with Daniel Crowne. "My secrets lead to your death."

"Maybe. My secret would have led to me leaving your world anyway." Danny confuses.

"What?"

"Since I became Daniel Crowne, I have been working on a way to travel dimensions. It was my goal to get back to my original home. I became so obsessed with it that I did not weaver even years after landing in a world technically behind my own. Not even my love for you or my care for Tim made me give up on that goal." Danny says, eyes staring into Dick's soul, looking so majestic and sad that, for a moment, Dick wondered if he was a painting.

"I told myself that once I figured out a way to travel home, I could come back here to you and live another double life. But that was a lie. A pretty one but a lie. I had to choose one world or another and I would have chosen the other if I had lived."

Danny rests his forehead against Dick's. "I wanted a life with you, Darling, but fate wouldn't allow it as I have been too selfish. I know it's a lot to ask, but can I be selfish a little longer?"

The Gotham vigilante wraps himself around his dead partner, attempting to bury himself in his essence. "As much as you want Darling. Be as selfish as you want."

Neither speaks for long, allowing themselves to feel around each other.

"Daniel Fenton," Danny says after a long while.

"What?"

"My name. It's Daniel Fenton." Danny pulls back to smile at him. "May I tell his story?"

"Yes."

_____________________________________________________________

Dick wakes again to his room curtains gently blowing in the wind of his open windows. The rain has stopped, and a few birds are chirping in the trees outside the glass. The sun shines on the ring that has his name carved into the band, where it rests on his bedside table.

There is no evidence that Danny had been there the night before.

Dick carefully reaches out for the ring, sliding it onto his finger. It's a perfect fit.

He rolls onto his back, holding his hand up to watch the small stones curling around the band gleam. Somewhere in the afterlife, the Ghost King, rightful ruler of the Beyond, is wearing a similar one, and he may wait for the day the two reunite.

Dick Grayson knows everything about Danny Fenton, of how he arrived here in this world, of the one he lost when he flew aimlessly through the Infinite Realms, and of the life he built himself in his effort to get home.

He knows that Timothy Drake will continue to rule over Gotham's underbelly with his trained Ghosts, who will be far more dangerous than any Talon. He will also buy out Crowne Corp, bringing his brother's once titan of a company under his care to continue his work.

He knows Jason and Damian will grow up well, forging their own identities and teams and working hard to improve the lives of the residents of Crime Alley.

He knows that Bruce will continue his war against the crime of Gotham, and for every mistake and stumble he makes, Bruce will bring hope back to the people who cower in their homes.

He knows Lucas Black did not mean to kill Danny and finds he does not hate the man. Danny does not blame him, so why should Dick? He'll dedicate the rest of his life to working at the bakery his sister had always dreamed of owning.

But above all, Dick Grayson knows Danny Fenton still loves him.

For the first time since Danny's death, Dick allows himself to dissolve into sobs. His cries raise in volume, filling the room with their anguish. His bedroom door is flung open by a distressed-looking Bruce, who gathers him in his arms. His baby brothers are not far behind, and Alfred even puts aside his professionalism to join in on the hug.

One day, the family will be much larger than the five. Somewhere out there, a young girl unable to speak is waiting for them. Her brother, who can see the dance of light, is just a little behind. He likely goes to class with a girl in purple who will become Drake's right hand after one too many pushes from her shitty father.

Danny told him there would be more and that he had seen all of Dick's life. Ultimately, he will wait for them to pick up where they left off. The weight of their shared rings will be a companion for the rest of Dick's life.

Dick sobs and sobs until every nasty emotion is finally out of his body. It feels like relief.

[elsa-fogen]

Yep. Yeah. That's me. Almost all of it, except, i sleep well (if i manage to fall asleep) Reblogging because maybe some of you didn't know (i also didn't know)

Story time!

Too long don't read: used to sleep on private math lessons because i hate math; it takes hours for me to fall asleep WHEN I SUPPOSED TO, and my sister does it in 3-5 minutes.

I was studying at university and we had MATH there I've always had problems with it. since 5th grade i think (well, i hated math before too but real problems started there) when i changed schools and the new class was behind what I've already studied and i didn't pay attention, until i realized that at some point I was behind. I said "welp, i guess it's to late to try, so fuck it"

So at university we had this very high level math and i just couldn't understand a thing (and we had an awful teacher who was saying evvvvery time something like "yall getting expelled, we're all gonna die") so i decided "if i don't understand, fuck it then, i will not even try" and started skipping math classes.

But i STILL had to pass an exam, we were getting 3 tries and if you fail you're getting expelled. I failed first two what a surprise (i don't know how i managed to pass it after all, i can't remember SHIT, only that i is fucking non-existing number which is square root of -1. Why on earth would you need it i have NO fucking clue.

So i had personal teachers who tried to make me understand at least something to pass the exam. And there was one i remember very well, i even remember that we paid her 10$ per hour (for us that was quite a lot). And i remember her because i was SLEEPING. I just COULDN'T keep my eyes opened. She explains something about deviding by zero and my brain draws the fucking universe collapsing in front of my eyes. She gives me some task, I'm trying to write something and I'm falling asleep and DREAMING about writing, then ahe wakes me up and i see that i didn't write SHIT. It all ended when in the middle of lesson she just kicked me out.

And, what a miracle, I'm leaving her apartments and suddenly, all the sleepiness just wanishes! I'm walking home, thinking about some another AU of mine, roleplaying it with myself in my head, full of energy again.

That's not the only case of this, but it's the strongest i ever felt. But that like happens all the time, EVEN WHEN MY MOM OR MY GRANNY COMES TO ME AND START TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING I'M NOT INTERESTED, IM YAWNING AND FEEL URGE TO FALL ASLEEP. But the moment they leave, It goes away! I was calling it work allergy LMAO

I was diagnosed with adhd in my early childhood (there was also something about epilepsy, but it's ok now so it doesn't matter), not long ago i brought this fact back into my active memory (thanks to Jaiden animations ADHD video for that xD) i kinda used to myself by now and now I'm trying to catch and analyse all moments of adhd kicking in. I know my own tricks and buttons, how to make myself do the thing or just how to force myself into doing something. Because i know if i start, I'll probably lock in and won't get up until it's done (well, if i have at least a tiny bit of interest in that thing, or else i won't), and i hate it when someone interrupts me in the middle of the process. No mom, i can't come right now, i can't finish it later, because i either spend few more hours forcing myself to go back to the task or just forget about it.

But i didn't know that this sleepiness was a legit symptom! I just thought that it's exaderated boredom, that's it, had a joke name for it. That's... Funny to know that this thing is actually also adhd moment.

Also, about sleeping. I have problems falling asleep. I may lie in the bed for hours without even my phone, just rotating my stories in my head, and when i don't have a story to think about, this is just the name of my current hyperfixation with different tones and in different random dialogues that doesn't even make sense. I have no idea how to fall asleep, except when i didn't sleep for like 48 hours (EVEN THEN IT MIGHT BE A PROBLEM AND I START THINKING OF THAT CREEPY PRION SICKNESS AND SCARE MYSELF AGAIN). And my mom told me that it have always been like that with me. She and my dad had the whole ritual to make me fall asleep. Dad would hold me in his arms, his head with me covered with a blanket that i could only see his face (or else I would look everywhere and never fall asleep), and rock me for HOURS while i was SCREAMING and CRYING the whole time like i was tortured. But when I'd finally fall asleep, they could be as loud as usual and didn't have to whisper, because wake me up is a whole different story. And my mom was SHOCKED when all it took to make my sister fall asleep was just pet her back for 3-5 minutes.

I don't think of myself as... Sick or ill. That's how i was all my life, i don't know anything else. That's not a sickness to me, that's just part of my personality. Maybe sometimes some parts of it bite me in the ass and make my life harder, but i don't know other life. That's the only one I've got, and i guess I'm fine with that (tho now that i think about it, i need to pay more attention to how i write the characters, and don't make them all ADHDshers LOL i need to study neurotypical people under a microscope 🔬🔍)

bro im gonna CRY i didnt know this 🥺

[pinkslipxox]

Hey! I have a request. But please ignore this if you want to, I did see your last post saying how you have alot of requests at the moment! So please don't ever feel like you need to write this okay? Just something basic, pregnant reader is really struggling to fall asleep because baby girl won't stop kicking her mama. Billie wakes up and just rubs her belly and gives us reassurance. She even tries to make us laugh by having a "talk" with the baby telling her to stop hurting her mama or mommy's not gonna be happy. We find it hilarious. We end up falling asleep to billie spooning up and rubbing out stomach and gently rubbing the top of our head because she knows that helps us fall asleep.

- but thank you so so much for taking the time to read this. Once again, please don't write this if you don't want to! I love ya 🫶🏻

Hey there my love! Hope you like it! Thank you so much for your kindness and understanding 🥰

————————————————-——————————

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you feel your unborn daughter move about inside your womb. You’ve been trying so hard to fall asleep, but to no avail. Of course, it is always a joy and relief to you whenever you feel your baby kick, but it seems that she’s picked the worst part of the day— well, night in the case— to be active.

You carefully sit yourself up straighter, breathing slowly in and out just as your doctor had suggested a few days ago, praying that you don’t wake up your sleeping wife. Despite knowing that Billie wouldn’t mind if you woke her up, you feel bad at the thought of doing so. She’s been working so hard when it comes to balancing work and taking care of you, and you know that she needs her rest as much as you do.

“Please let Mama sleep,” you murmur softly as you run your belly in attempt to calm your daughter. Just then, you feel a hand touch your shoulder. Your wife has woken up.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Billie asks, her voice groggy yet full of concern.

“She won’t stop kicking, Billie,” you whimper, wincing as you feel another strong kick. “And it hurts. All I want to do is sleep.”

“How can I help, my love?” Billie offers as she gently rubs your swollen belly.

“Can you please get another pillow for my back?” you request and Billie nods.

“Yes, of course,” she replies and kisses your forehead before hurrying off to find the pillow. She comes back a moment later and helps you lean forward so that she can put the pillow behind your back.

“Thank you, my love,” you sigh, reveling in the small amount of relief.

“You’re welcome.” Billie rubs your baby bump, her ocean blue eyes looking into yours with such tenderness and love. “I know it’s hard, sweetheart. You’re doing such an amazing job. Soon we’ll have our little girl, and she’s going to be just as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, Billie,” you murmur, tears swelling in your eyes. “You’re the sweetest.”

“Only for my girls,” Billie chuckles softly before pressing a kiss to your belly. “Damn, she’s having a party in there!”

“Of course— she’s your daughter, after all,” you tease with a smirk and Billie sticks her tongue out playfully at you.

“Hmm, I wonder…” Billie muses with a playful gleam in her eyes. She then makes a fist with her hand and taps on the imaginary microphone in her hand. “Hello? Is this thing on? Can you hear Mommy, baby girl?”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh. Then, at the feel of your daughter kicking her again, you tell her, “She can hear you loud and clear, Bills.”

“Now, baby girl,” Billie begins in a mock-stern voice. “Listen to Mommy. I know how much you think it’s fun to kick your mama like she’s a soccer ball but she needs her rest. And if you don’t stop kicking her by the time I count to three…”

“Billie, oh my God,” you laugh out loud, shaking your head fondly at your wife.

“One… two… three,” Billie counts and the two f you hold your breath.

“I think… it worked,” you breathe in awe and Billie smirks.

“Guess we know who’s her favorite mother,” your wife teases and you gasp, feigning hurt.

“After all I do for you…” you tisk, running your belly. You then smile at Billie. “Thank you for helping, my love. And I’m sorry that I woke you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. We’re in this together,” Billie reassures you and brings your hand up to her lips, kissing it.

“Cuddle us?” you request with a pout and Billie nods with a smile.

Billie helps you lay back down on the bed and once you are comfortable, she cuddles up from behind you, your back pressed against her chest. She wraps her arm under your bump, her thumb gently caressing there, and kisses your temple. You slowly begin to relax under her touch, her fingers gently massaging your scalp just the way you like it.

“Good night, my baby girls,” Billie murmurs softly, and your heart swells.

“Good night, Billie,” you hum as you close your eyes, grateful to have your wife right by your side, no matter what time of day or night.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

I cannot stop thinking about a BDE fluff/smut fic where he’s feeling down about his physical image, and the reader is shy and innocent but decides to try her hardest to make him feel better but is a little too awkward whilst trying, and he has to take over, and I thought you would write this wonderfully!

Bunny

A/N: Not sure if this answers the brief, but here we go anyway.

Pairing: BDE x reader

Word count: 2.4K

TWs: not much. Elvis is a little sad about getting older. A handjob.

Your two friends both push you towards the stage.

“C’mon, he’s just there!”

You stumble forwards, splaying your hands on the top of the stage as you look up. He’s towering above you, like some sort of God, hips swaying back and forth to the music as he sings the last line of the song. You stare upwards, open-mouthed. He puts both arms in the air in a final dramatic gesture, and then looks down, spotting you. A little smile plays on his lips. You look so nervous, big brown eyes staring up at him like a frightened rabbit. He knows what to do. Dropping his arms he gets down on a knee right in front of you, and suddenly his face is just there, staring down into yours. You nibble on your lower lip as you stare back, and now he’s convinced you are a rabbit, caught in the headlights, unable to move.

“Hey darlin’,” he drawls, his hand reaching down for your shoulder.

“H-hi,” you whisper.

“Ya wanna scarf, honey? Or a kiss?” He pauses for a moment, studying your pretty little face. “Or both?”

“B-both.”

He chuckles as your fingers find the scarf already around his neck and grip it tightly. You might look like a scared little bunny rabbit but you’ve got a fierce grip and you know what you want.

“Alright then.”

He moves his hand to your face, cupping your cheek, and then presses his lips gently against yours. Even though the crowd is loud and the band is still playing the end of the song, he hears the little moan you make when he kisses you. Something stirs inside him at that little noise, and when he takes the scarf off his neck, he loops it around yours and uses it to pull you in for another kiss. He puts you off-balance, and when you catch yourself one of your hands lands on his thigh as his tongue pushes past your unresisting lips. You feel light-headed, trying to steady yourself as you feel his soft lips against yours and breathe in the smell of him. Musky and powdery and undeniably sexy. It might have been the second kiss but it still ends far too soon.

“Wait around after the show finishes, Joe’ll come an’ get ya,” he tells you, and then he’s standing up and talking into the mic, announcing the next song.

Your head spins. Wait for him? Joe will come and get you? Who is Joe? Where are you going?

“Ohmygod he kissed you!”

“Twice!”

“What was it like?”

“Look at the scarf!”

Your friends have a grip on each of your shoulders and they’re squealing and asking question after question without waiting for an answer.

“He told me to wait around after the show for Joe,” you mumble.

“He what? Ohmygod.”

Back at your table you try to concentrate on watching the rest of the show, but your friends are still asking you questions and your head is spinning trying to work out where Joe means to take you. You’re sure you see Elvis wink at you at some point, but everything is so confusing and overwhelming right now it seems more likely that the wink was meant for someone else.

The show finishes in a dramatic flurry of drum rolls and activity, Elvis down on one knee again, with his arms outspread this time, holding up his cape. You stare at him, trying to fix him in your memory in case you never see him again, and then just like that he’s gone. You sigh out the breath you’d been holding for the last minute or so and look around you at your friends, feeling like you’re coming out of a daze.

“Well, I guess that’s it then.”

“What d’you mean, that’s it? Joe’s coming for you.”

“I don’t even know who Joe is. I think we better go.”

You get up and pick up your jacket, shrugging it over your shoulders and ignoring your friends’ protests. It’s late. You should be getting back to your hotel room.

“Excuse me?”

You turn around, confronted by a slightly tubby-looking man in a hat. “Hello?”

“Hi honey, I’m Joe. Elvis sent me to get you.”

You freeze and just stare at him. Elvis sent him to get you? To get you for what? You can hear your friends chirping away excitedly about it but it sounds to you like they are getting very far away. You feel yourself wobble.

“Honey! Are you gonna faint?”

Joe’s arm is around your waist and he carefully eases you back into the chair you’d just got up out of.

“W-what does Elvis want?” You find yourself asking once you’ve had a moment to stop feeling quite so dizzy.

“He just wants to talk and get to know you better - he asked me to bring you up to his suite in the hotel.”

“Oh. Can I um… can I bring my friends?”

“Sure, of course.”

Your friends both try to tell you that they don’t need to come, since you’re the real Elvis fan and both of them suspect he wants something other than a friendly chat, but you refuse to go without them. Elvis is a little surprised to find three girls where he was expecting one, but he doesn’t show it. Instead he buzzes around being the perfect host, getting everyone drinks and introducing them to the other people in the suite. You’re a little surprised how big the suite is and how full of people it is too, and you do show it, your mouth falling open as you stare around the room. Elvis chuckles to himself. You really are very cute. He flits around the room talking to people and you’re surprised and a little disappointed not to get more of his attention. A couple of hours later you find yourself sitting on a sofa between Joe and one of Elvis’ backing singers. You’re not exactly a natural conversationalist, not with strangers anyway, and you can’t help feeling uncomfortable. Both of your friends are engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with Elvis’ guitarist and you just feel overlooked. You get up and start to make your way towards the door, looking for your bag and jacket.

You’re halfway to the door when you feel a presence behind you.

“Ya wanna go somewhere a little more private, honey?” His voice is deep and smooth and somehow commanding. You feel like you can’t say no.

“Um… okay,” you whisper, turning to look at him.

You’d forgotten just how unbelievably gorgeous he is this close up and you almost faint on the spot. His arm slips around your back and pulls you towards him.

“Joe said ya were a fainter,” he says, with a smirk. “C’mon, I’ll take ya somewhere quiet where we can talk.”

You nod dumbly and let him lead you out of the main room and through a door into his bedroom. He feels you stiffen slightly and gently strokes your back with his hand.

“Let’s sit down.”

You settle on a sofa together and he immediately starts to ask you more about yourself. The several cocktails you’ve drunk have loosened you up a little, and even though Elvis is a stranger you find him easy to talk to. It’s just mundane stuff like your job and your family, but he seems genuinely interested. There’s a natural pause in the conversation and you look up into his face.

“Do you like touring?” You have no idea where that came from, but it’s out of your mouth now and you can’t get it back.

He reaches over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I sure do, honey,” he replies with a smile.

“You don’t miss home?”

Elvis swallows. You’re so sweet and innocent-seeming but somehow you’re coming out with these killer questions. No ‘what’s your favourite song to perform’ or ‘which jumpsuit do you like best?’ from you.

“I uh… of course I do…” he trails off and his eyes flick away from your face for the first time since you sat down.

“I suppose you’ve got a lot of your friends with you. That must be nice. It’s not like you could be lonely or anything like that.” Your mouth is genuinely running away with you now.

“I’m lonely sometimes,” he murmurs, still not looking at you. “Lonely and old. I turned 40 this year, y’know that, honey?”

You bite your lip and try to steal your nerve. You move a hand, hesitantly, towards his face, then rest it on his cheek. “Y-you don’t look 40.”

His eyes slowly flick back to your face and he gives you a lopsided grin. “Well thank ya honey. That’s kind a ya.” The smile falls from his face. “I feel it though. Not as lean as I used ta be.” He pulls his shades off and rubs his eyes. “Think I’m gettin’ wrinkles.”

You shift yourself a little closer to him and your fingers stroke the skin near the corners of one of his eyes. “Laughter lines,” you tell him, quietly.

The smile is back. “Ah guess so.” He puts his hand on top of yours and holds it still whilst he rubs his cheek against your palm. “Yer a lot chattier than I expected. Thought ya looked like a lil frightened bunny rabbit when I first saw ya.” He pulls your hand towards his lips now and kisses it.

You blush at the feeling and the intensity of his attention on you again. “I-I was nervous.”

He lets go of your hand and you let it fall back into your lap. “Nothin’ to be nervous about honey.” His hand cups your cheek as he leans forward and captures your lips in a kiss.

You feel yourself melting as he takes you in his arms, continuing to kiss you deeply. He’s warm and comforting and the smell of him surrounds you. You wish the kisses could go on forever, but he then pulls back and flops against the back of the sofa. Somehow the talk of loneliness and age has set up residence in his mind and he can’t seem to shake it.

“That was nice,” you tell him, if only to try and get his attention back on you again. It blinded you earlier but now you feel like you’re peering at him in the dark.

“Yeah it was,” he sighs in return, still not looking at you.

You bite your lip. You’ve not really done much with a man before. You know what’s what, but you usually just let them take the lead. But now, looking at him, you have this overwhelming urge to give him pleasure. There’s a sadness in his eyes as they stare vacantly across the room and you want to take it away. Your hand rests on his thigh as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek to gauge his reaction. When he doesn’t say anything you continue your kisses across his cheekbone and down under his ear as your hand creeps up his thigh. He’s just starting to process what’s happening when your hand finds his semi-hard dick and squeezes a little too enthusiastically.

“Honey!”

He damn near jumps in the air, his head spinning to look at you as his hand captures yours and pulls it off him.

“S-sorry,” you mumble.

He purses his lips a little, trying not to laugh. “Jus’ what were ya tryin’ ta do there, bunny?”

As if to validate the name he’s just given you, you stare at him in silent shock and wonder.

“Bunny?” You whisper, after some time.

“My little bunny wabbit.”

You blush again and look down at his lap, feeling terrible about how badly your attempt to please him had gone. And then you notice there’s a bulge in his pants that wasn’t there before. Your blush deepens.

He smirks a little watching your reaction to him. Taking your hand and carefully putting it back where it was, he helps you squeeze him gently this time. You look up slowly to find him staring at you with an intensity that makes you think he wants to consume you whole, then he’s kissing you again, his tongue pressing into your mouth. Letting you carry on gently squeezing him on your own, he unzips his pants and then takes your hand and helps you wrap it around his length. He moves your hand up and down on him a few times and then lets go.

Burned by your earlier experience, now you’re too gentle and he can barely feel you at all. Continuing to kiss you, his hand wraps around yours again and squeezes it.

“Jus’ a little more, bunny,” he murmurs against your lips.

You nod and dive back into his mouth with your tongue, enjoying the way he tastes, peppermint with a background of something sweeter. He eases your hand up and down a little faster, and helps you rub your thumb over the tip, dragging precum down the shaft to lubricate him. He keeps his hand around yours although you’re doing all the work now, wanting to keep the contact, his other hand buried in your hair. Pleasure builds inside him and blocks out all other thoughts, he just feels your touch, your lips, the wetness of your tongue. You smell like jasmine and your body is comfortingly warm against him. His eyes closed, he encourages your hand to speed up again, letting out an involuntary moan as you do.

You feel his fingers tighten in your hair, pulling it a little, almost hurting you as you keep pumping him faster and faster. His body tenses and then you hear a little whine as his lips leave yours and his head tips back, making contact with the back of the sofa. You look down at the whitish fluid spurting out of his dick and his hand still around yours as you milk the rest of it out of him. Your hand slows down and then stops, and you lean forward to press kisses to his jaw. He sits there in bliss, eyes still closed, feeling and not thinking.

Your fingers knit together with his now your hand isn’t around his dick anymore. He breathes out a gentle sigh.

“Thanks Bunny. Ya made me feel 21 again fer a minute there.”

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978

[639-hear-me-out-bby]

pairing: namjoon x afab! pregnant! reader

warnings: pregnancy mentions (nothing heavy, just the idea of being pregnant)

a/n: hello! so this is just me testing my waters on writing again after losing my mind to an indefinite hiatus + studying. hope y'all enjoy!

"Well, aegi has been very active recently. As much as I hate to admit it babe, it's probably 'cause you've been home over the weekend." You say as you trail behind.

"Pregnancy is no joke in Korea, hon. I'll give it that." You say as you trail behind Namjoon who's been carrying yet another box to the nursery. "Well, that's what a hardworking country gets. All the economy, none of the kids," he trails off as he enters the nursery, "Watch yourself, baby. You, your clumsy self, and our soccer star."

What you say is true. As you've been reading relentlessly all the prenatal books the world has to offer. It's been saying that you should listen to classical music or, at least, play music so it stimulates the baby and you have been doing that but it's just not working.

But life has been colorful on the recent days. All this "baby prep", as Namjoon would call it, has you in a whirlwind. Deliveries and packages have built up on your home's doorstep the minute you've hit your second trimester.

Namjoon carefully sets down the box, brushing a stray hair out of his eyes as he turns to you, a soft smile lighting up his face. "Guess our little one knows when Appa's around," he says, his voice a mix of pride and amazement.

You walk over to the box he’s just placed, giving it a curious shake, and laugh as he raises an eyebrow at you. "What? I'm just trying to guess which of your 500 delivery orders this is," you tease.

He chuckles, reaching out to pull you close, his hand resting gently on your bump. "Hey, I can't help it if our baby deserves the best. Plus, I have to compensate for all those long work hours," he says, a bit of guilt lacing his words. You can tell he's still adjusting to balancing his passion for his career with this new life you're building together.

You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into you, grounding you in this perfect moment. "Well, all that matters is that you're here now," you whisper, feeling your heart swell as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

As if on cue, the baby kicks—a strong, unmistakable nudge that has both of you jolting. You gasp, and Namjoon's eyes light up, pure joy spreading across his face as he drops to one knee, hands instantly resting on your belly. "Was that…? Oh, aegi, you’re going to be a real little champ," he murmurs softly to the bump.

The way he talks to your baby, that quiet adoration in his voice, makes you melt. He’s already so in love, and you realize this journey is going to be so much sweeter because of moments like this. Your hand rests on his, fingers lacing as you both stay there in the stillness, absorbing every flutter and heartbeat.

In that moment, you know that, yes, life is a whirlwind. But with him, it’s the most beautiful one you could ever imagine.

[wisteria-lodge]

Hi! I would like to ask this Narcissa seems to love Lucius and Draco, cares for them and appears to be a family oriented person but how come it is stated in her wiki that she despises the Blacks, wouldn't this imply she considers herself more of a Malfoy and I mean why would she despise the Blacks when it comes to blood purity/superiority, I don't know the correct term but don't they practice/talk about it more/the Blacks prioritize it so shouldn't she be proud of being a Black?

So I just want to say real quick that the fanwiki is not always... accurate. It includes a lot of data from the games, interviews, interviews with the actors that I would never count as canon, and it's also written by y'know, fans. it's actually pretty funny to read through the entry on say, Lucius, and be told that he was a "high achieving model student" and "his talent in potion-making even earned him a place among Slughorn's elite Slug Club." (right. it was definitely just the potions.) I'm learning that he "favours a more elegant, refined technique when he engaged an adversary and generally demonstrates great form in his duelling style." [citation: Jason Isaacs is pretty]. And while we're on that topic "it is likely that his looks might have improved upon the fall of his former Master." Very important that we know Lucius gets hot again after the books.

My guess is that this is the bit you read:

[text id: Narcissa had a close relationship with her oldest sister Bellatrix despite their differing temperaments and personality traits. Narcissa always despised the Blacks, but had great respect for those who did. The ones who dared defy their family's beliefs, such as her older sister Andromeda and cousin Sirius Black, leading her to ignore and disown them.]

I don't know about this. Maybe Narcissa and Bellatrix were close at some point, they do use nicknames to refer to each other, but in the timeline of the books there's a LOT of friction.

Narcissa is actively trying to get Bellatrix to "leave [her] alone" during the Spinner's End chapter (which is what the snippet up there is citing.) Bellatrix is... unhelpful about the Draco situation, saying things like, “If I had sons, I would be glad to give them up to the service of the Dark Lord!" She's also blaming Lucius for the Department of Mysteries fiasco, which Narcissa is pissed about:

“Don’t you dare — don’t you dare blame my husband!” said Narcissa, in a low and deadly voice

We also see some sort of power struggle between them later on, in Malfoy Manor:

“This is my house, Bella, you don’t give orders in my —”

In the books, I don't think we get any details about how Narcissa specifically feels about Sirius, or Andromeda. There's this:

“I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius.”

Which is just a very Narcissa way of saying "you're on thin ice." I guess the "dear" feels slightly mocking. But she's also actively threatening Harry, so not the most representative moment. We do get this from Bellatrix:

“We — Narcissa and I — have never set eyes on our sister [Andromeda] since she married the Mudblood.”

But... she is also speaking for Narcissa, and panicking in front of Voldemort. This might not even be true.

As for the wiki saying "Narcissa always despised the Blacks, but had great respect for those who did" - that's such an odd sentence I kinda feel like there must be a typo in there. I'm not sure there's any evidence in the books that Narcissa despises the Blacks.

(I mean I do think, in a fun headcanon way, that you can make a case that she went subtly low-contact with her family after she married Lucius. The Blacks seemed to have a pretty toxic family dynamic going on circa the first war, and one thing you can say about the Malfoys is that there's a lot of love there, and as a family unit they seem solid. Maybe Narcissa did start to think of herself as more of a Malfoy than a Black. (Maybe her Malfoy-blonde hair isn't natural...)

I also think there's something going on with the house elves. The Blacks clearly have a culture of house elves, and the Malfoys... don't? Like there don't seem to be any house-elves there once Voldemort takes over (and I mean, Dobby was such a *stunningly* bad security breach, I'd be shocked if there were.) But the house seems to run just fine, while hosting a bunch of Death Eaters, Snatchers, and prisoners. Makes me think Dobby was the *only* house elf, and that he was originally a Black family house elf who came over with Narcissa when she got married. In that case, I suppose the decision not to get more might mean something. But all that's just me having fun with the worldbuilding. )

[umbrellacam]

New Teen Titans (Vol. 2) #10 - "He's like something out of a bad romance novel. Man, talk about your cornballs. Who writes his dialogue? Hallmark cards?"

Vic speaking my thoughts on Mr. Wing Man >_> and wow, they're sure having him pull overtime on the lampshading meta snark in this issue:

New Teen Titans (Vol. 2) #10 - "Why will the next Teen Titan hate her parents? Will we have to turn Titans Tower into Titans Hotel? These questions will be answered...in the next sickening segment of--"Daze Of Our Lives!" Same Bat time! Same Bat channel!"

[kittykatninja321]

On both a watsonian and doylist level Dick Grayson is white passing

[manasurge]

bleh

[unnamed-atlas]

Finally finished sweet tooth s3. Having incredibly mixed feelings

[blujayonthewing]

felix: [takes limerick aside early in the campaign and confides, with difficulty because he's ashamed about it, that he sometimes has trouble speaking at all, because he wants at least someone to have fair warning ahead of it possibly coming up if he's gonna be traveling in a group for any amount of time]

limerick the first time felix mostly loses speech: you've been really quiet, everything okay? do you have any thoughts to add [to this discussion]? :)

limerick last session when simon lowkey assigned felix to go do a social encounter: I'll go with you, to help with the talking :)

limerick as soon as we're in the social encounter: [looks directly at felix, expectantly]

[unproduciblesmackdown]

what if we held on to whatever we get the idea of as Normal as unquestionable & think all you can do to this normal is apply some veneers overtop it to be more polite & also resent that. maybe we could project that everyone who seems to be Annoyingly Disruptively doing more than this must be putting on a performance to look good &/or humor others b/c that's all we ever believe we're doing, & again, we resent even that much....maybe we could use our show of More Polite language to make the same points blaming everyone who our Normal mistreats for their own mistreatment

[masonspecialist]

Getting ready for an interview and it's one of those places that doesn't allow face piercings, gauges, or "unnatural" hair colour

Which sucks fucking ass

But I'm desperate so

I dyed my hair

I'm gonna take out my piercings right before the interview (I am not letting them close up, I paid for this shit lmao)

And I'm going to seem like I'm a totally normal cishet woman so they can give me the money I need to get the fuck outta dodge

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 29

“Evil Like Me” by Kristin Chenoweth & Dove Cameron for Disney's Descendants OS

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

openly weeping at the idea of someone genuinely hating soul punk.

[nerice]

god im thinking again abt. malenia turning caelid into a scarlet rot wasteland and it was absolutely not what she intended. fighting and being prepared to kill radahn is one thing but they were too evenly matched, leaving her either no other choice but to unleash scarlet aeonia/it happened beyond her control because the goddess of rot would not let her champion die, functional empyrean or not (i always always think about malenia whispering smth to radahn in that final moment. she knew what was about to happen..) but malenia is not about destruction!!! conquest, sure, for miquella's sake but the age of unalloyed gold is built on ideals of peace and equality, especially for the afflicted, the outcasts. unalloyed gold is beauty and flowers and dreams. not whatever the scarlet rot turned caelid into,,,, and sure sure demigod slumber/malenia having to be carried back all the way to the haligtree sanctum and the timeline is extremely unclear (it is implied she only wakes up when you enter her boss room) but i also like the idea of her. giving up on it all. defending the empty womb of miquella's tree, again, sure, but going out and securing territory? beating back her siblings? after what happened with radahn, what she did to radahn...... + the implication of the next time she goes into god slumber she will emerge as goddess of rot / fully an avatar of an outer god; not only was her twin taken from her, leaving her with no choice but to await his return tm, the battlefield is also taken from her because does she really want to chance that happening again? h.