#AND BEING BURDENED W KNOWLEDGE

[the-patrex]

[nyansequitur]

just learned that w skin has worse framedata and i dont know how to feel.

[ayyponine]

The way my sister's arrival here is still over two weeks off but the nightmares are back already. I KNOW im gonna be in the fucking trenches

[deathofacupid]

right next door // part one | peter parker

ahhhh new series!!

masterlist!

summary: you move in right next door to a cutie, problem is, he isn't much of a talker. or anything at all. but it's okay, because you're dead-set on getting him to warm up to you.

warnings: mean peter :(

pairing: peter parker x fem!bubbly!reader

word count: 1.9k+ words

you scowled under your breath, absolutely frustrated.

“if you want us to take the boxes up to the fifth level, you’re going to have to pay us extra,” the man spoke, arms crossed. the movers you had hired looked to be twins, around the age of 30, perhaps? they had heavy accents and took you to be a gullible female if they believed that you’d pay an additional 25 dollars for that.

“look, i included the information about my flat being on the fifth floor, and despite having that knowledge, you took this job. i am not paying you extra, so how about you do this right, okay?” you scoffed in disbelief; you didn’t know that moving into a new apartment would be so difficult. all you wanted was for these insufferable men to take your stuff to your flat so you could finally relax.

finally breathe, because you hadn’t gotten any “you” time since you made the decision to move into a whole new state, which you were starting to regret now.

no, no, independence is always worth it.

probably.

either way, it was nice to get away from your overbearing parents that were currently all the way over in florida.

“lady, we don’t got all day, so either pay up, or-”

“i’ll take it from here,” a male voice interjected. you looked over to see a brunette, with honey-brown colored eyes and a perfectly sculpted face.

perfectly sculpted.

perfectly.

you’d seen him a couple times when checking out the building. he lived in e11, which was part of the reason you’d moved into e12, right next door. there wasn’t anything wrong with wanting a god for a neighbor, right?

that was a rhetorical question, of course there wasn’t anything wrong with it.

after poking around (begging your landlord for his name and room number), you found out that he was peter parker from e11.

you watched him walk over and raise an eyebrow at the men, who stood unmoving. “i said we got it from here.”

“you her boyfriend or something?”

“and what would it be to you?” peter adjusted his position to where his arms were crossed, shirt tight and muscles flexed.

okay, so it wasn't just his face that was perfectly sculpted.

the men exchanged eye contact and shook their heads, sighing. you stuck your tongue out at them, despite the fact they were already walking out the door, backs facing you.

you called out, “and that’s one star for you guys on yelp!”

brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you looked back at peter, who was already picking up a box. “oh, hey, you don’t have to do that. i’m sure i’ll manage.”

“it’s okay. i don’t mean to underestimate your strength, but these boxes aren’t very light.”

“yes, but-… are you sure? i don’t want to burden you with this.”

he glanced at you, balancing a box on top of the one he was holding, “it’s no burden. unless you don’t want my help, which is a different story altogether.”

“uh, no, nothing like that,” you hesitated. he seemed very stoic, in no mood for small talk, or to converse in general. “but thanks for what you did. i didn’t need the help, i could have handled it on my own, but… um, thanks.”

“did you a favor,” he shrugged, “you weren’t really getting anywhere with that.”

you frowned at his bluntness, but bit back a retort. he was willing to help you, this complete stranger. and for that, you were grateful.

picking up one of the lighter boxes, you followed after him on the stairs. “so… um… i’m y/n. l/n,” you added after a second.

“peter parker,” was all he said, and you nodded as if you hadn’t previously known that.

“nice to meet you, peter.”

“what room do you live in?”

“e12.” you stopped yourself from adding right next to you.

“’kay.”

“what about you?”

“huh?”

“w-where do you live?”

“e11.”

“oh,” you smiled, as if you didn’t know that as well. “that’s so cool! we’re neighbors!”

“yay.”

it seemed like that was sarcastic, so you decided that it was best to maybe shut up. so that’s what you did.

after a while, you were able to get all your boxes (with peter doing most of the work). you stood in your flat with your hands on your hips as peter put the last box down. “seriously,” you breathed, “thank you so much. i have no idea what i’d do if you weren’t there.”

“negotiate with russian twins and get nowhere.”

you laughed nervously, unsure of whether or not that was a joke. “um, you can stay a little longer, if you’d like. or not. that’s fine, too.” you were hoping he’d stay, even though you literally had nothing for him to sit on. there was no furniture… but maybe he’d want to stay anyways?

“i’m good.”

“o-okay, peter. see you around?”

without another word, he slipped out of your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

you thought that moving in next to peter would make you a little less lonely, and maybe you’d make a new friend.

but perhaps your mother was right. what if you weren’t ready for all this?

new job, new home, new state… new everything.

you were all alone in the big city.

but- but it would be okay, you decided, shaking your head. “it’s fine. i can do this. i’m going to do this. today was a minor setback, which my mom doesn’t need to know about… and i need to make new friends before talking to myself becomes a habit.”

you stood in the middle of your flat, grinning. nothing was going to stop you from achieving your dream.

-

your new job at the daily bugle wasn't going to start for another week, so you had time to unpack and adjust. music blared from the speakers, helping you get into your new groove. you sang and danced around to it, laughing like a fool (you were sleep deprived).

you took the plastic wrapping off the couches and adjusted them to where you liked, with much struggle, of course. next came chairs and tables, and you were glad to get those out of the way. once you’d completed moving and unpacking some of the bigger things, you had gotten bored.

but, nevertheless, you still wanted to be productive. finally, you settled on decorating the living room. taking out pillows, throw blankets, and pictures, you put them all in their designated places.

in complete exhaustion, you tossed yourself onto your couch. “aw, crap, where i am gonna sleep tonight?” you groaned.

in hindsight, maybe you should’ve done the bedroom first. man, you were kind of a mess without your mother.

laying there, gazing up the bare ceiling, your thoughts drifted to peter. he was mean, but in a reserved way. like it wasn’t really to be mean, but more about how his personality was. “oh, well, i’ll just make him warm up to me.”

after all, you did need friends. so why not start with peter?

with a new task at hand, you jumped up, speeding towards the kitchen. you planned on making him cookies, after all, who didn’t like those? you preheated the oven… before realizing you had to unpack all your kitchen related items.

and you had to go shopping for ingredients.

you had some money to last you until a new paycheck, so you might as well spend it somehow. besides, this could be a way to get peter to like you.

not like that.

well, not yet.

first, you had to get him to be friends with you. no, scratch that. you had to go shopping first.

-

“you need butter to make cookies, right?” you asked yourself, glancing over to your cart that currently held milk, eggs, and flour in it. “oh! and sugar! …vanilla extract? why on earth haven’t i googled this yet?” shaking your head in dismay, you pulled out your phone, searching up what you needed.

“okay… so…chocolate chips. gah, how did i forget that? cornstarch, and salt,” you looked at the aisle you were in, pausing momentarily. after a second, you threw a pack of measuring spoons in. “obviously, you need chocolate chips for chocolate chip cookies!”

sighing, you glanced up, only to be met with the eyes of a bewildered woman. “um… sorry,” you mumbled sheepishly, forgetting you were in public.

seriously, you needed new friends. pronto.

you wheeled your cart to the checkout aisle and waited in line. looking up, you saw a masked figure on the television. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and tilted your head, squinting to read the caption; “spider-man stops yet another robbery”.

“huh,” you murmured quietly. “spider-man.”

“mommm, isn’t he so cool?” turning your head, you saw a little boy pointing at the screen.

“what? yeah, he is,” she said, filing through her wallet.

you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, going into safari. the knit between your eyebrows hadn’t left as you tapped on the first news link, jjjnews.com.

spider-man, the masked menace.

you looked up and frowned. menace? you thought he was a hero, given the whole robbery thing. come to think of it, the name sounded familiar. “spider-man…” you hummed, testing it out once more.

whether he is in affiliation with the avengers, we do not know. the infamous spider-man, often referred to as the masked menace by his critics and opponents, raises an intriguing question: why does he feel the need to conceal his identity? what secrets is he keeping from us that drive him to hide behind a mask? could it be fear of exposure or perhaps a deeper motivational factor? but what drives him to conceal his true self from the world? what secrets lie beneath that mask, and what is he purposefully keeping hidden from those around him?

these questions continue to haunt not only the citizens of new york city, but also his closest allies. while spider-man is praised as a courageous crime-fighter, some question if there is more to his story than meets the eye. as a beloved hero or feared vigilante, the truth behind spider-man's persona remains a mystery waiting to be unraveled.

with the emergence of new heroes comes a surge in villains as well, and perhaps spider-man's presence only adds fuel to the fire. it is time for the authorities to take action against this dangerous masked figure before any more harm is done.

you pressed your lips together, and exited the app. that was enough of that, because as far as you knew, this guy sounded like a hater. this man, expecting no incentive at all, risked his life every day to keep others safe.

what more did people want, honestly?

seeing as it was your turn, you picked things up from the cart and set them down onto the checkout. pulling out your wallet, you inserted the chip in the credit card.

“that’ll be $37.50.”

“um, okay,” why was that more than you thought it’d be?

 yay, cookies, right?

somehow, you managed to make it home without crashing into someone, or someone crashing into you. you didn’t have a car yet, nor did you trust yourself with on here in nyc, so you took a taxi.

being completely honest, you were kind of excited about this. being more completely honest, you didn’t know how to bake. (or cook.)

but maybe it’d be okay. i mean, how hard was following instructions on a screen?

[fandoms-x-reader]

I Like You

Word Count: 888

Leviathan x Reader

You sat in a chair next to Levi as he gazed off into space. He was rambling to himself. Most of it was incoherent, but you managed to pick up on some of it. He was talking once again about being a shut-in otaku. “Who likes me? Pfft nobody,” he stated, mostly talking to himself. You let out a small sigh before replying, “Me.”

_______________

Since you got to the Devildom, you had a hard time relating to the other demon brothers. There were so many things that differed between the human world and the Devildom…it was hard to find common ground with anyone. Well, anyone but Levi. 

Levi was the only one in the Devildom who seemed to know about things in the human world. He had an expansive amount of mangas and video games from both realms. He was like a breath of fresh air. The only hint of familiarity that you had in this world. 

The only problem was - he was also the hardest to get to know. He spent most of his time in his room which made it hard for you to talk to him. And, when he did finally come out, it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with you. As if you were simply a burden that the family of brothers had been cursed with.

At first, he only talked to you so that he could use you to get Mammon to pay him back. Then, your relationship had become somewhat estranged when you beat him in a trivia battle for “The Tale of the Seven Lords”. 

Eventually, though, he warmed up to you, finding himself wanting to spend time with you. He would invite you over to his room to play games or watch animes that you hadn’t seen yet. For the first time in - he couldn’t remember how long - he was truly enjoying the company of another person. 

Your nights spent together were filled with laughter and amusement as you both provided ample knowledge of each other’s worlds. After some time, Levi found that every new game or manga that came out, he wanted to share it with you.

You had suddenly become the most important person in his life. When you weren’t with him, he missed you; and, when you were with him, he never wanted the time to end.

However, your relationship with him didn’t change what he was. He was always self-conscious around his other brothers. They seemed to have such charm and charisma. They could talk their way through any social situation. Levi wasn’t quite as lucky. 

His brothers normally teased him about the way he acted. Usually, he didn’t take it too personally. But, today they had taken it a bit too far, leaving Levi feeling hurt and left out.

He had stormed off to his room and you followed him. He normally wouldn’t let anyone follow him into his room, but he knew it was you and despite his actions saying otherwise, he wanted you there. 

He paced silently for a bit around his room as you stood there. You watched Levi nervously as he walked around his room. You wanted to help him, but you weren’t sure how to.

You sat in a chair next to Levi as he gazed off into space. He was rambling to himself. Most of it was incoherent, but you managed to pick up on some of it. He was talking once again about being a shut-in otaku. “Who likes me? Pfft nobody,” he stated, mostly talking to himself. You let out a small sigh before replying, “Me.”

You hadn’t meant for your confession to come out as suddenly as it did. But, you were tired of Levi talking bad about himself. So what if he was more quiet than the others? So what if he enjoyed nice nights in instead of partying around the Devildom. What was wrong with that?

Levi froze in his chair at your words. He didn’t say anything for a long time and you began to grow fearsome that he hadn’t heard you at all. You held your breath as you waited for him to say something - anything. 

He finally brought his eyes to you and you felt a deep blush rise to your cheeks. “W-What did you say?” he asked, looking scared. Though, you weren’t sure if he was scared because he didn’t hear what you said correctly or because he did.

You took in a deep breath before confidently stating, “I like you.”

Levi turned into a flustered mess before you, unsure how to react to your words. Should he kiss you? Would that be too forward? Should he hug you? Would you like that? Should he hold your hand? Was that too cliche?

He looked panicked to react in the proper way, so you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, not wanting to push him too far out of his boundaries. “Ah!” Levi reacted, startled by your display of affection, but adoring it nonetheless.

There was a sudden knock at the door and you figured it was one of the brothers coming to apologize to their brother. “I’ll see you later,” you told him, leaving him behind to watch you leave, completely in awe of you. If only you knew the feelings you gave him.

[rei-ismyname]

X-Men #6 FROM THE ASHES

Last issue is starting to make a lot more sense - I think Jed McKay might have strong feelings about the Morrison era. Spoilers, obviously.

Hi Xorn! Hi Magneto! Good to have you join us. It's nice to see Magneto is progressive, polite and welcoming. It's still an ideological regression from where he was at in X-Men Red/RoM/Uncanny X-Men #700, but I guess he's mostly scenery in this comic sadly. As a fellow disabled burden on society I empathize with him, but I'd like to see him still be a character of focus. Otherwise, why put him in the book? It's a shame his moment makes Xorn look like a fool - is that really his first question? Dude is a fucking monk and these people are right there.

He's wearing his Morrison/Quitely uniform too, which is not a great comparison to be drawing imo. He was last seen hanging out with his brother and Legion in Way of X, but I suppose this is as good a place as any for him to be now. Hopefully we see more of him.

Look how much Quentin has grown since Riot at Xavier's. Or maybe he's depressed. Either way he's definitely looking sharp. Idie notices one of the protesters throwing up the M.

People want Beast to solve their problems but he doesn't have the same experience and knowledge as old Beast, not that X-FORCE Beast did any of that. It's a character beat, but one we've seen before. Maybe he'll learn magic again! Magik is still very defeatist it seems, and perhaps her determination is waning. Can't say I blame her.

Quiche is dope but jokes about it aren't. Not this millennium. The Glob/Quentin dynamic is another Morrison callback. Don't worry, there's plenty more this issue 🙄. One pitfall with light-hearted quippy nostalgia is it undermines serious events happening next to it and gives mood whiplash. Somehow Idie knows Ilyana is communicating secretly with her brother. It doesn't come up again. Based on how McKay has been seeding beats we'll find out in issue #10.

Okay, so we know Magik is smart and now Idie does too. It'd be nice if more of this team started acting like friends - maybe this is the start of something beautiful. I can't say I buy Magik undermining Cyclops on a whim but she lays out the dilemma then puts Idie in charge.

They walk into the trap by putting Cobb Sr to sleep. Idie's secret is pretty cute and an effective 'cost of magic' shorthand. I am wary that it refers to nostalgia about a time that was already hyper nostalgia, but I'm getting used to it. We get to see the Cobb family dynamic, utterly predictable.

I enjoy everything on this page.

- Cyclops and Psylocke sparring

- Expanding on Hank and Mags' budding relationship with reference to their history.

- Building on Beast's fear of becoming a monster again.

- Magneto being emotionally supportive.

No new information here, though I love a jab at Fabian Cortez. This is more of a reference than anything else, though it's good to see some self awareness from Max. Although, Cortez showed a lot of growth on Krakoa.

This is a nice moment too. This version of Hank was a massive horn dog. Not saying that's where it's going but he's gregarious and it does make sense to have him be welcoming to another non-passing mutant. Glob too, though he comes off as massive dork. We still don't know much about Jen or Ben which makes it hard to get invested. If they do stick around they'd be inflating a cast that's already being covered unevenly.

Okay, Piper is here and Scott isn't pleased. Idie would have a point but it would have taken 2 minutes to talk about it. Yeah she asked for help and came willingly but as Scott says she's a minor. Her home life looks miserable and tracks closely enough to many queer experiences, but society unfortunately says children are property. It sucks, but she needs support. Nobody wins when her mother calls the cops. Is this about Piper or Idie here? I would love to see Idie being the moral core of the team but this just makes her look naive and impulsive - which is at odds with her 15+ years of characterisation. She was in jail last year!

Piper reveals that the 'Wild Sentinel' was after her and the Iron Night was her 'fault.' It's left on a cliffhanger but let's hope this doesn't torch the X-Men's relationship with Merle, Alaska.

The Morrison thing - Psychic rescue, Quentin and Glob, scientists making mutants, Cassandra Nova, Xorn is still in his uniform from the time, wild sentinel mention (which is super bizarre and out of place.) It's a lot and I'm probably missing stuff. My question is who this is for? New readers will just be confused. Morrison super fans are more likely to roll their eyes, judging by responses to last issue.

Overall this issue was pretty good. It progressed the plot, gave us time with the 3 characters who'd been ghosts, introduced new information and setup conflict with the town for next issue. I really wish the creative team would get their batting average a little higher in terms of solid issues. 33.3% is low enough in the abstract to make me drop the book - and this is one of the better ones. I know we can do better than this and it disappoints me how aggressively mid the X-books are right now.

I'm starting to recognise the formula they're working off, with information dribbling out at a snail's pace to the point that any issue becomes skippable then ending on a cliffhanger that's rarely paid off quickly. Uncanny has the same issue, which makes me think it's an editorial problem. Hell, solicits usually give more information than issues do. I'm not talking about tropes, I'm talking about the narrative tricks that allow them to publish issues that move at a glacial pace and use nostalgia to disguise the characters not being developed. One can hope :)

[heartfullofleeches]

I need to see Selene having a sweet morning w her neighbor(wife) so bad. She's so cute?? I just wanna see her be happy and making breakfast for/with them while the vibes are good and sleepy. Let this woman get to sleep in and cuddle her lovely neighbor after brutally murdering her husband just the other night

Selene always wanted of a spring wedding.

Beyond being a child of the season, in her eyes it was to be the most romantic - symbolic of the growth between young lovers to lifelong partners. Furthermore, both mother and grandmother had spring weddings - passing their knowledge and the gift of their wedding gown onto the next generation. Its soft emerald hue matched her eyes and the season 0beautifully. She dreamed of walking down the aisle surrounded by love, the cool spring air, and blooming roses.

So why was she here now - cold and without an ounce of love to her name. The artifical bouquet in her hands scratched at the delicate parts of her skin and hair, autumn winds biting her exposed neck and arms. Spring was too much of an inconvenience for her soon to be husband. He hated the outdoors and insects that roamed freely, and so their wedding was set for October in the confines of an old church.

Selene told herself she could be happy. This was meant to be the happiest day of her life and the start of her days as a doting, loving wife, but as she entered the chapel she'd find someone else taking her place. A beautiful soul with a smile that encapsulated everything she loved about spring. Warm and inviting - impossible to forget or ever let go. Dressed in her best, she could never dream be to as angelic as the creature standing up there with her lover. She falls to her knees, begging to be taken instead. To be loved by that angel. To be chains to that demon so he can never hurt them like he's broken her.

"Selene......"

She screams. Take me instead. Take me....

"Ms. Selene!"

Her eyes flutter open. No longer is she crying on the church floor. A gentle hand rubbing her back draws her from slumber, and the remaining tears from her eyes. The stiffness in her spine reminds her of the most uncomfortably comfort night she's had on someone else's couch.

"Ms. Selene, are you okay? You were crying in your sleep when I came to check on you."

Color darkens her pale face as she sits up, deepened by the hand that aids her. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I.... I'm normally not one to dream, and I believe that was the first nightmare I've had in... years.. "

"It's alright, Ms. Selene. You've had a rough night."

Recollection of the night prior barrel through her like a speeding train as she looks up at the face of her savior. She bawled her eyes out at your doorstep, pleading to stay just one night and be gone before down. Her husband had allegedly changed the locks before leaving town and it was too late for her to call anyone else. You offered your home and bed to her as any would do, but she settled for the couch not wanting to be more of a burden than she was.

You give her hand an affirming squeeze - unknowingly kickstarting the beat of her heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, and you can stay here as long as you need. We'll call a locksmith later so you can get some of your belongings."

It's hard to believe someone that was a stranger only a few short months ago had shown her more kindness than her husband had in all of their years together. Your arm returns to her shoulder as more tears leak from her tired eyes, pulling her into embrace that wash decades of self loathing off her mind. All that lingers in its wake is how she'd kill to spend every morning in your arms - just like this. Even she had to relieve the pain of her past everyday, it would all be worth it to have you.

"Thank you, Y/n. I know we don't know each other well, but words can not describe how luck I am to have you. Without you I don't know where I'd be right now.."

"Ah, don't worry about it. I know you'd do the same for me. Are you hungry?"

She places a hand to her stomach, unsure when the last time she'd eaten. "Seems. Maybe i should make something for us. You've done enough for me already."

"Nah, don't think like that, we can do it together. I have some pancake mix and some fruit in the fridg if that sounds good."

Selene smiles. "That sounds wonderful, dear."

"Cool." Sporting a smile of your own, you lead Selene into the kitchen. You grab a cutting board and knife, placing both on the table as you digging around for the produce in your fridge. Cutting the fruit, Selene has never known more bliss from slicing anything than her husband's throat.

This truly was her new happiest day.

[doyou000me]

Love In The Big City series adaptation: Episodes 3 & 4

On Knowing The Story and Characters (and their trash) Beforehand

CW: homophobia and attempted suicide 

I am late in writing this (@lurkingshan I’m sorry if it’s any extra trouble) but… it took a while before I managed to get through episode 4. This week was heavy. I cried. Episode 3 and 4 hit hard, and deep, and I am so very grateful that I read the book beforehand. Even going in prepared, knowing more or less what’s to come, I wasn’t prepared enough. How do you watch this, you who have not read the book and cannot brace for impact? 

After watching episode 3, I thought I was going to write quite a light hearted reflection this week. I took notes on the characters, especially Hyeong/Young-Soo and Eomma/Go Young’s mom, and I thought I was going to write about how we who have read the book are able to see through these characters’ bullshit from the very beginning. I was going to ask how they come across to the viewers of the series who haven’t read the book, and wonder how different our understandings of events and characters turn out. 

Then I watched episode 4, and it derailed everything. 

As much as the prior knowledge of having read the book allowed me to brace for impact at times, I also believe it gave a deeper understanding of what’s going on below the surface - and that makes some scenes, some lines of dialogue, cut all the deeper. 

The focus of episodes 3 and 4 is, to a large extent, homophobia and the fear of how others will judge us. 

We have the mother, who is religious and makes her every move to look good in the eyes of her fellow church goers and God - but I get the impression that the judgement of those around her is what she fears the most. She fights against judgement when her husband, Go Young’s father, cheats on her. She works hard to become successful and prove herself. She sends her teenage son to conversion therapy. She doesn’t wish to meet the person that her son sees as most important in his life, because she doesn’t want to face the fact that, after everything, there is nothing she can do to change the fact that her son is gay. 

Then we have Young-soo, simply called Hyeong in the book. He is a deeply complex character with many layers, and we dug deeper into him after reading part 2 of the book. Long story short, due to his past, he has a very complicated relationship with western influences, religion—and his own sexuality. It all boils down to a deeply rooted homophobia that not only affects himself negatively, but seeps out of him in a toxic poison of mixed signals and harmful actions. 

Between them, we have Go Young. Go Young, who has graduated, has lost his deeper, more meaningful relationships where he was safe and accepted, is struggling to make a place for himself as an author, is forced into a role as carer for his ungrateful mother, and is trying to live his life true to himself as an out and proud gay man. 

Go Young is in a position in life where he needs someone by his side. He needs someone who can support him, help him, share his burden and shine some light in the darkness. He seeks purpose, meaning, understanding—and finds Young-soo Hyeong. 

In the beginning, in spite of all the bullshit he spouts, he gives off an aura of being someone who has a deeper understanding of life—or, perhaps more importantly, he’s handsome, fit, and (once they get to that point) good at sex. In spite of all the mixed signals, Go Young can’t stay away. 

But the more we as viewers learn about Young-soo along with Young, we understand that there is no deeper understanding of the universe and meaning of life. There is little difference between Young-soo and Young’s mother, in that they are both unable to see Young for who he really is. Instead, they see the version of him that they are willing to tolerate, while constantly (more or less actively) working to change him and put him on a course to an “acceptable” life. 

Throughout episode 3 and primarily episode 4, we see how this wears on Go Young and it finally becomes too much when Young-soo denies that there was ever any love between them. We see Go Young come home, and in the harsh light of the kitchen lamp, he makes himself an ice coffee. With efficient movements, he gets the ice from the fridge, then goes to find the pills. Swallowing them down with his coffee drink, he takes pill, after pill, after pill–

And black. 

This scene plays out similarly, if not exactly the same, in the book. His mother’s words, when he wakes up in the ICU, are the same: 

“Don’t try so hard. We all die someday, anyway.” 

These are the first words from a mother when her son wakes up after a suicide attempt. There is no happiness, no relief, no reassurance, in those words. There is no welcome back, no thank God you survived and there is no why would you do such a thing? And Go Young, strapped to the machine, just stares at her blankly, his eyes dry and expressionless, because he has given up and expects nothing else. 

The ones who do welcome him back, who are overjoyed at seeing him awake and remind him that he is loved and that there are reasons to live, are his gay friends. The T-aras are shut out of the room, on the other side of a glass. They’re not allowed to be there, and in the book, they aren’t there—but I am very grateful that the adaptation added them as a hint of light after such a heavy episode. 

It is thanks to them that Go Young finally cried and finally decided to move again. 

Similar to the book, we get a time skip. Young has moved on. He has aged. He still cares for his dying mother, but while the hurt isn’t gone, he knows now not to expect anything from her. And when his own manuscript gets sent to him, full with corrections that Young-soo has made in red pen in an attempt to correct the story of Go Young’s own life, Go Young throws it in the trash. 

“It is not my trash.” 

So move on. Get rid of the trash. Be weary of the trash that others carry with them, and do not make it your own. 

Even if that trash is homophobia, put it where it belongs. 

[banquetwriter]

୨୧ Le hannon ୨୧

pairing: Legolas Greenleaf ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ readers hair is described as dull and shaggy but mentions nothing of color, cut, or texture so it can apply to anyone. legolas is described as being inhumanly tall and is taller than reader, but reader isn’t necessarily short, if you squint reader is implied to be ok the chubbier side. sex and love making, OOC legolas bc this is my first time writing him

summary: ʚ body worship ɞ

Words: 2703

A/N: AHHH ME WRITING OH MY ??? i’m getting outta depression yalllllll

It was easy to feel inferior next to the prince of Mirkwood. It was easy to feel less than next to any elf. They held themselves highly, unable to simply die of any mortal ailments. Their flowing long hair whipped around as they jumped from tree to tree with such an agile nature it seemed as if the rules of gravity that burdened so heavily on your human frame did not apply to these extraordinary creatures.

They are also such strong scholars, their views and sense of other cultures and worlds seem lightyears ahead of any knowledge you could hope to possess. And the elves of Mirkwood do surely know it. How they turn their nose up to you at any given chance, the snide remarks.

You were only human. You had jagged and dull hair. Your body ached with germs and grew tired of simply existing. The mind you possessed was not so easily tuned. You weren't as quick on your feet, often taking longer for each task. Your skin was damaged, it was not soft or beautiful, it was raw.

It felt embarrassing to be seen next to such beauty. Although Legolas never embarrassed you once through his words. In fact, he had never commented on your physical appearance since the day your path intertwined with his.

He would ask about your skills in healing animals and other creatures, your traditions, and your livelihood. On your lighter days, you appreciated not having any comments to make your mind spiral out of control.

On other days you wanted nothing more than for the tall and pale elf to get down on his knees and worship you. To have his manicured hands grace every part of your skin and heal you. Not with medicine or words but with touch. His finger gingerly fucking you until you don't have any thoughts to overthink.

You sat in your guest room of the palace. You suppose you were sitting better than some elves being so close to the king and the prince. Your company needs a break from traveling, the prince suggested his home as the perfect one.

The aforementioned prince was currently taking a stroll down memory lane in the evening hours as the rest of his crew was sleeping (or trying to in your case) his Elven body did not need to sleep so he walked. He was reliving old memories, some good, some bad. He was also thinking of you, so maybe that is why as he strolled around he found his feet bringing himself to your room.

Legoland found it odd at first that he drew towards you. You were not like most women he knew, you were loud and unafraid. Drinking just as much as the men, not worrying about yourself as much as you worried about your friends and loved ones. You were a sunshine that warmed his heart like the first heat of summer.

By gods you were beautiful. Inside and out. A soul so worthy of love Legolas found himself dreaming of you night after night. The curve of your legs, the roundness of your tummy. It was a miracle to be blessed with you.

He surely couldn't wake you if you were letting sleep pass through you. Maybe he should just check to make sure you were settling in alright. Mhm yes, this is what being a good host would do. He held his slender fingers up to your door, his golden rings glistening in the moonlight and candle-lit hallways.

He knocked with his knuckles a few times against your door before bringing his hands down and massaging them, attempting to calm his nerves. “W-who is it?” you asked clearly startled.

Your eyes bored into the door in front of you as your heartbeat began to beat so violently against your rib cage it was hard to hear or see anymore. “It's me, your favorite prince.” you hear the familiar voice jest.

The words don't come out quite as smoothly as he wanted. You didn't seem to notice his anxiety. “I'm only in my dressing robes, not proper clothes,” you shouted back. It felt silly, all the time you had spent with Legolas, all the wounds he saw on your body, to now be so proper with him.

Then again it probably didn't feel that long to the elven prince. Maybe you were just a blip in his long years. “When has that ever bothered me?” he shouted from outside your door once again assuming this was an invitation in.

You gasped slightly as he walked around the door and his eyes fell on you. Poor Legoland now understood what you had meant. These weren't just any dressing robes provided by the elves. These were man-made dressing robes. Almost entirely sheer.

He has never seen in you something so overtly feminine… not that he minded either way. Gender was almost entirely irrelevant to him. Your face was raw. You had been crying. His giddy face fell with the sight of your fallen state.

Ignoring your basically exposed body. He joined your side, “Why are you crying?” he asks as his weight pushes the bed down beside you. Your mind races with awful thoughts.

All of them seem to get a little better as Legolas’s hand and arm reach around your shoulders. Your emotions drain any chance of resisting his affections. Your head falls on his slender shoulder. “I know that I as a human will never compare to the beauty of an elf,” you whisper, your lips dry and raw from wiping your tears.

“I don't think that to be true-” Legolas' comment doesn't reach your ears as you continue. “But even amongst humans, I'm nothing special. Am I so undeserving of love?” you ask as your tears are unable to drip anymore.

“How dare you speak so unsavory of my dear companion,” he says in a joking manner. It doesn’t help. Clearly, this wasn't going how he wanted to do this. “I shouldn't jest, tell me, what bothers your heart,” he asks, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb.

You roll your eyes in response, shying away from his touch. “I want to lie in bed with you, Legolas,” you confess. Now he really knew not to joke after hearing such words. He felt a jump in his lower belly, a feeling he was more than familiar with.

“I want your hands to cherish every part of my body, your beautiful fingers exploring every part of my figure. My body burns for you, and I am unworthy of such fantasies.” your words way heavy in the room.

Tension thick as your eyes avoid his gaze. Your eyes shifted looking at the ground as he watched you like a hawk. His pants get tighter as he learns how badly you need him.

It was in moments like this that showed how young Legolas truly is. His body turned into a limp servant for your every desire. It was time to do what he had been dreaming of doing to you since he laid his eyes on you.

His hands found the sides of your face as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. His elven tongue makes quick work of showing you just how completely and utterly enamored with you. When hands found his hair deepening the kiss the elven prince moaned into your mouth.

He pressed his hips into you as you slowly lay down. “Your body has never left my mind. Every curve and scar and stretch mark makes my elven blood turn to the hottest fire…” he confessed. His diligent fingers slowly remove your sheer dress. Your bare body is being revealed.

You waited self-consciously as the prince eyed your body down properly with no film to hide you. His face morphed into a pink that went from pointed ear to pointed ear.

“You are a light in this dark world. I have always found myself drawn to you as if you are the arrow to my heart's bow," he whispered to you as he pulled away from your eyes to move all the way down to your thighs.

His soft mouth sucked and bit on every available place of skin available to him. You moaned lying back. “Never speak so lowly of yourself again or I can assure you I will have some choice words to share with you dear,” he said stern but soft as his teeth grazed your exposed body.

“Legolas please I need you,” you whispered. His pleasant teasing was well… Pleasant but it left you a desiring ache in between your legs.

This wasn't your first encounter with something of this nature. Far from it but you had a sneaking suspicion this was going to be different. “As you wish,” he smirked deliciously, standing up.

He gingerly rid himself of his clothes making sure to show off his figure to you. He didn't need to. He was beyond beautiful. Lean muscles decorate his chest and arms. The low glow from the candles behind him illuminates his blonde hair. Your eyes trail below his skinny waist.

Where he was decidedly less skinny. You do not know the average size of an elf but by human standards, your dear prince far exceeded even a dream of what he would look like.

He must have seen your eyes widen ever so slightly, as he smirked again. “You seem nervous, Meleth Nín,” he says, his voice oozing confidence. Not in the slightest concerned. “You are very beautiful, my prince. Very beautiful indeed,” you whispered the last part, eyes dropping to his hard member.

In that sacred space, the once cold room now feeling warm, the blonde elf knelt before you, not as a prince, or as an elf but as a devoted friend and possible lover. "Let me honor you, not just with words, but with every fiber of my being. Estelio nin,” he said getting closer and closer to your exposed and dripping cunt.

“Legolas,” you whined, narrowing your eyes. He seemed to humor you, his long tongue taking a stripe up your cunt. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back. You feel him hum against you as he continues to ravish your cunt slowly making sure no part is left untouched.

His slender fingers grip into the plush fat of your thighs. His cold rings add a welcoming sensation. “Oh gods,” you whispered, feeling your finish slowly approach as he made out with your sex. Legolas didn't say anything, simply humming against you again making you tingle all over.

Suddenly his pale hand went from digging into your thigh flesh to using his manicured thumb to rub gently but quick circles on your clit which only pushed that so-desired feeling further. “Can I please? I need it please, my prince.” you gasped out the pleasurable feeling flooding your veins.

“Have your release, use my tongue to guide your pleasure.” he nearly whispers against you. Oh and use him you did. It was a short 30 seconds later as you felt his tongue hit just the right spot, your legs shook before your pleasure overwhelmed your senses and you barely recognized Legolas lapping up your juices.

Your eyes flutter open to see Legolas crawling on top of you, his hard leaking member brushing against your stomach. The sight itself was enough to have you wanting even more. Instead, your prince’s right hand found its way to your jaw.

You tasted your own self and his tongue as he nearly replicated what he was doing moments ago with you only higher up this time. “Are you ready to feel how beautiful I see you are? How your body overtakes my Elvish mind?” he asked, pulling away from your mouth and whispering down into your ear.

You don't reply so shocked at every sensation you feel. “I know you're nervous but there is no need to be,” he purred. “My tongue has gotten you ready enough Meleth Nín, it should only hurt a moment. Are you ready?” he asked, dragging his hand up your body, cherishing it like it was a beautiful statue.

You nodded, keeping your eyes trained on him. “Words my human love.” he reminded you, his finger brushing your cheek. “Yes I'm ready,” you whisper.

In the next few moments, you can only remember the feeling of his length stretching you out. He was right it hurt for a second but as you took deep breaths and relaxed it started to feel less painful and more full. A good feeling, his hand locked with yours, his forearm just above your head.

He pushes in and out so gently. He is talking to you or maybe just to himself but you can't quite hear him over the feeling of your bodily organs rearranging. Your wanton moans fill the room.

“Le annon veleth nín,” he whispers to you, you aren't sure what it means but it must mean something to him as Legolas has removed himself from your lips as he is now bucking into your hips with his forehead resting on yours.

You feel the sensation burning through you again, and your Elvish love must have to for he was whispering rapidly in Elvish against your skin. “Le hannon… Le hannon.” he was saying. You couldn't hold on anymore, your hands found the back of his neck as your walls fluttered around him.

The cause and effect of your body accepting his love caused his release as well. He curses as you feel his seed spurt onto your walls. It doesn't take long for his rapid breaths to catch up to him as he sits up from being on top of you.

He pulls out as slowly as he can to not hurt you any. His attempt mostly fails as you whine from the loss of feeling. “I know I know I'm here for you, right here. Let's go take a bath, my beautiful ok?” he asks, pinching your side.

You giggle squirming away from him with a smile. You were beyond exhausted. Legolas disappears for a few minutes before returning, picking you up with zero hesitation. His elven strength almost quiets any insecurities you may have.

He places you in a wooden bathtub filled with warm water and herbal remedies for all your aches and pains. Legolas slips in behind you, at first he just slowly kisses your neck letting you relax before taking some soaps and washing your body and hair thoroughly.

Each body part he scrubs he made sure to tell you just how beautiful you were. It helped of course. But healing scars like this aren’t going to take just one magical night with an elf prince, no matter how badly you wanted that to be true.

After you were body washed and rinsed Legolas helped you and your shaky legs into a very nice robe. He sat you down on a chair in the ginormous bathroom. “Wait here I will return in a moment,” he said gently.

And wait you did before he returned clothed. He helped dry you and applied the softest moisturizer ever to your skin. You could perhaps get used to this. Before leading you to the bed which he has changed the sheets and blanket of.

An outfit similar to his was placed on the bed in your size. He helped you get dressed again, sliding his hand up and down your body. “You have never been and never will be less than anything but desirable. You must understand that if we are to begin courting,” he told you to lift your chin with his hand.

You look down shyly at his words. “Why didn't you tell me this before? Why am I hearing of your affections just now?” you ask sitting on the bed. “A beautiful woman doesn't need to be told that she's beautiful. For you are so much more than your body, you have an excellent mind as well. That's what I chose to speak about. Out of respect for you.” he said, joining your side.

It made more sense now than it ever had. Still, it was going to take a while for these unwanted feelings to deplete.

[fantasblog]

Chapter 1: A Shift in Reality

The atmosphere in the once-bright dimension was dark now, weighed down by loss and destruction. Bill Cipher, the once chaotic trickster of the multiverse, found himself pacing in a sterile, brightly lit laboratory. His once vibrant yellow glow had dimmed slightly, his sharp edges softened by the burden of time. But the most glaring change was the glasses resting on his triangular face, a subtle reminder of the scientist he had become. Bill wore a black necktie and a white scientist's cloak, symbolizing his shift in purpose. This was not the reckless, wild Bill who had delighted in chaos. This was a man—or rather, a being—trying to make sense of a world that had fallen apart long ago.

Bill had fled his home dimension after the Euclidean Massacre, the day everything changed. He had survived, but his parents—once proud, powerful entities—had succumbed to madness. They had become ruthless, embodying everything Bill feared he might become. The carnage had been swift, and when it ended, Bill was left standing amidst the destruction. His parents had vanished, but they were no longer his concern. He fled, leaving his past behind, hoping for something better.

That something better came in the form of a strange human scientist—Stanford Pines. In Stanford, Bill found an unlikely companion, a man obsessed with the mysteries of the universe just like he once had been. Together, they sought knowledge and understanding. But as the years went on, cracks began to form in their research partnership, worsened by Stanford’s assistant, Fiddleford McGucket.

---

Stanford Pines stormed out of the lab in frustration, his mind racing with anger after yet another argument with Fiddleford. Their work had become tense, too many disagreements over the ethics of their experiments. The cool air of Gravity Falls stung his face as he walked through the woods. It was dusk, and the stars were just beginning to emerge. He found a small comfort in the quiet of the forest, but something weighed heavily on his mind.

As Stanford reached the road, he heard the familiar rumble of an engine. His twin brother, Stanley, was driving down the narrow path. Despite their complicated relationship, Stanford felt a pang of relief seeing Stanley. Perhaps they could talk, maybe even resolve some of their long-standing issues.

But as he stepped onto the road, everything happened too quickly. Stanley hadn’t seen him, and the car struck Stanford with full force. The world spun as the impact sent him crashing onto the pavement. The last thing he heard before everything went black was Stanley's horrified scream.

---

Back at the lab, Fiddleford was working on some calculations when Bill Cipher suddenly appeared before him, sensing something was wrong.

"Something's happened to Ford," Bill said, his voice uncharacteristically strained.

Fiddleford looked up, panic flashing across his features. "W-what do you mean? Is he—"

Bill didn’t respond, but they both knew what he was implying. Without another word, the two rushed to the scene, Fiddleford driving, Bill hovering alongside. When they arrived, the sight was devastating: Stanley kneeling beside Stanford's broken body, his hands covered in blood, tears streaming down his face.

"No, no, no, no! Ford! Ford, don’t leave me!" Stanley sobbed, clutching his brother's lifeless form.

Fiddleford’s eyes widened in horror as he approached, but Bill was quiet, his mind already racing. He didn’t have the luxury of grief, not like Stanley. He could see the raw emotion tearing Stanley apart, but Bill’s mind had shifted into cold calculation. Stanford couldn’t just die. Not like this. There had to be a way to fix it.

"Stanley…" Bill's voice was calm, too calm for the moment. "There’s a way to bring him back."

Stanley looked up, tears still streaming down his face. "What are you talking about, Bill? He's gone! He's dead!"

"No," Bill replied, his triangular form floating closer, eyes glowing faintly behind his glasses. "Not if we act fast. We can create a body, a vessel… We can bring him back."

Fiddleford looked at Bill, a flicker of fear crossing his features. "You mean… like the experiments we've been working on?"

Bill nodded. "We have the technology. We can rebuild him. It won’t be the same, but he’ll still be Stanford. A version of him, at least."

Stanley hesitated, looking down at his brother. The thought of losing Ford forever was unbearable. And while Bill’s idea sounded insane, it was also his only hope.

"Do it," Stanley said, his voice shaking but resolute. "Bring him back."

---

The next few weeks were a blur of frenzied work. Fiddleford and Bill worked day and night in the lab, stitching together the pieces of what would soon become "Frankenford." Bill’s genius, combined with Fiddleford’s engineering expertise, allowed them to craft a body—one that was strong, durable, and capable of holding Stanford's consciousness.

The process wasn’t perfect, of course. The Stanford that emerged from the operating table wasn’t exactly the same man they had known. His eyes held a strange, eerie glow, and there was something mechanical in the way he moved. But he was alive, or at least, as close to alive as he could be.

And with that, the world of Gravity Falls shifted once again. The years passed, and the town grew accustomed to the oddities that came with it. Frankenford lived, a shadow of the man he once was, but he served as a reminder of the lengths Bill would go to protect those he cared for—those who had become his new family.

Thirty years later, Dipper and Mabel Pines arrived in Gravity Falls, their summer vacation pulling them into a web of mysteries they could never have anticipated. The Mystery Shack, now run by their Great Uncle Stanley, had become a hub of supernatural activity. Stanley, now an older, grizzled man in his 60s, did his best to protect the twins from the darker secrets of the town. But Bill—now affectionately called "Grunkle Bill" by Dipper and Mabel—watched over them as well.

For Bill, the twins were a new opportunity, a new adventure in a world where so much had been lost. He had once been a destroyer, a trickster, but now, in this fractured reality, he had found something worth protecting.

But the past never truly dies, and as the twins dug deeper into the mysteries of Gravity Falls, they would soon uncover secrets that even Bill couldn’t hide forever.

The question lingered: How long could they keep Stanford’s resurrection a secret? And what would happen if the truth ever came out?

Bill’s glasses glinted in the low light of the lab as he watched Dipper and Mabel explore the Shack, a sense of foreboding settling over him. The game had only just begun.

Stanley Pines wiped the sweat from his brow as he stood behind the counter of the Mystery Shack, listening to the incessant chatter of customers. The summer sun poured through the windows, illuminating the eclectic collection of oddities and curiosities that filled the shop. His face bore the marks of time—a few more wrinkles and a little less hair than he’d had decades ago—but his spirit remained indomitable. Stanley prided himself on running a successful business, even if it was in a town riddled with the supernatural.

“So, you want a bottle of Mermando’s Tears, do ya?” Stan said to a wide-eyed tourist, his salesman charm in full effect. “Best thing for a broken heart! Or your money back!” He flashed a grin that could sell ice to a penguin.

As he engaged the customers, Soos and Tate McGucket were hard at work nearby. Soos, the lovable handyman and assistant to Stan, was sweeping the floor, while Tate—Fiddleford’s son—helped by collecting trash and organizing the clutter. Tate had taken on the role of the Shack’s handyman, learning from the best and applying his own flair to the mix.

“Hey, Soos, you ever think about how many weird things are in this place?” Tate asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Dude, every day! I mean, look at that—” Soos gestured toward a shelf full of peculiar items. “I still can’t believe we have a jar of eyeballs in here.”

Wendy Corduroy entered from the back, rolling her eyes but smiling at the boys. “You two are gonna give Stan a heart attack if you keep asking questions about the weird stuff,” she joked. “Just keep sweeping, and try not to break anything.”

As the trio continued their tasks, Bill Cipher and Fiddleford McGucket were buried deep in their scientific work in the lab, which was a cacophony of beeping machines and swirling lights. The air was thick with tension and anticipation as they fine-tuned the details of their latest creation: Frankenford.

In the other room, Dipper Pines had found himself captivated by the journal he had been reading, the cryptic notes from the mysterious author sparking his curiosity. Mabel sat beside him, flipping through her own stack of colorful papers, occasionally glancing up at her brother, trying to see what caught his attention.

“What’s it say, Dipper?” Mabel asked, peering over his shoulder, her enthusiasm palpable.

“Just some notes about the strange occurrences in Gravity Falls,” Dipper replied, his brow furrowed in concentration. “It seems like there’s a lot we don’t know about this place and—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Mabel’s finger accidentally grazed a bright red button on the control panel in the corner of the lab. A low hum reverberated through the air, and suddenly, the ground seemed to shake.

“Mabel, what did you do?” Dipper exclaimed, his eyes wide with alarm.

“I don’t know! I thought it was a light switch!” she said, her voice rising in pitch.

With a resounding clang, the massive metal doors of the lab slid open, and the dim light inside flickered violently. An electric surge filled the air, followed by a low growl that echoed through the Shack. The shadows danced as a figure began to emerge from the darkness.

Frankenford—standing at a towering 8 feet tall—opened his eyes for the first time, the glow of his gaze piercing through the lab’s haze. The towering figure loomed over Dipper and Mabel, who stood frozen in awe and fear, clutching the journal tightly. His body was a grotesque patchwork of machinery and flesh, cobbled together from the remnants of Stanford Pines’ original form.

Frankenford looked down at the twins, his expression unreadable. Despite the monstrous visage, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Memories surged through him, flooding his mind with flashes of a life he could barely remember—the car accident, the pain, the feeling of loss.

“Who… are you?” Frankenford asked, his voice deep and resonant, tinged with confusion and curiosity.

Dipper swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. “We’re… we’re Dipper and Mabel Pines. Your… your grandnephews,” he stammered, glancing nervously at Mabel.

“Grandnephews?” Frankenford repeated, the words hanging in the air. His towering frame seemed to shimmer with a strange energy. “Stan…ley…”

Suddenly, a look of horror crossed his face as fragmented memories collided in his mind. He could see Stanley’s car, feel the impact, the jarring pain. He was acutely aware of the presence of his brother, the guilt, the love, and the anger.

“Stanley…” he murmured again, a wave of realization crashing over him. “Is he… is he alive?”

Mabel, sensing the turmoil within the creature before her, stepped forward cautiously. “Yeah, Grunkle Stan is still around. He runs the Mystery Shack now!” she said, her voice softening. “He’s really worried about you.”

Frankenford’s mechanical eyes flickered as he processed the information. “Worried… about me?” His voice wavered, a hint of vulnerability breaking through the monstrous exterior.

Dipper nodded, his heart racing. “Yeah. We all are. We want to help you. You’re still Stanford, right? You’re not just… a monster.”

Frankenford’s mind raced. In that moment, he wasn’t just a collection of parts or a failed experiment; he was a person, a brother, a part of a family. Memories of laughter, arguments, and shared moments with Stanley flooded back, bringing with them the hope that maybe—just maybe—he could find his way back.

“Stanley…” he repeated, feeling a surge of determination. “Take me to him.”

---

Meanwhile, in the shop, Stanley had finished with the customer, his attention drawn to the commotion coming from the lab. He frowned, sensing that something was off.

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” he shouted, making his way toward the sounds of chaos. He pushed the door open, the sight before him causing his heart to race.

Standing in the lab was the giant form of Frankenford, towering over Dipper and Mabel, his eyes locked onto Stan’s face. Time seemed to freeze as they stood there, both brothers finally facing each other after so many years apart.

“Ford?” Stan breathed, disbelief coloring his voice.

Frankenford turned his gaze to Stanley, a mix of longing and confusion swirling in the air between them. “Stanley,” he said, his voice trembling, echoing with the weight of lost years. “It’s me.”

Stanley’s heart swelled with a mixture of joy and sorrow. “Ford, I thought I lost you…”

In that moment, the years of separation, regret, and pain faded away, leaving only the bond of brotherhood—one that transcended life and death, science and madness. It was the beginning of a new chapter, and as they stood together, the world around them faded, leaving only the promise of reunion and healing in their wake.

Frankenford’s towering figure loomed over Stanley, who stood rooted to the spot, his heart pounding in his chest. There was a moment of silence between them, each brother grappling with the profound implications of their reunion.

Frankenford broke the stillness, his voice steady but filled with uncertainty. “Where… where are we, Stanley? What year is it?” His brow furrowed, the patchwork of his face shifting as he spoke, struggling to comprehend his situation.

Stanley took a deep breath, attempting to steady the flood of emotions crashing over him. “It’s… it’s 2013, Ford,” he said slowly. “We’ve been apart for decades. I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Frankenford blinked, processing the information. “2013…” He looked around the lab, taking in the strange machines, the brightly colored gadgets, and the frantic energy of the place. “And you—” he continued, eyes narrowing slightly, “you’ve aged, Stan. You’re old.”

“Yeah, well, time hasn’t been exactly kind,” Stan replied, attempting to deflect the emotional weight of the moment with humor, though his eyes shimmered with tears. “I missed you, brother. I thought I had lost you that day… in the accident.”

Frankenford nodded slowly, memories flooding back—snippets of laughter, arguments about the silliest things, and finally, the crash that had torn them apart. His gaze shifted toward the lab, where Bill Cipher and Fiddleford McGucket were standing nearby, both of them watching the reunion with a mix of intrigue and caution.

“Bill…” Frankenford said, recognition dawning on him as he recalled the name. “You’re Bill Cipher. What are you doing here?”

Bill, standing with his hands in the pockets of his lab coat, shrugged, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Well, let’s just say I’ve made a few… adjustments to my career path. Can’t let a good brain go to waste, right?” His voice held a playful tone, but there was a hint of something deeper beneath it—a flicker of respect for the science that had resurrected Stanford.

Fiddleford stepped forward, his old eyes glinting with excitement. “We’ve been working together for years, Ford! You were… well, you were a little different when we put you back together, but we always knew you were in there. We just had to figure out how to bring you back.”

Frankenford’s gaze shifted between Bill and Fiddleford, realization washing over him. “So you’re both responsible for… this?” He gestured to his body, a mixture of flesh and machinery, still struggling to reconcile the sight of himself with the memories of who he once was.

Bill nodded, his tone becoming serious. “We needed to get you back, Stanford. You were one of the brightest minds I’d ever encountered. Losing you wasn’t an option for me.”

Frankenford’s mind raced. “But why? Why go through all of this?”

Stanley interjected, a protective edge in his voice. “Because he cared, Ford! Bill may be a trickster, but he’s also… well, he’s family now, in a way. We’ve all been through so much together.”

A flicker of understanding crossed Frankenford’s features. “Family…�� he repeated, glancing at the twins and then back to Bill and Fiddleford. “All of you… you’ve built something here. A new family.”

“Yes,” Bill said, his tone softening slightly. “In a way, we’re all a bit broken, but we’ve learned to piece ourselves back together.”

Frankenford took a moment to absorb this, the weight of his new reality settling in. “But I don’t understand. If it’s 2013, what happened in the years I was gone? What have I missed?”

Stanley’s expression grew solemn. “So much, Ford. The world changed while you were… away. Gravity Falls became a hotbed for supernatural events, mysteries piled on top of mysteries. But more than that, our family… it’s changed. You’ll need to get to know everyone again.”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged glances, sensing the gravity of the moment. “We’re here to help you remember, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel said, her voice full of determination. “We want to hear your stories, to learn about your life before… well, before everything happened.”

Frankenford nodded slowly, feeling a warmth spreading in his chest at the kindness of the twins. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I may not remember everything right now, but I want to understand. I want to be part of this family.”

“Good,” Stan said, a proud smile breaking through the worry etched on his face. “Because we need you, Ford. And it’s time we faced whatever else is lurking out there together.”

Just then, the lights in the lab flickered ominously, drawing everyone’s attention. Bill’s expression shifted as he sensed a disturbance. “Uh-oh,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Seems like the universe isn’t quite done with us yet.”

The atmosphere thickened with tension, a familiar unease creeping into the room. Fiddleford grabbed his tools, ready for anything. “What do you mean, Bill?”

Bill’s eyes narrowed, a glimmer of mischief returning to his demeanor. “Let’s just say we may have a few… old friends coming to visit. And they won’t be bringing gifts.”

Frankenford straightened, newfound determination igniting within him. “Then let’s face them together,” he declared, the edges of his patched body humming with energy. “If I’m going to be back in this world, I’ll protect my family. I won’t let anything tear us apart again.”

Dipper and Mabel nodded in unison, their excitement bubbling over. “We’ve got your back, Grunkle Ford!”

Stanley clasped his brother’s shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. “We’ll figure this out, Ford. Together.”

As the lab hummed with energy and the promise of the challenges ahead, the Pines family—now expanded to include Bill, Fiddleford, and the twins—stood united, ready to face whatever mysteries Gravity Falls had in store for them.

With a final nod, Frankenford stepped forward, a sense of purpose igniting his spirit. The chaos that awaited them felt less daunting with the strength of their newfound family beside him. Together, they would embrace the unknown and reclaim what had been lost.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[hyatoro]

Hwang Minsu Mating V2

Alpha!Reader x Omega!Minsu

This time reader does the penetrating.

It’s the same as my other one where Minsu penetrates but other way around. 

Read Other Version Here (Minsu Penetrates)

It’s one of those nights where he has to work unfortunately. And you explicitly said that you had no plans to visit him that night. He was moping, not that he looked any different to the public eye when he wasn’t by your side. 

He’s super pouty behind his mask and every moment that he’s not dealing with a customer he’s on his phone looking at his pictures of you. Some of them were taken without your knowledge, but you’re not really concerned. You already knew what you were dealing with. 

But his favorite ones are the ones where you took his phone and took a selfie of you two together. It always warms his heart to look at and he gets this dopey smile on his face. Because you liked him!!! You wanted to make memories with him in frame!! The ones with only you have their own charm, untainted by his existence, but he can’t hide how happy the ones with you both make him. 

He gets off his shift at 6am when he exchanges with the morning guy, greeting him politely before hurrying home. Only to see you waiting for him by the exit. 

Minsu stops in his tracks and rubs his eyes to make sure this isn’t some hallucination he manifested by staring at your photos. 

When you smile at how silly he’s being, he rushes you, wrapping his arms around you tight. You return the hug just as hard and every muscle in his body relaxes as he melts into your embrace. 

“W-What are you doing here!? I thought you couldn’t come?” 

“I did. I needed to sleep. And now I’m here.”

!!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!!

Clings onto you for another few minutes before finally allowing the both of you to walk again. He looks tired so you invite him to your place since it’s closer than his. Of course he accepts whole-heartedly. 

He accepts the shower you offer, indulging in all your stuff. When he’s done he’s all sparkly like a new man. Degreased. 

You let him sleep in your bed while you do chores, and he gets a solid 6 hours of sleep before waking up, his body only taking what’s necessary before waking up to spend time with you. By then it’s lunch time and his groggy ass gets up to snuggle up wherever you are. You happened to be making lunch so you give him a kiss on his head when he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. He makes this goofy ass sound when he goes heh heh as you do so. 

Y’all eat lunch and get to cuddling on your couch when you’re snuggled up to his neck this time. After a few more whiffs you realize that his heat is approaching. You tell him as much. 

“A-Ah… Is it? I- Um… Is that a problem for you? I can go put on a patch or leave-” he rambles, unwilling to leave your side but not wanting to be a burden on you. Which you quickly fix by kissing him and telling him to shut up. He listens. 

You say, “It’s not necessarily a problem, but I wanted to ask if you wanted to spend it with me?” And you’re nuzzling your nose into his scent glands. He could not refuse you even if he wanted to. So what makes you think he would as is? 

“Yes!” He shouts before you change your mind, stretching his neck out further as he gets breathy, baring himself to you. “Yes yes yes, I want to spend my h-heat with you…” 

If he could manually start his heat right fucking now he would. 

You chuckle before kissing his neck and whispering your words into his skin. “Then it’s a plan.”

He is squirming in your lap and you can literally smell his arousal. He can’t hide his neediness and is actively rubbing up against you, but the tiniest bit of shame he has left has him hiding his face behind his hands. 

With him so sweet and pretty in your arms how could you not pamper him? And since he’s so eager you might as well ask, “Hey, Minsu. I’ve got another thing to ask you.”

“Whatever it is, the answer is yes.” Zero hesitation. 

Your teeth grazes his skin, right where mates mark each other, and he almost creams his pants right then and there. His body twitches as he whimpers and whines even though you’ve barely done anything. 

“Can I claim you, sweetheart?” you whisper the golden words into his ear.

The man hops off and starts ripping his clothes off as fast as possible, terrified that you might be joking or change your mind. “I said the answer is yes!” 

You’re stunned but also admiring him and his tenacity when he suddenly starts stripping you too. “Whoa! Easy there, sweetheart. Let’s take this to the bed.” Your amusement and confidence has him folding and begging you to move faster. He is physically shoving you towards the bedroom, but it’s super ineffective cause he is so fucking weak. Your mind tells you to get some meat on his bones later. 

You’re excited too so you hurry to your bedroom, and as hot as you are in your rumpled clothing from his failed attempt to strip you, he is back to trying to take your clothes off. 

At this point you understand why he’s rushing you but ease his worries with some kisses and words of reassurement. “This is an important moment, Minsu. I’m not going to rush it. I promise I’m not going to change my mind and back out or anything. If you want to-”

“Absolutely not!”

You stifle a laugh. “I was going to say it would be fine if you changed your mind halfway through, but it seems I don’t have to worry about that.”

He whines as he bares himself to you, urging you to hurry up, though the franticness of it has subsided, the assurance working. It was just plain old impatience now. 

You finally, finally, remove your clothes and he is mesmerized the entire time. He’s seen glimpses before, through the gap in your curtains when you’ve changed, but this? This was entirely different. He looks at you with awe and lust, barely holding back from lunging at you for a taste since you told him to lay back. 

Then you crawl over him and cage him between your arms, a devilish grin on your face. The poor boy is so ridiculously wet it’s kind of insane to think about. 

His legs wrap around you, grinding up into your hips as his arms cling to you, begging for more touch. You yield to his desires, devouring him just as expected. It’s only been heavy petting and he’s already a mess. 

You take his hand and kiss his wrist, taking in his sweet scent, letting his arousal mix with yours as you nip at the skin there. Minsu is so whiny and it shows. 

When you line yourself up with him you look at his face and he is so fucking horny he’s shaking, his head vigorously nodding yes. As you sink into him he cries out, hands grasping at you in any capacity as his eyes slam shut. The visual stimulus is too much, but when he can’t see all he can think about is how you feel and that doesn’t help either. 

He’s begging you. He doesn’t say what he’s begging for though. It’s just a long string of “please please please please please fuck please…” Is he asking for you to hold on and wait or is he asking that you move? Yes. He can’t fucking decide so you do it for him and raise your hips up and slam back down. 

His head flies back and he lets out a string of curses.

Then you grab him by the chin, thumb pushing his mouth open and press against his tongue. He moans and licks it obediently. When you tell him to open his eyes however he’s hesitant to do so, and when he does, he stares at your face. 

“Are you going to waste my time and not even pay attention to the show I’m giving you? After all that effort you put in trying to see me naked?” 

Every single fucking thing you’ve said and done has him hanging by a fucking thread and when eyes finally trail down to see where you’re connected he disobeys your orders and shuts his eyes back closed, grunts and whines as he does so. 

“Oh~ I see how it is. You’re not going to be good for me? Y’know, bad boys don’t get marked, Minsu~ I thought you wanted to be claimed?” your honeyed voice teasing him. 

He’s crying. He is legit crying. “Nononononooo. Pleasepleaseplease I’ll be good. I just- I can’t- I want it to last- Fuck-” his eyes try to open. He sees your pretty face in a mock pout. He sees how your cock disappears into him. And his eyes shut again, tears falling from his eyes. “I-I-I’m sorry! I want to be good! I- FUCK-”

And you feel him convulse around you. His cries are so hot as his body tenses. His own cock spilling cum onto his stomach. It takes a while for him to come down from his high.

He’s hiding his face as he sobs, apologizing and begging for another chance. That he’ll do better and that you should please fucking claim him. Please for the love of god claim him. 

You have never been so fucking horny in your life. You wipe away his tears after moving his hands and give him reassuring kisses. “Of course I’m going to claim you. I promised you, didn’t I? It’s okay, honey. Just take some deep breaths and calm down.” 

He’s nodding, suppressing his hiccups as he listens. When he’s gotten to a point where he’s calm again you start thrusting into him slowly again. His own soft cock doesn’t stay that way for long, considering he’s insatiable when it comes to you. 

It all builds up again, but this time he’s not constantly on the brink of cumming too soon. It’s still close though. 

When you start kissing his neck, leaving a line of hickies for him to find later, he is back to grasping at your back, neck outstretched as much as it can. You take the moment to bask in how delicious his scent is right then, before you mark him as yours. 

With one last look on his face for any doubt, of which you find none, you finally go for the kill, biting and breaking his skin where every mated couple has done so in all of history. 

If you thought the moans from when he came too soon were wanton, then this was downright scandalous. 

The primal aspect of it has you going feral as you come alongside him this time, biting down even harder, barely keeping in mind to not actually hurt him. 

When you two relax you’re lapping at the blood on his neck and he’s just this shivery mess of limbs. His mind is so fucking clouded and if his body were in better condition he’d be begging to do it all over again. 

Once he’s no longer bleeding you kiss the mark before kissing him. The taste of his blood on your lips really makes the act feel real, his tongue lazily prodding yours until you flop over next to him. 

His breath and voice are still shaky as he thanks you profusely. You wipe the two of you down with some towels and he thanks you again. When you lay back down his shivering body then curls up into your arms as you pull the blanket up over you two. 

His thoughts aren’t even words anymore. They’re just hearts. Just a bunch of <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 with you in mind.  ❤️  ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯  ❤️

[zapreportsblog]

The Secret Revealed

➥ summary: Mash didn’t think anyone would find out his secret, too bad someone did

➥ a/n: someone once asked me to disclose where I’ve gotten all of my art from for my stories, as well as tag the artists. Sadly, all the pictures I use for my stories, or even the gifs I use come from either Google or Pinterest. Also, I just finished watching this anime so hopefully I got something correct . I appreciate the unwavering support you all have shown me so thank you for reading :)

➥ mashle magic and muscles / mash burnedead x reader

On the outskirts of the majestic city of Evervale, nestled amidst the lush greenery, stood the prestigious Magic Academy, a school renowned for honing the magical abilities of young witches and wizards. Among its students was a young man named Mash Burnedead, who, despite coming from a long line of powerful sorcerers, found himself burdened with a dark secret.

•••

On a bright morning, the school's training grounds were buzzing with students fervently practicing their magical arts. Mash was amidst the crowd, his brow furrowed in concentration as he attempted to conjure a simple levitation spell. But no matter how hard he tried, the faintest glimmer of magic eluded him, leaving him frustrated and disheartened.

As he practiced, a mysterious figure caught his eye. A girl with captivating eyes and a determined expression was making her way toward him. Mash recognized her as (Y/N), a fellow student he had often seen around the campus.

Feeling a knot forming in his stomach, Mash couldn't help but wonder what she wanted. He had always been a reserved and introverted young man, preferring to keep to himself and avoid unnecessary attention. The prospect of being confronted by someone, especially about his secret, sent his heart racing.

Approaching him, (Y/N) stopped a few paces away, her gaze locked onto his eyes, making him feel exposed and vulnerable. He tried to smile, but it came out more like a nervous twitch.

"You," she said, her voice carrying an unusual mix of curiosity and confidence, "I know your secret."

Mash felt the world around him momentarily freeze. His secret was something he had kept hidden from even his closest friends and family. Panic gripped his heart, and his mind raced through possible scenarios.

"W-What secret?" Mash stammered, his voice barely audible.

The girl's lips curved into a knowing smile, adding to Mash's anxiety. "Don't play innocent with me. I know you have no magic," she said, her tone unwavering.

His secret was out. It felt like the ground beneath him had disappeared, leaving him adrift in a sea of uncertainty. How had she found out? Was she going to expose him to the entire school, ridiculing him for his inability to wield magic?

Feeling cornered, Mash tried to think of a way out. "I-I can explain," he stammered, his mind searching for the right words. "It's not what you think. I just... haven't unlocked my powers yet."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by his explanation. "Really?" she retorted, her voice laced with skepticism. "You've been at this school for years, and you still haven't unlocked your magic? Come on, it's time to be honest with yourself."

Mash's shoulders slumped, defeated. The weight of his secret was crushing, and he felt a mix of shame and vulnerability. He had always felt like an outcast, trying desperately to fit in with the magical talents that surrounded him.

Before he could muster the courage to ask her what she intended to do with this newfound knowledge, (Y/N) surprised him with her response. "But I won't tell anyone," she said, her expression softening. "Your secret is safe with me."

Her words were like a lifeline, pulling him from the depths of his despair. Mash was taken aback by her unexpected kindness. He had prepared for the worst, but her understanding and assurance gave him a glimmer of hope.

"Why would you keep my secret?" he asked, unable to hide his astonishment.

(Y/N) gave him a small smile, her eyes full of empathy. "Because I believe that people should be defined by their character, not just their magical abilities. I see more in you than the absence of magic. Let's keep this between us, alright?"

Gratitude flooded Mash's heart, and he nodded earnestly. "Thank you," he whispered, overwhelmed by her generosity.

As she turned to leave, (Y/N) looked back at him one last time, her eyes filled with a newfound respect. "You're welcome," she replied. "But remember, secrets have a way of shaping us. It's up to you to embrace who you are, magic or not."

With those parting words, she walked away, leaving Mash to ponder the unexpected encounter. Little did he know that this chance meeting with (Y/N) would change the course of his life forever, leading him on a journey of self-discovery, acceptance, and the realization that true strength came from within, magic or no magic.

[pidges-lost-robot]

Been bothering @joshbii to tell me what they think each voltron character would be in a pathfinder game (to do an alternate version of the monsters and mana designs, a journeytaker campaign if you will (please don't I'm sorry)):

Pidge: Swashbuckler with a psychic dedication and she absolutely fully leans into it cause Lance isn't the only dramatic bitch here

Shiro: There was a couple possibilities between a Champion or potentially a Monk or a Magus with spellfist

Lance: Gunslinger w/Bard and he pretends all of this is nerd shit but he's optimised his character to hell cause he cannot just let this character be a joke

Keith: Witch with a familiar he brings along with him (a.k.a foreshadowing for Kosmo later cause shush) or potentially a ranger or potentially a Ruffian

Allura: Aerokineticist who is trying to gain all the elements eventually with the joke later being that the team realise with the order she's going in her character is becoming the Avatar and she doesn't get it xD (not Josh trying to get me to make up not derivative references, dude shush: )

Coran: Investigator/the GM of the game like last time with an Investigator character he likes to just annoy the team with for fun

Hunk: Magus with a warhammer and magic shield with a focus on fighting against the abuse of magic

[Please don't roast me for how I describe these, this is Josh's burden I'm new to pathfinder lore]

[With their knowledge I will probably draw these at some point too]

[intertexts]

OK OK WORM UPDATE. I JUST GOT THRU INTERLUDE 1. ohhhh my god the shit about Scion????? horrifying. fills me with such immense dread. i don't know if its SUPPOSED to be like that but knowing vaguely how this story gets i immediately saw "man with golden skin appearing floating naked above water healing people who touch him and stopping disasrers and generally being seen as a GOD" and my first thought was ohhhh no oh fuck . i LOVE that shit. i hope scion is like. relevant enough to come up again and not just some vague historical figure bc ohhh my god i love that kind of worldbuilding. yeah man! if this guy showed up one day with no warning and was THE FIRST person with superpowers ever??? people WOULD go nuts and trear him like a deity!!!

anyway i also liked seeing from taylors dads pov. not much 2 say abt him yet i just thought it was neat :]

and i am VERY sus on the whole "so who gets credit for this" thing that armsman(?) brought up. hmmmmm

ohh this is such a fascinating first impression to me..... putting u under the microscope <3333. ALSO. saying this early iiii... probably am not going to speak on a lot of yr analysis other than vaguely giggling and saying ominous things (burdened by terrible knowledge) but!!! believe me im SO excited 2 hear it <333 anyway yeah im a HUGE fan of the way worm deals w/ the "how and when did superpowers become a thing? how did that affect the world?" questions..

taylors dad!!!! danny hebert.... man. also!!!!! what r yr taylor thoughts so fsr!!!!?? eyes emoji eyes emoji

[thenightfolknetwork]

I am an antichrist.

The Real thing, born to a seventh virgin daughter after her soul was consumed by my father, Satan, in a ritual of fire, glory and light.

I was raised as instructed by The Book— Don't ask which Book, you don't want to know, the knowledge would melt your eardrums— to be the destroyer of the world, the prince of sins and the devourer of souls. I am the One Who Will Bring Fire to the earth, I am the One who will run the blood of innocents through the streets and boil the sea with my mere desire, I am the dark side of the moon, I am humanity's nightmare, I am—

I am 12 years old.

And I'm at school.

I just learned about ecosystems: The delicate balance of a food chain, the harmony that exists in the earth when a network of fungi extracts nitrogen from the earth and a rotting tree leaves the soil rich for next spring.

I found out about corals recently too. They are alive and an extremely complex life form for something that will never move, corals don't die as long as nothing kills them, isn't that a strange and wonderful concept?

I always wanted to be the World Destroyer.

It never occurred to me that bringing hell to earth would mean no deer or bees or coyotes.

If you increase the average sea temperature by more than two degrees, millions of corals will die. I don't know if I want to boil the sea if that's the end result.

But I am the Antichrist and I like being the Antichrist. I like to be Apotheosis, the crack in the glass, the rotten apple, the mercury in the water.

But I also like the world as it is, even if it doesn't bow down to me in fear.

What do I do?

(What do I say to my father?)

This is the problem with prophecies – they always put the subject under such a tremendous amount of pressure! I feel sure that, if your father had simply not mentioned his plans for your future, you would have grown up without these anxieties and likely gone on to fulfil your unholy purpose without a second thought, in a time frame that felt sensible and natural to you.

Instead, you've been burdened with a terrible and unreasonable amount of responsibility. No wonder you're feeling torn! This is more than any twelve year old should have to consider.

The important thing to remember is that you don't have to make a decision about this right away. You are the Antichrist and you will remain the Antichrist while you take a little while to decide the best course of action for you. The end of the world will still be there when you're ready for it.

As to the apocalypse itself, this is the other reason prophecies can be so frustrating. They are simply never specific enough to be helpful. Yes, you may be destined to end the world – but which world, exactly? And how much of that 'blood of innocents, boiling seas' stuff is literal, and how much is just a religious scribe getting carried away with himself?

In my experience, there are many, many ways a person might fulfil a prophecy without having to bring a fiery demise to this particular realm of existence. You might take a short hop over to another reality and destroy an uninhabited world, for example.

Alternatively, you might take your prophecy in a more metaphorical sense. “The world” we live in today is one that allows billionaires and business magnates destroy our environment in the name of profit. Perhaps you could fulfil your great purpose by destroying the social and political structures that make that world possible.

I understand your trepidation about bringing this up with your father. However, I really do think that you should consider it. Looking after you is his job, after all, and I'm sure he wouldn't want you struggling with these feelings alone. Reach out to him, and let him know how you feel.

You don’t have to decide this all at once. Whatever else you say to your father, you need to make it clear that you will not be embarking on any sort of apotheosis until you've at least finished your GCSEs. You are a child, and you deserve to have a proper childhood, whatever the future might hold for you.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[george228732]

A little fun fact about my AU here since AU Posting is busy.

You know that in several art pieces, I used Film Tape symbolism? My AU, basically can be interpreted as a theater play, in which the outcome is always a bad ending.

In context, Cosmounse made the script that way, and Fylass wants to rewrite the part of the script that's not written yet, based on countless other scripts he managed to see in back stage (Note, this is not literal, just an interpretation of certain outcomes based on that idea since the AU was partly written with that interpretation in mind, that's why in my fic, the names of the chapters are from other stories or plays).

Which for it, means that Fylass helped in changing the ending, with the help of the others, reason on why some parts of my AU seem to be very fitting in the context of a play. I made jokes about Fylass "Undooming the Doomed narrative" but it's not really that much of a joke, which pretty much implies that if no one had done anything or be made aware of what was happening, my AU would've always ended up in a hypothetical Bad Ending.

Besides the religious take on it that's basically what happened in the Garden of Eden with Fylass being Lucifer, and Adam and Eve being the ones he loves. The Apple is the "Forbidden Knowledge" so in this context is basically The Truth and yet another reason why Fylass' main color is Red.

It kinda goes along with the lines of Fylass hating Magolor! Just that in Magolor's case, He's both Jesus and Judas, but in Fylass' case, God and the Devil are one and the same, since at the end of the day, you can figure out he has both roles. Fylass did bring down the Pardus Clan with him, like how Lucifer brought down Adam and Eve, but also in Popstar he tries to take the role of a messiah figure to save 4 people, also why Crowned Fylass both takes inspiration from the bible and pagan holidays, with the main one being Walpurgisnacht (Witches Night).

Also for more parallels, Walpurgisnacht was a celebration for the person "Saint Walpurga" who seemingly kept the witches away from the masses and healed the sick, not too dissimilar from how Fylass behaves with the Dream Team and Wave Three. And last but not least, it was rumored that Saint Walpurga was a witch herself, and the reason why Fy is a basilisk, which are creatures that are kings of serpents, fire, and usually come from Hell.

Now Niru

Niru, for the ones that don't know, is Void Termina when Kirby was still part of him, being the body that surrounds Void's Soul. He is often associated with Water, but specifically fluids in general, since he's meant to be something that flows as time passes. He gave impurities and some darkness to his creations to truly enforce free will, but overall, he was sad seeing his creations be sad over these things and knowing that if they believe in god, they would be begging for them to cleanse their sorrows, so at one point, he regretted his decision and started to slowly consume those impurities himself, being something like, carry the burden of others upon himself, but eventually this made him lose himself in corruption and became Void Termina.

Before he was sealed though a part that wasn't corrupted by the Darkness was separated from him and became Kirby, while the Darkness that got loose in battle became 0, who can reincarnate constantly thanks to Niru's impurities.

At the end of the AU, both parts reunite, and Kirby swears that he, along with the others will help him carry the burden and cleanse him of his Impurities, something they achieve.

In terms of Motifs, if Fylass' motifs are religious, Niru's are Cosmic.

Normally, when a Star gathers insane amounts of energy, they explode and become supernovas, a thing that parallels Niru but instead of Exploding, he gets consumed by a Black Hole he did himself.

Also the fact that he's based on Owls, being Night Birds, and Lovecraftian Entities, specially Cthulhu, who belong to Cosmic Horror.

He also shares a motif with time and a play along with Fylass and Cosmounse

If Fylass is the Pendulum and the script writer, and Cosmounse is the hands and the Director, Niru is the Hours and the Play itself, or rather, he's the End Roll.

Also he's based on The Happy Prince