#I DIDNT MESS UP THE LETTERS THIS TIME

[3xtatical]

I would take a bullet for you just to prove my 'LOVE'--

--Only to find out you are the one holding the gun.

[kizzer55555]

Jason: welp, this was clearly for me so this is my kid.

Dick: nah, I was right behind you, I think it was suppose to hit me.

Tim: clearly your both wrong. Getting involved in government facilities is my thing. Obviously they just put in the coordinates wrong.

Cass: new son.

Bruce: now hold up, clearly they needs help and out of all of us I am the most experienced with traumatic children. This kid needs a responsible parental figure.

Damian: which is why it should be me.

Meanwhile, Danny, freshly escaped from the GIW has no idea who these people are or why they keep calling him son. Isn’t one of them like 10???? And why is the girl trying to get Danny to call her father?

Are…are these people ok?

Should he get someone?

Message to the past

Was one nice family dinner in the Wayne Family really possible? Jason was starting to think it wasn't. The evening started out so well, for once he did not have any sort of beef with Bruce for the moment. He got to spend time with Alfred preparing the dinner. Neither Demon Brat nor Pretender were at each other's throats because of a case yet and there was no argument about to happen with Dickie either and he didn't feel like avoiding Bruce. Did he mention he didn't feel like leaving the Manor at the first sight of his old man?

Everything felt like it was gearing up to be a nice and well deserved family dinner with all his siblings being in one space for once.

That was until a Lazarus Green portal opened and a fucking silver green tin can smack dab hit him square in the face. Causing him to fall backwards in his chair and hitting his head painfully on the floor. Why didn't they have carpet in the dinner room again? Oh right, someone -one of his siblings- got mud all over it after patrol and Alfred decided the dinner room didn't need it anymore.

Once the first shock of what had just happened passed. They got to inspect the tin can and found a letter inside it.

Dear future Dad,

Gramps Clockwork spoilered that there is a mess up in the timeline because of the speedsters and I can fix it like this, which is why I am writing this. Please pick me up in the attached location marked on the map. My current self is in need of saving and I honestly would like to spare myself at least a little of the trauma that's about to happen.

Also please bring some explosives. You always regretted not blowing up a corupted govermental facility, so here is your chance of doing so! Be proud, though. I blew up a bunch of them in the future, with supervision, of course, from my uncles and aunts, so great grandpa wouldn't worry.

Please pick me up? Thanks if you do!

Your future adopted son.

PS: please ignore any complains my current self might have. I was in server need of a real parental figure and as you like to say as stubborn as grandpa.

PSS: also please stop antagonizing grandpa about my adoption. It's bad enough that you had to fight him over it in the first place.

PSSS: please bring great grandpa's cookies, I beg you please! I swear I will do all my schoolwork and be a straight A student if you do!

The girls of the family started to pout while the boys exchanged glances. Jason narrowed his eyes at his brothers. There was a silent argument happening and Bruce was watching them all also.

But if there was one thing Jason was sure about. It was that the tin can smacked him in the face. Which meant the letter was his and the time shenanigans arson kid with sass was going to be his kid. His brothers AND Bruce can fight him over that.

Like the kid has said in his letter.

[nico-sees-dead-people]

[in the morning]

*nico wakes before @dr-flipflops and sighs looking at him on the sofa so gently uses some shadows to move him into the bed, tucking him in and smoothing his hair back and scribbling a note reading “morning sleepyhead, here’s your reminder to drink some fucking water and eat more than a muffin and also to let your mother know that you have a cough or so help me hades solace ill do it myself, ill probably be gone when you read this because i have to pick aria up from sally’s but ill be back at somepoint because your mom made me promise, love you dont die see you soon” before whispering “love you” and leaving the room to speak to naomi*

nico: good morning mrs solace uhm.. sorry for intruding i didnt exactly plan to come it was more accidental shadowtravelling episode

naomi: nonsense, you know youre always welcome here, even after everythin’

nico (watery smile): yeah i know, how is he, will i mean, he doesnt seem.. happy

naomi: hes as well as he can be in this situation, he’d be doin’ better if he found it easier t’ let people in, if he let you properly communicate with him but… i also can’t blame him for his reaction

nico: neither can i, and i know i messed up, im trying to fix it i just- i don’t know how and.. *his voice breaks* i miss him and so does ari

naomi: *smiles gently at him* he does care about you nico, hes just hurtin’, he misses you too *she pulls him into a hug* it’ll be alright in the end

Nico: *fully crying now* thanks mrs solace

naomi: *pats him on the back softly* anytime sweetheart, now, you said you had somethin’ t’give me?

nico: ah, yes, *he pulls a thick bundle of letters out of his aviator jacket* its a collection of letters ive written to will throughout his amnesia, explaining.. well just about everything, when he says hes ready and wants to know then he can read all of them regardless if he wants to see me or not

naomi *smiling*: thats a lovely idea hon, very thoughtful of you, ill give them to him once you’ve gone back though, the topic is sensitive enough without…

nico *nodding*: without the added stress of my presence, i was just about to say that, besides i have to pick up aria from her aunt sally’s, she had a sleepover the past couple of nights

naomi: you should bring her, next time you come, i know will don’t remember but i do, an’ i miss my granddaughter

nico *smiling*: i will mrs solace dont worry, she misses you too, and thank you, for everything

naomi: dont thank me sweetheart its been my pleasure

*nico begins to wave goodbye before noticing will standing in the doorway*

[beloveds-embrace]

Noon, babe, I have such bad brain rot right now and need to share it. Right, going on an undercover intel mission with TF141, its a big fancy charity gala and as the daughter of an billionaire its easy to get on the guestlist and you need to pick a plus 1. The boys all argue on who it should be but ultimately you pick Gaz (you dont want to make Simon uncomfortable by making him take of his mask, people you know are there and they'll know Price is older than your usual dates and Soap is too crass). So you to the gala in a beautiful backless dress that matches the colour of Kyles tie and you begin your mission. You eventually make your way to an office where you download documents but get warning that someone's coming so in an attempt to make it seem like you werent snooping, you grab Kyle and sit on the edge of the desk, slotting him between your legs and messing up both your hairs and his tye before placing one of his hands on your tight and hitching it around his hip while his other one goes to your lower back and you pull him into a heated kiss. You do get interupted but manage to play it of as you just wanting to get frisky with each other and when you return to the party and immediately leave Kyle has a hardon the whole time and you propse to finish what you started putting the divider up in the limo and fucking Kyle in the back. When you get back to base, its obvious what happened and the others are jealous and raging they didnt get to fuck you first so they all take turns until you can barely remember your own name

I can’t hoard this any longer but lord. Anon. I need to make out with your brain it’s just too good 😩 imagine also wearing lace lingerie or- or those thigh jewelry with the letters and you are wearing one with K on it?? Im abt to go feral like Kyle would also be the second he notices all the little details.

A lil offtopic but the best song for this? Petition by beyonce because also imagine talking dirty to Kyle in french?? Lord forgive me im abt to BUST

the dress and lingerie aren’t surviving once you return to base though <33 they gotta show you how nicely they can fuck you too <33

[kindaasrikal]

The hate Misako receives is way to strong you guys need to relax with my girl 😭

Like whats with everyone hating Wu and Misako for making mistakes but then looking at Garmadon like ‘omg he’s the best parent! Best character! He didn’t mean to do it!’ Like please if you’re gonna hate the first two for their reasonable mistakes then you gotta hate Garmadon for his too.

Misako was just made into a single mum and had her family ripping to parts in a matter of seconds, we have no idea if Garmadon was banished before or after her pregnancy and personally i believe either way it would make sense why she would make such a mistake as leaving Lloyd.

‘But she could’ve left Lloyd with Wu!’ Thats a bad idea on its own because (and presuming that Morro left just a few years ago, so Misako and Garmadon know of him and what happened)

1) i doubt Wu would be prepared to look after a child after Morro having such a large effect on him (so Misako wouldn’t bring it up with him)

2) Misako AND Wu were grieving the loss of Garmadon, WU DID NOT MEAN TO SEND GARMADON-WHO WAS TRYING TO KILL HIM- TO THE UNDERWORLD.

3) Misako knows what effect the green ninja prophecy can have on a child after Morro, and whilst she definitely doesn’t blame Wu for what happened to Morro (its no ones and everyones fault), she can’t let the possibility of that happen to her baby.

and 4) she can’t have him hate Wu or Garmadon. Wu obviously visited Lloyd during his time in Darkleys cause both of them knew of each other and were familiar enough for Wu to casually scold him and Lloyd to insult Wu. Misako did not want her boy to hate either man and left him at a school that could guarantee that Garmadon is never hated either at such a young age.

Misako did leave and that was a bad choice on her part, but if the writers could manage it better you could have seen a great story based on a single mother in a difficult situation, and the mistakes she made throughout that. Like guys she spent ten years dedicating her LIFE to trying to find a solution to the final battle and the green ninja thing, she spent years thinking of Garmadon and LLOYD, SPECIFICALLY LLOYD, constantly. Misako is a mother who made a mistake, but is a mother who wholeheartedly loves Lloyd more than anything and anyone else.

She could’ve sent letters to Lloyd, but Garmadon could’ve visited Lloyd using the whole shadow powers thing. They both could’ve done so much more to be apart of Lloyd’s life but didn’t. Wu portrays a parent who was inexperienced with Morro, Misako and Garmadon portray parents who were inexperienced, unsure, in difficult positions, and could not handle the situation they were in appropriately. They all are people guys, adults are not all powerful and do not know what to do in the right moments, they are confused and they can be overwhelmed and they can make mistakes, and in this situation a lot of the mistakes had a negative affect on Lloyd, but even Lloyd understands that their situation was not a fair one.

I understand that they messed up big time, I’m not going to downplay that, but genuinely i think the reason everyone is STILL so mad at her specifically is because how poorly she was handled. They introduced her and then immediately victimised her despite the fact they could’ve pointed a view of a guilty mother who doesn’t know HOW to mother. They could’ve shown the actual closure Lloyd needed because I think we all need it too.

THEY DIDNT HANDLE MISAKO’S CHARACTER AND STORY RIGHT AND RUINED A CHARACTER THAT COULDVE BEEN SOOOOO GOOD BFFHDYDG

[hisaame]

— ⧽➻Wanderer with a crush!˒˒ˋˋ

『its how i think wanderer would be id he had a crush,,, and this takes place obviously after he stopped being 'scaramouche'.』

╰ˊˊtw: soft wanderer (help), cursing, wanderers past trauma (kabukimono/kunikuzushi) its just a lil bit tho, spoilers.╎ + its a wanderer x reader type shit, so he falls for you!

He thought it couldn't be possible, but it happened. he was already upset at himself for allowing himself to spend time with you. And with those soft and sweet smiles of yours, he'd almost always looks away—and what you wouldn't notice was his his blushy pink cheeks that would always fade back into his normal pale, color when he'd turn to look back at you, tilting his hat a bit to hide his own smirk.

The guy had even known you when he was once Scaramouche, you'd catch his eye from time to time, but he never really thought about talking to you. Back then he just thought of you as a 'pretty girl', then he'd scoff and turn away. He even wished he'd gotten the chance to have one chat with you before he deletes himself out of existence as Scaramouche. You always seemed to look at him with that cheerful smile. But he's glad he got a chance to befriend you, and now, as a normal person.

He didn't even think puppets could fall in love, nor did he think his porcelain face could turn red! But it began happening more often often the more he hung out with you. Being a wanderer made him not be busy—unlike his past self as Scaramouche who always had things to do. He despised that old part of him, but now he's a changed man alright. He's still vedy cautious and trying his best not to show any vulnerability, he wouldn't wanna remind himself of the rime he was a pathetic, dumb doll who allowed himself to be betrayed.

But he wouldn't let you betray him, no. You're stuck with him.

He didnt exactly understand the concept of „love“. He's seen couples in Sumeru and didn't quite get why they were so affectionate, prepping kisses on eachothers lips and always holding hands. He'd sometimes even cringe at it. Even imagining himself like that with you felt weird... Wait, whys he thinking of it in the first place!?

After finally accepting the fact he's in love after days of trying to convince himself he isn't, he began to think—would you feel the same? That thought made him anxious, if you saw him as only a friend. If he really wanta you, he'd try.

And he did.

He'd go to the library more often, looking for romance books and even looking arouns him to make sure noones looking. He doesnt wanna be caught reading something so embarrassing... He read a few stories, even some tips and tricks on how to flirt, which he found pathetic. Who would wanna say "did it hurt when you fell from heaven" to someone they like? Pathetic! But as he read some romance stories, short and simple, he just couldn't help but imagine how it would be with you... How soft your lips would feel against his, and they way your twos fingers would intertwine.

And then he tried some things out.

He has tried pinning you against a wall, fortunately getting a reaction od you having a small blush, but then brushing it right off and smiling like he didn't do anything. Then he even grabbed your chin between his indec finger and thumb to make u look up at him—and you didn't even have a reaction! Wasn't that something common people did to get people to be flustered!?

He was beyond frustrated, even ended up asking Nahida for some help, to which she happily recommended for him to write you a letter, if he was too scared to say what he wanted it in person. 𝖧𝖾 called it pathetic and stupis, and a waste of time at first, but then he immediately began writing one after.

It took him so many tries, so many crumbled up papers on the ground, to the point Nahida also helped him come up with words to write. At last, finally, he decided to be sneaky and put it in your mailbox, knowing you will be opening it soon. He was a flustered mess as soon as he was rushing away once he put the letter in.

He'll definitely be even more flustered if you tease him about the letter the next day... ♡

[hotwritergf]

I have a habbit of messing up peoples names, ive called my mom my brothers name. Sometimes ill start with someone elses name and correct myself like sara-mily or i get it early so its just the first letter like saying ch-steve

I was just thinking about bestfriends eddie x reader where reader accidentally calls eddie daddy because theyre so similar. She goes to say a d name but catches herself and says eddie. She was talking fast and didnt even catch herself saying it until eddies like "did you just call me daddy?"

Accidentally calling Eddie ‘Daddy’. Eddie Munson x female reader. Blurb. Fluff.

I hope this is okay, I’m sick at the moment so it’s kinda self indulgent but I tried to personalise it a bit for you!

The night was like any other of yours and Eddie’s movie nights. Bags of candy spilled out on the floor, blankets swallowing you both up and a blunt being passed between you. Today was tiring, work couldn’t be more stressful and of course you were understaffed. Eddie came to pick you up at closing time, he already had your cup of tea in his cup-holder. It was the small things you appreciated the most from your best friend.

You had your head on his chest, because Eddie said “it will help your migraine I promise.” You wanted to believe him but the smirk on his face just showed he wanted to look after you. Eddie held his palm to your forehead, “you’re burning up a little, I’ll get you some medicine. Wait right here.” He ushers himself out from the blankets and into the kitchen. Rooting through the cupboards as you pause the movie, he reappears holding a bottle and a medicine spoon. Pouring the contents onto the spoon, “open up darling” he smirks as he feeds you.

You wince at the taste of the bitter medicine, swiftly taking a swig of your soda to wash away the taste. Wiping your mouth you whisper, “thank you d-daddy” “e-Eddie I meant Eddie!!” Your face flushes immediately, wanting the ground to swallow you up as you blurt out your sentence. Your brain was on auto pilot and Eddie and Daddy sounded far too similar for your mouth to comprehend whilst you’re suffering so bad with your migraine.

“What was that? Did you just call me daddy?” Eddie smirks, teasing you as he pulls your hands away from your blushing face.

“I- no! The words got scrambled in my head m’sorry I’m so embarrassed, I’m sorry.” You pull away from Eddie’s touch, bringing your knees to your chest and resting your head on them. Terrified that you’ve ruined your friendship, how could Eddie not see you differently after calling him that? A word so not-inherently bad but turned kinky and shameful, he could assume you’re into that. Not that it would be a bad thing to be kinky, you just weren’t.

“Hey hey hey.” Eddie pulls at your arms, “just look at me.” His voice is like velvet, so comforting but you’re shaking. Wishing you could be ignorant and never face this issue. “Come on princess, just want to see you smile.” You can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

You stick to your guns, refusing to move and face him. “You leave me no choice then, I didn’t want to do this sweetheart. But you asked for this..” Eddie coos into your ear before teasing his fingers over your neck, ghosting over your skin and down to your sides. He pokes and prods your ribs, flailing back into Eddie’s chest, trying to swat at his hands to put an end to his ticklish assault.

“Okay! Okay!” You plead, holding on to Eddie’s wrists and looking deep into his eyes. He stills his hands, holding yours and dropping them into his lap. “I didn’t mean to say it Eddie, honestly.” Your voice stuttering as you whimpered. “It’s not a big deal. Seriously, I understand. You do that a lot with words, I’ve seen it. You’re okay. It’s okay. We’re okay.” A mischievous smile spreads over his face when he sees you let go of the breath you’ve been holding for the entire moment. Sighing, you let yourself smile, feeling safe knowing that Eddie doesn’t judge you.

“There’s that smile. Gotta hear that laugh too, you know, for daddy?” He teases before jumping on top of you and tickling you again.

[overall-mamori]

CHAPTER 10 SPOILERS AND ANALYSIS

More under the cut

These three lines.. from Romeo, Haru and a log hints to alot of things that I'll just out then in bulletpoints

★Jabberwock is hinted to be a prison(?) for anomolies waiting for a sentence

★now to this Elias, could Elias be Towa?

★Ed means that Towa is basically the heart or controller of the entire Jabberwock area, and all the anomolies will die without him staying in the dorm

★after Ed's lines Towa says something about he shouldn't involve Haru into this.

★but how can Towa know Ed? As far as we've seen so far, Towa has only actually spoken to his fellow housemates and then Ed, but why?

★what if Towa used to be from Obscuary before he moved Jabberwock for his 2nd year? I think that should check out why he talks to Ed this way

★Towa is js acting silly and goofy and loveable for what? Does he want to stay with Haru that much he'll act like another identity?

★Elias is one letter of to Alias which Just means another identity or name, is Towa's real name or demon/non-human name this Elias?

★And Romeo didnt say anything after Haru mentioned Elias, could it be that he's stays to be silent. Does he know something about it but too hesitatent to follow up?

★Towa - could be something other than a ghoul

★And then Rui killing someone that probably got him into Darkwick, or he is the murderer for the One-Eyed Sleeping Beauty murder

★Ed once again drops a damn lore bomb: "you may have forgotten but your body hasnt." He said that as he touches Rui's hood and he flinches/sweatdrops

★Rui killed a real human. Probably a general student, not a ghoul. Atleast we know his kill count is only 1😭(1.5 if you innclude the anomaly tho..)

★when he touched Ms. Takamine(i think that's her name) he didnt let go of her arm, probably or most likely in shock and getting PTSD

★this wasnt in my scratch but the orphanage gang increases yayyy

Back to Ed:

★he's got a power to make mist that will make the inhaler relaxed, comfortable and in euphoria, but it'll will make them pass out. Since it's gas the person can just close their mouth and nose

★on the topic of his gas, Lyca and Rui didnt have to cover their noses and mouths, does the gas not affect ghouls like mesmer matches?

★when MC inhaled it, her thoughts became concerningly messed up, there's spaces in her words THATS IN HER HEAD.

★whats more, Being a vampire makes youa immune to curses so Ed almost convinced MC to let her become one

★"pityful thing. How many times must you and Lyca make the same mistake before you learn?" Does he mean that Lyca is making the mistake of trying to learn to become human and MC trying to get rid of her curse?

★Anyone can use black magic, but finding the perfect spell to summon a demon you can pact with is rare. lot alone Surviving them. Glad to know how actually rare ghouls are More clearly

i had fun, too much fun making this

[n8doe]

A.N — this pooped into my head so i hope its good enough for you guys

SUMMARY — you and chris have an ongoing prank war, so you decide to play a silly little prank on him while hes away.

WARNINGS — lowercase letters intended, slight CUSSING 😳😱😱.

you set up your phone, making sure the camera angle was perfect and hidden from chris’s view. he was due back any minute, and you couldnt wait to see his reaction to the prank you had planned. you decided to pretend that you had dyed your hair green while he was away. you had a wig ready and everything. it looked pretty realistic, even nick fell for it, and the prank wasnt even on him.

the door creaked open, and you quickly positioned yourself on his bed, the vibrant green wig in place. chris walked in, looking tired but happy to be home. his eyes widened as he saw you lying on his bed with green hair.

"babe, what did you do to your hair?" he asked, dropping his bag in the corner and rushing over to you.

you tried to keep a straight face. "do you like the green hair? i thought it was time for a plain change."

chris's mouth opened and closed a few times, clearly at a loss for words. "plain? i mean, its... its definitely hair. i just didnt expect it."

"you didnt expect it?" you tilt your head as chris squints his eyes, noticing how youre trying to hold back laughter.

he started to mess with the wig. "wheres your phone?" he asked, looking around the bed. he found it odd that you were just lying there doing nothing.

"on the charger," you point to the corner of the bedroom where you had your phone case plugged in, making it seem like your phone.

he hums, looking at the hair one last time before into your eyes, “i cant tell if i like it or not.”

“well, i dont care what you think because its my hair and its already done.”

"oh, okay," chris nods, his eyes squinting once more before he wraps one hand around your neck, pulling you into a kiss as his other hand removes the wig. he pulls away from the kiss and drops his jaw, causing you to burst out laughing.

"what the fuck?" chris stares at you in confusion and shock; he actually thought the green hair was real.

you continue to laugh, your face buried in his pillow while his hands rest on your lower back. he stares at you as you laugh, feeling a bit humiliated for falling for such an obvious prank.

you stand up and walk over to your phone, retrieving it from its hidden spot before walking back to chris and pointing it at his face.

"do you feel stupid?" you ask, zooming in on his face a bit before zooming back out to see the same shocked look. "why are you so shocked? it wasnt even that surprising."

"it looked so real," he says, lying back on the bed. "im gonna get you back, baby."

“no, youre not.”

“mhm.”

very short, simple, and boring but thats okay (no its not). i dont think i like this but i wanna post this anyway

[plush-rabbit]

part two to the unnamed chapter from like a few days ago!! honestly, im suprised people liked it. like i didnt think it would get good stuff. like i dindt think it was bad, but im like the hype has died down anyways!! we meet the man, the myth, the devil himself!!

Word Count: 4.8K

You can hardly keep your eyes open. Even with the soft yellow glow of the light, it's far too bright for you. Shutting your eyes only brings you a bit of solace. You're somewhere soft, something light and feathery pulled over you, and you shift your shoulder blades to pull your wings closer to your body, and instead you sob, the pain sharp and unforgiving to your frail body.

Did you fall? No, maybe you slept on them wrong. You don’t have to think about stretching your wings, it was always second nature, as easy as blinking and as easy as moving your arm. You’d stretch your wings, and you’d ask Adam to help you preen your wings. You shift, and something feels empty, it feels light, lighter than air. You can’t remember your wings feeling so light, not unless you were flying. You’d hate to have messed up your wings over something as frivolous as falling.

Memories rush in, fragmented, only the beginning pieces clear enough for you to remember. Your eyes snap, and you’re met with harsh lighting. You see nothing but wood and stone, and a home that is not yours, and you groan into something soft under you. Moving your arm is painful, it feels bent and sore, and you reach for feathers, and find nothing. Your cries bury themselves into something plush, something that soaks your tears and drool and leaves only a patch behind. A hand pats softly against your arm, and you flinch. 

A voice shushes out to calm you. “It's okay. You're safe. I'm not here to hurt you,” they whisper. “Just relax, and try not to move. You still haven't recovered.”

Even if they speak softly to you, it's far too loud. The words echo in your head, and attempting to think about where you are and who you're with is making you nauseous. Or perhaps it's the sickly honeyed scent that is thick in the air. 

“‘S too sweet,” you slur, clawing at fabric beneath you. You regret speaking, the movement making your already sore jaw ache further, the joints pushing into your splitting skull. Your head pulses and your mouth is cotton filled, thick and impossible to speak. “Where?” You hope that someone will give you an answer to where you are. Or at least what you're on.

“Oh, thank you,” a voice chirps. 

“Don't think it was a compliment Bee,” a thick accent says in a hushed voice.

“Well I'm taking it as one,” the voice huffs.

“You're at my home,” the gentle voice is back. “You're in a spare bed. Just try to relax.” You can’t relax with all the sound, and when you try to tell him that, you only murmur, slurring letters together. “I know, I know.” He doesn’t, but you can’t correct him. “Just try not to move so much.” It's quiet again, a silence that stretches and fills the void with nothingness. The smell and the shuffling of bodies is the only indication that you aren’t alone, that you haven’t been left yet. 

“Luci, mate, you sure it's a good idea to have an angel laying around?” You hear the chime of bells, and you want everything to stop. 

“They aren't an angel,” a voice retorts. A hand places itself over your bicep, and squeezes you softly.

“Yeah, but like, it’s still a bit dangerous, isn’t it?” The voice is much more feminine, and you can hear a buzz when they speak, a low hum that doesn’t stop. “Having one of them just on your bed.”

“A spare bed,” the voice corrects. The bed dips beside you, your fingers tap against the mattress. “It was dangerous when we were first here,” snapping at the other, before sighing. “It’s been a long time since another angel has fallen.” 

“Lucifer, honey,” this voice is smoother than the others, and you wish they would all stop talking. “What’s the plan here?” Someone makes a noise of confusion. “They aren’t an angel anymore, if anything, they’re a walking target. We don’t even know if they’re an Exorcist.”

“Heaven hasn’t cast out an Angel in so long,” the voice says softly, a finger tracing shapes onto your arm. “And I highly doubt they’re an Exorcist. I can almost- I’m positive that they aren’t.”

An Exorcist. That’s what they think. Lute flashes in your mind, and Adam follows, weapons ready, and thinking hurts far too much. You groan, nuzzling into the pillow, trying to tune out the sounds. You need them to stop talking.

A hand pats at your arm, and soon you feel fingers tangle themselves into your hair. Fingertips ghost alongside the tender part of your scalp. The voice hushes you, lulling you back into a state of unconsciousness. “I’m sorry,” they whisper, “we must be too loud for you.”

“Lucifer, I know you’re still-” the person pauses- “upset-” they sound unsure of the word they’re using- “about the last few years, but you can’t take on a pity project.”

Lucifer. They keep saying- oh shit. You let out a whimper. You don’t know if you’re thankful for being found by him, or if it’s a curse to be found by him. He shushes you once more, massaging gently at your scalp. 

“Yeah-” the buzzing is louder this time- “you know, if you were lonely, you could have just said something. I got some cute little hounds that need loving homes, ya know? And uh, they’re cute-” they hiss that word and you furrow your brows- “and practically housebroken.”

“Luci, it’s not like they’re worth much. I mean look at ‘em. I don’t even think I remember seein’ them back up when we were there, so they gotta be new or somethin’.”

The hands still, fingertips pressing into the tenderness of your head. You let out a low sound, and give a soft nudge of your head for the person- Lucifer you presume, to let go. He apologizes, soothing over the spot where he’s touched. “It’s not- They aren’t a pity project. This isn’t that. Don’t you remember how bad it was. How painful it was to fall. At least we had each other. We were stronger than most angels.” You wish they would all stop talking. Especially when they refer to falling, you can't stand to hear it. “They have no one. This is- I just want them to feel safe.” His words come to a slow stand, and if it didn’t hurt to cry, you’d sob at the reminder of your punishment. “Their wings were ripped from them, they weren’t even allowed to heal.”

“Well it ain’t like Heaven is known for their leniency.”

“Listen, Lucifer, we’re just saying that you’ve been having a lot of big emotions recently, and maybe nursing someone back to health isn’t what you need right now.” Lucifer- at least you’re assuming- makes a noise in protest at what the other voice is stating. “What’s the long-term plan, hm? You fix them and then what? Do they live here? Do you kick them out? Take them over to Charlie?”

The room is still, the buzzing has quieted down to a hum, and you feel sleep grasp onto you once more. “You should all go.” The group protests immediately, voices overlapping one another, the buzzing higher, and scent of sweets and leather grows and irritates you further. Your head pounds, banging against your skull. You shift, pulling at the wounds, and a cry muffles itself into your pillow. “It’s okay, you’re okay” the voice says in a hushed voice, palms pressed flat against you, cooling your feverish body. “I’ll give you something right now to help the pain.” He clears his throat away from you. “I have to think about things. I’ll make sure to give you updates as they come along, but for now, I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He pauses. “You should return back to your rings.”

The buzzing quiets down, and footsteps shuffle out. It's a mess of steps, puttering and pattering along the floor, and the sound is [welcomed] by silence. A door clicks shut, and you hear no lock. 

Thinking if you're a prisoner or not is too much of a task right now. The strength of the saccharine scent has left with its owner, and instead now gently wafts in the air. Somewhere on the other side of the room, you hear a sigh.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have been having that conversation with you in the room.” You let out a short huff in response. “It won’t happen again, okay? We must have been loud for you, huh?” With all the strength that you can muster, you give a short nod. “Let me go get you something for the pain, okay?” You feel a soft hand over your bicep, giving you a soft squeeze. The hand lingers with fingertips that kiss over your skin in feather light touches as they pull away. 

You drift between consciousness and unconsciousness, unable to fully sleep, but you don’t register anything that happens. All that you’re aware of is that someone is back in the room with you. He’s beside you, something plastic touching against your lips and the thick taste of medicine is bitter on your tongue. 

“I’m going to light some incense, okay?” You’d rather he give you water or anything else to wash the taste off. “You just let me know if it’s too much.” The scent is much calmer compared to the sickly sweet one from earlier. “I had Belphegor send me some sleeping aids. I believe it’s the only reason you’re able to get some actual rest.” Your lips mouth the words “thank you”. Something soft and warm covers you, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress. “I don’t know how much of your power was stripped, or how much you even had to begin with. Mammon was right about that, you are a newer angel, you might not even be able to do much other than heal.” His voice is growing harder to understand, it’s fading into the back, and sleep pulls you further in. “However, I wouldn’t ask you to even attempt to heal yourself- not in this state,” he whispers.

“Taste bad,” is all that you can mutter. Your head pounds, and it feels like it’s swelling. Each word that you speak is laid thick and slurred together. Every syllable only brings you sickness and an ache in your skull.

“I know,” he sighs. “The medicine here doesn’t taste good, but there’s not much that I can do about it.” A cloth dabs at your mouth. “Hell is supposed to be a punishment after all,” he says with a humorless laugh. “I’m- I’m sure that Heaven’s medicine is still divine as ever,” they mumble with a heavy weight on the words. 

“Like nectar,” you speak softly, the memory of it faint on your tongue. 

Something brushes along your face, and you feel the pull of sleep. “Yeah,” he breathes out, “like nectar.”

-

Knocking on the door disrupts your sleep. Something gargles sounds on the other side of the door. In your mind, it’s too faint to make anything out. You hear the squeak of the door open, and through bleary eyes, you make out two tall figures. Again, they speak to you, and you nod back to sleep.

You feel the latex of gloves touch your body, knuckles the brush against the nape of your neck and hands that grab your arms, ready to still you as you tense. “We’re just changing your bandages.” You shake your head. “It’ll be quick, just stay still.” You’d rather deal with an infection than with how the doctors treat you. You recall a voice making an argument that you’re not welcomed here, that you're an angel in a land of sin. 

“No, no,” you mutter, tears staining your face and wetting the pillow. You feel the cold breeze on your back, whispering over your wounds. The stickiness of the gauze peels away from you, and you can smell the stench of it- metallic, rich and earthy. Something so sweet, and it disgusts you and the doctors. 

Their hands grip tighter onto you, holding you down and you yelp. “Stay still.” You recall many moons ago how Lute told you something similar. How her words were laced with sorrow and false bravado. These doctors, these demons, spit the words at you, and hold you down. 

Your hands claw at the mattress, your screams echoing against the wall, bouncing and ringing in your ears. Light blinds you immediately as your eyes flash open, and your head is head, pushed down onto the mattress, as curses are spit onto you. You’re in Hell. Your teeth find themselves tearing into the pillow, drool pooling into a puddle and tears slipping down.

“Just,” they grunt, and press firmly down on your back, “stay still.” You gasp for breath, kicking and digging your knees into the bed. “Please,” they beg, and you fall, your body limp and heavy on the bed. 

As quick as it started, it ends just as quick. You’re left sobbing, gasping for breath, and despite the pain, and tearing open the wound, you hug yourself, your nails scratching against the cloth. They’ve placed it far too tight for you. 

-

Only a few weeks pass when you’re finally cognitive. When your head isn’t splitting at every noise, and you can move somewhat without risking any pain or even your fear of opening the wounds back open. You stay as still as possible, and try not to do any sudden movement that would stretch your back. Lucifer has attempted to reassure you that you’re fine now, that combined with Hell’s magic and his own blessing, you should be fit to move around. Of course, you will be sore, that can only go away with time. 

“You’ll be left with scars. That can’t be helped,” he told you, his eyes focused on how your hands fist the blanket, “but you’ll be okay.” He gives you a tender smile, and you cling to it in the night.

Once you were in a proper headspace, you knew you shouldn’t have been surprised to know that it was him taking care of you. From what you can faintly recall in one of the many conversations that he’s had in the room as you recovered, he knows what it’s like to be cast out. 

However, you are surprised at how caring and patient he is. That despite you being able to do most things on your own without stumbling, he is still beside you, keeping you company and comforting you when he has to change the bandages. He hardly lets anyone else do it after you complained about doctors accidentally wrapping the bandages too tight. His gentleness is a mask for his pity, and he can never meet your eyes without looking away. 

-

You’re laid on your stomach, and your only entertainment is wondering what could be inside the bedside drawers. While moving does not cause as much discomfort as it once did, you don’t risk stretching. You sit straight, and you look at the wall, and dare not to stretch your arms. Pillows have been fluffed and placed to create a soft barrier between you and the headboard of the bed. Knuckles rap against the door in a rhythm, and you stare at the wall in front of you. You wait for a second, and with a breath, you allow for the person to enter. 

“Hello,” Lucifer calls. “I’ve brought you some fruit. I’m sure that you must have been feeling peckish.” You give no reply. “I uh- I also brought some books.” The bowl of fruit is balanced above the small stack of books. “I was thinking that I’ll get you a television or something soon. But maybe some literature would be good for you.” He rests the tower on the dresser, and grabs the bowl between his hands. 

You should reply to him. You should tell him thank you- not just for the books and the bowl of fruit, but for housing you, for caring for you. But you cannot. Not when he’s a constant reminder of where you are. 

“I was wondering if there was any type of genre that you might like.” He sounds hopeful, wanting to continue a conversation with the husk in front of him. “It would be no trouble to get them to you.” 

His smile is stretched thin, and it looks painful. All of this is painful. Your eyes flitter over to the fruit bowl, and you wonder how you’d feed yourself when stretching your arms still pulls at the scars. 

“Would you like some?” He leans towards you, and you have the mental image of being some hurt bird being nursed back to health. “I had some demons go over to Earth and get some for you. I thought you’d prefer this over the food that we have here. Since you aren’t accustomed to Hell’s food, yet.” You stay silent, and after a moment he sighs. His heels click against the floor, and the bowl is placed on your lap. “You know,” he starts, “it would help if you talked. I know what you’re going through, and you can’t- you shouldn’t isolate yourself.” When you refuse to answer, he sighs. “Well, if you need something, just let me know.”

Despite not wanting to be here, of not having any need to want to continue your existence, you have grown a strong dislike of being alone in this room. You have no idea if he’s isolating for your own safety, or for some other nefarious reason. He clasps the door knob around his hand, and twists it. You wet your lips, and you need someone to talk to. 

“Lucifer?” You croak out, and you surprise yourself with your voice. You hadn’t heard it in so long, past the screaming and the tears. He turns to you, taking a step closer, and his hand returns the door knob to its closed position. “Can you stay?” You feel sick looking at the fruit. “Please?”

With a gentle smile, he nods his head. “Of course.” He grabs a chain from the corner of the room and carries it to sit beside you. It’s a deep wooden color, intricate designs carved into the legs of the chair, and a deep red cushion that is stitched into the seat and the back. 

The silence between the two of you is broken by the crunch of the fruit. You pierce a grape with the silver tines of the fork, and your body aches with the movement to bring it up to your mouth. The sweet juice does nothing to aide in your brooding and the awkward silence. 

He’s right, and you know that. You have to try. He’s the only contact that you have. Adam always hated how you’d hide your emotions, how you rather shut the world off, and at least that hasn’t changed since your falling. You need to talk to him. You can see the attempt that Lucifer has been making in order to keep you happy, to make your time here just a bit more bearable. You suck in your lower lip, and let your tongue brush over where your teeth have grazed.

“I was promised a trial,” you start. His eyes are on you, and you see him fiddle with his tie. “They promised it would have been fair.” You frown, and shake your head, an ache heavy in your chest. “I was so hopeful that it would have been.” The fruit is bitter on your tongue and you force yourself to swallow it.

After a moment’s silence, he speaks. “Who would have been the judge?”

The apple is pierced between your teeth, the skin ripping from the flesh of the apple. It was cute with care, no hint of the core tarnishing the fruit, ripe and perfect, only to be mauled by your teeth. “Father.” You swallow the fruit. “Or perhaps one of the Virtues.” Oranges are peeled, torn apart from the other slices, the piths of white removed. “I was worried that I would have fallen, even before I was given my verdict. My-” you look at Lucifer, and you remember who he has stolen- “I feared that I would have fallen, because I didn't matter. No one questions Heaven’s beliefs, not since-” you glance at him, and he turns his head- “I was sure I would have met the same fate.” The sweetness of the strawberries make your jaw tingle and ache. “And I did.”

“I’m sorry.” You hold the fork tightly, the silver pressing into the flesh of your palms. “The fear you had must have been,” he pauses, “intense.”

There is no one better who understands, other than Lucifer himself. You nod, and let the fork ding against the glass of the bowl. “I was good. I did what was needed of me, I didn’t dare speak out of turn.” You think of how Adam would run his mouth, how every other word would be a curse, would be of anything lewd. “Perhaps I wasn’t as good as I thought I was. Not if a question were enough to have me expelled from Heaven.” 

A gloved hand reaches, and falls just before your thigh. A gold band hugs at his finger, and you’re surprised to have yet seen his wife. Feeling your stare, he turns his hand, and lets the other fingers hide the symbol of matrimony. 

“Sometimes, that’s all it takes,” he says quietly, his tone soft, and wistful. “But, if it makes you feel any better, Hell has some redeeming qualities. It’s not all pain and suffering.” You look at him, and he gives you a smile. “We have an amusement park. There’s a uh-” he scratches the back of his neck, his gaze pointed elsewhere and checks flushing- “ride modeled after me.”

The corners of your lips turn, and you narrow your eyes at him. “After you?” You ask, an elfish tinge laced into your words.

“Shaped like my head.” A finger makes a circle in front of his face.

You scoff out a laugh, and the sound surprises you. You attempt to hide the smile, but when the corners still turn upwards, you look at your lap. “You are the Avatar of Pride after all,” you tell him, the lilt faint on your words.

“It’s actually very impressive,” he points out. “A whole ride dedicated to my likeness.”

“The line for it must be awful.” The juice of the fruit is thin on your tongue. “Heaven has zoos. There’s an area where you get to feed the birds out of the palm of your hand.” You push the fork upwards with the knuckle of your index. “They hardly ever peck your palm, but when they do, we call them kisses from one of Father’s creations.”

He snorts, and shakes his head. His smile is soft, and there's a lingering sadness to it before it falls. “Down in the Wrath ring, there are livestock shows where you’ll find horse bucking and catching the flamed greased pig.” You give him a look, and he smiles. “It’s not as nice as the zoo, I’m sure, but it’s just as entertaining.” He leans back on his chair. “Sometimes I would take my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” You knew of his wife, but you hadn’t realized that they had a child. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

He winces, and nods sheepishly. “Charlie,” he tells you her name. “I think you’d like her- she’s peppy.” He gives you a tense smile, and looks away. “We don’t talk as much as we used to.”

You frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shakes his head, and lets out a sigh. He sits straighter, and pulls his shoulders back. “How are the bandages?” You roll your ankles, unsure what to make of the sudden shift in conversation. “They’re not too tight are they?” It’s not your place to pry, and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable when he’s the one caring for you.

“No, Lucifer,” you answer. “They’re fine. Thank you.”

He nods, and you can tell he’s grown uncomfortable now. You don’t blame him. “Of course. I wanted to make sure that you were comfortable. As much as possible.” 

A silence befalls between the two of you. You bite into the fruit, and force yourself to swallow it. The nectar is sweet and makes your jaw ache. Beside you, Lucifer clears his throat, and you turn to him.He looks away, his eyes trained on the walls.

“If I may ask, I- Well you see, you know my name-” he looks at you again, and you tap your nails against the glass- “and I don’t know yours.” Your eyes widen, and you try to think back on when you might have whispered your name to him, but you can’t recall it. “I just- I was thinking since you’re here, and I’ve changed your bandages, I thought, that I should be calling you by your name.”

“My name?” You whisper, and you feel silly for keeping it close to you. For just a fraction of a second, for some far away thought to be held, that you didn’t want to share the last thing that ties you to Heaven.

“If only that’s okay. If not, we can come up with a nickname or something.”

You shake your head. You’ve kept your name to yourself, and you wonder if your pain-induced haze, if he’s ever asked you for it. You stretch your lips, and wet your tongue. “Did you ever ask for it,” you hold the words on your tongue, and they are heavy like wine, “when I was in and out?”

“Yes,” he confesses. “You wouldn’t answer.”

A name given by Heaven; whispered to you gently in the arms of Father, as sunlight shined down upon you and warmth surrounded you in your creation. It’s silly, and childish to cling to it, to hold onto it like a child holds onto their blanket, but it’s all that you have left. Everything else was stripped from you, taken and tossed aside, and you wonder if your name even holds any significance back home. 

You turn to Lucifer, and your name is heavy on your tongue, bitter like wine, and it’s your name, fitting you like a glove that will fit no other. 

Lucifer repeats your name, whispering it under his breath, tasting it between his canines and tongue, and you watch him. Chills run down your spine, and the feeling is not unpleasant. He catches your eyes, and his cheeks flush, the red spots darkening, under your gaze. He calls your name once more, louder and clearer, want held between the vowels, as if to savor your name, to savor what you’ve given to him. 

You nod, your chest aflame, as if you’ve done something scandalous. You can’t trust your voice, not when he's looking at you. Your knuckles feel as if it’s on pins, tingling and having you scratch against the bowl. 

He glances at your lap. “Are you done?” 

“Yes,” you breathe out rather quickly. 

He reaches for the bowl, grabbing it by the rim and stands from his chair. You watch in silence as he pushes the chair back, letting it block one of the drawers from the nightstand. The bowl clinks against the mahogany of the dresser, and he grabs the books, flush against his chest. 

“I hadn’t meant to leave the books so far from you,” he says, placing them on the nightstand. “They’ll be closer within your reach.” You nod, and peek over, reading the title of the first book. “I’ll be back in a few hours, if you need anything, feel free to call out. I’ll make sure to hear it.”

He walks away, his heels clicking against the floor, and you don’t want to be alone anymore. “Lucifer,” you call out, fisting the blankets in your hand. He turns around, pressing the bowl against his body, his hand wrapped tight around the doorknob, already opening it and stepping into the rest of his domain. You swallow nothing, and try not to think of anything other than gratitude.  “Thank you for everything,” you tell him, sending him a thinned smile. 

“Of course,” he calls your name in a sweet tone. “Whatever you need, just let me know.”

The door closes shut, and you let out a breath. Your hands fist at your shirt, grasping and you bite the inner corners of your lips, feeling the soft flesh of it be pierced by your teeth. It’s been far too long since you’ve had a gentle hand, since you’ve had someone be gentle with you. A hand reaches out and scratches along your bicep, pulling the skin and leaving soft arches across. 

You hadn’t realized how much you would miss Adam.

[theeio]

If u have the time could you pls give us ur jim analysis based on this post im very interested in hearing it

headsup for some heavy mental health talk:

so my interpretation of jim, and the reason why i drew him the angsty way i did was because i looked at his character in ToA from like, a mental illness metaphor perspective. i dont think(?) it was ever the showrunner’s intention to do that, but its just a personal way i viewed it bc i saw and felt a lot of his struggles between the lines of the series.

like in episode 6: Win Lose or Draal- where Jim thinks hes going to get killed in battle, writes letters to his loved ones, cooks a last meal for his mom, felt and acted like was the last day he was going to live. Claire interpreting his letter to her that he was talking about having “internal monsters” and “being in some kind of trouble” didnt help much as well AHAH

jim hiding so much from his mom, that one shot in season 1 episode 12 or 13 where he hides the damage on his arms from the goblins behind his back-AHHHHH

and dont get me started on the bathtub scene in A House Divided like idk what the showrunners were thinking doing that but okay i guess😭 that one made me sob on the floor like TWICE

and Jimhunters-god that really felt like your life being altered, and seeing everything in a much darker lens when going through depression. the first time i watched it and when Jim ran to the school rooftop i was legitimately horrified and scared out of my MIND but thank god they didn’t go much beyond that. STILL. thanks for the heart attack 😭😭😭

so back to the tags on that post:

i never liked a hero w a thousand faces because of how chaotic and exaggerated everything was but i guess its because it was different parts of jim split and personified.

but i guess it just messed me up seeing that episode again and having Hunter Jim, the highest functioning one out of them all being the one hunting HIMSELF DOWN, one by one. it really felt like a lot of self loathing going on, and he literally was looking to “kill” other parts of himself, and then the Real Jim as a whole. sorry that was jumbled up and a lot but it was what made me go like

thats kinda the gist of how i saw some moments of Jim’s character back then, and i guess it explains why so much of my art leans towards angst and that hurt comfort, because of all those interpretations i had going on in my head. it was rough a couple years back and this series helped me to reflect and process a lot of what happened and the feelings i had, through Jim. it was a like a safe little sandbox i could toss around in and it genuinely helped so much in healing :”D!! so yeah its more of a personal take, but hope this answers ur question?

ty for sending this ask!! hope you’re well💖💖💖

[moonsaver]

Wahh I'm back haha, don't worry about messing up the request it happens! I still loved it the other way around!

Im so sorry anon, im delirious from lack of sleep and didnt read your request right. I hope this will be okay, <33

--

Sunday is usually busy, so when on this specific day, when you insist on meeting up with him in the middle of his schedule, he's a bit irked.

He imagines its most likely something important, or you needed something that only he could provide (which could only be done in private, behind doors).

So he's very sure to clear out people from the vicinity of his office, telling them he'll be alright and hastily shoo-ing them away in the most professional manner.

And then.. you show up, with a cheeky grin and a heart-shaped box. Curious.

And you set down the chocolate on his desk, almost humorously contrasting to his very well kept desk. You explain Valentine's to him and he understands, mainly because it's a bit of his duty to keep tabs on festivities, even of other planets.

And he offers you to sit down, asks you about it in more detail, while curiously scanning the box. He doesn't realise you made it yourself until you drop it in the middle of conversation, and he stays still for a moment, deep in thought, before a loving smile breaks out on his face.

Sunday appreciates any effort from you so much. He knows he's not exactly easy to love, especially because you have to do it from a distance most of the time. So he appreciates it so so much. He's already thinking of all the ways he wants to pay you back – not because he sees it as a transaction, but rather he wants to let you know he sees your efforts and wants to return them, too.

Lovingly guides you to sit you down beside him, and feeds you a piece of chocolate first, and then eats it himself. Very neatly picks it up, careful to make sure it doesnt melt on his gloves, and it doesn't get on your face. Wipes off any excess bits on your face and compliments the flavors, tells you about how popular they are, flavors that are particularly favored from certain worlds, and all sorts of things. He wraps up the box neatly and insists you wait for a bit outside his office, tenderly kissing your forehead.

After a few moments of quiet shuffling, his door clicks open, as he gives you a very beautifully sealed letter. He says it was supposed to be for another occasion, and he had to rush the writing a bit at the end, but most of it was completed, and stamped perfectly. The letter is about 3 pages long, and full of well-wishes, and feelings Sunday probably wouldn't be able to tell you directly face to face. He kisses your hand and tells you he'll make some time for you another day, and make up for the time he couldn't spend today.

He listens to your quiet footsteps shuffle down the hallway, further away from his office, and once he's sure you're gone, he sighs, sitting down in his office chair. He sits deeply in thought, and anyone walking in would have thought he was in deep trouble, trying to find a solution for an extremely multifaceted and complex issue.. when really, he's thinking about just how dangerously he's wrapped around your finger. Perhaps he prefers it that way?

[paigesbasketball]

Under Oath

Chapter 3: Beneath the bruise of a laugh. Paige x Black OC

The past doesn’t stay buried—it lingers, festering in quiet corners until it finds a way to seep back into the present. As I left my sister’s office, the memories started clawing their way out of the recesses of my mind, one by one. I couldn’t help but think back to the moment everything between her and Paige shifted. It wasn’t just a prank. It was the prank.

It was sophomore year for Paige, senior year for my sister. The two of them were polar opposites—Paige, the loud and confident jokester who could charm anyone into laughing at her antics, and my sister, the serious and ambitious team captain who barely had time for anyone’s nonsense. But beneath all the differences, there had been… something.

I remember the way my sister used to talk about Paige when she thought no one was listening. She never admitted it outright, but there was a certain tone in her voice when Paige’s name came up, a certain light in her eyes when Paige walked into the room.

And then came the letter.

It showed up in my sister’s locker one afternoon, folded neatly, with her name scrawled across the front. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she opened it—confusion, then shock, then something softer, almost hopeful.

Inside, the letter read:

Hey, I don’t know how else to say this, so here it goes. I like you. I’ve liked you for a while, actually. You’re amazing—not just as a captain, but as a person. I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I had to tell you.

- Paige

My sister was stunned. For once, she didn’t know what to say or do. I found her that evening in her room, staring at the letter like it was a puzzle she couldn’t figure out.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

She shook her head, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean… I never thought she’d…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

For the next few days, she agonized over how to respond. She rehearsed conversations in the mirror, wrote and rewrote replies, and even asked me what I thought—something she never did. It was clear she liked Paige too, though she’d never outright say it.

Finally, she decided to confront Paige after practice. I wasn’t there to see it, but I heard about it afterward, and it wasn’t what she had expected.

Paige had laughed.

“Wait, what?” Paige had said, holding up her hands. “You think I wrote that? Oh, no, no, no. That wasn’t me.”

My sister froze, her heart plummeting. “You didn’t write this?” she asked, holding up the letter.

“No,” Paige said, shaking her head. “But that’s hilarious! Who did?” She laughed again, oblivious to the hurt on my sister’s face.

It didn’t take long for the truth to come out. One of the younger teammates had written the letter as a joke, thinking it would be funny to mess with my sister. They hadn’t expected her to take it seriously—or for it to matter so much. When Paige found out, she shrugged it off, calling it “just a prank.”

But for my sister, it wasn’t just a prank. It was humiliation. It was heartbreak. It was the cruel realization that her feelings had been played with, not just by some thoughtless teammate, but by Paige herself—even if unintentionally.

From that moment on, my sister’s attitude toward Paige shifted. The light in her eyes when Paige entered the room was gone, replaced by a coldness that only grew over time. She kept her distance, avoided conversations, and focused all her energy on being the perfect captain. Paige, oblivious to the depth of the wound, continued to joke and laugh, unknowingly driving the wedge deeper. What paige didnt know it that it led her to being laughed at every turn she took slowly and surely breaking down her confidence and her love for the game as well. Over the next basketball games my sister…well she didnt preform the way she wanted to leaving her to be cut from the team the following year. It might not have hurt as bad as it did if paige didnt become the new team captain. Her hatred grew more. She made me block paige on everything, saying “if i was a good sister i would do this for her” she was hostile towards me a little but i didnt think anything of it as we were sisters this is what sisters did… grow apart over time (not like she is keeping something from me)

Now, years later, as I sat in my car outside her office, the pieces of their fractured relationship started to fall into place. The bitterness in my sister’s voice whenever she mentioned Paige, the subtle tension in the air whenever their names were said in the same sentence—it all made sense.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. It was Paige.

“Hey,” she said when I answered, her voice casual. “What’s up?”

“We need to talk,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

She hesitated. “This about your sister?”

“Yeah. And the letter.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a sigh. “You’re still hung up on that? That was forever ago.”

“It wasn’t just a joke to her, Paige,” I said, trying to keep my frustration in check. “You hurt her more than you realize.”

Another pause, this one longer. Finally, Paige said, “Fine. Meet me at the café on 5th. We’ll talk.”

As I hung up, I couldn’t help but wonder if Paige truly understood the damage she’d done—or if she was about to dismiss it all over again. Either way, I needed answers.

The café on 5th was quiet, the warm glow of pendant lights casting long shadows on the wooden tables. Paige was already there when I arrived, leaning back in her chair with a cup of coffee in her hand. She looked up when I walked in, her usual smirk firmly in place, but there was something off about it. Forced, maybe. Nervous.

I slid into the chair across from her, my arms crossed. “Start talking,” I said without preamble.

She raised an eyebrow. “No small talk? Not even a ‘hi’?”

“Not in the mood, Paige.”

She sighed, setting her coffee down. “Alright, fine. You want to talk about the letter. Let’s talk.”

“You think this is funny?” I snapped. “Because it wasn’t funny to her. That letter wasn’t just some prank, Paige. It was cruel. It messed her up.”

Paige blinked, surprised by the heat in my voice. “Look, I didn’t write it. I’ve said that a thousand times. I didn’t even know she liked me—”

“She didn’t,” I cut in, leaning forward. “Not at first. But that letter made her think maybe you did. And when she worked up the nerve to tell you how she felt, you laughed in her face.”

Paige groaned, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I didn’t know it was that serious. I thought she’d realize it was a joke and we’d move on.”

“But you didn’t move on,” I said, my voice low. “You let her believe you didn’t care. And now, years later, she still hates you for it.”

Paige was quiet for a long moment, staring into her coffee like it held the answers. Finally, she looked up at me, her eyes softer than I’d ever seen them. “You think I wanted her to hate me?” she asked quietly. “You think I don’t regret it?”

“If you regret it so much, why didn’t you ever apologize?”

She hesitated, her fingers tapping against the table. “Because it wasn’t just about the letter,” she admitted. “It was everything. She never liked me—not really. I was the loud, annoying sophomore, and she was the perfect captain. Even before the letter, she looked at me like I was a joke.”

“She didn’t think you were a joke,” I said, my voice softening despite myself.

Paige laughed bitterly. “Yeah, sure. Look, I tried to brush it off because it was easier than admitting that I… that I…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

“That you what?” I pressed.

She looked up at me then, her gaze steady but vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before. “That I had a crush on you.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What?” 

A faint blush crept up my cheeks, although I felt like it shouldn’t have. I shook it off as fast as it came.

Paige’s lips curled into a smirk. “Was that a blush, pretty?” she teased.

I straightened immediately, brushing off the heat rising in my cheeks. “Not in a million years, Bueckers. Now let’s talk business.”

I was supposed to hate Paige. My sister told me I had to. No—I did.

The blush? It was embarrassment. Nothing more. Nothing could or would happen between us.

[nthspecialll]

how do you feel about mr pearson being a rat theory? i watched a youtube video about it and while i genuinely dont think rockstar made pearson a rat or even intended he be relevant in conversations about the rat, i still found it super interesting and almost convincing if i didnt already know it was micah!

I read up on it and there are some interesting points, but most of it is very circumstancial.

The main points are:

The name Aunt Cathy that he wrote a letter to being similar to Catherine Brathewaite.

Jack going missing so easily

Pearson leaving the camp and not staying.

Pearson being able to afford a shop in the epilouge.

Pearson asking for John's location and in the cut scenes of the credits you see the agents by Rhodes and then by Beecher's Hope.

I think the Aunt Cathy/Catherine is so circumstancial that it is stupid, it raises more questions that cannot be answered than it solves. Liek how did he know her before? Did he know Jack was going to get kidnapped? What is the letter code for? What does it say?

Jack going missing so easily. The video I saw by Waxy said it was so weird Jack could go missing from a small group of outlaws and suggested that Pearson might have somehow done something? But then again we literally have Kieran's testemory of what happened because he saw it.

Kieran does not leave camp, he hangs around the edge but he still sticks close so he can be seen, the fact he saw what happened means that the perpetrators was fairly close to camp and could draw Jack's attention to them while everyone else were focused on Bill and Micah coming running into camp with Sean's dead body.

Kieran also identifies the Braithewaite boys, although I don't know how he knows what they look like, he must have had some reason for thinking it was them and he was right. He thought they were just there for business so they must have acted fairly casually.

Now when it comes to Pearson leaving, the man is literally sobbing and crying in fear, he isn't a fighter, he is a cook, and he ain't the only one that left. Using him leaving as evidence is kind of silly seeing as so many others leaves as well.

As for the shop, it has been eight years and he has been through two wives, in the same timespan Tilly got married and pregnant, Mary-Beth became a bestselling author, Charles was between Canada and USA at least once, Sadie became a fairly known bounty hunter so on and so forth. Eight years is a long time, a lot can happen.

Now to the last bit, Pearson had a picture of the gang with John on it hanging on his wall and he did know John's exact location and could have told because he was scared of being hurt, but there are also a trillion other ways the Pinkerton's could have found John. They could have tracked him from his bank account, they could have tracked him from Strawberry where he made a mess, a random civillian could have ID'ed him or Pearson "ratted" of course, they are all equally possible but I think even if Pearson did tell the Pinkerton John's location, I wouldn't call him a rat.

The Pinkerton's would have found John either way, and the timing of them finding him does not really matter, they gonna wait until 1911 either way, it would have been the exact same result.

[alaydabug2]

@myfairkatiecat Ik I said I didn't post on tumblr....BUT I DO NOW

Ok so to go more in depth of the theory about Keefe's mind shattering

Here you can see the different ways people can shatter

"But some turn erratic and reckless."

SHANNON

Who does that sound like to you

Furthermore, Keefe didn't really start becoming reckless until he found out about his mom

Yeah sure he ditched class and was a trouble maker, but he never really did anything to crazy until his mom

In neverseen alone he covered his room in paper scraps, took fathomlethes (which I believe are an elf version of drugs, but that's for another time to deep dive), tried to run off to ravagog on his own, and ran away to the neverseen

That's not even a book finding out about his mother

I also believe that his minds is slowly shattering bit by bit like Alden and has come extremely close several times

Also in neverseen when he had to be sedated for 24 hours because he was in shock and kept replaying the recovered memory over and over, when in legacy his mom got away and he was shaking and yelling

There's probably more too but I can't think of it rn

I also think what will be the last straw

I think he actually killed Ethan Benedict Wright II and his daughter (sorry if the next bit sounds weird this was copy and pasted from my YouTube 😭)

Ok so

Keefe has been going numb in stellarlune

We're all aware of that

He's not acting himself

Going numb

Abilities not working

Just overall worrying behavior

AND Shannon said some major information is going to be unveiled in unraveled

Well Well Well

I've come up with something

What if Keefe DID actually kill Ethan and his daughter

Hear me out

Shannon said that she was going to try and fit the information in unraveled into stellarlune

But it didn't work out

Then in try for book 10

But didnt fit

Well in stellarlune we know the 2 humans WERE actually brought up

Could that have been Shannon trying to write in the information about them but didn't work?

But you're probably wondering how this means Keefe killed them

Stick with me

Almost there

Keefes memory of him delivering the letter was SHATTERED

Not washed

Shattered

That was the only memory (as of known so far) to be shattered

The rest got washed

Why go out of your way to shatter THAT specific memory when the others were washed

Like the one with Gisela was on the roof with Alvar

That wasn't anything he needed to remember later

But why treat it different

Also

Gisela was talking like Keefe had something to do with their death

(Could've been manipulation tactic and it probably was but still)

Keefe had also visited their graves and asked about them

Confirmed stuff about them WILL be in unraveled

He wasn't acting himself in stellarlune

Yes he wasn't acting himself in unlocked either

And also yes he's been going numb and that absolutely will contribute to that

But idk

It just seems like there's more to it than JUST that

And THAT would definitely mess someone up

AND I'm already pretty sure his mind will shatter in book ten

So that could be the tipping point for it to do so

AND Shannon said this is game changing news

That definitely would be COMPLETELY plot changing and everything

And it would make sense why we'd need to see this revelation through his pov rather than in Sophie's just being told

Even if Keefe didn't kill them himself

But more so he had a more direct role in their murders than previously thought

So what do yall think of this

[pcheyes]

since you are looking for requests, how about something valentines related with eunseok or seunghan? they're so valentine coded to me

ahh they are !!!

lovestruck

pairing: eunseok x fem reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers,

warnings: eunseok is hopelessly in love

synopsis: your science partner just couldn’t get you out of his head, so he finally decides to do something about it

word count: 552 words

song suggestions: weak for your love-thee sacred souls

eunseok couldnt believe it.

how could you, of all people turn him into a stuttering mess? he hasnt had a crush since 7th grade, and Emily Pritchett sure had a lot to say about him. he was one of the tallest boys in the school but somehow whenever he was around you he shrunk his figure and his voice. 

you had only been paired up for a science project a few months ago, so how could everything change so fast?

maybe it was how caring you are.

immediately when you sat down next to him you introduced yourself, as if the whole school didnt know who you are. you were on the dance team, and their most flexible dancer, which won you guys multiple awards. you split up the work evenly and got to work. you pulled out your airpods and saw eunseok was just working on his own, a crimson hue already gracing his cheeks. you offer to him your other airpod and from then on every day you would listen to music. together.

after that project, he became infatuated with you. your looks, your kindness, your humor, everything.

so he decided to confess to you, on valentines day. (or  his friends would tell you for him)

he found out through some friends that you absolutely adore baked goods, so he baked you some macarons.

he planned to give you the macarons and a love letter along with it, during your lunch period. he walked over to your table and he tapped your shoulder.

 “can we talk?” 

you smile up at him “sure eunseok!”

you both walk out the cafeteria and eunseok leads you to a hallway. the hallway that happens to house the science class where you two were partnered up. 

“so uh, i baked you some macaroons, but its ok if you dont eat them, i kept having to make new batches. macaroons are really hard to make but i pulled through for you- i mean because-“ 

“actually i’m allergic to macaroons eunseok”

his face drops as he struggles to stuff the tin container filled with macaroons in his bag. “oh god sorry, i didnt know, but they’re crappy anyways, you deserve much better, I MEAN-“ 

suddenly he hears you laugh.

“eunseok i was kidding silly, i love macaroons, what flavour are they?”

“uh its a mix of strawberry velvet- shit i mean red velvet and strawberry’s” he hands you the tin with the love note in it. “i hope you enjoy them, i had my little brother taste them and he kept fake gagging, why am i telling you this.”

you take the tin and shuffle your feet. “anything else you wanna tell me?”

“actually yes” 

he takes a deep breath

“i’ve liked you for a long time now. you’re always so sweet to everyone and your humor is top tier, and you’re really pretty, and your voice is so soothing wait thats kinda weird. what i’m trying to say is i like you. a lot and i know its asking a lot for you to like me back but-“

he’s cut off by the tender kiss you leave him on his cheek. you wrap your arms around his neck.

“i’ve liked you for a long time silly, so, so much”

“i’m glad, i really like you too.”

authors note: literally i was cooking and then towards the end my brain gave out lmao, but hope you like it anon !!