#See I never did any kind of martial arts

[ailithnight]

I... actually didn't know there were different degrees of black belt. Like, i don't think that ever fully registered in my head as a thing. I probably heard it referenced in the show and my mind just glossed over it.

Btw no one asked but most people (like the Danny Phantom show writers) don't actually know what a ninth degree black belt is.

There are only like two hundred people in the world with a ninth degree black belt in anything and it requires 'dedicated your entire life to it' levels of experience. Most of the time, you'll not only have spent time teaching it, but also will own a martial arts school.

It's also important to note that the exact requirements differ for different disciplines, and advanced black belts require a dedicated understanding of that discipline's philosophy.

The idea that Valerie is a ninth degree black belt is stupid (sorry Valerie) because of the precise experience requirements, which are measured in years (not competence), and even the idea that Maddie is one is pretty questionable. Valerie would be a third degree at most, while Maddie would maybe be a fifth or sixth.

The character implications for both of them, however, are pretty fun! It takes dedication and discipline, and it implies that martial arts was a huge part of both their lives even before ghost hunting was. For Maddie in particular, it implies that actively practicing martial arts was once as big a part of her life as science was - though I imagine having kids dropped it down the priority list.

Anyway. I don't care that it's canon. Neither of them is a ninth degree black belt, and martial arts is a much bigger part of their lives than is usually assumed.

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

Standing in the yard, dressed like a kid, the house is white and the lawn is dead ⋆·˚ ༘ *

You stood firm on the ground, eyes stern and unwavering. In front of you was a place all too familiar—the "shelter" where you grew up, the house that had been your home for five years of your childhood. As you stood there, memories flooded your mind, both the happy ones and the melancholy ones. Your eyes roamed around the place, taking in every detail before you finally decided to enter, lest anyone mistake you for some kind of lunatic loitering outside someone's house.

As your feet mindlessly carried you into the room, a heavy, shaky sigh escaped your quivering lips. It hadn't even been five seconds since you entered, yet you already felt the urge to cry. Oh well, that's what memories do to you. You gently caressed the dirty white wall adorned with your old, fading doodles. Most of them were pink—your favorite color then and even now as an adult. You smiled sadly as the memories of your time in the house flooded back, making you nostalgic. You scoffed sarcastically at the irony that you missed this place more than the manor where you'd spent a longer time.

Perhaps it was because the old you—the innocent, sweet, and pure one—was still within these thin walls that had sheltered them through all the bad times. You could feel their giggles and laughter lingering in the air. Tears streamed down your face as you stared at every sticker, doodle, and writing spread across the walls. Somehow, you cried out of joy, relishing the fact that the child you left behind in this house was still here in some way. Still innocent, still unaware of the harm the world could do.

In the manor, all the love you ever knew came from the man who introduced himself as the family butler but whom you soon came to know as your father. He was the love you craved and begged for at Bruce's feet. He fed you, took care of you, and taught you the things you needed to know. He attended family days, PTA meetings, and other events that your biological father should have been at. Under Alfred's shelter, you did everything you could to try to level with your siblings' talents—learning acrobatics, martial arts, drawing, baking, and more.

Yet it was Alfred who, in the dead of night, under the whispers of the cold wind whipping past your teary face, assured you that you would never need any of those skills to truly earn your family's love. All you needed was to be yourself. You allowed yourself to believe his words and lived them as your truth for a short time, but soon gave up on the idea, accepting that they wouldn't truly see you.

Now, dwelling on your lingering past and memories outside the manor, you remembered those you knew before coming to live with them. You reminisced on the thought of your mother. You remembered her.

You remembered how poverty ate your mother away and that she couldn't provide necessary needs for you but you, sweet, beautiful, angel you never complained.

You remembered how much you loved those barbie shows and movies but couldn't afford the dvds and even a proper functioning television so you sometimes watched it from your window across your neighbors, and while watching you saw a glimpse of their life. Their happy, perfect family life. How they cuddled their daughter and watched those silly barbie movies together. Your eyes softened as you thought "I wanted that" the little you hoped that maybe one day momma will get better and finally love me. Your tears poured from your eyes at the thought.

You remembered while you were doing your homework alone, you heard a whimper outside your window near the alley. As you peeked your tiny head outside, your braids flowing with the cold, harsh wind, your eyes searching for the source of noise. As you let your gaze travel through every corner of the alley, you saw a dirty, poor puppy whimpering, alone, calling out for its mother, its father, anyone. You ran hastily outside and collected its tiny and fragile form gently in your arms. "I'm here, I'm okay, you're safe," you whispered softly to the creature. And from. That very day you fed it and kept it sheltered secretly from your mother. You named her Amara. It suited her. You didn't have much play mates so you sometimes play with her by the yard where you and her would either run together or lay down. You never really got to say goodbye to her. From "that" moment on, you never got to go back to your house. You wondered how she was. Was she well fed? Did she think you abandoned her? Does she miss you? The guilt of living her ate you up the longer you dwelt on the past. You shook your head and sighed, trying to forget about all of it. You mourned every version of you. And this was your most treasured one. Thinking back on all the memories you had of the old you, of her. You thanked them for being so forgiving, for being so brave, for being so content with what she had, and for never trading anything for it.

They Were such a kind soul. And you're glad that they gets to stay where they were the happiest despite the nightmare they endured those days. You will always look up to them. They were and will always be a part of you. You took one last look at the house, the drawings, the dirty corners of the room, and released a breath as you closed your eyes. This was it. You'll finally get to say goodbye-

Whimper

You froze as you heard a familiar whimper. You turned around and slowly walked towards the opened door, and you saw her. Amara, your friend. You can't help but let the tears fall as her once brown fluffy appearance is now old and grey. You wondered how even in the light of old age she somehow still seems so youthful. She was still your baby. With a shaky voice, you tested the name. "Amara...?" she wags her tail in delight as a response to the familiar name she's been waiting to be called for so many years. You kneeled down and gently caressed her. "Oh, baby. You've been waiting for me, haven't you?" she whimpered as if answering you. You noticed her trying to catch her breath and her body growing weaker. You glance at her tail and see its wagging has become more frail and slow. You glance at your eyes, and you know. You smiled at her and whispered, "It's okay, baby. You can rest now." Her face weakly lit up, and she slowly closed her eyes, calm and loved, finally in your embrace.

After some time, you tenderly wrapped her body in a blanket. You carried her to the yard where you both used to play together as kids, a place where you ran freely without a care in the world. Borrowing a shovel from a tenant in the apartment, you buried her there, in the spot where you both were the happiest.

You whispered silent prayers for your companion and left with the memories. This was it. You've made your peace with the old you. Almost. There was one more thing you have to do.

You used believed that your mother could have been so much more. She was a beautiful woman. Smart, even if other would beg to disagree. But, you knew that she knew how to play her cards right to get what she desired for. She would have been so powerful if she used her sharp mind to something much more.. Productive. Yet she chose to sleep with men, abandon her daughter, and let herself be eaten by poverty and lust. Well, you didn't really mind if she abandoned you. You've always felt like you were the burden, the barrier to her way of succeeding and the chain locked onto her feet, keeping her from truly running away to what she has become. You've seen it in her eyes, the thought of running away and living a new life, but when she looks at you.. She saw a mistake she could never be freed of. A mistake. If only you weren't born, she would have been so happy.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink. "Ma'am?" the nurse asked. Suddenly, you were back to reality. You blinked again, processing her words. You glanced at her expectant expression and blurted out, "Y-yes, yes, uhm. Yeah. I'm ready." She smiled and said, "Great. Let's go this way, ma'am." You followed her hurriedly, not wanting to test her patience. As you walked, dissociating and thinking of all the possible outcomes, the nurse suddenly stopped in front of a room and said, "We're here. You can enter now." You nodded and thanked her silently.

Facing the door, you chanted in your mind, "You can do this," with a mix of determination and uncertainty. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and opened the door. There she was—your mother, in all her glory. Bare-faced and vulnerable in her comfy hospital gown. You almost choked on your saliva, seeing her this... bare. You had always seen her so filtered, her face adorned with colors, her clothes tight and bright. Awkwardly, you shifted in your place and slowly sat beside her bed as her gaze followed your every move. You cleared your throat, preparing to speak, but she beat you to it.

“I know you.” you widen your eyes at her as she continues “you're my child.” you weren't shocked at the fact that she acknowledged you but the fact that she called you Her child, and the softness in her eyes. You were starting to think that maybe this isn't your mother, because she never looked at you like that. Never in years of living together has she even glance at you.

She chuckled at the sight of your confused and shocked state, bringing you out of your thoughts. "What? Shocked? Of course, I still remember you, Y/n," she weakly said, her voice small and quite different from the harsh tone she used to yell at you with. You inhaled sharply, trying to stop your tears from falling. What the heck? Were you about to cry again?

"I thought with how much resentment you harbor for me, you would have forgotten about me by now," you smiled sadly at her, watching her face drop slightly but still smiling weakly.

"Oh, Y/n," you almost crumbled right then and there. Oh, how much you had longed to be called so sweetly by your mother's voice. "I never hated you... that much," she said bitterly, and you stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I just wasn't born to be a mother, no—at least not in this life. I'm a mess and I always will be. And I'm sorry I couldn't change for you because nothing can and nothing will change me anymore."

Your lips frowned at her words. "I always thought that maybe you could have been better without me," you said. You miss her, and you will always miss her. She was your whole world, but now seeing her and talking to her made you realize her world was clearly much different from yours. Her world was something one could not escape. You knew you couldn't live like that, and it seems that she cannot live any other way. They said that a mother and children exist as wretched mirrors of each other. You were all she could have been and she was all you might have been.

She closed the distance between you and embraced you for the first time. "You never were. It was me. I was the problem. You were just a child. In another life, I would've been able to care for you." You didn't question her on why she couldn't do it in this life because you knew. You knew she didn't have the capability to be a good mother and a morally good person now, and that was okay. You couldn't live with The fact that she will never truly care for you and will always hold secret animosity towards you if you force her to be a mother to you. You closed your eyes for a minute and silently took in the feeling of a mother's embrace for the first and last time.

"This is the last time you're ever gonna see me again," you said. Your mother chuckled bitterly and replied, "I know. Good for you, kid. Leave everything behind and start anew. You deserve it."

You soon moved out of her arms and held her hands tightly, looking into her eyes. With a deep exhale, you walked out of the hospital. This was it—you were finally free from your past. You had made your peace with it, and now it was time for you to move forward. You knew that if you didn't confront the horrors of your past, they would haunt you for the rest of your life. You had made a good choice.

As you stepped outside, the cool breeze greeted you, and you felt a sense of liberation wash over you. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It was as if the universe itself was acknowledging your newfound freedom. You took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, savoring the feeling of lightness that now enveloped you. Walking down the street, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. The city seemed different somehow—brighter, more alive. You noticed the little things that you had overlooked before: the vibrant colors of the flowers in the park, the laughter of children playing, the distant hum of traffic. It was as if you were seeing the world with fresh eyes, unburdened by the weight of your past.

For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace. The past no longer held you captive. You were free to live your life, to pursue your passions, and to surround yourself with people who truly cared for you. It was the beginning of a new chapter. You get home to your apartment and sit at your couch grabbing some blankets and making hot cocoa. You thought to yourself that this is what you exactly needed. Watching barbie movies in your new cozy apartment without any burden past onto your shoulders, the little you would have been so proud, making you smile at the thought. This was it. Nothing was going to stop you now.

That's what you thought.

It has been 2 weeks since you've moved in your apartment and you're getting ready for your ballet rehearsal. You were especially excited about this as you were going to perform swan lake when you got to enact one of the most important and famous characters, how cool was that? As you were about to grab your pink bowed pointe shoes a sudden “ping!” notification was heard from your phone. You turned your head and went to grab it expecting a message from one of your close friends or even your ballet mates but all you were met with was a message from a person you least wanted a one from.

Dick. Your supposed older brother is asking you to hang out with him. At this very moment. You dropped your phone and stared at nothing while breathing heavily. You feel your heartbeat rapidly breathing, the knot in your stomach growing more tighter and tighter each minute you let the thought sink into your brain. You almost tripped at your foot as a result of your vision disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish-eye lens. This wasn't right, this wasn't supposed to happen. When-how?-why?! Why was this happening now? You were only starting to feel like everything in your life was finally starting to go your way. Why did this have to happen? It was as if the universe was mocking you. You bit your lips until it bled but you couldn't care less. You were numb. You hadn't even realized that you were nowate for today's rehearsals. With trembling hands you reached for your phone and shakily pressed the button “block” as you silently prayed that he-they would never come in contact with you ever again.

Of Course that wouldn't happen though. The universe was never really on your side.

Dick? What's happening here?

A sudden deep voice spoke, bringing Dick out of his deep trance. He turned around and saw his father standing outside the door, looking suspiciously at him. He stared at his father and saw the look on his face—full of confusion and unfamiliarity, not towards him but the room he was in. "I-it's Y/n," he stuttered, the name tasting so sweet on his tongue. He wanted to roll around in the scent of you. Was that weird? No—he just missed you, that's all.

"What about them?" Bruce's voice carried a nonchalance that almost made Dick angry. How could he be so indifferent about his precious sibling? With a hard voice, Dick replied, "They're gone." Bruce's eyes widened slightly at the response. What did he mean you were gone? You were just here when... Wait, when? He worriedly glanced at Dick, and as if understanding, Dick answered, "I know."

Bruce inhaled sharply and stepped inside the room, your lingering scent greeting him. Your trophies adorned the walls. This was your room? No, it couldn't be. This was too little. This was just... not it. The difference between his other childrens bedrooms and yours was so noticeable. You didn't have any fancy chandelier decorating yours. You didn't have your own bathroom.

Bruce's eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail. The neatly arranged trophies, the faded posters on the walls, and the small bed that seemed too empty now. He walked over to the desk and picked up a framed photo of you, when was this? You look so.. Grown? How old were you? Were you old enough to live alone? How come he didn't know? Did you have a job-were you even allowed to have one? he clenches his fist as he stares at the sight of your image and sees your bright smile. His heart ached at the sight. How had he missed this? How had he not noticed the signs?

Dick watched his father, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He wanted to scream, to demand why Bruce hadn't paid more attention, why he hadn't been there for you. But he knew he wasn't any better than his adoptive father was. Besides, it wouldn't change anything. The damage was done.

Bruce set the photo back down and turned to Dick, his expression a mix of regret and determination. He saw the tiny diary and other papers scattered across the floor and picked them up, reading them one by one as he slowly spiraled into regret and guilt. Dick watched as he knew this was going to make him understand. Today made it all clear to him. Why there was a nagging feeling inside of him saying that there was something missing in the manor. It was why the sweet muffled music of the orchestra haunted the manor, the same kind of music haunting their bedroom. Like it was a reminder, a warning. That something special was lost. The soothing sound of humming, light footsteps around the manor now gone. The pink bows tied around the handles of the stairs, the love that the plants receive now nowhere to be found. It was because you took that love with you.

"We need to find them," Bruce spoke, his voice steady but filled with urgency. His knees bounce as his Jaws tighten anxiously.

Dick nodded, his resolve matching his father's. "We'll find them," he replied, his voice firm. "And we'll make things right."

As they left the room, Bruce carrying the framed image of you tightly, almost as if he was paranoid that something would take it from him, and dick gently running his thumb through the texture of your pink, bowed, bright diary, the weight of their mission settled on their shoulders. They knew it wouldn't be easy, but they were determined to bring you back. The silence of the manor was a stark reminder of what they had lost, and they were ready to do whatever it took to make amends.

Bruce was anxious. He didn't have a plan. Ironic, because Batman always had a plan. It was an unspoken rule—Batman was always prepared. But now, he found himself at a loss, his mind racing with uncertainty. Perhaps it was because he knew every single person in Gotham. As the guardian of Lady Gotham, he prided himself on understanding the intricate web of connections and motives that defined the city's inhabitants. He calculated every person's actions, paid attention to every detail, and watched from the heart of Gotham.

He paid extensive attention to everyone... except you.

It wasn't intentional. He had always been consumed by the weight of his responsibilities, the never-ending battle against crime, and the need to protect the city. But now, standing in your room, surrounded by the remnants of your presence, he realized his failure. The irony of it all struck him—Batman, the meticulous planner, had overlooked the most important person in his life.

Now he was desperate, he may not have a plan but he was desperate. He'll do anything to get you back. Any possible way to get back all the times he failed you, when he failed to be a father to you. He swore to protect you and never let you out of his sight ever again.

Dick wasn't any better. As he walked, his thoughts played tricks on him, but in a way he almost relished. His mind insisted that you must be so scared without him, without your older brother to protect you. He didn't even consider the possibility that you could be an independent, fully functioning individual on your own, or the fact that you had grown and most likely abandoned the thought of "bonding" with him. In this moment, his mind was consumed by the image of you and the curiosity of what more you had within yourself that he had neglected. His anxiousness grew, causing him to bite his nails and run his hands through his hair in frustration. His breathing became ragged, and his heart pounded in his chest. It was as if he had turned feral, his bloodshot blue eyes itching to be blessed with a vision of your face.

The more he thought about it, the more his mind played tricks on him. He imagined you scared and alone, wondering why your older brother wasn't there to protect you. He couldn't bear the thought of you suffering because of his neglect. His thoughts raced, each one more frantic than the last. What if you were hurt? What if you were in danger? What if you had given up on ever reconnecting with him?

The guilt gnawed at him, making it hard to focus on anything else. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you, that he had missed so many opportunities to be there for you. His heart ached at the thought of all the moments you had spent alone, craving the attention and love that he hadn't given.

As he continued to walk, his thoughts became more erratic. He imagined you thriving without him, having found your own path and your own sense of independence. The possibility that you no longer needed him stung, but it also filled him with a strange sense of pride. You had grown, despite everything, and that was something to be admired.

Still, his mind couldn't rest. He needed to see you, to know that you were okay. The uncertainty was driving him to the brink of madness. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, determined to find you and make amends.

he wouldn't rest until he saw you again.

Both Bruce and Dick disregarded everything around them, unaware of the curious look Tim gave them. He followed quietly behind their backs, raising an eyebrow as he wondered why they hadn't noticed his presence yet. Normally, these two were incredibly guarded, so Tim was shocked by their lack of awareness. What could have made them so unfocused?

Bruce—the Batman—and Dick—the first Robin and now Nightwing—were both engrossed in a particular object. They seemed to be completely absorbed, their usual vigilance overshadowed by their intense fixation. Tim watched as Bruce's eyes remained glued to a framed photo on the desk, his expression a mix of regret and determination. Meanwhile, Dick's gaze was fixed on the pink notebook in his hands, his fingers gently tracing the glittery cover.

Tim couldn't help but wonder what was so important about these items that it made two of the most vigilant people he knew drop their guard. The framed photo of you, smiling brightly, seemed to hold Bruce in a trance, while the pink notebook, adorned with bows and glitters, seemed to capture all of Dick's attention. They were so consumed by these objects that they had let down the walls they had built through years of vigilantism.

It had to be something incredibly significant—something better yet, special.

“What are you two doing?” asked Tim, suddenly breaking the silence between the three of them as he watched the father and son duo flinch, obviously flabbergasted at his sudden interruption at their deep trance. He observed as their face turned from shock to going back to their frowning faces making him mirror the same expression. Dick clenches his jaw and exhales sharply preparing himself to speak when he is suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice he would always recognize.

"What is going on here?" a figure with deep forest-green eyes asked, standing tall in the shadows, his cold demeanor unwavering. Dick's eyes met his, and he said his name. "Damian. Wha—"

"You have deliberately abandoned your promise to train with me today. Why?" Damian's voice was sharp, full of accusation. Shoot. That was right. Dick had forgotten to train with his younger brother today. But it didn't matter now; his other sibling needed him, and it was about time they knew about them too. He glanced at Bruce's unfocused state, feral and restless.

"It's about Y/n," Dick said firmly.

Tim stood still for a moment, trying to figure out who "Y/n" was, while Damian immediately sneered at the mention of his "rival." He couldn't pinpoint why your presence angered him so much. Maybe it was because he had to share the title of being the Wayne heir with someone so... normal, someone so far below his level. You both were so different. Perhaps he was jealous of you for being so normal, for not having to worry about tainting your hands with blood and painting others black and blue. What did you even do? He didn't know, but he bet it was something a normal civilian would.

Meanwhile, his peripheral vision caught Tim standing still, deep in thought. Damian saw him processing quickly, his mind running fast as he tried to figure out who you were and why you were so relevant at the moment. Then suddenly—aha! Tim remembered now! You were the kid who had pestered him non-stop about some game.

Tim's eyes widened as he recalled the memory. The realization hit him like a wave. He had been so dismissive back then, but now he understood the significance. Guilt washed over him, mixing with curiosity and concern. What had happened to you? Why were you so important now?

Damian's sneer softened slightly, replaced with a look of contemplation. “What about them?” asked damian. While Tim wondered the same. Suddenly Bruce's cold and deep voice said “they're gone.” Damian raising an eyebrow of his response, and Tim answering “gone? Gone how?” switching his gaze from dick and Bruce's form awaiting for one of them to answer his question as the tension in the room thickens. “I mean that they're gone. All their things not found in their room, no trace of them not in the mansion, and not even a goodbye.” Tim and Damian frowned at the same time. Damian scoffed and thought you were probably just making a big scene so the attention would be on you. Bruce said “we need to find them. Now.” his voice left no choice for them to abide by his command.

Now alone in the CCTV room, Tim let his bored gaze wander over the footage from a long time ago, his palm supporting his head. Suddenly, something caught his attention. He watched as you sat, his fingers tapping the keyboard to increase the volume. You hummed lightly at the footage, a simple gesture but not to him. Your voice was so familiar to him. His eyes dilated as you continued humming, your voice sweet as honey, as light as a mother's touch trying to lull her baby to sleep.

He zoomed the footage closer and closer, almost as if he wanted to go through the screen just to hear your sweet, angelic, melancholic voice. Your voice was like a soft fur blanket to him. He didn't know if he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation, but he swore you were covered by a soft light, hugging your form and kissing your skin gently.

Tim sat in your "presence" for a bit, soaking in your voice. As he listened, memories flooded back. He recalled distant muffled sounds within the thin walls, lulling him to sleep, chasing away the demons that kept him awake at night. He had so desperately wanted to close his eyes and rest, and he remembered thinking maybe it was just a voice in his head, or maybe a real-life angel offering him salvation from suffering and the sweet pleasure of sleep. Now he knew, the angel was called "Y/n."

His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk as he leaned in closer, his breathing steadying as he watched the footage. The realization hit him hard. How had he missed this before? How had he not recognized that comforting voice? The gentle humming, the presence that had brought him solace on sleepless nights—it was all you.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch, his heart aching with a mix of regret and longing. He remembered the nights he had spent tormented by nightmares, the countless times he had struggled to find peace. Your voice had been his lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. How had he been so blind? How had he not seen the importance of your presence in the manor? Tim's thoughts spiraled as he recalled the moments he had dismissed you, the times he had been too wrapped up in his own world to notice you reaching out. He needed to see you. To hear your voice, to take you back, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness as his forehead kisses the cold, dirty floor, or to maybe steal you back without a word. He didn't know, he just had to see you.

The footage continued to play, your voice a soothing balm to his troubled mind. He sat there, never unwavering, always in awe of your voice and never taking his attention off you. He sat there,Unaware that he had been playing the same footage for hours and hours. His dilated eyes worshipping you as if you were a god.

He felt a deep sense of loss, realizing that you were gone, and he hadn't even had the chance to thank you for all the nights you had unknowingly saved him. Determined, he knew he had to find you. He had to make things right.

After some time, finally. Tim's resolve hardened as he stood up, his eyes never leaving the screen. He would find you, and he would make sure you knew how much you meant to him. With renewed purpose, he left the CCTV room, ready to join Bruce and Dick in their search. Together, they would bring you back and rebuild the bond that had been neglected for far too long.

With much focus on the object of his obsession attention, he failed to notice a tall figure in the shadows, watchin. Thinking after all these years they have finally come to their senses, realizing the greatest gift of all was right under their noses.

Damian was a dangerous person. To be fair, he was raised to be an assassin and an heir to the throne from the moment he was born. Not even a moment out of the womb did he catch a glimpse of the normal life he so desperately wanted. He trained day and night, month after month, year after year, to become the perfect product of the world's greatest detective and the daughter of the king of assassins. Imagine the inner turmoil within him when he didn't meet the expectations set upon his shoulders. All his life, all he knew was to fight. In any situation, his first instinct was to fight and guard himself for his life.

Sometimes, he wondered how they expected a child to lead thousands of assassins to create a bloodbath. Behind his pride and arrogance was a deep-seated anger towards those in charge of his fate. He was furious that his innocence had been stripped away, clawing its way back to him, but ultimately, they succeeded in giving him a future burdened with the weight of guilt for painting the young and innocent red.

Damian's upbringing left him with a constant battle within himself. The expectations placed upon him were immense, and he often felt like he was suffocating under the pressure. The relentless training, the unyielding discipline, and the need to prove himself consumed his every waking moment. The anger he felt was not just directed at those who shaped his fate but also at himself for not being able to escape it. Many didn't know of it but he found it hard to be Robin. The conflict between leaning to your instincts or “your- now- morals” was hard. To kill and to save was wrong and somehow to save and to forgive was right.

Despite his impressive skills and abilities, there was a part of him that longed for something more—something normal. He envied those who lived ordinary lives, free from the burden of bloodshed and violence. He wondered what it would have been like to have a childhood filled with laughter and innocence rather than combat and survival. As to why he wonders what more could you possibly want? He was so sure that you had so much wonderful time living such a luxurious life in the manor and never having to prove yourself to be worthy of something in being able to get the object of your desire. How could you run away from this life? From your life? You were so unfair, so selfish.

As he continued to grapple with these conflicting emotions, Damian's exterior remained cold and guarded. He rarely allowed anyone to see the vulnerable side of him, the side that yearned for a different life. But deep down, the scars of his past lingered, a constant reminder of the life he was forced into and the innocence that was stolen from him.

He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and released a heavy sigh. What a bother. Making his way to every corner of the manor to "inspect" and see if you had left any trace of yourself there. As he walked down the path, letting his bored state guide him, he glanced at the thick walls and noticed some unfamiliar works of art. His gaze roamed around the room, settling on various paintings he had never noticed before. It was as if the paintings spoke for themselves, screaming out for anyone to notice and appreciate them. The different textures, colors, shapes, and stories behind the art captivated him.

Damian liked to think that he noticed everything and had the ability to be highly aware of his surroundings, whether he was familiar with them or not. But at this moment, he paused, questioning himself. If he was truly aware, how had he managed to overlook these breathtaking canvases filled with bright colors that made him... feel things? He took a step forward and saw a tiny signature on the left side of one of the canvases. He brought his hand up to softly caress the painting, gently and carefully, as if he were afraid that a mere touch could destroy it.

Engrossed in admiring the paintings, he failed to notice the tall figure beside him. It was only when the man spoke, "Master Damian," addressing him, that he flinched slightly.

"Ah, Alfred. My apologies, I was a bit distracted by the art adorning the walls, which seems to be... unfamiliar to me. Would you mind telling me where my father keeps buying these paintings? I must say I'm quite... impressed."

Alfred frowned and smiled sadly at the youngest Wayne. "Well, Master Damian, these paintings are actually not your father's doing. Rather, they are Master Y/n's work of art."

Damian's eyes widened in surprise. He turned back to the paintings and said "Y/n did these?" he asked, almost incredulous. The realization that you had created such beautiful and meaningful art struck him deeply. He didn't even know that you could draw much less create such.. Beautiful art. While he was thinking about it he realize that he had complimented you, you!

"Indeed, Master Damian," Alfred confirmed. "Y/n spent countless hours creating these pieces. Each one holds a story, a piece of their heart."

Damian felt a pang of emotion through his chest, he couldn't pinpoint what it was but it was somehow nagging him about something, or rather someone. His fingers traced the brushstrokes with a newfound reverence, as if trying to understand the emotions you had captured on canvas.

"I never knew..." Damian whispered, more to himself than to Alfred. The layers of vibrant colors, the delicate details, and the raw emotions conveyed through your art were all a testament to the depth of your soul. He felt a connection to you that he hadn't realized before, a sense of camaraderie and understanding. And he was totally not dissing you just minutes ago.

Alfred placed a comforting hand on Damian's shoulder. "Art has a way of speaking to us, Master Damian. It reveals truths that words often cannot. Y/n's art is a reflection of their experiences, their joys, and their sorrows. It is a part of them that they have shared with the world."

Damian nodded, taking a step back to fully appreciate the entirety of your work. Your art had opened a door to a deeper connection, and he was willing to walk through it. He didn't know why but in a way this was proof that you had always had some kind of connection to him.

As Damian and Alfred stood there, surrounded by the masterpieces you had created, a sense of resolve settled over Damian. He frowns and takes a look around all the work of your art. His style doesn't differ much from yours. the caress of brush ever so slightly seen, and the emotions behind the soul of your paintings, like his. What made you so similar to him? And that, he will not know until he finds you.

He knew that finding you and bringing you back was not just about making amends—it was about recognizing and celebrating the unique and irreplaceable person you were.

Y/n considered themselves a keen observer, attuned to the delicate nuances of the world around them. They noticed the gentle yet sometimes harsh swaying of the wind as it danced with the leaves, creating a symphony of nature's whispers. They noticed the lady sitting on the park bench, quietly absorbing the view of the home she once grew up in, her memories interwoven with the present. They noticed the ducks by the pond, gracefully gliding through the water alongside their mother, a portrait of serene tranquility.

Y/n noticed everything, yet no one noticed them. And it was fine. They had long accepted this reality, enduring the loneliness of being invisible in a world where they saw so much. The weight of being unnoticed had become a familiar companion, a constant presence that shaped their existence. In the silent spaces between moments, Y/n found solace in their observations, finding beauty in the overlooked and meaning in the mundane.

So why were they just noticing you just now? Why? When you have just started to accept and move on. Why must they bring the horrors of the past when your current life is filled with hope arraying a new journey, now destroyed.

Why couldn’t Dick just let you be, drifting away in the silence you’d crafted? Why couldn’t he leave you to fade quietly, just as you had promised yourself you would, a ghost of your former self, untouched and unbothered? Yet there he was, an ever-present weight, his hands—rough, calloused, scarred by years of untold burdens—forcing your face into the past, as if his touch could rewrite history. His fingers dug into your skin, twisted into the soft contours of your face, tearing through the years of numbness, of denial, dragging you back to a place you had sworn you’d never return.

And then, Tim. Oh, Tim. The boy who once didn’t even see you, who barely even remembered your name when it lingered in the air of the manor. Now, he’s relentless, his fingers tapping into your phone with the same quiet insistence that his presence once had in the dark halls of that place you used to call home. You want to scream, to rip the silence apart, to do anything but feel what you’re feeling now—this suffocating pull to return to them, to face them, even when you know you never should have to again.

The ache swells, the lump in your throat is a tangible thing now, a choking presence you can’t swallow down. It’s the same searing pain that’s lingered, festering, hidden beneath layers of what you pretended was healing. How cruel it is, to have spent so much time trying to break free, only to find that some things, some people, are never quite done with you.

The ghost of them lingers, burrows deeper, with every unanswered message. They still haunt you, even from afar. You hate them for it, for still holding the power to break you open, to make you bleed from places you thought had long scarred over. It feels like a thousand wounds opening up again—slow, deliberate, bleeding you dry in a way you don’t know how to stop.

You stared blankly into the emptiness, feeling numb, when suddenly a hand rested on your shoulder. You flinched instinctively and turned to see who it was. Your eyes widened as you recognized your ballet teacher standing behind you. "Miss Kavinsky! I-I... Hi! I’m—" you stammered, but she quickly cut you off with a smile.

"Y/N L/N-Wayne, I know," she said with a warm tone. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you."

You winced slightly, the sound barely audible, but Miss Kavinsky didn’t seem to notice. "Come on, let’s meet the other dancers. I’m sure they’re eager to meet you."

The surprise hit you hard, and you stuttered, "M-me?" You couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

She grinned, a playful mix of amusement and mild disbelief on her face. "Yes, you. You're kind of a celebrity here, Wayne. Not surprised with a talent like yours."

Her words lingered in the air, but you went quiet, caught off guard by the compliment. You couldn’t fully process it, the idea of anyone looking up to you seemed so foreign, so distant. And somewhere in the haze, you barely registered the way she had called you "Wayne.”

As you and the other dancers gathered at the stage, a wave of anxiety washed over you. The weight of thoughts about Tim and Dick pressed heavily on your mind, and the pressure of the moment only made it worse. Just as your mind started to spiral, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Hey! You're Y/N, right? I'm Desiree, but you can just call me Des."

You forced a smile, barely hearing Miss Kavinsky as her voice faded into the background, announcing something about attendance. Your attention was now solely focused on Des, who had just broken the ice. You shook her hand and smiled more genuinely, the tension in your body loosening up a bit.

"Hi, Des. Yeah, you already know who I am. Nice to meet you."

You both exchanged a quiet laugh, and the chatter around you faded as you continued talking. For a moment, you felt like you could breathe again. You asked the usual questions: "How old are you?" "What's your favorite ballet?" The conversation flowed easily, but when your name was suddenly called for attendance, you were snapped back to reality.

"Here!" you called out, your voice getting lost in the sea of dancers.

But then Des said something that made you freeze.

"So, are you excited that both of you are here?" she asked with a playful giggle, her smile sweet and innocent.

You blinked, confused, but smiled through it. "Both of us...?" you repeated, trying to follow along.

Des chuckled softly at your puzzled expression. "You and your sister, silly! It must be so nice to perform together. My brother wouldn't even try to get into ballet, you know?"

Her words, lighthearted as they were, suddenly made your world feel like it was crashing down around you. You felt a cold panic begin to rise. Your fingers instinctively dug into your palms, almost drawing blood. Your smile wavered, barely holding on, while your eyes fluttered, teetering on the edge of tears. Des’s voice became distant, her words fading into a muffled blur as your thoughts spiraled out of control, bloodshot eyes starting to sting with unshed tears. Your heart raced, and the chaos inside you was too much to contain.

In that very moment, her name echoed through the air, sharp and clear. Without thinking, your gaze shifted, and you locked eyes with her. Her wide, unblinking stare pierced through the noise, anchoring you in place. For a fleeting second, you wondered if she had been watching you all along—since the instant your name was called, or perhaps even before. You couldn't be sure.

What you did know, however, was that the weight of her gaze felt like a force, pulling you into a quiet abyss. It made you feel small, fragile—as if you were prey beneath the steady, unyielding gaze of a predator. A shiver ran through you, and suddenly, all you wanted was to escape, to flee from the suffocating intensity of her eyes, which seemed to strip away every layer of protection you had left.

The fates were clearly playing with you now.

Cassandra was an exceptionally gifted individual, much like her siblings, each of whom possessed their own unique abilities. From the moment she first pursued ballet, her family showered her with unwavering love and support. She had access to training that most could only dream of—privileges afforded to her not because of her wealth, but because she was no ordinary person. She was Batgirl, the daughter of Batman by choice, a mantle she wore with pride. So, when an invitation arrived for her to join the prestigious Swan Lake performance alongside other top-tier dancers, it hardly came as a surprise. After all, excellence was something she had always embraced, both on the stage and off.

As she gets ready for her first rehearsal she can't help but notice that some of her siblings are missing. She shook it off and ate her food but also not abandoning the thought of asking about the absence of her siblings and father, to a familiar companion of their family:Alfred. As where Alfred only replies with them being busy about.. Something, yet said to her to fret not and just worry her mind about her ballet play, quickly chasing away her concerns for her family with a smile that made her feel lighthearted. With a chuckle she got up and made her way to the location of where the dancers were told to meet.

Cass had always believed she was the only one in her family who truly appreciated the delicate artistry of ballet. Her passion for the graceful movements, the precision of each step, and the beauty of the performances had always felt like a private world to her, a world she inhabited alone. She couldn’t recall a single moment where anyone in her family shared even the slightest interest in it. So, when she entered the crowded theater that evening, expecting to be surrounded only by fellow ballet enthusiasts, she was taken aback by something unexpected.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, she spotted you. For a fleeting moment, her heart skipped a beat, not from the rush of seeing someone in the crowd, but from an overwhelming sense of familiarity that washed over her. There you were, standing like a ghost from a forgotten past, an unexplainable connection sparking between you both. Cass couldn’t place it, but it was as though she had known you forever, even though your paths had never crossed before.

Her mind wandered, replaying the memories that had been buried deep within her. A distant image flashed across her thoughts: she was standing in a room filled with soft, pastel-colored fabrics, the scent of leather and polish hanging in the air. Two pairs of pointe shoes rested beside one another on the floor—one was familiar, worn and well-loved, the other brand new, the laces still fresh and untangled. The second pair, the one that felt entirely foreign, immediately piqued her curiosity. She was certain it wasn’t hers, yet the connection to it lingered, something so subtle but undeniable.

The realization hit her like a wave. She didn’t know you, not consciously, but somehow she felt bound to you, as if fate had woven your lives together in some strange, invisible thread long before either of you had even been aware of it.

The entire day she watched and observed you. She paid extra attention to every detail of your expressions, body language, and posture. She didn't know why but you seemed to be very clear–in her case, in distress, like you were panicking over something. And she didn't know why she somehow hated seeing you that way. As the minutes passed, she found herself simply just staring at you. Not even for a fleeting moment had she taken her gaze of you. She watched and observed tensely at every person who looks at you, who talks to you, who breathes near you. Almost as if she was guarding you. As they were told to gather she followed silently after the crowd and placed herself purposely in front of the other side from you. She scoffs in amusement as you barely notice her, too focused on your own little world. As minutes continued to pass, suddenly a girl broke you out of her thoughts with her voice making you flinch. Her breath hitched as irritation started to crawl their way through her chest. Why couldn't the girl be more gentle with you? Can't she see that you were clearly stressed? She frowns slightly at the girl, surprising herself by the sudden change of mood. She holds her breath and watches you like a hawk would at its prey. Her vision was filled with your now loosen frame, giggling with the girl who approached you earlier. A new feeling started to claw its way through her chest, now bigger and stronger. The green monster eating her up when suddenly the call of her voice brought her out of her thoughts as she, for a moment took her eyes off of you to answer quietly to her name and as she bring back her gaze to you, quickly to not miss anything she might take the pleasure in seeing, suddenly your eyes are on her too. Her eyes couldn't leave the sight of your gaze who held such horror in them, as if seeing her was too much for you. As she was your living nightmare sitting right in front of you.

The remaining time the dancers practiced, you avoided her gaze and her presence. The more you avoided her, the more she itched to be in your presence alone, to be near you. The whole time at the practice she was, for the first time, distracted. Her thoughts are consumed by you. Her thoughts came up with every question she could ask about her and your current situation. What were you doing here? Why didn't she know? Were you at the manor? No, if you were she would've known.. Right? Okay if you weren't, then why weren't you? Those questions alone made her uneasy and frustrated. As it was time to go home, she watched as you hurriedly got out and quickly went home to wherever your home was. The nagging feeling screamed at her to follow you but decided against it and thought that going home and bringing the news to her family might help more. After all, they were stronger together.

She stormed into the manor, urgency in her every step, and sought out Alfred with a single, breathless demand: "Boys. Where?" Without hesitation, he led her to them. Her gaze fell upon them, intense and unyielding, her pupils trembling with an unspoken storm. She whispered a single name, a breathless, haunting utterance: "Y/N." The boys, in unison, responded, "We know."

A deep breath escaped her, the weight of their actions—venturing after you without so much as a word—forgotten for the moment. She snatched a laptop, her fingers flying over the keys in a frantic dance of their own. The screen flickered to life, revealing a video that stole the breath from the room. There you were, dancing—each movement a testament to grace, each step more captivating than the last.

The world had already fallen under your spell. The internet buzzed with adoration, praising the way your every turn, every leap, every pause held the audience in thrall. Under the stage lights, you seemed more than human—a celestial being, your form bathed in soft light, glowing like an ethereal angel, kissed by the very air around you. The boys stood frozen, their gaze fixed upon you, entranced.

Your presence was no illusion. You were a goddess of their own making, and in that moment, they knew: they were already devoted, bound by the silent understanding that they would worship you, body and soul.

As the video played, the room fell into a hushed reverence. The boys, once brimming with urgency and tension, now stood motionless, their eyes locked onto the screen, as if spellbound. Every fluid movement you made seemed to breathe life into the very air around them. They couldn’t look away; they didn’t want to. Your every step, every pirouette, was poetry in motion, a delicate balance of strength and grace that made their hearts race.

The way you arched your back mid-spin, the soft brush of your fingertips against your skin, the quiet breath you took before every leap—it all drew them in, slowly, methodically, as though they were witnessing something far beyond the ordinary. Each turn of your body mirrored the very rhythm of their own hearts, synchronized with the ethereal pulse of the music, and they couldn’t help but feel as if the entire world had narrowed down to this one sacred moment.

Your eyes, though focused on the stage, seemed to flicker with a spark of something far deeper, something they couldn't quite place but could almost taste. It was like watching a dream unfold, where every movement became a metaphor—each glide across the stage spoke to something eternal, something untouchable. They found themselves lost in the elegance of your form, the way your body seemed to move with a natural fluidity that defied the laws of physics.

The lights above you softened, caressing your silhouette, painting you in a divine glow. And in that moment, they felt small, insignificant even, as if you had been carved out of stardust itself, too perfect to comprehend, yet impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the skill of your dance—it was your presence, your essence that held them captive.

They felt an almost primal pull, as though your every movement was speaking directly to their souls. The way your body spoke without words—your elegance and power blending seamlessly—rendered them speechless. They were entranced by the aura you carried, intoxicated by your beauty and the mystery you exuded, a beauty that wasn’t merely skin-deep but radiated from within, a force of nature.

For a fleeting moment, they could almost believe that you were more than human, that you were something higher, something divine. They stood there, wide-eyed and breathless, as if they had been granted a glimpse of something sacred—something that no one else could understand. And in that moment, they knew that they would follow you, worship you, in a devotion that transcended mere admiration. You weren’t just captivating; you were everything. They couldn't believe that someone like you had been overlooked by then.

Bruce now understands that with no plan in mind he would still follow you till the end of the earth. Oh his little baby. He would do anything to earn your love and affection for him. To see you and to bask under the ray of sunshine your smile brings. To feel your presence alone.

Dick now understands that he owes you more than a few dinners or dates as siblings. No. He owes you the world. As guilt eats his flesh up one by one, mourning all the versions of you that he could have witnessed right before his eyes are now long gone. But that's okay, he'll make it up to you.

Tim now understands that you were surely his angel. His savior. His form of salvation. He could watch you all day and never get bored. He could listen to you all day until his ears bled but never say a word.

Damian now understands that the disbelief he felt when looking at your paintings full of emotions overflowing with a sense of overwhelming feel, was now long gone because he knew that only such being like you, almost like a supernatural being, could be the only one who has the ability to capture such deep emotions in one painting, to be able to create such beautiful, breathtaking object.

Cassandra now understands why she felt like she somehow had a connection to you and that was because she was your sister. And as she was a daughter to batman by choice, that she will also be a sister by choice to you. She was an observer, someone who guards-and she will guard you with her life for all eternity.

As the overwhelming tension fills the room Alfred stands at the corner with a small smile. “apologies master y/n had I done this sooner, you would have not slipped through my grasp dear child. Do not fret for your family is coming to get you.”

Ah, Alfred, the mastermind. He knew this would happen. He just needed to intertwine a little. He did not worry because he knew. He knew that leaving your bedroom door open the moment he knew Dick was coming over to the manor while the others were busy, and knowing Dick's tendency to wander off in the vast expanse of Wayne Manor, the chances of him finding your room were high. He knew that rearranging your trophies inside your room (which you had told him to get rid of) would pique the interest of your family even more. He knew that decorating your hidden paintings around the minimalist and empty walls of the house would catch the attention of the youngest Wayne. He knew that playing those soft melodies of your voice through the small TV in the kitchen would enchant a certain sleep-deprived boy, making him miss the sweet sound of your voice.

Alfred knew that when Cassandra was called for the big ballet play, you would be at the same play too, as you had told him over the phone, giggling and excited with a high-pitched voice. He didn't bother to tell you about your sister's similar invitation, nor did he inform your sister about yours. He knew every single detail, every thread that needed to be woven together to create this intricate tapestry of reconnection.

Alfred's wisdom was like a silent symphony, orchestrating events with a delicate touch. He understood the nuances of each family member, their strengths, their weaknesses, and their desires. He knew that Dick's curiosity would lead him to your room, where the trophies would spark memories and questions. He knew that Damian's keen eye for detail would be drawn to the vibrant paintings, each brushstroke a testament to your hidden talents. He knew that Tim, in his sleep-deprived state, would be captivated by the melodies of your voice, a soothing balm to his restless mind.

Alfred's heart ached with the knowledge of your absence, but he also held hope. Hope that these carefully placed breadcrumbs would lead your family back to you, to the realization of what they had lost and the determination to make amends. He knew that the path to reconciliation was not an easy one, but it was a journey worth taking.

As the days passed, Alfred watched with a knowing smile as the pieces began to fall into place. He saw the flicker of recognition in Dick's eyes, the softening of Damian's demeanor, and the spark of determination in Tim's gaze. He knew that the seeds he had planted were beginning to grow, and soon, the family would be whole again.

Alfred was getting old and he couldn't bare the vision of his children Bruce and you, drifting away from each other, and you from him. Maybe it was his own selfish reason but he couldn't help it. He raised you from the moment you got to the manor. Teached you everything he knew and gave you all the love he could. He watched you grew up and maybe it was a moment of rush that he allowed himself to be selfish and turn the tables around.

In the quiet moments, Alfred allowed himself a moment of reflection. He thought of you, the child who had brought so much light into his life. He knew that you deserved to be seen, to be cherished, and to be loved. And he would do everything in his power to ensure that you found your way back to the family that needed you just as much as you needed them.

Authors note: I'm sorry I took so long in writing this! I hope yall enjoy the 10k+ words I wrote. One tip tho is to read and observe the details very carefully! Dw I'm gonna explain it soon tho. Hope yall enjoy this cuz imma take a break after this.

[keepthedelta]

hi, do you think lewis and nico were really best friends at some point? whether it was in 2013, 2014, 2015 or 2016? bc i was seeing some blogs that they do not think they were really that good of friends, but the way they did hurt each other, and hurt themselves in 2015 and 2016 really screams "you were my best friend and u betrayed me " kind of thing

i mean, as adults maybe not so much, but as children absolutely.

one quality of both nico and lewis that i personally think is really really important to them and their characters is that they were both very lonely little boys. lewis grew up as a mixed race child from a working class background moving between the households of his divorced parents in the notoriously welcoming, racially equally, class blind nation of england. he faced racial abuse from grown adults as an incredibly young child at remote control car events (and i do mean young, like 5 years old) and took up martial arts as a child to learn how to defend himself from bullies. nico grew up on the opposite end of the spectrum as the beloved only child of a millionare formula one world champion, and spent a lot of his early childhood travelling with his parents. he's said before that because of this he was very lonely in his early childhood, as he didn't really know any other children, and he couldn't even really connect with an entire section of his family because he was never taught finnish. then, when he did go to school and meet other children he didn't quite fit in there. he was too awkward, too pretty, too nerdy. it wasn't that he had no friends, but he didn't have many, and he was bullied a lot by other children who would stick things in his hair and hold him down, and because the adults did nothing, he had to learn how to deal with it himself.

so their early lives, although very different, share the quality of loneliness and isolation, and being excluded by their peers. this continued when they began karting. lewis was ostracised because of his race and his class (and almost certainly because he was much better than them and they were jealous) and nico was ostracised because he had a famous and successful father, because he was pretty and awkward (and again, because he was better than a lot of them, and there was a lot of jealousy involved). from the very first time they raced together, it was lewis and nico out way ahead of everyone else, peers as both racers and lonely children. so much of their bond as children came from being lonely and excluded by others, but in each other they finally found a friend.

the first time lewis ever came to monaco was to visit nico. he has said multiple times how visiting nico, seeing how the rosbergs (and other monaco residents) lived became the foundation for the life that he wanted to live and has since chosen to live. when he moved to monaco in 2012/2013, he moved into the same building as nico, which is also the same building as nico's childhood apartment (he just moved into another unit in the same building when he turned 18), therefore the exact same building that lewis first stayed in when he came to visit nico.

i think it's fair to say that they weren't necessarily best friends during their adulthood. after karting they went into separate single seater series (lewis to formula renault in the uk, nico to formula bmw in germany) and although they spent a year in f3 together in 2004, they were in separate teams and developed other relationships along the way. but i don't think you can say they weren't friends. lewis went on holiday with the rosbergs when he and nico were 17, at least a year after they stopped karting. there are photos of him partying with nico and vivian, who got together when they were 18. he and nico went on holiday with adrian sutil after they had begun in formula one. their reaction to their first shared podium in 2008 is not the reaction of people who are not friends. they literally did interviews talking about their friendship. when lewis moved to monaco, if he didn't have food in the house he would go upstairs to nico and vivian and eat with them. they might not have been best friends by that point, but they were absolutely still friends in some sense of the word.

to me, one of the major reasons why that silver war time period reads so much of "being betrayed by your best friend" is because lewis and nico were formative friends. the closeness may not have been the same all the way to the end, but it was the foundation for who each of them became. two lonely little boys who filled in the cracks of their lives with each other because it was the first time, at least in racing, that someone else was actually nice to them. lewis's dad still has photos of lewis and nico as teenagers and voluntarily brings up that time of their lives and the importance of it even after everything that went down. nico once got given an old karting magazine that had him and lewis on the cover and immediately turned all nostalgic and wistful. lewis has repeatedly said that karting with nico was the best time of his life.

as people, everything that we are is fundamentally a collection of memories and experiences and reactions to those moments. we learn and grow, and none of us are the same when we're thirty as we are when we're thirteen. but if you're thirty and the person that you're fighting against, even just professionally, was someone who helped make you who you are by being nice to you when you were thirteen when no one else was nice to you, hurting them is always going to hurt you because they are a part of you, and you are a part of them.

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Beyond The Bat

(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)

Chapter 1: In The Shadows

TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!

Living in the Wayne manor isn't the sweet luxurious dream you'd think it'd be, reality is in fact much crueler. For as long as I could remember I had lived in this dreary mansion, but lived isn't the word I'd use. I was more trapped here if anything. My "family", if I could even call them that, are well respected people. They're highly skilled and talented people, someone like me could only dream to be like them. I tried so hard to get close to them, I really did try, but no matter what I did nothing worked. I did everything, gymnastics, martial arts, theater, art, music, coding, dance, volleyball, cheerleading, heck I was even in the honors society. Despite being an A+ student and a role model in high society they never once went to any of my recitals, games, or showcases. I went to galas all alone, I had to deal with the sneering faces and snide remarks of high class men and woman alone since I was 8. Not very safe for a child huh? I didn't think so either but my "father" doesn't seem to care.

Nevertheless, I have no choice in this matter and it's not like life here is unbearable. Sure I get beatings and tongue lashings every now and then, but for the most part everyone in the manor tends to forget me eventually and leave me alone. It's pretty isolating but I got used to it, after all I have duties to perform. I have my job as Student council president and I don't intend to slack off. I got that job with my own blood sweat and tears and I will not let all those sleepless nights go to waste. I don't have time to wallow in self pity I have countless of students looking up to me and counting on me to do my job.

"Young master, are you okay? You seem to be staring off into space."

I looked up to our old butler, his face jaded and littered with wrinkles that seemed to contort pathetically in worry. I knew better than to accept his pity. He seems to be a wise gentle man on the outside with his elegant wardrobe, worn old body, and soft spoken demeanor, but do not be fooled. In truth, Alfred Pennyworth was a foolish coward. This was the same man who abandoned his own daughter just like my idiot of a father. I gave him a chance, but nothing's been the same since the day he accidentally called me Julia. I was nothing but a stand in for him, someone to relieve his guilt with.

"I'm fine. Don't you have something better to do? I'm sure Bruce has some kind of task for you, no need to bother yourself with my problems"

"...Very well then...Take care of yourself young master."

He clearly had something more to say but he decided to do nothing and walk away. Like I said he's a coward. Still I'm not new to disappointment, whether it's the disappointment of missed birthdays or the way they all see me as the disappointment, it's nothing I haven't experienced before. I quickly packed up my things and headed to school. Sure riding to school on an old worn out bike isn't exactly ideal, but I have to deal with what I have. Although, I do have to take some back alleys to school since I don't want anyone seeing and starting a scandal. I can already see the blaring headlines, "Daughter of Gotham's richest man caught riding to school on a beat up bicycle!". What a bunch of nosy bastards.

"Good mornin' (Y/N)!"

I turned to face the sunny senior calling my name, his unadulterated joy making him stand out in the crowd of groggy gothamites.

"Good morning Cyrus."

My crisp responses never seems to deter the boy as he continues to walk beside me chattering endlessly.

"(Y/N) I got things you asked! It's super cool what you're doing for the school, I'm so happy I get to be apart of it! If you ever need help with anything please do ask me!"

I sighed, his joyful energy was contagious. I couldn't help but crack a smile. Though it quickly disappeared as I regained my composure, but obviously not fast enough since Cyrus' joy seems to only be growing.

"Ahhhhh (Y/N) just smiled! I made the student president smile! I'm so sigma"

Here he goes again with those weird words and that cocky grin. I sighed once again, I'm too tired for this.

"Yes thank you Cyrus get to class now, I'll pick up the things I asked for after school."

"Yes ma'am!"

I watched as he playfully saluted and ran to class almost bumping into several people along the way. I facepalmed, he was such a handful but strangely I don't really mind. It's probably the lack of sleep I'll make sure to go to bed early today, for now I have to get to class myself.

Author's note: Omg chapter one is finally out! This took me a lot longer than expected but I hope it's good I went through a tiny writer's block😅. I hope you guys like Cyrus I tried to make him a silly and sunny character but trust me he'll have lore and be a much deeper character. I also tried making (Y/N)'s backstory pretty vague since they're the narrator and I figured they wouldn't like talking about it, but their lore will be revealed more throughout future chapters. Anyways as always thank you all for reading and have a good day/night!

Credits to khaer for the dividers

@simpingpandas @rosalietodd013 @sirenetheblogger @cim0nnin @00hellohello00 @crazycaoticsimp @lovebug-apple @youdontknowshtaboutfk

[wwaheoh]

“Making Lunch For Them” - Victoria Housekeeping x gnReader (Platonic)

Alexandrina Sebastiane, Corin Wickes, Ellen Joe, Von Lycaon

a/n: was hunger bungers when writing this

You had been pretty steadily acclimating to your new part-time job at Victoria Housekeeping. It was pretty fun! Apart from the whole “fighting Hollows” on the side- but with your high Ether Aptitude and company sponsored martial arts classes, even the fighting from time to time became enjoyable.

Your coworkers were all very kind. The elegant and warm Mr. Lycaon, your employer, who always aimed to uplift you and never showed any sort of malice or anger whenever you messed up or were unfamiliar with a task. The graceful, gentle Ms. Sebastiane, your senior, was always so nice to you and gave you tips and advice whenever you asked, even offering to cook you food sometime! You haven’t taken her up on her offer yet, but seeing as how well she does the rest of her duties, you could only imagine how great her cooking tastes! There was Ms. Corin, a timid girl who always undervalued her skills- even if truthfully, they were contrary to how she described them. And Ellen Joe, who was also part-timing while attending school. She tended to sleep pretty often, though it made sense, juggling education, work, and maintaining social lives.

They were incredibly helpful and as you became more comfortable around them, you wanted to show your appreciation to them. It took a while, having to subtly probe for information while not giving yourself away. Thankfully after a few questions it was easy to figure out if they had any allergies or favorite foods.

On a weekend, you rose early before your shift began, pulling ingredients from the fridge and starting up the music from your phone. Recipes written down and tweaked to fit their preferences.

After a few hours, you added the finishers and promptly put the food into storage, lunch boxes with Halloween icon stickers slapped on. Frankenstein, a shark, ghosts, and a werewolf.

Taking a shower, you donned your work attire and made your way to the location of the job for today, something not too difficult, just some cleaning and guarding the premises, the usual. Now was the time to deliver your gifts!

Carrying the lunch box with the Frankenstein sticker, you made your way through the premises to find the first victim of your gifts, Corin! You knew she was nearest to where you were stationed- and after a few minutes you found her. Turning the corner, you found the soft green-haired maid cleaning up a vase with a brush.

Approaching from behind, you called out to her, “Corin! There you are!” “Ahh!” She yelled, nearly dropping the vase before quickly getting a handle of it and setting it down before turning to you. “Ah, sorry! Didn’t know you had something in your hands.” You apologized, knowing how the maid was a little accident-prone.

“It’s fine! Uhm, what did you need?” To answer that question, you lifted up the lunch box, “I made some lunch for you all, to show my appreciation!” “Oh! That’s so nice of you, but I didn’t really do much…” “Ah c’mon! You’ve done a lot! You’ve really helped me get used to this job and are a role model!” “Oh that’s so nice to hear…” She shrinked into herself, thankfully not out of negativity but basking in your compliment, a slight giggle escaping her. “Uhm, well thank you! I can’t wait to eat it!” “Hope you enjoy it!”

With that she took her lunch, taking the lunchbox with her to a nearby suitable dining area and opening up the lunchbox.

Inside were some of her favorite foods! Small decorations and a smell that was heavenly. It wasn’t heavy- seeing as she was still on the job, a perfect portion! Her heart wobbled, thinking of how kind you were to offer your cooking to her, she was going to enjoy it for sure!

Shark-stickered lunchbox in hand, you looked through the premises, before finding the shark-girl resting her arm on one of the shelves as she dusted them off. A lollipop in her mouth as usual to help keep her up.

Just as you rounded the corner, it seemed like she already knew you were in the room. Turning towards you, she nodded as greetings, “Yo.”

“Hey Ellen!” You lifted one of the lunchboxes up and towards her. “I made lunch for everyone!” She was surprised, touched that you went through the lengths. Gladly, she took the lunch box and opened it up, chuckling, much to your confusion and worry, as she did.

“So that’s why you were asking all those questions.” “Oh! I thought I was pretty subtle about it…” “You call that subtle? Well you pretty much got it perfect, was feeling pretty tired- this should help!” Pleased to have gotten the food right, you waved your goodbyes, “I’m gonna go deliver the rest to the others!” “Seeya!” She waved back.

Going over to a nearby suitable dining area, she set the lunchbox down and opened up, the familiar smell of her favorite food filling her nose. With a giddy feeling, she dug in, already feeling her energy coming back.

With a lunch box decorated with ghost-themed stickers in hand, you made your way through the halls of the premises and to where Ms. Sebastiane was directed to maintain. You wandered back and forth, confused from not being able to find her before feeling a light grip on your shoulder. “Boo.” A silky voice whispered into your ear, an audible smile in her voice. Turning, you nearly let out a yelp- only a small one escaping you, before realizing who the hand that was on your shoulder belonged to. The very person you were looking for.

“Ah! Miss Sebastiane! I was looking for you!” She nodded as you had quickly recovered from the surprise, “Mhm, what was it dear?” “I uh, I made something for everyone! You all have been really nice and I wanted to make something to show my appreciation!” Pulling the lunchbox out, you hand your senior the box.

Taking it with a grateful smile, she opens it up, the familiar smell of her favorite food filling her senses. A small chuckle leaves her, “So that’s why you’ve been asking all those questions…” “Oh, I thought I was pretty subtle about it…” “Don’t worry, we don’t deal in undercover work apart from what you already know.” Closing the lunchbox, she drifted close and embraced you. “Thank you, it looks wonderful!” You returned the embrace, after a few seconds the two of you let go and she drifted back. “I’m going to go deliver the last of the lunch boxes I prepared!” She nodded, bidding you adieu as you left.

She made her way to a suitable dining area, softly settling herself and the lunchbox down. Opening it up and preparing the utensils, she took a bite of what you had made for her. While she usually projected gracefulness and a soft professionalism, she could not stop the squeal of delight and the smiles brought from the gift.

Going over to where Mr. Lycaon was stationed with the final lunchbox, stickers of wolves decorating the case, you rounded the corner and found the boss of Victoria Housekeeping pretty easily, with him being vacuuming.

“Uh, sir!” You spoke over the loud fans inside the vacuum he was holding, with him quickly noticing you and turning it off. “How may I be of assistance?” His rumbly voice spoke in the now quiet room. “Well sir, I brought lunch!” You both approached each other, meeting in the middle as you handed the lunch box over to him, with him gratefully accepting the gift. “It smells wonderful, I imagine this is why you’ve been inquiring so much about everyone’s tastes?” “Ah- yes sir! Though I believed I was subtle about my information gathering…” “Haha, it’s of no concern. I thank you for this meal, you must give me the recipe some time!” “Of course sir! I have it written down somewhere at home, I’ll get it to you as soon as I can!”

With that, you bid each other farewell for now, with you going to where you had been stationed and beginning your shift properly. Lycaon on the other hand had decided that now was a perfect time for a break, finding himself somewhere suitable to dine before cracking the lunchbox open once more and enjoying what you had made. It was incredibly well made, making him wish he could have seconds. Alas, as he licked his snout and attempted to get his tail under control, he hoped to try more of your cooking.

[tizeline]

Hi, love your Au and your art!

Since the Drax boys have lived in the Hidden City their whole lives, they have a much better sense of community than the Donnie. Even if they aren't the most well liked since I assume most yokai find their views on human's extreme. They can still go down to a supermarket, a restaurant, a park. All things in which Donnie has never been able to do out in daylight. How would they react onto figuring out. "Oh, crap this kid is a socially isolated weirdo [affectionate]." Like would they do a montage of dragging Donnie to all their favorite places? Also, I imagine that yokai culture has different faux pas, any Donnie might just accidentally do something offensive, like how he did in Witch town by not collecting the worms right. Or he might accidentally do something incredibly dangerous like go to a place with gangs or go to Big Mama's and he'd have no idea because Donnie's not a resident of the Hidden City. Also, do you think Yokai celebrate Christmas or New Years? I imagine it would be very weird for Donnie to see people that look like you and be under the same category of 'freak' (in the human city) just walking around doing everyday things. Especially since Donnie's spent his whole life hiding, walking around and not worrying about if some human scientist is going to nab you must be world-endingly weird. Also, it would probably give Donnie hope for things he's never been able to do before. Make a proper friend group, own a home in a neighborhood, and go to college. All the regular teen things he see's people in the movies and April doing.

Also, something I've always wondered in canon, do you think Donnie has his shots? Since he can't access a regular doctor, do you think he's just like a carrier of every single dead disease. I assume he's probably immune to a lot of sicknesses because of how Draxum made them. But imagine Draxums reaction when he wants to get Donnie's medical records (I imagine Draxum is a stickler for health, shots, and Doctor checkups as a form of affection) and Donnie has to tell him he's literally never been to an actual Doctor. I imagine at some point he made records for himself, but that was probably when he got a bit older, so for the first seven years or so, Splinter was just hoping Donnie didn't come down with anything deadly.

I'm also betting that the Drax boys are a bit smarter than canon because Draxum seems like the type of person to do ZERO skimping on education. Like yes, Donnie's still smarter, however I do think they Drax boys are just smarter than canon, like they probably know high school algebra, science, yokai history all that stuff. I think it would be cool to see the boys reference a piece of yokai culture of history and Donnie just be like ".....what". I imagine it make him very mad to be out of the loop in any piece of knowledge. However, Donnie could make a human pop culture reference and also get the Drax boys confused.

LMAO yeah it's quite weird for Donnie to be able to just. Walk around in public without having to worry about anyone finding out that he's a mutant. It takes him a while to adjust to the fact that he doesn't have to hide his turtle-features amongst yōkai, he probably instictually keeps doing it for a while at first (keeping to the shadows and wearing clothes that hides his appearence, stuff like that).

His brothers are quite eager to introduce Donnie to all the cool stuff in The Hidden City that he's been missing out on. And while part of Donnie's difficulty with social interactions is just a symptom of him being autistic, him growing up so isolated definitely made things even harder for him. A lot of his knowledge about social etiquette he learned from like........ shows and movies, and I don't think 80s martial arts- and campy sci-fi-movies are the best teachers on how to interact with others lol. He had April of course, but she's one person and also kind of a weirdo too. And all of that just may have given him insight on how to socialize in human society, he's very unprepared for yōkai society!

His brothers really don't mind this, partially because Donnie's behavior is so similar to Draxum so they honestly just find it endearing. They also fully expected Donnie to have been completely traumatized from living amongst humans. The fact that he's (mostly) fine, just a bit eccentric, is great news to them! Also a lot of yōkai consider the entire Draxum family to be a bunch of weirdos too, maybe Donnie doesn't really fit in amongst other yōkai as much as he'd liked but he DOES fit in amongst his family, both the Hamatos and the Draxums! :]

Also LMAOOO- Splinter: "This is my son Donatello, he has every disease"

Honestly..... yeah Donnie kinda mostly relied on his mutation-enhanced immune system growing up. Donnie, being a NERD, might have figured out how to get himself vaccinated for at least some stuff eventually. I also imagine with Splinter knowing he himself is the closest thing to a medic he or Donnie were ever gonna get access to, he put in effort into research and other precautions to be safe. That being said, he's not an expert, and while I do believe the Hamato Ninja Training included some basic medical training like first aid and such, there's the small problem of both Splinter and Donnie both having EXTREMELY weird biology on account of the mutation, so Splinter kinda just had to guess a lot and hope for the best when it came to Donnie's health

Regardless, I absolutely belive that as soon as Donnie's relationship with Draxum became slightly less hostile, Draxum managed to convince Donnie to sit down for a checkup. And OMG Draxum being so concerned about his kids' health as a form of affection is both adorable and hilarious 😭

And yup the Drax Bros got a much better education in the AU compared to canon lmaooo (Leo still doesn't like reading books though). Donnie is still definitely the most academically gifted, but yeah his brothers of course are going to know a lot more about yōkai stuff in general, which kinda makes Donnie a little bit insecure. Specifially when Raph, Mikey and Leo start talking about something yōkai-related that Donnie is completely ignorant of, then that makes him feel a bit left out. Of course, then he, April will talk about something human-related and then his brothers are the ones out of the loop (aside from maybe Leo he knows quite a bit about human pop-culture)

[spiritofrainbursts]

Back from the Shadow Realm ( A Long Awaited Update)

- Designs not yet finalized -

- Update below the cut -

Good evening to one and all!! Welcome to the first ever Fur & Fun Friday! So in case it weren't already apparent my account recently got banished to the shadow realm as of a result of handing out invites for a Secret Santa I've been helping @head---ache out with ever since offering to help run the project back in December and wound up deactivating as a result because I didn't feel like dealing with Tumblr staff and felt it would be easier to start from scratch again so I could kick off the new page with a long awaited update regarding the future of my work. Hopefully this doesn't happen again so I don't have worry about my content gaining zero traction nor go through the hassle of creating a new account for the up tenth time, ah anxiety ye heartless bitch, but if it does then I'll be sure to get off me ass and bug the help desk next time around.

With that being said the short of it is that ya'll probably won't be seeing any art from me for awhile starting Pride Month at the very latest depending on whether or not I can get some smaller projects such as updating my Dragon, Sonic, and never before seen Poke sona's designs done and out of the way before then. Why? Well for whatever reason, whether it be the insomnia that has plagued me since senior year of highschool or the mental health issues I've unfortunately have had to deal with over the years as a result of unwanted drama, some of which was admittedly on me and too anyone who may have been caught in the crossfire at the time it all happened truly from the bottom of my heart I'm sorry if I said or did anything to hurt you and hope that wherever you are that you're living your best life regardless of whether or not you decide to forgive me for my past actions or not and hey even if you don't than that's ok too, it's no skin off my back, or even certain events from past that have come back to haunt me with a vengeance over the years, something I've only recently come to terms with thanks some personal growth on my end that has allowed me to feel the happiest I've felt in awhile even if I don't have a lot going for me right now, for the past few years now I've had some kind of weird creative burn out that has made it difficult for me to sit down and draw as much as I used to which in turn has caused a severe decline in content on my end. As a result as soon as I complete my previously forementioned projects I shall here by be going on an indefinite hiatus so I may use the time to create a content buffer and get back in the swing of things. Once I do I'll be sure to set up a new side blog to share my work on a semi regular basis again and hopefully when I do I can start bringing in some income in the form of merch as well as potential adopts so if you'd be interested in receiving some prints and/or characters from me then be sure to be on look out for that as well as a couple of secret projects I'm hoping to start production for in the coming months hue hue 😉 Until then however you can at the very least expect to start seeing some written martial from me throughout the course of this year starting with my contribution for Kat's Secret Santa event come Valentines Day so be sure to keep an eye on my Rainburst Studios tag in the near future and be sure to follow me on my new A03 for updates! (Just a heads up that I'll be changing my user back to Spiritofrainbursts on there come Wednesday as I changed my mind last minute lol Also I lied you'll technically be seeing a fic from me before Valentines Day even if it's a reupload of an older one shot I never got a chance to finish, and never will or at least as is, for archival purposes.)

Welp that's all from me folks so if you have any questions feel free to send them my way via the inbox otherwise 🎶 SO LONG AND GOODNIGHT 🎶 cause this girl needs some 🎶 SLEEEPP 🎶 (Yes that was an MCR joke. Deal with it cause I've gotten deep into their music as of late and intend to start making a crap ton of jokes based off their songs alongside some other rockbands and/or rock music I enjoy such as Crush 40 or Carry on my Wayward Son by Kansas.)

[godhandler]

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#7 : Jealousy, Jealousy  

[Who are you calling 'onii-chan'? And why does Noritoshi hate it so much?]

[tw: noritoshi kamo x reader, arranged marriage, forced marriage, child marriage, mentions of adultery, couple slurs ig, jealous and pissed noritoshi, reader gets a crush on a non-noritoshi entity, fluff]

#6 - Husbandly Duties #8 - Ice-Cream Date

Noritoshi Kamo was nothing if not a responsible man. If he’s been given a wife to be responsible for, he’ll damn well make sure that he’s doing it properly. It doesn’t matter that the said wife is 14 years old. That’s why he’s already halfway through ‘Raising A Strong Teen Girl: Tips and Tricks for the Single Mother’ in the Kamo library, only two days after the wedding ceremony. Noritoshi Kamo, as we asserted earlier, takes his responsibilities seriously. 

The family is still mad at him for agreeing to Gojo’s demands yesterday. But what’s done is done: you will be attending Jujutsu High. In a week, in fact. The best way to proceed, Noritoshi believed, was to arm you to do your best there. 

You’re scrolling through Instagram when Noritoshi sits on the sofa next to you. Just as the book says, Rule 1: Always maintain a comfortable environment with your difficult teen. “Morning” He greets you. You ignore him. Fucking brat. “Alright then, I see you’re busy. I had some extra dango I wanted to share, but I can-”

“- I’ll have it.” Your attention is still on your phone, but at least you’re talking to him. The book’s working. Rule 2: Offer incentives for good behaviour. 

“The dango comes after though. We have to talk about your schooling first.” 

“UGH!” You look at him with such disgust in your eyes. It’s okay, Noritoshi, she just lacks proper communication skills. Remember, you're the older one. Be calm, be calm… “Fucking fine! What’s there to talk about?”

It must be noted here that this behaviour was reserved only for Noritoshi. With the servants you were kind. With the elders, you were polite and obedient to the bone, having been training to be so since childhood. And with the young Kamo kids, you were jolly friends. 

You weren’t stupid though. Your relations with the above mentioned people were set in stone. With Noritoshi, you know, that the relationship you set when your marriage is still raw will set the tone of your relationship for the rest of your lives. If you were to behave with subservience now, he’ll expect you to lick his feet forever. No, now is the time to be difficult, to upset the power balance, to get the upper hand – 

How the fuck did I get stuck here?

Noritoshi is droning on and on. You’ve lost track a good while ago. Ancient sorcery clans…past users of Distillation… respectable martial arts for nobility…Kamo heritage…proper curtsies…student discipline… Everything that Noritoshi deems important for you to know, he's making sure that you know it. He's even got the whiteboard out.

At least you can chew on the dango Noritoshi gave you. You simply nod along to whatever Noritoshi is saying, not hearing a word, happy to be given dango. From Noritoshi’s point of view, even though you’re not participating in his lessons, you’re still acting decently. Rule 3: Expect only minor behavioural improvements over time. You're not snappy; your husband is happy enough. 

Or so he thought. Why then, is he watching you giggling and playing around with, of all people in the universe, his goddamn half-brother?

—-

Miyumi, the wife of Noritoshi’s father, never extended her open and visceral hatred of Noritoshi towards you. She’s been like a caring aunt to you all your life, helping you adjust to the Kamo household when you first stepped foot in there, letting you go without doing any chores, and supplying you with as much freedom as she could vouch for. Like most of the Kamo women, she pitied you too. 

Of course, not a drop of that pity extended to Noritoshi. Not only was he constant proof of her husband’s adultery, he had also replaced her son, Kanato, as the rightful heir. Unlike most Kamo couples, Miyumi and Noritoshi’s father had actually married out of love. She had remained in love, devoted, beautiful, caring, high-status, respectful, obedient to him all her life, even bearing him a firstborn son– only to be replaced in one fell swoop. And by whom? A low-class non-sorcerer whore? With a dirty little kid simply because he could toss some blood around? 

Miyumi couldn’t even bear the sight of Noritoshi.

She didn’t mind hearing you complain about him though. She liked it when you visited her chambers, she liked talking with you. After so many years, she knew that her hatred was pointless, but the inertia of the hate did carry her forward in this stifling household. As she poured you another cup of tea while you talked about Noritoshi’s newfound determination to be a (boring) teacher who only talked about martial arts without actually letting you practise it, Miyumi smiled and called for her son. 

“He’s just back from Oxford for a week, he’s studying political history there. You haven’t met him, I suppose, little one?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t, Miyu-chan.”

Kanato’s heavy footsteps on the wooden flooring herald his arrival. 

You remember this moment for the rest of your life. Kanato Kamo, your first ever crush. Tall, lean, angel-faced, short hair dyed blonde, wearing pearls on his neck and opals on his fingers, eyeliner on his thin eyes, and a piercing above his smiling lips. Why was he walking in slow-motion? Why did your heart jump when he petted your head? Why did his voice sound like rich dark chocolates when he asked you to call him ‘onii-chan?’ Why… why does his face look so much like Noritoshi?

Your husband, Noritoshi, and his half-brother, Kanato, both look exactly like their father. Even though Kanato is a thousand times cooler and he’s in college and he wears his yakuta like a prince and you call him ‘onii-chan’ and he says he’ll teach you how to spar hand-to-hand.

Miyumi is pleased that you two get along well. Kanato chuckles at his mother's adoration for you, promising with a wink to take great care of you. You think you almost swoon.

—-

For one, Noritoshi didn’t know that Kanato was back home. Two, he definitely didn’t know that Kanato was back home to fool around with his wife. Why then is he now watching you giggling and playing around with, of all the people in the universe, his goddamn half-brother?

“Kanato.” Noritoshi slides open the door to the training rooms. It’s pretty big, stored with various weapons, targets and dummies to practise with, and lined with a soft mattress to break falls. Noritoshi was just here to shoot some arrows when he chanced upon this scene. “I did not know that you were here.”

All three of you noted that Noritoshi called his elder half-brother by his name. Yes, Noritoshi did rank higher than Kanato, but he was still younger in age. So it’s like that, huh, Noritoshi?

“It’s a big house, Noritoshi-san. It’s hard to keep track of everyone.” Noritoshi watches as Kanato winks at you and you laugh again, a blush on your face. (“Everyone, including your young wife.”)  “I was just teaching my little sister here the basics of karate. Since she’s going to Jujutsu High and all.”

“I see.” Noritoshi’s voice is measured. For the first time, it clicks in your head that he might not be happy seeing you so comfortable with his half-brother. And for whatever reason, you actually feel a little bad about it. “I’ll finish her lessons today then, Kanato. Why don’t you go rest a bit? You'd need it, I presume.” It’s clear that there’s bad blood between the brothers. Both just toe the line between politeness and hostility. 

“Presume less, little brother, you worry too much about me. I’m afraid I’ll have to finish her lessons myself, though.” Kanato grins wide. “Since she asked me to, herself.” 

For a second, you think they’ll throw hands (they don’t). You’re starting to think that it isn’t even about you. They simply cannot stand each other. In that case, you choose to pipe up, “I think I’d like to retire actually, I’m tired. Thank you for the tutorial, onii-chan.” You smile at Kanato, who returns the smile, and turn to appease your husband. “Noritoshi-san, if you could help me to my chambers?”

“Of course.” Noritoshi gives you an arm. You wave Kanato good-bye as you walk down the long corridors to your room. As soon as you two are out of earshot, his words bite. “Antagonising me will get you nowhere.”

You get it, really. Kanato’s very existence ruffles all of Noritoshi’s feathers. And to see him get this questionably friendly with his wife… yeah, it’s best not to mention the crush at all. You decide that even though you haven’t done anything wrong per se, but it’s still hurtful to Noritoshi. All right then, you decide. I’ll humour him this one time. 

So imagine his surprise when he actually hears you apologise. You've never been anything but rude or indifferent to him; to hear you say that you didn’t realise how your actions looked on the outside, and promise that you won’t be like that again! It genuinely shocks Noritoshi out of the sulky angry mood he’d slipped into. Rule 4: Always reward any good behaviour. 

Noritoshi gets you two things: another plate of dango and a promise to teach you to spar himself. Maybe, you decide, cheeks full of sweet dango, it’s okay to be nice to Noritoshi, just now and then.

bonus:

“Noritoshi’s still being an ass, I see. Not a lot’s changed here.” Kanato is lazily scrounging through his mother’s collection of jewellery. Kanato likes the more minimalistic ones, a tad bit on the high-fashion hippie line. Miyumi is happy to oblige her son, despite his father’s disapproval. Not like he approves of Kanato in any way. Not since Noritoshi, the perfect son, exists. Besides, he’ll be back to England soon. 

Miyumi’s eyes sharpen at his mention. “My god, did that brat do something to you again? I swear, I–”

“Whoa, mother, no.” Kanato, ever smiling, calms her down. “He was just super jealous that I was training with that kid. y/n. Honestly, mother, I think it was adorable. I just don’t like the way he speaks to me.”

“He has no manners. Do you know he goes out of his way to avoid me?” Miyumi sees her son pick up two lockets, one a Kamo family crest engraved on hard mahogany, another a pattern of ducks in emeralds and rubies. “Don’t bother choosing, take both.” 

“You sure, mother? I’ll kidnap some of your earrings too.”

“Yes, yes, when do I even wear them? Just don’t get them rusted.”

Kanato smiles.

next chapter: #8 - Ice-Cream Date

a/n: are they.. no i shan't say it... warming up... caring about each other's feelings... oh my...

what if reader gets jealous? here u go: Hey Handsome!

img

[edibleashell]

TUA S4 feels

Pretty sure that Umbrella Academy S4 finale left a permanent scar on my psyche. Still one of my favorite shows but I might just end after season 3 in future rewatches. So many issues with S4.

In like episode 1 we got Ben and Jennifer touching and that started a countdown to the end of the world and the whole season was just junk to fill that time. So many good ideas that weren't done properly at all. Shuffling their powers? Alternate timelines? Hargreaves owning pretty much everything? Abigail just being alive? Pointless.

Luther was just a repeating loop of stripper and home decorating jokes.

Diego should have been a martial arts instructor or something not a depressed delivery guy. A bunch of jokes about him getting out of shape only to reveal that he's still jacked. He throws a potted plant and misses. His arc is just Big Sad for no reason and the relationships he built in the first three seasons were apparently irrelevant, if anyone would have been taking care of Safety Klaus it would have been him.

Allison's character was just an accessory to Klaus, after three seasons of her trying to reclaim the family she lost she ended up spending more time as a tool to Klaus's arc than she did with Claire. And Ray just being casually written out was so disrespectful.

Klaus, oh poor Klaus, my favorite character, what did they do to you? He should have been a nurse or something but instead he was paranoid, then pissed off because the writers decided that Klaus would equate marigold with drugs and just fall right off the wagon? And then he goes to some sketchy guy he owes money to even though S1 Klaus is shown just buying drugs from random people? All to justify his prisoner plot, none of which had any real impact. And he can fly for a second for some reason. Okay.

Five working for the CIA was bad. He should have been the retired fun uncle to Claire and Grace. After spending fifty years trying to get back to his family why did he keep leaving them? Why did he hook up with his brother's wife after only six years? And am I supposed to believe that in every timeline he has the same haircut? That none of the other Fives lost their arm? How did he never notice his boss's blatant umbrella tattoo? He just casually strolls through "his" apocalypse as though he doesn't have ptsd, and why were he and Lila living off sewer rats when they had infinite timelines to scavenge?

I was so excited to see Ben witg the family but one episode in he becomes a bomb and fucks off with a girl who can hardly be called a character.

Viktor was the only character I thought got some form of authenticity and justified growth, his arc kind of seemed like a ripoff of S3 Klaus though. And we missed out on what could have been a really beautiful scene of him drawing the upside down umbrella on his arm.

Lila went from "I don't want to be like my mom" to a motherhood cliche. And what was the deal with her family? She just found her parents and they immediately accepted her or something? Was there another Lila in this universe? That made no sense. If anyone would have joined the CIA it would have been her. Her and Diego should have been weird parents teaching their kids how to fight and kill but instead they got some domestic life that those characters never belonged in.

And there's so much more! Abigail is alive? Hardly relevant. Why did she body snatched Gene, it didn't really seem to change anything. The Keepers existed only to be a minor obstacle in the last episode. And are her and Reggie aliens? Why? How? What's the point?

AND DURANGO? THAT'S A CAR! Harland named marigold and for a farm kid that makes sense (though the retconned acceptance of that word into Umbrella vocabulary was irksome) But Durango? Abigail is a scientist and she names The Bad Dust after an SUV? Why?

AND WHY WAS THERE ZERO QUEERNESS? Each of the first three seasons had some sort of queer arc but not this one. I still wonder if some higher-up didn't intentionally assassinate the show as backlash for the immense respect S3 gave Elliot Page.

One last thing, music is a big part of the show, they've always put such thought and care into the soundtrack and it makes sense knowing who the creators are, so why, of all songs, was Baby Damn Shark the first song to be featured in like three episodes? It seems intentionally disrespectful.

I'm done, rant over, I'll never recover from this.

[the-lavender-clown]

i’m genuinely curious if tails would want to be trained in the ways of the echidna warrior, or if knuckles would even feel the need to train him. sonic’s not a factor in this since he has main character syndrome, but tails is easily the least physically strong of the three, although then again being more brain than brawn has gotten them out of trouble quite often, and someone like wade is merely a normal human

I can see Knuckles at the very least wanting to make sure Tails can defend him without his gadgets. Like throw a proper punch, how to block and dodge punches, and how to properly break a fall so he doesn’t get hurt

I think Knuckles would consider full on echidna warrior training to be up to Tails tho. Tails is not an echidna so part of his new tribe or not Knuckles doesn’t have the right to force him to do more complex training techniques that the Echidna were known for unless he asks or agrees to it like Wade did

Knuckles is probably pretty content with not training Tails tho because he knows the kit is quite capable of handling himself at the end of the day and him being caught without one of his inventions to use is unlikely. He just worries slightly as any older brother would but at least if Tails is ever in a situation where he’s not able to defend himself then Knuckles will be right there to do it for him

Adding in a headcanon real quick I think that the Echidna’s had their own martial arts that the warriors were trained in and it was also required to know how to use a weapon of some kind. Knowing more than one was probably preferred but as long as you’re at least proficient in a couple you can devote most of your training to one. Some Echidna’s preferred to use just their fists like Knuckles so they focused hard on becoming true masters of their martial arts but knowing how to use a spear, bow and arrow, or a blow dart never hurts. That being said I think Knuckles knows how to use a spear as well as bows and arrows but he just doesn’t use them often because they’re easy to lose or break when on the run and relying on his power and fists was just easier. Would be interesting to see everyone’s reactions if they went to a shooting range and Knuckles just keep getting bullseye after bullseye, maybe even splitting an arrow 😂

God forbid Tails teach Knuckles how to use some of his gadgets. It’s probably a good thing that Knuckles’ hands are too big to handle those tiny things

[starglaee]

Kwon Jae-Sung's Life Story and Arc (my headcanons)

I can't help thinking that Kwon could have been such a better villain (and/or misunderstood fan favorite) had the writers actually decided to care about his development and taken the time to flesh out why he does such extreme things. This is especially what I appreciate about the interviews with Kwon's actor, Brandon H. Lee, where he gives his interpretation of the character's motivations and arc. So based on these interviews (primarily from Lone Lobos, shoutout Xolo and Jacob) and my own imagination, I've come up with some... I guess "headcanons" is the term for this.

Kwon Jae-Sung:

He's the youngest of seven brothers, all which have also gone through the same dojang

While this is impressive, they are all only a second generation family in Cobra Kai while others go back multiple generations

His father is rich but also abusive and holds all the power in the home

Kwon is used to covering up and taking care of his injuries after years of being beaten; he tells himself it only makes him stronger

His father was taught by Master Kim and requires each of his sons to follow in his footsteps

His mother is loving but quiet and powerless at home

He spent years trying to prove his worth to his family, only to be constantly ignored by all except his mother

His favorite brother is the third youngest, and they had a strong connection until he got married and moved away

Kwon felt invisible at home and with his family, which is why he began acting out; any attention is better than no attention

Even with his father, at least he was getting recognized enough to get beaten and yelled at

This also led to a lot of heartfelt conversations with his mom, though she usually did all the talking while he tried to keep his emotions inside

It took a long time before Kwon even understood that this regular abuse - verbal, physical, and emotional - is not normal for a parent to do and that it's not just an expected thing

His angry and competitive nature followed him to the dojang - and so did his father's legacy

He was taught more discipline, especially when he grew older and the last of his brothers moved on from martial arts and school to pursue higher education or work (but still lived at their parents' house until they married)

He's a natural-born athlete and fighter; he never really struggled with the physical aspects of lessons

He has a rage within him that only grew when he realized he was being abused and then more when he realized there's truly no way out of it until he can leave home

His potential at the dojang is recognized but he is not trusted as a leader (until Kreese) because of his unpredictable behavior

His grades in school are low because he barely applies himself and often causes trouble; he would probably be acing his classes if he did try

As the problem child and even class clown, he has people who like him, but he always ends up alone at the end of the day

He's convinced himself he's fine with being a loner at school, the dojo, and home

Yoon's family legacy at the dojang automatically puts him at the top of the class. Every year. The superiority complex and favoritism he has infuriates Kwon

Each punishment given by his senseis - such as cleaning Master Kim's toilet - just makes him wonder if the outside world also sees him as this bothersome kid who deserves harsh treatment rather than someone capable of being a star at karate or school or anything if he'd just be given the chance

When Kreese arrives, he's given that chance

So Kwon proves he's powerful in the only way he was ever taught: violence

He takes the captaincy from Yoon under Kreese's direction and proves he is the more skilled fighter

He's exactly the kind of student Kreese can prey on and mold to be a champion of the way of the fist

Kwon is ecstatic when presented the chance to fight in a world karate tournament

Even his brothers didn't get to do that

His father is reluctant to let him go because he still sees Kwon as immature - despite his new status as captain - and because there is a lack of control from afar

His mother, on the other hand, is so supportive. She actually stands up to her husband and advocates for Kwon's right to go

To their surprise, the father gives in - primarily for the extra status it will give them. His mother helps him pack for the trip

The goodbye is not a warm one, however. He goes to the airport on his own to meet his team

On the flight to Barcelona, he finds that Yoon and the others have a big respect for Kwon now as he has truly proved himself to be the best at demonstrating and executing "no mercy"

Yoon is actually thrilled that he no longer has this huge weight on his shoulders and is conveniently leaving the country when his parents were so, so, so mad

When they arrive in Barcelona, Kreese introduces (a secretly grieving) Tory on the mats. This is their first introduction to her

Kwon is irritated every time Tory closes herself off and disappears; he does not think she is worthy of being their captain

In the hotel, Kwon gets a kick out of the Americans - and the American mohawk. He's seen American tourists in South Korea making fun of their culture by simplifying it to just K-Pop. Now the Americans are making fun of themselves

Then Kwon realizes he can combine his power and love for shenanigans at this tournament

So he taunts Robby in his breakup with Tory and fabricates lies

He even gets his own room out of a challenge he created the first day

Meanwhile, each loss he gets in the tournament is a big blow to his ego

His father's words echo in his head as Kreese coaches him to be a merciless fighter and person

He'll never admit it but he becomes homesick - for his mother specifically - as he has never been away from them this long

He knows he must make his mother proud, too

He trains extra hard while also keeping things messy for his opponents, as shown through the scene at the bar

He only cares about Tory when she wins for them; he's really not invested in anyone but himself

He can't be with the way his dad calls him every day to remind him not to be a screw up... again

He also does not care about whatever love thing Sensei Kim has and whatever rivalry Sensei Kreese has

The fight with Robby - where he loses big time and causes them to go home - is a devastating turning point for Kwon

He did none of what he set out to do; they are leaving as an embarrassment to Cobra Kai and South Korea and to his family

So when Cobra Kai returns to the top 4 on a technicality, Kwon is ready for revenge more than anything

He attacks Robby in his fight with Axel, getting a kick out of making him suffer now, too

When the brawl begins, Kwon is free to let out all his pent-up rage on anyone who comes close to him

Rage from his dad's abuse, mother's forced silence, hurt ego, and life of trying to emerge from his father and brothers' shadows

He's actually winning and fighting quite well until Robby comes at him again

And then Axel

And then he's shoved into a camera

He's humiliated on live TV for the world to see

For his father to see

This blinding rage consumes him

He's no longer himself, he thinks

And if he is, it's only because he was made this way

So he goes to end the fight in the only way he knows how

But there's one misstep

And the knife goes through his chest as the world watches

As his senseis watch

As his enemies watch

As his father watches

As his mother watches

At least now he isn't ignored

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Bayverse Headcanon: What kind of music do they like?

Idk why I had to do this, but I just had to.

Also, one day I might make more detailed versions of these scenarios.

Warning: Long af, spelling bc I'm dyslexic.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Leonardo:

There are a few sides to the leader in blue. The part that sits in the dojo for hours, meditating in complete silence. Probably one of the few things he had to practice on - meditating with noises all around him. And then there’s the part of him that listens to music, while doing mundane things. Whether it would be cleaning his room, taking a shower, a warm up before training or just chilling in his room or on the rooftops. Leo do enjoy music a lot, he just has clear rules for when he can hear it. No modern music in the dojo! Martial arts should be honored, and to do it in other that silence would be an insult to the arts and the old masters. But outside of the dojo, it would be possible to find Leo with a pair of headphones on every once in a while.

Leo is a rock kid. Not heavy metal - no - that is just not Leo’s kind of music. But old school rock and maybe even glam rock. It was usually music with prominent guitar or bass that he often found himself listening to. It kind of fitted the way he saw himself. Th stoic leader on the rooftop, fighting with an edgy soundtrack in his head. Edgy and cool being the way he described it in his own head. It gave him a slight tingle in his stomach, when he jumped from roof to roof with his headphones on, listening to certain rock songs. He felt like a true leader, jumping high over people’s head, listening to “Zitti E Buoni” by Måneskin. When really feeling it alone in the shower, with the same song booming from his blue bluetooth speaker, he would channel his inner Damiano David, singing along to the fast part without any mistakes. Now, Leo is not usually the one to sing along to songs. He doesn't even hum that often, but when he does, it is usually in the shower. But there was this one time Raph walked past the bathroom, while Leo was screaming his heart out to a Måneskin song. Usually Raph would find a way to make fun of his brother for such a thing, but this time Raph decided not to, mainly because it didn’t sound near as bad as Raph though Leo’s singing would do.

Another artist Leo would be singing along to in the shower is Micheal Jackson. He might even do a few dance moves, but he would NEVER IN HIS LIFE, do them outside of a locked bathroom.

One of Leo’s favorite bands had to be Blur. He really liked Damon Albarn’s voice and the guitar of Graham Coxon, and would often find himself listening to them before going to bed. At one point, Leo even tried to sneak out to see all of Blur play live. Did he get in? Yes. Did he watch them from somewhere just below the roof? Yes. Did the bassist spot Leo, blink in confusion, only to look back up to find the spot Leo had been hiding in empty, with Leo having fled the scene? Yes, and that’s why Leo doesn’t do concerts anymore. But he never told his brothers. Mikey would not be happy to know that Leo had sneaked into a concert, while having told Mikey time and time again that he wasn’t allowed to.

Leo has a thing for languages when it comes to music. He grew up in New York City with English as his first language, with Japanese from Splinter following right after as his second. He decided to learn Spanish, just in case it would get useful, and since he had an Italian first name, he also learned Italien. That would probably explain some of his love for Måneskin. But Leo just really liked languages. He doesn’t have to understand the lyrics in order to enjoy it. One prime example of that is the song “Stefania” by KALUSH and Kalush orchestra, even though it is hip hop in genre. Did Leo understand any Ukrainian? Nope. But did he have a general idea of what the song was about, and found the Ukrainian language beautiful and interesting? Yes, very much. He found the courage of Ukraine inspiring, and would often use that inspiration in his training, which is why this is one of the very few songs he will actually train to outside of warm ups.

A true bedroom song for Leo is “Demoni” by Joker Out. He wouldn’t do much while listening to that. He would just lay in bed with headphones one, eyes closed while either bobbing his head or right foot to the beat. Leo isn't much of a dancer, but more a bobber. That was usually how his brothers knew if he liked a certain song; he would bob his head slightly to the beat. That only fueled Mikey’s imagination, creating a picture in his head of Leo head banging in his room to heavy metal, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Stoic Leo didn’t head bang, but he did move at least his head or foot lightly.

Now, what does Leo’s brothers like about his music taste? Well, to be honest, most of the time they weren’t too sure what kind of music Leo liked. They did know that he was into rock, and they knew very well that at this point that he liked Måneskin and Micheal Jackson. But there was this one time while driving the garbage truck, that Leo somehow got in charge of the aux. None of the guys really knew what to expect, but “Gladiator” by Jann wasn’t it. Mikey even said something along the lines of; “emo Leo doesn’t listen to My Chemical Romance”, causing Leo to remember once again, why he normally didn’t want to be in charge of the aux, and liked keeping his music to himself.

Raphael:

Raph listens to music quite often. Probably not as often as Mikey, but still at way more than Donnie and Leo. One of the main reasons why Raph listens to so much music is - you probably guessed it - training. He would often lift his weights to the beat of the music, in a way that most humans could only dream of doing. But he would also listen to music on his own, either riding his motorcycle through the streets of New York City at night, or while knitting in his room.

A favorite song of Raphael’s to ride his motorcycle to was “Would You Ever” by Skrillex and Poo Bear. Swerving in and out of traffic, causing people to yell in anger in his direction, or causing groups of girls to giggle and point at the mysterious bad boy that just rode past them. Covered in a helmet and covered in a big leather jacket and cloves, he looks like a big hunk of a man, showing off his motorcycle. But would Raph play his music out loud while riding down the street? Normally he would not. But there was this one time he just couldn’t help himself. Stopping at a red light, Raph found himself beside an open roofed car, filled with giggling human girls. Most of them were tipsy, and Raph wouldn’t be too surprised if the girl in front of the steering wheel was too. Obviously, they had something for big guys, as they started asking about his name, how old he was, where he lived, or if they could get a ride on his motorcycle. Or if he would come ride with them. Raph didn’t say anything, he just pressed a button on his motorcycle, causing the music to disconnect from his helmet, and started playing from his motorcycle speakers. He saluted them, just as the light turned green, riding away while the girls stared at him in awe. In his opinion, it was very much worth it.

Raph has quite a few songs he liked lifting weights to. One of them being “Hello” by Will.I.Am. When Raphael is lifting weights, he will do it proud and loud, playing his music on a red speaker, much to the annoyance of Leonardo, who very much wants to meditate. When it came to boxing, Raph would often listen to Eminem, hyping himself up with the music or the angry lyrics, causing Mikey to ask him what the hell Eminem had done to him, since he would get the need to hit something whenever he heard his voice.

Raph would almost always find a reason to listen to Eminem. When Raph was angry and wanted to hit something; “Kamikaze”. Should Raph ever find himself mad at a woman; “Farewell”. Was Raph ever in a good mood and just wanted to dance and have fun; “Shake that”. But somehow, when Raph was sad, he wouldn’t listen to Emniem. If he was sad and decided to box, he would listen to The Weeknd. Mikey caught on to that pretty fast, and would do his little brother duty to bring up Raph’s mood, whenever he would hear the voice of The Weeknd from Raph's room.

Like Leo, Raph would also listen to music while showering. But it was while being alone in the bathroom, that Raph would listen to much that wasn’t often associated with big angry muscle men like him. It would often be more pop than electronic or hip hop. And god, how Raph hoped none of his brothers would hear him sing along to “i don’t wanna talk about love”, by Micheal Medrano. Raphael could just shut up and shower in silence, but nope, a man got to groove in the shower. Luckily for Raph, only Donnie had heard him once. Had Donnie laughed his ass off as soon as he got to his room afterwards? Yes, oh my god yes he had. But did he tell Mikey and Leo about it? Nope, he did not. But he did tell April and you about it though, and what a laugh you guys had over the phone.

Raph would never admit it to anyone, but he did listen to Madonna, and he did enjoy it. It started with “Future” by Madonna and Quavo, and before he knew it, he was sitting in his room enjoying both “Like A Prayer” and “Like A Virgin”, which led to him singing “Hung Up” in the shower. Madonna would lead to Dua Lipa, and before Raph even realized what was happening, half of his playlist would be pop power women. Loreen, Lady Gaga, old Miley Cyrus songs. And did he know the lyrics? Oh yes he did. And one time, his brothers would catch him listening to at least one of them.

It was one of those days where each turtle seemed to be doing their own thing, which left Raph alone with his work out equipment and his speaker. As usual it started out with Eminem, Juicy J, Kanye West and others, before suddenly “Rendez Vouz” by INNA. That caught Mikey’s attention, and once he heard and saw Raph dance and sing along from his hiding spot, he went to find Leo and Donnie. And oh, how they fought to keep from laughing when Raph started feeling himself too much, working out to “Work Bitch” by Brittney Spears. After that, the phrase “get to work bitch”, was used quite often around Raph.

Donatello:

The purple scientist is very straightforward with his taste in music. If he likes it, he listens to it. He often has music playing while doing stuff in his lab. Sometimes calming lofi music in hopes that it could get him sleepy, but that usually didn’t work very often. Instead Donnie would often find himself listening to music from the indie scene, or what some people on the internet might call vibey music. Aesthetic music. What aesthetic, you might ask? Well, Donnie had no idea, and he most differently thought that the internet had no idea either. One of these so-called vibe or aesthetic pop songs was “HEAVEN AND BACK” by Chase Atlantic. Tapping away on his computer or connecting whatever hard drive, he found that the music helped him concentrate at the task in front of him.

Though Donnie didn’t seem to notice, his brothers did. Most of the songs he listened to had some not so happy lyrics. Often quite depressive, covered over with bass, keyboard, drum kit and sometimes even a saxophone. At one point Leo had brought this concern up with Donnie, causing the purple turtle shrug.

“Music is music. I listen to what I like”, he said, making another cup of coffee, before going back to work in his lab.

Those few times Donnie finally left his lab to relax in his room, he would read a book, listen to songs like “Quite Quitting” by NOT A TOY. To Donnie, music was mainly background noise, helping him to shut out his loud brothers so he could focus. What the lyrics said didn’t bother him too much. But there is one thing Donnie notices in most of the music he listens to; a smooth bass. It didn’t have to be a loud bass, often becoming part of the background with the drums, being overshadowed by smooth special effects or the singing. Donnie really like bass, but he also like smooth keyboards. There had been times where he had thought of getting a bass or keyboard, or maybe even make them himself. Mikey had his drum set, so Donnie might as well get a few instruments of his own.

Like Leo, Donnie liked to listen to music on the rooftops every once in a while. But unlike his brother, Donnie would usually stay at the same roof, remembering the names of stars, plants and constellations on the sky above him, while listening to songs like “ALIENS” by The Griswolds and Transviolet, wearing big soft headphones. Comfort over looks was important for Donnie, and being a mutant turtle hiding from the people of New York City, he didn’t give a crap about what his headphones look like. He thought they were nice, and he likes to wear them, and that was enough for him. His brothers, on the other hand, thought they were chunky and strange, to which he could only say it was good they were his headphones and not theirs. And it was at nights like those, that Donnie thought of how, maybe his brothers were right about his taste in music. He might be a little different from them, like how the alien was described in the song he was listening to. Not that he worried too much about it. He liked his head and the brain inside it, and with that came being different. That’s just how it was.

But not all the music Donnie listens to is filled with sadness and depression. Songs such as “Strange Clouds” by ufo ufo were a good morning song according to Donnie. When he woke up after finally having had a full night's sleep, he would listen to songs like that, while making breakfast or making his coffee. But then later in the day, sitting in front of the computer screen, once again not being able to sleep, he would listen to stuff like “Numb” by 8 graves. It was the lyrics from that song that had made Leo’s alarm bells ring. Mikey on the other hand wasn’t too worried. He just called Donnie’s music taste “calm edge lord, that doesn’t need to try hard”.

Now, if there was one artist Donatello had to say was his favorite, it would probably be Mystery Skulls, especially “Stronger”. A nice bass in front and center, backed up with synth all around. But Donnie also really liked Luke Black. Way different from all the other music Donnie would listen to, yet he really liked it. He would probably never admit it to his brothers, but he did listen to the lyrics of Luke Black, and he did find it more than a little interesting.

Michelangelo:

Mikey - or as he like to call himself; DJ Mikey - listens to music all the time, every day, everywhere, rarely turning down for the sake of any of his brothers, blasting it oh so loud on his orange speaker, only putting headphones on if his brothers threatened him. Or if Master Splinter asked him to.

He sang along, danced along, sometimes even to the embarrassment of others, like the many times he would scream along to “Turn It Up” by Oliver Tree, Little Big and Tommy Cash.

Mikey likes big, loud and up beat music. Something he can move his body to and be his little happy self. It could be anything from pop to hip hop, maybe even electronic or EDM. It would usually consist of him listening to the same few songs over and over again, until he is getting slightly tired of them, while his brothers are ready to rip their heads off, or maybe dig into their skulls to rip their ears out.

With Mikey being his small ADHD self, it wouldn’t be strange for him to listen to music made by people with ADHD for people with ADHD, making a big deal out of it. One of those songs being “Irresponsible” by Emei. There was this one time he almost made Donnie deaf by blasting the song into his ears while scream: "This song is made for me!"

Much to Leo’s annoyance, Mikey didn’t follow his rule of “no music in the dojo”, since Mikey often found it easier to train with music. This man can do all of his katas perfectly, if only “Hypnodancer” by Little Big is playing in the background.

If there is one thing Mikey likes, it is listening to “Pac-man” by Gorillaz, and making eating pizza into his own version of pac man, in which his brothers are the ghosts, and he has to steal pizza from them. At this point, his older brothers know to keep a good eye on their food as soon as that song starts playing... Or if he just plays Gorillaz at all.

Another thing Mikey likes when it comes to music, is when his brothers somehow enjoy what he’s playing. It had happened before, and it would most likely happen again. Mikey sat in the middle of the lair, happily dancing where he sat while reading comics, playing “Go Bananas” by Little Big. Raph didn’t growl at him from his bench press, but instead started to lift the weights on every other beat. Donnie sat at his computer, pressing the keys of his keyboard in beat with the song, probably without noticing. And Leo was bobbing his head ever so slightly while sharpening his katanas. This had Mikey over the moon, which only caused him to want to play more music for his brothers. Every once in a while they would let him do it, just to make their little brother happy. That was the main reason why Mikey is the aux guy.

When Mikey decided to skateboard, he would most often do it with old school hip hop playing. As a turtle in the sewers of New York, that only made sense to him, which is why he often would skate up and down the sewers, vibing with “The Message” by Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five. And of course Mikey could rap the whole thing. Now, this was one of those few songs that Leo, Raph and Donnie didn’t mind Mikey playing over and over again.

But then there were those times on patrol where Mikey just would start singing out of nowhere. When he started breaking into “Sax” by Fleur East, complete with thought out dance moves in the way only Mikey could do it, Raph was ready to throw him off the roof and down to ongoing traffic.

It would be no surprise to tell you that one of Mikey’s favorite artists is Little Big, and that he also loves Gorillaz. But he would also quite often listen to the music that his brothers were playing. He very well knew that Leo loved listening to Blur, and that most of Raph’s playlist was made up of power women, and that Donnie’s secret favorite was Luke Black. And of course Mikey could sing every single word to the songs of his brothers' favorite artists, being the little attentive brother that he is. And because his music taste had room for more than theirs had.

—----------------------------------------------------------

You can tell I’m European, can’t you?

[mqnill]

I'm gonna rank all the enemies of Ultrakill cuz I'm bored.

Btw I am a noob and played only on harmless

Filth - 10/10

Nice goobers, basically walking french fries. I can never get mad at them, because how could I be mad at my best healers in this game? They are really cute and are pretty nice. I give them big hug after they take a bite of me! :3 (One punch them for fuel because damn that mouth might've as well ate me as a whole)

Stray -8/10

A bit annoying, considering they get to stand and shoot fireballs at me and move their asses from time to time. Luckily, they're too slow and suck at aiming unless I stand in one place. Great fuel and quite noticeable throughout the game (Until 7 layer, these babies are so similar looking to these fuck ass mannequins)

Schism - 6/10

Strays but upgrade I guess. Too much attitude backed up with unnecessary annyoing ability to live after charged blue shot. Hard to swallow pill. Although they have a noticeable for some reason butt. Idk why but okay?

Soldier - 5/10

That fucking bird that I hate. Would be a nice food, if it wouldn't kick me across the country. Ew.

Stalker - 7/10

Literally don't care about this.

Sisyphean Inssurectionist - 8/10

A tad bit irritating creature, always pushing me on the hot burning sand but it is fun to jump around. Reminded me of an old game on my playground where you stand on edges of sandbox and in the middle of it there is a "Shark" (kid that lost in rock, paper, scissors). This creature is a shark and well, no wonder it lost. I would too if I would only pick rock! Lol loser

Ferryman - 7/10

He was lightning, before the thunder. Confusing bone martial art master that goes up on some building, trying to strike me down with lightning. The dissaperance trick was fun, until I jumped out in the water, thinking he was hiding from me there. I died. Not cool killing me like that, dude. Be fair. Play nice.

Malicious Face - 8/10

Again, this flying fuck pisses me off, but it's a great healing thingy that needs only 100 nails (usually) to fall dead. Although, it is a shame it has to spit in me with fire. Nasty. I'm not into that kind of thing.

Cerberus - 5/10

I'm pretty sure Cerberus is a dog with three heads from Greek myhtology, so no idea why this overgrown football player has that name. This NFL fanatic throws his stupid ball at me and takis his big boy steps to get me, but I'm faster, this is when he stomps angrily instead of communicating his issues with me. Smartest man-looking creature that enjoys any games with ball. Fun to disrespect, not fun when he throws me away like he'd throw a deodorant if someone would offer him that.

Hideous Mass - 8/10

Perhaps hideous, but gives great piggy rides. Nice lobster, but I don't like seafood. Nothing more.

Idol - 5/10

Doesn't even hurt me, but god did you really have to put my food in zipper plastic bags so I couldn't eat them? (Puts some protection spell on other enemies, most often Virtue) Low blow.

Mannequin - 0/10

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!! FUCK AHHGHGHHGHGGH I HOPE YOU AND ALL YOUR SPECIES DIE OUT LIKE A PATHETIC COCKROACH IMMITATORS YOU ARE!!!!! Scary, creepy, hard, fast? That is supposed to me. I am the war machine that sends horror in souls and their non-existent hearts. You fucking fucks, stayed out till 7th layer to make my life difficult. I better not see your asses anymore!!!! You all will be executed on the spot. I hope you know that you are an unwanted creatures, a poor imitation of anything and you deserve nothing but to rot behind closed doors, posed in worst yoga posses you can imagine. DIE!!!!

Swordsmachine - 10/10

It may be hard to beat, but idc. I love it. So pretty, so beautiful, so fashionate. Oh wow. I missedyou, sweetheart, missed this robot from the 1st layer, been thinking about their glorious attacks and cute rushing to hit me with their arm. Had to pause a game because they were just so... so... mwah.

Drone - 7/10

One eyed poor Shockwave parody. Go boom and kill all your brothers around you, loser. Doesn't even heal and explodes.

Streetcleaner - 9/10

Just one point away because they set me on fire and that's not really nice. But overall great bots, really sweet and they sound soooo cuteee. WAHHHHHH I WANNA KISS AND HUG THEM SO BAD!!! They deserve a big hug you people!!! (Swordsmachine got some competition)

Mindflayer - 7,5/10

Pesky cyan plastic-metal woman. Okay, you teleport, okay, you shoot blue faces that haunt me until they hit the wall (why would you inspirate mannequins like that), we got it. But dying with exploding yourself after I hit you twice with taser? A bit dramatic. Somehow slay, and somehow go fuck yourself, no need to be such a hard target, just stay still, will you?

Sentry - 5/10

I don't like them, but I don't hate them.

Gutterman - 2/10

Fat ass metal discord mod harassing my innocent poor soul. Kicks me across the galaxy, doesn't heal, have a stupid shield (okay cap america enjoyer) but it won't protect you from me. I will still fry these assholes with my taser. Womp womp, die faster.

Guttertank 0/10

Annoying stupid fucking huge discord mod's brother that got mad. CRY ME A RIVER (full of blood so I could use it as a fuel) AND DIE!!!

Virtue - 9/10

Nice healing thingy that explodes, thanks man, but stop trying to destroy me with holy light. It's not difficult to dodge, I'm just lazy and would prefer if I didn't have to do much with beating common enemies.

V2 - 10/10

I love this guy. So silly. So goofy. Hard to fight because that's a literal copycat of me, but hey!!! They're fun and that is all that matters (get coin in the face goofball). Got me a good arm to deal with Discord mods and another good arm to swing around like Spiderman.. But I miss the guy, they died because of me and it's so sad that I won't see them again 💔

The Corpse of King Minos - 10/10

Dapped up this guy so hard he died and healed my scoliosis. Hope he heals his brainworms wizards with fireballs that popped out of his eyes. I don't want that much eye contact buddy.

Gabriel - 10/10

Aside of his obvious attractiveness, a really fun guy!! I beat his ass, he got fired by upper angels and was supposed to die in 24hr unless he kills me (deadline is for real DEADline here), we fight again, I win, he has a moment of realisation, goes and kills his epmloyers, all upper angels, that stupid Council and then shows the beheaded to the public. Awesome. THE GOAT (greatest of them all) fr fr. We love you Gabriel

Leviathan - 5/10

I don't like sea food, I don't like baby faces. But fight wasn't that hard.

Minotaur - 3/10

Why the hell is he chasing me on my train?! Go touch some grass or smth idk

1000-THR Defense System - 7/10

Fun, easy, but confusing. Yet not exciting.

1000-THR Earthmover - 1/10

It was sickening and depressing to fight this Evangelion boss. So many parkour, stupid pests, scary heights I had to go through, no, jump through. But the last cry of this metal creature? Healed me better than anything.

Flesh Prison ?-10

has goofy ahh loking mouth (im not feeding you) no pic doesnt deserve it

Minos Prime - 3/10

Not gonna fight this guy cuz I no no wanna. Besides, this isn't transformers, you are not a prime, you look like a long lost father of The Spot from spiderverse, unserious and unneeded use of "thy" (ok medieval grandpa), bet you are no fun.

Flesh Panopticon - 0/10

what are you. why are you.

SIsyphus Prime - 4/10

Agai, this is not transphormers, but he has a fun voiceline so I'll allow his existence I guess

[mirai-e-jump]

Hero Vision Vol.14 (2004/Spring) ft. Kamen Rider Blade Cast Interviews Ryoji Moromoto x Makoto Ito (Suit Actor) Segment (translation below)

Publication: May 20, 2004 (between episodes 17-18) Ryoji Moromoto (Hajime Aikawa) x Makoto Ito (Chalice Suit Actor)

"When did you two first meet?"

Ito: When? (laughs)

Moromoto: When we first met? I'm pretty sure it was before filming started. My first impression of Ito-san was that he was, "A kind big bro."

Ito: He made me think, "This year's also going to turn out cool" (laughs).

Moromoto: We talked alot about Chalice back then. You said, "Chalice has existed for 10,000 years, so I want to show you 10,000 years worth of my career." What were some of the other things you said again?

Ito:……not much, I really don't remember (laughs).

Moromoto: Ahaha! One thing we have in common, is that we have similar bikes, don't we? We've talked about how we want to go (motorcycle) touring together after the show ends. I ride a Yamaha SR400 and, ah...I'm sorry……(Note: The bikes used in Kamen Rider are provided by Honda)

Ito:…Sorry, but I'm also a WR250F (Yamaha) rider~, but before that, it's always been a Honda! I'd love to see Moromoto-kun's rumored SR. I've heard that they're loud and rather slow……

Moromoto: That's right! I actually modified it too much, and now it can only go about 80kph (50mph) (laughs). Right now, I'm too busy to work on it. I feel like my love for it is fading~!

"What were your first impressions of Chalice?"

Moromoto: I received a call from my agency, saying I passed the audition with, "You're Heart." "Eh?! You mean Momorenger?!," I was so surprised and alittle bit intimidated (laughs), but when I saw the design in person, it was cool and I liked it alot because it was something I had never seen before.

Ito: When I was first told about it, I jokingly thought, "Heart……(sinking in)…ah, alright then, I'll just act like a gay guy……" But, after seeing the design, I was relieved and thought about what kind of pose would suit this Rider. My first thought when I read his setup, was that it would be nice to have something wild and different from the other Riders. Compared to G3-X in "Kamen Rider Agito" and Knight in "Kamen Rider Ryuki," this is the wildest work I've ever done. Even with Kaixa in "Kamen Rider 555," I tried to keep martial arts like movements in mind, and to avoid any unnecessary movements. But with Chalice, there's just so many unnecessary movements…(laughs).

Moromoto: That's why I also tried to make the movements bigger in that fight scene (episode 9).

"Morimoto-san, "Hajime Aikawa is not a normal human being," what do you pay attention to when playing such a role?"

Moromoto: When my heart is closer to the human side, it's not so different, but when it's closer to Chalice's side, I try not to blink as much as possible, and when I talk to people, I try to give subtle pauses in my responses. It's almost like a foreigner hearing Japanese and interpreting it in their head before replying. In general, when I'm on Chalice's side, I don't think with my mind, but instead, try to act with my feelings

"Do you have any techniques for the dubbing process?"

Moromoto: I have a high pitched voice, so it can be difficult for me to make Chalice sound intimidating or violent. That's why I'm trying to lower the tone of my voice. I also did research by studying "monsters" such as the Hulk, Akuma from "Street Fighter II" and King Piccolo from "Dragon Ball Z." One time I even played the videos, and would try to voice the characters myself with the sound off, but there was still something wrong. What could it be…I don't know what Chalice's true form is yet, so my image may not be perfect. (Note: The actors have not been told where the story is going at this time.)

Ito: When it's my turn to "Henshin!," I'm trying to decide if it's better to change or to fight and further develop myself. Essentially, Chalice is supposed to be used to fighting, so I want to keep my methods in check. I'm so focused that I feel like I can see my opponent's movements, even when they've stopped. However, the tension is still high.

Moromoto: The way I say "Transformation" is different depending on if I'm fighting to protect Amane-chan or with my natural emotions. For Amane-chan, it's, "Henshin!" but naturally it's, "…Henshin" (lower tone).

"Did you face any challenges during filming?"

Ito: I'm not good when it comes to cold weather, so I almost cried during the snowy mountain shoot.

Moromoto: It was -15C (5F)! And when the sun went down, they brought out one of those giant fans! It kept spraying us with cold water! Man, I remember my face being scrunched up with anger (laughs).

Ito: When I did a test shot without the mask on, my hair ended up freezing. It wouldn't even melt when I put my head over the space heater, so I just had to keep it as is.

Moromoto: There was also the scene where Amane-chan's father gives Hajime the photo, with it being so cold I thought, "This guy, is he really going to die?!"

Ito: I'm bad with Winter, but I'm also bad with Summer too. When I wear a suit, my body temperature rises and my face turns bright red. My heart starts to race too and I think, "Ah, my life is getting shorter…"

Moromoto: It's good for Chalice though, isn't it? Blood rushing, a fast pulse, it's like an unleashing of the instincts.

Ito: But, when I get like that, I become quiet. In the Summer, Chalice becomes more like a domesticated cat (laughs).

Moromoto: Please keep doing your best~, I'm also prepared to risk my life for this role!

Ito: I also want to play the role of a Rider who will continue to remain in everyone's heart. Personally, it's frustrating to often hear people say, "Chalice looks like Gills (Agito)" (laughs), regardless, please continue to watch us in the future. We're going to give it our all!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Tbh I don't see the point of Luka learning mirakungfu while Adrien and Marinette don't, even more so if the reason why Suhan teach that to him is because he knew LB and CN identity. Then shouldn't those two learn it also since they basically holding the miraculous that the villain want most? But then again it feels like "adult is useless except for some" seems to be one of the rule in this show.

I kind of despise the concept of mirakungfu because it makes no sense and because it feels disrespectful. I am by no means an expert on Chinese culture, so I don't know if it's actually offensive, but when all the writers are white, the name for the made up martial art is a parody of a real martial art, the box of magic items has nothing to do with the culture it's supposedly from, and the main character is completely removed from her heritage, it's just not a good look, especially since the monks are Tibetan and everything about the miraculous themselves is pretty explicitly Chinese. It just gives me uncomfortable vibes of Asian cultures being treated as both window dressing and an interchangeable monolith, but I don't have the expertise to really discuss that issue beyond "this feels like a bad idea and you probably want to talk to an expert on these topics to make sure you're not doing something offensive."

On the other hand, I love the concept of Guardian Luka! I have actually always wished that he had been given the miracle box instead of Marinette simply because I don't think that Marinette's personality is well suited to the role of Guardian and because I wanted her to have an actual team. Meanwhile, Luka freaking shines when they have him in a mentor role (Wishmaker & Migration) and I am of the firm belief that the Guardian should be a mentor to the other holders. It's why I said Marinette isn't suited to the role. As written, she just kind of hands out miraculous and orders people about. That's perfectly fine for a team leader! It's not so great for what I expect when I hear "guardian who chooses the holders of the ancient and powerful artifacts."

But that's not what they did with Luka. He isn't the holder of the miracle box. He just knows how to fight off miraculous wielders because reasons, so I have no idea what they're trying to do with him. Especially since his existence is straight up breaking their lore. In this case, it's the lore established back in Furious Fu, Su-Han's intro:

Su-Han: Let me remind you about some of the Perfect Precepts that you have broken. (flips pages) Precept 14: Kwamis must not live outside the box. (flips pages) Precept 52: Guardians must never lose a Miraculous. (flips pages) Precept 133: A guardian cannot, under any circumstances, wear a Miraculous. (closes the book)

Su-Han accepting Marinette as Guardian because what's done is done makes sense because of the memory BS (why is there no other way to hand off the box?), but that whole "Guardians don't wear Miraculous" rule is there for a reason! I think it may go a step too far, but the general principle does make a lot of sense. The Guardians should be in more of a support role simply from a security standpoint.

It's another reason I'm iffy on Marinette being the Guardian. The Guardian knows everyone's identities and - in the context of canon - has a direct line to the miracle box that any rando can access by capturing them. This makes it a really bad idea to have them fighting on the front lines as they know too much and are something of a security risk. Meanwhile the snake feels like a perfect miraculous for the Guardian to wield since the snake is meant to watch the battle from the sidelines.

It's all very confusing to me because I'm getting a thing I wanted, but in the most confusing and least interesting way. Instead of this feeling like a big plot point, it just feels like something they did because it's cool. I fear this is going to be like Luka learning the secret identities: a thing that should lead to something big plot-wise, but that ends up mostly ignored because it would complicate things too much. If anything, I expect this to mean that he's left out of big moments because the writers very clearly don't know how to write him now. Like he should have been involved in the Risk/Strikeback fight! His powers made more sense than anyone else's! But he couldn't be because then the Felix thing couldn't happen.

I do very much agree that Luka leaning mirakungfu is a big WTF because, if holders are randomly allowed to learn it now, then Marinette should be learning it too! She's actively fighting against a rouge holder, she knows all of the other holders' identities, and she is the guardian! Why is Su-Han mentoring Luka and not the actual guardian? It's all very annoying and I do not like it. It would honestly make more sense if Jagged and Penny were trained, but Luka was not, because Jagged and Penny are not holders, but they are acting as Luka's bodyguards of a sort. Instead, the writers have once again shat all over their lore in the name of doing something cool for a season finale and I would bet you that they're now going to have no idea how to handle the consequences of that in the coming season because they keep doing that. See: season three ending with a mass reveal and the writers subsequently ignoring the identity rules.

[reaper2187]

Asami sato x firebender reader

I still remember the first time I saw her.

It was during one of my training sessions, when I was still a young firebender trying to master my abilities. As I practiced, I couldn't help but notice her, standing at the back of the room, her long dark hair tied up in a ponytail and a confident aura surrounding her. I was instantly captivated by her beauty and strength.

Asami Sato, the heiress of Future Industries, was well known among the benders community. Her business empire was built on groundbreaking technology and innovation, and she was also an accomplished non-bender martial artist. Her reputation preceded her, and many firebenders admired her from afar.

But I was not content with merely admiring her from a distance. I wanted to get to know her, to be a part of her world. And so, I mustered up all my courage and approached her after the training session.

To my surprise, not only did she reciprocate my interest, but she also offered to help me improve my firebending skills. Asami could see the potential in me, and she was more than willing to mentor me.

With her guidance, my skills as a firebender improved tremendously. I was able to control and manipulate flames with ease, creating intricate shapes and patterns with my fire. Asami was patient and understanding, never once losing her cool even when I struggled with a particular technique.

As we spent more time together, we grew closer. We shared stories and experiences, and I learned that Asami was more than just a powerful businesswoman. She had a kind heart and a fierce determination to make the world a better place.

I found myself falling deeper in love with her with each passing day. Her strength and grace were irresistible, and I felt grateful to have her by my side.

But we both knew that our love was forbidden. As a firebender, I was expected to marry within my own kind. And Asami, being the heiress of Future Industries, was constantly watched and scrutinized by her father and the public.

However, our love was stronger than any societal expectations. We decided to keep our relationship a secret, knowing that the consequences could be dire if anyone found out.

Despite the risks, we were happy. We sneaked away to spend time together whenever we could, whether it was on a rooftop under the stars or in a secluded area of the city. Asami even started to join me during my training sessions, bringing along her latest invention to assist me in my training.

Our love blossomed, and I felt like I was living in a dream. But as they say, all good things must come to an end.

One day, while we were enjoying a peaceful moment in a garden, we were ambushed by a group of firebenders who were against any kind of relationship between a firebender and a non-bender. Asami and I fought against them, our bending skills meshing together perfectly as we defended ourselves.

But it was no use. They outnumbered us, and just when I thought the end was near, Asami stepped in front of me, using her martial arts skills to fend off our attackers. However, in the chaos of the battle, she sustained a severe injury, and I was too preoccupied with protecting her to notice.

When the attackers were finally defeated, I rushed to Asami's side, my heart sinking as I saw the blood seeping through her clothes. With tears in my eyes, I tried to heal her injuries with my firebending, but it was no use. Her injuries were too severe, and she needed medical attention immediately.

Without hesitation, I scooped her up in my arms and rushed her to the nearest hospital. As her life hung in the balance, I prayed to the spirits, begging them to spare her life. I couldn't imagine a world without Asami by my side.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally regained consciousness. She looked at me with a weak smile, and I knew at that moment that she was going to be okay.

Asami's father, Hiroshi Sato, arrived at the hospital soon after. He was shocked and angry to find out about our forbidden love, but as he saw the love and care I had for his daughter, his heart softened. He gave us his blessing and even offered to help us keep our relationship a secret.

From that day on, Asami and I were no longer just two people in love. We were a team, facing any challenges that came our way, together.

Asami and I eventually got married, and we continued to train and support each other in our respective abilities. Together, we used our skills and resources to make a difference in the world, just like we always dreamed of.

Looking back now, I realize that our love was the catalyst for great change. Our love had the power to overcome any boundaries and obstacles, setting an example for others to follow.

And as I stand here, beside my wife Asami, I couldn't be more grateful for our love that started in a training room. It was a love that transformed not only our lives, but the world around us.