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dcxdpdabbles · 2 days ago

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Die with a Smile

For @anonymous-existences who asked for a "Die with a Smile" by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga using Spirt Halloween ship. Hope you like it!

Danny remembers being alive, but it was a distant memory as if he had woken from a wonderful dream. He could recall no scents or tastes from his time being flesh and bone, but he remembered sights and sometimes, if he was lucky a few sounds.

The sound of his sister singing. His father's laughter. His mother's humming. His best friend's fingers tap on his keyboard. His other best friend's plants when the water of her watering can fell over their leaves.

Danny held all the sounds dear to his heart, even if he could not remember their names or voices. Just their faces, smiles, and the warmth in their eyes before the car accident. Danny had been a Halfa from the age of fourteen, but twenty years later, he had died in a collision caused by a drunk driver, turning into a complete ghost.

Like all his previous adversaries, Danny could no longer return to the human world willy-nilly. He had reformed after he died in the Zone, becoming one of its citizens, anchored to the Realms between Death and Life.

He needed a gateway made by a mortal who willingly invited him through. All natural portals were nice, but it was a one-way. Anyone could pass through them to the Realms, not vice versa.

His parents had unknowingly created an open invitation when they stabilized their portal, allowing ghosts to run a rampage in the city. Danny doesn't remember why they had made it, but he wishes it was still there so he could see them again.

So that he could feel the deep love so evident in the glimpses and flashes of their faces that ran through his mind. He couldn't find his way back, so he spent years looking. He was one of the few ghosts that had no anchored haunt. Danny spends all eternity flying through the Realms in search of the love that he had once felt.

He lost count of how long ago that was. But along the way, he picked up other various wonders.

A bag that opens to his pocket of cosmos is flung over his shoulder. A long cloak that protected him from the scorching heat, freezing blizzards, howling winds, and drowning rain. A glimmering book that recorded his adventures in the consultations. And many new friends who have been in the Realms for so long they had developed their own culture and given birth to generations that knew nothing of the mortal realm.

Danny's ghost's name had also faded from his mind, knowing he used to answer something when he was fourteen. He is grateful that his birth name stays with him, even if he does not know his surname.

He now went as the Wander. Always searching for something he did not know if he could hold, let alone own. Wander grew in power, for his death had brought along all the ectoplasm of his Halfa days, and while his travels were relatively peaceful, there were times he needed to fight his way through.

He has never been defeated.

That was Danny's experience now. Wander, find adventure, find friends, find new incredible sights, become saddened that the new things didn't match the love he set on a pedestal, and wander again.

Over and over. Never lingering for too long. Never belonging.

Just lost in the endless void of the Realms.

Then, Danny had run into him.

A human had fallen through a portal caused by unnatural means. It was due to being attacked by a monstrous tyrant that was threatening his world. Omega Beam radiation polluted the portal, and for a second, Danny had thought he had finally found a stable way into the human world.

But alas, when he approached it, an invisible force kept him from leaving the Realms. Its constant flickering and electrical crackles mocked him, even if the scene behind the portal depicted a broken world.

Danny wanted nothing more than to fly through the human world, feel all those fantastic emotions, and live again. He pushed and pushed against the force field; however, there was no open invitation. He could not pass through the portal.

The human that fell after being pushed by the sudden explosion could. Danny had caught him and nursed him back to health, and when he awakened, he was struck dumb by those intense, intelligent eyes.

Batman was the name the human gave him, and for a few months, that was what Danny called him. The way to his home, an Earth called Gotham, had closed as soon as the omega beams had vanished. Batman was beside himself, attempting to find another portal.

As the man was living without means of flight between islands, Danny offered to take him to a few natural portals. He warned him that even if he could enter said portals, there was no guarantee he would be back when he vanished.

Portals bend time and space. They may appear in the same spot, but it was also a gamble of when that would be. Batman had no care, taking Danny's offer, and the two went off on a new adventure.

The broken pieces of an endless city was the connection between the Realms and Batman's Gotham. It took some time before Batman admitted that the city they traveled through - as, for some reason, the city bounds stopped Danny's flight - was his beloved city. It was an exact duplicated, over and over again as time moved on in the mortal world; this one copied every new development without removing the old one.

It merely expanded right next to the old building. The natural portals across the range were unstable, lasting only a few seconds before Batman was forced to throw himself back into the Realm or he got stuck at the wrong time.

Batman left a clue at every stop the portal gave him, claiming one of his children would notice and help find a way to bring him home. Danny wasn't so sure, but if the human found comfort in the thought, he would not be the one to burst his bubble.

As for Danny, the familiar emptiness that came with the urge to move on never showed itself. He found comfort in the footsteps of Batman. He found glee in the laughter around the small fires they make in the destroyed streets, void of any color.

Danny had forgotten most colors, so used to the Grey's, blacks, whites and dark purples of the Realms but the way Batman spoke of it made him think back to the reds blues yellows and greens he had not realized he missed.

Slowly, his journal filled itself with nothing but the mortal he had found.

Batman survived on what little they could find in the broken streets of his colorless home. He seemed disgruntled by the silence of the repeating streets, the obvious signs of violence that never quite healed in his city.

After a while, Danny realized he felt whole again. As if a part of his soul had been returned. Batman did not bring him back to life, but he made him feel alive.

Danny informed him it meant the land was cursed, but that only earned him a cold glare and a sharp bite of beef jerky from a gas station with its window smashed in. Their travels continued, with Danny dreaming of the five sounds he could recall of his loved ones- he did not need food anymore as a ghost, but he did need sleep. His core required recharge- realizing a new sound had been added.

The sound of Batman's soft taps as he marched on, searching for a way home.

Danny created a new constellation for him. He named it the Lost Vengence. It seemed right, even if Batman rarely spoke.

A few months of them together, Batman had wandered into an air that exploded with green grass. He grasped for his belt, but whatever he was searching for wasn't there, and he fell to his knees screaming.

Danny, who hadn't breathed it in, had rushed him over to a crumbled hospital, strapping the human down and panicking over his state. He was no doctor, but if he left Batman alone to get help, leaving the area that didn't allow him to fly would take far too long, and Batman would die.

Already, his heart was beating too fast for a human. Danny had ripped off his strange mask, trying to get him out of the clothes covered in the green goo, but it didn't do much. All that was left was a human- a handsome human- screaming his head off.

Eventually, Danny realized that his journal may have the answer. He could not always remember what he recorded, but if he asked it to, it would pull up records of adventures he may have forgotten.

There was a method of passing on his healing that Frostbite once shared with him long before his death. He pressed his hands over Batman's chest, not with his palms but with his soul, and prayed the human would accept it.

A few minutes later, Danny's ectoplasm had sunk through the skin and cleaned out the effects of the strange grass. Batman slumped against the metal table, breathing heavily and sweating profoundly, but he stared up at Danny as if he were bestowing an angel.

Since ectoplasm was purely emotional, no words had to be shared between them to know Danny had wanted to save him more than anything. Had felt the way Batman made him feel complete.

"My name is Bruce Wayne," Batman had told him later that night while the pair looked through a mall that seemed to have been flooded. The water splashed against their mid-calfs, slowly picking their way through the new clothes that Bruce could wear.

His soft smile filled up to his core, and neither mentioned the way the distance between them closed or the fingers that laced together,but Danny knew he had found it.

What he had been searching for all these years.

Bruce would sometimes stop them in the nicer parts of his city- places that merely went out of business instead of being broken down- and treat him to the few things he had forgotten of the human world.

An ice cream parlor had been stripped clean, but the owners had left one fringe with three tubs of ice cream. As time was frozen, it was good to eat, and Danny realized that while he did not need food, he did enjoy it. Bruce was sensitive to the weather that changed every few hundred miles.

In the parts with ice and snow, he curled up on Danny's chest, protected by the cloak that expanded to cover them. In the fires, he was carried on Danny's back, the fabric of the cloak protecting him from burning while Danny's hair flickers snowflakes for him to breathe.

Other times, he merely liked holding hands because he, too, felt whole with Danny.

Then they came upon a part of town that belonged to Bruce's third youngest son. He called it the Nest, and a date and time was carved on the wall. His son had found a way to stabilize a portal, and he planned to pull Bruce back home.

The boy thought Bruce was trapped in the past, but his rescue would still work. Bruce could finally return to the humans.

He understood. Danny had lived his life. Now, it was time for Bruce to finish his.

"Will you go? Would you leave me?" Danny knew the answer to his questions the second he looked into Bruce's eyes. It cracked something deep inside, but he was not angry or feeling betrayed.

"I'm sorry," Bruce whispers, tracing his hand on the curve of Danny's cheek. The ghost leans on it, wishing, not for the first time that he had the sensation of touch again. He only gets brief impressions of something against him, but Danny can not feel the texture of Bruce's clauses.

The warmth of his skin.

"Don't be. This was the best part of my existence in a long time. You were everything that I had forgotten about love."

He knew humans were warm. He remembers a tiny moment when his sister's fingers in his hair comforted him.

But he could not remember what their warmth felt like.

Bruce's face crumbled before it softened. "I'm not gone yet. We have a few hours."

"Just three," Danny whispered, looking at the numbers on Bruce's watch. He had set a countdown to when Tim would activate the machine- the portal- that only called Bruce home. Since the boy did not know it wasn't a time issue but a different reality, he had unintentionally made it with only Bruce in mind.

The force keeping all ghosts like Danny in the Realms wouldn't let him enter.

"I know how I want to spend them." Bruce found a record player broken in the movie theater beside his son's shining new hideout. Apparently, it was the one that had been abandoned in Bruce's youth.

It played a lovely old, slow dance from the forties that echoed through the dusted room, surrounding them in its soft, wistful melody. Bruce guided Danny to the center of the stage- the only place not covered in dust or supplies- and carefully bent him into an elegant dip.

At that moment, Danny and Bruce were all that existed in the broken-ended city of Gotham's past.

A smile blooms on Danny's face, twirling around the man who caught him and guided him, saying without words how much he adored Danny. The unsaid words between them meant nothing in the face of their world ending, but their smiles made up for it.

Danny's book had fallen open at one point, his collected stars and cosmos flying out to surround the pair as they swayed and slowly danced. He felt the thumping of Bruce's heart against his chest, pressing closer to record the feeling in his core and soul.

Song after song. Step, spin, sway, dip, intelligent eyes that watched him with the same amount of wishful longing and bright, loving smile.

"I could die again," Danny told him, hands on Bruce's shoulders and the human hands on his hip.

"I am," Bruce whispered back as his clock started beeping. They had ten seconds left. "I want you to remember me with a smile."

"Of course." Danny leaned back only far enough that when he pushed his face against Bruce's, their lips sealed in a burst of incredible, indescribable sensations. All at once, it's like sounds, feelings, tastes, and sights rush back at him, making him feel as if life was being breathed back into him, only for it to vanish as Bruce's body slowly fades away.

He leans back after his hands pass through Bruce's body, no longer anchored enough in the Realms to hold, and gives him the brightest smile he can muster. Neither mentions the tears rolling down their faces as he whispers.

"The party is over, and our time on this Earth is through, but I'll love you. For all eternity. I always do when I think of those who are still alive." Danny watches him fade away in soft, gentle sparks that he would later gather and shift into stardust.

He places them in Gotham's skies so Bruce can have a tiny part of him, even though he cannot see it. Danny turns around and marches back towards the realms.

The Wander must find a new purpose.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Die with a Smile #Part 1 #spirt halloween ship #TW: Main charater death #Danny misses his human side #Bruce fell in love but he has a life to live #They were only meant a little while #slight angst #bittersweet ending?#Tim brings Bruce home #Danny is unaware he's an Accient since he can effect the living world even if he can't travel to it

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thatgaytevinter · 3 days ago

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THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS. page breaking bc i have to talk about my boy.

tldr: chis are so smart, and i love them. i will beat you with a stick if you think they have one brain cell that just yaps. im mourning one, so i kind of derailed in this, so im sorry this is long. feel free to skip.

i have 1 chihuahua at the moment, but I have had the opportunity and blessing to love 3 chihuahuas in my time.

chihuahuas. know. everything.

yes, they are alert dogs with big ears and yappy mouths. but they have a purpose, and they were bred for that, and they know.

Kunai, my current and only chihuahua right now is the best example of this ever. we say he is in the same situation as Salem from Sabrina. hes just WAY too intelligent.

kunai knows that a specific reflection bouncing off the wall from the little windows on my front door means someone is in the driveway. he even knows, now, that specific reflections mean different cars. he howls differently when my dad pulls up than when my mom does. he doesnt do his 'i love you bark' when he sees the reflection of my uncle's car. He stares at the wall the reflections bounce off now when someone isnt home or its around 3:30 (usually when other people pull up to the house).

he knows that when my mother puts River up, she is waking up my dad for work (which means he gets to go to bed soon), so he will direct all the other dogs and US to our places so he can get there faster. BUT he also has immense FOMO, so he will pretend to eat his food until we all say goodnight and depart to our respective rooms so that mom doesn't pick him up to take him to bed.

he is an actor. he loves a good dramatic and will play it up and in different ways to get what he wants.

my 2 other chis, Honey and Poco, were also very intelligent and loving. they were more empathic, though, if you understand the difference in what im saying about them and kunai. they weren't dumb. They knew perfectly what was going on, but they didn't have the patience to deal with it the way Kunai does. they knew when you didn't like a person or you were uncomfortable. they cared more for your emotions than their own at times to their own detriment.

Kunai is truly hard to explain without you seeing him in action in person, but he is a master manipulator. and i dont mean in the usual 'puppy dog eyes' way. i mean full production: swooning, gaslighting, Purposeful and Deliberate Shunning.

He's my little person in a little furry suit, and i treat him as such. everyone in the house does. he understands us, and it confounds people that we dont baby talk our chis. he knows what we're saying, and he WILL ARGUE if he doesn't think it's the correct action to take. He's much more sensible than most in my family, and im not being biased at all. he knows better than them.

i love chihuahuas. i will defend them to my dying breath. i miss their barks frequently and how they didn't listen to me. their hearts often can't take the amount of love they have for their people.

It fucks with me that dog intelligence is tested with obedience tests, so there's a significant bias towards compliant dog breeds. Dogs that are intelligent enough to understand what is being asked of them, but are too headstrong and/or independent to go through with it, get lumped up with the dogs that might want to do what people ask them to do, but are too stupid to understand the assignment.

And it fucks with me that chihuahuas are actually quite intelligent. They're not stressed and angry because they're too stupid to understand what's going on. They understand exactly what's going on, and that's why they're so angry and stressed.

#not dragon age #chihuahuas #im actively crying rn bc i thought too much about honey and poco #cal rants #cal reblogs #its 2 am its snowing and i am crying over chis again #i got too passionate about a chihuahuas love #animals are too good for us #slight tw for animal death in my reblog #sorry #im emotional #might delete and my response and just reblog who knows what will happen while its in the queue

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 2 days ago

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Devout

Guardian Angel alternative POV, or Jason Todd is the Arkham Knight, and he can't stop himself from watching you, from clawing his way into the cracks of your life in a twisted, mangled mirror of what he used to be ~3.5k words

CW: Jason commits a few murders, some gore, stalking, some religious imagery for fun

Jason Todd shouldn't be watching you. He knows it's wrong, knows he shouldn't be perched on the shadowy rooftop across from your apartment building, staring intently into your windows.

He knows. He knows. But he's doing it anyway– been doing it for weeks.

You haven't noticed once, so wrapped up in your own life, your peace of mind that no one would break the sanctity of your own home that you don't even consider closing your blinds.

He thinks you should know better. Gotham is tainted– he is tainted– yet you never spare a glance over your shoulder when he follows you down the street, never linger on that sixth sense that screams that you're being watched.

You pick up on his presence on the rare occasion, he thinks. The days you walk home quicker or the nights you actually slam your blinds shut makes him wonder if you do know you're being watched. But then you go back to normal, brush off every sign and every lingering feeling that something isn't right.

It almost makes him angry, sometimes, that you'd be so careless with your safety. But everything makes him angry now. It's a constant, tight grasp in his chest, the righteous fury he has against the world, against the city and its filth, against Batman.

The anger makes him reckless, or maybe he's just cocky. Maybe he wants you to know he's there. Jason doesn't let himself wonder why he does it. He might just be a masochist. He might just miss you. But he opens the faulty window to your living room that he knows squeaks and never quite locks right.

The first time he breaks into– visits your apartment while you're asleep, he doesn't touch a thing. He just takes in everything that's you, cleanses his fractured soul in the space he used to know like the back of his hand. The trinkets that sit on your counters. The paintings on the wall. The color of the blankets thrown over your couch.

He doesn't touch anything the second time, either. Or the third. The fourth time, though, he picks over the photos you keep on your shelves, the books you leave lying around. He moves them, just slightly. Just to see if you'll notice.

You don't. Not really. Not until the eighth time. He doesn't know why he does this either. He just does. He picks up your keys from where you usually keep them and moves them. It's something you can't deny. Something tangible and real and clear, an unyielding truth. He was here. He exists, and he can affect your life, change it with his hands.

(It's the first time he feels like he's truly alive since the asylum, the first time there's more than just revenge and watching you from afar, even if he feels like he's corrupting something that's only meant to be seen and not touched by impure, broken hands)

If your keys being displaced affects you, well, you don't show it for more than a few moments. And that bothers him. You might not know he's here– alive– and maybe he's not ready for you to, but he's still a part of your life, isn't he?

So he gets bolder. He doesn't want to scare you, not really. But he can't help but dig his nails into the parts of your life he can change. It starts simple, innocent. You were annoyed when you left your kitchen, out of sugar, just another thing on top of everything else you have to deal with.

And he wanted to help. Like he used to. It was easy to get a bag of sugar, even easier to sneak into your kitchen. He leaves just enough for a few days, just enough to get you through the week, enough that you'll think you misremembered how much was left.

And he should have left it at that. But he's never been good at doing things halfway, especially when it comes to you. So he fixes your apartment up while you're at work. Makes sure your window doesn't squeak, your shower doesn't rattle, your oven actually heats up. All things he's heard you try to get your landlord to fix.

He makes a note to give your landlord a visit as he's looping the footage in your cameras over, effectively erasing any evidence of who he is.

Honestly, he's proud of you for finally doing something about him, it's just a shame he has the skills to outmatch your attempts to figure out his identity. Not that any pictures of him would do any good. He's still nameless in Gotham as the Arkham Knight, and if he's not wearing a mask while he's easily picking the new lock on your apartment window, his hood and ballcap do the job of hiding his face just as well.

He thinks he could let it go on like this forever, just doing things for you in the shadows, never revealing himself. At least until he's routinely following you home from work one night, and he sees you get tugged into a dark, lonely alley. He recognizes the man that hauls you off the faux safety of the streets, the one that's lifting a shaky hand and a gun to wave it, demanding your possessions.

Murphy is a nobody in Gotham, just another gambling addicted alcoholic that takes work from whatever rouge is paying the most that week. Jason more or less only recognizes him because he lives on the third floor of your apartment building, but it's clear you don't know who the man snatching your things is.

The Arkham Knight resigns himself to stealing your wallet and phone back after you've gotten home, to keep himself out of your sights for as long as he can. That was the plan.

But there's a flicker in Murphy's eyes, a consideration– a passing thought that Jason can't ignore, one he's seen a million times. Maybe it's the idea that he could get more from you, or maybe he's realizing you've seen his face and wants to get rid of any witnesses, whatever it is, Jason isn't going to let it happen.

The Arkham Knight doesn't hesitate to drop himself between you and the gun. He breaks Murphy's arm without even thinking about it, effectively disarming him as he kicks the gun away from him. The sound of his bones breaking is loud, but Jason doesn't register it as something to be sickened by until he turns and sees the nausea and horror written plainly on your face.

Honestly, maybe he should be more disgusted with himself. He's just sent a man into shock, revealed himself to you in a way that's not at all comforting. But he doesn't care. No one was going to save you. No one but him. He protected you, and it's not like Bruce Batman– it's not like broken bones are uncommon in Gotham.

You take a step back. He steps towards you, drawn to you. He can't help it. He shouldn't. But his head is spinning, and he hasn't been this close to you since before the asylum. You look tired, older, but no less beautiful than he remembers.

"Who are you? What do you want," You snap at him.

Jason wants to praise you for your bravery, as fake as it is. It's a good tactic, to try and get him talking. He doesn't understand why you look so uneasy of him, though. He got you out of a bad situation, even if he's wearing military-grade armor and a mask that glows in the darkness of the alley, shouldn't you feel grateful? Safe? Happy?

He tilts his head, trying to read you. Would you feel better if he offered to walk you home? "I saved you," he tries, the modulator making his voice sound flatter than he intends to. The Arkham Knight silently curses himself. He should just leave. Should have shot your attacker from the roof without you ever seeing him. He's being emotional now, irrational under your gaze.

"You've been following me. You're the one who's been in my apartment," you accuse, eyes darting like you're trying to find an escape in the dead end alley.

He stiffens. Huh. Clever thing. You've always been too smart for your own good. A part of him wants to deny it, pretend he's just some passing good doer in a mask, pretend that he's some kind of knight, an angel here to shield you from harm.

The notion almost makes him laugh, "Have I," he prompts instead with all the air nonchalance. He wonders if you'll drop it then, actually thank him for stepping in and helping you. You don't.

"Yes," You say instead, voice low like it's a secret– a confession, "You have."

Jason finds himself impressed at your stubbornness, if not a little unnerved by your recklessness in confronting the supposed stranger you believe is breaking into your home alone. He has to give you credit for piecing it together, but who else, if not a freak in body armor, would be letting themselves into your apartment without a word just to fix what's broken?

He nods, unsure of what to do. You weren't supposed to figure it out, but you have. And now there's consequences.

The Arkham Knight turns his back to you, making a show of gathering your phone and wallet before standing and facing you again. He walks closer to you, each step measured and calculated. He holds your belongings out to you, a twisted, mirrored version of some kind of sacred offering.

He studies you as you grab at them, trying to tug them from his unyielding grip. There's bags under your eyes. He can practically see your pulse jumping under your skin.

You're less than a foot away, and Jason basks in that distance, how light he feels now that you're only an arm's reach away. He could brush his knuckles over your cheek, dip his head to take in the scent of your hair, kiss the hollow of your throat the same way he used to.

He does none of those things. Because you don't see Jason Todd. You only see a threat, a monster, some kind of demon that clawed their way out of the shadows and cracks that litter Gothams hallowed corners.

He cocks his head, letting go of your wallet and phone while greedily drinking down the color of your eyes in the dim light of the alley, "And if I have?"

"I'll go to the police," You tell him, defensive, and he wants to laugh as you shove your wallet and phone back into your pocket.

"They can't help you," he grits out, and it's the truth. No one knows who he is yet, what his plans are. Even if you told someone, whatever description you give won't be enough to find him.

"They can contact Batman," you bite out, and that does earn you a laugh. You really think Bruce can do anything? That Batman has any chance of standing between him and you? Batman couldn't even find– couldn't even save–

"He can't help you either," The Arkham Knight tells you. He gives into his desire to touch you then, partly in anger that you still believe in Batman and partly because he just misses you. He pats your cheek, but doesn't let himself linger. "Get home," is all he says before he grapples into the night.

He follows you back to your apartment from the rooftops and notes how you avoid getting too close to any more alleys. But, it's not until you're safe in your bed that he goes looking for Murphy– that he goes to finish the job.

The creep's nursing his broken arm in his dingy apartment when The Arkham Knight gets to him. He doesn't make it quick, but it is quiet. (It's difficult to scream when you're choking on your own severed tongue, after all) He brings down fire and fury and vengeance for daring to lay a hand on you and leaves nothing behind but a corpse.

Murphy's brutal death is swept under the rug by the GCPD, which Jason shouldn't be surprised by. Just another mob death, the tiny obituary in the paper reports. You don't even register the death in your apartment building. He doesn't blame you for that. Not when he knows he's scaring you.

He's getting careless, sloppy. He wants you to catch glimpses of him now, he wants you to know he's watching. It's sick. He knows that, knows it so well that it claws in the back of his throat when he breaks into your apartment to fix your fan.

He's guilty about it, sometimes. It's a pressing weight on his shoulder even when he's trying to help. So, he redoubles his efforts.

He sneaks into your room and stuffs six hundred dollars into the emergency fund you keep under your bed. He sends you flowers, fills your gas tank, finally visits your landlord, and pays off your rent for the next six months. (He's already bought you a better, newer apartment, he just hasn't figured out how to tell you that)

He knows it's all wrong, but sometimes, he doesn't feel guilty at all. He wants to do things for you, that's not a lie. He wants to do everything and anything you could ever want or ask for.

He starts letting you catch flashes of him outside your window, moves your things around just out of the sheer curiosity of what you'll do. He can't justify that, because it does nothing to protect you. But he does it anyway. The Arkham Knight needs you to know he holds a spot in your life, even if it's not as Jason Todd anymore.

He's getting bolder, much too comfortable. There's times you almost walk into your apartment as he's leaving gifts on your counter, times when you wake up and walk into your kitchen just seconds after he forces himself out your window.

He's going to get caught if it keeps going on like this. But he can't bring himself to worry or care. His plans are coming together, and while he doesn't exactly know where you fit into them yet, he knows he doesn't trust anything or anyone enough to leave you to your own devices once he unleashes his legions upon Gotham and her failure of a saviour.

He never seems to do the right thing when it comes to you, at least not since he came back. But saving you– guarding you against the vile filth of the world– that can't be wrong. He'd do anything to keep you as you are, untouched by all the cruelties Gotham has to offer. It's an unwavering, righteous mission he has commanded unto himself.

It's why he reacts the way he does when three men break into your apartment.

He was late. He always seems to be late when you're involved. He had just finished overseeing the arrival of tanks and men into Miagani Tunnel, just dragged himself halfway across the city for the slightest chance to catch a glimpse of you in your apartment, when he catches sight of it.

Your window– open. You never keep it open. Dread washes down his spine, and when he gets close enough to see the man pointing a gun towards the floor– towards you– he just reacts.

He shuts down, becomes nothing but instinct, and he brings hell on to Earth in your name.

He's clinical. He doesn't hesitate to shoot the man aiming a gun to your head through his temple. If the man were alone, he would have shot the gun out of his hand, but there's two other targets, and he needs to eliminate any threats to your life first.

He climbs through your window with the ease of a man who's done it hundreds– thousands of times. You haven't moved to get up. It concerns him, but he's angry right now, so, so angry he doesn't even consider ending this quickly.

Everyone tries to take something from him. He keeps losing. If he didn't come to watch– see you tonight, he would have lost you too. The very thought makes his vision blur red, his ears ring.

It's not a fight, what happens next. It's a death penalty. The Arkham Knight is a weapon, and he proves it with each hit. He's efficient, brutal, and purposeful with each movement. He doesn't flinch at the blood that splatters on his armor, doesn't stop even when fluids and flesh start to stick to the knuckles of his gloves.

He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, until the only hearts left beating in your desecrated apartment are his and yours.

Then, and only then, does the blood pounding through his veins start to cool. It's only then, does he turn to look at you. He expects to meet your terrified gaze, but you haven't moved, still laying on the floor. It makes his heart clench. What's wrong with him? He just– while you–

He shakes his head, slowly tugging his gloves off and stuffing them into his belt. He walks over to you, kneels carefully to your side, and watches you breathe. He matches the slow rhythm of your shoulders rising and falling, and then he helps you sit up.

You're responsive to that, at least. The Arkham Knight presses his hands to your face, waiting for something. He doesn't know what, just anything. Some kind of sign. A message of what he's supposed to do. How he can make this all better.

When you finally open your eyes, they're hazy, not quite reactive. It makes him angry all over again. You got hurt. He wasn't here.

"Saved me again," you murmur, and his throat tightens. He failed you. Yet here you are, spouting words that make it sound like he's done something good.

He runs his thumb over your cheek, savoring the feel of your skin, soothing himself and you as he reassures himself that you're still here– still alive. But you aren't safe.

It's all he can think about. He saved you, but how long until you're in danger again? What if he's not quick enough this time? What if he's not there? What if– what if– haunts him. It weighs heavier than the nightmares that plague him when he finally has to succumb to sleep.

He makes the decision then and there to take you away from here, away from the rot and the fester to some place where it can never touch you again.

He picks you up, cradles you to his chest like you're made of shattered, stained glass and tarnishing silver, but nonetheless precious. You're talking, and he's answering, but he hardly registers what either of you are saying. His mind is working over plans, where he's going to take you, the guards he'll need to recruit to watch over you when he can't, which ones he trusts the most.

Jason only tunes back in when you point out that he could hurt you. It's funny, in a way. After everything he used to be to you, after everything he's done for you, he could still hurt you. He tips his head down to really look at you, the cloudy, exhausted look on your face, the heaviness of your eyes as you struggle to keep watching him.

He can't find it in himself to lie, so, he tells you, maybe he could hurt you. He tells you that he wouldn't like it. (And it's the truth)

Maybe you recognize that, because you drop your head to his shoulder and let your eyes fall shut. The Arkham Knight never wavers in his steps, mapping the path to the apartment he'd purchased in your name in his head. It's not perfect, not filled with everything you deserve quite yet, but it'll do the job for now.

Something in him simultaneously softens and hardens when your breathing goes even and slow against him, and he curls his fingers tighter into your skin. You're weak. Weaker than him. Too naive and too soft for what's going to come.

There's no other fate for you than this now. He'll have to take care of you, protect you from it all, from all the evil that festers in Gotham, even if that includes him.

He lets the mission engrave itself into his heart– into the fabric of his very soul and right next to his revenge. You're going to be safe. He is going to keep you safe, and he'll throw himself into fire to see it done.

#arkham knight x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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harunayuuka2060 · 2 days ago

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The judge: Counselor MC, I understand the gravity of your dedication to this case, but given your condition, I must ask—would you like to seek medical attention before proceeding?

MC: I appreciate your concern, Your Honor. However, seeking medical attention now would only serve to embolden those who resort to intimidation tactics. I intend to proceed and fulfill my duty to my client.

Eric, Vil, and his manager: ...

Eric: *whispers to Vil* Your friend is good.

Vil: Of course. That's why I chose them.

Vil's manager: I just received a call from the producer. They're pulling all their projects involving her [the celebrity trying to ruin Eric's reputation].

Vil: Oh?

The defendant's lawyer: Your Honor, my client is being harassed with these inappropriate and foul questions.

MC: Counsel, it's a yes or no question. How can that possibly be considered harassment?

The defendant's lawyer: ...

The judge: ...

The judge: They have a fair point.

The defendant's lawyer: My apologies, Your Honor...

Vil: Don't laugh, Dad.

Eric: I'm already pinching myself.

Vil: We're driving you to the hospital.

MC: Nah. I just want to go home and rest.

Eric: Are you sure? You helped us a lot.

MC: No, I'm serious. A simple thank you will do.

MC: Besides, my coward is here to pick me up.

Vil and Eric: *turned to look at Ace*

Ace: !!!

Ace: *smiles awkwardly and waves at them*

Vil: ...

Eric: Is he your boyfriend? *chuckles* You're too humble.

MC: Thanks for not calling me a moron.

Eric: *laughs*

Ace: Hey, how are your injuries?

MC: They gave me a solid.

Ace: Tch. How come you didn't defend yourself?

MC: They're celebrities. I needed some drama for that.

Ace: Weirdo.

MC: *clicks their tongue*

Ace: ...

Ace: *decides to carry them up*

MC: ...

MC: You ate something bad today?

Ace: Can't you just appreciate it?

MC: Not really. You're barely doing the bare minimum.

Ace: *frowns*

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst ace #twst vil #twst eric venue #twst ace and mc series

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wonderjanga · 2 days ago

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Yo, Wanna Hang Out?

Billy asking people if they want to hang out at the strangest places. They hang out with him anyways regardless of the places are strange.

Marvel: *in the kitchens packing up a fishing kit looking like someone’s dad getting ready to fish*

Aquaman: *nearby, making a sandwich* “You know, I’ve never seen you wear a bucket hat let alone civilian clothes before.”

Marvel: “What do you mean? It’s a fisherman’s hat. And I’m wearing it because I’m gonna go fishing.”

Aquaman: “Still a bucket hat…”

Martian Manhunter(MM): *also nearby, rummaging through the freezer looking for ice cream* “Fishing? Where?”

Aquaman: “Are you gonna go to a big lake or something?”

Marvel: “Yeah! I’m going to the frozen over one on Mars.”

MM: *looks over, now distracted from his quest of finding ice cream* “What-”

Marvel: “The fish there are so cool looking! I was gonna catch a few and then throw them back into the water, you know?”

MM: “No… No I don’t know.” *shakes head slowly*

Aquaman: “Wait, Mars has lakes?”

Marvel: “Yeah! In the south pole. It’s under some ice. Do you wanna come?”

Aquaman: “Well, I mean sure? I’m down to fish with you, but I don’t wanna do that if I have to wear a space suit.”

Marvel: “I don’t think you have to. I remember seeing Supes wearing this thing over his mouth and nose, and it allowed him to breathe in space.”

Aquaman: “Oh cool!”

Marvel: “Yeah, but apparently it’s super cold down there.”

MM: “It is. In human degrees it’s negative 153 degrees Celsius.”

Aquaman: “What’s that in American-”

Marvel: “So yeah! You might have to bundle up or maybe I could cast the heating spell on you? Just know it’ll be really really cold. By the way, J’onn, are you coming too?”

MM: *shrugs* “If you’ll have me.”

They ended up actually getting attacked by this giant, Martian, vaguely octopus-resembling creature. It was an epic battle of which they brought some of it back to the Watchtower and ate a bunch of octopus dishes together.

Marvel: *packing some stuff in a little bag and whistling a little tune while dressed like a gardener*

Hawkgirl: “Captain? Are you going somewhere?”

Marvel: “Oh, I’m going to Thanagar cause I wanna pick up this species of plant that only grows there. Wanna come?”

Hawkgirl: “I sort of can’t, considering the fact the entire planet thinks I’m a war criminal for betraying them.”

Marvel: “Wear a disguise. Want me to conjure a fake mustache on you?”

Hawkgirl: *snorts* “No.”

Marvel: “You sure? It doesn’t have to be a fake mustache. We can just change some things about you, like your hair color.”

Hawkgirl: “Hmm…” *rubs her chin, thinking* “Can Carter come along?”

Marvel: “Of course!”

They got caught and ended up going on this wacky adventure of evading the authorities. They even got arrested. Multiple times. They also broke out. Multiple times. It was fun for everyone involved besides the Thanagarian Law Enforcement.

Marvel: *humming a tune as he stands inside of a heavily restricted building that only allows people of the highest military clearance access to*

Captain Atom: *is also here because one of his superiors told him to report here and sees Marvel* “Captain Marvel Sir? What are you-” *looks around* “What are you doing here?”

Marvel: “Hey, Atom!” *little wave* “What do you mean?”

Captain Atom: “This is a military building with restricted access. I know you have Captain in your name, but I didn’t actually think you were in any of the branches. Let alone high enough in whatever branch to have access to this place.”

Marvel: “Oh no, I’m not military. I’m just here to renew my contract. I just finished.”

Captain Atom: “Contract?”

Marvel: “See a long time ago, a.k.a. the 1950s, heroes would do contractual jobs for the United States Government. Me and the Squadron of Justice used to do a lot of them.”

Captain Atom: “So that means I’ll be seeing you around here more often?”

Marvel: “Yep! Me and the other Fawcett heroes.”

Super Duper High Level Person In the Government(SDHLPITG): *walks over while holding a clipboard* “Oh, it seems you both are already acquainted.”

Captain Atom: “Ah, yes. We’re both on the Justice League ma’am.”

SDHLPITG: “So that means you’ll be good teammates. Wonderful.” *hands a clipboard to Captain Atom* “The head honcho wants you guys to investigate a portal in Antartica.” *looks to Marvel* “Your first job back with us.” *nods to him before leaving*

Captain Atom: *starts looking through it*

Marvel: *looks over his shoulder to see it* “Isn’t that the portal that leads to the Winter Fairy realm?”

Captain Atom: “What?”

Marvel: “Oh my gosh it is! That place is super cool! Their ice cream is amazing. You should try some.” *nudges him with his elbow*

Captain Atom: “Oh- uh- Okay?” *confused if that means they’ll be interacting with the mentioned fairies*

That’s how Atom and Marvel ended up eating fairy ice cream while surrounded by a bunch of fairies who were all super happy to see the Champion of Magic. They were both made into honorary fairies.

Captain Atom: *staring at the bowl of fairy liquid the Winter Fairies gave them* “Marvel… I don’t know if it’s a good idea to drink a foreign substance that looks like an oil spill.”

Marvel: “Oh trust me, it’s not dangerous or anything. It’ll just give you wings!”

Captain Atom: “What-”

Marvel: *downs his bowl*

After that, all the Winter fairies shied away from them as their wings were too hot for them. After all, Marvel’s was comprised of lightning which is hot, and Atom’s was comprised of the same matter as his energy blasts which were also extremely hot.

Marvel: *leans over to whisper* “Don’t worry. I can magic them away when we leave this place.”

Captain Atom: *lets out a little sigh of relief as he resumes eating his remaining ice cream*

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #captain atom #nathaniel adam #arthur curry #aquaman #j’onn j’onzz #martian manhunter #hawkgirl #shayera hol #shayera thal

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floppnopikka · 1 day ago

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〔ㅤㅤㅤKang Dae-ho X Reader ㅤㅤㅤ〕

Kang Dae-ho is seen as a bright person, the other players immediately warmed up to him because of his approachable and happy nature. A proud ex-marine who boasts his bravery to those who dare disrespect him. You, of course, developed an admiration towards the bubbly man, even when his corny jokes make you laugh, finding them funny to be completely honest.

As the game went by and people were shrinking to a number, you couldn't help but notice the way Dae-ho was.. scared. You observed that he was hiding his fear very well but you noticed the way he would flinch at the gunshots, the way he looks at the dead body with fear, and his dazed expression after the pink soldiers carry the dead body or after the gunshots.

Seong Gi-hun and the others decided to stop the game once and for all as they planned to raid the control room and let everyone be free in this hellhole. Gunshots, screams, and thuds can be heard from above as some of us players can only sit and imagine what was happening from above. Suddenly, Dae-ho came back, almost out of breath, trembling with fear, and he seemed to be muttering something about bullets as he tried to pull out the magazines from the dead pink guards on the floor.

Everyone glanced at him, wondering why he was in such a hurry to grab the ammo from the pink guards. Park Yong-sik/player 007 slowly approached him as he also wonders what was happening.

"Dae-ho, what's going on? Why are you here on your own?" Yong-sik asked as he worriedly glanced and slowly approached Dae-ho, who was trembling from head to toe.

"Our magazines ran out, it's in their pockets. I need you to help me, okay? Quickly!" Dae-ho said as he stammered his way of speaking and almost out of breath, it was obvious how scared he is based on his tone.

Once you heard that he needed help gathering the ammo from the pink guards, you immediately started looking for it and so did Yong-sik who was obviously scared of the fact that he didn't know what was happening above and can only do what Dae-ho requested to help the others.

A few minutes have gone by, we gathered every ammo we can find to Dae-ho, you glanced at Yong-sik and his mother as they nodded to each other for support.

"That's it. We searched for everyone." Yong-sik confirmed to Dae-ho as he also contributed what he found as he nodded to us, perhaps a way for him of showing gratitude, picking it up with the jacket full of magazines he immediately wrapped it around and placed it on his chest tightly and securely as he made his way out in the room.

Once Dae-ho got out of the room, you secretly followed him even when Yong-sik's mother tried to stop you from going but abruptly stopped walking as we all heard the gunshots again as you quickly checked for Dae-ho. There he was, paralyzed in fear as he heard the gunshots, flinching and seemingly backing up from fear.

"Dae-ho!" You called out his name but it seems like he was in deep thought to notice my voice.

You slowly approach him and it was clear as the daylight that his breathing was uneven, his body trembling and his face shown in a daze... He's having a panic attack.

"Dae-ho—" you couldn't even finish the sentence as he immediately ran away inside as you followed him, Yong-sik and his mother, even the other players in the room glanced at him as he made his way on one of the bed as he dropped the magazines beside him.

You caught up to Dae-ho only to see him trembling in fear as he positioned himself like a ball, hands on his ears, whimpering and seemingly crying.

You and Jang Geum-ja/player 149 glanced at each other, understanding the situation he is in right now.

You carefully try to approach Dae-ho without scaring him and call out his name softly but no budge at all, his hands covered his ears. Suddenly, Cho Hyun-ju/player 120 came running inside looking around and yelling his name for Dae-ho if he is here.

"Dae-ho! Dae-ho! Dae-ho, where are you? Has anyone seen Dae..." Hyun-ju slowly lowered her voice as she gets the signal when Yong-sik pointed where Dae-ho is hiding.

You moved away for Hyun-ju to see Dae-ho, Hyun-ju called out his name and wondered what was going on, Dae-ho looked up and flinched back to see Hyun-ju.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" Dae-ho apologized knowing he backed down even when his comrades was fighting for their life. Hyun-ju leaned in as she asked where's the magazines but Dae-ho felt like he was useless and kept muttering apologies as he pointed where the magazines are.

The pink guards suddenly came to a view inside the room with their guns on hand as Hyun-ju was getting ready to load her gun to fight off the guards. You turned your gaze to Dae-ho who was still shaking like a leaf and his lips quivering, his hands still covering his ears, it was a pitiful sight honestly. A person who's full of life and shines like the sun, pressured and have to witness such brutality and trauma.

You lean yourself to Dae-ho for him to see you but he flinched back and looked away, perhaps because of guilt? Shame? Who knows perhaps both, perhaps for other reasons.

"Dae-ho.." you pat his shoulder lightly but it seems it didn't work on him so you try it again but nothing. He was still deep inside his memories, a PTSD episode...

You took a deep breath as you looked at Dae-ho with soft and easy eyes, you called out his name much more clear for him to clear as his trembling form and widened eyes finally gazes up to yours.

"Hey.. I'm here..." You told him, rubbing circles on his knee to calm him down.

"I-I don't want to be here anymore... I wanna go home..." He sobs and whimpers louder, like a child looking for his mother or maybe his father, perhaps one of his 4 sisters? Or all of them? Who knows and all you can do is to calm him down and bring back to his senses.

"Hey, hey.. we're going home, just a bit more longer and we'll all get out of here... I promise you that.." and you were sure as hell you'll be keeping that promise, not to him but also to yourself. You had enough of this madness and chaos, Dae-ho calmed down slightly as he grabbed your hand tightly that made you surprised.

"Please stay... I can't take this anymore, I wanna go home, home with sisters.. I don't wanna die here..." He lets out a loud sob as I immediately calmed him down and not wanting to attract the pink guards some suspicions in this area.

" I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, we'll get out of here soon, m'kay? Just a bit longer and I want you to be strong, strong for yourself, for us... for me.." I looked at him straight in the eyes to see if he understands, to see if I can trust him enough to be strong for himself.

He hesitantly nodded as his breathing calmed down and no longer ragged, you looked around and to see Yong-sik and his mother at each other's arms to hold, Hyun-ju still on guard with her gun, and everyone else in this room is terrified, horrified of what will happen next.. and so were you.

Unbeknownst, you and Dae-ho were still holding hands, too tightly, to feel each other's warmth, security, and.. to know that you both are still alive.

You hope that you're newfound friends, who you now consider a family, get out of this hellhole alive and in one piece. Eat samgyeopsal together, pay off all your debts, cheers to the victory you all achieved, and perhaps.. find love along the way. Who knows, maybe it's already the one who you felt your hands with but unfortunately grasped away from the touch of your hands as he fell asleep from exhaustion.

A/N: Hello everyone! I am very sorry for not updating for months! Writer's block got the best of me and the Christmas season happened, same goes to new year's, also, Happy New Year everyone! I hope you all enjoy the story!

#squid game #x reader #kang dae ho #player 388 #ptsd tw #slight angst #fluff #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n

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cherrysurf · 3 days ago

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Winning you back

-where the haikyu boys try to win back you their ex gf.

-contains; daichi, suga, hinata, kageyama, kenma, kuroo, suna, osamu

winning you pt.2!

Daichi; This man is a cop BEST FUCKING BELIEVE hes out patrolling by your usual bars definitely not on purpose to watch over you, so of course you coming out a bar hammered and ready to head home but your friends wanting you drag you to another bar you quickly look for an alibi and who was the best one the cop that was standing right behind you “uh huh no can do this officer said he’d arrest me if i went to another bar right sir” you say slurring your words a bit “that’s right ma’am” the voice sounding awfully familiar till you turn around and see daichi which made your cheeks turn painfully red not just from the alcohol now.. “w-well come on you know the way back to my house let’s go.” you say flustered but really can’t back down now “alright let’s go missy want me to carry you like i used too can you walk home?” he said, smirking very much enjoying this. “carry me.” you whispered “huh? I can't hear you, can you say it louder?” he asked cupping his ear as if to mock you “oh whatever daichi i can walk” you say pushing past him to walk ahead, when you feel strong buff arms pick you up “it’s Mr.daichi to you tonight yn.” he said laughing you roll your eyes and scoff.

sugawara; THIS MAN he is pulling out the “oh the kids wanted me to bring this to you they said they miss you dropping off my lunches and saying hi” because of course you still kept in contact after the breakup because he was mature on it and it was just because you guys were so close and you had formed a bond with his students so imagine how excited him and the kids get when you come in a week later bringing suga lunch “OOOO MISS YN IS BACKKKK” they all say, safe to say suga knew he had you back into his life after that day

hinata; this man is PERSISTENT he’d send you tickets for all his home games even if you guys aren’t talking and then one fateful night it was a big important game for hinata that you had knew about before you two had ended things so you decided to show up and wear his jersey in support, the tickets he’d always give you were up close to the court so if you ever did show up he’d know. Imagine the look on his face when he saw you, he was already feeling down and was actually starting to give up hope on any idea of you coming back together. that all changed after he saw you not just being there but wearing his jersey at that, safe to say he showed off and won and took you out to dinner as a “thank you” gift.

kageyama; I know everyone writes kageyama nonchalant but imagine YEARNING KAGEYAMA with me for a sec this man is sending you flowers every other week the first time he sent you them with a note a attached to it saying “even if we’re not together i refuse to have your flower vase empty so let me take care of that for you.” and it’s never the same flowers it’s always perfect curated ones for every week or two that somehow perfectly aligned with your mood, maybe it’s because he still follows you on instagram even if you have him on follow back because he cares about you, so it’s your birthday week and the wave of presents you get from this man ALONE was insane and then on your birthday you wake up to tons of tags and mentions but one stuck out specifically it was from kageyama's instagram on his VERY PUBLIC might i add it’s a picture of you but not your face showing with a small sentence saying “happy birthday ml i’ll never stop caring for you” safe to say that night you went out to a birthday dinner with him.

kuroo; you and him ended on good terms and also because you two had booked a trip before you two had broken up that you still decided to go on, you thinking it was a simple get together for break maybe even going off to do your own things at the place but for kuroo it was a week long of “how to get yn back” it involved romantic dates, walks on the beach, impressing you, dressing up, compliments alamode the whole nine. Which worked out successfully because by the time you guys came back he was already talking about getting engaged.

kenma; You two wouldn’t have been on speaking terms for about 3 weeks until you noticed an invite sent to you on discord to join a minecraft world, you being bored and curious click on it and find that he made an ENTIRE world dedicated to you and saying sorry, i kid you not even minutes later you get a knock at your door, as you look down you find a gift basket for all your favorite snacks, gift cards from various of your favorite stores, v-bucks and a cute apologetic note. You know kenma knows that he's probably lingering around the area in his car. That’s when you text him “doors unlock come inside let’s 1v1 i know you brought your gaming stuff.” and that he did, NOT EVEN 5 minutes later you hear a knock and kenma with a smile and arms full of his gaming stuff.

suna; he’d take a different approach to getting you back because as serious as he was he was always super funny so imagine your reaction when you hear music coming from your front yard while it was raining to find suna with a boombox over his head blasting your favorite song, you ended up recording this whole ordeal and sending it to atsumu and osamu since they needed some blackmail after countless years of blackmail suna had on them, by the second repeat of the song you had called him to come inside and gave him a warm cup a tea as you laugh about the situation and he gets spammed by texts from the miyas about how stupid it was of him to do this he didn’t care because he was wrapped up in your blanket, with your tea you made for him, and was gonna stay at your house because the rain only got worse after that.

osamu; It’s been about a week of no contact even though neither of you had mentioned it, it was killing you both. Anyways it was the first day of your period and you were craving his cooking because you fully believed it was the only thing that healed you from cramps as you were about to head out for the convenient store to find something to suppress your cravings that’s until you see him at your door which startled you a bit “gosh osamu you scared me what are you doing here?” you asked confused yet happy “uhm i still had your period tracker on my phone..NOT IN A WEIRD WAY i promise i just forgot to delete it and i know how you usually like my food on the first day since it’s your worst day so i'd figure id stop by..” he said nervously “well..you guess right i was gonna go to the store if you wanna come we can get groceries so you can cook i don’t have anything right now” you say happy inside that he came to your rescue “okay i'll drive.” he says happily to weasel his way back into his pretty ex gfs life

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screamingatanemptyroom · 3 days ago

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“Happy Birthday, my dearest sister!”

Iris walked into her home, the rotting door’s hinges squealing in protest against the movement, only to be greeted by the sight of a brightly decorated room, with a prince holding a cake in the center of it.

Iris let out a quiet sigh, closing the door behind her. She set down her basket of unsold flowers and carefully removed her shoes, cleaning the muddy snow off of them before setting them down in their proper place. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she looked around again. Her clean but rundown room was all but unrecognizable, with cheerful banners and streamers hung in every available space. The few magical lamps she kept and used sparingly due to the high cost of fuel, were all on at the highest setting, making her frown at the waste.

“…” Iris stared silently at the prince and his advisor behind him, who both stared equally silently back.

"Are you sure this is the one?" He broke first, whispering to the man on his right.

“We are sure, Your Highness. It has been triple confirmed by the court sorcerer. She also bears a star shaped birthmark below her right ear, which was noted at your sister’s birth. This is your long-lost sister, Theodora.” His advisor whispered back.

“…Then why doesn’t she seem excited to see me?”

“Perhaps she’s just overly surprised?”

Iris sighed again.

“Why don’t you have a seat, and we can talk about this over tea.” It had been a long cold day selling flowers on the street, her fingers and toes were numb. She was tired, cold and cranky. This may be a pivotal moment that would change the course of her entire life…

But that was not going to stop her from getting her tea.

The prince shook his head, seeming to break from his shock. “Ah, yes… tea… Gareld…can you…”

“I’ll do it.” Iris interrupted. “He doesn’t know where anything is.” And she didn’t want him snooping around her home, either.

“I can help…” Gareld stepped closer, an uncertain look on his face.

“Both of you. Sit.” Her tone did not allow for argument, and both men sat down, staring silently as she moved around making tea. Iris checked her stock. She still had some dried fairy flowers, which made for a cool refreshing tea when brewed correctly. She hesitated briefly, not really wanting to waste her best tea on these visitors.

I guess Royalty should get your best tea. She tried not to sigh again and failed.

The tea was made quickly. The prince watched appreciatively at her calm, practiced movements, her neatly tied red curls swaying behind her.

“You look just like our mother did, you know.” His voice was wistful, remembering.

“I wouldn’t know.” Her voice was cold.

“…I suppose that is true.” The Prince took the tea she handed him, taking a sip to cover up his embarrassment. He was clearly not expecting much, given their surroundings, but his eyes widened in shock and appreciation. “This is good tea!”

“Thank you.” Iris accepted the complement calmly, drinking from her own cup. “Now can you please explain your purpose here today?”

“Yes. Well.” He was clearly thrown by her calm demeanor but seemed to collect himself. “I am Prince Anthony, the second born prince of the Royal family. I am here because you… you are actually my sister Theodora. You are a princess.”

“…” A silence fell over the table. After drinking more tea and warming herself up, Iris finally picked up the conversation once more.

“I see.”

She stirred her tea, staring down at the dried petals floating on the surface. “If I am your sister, why has that only been discovered now? I have grown up on the streets for as long as I can remember. I have been making a living selling flowers, since the old woman who looked after me died several years ago.”

“…” Anthony seemed embarrassed. “You were switched at birth.”

“By who? And with who?”

He didn’t seem to want to meet her eyes in the face of her calm questions. “I don’t know who switched you two… but you were switched with another girl, who we raised believing to be you. I only know her as Theodora. I don’t know what her name was before the switch she was a newborn, like you.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” He still wasn’t meeting her gaze. Guilty conscience? She wondered.

He seemed to read something in her tone, getting slightly worked up. “Theodora is innocent in this! She was horrified to find out that she wasn’t who she said she was! She cried for days, wishing she could trade places with you, return everything she had taken from you!” He shook his head. “Silly girl, she blames herself for the sins of others. Of course you wouldn’t blame her!”

Iris raised an eyebrow at his confident tone. “Of course.” She smiled, the expression polite but cold. “So, are you here to bring me back to the palace?”

“Yes! When the court mages finally located you, the whole family was anxious to bring you back!” He pointed to the decorations and cake he had brought. “It’s actually your eighteenth birthday! You probably didn’t know.”

“…” Iris studied the cake and decorations. “So why just you?”

“What?” Anthony’s smile faded slowly.

“If the whole family is anxious to get me back, why only send you?” She thought it over. “The Queen died giving birth, but I have another brother besides you, correct? The crown prince, Dominic? And my father is still alive and well?”

There was a long pause, as if he hadn’t expected her to ask that.

“…They are at your sister’s party.” He finally answered.

Iris chuckled. “I have a sister? I was not aware of another princess in the family.”

“It’s Theodora.” He shook his head. “The OTHER Theodora, I mean. We had been planning this celebration for months. We couldn’t move it. In fact, we should probably be leaving soon, or we’ll be late for the party.”

Iris rubbed her forehead tiredly. “Are you planning to bring me to this party?”

“Of course!” Anthony seemed shocked she would even ask. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my sister!”

“And how are you planning on explaining my identity… and more importantly HER identity, when I show up? Are you making the announcement that she’s a fake princess at her birthday party?” She leaned back, taking another sip of her tea. “That seems unkind.”

“WHAT?” His hand slapped down on the table, rattling the cups and teapot sitting on top. “Theodora is not a fake! She…” Anthony hesitated. “She’s just… a victim, like you.”

“I see.” Iris sat her cup down firmly and smiled again. “Then let’s plan for me to return to the palace tomorrow then. You can go enjoy the birthday party with Theodora, without my presence complicating public perception of her.” She stood up, not subtly indicating to her guests that they were expected to leave.

Anthony’s expression was complicated. “But… I’m here to bring you back.” He stood up dazedly, his advisor standing up as well, having stayed thoughtfully silent the entire conversation. Iris became guiding them towards the door.

“I know, and thank you. I’ll take tonight to pack my things. Just send a carriage to pick me up in the morning.”

“But… Theodora…” He was obviously calling her, and Iris interrupted him, frowning.

“Just call me Iris. I grew up with the name, and it will be too confusing with two Theodoras running around the castle.”

Anthony grabbed her hand. “But it’s your name. Our mother gave it to you.”

“And someone stole it from me, gave it to someone else and dropped me in the slums to die.” Her tone was dry, but Anthony winced as if she had struck him, letting go of her. “Just call me Iris. It’s easier.”

“Okay… Iris.”

“Good, now goodbye for now. Enjoy the party.”

With that she pushed them out of the door, closing and locking it behind them. She put her back against the wooden panels, ignoring the rough grain digging into her skin, and froze for an unknown amount of time. Slowly, she made her way back to her table, turning down the magical lamps to save fuel, cleaning up the used cups and tea pot, before sitting down and putting her head in her hands.

She was a princess.

Perhaps if anyone else had heard the news, especially someone who had been living in the slums, they would be ecstatic. It was a path forward full of opportunities, a chance to completely change her difficult, cold and lonely life.

But Iris was not excited.

Not that she didn’t want change. She hated her current life, the dangers, the struggle to get by, the constant wariness to protect herself. She was not indifferent to finding her family, either. She had longed for family affection her entire life. The old woman who raised her did so mostly to have someone to run errands for her. There was very little affection between them. To have a father and brothers who would care about her… it was a dream come true…

And unfortunately for her, it was a dream come true.

Every year since she was ten years old, she had had recurring dreams. Odd strange, vibrant dreams. Visions that sometimes seemed more real than the world around her, vividly remembered when she woke up in the morning. At least once a month, sometimes with more frequency, but always in a similar theme.

In her dreams, she lived in another world. A different life, filled with technology and science rather than magic. Of elections and leaders rather than royalty. And in this world she was still called Iris, but was an actress. She participated in many television shows and movies, had a moderate amount of fame, and many fans to cheer her on. But the project she was embroiled in, was a complex plot about a magical realm. Her character was a young woman, a princess who had been separated from birth from her family. She grew up on the streets until her eighteenth birthday at which time she was found and returned home.

An interesting, dramatic story. There was just one problem:

Her character wasn’t the heroine.

She was the villain.

Or one of the villains. Not even the main threat to the hero and heroine. She returned to the palace, only to find a replacement her family loved dearly in her spot. Filled with jealousy and spite, she spent most of her time trying to set traps for the woman who took her place, only to have each and every plot go wrong. The woman she hated escaped time and time again, and slowly, her father the king and her brothers grew weary of her trouble, sending her overseas to be married to an old and perverted foreign king. They had thought she would be married to one of his sons, but didn’t spend enough time or effort to show her importance to the royal family. Coveting her beauty, the old king took her into his harem.

She jumped off the roof of the palace on the night of her wedding. None of her family knew of or mourned her loss.

The heroine, the girl who had grown up as the princess she was meant to be, thrived under the love and care of the king and princes. She ended up marrying a neighboring prince, the fiancé that had been promised since birth, a man who Iris’ character had also fallen in love with, but failed at all attempts to get close.

Most of her dreams centered around the filming of this project.

Iris had always been confused by these dreams, convinced it just a strange experience that meant nothing, until one year ago, when she heard a story teller in a tavern talking about the royal family:

The crown prince Dominic. The second born prince Anthony. The princess Theodora.

All names she knew very well.

The characters in the story her dream-self acted in.

And the more she pondered this, the clearer it became. Her age, her features, the distinctive birthmark… Iris remembered having the make up artist draw it on below her ear in her dream, but she didn’t need make up in the waking world. She had the birth mark, a clear small star, since she was a child. A mark that meant something horrible:

She was the lost princess.

She was the villainess, doomed to be hated, to be sent away and kill herself in despair.

Over the last year she paid close attention to her dreams, writing down what she remembered, trying to understand the story of her possible future. Even as she prepared, she hoped, deep in her heart, that her dreams were wrong. That they were a strange delusion, a mix of stories of the royal family and facts about herself, combined in her sleeping brain. Maybe it was just what she had thought it was before: a peculiar dream.

Until her eighteenth birthday arrived.

And Prince Anthony arrived with it, right on schedule.

She stared down at her clenched fists, as the multicolored streamers hung around her, a cake sitting coldly in front of her, the icing starting to melt, and sighed.

She was unsure why she had been given these dreams, this warning of her future.

But she did understand one thing:

She would not suffer the same fate as the character Iris had played in her dreams.

_____________________________________________

Prince Anthony sat in his carriage, traveling back to the palace. He leaned back against the cushions, his eyes closed, his brow furrowed. As they drew closer to home, he finally spoke up, breaking the tense silence.

“Gareld… did I do something wrong?”

“Your Highness?”

Anthony opened his eyes, a confused light in the dark pupils. “I thought she would be excited to learn she had family. All the information about her… her struggles to survive by selling flowers… with no one to help her… I thought she would leap at the chance to go home.”

“She didn’t seem UNHAPPY, sir.”

“But she wasn’t happy, either.” He sighed, twisting a ring on his right hand. “Should I not have brought up Theodora?”

Gareld shook his head. “It’s not like you could have avoided it. Better she know now then find out at the palace.”

“I know it’s not her fault… she’s a victim too. So, she shouldn’t blame Theodora, right? But why do I feel so guilty?”

“Princess Theodora and Princess Iris were both the subject of this malicious swap… but Princess Theodora grew up loved and cherished, a princess where she may not have enjoyed such luxury before, but Princess Iris… She has suffered more.” Gereld hesitated. “Besides, your father and Prince Dominic have not determined how to settle Princess Theodora’s identity. If they fully restore Princess Iris to her place, that will cause many issues for Theodora, not excluding her marriage arrangement to Prince Greyson. If you had brought Princess Iris to the party tonight… they may have made a rash decision to protect Princess Theodora, even at the cost of your new sister.”

“I almost caused her harm, didn’t I?”

“Not intentionally, Your Highness.”

“I just wanted to bring her home.” Anthony whispered, feeling pain in his heart and her bland, cold expression when facing him. “Why is it so complicated?”

“You father and brother will figure things out. I would just focus on making your sister feel welcome. It will be a difficult transition, no matter what.”

Anthony seemed to come to a determination, an excited light in his eye. “All right then! I’ll make sure she’s taken care of! Let’s go make sure Iris’s room and servants are arranged properly!”

Gareld looked confused. “What about Princess Theodora’s party?”

“I already gave her my gift, she’ll understand. There are hundreds of people there. But my sister… she doesn’t have anyone. I need to make sure she’s welcomed!”

_____________________________________________

Iris ate a piece of the cake her brother had left, enjoying the high-quality treat. It reminded her of the cakes in her dream. There had a been a special bakery she had gone to, usually on her birthday. She had to sneak there, her agent and personal trainer strictly forbid sweets. She had not had the chance to taste such delicious things in this world, though, her money was better spent on things for survival.

After she finished, she made her way to her room, opening a secret panel behind her bed. Her home was small, and even smaller after she built a secret compartment in the back. But it had been worth it, to keep her secrets safe. As she entered the room, she was surrounded by flowers. Hundreds of colorful bright flowers, each in the state of perfect bloom. On the wall, small pots of herbs grew heartily, their grassy scent combining with the sweet smell of the flowers.

Her first advantage was knowing her story, and with that came certain benefits.

Like knowing she had magical abilities solely available to royal blood. In the story, one of the reasons the king brought Iris back was that he needed to use her gifts, which included the ability to grow plants in any environment. She had agreed readily in the story, hoping to earn her father’s affection by aiding him. Unfortunately for her, her usefulness did not outweigh her shortcomings, as she targeted Theodora again and again. And the king chose to abandon her with little hesitation.

Iris frowned, feeling a stabbing pain in her heart. She thought she had come to peace with her knowledge of the future. However, at the thought of the father she had never met, a strong desire for family affection and love still rose within her. She firmly pushed it down, focusing on the room around her.

Once she suspected the reality of the dream, she had used the knowledge of the story to tap into her royal magic. There was still strict limits on her abilities, mostly by the seeds she had access too and the space she had to grow, but it allowed her to sell fresh, beautiful flowers, even in the midst of winter.

The herbs had proved useful as well.

She carefully packed a few small choice plants and seeds, only carrying a tiny fraction of the room within. She wasn’t ready to reveal her knowledge of her abilities just yet. The more she knew, and the less they knew, the better.

Iris packed the remainder of her belongings, fitting everything into two small bags. She then laid down, and prepared to rest.

Tomorrow she would see her family, and the heroine of this story, Theodora.

She was ready.

_____________________________________________

As promised by Anthony, a royal carriage arrived in the morning to pick her up. She handed her bags to the footman and prepared to step in, only to pause at the sight of a hand reaching out to help her in to the carriage.

Surprised, she saw Anthony’s grinning face and took his hand, letting him help her to the seat across from him. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t let my little sister come home alone, can I?”

He spent the ride to the palace chattering in a cheerful tone about the arrangements he had done to set up her living space. Iris listened in somewhat of a daze, feeling unsure.

Iris had not been arranged living quarters in the story. In fact, that was the source of one of the early conflicts between the heroine and the villainess. Iris had been mentally preparing for that confrontation… only to find out the story had already changed.

Did delaying my arrival to the next morning already change things so much? It both relieved Iris to know she COULD change things, and terrified her about whether she SHOULD. Her advantage was based mainly in her knowledge of the story, but if that changed… she would be on her own.

“Are you okay?” Anthony noticed her distraction, pausing in his descriptions to check in with her.

Iris smiled at him, the first genuine smile she had given him since his arrival on her birthday. “I’ll be okay.” And I will. My goal is to get a different ending for myself. A better ending. And the only way to do that is to change things. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. This is a good start.

She looked out the window, unaware that her brother had frozen in shock at the sight of her bright smile. When she smiled like that, her eyes lit up, and she looked just liked their mother. He cheered himself on, glad he had chosen to spend time arranging for her arrival.

As the carriage came to a stop, Anthony helped her down from the carriage, leading her in excitedly towards the royal quarters. As he entered a central sitting room, he called out:

“Father! Dominic! I brought her!”

Two men in the room stood up at his words, turning to look at Iris.

And iris studied them as well.

Tall, handsome, with light hair and grey eyes, they looked very different from her, who resembled their mother with her red hair and more delicate features. Anthony pointed at them, and grinned to Iris.

“This is your father, and your oldest brother!”

The older of the two stepped forward, a solemn look on his lined face.

“Theodora, you’ve returned.”

At his words, a beautiful young woman who was sitting on a nearby couch stood up, her lightly curled blond locks swaying behind her. She reached forward, grabbing the King’s hand with a brave smile.

“Silly me, I almost thought you were talking to me, Father! But of course you are talking to your real daughter.” She turned to Iris with a tearful expression. “Sister, I must beg for your forgiveness! Even though I am a victim of this switch as well, and have lost my blood relatives, I have grown up with father and brothers, who have treated me well. You deserve to take everything, it should have been yours from the start!” She began to cry, while Iris watched on.

Good tears, nice volume, angles her face well to take advantage of the shape and appear more remorseful.

As someone who had lived years inside her dreams as a professional actress, however, it was too fake.

Iris recognized this scene, although the setting was different. It was the meeting between Theodora the heroine and Iris the villainess.

_____________________________________________

“Scene 4, Take 2. ACTION!”

CLACK!

Theodora stepped closer, tears still running down her face. “Sister, I can never repay what you have lost, but first, I will give you back your name. I have held it for too long!” She sobbed prettily into her hands. “I don’t know what I’ll go by… but you can be Theodora… the real Theodora from now on!”

“Wait!” The King spoke up, patting Theodora gently on the head. “Let’s not be too hasty. We have been calling Theodora by this name for eighteen years. It would be silly to change things now.”

Theodora smiled at him, but then cast a worried glance at Iris, as if afraid of her anger. “But what should we call sister then?”

“My name is…”

“Let’s call her Dora.” Dominic spoke up, interrupting his sister’s words. “We shorten Theodora’s name to Theo sometimes, so Dora would be the most appropriate.”

She stared at her family with growing rage. “Theodora is MY name! Why can’t I be called by MY NAME? Why does this… this… FAKE… get to keep MY NAME!”

Theodora broke down. “I knew sister hates me! I should leave the palace! I’ll just make her sadder if I stay!”

Anthony stepped in. “Of course you’re not leaving! You’re our sister no matter what!” He turned to his sister. “Apologize to Theodora… Dora!”

“CUT!”

_____________________________________________

Iris looked up, just in time to see Theodora step closer, right on cue. “Sister, I can never repay what you have lost, but first, I will give you back your name…”

“No, that’s okay, you keep it. I’ll just go by Iris.” Iris interrupted her, bringing up a gentle, kind smile. Using her memories of acting, she looked at Theodora as if looking a loved family member. “I know you must be uncomfortable, with me showing up out of nowhere. You have been with my father and brothers all these years, taking care of them when I couldn’t. I must thank you, dear Theodora. I couldn’t possibly take your name!”

“…What?” Theodora forgot to keep pretending to cry, staring at Iris with consternation.

“It’s nice to see you are a sensible girl.” The King spoke up, smiling approvingly at them both. “We will refer to you as Iris. Welcome home!”

“We’ll need to settle their identities.” Dominic looked at Iris cautiously, his eyes calculating. “After all, Theodora has publicly been the princess for the last eighteen years.”

Iris smiled. “I will follow whatever you and father think is best.”

Before Dominic could speak again, Anthony jumped in. “Let’s discuss it later. Iris has to see her new rooms!” Ignoring any awkwardness, he grabbed Iris’ hand and pulled her further into the palace.

Iris turned and smiled at the three as she was led away. She especially enjoyed Theodora’s annoyed face, before she quickly gained control of her expression.

Alright, first confrontation is a point for me. Only a few hundred more to go. She turned back to her brother who led her away, feeling warm. I don’t know why he’s different… but I’m glad he is.

As she was about to speak up to thank him, however, Anthony came to a sudden halt, causing her to crash into his back.

“Ouch!” She grabbed her nose which had been the main point of impact, her eyes tearing from the blow, and looked past her brother at the point of obstruction.

“Mage Vicente! What brings you to the palace?” Anthony seemed confused, but not nervous.

The man who blocked them looked at them both with a calm smile. He was a young man, good looking enough to make even Iris who had memories of working with multiple top-level actors take notice. His hair was covered under a hood, a large cloak covering most of his tall form, but his eyes, a bright green color, were filled with a knowledge that made whoever looked in them nervous.

Iris stared at him, confused.

There was no mention of a Mage Vincente in the story in her dreams.

Who is this? A very minor character? Iris felt she would have remembered him.

“I was just here to confirm something.” Vincente studied Iris carefully, then nodded. “Welcome back, Your Highness.”

Iris felt like his words had a deeper meaning, but was unsure of what it could be.

“It was Vincente whose magic confirmed that you were the true princess, Iris!” Anthony spoke up.

“I see.” Iris was more confused than ever, made worse by the fact that he seemed very familiar… but she couldn’t remember from where. “Thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure, Iris.” He bowed solemnly, but his eyes seemed… amused… more than anything. Without another word, he walked away, his robe swaying with his wide steps.

“Don’t mind him, Iris. All mages are a bit odd.”

“Odd…” Iris watched the man’s leaving back. “That seems to be the right word for it.”

They arrived at her rooms, which were carefully decorated and filled with beautiful furniture, jewelry, makeup and clothes. Anthony showed her around the room, pointing with glee at the different choices he had made.

“I don’t know if the gowns will fit, so I’ll have the dressmaker stop by later today to help fit you! Hopefully these will be a good start!” He grinned at her, and Iris smiled back.

“Thank you… Brother.” She stepped forward, giving him a cautious hug. Anthony hugged her tightly back, blinking back tears.

“Welcome home!” After a few more words he left, and Iris was alone.

She looked around the rooms, overwhelmed.

The story is already so different. My brother, these rooms, the meeting… the mage.”

She remembered vividly the scene of her character jumping to her death in a foreign land.

“Not different enough.” She muttered.

She would change the story completely.

This… was just the start.

You are a poor girl selling flowers. Today is your birthday but no one knows. When you return home you find the prince of the kingdom waiting for you with a birthday cake. "Are you sure this is the one?" He whispers to his advisor.

#writing #fantasy #magic #dreams #replacement #royalty #changed destiny #Happy new year guys #I'm back

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superdupersillyme · 2 days ago

Note

twst housewardens with a yuu!reader that has lifeless eyes?

𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚂 𝚡 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜

🍒SFW🍒 🍒Word count: 1625🍒 🍒Notes: first request let's gooo!🍒

𝚁𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜:

You felt a hand smack the back of your head. “Must you always look so grim? You’ll wilt my roses if you keep staring at them that way!”

It wasn’t the roses Riddle was worried about, but he’d rather die than admit otherwise. No matter how many parties and events he prepared, how many gifts he showered you in, you always looked on the verge of tears, and the housewarden was beginning to lose his patience. Riddle stepped in front of you, in all his 5'2 glory, and held his head high. “Pay attention. I demand that, from now on, you attempt to improve your smiling skills.” You blinked once, twice. Was he serious? A silly question, really. Riddle was always serious. “Are you deaf? Go on, try it! And make sure it reaches your eyes, like so.” He gave you a fake grin that more resembled a pained grimace than anything else. The entire situation was so absurd that you couldn’t help but snicker and chuckle. The sound made butterflies go wild inside the boy’s stomach. He wanted to order time itself to freeze so he could capture that rare image of you on canvas. A smile, genuine this time, tugged on his lips. “Ah, there it is. Much better. I’ll keep in mind that you’re an easy one to amuse.”

𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚖 𝙰𝚕-𝙰𝚜𝚒𝚖:

It wasn’t flattering anymore. You were being forced to carry around entire pantries worth of snacks and bouquets of flowers as if it were your wedding day. And when you turned a corner to see Kalim, you’d have to quietly sneak away and pray he didn’t see you.

Because if he did, you’re in for at least a full hour of endless yapping. And then an invitation to hang out, which meant more yapping. Kalim knew you weren’t fond of it. Of him, perhaps. Even so, he couldn’t stop himself from buying that one flavor of soda you said you liked, or that cute teddy bear that reminded him of you. It’s not like he couldn’t afford it all. But one day, while handing you yet another handful of roses, he suddenly looked...insecure. “Hey, uh, by the way...” He averted his eyes and cleared his throat. “You know I’m just worried, right? I-I’m not trying to win any favors or whatever. You just look like you need some cheering up, I guess. You know, ‘cuz you’re always...frowning. Sorry, is it too much...?”

It was. But right then and there, looking at those puppy eyes, you realized that you didn’t mind.

𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚊 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛:

The first time you noticed it was when Leona turned around one day to find you standing behind him. He flinched. But it was a fast, subtle reaction, and he managed to play it off. But strange things kept happening: He would avoid walking past you on the corridors. He would shift uncomfortably in place when you’d enter a room. He’d actively avoid picking on you, to everyone’s surprise. Leona would usually love the opportunity to mess with a newcomer.

Suddenly, it dawned on you: he was scared. And the man himself confirmed it, because when you asked, he might as well have run off to hide. Leona tried to vehemently deny it, mostly by stuttering out insults and empty threats. But when it became clear you weren’t falling for any of it, the lion gave up. “Listen, y-you just...” He ran a hand through his messy hair and grunted. “You look creepy as hell, okay?! Is it my fault that you look like a goddamn ghost?”

The man pointed a clawed finger at your face and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare spread this around, y’hear? Creepy or not, I can still snap you in half like a twig.” You nodded, but said nothing else. There was a beat of silence while you two kept eye contact. Leona’s expression shifted, and you thought he was about to back off in fear...

...but was that a blush on his cheeks?

Before you could comment on it, he used the finger he had been pointing at you to shove your forehead. “Stop staring at me with those big ol’ eyes!”

𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚊:

Malleus had been watching you from afar. Someone else might have realized that that kind of behavior was inappropriate at best and creepy at worst, but the prince was too infatuated to care.

Then, one night, while you were out for some fresh air, he gathered enough courage to approach.

“Are you unhappy, human?” It was such a nuanced question, yet he asked it so casually. “You don’t have to share your struggles with a stranger, of course. But I see pain behind your eyes, and it bothers me.”

You did, in fact, not share. But you let Malleus stay. You kept finding each other outside, almost every night, and it was not a coincidence: a secretly scheduled date of sorts. He’d walk with you under the moonlight, in complete silence at first. Then, he began talking about his day, asking you about yours, going on tangents about his interests... His voice was soothing, it almost sounded like a lullaby. You thought you could fall asleep to it.

And you did, a few months later, while you were both sitting on a bench and Malleus spoke about this one book he had found interesting. Your head came to rest upon his shoulder, and your eyelids fluttered close. The prince only realized you were not listening anymore when a soft snore interrupted him. He smiled. Had that always been the issue? Were you simply tired, and it reflected in your appearance? It didn’t matter, not in that moment. In that moment...you looked happy.

𝙸𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚍:

“Your eyes are so pretty... Have I ever told you that?” He had. Many times before, ever since you began dating and he managed to come out of his shell. Idia would make sure to remind you often: personally, through text, and you’d often catch him staring with a lovestruck expression, silently admiring your features. You couldn’t understand it. All your life, you’ve heard many adjectives directed at you, but none of them were exactly positive. Lifeless. Gloomy. Sickly. The fact that Idia insisted on complimenting you felt almost like a white lie, then. A way to make you feel better. When you voiced those concerns to him, his arms tightened their grip around you protectively. There was a beat of silence as Idia considered what to answer. “You know...People used to make fun of my smile a lot. Because of the sharp teeth. So I just...stopped smiling often, so no one could see it. But you find my smile cute, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah, well, see what I mean? When I’m with you, I smile all the time, don’t I? We might look weird to others, but, between you and me...” He moved a strand of hair off your eyes with a lanky finger. ”...we’re the cutest.”

𝙰𝚣𝚞𝚕 𝙰𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘:

“I just want to have a nice, civilized talk with them. What do you take me for, hm? A brute?”

Azul had been trying to pry the name of the person who made fun of your appearance off your lips for half an hour now. The thought of being indirectly responsible for someone being either beat up or cursed didn’t thrill you, so you refused to tell him. “What a miserable soul they must be if they can’t see your beauty...” Azul caressed your hair, looking genuinely disappointed. You knew these kinds of low insults got to him the most. “Saying you look lifeless, when you’re the person who brings life to my world. People can be so cruel, can’t they? Don’t listen to what they say, dear. I know best.” Evetually, you caved. You knew he wouldn’t drop the subject. And a few days later, Azul was walking around the corridors with his chin high and a big smile. When you asked what had happened...

“I just made the most wonderful deal!”

𝚅𝚒𝚕 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚝:

Vil used to pad of his index finger to gently apply the golden dust to your eyelid, his face scrunched in concentration. When he was done, he leaned back to take a good look at the finished product.

“Ah, much better!” He held your chin to have a better look at your painted face. “The light makeup did wonders for you. This shade of blush brought you back from the dead, darling, you look-” He stopped talking when you frowned. Vil couldn’t understand why at first. Were you not satisfied with his makeover? And then, he considered the possibility of you not wanting a makeover at all. That maybe he shouldn’t have said the makeup ‘brought you back from the dead’. Vil cupped your face between his hands, guilt tugging at his heartstrings. “Look at me, dearest. I...I didn’t mean it that way. You know I find you absolutely breathtaking, with or without makeup. In fact...it’s not your appearance I’m most concerned about.” His thumbs traced the eye bags under your eyes. “You don’t look healthy. Have you been sleeping enough? A-And you haven’t been skipping meals, have you? You should use some creams, too...” The housewarden reached for the wet wipes he had been using to clear off any mistakes. “Change of plans, dear. We’re having a spa day, complete with skin care and scented baths.”

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inkdrinkerworld · 2 days ago

Text

Fake I.D

synopsis: cowboy!james is infatuated with you and your flirting, so you take him line dancing to get him to make a love

cw: suggestive content, 18+ only, grinding, flirting, use of the word pervert, James and reader are kind of idiots in love

Your hot pink and white boots will be the death of James and he knows you know that.

He can count on one hand how many times he’s seen you out of them and the total number of times is one- every other time, it’s been those godforsaken hot pink and white boots with a thick heel that makes your legs look like something out of his teenage wet dreams.

You’re not new in town, you and James have known each other since primary school but it was in secondary school that you really plagued his every waking thought. You were pretty, and kind, but also confident and didn’t take shit from anyone. James found it wildly attractive.

You and James hadn’t been close friends, but you’d always been friendly. His friend Sirius had introduced you both at a party, and you’d been friendly since that.

The turning point in you and James’ friendship had come not too long after you’d started working at a salon.

James’ parents own the biggest horse farm in town, and you’d rescued a tiny colt that had been trapped up in some bushes while you were on a hike, and drove it to James’ family ranch in the back of your pickup with tears in your eyes because of the cuts on its legs.

James had never seen you, loud, confident you, in tears like that and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest as you hiccuped through your words to tell him about the colt. He and his dad had taken it out of your tray and everyday the colt was on the ranch, you went over to check on him.

Eventually, James was able to nurse the poor thing to perfect health and then asked you if you wanted to name it after his dad told him they’d keep it.

James wasn’t shy himself, but sometimes when you looked right into his eyes, lashes framing your eyes, it made his heart stutter.

“You really think I should?” You had asked, eyes wide with excitement but also a bit of apprehension.

“Yeah, ‘course. It’d only be right.” and as you had stroked the near blood coloured mane, the face of the horse in your other hand, the name came to you easily.

“Copper.”

You and that horse and James had been inseparable after that and James nearly lost his breath every time you went to the ranch after that- cutoff shorts, hot pink and white boots and shirts James swore made him feel like a pervert.

Now, you’re at James’ ranch, a brush in Copper’s mane as you look at James tending to his own filly- Moondancer.

“Please Jamie? It’s fun and you never stay for the dancing.”

He knows he’s fighting a losing battle. You’re doing those puppy dog eyes and you’ve got red eyeliner on to match your shirt and James feels a little overwhelmed with his attraction to you.

“I’ll be your partner all night, Jamie. Won’t leave you to be eaten up by the ladies- save that luxury just for me.”

You giggle when he sputters and his cheeks flush. “Alright, angel. What time do I meet you at the Boneyard?”

You gasp, all faux aghast. “You won’t pick me up at my house? Where’s your southern hospitality?”

James rolls his eyes, “I can do that too. Say seven or eight?”

You pop your hip as Copper nuzzles into your hand. “Will you be all done by then? I don’t want you to cut into your chores and stuff Jamie?”

You’re so earnest, and the flirting has been put to a pause making James turn to goo.

“I’ll be all done, angel. Don’t worry.”

At five thirty, you’re all finished with your makeup, nothing too extreme, just a smokey eye with glitter on your lids and the heavy black eyeliner you noticed James likes.

Your hair is out and ripples down your back in loose curls, your most recent haircut making them look even better than usual.

You’re not trying to impress him, but you have a plan for how tonight is going to end and you want James to finally take all your flirting as seriously as you mean it.

So you dress up and pull out all the stops that you know he likes- the hot pink boots a must, your low rise jeans, and your skirt that says, ‘save a horse.’

When James knocks, you squeal, boots clacking as you race to the door.

“Hey Jamie,” you sing-song as you pull the door open, James taking in a deep breath as his eyes rake over you.

“You look stunning.” There’s a little husk to his voice that you love.

As he gives you a once over, you do the same. He’s dressed in his most relaxed pair of jeans, a blue wash that makes his already thick thighs look ever thicker, a black t-shirt that clings to his arms and nearly makes you drool and his hat. God you love and hate his hat- you love it because he looks stunning in it; but you hate it because it hides away his pretty curls. God you love those curls.

“So do you, Jamie.I like your shirt, it makes your arms look nice.”

He smirks, a little emboldened. “Oh yeah?”

You nod, stepping out of your door, “Ready to go?”

James nods and holds his arm out to you, smiling to himself when your hand wraps around his bicep and not his forearm.

The Boneyard is packed as it usually is, most of the patrons are already more than a little drunk, but you spot some of the girls at your salon, some of James’ friends and some tourists who’re no doubt in tonight for the line dancing.

“A cherry vodka angel?” James asks, wanting a drink to dispel some of his nerves.

“Yes please, James. I’ll go see what songs they have for tonight.”

James nods, watching you walk off first before going over to the bar. Sirius is working tonight, a smirk on his face as he spots James and then spots where he’s looking.

“Finally doing something about all her flirting, Potter?” he asks and James flushes a little as Sirius passes him a beer and then makes your drink without James saying a word.

It takes him a little by surprise that Sirius knows it, but then it dawns on James that he talks about you a lot to his best friend. A lot.

“Trying, but she makes me so fucking nervous, Pads.”

Sirius laughs, patting James on the arm.

“Doesn’t sound so bad, Jamie. You’d be a fool not to be nervous about that girl. She’s trouble all over in the best way.”

James is very inclined to agree.

“Hey Siri, you being nice to James?” You take your drink gratefully and take a sip.

“I was about to ask you the same thing, trouble.” You shrug with a pretty devious smile on your face- James’ heart rate picks up. “Saw you looking at the setlist, you and Potter planning on dancing?”

You nod, smiling when you look up and find James looking at you with fondness written boldly on his face. He’s easy to read, never one to guard his feelings, James.

“Yeah, they’re finally doing Fake I.D again so I figured I’d take James’ virginity in that regard.”

James, bless him, doesn’t sputter, which he’s eternally grateful for. Sirius shares a wicked grin just like yours.

“Don’t make it too vulgar, Remus’ll run you off the dance floor.”

You put your hands up, “I make no promises.”

James is saved from any more teasing from either of you when the song starts playing.

“C’mon Jamie, it’s starting.” He lets you pull him after he downs the last of his drink.

“What if I mess it up?” He whispers as you tug him along. Your hair whips at his chest as you turn to look back at him and he can smell your vanilla shampoo and shuts his eyes for a brief moment.

“You won’t, just follow my lead. You’ll be perfect.”

It takes him a couple steps to get into the song, but seeing you smiling and giggling makes James fall deeper into the music.

The floor rumbles with everyone’s steps, but all you can think about is James behind you as you dance in a circle.

“James!” you squeal when you feel his hands hold onto your hips, James smiling wide as you lean into him a little.

As the guitar solo riff continues you know you have to stay close to James for this part. It isn’t hard because it seems like you’ve both magnetized to each other more than before. As the beat drops, you feel like time has slowed, the words filter into your ears all muffled and soft as you pull James close by his shirt, your chests pressed together. “Hey mister, won’t you sell me a fake i.d.”

You see his breath hitch more than you feel it. You’re both grinding on each other on the dance floor, and it’s way more erotic than anything else either of you could’ve been doing.

“Fuck,” you feel the whisper as James’ hand cements itself to your hip and one of yours buries in his hair.

You tip his hat onto your own head and you swear James’ chest rumbles. “Angel.”

You’re breathless as you and James dance, you feel like you’re the only people on the dance floor.

He dips you backward and you bite back a moan when one of his hands travels up your back to keep his hat on your head. As he picks you up, his fingers knot in your hair and your lips just barely meet.

“James.” You breathe his name and he groans.

“You really are trouble.” his lips meet yours, tentatively at first, and then his mouth consumes yours the moment you kiss him back.

You pull apart and smile, “Took you long enough, James.”

He shakes his head, his dimple poking out as he chases your lips. “You look so good in my hat.”

His stare turns you a little shy and you duck to hide your face in his chest; James laughs at the action.

“Come outta there, sweetheart. Can’t hide those eyes from me now.”

You groan, but look up at him. “Have you always been this smooth?”

James nods, tipping your chin up just a bit higher to kiss your lips again. “Just for you,” you beam at that. “My heart’s thumping.”

“Mine too,” You kiss his jaw, teeth scraping a second path. “Wanna get out of here?”

James slips his hand in your back pocket eliciting a keen he wants to hear more of. “Get your cute butt in my truck, angel.”

You giggle as James squeezes before releasing you, holding your hand with his hat sitting proudly on your head as you stomp your feet out of the bar to his truck. He really does love those hot pink boots.

#cowboy!james #jamespotter #james potter #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter fic #james potter x black reader #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter x y/n

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xazse · 4 hours ago

Note

Female!Reader × HybridPuppy!Yuji

The reader produces breast milk , which she expresses and donates to a shelter for small hybrids. HybridPuppy!Yuji often hugs her and presses himself against her chest to inhale the smell of milk, which makes his mouth water and his cock hard. In the end, he can't resist and begs his mistress to let him suck her milk. Or he sneaks into her bedroom at night and drinks her milk while she sleeps.

Instead of Yuji, you can have Satoru if you want to change the character

Notes: I love this so fucking much, I made a few changes I hope you don’t mind and I’m using Satoru btw because I don’t write for minors.

Pairings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x LactatingFem!Reader

Warnings: I’m sorry but I’m warning ya now this is some nasty shit but a good nasty if ur into this! + Smut + Lactation + hybrids + reader has big boobs + possessive!Satoru + perv!Satoru + porn with plot + notproofread + bathroom sex + I think I spent too much time on plot and not enough porn sorry!

You love visiting the shelter near your house, it’s just a ten minute walk of you enjoying the scenery and speaking to the townspeople, they always greet you with the warmest smiles because they know you, they’ve known you for years.

In fact everyone here knows you: a widowed mother and wife, a mother whose children have been moved on to pursue their own hopes and dreams so in your little warm house it’s just you. You’ve noticed for a while a void in your heart, the loneliness does get to you some days but not today.

Recently a facility had been built, a hybrid facility, at first you hadn’t ever thought those existed because under new law hybrids are allowed to coexist around regular humans, they are to be treated as such it was a long time coming, it hurt your heart to see them being treated as outcasts.

You learned that this facility was for the young, abandoned and on occasion they’d take in adults who still couldn’t find their place.

And in that place you finally found your calling. for some odd reason you and your doctor couldn’t place you were still weirdly lactating, it was exhausting having sore breasts and an endless supply of milk you’d have to pour down the drain: too embarrassed to donate it in fear of being found out in the small town of people.

You awake up with full boobs that needed to be emptied or you’d spend the entire day in pain, pumping the milk was the only way, you’d only have to do it once a day but the sheer amount could keep a baby feed for the entire day.

You’d been talking to one of the workers of the facility and they’d been explaining how the young ones weren’t exactly taking well to the supplied formula milk, “they’d cry constantly” he exclaimed and it broke your heart into pieces the thought of them not eating hurts you, for the very first time you confided in the worker and he didn’t look disgusted not one bit in fact he seemed overjoyed.

“Disgusted? Why would I feel that way? This means the little ones will eat and not throw fits.” When he finishes that sentence a long drawn out sigh leaves his lips. You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips.

Suguru you learn comes by your house to pick up the supplements and does he have some comments, he had waited a week to see how much you would produce.

“All this?!” You stand in your doorway shyly nodding in his presence, he’s actually appalled you weren’t lying when you said you have a good bit, he shakes the box in his hands and listens carefully, it’s hard for you to watch him do that right in front of you and not get a little flustered.

He thanks you graciously and makes his way back to the facility, you really hope they like it, it was one hell of a week for you. Though the feeling you did something good swarms you with warmth.

After that it was found that they absolutely loved your milk, and you had plenty to give, it was so cute the way Suguru described their reactions and how priceless it was. One little one had whined for more: Yuji was a special character he required a bit more milk since he was malnourished, Suguru couldn’t stop describing how he would not let go of the bottle, his grip was not going to let up easily, he looked so genuinely happy describing his work and how much he enjoys this field.

You break out of your thoughts and make your way to the facility, it’s downright gorgeous garden greeting you before the glass doors, smelling so good greets you just as warmly, you open the door and offer your greetings to the staff, Suguru had told you on the phone that the little ones had been particularly needy and needed some attention, attention they couldn’t provide right at the moment so they called you: they always do.

They’re way more comfortable with you, always asking when you’re coming back and on occasion they’ll beg you to stay a little longer with them, cute little faces decorated in tears to trick you.

Right now you’re relaxing on the mat in the playroom whilst they all run around chasing after one another, Nobara: a little lion hybrid is trying her hardest to doze off on your lap, she can’t with all the loud children playing like it’s their last day ever. You slowly and softly rub her short locs to lull her, it’s working until Yuji: a tiger hybrid ever the energetic thing is crawling to come bother her.

With Megumi: a wolf hybrid, and basically his other half following right behind him quietly.

Nobara seems unphased by the tiger trying to bother her, simply shooing him away so she can get her beauty sleep, that sentence makes you giggle, you continue to watch the threes antics without saying a word, a show with no production is how they act together.

Yuji sees your hands rubbing Nobaras ears and he’s immediately making his way towards your soft fingers, basically forcing you to rub his orange striped ears, this doesn’t make Nobara happy and she tries to shove him away; whining for your attention again.

You know how they get if you aren’t showing them equal parts attention so now both of your hands are preoccupied, Megumi doesn’t seem to mind, simply sitting and watching on.

You hear his voice before you even see him, he’s definitely running through the halls disrupting the staff, he’s yelling your name so loud that you know its Satoru and how eager he is, you know how eager puppy hybrids can be.

When he pops his head into the playroom the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen, he quickly makes his way over to you ignoring the little growls the babies give him, he’s pushing them aside against your protest and laying in your lap. The grip he has around your waist allows for him to fully envelope himself in your breasts.

“Missed you’s much” he playfully whines.

“You seen me yesterday Toru.”

Satoru lets out a satisfied sigh in the warmth of your boobs, he’s become obsessed with you, and it’s bad he’s had to he reprimanded by Suguru and the other staff multiple times for his possessiveness it’s not his fault though! He can’t control how he feels about you not after that day.

It was when he was feeding Megumi, sometimes as a way to bond Suguru will have Satoru bottle feed them, though he absolutely dreads it, he has to put up with it, all the other adult hybrids are far too hard headed.

He was curious one day, about how the milk had tasted, he found out through Suguru that the formula had been changed to breast milk, it was a slip of the tongue but he himself had also noticed how they whined for more.

He unscrewed the top to the bottle, the little calm Megumi was already drifting off so he wasn’t a problem.

He took a sip, and quickly pulled away: fully expecting it to be the worst thing he’s ever tried: it’s baby food not food meant for him but that feeling on his tongue never came in fact it was actually quite good.

Another sip and another after that; he scarfed the remains of the bottle down with a flushed face, it tassted like- well he couldn’t describe it but he knew he fucking loved it. He found himself sneaking into where it was kept and taking some for himself, it was almost an everyday thing, he knew when Suguru was questioning and bothering him he had to stop but he couldn’t, until he met the source of where the milk was coming from.

He snuggles his face deeper, ignoring and zoning out the loud noises around him, he can smell the milk on your breasts, you recently pumped? Probably this morning to be exact as and all he can think about is how you sat there for hours getting rid of the awful feeling in your sore breasts.

You feel something hard against your leg, you know how Satoru feels about you but this is too much. You’ve already had to tell him in the past that he’s much too young for you and would be better off finding someone who can fit his needs, he insists that he only wants you and doesn’t care about the age difference.

You have yet to bring up these feelings to Suguru though, you can’t bring yourself to say because what if Satoru won’t trust you anymore, it was hard building trust with the man due to his past experiences.

He’s only getting more excited by the minute, his tail moving in slow languid motions.

The way he’s looking up at you is filled with nothing but love and lust, you know that look too well.

You aren’t sure why you’re in a bathroom stall with Toru whilst he feels you up, caressing your boobs, every attempt to tell him to stop dies on your tongue when he rubs a sore area, your breath hitching in your throat when he grinds his hard cock on you.

Such a needy puppy he is, whining under his breath words that you can’t quite decipher especially with how heated you’re getting, your mind getting foggier by the minute as you let Satoru get his fill of you.

He rips apart your blouse and carelessly throws it on the floor, along with your bra next. Your nipples are exposed to the cold air of the facility and Satoru is reveling in it. He paws at your heavy boobs with rough calloused hands that are uncoordinated, squeezing the fat in his hand until he sees what he wants.

The droplets of your milk finally coming to fruition, he licks one nipple and you think you can see him visibly shake with excitement, he filts that nipple in his mouth and suckles, after a good minute he ceases his constant unconscious movements and readily focuses on the sweet milk cascading down his throat.

A moan breaks free from your trembling lips, this feels nothing like the machine you have at home, this feels so fucking good it alone has your cunt throbbing in your panties, the swirling of his tongue and just how content he looks is driving you mad.

You slip into that space that you know is bad for you, your voice is for some reason egging Satoru on, calling him all sorts of names that entice him to suck harder. Your hands don’t listen to you either because you’re rubbing the front of his pants in soft motions.

His whimpers don’t go unnoticed, nor does his swishing tail, such a good boy you tell him, losing all sense of rational he drags you with him to sit on the toilet, you don’t expect the amount of strength he has for being so lanky but he manages it.

He goes right back to sucking on your fat breasts that still replenish his appetite.

You let Satoru strip you of your bottoms and your panties, you let him slip his cock inside of you when you know you shouldn’t, he isn’t big but he fucks constant, always hitting that good spot inside of you based off your reactions.

He looks disheveled and messy, his face red and his mouth dripping with drool and remnants of your milk.

You let him bend you any which way he sees fit in that stall, an overexcited hybrid means it’s going to take a while to exhaust them, though you feel tired after having an orgasm you’ve never experienced he isn’t done, he’s cum multiple times, filled your cunt with his leaky cum he still isn’t done yet.

When he’s got you in his lap leaning on him for support he’s nonstop talking about what you and him will do from here, he talks about how he wants a family of his own and how you’ll be such a perfect mommy to his little ones.

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frogeyedape · 3 days ago

Text

Important thing to notice here: hitting a child AFTER they've run into the road is not a preventative measure. It is REACTIVE.

Let's look at the scenario again, shall we? Unattended child [she says her child will never be unattended but may run unattended into the road. Ignore the straw man and make the good faith assumption that "running into the road unattended" here means "child with attendant parent moves away from parent into the road"] runs into the road: parent is by definition not in reach to prevent this. Child is pursuing some goal [chase toy, go toward friend, whatever] and only thinking about that, child is caught [while in the road, but did they notice that detail?] and hit and probably scolded. Child's pursuit of goal is interrupted by pain caused by distressed parent; child in pain picks up on parental distress but not WHY they're distressed. Child likely does not associate "be in road" with "pain," and almost definitely doesn't associate the ACTUAL danger moment [being NEXT to a road and going INTO the road] with the pain. Therefore the reactive punishment does nothing to prevent future instances of "being in the road," or of "GOING into the road."

A brief diversion: both operant and classical conditioning require repetition, and stimulus/behavior must be *very closely paired in time* in order to work. A natural consequence is much more likely to be paired with its stimulus (touch hot stove, get burned). Hitting your preverbal doesn't understand you child teaches them that the natural consequence of being NEAR YOU is pain.

Now, let's talk about child developmental psychology and a perhaps surprising fact that makes all this operant/classical conditioning argument moot: children understand what you say long before they have the skill to say what you say. Preverbal children are in fact NOT completely noncomprehending *of language,* of social skills. You can talk to your baby before they can even crawl adeptly and they won't understand yet, but your speech builds neural pathways. You can talk to your adept crawling pre-toddling baby and model How To Cross A Road Safely before they have ANY chance or ability to run into a road. You can make clear, every time you come to a road, "What do we do? We STOP, and look both ways, and if it's clear [and I'm with you] then we cross." [and I'm with you] is up to your discretion. You carry your baby across roads many many many times in your child's life before they can walk. Repetition is key, remember?

You can model How To Play Near A Road Safely every day [hold/constrain a non-walking child, have a walking preverbal child hold your hand, keep modeling STOP at every road, and tall about it!]. Kids are frightening smart, very very good little statisticians--if every time you and your child come to a road you STOP [and also look etc if the plan is to cross], the months and YEARS of repetition will make the statistic clear to your child: when approach road, STOP. When going from grass/dirt/sidewalk to road surface: STOP first.

Model the age-appropriate behavior. Speak to your kid like they understand, cuz either A) they don't yet, but they WILL, and what you say now affects what they learn or B) they DO understand part/some/all of what you say and can listen and *choose what to do*. Treat your child like an agent, capable of agentive decisions, capable of CHOICE, show them how to make safe choices, talk about it!

The single most overwhelming thing I remember from young childhood is adults/older kids assuming I didn't want or couldn't possibly utilize any kind of agency/choice in my circumstances, the sheer FRUSTRATION of being disregarded as a living thinking *choosing* creature. Giving your child agency, assuming they HAVE agency, is vital to helping them learn *how to use their agency.*

When people get pregnant, they will give up smoking, give up alcohol, give up coffee and soda, give up fondue and raw cheese, give up cold cuts and sushi, all because they have heard somewhere, from someone, that these things can be bad for the baby. They don’t know the research, haven’t looked at the studies, can’t talk about sample sizes and control groups. But their dedication to their future child’s safety is so strong, their caution is so overpowering, that they give up these things just in case.

So it baffles me when those same people will insist on spanking their kids.

Even when they are shown the research.

Regardless of what the experts in the field say.

No matter who says it.

Or how it is said.

People are so invested in this ability to hit their kids without judgement or consequence, that it absolutely confounds me.

#babies learning language are statistical learners #they start off capable of hearing any phoneme of any human language and learn by statistical frequency of occurrence which sounds are #meaningful in the language/s they are exposed to. and eventually they stop distinguishing the difference between sounds that are part of #that language's phonetic range. B/V sounds still get distinguished in both English & Spanish but the *ranges* differ between languages #English B is a lot more distinct from English V than Spanish B from Spanish V and Spanish B/V both overlap more with English B than with V #such that vaca (cow in Spanish) sounds a lot like baca to English ears #people can still learn to distinguish those sounds again later in life but it's a challenge!#and babies just seem to soak it all up like their brains are ready made language acquisition calculators

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cupcakedieabetes · 17 hours ago

Text

Dumpster Baby Part 2

Jazz wasn't worried at all that Danny was missing. But she's annoyed that he hasn't contacted her for nearly 2 months of disappearing.

Danny had gone scouting Gotham and hadn't come back. Something had distracted him enough. Well, with or without him, she was going there anyway. Within two months of waiting for Danny, she had finished packing and was now ready to leave.

Her parents also weren't worried about Danny, knowing about his status as a half. They were just disappointed he didn't bother contacting them for whatever reasons he had. They were planning to join Jazz to settle her in Gotham and investigate where Danny had gone and what he had been doing in Gotham.

Tucker and Sam, who also got no messages, were gearing up to prepare to go to Gotham. Unlike Danny, they were completely normal human beings, so they did have to arm themselves when they went there.

When they got to Gotham, they immediately tracked for Danny, only to end up in front of a large warehouse.

"Did he get carried away building a lair for himself?" Tucker joked.

"And not texting us for 2 months about it? There's no way he can keep a secret about it." Sam hissed at him.

So they opened the door to the warehouse, to find an eyeball staring straight at them.

Jazz, Sam and Tucker screamed while Maddie and Jack aimed their gun rays at it, only for them to realise that it was Danny.

"Dann-o! We came to visit!" Jack put away his gun to greet his son.

"You should have contacted us! It's been 2 months already!" Maddie scolded him.

The eyeball stared at them, looking at them as apologetically as he can as an eyeball before gesturing to follow him inside.

As they went inside, they noticed that there were several Ghosts inside, looking like they had a task to do. They wondered what until they went into a room the eyeball directed them to go to.

Inside was a large creature lounging on the floor, resting as children were playing all over his form. There were babies in an arm, many arms. Oh, and eyeballs were floating everywhere.

"Uhhh, Danny?" Jazz started. "Where did you find these kids?" She calmly stated, ignoring her parents who got excited that they became grandparents in an instant. They all knew Danny, and they all knew that he had taken all these children in as his.

Jazz felt a tug and looked down to see a thin child, a child who should have been pudgy with how young he looked. He looked up with huge eyes, a fist in his mouth as he clutched a teddy bear possessively. He took out the fist from his mouth to reach up to Jazz, opening and closing his fist at her.

"Uppies?"

Jazz picked him up and rested him on her hips, melting when the baby rested his head on her shoulder, his fluffy hair tickling her cheeks.

Okay, she gets why Danny took them in.

"We could have helped, you know." Jazz weakly said, bouncing the baby softly. Danny snorted, making Jazz sigh. She would save the lecture once the children weren’t in the same room.

"Honey! We have grandchildren!" Jack cooed, shrinking from his big size and went on his knees to not scare any children. The children looked like they only recently just had good meals, warmth, and shelter. It wouldn’t do good for him to aggravate them further.

Sam and Tucker decided to sit down on an available spot. Some children, once they noticed that Danny didn’t have any reaction to them, deeming them safe, dragged the both of them to play with them.

Maddie went over to check out Danny to see if his newly changed form had any bad effect on him and just to generally check on him. She melted when Danny deposited one of the babies he was carrying, the arms disappearing when settled in her arms.

She patted her son as she watched her the children and her husband having the time of their lives playing with each other. With Jack's big form, there were children using him as a jungle gym. Jazz was cuddling with the boy. Tucker and Sam were playing heroes with the children as the bad guys, letting the children beat them up when the villains failed their plans.

"I'm proud of you, Danny. You've taken in the children that needed help and created a family of your own." Maddie smiled at him, eyes watering at the utterly domestic side

Danny's eyes all teared up, she noticed, and his head went to nuzzle her.

Well, it's time for everyone to move to Gotham, she supposes.

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kurishiri · 2 days ago

Text

Mystery Bag 2025 ┊ Team 3: The adult nobles

William (bi-stander), Elbert (“Al pick me up I’m scared” Victorian child), Victor (bisexual mess #1), Darius (bisexual mess #2)

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the mystery bag 2025 sale is a story set sale where the guys are put into teams and participate in a relay event thing. this is one of three teams! you can read the prologue, translated by @.judesmoonbeauty, here.

— cw: maybe a near-death experience.

—— Sky ——

——Group 3’s round: William, Elbert, Victor, Darius.

—— City ——

Victor: Seeing this lineup, I take it we’re ‘Team Nobles’!

William: I find it intriguing how it has a pleasant and genuine ring when you are the one saying it.

Darius: I see you are magnanimous, fun, and wonderful today as well, William.

William: Thank you for your kind words. I think you’re quite wonderful yourself too, Darius.

Elbert: …What are you two to each other?

Darius: I’m just very, veeery interested in William here, that’s all.

City girls: Lord Victor, you’re wonderful today as well~~!

Victor: Oh dear, thank you for your vocal support.

City girls: Lord Elbert~! Please blow a kiss~~!

Elbert: ...Blow...a kiss? (O_O)

William: There seems to be more spectators than usual.

Victor: Since it’s the first time we’re holding this selection for the Happy Boy. It’s natural then for there to be many spectating eyes.

V: Besides, did you know? We four are the strongest contenders, I’d say.

V: First up, William!

V: Those sheer prowess in your legs, and your peerless beauty! And by far, I know very well in these great many years I have stood by your side, just how swift of a runner you are.

Darius: How about you stop putting William up on a pedestal? (*^‿^*)

Victor: And next up, Elbert. There’s not a soul that’s seen you running before, but I hold high expectations for you!

Darius: What a wishy-washy basis.

Victor: And then the leader of Vogel, Darius. Same as above.

Darius: ...What?

Victor: And finally, there’s me!

V: With long, flowing jet-black locks, and these elegant and beauteous eyes. And not to mention——

Darius: William, let’s pay no mind to all his nonsense and prepare ourselves. If you were to get hurt anywhere, that would for sure be a problem.

Victor: Now stooop right there. Darius, I’ve been thinking this for a while now, but...

V: Have you by any chance fallen in love with me!?

Darius: And why do you say that?

Victor: Why, because there are times when you just can’t help but tease the one you like, you know. I see, I see it now~~ I hadn’t realized at all!

Darius: This is exactly what I despise about you.

Victor: What the— despise!? (O_O)

William: Haha, I see you two are getting along quite well.

Elbert: ...They are?

Steering committee: To everyone in group 3, there is something we must inform you about.

Steering committee: We do apologize, but due to mechanical difficulties, there is a one hour delay.

Victor: Oh my, one hour, you say? That’s quite a hefty amount of time.

Young man in steering committee: Lord Victor, the Queen’s Aide, Lord Rex and Lord Elbert. And the personage over there...

Victor: That would be Lord Darius Vogel, the leader of Vogel.

Young man in steering committee: Oh— then it’s all the more reason we can’t afford to keep you waiting in such a place.

Young man in steering committee: Please wait over here until the start time. Well then, if you’ll follow me.

—— Café ——

William: A table just for us, and warm tea as well. Very considerate of them.

W: ...However, Elbert. I would refrain from putting your hands on your cup of tea.

W: That is, if you do not wish to collapse, just as Snow White had when she ate the poisoned apple, and get cozy with the bed.

Elbert: ...Ahh, so it was like that.

Victor: It was like what? (O_O)

Elbert: You two gave off an air of bloodlust. For a moment’s time.

Darius: Ohh, so I see.

D: Basically, there is a target that concealed himself in the shadows of this lively event... is that right?

D: But why did they choose to sneak in a dose of poison for Elbert then?

Victor: Our target this time is a criminal who has spoken out against the authority of Her Majesty the Queen.

V: And so, what if a corpse turned up during this event?

Elbert: It is highly possible Her Majesty, who has planned this event, will be faced with criticism.

Victor: And what’s important is who becomes the corpse then. It has to be someone whose corpse would cause a ruckus.

V: In other words, the perfect fit for such a role would be the one who snags the victory, and bonus points if they are of a high standing.

William: That said, Victor, while a perfect candidate to cause a ruckus among the people, would be too unabashed of a choice, as he is the Queen’s Aide.

W: And as I am written in a very positive light in newspapers, interestingly enough, there is a risk of facing retaliation.

W: As for Darius... targeting him would be an international problem in and of itself, so he is out of the question.

W: That would then leave Elbert. That would be why the possibility of your tea being poisoned is nothing to laugh at.

W: ——Or have we erred in our guess in any way, young man?

Young man in standing committee: Wha...

Young man in standing committee: I didn’t...

William: Your hands are trembling, and your lips resemble the sea in how blue they are.

Victor: And besides, we’ve already collected all the evidence, Christopher Olcott.

Young man in standing committee: ...How do you know my name...

Victor: You are a part of a revolution group that preaches against Her Majesty the Queen, and you were given the mission of assassinating Elbert here with poison.

V: I am also very much in the know of your personal history and family... care to lend an ear?

Young man in standing committee: ...gh.

Young man in steering committee: E-even if that’s the case! There’s something that doesn’t add up in what you’re saying!

William: Doesn’t add up, you say?

Young man in steering committee: If I really wanted to point criticizing eyes at Her Majesty the Queen, I wouldn’t kill any participant in the preliminary round.

Young man in steering committee: I would wait for the finals. I would kill on the most anticipated day.

Young man in steering committee: That would cause even more of a ruckus, wouldn’t it.

William: Yes, exactly. I did figure as much.

W: However——you could not.

W: After all, the birthday of your boss’ beloved daughter, whom he very much dotes on, falls on the same day as the finals, right?

W: And that was why you were ordered to carry it out by today, with no exceptions. Or am I wrong?

Young man in steering committee: ...!

Darius: Looks like that’s the end game for you.

Victor: You’re still young, so if it’s now, you can still turn over a new leaf. That is, if you are able to choose that path for yourself.

William: Indeed. All this happened before the tea could even cool, after all.

—— City ——

Darius: Based on today’s events, the group will be condemned at a later date for their repeated misdeeds...

D: What a magnificent way to plant fear of condemnation, William. I’d expect nothing less.

D: Oh, especially that ‘all this happened before the tea could even cool’ line.

D: Could you say that one more time, pretty please?

Victor: ‘ALL THIS HAPPENED BEFORE THE TEA COULD EVEN COOL’~~! (⌒▽⌒)☆

Darius: Not you. (눈_눈)

Elbert: ..There was something that made me curious.

Victor: Ask away, Elbert.

Elbert: Darius.

E: Since when were you aware William and Victor were going to carry out the condemnation?

Darius: ‘When’?

Elbert: When they revealed the target this time, you did not seem very surprised to me.

Darius: Hehe, look at you, so the Earl Greetia does have his wits about him after all. Color me surprised.

D: That said, it would be a stretch for me to know who the target was, you know? I just had a feeling there was something going on, I guess.

D: Victor, this is what you said.

—— Flashback ——

Victor: Besides, did you know? We four are the strongest contenders, I’d say.

—— End flashback ——

Darius: All the members of Crown and Vogel are participating.

D: And yet, there you were, touting about how we were the strongest contenders. That gave me a feeling.

D: You guys were tampering with information from the start. All to oust that young man.

Victor: ......... (･ᴗ･)

Darius: Indeed, I really do despise you. And how sharply cunning you are.

Victor: I take it that when you say ‘despise,’ it is a form of your love, but...

V: If you really do insist that you despise me, then all you need to do is win against me in the match that’s about to start in a few minutes.

V: That is, if you can win.

William: Look at you, Victor. I’ll have you know that I would hate to lose as well?

Elbert: ...I also have no intention of losing.

E: Kate is cheering, after all.

Steering committee: Thank you for waiting. Group 3, we will begin the round.

William: Now then, how about we enjoy this match to the absolute fullest?

Fin.

team 1 team 2 team 3

ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

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sylvia-und-sybille · 1 day ago

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💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it’ll have when it’s done? 2.3K+ now, and whatever happens, that happens.

⌛️ [Hourglass] How long have you been working on this WIP? 3 days.

📚 [Books] Is this WIP part of a series or standalone? AU location (starts as) and aged-up characters.

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV? OTP only. Even as 3rd person's point of view there's little of point of view at all (as thoughts or just about a person alone.)

💖 [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP? OTP talk & do things together.

🎶 [Notes] Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar? It can happen in 0.001% of cases (if, then fanfictions only.)

📖 [Open Book] What form do you want this WIP to take when it’s done? Posted, printed, published, etc? Posted only.

🐀 [Rat] Name three reasons why this WIP is great at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.) Romance, as it's about a lot of love (as in every fanfiction about them.)

🐁[Mouse] Name three reasons why this WIP is horrible at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.) Humour. Unfortunately, no funny moments.

🔎 [Magnifier] Is there a phrase/word you know you use too often? Will you change it in editing? So (for years.) If exaggerate, the answer is, so what? So to be it. | Whenever possible, I try to find other way to glue parts of looong sentences and not to break them into shorter ones. The writer of the original version had looong sentences as well and paragraphs can seem almost endless in many cases.

🍖 [Meat] How many fictional people were harmed in the making of this WIP? EVERY SINGLE of my fanfictions & original stories has happy end (unless past when I wanted to write about harm done to or defeat of a bad or unpleasant character.) In the case of latest WIP fanfiction: deep sadness of both, character 2: wish to cry before relief, no harm.

🌈 [Rainbow] If at the beginning of your WIP the characters knew about the end, would they kill you to stop you from writing it? They would look forward to a plot twist (mostly character 2, as character 1 had an idea.)

‍🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be? Rainbow, as they deserve.

🍩 [Donut] What’s the weirdest thing someone eats in your WIP? What’s the best thing? No food or drinks are mentioned (yet?)

🔒 [Lock] Would you let your family, friends, or other people you know in real life read your WIP? No, and I almost don't know people in real life. Yes, I'm so called "live under a rock."

🖋️ [Pen] Describe your WIP in a single, terrible sentence. At first, the two are icebergs, but very, very soon, nothing is under water . . . (They talk about character 1 as having an iceberg, so . . .) . . . positive plot twist, philosophical discussion, something else unexpected (positive again.) (Note: something else is before plot twist, though. | I've had to search for answers to at least understand how such description can be possible.)

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for? What does it mean even? If as not accepted, one of important parts is gender non-conformity. Those who are against girls & women who don't look feminine can be highly displeased. BUT what can I say, the version the fanfiction is based on has scenes with character 2 in man's shirt. So yes, haters can hate as long as they want.

UPDATE a day after: I've had an idea (chapter 2, not one-shot as it was planned initially) which is the reason to "get cancelled on Twitter," but I don't care. The idea supposed to be a part of some future fanfiction (no matter which, but based on the modern version of the story,) but the wish to add this to the current one was too strong, so it will be here :D The first chapter discussed above has two plot twists, but this idea is an enormous plot twist. Second plot twist & new one will result in (in my opinion, at least) it's too good to be true | unrealistic, but I don't care. I want this to exist, so it will.

Random WIP Ask Game

💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it'll have when it's done?

⌛️ [Hourglass] How long have you been working on this WIP?

📚 [Books] Is this WIP part of a series or standalone?

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV?

💖 [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP?

🎶 [Notes] Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar?

📖 [Open Book] What form do you want this WIP to take when it's done? Posted, printed, published, etc?

🐀 [Rat] Name three reasons why this WIP is great at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.)

🐁[Mouse] Name three reasons why this WIP is horrible at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.)

🔎 [Magnifier] Is there a phrase/word you know you use too often? Will you change it in editing?

🍖 [Meat] How many fictional people were harmed in the making of this WIP?

🌈 [Rainbow] If at the beginning of your WIP the characters knew about the end, would they kill you to stop you from writing it?

‍🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be?

🍩 [Donut] What's the weirdest thing someone eats in your WIP? What's the best thing?

🔒 [Lock] Would you let your family, friends, or other people you know in real life read your WIP?

🖋️ [Pen] Describe your WIP in a single, terrible sentence.

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for?

#I'll try to do this for every fanfiction or chapter started (in the future) & related to this blog #fanfictions #WIP #Sylvia und Sybille #SySy #any chance for anything related to THEM in typed form (for me to think and to type) is very welcome #Fiction is harder than non fiction (unless it's detailed literary criticism.)#To express my opinion & to read between lines (most of the time) is yes but How is it written? (quality) then no.#Give me parameters to look for. Yes a humanities person who thinks about literature from scientific point of view.

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