#both absolutely devastated by his absence

[the-cookie-of-doom]

I’m writing angsty conflicted KimPorsche and it’s *so* satisfying

[minhosbitterriver]

𑁍ࠬܓ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( stray kids )

❛ In which the members of Stray Kids navigate the world of fatherhood without you.

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 4.4k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This request was absolutely devastating to write, thank you! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has passed away, each member is a single father still in love with you, mentions of grief, some of the kids fall under the LGBTQ+ community.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

방찬 ── BANG CHAN.

Chan's office was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the desk lamps, casting a warm yet somber light across the room. The gentle hum of the night time silence was broken only by the rhythmic, soothing breaths of his three-year-old daughter, who lay peacefully on the worn leather couch. Her tiny face, so serene in slumber, was a haunting mirror of your beautiful features, stirring a profound ache in Chan's heart.

As he watched her, tears began to silently trace their way down his cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of his sorrow and longing. He could still hear your final, trembling words: "Love her twice as much in my absence." The memory was a dagger, twisting with the relentless guilt and grief that had become his constant companions. The sight of his daughter's innocent face, so reminiscent of you, only deepened his anguish.

Today had been especially trying. Chan had promised his little girl a joyous outing to the park, a precious respite from his hectic work schedule. But the day took an unexpected turn when Changbin called in a panic, frantically searching for the nearly completed recording of their latest song. What Chan had hoped would be a swift resolution morphed into hours of desperate searching, only to end in the devastating realization that they would have to begin the recording anew.

All the while, his daughter’s patience wore thin. She had no toys, no distractions, just the suffocating boredom of waiting. Her disappointment was palpable, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any words could. Chan felt like he was failing her, failing in the promise he had made to you. Driven by the need to make amends, he gently woke his daughter. Her initial crankiness gave way to curiosity as he apologized for breaking his promise and proposed a sleepover at home. Movies, games, a fort, and endless cuddles — her eyes sparkled at the thought, and her frown dissolved into giggles.

At home, they transformed the living room into a magical fortress of pillows and blankets, a sanctuary just for them. They watched animated tales, played games, and reveled in the simple joy of being together. Wrapped in the cozy embrace of their fort, she eventually succumbed to sleep once more, nestled against him. Her hair, a tousled mess, and a small trail of drool on his shirt were endearing reminders of her tender age and boundless trust in him.

Chan held her close, his heart swelling with love and a bittersweet yearning. She was the living embodiment of his heart, and as he gazed at her, he whispered a vow into the stillness of the night. He promised to love her with all his might, carrying the weight of both his love and the part of you that would forever reside in their lives. In that quiet moment, amidst the echoes of his promises, he felt a fragile sense of peace, knowing that as long as he held her, he was keeping your memory alive.

이민호 ── LEE MINHO.

Minho lay in the dim, soft glow of his bedroom, shadows whispering across the walls as the twins slept peacefully beside him. Their tiny forms had claimed your side of the bed, filling the void where your presence once brought warmth and comfort. The night he returned home with the babies, he had attempted to sleep alone, but the emptiness was unbearable. He tossed and turned, haunted by the silence, until one of the babies began to cry, inevitably waking the other. In his desperation to soothe them, he gathered every pillow he could find, crafting a makeshift crib in his bed. Their delicate features softened in the calm of his presence, and they finally drifted off to sleep.

As Minho gazed at their angelic faces, hands entwined even in slumber, his heart ached with the weight of your absence. How could he begin to process this loss? You had spent almost ten months nurturing these little miracles, only to be taken away before you could revel in the beauty of their existence. Ten months of creating life, and you would never witness the serene way they held hands in their sleep. Ten months of dreams and hopes, and you would miss their first birthdays, graduations, weddings. It was unbearably cruel, and Minho’s soul was tormented by the thought.

You wouldn’t even be here to laugh about the pregnancy mix-up that had both of you convinced it would be a boy and a girl, only to welcome two beautiful baby girls into the world. His friends had offered to stay and help, but he had declined, needing the solitude to grapple with his grief. Now, in the stillness of the night, he questioned if he had made the right choice.

Tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks as the full weight of his new reality settled over him. He was to raise these precious little princesses on his own, and the responsibility felt crushing. Yet, as he watched their peaceful slumber, he knew he had to summon every ounce of strength for them. They were his world now, the living, breathing remnants of your love. He vowed to cherish them, to love them fiercely, and to guide them through life with unwavering dedication, for they were all he had left of you, and he was all they had.

In the hushed silence, he whispered promises into the night, pledging to be the best father he could be. He would ensure they knew how deeply you loved them, even if you couldn’t be there to tell them yourself. And as he held them close, feeling the rise and fall of their tiny chests, a fragile peace washed over him. He knew that in every laugh, every tear, and every milestone, you would be there in spirit, guiding him, loving them, always.

서창빈 ── SEO CHANGBIN.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the park as Changbin and his 13-year-old son sat on a weathered wooden bench, savoring their ice cream. The park buzzed with the laughter of children, their joy mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves in the summer breeze. Parents lounged on the grass, basking in the last light of day, while Changbin watched his son’s face light up with a blush as he received a message.

Changbin couldn’t resist teasing him. "Who’s got you smiling like that?" he asked, his voice laced with playful curiosity.

His son’s cheeks reddened further, and he looked away, trying to hide his smile. "Just a girl from school," he mumbled, glancing at his phone. "She texted to congratulate me on today’s soccer game."

Changbin’s interest was piqued. "A girl, huh? Do you like her?" he inquired gently, but his son just rolled his eyes, keeping his thoughts to himself.

After a while, his son broke the comfortable silence with a question that took Changbin by surprise. "Dad, how did you know Mom was the one for you?"

Changbin's heart swelled with a bittersweet mix of love and nostalgia. He took a deep breath, the memory washing over him like a tender wave. "Well," he began softly, "it was before you were born. Your mom and I had only been dating for a few months. One evening, we decided to take a ride on my motorcycle to grab some food. On the way back, she spotted a bookstore and got all excited. She tapped my shoulder and pointed it out, her eyes sparkling like a child's. I couldn't say no to that."

He smiled, lost in the memory. "We stopped, and I handed her my card, telling her to get whatever she wanted. She promised she’d come out empty-handed, but I knew better." He chuckled, remembering your sheepish yet triumphant expression as you emerged with a bag hidden behind your back. "She ended up buying two books and couldn’t stop talking about them, her excitement contagious. When I told her I was glad she found something, she did this little dance of joy before climbing back onto the bike. She had to hold the bag since her backpack was already stuffed with our food, but she was too happy to care."

Changbin’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. "That’s when I knew she was the one. It wasn’t some grand gesture; it was her pure joy in the little things, her passion for life. I wish you could have known her. She loved you so much, even before you were born."

His son’s eyes mirrored his own longing and admiration. "I wish I’d known her too," he said softly. "My goal in life is to find my soulmate, like you found Mom. I want to love someone as much as you loved her."

Changbin’s heart ached with pride and sorrow. "You deserve to have someone by your side for a long time," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, "Who knows, maybe this girl from school is your one."

His son groaned, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he nudged Changbin, causing his ice cream to topple onto the ground. Changbin laughed, a deep, hearty sound that echoed through the park. His own ice cream slipped from his grasp, joining his son’s on the pavement, and they both burst into laughter, the joy of the moment a soothing balm to their hearts.

In that golden hour, surrounded by the simple pleasures of ice cream and shared memories, Changbin felt a profound sense of peace. Despite the heartache and loss, he and his son would continue to find love and joy in the little things, just as you had taught him. And in those moments of laughter and connection, he felt your presence with them, a silent guardian watching over their journey, smiling at their shared happiness.

황현진 ── HWANG HYUNJIN.

Hyunjin sat alone in the dimly lit room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden hue over the familiar surroundings. The air was thick with memories, each piece of furniture and every stroke of paint a testament to the love and labor he had shared with you. His heart ached with a bittersweet nostalgia as he looked around, his mind filled with the echoes of laughter and the whispers of cherished moments.

He remembered the countless hours spent building the furniture, the frustration and triumph mingling as he struggled with stubborn screws, while you sat nearby, reading the instructions with a patience that never failed to calm him. The nursery walls, painted in a tapestry of happy themes, bore the marks of your combined artistic talents, creating a sanctuary for the new life you both awaited with eager anticipation.

The night he returned home with the baby, your absence a gaping void beside him, was etched into his soul. He had sat in the rocking chair, the one he had bought especially for you, cradling the fragile bundle in his arms, paralyzed by the fear of being alone. Many nights, he had dozed off in that chair, too afraid to leave its comforting embrace, haunted by the silence that your departure had left behind.

A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the day he found your child drawing on the walls, their tiny hands busy creating a colorful mural over your delicate paintings. It had pained him to see your work altered, but the sight of their concentrated little face, so much like yours, had softened his heart. He had chosen to let them be creative, to express themselves freely, even if it meant sacrificing a piece of you.

He thought of the time his six-year-old had cried in his arms, their tiny body trembling with confusion and hurt because they didn't fit in with the boys or the girls. Hyunjin had held them close, whispering reassurances, his heart breaking at the familiar pain. It had been a long journey, but he had worked tirelessly to make their home a sanctuary of love and acceptance.

The memories came in a flood, each one a cherished gem: the summer in middle school when they returned home with bags of new clothes and put on a fashion show, proudly displaying their androgynous style; the pride parade, where he meticulously placed sticky rainbow gems on their face, their giddy excitement lighting up the day; and finally, the day they graduated and moved out, leaving behind an empty room filled with the ghosts of the past.

Tears rolled down Hyunjin’s face as he sat in the rocking chair, now old and creaky, thinking of all the moments he had cherished yet wished he could have shared with you. The weight of the memories pressed down on him, a heavy, inescapable burden.

Suddenly, his phone rang, startling him from his reverie. He hastily wiped his tears and saw it was a FaceTime call from his child. He answered, and their beaming face filled the screen, the excitement in their eyes mirrored by the twinkling fairy lights in their new apartment's bedroom.

“Hey, Dad! Look at my new room!” they exclaimed, panning the camera around to show off their new space, their voice bubbling with pride and joy.

Hyunjin’s heart swelled with pride and love. “It looks amazing, sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I miss you,” they confessed, their eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can we spend the first night together, through the phone?”

Hyunjin chuckled softly, trying to mask his lingering sadness. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of moving out?”

They laughed, a sound that was pure and unfiltered joy. “Maybe, but I know you’re in my old room crying already.”

He laughed too, the heaviness lifting just a bit. “You got me there.”

They didn’t hang up, staying connected through the screen as the night deepened. Hyunjin lay back in the rocking chair, his child propped up in their new bed, both finding solace in the familiar presence of each other. As they talked and laughed, Hyunjin realized that though you weren’t physically there, your spirit lived on in these moments, in the love that continued to bind them together. And for now, that was enough.

한지성 ── HAN JISUNG.

Jisung found his seven-year-old child hidden within the treehouse that the three of you had built together. This small wooden sanctuary, once filled with laughter and joy, now bore the heavy weight of sorrow. They were still in their funeral attire, the black clothes contrasting sharply against the soft glow of the setting sun. The murmurs of the guests lingering in the backyard became a distant, indistinct hum as Jisung climbed into the treehouse, his heart burdened with grief and a simmering anger at the universe for taking you away so cruelly.

His son's youthful face was etched with a grief that seemed too profound for such a young soul. Jisung felt a surge of helplessness as he reached out, pulling his child close, wrapping him in an embrace meant to shield him from the cruel world outside. “I miss Mom,” came the soft, heart-wrenching whisper, each word a dagger to Jisung’s already shattered heart.

“I miss Mom too,” Jisung murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. They sat together in silence, the weight of your absence pressing down on them like an insurmountable force.

It had been nearly a year since you had fallen ill, the sickness so severe that the doctors had given you only a few months at most. Yet, you had defied their grim prognosis, your spirit burning brightly despite the frailty of your body. Jisung remembered the countless nights spent by your side, swallowing his fears and anger as you spoke of your impending death with a calm acceptance that had always made him furious. To him, it felt as though you had given up, but he knew deep down that wasn’t the case. You hadn’t wanted to waste what little time you had left fighting an unwinnable battle. Perhaps if he had truly listened, if he had embraced those fleeting moments instead of railing against them, he might have cherished your final days more deeply.

His son, too young to fully grasp the concept of death, struggled with the finality of it all. He understood that you would never return, yet accepting it was a different matter entirely. Jisung’s heart broke anew each time he saw the confusion and sorrow in his child’s eyes, a mirror of his own torment.

Holding his son tighter, Jisung wished he could find the right words to ease the pain, to make sense of a world that had suddenly lost its light. But words failed him, crumbled under the weight of their shared grief. Instead, he let the silence speak, hoping the strength of his embrace could convey the love and comfort his words could not.

The treehouse, once a symbol of their shared joy, now held their sorrow. The walls, which had echoed with laughter and dreams, now seemed to absorb their pain, standing as silent witnesses to their loss. But within this small, sacred space, surrounded by the memories of happier times, Jisung hoped they could begin to heal. He would be there for his son, a steadfast presence in the storm of their grief, guiding him through the darkness with a love that, while tested, remained unbroken.

As the last light of day faded, Jisung held his son close, both finding a semblance of solace in each other’s presence. In the quiet, grief-stricken aftermath, they began to forge a new bond, one tempered by loss but strengthened by their enduring love. And in that silent communion, Jisung found a glimmer of hope that they would eventually find their way through the darkness together.

이용복 ── LEE YONGBOK.

In a home where the relentless energy of three young girls and their single father painted every day with hues of joyous chaos, peace was a fleeting visitor. The air thrummed with the symphony of exuberant laughter, the vibrant discord of simultaneous chatter, and the relentless rhythm of youthful exuberance. Yongbok would never trade this tempestuous world for anything, yet a hollow ache lingered for the presence of the one who had been the steady heartbeat of their lives.

Your sudden departure had cast a profound shadow over their once lively abode, transforming it into a quieter realm where your laughter’s echoes were replaced by an oppressive silence. As time wove its delicate fabric over the jagged edges of grief, the house gradually adjusted to a new cadence, yet the weight of your absence hung heavy in every corner.

Despite this, Yongbok discovered fragments of you embedded within the fabric of their daily lives. He saw your essence in the selfless nurturing of his eldest daughter, who had seamlessly stepped into the role of co-caregiver. Her quiet acts of love and responsibility were a poignant echo of the devotion you had always shown, a continuation of your spirit in her every gesture.

In the middle child’s vibrant monologues about obscure topics, Yongbok glimpsed your enduring influence. Her unquenchable thirst for knowledge mirrored the intellectual curiosity you had nurtured, each passionate explanation a living testament to your legacy.

The youngest, with her mischievous gleam and boundless spirit, kept Yongbok perpetually on his toes. Her playful antics and joyful mischief were a vivid reminder of the vivacity you had infused into their home, a living echo of the light you had brought into their lives.

In the quiet moments, Yongbok could still feel your presence. The post-it notes left in his lunch bag by his eldest daughter, each inscribed with a simple message of love, were imbued with your warmth. The tender strokes of his middle daughter’s fingers through his hair during their movie nights were a silent connection to you. And in the gentle inquiries of his youngest, her head peeking around the door to ensure he was alright, he felt the deep compassion you had instilled in her.

Though you were absent from the milestones and daily rhythms, your essence lived on through them. In the small, tender acts of affection and love, you continued to be a cherished part of their lives, an enduring presence in their hearts.

김승민 ── KIM SEUNGMIN.

Seungmin had been absent through the vast expanse of your pregnancy, the relentless demands of touring keeping him away. He returned just in time to witness the birth, only to be swallowed by the crushing weight of your absence. The pain of missing those precious moments with you, of not being there to share in the miracle of your last days, was a wound that never healed. This haunting regret followed him, a constant reminder of a future lost.

The day you passed, Seungmin left Stray Kids, unable to bear the weight of the stage without you by his side. He couldn’t find solace in the bright lights or the rhythms of his music. Instead, he focused on his two sons—an older one, now sixteen, and a younger one, now twelve. The older boy, once a vibrant spirit, had retreated into the shadows of his room, his once lively demeanor replaced by a sullen silence. The baseball games that had once bound them together now lay abandoned, and Seungmin, despite the storm within, knew he had to reach out.

Determined to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, Seungmin planned a day just for the two of them. He left the youngest with his closest friend, Jeongin, and took his older son out. The car ride was a quiet procession of unspoken thoughts, the weight of their shared grief hanging heavily between them. When they finally arrived at their destination, Seungmin braced himself, ready to face the tender fracture of their relationship.

It took patience, but eventually, the silence broke. The older boy revealed his feelings for a boy at school, emotions that he struggled to understand. Seungmin was taken aback, but he remained calm, his heart aching with a blend of surprise and concern. As his son’s tears fell freely, Seungmin pulled him into a tender embrace, his own heart aching with a mixture of empathy and love. He whispered reassurances into his son’s hair, promising acceptance and protection, vowing to stand by him no matter what.

The boy, still tearful but comforted, then showed Seungmin a small journal. Inside was a song he had penned, a poignant melody woven with the threads of his conflicted feelings for the boy at school. The song was hauntingly beautiful, a reflection of his son’s delicate soul and burgeoning talent. Seungmin’s heart swelled with pride and love as he listened, recognizing the echoes of his own musical spirit in his child’s creation.

As the day drew to a close, Seungmin received a snapshot from Jeongin—his youngest child, covered in dirt and beaming with the joy of a day spent playing baseball. The image was a burst of pure happiness, a vivid reminder that even amidst the sorrow, moments of light and joy persisted.

As the sun set, Seungmin felt a renewed connection with his older son, a fragile yet precious bond rekindled through their shared experiences and heartfelt conversation. Though the regret of not being there for you lingered, he found solace in the fact that he was striving to be the father you would have been proud of. In the quiet moments of the evening, he hoped, with all his heart, that wherever you were, you watched over them and felt a deep pride in the man he was becoming—a father striving to honor your memory through the love and strength he gave to your family.

양정인 ── YANG JEONGIN.

Jeongin’s youngest daughter was a restless spirit, her stubborn yet carefree nature a constant reminder of the love she once shared with you. Each burst of laughter, every defiant flicker of joy, was a living echo of your vibrant presence. In contrast, his oldest son was a mirror of Jeongin’s own meticulous nature, his life meticulously ordered, each ambition carefully planned.

Lately, Jeongin’s heart had been heavy with worry. His daughter, brimming with reckless exuberance, frequently dashed off to meet a boy Jeongin knew was unworthy. The thought of her entangled with someone without a future gnawed at him, leaving him adrift in a sea of concern. As he lay awake at night, the silence seemed to taunt him, and he often found himself wondering how you would have navigated these troubled waters if you had still been there to guide them.

One night, as the moonlight spilled softly through the window, Jeongin was wrenched from sleep by the unmistakable sound of muffled sobs. His heart raced as he followed the cries to his daughter’s room. He paused at the door, the murmur of his son’s voice cutting through the silence. The room, once a sanctuary of dreams, was now a cocoon of whispered regrets and stifled tears. His daughter’s voice wavered with the weight of her shame, confessing her feelings of foolishness for having trusted the boy. His son, with a soothing calmness that mirrored your gentle strength, reassured her that she wasn’t foolish, merely swept up in the exhilarating tide of young love. He told her she deserved better than a boy with no future, his words a soft balm to her wounded spirit.

Jeongin’s heart ached with a mixture of pride and sorrow as he heard his son’s comforting tones, the echoes of your nurturing spirit resonating in his voice. After a few moments, he gathered the courage to step into the room. His eyes were tender with understanding as he took in the scene: his daughter’s tear-streaked face, her hands buried in her lap. Her cries grew louder as she saw him, her embarrassment palpable as she shielded her face with her hands.

Jeongin knelt before her, his expression a blend of love and compassion. Gently, he reached for her hands, drawing them away from her face to hold them in his own. His touch was a lifeline, a silent promise of unwavering support.

“You told me so, I know,” she choked out, her voice a trembling whisper.

“I would never say that, my love,” Jeongin murmured, his voice rich with tenderness. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close against his chest. His gaze met his son’s, a shared understanding passing between them.

“I know it hurts,” Jeongin whispered into her hair, his voice a soothing melody against her ear, “but this isn’t the end.” His embrace was a warm cocoon, a sanctuary of love amidst the storm of her emotions. The night unfolded in a delicate tapestry of comfort and hope, a testament to the enduring love that bound them together, even in the quiet absence of your guiding presence.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @bowsnbang @nothinginterestingtoshowhere

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

[rabbitsrants]

CONAN DIES WHEN RAN CRIES

i'll let shinichi explain:

chapter 71

when i first read this chapter, i thought that shinichi was sweet talking ran to avoid her wrath, but rereading the manga made me realize how misguided i was

"it hurts me when you cry" is shinichi admitting something deeply personal, it's him explaining why ran's tears always get a reaction out of him, regardless of the circumstances, regardless of the body he's in

chapter 9

ran: is struggling with shinichi's absence

shinichi: starts calling her on the phone as himself

chapter 48

ran: is emotionally overwhelmed after the karaoke bar case, thinking that shinichi is back and avoiding her, waits for him in the cold for three hours

shinichi: comes up with the idea of talking to her as himself by turning off the lights

i love this moment so much, cause he's using both ran's love language (physical touch) and his own (words of affirmation) to ground and reassure her and it works

chapter 95

shinichi: tells ran to stop crying and ignores heiji in the middle of a case to ask her to wait for him

chapter 143

shinichi: checks on ran after using her for his deduction, drops honorifics when he realizes what he's done and defeatedly endures her tears

also shinichi: never involves her in a case to this extent ever again, even 1000 chapters later

chapter 260

shinichi: involuntary flakes on ran during their date and has to face her as conan

also shinichi: forgets he's conan for a sec as he drops the most epic lines in the manga

chapter 334

ran: is heartbroken cause it's valentine's day and shinichi's still gone

shinichi:

puts the jacket on her when she falls alseep,

reaches out to her as himself

and eats her chocolate

just to get her to smile again.

chapter 479-483

ran: supsects conan's real identity again and feels like he's completely out of reach even though he's so close

also ran: stops suspecting him but still expresses feelings of emotional distance to shinichi

shinichi: gets a second phone just for ran

and carries it with him wherever he goes.

chapter 727 (white day)

ran: starts crying because she thinks shinichi didn't get her anything for white day

shinichi: goes out of his way to draw attention to his gift so she stops crying

(LMFAO, he's so extra)

chapter 743-752

ran: feels like her feelings for shinichi are one-sided, is absolutely devasted, runs off crying

shinichi: drops his current case, runs after her

and confesses his love for her, so she never doubts his feelings for her again.

chapter 884

ran: is frustrated by all the misfortune shinichi brings

shinichi:

in conclusion, shinichi only has two weaknesses: aptx 4869 and ran's tears. and the funniest part is that aptx didn't even kill him like it was supposed to. ran's tears on the other hand? i believe they possess great power. enough power to kill shinichi?

visit the shinran library for more

[hyacintheros]

It's Called: Freefall

|| (Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x Fem!Reader)

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A smidge of angst

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: In the Dreaming, a once vibrant realm now lies in ruins after Morpheus' century-long absence, leaving the Queen and Lucienne struggling to maintain its remnants. When Morpheus finally returns, weak and broken, the Queen's unwavering love brings him solace, as they begin the journey of restoring both the realm and his shattered heart.

The Dreaming, once home to beautifully lush forests and paths for its visitors to travel through, now lays grey and barren, stones and ash replacing the garden.

"Lucienne? What do you think?" The girl says, once Queen of this land, now one of the only inhabitants left.

"I think it's wonderful, My Lady. Though, how long do you think they will last this time? We got about a week out of them last time we tried." Lucienne remarks, wanting to be helpful with the new garden, but she knows it won't last, not without Morpheus.

"We'll do what we can, hopefully I can find something in the library that may help us this time around." The librarian says, walking off.

Though before she can really go anywhere, the air around them changes. Once tense and stuffy for a century, now feeling like a breath of fresh air. Confused by this, both women look at each other.

They go to the gates of the Dreaming, hoping to not find an intruder, they've had quite the few 'visitors', usually Lucifer wanting whatever is left of the Dreaming.

Instead, they find a naked Morpheus, a body the Queen knew very well. She rushes over, covering him with her cloak. Her hands travel all over him, touching his face and chest, trying to etch it into her brain.

"Morpheus..?" She whispers, barely audible. He looks at her, tears welling in his eyes, he looks terribly weak and vulnerable. A state she's only seen once before, when Orpheus died many years in the past.

He envelopes her in a desperate hug, inhaling her scent, practically eating her whole. Lucienne watches, a little awkwardly. They stay like that, just taking each other in, wordlessly.

Morpheus pulls away, reluctant, still keeping a hand on her. He observes the area, looking at the devastation that whisked in his departure. His palace in literal crumbles, the land is practically barren, their dimension in ruins..

She takes him back to the palace, Lucienne following close behind and updating him on what had occurred. They really did try their best, with Y/N's magic and Lucienne's library, but never could they be as powerful as Morpheus.

“The residents slowly left, most held hope you would come back, but after fifty years or so…” Y/N Mutters, holding onto him as if he were such a delicate crystal, her fingertips burning Morpheus skin in the most touch-starved way possible. One hundred and six years of no physical contact with another being, just in a stupid hamster ball. He’s practically melting into the girl.

They arrived at a wing of the rubbled palace, a few chambers still held up, ushering Morpheus to take a shower and relax. “Darling, are you alright? You’re so pale and gaunt.. Let me see if Abel and Cain have something for you to munch on!” His wife says in a hurry, off to see what they can offer. Though before she can go on her adventure, Morpheus tugs on her wrist, not wanting her to leave.

“Stay, my love.. I will recover when I rest, but please just stay by my side.” She knows he has a double meaning, smiling so sweetly at him, as if he were the stars and she were the moon. “I’ll always be here, even if the sun falls and the moon bursts into pieces, I’ll stand by your side.” She mutters to him as she pecks at his lips.

Morpheus is rarely an emotional person, but hearing that makes his heart feel like it was embroidered by her hands, string by string. He looks at his wife, still in the bathtub, and gives her a soft kiss. One filled with love, adoration, and absolute desperation.

She giggles as she pulls back, yet he chases her lips, capturing them once again. “You are drained and weak, there is much rest needed to be done before anything else!” she chides, finally pulling away from his reach. He rolls his eyes, submerging himself below the water.

The Queen chuckles, going to retrieve some clothing for his, as well as to prepare something for him to eat. Rummaging through the rest of his closet, she lands on a cloak that should still fit him. Laying it on the bed, she hurries to make something in the kitchen that always needs toe be repaired due to the crumbling nature of the realm.

“My Lady, would you like some help? Abel and Cain have graciously given some vegetables and a chicken they were raising.” Lucienne puts a basket of vegetables and a butchered chicken. “Oh that is lovely, I wish we had time to make chicken soup, but I think a roasted chicken would be quicker.”

She grabs the chicken, rubbing some seasoning and olive oil first, then pops it into the oven so it’ll be done about the same time as the vegetables. Lucienne helps prep the vegetables, peeling carrots and washing the cauliflower. Y/N is chopping everything up and making sure the stove is on with a pot of boiling water.

They wait a few minutes to time everything perfectly. In the meantime, they set up the dining table and wash anything that they had used in the cooking process. Lucienne pops back into the kitchen, salting the boiling water and drops the vegetables in. In return for the food, they have invited Abel and Cain to join them for dinner.

While Lucienne keeps an eye on the vegetables, Y/N pulls the chicken out of the oven and carving the meat away from the bones. Lucienne makes a quick gravy to serve over the chicken. They both plate everything up into serving dishes, humming a little tune and chatting about the recent duel they heard about in Hell.

Morpheus by this point has dried himself off and changed into the clothes Y/N left out for him. The smell coming from the kitchen urges him out of the room. Though Morpheus and his kind do not die from starvation, the feeling of pure hunger aches deep within.

“Dream? So it’s true! You’ve returned!” Abel envelopes him in a strong hug. Out of the two brothers, Abel has always been the more emotional one. Cain greets him, welcoming him back and giving a hug as well.

“So I take that you’ll be joining us for dinner?” Dream asks, sitting at his spot at the dining table. The brothers nod, taking their own respective seats. It's rare that they would get to dine with Morpheus, even before he left. Morpheus was much too busy to entertain guests, one of his deepest regrets when he was pondering his life in that fishbowl of a bubble.

Y/N and Lucienne bring out the dishes, serving everyone a hefty chunk of food. She briefly kisses Morpheus’ temple as she’s serving him, then returning to her own seat. There’s an elephant in the room that no one wants to address, making the atmosphere slightly tense. “You were gone for one hundred years, Dream.. Where were you?” Y/N cuts into her chicken while asking, trying to be super nonchalont.

Dream sighs, taking a bite of his potato before answering. “A man, he refused to accept the death of his son, leading him to try and make a deal with Death. He recited the incantation wrong or maybe it was the wrong spell entirely, but he had captured me instead. Kept trying to make a deal with me to bring his son back with mortal currencies and royalties, though it is not within my power to offer such things. He hated his youngest son, refused to accept him. But after he died, his son continued to keep me in this glass ball. His son killed Jessamy! What kind of person would do such a thing?? Only managed to escape because a guard had fallen asleep.” He rants on, enraged by such a depressing chapter of his life.

The rest of the table looks at each other worriedly as he explains, Y/N looking absolutely mortified. She puts a hand over his, trying to distract him, giving him a warm and sympathetic smile. She pours him more water, silently encouraging to drink more, knowing how dehydrated he must be.

Everyone is really awkward, not quite sure how to go about this. In the background, a piece of the west tower has fallen, leaving behind a huge boom. It doesn’t phase them, but Morpheus jumps up like a little kitten, looking around confused.

“Oh gosh, don’t worry sweetheart, come let’s take a walk,” She asks if Lucienne could finish cleaning up the dining table, which Lucienne accepts and wiggles her eyebrows. Y/N rolls her eyes in a teasing manner, holding Dream’s arm.

They walk to different parts of the realm, seeing how deserted and barren the land truly had become. Home’s were destroyed, dreams and nightmares loose, even Fiddler’s Green has gone! It brings him to literal tears, watching everything he has ever worked for be drained of it’s life.

“How dare they..? Take every litte piece of my world, my realm, my work! All for what? For some stupid boy who’s fought for his country? He played his part in life. Like every little domino in life, they fall, so what? You’ve ruined my life’s work, the entire reason of my existence for a son who tried so heavily to get away from your sick cult!?” He goes on and on, just venting his poor heart out to his wife.

She holds him in her arms, just like she did all those years ago.. “Muffin? Look at me.. shhh no it’s okay, cry it out love.” She’s petting his hair and playing with his hand. Morpheus has always been a tough man with little warmth in his heart, only ever reserved for Y/N. But being stuck in a hamster ball for a century has taken a toll on him, mentally speaking. Thinking of his life choices, his actions and words, regretting moments and missing out on so many things.

Now that he’s out of the horrible glass cage, Dream feels as though he’s found a saviour. Though Y/N was not able to save him from captivity, she did save him for the chains that weighed down his heart and mind. She saved him from the dark, festering thought that embedded themselves into his mind not even a whole day ago. Although there is much repair that is needed in his realm, in her arms, he is finally free.

[thefrogdalorian]

Exile

Din Djarin & GN!Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of losing Grogu, a distraught Din Djarin has vanished on a planet covered in oceans. You frantically track down your Mandalorian companion and remind him of his many attributes.

Word Count: 2.3k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: Din is going through it, but other than that, fluff! ✯ Author's Note: Set post season 2, slightly AU (TBoBF never happened!) I wanted to make to be read either platonically or romantically and explore emotions through weather. Hope you enjoyed!

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

The wind whistles around you with such ferocity that you momentarily fear it might sweep you away into the frigid ocean below. You would rather avoid taking a plunge into the choppy ocean that crashes on either side of the jetty you are taking tentative steps along.

Of course, a Mandalorian would never make it easy for you to catch up to him. The hours you have already spent searching for him today are a testament to that. It was early morning when you first noticed he was missing. Now, sunset appears imminent as occasional golden beams break through the thick, grey clouds. 

Your companion cuts a lonely figure at the edge of the wooden structure. His helmet rests by his side, glinting ever-so-slightly in the low light. The sight of him helmetless still surprises you, even though it perhaps should be one you should be accustomed to by now. 

Since he broke his Creed to say farewell to The Child you never even met but whose absence casts a long shadow over the man you adore, Din has relaxed a little concerning matters of the helmet. 

Still, the sight of his damp dark brown curls fluttering slightly in the wind catches you off-guard. It feels so thrilling and new each time you see him like this, no matter how many times you have seen him freed from the confines of his helmet. 

As you approach the jetty, you understand why he has chosen such a destination. It is secluded, soundtracked only by the waves crashing against the side of the jetty, with only the endless ocean and sky for company. 

The risk of being spotted by anyone else is slim. He faces nothing but the ocean until it disappears beyond the horizon; a self-imposed exile. 

You come to a halt a few paces away, taking in the sight before you and planning your next move. He sits on the jetty's edge, his long legs dangling down towards the ocean below. You suck in a tense breath, wondering whether it is safe. What if an errant wave from the storm, which threatens to break at any moment, surges up over the side of the jetty and washes you both away?

You shake your head at the stubborn man, momentarily resenting him for putting you in this position. Then, you crouch down to join him. Your devotion to him is absolute.

When you finally sit beside him, it is plain to see that a storm of equal strength to the one brewing over the coast rages in the dark brown eyes you love so much.

“Talk to me, Din,” you say gently, imploring him to open up. 

You wish that he would tilt his head to meet your gaze. Instead, his eyes remain firmly fixed on the horizon.

From this angle, his profile is in full view. You are unsure whether your sudden bout of breathlessness is caused by his appearance or the anxiety of sitting in such a precarious position. 

You take a moment to appreciate his handsome face.

Your eyes trail across the curve of his striking nose. A feature you are certain that was sculpted by the Maker. It stands out on his face, untouched by his anguish; a strong, constant attribute, unaltered by his heartbreak. 

Elsewhere, his devastation is evident as he stares towards the ocean; a haunted, vacant look in his eyes. Each wrinkle which lines his handsome face seems more pronounced, and his plush lips are curved downwards into a slight pout. The smattering of grey hairs, which have slowly appeared at his temples and in his patchy facial hair and neatly trimmed moustache, already make him look older than the man you first encountered mere months ago. 

Back then, you had never intended to catch a glimpse of his face. When you promised him passage on your ship, he explained that he would never remove his helmet in front of you.

Seeing his face had been a complete accident. You had assumed Din was secluded in his bunk. Instead, he was so engrossed in inspecting dust on the blaster that he was meticulously polishing on the workbench in the ship's hull that he did not hear you approaching. You were mortified at the misunderstanding, an emotion replaced by devastation when he did not speak to you for several days.

Such a transgression occurring only a few weeks into your travels together had certainly not helped to thaw the somewhat frosty nature of your dynamic, at least not in the short term. 

With the benefit of hindsight, you can see that it was perhaps the best thing that ever happened to you. It caused Din to slowly but surely open up to you. To reveal aspects of his life he had previously kept hidden. He told you of the loss of his parents and his subsequent adoption by Mandalorians. He spoke fondly of Grogu, of their travels together until it was cruelly cut short by the arrival of a Jedi. He revealed that he had not removed his helmet for so many years until he encountered the kid. He told you how he loved him, how he lost him. And of how he wished to begin living a new Way, by baring his face to you.

Naturally, you believed your increasing closeness meant you had gotten past the point of Din hiding his emotions from you. His absence on the ship this morning and forlorn appearance on the end of the jetty indicates otherwise. 

Realising that Din has not responded to you, you supply the words you know he cannot bear to utter. 

“You miss Grogu,” you finally offer. 

Din simply nods, his lip quivering at the mere mention of the boy’s name.

“I know. It’s hard,” you sigh, wishing that there was something you could do to alleviate his pain.

Din Djarin is a good man. He does not deserve to feel this way.

Unfortunately, it is all too easy for him to forget that fact. There is a certain darkness that follows him, which pervades his being.

It surprises you, given the selflessness he shows towards you and has throughout your travels together. Din is always intent on ensuring your comfort before his own. He allows you to nap first after a long hunt and gives you the freshest ration packs. When you are too tired to pilot, he takes control of the navigation systems and steering. Your ease is his priority. 

It makes the tales of his past life that he has occasionally shared difficult to reconcile with the gentle and kind man you know.

“You will grow around this, Din,” you remind him, “The pain will never lessen, but you will simply expand enough to accommodate it. 

Din shakes his head. He does not believe your words. But you are not going to accept such negative thinking from him. You silently vow not to leave here until he is aware of his attributes.

“You have so much to offer to the galaxy. I wish you could see that,” you sigh, somewhat exasperated that he cannot see himself in the same way you adore him.

Din momentarily looks like he might burst into tears before he closes his eyes and scowls slightly. The wrinkle above his nose becomes more prominent. You ache to reach out to smooth it beneath your fingertips. But that would be overstepping an invisible line the two of you wordlessly tread. 

To lighten the mood slightly, you decide to gently tease him. The playful ribbing is a defining feature of your dynamic. Something familiar and comfortable to fall back upon. 

“I was worried about you, you know. When you didn't wake me up with a steaming mug of caf this morning… I had to make my own. I was rather grumpy, calling you all sorts of names,” you inform him, “I’ve been looking for you all day, you buckethead.”

Your light reading has the opposite effect to what you intended. The affectionate usage of a derogatory nickname for Mandalorians causes Din’s bottom lip to tremble. The few tears which glistened on his waterline since your arrival finally spill over, trailing hot paths down his cheeks. You wish you could wipe them away, but that would surely be a transgression.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” Din finally chokes out. 

“You don’t have to exile yourself whenever you feel this way. You don’t have to pretend everything is alright in front of me, Din,” you remind him, keeping your voice soft, “You don’t have to hide your emotions.”

Din despondently shakes his head, “I feel so weak,” he admits.

You feel rage bubbling up within you, that he would ever think such a thing of himself.

“Din Djarin, you are the furthest thing from weak. You are the strongest man I know. You lost your boy, and you did not let it define you,” you remind him, “You carried on. For him.”

“Carried on hunting people,” Din scoffs.

You are stunned by his response. He has never shown any disillusionment with his line of work...

... until now.

You scan his face, desperate for the faintest tell as to his emotions. But it is as though he has placed the helmet on his head once again. Din is utterly unreadable, his brown eyes intently focused on his gloved hands as he nervously fiddles with the stitching. He is avoiding your gaze.

“Do you want to stop collecting bounties?” you question. 

“How can I?!” Din exclaims, “Fighting is the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

“That isn’t true, Din,” you shake your head, frustrated at this negative pattern of thinking he is trapped in, “Even though I have only known you for a short time, you have already proved you possess many commendable qualities.”

He finally meets your gaze, raising an inquisitive eyebrow as he seems keen for you to continue.

“You’re a deeply caring and considerate man, that counts for something for a start,” you insist, “Plus, you can fix a blaster or repair a ship better than anyone I’ve ever encountered in all of my years of travelling. You’re great at working with strangers, embracing their cultures and differences even if they are alien to you. You have so many talents, Din. There is an entire galaxy of possibilities out there. Starting fresh is daunting, turning your back on all you have ever known. But if anyone can do it, you can, Din Djarin.”

Din nods slowly, then turns to you with a pained expression, “Will you stay by my side?” he questions.

“Always,” you whisper, without missing a beat. 

Din reaches out and takes your hand in his. The gloves are surprisingly soft, the stitching slightly rough and frayed against your skin, thanks to the way he has been fidgeting with them. He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb and softly smiles at you, a demonstration of his appreciation. 

“No more running, or hiding,” you nod, “No more exile.”

“No more exile,” Din confirms.

You sit there for a few moments in companionable silence before you lean your head on Din’s shoulder. The beskar of his pauldron is cool beneath your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine both from its frigidity and at the thrill of being so close to him.

The gesture strays dangerously close to crossing a line you have never defined, but when Din does not recoil, you settle into this newfound closeness. The anxiety of before is replaced by tranquillity. Especially as the waves calm down and the clouds begin to part, revealing the sun, which has been attempting to permeate the dense greyness for most of the day. 

The sky glows, bronzed by streaks of reddish-orange and amber as the sun begins to disappear beyond the horizon. It is breathtaking. You lean away from his shoulder, glancing at him as if to confirm that he can also see the sight before you, that it is not a figment of your overactive imagination. 

You are awestruck by the sight of him. When you happened upon him, brooding and moody as he sat on the edge of the jetty, you thought your Mandalorian companion could not be more magnificent. You are pleased to discover that you were wrong.

Din is bathed in soft, golden light; his tanned skin coppered by the beauty of nature. The deep wrinkles in his face have lessened now, and his lips no longer pouty as they almost threaten to curve into a smile. He is mesmerising. 

He catches you red-handed, drinking in his beauty. Din smirks at you, raising an eyebrow as he shakes his head at you. No doubt you will take the heat in the form of plenty of teasing later. For now, his expression grows serious and sentimental and he opens his mouth to address you. 

“Thank you,” Din whispers.

“You’re welcome,” you smile.

You would be content to stay in this moment for a while longer, but with darkness rapidly approaching, you need to return to your ship. 

As you stand, you reach out and offer your hand to Din, “Come on, we have the rest of our lives to begin.” 

Din nods and smiles as you pull him to his feet. He bends down and carefully replaces his helmet before taking your hand once more. 

The two of you walk hand-in-hand along the jetty, the waves no longer ferociously crashing at the sides in the fading light. The storm has abated for now, and you reckon you will at least be able to make it back to the ship before another one approaches. 

With a smile, you glance at the impressively armoured man by your side. Overwhelmed by relief and gratitude that you could break down those hard emotional walls of his, almost as solid as his beskar’gam, and reach the man below. 

As you reach the beach, Din squeezes your hand softly. You are certain that he is returning your smile beneath his helmet. Buoyed by the promise of a future together.

With you to stand by his side and pull him back from the abyss, Din Djarin has returned from exile.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

But also! For all their little spats and disagreements, a core facet of Ed and Stede as a couple is they are always fundamentally kind and understanding and so gentle with each other.

Ed has a special gentle voice that he reserves just for talking to Stede. In s2, seeing his destroyed cabin, Stede is devastated not because of his things - those can be repaired and replaced - but because of what he knows it says about what a dark place Ed was in. Even at their absolute worst, they raise their voices for like two seconds before pulling it back down and talking to each other calmly and actively listening to what the other has to say. The argument in s2e7 that Ed meant to be a blow-up fight was so tame that it reassured me in the week leading up to the finale airing because it felt so much like the kind of argument you have with your significant other that you both storm away from and then feel better to discuss in the morning.

And that's not even considering what it's like when things are good! They just love spending time together! They love listening to the other telling them about his day! They're encouraging and sweet and devastatingly tender! They check in on each other and know each other better than anyone! When they're around each other, everything feels right, and when they're not, it's like the show revolves around that absence.

They're just so good to each other!

[thosewildcharms]

Just broke my own heart thinking about Rick being absent for Lori’s pregnancy with Judith since he was, understandably, emotionally checked out AND being completely absent with Michonne’s for RJ and how he missed welcoming them both into the world, plus not seeing them grow up as he said, for a man that only cares about his family he must carry so much guilt over that or feel cursed… also thought about Michonne probably being extremely anxious when RJ turned the age Andre was when he died and she had no one to talk to about it. Thinking about her having to deal with it all while being a grieving single mother of 2 leading a community also made me sad. lol I know they’re both resilient fighters but damn all of that is so heavy! I’m so happy they’re all back together now and can start some healing

ANON BESTIE WHAT THE FUCK?

well okay sure. let's be depressing for a bit but then we should go back to grimes family headcanons okay?

it's honestly so tragic that rick was not able to see the birth of the child he wanted so badly, that he didn't even know RJ existed for almost a decade. the length of that time jump is honestly so evil - like yes, on one level it heightens the intensity of their bond, the way that they never even considered anyone else over all those years and stayed completely in love throughout that absence and distance. but god, it's just a really fucking long time. it's devastating!

it's also why I love that scene in the towl finale where rick expresses how angry he is about it, how just for a minute he lets himself say out loud that he just wants to be selfish for once and say fuck it let's go home, because he doesn't want to miss any more time than he already has. i also love the way andy played the reunion with judith and rj: the quiet grief in his face because he's mourning the time lost even while they're right in front of him, maybe even more so. like, of course he was distraught over how much he missed. this man held a shard of glass to his neck when he truly thought he could never see his family again (which i think we moved on from a bit too quickly tbh). his love for his family is his motivation for everything. keeping him away from them is the worst thing you could do to him, which is btw is why i'm not mad okafor is dead.

as for michonne. well my god anon did you have to go there with that andre/rj thing? i mean, yes you're absolutely right and you're completely brilliant but jfc that hurt. i honestly can't even think about those six years michonne spent grieving rick and raising their kids and protecting that community and getting that scar and everything else without getting upset. i genuinely hate it so much. i'm also constantly thinking about the scene where she finds evidence that rick is alive, the specific way her face contorts as she holds that phone like she's scared to even dare to hope, even though she never fully believed he was gone in the first place. we already saw how much she was struggling but that scene makes me want to set myself on fire. it's all just so fucking sad.

so yes. they better be left alone to heal in peace forever no more Situations no more near death experiences no more wars or fascist megalomaniacs with armies to overthrow. they've done enough!

[alice-after-dark]

Hello！Here are some of my random shit thoughts，I know I have no logic and stupid.Anyway I am sorry 🥺

Ok! imagine a scene like this 🥹

After Alastor just broke up with Vox,when he made a deal and was about to be taken away by his master for seven years

When Alastor was angry at his owner decision and he was punished by his owner and was about to be taken away, Vox discovered this through surveillance, and he immediately rushed to the scene in panic. He asks what stupid thing Alastor did and is devastated to find that Alastor sold his soul. So the still damn stupid Vox exchanged his soul for the freedom of Alastor's soul, and in exchange Vox was taken away for seven years.

Vox was taken away. Alastor was confused for a moment. He tried to convince himself to laugh at Vox's stupidity, to be glad that he made a deal without any cost, and to continue leisurely as if nothing had happened, but he found that he had no way to do this. He didn't know why he started to dream. He dreamed about that stupid picture box, the days when they drank, danced and laughed together, the look of relief and despair in Vox's eyes when he was taken away, and the chain around Vox's neck. He began to become uncontrollably irritable and gradually collapsed. Realizing that the picture box might never come back to him, Alastor finally realized what he had lost.

He began to kill and do everything to try to get Vox out of his mind, and finally had to accept it all in despair. He probably loved Vox damn much. Alastor collected all the belongings left by his departed friend and took the photos with him. In order to divert attention, he sponsored the princess's hotel

Seven years later, Vox suddenly returned, as if nothing had changed. He still looked arrogant and confident, and began to expand his power on a large scale. But something must have happened to him. Vox avoided Alastor, and panicked when he saw Alastor, then pretended to be indifferent. He was afraid of being touched by anyone, and no matter who touched Vox, he would electrocute them.

On the other side, Alastor learned the news that Vox was back, his heart exploded, the damn joy and excitement and chaotic emotions messed up his mind, he didn't want to think about why, he just wanted to find Vox, just wanted to see this stupid picture box, but found that Vox avoided him, he felt confused and desperate, he tried every way to get close to Vox, when he saw Vox's mental trauma he became more worried and urgently wanted to know what happened in the past seven years. When the media overlord came back, he missed a lot of changes, which made him encounter some difficulties. The seven-year absence made other Vees unable to accept him very well. He began to work independently, while facing his own mental trauma and Alastor's relentless pressure. There must be a lot of conflicts between them and then they opened their hearts and reconciled. Anyway, this is my random thoughtLOL…

Don't apologize! This was a really fun read! Thank you for sending it!

Actually I have considered a similar idea in the past (the idea of Vox giving up his soul to free Alastor from his deal, but that's as far as I got).

I really like where you went with this idea! There's a lot of nuance to how it would have affected both him and Alastor.

Really makes me wonder exactly why Vox doesn't want to be touched and why he's so desperately avoiding Alastor. Honestly my brain goes to bad places in terms of why he wouldn't want to be touched but there could be a lot of reasons. I like the idea of him struggling because he's been gone for so long. Progression and innovation are his thing and now he's 7 years behind everything and the Vees have continued on without him. That must make him really feel like they never needed him in the first place (I absolutely headcanon Vox as having a wide variety of insecurities- being useless is one of them - so I can see how this would make things really hard for him).

I love Alastor slowly coming to the realization that he's lost something precious to him and doing everything he can to distract himself from thinking about Vox. He doesn't want to face what happened and he doesn't want to even consider that it might be his fault.

This is such a good idea! Ya know, I would totally read this if you wrote it out!

[runninriot]

...✍️ when one silly little brain fart turns into a 500-word-scene while having your mom and brother over for dinner. Oh, well 😏

   „How could you do this to me?”

Eddie’s being dramatic. Overly so. For the last five minutes, ever since Steve stepped out of the shower and back into the bedroom, he’s been whining and pouting, lamenting the damage Steve has done.

   “Don’t you love me anymore?”

He looks absolutely devastated, full-on puppy eyes and quivering bottom lip.

It’s ridiculous.

And kinda cute.

But mostly ridiculous because-

   “Eds, stop it! You act like I’ve taken away your favourite toy.”

   “Well, duh! You kinda have. Not my favourite favourite but- where am I supposed to hold onto now when I make sweet love to you?”

Steve bursts out laughing when Eddie wiggles his eyebrows but goes straight back to pouting.

   “I told you, it’s only for this silly photo shoot I was asked to do.”

   “Yeah right, because apparently Vickie is now more important than me, your boyfriend. Shouldn’t I have a say in this?” Eddie crosses his arms before his chest, still not ready to stop the moping.

  “It’s gonna grow back. You’ll survive.”

Steve steps closer to where Eddie is sitting on the bed and leans down to give him a quick kiss on his forehead. When he wants to turn and get dressed, Eddie’s hands on his chest stop him.

   “Hmpf, don’t like it,” Eddie grumbles while letting his hands linger on the smooth surface of Steve’s freshly shaven skin.

   “Still feels good, jus’ something missing.”

He lets his hands glide over Steve’s chest, only hesitant, testing the unfamiliar feeling. So gentle, like he’s exploring Steve’s body for the first time all over again.

It makes Steve shiver despite the warmth of Eddie’s hands.

   “Still beautiful,” Eddie whispers, lips suddenly so close to his skin that Steve can feel the tingle of Eddie’s breath on it.

   “So beautiful, baby.”

It’s like Eddie is talking to himself, completely lost in examining Steve’s chest with his hands. And his lips. And his tongue.

Steve exhales a quiet moan, feels his blood pumping down. He’s trying hard to keep himself together, to not immediately throw himself into Eddie’s lap.

   “Eddie, ah, do- don’t start anything you won’t finish.”

They don’t really have time for that. Steve promised Robin to pick her up and Eddie is due for an appointment with a tattoo client in about half an hour. Not like they couldn’t indulge in a quickie but that’s just never enough for Steve. Steve always wants more, loves when Eddie takes his time with him, takes him deep and hard until they’re both a breathless, gooey mess.

Eddie lifts his head to look up at him, eyes love-drunk and dark. But then his mouth cracks into a wicked grin and fuck- Steve knows right then he’s already lost the battle.

  “Oh, I’ll finish, baby doll. The question is, will I let you finish?”

Eddie’s threat causes Steve to moan loudly, unable to keep it in.

He should’ve known Eddie would be out for vengeance for shaving his chest hair without a warning. He’d felt a little too bold when he stepped out of the bathroom, towel low on his hips, chest bare and naked, presenting poor Eddie the absence of what he loves to grab and hold.

Steve knows Eddie loves him with or without, that he's only playing, teasing.

And it makes him stupidly horny.

   “Yeah, daddy? Gonna punish me for being a bad boy?”

the best you ever tasted | ao3

[strwberri-milk]

How about Kaeya and/or Diluc with a reader who’s a childhood friend that had to move to another country and who they originally thought was a boy but when the reader moves back they end up not recognizing them at all at first due to the changes that has happened to the reader.

And by changes I mean the reader has developed large breasts and hips.

Feel free to reject if you don’t feel comfortable writing this.

im going to change this request a little bit!! ive changed it more to just. a childhood friend moving away and then they come back and kaeya and diluc have a "oh no theyre hot" moment also for some reason this is modern au and i have no idea why but it just happened and diluc and kaeya dont hate each other so yeah <3

They both remember growing up with you of course! You were one of the first friends that they made, and the two of them routinely enjoyed spending time with you. You were able to be the middle ground between them both, mediating arguments or just being the person they can rely on if they're having a bad day.

Not only that, but they would do the same for you. Even as young as you three were, you knew that to find people who cared for you like Kaeya and Diluc would. That's why when you found out you were moving you were absolutely devastated. Not having them felt like some kind of punishment that you didn't want to deal with but you're a child. You can't do anything about it.

Neither of them forgot about you. They would talk about you every once in a while, or try to reach out to you. With being as young as the three of you were nobody thought to try and ask you for the address to your new place, or ask the adults to give someone a number to contact. There was never a need for it before after all, and it was too late by the time they remembered.

One day out of the blue the two of them found themselves added into a groupchat randomly on Instagram. They were both ready to just ignore the message when they realise it was your name. As soon as you provided some information that proved that it really was you, they just had to arrange a meetup for the first time in over ten years.

Both of them were incredibly excited, ready to catch up and spend time with you before you presumably left to go chase whatever it was that you were doing in your time apart. Neither of them expected to see you and immediately find themselves almost swooning over you.

Diluc was always smoother and more able to come off as cold and aloof in his adult life. You had no idea how to respond to this man - who was very attractive mind you - that seemed to parry your responses with tailored ones of his own. Any hint of the hyperactive child that you used to know seemed to be gone.

On the other hand, Diluc never thought that you could stir up these feelings in him. He always felt as though you were someone incredibly close and important to him but there was nothing in him that expected to see just how amazing you looked. He knew that he always admired you (and Kaeya knows it's a crush that Diluc won't acknowledge) and he absolutely loved hearing about your accomplishments but

He held your gaze as though you were just a business partner, unsure of what to say to you. You were smiling so brightly and his heart ached at the sight of it. He found himself so easily lost in your attention that he was sure you could tell. However, judging by how engaged you are in your conversation with Kaeya he's starting to doubt that.

He definitely wants to spend some more time with you one on one and ends up giving you his number. The feelings that were coming up in his chest were starting to not feel all platonic and the only way he could determine that for sure would be to spend more time with you.

You were shocked to see how outgoing Kaeya became in your absence. He was always such a quiet kid, clinging to Diluc's sleeves and now here he was in front of you, tits out.

He easily carried the conversation with Diluc, the two of them eagerly trying to tell you about things in their life. Kaeya however was only doing it with the thinly veiled layer of panic that you'd see through his facade and how his childhood affection for you was beginning to grow into something stronger.

Seeing you again after so long was stirring those emotions up again in him and he didn't know how to cope with them. He was trying to cover it up by diverting your conversation to Diluc but that wasn't working as well as he'd hoped since all it did was give him the opportunity to admire you even more.

When the three of you part ways he slips you his number as well, telling you that there's no way he's going to let you disappear for a decade again after he's finally got a taste of you again.

[livelaughlovekny]

He declares his love for you

a/n: Suddenly felt the urge to write this and was rather rushed and short.

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS + ANGST (Comfort at the end) I'm really bad at angst but I tried. This fic can also be read with any other characters in mind since I didn't mention any names. (rewritten version)

 He could tell. He could notice all your little signs. He knew how nervous you were deep under your cheery and assured facade. He silently observed how you carried out daily tasks and training while constantly harbouring your fear. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand where the source of your fear was, it was that he didn’t know how to comfort you. How was he, just a single fighter, supposed to rid of the flames of uncertainty of  war and death that smothered you daily?

  Your sole comfort was his presence. Hard concrete evidence that he was alive and well and here. But you knew peace wouldn’t last long when a war is approaching. So you would hold his hand and talk to him whenever you could, desperate for a sign that all would turn out well in the end. His silent love for you would be enough for now so you continued with what you hoped would always be your daily routine.

  But when the skies were dark and the gleaming stars were obscured, you couldn’t help but reveal your heart a little, “Do you believe in reincarnation and soulmates?” Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see that his head had turned to look at you, silently studying you. You knew it was dumb of you to ask such a question. He was known for being blunt and logical, such people would never be blinded by the idiocy and craziness of love and hope. And yet with the war approaching, you knew and felt your desperation soar along with your fear. You realised that your constant obsession over reincarnation and finding soulmates no matter what were your desire to forever be loved regardless of the situation.

  It was illogical and out of the blue of you really. You were never so revealing of your broken little heart during the span of your close and loving relationship. He was sure of it despite the constant blurred faces and vague voices in his head. He was sure you had never trusted someone so much. And he has never been more sure that he loved you and that when it comes to you, every thing in the world could never stop him from pleasing you, ensuring your happiness always came first. And how he wished he could find the words to express it. “No. Reincarnation and soulmates don’t exist. It’s silly of you to think so and such thoughts could lead you to your demise.” 

  His harsh and blunt words were what managed to seal away the raging fire of desperation within you. It burnt but at least now you wouldn’t know it was there. You smiled brightly at him and laughed. “You’re right, I should just focus on my training and the war,” squeezing his hands, you continued, “And I hope to see you in the light at the end of this hellish dark tunnel.” He didn’t respond or return your affectionate actions so you smiled and continued on talking on another topic. He silently listened to your rambles. If being cold would help you survive, he would just have to wait longer to express himself.

  Just like how his presence could soothe you, his absence left you absolutely devastated. His lashes fluttered gently as he struggled to finally be able to find the words he longed to tell you. Softly gripping your hands a little more firmly to get your attention, he cried as he finally managed to see what your lovely face looked like after his confession. You were his everything and now he could finally let you know. Clenching his pale hands tightly, you sobbed out words of anger and anguish towards the cruel world, determined to regain the love you lost.

  And so after many lifetimes, there you stood at the altar, once again holding hands just like the both of you did. There you stood, crying from the words your beloved uttered.  Unknowingly, he declared his love for you with the same words he did then. Except this time, all was well.

Perhaps reincarnation and soulmates didn’t exist but the both of you knew that there was no one else you could possibly meet in all your lifetimes and worlds that you would love as much as them.

  “...And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

a/n: i promise im working on my requests! Quote + Source: “And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” ― Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars (rewritten version)

[roguelov]

oof okay but imagine if y/n got kidnapped? like maybe some sorcerers found out about their connection to dream or idk, fucking lucifer kidnapped them or whatever

and maybe dream isn't able to find them immediately and with every passing day dream and hob just get more and more worried and angry

and eventually dream does find her and goes to get her while hob is anxiously waiting in the dreaming (he could still get hurt so dream didn't want him to come along)

dream is absolutely livid when he finds them, he deals with the kidnappers before returning to the dreaming with y/n

their reunion would just be filled with hugs and tears and kisses 😭

they definitely won't let go of their soulmate anytime soon🥹

Fucking yessssssss ughhh I love this type of shit 😩🥰

Dream and Hob who are utterly devastated you were taken under their noses, Dream and Hob who were eagerly waiting your return to the Dreaming so they could hear about your day only for you to never show up (perhaps your capturers sever your connection to the Dreaming), Dream and Hob who think the worst but hope for the best until they checked everywhere and they know for certain you were taken.

The Dreaming becomes so desolate and dreary in your absence, and all the light and love and hope is gone. Lucienne and Matthew aid in Dream’s and Hob’s search wishing to have their friend back and to restore the Dreaming (also maybe during your absence across the Waking more and more people have nightmares)

Dream and Hob throw themselves into finding you, but Hob still has a job so he begrudgingly goes to work. However his students can see a change in him and so do some staff that eventually by the third day he’s asked to take time off. Hob is both relieved but feels awful for not being there for his students. Dream and Hob also lay awake at night in a bed made for three and both longingly stare at the empty space between them. They try and do comfort each other but all they can think about is what is happening to you and where could you be

And when Dream is finally able to locate you? Such a wave of relief flows through him and Hob. And yes, Dream goes off on his own to rescue you. He wants Hob to stay behind to protect him, but also Dream knows Hob would have ran in ready to kick everyone’s ass. That man has centuries of fighting and going to war in him so he definitely would have unleashed hell on your capturers. It would be better and safer for all if Hob stays behind

When you finally are saved and return to the Dreaming, Dream and Hob hold you so tight. They help you get a bath, scrubbing your body while pressing kisses into any injuries you got. They help dress you then guide you into bed where they sandwich you between them kissing and holding you so dearly. They whisper apologies, they beg for forgiveness, and when you smile and tell them they have nothing to apologize for they melt and nearly cry. They will cherish you and adore you for the next few days until you are well, and constantly tell you that they love you and how they will always watch over you

[nol0nger-human]

MAG146: Threshold. An Excruciatingly Deep Analysis. Word Count: 6702 .

The Final scene in mag146 is something i think about often. It wasn't a scene of the three assistants confronting Jon at Martin's behest, it was a scene of desperation for a tangible target that couldn't overpower them the way every other monster had, that could be loosely quantified as deserving every ugly emotion they've had to direct inwards. I think a large part of season four as a whole, is the lack of a "big bad guy" and how the absence of one big pure evil enemy can actually. make things worse sometimes. because back when Elias was present everyone had someone to blame. all their anger about their respective situations could be tied back to Elias and so everyone had common ground in their hatred for him, they had an outlet. Tim and Melanie both lashed out at almost everyone but in the end it was Elias Melanie tried to kill multiple times. It was Elias that Tim's rage always traced back to, and they he held as the true evil until his bitter end. Basira could blame Elias since he's the one who practically forced her into joining the institute to save Daisy. It made things easy. It was simple because it's so easy to direct all your hatred towards the person who's the obvious big bad antagonist. But as soon as Elias was not present anymore, none of them had that outlet anymore. That's a large part of the reason that Jon’s the one being scapegoated. He's the only one with no connection to them all. And the only one they can safely turn their rage towards. Basira and Daisy have a bond near unbreakable due to their history, Melanie and Basira went through the trauma of the Flesh attack together, Daisy and Melanie have the common thread of both being people attempting redemption despite it being what feels like their nature. And through this, they all have something connecting them all. With Jon, there's a lacking in that common thread. Especially since it was Tim who saved everyone from the unknowing. Plus, what makes Jon easy, is the fact that they can trace even just the littlest something involved with him. The point is, when Elias was there, everyone had something they could tie reeeally directly to their issues. But now thats he’s not. Jons the next closest thing. And many aspects about who he is as a person makes it ever so easier to put blame on him. Not only is he non confrontational and self blaming, so he doesn't have it in him to be a danger to anyone who may confront him. But, with the rapid deterioration of his mental state, he's been making bad decisions. He's been unintentionally hurting a few innocent people. And those two things combined are just enough to make him the perfect replacement outlet. Because god with everything they're going through they need something. Because, all in all, it's nobody's fault. And that is the hardest fact for anyone in their situation to accept. Because blame is easy. Blame is simple and blame lets you cast all your misfortunes onto one person without having to take painful responsibility for them. And right now? Fate is the one at fault. Everything is being subtly influenced by the web in a way that simply makes it so fate was the sole decider all along. The end was decided from the beginning. Nothing could have helped that fact. Everybody wound up in their positions because fate deemed them unlucky souls and no matter what they hoped or dreamed or wished to do there was nothing that could have been done because every single one of them was just a plaything for destiny to reel at. And that is the absolute most excruciating thing to accept in their circumstance. Because none of them can handle what they've gone through. And to accept that there's absolutely nothing that ever could have been done about it is. Devastating. Because why should Jon have been born to suffer, why should Melanie have had to live a life built off a burning stick tower of shaky rage, why should Daisy have had to live the life of a desperate predator that she can barely redeem herself for, why should Basira have to dedicate her life to something that-

has only ever backfired on her, and went through so much trauma because of. Every single one of them is at the absolute worst possible spot they could be at for one reason or another (except possibly Daisy), so what other option do they have besides creating blame when the alternative is accepting it was hopeless all along. They're all desperate. Now, to further explain my next point i'm going to bring in some historical context for the term "scapegoat. Based in the Bible, a scapegoat is one of two baby goats; the other is sacrificed, while the other is sent into the desert, carrying all of the sins and impurities with it. The idea is initially mentioned in the Book of Leviticus, where a goat is assigned to be sent into the desert in order to  carry away the sins of the community. Historically, this can be seen in many concepts. All of which are corrupt, and yet simultaneously used as one massive coping mechanism for the ways things are. The term though, interestingly (and ironically seeing a trend in historical scapegoats) enough, is rooted in ancient Judaism. Once a year, during Yom Kippur, Cohen Gadol sacrificed a bull as a sin offering to atone for all the sins he had inadvertently committed during the year. Then he took two goats and brought them to the door of the tent. Two goats were chosen by lot: one offered as a blood sacrifice, and the other as a scapegoat to be sent into the desert and pushed down a steep chasm where he died. The blood of the slain goat was taken behind the curtain into the Holy of Holies and sprinkled on the closing plate, the lid of the ark of the covenant. Later, the high priest confessed the intentional sins of the Israelites to God and figuratively placed them on the head of another goat, the scapegoat Azazel, who would symbolically "take them away". Now this is a very important analysis of a "scapegoat" because of how it narratively fits into the magnus archives you'll notice, that in the more ancient torah based description, it's abundantly clear that rather than simply an instrument for atonement, the goat is a sacrifice. The sins of the world were all placed on a rather innocent creature, and due to this, it met its untimely demise for reasons none other than fate. I like this specification, because I think it shows a really important context for the situation Jon is is. He isn't just being blamed for other people's problems, he's being utterly destroyed by them. Jons mental deterioration throughout the season has been nothing but noticeable in every way possible. And really? It's mostly due to that. He has an i n s a n e amount of survivors guilt at this point as pointed out by Daisy in Scrutiny, "And of course, for John, there’s survivor’s guilt in there, too. He thinks he’s not human. Makes him very… self-destructive.". So to have such an immense amount of guilt, and then have all the people around you, who you strive to have some sort of trust with, place all this blame on you, is detrimental. Not only is it a punishment perfectly tailored to match what Jons weakest point is, but it's also one that puts him in a cycle of agony that makes the entire situation worse. A sacrifice. It sends him into a vicious cycle of [ deteriorating due to being blamed -> not being able to sustain the pressure and agony of it and needing more statements -> taking more statements -> scapegoated for taking statements -> deteriorating due to being blamed ]. He's caught between a rock and a hard place with the situation because the ways the assistants are coping with their situation is directly contributing to exactly what they get on him for. They see him as a monster for doing what he does, and continue to deliberately try and make him feel worse, which only makes him need to do more of what they hate him for and no on and so forth. It's a vicious cycle full of unhealthy coping that none of them know how to withstand.

So, now that we have down the motives for scapegoating Jon and where Jon stands in the situation and what narrative role he's playing, we can now move on to the scene itself and the fundamentals of each character's stance in it. 

Coping: and how it interferes with regression of development. 

Firstly, I'm going to be starting with Daisy and there's a chance it's because she's my favorite and there's a chance it's because her stance is the most interesting. I lied, it's because she's my favorite! But either way, Daisy in this scene is the most conflicted character, and for extremely good reason. You'll notice that in her speech, she's almost desperately trying not to take sides, because she's the most aware of all the characters. She's undergone the most development and because of it is able to understand perspectives to a point where taking one is just something that's too difficult for her. After escaping the grasp of the Hunt, she's dedicated herself to atonement. Daisy has done terrible, inexcusable things in the past in order to feed the hunt. And since escaping it has done every single thing in her power to make up for it, no matter how hard. But the thing is. She's just as affected as all of them. And that's what makes her actions in this scene so interesting to look at. Because she can. not. blame Jon. She was Jon not too long ago she sees herself in him to a point where its painful. Because she too was caught in a place where she had to do things she knew were wrong simply to satisfy the desire of the hunt. She knows just how hard it is she knows the agony that Jon’s having to go through so she can't stand to see Basira and Melanie acting like he has full control. And yet at the same time, she can't bring herself to go against Basira. Because just as much as she knows where Jon is, she was on the police force with Basira. And cant help but see the justice side of the argument. She can't help but see how her circumstances differ from Ions in a way that Basira points out. So as much as she can see herself in where Jon is, she's incapable of not also being able to understand the points being made by the rest and where they are coming from due to how she knows that the logic for herself cant be applied to Jon. Since Jon knows what he's doing and she didn't. Since Jon hasn't been able to resist but she has. And a part about that fact is that it's Basira making it. She also still has a loyalty to Basira that makes it. Very, very difficult to fully go against her. So she becomes caught in a place where taking full, distinct sides, becomes a difficult endeavor. In the interaction, she's never the one making the points against Jon, but she's also not the one ever advocating for him. She makes a single comment about how Jons situation was similar to hers to try and reason was Basira slightly, but shut up about it after a few vague comments once she saw how driven Basira was in her convictions. BASIRA - You’re a danger, John. A monster. You’re hurting innocent people. ARCHIVIST - So did Daisy. BASIRA - Shut up. It’s not the same thing at all. DAISY - Basira. He has a point. BASIRA - You didn’t know what you were doing. [DAISY MAKES A PAINED SOUND, AS IF TO CONTRADICT HER, BUT STOPS.]. In this interaction especially, you can see just how tied she is between her understanding of both sides. She knows what Jons going through, but she also knows the differences in their circumstances, and it's not something she has solid ground to argue for. Now, bringing the regression topic in, I'll talk about how playing into this coping regresses her development as a character. Daisys current arc, and the one she's been having, is about fighting against her own monster hood. It's about resisting herself. About recognizing what she's done and atonement for it. It's about trying rather than succeeding. It's about fighting against your nature for what you know is right. So when upon seeing someone whos in as pained and monstrous a condition as she was, she cant bring-

herself to fight for them due to inconsistencies with what she believes, she regresses back to the person she was. The one who let their own morals get in the way of what was right. The one who allowed people to get hurt simply because it was "for the greater good." The way that regression is highlighted for her in this scene is how a blinding sense of morals and justice becomes too bright for her to act on the right thing. Even when staring at a pitiful version of the person she used to be. Character regression here works in the way where when tasked with empathy and understanding, she instead prioritized her own personal way of seeing things. 

Second, and much more simple of a spectacle to observe: Ms Melanie King. Melanie is a lot simpler to talk about, and mostly since her motives and ways of thinking are very direct and straightforward. Melanie is a character plagued by anger. She drew an unlucky hand in life, and the only way she was able to rise up to become a person she could be proud of was through fighting her way there tooth and nail, scratching and kicking and biting. So when everything comes crashing down on her. When everything she fought with her life for is suddenly destroyed, she can not blame herself. Because if she admits to herself that it was simply fate's fault that her career collapsed and that it was her fault that she joined the institute in the first place, then it means that everything will have been for nothing. And that her absolute rock bottom in life was all and only because of her. That. is NOT something she can face. And the rage that was once used to build her up in life, is redirected towards the ones who she sees fit to blame. First it was Elias. He hired her, he's the one commanding under the name of the eye, he's the one whose fault it is, and he's the one who she's going to take her rage out on. And so she did. And then Elias was gone. And her rage was taken over by the slaughter. In the time Jon was in a coma her anger festered, it grew, it empowered her and became more a part of her than ever. So once Jon was back, she had an outlet again. And boy did it make it ever so easy for her, though all through good intentioned. Jons surprise little surgery to help release her from the slaughter, the fact that it was her statement she made to him that got her involved with the institute at first, the fact that he's becoming less and less human. So many things about what Jon was doing and had done made it horrifyingly easy for her to place her rage on him. And so, all her anger was redirected towards the archivist that ruined her life. I think at this point it's also worth mentioning Melanie's pride and how it plays into her as a character. She's undergone a l o t of character change. But aside from her frustration the one thing that's stayed stagnant about her as a person is her pride. She took great pride in where she managed to get herself in life back when Ghost Hunt UK was up and her life was at its peak. It was her pride and joy and it's what boosted her ego so high because it's something she did for herself with her own bare hands. So when that collapsed, one of the massive reasons that she needed to blame someone so bad was due to the fact that if she admitted that it was her fault, then all that pride would have collapsed with the rest of her life. Navigating blame away from herself and avoiding acceptance is her way of preserving her ego, which is the only thing she really has left after all she's undergone. And due to this ego, it's also what makes her the most stubborn and fierce during this scene. And so, so willing to go against Jon at any and all costs. But tracing back to this pride of hers, I think it's an aspect that's actually quite a lot during the intervention. The moment Jon refers to her as being a character in an explanation of his she immediately assumes he's trying to blame her for it all. [ ARCHIVIST - The second was… it was after I got stabbed by Melanie. MELANIE - You are not putting this on me ]. She does this again, but this time when Jons agrees with her, this being a blow to her ego that someone like him could even think to agree with an idea of hers. [ ARCHIVIST - She does have a point. MELANIE - I did NOT ask you.] So now that motives and reasoning are out of the way, it's time to explain how regression is doing its work on Melanie here. Melanie's key point in her development as a character is. actually almost hilariously obvious to a point where she's actually seen as reasonable for a split second of her life. She got therapy. 

An honestly hilariously smart solution to the arising problems but. It was impressive for Melanie. Because her getting help after never once leaning on anyone around her was a massive step for her. It was a release of her pride, a recognition of her needing help from someone, of realizing she wasn't ok, and going out and getting it. Which god is more than can be said for most characters but essentially what therapy meant for her character development, was that she was finally taking a step to acknowledge her irrational anger and work to fix it. What happened in this scene for her, was a messy entanglement with the automatic unleashing of anger that she's always been so accustomed to, and the fact that she just took a massive step to stop that habit of hers. Regression is present here in the way that here, it's that automatic unleashment that ends up dominating, and becomes what overtakes her in this scene. The person she's been trying too hard to become fades away, and she moves back into the bitter, angry, spiteful person she was at the beginning of season four, still infected with the slaughter.

Basira is. undoubtedly the most complicated one. Daisys motives are the most contradicting, but Basira is the most dominant figure in what's happening, making her actions the most intense, and controversial. Basira is. complicated. She's extremely justice oriented and will do just about anything if it's for the wellbeing of the innocent and good of the world. She doesn't have the same "maul and kill the bad protect the good '' philosophy as Daisy, and is much less violent, but nonetheless lets her judgment of if people are good or not define her actions. And this goes for just about everything she has an opinion on, even changing what she thinks drastically if someone's morals shift. The only exception to this rule is Daisy, who seems to always have some affection towards whether what she's doing is good or not. The only time she's ever intervened with Daisy's immoral behavior is when she was going to kill Jon, who was someone Basira saw as moral. This type of mindset of hers got to the point where she completely turned on the police force the moment she recognized it as corrupt without even a second thought or dilemna about what she had sacrificed years upon years of work for. Unlike Daisy, who's developed to be able to see in shades of gray, Basira is still stuck at a point of black and white thinking. Deeming people as either "good" or a "monster." However over time, what went from just a mindset, became an utter and absolute crutch for her. She kept having to save herself from more and more situations. Rayners incident where she had to save herself from the chaos of the situation to when she had to rely entirely on her own head and wits to survive the unknowing, Basira slowly yet surely gets to a point where she can only trust to rely on herself, and her logic. After being through hell and back in Section 31 and then the institute she longs for stability, and gets this by having a rock solid state of mind that develops into the one and only thing she can depend on This gets especially reinforced in season four, when she's forced to take a leadership position. After the unknowing, her one, true last anchor besides herself disappears. Daisy was the one thing she could always count on, the one thing that was always there as an undeniable constant no matter what. But after Daisy was gone, she was left truly alone. So with Jon gone, Elias in prisoned, Martin out on his own agenda, and everyone else besides Melanie dead, she's forced to take leadership of the operation that is the archives. This in itself makes her extremely self sufficient. Becoming more and more self reliant and she increasingly loses anchors. This is likely around the time that she started really looking up to Gertrude, someone who all by herself did an unbelievable amount of justice for the world no matter what it took, or who had to be sacrificed to do it. Gertrudes self sufficiency, her effort, her efficiency, her image, everything Gertrude was, Basira strived to be. She's entirely independent, researching her own things and going all around the country without telling anyone about what she's doing. Leading all the operations such as the stopping of the dark ritual and now, going to investigate hilltop roads. She's undeniably retreated into herself, and no longer is used to being anything but autonomous. Because relying on herself for everything is how she copes. She turns herself into a pillar of stability which she must never leave, terrified that she would otherwise collapse. However despite seeming logical, she also greatly uses Jon as just as much of a scapegoat as Melanie, albeit more subconsciously. The problem that arises with Basira a bit more, is bias. Bias towards what's helpful to her personally, bias towards stability, and a strong bias against things that both destable her, and don't fit her view of justice. 

I'm going to have to try and word this simply because Basira is a little complicated, but essentially, her black and white view of the world mixes with her biases very badly. Being either extremely tolerant, or extremely intolerant. Due to her self sufficient development, she has automatic favor towards anyones who's useful to her. Aka: Melanie. During the flesh attack, Melanie saved her life. Melanie got Helen as an ally. Melanie helped her research and upkeep of the archives when nobody else was around. And otherwise, has stayed out of her way. Due to Melanie having been useful to her, she sees Melanie as a person on her "good" list. And is willing to excuse Melanie's emotional outbursts, and justifies them. She also has automatic favor towards people who provide her stability: Daisy. Daisy has had her back for likely at least a decade. She's always worked together with her, always helped her, always provided a sense of stability for her to rely on, and was a powerful unstoppable force that Basira found comfort in depending on. Daisy was also someone Basira became extremely trauma bound with, enforcing the fact that Daisy would constantly be relied upon. Because of this, Basira looked past her immoral behavior on the police force. Daisy also earned a spot on her "good" list. However, Jon has ever provided for her in a way where she can have this favor towards him, and if anything goes against the exact things that she values Melanie and Daisy for. Unlike Melanie, Jon has never helped her or been of use to her. He's never saved her, never gotten her in the nick of time, never assisted her in something great, and overall has really never been a person that has been of good use to her. Unlike Basira, he's extremely unreliable. He's messy, jumps into action without thinking, he's self sacrificial in the stupid way, always gets himself into danger, is sloppy with plans, puts himself and others in danger, and is the last person you can rely on as a sturdy boulder. So not only does Jon not possess the qualities she tends to favor people over, but similarly to Melanie she associates him with being put in danger due to him being unhelpful at some of the most dangerous places shes ever found herself in, including the unknowing, the stopping of the "dark ritual". And most other scenarios where she's been put in danger, and needs someone to assist her. That being said, this means that she's not willing to look past anything he does due to lacking in the favor that people like Melanie and Daisy have. This especially works in the opposite of Jons favor when the things that he happens to be making mistakes on, is exactly what Basira values. Justice of the innocent. So when you combine ALL these factors. 

Combine her need to be bold, black and white, stubborn and unmoving at all costs [ BASIRA - How many. ARCHIVIST - Basira…BASIRA - How. many. ] [ BASIRA Enough. ]. [ BASIRA -Then we go. Now. Unless, anyone has any objections. ] 

With her newfound need to be independent, autonomous, self sufficient, self reliant at all costs [ BASIRA - No. if he is being controlled, we need to know. And we need to know now. Tell me where she is. ] [ BASIRA - Fine, I’ll go, then. I’ll do some recon on my own, and update you. ]

And finally, her biases towards those she favors mixing with her strong sense of justice [ BASIRA - Why do you think? Because he was ashamed. ] [ BASIRA - You’re a danger, John. A monster. You’re hurting innocent people. ARCHIVIST - So did Daisy. BASIRA -  SHUT UP. It’s not the same thing at all. DAISY - Basira. He has a point. You didn’t know what you were doing. BASIRA -And since you did, you’ve spent every waking hour resisting. He knows exactly what he’s doing. ] [BASIRA-  You don’t get a vote. ]

Now that I've discussed the individual characters and their stances and motives, I want to give my personal review of this scene and it's mostly just. My goodness. Jonathan Sims is scarily good at writing characters. I feel like a lot of writers often don’t go into the messy details of what trauma does to you as a person. A lot of the time characters will go into scarring events and come out only slightly affected. But what's really done so, so well, is the realism put into the coping styles and reactions of each character. They don't react to their trauma in pretty, romanticized ways. Melanie especially depicts this. She has rage outbursts that have ruined her almost all her relationships, she becomes violent out of fear, she reacts irrationally due to defense mechanisms, shes messy and shes vengeful and shes angry and the ways in which she acts in order to protect herself whether its stabbing Jon and other violent outbursts, or a general inability to communicate without thinking the other person has bold intentions to hurt her. She screams at Jon, blames him for all her problems despite him being responsible for dead zero of them, and turns fearful and livid at the sight of him. She's traumatized and it's not depicted in a way that's supposed to get the point across while still preserving love for the character. They aren't afraid to make characters genuinely unlikeable for the sake of realism and it's represented s o well. And she isn't the only character who does this when faced with trauma. Tim becomes bitter towards everyone around him and vents his rage on anyone who comes too close. Martin becomes hateful, spiteful, and self isolating. Basira takes complete domination in order to be in control of situations, and becomes accusatory, cold, selfish, unfair. I could go on and on but there isn't a single characters whose reactions art brutally honest to what anyone would say or do. they are unpleasant and messy and excruciating but they're human, they are unapologetically human. heres a perspective that wasn't so easy to see coming, but it actually fairly crucial to this entire scene and what exactly it means. Martin. Martin was the one took the tape of the bystanders interaction with jon, and left it out for the others to see. A silent instruction to intervene. Which. Dear god shows a lot about who he is as a character and just why the lonely is benefitting so much from him. Martin cares about Jon. It's undeniable. Daisy and Basira and Jon and Martin have always worked quite well as foils because as Daisy is Basira source of stability despite Daisy being rather uninvolved, Jon is Martins source of stability, despite Martin purposefully not involving himself. We already know that one of the main reasons Martin is working with Lukas in the first place, was a promise that doing what he's doing is protecting Jon. Everything from his self isolation to his purposeful self sabotage with his peers to every ounce of work he's doing..is really just all for Jon and the promise of his safety. However, despite his care he refuses to get involved. He digs himself in such a deep self sabotage hole that he refuses to even try and do what Jon really needs from him due to being so deep into what he's doing that he can't really turn back. He's so incredibly focused in on his own agenda, that he ends up endangering what he says he values. He's so uninvolved with the happening of things that he sent a tape containing an example of jon acting “evilly”, to the exact people that push him to do so and without considering the danger that may put him in with his coworkers.Martins perspective on this isn't really something you can tell? So it's hard to guess if i did that knowing what would happen and thinking that would be for the best, or did it thinking things would end differently, not realizing what he was doing. is really just all for Jon and the promise of his safety. However, despite his care he refuses to get involved. 

He digs himself in such a deep self sabotage hole that he refuses to even try and do what Jon really needs from him due to being so deep into what he's doing that he can't really turn back. He's so incredibly focused in on his own agenda, that he ends up endangering what he says he values. He's so uninvolved with the happening of things that he sent a tape containing an example of Jon acting “evilly”, to the exact people that push him to do so and without considering the danger that may put him in with his coworkers. Martin's perspective on this isn't really something you can tell? So it's hard to guess if i did that knowing what would happen and thinking that would be for the best, or did it thinking things would end differently, not realizing what he was doing. Either way, it's very interesting to see just how dedicated Martin is to Peter Lukas’s plans to a point where even the main motivation to what he's doing in the first place becomes something he avoids at every single cost he can, even when attempting to better things. Of course there's a lot about Martin I could talk about, but it wouldn't be relevant to this episode. Instead it's just interesting to focus on the action Martin takes, the inaction he takes, and just why he does these things. 

Martins. certainly an interesting one right now. I keep trying to decipher his motives by leaving the tape out but it's honestly near impossible to fully know what he was counting on happening or not.

Now when you think about this scene in the context of psychologist "Leon Festinger's" cognitive dissonance, it gets even more interesting. For starting context, cognitive dissonance is when ones belief differs from physical evidence at hand. You may have heard of musical dissonance, when two notes in different keys are played in a rather jarring timeframe, made to make the listeners uncomfortable or shudder. Cognitive Dissonance is just this. When someone's belief doesn't line up with the evidence at hand, it creates a jarring discomfort quite similar. An example used by Festinger (1957) may assist in elucidating the theory. A habitual smoker who learns that smoking is bad for health will experience dissonance because the knowledge that smoking is bad for health is dissonant with the cognition that he continues to smoke. He can reduce the dissonance by changing his behavior, that is, he could stop smoking, which would be consonant with the cognition that smoking is bad for health. Alternatively, the smoker could reduce dissonance by changing his cognition about the effect of smoking on health and believe that smoking does not have a harmful effect on health (eliminating the dissonant cognition). He might look for positive effects of smoking and believe that smoking reduces tension and keeps him from gaining weight (adding consonant cognitions). Or he might believe that the risk to health from smoking is negligible compared with the danger of automobile accidents (reducing the importance of the dissonant cognition). In addition, he might consider the enjoyment he gets from smoking to be a very important part of his life (increasing the importance of consonant cognitions). Cognitive dissonance is seen here, particularly in Basira, very starkly. Basira and Melanie believe Jon is a monster. An inhuman thing that's instinct is to only harm others. She views him as this broken twisted thing that needs to be handled and managed so he doesn't destroy the people around him. However, at the same time she's still wholly devoted to Daisy. She holds no blame towards her, and excuses her every action due to her repressed feelings for her and the loyalty she feels towards her, despite Daisy having done far, far worse than Jon. but despite the hypocrisy, they make her feel safe. They give her stability. Because this way, she has a clear opposing force (Jon), and a clear allied force (Daisy and Melanie) and having that gives her the groundedness she longs for. However, cognitive dissonance comes into play. very quickly with this. For example: the evidence of Jon trying to be better. The fact that Jon does everything in his power to help others, the fact that Jon continuously resists using his power if he can't help it, the fact that Jon has a kind heart, the fact that Jon has worked tirelessly for others, the fact that Jons intentions are never once bad.

Basira sees this. Basira sees every. Little bit of this. But she denies. She feels that uncomfortable dissonance between what she believes about Jon and about what's in front of her eyes. So in order to close this gap between belief and evidence, she makes excuses. She convinces herself that Jon is barely trying and that things would be fully better if he actually cared, she convinces herself that Jon is against her and is being manipulative, she convinces herself that he's deliberately doing what he is. All these beliefs that convinces herself of help close that uncomfortable gap between her belief and logic, making that dissonance go away. As Lauren Slater said in her book on Leons Psychology "Opening Skinner's Box": “dissonance is really not about looking at how people change. The theory just didn’t concern itself with that.” Which describes her feelings towards Jon, really quite well. Its doubt of progress. Doubt of character. Doubt of the human ability to change and grow and live. Someone else along with this happens with her relationship with Daisy. 

Now for this part if we are to take a look at some more excerpts from Lauren Slater's "Opening Skinner's box:” "Did Festinger ever consider how our justifications are to save not only ourselves, but others too? Did he ever consider how lies and love are intertwined?” This part relates. Incredibly directly to Daisy. Basiras Justification of Daisy's past actions, every single time she says "It's not the same" when talked about Jon and Daisys inhumanness, it's out of pure love. She doesn't want to admit to herself that Daisy may be as in the wrong as she is, but she also doesn't want to admit it to Daisy. She cares about Daisy deeply and doesn't want her to have to face that pain of truly seeing what she's done. She lies to herself out of protection of Daisy, and out of preserving her morals. Because Basira wants to be a good person. She needs to be a good person she needs to stand for the name of justice as a totem, as a symbol. She can't do that if she stood by someone and let them murder countless people, and excuse it, and love that person deeply, and continue to. So she lies to herself. She tries to close the gap in dissonance by justifying Daisy's actions, because god she just needs to. Now, for how Melanie comes into this. It goes without saying that Melanie pretty much also can be directly applied to all of Basiras cognitive dissonance, except for some details. She experiences the same cognitive dissonance as Basira just in an angrier way, with different motives. And it's exactly this that makes the dissonance with Basira and Melanie worse.

“We spend our lives paying attention only to information that is consonant with our beliefs, we surround ourselves with people who will support our beliefs, and we ignore contradictory information that might cause us to question what we have built.” "Soothing can come only if more and more people sign onto the spaceship, so to speak, because if we are all flying this thing together, then surely we must be right.” Companionship. Because if someone believes the same thing as you you cant be crazy. If someone sees what you see then it affirms you, makes you feel like you must be right since you aren't the only one who thinks this. That's what happens with Basira and Melanie. They both experience with dissonance, and find companionship in it. They think. "Oh, well I'm not alone in this belief, so I doubt it's wrong." Their beliefs are affirmed, and they strengthen due to this. There's no room to doubt yourself when everyones telling you youre right. Another variable when it comes to companionship, is just how much both of them long for it. Melanie and Basira are in such lonesome, excruciating places in their lives. meaning that the companionship that comes with this common dissonance is strengthened simply by the fact that they both long for allies and for support. “The psychological opposition of irreconcilable ideas (cognitions) held simultaneously by one individual, created a motivating force that would lead, under proper conditions, to the adjustment of one’s belief to fit one’s behavior—instead of changing one’s behavior to fit one’s belief (the sequence conventionally assumed).”

[silverynight]

Underworld

<---Previous

Part XV

Izuku is nervous, there are many gods he's never seen before and he's not sure they'll be happy to see someone like him in the Olympus.

Noticing his distress, Aizawa puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles at him. It helps him relax until he notices a lot of them are looking in their direction.

"Trust me, they're just staring at the flower crown upon my head," the god of strategy sighs, like he's tired of it already.

"If you want I can–"

"No, I told you I'd wear it," Aizawa cuts him off. "The crown is pretty; they're just staring because I never wear things like this."

"Did you make them?" A goddess Aizawa introduces as Yaoyorozu approaches Izuku with a mortal girl behind her; the girl looks shy.

"Y-Yes," Izuku nods, realizing that the goddess is smiling at him.

"Great! Can you make one for me and my girlfriend?"

"Sure!" The green haired demigod perks up, feeling a lot better already. The mortal girl's name is Jiro and even though she's shy, Izuku realizes that she's a very good person.

Izuku doesn't notice Aizawa's absence until he's done with both flower crowns, but when he does he's starts getting a little bit concerned at least until a pair of muscled arms lift him from the ground with ease.

"Young Midoriya! I'm glad you decided to attend!"

It's difficult to believe that All Might himself wants him around.

"Thanks for inviting me!" He chuckles, feeling himself relax almost completely.

"I saw that you were making this flower crowns for my guests and I want one too, young man!"

Izuku nods happily and with a little bit of amusement as All Might has to kneel on the ground for Izuku to place a flower crown upon his head.

"You should let him spend time with younger gods," Aizawa comments, startling Izuku a bit when he appears with a glass of wine in his hand.

"Are you calling me old, Shota?" All Might laughs amusedly; it's one of those laughs that sound like thunder, but in a good way. He puts a heavy arm around Aizawa's shoulder while the other god rolls his eyes. "You're right, he should make friends."

Izuku is about to say that he's more than happy to spend time with the two of them, when a god with dark clothes and a shadow following him around approaches him and introduces himself as Tokoyami Fumikage.

Izuku likes him and his shadow too; they're very friendly towards him. Jiro and Yaoyorozu join them a little bit afterwards and finally Izuku has the opportunity to talk to someone who can understand him.

"It was difficult at first," Jiro admits, looking around shyly. "Being the only mortal here is a little bit intimidating, but most of Momo's friends have always made me feel welcome. I think you'll be fine."

Izuku nods and can't help but notice that even though Yaoyorozu is distracted talking with Tokoyami about something else, she takes Jiro's hand in hers and intertwines their fingers together.

"Besides, it's fine because Momo is always here for me," she says, cheeks turning slightly pink at her own words.

"I'm glad you have someone who loves you that much," Izuku mumbles sincerely, feeling happy for her.

"What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to worry; they're good gods," Jiro whispers next to him and then, after a little bit of hesitation, she adds: "Of course, there are exceptions, but you shouldn't think too much about them."

Izuku can't help but worry nonetheless, but gets easily distracted by the sound of a voice he had missed a lot.

"Izuku!"

Despite everything that happened, he turns around with a huge smile on his face as soon as he sees Bakugo.

"Kacchan!"

Izuku is not entirely sure who approached whom, but now they're right in front of each other; Bakugo's initial soft smile disappears in that moment before he looks at the ground.

"I'm truly sorry for what I did to you, Izuku."

It breaks the demigod's heart to see his friend like that; he looks absolutely devastated, like he's in pain.

"You already apologized for–"

"It's not... it wasn't enough," Bakugo cuts him off, shaking his head. "I took you from your Mom... None of you deserved that. And listen, it's okay if you don't want to see me again, I understand; I'll leave if you want me to so you can enjoy the party, but I needed to see you to apologize properly, Izuku."

To Izuku it's been way too long without seeing him; he's missed him a lot and has had time to think about what happened.

He smiles and when he realizes Bakugo can't see him, he cradles the god's face in his hands to make him look up at him.

"I've already forgiven you, Kacchan." He mumbles sincerely before pulling him down because Bakugo is so tall, finally pressing their foreheads together.

"I don't think I deser–"

"Do you want to dance, Kacchan?" Izuku cuts him off before the blond can start feeling terrible about what happened again. The music is already filling the room and the green haired demigod can see everyone dancing around them.

"Yes."

"I'm keeping my eyes on you," Aizawa warns Bakugo, glaring at him and startling both Izuku and the god of the dead in the process.

"I understand," Bakugo nods, looking from him to Izuku. And then, after a couple of seconds he adds, with a smirk: "Is that a flower crown, sensei?"

"None of your business!" Aizawa huffs, prompting Izuku to giggle. "Besides, I told you not to call me that, I'm not your sensei anymore."

"Oh! Do you want a flower crown, Kacchan? I can make you one too!" Izuku says happily, although he isn't sure why Aizawa looks amused out of the sudden.

"I'm not sure it fits my style..." Bakugo stops when he watches Izuku nod.

"Okay, I understand!" He smiles, trying not to look too disappointed.

"I changed my mind," he mumbles after a second. "You can make me as many flower crowns as you want, you little flower nerd!"

Izuku giggles, noticing that his heart feels warm and fuzzy again; it's been a long time since he felt something like that. He had missed that feeling a lot.

He makes a special crown for Bakugo, with orange flowers that look really good on him, considering he's constantly wearing black clothes.

"There!" Izuku takes Bakugo's hand when he's done, pulling him towards the dance floor. "Now let's go!"

Bakugo is blushing, but Izuku doesn't think too much about it, especially after he feels the god's hands on his waist.

"I bet I look ridiculous," Bakugo comments, although he doesn't really look that upset. Izuku notices a glimmer of amusement in his red eyes. "I have a reputation! How am I going to look intimidating with flowers on my head?"

"Trust me, Kacchan, you still are intimidating!" Izuku assures him, noticing the frown upon his face. However, he can't stop himself from smiling.

"Then why are you laughing at me, flower nerd?" Bak-Katsuki says, trying to look irritated, but it seems Izuku's smile is contagious.

For some reason, Izuku can't see him as Bakugo anymore, not even in his head. They've been through a couple of things together. He's just... Katsuki now. But it's alright because Katsuki calls him by his first name anyway.

"I'm not laughing!" Izuku chuckles as Katsuki spins him before pulling him closer to his chest.

"You're such a terrible liar, Izuku," but the other god is grinning from ear to ear now. "Well, at least one of us looks good with flowers on their head. But... you have always looked beautiful anyway."

They both slow down and Izuku can't help but blush to the tip of his ears at the compliment. Suddenly, he's more aware of their proximity and his heart is beating incredibly fast now...

"Your flowers are blooming."

Blooming? Izuku blinks a couple of times. Why are the flowers upon his head blooming now? Are they reacting to his emotions?

"What is he doing here? He doesn't belong in here!"

Izuku is not sure if he's entirely grateful by Endeavor's interruption. But Katsuki is definitely not, considering the way he pushes Izuku behind himself while he growls at the other god.

"What do you mean he doesn't belong?" Aizawa bares his teeth at the Sun god, surprising Izuku with his reaction; he usually looks calm and collected, even in stressful situations.

"I invited him," All Might says firmly, almost like he's daring Endeavor to say something else while keeping a hand on Aizawa's shoulder. "He's always belonged here."

"He's not even a–"

"Shut up, old man," Todoroki snaps at his own father. He keeps glaring at Endeavor until his eyes meet Izuku's. However, his expression doesn't soften because he also notices the blond god in front of him. "What are you trying to do to Izuku, Bakugo? Let him go."

Everything turns into chaos right afterwards.

***

Next--->

Patreon

[dairy-farmer]

(You are absolutely spectacular, love all your stuff)

I feel like Bruce would quote literally be insane enough to find a concoction to permanently de-age the rest of the bats to young children, stage an accident, and convince Tim that in order for them all to be a “true” family, he needs to be their mother and Bruce’s wife. Or maybe it happens by actual accident on a mission and Bruce takes advantage.. Even better if eventually, a new little sibling was on the way .

👀👀👀👀👀!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim returns to the manor following a long mission and is greeted by the sight of a todder dick and cass, a baby jason who has only barely started to crawl, and damian who can't be more than a month or two old. all along with bruce who looks gray and haggard with an unshaved face and clear exhaustion painting him. bruce tells him about some dimension traveling magician that tore through gotham while he was away. that bruce had been scrambling to catch all the falling babies from falling off a roof to send out an alert. he tells tim about how the magic user had already flickered away and that the magic consultants they kept on retainer couldn't fix this, the magic was too archaic for one. for two it was done by an outerverser and the possible complications of trying to undo it were too high risk. and so, on the suggestion of three different consultants... the safest thing to do was to just...let them all grow up again. it was the only was to make sure they didn't suffer some horrible blowback from the magic in them which included mind wipes, changes at the cellular level, chronal element level time magic.

tim is thrown for a loop. devastated and horrified for his siblings because they've lost their friends, their lives, the things they went through. dick and jason will no longer have memories of their biological parents only of bruce. both cass and damian...have lost the traumatic childhoods that carved them into the people they were. and...tim tries to ignore how part of him believes that's not quite a bad thing.

he watches as cass loudly giggles at a barbie movie playing on tv and tim just stares at her from where he's carefully holding a fussy jason while she's being bounced on bruce's knee in a puffy tutu and hairclips galore.

dick is napping in a playpen on the floor between him and bruce while surrounded by blocks and soft toys that he joyfully chucks out before wearing himself out and nearly falling asleep while sitting up on his little diaper clad tush.

damian is upstairs in his nursery napping and awaiting another bottle feeding that bruce has a timer for to wake him up for. there's a baby monitor on the coffee table between them tuned so finely that tim can hear the slow and soft inhale and exhale of an infant. he knows that the moment damian makes the slightest cry he'll be up and racing up the steps with bruce close behind him.

tim has been helping for a few days now, helping relieve bruce of the various duties he has shouldered all by himself. alfred is still out of the country on his month long vacation he takes every year. it's a silent rule to never call and bother alfred during his recharge time and its only bad luck that all this happened while he was out of the manor. bruce had struggled those first few nights, tim knew that much. he'd seen the desperate searches on the batcomputer and the inquiries about how to change a diaper, how to hold a baby, how to rock a baby, what do babies eat, how to burp a baby. then the rapid purchases for diapers, clothing, bibs, binkies, and various other supplies that were delivered to the door of the manor within the hour.

batman has taken a temporary leave of absence from the justice league and tim is going to be sending a similar notice to the titans because the family needs them both more.

tim can see the exhaustion lining bruce's face but also the small bit of happiness every time he picks up one of the babies. tim has to admit that once the shock wore off, his siblings were all rather cute. they're small and chubby. dick is a darling child...when he's asleep. awake is when he's constantly toddling away and giggling with glee while he's chased. cass is deeply enthralled with the tv and the most well behaved so long as there's a movie or show on. jason is a lethargic baby. always sleepy and tired to the point that tim was concerned something was wrong because when jason wasn't asleep he was crying or clearly in great discomfort. bruce has an appointment for him with a discrete pediatrician in a few days (along with another for the other children) and so tim does his best to comfort him, holding, and kissing him until they can figure out how to make him feel better.

still. it's hard coming to terms with everything knowing that his siblings, as he knew them, were now no longer the people they'd grow to be. tim was scared, worried that they'd grow up and hate him or hate bruce because of what they did or didn't do.

bruce seems to think the same because he brings tim into his room after they've all been put to bed. he talks about how all of the kids need structure. they need parents. reliable parents who love and care for them and can give them what they need to grow up happy and healthy. bruce has been studying and he tells tim the statistics and the studies about the effects of growing up with a single parent. about the impact of different parental authority figures. about the effects of all the parenting styles.

they need stability, they need parents who will care for them, and bruce says he knows he's asking for a lot but he just needs to ask- can tim be there for them.

bruce can't do it alone. he knows he can't give them everything they need from a loving parent he's too...broken. but tim...tim can. he can fill the gaps- he can make sure the children never have anything to want for. bruce will take care of them all but he needs help....he needs tim.

bruce asking him to be the other parent...the be the....mother...it makes tim stop. makes him consider the needs of his siblings of his...children.

he knows bruce is right. tim knows he'll feel better if he's there to help bruce learn and to make sure all the mistakes he made while raising them aren't repeated again.

and...he sees the potential. the potential lives the children can lead. happier, better adjusted, more fulfilled, less timid, less scared of disappointing bruce. tim knows its a lot. becoming a parent is a huge sacrifice but...if it's him and bruce in it together....then there's nothing batman and robin can't do.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Do you think Rhaenyra would seek out Sickly!Brother to sire her children instead of Harwin in Daemon’s absence? I would see him absolutely refusing but like Alicent there’s a chance he’d never even know it happened. And no one could claim the boys are bastards because everyone would simply assume they take after their mother. I think it would devastate Alicent who did the exact same thing for all four of her children too. And all the kids would be fighting for his attention. Do you think Alicent would refuse to crown Aegon because she hates that Jace is Rhaenyra’s son but can’t stand the idea of hurting any part of her darling?

Tw: Yandere themes, incest, brief mention of taking advantage of someone sleeping, manipulation, and pregnancy

I could see Rhaenyra seeking out the Reader the night Daemon up and leaves her high and dry in the brothel and Sir Criston Cole refuses her when she tries to seduce him afterward. She’s left unfulfilled and in need (and probably at least a little bit drunk), knowing there’s one person who she can turn to. When Rhaenyra sneaks into her Sickly!Uncle!Reader’s room and sees him sleeping so peacefully, she almost can’t bring herself to do what she went there to do. But she knows that this will be her only chance and she desperately wants to ease the ache Daemon left her with. Besides, the Reader is fast asleep, probably due to something the Maesters gave to help him stay asleep, so he wouldn’t be any the wiser to what she was going to do.

The next day though Rhaenyra would be overcome with guilt after realizing what she did to her poor Sickly!Uncle. She knows it was a deplorable act that she committed and it ate her up inside that she had sunk so low to even do something like that in the first place but a part of her deep down also enjoyed it. She always adored her Sickly!Uncle and even had a bit of a crush on him when she was younger but that was it. At least she thought it was but maybe for all this time she held a carnal desire for the Reader that she didn’t even know of, or at the very least she tried not to acknowledge it. Maybe she just used the events from the night before to justify her taking what she always wanted from her other uncle. Or maybe she was just using the Reader as a replacement for Daemon. Either way she hated herself but she couldn’t deny that there was more to this than just getting a fleeting moment of sexual relief.

Rhaenyra knew that if the Reader ever found out about that night he would never be able to see her as his lovely little Nyra again. Even though she was the one who committed the deplorable act without his knowledge and or consent he would still blame himself for taking her maidenhead and wouldn’t be able to meet her due to his own guilt and disgust at himself. He may even go as far as to forbid her from seeing or being near him again for both their sakes, which she completely understood but that didn’t mean she wanted it to happen. If anything the mere thought of it made her chest ache. She didn’t want to lose her precious uncle because of something she was at fault for. She certainly would hold a resentment towards Daemon for putting her in this situation to begin with. If it weren’t for him then everything would be back to normal and she wouldn’t feel like a horrible conflicted mess.

Rhaenyra would vow to herself that that night was a one time thing and that it would never happen again. She would never speak a word of it or think about it ever again. That is until she finds herself standing in front of the Reader’s bedchamber door late in the night all over again. As much as she tried to pretend it never happened and to keep herself from thinking about it, Rhaenyra just couldn’t help herself. She got a taste of it and now she wanted more. She did feel sick to her stomach but her own pleasure was of more importance to her in that moment. And yet again she would do what she had done that other night before.

Rhaenyra would force herself to not seek the Reader out again after that. She didn’t want to use him like that, and especially without his knowledge or consent. She would be able to tide herself over for a time, being able to get through her royal tour while she’s looking for her betrothed and then when she marries Laenor, but after that she finds her longing getting the better of her. Sure, when she had married Laenor they had both agreed that they would take their own lovers and she had her eye on a few suitors but her mind always went back to her Sickly!Uncle. Maybe it was due to the deep connection they shared and the fact that her uncle made her feel something that none of her suitors had that led her to seeking him out again. Or maybe it was more out of saving face given that whoever she did take as a lover would be a dead give away that her future children were bastards. At least this way Rhaenyra could keep up tradition and having her children be nothing but blood of the dragon all the way. No matter the reason for her continuing to seek out the Reader, Rhaenyra would ensure that their children would grow to be healthy and happy, and she would promise the Reader in his unconscious state that she would bring their soon to be children to visit him and that she would never take them away from him.

Alicent would pick up on how much more often Rhaenyra had been visiting the Reader, spending so much time with him, especially once she’s fallen pregnant. At first, Alicent isn’t too suspicious but that doesn’t last too long, especially after the birth of Rhaenyra’s first child. It would immediately hit Alicent that Rhaenyra has done something to her darling, whether it was willing or not. Something happened between them and she wouldn’t rest until she knew everything. She would also be extremely hyper aware whenever Rhaenyra was around the Reader and would even have it to where Rhaenyra (or anyone else who wasn’t Alicent herself or her children) wouldn’t be allowed in the Reader’s company without supervision. She wouldn’t quite be able to ban Rhaenyra from the Reader altogether while Viserys was still alive given that she would seek her father out to get Alicent to allow her to see her uncle again. But Alicent would have to be there to oversee all of Rhaenyra and the Reader’s interactions together.

Eventually Alicent will put it together that Rhaenyra took advantage of her darling, similar to what she had done a number of times before. But Alicent would refuse to see her and Rhaenyra’s actions as being one in the same. Alicent did want she did out of love, meanwhile Rhaenyra did it out of her own depravity. And there would be a confrontation between the two, further driving the two apart and resulting in their rivalry intensifying. Their feud would run so much deeper now and the Reader was unknowingly stuck in the middle of it. Now the two women would only fight all the harder and dirtier to not only get the throne, or to have their respective child sit on said throne but also to have the Reader be solely theirs.

It wouldn’t matter if Rhaenyra’s children were the Reader’s, if anything that would only fuel Alicent all the more to keep Rhaenyra and her children from taking the throne (and the Reader) from her and her own children. Even if the Reader knows the truth of Rhaenyra’s children being his, Alicent wouldn’t let his input or his feelings stop her and the rest of the Greens from standing their ground and continuing to fight with everything they have. The way Alicent sees it is that the Reader already has children, her children, the children that she and her darling brought into this world together out of love and devotion. They are his heirs and the rightful heirs to the iron throne. She and their children are all the family her darling needs, so she’ll just force him to sit back and relax as she takes care of all the loose ends. But Rhaenyra isn’t quick to give up nor would she ever do so, especially not when the Reader has much more of a detrimental role in her and her children’s lives.