#but will refuse to tell them what the design is

[brookghaib-blog]

Silence between hearts ( preview )

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds x reader

Summary: After Project SENTRY fails, Robert Reynolds is declared dead and sealed in a glass coffin to be hidden by O.X.E. Y/N, a doctor who secretly fell in love with him, refuses to believe he’s gone—fighting to save what’s left of him while grief and denial consume her, the path to look for him would ruin her, but to what extreme.

Note: I’m testing ideas and I came up with one, I’m mostly posting this already for you guys feedback, the first chapter will take a few days to be posted, I am working on my dissertation, but you guys understand.

—

The glass was thicker than it needed to be. Reinforced, sealed with polymer layers, and bolted into an alloy cradle designed to survive a small war. But none of that mattered to Y/N. All she could see was him inside it.

Bob.

Still.

Cold.

Lying there like a man who’d simply fallen asleep with no promise of waking.

The O.X.E. lab—once bright, bustling, and full of scientific ambition—now reeked of sterilizer and silence. They were shutting everything down. His project had failed, they said. Too unstable. Too dangerous. Too powerful. And now—too dead.

“Project SENTRY has been terminated. Containment protocol 6X is in effect,” droned a voice over the speakers. The kind of voice that never wavered. Not for ethics. Not for grief. Not even for love.

Y/N stood frozen as technicians fastened the final clamps onto the glass coffin. Her coat, still stained with dried blood from trying to stabilize him, hung limp around her. Her hands trembled. Her face was pale. Her lips parted, as if to speak, but no sound came out.

Two security guards hovered behind her.

“Dr. L/N,” one of them said gently. “You need to let them take him.”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she stepped forward, eyes locked on the body within. Bob’s chest didn’t rise. His face was pale, serene—eerily calm for a man who had been made of light and rage. His golden hair framed a face that once radiated warmth, now drained of it entirely.

“No,” she whispered. Her voice cracked like splintered glass. “You don’t get to box him up. You don’t get to just erase him.”

“Doctor—”

“He’s not dead!” she snapped, finally spinning on the guards. Her voice echoed through the corridor, sharp and broken. “He’s not dead, he’s not—he’s not—”

But her knees buckled before her words could finish. She collapsed to the floor, her hands catching her barely an inch above the cold tile. Her breath came in shallow gasps, each one scraping her throat like rusted nails.

The guards hesitated, unsure whether to comfort her or restrain her.

Valentina didn’t.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she approached—always polished, always calculated. “This isn’t a romantic tragedy, Doctor,” she said, arms crossed. “This is containment. He was compromised. If you’d like to keep your clearance and your career, I suggest you walk away now.”

Y/N lifted her head slowly, tears streaking her face.

“I don’t care about clearance,” she hissed. “I cared about him.”

Valentina’s expression didn’t change. “Then you’re a liability.”

The moment stretched like wire pulled too tight.

And then, Valentina gave a cold nod.

“Seal it,” she ordered.

Technicians obeyed.

Y/N watched as a final hiss of hydraulic steam sealed the edges of the glass. The lighting inside dimmed, bathing Bob in a faint blue glow, like he was being buried beneath a glacier.

They strapped the coffin to a magnetic dolly, preparing to roll him out—out of the lab, out of history, out of her reach. Like he’d never existed. Like the nights they’d spent in quiet corners of the lab, whispering about the sky and everything he’d forgotten about being human, had never happened.

Like she hadn’t kissed his trembling hands after his first breakdown.

Like he hadn’t told her he was scared of the darkness inside him.

Like he hadn’t looked at her the night before the meltdown and said, “If I lose myself, don’t let them lock me away. Just tell me you loved me once. That it mattered.”

She scrambled up, stumbling toward the coffin, arms outstretched.

“Wait!” she cried.

The guards tried to intercept her, but she ducked around them, slamming her palms against the glass.

Her voice cracked as she spoke, forehead resting against the cold surface. “Bob. I’m here. I didn’t leave. I—I couldn’t save you, I’m sorry. But I remember you. Do you hear me? I remember everything. I do love you.”

No response.

She pressed her hand over his heart, her eyes tracing the shape of his closed eyelids, the curve of his lips. She could almost believe he was sleeping. Almost.

“Please,” she whispered, softer now. “Please come back. Just open your eyes. Just—just breathe. I’ll take the Void. I’ll take all of it. Just come back to me.”

Silence.

Valentina made a gesture. The guards pulled her away, gently but firmly.

“NO!” Y/N screamed, kicking and fighting. “You don’t get to take him! He’s not—he’s not a thing! He’s a person! He was mine!”

But Bob remained still, and the glass began to fog slightly with the temperature shift as the containment unit rolled toward the freight elevator.

Valentina didn’t look back.

And Y/N—struggling in the arms of men who didn’t know who Bob was, what he had become, what he meant—finally went limp.

Her voice, barely a breath now, rasped, “Please don’t leave me here without you…”

The elevator closed with a heavy clang.

Then he was gone.

[nyx-v1]

TWST boys at your funeral tw- meantians of death and funerals

[Heartslabyul],[Savanaclaw], [Octavinelle][Scarabia], [ Pomefiore]

Vil

As much as he want to be able to public display his emotions he can't, Vil is a public figure after all. So instead he spends all his greving e in the privacy of his room. This man would 100% get made fun of for crying online. 

He isn't involved much in the planning of your funeral. Rather then waste his energy on trying to make your funeral good, he looks for ways to better himself. Vil finds anything he calls faults that could have lead to your death and vows to fix them.  He spends a lot more time alone working on ways to improve himself.

Rook is the one who tells him to calm down and that he needs to give himself breathing room.

When you funeral does come Vil is dressed his best, and he makes sure that all the kids in his dorm attending are dressed perfectly.

Vil is mainly quite during the whole process, he does however deiced to give a small speech, as do most of the dorm leaders.

He spends time with Epel making he talk about how feels. He makes sure that Epel is  still taking care of himself. However, he's less strict on what he expects from Epel.

For the most part he carries on like normal.

Takes care of grim, but deep down he wants to leave grim to live in the outdoors.

Refuses to make any public comments on your passing, or on how it happened.

Some how one of the only sane people.

Has to keep rook from scaring people off, and from talking about how death is beautiful in it's own way.

Did not let anyone into the funeral who looked bad. (Messy hair, clothes, or even dirty shoes)

high key judged your outfit, but not in a bad way.

He cursed your body after the service. Mainly so you wouldn't be a victim of grave robbing, anyone who touched your body after that point will die.

He takes a few moths off acting, or working in general. Mainly because he wants to be there for his friends, and doesn't want to have to deal with questions from interviews about "the night raven incident"(despite all the hard work on crowley's end of hiding you, your death was 100% public)

Will carry around a photo of you in his wallet, it's a so tiny it's ridiculous. 

Is one wrong move from crowley away from contacting the press

Dressed up, Designer suit and tie, he did his hair nice too.

Made eples and rook match suits with him.

Bonus: What kind of flower they would leave you

hydrangeas- They're pretty, and the blues and purples match his color scheme. Vil also makes the rest of Pomefiore leave behind flowers that are blue, purple or white. Does the meaning matter? No, he just wanted the aesthetic. 

Rook

One of the first people to know what happened.

He's very almost apathetic to it, not in a negative way more like deep down he knew you wouldn't last long.

Writes a ton of poems dedicated to you, tried to read them but was told to shut up.(he didn't, until it got physical.)

Will tell your dead body that it looks pretty.

Is the only one who somehow is on crowleys side, he's just very understanding. 

He grieves by keeping the memory of the person alive. This man, won't stop bringing you up, even if it makes others sad. He just doesn't want everyone to move on and forget you.

He took some of your hair to carry around, in one of those victorian style locket things.

If you somehow have a ghost he'll track the ghost down.

During the funeral some of his comment creep others out, he's just trying to lighten the mood.

Very well dressed, even leaves the stupid hate at home(only if you hated the hate, if you liked it he's wearing it.)

Is he worse then floyd? No, for now.

If he could he would taxidermy you.

He dressed nice for the funeral, even trying to offset his hair cut, because you hated it(ugly bowl cut)

Will ask everyone how they're doing, and probably got into a physical fight after asking too many times.

Preformed a song for you, and a poem( got booed off the mic)

Bonus: What kind of flower they would leave you

Would get you your favorite flower, don't ask how he knows he just does. If the flower isn't one of the colors Vil approves of, he'll find a way to make it that color.

Epel

He's mad. Mad he couldn't be there for you. Mad that Crowley doesn't seem to care. Mad that he couldn't stop it.

After hearing about your death Epel is quite, and walks to his room for alone time. When he sees Crowley it's On site. He straight up punches crowley in the face. Why? It's because he mad about how crowley is going about this.

He's kind of afraid how Vil would react to this news but is really surprised when Vil dosen't yell at him, but what weirds him out is when Vil tires to comfort him, in fact Epel is so weird out by this that he finds any excuse to  leave Vil and hides in his room for days on end.

Epel wears a navy suit to your funral, one made by his grandmother, along with an apple blossom from his home town.

He's really nervous during your funeral. He's not sure why as he has been to them before. When he sees your body is remined of snow white.

May or may not have planted an apple tree by your grave sight.

Also fights crowley, with his fist not magic.

Oddly enough your death brings him closer to ace and duce.

Shit talks about crowly with ace and duece.

writes a whole love letter to you, then burns it.

Gave a small speech during your funeral

He gets extra close to deuce and ace after your death, they all bond 

Bonus: What kind of flower they would leave you

Apple blossom, he's sending a part of him with you, unaware  of the meaning.

[the-fiction-witch]

My Sweet Wife

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Princess Y/n Targaryen (Wife) Rating - 17 / 18 Word Count - 756

Y/n sat up in the bed in her nightgown, her back against the wooden headboard, her hair put up for the night, some needlework in her hands as she embroidered little red scales on the fabric. But she jumped slightly as she heard the loud opening of a door,

As her husband Daemon burst into the chamber slamming the door behind him and marching to their bed glaring at her,

“…Evening.” She answered not bothering to look up,

“Would you like to explain to me why a servant saw you sneaking out of the Red Keep?” He growled,

"I had a prior appointment." She answered,

“A prior appointment?” He scoffed in disbelief,

“And what sort of ‘prior appointment’ requires you to sneak out of the keep without telling me?”

"Shocking though it may be, darling. But I do have a life and world outside of your person and this family."

He raised an eyebrow, “You’re my wife,” he barked, “Your life and world is me! This house! This castle!” He yelled but he stopped himself running a hand through his silver blonde hair, “I demand to know where you went and who you met.”

"Why?"

“Because you’re my wife! and I have a right to know where you go and who you spend time with.”

Y/n finally met his eyes and slightly glared narrowing her eyes,

He crosses his arms, “I am worried for your safety. And I was worried.” He admitted,

"Very well," she shrugged, "I had a meeting with Miss Katlynn Stone."

He frowns, “And who is this Miss Katlynn Stone? Other than some bastard, and why haven’t I heard of her before?”

"She makes clothing down in the garment district,"

“She makes clothes?” He asked, “And why exactly did you need to meet with her in secret? Couldn’t you have summoned her here to the keep?”

"She makes clothing… The royal court would not… Approve of the princess seeking out."

He raises an eyebrow, “And why wouldn’t the royal court approve?” He takes another step closer to the bed his curiosity peaked, “What kind of clothing does she make?”

"Clothing typically designed for those down the street of silk."

He was utterly gobsmacked, “You… went shopping… for clothes from a pleasure house seamstress?”

"I would think you'd be thrilled. Your god cloaks have named you the prince of flea bottom and you do have such a love for the ladies on the street of silk. Would think two of your loves combining would be something you'd be drooling at my feet for."

“That’s different, and you know it.” He sighed, “Those women are… for my pleasure. You are my wife, you belong to me and me alone.”

"And who said such clothes would be for anyone beyond our bed chamber?"

“You would… wear them for me?” He asks, his tone now a bit more curious than angry.

"Why else do you think I commissioned them?"

A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he takes another step closer, his gaze roaming over appreciatively. “You have my attention now.”

“Figured I would,”

“Describe them to me then… these clothes you had made.”

"That's a surprise."

He growls, “You’re teasing me,” he smirked, “You come back from seeing this seamstress, and you refuse to tell me what you had her make for you.” He steps closer again, kneeling on the bed, “I want to know, my sweet wife. It would be cruel of you to deny me this.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, "Well, it's not finished yet. But I know it's to be made with tight sleeves down to my elbows, and a sheer red fabric, with black velvet trim. A skirt that shouldn't reach my knee and different ties so just my top half or my bottom half can be exposed one at at time,"

His eyes darken even more at the description, his breathing becoming more ragged. “That… sounds like it would be a very tempting garment,” he admitted, “How long until it is finished?”

"A few days I think…" She shrugged

He growls softly, impatient as always. As he moved to cup her cheek, “That is a long time to wait,” he muttered, “I suppose I’ll just have to enjoy you naked until then…” he smirked tossing her needlework and pulling her in for a kiss.

[pride-of-storm]

on the one hand 'i get to put up whatever shower curtain i want' is kind of a stupid hill to die on, but on the other hand i have acknowledged your claim on every other hill i could have picked, so fuckin acknowledge my claim on this one

[lotus-pear]

free will is drawing ur two favorite characters together and making them gay

[cordatumcape]

just like how freddric can use viridian's bow, i'd like to think he picked up the flute for chartreuse

[binglepringle]

I love Pinterest alignment charts, cause sometimes I find gems like this

[arolesbianism]

I trip and these spill out of my pockets

[icharchivist]

rattles the bars of my cage with righteous anger

[cinnabeat]

rememebred everyones kh3 outfits and now im annoyed again

[technikki]

it is absolutely caused by my love for the trope where a character becomes inseperable from a dead loved one's item but i think don should have been able to keep little bunny as a comfort item. its not about how feasible it would be for don to sneak into that room a second time n take it without isabella noticing its about how. well he simply deserved to have it i think

[mypartoftown]

once again how long is this gonna go on

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Sometimes I feel like us as the bat family fandom forget how starry eyed people get about Nightwing canonically.

Because with the exception of early era Tim most of the Batkids are like. lol that’s my loser older brother or some variation of yeah…he’s some guy I guess? He helps me with homework?

And Nightwing is the canonically a center of multiversal light.

When Heroes meet Nightwing they do the vigorous handshake and the “it’s an honor to meet you sir, I have heard so much about you oh my god”

There are so many character where they are literally shown giggling and kicking their feet whenever Nightwing talks to them.

Even the people who don’t have the celebrity level worship of him respect the hell out of him and call him as soon as they need help.

From raven to Starfire to Superman to Superboy to all or the flashes there is so much respect and awe given to this one dude.

And it is deserved

But imagine you are Damian Wayne and you’ve been working with what 90% of the people you’ve met (all bats) have been calling an embarrassment to your father’s legacy.

Your mother hates him and your Grandfather doesn’t feel that strongly about him.

The red hood calls him an embarrassment and a coward and he couldn’t even keep Red Robin from running away.

Your father tells him that he never should have been Batman

And you’ve worked with him and you know what you think everyone is full of shit about him and you and him the new Batman and Robin are the best no matter what anyone says.

And fuck it the fact he keeps going in a suit that everyone tells him he’s not good enough for is scratching something in your brain that you’re refusing to acknowledge because why would you feel that way? You are the circus freak have nothing in common (shut up)

And then you meet the justice league and all the extended teams.

And people are falling over themselves to listen to a word out of your brothers, your Batman’s mouth. They wait for a nod or headshake and dictate decades worth of planning on it.

Both Drake and Todd’s hero teams ask him for advice with or without their designated bats presence.

The man of steel asks for child rearing advice and wonder woman cracks a joke about a spar

Newer heroes whisper about him in the halls

He’s literally your favorite hero’s favorite hero

And it’s breaking Damian’s Brain

Because well… he kinda gets slapped around in Gotham. He’s the butt of half the jokes the other Batkids make and Dick just smiles and takes it.

The rogues have a bounty on nightwings ass and he gets leered at by goons, rogues, civilians and anti-hero’s alike and he doesn’t say anything.

He lets oracle crack jokes about a pretty face and having to do everything herself

Let’s Jason run the alley despite the fact that apparently he knows how to take it back

Apparently he’s had 12 people tailing Drake since Paris and despite being the man Ra’s Al Ghul calls detective has yet to notice. (Because you can’t tell me Dick was just magically at the right place to catch Tim falling to his death on coincidence)

And necessary to peace talks because he’s the best they have at deescalation

Like imagine you are a child who was raised to believe power is this obvious, all consuming thing. That the ones who control the board are visibly larger than life figures who fought their way to the top and cling to power by even the thinnest hangnail if they had to.

People who ignore simpler morals or an overall greater goal or good

And then you’re taken in by the man who whispers the correct answers into the larger than life figures ear.

Like I feel like that would have such an impact because Dick didn’t take power from anyone to reach his goals, it’s why his siblings don’t really defer to him unless in crisis.

Dick didn’t take power, no people just looked at him and decided he was the best option to give it to.

Everyone basically looked at this kid and went, yeah you’re the future of all heroism.

And if that dude can’t even get Bruce Wayne’s respect what chance does Damian Wayne have

[readwritealldayallnight]

“But what if you hate it?”

“I can tell ya I wouldn’t, because it’d be yours.”

“Okay but what if you actually do really hate it, and you can’t tell me because you just said that?”

“Love, ya don’ have to do this. I didn’t wan’ this to stress ya-”

“No! No, Simon I want to do it. It’s such a sweet idea you had, I’ll do another one.” You finally decide, putting the pen back to paper, unable to bring yourself to actually draw.

“Could always take any o’ the ones from the bin.” He offers, nodding his head over towards the overflowing waste basket surrounded by crumbled up pieces of paper, evidence of your many previous attempts.

When SImon had brought up the idea of you drawing something for him to add to his sleeve to represent you, you’d jumped at the opportunity, loving the idea. However, you’d all too quickly discovered that you were having issues committing to the idea of what to draw, and Simon was refusing to offer any ideas, wanting the idea and design to be entirely yours.

Appropriate to his call sign, your first instinct had been to try drawing different versions of ghosts, but each one felt too cartoony, too childish, and you passed on that idea.

Then you thought you would draw your own little skull, something that could more easily be incorporated into the images and not be totally out of theme. But the next issue to come to light though, was when the connection between you brain and your hand apparently forgot entirely how to draw a skull, and you hated everything that came up on paper.

“S’that a lightbulb?” He’d asked at one point, and the skull idea was quickly out the window too.

From there, you were worried he wouldn’t like any of your drawings, as you couldn’t bring yourself to like any them either. You’d both agreed to put a pin in it for the time being, and as the weeks passed, you nearly forgot about his request.

That was until, he came home with a plastic wrapping around his forearm.

“You hurt?” You ask him, immediately spotting the darker bandages peeking out from the edges of his sleeve as he removes his jacket.

“Nah, just got somethin’ done.” He replies, sauntering over to you, slowly folding up his sleeve to reveal more of his pale skin.

“Huh?

Instead of answering, he carefully unravels the outer layer of bandages, before slowly peeling back the bandage to show you the skin underneath, an overly pleased grin stretching across his face, chuckle bursting through as your stunned gasp echoes through your shared flat.

Forever on his skin, Simon has tattooed something you’d drawn in the first birthday card you ever gave him. In your handwriting, he can always glance down at himself and see both your and his initial with a plus sign between them, surrounded by a little heart with an arrow going through it. When you’d drawn it for him, never in a million years had you thought he would be etching the corny doodle onto himself permanently, but now, that same doodle is his favourite thing to look at when away on deployment.

[citricacidprince]

Could you draw that "I trust you" scene with Mabel and Stan but with the relativity AU? (The stan twins and pine twins swap ages au)

OF COURSE, I WILL GLADLY DRAW THEM!!! 💥💥💥

I’m gonna post a long winded thesis about my thoughts on this AU, my take on the AU, and two additional arts under the cut because ooooh boy it’s a tad bit long lol. Also, please please forgive the formatting, I’m writing this all on the fly and it’s extremely disjointed, sorry- 💥

I know there’s the ‘canon’ Relativity AU designs and character dynamics, however I don’t really like them that much ngl. I feel like it mostly just ends up with ‘Mabel and Dipper get switched with Stan and Ford with no nuances once so ever’ and that BLOWS!!! There’s so much potential there and no one is playing with it!! YOU GUYS DON’T EVEN HAVE MABEL PRETENDING TO BE DIPPER, WHATS THE POINT????

Not only that but I feel like making Dipper and Mabel’s dynamic just Ford and Stan’s when they’re adults is a HUGE simplification of their characters. Like, Mabel and Dipper fight, but they don’t fight like Stan and Ford, they’re not as hard headed and stubborn. Mabel would commit some crimes yes, but I don’t believe she would get into some of the heavy shit Stan had in his past. I refuse to believe Mr. Dipper ‘Undiagnosed Anxiety Disorder’ Pines would fall for Bill’s flattery as easily as Ford did.

The Pines Twins are very different from the Mystery Twins. Mabel and Dipper didn’t grow up with a father constantly comparing the two and pinning them against each other, outright telling one kid they’ll always be a failure while the other is going to have the burden of making their family rich. They never had that tension. They wouldn’t be walking on eggshells around eachother as adults.

I know that makes the concept sound boring to some, ‘Where’s the fun in the AU if you take away the sibling fighting’. You cowards, you can still have it, young Stan and Ford are RIGHT THERE. During the second half of the show when Dipper comes back through the portal, instead of having the older set of twins, something that doesn’t make sense with their characters, have a building tension that’s going to explode soon and keep it between Stan and Ford, don’t take it away from them. If anything, I think taking away the resentment and anger growing between the two and giving it to Mabel and Dipped is a butchering of all the characters.

Sure that means some of the episodes would have to change or be completely erased, but that’s fine!!! Make up some new ones!!! Get silly with it!!!

Mabel and Dipper talk about feelings, Stan and Ford don’t. Mabel and Dipper can’t stay mad at each other, Stan and Ford will try and stay mad for decades because being angry is easier than being upset.

In my idea of this AU that fight at the end of Weirdmageddon HAS to be between Stan and Ford, and Stan HAS to still be the one getting his memories erased.

💥 Post Not-What-He-Seems Relativity AU Rambling Below 💥

Dipper is a paranoid man, fool him once you’re never going to fool him again. He would never in a million years ever work with Bill again. Ford however is an extremely lonely child, both he and his brother are desperate for any type of positive attention. I think Bill would see him as a potential protege, especially since Ford is a ‘freak’ like he is and the kid is extremely smart for his age. He’s malleable, Bill probably thinks he could shape him uo to be the perfect lackey.

Ford, being the lonely kid he is, probably does fall for the praise initially. He craves attention and Bill pushes all the right buttons and says all the right words, tries and gains his trust even if time has proven again and again that he shouldn’t be trusting the demon.

The tension between the Stan Twins would grow after Grunkle Dipper comes back because Ford is upset that Stan didn’t listen to him (even if it was for the best that he did) and that Grunkle Dipper forgave Graunty Mabel so easily because if Ford was in those shoes he wouldn’t have. It grows more and more as Ford becomes distant and Stan tries to connect with his brother to no avail. Which, of course, comes to a boiling point when Ford says he’s going to stay in Gravity Falls and learn under Grunkle Dipper. Stan is rightfully upset. He can’t go back to New Jersey by himself. It’s always just been the two of them, he needed Ford, he couldn’t handle school or their father by himself. He can’t be alone.

Unlike Mabel who just wanted one more day of summer, Stan wishes that he wouldn’t be alone, which indirectly causes Weirdmaggendon.

Stan’s prison bubble would probably be a fake New Jersey-esc town full of a bunch of little Stans running around. Town O’ Stan. A place where no Stan is left behind.

The two don’t even get to have a heart to heart in the prison bubble. Stan was kinda forcibly taken out of the bubble and the tensions between the boys are higher than they’ve ever been.

During the Cipher Wheel fight Stan punches Ford and immediately feels bad when he sees he knocked out his brother’s tooth. He tries to apologize but Ford tackles him before he can, leading to the boys tussling on the floor. The two fight, whining out hurtful words neither of them mean and only stop when Bill shows up and captures them. Graunty Mabel and Grunkle Dipper run off and distract Cipher in hopes that they can keep the attention on themselves long enough that their great nephews could come up with a plan to escape.

The younger twins don’t find a way out and instead, finally, have an actual talk about their feelings, one that definitely ends up in tears as the two talk about the pressure that’s put on them or how worthless they feel. After that the boys get a rush of determination to escape when Stanley has a plan. Ford immediately hates the plan but Stan insists that they do it, in his own words, ‘Let me prove I can do something right for once.’

When Bill comes back and threatens to kill either Mabel or Dipper just for the hell of it, Ford calls out that he’d like to make a deal.

He wants to work with Bill, let Bill into his mind willingly. Bill immediately jumps on that offer. Ford is a promising young kid, perfect henchmaniac potential, not to mention it would absolutely devastate Dipper is his great nephew willingly turned to Bill’s side.

He goes into Ford’s head, revealing Stanley just in time to reveal that he was trapped, panicking as he was erased with a swift left-hook along with a kid who was happy to prove he was good for something after all.

Everyone was devastated after Weirdmaggedon of course, a child had his mind completely wiped. Stanford took it the worst, he just managed to finally break down those words that others built in his head, that he was too good for Stanley or that he didn’t need a knucklehead like him dumbing down his brain, and now his brother was gone. Just like that.

We all know what happens after this, Stan gets his memory back, everyone celebrates and the Stan twins are sent home, promising each other that they’ll never let anyone try and tear them apart ever again. Dipper and Mabel stay at the shack, after all, all they could ever want is there, where else could they possibly go?

Sorry this was… extremely rambly and long, I am extremely tired and can’t think straight I have a bunch more ideas and concepts so if anyone’s desperately wants to hear them just ask I guess, sorry you read this dumb of ass essay haha 💥

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - physical abuse, mentions of kidnapping, themes of marking/ownership. based on this ask.

Suguru has your name tattooed just below his collarbone.

It's subtle. Black ink pressed into neat kanji, bold lettering camouflaged behind the swirls and patterns of his other designs. Yours emerges from the back of a brilliant, white and blue dragon, while Satoru's hangs below, settled into the spiraling pupil of the dragon's eye. You try not to look for it. Really, you try not to look at him at all, but he makes it difficult - always forcing your hand against his chest, always asking you to read out the only names that have or will ever matter to him. It might be a little more romantic if he didn't seem so proud, if he didn't purr out his affirmations of love with quite so much self-satisfaction. He wants evidence of his claim to you, of his right to you, and what could be more telling than carrying your name so close to his heart?

Satoru wears two wedding rings.

Technically four, if you count the engagement bands he keeps on a delicate silver chain around his neck. It's embarrassing, honestly. He'd always been the one to propose - first to Suguru, when they were fresh out of high school, then to you, on the first anniversary of your abduction. The two of you aren't actually married (no, they'd never let you stray far enough from their countryside estate for that), but Satoru likes to pretend, and Suguru likes to indulge him. He calls you by all the right terms of endearment, brings home cake and flowers every few weeks for some invented milestone, whines when he finds your rarely-worn ring stuffed under the mattress or broken into pieces on the floor. He's always wanted something domestic, something mutual. Your continued imprisonment may eliminate any hope for the latter, but he can still try to nudge you towards the former.

They've both carved their names into you.

Suguru's, first, stretching over the small of your back. The lines are jagged, the scarring ugly and only just beginning to heal around the roughest patches. He did it on impulse - as a punishment for trying to run away, as proof that you'd never really be able to get away from them. He wanted to make himself a part of you, and in a way, he did.

Satoru's had to be inflicted later on, after weeks of building jealousy and off-handed comments about how unfair it would be to leave you so lopsided. His name was handled more with more care - engraved in your shared bedroom rather than the back of Suguru's car, using a proper scalpel rather than a rusted pocket knife. Suguru held you while Satoru did the dirty work, nuzzling into your tear-streaked cheeks and promising that they were only doing this because they loved you, because they had to make sure you knew who you belonged with. That did nothing to stop the pain, of course, almost as intense as the bitter hatred you feel every time Satoru presses a line of kisses up the length of your spine or Suguru settles a hand over the ruined mess of skin and flesh that you once called your own. Satoru holds up his rings to your scars, and Suguru offers to get another line of ink, and they try to convince you that you're all on equal ground. You're not, though. Obviously, you're not.

As violently as they refuse to admit it, Satoru can take off his rings, and Suguru can cover up his tattoos. Your claims to them can be removed, or hidden, and if they ever wanted to, they could leave, separate themselves, run.

For whatever reason, you just weren't given the same choice.