#i was writing a story /srs

[anthro-cat]

me when i write a lot for a post and then decide that nobody cares

[introspectivememories]

what's wrong with data analyst bernard?

summary: tim's a workaholic ceo. bernard is, to put it simply, a down-on-his-luck loser with a kid to take care of. somewhere along the line, they meet. (very loosely based on the 2018 hit kdrama, "what's wrong with secretary kim?")

A/N: for @chamiryokuroi bc this fanart has given me brainrot since the moment i saw it. but also bc, i missed writing and your art helped. i hope you like it. (more notes at the end.) (AO3 LINK)

Today is a good day, Bernard thinks happily, brand new ID badge bouncing on his tie. It's his first day at Wayne Ent. and Mori had sent him off with a hug and muttered, "have a good day, Tou-san." It's been bouncing around in his head all day. Tou-san, Tou-san, Tou-san, he's really a dad now. He's got to make sure Mori has everything he needs and this new job is going to make sure he can do that.

Shaking his head once to clear it, he takes a sip of the complimentary coffee a team member bought him for his first day. His team leader, Young-joon Lee, is taking him on a tour of the building. Young-joon is a wonderful man in his late 30s but it's very clear that he's been consumed by the office lifestyle.

"...and here is our magnificent lobby!" Young-joon is saying as he tunes back in. His team leader spreads his arms wide out as he speaks, "Everyone knows the lobby but it's my personal philosophy that making friends or at least being on amicable terms with the ground floor staff will make your life easier."

Bernard laughs politely, "I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times being nice to the host at the restaurant I used to work at saved my butt during rush hour."

"A man after my own heart!" Young-joon says, smiling widely as he leads him to the help desk.

Bernard tilts his head up to look at the skylight. It's a gorgeous thing with little animal motifs running alongside it. It lights up the lobby bringing a welcoming feeling into it. With the sunlight pouring into the room, along with the din of busy workers in slacks running to and fro, it really feels like stepping into a movie.

Are you seeing me Darls?, he thinks with a childlike glee, hand coming up to thumb at his badge again, I made it!

"This, my friend," Young-joon says, pulling up to the help-desk, "is our wonder-duo. Tamara and Abhishek. They practically run this building. Lord knows we'd be tripping all over ourselves without them."

Tamara and Abhishek smile as they get introduced.

"They run this building?" he asks confusedly.

"You see, young padawan," Abhishek says, "not only do we help the people that come in here asking questions or for instructions, we also answer any questions the staff has for us."

"Things like, 'What's HR’s number?' or 'Can you page Data for me?' or 'No seriously, I'm calling HR on this man right now. What is their number?'" Tamara says grinning.

Bernard laughs. It feels like that's all he's been doing since he got here. "You have to tell me the story on that one day."

"Sorry," Tamara says, faux-apologetic, "the minimum clearance on that story is half-a-year. Gotta level up."

His cheeks hurt from smiling. This is his and Mori's new beginning. This is where they level up. Nothing's gonna stop him now.

"Do you know the story behind that one?" he asks, turning to Young-joon.

"Of course! But where would be the fun in telling you? You have to stay the six months and if luck comes my way, longer."

"You want me for longer?"

"Of course, I saw the way you worked during those practice problems in the interview. I had to fight the other team leaders for you. It was brutal."

"Get back I say!" Young-joon says, miming a sword fight. A pleased warmth builds in his chest; they wanted him, they wanted him!

Darls you better be fucking watching this. I'm movin' up in the world.

"Ooh, send me that footage. I wanna see our newest recruits skills," Abhishek says.

"You got the data team fighting over you?" Tamara asks, eyebrows raised, "I wanna see it—"

Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the sound of both of their pagers pinging. Immediately going stock still, they start typing on their computers.

Bernard turns to Young-joon confused but his team leader looks like nothing is out of the ordinary.

"The boss is coming." Young-joon says, like that's a reasonable explanation for two people shutting down in the middle of the conversation, "It's always quite a spectacle and they always have to notify the other execs. Just watch."

Still, the boss? Maybe Bruce Wayne will say 'hi' to him and he'll charm the CEO and Mr. Wayne can figure out a way to—

No, no. He's done making those kinds of fantasies. Nobody is coming to help. Bernard is going to figure out his life on his own, he is going to take such good care of his kid, and he is not going to wait for some rich billionaire to swoop in and take care of him. He got this far didn't he? He'll get even farther.

He and his team leader lean against the help desk sipping coffee as they wait for the CEO to come in and sure enough, a black Rolls Royce pulls up to the driveway in the front. The minute the door opens, flashes from the paparazzi's cameras start going off. Out steps a bodyguard in a black suit with an umbrella opened. From below the umbrella he sees a nice pair of brown loafers step out. The CEO seems to be wearing a navy blue suit today. The paparazzi roars and the flashes increase.

"Oh wow," a man remarks a few feet away from him, "the circus is strong today, huh?" His friend laughs.

A woman wearing red heels steps out after the CEO, the paparazzi flashes decrease dramatically. More bodyguards exit after the woman and form a square around the CEO and his assistant/secretary. They shuffle towards the entrance where he sees the elderly doormen greet the executives with a smile. Whatever they say is lost to the sound of the city but the doormen laugh and push the doors open.

Young-joon's been making small talk throughout the entrance and Bernard tries to keep up but whatever the hell is going on at the entrance is way more interesting than anything his team leader is talking about. As they enter the guards spread out and dissolve the square. The woman comes into view first, red heels with a black slacks and a white button down. She's holding a long coat in one hand and a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She's gorgeous and clearly the one in charge, going by the way she barks orders at the guards.

Young-joon says something and he turns around to respond, grabbing his coffee cup off the desk counter. His CEO's loafers tap across the lobby's marble floor, something about it is comforting. A lull in the room's conversations causes the CEO's voice to carry over.

"...Tam, make sure the quarterly reports are on my desk by at least 4 today and make sure to push back the sales meeting by 30 minutes to an hour, the board wants to talk — Oh Mr. Bardakcı! Thank you for stay—..."

Bernard's heart jackrabbits in his chest. He knows that voice but- it can't be. It's not possible; he chose Wayne Enterprises for a reason. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at his father's company. Unless... there was a merger? No, that seems like the kind of thing the news wouldn't've shut up about. He would've known.

When was the last time you had time to sit down and read the news, Bear? Darls says inside his head

She's right. With filing for custody of Mori and graduating from college and the job search, he hasn't had time for much else. It's entirely possible that he could've missed one of the biggest mergers of the decade.

Fuck, Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Bernard was supposed to be moving on. He was supposed to be building a life for himself away from the shadows of his childhood. He was supposed to be forgetting that Tim Drake ever existed.

He has to make sure though. Turning his body around, he prays that it's not the man he thinks it is. But sure enough, there stands Tim Drake, resplendent in a navy blue suit and a golden tie.

Golden ties for golden boys, he thinks absentmindedly.

The suit fits him perfectly, stretching across his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. Even the tie looks knotted perfectly. How long did it take him to learn, Bernard wonders. He could never get it right back in high school. Does his assistant Tam do it- no, no! This is why he didn't apply to Drake Industries. Bernard can't do anything around Tim and Tim is never going to care enough about him to stay.

Tim's head seems to be turning in his direction and Bernard whips his head back to make sure Tim doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him. His hand twitches violently enough that the coffee cup falls out of his hand and spills all over the floor. The cup rattles deafeningly on the floor. Bernard can't fucking breathe.

"-ernard? Bernard!" his team leader's voice cuts through the haze in his head. Young-joon looks concerned, "Are you okay?"

He blinks slowly, "...What?"

"I said, 'Are you okay?’ You look like you've seen a ghost?"

No, Bernard thinks, seeing Darls would be preferable to whatever level of hell I've found myself in.

"I'm—, I'm fine." he says rather unconvincingly. His eyes dart back to the spill, "What am I saying? There's a large puddle of coffee on the floor. I—, I should get some paper towels for that."

"Do you have any paper towels, Wonder-Duo?" he asks, trying desperately to ignore Tamara and Abhishek's concerned looks.

"I already called the custodial staff," Tamara says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook him, "but if it makes you feel any better," she pulls out a huge stack of paper towels, "go crazy, I guess."

Bernard takes a handful of paper towels and gets to work. The cleaning is meditative and with each swipe of the paper towel, the puddle gets smaller. Bernard pretends the puddle is his feelings for Tim. Swipe, forget about the 4pm milkshakes and his laughter when Darls snorted milk out of her nose. Swipe, don't think about the way he used to smell. Swipe, he left and never looked back; you don't look back either.

The tap, tap, tap of loafer on marble is getting closer to them for some reason. Why is it getting closer? Does it not have staff meetings, market research, and people to leave behind?

"What is going on here?" Tim asks.

"Nothing much, sir." Abhishek responds, "Newbie just spilled some coffee."

Abhishek, no!

"Oh is that all? And he took the initiative to start cleaning instead of waiting for the custodial staff. You made a good choice, Young-joon."

"Thank you, sir!" Young-joon says, "I was taking him on the tour when you came in. Most newbies love the show so I thought we'd stop here for a little bit."

Tim laughs. Bernard hates that his heart still skips a beat at the sound.

A pair of brown loafers and a wool-covered knee slowly appear in his vision. Why is Tim crouching in front of him? Why won't this man leave him alone?

"This looks like quite a lot of work, let me help."

You can help by leaving me the hell alone, he thinks uncharitably.

"I hope you found the facilities to your liking," Tim continues, like he hadn't heard Bernard's thoughts, "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO."

I know, he wants to say. I know you're Tim Drake. I know you like to skateboard and that you stared at Tony Hawk's photo for an hour every day in high school ‘cause didn't want to be one of those people who didn't recognize him. I know you struggled with your dad not really being there. I know you loved Mrs. Winters as much as you loved your mom. I know that you like history more than any other subject even though your best was always math.

Bernard says nothing instead.

Tim laughs awkwardly and Bernard knows he isn't helping the conversation along but whatever, he's allowed to be petty, right?

"I assure you, whatever you heard in the tabloids and the news, isn't true. I promise I won't bite…," Tim’s voice trails off as Bernard lifts his head.

"...Bernard?" Tim whispers, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Bernard tries for a smile, he's pretty sure it comes out looking like a grimace.

"Sir," he says nodding curtly, hands still moving to sweep up the coffee puddle.

Tim's hand reaches out to touch his face, as if to make sure Bernard is really there. Bernard recoils as Tim's hand grazes his cheek. Tim's hand hangs in the air uselessly.

"Bernard?" Tim says again, as if to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

"That's my name, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, "don't wear it out."

He can feel Young-joon and the Wonder-Duo's confused stare but he says nothing. What would he even say, really?

Hey, this is my old friend Tim Drake? Hey, I used to know him like the back of my hand? Hey, our best friend died and it feels like I'm the only one still grieving? Hey, in my junior year, five different gangs shot up my school and my best friend died in my arms and he left and I had to pick up the pieces by myself? Hey, I'm the idiot that's still in love with Tim Drake?

The clack of Tam's heels comes as a welcome distraction.

"Tim!" she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "What the hell do you think you're doing? We have to go talk to the board. Build rapport with your employees later."

Tim stumbles to his feet, "Yes, but—, I—, This is—"

He sounds like he's glitching. Bastard. Is it really such a surprise to see Bernard in a well paying job? Even Tam is starting to look a little concerned now.

"Explain later," she commands, dragging Tim behind her. Bernard keeps his head down and continues wiping up the coffee puddle. Sneaking a glance upward shows him that Tim keeps turning back around to stare at him.

For a moment their eyes meet, brown against blue. 'Bernard?' he sees Tim mouth. Bastard, saying his name so many times. Doesn't he know what that does to Bernard? Why does Tim insist on breaking his heart again and again and again? Was once not enough?

He's tired of putting these walls up and just for a second, he lets them come down. Let Tim see the entirety of his brokenness. Tim already has his heart, he can have this too.

'Tim' he mouths back, smiling sadly. Tim looks stunned and the rage that had been simmering in his gut begins to boil over.

Do you see what I've become? Do you see how thoroughly Grieves ruined me? Is this not your doing too? Why did you leave? Have you ever visited Darla? Why was it so easy for you to not look back? Was I not your friend? Or was it just a time pass? Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?

He watches until the elevator doors close, separating him from Tim once again. His body sags like a marionette cut from its strings and his fingers clench uselessly around the coffee soaked paper towels. A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches.

"Hey, hey," Young-joon soothes from where he's crouched right next to him. When did Young-joon crouch down? How much time has he missed? "It's just me, Bernard. Are you okay? What was that? Does our CEO know you?"

He exhales shakily. He needs to get out of here. He needs to sob hard enough he throws up. He needs the steady press of a knife on his back. He needs things he's not allowed to have anymore.

Bernard shoots up so fast the world spins around him. holding onto the desk for support, he tries to smile at his team leader. It stretches across his face misshapenly.

"I'm—, I'm sorry," he says stumbling over his words in a rush to get them out, "I have to—"

He has to what? Pretend to not see Darls out of the corner of his eye? Pretend like his hands don't have blood on them? Pretend like he isn't seeing bullet wounds every time he closes his eyes?

"—go to the bathroom," he finishes lamely. Gathering up all of the paper towels, he walks away dazedly, ignoring Young-joon's calls behind him. He shoves the towels in the nearest trashcan, letting his feet lead him to the nearest bathroom.

The bathroom is thankfully empty when he enters and he locks the door behind him. Sliding down the door, he exhales shakily. There's not enough air in this room; he can't breathe. The fluorescent lights hum above their coverings. The one on the left flickers. Who's bright idea was it to install school lights in a business office's bathroom?

The world outside the bathroom rushes on too loudly. Somebody is talking about their vacation. Someone is bemoaning their presentation today. His chest is getting tighter. His hands come up to tug on his hair. Why can't he breathe?

The exhales are coming quicker and quicker. Something comes tapping down the hallway. It's the gunmen, it has to be. A quick glance down tells him all he needs to know: he's covered in blood.

It's Lila's, he thinks dazedly, I had to carry her into the office. Or no, it's Olu's. I held him when he died. He said, he said, what did he say?

Why can't he remember? He hits his head with the heel of his palm.

Think he tells himself, we have to tell Olu's parents what he said. He said—, he said—.

His body sags.

Oh now he remembers. He said, "I don't wanna die Bernard."

A whimper tears itself out of his throat and he slaps a palm over his mouth. There's blood smeared across his face now, he must look like he walked out of a slasher film. He has to be quiet. if he's too loud, the gunmen will find them and then they'll all be dead.

Cry quietly, he tells himself, Darls doesn't need—

Darla! How could he forget about Darla with a hole in her gut? He needs to get to her. Lurching forward, he scrabbles across Mrs. Castillo's linoleum floor. He's smearing Olu's blood everywhere. Why won't Nikhil stop fucking crying so loudly? Goddamn freshmen and their hysterics. Where is Tim? Is he safe? He can't lose both friends today, please Lord, please.

BANG!

A violent flinch tears through his body. He sobs audibly this time, gagging on his spit. It's the gunmen, it has to be. He hasn't even held Darls' hand or counted Tim's moles for the last time. Where are the Darls? She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like violence like this.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" a voice asks from behind him.

He freezes. Slowly he turns around and nearly yells in shock. Falling back on his butt, he stares up at his friend.

(He has to be quiet, he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet-)

Darls is standing behind him still in her crop top and cargo pants. Her once smooth midsection, bloodied and warped. The bullet wound still drips blood.

Plink, plink, plink.

Bernard hates the scent of iron.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" she asks, her voice echoing, "I thought we were friends."

There’s blood dripping down the side of her mouth. Now he remembers, the blood on him isn’t Olu’s or Lila’s — although there is that too — it’s almost overwhelmingly Darla’s. He’s covered in it. Elbows deep in it. It streaks up his arms like a macabre tattoo. He wore a white shirt to school today. The stains will never come out. He is Carrie at the end of prom, mortified and humiliated.

He crawls backwards until his back hits the wall, the impact knocking him out of the worst of that night. He's back in the bathroom. The lights hum loudly overhead. Darla hasn’t left yet.

She tilts her head, “Why didn’t you help me, Bear? I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he rasps out, “we are friends.”

“Are we?” her eyes have no pupils. His Darls had eyes that shone in the sunlight. His Darls is dead. “Then why am I still bleeding? Why am I still hurting? Why is there a bullet in my stomach, Bear?!”

She’s shouting by the end and he flinches. His hands can’t seem to stop tugging at his hair. The blood must’ve smeared all over it. Talk about taking strawberry blond literally.

“I swear I did everything I could Darls,” he sobs out quietly, voice cracking, “I followed all of Mrs. Castillo’s instructions as best I could. I put pressure and tied the dressing as tight as I could.”

“You thought that was enough?” she snarls, hands coming down to grip the wound. It twists grotesquely; he gags, “You think any of that matters when I’m dead and you’re still alive?”

“Please, please. You know I wouldn’t leave you to die, Darls. Please, please, please believe me.”

“Liar, liar!” she screams, blood dripping out of her mouth onto her pink LOVE shirt. It darkens as each drop hits it. Soon it’ll be completely drenched and she’ll be drowning in it. Where did his smiling friend go? “I’m dead, Bear! I’m dead, dead, dead and it’s all your fault! Why didn’t you save me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”

He keens, body curling in on itself. One hand goes down to press on his throat; he’s making too much noise. Nikhil’s just a freshman. He shouldn’t have to die just because Bernard couldn’t shut up for once in his life.

“Please,” he whispers raggedly, “I tried, I tried. I swear I tried, Darls.”

“It hurts, Bear,” she sobs. Darla’s too young to be sounding so wrecked, “It hurts so much. Please help me.”

All of sudden, it’s too much. The taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue and Darla won’t stop sobbing. His fingers fumble for his phone and he presses one. It rings once, twice and finally on the third ring does a voice answer.

“Bear?” the other side says groggily.

“Ty please, I can't do this anymore,“ he sobs.

Tyrone suddenly sounds a lot more alert, “Bear what’s going on?”

“Darla won’t stop crying and she keeps on screaming that it’s my fault she died.” he wails, “I know I should’ve done more but please, can you tell her I tried? That I stayed with her until the end? She won’t listen to me, Ty. She won’t listen to me.”

There’s a muffled yell of ‘Babe!” on the other end. “Yeah,” Ty breathes out, “I’ll tell her.”

“You put me on speaker, okay?” Ty instructs, “And you gotta tell me if she’s nodding or if she’s gone or if she said anything, alright? I can’t see her.”

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the phone away from his ear to press the speaker button.

“You tell me when to start, Bear,” he says, voice filling the bathroom. Darla looks up from where she’s sobbing.

“You can start now Ty,” he rasps out, holding the phone out.

“Hey Darla,” Ty says, “Bear told me you said a lotta mean things about him. Stuff like, ‘he’s the reason you died’ and that ‘he never cared’. Darla, you gotta believe me when I say Bear never stopped caring. He held your hand the whole way through. Told you stories about all the things you two were gonna do once you got out of that nurse’s office. He tried, Darla, honest. I’ve never seen him as focused as when you stopped breathing and Mrs. Castillo had him give you CPR. He couldn’t stop sobbing the whole time.”

“But I’m still dead,” she says.

“But I’m still dead,” he repeats.

Ty inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he says thickly, “you are. And I’ll never stop being sorry about that. But you can’t take that out on Bear. He’s just trying to live his life.”

Darls’ face twists up like a childs, “But it hurts,” she cries.

“But—, but it hurts,” he repeats, voice hitching.

Ty curses, “Oh, fuck. I can’t do this. Babe, can you—?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Hey, Darla. It’s me, Jimmy from the football team. I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. After high school, me and Tyrone ended up getting married. Somewhere between shitty weed brownies and bad college parties, we fell in love. Isn’t that nice?”

Darls nods; he tells them as such.

“We visited you after the ceremony. I hope you felt that wherever you are these days. But the point I’m trying to make is that from all I’ve told you just now, you can probably figure out that Ty and I didn’t go pro like we planned. The shooting fucked up Ty’s knee and and my arm. After the hospital stays, playing football for a whole bunch of people just didn’t sound appealing anymore. We’re high school teachers now. Ty teaches math and I teach gym. When it rains or gets cold, my arm and Ty’s knee hurts like hell. But Darla, it doesn't hurt forever. It gets better, I promise.”

“Darla,” Jimmy says, voice unusually serious, “you’re right, you are dead and it does hurt. I’m sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away for you; I’m not too much of an expert on the supernatural. Ty’s the smart one, after all. But I love you, Ty loves you, Bear loves you. I hope that when it hurts the most you can use that as a balm.”

“Auntie Bea loves you too!” Ty’s mom hollers from the background, “Aunt Betty, too!”

Ty laughs wetly and Jimmy snorts, “Does that sound okay?” they ask.

Darls smiles, her teeth stained red from all the blood that built up in her mouth. Bernard misses her with an ache he feels in his bones. Darls nods.

“She nodded,” he says quietly. He blinks once and she’s gone. Where did she go? Doesn’t she know that the gunmen are still at large? She needs to be somewhere safe. He can’t lose a friend today.

“Bear, Bear, you gotta breathe. Take a deep breath for me, c’mon,” Jimmy says.

“She’s gone, Jim. She’s gone again. Why does she keep leaving?” he says, crying. His body can’t stop trembling. How long has he been here? How much time has he missed?

“I miss the cult,” he whispers, “I never had things like this happen when I was with them.”

“Yeah,” Ty snaps, “‘Cause you were high off of like 50 different pain meds ‘cause you let them whip you.”

“Ty, not helping.”

“Move over, let me talk to him."

"Hey, sweetheart," Auntie Bea's voice crackles through his tiny speaker, "I know you're tired and I know you're hurting. I know you miss the cult but you gotta breathe for me, okay? You're gonna pass out otherwise."

"I can't, I can't," he gasps out. 

"Sure you can, you just gotta tell me five things you can see. Can you list those five things for me?"

Bernard desperately tries to get his breathing under control, "The sink is dirty."

"Good, good. Anything else?" 

"The tiles need to be re-grouted."

Aunt Betty barks out a laugh. Bernard's lips twitch upward.

"Keep going."

"My pants, my white shirt, my ID badge," he rattles off.

They talk him through the rest of the grounding techniques and by the time he feels like he's in control again, he's exhausted. His eyes hurt and his throat is dry. 

"Can you tell us why you spiraled so hard, Bear? This hasn't happened in a long time," Jimmy asks.

"I spoke to Tim again," he says simply. He pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to the sink. Setting the phone down on the counter, he grips the sink with both hands and just breathes. The Bernard in the mirror looks like he just came out of a warzone, eyes haunted, hair messed up. 

"Oh fuck," Ty says, "Where did you even meet him?"

"At my new job at Wayne Ent."

"Why would you apply there?" Jimmy asks, stressed.

"I didn't know! It's not like I've had a lotta time in the past few years to check the news!"

"Well, whatever, what’s done is done." Ty says, ever practical, "Are you going to quit?"

"No!” he says vehemently.

“No,” he repeats quieter, “Wayne has the best benefits and Mori needs that. I’ll just suck it up and try to avoid him.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Aunt Betty says.

“Ma!”

“Oh be quiet Jimmy. I’ve never heard of a more stupider thing. He’s your CEO, Bear, and he knows you work there. He’s obviously going to want ‘to catch up’ or whatever. There is no avoiding him. Can you handle that?”

What can he say? Aunt Betty is right. He can’t handle talking to Tim. Even seeing Tim felt like touching a live wire. He can’t deal with another episode. Mori doesn’t need him to be fucked up, Mori needs him to be the stable adult he promised the courts he was. 

“You can’t, sweetheart,” she says softly, “you can’t handle it.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the phone. 

“Bear,” Ty says gently, “I love you, man. You’re my brother. Jimmy loves you, Mama loves you, Aunt Betty loves you. But you gotta start thinking about therapy.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’m—”

Ty cuts him off with an exasperated huff, “It’s not about that Bear. I’ll keep talking to your hallucinations for as long as you need me too. Even when we’re seventy, I’ll do it for you. I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I don’t want you to keep seeing Darla. I don’t want you to keep trying to scrub the blood off your hands. 

“And I know you’ve been avoiding therapy ‘cause you don’t got the money and ‘cause talking about your problems is scary but it’s not just you anymore. You got Mori now. That custody claim is going through. You can’t just avoid things ‘cause they’re hard now. You work at Wayne now; that paycheck is more than enough to set a few dollars aside each month to save up for therapy. Hell, mental health probably comes with your medical benefits. Please, Bear. If you can’t get help for you, then do it for us, for Mori. Please stop making us watch you hurt.”

Bernard exhales shakily.

“I never wanna find you the way we did after the cult, Bear. I never wanna see you in the hospital bed like that again. Please don’t do that to us, please,” Ty whispers.

Unconsciously, his hand comes up to rub at the scar left behind from the sacrifice. It stretches along the length of his sternum, jagged and rough. On good days, he can pretend that it’s a scar from a heart surgery. He doesn’t have that many good days.

Bernard presses the heel of his palms into his eyes before using his hands to scrub at his face. He’s always so tired these days.

“Okay,” he says simply, “okay.”

“Okay?” Ty asks hopefully.

“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just me anymore. Mori deserves the best and I’m gonna give it to him. And I love Tim, I think I’ll always love Tim but he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. So I gotta make my peace with it or I’ll go crazy.”

Ty whoops, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chants.

“Bear, it’s still the middle of the workday,” Jimmy says, although he too, sounds happy. Auntie Bea and Betty are muttering about a feast, he thinks. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Yeah, that’s if I’m not fired already,” he mutters.

“Hey!” Jimmy admonishes, “Optimism only, no pessimism.”

“Alright, alright. I gotta get back to work now. Thanks guys.”

“Of course, we’ll let you go now. Ma wants me to tell you that we’re having dinner at your place today.”

“Aunt Betty,” he whines, “I haven’t cleaned and you and Auntie Bea are just looking for a reason to spoil Mori.”

“Absolutely,” they say, unashamed, “he’s our only grandson. We have to spoil him.”

“Fine,” he sighs but he’s smiling. Fuck, he loves these people. God knows he wouldn’t have survived the past six years without them.

“Bye Bear,” they say before he hangs up, “Good luck on your first day!”

He cuts the phone and slides it back into his pocket. Turning on the tap, he splashes some cold water onto his face. Using his wet hands, he tries to rearrange his mussed up hair into something acceptable for an office job.

Time to face the music Darls, he tells her smiling face in the mirror. She gives him a thumbs up in return.

The walk back to his office feels like a death sentence. He’s fucked this up, he knows it. Freaking out over a small interaction with his CEO and then running away only to come back two hours later? It’s over, done for. Bernard takes comfort in the fact that at least the severance package will be nice.

Stepping into the office, immediately draws the eyes of his team members. Every step towards his team leader’s office feels nerve-wracking. Just before he enters, Esperanza, the team’s second in command, stops him.

“Whatever happened,” she says, “just explain it to him. Young-joon’s a reasonable man, he’s not gonna yell at you.”

Some of the tension leaves him and he nods. Knocking on the door, he enters. His team leader looks up and smiles.

“Ah, Bernard! Why don’t you take a seat for me?”

He crosses his wrists behind his back, “I’d rather stand, sir.”

His team leader looks confused, “‘Sir’? Just call me Young-joon like I told you.”

“Anyway, after you left, I took the liberty of going through your file to see if there was anything I missed. I hope that wasn’t overstepping my boundaries.”

“No s-, Young-joon. You’re fine.”

Young-joon sighs and pushes the file he was reading before Bernard came in forward. It’s his file. 

“I’m going to say some statements,” he says, “and I want you to confirm whether it’s true or not. If any of these questions make you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? I’ll drop it immediately.”

Bernard nods.

“You went to Louis E. Grieves Memorial High School.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the dates you put in your file, you were there for the shooting.”

“...Yes. Junior year.”

“You know our CEO.”

“Yes,” he breathes out.

“How?”

He used to fall asleep on my shoulder during lunch and I would listen to him breathe. He’s got moles all over his face. Darls once connected them with a sharpie. His step-mom was so hot, I thought I’d spontaneously combust every time she smiled. HIs dad didn’t really like me and flirting with his wife didn’t help my case. The Drake condo had a crocheted flower blanket on the sofa that his mom had made during her pregnancy. He liked to skateboard but couldn’t roller-blade to save his life. I have all this love and nowhere to put it.

“It’s a little private,” he says instead.

“I’m only asking because we work quite closely with him. We see him often and if that makes you uncomfortable, then I can have you transferred to another team.”

His shoulders sag, “We went to Grieves together for one year. Our mutual friend died. It’s a little hard to look at him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Young-joon says, “Okay well the offer is still on the table, Bernard. Do you want to be transferred?”

“No, I like your team. I’d like to stay,” he says, firmly.

“Are you sure?” Youn-joon asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” and it’s like a switch had flipped. Gone is his serious team leader and in its place is the man he met this morning.

“If you plan on staying,” he says smiling, “then my primary recommendation is that you use the medical benefits the company gives you to find a therapist. If you need help, the infirmary here will walk you through it.” 

Oh thank god it comes included with his medical, Ty will be overjoyed to hear that. But first, he has to ask Young-joon why he’s doing all this. Bernard knows his experience with authority figures is a little skewed towards the shitty side of the spectrum but even so, people usually aren’t so kind in his experience.

“Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you fire me? Why are you helping me?”

Young-joon chuckles, “Do you want to be fired?”

“No! But still, why are you helping me?”

Young-joon sighs and stands up. Walking around his desk, he stops right in front of Bernard. Young-joon puts a hand on his shoulder.

“This city takes a lot out of its people, believe me I know. And you were so young, when Gotham took her piece of you. It wasn’t fair of you to go through that. Just like it wasn’t fair to me and my wife when we got kidnapped as children. These kinds of things don’t go away. I still get worked up over zip-ties. My wife still has nightmares. All you can do is learn to live with it.

“You seem like a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste ‘cause you kept getting trapped in your mind. I had a lot of help to get to where and who I am today. Consider this, me paying it forward. One day, I hope you can pay it forward too.”

His eyes feel suspiciously wet. “Thank you,” he chokes out, “thank you.”

Young-joon laughs, “There’s no need for the waterworks, Bernard. Now, pack up your things and go home. You’re in no state to analyze data today but I expect you here at 9AM sharp tomorrow, alright?”

Bernard mock salutes, “Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Bernard.”

Right before he exits, he turns around and calls out his team leader’s name.

“Young-joon,” Young-joon looks up confused, “you can call me Bear, by the way.”

A wide grin stretches across his team leader’s face, “Okay then. Goodbye Bear, see you tomorrow.”

Walking out of the office, it feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Esperanza takes one look at him and snorts.

“You just got Young-joon-ed, huh?”

His jaw drops, “He does that often enough you guys have a name for it?”

The other team members laugh, “Welcome to Data Analysis Team 1, kiddo. We look forward to working with you from now on.”

Smiling, he gathers his things and leaves after a few goodbyes. Once outside the building, the smile drops. It’s an hour-and-a-half bus ride from Wayne Tower to his house. The bus stop sits right in front of the tower too. Some new initiative by the mayor to promote the city moving towards green energy. Hey look, even rich people take the bus! What a fucking joke.

The tower warps the sunlight around it and he stares up at the top floor. Is Tim watching? Can Tim see him from up there? Does he care or was it just the shock of seeing someone he once knew this morning? Has Tim ever thought about him, about them? Or were they just moments in his life? Perpendicular lines, intersecting once and then never again.

I miss you, he thinks staring at the top floor, I miss you more than anything but I’ll walk into oncoming traffic before I ever reach for you again.

The bus pulls up next to him and he snags a seat in the back. Dropping his head onto the seat in front of him, he stares out the window. Darls smiles back at him in the window reflection, perpetually sixteen. He’s twenty-two now.

Fuckin’ hell Darls, he thinks wearily, we’re really in it now.

Darls places her hand against the glass, he leans his shoulder onto it. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel her warmth.

We’ll make it through, she says.

The bus rumbles forward and he lets the cracked streets of Gotham lull him to sleep. He’ll make it through.

A/N: chami! i hope you like it!!! i've never gifted a fic before, i don't really know how this works. and to everyone who read it, i hope you liked it too! please leave your thoughts in the reblogs or replies!!! i miss the days when td:r was coming out and we were all collectively freaking out. anyway when i said loosely based, i really did mean loosely. props to you guys if you can figure out the direct references to the drama. but this is a one-shot. i'm not gonna be writing anything else for this 'verse? au? (god i'm always so worried im using em dashes wrong)

if you have questions or you're confused by something i wrote, feel free to ask questions or send an ask or message. oh, and i know some people like know the exact wordcount. so, it's exactly 6,785 words long. nice number right?

also, please note that if you want to make art or a podfic or hell, even fanfiction of this, feel free to do so! i hope that's not too presumptuous or anything. idk i see fanfic writers make this disclaimer all the time, so i thought i'd do it to.

thank you for reading!

[majorproblems77]

Sacred realm competition entry!

Hello!

This is my participation in the @zelda-the-sacred-realm's writing and art competition, for the theme Adventure. I love this comic so much and I love the characters. I've tried my best to characterise them based on the information we have.

We are sending our friend Link on an adventure today, and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. (To be honest, i really enjoyed making this and ill probably continue it in the future.)

And a thank you to the creator, for giving us the opportunity to create stuff like this. This was so much fun, and I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone else has come up with as well.

It will be Cross-posted to my A03 account (And my writing account)- As soon as I figure out how to tag it so it's findable

For now, I introduce

You're a hero too, a sacred realm short story

- 1705 words

“It’ll be an adventure!”

He was already on enough of an adventure thank you very much. According to Wind, they had come across a Temple entrance of some kind, and The young spirit seemed eager to explore its depths

“Uhh Sky?” Link asked softly. Standing behind the spirit as the sky hero walked ahead of the group.

“Look over there. You see that.” Wind bounced on the balls of his feet and pointed to his right towards a large-looking tunnel. Engravings curved around the wall.  “Theres a tunnel here. And where you find engravings like this. There's often a temple not far behind. With puzzles!”

“A puzzle?” Link asked. “Like from the stories?”

“Yeah!” Wind smiled, his eyes searching the wall. “Guaranteed there’s a puzzle in there.”

“Gods and spirits often leave things for heroes to find later. I got these from a temple!” Sky turned his head to show his earrings. The light of the hero's spirit shone across them as Link looked closer at them. “Originally these were fireproof earrings for my adventures through a volcano.”

“You think I’ll get anything like that?” Link looked back to the forest behind them as they entered the tunnel.

“Well, you are a hero.” Sky smiled. Placing a hand to Link’s back. Turning his head to look at him. “So I would think so!”

Link smiled softly, as Wind ran ahead. Ushering him forward. “Come on!”

Wind lead the way into the tunnel as the group entered the darkness. “Is it very long? Do I need a torch?” The realm’s hero asked, wringing his hands nervously as he continued to follow the group.

The tunnel opened out to large pit in the middle of the room. Decorated in red and blue torches the top of the walls had runes across it. Sunlight filtered through the ceiling, as the three separated. Time walked to one of the walls, investigating it. While, Link walked to the large pit which sat central in the room.

“Uhh… What do I do?” Link turned back to Sky, who had paused between the two. Looking to the ceiling above the hole, then down at it. He moved across the room to stand besides Link. Sky looked around the room. Eyes pausing on time for a moment. A hand raised to his chin.  “Well. If I had to guess…”

“Hang on.” Sky paused. Looking to Time who had a hand raised. Then to Link. “I think he should figure it out.”

“Why?” Wind raised an eyebrow. Crossing his arms. “We are here for a reason. Surely we should be helping him when we can.”

“And if there's another spirit barrier?” Time said, stopping the hero of the wind’s in his tracks. He pointed a finger towards the hero of the Sky. “You were out of action for a week by hopping into the fight.”

“Hoping into the fight was the right thing to do.” Sky shot back quickly. His voice not accusatory for the moment, but a hint of annoyance on the tip of his tongue.

“I had it handled.”

“Did you?” A pause. “Or did that thing inside the medallion have to save you.” Sky pointed to the item on Link’s chest. Eyes fixed on Time.

Link’s eyes widened at that. The spirit, which he’d nicknamed amulet, was still a mystery to him. Every time it entered the fray he felt helpless. Like a prisoner in his own body. He took a step back and lowered his head. Biting his lower lip as he looked down at the item in question. Placing a hand under it so he could look at it again. The lights of the hero’s spirits shining bright across the surface. Twilight, Wild and Worlds light’s shining dimly.

 The medallion was a warning and a burden, its golden surface a cruel reminder that he still had a lot to learn.

“uhh, guys.” Wind walked over to Link while the others locked eyes with each other. The tension cut with a knife. “Maybe you should wait…”

“Link.” Sky’s voice was immediately laced with guilt as he heard the spirit move around him. His eyes searched the walls below him and they met a small platform. About five feet below him. An eyebrow raised as he turned. “I shouldn’t have…”

“Now look what you’ve done.” Time stood with his arms crossed.

“I…. I didn’t.” Sky stuttered. Looking over to the man in question. Who was leaning over the edge of the platform. Having spotted the same one he had. “Link Wait!”

Link wasn’t paying attention to the spirit beside him. His eyes fixed on a platform below him as he moved around the pit slightly. Placing a foot right on the edge of the pit he took a breath.

Here goes nothing….

Link jumped onto the platform below him, and felt the feeling of shifting through a barrier. Another spirit barrier. The others wouldn’t be coming with him.

“Link!”  Sky’s voice above him he didn’t look up. “Link! Wait!” Slowly walking over to the edge of the ledge he was on allowed him to. He could do this. He could do this. He could…

Oh…. There was no platform there. There was no platform there! Nonnonononono.

He looked upward. Trying to see if he could jump back out. Taking a step back, The feeling of a plate pushing down startled him. He looked to his foot and spotted a pressure plate.

Oh no…

 The walls began to rumble and shake. The platform began moving. The sound of stone grinding as the platform began to retract into the wall from which it came.

“Oh nononono,” he slid backwards and scrambled to the wall. “Nononono, please stop please stop please stop.”

“Link! Link! To your Right!” Wind’s voice sounded over the noise. He looked up rapidly to see the hero of Sky pointing, “Down! And to your right!”

He looked right and saw another platform springing from the wall. A little lower. Panic rising he looked up to see Sky and Wind pointing to it. “That one! THAT ONE!” The spirits voice sounded worried. He appeared to be leaning down but recoiled as blue flames licked at his fingers.

He nodded, standing up on shaky feet he jumped down another five feet.

Another plate. Another shifting platform. As he jumped lower and lower.

The further we went the braver he became.

It was just jumping down a few stairs he’s fine. Well more than a few, but as sky said. He was a hero, right? He should be able to do this in his sleep.

Finally, he made it to the floor. Looking up from his spot he could still see the yellow glow of Sky and Time above him.

“Link! Are you okay?!” The sky hero’s voice echoed down the tunnel as the last of the platforms disappeared into the wall.

“Yes!” Hands to his knees he took a few deep breaths before straightening up. Looking around the walls were a deep grey, illuminated by the faint glow of lanterns dotted across the wall. The ground shifted around his feet, the sand falling away as he made his way around. Placing a hand to the wall he walked the pit’s perimeter to find a switch. But found nothing.

“There’s nothing down here!” He shouted up towards Sky who disappeared past the lip before returning. “I can't find a way up!” Looking across the walls they were decorated with random poles and circular patterns. He felt fear grip him.

Trapped. He was trapped.

“We can't get down to you from here!” Wind’s voice shouted down. “Think you can disable the spirit barrier somehow?!”

“I don’t think so!” He tried to keep his voice steady. Don’t want to panic Sky. “I’ll keep looking.”

“What do you see?!” Time also leaned his head over the pit, his face as stoic as ever.

“Just a bunch of Sand…” He looked to the floor and crouched. Brushing at the floor. More sand met him. The way it shifted made him pause. It didn’t seem all that deep. And there was an indentation buffed in the ground.

A door? A way out? Deeper into the ground. Great.

He began to dig around the edges of the square indented in the floor. If he just kept digging. And digging. And digging. Hoping He might find a way out of this mess.

His fingers brushed a latch as his digging became more frantic.

He revealed a door, and his eyes widened. “Guys! Guys, I found a door!”

His fingers latched the handle and pulled, opening a pit of darkness. The sound of sand falling into it filled his ears as the ground around him shifted. Looking into the darkness he could just about make out the floor below him. He’d have to jump into the pit, which would close the hatch…

A One-way drop.

“Sky! You guys better get back in the medallion!”

“What did you find?!” The Skyloftians's voice sounded. The outline of shining light filtered down towards him. A hand raised to his forehead as he squinted his eyes. “Are you okay?!”

“There’s a hatch in the floor!” Looking more closely he spotted carvings dotted across the wall.  “I think. I think Wind was right! I think it’s a temple!”

“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let's go!” Wind’s voice echoed around him as swirling wind shifted around him and light burst back into the medallion. His spirit shone as bright as ever along side the others.

The swirling sounds of fire and lightning echoing through the air rang in his ears as the spirits flew down the tunnel and nestled inside the medallion.

He wouldn’t be alone, he just had to remember that.

The door above him loomed red and blue dancing across the wall. He raised a hand to the surface and pushed. The door creaking forward darkness met him as he reached to his right. Looking between a red torch and a blue torch before grabbing the red torch, and holding it close to his chest as he took a deep breath. Walking into the darkness. One thought echoed through his mind.

Time for an adventure.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Febuwhump Day 2 - Solitary Confinement

Based on @zelda-the-sacred-realm's comic, particularly her lore about the Hero of Time! Hope you like it :)

The destiny of a Hero was to be alone.

Link knew that in his heart. He had accepted it, and that acceptance had made him stronger.

There was nothing else to be said about it. Loss and abandonment were so ingrained into his being at this point... what else could there possibly be? The harder his heart, the better. He had long since acknowledged that there was to be no companionship for him - friends were fleeting, and love even more so.

His resolve had been tested, once, when a young, scared Hero in the making had approached him on all fours, trembling and lost. At first the boy had been a disgrace to the title and legacy, trembling and lost as he was. He'd felt more like someone to protect than to teach.

But oh had he learned. The boy was quick, mature, courageous. Link had been so proud of him.

But then the boy had died. He'd died and Link had been powerless to stop it. And once again... he was alone.

The destiny of a Hero was to be alone. And so alone he remained.

Until one day, a new young man wearing the proud green approached his statue in the remote village, and destiny called once more. And though it beckoned him, and though Hyrule once again needed his help, he found himself surrounded by companions, and...

The destiny of a Hero was to be alone. Even with his dearest Hero back alongside him... he knew it was inevitable.

Link, the Hero of Time, had to focus on his duty. Everything else would leave him, as all things did.

[cryptidofthekeys]

Btw I am currently writing- im working on the Candybatz ship fic-

like- chat- I don't think y'all understand-

this is how many words are in it so far- plus with a bonus sneak peek

and there's gonna be even more than this

[megafreeman]

Its insane how SRTT and SRR are both terrible for slightly different reasons. This is why I propose we take bits and pieces from both games and create a new united storyline

[safyresky]

Warm Milk

(remember this poll? I sure did! This is the original shit I was talking about! Takes place a couple of hundreds of years after the events of Crystal Springs, Into the Shadows, etc. Some context: The dimensions between planes are thinning. Rosehaven is seeping into the living world, magibeans long dead returning to the world of the living—but for what purpose? Not even they know...)

(enjoy!)

___

Bianca padded down the stairs quietly. Eyes attuned to the dark, she trailed her fingers along the side table in the hall, gazing at the photos dotted about. Even in the lowlight, she could see how happy her daughter was in the photos she was in (laughing with Blaise, a little Jacqueline grinning in the bottom right, pointing; face pressed against those of the twins, the three of them grinning). And the ones she wasn't in (one of the twins stacked on one another, running down a beach; a candid shot of father and son caught up in a moment of laughter), Bianca could feel the love radiating from the photos.

She smiled to herself, continuing quietly down the hall. Every single bone and muscle creaked as she walked.

Bianca sighed, rubbing her lower back. I never thought I'd say this, but I do miss being dead, she thought to herself.

In Rosehaven, you didn't feel all the creaks of your bones and muscle pains and such. You felt fine. Safe. Okay. As young as you ever felt. As spry as Winter (senior) had been, despite looking as old as Bianca felt. Your body is there with you but it doesn’t age or degrade. You’re right as a flurry.

But back on this plane of existence…you felt it all and then some.

She sighed, turning into the kitchen. A light glowed above the sink. The dishes sat drying in the rack. A window was open, the sound of the wind rushing through the evergreen boroughs comforting. It was no mountain, but it was lovely regardless. It would do.

Quietly, she slid across the kitchen, pouring a glass of milk and staring at the contraption that supposedly warmed things with the click of a button. She squinted at it, rubbing her chin.

Perhaps she should wake her son-in-law? Or the grandkids? That is, the fiery ones, of course. It would be far easier for her to have them hold it for a moment rather than make the ruckus the. Contraption. Was sure to make.

She found the button to open the door. It went in with a deep crunch, the door swinging open with a loud bang that reverberated through the thing.

"Oh dear."

Straining her ears, she listened closely, hoping she hadn’t woken anyone.

Snores from upstairs. The wind. A soft voice? Murmuring?

Her ear twitched. She turned slightly, towards the right.

Her eyes readjusted. The table was empty; backyard door locked. The screen door, that is. The heavy door had been pulled all the way back, letting in the cold winter air. It smelt like the mountains.

Bianca made her way over, relishing in the breeze for a moment.

The voice was clearer now. She peeked outside; nothing and no one. Eyes travelling across the table, she peered into the cozy den.

A light was on.

Her ear twitched.

"AND he let me use his HAMMER MOMMA! The HAMMER!" said a delightful voice. Just hearing it made Bianca feel such joy. She crept closer to the den, head tilted towards the sounds.

"The HAMMER?!"

It was Jacqueline who was speaking now. Excited with a hint of panic. A tone Bianca found herself recognizing easily enough.

"YEAH! Hephaestus says I'm gonna make my own bow in NO TIME!"

"That's wonderful, sweetie!" Jacqueline replied, the smile in her voice loud.

"She's been taking to the change very well," a third voice said. Smooth and chipper, a hint of tired—but not quite. Hearing this voice made Bianca think of her Winter, wherever he may be.

Her heart panged.

"That's good! I'm glad," Jacqueline sounded relieved. "I'm really sorry about all this, love."

"It's okay! I'm just glad you're safe! We understand, don’t we, Joy?"

"Yeah! Safety is important! I learnt that today too," the child’s voice grew quiet, sounding proper chided.

"Did you now?"

"…yeah. I accidentally hit Hermes with a few arrows. He was a real good sport about it but I felt very bad and then Mater gave me the safety talk."

"We really should have done it sooner," the third voice spoke again.

"But! Better now than later, after she finds the lightning bolts! She was giving them the eyes earlier today."

Mater. Bianca ran the word through her mind. Greek, if she wasn't mistaken. For mother.

Jacqueline threw a hand up to her mouth, trying to mask her laughter. “Oh dear.”

This is wrong, Bianca, she thought to herself. Stepping back (having made her way to the arched entrance, lurking in the shadows), she walked towards the kitchen entrance, clearing her throat before reaching the den entrance again and knocking on the sideboard.

"Jacqueline?" she asked, peeking into the room.

He granddaughter shot up, pillows flying. "Oh! Hi Bianca. Everything okay?"

"I fear I've run into a problem. The contraption that heats things up? The little one."

"The microwave?"

She nodded. "How do you use it?"

"I'll be right with you. Just give me one sec!"

"Certainly. I'll wait in the kitchen." Bowing her head, Bianca backed up, keeping to the shadows between the two entrances.

The sprite curled back up, bringing the phone right up to her nose. The little display glowed, casting a dim light onto her face. The snow was gone from her hair, Bianca noted.

"Is that her?"

"Yeah. Technology problem."

There was a delightful giggle. "Off you go to save the day! My hero. I miss you.”

"We both do, Momma!”

Jacqueline smiled. “Awh. I miss you guys too.”

“I knew it!”

The loving voice laughed. “Alrighty, Joy. Say bye to Momma. She’s got a something cold to save.”

Jacqueline laughed. “It looked like it was a glass of milk.”

“She’s got a glass of cold milk to save!”

"Okay! I love you Momma!" the child's voice was filled with so much joy, Bianca could not keep back the smile that had snuck onto her face. It was hurting her cheeks. "I miss you! I hope I get to see you soon. I got a sword lesson and I wanna make one with you."

"Awwh, Joy! That's so sweet! I'll brush up on the blacksmithing just for you, okay?"

"Okay! I love you! KISSES! MWAH!"

"KISSES! MWAH! I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay! Bye Momma."

“Right, off you go! Go bug your grandad for a bit.”

“O-kay! Wee!”

Jacqueline laughed, watching the child run off, Bianca presumed. She pushed her hair off her brow, snuggling into the couch cushion. "She's doing okay?"

"She’s thriving! And wreaking so much havoc. That’s why we’re on Olympus now. Jupiter had enough so we’re hanging out with my mater’s side. Oh, Jacqueline, you’d be so proud! I know I am. She’s a hit over here!”

“Good! Good. I’m...glad.” Jacqueline’s smile dropped. She sighed, mussing her hair once more. “I’m so sorry about all this, Donnie.”

"Awh, babe, it's okay! You’re trying to keep us safe. We understand."

"I'll try to swing by tomorrow? If that's okay."

"Uh, duh! You're my WIFE! Why wouldn’t that be okay? I love you. I always want to see you.”

"And I you," Jacqueline smiled. "I'll see you soon, brown eyes."

"Not if I see you first, blue eyes."

Bianca tuned out, giving them space. Moments later, the blankets rustled.

"I know you’re still there, Bianca.”

Bianca felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She turned the corner sheepishly. “Sorry dear.”

Jacqueline smiled, leaning her head on the couch. "S’okay.” She pat the spot beside her with a slippered foot. “Come sit!"

Bianca obliged, sinking onto the couch. Her muscles thanked her. She sighed, falling back into the cushions.

"I miss being dead.”

"You WHAT?"

"Oh, sorry, Jacqueline. Sit back! I don’t mean it in a way that's concerning. I just…forgot how old and stiff my body was. I miss not feeling every single muscle every time I move."

"And warm milk helps with that?"

"Hmm? Oh!" she looked down at her glass of not warm milk. "Yes and no. It doesn't help my muscles. It helps my heart, though. Your grandfather said it was the cure for any ailment," she smiled fondly. "Lately I've been finding comfort in a warm glass of milk. It makes me think of him. But alas, your father went to bed before I could catch him and Lady only knows what would happen were I to wake your siblings."

"When they were younger, disasters! But now that they're older, they sleep like logs, for the most part. Just waking them up would be an impressive feat on its own!”

Bianca chuckled.

"You miss him, huh?"

"I do. And I worry for him," she admitted, bringing a fist up to her heart. "I don’t know where he is, or what he's doing. I know he's on this plane. But I can't…find him. And it hurts. Everything hurts. He'd love to see this. Knowing that your mother made a lovely life for herself? He'd be delighted! She found a love as true as ours," Bianca smiled down at her hands. "That's all we ever wanted for her. And I was so terrible! Afflicting you with the shard and sending you halfway across the world. Stealing her away from her family to try and bring back mine…and even after everything, you've all welcomed me here."

"Bianca. I gotta be real with you. In terms of blood relatives coming back from the far past? You're not the craziest we've seen."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Uncle Pyros is like, fifty shades of messed up. That guy is WHACK. But don’t tell dad I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me." Bianca sighed. "Those poor boys. I always hated being called to court. They never looked happy. Serafina was so strict; and Canicus was just as bad in other ways. I kept telling your grandfather, I said, you know, Winter, we could just snatch them up and take them home! And he'd say, he'd say, Bianca, we have our hands full with one, don't you think? Best not bring back old habits." she laughed. "We didn't, really. Your mother was a very calm child. Well. She was a child when we left; I've no idea how she was in later years, or for the rest of childhood."

Looking off into the distance, Bianca sighed.

"Well…from what I've heard, she's where we get most of our unhinged ideas from. The most chaotic of all the seasons as a kid. Still is to this day, if you ask my aunts."

"Oh, how delightful!" Bianca leaned back into the cushions, a soft smile on her face. "It's nice to see them both happy together. Your parents, that is."

"Makes you miss your hubby, huh?"

"We never did tie the knot, but yes! It does. Deeply. Achingly so, even.”

"I get it," Jacqueline wiggled against the couch, getting cozier. "I miss my wife."

That fond, loving smile was back on her face; so small and yet, filled with so much emotion.

"We did actually tie the knot. I mean, we were already referring to one another like that so we went, you know what? Frost it! May as well make it official! And then we did!" She shrugged. "The proposal went a little awry, but the wedding was nice! Especially since we found out we had a KID beforehand! Can you believe that? A whole entire KID. She was totally unplanned and I love her so much.”

“Oh, and I took you away from them, didn't I?"

Jacqueline nodded. "And I couldn't even remember them, because, you know, your mirror does that fun thing where it only makes you think of bad and sad thoughts? They were so fuzzy.”

Jacqueline smiled. "Magical objects just bring out the worst in people."

"I'm so sorry, Jacqueline. Really. I would never want to take anyone away from their families. That was a pain I'll never forget. Pain enough that it drove me to do that to you and your mother when I was shard-ed, just to try and restore my own."

"Indeed."

"Why do you even HAVE that mirror?"

"Cursed artifact that came into my possession when I was young. It splinters often, and the splinters get caught up all over the place, making people see only terrible, awful things. I used it in my younger years to do some truly bad things. Much younger, of course; I haven't been that bad since meeting your grandfather. I was glad it had come with me to Rosehaven. It wouldn't cause trouble ever again, I thought.” She chuckled coldly. “I thought wrong. Seems that was the worst place for it."

She opened her hands. The mirror appeared in them, empty but for two shards.

She sighed.

A warm hand landed on her knee. Bianca looked up.

Jacqueline was smiling at her, softly. Reassuringly. "We'll find him, and we'll find the shards.” She gave her knee a little squeeze. “I know you miss him. I miss my partner in crime, too! And I know you missed mom.”

"I'm glad to get to know her again. Odd to say but. Well."

"I kinda get it." Jacqueline pulled herself up a smidgen, phone clutched close to her chest. "Donnie and I had no idea Joy existed for about three years. She was born from the joy we both felt being reunited again after the proposal. I missed her baby years! Had no idea what she was like until recently."

"Hmm. I feel we have a lot more in common than just looks," Bianca mused.

"Indeed," Jacqueline replied, in an almost dead-on impersonation of Bianca's own accent.

She laughed. "I'm sorry I took you away from your wife and child. And still am, evidently."

Jacqueline shrugged. "This whole Rosehaven thing is weird. Scary, too. And after everything that happened to me? I don’t want to risk Joy. Or Donnie. She can handle herself of course, but I love her! I don’t want to see her get hurt. That's why I didn't mention them. I wasn't sure if you were…"

"Safe."

"Yeah.

"Wise. My reputation is. Quite terrible, really. Especially with children."

"Yeah, maybe gramps was onto something when he said not to bring back old habits."

Bianca laughed, looking at her granddaughter with a fond smile. "I'm glad you've found love, too."

Jacqueline scooched over the pillows, leaning up against Bianca. She put her phone in front of them, the screen blinking to life to reveal a photo.

There was a very tall, very strong woman. She was blonde, her hair tied up, laurels wrapped in the strands. She was beautiful. Jacqueline stood beside her. And between them, a small child, a tad darker than Jacqueline and a tad lighter than the woman. She grinned, a tooth missing, her strawberry blonde (emphasis on the strawberry) hair pulled up as well, falling right out of the scrunchie. Behind them was a big, feathery wing; and behind the girl was a smaller set of wings, looking more like butterflies than birds.

"That's the love of my life, Donnie. It’s short for Hedone."

"Hedone. That’s the Greek Pantheon…Goddess of…pleasure?"

Jacqueline flushed, nodding.

Bianca smiled. "And that's your little girl?"

"Joy. Embodiment of Joy. She's everything to me, goddess of the springs. The moment I met her, I was like, damn. I'd do ANYTHING for this kid. ANYTHING."

"I felt the same when your mother was born."

"Was she like, sick, or something?"

"Sick?"

"It's just," Jacqueline shifted, facing her grandmother with a look of placid curiosity. "I've heard that when she was born, there was something wrong? Or off, or something. I’ve only heard it offhand oh, once or twice. Nobody's ever explained it to me, and Mom doesn't even remember. So. I figured, you know, who better to ask than the person who birthed her, right?"

"Ah. Well, she wasn't sick. She was a miracle baby, though. See, I'd always wanted kids of my own. But I'd never managed to settle down with someone and have them."

"So you stole them instead?"

"Yes. And I used the mirror to do so. It's an ugly thing; it fell into my possession when I was quite young. It takes the beauty and love out of everything and makes you see only the bad. As you are, regrettably, well aware."

"You as well."

Bianca hummed. "When I finally did succeed, and the little boy's little friend came and found him, and saved him, I managed to cry the shard out of my eyes. And that's how Queen Frost found me. A pathetic, weeping mess in the highest reaches of the Nordic countries. She told me that I would find what I needed here in Crystal Springs; that it would heal the hurt. That I'd be safe. And…I was. But the hurt never left. See, the shard in my heart stayed put. And whenever a child would come near my domain, I'd keep them as long as I could, just to try and thaw my icy little heart."

"Oh. That's…how am I both heartbroken and appalled?"

"I am a woman of many talents, it would seem.” Bianca laughed, the laughter trailing off with a small exhale. “It's messy, I know. And it got messier still. Nothing worked. I was devastated; stayed up in the mountains with my storms and my lands and all that nonsense. I was there for eons…until your Grandfather entered my life."

Jacqueline watched as Bianca softened, her face lighting up. The mirror seemed to shudder; it did not like where her memories were going. It disappeared as she looked away, awash in them.

"Was it love at first sight?"

"Ha! No. I thought him annoying and irritating and all but blew him right off my mountain. But he was like one of your brother's stray animals. He just kept coming right back! One day, I found myself not blowing him off the mountain. And then I looked forward to his visits. And then I told him about the mirror and everything and he helped me gather the pieces and seal it away. And we fell in love, and one thing led to another and we found ourselves expecting. In the traditional way. By ordibeing standards, of course."

"Oh! So Mom was the first sprite to be born instead of made?"

"Yes, and no. It was the first any pair of sprites had managed to conceive a child on purpose. Emphasis on the on purpose. The only example they had to go off of was Fate-touched, so they had no idea how reliable that experience would be compared to this one.”

“That experience being?”

“The Twin Princes.”

“Oh! I didn’t know that! I just assumed they were made the way all sprites used to be made, you know?”

“The King and Queen tried, of course. Fate prevented it from happening like that. But it worked the other way.” Bianca shrugged. “Serafina was a rather clever warlock. She knew exactly what needed doing for a safe delivery and all, and got it done well before they were born. But your grandfather and I...”

“Would’ve had no idea, since it’s not like the monarchy shared these sorts of things. And given how sprites were made, it was probably to them like, one and done kinda deal, I’d bet. They assumed it would never happen like that again.”

“Ha! And your grandfather and I went and proved them wrong. They’d have hated that! They probably did.” She grinned. “At any rate, given the circumstances, healers monitored us closely; we didn't know what to expect. A sprite had never been formed like that naturally, you know. Lady only knew what would happen. But I tried very hard not to think about that. I focused on when I could feel her move about, and making a nursery, you know. All those things you do when you're expecting."

"I don’t know if I'd know that! We uh. We were NOT expecting at ALL when Joy showed up, dragging Jack Frostbitten Frost himself and Venus, goddess of frostbitten love, behind her, the three of them being pursued by the personifications of Despair and Sadness."

"Oh my."

"I know! I'd have loved to paint a nursery or have that whole build up to her arrival, but it was very sudden and violent.” She looked sheepish for a moment, running her hand through her hair and looking away. “I was very violent."

"Momma bear energy, yes?"

"Oh, big time. The moment Jack told me who she was and it all clicked and that connection was there, I just. I lost it. She's the personification of Joy, Bianca. Despair and Sadness wanted to consume her essence in the hopes that they'd feel something other than what they are."

"Oh. So you had a breakdown."

"Huge. I went feral. And in the end, as seems to be the case with this family, it was a hug that did it; Joy defeated Sadness and Despair with a hug."

"What an impressive child."

"She's so impressive. And she did that as a three-year-old. Which is HELLA impressive by sprite standards. Though she didn't quite age like a sprite? She is now, but she was aging like a human almost until she hit six. Regular six. Not six hundred."

"How old is she now?"

"Almost one hundred! I'm kinda relieved she seems to be taking after the celestial side more than the sprite side. I'm not sure I'm prepared for a century of trying to help her keep shape, followed IMMEDIATELY by a century of her keeping shape AND being a terror about it."

Bianca laughed. "The terrible two-hundreds."

"Mm. Mom and Dad say all four of us were pretty brutal, so I'm sure my kids will be no different. Sorry, I got so off topic. We were talking about Mom!"

"And then went into moms territory. Not off topic at all, sweetheart."

"But I wanna hear the rest of the story!"

Bianca laughed. "All right, all right. You don’t need to lose shape about it."

Jacqueline pulled a face. She lifted a hand, the entire thing AND her arm suddenly turning into snow as she tilted her head, crossed her eyes and went "BLARGH!"

Bianca wheezed. "Okay! I'm going! Pull yourself together, young lady!"

Cackling, Jacqueline's arm solidified. She curled up, snuggling back into the couch. "Okay. I'm behaving."

"You know, I don’t think you ever have."

"That's because you've been talking to Jack too much. He likes to play it up like I was the most troublesome thing around, but he definitely made it ten times worse."

"Now that I believe."

She giggled, her small smile reminding Bianca very much of a time when Winter was a child. A time well before The Call, before the repeat of her past mistakes, and before she was cast from Rosehaven for Lady knows WHAT reason.

"Bianca? You okay?"

She cleared her throat. Swallowed the emotion. Nodded. "As fine as can be, all things considered."

"We can stop if it's too much. I didn't mean to press."

"Oh! No. It's quite all right. Big feelings are big feelings. It's best we experience them. Least we steal children about it."

Jacqueline giggled.

"Where did I leave off?"

"Nursery. Prep work. That sorta thing."

"Right. Well…the time came, eventually. She was ready to arrive. And arrive she did. As a pile of snow and ice. Baby shaped, but lifeless. I…I sobbed. I sobbed, and sobbed, Jacqueline. I was beside myself. I refused to let her go, and your grandfather, bless his soul, stood by my side the entire time, and did not try to take her away from me. He did his own research; called Mother Gaia and her daughter, Tara. They came by and brought with them a life light. The thing you are given as a freshly made sprite to give yourself a form. They gave it to us, and it turned white as snow, and your grandfather and I placed it within Winter and she came to life, with the loudest cries. Oh, I was so, so relieved."

"She was brought to life. That was the miracle."

Bianca nodded. "And she was full of life. Very silly, a little goofball just like her father. And devastatingly savage when needed, just like her mother. She was smart and keen and we loved her to bits! It broke my heart, what we did. To think, fighting to keep our home safe for our daughter ended up with us losing her. And now I have that chance again, to know her, to love her…but it's been thousands of years. Thousands. Tara is far more her mother than I ever was. And my darling Winter Warlock isn't here to see any of it." Eyes downcast, Bianca looked at the cold glass of milk in her hands and sighed.

"Oh, here! Let me get that for you."

"No need, Jacqueline dear. I've got it."

Both winter sprites jumped a bit as Winter herself stepped through the archway, cloak draped over her arms. She placed it gently on the egg chair by the entrance, wiping something off of her cheek and cleared her throat. "Here. I can take it. I'll show you how the microwave works."

"Oh, it's quite all right, dear. I'm not even sure I really want it anymore—"

"Yes you do," both women said, in unison, in the same tone of voice. They looked at one another, giggling a little bit.

"You miss your boo thang, Bianca! Of course you'd want to indulge in something that makes you think of him!"

"I wouldn't argue with her," Winter agreed, gently taking the glass of milk out of Bianca's hands. "She's married to Cupid's successor. And has been having many sweets for the exact same reason you find yourself craving a warm glass of milk."

"Ah. I'm out numbered, it appears."

"And outwitted! Come on, up you go. Here." Winter offered her an arm. Bianca took it with a grateful look, gently prying herself out of the cushions. "Let's get those limbs of yours all warmed up."

___

Bianca let her daughter lead her into the kitchen. She tried not to lean on her too terribly much, but the support was…nice. They made their way to the microwave, stopping in front of it.

"The big button here opens it." Winter clicked it; there was a crunch and a low thrum and the door popped open again, the little light flickering on. "Just place the glass inside and click start a handful of times."

"A handful?"

"The number keys are preset. The one warms it for one minute, the two for two, and so on and so forth. The start button does thirty seconds which is usually all I need. Though I will admit, I don’t often use this thing. Usually I bring it to Blaise."

Bianca smiled. "I'd do the same, were I you. I briefly thought about it, actually, but didn’t want to wake him. He seems so stressed about this all…and the younger two? Goddess above. I daresay whatever would happen after waking them would be enough to send us all back to Rosehaven."

Winter laughed. "Fino and Fiera certainly are characters. They were worse in their younger years. I'm inclined to say they've mellowed out at sixteen hundred, but I'm not entirely sure I believe that. I don't think any of the four of them are capable of mellowing out, if I'm being honest."

Bianca chuckled quietly, gently closing the microwave door shut and tapping the start button three times. The noise it made nearly shook her bones; her jaw was most certainly knocking about.

"Dear me."

"Yes, it's a little loud. And a little too fancy for my tastes. But Jack was very excited about it, as was Blaise. I figured I may as well let them have their fun."

Bianca smiled.

Winter smiled back.

The microwave hummed behind them as the silence pressed on. Comfortable, but with something unspoken lingering between them as the microwave continued to tick down the seconds.

"How long were you—"

Bianca did not get to finish her sentence. The words were cut very suddenly as Winter wrapped her arms around her torso and pulled her in, squishing her very, very tightly.

"Long enough," she said, muffled against Bianca's chest. "I'm sorry."

"No." Bianca wrapped her arms around her daughter, cupping the back of her head and tilting it towards her, kissing the very top of it. "I am."

"Goddess above, that sounded so awful, I—" Winter lifted her head, looking up at her mother. "I couldn't even imagine any of that happening to me and my kids. I'd be beside myself."

"I was. And still am. And even though this situation is so messed up…perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I'm glad. I'm glad to see you living, thriving—" she smiled, wiping the tears off of Winter's face with both her thumbs. "It's all we ever wanted for you."

"I'd be devastated if it were me, and Blaise wasn't by my side to see everything the kids have done."

Bianca's grip tightened. She laughed. "It hurts, yes. Oh, I love him so much. He was my everything. Is my everything. I—"

"WAIT, HOLD ON. GRANNY BEE."

Her breath hitched as Jacqueline came sliding out the den, phone in her hand, looking frantic in an excited way. She'd called Bianca Granny!

"Jacqueline, careful!" Winter let go of her mother and reached out, grabbing Jacqueline before she could fall forward. "You know the kitchen is slippery in those socks of yours."

"I know, I know! But I just! Granny Bee." She caught her breath. "Hey. Hi. Woah. You okay?"

She sniffled, wiping away tears. "YES. GRANNY BEE IS JUST FINE."

Winter and Jacqueline shared a look. "O-kay…listen. I got an idea. I just need to ask you a few questions."

"Sure. Sure. Certainly." Another sniffle. The microwave beeped. "How can I help?"

Winter opened the microwave, passing Bianca the warmed milk. She nodded her thanks, taking a sip as Jacqueline started explaining.

"My wife. She's Cupid. Well, next in line to be Cupid. Right. Anyway, uh, because of that, she's really good at love stuff??? So HERE'S the THING. Would you say that the Winter Warlock is the—"

"Love of my life? My soulmate in all senses of the word? Partner in crime? My person?"

Jacqueline blinked. "Yes."

"Yes. Oh, absolutely, yes. That man. He's. I just—" her fingers tightened on her glass as she tried and failed to find the words to describe their love.

But for Jacqueline, apparently, that was enough.

She grinned, feral, whipping up her phone. "I knew it. Okay, so, I have this crazy idea. I think I know how to find him."

"What?"

"You do?"

"Yeah!" She put the phone up to her ear. "If you're okay with it, Mom. I know things have been kinda tough? I don't want to throw the other parent at you when you and Granny B are still working sleet out."

"Oh! Yes! Of course! If you're comfortable with it, Winter dear."

Winter's brow furrowed as she thought about it for a moment. "Well. I think before I know how I feel about that, we'd have to see if we even can find him first. And then, given the state you were in, Bianca…what state he's in."

"And if he has a shard in his eye, or worse, his heart…I shudder to think what part he'd be playing in this mess."

"Oh?"

Bianca nodded. "He was a brilliant warlock! Is a brilliant warlock. His mind…I believe Fiera would call him a giant nerd. Given that, and how he was like back before he met me, before he met Kris, even…I both hope and fear that he knows more about what is going on than all of us."

"Then we better go frostbitten find him, eh? How do we feel about a ladies trip to Mount Olympus…"

[alphawave-writes]

Till Eternity Do Us Part | Ahti x Director Theodore Ash Sr

A meet-cute bittersweet story about the blossoming if strange relationship between Ahti and Director Ash Sr, from beginning to end to beyond

[katyspersonal]

If I had a nickel for every time a person that quite seriously helped with public slandering and humiliating me for fake ass reasons, supported drastically ableist stance on me and took the side of my stalker (that also I remind you bullied other fans for headcanons) then got upset and "insulted" at the fact that I vented about how much they hurt me and my friends, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but what the actual fuck.

Like... Maybe consider not spyoning on a blog of a person that "makes you uncomfy"? You will be happier if you don't check up on things and people you hate, seriously. And if you do, why you act so shocked that I express my pain and disapproval of your actions and mindset, the very same that hurt me and my friends? In fact, why DOES it hurt you to learn what I think and feel after your words and actions? Why do you CARE about feelings and opinion of a person you despise and disrespect so much that you deemed them worthy of all this, and even their friends deserve to be hurt by association? Like... NOW you consider my feelings? Of course I fucking disapprove of backstabbing me and my friends after over month of pretending to forgive me. Of course I fucking disapprove admission that you are willing to help slandering and humiliating a person that you were not even scared and hurt by. I wrongly assumed that if you hated me that much, I must have actually done something wrong, but now I know I still didn't because you admitted that you were willing to harm someone and even shun their friends without even as much as hard feelings, because they are a "heretic"?

Is what hurts that I had very high opinion on you and then flipped on a dime when something drastic came out? But isn't it the same way for you? Didn't you both like my blog and thought I was cool and then one day it was over? I think it is safe to assume that unfortunately it can work like that. And everything can be fixed and worked into neutrality and 'cold peace' coexistence, but you don't want that. You'd rather keep getting upset and self-isolate from everyone that likes my company, or isolate them from me, so this hole just keeps growing and growing and all good things that could have been keep falling into it. Or you really expect me to leave just because of all this? When I was a kid and a teen and a bit of a young adult, I've dealed with bullying to the point of having literal stones thrown into me, and never once I avoided the places where it was happening. Because it made no logical sense that some jerks could decide who belongs or not belongs in a place that is for everyone. I tried to enjoy my time anyway. I was not, listening and enduring all that, but I tried. Sometimes I'd get really bad for me and I'd snap and fight back, and I remember they were scared when I did because anger of cornered rat is a terrifying thing you know? One time it got especially bad with one of them and I snatched the bat from her hands and smacked HER over the face, worse than she hurt me but I've had enough. Then finally adults bothered to get involved, and what I received from the bullies was "but why didn't she just leave this area? :(" Why the question is "why won't you go away?" instead of "why I feel entitled to bully out a person that didn't even do anything bad to me but just makes me uncomfy with not being like us?"

In the end, I walked a full circle. Some autists just have a power of bringing out the worst in people with how much they don't understand unspoken social cues, cultural rifts, even the language and semantics often times. I have a friend with similar problem, he had a bad luck of using combination of words that make people go blind from rage without meaning to, and you find out he actually made a perfect logical sense after talking to him for context and reasoning. I thought it was a curse, but it is a blessing. I decided I will never fix what is "wrong" with me, if it really helped to separate fakers from real ones in such a short time. Without it, I'd be friends with traitors, cowards, bullies, fools, conformists and stalkers. And the worst part, I would not ever learn it.

Yet again: you are NOT harmed by me venting in MY blog about how I was hurt by your words and actions. If you two were okay with slander and public humiliation of someone and their friends, sure you must be okay with someone venting about actual harm. Or else you have double standards. You are not supposed to care about what I think about you either, you are supposed to crawl into your Discord groups to share screenshots of my posts and mock me there for "being so butthurt" like your kind of people always does. And if you do not want me to hold grudges, you've had enough chances to neutralize me. I was not having you blocked for a good reason. But you chose to keep throwing stones. Too bad for you, I've been trained for this shit, when your spoiled soft asses cry harm and trauma over a single slightly negative experience. Heck, over even reading something you don't like!

Here is a thing: I do not namedrop you. I only namedropped two people when it was relevant, and only because they made themselves public first so I didn't "out" them. And if some people read "he reblogged posts bullying me 50 times too often and was too eager to hate on me, like to the point it was scary" and instantly think of you, then consider what reputation you have. Why? Why? Why you'd throw me (and. my. FRIENDS.) to the wolves and then get angry that I react? Tell me why! It is your problem that you are willing to harm people willy-nilly without considering their feelings or bothering to actually learn whether they deserve stalking and bullying and their friends getting collateral damage, and in the end you don't even have the honor to be genuinely mad and scared as your motivation for it. It is """not personal""". So getting unhealthy obsession with helping slandering me was "not personal"? So acting oh-so-supportive towards my friend who got to talk about her identity and then instantly dropping her upon learning she was interacting with me, after previously having been thankful to her for being one of the first to support YOU, was "not personal"? And the worst thing, I believe it. This is just your Tiktok generation of cruel, overly-judgemental people. You did not get to learn about real life and real relationship and real complexities, and you never will. And I was such a fool doubting myself thinking that you were scared of me.

So tell me why. Tell me why NOW you care what I think of you? Why you care that I vent in MY blog, without namedropping? Why you care what I say and feel if I am nothing but a name of "heretic" to block and pass along for you, a person you don't know and don't think has feelings and nuance worthy of considering before mistreating? Why do you CARE about my opinion? Is this because I effects your self-image? But I am just a stupid bigot in your eyes, so how can my opinion have any power or credibility for you? Are you scared that people will find out? But I do not namedrop! Are you upset that "I don't know you" to say such things? But you do not know ME, and yet that didn't stop you from accepting and helping to spread extremely hateful and uncharitable headcanons about my personality, beliefs and motives your friends crafted, so clearly you are okay with "saying things"? Why? TELL ME WHY! Tell me how it is supposed to hurt you, because it does NOT! The worst I can do is to yell at you and run away crying, and I didn't even do THAT!

Unless I just did, because yet again you decided to sneak around and check my blog. Dude, you hate acknowledging my existence to you point of abandoning mutuals that answer my asks, so why would you check my blog? Just don't do that? Just not check it? There were 4 coincidences about your art that made me think that you were snooping on my content, I am helpful with the lore I know, and took some stuff for inspiration, and one time was passively-aggressive about how I drew a certain female character. But I've got a relief that no, they were all coincidences, and you were not stalking me. So now I have to worry about it again? So I should give into my paranoia, because there was a reason in the end?

Just go away, okay? Just go away. The alter that grew from guilt and pain, and admiration, that you've triggered, is dead, anyhow. It was painful and felt like getting the whole entirety erased and written again, but it's done, so you don't have to worry about it either. Just not sneak on a person you dislike, because, again, me venting without namedropping won't effect you, nor you should care what "just another heretic" thinks. I am not a human for people like you, after all your drama-hungry kind does, and stop pretending that I am. My friends aren't either, they are just "traitors" that refuse to cooperate for your group, and I hate every single conformist bastard that blocked them by association. Not you, them. I won't have a gaslighting of "it is not us vs them!!!!" when actions speak louder than words, and all effected people know what they did.

So far I do not have an incentive to stop digging myself deeper into a hole of "wronged intellectual" self-image, which is a bold claim for someone with quite large intellectual disability as myself, I know. But none of this makes any sense, and doubting that maybe I just don't get something about people availed me nothing. I do get it, society IS just as bad as it seems, deny it or not.

[nonclassyparty]

how would u guys feel if i wrote a little spin-off for starring role!seonghwa?

[warriorrazor]

Something I've wanted to ask. Is Streber alive in the Spooky Family AU? ;w;

Yes!! He is alive and well! For the most part at least- I’ve thought a bit about it because Streber is one of my fave characters. In fact, I have some rambles about him that I wrote a bit ago!

Alright, so, Streber survived the Bob attack.

In the SF AU Ethan is his roommate, and was the one who discovered Streber injured on the ground. He’s also the first guy to visit Streber at the hospital, the first chance he could. They’re very close.

And I also like to imagine that all of Streber’s buddies are also a super tight knit group, so all of them try to visit as soon as possible as well. As a whole group.

Streber has a lot of trauma by what went down. But his buddies help keep him sane and really put in the time to help him with whatever he needs. I can imagine they’re helping Streber pay for things and he’s like “no” and they’re the kinds of friends to all be like “yes actually shush.”

Additionally, when Halloween starts to roll around the next year, Streber is incredibly hesitant to do anything involving the haunted house, or really just going outside for Halloween in general. Because, y’know, that’s where stuff went down. BUT his friends are like yo dude what if instead of the haunted house we just have an epic movie night and binge horror movies. And they agreed on that. Until Streber started to think it over and decide that he wanted to give his trauma a big fat middle finger, and like 2 weeks from Halloween he was like guys we’re doing this get your costumes.

And so they all did.

Also, Streber’s cape got too much blood on it to be used again, and it had to be thrown out. No more green screen cape. But to make up for that, his friends sewed him up a new cape, and instead of a bright green, the inside of the cape was a dark black, but covered in bright white stars. Like a lil galaxy. And suddenly, Streber could be himself again.

So Streber was in his usual position in front of the haunted house, but I’d like to think Ethan would also be there instead of inside so he can make sure Streber’s doing okay.

Because he’s still healing, more mentally then physically at this point, he’s often got eye bags from nightmares and insomnia, and disheveled hair. Trauma doesn’t just disappear overnight, but when you have a bunch of friends who would do anything for you, things become just a bit easier.

[oohbuggypie]

FOR ONE LINE OF LYRICS THATS ONLY SEVEN WORDS LONG ... AND 5 MORE AFTER THAT .... AUGHHHH

[fromtheseventhhell]

*Sigh* Here I was thinking that Arya as one of the key five characters, one of George's personal favorites, and one of the characters he's written the most for would end up being important in the end. Good thing Tumblr user "no-I-didn't-read-the-books-why-do-you-ask" kindly explained to me that Arya is going to quietly fade into the background and become irrelevant. As much as it hurts to come to terms with it will save me from pain down the line 😔

[problematicpunks]

"well why didn't you age them up into their thirties and forties?! Gotcha!!!"

I think you'll find that age range tends to not hang out at the mall and if they were to it would be a vastly different story with the characters at vastly different stage of life from the vibe of the show???

[drifloonz]

The multiple miki thing might be because Miki could've been based on Charizard M and that thing is known for cloning itself.

Tbh i cant fault shadowmalerenamon for completely changing doors open when rewriting it. Having missingno be the main antagonist was miles better than how Steve was in the original.

( mention of suicide ig )

i respectfully disagree . i see where you're coming from but i think all of the rewritten strangled... duology i guess bc strangled red itself never got one

( thank fucking god to be honest. it needs No change. although at the same time its kind of funny it never got one bc its the most popular one and going more into him as a Person if smr didnt fuck it up would be nice ... but im too attached to my own interp based off of his canon implications to care about what smr kind of has to give. and he already did that in og strangled red, to a degree, although it focuses on the tragedy there is character stuff to be extrapolated from the implications of the story if youre very deeply ill. like me. )

- is a lot less character-focused, at least on steven specifically, and is focused on explaining or rewriting shit that never needed to be explained or rewritten. it is a revisit and reinterpretation of the story, that to me, is just purely kind of . Not good or fun to read. and the new shit it introduces is fucking stupid imo. steven being banished by the town instead of... fucking. killing himself ( especially specifically by cop. that's lame and way more boring + FUCK THE POLICE !!! + It feels out of character for steven he would just do it himself like actually. Also yk. hanging yourself is narratively thematic and ironic. ) or whatever goes so much harder .

guy who loves his town and home region and wanting to be a role model and wanting to be cool so badly being driven mad and then the entirety of kanto, his homeland, forsaking him and walling him off goes crazy . Also because it implies they're scared of him to some degree which also makes me go crazy as an implication.

[ more put below bc i love to fucking yap about strangled red and how much i dont like the rewrites ]

i Will not step down from 'the rewrites arent good' . Doors open is mostly bad because stevens characterization is garbage. even though its random and from left field ( why the fuck is he in sprout tower ) it couldve been handled well if it was written better characterization-wise.

also i supposed the 'M charizard makes sense. not. not really i don't actually think smr thought that through. if he did, which he couldve because she is named #'M# in Strangled Red, cool, but i still think it's just to make the "miki" name thing with 4 party members he has. which is cool admittedly. it's just that i hope it is never explained why he has 4. and it never has since, doors open rewrite didnt do anything with that thank god.

and bc he wouldnt have any other mon other than miki post-incident and afaik that thing only replaces existing partymembers, and steven canonically releases all his team in SR + pokemon avoid him. but yea. Doors open i treat as a 'spinoff' in a sense bc nothing from it really makes sense when properly thought through, and its basically there to make the lost silver crossover i feel. also, yk, he literally says "Never." in strangled red when you press switch on 'M / missingno/revived/whatever you want to call miki post revival. its kind of out of character for canon-compliant steven to have anything other than miki post-incident for these 3 reasons - i only made a team for him post incident bc im autistic about pokemon and pokemon teams so that was for fun.

basically it makes more plotholes and questions than not the more strangled reds plot stuff tries to be explained or added upon esp in the remakes which i think are not fun reads if you like steven as a character anyways. and also bc strangled and doors open in the ogs are easter eggs. trying to explain what is supposed to be an in universe easter egg in pokemon would obviously be kind of a lesson in futility. not. not exactly but at least in the way smr does it.

strangled makes sense, you just go to his fucking house and hes there. yea. doors open is like. Yea hes in johto now. dont ask. but its also easily explainable as... He just fucked off to johto. For what reason? idk. hates kanto bc theyve forsaken him and banished him to the Woods, just wanted fresh air i guess, or just for fun. these are all more plausible reasons.

iirc the rewrite doesnt even say why hes there and if it does the reason is convoluted and not needed. i think its just 'hes a ghost hallucination... thing??? following the mc which is the most boring route to go for with steven and the most uninspired thing ever, and missingno was not the antagonist just a plot device in the og story Why are we focusing on it so much.' and its still a plot device in the rewrites! it isnt explained ( good the explanation would be kind of awful ) and i cant see any good way to explain missingno other than the way i do as a fun idea. which is biased but the 'failed clone of mew number 3' is a fun idea.

this is an insane ramble from a deranged person. if you can't tell i fucking love steven as a character and smr does him dirty except in strangled red, really. strangled... is fine but bc he barely talks in that one and when he does its like. yea. that checks out.

no hate to you btw none of it was directed at you specifically just smr and strangled reds various canons. you just gave me an excuse to ramble about how much i dislike the remakes tbh. I fucking LOVE analyzing why i hate things esp involving steven bc hes not greatly written by his og creator and not often greatly written by the fandom either .

[thingswhatareawesome]

¨