#i'm not actually dead i've just been very busy

[petal-dancer28]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Yusei's Dad/Yusei's Mom, (past) hideo izayoi/setsuko izayoi Characters: Izayoi Hideo, Bruno | Antinomy, Ushio Tetsu, Yusei's dad, Yusei's mom, Izayoi Aki, Fudou Yuusei Additional Tags: body horror-implied, human experimentation-implied, Angst, Heavy Angst, Yusashi is a good father figure, Hideo is not, Hideo has a drinking problem, Lore - Freeform, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Yusei has good parents who love him, aki isn't refered to by name but is present, Arcadia is hella shady, Soul Eater AU, will fix tags and title later im so tired, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping Series: Part 1 of Side stories: Soul Eater AU Summary:

You never know what one may find in the dumpsters near the Eastern Gate joining Satellite Bay, only steps away from the Eastern Shore subway Station. For one, it's never a good thing.

[starwonderz]

meechi. appears in front of you in a cloud of confetti and ribbons

[afniel]

I am cursed with the absolute inability to even reference a thing that I don't know enough about, because someone could see me being wrong and I don't want to disappoint them, which is why I am watching the original Godzilla (1954, subtitled) on one screen and doing some pixel art on the other and doing some writing under that (days when my ADHD meds work are very strange to me. Who is this Motherfucker Unlimited who can multitask like this and how is he possibly me), and I am like, ridiculously pleased with how much I do not need the subtitles for any of this.

[jawnwicks]

Some of the most important parts for me:

“Friendships are built of repeated low-stakes interactions and returned bids for attention with slowly increasing intimacy over time.”

"Deeper friendships are formed with people from those kinds of groups when you do things with them outside of the context of the original interaction."

"Smalltalk is a social script of exchanging trivial conversation about non-personal topics in order to pass a brief period of time together.

This sort of conversation is about figuring out whether you want to get to know each other better, so it's kind of a behavioral test. It's assessing "can I have a pleasant, brief conversation with this person?" because people usually want to know if the answer to that question is "yes" before they share more details of their lives."

"If the person speaking responds to your sharing of personal information with a request for more information (asks about your sister) or by sharing some of their somewhat more personal information (roses are blooming) they might be interested in continuing to gradually share more information. If they respond with more smalltalk, they probably aren't interested in becoming closer friends ... [but] maybe at some point they'll share something with you and it'll be your turn to decide if you want to get to know them better."

"Once you've seen someone several times, you will begin to know little things about them. ... If you want to become friends with them, ask them about these things and offer information in return. Start casually and don't pry for more information, and be sure to share about yourself as well. Eventually you will get to the point that you can have a comfortable conversation on topics of shared interest for at least a few minutes."

"If they agree to meeting up for the thing, they are interested in continuing to develop the friendship. If they don't want to meet up then continue at the same level of interaction as before and perhaps later on down they line they'll ask you if you want to plan a meetup."

"Once you have hung out on purpose a few more times you've got two choices: set a regular meetup, or hang out elsewhere. Setting up a regular meetup is the relatively casual option here; it keeps things in the same location and keeps the context of the friendship the same while still increasing interactions and intensifying the relationship. You can have perfectly good, if somewhat casual friends, who you see regularly in one place and rarely outside of that place."

"Hanging out in a new place changes the context of the relationship; suggest a hangout in a place that makes sense for the mutual interests you've learned over the previous months of getting to know the person."

"If you’re talking about the weather as in the first example, but you mention where you grew up and what the weather was like, that can be inspiration for the other person to also talk about where they’re from! But, unlike with a question, if they don’t want to share that information they can usually dodge it without having to make it extremely obvious that that’s what they’re doing."

Wait, so you said that you can learn to trust others by building friendships, but how does one go about doing that? Wouldn't someone I don't know be creeped out or annoyed if I suddenly walked up and started talking to them?

Friendships are built of repeated low-stakes interactions and returned bids for attention with slowly increasing intimacy over time.

It takes a long time to make friends as an adult. People will probably think you're weird if you just walk up and start talking to them as though you are already their friend (people think it's weird when I do this, I try not to do this) but people won't think it's weird if you're someone they've seen a few times who says "hey" and then gradually has more conversations (consisting of more words) with them.

I cheat at forming adult friendships by joining groups where people meet regularly. If you're part of a radio club that meets once a week and you just join up to talk about radios, eventually those will be your radio friends.

If there's a hiking meetup near you and you go regularly, you will eventually have hiking friends.

Deeper friendships are formed with people from those kinds of groups when you do things with them outside of the context of the original interaction; if you go camping with your radio friend, that person is probably more friend than acquaintance. If you go to the movies with a hiking friend who likes the same horror movies as you do, that is deepening the friendship.

In, like 2011 Large Bastard decided he wanted more friends to do stuff with so he started a local radio meetup. These people started as strangers who shared an interest. Now they are people who give each other rides after surgery and help each other move and have started businesses together and have gone on many radio-based camping trips and have worked on each other's cars.

Finding a meetup or starting a meetup is genuinely the cheat-code for making friends.

This is also how making friendships at schools works - you're around a group of people very regularly and eventually you get to know them better and you start figuring out who you get along with and you start spending more time with those people.

If you want to do this in the most fast and dramatic way possible, join a band.

In 2020 I wrote something of a primer on how to turn low-stakes interactions with neighbors and acquaintances into more meaningful relationships; check the notes of this post over the next couple days, I'll dig up the link and share it in a reblog.

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[often-daydreaming]

Sanctuary

Buzz...

Buzz...

Buzz...

'Hel-' 'I told you I was okay mom, you need to stop texting me so much.' Danny? 'I'm still at the library near Nightingale Drive but I promise I'll be home soon.'

Dinah was out of her chair and hurrying towards the nearest teleporter before he could finish speaking and inadvertently startling a few nearby heroes as she pushed past them.

'Dinah?'

'Dinah, what's happening.' Oliver called out when he noticed her leaving.

'Danny, a kid I've been mentoring just called using one of the codewords we came up with for emergencies.' And it must have been bad if Danny was calling her this late at night but at least he was using the phone she got him so it only took a few seconds to pull up his location through the built in tracker.

Huh...

What in the world was Danny doing in Star City?

It didn't matter. Not right now. She'd ask later but for now she was busy punching in the right coordinates while Oliver ran to grab his own gear.

-_- -_- -_-

It didn't take long to find him. The kid, Dinah's boy was hiding in a coffee shop a few blocks away from the library he was using for his cover story so Oliver stayed back for now and watched from his hiding spot on a nearby rooftop as Dinah hurried into the shop playing up the role of a worried mom.

She was good at it.

Nobody gave her a second glance as she pulled the kid into a hug while muttering soft reassurance that doubled as codewords. He knew some of it meant danger and alone but he was too far away to make anything else out and Dinah angled the kid in a way that kept him and anyone else watching from reading their lips.

And he got it.

He really did.

From his bloodshot eyes to the sway in his every other step it was obvious from just a glance that the kid was dead on his feet. He'd more than likely been running for a while now and was one soft breeze away from collapsing so the last thing he needed was a complete stranger coming out of nowhere and questioning him but that still left Oliver with a dozen different questions as he listened to Roy going over everything they could dig up on such short notice which wasn't much.

It looked like somebody had gone through a lot of trouble to erase Amity Park's existence but a few things managed to get through like news covering the Fenton's home being raided by the government and Vlad Masters' very public, very messy custody battle with the older sister. Both of them were seen accusing each other of everything and anything, screaming insults and overly creative threats, and on more than one occasion the police had to pull Jasmine off of Masters who kept paying her bail but there was nothing explaining the hows or whys behind everything going on.

I know it isn't much but I just had the thought of Danny's parents getting arrested for whatever reason really but I'm going with their change of heart after a reveal gone right for this prompt. They shut everything down and stop making weapons that can actually hurt magical beings and a lot of influential people don't like that leading to a police raid while Jazz is away and forcing Danny to reach out to Dinah who could be his anything really from one of those online therapists to a godmother who tries to help him figure out his powers.

[tiny-space-platypus]

Never really fit back in

Part 2 Daniel or Danyal or Danny?

previous

Danyal took a deep breath. There was only one person who could bring him to his brother. One person who could get him into the Wayne household. Vlad Masters, his godfather, though things were getting better with Vlad it was still awkward. He doubted he'd ever fully trust him but he was the only adult around who knew what he was and at least for right now wasn't trying to kill him for it. Plus he had access to the Wayne Galas and as his heir Danny did too.

"Daniel" Vlad smiled at him and offered him a seat at his table. "I was quite surprised when you asked to have a meeting with me" Danyal took a seat as dinner was served to them. He hesitated before speaking. Danny had been trying to prepare what to say to Vlad all day but now he was here, his mind went blank.

"I-" He paused as he pursed his lips before stealing his nerves once again. "I'd like to take up your offer of being your heir." Vlad stopped moving for a second as his smile faltered. he stared at Daniel. The silence was deafening. Danyal continued or well rambled after an uncomfortably long few minutes of silence. "The Fenton household hasn't felt safe in.. Well it's never been safe but ever since my accident it's just gotten worse. The house is always attacking me, even though my parents- Even though Maddie and Jack know I'm Phantom now that hasn't stopped them- actually I think they've just been ignoring me. And-"

"Daniel,"

"Since Jazz left for college, I've only really had Sam and Tucker but-"

"Daniel"

"They're now busy preparing for their own futures and all that-"

"Daniel!" Vlad spoke a little louder silencing Danny again then sighed. "I will gladly take you in, Daniel. It's the least I can do for you" Danyal relaxed a bit, though not too much. Vlad might be better now but he's still a power hungry fruitloop. Danny still had to be careful but at least Vlad's manor wasn't actively trying to destroy him. At least Vlad acknowledged his existence. And so Danny's new life began.

A few new changes happened after he started to live with Vlad. One he changed his legal name to Danyal (it just felt more real), he and Vlad still argue over changing his last name over to Masters but Danny's not ready for that. Danny had to start taking etiquette classes from both Dorothy and Vlad, Vlad had gotten him plenty of suits and other more comfortable clothes, and Danny had full access to his lab. Though Danny didn't go down there often, it gave him the creeps in a bad way. Most labs did at this point. Instead he had taken over a large room and had a work desk where he tinkered on what ever her felt like tinkering on, or schoolwork, or the loads of paper work he had to do for the Infinite Realms. It was kind of nice having Vlad help with that though at least someone could explain what half of it meant and wasn't as secretive as Clockwork.

Four months passed and things were going great actually. Things were finally starting to feel alright again, maybe this was the best decision. Eventually Danny did tell Vlad about being Damian's brother only because he would have to confront Damian at the Wayne Christmas gala.

----------------------------------------------------------

Damian just like his other siblings dreaded the galas but they were important. It was important to keep building relationships with the public and the rich. It was important to keep a mask on and play the very rich found family of Brucie Wayne. It was important to keep their night life out of the picture.

Damian got ready with his siblings as usual. He listened and complained with them about the Gala as Jason laughed and praised being "dead". At least being the youngest meant he wasn't as bothered by the guests as the rest of his siblings were. All he had to do was introduce himself to the guests, have his picture taken a thousand times and lurk around the party. A boring night that would be much better spent on patrol. Though he was just has confident that the others could Patrol Gotham without them as his father.

The gala was about normal, he greeted guests with his father as Tim went out to do some networking. Dick playing as his usual self, Cass lurking around, Steph tormenting people by being her eccentric self, and Duke wandering around and making small talk. The night was normal till Masters arrived.

By that point Damian had broken off from his father and went to see and spend time with his siblings. Though something felt off after about a half hour. Damian went to report this to his father only to find him still speaking with Masters who had a boy with him. He paid no mind to him. "Father there's-" Damian paused then looked at the boy standing next to Masters who was smiling at him.

Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal.

Damian just stared at Danny with a look of horror that his father caught quickly. Before Bruce could pull Damian away he heard his brother speak.

"Hello, Damian. It's nice to see you again"

----------------------------------------------------------

Bruce had never seen his son like that before. He had never seen that look on his son's face before. Something had to be wrong he just didn't know what yet. Bruce excused both himself and Damian from the Masters and brought Damian over to the others. He looked at his son who looked both terrified and shell shocked. Bruce spoke softly.

"Damian, are you alright chum?"

Damian started to hyperventilate and mumble in Arabic. Damian normally spoke in Arabic when upset but this was very clearly different. Bruce brought Damian to his room, not because he was in trouble but because he was freaking out and needed some quiet. That night for the first time Damian openly cried in front of Bruce. That night for the first time Damian held onto Bruce like his life depended on it and sobbed. That night for the first time Damian sobbed into his father.

Bruce didn't know what the Masters did to his son but they won't get away with it. That he swore. He'll have Tim and Barbara look into them later for now his son needs him.

Next

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Don’t know if you take writing prompts so if you don’t feel free to ignore this I have an idea for a dcxdp crossover ghost hunger au ( but only if you want otherwise it’s just Danny being able to eat anything and everything literally )ghost prince Danny au Redeemed Vlad au Vlad x Maddie x jack 

 Halfas were mistaken for a lot of things in mythology and being very rare they were often considered the “special ones” of whatever species they were mistaken for and the last halfa before Vlad was the one that inspired the novel of Dracula Yes there are vampires, but the one from the story of Dracula was not a vampire

Anyway, Danny trying to hide from the GIW decides to lean in on the mistaken identity, and what better city to do that in then Gotham, the one rumored to have monsters already patrolling its streets anyway Danny, gets mistaken for a vampire and Danny decides to roll with it setting up shop in an abandoned cathedral while trying to get the undead of Gotham back into the zone ( Grundy, the talons, Jason, and possibly a few others)

And Vlad occasionally has him going to galas for business (and practice for when Danny is the ghost king ) and of course, Danny continues the vampire act there too tone down, but still enough to give off an otherworldly vibe

I love this idea! I think I've only ever seen one other story about fake vampire Danny.

I'm not really able to write an actual story with world building or anything nice like that (trust me I've tried not pretty🫠😆), my stuff is usually just gibberish that I clean up a bit before posting, so I'm really sorry if you wanted an actual mini story.

~

But I'll try to do a little prompt!

~

Tell Me What I Am

There had been some odd rumors going around Gotham.

Those who were more sensitive said that the dead becoming aware, most didn't pay much truth to all that was being said.

Still everyone was more alert feeling like the entirety of Gotham was in the presence of something Other.

~

Jason didn't enjoy going to the galas when he was young and now as the recent 'No Longer Dead Wayne Child" he was forced to go once again.

He looked around trying to avoid all the rich snobs that were trying to push their daughters practically into his arms

He snorted at his thoughts, "Very much not my type."

Distracted he bumped into someone and oh-speaking of his type.

~

Danny didn't mean to bump into someone especially the guest of honor of the gala but it had been a while since he was able to properly eat something that actual filled him up and not just distracted his mind a bit before it came back,

So forgive him for being distracted and-

oh

oh?

Oh!

"You smell divine" he mumbled in between his suddenly overly sharp teeth

"..Wha-Thanks I guess?"

Danny's foggy mind suddenly snapped back into sharp focus once he felt Vlad call for him.

He quickly fled from the man

' Shit I almost bit him what the hell! '

~

Jason thought back to the night of the gala

"Hey B, do the Masters seem...odd to you?"

Bruce glance up from his work

"Did something happen?"

He thought about the sharp fangs suddenly in the young man's mouth alongside his comment feeling almost like prey under his intense gaze that pinned him in place with the sheer hunger and want in them.

How the older man pulled him away but not before Jason saw his eyes flash red for barely a second.

"....Maybe."

~

Just an Idea

Hope this was to your taste Anon!

[carmenized-onions]

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life—                    Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

 You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?��� ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.   

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> speed isn't all that matters

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 1.6k TW: slightlycold!wonwoo, tiny sliver of angst (we're getting there!), overworking, passing out, FLUFF, comfort italics are interview moments cut between other scenes a/n: second htr! we're starting that landslide into the angst (ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ ) they are so cute in this omgomgomg

Wonwoo sat awkwardly on the pedestal, doing his best to balance while still posing for the camera.

"We had a lot of photoshoots and interviews while touring in Japan." Wonwoo explained to the camera. "Feels like we were posing for photos everywhere."

Wonwoo stood up once the photographer had finished his series of shots. He was tired and couldn't wait to get back to the hotel.

"Wait a moment, Wonwoo." Their manager called out to stop him. "They want a couple shots of you and Cyana."

Wonwoo sighed, nodding as he reluctantly returned to his seat. Cyana walked over, bowing politely to the staff. She stood awkwardly next to Wonwoo, a clear gap between them as she waited for instructions.

"Cyana-yah, can you stand behind Wonwoo?" Their translator smiled kindly as she directed the girl. "Wrap your arms around his shoulders, yes- that's good."

Wonwoo glanced up at the girl, looking away when their eyes met. He couldn't help but stiffen up as they both turned towards the camera. "I thought you went home with the others." He mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, smiling as the photographer clicked away. Most of the members had already finished their photoshoots and gone home.

Cyana's lips quirked down into a suppressed frown. "I stayed back. The car could only take four of us and Seungkwan looked dead on his feet."

"Look this way!" The photographer yelled, cutting off whatever had been Wonwoo's reply.

"Schedules forced Wonwoo to actually talk to me." Cyana couldn't help but grin despite the topic. "It was fun, I guess."

"I've always been a very introverted person." Wonwoo said to the camera, wringing his hands nervously. "I enjoy having time to myself."

Cyana smiled when the interviewer finished talking. "Yeah.. Wonwoo's always been a bit of an enigma to me. Like a mystery I just can't figure out."

Cyana's sitting with Dino in their hotel room, busy eating the lunch they had grabbed from the staff room. They're both mid-bite when the door opens.

"Nana~" Seungkwan walked in, fixing his hat. He was dressed and ready to go out. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Spotting the camera, he waves. "Oh- Hi~ We're going to Super Junior's concert."

Cyana shook her head, still chewing. "It's okay." She managed to say once swallowing. "I think I'm going to stay in today."

Seungkwan nodded, ruffling both her and Dino's hair before leaving. Neither maknae gave any indication they had even noticed the action, continuing to enjoy their meal.

"I'm gonna go to the sauna with Vernon later." Dino told Cyana through muffled chewing. "Do you want to come?"

Cyana made a face. "To the sauna?" She mimed gagging. "No thanks, Chan."

Dino made a face back. "I keep forgetting there are things you can't do that other members can." He smiled when she frowned. "I guess going to the sauna would be a little weird."

"I guess??" Cyana questioned, amazed at his lack of modesty. "A little??"

Dino shrugged. "You're a bro, bro."

"Where on earth did you learn that-" Cyana asked, though she already knew the answer. Vernon. Duh.

Jun and Cyana lazed in bed, Cyana watching Jun's phone from next to him. The girl was half-asleep, eyelids drooping and head lulling against the wall.

Wonwoo walked in, fresh from a shower, double taking when he saw Cyana. Gears turning in his head, he reluctantly slid into his own bed, throwing his blanket over himself.

"What did you do today, Wonwoo?" Jun asked, eyes still focused on the phone. He looked over at Wonwoo before checking on Cyana, smiling to himself when he saw her tired expression.

"I played tennis." Wonwoo answered. "Worked out, went swimming, then ate with the others- what did you guys eat?" He subconsciously said guys, including Cyana into the question. She perked up from Jun's side, suddenly awake.

"I ate with Donghae and Eunhyuk hyung after their concert." Jun replied, nudging Cyana. "What about you?"

"I ate with Dino."

Both boys frowned. "I thought that was your lunch." Jun said, both confused and worried. "You didn't have anything for dinner?"

Cyana paused. "I had some snacks. Not that hungry, since I didn't do much today." She shrugged. "I ate a lot for lunch anyways." Redirecting the topic, she turned to Jun. "Was the concert fun?"

Jun nodded. "It was so much fun." Sitting up straighter, he placed down his phone, fully engaged now. "They speak Japanese so well."

Wonwoo hummed. "We should learn to do that."

"Jeonghan and Hoshi are both great." Cyana sighed. "I think if I have one more language in my head I might combust."

Her quip brought both boys to laughter. "It's okay." Wonwoo said quietly, once the laughter died down. "You can just speak a lot for our North American tours."

"I always had a kind of weak presence, and I never fit in well as a kid." Wonwoo told the camera. "But with Seventeen I didn't get that feeling. They made me feel welcomed, always made me shine without needing to." He paused for a moment, thinking. "They're very important to me- because of that."

"Mingyu once told me Wonwoo cared deeply about his place in the group - he said it might sound selfish but I don't think so." Cyana's eyes were a little sad as she looked at the interviewer. "Mingyu said Wonwoo only has Seventeen. I guess he was just trying to tell me Wonwoo's very protective over the people he loves - and that was the only reason why it felt like he didn't like me." Cyana shrugged. "It made me hate him less."

"Ah. Mingyu told her that?" Wonwoo grimaced once hearing what the interviewer told him about Cyana's interview before him. "I guess he's right. I didn't want Seventeen to break apart because of her." He looked away, embarrassed. "They were my first friends. I only have them."

"What do you mean Dino's ill?"

Cyana stared at a worried Hoshi. "Is it serious?" She asked, verging on panic. It felt like the boys were dropping like flies around her - what with Jeonghan's body decay, DK's sore throat, Seungkwan's ankle, Seungcheol's unstable mind and now Dino.

"He's getting it checked." Hoshi told her, not wanting to worry her further with the details. "You won't do anything - panicking like that."

Cyana took a few breaths, knowing he was right. "You're right. Okay." She let out a deep breath. "He'll be okay."

"On in 3 minutes!" A staff member called from the door.

She stood up, following everyone as they shuffled out towards the stage. Wonwoo stumbled a few paces in front of her, making her look his way.

"You good?" She whispered, speeding up to stand beside him.

He only gave her a curt nod, refusing to look at her and instead focusing on the lift in front of them. They could both hear the cheers from here.

"Go, go!" A staff rushes them both onto the lift before either of them could break the silence. Cyana could only glance at him again as they were lifted up onstage.

She thought she was mistaken when she saw him go down. The area behind the stage was dimly lit, and there was a commotion as the Hiphop Unit finished their stage and came down to switch with the Performance Unit. Cyana thought maybe her eyes were acting up, when she saw Wonwoo run down the stairs, take a few steps and drop.

Staff members were on him in an instant. Cyana was shoved aside as they rushed to lift him, moving him out the walkway and onto a table- it's sole purpose was to serve as a bed in case this very thing happened.

She felt like her limbs were falling her, leaving her frozen in place.

"Go." Mingyu mouthed the words at her, pointing at Wonwoo. He pointed next at the tent, gesturing that he needed to get his mic checked. "Stay with him." He pointed again at Wonwoo.

Cyana willed her legs to move, shuffling over to Wonwoo's side. The crowd of staff had dispersed, leaving him alone with two staff members- one with a fan and one with an oxygen tank.

She took the oxygen tank from one of them and told them she could do it instead.

"Wonwoo." She muttered, lifting the oxygen tank and placing it gently in front of his mouth. His chest rose dangerously fast as he tried to catch his breath. "Breathe." She found only English in her mind as she tried not to panic. "Please breathe."

His eyes darted around until they landed on her face. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, he raised a hand and pushed the oxygen tank weakly away from his face, trying to speak. "What- what's going on." He panted out, his speech slightly slurred.

Cyana felt her heart crack. "Don't try to talk." She reprimanded him, gently pushing him back down to rest. "You passed out."

If Wonwoo could breathe, he would've snapped at her to leave him alone, that he could take care of himself. He couldn't. Instead, he closed his eyes, allowing her to take care of him. Just this once.

"She was gentle with me." Wonwoo recalled. "Even though I hadn't been kind to her."

"Breathe." She mumbled again, mindlessly repeating it as her brain turned numb from everything going on. She stayed next to him, raising the oxygen tank to his lips whenever his lungs failed to do the job. "It's okay."

"She stayed throughout the whole thing." Wonwoo looked sheepishly at the camera. "I don't think I even said 'thank you.' We just returned on stage."

Cyana shrugged at the interviewer's question. "He didn't need to say anything. Sometimes words fail us - his eyes said enough."

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

SxF Crack Theory: The Identity Of [REDACTED]'s Father

Hear me out here.... but, maybe, Twilight's father could be Yuri's boss, aka, the SSS Lieutenant.

Now, this might be a crack/joke theory, but here is the evidence I have to back up my claim (yes, I'm presenting it because I'm just Like That):

(Warning: Manga spoilers ahead)

Exhibit A: Physical Characteristics

Here is a picture of Agent Twilight:

Here is a picture of Yuri's boss (who, from now in, will be referred to as YB, for my own convenience):

We can see that Twilight and YB have very similar facial characteristics: bluish-grey eyes, blond hair, and a similar face shape (nose, jaw).

We never see Twilight's father's full face: only the lower half, because he has presumably forgotten his face, along with his mother's (King of Emotional Repression™️), but we can see that his jawline and shape of his mouth are very similar to Adult Twilight.

Oh, and look at that- rather pronounced cheekbones, if I do say so myself. Where else did I see those? Hmmm

Exhibit B: Ambiguous Fate

During the War Arc, we're never told about [REDACTED]'s father's fate. We just know he never returns to his family: and the reason why he left for the very last time, was that, "Things have been heating up at the border. I need to take a little business trip." The fact that his, a (presumably) rather important man's, body was never recovered: nor were [REDACTED] or his mother informed of his death. Of course, his body could have been lost in the bombings, or the part of [REDACTED] finding out about his father's dead could have been omitted, but for most of the part, we're left to assume about his father's dead. And... this sounds familiar to another instance...

Like the instance of [REDACTED]'s friends. He (and we) assumed they'd died in the warehouse as children, but later we see that they're alive and in the army (only to die a second time, RIP), but this time, for their deaths to be confirmed: for [REDACTED] to only receive their dog tags after the failed campaign.

This may have been a setup: for Endo to reintroduce [REDACTED]'s father, later in the story, as YB.

Anyway, one thing I've learned after reading and watching so many books, comics, and TV shows: never assume a person's dead, not unless their body/proof of their death has been explicitly shown. This belief was only reinforced after [REDACTED]'s friends.

And, [REDACTED]'s father's last known place was around the Westalian-Ostanian border. He could have escaped in the crossfire, theoretically...

Exhibit C: Fatherly Nature (?)

We all love a good found-family dynamic in the workplace. It's there with WISE, it's there with Garden, and it's kinda there with the SSS.

My main argument about this stems from the chapter which focuses on Yuri's work.

We see YB continuously worry about Yuri's physical health, in panels like:

Obviously, this doesn't happen only in this chapter. Whenever Yuri's there, YB is also there, yelling at him to a) go to sleep, or b) STOP GETTING HIT BY BUSSES OH MY FUCKING GOD IT CAN'T HAPPEN SO MANY TIMES TO ONE PERSON-

And, of course, there's the Yuri Sick Fic chapter:

Not gonna lie, this point is extremely weak, if I brought this up in court I'd be laughed out of there-

Anyway, I just wanted to put this in.

If it does turn out that YB is [REDACTED]'s father then. Bestie. Buddy. How are you managing to be a better father-figure to some insolent kid who gets hit by busses than you were to your actual son, like 20 years ago. Maybe he learned along the way.

Exhibit D: Symbolism (???)

Oh, look, another point I'm pulling out of my ass! But whatever, you're reading it <3

During the War Arc, we see Twilight sustain two major injuries:

One, as a child, when his home is bombed:

And two, as an adult, in the army:

and these injuries are both to his left eye.

Of course, this has given rise to theories of him not being able to see his left eye, it being his blind spot, and Yor guarding his blind spot on missions, etc., etc., which I love bc ✨Twiyor✨

Getting back on point, if we look at YB, we see that he has injuries too... or rather, remnants of them, what with the scars he has...

which, are also on his left eye. Huh! Interesting... this might just be me, but could this be parallels to how similar he and his father were? Are? His father also wanted peace between Ostania and Westalis: but he taught his child that in a very harsh manner (by slapping him), but Twilight wants to teach Anya that in a kind manner. Whenever we see him teaching her, he never loses his cool with her (of course, he loses a lot of hope, but this man's a pessimist, what can we do).

Also shows how much kinder Twilight is, compared to his father.

---

Of course, these points are very weak, and it might just be that Endo reused some character designs for efficiency, but let me be, ok!! This is a crack theory!!! Let me be a clown!!!! AKDFJSJF

If I'm being honest, this post was inspired by a convo I'd had with my friend, around the time Chapter 86 was released. She was theorizing that [REDACTED]'s dad is the Shopkeeper, and I was theorizing it was this dude. Of course, our theorizing was sidetracked by Chapter 86, and a certain panel within it, but... WHATEVER.

So, what are your thoughts? Obviously, my own theory is very weak (for example, why would the SSS accept a Westalian citizen into their ranks? Why would he even join the SSS? Could he have defected? Abandoned his wife and kid?), but this was fun to think about, lol. What are your theories? I think the Shopkeeper-is-the-dad theory and the YB-is-his-dad theory are both cool, so, what do you think?

(Also, yeah, I know, his dad could very well be dead. I just refuse to believe it, bc I'm just Like That <3)

[eroscomet]

Make it Right

Chapter two- Hauting for Home

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Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings: Mentions death, a bit angsty, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 3k+

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm so sorry that this chapter took a while to make. I was busy on the weekend; however, I found time to finally finish the chapter for you all! I really do hope you guys enjoy this one! I will try to get a specific schedule for updates on certain stories. If you guys are wondering about updates for 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours,' I will try to update that as soon as possible. I will also be doing a couple drabbles on different characters and or drabbles of characters I've already written for. I would also like to thank you guys so much for all the support you all have been showing me! I am so thankful and grateful for each and every one of you! Thank you so much for every like, reblog, and comment, it means a lot to me!

Not proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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"You talked to my dad?!" Astrid had exclaimed with an amused smile on her face. There it was, that twinkle in her eye that you had missed so much. She hadn't been very happy recently, with you not around and everything else in her life that had been happening.

"Yeah, when I had first died. I got sent to the immigration office, and what do you know? There he was behind the glass. He's just as kind as you always told me he'd be. Surprisingly, he immediately recognized me. He told me that he had been watching after you and practically watched our love 'blossom,' as he put it." The two of you continued walking outside.

You couldn't help but think about how people must be seeing this. Astrid looked as if she were talking to herself from an outside perspective. Aware of her past, you knew people had a tendency to bully her, so when nearing Miss Shannon's School for Girls, you tried to get her to talk as much so that others wouldn't look at her funny. So, you took up most of the time on the way there, talking as much as she could so that she didn't have time to talk. Which was odd because she was usually the one who'd talk while you'd listen.

"He said he liked me, which is a relief. Sometimes, I feel like your mom is more confused but is trying to be supportive. I mean, remember when I had first come over, and she started talking about how she too 'experimented' as she said. Anyway, that isn't the point. I met your dad, and we actually frequently visited you together. It's funny, sometimes we'd bond over how much we missed you."

Astrid's eyes had furrowed as she had begun to notice that every time she began or wanted to speak, you only spoke faster, almost sputtering out information. A frown tugged at your lips as she had caught on.

"I just don't want people to look at you even more weirder than they already do. If you're talking to yourself, they'll find that an easy target. Try...putting on some headphones and pretending you're on the phone? Or you can just put your phone up to your ear?"

She smiled as she took her phone out of her pocket and brought it up to her ear.

"Thanks, you're right. So, what else did he say about me? Did you see my grandfather? What's the afterlife like?" Astrid felt like she had a million different questions to ask.

"Your dad says he's proud of you and that he sees himself in you all the time. As for your grandpa, no. I mean, I feel as if it's harder to find him since he did lose his head to a shark. The afterlife is a bit weird. I can't tell you much about it since I haven't exactly crossed over. I basically only know what headquarters and a few shops look like. I mean, there's a 'Soul Train' which essentially takes you to the 'Great Beyond,' but I never went because I don't want to risk not being able to watch over you."

You grabbed Astid's shoulders, moving beside her to walk toward the street end of the sidewalk. Even though you were dead, the sidewalk rule never really left you, even while Astrid couldn't even see you.

"Yeah, I figured. I almost can't believe that a shark bite ended his life, I knew my family wasn't normal, but we can't even have a somewhat normal death? The Great Beyond, huh? Soul Train is a clever name though. Does no one know what's on the side?"

"I mean, I've never seen someone leave then come back from the train in the full year, almost two years that I've been here. I'm not taking the risk and crossing anyway, I can't lose you again after we just got back to each other."

"You're right..." Her eyebrows furrowed, her attention on the sidewalk as they continued to walk. She thought to herself for a moment before speaking again.

"So, you don't have any ghost tricks you learned?"

"Of course, you'd ask that, would you be disappointed in me if I said I didn't?"

"I mean, you've been gone for a year almost two, I'd expect you to know at least something to make me feel better for all the time you've been gone."

"Okay, uhhh... I can walk through walls and, I guess, float a bit."

"That sounds like every other ghost."

"Just because i'm a ghost doesn't mean I have super powers, Astrid."

"Just saying."

"I mean, I do have this nasty scar from the accident." You lowered your shirt neckline, showing the scar on the lower part of your neck. Astrid winced at the scar before looking away.

"Right. Weird how all it took was one neck twist for you to die.

"Well, it's more like my neck twisted as if I was a cartoon character that got punched, and my head began spinning-"

"Ew, shut up. Don't talk about it like it's something light."

"I'm sorry, you're right."

It was silent for a bit as you guys walked into the school, Astrid opened one of the doors while you phased right through the other door. Astird put her phone back into her pocket as she walked upstairs and past the other students. You followed after her, your eyebrows furrowing at the other students nearby her dorm. Some of them whispering to each other while giggling.

That's when Astrid opened her dorm room's door, a bedsheet attached to the ceiling by a rope coming straight towards her. The bedsheet makes out a ghost with a 'Boo' sign in its chest area. Astrid stumbled back before turning around and looking at the other girls, who began to burst out into laughter behind her.

"When you're all driving carpool and banging your pilates instructor to fill the empty voids in your life, we'll see who gets the last laugh."

The girls smiles and laughs quickly died as she finished speaking. Astrid turned around as she went into her room, shutting the door behind her. You smiled proudly, a laugh escaping you as you saw the looks on the girls faces as they disburst from Astrid's door.

"Witty as always." You said as you phased through her dorm room's door. The make-shift ghost on the ceiling startling you a bit as you had almost 'ran' into it. Sometimes you forget you're a ghost even if it's been a year.

"They have not toned down with the comments? You had always been careful about this topic, not wanting to bring it up too much with Astrid.

"No." It was a simple and straightforward answer that made you not want to question further. A part of you felt angry that you were helpless to all of it now that you're dead. You had gotten so used to defending her against everyone but now your words would only fall on deaf ears.

You sighed as you plopped yourself onto her dorm room's bed, thinkiing for a moment on how to steer away the conversation of bullying that she obviously did not want to talk about.

"Did you hear that my sister's pregnant? I know that I shouldn't bother looking over them since they're perfectly fine.."

"I'm not surprised."

"She's naming the baby after me."

"God, that's ridiculous! Naming their kid after a relative who isn't even dead yet-" Astrid's voice faltered for a moment. The fact that you were dead and have been for almost two years was still a punch in the gut after all this time.

"That's what I said, baby." You offered her a small smile as you played into the bit that you were still alive for Astrid. She still wanted to make her at least feel a bit better.

'Baby.'

Your words - and your smile, even if it was for her benefit - just made Astrid's heart twist further in her chest.

"You're killing me here."

"Why?" Your head tilted to the side as you looked at her.

"Because you're supposed to be dead." Her voice came out in a strangled whisper as she looked down at the papers scattered on her desk.

You bit your lip, you didn't want to show that what Astrid had said hurt you. Even if you were dead, you still had emotions and feelings. You paused for a moment before deciding to drop the topic.

"So, they're having a baby shower. You should go."

"Oh god, a baby shower? Is it too late to make you disappear again?" Her face had immediately scrunched up with distaste at the idea of being forced to go to a baby shower - especially your self-centered sister's baby shower where she'd name her child after you for her own gain.

"Come on, you couldn't see me for a whole year, and now that you're finally able to, you already want to get rid of me? That's cold, babe, even for you. Even for me who's dead cold. Get it? Huh? Dead cold. Because i'm dead? And i'm cold now because I have no blood. No? Okay."

"Oof, that was horrible." She said as she shook her head and grumbled in response.

"Come on, admit you missed me. I heard all your late-night talks that you thought weren't reaching my ears."

"I did miss you - I've missed you for a whole year." She confessed, sounding a bit surprised by her own confession. The room fell silent, the weight of everything that had happened falling onto the both of them. Neither of them wanted to address it, though, they didn't want to have to deal with it now.

"Did you ever-" She paused for a moment as she thought of the right words to say, "When I'd lay in your bed and mope, were you just...watching me?"

"No, I hated that. I'd still do what I would've done if I were alive. I tried holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear that never got to you."

"Sweet nothings, huh?" She teased, which earned an eye roll from you. Again, the room had fell silent as the two were lost in thought before Astrid spoke again, breaking the silence.

"How bad did it hurt?"

"Uh.. Well... I just remember being on the ground one second, then in the air the next. I landed, and well- You know what. It had hurt for that second that I was alive, but it had been an instant death if anything."

Having to talk about your death wasn't an easy topic. It was a reminder of how quick you had lost it all. The blood in your system, the beat of your heart, Astrid. The sight of you nervously fidgeting with your own fingers made Astrid's heart ache.

"I hate that." She muttered, her voice coming in strained, almost as if she was forcing herself to get the words out.

"I'm sorry." Your words were mumbled as she continued to fidget with your fingers, now more anxiously than before. The apology caused Astrid to shut her eyes, trying to hold herself together. She felt that now was not the time to start breaking down.

"Don't. Don't apologize." She had almost snapped at you as she opened her eyes to shoot a glare at you.

"Okay." You were never one to go against her word, you didn't want to start a fight. Especially not now. All you could do was bring up one of your hands, beginning to gently pull on the hairs on the back of your neck as you avoided Astrid's eyes.

"Is that a nervous habit of yours now? Pulling your hair." She asked as she reached her hand out idly to brush your hair out of your eyes.

"I had gotten it when I first reached the afterlife. When you watch the people you love hurting, and all you can do is ghost around them..." Your voice had faltered, forcing yourself to clear your throat and then begin to speak again.

"You feel so helpless. Watching everyone who used to be around you and love you so miserable about your death. It makes you feel guilty but, most of all, useless. There's no way to hold, touch, talk to, comfort them... It's hard."

The room had fallen silent after your words. Astrid's fingertips gently brushed along the back of your head - tracing the place that you usually pulled at. She let her hand rest there, trying to keep you from pulling at your hair again.

"How cold am I?"

Your words made Astrid pause for a moment. Leaning closer to you as she wrapped an arm around her now ghost girlfriend. The chill of your skin made her shiver involuntarily - but Astrid tried not to show the way her body automatically wanted to shy away from the cold.

"Really damn cold. It's like you're an ice cube almost." Her words a mumble as she got closer to you, laying next to you as she rested her head on top of yours.

"I'm sorry that I'm not warm anymore." Your own words come out as a mumble as well, instinctively, your head rests on her shoulder.

"I know you don't much like when it's really cold. I thought I was keeping myself with this sweater but now that someone's actually able to touch me, I realize it's doing nothing for me."

"Gosh, you don't have to apologize for that. At least you're here." She pulled you closer against her, her arms wrapping around your waist - burtying her face into your shoulder, even if your skin was freezing and caused a slight burn against her own warm skin. She ignored the way that her body had involutarily shivered at the contact - focusing instead on the fact that her girlfriend was here.

"Barely." You mumbled quietly as you gently pulled away from your girlfriend, knowing that you were probably burning Astrid's skin with your own cold, dead skin that was now a pale blue hue.

"Don't be like that. You're talking as if you have no more hope."

"Death has a way of doing that."

Astrid let out a quiet huff at your words. Her eyes flickered back and forth from you and her own hands that were now gripped tightly on her bedding - but in the next moment, she let go. Almost as if with a full burst of speed, she darted to you. Her arms wrapping around your body, hauling you into her bed in a tight, crushing embrace.

"Astrid-" You had said in surprise and protest. You knew that you were cold. Dead. The cold would burn Astrid at one point, and you didn't want that. Not when you used to be alive and warm for her. You used to keep her warm and now you can only burn her with your icy dead skin.

"Don't even think about complaining. I don't care if you're cold." Astrid snapped as she held you impossibly close against her. Her body shivered once again as your cold skin was like a bucket of cold water dumped over her body - but she ignored the cold, focusing on the sensation of her girlfriend in her arms.

A frown had tugged at your lips, knowing that eventually, Astrid would get too cold, but after a year of being a lone ghost who watched your loved ones move on or suffer because of you, you couldn't help but be a little selfish. Your arms wrapped around her as tightly as you could.

You missed your girlfriend so much. Watching over her for a year, her suffering for a full year over your death, had done a number on you. You'd cry if you could, but all you felt was this deep internal sadness. You had no heartbeat, you had no blood to warm your body, you had no tears to shed from your dry eyes. Your chest was the most still it had ever been, you had no air to breathe anymore.

It had begun to feel like too much for the both of them. Being this close to each other after a year of thinking they'd never be able to have contact again, feeling each other's skin despite the feeling of a small burning on her own skin from your own. It was almost enough to make Astrid cry.

The cold was beginning to seep into her skin - making her shiver and leaving her skin prickled. But Astrid wouldn't - couldn't - let go of you. Not when it had been a year since she was able to hold you. You had only frowned as you held her tighter. A small hiss escaped Astrid from the cold contact as she tried to get herself impossibly closer to you.

"Damn it, it's getting too cold." She hissed, speaking between clenched teeth as she tried to bury her face into your shoulder further.

"Warm up with the blankets, I'll just lay beside you. I promise I won't disappear." You pulled away, gently moving Astrid off of yourself as you carefully pulled her bedsheets over her body. When you finished tucking her in, you lay beside her, admiring every detail you could land your eyes on.

She only huffed a bit, feeling oddly petulant about the fact that she had to let go of you However, she did as she was told. A small shiver rattled her body as her eyes locked onto yours. She managed to mumble something incohereently as she reached for you, trying to tug you close again.

"Too cold, baby. Just give it a moment. I'm here, you see me." You tried to reassure her as you gently tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.

'Baby.' The soft nickname only made her want to pull you close again, but she knew that you were right. Her boy was cold - skin still pricked and burned from being in contact with her girlfriend. She snuggled further into the bedding, her hand gently reaching out to yours. Linking her own pinky with yours, causing you to smile. Her eyes looked into yours as if asking if it was okay to which you had nodded.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

A/N: I don't know why this felt like such a short chapter to me despite it being the most words I've written so far?? I might have some filler chapters for this and 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours' sometimes. Then again, there is still a lot to write for the storyline themselves. Thank you, lovelies, for all the support on my posts! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm so sorry if some days I do not have time to update. Also, if there's anyone that wants to be tagged for updates on this story, leave a comment saying so! Bye, loves!

[genericpuff]

LORE | REKINDLED EPISODE 41 - TOWER 4

< Previous episode | Next episode >

Nothing quite sets in the holiday spirit like SPOOOOKY SHIT-

Can you believe it's been a year since Rekindled actually started? The way time flies when you're having fun. I had actually forgotten I had redrawn a lot of those first few episodes when I made it an official "thing" (i.e. when I put it on an update schedule and signed my life away foreverrr /j) so tracing back when Rekindled officially 'began' had me finding old versions of those first few episodes that were oooooof bro-

Okay, but for real, Rekindled's come a long way, and it still has a long way to go still which makes me so excited. As much as those who see what I do here like to assume it's purely out of spite and hate, I really do love working on this comic, and that includes the part of the process where I revisit old episodes of LO that, even after everything, I still love. The newer seasons may be dead to me, but what it used to be has a special place in my heart, and Rekindled has really helped me explore what could have been. It's made Saturday nights a thrill for me again - I get to enjoy two whole doses of LO content now, with a fun balance of flavors that makes being a part of this community twice as fun as normal. You could say it's really rekindled my flame for LO-

A very special thanks to @banshriek, who's helped me bring Rekindled to a whole new level that wouldn't exist without them. They've been an amazing assistant and a wonderful friend and I'm so thankful to have them in my corner <3

And thank you! All of you, for following along with Rekindled, reading my essays, destroying my ask inbox, and just being an awesome community full of awesome people. I've got a busy year ahead with lots of stuff planned, from art markets and expos to plot threads in Rekindled that I'm hyped af to get to; not to mention Lore Olympus officially ends this year, meaning I'll undoubtedly have loads to talk about (which fills me with both a strange sense of excitement and dread at the same time LOL) I'm gonna try and take it all in the best spirit that I can, I wanna come out of this shit sparkling like one of Hades' diamond golf balls.

Let's make 2024 a fucking banger.

[famwhy]

Bereavement (2)

noun

/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader

Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Note: I can't—for the life of me—believe how many notes the first part got after just a few days of being out, you guys are actually insane. Thank you all so much. And thank you too, Kingpin, for giving me the idea in the first place lmao. (Do me a huge solid and lemme know if any of my Spanish needs some work, I studied it for 3 years but it's been over a year since it's been put to practice so I'm a little rusty)

Miles would never drop you, not in a million years—you knew that.

Something had stopped him, forced him to let go as he froze in time; in an assortment of colours he couldn't control—that was how you found yourself where you were now—free-falling to your death for what was perhaps the second time in your life.

"Y/N!"

It was a lot scarier the first time—you had to admit—when you fell from the glass room right beside the huge collider more than a year ago. At the time, Miles had insisted you stay away from his spider business for your own safety, but you—being you—followed him down anyway.

That was your first mistake.

Your second—however—came in the form of letting Kingpin know you were there after allowing quite the ridiculous sneeze out of your mouth. And once he saw you, it wasn't hard for him to pick you up and throw you through the shattered glass in his rage and dismay of his failed plan.

Miles had his back completely turned to you when it happened, and yet—somehow—he was the first to whip his head around and notice your quickly descending form.

"Y/N!"

You had come so close to the ground—seconds away from touching it—when that familiar warmth wrapped its way around your waist, carrying you through the wind to prop you onto your own little cloud of safety.

Ever since then, Miles refused to leave your side. He took you out on every mission he went to—pretty much every news station had you pinned down as 'Spiderman's girl' and he never bothered to correct them.

So even as Gwen went off to another dimension, Miles grabbed you before following after. Even as he was invited to the headquarters of this 'spider society', he refused to go without them also granting you permission inside too.

When you asked him why he went to such lengths for you, he simply replied, "I almost lost you once while being in the same dimension as you, if you think I'm going to let it even come close to happening again, you've got another thing coming."

So no, you didn't find the second time you were falling to your death all that scary. Not when you knew Miles would save you—

"I've got you, cariño."

—you just didn't exactly know that it would be the other one that did.

His arms were wound tightly around the underside of your knees and upper back—carrying you so intimately, looking at you with so much love in his eyes, you found yourself growing slightly flustered.

...okay, very flustered.

"Oh, Cariño," as he spoke, he didn't lose the breath in his tone—the gentle air of disbelief he took on since your arrival, "you're here. I can't believe it—you're here. Te extrañé mucho." ("I missed you so much.")

You were speechless, gaping up at him like a clueless fish—what else could you do? You were being held in the arms of a copy of your best friend after he basically just confessed to you because the 'you' in this universe was apparently dead.

Though, luckily for you, there was no need to say a word for he continued speaking with those soft, fond eyes, "I missed your smile and your laugh. I missed how you always used to tug me around whenever something caught your eye... and how you would go on and on about whatever show was your new obsession of the month. You were always so... pretty when you spoke passionately.

"Speak for me, cariño," he continued, "let me hear that pretty voice of yours again."

"I—" you were stuttering—why were you stuttering?—"I, uh..."

Pull yourself together, Y/N.

"Miles—"

"Ah, I just realised how much I missed the way you say my name."

"—guh!" How the hell was he spitting such smooth lines? "Miles! Just listen for a minute, okay?!"

"Of course, mamí."

"I— I'm not who you think I am. I mean, I am Y/N but I'm not your Y/N. And you're not my Miles."

As the words came tumbling out your mouth, the boy's—this earth's Miles'—lips tugged down, gaze hardening and grip around you ever-so-slowly growing tighter.

"Don't be silly, mamí, of course I'm your Miles. I always have been and always will be."

Your brows furrowed and your eyes trailed to the view behind him, moving rapidly as you tried to locate your best friend. Though, soon, your view of the sky was cut off by the male with braids once more.

"What are you doing?" A growl. "Stop looking for him, look at me. I'm right here. He dropped you."

"He glitched! This isn't his world so of course he would, it wasn't his fault!"

You were quick to defend him—he was your best friend so of course you were. There was no way you were having anyone accuse him of anything negative, even himself.

"Cariño, you almost died. Again. He can't take care of you." Miles narrowed his eyes, as if just the thought pissed him off; as if he had the right to be pissed off.

"Oh what?" You scoffed. "And you can? I'm my own person, I don't need to be taken care of."

Stubbornly, you found yourself pulling away from him—or well, attempting to at least, he didn't seem to want to let you though, judging by the way his claws slowly began to dig into you a little.

His eyes were narrowed and his lips were tugged down, gaze seeming to pierce through you—as though he was trying to use you as a vessel to glare at the person he was really mad at.

Though, soon, the expression was gone, replaced by sullen eyes and an almost-far-away look—glossed over in a cloudy haze full of what you could only assume to be the grand despair that was grief; grief over a loss so great, it would pain someone to even admit it ever happened.

"Cariño, please. I don't want to argue with you, I just got you back. Please."

The look on his face, the crack in his voice—it was all too much, you almost couldn't stomach it, and soon, your arms loosened up as you lost the will to pull away.

"Miles," you whispered, "I... I'm really sorry—"

"Don't be, you're here with me now, aren't you? We can make up for all that lost time."

"I can't." Your vision blurred as you shook your head from side-to-side. "I'm sorry, I can't."

For a moment, all was silent. No words were exchanged, leaving only the strong wind to howl in your ears; to warn you of your grave mistake and whisper taunts into your ears. Then—

"It's because of him, isn't it?"

You almost couldn't muster words. "Huh?"

"The other me—it's because of him that you won't stay with me, isn't it?"

The look in his eyes was something of a dark nature, swirling with malice; with hate so inextricibly deep, you almost couldn't believe your own eyes—because... because there was just no way, right? There was no way your Miles (or any other Miles for that matter) could exhibit such a lethal level of loathing towards anyone...

"If I get rid of him, it won't be so much of a problem anymore... sí?"

...or was there?

@justmare, @majestichugs, @milktealvrr, @ladyfairenvale, @sakura-onesan, @haunted-pass, @phoenixgurl030, @stupendousnightmaretrash, @ultimate-geek14, @liaaa-1, @sluslutts, @angrypomeranianwifey, @thatbeanieboss, @kkate8008, @lilslmao, @honeydewpie, @elenasstxarr, @sloverr, @quartzangel0, @crystalsinwater, @astrosdelululand, @sflame15-blog, @nightshxdex, @dottoresgarden, @crowshiny, @teamowolverine, @bangtannie7, @k0la22, @kissmxcheek, @myloveforreading, @jared-oranges, @shisuishoe, @veryfancydoilies, @sunshinesetsstuff, @lovefks, @omg-the-nutella-queen, @hazzapotter, @levanneisdumb, @angie2274, @blueberrystigma

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

rrriiight i was thinking of a hualian x reader thing. the reader is a bit cold and apathetic but caring of two certain people and had been all the way through with hualian like for example, had served xie lian when he was still a prince or helped hong er from time to time. but somehow they just vanished and never came back.

surprise surprise, whilst hualian and some other gods were on a mission, they got attacked let’s say (or were in danger) and guess who came to save them? reader! and thats when it clicks for hualian. that was you. you weren’t gone. so- they never let you get away ever again.

just an idea that came to mind :D

In the Back of Your Mind

Hua Cheng x gn!reader x Xie Lian

I'm so sorry it took so long! I try to put my life updates in my bio, but I've been very busy moving houses! So I'm rlly sorry and I hope this is good!

I didn't know if you wanted reader to be a ghost or a god but I made them a ghost

Because gods don't usually disappear for like ever? Idk uhm if you don't like that just tell me and I'll edit it!

Made up a scenario that puts Xie Lian and Hua Cheng at a disadvantage

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC!!!

Made up details about reader and their life

____________________________________

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are very happy with their relationship and their life

But something's missing

Someone's missing

They haven't seen you in a very, very long time

It's been centuries actually and you still haven't shown up

But they haven't forgotten you, even though you've been missing or maybe even dead they still think about you in the back of their head.

Xie Lian misses you dearly

You had served Xie Lian during XianLe and had always been by his side.

You took your job seriously and it was your first priority to keep Xie Lian happy

You served him well and fought for him too

Your loyalty to Xie Lian was deep and everyone could see it

Everyone knew you loved him besides Xie Lian of course.

Because it was obvious! You wouldn't utter a word to anyone else

Your presence was a cold force to anyone besides Xie Lian

You were always quick to create space with anyone who came near him too.

It seemed like you couldn't care less for anyone else's problems but Xie Lian's.

Not that it mattered to you, as long as you could stay by his side it didn't matter what you were

Whether you were his servant or guard, whether you were next to him or below him, whether he used you as a step or tool.

You never minded, you'd do anything for him even if he wouldn't do those things.

You stayed by his side when Mu Qing and Feng Xin disappeare

You stayed when his palace fell

When his parents died

When Xie Lian started on a bad path

When he turned meaner, rougher, and angrier so that he wouldn't be hurt by the world again

When he grieved because he had been done wrong

You stayed with Xie Lian for as long as you could, and you loved him deeply every second of it.

But then someone took you from Xie Lian.

You never came back

Hua Cheng misses you just as dearly.

You took care of Xie Lian so well and then you just disappeared

When Hong er as caught by Xie Lian obviously he couldn't take care of Hong er by himself

But when Xie Lian was busy, everyone else was too disgusted to touch him

And Hong er didn't want to be in anyone else's arms either

You were different though, even though you were a servant like Mu Qing and Feng Xin you reacted differently

You held Hong er gently, as if the mongrel child would fall to pieces in your arms

You wouldn't let anyone touch him or try to kick him out of the palace

Always quick, you would settle a cold glare on someone if they tried to pull Hong er from your arms

Taking care of Hong er was just as serious as taking care of Xie Lian to you

You spent a lot of time with His Cheng like that

So after Hua Cheng's first death he searched and searched and searched

He never found the two of you

When Hua Cheng had finally found Xie Lian he was so excited to finally see you both again!

Even though he doesn't want to reveal his secret just yet, he hopes the two of you won't find him disgusting for his actions

But. . . You weren't there.

Don't get him wrong Hua Cheng is very happy to see one of the loves of his life after searching so long but you have never left Xie Lian's side so where are you?

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng continued their relationship and their story without you

Which was unfortunate but what could they do?

They had both tried to search for you and found you no where

Things are always changing though

🦊🪷

It was just another mission, and it should've been quick and easy. Especially since Xie Lian and Hua Cheng tagged along. Hua Cheng was only here for Xie Lian though, no one else. The mission didn't go smoothly though.

Missions rarely go smoothly when you're in the dark woods, with lots of monsters, and a heavy fog covers the forest. Not smooth at all when lower gods are bickering with Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

They all got lost and wherever they ended up in these dark woods, had a block on the arrays. Xie Lian can't call for help or reach the heavens and neither can the other gods. What's worse! Powers are blocked too! It's like they've all stumbled upon an area of complete silence as if they were muted.

So even Hua Cheng is struggling a little bit right? Can't break the blocking energy source if you can't find it! Of course the gods all split up, leaving Xie Lian and Hua Cheng alone. It doesn't matter to Hua Cheng if his powers have been weakened or not he'll still do everything he can to protect Xie Lian from the monsters in the woods.

The more time Xie Lian and Hua Cheng stand around in the fog the more things they see. The deeper they go, the thicker the fog gets. And the thick the fog gets the more people they start to see the more things they start to see. It's not a good thing though, it's all illusions and they figured that out quickly when Hua Cheng swipes at a humanoid figure that looks just like Xie Lian.

Xie Lian doesn't have the time to solve the problem because him and Hua Cheng have a big possibility of being hurt right now. E-ming and rouye refuse to move. Hua Cheng will happily use his body and hands to defend Xie Lian if he has to though. Xie Lian says that's silly and chooses to run, dragging Hua Cheng along with him. The foggy ghosts only chase, and it's hard to run in such thick fog.

In fact the fog is so thick that eventually after running so long the ghosts give up on running after them. Xie Lian thought they were safe now but when he looks back Hua Cheng is gone.

Xie Lian shouts for him and tries to look around but the more he looks around the fog the more humanoid figures he sees. they're just. . . Fog. If Xie Lian could see Hua Cheng right now and he still wouldn't know if it was the real one.

The fog is dangerous, creating illusions of people Xie Lian already knows or things from his past, trying to trick him. He's only more lost and he doesn't know how to get out of this mess. It's actually very stressful, how does the fog know all these things, how is it forming the people he used to know and love?

Hua Cheng is in the same predicament. He wanders around the fog and at one point he thought he found Xie Lian again but when his hand wrapped around Xie Lian's arm, the figure turned in vapor. They're both lost. They're both being surrounded by crowds of foggy figures.

Just before the foggy figures are able to touch them the fog disperses though. A loud screech Is heard in the air, a sudden cold breeze blowing past Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, then the fog settles down. It turns out they weren't that far from each other at all and Xie Lian has never run into Hua Cheng's arms faster.

When they both see a foggy figure again they get nervous. One, because the fog has dispersed so they thought they were safe now. Two, it looks like you. Xie Lian already hates the fog he's already seen awful things but he doesn't want to see you like this. Not the fake you.

He can't help but tear up when 'you' try to urge him to come forward, but with the fog gone so is the blocked energy. Xie Lian shoots rouye out, trying to make the awful sight go away by rouye wraps around a surprisingly very sturdy wrist. You grip on rouye and pull Xie Lian forward a little, uttering a small "Dianxia, Hong er"

They know it's you, even though it seems so unbelievable. Xie Lian is literally jumping on you and knocking you to the ground. Hua Cheng manages to act a little more suave but he'd be a liar to say he isn't astonished. It's just a big pile of tears, embraces, and "I love you's".

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng waste no time bringing you home, they cling on to you desperately. Even if you just want to explore Paradise Manor it doesn't matter, both of them are at your side. They absolutely refuse to let you go. As if they're scared, if they look away you'll vanish again. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng just won't let that happen! They love you very much and they've missed out many years of loving and caring for you. They plan to repay all the missed affections

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Uhhhh here it is! I hope it's good 🤔 honestly I feel a little eh about this but let me know what y'all think 🖤I don't know if this is exactly what you were imagining anon but if it wasn't this make another submission in like deeper, exact details and I'll try again okay!

[dulceackles]

Ambivalent Part one - The town

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, sex, violence, enemies to lovers, alcohol, all that. Mention of dead body, a little bit of horror. English is not my first language, so sorry for typos. Also, it is a Y/N, but I've created a background story and a fictional place around it for creative and storytelling reasons. Will not be describing exterior characteristics, tho!

Summary: Dean used to be really important to Y/N but ever since he suddenly left her without telling her why, she's been avoiding even mentioning him. Now, after years, he's back in town, but not because of her. There's a case. The only things she's certain is that she doesn't like him being back.

Word count: 1k

The town of Dimdale was exactly what it sounded like; small, rather boring, and they saved electricity by switching streets lights off by midnight. Not too fancy, huh? Still, it was Y/N's hometown and even tho she sometimes had dreamed of leaving, she'd never actually wanted to pack her bags.

Oily mugs the coffee house, don't ask about the name, was the town's tourist attraction if so you could say. It had been in business since the 60s, owned by the same family, and served the world's best blueberry pie. Y/N had been working there 6 years now and, you guessed it, she loved the simple job she had.

"One black coffee, please, darling!" An old man with a gray beard ordered over the counter.

"Sure, coming up. It'd be 2.50 dollars, thank you," Y/N smiled. She was just pouring the coffee when she heard the bell on the front door ring, notifying her that a new customer had entered the café. She lifted her eyes from the coffee mug to greet the new customers, but her smile dropped the second her eyes locked with a familiar pair of green ones.

How dare he even walk in here? She thought. Dean Winchester, an asshole, liar, toxic jackass, a traitor even. To be honest, she hated him with all her heart and with all the rage she had left in her, but she didn't want to talk about it, or him, or think about it or anything... And behind him in walked Sam. About him Y/N had no ill thoughts about, but she still hated him too simply because he was related to the smallest man who ever lived, Dean. Someone could have described her as unfair, she just called herself a simple girl.

"Hey y...." Sam tried to greet her behind the counter but was quickly cut off by her.

"What would you like?" She gave them her best fake smile that also very clearly said fuck you to both of them. She handed the earlier customer his coffee, accidentally spilling some of the hot liquid into her hand. That made her hiss out of annoyance. That and the two men sitting in bar stools to be exact.

"I… Umm, I’ll take a sandwich, and he'll..." Sam stuttered, clearly taken back by her passive-aggressive character. He knew things between her and Dean had not ended well, but he hadn't thought they had ended so bad it was enough to make a grown woman act like a high school bully behind the counter.

"I'll take the sandwich too." Dean said, saving his brother from the trouble. "Soo... you still work here."

"Clearly." Y/N spat while solving the sandwiches into a paper bag. She had made the decision for them that they'd be eating on the go.

"Oh, actually, we're eating..." Sam tried to put in again, but again, he was interrupted.

"On the go. I'm sure y'all busy, I know he was last time." She gave them the same fake smile she had mastered and reached out to give them the paper bag. Dean grasped it in her hands and got up from his seat.

"It's okay, we are busy actually," He said and tapped Sam's shoulder. "Let's go."

Y/N watched as Sam got up and looked almost upset. For a second, Y/N nearly felt bad, like he had ever been nothing but sweet to her. But then she remembered that he was his brother, and that was enough reasons to hate him.

"And by the way, if you spat on it, just know I won't mind, darling." Dean smirked and then winked at her. Before turning his back, he watched, just a second, how her face turned red. He knew it wasn't a blush but a rage, and he thought a couple other customers might have clocked it too. He walked towards the door with his brother.

"Well, I'm surprised a kitchen knife hasn't flown into your back yet," Sam whispered and Dean laughed and shook his head as they get in the impala. Dean knew Y/N, and he knew that the only bullet she shoots were the bullets coming from her mouth. Well, to be fair, sometimes he had wished she would have just rather picked up a machine gun or something. Still, he thought she was adorable, even if angry. But Dean had promised himself before even stepping his foot over the boarder of this god forgotten town that he'd never drag her into his life again. Even tho they had quite a history, Dean had never told her about his real job because he didn't want to see him and real world ruin her too. No matter how cute, sweet, absolutely choleric, tempting, beautiful or enraged she was, he'd leave her be. 

She deserves better than to be dragged into this life, Dean thought. Besides, there was a case for them to battle.

"Soo.. 25-year-old woman, Sandra Rittenwell, last seen walking home from a night shift at a bar. Couple days later a body is found and well… See for yourself." Sam stretched out to show Dean the crime scene pictures he'd stolen.

"Well, that's a sight." Dean scrunched his nose in disgust. The pictures were cruel to say at least.

"Tell me about it. Surprisingly there were witnesses tho." Sam blurred out, "Victor Hills, called the police at 4am and claimed he saw a "faceless monster" take Sandra. Apparently he had been walking behind her. The police didn't take his claims seriously at first, but after the discovery of the body, they checked the nearby surveillance cameras and no "monster" had been caught in any of them. Police has no suspects as we speak, but they have had a sketch artist draw a portrait of the thing Victor saw."

"Hmm, interesting. Never seen this before;" Dean thought.

"Yup. Did some research and similar incident has happened before. In 1947 a woman disappeared, the body was never found, but locals said few had seen a similar creature in a couple of previous days, leading to the disappearance. One thing is sure, the monster has a type," Sam Said.

"Yeah, and what's that?" Dean knitted his eyebrows together.

"Women, walking home at night." Sam sigh.

"Of course," Dean shook his head for the second time that day.

// Hope you liked it, I love a feedback and hopefully I wasn't rusty. I haven't written other than school stuff in a long time. xx

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